#this man would bounce you on his cock on his motorcycle

[baby-tini]

GUYSS!!! Riding Chuuya on his motorcycle!!! Maybe he pulled over in a discreet alleyway because he couldn't wait till you both got home because your greedy little hands were rubbing at his cock when they were supposed too be around his waist and behaving. So he pulls you to the front with his feet planted, holding up the bike as he takes his cock out and he's slipping your panties to the side under that slutty little skirt and he bouncing you on his cock with your back arched backwards over the handle bars of the bike and he's slipping his gloved fingers down your throat too prevent your moans getting too loud with your teeth digging into him, his fingers twitching on your tongue as his other hand is gripping your hip, guiding you up and down his cock, the wet squelching loud in the otherwise quiet alleyway. The head of his cock pounding into your cervix as the bike starts too shake, your nails digging into his shoulders as your eyes roll back and your legs twitch, shaking as you straddle the bike. Cum leaking from your cunt as it flows all pretty down his cock, pooling on his balls before it drips down on the leather seat and his head tilts back as he whimpers, pretty little groans bubbling at the back of his throat as he shoots load after load into your sensitive cunt. Then proceeding too keep you sat pretty on his cock for the rest of the ride home so it doesn't leak out, only for him too lick you clean as soon as he has your ass laid pretty on his couch.

[dallianceangel]

Come On Over 📱🥵

summary: with your mom on a night shift, things heat up between you and chibs.

author’s note: i might write some more of these text message fics, i just feel like there’s so much i could do with them 😊

word count: 500 words.

pairings: chibs telford x fem!reader.

warnings: adult content. 18+ only. age gap but reader is of legal age.

🫦 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 🫦

You’re lying on your bed, watching a YouTube video on your phone when a message notification pops up. It’s from Chibs, your Mom’s boyfriend, and the man you have secretly been sleeping with for the past few months. “What’s my favourite girl up to?”

Your heart races as you read the message. You’ve been waiting for this. “Just thinking about you. What about you?”

“Thinking about how good you’d look bouncing on my cock.” Your eyes widen as you read the message.

“Why don’t you come over and let me?” you reply, biting your lip as you imagine the scene.

“Your ma at work?”

“Yeah, she’s working the night shift so she won’t be home for hours.”

“Be there in 10, lass.”

You jump off the bed, quickly changing into some sexy underwear—the pair that Chibs kindly bought for you and promised he would take off with his teeth. The wait feels like an eternity, but then you hear his motorcycle approach the street. Your heart races as you run to the door, opening it just as he reaches the porch.

Chibs steps inside, closing the door behind him as he gazes hungrily at you. “You missed me?” he asks.

“So much,” you reply, before locking the door and leading him up the stairs.

When you enter your bedroom, his hands cup your face as he pulls you in for a kiss. It’s not long before he’s taking off your underwear with his teeth, pushing you down onto the bed, kneeling down onto the floor as he kisses up and down your inner thighs.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he mutters, loving the way you moan.

“Please, fuck me,” you gasp, wanting to feel him inside of you.

He chuckles against your lips, pressing a soft kiss against them. “Patience, love. I’m going to take my time with you.”

“Chibs,” you moan, your hands gripping his shoulders as he moves lower, his lips trailing down your chest, down your stomach. When he stops just below your belly button, he looks up and smirks, catching sight of you panting in anticipation. You cry out as Chibs starts sucking and licking at your clit, the sound driving him fucking crazy.

Just as you teeter over the edge, Chibs shifts his focus away from your clit, his eyes locked on yours as he enters you, filling you completely. Shifting into the Cowgirl position, you ride him until you both come undone, crying out each other’s name, collapsing on top of him, completely breathless.

You lie in his arms, your bodies tangled together, hearts still racing as you come down from the high.

“How much time do we have?” he asks, his breath tickling your ear.

“Mom finishes work at 6AM,” you reply, smiling as you rest your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “So if you leave an hour early, we have seven hours together.”

“That’s good,” he says, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

[onsunnyside]

⋆⁺ ☁︎ 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | nomad!Steve Rogers x reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | fluff, soft!Steve, nomad!Steve, neighbours-to-lovers, smut: sexual content (blink and you’ll miss it), angst, the blip: implied/mentioned characters (& reader) getting blipped

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | He’s a man on the run and you’re a chameleon soul, and if only things were as simple as they seem. 

𝗪/𝗖 | 4.56K

𝗔/𝗡 | I realized I hadn’t written any angst yet, and as someone with a guilty pleasure of angsty fics, I was appalled. This is an au of where steve went while he was on the run, set between CACW and/after AIW. Heavily inspired by Lana Del Rey’s Video Games, Lucky Ones, and Ride (& the monologue). All mistakes are my own. [all asks]

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Everything surrounding you is mellow and comforting. The sun had long set, taking away those burning white rays, and leaving the humid summer air in its wake. You inhale once, and then again. 

Behind you, he shifts, his cotton shirt is smooth against your back, and his foot brushes yours. Heat radiates from his skin and it soothes you in ways that words can neven describe. 

Living like this feels like an art form itself, which only makes it ironic since you aren’t doing much at all. 

You wonder if you blink, you’d slip back into that drift. It wasn’t a place, no, it was everywhere and in everything—to you, it was a state of being. 

An inconsistent course of muted colours and blurred faces, forgettable names spoken in unique voices and memories that bounce between heavenly and awful. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy those moments in that drift. 

You had always been a little wild at heart, and as you grew older, fewer and fewer things and people could keep you tamed, satisfied—still. 

That obsession for wonder and freedom sent your life into a spiral that has landed you in cities all over the world, with people of all kinds. In a way, they are with you now, all those experiences have brought you here, and someday, this moment will bring you to another. 

Hopefully, one with him. 

He didn’t like when you spoke like that though, he wanted you to know he’d always be there. Most times, you found yourself believing him, and other times you let his voice play over whatever tune was stuck in your head. 

Life was an open road, and him—he was a beautiful, vast garden on the side. And for the past year, you’ve been picking your collection of coloured petals to keep in your pocket. Every time you’d pick a flower, two more sprouts and, they’re always more intricate and stunning than the last. 

A large part of you wanted to stay here forever, to be with him until you’re old and grey, and it took a few months for you to admit that to him. Not because of pride or fear, but because of false hope. You didn’t want to plant seeds of faith into his heart, only to crush the seedlings with the tires of your motorcycle. 

“It would be an honour to be heartbroken by you.” 

You cocked a brow, lowly muttering his name, “Grant, if that isn’t a way to doom a relationship, I don’t know what is.” 

And he understood your hesitance, Steve was all too familiar with the style to up and run, hell, he did it for half a year before landing in this blip on a map. 

That’s where you were similar. Of course, for different reasons—ephemerality is woven into your soul, while his was the cause of a circumstance and the fact that he was a wanted fugitive. 

“—and postcards, lots of them,” Sam’s voice is equally excited and sorrowful, “and the nice ones, none of those crappy, flimsy ones that won’t survive the trip.” 

Natasha is different, there is a tinge of happiness in her green eyes but her face is serious, deadly even. “Keep in touch, and I mean it. Hide all you want, I will find you if I have to.” 

“You sure it won’t be the other way around?” Steve chuckled, embracing her tightly. “Something tells me you’ll both be off on a wild adventure soon… I hope you’ll tell me about it when we meet again.” 

That was over a year ago. And since then, he’s sent dozens of postcards to them, each with short descriptions of his life in point-form, never going into too much detail. His old phone was tucked into his nightstand, it was only for emergencies since he could still be tracked if the government tried. 

In this little town, life was good, simple with next to zero worries hovering over his head. Here is the sun was the most radiant. 

You were a true ghost, if Steve could call you that, but that also meant you were a clean slate. A fresh start that he’s craved so deeply, a new beginning that he deserved. 

You’ve been on the road for years and are a master hitchhiker, he knew that much. You’ve lost count of the miles, the places you’ve occupied and the souls you’ve met. You didn’t have a cellphone, a television, or read the newspaper. You had no clue who he was, what he’s done. 

Although, the long hair and thick beard were to thank for that cluelessness as well. 

No one in this town knew who he was, and with that, he was able to create someone new. Grant was someone untouched by the Avengers, the Accords and unscathed by any extraterrestrial existence. Just him. Only him. The sole performer and artist, creating his own story as he goes on. 

“You aren’t even looking at the clouds, Grant.”

“I am,” he answers, that charming grin growing wider by the second, “they’re in your eyes.” 

“I have clouds… in my eyes?” 

“Yeah, c’mere and let me see if I can make anything from it.” He’s quick to pull you closer, his hands cupping your face. His blue eyes sear into yours, so full of adoration that it makes your knees a little weak. 

You press your hands on his chest. There’s a faint thump beneath your fingertips, and it’s almost in time with yours. “See anything?” 

“Hm? What?” He blinks, those thick lashes fanning across his cheekbones. “Oh, just got a little lost, you know…” His finger hooks under your chin, bringing you closer, “…in the clouds.” Your lips meet in a soft, sweet kiss. 

The delicacy reels you in and silences those pessimistic voices, and now in the quiet, you follow willingly. 

You’ve been hurt before but Grant—dearest Grant could destroy you with a single sentence. The worst part is that you don’t have to tell him for him to know, he was well aware of the effect he had on you, the way you’d fold if he asked. It was a foreign feeling you had never felt before, and it scared you. 

You felt vulnerable with him despite the glass that has moulded to your skin, keeping you protected yet, within your own terms, exposed. 

And him, he’s only ever made you feel safe and secure with that openness. 

Blooming from that comfort, that freedom to mess up, be understood and be forgiven, is love. With stupid absolute, you’ve fallen in love with him. 

Yet you don’t even know his real name. To you and this town, he’s Grant, to the rest of the world and planets in far places, he’s Steve Rogers. 

“What’s got you actin’ so sweet today? Have you done anything that you suddenly regret?” You ask with a slight glare but there’s no heat behind it, nor your question. 

“I may have forgotten to load the dishwasher before coming here… also think I forgot my ID, so if we get pulled over, you’ve got to do the talking.”

“Oh, as if Marco gives a crap about us all the way up here.” You turn away again, leaning on Steve who was sitting on the hood of his car. Below the cliffside is one of the smallest towns you’ve ever seen. 

With a population in the low hundreds, one local school, bar and extremely limited contact with the rest of the world, it was a stark contrast to the big, sparkling cities you’ve experienced. 

Definitely not stellar.

“Ugh, this town fucking sucks. It makes me wonder why I even stayed this long—not like anything is keeping me here anyway. No hot steamy year-long romance to keep me tied down.” 

Steve laughs sarcastically, pinching your hip. “Ha, ha, baby, you ever think of doing stand-up?”

“Yeah, I’ve dreamt of it,” you play along as your head sinks into the crook of his shoulder, “but I think I’ll stick to my one-woman show at Jerry’s dingy bar.” 

As if you could call it a show, it was more like grabbing the microphone between shifts and singing whatever new song the live band had learnt. 

Over the years, you’ve picked up odd jobs in whichever city you landed in, and as for performing, you’ve done it before in motels, restaurants, and bars. Never staying too long to create a name for yourself, rather just leaving out of the blue like a fleeting moment, a fever dream to the citizens. 

At the beginning of your journey and by your fifth city, you realized that temporariness fuelled that insatiable hunger for freedom. 

Looking back, you acknowledge the variety of taste, colour, and sound. In that state of being, in that drift, you are truly alone because you are lost in it, and being without yourself within yourself is a scary thing. It’s something you’re all too familiar with from being on the road for so long. 

“You just belong everywhere, huh?” Grant asked in awe at your endless array of stories from travelling the world, “Like a chameleon—you stay all the same, but change just enough to blend into wherever you are.” 

“You talk about it like it’s a talent.”

“It is.” He sat up straight, running a hand through his hair. “Not everyone can survive anywhere at any time—let alone, be happy and thrive from it.” 

You’ve always searched for a home, often making do with the kindness of strangers, but when you met Steve there was nothing else that could compare. 

Being alone once is enough, and meeting new souls is magical but being in his arms for a few moments is unrivalled. 

You loved that freedom, but you loved Grant—Steve more. Your commitment to him has stretched to a year, and despite becoming a recognizable face in this town, you don’t want to leave without him. 

You’ve spoken about skipping town someday, you want to show him your favourite cities, and hopefully meet up with those kind strangers who have helped you in more ways than one, some of which you only know the first name of. 

“We’ll always have tomorrow to decide.” You closed his notebook, ending his pros and cons list of travelling further East versus going up North. “And if we still can’t choose tomorrow, then we have the next day and the day after that. This free lifestyle doesn’t come with itineraries, Grant. When will you get that through your pretty head?”

Infinite time meant your obsession will never go unfulfilled—which also meant an infinite amount of time together, and endless chances to show Grant everything you want. 

That’s the difference between the two of you. 

You believe there is a tomorrow, there will be another opportunity to hold him like this, to feel his breath on your lips. 

Steve knows different.

You live in the land of tomorrow while Steve lives in the present.

His bag is packed, his suit is laid out on the lumpy mattress and his plants have already been given to Mr. Carter who lives down the street, a kind old man who took them with a joyous grin. 

“I knew it, you kids are finally getting out of here while you can.” 

Kids, as if Steve wasn’t over a hundred years old. 

Mr. Carter brought Steve in for a weak hug, his fragile bones only allowing so much. When he pulls away, his wrinkled hands gently cradle the potted plants. “Wish I was as wild as her. If I were young like you, I’d do the same thing,” he trailed off, pushing his glasses up his nose, “You are both lucky to do it together.”

Steve didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth and just nodded. “Yeah, luck.”

He hasn’t given up on you, nor what the both of you can create together. He’s postponing it—setting it in a box and stuffing it under his bed, he’ll be back for it, and for you. He’ll return once the world is repaired and he can finally formally retire. 

Is it worth it to break his own heart, to break you, to protect the entire universe? 

“Grant? What’s wrong?” 

Steve is quick to make up a lame excuse of being tired because, of course, he can’t tell you. 

He’s bitter about it—god, he’s allowed to be selfish sometimes. He’s given his life to the world and to the people who inhabit it, he doesn’t regret that but you, he’s been selfish for the past year by keeping you tucked away. 

Not even Natasha and Sam know the details, all they know is that he found a reason to stay in the shittiest little town on the planet. 

When his phone rang, he was surprised to hear Bruce, half-expecting and half-hoping for it to be Tony. 

It didn’t take long for him to get into that mindset again, to be the captain that everyone needed. First on his list was to meet Natasha and Sam, they probably already know what happened in New York while you and this town couldn’t be more clueless. 

That’s why he loved it here. 

He wanted to take you with him, but he couldn’t consciously put you in danger. He was fortunate enough to be unrecognizable in this place and he can only imagine the shock when you realize who he really is. 

You didn’t even know his last name, he was just Grant, the man who moved in next door and had accidentally got your mail one too many times.

He tried to drop it off one afternoon but you never answered, so he scrapped the idea of respectful introductions and slipped it under your door. This went on for a few weeks, he learnt a bit about you—your name, and how you had plenty of friends from so many different places. 

It made him wonder why you chose a town so tiny it fits into the palm of his hand. 

One day, the yellow door swung open. You were standing there in an oversized t-shirt with a mug in your hand, “So it’s you.”

“Uh, yes?” He answers awkwardly, ducking under his cap as a force of habit. He’s been in town for over a month, yet no one has recognized him yet. A random stroke of luck. “I live next door, I keep getting your mail.”

“Paula is just getting up there with age, I don’t think she can read as well as before.” You take the envelopes, skimming through them before tossing them on the counter. 

His gaze drags over your features, your hair and eyes, he takes notice of the sunlight shining around you like liquid gold. Okay, maybe he needs more friends if his heart is racing at the sight of a pretty woman. 

“Why don’t you answer your door?”

“Heavy sleeper.” You yawn, “I work nights at the motel, and come back and sleep all day.”

“Oh,” when he realizes he’s still on his knees at your door, he quickly stands, dusting his jeans, “I’m—” Steve, “Grant, I’m Grant, it’s nice to finally meet you.” 

You look between his face and his outstretched hand, a slow smile crawling onto your lips. You introduce yourself, shaking his hand. “I’ll tell Paula about the mail, hopefully, it won’t happen again.” 

And when your door shut, he couldn’t help but hope it did. 

The next time you met, it was because of a local stray cat. 

It was the fourth night in a row that Steve was sitting on the park bench outside the apartment complex. The can of cat food sitting next to him, opened as the smell wafted to his nose. He taps his foot on the ground, checking his watch. 

Then, the lobby door opens and you walk out, this time in a loose dress with a leash in your hand, and a familiar little animal by your side. Suddenly, that cat darts to the left. 

“Inky, hey! Calm down!” The harness slips from your hand, making you jerk to the side and nearly lose your shoe in a jagged slab of concrete. 

Inky? Steve doesn’t have a chance to question the name before the stray springs onto his lap, nudging his hand before finding delight in the canned food. “Hi, Rocky, how have you been, fella?”

You stumble in front of him, an apology on your lips before you notice that baseball cap atop long, blond hair. 

“So it’s you again.” You squint down at him, “he’s supposed to be on a diet.” 

Steve’s brows furrow, “what?” 

“I thought he was getting a little thicker, and it’s because of you.” You crouch down beside the bench, untangling the leash from his stubby legs. “I’ve been feeding this guy for weeks, I noticed easily.” 

“He’s a stray.”

“Not anymore, I adopted him.” You correct, “really recently actually.”

“But I’ve been feeding him since I got here.” Steve frowns, leaving out the fact that he’s also told many secrets to the animal, enough to even rival Bucky’s knowledge. “He’s—his name is Rocky.” 

“Inky.” You sit next to him, reaching over to pet the cat, rubbing between his ears, one of them missing the tip. “I guess I can't take away your only friend…”

“I have friends.” Steve is quick to reply. 

“In this town?” You ask skeptical, “I’ve never seen you leave your apartment, and no one else knows anything about you.” 

That sparks his interest. “You asked about me?” He smiles, pink lips drew into a grin. 

Your eyes widen before you turn away, and an odd bubbly feeling fills your stomach. You clear your throat, “Anyway, I suppose we can work out an arrangement, co-parenting this little thing can’t be that hard.” 

You both decide on Inky spending weekends at Steve’s place, and somehow those rotating weeks turned into dinner invites that bled into nights on your couch, talking about yourselves and nonsense. 

And soon he was walking into your apartment unannounced, making you dinner before you woke up to go to the motel, and later, he’d be there when you returned in the early hours, sleeping on the couch with Inky on his chest. 

Your first kiss was on that very bench too. You took Inky (or Rocky) to watch the sunrise on one of your days off, and Steve couldn’t look away from you. 

He likes to think that he made the first move, but he knows that’s wrong. 

You leaned your head on his shoulder, intertwining your fingers before peering up at him with those soft, tired eyes. When your lips met, it was like everything had suddenly made sense—the steady growth from neighbours to friends, then to kissing on the park bench at seven in the morning. 

It only made it harder to leave you. 

At least Steve knows that in every lifetime, he’d choose you. 

In a way, he believes he has met you a million times and yet this is the one when he becomes aware of it. 

“It would be an honour to be heartbroken by you.” 

What an honour it would be—but that could be his inner masochist speaking. 

In those million times, he’s chosen you every chance, and that little voice of doubt asks if you chose him too—or if he just got lucky this time. 

Of course, you did, you’ve told him every day. In different ways, quiet ways, by waking him up with a massage, dancing with him in the kitchen, and sitting still for hours while he sketched you. 

Steve didn’t work, his excuse was a hearty inheritance from his family, but in truth, he had a few duffel bags filled with cash that he withdrew before going on the run. Being in this town for a year has barely made a dent in it, and he can see himself spending days on end here, with you, and with Rocky. 

Everything he’s going to do is for the long run, so he can come back and hold you in his arms, bathe in your glow and feel it igniting his cells. There’s nothing like it, like being with you. 

He almost hesitates when getting into his rental, his hair falling into his face as he stares at your opened windows, the breeze flutters your curtains. 

You got back from work a few hours ago, your final moments together were spent in the bathtub as he had you once last time, touching and feeling you against his skin. Then, he carried you to bed, memorizing every inch of your face before he cooked you dinner for when you woke up, alone. 

He’s left you the keys to his car, placed the duffel bags outside your bedroom and the letter on your nightstand. Rocky was following him around until he shut the front door, locking it and sliding the key into his pocket. He could hear his quiet meows through the wood, alternating between pleading and curious, as if he were asking, “Where are you going? Why are you leaving” 

The blistering heat is going to be cruel the next few days and he fixed your air conditioner the previous night, but you won’t know until you read the letter. 

Right now, he doesn’t even know what it was. An apology, or a promise, it felt cowardly if anything—could it be his final words? Not the last one, he dreads that sheet of paper being the last piece of him in your life. 

When Steve returns to the town, his confidence in the dry dirt, and any resilience is swept away with the snap of golden fingers. Natasha nearly flew straight over it, mistaking it for being a ghost town. 

After getting off the jet, reality settles in. Less than half of the inhabitants remain, and he’s only spotted a handful, all wearing matching expressions of confusion and despair. 

He races up to your apartment, shouting your name and banging on the door but he receives no reply. 

As if the world had been sucked of colour, the yellow of your door isn’t as fresh as he remembers. The corners are crackling, and more importantly, the doorknob is different. 

The key he’s guarded feels heavy, and all of sudden, his chest constricts. The air is thin, barely supplying enough for him to stay upright before he braces himself on the doorframe. God, even the smell is different—it doesn’t feel the same, it feels off. 

That impurity wraps around his ankles, yanking him into the darkness and he reaches for something, anything, which happens to be the tattered welcome mat under his feet. The new key is shiney, gleaming up at him like a cruel reminder of how much he truly hurt you. 

He almost thinks you left too. Abandoned this town because your voracious appetite for freedom won again, and there wasn’t anything left for you here so you went to search somewhere else. 

This town was in your past, just like the rest. 

But no, this is far worse. This is a nightmare. 

There’s a cellphone on the couch, and an old television on your coffee table, the price tag still stuck to the side and it’s on, it plays reruns of the news from a neighbouring city, it’s fuzzy and full of static but he can make out the headline. 

“Billions of Mysterious Disappearances Worldwide.” 

Half of the world, half of the universe is gone. They lost. 

He forces himself to look away, wiping the tears from his eyes to focus on something else. Despite the new devices, the duffel bags are still sitting untouched, unopened and full. 

The dishes are left in the sink, trash is in the bin, and the windows are closed with the dull hum of the air conditioner filling the room. 

Then, he spots the half-empty glass of water on the table, the condensation dripping onto the wooden surface. 

Tentatively, he calls your name once more. He’s in denial, the syllables hammering into his head as he waits for you to answer—for you to appear in disbelief as he stands in your living room, dressed in a dirty navy uniform with a cut above his brow, and blood on the corner of his mouth. 

Steve waits and waits until the final plane of glass beneath his feet breaks, and with that, his heart falls into the depths. It crashes into the ground, lying in a bed of memories and anguish. 

He sinks into the couch, clenching his gloved fists, the television fades away as his final string of hope is severed. 

First Bucky, then Sam, and now you. 

Your apartment is empty, void of any life, or so he thinks before he hears quiet patters on the hardwood before a small, furry creature enters his view. 

His right ear is missing the tip, his eyes glow with interest before he darts towards Steve, leaping onto his lap. He holds that cat like he’s a lifeline, burying his nose into his fur, soaking the coat with more tears. 

There’s a collar around his neck, Inky/Rocky is carved into the metal plate, along with your address. 

There are footsteps in the hall, then Natasha is standing at the door, holding her hip with a pinched expression. She has dried blood on her cheeks, and her blonde hair is messy. 

They rushed here, barely having time to collect themselves before Steve was madly hunting for a jet. Right now, she didn’t have to ask any questions to know the answer. Her green eyes survey your apartment, the signs of your abrupt disappearance are all too obvious. 

There are only a few picture frames hooked on the walls, but all of them have Steve and you, a few even have that little cat too. Steve looks happy in those frozen moments in time, smiling so casually while always touching you—you’re in his lap, under his arm, or pressed against him until not a sliver of air is between the both of you. 

To her, this apartment feels homey, no temporary pressure hangs over, just potential. Something planned but not to the book, a simple promise for more. 

If she had to name it, she’d pick the word tomorrow. 

There was going to be more here, or there was going to be more that came from here. Whether it moved to another place, there was going to be more, that was definite. 

And meeting Steve’s eyes, she knows she’s correct in more ways than one. “I’m sorry, Steve.” 

He knows, and he is too, but not for himself.

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: and there we go !! wrote most of this one night while listening to Lana and i’m very proud of how it ended out, i haven’t written much angst here yet so here’s to the future !! And of course, free to send asks about this fic !!

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

[genshinboys]

ITTO - DATING APP HCS

WARNING: SMUT

PAIRING: ITTO X FEM READER

Where do I even begin here? Ugh, lol. Raunchy sex, lots of crack and Itto being head over heels with his Little Bumble Bee. I will just say I might be ashamed of some of the things I wrote here xD

“Plot thicker than Itto’s cock” - review courtesy of my lovely beta reader

Hypothetically speaking, how hard can it be to find a handsome but cute guy with the physique of a bodybuilder and a cock bigger than your dreams? Turns out, not that difficult at all. Especially if you aren’t particularly fussy about his intelligence level. You don’t need another Mr Smarty-Pants with a genius IQ score. Archons forbid. You have had enough of men like these. All you are hoping for right now is a good fuck. A good old pussy pleaser with a charming face to sit on. 

And that is when you swipe right, drooling not too respectfully at the sight of an Oni. An Oni going by the name of Itto, sitting a bit too proudly in his jet-black, too-tight, look-at-my-enormous-dick leather pants on his equally big and just as a black motorcycle.

The smile on his face is promiscuous, too obvious to mistake it for anything else than ‘I will ruin your pussy’ promise hidden behind the upward curve of his lips. BINGO. That’s exactly what you are looking for!

HOLY SHIT! It is a match too!

You assumed it would be more trying of an experience than that. What should you do? Hit him up? Sure, you are looking for a fuck buddy, but you still need to be a little bit..., how do they call it? Hard-to-get? Yeah, yeah. That’s it. This is what you read on the Internet after you had been dumped by your ex - ‘flirt with them, but play hard to get.' Men love the chase. You wish you had googled that before your previous relationship went up in flames together with the last shreds of your dignity. NO MORE HEARTBREAKS. You don’t need men. You just want their cocks.

DING-DING

The phone buzzes, interfering with your moment of eye-opening revelation.

From: Arataki Itto

Hey, bbby gorilla. I bet you smiled when you saw my name pop up on the screen just now :D

You re-read the message a couple of times, thinking that maybe you were too generous about the ‘doesn’t have to be that intelligent’ rule. Haven’t you seen something similar on the Internet already? You know auto-correct can be cruel, but this should be classified as straight-up meme material.

From: Arataki Itto

Baby grill*, sorry!

Should you take screenshots? Your friends would have a field day mocking you and your first failed attempt at finding a hookup. Hey, let’s give him a chance. Maybe, just maybe, it won’t be that bad.

From: Arataki Itto

Dayum, man, this shit is wild. Ignore that, yeah? So, whassup, Sweetie? Can’t believe I fished out such a pretty little thing. Look at you, fancy rags you are sporting there. Isn’t it uncomfortable to wear it every day?

You could be asking him the same thing. His dick cannot be happy, begging for more room in his male-hooker trousers.

To: Arataki Itto

Are you referring to my clothes? It is called a suit. I wear it to work.

You realise that you sound more condescending than it would be generally acceptable, considering the fact that you really want to bounce on that dick sometime soon. Itto doesn’t seem to pick up on it, though?

From: Arataki Itto

WOah, Dude. Are you some kind of businesswoman? 

Yeah, he totally did not get it. He is the most oblivious person in the whole Teyvat. No doubt. You are still counting on a good dick, though.

To: Arataki Itto

Yeah, you might say so. I run my own company.

You don’t want to reveal too much. You are not looking for a hand-in-marriage, duh. He doesn’t necessarily need to know how rich you are. Well, probably he will discover sooner or later, but that’s just not important now. You have a clear goal in mind. After a year of life resembling that of nuns, you really need to let off some steam.

