Tumgik
#i need a safe place. i need him rn
saevus-brutalis · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
freak Alpha (Avatar AU)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
#nobody asked everyone needed#oc: vincent elijah vahn#avatar AU#oKAY sooooooo AU where Vince is for forcibly sent on Pandora#and it is THE Vince:tm: coz the timeline *kinda* matches my cyberpunk timeline with the Pandora being discovered between 2050 and 2077#sure age would be altered a bit and shit unless he'd be over 100 when he first got there#but hes THE traumatized ex-military Vince roped back into army :]#and he's given an Avatar based on his DNA and something else coz whitecoats like to experiment right :]]#so his Avatar is a bit mutated - has more melanin/black pigment in his body and is bigger than average na'vi#and it grows patches of dark fur in certain places (like a lion almost idk idk)#labcoats making a fucking experimental HYBRID#the scarily fit merc x big alien = ultimate soldier am i right :]#its safe to say he goes feral and is extremally aggressive#he hates whats going on with the natives so he kills his entire unit and runs off#either takes his body somehow or his body isnt even there to begin with idk but they dont simply unplug him like Sully in the first movie#maybe coz its experimental it would kill off the Avatar hybrid if its cut off its human host and they spend ass ton of money on it already#and aint done studying it#but but no important rn he befriends one of those big black scawwy doggos#Thanators right#he starts living in the forest like a feral little guy; aside from being a freakish hybrid he basically looks and behaves like a native#hides from natives and lives a secluded life :]#thank you for coming to my ted talk#saevus brutalis art#saevus brutalis#saevus-brutalis art#original character#oc#na'vi oc#na'vi#avatar oc
120 notes · View notes
faggot-bastard · 2 years
Text
Hospital
1, 958 Words
Chapter 6/?
Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7
Two days passed before Steve finally woke up.
Steve's eyes fluttered open and he shuffled around.
Dustin, who was sitting next to his bed, stood up and grabbed his hand. He was trying to be slow and quiet so that he didn't startle Steve.
"Hey Steve," Dustin said quietly.
Eddie heard this from the other side of the room and he stood up and pressed the button that would call the nurses and then he limped toward the bed. He stood on the other side of Steve and tried to figure out what to do with his hands. Eventually he settled for having them on the side of Steve's bed.
The nurse walked into the room. She walked up to the foot of the bed and looked at Steve. She saw that he was noving and that his eyes were half open. "He's awake then?" he asked Eddie.
Eddie just nodded at him then went back to looking at Steve. His eyes opened wider and he seemed mostly consious now. He started to freak out a little bit but calmed down when he saw Eddie and Dustin. He still hadn't noticed the nurse at the foot of the bed.
"Whe-" Steve tried to say but winced
"You aren't supposed to talk right now." Eddie said worridly
Dustin seemed to have an idea, he reached under the bed and pulled out a small whiteboard and a marker and handed it to Steve. "I got this for when you woke up." He says sheepishly.
Steve took the whiteboard and started writing on it. In shaky handwriting he wrote 'Is everyone else okay'
Eddie smiled a bit "Yeah, Robin and Nancy got released yesterday and Erica woke up yesterday too. Lucas is fine he's just staying with Erica."
Steve looked relived that everyone was okay. He started writing again "How bad is Erica'
"She has a concussion and she needed two stitches."
'Nancy and Robin?' he wrote
"They needed about 15 stitches each."
'You?'
"Blood transplant and four stitches."
'Shit I'm sorry'
"You don't need to be sorry."
'What about me'
"You needed a blood transplant, and you had a concussion. Your throat was also severley bruised and thats why it hurts to talk."
'Okay cool'
"You should probably go back to sleep. You can't have too much stimulation while you're healing." The nurse said.
Steve seemed suprised and he started writing on the board again. 'Were you here the whole time'
"Yes. Now get some sleep, and Eddie you shouldn't be standing on that leg. Go back to your bed."
"Okay fine, goodnight Steve."
'Night Eddie'
Dustin walked with Eddie over to his side of the room. He pulled a pack of cards out of his pocket as Eddie got into the bed.
"You wanna play a card game." Dustin whispered
"Yeah sure. What do you want to play?"
"Go-Fish," Dustin whispered hopefully.
Eddie chuckled, "Of course kid."
Dustin smiled and passed the cards to each of them.
Eddie smiled, he had two matches in his hand already. He put the matches down and grabbed four more cards from the deck.
The two played for about an hour. Eddie won the first match, and Dustin won the second and the third.
Once they finished the third match Eddie spoke up. "Dustin, as much as I enjoy having you here you should go home and get some food and some sleep."
"No I want to stay here with you guys."
"Dustin you haven't had any food today except for a yogurt from the food court. Its seven o'clock at night. Go home and have a big dinner so that you can heal better."
"But what if you need something."
"There are nurses and you need to take care of yourself too."
"Fine, I'm going to visit Erica before I leave though."
"Alright, just make sure that you get a big dinner when you get home. Also try convincing Lucas to go home and get food and sleep too."
"Okay. Bye Eddie I'll see you tomorrow. Bye Steve, I'm glad you woke up." He said waving to Steve's bed where he was lying fast asleep.
Dustin left the room and Eddie went back to looking at Steve.
Steve looked beautiful and carefree when he was sleeping. When Steve would worry (Which was practically all the time) he would age ten years. Steve's hair was on his face and Eddie wanted nothing more than to brush it to the side.
Eddie wiped the thought from his brain. He couldn't be thinking that about Steve.
Steve who had slept with almost every girl in his grade.
Steve who would pick on the freaks of the school.
Steve who had been the MVP in the basketball team.
Eddie laid down and tried to sleep but he couldnt convince his brain to shut up about Steve. Instead of trying and faiing to sleep a bit more Eddie lifted himself into the hospital wheelchair and started wheeling himself around the hospital. The nurses had told Eddie that he could use the wheelchair if he wanted to go around the hospital but he couldn't stand yet.
Eddie went down one level to the food court and got a strawberry yogurt and a Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwich. He took the food and went in the elevator and up two levels. He rolled into Erica's room and saw Erica sleeping with Lucas reading a book next to her.
Lucas looked at Eddie as he rolled in.
Lucas looked terrible. His eyes were sunken in, his movements were all slow. His lips were chapped. He was wearing the clothes he had on during the fight.
Eddie leaned toward Lucas and offered him the sandwich and yogurt.
"No its fine."
"You need to eat something too."
Lucas was about to protest when Eddie glared at him. He took the food, unwrapped it, and started eating. Lucas started devouring the food.
"Dude, when was the last time you ate?!"
"I dont know."
Eddie sighed. He understood why Steve was stressed all the time, these kids are so stupid sometimes. "You need to take care of yourself."
"It's fine."
"No its not, go home. Erica will be okay."
"Okay, I guess I should take a shower." Lucas grabbed his jacket and hesitantly stood up.
"Thanks."
"Bye. See you." He waved to Eddie. "Bye Erica, I'll be back tomorrow."
Eddie waved goodbye to Lucas and then looked at Erica. He hadn't known her for long but she seemed strong and smart. If Eddie could've been faster or stronger maybe she wouldn't be in the hospital.
Eddie shouldn't think like that. It wasn't his fault that the demobats attacked them.
Eddie waved toward her bed and then began wheeling back toward the elevators and to his and Steve's room.
Eddie pulled himself onto his bed and then laid down. His mind was pacing around the idea of everything that Eddie could've done better, but he did his best to stop it. He did his best to save everyone and sure he probably shouldve used his powers earlier in the fight but everyone is alive and nobody is in critical condition. It was okay.
