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wandasfifthwife · 2 months

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(2) the curse of living in a small town | I got a bad idea series

—> masterlist

southern!wandanat x fem!city-girl reader

tw: allusions to sex (didn’t happen, r just misunderstands), discussion of w&n undressing r while she was drunk bc r threw up on them, slight angst, two separate minor injuries (r), blood mention, mentions to past drunkenness (r), incorrect scared horse description?

a/n: in true me fashion this is published without being proofread. so excuse my choppy ass writing lmao

The sheets wrapped around you were too warm, and it often pulled you back to sleep. Any time you begin to stir, all you had to do was twist your body and you were falling asleep again. The sun was high in the sky by the time you actually opened your eyes.

The curtains were closed, but the air conditioning would push the corners so they’d flip up and let the light in. It didn’t take long to recognize that the room you were in was not a room you recognized.

You froze, dread piling within you as you took in each individual difference between the room you were in versus the one back at your grandparents. The coats hung behind the door, pictures laid on the vanity in front of you, a hand-made blanket thrown across the edge of the bed frame. Not to mention the smell—though pleasant—it was unrecognizable.

It took looking down at your current sleep wear to make you freak out. It wasn’t yours.

Everything on top and underneath wasn’t yours. Your heart rate seems faster than normal when you crack the door open. It’s quiet, and a sign for you to run out the door.

Your feet are bare, so the sound of the bottom of your foot sticking when it picks off the floor is embarrassingly loud. You’ve almost reached the first floor, feet about to meet the halfway mark on the stairs when you hear a voice beside you.

No rational thought came to mind as you rush down the stairs. Your left foot slips and you miscalculate the distance between the last step and the bench sitting across from you. It collided into the bench’s leg with a solid thud.

The wind gets knocked out of you, forcing you to hunch over and wait for the sting to leave. You don’t want to see who’s greeted you, ignoring it even as you miserably make it to the front door.

Across from you in the middle of their yard is Natasha. Though with how fuzzy last night was, she’s become a stranger to you. You turn to the left and book it towards the one thing you recognize at the moment, your grandparents home. You hear her call out to you, but you don’t waste any time running through the warm grass. All emotions related to embarrassment, regret, and shame fill you and force your adrenaline to kick it into overdrive.

Your grandma’s having a field day, laughing as she sees you through the kitchen window. She calls her husband over, the sight of you in almost nothing cracking him up hit he attempts to save your dignity.

He opens the door for you, not saying anything because he knew you’d rush past him and shut yourself in a room. Which is exactly what you did.

“That’s pretty early for a night owl like her,” your grandma laughs, looking to your grandpa. He has a sympathetic look on his face, still looking off where you ran up the stairs.

“I feel bad, honey.“

“It’s not that I don’t feel bad, I just think she’s a grown adult. She choose to get drunk, I’m sure she’s just embarrassed to find out she drunkenly cried over someone congratulating her for graduating college.”

That’s not the reason why you felt embarrassed. You had zero chance of knowing what happened last night until you talked to one of them. Confrontation wasn’t your strength, avoidance was. That’s why you’re caught up in this mess with your boss at work, you can’t tell him to give you a raise because you’re afraid of getting fired.

That’s how you feel now. You’re afraid of asking what happened last night because you’re scared of the possible situation. There’s no obvious physical signs of anything happening other than your clothes being changed. That being said, you still left your clothes over there. At this point, they can keep them.

The picture frames that covered the walls were photos from their marriage. Them smiling, a few of them kissing. It was beautiful and you were terrified you were to ruin it, what they have, after last night. Your home was even quieter than theirs, that was until your mother had begun to bang against your door.

“Get dressed, you’re coming with me into town.”

You realize then that all of your sudden movement from earlier catches up to you. Your mother realizes it too and thankfully allows you to sleep in more. After a few home remedies you’re feeling better, but not fully healed. When she finds you in bed at 3PM, she’s hurrying into your bedroom and pushing you to get out

“Tomorrow?”

“No,” she pulls the sheets off the bed, “fall for stupid tricks get stupid consequences, come on.“

You shy away from the laughs coming from your brother and grandparents when you make it downstairs. There was a small tray in the kitchen with a varying fruits. A small sticky note beside it with a personalized message towards you, telling you to take whatever’s left.

“Want to visit the diner in town? I’d like to visit my friend for a minute, you can get lunch?”

Your mom navigates the plans, pushing beside you. You make a small plate and grab more meds from the pharmacy tray in the furthest cabinet to the left.

“I don’t care, mom.”

She grabs the keys off a small hook and wonders off outside. Her actions telling you get yourself in the car within the next few minutes. You bother finds himself stumbling into the kitchen, “to set the record straight, I won.”

“Fuck off,” you mumble, grabbing your phone and tumbling out the door. Your mom pulled the car out front with the window’s down.

“Buckle your seatbelt.”

“We’re going down St Peters?”

“You’re still sobering. I’m scared you’ll pull the door open and fly out.”

“Mom,” you point towards where the city is, “the streets are 25, it’s slow. Just go.”

She still replayed her comeback to you, going on about how over drinking is terrible for you. Meanwhile her yapping was making everything hurt worse. You rest your head against the window as best as you can, trying to be mindful of the constant bumps due to the rock road.

“—you had cried like a baby.”

“I did what?”

“Cried last night.”

You groan, “I can’t believe I did that.”

“You did a lot of things,” she says eventually once you’ve gotten onto the road. Her sentence doesn’t help the downfall of emotions you’ve been experiencing since this morning.

“Have anybody in your sights lately?”

“Nope, still single.”

She prods further, asking, “are you going to get married? I don’t care how or when, just sometime before I die so I can have grandchildren.”

“I understand. You’ll be the first to know if I find someone.”

She turns down the street, onto where the most amount of buildings lie unless you want to drive for hours. It’s a thirty minute drive, decent enough to get what you’re needing. Food, supplies, send mail, or to set up market. There was a spot in front of the town’s diner, the one your mom chose and the one right by where a certain someone’s car was parked as well.

You climb out of the car, unsuspecting and following your mom into the diner. She pulls away from you almost immediately to talk to her friend who’s sat at a booth towards the back. You thought to introduce yourself, include yourself in the conversation between an old acquaintance. The both just behind her was where Natasha was, your eyes finding hers. You grew defensive, turning on your heel to sit at the bar instead.

The lady behind the counter takes your brisk order. The look on her face is also wondering why you’re this bothered by her presence. If it were a one night stand, it’s fine, they happen. Usually they don’t and with one running out into the field barefoot though.

She hands you the tea you ordered. You’re sure your expression is still tense judging by the fact her eyes never leave you until she’s rounded the corner. Whether she’s concerned, or noisy, it doesn’t matter. If she could tell you’re tense, you’re sure Natasha can tell if she so much looks your way.

You’re unsure about why, but you look over your shoulder. It was with a purpose to look at your mother, but you glued onto her again and freaked when you saw her get closer. Hands growing sweaty around the cold drink in your hands when she sits beside you. She wastes no time getting straight to the point, narrowing you with a stare.

“Why’d you run off this morning?”

The conversation you’ve been dreading was unraveling. You keep your eyes on the old tv, not sparing her a glance. She doesn’t budge. You finally turn towards her, meeting her stare, “do I know you?”

It was a complete lie that she seemed to beleive for a split second. She backed up, giving you enough space and time for your mother to come back. You were gone by the time she put the pieces together. The way you looked back at her, nervously swallowed when she got close, and sat still when she spoke to you. You definitely recognized her.

You ran into them again at the market a day later. Whoever they went, you copied, hiding behind anything you could to avoid being seen.

You ran into them again when Natasha was getting gas at the station you liked off Westview. You went above and beyond to push your seat back, putting yourself out of the span of her line of sight.

You ran into them everywhere. The only place they had yet to wonder into was your grandparents land. It felt like your safe zone, the area where they couldn’t roam.

That proved to be wrong when you crept into the stable at sundown, visiting the newer addition to the stable. You met him a day ago when your grandfather took you out to see him for the first time.

You sat in the corner of his pen on a stool, watching as he ate the feed you poured into his food mound into. Your grandfather mentioned needing him to get used to new people as they wanted to train and sell him eventually to a rider.

“Why’re you up so late?” wanda had asked almost as if she came out of nowhere. It startled you and the sound your hand made when it hit his feeder had him freaking out as well. Wanda’s quick to unlatch the door, pulling you into her. The wooden edge caught onto your skin, dragging and pulling it until it bled.

“Thank yo—“

“No need, my apologies for scaring you,” she looks towards the terrified horse, “and him”

“Ah no worries, he gets scared often,” you brush the hay off of your jeans, “why’re you in here?”

“We bought half the stable two years ago.”

Of course they did.

“Oh.”

“Guessing your ma didn’t tell you?”

You shook your head, reaching an arm out to slide it down the side of his snout, bringing him to eventually stand still. She waits patiently beside you, looking between you and the horse.

“Got yourself cut there?”

“I did?“

Her fingers weave under your arm, pulling it up and showing you the slice your arm took a minute ago. She looks saddened, “I’m sorry, angel, I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”

“It’s just a small cut. I barely even knew it was there I’m so immune to them.”

She doesn’t look pleased. She invites you to her house, and you want her to leave. It’s not her, it’s you. You can still feel your nerves spike after all these days when you see them time after time again. Going back to their house would mean you’d have to see how the two of them are doing, and lately, they haven’t been in the same room.

If there’s one thing you remember from last night, was that they came together and were almost wrapped in each other’s arms.

“At least let me cleanse it before anything tries to infect it.”

You agree and she sits you down on the chair in the tack room, coming back a second later with a small bag. The cut did not draw any attention to you when it happened, but you’re thankful she noticed or else the blood could’ve spread onto your clothes or anything else you touched.

Neither one says anything while she rubs disinfectant on the gash. The horses in their stalls were making much more noise in how they huff and walk around. Being cooped up in a little cell would drive you crazy. Like being cooped up in this room with Wanda was suffocating.

“Have you had any meds since last night?”

“Yes,” you rush to look away when she glances at you, “ma has a supply in her cabinets.”

“Good.”

Oh my gosh you want to run back into the house and stay in there until you fly back to New York. She’s entirely calm and her fingers are steady, something you’re trying to copy.

“If you need anything, come visit.”

It was the undertone of her statement that confused you. It was inviting. She put the cotton pad into the trash, coming back to sit beside you. Her fingers were so gentle, hovering over your skin and unintentionally giving you chills.

“Thank you.”

Her smile so soft. She finishes putting the small bandage over your arm and walks back out to put it away. You don’t want to run now, partially because you’re with the one who’ll lay the truth down in a kinder way.

“What happened last night.”

You know she heard you when she laughs out loud, the sound light and airy. It confused you, bringing you to ask more questions. She motions for you to leave the room, the key going into the lock after.

“You got drunk and cried if Natasha or I tried to leave. We all decided it would be best if we just brought you to our house for the night. You fell asleep the second your head hit the pillow. Natasha heard you being sick late into the night, I believe it was 3AM? She left to help you—“

“That’s a wonderful story,” you cut her off in hopes to not hear the rest, but you’re incredibly relieved to find you hadn’t slept with them that night, “I am so terribly sorry you had to deal with that.”

“If you’d like your clothes from last night back they’re folded in our laundry room.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“We wanted to.”

You walk past the first few stables to grab your phone off the table you had set it on when you walked in. You flit it into your back pocket, “would you be alright if I stopped by to grab my clothes tonight?”

“Not at all.”

The front gate to the stable shuts. Wanda pulls a small flashlight, shining the light to help you both walk back towards their house. Her eyes were focused ahead, shorter hair covering half of her side profile.

“When I first met you, how long had you been married?”

“About three years,” she explains, “we got married in the summer.”

“The pictures in your home are beautiful.”

She thanks you, walking ahead to open the door to her estate for the both of you. The moon’s full, providing enough light that almost puts the flashlight to shame. It shows the shorter path ahead of you, marked by dried dirt and stones.

The door to their home opens and Natasha walks to stand in the doorway. The two greet each other with a kiss, whispering small pleasantries. It’s only for a second, but it singles you out and makes you feel you’re imposing. Natasha holds the door for you to enter, letting the screen door swing shut once you’ve all entered.

Wanda walks you through their house towards the laundry room, indirectly giving you a tour of everything you ran past in a blur that morning. The emerald green backsplash in their kitchen and wooden cabinets. Little miscellaneous items thrown about like a stack of papers and a random hair clip.

“Here,” she peeks into the laundry room, setting the clothes onto your open arms, “sorry they’re all cold, I promise they were warm this morning.”

You laugh awkwardly, the shy sound getting cut off from Natasha calling for Wanda from another room. You two found Natasha standing in the living room, holding an opened envelope. Shreds of paper were on the floor, results of her careless attempts of opening the letter.

“Why are we still getting mail from the Parsons? We finished their payment last week.”

Wanda takes it from her hands, scanning over the letter for only a second, “it’s possible they’ve forgotten, they’re entirely too old.”

Natasha mumbles under her breath and goes to place it with the other thrown about papers on their dining room table.

“I’m probably going to head out now,” you look behind yourself, ensuring that you’re actually walking backwards towards the door, “thank you for everything.”

“Course, angel. Have a good night.”

You smile, feeling like you’re being drowned underwater as you step down the porch. Their conversation can be heard even as you’re halfway down their driveway, the screen door doing nothing to separate building from the rest of the world.

You grow cold as you walk back home, the light and warmth their home brought escaping you with each step you took walking away from them. It’s loud back at your grandparent’s home, most everyone is situated in the backyard, but a few remain in the living room.

Your aunt greets you first, asking where you were before asking if you could help your brother with the dessert since apparently he’s “still recovering from last night.” You doubt that but you’re in no mood to fight.

Your grandparents are sitting on a one person couch. Legs are intertwined and hands held and it brings back a memory from last night in their home when you were laid over Natasha’s waist in a similar position. You leave the room with an aching feeling in your chest.

There’s times when you were unsure of how you were feeling. The reason why you felt off sometimes never making itself known. You were home with family, a plate with crumbs laid on the table between you all. It was fine, you were safe and in a warm building with food and water and everything necessary.

When the lights turned off in the house and everyone had gone to bed, you still felt a tight squeeze in your chest. You labeled it as a combination of so much happening the past couple of days, and the fact you drank more than usual just the night before. When you climbed in bed, you fell asleep looking at the little lit-up house down the road.

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servicpop · 3 months

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CURRENTLY VIEWING : slightly obsessive deliquent oc x good student male!reader

「ㅤSFWㅤ」ㅤbandaging up your (almost) bf adrien after a bad fight!

✙ warnings — mention of violence / blood / slight homophobia / slight suggestions of stalking or obsession

notes ,, first actual writing post... hope you guys like it "

Adrien and you lived two worlds. You were a model student, perfect in every way, whereas Adrien was nothing but a deliquent who skipped all his classes and failed all of his subjects (except for sports). If you two were so different, how did you end up together?

It started with an exchange of glances when you both started your first year of being a senior, somehow your presence was never known by Adrien until that one glance turned into never ending eye-contact, briefly smiling at eachother as you two met eyes from across the courtyard. His heart felt like it was about to crumble whenever you smiled at him. Your lips, your perfectly imperfect teeth shining at him. He had definitely fallen for you.

But how would his friends feel if they knew he was crushing on another guy?

As much as he wanted to hide it he couldn't. Everytime he went home and sat down in his chair, he would be welcomed with your face in the form of printed pictures stored in his top drawer. He knew it was wrong but he couldn't help it, you were so attractive you reeled him in like a fish. But somehow. Somehow. You and him talked more and more, exchanged numbers, hung out a few times and even brushed hands once! Adrien for sure didn't wash his hand after that. You weren't confirmed to be dating but it sure seemed like it.

And that was the start of Adrien's fall for you.

It was around 5:00pm, the sun still shining brightly but casted a slight orange hue into the empty council room, indicating that sunset would near. You were currently in said room, sorting the books, cleaning the tables, finishing off the work your teachers assigned you because you were such a good student. Yeah it was nice for them to rely on you but to be honest, all you wanted to do was go home but alas you couldn't.

Almost as if the universe pitied your unbearable boredom, the door to the council room clicked opened. At first you thought it was a teacher, but turning around you met the deep eyes of Adrien. His soulless eyes bore into yours, his knuckles dripping with blood as he stumbled into the room, almost collapsing on the couch.

"Got into another fight," He grumbled, his deep sultry voice reverberated in the room. Shit, his voice was hot. Snapping out of your thoughts, you quickly rushed over to him, viewing his bloody and bruised knuckles. It looked bad. Probably from beating the shit out of someone but you wouldn't question it. After some rummaging around you finally found the first aid kit, clicking the white box open before kneeling down infront of Adrien, a small smirk plastered his face.

"You don't have to you know? I just wanted—" Adrien's voice was cut out by a sharp hiss as you applied the alcohol to his wounds.

"Let me be a good friend to you."

Ooh... friend? That hit Adrien straight to the gut

"I just wanted company."

"Then your not allowed to hold my hand with those bloody knuckles."

"..."

"please bandage my fingers."

A wholehearted chuckle left your throat as you fished out the puppy patterned bandages around his knuckles, making sure you kissed each and every knuckles after. Just to make sure that there was no lingering pain of course, not because you two were had something for eachother or anything. You looked up at Adrien to see a small smile on his face, he was always so serious looking and whenever he smiled it was usually the shit eating grin type of smile. You had only really grown closer with him for a few weeks now so... why were you already hooked on him?

"You lost in thought?" He asked, snapping you out of your little trance. You shook your head, and he brought your chin up to meet his in a light kiss, his calloused fingertips gripping your chin lightly while his other hand found solace in your own. It was something straight out of a romance movie, his warm fingers against yours, his lips against your soft ones in such a gentle kiss. You never knew deliquents could be this gentle. Pulling away you wiped your lips and tugged your hands from Adrien's. You weren't dating him. You can't do this. You turned your head a pout adorned your lips, "Don't just casually kiss me," you huffed.

"But I know you liked it." Adrien hummed.

extra notes ,, I didn't have a full goal for what relationship reader and Adrien would have but i really liked the enemies to lovers sort of denial trope. I also experimented with the colour coding of the text, I find it easier to identify when they're speaking but let me know your preferences! I'm a bit nervous posting this since its my first time ever posting on tumblr but yeah! Also no smut yet, still getting warmed up you know

#servicpop — fics/drabbles #bottom male reader #male reader #oc x male reader #x reader #sub male reader #male x male #male x reader #mlm

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gtgbabie0 · 1 year

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Missing Lego bricks

{You come home to Spencer losing his mind over Lego pieces}

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Spencer, for the most part, is a level-headed person that’s what he likes to think at least. But right now at this moment, he thinks he might just go insane. He’s looked everywhere, in every nook and cranny of his living room and he’s starting to regret all of the books he leaves haphazardly around.

You had got him the typewriter Lego set for his birthday, and he was completely over the moon. In fact, he had even cried a little at the heartfelt gift, it was the first time in a while where his birthday didn’t feel like such a dreadful experience.

He remembers it so very fondly. How your eyes glistened with excitement as you watch him unwrap the present, the way your eyes crinkled with joy. He had rambled off about the history of typewriters to you a couple of times and in all honesty, it warmed his heart to know that you actually listen to him.

“Baby? I’m home” you call out hanging your coat on the hanger as walk further into his apartment. He would have greeted you and helped you with your coat and bags whilst sneaking in a shy kiss or two, but he was completely and utterly hung up on this lost Lego piece, he’s starting to think it might’ve just simply disappeared.

You smile, standing in the archway, he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose before threading his fingers through his hair, his eyes scanning over the floor.

“You lost something?” You ask, and he perks up with surprise as if he didn’t even hear you come in.

He's quick to grab the instruction manual off the floor before jogging over to you, tripping over the stack of books that sit beside the coffee table. “This one- I’ve looked everywhere baby and I can’t find it, it’s just gone,” he tells you, pointing to the rouge piece of Lego.

You look over to the half-built typewriter noticing the way he had separated the different parts into small piles.

“Well it’s gotta be around here somewhere,” you tell him and he sighs, looking at you with disbelief.

Spencer is adamant as he shakes his head, “It’s not- it’s just poof, gone” he explains, his hands gesturing in every which way as he tries to get his point across. And you can’t stop the little giggle that slips from your lips, he looks like he’s going to lose it.

“Don’t laugh- this is a serious problem” he tells you watching as you cover your mouth with your hand, trying to stifle your laughter.

“Okay, I’ll help you find it,” you tell him as he thanks you softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You both search for the tiny piece of plastic for a good minute or so. Moving the furniture around as you check in every corner of the room, looking behind all the books.

Then it hits you as you look over at the couch, “Have you looked under the sofa yet?” You ask. He frowns pushing the sleeves of his jumper up to his elbows as he scoffs at you.

“Looked under the sofa? Yes of course I did” he says, and you can tell from the way he fiddles with the strings of his jumper and the smirk that teeters on his lips that he’s lying.

You go and make some snarky comment something along the lines of ‘for a genius that was pretty dumb’ he could already hear it before the sentence could even leave your lips.

“Don’t even say anything” he says, a playful look flicking through his eyes as you purse your lips trying to stop the growing smile. You watch as he walks over to the sofa carefully stepping over the Legos that were neatly placed on the floor.

He picks up the edge of the sofa lifting it up slightly with a small grunt as you check underneath the couch and there it was a small grey Lego brick.

“Got it!- there you go pretty boy” You hand him the piece of plastic, watching as his eyes light up he. He thanks you as he walks back over to his place on the floor.

You join him on the wooden floor, your thigh against his knee as you watch him as he continues to build the typewriter, “Can I help you?” You ask, handing him the bricks.

He looks over at you, admiring just how pretty you are with those love-filled doe eyes of his. He presses a kiss to your temple. “Yeah of course you can sweetheart” he tells you, shuffling to make room for you.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

AN/ just wanna say that my requests are open! {I can also write for Emily Prentiss!} 💕

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katemartinismywife · 2 months

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senior night - p.b

☺︎ paige bueckers x texas women's basketball player ☺︎ ☺︎ fluff ☺︎

"So you actually aren't coming?" Ryan asked her long term girlfriend Paige. "I can't make it mama, i'm so sorry" Paige was grateful that the two weren't on facetime. She was trying so hard to not tell the truth. Paige wasn't the best at lying, but she really wanted to give Ryan this special gift.