From: Arataki Itto

NO SHIT! That’s so cool, man! I don’t really know much about that. But, I am also someone you might call a big shot, like yourself. Wanna know what I do? :D

You snort out loud, grateful to Archons that you didn’t get to exchange messages with this big dumb-dumb during one of your business meetings.

To: Arataki Itto

Well, let me guess. You are a fearless gang leader and a multiple champion of bug fights? :)

You hit the send button, fully expecting him to tease you back.

From: Arataki Itto

Holy shieet, no way? How did you know? You important people really have your way with things, don’t you? Sweetie, you are a keeper.

The sip of coffee you took ended up jetting out of your face, splashing on the documents and your desk.

To: Arataki Itto

No, Itto. I just read your profile info?

There is a longer period of silence in which you deal with the mess of your soaked papers while all cogs in Itto’s brain come to a screeching halt.

From: Arataki Itto

Sure, I was just fooling with you, Babe. You are a sharp one, though. Cool. Anyways, Sweets, fancy meeting me soon???

Yeah. For some inexplicable reason, you send him a short ‘yes’ answer before your common sense can convince you otherwise.

Itto is a simple guy. He has never been one for these extravagant restaurants, with menus full of names he could not even read, let alone know what they are. This is not ‘his style’ - he would remark to one of his gang members when they reasoned that maybe he should reconsider the plan for your very first date that his Oni brain had masterfully concocted.

„Listen, here, I know what I am doing, yeah? Such cute little bumblebees like her need a real man, not some old fuddy-duddy snobs. My pockets may not be full of mora, but I am a creative fella. These stuck-up buffoons could never! They simply ain’t no match for me, got it?”

Itto gave a truthful answer, fully believing in every word he said.

 Thus, he waited no further, asking you out on a date at your earliest convenience, which turns out to be today’s evening. The handsome Oni promised to pick you up at 8. To your surprise and dismay, approximately ten minutes before the appointed time, you hear some idiot yelling outside the apartment block. It is getting increasingly louder and more annoying as in addition to these screams equalling the tenacity of a slaughtered boar, there is a deafening sound of a horn that keeps blasting, and it simply won’t stop.

What a nuisance! Your hand twitches; and you would almost mess up the eyeliner if not for the years of experience in the said activity. Ahh! If only you had left work earlier, you wouldn’t be running late to your first-in-ages fucking session with the hottest Oni in the entire Teyvat. This obnoxiously loud moron will not ruin your perfect make-up for tonight’s long-awaited rendezvous. 

„Shut the hell up, you twat!

You stick your head out of the open window and let the guy know what you think about his shenanigans. Everything goes silent, and bless the Archons; you are allowed to finish your make-up in peace before receiving the call from the receptionist.

„Mrs Y/N, I’m very sorry to disturb you, but there is a..., erm, questionable-looking young gentleman in the lobby, claiming that he supposedly has a meeting with you tonight. He forgot the room number, doesn’t have his guest pass and is..., Very rowdy, to say the least. He was making a lot of noise in front of the building just now. Would you like me to maybe, uh, get rid of him?”

A few seconds pass in complete silence before you clear your throat and croak out a quiet ‘I’m coming downstairs’ answer. The receptionist was still very supportive and informed you that he could take care of things himself. You really didn’t have it in you to confess that this ‘questionable-looking young gentleman’ is your date for tonight.

You hurriedly exit the lobby, avoiding eye contact with the discombobulated staff. You hold your head high, and your mouth sets into a grim line when you halt in front of the smirking Oni, leaning smugly against the motorcycle.

„Hey, Sweets. Thought I’d have to climb the damn building to get you out of your birdcage. These dudes here are worse than Kujou Sara’s flunkies.”

Itto roars, laughing so hard at his own joke that you think you are going to die from second-hand embarrassment. Is stupidity contagious? Because if the answer is positive, then maybe you shouldn’t risk so much just for a good round of sex.

„H-Hi, Itto.”

You stutter out a stiff greeting, barely, barely, managing to convince your eyes to rest on his face rather than on the Oni’s bulging penis. Ok, he might be an idiot, but he sure is an eye-candy too.

„Dayum, man, you are such a heartthrob. How are you even single? You must be having a hard time with all of these sleazeballs hitting on you, don’t ya?

Itto praises, having no reservations to ogle your body from head to toe as he takes a step forward, and BOOM, suddenly his lips are brushing over your cheek. It is haste and innocent, but the skin caressed by his soft lips starts to burn, blossoming with a rosy colour. He withdraws unexpectedly, but your nose catches a whiff of his scent - a musky, smooth aroma. It is such an invitingly warm but not too overpowering cologne. It has this slight sweetness on top of it all, with some notes of cashmere and anise that come through first, catching you by surprise at how soothing yet powerful the Oni’s fragrance is. If you had to close your eyes, the first image that would come to your mind would be that of a ‘man’. The realest man. Your pussy throbs in excitement.

„I’ve been doing just fine, thank you.”

You respond awkwardly through the dryness of your throat. Itto flashes his teeth, rubbing at the back of his neck to subdue the sudden wave of shyness that hit him out of nowhere. What is he supposed to say now? It is just not fair for you to be so breathtakingly gorgeous. The over-grown Oni fails to understand how and why he managed to talk you into this meeting.

„You smell good.”

WOAH. All the possible things you could have said, and yet your mouth babbles out one of these observations you would rather not divulge at a first meeting. Well, at least you did not tell him how delicious his cock looks in these whorish trousers. The glass is always half full, as they say.

„Ya think?”

Itto stands there, equally jarred by the boldness of your comment, making eyes at you that leave your throat considerably drier than before. It seems that it was all he needed to come back to his ‘big oni & small brain’ attitude. You didn’t suppose it would come to this, but you actually feel relieved.

„Daww, you flatter me!”

The Oni coos at you, leaning closer, back into your personal space bubble. Crimson red eyes with a fascinating yellow gradient gaze upon you from above. The height difference leaves you dizzy with vertigo. Or maybe it is his ultra-masculine smell that muddles you up? Probably both.

„You sure make my mouth water as well, you petite Bumble Bee.”

Itto’s eyes light up, and they turn narrower with how much he is smiling at you right now.

„So, so small and cute. I bet I could fit you into my pocket, Sweets. The big Oni and his fun-size Bumble Bee. Isn’t that just supercool?!”

Your eye twitches and you are unsure if the not so well-versed Oni wanted to insult or compliment you, but you are still somehow willing to humour him. There is something about him that makes you want to rub your thighs together, irrespective of his intellectual capacity of a peanut. That is actually quite endearing if you were to admit the truth. The towering over you muscle-pig makes some animated movements with his jumbo-big hands, appearing more excited than a kid in the candy shop. Your longing eyes cling onto Itto’s massive palms, giving you all the wrong ideas that could lead to all the positive outcomes.

„Yeah. Super-duper-cool, Itto!”

You tease, but obviously, the red-eyed hottie wouldn’t savvy the laced with sarcasm words even if he used the long dusted in his brain wires.

„High-Five, man!”

He shouts, lifting his arm. Not too high though so that you can comfortably reciprocate the bonding gesture. And you do, flaunting a crooked smile and eyes that stare blankly at Itto’s XXXXL chest. Where does he buy his clothes? Your study the leather jacket - a perfect match for his skin-tight leather pants, underneath which you see a white tank-top. Yeah. 10/10 male hooker outfit confirmed.

„Well, and guess what, Sweets! It is your lucky day! Would you be able to tell why?”

Itto rubs his hands with joy, waiting eagerly for your answer.

„Oh, no. Please, enlighten me..., you biiiiiig Oni Boy.” 

He is thrown off guard again, attempting to hide the rushing to his cheeks heat by a roar of laughter that comes from the deepest depths of the Oni’s belly.

„He he he, you learn fast, Bumble Bee. ”

Itto acknowledges the use of the pet name that he consciously (or not) chose for himself a minute prior. He tries not to ponder on how well it sounds rolling off your tongue. Perhaps, it wasn’t a good idea to call himself that way. 

„I’m taking you to the bug fights!”

Your eyes widen. However, not because you feel ‘lucky’ as stated by the big-tiddied man.

„B-Bug fights?”

Parroting Itto is the best you can do, as you experience a temporary lack of grey matter in your brain. His lack of intelligence has already started rubbing off on you.

„Heck, yeah, Bumble Bee! Authentic BUG FIGHTS! Can you believe it? I’m taking you there on my turbo fast baby too!”

Regardless of his enthusiasm, your face twists into yet another pitiful expression when Itto points to the monstrous motorcycle behind him.

„Not to spoil your plan, Itto, but, um, I-I don’t think I’m dressed for the occasion.”

You peer at him, hoping to wiggle your butt out of this predicament. The Oni regards you with his empty-looking eyes. He worries at his bottom lip, a tell-tale sign of him thinking long and haarddd about how to save the night.

„Uh, how about you come upstairs? We could jus---,”

Itto claps his hands together, destroying your plan to lure him into your apartment and jump on his dick.

„Hey, don’t ya worry your pretty head about it, Bumble Bee! Itto will always come up with the best solutions.”

The red-eyed Oni shimmies out of his leather jacket and sinks to his knees. Wooah, wait a minute? What’s going on? Your eyes shoot to the entrance, where you spot a confused receptionist. He is looking at you with a ‘blink twice if you need my help’ message written across his face. 

„Grab my shoulders. I will cover you up with my jacket so we can hike that skirt up.”

You gasp for air like a fish out of water.

„E-Excuse me?!”

Itto swathes your buttocks with the garment, tying the sleeves together to secure the jacket on your hips.

„It’s all fine, Sweets. I’ll help ya! Just hold onto me nice and tight! Your peach is safe with me.”

His big Oni hands grab the flimsy skirt and push it higher and higher up your thighs, almost revealing your panties! Your body sways as if you were fighting for life on a rocked by the storm boat. The man has no control over his strength! 

„Itto, n-no!”

„Easy, easy. I’m a gentleman.”

Wanting to prove his words, the handsome Oni closes his eyes, further roaming his hands over your exposed skin. You clutch onto his muscular back when Itto continues the uneven battle with the skirt. You really don’t want to focus on how hot and soft his palms feel against the delicate skin of your thighs, but you lose this time as well, succumbing a little deeper into lust.

„And all done!”

Itto grins proudly when he juts his chin up to look at your flushed face. 

„Let’s go, Bumble Bee. We are running late.”

His gigantic hand swallows yours as the deliriously happy big boy leads you towards the vehicle.

Your first date turned out to be everything but you screaming in pleasure while struggling to take Itto’s oni dick. The hook-up ended without a hook-up as you were dragged to the ‘Bug Fights Arena’ - quoting the ecstatic Itto, which in reality was nothing short of a few make-shift stone platforms with a variety of Onikabutos performing some wild martial-art moves. Itto could not stop babbling about these yucky-looking insects, passionately holding your hand through the entire duration of the duels you were (un)lucky to witness. Unable to contain the bottling inside emotions, it happened that Itto squeezed you too hard. You had to remind him that he was still holding your hand and that it would be nice if he could stop squashing it to a pulp. The oblivious Oni apologised profusely and lifted the palm to his lips to pepper-kiss the skin, only to almost cut off your blood flow a few moments later when he again forgot about how strong he is.

He bought you popcorn and your favourite Tricolour Dango. The handsome Oni was feeding you with the chopsticks, every now and then passing you the extra large boba tea that you both shared. Indirect kiss? Pretty much, yeah. Neither of you seemed to mind. Itto wiped you clean with his thumb whenever he missed your mouth because of how much he was focusing on these stupid bug fights. 

„Ah, sorry, Bumble Bee, my bad. Here, lemme fix that for ya.”

Itto’s crimson pupils were glued to your lips as he was wiping the sweet sugar powder.

„Why do you call me this way?”

You queried, blushing slightly when he licked the sticky powder off his thumb. You two seemed to grow comfortable with one another in a remarkably short time.

„Huh?”

Itto mused, shifting his eyes back to you.

„Why is it, Bumble Bee?”

Itto smirked impishly.

„It is simple, Sweets. I love all the bugs...,”

He inched closer, his lips halting right next to your ear.

„...and bumblebees are the fluffiest and thickest of them all.”

You could have sworn the Oni deliberately let out a warm puff of air to watch you shiver and squirm in your seat.

„Very sexy, just like you and easily my favourite out of all these tiny creatures.”

He whispered, chuckling playfully when you craned your neck to peer at him with a raised eyebrow.

„Excuse me, but I’ve never been compared to a yucky bug. Was that a compliment?”

Itto guffawed like a big dummy, scooping you closer to himself with his large oni forelimb. His finger poked your nose, which further threw you off balance.

„You see? That’s what I’m talking about. The sexiest and cutest little Queen of all the bees.”

You didn’t ask him to elucidate what he meant by it, but you would be a liar if you didn’t admit that it felt nice to know that at least in Itto’s eyes, you are the juiciest bee in the entire hive.

From: Big Boi Itto

Hey Bumble Bee, hope your day is as nice as your butt :)

Despite the lack of any activities that would fall into the broad category of SEXUAL; your friendship with the Oni doesn’t appear to lose its momentum. In fact, the big dum dum - aka infamous Arataki Itto doesn’t cut you any slack, stubbornly yet steadily heading straight for your heart.

The message you read out during one of these most boring office meetings is a prime example of how well he has been faring. You can’t do much about the silly smile that creeps on your face at yet another Itto’s cheesy pick-up line.

To: Big Boi Itto

Hey, Big Boy <3 Unfortunately, I’m stuck in a meeting. It’s so dull. You have no idea :(

It is hard to believe, but you catch yourself missing the company of the scatterbrained handsome oni idiot. You sigh, a little bit heartsick? The guy delivering the presentation averts your bored and annoyed-looking eyes, spitting out facts and numbers like a robot. Normally, you would be very interested in what he has to say, it is your company, after all. Yet, today you can’t stop daydreaming and getting distracted.

From: Big Boi Itto

Shit, trapped in the same room with a few stuffed shirts? Ugh. My poor little Bumble Bee, you must be bored out of your mind! I can come and kidnap you if you want :D

Another round of giggles threatens to escape your mouth, and you have to hide behind the documents to remain professional. Yeah, these guys sure are a bunch of stuffed shirts. Itto is not mistaken. They all but pale in comparison to Itto’s charismatic personality.

To: Big Boi Itto

I wish. I really wish I could! How about meeting me in the evening?

You send the hit button and start wondering, is it still only about sex? You prefer not to think about it too much, afraid to arrive at answers that would be too hard to accept.

From: Big Boi Itto

Oh, yes, girl! Thought you would never ask, Bumble Bee *smirks* I have something I want to show you tonight, so I’m taking you to my place. I can send you a little sneak peek :D

To: Big Boi Itto

BRING IT ON <3

You respond in a heartbeat, relieved to be entertained by the one-of-a-kind Arataki Itto - the funny but a tad too silly PRO comedian.

From: Big Boi Itto

IMAGE.PNG

Look at that big boy. Impressive, huh?

You download the image and immediately have to cover the gaping in utter shock mouth to muffle the scream bubbling in your throat. A deep red flush raises to your cheeks and spreads lower, much much lower, making it feel like your stomach basically sank to your knees. You are staring at the ONI’S DICK. At the gargantuan piece of Itto’s erected flesh that urgently begs to be swallowed by your pussy right this instant.

„Continue without me.”

You choke out a feeble sounding command that fills the room with awkward silence and stupefied eyes that stick to your face like stink on shit.

You don’t suppose you have ever been in such a desperate need for a moment of privacy in one of the company’s bathroom stalls when you slam the door shut and desperately reach for the throbbing pussy to stuff it full of your fingers. 

Itto’s dick pic.

And nothing else matters to you now.

How did it all come to this? Your forehead creases the longer you look at the KO’ed Oni, lying like a lifeless log in his bed. The second date also did not progress the way you had thought it would. First of all, how could you have known that a man of Itto’s size could be knocked out by a little bit of chocolate cake? You feel like bawling your eyes out, blaming yourself for the current state of affairs. You move closer to the suffering man, evenly spreading the duvet over Itto’s large body. Your thoughts spiral obsessively, over and over again replaying the events of tonight’s meeting that led to the Oni’s inevitable demise.

1. Out of politeness, as you stubbornly convinced yourself to believe, you came up with the brightest idea to surprise the Oni with a homemade chocolate cake. Sure, many would deem it stupid and unnecessary, especially that he was only meant to become your booty call. However, you could not fight the ‘I-want-to-be-a-good-girlfriend’ whispers at the back of your head.

2. You whipped up the most delicious, flinger-licking good chocolate cake and arrived at his doorstep before the appointed time, with the image of his gigantic Oni cock forever etched in your memory.

3. The conversation flew naturally, without any hitches or awkward pauses that could have been caused by the shockingly nice, however still very unexpected dick pic.

4. Itto was very happy to taste the sweet treat, stuffing his belly full until you practically saw the bottom of the baking pan and there were no crumbs left. 

5. He was eating and eating, showing you his collection of bugs that live happily in the glass houses that Itto had built himself.

„W-Wait, wait, Itto. What photo are you talking about?”

„The snap I sent you today.”

„But you didn’t send me any bugs? You send me your-”

OH FUCK.

„Now, you see that big boy, Baby? Yeah, I’m so proud of him. The biggest and strongest Onikabuto that I’ve laid my hands on. It looks even bigger in reality than in that photo I sent you, right? A real monster!”

6. The realisation hit you precisely the moment Itto’s soy bean allergy kicked in for good, resulting in him almost fainting and getting all delirious and incoherent. The only thing you managed to piece together from itto’s incomprehensible noises was that it must have been triggered by the soy milk, which you had used to prepare the chocolate cake.

7. The grand finale? You had to call your family doctor, who rushed to the Oni’s house with the allergy shots. The poor Oni fell asleep like a baby and hasn’t moved an inch since he got poisoned.

Up until now.

Grunts, pants and whines.

Itto’s eyes groggily crack open, right away landing on your tense facial features. 

„Itto? H-How do you feel? Are you ok?”

The Oni blinks a few times, noticing your small hands wrapped securely around his larger one. He grins, revealing the pearly-white sharp canines that would undoubtedly feel amazing playing with the skin of your neck. WOah, hold on. You almost killed the man, and you still can’t control the horny? SHAME ON YOU!

„Baby,`s fine. I am all fine.”

Itto sits on the bed, pulling your hand to his mouth to kiss it a couple of times before he flashes you the signature Oni smirk, hoping to relax you.

„It was just a little virus in the system, nothing to be worried about. Hey, Bumble Bee, what’s with the long face?”

Itto tries his best to cheer you up, but the tears start pricking at your eyes.

„It’s my fault, all my fault.”

You choke on a sob, and violent little shivers take over your chin. His oni fingers grasp the jaw delicately. They essentially cover half of your face. Itto’s heart picks up the speed. He is not prepared to see his little Bumble Bee cry. 

„No, no, no, hey, Baby, look at me, look me in the eyes.”

Itto instructs in a warm tone, although internally, it feels as if somebody was ripping his heart out alive. Both of his hands cup your face that adorably drowns in their bulky size, awakening longing and other emotions whose names are yet unfamiliar to Itto. All he knows is that he can’t bear to see you cry.

„You did nothing wrong, Baby. You are perfect.”

And then, it happens. Itto’s lips brush over your eyelids first before you feel yourself being pressed against the warmth of his chest, against the solid muscles of his abdomen that draw tight once your soft finger pads rest on the Oni’s firm body. He is so warm, or rather hot, scorching hot like the rays of sunshine in the peak of summer. It takes you a while before your synapses fire properly to understand that Itto is kissing you. He is kissing you as if the act itself could possess your soul, and, to be frank, it isn’t too far from the truth.

Itto moans into your lips, effectively turning your brain into a Jell-O with his unabashed display of want, thundering against his Oni veins. He could choke you to death with these hands that swathe your face and neck, and you wouldn’t even notice. He kisses your lower lip, dragging it slowly between his sharp teeth and your ability to reason flies out of the window.

„Baby-”

Itto pants, and you can’t comprehend why his lips are suddenly so far away from yours? You tug at his tank top, attempting to yank him close, but let’s be honest, the effort is futile. A small mouse lunging at an elephant would be more successful than you now.

„W-Why did you stop, why-,”

Itto places a sloppy kiss on the centre of your lips to shush you.

„I need you to know that I’ve never had more fun than with you. All the other girls wanted me for my looks. Ya know, big Oni and his big cock, this type of shit, I was so fed up.”

Itto fires the shots, wanting to be utterly transparent with you. His hand wanders to the small of your back, and he effortlessly lifts you, placing you in his lap. Your body arches into his, fingers getting tangled in his white Oni mane as your bodies mould together perfectly.

„Nobody ever listened to me. These chicks, they all just wanted to, uhm..., You know what I mean.”

You nod, rocking into his pelvis, which sends a jolt of electricity down your spine. Itto’s fingers sink into the fat of your hips. He breathes out laboriously, eating you up with his gaze in a most affectionate manner despite the sparks of need that light up his crimson pupils.

„Then, when it was all over, they left me each time. But you are different. You went to see the Bug Fights with me and, and you, uhm, you took care of me when the allergy knocked me down, he he he...,”

Itto hides his embarrassment behind a forced chuckle, all the time gauging your reactions. He doesn’t want to scare his Bumble Bee away. He cannot afford to lose you when you are all he has ever dreamt about, if not more.

„Thank ya for that, all of it.”

He finishes barely above a whisper, peering sheepishly at you.

A thick lump forms itself in your throat, and you swallow hard at the most beautiful and honest words you’ve ever heard coming from a man. Itto can be a big and intimidating Oni, but deep down he sure is just an adorable and soft idiot. 

„Will you cuddle with me for a bit? I still feel a tiiiny bit drowsy. Will that be ok, huh?”

A tear-jerking question forces you to bury your head in his chest. You pull him close to you, failing to control the series of weird sniffles.

„You are such a dummy, Itto. Go to sleep.”

You hold him close, making a mental promise to protect his fragile Oni heart.

Unconventional situations require equally unusual measures. After a good couple of weeks of dating the Oni; having seen dozens of bug fights, having travelled hundreds of kilometres seated behind the Oni’s broad back with your hands securely wrapped around his ripped abdomen as he was taking you places on his motorcycle, and finally having pushed through a good share of Itto’s neglected boners, you know the time has come. 

It is another one of these cosy ‘Netflix and chill’ evenings, with the big Oni boy crashing at your place and breathing life into you after a long day spent at the office. He would come, crack a few of his dumb Oni jokes, tell you a story from his not so shady gangster life and eat half of your fridge while never forgetting to spoon-feed you as he devours anything that doesn’t contain soy beans. Not that he would find anything like that in your pantry. It is worth mentioning that since the gruesome incident, you have gone ‘soy-bean-free’, totally manifesting your support for the Oni’s condition. Itto has been nothing but the sweetest little (ok, not so little) ray of sunshine, and you will not wait even a day longer to take your relationship to the next level.

However, the Oni has absolutely no clue about your plan when he enters your apartment with a bag full of snacks for tonight’s cuddling & watching TV date.

„Bumble Bee, I am ho-,”

Itto feels his throat jamming, and the shopping bag slips out of his hand, landing on the floor.

„Hi, Big Boy.”

Itto really, really tries not to look. He does his absolute utmost not to stare open-mouthed at the bumblebee tank top and shorts but fails nonetheless. The almost-sheer, ultra-fine set emphasizes each and every delicious curve of your body and..., Ohhh, Celestia help him! Is he seeing nipples poking through the paper-thin fabric? Are you not wearing any underwear today? The bumblebee print in the middle of your boobs stretches, revealing the busty shape of your chest, leaving very little to the Oni’s imagination. Itto’s brain simmers like an egg on a frying pan when he drops his gaze lower, down to the skimpy shorts with a lacy hem digging into the flesh of your thighs. Camel-toe? Oh, noooo, please no. A stifled sound of a tortured to death beetle is wrung out of the Oni when you part your thighs and pat your belly, smiling softly at the almost-deceased Itto. There he sees your fanny, your cutest little pussy lips swelling thickly against the barely-covering your peach shorts. Your breasts shake and jiggle, flowing like the rolling waves in the sea once you lift yourself higher on the sofa to have a better look at your afraid to move or breathe Oni boyfriend. 

„Come here and cuddle. What are you standing there for, hmm?”

You pat the belly again, making it clear that you want him between your thighs, with his head resting on these curvaceous boobs and dick nestled in your labia, hugged tightly by the puffiest pussy flaps Itto has ever seen. He sucks in a sharp breath, sounding pretty much like the Oni demon he is when your bum moves from side to side, inviting him to alleviate the yearning in his groin that stirs his dick to full hardness right in front of your eyes. Itto knows you can see it. There is just no way with how much his cock-head swells when you just as much as come too close to the touch-starved Oni. You have been nice enough not to make fun of his over-the-roof sexual drive, for which he is very, very grateful.

„Itto? Is something wrong?”

You nag him, nag him to come and put that thickened cock on your exposed cunt.

„I, uh, I just love that look, Baby is all. Got me a little shaken for a moment, yeah.”

Itto stutters out and bends in half to pick up the bag with snacks, which gives him a top-tier, almost a bird’s eye view over your plump little hole. He hears you giggle at has to stop to adjust the pants that start to annoy the shit out of him and his bulging in need penis.

„I’m so happy you like it.”

You sing song, and Itto’s eyes are heavy on you, on your nipples that stand at full attention, calling him to suck them till he tastes your sweet milky-bee nectar on his tongue.

„Like it? No, Baby. I’m losing my mind over it.”

Itto discards the bag on the coffee table, uninterested in the box of ice cream that must be turning into a wet and sticky puddle, very much like the content of his boxers.

Another gut-wrenching, dick-choking giggle. Itto’s eyes are absent, feral as if he has lost the remaining brain cells that so far have helped him to keep a pretty good lid on things. 

„I have missed you so much, Big Boy. Come and crush me with this Oni body of yours.”

That is too much for Itto. Way too fucking much. It is like his whole body has already started to sizzle with need, and you are just adding fuel to the fire, making him burn. Leaning down slowly, his eyes are following yours. 

„Bumble Bee, yer asking so nicely, how can I say no~”

Itto’s eyes sink to your unguarded hole as he slides that monster of a cock between your spread legs. You haven’t touched him, and he feels ultra-hard. You are guessing it must be borderline painful, even. You bite your lip. Excitement paints your cheeks in a rosy colour. You suddenly feel yourself drawn into a kiss as Itto positions himself. You lift your legs up, digging the heels into the meat of Itto’s hard ass to force him to lower his hips. His fat cock brushes over your tiny cunt, and the Oni’s muscular pecs push into your much softer and so much more delicate boobies. Itto really is crushing you, taking your breath away as he rests his entire body weight on your petite one, merely granting your wish. 

„I might sting Ya a little bit, Hun. Your Papa Bee has some issue down here.”

Yeah. You can feel that ‘issue’ very well. It’s your turn to moan as you writhe underneath Itto to rub all over his cock, dragging you both into that lust-driven hell.

„S-Shit, Babe, uh-, can you like, f-fuck, stop fidgeting so much?” 

Itto’s cock jumps when you laugh at him like a fucking brat that needs to be punished.

„Make me, Papa Bee.” 

It jumps again, thrashing against your weeping hole. The Oni could snap you in half like a stick if he lost control over his actions. You both know it, yet you continue teasing his dick, to the point he can’t take it anymore, so he grabs your waist with his hand. It looks ridiculously big on you, covering at least half of your stomach. Itto kisses you, no, basically devours your lips, naive enough to think that it will shut you up. Damn, that Oni blood circulating in his veins, that steroid-fed cock and his ridiculously overgrown body---,

„Mhmm, Itto, you-you are leaking on my pussy.”

You mumble the words into his mouth, eliciting an animalistic groan from your demon-like boyfriend. Drool dribbles down your cheek because of how stubbornly Itto is sliding his tongue against yours, pushing it down your throat as if he intended to choke you with it. Thinking very little of the consequences of your actions, your hands anchor in his hair, only to grope the pair of the Oni’s red and spiky horns. The man whines - whines like a beast in heat. 