Eddie heard a noise from his left. He looked and saw Steve sitting up in his bed.
"Hey Stevie."
"Hey, how long was I out."
"Only about an hour, maybe less."
"I should probably go back to sleep then."
"Yeah you should. You have a concussion, you need sleep."
"I'm not tired though. Do you want to talk?"
"You really should sleep, but sure. What do you want to talk about?"
"Well I'm sorry if it's personal, but what was the whole magic thingy about."
"What?"
"You know, when you made the bats go all kablooey."
Eddie laughed even though he was terrified. He took a deep breath and then started speaking. "Well you know that girl with superpowers, Eleven."
"Yeah"
"Well I'm like her, except I was Number Ten. Somehow me and Dr. Brenner survived the massacre and I was able to escape in all the confusion. I left the lab and went dumpster diving for some food when Wayne Munson found me, he was the trash guy at the time. He took me with him, gave me actual food and a spare change of clothes. I told him some lie about escaping bad parents and he obviously didn't belive me but he didn't pry either. I started living in his trailer and about a month in I told him what had happened. He immediately took me in and had me move in permanantly, bought me my own clothes and everything. He made up some cover story about him taking me in after my parents died and enrolled me in school. I stopped using the powers because I didn't want to be caught. That's basically it."
"Wow, that's alot."
"Yeah I guess."
"So you have superpowers."
Eddie nodded, a little bit scared.
"And you didn't tell me."
"Well to be fair I was trying to forget about them in the first place."
"That makes sense. From what I heard from El the labs were pretty traumatizing."
"Yeah they were shit."
"That really sucks, I'm sorry you had to deal with that."
"Anyways."
"So how has everything been for you?"
Eddie laughed. "Seriously, thats the first thing you think of."
"I didn't know what to say."
"So that's what you say."
"I don't know it was the first thing I thought of."
"So I was always curious what the rules of basketball were."
Steve's face brightened a little bit and he started talking, "So basically there are ten people on the court, although it dosent matter in small games. All you have to do is get more points than the other team before the timer is up. You get two points for a closer shot and three points for a farther shot."
"Okay, so whats the whole thing about carrying the ball?"
"You aren't allowed to take more than two steps without dribbling the ball, and if you do its called traveling."
"Why?"
"I don't know, it's just the rules."
"So if you get caught 'traveling' you get put on the side?"
"No the ball is given to the opposite team."
"That sucks."
Steve yawned. "As much as I am enjoying teaching you, I'm tired."
"Yeah, Goodnight Stevie."
"Night Eddie."
Steve yawned again and laid down.
Eddie got back on his wheelchair and rolled to the bathroom. He lifted himself onto the toilet and started peeing. He flushed the toilet and stood on his good leg in front of the sink so that he could wash his hands. He looked at himself in the mirror.
To put it simply, he looked like shit.
His hair was messy. His eyeliner had smudged so that his entire lower eyelid had a slight tint of grey. His lips were chapped and cracked.
Eddi sat down on his wheelchair and relaxed. Bathrooms had always been his safe space for some reason, Eddie never knew why. Maybe it was beause they were always there. Maybe it was the only place that felt truly private sometimes. Whatever it was, Eddie felt safer here.
He took a deep breath and rolled down to the cafeteria. He got himself a slice of pizza and a glass of water with plenty of ice of chew on. He quickly finished his snack and went back upstairs to the room. He got into bed and laid down. He was just about to fall asleep when he heard a noise from Steve.
It sounded like he was whimpering, and maybe crying.
"No, no, please don't." Steve cried quietly. His breathing was getting louder and you could hear him sobbing.
Eddie turned to help him.
Previous Chapter
Next Chapter
A/N: Here it is, only *checks watch* a week and a half late. I know I dont really have any kind of schedulde but I try to post a new chapter every week. I am working on an OFMD fic too right now and I should have that out soon. Anyways, please tell me what you think. And suprisingly I have an idea of what I want to do next chapter and I also have an idea for a Byler chapter that could either be a oneshot or be part of this story, tell me what you think I should do. This isnt much of a clifhanger either but it will work as a bridge to the next chapter. Have a nice morning/day/night
11 notes · View notes
skalidris · 4 months
Text
post-canon fanghua chehu trip 30k plus. please
1 note · View note
pleaseshootthejester · 9 months
Text
So over being sad it's not very cool or fun actually
I'd like someone to hold my hand and stroke my hair please
1 note · View note
animenosebluds · 10 months
Text
tumblr lowkey may become my safe space again...
0 notes
justporo · 6 months
Text
Romantic little headcanons for Astarion and Tav
As I said - I feel like I need this rn because I lost some faith in humanity today (I'm fine now though, dw). And I've been deep in my feelings lately about these two silly little geese (as if I there was a time where I wasn't...), so have some cutesy little headcanons:
Tumblr media
Astarion always likes to make sure you're safe and that often manifests with him keeping a hand on your back in support or on your shoulder, maybe his arm around your waist
Also him like softly pushing you with his hand on your back so you're not the one walking in the middle of the busy street; you don't even notice he's doing that he's so gentle about it
You both can't stop staring at each other: stealing glances when the other isn't looking
When you're getting caught you mostly blush as Astarion makes a silly little comment about how obvious you are (affectionately)
When you catch him, he just keeps looking, smile growing bigger until he leans in for a kiss
Astarion looooves to show you off! Not in a trophy kind of way (maybe a little) but like "Look at my wonderful darling love. How beautiful and smart and witty and - dare I say - deadly?", he said and sighed dreamily.
You love holding his hand; he doesn't get it at first but it also becomes a form of reassurance between the two of you: when you don't feel comfortable or you feel like the other needs to feel support you grab each other's hand and squeeze it
But Tav also loves grabbing one of Astarion's hands like when they're sitting around talking, looking at his beautiful long fingers, massaging it gently and then entwining your fingers with his
Also Astarion lifting your joint fingers whenever you hold hands to press a kiss to them
Also Astarion letting his hands wander over your spine, just his hands sliding up and down your back or tip-tapping two fingers along it - doesn't matter if you're clothed or naked, he can never get enough of you
Astarion is also touching your face as often as possible: cupping your cheeks with his hands, holding your chin with his thumb on it; pinching your nose and shaking it softly when you're being a little sassy
Also annoying each other with big wet smooches: "Tav - NO, get your slobbery lips AWAY FROM ME! If I wanted to experience this I would let Scratch lick my face!" But he was already firmly in your grasp and you placed a wet and very loud smacking kiss on his lips. He stuck his tongue out and scrunched up his nose afterwards as you giggled. But you weren't the last to laugh when the vampire grabbed your face and started placing smooches all over your face in payback.
My soul feels better again now. Thanks for coming to my TED talk on how silly and diabetes-inducing cute these two would be.
3K notes · View notes
Note
‘’I’m not gonna let them take you from me.’’ for young snow pleaseeee 🥺
Short little blurb, but I have more to go through
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
Tumblr media
Soft ripples from the lake moved around you, a calming and cooling blanket under the scorching hot sun. You kissed Coryo's shoulder, holding onto him from behind as you floated together in the water, simply relaxing. 
You had never been more grateful to know about this secluded spot. A place where the two of you could be together freely, without having to worry about anyone catching you. Here, it was your little private paradise.
‘’Do you ever miss your old life at the Capitol?’’ 
‘’Not really,’’ he replied with honesty.
He missed Tigris and Grandma’am, but not his old way of living. The barracks were cramped and lacked privacy, but they didn’t have holes in their ceilings. He was also served meals everyday, which he hadn’t been able to afford for a long time in his old home.
