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sleepyconfusedpotato · 8 months

Note

I don't know if you ever received this ask or had this idea before but here goes nothing Since Ghost already met Jade's family, what if she meets his? ....angst material. Sorry not sorry.

Oh my God... Anon... You sparked something in me, and I cannot go to sleep now without posting this. Thank you so much for the idea.

(I think I'm gonna make a full on comic out of this, and I will make an art at some point for this fic, but let's use this lovely GIF of Ghost first)

She's The One

Jade meets Ghost's family.

Pairing : Simon “Ghost” Riley x Charlotte “Jade” Le Jardin (OC) Word Count : ~ 1.8k words Warning : Medium to heavy angst and mentions of death, but ends with a full on fluff because you know me mate I want Ghost to be happy ok.

Title and story inspired by the song 'She's The One' by Robbie Williams

"...How's your family, Simon?"

Jade asked Ghost. They had been having a small outing, which included watching the cinema together and going around the streetside shops to find new wardrobes for Ghost to wear. He initially thought that it was unnecessary, but as Jade insisted, he went anyway – as long as he could spend his off-duty time with her.

He'd met her parents, and though he was apprehensive about it at first, they turned out to be pleasant and strong people. It was such an unfamiliar feeling for him, to have a family to come home to, a supportive family and kind and can take care of their own. He's foreign to that concept.

Ghost just stayed silent to her question, his expression which was usually unreadable turned sorrowful, his eyes gazing down at the pavements they walked. She thought she should change the subject before Ghost muttered,

"You want to see them now?"

Jade opened her eyes wide in surprise, not expecting him to say anything about meeting his family this fast, and the way he said 'now'...

The woman knew Ghost wouldn't ask her that question if he was adamant as he was a straightforward person. And so, she answered, "Of course, if you don't mind it." He then proceeded to enter his car that was parked not far from where they just watched a movie in a cinema, not forgetting to open the passenger door for Jade beforehand.

They drove for a full 30 minutes of silence, save for the sound soft songs on the radio. As Ghost drove, Jade looked out the window and understood that they were going to a familiar place that she had passed by a few times in her life. He drove to the nearest available parking area, parking his car flawlessly before stopping the car engine, leaving the both of them in complete silence.

Jade felt the atmosphere around him grow heavy, his hands still on the steering wheel as if he was still pondering whether or not he wanted to get out of the car. He let out a soft sigh, took his keys and got out of the car. Jade got out of her own and looked at the surrounding area.

Cemetery.

The sun had disappeared behind the heavy grey clouds that constantly covered the England skies. Tiny drops of water had touched her cheek, in such a way it reflected Ghost's inner thoughts right now.

The man looked at her, "Over here." He walked with Jade following right behind him. After about 10 minutes of walking and treading through the tall grasses, Ghost stopped in front of a group of gravestones, four of them, which were placed more tightly together than the other. The grasses were tidily short, a sign that the keepers attended to these graves properly.

Jade then looked down, reading the engravings on the stones, and her heart shattered to pieces.

"Susan Riley, November 17th, 1965 - December 24th, 2017"

"Thomas Riley, July 21st, 1990 - December 24th, 2017"

"Elizabeth Riley, May 8th, 1991 - December 24th, 2017"

"Joseph Riley, March 19th, 2013 - December 24th, 2017"

It was his mother's birthday.

She looked up to find Ghost's eyes gazing down at the names as well, noticing that the ground he was standing on was right at the front of his mother's grave. No tears in sight, only sadness, and as an MI6 agent of two decades, she could deduce an expression of regret. Jade didn't need to wonder why, as the dates of their deaths were all the same - the reason he hid his identity, lived as no one, avoided any relationship with anyone, and the reason why he was adamant about meeting her parents – His past came to haunt, and it's target was not him.

Jade couldn't say anything. What could she say? That she's sorry this happened? She knew Ghost hated that phrase the most, of someone pitying him, that they wished things could be different. But what use is it to wish? It happened. His entire family died because something happened during one of his missions, and his family paid the price for it.

As if on cue, she heard a small sniff from him the same second the raindrops started to grow more frequent, falling harder, creating white noises and wet spots on their clothes. Being the Londoner she was, knowing that sunny days were never really sunny, Jade fished out her floral purple umbrella, holding it above Ghost's head beside her, making sure to cover his broad shoulders fully as her left shoulder grew wet.

She saw his face, and it was enough reason to stay silent and let him grieve. She didn't know if this was the first time he'd visited their graves after years or if he always come here at some time every year, but no matter which one the answer was, if she could see one thing, it was that his tears never seemed to run out after more than a decade.

Jade let him cry, the sound of his sobs completely drowned by the white noises of the heavy rain.

She knew that he wasn't much for any physical touch, nonetheless, she lifted her other hand softly and rubbed at his back, going up and down in an attempt to soothe his sorrow. And after a minute of him not flinching away from her touch, Jade mustered up her will to slowly encircle her arm around his own on his side, their sides touching as she rubbed his bicep, and going even further as she leaned her head to touch his shoulder.

Ghost's shoulder still shook for a few minutes as he cried his heart out, Jade kept doing what she did as he let his sorrow out.

Soon after, another surprise hit her when she heard and saw that the rain started to slow down, albeit still going down on both of them. Her other arm started to grow sore after moments of holding the umbrella high to accommodate his height, yet what alleviated the pain was the fact that she felt a small weight on her head, realizing that Ghost had eased his cries, now only soft sniffs, and that he leaned his head on top of hers as well.

He still stayed silent, not a word spoken ever since they arrived, but she knew that this was a good sign that he knew that she would be there for him, even when he was vulnerable.

"Happy birthday, Mrs. Riley."

Jade muttered softly, the man beside her still looking down on his mother's grave even though he was slightly dazed at her words.

"This is our first meeting, but I can tell that you were a kind person, and an even more amazing mother and grandmother."

He then glanced at Jade as she continued, "Your son is a very skilled and intelligent man, traits which I assume he got from you. He's confident, a great leader-- oh! And he's handsome as well, so that's a plus."

That prompted a scoff out of his mouth. Nevertheless, she went on. "He's not much of a social person. He's a little bit intense and stiff - We can work on that. He shot my hand once! I have the scar to prove it. His choices of words are sometimes foul, though, again, we could always work on that." Jade joked lightheartedly, seeing him softly smile above her.

"But if there's one thing about him that I love, is that he's a strong man with a warm heart, and I don't have to assume to know that he got it from you." Jade continued. "Your son is the strongest man I know, and I will stop at nothing to protect him and make him happy."

Ghost looked down at her, astounded at her words. "Thank you for bringing him into this world. Happy birthday, Mrs. Riley."

As she finished her message, Jade looked up with a soft smile, "I'll be sure to bring some flowers the next time we visit, and every year after that."

She thought he was going to say something, until the arm that was intertwined with hers moved, though nervously, gliding across her back and found its home on Jade's shoulder, before lightly pressing and pulling her towards him. Jade blushed, not only at the warmth of his body but also at the fact that he initiated the touch.

"Thank you, Lottie." He muttered in his deep voice, "So much."

"Anytime, Love."

After about 15 minutes of standing in front of the graves, the rain had stopped, and the sun showed up to light the rest of the day as the sky turned orange. Jade had stored the wet umbrella back in its container and hung it on her wrist before she walked back to the car per his request. Jade figured he wanted some alone time with his family, and so she obliged.

"How's she, Mum? She's a beautiful bird, isn't she?"

Ghost finally spoke, his hands tucked inside his pockets. He then glanced at his brother's grave, smirking. "What about you, Tommy? You think she's the one?" He asked no one, not expecting any answer anyway, yet he just wanted to let it out.

"I thought I'm gonna bite the dust on some fucking rathole somewhere, and that was what I wished at some point, but..." Ghost sighed, shifting his weight on his hip, "I kind of want to die an old man, after living my life to the fullest with her-- Fuck, I can't believe I'm saying this." Ghost chuckled at his own words, not expecting it to be this heartfelt. "I'm arse over tit for her. Yeah, you're gonna laugh at me for this Tommy, but at least I didn't laugh when you said the same thing about Beth."

"And Mum, knowing you, I think you'd like her. She's a bit like you, in a way." Ghost confessed, still eyeing her name on her gravestone, "She cares too much. In a good way, and I find it endearing." He suddenly recalled the memories he had with Jade, from the first moment they met to this moment, replaying them over and over and being surprised about how much she reminded him of his mother.

"I want to protect her with all my life. I love her, Mum."

And with that, a burden on his shoulders felt like no more. He'd never said those words to anyone, and he might be insane to be in love with someone considering how he'd lived his life, but he'd made a promise to protect her, and if he'd be a fool, then a fool he would become.

"Anyway, she's waiting back there, and I'm hungry. So I'm going to leave you now." Ghost then stood up straight, his hands still in his pockets. He glanced at every single one of the gravestones, before looking at his mother's.

"Happy birthday, Mum."

-----

(All of the Riley's birthdays are entirely made-up. Their date of death was also made up, but I remembered there were something with Christmas, so I'll just place December 24th to make my heart hurt more) ಥ_ಥ

Anyway, thank you for reading, and hope you love this! (❁´◡`❁)

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw #cod #simon ghost riley #cod mw22 #sleepy answers #call of duty modern warfare 2022 #charlotte jade le jardin #call of duty oc #ghost x oc #ghost x jade #simon ghost riley fic #simon riley #call of duty fic #call of duty mw2 #angst #tw angst #tw death

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runa-falls · 10 months

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hi runa happy 3k! can you write something based on the lyric "i know who you pretend I am" from washing machine heart with mig?

cw: smut (18+), ANGST, divorcee!miguel au, toxic relationship, hurt/no comfort, sad :(, unprotected piv sex, afab!reader, creampie, no kissing/barely any foreplay

---

miguel: come over

you've gotten used to waking up to the chime of your phone in the middle of the night. in fact, your body has started to wake itself up, just in case he texts.

it's pathetic how desperate you are for his attention, to be his call girl for his rough days. it's even more pathetic how ready your body is once you see his name.

you swipe open your phone, eyes squinting against the bright screen. a string of 'come over's stare back at you tauntingly.

you: ok

it's not like you live close to him, you have to take the train to get to his neighborhood then walk a few blocks to get to his house. he never comes over to yours, barely even talks to you in the daylight, but you've never complained. you've never denied him.

---

you fiddle with your jacket sleeve as you wait for him to let you in. the whole walk there was miserably cold and you curse yourself for going out in your pajama shorts instead of changing into something warm.

it's been a while since you've seen him. the last few weeks, there's been radio silence from his end (not that you've every talked a lot before anyway).

you wonder why he keeps calling you back, why he doesn't try to find someone else and settle down with them. why he doesn't settle down with you...

the door opens swiftly, revealing a dark house behind the familiar stoic face that you dream about every night. he doesn't say anything, just gesture for you to come in by moving to the side.

"com'ere, honey" he sits on his favorite arm chair, the one to the side of the couch, and pats his lap condescendingly. he never calls you by your name, just pet names.

honey, sweetheart, baby. somehow, the sweeter the name, the more it hurts. you take off you jacket and hang it by the door, and then walk over to him to perch yourself on his thigh.

long fingers wrap around your jaw and force you to look at him. his eyes are dull, staring at you vacantly as he decides what to do with you.

his cologne fills your senses as you're pulled in closer, your chest pressed flush against his. you sigh as warm lips hover gently over your jaw before meeting the side of your neck.

he kisses you there, slowly, eyes closed as he trails his lips downwards toward your shoulder. your shirt is pulled off with care and discarded to the side, and miguel continues his descent down your body.

you don't know how he does it, how he can make you feel so wanted in the moment. it's addictive. he treats you like you're his then throws you on his doorstep when he's done.

he captures a nipple into his mouth, tenderly suckling the bud until it's nice and wet. you whimper when he pulls too hard, but he won't stop.

your back arches at the intensity, inevitably pushing your tits closer to his face. he does the same to the other nipple before flicking it with his tongue and blowing on it teasingly.

he pulls away and shifts under you. you can feel him, his cock juts against your inner thigh. he makes you sit up so he can pull his cock out and stroke himself a few times.

miguel doesn't bother to take your shorts off, merely shoves them to the side before pulling you to sit on top of him.

if it were anyone else, you wouldn't be ready yet, but he hasn't even touched you there and you're soaking wet.

his tip slides against your slick pussy, thoroughly lubricating his shaft until he's soaked in you. he doesn't waste time as he nudges against your dripping hole, slowly pressing in until he's filling you up completely.

"f-fuck, mig--" you're cut off by a hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to shut you up.

"don't talk." his voice is dark, but it still sounds like he's holding himself back. "just sit there and let me use your cunt, sweetheart. i don't need any commentary." his jaw is clenched as he begins to snap his hips harshly against yours.

you grab onto his arm as he continues to hold you by the neck, needing some support as he fucks you roughly from below. his eyes are locked on your body as he disappears into you again and again, never meeting your gaze.

he stretches you so completely, sliding against every sensitive nerve inside of you with delicious precision. you swear you're seeing stars when he pushes your body away from his, forcing your into another position that angles his cock right against your g-spot.

you gush with slick as you're rushed to the edge, moaning helplessly as everything builds so quickly. miguel groans deeply as your pussy flutters around him and you're cumming before you know it.

you look down at him through bleary eyes as your body spasms with bouts of pleasure, wanting him to look at you when he makes you cum. he doesn't.

his eyes are shut as his thrusts falter and his breaths stutter. his hands drop down and squeeze your waist as finishes inside. “f-fuck, baby–yeah”, his head is tilted up, baring his glistening neck for you, flushed in ecstasy.

his eyes are still closed when he lifts you off of him and sets you back on his lap, body leaned back as he recovers. when he finally opens his crimson eyes, he sighs discontentedly and looks at you. you want to curl up when you see that expression. his disappointment that you're not her.

you feel messy under your shorts, his cum still leaking from your cunt. the warmth drips and seeps through the fabric and is probably all over his pants now.

"you can use the shower if you want." you can tell he's waiting for you to get off of him.

"i'm ok. thanks though." you slip off his lap and search for your shirt. it lays crumpled on the floor next to the chair. you slip it on, suddenly very cold and aware of your bare body in front of his clothed one.

"ok," he pulls his pants back up and gets up from the arm chair, "you know where the door is."

you smooth down the wrinkles in the shirt and ignore the knot in your throat and the sting in your eye.

"yep."

you quickly make sure you have everything, slip on your coat, and walk out into the cool night without looking back.

you refuse to watch him leave you again.

#anon #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara smut #angst #em's 123 celebration

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harrysdaydreams · 10 months

Text

Unsatiated

Summary- Reader finds herself in a low place and has shut out the one person she should know wants to help more than anything. Harry is more than happy to take care of her regardless, which leads to revelations on both parts

Slight angst that ends with fluff that turns suggestive

-Harrys hands gently tug at the hair tie that is somehow still hanging loosely in your hair, letting the tangled strands fall against your back.

He lets out a low whistle, to which you nudge him in the ribs with your elbow causing him to laugh quietly as he tries to separate the matted sections of your hair.

