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inf3ct3dd · 6 months

Text

streamer!ellie headcanons

warnings: yo no se

content : streamer!ellie headcanons 🔥🔥

authors note : the streets r calling and they’re telling me to write streamer ellie hcs….

- def started off as a faceless streamer. she wasn’t really comfortable on camera, and she just thought it would be way easier. you can only see her shoulders-down leaving her (deliciosu. scrumptious. yummy) arms in the cameras view.

- her twitch user is “creeperewman” cuz shes like…discreetly hiding her initials and referencing the best minecraft parody ever 😕!!!

- bought the most random shitty mic and webcam and started streaming 🔥🔥 she never got rid of either of them its part of her odd loser charm

“‘fartmaster69:it’s probably cuz your camera’ it’s probably bc of YOUR CAMERA!!! theres nothing wrong w my camera bro 😞”

“don’t listen to them…ur perfect 🤫 IM NOT TALKING TO U GUYS IM TALKING TO MY CAMERA”

- only had a few viewers the first couple times she streamed, and it was some random 10 yr old who kept spamming “yassss” in the chat and some dude who said she was shit at minecraft 😞 he was LYING

- started off doing minecraft speed runs (or trying to) and got like way good over time

- she randomly started getting more and more viewers, because people kept posting abt her and calling her fine on tiktok , making edits of her hands and her voice 😭😭 (real)

- as she got more and more viewers, she started branching out more with the games she’d play. def loves shooter games like cod and pubg, but she’d also play like indie horror games like faith (omg markiplier fans would know)

- she has a orange cat she named garfield (cuz…of course she does) and he’s always sitting on her lap during her streams or messing w her setup 💔💔

- def put stickers all over her headset and showed them off all proud on stream

- designed her own cute banners and stuff for streams 😞!!!

- def had a subreddit/disc server with her viewers where she’d let them give her game recs or make memes of her

- ppl saw her guitar in the back of her streams and BEGGED HER to play it and she had her own lil concert stream !!! she was so freaking nervous and messed up a bunch the first like minute or two but like after that she was in the ZONE

“‘ewswife: i wish i was that guitar’ oh!! you guys are so…kind!!!”

- when she INSANELY hit 1k, she did a face reveal and she hit 10k the same day 😦 the amount of edits that ppl made was actually insane. ESP ONES MAKING FUN OF DREAMS FACE REVEALLLL

- started doing much more random shit on stream after she got more famous. she LOVES cooking on stream, and she’d start reacting to random shit ppl sent her on the subreddit

- she cut her hair on stream once, and everyone in the chat kept spamming “yo bob…is fye” for like 5 minutes 😪

- “you’re at work watching me? i hope you get fired. i mean. i hope you don’t get fired 😞”

- she gets so many thirst comments and like…is terrible at responding to them

“‘ewleftbicep: you look so vulnerable today’ WHAT”

- she has her own apartment cuz of her awesome streaming money 🔥🔥🔥 soundproofed walls too cuz she’s. loud.

- one day, you were walking on campus to a class. you had your headphones on, listening to your main playlist on shuffle, when you got stopped by someone. you pulled your headphones off your ears and gave the man in front of you a confused look. you looked down to his hands, holding a tiny mic, and another dude holding a camera.

“what song are you listening to?” he held the microphone towards you, awaiting your response.

you quickly responded “uhm, last goodbye, by jeff buckley.” and stood there awkwardly, pushing a piece of hair out of your face.

the man quickly thanked you and you walked away, slightly suprised.

- after a couple hours, the video had blown up and the comments were filled with people complimenting you.

pickleluna: jeff buckley girl is so fine

minyonlala: 3rd girl is so bad

rilakkila: I NEED JEFF BUCKLEY GIRL

and unknown to you, someone else found you on their fyp.

creeperewman: guys what is the 3rd girls @. im literally BEGGING BRO PLEASEEE

- ewleftbicep: BEING DESPERATE ON MAIN IS CRAZY

- ewsgirlf: random tiktok girl stole my wife 💔

- elliewilliamsidechick: guys im literally the 3rd girl 😂😂😂

- it didn’t take long for your phone to be blown up with people sending you the video, tagging you in funny comments, and finding your instagram. you watched the video, and saw ellie was the top comment. you checked her profile, and saw how FINE she was, and immediately responded

- y/nmainn: guys 😳😳😳 what if i was the third girl 😳😳

- ellie checked her phone and saw thousands of people tagging your comment, and she wasted zero time following you on tiktok. and your instagram. its not stalking if its in your bio, right?

- you two immediately hit it off, and ellie loved the fact that you had absolutely no idea who she was. to you, she was just some hot girl. not some famous streamer you were obsessed with.

- she didn’t even realize you two went to the same school until she saw you in her astrophysics class one day, and she almost had a heart attack when you waved at her and walked over to sit next to her.

“what a coincidence.”

- she took you out on your first date to a planetarium, and not even a week after, asked you to be her girlfriend.

- she definitely teaches you how to play her favorite games. but she gets wayyyy defensive when you beat her.

“im just letting you win.”

“beginners luck.”

but shes SO COCKY when she beats you

“hey, don’t be so hard on yourself after this. not your fault im a professional!”

“aw, maybe one day you’ll be as good as me”

- definitely helps you build your own pc.

- loves watching you play things like animal crossing or stardew valley, always lays on your shoulder while you’re on the couch.

“why are you being so mean to gaston :((“

“because hes UGLY and he has an ugly house and he’s ruining my village.”

“wowww you’re bullying a little bunny man because he doesn’t fit your aesthetic 😒 so mean”

- if you like more aggressive games like cod, she loves listening to you talk shit while you play and always makes fun of people with you. (she thinks its hot when you’re mean to people)

- her chat absolutely loves you, and every time you stream together its a continuous stream of “me and who” and “when is it my turn 😪”

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armpirate · 3 months

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Better than fiction | Choi San

Bf experience

pairing: Idol!Choi San x fem!reader

w.c.: 4.4k

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, oral sex (female and male receiving), masturbation (female receiving), protected sex, hair pulling, choking, dirty talk, dom!San x sub!reader. (Minors DNI! Refrain from reading if you're not +18, and ignore if you don't like this type of content).

Summary: You never thought what your boyfriend's reaction to you writing fanfic would be like, but you certainly didn't expect him to end up so jealous of himself to end up making your fantases come true

Aprox. time of reading: 19 minutes

MASTERLIST

Your blood stopped running for a few seconds. You could feel the way some parts of your body went numb, only keeping your attention on the live San started not that long ago, and that you decided to hear because his voice just had that calming effect on you. It didn't matter if it was through video call, audio messages, or those lives. You could hear him talking for hours and feel at ease all the time it lasted.

Except that day.

The way he made an understanding sound, followed by a scoff, that reached the deepest side of your brain, had you almost sitting at the edge of your bed, holding your phone with your two hands. The clicking sounds of his keyboard were the only thing that could be heard, while the chat went crazy, trying to distract him from his own curiosity.

There was a thick silence that made you aware of how hard you gulped, moving over the bed, feeling uncomfortable whatever the position it was.

"I see you, guys, are having fun" he teased with a honeyed voice.

That mocking tone, and the chuckle he let out after had you silently screaming, covering your mouth with the palm of your hand.

Even if he didn't know you were part of that small group of people that loved living in delululand, although you were already in your personal fanfic every day with him, you felt exposed, more like you'd never been before. It felt like you were caught doing something wrong, even if San wasn't speaking to you directly.

You didn't know how long you stayed in your bed, laying on your back as you stared at the ceiling. Only thing you were hoping for was that San didn't bring it up the next time you saw each other.

Basically because you were bad at lying, but San was also great at noticing when you lied to him.

You raised your phone to your face after feeling it buzz, biting your lip when you were aware of his name popping up at the top of your screen.

Sannie: Babe, did you watch the live? You didn't comment today...

You could imagine him pouting, with his lips pursed while he gave a lost kitten look to his screen. And he probably would've used his thinner voice if he had said that out loud directly to you.

Usually, you'd always leave a few comments. At first it started because you just liked teasing him, and seeing him getting nervous when your username showed up in the middle of the livestream. But it ended up being something he got used to, to the point of wondering if something happened to you if you didn't do it.

You: I did! But I was busy with work, so I just heard it while doing other things.

Sannie: Oh. Do you want me to go see you tomorrow better, then?

You: Nope, come here! You owe me a lot of cuddles

Sannie: I've only been away for a week...

You: Even a day is too much. Come here when you're done, pleaseeee.

San smiled when he looked at his screen, imagining your squared smile as you tried to convince him to go to your place for cuddles. Not like he needed much to be convinced, just the idea was convincing enough, but it was always cute to see him react like that -mainly because it was something you barely did.

"We're gonna order some food. Do you want anything?" Seonghwa's head peeked through his door.

San shook his head, not even trying to hide his playful smile as he got up from his chair "I'm going to Y/n's, so don't wait for me".

"Who's ever waited for you, any way?" Mingi teased, showing up in the corridor.

"I do" Seonghwa replied, looking back with an obvious expression.

Mingi rolled his eyes "He never leaves the house unless it's to see Y/n. And we know he never sleeps in when he goes to see her".

"Send a text when you get there" Seonghwa asked him, ignoring the boy behind him.

"And tell Y/n we said hi. You're gatekeeping her" Mingi complained, continuing his way to his room.

San simply smiled at that, pleased with the way all the members grew closer to you the longer your relationship went on. It always worried him that his friends and his significant other wouldn't get on well, but with you it was an automatic click.

Could be it was that you had that type of personality that molded into everyone else's easily, finding a bit of your humor and comfort in each one of the members. And while it sometimes made San jealous, deep inside he genuinely appreciated it.

You smiled widely when, after fifteen minutes, San knocked on your door with his arms opening big as soon as you stood in front of him. His arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you to his body and lifting you a few centimeters in the air before he was moving you back inside, kicking the door with his foot to close it.

"Did you shower?" after digging your nose in his neck, you could recognize the floral scent of his gel, which you loved.

Whenever that smell got into your system, your first reaction was to snuggle to him and hide your face on his chest. It really seemed like he got ready for those cuddles that night.

Not leaving you on the floor, but making you stand on your tiptoes over his feet -only covered with his white socks-, he started walking through the short corridor. "Yup, we had a schedule today. And I didn't want to go around all sweated" he tilted his head. "By the way, the boys say hi".

"It's been a while since I last saw them" you sighed. "Are you gatekeeping them from me?".

San rolled his eyes at that question, confirming that, in fact, you did spend too much time with them all during that year and a half.

"No, I'm gatekeeping you from them" he replied, stealing a peck from you. "Now seriously, we could plan something for the next time you're free" he suggested, stopping in the middle of your living room.

"Sure" you nodded, tapping his biceps so he'd finally let you stand on the floor again. "I'll prepare some snacks, why don't you look for something to watch".

His hands carefully put you back on the floor, while his lips were together as he saw your body disappearing behind the white door to your kitchen. He groaned, slowly taking a seat on the couch, resting his head over the backrest for a few seconds.

When he looked to his left, he could see that small surprise you prepared for him two weeks back, unable to control his thoughts as he remembered the weekend you spent together, barely moving from that corner before he left for the festival.

It was the physical reminiscence of how lucky he was to have you.

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, having him lifting his head to look at it for a quick second before he went back to the relaxed position.

Until it finally hit him. He forgot his back in the dorm, which meant Seonghwa would be ranting at him for not announcing he arrived well, and for being careless enough to leave the house without the cell.

"Love, can I send a message through your phone? I left mine at the dorm".

"Sure" you mentioned, still places all the gummies and the cookies on a plate. "No, wait-" it was the only thing you were able to say when realization hit you.

Although you ran as fast as you could, it was already too late. Peeking over San's shoulder, you could see that he wasn't in your chats, but scrolling down a really different page. His first idea was to send the text and move on, but the notification at the top caught his attention.

You never hid your fan side. He knew you were part of the fandom as soon as you started dating, even before, so it wasn't anything new for him to hear you using Twitter slang sometimes, and knowing about some things long before he did. But that day there was an app he didn't recognize, with an ask from an anonymous person seemingly freaking out after what happened in the livestream that took place some hours back.

Time to close it all now. San will expose us to the rest of the members and, like that one, several other posts.

"Give it to me" but San moved faster, getting up from the couch to move the phone away from you.

"San x Y/n?" he frowned, scrolling down your page through some of the most recent one-shots you had posted.

He looked over some of the details, smirking when he noticed you chose the pictures where he looked best to top the stories that would come under them.

"For your own sake, stop reading" you asked, finally snitching the phone from his hands and hiding it on your back.

"Since when do you write fanfics?".

"You mean about you, or in general?".

"There's been others?" his eyebrows raised, but you could tell by the way he was smiling that he was just mocking you for your reaction. "Why are you so embarrassed? It's probably cute".

"No, it's not" you assured, scoffing after that confirmation.

"What? You paint me like a douchebag or something? Are they sad stories?" his head tilted to the side, with his smirk slowly dropping at that idea.

"No, they're actually fun for the people that read them" you muttered.

"I won't judge you. Honestly, if this is important for you, I want to know what it is".

Ever since you started dating there was nothing that he liked more than learning things about you, and adding them to his life just to make you happy. If you liked a cake with a certain flavor, he'd always manage to have it for any celebration you two made. If you liked one song in particular, he'd learn it and sign it to you, or add it to his playlist so you'd listen to it when you're together. Every small detail counted for him, and whatever it was you were hiding on your back was no different from all those things.

"They aren't sad stories. Cute neither" you nervously stated.

"Horror stories, then?" he frowned.

You shook his head, handing the phone to him "They're... explicit" you summed up.

San looked confused when he took your phone, clicking over one of the short stories. Seeing the warning in red had him gulping thick "dom!San, choking, spitting, rough sex...", eyeing you up quickly before he looked down at your screen again.

It was weird to read about himself in that context, never thinking he'd end up doing it, and even less because it came from you. When he found out earlier that evening that fans were writing that type of content, he wasn't entirely surprised, but it didn't cross his mind the idea of you being part of that niche. However, there he was, supporting his weight on his lower back -which was laying against the backrest of the thick armchair in front of your couch- while he read through one of the stories.

His heart pumped against his chest, a bit harder with every line he read. Every description, every detail, everything was so realistic yet seemed so unreal at the same time. He could almost touch the sexual tension between the two characters, before the San of the fanfic forced the main character into a rough sloppy kiss that almost made his knees tremble.

He could feel your eyes on him. And the only thing he was hoping for is that it wasn't as evident how much he liked what he was reading, while he hawked when his throat went suddenly dry at the roughness that was represented in the fanfic.

"I can delete it all" you assured him. "I will..."

"Do you like this?" he interrupted you, finally lifting his gaze to yours. "Are you into being treated like that?".

"Well, I don't know" you hesitated, confused by his question. "It's just fiction" you shrugged, stepping towards him.

"No, Y/n. Be honest. Do you think our sex boring?".

Fiction sex was blatantly different from your real sex. On fiction sex you were able to dig on those kinks you didn't know you had, but that had your whole body burning just at the thought of doing them with San. While real sex was just you two, loving each other.

"What? No" you stepped towards him, cupping his face with your hands. "They're just dumb stories I write when I'm bored".

"Or when you're horny" he muttered.

"Look, they're just fantasies, that I didn't even try. I like the idea of them, because I think it'd be hot, but that's it"

"Why didn't you tell me you liked that?"

"Because I don't want you to feel uncomfortable with it".

Despite his looks, San was the most gentle and careful person you had ever met. He'd stop the whole thing if something that he thought would hurt you or bother you happened, and you appreciated that. You loved the way he looked after you in every single aspect of your relationship. That was why you never mentioned the idea of having him spanking you, and even less choking you through sex. It'd be crossing a limit for him, and just like San took care of you when you had sex, you wanted to take care of him.

"So you do want to try it?" he asked, lifting one of his eyebrows.

After licking your lips, and softly pressing them, you ended up nodding shyly, lowering your gaze to your feet.

Something about that story didn't allow him to think straight. Maybe it was the way he could imagine you squirming and twisting with pleasure, or how loud and desperate your moans would sound -when usually they were little whispers you gifted to his ear. Or could be it was the slightest glimpse of jealousy he felt over the San in the fan fiction, who was able to pleasure his girlfriend better than he did.

He didn't give you time to react, holding your wrist before he dragged you to your bedroom. You had no time to process anything that was happening, before he made you turn on your feet and make your lips collide. San was demanding, moving your lips over yours, not giving you any other choice than trying to keep up with his pace as he held your neck with his two hands, slightly letting his fingertips dent on your skin.

A moan burned your throat when his tongue sneakily moved between your lips, meeting yours for a brief second before he was dominating the way they twirled, having your core begging for him in a matter of seconds.

He left you hanging in the middle of a fast breath, turning you around so your back was stuck to his hard chest. His hands traced the curve of your waist, with your knees trembling at the soft touch as his fingers kept moving up, taking with them the thin fabric of your old t-shirt. Once the piece of clothing was gone, his palms covered your exposed breasts, making your back arch almost perfectly.

There was something so strange at being controlled that way, or feeling like you didn't have to worry about anything because San knew perfectly what to do. And you loved it. You could feel the pool in your panties as time went by slowly, and the way your heart raced in your chest when his fingers pinched your nipples before he went back to pressing your tits with his palms.

"Did you ever touch yourself thinking about this, hmm?" his voice sounded unrecognizable. It was harsh and raspy, making its way to your guts and clicking to one part of your brain that almost made you moan the answer.

San didn't know if he wanted to know. He could understand you touching yourself because he was away, but because he wasn't pleasuring you like he should? He couldn't deal with that.

He didn't let you answer. As he saw the way you gulped and took a deep breath to let him know, his hand flew to your covered pussy, sliding his fingers over it until it was completely covered by his palm.

You desperately seeked for his lips, this time starting the sloppy kiss. Trying to keep your balance while standing on your tiptoes, while your head went in circles was suddenly the most difficult task.

Although you knew San had you.

He grinded against you, letting you feel his growing bulge against your ass while his hand slipped inside your panties. He wasn't able to hold back the moan when your wetness coated his fingers as soon as he slid them through your slit, just being able to think of how good his cock would slip in and out of you with barely any effort.

"Can you feel how hard you made me, babe?" the circles on your clit were barely leaving any room for your brain cells to work properly, although you were still able to pick up some of the things he said. "Time for you to do something about it, right?"

Your hips collided against the headboard with every deep thrust he made, making you feel completely trapped between the wall and his body, thinking that probably your pain senses were too fucked by pleasure to be able to feel hurt at the way it kept bouncing against the hard surface.

San enrolled his fingers on your jaw, moving your head up slightly to give your back the perfect curvature, so your pubic bone would come up against the bottom of his cock and giving his thrusts the perfect angle so his tip would end up rubbing against that spot that had you whimpering and grinding against him in a matter of seconds.

"All this time wanting to try this, and you're barely able to take it" he groaned, with a shaky voice due to the power of each one of his movements.

All the times you thought of being in that situation, San was harsh, he was animalistic, just like he was being in that moment. But you didn't count with the extra threat that were his hips. You should've known better than pushing a dancer, mastered in body rolls and hip thrusts, to his limits. He found the best position for him, having you completely caged so his only worry would be pounding in and out of you, concentrating on the killing move of his hips, letting you feel all of him inside of you, but also making your skin clap every time.

You scratched your thighs, having nothing else to your reach as your head was held up "Please" you moaned. You don't know what you were begging for. Pleasure just felt a little bit too much to contain it for any longer, you just wanted it to blow and have it leaving your system.

"Please what?" San forced your body a bit higher, sinking his teeth on your collarbone. "Use full sentences, babe".

"Please, don't stop" you begged, your voice cracked in need.

He wasn't going to stop. And even less after seeing you like that. There was nothing that could make him prouder than seeing you being a mumbling mess for his cock, sure that he was closer to losing himself completely to his most basic instincts just to have you looking like that for the rest of the night.

The echo of the slap made you squirm rather than the itch that his palm left after it, making your pussy instantly clench around him, with your walls closing tight around him as if you didn't want him to leave you empty ever again.

"You take me so fucking good" he hoarsed, circling your swollen clit with two of his fingers.

With his eyes fixed on you the whole time, he was able to tell the exact moment you were going to cum. He saw that spark in your eyes, momentary and fast, but strong enough for him to see it before your eyes went blank with a long moan, that sounded in sync with the way your legs trembled and your body convulsed on his.

He wanted to drink the last drop of your high, moving your neck so your face would be towards him, taking your lips in his with freedom while you blindly followed his moves, weakly sucking on his lower lip.

At that point you could only feel the way San moved on the mattress, dragging your body along with his until the two of you were kneeling in the middle of the bed. Although he tried to let go of that caring side to please you, you could sense it was still there, taking over him for a brief moment as he made you roll on the bed and lie on your back, carefully to not hurt you, and making sure at all times that you were okay.

One of his hands rested on your stomach, caressing the spot between your belly button and your pubes as he waited for you to recover. When you looked up to him, you felt so small... San was big, but that night he felt twice his size. The way he looked at you, brushing his hair back to expose some of the sweat drops that stopped right on his eyebrows, giving you what you had named as his "stage gaze" had your pussy throbbing again.

Your body squirmed when he leaned over, moving his tongue over your clit to steal a whine from you before he sucked on the bundle of nerves.

He swore one day he'd be completely addicted to your taste.

San slipped his full length back again, only warning you with his tip pressing on your entrance before he was stretching you out in that new position. He was completely lost in the way you looked, eyebrows slightly furrowed, lips parted as you weren't able to breath through your nose anymore, and tits bouncing with every thrust he made. Only to go feral when he lowered his eyes a bit more to find his cock covered in your arousal whenever he moved it out, hiding himself in your walls not even a mini second after. Whole shaft was shiny with your juices, with some white thicker cream on the base.

"The mess you made on my cock..." he scoffed, squeezing your flesh. "My girl does love to be treated like a hole meant to be used by me only, hmm?".

At the lack of response from you, other than the way your fists closed on the sheets and some of the whimpers you tried to keep hidden in your mouth by pressing your lips together, San moved his fingers around your throat again. His digits' pressure on your skin tightened with every thrust, giving you one thin line that allowed air to make it to your lungs. His left hand kept you glued to the bed, that squeaked under you a little bit louder as time went by, while his other hand hooked around your knee, keeping it as high and spread as possible.