„What if your Bumble Bee wants to be stung, huh?”

That is about the time when Itto fucking loses it, loses it for good.

„Ya little Flower is thirsty for Papi’s cock huh? You’ll fucking sob and beg when I make you sit on it and take every fucking inch into that greedy little cunt.”

HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!

„Yes, Itto, please, yes!”

The Oni growls, angry, out of his mind, totally gone. He tugs at the bumblebee tank top, tearing it down your body with his black claws. Your perky globes jiggle from side to side, and he lunges at them, stuffing his face full of your boob as if he wanted to eat it. The wet and long oni tongue laps at your bud, circling it, sucking and kissing without a moment's break to swallow the spit that makes your chest wet. Fireworks explode below your navel, and you keep pushing your cunt onto his thickened, swollen and licking pre-cum gigantic cock. He reaches for the other breast with his palm, kneading it and fumbling as he moans and groans, giving out these sounds that resemble the heat of a battle rather than some tit-sucking & vanilla sex.

„I’ll stuff you so full you will feel me in your fucking lungs. That’s how badly your Papa Bee will sting you, Hun.”

Ok. That threat actually intimidates you, especially when the sex-drunk Oni kneels before you and pulls his pants down. You can only watch in silence as his gigantic cock falls out like a felled Otogi wood. It is so heavy it bends under its own weight, looking as if it wanted to scare you and ruin any other sex you have ever had with anybody. Scratch that - it is already better than anything you have ever experienced. Your eyes glaze over, and your eyelid twitches nervously.

„Huh? You suddenly forgot how to use your mouth, Bumble Bee?”

The oni roars, laughing so heartily you think he might fall off the couch. You shake your head in denial, pussy burning and throbbing so badly you have half a mind to impale yourself on this pulsing slab of meat, even if it would probably make you cry in pain.

„Papa Bee will remind Ya, Flower~, just give it time. First, I shall taste your sweet honey juice. It smells so nice my mouth is salivating"

Itto is more merciful with your shorts, scraping them off you with his claws instead of ripping them to shreds just like he did with your tank top. He crumples them in his fist and brings them to his grinning face to take a whiff of your pussy. He lets out a lewd moan, all the time holding them to his nose and inhaling as if he was a junkie.

„Sweetest nectar for Papa Bee, only, only mine.”

Itto snarls in his pussy-high trance, baring the pearly fangs that could pierce through your skin like a dagger through butter. He goes down on you, rubbing, nibbling and licking his way from your quivering thighs up to the honey-leaking hole. Itto’s furnace-warm hands reach to your back, cupping your full cheeks and squeezing.

„Fucking delish. Booty worth of a Queen Bee. So supple and tender.”

Itto watches entranced how your legs shake and your hips move in tiny, little thrusts, telling him clearly what you want. Oh, and Itto will deliver. Yes, he will.

Still clasping your bottom, he tugs you closer and nudges in with his nose, spreading your pussy lips as if he was opening a flower bud which hasn’t bloomed yet. 

„Oh, Itto! Yes!”

„Mhmm!”

Itto groans back, dipping his tongue and swirling it low, reaching for the depths of your hole.

„Gimme all your juice, all that gooey sweetness on my tongue, Bumble Bee~.”

The Oni demands, caressing the throbbing nub of flesh, swallowing the tasty and warm essence that starts overflowing his mouth, trickling down his jaw. He licks into the lips of your sex, drinking, slurping and breathing in the syrupy-flavoured liquid.

He dines on you until you whimper in over-stimulation until you try to push him away as you climax again and again. The sofa is a mess - wet from the mix of the Oni’s saliva and your cum.

„I can’t, no-no m-more, no! Please! Itto-ahh, no!”

You are dying and living. Flying in the Oni’s arms. Spinning and shaking. 

„What? Isn’t it what you wanted, Flower?”

Itto chuckles at your misery, having kissed your pussy for one last time. He faces you, licking the remnants of your squirt from his sticky lips. You are suffocating, barely able to breathe and even lying seems too difficult for you.

„I ain’t even started with you yet, Hun.”

Without a word of warning, the big Oni holds you by your waist and lifts you as if you weighed nothing. A fucking inflated doll, at best. Itto fancies switching your positions, and soon after, he is the one resting on his back while he has you seated on top of him. He bends his arm and puts it under his head to get himself comfortable. Meanwhile, you are trembling and shaking, clinging to his torso for stability as the world whirls chaotically before your eyes.

„C’mon, Flower. Mouth on Papa Bee’s sting, quick.”

He pats your bum a few times to make you regain your consciousness, a gentle reminder that he is still going to fuck you, regardless of how tired you are. 

„Don’t make me repeat myself, m’kay?”

You nod, sliding down his body with no strength in muscles left. Itto’s right hand is securely wrapped around your hip to make sure you won’t slip away.

„Yes, just like that. A few licks, Sweets. Trust me. It is for your own good. We wouldn’t like to rip your pussy with my dick, right?”

You nod again, more frantically. Although, you are worried that no amount of lube or saliva could save your cunt from getting destroyed tonight. You peer at your overgrown lover for one last time. The demon with horns and his gargantuan cock. Yes. This is what you see when you dip your head and open your mouth as wide as you can to take him into your mouth. Well, this is an exaggeration. It should be said that you try to take some part of the bulging piece of flesh into your cracking and numb from the over-stretch jaw. Itto hisses, irrespective of how badly it’s going so far. His hips buck and his cock jumps in your mouth as soon as your tongue comes into contact with the throbbing monster. 

„Fuck, Flower. Don’t suck too hard. I wanna cum in your tiny little cunt. Ya hear me? Papa Bee will be nasty if you don’t behave like a good girl.”

You whimper and blink twice to let him know that you are not going to risk being too bratty this time. For now, at least.

„Good little Bumble Bee. So perfect, aren’t Ya?”

Your head bobs up and down, sucking with just a reasonably decent amount of pressure, careful not to anger the Oni as your gag reflex is being tested like never before. You slurp just as loud as Itto did, gliding smoothly up and down the girthy penis. He moans and groans prettily, and your cunt starts aching for his touch yet again. Just how much of a whore are you? This man has turned your brain into sex-craving mush.

„That’s it. That’s enough.”

Itto pants heavily, writing underneath you.

„Sit on Papa’s cock now, huh? I think I have to be in you now.”

Uh-huh. It’s about the damn time.

You gasp when he pulls you close by your hip, forcing you to sit with your pussy hovering over the reddened slab of veiny meat. Trembling with fear and excitement, you close your eyes, attempting to control the agonizingly slow descent of your hips onto Itto’s impatient length. You are mind-blowingly hot on top of him. The handsome Oni rakes your hair back to look at your glossy eyes and slutty face. He doesn’t want to be that mean to you today. You have been such a docile little Bumble Bee that he decides he can help you swallow up that big boy. Itto’s hands dig into the fat of your hips, lowering you down on his dick, inch by inch, sob after sob.

„Itto you are too big! Too fucking big!”

You cry and cry, wondering how long you have been at it already? Why hasn’t he bottomed out yet? How many more inches do you have to take in? You look at him, irritated and disheartened. You punch his chest with your tiny fist, making the tiddy bounce. Itto coos, not fully able to hide his amusement. Yet, he lets you take your time. After all, he could simply split you open and pull your organs to pieces with a single thrust of his cock.

„Shush, Flower. You are doing so well. We are almost there~.”

Fat tears roll down your cheeks as you feel the burn of your hole being stretched, elongated and expanded to accommodate the Oni’s penis. You feel him reaching the undiscovered depths of your gummy walls, brushing over such intimate places that your whole groin buzzes with need.

„J-just fucking help me! Help me Itto! Do something finally, you idiot!”

Your heart-wrenching sob tugs at Itto’s heartstrings. He doesn’t answer as his mouth is being busy emitting a guttural moan when his hips piston forward, right into your tight cunt with such strength that you would nearly topple over if not for Itto’s grip on your hips.

Archons above!

This is insane. He must be reaching up to your throat. There is just no way he isn’t with how full it feels, with how big the re-appearing bulge in your stomach is when he slams into you, making you jump on him as if you were riding an enraged bull.

„Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!”

You scream, not even bothering to hold onto the non-stop moving Oni. Itto uses you like his cock-sleeve, pushing you up and down his dick with crazy speed, filling you so well that white spots and stars begin to dance everywhere around you as another whine-wringing orgasm explodes in your groin.

„Yes, cover my dick with your honeyed juices, cream on me, Baby.”

Itto’s abdomen muscles have been fighting very hard to deny himself the release, wanting to utterly wreck you before he paints your insides white with his thick spurts of cum. He has been struggling a lot to remain in control, and now is the right time to reward himself for all his hard work.

„Gonna, cum Bumble Bee. Hang in there for a little while longer.”

Easier said than done, you think briefly, before Itto thrusts even faster and deeper into your dripping, abused hole, chasing his high like a wild animal. It takes a few more precise snaps of his hips, and the gossamer liquid starts jetting out of his gigantic cock-head, practically spilling out of your loosened hole as it can’t take everything Itto has stored for you in his heavy balls.

It seems like you have lost consciousness for a short while, regaining your clarity to being spooned by Itto in your own bed. He is nuzzling into your neck with his nose, massaging the bruised hips with a circular movement of his chubby fingers over your skin. Itto purrs when your body stirs in his arms.

„Bumble Bee, Ya ok?”

Itto’s tone is laced with worry.

„Have I been too harsh on you? Sorry, I kinda lost it there. Sorry, Baby.”

He really sounds apologetic, making butterflies explode in your stomach. You shift slightly to take a look at his face.

„No, no. I loved it. You are amazing, Itto.”

You kiss his forehead tenderly, relieved to see the comeback of the Oni’s cocky smirk.

„Also, I didn’t mean to, erm, call you an idiot. That was, uh, you know...,”

You trail off, and Itto chuckles like the goof he is.

„All fine, Sweets. No offence taken. You might have called me an idiot, but your pussy was telling me a different story.”

The Oni comments proudly, flashing more of his sharp teeth. Your face flushes bright red, and you punch his shoulder in retaliation.

„Shut up! You really are an idiot!”

Itto doesn’t let you say another word, claiming your lips passionately. 

„I might be an idiot, but I am only your idiot, Bumble Bee.”

MASTERLIST

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[captain-tch]

Actions Speak Louder Than Words (The Walking Dead x Reader)

You had been dubbed a liability for your inability to speak. When you encounter two strangers outside a nursery, they see beyond that for who you really are - a fighter.

You had been on your own for weeks. It was a blessing really; the last group you'd been with didn't fully understand you. No one took the time to sit beside you and have a conversation with you, just dubbing you as a freak. If they had tried to talk to you, if you wrote your responses and let them read them, maybe things would have ended differently.

All you know is that food had been running out. And you were another mouth to feed.

It was your own fault really. You knew that they didn't think fondly of you. You just got caught up in the euphoria when they asked you to join some of them on a run. Being naive, you thought that they'd finally realised you could contribute.

The naivety washed away when you watched the car pull away down the road. Panic surged within you - you tried to chase the car, hands frantically waving above your head to let them know you were there. The car quickly became a blob in the distance.

A sob caught in your throat. They'd left you all alone. In a foreign place, with a flimsy knife and empty backpack.

You couldn't even curse them out.

That's how you ended up here, leaning against the side of an old abandoned nursery. You were squeezing the last few drops from your water bottle, cracked lips lapping up as much as you could. You couldn't hide your disappointment when the bottle crunched beneath your hands.

Humans could only survive for a few days without water. You just prayed that you could find some soon.

A loud rumbling bounced around the trees. You stood up straighter, ears perked. It had been so long since you had heard a noise like that, it took a few moments to pin point what it was. A motorcycle.

Instantly, all of your muscles tensed. A motorcycle could only mean people, and from your experience, people only meant trouble. Hands shaking, you shouldered your backpack, quickly creeping around the side of the building. You pressed yourself as close to the brick as humanly possible, breathing slowly in and out.

Gravel crunched under the motorcycle wheels. The engine purred for a few more seconds, finally giving out once the two people stepped off the bike. Casting a cautious glance around the corner, you spotted a man and a woman preparing their weapons.

You gulped.

The woman carried a pistol, her cocking it. A distinct click of the safety reminded you to stay far away from her. The man looked even more terrifying, a stony look on his face, a crossbow poised in his hands.

Before you knew it, they had disappeared into the nursery. A sigh of relief slipped past your lips. Counting to five on your hands, you peered around the corner again, carefully withdrawing from the shadows.

Your gaze was drawn to the motorcycle. If you could somehow figure out how to turn it on, you could drive away from here. You could find some water, some food, maybe a safe place to stay for a while. The blisters on your feet throbbed at the thought of getting on the bike and driving away.

You caressed the handlebars. Maybe luck was on your side.

"Hey, wha' ya think ya doin'?"

You spun around, hands instinctively raised above your head. The man with the crossbow was bounding towards you, his weapon raised high.

"I asked ya a question!"

Luck was definitely not on your side. Behind the man, the woman lingered, gun focused on you. Her eyes assessed your quaking form, gaze softening watching your lips quiver.

This is one of the times you were grateful you couldn't speak; at least they wouldn't hear the shake in your voice.

"Daryl -" The woman moved forward, pushing his crossbow down. He glared at her from the corner of his eye. "Give her a minute."

Daryl lowered the crossbow, huffing something unintelligible under his breath.

You slowly moved your raised hands in front of you. Daryl's hawk gaze watched every movement you made.

You gestured a finger to yourself, then at your mouth. You waved your hand horizontally, praying that they could understand you. The woman stared at you blankly.

"Stop speakin' in tongues and tell us wha' the hell ya were gonna do with my bike!"

Fighting back the thin film coating your eyes, you tugged your backpack off of your shoulders. Instantly the two strangers drew their weapons up, sights focused on you as you opened the pack wide enough for them to see. Not that there was much to see, with only a singular granola bar in there, empty water bottle and notepad and pen.

Slowly you pulled the notepad and pen out. You flipped it to a new page, feeling their eyes sear into you as you wrote.

I can't speak.

You gestured the page to them. It took them a second to process the words. They said nothing. Taking this as a sign to continue, you began to write again.

I'm sorry for trying to steal your bike.

Daryl scoffed, shaking his head. "Ya better be sorry. Ya even know how to ride the damn thing?"

You shook your head, writing again. I was desperate.

Daryl and the woman exchanged a look. The woman turned to you, looking at you again. "Can you fight?"

I'm not dead, am I?

The woman smiled at the words. "No, you're not."

"Maggie, we need ta get back." Daryl moved towards his bike, letting the engine purr. "It was nice meetin' ya, but we got to get goin'."

Maggie wandered over to Daryl, their voices drowned out by the noise of the engine. Besides the word, 'governor', you couldn't make out much of what they were saying. Daryl nodded begrudgingly.

"Hey, what's your name?" Maggie shouted at you.

Y/N.

"We have a camp a few miles back. You're welcome to come join us." You pondered the offer, taking in Maggie's kind smile and Daryl's averted gaze. In another life, you would have instantly jumped at the opportunity to join other people.

Last time you did that, you were abandoned.

Smiling, you shook your head, walking in the opposite direction.

"Hey," Maggie ran to catch up with you, grabbing your arm. You quickly shrugged her off. "Just in case you change your mind."

She placed a map in your hand, walking back towards Daryl. On it, an area had been circled, with the words 'if you change your mind' scribbled besides it. You weakly smiled at the pair, pocketing the map and starting the search for shelter for the night.

~

You quickly realised you should have taken Maggie up on her offer. No sooner had you left them, you found a new group of people. A group of people that didn't have the kindness of Maggie's eyes. Instead a mask had been placed on the man's face, disguising the ill intents behind seemingly nice actions.

His smile made you feel sick.

When he found the map, the mask dropped.

Another punch landed on your cheek. Fire spread over your cheek, a coppery taste filling your mouth. Before you had time to recover, another punch landed in your gut. Instinctively you doubled over, wheezing.

"Tell me who gave you this map."

You stared up at the man from below the lids of your eyes. The bald man seemed to take pleasure in the blood spluttering past your lips, grinning like a cheshire cat at the sight. His southern country accent did nothing to change your preconception of him.

"Let me refresh your memory," the man crouched down next to you, pulling out the map Maggie gave you. He pointed at the area circled in black ink. "This, right here. We've been looking for this for a while, and you just waltz in here with the coordinates stamped on your forehead?"

You shrugged. His smug face was mere inches from yours. A dash of rebellion sparked in you, and in one second you were spitting blood at his face. The man just laughed, wiping the red across his forehead. "For someone who doesn't talk you sure have a lot to say."

The man tossed the map to the side, sliding a notebook and pen towards you. "Tell us who gave you the map."

Your hands were tied to the chair, the notepad and pen just within reach. Your attention was captivated by the pen. Your fingers stretched for the pen, cradling it in your hand. The man smiled, the victory clear on his face.

You waited for him to lean down to strike.

The rope cut into your wrists as you jabbed the pen upwards, drawing a jagged line of ink across the man's face. He stumbled back a step, a knife at your throat in the next moment. You bit back disappointment, not seeing even a single speck of blood on his face. If you had drawn blood, maybe it wouldn't feel so anti climatic to have your throat slashed by this redneck.

"You ever gonna to tell us?"

You shook your head defiantly.

"Then we don't have any use for you." The man picked up the discarded map, pocketing it. "Thank you for your cooperation."

Your stomach plummeted as he walked away, the door firmly shutting closed behind him. Your mind whirred with endless scenario's. They didn't need you anymore. When people stopped needing you, they left you. Simple as. But now, the images you conjured in your head suggested there was no way of this ending with you being alive.

It seemed ironic that the reason you had turned down Maggie was the reason you ended up here. If anything, this experience solidified a known truth - people couldn't be trusted. When you had arrived at Woodbury, it wasn't through personal choice. They found you on the verge of collapse near their walls. Once upon a time you would have been grateful for the help from strangers; now you were wary, wondering what they wanted in return.

They wanted information you weren't willing to provide.

Your lips sealed tighter as they delivered punches, kicks, slashes and pressed you with a barrel of a gun. You just thought of the kindness of Maggie's eyes, her chasing you down when you had made your decision. She gave you options, something no one had given you in a long time.

Kindness was a hard thing to come by these days. You weren't going to let these arseholes snuff it out.

Defiance rose within you. These people had made you bleed while they grinned at the sight of red. They relished in your tears, quaking and flinches. Your wounds pulsed at the memories of the fists and shoes connecting with your skin. No more.

In that moment, you realised the man hadn't taken the pen and notepad with him. You kicked the note pad away, clicking the pen. The nib shot back into the pen. Without hesitation, you concealed it in your hand as best as you could.

And you waited.

It didn't take long. Unfamiliar men and women filed into the room, brown bag and rope in hand.

"It's your lucky day - we're letting you go."

You scoffed. They ignored you, going about loosening the rope on your wrists. Your body tensed, subtly clicking the pen. The nib dug into your skin.

Just as they went to grab your arms, you released a battle cry, launching yourself at the closest man. You slammed him into the wall, plunging the pen into his chest with a strength you didn't know you had. He cried out, hand flying out to knock you to the ground.

The floor rushed up to meet you. Your head crashed against the concrete floor. You groaned, world spinning. Hands roughly grabbed you, tying your hands behind your back and throwing the bag over your head.

You were submerged in complete darkness. You stumbled as they led to what you assumed would be your execution, trying to wriggle yourself out of their grip. They held on strong, right until they stopped suddenly. They pushed you to your knees.

When the bag was snatched away, it took you a few moments to gather your surroundings. You'd been brought to a room as bare as the one you'd been questioned in. To your right, was a man with dark black hair, his facial features disfigured. His eye had swollen so much it looked like it had completely swollen shut. Next to him, a familiar woman gawked at you.

"Y/N?" Maggie's voice was full of disbelief.

You smiled at her meekly. You couldn't even imagine how awful you looked - you could feel the bruises blossoming on your skin, blood oozing from your nose. You'd been cut a few times too - you'd lost count of where and how many times.

"Why are you here?"

You shrugged, watching from the corner of your eye the man you stabbed waltz in. He glared daggers at you, spitting at you.

A metal barrel nestled at the back of your neck. Your spine instantly straightened, all of your senses focusing on the cool sensation spreading over your skin.

"Any last words?"

You wanted to scream. You wanted to shout every curse word under the sun, shriek words that would make your parents turn over in their graves. But you had been robbed of that.

You couldn't even tell them to fuck off before you died.

Instead you settled for the next best thing. You leaned into the barrel, jaw set.

You heard the click of the safety switching off. Squeezing your eyes, you waited.

Rather than being blasted into nothingness, you felt hands on your arms. "Come on, we're getting out of here."

Your eyes snapped open. You could barely see anything for a heavy smoke had thickened the air. All you could see was Maggie leading the way.

Your mind told you to turn back, to run in the opposite direction. People were bad, people would hurt you. You needed to run before you could get hurt.

Weren't you already hurt?

Your aching muscles decided for you. Desperately you kept your grip tight on Maggie, following a group of strangers to what you hoped would be your sanctuary. You chased their shadows as they expertly weaved in and out of the streets, beckoning you into a building. Without hesitating, you followed.

Collapsing against the wall, you caught your breath. Your eyes focused on the strangers before you, catching onto another familiar face. Daryl stared back at you, as if he couldn't believe you were alive.

A man with a revolver pointed his gun at you. You didn't even flinch. "Who's this?"

Maggie jumped in front of you, pushing the barrel of Rick's gun down. "A friend."

Eventually he lowered his gun, paying attention to the people he knew. You remained curled into the wall, cradling the back of your head. God, you felt foggy headed. You resisted the urge to slump down, forcing your eyes to stay open.

You tuned back into the conversation when the man with the revolver handed a gun in your direction. "Can I trust you with this?"

You nodded, taking the weapon into your hands. You checked the magazine, keeping a mental tally of the number of bullets you had.

After that, it was all a blur. You remembered fighting to escape Woodbury, shoving Maggie out of the way of an incoming bullet. You remembered the searing pain as it skimmed your arm. You remembered driving back to this safe haven, your vision fading bit by bit. Maggie's hand clamped on your own, her other one pressing down on the bleeding.

Then... darkness.

~

Little by little, your eyelids opened. Slants of light attacked you, forcing you to close them again. Weary, your arm attempted to rub at your eyes.

You couldn't move your arm.

All sense of tiredness disappeared. Muscles tensed, you pulled at your arm, hearing a clank each time you moved. You finally managed to turn your attention to your wrist, seeing a pair of handcuffs securing you to a bed.

Not again.

Panic seized your body. More erratically, you pulled at the cuffs, heart pounding.

"Hey - hey, it's okay." Footsteps rushed in, laying a gentle hand on your shoulder. Maggie gave you a small smile. "You're safe here."

You let your arm relax. You watched her like a hawk as she sat at the edge of the bed. It took you a moment to take in the scenery - the plain, grey walls, the metal bunk, the bars you could see the small gap in the door. Being safe, in a prison, were never two things you expected to follow the other.

She dunked a rag into a bucket. Maggie drew it out, wringing it, gesturing to your face. You gave a small nod. tensing as she carefully caressed the rag over your skin. The rag came back red.

"I'm sorry about what happened." Maggie sighed, wetting the rag and continuing her work. "You're one hell of a fighter. That man... I'm sorry."

Your eyes trailed her. She seemed to have drawn inward on herself. She was a ghost of the woman you saw at the nursery. The fire in her eyes had dimmed, along with her kindness. Whatever happened to her at Woodbury made her a shell.

This was another one of those times you wished you could speak. All you could do was tilt your head at her knowingly, offering a weak smile. Without a notepad, you were voiceless.

Clearing her throat, Maggie stood up. She drifted to the edge of the cell, lingering by the doorway. "I'll let them know you're awake."

You didn't have any time to protest as she disappeared.

A steady clicking grew louder and louder, until finally an elderly man on crutches approached you. His long white hair was tied in a ponytail at the base of his neck, his beard bordering wild. He hopped over to the chair, taking a moment to get comfortable and place his crutches to the side.

"Hi, Y/N. My name is Hershel. I'm going to take a quick look at your wounds. Are you alright with that?"

You nodded. He leaned in close, fingers delicately dancing along your skin. You flinched involuntarily as he brushed your cheek. He apologised, continuing his feather light touch along your wounds. He gestured at your arm, asking if he could look at it.

He unrolled the bandage surrounding your upper arm, inspecting the deep cut in your skin. He hummed, as if what he was seeing was appeasing to him.

"Can I have a look at your head?"

Absentmindedly, your fingers found the base of your skull. Your hands got tangled in your hair, something crusting the knots. When red flakes sprinkled on your hand, you remembered.

You nodded, turning your head towards him. Hershel took up the rag Maggie used, dampening your hair and washing as much of the blood off as he could.

His fingers lingered over the top of your head, quickly leaving to inspect your fresh wound.

"Fortunately you don't need stitches. You'll have a hell of a headache for a few days, you were lucky."

You nodded. Almost immediately you regretted it, feeling the world spin on it's axis.

"Do you mind if I ask something?" You waited for him to continue. "That scar on your head... was that from a past surgery?"

You were more careful when you nodded this time, the gesture so small it would have been lost if Hershel hadn't been paying attention.

"Is that why you can't talk?"

You nodded again.

"Well, I'll make sure you get some paper and a pen. You rest up, doctors orders." Hershel gently patted you on the shoulder, turning to grab his crutches. Just before he could, you reached out to grab him by the sleeve.

You reached your dominant hand to your chin, moving it sightly down and towards Hershel. He smiled, not fully understanding the gesture but recognising it was your way of saying thank you.

"You saved my daughter's life, I should be thanking you."

He hopped out of the cell, leaving you all alone.

~

The next time you saw someone, it was the man you'd been saved with. He looked worse today, the bruises having coloured brightly, the swelling under his eye prominent. He shuffled in, taking a moment to smile at you. It looked more like a grimace.

"I thought you'd like those cuffs taking off." He hobbled further into the room, hand shaking as he unlocked the cuffs. Your hand instinctively fell to your wrist, rubbing the red mark it had imprinted into your skin. "I'm sorry, these days you need to take precautions, you know?"

You thought back to the unfavourable people you'd met since and before the apocalypse. Having met your fair share of arseholes, you couldn't judge them for making the decision to cuff you.

"Here," the man passed you a notepad and a pen. You secretly rejoiced - finally, you could communicate in a way that they'd understand.

In an instant, you had flipped open to the next fresh page, scribbling down your response.

Thank you.

The man shrugged his shoulders. "It's the least we can do."

You averted your eyes. Ever since losing your voice, you lost the ability to make small talk. Writing was much more effort than speaking, so you decided to save up your energy for real conversations.

"I'm Glenn." He put his hand forward. You hesitated, before gently shaking his hand.

Y/N.

You spun the notepad towards him. He read the words, nodding. "Want to come down and meet the rest of the group?"

The thought stayed in your mind for a moment. You could picture it: interacting with a large group of people, scrambling to write answers to join the conversation, only to have moved on by the time you were done writing. One to one conversations weren't so bad, people saw you were writing so would wait. But groups? You might as well fade away.

You shook your head, feigning feeling unwell. Glenn asked if he should get Hershel. You brushed it off, waving a hand in the air.

Reluctantly, Glenn left the cell.

~

When Hershel had given you the all clear to leave your cell, you did so carefully. Like an animal in a new environment, you slowly crept out into more of the prison each day. The first day, you left your cell, letting your legs dangle from the walkway edge. The second day, you reached the top of the stairs. It took a week for you to finally go downstairs and sit with them all.

Everyone was accepting of your presence, enjoying seeing a new face. They didn't ask too many intruding questions about your silence, only watching with intent eyes when you wrote out your answers. Even in group discussions, they would turn to you. They'd wait while you wrote out your answer, passing the notepad around them.

For the first time in a long time, you felt seen.

~

Glenn knocked on the wall, announcing his presence. You looked up from your notebook, where your doodles and scribbles filled the margins. You sent a small smile, watching him play with his fingers.

"I, uh, realised something the other day." You tilted your head, waiting for him to carry on. "I realised how hard it must be for you. You talk using a piece of paper. You do your best to talk to us, but we don't really talk to you."