His fingers are soft and careful with your strands, and his use of the brush is even gentler, taking his time to properly ensure every piece of hair is free from knots. The delicate touch of his fingers brushing the back of your neck causes you to let out a gentle sigh, and you unintentionally sink back into his touch.

Word count- 4.3k

Tuesday. Even the word itself sounded mundane and miserable. Throw in some grey skies accompanied by pouring rain, it was a recipe for a shitty day.

Normally you’d crack open a window, light a candle and bask in the fresh sounds of the raindrops hitting the floor of the balcony to your flat.

But it was more than a bad day- the past week you’d been feeling at your lowest, with no real pinpoint as to why. It was hard to find motivation for anything, cooking a nice meal, going outside, reaching out to your friends- several who had messages in your phone left unread- it all just seemed too much.

So here you lay in bed at 1pm, the same place you’d been all day, minus bathroom trips and the tremendous effort it had seemed to have taken to make some instant noodles that still sat on your nightstand uneaten.

You turn over onto your front and sigh into your pillow, having lost count of how many times you’d done the same thing all morning.

Why did everything feel so heavy? This isn’t how you usually responded to feeling low, always opting for surrounding yourself with the people you knew could lift you out of any place, no matter the situation.

Being with people now was the last thing you wanted, especially in your home, with piles of laundry waiting to be washed and dishes to be cleaned.

Uncomfortable on your front, you opt to turn back onto your side, reaching for your phone on the nightstand with the intention of putting on some music to drown out the rain. Hopefully you’d find something that could pull you out of your mood- that or something that further fuelled your angsty state and could maybe push you to finally release the pent-up tears you were too frustrated to shed.

As you scroll through your playlists contemplating what tone to set as you continue rotting in bed for the rest of the day, a text notification pops at the top of your phone.

Harry.

You assume he’s probably double texting you with some sort of snarky message for not replying to your beloved best friend for over two days. Your heart sinks a little as you think of him, his contagious smile and warm personality.

You miss him, and thinking of him is enough to momentarily make you smile as you pull down the notification to read the contents of his message.

Harry- You really gonna leave all four of my messages on delivered? I’m hurt Bitsy, deeply hurt.

You smile at his obvious sarcasm and the stupid nickname he came up with 4 years ago after finding out you were exactly one year, one month and one day apart in age, him being the eldest. He played on the fact that you’re younger than him and ran away with it completely, always making jokes of how small and ‘young’ you are.

Another text notification brings you back from your reminiscing, a new message directly under the one you’d just read.

Harry- Really though, are you ok? The radio silence isn’t normal for you.

Your heart sinks again and you feel bad for leaving your closest friend worrying about you.

Harry- Usually I have to mute our text thread just for some peace..

For the first time in days, you laugh out loud, a genuine smile spreading on your face that crinkles the corner of your eyes.

You- Uhh, RUDE!

Harry- Ahhh she lives!

Fuck, the way he can change your sour demeanour in just a few short messages. You instantly feel stupid for shutting everyone out, especially him.

You- Alive and kickin’! Specifically, your ass for being so rude. I’m okay though, promise old man. Sorry if I made you worry!

Harry- I’ll await my ass kicking whilst shaking in fear. Miss you though. Want me to come over? We missed pizza night on Sunday because someone... lost her phone? Fell off the face of the earth?

The suggestion of him coming over fills you with dread and takes away all of the momentary relief and lift in mood you’d felt just from texting with him.

You could pretend you were okay to a degree over text, but if he came over, he’d take one look at you, or around your flat and know something was wrong. And you wouldn’t even be able to give him a definitive answer why.

You tap the back of your phone with your nails anxiously trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t make him worry more, seeing as you rarely turned down an opportunity to hang out together.

You- Miss you too, H. Raincheck? I feel a migraine coming on. Love you!

Harry- Love you too, Bitsy. Feel better

Feeling guilty, you lock your phone and place it back on the nightstand and try to ignore the new ache in your chest.

Despite your efforts, you scrunch your eyes closed and finally feel the hot sting of tears trail slowly down your cheeks.

You feel terrible for lying to your closest friend, the catalyst to finally unleashing the breakdown that had been sitting inside of you for the past few days as nothing but frustration and restlessness.

Now though, full blown sobs wreck your body as you hug your pillow whilst simultaneously burying your face into it, muffling the sound of your whimpering. You lay like that for a while, your chest rising and falling with every whine and sorry moan.

Finally, you take a series of deep inhales and long exhales to steady your breathing in a vain attempt to calm down.

What the fuck is wrong with me? you think as you wipe the leftover tears from your cheeks, sitting up against the headboard of your bed.

You take a long sip of water from your nightstand to wash away the disgusting taste left in your mouth from your dramatic sobbing.

The ache in your chest feels duller and somewhat lighter after releasing the supressed tears that had previously left you feeling so suffocated.

Now though, the lesser anguish in your chest brings your attention to a new source of pain in your neck, and you curse yourself mentally for laying in bed all day to the point it resulted in making your body sore.

After giving in to the fact you really should move, you stretch your arms above your head and then lift away the duvet from your body, swinging your legs over the side of the bed to sit up properly before sliding on your slippers sat on the floor beside you.

As you go to stand up, you hear a key in the lock of your door and your heart jumps into your throat. You listen for moment longer as the hairs on the back of your neck stand up before realisation dawns on you.

“That fucker!” you whisper, discarding your slippers and leaping back under the duvet to feign being asleep.

Harry was the only person you’d ever given a spare key, so you could only assume his kind natured, stupid, perfect self, had gone out to buy you supplies to get you through your migraine and come to check on you. You should have known better than to lie to him about being sick.

The sound of the door softly closing tells you he’s now inside the flat, followed by him gently calling out your name. You squeeze your eyes shut tighter as your heart beats fast in your chest, trying helplessly to ignore your panic and relax your body in the hope to pass off as being genuinely asleep.

He knocks lightly on your bedroom door which is already propped open with a doorstop, and you hear the rustling of a bag that must contain the supplies he so thoughtfully brought to you. Your eyes sting with tears again, why does he have to be so good?

“Hey love, I’ve brought you some strong ass painkillers and some anti-sickness tablets. How are you feeling?” he asks in a quiet voice; you can detect concern in his tone and that alone makes you want to cry all over again.

You’re in half a mind to ignore him and pretend you’re in a deep sleep so he’ll leave but with the knowledge that he’s right there... that he’s in reach and he could hold you… maybe he could make it okay.

You breathe a shaky sigh and reluctantly open your eyes and sit up, sliding back against the headboard again as you look at him, a new kind of concern immediately washing over his features.

He rushes over to perch on the bed beside you, his pretty face painted with worry as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’ve been crying... is it that bad? Or...” he trails off, looking between your red, puffy eyes as if doing so would decode what was wrong. “Love, what is it? Talk to me”

He can see through your lie now, something you never do, which fills his own heart with heaviness. Ignoring the sting of knowing you lied to him, he awaits your answer, knowing not to press you if something was so wrong to the point you felt the need to mislead him.

So, he doesn’t prompt and push, instead he rubs your shoulder softly as he waits for a reply, his soft green eyes on yours, hopeful you’ll meet his gaze.

“M’not good, Har” you reply shakily, biting your lip to keep it from quivering because the last thing you wanted was to become a sobbing mess in front of him. You shake your head as you continue to look down, more damned tears dropping into your lap despite you willing them to stay away, your finger now absently trailing the wet droplets they leave on your leg.

“Hey, hey look at me.. look at me” he soothes gently, both of his hands now on your shoulders urging you to lift your head to meet his gaze again. You do so reluctantly, and he lifts one hand to cup your face and brush away the hot tears on your cheek.

He offers you a pained smile, one that clearly shows his care for you, but the warmth in his eyes as he scans over your face pushes you to wrap your arms around him, gentle sobs immediately leaving your body again.

He pulls you gladly into a tight hug as his hand reaches up to the back of your head and moves in soft strokes over your hair as you breathe in the scent that is so Harry, so... home.

His eyebrows knit together in response to the twist in his heart upon hearing you cry, feeling your body shake softly as the tears escape. He continues his soft stroking to the back of your head, wanting so badly to take whatever it is away, to make everything better.

“Shhh, I got you. M’not going anywhere. I got you” he soothes, squeezing his own eyes shut to try pull himself together so he can be there for you how you need him. “Wanna talk about it?” he asks, his voice soft in your ear and his hold on you still tight.

You shake your head as much as you can in his vice like grip.

“Wouldn’t even know what to say. Truly. I don’t know why I’m in such a rut.” you say honestly between sniffles. That was the most frustrating thing about the past week. There was no trigger, no cause.

Foolishly you shut yourself away, the answer to your problem being so obvious now you were in his company- in his arms. Your eyes prick again at the thought, that dull throb in your chest again making itself present.

“Feel better because you’re with me though- I shouldn’t have lied to you- I should’ve let you- shouldn’t have told you- I-” your rambling is cut off by Harry quietly shushing you and resuming his careful stroking of your hair. God, how does he make everything okay?

“Shh, I get it, s’okay… it’s okay. I got you, yeah? M’right here, always right here” he coos in your ear, and you nod your head fervently because of course you know.

Right here felt like the only place on earth. The best place on earth.

You both remain in silence like that for a while longer until Harry slowly pulls himself away from you, leaning back but keeping his hand firmly on your thigh, making a point of keeping some physical contact with you.

At last, you finally look at him properly, smiling awkwardly, a smile that he returns with that boyish, one-sided smirk of his that you’ve grown to love so much.

The comfortable silence between you both is complimented by the rain still hammering down outside.

You turn your head to glance out of the window at the thick droplets bouncing off the glass, then turn back to Harry, who has an amused expression on his face.

He’s the one giving you an awkward smile now, to which you return a puzzled look.

“What?” you ask suspiciously.

He brings his hand up to cover his smile, which is growing bigger by the second. He’s clearly trying not to laugh, but refusing to let you in on the joke, so you poke his ribs to further prompt him to answer.

“S’nothing” he laughs, to which you raise an eyebrow disbelievingly, causing him to laugh again.

You cross your arms whilst feigning an annoyed look, stubbornly waiting for him to kindly share whatever it is that he’s seemingly finding so funny.

“It’s just uhh, when- when was the last time you brushed your hair?” he asks sheepishly, clearly not wanting to embarrass you but finding your lack of effort appearance wise humorous.

Your hand instantly lifts to the messy bun that had initially been propped on the top of your head two days ago. By now it was hanging low at the back of your head, probably a matted mess.

You groan and hit him softly with the pillow behind you, and he raises his arms to defend himself, resuming his laughter as a reluctant smile makes its way onto your face.

“I mean, you look great, but uhh, hairbrushes… great inventions” he taunts, but you can hear his smile so clearly in his voice that it sends warmth through your chest.

“Funny.” you quip, kicking his knee with your socked foot. “please, continue making fun of my misery” you joke, and he holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“Okay, okay, I take it back” he laughs musically, and you purse your lips in a bashful pout, eyeing him fondly as he readjusts his position on the bed to sit cross legged in front of you.

The comfortable silence resumes, Harrys fingers absentmindedly rubbing soothing circles at your ankle.

“Seriously though, want me to brush your hair?” he asks, your heart fluttering at the gesture.

Honestly, the idea of having to brush your hair over the past two days was a task that had seemed entirely overwhelming, hence the state of your bun. And now that it was probably a matted mess, it was a job you were happy to give to someone else- someone who seemed to understand entirely instead of sitting here judging you.

You look down at your hands in your lap, half embarrassed before nodding your head.

“If you don’t mind.. thank you, H” you reply, giving him a grateful smile.

He returns it knowingly, standing to grab the hairbrush from your vanity and sitting back down. He motions with his hand for you to turn around with your back to him, which you do so obediently, feeling pre-emptively better knowing one basic self-care need was being taken care of.

Harrys hands gently tug at the hair tie that is somehow still hanging loosely in your hair, letting the tangled strands fall against your back.

He lets out a low whistle, to which you nudge him in the ribs with your elbow causing him to laugh quietly as he tries to separate the matted sections of your hair.

By the time Harry has completely detangled your hair you’re pressed flush against his back, not noticing he’d finished as he continues to stroke and run his hands through your hair. He observes you warmly, noting how your eyes have softly closed and your breathing has shallowed.

As much as Harry was loving the entire situation, mainly the fact he’d seemingly managed to calm you down and help you relax, his legs were going numb as hell and he needed to move you from your position that had you practically seated in his lap.

With a small squeeze to your shoulder, he breathes gently in your ear “M’done love. All done.”

You open your eyes, not even realising they’d closed, running your hand through your hair and revelling in how soft the stands now felt. You move away from Harry rather reluctantly, turning back to face him as he stands up from the bed.

“Thank you, Har. I- honestly I feel so much better, really.. thank you” you smile gratefully, your heart warm in your chest and full of such tenderness for your best friend.

You would never get over how truly wonderful he is.

“S’nothing, promise. I like helping you relax. Makes me feel good too” he confesses, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

You both exchange a look of fondness for each other, your eyes locking for an extended period of time. The exchange is warm, with a weight that is full of unsaid things but it’s also a look that needs no words- you both have a profound care for each other, that much has always been clear, but the longer you’re looking at him, the more your own gaze becomes one of longing.

Harry notices it too, his own eyes seeming to look deeper into yours as the warmth in them turns to something more heated.

You see it, you feel it, its thick in the air and you have to look away.

In return, Harry drops his eyes from your face and clears his throat as he fumbles with the hairbrush still in his hand.

He reaches to put it on the nightstand next to your forgotten pot of instant noodles which he picks up with a sigh. The mood instantly shifts back into one of playful friendliness as he holds them out to you with one eyebrow raised.

“This is what you’ve been eating?” he asks. “or not eating I should say. No wonder you’re so depressed” he jokes before walking out of the bedroom and into the open plan kitchen-living room, instant noodles in hand.

With him out of the room you place your head in your hands trying to calm down your thoughts and steady your heart rate. When did it start beating so quickly?

You’re brought out of your thoughts before you can even begin to overthink the look you’d both shared by the sound of the tap running from the bathroom down the hall from your room.

You step out of your bed and walk towards the source of the noise and are greeted by the sight of Harry running you a bath.

He notices you standing in the doorway and gives you a soft smile before walking over to you and gripping the sides of your arms gently.

“I’m gonna go get some real food while you take a bath, okay? I wont be long” he promises, pressing a parting kiss to your cheek before leaving, your heart quickening and heat rushing to your face.

You watch after him mindlessly, your fingers lifting to the spot he’d just kissed so casually, the feeling of his lips still lingering beneath your touch.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment, your hearing dulled, and sense of touch heightened, before a panicked instinct to check the running taps pulls you from your yearning trance.

You turn them off quickly, before removing your clothing and sinking into the soothing warmth of the water and willing it to wash you of these muddled feelings and flustered responses to Harry’s demeanour and affections.

You urge yourself not to overthink his kiss to your cheek, remembering all the times he’d kissed the top of your head whilst hugging you goodbye, usually always followed with some kind of joke about how he can only reach the top of your head so easily because you’re so much smaller than him.

“See ya later Bitsy” you recall his voice and think of how most of those situations ended. Warm but only friendly.

You sink beneath the water to wet your hair, dragging your hands over your face to wash away the grime from your face and along with it any thoughts of Harrys kiss being anything more than a friendly parting.