The eye contact, the grunts, and his cock rubbing deliciously on your walls... All of it was the perfect mix for a ticking bomb in your guts that started a countdown to wipe everything out.

"Are you going to cum again for me?" he teased, recognizing that spark in your eyes again. "Let go, babe. Cum around me".

He combined those words with the twirls the fingers on his right hand were doing on your clit, feeling it throb on his digits before you reached your orgasm with a loud moan, arching your back in a way he thought it would break.

"Come here and make me cum now, love"

You crawled on the mattress to where he was, smirking at him as you took the condom off. He growled over you when your lips wrapped around him, barely giving him any time to get used to the subtle breeze in your room before he was feeling warm again. Your head bombed fast, eager to feel the way his cock twitched against your tongue when you least expected, while your hand matched the movements of your mouth.

San guided the way your head moved, with his fingers grasping on some of the lock of your head to move you a bit faster, while his hips just buckled against your mouth. He just needed one last flick of your tongue on one of his veins, and he was already spilling his seed in your mouth with a deep moan.

You still licked him off for a bit more, cleaning him completely, until there was no trace of everything you had done.

"Spit it here" he hollowed his hand at the height of your lips.

You bit your lower lip, moving your body to be on the same height as he was and confront that confused expression he was giving you.

"I swallowed it" the pride and playfulness in your voice made him smile, and break character almost instantly.

He moved right after you did, placing his hands on your hips while your arms wrapped around his neck.

"Was it better than fiction?" his head tilted as he asked that question.

"It was better than fiction" you admitted, playing with the sweaty locks on his nape. "Did you like it, too?".

San nodded, curving his lips slightly "More than expected, actually".

Before you could smile widely in relief, your boyfriend leaned over to kiss you, gently and caring, moving his lips sweetly over yours to get rid of any drop of his saltiness. "Let's clean ourselves, and let me give you those cuddles you were asking for earlier, alright?".

San helped you move out of bed first, holding your hand carefully so you wouldn't fall, joining in front of you right after. He stopped midway, having you looking at him confused. "Let me tell Seonghwa I arrived well. I forgot to send him the text".

"Go, I'll wait for you in the shower"

As he stepped away from you and turned around, you couldn't help yourself. Your palm smacked against his ass, having him turning at you surprised, giving you an eye smile before he shook his head and made his way to the living room.

It was a good thing he found out about fanfiction after all.

#armpirate #ff #smut #one shot #reader insert #san #choi san #san smut #ateez #choisanxreader #sanxreader #ateez smut #choi san smut #sanxreader scenarios #ateez scenarios #choi san scenarios #soft #idol!au #idol!san

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thetriumphantpanda · 7 months

Text

Come Away With Me | Joel & Tommy Miller (Friday)

Summary | Your last day alone with Joel should mean you spend it tangled up together, making the most of those last moments you have alone with him. But there are doubts creeping into his mind about what's best and things truly do come to a head.

Word Count | 5.9K

Chapter Warnings | I cannot stress this enough - ANGST. Joel is a little mean in this one but makes up for it I promise. Consumption of food, explicit smut, rough sex, possessive sex, unprotected PiV sex, oral sex (f) receiving, squirting, creampie, dirty talk, breeding kink, the briefest slice of daddy kink.

Authors Note | Well, this was hell of a rollercoaster, wasn't it? Sorry for the sheer spectrum of emotions I'm about to put you through, I can only apologise. I wanted to give a HUGE shoutout to @cupofjoel for letting me brainstorm the ideas for this chapter. Her love for these characters is inspirational and I am so grateful she helped me with these ideas. And thank you to each and every one of you that continues to support this story and who love Joel, Pretty Girl and Tommy as much as I do. If you enjoy this, please consider commenting, reblogging or coming into my ask box to scream with me. And, as always, If you want to support me, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.

A reminder that I no longer use taglists - to keep up with my writing, please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs and turn on notifications to keep up to date.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

The sun is only just starting to rise when Joel wakes the next morning. There’s very little light draining in through the curtains, but he can make your face out perfectly. He thinks if he were to ever go blind, he would have looked at you so much that your face would be permanently burnt onto his brain. He can make out the curve of your cheek, the way your lips are relaxed, and the way you inhale through your nose and blow out the air through your mouth. Not snoring, per se, just another one of your quirks that he loves. Loves just like the rest of you.

He's suspected for a while now that you felt the same as he did, that your feelings for him moved beyond the love you should have for him as your brother-in-law, that you loved him with just as much passion and ferocity that he loved you with, and that was dangerous. He tries to tell himself that it’ll be okay, that when Tommy turns up tomorrow with Joshua, he’ll slink back to the shadows, become Uncle Joel again, and only have you when he has to have you, when he buries himself inside you under the watchful eye of his brother and tries to give you another baby, but he knows it’s futile. He’s never going to be satisfied again.

He drags a frustrated hand over his face, pulse pounding behind his eyes. He wants to roll over, drag your warm body into his and never let you go, wants to keep you here forever, but he knows he can’t be that selfish, so instead, he gently pushes himself up from the bed, lower back screaming at him as he does. He’s behaved liked a horny teenager this whole week, pretending that this bubble of you and him is what real life is like, and not only is he going to pay for it with a broken heart, but he’s also paying for it with real aches and pains shooting through his aging body.

He drags on some clothes, leaves you sleeping soundly in bed, makes a pot of coffee and takes himself outside. He goes to sit down on the bench near the fire pit, but he’s reminded of his confession of a few nights ago. The one where he admitted he fucks another woman but can’t bear to fuck her on her back, because she’s not you. She doesn’t sound like you, but when he’s got her on all fours and he closes his eyes, he can just about convince himself that his cock is dragging in and out of your pussy instead. She’s a nice woman, he doesn’t deny it, and he knows he’s fucking her over by keeping her hanging. He makes a mental note to call her when he gets back and call things off.

His feet take him to the water’s edge, where he thinks back to yesterday, pressing you against that wood of the jetty, fucking into you, even though he knows you were sore, because you were just that desperate for him, that desperate for another child. He almost walks away to find somewhere else to sit, but then realises this entire fucking place is just full of the memories of him and you, he’s not going to find somewhere that you don’t permeate his thoughts.

He sits on the gravel of the shore, listening as the wind brings gentle waves of the lake crashing near him. The warmth of the coffee mug is burning into his skin, but he doesn’t move to set it down – the pain reminds him that he’s alive, that he can feel things. He just doesn’t know what to do with it.

He thinks about Tommy. About how he trusted him with this sacred thing, with holding and touching his wife to give them a family, to give them their dream, and how he took that trust in his hand and fucking crumbled it to dust, falling in love with her and letting her fall in love with him. He thinks it’s kind of poetic really, because ever since they were boys, growing up in Texas with their parents, they’ve shared mostly everything. Bedrooms, cars, the weight of their parent’s dying, looking after Sarah when she was younger and her mom had left, and they’d done it without falling out, without ruining their relationship. Now, the one thing they really shouldn’t have shared is going to change it all. He’s convinced when Tommy see’s the two of them he’s going to know something has changed, he’s going to be angry, he’s going to take you back for himself and that’ll be it, so he has to do it first. Joel cannot lose his brother, cannot lose this part of his family that means so much to him.

Despite you saying you could fix it, that you had a plan, that he would trust you, he just cannot see it, cannot see a way where someone doesn’t get hurt. He’s the big brother here, the one who should be sensible, so he knows this is it. He’ll give you this baby and that’ll be it, because if he continues to cash in this one night he gets to have with you a year, he’s only going to end up hurting you both, hanging on to this hope that maybe, one day, he’ll have more. He has to be the bigger man, so no matter how much it’s going to hurt, he’s got to give you up.

When you wake, much like yesterday morning, you’re alone. You reach over to the empty side of the bed, arms under the covers, but unlike yesterday, Joel’s side of the bed is cold, which means he’s been awake for much longer than he had been yesterday. You roll onto your back, listening out for any sign of him, the padding of his feet in the kitchen, the sound of the shower in the bathroom, but it’s silent, save for the rustling of the trees in the wind from outside.

You lie there, staring up at the ceiling, thinking back to last night. To the way you’d opened your heart to him, finally. God, you loved him something fierce. Loved him in a way that made you hurt. You finally said it out loud, spoke the love you felt to him into existence. Whenever you’ve said it before, you could almost convince yourself that it was the kind of love it should have been, familial and warm, but there was no denying it anymore. This love was like fire, burning inside you, threatening to burn out of control if you didn’t do something about it.

Joel had placed his heart in your hands, asked you not to break his heart, and by God you were going to try and keep it whole. Cradle it in your hands, nurture it, keep it safe. The plan was tenuous at best and you knew it, but Tommy needed to know. You had to tell him. You would, before this week was out, you were going to fix this.

You had one more day though, one more day of being wrapped up with Joel, and you’d be damned if you were going to waste it. You drag yourself out of bed, picking out some comfortable clothes – one of Joel’s t-shirts that smells like him, and your sweatpants. You head to the kitchen, there’s still no sign of Joel. You pour yourself a cup of coffee from the pot, tip some creamer into it, when you spot him.

He's stood at the edge of the water, skimming stones across the lake. His broad frame sticking out against the foliage and the water. Almost like he can sense you’re watching him, he turns around. You smile over the lip of your coffee mug, raising a hand to wave at him, but he doesn’t wave back, just turns back around and continues skimming stones across the water.

It hurts, the cold shoulder he gives you. After spilling your hearts to one another last night, the way he fucked you like you were the last person on earth and your time was running out, and now this? You suck in a deep breath, damping down the flare of anger that spreads through you. He doesn’t get to do this, you think, not now, not today. You finish your coffee, eyes still trained on the way his back pulls and flexes as he throws his stones. Maybe he just needs time, is what you think, some space, where you aren’t constantly crowding him, constantly in his presence.

You settle on the couch, TV playing low for background noise as you try and focus on the book you’re reading. You think you lie there for hours, watching the sun move across the sky, but he still doesn’t come to you.

Your stomach growls and you think if you’re hungry, he must be as well, so you make BLT sandwiches, his favourite, and you take them down to the shore where he’s just sitting, looking out onto the water. You sit down next to him, close enough that he could reach out and touch you, but with enough distance to not crowd his space. You hand the plate to him, and thankfully he takes it, setting it between his feet, picking up one half of the sandwich to start eating.

It's silent except for the sound of you both eating and for the first time ever, it’s a little awkward. Not the usual, comfortable silence where neither of you have anything to say but are content to just be in each other’s company. You both have plenty to say to each other and you both know it as well, but neither of you want to make the first move.

“You alright?” You ask softly, deciding it’s better to just get this over and done with.

His response is short, “I’m fine.”

You sigh, frustration bubbling under your skin, “You certainly don’t seem fine.”

“I’m just tryin’ to do the right thing.” He won’t look at you, eyes continuing to face to water.

“The right thing,” You scoff, shaking your head, “What happened to trusting me?”

He’s quiet for a moment and you’re sure if you listened hard enough you could hear his brain working to come up with his answer, “It just ain’t right,” He speaks quietly, “You ain’t mine to keep.”

“You’ve changed your tune,” You hiss, “I hate to break it to you Joel, but that isn’t just your decision to make, there’s two of us here.”

“I’m tryin’ to make it easier, make sure no-one gets hurt.”

“You’re hurting me right now,” You point out, because he is, this distance is cleaving you in two, “And you’re going to hurt yourself too,” You reach out and touch his arm with your hand, glad that he doesn’t flinch away from you, “The only person who doesn’t get hurt is Tommy if you keep going like this.”

“You’ll be okay though,” He mumbles, placing his big hand over your own on his arm, “He’s good to you, you’ve got your family, you don’t need me.”

“Stop it!” You wail, “Don’t say that about yourself,” Lifting yourself to your knees next to him, hand on his shoulder to try and get him to look at you, “I will always need you Joel, do you understand me?” You grab his chin in your hand, tugging him to look at you, his eyes just as glassy as your own, “Why are you doing this?”

“What’s your master plan, huh?” He asks, suddenly talking louder, more commanding, “You gonna ask him to share you? Let his brother have you whenever he wants? That how you’re gonna fix this?”

“Don’t fucking patronise me,” You accuse, pushing him with your hands, using the momentum so you can stand, “You promised to trust me Joel, promised me you’d let me fix this, what happened to that?”

“I just don’t see how we could ever fix this.”

“You’re unbelievable,” You spit, “For once in your life could you stand to make yourself happy?!”

“Not if it means hurtin’ Tommy,” He shakes his head, “Should never’a let ourselves get so caught up in this.”

“Joel, stop it,” You’re crying now, because it sounds like he’s telling you this is it, that he’s through, that it’s been a mistake, that he regrets it, and you can’t bear that, he’s standing up now too, towering over you, “I love you, doesn’t that mean anything?”

“Of course it does,” He murmurs, “I love you too, but it was never meant to happen like this, we were never meant to love each other this much.”

“So that’s it, we break our hearts because you’re scared to ask for what you want?” You sniffle, trying to dampen down your tears, keep things together, “Scared to let me fight for us?”

“There ain’t no way any good is going to come from this.” He motions his hand between the two of you.

It’s like a punch to the gut when the words leave his mouth, because it’s a total lie. Your beautiful son came from this. The happiest years of your life came from this, and you’re pretty sure Joel’s happiest years came from this too.

“So that’s it then?”

He doesn’t answer this time, just shakes his head and sighs, moving to turn away from you, so you swivel on your heel, rubbing your hands furiously over your cheeks to wipe away your tears. You make sure to slam the door to the lodge behind you, sure that Joel can hear your anger. You walk straight through the lodge and into the bedroom, throwing yourself down on the bed, face planted in his pillow.

You wrap your arms around it, taking in a single deep breath of his scent before you scream into the pillow, sobs soon following as you let out your frustration and anger and heartbreak. Why did life have to do this to you? Why did it have to throw you down this path, desperate to have a family with a man who simply couldn’t? In this moment you curse Tommy for suggesting this whole stupid fucking arrangement and for being so kind and understanding and only ever wanting to make you and his brother happy. Curse your own heart for being so easy to fall, eager to love, and you curse Joel Miller for taking that easy and eager heart and being reckless with it. He asked you not to break his heart, yet here he is breaking yours.

Joel knew almost immediately he’d fucked up. The way your bottom lip had wobbled as you turned to walk away from him, the way you slammed the door, and the way that two hours later, when the wind was too cold and he walked back to the lodge, he could still hear you crying in the bedroom. What a fucking mess he’s caused. Trying his best to not hurt anyone, and here you are, crying into a pillow because of him.

He’d wanted nothing more than to push that door open, get down on his hands and knees and beg for your forgiveness. Take your hands in his and pray for you to forgive him. He stays in the living room, thumbing through the book you’d been reading, watching some random sports game on the tv, until he couldn’t hear you crying anymore. He’s panicking, can feel that familiar tightness in his chest at the mess he’s made, not quite sure what to do. His brain is telling him to stay where he is, to stick to the plan – it hurts now, but maybe tomorrow when Tommy and Joshua arrive, and Sarah is here, it won’t seem so bad. On the other hand though, his heart is telling him to move, to go to you, scoop you into his arms and make it all better.

Joel Miller is a weak man where you’re concerned, and he cannot bear the hurt he’s caused, can’t stand that he’s the reason you’ve spent that last day you could have had together in tears, shut in the bedroom because he pushed you away. He stands, brain going into fix-it mode. He toasts some bread, spreads a thick layer of butter on it and covers it in jam, just like he knows you like it. He makes you a cup of tea with a splash of milk. Steeling himself outside the door, he taps his foot to it, mainly to let you know he’s coming in rather than looking for permission to enter.

The room is faintly lit by the bedside lamp on your side of the room. You’re led on the bed, curled into a tight ball on one side. He’d have thought you were sleeping if he didn’t know you better – if he didn’t know exactly how you slept – the exact cadence of your breathing and the way your body went lax when you finally nodded off. You’re facing away from him when as he walks over, places the steaming mug and the plate of food next to the lamp. He sits down on the edge of the bed, reaching over to grip your wrist, pulling you up like a ragdoll and into his arms. You’re a dead weight as he wraps your arms around his neck, his own resting around your back as he nuzzles his face into the warmth of your neck.

He can’t look at you right now, knows it’ll break his heart, but he revels in the way that you tighten your arms around him. That’s a good first step, he thinks. He lets his lips press softly to the delicate skin of your neck, not in a way that it usually does when he’s trying to turn you on though.

“I’m so sorry, pretty girl.” Is all he can really think to say in this moment, but it’s poor, and he knows it.

He pulls away from you slightly, glancing at your face as he does. He was right, it does break his heart. The skin of your face is blotchy from the tears you’ve cried, eyes red and bloodshot, you look exhausted, and the heaviness in your bones is testament to that. He reaches over and picks up the steaming mug, holding it out to you as a sort of peace offering. You take it in your hands, blowing the steam away lightly before taking a sip, hissing when the hot liquid burns down your throat.

In any other circumstance, he’d laugh, press a kiss to the tip of your nose and tell you to be patient, but he’s likely going to get slapped if he tries to lighten the mood like that right now, so instead, he takes one of the slices of toast, cut into a triangle and holds it to your mouth.

You shake your head, “Not hungry.” Your voice is hoarse.

“Just a bite,” Joel implores, “I made it just how you like it.”

You don’t look at him, your eyes trained directly on the cup in your hand, but you nod lightly. His hand moves the slice of toast close enough to your mouth that all you need to do is lean forward and take a bite, which you do. He watches as you chew and then swallow and is quietly relieved when you lean forward and take another bite. He doesn’t force the other slice on you, leaves it where it is so you can have it if you want it. Instead, he lets his hand drop to your knee, warm and comforting as you sip at the tea again.

You set it down on the nightstand, finally accepting it’s too hot right now, and Joel is surprised when you turn and throw your arms around his neck, burying your face into his shoulder, crying once again.

“Oh pretty girl,” He coos, one hand resting at the nape of your neck to keep you anchored to him, the other around your lower back, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

He’s rocking you back and forth, gently, trying to soothe you as you cry into him, fighting back his own tears as well. He can hear you mumbling something into his shoulder, but he can’t make out what it is.

He gently pushes you forward, “What was that, baby?”

You shake your head, sniffle again, as a fresh wave of tears start falling, but you manage to get out what he had missed you saying earlier, before you’re falling back into the comfort of his shoulder, “I love you so much, Joel.”

His hand is resting on the back of your head as you hold onto him tight, “I know, pretty girl, I love you too,” He dips down, lips pressed to the top of your head, “I’m so sorry,” He speaks again, “Please forgive me.”

You pull back from him, moving to wipe your tears away, but Joel moves quicker, palms resting on your cheeks as his thumbs brush away the drops from your face. He’s looking at you now, his beautiful, sad eyes, trained on your own, “Do you regret it?” You ask quietly.

He shakes his head, “Of course not, baby,” He leans forward, kissing your cheek softly, “I could never.”

You try and shake your head, but his hands are keeping your face still, “Then w-why,” You falter a little, hiccupping over your words, “Why d-did you say n-nothing good could come of t-this?”

He swallows, because he was wrong. So fucking wrong to say that, to say anything that he said to you earlier. He was frustrated but most of all he was scared, and he hurt you and now he’s not sure he can actually salvage this.

“I was scared, pretty girl,” Joel admits, “I’m scared of how much I love you and what would happen if I can’t have you anymore, and I thought it would be easier, y’know? Easier if I just tried to pull away, get you back where you belong with Tommy, but I didn’t mean it, I promise I didn’t mean it.”

“We made a baby,” You sniffle, “He’s something good.”

“Oh, pretty girl, you’re breakin’ my heart,” Joel sighs, God he wants to make this better somehow, “Everythin’ about this is good, I’m just a mean old man sometimes.”

Your hands are circling his wrists now, anchoring yourself to him, your eyes looking straight into his own, like you’re searching his very soul for any ounce of regret. He’s hoping you’ll see the truth, that he doesn’t regret this relationship with you, only his words from earlier.

“Will you let me fix this?” You ask, “Will you let me speak to Tommy?”

“If you think it’ll help, pretty girl, I’ll let you do anythin’.”

You seem satisfied with his answer, because all of a sudden, you’re surging forward and kissing him. Lips soft and gentle against his as he presses his hands into your face a little harder, just to make sure you’re real, that this is what you want. You open your mouth against his, letting your tongue into his mouth, his working against your own as you let out a throaty moan, swallowing it down into his own mouth as he shifts you both, laying you down onto the sheets on your back.

“You gonna let me make it up to you, pretty girl?” He murmurs, pulling back just a touch from your mouth, “Gonna let me show you how sorry I am?”

You nod, but he doesn’t move, he’s waiting for your permission, “Please,” You whine, lifting your hips into his, feeling him already semi-hard in his pants, “Make me feel good Joel.”

So he does. He reaches his warm hands under his shirt that you're wearing, pulling it up and over your head. Your chest is bare underneath it, you didn’t bother with a bra today, mainly because you’d imagined you’d be spending most of it naked anyway. He trails his hot mouth down from your neck, kissing the skin between the valley of your tits, before he’s sucking one into his mouth. Your fingers tangle into his curls, keeping his head right there as he flicks your nipple with the tip of his tongue, pulling it into a stiff peak before he lavishes it with the attention of the flat of his tongue. He pulls his mouth from you, switching sides to your other breast – callused thumb working the nipple from before as he gives the same attention to this one, all whilst you’re grinding your hips up into him, friction causing a pool of wetness to gather between your thighs.

Once he feels like he’s worked you up enough here, he pulls away, wrapping his hands around your wrists to drag your hands to your tits. He settles your hands on them, looking up at you through hooded eyes as he drags his tongue over the skin of your tummy, “Play with them,” He demands, “Use your fingers on those perfect tits whilst I eat your pussy, pretty girl.”

You do as you’re told, rolling your nipples between your thumb and pointer finger as he drags your sweatpants off your legs. You spread your own legs for him as he settles between you, his mouth licking gently over your folds, before he’s using two fingers to spread the lips of your pussy, baring your aching cunt to his face.

“Dripping fuckin’ wet for me already, darlin’,” He growls, biting into the soft skin of your thigh, sucking to leave a mark, “Always so fuckin’ eager for my cock, ain’t ya?”

Fuck, you love it when he’s like this. When his need to fuck you, to mark you, takes over, when he’s possessive with you, when he’s rough with you. When he uses his mouth and teeth to mark you as his own, even if you’re not, not really, not fully.

