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ace-writes-stuff · 2 years ago

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Those Good Days Passed | Chapter 2

| Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader |

A/N: Hello again, friends! As you can see, I’ve made a new writing blog! Long story short, I didn’t realize that most of Tumblr’s tools can only be utilized on one’s main blog, so I decided to separate my writing completely and make this! Hopefully, this will help out with some house cleaning stuff in the future! Thanks for your support and understanding - yall literally made me blush when you started asking for a taglist on the first chapter! That is all :)

Summary: First days can be hard, especially when you work with Eddie Munson and your little cousin comes in with some strange requests.

Contents & Warnings: Fem!Reader, Reader is over 18, Multichapter Fic, Reader rides a motorcycle, MINORS DNI

Previous Chapter: Cabin in the Woods

Word Count: 4.3K

Chapter Two - First Days & Final Countdowns

The sun was barely making its way through the trees when the birds started chirping outside your window. The cabin was great. It was cool in the daytime with the aid of a bunch of box-style air conditioning units that only made weird sounds half the time they were on, and it was warm at night either because you had a fire going or the heat from the day hadn’t entirely burnt off yet. Truly, you couldn’t have asked for a better place to stay the summer.

It also helped that the cabin was free.

Nevertheless, you genuinely enjoyed staying there, especially when you were a kid and the leaking pipe in the bathroom wasn’t your responsibility to fix while your uncle was away. Seriously, why did he leave you in charge, knowing he had a leaky pipe?

As the bird's song grew to the point where you couldn’t ignore it any longer, you sat up in bed with a groan. All that driving and running around yesterday had really done a number on you. Not to mention how Dustin and his older sailor friend had peer pressured you into eating way too much shitty fast food from the cafeteria. It was delicious at the time, but now you just felt sluggish. Which was a problem because during all the commotion of getting a job, meeting Dustin’s new friends, then having to cart him all the way back home after he dragged you out to the highest point in Hawkins to set up his ‘miracle of science’ that would allow him to talk to his ‘totally real and not made up’ girlfriend, you had completely forgotten to set the alarm to get up for work.

9:07

That damn alarm was taunting you with its stupid bright red letters as you scrambled to throw on some clothes, narrowly avoiding falling onto the floor as your legs got caught in your jeans. Luckily, you had just enough sense last night to throw your bike keys onto the hook before drifting off to dreamland, so there was no need for a search and rescue mission between couch cushions. It saved you a bit of time not having to look for them, but that didn’t mean you weren’t barreling down the quaint little Hawkin’s roads trying to make it to work on time.

To your surprise, when you had finally made it to Tape World’s doors sporting your sleek new blue employee vest, the place was still locked up. With eyebrows raised, you took a second to check your watch.

9:30

You weren’t early, but you weren’t late either, so where was Eddie? You peaked inside, but no dice. Was he late?

After another minute or two, you built up the courage to knock on the closed glass doors. Maybe he was just in the back organizing a few things and forgot you were coming?

“Eddie?” You tried calling out, thinking that maybe he had heard the knocking and assumed it was just an over-eager customer trying to beg their way into an early store entry.

“Yes?” His voice answered, only it wasn't where you expected it to be. Nope! Instead of being in the store, he was standing right behind you. You hadn’t even heard him until he was right up on you.

“Holy shit-” You gasped before letting out a laugh as he threw up his hands like you had somehow also surprised him.

“Woah! Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I probably should have announced myself, huh?” He was quick to apologize. “I got here early, so I thought I would just go ahead and grab us those breakfast sandwiches I talked about yesterday.”

It was at that point you finally noticed the two decently sized tinfoil-wrapped squares he was holding in his left hand. How sweet. He had grabbed you breakfast for your first day. You almost wished he had taken you with him though so you could have had a chance to meet some more people your age. It was a little embarrassing that you had to rely on your little cousin and his surprising number of older friends to keep you company through the summer. Nevertheless, you took the breakfast sandwich that was offered to you with a quick but genuine thank you.

Shortly after that, the doors were unlocked, and the two of you were using that same glass display case he had hopped over yesterday as a makeshift breakfast table. The sandwich was…nice, in a greasy comfort food sort of way. Definitely not a well-balanced breakfast, but it was still a decent way to start the morning, especially because you hadn’t had time to grab anything to eat in your rush out the door. It also helped that the sandwich was free. Couldn’t complain about free food.

The register was next on the agenda after the quick meal, and damn, was that stupid thing way more complicated than it needed to be. You had to press like fifteen buttons just for one sale to go through, and that was if they decided to pay in cash. Checks and credit were an entirely different beast, and by the end of Eddie’s miniature crash course, you were beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed.

“Now you’re looking at me like I’ve got three heads,” Eddie remarked with a lopsided grin, referencing the conversation you two had had only a day prior.

You dropped your head forward between your shoulders in defeat, laughing at yourself for a moment. Working the cash register truly couldn’t be that hard. It just had a learning curve, right? Maybe after a few sales, you’d be an expert. You were usually pretty good at picking up things like this, but for some reason, it just wasn’t clicking at the moment.

“Oh, trust me, by the end of the day, I’m going to make this register my bitch.” Perhaps it was false confidence, but you figured you’d at least be somewhat proficient with it by closing time, and if you weren't, nobody could say that you just laid down and took it.

“Those are some bold words coming from someone who just tried to charge me six hundred dollars for a cassette.” Eddie snarked, ripping the mock receipt from the top of the register and holding it out for you to read.

Sure enough…

$600

“Oh, come on! I just forgot to add a decimal!” You groaned, snatching the receipt and chucking it into the garbage. “Give me another one! I swear I got it this time.” The determination to get this right was practically flowing through your veins at this point, but Eddie was already making his way back towards the front of the store.

“As much as I would love to watch you struggle some more, we’ve gotta open in less than a minute.” The keys jangled around loudly in his hand as he swung them around a few times before inserting them into the lock. “Better luck next time, Henderson!” He announced loudly as he pulled the door open with a dramatic flair.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him. The guy was like a walking cartoon character. All long and lanky limbs, flailing about like a medieval fool. It was ridiculous. What was even more ridiculous though was that it was actually starting to grow on you.

“Mark my words, Munson!” You tried to sound serious as he approached the counter again, but you broke as he leaned forward into your space.

“Go on,” He prompted, big brown eyes staring right back down into yours as a smirk pulled at his lips.

You hesitated for a moment. You knew what you wanted to say, but it was like the words had gotten lost on their way out. Your mouth fell open, but just as you were about to speak, Eddie leaned forward again.

“Oh? What will she say?! I'm quivering in anticipation!” And he did. Quiver that it is. Hell, he practically shook his whole body. He even brought his arms up to his chest before covering his cheeky grin with both ring-clad hands.

“Go to hell,” You scoffed jokingly, rolling your eyes again before pushing the big dufus away like you would somehow remember to function if you got your personal space back.

“Oh, I’ve been, sweetheart.” Eddie claimed, then leaned over the glass counter like he was about to whisper something of the utmost importance, “and they named me king!”

It was dumb. He was dumb, but he still made you laugh. Harder than you had laughed in months, actually. There was just something so endearing about the way he held himself and galavanted around like he didn’t have a care in the world. Maybe he didn’t, but you seriously doubted that. Nevertheless, the guy was funny, and you really had to hand it to him.

Just as you were about to say something extremely well thought out and definitely not the first thing that came to mind, the door chime dinged. It was…Dustin? What was he doing at the mall so early? Especially after the night you two had had.

“Do you have anything educationally Russian in here?” He asked, and wow, that was a sentence you never thought you’d hear from your little cousin, but at this point, you really shouldn't have been shaken by anything he said anymore. The kid was weird, but the good kind.

“I’m sorry?” Eddie answered, squinting his eyes and jutting his head forward in utter confusion, and to be honest, you had half a mind to do the same.

“Why do you need something educationally Russian?” You paused for a moment to think back. It wasn’t a new band. It definitely didn't have anything to do with D&D. Maybe he was researching that little Russian girl that had been roaming around Hawkins around the same time as that Byers kid went missing? But why now?

“No time for questions. I’ve already wasted enough time waiting till morning. I really need this now, so do you have it or not?” The impatience was practically dripping from Dustin’s voice.

Till morning?

“Dustin, is this why you were acting so weird last night?” You accused, folding your arms across your chest and fixing him with a look. Dustin’s demeanor immediately changed. He stood up straighter, and his eyes flicked from Eddie, back to you, then around the store, before finally settling on you again.

“Weird?” He scoffed, “I wasn’t acting weird. Why do you think I was acting weird?” Dustin was definitely acting weird. He had practically been silent the whole way home. At first, you thought that maybe it was because his totally real girlfriend hadn’t answered his many, many calls, but now with him asking about Russian tapes, you just knew that something was up.

“C’mon, kid. You know you can talk to me.” He used to come to you for everything, but the time apart had done a number on your relationship. Still, the two of you were close, and no amount of time could ever change that.

Dustin’s face contorted slightly as he thought about it. It took him a moment to come to a final decision, but when he did, his eyes flicked over to Eddie.

“It’s okay. He’s cool, aren’t you, Munson?” You reassured, throwing a hand up to pat Eddie on the shoulder.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Totally cool. The coolest.” Eddie crossed his arms in front of his chest, nodding in agreement but still looking completely lost at what was happening. You couldn’t blame him though; even you felt like you were falling behind a bit.

Despite all that, Dustin still beckoned the two of you closer, looking cautiously around the store like he had done before. You and Eddie acquiesced, leaning down into his space to hear him out. It was then, in a quiet voice, he said,

“I intercepted a secret Russian communication.”

Well, that was the second thing you never thought you’d hear from your little cousin, but it looked like today was just chock full of surprises.

“You intercepted a secret Russian communication?” Eddie repeated slowly, his eyes wide, as he took a moment to glance over at you, but Dustin was already snapping at him.

“Don’t say it so loud! You’re going to attract attention to us! We don’t know who could be listening!” The kid practically shouted in a hushed voice, dragging you two closer into a huddle while throwing nervous glances over his shoulder to ensure Eddie hadn't outed you all.

“Dustin- Relax. There’s no one in the store.” You tried to soothe, but he still seemed skittish.

“Do you have the tapes or not?” He asked quietly after a breath, keeping his eyes closed this time.

Unfortunately, you had only been working at Tape World for a little over two hours at that point, so you had absolutely no clue if you had what Dustin was asking for. Eddie, on the other hand, had the place practically memorized by now, and with only a few short minutes of him sweeping through various tape-filled aisles with his tongue poking out slightly in an effort to stay focused, he came back with a handful of ‘Russian for Dummies’ tapes.

Almost immediately, Dustin was shoving them into his bag and trying to head toward the door. You, of course, went to stop him, but Eddie beat you to the punch.

“Woah, woah, woah, little gremlin. You gotta pay for those.” There was no malice in his voice, but he was beginning to sound a bit exasperated by your cousin's eccentric behavior, and as much as you loved him, you really couldn’t blame Eddie for being a bit vexed.

Without a word, Dustin shot you a pleading look. You had the money to cover him, but you were also really hoping to use said money for something other than a beginner's guide to Russian.

“How do you even plan on translating this secret message? It's not like you can just pick up a language from listening to a few guides.” You prodded, hoping it might knock some sense into him, but this was Dustin, so it didn’t.

“I can’t, but Robin can,” Dustin explained. “She’s got magic ears from band. She's already got a few words translated from just the recording and a dictionary. With this,” he held up his bag with the tapes, “she’ll be unstoppable.”

“Hold on. Rewind. You got Buckley translating this?” Eddie questioned, which seemed to surprise Dustin.

“You know Robin?”

“Yeah, we’re both in band. Which means,” Eddie took a finger and tapped the side of his head. “I’ve got magic ears too. I can help.”

As enthralling as this all was, it was only a matter of time before someone else came waltzing through the doors and ruined the secrecy of the conversation. You relayed that to the group, but Eddie and Dustin seemed more interested in bickering back and forth on whether the metal head was worthy enough to help in his quest to become a Hawkins- no, an American Hero. However, almost on cue, a small group of young girls entered the store, followed closely by a larger group of adults, possibly their parents, so you all were forced to decide on a game plan.

“Fine,” Eddie conceded, “You take the tapes to the sound wizard, and during our lunch break, we will meet you at…”

“Scoops Ahoy.” Dustin finished, and Eddie suddenly looked distraught.

“Scoops? As in the Scoops Ahoy where Scarrington works?” Munson practically groaned.

“Look- do you want to help or not?” Dustin remarked shortly. Eddie huffed at the display before giving a curt nod.

“Fine. Fine. We’ll reconvene at Scoops and decipher this stupid message. Clear?”

And Dustin was practically out the door as he called back, “Clear!”

What the fuck had just happened?

Secret Russian communications? Magic ears? Either you had gotten boring while you were away, or Hawkin’s had become a lot more exciting.

That didn’t exactly matter at the moment though, because despite the promise of a grand adventure come lunchtime, you still had to work for at least the next couple of hours. Thankfully though, as soon as Dustin left, things really seemed to pick up. Between the group of young girls and their parents, the pack of jocks, and the small group of young teenage boys you could have sworn you had seen before, there was barely any time to think about the insane conversation you had just had.

That being said, the closer it got to your lunch break, the more anxious you felt. It wasn’t a pit in your stomach type of anxiety though. No, it was more of a something exciting is about to happen kind, which was only exacerbated every time there was a lull in the customer load, and Eddie would drift back over to you and start speaking to you in a horrible Russian accent.

“Is zis not ze tape you are looking for, Keptin?” Seriously, it was like he was mimicking Checkov from Star Trek. Wait. That was exactly what he was doing!

“Are you saying I look like William Shatner?” You questioned with a laugh, plucking the cassette he was holding out to you. “Because personally, I like to think that I give off more Bones vibes. I even took a first aid course last semester.”

“She knows Star Trek too? Be still my beating heart!” Eddie commanded jokingly before throwing his head back and clutching his chest like he might faint.

“Oh, Ha Ha.” You scoffed before pushing him out of the way. “You’re so funny, Eddie. You should audition for Saturday Night Live! The crowd would just love you.” The sarcasm was practically dripping from your voice as you popped the cassette Eddie had handed you into the player.

As the rocking synths of Separate Ways by Journey filled the little store and the patrons slowly filtered out, you helped Munson prepare to momentarily close up shop. It was only some minor organizing and making sure that the register was locked and the amounts were correct, but by the time you two were finished, you were practically vibrating.

It had been so long since you had a proper adventure. Sure, there was the very real possibility that Dustin was completely overreacting and the Secret Russian Communication was just somebody messing with him last night, but for now, you wanted to keep your hopes up.

Eddie seemed less than convinced but just as enthusiastic as he flicked off the lights and held the door open for you.

“What a gentleman,” You teased, and instead of rolling his eyes or tensing up, he doubled down on the act of chivalry, bowing his head, and extending a hand out to beacon you forward.

“Of course, m’lady. Only the best for the co-ruler of Tape World.” He stated, dropping his voice an octave like he was trying to imitate a knight or something else heroic.

“Oh? I’ve already been promoted to co-ruler?” You questioned with a quiet laugh as Eddie locked the door to your little kingdom.

“Oh, yeah. Just wait until you can work the cash register, then you’ll really have some power. I might even let you choose the music one day, princess.” How was he such a nerd yet such a charmer all at the same time?

“Yeah, yeah, your highness,” You rolled your eyes, trying to look annoyed instead of flattered, “Less chatting, more walking! We got a quest to complete.”

And with that, the two of you set out for Scoops Ahoy. It was a long and perilous two-minute walk, but somehow you both made it relatively unharmed. There had been a close call with a spontaneously combusting milkshake, but you still managed to make it to Scoops alive and clean.

Surprisingly though, when you arrived, there was no one at the counter. There were customers eating, so they had to be somewhere close by. Perhaps in the back?

DING DING DING DING

The sharp sound made you jump. You looked around to find the source, and it was Eddie, slapping the service bell around like it had insulted him.

“Jesus, Eddie! What is wrong with you?!” You grabbed his wrist to stop him from ringing the bell again, but it was too late. The little wooden window behind the counter swung open with more velocity than you thought was possible, and standing there, looking at you, was Steve Harrington.

“What?!” The sailor snapped before realizing who you were. “Oh. It’s you! We’ve been waiting for you all-“ but Dustin pushed his way into view, effectively cutting Harrington off.

“Hurry up and get in here!” Your cousin commanded before slamming the window shut again with a loud Clack!

For a second, you and Eddie just stood there looking at each other. What the hell were you two getting yourselves into? Still, you eventually made your way past the counter, and before you could even knock, Dustin flung the door open and pulled you both inside.

“Woah, cool it, Gollum!” Eddie hissed, brushing himself off after the door was slammed closed again.

The room was small. Well, it was the same size as Tape World’s backroom, but with what could only be described as a translation station, it seemed a lot smaller.

There were Russian characters on a whiteboard, and a girl was sitting at a table, sprawled over a piece of paper with about a sentence worth of translations on it. That wasn’t the only one though. There had to be at least a dozen sheets with various Russian words scribbled all over them next to her. She must be the one with the magic ears.

“Alright! Just so everyone is up to speed. Eddie, this is Steve. Steve, this is Eddie. Robin and Eddie already know each other, but Robin doesn’t know my cousin, so uh… this is her,” Dustin introduced weakly before picking up the recorder on the table.

“This is the Russian communication I intercepted with Cerebro last night. So far, we’ve got ‘the week is long, the silver cat feeds.’ According to Robin, we’ve got about half of the message, but there’s some tricky words at the end we’re still trying to figure out.”

“The message also makes zero sense, so we think it’s coded.” Robin threw in at the end before giving you a tight-lipped smile and a small wave. “The tapes have helped a bit, but most of its conversational, and these Russian dudes sound like they’re just saying random stuff.”

As Dustin played the tape, you tried your best to listen for any familiar words, but alas, you didn’t know a lick of Russian. Eddie, however, was doing that thing with his tongue again, so he must have been onto something.

After a few minutes of replaying the message over and over again, Eddie snatched up the Russian dictionary and furiously flipped through the pages. “I think he’s saying colors in the middle. Play it again.”

Finally, he settled on a page and showed Robin as the message was repeated once more. Sure enough, it was a match. As Buckley scribbled the corresponding words up on the board, he went to play the message again.

This time, it was Robin who caught on first. For a while, it was just the two of them bouncing dialogue off of each other, but somehow, at the very end, you managed to guess a word or two.

By the end of lunch, the message was mostly deciphered, but it still made no sense.

“The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west.”

“Maybe it's some sort of Russian lullaby? I swear that music in the background sounds familiar.” Steve tried but was almost immediately shut down again.

“Yeah, Harrington. I’m sure the Russians are planning to sing our government to sleep so they can stage an overnight Coup d’état.” Eddie remarked, rolling his eyes as he started for the door. “C’mon, Henderson. We’re already late.”

“Sorry, guys! Maybe we’ll think of something tomorrow? How hard could a top-secret encoded message be to decipher?” You were trying to stay positive, but the thought of this all being for nothing was really starting to get to you.

With one last wave to the Scoops Troop, you and Eddie were out the door and shuffling your way back towards Tape World.

“How long were we in there? We definitely blew past our lunch break,” Eddie snorted, making you glance up towards the giant clock that hung in the food court.

As you marked the time, you couldn’t help but notice the color of the clock's hands. “Huh, funny. It’s the same colors from the message. Blue and Yellow.”

“Spooky! Maybe the evil Russians are working to take over Starcourt mall! Those bastards!” Eddie teased, shaking his fist in the air like he was actually upset.

“Oh, shut up, Munson. I just thought it was a funny coincidence.” It was bizarre, but you could just be seeing patterns where there were none at all. Nevertheless, you decided to leave the mystery-solving until tomorrow and focus on figuring out that damn register for the time being. Still…

“When blue meets yellow in the west.”

#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #ace writes #fix it fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson st4 #Those Good Days Passed #minors dni #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fix it fic #multichapter

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acourtofsnakes · 4 years ago

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A Helping Hand - Bucky Barnes x Reader (f)

(Gif: @sebastianruinedme )

Summary: After a stressful week, you try to wind down with some personal time but nothing quite hits that spot. And a certain Super Soldier may just be more than willing to help you.

Warnings: 18+ Smut - Masturbation/toys, Oral (f receiving), fingering, neck play, arm/hand kink, dirty talk, a faint Dom theme if you squint, swearing – honestly, Bucky should just be a kink in himself.

Word count: 5k+ words full of hot playtime.

A/N: This is just filth, to be honest. I was feeling a certain way after watching episode 3 of TFATWS and seeing that scene with Bucky cleaning his hand and… ideas happened, and this was born. There’s not really a plot… simply enjoy.

Smut under the cut!!

Permanent Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal

Part 2

There was something to be said about the advancement of toys in recent years.

There were hundreds of them. All different types. For all different things.

Rabbits, waterproof vibrators, pulsating and pounding ones, ones that felt like oral, handsfree vibrators, remote control vibrators – the list went on.

You had a lot. Tucked in a drawer of your dresser in a pretty box that just made you go all tingly in the knees every time you saw it.

You were proud of your collection.

And boy, did you love them.

They never let you down, ever.

But unfortunately, tonight was just not one of those nights.

It has been a tough week.

Not only had you taken a beating in training yesterday, but you were also late for an appointment across the city, which resulted in being yelled at by Fury.

You really regretted decided to help him when he needed it.

There wasn’t a lot going on lately, so you offered to help Fury when he needed it.

Usually, you were on his food side.

Yesterday, not so much.

Everything seemed out to get you, and after the shit show of the week, you just wanted to treat yourself. So, you’d holed yourself up in your room on your floor of the compound, had a long, luxurious soak in the bath, and then decided to work out your anxiety and tension with one of your many, many friends.

And for the first time in a while, they just weren’t hitting that spot.

Literally.

You groaned, throwing the third toy - this one a rabbit that was one of your most trusty companions - on the side of your bed.

For the last forty minutes, you’d been dancing between three different toys and your fingers.

You’d tried being on your belly, your side, and your back. You’d even tried a pillow.

But nothing was the right pressure on your clit, no toy or finger felt deep enough inside, and you couldn’t hit that spot inside without getting a wicked cramp in your wrist that forced you to stop.

You sat up, every nerve in your body wound to a knife edge, leaving you frustrated and tempted to throttle someone.

Or get someone to throttle you.

Preferably whilst pinning you to a wall... or a desk.

Or anywhere really.

You just needed something, anything to get out this frustration and give you the release you’d been desperately chasing all night.

It wasn’t even a case of hovering on the edge - you couldn’t even get there. The fire and heat just stayed a kindling ember in your belly, and never reaching that explosive fire.

After getting up and downing a measure of whiskey whilst watching the rain, you decided to try a last-ditch attempt with a different toy.

This one was a curved vibrator, with a thicker rounder head for supposedly perfect pressure on your g-spot.

Simple, straight forward.

Surely, if none of the others had done it, this one finally would.

After settling back on your bed, you took a little more care this time, even going as far to light a few candles to add an ambiance to the room rather than have it pitch black with the sounds of the rain.

You worked yourself up this time, building it slowly, teasing yourself with brushes of your fingertips over your throat and breasts, setting your skin ablaze.

You pushed yourself to the edge a little, and then worked over with your vibrator.

Until ten minutes later, when you literally launched the vibrator across the room and it hit the wall with a resounding thud, that echoed your hiss of frustration. “Fucking hell.”

A shit week, a shit day, and you couldn’t even fuck yourself well enough to be able to wind down and get some sleep.

There was a sudden knock and then Bucky’s voice echoed through your bedroom door. “Darlin’?” There was a slight hint of his Brooklyn accent peeping through at the end, stirring something within you.

You startled, sitting bolt upright and your head snapped to the door, “Bucky?” You had the good sense to lock the door, but still. He was right there.

His shadow moved beneath the door, and you realised he was leaning against it, “Is everything alright? I heard banging.”

Well, no not really. I’ve been trying to get myself off for the last hour and nothing appears to be working and I’m sitting here naked whilst you’re the other side of my door calling me Darling in that ridiculously hot accent that shouldn’t even be that hot. But hey, apart from that, everything’s great.

You slid off the bed, padding across the room after dropping your toys back in their drawer, glaring at it as you passed. You slipped a robe on before making your way across the fluffy rug to the door, “Yeah, I’m okay...” You unlocked the door, tugging it open.

Bucky was leaning against the doorframe, all broad shoulders, long lines and soft smile.

His searing blue eyes were instantly locked onto you, a smirk playing on those gorgeous lips.

He cocked his head, standing there with his arms crossed, and you noticed that for once, he wasn’t wearing any gloves. Just a simple long-sleeved T-shirt, jeans that hung sinfully close to his hips and... no boots. Just socks.

Like he’d taken his shoes off before waking into your apartment.

Ever the gentleman.

His arm was bare, the soft light of the hall bouncing off of the black vibranium and sparking the gold. You’d always loved his arm. The sheer power of it, the way you’d seen it shatter a man’s ribs instantly and tear through a brick wall like it was made of glass. The same hand that tickled behind the ears of a stray kitten in Prospect Park and test the ripeness of plums at the market.

You wanted that hand around your throat.

Eyes the colour of the Arctic sea roamed over your body, from your slightly mussed up hair to the flush along your neck that disappeared in the dip of your dressing gown. “Mm... are you sure about that?” He tilted his coyly, a smirk playing on his lips and you had a feeling this expression had been one of the trademarks since the 40’s.

You narrowed your eyes at him, more than aware that he was seeing far more than you wanted him to, “I’m fine.” You turned from the door, leaving it open for him to come in, “How comes you’re up on my floor, anyway?” You peered over your shoulder at him as you padded across the room to the drinks cart.

Yes, there was a bar on your floor, but why couldn’t you have a cart in your room? Tony hadn’t even needed to ask when designing it.

Bucky walked in, his footfalls silent like a cat, that training never quite leaving him, “I couldn’t sleep. No nightmares, just restless.” He added the last part quickly, in response to the concern that tightened your expression.

It was nothing unusual, Bucky coming up here to your room.

You often found each other after nightmares or rough days, seeking comfort and distraction from the darkness that lingered.

Some days and nights, you went out, needing an outside diversion from the thoughts.

Other times, you stayed in, watching films, talking, training or just... sitting quietly, knowing that the other persons presence was enough protection and reassurance. Words weren’t needed… just company.

You handed him a drink, plopping down on the end of your bed and you watched him sink into the couch opposite, “Anything you wanna talk about?”

Since everything with the War, Bucky was working on fitting back into a routine, into ‘normal’ life - or what could be considered normal for people like yourselves.

He was undergoing his mandatory therapy sessions, and they seemed to be helping him.

He was back in contact with Sam, and the pair even worked a few jobs together now and then, even if they did bicker like an old married couple - it provided great entertainment when you tagged along.

He leant back on the couch, settling his left arm across the back. He always looked at home on your floor, relaxed, like his mind could shut off a little. “Nah, I’m okay... Thank you though.” He shot you an easy smile again, one that he probably hadn’t used in.... decades. “What about you? Why are you up so late?”

Mimicking his shrug, you kept your expression neutral, making sure your eyes didn’t drift to that certain drawer, “Rough week. I was reading to try and drift off.”

“Mmmhm...” Bucky’s hummed response told you instantly that he did not believe you one bit. “What were you reading? Cosmopolitan’s best guide to toys?” That shit eating grin graced his face and he motioned gracefully with his left hand... to the corner of the room.

The vibrator you’d launched was sitting on the floor, nestled in the rug, the soft mint green silicone practically a beacon.

Okay.

Okay…. So. There were two ways you could respond to this.

Either play it off, deny it and change the subject.

Or…

Turning back to him, you shrugged again, “Oh, I’ve read that back to front. And made a few additions myself.” You cocked your head, a faint flutter in your belly as you awaited his response.

The barest flicker of surprise danced across his beautiful, rugged features before dissolving into something confident and smouldering. “Well, it looks to me like their guide isn’t true to review tonight. Something tells me you’re having a little bit of trouble.” His voice had begun to lower into a deeper, the natural roughness of his voice coming out.

It stoked that fire within you, warming your blood and curling low in your belly.

“And if I was? What would you suggest to help?” It was almost impossible to remain sitting still as the atmosphere folded and changed. There was one obvious route to your back and forth… and you wanted it.

Wanted… him.

And if you were honest, you had for a long time now. There was just something about him that you’d always been drawn to, a simmering tension that settled whenever you were together.

Bucky rose from the sofa in a fluid movement, walking toward you slowly, casually, but with the grace and prowl of a wolf eyeing up its next meal – you.

And fuck, you wanted him to devour you.

He slid his hands into his pockets, feet silent on your wooden floor, “Well… I would say that as wonderful as your toys may be… they’re just that. Toys. They can’t… feel what you like.” His eyes burned through you with each of his steps. “They don’t hear the noises you make when they hit the right spot. They don’t get to see the way your body reacts, the way your teeth sink into your bottom lip because it feels overwhelmingly good.”

He was close enough for you to smell his cologne, and that only added to the growing wetness between your thighs as his filthy, beautiful words.

Bucky stopped in front of you, removing his left hand and touching his fingers to your chin to tilt it up to face him, “They can’t know the little things… the deeper angle, that extra finger or sweep of the tongue… they can’t make you so wet that it runs down your thighs and they can’t make you arch off the bed as you shatter into starlight…” He sighed softly, shaking his head in mock disappointment, “I’m afraid they just… can’t make you come the way a real person could.” He applied a little pressure to the underside of your chin, and you rose to your – unsteady - feet instantly, putty in his hands.

Holy fuck, Bucky Barnes had a mouth on him.

Your teeth had indeed sunk into your lower lip, and your breathing had grown shallow. It was an effort to keep your thighs firmly locked together… Because you were just as wet as he had said.

The dark flame in his eyes told you that he knew the reaction you were having to him. He brushed a cool thumb over your lip, then tugged it gently to free it from your teeth and at the same time, he leant his head down to your level, “They can’t make you come like I can, darlin’.” This close, his warm lips brushed the shell of your ear, his voice reduced to a husky rasp that only further drew out that Brooklyn accent.

The soft moan that left your lips was almost pitiful, but you didn’t care, “Shit.”

