#this fucking thing is like 4.1k words i'm-

[buckysleftbicep]

no one else 𐙚 b.b

pairing: new avenger!dark!bucky barnes x fem!reader (non-con)

warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors dni, non-con sex, forced oral (f and m rec), forced deepthroating, orgasm during assault, creampie without consent, size kink, physical restraint, verbal degradation, coercion, emotional manipulation, fear responses, delusional obsession, absolutely no consent throughout (please read all the warnings)

summary: you have a boyfriend, but bucky could care less. he waited, watched, let the fantasy of you rot until all that was left was his need and obsession.

word count: 4.1k

author's note: hi my loves! i took a break from writing dark fics, and i'm finally back with them! this fic consists of non-consensual sex, everything's in the warnings, please read them first! thank you for stopping by, love you guys and stay safe out there! 💌

It always started with you. Always.

Your face. Your laugh. The scent of your shampoo drifting down the hallway when you passed him, but it didn't matter. What mattered was that it lingered, stuck to his lungs like smoke. 

And it always ended the same way, him alone in the dark, jaw clenched, cock in hand, your name bitten into the curve of his tongue like a sin he wasn’t ready to repent for.

You didn’t know what you did to him. Maybe that was the worst part. The sweet, casual devastation of it. 

The way you flitted around the compound like a fucking angel, smiling at everyone, throwing out kindness like it cost absolutely nothing. You moved with the easy, blameless confidence of someone who had no idea they were being watched.

Worshipped. Studied. 

Every time you called him “Bucky,” you were wrapping a noose around his neck and pulling it tighter—and hell, you didn’t even realise.

He could handle the smiles, fuck, he could even stomach the soft laughs, the way you bumped his arm in the hallway like you were allowed to touch him, like you didn’t understand what that touch did to him. 

What he couldn’t handle… was the other guy. The one you dressed up for.

Tonight you wore black. A silky little thing that looked painted on, hugging your curves like it had been tailored just for him to rip off. The neckline dipped low, too low, and the hem barely reached your thighs. It moved when you walked, swaying like it knew exactly what it was doing to him. 

And the heels—fuck—the heels clicked against the floor with every step, each sound a god damn warning bell in his skull. 

Danger, danger, danger.

He would’ve dropped to his fucking knees and kissed them if you let him.

But you didn’t let him.

Instead, you let him. That boyfriend, that placeholder.

That soft, safe, civilian little fuck who didn’t know the first thing about what you needed. Didn’t know what it meant when your hands trembled, didn’t see how your pupils dilated just a fraction every time Bucky entered the room. Didn’t notice that your body responded to him.

Not your boyfriend. Him.

Bucky knew what to do with you, he’d dreamed it a hundred times. 

A thousand. 

No—he’d planned it. Every scenario. Every sound. Every twitch of your hips as he forced them apart. Fingers buried in your hair, tears on your cheeks, thighs shaking around his face. His cock, thick, heavy, yours, slamming into you from behind while you sobbed his name into the pillow like a prayer turned sacrilege.

You’d fight. Of course you would. You’d cry. Say no. 

But your body would betray you. He knew it would.

That was the part he thought about the most. 

The moment where your “no” would melt into a “please.” The way your voice would break. The moment you realised—no one would ever fuck you the way he could.

You would beg for it, not with words. Never with words. You wore temptation like a crown and never even noticed who you were ruling.

He tried to be good. Fuck, he tried.

He left gifts. Dropped as many hints as he could. Brought you coffee when you looked tired, memorised the way your eyes lit up at stupid little things like that advertisement about adopting abandoned puppies. He laughed at your jokes and waited for you to look at him the way he looked at you.

But you didn’t.

You were blind. Blind and soft and so goddamn ignorant of the way you made him ache.

Until tonight.

Because tonight… Bucky wasn’t waiting anymore.

He was going to show you.

Bucky let himself into your room exactly forty minutes after you left. Picked the lock with practiced ease and entered without hesitation. Sat on the edge of your bed like he belonged there. 

The shadows welcomed him. The silence swallowed the sound of his breath. He stared at your pillow like it was something sacred. Inhaled your scent. Let his fingers curl around your blanket like they were already touching you.

And then he waited.

He waited for the sound of heels on the floor. For the delicate click of your key sliding into the lock of your room. And when the door opened, when you pushed into the room with a breathless little sigh, humming under your breath, drunk on cheap wine and a forgettable man—he felt it.

That hunger. That rage. That need.

You didn’t scream when you saw him.

You should have.

You just smiled, sleepy, unbothered. That same stupid sweet smile that used to make his chest burn before it made his cock twitch.

“Hey, Buck,” you said, your voice warm and airy. “What’s up?”

Still glowing. Lipstick smeared at the corners of your mouth. Perfume clinging to your throat like a lover’s kiss. Hair mussed from hands that didn’t belong to him.

His vision tinted red.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just watched you reach for your earrings, humming like he wasn’t in the room, like he wasn’t staring at you like prey.

Your back was turned. Your neck was bared.

He wondered if your boyfriend had marked you. He hoped not.

Because that was his job.

You turned to face him then. And something in your expression shifted.

“…Is everything okay?”

“No,” Bucky said, standing. “Not really.”

He moved slowly. Controlled. Like something that had waited years to pounce.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he said. His voice was soft. Careful.

You blinked. “Bucky—”

“I mean really thinking, sweetheart, every night. For weeks.”

You stepped back. Just one step. Subtle. But he noticed.

“We’ve talked about this,” you said carefully. “You know I—”

“Have a boyfriend,” he finished.

He chuckled. A hollow, bitter sound.

“Yeah. I know.”

He crossed the distance between you in two long strides. His shadow swallowed yours.

“You think he makes you happy?” he asked, voice quiet. Dangerous. “You think he even knows how to touch you?”

Your lips parted. “Please don’t—”

“Does he know how wet you get when someone puts their hand on your throat?”

The air stopped moving.

“Does he know how you clench your thighs together when I walk past you in the gym?”

You inhaled sharply. And something inside him snapped.

“You wore that little black dress for him?” he whispered, his fingers brushing your bare thigh. “Or was it for me?”

“Stop it,” you breathed, shrinking back.

But it was too late.

He grabbed you—fast, brutal. Vibranium hand clamped around your wrist, dragging you forward, slamming you against the wall.

You gasped, the impact jarring.

He loomed over you, chest heaving, pupils blown wide. You could smell him—leather and sweat and heat. 

“Let me ask you something,” he said, his voice low and rough, almost amused. “Has your boyfriend ever filled this little pussy up ‘til you cried?”

“Bucky, stop—”

“Ever made you come with his mouth while you begged him to stop and keep going all at once?”

Tears welled in your eyes, but he wasn’t done.

“Ever pinned you down,” he murmured, voice dipping lower, “and fucked you so good you couldn’t walk the next day?”

You shook your head.

Not no.

Just fear, shock, and disbelief.

“Thought so,” he muttered. His hand tightened on your wrist. “You’ve been walking around here like you don’t belong to someone. Like this body isn’t mine.”

Your breath hitched.

“I tried being patient,” he said, almost to himself. “I really did. But you keep wearing things like that. Keep smiling at me like you don’t know. You keep fucking pretending.”

He smiled then. Sharp. Crooked. Hungry.

“Tonight, I’m going to give you exactly what you’ve been asking for.”

Your lips parted. To beg. To scream. To say no.

But he kissed you first.

And it didn’t matter anymore.

You didn’t make it to the door.

Bucky dragged you backward, one hand still locked around your wrist while the other slid up your thigh—rough, possessive, not fumbling but practiced. Confident. Like he’d touched you a thousand times in his head and knew exactly how and where to hurt you best.

You struggled and he laughed.

“You’re so soft when you squirm,” he muttered, spinning you in his grip and slamming you back into the wall. 

The picture frame above your bed rattled. Your hands clawed at him, trying to shove him back, but he just grabbed both wrists and pinned them above your head with his vibranium hand. The other curled beneath your jaw, thumb dragging over your lips.

“You think that little boyfriend of yours would fight for you like this?” he whispered, tongue flicking against his teeth. “Think he’d bleed for you? Kill for you? You know I would.”

His mouth found your neck. You gasped as he bit down—not gentle. No. Hard. Bruising. Like he wanted to leave proof behind, like he wanted your skin to remember him.

“Bucky—please,” you breathed, trembling.

“Shh,” he said, grinning. “We’re past talking now, princess.”

And then he dropped to his knees.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t worship. It was hunger. Obsession. Something primal he’d been starving down for too long. You kicked at him—once, twice—until he grabbed your thighs and threw you backward onto the bed. 

The world spun, the mattress dipped. And before you could scream, he was between your legs like a man possessed.

“Don’t fight me,” he said softly. “You’ll love this part.”

He yanked your dress up to your hips. Cold air kissed the tops of your thighs. And then—

“Fuck,” Bucky rasped, voice dark with lust. “Look at you.”

Your panties were soaked through. A fragile wisp of black lace that did nothing to hide the heat between your legs. 

Bucky’s pupils blew wide.

“You wore these for him?” he asked, voice mocking. “These cheap little things?”

He hooked a finger through the fabric and ripped. The sound echoed like a gunshot in the room. Torn lace fluttered to the floor. 

You sobbed, curling away from him, but his arms caged you in. Knees pinning your thighs open. Shoulders wedged between them. His face so close you could feel the heat of his breath fan over your exposed cunt.

“Look at this pretty pussy,” he whispered. “So wet for me already.”

“It’s not—Bucky, don’t—”

“Liar,” he growled, and then—

He devoured you.

Tongue hot, thick, rough as it dragged up the full length of your slit. His nose pressed deep into your folds, inhaling like your scent was a drug he needed to stay alive.

He moaned into your cunt, mouth working in wet, messy circles that made your hips jerk against your will.

Your fists beat weakly at his shoulders. He didn’t care. Didn’t stop.

He ate you like a man starved, tongue stroking deep, wide, purposeful. His lips closed over your clit and sucked, pulling the sound right out of your throat. 

A loud, shattering gasp you didn’t mean to make.

“Oh, baby…” he laughed darkly. “You didn’t know you needed this, did you?”

“Please—” you sobbed. “Stop—don’t—”

But your body betrayed you, your hips rocked into his face. Your thighs trembled. And when his vibranium hand pinned your stomach flat to the bed, holding you still, you whimpered.

That was all the permission he needed.

“Yeah,” he growled. “That’s it. Let me hear it. Let me hear what he’s never earned.”

He fucked you with his tongue, fingers digging into your thighs so tight you knew they’d bruise. Your vision blurred, your spine arched. You were crying and gasping and wet in a way you couldn’t stop, couldn’t control, and he knew it.

“Practically begging me to fuck you,” he rasped, voice soaked in triumph.

And then it hit.

The orgasm slammed through you like a fucking car crash. Your body convulsed, mouth open in a soundless cry as wave after wave shattered through your core, your clit throbbing against his lips as he sucked every last tremor out of you with vicious, greedy delight.

You didn’t mean to cum. You didn’t want to.

But you did.

Hard.

Your thighs shook violently, your eyes flooded. And Bucky moaned into you like your pleasure was his oxygen.

When he finally pulled back, his mouth was glistening.

“I knew you’d taste good,” he said, licking your slick from his lips. “Fucking knew it.”

You curled into yourself, shaking, broken. Eyes wide and wet and ruined.

He didn’t care.

Because now, he was standing. Unbuckling his belt. And pulling out the one thing you were never meant to see.

His cock.

It was thick. Heavy. Veined. Leaking at the tip. Too big to be real. The kind of size you only ever joked about. The kind that hurt.

You stared. He smiled.

“You gonna cry about it?” he asked, stroking the length slowly, watching your expression twist. “Or are you gonna open that pretty little mouth and say thank you?”

You tried to crawl away, he grabbed your hair and dragged you forward.

You didn’t want to look at it. Didn’t want to see the way his hand curled around that monstrous length—slow, possessive strokes like he was showing off, like he knew the size alone would scare you. 

And it did. It fucking did.

Thick. Hard. Veins raised and pulsing under flushed skin, the tip angry and red, already leaking for you. Too big, too much and your heart sank when you realised he was stroking it with practiced ease, already imagining how deep he’d stuff it down your throat.

“Bucky…” Your voice was barely a whisper.

He grabbed your hair and forced your eyes back up to his. “Open your mouth.”

You shook your head, trembling. “Please, don’t make me—”

His grip tightened. “You came for me. I tasted it. Don’t play innocent now, baby.”

You whimpered as he pushed your face down, his cock dragging across your cheek, smearing precum across your flushed skin like a mark of ownership.

“You’re mine,” he said softly. “All those nights I lay in bed thinking about this pretty little mouth… All those fucking times you laughed at my jokes like I couldn’t see through it. Like I wasn’t good enough.”

He pressed the swollen head of his cock to your lips. “I am good enough princess, I’m the only one who deserves you.”

You tried to turn away. He didn’t let you. He forced your mouth open, sliding the tip past your lips. 

Salty. Warm. Violent.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Don’t be shy.”

You gagged immediately as the thick weight of him pushed deeper. Your throat clenched, but he didn’t stop.

His hips rolled forward slowly, deliberately, dragging his cock deeper inch by inch like he wanted to feel every tear slipping from your eyes as your mouth stretched around him.

His hand cradled the back of your head, holding you in place as your jaw ached, your throat spasmed, and saliva spilled from the corners of your lips.

“There you go,” he groaned, head falling back. “Just like that, princess. This mouth was fucking made for me.”

You choked, pulling at his wrist, but he was unmovable.

“Look at you,” he murmured, gaze dropping back to yours. “Crying so pretty for my cock.”

He rocked his hips again. Deeper. Rougher. You gagged, coughed, nose pressing into the base of him as your throat convulsed helplessly around the intrusion.

“Fuck, yes,” he hissed. “That tight throat. You feel that? Feel how deep you’re taking me?”

You could barely breathe. Your lungs screamed.

He pulled back—just enough to let you gasp—and then shoved back in with a grunt that made your whole body flinch. Your lips were slick with spit and precum, chin dripping, hair tangled in his fist like reins.

“I could fuck your throat for hours,” he growled, voice wrecked. “Could keep you down there all night if I wanted. You’ll take it and you’ll learn. Your little boyfriend won't recognise you when I’m done.”

He gave one last brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt, and you let out a broken, strangled sob.

He held you there. Trembling, gagging. 

Then finally—finally—he pulled out.

You collapsed onto your hands, coughing and choking, spit dripping from your mouth to the sheets.

But it wasn’t over.

It was never going to be over.

Because now he was grabbing your waist, flipping you onto your stomach like a ragdoll, dragging you to the edge of the bed.

“Bucky—please, I can’t—”

“You will.”

He yanked your hips up, spread your legs.

You weren’t even sure when he’d fully undressed you—but now your ass was bare, your thighs trembling, your cunt wet and swollen and exposed to the cold air. You tried to twist away. His hand came down hard on your ass.

SMACK.

You cried out.

“I said,” he gritted, lining the thick head of his cock up to your entrance, “you’re mine.”

He pushed.

Your breath caught. You felt the pressure first—terrifying, splitting pressure—then the pain. Stretching.

Too much.

“It’s not gonna fit,” you sobbed, voice high, panicked. “Bucky—it’s too big—”

He grabbed your jaw, forcing your head back toward him.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he whispered, eyes burning. “I’ll make it fit just fine.”

And then he slammed into you.

You screamed.

The force of it knocked the air from your lungs. The burn was unbearable, your walls stretched to accommodate him and failed. Every inch of him was violent, forcing you wider, deeper than you’d ever been taken before.

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned, hips grinding against your ass. “So tight. So fucking tight.”

You were crying again, face pressed into the sheets, hands clutching the blanket like it might save you, stop the way your body was being pulled apart from the inside.

But he didn’t slow down.

He fucked you with brutal thrusts, each one harder than the last. You sobbed into the pillow. Your thighs shook. But his grip only tightened. One hand on your hip, the other on the back of your neck, pinning you down like prey.

“You like this,” he hissed. “Your cunt’s gripping me like a fucking vice.”

You hated him, fuck, you hated him. Most of all, you hated the way your body betrayed you.

Because somewhere in the pain, the burning, the shame—you started to moan.

And he heard it.

“That’s it,” he groaned. “I knew you could take it. Knew you’d fucking love it once I broke you in.”

His pace turned punishing, skin slapping skin. Sweat beading down his temple as he fucked into you with mindless need.

You felt it—your climax, that horrible, traitorous heat building between your legs again. You tried to resist it, bite it back, choke it down.

But it came anyway.

You clenched around him, spasming, crying out as your body convulsed on his cock, the pleasure so sharp it almost felt like pain.

“Oh, baby,” Bucky moaned, voice raw. “You wanna cum for me again?”

You were sobbing. “Please, no more—”

But then he bent low, lips against your ear, and whispered, 

“I’m gonna cum inside you.”

You stiffened.

“No—Bucky—don’t—please—”

“I’m gonna fill this perfect little pussy up,” he gritted, driving into you even harder. “Stuff you full. You want it, don’t you?”

“No—”

“Say it.”

You shook your head.

“Fucking say it.”

His hand gripped your throat.

And in the weakest, most broken voice you’d ever heard from yourself, you whispered, 

“…fill me up. Please.”

He groaned, deep and ragged, and came with a violent thrust that made your legs buckle. Hot, pulsing ropes filled you as his body trembled over yours, cock twitching, breath ragged, forehead pressed to your back.

“You’re mine now,” he murmured, voice low and content. “Every inch of you. Every hole. Every fucking drop.”

You didn’t move. Couldn’t move.

He stayed inside you. Stayed buried deep. And when he finally pulled out, thick warmth spilled down your thighs and soaked the sheets.

You didn’t move for a long time. You couldn’t.

Your body was frozen in the wreckage—legs parted, cunt throbbing, slick dripping down your inner thighs and soaking into the sheets beneath you. The air clung to your skin like sweat and salt, thick with the scent of sex and sweat. 

Your limbs shook, your spine refused to obey. Nerves shot and frayed, lungs still working to remember how to breathe. Everything ached, your jaw, your throat, your pussy. Even your ribs, stretched from sobbing, from screaming. 

Because it wasn’t over. You knew that even before you heard it. Before the mattress dipped under his weight. Before you felt his fingers brush your cheek with that awful, twisted tenderness that made your stomach roll like bile. 

Not rough this time. Not greedy. Just… soft. Gentle.

That was worse.

“Shh, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured, voice low again. Quiet. Almost sweet. Almost like he cared. Like he hadn’t just ripped you in half and made you beg for it. 

“You did so good for me.”

You flinched.

He only hummed, casual and pleased, and leaned closer—mouth warm against your skin as he pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips, like he had the right. Like it was his. Like he hadn’t just stolen it from you.

You jerked your head away. Disgust pulsed through you like electricity. But it didn’t matter.

His hand followed.

Fingers curled around your jaw, firm but not cruel. Not now. He guided your face back to his with the ease of a man who’d done it before—who planned to do it again.

His thumb dragged across your tear-streaked cheek, slow and soothing, like he was calming a frightened pet.

“I know you’re scared,” he whispered, lips ghosting against your temple now. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be. Not anymore.”

You tried to speak. You didn’t even know what you would’ve said..

“I’ve got you now.” Another kiss, this time to your hairline. Gentle. Sickening. “No one’s ever gonna touch you again. Not him. Not anyone.”

He laid down behind you, chest pressing to your spine, his arm draping possessively over your middle.

You felt his cock, still half-hard, still sticky from the mess he left inside you, settle against your ass. His breathing slowed as he sank into the warmth of your body like he was slipping into a dream.

Like this was home. Like this was what he’d earned.

“I should’ve done this sooner,” he murmured, voice thick with something you didn’t want to name. “All that time I wasted… trying to be gentle. Trying to wait.”

His hand slid lower, fingers brushing over the curve of your stomach, dipping toward where your thighs were still wet. 

You tensed instinctively.

“I didn’t want to scare you,” he continued, far too calm for someone who had just broken you. “Didn’t want to hurt you.”

His fingers moved slower now, tracing the edge of your hip like he was thinking. Calculating. 

“But you like it, don’t you, baby?”

You sobbed softly, silently. Pillow soaked. Every breath a betrayal, every second a reminder that you were still here. Still under him. Still his.

“That little pussy of yours didn’t lie,” he chuckled darkly, “Gripped my cock like you fucking needed it.”

You turned your face away again.

He followed.

Kissed the slope of your shoulder. Your neck. Breathed you in like you were something sacred, something his, something he owned now.

“Your boyfriend would’ve never given you that,” he murmured. “Would’ve never taken care of you the way I will.”

He rolled your limp body further into his. One leg slung over yours, pinning you completely. Caged. Trapped. 

His hand twisted into your hair and tugged gently, like he wanted you to listen, like you hadn’t already heard too much.

“You don’t need to ask permission anymore,” he whispered, breath hot against your skin. “You don’t have to say no. You’re mine now and I take what’s mine.”

You shook your head. Weakly. Broken. “Please… don’t…”

He smiled. You felt it against your skin, warm and cruel.

“I’m going to keep you, you know.”

Your stomach turned.

“You won’t have to pretend anymore. No more dates. No more makeup. No more tight little dresses for other men.” His voice dropped, words curling into your ear like a threat. “You only dress like that for me now.”

You cried harder. He didn’t care.

His fingers drifted lower again, between your thighs. Slid through the slick mess still leaking from you. The mess he put there. The mess he made.

“God,” he groaned, almost reverent. “You’re so full, look at this. Look what I did to you.”

You tried to close your legs. He didn’t let you.

“I’ll fuck it into you again in the morning,” he whispered, voice already thick with sleep. “Until you can’t remember his name.”

You froze.

He kissed your shoulder one last time. Lingering. Possessive.

And then he closed his eyes.

Like this was love. Like this was normal. Like this was only the beginning.

And he had no intention of ever letting you go.

a/n: this fic was a blast to write, it probably includes everything from my wildest imagination. i hope you enjoyed it and if you did, please leave a comment or a reblog, it helps motivate me! 🥰

[sceletaflores]

LAYING IT ALL ON THE LINE...

꩜ masterlist ꩜ update blog ꩜ inbox ꩜ taglist ꩜ ao3 ꩜

｡꩜°‧➵ PAIR: Joel Miller x fem!reader

｡꩜°‧➵ WC: 4.1k

｡꩜°‧➵ CONTAINS: 18+ SMUT MDNI, post-outbreak, hurt/comfort, joel's pov, general violence, minor character injury, jackson!joel, when he picks an unnecessary fight with you because that's all he knows, mentioned age gap, joel miller as a sad old man, joel miller experiences feelings, oral sex (f!receiving), p in v, clothed sex, unprotected sex, erectile dysfunction? we don't know what that means in this house because that old man can fuck like he's twenty AND his knees are made of steel (but only sometimes), porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

｡꩜°‧➵ @retrosabers SAYS: thinking about you almost dying on patrol and joel is FUMING, unable to convey just how worried and anxious it makes him. the only way he can even remotely conceptualize his feelings is through a very PASSIONATE rawdogging ♡

｡꩜°‧➵ NAT'S NOTE: everyone say thank you sid for this absolutely luxurious prompt...i'm waiting. i had so much fun with this! i love love love a good semi-angsty, emotionally constipated man having to come to terms with his buried slash repressed feelings in the gritty wake of a near-death experience, like that's my shit. hope y'all love it!

dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics!

joel miller realizes that love isn’t just a four letter word…

"Southeast perimeter’s clear. Heading west by the river bed."

“Wow, you’re finally gonna stop gettin’ us lost out here, sunshine?”

“Lost? Please, you cried when I found that shortcut through the cedar thicket.”

Joel listens to you and Tommy bicker over the radio, a forgotten cup of coffee going cold at his side. That's all he can do when you're out there—patrolling in the snow with a few others. He's not proud of how he just sits by like some anxious house wife, listening to the static between check-ins, but he can't make himself focus on anything other than the way your bright voice filters in and out.

He tries not to hover. Tries not to keep the handheld clutched like it's a goddamn lifeline. But he does, eyes glued to the thing like it might crack open and spill you out if he stares hard enough.

Joel's really not even supposed to be listening in like this. Maria's chewed him out more times than he can count each time she catches him hunched over an old radio that he's never bothered turning in, says it'll do him more harm than good worrying over it.

Besides, these channels aren't meant for civilians sitting on their asses at home. He knows that, because that's exactly what he is now—civilian adjacent. Half-retired.

Tommy jokes about it every once in a while, the way Joel's slowed down, the way his joints complain louder than they used to. A while back, he might've laughed too. Now, every little twinge of pain feels like a reminder of what he used to be.

Joel used to be the one they all looked to out on patrol. He could track better, shoot cleaner, navigate faster than most of the younger guys. That's not the case these days. His patrolling has slowed down over the past few years. He only goes out a few times every couple of months, if even that. 

He tells himself it’s by choice.

It’s not, not at all. He’s tired. His knees ache after long rides. His busted shoulder can’t handle the cold without locking up. Jackson’s got a whole rotation now, young joints, faster reflexes, eyes that don’t blur when the wind hits just right. So he doesn’t go out much anymore. Not unless the group is short. Not unless they really need him.

It makes sense. He knows it makes sense.

That doesn’t make it feel right. You out there, miles away in knee-deep snow with a rifle strapped to your back while he’s stuck here. Not out there. Not beside you.

Joel knows you can handle yourself—hell, you’ve proven that a dozen times over. You’re younger. Strong. Fast. Smart as a whip. You can shoot the cap off a beer bottle and you handle a knife better than most people your age. 

Knowing all that still doesn’t quiet the feeling of unease that eats away at him each time you strap on your gear and kiss him goodbye with a, See you later, Miller. Strolling out the door like it’s casual. Like it’s nothing.

There’s a kind of helpless fury in it. A sick twist in his gut every time he watches you ride out. Like he’s some retired goddamn hunting dog. Trusted to guard the porch, but not sharp enough to run with the pack anymore.

Joel adjusts the volume dial on the radio like it’ll make your voice stay longer.

Tommy’s laugh cuts through the speaker. “Didn’t cry. I got snow in my eye.”

“In July? Sure.”

It comes in grainy and light, full of that same teasing bite you always give Tommy—enough to make Joel’s jaw tighten with a quiet, helpless kind of fondness. He almost smiles, but it doesn’t reach past the tight pull in his chest. You’re still picking your way through territory where any tree line might be hiding something.

Joel shifts in his seat, elbows on the table, jaw clenched tight. He tells himself you’re fine. You always are. You have to be.

The channel goes still for a few beats. Then, a crack of static. Some muffled shuffling. And—

“Wait—something’s moving in the trees. Left side, just past the ridge.”

Your voice. Sharper now. Less teasing and pointedly quiet.

“Copy,” Tommy replies, suddenly serious. “Keep eyes on—”

A burst of noise. A flurry of panicked voices overlapping and shouts. The unmistakable sound of gunfire.

Then nothing.

Dead air.

Joel’s heart drops to his boots. “Tommy?” he barks into the receiver. “Come in. What the hell’s happening out there?”

When there’s no answer, Joel shoots to his feet. The chair scrapes across the floor harshly as he crosses the room in two large strides, fumbling for his jacket. “Tommy? Goddammit, someone answer me!”

Nothing.

Joel’s heart thuds violently against his ribcage as he stares at the little black box in his hand like it’s an omen. He feels it rush in all at once—panic, guilt, helpless rage curling cold and mean in his chest. His ears are ringing so loud he doesn’t hear the slam of the door behind him as he tears out of the house and into the cold air. 

Something happened. The group was compromised. You were compromised.

And he’s not there.

He should’ve been there.

Joel doesn’t remember the sprint to the stables. Doesn’t remember shouting at Maria when she tried to stop him at the gate. Doesn’t remember half the ride out. All he knows is that his hands won’t stop shaking around the reins and the bile in his throat tastes like ash—a sick, gnawing pit growing in his gut.

When he finds the group what feels like hours later, just as the sun starts to rise behind the ridgeline—you’re nowhere to be found. His eyes scan the way everyone’s spread out, some with minor injuries and the others patching them up. 

No sign of you.

Tommy plants himself in front of Joel just as he hauls himself off his horse. He doesn’t even feel the way his knees jolt as his feet hit the ground. 

“Where the hell is she?” he rasps, voice so rough it sounds like it’s been dragged through gravel. “Where, Tommy?”

Tommy’s hands are out in front of him like Joel’s a wild animal about to snap. He’s got blood on his hands, but no signs of stab wounds or bullet holes anywhere on him. It’s not his blood. Joel’s stomach turns viciously at the sight, at the thought of whose it might be.

“She’s fine,” Tommy says, eyes wide and placating. “Took a hit, it grazed her side. She wouldn’t fuckin’ stay down.”

Joel knows he won’t feel any relief until he sees you, alive and breathing with his own eyes. “Where.”

Tommy steps aside just before Joel nearly shoves past him, nodding his head toward a rock outcrop a ways away from everyone else.

You’re sitting closest to the makeshift fire, Jesse crouched beside you to clean the gash along your side. You’re bundled in someone else’s coat, hair mussed and blood soaked through your undershirt and spattered across your cheeks.

Visibly shaken. Color drained. Bloody. Alive.

Joel’s throat locks up when your eyes meet his. You give him the smallest, tired smile—like you're trying to reassure him. That look. That stupid, brave little tilt of your mouth like everything's okay even when you're the one bleeding through Tommy's jacket.

It makes something in his chest crack wide open.

“Joel?”

He doesn’t speak.

Doesn’t know what to say.

Doesn’t trust himself for it to be anything good.

Joel takes three shaky steps towards you before his knees give out. 

He drops hard into the snow. He doesn’t catch himself, doesn’t try. Just falls forward like a penitent man bowing at the altar of a God he doesn’t believe in. His breath comes in short, ragged bursts, eyes locked onto the red seeping through your shirt like it's the only color in the whole damn world.

There’s a beat where nobody moves. Jesse freezes, half-done wrapping gauze, and you’re just sitting there, wide-eyed and shaking like a leaf, lips parted like you’re trying to say something—but Joel’s already reaching for you.

He's on you in the next breath. Not rough, not like usual, not with that greedy, hungry touch he normally has after you come back from patrol. His hands are trembling when they find your face, tilting your chin up gently, his fingers brushing away wet blood and dirt.

Tommy glances away. Jesse too, both men busying themselves with helping the others. It feels too private, even out here in the open.

“Goddammit,” he chokes. “God—baby–”

His voice breaks on the last word. Breaks, something sharp and gutted and boyish, nothing like the hardened man who's grown to guard his emotions like they’re classified. Your hands hover uncertainty over his shoulders, the side of his face. You’re worried. He can see it plain as day, written in the wavering line of your mouth.

“Hey—hey, I’m okay,” you say, voice low and urgent. “I’m fine. Look at me, Joel, I’m fine. It just—it just grazed me, okay? I’m fine.”

You’re not fine.

You’re too pale. You’re stone-cold. Your blood is still tacky on your shirt, drying beneath his body's warmth.

Joel presses his forehead to yours and exhales like he’s been kept underwater, and you were the surface he’d been clawing to.

You whisper his name again, quieter this time, and he shushes you. “Don’t—don’t talk, just—let me—” His fingers press to the pulse point at your wrist like he still needs proof. “Let me feel you.”

You don’t say anything else.

You just hold him.

And Joel doesn’t cry. He can’t. Something won’t let him, but he stays there in the snow for a long time, holding you like a man who thought he’d never get the chance to again.

The ride back to Jackson is quiet.

You fell asleep half-way through, head lolling back against Joel’s shoulder as you both sat in the saddle, your body loose with exhaustion and the emergency pain meds Jesse had in his pack. Tommy rides ahead, checking the trail, but Joel barely looks up. He just holds the reins with one hand and holds you tighter with the other.

You’re taken to the infirmary the second everyone files through the gates. Joel sits by your bedside in stormy silence, hands curled into fists and resting on his knees, the only thing keeping him together.

You talk to the nurse on duty. You even joke with her, cracked voice and tired eyes like it’s all part of the routine. Like getting shot is just another part of the job. And Joel sits there while someone else wraps you in new bandages and checks your vitals.

It makes his blood boil.

All he can think about is the way your voice cut out on the radio. The way he didn’t know if you were dead or bleeding out in some field, alone. And now you’re laughing. Now you’re telling the nurse, “I’m fine really, just sore.” And it makes him want to tear the whole fucking clinic apart.

Joel doesn’t say a word until you're cleared to leave. 

Not on the short walk back to your house. Not when you’re walking through the door, cleaned up. Patched. Your shirt’s gone, replaced by his coat and a thermal blanket around your shoulders.

Not when you nudge his arm gently like you’re testing the waters. Not when you say his name soft, like it might keep him calm before you’re heading towards the bedroom.

It doesn’t.

The moment the door shuts behind him, Joel erupts.

“You got a fuckin’ death wish?”

You freeze in your spot halfway across the room, turning to face him.

Joel doesn’t move. Just stands there, fists clenched at his sides. His voice is low, shaking with barely concealed rage. “You gonna tell me why you thought playin’ saviour was worth bleedin’ out in the snow?”

You don’t say anything for a few beats, eyebrows drawn together in a hard frown as you look at him. “What was I supposed to do, Joel? Jesse was pinned, Tommy would’ve taken the hit. I didn’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice!” Joel grates, stepping towards you. “You could’ve picked you. You could’ve stayed the fuck down like Tommy told you to.”

“I was trying to keep your brother from getting shot in the head,” you snap, the tension finally striking a flint. “I made a judgment call.”

“You made a stupid call,” he spits, voice loud and blistering. “You don’t get to do that.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” you repeat, your body growing stiff and tense.

“You shoulda fuckin’ stayed down.” Joel growls. He doesn’t even look at you when he says it—just rips his flannel off, tosses it hard at the wall.

You don’t flinch. Don’t even look away from him as his shirt falls and crumples into a heap on the floor. “What?”

“You heard me,” he snaps, turning to look at you again. His eyes are dark, fiery. “Jesus, you—do you even fuckin’ think sometimes? You were hit. You knew you were hit, and you kept goin’. You didn’t stop, didn’t stay down like you were told.”

He steps closer, eyes boring into yours, face twisted with something too furious to be rational. “You fuckin’ chose to be a goddamn hero, huh? Run into gunfire like it ain’t a fuckin’ death sentence? That it?”

He can see the second your expression changes, your own anger rearing its ugly head now, bitter and hot. “Don’t do that. Don’t make this about me being reckless when you know I was just trying to keep people alive. I did what I had to do.”

“No!” he snaps, pointing a finger at you, furious and stricken all at once. “What you had to do was come home. That’s it. That’s all.”

You blink at him, breath caught in your throat.

Joel can’t stop, all the emotions he’s been dealt over the past three hours finally boiling over and spilling through his lips before he can think twice about what he’s saying.

“You could’ve died,” he growls, pacing now, hands dragging through his hair roughly like he’s trying to rip the anger out of himself. “Two fuckin’ inches to the left and that bullet would’ve torn straight through your gut. You think you’d’ve made it to town in time for that? Huh?”

“That’s not fair.”

“No,” he snarls, spinning on you, voice cracking. “It’s not fuckin’ fair. Nothin’ about this is. You go out there, and I sit at home waitin’ to see if today’s the day I lose you. That the last thing I heard is your voice cuttin’ out in the middle of a fuckin’ ambush. That’s what I got to live with now. That’s what I saw every time I closed my eyes on that ride back.”

You stand there, lost for words. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“I know you didn’t,” Joel says, suddenly quieter, throat thick. He swallows hard, looking down, shaking his head like he’s trying to get a grip. “But I still almost lost you. And I don’t—fuck—I don’t know what the hell I’d do if that ever—”

His voice cuts off, ragged. Then he’s in front of you again, cupping your face with both hands. “You’re not allowed to do that to me again,” he whispers fiercely. “You’re not allowed to scare me like that.”

“Joel…” You lean into him, slow. Cautious.

Joel meets you halfway.

His mouth is on yours in a heartbeat—hot and bruising and pathetically desperate. His big hands frame your face, thumbs dragging down your cheekbones as he licks a wet stripe over the plush seam of your lips.

You gasp into his mouth when he pushes the blanket off your shoulders, when his palms skate down your sides to grip your hips hard. Not too rough, not yet, but he’s holding you because he needs you rooted. Anchored. Here.

Joel kisses you like he’s still furious at you, like he hates how much he needs you, like he’s punishing you for making him feel so afraid. It’s not soft, all teeth and tongue as he devours you, stealing the breath from your lungs.

When he pulls back, his mouth is wet with your spit, lips pink and swollen. “Need to taste you,” he mutters. “Need to feel you.”

Joel sinks to his knees before you can respond, breath huffing harshly against your stomach. His fingers tug your zipper down with frantic urgency, hooking his thumbs in your waistband to peel your pants down your legs in one swift motion.

There’s no teasing. No smugness. Just a heavy, sharp hunger carved into his face like stone as he pulls your panties to the side, exposing you to his greedy eyes. His hands slide under your thighs, lifting one over his shoulder as he brings his mouth to you like a man possessed.

The first drag of his tongue is slow. Reverent. Hot and wet as he parts the slick seam of your cunt with deliberate strokes that make your spine arch. He groans like your taste knocks the wind out of him, and then he latches on like he’s got a point to prove—to himself or you, he’s not sure. All he knows is that worshipping you is the only penance that could soothe the panic still clawing at his insides.

“Joel.” Your hands tangle in his hair, chin falling to your chest as you gaze down at him.

He sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue relentless, nose pressed deep against you. You whimper, twisting his hair in your grip, hips twitching—Joel doesn’t let you go anywhere. He’s got you trapped, your body pinned with his mouth buried between your thighs like he plans to die there.

It’s filthy, obscene—the way he devours you. Lips slick, beard growing damper with each swirl of his tongue, eyes half-lidded but still trained on your own.

Your eyes are glassy, pupils blown wide and black as spilled ink. There’s sweat beaded on your brow, lips parted and swollen as you let out small huffs of air.

Your thighs are trembling. You're soaked, arching against him, whimpering his name with tears welling in your eyes. And still—still—he won’t let up. He needs this. Needs to make you fall apart. Needs to prove to himself you’re alive by the way your body sings under his touch.

Joel can’t stop. Not until your thighs shake and you’re moaning that you’re gonna come, gonna come, Joel, please—

And you do. You fall apart on his tongue with a broken sob, legs clenching tight around his ears, hips grinding down into his mouth in weak twitches and shudders. He growls and holds you still, licking you through every last tremor until your body goes limp and threatens to sink to the floor.

Joel doesn’t let you fall—he lowers you down gently, like you’re made of spun glass, even as his hands skirt over the hem of your shirt. When he pulls it up, revealing the bandages wound tight around your side, he pauses. His gaze lingers on the wound. Jaw clenched. Something soft and wrecked flickers in his eyes.

Your hand comes up to cup the side of his face, your thumb running over the scar across his temple so gently it has his heart throbbing in his chest. “I’m okay,” you whisper. “Still here.”

Joel takes your wrist in his hand, lowering it down enough to press it hard over his heart. “You feel that?” he breaths. “That hasn’t stopped hammerin’ since I heard your voice cut out.”

You nod slowly. Your fingers curl into his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

Joel squeezes your wrist, turning his head to press a soft kiss to your forearm.