You buck your hips into his face, silently begging for him to make you feel good. He splays a wide palm over your tummy, pressing you down into the mattress to keep you still, as his warm tongue slips inside your hole, licking the slick that’s been gathering there for him. You get off on this, the way he laps at you, tasting you, groaning into you like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted. He drags that perfect tongue all the way up your pussy, giving one singular flick to your clit with the tip of his tongue before he’s plunging two of his fingers into your cunt. You arch your back off the bed, crying out as he fucks you with his fingers, tip of his tongue teasingly flicking against that bundle of nerves. He’s rough with it, the way his fingers pound into you, but you don’t care. Let it hurt, is what you think, let me carry this delicious pain and ache with me for days so I can remember him like this.

He's pushing you so fast towards that edge. That knot that is pulled so tight inside you threatening to push you over the edge as he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks.

“Oh fuck!” You exclaim, hands squeezing at your tits, “Joel, I’m-” You let out a high-pitched squeal, muscles clenching around his fingers, “Gonna come.”

He doesn’t bother to respond to you, just carries on exactly as he is until you’re literally screaming his name into the room. You push down onto his fingers and finally feel that tight rope snap inside of you, pleasure bursting at the base of your spine, throttling through the rest of your body like wildfire. You’re half aware of the fact you’re soaking the sheets as you continue to writhe your hips against his mouth. He’s pulling away from you, slipping his fingers from you, chuckling in that way that he does when he’s proud of himself.

“Fuckin’ love when you squirt for me, pretty girl,” He growls against the skin of your tummy as he trails his mouth back up your body, he’s pushing the two fingers he had inside you past your lips when he’s level with your face, smirking as you clean yourself off him, “Gonna let me fuck you now?” He asks, you moan in response around his fingers, “Gonna fuck you so good, pretty girl, give you all the babies you want.”

He pulls back enough to drag his shirt over his head, throwing it somewhere behind him, pushing his own sweatpants down his legs, kicking them off to the bottom of the bed, letting his throbbing cock free. He’s settling between your thighs, your own hand reaching down to grip him, guiding him to your aching cunt. He swats your hand away, hands gripping the headboard above you as he pushes into you.

You let out a gasp as he buries himself inside you to the hilt. He never fails to take your breath away when he’s inside you, slotting into you perfectly, stretching you just right. You’re so full of him, his body crowding over you from above as he starts dragging himself in and out of you. It’s rough, and it’s fast, he’s desperately trying to tell you that he’s sorry, that he’s built just for this, put on this earth to give you everything you wanted whilst making you feel good.

“I can’t,” Joel chokes out, “I can’t be gentle with you, pretty girl.”

You know, because he’s splitting you right open down the middle, both hands gripping the headboard as his hips slam into yours. He’s so fucking deep, his cock punching right into the depths of you. Your hands, settled on his sides, grind into his skin, nails digging in so hard you’re sure you’re going to puncture his skin, draw blood.

“D-don’t care Joel,” You manage to speak, before a particularly loud wail leaves your mouth, “Just… don’t fucking stop.”

And he doesn’t. Looking up at him, he’s like a man possessed. He’s fucking you so hard, so good, that you’re crying, tears of mixed pleasure and pain rolling down your cheeks as he tries to prove how sorry he really is, how much he regrets what he did, what he’s said. He was a fool to think he could get away with his attitude, and he will stay here, cock buried inside you for as long as he must to prove his remorse to you.

His low, rough grunts are mixing with your needy moans. He drops down, body pressed right to yours. He finds your hands at his sides, brings them up above your head, his fingers tangled in your own as his mouth bites and sucks at the skin of your neck, along your collarbone, leaving marks across your perfect skin, marking you as his own.

“You my good girl?” He rasps into your ear, breath hot against you as he uses his tongue to literally lick the salty tears from your face, “Cryin’ on my cock like a good girl, huh?”

“A-always Joel,” You mewl as he shifts your bodies slightly, his cock brushing against that spot inside you, making you cry out, “Always your good girl.”

“I know you are, pretty girl,” He grunts into your ear, “Mine, aren’t you?”

And you agree, because fuck it, you are. You are his. You’ve been his since the first time he knelt between your legs and asked Tommy how you liked it. You might be Tommy’s girl first, but you’re just as much Joel’s as you are Tommy’s. They both lay claim to you, both own you in some way, and you’re perfectly okay with that.

“Fuck, Joel,” You hiss quietly, turning your head so your cheek is pressed against his where he’s settled his face in the crook of his neck, “Please,” You beg, “Please come inside me.”

“You want me to fill you up, mama?” He asks, hips still bruising against yours, the slap of his skin on yours, the wet squelch of your pussy around him filling the room.

“Give me my baby, daddy,” You almost whisper to him, hands squeezing his where they’re still entwined above your head, “Let go for me, Joel.”

He pulls out of you abruptly, manhandling you with a roughness you’re not used to so you’re on your front. His hands pull at your hips, angling your ass up for him as he’s pounding straight back into you. He’s gathered your hands at the small of your back, your face pressed into the mattress. This new angle mean’s he’s driving into you in a completely different way as before, and you have to push your face further into the sheets, so your screams are muffled. Joel doesn’t like that though, his drags his fingers through your hair, fisting it tightly, pulling you up, so your screams of pleasure are echoing around the room.

“Don’t you dare,” He growls, “Don’t you dare hide these sounds from me, pretty girl.”

This angle is new. Your hands are gathered in one of his at your back, his other hand tangled in your hair means you’re arched off the bed for him, and you think if you could reach a hand down, you’d be able to feel him in your stomach he’s so fucking deep inside you.

It happens all of a sudden, he’s so fucking still, but you can feel him pouring himself into you, you can hear him spitting your name and a string of profanities as he lets go of the tight grip he has on your hair. He’s buried so deep inside you, his front draped over your back, the entire weight of him on your body, but he’s trying to push himself deeper into you, trying to get what he’s just planted inside of you to take. He’s just as desperate as you are for this, to see you swell with his baby again.

Once his brain is working again, he slips from inside of you, collapsing onto the bed on his back, dragging you with him. He pulls you so close, his thighs spread wide so your body fits between them, your front pressed against his as you drape you entire self on him. He grabs your hands, bringing the wrists he was just gripping to his lips, kissing softly at the skin to soothe you.

“Too much?” He mumbles into the top of your head, his chest heaving against yours as you both try and catch your breath.

“Just enough.” You mumble back into the sweat-soaked skin of his chest.

It’s silent for a moment, both of you drifting in a haze of pleasure and exhaustion, but he speaks again as he wraps those arms around you, anchoring you right where you are, “I will spend the rest of my life proving how sorry I am to you.”

“I believe you,” You muse, “I will always believe you.”

And that’s how you both fall asleep, his arms cradling you to his body. He wishes that he could freeze time, enjoy this for longer than the few seconds he has before you fall asleep. He’s sick of your time always running out, of that ticking clock counting down to the unknown. He has no idea what’s going to happen once this weekend is over. Has no idea what you’re going to say to Tommy, what you’re going to propose to him. He’s never been good at relinquishing control, especially when he can’t for the life of him tell what’s going to happen. But, if there’s one thing he does know, it’s that what he said to you last night is true. That he trusts you with his life, and he will follow you blindly into whatever abyss you’re going to drag him into.

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munsonsprincess11111 · 8 days

Text

My girls perfect

Eddie munson x reader

Summary: you and Eddie are dating have been for a while. Your a cheerleader he's well... Eddie. So when thr jocks make a comment to try make you feel insecure to piss eddie off, Eddie doesn't let it slide easy.

During the school week you and Eddie sit together ever day but Friday. Whether it's just you two or with hellfire. However Friday was normally basketball day so you was needed being a cheerleader. Friday was also hellfire day which meant Eddie was obviously needed.

He would sit with hellfire. You'd sit with the jocks. It was like you didn't exist to eachother on Friday between 11 am to 8 pm. Neither of you minded ofcourse. You had your own things and lucky they fell on the same day. It had been that way for 2 years.

However something was different about this Friday. Eddie was sat at the hellfire table laughing and messing around. Well and annoying the jocks. But after his usual stand on thr table thing on Friday he always looms to you to se you smirk and give him a sarcastic eye roll. But you looked out of it. Like you didn't want to be there.

You starred at your tray didn't turn to look at Eddie. It's like you wasn't there. Eddie sat back down in his chair frowning and kept glancing over at you. Until you pushed your tray away from you got your bag and walked out of the cafeteria some of the boys saying "oh y/n Common."

Eddie glanced at his friend's who was also starring at the table you was once sat at as was other people in the canteen shocked by you leaving. "Be back." Eddie said standing up walking off. He walked to the table you was sat at and stood at the end of it.

"What do you want freak?" Andy said. Eddie rolled his eyes looking at Andy and Tommy sat next to Jason then to Jason.

"What the fuck did you say to her." Eddie said bluntly starring at the three boys blankly.

"Just said she should be more like Chrissy and carol and focus in her appearance more." Tommy said smirking leaning back in his chair folding his arms over his chest. Eddie nodded and walked back over to hellfire.

"Dude tour just gonna let him say that your way to calm." Gareth said looming at Eddie in disbelief.

"Doug can I borrow your milkshake ill buy you another on Monday or before hellfire." He ignored Gareth asking doug. He nodded and handed it to Eddie who bit thr inside of his mouth thanking him before walking off. He walked around thr table of jocks and cheerleaders as if he was going to walk out of the door.

As Eddie got to the head of the table he threw the milkshake so it went over the three boys not stopping walking. "Maybe you should worry about yours I suppose you've gotta have a big ego to make up for thr rumours about your small cock." Eddie said ruffling Tommy's hair as he walked past him wiping his milkshake covered hand on Jason's back.

"Fucking freak." Tommy said standing up. Eddie took that as he had to run. So he did. He ran down the halls with the three boys following him. He went left and as he went down the hall he saw you walking. He slowed down as he approached you.

"Hey baby." Eddie said as he stopped next to you. You smiled up at him. "Here lemme take those." HE said taking the two books you was holding and your bag. He put thr books inside and slung it over his shoulder holding you into his side. "Don't listen to em ok? There is nothing and I mean nothing wrong with you. Babe some of them girls look like they haven't eaten for days cause they listen to them dicks. Your healthy. You got a beautiful face, amazing personality and a banging body." Eddie said holding you closer.

"Banging... Jesus Eddie." You laugh slightly.

"I'm serious want me to prove your perfect the way you are and there's nothing wrong with your weight or body?" Eddie askes stopping you both. You nod skeptically. Eddie wraps his arms around your waist picks you up and spins with you.

He puts you down after a moment and your both laughing. That's what he wanted to see. He wrapped his arms around you hugging you and you did the same. "See I can even touch my other arm don't listen to em." Eddie smirking kissing your cheek.

"I love you so much you fucking weirdo." You giggled kissing Eddie.

"I love you so much to you fucking freak." Eddie smirked back.

"Love how you went from saying how perfect I am to calling me a freak babe." You laughed pushing Eddie shoulder.

"Please we've been over this there is nothing wrong with being a lil freaky sweets." HE sid pulling you back into him.

Before you could answer you heard Tommy, and and jason at the end of the hall shouting Eddie name.

"What are they covered in?" You ask.

"Milkshake." Eddie smirks.

"What why?"

"CAUSE no one fucks with my girl and gets away with it... yeah we may need to run." Eddie says grabbing your hand and running down the hall with you.

Moments later you reach the van which luckily Eddie never locks he swings the passenger door open for you then runs around to the drivers side getting. You get in yourself and slam the door pushing the lock down Eddie doing the same the starting the van up and driving out of thr school faster then anyone should.

You look in thr mirror to see the three boys stood looking pissed. Then over to Eddie who's lighting a cigarette. "I'm not going to cheer tonight they'll be fine without me." You say leaning back in the chair.

"Yeah? Come watch hellfire could be fun babe." Eddie says exhaling the smoke. You nod smiling at him.

"Besides the boys think it's funny when your there cause apparently you make me go all stupid n they think it's funny when you tell me to stop being mean to them." Eddie smirks. You laugh and kiss his neck.

"I love you so much." You say kissing the spot again.

"I love you so much too... you know you could always leave a little mark there I mean I for sure wouldn't mind it. Just saying." Eddie said pretending to be serious. As he drives you leave him two hickeys inna heart shape and he smiles.

At hellfire that evening the boys notice it and every time Eddie runs a hand over his neck or through his hair the boys have plenty of comments.

"Woah who's the real master ed?"

"Maybe Eddie's curls arent real after all."

Then they notice you have one to you didn't know about.

"I do not have one!" You protest to the boys at the table.

"Yes you do I fucking put it there." Eddie chims in. You shake your head and Eddie kisses under your ear. "Relax there just jealous cause your more perfect then them so you get one." Eddie says kissing you sweetly. You smile and Eddie turns to go back to his campaign but doug then has a memory.

"You still owe me a milkshake!" HE points at Eddie and you laugh taking Eddie's hand in yours.

"What seeing Jason, Andy and Tommy look like they were covered in shit wasn't good enough for you?" Eddie says leaning back in his chair.

"Was for me made me feel better." You laugh

"Look Eddie you may have been getting your revenge for your fantastic girlfriend-"

"Which was totally a lie what they said by the way babe they inly said it cause you date the person they hate most and are hottest on the team." Eddie cuts off doug looking at you earning a smile a squeeze of Eddie's hand.

"Yeah big lie. But. I TAKE MY LUNCH VERH SERIOUSLY!" Doug shouts pointing at Eddie making the others laugh.

"Fuck off doug ill get it to ya Monday." Eddie says kissing you.

After the campaign your helping Eddie tidy up when he speaks. "If he ever makes you feel like shit again tell me. Either me or one of thr others will tone em down. N it would only be the others cause I'm running to your rescue." HE says stretching.

"Really bothered you huh babe?" You say walking over to him.

"Well yeah, I get them being mean to me bit they don't need to drag you into it nd try make you feel insecure. Your gorgeous and they just jealous." Eddie says putting his arms around you.

"Thank you." You says nuzzling into his neck.

"Don't thank me for looking after you against them dicks I'll do it everyday I love you."

"Mm yeh. I also meant for letting me wear your hellfire top when I got cold in the campaign n you sitting there with no top on under your jackets but ok." You giggle kissing him.

"Did I look hot." HE laughs.

"SO hot honestly babe would've jumped your bones right then if you wasn't in the middle of a campaign." You say kissing him.

"Guess I'll have to keep thr jackets on when we get back to the trailer." HE wiggles his eyebrows.

"Your so weird."

"You love me."

"Mmm I do.... let go of my ass."

"Never." HE laughs squeezing it before letting go.

"I knew that conversation was a bit to serious." You say picking up his notebook.

He nods kissing you sweetly.

No matter what anyone said you knew deep down there was nothing wrong with you and of it took you a moment to remember you'd always have Eddie to remind you. As he held you and kissed you you both pulled away resting your foreheads together.

"You still owe doug his milkshake."

"OH fuck off." Eddie laughs kissing you again.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie m #eddie munson thoughts #eddie munson x yn #eddie smut #eddie x reader #eddie x you #rockstar eddie munson #eddie my beloved #eddie stranger things

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monzabee · 8 months

Text

a not so meet cute – cl16

paper rings, prologue(?)

masterlist || series masterlist ||

Summary: The one where Charles meets his neighbour, who quickly captures his attention.

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: none other than charles being charles, also might have some cursing, google translate french

Request: “Hii if you’re taking requests could you please write a fic for Charles where he’s your best friend and he asks you to fake date him because he think he likes another girl so he wants to make her notice him/make her jealous kind of thing and you agree even though you love him and during the fake dating he realises that he loves you too and yeah angst fluff and all but a happy ending .If you decide to write this tysm and incase you don’t feel like writing this that’s cool too thanks either way ❤️”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! although i am still working on the first chapter of this new series, i wanted to write a little something for you guys to introduce you to the world i had in mind! i know it was not on the wip schedule, but the inspiration struck so i decided to go with it. ever since i saw the wedding pictures of margaret qualley and jack antonoff, the only thing i've been thinking of was the song, and i though it was the perfect song for the characters i had in mind. so, welcome to the new series, inspired by the request above, so thank you for the anon who put the idea in my mind to create this whole series, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

August, 2017

He met Margaret on our rooftop, she was wearing white And he was like, "I might be in trouble"

Charles loves his country, he really does. He’s always been patriotic of some sorts, he supposes. But the one thing he absolutely loathes about Monaco? The heat, no questions asked. The worst part isn’t even the heat itself, per se, it is the fact that his apartment has no elevator and he has to walk up five stories just to make it to his apartment – in the heat. So yeah, even though he is as patriotic of a Monégasque as they come, he definitely wishes he was somewhere else at the moment. When he does make to his floor, however, he’s met with a rather peculiar view, where his new neighbour is yelling at someone on the phone.

“No, I said I wanted the granite counters,” the person specify, fingers clutching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “No!” The man straight up yells, “Ceux en granit, connard, pas ceux en graphite. I don’t think they even come in graphite!”

Deciding to remain silent as he makes his way towards his own apartment, Charles ignores the man standing in front of the apartment opposite of his. Though, he realises that the apartment’s door is open and there is construction going on inside, which explains the drilling sounds he’s been hearing early in the morning and the smell of fresh paint that never seems to leave the shared floor.

Side-eyeing the whole ordeal, he manages to make it to his apartment without attracting the attention of the man – or so he thinks. Just as he’s about to unlock his front door, he feels a pat on his shoulder. As he turns towards the man, there is a curious look on his face, “Hi?”

“Hello,” the man greets, “do you know how i can contact the superintendent?”

For reasons unknown (extreme hangover), Charles’ brain decides to blank out, “Quoi?”

“Le commissaire,” the man clarifies, “savez-vous comment je peux les contacter?” And Charles realises he would have been impressed with the man’s accent if he wasn’t so hangover from the night before. The superintendent, do you know how I can contact them?

“Ah,” Charles nods in understanding, “sure, let me give you his number.”

After the man saves the number he gives to his phone, he extends his hand in a friendly greeting. “I owe you one, I’m Declan, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Charles,” he responds with, what he hopes to be, a friendly smile. Motioning the apartment behind them, he asks, “Are you my new neighbour?”

“Oh, no, no,” Declan laughs, and it’s a warm, almost infectious laugh. It reminds Charles of– well, it doesn’t matter anymore. Declan’s voice draws him back to the conversation, “My sister is, I’m renovating it for her.”

Charles nods in understanding, “Ah, I see. I’ve never seen her around, I don’t think.”

“Well that’d be because she’s as annoying as little sisters come,” Declan laughs again, and this time it manages to get a smile out of Charles. “You know what? We’re actually having a small party at my place tonight, why don’t you come?”

“You’ve just met me,” Charles points out, voicing his confusion, “you really want to invite me to your house?”

“Pish posh,” Declan waves him off, already starting to walk back to his sister’s apartment “I’ll send you the details, bring alcohol!”

Charles tries to come up with excuses to give Declan when he’s a no show at the party, but all the excused he come up with sounding either shitty, entitled or just a mess in general. So he convinces himself to get ready after a much needed shower, and remembers to pick up a bottle of tequila on his way to the address Declan texted him earlier that day. Considering the amount of cars parked in front of the apartment complex, Charles thinks whether it’s going to be a ‘small’ party as Declan put earlier, but he manages to find a place to park his car, nonetheless. Surprisingly, it’s not hard to find which apartment belongs to his new ‘friend’, as the people he seems to keep literally bumping into give him directions which lead him to the top floor – he thinks, like brother like sister, huh?

“Ah, bienvenu, Charles!” Declan greets him as he enters the apartment, filled with more people than he honestly expected; but hey, they are in Monte Carlo after all.

Because he was raised by his mother, Charles replies, “Merci de me recevoir,” but because he is Charles, he finds himself reverting easily to French. Of course, he soon realises that his new friend has no trouble understanding him.

“Of course, ma maison est ta maison.” With a wide smile that reaches his eyes, he takes the bottle Charles offer him and pats his shoulder in a friendly manner, “Good lad, let me put this in the kitchen and we’ll find my sister together. I suppose she’s here somewhere.”

Giving him a firm nod, Charles is suddenly left alone to gaze around the living area. He quickly realises that he’s not the only one who is particularly patriotic as he comes face to face with the Union Jack on the wall, proudly displayed on the wall, seems to tell a story of cultural connections and a home away from home. He’s also, somehow, met with a very eccentric group of people, who seem to be insistent on having him join their various conversation – which he does his best to partake in.

As he chats with a group of fellow partygoers, he notices Declan making his way through the crowd toward him. “Charles,” he says with an apologetic smile, “sorry for that, let’s go.”

As they move through the apartment, Charles catches glimpses of the décor, which can only be described as eclectic, but what he realises that Declan made sure to fill up his walls with all kinds of memories; from photographs of what Charles thinks is his family to his diplomas, to even famous artwork – he’s not sure whether the Warhol he just passed by is real or not, but he supposes it’s probably the first option. They arrive at a corner of the rooftop terrace where a cozy seating area is arranged. A few guests are engaged in animated discussions, while others lounge comfortably, enjoying the ambiance. However, it doesn’t take either him or Declan to realise that his sister is, in fact, not with the group.

Though, it doesn’t take the latter to spot his sister, mumbling with a wince under his breath, and when Charles follows Declan's gaze to find her engaged in a rather animated discussion with a man who looks both frustrated and slightly bewildered by her. “Poor guy.”

“Seems like she's keeping him entertained.” Charles offer, careful with his words, and also quite confused at the man’s reactions to whatever Declan’s sister seems to be saying.

“Eh, sisters.” Declan shrugs, and motions Charles to follow him.

As they approach their corner of the terrace, her voice becomes clearer, and Charles can overhear snippets of the conversation. “I just don’t understand why we can’t print more money,” she says in an airy voice.

The man she's speaking to rubs his temples, clearly grappling with how to respond. “Well, it's not that simple. Printing more money can lead to inflation and devalue the currency.” He takes a moment to think, then, “Think of it like shoes–”

“Okay,” Declan laughs nervously as he places himself between the two, turning to the other man with a kind smile, “I think we’re done here, mate, she’s playing you. She’s an econ major, sorry for that.” Though Charles can’t see the expression on her face, he imagines there’s some sort of a victorious smile as she waves the man away, “Stop emasculating my friends, please.”