You frowned. He was talking to you right now.

"No, not like that." Glenn scrambled, sighing. "I mean, before all this happened, you didn't talk using paper, did you?"

You shook your head.

"I found a book in the library, and I've been learning. We all have. We wanted to show our gratitude for everything you had done. Just, uh." Glenn cleared his throat. "Sorry if I mess this up."

Then he raised his dominant hand to his chin, lowering it slightly in your direction.

In American sign language, he just told you thank you.

Your vision became very blurry, heart warming. You sniffed, reaching for your pen.

You did that perfectly.

Glenn let out a large sigh. "I was panicking that the book might be outdated."

You smiled widely. You repeated the gesture back to him. He laughed, smiling brightly.

"Come on, we need to show the others." He grabbed your hand, pulling you out of your cell, proudly announcing, "We're not going to need that paper anymore!"

Over time, you slowly taught them how to use American sign language. They became fluent in your language, the notepad soon to be forgotten.

After all, actions do speak louder than words.

the walking dead masterlist

[sugakoni]

Hello! Hope you have a nice day 😊

Can you do a Leon Kennedy and Chris Redfield x Younger!Fem!Reader where the reader comes from a rich family, but she’s terrible at looking after herself since she’s busy with college and whatnot and her family just kinda ignores her?

Thanks 😊

(a/n): drabble again! just liked this request and made more of a brotherly sisterly love between the three of them. i am gonna try to finish off most of the requests that are shorter tonight, thank you all for the patience.

warnings: none, just a lot of chris getting angry lmao.

pairings: chris and leon x f!reader

word count: 992

drabble under the cut.

The days always droned on, sleeping, working on school work, working on actual work for the BSAA, just trying to keep on living. She was currently in bed, water bottles scattered around her as she looked at her phone, seeing an incoming report go through about some sort of major viral attack. A soft huff left her lips as she got up, running a hand through her hair.

You had been used to this before. You don’t know why you joined an internship like this without finishing college, but you had to at least get somewhat decent before the infamous Chris Redfield bursted through your apartment doors.

You had a humble life, to say the least. Growing up rich has made a lot of things easier for you, including going through school and staying in a nice apartment up town, not having to deal with the uneasiness of the downtown areas. You just wished that your family would actually pay attention to the work you did, but alas, they would always focus on your siblings more than the daughter who had been working her ass off to get to the position she was in.

Muttering some words to yourself, you watched yourself through the mirror as you put your hair up in a ponytail. Gun now in holster, you made your way to your living room before Chris barged in, alongside him Leon fucking Kennedy.

“Jesus Christ, have you ever heard of knocking?” You asked, Chris rolling his eyes as Leon just stood there. Dumbfounded, to say the least, since he hadn’t seen you since you first started college. You looked over at him, giving him a soft smile before glaring at the big man who stood in front of you.

“Yes, but this is urgent. And holy fuck, how much water do you consume?” Chris asked, gesturing to the mass amount of water bottles on the coffee table, alongside it some empty beer bottles and wine bottles. You shrugged a bit.

“Enough to make sure I’m not always hungover.”

Chris huffed, and Leon let out a small chuckle. A brush grew on your face as you heard Leon’s laugh, looking away. Chris stood there, arms crossed for a moment.

“Have you been eating?”

“Yes.”

“What have you been eating?”

You stood there, trying to think of how to tell him you were only consuming instant noodles and sometimes the occasional McDonald’s nuggets. You moved to scratch your head, immediate embarrassment filling you as the two men awaited your answer.

“Instan-”

“Don’t. Finish. That. Sentence,” Chris ordered, shaking his head. You sighed out, rolling your eyes before making your way out of your apartment in silence. The two men followed, making sure nothing was around. You tried to think.

Why would someone like Chris care so much?

You huffed, making your way towards the two vehicles that sat outside. A motorcycle, of course, and another big car. BSAA issued, of course.

“Who got the bike?” You asked, glancing over at the two. Leon held the keys up to the motorcycle, and you smirked a bit.

Of course.

Leon moved to hop on the bike, patting your shoulder.

“You need to take better care of yourself, Y/n. Just speaking from experience,” he hummed. You felt immediate chills go up your spine at his tone, shaking it off as you gave him a nod.

“Will do,” you whispered back before getting in the car. Chris sat in the driver’s side, silence looming in the air as you began to follow Leon. You played with your fingers before looking at your phone, reading over the document that Rebecca sent you. The man to your left would occasionally glance over at you.

“You really need to consider investing in better grocery items. And no more drinking,” Chris said, shaking his head. You looked up at him, eyes narrowing.

“You’re not my dad, or my brother. I’m not Claire, unless you seemingly forgot that,” you slightly seethed, putting your phone back into your pocket. Chris gripped at the steering wheel.

“Yeah, but I care about you Y/n, and it hurts so much seeing you hurt yourself by not even… doing the bare minimum. Hell, Leon is worried now and I have never seen that man worry about anyone else that much,” Chris ranted.

You looked out the window, letting out a huff as you glanced over at Leon who was riding beside the car. Your leg bounced up and down, trying to think of what to say.

“I love you, Y/n. We love you,” he finished, stopping the car at the giant 18 wheeler they needed to be at. It had produced a gas that had changed half the city, and it was very vital that they finished it off.

However, you were sitting there, slightly dumbfounded by Chris’s words. You glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow before he got out with his gun. You stepped out of the car, shaking your head.

It had been a while since you heard those words leave someone’s mouth, and of course it being from Chris, you knew he would mean it. Your heart raced a bit as you tried to focus on your mission, but you looked back and saw Leon pull up.

“Let’s get this done,” Leon muttered, cocking his gun after pulling it out of it’s holster. Whenever Chris moved to follow him, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him back. Leon stopped in his tracks too, glancing back at you.

“I love you too, Chris. Both of you… I’m sorry,” you whispered, and Chris gave a nod. Leon blinked for a moment, not expecting you to say anything. He had heard Chris’s outburst through his earpiece, so he knew what you were referring to.

“It’s okay, Y/n… now, let’s get this done,” Chris repeated Leon, who laughed behind him. You gave a nod, a soft smile on your lips.

“Thank you.”

[hangovercurse]

Unprofessional

Colson sees you intimately for the first time and realizes you aren’t the good girl he thought you were.

Request: “Could you write a Colson imagine where he’s extremely infatuated and they finally do the dirty after making him wait awhile? Him exploring her body for the first time and seeing all of the tattoos he didn’t know she had. And maybe include a fluff bubble bath scene where they have a smoke sesh & play never have I ever in the tub where he learns more about her wild side?”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), talk of a motorcycle accident, cursing

A/N: Did I need to make this 3500+ words? No. Did I? Yes.

Word Count: 3729

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” His low voice whispered in her ear, making her smirk.

“We’ve waited four months for this, of course I do.”

“I’ve actually waited four years for this but sure.”

You giggled, the sound of angels in his ears. His lips attached to your neck as his body pressed you further against the wall. His hands explored your waist as yours traveled up his chest to his shoulders, supporting yourself as he lifted you up. Your legs wrapped around his hips, one hand moving to tangle in his hair.

His hot lips on your neck felt like fire, every inch of your skin in flames. You let out a soft moan when he pressed against the soft skin underneath your jaw. You could feel him smirk at the sound, his hips pressing further into yours.

His hands eventually found their way to your ass, massaging the skin through your pants. He pulled you away from the wall, his lips leaving your neck as he walked you both to the bedroom. You took it upon yourself to return his favor, your soft lips moving around his neck, leaving lipstick marks in their wake.

Colson whined when you reached a spot right behind his ear, leading you to suck harshly on the skin, leaving a mark. His grip on your ass tightened at the sensation, and he shifted so he could speak into your ear.

“Just remember which one of us is in control tonight, princess.” His voice came out like a growl, and you could feel heat growing between your legs. He dropped you onto the bed, standing over you as he ripped his shirt off. Your eyes scanned the tattooed torso you were oh-so familiar with, biting your lip as he pulled down his pants to reveal his triple-X tattoo and, more importantly, the hard outline of his cock.

You groaned, already missing his touch, and moved to pull your shirt off your body. Colson stopped you, “let me.” His voice was husky, hot. You obliged, letting him kneel on the bed in front of you and kiss you.

You were both sitting up, his hands pulling your legs to wrap around his hips once again. Your fingertips traveled his bare chest, exploring the artwork that covered him. His hands finally made their way to the bottom of your shirt, tugging the material upwards. He removed his lips from yours, leading the fabric over your head and exposing your bra-clad chest.

You leaned back in to reconnect your lips, but he leaned backwards, eyes traveling your middle. You whined, but he just pulled his lower lip between his teeth, admiring you. Your hands unconsciously moved to wrap around yourself, your age-old insecurities revealing themselves under his gaze, but his strong hands stopped you.

“Don’t cover yourself up, I wanna see you.” He mumbled, head dipping down to kiss your neck. You sighed at the contact, his hands still holding yours. His lips moved down, nipping your collarbone, your chest, until they finally reached the top of your bra. He looked up to you, bright eyes shining into yours. “Can I?” He asked, hands moving from yours to clasp of your bra.

You nodded, reveling in the feeling of the fabric falling from your body. His lips continued their trek, kissing down your cleavage, hovering over the tattoo over your right breast. “I didn’t know you had a tattoo.” He said, but it came out more as a question.

You pulled his head back up to be level with your face, and then shifted so he could see the larger tattoo on your left shoulder. “I have a couple of tattoos, actually.”

When he spoke, you could hear the smirk on his face. “Every time I see you,” he kissed the tattoo on your shoulder, “I think, she can’t possibly get any hotter.” He pressed another kiss to your skin, sending sparks of electricity through your body. “But somehow,” another kiss, “you do.”

You turned back around and pulled him into a passionate kiss, lips molding together. He pulled you even closer to him, his hard member pressing against your clothed core, making you roll your hips into his.

He moved you so that he could easily pull your pants down, his lips still connected to yours. You giggled as he struggled to pull them off your legs, moving away from him and standing up, pulling them off yourself. He stared up at you, blue eyes filled with fondness. You moved back to the bed, this time pushing him so his back hit the bed. You straddled his hips, eyes closing as your clothed middles met.

His hard cock rubbed against your wet pussy, making you moan lightly. You rocked your hips against his as he moved his hands to grip your waist. He began to lead your movements, eyes growing darker as your tits bounced with each grind.

He quickly grew frustrated of being underneath you, so he flipped you over so that he was on top of you. His hands found your breasts, massaging the skin. Occasionally he would trap the small bud between two fingers, pulling roughly. You didn’t mind, the sensation felt so good that you could overlook the pain. His lips dipped down to your chest, licking a stripe between your breasts, and then travelling downwards.

When his hot breath fell at the tip of your panties, you took in a sharp breath. The anticipation was killing you, wetness pooled in your panties. He grasped the top of your panties, painfully slow in his movements, and pulled it away from your skin. Your hips bucked up as he let go of the elastic, letting the material slap against your skin.

As you were preparing to whine for him to stop teasing you, he pulled down on the fabric harshly, exposing your drenched pussy. He smirked, eyeing your anticipation. He moved further down, his mouth hovering directly over your hole, breath hitting the sensitive skin. “Now, who made you this wet, princess?”

Everything about him was so intoxicating, his words, his breath, his voice. “You did.” You moaned, hands reaching down to grip his hair as he chuckled into your hips.

“Hell yeah, I did.” He whispered before licking a long strip up your slit, tasting your juices. He took in a deep breath as he swallowed, eyes closing. “Fuck, you taste so good, baby.”

You smiled at the praise, letting out a small whine as his lips moved back to your throbbing pussy. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading your legs further as he dove into you. His lips sucked on your clit, driving waves of pleasure through your body. The sensation of his lips on your heat were unlike any other man you’d had down there before.

When he wasn’t sucking at your bud, he was using his tongue to dip between your folds. Your moans only fueled him further, hand reaching to rub your clit. He squeezed the bundle between his fingers, making your hips thrust into him.

You whined out; words nearly incomprehensible. “More.”

Colson chuckled against your skin, the vibrations on your core sending even more pleasure through your body. “Use your words, what do you want?” He asked, his free hand pressing down on your hips to keep them in place as he continued his assault on your heat.

“Want you, your fingers.” You moaned, his tongue lapping at you as you spoke. The man didn’t respond, but as soon as the words left your mouth, he inserted one long finger between your folds. His mouth still sucked on your clit as he pumped his finger in and out of you. Once he felt you were loose enough to take more, he inserted another finger.

Your moans of pleasure drove him on, his long digits thrusting into your sweet cunt. “Fuck baby.” He mumbled against you, “feel so good around me.” He curled his fingers inside of you, rubbing against one of your walls. You let out a whine, hands tightening in his hair. He got the hint and repeated the action, bringing you closer to the edge.

You hummed out, feeling yourself get closer and closer to your high, “I can feel you, princess.” He mumbled in between the licks to your clit. “You wanna cum?”

You nodded your head, a whine of agreement coming from you. “Words, baby.”

Your hips bucked against his hand as he drove you closer to your release, “yes, please. I’m so close.”

Colson let out a dark chuckle, pumping you a few more times before pulling his fingers out of you. You whined at the loss of contact, your high slipping through your fingers. You looked to him, a pout on your face. Colson made his way to his knees, crawling back up your body.

You watched as he licked your juices off his fingers, tongue swirling around each digit and letting them out with a pop. You moaned just watching him, your pussy throbbing in need. Instead of saying anything, Colson leaned down to press his lips to yours in a hot, passionate kiss.

One hand held him up as he hovered over you, the other tangling in your hair and pulling you closer into the kiss. His tongue licked at your lips, demanding entrance which you easily obliged to. You could taste yourself on your tongue, realizing that was his plan all along.

He harshly pulled your head even closer to him, pulling your hair slightly. You moaned at the feeling, finding the action very hot. Your hands travelled down his body to the top of his underwear, running your hand around the elastic top.

You hooked your thumb into them, pulling the material down and exposing his long, hard dick. You could feel him slap against your stomach, making both of you release moans. Your fingers quickly took him in your hand, stroking his length. Colson groaned against your lips as you fully wrapped your hand around him, rubbing him up and down.

You slowly led his member to your entrance, lining him up with you. “Wait, princess.” He whispered, pulling away from you. You frowned as he searched through his bedside drawer, but it was easily replaced with a smile when you caught a glimpse of his pale butt. He pulled out a condom and quickly rolled it onto his cock, showing off how large he truly was.

You moaned just thinking about him being inside of you. “Someone’s needy.” He chuckled, moving back over you. He sat back on his knees, taking in the way you were laid out for him. He took his cock in his hand, slapping it against your pussy a few times before pushing himself inside of you.

His size filled you up slowly, stretching your walls out. His eyes closed at the feeling of you around him, a sigh leaving his mouth. You gripped the sheets beside you as the pain subsided, your body filled only with pleasure.

He began to move slowly, thrusting into you. He shifted so he was leaning over you again, his hot breath hitting your open mouth. His movements were strong, forceful. He felt so good, but you wanted more. “Faster, please.” You begged.

He smirked, his hips picking up their pace. Your hands wrapped around his torso, fingernails scraping marks onto his back. “Fuck, princess.” He groaned, and you stopped. “Keep doing that.”

His lips latched onto yours, biting and sucking as your fingers continued to leave their marks on his back. His cock continued to pump in and out of you, getting faster and harder with each thrust. One of his hands reached down in between your bodies, rubbing your clit in tempo with his movements.

The sensation made you moan against his lips even louder, hips thrusting to meet his. With every movement you were brought closer and closer to your release. You could feel him getting closer too; his thrusts getting sloppier and his hips jutting into yours more. You whined against his lips, “’m close.”

His words came out in heavy breaths, “me too, princess.” He pressed a kiss to your neck, sucking on the skin. “God you’re so beautiful.” He mumbled against you, “you gonna cum?” He asked, his husky voice pushing you closer to the edge.

“Mhm.” You whined; eyes shut in pleasure as his lips traveled your neck.

He smirked against you, the tip of his dick twitching inside of you, “then cum with me, baby.” He said, his hot seed releasing into the condom as he continued to thrust into you. You followed him, your high overtaking you, pulses of pleasure moving through your body.

Your pussy clenched around him, stars clouding your vison, as both of you moaned out. His thrusts slowed and then halted; both of your highs ridden out. He pulled out of you, moving to lay on his side.

He propped himself up on his elbow, watching your chest rise and fall as you tried to steady your breathing. “You are the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever seen.” He sighed, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. You felt heat rise in your cheeks, burying your face into his chest. His hand traced the tattoos on your stomach, surprised every time he found a new one.

You both laid there for a while, breathing in the other’s presence. Eventually you pulled away from him, a lazy smile on your face. He whined, his hand reaching to pull you back to him. You giggled, “c’mon, we gotta get cleaned up.” The man grumbled, not moving. “Fine, I guess I’ll just take a bubble bath all by myself.”

You smirked as he shot up, “you will do no such thing.” He said, laughing and climbing out of the bed to follow you into the bathroom. You started the water, bending down to check the temperature. Meanwhile, Colson disposed of the condom and grabbed towels for you both, laying them on the counter.

One the temperature was satisfactory, you flipped the knob to close the drain, letting the tub fill. As you began to lean back up, you felt Colson’s warm body against your back, his hands wrapping around your waist. You smiled as he pressed a small kiss to your shoulder, humming against your skin. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

You turned around, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling his face closer to yours, “yeah you are.” You said with a smirk, pressing your lips to his. “But I’m the luckiest girl.” You giggled, attempting to pull away from him to grab the bubble bath, but his hands kept you in place.

He pressed a long kiss to your lips as if to say “yes, you are.” Even in the simplest of actions he was dominating, but you loved every second of it.

You pulled away, wiggling out of his grip as he sighed, watching you grab the soap and pouring it into the bathtub. His eyes travelled your body, finding more tattoos on your legs and ankles that he’d missed earlier. His gaze got caught on a mark on your body that wasn’t a tattoo but looked more like a scar. “What happened there?” He asked, your eyes following his to the long scar that ran from your hip to your thigh.

You smiled, grabbing his hand, and pulling him into the tub, “I got into a motorcycle accident when I was 19.” You shrugged, remembering the incident. When you saw Colson’s eyes go wide you chuckled, “It wasn’t anything too serious, I was out with some friends and got a little too high and thought it would be a good idea to ride my dad’s bike.”

Colson shook his head as he sat down in the tub, chuckling. “It was not a good idea.”

You sat down in his lap, head resting against his chest as the bubbles floated around you. “You just decided to ride a bike while high? Did you even know how to ride it?”

You pouted up at him, “yes, I knew how to ride it. I was pretty good at it.” You giggled at your accidental innuendo. “But the problem was that I was high as fuck. Luckily, I didn’t run into a car or anything, but I got to this turn and I didn’t realize how deep the ditch next to the road was until I turned too fast and fell into it. Broke my elbow and a piece of the bike ripped up half of my side.”

Colson’s fingers ran up and down the scar, making you shiver. “Didn’t realize you were such a badass.” You rolled your eyes, turning so you were straddling him, hands resting on his shoulders.

“For your information, I’m still a badass, I just don’t ride bikes anymore.” You said, a smile on your lips despite the attitude in your voice.

Colson tilted his head, “I have known you for four years, Y/N. You are the least badass person I’ve met.”

Your mouth gaped open and you jokingly slapped his chest, bubbles flying everywhere. “That’s a lie!” He laughed, “seriously! Just because I don’t go out and party with you doesn’t mean I’m not badass.”

His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “In the entire time I’ve known you, the only badass thing you’ve done is manage my crazy ass.”

You smiled, biting your lip at his statement. “Yeah, that’s because I have to be adult when you’re around.” You giggled, “I can’t act all crazy and manage you at the same time. I keep it professional.”

He rolled his eyes, “ah yes, professional. Because you haven’t told me that a thousand times.”

You sighed, the past four years flashing through your mind. Every time you and Colson had almost let yourselves have a moment. Every time you’d almost given into his pining. But you’d told him you had to “keep things professional.”

Until you finally did give in, hence the last four months of your life. The best four months of your life.

“Well, I’m gonna get fired if Interscope finds out about this anyways, so I guess I could maybe go to one little party with you.” You said, dragging out some of the words.

Colson smiled, pecking your lips. “You’re not gonna get fired, I won’t let them fire you.”

You rolled your eyes, “you don’t have that power.”

“I’ll drop them.”

“You have a contract with them for at least another 2 albums.”

“Then I’ll hire you myself.” You laughed at his persistence. “You’ll be my professional girlfriend.”

“Colson, say that again and hear how it sounds.” You said slowly, making you both burst into laughter.

He reaches over the side of the tub to where he’d placed a lighter and joint earlier, lighting it and bringing it to his lips, inhaling the smoke. You smiled as you felt his body relax even further underneath you. He blew the smoke into your face, making you scrunch up your nose and swat at him. “I’m serious, though. I don’t want you to worry about that shit. I’m gonna take care of you, no matter what.”

You nodded, grabbing his hand, and leading the joint to your lips, taking in a long drag of smoke. You held it in your lungs for a moment, letting the drug do its work, before letting the smoke out of your mouth, aiming away from Colson. “Yeah, you’re definitely not allowed to be professional in front of me anymore.”

You laughed, “what?”

“You are so fucking sexy when you smoke. I’m gonna need that to happen a lot more.” He grinned.

You just rolled your eyes, “I smoke all the time, babe. Just not around you.”

His mouth fell open slightly, and you leaned forward to press your lips against his open ones. “What else do you do when I’m not around?”

You shrugged, taking another hit, and feeling the first one start to kick in. “I dunno, things.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, hands massaging the skin on the back of your waist. “Okay, I’ll tell you something stupid I’ve done and then you can tell me something stupid you’ve done.”

You chuckled, “Colson, I know most of the stupid shit you’ve done. I was normally there for it, and I was normally the one who got in trouble for it.”

“You weren’t there when Rook and I almost fell off a bridge in New Orleans.” He smiled and your eyes went wide. “You had the night off, and we promised you we wouldn’t do anything stupid. So, we went and got drunk and then we bet on who could hang off this bridge the longest without falling.”

“I think I could’ve gone my entire life not knowing that you two almost died the one night I wasn’t there.”

“At least you know you’re needed.”  

You sighed, trying to act angry but really you found it quite funny. “My official title is tour assistant but I’m actually a fucking nanny to a group of thirty-year-olds.” You both chuckled.

You grew tired of holding yourself up, so you leaned forward and rested your cheek on his chest, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat. “Hey, Rook is only 27.” Colson said, laughing. You shook your head but stayed quiet, soaking in the moment around you. After a few moments, he broke the silence, “your turn.”

You smiled, realizing he wouldn’t give up until you told him something about yourself. “I mean, you know about the bike thing.” He nodded, letting you continue, “I mean, I get a tattoo every time I leave an artist.”

He looked down at you, an interested look on his face. You sat up, showing him the tattoo on the  right side of your chest. “I got this one after I stopped touring with the Red Hot Chili Peppers.” He smiled fondly, tracing the outline. “And I have one on my ankle from when I left 3 Doors Down.”

He nodded, “are you gonna get one for me?”

You smiled, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “I’m not planning on leaving you, dummy.” The man smiled at that, grabbing your face, and pulling you into him for another longer kiss.

“Good.” Was all he said.

[kitwalkerswife]

Caravan(Jimmy Darling)

summary: you meet someone with a very interesting body feature

warnings: smut, nsfw, penetration, rough sex, fingering,DOM JIMMY, SUB READER, praising kink

Sipping a warm coffee in the morning at your favorite diner was always one of your favorite things to do. Today was extra better though because you noticed a very good looking man on the other side of the diner. He had chocolate brown eyes and wore leather. He was wearing gloves though, which didn't make sense to you because it's not like it's winter. You observe him a little more. He caught you staring and flashed you a pretty smile. His teeth were perfect. He was cute when he smiled. You shyly looked away and blushed. You picked up the newspaper and kept drinking your coffee. As you get lost in the news you hear a sweet voice, "Hi, I couldn't help but notice you were staring at me." You look up at the handsome stranger. You set down the paper and your drink, "Sorry, about that." You laughed nervously. "That's okay dear, i'm used to people staring." The man said with a smile. You didn't know what he meant by that, other than talking confidently about his looks maybe?

"So, where you from?" He said and sat next to you. "I'm from here, I love this diner." Jimmy looked you up and down. He's showing interest and you wouldn't mind having a little fun with him. He was charming and hot. "What do you do?" You asked. "Oh...I do performances for people." He responded. That intrigued you but when he responded he seemed a little hesitant on what he was going to say. "What kind of performances? If you don't mind me asking." You pried. "I think it would be easier if I just show you, you need a ride?" You were a little hesitant on going with him but you felt he was a good guy and he did feel a little mysterious so you agreed to go. He walks you out to his motorcycle and gets on. "Get on behind me, you might wanna hold on to my waist so you don't fall off though." You nodded, grabbed onto his waist and left.

"What's your name?" You shouted, while riding on the bike. "Oh, that's right, i'm Jimmy." He shouted back at you. "How about you?" "I'm y/n" . You guys were driving out far so you got a little nervous as to where you guys were going but you finally showed up to a very interesting place. A land with a ferris wheel, a big devils head and caravans all around. You looked around, observing the place and realized it was a freak show. You got off the motorcycle and jimmy took your hand. "Follow me." He took you to a caravan. You walked in and he told you to sit. "Now do you understand?" He asked you. You nodded your head, though you did wonder what he did for this freak show. Could he do magic or something? "So what do you do here?" You asked. Jimmy looked down at his hands. He slowly took them off and you saw what he was hiding. His hands were...not normal. They looked like lobster claws. Taken aback a little but not frightened, you grabbed his hands and said, "wow, that's pretty fucking cool." He looked up at you and smiled. "No girls ever had that reaction to my hands before." He admitted. You looked at him and said, "Well fuck them." He laughed and then it got pretty quiet. Jimmy then leaned in and kissed you. You kissed him back and pushed you against the wall in the caravan.

You went along with it. He kept you pushed against the wall with his hands on your waist. They felt so big wrapped around you. He grabbed your jeans and started pulling them down. He started rubbing you through your underwear. "I can feel how wet you are for me baby." Jimmy panted. You whimpered and kept kissing him. He took his hand out and pulled your underwear down as well. he then started kissing your thighs and up your body. He started pulling his pants down. "Take off your shirt." Jimmy commanded. You did as he said and he un-clipped your bra. He planted kisses on your neck and kissed down to your breasts. You moaned out in pleasure. He looked at your face in pure ecstasy and loved it. "Jump for me." Jimmy said. You jumped and he grabbed your legs and ass in the air. Pushing you against the wall again, he then pushed his hard cock inside of you. "NeUgh" you moaned. His thrust was hard but he did it again and then it started to feel good. Really good. He was going at a good pace and his dick was hitting you in the perfect places. "Oh fuck Jimmy, right there." You moaned. "Yeah? You like that? You like how that feels?" Jimmy groaned. "You're so fucking wet and perfect for me, doll." His words turned you on even more. "I'm so fucking close, y/n" Jimmy groaned. "You're such a pretty fucking thing." He praised. Jimmy started bouncing you in his arms so that his thrusts went harder and faster. "Oh Fuck" You moaned. You were close too. "Yes Jimmy, please don't stop." Your hands gripping onto his back. "Oh yeah, i'm gonna cum y/n." Jimmy quickly pulled out, still holding onto you and came. His arms struggling to still hold you while he was cumming. He groaned out with his head tilted back. You watched him release, while you still hadn't reached yours yet. Right after he came, he took his hand and immediately started finger fucking you, still against the wall. He was going really fast and you came. Right on his hand. It was soaked in your juices. "Oh fuck y/n, that's a good fucking girl." Jimmy praised you. He then took you to lay down on his bed so you could relax.

You laid on his bed and he grabbed a blanket to cover your body. -knock knock knock- Someone was knocking on his door. "Jimmy, show times in 20 minutes!" You heard a womans voice yell from outside. "Alright ma!" Jimmy grabbed his boxers and jeans back on. He grabbed a new shirt. "You can stay here if you want. I gotta go soon though. I can take you home whenever you're ready." Jimmy said sweetly. You nodded your head to him and just laid there, closing your eyes. That fuck really tired you out.