What you refuse to fully acknowledge is the way your heart leaps at the idea of it being more.

You finish bathing, before wrapping yourself in a towel, feeling so much better for being forced into taking care of yourself.

By the time you’re dressed in a fresh set of pyjama shorts and an oversized t-shirt, you leave your room to see Harry dishing up the food he left to retrieve.

He looks up from portioning a steaming bowl of ramen and gives you a warm, happy smile.

“You look like you’re feeling a little better?” he asks hopefully, to which you nod, returning his smile shyly.

“Much better, thank you. Mmmh, food smells amazing.” You sigh, reaching to grab the bowl he holds out for you before sitting side by side on the sofa.

You eat together in a relaxed silence, one that offers tender glances at each other and periodic laughs as you both try hopelessly to eat ramen noodles gracefully.

Harry finishes first, and you follow not far behind him before setting your bowl on the coffee table in front of you both.

You feel his eyes, on you but can’t force yourself to move your eyes from your hands in your lap. The silence suddenly feels heavy, you don’t even have to look at him to know his stare holds so much weight.

Its impossible to ignore. You feel it.

Your stomach is fluttering under his gaze and your mind is racing.

In an attempt to take the newly tense and awkward edge out of the silence that had now settled, you clear your throat, but it only draws attention to the tension that hangs thick in the air between you both.

You chance a look at him, his green eyes fixed on you with an expression you can’t read.

“Stop it” you whisper, not chancing your voice cracking.

His face is soft, but his brow is tense, his eye contact unwavering.

“Stop what?” he speaks softly.

You inhale slowly, your eyes closing before releasing a shaky exhale.

“Stop looking at me like that. I don’t know what it means” you say.

He leans closer, only slightly, but the growing intimacy of your proximity is enough to quicken your heart rate all over again.

“Looking at you like what, love?” he feigns innocence, his expression still just as achingly warm.

You can barely bring yourself to answer, still trying to convince yourself you must be misreading the entire situation, that he can’t be looking at you with this intense desire, so gently, so.. so..

“Longingly...” you whisper.

His expression softens, his eyes leaving yours to delicately trail over the features of your face, a soft sigh leaving his mouth as his focus stops at your lips before cupping his hand at your cheek.

“I can’t, love. Because I can’t tell you how long I have longed for this.” he whispers.

Your eyes shut tight at his confession, that familiar warmth radiating through your whole chest as the entire world seems to stop spinning again.

When you open your eyes, they threaten to spill over with tears, and Harry knowingly caresses the side of your cheek with his thumb.

You can’t breathe.

“Me too” you utter almost silently.

Your admission sparks the most beautiful, genuine smile you’ve ever seen Harry wear, and he touches his forehead to yours with his hand gently cradling the back of your head.

“Well, thank fuck for that” he jokes, and you laugh breathily before pulling back to finally meet his eyes with a new confidence.

He looks between each of your eyes before refocusing his gaze on your lips. Before you can even acknowledge the excitement blooming in your chest, his mouth is on yours.

And it’s soft. It’s slow. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

He pulls you into his lap and deepens the kiss, causing you to whimper into his mouth as your hands fist into his t-shirt, desperately trying to anchor yourself to him, not wanting to lose him now that you finally have him.

His hand moves from the back of your head, trailing down your back to gently cup your ass, your core clenching in utter desire in response.

He pulls away from the kiss breathlessly, his hand gliding softly beneath your t-shirt, caressing the skin of your stomach, up towards your ribs suggestively.

“I know you’ve spent all day in bed, love.” he breathes. “But would you mind if I took you back there?”

Your head dizzies with a new lust. You scan over his face as he pulls you down against his lap almost desperately, his expression showing nothing but his adoration and unsatiated need for you.

And now, you can think of anywhere else you’d rather be.

“..yes please.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry #harry edward styles #harry styles smut

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zvdvdlvr · 4 months

Text

— Drive All Night

— 🖊️. Synopsis. You’ve been quiet; more quiet than normal. Gibbs wants you to know that despite as stoic as he is, he does care. (inspired by ‘call your mom’ by noah kahan and lizzy mcalpine)

— 🖊️. Warnings. Ooc Gibbs but idc. Comfort fic kinda. I self project. Mentions suicide. Mentions Shannon and Kelly Gibbs.

— 🖊️. Tracklist. Track One Track Two Track Three Track Four Track Five

Gibbs looked over at your form, slumped over. He looked at his watch: 23:37. You were usually the person to stay late, to work on the things that were undesirable for everyone else. You hadn’t left the building earlier than 20:00 in months.

He knew why- or rather, knew of why you stayed late. Jenny had told him you had problems, problems taking care of yourself and neglecting yourself; sometimes choosing to take out your own anger and depression on yourself. But you were the best of the best. In fact, you were the best and the youngest. Aged twenty eight.

“Y/n.”

You snapped up, eyes landing on your boss’s. “What’s- what do you need?” You asked, setting your pen down and closing the file.

Gibbs watched you watch him, rigid in your chair.

He knew you were scared to trust; to open your heart and let people in. You had been working for NCIS and had only went out for drinks with the team thrice- Ducky’s birthday, Ziva’s birthday, and Abby’s birthday. You were included, but you seperated yourself for reasons unknown.

“I want to go for a drive. Come with me,” Gibbs said.

Lately, Gibbs had noticed how tired you were, closing your eyes for longer amounts of time, straight chugging your coffee, and getting in and leaving althe office after Gibbs got there. But you were efficient, getting not only your paperwork done, but working on most of Tony’s as well (something that made Gibbs unusually mad).

You were literally working yourself to death and chose to add more to the pile. Was it to get away from your thoughts? To get away from your home situation? What were you running from?

“I have work to do-“

Gibbs chuckled. “You’re the fastest agent to complete their paperwork. You do Tony’s. Tim’s, even. You’re more than ahead on your reports.”

You gnawed at your lip. “Sir, I’m getting ready to go home.”

Liar. Gibbs shook his head in amusement. “That’s an order, y/n.”

At that, you shut off your light and grabbed your coat. “Ok.”

The walk to the elevator was quiet. You wondered what Gibbs wanted. Were you getting fired? You had not done anything out of the ordinary recently… what could Gibbs want?

You climbed into the passenger seat and prayed you were keeping your job.

Gibbs started the truck and drove out of the parking lot. “So,” he started.

You didn’t say anything. You just looked out the window, taking in the life. “What do you want?”

“To know,” Gibbs replied. He turned down the radio and kept his eyes trained forward.

“Know about…?” You prompted, cutious as to what he wanted.

Gibbs shrugged. “You.”

“Y/n l/n, aged 28. My eyes are-“

“Not from your file.”

Silence fell. You didn’t have amything interesting to say about yourself other than the fact that you went to the gym and had an extensive collection of sunset polaroids. And there was no way Gibbs wanted to know about your childhood. That sould be disappointing. Disappointing to tell him about how ordinary and unimportant you were, your own family leaving you. It’s disappointing- exactly the reason why she did what she did: to be more than disappointing. In fact, you had a new reason not to be a disappointment: Gibbs. He, in your time at NCIS, had become one of the few people you never wanted to disappoint.

“Well then… I don’t know what you want to know,” you mumbled dully. Please, you thought, don’t let this change your opinion of me.

Gibbs looked over to see you already looking at him. He couldn’t see your expression, but you looked like you were already thinking about what he would say next.

“Tell me something, y/n. Anything.” Gibbs stated. He slowed down and turned left. He himself didn’t seem to have a destination, making you wonder how long Gibbs would drive around.

You didn’t want to talk, but you yearned for Gibbs to know, to look at everything you’ve gone through and done and understand why you are the way you are.

Of course you trust him, though. That’s not the problem for once. The problem is you don’t want Gibbs to get the wrong impression of you, or come to the conclusion that you’re a fraud or something.

“Tell me something about you first,” you shot back easily, relaxing a little bit into the seat.

So, Gibbs told you about a woman named Shannon and a beautiful baby girl named Kelly. He told you about Shannon’s rules, how he knew that she was the one. A young Leroy Gibbs knew that Shannon Fielding would be the love of his life.

And Gibbs also told you about the case that killed them: the gun, the bullet, and the casing. He told you about his habits after they died, how cold and snappy he was. He told you about- despite his madness- a certain Donald Mallard kept forcing his way into Gibbs’ life, making sure Gibbs knew he wasn’t alone.

“What I’m tryin’ to tell ya is… we are here for you, kid. You aren’t truly alone in this miserable world,” Gibbs finished quietly.

By now, Gibbs had parked in front of a house- his house?- and completely torn down the barrier between boss and coworker.

You weren’t gonna lie, you were crying by now. Tears silently streaming down your cheeks as the man you most admired and looked up to told you about the best and worst days of his life- all the while he had no idea about who you are.

“I didn’t-“ you started, sniffling. You turned to look at him, tears blurring your vision. Some of the phrases he had used to describe his pain rang in your ears and Gibbs knew it- he knew you could relate to some of the things he said and felt.

“Stay the night, kiddo,” Gibbs said, reaching over to pat your shoulder.

As he exited the truck, you felt more tears burning in your eyes: that pat on the back literally gave y/n a reason to live.

Maybe, y/n thought, all the lights that had shut off could turn back on.

#x reader #jules writes 📓🖊#leroy jethro gibbs #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #leroy gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs fanfic #ncis fanfiction #jethro gibbs x female!reader #jethro gibbs x male!reader #X female reader #x male reader #x gn reader #x gn y/n

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lieutnt · 1 year

Text

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only. Top!Rudy, bottom!Alejandro, these men are up to no good. Afab terms used, strap referred to as strap & cock. Note: Original ask got deleted, sorry!

“Are you alone?” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, sending a quick text back.

“Yes, everything ok?” You wait in limbo - radio silence on the other end until your phone starts to vibrate, ‘Rudy is facetiming you’. When you answer the screen is black and you wait a few seconds, barely able to hear anything until finally you speak up. “Rudy? Are you there?” This time you can hear what sounds like shuffling, until something else fills the screen.

It renders you speechless; a naked Alejandro, thighs spread with a strap buried deep inside, shining folds desperately hugging the base of the fake cock. Your mind is completely gone, unable to even think of anything to say, and thankfully Rudy speaks for you. “Sorry mi amor, we couldn’t wait for you.” He pulls out and pushes back in, a loud moan coming from Alejandro that has your cock stirring in your pants.

He laughs when he hears your shallow breaths and a mumbled ‘Christ’, the clinking of your belt leaving little to the imagination of what you were doing. “You’re both despicable, do you know that?”

You hear Alejandro’s breathy sigh when Rudy pulls out slightly, moving the camera so you could see how the cock glistened with arousal. “We just wanted to show you how much we missed you, and what’s waiting for you when you get back.”

Jesus, they were going to be the death of you.

#alejandro vargas #rodolfo rudy parra #trans!alejandro vargas #trans!rodolfo rudy parra #alejandro vargas x male reader #rodolfo rudy parra x male reader #alerudy x male reader #alejandro vargas x rodolfo rudy parra x male reader #call of duty #top male reader #lieutnts drabbles #lieutnts writings #male reader #top reader

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milla-frenchy · 7 months

Text

The exchange (Blackmail part 3)

5k3 | Javier Peña x fem reader ; Joel Miller x fem reader Chapt summary: Joel has to get out of the QZ. You stay with Javi to avoid the dangers of Fireflies attacks Warnings: 18+ mdni. somnophilia, sharing, dirty talk, rough sex, a little bit of degradation and spanking, praise kink, size kink, oral (f/m receiving), rimming, cum eating, unprotected piv, creampie a/n: @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog thank you not only for beta-ing me, but for the ideas on this part! ILY baby 💕💕🫶🫶 Playlist | ao3 | series masterlist | masterlist

Part 2

Life at the QZ has been complicated during the past few days. The Fireflies attacks were intensifying, and the FEDRA soldiers were nervous. An outing to Bill and Frank's house was planned, to bring them some medicine, but Joel didn't want you to come with him.

“I want you to stay, sweetheart. It’s a complete mess in here, it’s too dangerous.”

“You know Javi will help us, Joel.”

“Of course, but all the other soldiers are on edge. I won’t put you at risk of running into one of those cowboys.”

The radio turned on and started playing "Into the groove" by Madonna.

“But you will put yourself in danger… See?” You sighed, before adding “Fuck. Sorry. I know Bill and Frank need the meds. But I’m worried about you going out alone.”

Joel hugged you and stroked your hair, and tried to reassure you “I know baby. But I’m gonna be ok. You know I'll be careful. The most dangerous thing will be coming out of the QZ, but Javi will help me.”

You heard an explosion before you had time to respond. A nearby building had been the target of an attack.

Joel and you walked out of the building and quickly headed over to Javi’s apartment.

“I need to go out tonight, Javi.”

"OK. Let me check some details so that it’s as secure as possible.”

Joel looked at you and said to Javi: “Our apartment is not safe. Not with this new attack.”

He added, looking at you: “You can’t go back there. Not until it’s safe.”

Javi looked at him questioningly.

“I want her to stay here, with you, until I'm back. Our neighborhood is too dangerous right now. Here, it’s more secure. Two nights, maximum, and I’ll be back.”

He turned to you before adding “I don’t want to worry about you while I’m out.” You nodded, your worry at knowing Joel was leaving alone panged your heart. Joel properly put away his things that he had taken in a hurry, and handed you some of your clothes and toiletries that he had put aside before leaving. Javi used his contacts to prepare for the run out.

Before leaving, Joel hugged you and said "don't worry about me, sweetheart. You’ll get a 60s signal, when I’m in Lincoln. Tomorrow night. Javi, watch over her, ok?"

"Of course."

Joel turned around one last time before walking out of the apartment. "You two can… do whatever you want. I'm okay with that."

"Joel?"

“I don’t want you to spend two days moping and worrying. I mean it. Repeat it.”

“We… can do whatever we want.”

Joel looked at you before turning to Javi and they both nodded. They left.

Two hours later night set in. The moon lit up the apartment. You were waiting on the couch. You heard the key in the lock and the door opened. You stood up suddenly and looked at Javi.

"Everything’s fine Hermosa. He left, it’s ok. Things are calming down, Fedra is taking control again."

You threw yourself into his arms in relief and he held you close.

“Let’s eat.”

You had dinner, almost entirely in silence. Javi saw the worry in your eyes and the more the evening progressed, the more he felt your discomfort growing.

"You know we’ll do what you want, right? If you want to go to sleep, that's totally ok.”

You nodded.

You got into bed and you rested your head on his shoulder, hugging him, his arm around you. “It’s gonna be ok”, he said, and kissed your forehead. His cock was hard, you could see it with the sheet stretched. He didn't try anything.

You woke up in the middle of the night. Javi was asleep, his chest pressed against your back. He was breathing calmly, an arm around you. You made a small movement to shift away, but he tightened his grip and his cock nuzzled against your ass, pressing harder.

Fuck, you thought.

You felt your desire rising, and your pussy clenched.