‘’Do you plan on going back when you will be finished serving?’’ 
‘’I don’t think I have a choice,’’ he said with a dorming sadness, knowing he’ll have to leave your side one day. 
‘’I don’t want you to ever leave me, Coryo. Not again.’’ 
You might have won the games, but the Capitol was quick to send you back to your district, back where you belonged. They didn’t want you around for longer than needed. When they let you out of the arena, you thought they would let you see your mentor and let you join their celebration. Fool you were. Two peacemakers were waiting for you, ready to escort you to the train station. 
Coryo turned around in your hold to face you, causing ripples in the water from the movement. ‘’I’m not gonna let them take you from me,’’ he promised in a soft but stern voice, his bright blue eyes staring right into yours. ‘’I’ll do anything to keep you with me.’’ 
His words echoed in your head. They should make you feel safe, but instead they made you feel uneasy. You had seen enough horrors in the arena, you didn’t want Coriolanus to commit crimes to keep you. 
‘’Coryo…’’ you whisper-sighed, wishing he wasn’t serious. 
‘’I protect what I love, what’s mine. There’s nothing wrong with that,’’ he stated firmly, his conviction unwavering.
‘’I don’t want you to do anything crazy.’’
The corner of his mouth curled into a mischievous grin as he gently cupped your face, his thumb grazing over your cheek. ‘’If love doesn’t make you crazy, you ain’t doing it right.’’
All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis@Shasta89 @sierraluvz @specialk6802 @CZARINERA @katherinejess
Hunger games / BOASAS taglist: @crossyourmindrights @ziggyneedsabreak @folkloreshorts @runningfrom2am @soulessien @itzfckingreal @creedsofapollo @heart-helmet  @javden @definitelykyles @pumkinnroses @pepperonipastas  @arzua10 @upwritingallnight @cruzgrecia @evelestrange
1K notes · View notes
ellemj · 5 months
Text
Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 2
Bucky Barnes x Reader
**If you haven't read Pt. 1 yet, READ IT FIRST.**
Summary: You fight the effects of the chemical compound for as long as you can, until Bucky makes you an offer that your body can't seem to refuse. But, you each have a rule that the other has to follow.
Warnings: this one is a huge fucking tease, I'm so sorry (I won't be sorry when I release part 3 tonight), masturbation, talk of unprotected sex, profanity, use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires more warnings.
Word Count: 4k (I just couldn't stop the build up)
Author's Note: I cannot believe the overwhelming response on part one of this, I was just in a silly goofy mood and decided to finally use my Tumblr for something other than reading y'alls AMAZING fics every night before bed. I didn't expect anyone to really even see it. My heart is racing as I get ready to post this rn lmao. PLEASEEE tell me what your fav part of this one is, I have to know. Part 3 will be out tonight, I can't make you guys wait too much.
Tumblr media
            Bucky’s resolve has been steadily crumbling for the past hour, and truthfully, he’s barely placing any blame on the chemical compound that’s interacting with the serum coursing through his veins. He’s placing the blame on you and the needy, whimpering noises that you’ve been making for the last forty-five minutes. After the video conference with Bruce and Tony ended, you were quick to lock yourself in one of the bedrooms of the safe house. You didn’t even say another word to Bucky, you just stood up from the couch with one hand clutched over your stomach, and hurried off down the hall. He wanted to say something to you, but what the hell was he supposed to say? I’m sorry that we’re in this situation? That wouldn’t help a damn thing. You’re in it and there’s nothing either one of you can do except pray that you’ll have enough self-control to make it through the night with your doors still locked.
            Bucky sat on the couch for a few minutes after you left, replaying Tony’s last warning to you in his head. You won’t feel relief until your body thinks it has a chance of reproducing, until semen is introduced into your system. It made him feel like shit. He can find relief on his own, he can take care of himself tonight, but you? You’ll suffer for a minimum of eight hours, possibly nearing death, alone behind a locked door. It’s not that he thinks you can’t handle yourself. He’s perfectly aware of how capable you are at handling practically anything. He’s been your partner in the field for two months now and he’s never once had a doubt about your skills, your ability to tolerate pain, or even the split-second decisions you have to make sometimes during missions. You might give each other shit the majority of the time that you’re working together, but when it comes down to it, you trust each other with no reservations. So, why then, does he find himself so fucking worried about you?
            He’s been locked in the bedroom across the hall from yours for the past hour now. He thought maybe things wouldn’t be so bad when he heard you tucking yourself away into bed, when he heard you go still and silent for a few minutes. It was smart of you, trying to sleep as much as you could before the chemical fully set in and began to wreak havoc within your body. But after only fifteen minutes, he heard the faintest sound carrying across the hall. He wasn’t sure what it was at first, thinking maybe you’d gotten up to use the bathroom and it was the creak of a floorboard or maybe a door hinge. It was wishful thinking. The second time he heard it, he was sure. You were whimpering in your sleep. For a few moments, he was able to deceive himself into thinking it was whimpers of pain, maybe from your stomach aching in your sleep. When you grew louder, the sounds of your soft, breathy moans mixing with the sound of the sheets rustling as you tossed and turned restlessly, that’s when his resolve began to break apart piece by piece. He sits on the side of his bed in total darkness. His shirt and tactical pants are strewn across the floor where he previously discarded them when the heat emanating from his body became too much to bear. His hands grip the edge of the mattress with enough force to break through the layers of fabric there, but he fears that if he lets go, the next thing his hands will grip will be either his cock or the two door knobs separating you both. Focusing on your suffering is keeping him from feeling his own pain, but the noises you’re making are making it significantly harder for him to ignore the needs that are bubbling to the surface within him. Shit. How the fuck did he end up in this situation with you?
            You awake suddenly, drenched in sweat, your sweats especially making you feel like damp towels are wrapped around your legs. You waste no time throwing the covers back and ripping your sweats off, tossing them onto the floor and moving your hair to lay it across your pillow so it’s not sticking to your neck. Fuck HYDRA. Fuck Zemo for killing Dr. Nagel. Obviously, you wouldn’t have wanted him running around recreating the super soldier serum either, but if he was still alive maybe you wouldn’t be lying here in this state. You take a deep breath in, counting to three in your head as you breathe it back out. Focusing in on your symptoms, you try to make a mental list. You think that maybe if you can remind yourself of the science behind the symptoms, you won’t become an irrationally horny mess, you can just reason your way out of the most intense arousal you’ve ever felt in your life. Sweating, tachycardia, abdominal cramping, bone pain…you stupidly let your right hand slide down between your legs. Your fingertips briefly grace the exterior fabric of your black boyshort panties, feeling how wet they are adds another symptom to the mental list, not that you needed to feel it to know. Arousal.
            You lean over to the bedside table and feel around blindly for your phone. The screen illuminates and you see that it’s only 10 pm. You’ve only been sleeping for an hour. The chemical compound isn’t even at its peak activity level yet and you’re already beginning to feel a type of desperation that you haven’t felt before. You need relief. Tony’s words swirl around in your mind, making you feel lightheaded and making you want to hunt him down and make him take the words back by force, like that would change the reality of the situation you’re currently in. You won’t feel relief until your body thinks it has a chance of reproducing, until semen is introduced into your system.
            You could try finding relief on your own. Tony isn’t lord over all things scientific. When has he ever dealt with a compound like this before? Never. He doesn’t know shit. You’re trying so hard to convince yourself that he could be wrong. Sitting up in bed, you reach over and flip on the lamp that sits on the bedside table, casting a pale glow across the room. You will yourself to think clearly, to make a plan and implement it. You can fight this. You need something that’ll take down your body temperature, slow your heart rate, and ease some of the pain you’re feeling everywhere. A cold shower.