Ryan and Paige have been dating for over a little of four years. The two met while they were both at Overtime headquarters. After their first time talking they were inseparable. They had agreed to make long distance work and hope that one day their lives would settle, so they could move in together and start their lives.

Since basketball season has started they have barely seen each other since they were on different schedules. The last time they saw each other was when Ryan flew to Storrs for their game against Maryland. But that was back in November, it is now February.

Ryan had missed her girlfriend so much. It was beginning to hit her hard. All she wanted was to see her especially on her big day. "Are you at least going to watch?" Ryan sighed walking into the locker room. "I'm going out with the team tonight, but if it is on somewhere you know I will" Paige spoke trying to not break her heart more.

"I love you" Before Paige could respond Ryan hung up the call. Paige knew she was upset, but really hoped that this would work. She hated when her baby was unhappy. Paige was currently on her flight to Texas texting Ryan's sister about how much she hated hurting her.

Of course Paige couldn't do this big surprise by herself, so she allowed for KK and Auzi to come with her. Ryan loved the two girls, so it would be great for her to see them too.

Ryan slipped on her bose headphones and changed into her warm ups. "Ryan you okay?" Jordana asked her. Jordana Codio was her best friend on the team. "I'm good" Ryan smiled, but it never reached her eyes.

jordana: pb you got my girl stressing lol

pb: i love her sm

jordana: i'm excited for y'all 😭

It was officially time for senior night to begin. Ryan met up in the tunnel with her mom and her sister. Ryan was an a very emotional person, so she immediatly began crying. "Stop crying crazy, nothing has happened yet" Her sister laughed giving her a hug"

"Ryan Andrews"

Ryan began walking wiping her tears off her face and smiling as the crowd cheered. Finally being able to clear her eyesight, what she didn't expect to see was her girlfriend standing beside her head coach.

She stopped in her tracks with her hand over her mouth. Paige laughed walking up to her giving her a tight hug as Ryan broke down into tears. The love stricken crowd began to "aw". "Stop crying mama" Paige spoke wiping Ryan's tears off her face. "I want to kiss you so bad right now" She spoke quietly releasing her from the hug and holding her hand.

Coach Schaefer walked over to Ryan hugging her and giving her the microphone. "This is so awkward. Um, I just want to thank Coach S and all the rest of my amazing coaches for helping me improve throughout these four years. I have loved playing for this team. A huge thank you goes out to my mom, sister, and paige for helping me through all of the mental and physical breakdowns. I love you guys so much and I am not a cute crier, so I'm going to stop talking now" Ryan laughed hugging her coach again.

The crowd busted out into cheers and claps. "I am so proud of you" Her mom told her wiping her tears. "Thank you mommy" Ryan walked off the court hand in hand with her girlfriend. "You made me cry meanie" Ryan smiled nudging her girlfriend. "I'm sorry baby, but I wanted to surprise you on your big day" Paige pulled the girl into a hug placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Go win" Paige told her smiling at her.

TEXAS LONGHORNS W, 71-46

Right after the last buzzer Ryan ran right over to her girlfriend engulfing her into a hug. Ryan wrapped her legs around Paige's waist and secretly kissed the side of her neck. "You did so good mama" Paige smiled rocking the two side to side.

"Don't leave! I'm going to go take a quick shower and then I'll meet you out here" Ryan jumped off of her. Looking around making sure the coast is clear. She threw her hands around her neck kissing Paige's soft lips. "I love you" Paige spoke between kisses rubbing her hands up and down Ryan's back.

"don't go anywhere okay?"

"i'm not going anywhere" Ryan walked off smiling and throwing her arm around Jordana's shoulder. Paige watched the now overjoyed girl skip off to the locker room.

She really did find her person.

#wcbb #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn women’s basketball #texas woman's basketball #my ocs #fluff #pb #paige bueckers fluff

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jaegersdevil · 9 months

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it's a bad idea, right? - eren jaeger

Ex!Eren x Fem!Reader

summary: seeing your ex after a night out… it’s a bad idea, right? cw: 18+, smut (afab!reader, unprotected sex, creampie), exes to lovers, swearing. w/c: 4.5k a/n: first time writing a ~proper~ smut, kinda bad, kinda fucking terrified to post but, we move 💪 olivia's new song is perfect for an exes to lovers whore such as myself, so i had to use it in a fic. enjoy :) masterlist

Despite having the same friends, you hadn’t seen or heard from your ex for 2 months. The break-up was mutual, something about growing apart and wanting different things. Sure, you were upset, devastated even, but something inside you that knew you’d hold him again. And somehow, that one sliver of hope had wrapped around your heart and held it hostage.

It’s how you found yourself at Moose with your two friends, Hitch and Annie, on the brink of passing out. The club’s multicoloured lights gave you a headache, and the generous amount of alcohol you had consumed an hour earlier started to wear off, but you continued to dance, laugh, and sing with the two girls.

You held your phone in your hand as you threw your arms in the air. The room was lively and had been the best night you’d had at Moose in the past few months (or maybe it was because you knew who would call you tonight…).

But when Hitch slapped you on the arm, and the phone in your hand started vibrating simultaneously, you had an inkling of who was calling.

“Don’t answer it,” Hitch yelled over the music, her eyes narrowed.

You shrugged and, without looking, declined the call. “Who was it?”

“Don’t act dumb,” She shook her head, still jumping around.

You rolled your lips between your teeth, and your heart started pounding faster. There was only one person who could elicit that tone from Hitch.

You kept a playful smile on your face, and it remained when your phone rang again. But, this time, you faced the screen toward your body so the girls wouldn’t see.

Eren’s name flashed on the screen, along with his contact photo: him with bedhead, shirtless, with the biggest smile on his face. Why his contact was still in your phone, with that specific photo, was beyond you, but all questions were out of your head when you turned around and left the dance floor without explanation.

Swiping right to answer, you brought your phone to your ear. “What?” It probably wasn’t the most polite thing to say, but you were half-drunk, and your feet hurt.

“Hi to you too, baby.”

The tone of his voice sent shivers down your spine. It was the first time you’d heard his voice in months.

“Eren,” You said, squeezing through groups to get to the bar. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great, actually, now that I’m talking to you.”

You could hear the smirk in his voice over the music, and that’s when you could tell you were in trouble. “What’s up?”

He hummed into the receiver, but you could barely catch it. “Wanna come over tonight?”

“Why?” You asked, but it was playful.

“I got a new place. Wanna give you a tour.”

“Do you? Well, where was this call, I don’t know, a month ago?”

Eren groaned into his phone. “Just come! Please, I miss you.”

You paused as you were adjusting your spot on the bar stool. “You want me to come over?”

“Do you want to come over?”

“Yes,” Your voice was breathless as you answered, and Eren’s soft laughter in the background wasn’t helping. “As friends.”

“Okay, yeah. I’ll text you the address, bestie,” He said. “Can’t wait to see you.”

And then he hung up. You knew what he wanted because you wanted it too.

Flashes of Eren played on a loop in your head: the last time you saw him, the first time, him smiling at you in that cocky way of his, his body on top of yours, his under yours… it was insanity.

“Why’d you leave?” Hitch shouted in your ear. You jumped, a guilty look on your face that you hoped she and Annie wouldn’t notice.

“I feel sick. I think I might go home,” You cringed at how the words came out of your mouth.

And when Annie side-eyed Hitch, you knew they knew you were lying.

“I’ll just get an Uber,” You unlocked your phone and clicked on the app, receiving a text from Eren simultaneously.

How convenient.

Typing in 843 Campanula Street, CS Apartments, you knew you should stop, but you couldn’t. A car popped up: 5 minutes away.

Getting up to leave, you knew they would follow you outside. So, you held Hitch’s hand and pulled her, who pulled Annie out of the crowd and out of the entrance. You adjusted your purse on your shoulder and stepped out into the warm night air.

“You should probably not see Eren tonight. You’re not in the right headspace,” Hitch said behind you. She knew you were lying about feeling sick, so you may as well play into it.

“Can’t two people reconnect?” You teased, glancing over your shoulder.

“Bullshit,” Annie stated boredly.

Blah, blah, blah… Eren, Eren, Eren…

“Listen, I only see him as a friend,” You rolled your eyes. “We’re done, we’re through, we’re never ever getting back together, okay?”

Hitch and Annie shared a look. You’d just told the biggest lie you’ve ever said.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” You looked down the road for your Uber.

Then Hitch choked out a laugh and Annie sighed. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“We just don’t want you to get hurt again,” Hitch said softly after she finished coughing.

You shook your head. “I won’t. Besides, I’m going straight home. I’ll ask him what’s up in the morning.”

Hitch nodded knowingly. “Yeah, okay. Have fun at home. Text us when you get there.”

Your Uber pulled up next to the curb. You smiled at Hitch and wrapped your arms around her neck. “See you.”

Turning toward Annie, you only grinned, making her look more bored. “Don’t be an idiot.”

You threw your hands up in defence. “I’m not. I’m going home.”

“Bye then,” Annie waved and turned to reenter the club. Hitch stayed a little longer to ensure the Uber left, waving enthusiastically after it.

You knew you should stop, but you couldn’t.

Fuck it, it’s fine.

—

When the elevator dinged, you stepped out onto the second floor. It was a nice complex with white walls, gold door handles, and dark, clean carpet, an upgrade from his previous apartment complex just off-campus.

The floor was quiet for a Saturday night, except for the bass from party music coming from the lower floor. The carpet was plush under your feet, and the hanging lights were gold too. Maybe you were more tipsy than you thought as you picked out details you would’ve before.

You saw nobody as you passed the first apartments. But, as you turned the corner of the hallway, Eren was standing in the doorway of the last apartment with a cocky grin.

“Hey,” he called. You looked around and hushed him. It was 1am, after all. “Pish, they’re probably all out anyway.”

You felt your face heat up when you got closer, feeling self-conscious in your party dress and shoeless feet. But you couldn’t stop looking at him. Somehow, in the last 2 months, Eren had gotten more attractive. His black t-shirt was taut against his chest and biceps. His hair was pulled back into its usual half-bun, but the pieces in the front made him look prettier. You swore you’d seen someone much hotter for your sanity, but nobody came to mind. God, he really encapsulated everything you’d ever want and need.

“Seeing you tonight… It’s a bad idea, right?” You giggled, swinging your heels in your hand.

“I’d say it’s the best idea ever, but depends on who you ask,” His eyes raked up your body as you walked toward him. “Besides, just friends, right?”

The dimple you’d missed appeared on his cheek as he smirked, and your confidence grew.

“We’re the best of friends,” At the sound of your voice so low and sultry, Eren blinked.

His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and when you reached him, his hands wrapped around your shoulders, pulling your cheek flush against his chest. The action didn’t surprise you because you would do the same.

“Hi,” He whispered before pushing you away, his hands still on your shoulders.

You were going to speak, but your brain short-circuited. The rational side of your brain continuously asked you why, why, why, while the other side screamed at you to kiss him. It was a jumble of static and blah, blah, blah… Eren, Eren, Eren…

All you could think about was him.

Fuck it, it’s fine!

“Wanna show me,” You paused, flickering your eyes to his. The usual bright green of his eyes turned darker, and his grip on your shoulders tightened—his hands were burning your skin. “The apartment?”

This seemed to snap Eren out of his daze because he shook his head to rid his thoughts, then nodded, stepping back and widening the door to welcome you.

“Uh, yeah, so…” Eren stumbled, closing the door behind him. “This is the apartment.”

You walked inside, placing your purse on the granite kitchen counter and your heels on the floor.

“It’s lovely,” You muttered. From the couch to the posters and photos on the walls, it was so Eren, but it was mature. And it was lovely, different, attractive, but your attention wasn’t on the decor. It was on the owner of said decor, but you weren’t going to make that obvious yet.

Eren rubbed the back of his neck as he watched you look around the space: into the open-plan living room, down the small hallway to the bathroom and the spare bedroom, and then back into the kitchen and to the lone door on the other side of the living room.

“Your bedroom?” You asked, your voice light. You weren’t giving anything away yet. It was risky being here in the first place. There were reasons why you broke up, but you didn’t care at that moment. This was more fun than ignoring each other.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Eren teased, breaking out of his frozen state to meet you at the door.

The air was charged like it used to be, but you dismissed it, making a beeline for the couch—a large L-shaped black leather lounge. As soon as you sat down, all the aching in your back dissipated as you sunk deeper into the throw cushions. You groaned in relaxation, propping your feet up.

“Why do you always get the comfiest couches?” You closed your eyes. “S’not fair.”

Eren didn’t say anything as you shuffled around to get comfortable, pulling the hem of your dress down your legs. He looked at the clock on the wall in the kitchen. 01:47.

“You tired, hm?” He asked, and you nodded, pretending to yawn. Eren narrowed his eyes when you did so. He’d seen that action before, the lesser version of your actual yawn—he’d seen the real one too many times to know when you were faking.

“Guess I’ll take you home then.”

Your eyes snapped open, and you shook your head. But when you saw Eren, a cocky smirk rested on his face, much like when you arrived.

“I knew you were faking,” He laughed, stalking toward you. You pouted and looked up at him, your gaze catching his for a second before you looked away.

“A more detailed tour, please,” You reached out your hand, and Eren pulled you up.

The momentary touch of skin on skin was enough to fry your brain for a few minutes as you mechanically followed him into the bathroom, where you washed your face with his face wash, then into the spare bedroom to look at the view from the window, and finally, into Eren’s bedroom off the living room.

Nothing was said as you entered, but the smell of his room was the same as it had always been—it was just in a different space without you to experience it. Cedar, geranium, bergamot, apple. It was the scent you bought him for his 19th birthday 4 years ago when you first started dating. You were stepping into a time machine, and all the emotions that came with it hit you in the face.

You willed yourself not to cry as you turned your back to him to look over his desk. You ignored the few extra things he’d gathered without you in the two months you’d be apart, but it was all the same. It was Eren.

“You like it?” He mumbled, the heat on your back making sense. You didn’t realise how close he was standing until he spoke, his hands on the desk beside you, caging you in.

“It’s very you, Ren. The whole thing,” You spun around, your hips against his. “I really like it.”

He smiled in relief and let his eyes wander your expression, recounting every mark, pore, scar on your face that he had memorised. It was all the same. You were still you.

“I’m glad,” He breathed. “Thanks, bestie.”

But you didn’t laugh. Your eyes were focused on his mouth. The realisation made Eren lick his lips again, but you noticed they twitched with anticipation this time.

“This okay?” You whispered, slowly wounding your arms around his neck and pushing your hips harder against his.

“You’re kidding, right?” He smirked, gaining his confidence back. His hands slid from the desk to your hips, and he leaned closer, breaths mixing, lips lingering. “I missed you so fucking much.”

Eren’s lips brushed yours as he spoke. And you almost caved. Your fingers played with the loose hairs of his half-bun, and the action reminded you that you’d done this before, more than you could count—but never in the situation you were in right then.

“Fuck it.”

You don’t know who made the first move, but soon Eren was swiping everything off his desk and onto the floor so he could lift you onto his desk. You spread your legs apart and locked your ankles around his hips, pulling him closer. The kisses were sloppy and hasty, making up for lost time. You smiled when he began pushing the hem of your dress higher, his teeth tapping yours as he grinned too.

Panting into each other’s mouths, you slid your hands down his chest and into the waistband of his sweatpants.

“I want these off,” You mumbled, getting your nails under his briefs and pulling them down with his pants.

“Well, I want this off,” Eren laughed, reaching behind you to fiddle with the zipper on the back. The sudden exposure of your back to the hot air of his bedroom sent goosebumps over your skin.

The front of your dress began to loosen, and soon, Eren pulled away from you, his hands carefully dragging the straps of your dress down your arms. His sweats were halfway down his legs, and his briefs sat awkwardly over his ass, but he couldn’t care less, not when you looked the way you did.

The more you reflect on that night, the more you disagree. The thought of being in a club not an hour ago left you feeling gross and probably smelling gross too. But at that moment, you didn’t care because you were with him, in his new room and apartment, and all you could think about was him.

Blah, blah, blah… Eren, Eren, Eren…

Eren laughed breathlessly at the sight of your tits, and when your dress was at your waist, he cupped them with his palms. “Fuck, I missed you.”

Blah, blah, blah… Eren, Eren, Eren…

When Eren leaned down to press kisses to your neck, you reached your hands to play with his hair again. “I… missed you… too.”

“Tell me what you want,” He breathed heavily into the space under your ear when he heard you struggle around the words.

You whined in response, tilting your head back.

He laughed lowly. “I know you know how to use your words, pretty girl.”

The pet name caused a moan to escape your throat, and soon you were clenching around nothing. Your mind was far away, head in the clouds, from being with him like this again. “You…”

“Where?” He pulled away from your neck, his lips plump. “Where do you want me?”

“Eren…” You frowned, eyes half-lidded as you looked at him. Eren’s eyes retraced your expression, his hands brushing stray strands from your face.

A cheeky grin spread across his cheeks. “You’re so damn cute.”

“Everywhere,” You finalised, leaning up to capture his lips with yours.

Eren got the message and wrapped his large hands under your thighs to pick you up. Your legs remained around him as he expertly approached the bed without looking.

“Gotten a lot of practice at that?” You joked, breathless.

But, Eren shook his head and kissed your cheek. “There’s only ever been you.”

The thought brought heat to your ears, cheeks, and body, and soon, you were burning. “Me too.”

“Fuck,” He half-laughed, half-groaned, laying you on the bed. Eren gave you a crazy grin before he opened his mouth, biting your shoulder. You tried to push him away, giggling, but you never forgot his strength. He went down your body, pulling your dress down your legs as he went, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your stomach. Gripping the sheets, you arched, keening into him, chasing the buzz of his lips and the feverish marks they leave. But before he reached your underwear, he sat back his heels and pulled his shirt over his head by the back collar—like he always did.

There was nothing to be shy about, you’d done this a thousand times with him, but you placed a hand on your torso nonetheless. When Eren noticed this, he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Nuh, uh, no being shy around me,” he whispered and picked your hand up, holding it as he leaned over you. You quickly spread your legs to make room for him between them, and he wasted no time filling the space, tucking his other arm underneath your shoulders and lifting you up so your chests were flush. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and will ever see, understand? Us not being together doesn’t change that.”

You sighed, tears springing in the corners of your eyes. Maybe it was the moment or the weeks of not speaking to the one man you trusted with your life, but you couldn’t help the words that tumbled out next.

“I love you,” You mumbled, lifting your free hand up to fun through his hair, pulling the rest out of the bun.

Eren smiled a tender smile you knew all too well, which he reserved for you during moments like this. “And I love you. I’m gonna show you how much, okay? Will you let me do that?” Eren’s voice was soft and warm, your skin ablaze, and your heart grew tenfold.

You nodded, searching his eyes with your own. All you saw was tenderness, infatuation, and everything you had grown accustomed to in the last 4 years. You pressed your lips against him in a quick peck in response to his original question.

Eren laid your body back onto the bed, trailing his hand down your side and into your underwear. You gasped at the coldness of his fingers as they dragged through your slit.

“So wet, baby,” Two of his fingers started rubbing circles around your clit, making you arch into him. “Miss me?”

“I thought we’d already established that, Jaeger… shit,” You squeezed your eyes shut when he pushed two fingers into you.

“Don’t get sassy with me. You know how that goes,” Eren smirked, watching you fall apart from just his fingers.

“Eren, don’t—oh fuck,” You moaned as soon as you felt his fingers go precisely where they needed to, his thumb on your clit. He knew you inside out, and you knew he was getting off on that thought.

Pure white pleasure set fire to your insides as you climaxed, though the embarrassment of cumming so hard on just his fingers never came. Because it always ended like this.

You looked down at your hips, where his hand was inside your underwear, and nearly blacked out from the sheer familiarity of your first time with him. “Take those off right now. We are not repeating our first time.”

Eren barked a laugh, shaking his head as he pulled them down your legs. “I thought it’d be cute,” He mumbled.

“Get up here,” You scolded, but the demand was lazy and playful, making Eren want you more (if possible).

He climbed up your body again, his pants and briefs on the floor, as his cock rested against your stomach when he kissed you. There was no time to be wasted, not when you’d waited months for this to feel him again. You always knew you would hold him again.

Eren sat up, and you wrapped your hand around his cock, lazily pumping him a few times. He was hot and heavy in your fist, and the feeling was delicious. “I haven’t even touched you yet,” You giggled.

His eyes found your core, where you were dripping onto his dark sheets and clenching nothing, and the sight made Eren moan and screw his eyes closed. “It’s just you… fuck Y/n.”

And then you took your hand off him, and Eren’s jaw fell open, looking down at you.

“C’mon,” He whined, and you shook your head, laying back on his bed.

“Fuck me, Eren.”

At your crude words, Eren bit his bottom lip to stop his smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

He hovered over you, his hair brushing your cheeks as he looked down to guide himself into you. He ran his cock through your folds a few times, causing you to jolt, before he sunk the tip into you.

The stretch was like coming home after a long time away, burning with slight pain before the pleasure took over. You welcomed him back into you. Circling your arms around his neck, you buried your hands in his dark locks, pulling the way you knew he loved.

“Jesus,” Eren cursed lowly when he bottomed out; the sensation of you around him was one he’d never forget. “You good?”

“Yeah, baby,” You squeezed his sides with your knees, dragging your nails softly along his scalp. He didn’t move for a beat, eyes trained on your nose's scrunch and relieved smile.

“Good girl,” He whispered, pecking your lips as he rocked in and out of you. Your hands pulled at his hair harder than before, and he groaned into your lips, your mouths touching but not kissing. “You’re so tight, fuck.”

And when he picked up his pace, you cried out into his mouth, the feeling and sound of his body on top of yours familiar and obscene. Above you, Eren made the pretty sounds you’d once begged to hear again. And soon, perhaps too soon, your stomach twisted into a coil again, his thrusts becoming too much when he continually hit that one spot like he always did. His voice became rough and desperate, panting your name before the volume increased.

Words tumbled out of his mouth sloppily, curses and jumbled questions, and your name. His usual deep groans turned to whimpers, and the sound made you reach your high faster.

“Close?’” Eren asked, running a hand down your body to find your clit, fingers slippery as they circled quick.