You breathed the word, earning a deep chuckle in your ear before Bucky pulled back, only enough to see your face, “You want me to help you? Give you a helping hand?” His words were low and seductive, but he was looking between your eyes, making no more moves until he knew you wanted this.

If you changed your mind, he would leave right now, and say no more about it.

That very thought pained you.

Something had always hovered between you both… and maybe now was the time to let it out. You shared a few kisses on nights out and he had featured heavily in your fantasies night after night, wishing your fingers were his, the toys were him….

You met his eyes, your own clear and sure and you kept that gaze as you parted your lips. Then swept your tongue along his thumb and tilted your head down just enough to take it between your lips. The vibranium was smooth, cold and it felt oddly delightful on your tongue. “Make me come, Bucky. Prove to me you’re better than the toys.” Your voice was low with need, a soft pleading note for him there as you gazed up through your eyelashes.

The Arctic blue of his eyes deepened to near midnight, his pupils blowing out as he watched you talk around his thumb, your tongue sweeping over the metal and he almost purred, “Oh, baby, you won’t need toys when I’m done.” And then he was on you.

He gently pulled his hand from your face, instead placing it lightly around your neck, the heavy metal settling on your collarbones and that alone drenched you.

He looked between your eyes, checking one final time and then his mouth was lowering onto yours, his lips warm, plush and ever so inviting. Instantly, he licked a teasing line along your lips, which you would have parted for him without the request.

Bucky’s tongue slipped past your lips, sweeping against yours in hot strokes as he explored every corner of your mouth.

He tasted divine, and even more so when his thumb lightly tipped your chin back and he traced the tip of his tongue along the roof of your mouth, licking over the ridges and showing you exactly what that tongue could do.

A groan left your lips, and you slid your hands up his arms to those shoulders, those gorgeous broad shoulders that all you wanted to do was dig your nails into them and use for support as you rode him.

A deep curl of delight and joy was unfurling within the heat in your belly, because you needed this, needed more of him and his hands and his tongue and his words… and you were finally getting it

Hell, he had only just started kissing you and you already could have fallen apart just from that.

“Why have we not been doing this all the time?” Was the only thought that your already fuzzy mind could come up with as he pulled away slowly from your lips, only to begin pressing hot, open kisses against your jaw that were all teeth and tongue. He seared a path to your neck, kissing all over until he found that particular spot that made you whimper and arch into his body.

Bucky laughed low against your neck, the sound vibrating, “Oh, baby, you were struggling, weren’t you? I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already a mess…” He used his hand on your throat to tilt your head to the side, before biting at your skin, sweeping his tongue over the hot and sucking a deep mark there.

A slight whine rippled in your throat, fingers pulling as his shirt and your chest pushed against his, the firm heat of him making your nipples tighten, especially when he pushed into you.

Bucky slipped a hand between your bodies, tugging at the cord of your dressing gown and it slipped from your shoulders, leaving you bare and open to him.

He licked down your neck, his tongue smoothing over the shape of your collarbones and then down your sternum to your breasts. He butterfly kissed the soft flesh, then almost delicately sucked at your rleft nipple, lifting his vibranium hand to squeeze the other, “So beautiful…” He mumbled it half to himself, his dark mussed up curls soft against your skin.

One of your hands trailed up the back of his neck, slightly tangling in the hair at the base of his head and you pushed your chest further into his mouth, “Tease.” The word was a soft gasp, your eyes closing in pleasure and your lips parting.

He chuckled, pulling back to blow a cool breath on the wet skin, watching your nipple harden and then he moved to give the other the same treatment, “Oh, I’m a tease, am I? I can stop if you like.” He grinned around the delicate skin, just slightly grazing his teeth as he tugged your nipple and then he continued his trail of kisses down your body, slowly sinking to his knees. “I don’t think you’ll ask me to stop though, darlin’.” His right hand grasped your ankle, and then he ghosted warm fingertips up your leg, past your knee and then pausing at your inner thigh, at what he felt there, “No. No I don’t think you’ll ask me to stop at all.”

The cocky bastard grinned once more against your stomach, before dipping his tongue inside your belly button.

“Bucky…” You couldn’t hide the whimper in your voice, nor the way your hips rocked forward in a plea. It was almost painful how much you needed him to touch you, needed to feel his lips and his tongue.

“Shhh, baby, I know.” His hands slipped up your waist, as soothing as his gentle coo against your belly button and then he brushed his lips lower and lower… and then finally, he pressed a soft butterfly kiss to your pubic bone.

A low groan tore from his throat, his hands digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he saw you, swollen and positively dripping for him, “Oh, darlin’, look at you…”

The sheer desire and awe in his low voice caused heat to flush along your cheekbones. You weren’t shy by any means, but the almost primal admiration in his voice was something you’d never heard before, the pure want and desire to make you feel good and worship you.

Bucky admired the sight before him for a single moment, before lifting his eyes to yours and then he dove in, immediately devouring you like he was starving. His deft tongue slipped through your slick folds with ease, and he moaned again at your taste, at your smell, everything.

He pressed his tongue flat against you before sucking at your clit, with such an intensity that you almost choked. It was a simple movement, but it shot electricity through your body and made every single nerve stand on end.

He let that coil of energy begin to build, and then he licked back down, his hands sliding down to palm at your ass cheeks before digging his fingers into your skin, pulling you in further so he could bury his nose against your clit and his tongue – fuck, his tongue pushed inside of you, hot and heavy. It just felt so, so good, his nose putting pressure on your bundle of nerves, his tongue pumping inside you.

Your hands flew down to his hair, winding through it to keep him there, keep him doing that, to keep him fucking you with his tongue, “Buck-”. You weren’t sure what you were begging him for, only that you just needed to say his name, needed to do something.

Your hips began to rock in time with his thrusts, and you became aware of it only when Bucky’s muffled moan reverberating through you.

He liked it, no... he loved this, that you were grinding against his face as his tongue worked inside you, tasting parts of you no one else had ever gotten right before.

“Fuck, Bucky, keep doing that – I’m-” You cut off with a high moan, your head tilting back as you rocked into him faster, chasing down that high that was so tantalisingly close. It hadn’t taken long, you were so worked up from your failed attempts that you were already there.

Bucky’s began to lick and suck you with new fervour, his head moving in time with the jerks of his hips, feeling the way your walls were tightening around his tongue. His fingers dug harder into your ass, and you felt the silent command almost, Come.

And you did.

You cried his name out to the sky, every nerve in your body winding to near painful tautness before you shattered on his face, your first orgasm ripping through you.

Bucky didn’t stop, working you through it and drawing it out further and further as he lapped up every single drop you gave him, moaning himself like it was the most tantalising thing he had ever tasted.

He stopped only when your grip released on his hair, the sensitivity of your nerves almost painful, your legs shaking like crazy and he lifted his hand from between your thighs, his lips and chin glistening. He rose from his knees, nudging you back onto the bed and instantly crawling up your body, “You have no idea how good you taste.”

You whimpered slightly, catching your breath as you watched him crawl up you, eyes burning like sapphire fire, his tongue licking slowly over his lips as he savoured you. Words were beyond you, desire still coursing through your veins and you were a little in awe at how quickly – and hard – he had brought you to your first orgasm.

Bucky grinned devilishly, “That won’t be your last.” He lowered his mouth back to yours and as you tasted yourself on him, you grew instantly wet for him again.

His body brushed into yours and you felt how painfully hard he was through his jeans, the sounds and taste of you getting to him of course.

Your fingers had barely brushed against his restrained length when he shook his head, nipping at your lower lip, “Oh no, baby, this is all about you.”

You ignored him, palming him through his jeans and he moaned lowly before his eyes flashed, his hand suddenly back on your throat and he moved his hips away so you couldn’t get to him. “I said no.” It was almost a snarl, “This is about you. Not me.” His hand tightened just slightly around your throat, making it that little bit harder to breathe and your eyes rolled back at how delicious it felt.

It was a huge kink for you, the idea of someone – of Bucky - taking control, being in control of your body even it was just for a little while. You didn’t need to think or do anything. Only feel and be at the mercy of his touch.

You relented, legs falling open for him and you tilted your head back, searching for his lips.

Bucky granted you the kiss, a slow, languid kiss at first that was all simmering passion and tangling tongues, the taste on you still lingering on his lips.

He palmed your breast again, tugging and squeezing the flesh until he scratched his nails lightly down your ribcage and belly.

Yes, yes-

He wasted no time, no more playing and his fingers slipped lower, circling over your clit with a delicious pressure that had you instantly moaning into his mouth.

He toyed with your clit a little more, before gathering your wetness and then sinking two fingers inside you, pushing all the way into his knuckles, then drawing back out slowly.

As he withdrew, you moaned long and slow into his mouth and he began a steady rhythm. Pushing and curling his fingers inside you a few steps, then circling and pulling at your clit, ever so subtly switching it up with each pass so you couldn’t predict what he would do.

It felt amazing, but… there was something still missing. It still wasn’t quite enough to send you over that final edge… it wasn’t what you’d been fantasising about.

No, it was his left hand. That dark, golden vibranium hand that was currently seated around your throat.

The knowledge of what it could do, the sheer power in it that could easily crush your windpipe or shatter your jaw with a single flick of his wrist.

That is what you needed.

Those cool, powerful fingers inside you, working you over – that was the best toy.

It was like he could read your mind somehow, or the way your body sung to his tune. He lifted his head, looking down at you with those searing blues and he cocked his head, a slow grin lighting his gorgeous face, “Oh… This-” he scissored his fingers inside you, stretching your walls and ever so slightly brushing up against that spot, “isn’t quite what you want, is it, darlin’?”

Holy Christ, he was going to destroy you before you even got what you wanted.

You looked up at him, panting, hips rocking to the slower thrust of his fingers and you shook your head.

Bucky swore softly, panting himself and he squeezed your throat once before lifting his fingers, “You want these, don’t you?”

Instead of answering him, you ducked your head, taking his three fingers into your mouth and immediately gliding your tongue around them, up and down in slow, dirty strokes.

The effect was instantaneous. Bucky’s hips jerked slightly against yours, his mouth parting as he watched you suck his vibranium fingers, hollowing your cheeks, eyes rolling back in your head like… like it was something else entirely.

He groaned, swore again and then almost ripped his fingers from your mouth and from between your legs at the same time.

Your entire body mourned the loss, feeling empty, clenching around nothing but mere seconds later, he plunged those three vibranium fingers inside of you, slick with your saliva and how unbelievably wet you were.

It stung a little, but only added to the feeling as your hips rose off the bed, “Shit, shit-”

They felt… like the best toy you could ever imagine. Smooth, cold, and hard enough that you could feel every faint ridge of the joints as he slid them in and out. You reached out, grabbing his arm with one hand and the bed with the other, needing something to hold onto as instinct took over. Your hips rode upwards, back arching as you rocked his fingers in deeper, feeling them in your spine almost. It was better than you could have imagined.

Bucky dropped his head to your chest, spreading his mouth over your breast and his other arm slid over your hips, pinning them to the bed so you were forced to take it. “You wanted this, baby… You take it.” He bit down on the soft flesh of your breast before smoothing his tongue over it again, working an alternative rhythm to his fingers and thumb again, so that your brain couldn’t keep up with which one to follow. It knew only the waves of fire singing through your veins.

Time may have very well dissolved, because you could only feel pleasure, tinged almost with pain.

The thick, hard stroking of fingers as they stretched and wrecked you.

The circling, hard-soft-hard pressure of his thumb on your clit.

The bite of his teeth on your breasts, neck and chest, followed by the wet press of his tongue.

The way he couldn’t help his hips slightly rocking against your leg.

This was almost like a fever dream, expect your brain couldn’t have come up with something this mind melting. Not even if you were really, really worked up.

The noises in the room were absolutely sinful. The unrestrained cries and moans from your lips, Bucky’s groans and his filthy words, the wet pump of his fingers inside you – it was obscene, filthy and completely, painfully mind-blowing.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Bucky, please-” You had no idea what you were begging for, but every single nerve and muscle in your body was coiling tighter and tighter, your hips jerking against his arm as he pinned you down, forcing you to take this, to feel everything he was doing with no relenting. Tears were beginning to blur your eyes and the pleasure he unleashed upon you was almost painful.

Bucky somehow moved his fingers harder, deeper, the ability of the tech in his arm allowing him to do so, “Let go, baby, come on, let it go for me..” He dropped his head, biting down on your neck and he pressed his fingers against that spot inside you, flicking your clit with his thumb and then it all just snapped.

Waves and waves of hot fire flooded your body, dragging you up to the stars, further. It ripped the air from your lungs, made you half scream his name in a never-ending prayer.

It just didn’t stop.

Bucky kept moving inside you, drawing out every single second of your mind-shattering orgasm, letting go of your hips so you could grind them into his hand. “That’s it, baby… Look at you, so beautiful like that…” His praise spurred you on, making you feel almost like a goddess as you flooded his hand.

He stopped only when you slumped back onto the bed, sucking in deep breaths as you tried to piece yourself back together.

Better than toys indeed.

A little while later, you stirred from a light dose to see Bucky lounging on your couch again, cleaning the grooves and metal of his fingers with a soft cloth.

The sight of him concentrating, taking such care and detail with the clean-up, the cleanup from the mess you had made, had you instantly wet again. “Bucky.”

He looked up, hearing the low thrum to your voice and a smirk crossed his lips.

You had a favour to repay for his helping hand, after all.

#well #that happened #i am not sorry #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #arm kink

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elius-learns-to-write · 3 years ago

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Good Pep Talk

Hey besties <3, I have 6 more things coming out before the start of next week so keep your onions peeled and have an absolutely fantabulous day/night!!! :) P.S sorry if you don’t like MHA pretend it’s something else lol)

You were an excellent member of the team

But you always second guessed yourself

It presented itself in more ways than one but it became more prominent before missions or when you were talking to people with the same interests

“You like MHA too?” A girl whose name you knew you should’ve remembered as she told you last week as she sat down onto the old brown plastic chairs in math but just couldn’t. “Uhm yeah I do actually. How could you tell?” you chuckled nervously, trying to focus on filling up your water bottle that was sure to taste of metal when you took a sip. “Your jumper, I LOVE IT, honestly Kirishima is my favourite. He is just so cool, his quirk is awesome” no-name-girl was obviously excited to talk about it and seemed to be able to talk about it until the cows came home which in this case was exactly 10 minutes because the bell for first period would ring in about that. She carried on talking about the show as you started to wade your way through the crowded halls, you hadn’t really felt the need to add anything because she seemed to have the talking aspect of a conversation under control. That was until she mentioned his birthday “I even make an effort to buy myself a cake every October 18th to honour him” to the annoyance of your peers you stopped in the middle of the hallway to turn to her. “Actually it’s October 16th” she looked at you as if you had grown 2 heads and continued walking “I think I’d know if I was wrong. Now are you coming? We’re going to be late for maths”. You didn’t understand how her tone had gone from sickly sweet and excited puppy to bitter and holding the resentment of the world in her words. Maybe she was right and you had been wrong. Were you wrong? No , surely you weren’t. Right?

You tended to just shrug it off whenever it happened

But being in a place where everyone just seemed better than you really took its toll

Being in a family of superheroes was hard without being unsure of yourself but with it? You were sure to burst

“Hey y/n can you help me with this equation for the homework?” Peter asked from his spot on the floor, pages of notes sprawled out so far that they made him look as if he was floating in a sea of paper. “Go ask Bruce or Tony pr something their smarter” you grumbled looking up from the game of flappy bird you had been trying to occupy your mind with (not that it was working), “I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t think you could do it” he replied worry evident in his tone “well I can’t Peter”.

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You had been training with Loki for a good half an hour and you just couldn’t seem to master the illusion he had been trying to teach you “It’s okay, try again but this time don’t tense up and let your thoughts center on this” he advised in a poor attempt to soothe your worry “It would be so much better if you were teaching Wanda this, she might actually be able to do this” the man frowned as he watched you storm out of the room.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “No. If you do it like that you’ll give us all food poisoning” Steve joked from the stove where you had previously been frying up some chicken. You were trying couldn’t he see it. You had been sure you were doing exactly as he had said but then again it wouldn’t be the first time you had been wrong when it came to doing something. “Get Bucky or Nat or Wanda or anyone really, to help you because it's clear I can’t” you said walking out of the kitchen, putting your headphones on and plopping onto the cool leather of the couch.

Your family had been getting more and more worried about your behaviour

You stopped sharing your thoughts on topics they knew you loved

You hesitated when you made a point as if you didn’t trust yourself to say the right thing

And you tended to shut yourself in your room for days at a time

Steve decided that as you Father figure he should step in before the situation got even worse than it already was

Knock knock knock. Steve's knuckles gently rapped agaisnt the door “Y/n? Can I bring a doll?” his voice was muffled from inside your blanket cocoon but you still managed to say yes loud enough for him to open the door to your cozy room. You felt the bed dip to one side as he sat down, still you made no effort to move “me and the team have been getting a little worried about you, you haven’t seemed yourself lately. Do you want to talk about it?” you imagine the hopeful smile that was pasted on his face as if someone had done a shit job at wallpapering it over the worry that was there. “Not really” was all you said hoping it would be enough for the supersoldier to let you wallow in your cocoon for a bit longer, “Keeping it in isn’t going to help you is it” he sighed pulling down the blanket from your face so he could get a better look at you, now being able to see the slight puff and red tint our face had. “I just feel like everyone is so perfect and cool but here I am, just boring me who can’t even trust themself to get anything right” you sniffed, tearing up again as Steve pulled you into a hug “doll you aren't boring and you are twice as awesome then most of the people I know” “That’s because most of the people you know are dead or playing bingo at an over 65s home in the hills of california” he chuckled at that but continued “When I was your age I was lame and had no clue what I was doing but all I knew was that I needed to trust that doing the right thing was all I needed and now here I am” he looked at you to make sure you were okay “ you have that and so much more, you are smart and can do anything if you try. You put too much pressure on yourself, so what if you aren’t the best all the time at all you have to be kind. And I know you are kind” you smiled up at him feeling better than you had when he first disrupted you.“Good pep talk old man” you smiled at him as he chuckled “I’m not that old you know?” he shoved you playfully “sure old man. Now go play scrabble with your old people friends” he gave you one more shove before he got up and walked to the door. “I love you kid” he smiled“Love you too you iced americano”

No matter how you felt now they would help you love yourself again

And you couldn’t think of anyone you’d rather have helping you

#the avengers #avengers x platonic reader #avengers x teen!reader #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #steve x teen!reader #steve rodgers #tony stark imagine #steve rodgers imagine #loki imagine #loki x teen!reader #loki laufeyson #peter x teen!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine

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downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles · 4 years ago

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A Little Closer

[Raphael x fem reader]

sfw, apocalypse AU, 2012

The city that never sleeps.

They jinxed it, you thought as you dragged yourself along the street, Raphael at your side. The city wasn't only sleeping—it was dead.

You and him were alone, trying to get back in touch with everyone after getting split up. The team had been separated by unfortunate circumstances, nothing short of Murphy's Law. If you hadn't believed in the law before, you did, now.

But Raph could and would plow through a horde for you. He had to; he was your friend, the protector, at the moment. Because while you were able to handle yourself to some degree, ultimately, Raph was the one defending the both of you. And not even because you told him to. He took the role up himself, assumed it silently and never complained. You couldn't quite tell if it was because he felt obligated, or if it really was just his nature.

"You see that building up ahead? The tall one." He pointed toward a particular rooftop rising high among the ones around, and you nod. An infected ambled around in an adjacent alleyway. You glanced over at it anxiously, while Raph seemed completely unbothered. He was focused mentally planning their route. "That's our checkpoint. From there, we'll rest and see if we can regroup with the rest of the team."

The infected, a slower, pustule-covered form, started coming toward the two of you, stumbling out with quiet gurgles. "Raph," you said softly, with a tap on his hard shoulder. He glanced back at you before pulling out his sai, running at the infected and quickly dispatching it by a stab right in the eye socket. He avoided the sickly green caps.The creature fell heavily, and some of the pustules popped on the pavement, squeezing out a foul-smelling concoction of mutagen and infector cells. It amazed you every time just how fast he could get it done, the killing. And without fear—a few infected were more of an inconvenience to him than anything. He got in and got out, all the while you were left in awe at his ability to work on autopilot.

"Actually," he muttered, stepping around the body and into the alleyway the Infector had just come from. He noticed the fire escape and decided they'd take it from there on the rooftops. "I think we can get there from here. Feel like a little roof-running?" he asked you, throwing a subtle smile over.

Anything to get off the streets. Down there, it was bad. You had to look around every corner, watch your back even more carefully, and even then, straggling infected would still manage to slip under the radar. Though, luckily, Raph often was able to predict the movements of groups, which was what made you avoid the building horde making its way through the city. It was still a major scare to think you were clear and suddenly have a hunter-class infected jump out at you.

"Yeah," you answered him, following into the alleyway. "Yeah, let's do that. There are way too many Infectors down here." A shudder crawled up your spine to think about what the ooze those things carried could do to people.

He leaped up onto the railing, while you took the stairs. "It ain't the Infectors you have to worry about. It's the Hunters," he replied, pulling himself into the edge of the roof. You finished your ascent up the staircase as quietly as possible, and he met you at the top, grabbing your hand and helping you up the rest of the way. "But don't worry; I'll make sure none of 'em get you." You leaned forward and looked at him with a small smile, noting what he said. And that he still hadn't let go of your hand. "Or me," he added quickly as he released your hand and turned away to survey the series of buildings ahead.

You laughed, "Well, I'd be pretty screwed if I lost you, Raph. I kinda rely on you, y'know?"

Unknown to you, those last words would stick with him. For a long time.

"Yeah…" he trailed off. He didn't know how to respond to that. Of course, he'd been relied upon before; by Mikey, especially. He knew what that felt like. But protecting this girl? There was a new sense of pressure. Even Mikey could handle himself well enough alone. But there wasn't anything for you to fall back on, should he be out of the equation. No ninja training, not much knowledge of how to use a melee weapon aside from the basics, and guns were few and far between. Very far. A gang would trade you one, if you were lucky. Most people weren't lucky in that regard. Raph didn't want you anywhere near those thugs, anyway.

Between the two of you was nothing but the sound of the breeze. The city was almost dead silent, save for the occasional racket of survivors, or feral animals. Both were in low numbers; most of the city—the country—had been turned. The rate at which the infection spread was astonishing. Only here and there would a lonely human cause ruckus anywhere.

Raph cleared his throat, "We should get moving. Sun's going down and we need to hunker down for the night, the Hunters will be wakin' up soon."

"Sounds good," you said as you stretched your tight muscles out. Hours of almost nonstop walking and jogging could really work up some nasty knots.

You moved forward, him naturally taking the lead as you both made your ways across the roofs, him helping you along when you needed it, and you keeping watch for stragglers while you were at it. Sometimes, there would be other people up there. Other times, former people.

Coming up to a run down building, Raph made the last jump across, expecting you to be able to handle it. But you were hesitant, your body worn and weary from days of over exertion, and today was the straw that broke the camel's back. After all this time, you just couldn't muster the strength to clear the gap yourself.

Raph was about to go on ahead when he noticed you hadn't made it across yet, and he called out, "Y/N, what're you doing over there? Come on, this is our stop."

You wanted to do it, for the sake of his convenience, but it was too far. You could have over or underestimated and plummeted down into the alley below, gotten incapacitated, and became even more baggage. He watched as you backpedaled from the ledge. "I can't," you answered, slightly ashamed, "it's too far of a jump. I can't do it."

You watched as Raph easily bounded across, landing in front of you. "Here," he motioned for you to step in, and you did, where he then picked you right up into his arms and started backing further away. He'd lended you a helping hand before, a catch, sometimes, but never had he picked you up like this. "Wrap your arms around my neck, this is a little dodgy," he instructed you. He tried to ignore the fluttery feeling it gave him when you did what he'd said to do, wrapping your arms around his sturdy neck as he got ready to leap the gap. You were comfortable enough—Raph was strong. Really strong. But the threat of you both falling still have you anxiety, and for that, you had to clamp your eyes shut.

Without a word, he took off in a dash, one powerful leg launching the both of you off the edge. His arms tightened around you somehow more than they had been before. And for a brief second you felt wind. You still couldn't open your eyes, only focused on the feeling of almost absolute security in Raph's grip. Next was the hard landing, which jarred you out of your brief moment of warmth. He grunted, following through into a crouch and setting you down on your feet.

"You alright?" you asked him, concerned, placing a light hand on his shell.

He had a level of endurance that far exceeded the average person's, but even Raph was getting tired. He despised feeling weak, but his body was now actively working against him. He felt slow and heavy for his standards, running on fumes and secretly desperate for rest. As good of a sleep as he could get without worrying about being ambushed by something, be it human or otherwise. He knew he'd be back to the grind soon enough though because you needed sleep, too, and he would die before leaving you undefended in such a vulnerable state.

You realized then just now exhausted he was as he rose, taking in a deep breath. "I'm alright, let's just...clear the place and get in there," he said.

He approached the door into the stairwell and listened for a second before trying the knob. Locked. He was impatient to get in and finally be able to rest, so he just kicked the door in with everything he had, deciding to deal with anything that might be in there as they came. You grimaced; stairwells were awful places to fight anyone or anything.

Collecting yourself, you came over and peered in along with him. "Easy there, shouldn't we be quiet?" you questioned him in earnest.

He never intended to be rude to you, but his mood got the best of him, and he snapped back with a sigh, "Look, I'll get rid of them, okay? It's not like you're the one going in and killing them, so just stay out of the way and let me get it done."

You backed out of the doorway and shot him a look as if to say, are you serious? You knew Raph was prone to moodiness, but you'd never expected it to be targeted your way.

Shit. He slapped his hand onto the doorframe and leaned his forehead on it, groaning. Not even at you, but himself, because he'd just snapped at his only friend and ally out here at the moment. Seeing the flash of the look of hurt on your face at his words made him feel like a total asshole.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled after a minute of uncomfortable silence. He looked back at you, eyes falling on the sombreness of your expression. "I'm just tired. I'll be more careful here on out, if it makes you feel better. I know you're just trying to look out for us, trust me. I do."

"It's okay," you said softly. "Don't worry about it. Let's get in there now, yeah?" you nudged him, stepping in. You looked over the railing in search of anything suspicious. Oxidized blood, the hybrid mutagenic fluid that the Infectors secreted. No, it all appeared clean. But that didn't mean it was safe. Raph descended the stairs slowly, listening for anything he could pick up on. The two of you were surprised that it seemed clear, maybe even skeptical, but it didn't stop you as your paced picked up. Raph kept you behind him at all times with his sai out and ready.

"You think it's good?" you whisper, leaning your head over his shoulder. His eyes scanned the surroundings in the hallway you had just been lead into, still searching for any red flags.

There was nothing. No sounds, no signs of infected, and deathly quiet. The lack of noise disturbed Raph more than anything, but if it meant one night of peace, he'd take anything he could get.

"The residents must've abandoned this place when the evacs happened," you noted.

"Everyone should have stayed. Maybe then we would have had a chance of actually containing this thing and Donnie wouldn't have to be busting his ass to save us all. If that's even possible at this point."

He let his guard down a little. All he wanted to do was pick out any random apartment and take it over for the night. Trying the one on his left, the door slowly opened to reveal a messy studio, papers strewn about, cabinets still open, things discarded on the floor. He almost melted just seeing the couch, let alone a bed.

You were watching the hall just to make sure, but felt his calloused hand land on your forearm, pulling you in.

"Wow," you breathed out. "I never thought I'd be so happy to see such a mess. I feel like I haven't slept in three years," you muttered to yourself, shutting the door behind you.

Raph wandered around the room as he made his last checks behind the counters and such before he finally relaxed and slid his sais back into their holders. "No kidding," he commented. "I'd bet there's nothing to eat in here, though."

"Can't hurt to try."

Turned out that there wasn't anything but a couple of granola bars and a single bottle of water you'd found under the kitchen table. Probably rolled under there and the owner never noticed, but you were running low on your water supply, as your backpack was starting to feel light.

Raph kept the blinds closed tight in fear of being spotted from the window, even though it was practically a wasteland out there, but you couldn't help but part them a bit to catch a glimpse of the sun going down. That beautiful, warm glow that the Golden Hour produced, and the way it painted the sky. Though, it wasn't all that visible from where you were.

Sunset came and went and gave way to night. It was dark in the apartment; no electricity was being routed there, and so the only thing that lit up the area was the lone lantern you had sitting on the coffee table. Your eyelids were becoming so heavy that you couldn't stop to care if the furniture had bed bugs or other gross stuff. It was comfortable on your aching back, that's what mattered. You lay down on it and was already dozing off when Raph padded by. He stopped. You were so tired, he could see that. He could stand to stay up for a few more hours, he told himself—he would do that.

As you slept, he spent his time cleaning his weapons, adjusting his gear, snacking on what little the two of you shared. Also thinking. About how tired he was in that moment, his brothers (wherever they were), and finally...you. He found his gaze shifting from the knife in his lap that he'd been sharpening to you, sound asleep on the couch and for the first time in days, looking at peace. You had dark circles under your eyes, bumps and scrapes all over your body, yet for a little while, you'd forgotten all about it. Because you were asleep, obviously, but even though he was downright beat, he couldn't bring himself to disturb you. Not yet, at least. The clock on the wall was still ticking on. It was quiet, except for that—Raph couldn't complain. He softened watching you. There was something comforting to him about being able to drop the act and just observe you without having to talk. He wasn't always good at talking. He judged that perhaps you were only trying to fill the silence when you kept rambling or muttering, which was understandable. It made him wonder briefly if you felt awkward when he was quiet.

Raph was on his proverbial last leg in terms of his wakefulness when he heard your voice, the slightest call that was almost inaudible. He set his gear aside and shifted towards you where he sat on the coffee table, trying to figure out if you were only dreaming, or if you really needed something.

"You awake?" he whispered.

Arm dangling off the couch, you rested your face on your other hand. "Yeah," you answered through a dry throat. He remembered the bottle of water from earlier and reached into the backpack at his feet, handing it to you. He'd already drank over half of it.