            Bucky listens intently as you open your door and your feet patter softly down the hall. He listens as you shut and lock the bathroom door behind you and then as you turn on the shower. He mentally curses his heightened sense of hearing when he hears the tussle of your clothes hitting the floor. He’s been ignoring his hardening cock as it grows beneath the black fabric of his boxers. He’s been ignoring it because he feared if he tried to relieve himself, you’d likely hear him across the hall and he’d never let himself live it down. He can’t be the first one to break. But maybe, with you being in the shower, you wouldn’t be able to hear anything coming from his room. Why the hell are you even in the shower? He imagines the pain you’re in would make it hard for you to stand in there for very long, and it’s not like a shower is going to give you much relief at all. He can’t wonder for more than a quick moment, before the chemical begins to really cloud his mind, his clear thoughts becoming hazy behind thoughts of chasing relief. Fuck it. You won’t hear a damn thing.
            Bucky sighs deeply as his lays back on the bed, still in darkness, pushing his boxers down a few inches and freeing his hard length. His flesh hand quickly wraps around it, giving it a slow stroke from base to tip, pre-cum quickly coating his fingers.
            “Oh, fuck.” He groans lowly. It’s never felt like this before. It’s as if every nerve in his body has shifted, has traveled down to embed in his cock. His head falls back into his pillow, his eyes squeezing shut at the sensation of his shaft finally being handled. He works his fist up and down, picking up speed and reveling in the feeling of temporary relief. As he strokes his cock, he feels the pain throughout his body slowly dissipating, easing up but not fully disappearing. Before he can stop himself, he’s picturing exactly what you’d look like right now. Your perfectly toned body standing under a stream of water, your hands running down your smooth skin, your eyes closed as you let the shower wash away your discomfort. He feels guilty. Truly, he does. But it's as if he has no control over his thoughts when his hand is on his cock and his veins are corrupted with a potent chemical from hell. Especially not when you’re naked a mere ten feet down the hall. As Bucky nears his climax, his balls tightening and his cock twitching in his hand, a loud crash resounds throughout the house and he’s brought back to reality. He’s on his feet, his boner tucked reluctantly away in his boxers, and his bedroom door flying open in less than two seconds, fearing the worst. He thinks you must’ve passed out from the effects of the chemical, fallen in the shower, maybe split your head open. When he reaches for the bathroom door knob and finds it locked, he’s giving no second thought to breaking the door down. Hell, he decided he was going to break it down before he ever left his room. He takes one step back, ready to use his leg to kick through it, when he hears the shower water cut off and the curtain pull back.
            “Y/n?” His voice is laced with concern and it takes you by surprise. You’d only been standing in the ice-cold shower for two minutes when you realized it wasn’t going to do shit for you. You aren’t usually one to lose your temper, but feeling so hopeless and helpless, your only plan failing to provide you with any relief, you ended up slamming your fist into the tiled shower wall out of pure frustration. You didn’t do it hard enough to really hurt yourself, but apparently hard enough to alarm Bucky.
            “You’re supposed to be locked in your room.” You call out, your voice coming out a little timid and quieter than you intended. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you step out of the shower and examine yourself in front of the bathroom mirror. Your cheeks are still flushed, your pupils are dilated so much that you’re surprised the lights aren’t hurting your eyes yet, and your rapid pulse is nearly visible in your neck. You let your hair down from the bun you threw it up into for the shower and then pull on the same shirt and damp panties you had on moments earlier.
            “I thought you fell.” Bucky says quietly, barely above a whisper. You can tell he’s standing close to the door. You’ve never heard him speak so softly. You freeze, your hands clutching the edge of the bathroom sink as your body responds to his voice, against your rational mind’s will. You feel a familiar heat gathering between your legs and you squeeze your thighs together. He needs to go back to his room. Now.
            “Bucky, go back to bed.” Your voice is firm, without a single hint of hesitation. Bucky knows that he should heed the warning. He knows he should turn around right now and go back and lock his door. Instead, he stands there in the hallway with his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers and a conflicted expression on his face. You said earlier that your only option was to lock yourselves in your respective rooms and ride it out until morning. Was that really the only option though? He could easily think of a few more options, though admittedly, he might not be thinking with his brain anymore.
            “You have to go back to your room before I come out.” You’re starting to sound like you’re pleading with him. As much as you want to act strong and like you have all of the self-control in the world right now, you’re worried that if you step out into the hall and see him, you won’t be able to stop yourself from reaching out for him. You want to feel his skin beneath your hands as you run your palms from his shoulders, down his chest, straight to the waistband of whatever the hell he’s wearing right now. You want to have him completely bare in front of you, with nothing stopping you from dragging him straight to your bed to find the relief that you both so desperately crave right now. A sharp pang in your lower stomach causes you to let out a soft groan, and the sudden inhale you hear from Bucky through the door doesn’t go unnoticed.
            “Not until I see that you’re okay.” Bucky says, still worried that you fell in the shower or hurt yourself somehow. Not wanting to waste any more time letting the chemical stew in your reproductive system, you flip the bathroom light off so you’re thrown into darkness, before unlocking the bathroom door and pulling it open slowly. You can just barely make out his form in the dark hallway, the curve of his broad shoulders, the glint of the black and gold vibranium making up his left arm, and fuck…the ripples down his abdomen. You’ve always thought he was frustratingly attractive, but now? Just looking at him has you insatiable. You realize quickly that he’s not wearing anything except a pair of black boxers and his dog tags. He’s really not making this easy on you. Your eyes flutter closed and you sigh, telling yourself to suck it up and walk past him. Just walk past him. But now you what he looks like with nearly no clothes on, and he’s so close to you. So. Damn. Close. A foot away from you, to be exact.
            “I’m fine, just go back to bed.” You whisper. You don’t trust yourself to speak any louder, worried that raising your voice might awake something much more primal within yourself.
            “Look at me.” He says, matching your whisper volume. Shit. Shit, shit. Shit. No.
            “Don’t—” You’re cut off by the feel of his cool vibranium fingers wrapping around your right hand, lifting it so he can see it better. You suck in a harsh breath at the contact. It shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does, it’s not even what you need. You need skin. You need him against you. But something about the cool metal contrasting against the warmth of your heated hand feels electrifying.
            “Did you punch the wall?” He questions, examining your reddened knuckles with narrowed eyes. Your eyes remain closed as you nod your head, and he takes the moment to scan his eyes down your body. Your t-shirt skims along the tops of your thighs and he knows if you turned around, it wouldn’t even fully cover the curve of your ass. Fuck, he wants you to turn around. He drops your hand as quickly as he first grabbed it, letting it fall back to your side as he begins running his flesh hand through his disheveled hair.
            “On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it?” Bucky has to know. He knows how high your pain tolerance is, he knows how good you are at putting on a brave face in the worst situations. He has to know how much you’re really suffering right now before he makes an offer that he can’t take back.
            “Four.” You fib, pressing your lips together and daring to open your eyes and look back at him. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark a little more and you can see the sweat glistening across his chest, his quick breaths drawing your attention straight to his pecs.
            “Don’t lie to me.” His gaze hardens. He hates that you’d try to lie to him. Do you really not trust him enough to just be open with him? Jesus, he’s standing in front of you in his fucking boxers with a hard-on that you haven’t even noticed yet and somehow you feel the need to keep things from him, like he isn’t just as vulnerable as you are right now.