He climbs up over you, chest to chest—the jut of his cock where it tents the denim of his jeans grinds over the sensitive span of your cunt as he settles himself between your legs. He’s thick, heavy even through all the layers. 

Joel’s free hand snakes down his body, making quick work of his belt. He rips his zipper down, freeing his cock from the confines of his soaked boxers and letting it slap up against his stomach.

You moan at the sight of it—hard, straining, the tip a dusty red and wet with pre-come. Your legs widen unconsciously, thighs twitching on either side of Joel’s hips.

Joel takes himself in his hand, fist tight over the base of his cock as he runs himself through your puffy cunt, slicking the skin of his cock with your wetness. “Gonna fuck you,” he breathes, lining himself up between your legs. “Gonna feel you around me, baby, need it so damn bad.”

Joel slides in with one long, smooth stroke, your slick making it easy, and the groan he lets out sounds like pain. Like relief. Like he might lose his mind from the heat of you. Your breath hitches at the stretch, head lolling back against the hardwood as your nails dig into his shoulders.

“Mine,” he grits through his teeth, forehead pressed to yours, his hips grinding deeper as you cling to him. “You’re mine, baby. Always—always mine.”

You nod, panting, eyes glassy. “All yours,” you whisper. “Only yours, Joel.”

And then he moves.

Hard.

Desperate.

Unrelenting.

He fucks you like you’re the only thing tethering him to earth, like if he stops, he’ll unravel entirely. One arm hooks under your knee, pushing you open, deeper than before. His hips slap against yours, raw and hopelessly, but it’s not about getting off.

It’s about feeling you.

Every squeeze, every tremble, every gasp that leaves your mouth when he hits that perfect spot. 

Joel’s never felt like this before.

So angry.

So scared.

So in love.

He fucks you like he’s trying to imprint himself inside your body. His thrusts stitch you back to him, sealing you inside his chest so you can never leave. A mess of skin-on-skin and heat and slick as the two of you meet again and again and again.

“Could’ve lost you,” he growls against your throat. “Fuck, honey, I could’ve—Jesus—”

You wrap your arms around him. “You didn’t,” you whisper. “I’m here, Joel—I’m yours—”

He groans, hips stuttering, thrusts turning frantic. He can tell he’s close, that he’s been close since he sank to his knees in front of you.

“Say it again,” he pants, slamming into you with a low, wrecked noise. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you gasp. “Always yours—fuck, Joel—”

You wrap your arms tighter around him, pulling him closer. Your nails dig into his skin through the thin layer of his undershirt, legs locking around his waist to keep him pressed against you like you’re scared he’ll let go.

Joel doesn’t let go. He’d never let go. Not even when you moan his name like a prayer, not even when your nails rake down his back, not even when you gasp out a warning, your voice thin and needy. “Joel, I—gonna—”

“I know, baby. I got you.” His hand snakes down between you, finding your clit and rubbing quick circles over it, desperate to feel you come. “Wanna feel you. Need to—fuck—need to feel you, sweetheart. Please.”

You shatter in his arms with a broken sob, clenching hard around him as your body jerks, overwhelmed and too raw to hide it. Joel feels you pulse around his cock, the tight warmth of your cunt milking him.

It’s too much, and he’s coming with a groan that sounds like it’s been clawed from his chest. He buries himself to the hilt, hips jerking with every pulse, breath catching in your ear. “Fuck, fuck—” he pants, voice hoarse, “—love you, I love you, I thought I lost you, baby, I can’t…”

You’re both trembling when it ends.

Joel holds you there for a long time, forehead resting against yours, still buried deep inside you. He still won’t let you go. Not yet.

Eventually, when he’s calmed, he pulls back just enough to look at you.

You expect that same look from earlier—rage, fear, guilt—but it’s not there. Just love. Just deep, aching relief.

“I can’t lose you,” he says quietly. “I wouldn’t survive it.”

You reach up, trace the curve of his brow, the edge of his jaw. “You won’t have to,” you whisper.

Joel kisses you again. Softer this time. Sweeter. A delicate press of lips against lips. His fingers stroke your cheek, pulling back enough for his eyes to trace along your face. He follows the line of your brows, the shape of your nose, the soft curve of your lips.

He can’t feel anything other than love.

Gentle. Solid. Steady.

It’s only love.

mini nat's note: everyone please send good vibes for my hell sent ch*m final on monday...i literally need all the luck i can get. thank you so much for reading! mwah.

[angelsknifeprty]

imagine being loved by me . ۫ ꣑ৎ . - e.w

jackson!ellie x reader | 4.1k words

a/n: hiiii! i'm kinda nervous, this is my first time posting something smutty >.< i hope i did a good job, enjoy!

cw: nsfw, afab reader, cursing, smoking weed, they're both high but everything is completely consensual, nipple play (r! receiving), oral sex (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), two idiots high as fuck and desperately in love ghhhfhgfj

summary: your relationship with ellie is a recent development, at the point now of teetering on the edge of the deep end, so close to becoming something more serious for you both. with the help of a some maybe a little too much weed and how irritatingly good she looks in that grey hoodie of hers, you might just take that plunge.

˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖

you knew it was a bad idea, to let yourself get this high with ellie. you’d done this so many times before, truly abusing the gift that was accidentally stumbling into eugene’s old weed den while out on patrol together once. but back then you were just friends, two lumbering idiots excited over this newfound high that had you both giggling until you gasped for air. now things are different.

your relationship was still new, its legs still a little shaky like those of a newborn fawn. but being with ellie started to feel as easy as breathing the longer you spent together, slowly but surely figuring out what that transition from friends to lovers meant for the both of you.

“do you want any more?” ellie asked through stifled coughs, extending out her hand that held the lit joint. through a lot of trial and error, you had figured out what your threshold was and tended not to push that limit, your mind already sinking into that floaty headspace you loved so much.

despite this you hummed in thought for a moment, your reddened eyes shifting to ellie lazily leaning against the outside wall of her garage. she was wearing that grey hoodie that made your jaw clench every time you saw her in it, how she made something so simple look so good was unknown to you. you certainly weren’t complaining though.

“hmm… you know what? sure,” you shrug before reaching for the joint, because who are you to say no when she looks like that? you feel that familiar pang in your stomach when your fingers brush against hers. you almost laugh out loud at how pathetic it feels to still react to her this way, not yet fully wrapping your head around the fact that she’s actually yours. 

you get lost in the fluidity of well-trained muscle memory, passing the joint back and forth. and before you know it you’re getting that rush of fuzziness in your brain that brings out that dopey smile of yours and giggles with no particular cause.

ellie looks at you with an amused smile, noticing the adorably dumb look in your glossy eyes. 

“you okay, baby?” she chuckles as she observes you in your blissed-out state. you hum contently, the sound of that name rolling so perfectly off of her tongue, nodding enthusiastically in response.

her tolerance is a lot higher than yours, which you always complained to her about as if she could transfer the trait to you, so she was enjoying the entertainment of you being high out of your mind.

“y’look so pretty, els,” you sigh, ellie’s chest tightening at the way you’re looking at her like she hung the stars in the sky.

“really?” she huffs out a laugh, “i look like shit.” she gives herself a once-over, her hair a little messy from a busy day in jackson and her comfort hoodie thrown carelessly over her clothes.

you let out an exaggerated gasp, unable to fathom how she could look anything other than devastatingly gorgeous right now. 

“nooo, shit looks like you!” you say in a poor attempt to rebuke her statement, your befuddled condition making you fumble your words.

“oh wow, so you do agree?”

“no, no, no, wait! i messed up what i was saying-”

“uh huh, sure. c’mon, let’s get you inside, dork.”

˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖

things were peaceful for a while, the two of you in a cosy embrace on ellie’s bed as she reread one of her favourite savage starlight comics. you were draped across her chest, mindlessly glancing at the pages, entertained by the colourful art but not quite absorbing any of the plot.

you then make the mistake of looking up at ellie, cheek squishing against her shoulder as you admire her. your gaze flowed down the outline of her side profile like a water droplet. it started at her forehead, a place you so often left tender kisses upon. it beads down between her scarred brows, which you thought made her look so frustratingly cool, trickling across the freckled slope of her nose where it then drops off of the tip, leaving your focus right where her lips are.

your stomach flutters; the only thing your brain can focus on is how badly you want to kiss her. she wasn’t even doing anything purposefully enticing, but she didn’t have to for you to lose your mind.

ellie could feel your watchful orbs practically burning holes through her, unable to keep herself from looking back at you any longer.

“see something interesting?” ellie startles you a little as she breaks the silence, rapidly blinking at her as you regain your bearings.

“hmm… interesting is one way to describe it.” your voice has a lilt to it, the sound light and a little shy. ellie thinks you’re so precious.

“whatcha lookin’ at, pretty?” she pries, enjoying it maybe a little too much as she watches you fumble at the question, eyes darting between anywhere else in the room and what you were truly captivated by: her lips.

“ellieee…” you whine, moving so your face is hidden in her neck. your breath fans over her skin in a warm gust, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up as she swallows thickly. fuck.

“c’mon, i know you want something.” she’s purposefully trying to rile you up, placing the bookmark you made for her between the pages of her comic, and tossing it to the side. she was far more interested in you now.

“says who?” you weakly argue back.

“uh, says the look on your face. you’re not very subtle, babe.”

in all fairness, what you wanted might as well have appeared in a comedic thought bubble above your head with how clearly it was written across your face.

you mumble a quiet, “shut up,” ellie having you completely cornered. a low chuckle rumbles in her chest, your defeat amusing her.

“can you look at me, please?” ellie’s voice is gentle, that teasing cadence still present but it’s overpowered by something softer. she doesn’t just want you to look at her, she needs you to.

you pull away from your hiding place in her neck, bashful bambi eyes looking up at her finally.

“there she is,” ellie coos and it makes your head spin. your eyes gravitate back down to her lips, unable to ignore the magnetic pull they seemed to have. she knew what you wanted and you knew she wanted it too, but ellie just had to make it hard for you.

“tell me what you want and you can have it,” she whispers playfully. a reluctant groan leaves your wanting lips, (loving) hating the way she found such obvious joy in watching you squirm under her gaze.

you ultimately give in, the frayed rope that was tethering you to what was left of your self-restraint promptly snapping.

“please kiss me.”

so she does, her lips on yours in one fluid motion as she reaches up to cup your jaw. you sigh contently against her mouth now that she’s finally freeing you from this waiting game, melting as you hungrily chase each other's lips.

you feel lightheaded by the time ellie is gently guiding you onto your back, caging you in from above as if hiding you from the rest of the world. she was devouring you, selfish and possessive as she kissed you with an urgency that had you wondering if your lips would bruise. you were undeniably hers and ellie needed you to know it. and of course, you did, you didn’t see how things could be any other way.

it felt like you were about to burst; you could feel her everywhere. her calloused hand holding your face so sweetly, the mind-numbing kisses she was firmly planting onto your lips, hoping that her imprint would take root there and ruin you for anybody else. the way her knee slotted between your thighs with ease, the roughness of her jeans rubbing against you, leaving a tingle on your skin.

ellie had stolen all of the breath from your lungs, gasping for air as you pulled away from her, chest heaving. soft pants filled the air, sharing breathy giggles between the two of you. 

“hi,” you say dumbly, that same dopey grin from earlier stretching across your kiss-swollen lips.

“hi,” she repeats back, freckled cheeks dusted with a pink tint as she looks at you with glimmering eyes.

she barely gives you time to catch your breath before she’s leaning in to trail burning hot kisses down your jaw and the expanse of your neck, the flesh there sensitive under her loving attack. then she reached that spot, one she had discovered recently, pride swelling up in her chest after you made a noise she hadn’t heard from you before. she desperately wanted to hear it again.

a gasp of her name escapes your lips as she sucks and bites on the area, squirming beneath her as you feel her smile against your neck.

“yeah? you need something, baby?” she sounded so fucking cocky. if only you knew the way her heart was racing inside its bony cage, butterflies- no, more like a swarm of wasps invading her stomach. you looked so pretty underneath her, you sounded it too. the little hitches in your breath and your high-pitched whines had her hooked. it was like she was experiencing a whole new high as she watched you grow needier beneath her.

“need you.” your breathless plea is all she requires before her lips are back on yours, determined and eager.

as attractive as she looked in it you needed her out of that damn hoodie, your grabby hands tugging at it as a silent request for her to take it off. of course ellie obliges, why would she ever deny you?

she retreats for a moment to yank the grey fabric over her head, her t-shirt riding up a little in the process and it has you reeling. you felt utterly depraved having such a visceral reaction to the sliver of skin, feeling that familiar ache forming between your legs at the sight.

she was back on you again in an instant, but it wasn’t enough. you wanted to feel her, to bask in her body’s warmth as she drew those pretty sounds from you that she couldn’t get enough of.

“more, i need to feel you closer, fuck please-” your curious hands are creeping their way under her shirt now, nails dragging gently up her back. you watch as she shivers at the sensation, her head hanging low as a shaky breath passes her lips.

she’d do whatever you asked her to right now, grasping the hem of her t-shirt before pulling it over her head. you can’t help but gawk at her, completely stupefied by the sight. this was new, your clothes had always remained on up until now.

ellie feels on fire under your gaze, your half-lidded stare trailing over the definition chiselled into her stomach. you’re trying to add up every freckle you could see scattered across her pale skin, too many for you to count but you desperately wanted to know the number anyway because you wanted to know her.

“can i take your shirt off?” she sounds desperate and it puts you at ease being able to hear that she wants you just as bad as you want her.

“please, ellie,” is all you breathe out before she’s keenly dragging your shirt over your head. her eyes might as well be completely black with how big her pupils have grown, the weed mixed with the heavenly sight of you sprawled out beneath her enough to make her dizzy.

intimacy like this was somewhat new territory for you both as a couple. only recently was it that your eager hands and desperate touches made their way beneath the barriers of cotton and denim, a wall you hadn’t fully breached yet until now. but with how good she was making you feel, you knew you needed more.

brick by brick you tore it down, discarding each other’s clothing until you were left in nothing but your underwear. ellie needed to see you, all of you, her fingers twitching as they inched closer to your bra. she asks to take it off and you’re nodding your head in agreement before she can even finish her sentence. your back arches to give her room to unclasp it, feeling it grow loose around you before it’s being slid down your arms. there you are.

ellie is sure you’ve cast a spell on her, entranced by the sight of you laid almost fully bare beneath her, watching the way your chest would rise and fall as you sucked in breaths.

“you’re so fucking pretty,” she rasps in a tone reminiscent of the whines she would relentlessly mock you for. you were too far gone now to comment on it but you noticed, you could tease her about it later.

she can’t bear to not have her lips on you any longer, leaning down to trail sweet kisses down your neck once more, only this time letting herself go lower and lower.

a pathetic mewl escapes you as you feel her mouth capture one of your hardened nipples, arching into her as she sucks it into the wet warmth of her mouth. everything is so sensitive right now, the joint you smoked earlier still serving its purpose incredibly well. 

you would let her eat you whole if she asked, addicted to the contrast of her soft lips and her biting teeth as they began to mark the supple swell of your tits. you had barely started and she already had you seeing stars, her knee experimentally pushing against your clothed cunt with a little more force than before.

you’re positively soaked at this point, hyper-aware of the cool stickiness seeping through the thin fabric of your underwear. and it only gets worse for you when ellie at last decides to discard her sports bra, leaving her in just her boxers.

she’s so pretty above you, touching you in a way that makes you feel sacred.

ellie moves impossibly closer to capture your lips once more, she can’t get enough of you. you can feel all of her, skin to skin as your sensitive tits push up against each other as she lays her weight on top of you. the feeling of her grounds you, keeping you from feeling like you’re floating away. 

you’re panting into each other’s mouths, a mess of needy gasps and whines as you try and merge into one.

“please let me taste you, baby. i need it- need you.”

you’d be a fool to say no to her.

you watch as she kisses her way down your body, cherishing you like you were going to disappear at any moment. you’re throbbing beneath your underwear, clenching around nothing as she plants careful kisses over the material.

she chuckles as you whimper in frustration despite her needing this just as much as you. she looks up at you for any signs of discomfort that may have flown under her radar, but all she sees is unwavering adoration. you’re squirming but you wait so patiently for her touch, lower lip caught between your teeth in anticipation. so good for her.

you shudder as she drags your panties down the length of your legs, not missing the string of arousal that connects you to the fabric just a little longer before ellie’s throwing them in some random direction. 

she’s face to face with your aching cunt now, almost salivating at the sight of your glistening folds right in front of her, waiting for her to do something.

“ellie, please don’t tease,” you whine, hips bucking in a desperate attempt to entice her closer. she’s truly not trying to drag this out, although she does love to tease you, she’s just completely enamoured by the sight of you.

“sorry, baby,” ellie snaps herself out of her trance, “c’mere, need to taste that pussy,” she sighs dreamily.

it’s like you can feel the chemistry of your brain changing after the first drag of her tongue between your folds, all of your senses flooded by only her and you know now that you’ll spend the rest of your days chasing the feeling.

the sight of her between your thighs is already overwhelming, her eyes rolling back as she savours the heady taste of you. you can hear how wet you are as her tongue ravages you, moaning against you as if she was the one getting fucked. the pleasure was dizzying, your hand weaving into the strands of her hair in a desperate attempt to keep yourself tethered to this reality.

“fuuuck, ellie!” you squeal, her nose nudging your clit as she practically buries her face in your pussy. her eyes open to look up at you, a guttural groan rumbling in her throat as she watches your pretty face scrunch up in pleasure, brows furrowed and lips pouty as you let her have her way with you.

ellie can’t fathom how she’s supposed to want to be anywhere else but between your legs now that she’s finally gotten a taste of you. all of those longing glances and lingering touches from when you were both just friends had somehow led her here. her rightful place, she was sure of it.

she was taking mental notes of all the cute little noises she dragged out of you, noticing how you shuddered and whined when she flicked her tongue just right, clenching around nothing as she sucked your swollen bud into her mouth.

“god, you’re so fucking beautiful. can i use my fingers? please, baby, i’ll make you feel so good i promise.”

she sounds downright insatiable, begging you to let her make you feel good like she could feel it herself. she was convinced that she could, the wet patch on her boxers growing larger the longer she spent savouring you.

“yes please- oh fuck- please, ellie…”

she has rendered you almost completely mindless, dragging her finger up and down your slick folds. she experimentally pushes it inside of you, watching intently as your eyes flutter at the sensation.

“yeah, that feel good, pretty?” ellie asks in that low, sultry tone of hers that makes your stomach do cartwheels. all you can do is eagerly nod, lightning shooting through your limbs as she reattaches her mouth to your pussy. amidst all of this, she slides in a second finger, your slick helping her enter you with ease as a strangled moan leaves your mouth.

you could feel yourself hurtling towards the edge. the combination of her tongue lapping against your folds, her fingers dragging against that sweet spot inside of you and the weed still buzzing in your system has you ready to give her everything you’d been holding back.

she could feel it too, the telltale clenching around her fingers and the way you struggled to form a coherent sentence. and she was obsessed with it, about ready to cum in her boxers just from the taste of you.

“els, i’m so close- oh my god, please let me cum. please, please, please-”

she pulls away for a moment, still pumping her fingers into you to keep you on that edge.

“you gonna cum for me, baby? that’s right, give it to me, c’mon.”

ellie had learned alarmingly fast just how to coax you into giving her exactly what she wants, your legs starting to tense up as she dives back into you, lips messily making out with your cunt.

you could feel her everywhere and it almost scared you, completely unable to escape the undeniable reality of how fucking in love you are with her and it’s making you feral.

“e-ellie, i think i’m gonna- fuck, i’m cumming!” your mind goes blank as she pushes you over the edge, feeling the waves of it throughout your entire body as you convulsed around her fingers.

your hips buck frantically as you ride out your high, ellie’s muffled moans vibrating against your sensitive entrance as she greedily lapped up your juices. 

“oh my god, ellie! fuck, i love you, i love you, loveyousomuch-” you mindlessly babble without thinking, too far gone to notice the way ellie’s eyes widen and her thrusts speed up ever so slightly.

you let her indulge in you until you had to squirm away from the overstimulation, your body limp and tired after she had just wrecked you. you try to regain your bearings, feeling ellie remove herself from between your legs and move so she can hold you against her.

she litters sweet kisses across your face, humming happily as you turn your head to capture her lips with yours once again. you whimper at the taste of yourself on her mouth, melting into her until your breathing starts to even out.

“you okay?” she whispers, rubbing her hand soothingly up and down your arm. you hum sleepily, nodding your head in response.

“are you okay?” you ask her back, voice soft and a little hoarse now.

“yeah, i’m okay, baby. y’did so well for me.” ellie pecks the top of your head, completely smitten as she looks at your limp body cuddled up in her arms.

she thinks back to a few minutes ago of you professing your love for her as she made you come undone, her stomach fluttering at the recent memory. she debates waiting until you’re not half asleep to ask about it, but she just can’t help herself.

“did you mean what you said? when you said that… you loved me?” she’s nervous to ask, not knowing how she’d react if you had just said it on a whim. nothing more than just words.

“i said that?” you ask in confusion. you look mortified and ellie’s stomach twists. these aren’t the butterflies she had felt with you moments before, it felt like she’d been poisoned.

“y-yeah… you said it when you finished.” you’re quiet for a little while, this worries ellie. she feels like an idiot, her palms are starting to get sweaty. did she just ruin everything? fuck, fuck, fuck-

really you were just trying to rack your brain for when those very important words had left your mouth. and then you hear it, transported back to the memory in a third-person view.

she’s making you feel so good, your back arching as the shockwaves of your orgasm slam into you. you look down at her, and she looks undoubtedly obsessed with you. she’s latched onto your pussy like she’s starving, drinking in everything that you give her. and then you say it. a raw and terrifyingly real confession of, “i love you.” and you say it again and again, chanting it like a prayer as you promised her your heart like it was nothing.

“oh my god, ellie i’m so sorry.” she almost winces, she shouldn’t have said anything-

“i wanted to tell you how i felt properly on a date or something, not while you made me cum like a fucking loser, shit-”

ellie is confused for a moment, having been bracing herself for you to tell her that you don’t love her the way she definitely did you. but then you didn’t…

oh.

“this is so embarrassing,” you whine, furrowing your brows angrily when you see the cheesy grin making its way across ellie’s face. “don’t laugh at me! this is so humiliating.”

“no no, i’m not laughing at you! fuck no, i thought you were gonna tell me you didn’t mean what you said.” you tilt your head, the both of you now a little confused.

“oh…” you whisper. but if she wasn’t uncomfortable with you saying that you love her did that mean…?

“thought i was dreaming when i heard you say it. but i wasn’t and i am so fucking happy.” she holds you a little tighter now. “i love you so much, been wanting to tell you for a while now.”

“tell me again.” your request is simple but she knew how much it meant. ellie gently takes your hand and holds it in front of her face, leaning forward to press her lips to each finger tip.

“i love you,” kiss. “i love you,” kiss. “i love you,” another kiss.

there’s a warmth blooming in your chest that you can’t ignore and you feel so safe in her arms. floaty and calm whilst you snuggle into her side, your eyes flutter tiredly as she tells you she loves you as many times as you need to hear.

maybe getting a little too high with ellie wasn’t such a bad idea.

[nanamiskentos]

SALVATORE — jujutsu kaisen x reader minors dni

prologue. → going on summer vacations with the jjk men and things get a little...hotter?

pairings. satoru gojo x afab!reader / suguru geto x afab!reader / nanami kento x afab!reader / choso kamo x afab!reader / ryomen sukuna x afab!reader / toji fushiguro x afab!reader

warnings+. non-sorcerer/jujutsu au, from the back, exhíbitíonism, mild food play, ríding, máting press, creámpíe, against the wall, oral (f. receiving), fíngeríng, hey even in a cave! reader is called good girl, princess, baby, darling, my love.

word count. 4.1k! song inspiration. salvatore — lana del rey

a/n. update #1 writing this fic had me looking up shit on wikipedia pages abt cities around the world, had me checking meteorology maps...tried to choose cities i've been to but i was still racking my brains. update #2 btw whenever i write smut like this i'm filled with outstanding self awareness and minor shame but thats the fun of it 😭 this is day no.3 of me trying to rewrite this all from scratch update #3 day 4! fawkkkk i wanna go on holiday too now. lmao if i was in the sukuna one, i would have been mad as hell, istanbul is stunning <3

mp3. everything looks better from above my king, like aqua marine, ocean's blue

TOJI FUSHIGURO — all the lights in miami begin to gleam 📍 miami, america

"o-oh, fuck. think she's really tellin' me to keep going like this, don'tcha think?"

your boyfriend is mean when he's like this. sharp, jade eyes narrowed as they take in the sight of your puffy folds swallowing him up over and over as he's stuffing himself into your sticky walls. and if you turn your head away, from where you're smashed against the pillow, you can see the floor-to-wall ceilings of the high-rise penthouse that offers an uninterrupted view of miami's glittering skyline.

"how - how, did you even get this place, hah, toji?" it's a wonder you can even get a coherent sentence out right now, your guts are practically being stuffed with inches of your boyfriend's veiny cock, and it's leaving you, well, delirious.

but with humble credit and thanks to what you can assume is your own nasty grip, toji's not faring much better either. his brawny frame is practically shuddering, and while you can't see his face in this position, you're certain that a sharp canine has sunk into his lip, and his breath is coming out in hulking groans.

"heh, you're n-not meant to ask questions like that, princess? gotta, ohhh, gotta keep some business s-secrets up my sleeve, huh?" and he's practically a beast right now, handling you on all fours of this king-sized bed, draped in silk sheets the colour of red wine, "just a reward for a-, haah, a job well done."

any job well done from toji was most likely something illegal, but you can't even bring yourself to care, not when there's a bucket of chilled champagne on the glass table to your left, and certainly not when his fat cock is smearing right through you, leaving a coil in your abdomen that only he can unravel.

you whine, feeling the fat tip of his cock practically rummage and make a home in your cunt, "toji, wan' more," and you're pushing the plush of your ass against his pumping hips, and you hear his sharp intake of breath.

a rough hand has snaked underneath you, creating a small gap between you and the bunched-up fabric on the bed, and his callous fingertips are now circling sloppy, messy circles over your clit, leaving you bucking in his hold.

"n-now, stay still, princess. not done with you yet."

SUGURU GETO — ciao, amore. soft ice-creams. 📍 amalfi coast, italy

you're not sure how long you've been trembling under suguru's mouth, but it must have been an eternity under the ministrations of his tongue.

the sun has been blazing high, casting a golden glow over this part of the private beach, hidden away from the towns bustling with tourists like yourselves who had descended upon the coast for the summer.

soft waves lapped in ebbing waves, the rhythm breaking the perfect stillness of the afternoon, in this wooden cabana, separated from the terracotta villas.

and no, your mind was nowhere near admiring the turquoise waters of the ocean, but rather your lover's mouth practically exploring every inch of your cunt like this.

the tapered tip of his tongue had long been probing around your fluttering pussy, taking in every last drop of your pearlescent luster that was practically dripping over his chin.

not to mention the absolutely sticky and languid trails of melting ice-cream, each biting cream drop that fell on your hot swollen folds getting promptly cleaned up by the one who was enjoying this sweet game.

"shhh! don't wanna get kicked off this beach, do ya, pretty?"

and suguru looks positively devious, his violet eyes gleaming with crude intent. his black hair is a tangled mess, long locks falling victim to your clawing nails that tumble carelessly over his bare back, kissed by the sun and glowing with a soft, rosy pink hue.

and when he smiles, the sunlight catches onto his lips, making the slick on his mouth sparkle and wink up at you.

"been - it's been an entire hour by now, can't you just let me cum," you huff, closing the plush of your thighs around his ears, boxing him in.

geto flashes you a mischievous grin, running a slow finger through your sopping folds, and lightly brushing over your entrance as you mewl again.

"where would the fun in that be, pretty?" he murmurs, "love seeing how wet this cunt gets for me, need to let me have my fun."

what a devil. clearly, getting under your skin is a sport for him.

you're hardly given a moment to breathe before he's jostling two thick digits right into the thick of it once more, in and out, in and then out, as his thumb find its home on the slope of your bare mound again.

"besides, we can take it slow for 'nother hour, can't we?" and now suguru's toying with your clit, and his teeth lean down to graze the swollen, throbbing bud, "gotta see just how much you can beg for me."

NANAMI KENTO — catch me if you can, working on my tan 📍 gold coast, australia

"w-wait, darling," nanami shudders under your touch, under your fresh set of nails raking small patterns over his neck, "anyone could just walk past here, y'know."

you curl your lip, before pressing your mouth in an open mouthed kiss to his stretched neck, warm and flushed.

you can feel the galloping thrum of his pulse beneath your lips, the heat almost intoxicating, mingling with the faint tang of the pool water's chlorine, and the scent of banksia and frangipanis in the air.

you can also feel his thick cock dragging through your walls, as you ram the weight of your hips over and over again. it seems like the shimmering skyline of surfer's paradise was just what nanami needed, after months of work, and you're determined to make the most of your time here.

he's got you bouncing practically like a ragdoll, heavy balls swinging up and smacking your skin in what little space remains between the two of you, and he's panting into your chest, "whatd'ya gonna do if someone sees?"

"mhm, don' care, no-one's here, nanami."

his broad arms loop around you in the pool chair, as you straddle the sizeable bulge that's making a tent in his briefs, "nasty, sometimes, aren'tcha?"

you smile, as your husband's large hands roam over your back, making you arch your back into his touch — as he deftly pulls at the tight knot holding your damp bikini top together.

"ah, don't get shy now. let me see these," and you can only nod hazily as he lets your tits spill out, and press up against his bare, chiselled torso, "wanted this so bad, just a minute ago, yeah?"

"s-still want this," and for good measure, you grind your hips down over his cock with even more pressure, feeling him jolt with a quiet 'fuck!' underneath you.

"haah, that's not fair, darling," and he's crashing his weeping, curved tip so far into you, that you're certain you're seeing stars on the saltwater horizon, "what happened to playing nice?"

you know you should be weary of the flicker of challenge that glints in his stern brown eyes, softened by the haze of your squelching cunt, "do y-your worst, otherwise what? can't keep up?"

a cocky smile curves over his mouth, and that's the wave of satisfaction you were looking for, hoping that he'd take the bait.

he leans further back in the pool chair, now with an arm wrapped lazily around your gyrating hips, but you can feel his grip tighten, stealing the humid air right out from under you, "we'll see who can't play nice when you're begging for my cock to fill you up."

CHOSO KAMO — all the lights are sparkling for you, it seems 📍santorini, greece

"hey, shh, shhh..."

choso's voice is a low rumble as he glides his thick, leaking tip down your slick core, and you shiver as the cool ocean breeze mixes with the warm slick gathering between your bodies, "w-wow, you're doing so good, handling it so well, my love."

you must have made a good choice, choosing this suite. one carved seamlessly into the tan-rock of one of the island's famous caves. and well, your sweet boyfriend has been fucking you so incredibly that you feel your eyes start to water, blear away from the pretty blue and terracotta accents on the mantelpiece.

his girthy cock sinking into you send shivers to your pussy that leave you fluttering and squeezing around him tighter, clenching around the veins as he sinks even deeper, so the thickened head is practically kissing your cervix, and filling you in ways you didn’t know were possible.

"d-does it feel good for you too, cho?” you gasp, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, fingers playing with the soft choppy strands that fall around his shoulders, "this...this is what you wanted, right, baby?"

the pale mauve of his lips curves into a faint smile, and despite the sharpness of his thrusts making a home in your gummy walls, there's a tenderness in his shadowed, hazel eyes as his palm glides down your torso, cupping your tits gently, "w-would go anywhere in the world, if it was with you."

and he's looking at you with such love that you just cannot help but believe him when he says, no, shudders out a "you're so beautiful."

the sound of the water lapping against the rocks below fills the room, mixing with your soft whimpers, as the slow roll of choso's hips leave your puffy folds weeping. the thick, throbbing head of his cock brushes against your g-spot, right there, and you moan, lost in the sensation.

"god, y-you’re so good at this," he breathes into your ear, his voice hoarse and strained, and suddenly far more shaky, "ah - could do this forever."

"w-will you?" you whisper, eyes fluttering as you lose yourself in what is surely ropes of stringy white cum painting you lovingly inside, "wan' feel you all the time, cho."

choso's misty, flushed gaze locks onto yours, filled with a heat that makes your heart race, and fireworks shoot through your abdomen, "think you're g-gonna be my wife someday, yeah?"

you bite your lip, a shy smile painting your face despite the way that he's practically jostling inch after inch into your pussy, pressing into you like a vice, "really mean t-that, cho?"

"ahh, 'course i do," he shudders, brushing a thumb down the swan-arch of your neck, "now, hold onto me."

RYOMEN SUKUNA — dying by the hand of a foreign man, happily 📍istanbul, turkey

"huhh, oh my god! you're an animal," you huff at your fiancé, who's currently sprawled on the plush bed underneath your straddling thighs, under the sheer curtains that billow softly in the warm breeze from the open latticework windows.

and right now, sukuna looks like a mess.

and it brings you a great deal of satisfaction to see your usually composed and aloof fiancé so undone and disheveled, as he grins up at you — the black markings on his face creasing with the movement.

his rosy-pink hair is a tangled heap, but you can't resist running your fingers through the short, tousled spikes.

and his lips, which have been marking you up consistently for the past ten minutes, gleam glossy and full, as his crimson eyes lock onto yours with the smug satisfaction of a cat who's gotten its way.

he'd barely waited a mere minute after the two of you had arrived back to your hostel's room, from a whirlwind tour of the sultanahmet district, before he had pounced on you, and had practically tore your long skirt off.

you don't quite think it's worth mentioning that you've been pawing equally at your boyfriend in the same time as well, pulling his thick and lengthy shaft out of the confines of his boxers, and swiping a thumb over the angrily-gleaming tip.

"d-didn't even take a second to think about all the places we just saw? the history lessons, and - sukuna, were you even listening?"

by now, you're fighting back heaving shivers at the way the pads of his calloused fingers run under your top.

"hah! yeah, yeah. history and all that," he murmurs, low and amused, but his focus is clearly elsewhere, his lips now resuming their previous task of snapping at your torso, letting pretty berry-red marks beam.

you roll your eyes, though a smile tugs at the corners of your own glossy mouth, "y-you're impossible," and you try not to squirm as his forefinger and thumb on each hand pinch at a nipple under your top, "don' even know why i bothered bring this...this camera around. the guide said that these sights were o-once, oh fuck, sukuna, get a grip, said the sights were once-in-a-lifetime b-breathtaking."

"breathtaking, huh?" sukuna shifts closer to you, scooting you further over his wide lap, and his voice has dropped to a low and sultry whisper that sends a shiver down your spine, and leaves you aching, "i think you're breathtaking. wan' explore this," and here, he snaps at the elastic band of your lace panties, "instead."

"and besides, i was listening," and now, he's patting his sculpted, exposed thighs behind the plush of your ass on him, "the guide said that this city straddles two continents."

he's emphasising his words with a deliberate tap, clearly hoping you'd catch the awful word-play.

"say something like that again, and i'm booking the next flight home."

"hah, so now you hate it when i am cultured."

by now, his two rough hands kneading at you has left you...airless. thick heat has been pooling in your core, and you just can't help but let out a soft whimper, "sukuna…only wanted y-you to focus."

he shakes his messy head, laughter rumbling deep in his chest, under thick pectoral muscles, "no can do, brat. you’re my focus now. done enough sightseeing outside today, wanna do something inside."

"you’re impossible!" but you gasp as he skims a thumb over your cloying, dewy clit, making you jolt.

you know he must be in a rare, mellowed mood because he breathes, "impossibly in love with you," and it's quiet, teasing as the heat of his breath ghosts over your skin, "now tell me how much you want this, and maybe i'll think about giving you a different type of lesson."

franky, by now you want nothing more than to be filled with heavy, hot inches that curl into you, sloshing their way to the most sensitive spot of all, and sukuna must see that on your face.

"i -," you begin, but the words falter as he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, and the weeping tip of his cock taps against the wet pool staining your underwear darkly translucent.

"just say it, brat. tell me how bad you want it, i'll even be nice this time," he urges, his voice a sultry purr, "just gon' give it to you as you ask, yeah?"

"wan' you in me, 'kuna," you finally admit, breathless, "i want you so much it hurts."

"good girl," he mutters, his eyes darkening with desire. "now you're getting the right idea."

you sigh, content, but then still your rocking hips suddenly, "but after this, we're still going out to the bazaar for dinner."

"for fuck's sake."

GOJO SATORU — like a boss, you sang jazz and blues 📍paris, france

you're not quite sure where exactly you should be training your ears, whether you should be listening to the sultry notes of a saxophone that wrap around the plush velvet booth where you and gojo are seated.

or the thick, clingy swish of his fingers practically bullying themselves in and out of your pussy. the air is thick with the scent of expensive cigars that make you wrinkle your nose, and fine whiskey (that makes gojo wrinkle his nose) and the sweet tang of your own slick, privately, just for the two of you.

your boyfriend sits close to you, his left hand tight on your waist, and the other working a fine instrument, bunching up underneath your ysl silk dress.

"baby, look at how your perfect cunt's talkin' to me," he's whispering, and you can hear the sheer glee in his voice, his breath hot against your ear.

meanwhile, your jaw is slack and you're doing your best to not meet his touch with a sultry, rhythmic grind of your own hips, but the knot is quickening and tightening within you.

but gojo just smiles, and you can see the blue in his eyes darken underneath his sunglasses that have slipped slightly down the slope of his nose, "but can't have everyone hearing this melody, can we? might think you were the main fuckin' attraction for the night and not -" he cocks his head to the quartet serenading the paris night sky, and the other patrons of this filthy wealthy club.

you just sink your teeth into your painted lip, suppressing a whine as he curls three fingers within you, reeling you entirely pliant and having you lean against his broad chest under his jacket, "b-but satoru, 'm getting close."

he's being awful, you think. and when he had pulled his hand out earlier, it had been entirely coated in a ribbon of your arousal, the slow syrup beginning to run down his slender digit, but he had parted his lips and let not a drop go to waste on his tongue.

the music is swelling, it's a jazzy crescendo that fills the air, and your gaze hazes and wonders, focusing on the open window where the eiffel tower stands ablaze in lights. soft gasps are escaping your lips, when gojo starts slamming his fingers up and up further, right up to his glossy knuckle, clearly searching for your g-spot.

and you are so glad that this booth is turned away from the rest of the club's patrons, for if they saw you, it would be no secret as to what exactly was going on underneath your gown.

"focus on me, love. just focus on how you're soaking me."

he's pressing his fingers impossibly deeper, stroking your walls in a way that make it impossible to think of anything else but him.

"gojo, please…" you breathed, struggling to keep your voice low, "what if someone sees?"

he laughs, pressing his mouth to your neck, and you know he's inhaling the new scent that you had picked up at the luxury flagship stores earlier, his treat.

"let them. paid good enough money to get in here," and now he's getting more insistent, practically ravishing your aching pussy now, "besides, they wanna say anything about it? i'll cut out their tongue."

"p-pretty sure that's, mmph, i'm sure that's i-illegal, 'toru."