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter seven rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peters greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

Peter walked to campus that day with an extra bounce in his step. He couldn’t keep himself from leaping over the school gate, not caring who could’ve seen. He was in love. He walked past Flash with confidence, easily brushing off his backhanded comments. He walked up to Ned and felt oddly compelled to click his heels. Ned noticed the ecstatic expression on his best friends face and smirked.

“What’s got you so happy? Did a certain wall crawling superhero finally beat Venom in a fight?” He asked. Peter shook his head.

“Not yet. Something even better happened.” Peter said proudly.

“And what might that be?” Ned wondered. Peter could barely keep himself from screaming.

“Y/n kissed me.” He exclaimed. He got a few strange looks from passing students on their way to class, but Peter didn’t care. Nothing could ruin his mood.

“What? When? ” Ned gasped.

“This morning. She slept over last night after she had a nightmare. And guess what else?” Peter asked. Ned bounced up and down.

“What? Tell me!” Ned demanded. Peter looked around for who could be listening and smirked.

“She slept in my bed.” He smirked.

“Oh.” Ned said looked disappointed in the anticlimactic finish.

“With me in it.” Peter added and Ned looked amazed. His jaw hung open and he began to bounce up and down again.

“Dude that’s like the greatest thing ever.” Ned cheered. “She’s so hot! We have to tell everyone.”

“We’re not telling anyone just yet.” He shook his head. “She’s only been my girlfriend for a few hours. She’s really special to me, Ned. I don’t want to treat her like shes some prize I won by telling everyone. Girls are worth more than that.”

“Amen to that. What are you losers talking about anyway?” MJ said as she approached them. She was eating trail mix and looked extremely bored already.

“Peter has a girlfriend.” Ned blurted. Peter shot him an angry look while MJ looked impressed.

“Oh really? Who is she, your right hand?” MJ smirked. Ned looked confused while Peters face went red.

“It’s not my right hand. She lives in my building and she’s an angel. That’s all you need to know.” Peter grumbled, still annoyed that Ned spilled his secret. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of you, the exact opposite actually. He would shout it from the rooftops that you were together if he could. He just didn’t want everyone to know. You had only kissed that morning and Peter still wanted to keep the magical details to himself.

“Does this angel have a name?” MJ questioned, actually interested in something for once.

“No.” Peter said at the same time Ned said “Y/n L/n.”

“Y/n L/n from The L/n Report?” MJ was suddenly invested. It was the first time Peter or Ned heard emotion in her voice.

“You know her?” Peter asked.

“Duh.” MJ scoffed. “She’s the only investigative reporter I’ve seen who actually cares about the people she reports on. I read her articles all the time. We have a lot of the same opinions. I used to think she was the coolest girl ever.”

“Used to think?” Ned asked.

“Well clearly something’s wrong with her if she’s dating Peter.” MJ said flatly. Ned laughed and Peter looked at her angrily.

“There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s amazing.” Peter defended.

“I know she is.” MJ shrugged. “I’ve idealized that girl for year. Did you guy see what she did to Carlton Drake?” Peter nodded and smiled proudly at the thought of his girl kicking names and taking ass.

“She’s like my hero. She’s done so much for the homeless back in San Francisco. I was so excited when she said she was moving to New York to work for The Daily Bugle.” MJ gushed. Peter and Ned looked at each other, visibly confused.

“Have you always done that?” Ned asked her.

“Done what?” MJ asked.

“Felt things?” Ned said and MJ rolled her eyes.

“I feel very passionate about a lot of things. Those things just don’t happen to include you two or anyone else in this school. However, I am very passionate about your girlfriend.” MJ stated. She suddenly looked a little uncomfortable and unsure of herself, two things MJ never did. She awkwardly turned to Peter.

“Do you think I could meet her? I’d really love to talk to her about her article on fracking.” MJ asked slowly. She wasn’t used to asking people for things. Peters eyes softened at this new side of MJ.

“She’s picking me up after class today on her motorcycle. You can meet her then.” Peter offered. Then MJ did something very out of character.

She smiled.

“K thanks.” She blurted and then swiftly left. Ned and Peter laughed as she walked away.

“That was new.” Ned commented.

“Yes It was.” Peter agreed.

“She’s so odd.” Ned added.

“Yes, she is.”

“Did you do the hanky panky with Y/n?” Ned asked. Peter snapped his head towards Ned.

“What?” Peter flushed red. “No. And never say ‘hanky panky’ again.”

“It was worth asking. See you in orgo.” Ned said before walking towards his class. Peter shook his head in amusement before heading to his first class of the day.

At 3:30, you pulled up to Peters college on your motorcycle. You took off your helmet, shook your hair out, and scanned the crowd for Peter. You soon saw him, Ned following shortly behind him, and a girl you had never seen before. She wasn’t wearing makeup, which you gave her props for, and had her curly hair tied back in a pony tail. She was undeniably pretty and had a very cool vibe to her.

“Hi beautiful.” Peter said when he reached you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and hugged you tightly. “It’s torture not being with you all day.”

“I know. But the school year is almost over right? Then we can spend every second together.” You promised. Peter smiled happily. He leaned in slightly, as if asking for your permission, and you did the same. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He smiled into the kiss and held you closer. This time, there were no interruptions.

“Y/n, I’d like you to meet MJ. MJ, this is Y/n.” Peter said, gesturing to the girl. MJ smiled shyly at you and held out her hand.

“It’s really cool to meet you, Y/n. Your article on greenhouse gases is hanging on my wall. I’m uh, I’m a big fan.” She said timidly.

“You’re a fan? That’s amazing.” You smiled brightly at her. “I’ve never met a fan before. It’s really cool to meet you too, MJ. And if you’re interested in the environment, I have a bunch of scientists numbers I can give you. I had to interview a bunch back in San Francisco to write that article. They gave me some great tips on how to reduce my carbon footprint.” MJ’s eyes widened just a little. She looked baffled and gave you a thankful smile. You noticed one of her front teeth was slightly askew and decided you liked her already.

“Really? That’d be so cool. Thanks.” She said. You squeezed her arm and nodded.

“I think you and I are going to get along just fine. Can I get your number? I’d love to hear more about what you’re interested in.” You handed MJ your phone and she took it. She typed her number it and handed it back.

“This has been really amazing. Thanks for being so cool. I have to run though. I’m running a protest outside of Oscorp.” She explained. “One of their employees got seriously electrocuted and they’re to cover it up.”

“Really?” You gasped. “Is it okay if I tag along? I’m kinda busy with my Cletus Kasady story but I would love to cover your protest too.”

“You’d do that for me?” She asked as if she wasn’t used to people doing things for her.

“Gladly. Can I join? I can give you a ride there.” You offered. She smiled at you and toyed with the strings on her backpack.

“That’d be great. See you losers later.” MJ gave Peter and Ned a peace sign and climbed onto your bike. You gave Peter a quick peck on the lips and got on the bike as well. Peter watched as MJ wrapped her arms around your waist and smirked at him. You two sped off towards Oscorp, leaving Peter and Ned in your wake.

“Dude.” Ned laughed. “MJ just stole your girlfriend.”

“Shut up. No she didn’t.” Peter said. Did she though? You seemed to hit it off with her pretty quickly. Peter didn’t know MJ too well but he knew she was guarded and didn’t let people in easily. In fact, she didn’t let anyone in. And yet, you and her had become best friends in a matter of minutes.

Heading back from Oscorp a few hours later, you saw a familiar hat bobbing up and down in the street. You were about to call out Neds name when two guys came from around the corner. They looked mean and you could hear Ned’s heartbeat rising. You quickly ran over to him.

“Hey.” You panted. Ned looked relived to see you.

“Oh hey Y/n. How’d your date with MJ go?” He teased. You shoved him slightly.

“It wasn’t a date. She’s really cool though. I think we’re going to be good friends.” You said as you passed the two guys. You soon heard a whistle.

“Damn baby. Where you going with him? Don’t you wanna stay here and have some fun?” one of the guys called. You looked at Ned and picked up your pace.

“I know you heard me beautiful. Stop running before I give you a reason to run.” The man said again, louder this time.

“Keep walking.” You whispered to Ned.

“I said stop running.” The man shouted, this time, his threat was accompanied by the sound of a gun cocking. You and Ned froze in your steps. The two men slowly approached you, all while pointing the gun level with your head.

“That’s better.” One man said when he reached you. “Now, how about this. You come with me, or I shoot your friend. Does that sound fair?”

“I better call Peter. He’ll know what to do.” Ned panicked.

“No need.” You growled as your transformed into Venom. You marched up to the guy and grabbed him by the shoulders in a death grip. You spit at a nearby newspaper in the ground. The newspaper quickly disintegrated and left nothing but smoke behind. You smiled devilishly at the man, grateful for a chance to show off your acidic saliva.

“What was that?” The man cowered in your grasp. Meanwhile, his friend ran away terrified.

“Acid spit. Still want me to come with you?” Venom purred. The man whimpered and shook his head furiously.

“Didn’t think so. Now, if you don’t tell us the names of ten historical feminists who would be very disappointed in your sorry ass by the time I count to ten, we’re going to eat you. Does that sound fair?” Venom growled as the man shut his eyes in fear.

“One.” You began to count.

“Uh…” He whimpered.

“Two.”

“Um.” He raked his minuscule brain for answered but came up empty handed.

“Ten.” You said and bit his head off. You quickly ate the rest of his body before turning back into yourself. You wiped your hands and patted your stomach before turning around and making eye contact with Ned, completely forgetting he was there.”

“You’re Venom?!” He gasped as he pointed at you in horror. You ran up to him and covered his mouth.

“What? No.” You lied. “How do you know about Venom anyway?”

“It’s you. I can’t believe it’s you.” Ned exclaimed when you took your hand off his mouth. You were getting more and more confused.

“You’re Venom. You, Y/n, are Venom.” He repeated as if it all made sense now.

“Play dumb.” Venom whispered.

“What? I’m not Venom. What makes you say that?” You stammered.

“Not that dumb!” She yelled. Ned looked at you and laughed, still in shock.

“You and Peter are perfect for each other, you know that? You’re both dumb as shit.” He laughed. You had to laugh a little as well.

“You’re Venom and Peter is…do you know about Peter?” Ned suddenly asked.

“What about Peter?” You didn’t understand what he meant. Neds eyes went wide, and then filled with sadness.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” He shook his head. “Are you gonna tell him about this? Because I’m going to be very honest with you, I’m terrible at keeping secrets. I don’t know if I can keep this from him.”

“I’m gonna tell him eventually. So please, don’t say anything.” You pleaded. “He has to hear it from me. I’m sorry that I’m making you lie to your best friend but this is a very unique situation.”

“It’s a lot more unique than you think.” He muttered. “I won’t tell him.”

“Thank you.” You hugged him tightly, thankful that he was safe and keeping your secret. You walked Ned home and began to make your way back to the apartment building. You wanted nothing more than to cuddle with Peter and forget the day. After all, you missed him all day at school. It was bearable when you guys were just friends, but now that he was your boyfriend you never wanted to be apart.

When you were just a few blocks from your apartment, you felt a strong arm wrap around your neck and hold you in place. Suddenly, there was a knife to your throat.

“I saw what you did to my buddy, you little freak. Now, how about you get down on those pretty little knees before I kill you?” The man threatened. You turned your neck as much as you could and recognized your attacker as the mans friend who ran away from earlier. You sighed deeply. You were full and trying to keep your body count to a minimum, but he was just asking for it. You shut your eyes and were about to turn into Venom when you heard a voice from behind you.

“Now that’s no way to treat a lady.” The voice rang. You recognized it as Peters voice. The guy was quickly pulled away from you as if by some kind of rope. You heard some sort of webbing going on behind you and small cries of struggling from the man.

“Are you alright Miss?” Peter asked.

“I’m fine, Peter.” You said, finally turning around. Instead of seeing your boyfriend, you saw the friendly neighborhood pain in the ass. He had webbed your attacker to the wall and was now looking right at you. You had seen him so many times before, and he’d seen you, but never like this. You felt almost naked, standing before Spider-Man as Y/n instead of Venom.

“Oh.” You said, startled. “I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

“Yea. This is a pretty popular outfit.” Spider-Man joked, gesturing to his skin tight suit. You bit your tongue. He was funny, but you couldn’t let him know that. You were enemies after all. He just didn’t realize it was you.

“Thanks for saving me.” You blurted. “But I had the situation handled.”

“You’re right. You especially looked like you had it handled when he was about to stab and murder you.” Spider-Man said sarcastically. You found him oddly charming, despite your history.

“What are you gonna do with him?” You asked, pointing to the man webbed to the wall.

“I heard what he said to you. I’m going to register him as a sex offender and ruin his life. Unless, you had other plans. You know, since you had the situation handled.” Spiderman remarked. You playfully rolled your eyes. You did have other plans. Plans that involved eating him and digesting him while you cuddled with Peter. But Spider-Mans plan was okay too.

“Alright. I’ll see you around Spider-Man.” You said, giving the superhero one last look. There was something familiar about him. Spider-Man nodded.

“See you around. And please, be careful. Don’t walk alone. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” He said and turned back to the man.

You went home, showered, and got into some comfy clothes. You missed your boyfriend dearly and went to his apartment to see him.

After being let in by May, you went into Peters room and flopped on his bed. He was sat at his desk doing homework.

“Did you mean what you said about me sleeping over whenever I wanted?” You asked, voice muffled by his pillow.

“Of course I did.” He swiveled around to look at you and noticed your body language. “What’s wrong, love?”

“I’ve had a long day and I want to cuddle my boyfriend.” You pouted. Peter smiled at you calling him your boyfriend. He closed his textbook and climbed into bed with you. You rested your head on his chest, right over his heart. The sound of his heartbeat calmed you down and you felt sleepy.

“Did you make any progress on your story?” He asked. You shook your head as he began to run his fingers through your hair. You hummed in content and pressed a small kiss to his neck. He blushed at the affection and held you closer.

“No.” You groaned. “I’ve had the worst writers block all day. I was actually thinking of writing an article on Spider-Man until my writers block went away.”

After your encounter with the masked hero, you wanted to know more about him. You were originally against your boss’s idea to write about him, but now you liked it. Sure, there were plenty of articles on Spider-Man out there, but you knew him intimately.

“Spider-Man?” You felt Peters heart stop momentarily. “Why?”

“I think I have a pretty good shot at figuring out who he is.” You shrugged. “Like, think about it, he only operates from the hours of 4 to midnight ish right? Except, on weekends, when he’s seen all throughout the day. What’s he doing all day on weekdays? He can’t be at work because jobs don’t end that early. I think he’s in school. Either high school or college. Probably college though, right? I can’t imagine a high schooler doing what he does. Unless he’s been doing this since high school. That’s also possible.”

“Oh wow.” Peter said, dumbfounded. He was usually blown away by your intelligence, but now it was working against him. There were a million college students in New York, though. Surely you wouldn’t figure it out.

“And think about this, he’s only ever in New York, so he must live here right?” You continued. “But what about that one time he saved those kids in the Washington Monument? What was New York’s superhero doing in Washington? I looked into it and the kids he saved were on a field trip. What if Spider-Man was on the field trip too? If I look up all the schools that were there, I could create a list of suspects and go from there. Then, I could-“ you were cut off with a kiss.

“Let’s not talk about Spider-Man.” Peter said quickly, followed by a smile. “I want to hear about you day. How was Oscorp?”

“We had a really good time.” You smiled. “I interviewed her after I helped her with the protest and then we grabbed lunch. Oh, and I saw Ned on my way home.”

“You saw Ned?” Peter asked. Ned hadn’t mentioned seeing you.

“Yea.” You blew out a breath. “These two guys attacked us. One ran away and I took care of the other. But then the one that ran away came back and you’ll never guess who saved me.”

“Who?” Peter smiled. He knew who.

“Spider-Man. I don’t know. I was wrong about him. I used to think he was just some guy in spandex with a God complex but now I think he just genuinely wants to help people. And…” you trailed off.

“And?” Peter raised an eyebrow.

“He’s got a nice ass.” You admitted. Peter laughed loudly. You smiled into his chest. You loved that damn laugh.

“I’m serious.” You insisted. “I saw it as he walked away and it knocked me out. Spider-Man is dummy thick.”

“Please never say the words “Spider-Man is dummy thick” in my house again.” Peter pleaded. He secretly loved it though.

“I was actually thinking of making that the title of my article.” You joked. Peter laughed again. He chucked a pillow at you and you giggled.

“Let’s go to bed.” You yawned. “In a romantic, but still non sexual way this time.”

“Good night, my Nancy Drew.” Peter said with a kiss to your forehead.

“Goodnight, my whoever Nancy Drew was boning.” You yawed again.

“Ned Nickerson.” Peter laughed.

“Then goodnight Ned Nickelodeon.” You said, half asleep.

“Close enough.” Peter smiled.

[outercrasis]

Sessions

Pairing: College!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: None (let me know if I missed something!)

Summary: Everyone is talking about the mysterious new guy on campus

A/N: I had a ton of fun writing this extremely self-indulgent AU and I have plans to keep writing more about these two. It won’t be an actual chaptered fic, but at some point I’ll throw together a masterlist with a chronological order to things.

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Introductions

The semester had only started four weeks ago and he was already a legend around campus. Almost everywhere someone could be found whispering about him. You'd even heard faculty speculating, wondering about the rumors they overheard their students sharing.

You first heard of him in your literature seminar, some of your fellow classmates discussing a recent rumor about the now fabled man. Something about a motorcycle and a child caught your ear, prompting you to interrupt and the girls in front of you who they were talking about. 

The looks you received from the pair were incredulous at best. “You mean you haven’t heard about him?”

“Heard about who?” you asked, genuinely confused. It had only been the first week of class at the time and you were too caught up with your own busy start to check in on the rumor mill.

“Mando, obviously. He’s all anyone is talking about.” From there the girls had happily filled you in on all the latest sightings and rumors. 

Mando, as they called him, was shrouded in mystery. He'd popped up on Corellia University's campus when the semester began and no one knew a thing about him. He hadn't gone to Corellia before, internet searches turned up nothing, and even the skull-like symbol on the back of his leather jacket wasn't familiar to anyone. Any information on him was conjecture at best and there was plenty to go around. Once the rest of the class caught onto what you three were discussing, theories began to fly.

People discussed how he’d been spotted downtown, beating on some guys in a back alley. He’d also been seen uptown the same night though, strolling through Basalt Park. One girl was nearly certain that she’d gone to elementary school with Mando, but he’d mysteriously disappeared one day without explanation. Someone else was confident he was just a cop trying some weird shtick to go undercover. Then one person insisted he had a kid with him sometimes while another was trying to explain that he was actually a murderer. The rumors only became more ludicrous from there.

By the end of the discussion you only ascertained two things for certain. He went by the name Mando and he wore some kind of special helmet. Information you could have gotten by watching him pick up a drink at the Java Hut. Not nearly enough to warrant this level of fervor in your opinion.

From there, hearing about Mando was inescapable. You got home that night only to have your roommate and best friend, Layla, launch into theories about him. Within the week someone set up a social media page to try and track his location around campus via DMs fellow students sent in. That had struck you as invasive and unsettling, but the messages about him kept flooding in.

By pure chance, you had yet to actually see him for yourself. There weren't even any creep shots for you to look at. People had been trying to take photos of him, but he was like a ghost. In the time it took them to pull up their cameras he'd disappear. 

There wasn't even more concrete information about him beyond what you'd learned that first day. Just more and more speculation, a good amount of it made up purely for the shock factor. Another week slipped by, the semester picking up, and Mando news became standard in your day. There was always something new going around about him and as much as you tried to avoid it and focus on your studies, you couldn’t help but wonder about him yourself.

Who was this guy? Was this all some stunt or ‘social experiment’ that would be revealed by a sociology student at the end of the semester? Or was he a legitimate peculiarity, doomed to stick out like a sore thumb? You weren’t sure if you should hate him for making a big deal out of himself or pity him for all the unwarranted attention. Either way, you were sure that whenever you met this enigmatic Mando, you’d know.

×××××

You grumble looking at the submission form. The name and student ID information is blank again. You told Todd last week those fields needed to be made mandatory. How else were you supposed to know who to email when you end up with a no-show for the hour?

Looking further down you're pleased to note that they're at least a grad student. Despite the unfinished form, graduates almost never skip sessions like these. You're thrilled to have the opportunity to discuss something other than freshman composition for once. It's fun helping the wide-eyed freshies, but you can only go over basic comma rules so many times before you start to lose it a little.

There's a knock at the study room door and you look up only to be rendered speechless. It's him. Mando. With a kid on his hip. So Alissandra hadn’t been lying when she told you about the toddler she saw with him. Interesting. Continuing to take him in, you can’t help but focus on the obvious - the only thing you knew about him other than his supposed name, the helmet. 

It’s unlike anything you've seen before. You're fairly certain it's a motorcycle helmet, but it's been modified. Rather than the typical rounded shape, his is all sharp angles and flat at the front. It’s colored a sleek, shining chrome that gleams under the washed out fluorescent lighting. Most arresting is the way he's changed the face of the helmet. The cheeks dip inward at a sharp angle, creating deep, curved contours. His visor is a T of black glass in the center, entirely impossible to see through. It's intimidating and… kinda hot?

The little boy he's holding starts to wiggle in his grasp, physically demanding to be set down in the study room. Once his feet touch the floor, he immediately runs over and climbs into the chair next to you. He's a welcome distraction from his father’s? brother's? guardian's? commanding presence in the room.

The boy can't be older than three, smiling up at you with a wide toothy grin. His hair is covered by a green beanie with large floppy ears sewn onto it and he's wearing a little brown jacket with a sherpa collar. Maybe a bit too heavy for the early autumnal weather, but if the rumor that the kid rides on a motorcycle with Mando is true, it’s perfect. His eyes are large and brown, shining up at you with a slightly mischievous glint.

"Hello, what's your name?" you ask, smiling back at the child.

"Grogu," comes the reply, not from the kid, but from Mando.

You arch an eyebrow at him. He can't be serious with that name. "Grogu?" you ask.

He shrugs, placing his bag on the table. "I came home one day and he told his babysitter that was his name now. He won't respond to anything else. So, Grogu."

You look back to the bouncing toddler. He's still grinning, nodding along with what's been said about his name. They must not be lying then. Either that, or it was some elaborate prank between them and you would never be in on the joke. 

"Well okay, Grogu it is." 

You extend your hand out to Mando, offering your name alongside it. He offers a leather clad hand in return, giving you a firm handshake. You're pleased when he only gives your hand a gentle squeeze, not crushing it like so many other students have done. His gloves are unique as well, black with orange fingers, the leather well worn in. It's warm to the touch, his body heat radiating through the thick fabric. 

"Mando," he says, officially introducing himself as he takes the seat on your other side, across from Grogu.

"Mando," you repeat, cementing it as a truth from the rumor mill. "Got any other names?" You hope that comes across as casual and not intrusive. He hasn't even gone to remove his helmet, telling you he isn't a man who cares much for people prying into his business.

"No. Why?" Mando cocks his head slightly as he asks, the helmet adding an exaggerated look to the movement. He reaches into his bag, pulls out some crayons and a pad of paper, pushing them over to Grogu.

You shrug, trying not to think about how you heard his name might be David from someone in your composition course. "Just thought I'd ask. One hears many things around campus and it's hard to tell what's true or not."

"What do you mean?"

That question makes you pause. Surely he knows. Part of you is still convinced he’s doing this act on purpose, trying to gain notoriety for some reason. The way he asked though, something about it tells you that the poor man is clueless about the buzz he's caused.

"Mando, you're like the talk of the town right now. We only just met but I've heard plenty about you," you explain. It's hard to tell with the helmet on, but you're fairly sure he's shocked underneath. Grogu ignores you both, excitedly scribbling away on his paper.

"I'm fairly sure most of it's just rumor and speculation, but still. You're like a thing around campus," you add.

He's quiet for a moment, his laptop only half out of his bag. "Oh," he finally says. "I didn't know."

Grogu gives a happy shriek not a second later, breaking the awkward tension that had begun to creep into the room. He's beaming, holding up his crayola masterpiece. On the paper there is what appears to be a hastily drawn frog using every color in the box.

Mando returns to himself, pulling his laptop the rest of the way and continues to get set up. "Great job, kid. It looks good."

Most people would have said that dismissively, a platitude to get their child to stop bothering them. When Mando says it though, the authenticity is palpable. He said six words and you can hear the pride lacing them all together. It’s sweet, the obvious affection this clearly private man has for the toddler. 

You can’t help but wonder what his connection to Grogu actually is. The way he spoke just then, if you had to put your money on it, you’d say father. The kicker then though is if he’s biological or not. And if not, then how else does a grad student get strapped with a three year old? Thinking about all the potential scenarios is enough to make your head hurt.

You’re also left wondering where all the more violent rumors about him are coming from. His tenderness is so readily on display that it’s hard to imagine the man before you choking someone because they cut him in line at the local froyo shop. He’s mysterious and gives off a vaguely dangerous vibe, sure, but less than five minutes around him and the kid and it’s obvious he’s no threat to you. He’s just a guy trying to get his assignments done for class, same as everyone else.

Your stomach still catches in your throat as Mando starts unexpectedly tugging off his gloves. From what you’d heard, he never takes anything off: not his jacket, not his gloves, and certainly not his helmet. All anyone knows of his true appearance on campus is that he’s obviously male with rumors flying around about everything else including simple attributes, like the color of his skin. Now, here he is, casually revealing this groundbreaking information to you.

His hands move fluidly, pulling off each glove in just a few easy tugs. His skin matches the heat you felt from them just minutes ago, a warm golden tan, with a few faded lines of scars worn in. Watching him type, pulling his paper up for you to discuss, you feel a deep and sudden ache to have his hands touch you again. A simple handshake is no longer enough. Every stroke of the keys is measured, deliberate, and leaves you wondering how he would use those fingers on you.

“This is what I have so far.”

His voice snaps you back to reality, a quick wave of shame washing over you. Where did all of that come from? It was just a man’s hands for heaven’s sake, certainly not something you should be horny about at two in the afternoon. Not to mention that he came in here looking for your help, not wanting you to start fantasizing about his hands expertly working you over.

You clear your throat and tear your eyes away from the offending appendages. “Great, let me just read the introduction here so I can get an idea for what you’re writing about.”

You settle into working with him easily. His paper is already well-written, just needing tweaks here and there to bring it to the next level. It’s nice working with him. He’s attentive, clearly listening to everything you have to say and taking it into account. He doesn’t even try to challenge you as some of the more macho male students are wont to do. By the end of the session, you can’t help but wish all of your time as a tutor was that easy.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely, tucking his laptop away. “You really helped.”

You smile at him, thrilled with his genuine complement. “Of course, that’s what I’m here for.”

He finishes packing up his and Grogu’s things, with you silently lamenting as his gloves slide back on. It still feels like a ridiculous thought, but he really does have beautiful hands. There’s a small tap on your arm and you look to your left to see Grogu patiently waiting. He’s offering something to you, paper outstretched in his little hands.

“Thank you,” you say, taking the sheet from him. You look at it to see a frog carefully drawn on the page. It’s not the same as the first one he showed you and Mando, this one more deliberate and thoughtful. The colors are still just as varied, but it’s obvious he took more time to think about where he was using each one. You can’t help but smile at his small masterpiece.

“It looks great, buddy. I’ll keep it forever,” you tell him. Grogu beams at your praise, excitedly looking over to Mando. 

Mando nods at the kid. “Yeah kid, I heard her too.” He turns his head towards you. “Thank you again. I’d take good care of that drawing. He’ll never forgive you if he finds out you got rid of it.”

“Does that mean I’ll be seeing you again?” Your own boldness takes you by surprise. You have no idea where that came from, how those words spilled without a second thought. Part of you is already cringing at Mando’s potential reaction.

He surprises you once again though, holding a hand out for Grogu to take. Shouldering his backpack, you hear an amused huff of air from under the helmet. “Yeah, mesh’la, I’ll see you around.”