            “Seven.” You admit truthfully. The pain in your stomach has intensified, and all you want to do is curl into a ball right there on the floor. You feel like you’ve been doused in gasoline and lit on fire, you feel like someone attempted to extinguish that fire with a gallon of hot sauce, and then ran you over with a semi-truck. You reach out for the door frame with your right hand, using it for balance as your legs begin to feel weaker.
            “Y/n-” Bucky starts, ready to make you an offer, but you don’t let him continue. He knows it’s crossing a line. He’s fully aware that if he offers and you say no, things could just get weird between the two of you. He’s even more aware that if he offers and you say yes, it could effectively end your working relationship. But he can’t stand to see you like this. You might give each other shit more often than you’re civil with each other, but something about you being in pain has always sat wrong with him. He worries more about you in the field than he worries about himself.
            “Don’t say my name, just…” You cut him off, but your voice trails off as your eyes wander down to the front of his boxers, finally noticing the way he’s straining against the fabric, his tip resting just barely under the waistband. “If you keep standing here, if you keep saying things to me, I’m not going to be able to go back to my room. I need you to walk away before I lose the power to let you.” Your warning should be clear as day now. He needs to leave you alone.
            “No.” His refusal hits a nerve, angering you more than you would’ve thought possible. You feel a rush of adrenaline surge through you as you lose control of your actions. You place your hands against his chest, shoving him back, hard. He barely moves, which just further enrages you. “Y/n, we can fix this. I can fix this for you.” His offer is out in the open now. He holds his breath as you freeze in front of him, your hands falling away from his chest and your eyes squeezing shut in contemplation.
            “Do you even realize what you’re offering?” Your question hangs in the air between the two of you, and the tension in the hallway makes it feel as though lightning is about to strike the tiny cobblestone house that you stand in. You wish lightning would strike. When you open your eyes this time, the look in Bucky’s eye has changed. There’s something in place of his usual hard gaze, something that nearly draws you in.
            “Yes.” He’s offering to fuck you. He’s offering to give you the relief that you so badly need, the relief that can only be found when he finishes inside you. You’re hallucinating. That’s what this is. Because there is no fucking way that he’s standing in front of you right now, the six-foot tall super soldier who you can barely get along with outside of mandatory missions, offering to fuck you raw. “I know what I’m offering.” You only take a moment to weigh your options. Go back to your room, lock the door, and suffer for the next 7-10 hours or have sex with him and hope that it doesn’t ruin your entire life. Why would it ruin your life? Because he’s the only partner that you’ve trusted enough to work with since Nat passed, and there’s no way that things can just be fine and normal after you’ve seen each other naked. Things would get awkward, it’d be hard to look at each other, hard to see each other as professionals anymore. And your work, your job, is your life. Outside of this you have nothing. No family, not a single friend that isn't connected to this damn line of work, not a damn thing to turn to when this inevitably goes to shit.
            “Stop overthinking it.” Bucky’s voice breaks you out of your whirlwind of thoughts. Against your better judgement, you make eye contact with him and the way he’s looking at you gives you butterflies. Butterflies? Who the fuck are you right now? “Close your eyes.” His voice is low, making the butterflies in your stomach explode and spread outward until it feels like your skin is tingling. You don’t know why you do as he says, but your eyes close and you stand there with bated breath as the floorboards creak. He’s stepping closer to you, stopping when you feel his breath fanning across your face. He trails his flesh fingertips from the back of your left hand and up your arm slowly, drawing goosebumps to the surface of your overheated skin but leaving some kind of calmness behind. You relish the way your left arm becomes the only part of your body that isn’t in pain, the only part that he’s touching.
            “Okay…” Your voice is raspy as you cave to his touch. “But I have a rule.” He pulls his hand away and you wince as the pain quickly returns to the bones deep within your arm. He raises an eyebrow at you as he waits for you to continue. “You can’t kiss my lips.”
            Bucky hesitates for a second, caught off guard by your insane rule. No kissing? During sex? Do you hate him that much? Fuck, he shouldn’t have offered to do this in the first place. It’s obvious that you really don’t want this, and he won’t be able to get off knowing that.
            “Who’s overthinking now?” You laugh out, brushing past him and heading straight for your bedroom door. You took his hesitation as a rejection of your rule, and if he rejects your rule then you’re not doing this. If he kisses you, you’re scared you’re going to feel something. You can have sex and find absolutely zero meaning in it, that’s not that hard. It’s just a physical act. But kissing? Kissing makes it too intimate, too much of a real connection. You won’t give that away so easily. Just as you’re nearing the door, you feel Bucky’s hand wrap tightly around your wrist and pull you back, spinning you around so you’re facing him. In less than a second, he’s walking you backwards until your ass hits the wall and your hand is pinned above your head, with his body pressed firmly against yours. His nose brushes over the tip of yours and you shudder at the feeling of his skin, his body giving off so much heat that you’re regretting having put your shirt back on earlier.
            “Fine, I won’t kiss you.” He rasps. His vibranium hand is gripping your hip, holding you solidly against the wall as he moves to run his lips along your jawline. He doesn’t kiss your skin, he simply lets his lips ghost over it, making you tilt your head to the side in anticipation. “I have one rule of my own.”
            “What’s that?” Your voice sounds a lot more confident than you expected it to, like you’re not fighting to hold yourself together inside. He nips at your earlobe softly and you feel the tip of his tongue against it so lightly that you’re not sure if you imagined it or not.
            “You’re going to wear these while I fuck you.” He guides your right hand up over the perfect ridges of his abs, across his chest, and straight to the dog tags that hang around his neck.
Next Part
TAG LIST:
@sarcastickiddo @donttalktosposts @marygoddessofmischief @its-daydreamer23 @lightsonnoonehome @gyokujyn @kandis-mom @millercontracting @alicia-bman @littlemiss-yeehaw @sdddoobydoobydoo @a-rotten-chicken-nugget @browneyedgirl22 @charmedbysarge @i-dont-know-how-to-words @maraaaamartinnnn @hensawweston @traderjoesmints @fictionallyunavailable4ever @black-cat-2 @just-act-natural @phoenixstark1708 @ladyvenera
2K notes · View notes
Text
We talk about how mischaracterized Hobie is - which he is - but I honestly think someone else is characterized REALLY weirdly by fandom
Miguel O'Hara and Misrepresentation of His Rage: a.k.a Miguel has Ken Energy you fools
[this is a breakdown where I examine Miguel's trauma, his relationship with Miles, his role in The Society, and his personality]
I talk a lot of shit about the Hobie tag, but the over-saturation of smut in the Miguel tag is at critical mass.
And like Latino-fetishization aside, I feel like he's not written as a human.
He's written so flat.
I swear ya'll be writing him as the angriest, coldest, most anti-social man on earth. Ya'll be having him rude and avoidant with no friends whatsoever or a romantic soft latin lover and NO IN BETWEEN
which is so funny cause like... I feel like Miguel is Just A Guy
I know they're easy to overlook but I think about moments like these all the time
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
But I ALWAYS see him written him as friendless, and cold, or constantly irritated and angry but like - I feel like most of the time Miguel is just some dude. Like in a Good Way.
And he's fine with that.
Miguel runs a Society Full of Spider-people, and they're working for him voluntarily. Peter Parkers wouldn't work for someone they didn't think was genuinely, good-likeable, and level-headed.