"don't want your pretty head thinking about anything else right now, 'kay?" and god, it's one of life's greatest works, how he just knows how to work his magic like this, and the way that he's pinching, rolling and twirling his fingers has you convinced that the holy six-eyes technique, passed down in the sacred tradition of the gojo clan, is being put to nasty work.

sure enough, a little spark! there, and a bigger zap! against your clit practically confirms your suspicions, as does the unearthly glow you catch in gojo's wide eyes, and you can feel yourself hurtling towards a precipice, panting open-mouthed against him.

"dirty girl, you don’t want to make a scene, do you?" he says this like he was not the one who pulled you into this booth, and palmed his way up your slip-dress. like he's not the one who tore into your lace panties, and shoved them into his pocket.

"it feels so good, satoru,” you babble, barely able to contain yourself, as he scissors his fingers wide, nudging your walls apart, "i can’t — "

"then don't," he interrupted, his voice low and commanding, "just let it happen. i want to hear you, i wanna hear her too, but only if you can keep it down."

you nodded, breathless, watching as waiters in impeccable black-and-white attire glide between the tables, carrying trays of delicate hors d'oeuvres and glasses of dom pérignon.

"good girl," he murmured, his fingers curling just right, pushing you closer to that exquisite precipice, "now, be quiet and enjoy the moment."

just as he pinches your clit, you feel everything around fall away in shattering starfall. bolts of lightning shoot and splash through your lungs, stilling your heart, leaving your cunt pulsing with a life of its own, fluttering against satoru's fingers which still haven't stopped.

it's only then you realise that the band has stopped playing, and the other patrons of the clubs are leaning out of their seats, slapping their hands together in fervount applause.

but you can only stare, dazed and boneless from the remnants of an excellent fucking orgasm, as gojo leans in, just over the shell of your ear.

"how about we go back to the hotel room? wanna see an encore?"

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Caught In the Act✨

Pre-outbreak! Joel Miller x Roommate! fem reader

A/N: Thank you to @littlevenicebitch69 for showing me that video that sparked the inspiration for this fic 😘 No beta, but I had so much fun writing this one!

Summary: Thinking you’re home alone, you decide to unwind in bed, but the last thing you expect is to have Joel Miller, the man you’re renting a room from, find you naked in bed.

Word Count: 4.1k

Rating: Explicit 18+ Only MDNI

Tags: Vibrator use, porn with plot, yearning, feelings, infatuation, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, dirty talk, roommates

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The sunlight trickles against the sheer curtains as the room swelters with heat. The buzzing sounds fill the bedroom as your hips rock against the silk sheets, your fingers curling with every meticulous circle the vibrator makes against your swollen clit. 

   “Joel,” you moan freely, knowing he isn’t home, not at this hour of the day. It’s just you and your breathy whispers of his name, pretending the vibrator is his thick fingers stifling an orgasm from your needy clit, pretending the dampening sheets are his greying tousled curls as you tug and pull, pretending his large tongue is consuming you entirely as another moan slips from your lips.

   You shouldn’t be thinking about the man you’re renting a room from like this, shouldn’t be moaning his name while your vibrator is pressed firmly against your bundle of nerves, but you just can’t help yourself. He’s just so hot the way his veiny hands open whiskey bottles as his strong muscles clench tight around his button-up flannels he always looks so damn good in. And he’s so fucking sexy the way he smirks while his Southern drawl falls from his plush lips every single time he talks to you with those big brown eyes that you just want to sink into. You can’t help but want him all the time, even though you really shouldn’t.

   “Ohhh, fuck,” you whine as you hit that spot, right where it feels like you’re about to shed your orgasm at any second. So you speed up your motions, pressing down harder as you moan his name again, letting it fall off your lips like he’s here with you now, like he’s taking you exactly how you like it. 

   You’re breathing so hard and focusing on your ragged breaths and the sounds of the whirring vibrator that you don’t even hear the door being jarred open or see the brooding man that stands against your bedroom door. You don’t notice until you hear that thick, undeniable voice that only belongs to one man. That man being Joel fucking Miller.

   “Jesus Christ, sweetheart. Moanin’ my name and I ain’t even touchin’ you? Must want it bad,” he chuckles, a large smirk pressed on his mouth as he leans with crossed arms against your painted door frame.

   You jump from the sudden intrusion and shut the vibrator off, panting and sweating from your almost orgasm as you work to throw the covers over your naked body. “Jesus, Joel! I didn’t know you were home. I'm sorry… I.” Fuck. This wasn’t supposed to happen, he wasn’t supposed to see you like this! 

   He stops you mid sentence, holding up his large palm as he clears his throat. “Ain’t gotta apologize, sweetheart. Why don’t you just carry on? Besides, I could hear you moanin’ my name the moment I stepped in the house. Not gonna lie, it kinda turned me on. And then walkin’ in and seein’ this? Well, jus’ pull those covers back and let me see that pretty glistenin’ pussy. You want a little assistance there?” he nods, eyes darkening into black pits as you see the outline of his hard cock beneath his worn jeans. 

   You swallow and choke on your own spit, eyes widening as you slowly reveal your slick center to him once again as you spread your legs wide. “There ya go, sweetheart. Look at how fuckin’ wet you are. Goddamn,” he groans as he rakes a large hand slowly over his greying scruff. “Go on, be a good girl and turn the vibrator back on for me,” he replies in a raspy tone that sets your core on fire.

   You slowly press the button, letting the vibrations slow your pounding heart rate as you stare up at the man you’ve been dreaming about from the moment you stepped foot into this house. “You want me to…”

   He nods, dropping his jaw open as he takes in just how wet you already are for him. “Yeah, put it back on that pretty clit, sweetheart. Wanna see.”

   Your mouth parts open the moment you place it on your throbbing mound, your mouth dropping open as you gaze up into pitch black eyes that want to consume you whole. You hold in a moan, spreading your legs wider as the vibrator circles against your puffy clit, but what feels even better is Joel standing there drinking down the image of you getting yourself off while he watches. 

   “Goddamn, darlin’. Look at you,” he whistles, untucking his flannel shirt from his jeans as he stalks over to the edge of the bed, kicking his boots off as his body weight makes the bed cave as he crawls on top of the sheets.

   “Joel,” you whine, watching his big black eyes come closer as he props himself up beside you, one hand coming down on top of yours while the other tucks a lock of hair behind your ear.

   “Let me jus’ give you a hand there, sweetheart. Let me take control,” he growls, grabbing onto the end of the vibrator as he presses it further into your folds, circling slow, meticulous circles as he draws a breathy moan from you. 

   “That’s it, Attagirl,” he praises as your back arches off the bed, taking the vibrator a level up as he grinds it against your slick folds.

   “Ooooh, fuck,” you whine, twisting your fingers into the soft material of his flannel while his gorgeous face hangs just over yours, his big eyes making another wave of slick slip from your center.

   “Feels good, don’t it? Yeah, right there,” he purrs as he pushes it down close to your dripping hole, hitting that one special spot that makes your legs start to shake.

   “Yes, Joel. Please, don’t stop,” you beg as you grip his forearm with a tight fist.

   “I’m not gonna stop till that pretty pussy’s soakin’ my hand, sweetheart,” he smirks, turning the vibrations up even higher as your body hums with electricity from his touch. “If I would’ve known sooner that you’ve been wantin’ this, I would’ve already been on my knees with my mouth between your thighs,” he groans as another moan comes crashing through the room.

   You start to feel the coils snap in your belly, and then hot heat starts to slide down your spine as your orgasm starts to break. “Joel, I’m not gonna - fuck, I’m coming!” you scream as you let the floodgates open and latch on to his veiny wrist.

   “Jesus Chris, you’re fuckin’ soakin’ me,” he says in awe as slick sprays from your pussy, coating his hand in your release as your back arches off the mattress and your body hums with your intense orgasm. Joel works you through it, calling you a good girl as he shuts the vibrator off and just slowly circles it over your aching center until you’re coherent enough to open your eyes and breathe normally again.

   He throws the vibrator to the side and slides a calloused hand carefully from your neckline, in between your breasts, skating down your abdomen, and ending right above your mound. He smiles down at you as he takes his time to ghost his fingers over your soaked folds, stifling a whimper from your lips as he hovers over your puffy clit. 

   “You look so pretty comin’ undone, darlin’. Wanna see it again, this time wanna really feel it.” He presses the pad of his thumb down on your bundle of nerves, drawing meticulous circles, making you cant your hips up as you soak in the way his fingers feel like pure magic. 

   “Oh god, please,” you beg, throwing your head back as he slips a finger inside your dripping hole. 

   “I got you, sweetheart. Gonna make you feel real good now, jus’ hold tight.” Before you know what’s coming, he crashes his lips down on yours and swallows a moan as he curls another finger inside, stretching your walls as he reaches that soft spongy spot that you can never reach yourself.

   You lean into the kiss, breathing in his woodsy scent, tasting the sweat of the Austin sun on his lips, feeling the way he slips his tongue inside your mouth and swallows every sound you make while he repeatedly fucks his fingers deep inside your pussy, making you feel like you’re floating on thin air. 

   You wrap your arms around his neck, pushing your fingers through his dark tousled curls as a groan leaves his lips and enters your mouth while he repeatedly takes the breath from your lips. He licks inside you while his thick fingers make wet, obscene sounds as he fucks deeper, uncoiling that same tension he already snapped just minutes ago as he repeats the process all over again.

   He unhooks from your lips, finds a steady rhythm as he slips from your hole and full on rocks his fingers up and down your folds, brushing the heel of his wrist over your puffy clit that screams for him to take you over the edge again. 

   The room is suddenly too hot with his weight on your chest, his expert fingers moving at an impossibly fast pace as your core burns hot and bright, begging for him to make you come again.

   “Jesus, fuck - I’m right there. God, it feels so fucking good, Joel,” you stifle as your jaw slackens and your body starts to vibrate the more his fingers work and work at your core. 

   He slips two fingers back inside you, hitting that one spot that makes you see stars, and then he’s whispering filthy words against your parted lips. “Such a good fuckin’ girl lettin’ me use these fingers on that pretty pussy, wonder what you’d feel like takin’ my cock next,” he smirks as he nips at your bottom lip, pulling another moan from your throat. 

   “Please, Joel,” you beg.

   “Is that an invitation, sweetheart?” he chuckles, raising a thick eyebrow as he looks you deep in the eyes with those beautiful brown eyes that are blown wide.

   “Yes, want your cock, Joel. Want you to - oh, fill me up - fuck,” you whine as you feel your release start to flow down your insides. 

   “Yeah, fuckin’ spill for me, that’s it. Atta fuckin’ girl,” he growls as he presses deep inside that spongy spot, and then you’re completely done for. The slick pools down your core, covering Joel’s knuckles and the inside of your thighs as the orgasm takes a hold and knocks your head back against the cotton pillow.

   “That’s it. So pretty, baby,” he coos as he works you through it once again. 

   The fog fills your brain as every euphoric feeling takes its hold on you, holding you down against the damp sheets as you focus on the man that hangs above you. When you finally come to your senses, Joel uncurls his fingers from your core and pops the digits into his mouth, sucking and groaning as he indulges in your sweet taste. 

   “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you taste better than a shot of whiskey,” he groans as he delves his fingers back inside you, collecting slick on the tips of his calloused fingers and brings it up to your lips. “Open up, sweetheart. Try a taste,” he purrs.

   You part your lips and allow him to enter. You take his two fingers and suck, glancing at him with glazed over eyes as your sweet taste slides down the back of your throat. 

   “Goddamn. That’s picture worthy, sweetheart. You suckin’ on my fingers while you lick off your own slick? Jesus Christ, you’re gonna fuckin’ ruin me,” he murmurs as he looks at you with wide, blown out eyes.

   You giggle as you tip your head up, wrapping your fingers around the collar of his flannel as you tug, pulling just enough to expose a trail of dark chest hair that’s saturated in sweat. “Just like you’ll ruin me. But I’m okay with that. Just need you right now,” you pant out, popping open more of the buttons of his flannel until he gets the hint and throws it off, exposing his broad, muscular chest that’s beaded in glistening sweat, and his happy trail disappears under the material of his dark jeans.

   “You want me inside you, sweetheart?” he whispers as you hurriedly unbuckle his belt and start popping open the top button. 

   “Yes, want your cock inside me. Please, I need you,” you beg as he smiles down at you with glossy brown eyes.

   “Need me to fill you up? Want me to fuck you nice ‘n deep?” he smirks as he unzips his jeans and slides them off his legs, his boxers following swiftly after.

   You gulp as his massive cock springs up against his soft tummy, taking in just how big he is as precum spills from the slit. You gawk at him when he wraps a hand around his large length and starts spreading the precum up and down his shaft meticulously. 

   “Mhm,” is all you can get out as you watch him stroke himself up and down. Fuck. 

   “Spread those legs then, sweetheart,” he smirks as he positions himself right between your legs. You can only whine and knead your breasts together as he takes the tip and slides it along your folds, collecting slick on his swollen tip that’s red and throbbing just for you. He rubs it along your overstimulated clit and chuckles when you pant his name out. 

   “So fuckin’ beautiful,” he drawls as he positions himself at the entrance of your sopping wet hole. “Such a messy girl, too. All this for me? Goddamn. Gonna fill you up real good.” Before you have time to say anything, he thrusts inside you, filling you so full as you gasp at the wide stretch he makes.

   “Jesus Christ, you’re tight, darlin’. Jus’ needed this big cock to stretch you out, s’that right?” he groans, caging you in with his muscular arms as he ruts deeper inside you, filling you to the brim with every languid stroke of his massive cock.

   You throw your head back, clawing your nails down his broad back as you moan nonsense while he generously slides his thick length back and forth, slipping out just enough to ram back inside you with a sting to your insides as his tip continually kisses the back of your cervix. 

   It’s like you can’t get enough, need more of him, need every inch of his skin to crawl into yours as he takes you to the edge again. You’ve never felt a stretch like this, never been so cock hungover, not until Joel fucking Miller slipped inside you, and you’re afraid you won’t ever get enough of him now. 

   “More,” you beg, panting from every motion of the snap of his hips, moaning every time he’s deep inside your clenched walls, splitting them open with every single rutting motion he gives.

   “You want more, sweetheart? I’ll give you more. Yeah, give you jus’ what you want,” he smirks as he bends your knees up, folding you into a pancake shape as he crawls over you with his beautiful, broad body. “Careful what you ask for. Might not be able to take it,” he chuckles, eyes darkening with trouble written all over them. 

   He spears inside you, thrusting so deep that you swear you feel him inside your stomach, hitting that spongy spot that makes you gasp as your back arches off the damp sheets. “Fuckkkk,” you moan, your voice carrying through the entire room as his deep grunts collide with yours.

   “Yeah, s’right. Take it,” he growls, nipping at your collarbone as your fingers fist in his tousled curls. “Be a good girl and come on my cock,” he demands as his hips thrust violently against yours.

   You have no more control. The room is heavy and hot as your musk and sweat collect over the other, your fingers dragging down his back as you clench up and let your sweet release slip out, coating him in your slick. “Joel, feels - fuck, I’m coming,” you moan into the shell of his ear.

   He stills his thrusts for a few seconds, feeling your walls clench around his cock as you start to soak him, the flow not stopping even as you tilt your head back and scream from the blistering heat that settles in your core.

   “Oh, that’s a good fuckin’ girl. Squeezin’ so tight, milkin’ me with that slippery cum, Jesus Christ,” he moans as he thrusts back into you, not wasting a moments time as he chases his own release.

   You settle into a fog, his deep pants and groans reverberating off the walls as his heavy hands settle on your hips, fucking into you so deep that you feel drunk and so full of him that you swear you should be satiated, but you’re not. You’d let him pump you full of his cock all night in every different position, if only you could continue to do this night after night.

   “‘M not gonna last, sweetheart. Where do you want me?” He grinds his teeth together in concentration as he tries to hold it in just a little longer.

   “Inside me. Fill me up, handsome,” you purr.

   His jaw ticks, and something like fire lights in his glossy eyes, and a devilish smirk forms on his plush lips as he thrusts once, twice, three more times and then pounds you as hard as he can. He leans his forehead against yours and lets out a guttural groan, feeling the white ropes of cum paint the back of your cervix as he gushes all inside you.

   “Fuck me,” he moans, not willing to move till he has all of him spilled inside your walls. He slowly pulls out of you, and you feel the warmth of your own slick and his release mix together as it gushes outside your pussy and down your thighs.

   “Look at you, such a pretty little mess you are, ain’t ya,” he smiles, staring at your legs splayed wide as he dips a finger down against folds, collecting the mixed cum together on his index finger. “Open up, pretty girl,” he smirks.

   He takes his index finger and slots it between your glossy lips, letting you lick and suck on his finger. You swear his eyes widen even further as his black pupils expand into pure lust. “So good,” you moan, wrapping your lips around his finger as you tease and suck on his slick covered digit.

   “Goddamn, look at you. You’re jus’ a wicked little tease, ain’t ya?” he groans, dragging the finger from your lips and pulling it into his warm mouth, sucking with a deliciously hungry groan that makes your eyes widen with heat. “Delicious,” he smirks as he pops his own digit from his mouth, grinding out another moan from your throat as he topples on the bed beside you.

   You both breathe raggedly as you look from one to the other, both locked in a heated staring match, his fingertips lingering on the back of your neck as he pulls you closer to his glistening chest. “That was…” 

   “Unexpected, but amazin’ all the same,” he finishes with a smile curled around his mouth. “You’re tellin’ me you’ve been livin’ in this house for moments, and you weren’t plannin’ on tellin’ me you thought ‘bout me in bed?” His eyebrows raise, and he looks at you square in the eyes, a sly smirk crossing his mouth.

   “I didn’t wanna risk getting kicked out,” you say with your lips molded together in a tight gesture. 

   “Kicked out, huh?” He chuckles and shakes his tousled curls. “Sweetheart, I found you in your bed moanin’ my name. Hell, you could’ve told me that first day you walked in. Think I would’ve taken you right there on the counter if I knew you were into me,” he chuckles.

   “Get out of here,” you laugh as you playfully push him in the chest. “You would not have.”

   “Oh yes I would. Thought you were a knockout from the minute you came through the front door with those little daisy dukes and those beautiful eyes. Shit, I’ve had a thing for you since day one, sweetheart.”

   You purse your lips and give him a once over, assessing his genuine brown eyes that seem covered in softness. Holy shit. He’s being serious. “Really?” you ask breathlessly.

   “Really,” he nods, curling his fingers through your hair and pulling you forward, till your mouth collides with his in a long, sensuous kiss that sends music running through your ears. His lips feel like velvet, and his tongue tastes like cinnamon. 

   When you fall away from his lips, he smiles. “We gonna make this a habit?”

   “Do you want to make this a habit?” you ask with a raised brow, hope stirring in your chest.

   “I mean, ‘course I do, darlin’. A pretty thing like you should be fucked well and taken on nice dates. Think we got the fuckin’ part down, jus’ gotta take ya to dinner now.” He winks and flashes his honey-glazed eyes, and you feel as if you could drown in those syrupy eyes. 

   “That what you tell all the girls who turn into your roommate?” you giggle.

   “Now, sweetheart. You’re rentin’ a room from me. If you wanna be roommates, then technically you’d need to stay in my room, in my bed, in my arms,” he smiles as he pulls you flush to his broad chest, draping an arm around the back of your hip as his fingers softly tease at your soft skin.

   You hum into his touch, giving him a dreamy smile as you drag your nails against his silver scruff. “Roommates, huh? Is that what we’re gonna be?”

   “Roommates, fuck buddies, lovers… s’hard to say, darlin’. But I like you, and I’d like to explore whatever this is.” His tone is so sincere that it makes butterflies flit through your stomach at the possibilities of what this could turn out to be. 

   You push your fingers through his messy curls, reveling over his deep groans as you drag your nails down his scalp. “I like you too, Joel. A lot, actually,” you blush.

   “Figured as much when I caught you moanin’ my name while usin’ that little vibrator on your pretty pink pussy,” he winks, making you blush at the way he drags out the words and keeps his brown eyes locked tight on yours. 

   You shake your head and groan when he drags his thick thumb over your lower lip. “Bet I’m not the only one. What have you been thinking about at night, in the shower, in your bed?” you smirk, making his cheeks redden at the mention of it.

   “Yeah, yeah, sweetheart. You know I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout you, too. Been wonderin’ how sweet you were. Turns out you’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever put my lips on.” He curls his lips into a delicious smile and flips you over to where your back is flush with his sweat-covered chest, lacing his calloused fingers with yours as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his scruff scratching softly along your jawline. 

   You lay there in the twisted sheets, inhaling the musk that makes up Joel Miller, embedding his woodsy pine scent deep into your memory. This feels… right, like this is where you’ve always belonged, in his arms.

   “How’s ’bout I take you on a date Friday night? We could go see a movie, I’ll buy you a big thing of popcorn, hold your hand, maybe pull you into my lap so I can kiss you all I want, then I’ll take you back home and make love to you in my bed all night long.” He places a gentle kiss to your cheek, and you melt into the feel of him. 

   You squeeze his hand and brush your lips over his knuckles, giving him a lazy smile as you turn to look back at him over your shoulder. “Okay, cowboy. You’ve got a deal.”

   He brushes his lips over yours and pulls you close so he can trace his lips over the shell of your ear. “Alright, pretty girl. It’s a date. Now, how ‘bout we go take a shower, and I can make you some dinner. Maybe go for round two after with my mouth between those pretty thighs of yours,” he whispers as a chill runs down your spine, heat building back in your core.

   You huff out a laugh and stifle a groan. “Mmmm, alright then, cowboy. I’m all in.”

   He presses his lips against yours and then tugs you up from the bed, lacing his fingers with yours as he leads you to his room. “Gonna take you for the ride of your life, sweetheart,” he smirks.

   “I’m counting on it,” you smile. 

   And so it begins.

[lowkeyerror]

Congrats on Your Divorce

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Notes: Requested, fluff & smut, librarian!reader, divorced!Wanda, smut, fingering, thigh-riding, cunnilingus

Summary: You befriend Wanda, a regular at the library you work at, after learning about her divorce. The friendship becomes something more one day when you come over to help her with her sick kids. As your relationship progresses you even talk about buying a home together, which leads to a physical manifestation of how much you love each other.

An: It took me awhile because I got a little carried away. I hope I did your request justice 🙇‍♀️.

Masterlist

You enjoyed the mundane lifestyle that came with working at the library. There was a comfort that came with knowing that you worked in something of a community center. Being able to provide a service that for some was the highlight of their day. In this day and age having regulars at the library was a rarity, especially the adults. Kids would come after school for homework or for research purposes, but the adults were few and far between.

Technically it may have been weird that you had a favorite but you couldn’t help yourself. There was a woman named Wanda, she’d come once a week ask for a recommendation and sit there the whole day and read it.

She’d always make a comment or two on the book on her way out and it made you smile. It was good to know she appreciated your picks. Though there were other staff members she only really asked you.

When she missed one week, you found yourself discouraged. One week turned to two and so forth until it had been a month since you saw the woman.

“Y/n, it looks like your regular is back. She might need a little assistance,” one of your coworkers approaches you.

“What are you talking about?”

They give you a look that says ‘seriously’, “Ms. Recommendations, she’s in the non-fiction section looking a little worse for wear.”

You nod and make your way over to the section. There you find Wanda. Your coworker was not exaggerating. She looked so fragile as if she was just waiting for the tears to fall. She was staring at the books, but it was easy to tell that she wasn’t really reading anything.

“Looking for anything in particular,” you say softly, trying not to startle her.

She seems to snap out of her trance enough to try and answer you, “No, not today.”

It felt like she was speaking on autopilot. If it were another guest, you would’ve let her be, but this was Wanda. Perhaps it was a bit para-social but it felt like you knew her better than the average customer.

“I- I don’t mean to overstep, but are you alright?”

She lets out a tired sigh, “That obvious?”

You attempt to back track, “No… uh it’s just I haven’t seen you around in a while."

She looks away for a moment, “ Yeah, I um got a divorce. So I’ve been a hermit as of late.”

“Oh, congratulations.”

Wanda can’t help but laugh at your words, “Most people have been saying they’re sorry to hear, but congratulations? It’s kind of refreshing.”

You shrug, “Well I don’t think divorce is always a bad thing. It’s hard for sure, but it’s better than staying in a situation you don't deserve.”

“What if I was in the wrong?’ Her eyes are glued to the floor as she speaks.

“I may be overstepping again, but I doubt that's the case. You don't seem like the kind of person,” your tone doesn't make her argue, instead a look of relief crosses her face.

“I'm not,” she says taking a deep breath.

You smile at her, “Then it’s their loss.”

She smiles back at you, “I guess you’re right.”

Glad to have made her feel even a little bit better, you begin to leave the aisle she's in. You dint get far before there’s a gentle tug on your wrist. You turn back to stare into Wanda’s warm green eyes.

She’s nervous as she speaks, “I don’t know if I’m too old to be doing this, but fuck it. I could really use a friend right now and I was wondering if you’d be open to getting coffee or something, whenever you’re free.”

You stare at her for a few seconds before nodding, “I’m off in about 15 minutes, there’s a café a few blocks over that I think everyone should try at least once.”

Her excitement builds up in her features. She clears her throat to hide it, “I’ll wait for you by the YA novels?”

“Sounds perfect.”

From that day on Wanda wasn’t just a regular customer anymore, she was your genuine friend. She was also one of the sweetest people you had ever met in your life. She was unbelievably strong too.

The details of her divorce were quite messy. A touch of infidelity here and there, mixed with a custody agreement was a recipe for disaster.

You always offered to be there in any way you can’t for. She usually turns down your more serious offers for help, and sticks to fun small outings. You can tell that she’s somewhat embarrassed by her situation, but you don’t think there’s anything she should be embarrassed about.

“Y/n, I know I said I was free to go out today, but Tommy is sick and Billy isn’t doing that great either, can I give you a rain check?”

She called you and you could hear the tiredness and distress in her voice, “Let me come over and help you, Wands. Two sick kids is rough work, I know you could use a hand.”

She’s silent on the line, but the coughs and sinus filled conversation doesn’t stop.

Wanda sighs, “Okay, do you think you can bring me some medicine? I’ll text you some ingredients I need for soup too if that’s alright?”

“Whatever you need, I’ll see you in a bit,” you say simply.

You follow through on your word picking up various cough, cold, and fever medicines along with some cough drops. You nearly forget about the stuff for the soup, until Wanda texts you something she left off the ingredient list. After picking up everything you head to her house.

You’d been to her house before, but never when her kids were there. You had seen them with her a few times at the library, but back then you didn’t quite deduce that they were her children. It feels so obvious now, but Wanda was definitely a young mom in your opinion, or at least she looked like one.

You rang the doorbell and waited with the groceries in your hand. It took a moment but eventually the door swung open revealing Wanda. Though your hands were full, she’s the one who had bags under her eyes. She looked as though she would fall over any second.

“You’re a godsend Y/n,” she tries to take the bags from your hands but you don’t let her.

“And you’re sick too, here I figured this would happen,” you rummage through the bags and pull out a medicine that’s for adults.

“It’s drowsy.”

You nod, “I know, I figured you need the rest anyway, let me handle its.”

Wanda shakes her head, “Are you crazy? You think you can handle my two kids and me on your own?”

You smile at her, “You underestimate me, Maximoff. Let me show you what I can do.”

“We’ll see, but first come meet them properly.”

You sit the bags down in the kitchen, opting to take the medicine upstairs with you. She takes you to their room.

Tommy is propped up in his bed watching as Billy plays videogames from his spot on the floor.

“Tommy, Billy, this is my friend Y/n. She’s going to help us out today,” Wanda introduces you.

“The library lady,” Billy sounds congested as he speaks.

You nod your head enthusiastically, “ Yep, that’s me. I heard you boys were sick, so I brought some stuff to make you feel better.”

Tommy gags, “Ew medicine.”

You sympathize with him, “Ew is right, but it’s worth it I promise. In fact, I’ll sweeten the deal, you guys take your medicine, and I’ll make you the best soup of your life in return.”

“Better than mom’s?” Billy questions.

“ 1 million times better,” you egg him on.

Tommy is more hesitant, “I don’t know.”

You get closer to him, crouching so you can meet his level, “How about when you’re feeling better, we go out to the arcade and get some ice cream too.”

That seems to be enough for the boy, “That sounds awesome.”

While you’re chatting with them Wanda starts to prepare the medicine cups for the boys. They take the medicine with all the dramatics that children do.

“Ok, we’ll be back to check on you guys, shortly. Billy, get some socks baby. Tommy stay under the covers sweetheart."

The both of you exit the room and head back down the stairs. Wanda moves to start unloading the groceries, but you stop her.

“If you’re not going to fully rest, at least sit. I can make the soup,” you point to the barstools she has in her kitchen.

“Are you sure? I can help-"

You block her from opening the next bag. She looks into your gaze, which holds no feeling of malice or resentment. Instead she finds a warn and tender look behind your eyes.

“I’ve got it.”

She listens to your directions and takes a seat

She watches as you prep the ingredients, ever so often asking where she keeps certain things. Otherwise there is a fluid motion to your movements in the kitchen.

“You know you don't have to take them to the arcade just because they took the medicine, right?”

You pause slightly from chopping vegetables to look up at her, “I probably should’ve asked if it was okay with you first, but I don’t mind taking them. They seem like good kids, which isn’t a surprise at all considering they’re your kids.”

She beams at your words, “They’re a little more docile in this state, but they can be a handful at times. We haven’t really had a big outing like that since the divorce, I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”

“Then consider it done, as soon as they’re better let me know. We can all go out and have some fun.”

Wanda can’t help the feeling she gets hearing you talk so nonchalantly about going out with her kids. It’s something like a spark, that she hasn’t felt in a long time. She takes this time to really look at you, you’re stunning. Truth be told Wanda had always found you a little attractive, but she wrote it off as you just being conventionally good looking. However now, with you standing in her kitchen cooking for her and her kids. She’s starting to think it’s more than that.

“Do you like children, Y/n?”

“I have a soft spot for kids, it’s partially why I chose to work at the library. I had kind of a rough upbringing as a kid. It was just me and my mom, and money wasn’t all that great, but I remember her taking me to almost all the community events they hosted at the library. We spent a lot of time there. When I was old enough to go on my own, it was rare that I didn’t go. The library is such a haven for kids it’s one of my favorite things about it.”

Wanda felt herself melting under the sincerity of your words, “That’s really sweet.”

You start cooking down the vegetables before you answer, “Yeah, if I wasn’t so crazy about the library, I would’ve been a chef. I actually applied to a few culinary schools in high school, pretty ambitious but I had won a few competitions. I had offers and full ride scholarships to some of the best schools out there, but I chose to become a librarian instead.”

Wanda tilts her head to the side playfully, “So you weren’t just talking shit when you said you’re going to make a soup 1 million times better than mine.”

You laugh, “Technically I’m using the ingredients that you told me to get, so it’s more like our soup. I’m just tweaking a few measurements and cooking it a little different. It’s like a group project, if you will.”

Wanda laughs even harder, “You’re so full of shit.”

“Language, there are children present.”

Wanda rolls her eyes, “They’re upstairs."

“Children have super good hearing Wanda, trust me, I’m a librarian.”

She shakes her head with a small chuckle. She watches as the soup comes together a lovely aroma fills the kitchen, her mouth waters at just the smell.

“It smells delicious.”

You motion her over to the stove next to you. She scurries over, which makes you smile. She looks utterly adorable and ethereal at the same time. You began to notice it over the last few times you had hung out. Wanda was simultaneously the cutest and the most beautiful woman, you think you’d ever met in your life

“Taste,” you hold a spoon full of soup up for her.

She hesitates a little, but decides to just eat from the spoon while you hold it. Her eyes close as the flavors dance on her tongue. She lets out an involuntary moan, that has her blushing as soon as it leaves her mouth.

“Oh my god, that’s the best soup I’ve ever had in my life,” Wanda stares at you in awe.

“I hope the boys think so too.”

Wanda helps you fill the bowls for them, “They’re going to love it.”

True to her words the boys devour the soup going as far as to ask for seconds. Neither of you can deny them another bowl. Once they eat, you can see the food working in tandem with the medicine to tucker them out. Before they’re completely out of it you and Wanda get them ready for bed.

It feels more normal than either of you expected. By the time you’re done, both twins are now in bed. The tv plays something at a low volume, but you and Wanda are both aware that the kids will likely be asleep as soon as you leave the room.

When you leave you head back to the kitchen fixing 2 more bowls of soup for Wanda and yourself. You eat amongst each other with small chatter, but it’s comfortable. When you’re done, you almost have to fight Wanda to allow you to do the dishes.

She pouts, once again sitting at the barstool watching you clean.

“You haven’t let me help this whole time,” she whines.

“I’m here to help you, not the other way around,” you remind her.

Wanda places her hands on her hips, “But if you’re doing everything, what am I supposed to do?”

“Just sit there and look pretty,” you say without thinking.

Wanda feels her face heating up, losing track of how many times it has happened today alone, “Look pretty, huh?”

You can feel your ears heating with embarrassment, “oh I- well.”

“Oh my god are your ears turning red, that’s literally adorable. Are you flustered, Y/n?” Wanda teases.

You glare at her with faux-anger, “My ears? Your cheeks are just as red.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about?”

You wash your hands, quickly drying them before approaching her. You keep walking until there is virtually no space between the two of you. You look down at her, you don’t stop your eyes from dropping to her lips.

“Oh really?”

She looks up at you, her cheeks indeed, red like you had mentioned.

“And if they were?”

“Maybe I’d say that it’s adorable,” you use her words against her. “Or maybe…”

“Maybe what?” Her eyes dart to your lips.

You look back into her eyes, “Maybe, I’d kiss you.”

“I’d like that.”

That was all you needed to hear. She met you halfway and, in an instant, you were kissing. Your hand rested on the small of her back, while her hands locked around your neck. It was cliché but it was cute. The kiss itself was respectable, but still filled with a feeling of longing.

Wanda’s hands drop from your neck to lightly push you back, “I’m divorced with two kids Y/n-"

You stop her before she can even rant, “I know, Wanda. I’ve been here, maybe not the whole time, but most of it. I don’t care that you’re divorced and I’d love to get to know your kids. I’d love to get to know you better.”

“I feel like you already know me, Y/n. We’ve been friends for over a year now. We’ve spent so much time together, I’m just surprised you’re not tired of me yet.”

You take her hands in yours, “I could never get tired of you. I’m quite literally asking for more. Let me take you out some time.”

“Are you sure?”

It’s bold, but you place a quick kiss on her lips, “Positive."

From there things just seem to fall into place. You kept your promise to the boys, taking them out when they recovered from their sickness. Wanda was impressed by how well you mingled with them considering her ex always seemed to struggle to relate. However you, had no problem tapping into that childlike like amazement that the kids felt.

Soon after that outing, you and Wanda went on your first real date. You took her out to a nice restaurant. It was an upscale establishment, the prices weren’t even on the menu. Wanda tried to fret about how she didn’t know if she deserved this kind of treatment, but you always reassured her.

You believe she deserved the best and as long as you could give it to her you would.

It only took 4 dates before you asked her to be you girlfriends, not being the best at waiting. Luckily for you she agreed and truth be told if you would’ve asked her on the first date she probably would’ve said yes then.

At this point you’ve been dating for a little over a year. The twins are with their father for the weekend, and Wanda is staying over at your apartment.

The two of you are on the couch. She’s resting in your arms as you watch tv, “Wanda.”

She looks up, “Yes, detka.”

“How attached are you to your house?”

Her eyebrows furrow, “Why?”

You hold her gaze, “Is it crazy if I say that I want us to live together?”

Wanda plays with your fingers, “No, I don't think so.”

You kiss her forehead, “It’s just a thought.”

“You want to buy a house?”

You nod curtly, “We don't have to leave the area, I know the boys have school and I wouldn't want to pull them away or make them start fresh or anything, but I’ve been looking at some homes in the area. Something a little bigger, Billy and Tommy could both have their own room and a huge backyard. Maybe a dog, in the future.”

Wanda cups your face gently, pulling you down to kiss her, “I would love to buy a home with you Y/n.”

“Really?”

Wanda kisses you again, “Really.”

“I love you,” your eyes softening as the words fall from your lips.

“I love you too.”

Your lips are connected again, this time neither of you break the kiss. Instead Wanda shifts in your lap to straddle your waist. Her hands playing with the tiny hairs on the back of your neck. Your hands start at her thigh but end up sliding up to her hips, and soon your fingers are in contact with the cool skin of her stomach.

You aren’t able to stop yourself from kissing down her jaw. She moves her hair and cranes her neck to give you more access. Your teeth sink into her neck only for your tongue to soothe the skin. You suck the spot tenderly, causing little whines to emanate from Wanda.

“Y/n,” your name is breathless on her lips.

She doesn't have to say anything else for you to stand up with her still in your arms. You carry her to the bedroom. Once you’re in there and her feet are on the floor, you pull her shirt off. Yours follows after.

Wanda feels herself getting wet under your gaze. The way you take in her bare chest, eyes blown with want. While you stare she gets rid of the rest of her clothes. You eagerly do the same.

You pull her flush against your body. Skin heating upon contact.

“You’re perfect,” your thumb toys with one of her nipples.

Your head dips to take it into your mouth. You suck lightly, ever so often slowly fanning your tongue over the nipple. You do the same to the other nipple, while your hand cups her warmth. You moan at her wetness.

“ I need you,” she whispers.

You kiss her tenderly, backing her onto the bed. You’re gentle as you ease two fingers into her. She arches her back slightly, and her kiss becomes sloppier.

You’re in no rush as you slowly build pace. Her finger nails dig into your back.

“More please,” she buries her head in your neck.

You begin pumping at a faster pace, using your thumb to stimulate her clit. Her ragged breaths in your ear only turn you on even more.

You jolt as you feel her hand in-between your legs. Her fingers play through your folds and you hear her gasp in your ear.

“All for me baby?”

You nod, “All for you, Wands. Can I taste you, baby?”

“Fuck,” Wanda murmurs.

She pulls her fingers from you, signaling for you to suck them. You take them in your mouth, swirling you tongue around the digits, high off of your own taste.

Once her fingers exit your mouth, you maneuver down her body. You momentarily take your fingers out of her. She doesn’t have time to complain before you’re sucking on her clit.

“Holy shit,” she entangles her hands through your hair.

You keep eye contact with her as you lick, suck, and slurp her pussy. She throws her head back, taking her lip between her teeth. You can see sweat illuminating her body.

Soon you add your fingers back and you can feel her approaching her edge.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she keeps repeating the mantra as she reach her peak.

You don’t stop when she cums on your tongue, only slowing your motions, to help her come back down.

“You did so good for me baby,” you say kissing up to her lips.

She shifts so her thigh is against your dripping cunt, “Your turn, my love. Use me.”

You see her flex her thigh, which causes you to moan, “Fuck, Wanda.”

Your hands rest on her shoulder as you begin to grind down on her. Her hands are on you, but the movements are all yours. Wanda watches with blown eyes as you fuck yourself on her thigh. Her hands climb up your sides to massage your breasts. You bite your lip as her fingers play with your nipples.

Wanda sits up slightly, just enough to get her mouth on your body. She sucks on near the top of your breasts, trailing hickeys across.