“Mmhm, yeah,” You mumbled, nodding sporadically and arching your body to mould to his, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

And then, the coil in your stomach snapped, and the white-hot flash that burned you from inside set you ablaze. Your body opened up for him, and Eren chased to meet you at the top, his movements becoming sloppy as he fucked you through your high. You’re too sensitive, warm, and wet, but Eren came inside, filling you fully.

He groaned deep into your ear, shuddering, and at that moment, you vowed to never let him go again.

—

After your activities last night, Eren gave you his favourite t-shirt and wrapped you up nice and tight in his sheets. You kissed him repeatedly, making promises under the blanket of night, the moon your witness. Never again would you leave, not when you knew him like you did, when you’d spent four years of your life moulding to each other. You cried, Eren cried, you laughed, he held you, you flicked his forehead, he tickled you. It was like you’d never said the words that caused the downward spiral of your life in the first place.

Reaching over to grab your phone off the bedside table, your notifications were filled with messages on messages from your group chat with Hitch and Annie, and… Reiner?

07:24 Hitch: Where are you?????? Answer pls!!!!

07:59 Annie: Y/n istg

08:50 You: Sorry I was asleep

08:50 Hitch: Thank god

08:51 Hitch: We’re gonna facetime rn

You groaned and turned your head toward a sleeping Eren. His hair was all over the place, his face innocent and soft, his skin golden and back bare. He was all you could ever want and more.

You slowly lifted the charcoal grey duvet to swing your legs out and sat up. Your entire body ached, and your legs shook as you stood up. Stifling a laugh of embarrassment, you tiptoed out of his room, careful of the one creaking floorboard he’d warned you about the night before.

It wasn’t until you got to the living room that your phone vibrated with an incoming group Facetime.

“Hi,” You said tiredly, trying to block as much background as possible; they knew your apartment better than you did.

“Good morning,” Hitch glared through the screen. Annie said nothing.

“What happened to your neck? Hm?” The brunette asked, her voice accusatory.

You moved toward the couch, sitting on the lush black leather, tucking a pillow behind your back. “Oh, I tripped and fell—”

“Yeah, into Eren’s bed,” Annie cut you off.

Hitch muffled a laugh, and you stared at her in disbelief.

Your mouth opened and closed with no sound. “No?” You visibly cringed when the usual statement came out as a question.

“Y/n!” Hitch yelled, a smile taking over her false scold. Annie rolled her eyes with a hint of a smirk. Then, all that could be heard was laughter.

“Well, at least you’re okay. I mean, it’s just Eren,” Hitch giggled. You smiled at her, grateful for your friends.

“Oh! Reiner texted me too,” You suddenly remembered seeing his name on your lock screen.

“Reiner?” The confusion in Hitch’s voice matched the thoughts in your mind. Why would Reiner text you privately?

You clicked around your phone until you opened Reiner’s message.

02:49 Reiner: i’m happy for u and all, but pls stfu

But you couldn't find it in yourself to care, even after the realisation that all your friends knew you'd slept together washed over you. Because all you cared about was him.

Blah, blah, blah… Eren, Eren, Eren…

a/n: prologue

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sunkendreams · 8 months

Text

SIDELINES.

you haven’t seen jesse pinkman since high school — and he’s the last person you ever expected to connect with. however, times have changed — and so have you.

part 1. | part 2. | part 3. | part 4. | part 5.

༄ PAIRING. | jesse pinkman x [female] reader.

༄ FORMAT. | one-shot, multi-part — not requested.

༄ WORD COUNT. | 9.6K.

༄ WARNINGS. | drug use, references to substance use/addiction, past jane/jesse, emotional trauma/hurt, jesse’s internalized hatred/guilt, acquaintances to lovers, smoking, smut, smut with plot, making out, dirty talk, breast play, cunnilingus, hair pulling, bottom!jesse, riding, morning sex, aftercare.

༄ AUTHOR’S NOTE. | I don’t know where I’m getting these ideas, but I have a lot of projects in the works right now. Some are horror-related and some aren’t. Honestly, I’m just happy to be writing again no matter what the content is. Thank you guys for your continued support & love. I couldn’t do it without you all! Peace! ☺️

The scent of marijuana, pungent smoke, and a toxic amalgamation of sweat and AXE body spray wafted throughout the house, music jacked up so loud that it made your ears ring. You remained at your perch, stuffed along the wall of a stranger’s house while your friends got stoned in another room.

You were dragged to this party out of sheer loyalty to your friends and a boredom that outweighed anything else. Regret rippled through you, nose stinging from the foul smells that hung like a noxious haze in the living room. The drink you clutched within one hand was watered-down, tiny slivers of ice swirling around within the cup.

Some mediocre hip-hop song blasted throughout the house, bass loud enough to shake the very foundation — you were thoroughly surprised that the police hadn’t been called in for a noise complaint.

Grey wisps of smoke drifted in your direction, and you swatted at it with a wrinkled nose. It wasn’t your typical scene — the sort of party, at least. Partying was something you were accustomed to — harmless college parties with drinks and weed, but this was something else.

There were people snorting lines of cocaine off of a glass coffee table, and you swore that one person had passed out entirely in the kitchen. A strange sensation crawled across your flesh — a feeling that you weren’t exactly meant to be here. Your friends had driven you down here, but you were prepared to take your chances with walking home.

“Wanna hit?” A man asked you, gsze half-lidded, lips curled into a less than attractive smile. He propositioned you with a jerk of his head, motioning toward the thin line of fine, white powder sitting along the coffee table.

“No thanks.” You waved one hand in dismiss, weaving through the crowds to retrieve another drink. The kitchen was destroyed, ravaged by strangers with little respect for the home. Debris, trash, and the remnants of marijuana were everywhere. You nearly stepped on broken glass.

It felt like an out-of-body experience — as if you were simply a spectator, an observer who watched the chaos around you. You didn’t thrive or revel within it — you were indifferent. The vices of your friends differed greatly from your own, to quite an extreme degree.

As you watched the swarm of people, all huddled together within the living room, the air became stifling and stuffy, as if it threatened to suffocate you altogether. They reminded you of zombies — barely moving in one place, all drugged-out from whatever concoction of pills and illicit substances were available at this party.

You silently slipped outside, abandoning your drink somewhere on the windowsill as you stepped out into the cool night breeze. You inhaled, greedily drinking in the crisp freshness of dusk, hands roaming over your thin cardigan as you began to shuffle to the edge of the porch.

Moonlight pooled through the wispy clouds as they fluttered through the night — everything was so much quieter outside. The thumping of the bass had diminished, and the skunk-like scent had dissipated altogether.

The door opened behind you, a figure slinking out onto the porch a few feet away from you. “Hey.”

It was somewhat unfamiliar until you’d actually glanced over your shoulder, gaze landing upon a most familiar face — Jesse Pinkman. The two of you made eye contact; Jesse’s face blossomed with a subtle realization.

“Holy shit,” You let out a bark of a laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Jesse Pinkman, right? You went to J.P Wynne.” You hadn’t seen Jesse Pinkman since high school graduation — you distinctly remembered his social circle.

Jesse recognized you sometime during the midst of the party — a true wallflower, despite your popularity in junior high. It surprised him to see a girl like you at one of his drug-laden festivities, but then again, life was full of surprises. He looked tired, skin pale and eyes baggy as he leaned against one of the columns.

“Yeah,” Perusing his pockets, he fished out a cigarette, placing it between his lips. “You were one of the Honor Society members, right?” Jesse recalled your stellar academics and social standing — his polar opposite.

You made a face, keeping your arms folded across your abdomen. “Yeah.” Admittedly, Jesse wasn’t exactly someone you were friends with in high school. Cordial was a good word for it — your parents never would have allowed you to hang out with someone like him, anyway. “We were in Mr. White’s chemistry classes together.”

Upon mentioning Walter White, Jesse stiffened slightly, feigning innocence as he cracked a thin-lipped smile. “Jesus,” He exhaled, reaching for his lighter. “It’s been awhile.”

There was a prevalent exhaustion that hung within his eyes, a loneliness that almost felt tangible within that moment. He avoided eye contact with you at-times, hands fidgeting when you stepped closer.

“It has.” You paused, rubbing your palms across your arms. Despite the acrid heat that New Mexico produced during the day, the temperatures dropped drastically at night. You shivered, a delicate smile creeping across your features. “Did the party get a little boring for you, too?”

He’d forgotten about you a little bit — forgotten about just how beautiful you were. You’d only gotten prettier, too. Jesse felt the sting of sheepishness and inferiority that came with being around someone like you — a good person, someone with responsibilities and respectable morals. You weren’t a criminal — you hadn’t killed somebody.

Jesse almost felt as if he shouldn’t be speaking to you, but he pressed on. “I guess. Needed some air, you know?” He noticed your constant shivering, prompting him to remove the baggy, black jacket he wore. “You cold?” He asked, gesturing toward the garment he carried.

“Oh,” Warmth crept along your flesh, brows knitting together as you shook your head. “You don’t have to do that, Jesse.” It was a thoughtful gesture, something you didn’t expect, but you were freezing and the dress wasn’t doing you any favors.

“Nah, go ahead. Might smell like cigarettes, though.” Jesse forewarned, tucking one hand underneath his arm. The long-sleeved Henley he wore was more than enough for him.

You thanked him, slipping into his hooded zip-up. He wasn’t exactly incorrect — it did smell of cigarette smoke intermingled with the cologne he wore. You didn’t mind, though.

Silence drifted between the two of you, awkward enough to make you uncomfortable as you fished around for your cellphone. Minutes ticked by without a word. Jesse appeared to be a little nervous, and you wondered if it had anything to do with you.

There was a string of texts from your friends inquiring about your whereabouts. It was a little after ten o’clock, and you fully intended on walking home. “It was nice seeing you, Jesse. I hope you’re doing well.” You cleared your throat. “I’m going to head home.”

Jesse opened his mouth to speak, lips fumbling around the unlit cigarette. Surely, you didn’t want to talk to him — Christ, he was practically a stranger. It felt cruel of him not to offer to give you a ride home, or something like that.

“Hey, uh,” Jesse cleared his throat, clamoring after you. “I can give you a ride home. Could be stalkers or crazy people around.” His reasoning was weak, but it seemed to resonate with you, oddly enough. He felt strange — he barely knew you outside of what he perceived in high school.

You knew that Jesse had gotten in trouble with the law in school — everyone knew. Gossip was prevalent at J.P Wynne. Part of you screamed to refuse, to politely decline and endure the lengthy trek home, but a sliver of you wanted to accept, to indulge in your curiosity.

Jesse had always been kind to you in the very rare, occasional interaction you’d had with him. He hadn’t given you any reason not to trust him. It was a nice change of company — refreshing, almost. There was a clean slate between the two of you.

Your shoulders slouched and sluggishly lifted in a weak shrug as you rubbed your hands together. “You don’t mind? It’s on Nauman Drive, past downtown.” A decent drive, for sure — a half an hour or more. You expected him to reject you given the distance.

“Nauman?” It was a nice area, he knew that much. “Yeah, I don’t mind. You care if I smoke?” Jesse inquired, gesturing around toward the garage. He didn’t care about the house — it almost seemed to fade away into the background. He needed a break, time to think.

“Go ahead.” You trailed after Jesse, following him toward the paved stretch of driveway. A 1984 Toyota Tercel sat, red paint beginning to fade and show signs of weathering. It was beat-up, but certainly held a bit of rugged appeal.

Jesse awkwardly shuffled to open the passenger door, and you thanked him, sinking down into the felt seats. The car smelled of cigarette smoke and cheap air fresheners, but it was tidy and clean inside. You placed your purse down onto the floorboard in front of you.

Blowing a pillar of smoke into the air, Jesse hastily finished his cigarette, fingers beginning to quiver as he opened the driver’s side. He hadn’t really spent time with a girl since Jane — but you didn’t remind him of her whatsoever. There were many qualities you possessed that certainly contrasted from her, not that it was a bad thing.

“Do you live here?” You asked, head canting to one side. There were other cars scattered around the block and parked on the street, but his happened to be the only vehicle in the driveway.

“Uh,” Jesse glanced at you, absentmindedly wetting his lower lip. “Yeah, I do.” He turned the key forward, car rumbling and puffing to life. “Bought the house months ago — used to be my Aunt’s.” He clarified, wondering if you would ask about the obscene amount of drugs.

“You don’t think it’ll burn down while you’re gone?” You questioned, lips twitching into a thin smile as you rolled down the passenger window, letting your elbow rest up against the ledge.

Jesse let out a huff of laughter, and shrugged his shoulders. He began to back up, rolling out onto the empty roads. “It’s been through worse shit.” His wry statement only made your smile flicker again, but he vehemently focused on driving instead.

You felt the barrier melt a bit at that — it was comforting to know that the two of you didn’t have to behave like complete strangers. Silence simmered again, settling between the both of you as he concentrated on finding something on the radio. It served as suitable background noise.

“What are you doing nowadays?” You avoided the topic of the party — it wasn’t worth mentioning. A cool breeze whipped through the car as he began to drive, causing goosebumps to prickle along your shoulders.

“I don’t know,” Jesse confessed, cerulean hues flickering in your direction. “Drifting, I guess.” It was the first time where he’d revealed a sliver of his true feelings. The parties were a worthwhile distraction — soulless events where he could find solace in all of the chaos surrounding him. “Shit, it’s a long story.” His laughter was shaky.

“You don’t have to do a full confession, Jesse.” You reassured, playfully prodding at your cardigan. “I’m not wearing a wire.” With a gentle exhale, your tone softened as he pulled out onto the highway. It was almost soothing — driving back home with somebody you never expected to see again.

Jesse laughed at that, running a hand across his disheveled hair, and then planting it against the back of his neck. The support groups he’d been attending didn’t work — there was no comfort he’d been able to find.

Everything felt like some massive distraction from the root of the problem — the residual pain he was dealing with from Jane, from Gale. His heart hammered within his chest, and he looked at you again. Oddly enough, your nonchalant behavior and lack of judgment would’ve been enough for him to spill in a different setting.

“Hey, what about you? What are you doing these days?” Jesse immediately shifted the focus away from him. He was far more interested in what you had to say than his own life. Besides, it would pull him out of his own head for a little while.

The inquiry was unexpected but not unwelcome, causing you to adjust yourself within the passenger seat. “Oh,” You cleared your throat. “I’m in college at the University of New Mexico. I’m still trying to figure out what I’d like to study — getting basics out of the way. I work at a cafe.”

Normal, uneventful, peaceful — Jesse envied you.

You were achieving something mundane yet safe, something that he wished he would’ve done long ago. Maybe things wouldn’t have happened in the way that they did. His countenance became a touch forlorn, but it wasn’t the time to become mournful over the past. He couldn’t go back, not anymore.

“Yeah, that’s …” He nodded, attempting to conjure the right words to say. “That’s good, really good. You know you could do anything you wanted. You were always really smart and shit.” Jesse replied, gaze hyperfocused upon the road as headlights raced past.

You could detect that Jesse was holding something back — that minuscule flicker of pain had crossed over his visage before being forced to dissipate. Your eyebrows furrowed together, and you reached over, gently prodding at his shoulder.

“Hey,” You began, tone laced with concern. “Are you okay?”

Jesse felt his heart constrict within his chest, wisps of air stolen from his lungs. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked that — and genuinely meant it. It wasn’t out of obligation, that was easy to tell. He felt his throat grow thick, but he staved off any tears.

“Yeah.” It was a blatant lie, spoken through a clenched jaw. He nearly winced when you touched his shoulder, feeling as if he were souring the mood entirely. “Just, uh … You know, going to therapy and rehab right now. It’s been tough.” A very threadbare half-truth, but it was enough to placate you.

“Oh.” A warmth crept into your voice as you withdrew, countenance softening as you sank back into the passenger seat. “That’s understandable, Jesse. I’m sorry.” You replied, tucking strands of hair behind your ear as you looked out the window again.

Albuquerque was a sprawling city, and as the two of you neared the nicer end, Jesse knew that Nauman was only ten minutes away. He didn’t want to go back to the party anymore — but it might’ve been the best option. If he stayed with you, he knew the pain it would cause. He feared losing people — it was present all the time, a nagging dread that never stopped.

“Don’t be sorry,” Jesse interjected, knuckles tightening on the steering wheel. “Did that shit to myself, you know?” Addiction was behind him. He rarely participated anymore — he was just a silent observer, fueling everyone else’s vices while he withered away. What kind of a life was that?

You canted your head to one side, lips parting slightly as you spoke. “Jesse, that’s not entirely your fault. You can’t blame yourself for your environment or circumstances out of your control.” You were right — but he made the choice to shoot Gale, and he made the choice to shoot up with Jane before she died.

He was silent, feeling the sensation of tears swimming within his gaze. Jesse didn’t want to even remotely consider crying in front of you — he barely knew you. Instead, he focused on the road, taking the exit towards Albuquerque Studios. Nauman wasn’t very far away.

You couldn’t recall the last time you’d had a conversation with someone else that was this raw and vulnerable. Jesse’s discomfort was palpable and very real to you, and you felt horrible. Your countenance glistened with concern, brows furrowing together.

After the exit, Jesse drove onto Nauman Drive. There were rows of beautiful, lavish houses and apartment complexes, ones that he probably could’ve bought with the dealing money. He was blowing it all away right now on drugs for the parties — he was beginning to ask himself ‘why?’

“My apartment is at the end of the drive.” Your voice had softened, hands planted within your lap as he followed your directions. It was a smaller apartment complex but much nicer, your driveway occupied by your vehicle.

Jesse pulled up along the curb — it was eerily silent, aside from the cacophony of crickets that provided a steady ambience, and the occasional bark of a dog. He put the car in park, still gripping the steering wheel. “You got a nice place.” He murmured, a halfhearted attempt to shift the conversation to something else.

“Hey,” After unbuckling your seatbelt, you leaned over the center console, palm resting over his hand, the one that was strangling the wheel of the car. “Why don’t you come inside? I can make you coffee or something and you can just space out for a little while. We don’t even have to talk.”

The offer was generous — admittedly, Jesse wondered if it would benefit him in any way. If he could just lay on your couch, decompress, let the emotion off of his chest. He didn’t care about the state of the house — he didn’t care about anybody at that party. What he did care about, however, was you, and how you made him feel.

It was as if the invisibility he’d been safely floating in for so long was shattered, but there was someone who could actually see him — see the veil he’d been maintaining for this whole time. His gaze finally flickered toward you, who appeared genuinely concerned for him.

You were good — truly good.

There wasn’t an ounce of maliciousness or an underlying agenda. You didn’t smoke, you hadn’t touched drugs, you were in college with a steady, normal job that never got you involved with the wrong people. Jesse knew what he’d be putting you through if he let this drag out for too long. If he fucked up, people could hurt you.

“Listen,” Jesse swallowed, palm planted against the back of his neck. “You’re really sweet, okay? You’re nice,” He wanted to word it in a way that wouldn’t hurt your feelings. “I just — I can’t. I’m not in a good spot right now. I don’t wanna drag you down with me.” That sounded fair, didn’t it?

You could accept that.

If it had something to do with the drugs, which you assumed that it was, then you understood that he was trying to protect you. You wanted to encourage him to try, but the last thing you wanted to do was pressure someone in a fragile state.

“Okay, Jesse.” You hesitated, pressing your tongue against the inside of your cheek. “I just want you to know that you're not alone. If you need someone, I’m here for you. I know that there was a wedge in high school, but I don’t see any reason why we couldn’t reconnect.” You shrugged, popping open the passenger side door.

As you stepped outside, you made sure to remove his jacket, draping it over the center console as you shut the door. Jesse didn’t say anything as you rounded the car — he was biting his finger, eyes squeezing shut as you made the short trek toward your front door. It felt like an eternity until you’d actually gotten inside.

Jesse exhaled, hands trembling as he hastily wiped away straggling tears that he’d been withholding during the span of the whole drive. Part of him knew that he could use a positive influence like you in his life, but the danger that lurked around him, the cloud of loss, he was afraid that you’d become lost in all of that, too.

The deliberation between going back to his house and biting the bullet to stay with you was a tedious process. He sat out in the car for a long time — he was surprised that you hadn’t come back outside asking why he was sitting there with his head pressed against the steering wheel.

When he finally made the choice to go up to your door, the walk felt like a lengthy, eternal drag. Jesse rocked forward, pressing his hands against his face as he composed himself. Back in high school, he was suave — much more of a charmer. Nowadays, he felt incompetent, but it was largely due to an amalgamation of nerves and drug use.

He knocked a few times, skin crawling with a nervous sensation, but there was something exciting about it, too. You were familiar yet new, a breath of fresh air that he desperately needed. Jesse watched as the door opened, and there you were.

“Hey, uh,” Jesse stuck his hands into his pockets, rocking back upon his heels. “Is the offer still on the table?” He’d ask, and your lips split into a gentle yet bemused smile.

“Of course.” You’d changed into your pajamas — a baggy, oversized graphic t-shirt and cotton shorts that were dwarfed by your top. “Did you want to watch a movie? I was about to start Watchmen.”

Jesse watched as you stepped aside to invite him in, closing the door behind him and latching the lock. You had a weird itch for security, especially at night. “Yeah, that sounds cool.” He replied, having a look around.

Your apartment was tidy and very cozy, with a rather comforting aesthetic and atmosphere. Jesse felt a little more relaxed, wandering around in the small living room. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the plush sofa, scattered with throw blankets and pillows.

As you prepared coffee, you wondered what changed his mind. It was a question that would likely nag at you until you asked. You understood being lonely — aside from the occasional hangout with your friends, you lived alone.

“Make yourself at home,” You chimed, weaving around the coffee table to place your steaming mugs down, settling into the couch. Jesse sat a comfortable distance away, arm slung over the back of the sofa. “What changed your mind?”

Your question caught him off-guard, but he wanted to be transparent with you. He owed you that much, especially after talking to him — after this, after everything. “I knew that I’d be miserable if I went back,” He shrugged. “I don’t wanna keep being miserable.” Loneliness also played a factor in this, but he didn’t really want to own up to it just yet.

“I understand,” You began, tucking one knee toward your chest as you played the movie. Admittedly, it served as better background noise than anything else. “I’m glad you came over.” Your lips split into a soft smile.