"How long have you been laying there awake while I could have been getting some shut-eye?" he jested. You did your best to muster a smile, but it wasn't going. It wasn't like you to be so solemn.

He spoke again as you downed the rest of the water, "Uh...joking. Are you—"

"Can you hold me?"

You weren't looking at him. Your eyes were closed, and on the inside, you asked yourself why you'd said it. Maybe it was the mid-sleep grogginess, or you had just lost all care in the world. He was staring at you, but in the low light, you could hardly see his expression. He swallowed; oh, how this had taken him off guard.

"Just for a little bit."

He was going to stammer out something, he wasn't sure what, but anything to relieve the mix of awkward embarrassment he was feeling. He wanted to crawl into that couch with you, to feel the warmth of your body against his cold one—why couldn't he move? Why was it so hard to just say: "Yes, I can hold you."

He could fight. He could defend. What he couldn't do was comprehend his own emotions.

"I, uh…do you feel unsafe, or something?" He felt stupid to ask that, but that part of his mind wanted to rationalize your request. He would feel vulnerable in your shoes. He knew that for a fact. But really, he was aware that wasn't the case, you feeling unsafe; he was there. Your sentinel, willing to push himself as far as he possibly could, and then some.

A sigh left you, and the single word, "Please."

No more thinking. Just do.

He sat up, tentative in his approach to your tired form. You shifted back as far into the cushions of the couch that you could, offering him the space on the edge. He climbed down, and after a minute of trying to situate all of your limbs, he was finally comfortable. He would be lying to say his heart wasn't beating faster, that it didn't feel weird to drape his arm around you the way he did, being pressed against your back like that. Despite everything, it felt natural. Right. Like he'd been missing something that whole time, and as soon as he had pulled you into him, he had a revelation.

There were no words exchanged. Just the sound of the clock ticking and the both of your breaths as you were lulled back into sleep. He couldn't sleep yet. You still had an hour to go before it was his turn. Not that it bothered him. Not then; he wanted to be conscious for this, the feeling of fullness he had with how you seemed to fit against his body so well. The contrast of soft skin to his scales, his lean, solid muscles compared to your own less-developed. His fingers brushed along your wrist in some of the lightest touches he'd ever administered. His leg found its way over your own.

What started rigid and awkward now had melted him. His body hadn't felt that loose in a long time.

Whatever the next move was, he was fine with it. The team was close to finding each other after four days of separation. There was a horde forming outside, gathering up to blow through the city in one last sweep. But as long as they got where they needed to go, he didn't mind it at all.

a/n: i 100% did not feel like explaining how or why they got separated from the rest of the group just be along for the ride bby

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babbushka · 3 years ago

Note

Hey Zannah! I saw requests are still open so as a funny maybe sweet piece I had an idea. Maybe reader and Pale have a tornado warning and he’s the one who’s scared and reader’s just like “I want to go outside and watch” lmao. Just something silly possibly. Thanks babe, sending love to you today!!!!!

A/N: Thank you for this request! I have 0 experience with tornadoes I'm afraid, so I hope that you don't mind that I've changed this to a hurricane <33

1.2k, briefly NSFW

Somehow, during the hours and hours of heady lovemaking -- because really that’s what this was, that’s what this had melted into from the lack of energy after such a brutal fucking -- the world around you and Pale grows dark. It isn’t noticeable at first, how could it be? With the weight of your man on top of your body, pushing and pulling you further into the mattress, gasps and moans spilling from your lips. When you’re with Pale, your eyes shut so tight that the whole of the fuckin’ universe might as well be dark.

Except, it shouldn’t really be, the more you think about it, when Pale comes for the you-don’t-know-how-many-fuckin’-times-it’s-been, and he slumps against your exhausted body, limbs shakin’ from the effort of it all. The more you think about it, your senses slowly startin’ to return to your mind, even hazy and cloudy and foggy as they are from the pleasure, it shouldn’t be that dark.

And then, you hear the crack of thunder, and are reminded of the weather report the night before, a category three sweepin’ into the city. Somewhere, deep down in your bones, the ache of the pressure from the sky outside has you wanting to climb out of bed, much to your man’s dissatisfaction.

He’s got his eyes closed now, Pale does. You don’t blame him, he’s got to be tired from that spectacular performance, but you can’t tell if he’s asleep or not yet. The even rise and fall of his chest isn’t deterred by another loud smack of thunder, so you think it’s safe to try and peel away the sticky sweaty sheets, you think it’s safe to detangle your legs from his, getting one foot on the floor before a hand grips your wrist and a deep disgruntled voice asks,

“Where the fuck do you think you’re goin’?”

Smiling ever so gently, you lean over and press a kiss to his scowling face. Eyes still closed, his brow furrows, his nose crinkling up, like the thought of you getting out of bed for any reason is completely unacceptable.

“Outside.” You reply softly, already anticipating the protesting.

“No.” He doesn’t disappoint, cracking one eye open at you as he fumbles on the nightstand for a cigarette, “Absolutely fuckin’ not. In this weather? You gotta be outta your damn mind. Get back here, right the fuck now, under these covers, and let me kiss on you for a while.”

“C’mon, please? Just for a few minutes?” You grin at him as you reach over where he seems to be struggling, grabbing the box and sticking one of the cigarettes into your own mouth just long enough to strike up a match, light it, and pass it to him.

“What the -- did I not fuck you hard enough? Is that it? Is this you tellin’ me to plow you over the fuckin’ moon because I will -- let me just smoke a minute and then I’ll be right back fuckin’ to it but you ain’t gettin’ swept away by no goddamn hurricane on my fuckin’ watch.” Pale sits up fully now, his gold chain swaying ever so gently and bonking against his muscled neck.

“You fucked me plenty hard, honey.” You reassure him, letting him wind his arms around you, letting him drag you back against him, giggling the whole way.

“Not if you’re still talkin’ I didn’t.” He’s angry in the way that he always tends to be angry, and you just let him kiss you the way he wants, the way you both want, all the time. It’s a fucking wonder you get anything done, when you’re together.

Lightning peals across the sky, and Pale flinches this time, making you cock your head to the side a little, a soft smile gracing your lips as you card your fingers through his hair.

“Are you afraid of storms?” You whisper, like someone is listening and judging Pale for his answer, “It’s okay if you are.”

“Me?” He only scoffs and splutters and rolls his eyes at you in that way that says of course he’s fuckin’ scared, even as he wrangles you down to the bed a little more, kisses and sucks at your throat, “Oh now you’ve gone ahead and done it sweetheart, your VSOP ain’t afraid of no fuckin’ storms, but this ain’t a normal storm, is it? This is a hurricane baby girl, ain’t that supposed to have winds over one-hundred miles per hour? Nah nah nah, the last fuckin’ thing I need is for you to get swept away. Who the fuck would suck my dick then?”

Rolling you underneath him, your legs automatically wrap around his waist out of sheer instinct, and you laugh and smack a hand playfully against his strong stomach.

“Aw, you do care.” You roll your eyes right back at him, and even though he’s scowling at you, you can see the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

This was how things usually went -- you want something, he says no, you accept that response, and then he changes his mind anyway. In your two years together you think he’s only ever truly denied you once, but that was because he had been away. So when Pale decides to give you what you want, it’s not much of a surprise, even if you’re still pleased.

“Alright alright, just for a few minutes. If you get struck by lightning that’s your fuckin’ fault. Don’t go expectin’ me to rescue you, you got that?” Pale grumbles as he pushes himself away from you, reachin’ for the dresser and a clean pair of clothes to throw at your naked body.

“I’m a big girl, I can handle myself.” Expertly catching the slip dress, you pull it up over your head and let the cool silk slink down your body, a reprieve from the heat of the Floridian summer.

What a way to start your vacation, you can’t help but think, knowing Pale had whisked you away to Miami in an attempt for some tropical paradise shit that had to go get interrupted by the hurricane. It was only passing through for today, the weatherman said, and it wasn’t supposed to do much damage, but still.

Sitting outside on the balcony of your hotel room overlooking the ocean, it’s one of those sights that reminds you of the glory of nature. Something about the huge clouds, thick and dark, the choppy waves, the thunder and lightning make you feel very small, and it’s exhilarating. Yesterday the beach was crystalline blue, with the rainbow dottings of umbrellas and swimsuits, and tomorrow it’ll likely be that way too. But for this moment, it feels like you and Pale are in another world, one where the crisp rainy air fills your lungs, and the thunder shakes the sky.

“See? Isn’t this nice?” You turn to your man, who is smoking on the balcony, one arm slung around your waist, looking for all the world like he’s going to beat the shit out of the hurricane himself.

“You got a fucked up idea of what’s nice, you know that.” Peering down at you, he shakes his head, and you can tell he’s reaching his limit for how long he’ll go out of bed before complaining.

“Maybe.” You laugh, resting your head on his shoulder, watching as the horizon turns green with the oncoming storm, “But you like it.”

And despite all his bitching and moaning and groaning, he can’t help but huff out a laugh because, “Yeah, I do.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tagging some Pale lovin' friends! @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @sunflowersinthesnow @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @schopenhauerdeathsquad @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen @caillea @painttheskylineforme @holding-on-to-starwars @kylo-ren-is-alive @icarusinthesea @princessflip

#adam driver fanfic #adcu #pale x reader #pale burn this #burn this broadway #pale/reader #pale imagine #adam driver pale #adam driver burn this

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It

Ch8: Same Old, Brand New You Co-Written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Summary: Jake and Stella spend a bit of time together at home, rekindling their same old, brand new romance.

Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+) Word Count: 6.5k ish

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. We do not own any characters in this series bar Stella Stevenson and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: So enjoy this fluffy smutty chapter as from the next one, shit starts getting real...

TLAYLI Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 7 Part 3

Jake woke a few hours later, his face buried in Stella’s hair, one arm draped over her waist, the other was beneath her, laying just below the pillow. He shifted slightly, before he sighed a little at the pressure in his bladder telling him he needed to pee. As gently and as quietly as he could, he untangled himself from Stella, who was sleeping soundly and turned, swinging his legs off the side of her bed.

The clock on the dresser was telling him it was only five minutes to midnight, but all things considered they had gone to bed fairly early, both of them wiped out after an emotionally and physically charged few days, or weeks even, since Pooch’s wedding. He cracked his neck, rolling it across his shoulders as he padded into the bathroom, yawning. Once he’d sorted himself out, he washed his hands and ran them through his messed up hair, scratching at his bare chest, before he made his way to the stairs. He headed down, blinking himself awake as he went. He couldn’t see particularly well without his glasses which lay on the bedside table, but it wasn’t like it mattered all things considered. He knew his way around the Stevenson house with his eyes closed. However, as he reached the bottom he immediately noticed the sliver of light coming from the kitchen meaning that someone was in there, and given that Stella was in bed, it could only be her mom.

Unless they’d been broken into. But then, what kind of burglar turns on the lights?

Jake opened the door and peered in. Sure enough, Jules looked up at him from where she had just finished folding some ironing and she smiled.

“Hey, Jake. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just wanted to grab a drink.” He nodded. “That okay?”

“Course it is. In fact, I was just about to make myself a camomile tea before I headed up to bed. Do you want one?”

Jake could have quite happily grabbed a bottle of water, he wasn’t all that bothered about the tea, but something on Jules’ face as she waited for his answer told him to take her up on her offer. So he did with a thanks, and she then nodded to a smaller piles of clothes on the table. Jensen noticed that in true mom form, she had indeed washed and dried their soaking clothes from before.

“Put your T-shirt on.”

“Me being topless in your kitchen making you nervous, Jules?” He grinned as he reached for it and she scoffed, folding away the ironing board.

“The pair of you came back soaked before, I don’t want you catching a chill.”

With a smile Jake pulled it over his head, the familiar smell of Stella’s laundry detergent hitting his senses. It was one she used herself, she’d never changed it, not once, always saying it reminded her of home.

The kitchen fell silent as Jules boiled the kettle and made them the tea, before she returned to the table and placed one down in front of him.

“Thanks.” He smiled at her as she sat in the chair opposite him. He yawned a little before he took a sip of his drink.

“Am I keeping you up, sweetheart?” Jules asked and Jensen shook his head.

“No, it’s just been a long few weeks that’s all.”

“Yeah, I know.” Jules looked at him. “Stella’s been exhausted.” She took a sip of her drink, her eyes not leaving him. “And upset.”

Jake sighed, “I know.”

Jules studied him again for a moment before she leaned back in her chair. “Suppose it doesn’t matter, it’s done with for now but, are you sure the pair of you know what you’re doing?”

Jake frowned a little. “In what way?”

“Well, I mean she was with Evan for six months,” Jules held her hand up to stop Jensen as he was about to cut in, “she might not have loved him, yes, I heard all about that, but she was fond of him. To be honest we all were and I certainly don’t approve of her cheating on him with you in Mexico.” She looked at him, her eyebrows raised and Jake felt his cheeks flushing with heat. “You should know by now, Jacob, there are no secrets between me and my girls, well, not many that is.”

“I’m not sorry about that night.” Jensen shook his head. “I mean, I’m sorry it upset Stella as much as it did and I’m not particularly proud of my behaviour, any of it over the last few twelve months or so if I’m honest but…”

“What’s done is done. I guess I’m just a little worried that she’s finished it with him and barely a fortnight later the pair of you are back together.”

“I know how it looks, Jules. Honestly I do. And I’m not stupid enough to think that things can just go back to how they were. We got a lot to talk about, a lot to work through, but I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t try again. And she’s given me a second…or third…whatever, she’s given me another chance here and I wanna give it the best shot I can.”

“Well, Jake, you never do anything half-cocked that’s for sure.” Jules gave him a soft smile as she sipped her drink. “And I don’t need to ask you if you love her, because I know you do, you always have. But please, show it to her. Don’t take her for granted. Ever again.”

Jensen sighed and looked at Jules. “I know, I fucked up and if I was in your shoes I wouldn’t be happy about her taking me back either…”

“I’m not unhappy about it.” Jules cut him off. “How can I be? She loves you, and you make her happy. But I just don’t want to see her hurt again. Because if you do, Jake, then we," she pointed between the two of them, "will fall out. Big time.”

The threat might have appeared to anyone else as innocuous, but Jake knew the undercurrent it held. He’d never fallen out with Jules before, even when he and Stella had split up, and for her to threaten that made him uncomfortable. Momma bear was in full on protective mode over her cub, and he couldn’t blame her one single bit.

“I promise you, I don’t ever want to lose her again.” Jake shook his head, giving a little shrug. “She’s my Stel.”

“Good because you’re my little boy, you know this.” Jules smiled. “I watched you grow up as much as I did her, and I didn’t like seeing you both fall apart.”

“I know. And that’s on me.” Jensen hung his head a little, his hands wrapping around the now almost empty mug in front of him on the table as he swallowed and raised his head to look Julie in the eyes. “But if I have to spend the rest of my life making it up to her, I will.”

At that Julie smiled, and nodded before she cleared her throat and made a point of looking at the clock on the wall. “It’s late.”

It was her way of telling him the conversation was over, Jake knew Julie well enough to understand that, so he nodded and stood up as she did the same, collecting his mug. He watched her deposit them in the sink and as she turned back to him he cocked his head slightly to one side.

“Jules?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I hug you?” He grinned, holding his arms out.

The woman chuckled, “there’s always a Julie hug waiting for you, Jacob.”

With a grin Jake stepped towards her and wrapped his arms tight around her as she did the same, her hands softly rubbing at his back in the maternal manner she had off to a tee.

“Now, go on.” She stepped back as he released her. “And take those dry clothes up with you.”

With a smile, Jake collected the items in his arms and looked at Julie. “You know, it’s only since leaving home I actually appreciate how great moms are.”

“Huh,” Julie gave a low huff of a laugh, “you’re growing up my dear Jacob.”

“Had to happen eventually I suppose.” Jensen wrinkled his nose.

“Well, better late than never.” Julie arched her eyebrow, the resemblance between her and Stella in that moment was striking, even though from photos Jake had seen, he’d always thought Stella took after her dad mostly. Same colour eyes, nose shape, hair colour, but now…well, there was no doubting Julie was her mom.

With a smile he patted the jeans on the top of the pile in his arms. “Night Jules.”

“Night Jake, oh, usual for breakfast?” She asked and Jake paused in the doorway, turning to face her.

“You know, I was actually thinking I’d make Stel toast in bed, it’s been a while since I have.”

Julie smiled “Well you know where it all is.”

“I do. Hey, might even make you some, you know I’ve always wanted to get into your bedroom.” He quipped and at that she laughed.

”Get lost before I slap you.”

Chuckling to himself, Jensen headed back upstairs and into Stella’s room, placing the clothing down on the dresser. Stella had turned over whilst he’d been gone, facing the side of the bed he’d occupied half an hour or so previously and with a smile he pulled off his tee-shirt and slid back into the covers, as Stella gave a little murmur and reached out for him. He slid his arms around her, pulling her close, her head tucked under his chin as one of her legs slipped in between his, wrapping herself round him with the manner of a koala bear.

“Where did you go?” She asked, her voice rough with sleep, her eyes not opening.

“I was reconnecting with my future mother in law.” He replied, dropping a kiss to her head.

“What?” she asked, giving a little yawn and Jake chuckled.

“Nothing, go back to sleep.”

Jensen closed his eyes, his hands softly rubbing at Stella’s back over the top of the thin camisole top she had on, and eventually he felt her completely relax in his hold and it wasn’t long before he too drifted back off into a peaceful sleep.

****

When Stella woke up the next morning, the sun had barely started to peek over the horizon. Her face was pressed into Jake’s back, her arms wrapped around him from behind as she curled around him, her leg tangled between his. She pressed a soft kiss on his back before she stirred, stretching a little.

Jake gave a soft sigh as she moved a little behind him, his arm reaching up to hers which was slung over his hips, hand resting on his abs. “Morning, Stelly.” His voice was raspy, thick with sleep as he raised her hand to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of her wrist.

“Morning Jakey. Did I wake you?”

“Not really.” He yawned. With a stretch of his limbs he moved and Stella shuffled back a little to allow him the room to roll onto his side, facing her, that adorable goofy grin spreading across his face.

Stella gave him a shy smile, her cheeks tinged ever so slightly with pink. “Hi.”

“Hi, baby.” He chuckled, instantly understanding why she was feeling that way. Whilst this sure as hell wasn’t the first time they’d woken up together, it felt different, like this was something new that was just starting. And in a way it was, their second shot at something serious. And just the mere thought of that filled his chest with warmth.

“You sleep well?” She continued and Jake smiled softly, reaching up to tuck her sleep mussed hair behind her ears.

“I always do when you’re with me.” He whispered and her eyes sparkled in the early morning light as she looked at him, a soft expression on her face as he felt her react to the intimate touch, her body shivering ever so slightly, her chest hitching. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Sorta, I erm, I was dreaming all this wasn’t real, that you and I had fought really hard and had gone our separate ways and... I was so relieved when I woke up next to you.” Her words were hurried and Jake shook his head, his eyes locked into hers.

“Not a chance, Stel. I told you, I’m not gonna let you go again, I love you.”

At that he leaned in, his lips pressing to hers in a slow, gentle kiss as his strong arms wrapped around her, one sliding under her neck, the other over her waist.

She grinned against his mouth. “Say it again, I like to hear you say it.”

“I-“ kiss, “love-“ another kiss, “you.”

Her body melted into his as his tongue dipped into her mouth. With a soft, yet strong movement he rolled them gently so Stella was on her back, hovering over her, caging her with his legs as his arms continued to hold her close.

“I love you too, Jake.” She whispered as she broke the kiss, her nose bumping his gently and he smiled, his lips gently pecking hers again before he moved down, nipping at her jawline softly.

His lips softly moved down her neck, gentle kisses, like the flutter of a butterfly's wing. Jake wanted to enjoy each and every place on her body, from her cheeks to her sweetest parts, he wanted nothing more than to feel the way her body would cling to him. To feel something more than what he'd been feeling for so long. And he was going to take his sweet time in showing Stella just how much he truly loved her.

His gentle kisses moved back up to that spot where her jaw met her ear and he softly nudged it with his nose in between kisses. "Let me love on you, Stelly."

Stella gave out a squeak at the deep baritone of his words, the hot breath in her ear and she tilted her hips into his as he led over her. Jake pulled away, a slow and soft smile spreading over his lips.

His arms moved from where they had been holding her and his hands gripped at the hem of the oversized tee she was wearing and he tugged it upwards, Stella arching her back, just enough so he could pull it over her head. Caging her in with his arms, he bent his neck down and captured her lips again in a kiss, long and languid, slowly rolling his tongue around with hers. Breaking free, and using his strength to stay over her, Jake continued to kiss down her neck, reaching her collarbone and giving the protrusion a nip, before kissing the sting away.

One hand covered a breast, kneading the flesh with his palm while his mouth took in the opposite nipple. His warm tongue lolled over her hardened peak and he gave a little tug between his teeth, drawing a quiet groan from her mouth. He kissed between the valley of her breasts and up her sternum before his mouth replaced his hand and paid the same attention to her other nipple and breast, his opposite hand now kneading the other.

Stella's breathy, soft moans were music to Jake’s ears. Her noises were soft, delicate because they both knew where they were and how quiet they had to be. As Jake took his time with her, Stella relished on this soft moment. Her skin felt like she was in a bath of fizzy bubbles, tingling and popping with each touch or stroke.

Her hands gently gripped at his spiky, sleep messed hair as she sighed with pleasure, her head tipped back against the pillow as she arched off the mattress into his touch.

Jake continued to make moves downward along Stella's body, her tummy his blank canvas to work her over with. Sporadic kisses over her taught middle, a dip of a tongue in her belly button had her whispering for release but Jake wasn't through with her, no, this was all about Stella and giving her all he could and more.

He was rock hard, his dick visibly straining his sweats and he was grateful he hadn't worn his boxers to bed thanks to them being in the laundry due to them being soaked to the skin the previous night. His body moved along the mattress, as he moved downward over Stella's body, his broad chest now hovering over her hot and wet centre as his lips kissed in a horizontal pattern along the waistband of her panties.

Thick fingers curled around the hips of Stella's underwear and pulled the material away, Stella tilting her hips upward to assist. Jake sat back on his knees as he finished the task, tossing the panties to the floor of her room. It was now, when all he could do was fight back the knot in his belly, the swell of his chest, that his deep blue eyes looked at all of her. And suddenly, he was a little nervous, but desperately needed to feel her.

He toyed with taking his time with her or just going for it, and when Stella spoke to him at just above a whisper he knew his answer.

"Jakey, please."

His sweats were down to his thighs in a snap and he palmed his cock in hand, stroking himself just a little as he lined himself up with her. The feel of her wet outer folds against the velvety head of his cock felt so good and with a brush of pressure to her throbbing clit, Stella gasped and bit her lip.

Jake slipped right inside of her, his arms coming to rest on each side of her head as he pushed deeper in. Both emitting a moan louder than they should have.

"Shhhh," Jake whispered, hovering above her lips. "We gotta be quite, Stelly."

She nodded underneath him, and his hips pulled back and thrust forward, a slow and lazy roll to them. His movements were deep and strong, her body moving with his as his chest slid along her skin with each powerful drive into her he made.

Stella tilted her hips upward along with her head, capturing Jake's lips so they could swallow each other's calls of desire. With her hip tilt, Jake was able to rub the head of his thick cock against that soft spot inside that made her melt.

There was no hurry but there was a deep intensity to the way they continued to connect. Thrusts and breathy pants, moans swallowed by deep kisses. Stella's walls began to flutter around Jake's shaft as he began to pulse against her insides.

"Oh fuck, Stella," he croaked at her ear. He was close and so was she.

"So close," she whimpered, as if to affirm what he was already feeling as her hands ran over his spine and back up his neck, her fingers scratching at the base.

They came together with a white hot flash, stars flooding their vision, their cries of love crashing over that cliff swallowed up by a beautiful kiss.

As Jake emptied inside her, he buried his face into the crook of her neck, thankful for the ability to mask the pooled eyes he squinted shut. When he felt he could, he leaned back and saw the two tears that leaked from her own eyes and with the cradle of his palms against her face, his thumbs wiped them away.

Stella saw nothing but tenderness and true love reflected in Jake's eyes. This moment would forever be in her memory bank. Sleeping and being together had been a common occurrence for the two of them, even when they weren’t a couple, but this had felt as intense as it ever had. The way she felt, the way he made her feel, it was her Jakey. The goofy, weird, sarcastic beautiful Jake Jensen she had always loved. The man who made her feel things she could never with anyone else, no matter how hard she'd tried. He was home, he was safety, and his promises for forever had re-stolen her heart.

"I love you." Stella whispered to him.

"I love you, too." he replied softly.

With himself still inside her, he managed to roll the two of them so he was on his back and she led over his body, her knees in either side of his hips. Stella laid her head against his sweat sticky chest, her cheek pressed right against his heart. His fingers ran through her hair as they both fell back asleep for just a little while longer.

****

Later that day, just after lunchtime, Jake walked the short distance back to his parents. He hopped up the steps to the front door and removed his keys from his pocket and let himself in. His timing perfect, as ever, saw him step into the hallway at the exact moment his dad walked down the stairs.

“Oh, you decided to show up then?” John scoffed as he stood looking at his son.

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, you little shit, your sister told me everything.” John replied, his voice carrying a hint of amusement as he folded his arms.

“Define everything.” Jake grimaced a little and his dad snorted.

“I know exactly what happened in Mexico and why you came home.” John shook his head as he walked past Jensen into the lounge. “Don’t worry, we’re not offended in the slightest you didn’t come here first.”

Jake rolled his eyes as his dad sank into the arm chair, reaching for the TV remote. “It wasn’t on purpose Dad. In my defence, I didn’t really have a grand plan. I had like an hour to make the flight, I didn’t even bring a bag.”

“Yeah, well, by the expression on your face I assume it went well.” John looked at him, a smirk flickering across his face and Jensen grinned.

“Yeah, yeah it did.”

“So, when are you heading back?”

Jensen shrugged. “Not sure, probably in a few days or so.”

“Great.” John pressed a button on the remote, waving his hand towards the door of the room. “Now go tell your mother, she’s gonna be over the moon when she finds out.”

“You didn’t tell her why I was here?” Jake frowned, removing his jacket and tossing it over the arm of the sofa.

“Nope.” John shook his head, his eyes fixed on the Sunday Lunchtime show on the TV. “I didn’t want her to be disappointed if you fucked up. Again. I told her you were doing exercises nearby.”

“Nice to see you had so little faith in me, Pops.”

“Yeah, well, you have a history of colossal fuckups.” John mumbled.

“I know.” Jensen scratched at his chest over his T-shirt. “Hey, Is this the part where you give me the big father-son talk. Again?”

At that John laughed. “I will give you the talk as many times as needed, which in your case is a lot.” His eyes flicked up to Jensen’s and Jake sighed a little.

“I know I was a dick, I still am but I don’t wanna fuck this up again, Dad. She means the world to me and she’s given me a second chance. There won’t be a third, not least because she wouldn’t give me one but she’s not gonna need to.

John turned his eyes to Jake and levelled him with a stern look. “I hope so, son. Your mother and I love that girl as if she was our own kid.

“I love her too.” Jake shrugged. “And that’s all I can say.”

“That’s everything, Son. I’m happy for you.” John smiled, before he nodded towards the door. “Now go tell your mother.”

“She’s totally gonna slap me for not coming here first and going straight to the fake exercise, isn’t she?”

“Straight up murder you.” John nodded. “You know,” he rolled his eyes, “mothers.”

Jake grimaced. “Say nice things at my funeral.”

With his dad’s chuckles ringing in his ears, Jake headed into the kitchen and through to the small laundry room where his mom was busy shoving clothes in the dryer.

“Hey Ma.” He said and she gave a little start of surprise before she spun round, pointing at him.

“Jacob Calvin Jensen!” She blazed and Jake recoiled a little, wincing at her tone. “Why on earth you didn’t come see your mother before going to Exercise? And why aren’t you wearing your uniform?”

“What, why would I be wearing my uniform?” He frowned. ”That’s…whatever, that’s not important. Look, Mom, I didn’t come for an exercise.”

“You didn’t?” His mom frowned as she folded her arms. “Then where the hell have you been?”

“With Stel.” He replied simply.

“Stella?” His mom’s frown deepened. “So is all the team in the area?”

“No, just us.”

“Jake, what’s going on?” His mother demanded, her tone laced with frustration and he sighed.

“I err, well something happened when we were in Mexico and I had to make it right so, I did.”

“In Mexico? What did you do this time, Jake? And what is that you had to make it right? Oh my GOD!” She stuttered as she pressed her hand to her mouth. “Tell me you didn’t get a random Mexican girl pregnant, Jake!

“What? No!” Jake exclaimed, shaking his head. “Besides I was there like two weeks ago, how would I even know if I had?”

His mom immediately started rambling on about him being a dirty little shit and Jake let her continue for a while as she railed at him for whatever imaginary sins he had committed, but when she started on some long winded accusation about him sleeping his way around Cancun he groaned.

“Mom, you’re…you know what, the only person I slept with out there was Stella!”

At that his mom stopped dead, her eyebrows shooting up into her hairline. “What? I thought she was dating that guy she brought for New Years?”

“Look, it’s complicated but I made it right.” He shook his head, wanting to avoid that particular line of questioning. “I told you I came to fix something and I did. Stelly and I are back together.”

Instead of the smile he’d been expecting to spread on his mom’s face at that revelation, instead her brow furrowed once more into a frown and she shook her head, holding up her hand.

“Wait, wait. Back up!” She shook her head. “So you went to Mexico. Had sex. And now you’re back together?”

Jake groaned, “Mom!”

“Don’t ‘mom’ me!” She hissed. “You slept with her whilst she was with that other guy?”

“Yes, but they were breaking up, they have broken up!” He implored, dropping his head a little. “I thought you’d be pleased about it.”

“Of course I am, the pair of you belong together but that doesn’t mean I approve of what you did! You broke them up, on purpose?”

“Oh my God, are you even listening to me?” Jake looked at his mom, shaking his head and at that her face softened a little and she laid a hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry, yes, I am listening to you sweetheart, I’m just a little confused.”