You finally pushed your ass back, to feel him against you, and his shaft grew. You lifted your thigh a little so that his cock stretched between your legs. It followed this path naturally, his tip poking through this hollow. You put two fingers in your mouth to wet them, before sliding your hand between your legs. His tip pointed, hard, tense. You stroked it with your wet fingers and rubbed your thighs against it, until you heard “mmmm, Hermosa?”

You whispered “I’m sorry, Javi… I felt you against me and…” He kissed your neck and said:

“It’s the best way to wake-up. Use me, baby. Use my cock to feel good.”

You moaned, hearing him. You tilted your pelvis and pressed his tip to place it at your entrance. You were dripping. You slowly moved back, and you sank onto his cock. Inch by inch. Javi didn't move, leaving you in control.

You continued to press backwards until Javi's cock was fully buried in your pussy, and you waited a few seconds, time to get used to his width. His right hand came to cup your breast and squeeze it gently. You raised your arm until your fingers tangled in his brown curls and you heard him moan in your ear, his soft mustache brushing against your skin.

“You’ve got a big cock, Javi.”

He laughed, before adding “Yeah. But you're used to big cocks, aren't you? Joel is a big boy.”

You said “mmm” and moved your pelvis forward, very slowly. You wanted to feel every vein, every inch of skin on his cock against your folds. You felt like you could hear the friction of your skins against each other. Your pussy hugged his cock perfectly. Like it was molded for you, like Joel’s was too. You let your head fall back, until your neck was resting against Javi’s shoulder. He lowered his head to you and nuzzled your neck before kissing it. You sped up your movements little by little, focusing on the feeling of his cock filling you completely. Its contours sliding against your flesh. You seemed to feel it growing even bigger. His mouth rested against your neck, and you felt him suck your skin against his lips, then his teeth gently bit down on that space between your neck and your collarbone.

You moaned, face turned to the ceiling, continuing to roll your hips. He released the pressure from his teeth and kissed your slightly bruised skin.

“You like that Hermosa? You like using me?”

“God Javi, I love that. It’s so good.”

“Keep using me. I wanna feel you, and watch you fuck yourself on my cock.”

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come if you keep talking to me like that.”

“Yeah right… you love dirty talk, don’t you?”

You nodded.

“Don’t worry Hermosa, I still have plenty of time to talk to you like you’re dying to hear. Keep fucking me for now.” Javi kept his hips still as you slid down on his cock. You heard him breathe your hair.

“You’re perfect Hermosa, so beautiful…”

You felt your orgasm building. Your hand, buried in Javi’s hair, came to slide down to your stomach, but he grabbed your wrist before you reached your clit.

“Don’t use your fingers, baby.”

“I…I can’t.”

“You can. Focus on what you feel.”

“Damnit Javi…”

“Shhh. Focus."

You started to move your hips again but impatience seized you almost immediately.

“Please… make me come with your fingers… please. Or let me do it.”

“No. I want you to cum just from my big cock filling your pussy. Come on Hermosa. Quit talking, just focus. Do you feel my cock sliding? Do you feel the way my cock is perfect for your pussy? Focus on its width, the way your pussy surrounds it. Do you feel how my cock twitches sometimes? That’s because it wants to cum too. But I won't let it happen until I feel your pussy flooding me. I won’t let it happen, as long as my cock isn't squeezed by you, while you make yourself cum on my shaft.“

Eyes closed, you focused on Javi's words, on his warm voice, and on these sensations you were feeling. This big vein that rubbed against you. The crown of his cock paving the way for the rest of his shaft, with every movement of your hips.

You changed your angle, very subtly. And Javi's cock came to rub against this place that seemed so tiny, but which was finally making you feel what you were looking for. And you felt your orgasm grow.

“Keep talking Javi, please.”

“I love to feel you fucking me, using me. I love that you woke me up. Ready to rub you against my cock while I was still sleeping. You're a naughty girl, aren't you? I can't believe if I hadn't blackmailed you, Joel would still be the only one fucking you, Hermosa. Now my cock can't do without you. You know that, don’t you?”

You mumbled “Mmmm.”

“You know what, Hermosa? Tomorrow night, I'm gonna use you when you sleep. You’d like that I'm sure. Feeling my tongue, or my cock in your pussy as you wake up. Yeah, tonight I’m the one who’s gonna use you.”

He stopped talking for a few seconds, as your breathing accelerated, before whispering in your ear “I bet you’re just waiting for this, to be fucked in your sleep by this big fat cock, right?”

And it was as if he knew that with these words, your orgasm would explode. And he was right. Your orgasm came from deep inside you. From this tiny place you had been concentrating on for several minutes. You felt this wave of spasms, finally taking everything away, down to the tips of your fingers, up to your throat and to your mouth, where the sensation was so strong that you bit your lip to prevent you from screaming in his apartment, in the middle of the night.

“I told you,” he added, his mustache brushing against your neck again.

Your spasms were contracting Javi's cock, and while he held back from grabbing your hips and fucking you hard, he forced himself to stay still and focused on your pussy gripping his cock and squeezing it, until he pulled out. He fucked his fist, with three or four strokes of his wrist, and shot his cum on your ass.

You stayed like that for a few minutes, while he held you tight against him.

You finally got up to go to the bathroom, and when you came back he was lighting a cigarette.

“How do you manage to find more cigarettes?”

“Oh I pay a lot for that, Hermosa.”

You smiled before laying back against him. “I hope Joel’s okay,” you said.

"I’m sure he is. He’ll be back soon,” he added before kissing your forehead.

“I have to go take my shift. Stay here until you get yours, okay? And you come back here directly afterwards. The situation is improving but I don’t want you to risk anything.”

“Sure Javi. Thanks."

He was about to open the apartment door when you called him. “Javi?”

He turned around and looked at you questioningly.

"I agree, for tonight. For you to wake me up like you said."

He smiled, with that cheeky smile you loved so much, and then he left.

You took your shift sorting clothes, the day passed quickly and when you got home, Javi was already there. You went to shower and came back in your t-shirt and sleep shorts. You liked that he didn’t rush you. He hadn’t tried to kiss you, sensing that you weren’t comfortable yet with the idea of establishing this closeness in Joel’s absence either.

The radio turned on and started playing "Whole lotta love" by Led Zeppelin. You felt the tension in your shoulders release and you smiled.

“See? He’s ok. Tomorrow he’ll be back to you.”

He made dinner and you sat down at the table. You liked the way he carried himself. He was always teasing, smiling, so open. He was charming and playful.

After the meal, you watched him light a cigarette and your eyes swept over him, slowly. His hair, his mischievous and lively eyes, his nose, his lips. Then his broad shoulders, his biceps which stretched his t-shirt. You couldn't see more, sitting at the table, still you couldn't help but bite your lip.

“What are you thinking about, Hermosa?”

“Your cock. In my mouth.”

He laughed then his smile froze and you saw the change in his eyes. His cigarette in his mouth, still seated, he unzipped his jeans, without taking out his cock. You smiled and took the cigarette from his lips before taking a drag.

“So… you like this idea?”, you said playfully as you blew the smoke.

You placed the cigarette against his lips and he inhaled, before you took another drag and gave him the cigarette back.

“A lot,” he said.

You stood up from your chair and knelt down in front of him, looking at him. His gaze was fixed on you, waiting. You placed your hand on his bulge before applying a light pressure. With your thumb, you caressed his shaft which strained his jeans, then his balls.

You slipped your hand into his tight jeans, and pushed the fabric aside with your other hand to pull his cock out of the clothing without hurting him. He lifted his pelvis from the chair and you pulled on his pants to slide them off. He wasn't wearing any underwear, as usual.

His cock pointed towards the ceiling as you released it. You looked at it for a few seconds and said “Fuck… your dick is so gorgeous, Javi.”

He smirked and took a drag of his cigarette. God he was beautiful. So confident and sassy.

You sat up so you were right on top of his cock and let your saliva slide down, while Javi exhaled and the blue cigarette smoke enveloped you. You spread the saliva with your thumb, mixing it with his precum, your other fingers wrapped around his shaft.

“Tell me what you want, Javi.”

“Fuck, Hermosa… blow me. Wanna feel your lips on me.”

You smiled as you looked at him and your lips rounded around his tip, as your tongue pressed against his crown.

“Damn… I missed your mouth baby.”

You turned your hand as you parted your mouth and your tongue slid along his cock, until you reached his balls. With your thumb, you gently lifted them, while your tongue continued to go down. You followed the roundness of one of his balls with your tongue as you gently jerked him off, then moved on to the next one. He brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear before resting his hand on your cheek. Without pressing.

The ash from his cigarette that he had now forgotten fell to the ground. He said “damnit” and crushed it in the ashtray.

“You forgot your cigarette, Javi?” you asked, smiling.

“See what you doin’ to me baby?”

You lapped at his balls and your tongue moved up towards his tip. You took him back into your mouth, this time going down his shaft. You didn’t stop until your nose was buried in his neatly trimmed hair, and you stopped, keeping him in your throat, your tongue sliding against his skin. You felt his hand tighten on the side of your cheek. You finally pulled back and caught your breath for a few moments, before pumping his cock again. You felt his precum flowing down your throat and you loved having his cock in your mouth so much, that you didn't plan to stop. But he caressed your cheek and said “wait, Hermosa. I don’t wanna cum in your mouth.”

You groaned and pulled away.

“Baby… I don’t wanna cum in your mouth when I have you to myself all night. Need to fuck your pussy.”

He stood up and held out his hand to you. Barely standing up, he grabbed your thighs and made you sit on the table before sweeping away what was left on it with his hand. He nuzzled your neck while one of his hands rested on the back of your neck. He pulled your t-shirt over your head and kissed your skin, placed kisses under your ear and moved down to your collarbone and then back up the other side of your neck.

“You’re mine tonight, Hermosa, right?” he asked you with a soft voice.

“I am, Javi.”

“Say it.”

“I’m yours tonight, Javi.”

He grabbed your hair in his hand and kissed you, pressing his cock against your pussy. “Oh god,” you said.

His tongue passed your lips and came to seek yours. Everything about him exuded sensuality. You slipped your hands into his hair and all you wanted was to feel him more.

“Lie down, baby” he said, pressing gently on your chest to accompany your movement. Once you were lying down on the table, he remained standing against you, grabbed the outside of your thighs with his hands, and pressed himself against your crotch again.

He pulled back to place his hand against your pussy through your shorts, and smiled as he felt the heat. You pushed your pelvis forward to increase the pressure and he said “tell me what you want, Hermosa.”

“Your cock, Javi. Please.”

He smiled and pushed your shorts aside. “Fuck… you’re soaked…” He ran his thumb along your folds and spread the wetness up to your clit.

He pulled your shorts off and took his cock in his hand, then placed his other hand on your hip. He looked at you and raised an eyebrow, as if asking if it was okay for him to continue. You nodded and he thrust slowly, his second hand also resting on your hip now. He established a slow pace where he entered deeper and deeper with each movement of his hips.

Once deep inside your pussy he stopped for a few seconds, and asked you “how do you want me?”

“Rough”, you answered.

He pulled back, slowly. Before sinking suddenly and entirely. He looked at you again and you nodded. You felt his hands grip your hips tighter. And he took the rhythm you wanted: powerful and deep. You didn’t hold back a scream and he froze.

"No! Don’t stop. Fuck me rough, Javi. I mean it.”

“Fuck…”

He fucked you, his fingers digging into your skin, pushing you down onto his cock with each stroke of his cock.

“That’s what ya want?”

“Yeah! Fuck…yeah.”

“Make yourself cum. Afterwards you won’t be able to do it.”

You slid your hand up to your clit and rolled it under your index finger, trying to maintain pressure despite his strong movements. You felt him slow down and said “fuck, no. Don’t slow down.” He resumed his pace and you came under your finger, squeezing his cock with each spasm.

“Turn around,” he told you, as he pulled out of you. He didn't wait and grabbed your arm to turn you around.

You leaned over the table and he placed his hand on your cheek, pushing it against the table, while he entered your pussy and fucked you again. Your pussy continued to contract from your orgasm.

“Fuck… you’re so…. fucking tight.”

He kept the pressure on your cheek. He was fucking you so deep that your mind started to wander. You felt his balls tapping against your pussy.

“Fucking hell”, he said. He stopped and knelt down. “I need to calm down for a minute. Fuck.”

He spread your ass cheeks and licked your ass. You heard him groan as his tongue played with your ring. After a few minutes, he nibbled your ass cheek and got up, and sank into your pussy.

He leaned against you, still lying on the table, bit your shoulder and pulled your hair back. “You’re driving me crazy baby.” He stood up and grabbed your hair in his hand, leaning your head against the table again.

“Harder…harder, Javi. Please.”

“Oh god…” He fastened his movements and grabbed you by the shoulders for leverage. He was fucking you so hard that the table was moving forward with each thrust of his hips.

“Fuck, I’m gonna…I’m gonna cum.”

He pulled away and grabbed your arm, making you kneel. He held your head level with his cock, and jerked off.

“Open your mouth. Stick out your tongue.”

You waited, tongue outstretched, until the jets of cum reached your mouth and chin. He placed his cock on your tongue, and you licked his tip, swallowing each drop.

“Damnit baby, you’re such a whore.”

He helped you up and took a towel to dry you off. You went to bed a few minutes later.

“Are you ok, Hermosa?”

“I’m more than ok, Javi.”

You kissed him on the cheek and pressed yourself against him.

Javi asked you what the outings were about, and who Frank and Bill were. You told him about the regular supplies, the road to Lincoln. The fact that Joel and you always went there together, until now.

“He was right to leave without you, Hermosa. It was too dangerous, the Fireflies made everything complicated. That fucking Marlene is pissing us off."

“The Che Gevara of Boston…”

Javi sighed and said “yeah…” You continued to chat about life at the QZ, how Javi had gotten to Boston. And you fell asleep.

***************

Javi woke up when it was pitch black. Not a crescent moon. He felt the warmth of your body next to his, even though he could only make out a vague shape in the night.

Joel would be home soon, early in the evening, and you would go back to your home with him. And Javi didn't want you to leave without doing what he kept thinking about. He hesitated between eating you out and fucking you in your sleep. He hadn’t eaten your pussy since Joel left and he fucking wanted it. No, he needed it.

But the idea of entering you while you were still asleep, unprepared, or almost unprepared, so sure that you were going to squeeze him even tighter than usual, was tempting.

His cock stiffened instantly.

His eyes were getting used to the darkness and he could see you more. You were on your back, slightly turned towards him. One leg extended, and the other slightly bent. He knelt down at your feet, very gently, so as not to move the bed. His head was inches from your pussy, and now all he could think about was sticking his tongue in you. His cock would be buried in your pussy soon enough, now all he wanted to do was place his head between your thighs. He pushed your bent leg slightly, to spread it. You groaned in your sleep, without waking up. He grabbed the calf of your outstretched leg, and gently pulled it up, before crawling to settle between your thighs. Miraculously, you didn't wake up.

He wet his lips with his tongue, and let his saliva flow onto your folds before sliding his tongue in a slow caress. He stopped just short of your clit, hoping to keep you asleep for a few more moments. He spread your folds with his thumbs and ran his tongue again, before searching the entrance to your pussy. Delicately at first, then less and less, as he fucked you with his tongue. He growled into your folds, it felt so good. He wished it could last longer, but he finally heard you moan.