Jesse hesitated, glancing over at you as he stayed silent. He was most definitely drinking you in, gaze subtly raking you over as you took a sip of your coffee. For a moment, he envisioned this — getting close to you, hanging out with you, just getting to be himself, or as close as he could get again.

“I’m glad, too.” Jesse confessed, rubbing at the back of his head. He nearly shriveled at the eye contact you made with him, but he maintained it instead, lips twitching into a faint smile.

You nudged your drink back onto the wooden table, wordlessly slinking closer to Jesse until you were curled up beside him. The silence simmered with something else, perhaps a crackle of affection. Your gaze glistened with a peculiar softness, flickering between the movie and him.

Admittedly, this was the last thing Jesse expected — but that didn’t stop him from wanting it to happen. Once you initiated, he decided to meet you halfway, draping his arm around you, cheek pressed against the top of your head.

He’d been craving something like this for a while now. Jane left a void — a massive, gaping wound that he feared wouldn’t heal, but now? Maybe there was an end in sight — maybe there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Jesse relaxed, sinking into you as you cuddled up with him.

Your hands intertwined, fingers brushing together until they joined. Just like Jesse, you were chasing after the sensation of touch, chasing after that feeling of fulfillment — no more loneliness. You’d been dealing with it for a long while, trying to manage the sea of emotions, and this was a nice break from that.

“I understand feeling miserable,” You murmured, head resting comfortably against his collarbone. “Sometimes it feels like you’re alone out on a raft, in the middle of the ocean.”

Jesse’s jaw tightened, but there was a mutual sense of empathy and understanding within your words. That was how he felt oftentimes — just himself, attempting to stay afloat. He didn’t say anything, but he did caress your knuckles with his thumb as a form of acknowledgment.

As the movie progressed, the two of you occasionally made small talk, but you were a little engrossed by the film, and so was he. It was comforting to just be near him — let him hold you, keep it light with gentle touches and whatnot.

It wasn’t until halfway through the movie that Jesse cleared his throat, glancing down at you with exhausted eyes. “Thanks for this,” He murmured, absentmindedly wetting his lower lip. “Would you wanna do it again? Like, uh … Hanging out, or something?” He was intent on cleaning up his place, now.

“Yeah,” You replied, twisting within his hold enough to peer up at him. “I would.” There was something special about this — perhaps a feeling of renewal, of starting something with someone you never expected. You had a feeling that Jesse needed a little bit of support, and you didn’t mind providing that.

“Shit,” Jesse breathed through a soft laugh, visibly bewildered yet pleased by your answer. “Okay.” He didn’t expect that from you — he didn’t expect anything, really.

The both of you were smiling, now. Watchmen dissipated into the background once more, simply serving as ambience as the two of you nestled together. “Okay.” You parroted, lips curling into a lopsided smile as Jesse gathered his bearings.

You had little time to fully comprehend his next actions — he moved inward, cerulean hues dropping from your face to your mouth. Everything about this screamed sudden and intense, but you didn’t care. He tasted like cigarette smoke and spearmint gum — he had a very sweet kiss.

Jesse inhaled, relaxing into you, careening right into the warmth of your body. Every fiber of his being felt electrified, and he became so incredibly nervous — he hadn’t done this since Jane. He didn’t want her death to tarnish the moment, but it was inevitable.

He pulled away, opening his mouth to speak, yet nothing emerged. Words turned to ash upon his tongue, dying then and there as he hung his head, fingers toying with yours.

It wasn’t difficult to tell that he was struggling with this — you didn’t want to pry, but you didn’t want him to feel obligated, either. “Hey,” You murmured, dragging one hand toward his face, fingertips grazing over his stubbled jaw. “What’s wrong?” It was written all over his countenance, this underlying sense of pain.

“Nothing, just …” Jesse shivered when your palm cupped his jaw, shamelessly leaning into the sensation you left behind from your hand. “I just don’t wanna leave.” It sounded so pathetic — he didn’t want to go back home to a drug-laden pit.

Your lips twitched into a faint smile. “Is that it?” You left it open-ended, attempting to stay on the side of not being invasive or pushy. You wanted him to be comfortable.

Jesse huffed, idly tracing the pad of his thumb across the delicate plane of your knuckles. “Nah,” He admitted, cerulean hues flickering toward your face. “Haven’t really done this in awhile.” Telling you the visceral, painful truth would’ve been too much for him, so he settled on something else, something superficial.

“What, kissing?” You teased, keeping it mellow and lighthearted before he shook his head. “If it’s any reassurance, I haven’t done anything, either. Don’t feel like it’s just you.” With a soft sigh, you watched as Jesse leaned back just an inch or two, head craned to rest against your couch.

There was something forlorn about him, a light aura of melancholy that swirled around his being. You didn’t want to ask, but you couldn’t help but wonder what happened. You were able to look past that — he was attractive. You’d always thought that he was handsome.

“You, uh … You mind if we do it again?” Jesse asked, head cocked to one side. He was some amalgamation of sheepishness and a suave charm, smile somewhat feeble as he held your hand.

“I don’t mind.” You replied, but before he could lean in again, you had something on your mind. “Jesse?”

Jesse stooped closer, forehead nearly pressed against yours. “Yeah?”

“Would it help if you stayed tonight?” Whatever was plaguing him, being alone around drugs was the last thing he needed. You didn’t mind him staying the night — you didn’t mind whatever came with that, too.

He remained silent for a few moments, and immediately felt as if he should say no — and against his own inner turmoil, he wanted to be with you. He didn’t care if the house was a mess or if it had been reduced to nothing — he’d rather stay here with you.

“I don’t wanna disturb the peace,” Jesse began, nose wrinkling slightly when you rolled your eyes. “I can crash on the couch.” Admittedly, that sliver of him that was desperate for affection also wanted to sleep with you, but it was only polite to keep his distance until you said otherwise.

“You’re not disturbing anything. Promise.” You reassured, fingers creeping toward the nape of his neck as you tilted forward. “I want you to stay.” You uttered, your own desire for fulfillment and company mirrored his own want to not be alone.

Part of him really wished you hadn’t said that — but once the gate was open, Jesse couldn’t stop himself, and neither could you. His gaze fell to your lips, thumb briefly caressing your jaw until the two of you were colliding into one another.

Jesse kissed you again, compassionate and borderline needy, hand dropping to grasp at the curve of your hip. His free hand still remained tangled with yours, eyes fluttering shut as you shuffled forward, partially planted within his lap. It was enough to make him forget about the downward spiral he was on, and it was as if the plummeting had ceased — for now.

You didn’t know where this would lead, but that was the exhilarating part about it. The uncertainty and the newfound territory that was Jesse Pinkman elated you. Maybe this was what you needed; he was what you needed — you needed a fresh start.

“Hey, uh,” Jesse whispered against your mouth, fingers teasing the hem of your baggy shirt, grazing over your thigh. “Where we going with this?” It was spoken with compassion and concern, out of total thoughtfulness for you. Maybe you didn’t want to sleep with a junkie — he couldn’t blame you.

“I think I know where I’d like to go,” You confessed, head canting to one side. “Where do you want to go?” You asked, idly trailing your digits through his hair. You noticed the subtle bobbing of his Adam’s apple, accompanied by a peculiar sheen within his eyes.

If it was something serious that you were after, Jesse was unsure if he even had that capability. After Jane, it almost seemed to shatter — fall apart. Maybe it didn’t have to be that way forever. Perhaps, there was a light at the end of the tunnel for the two of you.

Instead of recoiling, Jesse held you closer, wordlessly ushering you into his lap, palm splayed out underneath your shirt, resting soundly at the curve of your hip. “I just,” He hesitated, completely enamored by you — you were beautiful. “I don’t know if I can be what you need right now.” He admitted.

You respected him all the more for his candor, hands coming to rest at the nape of his neck. You decided to kiss him, slow and steady, tilting to one side for something deeper. When you withdrew, your lips twitched into a smile. “I’m patient.” With that conclusion alone, Jesse relaxed.

He felt a bit of pressure relinquish itself from him, like a weight being removed from his chest. Jesse was worried that you’d want something serious, something strict off the bat. He didn’t intend on sleeping around, but he was afraid of disappointing you more than anything.

Given the implication of your interactions, Jesse had something on his mind — he figured that the feeling was mutual.

Jesse remained quiet for a moment, pressing a sweet kiss against your jaw, and then another to your neck. “Where’s your room?” He murmured, nearly shuddering in delight when you absentmindedly tugged on his hair.

“Come on.” Reluctantly, you removed yourself from his lap, taking ahold of his hand as you led him down the short corridor towards your bedroom. It was, as Jesse expected, lavishly-decorated and aesthetically pleasing. It far outweighed the dump he was living in.

“Cute.” Jesse couldn’t help but comment, lips twitching into a smile as he observed your choice of style and the many pillows piled up on top of your mattress. Admittedly, it all felt so cozy and welcoming — it even smelled good.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you watched as Jesse nudged the door closed. The both of you were swallowed by the lower, dim lighting of your bedroom, slivers of orange encompassing your scantily-clad frame.

He pressed closer, hands roaming across your body, one palm gently slipping underneath the hem of your shirt to brazenly grab at your ass. Locked in another heated kiss, your hands moved to push his jacket away, draping across his shoulders.

The sensation of your fingers roaming through his hair was enough to make his knees weak, a low groan resonating within his throat. You tasted sweet, like the twang of strawberry chapstick and the citrus seltzer you’d been drinking at the party. Jesse kissed you again, greedily this time, one hand cupping the curve of your hip.

As the two of you fell onto your bed in a feverish heap of limbs and mouths, you withdrew for a moment, getting yourself adjusted. You prepared to remove your shirt until you saw Jesse laying there, eyes half-lidded. Exhaustion was scrawled into his face, as if it were a permanent feature.

“Are you tired?” You asked, more concerned about his state of wellbeing. You were getting hot and bothered, but your own desire could be put on hold for a little while.

Jesse appeared embarrassed, but with the bags underneath his eyes and the perpetual state of tiredness that hung around him, he couldn’t lie to you. “Yeah,” He chewed at the inside of his cheek. “Shit, this feels pathetic. I’m practically blue-balling myself.” He mused, and it made you giggle.

“It’s not pathetic, Jesse.” You reassured, opting to climb into bed and make yourself comfortable. Jesse kicked off his shoes, following suit until he was resting at your side, arms tangled around you. “You look like you’re seconds away from crashing. I think we can put sex aside for now.”

Begrudgingly, he felt you cuddle against him, head near his collarbone as he made himself comfortable with you. His erection happened to push into your rump throughout, but before you could make a playful comment about it, his breathing had steadied.

“Jesse?” You whispered, receiving no response. He was most definitely asleep, and you confirmed this by simply rolling over. His expression was cast into one of bliss, still clutching onto you even through slumber. You sank back down with a smile, and decided to sleep, too.

—

Slivers of dawn’s first light trickled through the gossamer curtains — faint enough not to draw any attention, but enough to signal to Jesse that it was early in the morning. He’d stayed the night, and even then, it didn’t seem real.

You were asleep at his side, still nestled against him, but beginning to stir. Jesse couldn’t tell if it was because you were really waking up, or because his hard-on was protruding into you. He remembered last night — kissing you before he’d fallen asleep.

It wasn’t one of his smoothest moments — not by a long shot.

“Hey,” As the haze of grogginess began to lift, you were elated to find Jesse — still in your bed, and still next to you. Even being disheveled from sleep, Jesse found you to be astoundingly gorgeous. There was perfection to you that he wanted to drown himself inside of. “You’re here.” You smiled.

“Did you think I ditched or something?” He asked, arm draped around you as you shook off the feeling of slumber. Admittedly, part of you thought he’d wake up and leave, but he proved you wrong.

“A little bit,” You confessed, feeling his hand trace idle patterns into the dip of your waist. You wriggled closer, pressing a soft kiss against his stubbled jaw. “But I’m glad you didn’t.” It was complete and utter bliss, waking up with him — it was the last thing you expected, but you could get used to it.

Jesse huffed, hand dragging from your waist to your face, palm cupping your cheek as he caressed your jaw with his thumb. “Nah,” He smiled this time, cerulean eyes boring into you, becoming lost in the mere presence of you. “Didn’t even cross my mind, if I’m being honest.”

You smiled, eyelashes fluttering in rapid succession before you planted a sloppy, slower kiss against his lips. “What crossed your mind instead?” You asked, careening into the sensation of his palm cradling your face.

Jesse felt much better, no longer plagued by the desire for sleep. Instead, there was something else he wanted — he wanted to pick up from last night. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours, hand skimming toward your thigh.

“Lots of stuff,” He began, coaxing you against him as he answered your question in between a series of heated, needy kisses. “All about you.” Jesse confessed, peering at you through his lashes before his hand gently grabbed at your ass.

“Yeah? Do you wanna show me?” You asked, becoming a bit breathless whenever he kissed you. It was accompanied by plenty of groping, ensuring that you were flush against him as the tension rose to a boiling point between the two of you.

You weren’t about to recoil, reciprocating his kiss with a passionate one of your own, stomach churning with anticipation. Your hand moved toward the nape of his neck, fingers lightly grabbing at his hair. Each kiss was sweet yet sloppy, and you could feel Jesse’s hand underneath your shirt.

“Yeah, I do. Do you wanna do this?” Jesse murmured, ensuring that he wasn’t jumping the gun. You could’ve changed your mind from last night — that was certainly a possibility, and he’d be just fine with it. He was partially on top of you, but he leaned back enough to gauge your answer.

“Absolutely.” You smiled, sitting up enough to get your shirt off, which Jesse kindly assisted with. The both of you sank into a rather peaceful moment, blissfully quiet as he wriggled out of his shirt.

Jesse leaned forward again, capturing your mouth in a passionate, heated kiss, his hands finding the smooth curve of your hips. “You’re so pretty.” He exhaled, feeling that little pang of nervousness. He hadn’t touched a girl since Jane, but he wasn’t about to let himself be thrust into the past, not now.

Heat saturated your skin, crawling all over you like a fever. In the wake of Jesse’s compliment, you felt sheer elation, feeling his lips roam from your mouth to your jaw. His hands were everywhere, inevitably finding their purchase against your thighs. He peppered a string of kisses from your jaw to your neck, though his kisses soon turned to suckling.

“Jesse.” You moaned, haplessly grasping onto his shoulders as he left a series of hickeys on your neck. You felt his digits curl around the waistband of your panties, but he made no motion to remove them just yet.

Your moan was enough to make him shiver in delight, gaze following the path of your hand as you hastily unclasped your bra. You had such a beautiful body — Jesse felt some semblance of awe, snug against you as you got comfortable atop the comforter.

Continuing his previous route, Jesse’s mouth kissed down your neck and collarbone, stopping above your breasts. Even your smell was intoxicating — everything about you reeled him in. “Jesus,” He mumbled against your sternum. “You’re beautiful.” It was an endless string of softspoken praises that escaped him.

He was scrawny, with a lanky musculature — you found it attractive in the best of ways. Your gaze occasionally fell across his many tattoos, committing every detail to memory. Your fingers continued to tug and pull at his hair, body jolting into him when his mouth wrapped around your nipple.

A low groan resonated from his throat, rippling across his chest when you continued to toy with his hair. His hand traced down the plane of your stomach, slipping underneath the elastic trim of your panties. You nearly buckled, writhing underneath him when his digits slipped against your cunt.

You felt his mouth suck and kiss at your breast, in-tandem with the teasing ministrations of his fingers. It was feather-light, enough to drive you to the brink of frustration. “You wet already, angel?” It was almost an incredulous statement instead of a question.

Fuck — the nickname was enough to send shockwaves pulsating through your body. Your skin became awash with warmth, lips falling apart as you peered down, enough to catch a glimpse of those half-lidded, cerulean eyes and the adoring tilt of his lips. Goosebumps snaked across your spine, back arching off of the bed.

Jesse wasn’t dumb — he knew that your reaction was from the nickname. He pressed his tongue against his cheek, pressing a string of kisses from your breast to stomach, tattooed hand curling into your panties as he inched them past your thighs.

“Say it again,” It was a command that fell from your mouth, and not a plea. Your fingers happened to tense within his hair, enough to make his jeans become uncomfortably tight. “Please.” With a breathy exhale, you felt Jesse’s lips trace across the curve of your hip.

He felt his heart hammer with erratic excitement, tongue absentmindedly flicking out to trace across his lower lip. Christ, you looked so perfect like this — Jesse watched you, breathing intensifying as you spread your legs just a little bit. He often walked the line between nervousness and confidence, feeling a sense of boldness swell within him.

His breath fanned across the inside of your thigh, lips ghosting over the soft skin there. Jesse’s gaze remained fixated upon you, glistening with a sheen of lust as he finally began to kiss his way to the throbbing between your legs. “Where do you want me, angel?” Jesse murmured, assuming that he knew the answer.

You couldn’t recall the last time you’d felt this way — floating, so unbelievably slick and warm that you felt feverish. Jesse brought out a new level of neediness and desperation that you never thought possible. “Jesse,” You moaned, squirming haplessly as you urged him closer. “Please, please.”

Jesse swallowed, wordlessly following the motion of your hand as he lapped at your cunt, tongue dragging along the length of your slit. You were whimpering, one hand grappling at his freckled shoulder. He was so turned on from the noises you made, enough for him to grind his hips into the mattress.

You sputtered a very pitiful apology when your hips bucked forward, but you were met with a barrage of needy licks and a faint moan. Slivers of morning light pooled through the curtains, falling across Jesse as he buried his face between your thighs. His weeks-old stubble rubbed against the sensitive flesh of your legs.

Nimble digits skimmed forward, one palm splayed against your pelvis as the other gripped down on your thigh. You wanted to sob from how good it felt — he was talented with his mouth, that much was for sure. His tongue flicked over your clit, gestures rhythmic and steady.

A knot formed within your stomach, a coil that continued to tighten, threatening to burst if Jesse kept it up. It all felt like some foreign fever dream, but you much preferred the current reality — Jesse Pinkman, eating you out until you cried. You felt his hand brush against yours, a gesture that was startlingly tender.

One hand untangled itself from his hair, deciding to give him a break, going to hold his hand instead, fingers lacing together. You felt his lips begin to purse around your clit, simultaneously eliciting another noisy, elated moan from your lips.

Your chest heaved with a myriad of throaty, high-pitched whimpers as he sucked on your clit, stars rippling past your vision. No one had ever gone down on you with such reverence and passion before, but now that you’d gotten a taste, you wanted more.

Jesse hadn’t realized it, but somewhere in the thick of hooking up with you, he was feeling like himself again. It almost felt as if he’d been transported back to a time before he’d met Walter White, to a time where he was slinging crystal and simply enjoying life. Each moan, every little mewl and keen that escaped you was akin to music.

“Jesse,” You panted, breathing somewhat ragged as he lapped at your clit. That coil began to unfurl, blistering heat coursing through you, a white-hot rush of sheer ecstasy that caused you to moan and cry out. “Jesse!” You felt him squeeze your hand, a silent reassurance to let go.

Unbothered by the mess, Jesse groaned, feeding off of your orgasm as he lapped at your cunt, ministrations lacking the vigor from before. Your stomach felt like mush, but you wanted him to fuck you senseless — you almost felt embarrassed for how wound-up you’d become.

He was quiet, kissing your thighs as he began to sit back up, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand. Jesse ogled you, head cocking to one side before he spoke. “You are so beautiful.” It wasn’t something spoken lightly during sex — you felt it seep right into your bones, genuine as ever.

“So are you.” You replied, and you watched his throat bob as he swallowed. Jesse crawled up, and in a flurry of unrestrained passion, he kissed your mouth. You could taste yourself, taste him — it was enough to make your cunt throb again, still dealing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Could you, uh …” Jesse mumbled, erection pulsing and rubbing right into the pliant flesh of your thigh. “I want you on top.” He was used to climbing on top of girls and going to town until he ran out of stamina, but he had different reasons this time. “I wanna see you.”

Your heart fluttered within your chest, and you nodded, watching as he rolled over, making himself comfortable atop the mound of pillows lining your bed. There was something eerily intimate in the way that he spoke — maybe it was just you. It was soft and sweet, enough to make you shudder as you straddled his hips.

Reaching for his belt, you unfastened it, moving enough for him to kick his pants off. His hands moved toward your thighs, fingers caressing across your flesh as the both of you worked to remove the final article of clothing. He was quiet this time, staring up at you with a searing, intense look — it was almost adoring.

He was unbearably hard, hips writhing slightly, desperate to be inside of you. Jesse nearly melted at the sensation of your hand wrapping around his cock, giving it a few, sluggish strokes, thumb swiping across the head before you lifted yourself up just enough.

Jesse groaned in tandem with you as you sank down onto his length, digits tensing into your thighs as you adjusted yourself, lips falling apart. You reached for his hands, fingers twining together. Goosebumps erupted across his body, chest fluttering with an unshakable warmth.

“Jesus.” Jesse breathed, watching as you stooped down to press your mouth against his, open-mouthed and sloppy. His tongue traced across your lower lip, and you responded by rolling your hips forward. He exhaled, reciprocating with another heated, messy kiss.

He released one of your hands, enough to grip onto your hip, guiding you into a steady rhythm. Your pace was somewhat sporadic and erratic at first, slipping into a natural flow once he held onto you. Jesse groans, unable to keep from staring at you as if you were perfection incarnate.

You whimper, using your knees to rock yourself up and back down, sinking onto his cock until he’s bottomed out. The intermingling of your moans fill your bedroom, accompanied by the faint squeak and creak of your bed frame. “Jesse.” You mewl, feeling his lips smack against your collarbone.

What started as something slow and sluggish had gained traction, your pace increasing slightly. A crackling, familiar heat raced across your body, making your stomach churn with anticipation, simultaneously pooling with warmth.

A soft moan tore past his lips, skin flushing with a rosy shade as you careened forward, one palm splaying out across his chest. “Shit,” Jesse’s voice emerged again as an excitable pant, squeezing your hand as you continued to piston yourself up and down. “You feel so good, baby.” Any little nickname was enough to make you preen.

Heat rippled through you, continuing to consume your body in waves. He sat up, enough to be within reach of you as he pressed a messy, sultry kiss against your collarbone, clamoring for your mouth as you tilted your head downward.

Your hand snaked from his chest to the nape of his neck, gripping his hair once. Your motions became somewhat uneven and less rhythmic as you rocked yourself on his cock, mewling and whimpering, noises intertwining with his strenuous groans. His palm grabbed at the curve between your thigh and ass, gripping you tight as you rode him.