Jake wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, it is…it’s complicated but, well, it doesn’t matter how and why, Mom, it just happened and, well, I love her. I love her so damn much and she took me back.” His voice dropped a little as he gave his mom a smile, popping one of his shoulders and to his relief he saw her finally smile back at him.

“You’re a lucky little shit you know that?”

Jake grinned. “Yeah, I do. Jules pretty much told me the same thing.”

“And did Jules tell you that if you fuck this up again she’ll kill you with her own bare hands?” His mom looked at him and he nodded.

“Yup. Dad also made his feelings perfectly clear a moment ago and I suspect you’re gonna join the club too.”

“You guessed right.” Janet raised her eyebrows. “And it won’t be a quick death either. It will be slow, and painful.”

“Gee, thanks.” Jake looked up at the ceiling before his mom scoffed a little.

“Well then for your sake you better heed said warnings then, hadn’t you?” She demanded and Jake dropped his eyes to hers before she smiled, and held her arms open. “Come here.”

******

The next day, Monday, was Jules’ birthday. Both families celebrated together as they always did, this time with a meal at an Italian joint and a chocolate cake Stella had made with Janet’s help. They had all chatted and laughed cheerfully over dinner, everyone trying to convince Jules she wasn’t hard to look at for her age and Gracie giggling every time Jake stole a kiss from Stella. Aubrey, however, spent most of the night shooting daggers at Jake before she collared him again when he emerged from the bathroom to issue one final threat. When he assured her said threat was received and understood she’d merely eyed him for a second before she shrugged and wrapped him up into a hug.

Tuesday was a bright sunny day and Jake suggested to Stella that they head out with Sirius for the afternoon and then caught a movie, just the two of them, later that evening before getting an early night ready for their morning flight back to Virginia. As such, the pair of them made their way to the park not far from Jake’s mom and dad’s, Sirius happily trotting besides them until they reached a less busy area and Jake let him off his leash for a run.

“You finished packing, baby?” Jensen asked, before throwing a stick for the large, black dog to fetch. He watched the dog sprint over the lawn of that side of the park before he turned to look at Stella who had remained silent.

“Yes, I guess I am.” She replied softly once she realized he was waiting for her answer.

“You guess?” Jensen wrapped his arm over Stella’s shoulder, pulling her to him before leaving a gentle kiss on her head. “What’s bothering you? You seem concerned about something.”

When she hesitated, Jake suddenly found himself worrying a little as he saw she was clearly unsure of what to say.

“Are you not ready to go back to base again?” He asked, trying to coax the answer out of her, trying to keep his face passive as he asked her out-loud what he was thinking. “Are you worried about Agent Shit-Name?”

“No, not really.” She answered, not a flinch at the mention of her former boyfriend, nor did she bother to pull Jake up on the use of his shitty nickname for the man. Instead, she took a deep breath. “Does this feel different to you? Like us?”

“Different?” Jensen frowned as he looked down to her. “In what way?”

“I really can’t explain it.” She shrugged, her eyes still fixed on a spot beyond the path ahead of them. “Like… there’s more riding on it maybe. If it doesn’t work out this time, then where do we go from there?”

“Is that what is worrying you?” Jake looked at her and she shrugged again and he sighed. “Hey, look, don’t think it won’t work babe, please. I promise you if it comes to me, it will.”

And it was then that Stella looked at him finally, his arm still curled over her shoulder as they walked round the lake with Sirius prancing and sniffing every tree, rock and creature a few meters ahead.

“I mean it, Stelly.” Jake pressed, desperate to get his point across that he wasn’t going to let her down again, to reassure her. “I love you baby and I wouldn’t do anything that risked what we’ve got.”

“I just don’t want this to go the way it did last time, and I believe you, I really do and I love you too.” Stella paused and swallowed before continuing, her eyes studying Jensen’s features. “It’s just, well the reason me and Evan didn’t work was because of you.”

Jensen then opened his mouth to protest but Stella cut him off with a movement of her hand. “I had no chance of being happy with anyone else not whilst you were there and this, well, if we end up that way again then…”

Jake needed no more words, he understood instantly what she was saying. That that was it. If they ever fell apart again, mind you, if he ever fucked up again, there would be nothing left for them. No friendship, no working partners, nothing. And, if he was being honest, that scared the shit out of him.

“This really is our last chance Jake. And that kinda freaks me out.” Stella continued, her voice bringing Jake back from his own thoughts. “But, we gotta try right?” She shrugged, making it look like a casual comment and trying to appear as collected as possible, but her eyes filled as she spoke that last sentence, telling Jake she was anything but.

Jake then stopped them both, and shook his head as he turned to face her. “Then don’t think about that happening.” At that he took a deep breath and cupped her face in his hands. “Look Stel, if anyone’s gotta be scared that would be me.” He felt his voice beginning to crack so he paused for couple of seconds as he softly rubbed Stella’s cheekbones with the pads of his thumbs. “I fucked up so many times before. I know that much and I also know I am a lucky bastard because you took me back.”

Stella shook her head, making him drop his arms to his sides. “We both did stuff that, well, with hindsight was dumb. But, it’s not even like we can take this slow, is it? Not with everything that’s happened, all the history we’ve got.”

“Why not?” Jake shrugged. “Let’s do exactly that. Let’s go right back to the beginning. We’ll date, do fun stuff, build it back from scratch.”

She chuckled, her features finally softening and her eyes sparkling at Jake’s so familiar giddiness. “Back to when?” She grinned. “To you helping me with my books the day we met?”

“Well... maybe not that far.” He grinned back at her as the memories of that day so many years ago warmed his chest. “But, let’s look at this as new. I kinda feel like it is anyway, I mean the other morning…” he trailed off and Stella watch him swallow hard, his throat bobbing slightly. “Fuck Stel, I can’t even begin to tell you how amazing that was. It just felt so special and that spark was there and…” he then paused to take her hands in his. “I don’t know, let’s work with that.”

“It was special, Jake.” Stella nodded, her eyes boring into his. “It was just us loving on each other, knowing that was where we belonged.”

“Exactly.” Jake breathed in as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and made them start moving again. “So let’s just run with it. We can’t keep dragging over all the shit that’s been before if we wanna make it work.”

“I do, I do wanna make it work.” Stella assured him, looking up at him. Her face split into a smile and she beamed at him, all traces of her trepidation seeping away. “Me and you, Jake. No matter what.”

He nodded as he grinned before leaning down to gently capture her lips on his, thanking his lucky stars that conversation had gone the way it had. “Now, I don’t know about you but I’m starving. Wanna head to the bakery and grab some food? I’d kill for a slice of red velvet cake.”

“You’re obsessed with that stuff.” She chuckled as she rolled her eyes.

Jensen shrugged and gave her his signature cheeky grin. “My two weaknesses in one place babe, you and cake.”

He watch her smirk from the corner of his eye as he called Sirius back and clipped on his leash. They headed out of the park and walked a few blocks down to one of their favourite bakeries in their town. The main lunchtime rush was over so thankfully it wasn’t busy and Stella didn’t have wait long outside with Sirius whilst Jensen headed in and grabbed them a sandwich each and then a large piece of his favourite cake and an eclair for her.

Once they’d got their food, they headed back to the park and found a little spot on one of the lawns and settled down to eat. They made small conversation as they ate their sandwiches, which they split as was usual when they were together the first time, Jensen commenting on how he had called Clay that same morning to tell him they were heading back the following morning and to fill him in with the latest update on the so-called “Operation Petunia”.

Despite their earlier decision to start new, they spent most of the meal reminiscing about the highlights of their relationship beginning with the day they met and ending with one of the most infamous moments they had lived together.

And no, contrary to what anyone who knew them might pinpoint, it wasn’t their first break up or any of the last month’s events.

“You have no idea how embarrassing it was to see photos of my boyfriend all over the fucking Army College campus wearing a whipped cream bikini with a banana up his ass.” Stella groaned at the memory, as she unwrapped their sweet treats.

“Oh, for fucks sake, Stel! How many times do I have to tell you it was a bet?” Jensen protested as he lay back on the grass as he thrust his arms dramatically in the air, making Stella roll her eyes.

“How would you feel about seeing photos of me like that?” She smirked as she leaned to poke her index finger on his chest as he cringed at the thought.

“Stel, just don’t, baby.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Stella grinned.

“You would have looked better than I did though.” Jensen quipped as he raised his head and chest, using his elbows now to rest the weight of his body upon, propping himself up.

“Well that goes without saying.”

“Okay, let’s not talk about my most embarrassing moments anymore.” He sat up, reaching for his cake. He took a large bite and groaned, swallowing, before he shoved more in his mouth. “By the way, this red velvet cake is delicious.”

“Is it?” Stella swallowed her own mouthful of éclair and nodded to the cake in Jake’s hand. “Let me try.”

Jensen broke a piece off for her and held it up as if to put it in her mouth but then before thinking twice he shoved it straight at her, mushing it round her nose.

There was a moment where Stella blinked, before she gave a shriek and grabbed a napking. “I fucking hate you.” She spluttered, wiping at her nose.

Jensen was cackling, but he soon stopped when she rammed what was left of her chocolate éclair into his face.

“You know, Estella,” he began to say as he wiped his face and licked the cream off his finger, smirking a little, “you really shouldn’t play with your food.”

“Oh, fuck off Jacob!” She snorted, using his full name as well.

“Oooh so angry, baby.” He mocked her as he dodged the napkin she threw at him.

“Shut up!”

“All right, all right.” He laughed and then looped his arm round her neck pulling her down with him as he leaned back on the grass again, his lips catching hers in a searing kiss.

“God, I love kissing you Stelly.” Jake sighed once they broke the kiss.

“Yeah?” She smiled. “Kinda like kissing you too.”

**** Chapter 9

#too loose and you'll lose it #jake jensen #jake jensen x ofc #jake jensen x original female character #the losers #the losers fan fiction #chris evans #chris evans characters

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gallickingun · 5 years ago

Note

could i request 48 with bakugo? i really love how you write him and i love your writing in general 🥰

a/n: you are so kind, thank you so much! my heart is in a fluffy place today so here is some sweet stuff!! well, it ends sweet. beginning is angsty :)

DID I HEAR SOMEBODY SAY BOXER!BAKUGOU????

Prompt #48: I called you at 2am because I need you.

“Fuck,” Bakugou brushes the heels of his hands over his eyes, one completely swollen shut and the other weeping uncontrollably. He fumbles in his pocket for his phone, bloody fingertips smearing over his screen. Another string of expletives tumble from his lips before he can find your name in his contacts.

He can’t help but note the time on his phone - 2:37 am.

“Please pick up,” Bakugou swallows the growing lump in his throat, “C’mon, pl-oh, hey.”

Your voice rings out on the other end of the receiver, gravelly from sleep but he can’t even notice because he’s just so thankful that you’re awake now.

His voice cracks when he speaks next, “C-Can you...shit, can you come pick me up?”

You rattle something off, not even asking where he’s at because you already know. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to pry his backside up off the concrete after a particularly difficult match. But, he has always had his main rule - no hospitals.

He hears the telltale beep of your side of the line cutting out and the nerves roll off of his shoulders in waves. He sinks further down the sidewalk, the brick scraping his already raw skin, but his adrenaline is pumping too hot for him to feel much of it.

When you arrive, less than a half hour later, he’s snoring against the wall of the alleyway, a garbage bin not too far away. You shake your head and step forward, smacking him on the back of the head to wake him up, “Alright, sunshine, time to go. Can you walk?”

“Oi, for Christ’s sake,” Bakugou rubs at the tender skin at the back of his head, “I could have a head injury, you bitch!”

You point your finger in his face, the tip of your nail grazing his bloody nose, “Call me a bitch one more time, Katsuki, and I will leave your ass in the street. They can pick you up tomorrow with the rest of the trash.”

Bakugou wants to snarl, wants to snap and bite at your finger, smarting off to you with some retort, but instead he keeps his mouth shut, shrinking back so you’ll leave him alone. He’s not in the mood to argue, not now. He’s already lost one fight tonight, and he doesn’t really feel like losing another.

Besides, the last argument the two of you had didn’t exactly go his way.

You help him up, lacing his arm over the length of your shoulders. He’s sticky with blood, but still warm to the touch. You help him hobble into your SUV, opening the trunk for him to climb in. You’ve lined the back with a sheet and plastic tablecloth so your car won’t be obscenely dirty after this, and your meticulousness makes him chuckle.

“Feel like a dog,” he mutters, dragging his legs up into the vehicle.

You toss his bag in next, grazing his bruised thigh as it skids to the other side of the trunk. Bakugou’s eyes go wide and he digs his hands into the sheet underneath him instead of mouthing off like he wants to. The last thing he needs is you tossing him out of the back of your car at high speed.

“You are a dog,” you answer.

The next thing he knows, you’re slamming the trunk and making your way to the driver’s seat. Something in him wants to speak, wants to say thank you or how have you been? However, when you turn up the music and the familiar piercing sound of hard rock hits his eardrums, he knows better than to say anything. Instead, Bakugou leans his head back against your window and dozes in and out of sleep.

He’s shaken awake by the slamming of your door, the soles of your boots stomping against the concrete of your garage. The trunk door opens and he squints his eyes against the bright LED light attached to the ceiling. He swallows, snatching his bag as he swings his legs over the bumper. It hurts, and his face must show it because you step closer.

He waves you away, insistent on dragging his own ass inside. You take a stride backward and watch as he struggles to stand upright. His knees give out and a string of curse words part his lips but before he can crumble to the ground, you’re underneath him, catching his body in your arms. You lift him up as much as you can, thankful he’s shed the flashy costume in favor of a signature black tank top and cargo pants. It’s much lighter and not nearly as bulky.

The two of you hobble over the threshold and towards the bathroom. It takes a few minutes because he’s slow and heavy in your hands, but eventually you make it.

“Get in the tub,” you instruct, turning on the water. You disappear into the hallway to grab a few towels and the first aid supplies, which gives him enough time to try and slip out of his tank.

When you return, he’s got his elbows stuck in his shirt, unable to yank it over the top of his head. You sigh, “You’re hopeless, you idiot.”

You snag his shirt and tug it over his head, having to extend your arms all the way given his height. Bakugou hisses as the tank sticks to a particular wound, the crusted blood on his shirt the only thing keeping it plugged. You ball up the fabric at the hem and give it a final tug, tossing it in the sink once it’s peeled from his body.

“God, what kind of guy did you fight?” You examine the cut which is now seeping blood, crimson dripping down the contours of his obliques. Bakugou peers down at you, a grimace ever present on his face, “Fuckin’ crazy ass. Fingernails were knives, super strength and shit.”

You shake your head and huff out a laugh, “Do you need help?”

The word ‘yes’ never leaves his mouth, but the wounded look in his eyes tells you all that you need to know. You unbutton his pants and drag the cargos slowly down his legs, careful not to reopen any major wounds. You do notice a few scrapes and gashes on his thighs and calves, making you wince at the sight. He steps out of the pants, the sensation of the cool tile welcome against his hot feet.

You’ll never get over the way his sweat smells - or rather, doesn’t smell. The scent radiating off of him reminds you of a campfire, of a summer evening spent in front of a set of flames, making s’mores and laughing with friends. His quirk seems to have nothing but upsides - not only is he both offensively and defensively a force of nature, but it also gives him a sweet aroma that deters the stench of salty sweat in favor of sugary nitroglycerin.

Bakugou kicks off his underwear, facing away from you, and you’re able to drink in his full form - he’s been taller than six foot since the last you could remember and it would seem he’s filled out even more in the past couple of months than when you last saw him. Even when he’s bruised and battered, he’s still beautiful, that much you know.

As he winces and his eyes close, you take the time to look over his shattered body. He’s got blooming purple and blue bruises all over his torso, little red cuts to offset the color range. Even still, the solid way he’s build, muscle and sinew wrapped around dense bones, makes your heart turn in your chest.

Bakugou breaks you from your trance as he steps into the bathtub, wincing and gasping as the water hits his open wounds. He sinks down to his neck in the bath water, the bubbles doing just enough to hide him from you.

“Damn,” he rolls his shoulders, swallowing the lump caught in his throat. He rolls his neck and his jugular pulses obviously, jaw muscles tensing under the pressure of his teeth as they grind together.

You drag the damp rag over the cut on his shoulder, trying to ignore the way his face screws up in pain. You sigh, “I think you’re gonna need stitches. Are you sure you don’t wan-”

“No hospitals,” he shakes his head, “you know what would happen.”

A growl rolls around in your throat but you swallow it, instead focusing on cleaning his wounds. Your cheeks heat from the closeness of his naked body, even though he’s submerged in bathwater and injured from head to toe. Bakugou has always been able to get you heated, no matter the situation.

“You can get your legs,” you tell him, wiping at his face with a new rag, staining the grey fabric red. Tears settle in the bottom of your eyelids, threatening to spill over the more you think about the situation he’s in. Despite the fact that he’s there completely out of his own volition, it still makes your heart wrench seeing him broken down like this.

The water is tinged a reddish brown when you’re done and he unplugs the bathtub. You hand him the towel before you get an eyeful of him, walking to stand in the doorway while he dries off.

“I set you some clothes on the back of the toilet,” you choke out the words, tilting your head to look up at the ceiling. He’s chuckling but it’s cut off by a grimace, “Still haven’t burned these yet?”

You kick your foot against the carpet in the hall, “Katsuki, just because you pissed me off doesn’t mean I’m not still your best friend.”

The words hurt as you say them, but you have to spit them out so they don’t die in your stomach. Being labeled as something so platonic has haunted you for decades now, ever since those playground days spent with the blonde, trying to pick up his mess and put back together those he’d hurt.

Bakugou makes the toilet seat shudder when he collapses on top of it, body hunched over from effort. He sighs, “I know you hate this.”

It’s his version of an apology, of words that he can’t ever seem to spit out right. It’s the exact reason you told him to leave you out of his irresponsible and illegal activities. Using quirks to fight was considered a heavy offense, landing some individuals life in prison. Katsuki learned to fight on the streets, and when he wasn’t accepted into U.A., he turned to underground fighting rings to satiate his need for justice and penance.

“You’re right,” you gulp, turning to crouch in front of him. You’re on your knees when you pull out the suture kit, “I do hate this. So why did you call me?”

His hand finds the fabric of your hoodie, curling around it to use as an anchor as you start to stitch up the particularly large gash on his rib cage. Bakugou grits his teeth, the answer coming out strained, “You’re all I have.”

Unfortunately, it’s the truth. Bakugou has become a rather recluse individual, relying on specific people rather than many. Deku earning a quirk and flying to the top of UA’s class was like a kick between the legs, something Bakugou wasn’t sure he could ever recover from. To watch his childhood rival rise on the charts, closing in on the other Pro Heroes until it appeared he would challenge even All Might in ranking, did nothing but tear down Bakugou’s confidence even more.

You noticed that he started to get involved in more reckless, high stake fights. He would call you, barely breathing, and beg you to take him home and put him back together. It helped that you had become a nurse while he was learning how to use his quirk to make money under the table.

And eventually you hit your limit.

“Katsuki, this has gone far enough!” you shouted, tears gathering in your eyes. You sighed, clenching your hands to fists, “It’s time to choose. I won’t be a part of this any longer.”

Bakugou growled, stepping forward even though he could only see you with one eye, the other swollen shut, “I don’t take orders from you!”

Your lower lip quivered and you threw the bloody stitches in the sink, your fingers worse for wear after patching him up so many times, “Eventually it’s just not worth it, Kacchan. Eventually it’s too much.”

“Maybe for a weakling like you,” he spits the words like venom, and you recoil as if they’ve stung, “but I’m strong enough to handle it.”

You nodded, nostrils flaring to keep yourself from giving away too much of your feelings on your face, “Then handle it by yourself.”

The memory alone brings the threat of tears to your eyes, heat gathering at your temples and making your forehead throb. You swallow the lump of emotion multiplying in your throat, begging your feelings to get out of the way so you can do this one thing, and then he can leave.

You’re sighing again, the sight of his swollen face making your whole body hurt, “God, doesn’t this get old?”

You wash his face with antiseptic before using a butterfly bandage to seal the wound on his face. The bruised eye will just have to heal with an ice pack and some pain medication, not much you can do so close to his dainty organs.

“All I know is my fists, you of all people should get that,” he snaps, voice teetering on the edge of patronizing. His hand flattens against your side, fingers curling around your ribs, “It’s been too long and I’m too far gone. It’s too late.”

You’re sliding forward now and he can feel your thighs settle atop his so he grasps you on either side, keeping you anchored to him as you work at his face. He has a few spots near his hairline and jaw that need to be stitched back together and you focus all of your attention on them, pushing away the reality that he’s holding you just the way you like, just the way you want.

You’ve imagined him holding you like this too many times to count. You always wanted to feel his hands on your body, keeping you enraptured in his presence, eyes glued in on your face while you sit in silence. Even if there were no conversation to be had, you would have been happy to find solace in his touch.

“S’never too late, Kacchan.”

The sound of you calling him by the name you used when you were small, when you were always chasing after him, it’s intoxicating. He swears he could get off on your voice alone - the way your lips curl around his name, how his chest tightens when you’re this close. The blood pumping in his veins is so loud he’s sure you can hear it thudding under his skin.

Bakugou tilts his head, looking up at you with his one good eye, hands falling to your thighs, “I’m sorry.”

An audible gasp parts your lips and you immediately blush, hating yourself for your outburst. It is rare for him to speak those words, to let loose the threads of honesty that haunt his mind. His face looks so open, so bare - eyes blown wide and jaw hanging open just slightly so you can see the pink of his tongue.

“Kacchan,” you shake your head, tears resurfacing as raw emotion claws at your chest like an enraged beast. You tie off his suture and drop your hands to his shoulders, thumbs brushing over the dense muscles connecting his neck to his throat, “Don’t.”

“All you ever wanted me to do was to be sorry and now that I’m saying it, you’re telling me ‘don’t’?” Bakugou’s voice rises with every word, his fingertips biting into the fleshy parts of your hips. He grinds his teeth together and his nostrils flare as he attempts to tame the fiery outburst that sits on his tongue, begging to be unleashed in a raging fury.

Your lower lip wobbles and he surprises you by brushing the pad of his thumb over the fullest part of your lip, effectively stealing your breath. He is being kind, gentle even, something you have not seen from him in quite some time. This is the Katsuki you know, this is the Katsuki you cherish.

There has always been something between you and Bakugou, ever since the two of you could figure out that you had emotions, but were competent enough to know how to hide them. He bottles himself up until he’s ready to explode, and you feel too much but your fear reigns you in and keeps you quiet. Neither of you spoke about it, although everyone around you could feel it, could see it.

Maybe that’s why you snapped at him all those months ago, telling him to choose. Maybe you wanted him to choose you so you could surge forward and kiss the breath out of him. But then he pushed you away, sidelined you as if you meant nothing to him; almost as if abusing his body and breaking his spirit was more important than you and the bond you shared.

“I-I’ve been so fucking lonely since you left.” Bakugou runs his fingertips down your jaw until he’s got your neck in his grasp, fingers spread out without issue over your throat. The tips of his fingers tickle the nape of your neck and you want to fall into him, to let him take you alive and never let you go. He could do away with you and you’re sure you’d still say thank you, still beg him to do it again.

Bakugou swallows and his throat bobs, but you snap out of your stupor to shake your head to fire back at him, “I didn’t leave, you chose fighting over our friendship.”

“Quit bullshitting yourself,” he growls, voice grating against his throat. You’ve never heard him so raw and real, so emotional. Bakugou grits his teeth together just long enough for your eyes to track the way his jaw muscles clench, “You wanted a confession out of me that night. You wanted something I couldn’t give you. And now you’re upset about it.”

And yet, the way that his hands hold you gingerly and warmth seeps into his carmine irises makes you think that he doesn’t believe what he’s saying, or rather what he’s denying. You roll your lips together, trying to rid yourself of some of the tension building up in your body. His eyes track the motion and it gives way to even more of his inner honesty to be put on display.

“Kacchan, I-”

Bakugou surges forward and kisses you square on the mouth, a bruising action that is over as soon as it’s started.

He pulls away, breathing heavy as his one healthy eye struggles to stay open at the sensation of your lips. His eyelashes flutter against the tops of his cheeks but you can’t notice because your eyes won’t even open. Your jaw is unhinged, mouth parted while you try to absorb what just happened.

“K-Kacchan,” you whisper, your voice too close to wanton.

His breath stutters over your lips, both hands on your face to hold you in place as he breathes you in. Bakugou’s hands are hot, warm against your cheeks, that familiar sweet scent making your head dizzy. You’ve missed the comforting smell, the reminder that he is close, within an arm’s reach. Other’s describe the scent as burnt sugar, but to you it’s a warm caramel, a familiar haze that makes you feel at home.

The both of you open your eyes at the same time, time moving slow as your irises meet. Your palms drift to his chest, knees shifting just enough so your hips brush his groin. Bakugou grunts, eyes dropping to your lips as his waist rolls upward to meet yours, “Fuck.”

A moment of hesitation passes between the two of you before you clash together in a searing kiss. His lips slot between yours as his hands drift into your hair, holding you close to him while he makes quick work of your mouth. Bakugou, even battered and tired, is skilled at knowing when to tug your lips and when to soothe you with his tongue. It’s as if he can read your mind, making moves you didn’t know you wanted him to make before your mind can catch up with your body.

“Kacchan,” you whine into his mouth as he sucks on your lower lip, digging his teeth into the sensitive flesh. One of his hands drifts to your hips, fingers digging into your backside as best he can from this angle.

He groans, “Love it when you call me that, shi-baby, say it again.”

You echo the name repeatedly, feeling the desperation in him grow with each syllable. He’s probably opened one of his wounds with the way his muscles are tensing but he couldn’t care less. All he’s thinking about is the way you taste, the way you feel. Your mouth is warm and gentle in comparison to his raging power, the desire to overwhelm you like an opponent sits in his belly, a fire being stoked with every motion. The touch of your hands in his hair is grounding to an extent; reminding him that he’s here, with you, and it’s not just a dream.

Eventually you have to part long enough to breathe, but he starts down the path of your throat, open-mouthed kisses leaving a patch of warmth behind. It’s as if he’s unable to let you go now that he’s had a taste of you. You whine, digging your hands into his shoulders while he works at your skin.

“I should’ve picked you,” he murmurs against your collarbone. He sucks a small hickey into the thin skin before nudging his nose over your jugular, “I-I should’ve made the right choice.”

You’re gasping for breath, the sheer force of his kisses from earlier still leaving you wanting. You look down at him, eyes blown wide and lips bruised from use, and you know that he’s telling the truth. There’s something in his irises that he can’t hide - a certain vulnerability you’re sure he’s only shown to you.

“Suki, I-” You swallow the hesitant lump in your throat, every word you’ve had pent up in your lungs for the past few months begging to be freed. Bakugou shakes his head and kisses you again, mouth silencing you before you can let out something too honest. He has to tell you the truth first; he’s been sitting on it for months, percolating with it and allowing it to eat him alive.

“I fucked up, okay? I get that.” Bakugou nuzzles his nose against yours, keeping his eyes closed because otherwise he knows he won’t be able to finish his sentences. “You scared me shitless, and I screwed everything up. I know that now. And I’m sorry.”

You brush your hands through his hair, tugging gently to reassure him. He huffs against your neck, “I wanted to choose you, I swear.”

“I wanted you to pick me,” you exhale, and suddenly you are Atlas and the world is being lifted off of your shoulders when the truth is spoken. Tears collect in the corners of your eyes but you know that it’ll frustrate him if you start crying so you lean back to try and keep them at bay. After taking a short breath, you whisper, “But I’m sorry I ever made you choose. That wasn’t fair.”

He kisses the base of your throat, lips muffled against the skin, “I-I can’t promise you I’ll just quit. This is my life right now. But, I-”

“You can’t change for me,” you tug on the back of his head to get him to face you. “I know that now.”

You’re sure his irises have never been so soft, so pale; amber gazing up at you in awe of your words. His lips are parted and you take advantage of the moment to lean forward and take his mouth captive. You slip your tongue between his lips, mapping out the curves of his teeth and gums. You moan when he suckles on the tip of your tongue, biting down gently on the base, enough to make you squirm.

He peels back to press his forehead to yours, gasping for breath so his chest brushes against your torso. Bakugou notices the glassy look in your eyes, the way your mouth loses speed the longer he kisses you.

“C’mon,” he murmurs into the curvature of your neck, “let’s go to bed.”

You blink slowly, “B-But, Kacchan, I-”

“No buts, loser,” he picks you up and tosses you over his good shoulder. A quirk-laced slap to your backside makes you squeal, “Kacchan!”

Bakugou chuckles, spanking you again, but this time much lighter. He rubs his thumb over your thigh as he walks you to your room, the trek all too familiar, “You’re falling asleep while you’re kissing me, loser. It’s past four in the morning.”

It does not take long for you to fall asleep after he’s wrapped himself around you underneath the covers, ankles crossing beneath the blankets. His hand is in your hair and his ears perk at the sound of your gentle snoring, adoration making his mouth turn upward and his eyes shine. Bakugou buries his mouth in the crown of your hair, kisses dropped over your scalp like flowers planted in a garden.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, squeezing his good eye shut, the other throbbing in a dull rhythm.

Somehow those words are easier to say when you’re asleep.