He compliments Lego-Spider-Man. When Hobie was there he wasn't pissed he was just like 'not in the mood rn ngl'
and Hobie didn't take the piss outta him - because I feel like him and Hobie have a mutal understanding/relaxed relationship. All throughout the movie Hobie isn't talking bad about Miguel in specific - he never says anything about Miguel being annoying or evil - he's always taking about The Society Miguel has made.
Even Hobie - who will openly talk bad about the PM, doesn't really feel the need to diss Miguel's character in specific. Which I find very interesting.
I think this, along with a couple other things shows that the way we view Miguel in fandom is not really how he is, like..when he's not going buckwild insane.
Miguel and His Role as Canon
I could see Miguel taking his role as boss very seriously - the same way he took being a father.
Miguel has assumed the role of 'leader' over these Spider-people. In his eyes, it's his job to lead these people through their canon events to the other side, for the safety of the universe, and for them to become the people fate says they're supposed to be.
Because he made the mistake of 'going against fate'. A lot of the time we say that Miguel's justification is 'because I suffered, you must too'. But in his eyes, it's more like 'I tried to run from who I was supposed to be and it blew up in my face. Please don't make the same mistake - it's not worth it.'
Quiet literally 'Do what you're supposed to do, and things won't fall apart around you.'
And I think that really says a lot about how he feels about his own choices, and his own daughter.
Miguel broke canon to be with his daughter, and because of that, she - and billions of others, died. And Miguel feels directly responsible for that. In his eyes, he killed his daughter and murdered billions of people.
And although he loves his daughter - he sees it as not worth it. He sees taking her father's place as a mistake.
To Miguel, canon events and the pain they cause are much more 'worth it' and 'tolerable', than the pain and guilt of killing an entire universe.
Because with canon events, there is no fault. It's not your fault you couldn't catch Gwen Stacy. It's not that you're not fast enough, it's that it's suppose to happen. It's not your fault.
But in Miguel's case - it was his fault. It wasn't suppose to happen.
That's why Miles sets him off in a way others don't and can't. Because he wasn't supposed to happen.
When things are under control, Miguel is fine. When things aren't, Miguel isn't.
Miguel needs order. He needs canon. Not because he likes it, but because he feels beaten into submission by it. He feels safe in the idea that canon events happen even if you do everything right, because he still feels the guilt of having done something 'wrong'.
That's why he sees letting people die in canon events as 'the right thing'.
It's the trolley problem.
A trolley is hurtling at someone you love, on the other track there are 5 people. Do you let the one you love die, or do you hit the switch and save them - and take the blame for killing five people?
What's the right thing to do? Save your captain father and letting a universe die? Or letting your father die, but the universe will for sure live.
Miguel has already made his choice, even if he didn't know it at the time. By becoming a father, Miguel hit the switch. And he chose his daughter at the expense of a universe. And he regrets that decision. He feels guilt, like he's to blame.
When canon events happen, there's no one to blame. When anomalies happen, there is.
Miles and Miguel
Miles and Miguel have an interesting and unique dynamic with each other, one that I haven't seen anyone mention yet.
When I look at Miles and Miguel, especially in this scene:
Tumblr media
I kinda see Miguel and a past version of himself. Miguel trying to stop what he sees - as someone about to make the same mistake he did.
When Miguel met his daughter, he didn't know about it's threat to the multiverse. And although it might be described as the best time in Miguel's life, he regrets it. If he would go back, he would have rather let his daughter live. Fatherless, but at least she would have lived.
Miguel didn't know. But Miles does. And that's what makes Miguel so furious.
Miles is going to go against canon, be with his dad, and threaten the multiverse. And Miguel believes that if Miles does this, billions of people and beings across a universe will die. 100% totality rate, 100% assured.
Miles is in the same position as Miguel once was. Miles has the same choice. To choose the one he loves over canon.
The only difference is Miles knows. He has a chance.
Miguel believes that Miles can spare himself the pain, and the guilt of murdering billions - if he just listened to him.
Miguel is the only Spider-person who has ever killed a Spider-verse. And he doesn't want that for Miles.
Miles being an anomaly was one thing. He was ready to calmly talk about that. But when Miguel sees him going down the same road as he once did, making the same choice even though Miguel is telling him not to - it makes it snap.
Because if Miguel could go back, knowing what he knows - if Miguel could only be in Miles' place - he wouldn't. Like Rio said - Miguel would kill to be in his place.
He sees Miguel like how Rio describes herself, oddly enough. Rio says she'd kill to be in Miles place, and she doesn't understand his 'irresponsible' behavior. But unbeknownst to her - his 'irresponsible' behavior is more heroic than she can understand.
Miguel is just the same. He sees Miles' choice as irresponsible, that he's making all the wrong choices even though people are throwing opportunity at him.
Miles is the only other Spider-person to risk what Miguel risked. And, genuinely believing everyone will die because of this - he's furious at Miles, the same way he's still furious at himself. He loved his daughter, and he knows Miles loves it dad. But having been on the other side of it all, he sees it as not worth it.
Miguel wants to be the only Spider-man who is the way he is. He doesn't want to Miles to do what he did, become what he is. Because he knows theres no coming back from that.
If Miguel could go back and shake himself and scream in his face to leave Gabriella alone, to just leave her dimension alone, he would. But he can't.
So he does it to Miles.
Miguel as a Boss
I don't think Miguel is an outright mean or abrasive person. I feel like outside of Miles, he's fairly calm, albeit a bit stressed. I could see him being really organized and good at time management -
And I can see Miguel being good with people. I don't think he's the kinda boss that'd be like 'Oh, you had a canon event last night? Your girlfriend fell off a building? Yeah, we get that a lot, get over it.'
And if anything - I think he'd want to help the Spider-people when it comes to processing canon events.
Miguel believes that canon events are necessary, not just to the multiverse, but to the development of who Spider-people are 'supposed' to be. So I think he'd set up support systems around HQ to help them process it, and he'd at least be a bit understanding.
I could absolutely see Miguel as the type to ask a teammate "Are you alright?" after something intense, or telling them to sit out. I could see him giving generous leave for Spiders who are going through stuff.
By Jess's response, it seems as if he leaves most of that to her, but I feel like the fact he stops to tell Gwen "Don't worry, kid." shows that he's use to comforting people, or prioritizes putting people at ease.
I mean, what Spider-man doesn't?
Miguel does seem to get along with people (aside from Miles and Gwen when he's scolding her), and it seems like people do like Miguel.
Miguel's Personality
Tbh - I don't think he's nearly as angry as fandom makes him out to be.
He was raising a child. I imagine that for the most part, he's pretty patient.
Like if you call him a name, he's not gonna get pissed. I feel like he's more likely to be like "Haha. Very funny." Or just pinch his nose bridge and be like "You done?"
I mean I know with all the gnashing and clawing and yelling and going apeshit, it can be easy to imagine Miguel as JUST that.
But I also like to imagine that most of the time, he's just like that normal boss as Target.
And a lot of his day is spent doing boring mundane things.
He's not always standing there brooding over videos of him and his dead daughter. He only does that when he's psyching himself up to yell at Miles.
Outside of that, he probably has a lot more things to do, realistically speaking. Organizing missions, checking status reports, looking over intake forms of anomalies, okaying and vetoing different protocols. Approving new technology, taking complaints from members, dealing with Hobie (an extra job in its own right), fixing things MayDay breaks, etc, etc.
And he's completely fine with that. Maybe he even finds calmness in it. When there's order, and routine, and everyone is working together and there's no kinks in the hose per say, he can operate.
Like yeah he's a little irritated and looks like he only slept 4 hours - but he's here and he's going to work with his team and employees, make sure things run smoothly, and make sure everyone gets home safe.