“M’close,” You huffed, prying your lips away from his, only for you to press a trail of haphazard kisses against his stubbled jaw. “Jesse.” Another whine escaped you, followed by a cacophony of lewd noises. Your thighs felt a strain and burn from pistoning yourself onto his cock so many times, heat pooling between your legs.

Jesse was right there with you, though he wasn’t entirely sure where you wanted him to unload, to put it mildly. “Where do you want me?” He asked again, mirroring his inquiry from earlier. You slowed somewhat at that question, but he shook his head. “Keep going.” Despite the sting of borderline overstimulation, he didn’t want you to stop.

Both of his hands redirected themselves to your hips, guiding you along, letting you grind yourself forward, rolling your hips up and back onto his length. He groaned again, forehead pressed against yours, skin feeling as if it were set ablaze. The hold you had on him already was rather ironclad.

He kissed you again, unusually intimate and full of desire, digits groping and kneading into your curves. Your skin felt velvety underneath his fingertips, and your scent invaded his senses, overwhelming him in the best way possible. His cock was throbbing, swallowed by your tight cunt as you whimpered his name.

“Not inside.” You cautioned, breathlessly clashing with him again — all tongue, teeth and want as Jesse nudged you back. With your newfound position, legs locked around his lanky musculature as he rutted into you, you felt like you were seeing stars. “Holy shit, Jesse!” You moaned.

Jesse wasn’t grotesquely well-endowed, but he knew exactly how to utilize what he had. He felt like he’d broken the barrier right then and there, bottomed out inside of you before he pulled out, cumming onto your stomach. It was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen as thin ropes of slick seed fell across your abdomen.

His chest heaved with recuperative breaths, perspiration glistening along his brow as he hovered over you. The two of you sighed in-tandem, both coming down from a blissful high. Those pretty, cerulean eyes of his consumed you over and over again, fluttering in rapid succession before he lowered himself to kiss you.

It was slow — too slow, almost, but Jesse savored you, instead. Your nails ghosted across his forearm, tracing around the intricate pattern of his tattoo before skimming toward his shoulders. You reciprocated the kiss with a familiar sweetness, unhooking one leg from his waist.

“Sorry,” Jesse mumbled, gesturing toward the sticky mess that was splattered all over your stomach. “You look so pretty like that.” His tone lowered, taking on some delicious pitch that itched a certain part of you, sending goosebumps trailing across your spine.

Before you could respond, Jesse slipped off of you, tugging on his boxers as he wandered toward your bathroom to grab a towel. It was the first one he could get his hands on, returning to you with a rather adoring look in his eyes.

As you cleaned yourself up, making sure to discard the towel into your laundry basket, Jesse reappeared with a glass of water. It was quite endearing, watching the way he took care of you afterwards without being asked to. He sat next to you, watching as you pulled your panties back on and your t-shirt.

“That was really nice.” Admittedly, you needed it — but it felt better than before, all due to Jesse. You curled up next to him, head resting against his collarbone as his palm moved to cradle your face.

“Yeah, it was.” Jesse murmured, wishing that he could stay with you. He needed to get back home — the house was likely ruined. He’d also briefly glanced at his phone and noticed four missed calls from Mr. White’s number. “I wanna do it again.”

You giggled, nose wrinkling in amusement. “Hanging out together or having sex?” You asked, and he scoffed, lips twitching in a brief flash of a smile. “You can be honest, Jesse. I can handle it.”

“Both,” He confessed, savoring the feeling of your hand delicately tracing over the tattoo on his collarbone. “What if I took you out somewhere, yeah? Like on a date.” Jesse couldn’t believe that he’d asked you, but it was out in the open, now — no going back.

“Okay.” You mused, gaze flickering toward his lips. You would never get tired of kissing him — the taste of spearmint and cigarettes had become borderline addictive. “You can take me out.” With that, you leaned forward, pressing your mouth against his.

Jesse exhaled, reciprocating your kiss with one of his own. He squeezed his eyes shut, pad of his thumb caressing over your jawline. “Shit,” He sighed, a forlorn look within his eyes. “I gotta get going. I don’t want to.” He didn’t want to leave, but he had a feeling he’d be seeing you again soon. His phone vibrated again.

You yearned for the contact when he’d rolled out of your bed, getting himself dressed again. Once he found his jacket and keys, you decided to walk him to the door, standing with him in the cool morning breeze. Sunlight glittered down, bathing the both of you in picturesque lighting.

“Jesse,” You murmured, hand poised along the doorframe. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” You asked, watching him linger around on the front step as he glanced toward his car. After everything that happened, from last night to now, you were a little worried. He wasn’t exactly in the best state of mind — that much you knew.

Jesse hesitated — he didn’t have a viable answer to that. His house was a drug-laden pit, he was beginning to spiral, but you’d kicked him back onto a different path. It was an unpredictable road ahead. Even he had no idea how he’d feel by the end of the day, but one thing was for certain — he’d be okay for you.

He swallowed, and then nodded twice. “Yeah, I think so.” His chest tightened with a flurry of emotions, ones he hadn’t felt since Jane was around. Jesse was absolutely enthralled by you — and he wondered if that would lead to your doom.

With that, you nodded, beginning to turn around. Before you could, you felt a hand curling around your wrist, as if guiding you elsewhere.

“Hey,” Jesse muttered, reeling you back in for a gentle kiss. “I’ll see you later.” It was a promise to himself, more than it was to you. He was reluctant to pull away, but the buzzing in his pocket became rather urgent.

The kiss caught you off-guard, stealing every wisp of air right out of your lungs, warmth creeping across your skin until it burned something hot within your cheeks. You opened your mouth, unable to keep from smiling.

“See you later, Jesse.”

You really hoped that you would.

#jesse pinkman x reader #jesse pinkman x you #breaking bad #jesse pinkman fanfiction #jesse pinkman #breaking bad fanfiction #breaking bad fanfic #better call saul #female reader #aaron paul #sunkendreams masterlist

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cod-dump · 7 months

Text

A Married Man

(Inspiration struck me in the dead of night)

———

Soap had been flirting with Ghost for a while, and the man had returned most of his advancements with jokes and more flirtation. But then things started to get serious and there was something obviously bothering Ghost.

Finally, he sat Soap down one evening, nervous and having a difficult time holding Soap’s gaze.

“Johnny, I have something I need to tell you. I should have told you already and I can’t avoid it any longer.”

Soap grew nervous, worried, as Ghost spoke.

“What is it? You can talk to me about anything.”

“I… God, there is no easy way to say this… I’m married.”

Soap stares at Ghost, expecting laughter because this had to be a joke. This was a fucking joke.

“You’re married?”

Ghost was quick to explain, making Soap realize that it was in fact not a joke.

“We got married years ago! We were deep undercover, shit happened, and we got married. It was to keep our cover so we had a legit wedding… and we haven’t gotten a divorce yet.”

Soap blinks, “Mission? Are you married to someone I know?”

Ghost shrinks, “Yes…”

“What the fuck— And you both had been keeping this from me?! Who is it?”

Ghost chews on his lip as he turns away, “I should’ve told you with him. He would’ve been able to explain it better…”

Soap blinks before it hits him. He stares blankly, not sure how to respond. Ghost was obviously nervous, now refusing to look at Soap. Soap looks away from him, staring at nothing in particular as he processed everything.

“This… oh my god-“

Soap gets up and Ghost starts talking again.

“I should’ve told you long ago! Fuck- We should’ve ended the marriage by now!”

Ghost stands and Soap turns to him and hugs him.

“I need to process this, okay? I’ll- We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Ghost is stunned as Soap pulls away and leaves the room. Soap couldn’t think about anything other than the situation. He knows Ghost is losing his mind back in his room, but Soap couldn’t think of much other than the fact that the man he’s been seeing was married. And married to—

“Oh my god-“

Soap stops when he sees the man in question right in front of him. Minding his own busy, Nik talking to him about something rather unimportant. Well, it was unimportant at the moment.

“YOU’RE MARRIED?!”

Price and Nik stop walking and turn. Price blinks, taking a good look at Soap before he understands what is happening. Nik looks at Soap before looking at Price and just grins.

“Oooo-“

“Nik, not now-“

“When were you going to tell me?! Just carry on like nothing- Like I haven’t been fucking dating your husband?!”

Price looks around them, “Wouldn’t you rather have this conversation somewhere more private?”

“I thought you were married to Nik?!”

Price sighs as Nik continues grinning, the man deciding to cut off Price from speaking.

“On all levels except legally, we’re married.”

Soap stares at Price. Price groans as the man silently presses for him to say something, anything that would explain everything.

“Let’s go to my office. Except you, go to bed.”

Nik pouts , “You’re forcing me to miss the fun?”

“Go.”

Nik sighs dramatically before he leaves, snickering as he continues down the hall. Soap doesn’t take his eyes off of Price for a moment as they head to his office. As soon as the door closed, Soap cornered Price.

“What. The. Fuck?!”

Price was acting much calmer than what Ghost had, though given they were in two very different positions given their situation, “What exactly did he tell you?”

“That you two got married during mission to keep your cover.”

“Hm, yea, that sums it up.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Six-seven years. Though we lived together during that mission for three, married for the last year.”

Soap had to sit down, unable to stand. He chose the couch given it was closest and sat down, leaning against it with his jaw hung open. Price, still keeping an annoyingly calm composure, sits at his desk.

“Wales, 2016. Small shit town with some terrorist crawling all over it. Had to get in and figure out exactly what was happening. Simon and I were placed together by Morris and clearly he didn’t think of how suspicious two fit, military men were showing up out if nowhere and moving into a house together. So, we decided to play as a couple wanting to start a life together.”

Soap blinks, “And that worked?”

“Surprisingly. Though after a year and a half of less than good acting, people started getting suspicious. So I decided to make a showy proposal to get things back on track.”

Soap couldn’t help but let out a laugh, “God…”

“Bought a fucking expensive ring, too. Silver, black diamond-“

Soap sits up straight, “No fucking way- He fucking wears that thing all the time!”

Price blinks in surprise, “You’re joking.”

“No! On leave, on our personal days, on our fucking dates-“

Price wheezes, “Guess I did a too good of a job finding something his taste! I thought he would’ve sold the thing by now! Good few thousand on that ring.”

“He told me it was custom.”

“It was. Go big or go home, and a proposal must be big.”

“God you’re extra.”

Price smirks, “What Kate says. You should’ve seen the wedding.”

“Fuck… Can’t believe it… I’ve been fucking the captain’s husband.”

Price laughs and Soap groans out. This was a lot to take in.

Price calms after a good bit of laughter, sighing and leaning back in his chair, “God, can’t believe it took this fucking long for him to tell you! Wait… where is Simon?”

Soap’s eyes widen and he jumps up, “Fuck- Talk to you later! I left him stewing too long!”

Soap runs out of the office without another word, running all the way back to Ghost’s room. He didn’t knock, just barged in and surprised the fuck out of Ghost. One panic attack after a narrowly missed thrown knife and Soap is curled up with Ghost on the floor, his blanket pulled off the bed and wrapped around them.

Ghost was clinging to Soap, head tucked under his chin as Soap held him close.

“Shouldn’t have left like that…”

Ghost mumbles against Soap’s chest, “It was a lot to handle… should’ve done it with Price.”

“God… I still can’t believe you two assholes kept the fact that you’re married to yourselves this long!”

“I didn’t feel the need to say anything if Price wasn’t worried about it.”

Soap hums, “Fair… I have to know something… Did you two ever-?”

Ghost bites Soap and his sentence is forcefully cut off by a surprised yelp.

“Fucking feral shit-! STOP BITING-“

#call of duty #cod mwii #modern warfare ii #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #cod nikolai #soapghost #ghostsoap #priceghost #pricenik #morris isn’t real don’t look for him lol #fic #ficlet #drabble

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writersblockedx · 10 months

Text

Dependency Problem

Pairing - Conrad Fisher x Fem!Reader Summary - When you return to Cousins this year, you find that Conrad has picked up similar bad habits you once had. Warnings - Use of drugs and alcohol, good bit of angst, NO SPOILERS FOR S2 Words - 2.6k

A/n - Possible part two if people want? Let me know!

Masterlist

Every Summer was spent in Cousins. And every Summer, it was spent with the Fisher and Conklin clan. It was always refreshing, that slow drive back up to the house. The air was sprinkled with salt and the skies seemed always clear, a blue-painted ceiling that you could bathe in all day if you so pleased. But, the most important part of the drive was the reunion.

To see them little differences that had changed in everyone in between the last ten months. For Susannah, she had chopped a good bit of her hair off as her golden locks hung close to her shoulders. Laurel had started wearing less make-up, settling into a more comfortability with herself. Your mom had been the opposite, she was experimenting with makeup and style like she was a teen again; you blamed it on a midlife crisis. Belly had hit puberty, no longer plagued by a pair of glasses. Steven even more relaxed that he had been the year prior, and slightly taller. Jere's hair had grown, giving his curls the space to spiral over his forehead. And then there was Conrad - you noticed it instantly.

It was a familiar essence that was loitering over him. The unironed hoodie he had crowded his more lean figure into. His eyes were dragged down by the black bags, irritated with patches of red within the whites of his eyes. His posture was low, tired, aching. And his expression, while uplifted with a smile of welcome, was a facade. You caught it in a moment.

"Finally!" Jeremiah called as he rushed over to his friends, capturing Steven in a bro-hug first, then Belly and leaving you for last. "Good to have you back." He told you as his head sat on your shoulder before pulling away.

From there, you met Conrad's gaze.

You ignored the way your heart felt heavy. You weren't sure what had happened between now and when you had last said goodbye, but you felt far than enough sympathy. "Hi," You breathed, trying to not let out your surprise at the changes the boy had made.

He greeted you in reply with a, "It's good to see you." And took you into an embrace. It was loose and short-lived, leaving you desperate for more once he finally pulled away.

As the first day back went on, it soon all started coming out. Conrad had left football, barely sailed anymore and, as of this moment, wasn't doing anything at all. Compared to Steven and Jere who already had part-time jobs lined up. Something was wrong and you were beginning to wonder about would you could do. Such was confirmed after dinner came to an end. The boys rushed to play video games and Belly went upstairs to catch up with her friend, Taylor.

Which left you and the mums, clearing up the plates from the dining room table and taking them into the kitchen to be washed. For a moment, you stood alone at the kitchen sink while the others grabbed what was left at the table. And there, your eyes wandered to the window which looked upon the pool. There sat Conrad, legs dangling in the flickering water that reflected the moonlight. His eyes were down, his back facing you but even so you caught the cig he placed between his lips, lighting it and letting his lungs inhale the smoke.

It was there you felt that sympathy, that desperation with the lingering feeling of betrayal. The same exact thing Conrad had felt all of last Summer; it was a role reversal.

"He could really use you right now, you know?" That sweet voice almost made you jump.

A part of you felt flushed as you turned to face Susannah who was standing in the doorway; you'd just been caught staring at her son. "Hmm?" You resulted in responding.

The blonde let a smile grace her lips for a moment, "You two bring out the best in each other." She stated like the wise woman she was. "I think he could really use that right now."

You nodded in understanding, "I'll talk to him." That was a promise.

Once the table was cleaned up, the moms travelled towards the living room, wine glasses and blankets in hand. It hadn't taken them very long to get comfy as they switched the tv on. Though, it was made for only background noise, as their chatter rose above it. It left you with that nagging curiosity, the question that you hadn't stopped asking yourself since you had arrived: what had changed?

Before you could stop yourself, your feet were dragging you to the outside, where Conrad had thought nobody was watching. He didn't care enough to jolt when he heard the back door rattle open. Rather, he simply turned his head and huffed before looking back at the pool and the joint in his hand.

You didn't say anything. Not for at least two minutes as you occupied the space next to him, dipping your bare legs into the water below, almost close enough they could brush along Conrad's. "Theres about a hundred things I could repeat that you told me last year." You didn't look at him when you spoke, you didn't dare glance at the expression you were sure painted his face.

"But you're not going to?" He questioned, brows raised, plucking at his never-ending wonder when it came to the girl he had grown up beside.

You shrugged, swallowed the lump that was growing in your throat and finally looked over at the boy you had known since childhood. "What's the point?" You said, almost with a laugh you ended up suppressing. "You know it's not good, you know everything wrong with it. You're making the decision to do it anyway."

His expression was blank. It didn't seem as if there were many thoughts being processed. "Then what are you doing sat here?" There was a snap in his tone, a way to protect his bad habits from any helping hands.

The answer for you was simple: "Because I care for you, Conrad." As easy as that.

But such statement had prompted an incentive you hadn't meant it to. Rather than something thoughtful in reply, Conrad had started leaning in. You were too close and he was too fast for you to stop it. Within a moment, the sentiment you had just said had been cut off by the boy's lips as he met your own in a deep, yet rushed, kiss.

One hand reached his shoulder, tearing his lips from you. You breathed like you had been gasping for it and looked him in the eye. All that stared back at you was a regret that wasn't fading. "You're high." You reminded him.

"I didn't mean to-" Your other hand took the joint that was still caught between his fingertips. An action which made him shut up as he followed your hands quickly. "What are you-" Once in your grip, you chucked the substance into the pool, making it impossible to smoke again. "What the hell Y/n!"

When you stood, so did he. "Please, just go to bed." You advised him. Though, you highly doubted he would listen. You never did.

"You're not my mother!" His voice rose.

And you didn't step down, "No, but I'm sure she'd tell you the same thing." You took a breath to fight off the fury that was bubbling within the pit of your stomach. "If you can't go the rest of tonight without smoking the rest of that joint, then maybe accept you've got a dependency problem."

He scoffed as he took a step closer. "You can say all you want, I'll just call you what you are: Hypocrite." His tone was laced in more than just a snappy manner, now it was toxic, it wasn't a tone you ever saw Conrad use and it pained your heart to have it aimed at yourself.

You sucked up the tears that were brimming at your eyelids and made your last statement of the night, "What have you turned into?" You left him with that, turning your back before he could spit any more insults your way, making a B-line for your room again.

There, you let the tears fall. You wondered yourself, who had replaced the gentleman, sweet boy you once knew? You wondered if he was okay, if he would go back to normal? Truth being, you couldn't be sure. The year before, Conrad asked himself the same things. You had been just as angry, just as snappy, with a bad temper that could blow at any given moment. It was like living with weights on your back that tired you into a shell of a person until you felt utterly transparent in this world.

You didn't much talk to Conrad after that encounter. To be fair, Conrad hadn't really been talking to anyone other than the odd grunt if you were lucky. It wasn't until Belly's birthday when things got shaky again. This year, the birthday girl had taken the decision for everyone to go to Nicole's party. Nicole who also happened to be Conrad's not-girlfriend.

As much as you lied to yourself, being in her home felt wrong. Being on her territory knowing what Conrad had done two nights prior. The lingering ghost of his lips had never felt more prominent than right in that moment as you stepped foot into her house. You felt guilty being there. And not just because of the kiss, but because you had been yearning for Conrad to kiss you for a long time now. You just hated the fact such a big moment was ruined by the stench of weed on his mouth that soon caught onto your own.

Steven budged your shoulder, "You alright?" He asked, a sweet smile hanging from his lips, breaking you from the oblivious stare you had been making.

You nodded forcefully, "Yeah, yeah I'm good."

Steven wasn't convinced but a feminine voice broke him from his concern, "Steven!" His head spun around and his lips twisted even further upright like a Cheshire cat.

"Shayla." And like that, the boy was gone.

With a sigh, you followed in Taylor's footsteps to get a drink. She filled herself a cup of some red beverage and then grabbed one for you too. She huffed and you watched as her eyebrows raised, "Well look how quickly we've been forgotten." You would have been annoyed if she hadn't been right. Belly had left her for Nicole as had Conrad left you for her too.

You raised your red solo cup, "Cheers to that." Your tone was flat but Taylor clinked your cup anyway.

You weren't sure what the night had planned, but you could tell something was brewing.

Three or four hours later, a good few drinks down (you had lost count) and you were on the hunt for another one. The night was still lively, music blaring through the house, struggling against the volume of eccentric, drunk teenagers. When you reached the kitchen, you became hungry for something that wasn't tequila and juice. Thinking the kitchen was empty, you waltzed in. Only then to find yourself face-to-face with the one person you were avoiding.

You came to an abrupt stop as your gaze clung to one another. He was leant against one of the counters, his own glass in his hand, so casual in his checkered shirt and wavy hair. A thousand pictures ran through your head. You almost became nervous that Conrad could see you replaying that kiss in your mind. It was all you had been able to think about all night with the booze and having him dancing around you all night.

It took resilience for you to tear your eyes from him as you continued around the kitchen, searching the cupboards for something that suited your tastes better. It took a minute of you shuffling through cereal boxes and plates before Conrad spoke up. "Top right." He nodded to the cupboard he was talking about and you dared to catch a glimpse of him.

You nodded and pushed yourself from the floor to your tip toes as you opened the cupboard. A selection faced you of liquors and beers. You took the bottle of your choice and poured it into your red solo cup. Conrad didn't let his eyes leave you. "You're not gonna say anything this time?" He pushed.

You thought about whether it was best to reply or whether he was just picking another argument. "Why? So you can yell at me?" You raised your brow at him, and let your hip fall to lean on the counter as you faced Conrad, a good three meters between the two of you. But you cut it short, taking a step as your eyes narrowed with your next words, "Or so you can kiss me again?"

As if he were scared of the very word, he stepped from the counter, "Don't-" His finger was lingering towards you as he bit down on his tongue.

"What? Scared your girlfriend's gonna overhear it?"

"She's not- my girlfriend." He almost couldn't say it. "I didn't mean to do that." Once again, you found you lied to yourself thinking you weren't hurt by that fact.

You swallowed that pain and looked him right in the eye, "I'm not gonna argue with you if that's what you want. But, if you ever just want to talk, you know where I am."

You stared at him, waiting, willing, for him to say something. To do as you had offered and talk to you like a human being, to open up about whatever was driving him to make all these reckless decisions. The moment fell and you realised he wasn't going to say anything. You accepted it and went to leave, "Okay, I'll see you around Conrad." Said so disinterested.