---

a/n: well, that started off alright and then slowly digressed into... dumpster fire. but hey, what’re you gonna do! i bet you hoes thot you was gettin’ some spice, huh??

taglist: @kamehamethot @simplybakugou @lady-bakuhoe @todorki-shoto @redhawtriot @burnedbyshoto @cookies-n-chaos @katsukisprincess @rat-suki @cutesuki--bakugou @k-atsukidayo @bnhatrashh @succulent-momma @voiceofreader @multifandom-fanfics @that-one-enthusiast @bitchtrynafck @cutest-celestial-princess @blue-peach14 @pastel-prynce @bokunokangae @shoutodoki @bakuoushoe @tenyaingenium @hoe-biscus @kingtamakimurder @myherofuckademia @myherowritings @lxvely-mha @myherorambles @ramen-rambles @bratwritings @samanthaa-leanne @orokayagi @tumblingintothefeelstrain @sunbeamwrites @bnhawritten @bnhasidebin @lovekatsukibakugo @aizawamirite @plusultrawritings @bnha-violetnote @yuueimagines @suckersuki @heroes-landing @bnha-mha-imagines @heroesreverie @pink-imagines @brattyquirks @kazooli

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki imagine #bakugou katsuki one shot #bakugou katsuki fanfic #bakugou katsuki fanfiction #bakugou katsuki boxer #boxer au #boxer bakugou #my writing #morgan writes bnha

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winterscaptain · 4 years ago

Note

anyway we could get a worried!hotch blurb when you’re in the hospital after getting injured? i’m a sucker for anything fluffy with hotch

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

i LOVE worried!hotch. i am always happy to oblige, anon! this is.........not a drabble lmao i got excited. its a little angsty but then its really cute i promise

i hope you like it!! it’s a common scenario with a widely accepted structure, so i was excited to put my own spin on it :)

words: 1939 warnings: swearing, canon-typical injury, medical setting, a very worried hotch

masterlist | requests closed

+++

You weren’t sure how this case slipped from the team’s control so quickly, but somehow you were alone, on the floor with two black eyes and at least three broken ribs. It was hard to breathe, and something really didn’t feel right.

The unsub was unconscious beside you, felled by a well-placed kick to the jaw. You crawled to your cell phone. Slowly. Painfully.

The coughs that shuddered from your lungs were wet and heavy and you could barely see. You turned your phone on and called Penelope, falling unconscious before you could say anything. With any luck, she would be able to find you with just that much.

+++

Hotch’s knuckles were white where his fingers strangled the steering wheel. His only focus was the coordinates he just received. Ignored was Emily’s death grip on the handle above the door. Ignored was JJ leaning into the front over the center console, getting more tactical information from Derek, who was still at the precinct. Ignored was the ache in his clenched jaw.

The door to the house nearly fell off its hinges when Hotch kicked it open, the SUV forgotten on the lawn behind him. Emily followed, striding through the house and clearing every room before moving on.

Hotch made a beeline for the basement, the door carelessly left open. The lack of sound acutely disturbed him, and he pushed away images of Haley’s body, laying silent on the floor of their guest room.

Silence, he knew, often meant unpleasant surprises.

JJ’s light footsteps followed behind him as he descended. He saw the unsub right away, stirring at the foot of the stairs. JJ branched off, checking the unsub’s pulse before rolling him over and cuffing him. She called for Emily, but the rushing in Hotch’s ears made it hard to hear anything.

He knelt beside you, finding a pulse and rattling, labored breathing. There was blood weeping from wounds laced across your side, arm, and thigh. He put pressure on the worst of it, his white button-down a lost cause. stained red to the elbow.

Images of Haley and Kate flashed before his eyes, and blinked them away, violently shaking his head.

“Call medics! Now!” He lifted your head, supporting it in the crook of his arm as he did his best to cover your wounds with his bare hands.

You coughed, your consciousness returning for a moment, “Aaron.” and there was blood. “Aaron...”

“You’re okay, honey. It’s okay. I’m here. Medics are on their way, I promise. I love you. You’re okay. I love you.” He wanted that to be what you heard, so you weren’t scared, so you stayed awake.

So much blood.

+++

The waiting room was quiet. Hotch sat with his elbows on his knees, blood still spattered on his shirt, staining his hands, streaked across his face. He’d done his best to give the paramedics the space they needed to work, but it was hard to watch as you struggled for breath.

One of your ribs had punctured a lung, collapsing it. They said surgery would be a couple hours, but there was a good chance you’d make it. “A simple patch,” the nurse said.

Aaron stared into nothing, his eyes close to crossing as the tiles blurred in front of him. Belatedly, he realized the blur was tears.

A hand on his shoulder startled him. Dave.

“It’ll be alright, Aaron.”

He barked a quiet, humorless laugh. His voice was raw when he replied. “How can you know that?”

“Because I know you.” Dave paused. “And I know there’s more to it than what we all see in the office.”

A bag was dropped at Aaron’s feet, in front of a pair of boots.

“Hotch, you need to get cleaned up.” Derek’s voice was shockingly gentle.

Aaron looked up for the first time in what felt like hours. JJ, Spencer, and Emily stood a little off to the side. With a sigh, he heaved himself to his feet and snatched the bag from the floor.

It was hard for him to wash your blood from his hands and face. It felt like a piece of you, washing down the drain. His hands shook as he washed them over and over, well above his elbows.

As much as he hated to admit it, the soft grey cotton of his shirt felt much better against his skin than his sticky, stiff dress shirt. He mechanically slipped on a pair of worn jeans and sneakers, thankful he thought to pack them in the extra compartment of his go bag.

One of your sweatshirts was at the bottom of the duffle, probably from the last time you spent an unsanctioned night in his hotel room.

He held it to his face, your familiar smell overwhelming his senses. When he placed your sweatshirt back into his bag and packed away his soiled clothes, his hands weren’t shaking so much. His breath came easier.

The air conditioning felt cool against his bare arms when he finally left the bathroom, returning to the huddle in the corner of the waiting room. JJ was doing her best not to pace. She was seated, her leg bouncing and the inside of her cheek firmly planted between her teeth. She looked ready to jump to her feet at any moment, which probably explained –

Derek, sitting beside her, his arm looped through hers and his legs splayed out before him.

Dave sat with his head bowed, and Hotch was near-certain he was praying. Emily sat beside him, her head on his shoulder. Her eyes were closed, but she wasn’t sleeping. Her brows were far too drawn for that, her mouth too tense. She was picking at her nails. Again.

Spencer, of course, was reading, but he couldn’t sit still. He shifted and shuffled every few minutes.

+++

“Goddamn it.”

Hotch smacked the vending machine with the heel of his hand. It had already eaten five dollars, and his patience was admittedly running thin. It was the fourth hour of your surgery, and he was feeling the weary weight of constant vigilance.

“Hey. Hotch.” Emily trotted up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Let me.”

She gently fed another bill into the machine, and a bag of chips met their match and landed at the bottom. She handed the bag to Aaron and guided him to a nearby bench.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you two, or should I take a guess?”

Aaron sighed and pulled a hand down his face. “Do we have to do this right now?”

“It’s as good a time as any. Neither one of us are going anywhere.”

“Prentiss...” He trailed off, not sure where to start. He looked over at her. “Emily.”

She shuffled closer to him and mirrored his posture, her elbows resting on her knees, fingers loosely laced. “Just start from the beginning.”

So he did.

He told her about meeting you in the elevator for the first time.

He told her about the way you tripped up the stairs just outside the entrance to the office the second time you saw each other, your files scattering on the snow-dusted concrete.

He told her about the way you made him laugh.

He told her about your first date a few months later, and how he couldn’t get you out of his head.

He told her how you were with Jack, how often his son asked to see you and the way you always gave him your full attention.

He told her about your transfer into the unit, the dichotomy between the joy of having you beside him and the fear for your safety in the field.

He told her that he loved you, in so many words.

“I feel alive,” he said. “I can’t lose –“ He cut himself off and swallowed thickly.

“That’s not gonna happen. It’s not. You’ll both go home at the end of this.” She bumped his shoulder playfully. “And I am the authority on near-death experiences, here.”

Aaron gave her a small smile in spite of himself.

Emily stood and brushed imaginary crumbs from her pants in an authoritative and decisive fashion. “Now, I’m getting you some coffee. Eat your chips, Hotch. Try to taste them, too.”

She’d only taken three steps, when -

“Hey, Emily?”

She turned over her shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

+++

You opened your eyes to the image of Derek sitting next to your bed, peering at you.

“Jesus Christ, Morgan.” You couldn’t help but jump a little, and your ribs twinged. “You scared the shit out of me.”

He grinned at you. “So. You and Hotch?”

You rolled your eyes, and even that hurt. “Seriously? How long have you been sitting there waiting to ask me that?”

“Three and a half hours.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but Aaron stepped in before you could draw breath. You watched him as he crossed the room with purpose and set his coffee down.

Ignoring Derek entirely, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your lips, then your forehead. He took your hands in his and pressed kisses to those, too.

“Feeling better?” He asked. The transformation of the man who walked through the door and the man that held your hands was stark. His eyes were softer, brighter, his shoulders lower.

You nodded, smiling fondly at him. “Much better, now.”

A noisy sigh erupted behind you. “Guys...c’mon.”

You looked back over at Derek with a smile, the shadow of Aaron looming over your shoulder.

+++

At the end of it, you were fine. Your lung was repaired (for the most part), your wounds mended. The hardest part was taking time off, and the physical therapy.

Physical therapy sucked.

Most afternoons found you spending time with Jack at the apartment. As soon as your arm was strong enough to manage a controller again, you spent hours playing his favorite games with him while the team was away on cases.

Your office at home had become essentially a satellite BAU hub. The team phoned you in to almost every case, and you took a great amount of joy curating maps and profiles from your office. The display was rather beautiful, at the end of it. Notes and photos and maps all over the walls.

There were footsteps behind you as you finished pinning a post it to the board. “Hi, jet-setter.” You turned around and quirked a smile at him, admiring him in one of his new suits. He walked toward you, leaving his briefcase at the door.

He framed your face with his hands and you leaned into him. He kissed you gently, and you slid your hands under his suit jacket. The light, spicy scent of his cologne hit your nose and you smiled against his mouth.

“I missed you out there,” he said, his lips traveling down your neck and jaw.

You huffed a laugh, and you planted your hands in his hair. “I was on video with Penelope the whole time.”

He hummed into your skin. “Not the same and you know it.” He pulled back, running his hands over your upper arms.

You watched him take stock of you, his eyes tracing over the scars on your forearm, your pinkie that wouldn’t quite sit straight anymore, and the nebulizer on your desk behind you. “I’m alright, Aaron.”

He kissed your cheek and wrapped his arms around you, holding you to his chest. “I know.” Your hands curled around the fabric of his dress shirt at his sides. He tucked his head and pressed his lips to your skin. “I know.”

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @saintd0lce @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @vintagecaptainspidey @micaiahmoonheart @ogmikis @thatreallyis-americas-ass @marvels-agents100 @newtslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @joemazzello-imagines @pinkdiamond1016 @sebbybaby0 @wannabewinchester67 @pan-pride-12 @hotchlinebling @lee-rin-ah @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @emmice9

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #tali writes fanfiction #anon reply #i'm not even gonna pretend this is a drabble #so i wont tag it as such lmao

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tails89 · 3 years ago

Text

Unbreakable

Pairing: Evan Buckley x Eddie Diaz Rating: T Warnings: None Words: 2.7k

Read on AO3

All it takes is one split second.

Buck had been right there beside him, talking into his radio, confirming they were on their way out.

And then he was gone.

The floor had caved in beneath them with a thunderous crack and somehow—Eddie still can’t fathom how— somehow, Buck had managed to shove Eddie to the side before disappearing in a shower of smoke and smouldering wood.

“Buck!” He screams, kneeling on the edge of the hole and peering over. He can see the yellow stripe on the back of Buck’s coat, unmoving beneath the debris. “Captain Nash, this is Eddie.” He fumbles with the radio. “Buck is down. He went through the floor, I can’t— he’s not moving.”

He doesn’t wait for the reply. Eddie scrambles to his feet heading back towards the staircase that will take him to the ground floor.

“Chim is on his way to you.” The radio crackles to life. “Can you get down to Buck and give us a report on his condition?”

“Yeah, copy that.” Eddie takes the stairs, two at a time. “I’ve almost got him.” He skids to a halt, dropping to his knees beside Buck. As far as he can tell, the turnout gear has protected him from serious burns, but the fact that Buck’s unconscious is a serious concern.

It’s probably only been a minute or two, time moves at a strange pace when you’re trying not to panic, but any blow hard enough to knock someone out is dangerous.

“Buck?” Eddie knocks away bits of debris. “Can you hear me? Open your eyes, cariño.” He rubs his closed fist against Buck’s chest, breathing a sigh or relief when it prompts a groan from the younger firefighter. “Hey, there you are. Just stay still for me.” His heart is still pounding as he clears a space around Buck, afraid to move him before Chim arrives but also mindful of the burning building around them.

“Eddie?”

“I’m right here.” He leans into Buck’s field of vision. “I’m going to get you out of here, okay?”

Buck blinks up at him, his eyes fluttering shut for a second before he drags them back open.

“Don’t even think about it,” Eddie warns, glancing up as another figure arrives. “Eyes open Buck, or I’ll tell Chim what you said about him this morning.”

“What’s this?” Chim asks, kneeling opposite Eddie. “Buck’s talking shit about me again?”

“Nothing that wasn’t true,” Buck mumbles.

“If you say so, Buckaroo.” Chim moves quickly, assessing Buck’s ability to move before nodding to Eddie.

“Alright, time to get out of here,” Eddie says. “Let us do all the work okay?”

“You’re good at that, right Buck?” Chim pipes up, earning a pained smile from their patient. They each hook an arm across their shoulders and heft Buck upright. He groans, eyes squeezing shut from the movement.

Eddie and Chimney carry him out into the fresh air, carefully lying him down away from the fire, then get to work.

Hen joins them as they strip him of his jacket and start a more thorough assessment of his injuries. Eddie kneels by his head, keeping up a steady stream of reassuring chatter as Hen and Chim poke and prod and jostle.

Buck doesn’t say anything, just gives short jerking nods when he’s asked a question, eyes scrunched up in pain and discomfort.

Eddie reaches down to grab Buck’s hand; the one Hen hasn’t just inserted an IV into and gives it a squeeze. The fingers in his grip tighten in response.

“Ready to transport, cap,” Hen calls out when she’s done. The three of them get Buck on the backboard and transfer him to the stretcher.

“Bobby?” Eddie glances over at his captain, still clutching Buck’s hand.

“Go,” Bobby tells him. “Keep us updated.”

With a nod, Eddie follows Chimney up into the back of the ambulance.

The ride to the hospital is tense, even with Chimney cracking jokes to lighten the mood.

Buck is in and out, drowsy with a probable concussion and who knows what else. Eddie can feel the panic clawing at his throat, but he manages to keep it together, never once letting go of Buck’s hand until they reach the hospital. He focuses on the point of contact, using the warmth of Buck’s skin to keep grounded and remind himself that Buck will be okay.

It feels like it takes no time at all to reach the hospital. Hen does the handover while Chim and Eddie help transfer Buck from the stretcher to a bed.

“Let us know what happens,” Chim says, giving Eddie a clap on the shoulder, and promising to be back after their shift.

The hospital staff try to send Eddie away too, but Buck has come around enough that he is not having that.

“I’m his partner,” Eddie explains, laying a calming hand on Buck’s shoulder. One of the nurses has cut away his pants to inspect the burns on his leg and another is tearing through his shirt. “Please, I won’t get in the way.”

Buck is pretty out of it once they give him some pain relief. He gets wheeled away for imaging tests and Eddie takes the opportunity duck outside to text Bobby an update and call Carla to ask if she can take Chris to stay with his aunt.

Chris, of course, immediately wants to come and stay with Eddie at the hospital.

“It’ll be boring, kiddo,” Eddie tells him. “Just lots of waiting around and Buck will probably be asleep.”

“But what about when he wakes up?” Chris asks. “He shouldn’t wake up alone, dad.” And Eddie just can’t with this kid. He wonders, not for the first time, how he managed to raise someone with such a big heart.

“He won’t be alone,” Eddie promises. “I’ll be here, and maybe tía Pepa can bring you over in the morning. I know Buck will want to see you when he wakes up, but tonight he needs his rest.”

“Okay, dad.”

Eddie doesn’t need to see his son to know how hard he’s pouting at the phone right now.

“Tell Buck I love him.”

“I will. You be good for Pepa. Love you.”

“Love you too, dad.”

Eddie disconnects the call with a sigh then goes to check his messages. There’s a text message from Chimney saying he’d called Maddie.

“Shit.” Eddie quickly scrolls to her number. He’d completely forgotten in all the chaos—Maddie should have been the first person he’d called.

“Eddie?”

“Maddie, I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t worry about it, Chim called me and let me know what happened. How is my little brother?”

“He’s going to be okay.” Eddie rattles off some of the words that had been thrown around in the emergency room. “Concussion, second degree burns on his legs, maybe cracked ribs?” He takes a deep breath. “They’re doing some more testing to determine the severity of the concussion, but they didn’t seem overly concerned.”

“That’s good news at least,” Maddie says. “Evan just can’t do things by halves can he?”

Eddie huffs out a soft laugh. “Half-assing it just isn’t in his vocabulary.” The ball of anxiety that’s been sitting in his chest for the better part of an hour finally starts to unwind.

“I’ll be there soon,” Maddie says. “And Chim said he was going to head over. Have you eaten yet? I’ll bring you something.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Eddie assures her.

“I know, but you must be starving. Chim definitely will be.”

“Thanks Maddie.”

“I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Yeah.” The call ends with a beep and Eddie shoves his phone back into his pocket. He’s still wearing his turnouts, he realises belatedly. His coat is draped over the chair behind him, his helmet balances on a knee.

“Mr Diaz?” One of the nurses beckons him over. “We’re admitting Evan,” she tells him. “If you’d like to come with me, I’ll take you up to his room.”

“He’s okay?” Eddie follows her down the corridor towards the elevator.

“Nothing nasty turned up in the MRI,” she explains. “His helmet protected him from any skull fractures, but he still got his brains rattled about pretty good.”

The elevator doors open with a ding, and they step inside.

“He’s got a couple of cracked ribs and the burns on his legs will need to be monitored to ensure they don’t get infected.”

“How long before he can come home?” Eddie asks.

“His doctor wants to keep him overnight to monitor the concussion, but all going well, he’ll likely be released tomorrow, maybe the day after at the latest.”

When the lift stops, she leads him out to a room on the ward. Eddie pushes the door open to step inside.

“Buck?”

The lights are low, but it’s still easy to make him out on the bed. Eddie drags a chair over, taking a seat at Buck’s side.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I fell through a floor and had the whole house land on me,” Buck croaks, looking a lot more alert than the last time Eddie had seen him. He’s still pale and drawn, but it’s good to hear his voice.

“Well—”

“Don’t say it,” Buck groans. He swallows, his face paling even more, something Eddie wouldn’t have thought possible. His birthmark stands out in stark relief against his skin.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asks, reaching for Buck’s hand. He rubs circles into the skin of Buck’s wrist.

“Nausea.”

“I can help with that.” The nurse who’d shown Eddie up to the room is still hovering nearby. “I’ll go have a chat with the doctor and be back in a minute.” She hands Buck an emesis basin before she leaves, just in case.

Alone in the room, Eddie reaches with his free hand to run his fingers through Buck’s hair. He’s careful not to use too much pressure and aggravate anything but Buck seems to appreciate it, sinking down further into his pillow.

“How are you really feeling?” Eddie asks, his thumb trailing across Buck’s temple.

“Like shit,” Buck mumbles. “Nothing… hurts? But I know it’s going to later.” He shuts his eyes, swallowing convulsively to keep from being sick, clutching the basin in his free hand.

Fortunately, the nurse returns before he has to use it. She gives him something and leaves them alone again.

“You should get back to Chris.” Nausea dealt with, Buck is loose-limbed and sleepy, blinking up at Eddie.

“Chris is fine,” Eddie assures him. “He’s spending the night with Pepa. He wants to come by and see you tomorrow if you’re feeling up to it.”

“Mm, I’d like that.” Buck’s eyes drift shut and his breathing evens out into sleep.

Eddie watches him for a moment, still running his fingers through Buck’s hair, until he’s sure he’s truly out. He pulls out his phone to see that Maddie, Chim, Bobby and Hen have all arrived.

He stands, pressing a kiss to Buck’s forehead and goes downstairs to meet his family.

Maddie is the one who convinces Eddie to go home.

He’s grimy with sweat and soot from the fire they had been attending and she gives him her best big sister stare and tells him under no uncertain terms that he stinks.

“And I mean that in a loving way,” she says, handing over a box of Chinese takeout.

He sits outside with Chim and Hen to eat, while Maddie and Bobby head upstairs to check on Buck for themselves.

“How’s our boy doing?” Hen asks.

“He’ll be fine,” Eddie says. “He’ll be sore and grumpy when I take him hope, but you know Buck.”

“Yeah, I don’t envy you there,” Chim says. “Buck is the worst patient, so have fun with that.”

After they eat Bobby gives him a ride back to the station to collect his car.

“I’ve called Marcus in to cover your shift tomorrow,” Bobby says as Eddie is climbing out of the car. “If you still need time after your days off, let me know.”

“Thanks Bobby.”

“Don’t mention it, you just take care of Buck for us. And take care of yourself too.” Bobby drives off and Eddie walks to his car before he starts getting too many questions from B shift. Buck is a well-liked member of the 118 and everyone wants to send Eddie off with well-wishes to pass on.

It’s late by the time Eddie finally gets home.

With Chris off at Pepa’s and Buck at the hospital, the house is dark and quiet. Too quiet, in Eddie’s opinion.

He turns the TV just to give himself some background noise while he showers and changes for bed.

It takes a long time to fall asleep.

Eddie picks Chris up in the morning on his way back to the hospital.

Chris has a thousand questions about what happened, and will Buck be okay, and when can they bring him home.

It strikes Eddie that he’d said the same thing the night before. He’d asked the nurse when he could bring Buck home.

For all the time they spent together and as much as Buck was a part of the family with Eddie and Chris, he did still technically have his own apartment. Not that he used it that much. Eddie had been able to pack a bag using the clothes Buck had stuffed into a drawer in Eddie’s room. There was a toothbrush on the sink for when Buck stayed the night.

Maybe it was time for Eddie to finally ask Buck to move in.

The thought keeps him distracted the whole way to the hospital. He’s still mulling it over as he helps Chris down from the back seat and leads the way up to Buck’s room.

“He’s asleep, dad.” Chris is disappointed when they open the door and Buck is still fast asleep.

He’s got a bit of colour in his cheeks this morning. He doesn’t look quite so pale against the starched white hospital sheets.

“You sleep a lot too when you’re not feeling well,” Eddie reminds his son, pulling up a second chair and moving Chris’s crutches to a spot where they’re not going to trip anyone up. “Have you got your game with you?”

Nodding, Chris pulls his Switch from his backpack, content to play his game while they wait for Buck to wake.

It doesn’t take long. The thing with hospitals is that they’re never really quiet and Buck jerks awake when something is dropped just outside his room.

“Hey, you.” Eddie leans forward in his chair and waits for Buck to get his bearings. “How are you feeling?”

“Ugh, I feel like shi—” he notices Chris on the other side of the bed, “-t.” He grimaces. “Sorry, brain could thing of anything fast enough.”

“I think we’ll let it slide this time,” Eddie says, grinning.

“Dad says sometimes bad words are okay.” Chris puts away his game and stands, shifting his weight so he can lean against the bed for balance. “I’m glad you’re okay Buck, I missed you last night.”

“I missed you too bud,” Buck says, reaching out to ruffle Chris’s curls. “Just seeing you makes me feel better already.”

Chris beams at the words and Eddie feels his heart swell.

“So,” Buck shifts on the bed, his face tightens as he jars something, probably his ribs, but he doesn’t mention it. “Any idea when I can get out of here?”

“I was talking to a nurse last night who said you’ll probably be released today,” Eddie tells him. “But we’ll have to wait until the doctor gives you the okay.”

“Hospitals are the worst,” Buck groans, his head tipping back against the pillows. “Right Chris?” Chris nods and Buck pats the bed. “Why don’t you show me the game you were playing while we wait.”

Buck is discharged late that afternoon.

He makes a fuss about using the wheelchair, but when he tries to stand all the blood drains from his face and he has to sit back down real fast.

“Ready to try the wheelchair now?” Eddie asks him, keeping a gentle hand on Buck’s shoulder in case he tries to faceplant again.

“Yeah.” The word comes out in one long breath. “Sorry, I didn’t think it would hurt that much.”

“When we get home, I’ll make up the couch for you,” Eddie says, “and you’re staying there for the rest of the week.”

“Home?” Buck glances up sharply.

“My home,” Eddie clarifies, then after a moment’s hesitation says, “Our home.”

“I like the sound of that,” Buck says, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Okay Eds, take me home.”

#911 #buddie #evan buckley x eddie diaz #evan buckley #eddie diaz #hurt/comfort #shameless whump #hurt!buck #happy ending #911 fanfic #my911fanfic

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kindahoping4forever · 4 years ago

Text

Wanna Know That Body Like It’s Mine // Calum Hood

@cal-puddies and I once again cannot thank you all enough for clowning with us during another Hoe Hours weekend! If you haven’t yet, be sure and check out Cass’s Cal fic from yesterday (I Love The Sound, I Love The Taste) and my Ash fic (Fight So Dirty) that kicked off the event. (In addition to the bonus Cal blurb - What’s Mine Is Yours - we couldn’t help but co-write because again, we’re clowns.)

We’ve been hyped on this piece for a while - it was requested by an anon (and specifically requested we co-write, which warmed our hearts) about a month ago and while there were stops and starts, we’ve basically been working on it ever since (I swear Cass had sent me a shared doc within seconds of me sharing the request lol). We can’t wait to hear what you think so please blow up both of our inboxes!

Warnings: Boyfriend!Cal. So much smut but an equal amount of feelings. Unprotected sex in an established relationship, oral and manual stimulation of both a male and a female, semi-public sexual encounter, sex toys, rimming, pegging.

Word Count: 11,384

Cass & Crystal’s Masterlist // Hoe Hours Masterlist

Crystal: Taglist // Ko-Fi Cass: Taglist // Ko-Fi

Let us know what you think!

————-

“Hey babe!” Calum calls out, letting himself in to your apartment.

He’s greeted by a fit of giggles followed by an apologetic “Sorry, Cal, we’re almost done.”

“That’s OK, pretty girl, I’m early.” He walks by the living room, offering a quick ‘hey’ to you and the friend you’re visiting with and then helps himself to your kitchen. He gets himself some water and finds something to munch on, leaning against the counter and absentmindedly scrolls his phone while he waits.

He respects your privacy so he does his best to tune out what he can hear of your conversation but he can’t help the way his ears perk up when he hears your friend use the term “pegging.” He can’t hear much beyond that and he makes a note to ask you about it later.

She leaves shortly after and you pop your head into the kitchen on your way to change into your date night outfit. “Ready in 10,” you announce.

“No rush, baby, take all the time you need,” he reassures you, still scrolling his phone.

You sidle up next to him. “Of course you say that, you’re in here spoiling your dinner,” you tease, dipping your hand into the box of crackers he’d selected and shoveling a few into your mouth.

He takes a breath to defend himself but is stopped when you slide a few crackers into his open mouth; he chuckles and presses a crummy kiss to your lips and swats at you as you leave the room.

Date night is a success: you and Calum treat yourselves to a great dinner and even greater sex. You’re cuddling in bed afterwards, talking about whatever comes to mind. There’s a brief lull in the conversation and then he asks you how your afternoon visit went.

“Oh, it was entertaining as always, you know she’s always got a story,” you laugh.

“Sounded like, you girls were really getting into it when I showed up,” he teases, kissing the top of your head as you lay on his chest. He waits a beat then continues, “Did I overhear something about pegging? I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I was digging through the fridge and that’s the type of thing that kinda grabs the attention.”

You nod and smile against his skin. “Yeah, she was saying they’d been talking about it for a while and then he whisked her away on this big trip for her birthday last month, surprised her with all the gear and they finally did it.”

His curiosity is piqued so after about 30 seconds, when it seems like you’re not going to continue the conversation, he boldly presses, “And?”

Unfazed, you reply, “And? They loved it. Said it made her feel powerful, he came harder than she’d ever seen. Super hot, brought them closer together, all that stuff.”

“Huh,” Calum comments noncommittally. There’s another short hanging silence and then he asks, “You ever thought about that?”

“Pegging? Um... you know, it’s not really something that’s crossed my mind.” You kinda shrug and turn your head up to look at his face. “Is it something you want me to think about?”

“Maybe… I don’t know,” he ponders out loud. “I don’t think I’d be opposed... I mean, you let me do that to you.”

“Well, it was a lot of work to get me to be able to take you that way,” you remind him.

“And I think it was worth it. And you don’t seem to complain about it,” he playfully argues.

You smirk at him, “There’s nothing to complain about. I do like it, that’s why we keep doing it.”

“You make valid points,” he grins. He watches you yawn and then kisses your nose. “Get some sleep, love.”

The subject doesn’t come up again over the next few days and you think nothing of it when you receive a text from Cal asking if you want to visit the sex shop. You both enjoy incorporating toys into your sex regularly and you hadn’t treated yourselves in a while, so you respond that it’s a great idea.

You walk hand in hand into the shop and then Cal kisses your cheek and you break off to look at different things. You browse for a while and then decide to find him and see if he had anything particular in mind for this trip.

You find him in front of the wall of strap ons, harnesses and dildos and he’s looking more than a little wide-eyed.

“Hey handsome, what’d you find?” You ask, curiously peering in the direction of his eyeline.

He leans in and admits in a low voice, “After our talk the other night... I just keep thinking about it.”

“Oh... OK,” you reply, rubbing his back gently. You’re a bit surprised but immediately supportive. “So... what are we looking for?” You gesture towards the wall.

You watch as he opens his mouth a couple times to answer and then he just shuts it and walks forward, looking closer at different toys. You can immediately sense he’s overwhelmed by the choices.

You link your arm in his and press a peck to his shoulder. “I know it looks like a lot but you’ve helped me pick out toys before so you’re not totally in the dark here,” you point out. “It would just be... you know, for you this time.”

“I think that’s the intimidating part,” he comments, chewing his lip. “I don’t want to pick wrong and not enjoy it and mess up something that’s supposed to be fun for us.”

You rub his arm tenderly. “Cal, we’re talking about us, we always have fun trying things. So you don’t need to worry about that,” you say firmly, hoping your confidence will provide comfort to him. “If you want to do this, the important thing is that you’re comfortable and figuring out what you want is the first step.”

He nods and scans the wall again, taking a deep breath. “The flesh colored ones are a lot,” he says quietly. “We should get a fun color.” You smile agreeably.

“I’m not ready for balls. Just a cock,” he states, almost under his breath. You bite your lip in amusement, not wanting to discourage him.