There isn’t a chance to reply as Mando turns, escorting his tiny charge out of the room with him. You’re a little dumbstruck, now equally surprised with him as you had been with yourself. 

And what was that name he just called you? Mesh’la? You don’t even know what language that could have been, much less the meaning. Something about his tone when he said it tells you it’s a good thing though, that he’s not secretly calling you rude names in some unknown language. You can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever get to find out.

.

.

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taglist: @honestly-shite

[nctsworld]

pedal to the metal

✩ jaemin x reader | mall au | arcade attendant!jaemin | fluff | 3.3k

SUMMARY ⇾ when the claw machine eats your money, jaemin, the cute arcade attendant, offers to play a game with you in lieu of a refund. little does he expect you to beat him. | based off of @mistymark​​’s nct mall employees post WARNINGS ⇾ fluff, bit of angst, jaemin is competitive, kissing in the epilogue     RATING ⇾ teen+ 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit!

Leaning over the glass counter filled with endless prizes, Jaemin holds out two large plushies, one in each of his hands. 

“Pikachu or Spongebob?” He swivels his head to them individually before beaming down at the little girl in front of him. 

With the alternating supervision of her parents, she’s been one of the recent regulars at the arcade and finally saved up enough tickets fo a decent prize, deciding to cash them in today. Her face lights up and targets in on one particular plushie, already inching towards it with open hands. 

“Pikachu, Pikachu!” she squeals. 

The worker’s smile deepens, “Great choice. Couldn’t have picked better myself.” 

He laughs airily as she squeezes Pikachu like it’s the last thing she’ll ever love, bouncing up and down with joy. Today, the girl’s mom is with her and she holds her ecstatic daughter close to her leg, rubbing her arm warmly. 

“So I guess I’ll see you two next week?” Jaemin asks. 

“If she gets over Pikachu as fast as she did with Olaf, then probably yes,” the mom replies with a defeated head shake. “Thanks again, Jaemin. Say bye to the nice boy.” 

“Bye, Jaemin!” 

The mother and daughter wave good-bye with wide smiles, as did Jaemin. Giving prizes out and seeing the delightful reactions on the recipient’s face was one of the best parts of his job. 

Oh, and so was being able to play all the arcade games for free. 

For Jaemin, being the arcade attendant at the local mall was a dream come true. He was once in the same place as the little girl—always coming to the same arcade every day after school. Although he loved winning prizes (who doesn’t?), he also prided himself in being the best at every game, knowing all the secrets and strategies like the back of his hand. Dance Dance Revolution, Street Fighter, Beatmania, Time Crisis, Super Bike, Pac-Man… You name it, and Jaemin can wipe the floor with anybody. It’s why none of his friends liked to play the games with him, but they still had fun nonetheless.

“That girl is insane!” Chenle exclaims with a point of his thumb, strolling up to the counter. He’s one of Jaemin’s many friends and an everyday mall-goer. Jisung comes up next to him, also a friend and works at the mall’s McDonald’s. The mall was really a second home to them all. 

Jisung bobs his head in disbelief. Then, he turns to face their worker friend. 

“You’ve gotta admit she’s really good, right?” 

The lanky figure cocks an eyebrow. “What are you guys talking about? I was busy giving out a prize to someone.” 

The shortest individual of the three widens his eyes. “There was a girl who was just playing Super Bike. She kept kicking everyone’s ass, even us.”

Jisung nods fervently, “I was telling Chenle that she’s probably as good as you, maybe even better.” 

Jaemin scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “No one can beat me at Super Bike, you both know that.” 

“You haven’t seen her play, though…” Chenle sighs dreamily, perching his chin into his palms, as he drifts off into space and replays the gameplay in his mind. 

“I don’t know, Jaemin,” Jisung shrugs. He absentmindedly fiddles with the bundle of tickets left by the little girl. “It’s about time someone beat you at one of the games.” 

Suddenly, Jaemin snatches the tickets from his hands, startling the younger boy. Said younger boy glances up to meet a pair of slitted, burning eyes. In an instant, Jaemin’s eyes melt and a cocky expression flashes by.  

“Like I always say, I never lose.” 

He begins to count the tickets, but the thought of someone being better than him makes him lose track. 

After he finishes counting the tickets, he casually checks-up on the motorcycle racing simulator to see what all the fuss was about. To his disappointment, he is met with a young boy, playing by himself.  

Jaemin makes a mental note to keep an eye and ear out for this mystery Super Bike girl.  

A few days pass. You’re at the mall by yourself to kill some time and to procrastinate on studying. You spent a while at the bookstore already, so you decide to do something a little more fun. 

At the bustling arcade, you’re quickly drawn towards the claw machine with the mountain of plushies. You know the odds of winning are low, but one round couldn’t hurt. Placing your money into the claw machine, you begin to fiddle with the joystick. However, nothing’s moving. 

Your face crinkles in confusion, so you add money again, thinking that maybe it was a one-time fluke. Nope, definitely not a fluke because the claw still doesn’t work. You’re now two dollars down and you didn’t even get the chance to play.  

Walking around the arcade, you try to find a worker, but to no avail. You stand in front of the glass counter, waiting for an attendant. While waiting, you’re peering at all the variety of prizes to be won and wish you were skilled and patient enough to obtain such things. It’s no wonder why the claw machine drew you in, at least that game filled you with a false sense of a fast and easy win.   

After finishing a supervising round in the arcade, Jaemin notices a girl at the front counter. Actually, scratch that, a stunning girl—one that he hasn’t seen in the arcade before. He’d definitely remember you if you had. The ends of his mouth stretch and he strides towards you with a wind of confidence.

“Hi, do you need help with something?” 

Jolting slightly, you’re taken aback by both the handsome figure and the question. You saw him earlier at one of the games, but it never crossed your mind that such a young, attractive guy like that would be the resident arcade attendant. You subconsciously do a double take, eyeing him up and down, causing Jaemin’s grin to become more cheeky.

“Hi, yeah,” You point to where you were previously. “I was trying the claw machine and it took my money, but it didn’t let me play any rounds.” 

“Oh?” He scrunches his face and heads toward the machine. You follow behind. “We just fixed it a few weeks ago, that’s weird.” 

At the claw machine, Jaemin feels around the machine, checking on the knobs and buttons, and even places a coin into it to test out your claim. He tinkers with the joystick, and realizes you’re right; the machine’s only taking money without allowing any plays. 

So he kicks it. Hard.  

You break out into a chortle. “Does that actually help?” 

“Always works like a charm.” 

Another kick, and more chortling. 

Jaemin shifts his head towards you and places a hand on his chest. His eyes waver, searching around him as if someone would be listening, and lowers his voice in a hush. 

“I’m a secret machine whisperer, you gotta trust me,” he says with a small wink, and you trust him by standing back and resuming to observe him with a fluttering heart.  

The attendant tries the machine with money once more, but the kicking evidently didn’t help. This only leads Jaemin to increase the intervals of his kicking. Soon, kicking evolves into desperately shaking the contraption.  

Bemused and shaking your head, you comment, “I don’t think your whispering is working very well.” 

He attempts one last time, but to nobody’s surprise, it fails. He tapes an out of order sign onto the glass. With hands on his hips, he exhales a lengthy sigh.  

“Sorry for your lost money. I can give you a refund.”

“Aw, no. It’s okay, it was only a couple of bucks. I was more so looking forward to playing the game, really.” 

A lightbulb goes off in Jaemin’s head. 

“Did you wanna play a game with me to make up for it instead?” 

Although he enunciates the question slowly, cautious of your reply and potential rejection, there’s a contrasting smug expression on his face. Your teeth tug at your bottom lip, about to answer, but then you pout.  

“Aren’t you working right now though?” 

Jaemin shrugs nonchalantly, “It’s kind of slow at the moment and I can argue that I’m maintaining the game.”

“Like what you were just doing with the claw machine?” 

“Exactly.” 

Both of you laugh in unison, gazes converging together. If only the strong sparks flying between you two could somehow fix the claw machine... but then again, you would’ve never had a reason to speak to the beautiful boy in the first place. 

“Sure, what game did you have in mind?” 

Tapping a finger on his chin, Jaemin runs the possibilities in his head. What’s a game that he can easily impress you with his skills, but is also equally fun for you to play? 

“Super Bike?” he offers. 

You nod with a small smile, “Okay, lead the way.” 

Thankfully, as the two of you arrive at the game, no one’s currently playing. You jump onto the left motorcycle, while Jaemin gets onto the right. He enjoys how you cutely sway back and forth, accustoming yourself to the fake motorbike. He gives you a quick breakdown of the controls, and tells you to focus only on the gas and brake since he’ll choose automatic transmission to make things easier for you. You hum with puffed cheeks, ready to play. 

Following Jaemin’s choices of the easiest map level and transmission settings, the race immediately starts. 

Jaemin can play Super Bike in his sleep, so he starts off the first half of the lap with his eyes on his screen, then for the second half, he looks over at you for a few moments. You’re glued to your screen. The glint in your eyes sparkles with pure amusement and an edge of competitiveness. He breathes in the enticing sight, especially as you bite your lip with heightened focus. 

But then, flashes of red flare upon your face. Jaemin’s heart knocks nervously at his chest because the flashes are coming from the sign above your screen with the words ”RACE LEADER”. He’s dragged straight into the match again, not wanting to lose.  

“Have you played this before?” he shouts over the background noises and music. 

“Only a few times,” you shrug lightly. Your eyebrows raise as Jaemin catches up, trailing almost nose to nose with the end of your motorcycle, yet the finish line is approaching fast. Narrowing your eyes, you accelerate and curve around the last bit of the map without struggle. Before you know it, you reach the finish line right before Jaemin does. 

As the first place win radiates from your screen, you pump your arms in the air and remove yourself from the bike. 

On the other hand, Jaemin’s gaze is stuck on the screen, jaw hanging. The big two taunts him with every flicker.  

“Well, that was fun. Thanks for the game—” 

You’re about to ask for his name, but his odd reaction catches you off-guard. You take a step closer to him until someone cries out:   

“That’s Super Bike girl!”

Swinging your head towards the origin of the cry, you see a boy jog over with a wave of his index finger. Chenle’s voice breaks the arcade attendant out of his frozen state. Jaemin whips his head towards you, still on the motorbike.   

“You’re Super Bike girl?!” he echoes, eyebrows knitted. 

“I already have a nickname around here?” you giggle. “I only played this game once a few days ago.” 

Chenle asks him, “Did Biker Girl beat you?” 

Jaemin avoids the inquiry, darting his eyes and pressing his lips together tightly. The friend passes the question onto you with owl eyes, and you shyly nod. 

“Oh, my God, and I missed it?!” He huffs in disappointment, but then recollects himself as he takes a few steps toward you. 

“Are you free after seven to come back and play again? Our friends need to witness this. This is history in the making.” 

Immediately, Jaemin shoots daggers into Chenle. The daggers definitely have profanities written all over. You catch a glimpse of Jaemin and can practically read every word.  

“Uhm,” you lower your voice, despite the fact Jaemin can still hear you. “Your friend looks pretty pissed. I feel kinda bad to just come back to beat him in front of people.”

“Oh, don’t worry about feeling bad,” the attendant’s friend waves his hand carelessly. “He always makes us feel bad when he constantly brags about how he’s the best at every game in here.” 

“Is that so?” You glance at the boy on the bike with a new perspective. You could definitely see this guy as cocky, but maybe he’s still sweet underneath the exterior. You also wouldn’t mind seeing him once more before you head home, and now you had a reason. 

“Well, count me in. I’ll be back at seven on the dot.” 

With a flutter of your fingers, you say your temporary good-byes to the pair of boys and head out of the arcade. Jaemin finally props himself off the motorbike, getting back to work.   

Passing by Chenle, he half-jokingly seethes, “I hate you,” into his ear. 

Without a care in the world, Chenle frantically messages their group chat to come by the mall later to witness the match of a lifetime. 

“Hey, did I miss it?” Mark pants as he puts an arm around Jeno from behind. 

“No, you got here right on time. Super Bike girl should be coming any time soon.” 

On the backend of the motorbike, Jaemin sits at the edge of it, studying the modest crowd around the racing simulator. Along with Jisung and Chenle, several of Jaemin’s other close friends are here to cheer for his downfall. For those who aren’t there, his friends are equipped with their phones in hand, ready to record the monumental event. 

Weaving through the crowd with mumbles of “Excuse me’s,” you reach your destination and appear in front of the arcade worker. 

The rising buzz of the crowd fades from your ears and into the background within his presence. You melt at him looking so coolly, bending over the motorbike with folded arms, and give him a warm smile. 

“Just because you’ve got a sweet smile, it doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on you.” 

You playfully drop your mouth as the people around “Ooooh” in harmony. Your tongue is pressed against your lower teeth as Jaemin spins himself to the front of the bike. You get onto your previous seat from hours ago, grasping onto the fake vehicle as if you owned it.

You watch Jaemin enter the settings in. He’s not underestimating you this time and he executes his promise of not going easy on you—the hardest map and manual transmission are chosen, signaling you to really bring your A-game for this round.    

At first, the match is tight. You’re practically side by side on the map, even having the occasional opportunity to push him off track and vice-versa. Changing up techniques, as the second lap rings in, you switch transmission gears and ease on the brake for a brief moment, hugging the curve of the map. 

With that move, the red light flashes above him. Jaemin believes, no, he knows he’s going to win. Sweet victory is on the tip of his tongue, he can taste it. Ten seconds are left on the clock, ten seconds left until he beats you and continues to reign king of the game.

But, you suddenly speed past him and the game’s over before he can properly process it.  

The screams surrounding you engulf the entirety of the arcade.

Jaemin’s mouth is on the floor as he realizes he lost. 

No, his mouth is six feet under because you’re currently entering a nickname into the all-time best rankings. You beat Jaemin’s time on the map, seizing the new first place rank for the game. 

Everyone circles you in congratulations, but your eyes are honed in on one individual in the crowd. He hops off the bike, brushes past the crowd, and escapes to the counter, continuing his shift like nothing happened. Hastily, you go after him and find him crouching down behind the glass. He’s unpacking boxes filled with what you assume are prizes. 

On your forearms, you lean over the glass counter. “Hey, when does your shift end?” 

Your assumption is answered as you see him restock some of the plushies in the transparent container underneath you. 

“Why do you want to know? So you can beat me again at another game?” he grumbles, the bitterness blatant in his voice. Nevertheless, you persist. 

“‘Cause Super Bike girl wants to get to know the cute Arcade Boy she met today over dinner.” 

He pauses and his eyebrows perk up at the words cute and dinner in the same sentence. His ego is still sore, but he’ll bite.    

“Is it a date?” he presses further with a disinterested tone, continuing to move the items.  

You drag your bottom lip up, drumming your fingers slowly against the glass. 

“Only if you want it to be.” 

Your words bandage his sore ego quickly, but he wants to bathe in his pity a little while longer. He twists his mouth, fighting against the urge to show you his teeth.  

The boy stands up and leans over the counter too. He’s greeted by your strong aura, yet it doesn’t completely reach your eyes; your gaze is soft and gentle. “I get off at nine, so it’s pretty late.” 

“That’s okay. I can play games until then—” 

You peel yourself off from the glass and properly introduce yourself, holding your hand out. He glances at it for a second, then at your tender look. He gives in and can't help himself from grinning. The arcade attendant reaches for your hand and reciprocates the shake.  

“I’m Jaemin.”  

That day, Jaemin learned that losing at the arcade games wasn’t the worst thing in the world. 

EPILOGUE 

Clutching onto Jaemin’s waist underneath his leather jacket with your chin resting on his shoulder, you’re swaying side by side with him on the racing game that brought you two together. It’s his day off today, and both of you thought it’d be cute to spend some time at the arcade before the movie showing later that evening. 

“Ease on the gas!” you dictate. He rolls his eyes at your backseat driving.    

“No, it’s too early!” he protests and goes against your advice, accelerating further. When that makes him go off-road a bit, you sigh smugly while he groans meekly. 

“See, and this is why I’m better at Super Bike than you,” you tease before pecking a kiss on his cheek. Tingles rise to his cheeks.

“Yeah, but I’ve played this game a lot longer than you.” It’s the second lap and he’s inching towards the finish line.  

“Yeah, but who holds the record?” 

After he speeds through it, the list of the best times roll onto the screen. Your nickname still stands proudly at number one from the day you asked him out on a date. 

Jaemin smiles at the not-so far memory. He then twists and extends his neck over his shoulder, sharing a sweet kiss with you. Your grip around his waist tightens, your fingers sinking into his skin. His palm raises and cups your face, deepening the kiss.    

Breaking away for a moment, he says, “Yeah, well, I’m the better kisser.” 

You sweep your nose against his. “That’s up for debate…” 

Your lips meet once more lovingly.  

“Can you guys stop making out in the arcade again?” Jisung groans. “Kids are here, you know. Like me.” 

Chenle cuts in, “I thought you were glad someone beat Jaemin for once.”

“I mean, yeah, but I didn’t expect the same person to have her tongue constantly down his throat!” 

Still lip-locked, Jaemin and you smile into the next kisses from their remarks while Jisung and Chenle run off to play another game, far away from the new couple.

[naughtyneganjdm]

A Compromise - Chapter 2

Summary: The first thing Negan does with Y/N on their first night surprises her with how innocent it actually is, but a little while into their first night together she realizes that things are going to be a lot harder than she thought they would be. 

Characters: Negan, the reader (OC)

Warnings: Swearing, Dirty Sex Talk & a bit of touching

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27834154/chapters/68293072

“Oh, we’re starting off real hardcore, aren’t we?” Y/N teased as Negan pulled into the parking lot of a diner and a smile cracked in over the corners of her lips. Negan looked over his shoulder at her and gave her an odd expression before smirking. “Like I said, I was thinking of red rooms so coming here is pretty tame in comparison to what my mind was conjuring up.”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you with the lack of chains and whips,” Negan retorted with a snort, pulling his helmet off, carefully pulling himself from the motorcycle. Reaching his hand out, he urged her to grab a hold of his hand and winked. “I was just hoping to get to know you first. Talking to you at the club wasn’t all that comfortable. So, I figured I would buy you a late-night dinner and get to know you. It’s quiet and I can actually hear you.”

“And that’s what you want to do with me tonight?” she looked down at his hand while she wrapped her fingers around it. Negan helped her off of the motorcycle and she felt him pull her in closer to him making her let out a shuddering exhale. “I didn’t think I would be having a late-night dinner with someone for two hundred bucks.”

“Like I said, I’m not having sex with you any time soon. I just want to get to know you. To me, it’s well worth the two hundred bucks,” Negan reached up to nudge her chin playfully with his fingers and nodded toward the diner. “Plus, the people that work here will leave us alone and not get up in our business like I feel people would anywhere else. They are good folks here.”

“Well at least I know you’re more of a burger and fries kind of guy instead of a four-star restaurant kind of guy,” she knew that her mind had come up with multiple scenarios of what Negan was like in her head and it was almost relaxing to know that Negan was more laid back than she pictured him to be. When he was tossing money out like he was, she assumed he wanted the best of everything and debated how she would be able to please a man like that with her time.

“I can be both, but who really gets to know someone at a stuffed shirt restaurant?” Negan pointed out, his hand sliding in over the small of her back to make her follow him toward the doors of the diner. Once they were inside, Negan made eye contact with one of the waitresses and pointed toward one of the booths in the back. Following him there, she took a seat with his help and watched Negan wait for her to get comfortable before going to the other side. “Here we can just talk and not really worrying about impressing anyone. It’s a relaxed environment and I feel like when people are in those, they are more open to talking.”

“And what do you want to talk about?” she inquired, her eyebrow perking up while looking him over. She had so many questions, so many thoughts she wanted to bring up to him, but this was supposed to be his time she was on. Asking a thousand questions would likely turn him off of her and that’s the last thing she wanted to do right now.

“Well first of all, why don’t you tell me about school. What were you studying before that asshole did what he did?” Negan laid his hands over the top of the table and she couldn’t help but take notice at how long his fingers were.

“Law,” she explained feeling her cheeks flush over when she thought about her education. “I wanted to be lawyer.”

“Oh, that’s a great profession for you,” Negan chuckled, lowering his head for a moment. It seemed like he was stuck on a thought that entertained him and she tilted her head to the side. “The first case you lose, if you think the judge was being a dickhead you would knock his lights out.”

“Oh ha-ha,” she rolled her eyes, reaching up to brush her hair back and out of her face. The waitress came to ask them what they wanted and when she ordered just water, Negan gave her a frustrated glance. She didn’t really want to go out and eat while getting to know Negan. What if he was disgusted by her and decided to change his mind? She could really use this money and there was a reason he was interested in her. If she ate a certain way, she didn’t know if it would stop him from wanting to be around her. After all, tonight could be a test. She quit her job for this guy based on his offer. He saw her eat and was turned off by it, she may have made a huge mistake. “I’m not all that hungry.”

“Get something to eat,” Negan ordered, his eyes narrowing while he stared out at her expectantly. “And get something you would actually like.”

Negan had gotten himself a burger and she just went with a club sandwich hoping to get something that wouldn’t be too messy. When she was done ordering, Negan eyed her over and cocked his head, “I fully expect you to get what you want when I tell you to.”

“I wanted nothing,” she responded and Negan bit into his bottom lip clearly not believing her. “I just don’t want you changing your mind about me after I eat. You don’t need to see my chowing down on a meal and then decide I’m not worthy of your time.”

“Well, since you’re big on rules…never do that kind of thinking. Never worry about what might turn me off of you,” Negan grunted, looking over toward the front of the restaurant. “I’ve picked you; I’m sticking with you. So, when I tell you to eat, you eat…”

“Yes sir,” she somewhat laughed and Negan’s eyebrow rose at her sarcasm. It was clear he wasn’t completely enthralled with her over-the-top mocking tone and she lowered her head down. She really had to dial back the sarcasm. Lowering her head, she shrugged and wasn’t sure really what to say. “I’m going to have to work on all of these rules that you are going to come up with. Sometimes I have a mouth on me and I need to learn to tone it down.”

“We’ll get you to where you need to be,” Negan stretched out, placing his arms on the back of the booth he was in and she found herself charmed by how confident Negan appeared to be. Watching him while he surveyed the restaurant made her swoon. This guy was gorgeous and the thought that he wanted to be near her and spend time with her really blew her away. His chiseled jaw flexed when he spotted something and looked back to her. Immediately she lowered her head again. Being caught staring might be uncomfortable at this stage for him and she wanted to appear as normal as possible to him. It was just hard to understand why someone like him would want to be around someone like her. “Do you like pie?”

“Like…pie pie?” she repeated making Negan chuckle. It was hard to really know what he was attempting to ask her because she was thinking dirty thoughts based off previous things he said. With the uniqueness of the situation she was saying ridiculous things and she knew that. Hopefully he didn’t think she was simple because she wasn’t. It was just a strange situation and she was uncomfortable. When she was uncomfortable, sometimes she said some silly things. “I don’t know if you are asking something…dirty.”

“No, I mean like apple pie. They have a great apple pie here and I thought we could share some after our meal,” Negan’s face scrunched up after it was clear he was amused with her. Did he find her charming or just ridiculous? It was hard to read his expressions at this point in the game. “If I am talking to you about something sexual, you’ll know.”

“Okay,” she wasn’t sure how to respond, this was all still odd to her. She could only picture how awkward she was coming off to him. “Apple pie is…nice.”

“Good,” Negan stretched his neck out and he bit at his bottom lip. There appeared to be some tension in his neck and her first thought was rubbing it for him. God, she felt pathetic. She was desperate to touch him and be close to him only after the second night of knowing he actually existed. “So, you take school seriously?”

“It’s been my entire life for as long as I can remember,” she answered honestly knowing that there was no sense in lying. While she could pretend that she wasn’t a total geek to a sense, she knew that Negan would find out eventually that her education meant everything to her. Being honest about that she felt was key. “I’ve put my everything into my education. It’s why I’m as upset as I am about what happened with college. I was damn good at what I was doing.”

“I believe that,” Negan nodded his head, his eyes surveying her closely and it made her wonder what he was thinking about her. It was hard to read his expressions and she shifted uneasily before him in her seat. “What are you going to do about school?”

“Well they think they can expel me because they have proof that I broke the windows and set the car on fire,” she told him what he obviously already knew because of what he had heard with her and her father. “What they don’t know is that I flirted with someone from the AV club and they took the tape for me. Eventually, I’m supposed to get the tape from the guy. So, they have no proof. When the appeal comes up, the thing they think they have on me, won’t be there.”

“God damn,” Negan let out an impressed sound and he leaned forward to get closer to her. “Just when I think I won’t like you anymore than I already do, you go and say something like that. Shit! Tell me, should I be jealous of that poor sucker in the AV club?”

“No,” she made a disgusted sound and Negan’s eyebrows bounced up while he listened to her. “I just flirted with him. You’d be surprised how desperate some people can be just for a little attention.”

Y/N thought about what she said and wondered if that was appropriate to say considering the situation they were in right now. It kind of came off extremely arrogant and she didn’t know if he would be turned off by it, but he looked to be the opposite.

“You’re a fucking badass,” Negan lowered his arms and laid them back on the table again. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”

“When the world is against you Negan, you learn to do what you have to in order to get by in life,” she responded knowing that things were harder when you were a woman in the career path she was interested in. “The world doesn’t make it easy for women.”

“I like that. Hearing that you would do anything to get what you want really puts things into perspective for me,” Negan drew his tongue over his bottom lip and his hazel eyes were locked on hers. “You are something else, you know that?”

“Thank you,” she didn’t know what to say as he nearly ate her alive with his eyes. It caused a chill to fill her body and she had to force herself to look away from him. “How about you? Why are you a teacher when you could clearly do anything you want with the money you have.”

“I like feeling like I changed someone’s life for the better,” Negan grunted, “Plus I really like sports. This lets me teach while also getting to coach. I really enjoy it. A lot. People look up to me, it’s a nice feeling.”

“Ah, so you like people looking up to you,” she lifted her gaze catching the smirk that pressed in over his features. “I’m sure you have a lot of boys and girls that are drooling every time they are in your class or whenever you are coaching them.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Negan snickered acting like he didn’t even think that was a thought in his mind. “I’m sure a lot of them fucking hate me too. That’s what you get when you teach high school students.”

“I would have loved having you as a teacher,” she confessed catching the interested look that filled his face when she said that. He sat up straighter and nodded making her lick her lips. “I would have been interested in actually showing up.”

“Mmm…I think you would have been one of my favorite students,” Negan assured her with another confident wink.

“Have you ever had a relationship with a student?” she pondered knowing that this was more so about him getting to know her, but she was interested. “I always wondered these kinds of things.”

“No, but if you were my student, I would have thought about it,” Negan quickly responded making a shocked sound escape her throat. “I was married for most of my career sweetheart and if someone found out I was sleeping with a student it would ruin my career. I also tend to like my women of…age.”

“Well some of them are eighteen,” she remembered what it was like being in high school. If there was a teacher that would have been there that looked like Negan, she could have seen herself doing whatever she could to get his attention. She was sure he got that kind of thing now by people who caught on to how gorgeous he was. “At eighteen I would have loved to have you…”

“Go on,” Negan noticed she stopped when she caught herself clearly thinking something naughty. This is what he meant when he mentioned quiet places. People got comfortable and just let whatever was on their mind come out. That’s how he wanted these things. “What would you have done at eighteen and I was your professor.”

“I would have done anything to get your attention,” she asserted, biting at her bottom lip in an attempt to play coy.

“Well, in a power position it would feel wrong to accept something like that,” Negan reminded her with a simple shrug. “Kind of like that asshole professor that fucked your shit up.”

“That’s different though. I’m a damn good student. I was doing everything right and he tried to fuck me to use his power to get what he wanted,” she insisted with a firm shake of her head. “When you have a good teacher, like I’m sure you are…I would have been totally drawn to you. I don’t think you would have forced yourself on me at all. I would have likely forced myself on you.”

“Wow, we’re going there, huh?” Negan mused with a half laugh. “I’m getting the slightest sense that I may be your type Y/N.”

“Possibly,” she chortled, reaching up to rub her hand in over the side of her warm cheek. There was no doubt that she was doing some heavy blushing and she couldn’t help it. “I honestly don’t understand why someone like you…is interested in someone like me.”