You were almost out the door when his voice stopped you again, "Wait." It was hesitant but, somehow it was sure it was the right decision to make. When you met his eyes, they were like a child's. Somehow filled once more with innocence, but mostly, desperation. "I don't wanna talk, I just-" His gaze flickered to the floor for a second. "I just want you to be there...please." This time, he was the one on the edge of tears.

Once that left his mouth, you were in front of him, taking him into your embrace. He had never hung on so tightly to you like he didn't dare let go like you were keeping him afloat. Partway through the hug, you heard him sniffle, causing you to rub his back. "It's okay," You soothed. "It's okay."

"Conrad?" The voice cut through your's and Conrad's bubble like a blade.

You spilt from one another, turning to the doorway to find Nicole standing there. There was a familiar look on her face; the same one you had been wearing all night. You could only imagine what she must have been thinking.

Nicole left, taking half the girls with her. And, not long after, so did you and Conrad. Maybe you were drunk and he was drunk, or high, or both, but it didn't matter. He had let that shell open only slightly and because he had asked for you to be there, you would be. That night, you found yourself in his bed, soothing him as he fell asleep in the crook of your neck. It pained you to see him with the same habits you had once plagued yourself with. And, as tonight had shown, it had only gained him consequences. Ones of which you would worry about another day. For now, you would be there for him.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months

Note

wibta if i keep having sex with my friends dad? nsfw warning

i (20s cismale) got invited by my friend (20s nonbinary) to try out some new edibles they made last thursday. this isnt too weird because both of us are unemployed (they get disability, i get money from unemployment, and we both live with our parents) and usually during the day their dad (50s cismale) is at work so we get the house to ourselves. well last thursday was different because i came over late in the night when their dad was home, and he offered to make me some dinner too. i get the munchies really bad so i was immediately like yes please and thank you while i fucked off to my friends room. we played some smash bros while we waited for the cookies to kick in, and when it started to hit his dad called us both out for dinner. dinner was great, and his dad is super chill — so he let us raid his alcohol cabinet. i dont think he knew either of us were stoned for the record (im naturally really quiet/dont make eye contact, my friend sounds high 24/7 naturally) so i dont think he was like trying to get anyone drunk or anything. my tolerance is pretty good but my friends is shit so it didnt take long until they were like blackout drunk and passing out on the couch, while their dad and i were both drunk too (not blackout but pretty drunk, and i was still high) and sitting on the opposite side of the couch next to eachother

important fact about me - i crossdress like femboys or whatever theyre called. i like looking really feminine and cute and confusing people. im not trans or anything like that gender is just a game and i am winning it. but i do tend to dress up in very egirl/goth gf clothes if you know what i mean, and i look pretty convincing ive been told (friend tells me i would pass for ciswoman with the makeup on). i think their dad maybe forgot that i was me (he usually sees me in boy clothes) and he started hitting on me? i didnt think i was gay or bi either until he started doing it and i got really flustered but i didnt stop him? again i was fucked up so the attention felt really nice despite it being my friends dad. but anyways he kept getting closer until he kissed me, and it felt nice so i let it keep going? which was probably super fucked up in retrospect. but anyways stuff gets hot and steamy, their dad doesnt bother lifting up my skirt, one thing leads to another and we have sex. he definitely noticed im not a girl during that (its pretty hard to miss lol) but he didnt stop so we kept going for a while

after we were done he and i passed out on the couch in a kind of awkward position, we both woke up in the morning and i think thats when he realized im me, but he didnt seem to freak out even though hes straight?? or at least i thought he was straight. but we had sex again in the morning and then when my friend woke up we all had breakfast and i went back to my friends room and we hung out more and got high again. while we were though i accidentally spilled the beans to my friend, and they FREAKED out on me and said that i was so gross for doing that, and they cant believe that it happened, stuff like that. they kicked me out of their room and their dad had to drive me home because i was shaking bad from it. but while their dad drove me home i was super pissed and mad and not thinking straight (haha) and so i tried to convince their dad to take a detour so we could fuck again. and he was like, okay sure, so we did?? but now i feel horrible for doing it knowing that it grossed my friend out so much, but i really like their dad and he seems to like me too, and i want to keep banging him :(

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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strangemaleswaps · 6 days

Text

Strange Funeral Swap

People chatted with each other around the various rooms at the funeral home, though I couldn't help but feel left out a bit. I was at the funeral of Clarence, my friend Brian's grandpa. I didn't know him too well, besides the occasional visit when I hung out with Brian. He convinced me to come, saying that funerals are a celebration of life, and I was in Clarence's life, even if it was just a bit. I couldn't argue with that, so I did it for him. Clarence would always do little magic tricks involving cards and whatnot, and he seemed like such a nice man. But still, the people surrounding me knew him alot longer, some their whole lives, so I felt like an awkward weirdo standing around while Brian talked to the rest of his family.

After a while the ceremony started and I felt like even more of an outcast when people started crying. After what seemed like forever, it was finally over and Brian thanked me for coming. He said that they were doing the burial the next day, but I didn't have to come. I couldn't anyway, as I had to work.

As I walked out with Brian, I noticed a man sitting on the bench in the hallway outside. He was an old guy that had a pretty big gut and looked like he was missing a finger. I think I saw him a bit earlier but I wasn't sure. I couldn't help but feel his eyes burn into me as I moved by.

Just then I realized that I had forgotten my car keys on the table inside so I ran back into the main area to grab them. The whole place was empty so I quickly made my way into the other room where I found my keys, and back out. But I nearly had a heart attack when the man from before had snuck in while my back was turned. I didn't even hear the door open!

“Hello,” he said. Creepy.

“Uh hi,”

“Shame that Clarence is no longer with us.” I started to get uncomfortable so I slowly began walking away.

“Yeah it's sad.”

“How did you know him?”

“I uh. My friend's grandpa-”

“So you're not related to him?” He interrupted.

“No”

“Good” He then gave an evil grin. I had my hand on the doorknob when suddenly he reached his hand out and a bolt of purple lightning struck me in the face. I think I blacked out but I wasn't so sure.

“Sir. Sir. Sir!”

I woke up to the sound of a man's voice. When I opened my eyes, I realized he was the mortician who arranged Clarence’s funeral. The way he was looking at me, I could tell he was angry but was trying to hide it. I was sitting on a bench in the hallway. How did I end up here?

“Oh, what?” I said in confusion. What was even more confusing was the fact that my voice sounded so gravelly.

“Sir, there is another funeral starting soon. I'm going to have to ask you to leave,” he explained hastily.

“Ok sure.” There it was again! Why did my voice sound like it's dying?”

“Wonderful. Now please hurry up. I have a few more things to set up.” With that he quickly turned around and walked into another room.

The last thing I remembered was that old guy talking to me in the room. He hit me with lightning or something. That must've been a dream but why did I black out in the first place? I guess it didn't really matter. I started getting up, only to find doing so was a lot more difficult than normal. What’s worse was that I noticed I was wearing a completely different suit than I was before…and I gained a lot of weight! My belly was huge, so much that I noticed the buttons on my shirt were starting to give way. I looked at my hands. My fingers were huge! They were like sausages, only wrinklier. I also found that my right index finger was missing. Amputated. God what happened to me?! I searched around for a clue and found a piece of paper in my jacket pocket. It looked like a letter of some sort.

Dear Ron, sorry I had to do this to you but it is what it is. I'm sure you've noticed by now but you're not in your own body anymore. You're in the body of me…well at least the body I was in when I met you!

What? That old guy. Oh no. He's right! These are the clothes he was wearing when I saw him! I continued reading.

You see, Clarence isn't dead. But that body that was in the casket sure was. How is that possible you ask? Well it's simple really. I am Clarence. Like anyone my age, I craved youth. But unlike the others, I actually did something about it. With a simple spell, I swapped my body with someone else's. I desired a young, fit stud, but unfortunately the spell backfired and I ended up in that old guy you're in now. But fret not. The spell could be used one more time! When I first saw you, I knew you'd be my new target. I'm loving your body though, you're a hunk! Too bad for you though. You must've aged at least 40 years! Not to mention gained at least 200 pounds. Well good luck on your new life!

No way! I was stuck like this? I couldn't get up by my legs alone, so I had to use my arms to force myself off the bench. When I got up, I nearly fell right over as the weight of the new body made me lose my balance. I tried walking around like I used to, but found the gut kept hitting my arms so I had to stretch them out a bit further. My knees were killing me under all the weight, making the trek to the nearest bathroom a difficult one. I walked inside and sure enough, the mirror revealed that I was now in the body of an old man. I grazed my hands along the unrecognizable face, feeling the wrinkles that weren't there before. At first I was relieved that I still had hair despite the receding hairline, but then I touched the back of my head, revealing a large smooth bald patch.

I can't believe just like that, I was 40 years older. I glanced down at my pants, realizing that I needed to know what my dick looked like. Expecting the worst, I unzipped my pants to find I couldn't couldn't actually see it past my gut. But I reached my hand down there anyway to find I was incredibly hung! My new buddy started growing, even though I should've been turned off by a gross old man's body. But my dick didn't lie; it actually grew so far out that I could see the tip past my enormous belly. I quickly took my jacket off, and unbuttoned my shirt, to find a fleshy pair of man tits and the now revealed gut. I started jerking, and watched the tits and gut swing around like they were made of jello. I walked over to the mirror and stared at myself as I jerked some more. I came all over the bathroom mirror, and as I cleaned it off, I realized that I didn't know where this guy even lived. I reached into his jacket pocket to find a pair of keys and a wallet with an address on it. I guess this was my life now. At least I can jerk off with a huge dick anytime I want…

#strangemaleswaps #male body swap #male tf #weight gain #body swap

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rustyzebra · 8 months

Text

Steaming Up The Windows

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Smut MDNI!

Posted on A03

2k+ words

Gif by @storiesofsvu

How would you and the CM woman of your choice keep warm while being stuck in the BAU van during a snowstorm?

(Working on the other lovely women currently. They'll slowly be added. Each will have the same prompt but different outcomes. JJ, Elle, Alex and Tara on the way.)

(Thank you to @storiesofsvu and @whiteberryx for helping me with the ideas)

The group was hot on the unsubs case. The last piece of evidence was found, and you left for the unsubs residence and workplace. Emily and you were on the way to his residence. You both vested up and grabbed your winter coats.

It was early January; the snow was whipped around in a frenzy. The weather statement today said it would drop well below freezing in the early hours of the evening. Even so, there was still a psychopath to catch.

The snowstorm that was said to hit the city was in full force. Emily drove as quickly as she could, trying not to spin out. Eventually, arriving at the residence, you call Hotch, letting him know you came. You both scoped his place out, thoroughly checking every room, only to find the place empty.

"Clear!" You both called out. You called Hotch, letting him know the unsub wasn't here. That was until Emily heard an engine revving outside. Emily and you bolted out the door to your van.

"Hotch, the unsub is on the move; we have eyes on him now!" Emily says as she buckles up quickly. You hop in the seat next to Emily and buckle up, readying your gun if needed.

You tell Hotch the direction the unsub is going while tailing him.

"Fuck, the weather is too bad! I wouldn't be able to get a clean shot of the tires!" You say as Emily starts to close into the Unsub. Emily drove nearly alongside the unsub, trying to ram him off the road. Emily almost had him until the van hit something under a snowbank. You both felt some tires pop as you spun out.

You hear the unsub get away as the van finally stops spinning.

"You ok?" Emily says as she tries to catch her breath.

"Y...Yeah, I'm good." You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your body.

You called Hotch, letting him know what happened. You don't know exactly where you are since the unsub lived remotely. Hotch said the unsub could be on his way to one location they found. Most likely, the ones he's using to hold the women hostage. He was on his way there with Rossi and Reid.

You hung up the phone and sighed.

"Looks like we're stuck here until they can find us." I groan in exasperation.

"I'm sure they'll catch that bastard. Now I want to see the damage." Emily hops out and walks around the car. Once she's done scouting the car, she returns, slightly shivering.

"Damn, it's cold out there." She says while rubbing her hands together. "Looks like we hit a whole lot of discarded barbed wire. Three of our tires are done for." Emily sighs.

"Are you serious? Shit." I lean back in the front seat.

A few hours later, we received a call saying they had caught the guy. They got Penelope to ping our location, but it'll take a while before help could come. The storm was getting worse.

"Hotch, are you kidding? We're stuck in this van until morning?" Emily said in disbelief.

Unfortunately, Hotch was right. The storm made any kind of travel or driving nearly impossible. We'd have to wait out the storm until morning.

"Hotch said there should be at least a blanket in the trunk." You said just after hanging up. You leave the van to check and grab the "blanket." Walking back to the front and getting in, you unfold it only to realize it was only big enough to cover one person's lap.

"Blanket, my ass," Emily says while rolling her eyes.

A few more hours go by, and the temperature starts dropping. You begin to shiver now and then. Emily looks over to see you trying to curl up with that laughable excuse of a blanket.

"Hop in the backseat; we can stay warmer if we sit together," Emily says as she crawls over the center console to get to the back, waiting for you to join her. You crawl back with her and sit beside her, trying to share the small blanket as best as possible.

You feel Emily pull you closer by your waist, and a jolt of electricity shoots through your spine. She left her arm there, still wrapped tightly around your waist. You've had your fair share of bickering and closeness, but never this close.

Eventually giving in to the warmth, you lean your head to lay on her shoulder. Emily was nice and warm; it eventually lulled you to sleep. A couple hours later, you wake up colder than before. Your eyes flutter open; the sky outside is dark.

There is a weight on your head; looking up, you see Emily's head resting on top of yours. A blush grows on your face. You pull the blanket up higher, trying to keep the warmth in. Doing so, you feel Emily shift and mumble.

"Are you still cold?" Emily whispers in a gravelly voice.

Your breath hitches; you've never heard Emily sound like this. The only thing you could muster was a nod. Emily pulled away for a second to unzip her jacket and wrap one side around you. Pulling you closer, you were now nearly sitting on her lap.

"Emily, you'll get cold," I say softly.

"Then you'll just have to stay closer to me." Emily raises an eyebrow with a slight smirk.

She beckons you to sit closer to wrap her coat around you. Sitting in her lap facing her, trying to suck in as much warmth as possible.

"Better?" You hear her words rumble from her chest.

Nodding your head as you lay it back on her shoulder.

"What time is it?" You mutter against her shirt.

Emily pauses for a moment while checking her phone. It's the early hours of the morning already.

"About 2 am. Unfortunately, we still have plenty of time before they come for us." Emily subconsciously starts rubbing your back.

"Try to get some sleep," Emily says while leaning her head back on top of yours.

Trying your best to drift back off to sleep, you couldn't. Your eyes refused to stay closed; you were far too cold to sleep. Nuzzling in closer in the crook of Emily's neck, you breathe in her scent. She always smelt good.

"Can't sleep." Mumbling against the skin of her neck.

You could have sworn Emily shivered, not from the cold but because of your lips gently grazing against her skin. Shifting on your knees, you were starting to get slightly uncomfortable, one of your knees slotted between Emily's thighs, finally finding a comfortable position. You place your weight down only for Emily to shift positions simultaneously.

Her thigh puts the right amount of pressure at the apex of your thighs. A whimper accidentally slips out. You freeze with your eyes wide, praying she didn't hear it. A moment went by, and you thought maybe she didn't listen to you, that was until her hands found your hips.

Your head shot up, eyes meeting hers. Her eyebrow is raised with a wide smirk on her lips.

"What was that?" Emily teased.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You looked out the rear window.

The hands on your hips pulled you down onto her thigh again; this time, the whimper slipped out on purpose. Emily leans in close to your ear.

"I may know of a way to help keep us both warm." Her hot breath against the cold shell of my ear sent shivers down the spine. All you could manage was a gulp.

"I don't want to force you, only if you want to," Emily says softly while moving your chin to look her in the eyes.

You thought for a moment. You did have feelings for Emily, but you never thought it would go past platonic. You knew taking this step meant the possibility of never returning to the way things were between you both.

"I... I am pretty cold." You say softly.

Emily chuckles softly before replying.

"I can see that. But if you want anything, I need consent, sweetheart."

Blushing softly, you hide your head in her neck. It's a little embarrassing to speak your mind. You eventually worked up the courage to tell Emily what you wanted.

"I want this… Emily." I mumble against the skin of her neck.

"So cute. You don't have to be so shy around me." Emily pulls my face up to look at her.

"There you are." She says softly. "Now, while looking at me this time. Are you sure you want this? You can back down, and it'll be like nothing happened."

You nod softly again. "I want this Em." You lean in and place a chaste kiss on her lips.

Emily was taken slightly aback by your bold move. She wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you closer as you wrap your arms around her neck, effectively deepening the kiss.

Emily's warm lips trailed down your jaw; you tried your best to keep quiet.

"Let out all the pretty noises you want, sweetheart; it's just us two here." Emily punctuates her sentence with a nip to the underside of your jaw. The moan that slipped past your lips was like music to Emily's ears.

"Just like that, sweetheart." Emily husks in between kisses.

"Fuck, you don't know how long I've been waiting for this." She continues as she trails kisses further down, slowly unzipping your jacket.

"Em" You bite your lip as you say her name.

"Just relax, sweet girl. Let me take care of you." Emily gently laid you back and straddled on top of you as best as she could. Your jacket was fully unzipped, and she placed her hands on the exposed bits of skin on your waist.

"Fuck, Em. Your hands are freezing." You hiss.

"Then warm them up for me." Emily raises her eyebrow and smirks.

Emily's hands move higher up while under your shirt. They run over your covered breasts, squeezing and massaging on top of your bra. More lewd sounds left your lips, and Emily continued. You feel her slip a hand under your bra, her fingertips ghosting across your erect nipples.

"Oh? Well, what do we have here?" Emily muses to herself, her smirk widening. Her fingers came in contact with a bit of metal.

"You know I never pictured you with nipple piercings," Emily says mostly to herself as she continues rubbing them.

"S..so you've pictured this before?" You tried to be snarky, but it came out more of a pitiful whine.

Emily's eyes darken as she leans in close to your ear.

"Of course, how could I not when you always look so…" Emily leans in to nip your ear. "So adorable. Just begging to be ruined."

You gulp at Emily's words. You've wanted this for just as long.

"I bet if I were to trail my fingers down, I'd see just how much you've wanted this too, huh?" Emily teases a finger at the hem of your pants.

Emily once again asked for consent. She waits for you to give her the go-ahead before she unbutton and unzips your pants. She gently slides a hand down underneath your panties. You let out a hiss as Emily's cold finger runs through your folds. She pulls out her hand to show you how wet you are already for her.

"Look at that. It looks like you want this; it's so naughty to be this wet for your coworker, hmmm?~" Emily teases.

She places her fingers in front of your mouth.

"That's my good girl. You're taking my fingers so well already, and I haven't even touched that pretty little cunt of yours yet." Emily mused while your tongue continued to swirl around her fingers.

"Suck." That was all Emily needed to say before she shoved her slick, covered fingers into your mouth.

Swirling your tongue around them as you taste yourself. A muffled moan leaves your lips.

Emily pulled her fingers out of her mouth and had you pull your pants down a little for easier access so you don't get as cold as completely stripping.

"Ready, sweetheart?" Emily asks again.

You nod and feel her fingers slowly sink into you. A moan leaves your body as she crooks her fingers up.

"Emily, p..please." You writhe against her fingers as they begin to pump in and out.

"Please, what?" Emily teased.

"Please .. harder." You say with a pant.

"Naughty girl," Emily whispers as she quickens her pace.

Her fingers work nimbly inside of you. Every time she crooks her fingers in a beckoning motion, you see stars.

"Em, I'm s..so close." You whimper into your hand."

"You want to cum, Sweetheart? You want to be my good girl and cum all over my fingers?" Emily husks in between thrusts.

Your eyes roll back at one intense flick at your clit, and your back arches off the car seat. Emily leans in close and kisses your jaw as your release closes in.

"Come on, be my good girl. Cum for me."

That was all you needed to hear before the coil in your stomach snapped and your climax washed over you. A loud moan ripped from your throat as your body felt on fire. Emily kept gently thrusting her fingers until you finished coming down from your high.

She gently pulls out of you as you try to catch your breath. Emily places her fingers in her mouth; a soft moan leaves her lips. She helps you get dressed again and pulls you close to her.

"Once we leave this damn broken-down car, I will fuck you properly," Emily whispers into your ear.

You can't help the whimper that left your lips.

"And I have to return the favour." You said cheekily.

"There will be plenty of time for that too." Emily's nuzzles against your neck.

You grab your dying phone to check the time. It was nearly 4 am. You sigh happily when you see a missed text from Hotch saying they were coming for you in a couple of hours now that the storm has died down.

"They'll be here in a couple of hours." You mumbled softly.

"Perfect, enough time for a nap." Emily chuckles against your neck.

"You better keep your promise, Em." You whisper.

"Oh, I don't go back on a promise." Emily placed a gentle kiss on your neck.

You chuckle and close your eyes. Falling asleep until you got the call that your team was close.

Pulling apart, you both go back to the front seats. You both were finally going home to your nice, warm beds. Well, one of your beds.

#criminal minds #cm #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss #no other beta we die like Prentiss again

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 4 months

Text

Even Better: part 1 (Angst) (18+)

TLR!Michelangelo x reader

Part 2

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A/N: Finally finished The Last Ronin the other day. Other than making me cry like a bitch, I have to admit it made me thirst for some TLR Mikey. Dude deserves a good smut written about him🖤 And to be honest, I had a hard time stopping once I first got started. This is my longest one yet, goodness😭😂

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You’re April’s daughter and Casey Marie’s twin sister. Most of your life you’ve been dreaming about the turtles of your mother’s youth, but nothing could have prepared you for the real deal.

Reader is at least 20. As far as I know, Mikey is in his 40’s.

Warnings: Spelling, age difference, masturbation (reader), caught in the act, oral - female receiving, dom Mikey and sub reader, dirty talk, unprotected sex, a little pain, size difference, size kink?