“This is good, bubba, you’re narrowing it down,” you encourage him.

An employee sets up a ladder to the left of you to get a toy down for another couple and you see Calum’s eyes repeatedly darting over there; you’re not sure if it’s out of embarrassment at his uncertainty or curiosity in what they’ve selected.

You give him another couple minutes but he’s gone quiet and you decide to step in. “Maybe it would help if we went home and talked about it? You can look at some of my toys, feel the different textures… we can look online and filter things down?” You gently suggest. “This was a good start but it might be easier to make a decision without the pressure of being in a store.”

He exhales, you assume in relief, and puts his arm around you. “Sounds good, baby,” he agrees. You expect him to lead you out of the store but instead he walks you over to the furthest corner of the intimidating wall. “Wanted to show you this, thought it suited you for some reason.”

He points at a box containing a chic-looking red and black harness; it’s a similar style to lingerie he’s picked out for you before, with fancy lacing details over the hips and ass. Of course even when planning a sexual encounter that he’s requested, he would think of you first. You grin at him. “I love it, we should get it,” you declare.

“Yeah?” He beams excitedly, picking up the box. “It caught my eye and I couldn’t get the thought of you in it out of my mind. It says it’s adjustable for most toys and it’s crotchless.” He winks at the last part and you giggle, taking the box from him and heading to the counter.

You leave the store on a high and Cal seems really into it for a few days; next time he’s over at yours, he even asks to have a look at your toys. He feels them, wanting to understand the weight and the girth.

“I have to applaud you,” he comments, sitting on your bed, studying your collection.

“For what, bub?” You casually reply, laying on the bed, watching him.

His eyes widen as he gestures at the various shapes and sizes in front of him. “You take all of this so well… and I think about you taking my cock and… holy shit, babe, that’s not easy.”

“Well… thank you, baby,” you chuckle. “But also, we probably won’t use anything similar to your cock for you just yet,” you wink.

And then it’s forgotten. Days pass without Calum bringing it up and you don’t feel like you should, since it’s something he instigated and you don’t want to make him feel pressured.

“It’s totally fine if you’ve changed your mind on the pegging thing,” you casually say one night, sitting on the kitchen counter while he loads the dishwasher. “I just want to make sure you’re not avoiding talking to me about it because you’re afraid to.”

“Hmm?” He looks up at you. “I guess I wasn’t sure how you felt about it,” he shrugs.

“I think it’d be fucking hot, Cal, but we’re not doing it for me,” you explain. “I’m not the one who needs to make the decision here. But for the record, if you want it, I’ll be happy to do it.”

“Well then,” he smirks. “I’m about done here. Let’s go look for some toys.”

Moments later, you’re on the couch; you sit on Cal’s lap and his computer sits on yours. You pull up a couple different sites and start filtering.

“OK, so what do you think about firmness?” He gives you a questioning look in response. You smile softly. “OK so my pink one and the like, kind of clear one? Those were super soft right?” He nods. “So we’re gonna want something firmer than that. But we probably don’t want anything too hard either.”

“Right, so like a medium then?” He reaches around you to reach the touchpad, scrolling the page. “Which of these do you use?”

“Mmm, don’t have toys for my ass.” You reach down and wrap your hand around his cock through his shorts. “Only this guy and the plugs we bought.”

“Someone’s frisky,” he comments, eyes turning back to the screen.

You filter the pages, pointing out a few options, clicking across a few different sites but still haven’t removed your hand from his crotch. He lets out a loud breath through his nose. “You OK baby?” You ask sweetly.

“Yeah, I’m great. Got a pretty girl on my lap, just barely giving me a hand job through my shorts, looking at cocks to fuck me with,” he shrugs. “All while we’re sat in the living room; just a normal day.”

“Oh, if the location is an issue, we can take this to the bedroom,” you offer with a laugh.

Calum shakes his head. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You turn and look him directly in the eye. “Well, I know one way you could find out for sure,” you lilt, spreading your legs a little.

“You act like I won’t,” he teases. He sticks his hand down the front of your shorts, slicking his fingers through your folds. He pulls his hand out and lifts his fingers to his mouth. “Yeah… we’re gonna wrap this up in the bedroom,” he announces.

He leads you to the bedroom and sits up on the bed, gesturing for you to sit up against him. You fit yourself in between his legs and pull the computer into your lap. “Let’s finish this up,” you murmur, looking back at him.

He agrees and you go back to searching, though every so often you shift your hips just so to hear him gasp. He points out some choices that he likes and you go find your soft tape measure to make sure he understands the girth of the cocks he’s picking. You instruct him to measure a few of your toys but “for reference” he pulls out his own cock to measure and that gets him distracted.

You see him stroking himself out of the corner of your eye but you try to stay focused on your search, opening a few more tabs to show him. You hear the familiar hiss that means he must’ve just thumbed over the head of his cock in a very particular way and you finally have to look up at him.

“What is this, hands on research?” You joke, taking a deep breath to steady yourself at the sight.

Cal grins, closing the laptop and setting it aside. He grabs your hips to bring you face to face with him. “Think that’s enough for today,” he says deeply, nipping at your neck. “I need you.”

“I mean, it seemed like you were doing OK on your own,” you breathe as you reach for his hard cock, lightly running your fingers up the shaft.

Suddenly his mouth is on yours, kissing you with an intensity you don’t quite recognize. Melting into the kiss, your hands race his as you rid each other of your clothing and within moments you’re sitting in his lap, positioned above him, teasing his cock with your wetness.

He’s torn between wanting to whine at your teasing and wanting to tease you for being just as affected by the situation as he was so he splits the difference and moans as he grabs your hips and thrusts up into you.

You start to ride Calum at a fairly steady pace but he’s clearly determined to get you both off and get you both off fast; his hands are seemingly glued to your hips and he bounces you up and down on his cock, meeting your every movement with his own.

Neither of you say anything, letting your noises speak for you. He only lets go of you when he sees you biting your lip as you try to find the right friction; he moves one hand to grab your ass and the other he slips between your legs to find your clit.

It only takes a couple minutes from there for you both to finish in a flurry of noises. He keeps you in his lap for a moment, as you both come down. “See, pegging is already doing wonders for our sex life,” he quietly jokes, kissing your face.

The next day, you come over after work; you let yourself in and find Calum on the bed, with the websites already pulled up for you to browse together.

“I’ve been doing some thinking,” he announces as you sit next to him.

“Thinking’s good,” you chirp, kissing his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder.

“I know we didn’t find exactly what I wanted but we were only looking in the dildo section, since we already bought you that badass harness you’re gonna look so hot in,” he excitedly rambles. “SO, out of curiosity, I clicked on some of their kits and I think they could work for us.”

He clicks through a number of tabs on his browser, searching for what he wants to show you and explaining his findings to you. You’re honestly impressed by the amount of research he’s done on his own; it makes you feel good to know he’s decided to take an active role in this process, it lets you know he’s serious about it. It also makes you irredeemably horny to know he’s been sitting here alone, spending what looks like a considerable amount of time contemplating what the perfect kind of cock is for you to fuck him with. You press your legs together and try to listen to what he’s saying.

“...It comes with different sizes so that gives us some leeway on that decision - they’re all cute colors, no balls. And it says they all have the flared base so we can use our harness instead of the one it comes with,” he reports, scrolling through the website’s pictures for you to see.

He’s right; the set he’s found ticks basically every box on your shopping list. You can see why it would catch his eye: it’s equal parts arousing and unintimidating, made for a beginner like him. “Cal, this looks great,” you enthuse, reaching over to add the set to your cart. “You’re better at this than even I am, I don’t think I’ve ever picked out a toy this fast.”

“I don’t know about that,” he preens a little at your praise. “I just clicked around and once I saw this one, I started picturing you with it and… I think it’s a good choice.” His voice catches slightly and he clears it, pointing to the moderately sized royal blue dildo.

Again, your entire body feels charged thinking about Calum thinking about you, wanting you like this. You begin pressing wet kisses along his jaw and he chuckles at your eagerness. “Got a couple other things I think we should shop for, pretty girl,” he smirks, seeing you pout in his periphery.

“Oh? Let me see,” you reply, moving to snatch the computer away from him. You giggle as Cal anticipates your move and sits it beside him on the bed so he can continue searching. You sit up on your knees and continue mouthing at his jaw, neck and ears, your hands lightly moving over his chest. You take note of the way his sweatpants are beginning to tent.

“Baby,” he breathes. “I wanna show you this set of plugs… might be a good idea… we didn’t go right into having you take my cock… worked up to it.” His breathing increases every few words and you know you’ve got him when you thumb over his hardened nipple through his shirt and he shudders.

You shake your hand under his shirt to give more direct attention to his nipples while sucking on his neck. “Yeah, Cal... plugs... sounds great,” you murmur.

“What’s got you so needy today, my love?” He chuckles, grabbing the back of your head for a proper kiss.

“Something about you taking such an interest here, making an effort to get it right... I appreciate it," you mumble against his lips before pulling him in for an even deeper kiss.

“Well. Something about you taking that kind of control... seeing you strapped up and wanting me that way...” He groans. “C’mere, darlin.”

He pulls you back onto his lap; you make out hungrily and it's just as intense as the day before but not as frantic. After a few moments, your shirts are discarded and you start slightly grinding in his lap. Cal grips tight onto your hips, pulling you down a little harder.

“Have you ever experimented before?” You ask, pulling your face away from his to gauge the answer.

Getting him to share isn't always easy so you don't expect him to answer so breezily. "Always wondered what it'd be like, dipped a finger back there a couple times but never really pushed in," he shrugs. "Felt kind of silly doing it myself. And I couldn’t ever imagine someone doing it for me until now." He smiles softly, eyes shining.

Your heart flutters at his honesty. “Should we give it a go then?” You quirk an eyebrow, smiling as well. You feel him tense for a second and you thread your fingers in his hair. “I mean, we should start trying at some point, but we can take it slow,” you explain. He stays quiet and you reassure him, “We don’t have to do this yet if you’re not ready.”

He studies your face for a second and breathes deep. "I want to… think I’m just kind of wrapping my head around it," he admits, furrowing his brow.

You melt at his conflicted expression and kiss him tenderly. "Hey, you don't have to worry, we're in this together, you know?" He nods firmly at your encouragement. "Good... luckily I know by now how to get you to relax," you tease as you kiss down his chest, palming him through his sweatpants.

He lets out a breath through his nose. “Baby.” He’s grinning, you can hear it even with your eyes closed.

You let his cock spring free and you softly kiss the tip before pulling his pants all the way off.

“You trust me, baby boy?” You ask, tugging at the band of his pants.

Cal lifts his hips. “Of course,” he offers without hesitation.

“OK. I’m gonna try something, alright?” You warn, coming back up to pay special attention to his cock.

You hear him murmur his consent as you lick up and down the sides of him and then sink your mouth down, bobbing just enough to get him nice and covered in spit. You pull off and check his face, which is watching you, fascinated; he raises his eyebrows in anticipation for what's to come, given your announcement.

You wrap your hand around his length, slowly tugging it as you mouth his balls. You gently rub your hand up and down the back of his thigh before pushing it up and very gently kissing your way down further. You gently lick over his puckered hole and wait to see how he reacts.

You hear a sharp intake of breath which you expect, what you don't expect is the way he slightly scoots his ass down closer to you. You move your tongue against his opening again, this time adding a couple swirling motions, which earn you some low groans.

You grin to yourself and repeat the action. He wraps his hand around the back of his leg, lifting it for you so you can focus your attention where he really wants it. Calum may be ready for this after all.

There’s a whimper that escapes his lips that lets you know he’s enjoying this more than he was letting on. “Tongue,” is all he says. “So good...”

You let go of his cock and slide both hands up the back of his thighs, pushing them closer to his chest.

“So pretty, babe,” you coo. He’s had you like this many times before and you can see why he likes it, the vulnerability it forces you to share. “Touch your cock,” you direct, going back to tend to his hole.

He seems entranced by the way you're making him feel, a seemingly never-ending gravelly whine pouring from his throat. After a few more flicks of your tongue, you pull back and notice his hands remain clenched at his sides.

"Cal, baby," you lightly tap his thigh. "Stroke yourself for me, handsome, I know you need it."

Calum breaks out of his daze at the sound of your voice and pulls his cock away from his stomach, where it's been laying there leaking.

You go back to work and he wraps a hand around himself; he manages two or three tugs before he lets out a guttural moan and immediately drops his cock again. "Babe... touching feels too good... don't wanna cum yet, want you to keep going," he pants.

“Oh... I’ve got a needy baby boy, huh?” You tease. You let go of his thigh and reach for his abandoned cock, lightly teasing your fingertips over it while you lap at his entrance.

You feel him relax a bit so you start to tease the tip of your tongue inside him, partly for him but mostly so you can hear his neediest whines yet.

Cal whimpers as you cup his balls and run your finger lightly on the underside of his shaft. You can see the precum pooling on his stomach.

He’s mumbling with that rasp that his voice gets only when he's feeling truly wrecked. You place a few sloppy wet kisses to that space between his hole and his balls and he shouts as his whole body jumps.

You pull back to admire him in his debauched state and the cry that leaves his lips confirms what bad shape he’s in. He lets out a breathy, “Baby, why?” followed by a begging, “Please don’t stop.”

“Just wasn’t sure if you were enjoying it,” you tease, diving back in with more enthusiasm and determination than before.

You keep one hand lightly massaging his base and it only takes a few more licks over his opening for you to feel him twitch in your grasp and to hear him groaning. His orgasm is absolutely obscene; his cock spurts rope after rope of cum over his torso, as he whines desperately, still pushing his body closer to you, urging you to keep going.

You give him what he wants and keep flicking your tongue against him over and over with the occasional dip inside until you feel him start to settle down. You move your kisses to his thighs and look up at him again.

"Cal?" You check on him.

His eyes are still screwed shut, his hand now tight around his cock, squeezing the last few drops of cum from his tip. “I’m good baby... so fuckin’ good,” he sighs. His other hand reaches out to you and his body relaxes completely. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him so wrecked and it makes you want to do this for him even more.

You take his hand and grasp it tightly, coming up to gently stroke his lightly sweat-covered face with your other hand. "Did so good for me, bub, holy shit," you compliment him. "So hot seeing you like that, I could definitely get used to this."

He kisses your hand and then looks down at his cum covered body. “I think I could too,” he laughs euphorically.

The weekend comes and Cal lets himself into your place, as he always does; Duke comes scampering in too.

“Hi love!” You greet the dog, leaning over to pet him.

Cal grins, watching you with Duke.

“Hiya, other love.” You wrap your arms around his neck and stand on your toes to kiss him. “Listen… I went ahead and bought those toys you showed me,” you say nonchalantly as you pull away.

“Oh? Good... I forgot,” he says sheepishly.

“Look, I haven’t been dating you for this long not to assume you wouldn’t remember after we got high and you buried your face in between my thighs like I was your last meal,” you tease, tapping his shoulder.

“And I’d do it again,” he smirks. “Especially... like… I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about your tongue every day we did that.”

“Oh? Enjoyable for you, handsome?” You chuckle.

“I mean, judging by the amount of cum you cleaned off my stomach, I'd have to say yes,” he says with wide eyes, pulling you back in to him.

It’s only a matter of time before you’re back in the bedroom. Your panties stay on but Calum is completely naked, on his back and holding his thighs up for you again. His breathing is heavy and he’s whimpering as your tongue dances over his hole.

You pull back and peer over at him. “Cal… do you wanna try something?” You ask.

“Yeah, baby, anything you want,” he rushes out.

“Babe, this is about you,” you point out patiently.

“I know… you’re right… I want it, I want it.” It’s almost panicked the way he’s whining.

You run your hands along the sides of his thighs soothingly. You reach over for the small bottle of lube you’d tucked under one of your pillows just in case and coat your fingers with it. You wrap your hand around his cock and slowly touch him, knowing he might need the distraction and then you gently tease a finger against his hole, swirling it, causing him to gasp. You wait until he relaxes and then you squeeze his shaft as you slowly start to push your finger in.

Cal lets out a breathy “Oh” like you’ve never heard and you press a kiss to his leg as you push in a little further. You continue slowly like this for a minute until his breath sputters and you feel him tightening around your finger. You pause and start to pull back but then he emits a deep “Keep going” that you can’t disagree with.

You push your finger in slowly past the resistance and then gently start moving around, looking for that one spot; you’ve done your research so you would know what to expect and what you were looking for.

He practically pries your hand off his cock. “Can’t,” he whines, desperate.

“OK, handsome,” you murmur. You kiss along his thighs and wrap your free hand around one. You work your finger a bit more, watching his body react. When he starts moving back against you, you ask, “Want another?”

“Mmm hmm,” he nods frantically, eyes closed.

You slick a bit more lube onto your second finger and start to work it in as well. “Doing so good for me, baby,” you sigh. You didn’t realize how worked up you had gotten until you hear how breathy your voice comes out. “This is so fucking hot, Cal.”

“Oh god, baby,” he cries, voice straining as your two digits move inside him. You look up at him and he’s looking right back; it’s one of the more intense moments you two have shared. He drops his head to the pillows and you watch his back arch and a slew of curse words spill from his lips. “Right. There,” he huffs.

You gently bite his thigh. “Want to see you cum for me, baby,” you coo, confident in your movements. Almost immediately, his sounds become even breathier and whinier and you see his hand fly to grasp his cock as the cum starts spurting. “There you go, baby boy,” you praise as he desperately bucks his hips. “So good, handsome.”

You pull your fingers out and Calum lays panting for a while, dazed. You press a kiss to each of his knees and move to start cleaning up. His eyes are shut but he feels you moving around the room and he reaches out to touch your arm. “I love you, baby,” he quietly rasps.

The next morning, Cal gets up just after dawn to take Duke out and never returns to bed. You find him at your kitchen table, eating a bowl of oatmeal and writing in his journal.

“Morning, bub,” you yawn, kissing the top of his head as you pass by to make yourself some breakfast. "I was thinking if it's nice out, we might take Duke to the park today?"

He gets up and takes his bowl to the sink. “Oh, uh… I was actually thinking I’d head out pretty soon,” he says apologetically. “I’ve been busy so the house is kind of a mess… there’s actually a lot I should take care of.”

“Oh. OK, yeah,” you shrug. You’re slightly surprised, you thought you were spending the day together but it’s not unlike Cal for him to put vital tasks until the last minute. “Maybe next week.”

The next few days follow a similar pattern. You ask Calum if he wants to grab dinner, he already has plans. He’s “swamped” and has to postpone your movie night. There’s still a “Good morning, pretty girl” text waiting for you when you wake up every day and a “Good night, my love” text that chimes every night when you’re brushing your teeth so you’re not too worried but you can tell something is off.

You get an email that your toy order has shipped and you send a screenshot to Cal, accompanied by the eggplant and dripping emojis. It takes him a while to reply, which is typical, but when he finally does, all you get back is “lol.” You frown. You don’t know how you expected him to respond but it was definitely not “lol.”

Your understanding of the situation starts becoming a bit clearer when you scroll up through your text thread and see that every time you’ve brought up your recent encounters, he’s either changed the subject or given an extremely short, vague response. You exhale slowly. You’re going to have to talk to him.

A hike is the least confrontational activity you can think to suggest and he agrees to meet you at your usual spot with Duke later that afternoon. They find you in the parking lot and you kneel down to show the small dog some love before you give your boyfriend a peck on the cheek.

As you’d hoped, you basically have the trail to yourselves; you walk for a bit, chatting easily about everyday things. You stop for a quick break and you decide to take a deep breath and go for it. “Kinda wanted to talk to you about something, bubba,” you start, hoping you don’t sound as uneasy as you feel.

Cal sits on a nearby bench and scoops Duke up to sit beside him. He doesn’t say anything, just looks at you, brow furrowed, dark eyes squinting in that way he does when he’s really concentrating on what you’re saying.

You sit next to them; you want to look him in the eyes but you’re weirdly nervous so you focus on petting the sweet dog who is also patiently waiting for you to make your case. “I feel like… and I could be totally wrong and please tell me if I am… but I feel like maybe you’ve been avoiding seeing me after you know… the last night we spent together,” you try to put it as delicately as possible. “And it’s fine if you didn’t like it and it’s fine if you want to stop trying the things we’ve been trying but… I need you to talk to me about it, Cal. I shouldn’t have to guess here and I’m feeling really shut out.”

He’s quiet for a minute but you know he’s going to take his time weighing his words and making sure he expresses himself clearly. Finally he quietly says, “You’re right.”

There’s another pause and you hope to ease his mind by cracking, “That’s a good start, babe, but I’m gonna need a little more.”

Calum shakes his head fondly, waits a beat, then lets it all out, both slow and rushed as only he can. “I guess I just didn’t expect… I don’t know, baby, we’ve been together a while and we’ve done a lot of shit but that’s the closest to you I’ve ever felt. Which is good like… I want that. But I just felt really… exposed?” He stares off down the trail for a few seconds, gathering his thoughts. “I’ve just never felt need like that before and I don’t think I was prepared for how it would feel to let you see me like that.”

It takes a minute for him to feel like he can meet your eyes and you can’t help but think it’s for the best, as yours are brimming with tears. You feel so deeply for him in this moment and the love you have for him overwhelms you.

“Baby,” you whisper, reaching your hand over the bench to squeeze his shoulder. “That’s a lot. And I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t talk to me? You didn’t have to deal with all that alone.”

“A bit hard to be open with someone about being embarrassed you were open with them,” he points out with a shrug.

“But Cal, that’s just it! There’s no reason to feel embarrassed, you know there’s no judgement between us, especially in bed,” you firmly insist. “And if you are feeling weird about anything, I need to know. The only way we can continue this is if you talk to me, babe, that’s just the way it’s gotta be.”

Calum nods quietly and sits Duke on his lap so he can pull you closer, placing his arm around you. You rest your head on his shoulder and say, “You have to trust me with this, bub. I’m not gonna feel comfortable doing this unless I know you can communicate with me. How can I be sure you’ll tell me if something doesn’t feel right physically if you feel awkward even telling me that your feelings are off, baby?”

He squeezes your arm. “I can do that,” he promises. “I also think I was a little afraid to make you feel bad about it. I really did like it. And I could tell you did too. It was just the after I had trouble processing.”

You lift your head up and gently turn his face to look at you. “I’ll make you a deal,” you state. “I can definitely step up my aftercare game for you. But for me, Cal, I need once and for all you to understand that this isn’t about me. I know it goes against your instincts and I love that about you but we’re doing this for your pleasure and that’s all that matters to me.”

“Deal. Although… I’m still gonna give you one hell of an orgasm when you do this for me… there’s no talking me out of that,” he smirks, lightening the mood.

You text him later that week to let him know the toys have arrived and his face immediately flashes on your screen.

“Should we get out of town?” He asks.

“We can do whatever you think is gonna be most comfortable for you, bubba,” you affirm. “I figured you’d want to do it at your place because it’s familiar territory and it’s going to be such an unfamiliar experience…”

“I know I agreed that technically this is for me but... I still feel like it’s about us…” He thinks out loud. “I dunno, part of me wants to take you away on this big romantic adventure so we can be alone together. No outside world, just our bubble.”

“I love you, baby. Whatever you want,” you say softly.

And so it’s settled. The next afternoon Calum is waiting for you on your couch when you get home from your half-day at work. He’s already packed a bag for you and he’s raring to go.

You head into your room to change and decide to check what he packed for you. You unzip the bag and to your surprise, it appears he’s thought of just about everything, including his favorite lingerie for you. The harness, the dildo set and the plugs are all accounted for and he’d even remembered your travel bag from the bathroom. You smile at his effort and head back out to him.

“Great pack job, baby, I’m all set!” You toss the bag by the door excitedly.

He grabs your hand as you walk to the door and for some reason it goes straight to your core; you’re not travelling far but you realize the drive is about to feel that much longer.

You haven’t been in the car very long when Cal starts noticing how touchy you’re being with him and about halfway through the trip, he decides to ask. “What’s with you, baby?” He asks, playfully nudging your knee.

“Nothing,” you tease. “I’m just excited! Time alone together? This is rare.”

He glances over at you and gives you a look. “You sure that’s it? Because the way you’re squeezing your thighs tells me you're excited in another way.”

“Honestly, Cal... I’d give anything to ride your face right about now,” you boldly admit and give a cheeky grin when you see his face twitch at your words.

He groans, “The absolute death of me.” Shaking his head, he quietly commands, “Undo your shorts.” You do him one better and push your shorts to the floor.

“Can’t get my mouth right now, but I’m sure my fingers will do,” he mumbles as he very quickly pushes your panties out of the way and slicks his fingers through your folds. “Oh... pretty girl,” he murmurs, pulling his fingers away to suck them into his mouth. You turn your body toward him, resting your back against the door and pulling one leg into the seat with you.

Cal steals a glance and his thumb presses to your clit, causing you to moan.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet, you naughty girl,” he teases, nudging his pointer finger inside you. “Is this how you’re gonna be all weekend?”

“Probably,” you shrug nonchalantly.

“Good,” he responds smugly. “I knew getting away would be the right choice.”

He pushes two fingers in and you grip the seat, letting out a little noise of approval. “Please, Cal!”

He knows he can’t take his eyes off the road no matter how badly he wants to look at you, so he turns down the radio so he can listen to your moans and let his imagination fill in the rest. You resituate and tilt your hips up toward him more. “Rub your clit, baby… want you to cum for me,” he growls.

You bite your lip and do as you’re asked. You moan loudly as he pushes in a third finger and his eyes somehow remain on the road. You let out a little gasp.

Calum can’t help but steal a glance. “Mmm, my pretty girl’s pretty pussy,” he licks his lips. “You’re so close, baby, I feel you squeezin’ my fingers.”

You grab onto his wrist with your free hand as his fingers continue to pump in and out of you. Your head lulls back against the window and he makes quick work of finishing you. “Yes, baby, so hot when you cum for me,” he praises.

He withdraws his fingers once you stop throbbing around them and he lifts his index finger to your lips for you to suck clean; he goes on to suck the other two.

You sit, still exposed to him, catching your breath and you eye his hard on. “Don’t even think about it, darlin’,” he warns, keeping focused on the road. “I can practically read your mind and you’re basically salivating.”

“Can’t help it if I wanna suck you off…” You say breathily, hand dancing up his thigh. “You just made me cum… makes me wanna make you cum… you knew what to expect.”

“And now I expect you to keep your hands to yourself till we get there. Just a little bit further baby,” he promises.

You huffingly adjust your clothes and see him smirking out of the corner of your eye. But he’s right and it’s not long before you’ve made it to the hotel and checked into your room. The energy between you is wild; comfortable but nervous, familiar yet unknown. You find things to do to busy yourself, knowing it’d be ridiculous for you to immediately jump into bed. Cal connects his phone to the room’s sound system to play some music, hoping to ease the tension as you both unpack

The music helps and you go from humming along to the music to singing to being goofily spun around the room by him within minutes. After a few songs, the only bag left unopened is the one containing all your toys and you stare at it for a beat.

He notices your hesitation and comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. “Let’s leave it for now, baby.” He nuzzles into your neck. “Sitting in the car all that time got me craving a hot shower, come join me.”

The shower (and inevitable shower sex) helps you both relax and when you’re back in the bedroom getting dressed afterwards, you bound over to the bag left on the bed.

“This is silly. Why am I nervous now that we’re here? Do you feel nervous?” You babble as you sit on the bed, unzipping the bag and dumping it out next to you.

Cal smiles to himself and sits down next to you. He soothingly rubs a hand over your back and with the other he picks up one of the dildos, examining it. “Nah, I’m quite looking forward to getting to know our new friends,” he says lightly. He sits it down and leans in closer to you. “It’s gonna be so good, darlin’. Can’t wait for you to fill me up,” he rasps.

You suck in a breath and capture his lips in an eager kiss that’s somehow both comforting and thrilling. “I don’t know if that qualifies as a pep talk but thanks, bub,” you laugh against his skin.

The rest of the day seems to fly by; you and Calum decide over drinks that it’d probably be best to ease into things and just try out the plugs for your first night. He insists on eating you out before you even think about touching him and by the time he makes you cum, he’s whining against you.

You’re not sure what you were expecting but the plug experience goes off without a hitch. You think to yourself that you’ll never tire of seeing him spread himself for you, never tire of hearing the new type of moans he’s been letting out since you started this journey.

It doesn’t take Cal very long to get used to the smallest plug in the set and you’re surprised when he asks you if you’ll switch to the next size up. He must’ve noticed your reaction because he tells you that the past few times he’s jerked off, he’s also fingered himself, thinking about your upcoming plans. That admission leaves you throbbing and Cal has to get you off again before either of you turn in for the night.

The next morning, you awaken to the feeling of light kisses being pressed along the back of your neck and Cal pressing himself his hardening cock into your backside, warm hands rubbing over your thighs. “Morning, pretty girl,” he says with a crack, his voice not as awake as the rest of him. “Think it’s time, baby.”

It takes a few seconds for his meaning to land. “OH,” you turn and look at him with wide eyes. “Is it? Like right now? First thing in the morning?”

“Don’t wanna wait any longer, want you now,” he murmurs, kissing over your face.

You indulge him for a second before pulling back and asking, "What time even is it? It feels early."

Calum hovers over you, nibbling at your ear. "Doesn't matter, babe. Sun's out, it's a beautiful day and it's fuckin' time," he enthuses.

There's a beat as his words register with the both of you and you clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle a snort. He grins at you. "I meant that like for emphasis, like ‘It's fuckin’ time' not like I'm calling sex Fuckin’ Time," he laughs loudly, shoulders shaking the further he gets into his defense.

You cackle, tears running out of your eyes. You tease, "What does it say about me that I still want you after hearing that come out of your mouth?"

He shakes his head, breath coming out in wheezes. "You must really have it bad for me, I guess," he shrugs, eyes sparkling.

"Something like that," you giggle, drawing him in for a kiss. You nip at his mouth as you pull away. "Now, let's get what we need, baby. It's Fuckin' Time."

He hops in the shower while you evaluate the lingerie he packed for you and decide what he'd like best. You get out your gear and think to yourself how glad you are that you watched a video online about how to properly fit the harness for your body; you're so excited you're not sure you'd be able to figure it out on your own otherwise.