“Well choose better friends, and I won’t,” she shrugs, following his brother’s movements as he makes his way back near Charles, she turns towards him as the white dress she’s wearing sways gently in the evening breeze. There’s a surprised look on her face when she realises and they are not alone, “Um, hi.”

With a playful grin, Declan points to Charles and turns to his sister, “This is Charles, your new neighbour, and Charles, this is my sister–”

Bambi.

It’s the only word that comes to Charles’ mind when he sees your eyes and a friendly smile you give to him, “Nice to meet you, Charles.”

His eyes fall down to your extended hand, and he scrambles to regain his composure, taking your hand and shaking it gently. “Uh, yes, nice to meet you too.”

With an unexpected clap from your brother, which has both you and Charles jumping slightly, you turn to him with a glare, “Well, now that you know each other, I’ll leave you to get acquainted. And you,” he points to you which elicits a raised eyebrow from you, “don’t scare him off, and for God’s sake change this music.”

“What’s wrong with ABBA?” You ask with a small pout already forming on your lips.

“We need a change,” Charles watches with a silent chuckle as Declan starts walking back towards the kitchen, “ergo, change it!”

“Well that was an interesting exit,” you mumble, eyes following your brother until he’s out of both your and Charles’ views. Afterwards, you turn your attention back to the man standing in front of you, “What do you think about The Smiths?”

“Who?” Charles asks you, confusion written on his face.

“Not The Who,” you nudge him slightly, chuckling softly, though your laughter dies down once you realise he’s really confused. “I– The Smiths, Charles! To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die,” you softly sing, but he replies with a small shake of his head, and a shrug. “Oh, I love The Smiths! Come on, you have a lot to learn.”

As you grab him by his wrist to guide him back inside the apartment, I might be in trouble, he thinks to himself. And then, you turn around to give him a full smile, with a glint of mischief in your eyes that he can't quite interpret, and say, “I can already feel that we are going to be very good friends.”

And then he knows, he’s definitely in trouble.

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fluff

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rookthorne · 8 months

Text

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐏𝐭. 𝟐

Bucky had begun to spread your wings, one act after the other — the cage of your innocence now far too small for such beauty to soar. There were still some steps to take for those feathers to feel the wind beneath them, but patience was a virtue Bucky excelled at.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ♆ Pornstar!Bucky Barnes x Innocent!F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ♆ 3.9k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ♆ Fluff, puns and humour ჻჻჻ SMUT: Oral (F receiving), fingering (F receiving), multiple orgasms, Dom/Sub, Soft Dom!Bucky, light subspace ჻჻჻ KINKS: Light degradation, praise, daddy

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ♆ Who knew the first part would become one of my biggest fics, and who knew that Pornstar!Bucky would also become one of the most popular Bucky AUs I have? I hope y'all enjoy this one, because hot damn...

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 ♆ Like U by Rosenfeld ♆ I Want To by Rosenfeld

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂 ♆ @smutconnoisseur (which, thankfully, this fic didn't kill her completely off)

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ♆ @pupandkisasaesthetics Aesthetic Challenge — Masterlist

𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Bucky had stayed all night and into the next day, at least, until he had to leave for work. He parted with a tight, all encompassing hug and a deep kiss, one of which you wished never ended.

“I’ll be back later tonight, don’t get into any trouble,” were his parting words, and just like that, he promised to be back after his shoots to spend the night at your apartment again.

For the whole of the day, you spent it in a stupor – not so much in the clouds, per se, but the feeling of floating on cloud nine had never dissipated. Rather, it grew. Bucky’s confession the previous night still rang around your head like the clashing of symbols, and it was hard to comprehend that it was real.

Nevertheless, Bucky had confessed, and so had you. The weight off of your shoulders alone after the admittance was immeasurable. With that comforting assurance, you powered on through the day and puttered around your apartment, cleaning and maintaining the space.

The hours passed swiftly. Nightfall had arrived in what seemed like only moments when there were a couple of knocks on the wooden front door. You grinned ear to ear and skipped to the door, unlocking the deadbolt and opening it with that same smile that froze on your face at the sight that greeted you.

It was Bucky… with flowers. A bright bouquet of them, a manner of reds and purples, all flourishing in beauty and tied with a velvet black ribbon. He himself was dressed in a black Henley and dark sweats. “Hi, baby.”

“Bucky…” You stood stock still, frozen in shock at such an old fashioned notion – it felt like you were living a moment brought to life. One straight from your romance books. “Hi.”

He grinned and offered the flowers. “Just thought my pretty girl deserved some flowers–call me old fashioned.”

A laugh bubbled up from your chest. “Yeah–yeah, y’are, Buck. Come in.” The door opened fully with a quiet creak, and Bucky stepped inside, his cologne filling your senses as he strode past. “How were the shoots?”

Bucky shrugged, then grinned at you over his shoulder. “Same as always, baby.” His boots were loud over the floor as he walked into your kitchen in search of a vase. “Nat kept us entertained as always, and then Steve–fuckin’ punk, he pulled a prank on her, and we never heard the end of it. Remind me to never get on Nat’s bad side.”

“He never learns,” you commented, and Bucky snorted a derisive laugh. “I’m glad they went okay. Are you tired?”

There was a huff of a laugh, “Could never tire of you, kitten.” You spluttered at his words, and he chuckled, then the solid thump of glass on your kitchen counter sounded before he turned around to face you. “Nope. I thought we could jus’ chill tonight, sweetheart.”

You blinked – hadn’t he wanted to do something with you? “But-”

“If–and this is a big if,” Bucky cut in, his eyes sharp as he stared at you. The hesitation must have shown in your expression. Damn him for being able to read you so easily, you inwardly cursed. “The moment and want arises, yes,” Bucky continued, brow raised. “We can do more. But I am not gonna push you, and you shouldn’t push yourself, either.”

Bucky waited a beat, then he tilted his head down, expecting an answer. “Okay,” you agreed. “See how we go.” He winked and pushed off the counter.

“How was your day, kitten?” he hummed, pulling you into his embrace. “What did you get up to?” A kiss on the crown of your head made you smile.

“It was alright. Nothing much, just cleaned up and, well, nothing.” You swayed in Bucky’s arms and looped yours around his broad, muscled back, squeezing tight until he grunted. “You’re cuddly.”

“Am I? Wouldn’t have known,” Bucky teased. He pulled away and kissed you on the lips, the chaste kiss bringing everything below to life – no way would you let him just sit there unsullied, you thought wickedly. “Why don’t you get set up? We can watch it in bed. Cuddle up and do what they call Netflix and Chill.”

“Oh, fucking hell,” you laughed, punching him on the shoulder. “No. Just… No. Stop that.”

Bucky grinned and turned back to the kitchen – the view of his ass one that you couldn’t turn away from. “You keep staring, and my ass will catch on fire. I need my best asset.”

“Why are you like this?” you deadpanned, and Bucky howled with a loud laugh. “Seriously, why? Why do you torment me so?”

“I’ll torment you in another way if you don’t move that cute butt a’yours,” Bucky retorted, staring at you from over his shoulder. “Go on, get goin’. That bed ain’t gonna warm itself.”

You rolled your eyes and padded off towards your bedroom – the bedspread made and neat, the curtains drawn. Warm light filled the room when you flicked the bedside lamp on and cast the TV on the opposite wall into view.

“Babe! Where did you put the damn popcorn?” Bucky yelled from down the hallway. The sound of cupboards opening and closing followed his plea for help.

“In the pantry,” you replied back, pillows in hand. “The snack drawer, you idiot.” The pillows fell into a pile with a quiet thump when you heard Bucky’s now bare feet come down the hallway, where he suddenly appeared in the hallway. “What?”

“That’s not where your popcorn goes.” The crinkle of plastic drew your attention from his pout, and you grinned. You had stocked up on his favourite, but pulled a trick by hiding it behind his most hated flavour. “What are you doin’?”

You chuckled and shook your head. “Move the packets, you dumbass. They’re behind them.”

“You’ll pay for that,” Bucky warned, pointing at you. “You’ll regret this.”

“Bite me,” you sassed to his retreating footsteps.

“Don’t tempt me!”

A few moments later, you were settled in bed next to Bucky, your backs against the headboard and the snacks spread out over your laps. He had encouraged you to lay your head on his shoulder, and that was how your relaxing movie night had begun.

The TV played in the background, but your mind was elsewhere – a viscous curiosity having gripped you in an iron vice. Last night, Bucky had taken you apart with his fingers – just his fingers – and promised more. You were no fool, you knew he was waiting for you to be ready, and you felt as much, if only a little nervous.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty head, baby?” Bucky asked suddenly, his voice quiet as his breath fanned over your head. It was then you looked up at him to parse his expression. It was soft, curious, and genuine in nature. “Your breathin’ changed, kitten–what’re you up to?”

Oh, no.

“Um… Nothing,” you rushed, putting your head back on his shoulder and praying for and willing your body to calm down and stop betraying your thoughts.

“Alright,” Bucky replied simply, and you let loose a breath you hadn’t realised you had held.

Only, Bucky wasn’t done with you.

Suddenly, his hand was on your thigh, and he shifted impossibly closer. Once settled, he kissed you on the head and made a show of flexing his hand to grab some candy. You watched with rapt attention while Bucky stared at the screen and put the candy on his lips. That damned tongue darted out to take the sugary sweet before he pulled it into his mouth.

Arousal pooled and swirled in your gut, and your cunt throbbed – just from the simple visual of his tongue. Fuck, you cursed.

“You alright there, baby?” Bucky asked again, and you realised he was staring at you, face curiously blank aside from his raised brow. “You’re squirmin’. What’s goin’ on?”

“Nothing,” you squeaked, and you stared into his face and, to your horror, watched his expression shift from blank to smug.

“I don’t think it is, honey,” Bucky murmured, and his hand moved higher up your thigh. “I think my innocent little kitten is gettin’ herself worked up for daddy, isn’t she?”

“Oh, fuck.”

Bucky grinned – predatory and dark. “I take that as a yes, baby.” He licked his lips, and you watched, transfixed at the movement, and Bucky chuckled. “Lemme guess; somethin’s runnin’ through that pretty head about last night, and you want more.”

“But-”

“That is not the answer to my question,” Bucky said easily, his tone laced with such casual dominance it made you blink and stutter. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

You gulped audibly and started to sweat – your palms clammy, and unbidden, your thighs clenched as you stared at his lips. “Uh- I, yeah. Yeah, it- That’s it.” The words fumbled on your tongue and came out in such a rush that Bucky’s grin only widened.

“Good girl.” Bucky shifted and turned his body to face you. The darkening of his eyes made you breathe heavily, an automatic response you had no control over. His hands, soft and warm, cupped your face and pulled you into his space, his lips so close to yours you could just inch forward and take them. Instead, like Bucky was holding onto his own control by a thread, he hoarsely whispered, “Daddy’s proud of you for answerin’ with the truth.”

An unintelligible moan fell from your lips, and Bucky surged forward, claiming your lips with his in a searing kiss that stole your breath. His hands wandered from your jaw to your shoulders, down your arms, until they rested on your waist – his thumbs rubbed up and down your side, bunching the fabric of your shirt.

“Fuck,” Bucky breathed against your lips, his forehead resting against yours. “Never get tired of kissin’ you, baby girl.” He pecked you on the lips once more and pulled back. “Seems like my little Vixen is lookin’ to play. And, you know, daddy can’t say no.”

“Daddy,” you breathed, and you blinked slowly as he smirked and shuffled back on the bed. “Please–I want you.”

“I know, kitten,” Bucky purred. “Move the food–put it on there,” he pointed at your bedside drawers. “Then lay back for me, thighs spread.”

With haste, you gathered the snacks in a haphazard pile and moved them onto the top of your bedside drawers. It was a precarious pile, but you didn’t care at that moment – not when Bucky was staring at you with such fierceness and hunger in his eyes.

After placing the snacks out of the way, you let out a shaky breath – you didn’t remember what he’d asked in your rush and nerves. “How-” You stammered, wringing your hands. “Um, how do I–?”

Bucky smiled softly and grabbed your hands to stop your fidgeting, the soothing warmth and pressure grounding you. “Lay down on your back for me, baby. I’ll take those cute panties off, and then you’ll spread your thighs for me. Can you do that, sweetheart? Can you do that for daddy?”

The assurance and instruction from Bucky calmed the storm of nerves in your mind, and you did as he instructed. His hands rubbed up and down the outsides of your thighs, until you settled, head and shoulders propped up on pillows.

“Atta girl,” he praised happily. You watched his hands grip the sides of your panties, and then you felt the fabric drag down your thighs and calves, and then he tossed them away to the corner of your room. “You know what to do now honey–c’mon.”

“Okay,” you murmured, and you slowly, shyly, opened your thighs.

Bucky moved to kneel between your now spread thighs, and he whistled lowly. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen–and it’s mine. All fuckin’ mine.”

“Daddy…” Bucky looked up at you from your cunt, and the hunger in his eyes had grown in intensity – eclipsing what little was left of the cerulean blue into inky black. “Please, please, it- It aches.”

A wicked grin twisted his expression, and you whimpered in shock – he’d never looked like that before. “It aches, baby girl?” His hand moved to cup your sex, and his thumb brushed over your clit. “Here? It aches here?”

“Yes!” you yelped as he increased the pressure of his touch. “Please!”

“You poor thing,” he drawled, his gaze locked on your cunt. “I know.” Slowly, Bucky pulled his hand away from your sex and moved back on the bed. You watched him lay flat on his stomach, and he propped his upper half up on his elbows when he pulled the elastic that held his hair up and out of his face, off – brown locks now framing his face and devilish smirk. “So you have somethin’ to hold onto, baby.”

“What do you mean–?” you whispered, confused.

“It means, kitten,” Bucky began as he moved closer so his breath fanned over your inner thighs. “That daddy is gonna eat this pretty pussy, and you’re gonna cum for him–and he’s not gonna stop until you do.”

“Oh, wait- Wait, please,” you pleaded as anxiety flooded you. “But I… I’ve never had- This, never had this.”

“And that’s a damn fuckin’ shame, sweetheart,” Bucky replied darkly. “So, what you’re gonna feel is intense–remember the colours?” You nodded. “Good girl. We’re gonna use them, and you will shout out if you feel anything that makes you feel yellow, or red. Do you understand me, baby?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky kissed your thigh in response. “You let your body do what it wants. I’m not goin’ nowhere, and you’re safe. You can let go whenever you feel it–I will not hold back, honey.”

A whimper escaped before you clamped your mouth shut with a loud click.

“Now, daddy’s gonna take charge,” Bucky pushed on, his hands squeezing your thighs. “And your job, kitten, is to relax and let yourself feel–jus’ like last night, okay?”

“Okay,” you replied quietly, and Bucky grinned; this time, it was a fond action. “Thank you.”

“Always.”

The sensation of Bucky’s breath over your cunt made you twitch, and your hands fisted the sheets of the comforter, the anticipation building to be overwhelming. “Easy, sweetheart,” Bucky cooed, and you realised he was staring up at you, his head raised up and away from your twitching entrance. “You’re okay, and you’re safe.”

In your fugue state, no words came to mind on how to reply, so you just nodded.

“Here we go, babydoll,” he warned, and you braced. Only, the sensation ghosted over your clit, a barely there brush of his lips, when he groaned. “Fuck, you’re perfect–I’m never leavin’ your cunt. Never.”

Lips turned into tongue, and you keened at the wet, hard sensation of the muscle over your clit. It was otherworldly. Once resting beside your thigh, Bucky’s arm came up and over your hip to pin you in place. You looked down at the tattooed limb and then at his face, dazed and confused, only to find a mischievous glint in his hooded eyes.

“Wha- Fuck!” Bucky sucked gently, the hollows of his cheeks pulling in against his teeth as he kept up a steady stream of patterns with his tongue. “Daddy! Oh, daddy–please, feels so good,” you moaned, and you tried to writhe, to buck your hips up and closer to his mouth, but his arm had you pinned in place. “Hnng, pleaseplease!”

The vibration of his hum wrapped up and around your spine, the sensation finally settling in your heat with a sharp throb.

Bucky pulled back from your clit with a wet pop, and he groaned again. “So fuckin’ sweet too. I can’t wait to fuck your pretty hole with my tongue, kitten–get you really mewlin’ for me.”

“Jesus,” you gasped, and Bucky laughed. “You- You’re tongue–”

“Yeah.” Bucky grinned, his chin shining with slick. “And now it’s all yours. Now excuse me, this pretty pussy is achin’ for some attention.”

“Fuck-”

Bucky surged forward again, this time with such vigour your clit was pulled between his lips. You screamed to the ceiling and bowed your back, your thighs already trembling from the new sensations that pulled you under. “God! Please don’t stop- I- I think!”

The sensations ceased for just a second, and you felt Bucky speak more than you heard, “And I said not to think, honey–let go, give it to daddy. Cum for me.”

You groaned and panted his name when you finally fisted his hair in both hands – both pulling closer and pushing him away. There was a low moan in his throat, and he sucked harder, the patterns from his tongue faster, when something cascaded down your spine. It started slowly, building and building until you tingled all over; every limb was affected by the new sensation. “Bucky! Daddy–I, please, oh my god.”

He moaned loudly, the vibration so intense that your vision blurred and whited out. “Yes! Keep-” You hiccuped and pulled at his hair. “Fuck, don’t stop!”

You stared down at the top of his head when he tilted it up, his eyes meeting yours. “Daddy,” you moaned, and you could have sworn he grinned wickedly again. There was a slight raise to his brow, the intent unknown, and when you parted your lips to speak, a sob tore from your throat.

In the second it took for you to open your mouth, Bucky’s head shook side to side, the movements fast and purposeful as he alternated sucking on your clit and licking broadly over your lips and entrance.

The sensation that had built so slowly through your body imploded at once. A high, thin wail consisting of his name and curses tumbled from your mouth as your back bowed. “‘M cumming, daddy! Please!”

Your climax felt like a wildfire through every nerve, every muscle, and every bone – an all encompassing rush of ecstasy that left you boneless and quivering through the aftershocks. Bucky kept nursing softly on your clit; the delicate swipes from the tip of his tongue to the broad strokes with the pad of it made you twitch and jerk under his arm.

“Fuck,” you croaked as he pulled off of your cunt with a sinful, wet pop. A far more obscene sound that made the fire spark again.

Bucky rested his head on your thigh and blinked, smiling with a lust-drunk haze. “You alright, sweetheart? What’s your colour?”

“Green,” you rasped, “I’m fucking fantastic.” There was a light laugh in your tone, and your head fell back against the pillow. Feeling and strength returned slowly to every limb, each awakening at an agonisingly slow pace. “Fucking hell, daddy.”

“You keep saying my name, kitten, and I won’t be able to control myself.” Your head snapped up to stare at him, though he was too occupied staring at your cunt – that same hungry glint in his eyes. “Jus’ such a perfect fuckin’ pussy, baby. S’good, and I don’t wanna stop. Think you can cum again for me?”

“Again?” you squeaked.

Bucky looked up at you. “Yeah–fuck it, you’re gonna cum again for daddy. Can’t get enough.”

Your mouth fell open in surprise, but Bucky pushed forward. This time, his mouth hovered lower, and the arm pinning your hips down shifted and angled down so his fingers brushed over your sensitive clit. “Daddy’s gonna work fast, and he’s gonna fuck your tight hole with his tongue, alright, kitten?”

“Hnng- Yeah, daddy,” you moaned, just as the tip of Bucky’s tongue danced over your clit. “Please, please–I wan’ it.”

“You can have it, babydoll,” he whispered against your cunt, and it clenched around nothing. “Poor girl is weepin’ for me, isn’t she? Let’s fix that.”

The sensation of Bicky’s tongue forcing its way in your cunt shocked you, and you yelled a loud “Oh!” in response. His fingers thrummed over your clit, ignorant of the way your thighs and stomach tensed and jerked, all while his tongue moved in such a way it made your brain crash and burn. “Daddy–s’good, I fucking love your mouth, ah!”

Bucky moaned in response and kicked up the intensity – his fingers blurred over your clit, and he lapped at your walls, broad strokes that made you quiver in pleasure or oversensitivity; the line long since blurred.

The very same feeling you had from your first climax began low in your hips, ricocheting up your spine and spreading outwards at such a rate you only had a second’s notice before it consumed you. Each pass of his fingers forced your upper body off the pillows and your thighs to tighten around Bucky’s shoulders. “Daddy!”

“Yeah? What is it, baby?” Bucky asked, pulling away from your cunt, but his fingers kept up their fast pace. “What’s wrong–use your words.”

“Feels s’good, so fucking good, daddy, please,” you begged and babbled, voice strained. There were tears building along your waterline. “Please–wanna cum for daddy.”

The grin Bucky flashed was the most menacing one yet. “Such a good fuckin’ girl using your manners. You can cum–soak daddy’s face like the slut you are.” He dove right back between your thighs, forcing his tongue deep in your heat and his fingers to move faster over your clit.

You keened high in your throat as the wildfire blinded you, the pleasure overwhelming in its currents. “Gonna cum! Please!”

To your utter surprise, you felt the breach and pressure of three fingers, the insistent brush and curl of them making you cry out blindly with pleasure. “Shit! Oh, daddy!”

Bucky hummed, his face soaked in your slick. “Give it to me, baby,” he encouraged, his fingers moving desperately over your walls until they struck gold. “Give it to daddy, c’mon.”

Lips covered your clit, and you whimpered, high in pitch, as Bucky sucked – pressure steadily increasing until it became too much to bear. “Daddy! ‘M cumming again! Oh my god, fuckfuckfuck,” you chanted, and you twisted in his grip, your hips miraculously lifting off the bed as you sobbed and moaned through a violent climax.

“Tha’s it, sweetheart!” Bucky called suddenly, his voice muffled over the roar of blood in your ears. “Good girl–good girl, good kitten. Fuck, you’re so beautiful like this.”

Moments, hours, days passed – you couldn’t tell as you lay there, panting for air around the throes of aftershocks. Bucky spoke continuously, a steady stream of praise and reassurance that you welcomed in your haze: “Did so good for me, honey–so good for daddy,” and, “Fuckin’ beautiful, baby girl, you have no idea how pretty you are right now.”

“Daddy,” you murmured, and Bucky was suddenly all you could see – his hair knotted and bunched at his scalp, chin, and cheeks wet with slick, and a priceless, prideful smile on his lips. “Daddy–please,” you tried, and he tucked an errant strand of hair behind your ear.