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Your mother had told you and your twin sister many stories about the turtles and their rat father over the years. How she and your father met each other because of them. How Splinter taught both his sons and your parents how to fight. How Leonardo fiercely protected his brothers, and as your mother put it, was seen as an absolute killjoy by his brothers. How Raphael matched your father in temper with an equally big and golden heart hiding within him. How Donatello could speed days locked up in his lab, and the many times he inspired your mom in her own lab. And how Michelangelo could light up a room with his loud jokes and bright smile. You and your sister would often point them out in the picture frames hanging around the lair, and beg your mom to tell more stories about them, no matter how mundane. The time your mom and Donnie made a tracking device in the lab, the time your father and Raph played hockey a whole night, or the time Mikey pranked Leo so hard that Splinter put him on cleaning duties for a whole month. You wanted to hear it all. Every single little detail.But that didn’t change the fact that they are all gone now. Your mother’s best friends and your father.

As you and Casey Marie got older, you continued to ask your mother for stories. But while Casey Marie wanted to hear about New York City before the Foot came to power, while you still asked for the turtles, getting more and more interested in the mundane part of their lives. Like whose room was it that you had made your room in? Who used to sit in the seat you sat in when eating dinner? And that mug you found in the storage, who did that belong to that? So many questions, and your mother could only give you so many answers.

Once you reached your teenage years, you started fantasizing about the four mutant turtles. Was that wrong? Their pictures literally hung on the walls of your underground home, so it wasn’t as if you could just ignore them. It probably didn’t help much that you didn’t like going outside, deciding to stay in the lair with your mother, while Casey Marie went out and explored. But that just gave you more time to help out your mother and learn more about the turtles.

As you gathered more and more information about the turtles, you started to form scenarios in your head, imagining how it would be to get together with the turtles. Which one of them would be the best friend, the best boyfriend, or even the best in bed. That proved to be a question you would contemplate for years, finding yourself staring at the pictures of the four turtles in the hallway in your early twenties, still with that little question in the back of your head. Although your thoughts about the turtles had calmed a bit once you had hit your twenties, you could not deny that they still lingered in the back of your head from time to time. So when your sister one day brought a passed out mutant turtle home, you did not know what to do with yourself. You were shocked, and maybe even a bit scared. He was way bigger than you had thought he would have been, but given his age it shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

Your mother knew who he was straight away. It was Mikey. The turtle whose room you had been occupying every since the day you and your sister grew too old for sharing the same bed with your mom. He was bruised and bleeding badly. Thank God for your mothers medical skills, otherwise Mikey’s fate would have been a dark one.

It took some time for Mikey to wake up, but when he did, he was much different than you had thought he would be. Your mother had spoken highly about his jokes and his warm happiness, but during dinner the day he woke up, you saw none of that. The only time you heard him speak the first day, was when you overheard a conversation between him and your mom in the kitchen. His voice was much deeper than you had anticipated, catching you off guard. And of course he heard you gasp and stopped talking, not speaking a word until you had gotten what you needed, and leaving the kitchen so they could continue their talk.

Three days had passed, and Mikey had still not spoken a word directly to you. He had thanked your sister for saving him while you were close by, but that was pretty much. There was this one time where he took up the whole hallway, staring at the exact picture of him and his brothers, you had found yourself staring at many times. When you asked if you could pass by, he did not say a word. He just looked at you out of the corner of his eye, before moving to the side, giving you more than enough space before you ran by.

Michelangelo was really nothing like you had expected him to be like. You had thought he would be nice, open and warm, talking your ear off like your mother had said he always did. But now he was silent, closed off and cold. He almost seemed angry. It scared you a little bit. Made you nervous whenever you were around him. Whenever you were sitting and talking with your mom or Casey Marie, you would lock up when he entered the room. But as much as he scared you, you also found him very interesting. You blamed your teenage fantasies for finding his form attractive. His toned muscles, covered in bruises, and the visible veins on his neck, arms and hands. The wrinkles on his face told of the things he had been through, and his eyes were always so distant, as if he was watching something no one else could see. But when his eyes suddenly snapped to you, catching you staring at him, you panicked, quickly avoiding your eyes, feeling your cheeks getting red. Luckily for you, Casey Marie came into the room, as loud as your mother had said your father was, telling Mikey about something, giving you the distraction you needed to run to your room. You stayed there the rest of the day, too embarrassed to come out.

That evening you laid on your bed, staring at the ceiling above you. You cursed yourself for choosing this room when you were little. Now you couldn’t fall asleep without thinking about Mikey’s eyes on you. Anywhere you looked, you were reminded by the fact that Mikey used to look at the same walls as you did. Heck, you were even sleeping in the bed he used to sleep in. As far as you knew, the blanket, pillow and sheets were also his. It did not matter how many times you had washed them over the years, because they now suddenly smelled strongly of him, not letting you rest for a moment.

You found yourself getting frustrated. None of the turtles had invaded your head so badly ever since you were a teenager, and now you could feel the same need and tension from back then build up between your legs. You pressed your naked thighs together under the blanket, feeling the wetness in your panties. You sighed out in frustration, as you once again remembered the old turtle’s eyes on you. As much as you had felt embarrassed under his eyes, you could not help feel aroused at the thought. He had caught you staring. Michelangelo had caught you with his strong gaze. And now here you were, laying in his old bed with your panties soaked just thinking about him.

Your fingers moved down your stomach, getting closer and closer to your core. It was okay to touch yourself with the older turtle in mind, right? You had done it before, so why would it be any different now? And with that thought you let your fingers slide into your panties, where you found your clit. With yet another sigh you started to rub your small bundle of nerves, letting your thoughts drift back to the muscular turtle. His broad shoulders, his big hands, his thick thighs. With his general size, you could only imagine what he could be packing in secret. You used both hands to slide your panties down, leaving them somewhere under the blanket, before pushing your legs out further, letting your fingers continue their movements around your clit.

A knock on your door caused you to quickly pull your hand out from under the blanket. You sat up in the bed, staring towards the door as it opened. You were almost ready to sink to the ground when you saw who it was.

“Sorry”, Mikey said. “Were you sleeping?”

“Just about”, you answered, tugging the blanket closer around you.

“Sorry. I just wanted to see my room once again”, Mikey said, his eyes falling towards the foot of his old bed. “May I?”

You nodded, watching him as he walked into the room, closing the door behind him. He stood for a moment, staring into nothingness, before his eyes moved to his surroundings. It was almost just the way he remembered it. You had only moved a few things, but other than that, it looked like his old bedroom. Same bed frame and all. He let out a small chuckle, remembering all the memories he had between these four walls. The chuckle was light, lighter than sounds you ever had heard from him. That surprised you, and Mikey noticed, though he decided not to say anything about it, acting as if he forgot you even were in the room. Acting as if he couldn’t smell the heavy odor in the air. Truth be told, he did not notice the odor when he first came to the room, nor did he notice it when he walked into the room. It wasn’t until he stood a few feet from the bed that he really noticed it. But with his back turned to you, he did not dare to move or look in your direction. It was the same smell he had noticed when he caught you staring at him earlier that day. It was a scent that seemed to follow you, at least whenever he was around. Yet it wasn’t until now he realized what that scent could be signifying.

You watched as Mikey moved around the room, feeling your legs shake under the blanket. As horrified as you were, you could not deny the excitement. Knowing that lower half of your body was naked under the blanket, with the old mutant just a few feet away from you. You clenched your teeth as you rubbed your thighs together, your eyes lingering on the way his overalls clung around his thick veiny thighs. You had to keep your breathing calm as you the movement in his muscles, and the way his big hands smoothed over an antiche on one of the shelfs. Slowly, making sure his back was still turned to you, his focus on everything else except you on the bed, you let your hand move back under the blanket, once again finding your now dripping core. You suppressed every sound as you slowly started to circle your clit again, your eyes focusing on his hands. The size, the veins, the roughness. You could only imagine how they would feel against you. His rough skin against yours.

“You’re young”, Mikey rumbled, his back still turned to you. You froze, your heart pounding. Yet you managed to remove your hand before he spoke once more. “But you’re not stupid. You know I know what you were doing. I can smell it”. He turned his body towards you, taking small slow steps towards the bed, his voice deep and echoing against the brick walls of his old room. Once again, terrifying yet strangely arousing. It was at that moment that Mikey decided to let go. For the past 20 years he had traveled alone. He was tired. He felt lonely. And with this sweet scent in the air, begging him to come closer, he had to surrender. Even though you were one of his best friend’s daughters, he could not deny your beauty or how your hormones in the air drew him to you. “I could smell it when you were staring at me, and I can smell it now as I’m telling you”. He was now so close to the bed, that his knees were hitting the mattress at the end of the bed. In a slow move, he was standing with both of his knees planted firmly against the bed under him, towering over you. You were too stunned to speak, your mouth dry as you tried to swallow. But damn it, it didn’t change the fact that your heart was beating fast and your nipples were hard under your shirt. “But one thing I can’t smell…”, the mutant continued. “... Is if you still have your underwear on under the blanket”. He took a hold of the fabric of the blanket, pulling slightly at it, making it move down your body, stopping right over your hip. You whimpered slightly. You knew you found Mikey attractive, but this was almost ridiculous. He hadn’t even done anything, and you were already out of breath. “What will I find, (Y/N)?”

“Off”, you choked out. “They’re off”.

“Good girl”, Mikey hummed, pulling further on the blanket. It tickled as the blanket slowly moved off your skin, causing you to curl your legs up against you. With the blanket in his big hands, Mikey’s stare burned into your dripping core, just behind your closed legs. He could almost feel the heat from his towering position, watching the glistening of your folds in the dim light, your sweet scent taking a hold of his senses. Mikey suddenly felt hungry. Hungry in a way he had never felt before.

The churr that erupted from his chest almost made you jump in surprise. It was deep, deeper than you had ever dreamed it would be.

Silently he let go of the blanket to grab a hold of your ankle, his big hands easily opening you up for him. Not that you tried to fight him. No, not at all. All you could do was watch him and his hungry eyes as he crawled further onto the bed, making you gasp at every touch of him against your skin, and marvel at the sheer size of his hands on your ankles. Mikey used his rough hands to keep your legs open for him, letting him move closer to your core. Your breath hitched when you felt his breath against your knee, just before the inside of your thigh. You let out the slightest moan as Mikey’s eyes locked with yours, just as his lips meet your thigh, just above your knee. His hands slipped under your knees, sliding up the outside of your thighs, bringing your legs over his shoulder and onto his shell, before curling around them, his big strong arms holding you open, revealing your aching core even further.

“I’ve always dreamed of having a woman in my bed”, Mikey murmured against your thigh, his lips slowly making their way upwards, letting his tongue lick and his teeth nibble on the way. “Though I always thought that it would happen while I was a teenager, but life has its ways to surprise us”.

“Me too”, you breathed out, making Mikey look questionable at you, his lips still working their way closer to your core. “I used to dream about you when I was a teenager”.

Mikey let out a chuckle. It was almost a laugh. Your heart almost stopped at the sound. You had never thought that you would get to hear the mutant laugh. A chuckle? Sure. A laugh? Never.

“Is that so?”, Mikey smiled against your soft skin, feeling himself getting more daring. He could literally smell and see how his words affected you. The way you bite your lips with your pupils blown wide, and how your beautiful center started to cling around empty air. The thought of how you would cling around him, brought him dangerously close to dropping, making his churr sound as he spoke. “On my bed while I was gone? You’re a better girl than I thought, waiting patiently for me to come home”.

You sighed at his praise, feeling your heart flutter in your chest. This was already better than anything you could have made up in your mind. “Mikey”, you sighed, grabbing onto the sheet under you, breathing heavily at the close proximity of his lips to your flower.

“Is this how you’ve dreamed of me?”, he asked, before his tongue drew a line, all the way from the bottom of your core to the top, flicking your clit on the way.

“Mikey!”, you gasped in pleasure, your hands flying onto the arms around your legs.

“Not so loud, (Y/N)”, Mikey whispered against your mount. “We can’t let them hear us”.

You nodded, bringing an already shaking hand up to your mouth, before Mikey let his large tongue flick your clit once more, enjoying the feeling of how your thighs tensed in his grip. It was soon followed by another flick and yet another. It didn’t take long before you grabbed a hold of the front of your shirt, biting down on that instead of just covering your mouth with your bare hand. Mikey saw how that made your shirt rise further up, letting out a deep churr like moan against your clit. The vibration of one of your heels kicked against his shell, while a head flew to his bald head. Your head rolled back as Mikey started to suck on your clit, making your shirt rise even further. One of Mikey’s hands moved from your legs and up your side, until his hand was right on your breast. Your shirt rose over his two big knuckles, exposing your chest. You groaned against your shirt in satisfaction as Mikey’s gigantic hand started palming your breast, while his tongue and lips continued their work on your clit. Mikey hummed against your clit, finding the taste of your juices and sounds sweeter than honey. He wanted more.

With the hand of the thigh that Mikey’s arm was still wrapped around, he replaced his lips and tongue with his thumb on your clit, letting his tongue sneak down to your entrance. He growled at the sight of you squirming against him, his thumb rubbing circles on your bundles of nerves, while his tongue started exploring your insides. Your eyes fell shut as you threw your head to the side, your hips buckling against his face, and your small hand grabbing on to the one that was still groping your breast. You were close. Fuck, you were close. Your free leg over Mikey’s shoulder started to move frantically as you got closer, the other shaking against Mikey’s grip. He took in the sight of you. You red flushed face, your now messy hair, and the way your breast shook ever so slightly at each sudden move. Mikey started to grind himself against the mattress under him, getting himself closer to his drop, his tongue doing curled motions inside your warm walls, all while his thumb still assaulted your clit. That was when you started to grab onto him frantically. You were close, so fucking close for him. Mikey growled against you. He was going to get you there.

And then it happened. Your legs clamped around Mikey’s head as you came with a muffled scream that sounded like his name, and your legs spazzing over his shoulder. Mikey quickly retracted his hand from your chest, forcing your legs open with both his hands, licking up every last bit of your orgasm, every breath from him sounding like a groan. You puffed and panted, your hands forming fists around the sheets as Mikey rode out your high, until your legs finally started to relax under his hands.

Mikey sat up and started to undo his overalls. His moves were almost frantic as he undid his belt, followed by his straps, all while you laid there and watched him, still recovering from the earth shaking orgasm he had brought you, your now soaked shirt clinging to your collarbone. You once again started rubbing your thighs together, the sight of the undressing turtle making your heart pound.

“You like this, don’t you, (Y/N)?”, he growled with a smug smile, as he started to push the overalls down his body and down his muscular thighs. “Just like you used to dream of, huh?”

“Almost”, you smiled back, feeling yourself getting more mischievous, letting a hand slide down to your now overly sensitive clit. “It’s even better”.

The terrapin growled at the sight, shoving the rest of his clothes onto the floor, revealing himself before you in all of his naked glory. You marveled at the full sight of his toned body, feeling your body shiver with need once more. Mikey huffed before he grabbed a hold of your wrist, moving your fingers to his mouth, so he could suck off what little slick you had picked up on them. That alone caused you to let out a choked moan.

“No more self pleasure”, he said, before throwing your hand to the mattress, his hands finding the hem of your shirt. “Take this off and I’ll show you what’s even better”.

Whatever sound you made, it was enough to make Mikey chuckle as he watched you sit up to take off your shirt, leaving you fully naked in front of him. Once your shirt hit the floor he slowly crawled over you, his deep eyes watching you like a predator hunting a prey. Instictly you leaned backwards, slowly letting your back fall against the mattress, until Mikey had you lying fully onto the bed, with him positioned between your legs. You felt his breath across your face, his beak so close that you instinctively closed your eyes, your lips searching for his. His lips were rough yet soft, and moved against yours with ease. The kiss started out sweet, as if he hadn’t just fucked you dirty with his tongue. Your arms moved around his thick neck, your fingers tracing shapes on the back of his head, your legs curling around his thick thighs. Mikey’s hands moved to hold your close by the shoulders. It wasn’t until a soft moan escaped your lips that his large tongue dared to ask for entrance. And once entrance was granted, this got heated once again. Mikey started to grind his cloaca against your soaked flower, his lips swallowing every sound that came from your pretty mouth.

“Mikey”, you moaned against his lips, buckling your hips against him. “Please, Mikey. I want it”.

Mikey pulled from your lips and placed a sweet kiss on your cheek, before his eyes caught yours. “Tell me if it hurts”, he whispered, a sudden softness in his voice. In the short time you had known him, you had never heard Mikey be soft. “Tell me and I’ll stop”.

“I will”, you nodded, feeling a soft kiss against your lips, before his kisses started to move down your neck just by your ear. One of his hands moved between the two of you to his cloaca, where he pulled himself out with ease, before he slowly started dragging his head up and down your folds before he found your entrance. With even more kisses down your neck, he slowly pushed into your tight hole, groaning against your skin. You had to bite down onto his shoulder in order not to scream. He was so much bigger than you had thought he would be, stretching you out to the point where it was hard to tell the difference between pleasure and pain.

“You’re doing so great, (Y/N)”, Mikey groaned against your ear, almost making your eyes roll back just by the sound. Your arms hugged tighter unto him as he moved further in, making him groan by how tight your walls were hugging him. “Fuck”. You whimpered against him, adjusting to his size. Mikey brought a hand to your face, pulling back slightly so he could look at you. “So good. You’re doing so good, (Y/N)”, he said before placing a tender kiss on your lips.

“Please, Mikey”, you whimpered, nudging him with your leg. “Please move”.

Mikey answered you with another kiss, before letting his head drop back down to your ear. He ever so slowly started to pull out of you, before slowly pushing back in. You quickly hide your face against his broad shoulder once more, whimpering at the small wave of pleasure. Mikey listened closely to your muffled sounds at his slow speed, trying to find any signs of pain. But once he found none he slowly started speeding up.

“Shit”, he moaned against your ear, his thrust becoming harder. “You feel so good, (Y/N)”. Your hands clawed onto his shell, your sounds muffled by his rough skin against your mouth.

Mikey’s legs moved further apart, making it easier for him to move against you. With the bed starting to creak lightly under you, you prayed that neither your mother or sister would hear anything. Neither the way you whimpered against the mutant turtle, or the way he cursed and groaned against your ear, telling you how good you were. Michelangelo fucking you raw on his old childhood bed was not something they needed to know. But you would be lying if you said you hadn’t dreamed of this moment, ever since he was brought back down to the lair. And now you were enjoying the full force of his God-like thighs.

Mikey placed a hand over your mouth and pulled back, looking down at you with hungry yet mischievous eyes. “Is this what you’ve dreamed of?”, he asked, his hips continuing to drive into you, setting a new speed. “To be fucked like this but and old mutant?” You nodded frantically, wanting to scream against his hand. A bright smug smile grew on his lips, bringing a boyish charm you had never seen on him before. He almost looked 20 years younger. “You’re such a good girl, (Y/N). Tell me, who is fucking you this good?”

“You, Mikey!”, you whimpered against his hand, your head spinning at the second high that was starting to build in your lower region.

“You’re getting close, ain’t you, (Y/N)?” His hand moved from your mouth to your throat, making you fight to stay quiet. Your heart beating faster and faster as you got closer and closer to your second orgasm. “Who are you coming for, (Y/N)?”

And with that your second orgasm that night hit you like a brick wall. Your body spazzing and your head spinning, you let out a loud soar moan. “Mikey!” The said mutant roughly pulled you in for another hungry kiss, swallowing every sound as you came hard around him. His speed continued high, the bed creaking while he rode out your high. His thrusts started to become erratic against your still shaking body, before he too came, groaning your name out loud.

Mikey stayed upon you, as the both of you caught your breath. With one last kiss, he slowly pulled out of you, leaving the two of you with small noises of complaint by the lack of each other. He laid back on his shell, staring up at his old ceiling while catching his breath. He instinctively pulled you close with his big arm, letting you rest your head upon his shoulder. He knew he should leave. You had both been noisier than he had wished to be, and he feared what April would say if she found him cuddling with her freshly fucked daughter in his arms. But Mikey could not deny how nice it was to be laying there with you in his old room. Who would have thought that his teenage dream of having sex in his room actually would come true.

“So”, you smiled from his side. “Was this just like your dream of having a woman in your room?”

Mikey chuckled, pulling you even closer. “It was even better”.

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lyneyluv · 3 months

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⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ ．．． 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒎𝒆！

— diluc & childe (separate).

— fluff, suggestive. archon quest spoilers. implied relationship. alcohol consumption (childe). ajax's is extensively longer ..... sry :P

the two of you sit before the heart of a warm fire, speakers above playing sweet, smooth jazz melodies that flood your senses. whatever language the woman sings her cacophony of accidentals in, it seems to make the fire envelop you completely, leaning further into the man seated next to you.

diluc slowly rises from his spot next to you, lifting his arm from where it hung around your shoulder. standing before you, his hand traces down your arm and finds itself in the palm of your own as he intertwines his fingers with yours.

“come on,” he says in a hushed voice, nothing but warmth behind his gaze, “dance with me.”

you smile shyly under his frame and take his offer, prying yourself from the comfort of the plush couch to face your lover.

“‘luc, you know i have two left feet,” you huff out, almost too willingly giving in to his request.

he hums in response, his eyes lulling shut as his free hand finds your other and begins swaying along with the tempo surrounding you. he rests his head atop your own as you reel in the feeling of his breath against your scalp. you sway as the music continues with its piano and saxophone riffs, one song ending and another starting. you feel him smile against your hair before he removes himself from above you, taking your waist with his hand as he spins you in circles.

it’s intoxicating. you catch glimpses of his form when it comes into your view as you twirl around and around, the world seemingly stilling as you return to your place before him. your eyes rake over everything and all that he is: his broad shoulders, free from his heavy day coat, his chest adorning a simple white button-down rolled up at the sleeves, his hair cascading down his collarbones as it takes its best efforts to break free from the tie he haphazardly put it up with. you meet his vermillion eyes, a breath catching in your throat as you admire the stars that twinkle in his gaze.

suddenly, the track playing changes, switching to a more lively and upbeat song that lights up the room. a ghost of a laugh is lost on diluc’s tongue as you hop to turn the music up, the melodies getting impossibly louder as you pivot on your heels to sashay towards him, taking his hand and circling around him. the hit hats dance in your eyes as bursts of music play in the air around you. the essence of the song seeps into every pore on your skin as diluc’s scarred hands cup your jaw, his face coming so close your noses graze against one another. he drinks in the sight of you—the feeling of you—and sighs.

“you’re beautiful,” his eyes bore into yours as your arms snake around his torso, “i love you.”