“Well that’s for me to know and for you to…potentially find out in the future?” Negan slurred, trying to find the right words to say. “I like a bit of mystery.”

“No kidding,” she took notice of how things had gone done between them. “You’re a big ball of mystery for me Mr. Smith. Do you want to tell me why you are doing this in the first place?”

“Doing what?” Negan played ignorant with her, but she knew he knew that she was asking about why he was having her spend time with him for money. The look she gave him must have told him that and he laughed. “You don’t even have to speak and I know what you are thinking by that ridiculously sassy expression of yours.”

“Then you should answer the question,” she scoffed making Negan laugh again. Well at least he laughed and was amused with her. That was a plus. It would have been bad if she just annoyed him with her forward attitude. “What am I here for? Is this going to be like a purely sexual relationship that is no strings attached?”

“Listen, I’m not looking to fall in love with you or hoping to sweep you off your feet if that’s what you’re asking me,” Negan proclaimed with a small sigh. “I’m not in a position in my life where I’m ready for that.”

“I see,” she looked down toward his left hand to see that he was still wearing his wedding ring like her mother had pointed out to her previously. “Can I ask you…anything?”

“Anything,” Negan grumbled noticing that she was looking at his wedding ring that he was wearing.

“Why still wear the ring if she passed away?” Y/N wondered, knowing that it may have been a little cold for her to ask that, but it was on her mind. If Negan was looking for attention from her, why was he still wearing the ring? Negan’s cocky arrogance seemed to fade a bit while he shifted anxiously before her.

“Just because she died doesn’t mean that she isn’t still my wife Y/N,” Negan looked to his hand and eyed over the ring that he had kept on his finger. It had been there for so long; he just didn’t want to take it off. “Sometimes we need things in life that ground us. When things get a little crazy, we have that thing that pulls us back in. Lucille was that for me. It’s why I keep the ring on. It reminds me of her and it pulls me back in.”

“Lucille?” she repeated the name clearly realizing that was the name of his late wife. “I’m sorry she passed away.”

“Me too,” Negan swallowed down hard and bit down on his bottom lip. “She was an amazing woman.”

There was a silence between them because she didn’t want to say something to upset him any further than she clearly had already done. Negan played with the ring over his finger with his thumb before lifting his gaze to her.

“I’m going to assume that you aren’t dating anyone since you took my offer?” Negan acknowledged and she sighed heavily before nodding. “So, no one special?”

“I told you, education has been my primary focus for a while,” she confessed and Negan rest his chin on his palm while getting comfortable listening to her after bracing his elbow on the table. “It’s been quite some time since I’ve had anyone special in my life.”

“So, are you a virgin?” Negan simply blurt out making her cheeks flush over and she lowered her head to look at the ground beneath the table. “Don’t be embarrassed. Whatever you answer won’t make me like you any less.”

“No, I’m not,” she responded simply and Negan wiggled his head about as if to say she was being vague.

“Have you had a lot of sex then?” Negan uttered and she shrugged.

“What’s a lot of sex for someone my age?” she attempted to get a feel for what he thought about things and he threw his other hand out as if to say he didn’t know. The answer was no, she wasn’t very experienced, but she didn’t quite want to admit that knowing he may have been looking for something a little more than what she had to offer. “Have you had a lot of sex?”

“What’s a lot of sex for someone my age?” Negan almost mocked her with an amused smile and she rolled her eyes at him. “You not being a virgin makes things easier to be honest with you.”

“How’s that?” she was confused as to why he would say something like that.

“When you sleep with someone for the first time, it should be special. You know?” Negan stated with a tilt of his head.

“Apparently I missed that memo,” she exhaled heavily and Negan gave her an interested expression. “I was at that point in my life where everyone was going crazy about having sex. I felt out of place for not having sex and I was trying to figure out why everyone was so big on it.”

“That’s a horrible reason to have sex,” Negan grunted and she felt her face flushing over. Why was she being so honest with him about this?

“Long story short, I did it to find out what the big deal was and to feel not like a loser,” she muttered and Negan nodded, the look he was giving her changing when she said that. “I wish I could get those few minutes back…”

“It wasn’t good?” Negan prodded further and she laughed. “What wasn’t good about it?”

“It was more so uncomfortable and the guy it was with, I was just ready for it to be over,” she admitted with a hesitant sound. “He thought he was impressive and he definitely thought he was hot.”

“And he wasn’t, huh?” Negan grumbled, his eyes narrowing out at her as she tilted her head to the side. It felt weird talking to him about her first experience with sex.

“He thought he was spectacular at sex and God’s gift to women. Let’s just say he wasn’t all that impressive,” she frowned, looking down toward the table again and she felt embarrassed to be saying this.

“See, it’s hard for me to picture that you can’t get a decent lover,” Negan informed her with an expecting glance. “You just told me that you flirted with the AV club guy to get what you wanted. You’re hot, you know you’re hot. So I feel like you could have gotten whoever you wanted.”

“I’m good with flirting Negan. I know how to use what I have to get what I want. It doesn’t make me a slut,” she snorted and Negan’s eyebrows perked up when she said it. “I slept with someone people considered hot and it didn’t take much convincing. Trust me a lot of girls at my school would have been jealous that I got him, but he wasn’t a big prize like most of the girls thought he was.”

“You excite me the more you say to me,” Negan hummed thinking about some of the words she used. “You’re nervous, but you are extremely confident. You’re a badass, but also down to Earth. Fuck, I like learning the layers of you.”

“You make me sound exciting,” she rolled her eyes and Negan tapped his hands against the table. “What about you? I’m sure your first time was much better than mine.”

“My first time was a long time ago,” Negan snorted seeing the way her cheeks flushed over again and he smiled. “What would you say if I told you I was a geek and I didn’t get laid until college?”

“I wouldn’t believe you,” she answered and Negan gave her a sideway glance.

“You’d be right,” Negan shrugged, throwing his hands up. “It was worth a shot.”

“You were definitely a jock and you were very popular,” she took notice of the way he acted. There was an air to Negan that showed he was admired most of his life. He was cocky and there was a reason. People always let him be cocky. He was good looking and he knew it. “You likely slept with most of the school.”

“Maybe,” Negan paused to think of what he should say next. “I was the captain on our basketball team in high school.”

“And did you or did you not sleep with most of the cheerleaders?” she egged him on and watched Negan’s features scrunch up with amusement. “I know I’m right.”

“Mhmm,” Negan slowly nodded, biting into his bottom lip. “You want me to be honest with you?”

“It’s a night of honesty,” she retorted with a dramatic shrug. “So why not?”

“In college I stayed with a friend of mine. We lied and said I was her brother so that way I didn’t have to pay for a place to stay. It was a building with nothing, but girls…” Negan admitted almost making a pleased look for himself. “Let’s just say, when you are the only male in a building, girls are pretty damn eager to…get to know you.”

“Of course you did,” she lowered her head into her palm, letting out an amused sound.

“Does that turn you off of me?” Negan poked, his eyes hooked on her when she lifted her gaze again.

“As you said Negan, you’re completely my type,” she reminded him, hating to confess that to him. “I would have been one of them hoping to understand why sex was so damn good and why everyone wanted to sleep with you. Maybe you would make me realize why sex is so damn good.”

“I’m better now than I was then,” Negan almost flirted with her making her shudder. “I know what a woman wants now. Then, I was just happy to be getting laid at the rate I was. I thought I was such big shit.”

“Well, I bet the people you slept with felt lucky. Unlike I felt with the guy I slept with,” she brought back her past and let out a long sigh. “It’s one of the biggest regrets I’ve had in my life and I’m still wondering why people are crazy about sex.”

“You just didn’t have the right partner,” Negan insisted, reaching out to place his hand over hers to give it a firm squeeze. “Once you find the right one, you’ll never get enough of it.”

“Yeah?” her eyebrow rose as she leaned in closer to him at the table. “Why is that? What would you do to make me enjoy it? Now, not back when you were younger.”

“You want me to go there?” Negan grinned with air of arrogance. When she nodded, he took a look around the diner and made sure they were secluded so no one could hear them. “Give me a situation. Where are we?”

“Let’s go with where we are now,” she looked around the small diner. “What would you do to make sure that I enjoyed it?”

“Well, first of all…” Negan lowered his voice, his eyes narrowing out at her. “I would get up from this side of the table and slide in beside you. I’d start kissing your neck, learning the places you liked to be touched. Since you’re wearing that sexy little skirt, I would caress over your thigh with my hand in teasing strokes. I’d gradually slide my hand up between your thighs and trace over your panties with my fingertips. I’d make sure my eyes were locked on yours to be sure I could see which ways I touched you made you shudder or shake. After I knew that you were turned on and full of lust, I’d push your panties aside and push this finger inside of you.”

She watched him raise his hand up and wiggle one of his fingers. Listening to him was drawing her cheeks to turn a light shade of red again and he could sense that her breathing had gotten heavier while he was talking, “I’d finger you, urging you to make sure that you stayed quiet while we were in here because we wouldn’t want to be caught. After you were nice and wet, I would put a second finger in. I’d vary with slow thrusts of my fingers to quick. It would be based on if you were about to have an orgasm or not. If you were close, I would slow down, making sure to drag it out. When we could get away, I’d go to the bathroom and instruct you to follow me in there. When we were alone, I’d make sure the door was locked and I’d hoist you up on the sink. I’d take your panties off and put them in my pocket. Get down on my knees and eat our your pretty little pussy. It would be about dragging out the pleasure for you. I would use my fingers and tongue in equal amounts teasing your clit while also focusing on hitting your g-spot. I’d do it until I had you screaming out my name having your first orgasm.”

“Yeah?” she was eager for him to continue as Negan checked to make sure they were still alone within reason. The undoubtable pounding of her heart inside of her chest was felt and she felt goosebumps pressing in over her arms. Truthfully, this was making a warmth pool at her core and it ached. Negan was turning her on incredibly bad by just his words and it was hard to admit it, but it was true.

“Just when you thought you were at the peak of your pleasure, I would let you take my cock out because something tells me that you would eagerly like to get me out of my pants yourself,” Negan looked down toward his groin, a wicked smirk pressing in over his handsome features when his eyes lifted back to hers. “I’d have you put me inside of you and I would make sure to kiss you while you got used to my size.”

“I take it that means you are big,” she felt her throat go dry and Negan sat up straighter.

“I’m six foot one,” Negan cleared his throat and she felt her frustrations getting the best of her when he clearly teased her again.

“You know I mean your dick,” she simply stated, licking at her lips. “I’m trying to put an image in my mind and make this as realistic as possible. “Do you have a big cock?”

The sound of a surprised breath fell over them making Negan choke in amusement when the waitress had brought their drinks to the table. An incredible amount of embarrassment filled her entire body as she groaned inwardly and lowered her head into her palm after seeing the look on the waitress’s face.

“Thank you,” Negan was chuckling when the waitress swiftly walked away from the table. “Very subtle. We’re clearly going to have to teach you to do things on the downlow so we don’t involve other people and make it uncomfortable.”

“Why didn’t you tell me she was coming?” she lifted her head from her hand and could see that Negan was completely amused with her.

“I didn’t know where you were going with it,” Negan snickered, lowering his head to laugh to himself. “It’s why I answered my height.”

“After all of this, I think you at least owe me an answer,” she claimed nodding toward him when he lifted his head to look up at her. “I did just embarrass the hell out of myself there.”

“It’s pretty good,” Negan rubbed at the back of his neck, letting out a strained noise.

“What does that mean?” she was flustered with his answer and it was clear he liked screwing with her.

“It means it’s bigger than the average size,” Negan bit at his bottom lip, his tongue flicking out over his bottom lip. “I’m not a horse or anything of the sort…”

“So bigger than six inches?” she confirmed making Negan grin over her interest.

For someone who hated sex as much as she said she did, it entertained him that she was so sexual with him about her questions. It really was flattering that she was so hot and bothered by him.

“Why? Do you want a monster cock after your first experience?” Negan teased her and she let out an agitated sound. “Yes, it’s bigger than six inches and it’s thick. Would you like me to continue or would you like excruciating details of my penis so that way if you ever do see it you aren’t surprised at all?”

“Keep going,” she almost begged looking around to make sure the waitress wasn’t anywhere near their table. “Please.”

“Okay,” Negan watched her scooting in closer to the table and he found it cute that she was so eager to hear how they would finish in his little story. “Once you were used to my…size…”

The way in which he said that made a smile crack in over his lips. Well one thing was for certain, he certainly was someone that liked fucking with her and liked getting her hot with what he was saying.

“I would start off at a slow pace making sure that your eyes were hooked on mine. Once you were relaxed, I would make each thrust just a little bit harder. I’d want you to hold onto my shoulders tightly so that when I started fucking you harder you would have something to brace yourself with. When it seemed like you were about cum, I would stop. I’d get you on your feet and make you face the mirror. You’d brace your hands on the mirror while I thrust into you from behind. I’d make you watch me fuck you while my fingers rubbed your clit at the same tempo I was thrusting my cock inside of you. This time you would be allowed to cum. Near the end I would make it so you could crawl in over me and ride my cock to your own accord. Letting you control when I get to cum. You’d bring yourself to another orgasm before making me cum inside of your tight little pussy. We’d kiss until I went soft inside of you…”

“Wow,” she breathed out slowly, feeling certain parts of her tingling when Negan explained just what he would do to her. An involuntary shiver filled her entire body and she waved her hand in the air. “You are…”

“Oh look, our meal,” Negan rubbed his hands together when the waitress came back with their food. Instead of being able to say what she wanted, she swallowed down hard and avoided making eye contact with the waitress. “Thank you darlin’.”

The area around Y/N felt like it was spinning and she was doing her best to bring herself back down from the high his story gave her. Negan had started to eat, but when he noticed she wasn’t eating he gave a wicked smirk.

“Eat your food sweetheart,” Negan winked and during their meal he asked her questions about herself that were rather innocent. They talked about things to get to know each other better on a more personal level that didn’t really involve anything sexual. How he went from being that…sexual to just talking like it never happened blew her mind. She was still heated and she could tell that Negan got her mighty excited. When they were done, Negan ordered a single piece of pie and when it came to the table, he grabbed a forkful to hold his hand out for her to take a bite. “Open wide.”

“Yes sir,” she smirked parting her lips for him to feed her the bite of pie. When she made a pleased sound, he was proud and grabbed a bite for himself. “This was nice.”

“Yeah, it was,” Negan agreed with a loud sigh, thinking things over as he took a couple more bites from the pie. Slowly, Negan pulled himself up from the side of the table that he was on. Taking a seat on the same booth as her, he urged her further in wrapping his left arm around her shoulders. The way she gasped made him smile while his hazel eyes hooked on hers. “This has been quite an eye opener for me. You know? I’m glad you agreed to this. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed with agreeing to this whole thing.”

“Yeah?” she felt heated when he leaned in closer to her. His right hand grabbed a hold of her jaw and she felt his lips pressing in over her jawline making her take in a sharp breath. The sensation of his lips trailing over the side of her neck caused her eyes to slam shut. She was tremoring and she knew he was doing what he told her would be the first thing he would do if they had sex at the diner.

“You are something else,” he muttered against her flesh, biting softly at her skin. A small moan fell from her throat and Negan’s gaze lifted to look at the diner to make sure she hadn’t drawn attention to them. When he was certain they were fine, he went back to depositing wet kisses over her skin taking the time to see what areas seemed to drive her the craziest with desire. “I think the two of us are going to have a lot of fun together.”

“I think so too,” she agreed, biting into her bottom lip when his rough palm settled in over her bare thigh. The roughness of his skin tickled hers and it drew her to spread her legs further apart for him. Negan was pleased with himself and he continued to slide his hand further up her thigh. “Negan…”

“Yeah?” Negan hummed against her neck, his tongue flicking out over her skin before nipping again.

Sliding forward in her seat when she felt Negan’s fingers exceedingly close to her panties, she found herself ridiculously excited at the idea that he was doing what he had told her at the beginning of his story. It wasn’t like her to want to have sex with someone like this, but there was something about Negan that just drew her to him. God, he was so sexy.

“We should probably pay for the bill,” Negan pulled his hand back and his mouth away from her neck. A desperate sound fell from her throat when he had clearly tormented her with the idea of what he had said in his story. “I should get you home. It’s been a busy night for you.”

“What…what about the bathroom?” she suggested and Negan lifted his gaze to look in the direction where the bathrooms were. “Don’t you want to go in there?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Negan reached up to swipe thumb in over her jawline. It was clear that he was teasing her. He got her excited at the idea of what he had told her before they had eaten, but he wasn’t going to give that to her. “I don’t need to go.”

“But…” she tried to reason with Negan watching him get up to pay the bill. She was shaking. Her breathing was heavy and she was truly heated. More than anything she wanted Negan to take her into the bathroom and do just what he had said he would. Yet, he was fucking with her. Her lips parted and she swallowed down hard. “Fuck.”

“You ready to go sweetheart?” Negan reached for her hand and helped her up from the seat she was in. When he noticed her legs shaking, he stepped forward and made sure his lips were pressed to her ear. “Just how wet is your pussy right now?”

“You could find out,” she whispered and Negan laughed against her flesh making a chill run down her spine again.

“I think I’ll wait for a better opportunity,” Negan hushed her, pressing a soft kiss against her earlobe before tugging softly on her hand to get her to come with him to his motorcycle. The urge to beg Negan to desperately fuck her was there, but she didn’t want to come off completely pathetic. Shuddering, she got back on the motorcycle with him and heard him let out a satisfied breath. “Make sure you hold really tight to me baby. I’m going to take you home.”

“What about my car?” she thought back to the fact she had driven herself to work before Negan convinced her to come with him. “It’s still at the club.”

“Tell your parents that you were feeling sick and a friend drove you home,” Negan answered like it was no big deal at all. “They will take you to pick it up in the morning.”

And like that, she didn’t fight him. Holding tightly to him, she rest her cheek against his back as he drove them home. It was a nice feeling that she wasn’t quite ready to end when Negan finally did get home. When he pulled into his driveway, she was disappointed and wanted the night to last longer.

Steadying herself on her Jell-O feeling legs, she rubbed at her arms and could see Negan staring out at her with an expecting glance.

“Do you…want me to come in?” she pointed toward his house and Negan’s eyebrow arched up. A wolfish smile pulled at his lips and he shook his head slowly. “We could get to know each other a little bit better.”

“Not tonight,” Negan denied her, shoving his hands in his pockets while he turned his attention back to her. Why was he being so damn difficult? “I think we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well for tonight. We can end it here.”

“I still feel like there is so much more to learn,” she reasoned with him and Negan nodded.

“Which is why I look forward to our future encounters,” Negan stepped forward, getting exceedingly close to her. The warmth of his breath over her face caused her to shudder and she found herself leaning in closer to him. With his eyes on hers the way they were, she felt connected to Negan in a way that made her eager to get to know him more. “I’ll see you morning.”

“Wait…aren’t you going to kiss me?” she called out to him when he pulled away from her to leave. “That’s the perfect way to end the night, right?”

“Would it be perfect for me…or perfect for you?” Negan stepped forward nuzzling his nose against the side of her neck when he lowered his head. Negan dragged his bottom lip over her flesh making her whimper out. Dragging the back of his fingers over her lower abdomen, Negan bit back a groan himself. “Can I touch you.”

“Yes,” she shuddered when Negan slid his palm between her thighs to palm in over her mound. It made her cry out into his collarbone, burying her face against his leather jacket. Negan hummed with approval when he managed to slip his hand beneath the material of her panties. All he did was slide his palm over her body before a proud sound fell from his throat.

“You are so fucking wet,” Negan growled, pulling his hand from her panties and bringing his fingers up to his lips. There was a wicked smirk over his handsome face when he sucked softly at his fingertips. “I have a direct order for you tonight. I know when I leave you tonight, you are going to want to touch yourself when you’re in bed tonight. You’ll want that release because I’ve got you fucking soaked and aching…”

Involuntarily she was shaking and Negan grunted when he reached to pull her close to him, “but you aren’t allowed to touch yourself. You can’t shower, you can’t masturbate…you are to go to bed immediately. You need to get your sleep because I expect you here bright and early tomorrow after you get your car. I have plans for you. So, in the morning you can shower and get yourself ready, but not tonight.”

“That doesn’t seem fair,” she bickered in a soft voice and Negan let out a disappointed tsking sound.

“You’re not allowed to, no matter what,” Negan maintained, pressing a long kiss over the side of her face. “If I find out you did, you’ll be punished for it and trust me…you’re the type that can’t hide lying very well so I will know.”

“Yes sir,” she obeyed and Negan back stepped away from her, his amused breath filling the air.

“Good girl,” Negan clicked his tongue at the top of his mouth and leaned back in a dramatic manner. “I’m so proud of you.”

There was a silence while Negan clearly thought hard about something and he held his hand out to her, “Give me your phone.”

Listening, she handed him over her phone and saw him typing something in. When he handed it back to her, she could see that he put his phone number into her phone and sent himself a text so he would have her number as well. When Negan started to move away from her, she was thinking a desperate way to try and keep him there with her.

“So, no kiss?” she reaffirmed and Negan nodded once. Damn, that was disappointing. She imagined kissing him was amazing and the fact he wasn’t doing it made her even more uncomfortable than before. “Well, goodnight I guess.”

“Sleep tight,” Negan wiggled his fingers and headed back toward his home. Moving back to her parent’s house, she found herself staring as Negan moved into his home. He didn’t even look back over his shoulder at her and it disenchanted her.

Truthfully, the perfect night would have been doing exactly what he told her in his story, but instead she ended up with this. Heading inside she went upstairs and crawled into her bed after getting dressed for bed. There was a strong ache at her core and she looked to the time. Negan wouldn’t know if she touched herself, right?

Biting firmly into her bottom lip, she closed her eyes and pictured everything he told her at the diner tonight. It was easy to picture in her mind and even though she wanted to caress over her aching body, she knew that she was given an order not to. Whining, she looked toward the window and wondered if Negan was thinking of her the way she was thinking of him.

Damn, it was going to be hard to sleep tonight thinking about Negan. Especially when she was desperate for tomorrow morning. She was excited to see what Negan had in store for her in the morning. If it was anywhere near this, she figured it was something she would definitely be happy with.

Tags: @slutlanna976​​​​  @nubbinrobin​​​​ @oreostars​​​  @fuckthis-and-fuckthat​​​​ @jennydehavilland​​​​ @felicity291​​​ @de-gabyconamor​​​ @ibelongtonegan​​​​ @smallsadjellyfish​​​ @labyrinthofheartagrams​​​  @msjamesmarch​​​ @thebeautysurrounds​​​ @hotfornegan​​​ @redmercysugar​​​ @caprithebunny​​​ @iluvneganandjamie​​​ @ninamarietwd​​​ @tuttifuckinfruitty​​​ @emoryhemsworth​​​ @a-girl-interupted​​​ @akumune​​​ @stoneyggirl​​​ @insertneganhere​ @haleygreen23​

[lilacyennefer]

The One

A/N: So, I had the inspiration for this little fic while I was listening to "The 1" by Taylor Swift. Forgive me if there's any mistakes. Feedback is always appreciated :) 

WARNING: smut, angst

It started as a summer romance, that evolved into mad love, and ended in a heartbreak. 

You were 23, and he was 25 when the two of you met. 

Your grandmother lived in a small town in California, and you decided to visit her for the summer, spend some time with her while you can. 

That’s when you met with Jax Teller, a handsome, young, local biker. 

It started on a rainy day, it was rare to rain during the summer in California, but it decided to rain on a day when you were wearing a thin top, and a short, and you were walking home. 

You were on the streets when it started raining, it was pouring rain, like nature decided to let months worthy of rain go in a few hours. 

You tried to pull yourself together as much as you could, but it didn’t work at all as you were walking home now in the empty streets of Charming.

That’s when you heard the roaring of a motorcycle, that you learned to ignore since you arrived in town. You ignored it, until you heard someone constantly yell words at you.

You stop in your tracks as you look up, you’re completely soaked at this point, when you look at the young biker standing in front of you. 

“I’m sorry, you said something?” you asked the blonde man sitting on his bike. 

“I asked if you would like me to give you a ride?” he says with a smile, a smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

You’re hesitating, not sure what to answer. A part of you really wanted to run away from him, he had a reputation, his motorcycle club had a reputation, you heard that they were dangerous. But your other part, the bigger part, wanted to hop on his bike, and run away with this handsome man. 

“I’d like that, thank you.” you smile back at him when the bigger part of you won. 

You walked closer to the blonde biker, he unbuckled his helmet and handed it over to you, before you sat behind him, wrapping your arms around his body tightly. 

------

Your first date happened a week ago, at the local diner. 

It was an old diner, when you walked in, it looked like you dropped into the 60s, it was your typical american diner. 

Jax picked you up on his bike, he was wearing his kutte, and his trademark smirk, that made your heart jump every time.

Jax was the handsomest, you’d dare to say that the most beautiful man that you’ve ever seen, and besides that, he was fun, smart, charismatic, and dangerous. 

You spent your date talking about everything, you told Jax about your life, your studies, everything, and he listened, drank in every word of yours, his curious eyes never leaving you. 

You caught him several times, looking at your lips, especially when you wrapped them around the straw in your strawberry milkshake.

At the end of your date, Jax took you home on his bike.

“I had a lot of fun tonight.” he said when both of you got off of his bike, standing in front of each other. 

“Me, too.” you smiled, looking down at your feet from the nervousness that you suddenly feel.

You feel Jax’s rough hands on your chin, lifting your head up so you would look at him. 

“May I kiss you?” he asks softly, licking his lips as he waits for your answer. 

You mimic his action, tongue slipping over your bottom lip, wetting your lips before you whisper a “yes”.

Jax looks deeply into your eyes, his blue orbs burn into yours, mischief tingling in them. The young biker took your face in his hands, he licked his lips one more time before he leaned closer to you, pressing his lips to yours. 

The first thing that you noticed is how soft his lips are, and how deliciously his light stubble tickles your skin.

But you don’t have much time to think about all these, the moment he moves his lips against yours, you get lost in the feeling, in feeling him. 

Jax swore he never felt anything this perfect ever, and when you let out a tiny moan against his lips, he could feel his cock twitch in response, and he couldn't wait to make you moan some more. 

Your sweet moan against Jax’s lips guaranteed access to your mouth, making it easy for Jax to slip his tongue in, massaging your tongue with his.

You only pulled away to break the kiss when your lungs were burning for air, but even when you pulled away, your hands were gasping Jax’s arms tightly.

“Let me take you out to another date.” Jax says in a hoarse voice, but you, being unsure to speak yet, just nodded with a smile. 

------

Jax looked down at you as he pounded into you hard.

You were laying on his bed in his dorm, your eyes were closed from the pleasure that he’s causing to you as he pounds into you, making you moan and scream from the ecstasy that he makes you feel, with every thrust, every kiss, and every bite.

Jax can’t take his eyes away from you, the pleasure is written all over your face, your skin is covered in a thin layer of sweat, making you glow, and your boobs are bouncing every time he slams his dick inside you. 

Jax has been with many women before, but there was something in you that made him feel things that he didn’t feel since Tara left, since he was a teenager, and it scared him.

“Jax!” the sweet moan of his name snapped the biker out of his thoughts, he looked down at your squirming body, felt you tighten around him, until you screamed his name in ecstasy. 

He hid his face in your neck as you pulsated around him, making Jax bite down on his lips to keep him from cumming. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Jax murmurs into your neck before he pulled out from you.

“Hmm, you didn’t come.” you note, still breathless from your orgasm. 

Jax licks a drop of sweat from between your boobs, making you giggle, and tangle your fingers in his long, golden hair. 

“I want to cum in your mouth.” Jax murmurs against your lips, his thumb stroking your flushed cheek. 

You place your hand on his chest, gently pushing him down back on the bed, and he obligates, laying down on the bed with his signature smirk on his lips. 

You kiss Jax sweetly before you move into a comfortable position on the bed, between his spread legs.

You take his glistening cock in your hand, wrapping your fingers around him, just the way he likes it, your hand is easily slipping up and down around him, making a small noise that is caused solely by your own wetness on him. 