“I love it when you make a mess on my thigh, cum for me, moya lyubov.”

You cum all over her thigh. Her arms wrap around your midsection holding you steady as you shake. Her head rests against your chest, listening to your wild heart beat return to normal. She places a delicate kiss on your shoulder.

“I love you.”

You kiss the top of her head, “I love you too.”

Once you’re both cleaned up, you settle in bed for the night. You’re start out as the big spoon but soon Wanda turns to face you.

“I was so scared before you came into my life,« she admits.

“Wanda-"

She shakes her head, “Let me finish. I was so lost, I didn't know what to do, if there was anything I could do to feel like myself again. There were so many days I went through thinking I was unlovable. Then you show up, and all of those feelings and thoughts just leave. I’ve never felt so cared for. You make me remember all of the things I love about myself. You make love seem so easy, it feels obvious when you’re with me. I’ve never experienced a love like you’ve given me and I need you to know I love you too. I’ve never felt what I feel for you with anyone else.”

Wanda starts out loud and sure, but by the end her voice is quiet. She doesn’t break eye contact, fighting against her insecurities.

There are no more words shared between the two of you. Wanda kisses you with everything she is feeling and you return her fervor. She pecks you again before burying her head in your chest. You hold her tightly in your arms wondering how you ended up being so lucky.

Her words make emotion swell inside of you. Your voice cracks when you speak, “You are the love of my life. I was doing alright before, but you and the boys are truly everything I’ve been missing in my life. Getting to be with you, a part of your family, it means everything to me Wanda. Thank you, for letting me love you.”

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

64 / 4.1k / soap soulmate au, final part

...

"You doing okay?"

Hearing Graves’ voice knocks what little breath you had out of your lungs. It's been months, but that's him. Your old boss. You never thought you'd hear his voice again.

"I've been better," you say finally. "Been awhile."

"Yeah, it has," he says. "Wish you'd've called me to catch up sometime, rather than under the circumstances. You don't sound too banged up. They treat you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"I didn't ask how you feel. I asked if they roughed you up."

You feel your own temper shorten in response. "I need you to call KorTac off."

There's a pause. You can imagine his frowning face, the way he's thinking that one over. "I'll take that under advisement," he finally says, but you can tell he's not going to do what you ask of him. "Puttin' me in a predicament here, kid. You're giving those boys a hard time, and here I thought I was helping you out. Paying your bail, so to speak."

"It’s more complicated than that."

"Always is. Let’s just have you dropped off back on base with us. You can clean yourself up and we’ll talk."

He waits for your crisp yes, sir, but it never comes.

He speaks again. "You got somewhere else to be?"

"I can't go back."

"Can't or won't? You got something you ain't tellin me, soldier?"

"I said I can't go back. And I'm not your soldier anymore. You're not my boss. I don't work for you."

"You know Shadows don't leave one of our own behind. Not to rot in some CIA prison cell. So lose the attitude," he says, voice like iron. "This ain't a good time to play games, kid. You're comin' back with me because I spent a pretty penny on you. You owe me. You have your personal business, fine. Come on back to base and let's talk this out face to face before you go makin' any hasty decisions."

You're so frustrated it's hard to form words. You should be grateful. You know that. Graves doesn’t pretend to care about his men. He cares enough to lead from the front. But you met your soulmate, and you can’t act like it didn't change you. You need to make things right. You also can’t exactly tell Graves you kind of sold him out.

"Hey. Focus up." He doesn't raise his voice to a command. Still, the order is in his voice, and you have been long trained to follow your commander's orders. Then he sighs. "What happened to you, kid?"

"You betrayed the 141. You killed innocent people in Las Almas, looking for them."

You can almost hear his jaw working behind his clenched teeth, the muscles in his face tight. He does not allow this kind of disrespect. "You think I like what I had to do? General Shepherd's orders were clear. We followed them. 141 did not." He huffs out a sigh. "I didn't enjoy it. But that's the job. You of all people know that."

You swallow. "You told us they were our brothers. You killed innocent people, Commander. Johnny said he saw you do it--"

"Johnny?" Grave's voice rises. "You on a first name basis with Soap now?"

"We all know what happened in Las Almas," you retort. Your skin goes hot at the way he says Johnny's name. "I won't work for Shepherd anymore after that. I won't fucking do it."

"Don't pull that with me." The warning is written in his voice. This isn't like you. To the Shadows, you’re calm. Cold. You don't lose your temper. You don't talk back. Especially not to Graves. "You think you can walk away at the drop of a hat just because you don't agree with an order? It doesn't work like that. You follow an order, even if you don't like it, even if it pisses you off. You don't get to decide what you think is right or wrong to carry out. When I give you an order, you follow it. That's your job. Your loyalty is with me. Not with the 141."

"I did my job."

"Then act like it," he snaps. "Stop acting like I'm some evil bastard out here. I made the only choice I could. Task Force 141 was not supposed to be there. They knew my orders, and what did they do? They came after my men, went behind my back, screwed us over. We did what we had to. You wanna be pissed at someone? Be pissed at them."

You glare down at the ice, but say nothing.

"You know I'm right." He knows you. He's getting to you. "And you know what else I find interesting? You don't seem a bit surprised to hear me alive." His voice is too casual and sharp as a knife. "Didn't you get the memo? Did no one forward you my obituary, soldier?"

You stiffen. You're not supposed to know he's alive.

"You're an awful liar. Always have been." He pauses for a long moment. "It ain't easy, surviving against the 141 if they want you dead. You know how I managed it, soldier?"

Yes. "No,” you retort. “And stop calling me that. I'm not your soldier. I don't work for you anymore."

"The hell you aren't. Maybe you're not on the payroll anymore, and maybe you're no longer under my command, but once a Shadow, always a Shadow. That makes you my responsibility. And my goddamn headache." Something shuffles on the other end of the line. "You know exactly what I'm willing to do to keep one of my Shadows safe. But if you're so keen on turning yourself in, fine. I'll have you in front of Shepherd's desk first thing tomorrow. Is that what you want? You know Soap and Ghost put Shadows in the ground that night in Las Almas."

"Shadows tried to put Johnny and Ghost in the ground first."

"This isn't about who shot first. This is about you." His voice is dangerously low, but he keeps his temper in check. Then he huffs a laugh. "You keep callin’ him Johnny. Makes my brain itch." Johnny MacTavish. John MacTavish. Yeah, that's it. "I'll be damned," he mutters.

You touch your exposed soulmark compulsively as if to hide it. Most soldiers hide theirs, but yours has always been tough to cover up. He's seen it more than a few times.

"Got you right out from under my fuckin' nose."

Your stomach tightens. You feel too exposed, like suddenly he’s putting the story together--how 141 got in.

"Shoulda known. Shoulda known. You know the military has a registry for this shit. There are rules. What's wrong with you?"

"I made a mistake," you mutter.

That might be the funniest thing he ever heard. And he's heard some good jokes. "You don't make mistakes, kiddo. You never have. That's not how I trained you." He's right, and you know it. "But hey. Guess it's true what they say about it."

"What?"

"Soulbonds. Make you take your best-laid plans and raze ‘em. Full scorched earth.”

“This isn’t about that. I’m making this decision on my own.”

“You think?” He takes a puff on his cigarette. “I don’t. I don't blame you, either. You sure as hell fought it as best you could. Didn't give in to save your own life. If that's not the soulbond making your decision for you, soldier, I don't know what is."

You look up at the sky. For all the time you spent working with Graves, that past version of you might as well be dead. Maybe that’s the grave you’ve been digging. "I can't work for Shepherd anymore. I won't do it."

"You're a good soldier, 86. You were loyal. I still think you're loyal, even if I'm not who you're loyal to," he finally says. His voice is still calm. It doesn't make you feel any better. "You know if you choose to walk away from this, the next time we meet might well be as enemies."

"Then I guess we won't meet again, sir."

He says nothing. Then he lets out a long huff. You really are going to do him dirty. You can hear his scowl. "That's a damn shame, kid. But you have more of a spine than I gave you credit for," he says. There's a tone of reluctant respect to it. That's as close as you're going to get to a compliment from him now. "You're a loose end, then. You'd best stay well out of the way. Mine and Shepherd's. I hope you're not making the wrong choice, 86," he says quietly. "I really hope you're not."

"It’s out of your hands now. And pay KorTac," you add. "Pay my squad. They did their job."

That makes him scoff. "Now why would I do that? You might be a traitor, but you're still my investment. You were worth more on my payroll than theirs, and that’s a fact I intend to maintain."

"You owe me," you remind him.

"Don't push your luck," he warns. "You're an asset. You don’t get the privileges of rank anymore. But, well..." He sighs. You imagine him with his heels kicked back on his desk, cigarette in hand. "I’ll tell you what. I’m in a charitable mood. I'll pay them off. I'm a man of my word when the time comes to pay off my debts. Hell, I’ll even throw in a tip for a job well done." Despite the annoyance in his voice, you don't doubt he'll do just that. "But that doesn’t mean I trust you anymore. I trusted you once, and you went rogue. I let you go now, that means I expect you to keep my secrets. Don't you go singing if Shepherd puts you in a chair. You got that?"

You glance up out of the corner of your eye at Soap, whose hands are still clenched in tight fists at his sides. "If Shepherd puts me in a chair, he's the one who's gonna sing. Not me."

Graves chuckles. "You're a good soldier, 86, but you can't take on an old war dog like Shepherd. Leave that to someone more qualified."

"Like who? You?"

"As I said, you best steer clear. I don't want to hear your name again." His voice hardens, and you hear your old commander again. "Good luck, kid. You'll need it. And give Soap hell."

You toss the phone back to Horangi. He listens to what Graves has to say. Then, eyes meeting yours for a moment, he wordlessly moves out away from the river, leaving you weary with relief. It's over. Finally.

Soap watches him disappear into the trees. Then, he looks back at you, alone and shivering on the ice. You look half-dead, bleeding, and your lips are near blue. He wants to make his way to you, but the ice is scarcely holding you. It won't hold him, too.

"Oi," Soap calls. His voice is rough with anxiety. "Get over here. You're gonnae freeze to death even if you don't fall through."

You blink up at him. Standing in the rising sun the way he is now, he looks like someone’s guardian angel. Yours? You'd like very much to be wrapped in his wings.

You make your way over to the bank, but the rocky ledge up is slippery and icy. Behind you, between the ice where you're standing and the bank, there's a yawning gap. To your left, there's a bridge, but snow has already melted off the surface of the ice, and it looks thin. "There's no way up," you call. "But downriver..."

"No’ a chance in hell I’m going to let you try to cross that," Soap says as he approaches the edge. "You'll be swept away and drown, hen. You're not in any condition to swim, and even if you were, that river's too bloody fast to risk it."

"Then what do you suggest?"

His eyes sweep over the river once more. It's wide; too wide to attempt a jump across. The ice has fallen in, leaving it almost impossible to make it to the bank. It isn't safe. The longer you stand there, the more the ice cracks under you. He admires your guts for putting yourself on the line like that to get back to him, but damn you. His blood pressure has never been higher.

Soap throws off his pack and slings his gear onto the bank. "I'll pull you up."

"But..."

"But nothing." With the adrenaline still pumping through his system, Soap thinks nothing of the risk of the bank collapsing under you both with his added weight. The only thing on his mind is getting you back in one piece. "We both know damn well, if I was the one on the ice now, you'd already be down there trying to help me, so for once, just shut up and let me help you."

Can't argue with that.

He pulls out an ice hook--mountaineering equipment; he was prepared to climb this mission, luckily--and offers it to you.

You toss the grenade as far as you can in the opposite direction. Then you raise your hands to grasp the rope. He's holding the sharp end and giving you the handle. You try to keep hold, but as he lifts, your bloodied hands slip just as the grenade explodes nearby, too close, spiderwebbing the ice with a final crack.

You land hard, break through, and disappear under the freezing water.

Soap has never known panic faster than when he sees you go under.

He dives after you. He has to get you back to the surface before whatever air you had in your lungs gives out. Your survival is his survival.

He finds you in the rushing black abyss when your fingers hook around his sleeve. Wrapping his hands around your arms, Soap anchors you to his chest.

You come to in his arms. You're colder than you ever have been in your life. Your fingertips tingle in pain and numbness. He's carrying you ashore somehow--far downriver, thinner ice--and he ducks into an old cabin with you in his arms.

Soap kicks the door shut behind him and moves into the cabin to set you on the floor, propping your back against the wall. His hands work fast as he pulls out his knife to cut away your soaked thermal clothes and gear. You dip in and out of consciousness until he wads up a fistful of gauze and packs it into your side wound. The sudden pain chokes you. Then a wave of nausea washes over you. You’d like nothing more than to tell him where precisely he can shove that gauze, but you’re too lightheaded.

"You with me, hen?" His gruff voice wavers. "I need you to stay awake."

He gathers you up in his arms and lifts you into his lap. It's a tight fit, wedged underneath the frosty window and between a table and an upturned stool. You register the warmth of his skin on yours and dimly realize he's stripped both of you almost bare, huddling around you to prevent hypothermia.

You soak up Soap’s body heat instantly. He's a furnace, and he needs to be, given the state you're in. He tucks you as close as he can. You're both shivering, but he doesn't care. He can be cold as long as you're warm. His broad body shields you from the drafts leaking into the decrepit cabin.

"No, no, eyes open." He tilts your face up as your eyes flutter. "Don't go passin' out on me."

You gaze up at him in your stupor. Maybe it's the blood loss, but even through your own pain and frustration, he's the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen.

"You have really odd eyes," you mutter. "Like blueberry soft serve."

Oh, you're definitely delirious. Maybe concussed.

But he can't deny the look you're giving him right now makes his stomach flip. The sight of you in his lap, your frost-scorched fingers wrapped idly around his ID tag and staring up at him like he's just pulled the moon out of the sky for you... it's the first time he’s seen you with your guard down.

He swallows and keeps you pressed against his skin. There’s a lot of blood. He can’t tell what’s yours and what isn’t. "You're in no shape to flatter me."

You hum, your fingers dabbing idly at a smear of blood on his chest.

He doesn't move to stop you. Instead, his eyes flick down to your hand. Your fingers leave a trail of sparks over everywhere you touch.

With a soft sigh, Soap catches your wrist. "Quit it, hen."

"Quit what?"

"Teasin'. Makin' me wish you'd put those hands to other uses," he says, voice quiet and rough. It's just you and him in the little cabin. The world is far away. His thumb rubs against the inside of your wrist, trying to bring some warmth back into your skin. "You're in no shape to be feelin' me up, either."

Your head lolls against his shoulder. "Maybe it's the perfect time. Maybe we won't get another time."

Hearing you say that twists his insides into knots. He leans down to rest his forehead against yours. "Maybe you just need to shut up and let me take care of you. Don't talk like that." His voice leaves no room for argument. He tightens his grip on you, pressing you closer as if he can somehow press that into your skin by sheer will alone. "There'll be plenty of times for you to get your hands on me."

"Mm." You tuck into him tighter. You'd be mortified with yourself if you weren't half-dead from blood loss. "Sorry."

He exhales into your hair, pressing chaste kisses there.

You're practically in his lap, the two of you tangled into each other from head to foot in the space under the window. He's surrounded by the smell of you. It's a soothing presence in all that surrounds him.

He shouldn't want to touch you, shouldn't want to take advantage of your weakness--but the thought of having you so open and wanting, of you willingly in his arms, makes something in him ache. Makes the selfish parts of him scream.

"You're a pain in my arse," he says. He focuses on taking inventory of your wounds, brushing over your arms with his touch to assess the damage. "You gonnae bleed out on me?"

You shiver a little as he drags you closer by your bare thigh. "Wouldn't be the worst way to go."

"Oi," he snaps in warning. He slides his hand up your side, checking for bleeding. It’s just as much a caress over your bare skin. He has to ignore how his skin tingles every time the curve of your body slides against his in that tantalizing way. Something in his lower belly tightens. "You don't get to tap out after makin' me go through all this trouble for you. You're livin' through tonight or else."

"Or else what?"

"Or else." He moves his hand up to the base of your throat, his large, calloused fingers wrapping around your neck and tilting your chin up to look at him. He fixes his blue eyes on yours to take in the dazed expression on your face. "I'll drag your arse out of hell and tan it until you can't sit right."

You're too weary to laugh, but you rest your scuffed cheek on his thumb, and it pushes your lips into a smirk. "All for me?"

"Aye. Hell of a lot more trouble than your pretty face should be worth."

You pull free and rest your head on his shoulder again. "Where do you live?"

"Glasgow," he says. "Not sure I should be tellin' you that."

You trace his chest around the chain of his ID tag. So many muscles. "Probably not."

"And what about you? Do I get to know?"

"No. Maybe. If we get out of here."

"Yeah? Well, you're not goin' anywhere with this wound. Bleedin' out, nearly froze to death, and still mouthin' off. No idea how to shut up and be good." He looks down at the injury, assessing how bad it really is in the dim light of the cabin. "You lost a lot of blood. I bet you feel tired." He brushes your hair off your face. "Stay awake a bit longer. The boys'll be here soon."

"I shouldn't," you mutter.

Soap doesn't miss the slurring of your words. He knew the blood loss would affect you, but he was hoping for more time before he had to really worry. "Shouldn't stay? Too late to get away from me now," he says, trying to keep his tone casual. Your skin is too cold for comfort. The gauze in your wound soaking through with blood can't mean anything good. "I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you. Sure as hell not letting you out of my sight. You've got a lot to repay me for."

You try to keep your eyes open. Every blink is more sluggish than the last. "Like what?"

"Runnin' away and makin' me chase after you, for one. Puttin' yourself in the line of fire for me, second. Takin' a swim in a frozen river. Scared me to death." He presses his lips to the crown of your head, a gentle, chaste touch at odds with the possessive, dominating instinct he can feel creeping into his thoughts. You're vulnerable right now, something he should never want, but part of him wonders if he’d ever have caught up with you without this. "Aye, you owe me. First thing we do once you're patched up? We have a long talk. We have a whole hell of a lot we need to say to one another. And you'll answer every question I ask you."

"I dunno if you'll like the stuff I say," you mutter.

"Hardly matters. You’re plenty keen on spittin’ fire at me as it is. No reason you can’t keep tellin’ me everything I don’t want tae hear."

Another shiver wracks your body.

Soap rubs your arms. "You gotta give your word you stay awake for me, aye? Stay here."

His radio beeps nearby. You huff. "Fine."

"Fine." He leans over to grab his radio and tries to keep an arm around your shoulders to keep you warm as he does. He keeps you cradled against his chest as he responds to Price.

"Soap here."

You don't hear the conversation. Instead, you listen to Soap's voice vibrate through his chest. He speaks to Price in hushed tones, talking about your condition and the team's ETA.

Price has a laundry list of questions, but Soap manages to wrangle them into holding off until they have everyone back on base. No sense exhausting you on a mission that's already been a shitshow. Finally, they're done. Soap lets the radio go to focus entirely on you again. "Still with me?"

"How long do we have?"

"Shouldn't be too much longer," he says. He checks your side again. The coldness of the air has soaked into the wet gauze. You shiver again. It makes something in him ache. "ETA's about ten minutes out."

You pull his lips down to yours and kiss him.

He's surprised, but he doesn't pull back--not from you. He lets you kiss him. Your taste seeps into his brain and turns all rational thought to white noise. One hand cups your jaw with a surprising gentleness, and the other slides behind your waist to keep you against his body. He's gentle--you need to be handled with care right now.

He pulls back before he loses himself in the desire to deepen the kiss. His eyes search your face, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath hot against your lips.

"You're lucky you're injured," he murmurs. "Or you'd be in a very different kind of trouble right now."

You shiver, but not with the cold. Just that one kiss has you feeling much warmer. You touch your name where it's written on his arm. Then you curl your fingers around the back of his neck and pull yourself closer. "Hold onto that thought for later," you murmur. "Give me something to wait for."

Then you kiss him again.

...

← previous part / [part 13] / epilogue →

part 1 / more Soap / masterlist

thank you <3

[loveesiren]

Help Me (Pt. 1)

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!reader

Synopsis: When Rafe finds out Y/n's in trouble, he's determined to keep her safe.

Warnings: Language, drug use, fentanyl, mentions of sex trafficking, abuse, 18+

Word Count: 4.1k+

"I can stop whenever I want, Y/N, I'm just fucking stressed out, alright?"

You watch as Rafe leans down and takes another line before leaning back against his car seat and pressing his hands to his head.

Rafe was really the only friend you had made on the island so far. Besides JJ's friends of course. After your mom died you were forced to move back with your dad and JJ. You were ecstatic to see your little brother, but Luke was a different story. Nothing had changed. He was still an abusive, alcoholic, piece of shit, always taking his anger out on JJ.

That was not something you had shared with Rafe. In fact, he didn't even know you were a Pogue, much less related to JJ.

You had a job at the club. One night after your shift you wandered down to the beach to sit by the water. Thats where you found Rafe Cameron passed out drunk in the sand. You helped him home and gave him your number. Ever since then, the two of you met up practically every night. He'd pick you up after work and the two of you would go to the beach and talk. You loved spending time with him. He made you laugh and smile and forget the hell that awaited you at home. But you knew he was king of the Kooks and hated the Pogues. You knew you couldn't hide that fact forever but you really didn't want to lose him over something so stupid.

"I don't like seeing you kill yourself, Rafe." You told him softly, choking back tears. Your mother had just died from a drug overdose not even 2 months ago.

"Then don't watch." He told you dryly as he set up another line on the center console.

You scoffed. He's never talked to you like that before. "You know my mom died because of this shit?" You yelled at him. "And cuz of that I have to move to this shit island and deal with my dad beating on my brother and I all day?"

He looked up at you, concern in his eyes now. "I-I didn't know you had a brother. You've never even told me about your family."

You sighed, clenching your jaw. "Yeah," You said before pulling back your hoodie to reveal the bruises forming around your neck.

"Y/N..." He said as he reached out, placing his fingers gently on your collar bone. You flinched at his touch.

"And JJ gets it a lot worse." You stated as you grabbed your things. Rafe was silent, taking in the new information. You were JJ's sister?

You hopped out of his truck, leaving him with the secrets you'd just revealed to him, knowing good and well this was probably the end of you and Rafe Cameron.

"I'm a Pogue," You said calmly, shrugging your shoulders with a half smile before slamming the door and walking off towards the Cut.

——————–

Rafe noticed you immediately as he entered Midsummers. You were working the bar tonight but because of the event, you were a lot more dressed up than usual. A tight black dress hugged your curves. Your wavy hair pulled back in a half pony. He noticed the diamonds draped around your neck. You looked nothing like a Pogue. He could also see the slight discoloration of the bruises you had tried to cover with make up. He wouldn't have noticed them if he hadn't seen them for himself the other night.

His eyes lingered on you for a moment as he watched how elegantly you moved and interacted with others. How the hell was she a Maybank? He thought to himself.

You met Rafe's eyes for a moment. He didn't seem fucked up. He seemed concerned. You bit your lip for a moment before turning away, not offering him a smile or anything. You had avoided talking to him for a few days. As much as you missed him, you couldn't risk getting close to someone who used drugs to cope. Weed never bothered you. You'd even have a beer once in a while. But after everything you and JJ witnessed growing up, you knew how badly the outcome could be.

Rafe was standing around with Kelce and Topper, sipping on a cocktail when he noticed JJ making his way through the crowd. "Shit," He whispered under his breath as he noticed the bruise surrounding JJ's left eye.

"Well, well, well," Kelce said, stepping out in front of JJ, catching him by surprise. "I'd love if you could get me a mai tai, my friend."

"Yeah, see I'm kind of on the clock right now but if you guys just wanna wait by the bar-" JJ said before taking off in the crowd.

You darted your eyes towards the locker rooms as you saw your brother running through the sea of people, Rafe, Kelce, and the rest of their posse chasing him. "What the fuck," You said to yourself. JJ was not supposed to be here.

"Hey, Jesse!" You leaned over to your coworker. "Can you run the bar for a minute? I gotta use the bathroom."

"Sure thing," He responds and you made your way towards the locker rooms.

You had just reached the door when JJ was being dragged out by security. "What the hell is going on here?!" You ask.

"Tell your sister she's pretty hot for a Pogue!" You hear Rafe's voice call out after JJ.

JJ quickly slips away from the security guard and rushes towards him. "JJ!" You said as you and the security guard pull him back.

Rafe's eyes go wide as they meet yours. He wasn't expecting to see you, immediately regretting what he just said.

"What the fuck, Rafe?!" You said, storming towards him. You slapped him across the face as hard as you could. But before you knew it, Kelce had pushed you to the ground.

As a second security guard began to pull you away from the scene you saw Rafe slam Kelce up against a wall and scream at him, although you couldn't make out what he was saying as you were dragged away.

You and JJ were thrown out in front of the entire party. JJ helping you to your feet as you fell in the grass.

"Don't you EVER FUCKING TOUCH HER AGAIN!" Rafe screamed in Kelce's face, pinning him against the wall by his neck.

"What the fuck dude?! She's just some fucking Pogue!" Kelce responded.

"Never fucking again. Do you understand me?" Rafe said, eyes locked on Kelce. Kelce nodded in agreement.

Rafe took a deep breath before pushing off of Kelce and heading outside.

He watched as you stumbled away with your brother.

"Fuck, JJ!" You said as you walked along the beach. John B, Kiara, and Pope trailing behind you. "What the fuck was that?! I just lost my goddamn job!"

"I did nothing!" He yelled back at you. "It's those fucking Kooks!"

"Why the hell were you even there in the first place?!"

JJ was silent.

"Is this about your little treasure hunt again?" You asked, aiming your question at the group. They all stayed silent. "Great. That's just great. Leave me the hell out of it!" You said as you stormed off, making your way home.

You were almost to your house when your phone buzzed. A text from Rafe.

Y/N, I'm sorry. Can we please talk?

You rolled your eyes and shut off your phone.

You took a deep breath before you headed inside. Your dad was still up. Fuck. He was wasted as usual.

"Hey Princess," He mumbled. Your stomach turned at his words. You always hated when he called you that.

"I'm going to bed," You said dryly as you headed toward your room. Luke grabbed your arm and spun you back towards him.

"Now that's no way to greet your daddy, is it?"

His breath smelled like whiskey and cigarettes. The scent made you gag. "Get off me!" You yell, shoving him backwards.

He grabbed you by your neck and threw you against the wall. "You don't fuckin' talk to me like that you little bitch." He said through gritted teeth. "You're a slut just like your momma!"

You spat in his face and he punched you in the side of the head. He continued to hit you several more times until you were a bloody heap on the floor, barely conscious.

You could feel yourself being dragged across the floor and placed roughly on the couch.

"Ya know," Luke started. You were barely able to register his words. "I bet I could make a real pretty penny off of you."

Your eyes fluttered slightly as you tried to catch your breath. You saw him stick his hunting knife into a small plastic bag. He came over and grabbed your chin, forcing you to open your mouth.

"Here ya go, Princess." He said as he forced your mouth open and pressed the tip of his knife to you tongue. "I gotta go make some calls. You just wait riiiight here." He said as you quickly felt your head start to get heavy.

"Dad, please..." You begged before the familiar feeling of fentanyl took over your body.

______________

"What the fuck did you do?!" JJ yelled at his dad as he saw your motionless body on the couch.

"Ya know yer sister has a real mouth on her," Luke spat.

JJ had his fingers pressed to your neck, barely able to find your pulse.

"Did you fucking drug her?!"

"It's none of your concern boy! Now get the hell out of here I have someone pickin' 'er up in 20 minutes." Luke said as he walked to the kitchen to make another drink.

JJ's eyes widened. "What do you mean picking her up?"

Luke was silent.

"Dad...did-did you fucking sell her?" JJ muttered.

JJ couldn't contain his rage anymore as he picked a beer bottle up off the table and threw it at the back of his dads head.

"Fuck!" Luke said as glass shattered against his skin. He didn't even have time to turn around before JJ had already pushed him to the floor, landing punches to the side of his head over and over again. Blood coated JJ's face and the walls as he took out all his pent up rage on his father.

The way he'd abused you guys your whole lives. Beating you, drugging you, and now going as far as to sell his own daughter to make a quick buck. He couldn't take it anymore.

Luke was barely clinging to consciousness when JJ finally let go of him.

He stood over his father as he tried to slow his breathing and think of his next move. "Fuck," He whispered to himself as he ran his shaking hand through his blonde locks. "Fuck, okay.."

He quickly pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

JB: Hello?

JJ: John B! I-I need your help man!

JB: What's going on?

JJ: I'll explain later just please come pick us up.

JB: Us?

JJ: Me and Y/N, man, PLEASE!

JB: I'm on my way!

JJ tried his best not to hyperventilate as he made his way over to you. "Come on, Y/N, please wake up!" He begged, shaking you lightly. He could see all the bruising and blood that coated your body and he didn't want to risk hurting you further.

He got up and paced around the room as he waited for John B. He spotted the clear baggie on the table and picked it up. He flicked it as he examined the small amount of white powder. He knew it wasn't coke. "Fuck!" He yelled, unsure of how much you had consumed. This wasn't the first time your dad had drugged you. He'd done it when you were kids to get you to sleep. JJ prayed he didn't overdo it as tears fell from his eyes.

His head snapped up as he heard a car pulling up out front. He inched the curtain of the doors window to the side, expecting to see John B. It wasn't.

A black Lincoln parked in front of the house and shut off the lights. "Shiiiit!" JJ whispered in a panic. He ran over to your and gently scooped your small frame into his arms, cradling your head against his chest. "I got you, sis." He said as he quietly made his way towards the back door.

He made his way through the trees as he heard two men talking as they approached the house. He moved quietly toward the road when he spotted the Twinkie. He ran out in front of it, John B swerving to avoid hitting them before coming to a quick stop.

Kiara slid the door open to let him in. "Holy shit, what happened?!" She asked, terror in her voice as she looked over the wounds coating your unconscious body.

"My dad," JJ choked out. "He-he was gonna sell her." He was sobbing now as he laid your body down gently, resting your head on a pillow.

"What?" Kiara and John B said in unison.

"He drugged her and beat her and these two guys showed up and I grabbed her and ran. I-I don't even know what to do. The things they were going to do to her..." He trailed off, unable to bare the thought. He pulled his knees to his chest and sobbed more.

"We need to get her to a hospital," Kiara said softly as she rubbed JJ's back.

"No! No hospitals. I'll call my cousin." JJ said as he took out his phone. "Just go back to the Chateau."

______________

JJ chewed on his finger as he paced around the room.

Ricky checked over you one more time. "She's alive." He finally said. "And she'll be okay."

JJ sighed in relief, as did John B, Kiara, and Pope.

"She has a concussion. I was able to stitch up these two cuts," He said as motioned to the one on the side of your head and on your collar bone. "She's going to be out for a while but he didn't give her a lethal dose."

"Thank you, Ricky." JJ said. "Seriously."

Ricky offered him a smile. "I always liked her more than you," He chuckled as he stood up and patted JJ on the shoulder. "If you need anything else, just give me a call."

JJ nodded. "Thanks, man."

______________

You were still out cold when the Pogues woke up.

"What time is it?" Pope asked groggily as he rubbed his eyes.

"11:30," Kiara responded with a sigh.

JJ stood up and pulled on his boots.

"Where are you going?" John B asked.

"Gotta get some stuff from my place," He said before leaning down and placing a kiss on your forehead. "Keep an eye on her, I'll be back in an hour."

"Okay," John B responded.

"Call me if she wakes up!" JJ yelled as he ran out the door.

JJ sighed as he adjusted the gun in his waist band. Making sure he would be able to grab it if needed. He stood in front of his house, the front door was wide open.

He walked in slowly. Scanning over his home in search of his dad. "Dad?" He asked softly. There was no response. He wasn't sprawled out in a bloody heap on the floor where JJ had left him the night before.

The house was quiet and when JJ was sure there was no one inside he headed toward your room. He grabbed a duffle bag out of your closet and started shoving as many clothes in it as possible. He grabbed a book that lay on your bedside table. He also grabbed your purse knowing all your important items would be in there. When he was done, he threw the bag over his shoulder. He was about to head out when something caught his eye.

He picked up the gold chain that lay on your dresser. A small locket attached to it. He popped it open to find a picture of your mother. He smiled. You looked so much like the woman she used to be before drugs took over her life. He noticed the picture in the other side of the locket. It was a picture of the two of you when you were kids. He brushed his thumb over the small picture as he remembered that day. You taught him to build sand castles and make jewelry out of shells you found on the beach. He remembers how well you were able to distract him from the sound of your parents fighting.

"Y/N!"

JJ snapped out of the memory as someone knocked on the front door, yelling your name. He shoved the necklace in his pocket and grabbed his gun.

He rounded the corner, pointing the gun at the intruder.

"Fuck!" Rafe said as he turned around and noticed JJ pointing the gun directly at him. "Chill dude," Rafe said as he put his arms up in defense. "I'm not here to start anything."

"Why are you here, Rafe?" JJ asked, still pointing the gun in his direction.

"I'm looking for Y/N,"

"Why?"

"I just wanted to talk to her about last night. Apologize." He lowered his hands as JJ lowered the gun. "And I think I can get her her job back."

JJ looked down at his feet. "She's not here," He said as he pushed past Rafe and out the front door.

"Well, do you know where she is?" Rafe asked as he followed him. "Look, JJ, I'm sorry about last night. I really am. But I care about Y/N."

"Rafe!" JJ yelled as he turned to face him. "Look, man, just-just go home, okay? We've got shit to deal with." JJ snapped.

Rafe looked him in the eyes, his brows furrowed. "I-is she okay?" His voice was soft.

JJ could feel tears forming in his eyes, but he wouldn't dare cry in front of Rafe. "Go home, Rafe." His words were quiet but firm as he turned around and stormed off.

Rafe ran his fingers through his hair. Nausea creeped through his body as he began to worry. What happened to you? He was beating himself up over the way he had treated you. You were the only person to actually care about him. That scared him and he pushed you away. Now he was scared he would never get the chance to tell you how he really felt.

_______________

Rafe chewed on his thumb nail as he made his way up to his room. He paused when he heard Sarah on the phone. He leaned closer to her door trying to make out what she was saying.

"He was going to sell her?! Like to traffickers?!"

Rafe's breath hitched. Was she talking about Y/N?

"Is she awake yet?"

There was silence. Rafe still held his breath.

"Well, we can bring her to Tanneyhill. She'll be safe here."

Rafe waited a few more moments.

"Alright, I'll be there soon." Sarah said before hanging up the phone.

"Fuck," Rafe whispered as he leaned his back to the wall and pressed his palms to his eyes.

Sarah opened the door and jumped at the unexpected sight of her brother. "What are you doing?" She asked him.

"Sarah, was that about Y/N?" He asked as he pointed down to her phone.

"Are you listening to my conversations?!" She asked, irritation in her voice.

"Sarah. Sarah!" Rafe yelled, squeezing his eyes shut and lowering his hand slowly to try and calm down. "Is Y/N hurt?"

"Why do you care, Rafe? I thought you hated Pogues."

His eyes began to water. "Is she hurt?" His voice cracked.

Sarah's expression softened. She nodded softly. "Yeah, Rafe. She is. And she's not safe, we need to bring her here."

"Where is she?" He asked, already fishing his keys out of his pocket and headed down the stairs.

"She's at John B's." She replied, following him quickly.

Rafe and Sarah both climbed into his truck. He turned it on and quickly threw it into drive as he sped off towards the Cut.

"Tell me what happened, Sarah." Rafe demanded.

Sarah had never seen her brother like this and it frightened her.

"Uhm, I don't know everything just that her dad beat her and drugged her when she got home. When JJ found her she was unconscious and her dad was getting ready to sell her off to some men. JJ got her out of there right when they showed up." She explained.

Rafe clenched his fists around the steering wheel as he sped faster towards John B's. Sarah gripped her seat tighter, nervous at the speed they were accelerating to.

Rafe pulled up in front of John B's house and quickly threw the truck into park before hopping out.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," John B said as he watched Rafe quickly approach his house. Pope stood behind him, ready to fight if need be. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"He just wants to help," Sarah said, standing between Rafe and John B.

"Where is she?" Rafe's voice was shaky.

John B stared at him for a moment before nodding towards the door. "On the couch," He said.

Rafe pushed past him and went inside, immediately seeing your bruised unconscious figure laying flat on the couch. Kiara had just put you into sweats and a t-shirt before using a warm rag to wipe away the rest of the blood from your wounds.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she asked as she turned to Rafe.

"Fuck," Rafe cried softly as he fell to his knees beside you and Kiara, taking your hand gently in his and putting it to his cheek.

"What the fuck?" Kiara mouthed to John B as him and Sarah came inside. John B just shrugged with wide eyes, equally confused as the rest of them.

"John B do you have like any clean-" JJ began as he entered the room. "What the fuck are you doing here, Rafe?" JJ spat when he saw Rafe kneeling by your body. "Get the fuck away from my sister!" He said, lunging towards him.

Rafe fell back and held his hands up. "I just wanna help!" He yelled. JJ paused as he saw Rafe crying. "Please," He whispered. "Let me help her." He begged.

"We can take her to Tanneyhill." Sarah chimed in. "Our parents will be gone for the rest of the week. She can recover there. And whoever is looking for her won't find her."

JJ thought for a moment, biting his lip. "Okay." He agreed, realizing that would be the safest place for you while he sorted all of this out. "Let's take her there now." He said as he went to lift your off the couch.

"Grab her shit," JJ said to Rafe as he nodded at the bag beside him. Rafe did as he was told.

Rafe ran out of the house and opened the door to the back seat. JJ climbed inside with you, resting your head on his lap. When Rafe was sure you were safely in the truck he jumped in the drivers seat. Sarah climbed in the passenger seat and the rest of the Pogues got in the bed of the truck.

You could make out voices around you but you couldn't get your eyes to open. The voices were familiar. "JJ?" Your voice was barely a whisper.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm here," He said as he ran his fingers through your hair.

"Is she up?" Rafe asked, constantly glancing back at you in the rearview mirror.

"Barely," JJ replied.

Rafe chewed on his bottom lip the whole drive back to his house. Once he pulled into the driveway, everyone was quick to help you out. Sarah guided them to the large spare bedroom and JJ laid you gently on the bed.

_____________

That night, Sarah started a fire in the fire pit out back. The Pogues sat around drinking beer and laughing. Rafe, however, never left your side. He sat in the chair next to your bed, focusing on the rise and fall of your chest as you slept peacefully.

"How do you know her?"

Rafe looked up to see JJ leaning against the doorway, beer in hand as he examined your state.

"She, uh..." Rafe began. "We met a couple months ago. Never met anyone like her before."

JJ nods his head. "She's a good person. Smart as shit too. Which makes me surprised she hung out with you."

Rafe chuckles and runs his tongue across his bottom lip. "Yeah, she's, uhm, special. The only person that's ever really given a fuck about me."

JJ was silent as he came to the other side of your bed, running a light finger over the stitches on your face.

"I was a dick," Rafe spoke up. "I fucked things up and I need to make them right. I mean, I-I just can't believe this happened."

"Well, I can't make her forgive you. And quite frankly, she's too good for you. But," JJ began. "I need to go find dear old dad and make sure she's going to be safe. Can I trust that you'll keep her safe here?"

Rafe nodded eagerly. "Yeah, of course. Anything I can do to help."