*******************

You woke up with a strange feeling in your lower abdomen. As if something unusual was happening. You tried to come to your senses and understand where you were. And you remembered. Javi's. It was night, you were waking up and… Oh fuck!

You understood that the sensation you felt was Javi's tongue deep in your pussy. And the heat felt was the orgasm that was already building. He worked hard, alternating between licking your most and trying to go as deep as possible.

“Oh god… Javi….” you placed your hands on his head, and grabbed his hair between your fingers, squeezing it.

“Fuck… Javi… I’m gonna cum… keep going. Please continue. Oh fuck… Javi. Javi… Oh my God!" you came in his mouth and he didn’t release you until your spasms stopped.

Then he came back up to you, and he kissed you, your taste invading your mouth.

"You liked it? Are you ok?"

“I hated it.”

He looked at you questioningly before laughing when he saw your eyes sparkle.

“Hermosa! You almost scared me!”

“You mean I scared the shit outta you,” you told him, laughing. “Come on, I’ll make it up to you.”

You grabbed him to flip him onto his back and straddled him. Your hand grabbed his cock and you impaled yourself on it in one motion. “Oh fuck, Javi.”

He grunted and put his hands on your hips, making you sink further into his cock. You leaned your head back, eyes closed, continuing to roll your hips.

“I’ve fucked you twice in 24 hours, Javi. I'm gonna end up believing you like it.”

“I don’t like it, I love it.” He spanked you lightly, before telling you “keep going, smart ass.”

You smiled, and continued for a few minutes. Then you leaned forward, your arms around his neck, and whispered in his ear, "Now be a good boy and fill my pussy."

He growled and pulled you closer to him before taking control of the movements. His cock was hitting the bottom of your pussy.

"Who's fucking who now, baby? Huh?"

You smiled against his ear and licked his earlobe before nibbling on it. “Fill me, Javi”, you murmured.

You heard him grunt louder until he froze, hips raised, and you pressed down on his cock while his cum was filling you. You rolled onto your side and rested your head on his torso, after kissing his cheek.

“God, I’m so glad you blackmailed us, Javi.”

He laughed.

Javi walked you back to your apartment in the late afternoon, before going to meet Joel.

“Thank you for everything, Javi.”

“You’re welcome, Hermosa.”

You held each other close, and you knew that your heart, although happy at the idea of seeing Joel again, was torn at the thought of no longer being with Javi.

Joel came home and as soon as he entered the apartment, you threw yourself into his arms.

“I missed you so much, Joel.”

“I missed you too, sweetheart. How are you?”

You didn't let go of him, and he caressed your back with his big hands.

"I'm fine. How was it? How are Bill and Frank?”

"Everything was fine, Bill and Frank are ok. They say hello to you. Well… Frank says hello.”

“That asshole”, you said, speaking about Bill.

“God I missed you, sweetheart.”

You buried your face in his neck and took off his coat.

“Come shower with me Joel. I want to feel you against me.”

You got into the shower and washed yourself off. You loved feeling his fingers in your hair while he was washing them. You held each other together countless times, until the hot water finally stopped. When you went to bed and faced each other, he asked you what happened at Javi's house. You blushed and lowered your head, embarrassed.

“Sweetheart, it’s ok. I told you something, remember?”

You nodded.

"So tell me."

You sighed, still embarrassed.

“Darling…would it help if I told you I jerked off thinking about both of you?”

“What?!”

“What can I say? It’s hot to watch you two fuck. I had no difficulty imagining it. So tell me, please.”

“Ok. Uh… The first evening, I was uncomfortable. Javi didn’t force anything, he saw that I wasn’t in the mood for it and we went to bed without doing anything.”

"Oh babe…”, he said, rubbing your shoulder. “And?”

“And I woke up that night, he was sleeping against me. I felt his cock against my ass and... I couldn't hold back, I rubbed my thighs against him while he was sleeping and... we fucked.”

“Oh… you naughty girl. Did he like it?”

You blushed before nodding.

“Of course he liked it,” Joel said before kissing your cheek.

“Tell me what happened next.”

“Last night, after dinner, I think I felt better and I wanted to… uh… blow him.”

“Show me.”

“What?”

“Show me how you blew him.”

You looked at him, knelt between his legs and sucked him just like you did with Javi.

“Damn sweetheart…. This mouth… Tell me what you did next.”

“He fucked me on the dining room table. I asked him to be rough with me.”

“Were you lying down or leaning over the table?

“At first, lying down, then leaning over.”

“Fuck…sweetheart…come here.”

You got up and he took your hand before leading you into the dining room.

“On the table, huh?”

"Yes…"

“Bend over, then.”

You leaned over and he took off your panties, kneeling down. He spread your ass cheeks with his hands, and said “you’re fuckin soaked, baby. Is it me that turns you on, or thinking about Javi?”

“Both, Joel...”

He stood up and whispered in your ear “You’re a fuckin slut..”

He grabbed his cock in his hand and thrust into you, his other hand on your shoulder. You grabbed the edge of the table with your hands to try to stay in place. Both of his hands were now on your shoulders.

“Shit, Joel…”

“What is it sweetheart? Forgot my big cock?”

“Fuck! No… of course no.”

“Good, because I haven’t forgotten this pussy. My pussy. Although the idea of you getting filled by Javi turns me on so much.”

He was pounding into you and you could barely keep yourself in place.

“Tell me what happened next.”

“We… fuck… we went to bed. And…damn Joel…he told me…god…that he would fuck me while I slept…and…. Oh my God Joel!"

Joel fucked you harder, hearing this.

“During your sleep uh?”

“Yeah…. fuck…yeah…”

“Tell me.”

“He ate me out. While I was sleeping. I woke up… shit… when he was eating me. Fuck... Fuck! I came almost after… after waking up.”

“Damnit sweetheart…Now I’ll have to wake you up with my big, fat cock. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes… mmmm…. yes I know”.

“What next?”

“After that, I rode him and fucked him.”

“Until he filled you with his cum?”

“Yeah… fuck… yeah.”

"Like that?"

You felt the jets of cum painting the inside of your pussy.

“Fuck, Joel…”

As soon as he finished cumming, he grabbed you to turn you around and made you lie down on the table.

“Joel, what-”

“You didn’t cum. Do you think I’d leave you without cumming?”

He was speaking while he was already licking your pussy, filled with his cum.

“God, Joel…”

You grabbed his head in your hands and lifted your feet to place them on the table. Spreading your thighs obscenely. Joel licked off everything, your wetness and his cum, before coming to place his lips against your clit and pointing his tongue at your clit.

“Joel…Joel…keep going. Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t” he said, running his tongue flat from your hole to your clit.

“Be a good girl and come for me. Come on my tongue baby.”

You tried to resist the orgasm you felt coming, the sensations were so strong and so good that you didn’t want it to end. You resisted as much as you could, until it was impossible, and you came in his mouth. You heard him growl again.

“Baby, I don’t know what happened to us since we met Javi, but I just want to see you fucked by our two cocks, again. We’re going back to his place tomorrow night. Ok?”

You smiled.

“Ok Joel.”

He helped you get up and held you in his arms. He kissed your cheek and said, “I love you, sweetheart.”

Part 4

**********************

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gococogo · 2 months

Note

Hello would it be ok to have a destiel fanfic with prompts "Just like we promised" and "I've missed your touch" i love ur work <3

Prompt 1 | Destiel

Synopsis: Dean has been out on a hunt for over a month and hasn't called Cas at all. He's still getting use to this whole fucking an angel thing.

Word Count: 2.9K

Pairing: Dean Winchester / Castiel

Warnings: Angst. Sappy. Smutty.

Notes: It's more than okay to want this. This was a pleasure to write and I hope you enjoy what i created! Enjoy!

The pacing became a constant thing on the fourth week. On the fifth, the nail biting had started. A bad habit he’s picked up from Sam out of all people, a nasty human habit. But the satisfaction behind it to relieve stress almost calms Cas’s nerves. He had paced from the main foyer to the kitchen to Dean’s room. Dean’s room is one of the main places that Castiel had resided.

When the sixth week came around, Cas’s nails were all chewed off and he had began picking at the skin around them. Dean was meant to call an entire week ago. No SMS either. No even a single prayer. Complete radio silence.

Sam had given Castiel Charlie’s number in case he got bored. Dean had made a comment about Charlie’s Angels. Something Cas didn’t understand until he had looked it up on his own phone later that day. But Sam had insisted yet Castiel declined saying he would be perfectly fine, for angel’s cannot feel human depths of boredom, just passing time.

One thousand and eight hours and six minutes to be exact. So, the angel isn’t bored per say, just very, deathly worried about Dean. And Sam.

The fourth day of the sixth week, the chunk and click of the bunker door snaps Castiel out of his trance in the main foyer. He stands up from where he sits at the table as laughter and voices burst into the bunker. By God is it good to hear their voices but at the same time it brings out so many bad emotions that vibrate his being and make him grind his teeth.

Sam is first to walk down the stairs, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder and a grin upon his face. When he spots the angel, his smile faulters. He tries his best to play it off but Cas sees the uncertainty.

“Oh, Castiel!” Sam says more surprised than anything, “I didn’t expect you to still be here!” He speaks as if the conversation they had over a month ago never happened. Which only -what’s that word Dean uses- pisses him off even more.

“I’ve been here this entire time,” Cas grumbles.

Which is below an angel of the lord like himself but the frustration flickering around inside of him is something that he hasn’t felt in a good while. Probably since apocalypse days.

“Cas!”

All eyes go to the older brother making his way down the stairs. Unlike Sam, Dean isn’t unscathed. His lip is busted, and his entire right eye is blackened. His eyebrow is split, and three gauze strips hold it together.

As soon as Dean comes down the last set of stairs, Cas is already across the room pushing past Sam to press two fingers to his forehead. The hunter straightens up at the sudden wellness that comes over him. His bruising disappears and fades into yellow and the cuts and scrapes heal without a scar. He goes to thank the angel but all he sees is a very frustrated one in front of him.

“You were suppose to contact me,” Castiel speaks firmly. Like angel of the lord firm. “But I received none of the sort.”

Sam goes deathly quiet behind them. He places his duffle bag of guns and knives on the table which make a louder noise than he originally intended. As if the sound is cutting through the thick tension in the room.

Dean sucks in air through teeth as he tries to avoid eye contact with the angel. But it doesn’t matter where he looks because Cas is only a few inches from him. So those deep blue eyes is all he sees.

“The hunt got very busy, Cas you know how it gets,” Dean argues poorly as he shrugs his shoulders. “We didn’t have time.”

“We had plenty of time,” Sam comments from the table.

Castiel slowly turns his attention towards Sam with a frown. All while Dean looks to his brother with a look of betrayal mixed with disgust. Sam swallows thickly and picks up his duffle bag.

“I’ll go put these away in the stash,” Sam grins sheepishly as he scoots himself across the room.

Blue returns back to green who looks more like a hurt child than anything. And all that anger and frustration is slow to wash away as Cas brings a hand to Dean’s cheek. The hunter flinches away slightly at first but stays in the warm touch of the angel.

“I still don’t know what I’m doing, Cas,” Dean murmurs.

The angel lets out a deep sigh that has his shoulders drooping. Oh Dean.

“I’m…” The hunter clears his throat, readjusting his tone to something more manlier. “I’m still very new to this. To us.”

Cas holds Dean’s face in both his hands, almost engulfing his face but the hunter stays so still. Why still keep up this façade that doesn’t work on the angel? He’s seen him break and cry and become soft so many times. Why still keep up daddy’s good lil soldier in front of him?

A soft kiss is planted on Dean’s forehead over his once black eye. Then, like all the other times Cas has kissed Dean, he kisses the hunter gently and warmly. The heat that the angel radiates is like a furnace yet so inviting.

Dean grabs onto Castiel’s trench coat as he leans forward, deepening the kiss a little. In this moment, Cas can put his own irritation aside for this. He holds Dean, taste the hint of jerky on his mouth from the trip here. It isn’t the most pleasant of tastes, but Dean has kissed him with worst. Much worse.

Calloused hands make their way under Cas’s coat to his waist. This, this is something the angel has missed. Even if it has been a month and two weeks. Too long for his own good.

Unlike Cas, Dean pulls away to inhale a breath of air. The hunter smiles something wicked and Cas’s eyes slightly widen. Dean’s fingers loop into Cas’s belt and flips the buckle open a little too swiftly and a little too eagerly. A soft grip latches onto his wrist, stopping him in his movements. Dean raises a brow at the angel.

“I don’t think Sam will be too impressed if he catches us out here,” Castiel points out sternly, “Like last time.”

Dean barks out a fit of laughter, the memory coming to mind of Sam’s horrified face at the sight of the two. Dean splayed out on the table with the angel over him, his blue eyes as wide as saucepans. Both stark ass naked with the angel’s white butt out on full display.

“Why not?” Dean chuckles out.

Cas can’t help but roll his eyes. With his grip still on Dean’s wrist he begins backing up slowly across the foyer, dragging Dean along.

“You worry too much,” Dean grins.

“I don’t think I worry enough,” Cas bites back playfully.

Dean stops the angel and draws him into for another deep kiss. One that has him gripping the back of Cas’s hair and looping his fingers back into his belt. Dean pulls away but only mere millimetres, not wanting to stay away for too long.

Those green eyes lock onto the angel and Cas won’t lie, he’s missed those emeralds. He runs a thumb over Dean’s freckled cheek and smiles softly when he sees that everything is the same. No more bruises or cuts. Dean follows the notion with a side eye, almost wanting to pull away but staying still and stiffens under the touch.

It takes both of them a good while to get back to Dean’s room. Having to push the hunter there rather than drag him along since he kept stopping Cas. He isn’t vocal about it but he can tell that the hunter can’t keep his hands off of Cas.

Clothes come off a little too easily and Cas can’t help but frown when he spots more cuts and bruises on Dean’s frame. With soft touches, Cas heals them without a second thought. Dean shivers under the touch, his eyes tracking every movement. With a warm glow, Cas heals a deep purple bruise on Dean’s chest that has the hunter breathing a little easier. But with that he pushes Dean back onto the bed. The springs creak under his weight and he disrupts the perfectly made blankets. Cas’s work.

Dean tries to sit up on the bed but is pushed down again when Cas straddles his lap. He runs his hands over Dean’s body once more, making sure that he hasn’t missed any nicks and cuts. He could heal Dean in one go, but where’s the fun in that?

“I’ve…” Dean hesitates, adverting his gaze downwards to the angel’s hands. “I’ve missed your touch.”

“Hmm,” Cas hums at that with a smile.

“I wish I had called,” Dean continues. “Or sent a text. But I’m scared alright. As stupid as that sounds.”

The angel’s smile falls at that. To respond to that, he clasps the hunter’s face in his hands and kisses him softly unlike before. He moves his hips down on Dean as well, making the hunter squirm under his weight. Maybe he can forgive Dean after all.

In between the kisses, the angel mumbles out, “It’s not stupid at all.”

The result of watching Dean’s face go beet red is a reward in it’s own. Cas kisses him again, humming into his mouth with satisfaction. Such a human thing to do. How much he’s changed since being around Dean. He’s changed him so much. Does Dean realize just how much he’s done for the angel? Or is he blind to that fact? Maybe he might have to ask him one day. But not now.