He's gonna try and make the society a nice place to be and make sure people on the team (like Lego) feel appreciated and odd-one-outs like Hobie get to hang and do what they want without much kickback.
The other Spider-people - like Pavi - wouldn't have joined otherwise.
If Pavi had showed up and Miguel was all stern and cold and rude, he probably would've been like 'no thanks my friend'
Miguel knew Peter B. before he lost Gabriella. So he had to become friends with Peter some way. He was putting up with Peter and his humor by choice, and in return Peter must have found Miguel cool enough to hang out with.
I think it's because Miguel is good with people, a lot of different types of people.
He's pretty down to earth, even if he is a work-aholic. He can be fun to chill or hang out with, even if he's a bit of a tight-ass.
Sure his humor may be dry, and his personality tame, but he's just him.
But I can see him as being a guy who you see at the gym routinely and never say hi to but you just nod at each other in silent respect while doing your workouts sometime.
Or the dude at your job you only see at the coffee machine - you know he does other stuff, but you never run into him anywhere else.
Or the dude who'll stop on the street when you ask for the time and lift one earphone before telling you it, then walking away without another word.
DO YOU GET WHAT I MEAN DO YOU GET THAT VIBE Like just Dude He's like a dad but not like a 'Dad vibe' with like sneakers or anything but like 'Dad who comes to PTA meeting but doesn't talk to anybody and quietly leaves when it's over'.
DO YOU UNDERSTAND PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU UNDERSTAND THIS VIBE It's giving Ken.
Anyways stop avoiding Miguel's Kenergy.
2K notes · View notes
ellecdc · 28 days
Note
I'm sick rn so I wanted to know if you could do a little comfort fic of moonwater taking care of sick reader or something pls :)
awe so sorry you're unwell babes! hope you feel better soon <33
poly!moonwater x fem!reader who has the flu
Another shiver shook your frame even from your place burrowed deep beneath the thick duvet in your spare bedroom.
You’d woken up a little late this morning; Regulus needed to be in the office early for a meeting, and Remus had a meeting with his publisher, meaning you had been on your own. You felt awful, but ultimately hoped that as the day had continued, you might perk up a bit.
You did not perk up. In fact, you ended up spending so much time in the bathroom that your boss actually suggested you go home for the rest of the day.
Too poorly to feel as embarrassed as you probably ought to, you readily accepted and returned to yours, Regulus’, and Remus’ shared flat.
It took nearly all your effort to change out of your work clothes, change the bedding in your shared bedroom so that the boys wouldn’t have to sleep in your germs, and set yourself up in the guest room with a bucket just in case.
You’d slept on and off quite fitfully, waking up with a start when your fever induced brain concocted the most ridiculous nightmares to alert you to your sweaty and discomfited state. 
You were so poorly that you hadn’t even realized anyone was home until Regulus was standing in front of you like a creepy vampire watching you sleep.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Regulus.” You muttered, slapping your hand to your own chest as you tried catching your breath, which caused a small coughing fit.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Your boyfriend asked incredulously.
You groaned as you rolled back onto your side to face him.
“Hello, Regulus. It’s nice to see you.” You deadpanned.
Regulus huffed and dropped his briefcase.
“Hello, amour.” He deadpanned in return. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He asked again as he gently sat on the edge of the bed to place the back of his hand to your forehead, grimacing in response to your sweat or your fever, you weren’t sure. 
“I’m sick.”
Regulus made a pathetic cooing sound that was so contrary to his sharp demeanour made all the more severe in his smart work attire, it was almost comical. 
“Why didn’t you call me?”
You huffed at that. “So, what? So, you could come home and watch me barely sleep? I was fine.”
“Fine.” Regulus scoffed. “You don’t look fine, amour.”
“Words hurt, Reg.” You groaned as the pain behind your eyes grew.
Regulus made another cooing sound and stood.
You thought perhaps he was getting up to change or whatnot but opened your eyes to see him with his phone pressed to his ear.
“Regulus, what are you doing?” You demanded with all the sternness you could muster, which was not much at all in your current state.
“That’s enough out of you.” He muttered quietly as he brought his phone back to his ear.
“Hi love, how are you?” He spoke over your attempted rebuttal.
You could hear your other boyfriends’ low tones responding to Regulus from the other end of the line.
“Good. It went well, thank you. I just got home actually, Y/N’s already here; she’s quite poorly.”
Though you still couldn’t make out the words, Remus’ voice picked up in volume. 
“No, she didn’t tell me either.” Regulus commented, sending you a pointed glare.  
“Okay, yeah. Alright, we’ll see you soon. Yeah, love you too. Bye.” 
You groaned petulantly. “Why’d you do that? He doesn’t have to come home for me.”
“Maybe he’s coming home for me; ever consider that?” He snarked back, pushing some of your sweaty hairs away from your head to press a kiss to your head.
“You’re a furnace, amour. Is it safe for me to assume you haven’t taken any medication?”
He got his answer in the form of a guilty expression.
“Tu vas être ma mort. Tu as de la chance d'être si mignon.” He muttered as he left the room to change and gather some things for your flu. 
You came back into consciousness to the sound of Remus and Regulus speaking gently.
“I hate to wake her up, but she really should take something.”
“Has she eaten, though? She shouldn’t take anything on an empty stomach.”
“If that bucket is any indication, I doubt there’s anything in her stomach at all.”
“Can you guys go do your worrying elsewhere, please? I’m trying to die in peace.” You groaned, caused Remus to gasp and Regulus to scoff.
“Dovey! Oh, my poor girl. What happened? Are you okay?” Remus cooed, kneeling on the floor in front of you to start petting at your head.
“I’m okay.” You croaked.
“You’re a liar.” He responded; words pointed but expression loving.
“Do you think you can eat, amour?” Regulus interrupted. 
“I don’t want to.” You moaned.
“That’s not what I asked, love.”
Remus tsked at Regulus’ coldness and took your face in his hands.
“Dove, can you try? Please? For me.”
You groaned very petulantly but began sitting yourself upright nonetheless. 
You allowed Remus to position your pillows and arrange the tray Regulus had prepared for you on your lap, but you drew the line at him trying to spoon feed you the stew.  
“Did you wake up this poorly?” Regulus asked from the end of your bed.
“Sort of, but it got worse at work.”
The air was sucked out of the room as both men turned to look at you incredulously.
“You went to work?!” Regulus gawked.
“Why, dove?”
“Ma MORT, je le jure!” Regulus groaned exasperatedly. “Why didn’t you call us to pick you up?”
“And you took the time to change the bedding and move out of our room when you were like this?” Remus added.
You were beginning to feel embarrassingly teary as you put your spoon down and pushed the tray away from you.
“I didn’t want you guys to get catch this. I just... I was fine.” You sniffled and wiped at your eyes as the first tear fell.
Remus tsked again and rested his forehead against your temple, and you realized then how much cooler his forehead felt against yours. 
“Okay.” Regulus said quietly, picking up the tray from your lap and placing it on the dresser. “Can you take these for me, love? Fever reducers and anti-nausea for now; we’ll see how you feel in a few hours.”
He held the pills out to you in his palm and held a glass of water in the other. You hiccupped and sniffled before accepting both, handing him back the glass half full once you were done.
“Thank you.” Regulus whispered gently, kissing your forehead and bringing your tray to the kitchen.
“I’m sorry we scolded you, dovey.” Remus whispered into your cheek, causing new tears to fall. “We just worry; you know that, right?”
“Yeah.” You whimpered, and even you could tell it was sort of pathetic.