“‘M here, baby girl, ‘m here.” There was a shift in the air, and then you were suddenly on your side, Bucky still close. “You alright? You still with me, honey?”

You nodded once, blinked, and sidled closer to rest your forehead in the juncture of his neck. “Mhm.”

“Thank you, honey,” Bucky murmured, and his voice rumbled through his chest. “You did so fuckin’ good for me–fuck, you were so pretty. Prettier than those roses.” There was a pause, then, “Couldn’t be prouder of you, baby. You took charge and didn’t let your shyness or nerves stop you. Fuckin’ bloomin’ like those roses too–jus’ so fuckin’ beautiful.”

Your heart, much like the roses he had given you, grew and bloomed in your chest – flourishing under the praise and genuine awe. And you couldn’t help but smile softly.

You were his rose – blooming and beautiful as you grew.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fluff #pup&kisasaestheticchallenge #rookthorne's works

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bitchesuntitled · 15 days

Text

When It Rains

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI, go on get! PWP, mostly porn but some plot, unprotected PIV(Don't do this IRL, be safe, make smart choices), kissing, fingering(f receiving), cream pie, flirting.

I'm trying to practice smut more, be kind. This is for @undercoverpena's April Showers prompt!

Thank you so much to @notjustjavierpena for helping me with the moodboard and the grammar stuff, @strang3lov3 for editing and leaving encouraging comments, and @beefrobeefcal for also betaing! Don't know what I would do without you lovely people! ❤️

@jay-zzle is my Spanish expert and dear friend who has helped me with a lot of my translations. Plus she's also one of the main reasons I'm trying to learn Spanish 🥰

divider by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

You’ve been assigned the stakeout with Javier Peña at a nightclub, where it’s been rumored that some of Escobar’s sicarios frequent regularly. It’s not a problem per se, but it could just be a tad distracting considering the circumstances. No one, not even Murphy, has seemed to catch wind of what has been going on between the two of you; the late-night meet-ups, the storage closet, the file room, hell - there was even one time late at night in the office the three of you share. You’re professional though, work always comes before play. That’s been the rule since the beginning.

“Looks like it’s gonna rain,” Javi comments, pushing his head to the car’s window, and looking up, “We could definitely use it.”

You hum in agreement, watching the nightclub like a hawk. As you listen to the pulsing music radiating from the club, watching people file in and out of the building, none seem to be any of Escobar’s crew just yet. The night seems to be growing darker as the clouds glide across the sky, covering the bright moon's light. Soon enough, small drops of rain begin to fall, turning into fat drops within minutes, downpour to follow.

“Fuck,” you hiss, gripping the steering wheel and peering out the dash window, “Of course.”

“Nothing wrong with some rain,” Javi smirks, looking at you.

“Except for the fact we can’t see shit!”

“Maybe we could do something else with our time?” Javi suggests, laying his arm against the back of the bench seat and scooting his hips forward to get more comfortable. His hand creeps onto your shoulder, rubbing small circles against the bare skin there, skimming past the hem of your tank top.

“Javi,” you scold, shrugging your shoulders to get your point across, “No, we’re working.”

“Can’t see shit in this rain,” Javi grumbles, crossing his arms across his chest, “Least we could have some fun.”

“Maybe it’ll die down,” you suggest, looking at him. He matches your stare with those pleading eyes of his. Those dark eyes, the way they make you want to melt every single time they land on you.

It’s been 20 minutes and the downpour hasn’t relented. After seeing how you wouldn’t be doing something else with your time like he suggested, Javi’s beginning to become restless.

“When it rains it pours, hermosa,” Javi says, grinning at you. Your pulse jumps at that word. Hermosa. He knows exactly what he’s doing. That’s how it always starts.

“Javi,” you warn, reminding him again, “We are working. You know the rules, work then play.”

He moves closer to you, leaning over to whisper in your ear, “We’ve played at work before, cariño.” Goosebumps pebble across your skin. You hope he can’t see them with how dark it is. You crane your head away from him and grab the binoculars from the dash, choosing to ignore the burning desire between your thighs. You just need to focus on work. You feel Javi lean back in the seat, his eyes boring into the side of your head. You put the binoculars against your face, grunting in annoyance when you still can’t see anything.

“Bebé,” Javier says, grabbing the binoculars from your grip, “Let’s call it night, hmm?”

He throws them into the back seat with a smirk, leaning closer to you, grabbing the back of your neck, and gently urging you toward him. His index finger sweeps against your cheek, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. He smiles warmly at you before dipping his head to meet your lips. Your hands rest against his chest, fingers fiddling with the open V of his button-up.

You moan against his mouth when he licks your bottom lip, allowing him access to slip his tongue inside. Your tongues caressing each other, your hands move to the nape of his neck. Your lips make their way to his jaw and down his neck, your teeth lightly scrape his pulse point.

“Mira que duro me pones(look how hard you make me),” Javi says, pulling you onto his lap, grinding against your center to let you feel his growing bulge. “Te deseo(want you),” he growls.

You let out a faint gasp. Javi has a firm grip on your thighs to keep you against him, one hand finding its way to your center, palm pressing firmly against your clit through the denim of your jeans. You moan against his throat at the sensation.

“Javi,” you whimper as he flicks the button of your jeans open and begins to tug on them impatiently. “Fuck, Javi. I gotta get my damn shoes off first.”

He grabs your jeans, helping you out of them after knocking your shoes off. Javi brings his hand back to your center, rubbing precise circles against your clothed clit, moving down to pull your panties aside. Javi hums, capturing your lips again, tongue tangling with yours, enjoying feeling the slick against your slit.

“So wet,” he says, teasing two thick digits against your entrance. You hum with a nod of your head, crying out when he pushes them into your wet heat.

“Javi,” you moan, putting your head into the crook of his neck, rolling your hips in time with his fingers. “Fuck.” Beginning to feel the coil in your belly tightening.

“¿Así, bebé?(just like that, baby?)” He asks, moving his thumb to massage small quick circles on your clit. You whimper his name when he curves his fingers just right, hitting that spot he knows you love. His mouth leaving open mouth kisses along your neck, reaching your pulse point he begins to suck lightly. You can feel the coil in your belly tightening more, your walls beginning to flutter against his fingers every time he hits that spot with the pads of his fingers.

“Eres mía(you’re mine),” Javi whispers against your neck.

“So close,” You whine, moving your hips faster, his fingers sinking in deeper with each roll of your hips. He moves his head from your neck to look at you, gripping the back of his neck, crashing your mouth into his. Javi moans, beginning to feel your walls clamp around his fingers. The coil in your belly snaps, shooting white-hot lightning through your entire body. Your hand pulls onto the hair at the nape of his neck, causing Javi to let out a guttural groan, pulling you back down from your high.

“Fuck me,” you sigh against his lips.

“That’s the plan, cariño(honey),” Javi smirks, kissing you again, scooting to lay his back against the seat.

Your hands slide down his chest, popping open the buttons of his shirt. You smirk, leaning into his collarbone and placing soft kisses before biting down gently.

“Fuck, bebé(baby),” Javi says sucking in a breath, moving his hands between your bodies to fumble with his belt, “Te necesito(need you)”

You lift up, swatting his hand away to work his belt and jeans open. He lifts his hips and helps you lower his jeans, his stiff member slapping against his stomach.

“Javier Peña,” you tsk, shaking your head at him, “Commando? Did you miss laundry day?”

“Knew about this assignment for weeks now. Asked to be paired up with you,” Javi smiles, wiggling his eyebrows. “Figured this would happen.”

“Oh, fuck off!” You laugh, playfully smacking his chest.

“Awe, come on now, chica sucía(dirty girl)” Javi says, placing your hands on his chest, “You know it’s—“

You grind against his cock, hands pressing firmly against his chest and he lets out a groan.

“That’s one way to get you to shut up,” you grin, slowly grinding your wetness along his shaft, the tip catching your bundle of nerves with every roll of your hips. Javi shifts up grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you to his lips in a hungry kiss. He moves his hand down to line his cock up to your entrance and you slowly sink down on it, taking it inch by inch. You're no stranger to Javi’s cock but each time feels like the first with how thick he is.

“Estás tan apretada, mi amor(you’re so tight, my love)” Javi growls, against your throat, “No pares(don’t stop)” holding onto your hips as you sink further down on him, ass cheeks finally resting on his thighs. You kiss him, both of you taking a minute to savor the feel of one another, Javi gently rubbing his fingers up and down your spine with one hand while the other holds your cheek.

“You’re so beautiful,” Javi murmurs, caressing his nose against your cheek before capturing your lips again, moaning into the kiss as you tentatively roll your hips. His hand settles on your lower back, letting you take control at a slow tempo, letting you enjoy the way his cock massages your inner walls. You moan feeling your nipples beginning to harden between your layers and his chest.

“Javi!” You gasp when he snaps his hips holding onto your lower back firmly.

“Need to see you,” Javi huffs, moving his hand from your face to your shoulder and pushing you to sit up, breath hitching as you swallow more of his length into your core. He rids you of your tank top and pushes the cups of your bra down. You begin to lightly bounce on his cock, moaning at the feel of his hands on you, fingers from one hand beginning to pinch your left nipple while his other hand slides down your ribs, gripping your waist. “Eres mía(you’re mine),” he growls. You can feel your climax nearing, your thighs beginning to shake, feeling the heat running through your body as you bounce.

“Want to take you out,” Javi grunts, your walls begin to tighten at his words, “Make sure that ev-fuck-everyone knows you’re my girl,” he rambles, gripping your waist tighter, snapping his hips into you. “Eres mía(you’re mine).”

“Javi,” you cry out, wanting all of those things and more, your walls fluttering around his shaft, “Fuck, Javi- yes, yes, yes, yes!” Your walls clamp down on him, milking his cock while your vision blurs.

“Fuck,” Javi whines, hips stuttering, emptying himself inside you. He sits up, wrapping his arms around your back to pull you closer to him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, kissing him softly, leaning your forehead against his, trying to catch your breath. Javi looks into your eyes and grins as his softening cock slips out of you.

“I’m serious, corazón,” Javi says, “Want it all.”

“Me too,” You nod, a grin stretching from ear to ear on your face.

“Peña?” You hear the radio chirp against the dash, Murphy beginning to call for you as well. “Anyone there?”

You giggle as Javi leans over, keeping a grip on you in his lap to reach the receiver. “Peña here.”

“The hell are you guys?” Murphy asks, “It’s been raining like cats and dogs for a fuckin’ hour, and no word from either of you!”

“Heading back now,” you say, shaking your head and laughing.

#UndercoverAprilShowersChallenge #pedro pascal characters #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x reader #javier peña narcos #javier pena smut #javier peña x you

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i9messi · 11 months

Note

hiiii 🩵 could i request a mason imagine where he’s dating the daughter of messi??? and let’s say that leo has invited him over at their house for a vacation but little ciro is really close with reader so he gets a little jealous :’)) all fluff please tysm i love ur imagines 🥺

Summer trip — Mason Mount

Word count — 1,3k

mason’s masterlist

"Vamos, Ciro, sonreí un poco." (Come on, Ciro, smile a little.)

Your brother however continued with that angry face, no smile appeared on his lips. The thing was, you had a boyfriend, a lovely boyfriend. Mason and you had been dating for a while now, your family already knew him and they liked each other. This summer was the first time you decided to go on vacation together but your younger brother hated the idea. Ciro was overprotective over you, you were his older sister and he didn’t like your boyfriend’s presence there.

Ever since your boyfriend showed up with his travel bags, he was even more childish and angry. Ciro made mean comments in spanish and even reproached you for bringing Mason on a family trip.

Your boyfriend appeared with a glass full of cold water and you thanked him, giving him a short kiss on the lips. He was so cute you could kiss him every single damn minute, but your family was there too, so you had to be more private with your affection.

"I love you." He kissed you again and then he looked at the child, smiling at him.

"Que asco." (How disgusting) Ciro complained, knowing that Mason couldn't understand him.

"No seas malo." (Don’t be mean.)

"What’s wrong?" Mason tried to understand what you were saying but his level of Spanish was not good.

"¿Cuándo se va a ir?" (When is he leaving?) Your brother kept asking the same question.

"Ciro! Es mi novio y tenes que tolerarlo por el resto del viaje." (He’s my boyfriend and you have to tolerate him for the rest of the trip.)

"¿Quién lo dice?" (Who says it?)

"Yo." (Me)

Ciro got up from his chair and gave you one last look, until he went to play football with his brothers. You let out a sigh, your brother was making it hard to stay calm during your trip. You loved him, but you just wanted your boyfriend and your brother to get along for a few hours.

"What's wrong, lovely?"

You took the chance of the fact that your brother left you alone and you told him what was going on. Once you explained Ciro was jealous, Mason laughed.

"Oh, everything makes sense now."

"What?"

"This morning I poured myself a glass of water and it was very salty, your little brother was smiling weirdly at me. Also, I can’t find my shoes anywhere and I think my toothbrush has a weird taste— like, a taste of soap. I think perhaps someone is doing things to upset me."

"Oh lord."

"It’s fine, he’s your brother and it’s okay that he wants to protect you, he sees me as a treat."

"You're not a treat, Mase."

"Well, I'm stealing his favourite girl. I get it, if someone stole you from me, I would be mad."

You smiled, Mason knew how to make you feel things in your chest. In a second you were mad at your little brother and now you were smiling at what your boyfriend said.

"But I love you, he has to get used to your presence."

"I take the consequences of falling in love with you. I don’t care if the little Messi tries to kill me, I’m gonna stay by your side."

"Will you? Are you sure? My brother can be very stubborn when he wants to."

Mason laughed again at your drama. Little did you know that your brother never gave up.

"I can also be very stubborn when I want to, and I love you, so that little boy has to get used to my presence."

"Good luck trying to fight with my brother, he will win."

You were totally sure that your brother was able to piss off even the quietest person in the world, your brother might look cute and all, but he was a devil.

"Fight? Who says I'm gonna fight with him? That kid will love me."

You both got up from the chair to go back to the water, your dad was taking care of your brothers as your mom was taking pictures of them at the beach. Your dad was Lionel Messi, Mason admired him and he was like a little boy when he met him the very first time. It still seemed a little unreal that he had fallen in love with the daughter of his greatest idol.

You went into the water for a while with your surfboards, Mason didn’t know how to surf so you had to explain a little and help him. It was too much fun, so much so that you didn’t realize how long it had taken you. The sunset had arrived and when you came out of the water, your parents and brothers had already left the beach.

"Babe, have you seen my towel? I swear I left it here."

"Oh no."

"Your brother."

You both came to the same conclusion. Ciro must have taken Mason’s towel to piss him off. The british made a pot and you offered him your towel. He took it and put it on his shoulders, then extended his arms to you.

"Come here, we’ll dry together."

Mason left you a kiss on your lips and you looked into his eyes. It was a little cold now that you were wet and it was getting dark, but his hot arms made you feel better. As you were alone, you allowed ourselves to show your love. With the kids around, you and Mason tried to not show signs of affection around them.

"I love you, darling."

Mason was so sweet, he made your heart beat as if you were on a roller coaster. He was so attentive and affectionate that every day you fell more in love.

"I know this trip may seem a little weird and my brother is trying to make your life miserable, but I really enjoy being here with you, Mase."

"I enjoy being here with you, love. I don’t want to be anywhere else, you’re my home."

"And you're my everything."

You and Mason had a good time on the beach, kissing and holding hands. There were plenty of beautiful seashells in the sand. Once it was late enough, you returned home and put on dry clothes. You went to the living room and found Ciro looking at Mason with a malevolent smile. Your brother returned the gaze at your boyfriend and with his best attempt at spanish, he spoke with the boy.

"¿Quieres jugar un juego?" (Do you want to play a game?)

Ciro looked at you first and then looked at him. A naughty smile intensified in his mouth.

"Voy a ganar." (I’m gonna win)

"Let's see."

Mason sat next to your brother and the two started playing FIFA. You saw them, not before telling them both to behave, as if they were kids. Your dad was sitting in an armchair a few feet away, so you came over and stood beside him.

"¿Crees que algún día se van a llevar bien?" (Do you think they’ll ever get along?)

"Miralos, parecen empezar a llevarse bien." (Look at them, they seem to be getting along.)

You followed his gaze, your brother was laughing at something Mason said. When Mason looked at you again, he winked at you. His lips whispered a ‘trust me.’

Later on, the game was won by your brother and Mason made a pot, sitting next to you.

"He is good."

"He is."

"Little by little I'll make your brother love me, it's impossible to not love me."

"You’re a bit smug."

"Don’t ya love me?"

Truth was, you really love him. And he knew it.

"I do."

"Now I need to make another Messi to love me. It was incredibly hard to catch your attention, I hope he's easier."

Mason was already thinking of all the ways he could make your brother feel comfortable with him. He made a mental list of what they had in common with the little boy, in order to try to find a connection between the two.

"Dummy."

"I love you, princess."

He kissed you and again, Ciro appeared to make a disgusting gesture.

"Que asco." (How disgusting.)

"Ciro!"

Mason little did he know that your brother was going to play another prank on him that night. After all, the Messis never gave up.

#mason mount x reader #mason mount drabble #mason mount fluff #mason mount #mason mount imagine #mount #chelsea #chelsea fc #football imagines #football player fanfic #football players #mason mount x you #mason mount x y/n

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kairismess · 5 months

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HIHIII! ik i’ve requested like 300000 times but your works are just so amazing 😣😣 but i’ve always just associated Suna with the song Love Language by ariana grande (it’s quite apparent i love her) for some reason. the song is abt trying to learn your partner’s love language so we can love better and i just love picturing that with him😫 Maybe reader can have that mentality along with the end part of the song with “i’m not what you had before, your ex girlfriend don’t want no smoke… i’m just gon make you my home”. bye i just think it’s so cute lolol 😣😣😣

rintaro's love language . . .

🏐 genre: fluff ~ !

✒️ word count: 645

💭 summary: rintaro's been noticing how strange you've been acting lately around him... almost as if you were trying to get something out of him. he doesn't mind, though—he'd love to give you what you're looking for so badly.

🍥 author's note: OOOOOOOO THAT'S SUCH A CUTE IDEA !!! I LOVE IT !! i hope this is any good :'DD

being seated on this boy's lap was the last thing you expected.

his mint green eyes stared into your own, balancing your weight on his string thigh, bouncing you up and down on it here and there to tease you a little. this is what you wanted though, right? to know what it really was that rintaro was into? to know what he loves to give you and take from you? well, you got it now—now you aren't leaving his lap no matter how much and how cutely you squirm and act all shy under his gaze.

for the past few weeks, rintaro noticed the sudden changes and the subtle glances and gestures you've been giving him; it wasn't so uncharacteristic of you, just a little... a little different. he didn't mind, he loved everything you did, even if it wasn't that obvious. he was a little curious every now and then why you were acting that way, but he figured instead of asking you, he'd beat you at your own game by observing you as you observed him.

you were always offering him some sweets in between breaks, and you always offered to walk home with him and hold his hand all sneakily—you were like a cunning little fox, and he oddly loved seeing you act like you weren't up to anything. he pretended not to notice and went with the flow as you kept showering him with affection, not realizing he had caught on long ago when he noticed your smile was laced with a few undertones of something mysterious. it didn't help your case when he had paid attention and remembered the details of the passing comments you made back then when talking to him, asking him if he had an ideal kind of affection he wanted you to give him.

he never understood what that meant, "a specific kind of affection"... until he caught a glance at your phone and realized what you meant. going on those love expert sites helped you get an idea of how to woo him over even more, but it also gave rintaro the idea that what you really wanted was to see what would make him melt... and fortunately, you hadn't figured it out yet. luckily for him, he was curious as to what your love language was, too—so in a bold gesture... he sat you down on his lap when no one was looking, and wrapped his lean but strong arm around your waist, bringing his face so close to you, that your noses were brushing against each other's.

he seemed so nonchalant about it, too... it was too much for you. your face burned and your lips quivered; you stuttered out questions, your mind ran a million miles an hour—but all rintaro did was peck a kiss on your cheekbone, placing his other arm around you, embracing you. "can i help that this is what i wanna do with you all along?" he murmurs as he gently caresses your waist, humming in lazy satisfaction, leaning his head down on your shoulder, closing his sharp eyes as he takes in the scent and feeling of being this close to you.

"y'know..." he murmurs as he runs his thumb over your tinier palm, pressing down on it gently. "...no one else has ever made me feel this way. i'm not really clingy, per se, but... i'd do anything to have you this close to me for a long, long while." he finished, planting a sweet kiss on your neck, not caring if the others came back to see this public display of his affection for you. he couldn't care less, all he cares about now is giving you what you want—and letting you know that he's more than willing to give you more of this than just this one occasion.

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jtl-fics · 11 months

Text

Fluent Freshman - Part 18

Weirdly enough the only thing that FF can think of as they head down the stairs is the first Saw movie.

That one happened IN a bathroom right? He kind of watched all of them in a row to prepare himself for whatever Andrew might decide to do to him. But he’s near positive that one happened in a bathroom. It was derelict and he didn’t think it really had running water (or did it? Didn’t the guy wake up in a half-full tub? His memory is hazy in his bathroom related desperation and may be trying to protect him from thinking about water).

All leading to the main thought going through his head as he slowly headed down the narrow stairway to his death.

Would Andrew let him use the facilities before he’s handcuffed to a pipe?

The worst part about all of this is that he is not sure if he needs to take a dump or if he just needs to fart, he knows he has to take a piss. He’s read that when you die your body will relax and it’ll all just flow out of you and Nicky gave him these pants so he feels bad but he also does not want to face his death without pants. If he needs to take a shit then they’re definitely going to be absolutely ruined, if it’s a fart well…Andrew can’t kill him any further? He can mutilate his corpse a little but FF won’t be around to experience it.

No matter what he’s definitely going to piss himself. He had way too much water at Sweeties trying to consume the spicy ice cream.

You may be wondering why FF has not run away from his predicament and is walking down these steps without protest or comment or plea for his life.

First of all he is pretty sure that if he makes any sudden movements he will ruin these pants that Nicky bought for him. Second of all Andrew had already told him once that he wouldn’t accept any pleading for mercy he still remembers how he asked Andrew, “Please give me back my pen?” and Andrew had shot him a look that had his stomach cramp and his fingers itch for the bottle sweet pink relief in his backpack.