Not when he feels Dean’s grip tighten on his hips, wanting him to grind down harder into him. The friction is something that the hunter craves at this moment. He grows hard and his dick rubs in between the angel’s cheeks. Precum leaks from Dean’s dick, making the glide easier.

Cas sits up slowly and as if out of nowhere, he holds Dean’s bottle of lube in hand. Dean’s stares at it bug eyed for a moment but doesn’t question it because he knows he left that in the bottom draw of his dresser. Where it normally stays. Either Cas miraculously brought the bottle to his hand or it was always on the bed and he just didn’t see it. Either either, both make sense for the angel.

“Let me,” Dean says as he takes the bottle from him.

Lathering his fingers up generously, Dean a little too eagerly brings his hand around Cas’s ass and inserts two fingers. The angel grunts at the sudden penetration, his eyes fluttering shut. With Dean’s other hand as he sets a quick pace to open up Cas, he kneads his thumb into the angel’s hips. Holding on as if he’s going to fly away with those wings of his.

Cas towers over Dean, scrunching up the blankets into his fists next to the hunter’s head. More lube is added and then a third finger is fitted right to the next others. Cas’s breathing becomes heavy, every nerve in his body buzzing and every inch of his grace humming. He can feel everything a little too well for his own good. The stretch of the three fingers, the way his hard cock rubs up against Dean’s, the way that he’s been wanting to feel Dean’s touch once more. Too much.

Deeming the angel ready, Dean brings his lubed fingers to slick his own dick up. He exhales shakily, holding himself together by a thread. The entire hunt, the Angel of Thursday was on his mind yet he was too coward to send a simple prayer. Next time. Next time we won’t be so stupid.

Cas exhales shakily, opening his eyes to meet a lustful green graze. The angel looks into those eyes fondly with a smile coming upon his reddened lips. He kisses Dean again, this time deepening it and grinding down on the hunter again. Dean grunts under him and digs that thumb into his hip a little more.

Dean guides the head of his dick to Cas’s ass, rubbing himself between his cheeks a few times. He pushes the tip of his dick in, humming in the kiss at the warmth he feels. He pushes in a little deeper and breaks the kiss, his face scrunching up into something needy. Cas continues lining Dean’s exposed neck though with small kisses, sucking and biting lightly. Dean groans as he grabs onto the angel’s hips with both hands to help guide him down.

Cas winces but moans something whiny into the hunter’s skin. He still smells like the hunt. Gun powder, cheap pharmacy cologne and musk. Dean grunts with every push. He fucks into Cas eagerly, but the angel isn’t going to stop him. He’s enjoying this too much. He’s missed Dean too much to let this pass. His body buzzes and constricts with pleasure that he can’t help the noises that comes his mouth. He can feel himself shaking in the hunter’s hold, his grace vibrating within.

Dean pushes Cas down onto him until he’s flush against his hips. The angel groans and breathes heavily as Dean only gives him a few seconds of adjustment before he begins a quick pace again. Each time he thrusts into Cas, he brings the angel down just as hard that gets a satisfying grunt from him.

The hunter sits up suddenly, still holding onto Cas so that they’re flush against each other. With each movement, Cas’s dick rubs up against their stomachs. The angel holds onto him as he lets the hunter fucks out everything from the hunt. Dean groans deep within his throat as he keeps moving at a constant pace, thrusting into Cas on his lap. It’s more of an awkward bob at this point, both being too desperate to do much more. But both are satisfied right now.

But Dean wants more. Suddenly, he flips and throws Cas onto the bed with little effort. He grabs onto the back of the angel’s knees and pushes his legs up so that he’s almost folded in half. He lines himself up again, this time slipping in easier than the last.

The new angle has Cas shivering and grunting with each thrust into him. He digs his fingernails into Dean’s shoulder, unable to gain control of the delicious noises coming from his throat.

Through shaky pants, Dean is able to grumble out a deep, “I’ve missed you.”

Another shiver runs down Cas’s back, earning a whimper like sound from him. The hunter’s cock passes by that sweet bundle of nerves inside of Cas that has him grunting with each movement. Cas wraps his legs around Dean, holding him close as the hunter’s thrust become short and shallow. Dean comes down for a sloppy kiss, mostly broken by breaths of shaky inhales.

“I’ve-“ Dean pecks Cas on the mouth, cutting him off. “missed you-“ another kiss, “…too.”

Dean brings a hand down to wrap about the angel’s leaking cock, flicking a thumb over his tip with every stroke. Cas arches his back the best he can in the position he’s in and startles out a cry. By God, he can feel himself getting close. His body buzzes and feels like tv static with just a simple touch. He doesn’t want this to be over already, but with Dean abusing that sweet part inside of him he can’t hold on at all.

Cas chokes out a strangled cry as his whole body and grace feels like it’s going to explode. He releases hot strips into Dean’s hand as he digs his bitten nails deeper into the hunter’s shoulders. He heals the bruising before it even comes about, even in his stare of high. Dean keeps fucking through his orgasm, making it ten times more intense.

“Dean,” Cas grits out.

With a few couple of more hard thrusts, Dean drives his cock deeper into Cas as he reaches his own orgasm. Dean stiffens up, unmoving as he cums hot and deep within the angel. Who would have thought. Fucking an angel of the lord.

Cas shivers at the new sensation of the warmth inside of him. He grits his teeth, holding Dean in place. He doesn’t think he can handle the hunter moving at this given moment. Both stay still for a good few minutes, a panting and sweaty mess. Cas can’t help but shake faintly, his breathing ragged and uneven. He can feel his grace is all over the place and he tries his best to collect himself.

But it’s very hard when Dean lands on top of the angel with an audible, “Oof,” slipping out of the angel in the process. Cas places a hand on his back and gives him a light pat on the shoulder. But Dean doesn’t move and inch, his face flat against the nape of his neck.

“I’m coming with you next time,” Cas grumbles out.

Whatever Dean says next, it’s lost into a mumble and jumble of words in the angel’s neck. This earns a short chuff from the angel, knowing full well that the hunter can’t stop him in doing so. What he says goes. But right now, he’s fully content in laying in for a few minutes. He’s fine in letting time pass by when it’s with Dean Winchester.

Have an amazing day/night ;)

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fanficgirl429 · 1 year

Text

Six Weeks Later

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Warnings: sex, 18+ only

Word count: 1.4k

--------

The phone on your nightstand lit up, lighting up the dark room. It was currently 10pm on a Saturday night and you were at home instead of partying with your friends. Throughout the night there had been numerous texts and calls from your friends asking where you were and when you would be at the party.

You had answered a few of the texts and completely ignored the calls knowing that your friends would tell each other that you wouldn’t be at the party.

In the past, the only reason you had gone to the parties was because a certain someone was there. Unfortunately, it had been just over six weeks of complete radio silence from them. No texts or calls. When you called him, his phone went straight to voicemail leading you to believe that his phone was off and had been disconnected.

When your phone lit up again, you begrudgingly rolled over and grabbed it off your nightstand. When you saw who the text was from you sat up, unable to believe that it was true.

Rafe: Are you home?

Rafe: Y/N, please answer me

‘Holy shit,’ you mumbled and began to type a response.

Y/N: Yea. I’m home.

Although you were mad at him, you were glad that he was ok. He could have at least let you know that he was going off the grid for a while. Even though the two of you were only fuck buddies, you still cared about him.

There was a slight knock on your window and you looked over, watching as Rafe Cameron pushed it up. When it was all the way up, he expertly climbed in and walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge. Neither of you said anything as the two of you sat in silence.

“Where the fuck have you been?” you said quietly.

Rafe turned around to look at you. “I had some things to take care of.”

Your eyes narrowed. “For six weeks?”

“Yes, Y/N. For six fucking weeks,” he said, his deep voice raising slightly.

“And what? You didn’t think of saying ‘oh hey, i’m gonna be gone for six weeks, just so you know. No need to worry.’ I thought you were dead, Rafe!”

The tall boy stood up and ran his hand through his freshly buzzed hair. “Jesus Y/N! I didn’t know that I was going to be gone for that long.”

What he wasn’t saying was that he had no intentions of returning until his dad told him he had to come back to take over the family business. There was no way he was going to mention that. You would probably make him leave and he didn’t want to be alone right now. He had never told you but he had had a thing for you for quite a while now. It had killed him not being able to see or talk to you for six weeks.

He watched as you pushed off from the bed and began to pace back and forth in your room.

When he thought that you were going to create a path in your carpet, he stood up and blocked the way.

Your eyes met his as the two of you stared at each other. He slowly reached out and brushed his hand against yours. When you didn’t pull away, he laced his fingers through yours, your breath catching in your throat.

It had been weeks since you had been touched by anyone. At this point, you needed to release some built up tension and your fingers hadn’t been doing it the past few times. Now that Rafe was back, you were itching for his hands to move towards your core.

“Rafe…” you mumbled.

“I know you want this just as bad as I do,” he whispered in your ear.

His lips brushed against yours before pressing against them. He kissed you quickly and roughly, like he couldn’t get enough of you. His hands moved down to your waist and grabbed a hold of your t shirt, pulling it over your head.

He reached behind you and placed his hands on your thighs, expertly picking you and walking you over to the bed. Gently, he placed you down, your legs hanging off the edge.

Rafe reached behind him and pulled his t-shirt over his head, revealing his toned body. His arm muscles looked slightly bigger and his six pack was more prominent than before. A slight blush crept onto your face as you admired him. It had only been six weeks but he looked even more fit than before.

Rafe moved to his knees as he leaned forward and placed kisses along your stomach and down to your waist. His fingers gripped onto the waistband of your shorts and slipped them down your legs, along with your underwear.

Although you had done this numerous times before, all of the sudden you felt shy and crossed your arms over your stomach.

“Don’t cover up. I want to see you,” Rafe said, placing your arms at your sides.

His blue eyes watched as you moved up the bed, placing your head on your pillow.

He bent down and pulled off his jeans and boxer briefs. His erection slapped against his stomach and he effortlessly climbed onto the bed, laying on top of you. He placed his hands on either side of your head and pressed his lips back against yours and immediately slipped his tongue into your mouth.

For a few brief moments, the two of you got lost in each other as your mouths moved together. You let out a small gasp as Rafe pressed his fingers against your thigh, dangerously close to the place you needed him most.

Slowly, he moved his fingers up towards your throbbing core as you kissed him harder. When his fingers brushed along your folds, a loud moan escaped your mouth. Rafe smirked before pushing two fingers inside of you.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you, occasionally rubbing his thumb against your sensitive spot.

Faster and faster his fingers moved- bringing you closer and closer and to your climax. Not being able to take it anymore, you reached down and rubbed your fingers over the bundle of nerves. Rafe quickly swatted your hand and placed his thumb there, rubbing quickly.

Gripping onto the sheets, your walls clenched around Rafe’s fingers as you reached your high.

Rafe pulled away from you and sat up on his knees, looking down at you.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this,” he groaned. You sat up and placed your arms around his neck, pulling him back down to you.

“Fuck me,” you begged him.

He let out a laugh and he reached over to the nightstand, pulling it open. He fumbled around for a moment before finding what he was looking for. He handed you the foil packet and sat back on his knees as you rolled the condom onto his length.

He laid back down and pressed a kiss to your lips as he brushed his length against your core. His blue eyes locked with yours as he pushed into you. Slowly, he pushed further into you until he filled you up. He pulled back out and quickly pushed in as he began to move his hips against yours.

You hadn’t realized how much you had needed this until now. The past few weeks you had been filled with anger and snapped almost anything but now those feelings had all but left you.

You had let your nails grow out over the weeks and now they left very noticeable red marks along Rafe’s back as he moved against you.

His thrusts were steady and quick and it didn’t take long before you felt your second high approaching.

“I’m close,” you murmured as you fought back your orgasm.

With a few more thrusts, your walls clenched around Rafe and he released inside of you and string of cuss words leaving his mouth.

He rolled off of you and discarded the used condom into the trashcan next to the bed.

Both of you were covered in sweat and breathing heavily as you lay quietly in your bed.

“You realize we have six weeks to catch up on,” Rafe said, looking over at you.

You laughed. “That’s a lot of sex,” you commented. “But I’m up for the challenge.”

Rafe laughed. “You better be.”

#rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe x y/n #outerbanks #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #drew starkey

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shkika · 3 months

Note

Are you ok?

I'm alive!

I'm!! Okayish thank you for asking and I'm so sorry for the complete radio silence ough

I'm basically very overworked, have been for a bit. The soonest I will be able to come back is April. I'm REALLY hoping April is a more chill time where I can be more active here.

Which means my commissions won't open until at least mid April since I need the break.

It's been a tough period, I really want to make comics and art but alas..

#ask #anonymous #doodles #tough art grind #portfolios are tough to make sheesh #i might post some art from it soon!

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nrdmssgs · 1 year

Text

John Price meeting civilian reader scenario (part 1)

Ok, our beloved Cap got a lo-o-ng story of meeting the reader. But I guess, the man earned it. Both Price and the reader are just being grumpy but loving work-parents here. The reader is afab here. Part 2 is here.

Masterlist

You were practically counting down the days till your vacation. Of course, you loved your work, but the third year without proper days off and the pressure from constant responsibility for your team made itself felt.

You immediately fell in love with this place when you saw its photos. Each cabin here had its own small pier surrounded by trees and stones so that you can ravish in your happy solitude, even if the neighboring houses were occupied.

So when you finally got the keys to your rented cabin on a forest lake, you exhaled: for the next week it's going to be just you, nature, your gimbal camera and hopefully radio silence on your work smartphone.

You had to give it to your colleagues, they held on and did not call you for almost the entire week.

ALMOST

Two days before the end of your vacation, your work phone came to life. You sat on the pier with your feet in the water and watched the sunset. And why did Kevin need to disturb your peace at this perfect moment?

"Hey, Kev, I sure missed you, but I thought I told you to only call if our office was on fire."

You listen to your colleague and mentally regret that you did not choose the career of an actress. Because the composure and calm tone of your answers are clearly pulling for an Oscar right now. As in reality right now you are screaming deep inside.

By some miracle, you manage to solve Kevins difficulties without access to your laptop and notes. Somehow you even manage to be an angel and not to hint to Kevin that he could easily handle this on his own, because you gave him instructions for just such an occasion...

When he finally thanks you and hangs up, the sun is almost completely hidden behind the trees.

"Oh, the day, they stop acting like kindergartners on their work!" - you loudly groan, leaning back on your elbows.

"To that day I'd gladly drink" - a low raspy voice answers somewhere near you.

You turn your head and understand, that the voice belongs to your neighbor, who is sitting on his small pier, hidden from you by trees and bushes. You apologize for the noise and sit up straight, as if he could see you.

"It's fine, I get you." - he answers, chuckling, "I too have quite a bunch of those... Kevins..."

So not only he heard your last groan - he was there for the entire conversation. Somehow, it makes you feel ashamed.

"Just so that you know, I'm not that ass-type of a boss, who thinks, that their colleagues are just a bunch of idiots. I love my guys. It is just sometimes... I really want to finish them."

"Noted" - he grunts, "So how about that drink?"