JJ studied Rafe's expression for a moment. He was being genuine. As much as JJ hated Rafe, he could tell the feelings he had for his sister were real and trusted that she'd be safe in his care.

[syluslvrgirl]

BAD GIRL GOOD GIRL

pairing ─ policeman!caleb x civilianfem!reader contains ─ MINORS DNI, fem!gendered terms, use of y/n, good girl/bad girl, lots of pet names, spicy content, basically just p no plot, no established relationship, slight degradation, teasing, kind of roleplay, unprotected p-in-v, handcuffs, oral (m and f receiving), missionary, very forward reader, some dom and sub dynamics, kind of fluff at the end, all strictly fictional word count ─ 4.1k about ─ when you accidentally mistake police officer caleb for a hooker, things take an interesting turn!

notes ─ heavily inspired by caleb's farspace fleet outfit sO IMAGINE THAT INSTEAD OF A NORMAL POLICE OFFICER UNIFORM. my first time writing this type of content!! i think i put in the right stuff in the contains section but let me know if there's anything else i should add. hope you enjoy ;)

The lights were glaring and the music was pumping throughout the club. You and your group of friends had dressed up to the nines for your birthday, booking yourselves a little table in Linkon City's hottest nightclub. The DJ was playing some banging 2000s hits and you couldn't contain your excitement as you drank shot after shot, drink after drink. And if that wasn't enough, you and your girls had decided to take the party to your apartment, blasting out music from your tv speakers and dancing around to your heart's content.

The girls soon left one by one clambering out of your apartment, still giggling and high off the energy of the night. They mentioned a 'special surprise' that they had prepared for you, not giving you the slightest clue to what it was. You thanked them all for coming as they left, opting to spend the rest of your time awake and cleaning the mess that had now accumulated in your apartment. You could worry about washing up after all of that was done. 

Ding dong. The doorbell rang accompanied by two sharp knocks at the door. You looked at the clock which was now nearing 3am. That’s odd? Maybe one of the girls left something here, you thought. Hurrying over to the door after hearing another knock and an "Excuse me", you looked through the peephole only to be met by a tall, violet eyed man in a stunning police officer uniform. No fucking way. You had spoken to the girls multiple times about liking men in uniform but you didn't think they would send you a male hooker dressed in uniform for your birthday. Opening the door, you gave the man an innocent smile.

"Hi officer. What seems to be the problem?" you questioned, head cocked to the side.

"Hello ma'am, I'm Officer Caleb. I’m just here because there's been complaints about the noise coming from your apartment." he declared, eyeing your figure and the inside of the apartment. You were a sight for sore eyes and the way your eyes fawned over him had him drooling just a little. However, he had a title to uphold and a job to do. He couldn't risk it all over a precious, gorgeous thing such as yourself, could he?

"Hmm? A noise complaint? I don't know what you mean Officer.....Caleb." you drawled with a grin, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ears as you drew your eyes from his badge to his lips. This man looked delicious, absolutely ravishing even and if you were right he was all yours for tonight.

"Ma'am what was your name?” Caleb asked, eyes gazing into yours.

“I'm Y/n.” you answered, holding his gaze.

“Well Y/n I think I'll need to take a look inside your apartment. Extra precautions you know?" Caleb insisted with a smirk, his arm propped up against your apartment door. 

"Of course sir. I'm a law abiding citizen. I would never disobey an officer of the law." you answered with a giggle. Opening your door, you stepped aside to let this handsome stranger walk in. He took his hat and badge off, surveying the area. Wow this man is really into his role, it's kind of hot, you ogled as he walked around your living room.

"Anything else you need to check out? I've got a whole lot more to show you." you slyly asked, eyes perked up to meet his. 

"You sure about that pipsqueak? I'm off the clock in a few minutes. You mind waiting?" he questioned, eyebrows raised. 

"Sure thing Officer, anything for you." you breathed, fingers trailing across his chest to meet his tie and pull him in towards you.

"A little impatient aren't we?" he chuckled with a slight shake of his head.

"What can I say, I really like a man in uniform." you emphasised, not once taking your eyes off of him. Caleb was flattered to say the least. Throughout the many years working as a police officer, never once had he been so enamoured by such words from an attractive woman like yourself. Maybe it was the boldness in your actions and that fucking cute smile. He wanted to know exactly how those pretty lips would look wrapped around his cock. 

"Why don't you show me to the bedroom then? Nothing like a little routine check to make sure everything is in order." Caleb suggested still peering at your lips.

"Right this way officer." you purred, pulling him by his tie to the direction of your bedroom. You dragged him in before pushing him towards the bed, jumping onto Caleb and straddling his waist.

His hands landed onto your waist, before pulling you in for a deep kiss. Both your lips moved rapidly against each other, whilst your hands ran through his hair, tugging at it before going to the nape of his neck. The kiss was hot and heavy, your tongues delving deeper into each others' mouths, hands hastily grabbing at whatever they could. You two kept going with no breaks for air as Caleb slowly leaned back down towards the bed, bringing you along with him. You broke free from the kiss, eyeing Caleb and his muscular body.

“So Officer Caleb, are you satisfied with your routine check of the bedroom? Anything else you need to do?” you smirked, noticing the lipstick stains Caleb was now sporting on his own lips.

“Unfortunately I don’t think I'm done with my routine check just yet. Someone has been a really bad girl. I'll need to conduct a strip search." Caleb answered, hands roaming all over your body. He quickly flipped you over onto your back, causing you to softly yelp from the sudden movement.

“I think I want to start with these.” he whispered in your ear, hands cupping your breasts from over your top and softly massaging them. 

“Definitely officer, I can help with that.” you replied, taking your top off, revealing to Caleb your cute lace bra. Caleb began peppering kisses from your lips to your neck, all the way down to your bra.

“May I, Y/n?” he softly asked, motioning to the back clasp of your bra.

“Yea go for it.” you breathed, eyes fluttering at him. Caleb swiftly undid your bra clasp revealing to him the most perfect pair of tits he had ever laid his eyes on. Looking up to your eyes for confirmation, you gave him a small nod. Within seconds, Caleb had latched onto your nipple, sucking and flicking his tongue on one whilst he rolled and tweaked your other bud between his fingers. This sudden pleasure and sensation elicited soft whines and moans from your mouth. Caleb's hands and mouth were magical, sending electricity pulsing all throughout your body. 

“Mmm, just like that baby. I want to hear you make those noises. Let me know how good it feels.” he groaned. God you sounded amazing. He wanted to hear more. The sweet noises you made urged him to keep on going. 

“More Caleb, please.” you moaned, feeling a warm wet pool beginning to form between your legs. 

“Are you going to be a good girl for me then? Going to listen to whatever I say?” Caleb hummed, now kissing and leaving marks from your chest to your neck as he continued fondling your breasts.

“Yes, yes.” you replied nodding without any hesitation, hands making their way to tug onto Caleb's hair.

"Good. That's exactly what I want to hear." Caleb cooed, making his way to your lips. Once again, he pulled you in for another kiss. This one being more intense and more eager than the first. You melted under his hypnotising and yearning touch, both your tongues swirling roughly against each other. You wanted to move, palm the growing bulge you could feel pressing against you but you were in too much absolute bliss to be able to move.

"I want these to come off too. Still haven't finished with my strip search yet, pipsqueak." Caleb added smugly, now looking down at your miniskirt and tugging at the hem of it. 

"But you haven't taken anything off yet. It's not fair." you whined, pulling at his tie in an attempt to take it off.

"Nuh uh, hands off baby girl. You said you'd be good. Let me finish my routine check and I'm all yours." Caleb answered, eyes commanding you to back down as he held onto your wrist in an attempt to pry them away from his tie. You gave him a pout before following through, ever so slowly taking off your skirt along with your panties. Caleb's finger ghosted slowly to your sides, placing soft gentle kisses and leaving marks along the way to your core. He gently moved your legs apart, marvelling at the slickness coating your folds.

"I bet you taste just as good as you look right now." he praised before completely devouring you, attacking your sensitive bundle of nerves with his tongue laid flat, flicking it with long, slow licks. You groaned, your thighs clasping around his head as your body sunk into sensation, responding to his movements. He clamped onto your clit, sucking and licking it like a man starved and desperate.

"C'mon now, what did I say? I want to hear you Y/n. Only good girls get prizes." he urged, eyes looking up at you whilst he continued swirling his tongue on your clit. His hands moved from your legs to your tits, this time doubling the feeling of pleasure as he continued tweaking and rubbing your breasts. You whined in response, your back arching as he continued ravaging you in the best way possible. Caleb began dragging long licks from your cunt to your clit. Tongue darting in and out of you, lapping up your juices. Fuck was this hooker good at his job. Your friends must've paid a whole lot of money for this package. 

"Fuck, you're making me feel too good." you moaned, looking down at the handsome man in between your legs. His eyes met yours, observing the way your eyes scrunched up and how your moans were shaped on your mouth. He studied you, seeing which licks and sucks elicited the prettiest expressions on your face, etching it forever within his memory.

"I'll make you feel even better in a moment. You're so pretty like this for me. Doing so well pipsqueak. Just a little bit more and then you can have your way with me." Caleb rasped, his hands now making their way back towards your core. 

Caleb's finger began burrowing its way between your folds until it came nestled into your sopping cunt. He purposefully dragged his finger slowly into you, causing a slight whimper to escape from your mouth. He ran painstaking slow circles within you, adding another finger whilst his tongue was still flitting over your now sensitive bundle of nerves. 

"Hmm I can't seem to find anything in here except your tight cunt. You're sucking my fingers in so nicely huh? Wonder how it'll look when you're sucking in my cock." Caleb taunted, teasingly grinning up at you succumbing to his pleasurable movements. 

"Mhm more please Caleb." you breathily let out. Your hands clambering from his hair to your bed sheets with your mind now a blur.

"What was that baby? I can't hear you. Speak up and I’ll give you what you want." Caleb smirked, still continuing his slow assault within your cunt.

"I want you to go a little harder please." you seethed. 

"That's my good girl. Since you asked so nicely, your wish is my command." Caleb grinned before moving his fingers faster within your aching centre, hitting just the right spots. He used his other free hand to rub circles around your throbbing clit.

"Fuck, Caleb. I can't think straight at all." you drawled, head thrown back with your eyes rolling back to your head.

"That's just what I like to hear." Caleb chuckled now, moving and rubbing at a slightly faster pace, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. The way you were writhing under him was hotter than any girl he had ever had and he wanted time to slow down for as long as it could. Your whines and moans echoed throughout the room, urging him to keep going faster and harder with his movements. He gave you another longing kiss, feverishly devouring you. You moaned into the kiss and the way you sounded almost made him want to finish in his pants right then and there, almost. 

"'M so close." you let out as your laboured breathing began mixing in with soft mewls. Your hands were grappling at your bedsheets, head spinning and reeling from all the build-up of pleasure. 

"You are? It's so cute the way you're tightening around my fingers. You gonna be a good girl and come for me then?" Caleb crooned and with those words you came undone by his hands. Your body trembled in delight, head thrown back and riding through the tremendous waves of gratification for what felt like forever. Your body was a temple and Caleb had just paid his dues in worshipping in it. Slowly your eyes fluttered open as you came down from your high. 

Looking over at Caleb you ogled his fully clothed body, still clad in his tie and slacks with his handcuffs dangling from his belt. 

"Wanna use them?" Caleb asked, taking off the handcuffs and dangling them in the air. The silver metal glinted in the lights, calling out to you.

"Oh you don't need to ask me twice." you answered eagerly, grabbing the handcuffs from him before looping your arms around his neck.

"Sooo Officer Caleb, since you've had your fun, I think it's my turn." you declared, a mischievous gleam within your smile. Your hands moved to his wrists, locking the handcuffs around them so that his hands were now cuffed up behind his back.

"Hmm, are you going to make me feel good then?" Caleb questioned, smiling at your cute attempt to take charge. Still he'd let you have your way and then he'd show you who really was the one with all the power. 

You straddled his hips, hovering slightly over the bulge confined in his pants and deliberately grinding your hips at an achingly slow pace. Caleb hissed in response, violet eyes glaring into yours. You giggled before leaning into him, engulfing him into another kiss. Both your mouths melding into one another, drawing out soft groans from Caleb as you continued your slow-paced assault against his tent. You helped him undo his tie, unbuttoning his shirt as you continued to kiss your way down towards his pants. 

"Mind hurrying up there?" Caleb grunted, eyes now searing into the way your hands slowly, but surely, began to undo his belt.

"You took your time with me, what's wrong with a little payback?" you teased, unzipping his pants and finally pulling his boxers down, freeing Caleb's twinging thick cock. It was so fucking pretty. Perfectly shaped and curved, a smidge of precum leaking from the top with veins perfectly intact.

"Are you just going to keep staring or what?" Caleb smiled smugly as he noted how you looked at him in awe.

In response to his comment, you gave little kitten-licks on his lip, savouring the taste, eyes peering into his. Your tongue swirled around the top of his cock, teasing him, drawing him in and making him want more. He moaned, bucking his hips in an attempt to get his cock deeper into your mouth. You pulled back and Caleb's aching cock was met with the cold air of your bedroom. 

"C'mon pipsqueak, you can do better than that." he frowned, upset with being denied the pleasure of sinking his throbbing cock into your sweet, sweet mouth. 

"Say it with a please at least." you jokingly scoffed.

“Please pipsqueak." he pleaded, eyes clouded and full of need. You answered him by licking from the base of his cock to the tip, spitting onto it so you could lube it up. You began sinking your mouth onto his cock, using your hand to pump him from the base upwards. Fuck this man was a little too big. You bobbed your head up and down trying your best to breathe through your nostrils as your hand continued stroking.

"Fuck baby, you're doing so well. Be a good girl and try to fit all of me in your sweet mouth, pretty please?" he groaned as your mouth went slack, moving deeper down onto his cock and feeling the tip hit the back of your throat. Caleb let out a throaty moan as you carried on sucking and caressing him, making him see stars as he closed his eyes. Your mouth let go of Caleb's cock with a pop before staring up into his daring eyes.

"Can I ride you?" your words came out as a whisper, barely registering in your head what you had just said. Caleb's ears perked up, a smile carved onto his lips.

"I thought you'd never ask pipsqueak. Be my guest." Caleb answered, moving his legs wider to give you space. You positioned your dripping cunt over the tip of his cock, slowly but surely easing yourself in. A hiss slipped out from Caleb's lips whilst a whimper escaped from your mouth. He was stretching you out, moulding his way into you. You took short deep breaths, sinking yourself further down to the base of his cock.

"That's it baby, you're doing so well for me hm?" Caleb drawled, the feeling of being so deep in you was doing things to him he couldn't comprehend. It was a perfect fit. Like you were made to fit him, an exact piece to his puzzle. 

You began to move, your hips grinding against Caleb's and soft moans eliciting from your mouth. To Caleb you looked like heaven, no you were heaven. If he had died and this was what greeted him up in heaven, then he wouldn't have it any other way. Your hips were driving him insane and if he wasn’t so concentrated on trying not to finish so quickly, he would’ve already been a goner. He couldn’t take being unable to move anymore and ever so secretly undid the handcuffs just exactly like he had been taught within the police academy. Within seconds your back was now on your bed, Caleb’s cock still in you, his eyes now held a mischievous glint in them and his face was adorned with a smirk. 

“Huh? How did you even..?” you gasped in shock, confused at how he had undone his handcuffs so quickly.

“They teach you a lot of things at the police academy.” he grinned with his hands now massaging your hips, slowly easing his way in and out of you, evoking short, sweet gasps from you.

“Please Caleb.” you let out, grasping at whatever pleasure was rippling through your body.

“Please what? Gonna need you to be more specific baby girl.” Caleb mused, peppering kisses all along your neck and chest. 

“Need you to move please, Caleb.” you groaned, pouting at his minimal amount of movement. He was teasing you, provoking you to want more from him. And in truth, all you really wanted him to do was fuck your literal brains out. 

“But I am moving.” Caleb taunted, torturing you with his painfully slow movements.

“Just fuck me like you mean it Caleb.” you answered back, now glaring at him instead. 

“Your wish is my command, princess.” Caleb beamed before absolutely going in. His hips snapped against yours, his tip hitting just the right spots that sent your head reeling and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. He showed no mercy, suckling at your sweet skin as though tonight was his last night on Earth and everything he did needed to count. 

“Hmmm you’re so fucking pretty like this.” Caleb let out, panting and grunting at every word he gasped through his breath. You moaned in response, hands moving to latch around Caleb’s neck, leaving scratches behind his back as the satisfying way his cock hit right at your cervix had your body leading up to another high. 

“Mmm right there, it feels so good Caleb.” you mewled, cooing praises into his ear. Your words of affirmation motivated him more, rousing him to move in a more circular motion and prompting his movements to grow at a steady pace. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you and closer into you. 

“Can’t get enough can you? You just want me deeper and deeper inside don’t you? Gonna go so deep you won’t be able to forget how I feel baby girl.” Caleb moaned, the feeling of being squeezed and absolutely absorbed by your soft walls was sending him over the moon. 

“Caleb, ’m close again.” you drawled, feeling your high getting closer and closer, a building tempo increasing within your clenching walls.

“Fuck baby, me too. You’re gonna have to stop clenching so hard I won’t have enough time to pull out. ” Caleb replied, feeling too good at the way his cock was rubbing so nicely against your cervix, his own nerves bundling up inside him. 

“Can’t help it. Feeling so good. Gonna come soon Caleb.” you stuttered, your voice barely a whisper before finally the feeling of being tipped over the edge, hit you like a wave crashing all throughout your body. Your back arched in response, letting out one final gasp and after a few more thrusts, Caleb's high followed along with yours, pulling out and spilling himself all over your stomach and breasts, groaning in the process. You still had your arms around his neck, before you pulled him in for another kiss.

“Holy shit princess, that was incredible. Let me get you cleaned up. Where’s your bathroom?” he asked, sweat now prominent on his forehead and hands frantically looking for tissues. 

“I’ve got tissues on my desk. Bathroom’s right next door, there should be a spare towel there.” you answered with your limbs sprawled out on the bed. Caleb rushed to grab the tissues, slowly and carefully cleaning himself off from your chest and your stomach. He ran to grab your towel, wetting it and wiping you down ever so gently, a stark contrast to his headstrong persona in bed before. He cleaned himself up with the spare towel, making sure he chucked both towels into your laundry basket before settling down right next to you.

“You don’t mind if I stay the night, do you? I know we don’t really know each other but-” Caleb began, hand running through his hair as his eyes darted around.

“Be my guest. After what we’ve just done, I'd say we’re definitely a little closer.” you giggled at his shyness, wondering where exactly Officer Caleb had gone. He was a stranger, yes, but by now you had definitely broken all the ground rules on stranger danger. Plus a man who had treated you that good in bed was surely a man worthy of being allowed to stay over. Caleb moved under the covers, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you into his chest. The lull of his heartbeat and the way he stroked your hair pulled you into the most peaceful sleep you had ever had. 

Ding dong. Your doorbell was ringing, disrupting you from your wonderful slumber as you cocked your head up from Caleb’s warm chest. Who the hell was it at this hour? You grumbled to yourself, grabbing your phone to check the time. Your phone read 1pm whilst flashes of birthday messages, photo tags and more were flooding through to your notifications. Not wanting to wake up Caleb, you moved slowly to the door, peeping through the peephole just like you had done last night. There in front of your door stood a man in an awful looking police officer costume. 

You began frantically messaging your friends, wondering to yourself who it was that was at your door. Surely your friends hadn’t hired two hookers for you. After last night you knew you couldn’t handle nor wanted anything more. You received a reply back:

‘Must be your surprise! He said he was supposed to come last night but he got delayed. Enjoy ;)'

Your eyes widened. If the man outside was supposed to be the hooker your friends had hired for you, who the hell was the man who had fucked you oh so good last night? Eyeing the badge Caleb had left on the kitchen bench, you opened it up, only to be met with an official Linkon City Police badge and the name Caleb Xia boldly printed on it.

Oh fuck.

[lxnarphase]

chef's kiss, she's a treat ๋࣭ ⚝

❝ do you like my new lip combo, baby? ❞ wc: 4.1k

☾₊‧⁺...ft. : blk!fem!reader + g. satoru + g. suguru + n. kento + h. hiromi + f. toji + k. shiu + k. choso + r. sukuna + h. kinji + t. fumihiko + t. aoi ☾₊‧⁺...cw : sloppy kissing + messy make-outs, marking, grinding + dry humping, praise kink, oral fixation, finger sucking, spit kink, overstimulation, cock-warming, dacryphilia, daddy kink, size difference + size kink, desperate men, videotaping, breeding kink

☾₊‧⁺...synopsis + a/n : jjk men seeing their blk!gf's new lip gloss/lip combo that just makes her lips so fucking good they can't keep away from her | i have been working on this for 3-4 days because it had to be PERFECT or i would never forgive myself, so enjoy this absolute filthy creation of mine that i poured my heart into 🤎 ☾₊‧⁺...tags : @currentlyaways

can't stop kissing you ↴

✧ g. satoru ; he doesn't say anything when you first come out of the bathroom, asking if you nailed the 'clear coat with the 5% tint edges' look. no he's letting out a needy, shaky sigh when he pulls you into his lap by your wrist. he looks so conflicted as he stares at your lips, running his finger just under your bottom one, not wanting to ruin your lip gloss.

"y'so pretty, y'know that," he whispers against your lips, just barely pulling away before diving back in for more. each kiss is sticky and messy from the gloss, satou having smeared it all over his mouth and yours. his hand his buried in your mess of curls as he keeps you from pulling away for air. he knows when you really need it, don't worry, just let him kiss you, yeah? you don't have a choice, not when his other arm is wrapped around your waist, keeping you in one spot. "s-shit, satoru, b-baby," you start before getting cut off by the rolling of his hips. "yeah? feel good? mn, shit, you're so so pretty, princess," he moans into your mouth, his tongue slipping past your lips again to taste you again. he can feel that he's just smudging more of your lip gloss and he can't help but whine. it always felt so fucking good knowing he got to be the one to see you all pretty and gussied up just to fucking ruin it with his touches. satoru's breathe hitches when your hips begin to grind down against his own. "pretty thing," he hisses, giving a little tug on your soft coils. "you keep this shit up, and i'm gonna mess up more than just that pretty lip makeup." you can't help but laugh against his lips, giving him a quick, messy kiss. "you started it, 'toru, 'm just finishing it."

✧ k. choso ; choso was just being a sweetheart, clingy for your attention as he whines, pouting until you kiss him on his lips. he instinctively lips his lips and is pleasantly surprised at the sweet taste on his lips. 'are you...why do you taste so good," he innocently asks, looking at your lips in confusion. when you pull out the little tube of lip gloss, pink and green, the words 'watermelon flavor' catch his eye. '...oh...can i kiss you again?'

you know you're gonna have to clean the couch. you want to be upset, but you can't. not when choso has you folded in half as he desperately fucks into your creamy cunt, his mouth smushed against yours. he's barely even kissing you, he's just fucking your mouth with his tongue at this point. all of your lip gloss has been effectively licked off by choso, but he didn't care. you still tasted like watermelon, and he wanted more. he's moaning into your mouth, pulling away from you with sticky strands of saliva connecting him to you. his hand comes up to run over your lips, whining when he realizes all of your lip gloss is gone. "'m sorry, baby, i-i licked it off, 'm sorry," he whimpers, his hips stuttering briefly as he cums. he grinds into you with a loud cry of your name, pumping another hot load into your pussy. it's okay, it's messy, but he's gonna clean you up after with his mouth. "d'you wanna taste? wanna see how g-good you taste? yeah? c-come on, open up, please." you do as he says, sticking out your tongue with a moan, and he opens his, too, saliva dripping from his tongue onto yours. when you close your tongue and swallow, choso's crying, sobbing your name, and he throbs violently inside of you, picking up speed. before he smashes your mouths together, he moans against your mouth, "so good, so f-fuckin' good, babyyy, your pussy 'n' m-mouth are gonna make me melt, i love you s'fucking bad."

✧ h. hiromi ; you had the new lip gloss on all day and hiromi was so sweet about it, giving you little pecks here and there, chuckling whenever you'd playfully scold him for stealing some of the gloss. he'd just tease you, asking if he looked pretty with the gloss on, too, before kissing you again. even now, when you're both on the couch, your back resting against his chest, he can't stop kissing you

hiromi plants soft kisses along her jawline, peppering her with affectionate whispers. "there you go, my sweet girl," he murmurs, his thick fingers thrusting in and out of your sensitive hole. "you are the sweetest little thing. you're so gorgeous today, i love it when you wear lip gloss, even if it is a bit sticky," he chuckles against your cheek, turning you to kiss you. his tongue slips into your mouth, rubbing over yours as you softly moan, trying your best to fuck yourself on his fingers. "please, hiromi," you softly keen, desperately kissing his lips, smearing your lip gloss all over him. "please, honey, m-make me cum," you whine, one of her hands moving to her glistening cunt to swirl circles around your throbbing clit. "i-i wanna cum on your fingers s' you can fuck me, baby." hiromi let out another soft chuckle, his nose nuzzling into your soft curls that were getting frizzy. "god, you're so fucking adorable," he murmurs, knocking your hand away from your clit so he could pick up speed without bumping against your hand. "of course, baby girl. i'll take care of you. just relax, and I'll make you cum all over my fingers, sweetheart."

✧ t. fumihiko ; all you do is pull out the peach lip oil and roll it on your lips, smacking them together, and fumihiko's attention is zeroed in on you. he's up in your face, asking what you just rubbed onto your lips. he can smell it, and it smells so sweet. if it smells good, it must taste good, right? you managed to stop him from running his tongue all over your lips in front of everyone at the bar, managing to pull him away when you caught that curious lick of his lips. once you're away from everyone in a corner, he's on you.

the poor thing, still inexperienced with kissing with the way he's messily pressing his lips into yours, enjoying the faint peachy flavor he swears he can taste on you. you don't have the heart to tell fumihiko it's just the peach whiskey, enjoying the way he was desperately pressing you into the wall with the force of his kisses. "taste so good," fumihiko whines, finally pulling away to look at your mouth. "gosh, i-i could kiss you all day, s-so sweet..." it's messy from the smearing of the lip oil and the mixture of saliva. just the view of you all messy...it makes him snap, his eyes wide and brow furrowed as his fingers run over your lips to smear more of the mess around. next thing you know, he's slipping his fingers into your mouth, pushing them down on your tongue. "t-this okay?" fumihiko's nervous as he asks, his free hand unconsciously coming up to wrap around your neck to hold you in place, a shudder wracking his body from the soft moan he gets from you. "that's a good noise," he mutters to himself, trying to keep himself from getting to excited. "y-your mouth 's so wet, so hot, it's not fair, i w-wanna feel you it again. c-can i put it in? we can go home, i-i wanna put my dick in your m-mouth, want to fuck it, it's so pretty—" he won't shut the fuck up now, past the point where he was able to. not with the way you were drooling and moaning against his fingers. fuck, he's so hard, he can feel the way his tip rubs against the fabric of his jeans. why the fuck did he go commando, this friction was gonna drive him mad. you notice it, too, feeling the way fumihiko was so pathetically humping into your thigh. and oh, the pitiful whine of your name he lets out is music to your ears. easing his hand out of your mouth, you press a wet kiss into his palm, looking up at him so prettily through your lashes. "c'mon, baby boy, lemme take you home, i'll take good care of you...wet and sloppy, just how you like it."

likes when you mark him ↴

✧ n. kento ; while kento was away, you felt like playing around with your makeup, trying out a simple dark brown upper lip and clear gloss look. you look so precious, your curly hair in a messy puff ball as you greet him in the bedroom. all you had on was a tank top and some pink lounge shorts as you got up from your vanity. the second he comes home, he's complimenting you, telling you how nice your makeup looks. when you ask him coyly if he wants to see the color, how can he say no?

kento is melted into the mattress, breathless as you continue to cover him with kisses. he promised he'd buy you new tubes of lipstick and lip gloss as long as you just kept kissing him everywhere. "aww, ken, you look so handsome," you say with a giggle, pressing yet another kiss on his neck. "did you miss me while you were at work? wanted your wifey to cover you in kisses baby?" you can feel his cock pulsing inside of you with each press of your lips. poor thing was doing his best to not buck up into you, to just flip you over and pound into your pretty pussy. but it was so fucking hard with the love of his life marking his entire upper body in kiss marks, occasionally licking and nipping at his skin. "honey, i'm gonna move jus' a little bit," he rasps, a groan bubbling out of him when you grind your hips as a response. "just keep kissing my neck, darling, lemme make us both feel good." the first roll of his hips has you moaning against his neck, smearing lipstick all over it. he feels so fucking deep, he's kissing your cervix with these deep, slow strokes. "god...your cunt is gushing for me, baby," he sighs, his eyes rolling back when he feels you mouthing right under his ear. "d-did, mm, fuck, did marking me up get you this wet? yes? aw, baby, you like marking me as yours?" you nod with a giggle before getting cut off with a gasp, his hips snapping up hard into your pussy. "c'mon, honey. keep kissing, i'm gonna fuck you good until you run out of lipstick."

✧ g. suguru ; suguru is mean. he's so mean to you today, he doesn't let you suck him off, he just tells you to kiss all over his cock with those pretty stained lips, tugging you away from his tip when you try to suck on it. no, no, you're not gonna taste him, not yet. he wants you to mark him up, condescendingly soothing you each time you whine when he tugs you by your locs away from his tip. with the way he keeps looking up at the mirror, he's got a plan for you.

"sugu, sugu, sugu, s-sugu!" "oh, you moan so pretty, princess...keep sucking me in that little pussy, take this fat cock, baby girl, doin' so good for me." he's got you in a full nelson in front of the mirror, making you watch as his cock fucks in and out of your messy little cunt. the best part? he could see the dark kiss marks all over his dick. "aww, you can see your kiss marks," he coos into your ear, his breath fanning against it as he pants. seeing your eyes start to roll back, suguru chuckles. poor thing, it felt so good you couldn't even listen to him when he said to keep your fucking eyes on him in the mirror. he slows his hips, smirking when you whine in protest. "shhh, don't whine, you don't wanna behave? don't wanna see my cock that you marked up all pretty get wet from your messy pussy? tch, my poor baby..." that's all it takes for you to squeeze your eyes shut, a choked-off sob leaving you as you start to make a mess. each time his cock pulls out of you, thick cream is pulled out of you too, the milky substance dripping down his length. suguru laughs meanly in your ear, cooing to you as he finally starts to pick up speed just from that. "awwww, babyyyy! did you cream? mm, but i didn't feel you cum," he teases with a coo of your name. "your covering up some of the kiss marks...pfft, don't cry like that, you look too fuckin' pretty. let's make you get creamier, okay?"

✧ h. kinji ; kinji buys you all kinds of lipstick and lip gloss because this man is obsessed with seeing your lips all shiny and pretty. his favorite on to buy you? the dior lip oil. god, he loves how it makes you look so delicious, he can barely keep himself from kissing you until you can't think, but the day you try on the mahogany lip oil with a soft pink lipstick under it? he's obsessed with how juicy it makes your soft lips look, and kinji cannot stay off of you.

after about 30 minutes and what felt like 100 reapplications of the lipstick and gloss combo, kinji is covered in kiss marks from his forehead down to his cock that is currently pistoning in and out of you. you're so fucking glad he made you hold your phone to record him fucking you like this because you could not stop looking at him. he looked so good, and that stupid fucking grin on his face told you he knew you liked it. "shit, cupcake, your so fucking tight right now," he choked out with a laugh. when you pout and try to hold the phone at a better angle to catch the way his cock slid in and out of you, his rhythm falters. he just knows whatever the fuck comes out of your mouth is about to break him. "i-i want to do this to you more, k-kinji. marking you up makes you look pretty an' it means y-you're mine." the phone is squished between you and kinji when he shifts positions, folding you into a mating press that just pushes him in deeper, the head of his dick nudging right against that spot that makes you fucking cry. "kinji—!"mmn, s' there? yeah, 's there, right fuckin' there," he mutters against your lips, picking his pace up again right where he left off. his fingers are laced on top of your head and fuck, he's reminded of the pretty purple faux locs you got to match his purple hair and he curses, angling his hips to get as deep as possible inside of your tight, slick walls. "i'm all fuckin' yours, cupcake, all yours, all fuckin' yours. fuck, gonna mark me up every time we fuck? huh? oooh shit, 'm-'m not lettin' you go until this fuckin' cunt is flooded with my cum, baby, you're gettin' bred t'night like a good fucking girl."

✧ t. aoi ; another victim of the the clear coat with the 5% tint edges. he's weak for it, so fucking weak. your lips are already one of his favorite parts of you, with how soft and plump they are, how sweet they taste whenever he places a peck on them. so when todo walks into the kitchen and sees you, his pretty girl in his shirt, and that simple but oddly sexy lip combo? he's already getting hard in his sweats, struggling to maintain eye contact with you as he greets you.

all you did was kiss his chest and giggle at the faint pink lip gloss mark left on it. your front is pressed against the cool counter of the marble island, your drool dripping onto the surface. he's so fucking big that your toes are barely touching the floor. todo's thick fingers are in your mouth, keeping your mouth open to let those pretty noises out that you kept trying to hide. he holds onto your hips, using the leverage to drive himself deeper into you, relishing in the tightness and wetness of your pussy. "you're such a pretty thing," he groans, his voice filled with a mix of lust and dominance. "taking my cock like a good little whore, bunny." he grunts with each tight squeeze of your cunt. you clenching around him so fucking much, so fucking needy for him. todo doesn't hold back, thrusting into you with a primal need as a rhythmic plap, plap, plap fills the kitchen. "a-aoi, baby, baby, please, m-move a little, s-so close to my spot," you beg around his fingers, squirming around to try and aim his cock right at that sweet spot. anything, anything for you. todo angles your hips just a little differently, and you practically scream, his cock now hitting your sensitive spot with each deep thrust. "oohmygod, baby, i-i can't, 's too deep," you cry, hips trying to tilt away when you realize that he's abusing that spongy spot inside your slick walls. "'s your fault, bunny. you wanna mark me up? hm?" he can sense your getting closer to cumming as he targets your sweet spot relentlessly. "fuck, i was so hard the second i saw those pretty lips of yours, and you fucking mark me." the pitiful whine he gets from you has his hips stuttering momentarily, eyes rolling with a groan. "you're such a fucking mess, bunny," he growls, his voice laced with possessiveness. "you're taking this dick like a good fucking girl. lemme fuck you just the way you need it."

wants it smeared on him ↴

✧ f. toji ; when he sees the glittery gloss coat on your lips, toji lets out a low whistle. he loves when you wear lipstick, but this shimmery look on you has his attention. you're talking to him, and he's trying to look you in the eye, but his eyes keep drifting to your lips. in the middle of your sentence, he gently takes your hand and places it right on the bulge in his white sweats, smirking when you falter for a moment as he just goes, 'mhm, keep going, mama, 'm listenin.'

if you could, you would laugh, knowing that toji's cock was all shiny and glittery from the combination of your spit and your pink-tinted shimmer gloss. but with the way he was busy fucking your mouth, his fist full of your braids. toji's grip keeps your head in place as he slides his cock in and out of your hot mouth, green eyes occasionally rolling back in his head. you've gotten so much better at this, at letting his fat dick stretch your throat. and the view, god, the view. you are so pretty like this, your mascara smudging down those cute cheeks of yours while thick strands of saliva and precum messily dripped from your chin to your chest. "that's it, baby, you're taking it like a champ," he praises breathlessly, savoring every time he feels you swallow around him. his praise made your eyes flutter, a muffled moan vibrating so deliciously around his dick. "ohh, shit," toji hisses, thrusting his hips a little deeper and making you choke, the feeling of your throat restricting around him, making him groan your name. fuck, seeing him hunch over like this made you drag your nails down his thighs, desperate to taste his cum. he just looked so fucking good when he felt good. with a huff, toji looks down at you, eyes narrowed. he's getting so close, and he can't wait to pull you off him and kiss you before helping you apply another coat of lip gloss so he can kiss you dumb while he fucks his fingers into you. and that look in your eye...tells him you want it too. "y-yeah? y'like it when i use your, shit, your pretty mouth? god, looking so beautiful, ma, love how you look in this lip gloss." yeah, he loves it when you smear it all over him so he can grin in the mirror after, seeing how glittery he is.

✧ r. sukuna ; he's so mean. sukuna acts like it's not his fault that you both will be late, all because he thinks your new lip gloss combo will catch the attention of men and make them stare at your lips. it might cause a little flicker of the eye to your mouth, but no one could get to the same level of sukuna. no, it was impossible to compare to how he'd glare at your lips before growling and smearing your lip liner all over his mouth.

he wishes he could take a picture of this and frame it on the fucking wall. the visual of you between his legs as he sits on the bed, his cock pulled out of his dress pants. the slow drag of your lips up and down his cock, seeing the pretty smear of your pinkish-brown lip gloss...fuck, he wants you like this all the time. "thaaaat's right," he praises you, brushing back your soft curls from your face. "let me see how much you like having my cock in your mouth. such a slut, fuckin' slobbering all over it." sukuna throbs in your mouth, his tip hot as it presses against the back of your throat. if you weren't used to it, you would've choked from how much precum he's dripping into your mouth, forcing you to constantly swallow to keep your mouth from getting too full. however, sukuna is caught off guard when you pull yourself off him, glaring into his eyes. "sukuna, we are 20 minutes late," you scold him, sneering a little as you grip his spit-coated cock and stroke him furiously, taking out your annoyance on him. the deep groan he rewards you isn't enough, no, you wanted a nice date, and instead sukuna was thinking with the wrong fucking head. again. "you ruined my makeup, ruined my lipstick, and i already fuckin' know my mascara is fucked." it is, and he loves it, the dark streaks of it dripping down your cheeks that are framed by your soft curls. "did all that just to get my lipstick on your dick? hm? you're so fucking nasty," you huff with a roll of your eyes before taking him back into your mouth, a choked moan, his legs jumping in surprise. " shut up, 'kuna. do you wanna ruin my lipstick and make us miss our reservation? fine, but you're gonna cum until you can't anymore."

✧ k. shiu ; shiu is tired of his new client, ready to get out of his clothes, into the shower, and then in bed with you wrapped in his arms. so imagine his pleasant surprise when he comes out of the shower to his pretty wife sitting all pretty on the bed in lacy lingerie and soft makeup. and all shiu can think about is you smearing that pretty pink coat of gloss all over the length of his cock.