．．．

childe never really plays music on his own, opting to listen only whenever you hit play. its not that he doesn't like it, he just can't seem to focus whenever there's something playing in the background. tonight was no different: the two of you were cleaning up the kitchen after a nice dinner when you decided it was too quiet, playing some easy listening jazz: specifically the kind you'd hear in a low-lit restaurant that serves food with way less sustenance on the plate than what you're paying for.

your hips sway as you spray and wipe the counters, gently humming along with a tune you've familiarized yourself with. your twirl around the wood floor, passing ajax every now and then as he catches you in the corner of his eye. the sultry sounds of the melodies passing through his senses compliments the half-empty bottle wine sitting on the countertop.

you pass him again but this time are stopped by his arm around your waist, pulling your back against his chest as he rocks back and forth with you. "what's got you so happy?" he questions as he hooks his chin around your shoulder, feathering light kisses down your neck, "was my cooking that good?" he teases. each peck leaves a searing hot train in their wake as a shiver runs through your spine.

you inhale, placing your hand in his hair as you play with the ginger tresses. "oh, absolutely," you exaggerate as you turn your head to kiss the corner of his mouth, "i have no idea what i'd do if i didn't have a beautiful boyfriend to cook for me so generously like you do."

you smile lovingly into his eyes as he turns your frame to face him, his hands staying on your body as they travel up and down your waist. "mm, right," he hums through a slight smirk and lays his forehead against yours.

looking up into and nearly getting lost in his endless ocean of a gaze, you place a kiss upon his lips and back away from him. his face instinctively chased your own before you spoke, "dance with me."

before he can even think of an answer, he follows you into the living room and takes your hand in his. looking up at you, he bows regally with and arm behind his back as he places a saccharine kiss upon your fingers—the ones he silently promises to soon decorate with a ring. his eyes shine as they catch the light radiating from the kitchen, crystal blue irises peering at you through his long lashes. he's stunning, you think, any thoughts you had running through your head haulting to a stop. dazzled and frozen in place by the prince of a man before you, you step into his arms.

it's nothing special; not a waltz nor tango, just the two of you swaying together in the dim light of your home. your head lays against his shoulder, drinking in as much of him as you humanly can within the constraints of staying awake. the wine in your system warms you from within and leaves a whirring buzz in your mind as you hold onto your grip of reality, ajax's hands roaming the expanse of your torso and the rhythm you fall into doing no good in helping your poor attempt of sanity.

you feel one of his hands coming up, lifting your chin to meet his eyes as you fall in love over and over again in the infinite depths of his gaze. his hand spans across your cheek as his thumb caresses it gently, eventually traveling down to press against your lips. his eyes flit between your features, from your eyes to the tip of your nose and down to your plush lips he traces with his finger. he reels in the way you feel within his grasp as the music playing becomes a soundtrack for the film of his love that plays before him, losing himself in his adoration as he finally leans in to indulge in you.

the kiss is searing hot as it mixes with the interchanging major and minor chords the piano plays surrounding you both. the singing continues above the saxophones and drums, yet all you can hear is the sweet melody of your shared embrace: birds chirping in jueyun karst, breeze whistling through the tall grass in windrise, the silence of the snow falling in snezhnaya, the glittering of the glowing grass in chinju forest—you hear it all through your shared embrace. the pace picks up as small gasps are heard over the music, ajax's hands finding their way underneath your shirt as they move across the expanse of your body leaving a lingering warmth in their path. your lips dance against one another in a sparkling duet as you feel yourself getting ever hotter from the invasion of your senses.

"jazz isn't so bad, hmm?" he chimes, smirking as he dips back into your lips.

©𝑙𝑦𝑛𝑒𝑦𝑙𝑢𝑣 ’24

#abrupt ending to both..... i started to bet bored 😭#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #childe #childe x reader #diluc fluff #childe fluff

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yaut-jaknowit · 9 months

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Challenge Day

Pairing: We'ar-ow (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 4039

Summary: After a night of rest, We'ar-ow drags you around her quarters. From a bath to rid yourself of that male's smell to getting food in your stomach, she ensures you taken care of. Rough in treatment, you are confused on what to feel. It doesn't matter. We'ar-ow takes you to the last place you want to be.

Author Note: Little warning, tiny bit of graphic content. Just bone breaking. I'm so glad everyone is loving on her. I'm planning of writing more for her and have a small plan drawn up already.

Ao3

Masterlist

A yawn broke your neutral expression. It was hard. To keep a façade up and hold back your anger for the situation. This was humiliating! This… why did everything have to change? Why so sudden? If you release your anger, said one wrong thing to We’ar-ow, you would think yourself dead. Said Yautja had rudely awaken you. It felt like you gained no sleep after waking up.

Coarse fingers wrapped around your wrist and pulled you from the room. At this point, you realized… We’ar-ow was speaking. Her deep, throaty voice was hard to understand in the first place. When your brain has barely had time to comprehend all that has happened just this morning, there was no room to understand what the Monarch was saying.

With a free hand, you rubbed at the crust in your eyes. Huh, must have cried in your sleep or something. Now, you were finally able to fully see where she was dragging you. Across the strange living room and towards a door you just realize existed. The metal door slides to the side to reveal a massive room.

No time was given to you. She had you by the arm and forced you into the bathroom attached to the bedroom. Almost similar to your ex-mate’s bathroom, the only true difference was color and size. The tub could easily hold four female Yautjas without discomfort. This is when you realized the tub was full and steaming water.

Worst than before, you were giving absolutely not time to reaction as the clothes you wore were shredded. Your mind didn’t have time to even produce a yelp as We’ar-ow shoved you into the in ground tub. Your arms batted the water in a frenzied panic at first. You surged through the surface to gasp for air.

Almost instantly, you whipped your head to glare daggers at her before the logical side of your mind stepped up. Shit. You became submissive, ready for her to punish you. But nothing, no words or hits came. You peeked your head up to find an amused expression painting her face. It took a lot not to scoff. Instead, you simmered down into the water to hide everything below your neck. You didn’t want her to see more than you could control.

This earned a chuff. We’ar-ow shook her head. “Oomans,” was muttered underneath her breath. She kept guard though, eyes not leaving your form. The gaze caused your skin to crawl. You stayed slightly crouched down, eyes focused on the water, while not moving.

A crackly scoffed broke the silence. “Wash.” Your brows crunched the skin between them. What? How? You turned your head this and that way. Just water. Nothing to wash yourself with. What did she expect to use?

“Did the buffoon teach you nothing? I will take great pleasure besting him today. Maybe I will take his head as well, hang it in your new room, pet.” We’ar-ow took the necessary steps forward till her toes hung over the edge of the in ground tub. Her knees bent to a crouch. The salmon pink Yautja used a hand to scoop water and poured it over your head.

Almost… intimate. An action your ex-mate could do in the privacy of the community showers when time allowed it. “The water will cleanse your skin, wash away that Paya-awful male’s scent from you. Wash,” she commanded once more. Now, you understood truly what she expected from you.

You mirrored her actions from before and let water run down my head. Then, your eyes flicked up to hers. Was that good enough? “More.” Nope. You sighed before gaining a great idea. You dunked yourself fully under the surface then waited a few seconds. Once you felt it was enough, you broke the surface again, albeit this time calmer, and glanced up. She nodded.

Good. As you about to move to slip out of the tub, you realized something. There wasn’t anything to cover up with. She had already embarrassed you enough by ripping off your clothing then throwing you in here! Anger simmered in your boiling blood. All of this far too overwhelming to deal with and no given time to comprehend the situation.

All of this was just humiliating to say in the least. You swallowed what leftover pride you could hold onto and peered up at her. “I need a-a towel,” you requested, eyes flickering around her form and looking everything besides her.

The Yautja was still crouched down, nowhere near your level, but close by. Without any pretense, a pink hand grasped at your bicep and hauled you out of the water. You yelped and struggled against her hold, legs and arms flailing wildly. We’ar-ow pinned your back swiftly to her chest, loose hand coming to firm encase your neck.

Untamed attempts to break free from her were thwarted the moment her hand held your life. One squeeze could end it all. She felt the way your throated bobbed with a heavy swallow. She was back to her full height now. The Yautja slightly bent forward to further press herself into your backside. “Good pet.” She took full pleasure in your reaction. Fuck.

From the tops of your vision, you see her pink, split tongue skirt over her lower jaw. “Better,” is all she says before she removes herself from your backside. That’s when you realized you’ve been holding your breath the entire time. It rushed out of you in one big breath.

A hand fixated itself on your bicep before tugging you along. All you could do was listen… like a good pet. She brought you over to a spot in the bathroom before releasing her hold then pushing a button on the wall. Warm gushes of air dried the water from your skin, pleasantly warm. All drops of water officially removed from your previously damp skin.

Surprises morphs over your face. Your ex-mate didn’t have this but being the Monarch of the ship gave you special privileges, you guessed. The shock was allowed to simmer. We’ar-ow held onto your bicep once more and practically dragged you over to her bedroom of sorts. Clothes were pulled onto your body without another word. She shoved you out.

Out the room you had been in, into a massive living room, and towards a kitchen. Scents of food, good food wafted up into your nose. Not only were you starving, you were dying for water. Your throat ached, scratchy and dry. It left you with a headache that pushed at the back of your eyes.

The Monarch was none-the-gentler as she pushed into the bar stool too big for you. You catch yourself on the counter’s edge with not a second to waste. “Consume,” the voice you’re coming to learn barked. Then, she was off, marching towards a room towards the opposite of the front door. The same room we just came from.

On the verge of glaring at her, you grunted lowly and plopped your behind down on the stool. That’s when you realized why she had said ‘consume’ earlier, and where that delicious smell was coming from.

Before you sat a plate of steaming food, food that you didn’t begin to understand what it was made from. Instantly, your stomach growled painfully. A heady reminder. You glanced over to the door We’ar-ow left through. It was closed. You couldn’t hear anything from this far away. But she was gone, out of sight.

You were finally able to take your first full breath without any anxiety to squeeze the air out of your lungs. Yet, in the back of your mind, you knew your guard couldn’t be put down. Not now, not ever. Then, you focused on the food. Nothing smelled off about it, nothing gave you any bad vibes about it. And, We’ar-ow hasn’t given you a reason not to trust her. But, this is the Monarch we are talking about. Someone you don’t know. You scowled but your stomach snarled with a hungry roar. Pain cramped through your abdomen. You’ve never been this hungry before. Your ex-mate never let you go without a meal once a day.

By God’s grace, you were starting to become dizzy from dehydration. You smacked your lips together. A clear glass of see-through liquid was just sitting there. Once more nothing seemingly wrong with it. How could you know though? You weren’t like these guys. You had no great senses that allowed you to smell things miles away or hearing that alerted you in the same fashion. A sigh sounded from your lips.

Fuck it. You grabbed the glass and gulped down the entire thing within seconds. A bunch of air sucked in as well which caused you to burp… quiet loudly as well whoops. Your head whipped over to the door mentioned before. No movement or sounds. Good.

Back to the plate. With a finger, you nudged the things that looked like meat. It was warm. Cooked. Your eyebrows jumped with surprise. What. Something in your chest warmed with a familiar heat. You were swift at stomping it out before it had a chance to grow. Fine. That was… nice of her to do that. You picked up the slab of cooked meat and tore a chunk from it. It was still quite warm in your hands, almost unbearable. You held up the smaller chunk to your nose and sniffed it.

To be honest, it smelled glorious. So well, flavored and thoroughly cooked. You couldn’t helped the tiniest of smiles to grace your clean face. Finally, you placed it into your mouth and chewed. From the lack of food for a day, you hummed with delight. Delicious.

Before long, you had the entire plate cleared of food. You couldn’t know when your next meal would be. You didn’t know how the Monarch will… take care of you. Everything had been flipped on its head and you didn’t know what’s going to happen. You slumped in your chair, doing everything in your body not to just sob again. Defeated.

Warm fingers pinched your chin harshly and pulled your body up, almost lifting you off of the chair. Your hands went to wrap around a pink wrist, eyes darting up to find We’ar-ow. A gasp tore at your throat. Fear flooded your body, eyes clenched shut, ready for her to just snap your neck… but that never happens.

“Head up, spine straight. Don’t coward like prey. You are my pet. My pet won’t be prey,” she ordered and kept your head up, level, like the way she told you before. You cracked open an eye. We’ar-ow is still looking at you with her orange piercing gaze. She leaned in closer than she’s ever before, spilt tongue tasting the air. The Monarch dipped her head in approval. “Better, but I will get rid of that male’s smell later. I have an important meeting to attend. Do you know what it is?”

Curses flew around your mind. Why did she have to talk with you or ask you questions that made you have to answer? You lowered your gaze then shook your head softly. She pinched your chin harder. “When I address you, answer, my pet.”

A pregnant pause filled the air before you took in a deep breath. “No,” your voice quiet in the kitchen, eyes anywhere besides her body. We’ar-ow lumbered closer, a mandible lifting.

“That male who dishonored you, my new pet. He’ll face me in a challenge. He will lose. He will. You are mine. And I will keep you.” You couldn’t help but shiver at her tone. It was like she was a hundred percent certain your ex-mate will not win against her. In all honesty, a large part of your mind said she was correct. Her confidence bled over to you, contagious like a cold.

You wanted nothing more to blurt out the same question as before: ‘why?’ But you believed she would answer the same way. Instead, you held your tongue.

“You’re coming with me. First though-“ We’ar-ow stepped back to put space between the two of you, hand slipping from your chin. “You need to look like my pet. Come.” We’ar-ow turned her body in the direction of the original room she left through. Yet, you froze, stuck in place, not daring to follow her.

She notices this but doesn’t stop. Only a hand came to wave you along. “Don’t make me tell you twice.” Despite the voice being low and grumbly, it wasn’t harsh, just a general commanding her battalion. A tone you listened to, fearing what would happen if you didn’t. Your head bowed as you hopped off of the chair. But the plate… It would be rude and disrespectful to leave it behind.

“Leave it.” Okay, that answers that. You jumped at her sudden voice then scrambled after her. All the while, you kept a heady space behind her.

The door opened up to her presence. It was on the verge of closing until you got closer. You stopped at the entrance to stare into the room.

Holy. Shit. You couldn’t believe how big it was in here. Gracious, highly decorated, skulls, furs, and bones. A hunter, through and through.

Some of the skulls, five to be exact, were… human. You shuttered. Your ex-mate was kind enough to hide away the ones he collected when you reacted, well, horribly. It was a reasonable way to act when you see your own kind’s skull mounted on someone you loved’s wall. You shuttered, body tensing, ready to bolt in pure panic.

We’ar-ow turned around to face you, a bored look on her face. “You done?” It was like she was expecting you to react this way. Something inside of you curled into a ball at the knowledge. “Follow.” We’ar-ow motions you to follow deeper into this… this hell hole, this nightmare filled room. A place that bones of your species decorated the walls. You rapidly shook your head side to side, feet taking a step back to bolt.

The Monarch wasn’t letting you go. A hand wrapped around your throat and lifted you enough to be on your toes. Your bare feet scrapped for hope to stand on something. But she keeps you like this and brings you close. “My pet does not run! My pet stands to face the fear and danger. I will have to train you, unlike that measly male. He did nothing, didn’t he?”

Through the blood rushing violently in your ears, you desperately nodded your head. Any way to convince her to drop you. All you could think about is her snapping your neck. She’s the Monarch. She didn’t have to give a reason on why. Plus, you were her pet.

“Words.”

“Yes! Yes, he-he did nothing.” An alien smirk graced her face again. Her hold on you released. You landed unsteadily on your feet and snapped your head up at the Monarch. She stared down at you, looking over her upper mandibles.

Before a chance to think was given, We’ar-ow turned around and gracefully crossed the room over to the open concept bathroom. Almost similar to your ex-mate’s room, the only true difference was color and size. The tub could easily hold four female Yautjas without discomfort. Her hand swiped at something from the sink and she marched back towards you.

The Yautja towered, truly you meant that, over you but she doesn’t kneel down to get a better view. Instead, We’ar-ow sat down on her haunches. It helped a ton. Yet, she was still a good head taller than you. Without missing a beat, whatever in her hands was transferred to your head. Warm metal skirted around your head, beads falling down to tap against your cheeks. It tickled at first but you stayed still as the female fussed.

After a solid minute, she dipped her head and stood abruptly. “It will have to do,” she stated and continued to peer down at you over her mandibles. For a moment, your mind supplied she was wanting something from you. Words.

“T-thank you,” you offered your appreciation. Honestly, you did value the fact on your second day here, the Monarch has gifted something to you. A deeper part of yourself felt horribly guilty. From your limited knowledge of their culture, females don’t gift things. That’s the job of the male, to woo over any mates for the season.

That appreciation was thrown back in your face. We’ar-ow scoffed then huffed. You flinched, hands and shoulders drawn. A hand engulfed your neck once more. This time, much gentler. Her thumb and claw stroked up the side of your throat… right over an artery. One move, meant or not, could end your life swiftly.

Her mandibles clicked in thought, but nothing the translator picked up. Then, the warmth was gone and her massive form glided around you. She headed towards the door with purpose. Like a lost puppy, you scrambled after her.

This would be a good step forward. Maybe it be in the right direction or not, you don’t know. We’ar-ow didn’t look back once as she guided you through the door of her room, down the elevator, or through the halls. Every step this hunk of muscle took was prideful but not in an egotistical way. Here you were, a meek human doing everything in your power to keep up without looking like a fool. At least your ex-mate slowed partially down for you. She did not care.

With the pace she led, the pair had made it to the designation in her mind quickly. You realized where this was. The sparring room. Many males were already on the mats, proving their worth in a fight. That’s when you smelled the heavy scent of pheromones. Overwhelming and shoved straight into your face. Your mind couldn’t decide if the feeling it caused was good or bad.

When the Monarch entered the room, all those who were in her presence stopped. Males who were fighting tooth and nail ripped away from each other to bow respectfully. Green blood making the mats slick for them. You trotted up to We’ar-ow to stand a couple of feet behind her.

Before you had a chance to get a step closer, a blur of orange raced across your vision. Pink entered the very next second. Your brain stuttered to comprehend all you just witnessed. To your right, the Monarch held a near bone breaking grip on an orange male’s wrist. Now, it caught up to you. The male was going to grab you.

Despite seeing the tension in We’ar-ow’s body, her face was neutral as she stared down at the meek, young male. No words were needed as she calmly snapped his forearm. You slapped a hand over your mouth before any noises could escape. Even though in the past, you’ve seen the brutality that made up the Yautjas at their core. To see it happen less than a foot away from you… to hear how his bones just splintered by this female. Your stomach felt queasy at the sight.

Like it never happened, We’ar-ow faced the majority of the crowd, eyes scanning carefully through the crowd. All eyes on the Monarch. Even other females watched her with rapture, as if waiting for We’ar-ow to do something.

That’s when you felt a burning gaze so familiar. Your shoulder scrunched up to hide away, as if that was possible. You didn’t even dare to look in that general direction. Your heart pounded like a hammer. Creeping, crawling feelings snaked up your spine to settled in the middle of your chest. Echoes of his words rang back like a broken record.

“Dwainet,” the Monarch’s voice rung out like a church bell. The room seemed to still at the call of him. No one dared to speak, let alone whisper their rumors. You slowly picked up your head now, to find his eyes looking at We’ar-ow. Fear. Fear in those eyes you used to peer into.

You don’t know why but the tiniest of a proudful grins raced over your face. To see the alien that broke your heart then smashed on it right in front of you almost wet himself made you almost grin. This must not be usual for the Monarch to call out a male. Or the look on her face was deadly. You couldn’t see what she looked like from behind her. You didn’t dare peek either.

We’ar-ow raised a hand. With a single finger, she called the Yautja to step up. From your spot, it looked like it took all of Dwainet’s will to take a step forward. Let alone the rest to stop a respectful distance from her. His eyes were no longer on her anymore, but they hadn’t settled on you either. The fright in his system the only thing driving him.

The Monarch began to circle around the small male, looking him over. Each step was strategical, purposefully placed. Dwainet stood there, stiller than a statue as the female looked him over. Despite this being mating season, the look in his eye told you he knew that’s not what this was about.

When she was behind him, Dwainet sent a deadly glare down at your pathetic form. Your chest tightened. Shit. Your whole body froze as he silently glowered. Nothing in your body would listen. All of your muscles tensed, ready to spring but not moving.

Nothing left We’ar-ow’s vision. She noticed the way you tensed once behind Dwainet. If it wasn’t for your gaze stuck on him, she would’ve believed it was due to her about to best the male. Instead, We’ar-ow snatched a handful of tresses and yanked him back. All of his attention returned to her. She watched as his face morphed from the intense pain of his tresses being roughly handled.

“I challenge you, Dwainet. When I win, your pet will be mine,” We’ar-ow laid out her plans in front of the male. You watched as his eyes widened, the way his spine tensed.

Harsh whispers rolled over the large group in the sparring room. The translator that sat behind your ear did nothing, unable to pick up a single word. All you could do was glance around the room to read people’s faces the best you could. If only you could hide away when many eyes were on you. You were the center of attention now, no longer ignored as a meek pet.

Dwainet made a noise similar to choking on air. “You can have it!” he gave in so easily. Your stiff posture immediately deflated like a balloon. ‘It.’ He called you an it. The fractured pieces that still held on officially fell away to the darkness.

In a fit of unchanneled rage, you marched over to the restrained male and used a hand to yank on his only lower mandible. We’ar-ow allowed him to be moved by you, still holding onto him firmly. She couldn’t help the sliver of a smirk gracing her mandibles at the sight.

“You will fight her. You will lose. You will be left to wallow in your failure, alone!” you spat, voice gaining volume with each word till your voice echoed in the sparring room. Blood rushing through your ears and heart pounding are all you hear for a few long moments.

All you’ve done came rushing back. Before having a chance to fret over the situation, We’ar-ow hauled the male away from you to the nearest mat. The two males that occupied it were swift in their retreat and stood at the sidelines now.

Some Yautjas held smirks on their face as they watched. Others couldn’t look away from you. The rest just watched in rapture at the sight before. Something they’ve never seen before. The Monarch fighting for claim on a pet. While said pet, yourself, just stood at the edge of the mat. Yautjas crowded you from behind, not too close though. Their bodies creating a wall of muscles and bone, not letting you take a single step away. Shit. You were trapped to watch the brutality of a female that wants you. The Monarch wants you.

But your heart was far too guarded now.

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