"Come over here, I'll bring the glasses" - you say, stand up and head to your cabin, hearing something unintelligible like "Yes, ma'am".

When you return to the pier with two glasses, you are met by a man somewhat older and noticeably taller than you. His blue eyes seem to pierce right through you. A smile slowly blooms on his face.

"Nice to meet you finally, big boss" - he holds out his hand to you, noticing that you are walking down the pier barefoot and your feet are still wet.

"The pleasure is mine, sir" - you reach out for a handshake, but he catches your arm in mid-flight and holds your hand up, so you don't slip on the wet boards of the pier.

He takes the glasses from you and leads you to a bench by the pier. "Name is John" - he takes a flask from his pocket and pours some scotch into yours, and then into his glass.

"Nice to meet you" - you raise your glass and tell him your name, "Here is to two very patient bosses."

He grins and drinks to that, his eyes never leaving yours. "So tell me, what that... Kev of yours couldn't do without you?"

You sigh and start explaining your branch of work and what your team is working on right now. John seems pretty invested in your story. "Oh, you just let me talk to your muppets, I'll teach them..." - he adds quietly and softly, so that the harshness of his words is not lined together with the delicacy of his muffled voice.

When you tell him, it's his turn to share how his team pisses him off, he takes a sip from his glass and smiles, looking up. "Jesus Christ, just when I thought, I'd have one bloody quiet evening without MacTavish on my mind..."

He talks for a long time about his colleagues and curiosities that happened at his work. Somehow, by the end of his stories and the second glass of scotch, you have no idea where he works or what exactly he does for a living.

You don't mind, though. He seems like a decent man. And his smile... Oh, it does things to you. Things, that would ask for release later, when you're alone.

"So tell me, how do you blow the steam off here?" - he gestures around you.

"I'm filming my walks" - you answer guilelessly, "Then I'm releasing videos on YouTube, but I'm like... the only person watching them, so I guess, I could just keep them on my notebook as well."

"You mind?" - He shows you a cigar. You nod, but move further from him. He smirks, gets up, and moves behind the bench, so the smoke doesn't blow in your direction. He lights the cigar and asks, "So it's like those videos with travel-diaries? "Hi, today we are visiting this big-ass mountain, hit that like button and stay tuned", yes?"

"Not quite... it's more like time lapses, soundscapes and just silent walks without any commentaries. I like to keep it simple and minimalistic." - you smile, as you talk, feeling his eyes on your back.

And it hits you. Maybe it is two glasses of his fine scotch, maybe it was his piercing, yet soft gaze, but you say: "I'm going on a new trail tomorrow morning. You are welcome to join, if you want."

"Sounds great..." - He exhales smoke in chilling evening air, "Name the time and place, and I'll meet you there."

You name the time. To film a hike without meeting other tourists, you have to leave early. Not everyone will agree to such a wild adventure on their vacation. But this doesn't seem to bother John. He calmly replies “okay, I’ll be waiting for you here tomorrow at the appointed time” and smiles as if you just invited him to dinner at a chic steakhouse, and not doomed him to an early rise and hike along a mountain path.

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saintmurd0ck · 11 months

Text

if the tide takes california

masterlist

pairing: frank castle + mentions of reader

summary: frank spends time contemplating if he's deserving of your love

warnings: angst, hurt (with comfort), mentions of grief and loss, frank being a little sad

a/n: i wrote this in one cathartic hour, please cry with me. ok love you

song pairing: til forever falls apart (ashe ft finneas)

And that's a wrap! Thank you for tuning in today to 6NEWS Radio, late night edition. The time is currently 9 PM and we hope you have a good night, wherever you are.

"Damn interference," Frank mutters. He grits his teeth, cursing as he bends forwards to twist the volume knob down. He knows he should be minutely grateful for any service at all, considering that he's out in the middle of nowhere, forty miles from the nearest backwater town, but his tolerance still wanes to a sliver.

Sighing, Frank goes to rub his temples, remembering why it is he has the radio on in the first place. It's because he'd rather the distraction than to be alone with his thoughts.

For now.

Pushing the reminder aside, he tightens his grip on the pair of binoculars in his lap, bringing them up to his eyes. He's done a good job choosing this location. From where he is, the van is completely hidden --- concealed in a copse of trees right opposite the compound. It's a cloudless, starry night; beautiful, if it weren't for the assholes across the way. He'd run out of fingers before he'd get halfway through the gang leader's rap sheet.

He's been casing them for a week. And very soon --- Frank glances at the time on his phone --- the lights would turn on, girls and gang members arriving in hordes, and maybe, just maybe, he'd finally get to meet the head of this operation. Then, they'd have a little exchange, man-to-man.

That, of course, involves Frank being the only one of them to get out of the compound alive.

He inhales sharply, licking his lips as he continues to survey the area.

When he measures the situation in his head, taking every decision and every course of action required to execute his plan, it's simple. Easy. It's all he knows, and it makes sense.

So why is it so difficult when it comes to you?

Frank scoffs at himself, as if to say, "No, not again." Not tonight. There's a dangerous edge to his behaviour, one he continues to sharpen with every passing minute he's in this van. He purses his lips, casting aside the hollowness in his chest, the void worming its way into his heart.

The radio crackles, and a small noise sounds from the back of his throat. Thank fuck it's music now playing. He couldn't bear a single second more of that aimless, idiotic talk show.

There's a bitter taste in his mouth as he recalls that anger, the sheer turmoil within, just from listening to those people talk. He digs his boots into the footwell, his knuckles going white as the radio presenter's voice echoes in his head. He narrows his eyes, because how can people be so… carefree? How could they laugh about concert tickets and the best pie in town and harmless pranks when he has to do this?

He could've turned the radio off, and let silence fill the cracks in his environment, but some small part of him wanted to listen. Not just for a desperate glimpse into a "normal" life, but at the sweet, gut-wrenching agony it caused --- knowing he can't be a part of it, and pain is a healthy reminder he's alive.

It's a fair assumption to say that most people would run from his burden, or at least try to bury it with the rest of their closeted skeletons, but Frank can't. And he never will.

Because he can't count on anyone else. If it isn't for him, then the scum of the earth walk free.

Emotions are messy. Futile. At least guns served a purpose, no matter what that asshole in red told him. It was uncomplicated this way --- put one bad guy down, then the next. Put 'em where they belong, and they wouldn't reoffend.

Sometimes, Frank feels almost insulted that no-one sees it this way.

He puts the binoculars down, wringing his hands as he checks the time again. He allows himself to breathe in deeply, to fill his lungs with air, before turning up the volume on the radio. It's crackly, but better than before, and instead of overlapping voices, it's a mindless, endless drone of music.

He's not fussed about what comes on, as long as he can concentrate on the mission. At the end of the day, that's all that matters. Or so he convinces himself.

He rubs his eyes, listening to the words of the next song. He doesn't care for the melody, or that the singer has the kind of voice that'd smooth over the bumps in his soul, but something about the lyrics perks his ears.

…Dreaming in a world that we both know is out of our control

A muscle feathers in his jaw as he contemplates turning the radio off completely, but he stays his hand. He can't tell if it's a matter of internal torture again --- a yearning for something he, as the Punisher, could never have --- or that just this once, it's a song worth listening to.

But if shit hits the fan we're not alone, 'cause you've got me and you know That I've got you and I know

The thought of you hits him like a blow to the stomach, a twisting, red-hot knife in the embers of his fury.

If he's right about emotions, then why does your presence make him feel whole? Why is he thinking about you, three states away, before another life-threatening mission?

Frank grimaces, feeling his face contort into something that'd scare him if he looked in a mirror. He knows what he'll see, and it won't just be the husk of the man he used to be. He doesn't know if he could stand to see himself longing for yet another person who'd be better off without him.

If the tide takes California, I'm so glad I got to hold 'ya And if the sky falls from heaven above, oh, I know I had the best time falling into love

He swallows, blowing out a shaky breath, not knowing what to do next.

But it seems that you do.

'Your voice was the only thing that got me out of bed today.'

Frank looks down at your text, torment lining every heartbeat.

'Please come back to me.'

He keeps staring, frozen in place, unsure if he's worthy of your concern. Of your love.

His shoulders tense at the image of you, staying up late with him on your mind. These are feelings he's associated with danger, with grief and loss, and he's unsure if he'd be willing to go through it again. Frank hasn't allowed himself to feel in years, and for so long, he's been better off being that way.

We've been living on a fault line, and for a while, you were all mine I've spent a lifetime giving you my heart, I swear that I'll be yours forever 'Til forever falls apart

"'Til forever falls apart," Frank murmurs to himself, thinking back to the last time he made that commitment to someone, just before his world imploded before his eyes.

"Stupid fuckin' song," he says, shaking his head, but he regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth.

He opens your messages, feeling his gaze tentatively soften, and taps on your contact information. He's presented with options to reply, to call you, or to delete your number and move on, just so he can spare one more innocent soul.

His finger hovers over the screen, hesitating, and his eyes glaze over, trancelike from the song.

His instincts scream that it's a mistake to get involved, but maybe, just this once…

You pick up after the first ring, a sudden flood of relief calming your firing nerves.

Frank clears his throat. "Your voice is the only thing gettin' me through today."

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle angst #frank castle fanfic #the punisher #the punisher x reader #the punisher fanfic #the punisher angst #x reader #rhi writes 💻

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im-robins-bitch · 1 year

Note

Hey can you write robin x reader where reader is in the news paper team with nancy. And robin is always coming in and skipping classes to see reader. One day she randomly asks to join ( not just for the reader definitely not) and nancy ( readers best friend) cant stand the awkward flirting and obliviousness so she partnered them up for a project but robin as no clue what shes doing! Thanks

Love in print (r.b x fem! reader)

Or, Robin is smitten with you after you interview her for the newspaper club and finds herself writing an advice collum in order to spend more time with you. Thank you for the request, I tweaked it a little I hope that's ok. (4.7k)

(Warnings, making out, mentions of homophobia)

Robin isn’t sure how exactly she found herself in this position. One minute she was simply a band geek who minded her own business, now she was running an advice collum for the school newspaper.

How she, of all people, was giving the school population advice, dating and otherwise, was beyond her. When Nancy had first given her the job it had been for one reason and one reason only, you. As soon as you had interviewed her for the band, she had been completely smitten.

It was your first time interviewing and it was clear you were wrung out with nerves. Your attempt at a smile was so sweet, your pen tapping back and forth against your notebook with ferocity.

Your anxiety fueled her own and she began rambling on and on every time you asked a question until you were relaxing enough to genuinely enjoy what she was talking about.

“Tutankhamun's trumpets are the oldest working trumpets in the world though! They were buried for over 3,000 years and they still worked, isn’t that really cool, but then..” She noticed you had stopped writing a long time ago, looking at her instead of the notebook you had been furiously scribbling in earlier to keep up with her rambling.

She knew she talked far too much, especially when she was nervous. She had long lost count of all the times she had been told to be quiet. If there was an awkward silence it was like her mouth had a mind of its own, it just wouldn’t stop running. Anything to fill the quiet so she wouldn’t have to worry about why it was silent in the first place.

“Sorry, I, I should probably shut up, you came to talk to the rest of the band too” Robin murmured.

You shook your head, a genuine smile on your face instead of the nervous one from earlier. “I came to talk to you,” You insisted, “then what happened to the trumpets?”

It took Robin a second to reboot. Your genuine interest in what she was talking about was such a rarity that it made her cheeks flame. Usually when she was in this deep people stopped listening, just waiting until she was finished.

“During the rehearsal for a radio show where they were going to play the trumpets, the silver one broke!”

“What no way! I couldn’t even imagine what I would do if i broke a 3,000-year-old artefact” You giggled, eyes crinkling. “Did they have to cancel the broadcast then?”

Robin shook her head, “They still managed to do it, can you imagine listening to the trumpets over the radio that Egyptians had listened to all those years ago?”

“That must have been really cool,” You say emphatically, tucking your pen behind your ear. “You must be really passionate about the trumpet to know all these facts,”

“Oh…Well, I-” Robin stuttered, caught off guard by this sudden shift in conversation. She could recite facts and stories till the cows came home, but talking about herself was another matter. “I think it’s just natural you pick it up,” Did you think it was weird how much she knew about the trumpet, did you think she was some trumpet freak that slept with it every night?

You shook your head, “You’re not giving yourself enough credit” You insisted “You’re just really smart, I was talking to the flute players and I think I learnt more prepping in the library to talk to you guys than I did from talking to them, you’re the best interview I’ve done by far, it was actually so interesting talking to you I kept forgetting to take notes” You admitted, shifting from one foot to another nervously.

For once Robin was stunned to silence, realising she wasn’t going to talk anymore you started again. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, they’re totally your friends and I just bad-mouthed them, I’m so sorry, it's just-”

“It’s not that I just- people don’t normally…I’m not used to compliments” from someone so cute.

“Oh,”

Now you must think she has no friends and no confidence, which she supposes isn’t exactly untrue.

“Well you should get used to them Robin Buckley, you’re gonna be going places, I can just tell” You grinned, bouncing on your feet again. Your smile must be infectious because Robin smiled right back, cheeks turning rosy.

“You think so?” Robin asked casually. Like that isn’t someone she’d always dreamed of being told, like you haven’t just given her enough material here that she’s going to spend the rest of her life daydreaming about this moment.

“I know so”

It was then that you cemented yourself as the girl that appears in every one of her dreams and fantasies, She knows she’s going to talk to Steve about you until he’s sick of hearing your name. She’s going to look for you every time she’s in the halls in hopes of seeing your nervous feet bouncing against the linoleum.

It was all a haze as you explained that you’ll be back to take some photos on Friday because since Johnathan left there's only one camera and someone else had stolen it, even though you booked it out. The adorable furrow of your brow is saved in her memory bank for her late-night daydreams.

By the time Robin see’s you again she’s learned everything she can about you from Nancy.

You hadn’t had a boyfriend since middle school and insisted that he didn’t count, Andy asked you on a date last year and you rejected him along with seemingly anyone else who tried to ask you out. Nancy was surprisingly loose with the information she shared, offering up far more than Robin had even dared to ask about.

Even though she had gone through a million possible talking points all day, as soon as she saw you, one foot tapping on the floor it all flew right out the window. The camera was looped around your neck and you were fiddling with the buttons, scowling at it in confusion.

“Hey,” Robin greeted, trying to be as casual as possible as she placed her trumpet case on the table and started to put it together.

“Hi” You mumbled, still staring daggers into the camera, “Sorry, I just,” You pressed the buttons a couple of times, “The settings have all been messed up and…I’m so hopeless at this” You murmured, “I asked Johnathon for advice on the phone last night, but it was so much easier when he was here, I have like no idea what I’m doing, god I’m sorry I shouldn’t be complaining.”

“No, it’s ok, I don’t mind, maybe-”

She flinches as you press a button accidentally and she’s blinded by the flash. “Shit, I’m so sorry, are you ok?” You say abandoning the camera and letting it hang from your neck. “Sorry, I’m not normally so… it’s just my first time being in charge of a whole section, it feels like so much pressure. I really don’t want to let Nancy down”

Robin rubs her eyes, trying to reassure you while acting like there aren’t spots appearing in her vision. “I don’t think there's much chance of that, she’s been telling me how great you are all day,”

“Really?”