"atta girl," he grunts, his fingers thrusting in and out of your mouth slooowly. you're between his legs, manicured hand stroking up and down his length that's covered in pink kiss marks, the tip a pretty saturated pink from all of your suckling. "such a desperate little thing for me, aren't you? got all dolled up for daddy t' come home, and you look so gorgeous," he softly coos, one of your braids twirled around his free hand. you were so cute, you didn't even know. the baby blue lingerie you had on contrasted against your skin so perfectly, and seeing you look up at him with such a cock drunk expression was the best thing shiu could've come home to. "you're doing so good, angel, sucking my fingers like it's my dick. d'you want it?" when you nod, tongue sliding over his fingers slowly, shiu chuckles, the deepness of his voice going right to your core. he sounds so good when he talks, when he laughs, it's unfair. slipping his fingers out of your mouth, he cups your chin. "you gonna suck me off? i want your pretty lipstick smeared on me, okay? there you go," shiu hums with a little groan. you had the prettiest little mouth, and even if you could only fit half of him inside of it, that's okay. you still look so cute as you try to take more of him in. "take every inch like you need it, baby."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[st4rfckerz]

Farmboy | Farmhand!Anakin Skywalker x Farmers!daughter

word count: 4.1k

warnings: MDNI 18+, oral (male receiving), face fucking (if you squint), unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, slow(ish) buildup, not proofread

summary: Anakin is your family's farmhand and after inviting him to dinner, you can't keep your hands to yourself

Your family owned a farm out West, not far from the outskirts of town. It was quiet, as farms often are. The land was hilly, rolling out as far as you could see. The sun was shining, and the blue sky was bright with few clouds in it. The sound of horses and the wind rustling through the trees was all you heard. The air was crisp, and there was a slight tang of wildflowers.

Anakin was one of the farmhands that your family had hired a few months ago, a man who was quiet but skilled. As one of their hired hands, he was responsible for helping with the maintenance of the farm's livestock and machinery. His primary role was to ensure everything ran smoothly, which meant keeping the animals fed and watered while fixing broken machinery when needed.

It was midday when you approached him in the garden shed with a worried expression on your face. "Ani, I need your help. The sheep pen collapsed, and I can't find any tools nearby." Panic was evident in your voice, hinting at the potential consequences of leaving the sheep unattended for too long. Anakin followed you back to the dimly lit barn and you found the sheep wandering around their stalls, bleeting softly.

"I see," he muttered looking at the pen, he glanced over where the sheep were grazing. "I hope nothing else broke." he says under his breath, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of damage. He walked forward, whistling for the sheep that were scattered, and they came to him. He began leading them towards their pen, some were very fussy about it and didn’t want to go, yet he remained calm and gentle.

"Don't worry, I'll fix it," Anakin assured you, stepping over the fence and rummaging through the debris left by the fallen wood.

"You need me to help with anything?" you stand near him awkwardly, not sure what to do.

“Nope. I got it under control,” He said calmly, continuing to lead the sheep. You admired his patience and his ability to stay so level headed. "You can just sit there and look pretty while I get this done." Anakin shoots you a slick smile that makes your insides turn a little.

"I won't be bothering you?" you ask as you sit down on a bale of hay.

"You won't be bothering me at all sweetheart," He says, his eyes traveled over your body and he smirked at you. "You can be my moral support." He leans against the aged wall of the barn. His stance was relaxed, very casual as he was being nonchalant, but with you he was a little different. Something about you made him like this.

Anakin couldn't help but notice how good you looked in their simple dress, its hemline brushing against your thighs, revealing just enough skin to drive him wild. The sunset cast a warm, golden light over your body, creating a delicate glowy outline around your figure. It was almost like the sun was wrapping itself around you.

"You know you could stay for supper if you'd like," you suggest, breaking the silence of the barn. "I'm sure my folks won't mind." He watched as you leaned back on the bale of hay, and he couldn't help but notice your dress riding up a little. It was a small thing to notice, but he saw it.

Your dress wasn't that short, by any means, but the way it rode up on your legs was enough to make Anakin notice you. His gaze drifted down to your legs, and back up to your face.

"Oh I don't know, I don't wanna intrude or anything-" You smiled and cut him off, stopping him in his tracks.

"Please Ani? Just this once?" You walked over to him, and with that sweet tone in your voice, you were playing him like a fiddle. It was clear that your invitation was genuine, you wanted him to stay so you could keep his company. He smiled at you and looked away from your eyes for a moment. When he looked back at you, he was slightly speechless. The words were caught in his throat, and he couldn't speak, he wasn't used to someone that could make him flustered.

"Well, alright I s'pose I could join you." Anakin smiles. "What's mama bear fixin' up tonight?"

he smirked at you, his expression was playful, but you could tell he was serious. You laughed lightly at the silly nickname he often uses for you mother.

“She’s making beef stew, with biscuits. All from scratch, too.” you explain. "And there's fresh apple pie for dessert." His smile showed he was interested, and he couldn't help but admire your beauty. You looked like a little doll, with sweet doe eyes that could disarm any man.

"Then I'll be there." His voice had a masculine yet flirty quality to it, and it sent shivers down your spine. It was like music to your ears.

"Good, I'll see you later farmboy." You tease, knocking his hip with your own as you walked past him. You felt his eyes devouring you whole, looking at your sweet face and the sway of your hips.

As he continues to fix the pen, he can't help but think about the upcoming dinner. He's never had dinner with you and your family before, so he wondered how it would go. He didn't know if he'd be welcome, but you said they wouldn't mind, and you're pretty much like a little princess in their eyes so it shouldn't go wrong at all.

The evening rolled around, you were sitting at the table waiting for him, ready for the dinner to begin. Your family was already seated around the table, discussing various things. They all seemed pretty jovial, and you could hear the occasional laughter, as well as bits of conversation.

You looked around and expected to see Anakin walking through the door at any second, yet he was a bit late which was out of character for him.

Just as you thought he might've bailed last minute, Anakin's voice draws your attention towards the door, where he was finally walking in. His expression had a hint of embarrassment, since he was later than he thought he'd be. He had a shy yet sheepish look on his face, as if he expected you or your family to reprimand him.

"Sorry," he said quietly, looking at you, "I'm a bit late."

"Ani! I was afraid you flaked out on us." you joke as you abruptly got up from your seat to greet him. When Anakin saw you get up and come closer to him, he was initially confused as to why. But then you envelope him in a tight hug, catching him completely off guard. He didn't know how to respond, as he was taken aback by your show of affection.

"No, I'd never do a thing like that." he responds.

He hugged you back, his hands squeezing you tightly as you felt his body pressing against yours. He was caught by surprise, and he didn't expect you to show any affection. His body stiffened up as you hugged him, as he remained still.

However, he felt a wave of warmth rush through him and it caused him to relax into the hug. He wrapped his arms around you, feeling a new feeling of closeness between you both.

"Come eat, there's plenty of food." You let go of the embrace, but you still keep your hands on him, dragging him to the seat right next to you. He didn't hesitate to follow you, nor did he show any opposition. You both sit down, with you being right next to Anakin. You pull yourself slightly close to him, close enough that he could feel it.

Anakin's eyes look up at your father, his expression showing a bit of anxiety. Your father smiles warmly at him, and welcomes him to the table. Anakin smiles back in response, looking down at the table a bit. Your father proceeds to sit down, as does the rest of your family. The dinner proceeds like normal, everyone engaging in conversation with one another.

"So Anakin, how's everything been?" your father asks, his aged, gravelly voice booming throughout the room.

"I've been quite fine sir, same old news." Anakin says, smiling a bit as he takes a bite from his biscuit.

"Anakin fixed the sheep pen today." The conversation shifts as you interject, causing Anakin's attention to look up. Your words get everyone's attention, as they all look at Anakin, who is sitting to the side.

"Oh, did he?" your father says, looking at him. Anakin's ears pick up, and he looks over towards you. Your father continues, "I'm sure the sheep are happy." He blushes slightly, nodding his head humbly as he looks at your dad.

Your mother pipes up with her own question, pointing the discussion in another direction.

"So Anakin, what do you do in your free time?"

Anakin answers, keeping his tone relaxed and level.

"Nothin' too special really," he says, taking a few moments to respond, "Just hang around, or fix things. Y'know how it is." He's cordial, polite, and has a soft attitude.

He treats you with respect, yet his attention keeps flicking back towards you again and again, as if he was drawn to your charms. You felt as if you were a magnet to him, as he always looked over at you after he said anything.

As you lean forward to grab the salt, your fingers brush against Anakin's thigh under the table, a subtle gesture that sends a thrill through both of you. He raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on his lips. He knows exactly what you're doing. You quickly return to your seat, trying to hide your flushed cheeks under the low light.

"The food is really good mom." you smile sweetly at her. While you speak, your fingers graze along Anakin's growing bulge under the table, a subtle hint of your growing attraction.

Anakin's eyes meet yours for a brief moment, he swallows hard, trying to maintain his composure as he continues the conversation. The tension between you two is palpable, yet unnoticed by the rest of the family.

Dinner comes to an end, and your mother presents a homemade apple pie for dessert. The family cheers in appreciation, and you can't help but smile at the delicious aroma wafting through the room. The scent of apple pie creates a cozy atmosphere that wraps around you like a warm blanket. Anakin compliments your mother on the meal, his eyes never straying far from yours.

As everyone digs into the apple pie, you feel Anakin's hand gently slide in between your thighs under the table. You try your hardest to suppress the smile creeping onto your face, the connection between you two growing stronger with each passing moment. The dessert is sweet, but it's nothing compared to the warmth you feel inside.

When you finish eating your piece of pie, you stand up and gather your plate and utensils, turning to head towards the kitchen sink. Anakin follows closely behind. You work side by side, the clinking of dishes echoing through the kitchen.

Anakin's hands are large and rough from farm work, but they move gracefully as he washes the dishes. He looks at you, his expression calm but also full of appreciation.

"It was nice having dinner with your family." he tells you, "thanks for inviting me over."

You give him a smile and use a nearby towel to wipe your hands. "It was no problem, they enjoyed your company." He smiles back, his jaw firm but his eyes showing that he was genuinely pleased.

Just as your family enters the kitchen with their now empty plates,  you lean in close to Anakin, your voice barely above a whisper. "Meet me in the barn in five minutes." you say, your eyes filled with anticipation. Anakin's gaze locks onto yours for a moment before he nods, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Your father approaches, engaging Anakin in conversation about the farm and the upcoming town festival. You turn to your mother, your cheeks flushed but your voice steady. "I'll be right back, I just need to check on the chicken coop."

Your mother doesn't seem to suspect anything unusual since this was usually the time you'd check on the chickens anyway. "Take your time, dear. We'll be in here for a bit longer." She waves you off, her smile warm and understanding.

You wait for everyone to settle down before slipping out of the house, making sure to lock the door behind you. The moonlit night casts a pearlescent glow over the yard, illuminating the path leading to the barn. You hurry inside, your heart racing with exhilaration.

Anakin watches you leave, his eyes never leaving yours as you exit the house. He knows what's coming next, and he can't help but feel a whirlwind of trepidation. The anticipation killing him, but he forces himself to continue the conversation with your father, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him.

Finally, your father finishes his glass of sweet tea and stands up, nodding goodbye to Anakin after he explains that he should be heading home.

The sound of crickets and distant frogs filled the air as Anakin walks towards the barn, his boots rustling against the grass beneath him. He approaches the old barn slowly, his heart racing faster than a stallion at the starting gate. He takes a deep breath before opening the door, the creak of the hinges echoing through the night. He called out your name softly, his voice tinged with anticipation. The barn is dimly lit, with the moonlight filtering in through the cracks in the wooden walls.

As he stepped inside, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. You were there, your eyes locked onto his.

"Hi." you say softly, your voice tinged with a hint of mischief. The barn feels smaller now, the air thick with tension. Your eyes lock onto each other, and the crickets chirping outside seem to grow louder. Anakin takes a step towards you, his confidence wavering only slightly.

"Hey," his tone is softer than normally, you could tell just from his voice he was nervous. His eyes are locked on you, scanning every inch of your body. "Your folks know you're in here?" he asks.

You shake your head, biting your lip to suppress your smile. "I told them I'm checking on the chickens." His eyebrow raises, a hint of amusement playing on his face.

Anakin clicks his tongue while shaking his head teasingly. "You shouldn't be lyin' to your parents sweetheart." He looks at you with a certain sparkle in his eyes, as if you made him feel special with a simple remark.

"Technically, I glanced over there when i was walking over here." you state matter-of-factly. Anakin steps closer to you, his fingers brushing the little strands of hair out of your face. His eyes never leaving yours. His touch is gentle, yet electric, making your heart race even faster. You step closer to him and you can't help but feel the pull between you two. The barn feels comforting and inviting, a secret haven away from the world.

"You look real pretty tonight." Anakin compliments sincerely, his hand still resting on your cheek. His thumb brushes against your jawline, sending shivers down your spine. You nuzzle your cheek against Anakin's big palm. "Thanks," you whisper, your voice barely audible in the silence of the barn.

Anakin's thumb traces a line along your lower lip, teasingly brushing against the corner of your mouth. His hand moves to your waist, his fingertips grazing the hem of your dress, sending electric currents through your body. Anakin leans in, pressing his lips against yours in a gentle peck. He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching for your reaction. Seeing your approval, he leans in again, this time with more intensity. His kiss is soft yet passionate, filled with a sense of longing.

The kiss intensifies, your lips pressing harder against each other, tongues dancing in a rhythm only you two understand. Anakin's hands slide into your hair, pulling you closer, his breath hitching in your mouth. You break the kiss, trailing your lips against the rough stubble along his jaw. He groans softly, his hand tightening on your hair.

"Been thinkin' about you all day," Anakin panted between breaths. He grips your waist to pull you impossibly closer as you continue to explore his neck with your lips. "You and that damn dress." His hands moved up to cup your breasts, massaging them roughly through the thin fabric of your dress.

You giggle softly, your teeth grazing lightly against his neck. "You're that worked up over a dress, Ani?" Anakin whines quietly in response, his hips desperately bucking in your direction. You pull back slightly, your eyes locked on Anakin's. His eyes widened in surprise as you suddenly dropped to your knees, your hands reaching for his belt buckle. He groaned, his hips rocking forward, his cock straining against his pants.

Your hands reach for the hem of his pants, slowly pulling them down, revealing his muscular thighs. You reach down further, your fingers brushing against the waistband of his underwear. With a quick tug, they fall to the ground revealing his thick cock, hard and ready just for you.

"You're killing me kid." He managed to croak out as you slowly wrap your hand around the base of his shaft, stroking it gently. You lean forward and kiss his angry red tip. It twitches in anticipation, leaking a small amount of precum onto your lip. Your tongue darts out, tentatively exploring the head of his cock, savoring the salty taste. You moan softly, your hands reaching down to cup his balls, massaging them gently.

Anakin's hands grip your hair tightly, his moans turning into groans of pleasure as you continue to tease him. "F-fuckin' hell," he growls, his hips rocking back and forth, pushing his cock further into your mouth. You stroke the part of him that doesn't fit into your mouth, your fingers gliding up and down his length. You can feel him twitching, his body trembling under your touch.

His cock pulses in your hand and his breaths come in ragged gasps. You gag slightly, your eyes watering, but you don't pull away. Instead, you take as much of him as you possibly can.

" 'M close- hold on, I'm- ah!" His cock twitches violently in your mouth, shooting a hot stream of cum down your throat. You swallow it unhesitatingly, eager to please him. Gazing up at Anakin, your eyes is fixed on his. He's panting heavily, his hands shaking slightly. His eyes are filled with admiration and desire. You can feel the heat of his gaze, and it makes you blush slightly.

"Come 'ere," he says, his voice hoarse. He pulls you to your feet, his lips crashing into yours. His tongue dances with yours, tasting himself on your tongue. His hands wandering over your body, cupping your ass and pulling you closer. As you kiss Anakin, you can feel him growing hard again, his cock pressing against your thigh. He slowly walks forward, guiding you towards the small tractor in the back of the barn. His lips never leave yours, his hands roaming over your body, exploring every inch. He moans into the kiss, slapping his big hand against the fat of your ass. "Turn around for me baby." he commands.

Anakin bends you over the tractor, and flips your dress up, exposing your pink cotton panties to him. He strokes the growing wet spot gently, his fingers grazing your bare skin.

"Jesus, she's practically dripping for me." he whispers, his voice filled with lust. His hands move to your panties, tugging them to the side, revealing your swollen, hot flesh. He licks his lips, his eyes locked onto your slobbering cunt. His cock pulses, ready to be inside you.

Anakin lines up his cock with your entrance, gently pushing in. You gasp, your body adjusting to his girth. He holds onto your hips, guiding himself inside you. He thrusts deeper, his cock filling you completely. You moan softly, your body quickly getting used to his size. "Thaaat's it, angel." he praises, his voice low and alluring. "Let me in."

His hips move slowly at first, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease. Your body responds, your cunt clenching around him, pulling him deeper. Anakin's breaths come in ragged gasps as he starts to move faster, his hips slamming into you, each thrust sending you further onto the tractor.

You cry out as he sweetly rolls his abdomen, his cock hitting your sweet spot with each movement. The tractor creaks under your weight, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the barn.

"Takin' me so good baby." he growls, you can feel his cock stretching you, filling you completely.

"M-more Ani," you beg, your voice hoarse. "Need more-"

"Yeah? You want more?" he rasps, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. Anakin pulls you up by your neck and your back is now pressed against his chest. He thrusts harder, his cock hitting your G-spot with every movement. You yelp in surprise, your nails digging into the arm he has wrapped around your shoulders to keep your body flush against his. "There you go, you can take it, I know you can."

"Needy little girl," he teases, his voice thick with desire. "Just couldn't keep your hands off me at dinner, shit, could've bent you over that damn table and fucked you raw in front of your folks if I wanted to."

You moan, your head thrown back, your body moving with his. Your walls flutter around him when you hear his vulgar words.

He chuckles, his hands gripping your neck tighter. "You'd like that wouldn't you? Oh, you're dirty." He turns your head roughly, his lips crashing into yours, kissing you messily.

His tongue duels with yours, his hands gripping your neck tighter, holding you in place. You moan into the kiss, your body trembling. "Ani- cumming, c-cumming!" You can't form any coherent words, your breath coming in gasps as you neared your climax.

"Let go sweetheart, I got you," Anakin's breath tickles the shell of your ear as he speaks. You cry out as your orgasm quickly wracks over your body, your cunt contracting tightly around his cock. "That's my girl, c'mon." His breath comes in ragged gasps, and sweat trickles down his forehead, his chest heaving. It takes a few more powerful thrusts for him to fully unload inside you, his cum filling you up completely.

He takes a moment to catch his breath, and carefully withdraws from you, his cock glistening with your wetness. He hastily pulls up his pants and adjusts himself.

"You did so good for me." he whispers, his voice filled with awe. He carefully fixes your dress, smoothing out the wrinkles. "You look even prettier now," he says, his eyes filled with admiration.

He reaches up, fixing your hair, his fingers grazing your face. "You best get back to the house," he says, his voice filled with concern. "You know I'll be here tomorrow."

You nod, your cheeks flushed, your heart still racing from your encounter with him. "Mhm," you hum quietly. He smirks, his eyes filled with mischief.

You smile, a blush spreading across your cheeks when he leans in and brings his lips to yours one last time.

Anakin leads you towards the barn door, his hand still wrapped around yours. "I'll see you tomorrow sweetheart." he coos, his voice filled with promise.

You nod, your cheeks still flushed, your heart racing. "See you, farmboy." you say, your voice shaky. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, and you step out of the barn, your body still buzzing from the encounter. As you walk away, you can feel his eyes on you, watching you every step of the way. You glance back, catching him standing by his truck, his hands on his hips, watching you walk away.

You enter the house, trying to compose yourself. Your parents were still awake, sitting in the living room, sipping on their drinks. They didn't notice anything amiss about you, thankfully. You made your way upstairs to your room, still feeling the evidence of your encounter between your legs.

You feel a thrill of excitement, knowing that Anakin will be waiting for you at that old barn, ready to have you whenever he wants.

[georgiapeach30513]

When I'm With You

Summary: Poor little rich girl. Your dad may have been the richest man in Massachusetts, and own the Boston Bruins, but you were utterly alone. Everyone only wanted you for your money the perks you brought them. All but Ari. Who also happened to be your dad’s best friend and the Bruins top player. You sure knew how to make him sweat. And now he wanted to break his one and only rule; never to touch you.

Pairings: Ari Levinson X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, PIV sex, creampie, soft!Ari, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.1K

Moodboard Event

Ari Levinson Masterlist

Ice sprays up against the protective barrier and you’re able to slink down just a few extra inches before he notices that you’ve shifted. Keeping your eyes closed because you’re not in the mood to talk to one of the players. You are supposed to be observing, but this is just so boring! Maybe if you actually had friends that gave a damn for you and not your dad’s wealth you wouldn’t be here.

“What’s that?” The fool says, pointing his finger towards you. Don’t move, and don’t engage in the tomfoolery.

“That is this thing we call a woman,” Pigs. The second voice chuckles, while random bits of what you’re assuming are the sticks clapping together sound in front of you. They are gathering to gawk at you. Please just leave you to rot in peace.

“Back to practice,” yes, listen to that voice. Follow along like the good little soldiers you are.

“I thought this was a closed practice,” shit. Other voices join in, agreeing with the man. Have they ever seen a woman before? Legitimately seen a woman in the flesh that wasn’t pawning all over them.

“And she doesn’t look like someone who is stealing plays.”

“Still a closed practice, Lev.” “Yeah!” “Ask her who she is!” “Get her out of here!”

Fuck them. You were told to be here. “That won’t be necessary,” that took your father long enough. You don’t have to have your eyes open to know that he is looking at you, knowing you’re not actually asleep. All the players hoop and holler at your father. Trying to act all cool now that their team owner is on the ice.

“Sleeping beauty over there is my daughter,” oohs sound in front of you, and you know your lip is curled in annoyance. Embarrassing. “She’s going to be watching you, while I’m away.”

“Daddy D we don’t need a babysitter,” jeering. No, they need a kick in the groin. They act like dogs chasing a bitch in heat.

“Yeah, you do, Jensen,” they’re children. And your father wants you to just watch and observe. “Obviously the coach will keep you boys in line,” men. They’re men. “But I also expect you to listen to Ari and my daughter.”

“Your daughter have a name?”

“You can call her boss,” you didn’t mind that. He’s looking at you again, so you let a smile lift your mouth. “Best behavior. And boys,” men. “Keep your hands off,” oh good grief. He knows you don’t go chasing a puck for pleasure. “I mean it,” he hits someone’s shoulder, and there’s a soft pause, “Lev, watch her.”

Oh, no. You don’t need a babysitter. His back is to you, and he’s already walking out of the rink when you bust your eyes open, and stare right back at this Ari. Of all the fucking people to say that to, it had to be the one that you even somewhat thought was attractive. Your little brother had a poster on his wall of the giant that is Ari, The Punisher, Levinson.

Fucking hell. Ari skates the little bit of a distance to the barrier, and bangs his hands up against the fiberglass. “Seems like you’ve been trusted in my care, Boss.”

“Get back to practice,” is all you say before reaching in your bag, and pulling out a book. You don’t know if this is the right intimidation tactic you can think of, but Ari’s eyes flick down to the title. His mouth turns up into a devilish smirk before you look over the pages glaring, “Is there a problem, Levinson?”

“Didn’t realize that you were such a horror fan,” horror? You look at the cover of the book, and he chuckles. What were you thinking choosing The Score as a way to intimidate them? It has a cute cover, and a hockey romance. And was far from horror. “Made ya look, Boss. Alright, boys,” men. “Get back on the ice. And hands off. See you afterwards, Bunny.”

“I’m not a damn, puck bunny!”

He smiles skating backwards. His eye contact is both concerning and hot. You shouldn’t look at him either. Players are forbidden, and nothing but trouble. Especially that one. The player. The team captain. The one with the best ass on the team.

——

“She got nothing better to do?” You’d come to know the players better. That one is always talking like you can’t hear a damn thing. No, you don’t have to be here, but where else is there to go? What could be more important than keeping your father’s dream and legacy as a well oiled machine?

“It’s a bit weird that she’s at every practice, and she’s rarely watching,” a few of the players grunt in agreement. It’s your cue to fake sleeping. Again. “Her head is in one of those books, or she’s doing that. Who comes to practice to sleep?”

“Does it bother you that much, Jensen?”

“Well, no,” he sheepishly responds, backing away from Ari. “It’s weird, and unsettling.”

“She’s got a job.”

“Even the big man doesn’t show up as much as she does,” you didn’t have to listen to this. You had other things to do besides be here. You could — well you could just easily — there is always spending daddy’s money. But that’s not you.

You could always sit at a coffee shop alone, but you weren’t fond of coffee shop coffee. You could easily go watch a movie by yourself. Peeking through your lashes you glare up at Ari who is standing mask to mask with Jake Jensen.

Placing the bookmark in your book, you just get up, and walk up the stairs. You weren’t going to be the reason that the Neanderthals were fighting. There really isn’t anywhere else for you to go, but you’ll find some place.

“See you what you did,” Ari shoves Jake’s arm, while the younger man looks up at you. “From now on, don’t worry about it, okay? She’s a nobody, and she’s not here watching you scabs, got it?” Ari looks back to Jake, and the other man nods a head before Ari looks up at your retreating form.

—

Ari pushes your legs off a control panel, causing you to jump up, and get into a defense pose. Your confused look turns into anger very quickly, and you glare at him. “That’s an expensive piece of equipment. Keep your feet off it. Or do you think you can do that because Daddy can pay for it?”

“Fuck off.”

Ari taps on the panel for a few seconds. His vision goes from you to the ice, and then back again, “Why didn’t you just leave?”

“And miss an opportunity to fall asleep to the best lullaby in the world?”

“You’re not sleeping in the stands,” no, you weren’t. You’re trying to remain as invisible as possible. “You could have called some of your friends, and went to the mall or something.”

“I’m not seventeen,” of course he would think all you’re capable of doing is shopping. It’s what everyone thought. You were to be seen and spoiled, not heard.

“Then you could have gone to a bookstore. What are you reading today?” You lift up the book, and Ari tilts his head to read the title. “What’s it about?”

“An Irish Rugby player.”

“So no more hockey players?”

You shake your head no, and reach to put your book in the bag, “I like to escape when I read.”

“What else is in the book?” You furrow your eyebrows, unsure of what he’s meaning. “I mean is there — my sister reads a lot, too. The most popular books have, um…”

“Sex?”

“Yep. That — that’s what’s in there,” his cheeks flush the cutest pink color. Talking about smut in books clearly is out of his comfort zone. And you’re not entirely sure why he wants to talk to you about books at all.

“Why are you concerned if I’m reading a smutty book?” Ari shrugs his shoulders, trying to remember the title of the book. He didn’t want to read it, he just wanted to know what it was about. “Why are you concerned about why I’m up here?”

“Practice is over. Figured you needed to wake up,” he’s very strange and different when he’s not being the captain. “Why do you come to practice?”

“You told Jensen yourself, I have a job.”

“Yeah, but your job doesn’t really entail being here every practice. If I didn’t know any better I would think that you’re checking us out,” you roll your eyes, starting to stand. You can go home and sleep. At least there’s no one there to bother you. “Especially me.”

“You’re very full of yourself, Levinson,” you say as you stand up. You almost thought he was going to be different. But they’re all the same. They think they know everything about you. About how easy life must be because you grew up rich. It was isolating.

“Or is it because you have no friends, and nowhere else to go, so at least you’re not alone when you’re here.”

“Goodnight, Ari,” he didn’t know anything about you or about your life.

“Someone that seeks out human interaction so much, and yet she’s a bit rough around the edges. People using you for your family’s money made you jaded, but not everyone is out for that. Not everyone cares about what you can buy,” he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s just saying a bunch of words. But words shouldn’t strike you so hard.

“You keep talking about things you don’t know or understand,” you keep walking, but he stays behind you.

“I know because I’m just like you. It’s why I make a good captain.”

“Goodnight!” Ari jogs up in front of you, stopping, and making you halt your exit. “What?”

“I can’t lock up myself, so I have to leave first.”

“Then go.”

“What are you doing this evening?”

“What?” That came from nowhere, and you’re intrigued.

“What are you doing this evening? Where are you going? Do you have plans?” Ari knows he should let you go. He was told to stay away. But you seem distressed, and he’s bored. Nothing has to happen, just dinner and some wine. “I’m asking because I’m actually a really good cook. I’ve got a great wine selection,and you’ll be doing me a favor.”

Plus, if you like him, your dad can’t kill him. “We can carry on with our bantering if you like. But I really don’t want to eat alone, so can you join me?”

“You don’t have some puck bunny you want to have dinner with?”

“No, but you sure like to judge and insinuate I’m just like every other hockey player. We come in all different shapes and sizes, and I don’t much care for a woman chasing my money and fame. I’m going out on a limb to say you’re not going to do that, and this is just dinner.”

You aren’t. You didn’t need to. You had enough wealth from your father, “What are you cooking?”

“Fish? Chicken? Steak? Grilled cheese? Pizza? I’ve got this great pizza stone. My mom and dad are both in the restaurant business. Mom’s a manager, and dad’s a chef. I can make anything. Depending on what you say, I may have to drive to a store. But…don’t make eat alone.”

“You have to keep your hands off me,” Ari smirks. His eyes trail over your body in a not too unpleasant way. You kind of like it. You wish he would look again.

“Of course. I made a promise to your dad.”

“And this doesn’t change my watching practices.”

“I wouldn’t ever think it would. Kinda like you watching me,” he’s not wrong, but he’s so full of himself.

“Stop flirting,” Ari smiles, and you point down the hallway for him to go first. If you have to lock up the stadium, he must lead the way. He’s the forbidden fruit. Don’t fall for a hockey player. They’re nothing but trouble.

——

Ari looks up at you from the ice, and then back to his team. He tries to hide the grin that perks his mouth up, but a few catch it. Even the nosy Jensen rests his chin on his hockey stick smiling like an idiot at his captain. “That’s going to be all for today. Rest, drink your water, work out your muscles, and be ready.”

“Exactly how do you work out your muscles, Lev?” Jake’s eyes drift towards you before returning to Ari with a shit eating grin.

“Shut up, Jensen.”

“So that means that you and…”

“Jensen!” Another team member cuts in. “Shut up.”

“But we were told to stay away,” everyone groans, starting to walk off the ice. Each one knocking against his shoulder, and grumbling as they walk past. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. So Lev…”

“Shower quickly, Jensen,” Ari says, looking towards you. His mouth gets wider with a devilish grin. Jake starts to say something else, but Ari pushes him playfully again without looking away from you. Grunting something inaudible.

“I wish people would stop doing that.”

“Then shut up, and shower quickly. You bastards have five minutes.”

“Why five?”

“Because I have a meeting with someone,” Ari’s grin goes wider. Jake starts to say something, but Ari covers Jake’s mouth with his giant hand, and finally breaks eye contact with you, “Four minutes.”

“The boss said you had to leave that one alone,” he gives a hard finger point towards you. “You are a very bad boy. Misbehaving. Time out. Walk away, and nothing will happen.”

“And when you kindly fuck off, I’ll be an even badder boy,” Jake dramatically gasps, grabbing at his chest. “Three minutes, you cheeky bastard. Please, Jensen, I’m aching here.”

“I’m only leaving because I don’t want to hear about your blue balls. And you,” his face looks up at you, “You could have had this, and you chose that caveman! Don’t come crawling back to me! You could have had it all!” His hands slide over his chest, trying to make you swoon, you suppose.

“Jensen!”

“I am going!” His voice is nearly a whine as he marches away. “You get none of it!” He throws a hand up, emphasizing his point. Goober. He is loveable, but a goober nonetheless.

You start making your way down the bleachers, and lean over the edge, “What? You think I was going to follow you into the locker room, and you can have your way with me?”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I don’t know the idea of you sucking my dick while I wash off sounds amazing,” you shake your head no, “You really don’t like sucking dick, huh?”

“Sweaty dick, absolutely not. While also being drowned by the water doesn’t sound like a fun time. But,” you step out onto the ice, and Ari’s eager eyes look up and down your body. “I could let you fuck me on the ice,” he shakes his head no. “In the stands?” Still he shakes his head no.

“Or,” you let your finger run over his chest, teasing him while also making your need for him stronger. Heat floods your body with anticipation of having Ari. Again. “I could let you take me in the locker room. That way when the big game happens this weekend, you get to stare at the place where you saw yourself leak out of me for the first time. It’ll be good luck.”

“I like that option. It’s the game that your father returns,” Ari knew you had a penchant for wanting daddy’s attention. He might have used it to his advantage. Who could blame him when you looked like that.

“I’ll give you two minutes to get cleaned, Levinson. Time starts now,” he smirks as he skates away from you, and you exhale a long breath. There would be no keeping the relationship secret when the entire team knows you are willing to drop to your knees for Ari.

You head towards the locker room, watching as players start heading out one after the other. It would be Jake that is last. You give him a cheesy grin, but he stops you. “I know what you’re doing,” no, he didn’t. “Lev can handle himself, and obviously you can, too. But — you’ve involved the rest of us in your affair.”

You nod your head, and take a step towards the locker room. “He’s more sensitive than you realize,” liar. “This place is his sanctuary. Just agreeing to fuck you here — it’s not just sex, you see?”

“What?” Of course it was just sex. It was amazing and fun sex. But there is absolutely nothing more than sex here.

“He’s had a thing for you for a while,” Jake shrugs as he starts to walk away. Ari didn’t even know you. “It was just a crush, but he did some instagram stalking. And he saw something in you. It’s not just sex, okay?”

“Okay,” you timidly answer. Jake’s face grimaces, but you don’t know what else to say. He’s not supposed to be the serious one here.

“Don’t act weird when your dad comes back. That’s all I’m asking. Keep doing what you’re doing. That’s all. He’s a good man. A giant big man that is super soft underneath his ultra thick exterior,” your mouth turns into an ‘oh’ as you finally understand. You nod your head. You could tell right away that Ari isn’t all that he portrays. You didn’t want to stop doing what you’re doing. Just didn’t want it so open. Too late now.

“Protect him, because he’ll protect you,” he says before finally walking away.

You gather up some courage to walk into the locker room, and spot Ari sitting down. Leaning over with his forearms resting on his thighs, looking like the most delectable meal you’d ever seen, and wrapped in only a towel. You turn around to lock the door, and remain with your back to him as you kick off your shoes, and shimmy out of your leggings.

Giving him the view of seeing the the cheeks of your ass. He sucks in a hard breath at the show you’re putting on display. His body is begging him to just have his way with you, but his head is wanting you to lead today. He’s tired physically. He needs you to.

Making your way over to Ari, you wait for him to sit up. Ari’s beefy hand grips his cock, and you crawl into his lap. Hissing as his thick girth pierces your body. And you don’t stop your descent until he’s fully sheathed. You take a few deep breaths, letting your body adjust to his size. You’ll never tired of this feeling.

“You look beautiful trying not to wince.”

“That does not sound like I look beautiful.”

”When you’re trying not to wince because I’m almost too big for this pretty little pussy, yeah, it’s beautiful,” you lift your body up slightly, but Ari pulls you back down. “Stay with me for a while.”

“You’ve got me,” you reassure him. Two more days until the big game, and Ari’s strong front is faltering. Leaning forward, you wrap your arms around the big man, and pet over his bare back. Moving to sit up, only to remove your top, and give him the satisfaction of skin on skin. Holding him again.

Big giant man, but loves soft sweet touches.

He never lets anyone see this side of him. Worried that he won’t be the captain that he needs to be. Worried he’ll let his team down. Arrogant to a fault, until he’s seated inside you, and then he is the softest man you’ve ever met. You like the two sides of him. And love that he fells comfortable enough to give you this side of him. That this part is only reserved for you.

You paint his freckled shoulders with your lips. Relaxing and easing him into a vulnerable state before rolling your hips. Taking him balls deep. He moans in satisfaction. The most beautiful sound that you could think of happens when his tip kisses your cervix. A pleasured pain of him bottoming out.

Your upper body worships him so softly, but your lower body is taking him for all he’s worth. He bucks up, his hips meeting your own in a sinful dance. No words are exchanged as you give freely, and he takes greedily. Allowing you enough control, while also spearing up into you with so much need and ferocity that you go brainless.

Ari.

That is the only thing in your head. The only thing that truly matters. In this moment.

The two of you work because you each get what you need from the other. A safe place to land when you need it. No judgement when you let your vulnerable sides out. And still such a need for the other's body. The need to be all in. And you mean all. A few short weeks, and you want more. You crave more.

Truth be told, it was never just sex even for you. It’s comfort. And this big burly man is the most comfortable man.

His hands grip to the bench, and he stabs into your body so fiercely that you lean up off his shoulders. “You’ll be at the game, right?” You give him a head nod in response, and grip to his shoulders. Using his body as reigns as you hold on for the ride of your life. Planting your feet firmly before you fuck him. If he wants it hard, he’ll get it.

Raising up of him, and slamming yourself down over him again and again. Each time with more force and ferocity. Each time letting him go deeper. Letting him take more of you because you don’t care anymore. You know that he could take all of you, and he would protect it.

“Do I get a kiss after the game?”

“Make it official?” You whimper. Your body starts to seize and it’s not just because of the impending orgasm. It’s the fact that he is ready for the world to know. Ready for you to admit what you already knew. You are a goner.

“Yes,” he pants. Grabbing onto your hips, and using them to center himself. His body tightens up, and he tries to fight off the inevitable. Whether it’s his release, or your refusal to give him what he wants. You. No hiding. Official.

“So…we’re…”

“I’d like to think that we are,” he soothes. His mouth attaches to your neck, and he kisses your most tender area. Nipping and suckling onto body like it gives him life. Pleasure builds up in your core, and you don’t know if you can hold on much longer. Or deny anything anymore.

“Say it,” if he wants you, let him tell you. If he wants to be public, he better be honest with you first.

“Be mine. Only mine. And I’m only yours.”

“Wrong answer,” you grit your teeth. Getting pissed off at him not wanting to make that final fall.

“Being my girlfriend sounds childish,” you cock up one of your eyebrows. That is definitely the wrong answer. You can’t fight off your pleasure anymore. There’s too much pressure, and you careen off course. Letting your body soak up the euphoria that only he’s been able to give you. But you can’t stop. You want him to feel the same way you do.

Punishing yourself with pleasure you bounce on top of him. Mewling out his name, and wanting to curse him for his stubbornness. Asshole. If he wants you. He can do it the right way. He can say it. Scream it. You didn’t care. Just admit it.

“Oh god,” he screams, and clenches onto the bench harder. “You’re so fucking amazing,” his voice is so hard as he fights off his own pleasure. “So fucking perfect,” he repeats, and allows himself the release that you are aching for.

Moaning as ropes of his warm cum paint the inside of your body. The feeling of him so deep inside of you makes you come again. Your walls clench down around him. Holding him in place as you pulse around him. You black out from pleasure. Eyes lulling in the back of your head, speaking in tongue and you look up at the ceiling. It’s just too much. He’s too much. Nothing can ever feel like that.

“I want you to be my girlfriend,” he whispers into your ear as you come down from the best high in life. “I want the world to know who you belong to, and who I belong to,” his nose pets along your jaw. “Please?”

“Yes,” you whisper. You collapse onto his giant body. Arms going limp as they wrap around him. “I always feel my best when I’m with you.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @rnurse-kole @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @kmm-fluv @donutloverxo @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bambamwolf87

@rogersbarber @distractingbeth @musingsfromthemitten @theinheriteddutchess @buckybarnesisdaddy

[camilaswife]

The Cut That Always Bleeds

Natalie scatorccio x reader yellowjackets x reader jackie taylor x reader (if you squintttttt)

Words: 4.1k

Warnings!: angst, cursing, death, mentions of suicide, mentions of death, mentions of getting high (??).

four months.

The team had been in the wilderness for four months.

Everything felt so... empty.