By the time Calum's out of the shower, you're admiring your reflection in the mirror above the dresser; you could always count on him to pick out underwear that both accentuated the things he loves most about you and made you feel great. Your hand wraps around the synthetic cock jutting proudly from your crotch; you give it a light squeeze and marvel at how the silicone is such a familiar feeling but feeling the weight of it attached to you, seeing it as part of you, knowing what you're about to do with it? All new feelings, equally jarring and thrilling.

You hear a sharp intake of breath behind you and turn to see Cal, clad only in his grey sweatpants. He walks over, eyes never wavering from you and takes your hand to spin you around so he can fully appreciate you. He lets out a soft whistle. “Gorgeous,” he praises, eyes travelling over you and landing on the royal blue dildo he chose. “A pretty cock for my pretty girl.”

He pulls you in to kiss you and you giggle against his lips as you feel him shifting, trying to find a comfortable place to situate your protruding appendage. “Is this what you have to deal with with me, baby? Jesus,” he laughs at the awkward dance.

You shrug. “I’d say it’s worth it,” you say flirtatiously as you reach down to palm him, raising an eyebrow when you feel him soft.

He runs a hand over the back of his neck like he does when he gets bashful. “I, uh, might’ve pre-gamed a little in the shower. I wanted to be sure I could make this last,” he discloses.

You smile and peck his lips. “Good boy,” you coo.

Cal steps back and eyes you for a second. “You’re feelin’ yourself, aren’t you, baby?” He grins at you.

You bite your lip and turn back to your reflection and you find yourself wrapping a hand around the dildo once again. “Actually, I kind of am,” you state with a nod.

He kisses your shoulder. “I’m feelin’ you too... now let me get you off so we can get to Fuckin’ Time,” he jokes.

You giggle as he leads you to the bed. "Always such a way with words," you tease.

Calum attempts to lay you down with him but you hold a hand up, signaling you need a moment. You reach over to the bedside table, where you’d ended up unpacking your toys, and come back up with lube and the plug he liked the night before.

“We should probably start with prepping you, handsome,” you suggest gently.

He nods in agreement and lifts up to strip off his sweatpants. He holds his knees for you, like he’s done so many times now, and waits to feel the chill of the lube against his entrance. He gasps sharply when he feels your tongue briefly brush against him instead.

“Sorry, baby boy, couldn’t help myself,” you chuckle, pressing a kiss to his inner thigh. He ends up taking the plug with even less resistance than the previous session and he beams as the praise flows from your lips.

You lay beside him and sigh as he moves above you, kissing along your neck and the tops of your breasts, murmuring about how pretty they look in the bra he picked out. You expect him to make his way in between your legs but he pulls back before he makes it there. "Think I'm gonna need you on my face, love."

You let out an excited hum as Cal gets situated next to you and squeal as he grabs you and pulls you over to straddle his face. “I knew you’d look incredible in this, baby,” he murmurs, nibbling your thigh, fingers tracing over the lace of the harness before teasing over your wetness, thanks to the crotchless center. “And anything with this type of access is A+ in my book.”

"Well, you're a man with exquisite taste," you compliment playfully.

You gasp as he licks a fat stripe up your center. "Mmm, talk about exquisite taste, darlin’,” he laughs huskily.

The lighthearted moment is short-lived as he quickly gets down to business licking you. His tongue dances along your folds, occasionally dipping inside your entrance teasingly. It always takes you a minute to feel comfortable grinding on his face but once you start rocking your hips, you're unable to stop and he grips your thighs to steady you.

“Slow down, baby, I’ve never let you down,” he murmurs. He presses up on your thighs to make room for him to push two fingers inside you.

“God, Calum.” You moan, looking down at him, tangling your fingers in his hair. “So fucking good.”

He withdraws his fingers in favor of licking up into you and you feel your eyes widen as you watch him reach up to grab the dildo and begin stroking it. You groan loudly, feeling yourself become even more turned on than you thought possible as you watch his hand move over the silicone as his mouth pleasures your pussy.

"Like how my cock feels in your hand, baby? Do you like jerking me off?" You tease, arousal emboldening you. "If it feels this good to you now, just think how much better it's gonna feel inside you."

Cal grunts into you and you swear you could cum just from that sound alone. His hand works quickly over the toy as he wraps his other around your thigh, pulling you down on his face. With his nose lightly nudging your clit, you can’t help yourself and start grinding on his face again.

“Get it, baby,” he moans. “Can’t wait to feel you in me.”

He sucks your clit in between his lips and your legs shake around his face. He releases it in favor of flicking his tongue and then lifts you up a bit, kissing along your lips as he catches his breath.

"Somethin' about seeing you like this," he breathes. "I don't know, pretty girl, it's already more than I dreamt of."

You murmur in response and he brings you back down onto his mouth. "Now I need you to cum for me."

You grip tightly into his hair, encouraging his skilled tongue to finish you off. “Oh fuuuuuuuck,” you moan loudly, leaning forward into the headboard as you cum. Cal takes his time licking around you, letting you enjoy the come down.

“Jesus Christ,” he groans, lifting you off his face. You land next to him and he sits up, immediately pulling you into a sloppy kiss. “Need you,” he states plainly, reaching for the lube and placing it in your hand. “Please, I can’t wait,” he urges.

You let out a loud breath, pleased by his eagerness. You start slicking the lube over your strap-on; Cal hurriedly lays back down on the bed; his chest rises and falls rapidly, you can tell he's both excited and nervous and you recognize that the look on his face is the one he makes when he's trying desperately not to touch himself.

You lean down and kiss him sweetly, hoping to calm him a bit. "Do you feel ready for me, baby?" You move down his body and lightly run your fingertips over his cock, playing with the precum that's sliding down the shaft as you check on the plug that's been filling him. "You take this one so well, Cal. Think you're nice and open for me."

He lets out a shaky breath, reaching to hold onto your hips for a second. “Baby,” he says quietly as you gently pull at the plug, pulling it to the widest part and letting it slide back into him.

“I’m serious, Cal, wish you could see how well you take it,” you praise, watching in amazement. “You gonna be this good for my cock? I know you want to, don’t you, baby boy?” You tease, digging your nails into his thigh.

He whimpers slightly and you watch as he attempts to collect himself, cock already twitching with anticipation, leaking onto his stomach. "Pretty girl, I'm gonna need that pretty cock in me as soon as you can, don't think I can wait much longer," he rasps

“Oh, I think you could,” you tease. “But I won’t make you.” You pull the plug out, gently squeezing his balls in your other hand. “The idea of you letting me have you like this is so hot...” You trail off as he shudders underneath you; you assume it’s from the coolness of the lube you’re rubbing over him but you suspect it partly has to do with your words as well.

You grab your cock and line yourself up, pushing the tip against his hole. “OK, Cal, remember to talk to me,” you whisper, rubbing your hands reassuringly on his thighs. You make eye contact with him as you start to push into him at an achingly slow pace, watching his face, making sure everything’s OK.

You see him puff out his cheeks and exhale slowly a couple times, trying to decipher how he feels about your intrusion. You slowly continue until you meet that resistance and you pause before going any further. "Relax, baby," you soothe. "We’ll go as slow as you need, I promise."

You start to pull out slightly and his eyes widen as he involuntarily lets out a loud moan. You halt your movements again and wait. "That was actually a good sound," he chuckles, squeezing your hand on his thigh. "It's just. Feels fuller than before. But good. Just different." He rambles, sorting through his racing thoughts.

You squeeze his hand back and smile at him. He breathes deep. "We can keep going, just slow like this," he nods to himself. "And maybe some more lube?"

“Of course, Cal, yes, this is perfect,” you enthuse. “Tell me what you want, just like we talked about. That’s what’s gonna make this good for both of us.” You encourage excitedly, working more lube onto your toy.

You feel like kissing him; you think he wants it, maybe even needs it. But you know you can’t lean in to do so, you’d push in too quickly, so you settle for kissing his knee.

He squeezes your hand again, “A little further, love,” he requests.

You do as he asks and you see him wince briefly so you back up. This decision is met with a whimper. “No, baby, in. I’m good, I promise,” he states firmly.

You take a deep breath to steady yourself and reach to play with his cock a little, hoping to give him both some relief and some distraction. He licks his lips and relaxes into your touch, allowing you to inch the toy in a bit more. "Doing so good, Cal," you comment softly.

You watch his chest breathe in and out, timing it with the slight rocking of your hips to help you enter him more and more. Calum wraps his hand around yours, helping you stroke your hand over him.

“Oh fuck.” He moans, squeezing your hand around his cock. “Like that,” he pants.

Your tactic works and he gets so caught up in the feeling of your joint efforts jerking him off that he doesn't notice you've finally worked the dildo inside him entirely. "God, Cal," you groan at the realization. "How does it feel knowing I'm buried inside you, baby?"

He shudders at your words. “Buried?” He asks, making sure he heard right. He feels you pressed all the way against him and groans. “Oh my god, baby… fuck.” He gently tugs on you, pulling you down to him. “I’m so happy we’re doing this,” he murmurs, kissing you.

You move back to a kneeling position and gently pull your hips back; when you slowly push forward again, his mouth drops completely open and the only thing that comes out are little breathy sounds.

You feel yourself throbbing again, this is already much more intense than you anticipated. Calum's eyes are squeezed shut but you're confident if they were open, they would be glassy. "Baby boy," you warmly coo, slowly rocking your hips. "Let me see you stroke your cock, handsome."

His eyes open and he blinks rapidly, eyes focusing on you working above him. Your words finally register and his hand travels down, wrapping around his cock. "Feels so good," he murmurs, fighting the urge to speed up his hand. "Want more, baby, please give me more."

You slightly pick up the pace and mild discomfort flashes across his face but it’s quickly replaced with pleasure. You lean in and press kisses across his chest, covering the tattoos there.

“Mmm, more baby…” Calum pants, squeezing the head of his cock. “Can you... please… faster?”

You oblige and he lets out a loud whimper quickly followed by a guttural moan when you accidentally change the direction your hips hit.

“Right there... right there, GOD, right fucking there,” he chants, letting go of his cock in favor of grabbing you to help you find that spot again.

His moans go straight to your core and you feel arousal start to drip down your thighs. You can't believe how hot it is seeing him like this, witnessing him give himself over to you like this and let his guard down, telling you what he needs from you. "Makes me feel so good to give you what you want, baby," you admit in a whinier tone than you intend. "Just want my cock to please you like yours pleases me."

“It’s fucking perfect,” he chokes out.

The two of you manage to find that magic spot again and your hips hit it relentlessly once you do. Calum is breathing heavier than you’ve ever heard before and when you tease a finger down his precum soaked shaft, he yelps. “You wanna cum for me, baby boy?”

"Don’t want this to end," he confesses, voice faltering in that way you know means he's at the point of no return. "You're just fucking me so good, baby." His voice catches at the end of his sentence and he groans deep and loud as his cock starts to twitch; his hand flies towards it as the pulsing intensifies, cum shooting out in wild, strong spurts along his torso, some reaching as high as his chest tattoos. His moans seem to go on forever, as does his orgasm; you continue to drive your hips into him through it, marveling at the intensity of his release as he pumps the last drops out.

He grabs your hips when it becomes too much and you slowly pull back and out of him. “Holy fuck, baby.” He breathes in disbelief. “You... you fucked me good.”

You grin and move beside him, fingers dragging through the cum covering his chest; you lean forward to lick at the ropes decorating his tattoos and he threads his fingers in your hair, gazing at you adoringly. “How're you?” He asks, caressing your cheek.

“I loved it. But… honestly, I’m dripping, Cal,” you confess, sitting back up. “I knew that was going to be intense but like… fuck.”

He notices the sheen of wetness on your thighs and reaches out, arm heavy with exhaustion, to caress your leg. "What can we do for you, love? Anything you want, you deserve it."

You lean down to kiss him. "I feel like your mouth is making promises the rest of you can't keep, baby boy." You chuckle against his lips. "I have an idea but first help me out of this harness, I wanna be naked with you."

He helps you out of both the harness and your bra and then pulls you against his body. You put one of your legs between his and start to rock your hips against it, looking up at him for another kiss.

He nibbles at your lips before kissing them, sighing into your mouth as he feels your wetness spread on his leg. "Tell me what you need, love, want you to feel as good as I do right now."

You bite your lip and shift yourself off him, leaning over to the bedside table. "At first I thought it might've been a mistake that you packed my plug along with the set we got for you," you start, retrieving the toy and reaching for the lube. "But now I'm thinking you may be the smartest man alive."

Cal smiles broadly as he watches you slick it up and then reach behind you and start spreading some lube around your tight hole. "I know you, baby, thought you might get jealous seeing me stretched out like that," he teases.

“You do know me,” you affirm with a smirk. “Help me?” You ask, handing him the lubed plug.

He grins cheekily at you and captures you in another kiss as he works the plug in; he pushes it in a bit and then pulls it back out, making sure you feel all the stretch he knows you love.

You groan at the sensation and Cal plays with you a little more, enjoying your sounds and the way your hips are moving. "Babyyyy..." you whine and he relents, pushing the plug inside you fully and giving your ass a light tap.

"You want something else, darlin'?" He asks sweetly, reaching towards the drawer again. "Brought your vibe too. Or we've got the other dildos from my set we didn't need."

“So thoughtful, such a gentleman,” you tease, gesturing towards your small bullet vibrator. He clicks it on and starts teasing it against your clit.

You bite your lip and groan. “You’ve earned this, baby,” he declares, watching intently as you take the toy from him and start moving it on yourself.

You got so worked up from fucking him that it only takes a few minutes before you're close. "Gonna cum," you announce to no one in particular.

Calum watches as you hold the vibe against your clit waiting to fall over the edge. He moves his hand from your chest, where he'd been gently playing with your nipples, down between your thighs and plunges two fingers inside you, moving them carefully so as not to upset the position of the vibe.

“Fuck, Cal,” you moan, hips bucking against the vibe, pussy clenching around his fingers. He works you through your orgasm, encouraging you to ride his fingers and switching out the vibe on your clit for his thumb when he can tell it’s become too much.

He withdraws his fingers from you and licks them clean as you flop face down onto the bed next to him. He chuckles and runs his other hand through your hair and down your back as you come down. “You can’t possibly be more worn out than I am, pretty girl.”

You shift your head to face him. “I don’t know, baby… having you like that… kind of the hottest thing I’ve ever seen or done in my life,” you tease, eyes and voice dreamy with exhaustion.

“Well… letting you have me like that was the hottest thing I’ve ever done or seen, so I guess it’s a draw,” he responds, kissing your face as he gently removes the plug from your ass.

You curl into each other and it’s quiet for a few moments as you both take in what you just experienced. “Thank you for asking me to do this for you,” you breathe, breaking the silence. “It feels good to know you trust me like this.”

Calum kisses the top of your head. “Can’t think of a thing I wouldn’t trust you with, darlin’,” he says thoughtfully. “I love you.”

You murmur, “Love you too, baby boy.” You peck his chest and sit up, pulling on his arm. “Let’s get cleaned up and then it’s Fuckin’ Nap Time.”

He lets out of a huff of a laugh, allowing you to pull him out of bed with you. “I’m never gonna live down Fuckin’ Time, am I?”

“Think you’re just gonna have to embrace that one, bub, I’m not letting it go,” you giggle as you pull him towards the shower. “But don’t worry, I can guarantee you’re gonna be hearing that phrase a lot this weekend, you’ll have time to embrace it.”

---------------

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kyoomiii · 4 years ago

Text

♡ Burnt out [hcs]

- ➣. . . ❝ Could you maybe do headcanons for literally any Haikyuu character/characters with an s/o who's just done with everything and exausted and feels like shit?❤ If that makes sense😂 Again I completely understand if you don't want to do this request!❤ ❞

― requested by: @bitweird1 ―

- ✎ characters ❝ daichi, kuroo, and tsukishima ❞

- [ trigger warning(s): none ]

- ⚘ genre ❝ fluff, angst ❞

❝ i’m so excited~ this is my first request! but anyway, putting that aside i hope that all of you out there are doing well and if times are currently difficult for you, just know that there’s someone rooting for you. i’m not particularly good with words- which is ironic for someone who writes, but, i hope you can feel my support through this hc~ ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ ❞

-kyo ♡

Life is always moving, it passes and waits for no one. And lately, as the school year draws to a close with tests upon tests cluttering your life, it’s been feeling like the days have merged into one, passing and passing with each one feeling exactly like the last.

As of tonight, you find that you’ve had enough... Unable to cope much longer on your own in the dark confinements of your room.

Instead, you find yourself at his house- 12am on a school night. And though it seemed like a good idea at the time, the feeling of guilt seems to bloom in your chest the longer you stare at the doorbell.

You knew from the beginning that Daichi is a busy man, the volleyball club, and his schoolwork, both something that he invests so much time and effort into, so surely he doesn’t have the time to deal with someone else’s problems, and with the little amount of sleep he does get, you feel bad stealing these precious hours away from him.

But even so, you find the courage to press the bell, knowing full well that he is home alone.

The feeling of anxiety buzzes throughout your body as you wait for some sort of response. A gentle flutter filling your chest when you finally get one in the form of Daichi opening his front door, disheveled and confused.

“y/n? What are you doing here?”

However, no matter how hard you try to let it out… You just can’t. It’s like the words have been caught in your throat, hanging onto your cords and refusing to let go.

“I just- uh… I just missed you is all…”

Daichi cocks an eyebrow, and you can tell he finds it odd- perhaps not even believing what you have said. But nonetheless, he steps aside inviting you in, though not without a yawn as he rubs his eyes, highlighting the dark circles that have formed just beneath them. Once again you feel bad for intruding in on his time.

He leads you to his room, where he opens his blanket to you knowing full well that the both of you have school the next morning.

Gladly, you accept crawling under his comforter with him and snuggling close because while it wasn’t exactly the reason why you were there, it was definitely something on your mind.

But even with the undeniable comfort that is his embrace and gentle touch as he traces your bare skin with his gentle touches, you still can’t fall asleep. No matter how long you close your eyes, or how many sheep you count, your mind is just racing.

“y/n… why are you really here?”

Suddenly, everything you were holding in becomes overwhelmingly strong. It starts with small tears until you’re sobbing into his sheets.

And even then, you can’t bring yourself to just say it, but at the same time you don’t really need to, because he knows, and he understands.

Turning on the small bedside lamp, he pulls you into his lap. His hold becoming tighter than before as he rocks back and forth with you.

“Shhh… It’s okay.”

“I’m so tired Daichi... “

“I know… I’m here.”

All at once, you feel so much lighter.

The day seemed to drag on longer and longer with each passing minute. It was like one thing after another, something always weighing down on your shoulders from the moment you decided to get out of bed that morning.

You haven’t said anything, but Kuroo can see it from the moment he greeted you at the entrance of the school. He notices it in the way your shoulders tense up, and the way the corners of your lips twitch just the slightest as you try so hard to smile at him as if nothing were wrong… But he knows, and he refuses to let it slip.

“y/n, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing Tetsu, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah… I’m okay.”

He doesn’t believe you, but he doesn’t push either, simply nodding at you as he grasps your hand in his own, intertwining your fingers together as he always does.

Though this time you notice that his grip is slightly tighter than usual, his thumb caressing the back of your hand gently, and for a moment, it appears as though everything eases and the weight of your world doesn’t feel so heavy.

But, it seems like all good things come to an end and the pressure on your shoulders return, only getting heavier and heavier throughout the day until you feel unable to truly be there as the lesson goes on, the teacher’s words flowing through your head and out your ear.

You tell yourself repeatedly that it’ll be okay… And maybe, just maybe it will, but you can see past your own lies, and you can feel yourself slipping as the lecture portion of the class comes to an end.

“l/n?”

“May I please go to the bathroom?”

“Alright, make it quick”

With hurried steps you leave the room that has grown insufferably small, head hung low as you avoid the gazes of your fellow peers, because you know he can see you from his seat just a couple of rows from your own, and that terrifies you.

However, despite your quick pace, you can’t seem to make it to the bathroom, because with each step the walls begin to close in, and with every breath, it seems that your lungs are set to fire. So instead you opt for the nearest empty staircase, hugging your knees to your chest as quiet sobs rip through your body.

Cupping a hand over your mouth to suppress your cries, you don’t notice the heartbroken look in Kuroo’s eyes when he sees your trembling figure.

Silently, he makes his way over to you, engulfing your body against his frame.

“Let it out…”

You finally do, removing your hand from your mouth to set your sobs free into his chest as he runs his fingers over your clothed back. He’s warm, and that eases your mind just a little.

“Tetsurou?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not fine…”

“I know… And that’s okay…I’ve got you...”

And he means it.

Tsukishima noticed the abnormalities in your behavior throughout the day. He saw it in the subtle strains as your words wavered, and your feigned smile, or the simple sharp intake of breath you took when your brows pinched together. And while most were oblivious to your behavior, he had caught all the oddities, docking each one down with a mental note as the day went on.

“Are you okay y/n? You seem… Different.”

“I’m fine Kei, don’t worry about me.”

“...If you say so.”

But now, as your finger’s lace with Tsukishima’s on the walk home together. He can feel the remaining tenseness that has been lingering in your body the whole day. He concludes that his suspicions were correct. You are not okay.

However despite this revelation, you can’t bring yourself to admit it, even as you think back to the bad grade on your math test or the group project, that has more so become a you project with the lack of effort your partner has put in. You feel as though it’ll all come crashing down when you finally give in, and that scares you.

The thought makes you inhale sharply. Your grip on his hand tightening just ever so slightly as your mind becomes so scattered that you don’t even notice his gentle squeeze in response.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I told you already, I’m okay."

A breath of relief that you didn’t even know you were holding is released at the sight of his home, which in this case has very much become one of the places you call home as well.

The familiar scent of his mother’s cooking fills your body as you enter the house, offering her a polite bow which she returns with a bright smile.

All these things have been embedded within you with how many times you’ve done them. So it’s all the more frustrating when this routine is broken in the form of this constant lingering of tangled negative emotions that have you tightening your grip on your pencil, threatening to snap it.

Tsukishima watches the way you slump over your work, your grip on the pencil tight before loosening until it clatters onto the table followed by a broken cry as you curl into yourself.

He doesn’t necessarily show it, but he can feel a piece of himself break along with you as he watches you crumble. Especially since he doesn’t exactly know what to do- he’s never been good with comforting people, not when he was young and not now.

And as you hear his footsteps around the room, you figure that he’s probably left, knowing that he must be a little overwhelmed too. But the sudden weight that’s placed over your shoulders surprises you causing you to look up, only to see that he had wrapped his (secret) favorite dinosaur comforter around you.

Hesitantly, he brings you into his arms, settling you between his legs as he rests his chin upon your head letting you cry into the fabric of the blanket.

It’s in his comforting warmth that you find the courage to finally admit what’s bothering you.

“It feels like everything is going wrong- I try so hard and it feels like everything just breaks… I’m so exhausted Kei.”

He listens silently, letting you vent out your emotions into the quiet space because he wants you to feel heard and safe.

“You are the most capable person I know. All anyone can ever do is their best y/n… And sometimes it doesn’t work out, that’s just life… But I’ll be damned if I let you experience that on your own.”

“Thank you Kei… I love you”

“... I love you too.”

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keyofjetwolf · 3 years ago

Text

What was your first?

So a horse walks into a rehab and says “ouch”. And not a lot. Then a great deal. While also saying nothing. It’s BoJack, in rehab, and going about as well as you might think!

“The Stopped Show” may not have been much about BoJack, but “A Horse Walks Into A Rehab” makes up for it by being 99.9% BoJack, setting aside the brief appearance of the other characters to set their stages for when we get back to them. Diane’s in a shitty motel, Todd’s in a seedy alleyway, Princess Caroline has her porcupine baby, and Mr. Peanutbutter continues to deliver cheer while everything around him burns AND drowns. I’ve now touched base with them about as much as the season premier, and we’ll get busy ignoring them.

As I said, BoJack is the star today, and we continue his quest for ... what, exactly?

Trying to pin it down, that “what is BoJack looking for” question, it’s a lot harder to answer than I expected, which marks another instance of me fucking myself, GOOD JOB ME.

I initially said “punishment”, but that isn’t true, or a least, is too easy. BoJack wants accountability for his actions -- which is a very different thing than punishment -- but he wants it in a way that also absolves him from having to do any work to rise above it. So you’d think he’d love this, the constant claim in rehab that he’s powerless. It seems like the answer to everything, a blanket pass to excuse his behaviour because he’s powerless. Why doesn’t he? I’m not sure I’m entirely clicking with the heart of that, so come with me as I have a poke at it.

For one, I doubt very much rehab would begin and end with “you’re powerless, oh well”. Addiction is some nasty business, but in and of itself, it’s a symptom, not the problem. That in mind, we swing back then to BoJack having to put in the work, only now it’s with the removal of his favourite coping mechanisms.

I think what he was hoping to get out of rehab was more along the lines of “Vodka is a naughty irresistible siren who topples even the most noble of men, but if you cross your eyes and click your heels, you’ll be free from her spell forevermore.” And yeah, no.

I think we get some of that in how, for a while, rehab seems to suit BoJack.

To the point I very specifically said to Doc as I was watching this, “Oh shit, did BoJack just become even MORE insufferable?” He’s okay so long as he has the comfort of the scripts and the regimented plant therapy and the same hike every day. When he starts to get fucked is when he has push further, when he has to work harder, when the treatment demands MORE.

“I notice you tend to deflect when I ask you about the source of your addiction,” his therapist says, causing BoJack to immediately deflect, first with a joke and then, when that doesn’t work, attacking the entire system. Getting to the root of his problem is the last thing BoJack wants, to the point where the entire episode ITSELF is one giant deflection. I made a joke in passing up there about our passing moments with each of the other main characters, but that’s actually it, that’s the heart of this episode.

Each of these are efforts by the episode to deflect what’s going on NOW, tempting us with something shiny and interesting, if only we’d take the bait. I ONLY JUST MADE THIS CONNECTION WELL FUCKING DONE SHOW

And of course, there’s Jameson’s story, which is part deflection, part contrast. She’s intended to appear at first like someone BoJack can relate to, a Sara Lynn Pt. 2 that he wants to save and in whom he sees so much of himself. In equal parts, he’s the adult trying to guide her and the force enabling her, and I’d have to do a bit more thinking on whether I thought his success with her was about him walking both sides of that line, or Jameson just, at the end of the day, being lucky. Either way, it’s also not really about her, so much as BoJack talking a really good game at her, while giving her all the tools to make the worst choices.

Which is, I think, where the episode finally settles. BoJack’s choices have been his own, but they aren’t made in isolation. Throughout this episode, we get moments, presented in reverse chronological order, that could on their own answer that key question: When was the first time you drank?

To settle your nerves to get through a scene everyone was counting on you to nail?

To fit in with the cool kids at high school?

To win your father’s approval?

What’s brilliant to me about each of these flashbacks is that the further into the past we go, the more willing we are to absolve BoJack. In the first, he’s a professional actor required to kiss an attractive and consenting fellow professional in the course of a performance. Nervous? Makes total sense. Getting plastered to do it? LESS SENSE.

The high school one is the most damning, which I adore. BoJack’s the butt of some light bullying by the jock, and I don’t mean to completely dismiss that it sucks, but the remainder of events before he starts in on the beers shows he’s hardly an absolute social pariah. And even if he were, once he begins to drink, BoJack doesn’t just become the life of the party, he becomes cruel (demonstrating quite well that jokes aren’t his only tool of deflection). Worse, that he KNOWS he’s doing it, but cares more about his positive attention than their negative. Still, BoJack’s a kid and peer pressure is a hell of a thing. This isn’t a good look, but it’s also not damning, if he’d come to learn from it.

Now we jump the line to, I’d guess, ten or eleven year old BoJack, who walks in on his father having an affair with his secretary, but too young to recognize what he’s seen. Butterscotch can’t take the risk though, so he effortlessly manipulates little BoJack into getting drunk and passing out, then uses BoJack’s shame about it to keep him quiet on the whole evening. UNDER THE GUISE OF BEING HIS FRIEND AND DOING HIM A FAVOUR BY THE WAY. No question, Butterscotch is a son of a bitch, and the only thing BoJack did wrong here was crave his parent’s love.

Even with the high school one being a little more grey, they’re all pretty cut and dry. Remember that we’re following the thread of “When was the first time you drank?” and to land on the answer “When my unrepentantly dickish father lied to me to save his own ass” puts a pretty solid punctuation mark on the whole affair. Addiction may not be at fault, but Butterscotch Horseman is. Case closed, we can go home.

BUT WAIT WHAT’S THIS

Right at the end, when you think we’re done, there’s one more flashback. A party of some sort, possibly New Year’s. The house sounds empty, there’s only the looping of the record player, stuck repeating the same five seconds again and again and again. Butterscotch and Beatrice are passed out drunk, judging from the empty bottles around them. Was it a good party? A bad one? She has her back to him and they’re about as far apart as they could get while still remaining in the room, but also, nothing’s broken? It’s impossible to know.

What we do know is that BoJack, aged about where we saw him in the “Free Churro” flashback so maybe seven or so? Very young, at any rate, and he’s alone. There doesn’t appear to be anything in the room for a child, so it’s probably fair to say he wasn’t included in the festivities. Did he have something to do instead? His own party maybe? Friends to play with, someone to watch him? Did he even get dinner? From what we’ve seen, “no” is a much more likely answer to any or all of these.

AND NOW THE FIRST TO PUNCH YOU IN THE HEART

Tiny BoJack knocks back several gulps of vodka (like a fucking pro, may I add), then crawls onto the couch next to his unconscious mother, pretending for just a few minutes that she’s cuddling him until he, too, will fall into a drunken slumber.

RIGHT SO WHAT THE FUCK DO WE DO WITH THIS JESUS WEPT

Had you told me “Just wait, seven year old flashback BoJack is going to muddy the hell out of this” I wouldn’t have ... okay, well, I know the show, so I probably would’ve believed you, but I would’ve been preemptively grumpy.