“I don’t like that word, don’t use it around me.” He said.

FF ever the pragmatic sort, “Which one?” He had asked because he had said a few, “I don’t want there to be a misunderstanding.” He followed up with when Andrew glowered at him only for the glare’s intensity to increase 10 fold.

“Don’t use the first word of your first statement or the last word of your second.” Andrew grit out and got up to leave without a word.

Message received loud and clear Andrew did NOT like words ‘Please’ or ‘Misunderstanding’.

So FF knows that any pleading for mercy would ABSOLUTELY result in Andrew not letting him take a bathroom break before him and Captain Neil make destroying him into a couple activity. The fact that Captain Neil is here is a bit of a shock but maybe Captain Neil has finally gotten the other Freshman Dealer up to snuff.

Maybe Kevin really did want to dissect him to figure out how Strikers keep passing straight to him?

They reach the door at the bottom of the stairs.

Ah, time to face the music.

At least he’d texted Gran that he was going to die when they had gotten into the club and the bathroom had not made itself readily apparent. Sure it was about his current ‘gotta piss / gotta shit’ situation but he’d been wise to keep his cause of death vague in that text.

The door opens and…

This is the NICEST torture chamber FF has EVER seen. (And after his desperation watch of all the Saw movies he has seen quite a FEW)

“Minyard, Josten, and Guest. Table 6 is yours.” A voice comes from the side and when he looks over there’s a man in quite a nice uniform standing behind a soft-lit bar polishing a glass looking every bit like a bar tender at those high-end places you see in movies. He looks around a bit more and there are some other people down here. It’s not quiet per se but it is a comfortable level of noise in comparison to the IQ dropping noise upstairs.

“C’mon Smith.” Andrew juts his chin towards a table in the back.

FF follows but continues to try and fit this nice little room into his world view.

Do these people watch other people get tortured to death for fun on a Friday night? Unlikely considering the upholstery on the booths and chairs looked like it’d stain if blood got on it. Was this perhaps a trafficking location where Andrew would sell off his organs to the highest bidder? He looked at the other patrons who seemed a bit higher class than the general club scene upstairs but not like they had the money to buy one of his kidneys. Maybe-

“Do not tell Nicky about this place, ever.” Andrew says as they slide into the booth. FF nods but can’t help but tilt his head slightly in an unspoken question, “He would absolutely tell any and everyone about it. Eden’s wants to keep this place a secret from the general public.” Andrew explains.

“Nicky currently thinks that there’s a straight swingers club down here.” Captain Neil says with a huff of laughter.

“Eden’s is cool, even though there’s some sick shit in the basement.” Floats through his head again.

What the fuck was a swinger?

His fingers itch for his phone but he’s currently talking with Andrew and Captain Neil so that’d be rude but they’re talking to him like he absolutely knows what a swinger is and he DOES NOT.

“It’s quieter down here. Figured you’d prefer it.” Andrew says as he gets up and heads towards the bar down here where the bartender was aggressively cutting ice chunks.

He and Captain Neil sit in silence for a few seconds before Captain Neil offers him a slight smile, “I know you’d rather be with your grandma and you and Andrew prefer not to say things out loud but we’ve really liked hanging out with you.” Captain Neil says.

????????????????????????????????????????????????

That’s such a nice thing to say to someone.

Especially someone like FF.

Especially especially when they’re planning on killing him?

He hopes his confusion stays off his face as he nods once. “It’s been fun.” It’s not even really a lie. Thanksgiving yesterday had been nice and loud and FF had missed the chaos of a Family Dinner more than he had ever realized. The car ride had been…a time but once he’d asked Andrew to either keep his eyes on the road or let him out Andrew’s hands had stayed at 10 and 2 and the ride had been smooth. Aaron and Nicky’s weight against him had been nice too, a warm memory before he developed a possible life long aversion to whipped cream. He’d gotten to go Black Friday shopping and Captain Neil even helped carry it home for him. Baking bad been nice even if the stress of doing it with his life on the line was less so. The subsequent nap and day spent doing normal college guy things had been…it’d all been nice.

It’s starting to feel like….

“Drink this.” Andrew puts a drink down in front of him.

No Andrew definitely wants his bladder to burst.

“What is it?” He asks instead looking at the creamy looking drink with suspicion.

Andrew rolls his eyes as he hands Neil a fruity looking drink as he sits with what is a few fingers of scotch. “It’s virgin.” Andrew says not answering the question at all and must pick up that FF won’t be drinking it until he gets the full answer because he continues after a moment, “It’s like a Pina Colada but with bananas instead.” Andrew answers.

It’s not that FF hates banana but why in the world would Andrew grab him this? Was it just one of the few virgins options on this place’s fancy menu or-

“Bananas will help get your stomach acid back down.” Andrew says, “Since you’re an idiot and ate that mango ice cream just because you wanted to impress that girl.” He rolls his eyes.

“Impress that girl?” There weren’t any girls at the table and how in the world would him eating that god-forsaken spicy ice cream impress anyone other than Betsy. Even Betsy would only be impressed by the depths he was willing to reach just to avoid what he perceives as an awkward social situation.

“The waitress.” Neil reminds him as if that cleared anything up.

“Yeah,” he says as if he has understood the conversation but he has not. “It was spicy mango.” He says because maybe if he keeps the conversation going he’ll get enough context clues to understand what might be his last conversation.

Andrew let out a huff of laughter and pushed FF’s drink closer to him, “Drink your fancy Banana smoothie Casanova.” He says.

No closer to understanding the conversation he accepts that it might be something that only becomes clear after he sheds his mortal coil and is no longer given a -10 INT debuff by his full bladder and revolting stomach.

He takes a sip.

Oh that’s actually pretty good.

It feels like he can feel it sizzling in his stomach and soothing the discomfort there. Maybe he should look into Banana smoothies as a replacement for what Abby has called a ‘concerning co-dependence’ in regards to Pepto Bismol. No one can put him on a medical watch if it’s just banana smoothies he’s chugging down like they’re going out of style.

“Thanks,” he says, “that was good.” He admits before reaching into his jacket and moving past the Megamind toy and grabbing his wallet. “What do I owe you for that?” He asks.

“We’re even.” Andrew waves away the money.

“You bought the stuff for breakfast, those brownies, and the pie tomorrow.” Neil says and FF blinks surprised to hear that they were talking about the pie he didn’t think he was going to get the chance to make.

“You don’t need to buy a spot with us.” Andrew says and FF leans back slightly at the intensity on Andrew’s face as he says it. “I invited you here because I wanted to. The brownies were good but if you don’t feel like making the pie tomorrow? It’s not like I’m going to drive you back to Palmetto and leave you on Abby’s doorstep.” He says.

FF feels gears start to turn in his head.

“It’s good pie.” He hears himself say.

“I didn’t even know about the pie when I invited you.” Andrew says and…

Andrew and FF sit in silence but honestly it’s not like Andrew’s sharpening his knives. The two of them mostly just do their own work or read. FF has been getting his German literacy up to snuff so that he can read the language when he goes there to visit Nicky’s fiance next year. He likes how serious Andrew is about learning it so that he doesn’t have to ask Captain Neil a thousand questions and it’d be nice if Andrew wasn’t obviously planning on murdering him.

Andrew brings dried apples and sends Captain Neil along with probiotic yogurts to their meetings. Both of those things tend to soothe his stomach and the yogurt that had been unflavored before was now vanilla which he liked a fair bit. It would have been a really nice gesture if it wasn’t for the fact that Andrew was making fun of his tummy troubles.

Andrew will put his foot down in practice sometimes when Kevin is getting too demanding wanting to know exactly how FF intercepted his passes to Neil. Kevin always backs off and Andrew will do the same when Jack starts to get a little too personal in his attacks at FF or when Sheena decides she’s going to be a bitch. It’d be nice if it wasn’t Andrew staking his claim that he was the one who was going to make FF’s life miserable.

Andrew drove FF around for an hour after Greg had shown up. He found out later from one of his friends that Andrew had threatened Greg after he had power walked away into the building. Andrew had driven him around and had only started heading towards the tower when FF had relaxed. It would have been nice if Andrew wasn’t trying to lure him into a false sense of security.

Andrew had invited him to his Family’s house over Thanksgiving when the bad storm had ruined his Thanksgiving plans. Andrew had threatened Jack to stop him from eating his Grandma’s pie and complaining about it. Andrew had stopped messing around with Captain Neil when FF had made it clear he was uncomfortable being in a car where the driver wasn’t paying attention to the road. Andrew had twice made him go to bed in the last couple hours.

It’d be nice if…

“We’ve really liked hanging out with you” Captain Neil had said.

Andrew was just trying to be nice.

Embarrassment rolls over him like a wave but FF has many years of pretending like he’s not going to die from embarrassment, “Thanks for inviting me. I’ll still probably make the pie tomorrow.” He offers.

Andrew’s eyes change slightly and FF is under the impression that he’s happy to hear that.

“Just enjoy your drink Smith.” Andrew says.

FF does go back to sipping his drink and letting more and more memories of things Andrew had done come to him and lets his embarrassment grow.

He finishes his drink and only then realizes that he is a code red in terms of bladder capacity. The new knowledge that this is not a torture chamber but in fact yet another overture of friendship from Andrew paired with his desperation finally loosens the question from his mouth, “Where’s the bathroom here?” He asks.

“There isn’t one downstairs but just head up stairs and hug the wall to the left.” Captain Neil answers.

“Bring your phone. If Frank doesn’t recognize you to let you back in.” Andrew reminds him.

FF nods and heads out of the club and up the stairs.

He might be doing a bit of a potty dance so he forces himself to become unnoticeable because he does not need cool people at a cool club to see him about to piss himself. Once he enters into a stealth mode that the United States Military would like to talk to him about he hugs the wall and nearly cries tears of relief when he sees a door labelled MEN.

He doesn’t think about the possibility of letting up on stealth mode because he is sure that he is about to make a face that he does NOT want any human being to see when he unzips his pants and starts to take the world’s most life-affirming piss on the planet.

As his bladder empties his brain is able to process the understanding that he had come to down in the basement he had thought would be his final resting place.

Andrew has been trying to be nice (and succeeding it was all so nice! He feels like an asshole! He is an asshole! Gran always told him that assuming makes an Ass out of U and Me. He had just thought it was funny grandma humor not valuable life advice!)

The night wasn’t going to end with Andrew’s knife in his stomach, it was probably just going to end with Nicky puking on his shoes (which is fine because these are the shoes Nicky was letting him borrow for the club anyways, they’re his shoes to puke onto.)

A secondary relief fills his system. His stomach, soothed by the Banana smoothie and now this, feels like it might actually let him live through the night.

While FF was distracted with a piss that would have made any number of cult leaders jealous with the number of divine revelations he was experiencing he failed to notice a second man enter the bathroom.

There was a reason that FF always ALWAYS became noticeable when he was at a urinal and the man who came to the urinal right next to him was showcasing that VERY reason.

He was trapped here for at least ten more seconds and he could hear the man grumbling distractedly but didn’t really pay it too much attention until…

“Fucking Wesninski Brat.” He grumbled under his breath.

Oh god dammit.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

Per your requests:

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie @theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lillyndra @themugglemudperson @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo @next-level-mess @youreonlylow @interstellarfig @notprocrastinatingatalltoday @percyjacksonfan3 @queenofcrazy27 @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares @spencellio @adinthedarkroom @harpymoth @sufferingjustalilbit @anxietymoss @oddgreyhound @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken @ken22789 @atiredvampire @isoldescorner @not--a--pipedream @azure-wing @bushbees @roonilwazlib-main @crumplelush @foldedaces-paperbirds @thesenseinnonsense @let-tyrants-fear

#Fluent Freshman AU #FINALLY CAN PUT DOWN MY TAGS #You have no idea the number of times that I had to sing hollaback girl to myself during this #It was B-A-N-A-N-A-S #We have now closed the 'Andrew is going to crazy murder me' emotional arc #The 'Oh god if Andrew or Neil find out that I know Russian they're going to stop being my friends and hate me' arc begins #He's gotten a confirmed 3 friends today #And he got to go to the bathroom #He's riding a high #Not only is it 3 friends it is 3 friends who like him enough to invite him to spend the holiday break together #That's so nice #Andrew is so nice #FF cannot BELIEVE he thought Andrew 'eat these dried apples' Minyard was going to stab him #Captain Neil is lucky to have him #Also Andrew is lucky to have Captain Neil #Neil and Andrew are definitely down in the Speakeasy right now enjoying FF's bathroom break #Andrew's ordered FF another round of Banana daiquiri #Andrew: I can't believe he ate that ice cream. His stomach must have been killing him.#Neil: Yeah he was really pale and sweaty until he started drinking that banana drink #Neil: I'm a little worried about Smith finding the bathroom. Maybe I should go up?#Andrew hand on Neil's thigh: he'll be fine. We can go look if he's not back in 10.#AFTG AU #AFTG OC #AFTG #AFTG Shitpost #AFTG Fic #My Fic #Andreil #FF - Pt.18

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thechurchoftheradiodemon · 18 days

Text

I've been mulling over something. I read one of Vivzie's interviews lately and I've come to some conclusions about Alastor's character (these are just my own theories, though, so we'll see how everything actually develops in s2).

Unfortunately, I believe, canonically, Alastor is NOT aromantic. Maybe on the aro-spectrum, and deffinitely asexual, but not aro per se. In this interview, Vivzie confirms Alastor's asexuality, and plays with his aro identity saying something like "I don't want to ruin people's fun with him". This could be queerbaiting in a sense (I don't actually think so, when Vivzie is high on queer representation, but aro people are very left behind in the community, sadly).

But she continues to add on that there are plans for Alastor in the future of the series, saying something like "I can't confirm that he is aromantic". To me, this reads like we will see romance in Alastor's life in season 2, wether it's a past lover/romantic interest or a new one I could not say. She would've had no problem in confirming Alastor as aromantic otherwise, and I interpret this as Vivzie not wanting to spoil part of the plot.

I used to think that Alastor's deal would most surely be with Lilith, but, while it could be the case, I'm not so sure anymore (although it could be a fun dinamic). But, nontheless, I think Lilith's and Alastor's 7 year absence and his deal are intertwinded somehow.

My bet, for the future romance plot, is that it could be one of these three: either Lilith, whom the fandom is already considering in a sense; the mysterious Eve, or... Lucifer. HEAR ME OUT. I don't say this as a Radioapple enjoyer. The reasons I think it could be Lucifer are the same that I think it could be Eve (although we know absolutely nothing about her).

Mainly, I draw these conclusions from the early comic Zoophobia, from where we know Alastor's character was taken. In this comic, his character is supposed to have a crush on the character of KayCee, a powerful being with whom he could have made an alliance to reign chaos.

KayCee's descriptions could match either of the three romantic interests I mentioned, but what strikes me more are her defining traits: white and gold colour palette, and the apple. We know not all of Vivzie's characters stem from Zoophobia, and the ones that do have (understandably so) went through important changes through the years, mediums and aesthetics.

BUT these could be some clues into what we might discover in s2 of Hazbin. And, so long, the character we've seen fit this palette and apple motif is none other than Lucifer himself. Eve, on the other hand, is also shown during the intro sporting some sort of apple motif, which could be indicative of her future appearance in the series. But we know so little about her, and, knowing Hazbin Hotel will only have 2 seasons confirmed, I'm not sure we will see more of her.

I personally don't like the idea of losing Alastor as an aromantic character. I'd much rather not see him in a romantic relationship whatsoever in the canon series. But that is not my call to make, and he will always be our ace-king no matter what. Also, that wouldn't mean his story or character will be less interesting or developed. So we'll have to wait and see...

(This is visual representation of me reaching these conclusions, btw)

I would love to hear what other fans think about this, so if you want to leave and opinion in the comments we can discuss!

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badaziraphaletakes · 2 months

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can you please stop? screenshotting someone else’s post is extremely rude and only makes the fandom a worse place. talk about a bad take you saw, describe how it’s harmful, and vague all you want, but don’t screenshot. i agree that most of these takes are awful but that’s no excuse to do this to people. either confront the person who’s take you don’t like or make your own post. stop screenshotting, please.

Either confront the person who’s take you don’t like or make your own post.

The assumption that I didn’t try that is where you went wrong. I (mod X) started this blog only after I tried many, many times to confront people about their offensive takes directly and it didn’t work. I was subjected to appalling harassment and even bigotry. That’s what happens when you try to engage with someone who’s being offensive.

I had been throwing the idea around for weeks and what finally decided me on starting it was that I found out that I wasn't alone. That the anti-Autistic bias and the ableism and the transphobia and the victim-blaming and the misogyny (and on and on and on) that we kept seeing and being subjected to was ruining our enjoyment of this show. This was bigger than just me.

FTR, most of the takes that are submitted to us (note that I'll be switching between "I" and "we" in this reply depending on the context) don’t have a handle attached to them, but of the few that do include a handle, 99% of the time I have recognized it as someone who I have seen being so bigoted that there was no possible way I could engage with them. We don't confront people directly partly because we don't want to direct people who disagree back to the OP's blog, and partly to keep the mods safe.

You say “do this to people” like this blog is committing some kind of outrage, which is absurd. We are, at worst, being slightly rude (which I think is justified considering sarcasm and humor are one of the only weapons we have to fight back against hate), whereas most of the posts we comment on are outright hateful. They’re the ones “doing this to people”.

We are being far more considerate of the writers’ feelings and their dignity than they ever were of other people’s in the fandom. The takes are not just ‘awful’ (although, that too haha); they are actively harming vulnerable members of the fandom, and, more concerningly, are spreading messages that will poison our views on how we should treat Autistic people, ab*se survivors, and the like in broader society. Quite frankly, the people who are spouting the kind of anti-Autistic/ableist/victim-blaming/otherwise bigoted crap that forms the bulk of the content we feature here deserve to have their posts screenshotted. People who say things like that do not deserve to be handled with kid gloves in response.

(Also I don’t have time to re-type and slightly paraphrase every bad take I see. And if I did, people would throw out “no one is really saying this”. And even if it weren’t for that, I don’t think it’s reasonable or appropriate to expect me to use my time that way.)

Incidentally, nothing is stopping people from messaging/asking us or commenting if they recognize a post as their own, but only one person has ever done that, asking if a post was theirs. I replied that it was, leaving the ball in their court. So far we haven’t heard back from them about the matter, which is fine. But I digress.

As for this blog making the fandom a worse place - even though it’s only a few weeks old, I’ve had an average of two new people a day, every day, tell me how grateful they are I created it and how it makes them feel safe and how it’s the only reason they haven’t left the fandom. I’ve even had multiple people say “I was going to leave the fandom because of that specific post and then your blog called it out and I felt like I wasn’t alone”. So yeah, I'd say screenshotting is important here.

There is a subset of the fandom - many of us Autistic, Disabled, ab*se survivors, GNC, trans, and/or otherwise oppressed - who have been made to feel EXTRAORDINARILY unsafe by the Aziraphale hate (which far, far too often is thinly-veiled hate for some of the aforementioned groups of people) and the truly scary way people double down when we push back against it. So I don’t care if people are annoyed by my sharing a screenshot of their post. Not when this blog has become a safe space for so many people who otherwise would have had Good Omens ruined for them by the bigotry and general hatefulness we keep seeing.

LSS I will not stop building this tiny lil corner of the internet that is the only part of the fandom where many of us feel safe.

I actually made a post addressing almost this exact thing a couple weeks ago; if I can find it, I’ll add it here in a rb.

#good omens #goodomens #good omens 2 #badaziraphaletakes #goodomens2

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yourtypicalslvt · 9 months

Note

Could you do a Fermin smut when he punishes the reader for being a brat? 💘

Brat

Fermin Lopez x fem!reader

Summary:Request says it all

Word count:2.2k

-Warnings Dom!Fermin, Sub!reader Fingering, Stimulation, orgasm denial, p in v, spanish , use of Papi in a sexual way, crying, Aftercare!! Just pure filth.

A/N- This honestly took me like at least a week to make idk why. Also first time writting smut in years😭

To say the least fermin was pissed. He is pissed because you've been acting like a brat all morning. Not doing the simplest things he's asked you , even was as far to give him attitude when he was leaving for training like telling him to stay with you, that you could entertain him in a different ways and when he told you no, that he couldn't miss training because if he did xavi would probably leave him out next game. After he explained why he couldn't stay you started whining.

Fermin was done with your bullshit at that point so he bent down (since you were a couple inches shorter than him) and whispered in your ear "sigue comportándote así y luego te arrepentirás" and just left.(keep behaving like that and you'll regret it.)

That small comment had you weak, but even if you were weak you still weren't done being a brat. So while he was at practice you decided to shower put on some light makeup on and a lingerie dress that made your tits look perkier and barely covered your bottom (x).

It's been almost two hours since fermin had left and that meant he could get here anytime soon so you started cooking up dinner. Peeling and cutting some potatoes and cooking your meat. Halfway cooking you heard the front door open and you obviously knew it was Fermin.

“Hi amor Ya llegue” was the first thing fermin said when walking into the kitchen, checking your outfit out. (Love, i'm here.)

“Lo sé, literal mente estás aquí conmigo, genio” you said with an eye roll which he did not appreciate it since he landed a hard smack on your ass making you squeal in pain. (I know, you're literally here with me, genius)

"No se quien te crees pero a mi no hables así, me entiendes? Yo no soy tu amigo o hermano pa' que me hables así". (I don't know who you think you are but don't talk like that to me, do you understand me? I am not your friend or brother so that you talk to me like that)

"Claro, lo que dices" you scoff continuing with your cooking. Fermin was still upset with you, he grabbed your arm hard and whispered into your ear. (clear whatever you say)

"Me voy a ir a duchar, deja la comida ahi y te espero en la cama , que ya me canse de tus tonterias, te has portada como una mocosa y necesitas un castigo, no crees"? His eyes are dark, and you can tell he's not playing around, and you know that if you disobey him you'll get a bigger punishment. ('m going to take a shower, leave the food there and I'll wait for you in bed, I'm tired of your nonsense, you've behaved like a brat and you need a punishment, don't you think")

"Yes sir" you ended up saying, turning off the stove and heading into the bedroom while Fermin made his way to the bathroom.