Everyone was already sick and tired of the routine in this place: wake up, hunt, do your chores, sleep, and repeat.

Even Natalie who you always had known wanted to be anywhere but her home wanted rescue to finally find them.

But you? You didn't want to go back home, you didn't want to stay in the wilderness.

All you wished for at this point was a peaceful death.

After Laura Lee passed tragically all you wanted was to go out of this life just like her. You fantasized about it, really, you fantasized how you wanted to go out, maybe you would die in a heroic act just like your older sister, maybe you would die while hunting, but the animal could be used as a feast for the team.

Or maybe you would be the feast.

Of course you tried to not think about it. You tried really hard, but it always came back, in the back of your mind you always had that thought of you dying in some way out here.

Your original plan the night that Laura Lee died of running away and going to the same place she passed and self-exiting the day after, that plan was quickly demolished when the team suggested having a ‘doomcoming’ in honor of the fact that they would probably all be dead in weeks which you tried to interject by saying that it might be a stupid idea which was quickly brushed off by the team.

You had to hold on a little longer.

So here you were, sitting on the floor of the cabin, putting on some of your makeup that survived the plane crash, getting ready for what would be the worst night in your life so far.

“Cute dress.” You heard from behind you.

You stopped and closed the lipgloss you were putting on to turn around, seeing jackie.

“Thanks, you look pretty good too” you said looking at her green floral dress, jackie always looked so… perfect. Even in this situation, she looked great. And sure, you didn't look half bad considering the place you were in, maybe in other people's eyes you just looked like a glam obsessed girl with her floral mini dress and her best attempt at doing light makeup with what you had. But you always went about life with the motto, “if you don't feel good, you don't look good.” And well, right now you don't necessarily feel good to say the least.

“You need help with your makeup?” She asked nicely, you nodded as she sat down in front of you picking up some of your pink blush and a brush. maybe you needed this, maybe you just needed to feel like a normal teenage girl with her best friends to make yourself distracted.

Maybe.

“Shaunas fucking jeff.” Jackie blurted out while doing your makeup.

Well that's not what you expected today.

“What? Jackie, I'm so sorry” was all you could say. I mean, in no world would you think that Shauna, Jackie's best friend out of all people, would do something like that. It seemed so… unlike her.

Jackie shrugged as if none of it bothered her, you and Jackie were alike in that sense, you were both good at putting up a facade even when everything was going to shit.

“It's fine, it's not like that's the worst thing going on right now anyway.” She said so carelessly even though you saw her saddened expression. You put a hand on her shoulder, making her stop what she was doing.

“You know I'm here if you need anything, right jax?” you told her, even though you weren't shauna, you still hoped that she knew that she had someone in this place. She nodded and resumed doing your makeup.

“You know, I appreciate you being my friend but, remember that you can't always ignore the fact that you have shit to deal with too, you lost your sister, you also deserve to have someone to talk to.” She was right, and you knew it, would you listen? Probably not. But it still felt nice to have someone remind you of that.

She finished your makeup with a gloss and put everything away, you looked in the mirror that was in your makeup bag, it was only slightly cracked at the edges so you could still see well enough. You looked nice, you looked pretty, you even looked sane, which wasn't exactly what you would call yourself right now but at least you didn't look crazy.

Jackie had left to do something that you didn't hear, too lost in your thoughts to pay attention. You stayed in the same spot for a while, trying to think about anything besides your sister.

You glanced outside and saw Natalie, she was in a cheetah print dress (which you bought for her a couple months ago) with her usual combat boots and fishnets.

God she looked beautiful.

You had to consistently remind yourself that she was with Travis, even though each time you looked at her that thought vanished from your head.

You stood up and walked outside, heading straight for Natalie. You approached her and tapped on her shoulder.

“Hey pretty lady. You look good” you saw her smile and instantly mirrored it back.

“Pretty lady? God, what are you, a frat dude? Thanks, you look really pretty too.” She said with a breathy chuckle. Her gaze roamed over your outfit then to your face, taking your appearance in, she didn't miss how your cheeks slightly flushed pink.

“Thanks nat, I tried my best. Well, actually, Jackie did her best, she did my makeup for me.” You said casually, thinking nothing of it.

Nat tilted her head and glanced at Travis who was behind you staring intensely at Natalie which you didn't notice because you were too focused on not so sneakily checking her out.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” She asked suddenly.“What's up?” You asked back.

“Well since this entire doomcoming thing is technically just wilderness homecoming, do you wanna be my date?” you let out a chuckle at that, the first genuine laugh you let out in four months.

“Well I didn't get the memo that dates were a thing at a doomcoming. But yeah, I'll be your date” it sounded like a good idea, until you realized she was still with travis.

“Wait, did Travis not ask you? Because God knows I wouldn't wanna compete with that guy.” You tried to joke at the end even though you were being serious. Her expression got serious as she glanced at Travis once more, this time you followed her gaze and looked at him too.

“We, um… we aren't together anymore” she said looking down at her boots, clearly affected by it. Just by looking at her made you want to walk over to Travis and tell him what he deserved even though he was your friend.

“Oh, I'm really sorry nat, I didn't know.” You said trying to not say anything that would make her sadder or mad. She just nodded and looked back at you.

“So, I'll see you at doomcoming then?” You knew her changing the subject meant she didn't wanna speak about it, so you went with it.

“Right, I'll see you then, pretty lady.” you joked trying to lighten the mood. She let out a laugh and nodded.

“Right, I'll see you then.” you walked away sneakily shooting a glance at Travis, slightly angry at him even though you didn't know why him and Natalie broke up.

A couple hours later, everyone gathered at a makeshift room in the woods for doomcoming. You and Natalie hand in hand slightly farther away from everyone as they watch Tai and Van share a kiss, finally not hiding their love for each other.

God how you wished you could do the same with natalie- wait, no. She doesn't see you as more than her best friend.

Right?

The girls passed around some type of pasty soup made out of whatever they had for food, and some crushed berries to mimic booze. You took one glance at the soup and grimaced, you took a couple sips of the soup and immediately put it down.

“God, this tastes like shit.” You told Natalie while grimacing, she chuckled and was about to say something before Lottie spoke up, saying that we needed a moment of silence for Laura Lee. Your heart ached, remembering what happened, the plane, the smoke, the explosion, the way you had fallen on your knees sobbing while Natalie tried to soothe you, it was one of the worst days of your life.

“To Laura lee” everyone said in sync, lottie glanced at you with a small smile. You knew she went through the same as you, Laura Lee was Lotties best friend, so you understood what she was going through right now.

After a while Natalie had moved to somewhere else that you didn't see, so you walked over next to coach Ben and drank the liquid in your cup. At some point some of the girls started slow dancing, you thought to ask Natalie to dance as well until you realized that she was too busy looking at Jackie and Travis dancing together.

Right, she still loves travis, stop thinking otherwise.

You sighed and immediately pushed that idea to the back of your mind, distracting yourself by listening to what Misty was saying to coach, something about the dance or something.

Poor girl, she was so sweet but God was she clueless, was it not obvious that coach ben wasn't into her?

After coach Ben declined her offer, a few moments passed before nat came up to you two, saying that she had real booze with her, you heard the word booze and your ears perked up, mentally thanking nat because God knows that you need a real drink.

You and coach went with her to this tree and all of you sat down.You and coach drank most of the booze because Natalie said she didn't want it, better for you, you needed this after everything that happened. A while passed and you all started feeling funny, you lifted your hand and moved it around, realizing everything looked weird.

Goddammit misty.

You usually didn't do good when you were high or drunk, always ending up in some mental breakdown, so you stayed silent, trying to ground yourself and stay as calm as possible. Half of the conversation Natalie and coach Ben had you didn't hear because of how high you were. You started thinking frantically about all that's happened in these four months.

Why hasn't rescue come? I lost my sister. Winter is coming soon. I just wanted to go to nationals. The girl I love doesnt feel the same. I'm in love with natalie.

Wait, what?

Oh my god.

I'm in love with natalie.

You looked to your left and saw Natalie in the same lying position as you looking up at the sky, your eyes roamed over her dress, to her chest, to her face. Admiring every little feature on her.

Your actions happened before your mind could register it.

You slightly sat up and leaned in to kiss her, your hands going to her hair and hers going to your hips. She didn't question what you were doing partially because you both were high and partially because you two had been here multiple times before, messy kisses with your fingers tangling in her platinum hair while she rubbed soft circles on your hips.

You two had never established what you were back home, whether it was just occasional sex or it was best friends with benefits you didn't know, but it felt right.

The first night you kissed her was in your room while some random nirvana record you had gotten because of her played in the background, just like right now, you did it impulsively.

You were flipping through a random magazine you'd bought weeks prior while she hummed to the record while laying down, hand propped up on her head watching you. You'd closed the magazine and thrown it somewhere random on your bed, looking up at her through your lashes.

“Hi.” you said softly. “Hi” she mirrored your words glancing down at your glossy lips. You slowly leaned up to her as if you guys always did this, she met you halfway, slightly brushing against your lips as if she was testing the waters, as if she was waiting for you to pull back and never speak to her again. But you didn't, you leaned further, hand shooting up to her hair, so she did the same, deepening the kiss and putting her free hand on your hip, pulling you in closer.

She positioned herself so that she was on top of you, your legs going on either side of her hips with one hand still in her hair and the other unbuttoning your blouse. She slightly pulled back, breathless and half lidded eyes.

“Wait, are you sure?” She asked, she knew you were a virgin so she wanted- no, needed to make sure that you wanted this as much as her.

You nodded and pulled off your shirt, revealing your lacy white bra. You pulled her back into the kiss, pulling her as close as possible as if she would fade away.

And here you were in the middle of nowhere in the exact same position as the first time you and Natalie had kissed, your hands in her hair and hers on your hips just like that night. Except this time you knew, you knew that you were in love with her, you knew that this wasn't a passing thing.

You pulled back and laid back down, breath uneven, lipstick slightly smudged from the kiss.

You glanced at coach Ben and just said a quiet “sorry” even though he didn't even process what was going on so he just waved it off.

It was already getting dark as the feeling of the high wore off, thank god. You sat up, wrapping your arms around your legs, lost in thought, again.You snapped out of it once you saw Natalie stand up, dusting her dress off. Your brows furrowed

“what are you doing?” You asked confused.

“To go find Travis” was all she said. You scoffed and nodded.

Fucking great.

“i- um, I'll go with you, it's not safe to go alone.” You said making excuses to go with her.

Not even an hour after we kissed?

She nodded and just said “sure”. So you followed her to go find her beloved little travis.

You followed after her quietly since you didn't even want to talk about what happened, you were too caught up in your thoughts until you heard someone screaming for help that sounded like…Jackie?

You and Natalie ran into the cabin hearing Jackie's screams from the closet, Natalie opened it revealing a startled jackie. Once she saw that it was Natalie that opened the door she had a guilty look on her face for some reason and ran out of the cabin.

Naturally you followed her to wherever she was going, Natalie right behind you two.

You all stopped once you saw everyone in the same place, Lottie with a weird headpiece that had antlers on it, and Shauna with a knife to travis’ throat.

Holy shit she had a knife to his throat.

Nat ran up to Shauna and pushed Shauna off of Travis making the knife in Shauna's hand fly out.

“Nat the knife!” Jackie yelled. You went over and untied travis as natalie yelled at lottie while she maniacally laughed like a fucking psychopath.

God, what in the actual fuck was going on?

Natalie went over to Travis and asked him if he was okay before he replied with a dry “im fine” and ran away.

You looked around at the girls, specifically Shauna, seeing her apologetic face towards Jackie, mumbling some apology for what she did. You scoffed and left to go back to the cabin, having enough shit happen for the day, you just wanted sleep at this point.

God how you wished Laura Lee was here, to give you advice, to comfort you. Even though you didn't necessarily believe in all her religious shit you still appreciated anytime she would tell you a small piece of advice, or when you had hard times, you had her to talk to, always.

Everyone was sitting by the fireplace about to eat a bear that lottie had killed, lottie was saying one of her bullshit prayers so you repeated it carelessly just wanting this to be over.

“You didn't say it.” Misty whispered to Jackie who was right next to you.

“Jackie didn't say it.” She told everyone as if saying that would make everyone thank her for pointing it out.

Misty shut the fuck up.” You said, you were already pissed enough about last night, and if it weren't for her stupid fucking shrooms none of this would've happened.

“No, I did not thank the dirt for bringing us a brain dead bear.” She said, obviously annoyed.

“What is even happening right now? The fuck is wrong with you all?” She wasn't wrong, everyone was acting like nothing happened last night, like they didn't almost kill travis.

“It's fine you guys she doesn't have to-”

“Oh, shut up, tai. Don’t pretend like you weren't a part of it. What, we're just not gonna talk about it? We just howl at the moon now and have fucking orgies? And somehow I'm the one who did something wrong?” She said, Everyone except you looked at her like she was saying something wrong.

“Jackie calm down.” Shauna said as if she was wrong.

“Don't tell me to calm down! What were you gonna do to Travis last night, shauna?” She crossed her arms and tilted her head.

“Answer me!” Her voice wavered slightly.

“I don't know. I don't remember.” Shauna said.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes but she was too caught up with Jackie to notice.

“Bullshit.” Jackie simply said.

“You had a knife to his throat. If we hadn't come, you would've killed him-”

“Just shut up! None of this would've happened if it wasn't for you. if you hadn't-”

“Hadn't what? Huh? Stolen him? Wow. The irony.” Jackie taunted her.

“Shauna was fucking jeff.” You bit your lip remembering what Jackie had told you yesterday.

“Yeah, thats who's responsible for her little bundle of joy"

��It was you. You read my journal”

“How could you? You were my best friend. Y-you dont even like him-” Jackie said, her voice cracking.

“And how would you know? You're so obsessed with yourself, i'm surprised you're aware other people even exist”

“Shauna! Just fuck off-” you told her, trying to make her stop.

“Shut up!” she yelled back at you.

“You know you never even asked me if I wanted to go to Rutgers? You just assumed I'd go wherever you wanted. You tell me what to wear, what to do, who to hook up with. I don't even like soccer! But you just get everything you want. All the time like it's nothing. And the rest of us, we're just extras in the movie of your fսcking life.”

“Oh my God, you're such a cliché. Oh, is the, is the sad little sidekick mad? Did I force you to live in my shadow, Shauna? It must be hard being this jealous all the time. What? You're so fսcking jealous of me, you can barely breathe.”

“Are you quoting Beaches at me right now?”

“What? No.”

“I'm not jealous of you, Jackie. I feel sorry for you. Because you're weak. And I think that deep down, you know it. I'm sure everyone back home is so fսcking sad to be losing their perfect little princess, but they'll never know how tragic and boring and insecure you really are. Or how high school was the best your life was ever gonna get.”

“fսck you. That's it. You know what? That's it. That's it. Get... get out. Go on, get out!”

“No."

“I can't be around you, I... I can't even fսcking look at you right now.”

“Well, that sounds like your problem. So maybe you should leave.”

“Maybe you'd be better off, since we're all so crazy.”

“Mari, for the love of God, shut up” you told her, right now wasn't the exact moment to encourage Jackie to leave.

“Okay, everybody just stop. Nobody is going outside.”

“Stay out of it, Coach.”

of fucking course lottie had to say something.

“You know what? Fine.”

“Jackie, come on. Don't go outside.”

“Don't pretend like this isn't what you wanted the entire fսcking time. I don't even know who you are anymore.”

“Or maybe you never did.”

Jackie slammed the door as she left the cabin.

You were about to go and follow her to tell her to come back in but you decided otherwise, thinking that Shauna would apologize and she would come back in.

The next morning you woke up with the sound of the cabin door opening, you saw someone running out of it and immediately got up, realizing everyone woke up at the same time as you.

Everyone stood up and ran outside seeing shauna uncovering something in the snow.

Jackie.

You stood next to everyone as you watched shauna desperately call out for Jackie, hoping she wasn't gone, but she was.

Jackie froze to death overnight.

Your jaw dropped and your eyes got teary, why did this have to happen? Why didn't Shauna bring her in? Why the fuck were teenage girl going through all of this?

You couldn't stand watching this anymore so you grabbed your coat from inside and started walking away, nat stopped you by putting her hand on your shoulder.

“Where are you going?” She asked worriedly.

“Fuck off.” Was all you said before practically running away. You didn't want to be mean but it just came out, you needed to be alone, you couldn't handle this anymore.

So you ran, you ran as far as you could without looking back. You ran until your legs gave out and your chest felt like it was sinking in on itself making you fall to your knees and hands, feeling the freezing snow under your hands you tried your best to breathe evenly while you quickly failed at.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and quickly turned around pushing whoever it was. You looked at the person and saw misty on the ground trying to stand up.

“S-sorry, I just followed you, I thought you might need some help since I saw you run away-"

“Just fuck off misty! For fucks sake none of this would've happened if it weren't for you!” Misty's eyes widened when you yelled at her.

“If it weren't for you stupid fucking shrooms none of this would've happened! Travis wouldn't have gotten almost murdered! Jackie wouldn't have died! This is all your fucking fault!” Tears threatened to spill over your eyes but you weren't gonna let misty out of all people see you cry so you wiped at them and kept yelling.

“Fuck you misty! I cant fucking stand you so just go away!” She nodded and ran away from you. You leaned back on a random tree and looked up at the sky, letting your sobs out now that she was finally gone.

“God Laura Lee, why did you leave me here? Why couldn't I die with you?” You said in-between sobs.

You got on your knees and looked up at the sky again, putting your hands together and sighing before you did the thing Laura Lee always taught you to do even if you didn't want to.

Pray.

“Dear heavenly father, please take me with her, please, I just- i cant fucking do this anymore… I can't. If you're not gonna save us just kill me, I don't want to live this life of pain and suffering anymore… If you love me so much like everyone says just please- help me with what I ask. If you love us so fucking much you wouldn't have put us in this situation. So for fucks sake just- just kill me, let me die in peace… amen.”

you did a cross motion on your upper body and let every cry, every tear that you had been holding back out.

Nothing will ever get easier out here.

first swan fic !!!

I hope you all enjoyed it, it's very angsty but I thought it would be fitting for her first fic, (which is why it focuses both on her & nat and also just on the situation they were all in) more swan x nat fics coming soon !!

@emmynemm @daisyjonesgf @cr3stawrites I hope you enjoy😌

(lace dividers by @cursed-carmine)

[lendeah]

No, my love. I'm not jealous of the walking encyclopedia.

Summary: Astarion is very much not jealous of Gale being your magic teacher. And he is definitely not going to teach him a lesson. or Astarion gets jealous of Gale teaching you magic and decides to teach him his own lesson.

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader.

Word Count: 4.1k

Tags: Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Exhibitionism, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Possessive Sex, Vaginal Sex, Creampie , Public Sex, Public Nudity, Forest Sex, idk its a lot, Happy Ending, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings.

WARNING: +18, minors DNI

[AO3 Link]

You would've thought Astarion wasn't one to be jealous. He was always so nonchalant when it came to sharing you with others, or watching you giving affection to the rest of the group. So tranquil and chill. And you liked that! You loathed controlling behavior on your partners, as it should be. But over time, you noticed small details that betrayed his true feelings.

Despite his calm exterior, he would bite your neck harder after having drinks with Karlach, leaving marks for days. Or sometimes, if Shadowheart got too close for comfort, the vampire would fuck you so hard that night you were barely able to move the next day. Laughing at Wylls jokes? He would eat you out for hours on end until you were pleading for him to stop.

But it wasn't just during sex that he showed hints of jealousy. One day, while sitting at the campfire, Gale brushed his hand against your arm playfully as he told a story. You didn't think much of it until Astarion's hand casually slid over your hip and pulled you closer to him, silently claiming you as his own. As his fingers gripped your waist, he leaned in and planted soft kisses on your neck, causing you to blush at the unexpected display of affection. This pattern persisted for days, and you couldn't help but notice that whenever someone got too close or flirted with you, Astarion would subtly place an arm around your shoulders or play with your hair. It was like some sort of game to him, though he would never admit it to you.

The worst came when Gale offered to teach you to do magic. You were surprised by how easily you seemed to pick up the magical arts. Gale was also an excellent teacher, patient and encouraging. It was exhilarating every time you successfully cast a spell or even conjured a small flame in your hand. As you continued to learn and practice magic with Gale, you would excitedly retell your experiences to Astarion. You loved every moment of it and couldn't contain your enthusiasm. And even though he loved teasing and taunting you about your newly acquired magical abilities, he was also impressed by it.

"You truly are a surprising little thing," he would say with a genuine smile as he watched you practice spells.

But soon enough, you noticed that every time you brought it up, he would go harder during the night, making sure you were moaning his name loud enough to wake everyone in camp. After one particularly intense session, you were lying next to him in his bedroll, lightly tracing your fingers over the bite marks on his neck

"Are you okay?" you questioned softly.

Astarion's hand stilled on your back as he looked at you.

"Why do you ask?" he replied, his voice guarded.

"I just... you have been behaving a bit weird lately when I talk about my lessons with Gale."

He just scoffed "I simply find it amusing to think about you spending so much time with Gale of all people; his constant rambling must be driving you to madness."

You raised an eyebrow at his response, not buying it for a second. "Come on, Astarion. I know you better than that. What's really bothering you? Are you jealous?"

He looked at you shocked for a second, but then just laughed. "Haha! No, my love. I'm not jealous of the walking encyclopedia."

You couldn't help but laugh at Astarion's response. "Walking encyclopedia? That's a bit harsh, don't you think?"

Astarion just rolled his eyes and shrugged. "He's got as much magic expertise as he has a knack for being utterly irritating."

You just chuckled and decided to overlook it for the time being.

A few days later you were in the middle of a class with Gale laughing together about a miscast spell you couldn't seem to grasp. The wizard came up from behind and placed his hands on your waist to assist with your movements. You were so focused on the task at hand that neither of you noticed Astarion's arrival until he loudly cleared his throat, causing you both to startle.

"Having fun without me, I see," Astarion said with a smirk as he leaned against the nearby tree, arms crossed over his chest.

Gale responded with a nonchalant roll of his eyes to Astarion's usual snide remark, but you couldn't help feeling annoyed, already knowing where this conversation was headed.

"We were just practicing," you said curtly.

"Is that right?" he drawled with a smirk. He sauntered towards you, his fiery gaze assessing every inch of your being."Well, I apologize for interrupting your lesson, my love, but I do require your assistance. It's a matter of urgency, you see."

"Right now? Can't it wait?" you interjected, wanting to get back to your lesson with Gale.

"Is there anything amiss? Do you require our assistance?" Gale asked, his hand still grabbing your waist. Astarion's gaze locked on the hand, his eyes reflecting something almost primal.

"Nothing that should concern you," Astarion snapped, eyes fixed on Gale."This is an important matter I need to discuss with her. Alone."

You could feel Gale tense up beside you, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly. Sensing the tension between the two men, you quickly stepped out of Gale's grasp.

"Fine," you said with a sigh before turning to Gale. "I'll catch up with you later for our lesson."

Gale just nodded in understanding and gave you a small smile. Astarion didn't even wait for you to follow before walking in the direction of the woods. You rolled your eyes at his childish behavior before catching up to him. He effortlessly navigated through the dense forest, leading you to a clearing not far from Gale's tent with his elegant and agile footsteps.

"What did you need to discuss?" you asked, trying to sound calm.

Astarion's intense gaze snapped back to you, and with swift strides, he closed the distance between you. Without warning, he pulled you into a sudden and passionate kiss that nearly knocked you off balance. The taste of his cool lips sent electricity coursing through your body, igniting every nerve ending like a blazing fire.

"W-wh-" you tried to mumble, but Astarion's kiss was almost suffocating, his hands gripping your waist tightly and pulling you closer to him. Finally, you were able to break free from his grasp and take a step back, taking in his disheveled appearance, "By the Nine Hells Astarion, what is wrong with you?!"

Astarion smirked, his eyes glinting with a mixture of lust and mischief. "Gale was getting too chummy with you, darling. And we can't have anyone stealing my spotlight. He's a ticking time bomb, after all," he murmured, his voice low and seductive.

You rolled your eyes and swatted at him, trying to hide your growing frustration. "Don't give me that, you know as well as I do he is perfectly fine. Just admit it, you are jealous!"

Astarion's smirk fell completely now, his eyes darkening with anger. "You have no idea what you're talking about," he spat, taking a step back from you.

"Oh please, Astarion. You don't have to pretend with me. I can see right through you. The casual touches, the nights you go harder, the biting... All this nonchalant act is getting out of hand!" you snapped back at him, your frustration now bubbling over.

A flicker of emotion crossed Astarion's face, revealing a petulant anger that made him look almost childish. "I'm not envious," he insisted, his voice dripping with frustration. "It's just...he's so aggravating! Always touching you and trying to make you laugh."

"He is teaching me, Astarion. That's what teachers do!" you exclaimed, stepping closer to him.

But Astarion didn't relent. "You may be oblivious, my dear, but I see the way he looks at you," he muttered, "Whether you're fighting or casting spells, his eyes are always on you. It's quite maddening, really."

A shiver ran down your spine at Astarion's words and you couldn't help but feel a little confused. "You are imagining things," you whispered.

Astarion's gaze intensified as he leaned closer to you, his lips brushing yours. "Am I?" he purred, "Did you not see the way he was holding onto you when I walked in?"

You felt yourself blushing under his intense stare. "That's just how he is, Astarion. He's a naturally affectionate person," you tried to explain.

He chuckled. "A naturally affectionate person, you say? And yet...it seems I've never received such affections from him," he said, his gaze trailing over to where your tutor stood behind the trees. He turned back to you with a sly grin, his hand snaking around your waist. "Maybe it's about time we teach him a lesson," he whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes and before you knew it, Astarion had pushed you back against a nearby tree, his lips claiming yours in a heated kiss. Your thoughts faded away as you naturally wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. Astarion’s grip drew you in, pulling you flush against him while his lips devoured yours. You were swept away by the sensation of his cold hands sliding under your shirt and along your back. Instinctively, your fingers tangled in his ivory hair, pulling at the curls and causing a low rumble to escape from his mouth.

But just as quickly as it began, Astarion pulled away with a satisfied smirk on his face.

"Oh darling," he purred in your ear, "what would your dear tutor say if he saw you now?"

Your face flushed hotly, a new wave of embarrassment washing over you.

"Astarion," you warned weakly, trying to escape his grasp.

But his hold only tightened, the arm around your waist bringing you flush against him once again. "Oh darling," he murmured, his voice low and tinged with amusement, his breath fanning your ear, sending jolts of electricity down your spine. "I'm just getting started."

Heart pounding in your chest, you willed yourself to meet his gaze. His crimson eyes bore through yours and despite everything that was happening, you felt a small flutter in your stomach. "You're impossible," you said finally, trying to sound stern but only succeeding in letting out a breathy sigh.

Astarion's lips curved into a wicked smile at your words. He leaned in close so you could feel the coolness of his breath on your skin and whispered, "Only for you."

Any further arguments were lost as he captured your lips once more with his own. The world around seemed to blur as you were consumed by the feeling of Astarion’s lips moving over yours. You could feel yourself melting into his touch, all thoughts of your tutor and any consequences forgotten.

Astarion's hand, which had been resting on your hip, began to glide down the length of your body until it reached between your legs. You couldn't help but let out a gasp at the unexpected touch, but Astarion only pressed himself closer to you, causing you to feel his hardness pressing against you. His hand continued to move teasingly, his fingers lightly pressing along the fabric of your trousers, causing small shivers to run through your body. You could feel yourself already dripping in anticipation, wondering if he could feel it through the fabric. The other hand that was now resting on your ass moved upwards, slowly unbuttoning your shirt. Your breath caught in anticipation as you felt the cool air hit your hot skin as Astarion opened your shirt fully. Astarion's hungry eyes roamed over your exposed chest, taking in every inch of your skin as his mouth descended on one of your nipples. He suckled and nipped at it gently with his fangs, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You moaned softly and arched your back, fingers buried in his hair, pulling him closer as you lost yourself in the intense pleasure. Astarion's attention shifted to your other nipple, leaving a trail of wet kisses between them. You let out a small whimper as Astarion's hand finally slipped inside your trousers, his fingers exploring your wet folds.

Astarion's lips left your nipple and traveled upwards to capture your mouth once more, his tongue tangling with yours in a heated dance. As his fingers began to circle your clit, you couldn't help but moan loudly into his mouth.

He chuckled against your lips before breaking the kiss and whispering huskily in your ear, "You're so wet for me already."

At that your breath hitched, eyes traveling to the place where you could barely see the camp, watching as Gale read his book in the cushions of his tent. If he were to look in your direction, he would see everything that was taking place.

Astarion's fingers expertly explored your cunt, teasing and stroking your clit repeatedly. His lips never left your skin, trailing kisses down your neck and collarbone as his hand continued its movements between your legs. He pulled back slightly, looking down at you with a heated glare, "Well, well, well. Look at you, dear. All hot and bothered."

You couldn't help but blush at his words, feeling slightly embarrassed by your own actions. Just then, your thoughts were interrupted by a loud snort coming from Gale's tent.

"What if he heard us?" you whispered frantically to Astarion.

Astarion shrugged nonchalantly. "Let him hear," he said with a sly smile. "Maybe it'll make him realize what he's missing out on."

You rolled your eyes at his cockiness but couldn't deny the thrill that ran through your body at the thought of being caught by Gale. Then, to your surprise, he suddenly dropped to his knees and began to lower your trousers down to your ankles before pushing them away. Your heart was racing with anticipation as he revealed your wet and throbbing core. His eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight before him.

"Delectable," he muttered, almost to himself, before he took your leg and placed it over his shoulder. Then, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth against your core, using his tongue to explore every inch of you. You moaned at the feeling, gripping the back of his head as he sucked on your nub and licked along your slit. The sensation was overwhelming, causing you to buck your hips against his face. Astarion's hands tightened on your thighs in response, holding you still as he continued his ministrations.

His thumb caressed circles around your swelling clit, a slight chuckle escaping his lips as he felt a surge of wetness spill from you at his touch. He then slowly pushed a finger inside of you, the sudden intrusion making you clench around him and grip his hair tighter.

"Such an exhibitionist you've become," he murmured, voice raspy. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, devilish delight dancing in them at your disheveled state. He added another finger inside of you, thrusting it in and out slowly while his rough thumb focused on your throbbing clit. You threw your head back in pleasure, biting your bottom lip to suppress the loud moans threatening to escape.

Suddenly, you heard Gale's voice call out from behind the trees, "Is everything alright over there?"

Astarion paused at the sound of his voice but didn't break away from you completely. He looked up at you with an amused grin, whispering, "Do we tell him, dear?"

The panic that had momentarily subsided returned full force, all the color drained from your face.

"T-tell him what?" you managed to say, trying to regain your composure as Astarion continued his teasing movements.

"That his lovely apprentice is currently being fingered by a vampire," he said with a mischievous look in his red eyes.

As you were about to retaliate, Astarion's fingers curled inside of you in just the right spot, sending electric shocks of pleasure through your body and cutting off any coherent thought.

You let out a loud moan, despite your efforts to hold back. At this, Gale's voice called out again, sounding closer this time. You tried to protest, but the words were lost in another wave of pleasure as Astarion's mouth latched onto your clit and sucked hard. Your hand flew to your mouth, biting it to prevent more sounds from emanating.

"Oh, no, that won't do dear." He whispered, gripping your wrist to pull it away from your lips.

You looked down at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him to stop and not let Gale discover you in this compromising position.

But Astarion only smirked up at you, his fingers still pumping inside of you as his tongue continued its assault on your clit. He shifted his position slightly, making sure that Gale wouldn't be able to see what was happening unless he came closer.

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building and building until you were practically shaking with it. Astarion must have noticed, as he abruptly halted his actions and withdrew his mouth and hand, leaving you feeling empty and frustrated.

Before you could complain, his mouth was back on yours, swallowing any sounds that threatened to escape as his fingers found their way back inside of you. This time he didn't hold back, thrusting them in and out of you relentlessly while his other hand reached around to pinch and twist your already sore nipple. The sounds were so lewd and wet and loud, it was hard to imagine that Gale wasn't able to hear them.

"By the gods," you moaned in his mouth, breaking the kiss to gasp for air. "I need you. Now."

Astarion chuckled and pulled back to look at you, his red eyes glinting with desire. "You'll have to be more specific, love," he said teasingly, still keeping his fingers inside of you.

You could feel yourself getting more frustrated by the second. You needed him inside of you, filling you up and satisfying this aching need that had been building since he first touched you.

"Just...just fuck me already," you practically growled, finding it hard to form coherent thoughts with the way he was making your body tingle.

Astarion's smirk turned into a full-blown grin as he withdrew his fingers, licking them clean before whispering huskily. "Only if you don't hold back."

You grumbled under your breath as Astarion reached down and unbuttoned his pants, revealing his already rigid and eager member. Your heart races as you reach out, unable to resist the temptation, and wrap your hand around it, stroking lightly. He responds by lifting your leg with ease, wrapping it around his waist as he presses you against the rough bark of a nearby tree, igniting a burning desire within you.

He positioned himself between your legs, teasingly rubbing his hard length against your entrance.

With one swift thrust, he entered you fully, filling you up in all the right ways. You moaned loudly at the feeling of being filled by him, gripping onto his shoulders tightly. He began to move slowly at first, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in. Each time he hit that perfect spot inside of you, you couldn't help but let out another loud moan. You could feel your walls tightening around him.

"Say my name," he groaned, his red eyes locking with yours, "Say my name so he knows."

"A-Astarion!" You cried out, heedless of the echo that bounced back from the surrounding trees. He chuckled darkly against your skin, his hot breath fanning over your dampened neck and sending shivers down to your core.

"That's it, my sweet," he praised. "Let them know who's making you feel this good."

His arrogance was infuriating and intoxicating all at once. Astarion's pace quickened as he chased his release, the sounds of your moans and the slap of skin against skin filling the air. His hands tightened around your thigh and hip, almost painfully so, but the slight discomfort only added to the intense pleasure coursing through you.

The rough bark of the tree was also scratching your back painfully, and you knew that it would leave bruises and scratches from this encounter, but in this moment, all you could focus on was Astarion and the way he was hitting that spot inside you time and time again.

A rustling in the bushes caught your attention for a brief moment, but Astarion's hand grasped your neck and his signature glance brought your focus back to him. You knew what that glance meant; he wanted to claim you fully. Without hesitation, you offered your neck and he wasted no time, sinking his fangs into your skin. The sensation was overwhelming - both painful and pleasurable at the same time. You moaned loudly as he drank from you, and Astarion's thrusts became erratic and desperate. Your hands were tangled in his hair, pulling him closer to you as you moaned his name over and over again.

As he felt himself reaching his peak, he reached down to the space where your bodies joined, and pressed his rough thumb against the sensitive nub there. Your mind spun, your vision blurred, and the world seemed at once both too bright and too dark as you gasped out his name one last time before the intensity of the orgasm took your voice away. Astarion groaned deeply against your neck, his fangs dislodging from your skin. You could feel yourself clenching around him, milking him for all he was worth as he continued to thrust into you until he found his own release.

With one final moan of your name, Astarion climaxed, his body tensing as he spilled himself inside of you. He collapsed against your body, both of you panting heavily as you tried to catch your breath.

Stunned by the whole encounter and paralyzed by exhaustion, you hung limply against Astarion whose arms felt like steel bands around you holding you up against the tree. The rustling in the bushes grew louder now, more insistent but neither of you cared enough to investigate the source.

His gaze flicked down to inspect the puncture marks left behind on your skin and an expression of satisfaction washed over his handsome face. He pressed a soft kiss on the two small wounds before pulling away from you, his body still trembling slightly from the afterglow. As he pulled out, you could both hear and feel the squelching, as the remnants of his seed dripped between your legs. You were left panting and trembling against the tree trunk as Astarion straightened up with a satisfied smirk on his face. You looked up at him in disbelief.

"I can't believe...you did that..." You managed to say between breaths.

Astarion chuckled and leaned in to kiss your forehead before calmly fixing your blouse straight and helping you retrieve your pants, which were thrown in the aftermath. He cleaned your legs and core with his own shirt, and you pointedly ignored his proud grin. He seemed so calm and collected, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened between the two of you.

After you had composed yourself, you spoke firmly to Astarion. "Your jealousy is becoming a real problem," you told him. "This needs to be addressed. I'm not jesting this time."

As he started to speak, his usual defensive tone creeping in, you stepped forward and cup his face in your hands. You could feel the warmth radiating from his skin, evidence of the recent blood he had just consumed. Your thumbs gently traced over his cheeks, trying to convey all the love and understanding you have for him in that simple touch.

"I crave you and only you. These displays are unnecessary to win my affections, for you already have them completely. Astarion, I am yours, wholly and unconditionally."

Astarion's eyes widened in surprise before they softened. He cupped your face in his hands now, mirroring your gesture. "You truly mean that?" he said in a small voice.

You nodded, looking into his eyes without fear or doubt. You have known for a long time.

Astarion's lips curled up into a genuine smile, fangs and everything, before he leaned down to kiss you again. When you finally broke apart from the kiss, Astarion seemed almost sheepish.

"Well, I must admit, I was a tad envious. But who can blame me? You are so beautiful and incredible." He sighed dramatically, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your cheek. "And now look where it's gotten us. My apologies for letting it get the best of me."

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh at his words and embrace him tightly with your arms.

"Don't worry, a small public display isn't too terrible every now and then. But from now on, please let's keep our encounters in the privacy of our tent," you said with a playful wink.

Astarion chuckled and leaned down to kiss your forehead before returning the tight hug.

"I can do that," he said softly. "As long as I have you, I don't need any further exhibitions."

You smiled against his chest, feeling content and happy in his embrace.

"So, you think Gale caught us?"

[hellvst]

OFFSEASON – quinn hughes

featuring ; quinn hughes x fmc (sydney gray)

✮⋆˙ warning & content ; swearing

✮⋆˙ word count ; 4.1k

✮⋆˙ previous chapter – series masterlist – next chapter

a/n ; hey...it's been over a month oops! was in a bit of a writer's block, but i'm here now. i am not abandoning this lol, i have a lot of ideas planned for this fic :D not proofread! happy reading <3

CHAPTER SEVEN

SYDNEY

Note to self: No matter how desperate a coworker asked you to fill in for them on a Saturday, don’t do it. 

I hadn’t planned on working today. The weekends were my days off, but Micah–one of the other instructors at the studio–had texted me this morning, practically begging me to cover for her classes because she had an emergency.

The moment I stepped inside the studio, I was met with a full day of back-to-back sessions that absolutely drained me. 

Although, that was all my fault–I probably should have refused the moment she asked–considering Micah was notorious for her heavy workload. We have been coworkers for a while now and she promised to make it up to me someday, so a part of me didn’t mind it. 

Now, exhausted, I finally made it home. I was quick to drop all my things onto the floor and had barely made it to my living room. My muscles ached, although the quiet hum of my apartment was a welcoming contrast to the loud and constant chatter in the studio.

I caught a moment to breathe–before my thoughts were instantly flooded with the session with Quinn earlier in the week. It was like a loop replaying in my head constantly. I could’ve easily shut them out, but no, it was easier said than done.

After I had embarrassingly fallen on top of him, I tried not to let it get to my head before the next session. But strangely enough, the following Thursday had felt like a regular routine between us. 