You look up at Jax with a smirk on your lips, his blue eyes are intensely watching your every more.

You wrap your swollen lips around his leaking tip, tasting the mixture of your wetness, and his precum as you slowly swirled your tongue around him, moaning from the taste. 

“C’mon baby, don’t tease.” Jax says through gritted teeth, he was already close when he was inside of you, and now feeling your lips wrapped around him, and your tongue teasing him, pushed Jax closer and closer to his pleasure. 

You don’t tease him more, you started bobbing your head, lips wrapped tightly around him as you suck him in your mouth, pushing Jax closer to release. 

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna cum!” Jax groans, pushing his hips up, his cock slips deeper down in your throat until you feel his hot cum fill your mouth, making you swallow every drop of him.

------

Your summer romance started going downhill when Jax started to distance himself from you. He was spending more time at the club, on runs, and more time with croweaters. 

You don’t know what you did, or didn’t do, that made Jax act like this, but you were sure that he would break your heart.

Jax hated himself, he hated himself because what was supposed to be a summer romance, a fling, made him feel things he buried deep down inside of him, so no one would break his heart again. 

He hated himself because he didn’t have the nerves to tell you face to face that he doesn’t want to continue this anymore, which he also knew it was a lie, but he hoped that if he ignores you, you’ll leave him alone, and leave the town eventually.

When you had enough of his silence, you went to the clubhouse, where you knew he was staying. 

SAMCRO had a party that night, which you absolutely didn’t know anything about.

You walked into the crowded clubhouse, looking for Jax, only to find him sitting on a couch, with a croweater in his lap. 

Your heart dropped from the view in front of you, Jax didn’t see you, he was busy whispering sweet nothings in her ear.

You take a deep breath, trying to swallow your pain, and hold back your tears, as you step up to Jax. 

“You know” you start, making the woman and Jax look at you, his expression fades quickly “I’d think that you’re a man enough to tell me face to face that you don’t want to be with me anymore, but I guess, you are not a real man.” you spit, grabbing the open beer bottle from the table and spilling it all over Jax and the woman.

You don’t wait for their reply, or reactions, as you storm out of the clubhouse, never going back. 

The next day, you left Charming.

------

It took you more than a year until you visited Charming again, more than a year until you saw Jax again. 

You were walking out of the grocery store, you grabbed a few things for your dinner to cook with your grandma, when you bumped into a strong body.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” you say quickly, before you look up to see Jax standing in front of you.

You feel your stomach drop from the sight of him, your mouth a small ‘oh’.

“I didn’t know you were in town again.” Jax said, just as surprised as you. 

“I’m visiting my grandma.” you state.

You take a few seconds to look at Jax, his blonde hair is still long, he still doesn’t have a beard, only a light stubble. He didn’t change at all.

“Y/N, I’m..” Jax sighs, and you wait for him to continue “I’m sorry what I did to you, and how I treated you. You were right, I should have broken up with you face to face.”

“I just want to know, Jax.” you say firmly “Why did you do it?” you asked the question that has been haunting you in the past year. 

You see Jax hesitate, he shifts his weight from one leg to another, his gaze avoids yours.

“I was scared.” he confesses “I started catching feelings, and that scared the shit out of me.”

You take a deep breath, thinking about what he just said. 

“You know, I always thought that you were the One.” you say shyly. 

During your time with Jax, you were convinced that he was the one you’re going to spend your life with, until the moment he broke your heart.

Your confession made Jax smirk a little.

“It would’ve been sweet.” he says “You’re a really nice girl, and you deserve someone better than me.”

You nod “That’s true.” you agree with Jax, to his surprise.

“I hope you find your match.” you say, then walk away from him.

Taglist: @innerpaperexpertcloud @lady-evans @claudiahxrdy @oldstuffnewstuff @keithseabrook27 @alexa-rae-dreamz​ @rocketqueen @woahitslucyylu @de-profundis-ad-astra​ @mylifeliterally @happyhenners​ @rosieposie0624 @hotdamnhunnam​ @palaiasaurus64 @phoenixhalliwell​ @witching-hour @starrynite7114​ @gemini0410​ @rebelwrites​ 

[thesolotomyhan]

Narcos México/Narcos: Dating them would include: (6/7)

real quickly mis amores! I know everyone on this fandom is in love with this king, the man, the myth, and the legend Pacho mf Herrera, so I tried my best to keep gender neutral -I know I’m really bad at that, im sorry! :( I might’ve slipped up on the NSFW part, forgive me, but I hope I did alright, enjoy! :)) 

Also, I want to thank the lovely queen @cheriehyuck for giving me inspiration on this, sorry to bother you💖 I luv u💫

Tags: ​@fandomnerd16 , @visintaes​ , @sheeshgivemeabreak​

Warnings: NSFW!

dating Pacho would be so passionate and so full of intense love, it makes my heart hurt

Su vida no está completa sin ti :(

You can’t convince me otherwise that he’s a softy for his partner, he’s able to let his guard down-

Whenever you’re not with him, he can be the most serious mf there is, he’ll be constantly clenching his jaw and  carrying a scowl on his face,,,

But, when you are with him, he’s smiling nonstop with the biggest fucking heart eyes -he’s whipped , no one can make him feel that way other than you-

There is never a dull moment with him,, he’s always making you laugh with the things he’ll whisper into your ear

Can you imagine him doing this shit in front of Miguel Angel tho?

Like the way he’ll hug you and whisper to you as he stares down Miguel, who’s already scared shitless with your appearances

It only makes Felix sweat even more when he sees you laugh as Pacho smiles down at you and back to Miguel, -

He always has his hands resting on your waist as he walks around with you with the smugest look on his face,,,

God, he doesn’t even have to introduce you to anyone because they already know who you are, like they’re already getting up to kiss your cheek and welcome you both- the power*

He’s so soft for you,  anything you need or want, he’s doing it for you with the smallest smile, no questions asked 

Like, you’ll both be at a party and then you’ll mention that you want a drink from the bar and he’s getting up so fast, he almost knocks over the whole fucking table to get you your drink

I can see Chepe roasting the shit out of Pacho for that, like

“Hijueputa, Pacho, con calma, no se va ir la cantina”

Then like Gilberto’s wise ass is cutting in like,

“Chepe, pues, son pajaritos enamorados, dejenlos, tu ya pasaste por eso”

He would get so much shit for the things he’s willing to do for you,  but if it makes you happy, then you best believe he’ll do it again.

And honestly the Cali cartel live for seeing how you just have to snap your fingers and Pacho’s already moving,

God, they listen like chismosos when you talk about your and Pacho’s relationship, they’re invested, -

Pacho is a fashion icon ™,,, so you best believe he has the best, top of the line outfits for you, :))

Taking you out for dates is one of his favorite things to do honestly,,

He’s making sure you enjoy everything he has to offer and is always surprising you with the most elegant gifts and surprises porque el amor de su vida se lo merece

God, can you imagine him bringing live musica to your dates so he can dance with you,

“Bailamos, mi amor?” -the way he’ll smile at you as he extends his hand out to you is everything

Speaking of,,, dancing dates! :D

At all hours of the day, he’s always down to take you dancing

You two are the shining stars at parties/clubs because wow- the way your bodies just turn into one with your perfect moves -

You’ll have everyone drooling at just how phenomenal you both look together, especially with the way you both look at each other, like it’s only the two of you in the room-

Pacho loves taking you on luxurious vacations, he’s all about that,, nothing beats the feeling of just getting you all to himself on a beautiful landscape, far away from Cali and business,

*Protective Pacho*,, holy shit would he take your security seriously

If someone even looks at you wrong, he’s not letting them breathe for another second longer

I can’t even imagine how protective he gets after Gilberto’s daughters wedding incident 

The world fucking stops as he walks up to your crying form,,

The way he’ll cradle your head into his neck and hug you-

“No llores, mi vida, estamos bien” - literally shaking in anger that someone almost hurt you and took you from him-

ok can you imagine the way you’ll try to stay up for him when he’s away for dirty business, making sure he came home in one piece,,

The preocupacion he has when he sees you’re still awake, “amor, que haces todavía despierta/o?”

Fuck, the way you’ll both hold eachother has me shaking,- you’ll be holding his face, making sure he isn’t hurt

As he has his hands resting on top of yours

“Estoy bien, amor” -let me go sob

But the times you accidentally do fall asleep, he’ll come up to you and softly kiss your forehead as he carefully settles in beside you- I can’t

Pacho buying you a home for the both of you-

Idk, he just wants to express how he never wants to live without you, he wants to come home to you everyday,, 🥺

I definitely see him just spacing off when he watches you, like when you’re getting ready for bed and he’s already waiting for you to come to lay next to him,,,

You feel him staring as you look over your shoulder and smile at him,,, again the softness

“Te vez magnifica/o”

The small smile he has as he pulls you on top of him- i need to stop

NSFW:

Helmer ‘Pacho’ Herrera, a fucking sex icon, here we go

I have so many scenarios, so bear with me,,

He’s not one to ever turn down a blowjob, like, wow, you his innocent flower, choking on his cock, is a sight that will never leave his memory,, 

To be honest, I can see him relaxing out on the balcony or something, with a drink in his hand,, breathing out a content sigh as he looks down at you, gagging on him as he slowly thrusts into your mouth-

Moving your hair out of your face as he smirks at you,,

“Eso, mi amor, asi me gusta que estes” -ok

The eye contact is what’s making me weak, your watery eyes locking with his dilated ones as his thrusts become more rough,,,-

GOD, does this man make sex so fucking passionate

Like, you’ll be desperately trying to take his clothes off, as he just laughs and continues to kiss you, not bothering to take your clothes off yet,,

I just know he’s taking his damn time when he gets you on the bed,slowly taking off your clothes, caressing your whole body, making you lose all your patience as your practically begging him to just fuck you, tears of frustration coming out when he stops your hips from moving,,

“Dime cuanto me necesitas, mi vida, y ya te lo meto” I-

He’s not doing anything until he has you babbling and whimpering about how much you need him-

The way he’ll harshly grip your hip as he brings your leg to wrap around his waist and places his hand around your throat when he pushes into you-

ok so I don’t see Pacho as a “love making” type, nope, I see him going in rough with no time to adjust, the lust is just too overpowering

He has you whining from how fast but so good his rough pace is making you feel-

“No que me necesitabas? No hagas eso, no llores, te estoy cuidando, mi amor”

as he’s reaching in between your bodies to stimulate you even more- oh god

He’ll get lost in the feeling of you moaning his name and leaving marks on his back as he mercilessly pounds into you

Fuck, or the way he’ll pull you by your hair when you bite down on his shoulder,, as he hastily kisses you, drowning out your moans-

Another thing that really gets him going is when he grabs both of your hands and holds them above your head with one on his hands as he pounds you into the bed-

The way you’ll arch into him because you just need to feel more of him,,

Riding Pacho- h o ly shit,,

he loves seeing how you’ll try to urgently get yourself off on top of him,

he’ll let you do all the work as he sits there and caresses your body, smirking at how your bounces become more desperate

the chuckle he lets out when your movements falter and begin to grind your hips on his instead as you  grip his hand like an anchor

“pensé que dijiste que podrías aguantar, sigue adelante, amor, sé que puedes "

As he pulls your body closer and drags his thumb to stimulate your clit,,, he’ll thrust up into you as you wrap your arms around his shoulders to steady yourself -wow

This man has no vergüenza  , he’s fucking you out in the patio or balcony where he just knows at any minute his servants can see you,, someone kick me out 

He’s had you wear only his fancy shirts at times because he lives and breathes for the sight of that,,,

I’m sorry, but he gets rock hard when he sees you walking around in his things-

Ok, so you all know that scene when he called Miguel about his cocaine shipment being ready as he revved up his motorcycle- hot

Can you imagine, instead of that, this mf would call Miguel in the middle of having you screaming his name absurdly loud-

He would have his fingers inside of you as he stares at how your trying to silently thrash on his bed, gripping his wrist, as he just talks normally to Miguel about how his 70 tons are ready,,,

He’ll curl his fingers just  to have you scream his name as he lightly chuckles-

the uncomfortness from Miguel’s end has Pacho smugly saying,

"¿qué ?, vos nunca tuviste a alguien gritando tu nombre por el placer que le das, Miguelito?” -ok

Morning Sex is thinggg

Like, it’s the best way to start the morning with you moaning out his name with the view of the hacienda through the ‘window’

You two were already naked from last night, so why not take advantage of that,,

god, can you imagine the both of you laying on your sides, facing the window, where you can barely see your reflection,,

he’s resting your leg on his inner elbow, slowly thrusting from behind you, kissing your neck,,

“Buenos dias amor, como dormistes? Hm”

His hand is traveling between your legs to help get you off quicker

he just admires how your moaning out his name, letting your head fall back on him,,

- he’ll be gradually picking up the speed of his thrusts and hand as he forces you to look at him, wanting to see how you fall apart- i need help

[bisexualsforprompto]

Puppy Love

Thanks @kceedraws for helping me with this (awhile ago lol) and coming up with Gilfred

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a crisp, clear autumn day, all was calm in nature, but all was chaos in the Wayne Manor.

Alfred was having a guest over, well two guests, and Jason, Dick, and Tim were having lots of fun trying to guess who it was.

“An ex-spy?”

Alfred groaned in annoyance as he set the cookies out on the table. “No, Master Todd, not an ex-spy.”

“An ex-assassin?”

“Bloody hell.” Alfred cursed under his breath, “No!”

Tim snorted causing Dick and Jason to look at him. Jason raised his eyebrow, “Oh yeah? What do you think, replacement?”

“An ex-girlfriend.”

Alfred didn’t respond.

Dick spat out the water he was drinking. “No way! No way! It totally is your ex!”

“If I say yes will you be civilized in front of her? She’s bringing her granddaughter too, she’s Master Damian’s age.” Alfred swatted Dick’s hand away from the cookies.

“Speaking of which, where is the demon?” Jason asked, scanning the room.

“Master Damian is with Master Bruce in the Batcave. Miss Cassandra is down there as well, training.” Alfred stated, “Speaking of which, I should go get them. Gina will be arriving soon.”

The boys snickered quietly to themselves as Alfred entered the Batcave. Each of them were equally astonished that Alfred even had ex-girlfriends, but they all realized that he must’ve been young once.

Cass trudged up the stairs and stood wordlessly next to the couch in the living room. Damian and Bruce came out next, Damian was scowling from having his training interrupted (by what he called “a frivolous waste of time”).

Damian slumped onto the couch, pouting. Dick walked over with a grin and rubbed his little brother’s hair. Damian pulled away with a snarl,

“Grayson if you touch my hair one more-“

Damian’s threat was interrupted by the sound of a doorbell and the abrupt opening of the manor doors by Alfred.

“Alfie!” A slender old woman exclaimed as she took off her motorcycle helmet. From behind her, a small blue-black haired girl shifted shyly and gave a small wave to the family butler.

“Welcome Gina, and I presume...Miss Marinette?”

With a slight nod, Marinette crept back behind her grandmother.

“Do come in ladies, the Waynes are in the living room.” Alfred bowed his arm out and gestured to the couch. Gina flicked his bow tie and laughed.

“Quite a nice home you’re looking after.”

“I suppose it is.”

Alfred took Gina’s helmet and hung it on the coat rack. Following her Nonna like a puppy, Marinette silently sat on the couch.

Dick was barely containing his excitement, Alfred’s ex-girlfriend and her adorable granddaughter who could very well be Alfred’s granddaughter?! He was practically bouncing off the walls. Jason was sitting next to him with an arrogant smirk, studying the eleven-year old in front of them, who had just glanced over at Damian, like he knew something they didn’t.

Tim was silent and had an objective, but calculating look on his face. Cass had a hidden smile on her face and Damian…

Well Damian was scowling.

From the moment that little kid laid eyes on him she started blushing and her blue eyes may as well have been heart eyes. With a huff, Damian shifted away from her, much to Marinette’s dismay.

Although Damian was only eleven himself, he thought Marinette a little child unworthy of his attention. Even before he went to live with his father he knew women and men alike would throw themselves at him in order to have an in with his family (after all, the Al Guhl’s were just as influential as the Waynes).

Damian had no interest in even talking to the girl. He had every intention to ignore her in fact.

That proved difficult though.

With a shit-eating grin, Jason announced, rather obnoxiously, “Why don’t you let the two kids play with each other while we talk?”

Damian was about to interrupt, showing Jason a threatening slicing motion across his own neck.

“That’s a wonderful idea!” Gina exclaimed, clasping her hands together. Before Marinette or Damian could blink, Gina was shoving them to the front yard. “Have fun, my fairy!” She cooed as she shut the door.

Before Damian could get away Marinette ran in front of him and kissed both of his cheeks. Repulsed, Damian jumped away and tried to run, but before he could make his great escape Marinette spoke.

“Bonjour, I’m Marinette. And you?”

“Not interested.” Damian said shoving Marinette away.

Marinette’s face turned to one of a kicked puppy, but nevertheless, she persisted. With an overdramatic pout she huffed to him,

“You could at least tell me your name instead of being grumpy.”

Anger in his eyes, Damian flipped himself around to face her. “Damian.” He said begrudgingly through gritted teeth.

“See, that wasn’t so hard!” Grabbing his wrist she dragged him over to the grassy part of the yard, “Now what should we play?”

“Nothing. I don’t have time to waste with your frivolous play time pursuits.”

Marinette cocked her head, “Well what do you wanna do?”

“I want to go upstairs and study in peace.”

Marinette’s eyes lit up, “Can I come?”

Damian whipped his head around and opened the front door, “No.”

To emphasize his rejection, he slammed the door in her face before she could follow him in.

~~~~~~

The visits with Gina and Marinette that followed all ended eerily similarly. Marinette doting over him with her puppy love, and Damian taking her affection and shoving it away.

But soon Marinette got too busy to come to Gotham with her grandmother (to the relief of Damian) and after a while of not seeing her, he was content to pronounce that annoying chapter of his life, closed.

That is until the Wayne gala.

Damian expected a night of boring business exchanges and businessmen trying to set him up with their daughters, after all Damian was sixteen and had matured enough to look like a proper young man.

He expected to see lots of women, but never in a million years did he expect to see the obnoxious girl from his childhood, Marinette Dupain-Chang.

And yet, there she was, he missed her walk in, but he didn’t miss her talking to his father.

Stomping over to them, Damian glared at his brothers, who were giggling at the youngest Wayne’s reaction to the aspiring designer's arrival.

“What are you doing here?” Damian hissed, skipping the pleasantries.

“Damian…” Bruce’s tone had an air of warning to it.

“Did you invite her, father?!”

“No.” Marinette said, crossing her arms, “Adrien Agreste invited me as his plus-one.”

Damian stood there dumbfounded. He didn’t even know little miss nobody Dupain-Chang knew the Agreste model. He wrinkled his nose, “Why would he invite you?”

“Damian,” Bruce commanded, “Don’t be rude.”

Marinette mirrored Damian’s scowl, “Is it so hard to believe we’re friends? His best friend couldn’t make it, so he invited me instead.”

Damian raised a brow, but before he could open his mouth Adrien Agreste appeared with a grin.

“I see you met Damian, Marinette!”

“Actually we already know each other.” Marinette said coolly.

“Really?” Adrien asked with a warm smile, “What a weird coincidence.”

Hoping the situation was now resolved, Bruce walked over to greet some other guests.

“I’m so glad two of my friends are getting along!”

Marinette smiled at Adrien dumbly with a blush as Damian responded, “We’re not friends.”

Unfazed, Adrien placed his hand on Damian’s shoulder, “Well I hope we can change that then.”

“Not likely.” Damian muttered underneath his breath as he stalked off.

Damian tried not to watch from afar as he brooded in the corner, but he found his eyes wandering anyway.

Adrien and Marinette were giggling, Damian wasn’t quite sure why, but he knew he didn’t like it. He half expected Marinette to follow him when he stormed off, but no, she was too busy doting over Adrien.

Damian crossed his arms with a huff.

“Somebody’s jealous,” Dick said in a teasing tone.

Damian tutted, “What nonsense are you on about now, Grayson?”

Dick gave Damian a knowing smirk, “Just that you haven’t taken your eyes off of Marinette since-“

“If you’re implying I’m jealous of the Agreste kid because of Dupain-Chang, then you’re delusional.”

Dick shrugged and held his hands up in mock surrender, “Sure, whatever you say little D.”

When his pesky brother finally walked away, Damian focused back on Marinette and Adrien. The blonde boy was extending his hand out to Marinette, causing her to blush.

Damian rolled his eyes, they were so effortlessly agitating, so they were perfect for each other.

Never mind that that particular thought made him more annoyed than before.

Taking her onto the ballroom dance floor, Adrien spun Marinette around. Her face was completely red, but she had the stupidest cute grin on her face.

Damian stomped out of the ballroom, not wanting to watch more. He told himself that he just wanted to go take a break from all the obnoxious business people in the room.

Damian walked aimlessly to the kitchen, where Alfred was currently preparing more food for the guests. Alfred’s eyes furrowed as he looked at Damian.

“What’s wrong Master Damian?” He asked with genuine concern.

“Nothing that concerns you, Pennyworth.” Damian responded with a biting tone.

After seeing Alfred’s unamused expression, Damian sighed, “I didn’t think Dupain-Chang was going to be here tonight.”

Alfred hid his smile, “Ah, and that’s a bad thing? Is she giving you a lot of attention again?”

“No,” Damian scowled, “I don’t understand it. Something must have happened to create a change in her behavior, but I cannot figure it out. She showed up with the Agreste kid, so perhaps her standards have lowered.”

Alfred shook his head disapprovingly, “Master Damian, I thought you didn’t like the affection you got from her, shouldn’t this be a good thing?” Alfred bit his lip, wondering if it would be a good idea to continue, “Unless, of course, you have feelings for the young lady?”

“I most certainly do not!” Damian shot back, “I...just got used to the attention I suppose. Now she’s cold with me.”

“Like you were with her all those years ago?”

“No!” Damian let out a resigned huff at Alfred’s BS-detecting expression, “...yes.”

“Do you think maybe she realized after all those years when you treated her poorly, that she started having a crush on those who were less...blunt?”

“I suppose it’s a possibility.” Damian muttered.

Alfred hummed, “Master Damian, I can tell you first hand that each of the women in Miss Marinette’s family are remarkable. I missed my chance, but you don’t have to. Speak to her, or you’ll regret it, I know I did…”

In silent contemplation about Gina, Alfred went back to cooking.

Damian looked at his shoes for a minute, seemingly trying to figure out if he should take his butler’s advice. After a beat of hesitation, Damian went back into the party. He walked into the ballroom like a man on a mission, and of course, he did have one.

To get her back.

Tags:

@ira-sairain

@dawnwave16

@maribat-is-lifeblood

@sleepy-red-bug

@buticaaba

@thestressmademedoit

@thanks-captain-obvious

[bigbangclappin]

Welcome Home

Genre: Smut, angst (later) Biker!au Motorcycle club! au

Pairing: JohnnyXReader:

Word count: 1.1K

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, cursing, violent themes. Johnny’s a criminal.

Summary: your man’s out of prison and you couldn’t be happier. You have this nagging feeling though that he’s going to do something to get thrown back behind bars.

Part Two

“Just like that baby,” he groaned into your ear, his hands tight on your hips. “Such a good girl for me aren’t you?”

Your man knew how to work that praise kink of yours. Even better he knew what lit your soul on fire, his lips at your neck sucking your sensitive skin until it was a beautiful black and blue.

“Yes daddy,” you moaned out as you lifted yourself off of his cock until all that remained was the head, he guided you back onto him slowly just to tease. 

The urge to just bounce on his dick was becoming unbearable and he knew it. He was testing your patience, your obedience. He had to have felt the ecstasy you felt, the primal urge to just fuck you into the mattress. 

“J-Johnny,” you whimpered at the sensation of being so full, “Please, please, please.” 

“Please what baby?”

“Please fuck me,” you begged breathlessly, “I need you please.”

He hummed in your ear, his lips leaving a trail of wet kisses from your neck to your chest. His lips sucking on a pert nipple making you arch your back.

“You’re so pretty when you beg for my cock,” he mumbled against your lips. He slapped your thigh, “Ride me babygirl.”

You kissed him in thanks, your tongue searching for his as you braced yourself against his shoulders. You lifted up and slammed back down on him. The groan he omitted sent tingles right to your core, it spurred you on to continue that fast pace you wanted.

It had been way too long since you had been able to touch him the way you wanted without some perverted asshole interrupting. Conjugal visits just didn’t offer the intimacy you craved from your fiancé. Especially not when douchebag C.O’s are trying to catch a glimpse of you fucking.

“Thought about your tight pussy almost every night,” he panted out his head lolling back against the expensive headboard, “The fucked out face you make when you’re about to cum on my cock.”

His dirty talk made you wetter, “Missed your dick daddy.”

He grabbed the back of your neck roughly, his mouth mashing into yours. You bit his lip playfully “Fuck J, I’m so close.”

“Right behind you baby.”

You gasped for breath when that white hot knot coiled in your stomach, so close to coming undone. With just the perfect angle of your man’s hips he hit that perfect little bundle of nerves deep inside you and your were tumbling over the edge.

“Fuck I’m cumming,” you cried out in to Johnny’s shoulder nearly biting in to the tattoo of the dragon strategically placed there.

Your man took charge gripping your hips so tightly that you were sure there would be bruises in the shape of his fingertips. He pounded up into you in search of his own high, until you felt hot ropes of his cum filling you up and his heavy breathing against your neck.

“Fuck it’s good to be home,” he mumbled against your naked skin pressing a gentle kiss there after.

“I missed you so much,” you admitted while lying against his chest trying to catch your breath. “I don’t know what I’ll do if you ever get locked up again.”

He chuckled at you placing a kiss on the top of your head, “Don’t worry about that baby, I’m here now.”

You smiled happily as you drifted off with the comfort of his touch on your back and his heart beating beneath your ear. 

***

“I fucking told you I need to lay low Mark,” you heard your fiancé bark into the phone, “I can’t be out there riding with my cut. The feds have been watching my every move. They have a fucking Suburban outside the damn house already. I need you and Taeyong to run the shipment for me.”

You turned over on your side. Johnny’s silhouette was  illuminated by the moon coming through the large bay window. He had his legs crossed and In one hand he held his burner phone and the other held his cigarette. You hated the smell of tobacco but you adored the way your man made smoking look sexy. 

You could only imagine what kind of bullshit he was already getting into just hours after being released from federal prison. 

“When you two stop by, leave your cuts at home. My girl’s throwing us a welcome home party and we need to be as inconspicuous as possible.  Nah we aren’t bringing shit to my front door, if we have to wait then we wait.”

He took another drag off his cigarette , “Send word out to all the boys that they’re on their best behavior ‘til I give the word. Thanks, see you tomorrow.”

Johnny ended the call and you watched as he tossed the cheap device on to the bedside table. He took another drag until the smoke was nearly finished until he stubbed it out in the ashtray.

“J?” you called to him with fake sleep in your voice, “Come back to bed I want to cuddle.”

His chuckle filled the otherwise quiet room as you felt the bed dip on his side, he pulled you into his tattooed arms and chest with a content sigh, “I love you so much baby.”

“I love you too.” 

Whatever scheme he had going on he clearly didn’t think you should know about it. Most of the time you were alright with that, the less you knew about the club the better. However you had just gotten the love of your life back after two years of being locked up. Two years of having your affection separated by bulletproof glass, and degrading meetings with correctional officers your man had to bribe so that you could actually be intimate without an audience. 

If he screwed up his freedom this time you’d never get him back. His file was large enough to make him a lifer if he got caught again. Like hell you’d let that happen.

“You promised me this wouldn’t happen again,” you whispered softly against his chest tracing the NCT tattoo he had on his right pectoral. 

“Everything’s fine (Y/N),” he kissed your forehead, “Don’t worry about it.

“I’ll kill you if you get locked up again I swear.”

You felt his chest rumble with laughter, “I don’t doubt it. Rest babygirl, everything is alright.”

You snorted but wrapped your body around his again. If you even caught a whiff of him fucking up again you were going to beat his ass so hard he’d be flying around the moon.