“Yeah, plus you’re really good at interviewing, I mean, I’ve never been interviewed before, but you made me feel really well interviewed. I mean, just that it was super thorough, but not like an interrogation, trust me I’ve been through one of those and it was awful,” Robin says inching closer and closer. Her mouth once again moved without thinking.

“You’ve been interrogated?” You questioned, finally smiling as you push some hair from your face. “I didn’t realise you were such a trouble maker”

“Oh no, I was innocent,” Robin quickly corrects, “Falsely imprisoned”

“Wow, I didn’t think you could beat your Egyptian trumpet story, but this sounds like it just might.”

Robin blushes, she isn’t sure if you’re making fun of her at first, but the warmth in your eyes makes her think it's the opposite. Still, she knows she can’t actually tell you that story, so she tries to move on. “I could have a look at the camera if you want, my mum has one just like it.”

“If you don’t mind,”

“I don’t mind at all,” Robin grins, moving beside you as you hold out the camera. She has to look over your shoulder, chin slightly brushing against your cheek. She can feel the heat radiating from you, while she fixes the settings for you.

This was probably going to be the last time she would talk to you, once this issue was finished you would go your way and she would go hers. Maybe she could make up some reason to visit Nancy in the club room, see you in passing in the halls.

Only she wants to watch as your nervous smile melts away to a real one, just because of her. She wants to place her hand in yours, feel your palm pressing into her own while you listen to her stories and offer your own up as well.

She takes her time fiddling with the buttons, it didn’t really need much doing anyway, but she isn’t going to let you know that.

She just wishes she had more courage, or that she didn’t have to hide her affection for girls and she could just be herself. Without worrying that asking out the wrong person could ruin her life or at least make her need to move three towns over.

Once she’s finally done she settles the camera down in your hand, ignoring the way you lean away from her touch once she’s finished. “Thank you,” You say, moving your hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, even though it’s already tucked away.

“No problem, I’ve wanted to get more into photography anyway” It’s a complete lie. She isn’t even sure why she says it. She just hopes it will make you stop curling in on yourself, wilting right in front of her eyes from embarrassment.

“Oh really?” You question, brightening up again. “You could always use our darkroom if you need to. We could do with an extra pair of hands if you know anything about developing photos?”

Robin had absolutely no idea how to develop photos in a darkroom. “I would love that!”

While Robin didn’t know much at all about photography, she was going to become an expert if it meant she could spend time with you.

“Great! They’ll love some extra help, I was helping out last week but I tripped over a chair and spilt the developer everywhere, now it’s like every time I need to develop photos no one else is available to help” You laughed.

“Well, I’ll always help!” Robin grinned, loving the way you started to fiddle with your fingers. It was nice to make someone flustered for a change.

She had skipped gym class with a poorly forged note about her period and the male gym teacher immedietly let her go to study hall. Instead she found herself hoping you wanted to see her.

It took her a minute of pacing outside the door to pluck up the courage to walk through the door, a little worried she might immediately be kicked out.

Your smile when she came through the door threatened to spilt your face in half. “You really came!” You exclaimed, abandoning what you were doing and tucking your pen behind your ear. You immediately stand up from the desk you were typing at, Nancy watching with amusement.

It was worth it, it was definitely worth it she thought. Even if she died in the dark room from the fumes she was going to die happy. Never had she been greeted with such excitement.

Nancy smiled knowingly from her place next to you, looking up from what she was doing to raise an eyebrow at Robin, “I didn’t realise you were interested in photography,”

“It’s a recent interest” Robin defended.

“Nance” You scorned, at the same time “Please don’t,”

The two of you looked at each other, both thinking Nancy was referring to you. You picked at your nails as Robin ruffled at her own hair.

“You should get a hurry on if you wanna finish before next period,” Nancy warns, squeezing your wrist in reassurance as you sway on your feet next to her.

Robin glares at the touch, jealous even though she knows she had no right. Especially so when Nancy is very much dating Jonathan. It’s stupid when she knows you so little, she supposes you are on her mind so much it feels like you’re closer than you actually are.

“Right, I’ll lead the way” You offer. Your arm leaves Nancy’s hold and your hand presses gently against Robin's arm instead. She wishes she had gone for a short sleeve shirt today so she could feel your hand against her skin. She settles for the warmth seeping from your palm instead. She mourns the loss when you let go.

You lead her to the small darkroom, informing her that it will just be the two of you. Her chest warms and so do her cheeks.

You spend an hour in the dark room, giggling together over the chemicals. She taught you how to develop the photos step by step, pretending she hadn’t just absorbed all the information she was telling you hours prior.

Even using her hands at one point to guide your own. It was a move Steve had told her to use during their last shift, she swore it was stupid and she wasn’t going to do it. Yet here she was, rings cold against your own skin as she helped you shake the photo just right to dry it off a little before hanging it up.

Once you had finished the few photos that needed doing for the day, you both started packing up. Moving at a much slower pace than when you had been setting up the equipment.

Your hand brushes against hers as you both grab for the same pair of tongs and it makes you bump your hip into the table and the developer splashes over the sides of the tray. “Sorry…” You mumble, stepping away from her a little.

She wasn’t sure if you were apologising for the contact or for spilling the developer. Either way, she wished you wouldn’t.

Robin found herself skipping gym so often that the coach was concerned about her iron levels. He even pulled her aside to offer to make an appointment with the school nurse for her. The time spent with you in the darkroom was worth the embarrassment, especially that day.

Robin was wearing a tinted chapstick she had bought specifically because you had been wearing it the week before. She hadn’t meant to buy it, but just before she could even think her hand grabbed it and added it to her basket.

It made your lips look extra kissable, so she just wanted her lips to look the same. No ulterior motive whatsoever.

Every time she used it, she would blush thinking of your lips, wondering if that’s how you would taste. She didn’t think anything could fluster her more until you noticed her putting it on.

“We have the same lip balm,” You stated, pointing to your lips, covered in the same sticky tint. She panicked, thinking you thought she was weird, trying to find some way to explain. “I wouldn’t have minded sharing,” You say, grinning coyly.

Her brain didn’t work for the entire rest of the day. Behind a timid exterior, you were such a minx. You were always complimenting her any chance you got, barely hiding a smirk at her red cheeks.

It was that day Nancy had approached her, arms crossed and leaning against the table. You had gone to interview Gareth about his local band. You had talked all about it to Robin, you had been Gareth’s lab partner every year since freshman and had a soft spot for him. That was all she heard before her mind drifted off, eyes focused on your lips and nothing else.

Normally you talking about some guy would be enough to make her jealous, but she was still mushy-brained from earlier so she just nodded along to everything you said, missing her chance to offer to tag along.

“We both know you’re not interested in photography, Buckley” Nancy had begun, cutting Robin off before she could even come up with some excuse. “If you’re gonna spend all your time here anyway, might as well do something useful”

So that was how Robin ended up in charge of an advice collum she had no interest in. Nancy told her it would improve the readership to get more of the student body involved, but Robin wasn’t convinced.

Until you had eagerly nodded along, praising Nancy for such a good idea when you came back from your interview.

Every time Robin tried to get out of it she was re-persuaded.

“I’m awful at giving advice” Robin reasoned.

“You helped me” You encouraged. Smiling at her with teeth as you moved some of your papers and pens away from your cluttered desk, “I don’t think I could even cope without you anymore,”

“But..” Robin thought of the small darkroom, the enclosed space leaving no room for anyone other than you and her. She could talk to you in private, without needing to worry about other people.

The advice collum had no photographs, she would have no reason at all to go in there anymore. What if you didn’t even get to spend time together at all any more, she would have to actually write a whole advice section. It didn’t leave much time for staring at your face.

“And you can set up right next to me, it gets pretty lonely writing all by yourself, so we can keep each other company”

All her arguments died on her tongue as she realised what you were doing. Tidying things away and dragging a chair over, so that she could sit right next to you.

She was done for, today was far too much for her to deal with.

Her brain, which had been re-solidifying, abandoned her once again. All she could think of was you. Your sweet smiles, the pen you always tucked behind your ear and then would endearingly forget was there, your shaky hands and jumpy legs.

Even now, despite your confident facade, she could see the nerves in your foot as you tapped it against the floor. You gazed up at her, hoping you hadn’t overstepped by assigning her a place right next to your own.

“That sounds perfect”

So here she was, tapping away on an old typewriter to try and help a mystery freshman whose fiery girlfriend just wouldn’t stop dumping him.

You sat next to her, shoulder brushing her own. No longer so shy with touch, you were often glued to her side. You always sat next to her, writing your articles together. Giving each other advice and spell-checking for each other.

She wished she had an advice collum she could write to.

One day, when she was definitely not trying to impress you by speaking French, ( it totally came up naturally she swears) you look as lovesick as her. Only it’s difficult for her to actually talk to you about it, one wrong move and she could either have a girlfriend or be a bigger social pariah than Eddie Munson.

She’s almost at breaking point today, you’re playing with her rings. She had abandoned them on the table.

They had been irritating her, rubbing against her skin as she tried to type as fast as she could. You had taken that as an opportunity to investigate, scrutinising each one before sliding them on your fingers. You had finished writing a little while ago but were still waiting for her.

You’ve put another one of her rings on your finger, pushing it up and down and up again, twisting it back and forth. “These are really pretty Rob” You compliment, eyes not leaving your hands, twisting them back and forth in the light.

Rob. A little nickname you had recently started using that sent butterflies to her stomach.

“Thanks,” She says, her rhythmic typing stuttering for a second. Did you have any idea what you did to her? How a simple compliment from you made her heart skyrocket. She quickly shakes off the thought, typing even faster so she can get on to the final bit of advice for this week.

She was hoping to finish early so she could somehow segway into going to get some food together. Only she had so many people asking for help this week, Valentine's Day was quickly approaching, so it was taking even longer than usual.

Finally finished with her advice for Basketball Boy, so Robin could finally move on to the last bit of advice.

She looks down at the last bit of paper, you had picked out for her this week, insisting you didn’t have much to do for your article this time and wanting to save her the trouble.

She sighs, seeing another person asking for dating advice. This one is written in a glittering gel pen, they were pretty popular right now, especially the kind that smells like fruits.

She had seen you using one last week, and you had excitedly held it out to her asking her to smell it. She nodded along saying it smelt nice, but really all she could smell was your perfume and it had made her light-headed.

Shaking herself out of her daydreams, she reads over the flowery script.

Dear R,

There’s a girl in my club and she’s all i can think about, I took on a role in my club just to talk to her, back when she didn’t even know I existed. Now we’re friends and I’m terrified of ruining it, please help me, how do I tell her I like her without telling her I like her?

Robin reads over the submission again and again. It’s almost like she wrote it herself.

You rest your head onto Robin’s shoulder, cheek pressing against the sleeve of her shirt. She can feel the warmth of your skin seeping through the fabric. You’re always so warm and Robin is obsessed with it.

January is so cold, she wishes she could bury herself in between your legs, face pressed into your stomach. At least she wants to hold your hand, in fact, she’s pretty sure you’d let her. Friends, do that all the time right? Maybe if she held Nancy's hand first to set a precedence then it wouldn’t need to mean any-

“So…” You mumble, fiddling with her rings again, which are still on your fingers. “What do you think?”

Robin ponders, how could she give this person advice when she was going through the exact same thing and was clueless. “I’m not sure, if he likes her so much then he should just tell her, clearly he never wanted to just be friends”

“Do you think it’s creepy?”

“Do you?” She stutters, of all the weird submission’s you’ve read together, how can the one you think is strange be the one closest to her own situation?

You slump down into your seat and Robin immediately mourns the loss of your touch. “I just…well, the girl has no idea that they’re friends because…you know.”

“I think he should tell her” Robin decides, just because she has to suffer her crushes in silence, doesn’t mean everyone should. “Even if she doesn’t like him, they can still be friends. Look at Steve and me,”

“What if they couldn’t, what if telling them would ruin everything”

“What’s the worst that could happen to him,” Robin reasons, “A bit of embarrassment, maybe he would lose a friend, I think he has more to gain than he has to lose.”

You’re silent for a moment, and then you turn to Robin in your chair. You’ve dumped Robin’s rings and started chipping at your nail polish. A habit that you keep saying you’re going to break, but never do.

“You’re assuming it’s a guy”

“Huh”

“You’re assuming it’s a guy, but look at the writing, look at the glitter gel pen.”

Robin looks down, her thumb rubbing against the sparkly gel pen, the looped cursive is very feminine, but Robin can’t even believe it. Could it really be, could there really be another person like her?

She’s speechless as she takes in the possibility, and then she reads over the letter again.

Robins's heart pounds, she knows she shouldn’t get her hopes up, but it’s already too late. You have this kind of gel pen, even if half the year does too, you have recently made a new friend and you met because of your club. Surely it isn’t completely out of the realm of possibility that it might have been you.

Did you start writing for the entertainment section just to talk to her?

“I think she should tell her,”

“You…You do” You stumble, eyes staring into hers, searching for something.

Robin is pretty sure if you don’t confess to her within the next 30 seconds she going to physically deflate like a balloon. Despite herself, her hopes are sky high. She nods her head eagerly, sure if she speaks her voice will betray her by coming out squeaky.

She’s already biting back her grin before you even start to speak.

“Robs” You start, you sound so quiet and she leans forward in her chair. Both to hear you better and to hopefully give you easier access to her lips. “I…Have you ever read anything by Sappho?”

The breath Robin was holding in came out in a rough exhale. This must be it, it has got to be her. Her legs bounce from trying to hold herself back from throwing herself into your embrace and squealing at the top of her lungs.

She nodded her head again and your eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas, hands darting out to cup her cheeks, bringing more warmth to her heated skin.

“I like you,” She can feel your nerves as your hands shake against her cheeks.

She can’t really believe it. Any of it.

She lurches forward so fast that she almost sends her chair flying. Despite her lack of grace, her kiss is tender. Her hands dwarf your own as she tries to soothe you and your shuddering fingers.

You have the tinted lip balm on today and she greedily hopes it stains her own lips so she has a visual reminder of this moment. She swears she’ll never wipe her lips, eat, drink or do anything that could remove the stain from her lips, even if she dies of dehydration.

Her plan is quickly ruined when you're brought out of your stupor, moving forward with more ferocity than she would ever expect. One hand escapes her hold and clutches the back of her neck, drawing her and her rolling chair forward. You lick greedily at her bottom lip, thighs caging in one of her legs.

Her lips part in shock, your innocent kiss turning into something more. You clutch onto her like you’re terrified of her slipping away. She returns your kiss, one hand squeezing your own, the other moving to cup your cheek.

She brushes her thumb against the apple of your cheek, relishing the soft gasp it gets out of you.

When you part, your eyes flick to hers before quickly looking away. Your shyness returns and it's just as endearing as it was the first time she met you. Despite your embarrassment, you curl one arm around her waist, bringing her as close as you can until your chairs touch.

“I really like you,” You say, timidly, leaving no room for argument.

Robin smiles so hard her cheeks hurt, her brain practically a puddle at her feet.

Maybe Robin was better at giving advice than she thought.

Masterlist

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