"Ohhh my g-god" You moan out while Fermin was pumping his fingers in and out of you. "No bebe dios no es el que te hace sentir tan bien" You weren't even paying attention to whatever he was saying, the pleasure his fingers are giving you bring you closer to your orgasm. Fermin knew your body very well so he knew when your getting close. (No baby, god isn’t the one making you feel good)

You whine out when he took his fingers out of your dripping pussy for the first time. You were desperate you wanted to cum but you knew this would happen if you acted like a brat.

“Papi por favor, déjame correr estoy desesperada” you cried out when he plunges his fingers back into you.(daddy please let me cum, im desperate)

“Mi vida, tu no eras una buena chica hoy, no creo que to lo mereces” you were sobbing at this point and he hasn’t even put his cock into you, just his fingers.

“Por favor, perdóname por no ser una buena chica, te prometo que nunca mas voy a actuar de esta manera, solo por favor te suplico que me folles, por favor papi , por favor” you were close to your orgasm but you knew he wasn’t going to let you cum on his fingers. (Please forgive me for not being a good girl, I promise I'll never act this way again, just please I'm begging you to fuck me please daddy please.)

“Mira a mi preciosa bebe arruinada por solo mis dedos y suplicando que te folle, hm tal vez lo haga solo por que te vez muy preciosa suplicándome” (Look at my beautiful babe ruined by just my fingers and begging me to fuck you, hm maybe I will it just because you look so beautiful begging me)

After what it felt like eternities, Fermin finally pulled his sweatpants and boxers off. You were excited to say the Least. But you didn’t expect for him to pick you up and out you in your knees, mouth facing his erect cock inches from it. “Realmente no pensaste que te follaría así tan rápido sin que me la mamaran, ¿verdad?" He said in a low raspy voice. You shook your head at the question but you both knew you were lying as you really Expected him to fuck you right there and then. You didn't even noticed you zoned off until you felt him pushed his cock into your mouth, face fucking you. (You really didn't think I'd fuck you like that so fast without getting blown off, did you?)

"Dios mio..ugh tu boca es como una cueva para mi polla (omg your mouth is like a cave for my dick")

You look up to Fermin tears in your eyes. "Mi pobre bebe toda triste por que no te folle"? His words making you moan on his cock. Your eyes were teary, pussy aching and nipples hard. (My poor baby, all sad because I didn't fuck you?)

"Joder amor voy a correr.. ugh donde quieres que te lo choree eh? Tu boca o tu cara" He asked you, but being unable to answer him with his cock in your mouth. "Mierda no me importa lo hago en tu boca" At this point you weren't even sucking him him, he was just fucking his cock into your mouth. (Fuck love imma cum.. where do you want me to squirt it? Your mouth or face? Shit I dont care Im doing your mouth.)

Seconds later Fermins liquid was squirted into your mouth. "J-joderrrrr" He said dragging the "r". (fuck)

"ng..mhm" That's what's echoing in the walls of yours and Fermin's bedroom. Echos of your moans and whimpers, bed frame hitting the wall repeatedly loud enough for your neighbors to hear.

Fermin's cock pounding into you from the back filling you up just enough giving your ass some spanks from time to time. You guys have been going at it for hours. Practice ending 4 hours ago at 5 which makes it 9 now.

"vamos mi vida yo se que tienes otro dentro de ti vamos corazón" He whispered referring to you giving him another orgasm after giving him 4 already.(come on, my love, I know you have another inside of you, come on, sweetheart")

The wetness of you dripping pussy was heard. Your loud moans and screams. Fermins dirty talk bringing you close to your orgasm.

"Fermin e-estoy muy cerca p-por favor déjame correr please" You were able to sob out since your face was pushed into the mattress while you ass was up.(Fermin I'm very close please let me cum please")

"Aguantate nena" He whispered. (hold it baby)

"No p-puedo por favor Fermín dejame correr" you cried (I can't please Fermín let me cum)

"No, no vas a , uh, correr todavía" He whispered once again but you couldn't hold it any longer so you just let it all out with a loud moan. That made Fermin mad since he slapped our ass hard making you cry out in pain. (No, you're not gonna cum yet)

"Yo te dije que aguantaras no"? he asked and you nodded your head.(I told you to hold on, no)

"Entonces por que no entiendes"? (So why don't you understand)

"Lo siento, no pude contenerlo, lo intenté pero no pude" You said sobbing (I'm sorry I couldn't contain it, I tried but I couldn't)

"A mi no me importa, ponte en tu espalda que no a terminado contigo" (I don't care, get on your back, I'm not done with you)

You being the brat you are you disobeyed his request and he wasnt having any of it. So of course he got mad so he grabbed your waist and flipped you over and rammed his cock into you at full force.

"Todavía no sé cuántas veces tengo que hacer que te corras para que dejes de comportarte como una mocosa” You could feel the tip of cock hitting your cervix at full force bringing you closer to your orgasm. Dirty words were heard around the room, the cries and moans of you begging him go let you cum. (I still don't know how many times I have to make you cum before you stop acting like a brat)

Fermin cock wasn’t big big but it had girth, a girth that stretches your pussy good enough even though it can hurt it still gives you pleasure.

“Ugh e-estoy muy cerca p-por favor , Mhm-uhn” you whimper out as he slowed his movements down. The way his cock stretched you was making you see stars. Eyes rolling back when it hit that spot. (im so close please)

“No sé si debería dejar que te corras todavía” he whispered giving you hard but slow thrusts. (I don't know if I should let you cum yet")

"P-por favor papi por favor” you cried out while your left hand went down to rub your clit and your right to play with your nipple. (Please daddy, Please)

Fermin clearly didn’t like that since he slapped your hands away.

“No no no nena, es mi trabajo hacer eso, no tu, entiendes"? He grunted while his left hand rubs your clit fast. The pleasure of his cock repeatedly hitting your cervix and his fingers rubbing your clit was enough to bring you on edge. (No no no baby, it's my job to do that, not you, you understand)

"Dios dios amor por favor estoy muy cerca" You yelled out feeling your orgasm on the verge of cumming out. (My God, love please I'm very close)

"córrete para mí amor, sé que puedes venir bebé" He encourage you and with a loud moan your juice started squirting out. Fermin pulled out of you while your juices were wetting the sheets, he slapped your pussy a couple of times making more of your juices squirt out. The more Fermin slaps your pussy the more sensitive you become since hes repeatedly slapping your sensitive clit. (Cum for me my love, I know you can baby)

"Por favor, deja de golpear mi clítoris, soy muy sensible, por favor." You managed to squeal out with all the sensitivity on your pussy. Not even begging stopped him from giving your pussy more slaps. After like two minutes he finally stopped slapping it but you were sobbing now. (Please stop hitting my clit, I'm very sensitive please)

"shsh shsh mi vida lo se lose pero tu te merecias este castigo y tu sabes eso" He said while calming (trying to) you down. Since you were uncontrollably sobbing he decided to get you to sit on your butt (by the clean side of the ofc) and go inside the bathroom. (shsh shsh, my life I know but you deserved this punishment and you know that)

"Quédate por favor no te vallas" you once again sobbed out. Fermin's face dropped when he heard you say that and he honestly felt bad for the whole thing. (Stay. please don't leave)

"No corazon, no me voy a ir , solo voy a prepararte un baño ok mi vida"? He said calmly while kissing your head and heading to the bathroom.After Fermin was done with the bath he went back into the bedroom , picked you in and brought you the bath but before putting you in it he made sure to grab a cloth and clean your the inside of your folds. After that you both got into the bath cuddling a bit. (No sweetheart, I'm not going to leave, I'm just going to prepare a bath for you, ok my life)

"Lo siento por ser una mocosa hoy" You whispered feeling a bit sleepy making Fermin smile. (I'm sorry for being a brat today)

"Está bien amor, pero ya sabes para la próxima lo que pasará" He whispered back getting both of you out of the bath and into the bedroom. You both got changed into your pj's, changed the bed sheets and got into the bed. You guys cuddled and fell asleep but not before he whispered into your ear. (It's okay, love, but you know what will happen next time.)

"esta ha sido y será tu última vez siendo una mocosa" (this has been and will be your last time being a brat)

Safe to say this definitely wasn't the last time 😉.

#fermin lopez marin #fc barcelona #football #soccer #sports #for you #following #tags #football smut #fermin x reader #smut #for y'all #im cryin

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 2 months

Text

The Dangers of Hope Ch. 4

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: Nothing major. But - nudity! 😉

Word Count: 4,328

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: So, here I am with chapter 4. I hope you enjoy it! Thank you so much for all the very kind comments that this series has received so far. You're all fabulous.

Series Master List || Map of Camp || Tag Lists

The dividers below were created by @saradika

Y/N woke with a start. She was breathing fast, her heart pounding. The sense of fear and worry that had lived trapped inside her chest for months lifted quickly as she looked down to see Emma laying beside her on the narrow cot, having migrated there from her own bed sometime in the night.

Y/N resettled herself so she could pull her daughter’s warm little body closer to her, tucking the gray, wool blanket tighter around Emma’s shoulders to protect her from the cool September morning. She looked at Emma’s pale face, the bones a little too prominent, and was grateful once again to be where they were.

They’d been traveling around, nomadic and scrounging for whatever food they could find, for months. They’d spent a week in an abandoned church one time, a few days in an old hunting cabin. If they were lucky they sometimes found a camp of other survivors who would allow them to stay for a day or two. But the people would inevitably shuffle them along quickly, not willing to divvy up their resources amongst two more people.

When they’d found the Billings camp, she’d been so happy. They’d taken them in without much issue, but she’d soon discovered why. The camp had been made up of somewhat fanatical people, calling themselves Christians, who believed the apocalypse happened because people had turned away from the church. So while they did feel it was their duty to help Y/N and Emma, unfortunately they also felt it was their duty to bring them to the light. They’d spent most of the month they’d lived there praying and listening to the leaders call upon God to cast away the evil.

If the Croat attack hadn’t happened, Y/N knew she probably wouldn’t have stayed much longer anyway. She’d heard people talking about this camp, Camp Chitaqua, saying that it had a good leader, a man named Dean Winchester, and she’d wondered whether it could be the same man who’d saved her all those years ago.

She sighed deeply now, breathing in the fresh scent of the pine trees around them, giving thanks again that they’d made it here, and that, despite all odds, she was still alive. Even more miraculously, she was still herself. For a while, she’d been secretly worried that she’d only managed to stave off the virus in the same way that mothers could sometimes lift a car off of their child, by sheer power of will and desperation as mothers. But Emma had been here, and safe, for a week now, and she still felt exactly the same.

She couldn’t explain it, but she was trying not to question her good fortune. They were in a well-run camp, complete with guards, supplies, and a leader who, whatever he might claim, cared a lot about the welfare of the people in his care. She wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

After Emma woke up, Y/N cooked them their oatmeal ration for the morning, gave them both basin baths, and braided Emma’s hair. As she was tying the last ribbon, two small voices were calling for Emma from outside the tent. When they went to look, there were two little girls, Keisha and Julianne, looking for Emma to come out and play.

Their mom, Monique gave Y/N a warm smile as she shook her hand. If Y/N’s bloodshot eyes worried the woman at all, she didn’t show it.

“We’ve heard a lot about you from Emma.” Monique said as the girls ran about, giggling and chattering all at the same time. “She spent a lot of time with us over this last week. We’re so glad to see you’ve recovered.”

Y/N was eternally grateful that Monique didn’t ask questions for which she had no answers. They spoke for a few minutes about their children, and Y/N mentioned her intentions to start a school. Monique’s eyes lit up.

“It won’t be much,” Y/N warned, “but I thought the kids could use something.”

They talked for a little while longer and then Monique requested Emma’s presence for the morning. Keisha and Julianne were looking for their favorite playmate. Y/N sent Emma along with a tight hug and a tug on one of her braids.

There was a small part of her overextended protectiveness that worried any time Emma wasn’t right next to her. But she knew how important it was that her little one got the chance to play, so she kept her worries to herself and waved her off to have fun, with thanks to Monique for watching her.

She spent the next couple of hours wandering around the camp. She learned the layout of everything, where the medical tent was, where they went to get their food rations for the week. While she was there, she finally got to meet Theresa’s mother, Brandy. She was a big barrel of a woman with russet-colored skin, long dark hair pulled back into a tight bun, big strong hands, and kind brown eyes.

She explained how the ration system worked, and explained that she worked with “The Boss” and “The Angel” to make sure everyone got their fair share, and that absolutely no food was going to waste.

Y/N’s forehead crinkled at that. “Angel?”

Brandy nodded. “Castiel.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “He’s an angel?” She quietly berated herself for not figuring out that someone with a name like “Castiel” was an angel.

Brandy nodded again, and then spoke quietly. “But he doesn’t have any angel mojo. No wings or halo, or whatever.” She shrugged. “That’s what I heard anyway.”

Y/N chatted with Brandy a bit longer, offering up her idea for the school. The older woman was intrigued with the idea and gave some suggestions for where they could hold their classes. She scoffed at the idea of holding them outside.

“Gonna be winter soon and the wind can be really wicked around here. I’ll talk to The Boss about giving you one of those sheds at the Northeast edge of camp, behind the main cabin. They built them new there this summer for storage - for tools, and supplies like propane and such. But one shed will do for the winter, and they can build a second one for storage in the spring if they need it.” She said decisively.

“Well, please, don’t bug Dean too much about space.” Y/N cautioned. “He was reluctant enough to say yes to the school existing at all. I don’t want to make him doubt his decision.”

But Brandy just waved away the worry. “The Boss is hard, but he knows a good idea when he hears it.”

After a few more minutes of chatting Y/N gave Theresa a squeeze goodbye and headed back to her tent. She was excited to start putting some ideas together for lessons. She’d have to be a bit creative since there probably wasn’t a lot in the way of school supplies available. But she loved a challenge.

She was working at the little table in her tent when she heard a familiar throat clearing before Dean’s voice called out her name.

“Hi!” She called back. “Come in!”

Dean pushed through the tent flap, and walked in, a big green duffle bag in his hand. The height of the tent was just barely tall enough to accommodate him; it brushed against his spiky hair as he walked towards her, and Y/N had to smile.

Their tent home had seemed spacious when they’d arrived in it the other day. There was room enough for two narrow cots, a table and two chairs, a small wooden box for clothes and other supplies, and a little metal camping stove that was vented to the outside through a hole in the roof of the heavy canvas tent. She assumed that was for when it got really cold, and they couldn’t survive without some heat through the night.

It met all their needs and she’d been impressed by its size, having felt lucky enough to get the little two-person pup tent they’d had when they were at the Billings camp. But now, with Dean inside, the space felt much smaller. He seemed to take up most of the room in the tent, and he kept his neck bent forward slightly to avoid brushing against the top again.

“So, the river?” He asked, thumbing behind him.

Y/N nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, yes. That would be fabulous.” She grabbed her clean clothes and followed him out of the tent. She asked him to wait for a moment and dashed over to Monique’s to get Emma. But the three little girls didn’t want to stop playing, so Monique offered to take Emma with them in a couple of days when she took the girls down to the river.

“Okay.” Y/N gave in to her daughter’s pleading eyes and the three little girls squealed and jumped around.

Y/N was thrilled to see Emma having so much fun, and she couldn’t justify derailing that fun just for a bath. But she made Monique promise to let her watch the girls for an afternoon very soon as payback, and she hurried back to where Dean waited, somewhat impatiently, by her tent.

His face held a deep scowl. “Are we good?” He asked.

Y/N nodded and he turned away, obviously expecting Y/N would follow. Once again she found herself walking quickly to try and keep up with his long-limbed, brisk pace. They went east towards the medical tent. But before they got to the tent, they reached a wide, open area where five vehicles were parked. Four of the vehicles, two trucks, a Jeep and a van, sat in a three sided aluminum building. Inside the building two men and a woman were working on one of the trucks, a black Ford F-150.

Dean nodded in their direction as he entered, and they lifted their hands in a salute before returning to their work. He walked towards the Jeep, but Y/N had her attention snagged by the car that sat outside the shed, towards the back, almost behind the building. The tires were flat and vegetation grew all around it. The front windshield had a big crack in it, and both bumpers were missing. Rust covered the tire rims and the bottom of the passenger side door.

But she still recognized it. She still remembered the way the sleek, black beauty had shined as it pulled into their driveway so long ago. She remembered the way her dad had whistled when he saw it and the way both Dean and John had beamed with pride when he told them, “That is an American classic right there!”

She walked towards it, and her heart was sad to see it so beaten up and neglected. Dean followed her around the side of the building. “What are you doing?” He asked angrily.

She looked back at him. “I remember her. What a shame.”

Dean’s jaw ticked and he grabbed her wrist to yank her back into the building. “Just a car, it wasn’t practical. Now, come on, you wanna a bath, or what? I don’t have all damn day here.”

Y/N kept her mouth shut as she climbed into the Jeep, flinching slightly when Dean slammed his door; she’d obviously hit a nerve. In deference to that fact she stayed quiet for a little while. But eventually, she risked starting a conversation.

“How far is it to walk out to the river?” She asked.

He shrugged. “‘Bout an hour or so.”

“How long will it take us?”

“Five or six minutes.”

She smiled. “Well, then I really appreciate the ride.”

He shrugged again. “Sooner we're there, the sooner we’re done.”

“I also appreciate you taking the time out of your day.”

He just grunted in response and she wasn’t sure exactly how to interpret the sound. Whether it meant, It’s fine, or I’m regretting the offer, she wasn’t sure, but she plowed on anyway.

“I can only imagine how busy you must be, running a camp this size. How many people live here?”

“Don’t know exactly.” He answered and she thought that might be the only answer he was going to give, but then he continued. “Somewhere between a hundred and a hundred and fifty, I’d guess.”

“Wow!” Y/N said, truly impressed. “Billings only had about 60, and they were the biggest group I’d ever seen.”

Dean didn’t respond as the Jeep jolted over a big rut in the uneven path they were driving down. Trees scraped against the sides of the Jeep as they passed, and Y/N almost bounced out of her seat as they hit another deep rut.

“Put your fucking seatbelt on.” He barked at her. “You tryna fly through the windshield?”

Y/N grabbed the strap and clicked it in place. Then she frowned at him. “You’re not wearing your seatbelt.”

“Do as I say, not as I do.” He warned her.

She snorted. “That’s crap advice.” He scowled at her but said nothing more.

They were silent until they emerged from the trees onto a wide river bank and Y/N could see a sparkling river laid out in front of them. She gasped.

“It’s beautiful.”

Dean threw the Jeep into park and turned off the engine. “It’s advantageous.” He admitted as he climbed out, pulling his duffel bag out with him.

Y/N jumped down and walked quickly towards the river, already itching to feel the water wash away the layer of grime she could feel sitting on her skin. When they reached the side of the river, they stood for a minute. Y/N looked over at Dean, waiting for some privacy before she took off her clothes and jumped into the river.

Instead he nodded towards it, and warned her. “Don’t go too far east. The current here is slower, but it picks up around the bend up there, and it can be hard to stand.”

He dropped the bag on the ground, reaching in and grabbing a bar of soap and tossing it to her. It wasn’t new, but it smelled fresh and zesty, so she didn’t care that it had been used previously.

She stood still, holding the soap, making no move to get into the water. Dean looked at her, annoyed again. “Are you going in or not?”

She knew she was blushing and she felt ridiculous for it. But she waved towards him. “Could you turn around or something?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “No, actually, I can’t. There’s a reason no one ever comes to the river alone. We’re almost five miles from camp, there could be wild animals, rogue Croats, or desperate men around.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Someone needs to stand watch.”

Y/N nodded, accepting that logic. But she still didn’t want to get naked with him watching. When she continued to hesitate, Dean gave a huge huff and shook his head.

“Oh for fuck’s sake. Even though you definitely don’t have anything I haven’t seen before, if it will make you hurry up and get in the fucking water, I’ll turn my head while you strip down. Just tell me when you’re covered up in the water, so I can go back to making sure nothing tries to eat you.”

With that, he turned his head away from her and sighed again, before holding up his finger. “And be careful - the deeper the water, the faster the current.”

She shucked her old grubby clothes quickly, practically moaning about how good it was going to feel to be clean and then actually step into clean clothes. She ran into the river, squeaking slightly as the cold water hit her skin.

“Whoo! It’s freezing!” She said with a slightly manic giggle. But she kept walking until the water covered her breasts. “Okay.” She called out over the rushing of the river. It was a little hard to keep her balance as she began washing, but she managed.

She tried to ignore Dean standing barely twenty feet away as she washed her body quickly and then dipped her head back in the water, lathering up her hands to scrub through her hair and across her scalp. As she rinsed her hair out she couldn’t take the silence anymore and started talking as a distraction, like she usually did.

“So you guys keep chickens? I’m assuming that’s where the eggs come from?”

Dean nodded. “And one young cow. We found her in the spring. Her mother was nowhere to be seen. So we brought her back to camp. The kids in the camp take it in turns to spend the day gathering grass for her to eat. They pull up buckets of it every day to fill her trough. In return she gives us fertilizer for the crops, and if we can somehow find her a bull next spring she’ll give us milk and more cows too.”

Y/N smiled as she finished her bath, and then ran her hands down her leg to rinse away the last of the soap. “How is it you can manage -”

Y/N stopped talking to let out a scream as her fingers brushed against something slimy on her leg. And then screamed even louder when it brushed over a second one. Before she could let out a third scream, Dean was in the water, having shed everything but his jeans and white t-shirt on the way.

“What’s wrong!” He was yelling as he barreled towards her.

“Something.” She pointed at her leg. “Something’s biting me. Something slimy.”

Dean looked relieved and then annoyed. “For pete’s sake, it’s probably just leeches.”

Y/N stared at him like he was completely insane. “Just. leeches?” She shrieked. “Get them off.”

Dean grabbed her hand and started to pull her out of the water. But she wrapped her other arm over her breasts and dug her heels into the rocky bed of the river. “No, I can’t leave the water. I’m naked.”

Dean spun around to face her. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He dropped her hand and threw up his arms. “You wanna stay in the water with the leeches?”

“Can’t you just pull them off while we’re in the water?”

“No.” Dean said shortly. “I can’t. I have to pry them off gently, meaning I have to be able to see them properly. You may also have leeches other places than just your leg. I need to check you.”

Y/N’s face turned blazing hot, but she decided she was more horrified by the slimy things sucking her blood than by Dean getting up close and personal. So she followed him out of the water to stand on the sandy bank. He walked back to his duffel bag and grabbed a knife. She covered herself with her arms and hands the best she could.