This isn’t his fault! But it is! This isn’t his parent’s fault, but it super super is! Nobody MADE BoJack drink the vodka, as the scene goes to great lengths to show. There is nobody to tell him to do anything at all. Beatrice is three fucking sheets to the wind, she has no idea he’s there and he could have pretend cuddled all night AND stayed sober. Did baby BoJack, like adult BoJack, take the drink to calm his nerves for an expression of physical intimacy? Would baby BoJack have even known that was an option? Remember, this is framed as the answer to the question “When was the first time you drank?” Not “took a drink”, but “you DRANK”, the phrasing of which I think is important. It’s all about the root of the problem. What I get out of that question is then is “the first time you drank to numb yourself”.

Baby BoJack is looking at this disaster, this mess that is his every day no matter how many party hats and streamers you stick on it, and he wants anything else at all. So he turns to the easiest thing he knows will take it away the fastest. The situation isn’t his fault. The opportunity isn’t his fault. But the response IS, in a way that EVEN AS I SAY IT, makes me feel shitty.

CONGRATS BOJACK HORSEMAN FOR MAKING ME SEE A LITERAL CHILD SLAMMING BACK VODKA STRAIGHT FROM THE BOTTLE AND MAKING ME GO “okay, but”.

SEASON SIX SHOULD BE A WALK IN THE PARK

#jet wolf watches bojack #it’s no wonder the answers for bojack are so hard to find #when even the goddamn QUESTION requires a dissertation and three hundred caveats #oh i didn't have a place for it really in this essay #but i love the use of the space/planetarium overlay when bojack is really wrestling with his urges

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drabbles-mc · 4 years ago

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Closing Time

Obispo “Bishop” Losa x Reader

Warnings: language, violence, unwanted physical contact

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Thank you so much to @masterlistforimagines for trusting me with this prompt. I hope I gave you what you were looking for! Love some worked up, protective Bish ❤

Things were finally starting to calm down a little bit. The final rush of people had come and gone for the most part—there were just a couple stragglers, a few couples, and a small group of men left in the café. You had a little more than an hour before you had to close, so you couldn’t quite try prompting people to leave yet. Technically even if it was trickling past closing time you couldn’t really do anything, which was frustrating.

You and the other barista on shift with you were keeping yourselves busy. The more you cleaned up and put away now, the quicker you could take off once everyone left. Both of you thought that it wasn’t quite fair that your manager got to leave you there alone for the last chunk of the day, but there wasn’t much you could do besides roll your eyes as they left.

Your mind flashed back to the conversation you had had with Bishop a couple weeks ago when you had told him about how your manager had started leaving two staff on their own for the last part of the day. He had scoffed and shook his head.

“They shouldn’t be able to do that, Querida.”

You shrugged, knowing he was right but also knowing that you couldn’t do anything to change it, “I know. I just don’t get how they can be there all day and then they decide the last two hours is too much?”

“What if something happens? What if you need them and they aren’t there?”

You hate that shrugging is the only response that you can think of, “I guess we have to call them back? Or the cops? Depends on the situation. I have no idea.”

“Call me before you call the cops,” his tone was serious.

You smiled, shaking your head, “Gonna roll up with the guys if someone is trying to rob us?”

“I won’t even need the guys,” he waited for you to meet his eyes, “I’m serious. Anything happens that doesn’t sit right with you, call me. I’ll be there in a heartbeat.”

“Yes sir,” you kissed him lightly on the lips to get the serious expression on his face to go away. It worked—you were rewarded with a smile as he pulled you closer to him.

You were snapped back to the present when you heard someone trying to get your attention so they could pay their check and leave. You cashed them out as quickly as you could without making it seem like you were trying to rush them out. You flashed them a smile and a wave as they left, immediately going to clean off their table so it would be one less thing to do later.

You felt someone staring at you. As you glanced around, you saw one of the men at the table of three was watching you intently, a smile on his face. You averted your eyes quickly, not wanting to feed into whatever he was playing at. You hoped if you ignored it enough, he’d get the hint and they would just leave without giving the two of you any trouble.

The other barista came walking out of the back room, a worried look on her face, “Hey, Y/N, can I ask you for a huge favor?”

“What’s up?”

“I just got off the phone with my mom. My brother got into some kind of shit, and I need to go pick him up from the station,” she sighed, “Would you be alright closing up? There’s only like forty minutes until we close anyway.”

“By myself?” your stomach was already in knots and that was when you had someone there with you, “If it’s only forty minutes can’t you just wait to go get him? He’s at the station he’s not going anywhere.”

“My mom sounded really freaked out.”

You made sure your voice was hushed, “I’m freaked out. I don’t wanna be alone with all these people. Not when they know I’m alone.”

“Almost everyone is gone. There’s only like five people left.”

You looked around and saw that she was right. There was one couple left and the table of three men.

“Please,” she snapped you out of your thoughts, “I’ll owe you big-time.”

You sighed, knowing you weren’t really going to be able to talk her out of leaving, “Yea, you will.”

She hugged you and said a quick goodbye before going and grabbing her purse and heading out the door. You sighed as it shut behind her, not looking forward to the rest of your time alone in the café. You stayed behind the counter, wanting to keep constant surveillance on everything that was happening around you. You didn’t like to think of yourself as a paranoid person, but this situation was playing out in a million different terrible ways in your mind.

You instinctively reached to your pocket to grab your phone. You wanted to call Bishop so badly, but nothing had even really happened, so you didn’t want to call him for what might turn out to be a perfectly easy closing shift. You took a deep breath to try and calm your nerves.

The last couple came up to you to pay their check. You smiled and thanked them as they tucked a few bills into the tip jar on the counter. With grins and “We’ll be back soon’s” they were out the door, leaving you alone with the three men who seemed to have no intention of getting up and leaving any time soon. Your hands were fidgeting and you tried to hide it behind the counter so they wouldn’t be able to see how nervous you were.

Normally you didn’t try to force people out, but it was twenty minutes away from closing time and it wasn’t like any of the men at the table had any intention of ordering more food or drinks. And, even if they wanted to, everything was shut down for the night. You had tried to make a not-so-subtle show of yourself shutting everything off to try and prompt other customers to leave. Most of them took the hint, but not these guys.

You took another deep breath as you got yourself psyched up enough to approach their table. It was in that moment that you regretted not letting Bishop teach you some very simple, but very effective, take-down and self-defense techniques. You made a mental note to take him up on that immediately when this was all over with.

You approached their table, clearing your throat, “Are you gentlemen paying together or separately?” you wanted to give them two options that both resulted in them paying up and leaving.

The man who had been staring at you earlier smiled at you, “Kicking us out already, sweetheart?”

The word sweetheart made your skin crawl. You tried your hardest to seem unfazed, “I didn’t say anything about kicking you out. I just asked how you gentlemen are planning to pay this evening, that’s all.”

“We aren’t ready yet,” another one of the men spoke up, his tone not coated in false kindness like the previous man’s had been.

You nodded, “I’ll give you a couple more minutes to decide, then.”

As you went to talk back behind the counter, the first man grabbed your forearm. It wasn’t hard, he wasn’t doing it to cause physical pain, but the touch of his hand felt like it was burning your skin. You yanked your arm quickly out of his grip, covering where his hand had been with your own like you were soothing a burn.

“Could you be a doll and get me a glass of water?” his smile made you want to punch his teeth in.

“Sure,” your jaw was clenched but you were trying to hide the trembling in your hands. You walked back behind the counter, grabbing a plastic cup and filling it with water and ice. You tried to take a deep breath so you could carry it back to the table without the men seeing that your hands were shaking. You couldn’t give them that kind of satisfaction.

You set the cup of water down without comment. When you turned to walk away, you felt the man’s hand graze along the small of your back, “Thanks, sweetheart.”

Your bottom lip began to tremble as you stepped just into the back room. You could still see them but they couldn’t really see you. You took your phone out and immediately dialed Bishop.

He answered on the second ring, his voice as calm as ever, “Mi vida, done with work?”

“Um, I,” your voice was shaking and you couldn’t even force a sentence out.

“What’s wrong?” his tone shifted immediately shifted.

“You, you said…you said to call,” it was hard to organize your thoughts as you peered through the window at the table of men, “if something didn’t feel right. There’s these guys here and they won’t leave and I ju—”

He didn’t let you finish your thought, “I’m on my way. Be there in less than ten minutes, Y/N. Be safe.”

You let out a shaky sigh as you hung up and put the phone in your pocket. Bishop didn’t live very far from where you worked—that was how you two had ended up meeting in the first place. If he was riding fast, which you knew he would be, he could easily cut the time in half that it would take to get there. You prayed he would show up before anything else happened.

You entered back into the main expanse of the café, but stayed behind the counter. You wanted as much space as possible between you and those creeps. You looked at them out of the corner of your eye, afraid that direct eye contact would invite conversation, or worse, make them approach you.

A few minutes later, you heard the sound of Bishop’s bike as he rolled into the lot. You let out a breath that you had been holding for what felt like an eternity. Knowing that he was going to be walking inside in a moment, and that it was officially past closing time, you walked up to the table again to ask them to pay their checks.

“Together or separate, gentlemen?” you hated that you still felt pressured to be polite.

The same man reached out and touched your hand again, “Together sounds good to me,” he looked at the two men sitting with him, “Sound good to you boys?”

You were trying not to think about the tears that were stinging at the edges of your eyes as you pulled your hand back. You inhaled slowly through your nose, feeling a sob building up in your throat when you heard the chimes on the door as Bishop walked in, still wearing his kutte.

“It’s past closing time, buddy,” the man who had been silent up until that point spoke up.

Bishop’s face was expressionless and his tone was frigid, “I’m here by request.”

You felt like your feet were glued to the ground as you felt the three men staring at you, and Bishop staring at them. “Querida,” his eyes were still locked on the table of men but you could hear the small shift in his tone as he addressed you, “Come over here, please.”

The man who had been touching you all night scoffed, “Leave the lady alone. No one is getting hurt here. Why don’t you run along with your glorified bicycle, huh?”

Bishop was a lot of things, but insecure wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t one that was easily baited into doing volatile or stupid things. The man’s comment didn’t rile him up, but you knew that if you weren’t able to make yourself move within the next five seconds things were going to get ugly very quickly. But you were frozen.

Your eyes darted back and forth between all four men. Bishop could see it on your face that as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t force yourself to move. He stepped forward and went to wedge himself between you and the table of men. The man stood up and went to grab your arm again but Bishop quickly grabbed his arm, spun him around, and pinned him face-down onto the table. Bishop didn’t push you out of the way, but the commotion was enough to get you to force yourself to take a few steps back.

“Don’t even fucking think about it,” he wasn’t yelling, but he didn’t have to.

The other two men stood up immediately, ready to fight. The fact that none of them reached for weapons made both you and Bishop assume that they weren’t carrying any. For a moment you forgot that not every single person carried at least one firearm on themselves at all times—the club gave you a skewed view of things like that.

“Why don’t you just pay your check and get out,” Bishop was still pinning the one man down on the table, the and that wasn’t holding his arm was gripping the back of the man’s neck.

“Get your fucking hands off me,” the man spat out against the table.

Bishop pushed his face down harder, “Keep your fucking hands off of women.”

“What’s your problem?” his voice was muffled from the force Bishop was applying to keep him pinned against the table.

Bishop kept his grip as he lifted the man off the table and shoved him towards the other two towards the door. “Get out.”

One of the other men stepped forward, “At least let us pay the lady,” there was an evil smile on his face.

“Don’t come any closer,” Bishop was fully blocking your body with his, “if you all want to leave here with your hands fully intact.”

He stepped forward again, closing the gap between he and Bishop. You knew this wasn’t going to be pretty. The man cocked his arm back for an obvious right hook that Bishop was able to dodge. He countered but instead of punching, he shoved his hand into the man’s throat, hard, causing him to gasp and sputter as he tumbled backwards. While he was coughing, that’s when Bishop landed a punch clean to the man’s jaw. They should’ve been counting their lucky stars that Bishop didn’t wear rings on every finger like some of the other guys in the club. It still hurt, but it wouldn’t slice their faces up nearly as bad.

“If you aren’t gonna pay or apologize, then get the fuck out,” he stood there, watching the man he had just punched retreat slightly.

The only one left who hadn’t been accosted by Bishop in some way stepped forward. You were thankful that they weren’t smart enough to try and team up on him all at once. You wondered why they wouldn’t just leave but you knew that at this point it was no longer about you, it was purely about their egos.

“Just go home,” Bishop sounded over it.

“After you, old man.”

Bishop didn’t even wait for the man to advance. It happened so fast that you didn’t register exactly how it went down, but it somehow ended with Bishop pinning one of the man’s hands to the table as he took his gun out. Everyone’s eyes, including yours, went wide at the sight of Bishop’s gun. You wanted to believe he wasn’t going to fire it off where you worked but you couldn’t be certain. You felt like you were stuck watching everything happening around you.

“Bish…” your voice was soft.

Before you could say anything else, he brought the butt of his gun down hard on the man’s hand. There was a loud cracking sound and the man let out a yell. Bishop shoved him towards the door as he tucked the gun away again.

“I told you to leave if you wanted your fucking hands. Now get out.”

The three of them scampered out the door to lick their wounds somewhere far away. You were stuck in place, your whole body trembling. You hadn’t expected it to go that way. You hoped that he could just show up and his presence would be enough to get them to leave. You felt sorry for dragging him into such a mess.

“Did they hurt you?” his voice was soft—he sounded like a completely different Bishop than who he had just been not even a minute before.

You shook your head, needing a moment to force words out, “No. I, I’m so sorry, Obispo. I dragged you into this I didn’t mean—”

He wrapped you in a hug, pulling you tight up against his chest, “Don’t apologize. You never should’ve been here alone. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.”

You finally let the tears fall from your eyes after holding them in all night. There were a million emotions coursing through your body and you trembled as Bishop held you, gently running his fingers through your hair.

“You’re safe,” his voice was just above a whisper.

Your body had finally stopped shaking. You spoke up, your voice soft, “I love you.”

He kissed the top of you head, “I love you too,” he pulled back so he could look into your eyes, “Want to ride home with me?”

You nodded, “Please. As long as you don’t mind bringing me to work tomorrow?”

He shook his head, “Not at all. I’m gonna be here first thing in the morning,” he looped his arm around your shoulder and walked towards the door with you. He waited as you shut off the last of the lights and locked the doors, “Gonna talk to your fucking manager, too.”

You smiled for the first time all night, “Oh are you?”

“Yea. I’ll break their hands too if I have to.”

You laughed despite the tension that was still trying to leave your body, “I love you so much.”

“Mmm,” he pulled you close and kissed your temple as you made your way towards his bike, “I love you too.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #bishop losa #bishop x reader #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa x you #obispo losa #obispo losa x reader #bishop losa fanfiction #fanfiction #my writing #drabblesmc #request

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mythiica · 4 years ago

Text

thigh job | haikyuu

title | thigh job mini scenarios fandom | haikyuu!! characters | toru oikawa, hajime iwaizumi, kentarou kyoutani, tadashi yamaguchi, wakatoshi ushijima genre | smut warnings | sin, cursing kinks | various positions for thigh jobs + added kinks (public sex, dirty talk, mild humiliation/embarassment, teasing, mirror sex, biting, licking, hickeys, edging, hair pulling, kissing, nipple play, manhandling, mild choking (gentle), slapping/spanking) intended reader gender audience | neutral word count | about 650 words per person / 3252 words total other comments | yum - i did my darnest to make each part gender neutral

Oikawa’s shorts and boxers drop in record time, falling to his ankles where they won’t get in the way. He pins you against the cold cement wall with his hips and flashes you the most shit eating grin you’ve ever seen. Even in the poor lighting of the gym supply closet, you catch the glint on his canines.

He’s ready, are you?

“C’mon baby, spread your legs for me like you did last night…” You have no choice but to oblige really. (Defying him would only ensure that he’d wreck you worse than he already has planned. Although this is a tempting offer, Oikawa has practice in less than ten minutes– but that notion has been pushed to the back of his mind now.)

Obeying your boyfriend, you swallow hard and slide your left foot outwards more. Happy with your compliance, Oikawa clamps his large hand against your thigh to hold you in place. This is more than enough for what he has planned.

Oikawa palms his cock with his free hand before inserting himself just between your thighs. With his nose nestling in his favorite spot below your jaw, he moans softly and bucks his hips back and forth. He drinks in every soft sound you make, whether it is intentional or not.

“Hmm…” he hums against your skin. Oikawa’s finger tips dig into the supple flesh of your thighs just like you’ve seen him do to a volleyball before serving. Is the wetness between your legs from his cock or from you? This is a very important question, but you don’t have enough braincells to properly process it because of how good it feels. All coherent thoughts have melted out of your ears and are replaced with the melodious moans Oikawa makes.

“Are you not going to fuck me?”

Your boyfriend peels back and tips his head to the side. “I am fucking you.”

“You’re fucking my thighs.”

“Is your hole jealous~? Is it pulsating and begging for my cock?”

You should have known better than to say anything to Oikawa, because he immediately found a weak spot to poke at. This masochistic ability makes him an absolute tease, so there is no winning in sight. Oikawa takes handfuls of the backs of your thighs and lifts you into the air slightly. With your back pressed against the wall, you’re not escaping any time soon.

The friction is dangerous and makes your breath leave your lungs just about as fast as your soul departs when someone opens the door to the closet.

“Who’s going to help me put up the net?” Iwaizumi asks.

For a second, you think he’s asking you or Oikawa, but the two of you are hidden just out of view. The corner of the storage racks provides enough coverage that Iwaizumi can’t see you… nor does he suspect anything.

Suddenly, your heart is thundering and you’re squirming out of Oikawa’s grip.

“Shh…” Oikawa keeps you in places, but cups a hand over your mouth. He’s still wearing that fucking smirk of his, and continues rolling his body. “Behave, angel.”

“Make Kentarou do it!” someone else responds.

The doors close after Iwaizumi leaves with the cart of volleyballs. Had he looked over his shoulder at any time, he would have surely caught you and Oikawa in the act.

You’re about to ask how the two of you will leave now that the team has gathered, but Oikawa nips your skin below your ear. He nurses on the skin there, ensuring that a bruise blossoms for him. The wet sounds are so loud, you don’t know how no one has caught the two of you.

“Toru...” you whine, draping your arms over his shoulders.

He tips his head up to smile and kiss you. “Are you going to cum just from me fucking your thighs?”

There he goes using your words against you.

“Yes…”

“Well good, because so am I–”

Iwaizumi holds you in his lap, directly in front of the tall mirror. You’re sitting in the middle of his strong legs, positioned in such a way that his cock fits snugly between your thighs. You can feel the solid muscles of his chest against your back. Every time Iwaizumi moves slightly – shifting to rest his chin on your shoulder, running a large hand across your side, tilting his hips upwards so his cock grinds against you in the most perfect way – he flexes against your bare skin and it feels delicious.

His lips flutter along your skin, following the curve of your neck as his fingers press down against the bruises speckled across your sides. It’s almost like he’s playing the piano on you, but he’s not that delicate– no, it’s more like Iwaizumi is preparing to spike and is testing the limits of the ball.

But, you’re the ball in this metaphor.

Small compared to Iwazuimi and completely at his mercy.

“Was that a moan I heard?”

“Y-Yes…”

Iwaizumi takes your wrists in a hand, pulling your arms out of the way. He wants full access to your body without any interruptions. Squirming wouldn’t do, so your boyfriend scoots you closer to the mirror. “Watch this–”

He thrusts slowly this time, making sure that the tip of his cock peeks out from in between your thighs. It’s mesmerizing: you watch with a flushed expression as his blushing slit leaks precum before it disappears for a moment. This earns a low moan from the back of your throat as you try to arch your back and grind against his cock.

“Are you watching, baby?”

You only hum in response.

His free hand falls to your crotch, but instead of directly pleasuring you, Iwaizumi rubs his fingers against the slit. He coaxes moans out of himself as you’re frozen watching his beautiful expressions. This is a real treat honestly, seeing as he rarely indulges in such lewd sounds and faces. You’re almost not even mad that he’s only giving you half the attention you want. The heel of his palm stimulates you, but it’s really not enough.

Iwa snaps his head forward, and tongue falls from his lips. Breathless, you lock eyes with his as he peers at you from over your shoulder. He makes a point of dragging his tongue across your skin before finding the perfect place to leave another hickey. At this rate, you’ll surely look like a dalmatian when the two of you are done.

Another hard thrust and you’re reminded that he’s fucking your thighs. How is he not numb at this point? The man has so much patience, which is both a virtue and a curse. Iwaizumi loves edging you past the point of no return, and today is no exception. Not to say that you don’t enjoy it– but you would be much happier if he just let you cum.

“Iwa-channn~” “What is it, baby? You’re so cute like this, really.”

“I wanna see you cum…”

His eyes flash open, as if you’ve suddenly slapped him across the face. And he might as well have because Iwaizumi takes this as a challenge, subconsciously puffing his chest out in a dominant display of strength. He pulls your arms over your head, making you stretch and sit up slightly.

With a shaky breath, Iwaizumi tenses his muscles and bucks back and forth, bringing himself closer and closer to an orgasm. Your eyes are plastered to the mirror as you watch and let him do whatever he has to in order to cum.

It’s beautiful the way he rolls and grinds almost desperately. The next moment, Iwaizumi has your left nipple caught between his pointer and middle finger. You reward each sharp tug with a drawn out moan.

“Hajime!”

He buries his face against the back of your neck as he cums, white painting your thighs and the mirror…

Kyoutani usually likes to see you with your legs spread for him, but this is one of the rare instances where he’s decided to make you beg for him. Every powerful thrust of his sends you further and further into the mattress, but he’s not fucking you the way you want.

He’s throbbing and hard and it feels so good, but you know that the both of you would be much happier if he inserted himself inside of you… There are patches of dry semen on your thighs and fresh precum coating the upper insides of your thighs, but you suspect he’s done this on purpose to annoy you.

“Look at me, doll.”

Tipping your head back, Kyoutani curls his calloused fingers under your jaw. His dark eyes meet yours, and in a sudden moment of clarity, your boyfriend leans down to kiss you. It’s hot and needy, the way he pushes his tongue past your lips in an attempt to steal your breath. Now, Kyoutani rolls his hips, fucking your thighs at a slower pace than before.

This does nothing for the tingling sensation – your skin has long gone numb there, the only thing reminding you that he’s there are the occasional nervous twitch of his cock as it spurts out more cum. The sheets beneath you are drenched at this point, though you doubt it’s entirely wet from just him. He always has this effect on you: making you weak at the knees and aroused in moments.

“Hey, pretty, are you going to moan? Or do I have to squeeze it out of you…” Kyoutani’s hand creeps down until he presses the soft curve between his thumb and his pointer finger against your throat just enough to remind you who you belong to.

You let out a low moan-mangled version of his name, which he seems to like because he applies a bit more pressure while keeping his eyes on your expression. He’s got his own little slut to try things on, and Kyoutani has an almost unhealthy obsession with hearing you call his name. Something about how you say it so breathlessly…

He must have gotten carried away, because you have to tap his forearm. There’s a flicker of sympathy in Kyoutani’s eyes as he removes his hand from your throat. Instead, he lets his fingers trail up your cheek until he laces his fingers in your hair. His hips slow down from the brutal pace, and it’s just enough of a moment for you to arch yourself upwards and kiss him.

Kyoutani hums happily. “Baby you’re so beautiful, you know that?”

Your heart swells, thinking this might be the moment he decides to properly fuck you. No more of this thigh-job bullshit that’s driving you insane!

“Kenta~” you mewl, rocking your hips sideways, “Don’t you want to fuck me?”

“Well of course I do.” He gives your hair a sharp tug and with that reclaims dominance over you. “But not yet. I want you horny and at the edge before I take you. You’re also my slut. Remember that.”

And back he goes, fucking your thighs like his life depends on it. This time, Kyoutani does more with his hands to keep you entertained: he’s tugging on your hair, pulling you up slightly. It’s a silent demand that you watch as his cock disappears between the flesh of your thighs. Now, you don’t need to be properly told this, because you love the sight of his thick cock and would do anything to see it.

He’s not paying attention to your arms anymore, so you drape your arms over his shoulders. “Do my thighs feel good, Kenta?”

“Hmm.. yes…”

“Are you gonna cum?”

He grunts and tries to shake your grip off when he realizes that you’re playing with his hair. It always sends goosebumps down his spine, and as if on cue, Kyoutani shivers.

“Fuck– stop doing that–

“Why? I thought you liked it!”

Kyoutani manages to swat your hands away, but not before you leave a lasting impression on him. Heat pools between your thighs again as he groans and lets his head hang. Kyoutani presses his forehead to your chest and inhales slowly to catch his breath.

“Well done, doll.”

Yamaguchi quickly lost the confidence that momentarily flooded his body. One second, the two of you were lounging on the carpet at the base of his bed, but now he’s got you pressed against the edge. You’re still on your knees though and your back is flush against his mattress. Yamaguchi’s got hands on either side of you, and he’s not entirely sure what to do.

He’s a stuttering mess until you place a hand on his chest to calm him.

Cupping his face, you whisper: “Shh.. it’s okay. I’ll show you.”

Then, dropping your hand slowly, you lace your fingers with his. He takes a slow breath, following your motions carefully. With your free hand, you pull his cock from his shorts and guide him carefully until he’s between your thighs.

“Now roll your hips, Tadashi.”

“But…”

Instead of saying something, you nod your head encouragingly. Yamaguchi listens, letting his body grind against yours. His cock rubs against you, wetting your skin with arousal. He got hard and horny just from seeing your naked form, which was really a compliment.

Timid Yamaguchi looks to you for more instructions, tightening his grip on your hand. When you say nothing, he takes the chance to be bold: he palms your ass, bringing you closer to his person. This allows him to buck his hips harder and find more delicious friction. It surprises you, and you’re thrust forward without so much as a warning.

It’s such an awkward position: you leaning slightly forward and away from the bed while Yamaguchi is doing his best to balance himself and fuck the space between your thighs. Still, his expressions are beautiful, and they make up for his lack of experience.

Despite having turned a bright shade of cherry red, you can clearly count every freckle across his cheeks and down his chest. You want to suck on his skin and leave a hickey there, just a testament to how much you love him.

Yamaguchi is faster than you though, and he starts pawing at your ass– pulling your cheeks apart playfully before letting go. Every time he does it, his touch is gentle but you understand well enough that he means business. He’s being rougher than you expected, almost like he’s been holding this in and finally let go once prompted.

Was this a secret wildcard he had been hiding in his sleeve? As a pinch server, his job was to catch the opponent off guard. (Not to say that you are in any way his opponent now– Yamaguchi loves you very much, but you can’t help but make the connection now that he’s actually decided to dominate you in some way. Whether it’s out of need and desperation to cum, or some other primal instinct ignited by seeing your body, you’re not really sure. Does it matter? Again, not really.)

You can feel his fingertips pressing down into the flesh of your side and the edge of his nails in your skin. Yamaguchi tips his chin down, to kiss along your collarbone. He wants to nip you, but he’s hesitating again.

This time, you push his head against your skin, silently prompting him to do it as you roll your hips and award your boyfriend with more pleasure. His teeth graze you gently, but when you squeeze your thighs together tightly, Yamaguchi moans. He spills all over the backs of your thighs, and you’re sure that the sheets will have to be washed after this.

The two of you are sweating profusely, and Yamaguchi finally lets his hands fall to his side. This gives you the chance to turn and lock your arms around his neck and cling to him, rising with the steady swell of his chest as he catches his breath.

Ushijima slips his hand under your shirt, pressing his hand against your torso to keep you close. He’s still warm and wet from his post-practice shower, and conveniently naked– meaning you can feel every rigid muscle of his abdomen. Every body roll is a blessing because his biceps go taunt and you can almost trace the veins in his arms.

It’s a shame he won’t let you turn around though because you would love to cup his face and egg him on while he fucks your thighs. Dirty ideas of what to say fill your mind: how big he is and the fact that his tip keeps poking out from between your thighs, how beautiful his grunts and moans are despite his attempts to be quiet– the list goes on, but suddenly his cock slides between your folds.

He’s bucking his hips against your ass and keeping you in place, but then readjusts himself back between your thighs. When you give your boyfriend a sad wine, his free hand snakes around to catch your wrist.

“Waka-!”

Now, he’s thrusting slower than before, as if he doesn’t want to make the same mistake again.

“Hm?” he hums in acknowledgement. Ushijima nestles his chin in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent momentarily before kissing your temple. “You said you were too sore from earlier. Has something changed?”

“What’s changed is that you got hard again, and I can’t resist your moans!”

When he laughs, Ushijima’s entire chest vibrates like the absolute unit he is. His hand moves from your chest down to your navel. (They cover so much real estate that it makes you laugh most times, but now the roughness of his fingertips makes you even more aroused despite having recently quite literally had your fill of Wakatoshi Ushijima.)

“You have nice thighs…”

“Don’t try to sweet talk me now!”

The truth is, Ushijima could be an absolute angel, but you know the truth that he’s an absolute sinner that fucks better than the devil. You’re sure that he’ll have you crying his name in no time.

With a huff, you press your fingers at your thighs and rub his tip when it peeks through. The first time you do this, Ushijima exhales sharply, obviously surprised by the new stimulation. His shaft might be going numb, but the cold sensation of your fingers spreading the precum across his skin makes him absolutely giddy.

His grip begins to tighten, a telltale sign that he’s really close to unravelling. The moan is hanging in the back of his throat, you can even hear the build up–

Therefore, it’s the perfect time to lift your thigh and ruin his orgasm.

Droplets of white dribble down your inner leg, but it’s not nearly as much as usual. The man trembles for a moment before clamping his hand down on your leg and pushing it down quickly. He’s back to fucking your thighs, but this time keeps them in place to ensure he’ll finish.

“Don’t be a brat,” Ushijima whispers against the curve of your ear.

The words raise goosebumps across your skin, but you don’t regret it in the slightest. “What if I did it again?”

At this point, you know he’s going to leave some bruises. Ushijima grunts again and gives your ass a loud smack, making you gasp. It’s a swift spanking, and the sound barely has a chance to echo. His hand flies through the air again and collides with your thigh this time. It stings for a moment, distracting you from misbehaving again, and giving Ushijima a chance to spill semen all over you and the sheets.

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