He came in as he always did, we stretched, and we talked during the session. A lot.

I had introduced Quinn to a different style of Pilates such as Cadillac Pilates, a bit of a challenge at first since the new equipment–the straps and bars–had intimidated him. 

But he was determined–I’ll give him that–almost stubborn in his refusal to back down from a challenge. To no surprise, by the end of the session, he had managed to hold his own.

I had to admit, seeing his drive to improve was oddly satisfying.

After getting comfortable on my couch and sinking deeper into the cushions, the weight of my eyelids were getting the better of me. Just when I was about to fully shut my eyes, my phone buzzed. A text from Diane.

‘On my way over. #readytogetfuckedup’

I groaned, tilting my head back against the pillows. 

I hadn’t forgotten about Diane’s birthday, but I hoped Diane might. Unlikely, though, she had been talking about it all week. Her birthday had been lingering in the back of my mind all day, but I’d barely had time to process it with training sessions and classes, it became a fleeting thought.

We had unofficial plans–or rather, Diane told me what we were doing later in the night.

Going to the club and getting absolutely fucking wasted. 

A page taken straight from Phoebe’s playbook. Diane and Phoebe lived by the same philosophy of go out and have fun.

It honestly concerned me how similar they were–like Diane was the younger version of Phoebe. If I didn’t know any better, I’d believe that they were related. 

I sighed, staring at the text. 

I wasn’t against clubbing. Not entirely, it wasn’t my scene. But I would be lying if I had said that I hadn’t stepped foot in a nightclub before.

There were several occasions that I had been dragged out of my own will–losing a bet to Diane, celebrating milestones or birthdays, losing more bets to Diane. I was horrible at rock paper scissors.

I wasn’t much of a drinker either, but I never shied away from drinking games or an opportunity to dance when the music was good. And if I was being honest, sometimes Diane and Phoebe were right–it was fun.

Before I could reply to Diane, my phone buzzed again. This time with an incoming video call. Simon.

Why was he calling? 

Then again, I haven’t heard from him in over a week. I promised not to bug him, knowing that he had a lot on his plate with Cassie and the baby. I told him to update me whenever he could, I just wasn’t expecting him to call this late.

“Hey, what’s up?” I answered.

Simon’s face filled the screen, then the camera shifted to show a tiny bundle in his arm. “Look who’s here. Syd, I’d like you to meet your niece.” 

I sat up straight, my eyes going wide. My heart melted immediately. “Oh my God–Simon!” I cooed at the screen, voice softening. “Hi, sweet baby girl. Simon, she’s beautiful.”

The baby stirred slightly but remained asleep, her cute little nose scrunching, her tiny face peaceful as she rested against Simon’s arms, and my chest instantly tightened with warmth. Simon was finally a father. 

“What’s her name?” I asked.

My brother offered a smile before looking at the baby. “Her name is Stella.”

Wait. I paused at the realization. “Stella? As in our grandmother?”

He nodded and smiled down at his daughter. “Funny story actually. Cassie was sleeping when the nurses gave me the birth certificate to fill out, and I was so set on naming my kid after me somehow. But then, I thought of Grandma Stella, and it just felt…right.” 

I let out a small laugh. Of course, he’d name his own daughter while Cassie was asleep. I wasn’t sure if I was more concerned or impressed that Cassie had let that slide. 

But the name was only fitting, perfect even. Our grandmother had been a significant part of our childhood. Despite our parents introducing us to our respective sports on the ice. Grandma Stella was the person who taught both Simon and I how to skate. 

The tears threatened to fall, but I blinked them away just in time. Although, my brother couldn’t miss an opportunity to tease me. “Don’t get all emotional on me now, Syd.”

“Shut up.” I rolled my eyes at him before I let one tear escape. “That’s really beautiful, Simon. But–” I frowned at him when I took note of what he said earlier. “–you filled out the paperwork without consulting Cassie?”

Simon let out a soft chuckle. “Don’t worry. When she woke up and found out, she ended up loving it. It was perfect.”

I smiled, shaking my head at him. “It really is. Grandma would’ve loved that and would’ve loved to meet her.” 

Our grandmother was my absolute world. She was everything you could ask for–sweet, kind, caring–most of all, very supportive of her grandchildren. She couldn’t make it to all of my competitions, or Simon’s games, but she still cheered us on from the sidelines even if she was ill and had already passed years ago.

Simon’s voice broke through my thoughts before I could reminisce. “Sorry I’ve been MIA recently. This past week has been crazy, and I barely touched my phone. But, I should’ve at least texted you.”

“It’s alright,” I said. “I figured you were busy with everything that was going on.”

Simon nodded, gently setting down Stella into her crib. “Mom and Dad are already on a flight out to San Diego.”

“Oh, really? That’s great.” The ‘enthusiastic’ tone in my voice wasn’t necessarily believable, Simon didn’t miss that either.

“Have you talked to them?” He asked, watching my reaction carefully. “Mom was asking about you. I thought you said you already spoke with her.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. I haven’t spoken to our parents much lately. I was so caught up in work and life that I let it slip my mind. But if I were being honest, there was more to it than that.

My relationship with my mom was fine–we still talk every now and then–but with my dad, it was different. Simon was his pride and joy, the son that made him proud and made his dreams come true–making it to the NHL. Meanwhile, we hadn’t been the same since my accident.

I had been his talented figure-skater daughter he was once proud of. Now, I was just his daughter, and that didn’t seem to be enough.

“No, not yet. I’ll call her soon.” I answered back vaguely.

It was enough to let it go by Simon, he knew he was walking around eggshells just by mentioning it the first time. 

He was well aware of our family dynamic over the years, and we had a few conversations about it. Simon had always encouraged me many times to talk to our dad about the problem, and I appreciated that he cared strongly about making amends, but he didn’t understand how hard it was.

I wasn’t ready for that, at least not right now. 

So my brother didn’t push any further. “Alright. Just making sure.” He paused before shifting gears and letting out a deep exhale. “So, why didn’t you tell me that the cross-training program was still happening?”

Shit.

“I didn’t want to bother you. You had more important things going on, and I figured–”

“Figured what?” Simon cut in, his voice slightly sharper now. “That I’d rather hear it from someone else? Because that’s exactly what happened. I had to find out from the guys instead of hearing it from you first. You’re my sister, Syd. And that sucks.”

Guilt rested heavily on my chest, like it was about to crush me. “I’m sorry. I just��didn’t want you to explode or freak out when you heard about it.”

He sighed, knowing I was completely right about that given his reaction. “Well, too late for that. When JT told me, I was about to lose my fucking mind. To the point that I was debating on booking a flight back to Vancouver to give Tocchet hell for continuing the sessions.”

I snorted. It was exactly how I called it–my brother proving me right yet again, he’s always been so dramatic.

“So, how’s it going? Have you been making Hughes work? I sure hope you are.” He said.

“Yeah, you could say that.” I tried to play it off. “But, he’s surviving and doing much better than I expected.”

Simon rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I wanted to hear, Syd. Perhaps ‘no, he’s doing terrible,’ or ‘no, he’s the worst student I’ve had.’”

I shook my head at him. “I would much rather have him cooperating and trying his best, than him not trying at all, Simon. If anything, I think he’s doing better than you would have if you were still here.” 

“Ouch, that one hurt,” he grimaced playfully. “But I am glad he’s not giving you a hard time, because if he was then I would’ve–”

“Simon.”

“What? I’m being serious, Syd. I would rather fly back to Vancouver than let you deal with Hughes alone. Especially when he’s…”

I blinked. “Especially when he’s what?”

What if he found out about the incident at the studio? He definitely knows that I was in Quinn’s car and drove me. What if he found out that a part of me actually liked training with Quinn. Simon was going to kill both of us.

“Especially when he’s such a dick,” Simon said after hesitating for a second. “He’s such a teacher’s pet, so don’t ease up on him just because he’s keeping up. Also, don’t let his pretty face get to you. I haven’t seen him with any girls yet, but how would I know? He and his brothers are popular with them, so probably gets with girls all the time and–”

“Okay, okay. I get it. I’ve heard enough, Si.” I stopped him before he continued to spout out things that probably weren’t true at all, or could be, who knows?

I let out a loose breath out my lungs. Good, he didn’t know about the media incident.

“Remind me again–” he started. “–you still don’t have a thing for hockey guys, correct?”

Now that caught me way off guard by the way I almost choked on air. Where was this coming from?

I narrowed my eyes at him. “No? Why are you even asking–”

“Nothing. Just making sure that Hughes has zero chances with you.”

My body almost leaped out of my couch after hearing those words from my brother’s mouth. The last few times Simon had talked about Quinn, I barely knew him. Now, after spending time with him, I wasn’t sure that was entirely true anymore. 

Quinn wasn’t at all what Simon painted him to be, he was quite the opposite.

“Unless you’ve changed your mind,” Simon added, “because if you did, I swear, I’m going to end him. Seriously-”

“God, Simon.” I groaned, I wasn’t about to talk about my dating life with my brother. “I am not looking to date anyone right now. It’s not a good time.”

“Good, let's keep it that way.” His expression seemed to relax, like a weight lifted off his shoulders. But,  he believed me–I hoped. He nodded but then suddenly frowned. “That still doesn’t explain why that prick left me on read after my texts.”

Texts?

Well, that definitely piqued my interest. “Wait, what texts?”

“Oh, nothing. Forget I said anything.”

“Simon. What. Texts?”

Before he could even answer, a constant knocking sound at my door. I already knew who it was–she was the only one who ever knocked on my door like a drum.

“Who’s that?” Simon’s overprotective instincts kicked in.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s just Diane.” 

I made my way over to the door and sure enough, Diane bursted through it. “Let’s get partying! Wait–” she eyed me up and down. “–why aren’t you ready?”

I glanced down at myself, I was still in my studio clothes, sweaty, no makeup, looked completely burnt out. Definitely not club-ready opposed to Diane’s attire–tight black mini dress, hair that was styled to perfection, and a vibrant red lipstick smeared on her lips. 

“I just got home from work,” I sighed at her. “Do we really have to go?”

“Where are you going?” Simon butts in, his skepticism was practically palpable through the screen. I almost forgot he was still on video call for a second.

Before I could answer, Diane beat me to it, bringing her face to the screen to see Simon. “Hey, Simon. It’s my birthday, so we’re heading to the club. Can you convince your sister to come with me, she seems pissy today…”

“Excuse me,” I gave her a look. “I’m standing right here.” 

Simon let out a chuckle. “You should go. It’s her birthday after all, Syd.”

They were both right. But more surprised with my brother’s instant support. He would be barking at me for even considering going to the club–just like the other time. He practically wouldn’t let me out the door. 

I struggled to find the words, but there was no reason to refuse Diane. I wouldn't miss my friend’s special day just because I was tired or didn’t feel like going–then I would be a shitty friend for that.

“Okay, okay. Give me a few minutes to get dressed.” I caved in.

Diane squealed in my eyes and clapped her hands together excitedly. 

I quickly said my goodbyes to my brother on my phone, and made sure he would give updates to me whenever he could before ending the call. 

I looked over to Diane, a very mischievous expression written across her face. “Oh, we’re going to make you look so hot tonight.”

I rolled my eyes before she dragged me towards my closet, raiding it without asking, and began looking for something to wear. She had suggested a few dresses–which I forgot I owned–and I quickly shut it down, saying they were too revealing for the occasion.

As Diane was working through my wardrobe, I was lost in my own thoughts as I couldn’t help but revisit what Simon had said earlier: Just making sure Hughes has zero chances with you.

I thought about it for a brief moment.

And I wasn’t sure if I could say that was still true.

Diane and I agreed if this was the night we were getting absolutely fucked up, there was no way in hell either of us were driving. 

It might’ve been the smartest decision we made tonight.

The Uber ride to The Inferno mostly consisted with Diane’s excitement, her voice buzzing with anticipation. Majority of the time I just nodded along, my mind was too preoccupied with what the rest of the night could spiral into. And they weren't necessarily good things.

I should’ve known better than to let Diane pick my outfit. The moment we stepped out of the car, a gust of wind sent a shiver down my spine, and I tugged at the material of my thin dress. I regretted my decision entirely. 

The city was alive, buzzing with the kind of energy that only a Saturday night could bring. Bright neon lights glowed, illuminating the crowded streets as groups of people filed into nightclubs and bars, so eager to drown themselves the only way they knew how–in alcohol and music. 

The Inferno stood center of it all, one of the hottest new clubs in downtown Vancouver. Its name alone promised chaos. I would know, considering this wasn’t my first rodeo here.

The line outside stretched far, but Diane barely seemed to notice. 

She bounced on her heels, gripping my arm ever so tightly. “This is going to be the best night ever.”

I wasn’t so sure of that. 

Once the bouncer checked our IDs and waved us through, we walked down a long hallway leading to the main doors. With each step, the pulse of music grew stronger and stronger, vibrating through my bones.

As soon as we stepped inside, we were hit with an explosion of sound and light.

The Inferno was infamous for its massive, open-concept that it was hard to believe a nightclub like this existed–that you would only find in the lively cities like Vegas or Florida. 

There were two sleek bars on either side, a second-floor balcony overlooking the entire club, and the center filled with booths and couches for those who wanted a more chillaxing scene–to escape the chaos.

The real action, though, was further back, where the dance floor stretched beneath flashing strobes and a DJ booth commanded the large crowd of people. 

Diane’s fingers wrapped around my wrist as she dragged me straight to the bar. “First round’s on me!” she shouted over the blaring music.

I slid into one of the empty stools next to her, my gaze flicking across the sea of people. There were way more bodies packed in here than the last time we came. The heat, the scent of booze mixed with expensive cologne and perfume–it was intoxicating and overwhelming all at once.

“Don’t you think there are more people here than last time?” I asked, shifting on my seat uncomfortably.

Diane barely glanced around before dismissing my concern with a shrug. “I don’t think so. Seems about the same to me.”

Of course she’d say that. Diane didn’t have a care in the world right now–she just wanted to get shitfaced. 

She wouldn’t let me ever stop her from doing so, especially when she turned to the bartender, and ordered two shots. He sent down the glasses, I immediately recognized the bottle he began pouring in front of us.

“Tequila?” I winced. “We won’t make it home in one piece, Di.”

Diane rolled her eyes, lifting her shot glass. “Syd, it’s my birthday today. So for the love of God, take the shot.”

She glared at me, waiting. I hesitated, glancing down at the golden liquid.

I thought about it. Taking this shot would be the beginning of a very, very bad–or possibly great–decision. Either way, there was no turning back. It’s my friend’s birthday after all. Don’t ruin it for her.

With a sigh, I clinked my glass against hers. “Cheers to turning twenty-four.”

We downed the shots in one go, the burn racing down my throat. I hissed, shaking my head. “I forgot how much I hated this.” 

Diane only laughed, knowing what we both got ourselves into. She tapped the counter for another round. “It’s going to be a long night, Syd. I hope you’re ready for it.” 

I was definitely not ready.

By the time we hit our fourth–or was it fifth?–I could feel the alcohol settling in my system, warm and intoxicating. My limbs were lighter, my movements became more sluggish, and my heartbeat thundered faster.

I thought I had a higher tolerance for booze, I didn’t remember being this much of a lightweight. And soon enough, five shots turned into eight and I was starting to feel incredibly drunk.

Diane, naturally, was in her element, feeding off the energy of the club, throwing back drinks like water. At some point, we found a group of strangers to drink with, all of them laughing and clinking glasses as I raised mine–very out of character for me to do so.

“Everyone, it’s my best friend Diane’s birthday today!” I shouted, my voice louder than I intended at the group circling us by the bar. “I want everyone here to wish her a happy birthday!”

“Happy birthday Diane!” The group cheered, and we all easily tipped back another shot. 

Moments have gone by as I chatted with a few girls by the bar, while slipping in another glass. 

Until a familiar song blasted through the speakers, and my eyes lit up. My body reacted a lot faster before my brain had even processed it–I wanted to dance. 

I turned to Diane, only to find her head resting on the bar’s counter, her eyes barely open. 

“Diane, I love this song! Come dance with me, please?” I shook her shoulder, trying to get her to move. 

She groaned, lifting her head just enough to meet my gaze. “I’m not really feeling good right now.”

I frowned at her. “But you were the one who said to have fun tonight. That’s what I’m trying to do, silly.” 

“I did,” she laughed, though it was much weaker now. “But now that I’m on the fucking verge of throwing up, I think I might tap out.” 

I let out a deep sigh, glancing at the packed dance floor. The energy was electrifying, the kind of moment I wouldn’t want to waste. “I’m having such a good time, but it would be even better if you danced with me.”

“And I’m so glad that you are enjoying yourself. I wouldn’t want to be the reason you aren’t.” Diane gave me a sleepy smile. “I’ll watch you from here. Now, go dance–I know you love this song.” 

I hesitated, giving her a look before nodding anyways. Who was I kidding? I wouldn’t miss this song for the world.

“Okay, but don’t die.”

“No promises.” 

She sent me off, shooing me away from her as I weaved through the crowd.  I found my way to the center of the dance floor, singing–more like screaming from the top of our lungs–with a few girls surrounding me to the song Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado.

The beat pulsed beneath my feet, and I let myself go, moving fluidly and effortlessly with the music–like there was nobody else in the room. My body swayed, arms raised, my hair swinging side to side as I lost myself in the moment.

It felt good, better than I had in a long while.

Then a pair of hands landed on my hips.

I froze instantly. Then I turned my head just enough to see a man. Tall, smirking, and too fucking close.

“Hey, get your hands off me!” I stepped away from him. 

He leaned in closer, voice smooth. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You looked so hot while you were dancing, I’m just trying to have fun here.”

Almost immediately, panic and disgust clawed its way up my spine. “I said, get the fuck away from me! Fucking creep.”

He didn’t listen. His hands reached for me again, and this time–I smacked them away. My eyes flicked to his, only to find his gaze burning through my skull. Oh fuck, he didn’t like that. 

I tried to step back, but he followed. The more I moved, the gap between us closed, the smaller my world became as bodies pressed around me. I was starting to feel trapped, my body has never felt more stuck and unable to move.

But then I hit something–no, more like someone. A hard, unmoving chest.

I turned, ready to push away whoever the fuck it was, until my eyes widened when I met his familiar green orbs.

Quinn.

“She said to get the fuck away from her,” his voice was cold and sharp. “And I think it’s best that you do that. Now.”

all rights reserved © 2025 hellvst. please do not copy, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

[highprettybabyy]

Seeing Red

Part 15 - Something Wicked This Way Comes

jenna ortega x fem!reader apocalypse au

summary: Jenna and Y/N respond to an emergency signal- an old friend of Y/N's

warnings: enemies to lovers, typical apocalypse stuff, violence, blood, zombies, gore, maybe angst, some fluff, alcohol consumption

AN: my dog has a skin tumour and my period is kicking my ass but by god will i write something again - thank you everyone for being patient, i'm sorry for the wait <3

word count: 4.1k

Part 14

—//—

The air smelt of rust and forgotten things.

You and Jenna picked your way through the crumbled husk of what used to be a computer repair shop - though there was little left to identify it. Rows of dust-choked shelves leaned in like toppled dominoes, wires curled like dry vines across the broken tile. The faint sound of dripping water echoed through the far end of the building, where half the roof had collapsed, letting in beams of early morning sunlight speckled with dust motes.

It should’ve been quiet. Still. Just another scavenging run.

But then the static crackled.

You froze mid-step. Jenna did too, her boot lightly tapping your heel as she almost bumped into you.

It came again. Not just noise. Not a fluke of interference or wind through old metal.

A voice.

“…S-SOS… anyone out there… this is Cam… please…”

You turned slowly, your eyes sweeping across the mess of shattered electronics and overturned desks until they landed on the culprit: an old emergency band receiver, wedged between a fallen monitor and a tangle of split cabling. It blinked red. Active.

“…I’m stuck… injured… please. I’ve been here two days…”

Your chest tightened. The name. The voice.

“Cam?” you whispered aloud, before you could stop yourself.

Jenna’s brows drew together. “What?”

You stepped forward, brushing off grime from the receiver, your heart thudding. You pressed the cracked talk button. “Cam? It’s- it’s Y/N. Is that really you?”

The reply was instant - desperate. “Y/N? Holy shit. You’re alive. God, I didn’t think- fuck. It’s so good to hear your voice.”

Behind you, Jenna was silent.

You looked over your shoulder at her - eyes wide, stunned. “I know him. From high school. We were friends. He- he disappeared one day. Just vanished.”

Jenna’s jaw tensed. “And now he’s here. On this exact frequency. After all this time?”

“He might’ve picked up the old emergency bands. Some of them still work,” you said quickly. “We have to help him.”

“Do we?” Her voice was low, wary.

You turned to face her fully now. She was standing straight, one hand resting on her hip, the other near her holster. Her eyes weren’t angry, but they were watchful - guarded in that way that meant she’d already assessed all the ways this could go wrong.

“He’s alone,” you said. “And hurt.”

“And we don’t know who he is anymore,” Jenna countered. “You said it yourself - he vanished. People change. Or they don’t. And the ones who don’t are sometimes worse.”

Your stomach turned. She wasn’t wrong.

But still… it was Cam. Or it used to be.

You thought of the boy who used to sneak you extra fries in the cafeteria. The one who’d walk you home when the buses stopped running, then gone.

“He might’ve saved my life once,” you murmured. “I can’t ignore him now.”

Jenna’s mouth pressed into a thin line. She looked away, briefly, like she was searching for an argument that wouldn’t come.

“…Fine,” she said after a pause, voice taut. “But I’m coming. And if anything feels off, we leave. No questions.”

You nodded, heart racing. “Deal.”

Jenna turned her gaze back to the receiver. “Did he say where he was?”

You pressed the button again. “Cam, where are you exactly? We need your location.”

The voice crackled through, weaker now. “North of the industrial zone. Just past the power substation. Red brick building. Metal shutters. Second floor… can’t move my leg.”

You scribbled it quickly into your notebook, nodding.

Jenna reloaded her Glock with a sharp click.

You could feel her tension - the way her shoulders squared, the quiet way she checked her knife sheaths, the glance she gave you that said stay close, don’t be stupid.

“Let’s go find him,” you said, trying for a steady voice.

Jenna didn’t answer, but she followed - always half a step behind you.

And outside, the wind began to pick up.

-

The air grew heavier as you moved closer to the location Cam had given.

What passed for streets now were just cracked pavement and a minefield of abandoned cars, broken glass, and creeping weeds. The industrial zone loomed in the distance - hollowed-out factories and crumbling smokestacks, their shadows long in the afternoon light. Crows circled above, low and slow.

You and Jenna stayed low, keeping to the alleyways where possible, your footfalls near silent.

“There,” you whispered, pointing toward a structure ahead.

It stood squat and wide - the red brick building Cam had described. Metal shutters lined the windows, a faded loading dock peeled with graffiti. One of the shutters was half open on the second floor. A broken fire escape snaked up the side of the building, rusted but intact.

“Could be a trap,” Jenna murmured, her voice barely audible.

You nodded once, heart beating fast. “But if it’s not...”

She gave you a long look, then gestured. “I’ll take the lead.”

You let her - gladly. The tension in her body had sharpened, her steps cautious but deliberate. She checked every corner, every window, every open door along the path. At one point, she raised a closed fist and you stopped immediately, crouching behind an overturned bin while she peered ahead.

“No movement,” she said after a long moment.

You reached the building’s side and tested the fire escape. It groaned but held. Jenna scowled at the noise, gesturing you upward with a stern look. You went first. She followed close behind, her rifle slung but ready.

You reached the second floor and ducked inside through the half-shuttered window.

It was a dim storage office - dust on every surface, papers long since yellowed and brittle. The scent of mildew clung to the walls. You moved cautiously through the hallway, eyes scanning every shadow.

Then a weak cough echoed from behind a closed door at the end of the corridor.

You exchanged a glance with Jenna.

She raised her Glock and stepped forward, you right behind her. Her hand hovered at the door handle, her eyes flicking to you once more.

You nodded.

She pushed the door open.

There he was.

Cam.

Slumped against an overturned filing cabinet, one leg twisted unnaturally beneath him and wrapped in a makeshift tourniquet. His face was thinner than you remembered, sharper, almost gaunt. His blonde hair was messy, his face streaked with grime, but his expression lit up the moment he saw you.

“Y/N,” he breathed.

You froze for a beat, blinking at the surreal sight - the same eyes you remembered from school, somehow unchanged in the storm of everything else.

Then you moved forward quickly, kneeling beside him.

“Jesus, Cam,” you muttered. “You look like shit.”

He laughed - a short, pained sound. “You look incredible, actually. Still a firecracker.”

“Don’t flirt when you’re half-dead,” you scolded gently, already examining the wound.

“I’ve been worse,” he grinned, though his teeth never showed.

Behind you, Jenna stayed near the door. Watchful. Silent. Her body taut like a coiled spring.

Cam glanced up at her, then back at you - dismissing her presence entirely.

It made your stomach twist, even if you couldn’t say why.

“How long’ve you been stuck here?” you asked, gently pressing around his knee.

“Two days. Fell through a rotten stair. Made it up here. Radioed out when I could.” He winced. “Didn’t expect it to work.”

“Lucky it did.”

You began unwrapping his makeshift bandage, noting the swelling. It didn’t seem infected, but it would need bracing.

“You brought a rescue party,” Cam said, eyes flicking to Jenna again. “Didn’t know you rolled with soldiers.”

“I’m not military,” Jenna said flatly.

“That a gun I see?”

“She’s with me,” you interjected, trying to keep your tone neutral.

Cam’s gaze lingered on you. “Good. You always needed backup.”

You didn’t answer.

Instead, you turned back to his leg and focused on securing it with the splint Jenna pulled from her pack. The tension in the room coiled tighter with every second.

And still - Cam didn’t so much as acknowledge her help.

-

It took both of you to get Cam up and mobile. You offered your shoulder while Jenna trailed behind, silent but watchful. Cam leaned into you more than necessary - his hand gripping your side a bit too tightly, too familiarly. You felt it, but didn’t say anything. Not yet. Maybe it was the injury. Maybe he was just relieved. That’s what you told yourself.

“Missed this,” Cam muttered near your ear. “Being around you again.”

You didn’t answer.

The fire escape groaned under your combined weight as you descended, Jenna watching your every step from the ground below. You noticed how she kept one hand on her side holster the entire time. Not ready to fire. But far from relaxed.

Once your boots hit the pavement, Jenna approached - sparing Cam a single glance before flicking her eyes back to you.

“We should move. Fast,” she said. “Sun’s setting soon.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, repositioning Cam’s arm as he half-limped, half-dragged himself forward. “We’ve got a spot a couple klicks south. Safe. Quiet.”

“Perfect,” Cam grinned, that same tight, too-wide smile. “Lead the way.”

You started walking, careful to keep your pace even - too aware of every brush of Cam’s fingers near your hip.

The first twenty minutes were quiet - too quiet.

Cam asked a few questions about where you’d been, what you’d seen, the usual survivor stuff. You answered in short phrases, eyes flicking to the skyline. Jenna didn’t speak unless she had to.

Cam didn’t ask her anything.

When a hollowed-out convenience store appeared on your left, Jenna offered to check inside for anything useful. You offered to go with her, but she shook her head.

“Stay with your friend,” she said evenly.

You watched her disappear inside,

That left you and Cam alone for the first time.

He leaned against a rusted lamppost, exhaling sharply. “You know, I used to think about you.”

You didn’t answer.

“I mean, I was halfway through Kansas with a group of complete psychos. I’d close my eyes at night and just - remember the way you used to fight in class. Like you were born with fire in your bones.”

You gave a strained chuckle. “I remember you disappearing without a word.”

Cam’s grin twitched. “Yeah. Had to get out. Long story.”

“Still waiting to hear it.”

“You will. Soon.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then, more softly: “You look good, Y/N. Like... too good for this world.”

You turned to face him fully.

“Cam, it’s been years. You don’t get to talk to me like nothing happened.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, hey. I’m just saying you turned out even better than I thought.”

You said nothing. Not until the door behind you opened again.

Jenna emerged, a few tins in hand..

“Let’s go,” she said.

You walked faster after that. Let Cam hobble a little more on his own.

-

The sun was just starting to dip below the trees when the villa came back into view - that warm, golden hour glow casting long shadows across the gravel drive. You felt your shoulders sag a little at the sight of home. Even with Cam walking beside you, talking non-stop, there was something in you that unwound at the familiar outline of the roof, the rustle of the garden fencing in the breeze. But something was off - you didn’t know what yet, just a quiet thrum of wrongness tapping the back of your mind.

Jenna was quiet.

She hadn’t said much since you helped Cam hobble through the fields. She stayed a few steps behind you, not out of caution - not entirely - but it felt deliberate. Observational. You could feel her eyes on the back of your neck, but every time you glanced over your shoulder, she looked somewhere else.

And then Angelo barked.

Your heart skipped - not out of fear, but from the sound alone. Home. You smiled instinctively and picked up the pace, only to freeze on the third step to the porch when you saw him.

He was at the door. Hackles raised. Teeth bared. A deep, guttural growl rolled through his chest like thunder caught in fur.

“Hey, buddy,” you called softly, holding out a hand. “It’s just us.”

His eyes flicked to you for a split second - he recognised you, of course he did - but they snapped right back to Cam like a tether, every muscle in his body coiled tight.

Cam stopped walking.

He tilted his head, raising both hands with a forced little chuckle. “Well, damn. You always had a thing for grumpy pets, huh?”

You blinked, halfway between a laugh and a frown.

Angelo didn’t move.

He growled louder.

Cam lowered one hand, taking a small step forward. “You’re not gonna bite me, right, big guy?”

That’s when Jenna moved - fast, silent. She came up beside you and put her arm lightly across your stomach, a casual enough gesture to anyone watching… but you felt the tension in her muscles.

“Maybe let him come to you,” she said flatly. Her voice was smooth, but her eyes were locked on Cam.

Cam held her gaze for a moment, that too-easy smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth.

Then, with a little huff, he stepped back.

Angelo didn’t stop growling until Cam was two paces behind you. Then, finally, he sniffed you - real fast - and pressed his head against your hip with a soft whine.

You scratched behind his ear and murmured, “Good boy.” But your heart felt heavy. Confused. That warning growl… you’d never heard him do that before. Not once.

Inside, you unlocked the door, stepping aside to let Cam in. Jenna didn’t follow immediately. She stayed outside for another second, staring after Cam as he strolled into your living room like he owned the place.

You reached for her arm. “You okay?”

She gave you a short nod, eyes still fixed on the doorway. “Just… keeping an eye out.”

Cam whistled low from the hallway. “You really scored with this place, huh? Indoor pool, backup power, full fencing? What’s next, a damn wine cellar?”

He was already moving through the space - glancing into the kitchen, poking his head into the hallway.

“Cam,” you called, trying to keep your voice friendly, “maybe don’t-”

“Relax,” he said without looking back. “Just checking it out. Never thought I’d see a place like this again. Hell, didn’t think I’d see you again either.”

You bit your tongue.

Jenna closed the door softly behind her and stepped up beside you, arms crossed, stance unmoving.

“Most survivors would be grateful,” she said under her breath. “Not... nose-diving into someone else’s pantry.”

You let out a small sigh. “He’s just... loud. Always was.”

Jenna didn’t reply. But the look she gave you was enough.

Cam eventually circled back toward you, his arms stretched above his head like he’d just come back from a jog. “This place is paradise. You two got everything a person could want. And each other, huh?”

Your throat tightened.

Jenna didn’t flinch.

You smiled, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “It’s not exactly a luxury stay. We worked to make it liveable.”

Cam stepped closer, brushing your arm with the back of his fingers - a touch that lingered half a second too long. “You always were the resourceful one.”

You pulled your arm back under the guise of adjusting your jacket.

“Where’s the bathroom?” he asked, casually.

You pointed down the hallway. “First left. There’s running water - but it’s not hot and the water pressure is kind of shit.”

Cam nodded, already heading there.

The second he disappeared from view, Jenna turned to you.

“You trust him?” she asked quietly.

You hesitated. “I knew him in high school. He was a good guy.”

Jenna’s eyes were tired when she looked at you. “He didn’t look at me once.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. “I noticed.”

She softened just a bit. “I’m not saying don’t help him. I’m saying... keep your guard up. Please.”

You nodded.

And behind you, Angelo let out another low, uneasy whine - his eyes still fixed on the hallway where Cam had gone.

-

You found yourself scrubbing the already-clean kitchen counter. Jenna was unpacking a few tins of beans into the pantry, unnecessarily reorganising your already well-stocked shelves. Angelo paced between you both, tail flicking with mild agitation.

Cam hadn’t come back from the bathroom yet, and somehow that made the whole house feel heavier.

“I’ll prep the guest room,” Jenna said, her voice low but firm, grabbing one of the extra sets of linen from the hallway cupboard. She didn’t wait for your nod before disappearing down the corridor.

You let her go. Part of you wanted to follow, to apologise, to tell her that this was temporary - that she was your choice, not Cam. But instead, you turned to the stove and did what you knew how to do best: you cooked.

The fridge still had some of the roasted root vegetables from yesterday - and Jenna had picked a few plump tomatoes from the garden earlier that morning. You diced them without thinking, hands moving on instinct, adding dried thyme and a little cracked pepper to a shallow cast iron pan.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Cam emerged with damp hair, his shirt off now - just the grimy tank top beneath. He tossed the shirt over the back of one of the chairs like he lived here, then leaned against the doorframe and watched you.

“That smell…” he said. “Shit, Y/N. I forgot what real food even smelled like.”

You didn’t look up. “Dinner will be ready in a bit.”

“You always were the kitchen genius.”

You didn’t respond.

He took a few steps forward and leaned one hand on the island. “So what’s the setup here? You and her-”

“Cam,” you said, too sharply.

He raised his hands. “Hey. Not judging. I just didn’t take you for the domestic type.”

You swallowed, turned off the flame under the vegetables, and finally looked up. “People change.”

“Sure,” he said with a smirk. “But do they really?”

Jenna entered just in time, saving you from answering. Her eyes scanned the kitchen quickly, then flicked to Cam’s posture - how he was leaning into your space without realising it.

Dinner was silent after that.

You sat at the end of the table, Jenna to your left, and Cam across. You’d made a simple dish - a warm root and bean salad, with the last of the feta and homemade flatbread on the side. Jenna murmured a soft thanks before digging in.

Cam talked enough for all three of you.

He told you about how he’d ended up stuck in that half-collapsed auto shop, how his last group scattered, how he’d tried to hold out. He told it like a war story, bravado dripping from every word. You nodded politely when needed. Jenna didn’t speak once.

When the plates were cleared and Cam excused himself to “check out the property a bit,” Jenna stood at the sink with her back to you, shoulders drawn.

You joined her, towel in hand. “You okay?”

She hesitated. “I don’t like him.”

“I know.”

“He touches you too much.”

You turned your head, surprised by the bluntness.

“I know it’s not like that,” she added. “But I don’t like it.”

You handed her a clean plate. “I’ll talk to him.”

“No,” she said, finally glancing at you. “I just needed to say it.”

You offered a small smile - then nudged her shoulder with your own. “Next time, I’ll pretend I dropped a spoon on his foot.”

Jenna cracked a grin. “Make it a ladle. Less suspicious.”

The tension didn’t fully leave the air, but it eased. Just enough.

Outside, Cam’s footsteps could be heard crunching over gravel. Angelo was still at the door, hackles no longer raised but posture alert.

Something in your gut twisted.

You hoped it was nothing.

But deep down… you knew it wasn’t.

-

You didn’t sleep that night.

Not for hours, anyway.

Even after the quiet had settled like dust across the villa and Cam had finally shut up and wandered off to the spare bedroom - muttering something about needing a real bed for once - you lay in the dark beside Jenna, your body curled loosely beneath the blanket, your mind flicking through a reel of unease.

He hadn’t stopped touching you. Barely glanced at Jenna. He’d made himself at home in your home. And you hated how you’d let it happen. Or maybe you hated how easily he’d slipped into that role -like the last seven years hadn’t changed anything.

But they had. God, they had.

Jenna hadn’t said much after dinner. Just helped you clean up quietly, her eyes distant. When you passed her a tea towel, her fingers brushed yours, and for a second you thought maybe she’d say something. But she hadn’t. Just dried the plates. One by one. Like they were the most important thing in the world.

Now, in the soft, dim light of your bedroom, her back was to you.

She’d pulled on a hoodie after brushing her teeth - one of yours, judging by the way it bunched around her wrists - and she lay curled around one of the pillows, arms drawn tight to her chest. Angelo was on the rug near the foot of the bed, breathing slow and even, a protective weight in the room.

You watched Jenna’s shoulders rise and fall.

She wasn’t asleep. Not fully. You could tell from the rhythm of her breath. The way her fingers flexed sometimes.

You shifted a little closer. Not touching. Just near enough.

“I didn’t know he’d still be like that,” you whispered, voice barely audible. “Cam. I thought maybe he’d changed.”

Jenna didn’t move. But her voice came, quiet and without heat. “I didn’t think he was supposed to be anything.”

“I meant…” You paused, chewing the inside of your cheek. “I meant I didn’t think he’d act like that.”

She turned slightly, just enough for you to see the outline of her face in the dim light from the hallway.

“He ignored me the entire day.”

“I know.”

“And touched you every chance he got.”

“I know.”

Her eyes flickered toward yours.

“And you let him.”

The words weren’t cruel. Not accusing. Just… honest.

You looked down at your hands beneath the blanket. “I froze. I didn’t know how to act. I haven’t seen him since we were seventeen and then he’s just… there.”

Silence.

“I didn’t like it,” you added. “The way he acted. The way he looked at you. Or didn’t. It was off.”

“You think?”

You cracked a smile. Barely. “Okay, maybe I’m understating it.”

She didn’t smile back. Not yet. But she did shift a little closer. The blanket pulled tighter between you.

“He’s in our house,” she said softly. “He knows where we live now.”

“I know.”

“We don’t know how long he’s been out there. Or what he’s done.”

“I know.”

She exhaled slowly, then surprised you by reaching out - just slightly - and taking hold of your hand beneath the blanket. Her palm was warm. Firm. Real.

“I just don’t want to lose this,” she said.

You blinked.

“This… peace. You. The villa. Everything we’ve built.” She squeezed your hand once. “He felt like a reminder of everything we left behind. And not the good parts.”

You swallowed hard.

“I don’t want to lose it either,” you whispered.

For a while, neither of you said anything.

Then Jenna shifted fully, curling into your side, her cheek resting just above your shoulder. Her arms slipped around your middle, and you instinctively pulled her in, pressing a kiss to her forehead without thinking.

The air between you softened again. Like the tension was melting. Like you could finally breathe.

Jenna murmured, “At least Angelo doesn’t trust him either.”

You snorted quietly. “Yeah. I’ve never seen him growl like that before.”

“I like that dog more every day.”

You let the silence take hold again. But this time, it felt warm. Protected. Your fingers found the hem of her sleeve and curled into it gently.

Minutes passed. Your thoughts slowed.

And just before you drifted off, you heard her murmur against your collarbone-

“I still don’t like him touching you.”

You smiled into her hair.

“Me neither.”

--//--

AN: didnt proofread enough i think 🫠