Dean came close and got down on his haunches to work at unsticking the leeches from her thigh. His fingers were warm on her chilled skin, and she knew it wasn’t only the cold breeze that was giving her goosebumps. She peered down at him, admiring the way his long lashes swept downwards as he focused on his task. His white t-shirt was wet and clung to him, outlining the muscles in his back that shifted slightly as he worked.

Thoroughly distracted she didn’t notice the leeches pop off until Dean tossed them back into the river. “K, I’m gonna check for other ones.”

Y/N’s whole body flushed as Dean walked around behind her, scanning all of her looking for more of the parasites. He came around to her right side where her arm was folded over her chest.

“Lift your arm.” He ordered. “They like the soft skin under here.”

With a sigh, Y/N shifted her other arm over her breasts, while crossing her legs to make up for the hand that was no longer covering her below. Then she lifted her right arm and Dean clicked his tongue.

“Yeah, there’s one more here.”

He brought his knife up again, and Y/N tried not to think about the way she could feel Dean’s breath move across the tops of her breast as he pried off the disgusting creature. When it popped off, Dean threw it back into the river and let his other hand trail down to her waist, leaving a fiery trail in his wake.

He moved to the other side and checked too but thankfully there were no more on that side.

Dean waved towards the parts of her that she had covered up. “Do you want to check the rest, just in case?”

He turned his head without being asked and Y/N was grateful as she searched her skin.

“There’s nothing.” She said with relief.

Dean nodded. “Good. Hang on.”

He walked over to his duffel bag and pulled out a towel, also grabbing her clothes that sat beside his bag. He tossed them all to her and then turned away so she could dry herself off and get dressed. She dried quickly, but as she started to pull on her jeans, Dean pulled his wet t-shirt over his head, and pushed off his jeans, treating her to the truly disarming sight of his beautiful bare torso and round, plump ass. His back was bronzed and tan while the fleshy skin of his backside was milky white.

He must have worked outside without a shirt on a lot this summer.

That image left her brain spiraling, and while she was melting into a puddle, Dean pulled a pair of jeans out of his duffle bag and put them on, before slipping his long, muscular arms through the sleeves of his flannel shirt.

He stood quietly for a moment after he was dressed before he called to her without turning around. “Are you dressed?”

Shaking her head like a wet dog, Y/N answered quickly. “Not yet, just give me a minute.”

“Already had a minute.” Dean mumbled.

Y/N hopped into the jeans; they were a size smaller than she normally wore, so they fit a bit snug. She put on the bra that was also a bit too small in the cups, but she wasn’t about to complain about the free, clean clothes, so she just tugged on the t-shirt.

She could practically feel Dean’s impatience as he stood there with his hands on his hips. “I’m finished.” She told him and he finally spun around to face her, his expression annoyed as usual.

He started to say something, but when he caught sight of her, the words seemed to die on his lips. He scanned her from head to toe and Y/N felt her cheeks flame. It was silent between them, but something crackled in the air, hot and vibrant.

Dean took a step closer, and her eyes wandered over his flannel shirt and the way the open sides framed his tanned, broad chest and flat abdomen. She looked at his belly button and the light trail of hair that disappeared into his jeans and she had the sudden urge to lick him, dip her tongue into his belly button, and then…

“Clothes good?” Dean asked, his voice soft and deep.

It took Y/N a solid ten to twenty seconds to figure out what he was talking about. Finally she nodded. “Oh yeah,” she ran a hand over her skin tight jeans, “they’re great.”

“Good.” Dean cleared his throat and nodded his head sideways towards the Jeep. “We should get back.”

The ride back to camp was tense as suddenly Y/N was aware of every move Dean made. She watched his hands on the big Jeep steering wheel and became immediately distracted by them. They moved smoothly, but she remembered the calluses she could feel when he grabbed her wrist, and it made her want to feel them again, feel them in more sensitive places.

The five minute ride felt twice as long on the way back.

When they reached the garage, Y/N practically leapt from the Jeep before it had even stopped fully.

“Well, thanks.” She said in a high pitched, squeaky voice.

Dean followed her silently out of the Jeep and out of the building. When she started back across the camp to her tent though, he called her back.

“Y/N!” She turned around but kept some distance between them. She was honestly afraid of what her addled mind might try if she got too close to him.

Unfortunately, Dean didn’t seem to be suffering from the same problem because he walked right up to her, leaving barely a foot between them.

“Just keep an eye on the bites. Leech bites aren’t usually dangerous, but the itch can be a real pain in the ass. If they get bad, you can go to the medical tent.” She followed his finger as he pointed at the big white tent to her right. “They'll probably have something for you.”

She turned back to face him and her breath caught in her throat. He was so close, and he smelled so good, like gunpowder, fire and something a bit warmer, softer, that she couldn’t place. She stared up into his intense green eyes and her stomach started doing somersaults.

His gaze fell to her lips and for one insane moment, Y/N thought he was going to lean forward and kiss her. But he took a step back, nodded and then turned on his heel and walked away. Y/N stood staring after him for a lot longer than she had any reason to, holding her breath the whole time.

As he disappeared into the main cabin, she exhaled slowly, finally able to admit to herself that she was incredibly disappointed by the kiss that didn’t happen.

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#dean winchester #endverse!dean #endverse!dean x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fan fic #endverse #endverse!dean series

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notiddygxthgf · 6 months

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★ pairings: suguru geto x satoru gojo, satosugu

★ synopsis: Suguru Geto struggles with letting people in after leaving a three-year-long abusive relationship. Enter Satoru Gojo, the boy who doesn't seem to take no for an answer.

★ c.w.: slow burn, mutual pining, explicit sexual content, dub con elements, implied/referenced rape/non-con, mahito is a real abusive asshole, past relationship(s), past abuse, recovery, hurt, comfort, vent fic, based on my shitty ex, my therapist told me it'd be a good idea idk, im a good writer I swear, brought to u by the bch who wrote best friend's brother!choso, sexual tension, new love, fluff, angst, smutt, graphic, psychological trauma, theres a happy ending in here I swear, angst with a happy ending, psychological trauma, PTSD, idiots in love, sexy smut I swear.

★ a/n: NGL I kinda hate how this turned out. but! it had to be done! I had to get it out of the way. the way I think this is gonna work is past flashbacks first, present time next. it's gonna prob alternative between the two for a while. comment your thoughts! let me hear u! feel free to slander mahito... he plays the shitty ex.

★ w.c.; 3.4k

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐔 𝐍 𝐅 𝐎 𝐑 𝐓 𝐔 𝐍 𝐀 𝐓 𝐄 𝐀 𝐈 𝐋 𝐌 𝐄 𝐍 𝐓

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

PROLOGUE

2019. MONTH UNKNOWN.

I WAS ONLY 12 YEARS OLD the first time I tried to kill myself. In retrospect, I can’t possibly imagine what could have been so important to little me that he firmly believed he would rather die than live without it. I wish I could say that I had a difficult life. That simply was not the case. I grew up with two loving parents and a kind brother, in a small town where every friend I’d ever had was within a mile of me at any given point in time. We weren’t rich, but we most certainly weren’t poor. I had everything a child could ask for and so much more.

Again, I wish that I could say I had a difficult life, but that simply was not the case.

It’s just that I’ve had these… thoughts for as long as I can remember. An unfortunate ailment, if you will. No matter what I did, there always seemed to be something missing. Something I felt I would spend my whole life searching for – or at least trying to supplement.

At 12 years old, I planned my first attempt.

It didn’t work.

So, now, faced with the unbearable burden of deciding what I was going to do for the rest of my life, I chose to pursue a childhood dream of mine. I wanted to go to school to become a doctor. I didn’t know what kind, per se, but I knew that I wanted to heal.

Maybe I thought, I don’t know… that if I healed enough people, I may have been rid of the ailment – healed, myself.

So I left my small town, enrolling in an academy 30 minutes away from the house. I got into their Healthcare program. Again, what more could a kid want?

Yet the void inside of me only grew larger, more ravenous. I lost touch with all of my small town friends – one by one. I had no one.

But I was pursuing my passion, right? Why wasn’t it enough?

It was in that godforsaken academy that I met him.

“Pick a card,” he asked me. His grey eyes were so sharp, even then. “Any card.”

I glanced down at the fanned-out deck in his pale hand, eyes crawling over the many different suits and shapes before eventually settling on an ace. I pulled the card out.

Ace of spades. I tried to memorize it. I also, coincidentally, tried my best to ignore the incessant thrum of my racing heartbeat against my veins, my arteries, my chest. He was sitting so close to me.

It was just the two of us in the hallway. Just me and him and the infinite space between us, the small gap between my right shoulder and his left.

I handed it back to him. “What are you doing?” I asked.

He slipped the card back into the deck without looking. He shuffled it once, twice, three times. Made a bridge with his hands and let the cards fall back into place. I watched with a remarkable sense of interest.

“Is this your card?” He tucked a stray blue hair behind his ear, producing a card.

I furrowed my brows, about to say something, when I noticed something off about the card. It was different. Where there once was a large blue spade, there now was a small, torn piece of lined paper taped to the surface. The gray lettering on the handwritten note read,

WILL U GO OUT W/ ME?

My eyes went as wide as saucers. My mouth lolled open, lips shaped around his cursed name, “Mahito, I…”

I thought of my parents. I thought of my religious father. What would he say? What would he say if he found out his 14-year-old son was a homosexual?

I thought of my parents, and I bit my lip, “I don’t know if I can… I don’t know. What if my dad finds out?”

Mahito tucked the deck of cards neatly into the pocket of his black cargo pants. His hoodie was rolled up to his elbows, revealing intricate stick-and-poke linework over his forearms. He shrugged, humming, “Who says he has to?”

The tardy bell rang. We were late for first period.

My mouth opened by itself again. At fourteen, I wasn’t so sure I was ready to lie to my father about something so serious. Not yet.

Seemingly sensing my hesitance, Mahito laid a hand on my stiff shoulder. “Hey,” he muttered softly. “Think about it. Give me your answer after school, yeah? We’ll meet here at 3:30.”

And then he slipped away with a quiet, ‘See ya’.

Without confirmation.

In his absence, I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat.

2019 February.

Mahito ran away from home two weeks into our relationship. Ran away without so much as a notice or a warning. Ran away and left me there to assume the worst. He didn’t live in the best area. Perhaps he was staying with a friend? If not, was he dead in a ditch somewhere?

There was no way to tell.

He could have at least told me, I had thought. Then again, would I have tried to stop him? Undoubtedly.

They issued a missing persons alert the day after he didn’t show up. I remember seeing the poster all over my social media, all over the streetlights and posts.

It didn’t seem real. Even as I held the missing poster in my trembling hand, I remember feeling numb. I remember feeling as if this were all some sort of cruel prank, that he would be back just in time for our after-school walk with a smile on his face.

But there he was, smiling up at me from the page in my hand.

MISSING PERSON: MAHITO

Height: 5’8

Weight: 150

Eye color: gray

Hair color: blue

Remarkable features: tattoos on arms

Last seen: February 14th.

I crumpled the piece of paper up, tossing it across my messy bedroom with a sigh. I hadn’t slept last night, and I wouldn’t have slept tonight either.

I sunk into myself, curled into a ball on my twin-sized mattress – the same one I’d had for as long as I could remember – and cried. I was utterly inconsolable. I cried until my voice was hoarse, until there were no more tears left to cry.

Until my phone buzzed.

I assumed it was another homework notification. I didn’t check. What did it matter? In my eyes, my world had stopped spinning. It had stopped the moment he ran away.

But it buzzed again, and again.

It was then that I realized I was getting a call. Begrudgingly, I picked my phone up off of the bed. I turned it over. The screen was lit up with the words ‘NO CALLER ID’.

I wanted to hang up. Desperately. Wanted to save myself a shred of peace and dignity and move on with my night – in hindsight, I probably should have just hung up when I had the chance. But, no, I felt something in my gut call out to me.

Against my better judgment, I answered, “Hello?”

The line crackled. “Suguru?”

Suguru.

My heart leapt up into my throat. With wide eyes, I answered again, “Who’s this?”

“Suguru, it’s me, Mahito,” He sighed with relief, like he hadn’t expected me to pick up. Truth be told, I hadn’t expected it either. “I’m sorry I couldn’t call you sooner, my love. I’m calling you from a phone booth right now.”

My love. The nickname sounded like honey coming from his lips, but I knew it was laced with venom. Still, as would seem to be the trend, I was weak for it.

My eyes began to water again, somehow. “Where are you?”

I knew better than to call him ‘baby’. Not when my father was sleeping in the room next to mine.

“I can’t tell you that right now,” He answered. Of course, he couldn’t. There always seemed to be something he was hiding from me. I didn’t see it that way back then. “Look, I don’t have much time to talk, I–”

“I’ve been worried sick about you, Mahi,” I spoke again. I felt numb. So numb. “Please, just–”

“I stole ten grand from my mom,” He cut me off. “I’m running away from home. The abuse, it’s just– I can’t. I can’t, anymore.”

His mother was a real piece of shit. I knew that. She never wanted Mahito, not as a single mother. So she tried multiple times to be rid of him – beating him senseless with hangers and wires and even going so far as to attempt to poison him on his birthday.

Still, ten grand was a lot of money.

Stolen.

“I’m on the run from the cops, I– I think they’re trying to find me,” He panted into the microphone. “You can’t tell anyone, okay? You gotta lie for me.”

I felt sick. Sick to my fucking stomach.

“I’m sorry, I…” I trailed off, holding back vomit. “Hold on.”

I ran to the bathroom and promptly emptied the contents of my stomach into the sink. I had just eaten mac and cheese an hour or so ago, and the vomit was tinted yellow. I could still see a few noodles here and there, only partially digested.

It made me want to hurl again.

“You okay?” he asked me.

“Am I– No, I’m not fucking okay, Mahito! First, you run away without–” I had to swallow bile a second time. I felt it burn as it slid back down my throat. “You could have fucking warned me , or something, and now you’re calling me at eleven at night to tell me you’re fleeing the fucking cops?”

He paused. “I know,” he said. “I know, I’m sorry. You know I love you.”

And immediately, like some sort of magic trick, I felt my exterior soften. I didn’t even care that we were only a few weeks into our relationship. He was my first. It was like he knew the effect he had on me.

“Suguru,” he said again. “I love you.”

His words were like honey. I took a spoonful.

“I love you, too,” I sighed into the receiver.

“You’ll keep quiet about this for me, right?”

I was weak for him, as always.

“Okay,” I said.

I found myself sitting at my desk in the middle of the day, struggling to concentrate on the lesson. The classmates at my table – more like a group of desks placed together – were talking about the missing boy.

My missing boy.

They were talking to me, actually, but I had long since tuned them out. It was all a blur for me – a blur of faces and voices and words I didn’t want to hear.

“He’s a freak,” The boy across from me, Choso Kamo, remarked. “If I were you, I’d break things off before it’s too late.”

Choso’s critical words sent a sharp pang right through my rotten heart.

“Exactly,” My friend, Shoko, chimed in. She was a pretty thing, about a few inches shorter than me with brown hair up to her chin. She always looked so tired . I wonder if she recognized that I felt the same. “He’s got some serious issues. Guys like that rarely make for healthy relationships.”

Choso leaned in, leaned over the desk to offer more of his thoughts, “You can’t just ignore the fact that more people are catchin’ on, either. What if your dad finds out? You know he thinks that… kind of stuff is wrong.”

Choso was Shoko’s friend. He wasn’t homophobic. A little misguided, but he had the spirit. Hell if he weren’t a raging heterosexual, I might have even gone for him instead. He had that look I liked – sleepy, downturned, dark eyes framed by messy bangs. He never wore colors. He was content to make a statement in black. Black eyeliner, black shirt, black doc martens, black hair done up into two messy pigtails.

It was his signature look.

Our classmates didn’t take too kindly to ‘emos’ like him, though. He was an outcast. Hell, we all were. That’s why we sat together, after all.

The harsh opinions of my classmates threatened to erode my self assurance. I knew people were talking – people always talked. I knew the hushed whispers of my name as I walked past people and cliques in the mornings on my way to class weren’t a hallucination.

I knew I had to stand by my boyfriend. I knew I had to stand by Mahito, but the weight of their disapproval put a strain on my shoulders. Does anyone want to hear that their friends don’t approve of their partner?

Admittedly, he wasn’t a very good partner. He had demonstrated that much in the first few weeks of our relationship. I knew he wasn’t good for me, but, fuck, I wanted to try. I wanted to make things work so badly that I ached for it. Everyone else knew he wasn’t good for me, too.

But, fuck, was I naive to wish I could prove them all wrong?

In my eyes, he was only misunderstood. The ghosting, the red flags, the alarming behavior… I could see past it all because I loved him. My first love. No one understood him the way I did. How could I blame them for their concerns?

It didn’t matter how many voices I had in my ear telling me it was wrong. Soon, he would come home to me, and I would feel his skin against my cheek as I hugged him hello. That’s all that mattered.

How could that be wrong?

“It’s not wrong. How could it be?” I kept my gaze trained on my desk. My vision was blurry, unfocused. My mind felt numb and detached. I muttered. “I love him. He loves me, too. He told me he did.”

He did.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Choso and Shoko exchange a dubious look.

They didn’t understand him the way I did.

“He told me he loved me,” I repeated the words like a mantra, like a reminder to myself that I was fighting for something.

That as long as I was loved by him, I would be okay.

He called again that night. Earlier, this time, at nine o’clock.

I was in the shower at that time, curled up on the floor, sobbing into my arms. The water streamed past my shoulders, my arms, my nose. I glanced over at the screen through blurry eyes.

NO CALLER ID.

I closed my eyes. I took a deep breath.

Then, I let the call ring.

Current Day.

[12:13 PM]

[Automated]: you have 3 new messages. Play back?

[USER] Selected:

[NO] ...

... [View Inbox]

...

[ Last 6 Years ].

[REPLAY>>] Message from 'Blocked Number'.

Transcription:

" Suguru, this is me, Mahito. I don’t know if you can hear me or not– I don’t know if anyone can hear you or not, so please use headphones, or something, I don’t know. I just wanted to call and make sure you’re okay. I’m gonna try and call you later. Right now you seem to not be answering your phone for some reason. Doesn’t matter, though. I’m not in a really good place, right now, I’m… surrounded by a lot of people. So, um.. I just wanted to say that I love you, and I’ll call you a little bit later, okay? Bye– kisses…….”

[End of Transcription]

[Automated]: Would you like to play the next message?

[ Yes. ]

“ Suguru, is this– this is me, Mahito. Um.. I just wanted to say that I’m okay. Nothing has happened to me yet. I’m perfectly safe. I’m in a laundromat somewhere. And, uh, I said I love you… I don’t know why you’re not answering my calls… You know that I always try to text you whenever I can– and try to… call you, but… I don’t know, maybe you’re too depressed, or some shit. Maybe you’re mad at me. I understand. I– what I did was wrong, I… What I did was idiotic, and what I did was stupid, and shitty… And I understand if you’re mad at me and you don’t wanna answer my calls. So, yeah, I gues… I’ll try to call you again tomorrow.

If you’re hearing this voicemail, but you probably won’t, um… I just want you to know that I love you. And I’m trying to do my best just… to see you again. You like pizza, don’t you? How about we do a pizza date sometime, yeah? Somewhere around next week, maybe. Huh? How about that? Sounds cool, right? Yeah, yeah it does. Um, anyway, I… gotta… I gotta go. I have to… do some things. Uh… uh… at least I love you.

And, I– I might not have brought much with me, but I have the little stuffie that you gave me. It’s in my book bag. Not gonna take it out because people are gonna know what my things look like. I’m always gonna keep these memories close to my heart. I don’t care what anybody says. Even if I go to prison, I’m taking this shit with me. Alright? Um, I guess that’s it. And… last thing? I love you.

Please, answer me. If you’re calling, that means you actually care, but if you don’t, then… it’s fine. Don’t recall this number. I’m not gonna respond. This is just some random guy’s phone. Okay? Um… I love you, and please stay safe. Please don’t worry, I’m still alive. I miss you. Okay, bye, I love you.”

[End of Voicemails Received on February 18th, 2019].

[Automated]: Would you like to replay the messages?

[ No. ]

[ Delete ] > [ All messages from {Blocked Number}]

[Automated]: Are you sure?

[Yes]

[Automated]: Deleting all messages from {Blocked Number}.

THE WIND BLEW IN HEAVY from below, sending a plethora of leaves flying out in all directions. As I knelt down to test the current with my fingers, my boots sank deeper into the muddy riverside.

I sat on the bench in front of the riverbed. Wiping my fingers dry on the fabric of my denim jeans, I took a moment to take in my surroundings. The park was mostly empty, save for a few teenagers

The water always looked pretty this time of year. For a few moments, you stood there drinking in the sight of it.

In the present, I sat alone in front of the serene lake, surrounded by the picturesque beauty of nature. Lush green trees lined the shore, their leaves rustling in the gentle breeze. The scent of damp earth and the distant call of birds created a peaceful atmosphere, contrasting with the turmoil in my mind.

I watched as groups of carefree teenagers ran around, their laughter and joy a stark contrast to the heavy weight I carried in my heart. A deep sigh escaped my lips as I averted my gaze towards the shimmering water.

I wished for the water to possess the power to cleanse me, to wash away the burdens that weighed on my soul.

The sound of the water rushing past was almost deafening, drowning out the laughter of the teenagers. It consumed my thoughts, leaving me with an overwhelming feeling of dread and isolation. I yearned for the water to offer solace, as if it held the key to absolution and a fresh start, but it remained an unsettling reminder of my own inner turmoil.

I had a vision every time I came here for some peace of mind. It was the same vision every single time. It plagued me every time I found myself in front of the water. It was an image of me, standing at the water's edge, and then, with a deep sense of despair, throwing myself into it, sinking into the abyss and drowning.

As I sat there, the scenery around me seemed to blur, and the vision of my drowning self played on a loop in my mind, a relentless nightmare that I couldn't escape. The lake, which should have been a source of tranquility, had become a symbol of my pain and a relentless reminder of my inner struggles.

It seemed to call to me. I could almost hear the wind carry my name.

Suguru.

The water always looked pretty this time of year. I sat there watching it for a moment too long, wondering what it would feel like to be enveloped by the cold current, to feel it wash me away.

And, again, the sound of the current grew louder. Deafening. Consuming me.

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