“Oh, my poor darling.” Remus cooed, standing from your side to climb in on the opposite side of the bed. 
“Don’t, Rem. I don’t want you to get sick.” You whined, though allowed your body to be pulled into his side.
“Tough.” He said simply, punctuating the sentiment with a kiss to your temple. “Then I’ll just get to call in sick too.”
You were sure the tears were mostly from exhaustion and discomfort, but you couldn’t seem to get them to stop.
“What’s the matter, hm?”
“I don’t feel good.” You whined.
“I know, babydove. I’m sorry.”
That’s how Regulus found you when he came back to the room; you crying into Remus’ shirt as he rubbed broad strokes up and down your back.
“Rem, we’re trying to bring her temperature down, love.” He admonished gently, though sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his own soothing strokes on your clammy arm. 
“You try denying this sweet girl her cuddles, Reg.” Remus responded.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before placing a cold wet cloth on your head. 
“I’m sorry you’re so poorly, amour. And I’m sorry if we made it worse.” He apologized. 
You quickly shook your head (which you immediately regretted as the nausea threatened to return). “You didn’t; you don’t.”
“I upset you though, I’m sorry. I’m too rough sometimes.” Regulus admitted, sounding almost as teary as you. Remus tsked and reached one of his hands over you to take Regulus’ hand.
“I know what you’re thinking, love, and you’re wrong.” Remus insisted. “And I know you’re wrong, because your parents wouldn’t have fussed over you at all when you were sick; so there’s no way you could be acting like them right now.”
The fact that Regulus had spent any amount of time worrying that he’d been too harsh with you, that he’d been at all like his awful parents caused your few tears to turn into true crying.
“I’m sorry Reggie.” You cried, turning to look at him. His brows furrowed dramatically, and he looked just as close to crying. “If you weren’t here; I’d be sitting in bed with no food, no medicine, no cloths, and no love.”
“Well, you maybe would have had some love.” Remus argued from your other side.
“I would’ve died.” You insisted.
One tear did fall from Regulus’ eye as he smiled sadly at you. “I just hate to see you so poorly, amour. You should always be happy and lovely.”
“I am. I’m better when you’re here.” You insisted.
“How dare you insinuate that our sweet darling girl could ever possibly be not lovely, Regulus. Absolute blasphemy.” Remus scolded, causing both you and Regulus to chuckle. 
“Terribly sorry, you two. I seem to have forgotten myself.” He laughed, turning the cloth over on your head and trailing his fingers down your jaw to massage at your neck. 
“Don’t let it happen again.” Remus instructed.
You fell asleep to the sound of Regulus promising that he wouldn’t. 
456 notes · View notes
peterparkersnose · 1 year
Text
I Fall In Love Too Fast
Part 2 to ‘Jealousy, Jealousy’
pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
word count: 6.2k (I fed you guys well!)
warnings: implied age gap, carrot penis reference if you squint, Y/N is a greenhouse girlie, mutual pining, use of y/n, fluff, alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, mentions of pregnancy, borderline bullying, stalking, attempting break in, violence, angst, description of blood (sort of), consensual cuddling, joel can’t tell his veggies apart (edited sort of)
a/n shaking rn i need to see cocaine bear asap
summary Y/N and Joel have an unlikely meeting in Jackson’s greenhouse. 
masterlist
join the tag list
read time: 22 mins 43 seconds
Tumblr media
The low hums of the generator filled your ears. The greenhouse could be very peaceful at times. Something you couldn’t explain drew you to the plants. Ever since you were a child, your friends from the old QZ you grew up in would always question why you would rather read the old book about botany you found than play tag.
When you were presented with the opportunity of working in the greenhouse in Jackson, you were more than happy to accept the position. All the vegetation calmed you for some reason. It was a sense of control in this crazy world. It was almost like it was normal inside that tented space.
After a few years of living in Jackson, Maria decided to appoint you as head greenhouse keeper. You had proved your success throughout the years, the vegetation grew by over 35% (according to Maria, stats were never your thing).
It had been a few days since you had seen Joel. It was a quick, longing goodbye early in the morning. He wanted to make sure you were home before Bradley would have to wake up. The thought of your… ex? You weren’t even quite sure yet. But the thought of him made you want to vomit. And the thought of Joel made you feel… well, safe.
The music coming from your walkman began to skip. The old CD player was old in the time cordyceps started, but nevertheless it trudged on through the pandemic. CD’s were rare, but they were often traded in the community. Currently, Frank Sinatra’s greatest hits skipped through your headphones. Ellie’s CD, presumably from Joel. You didn’t take Ellie for a big Sinatra fan. The thought of having something of his with you made the music just a little bit sweeter.
The song “I Fall In Love Too Easily” began to play clearly through the headphones. You had the headphone jack placed in just the right angle. Ignoring everything else in the world, you swayed to the music slowly as you were washing off the carrots in the sink. As the song continued, you began to hum along with the tune. The song was new to you; the lyrics weren’t mastered in your brain yet.
***
Joel trudged down the muddy streets of Jackson. Tommy and Maria were having a get together that night, and he stupidly agreed to help. Maria requested him to go to the greenhouse to pick up some produce. After Maria’s pushing and adamancy, Joel finally agreed to go. He was suspicious on why he had to go and why Maria just couldn’t go herself, but he decided to leave the possible argument alone and just do what he was told. He wanted to stay back and help Tommy with the roast anyways. That was his specialty. Back in Texas, Joel would make the best damn barbecue in the neighborhood.
Hell, he had never even had to go to the greenhouse before. He was perfectly content on living off of canned beans and coffee. And it was Sunday; the one day everyone had off. The greenhouse was sure to be abandoned, meaning he would have to forage for the produce himself. Did he know the difference between a zucchini and a cucumber? Hell no. Not even when life wasn’t shit he couldn’t figure that out.
Maria smirked as herself and Tommy watched Joel slump down the street. Joel was reading off the slip of paper Maria had written down directions on to the greenhouse. “The only person crazy enough to be workin’ on a Sunday is Y/N, if anyone is there.” Tommy said. “Why do you think I sent him?”
They both gave each other conniving looks.
“You saw the way he acted at the Tipsy Bison earlier this week,” Maria said, sucking her teeth and turning around to tend to her stew. “Don’t you want him to be happy?” She called back to Tommy. He shook his head at his wife’s antics and returned to the roast.
***
Joel let out a scoff as he realized he knew exactly where he was going. The big, white tent that sat on the edge of Jackson. Embarrassingly, he made his way towards the big landmark he mistakenly used to take for a medical ward. To his surprise, the lights were on.
Joel gave the door a few knocks before he opened it, not to freak out the possible worker who could have been behind the door. He quietly slipped in. He brushed some of the mud off his boots as he opened the second door.
A rush of heat hit his face. His eyes scoured the large facility in look for a person. And right then is why he realized Maria was so damn adamant about him going to the greenhouse. 
Your hair was tied up like it was the night you stayed at his house. He recognized the flannel you had on as his own. Your jeans and boots were a classic look that almost every woman had around town. What he didn’t expect was the headphones and walkman clipped to your jeans.
Soft humms came from you. Joel was feeling conflicted; his ego couldn’t allow him to feel this way about you. But the way you do gracefully moved your hips and cleaned those carrots drove him nuts. The thought of you in his kitchen, the two of you cooking together brought warmth to the bitter man’s heart.
Bringing himself back to reality, he looked at the list Maria had scratched down for him. Maybe you could help him find a… butternut squash? He didn’t know there was more than one type of squash.
He stood in the entrance and waited for you to notice him; but you never did. You were so invested in that little sink that you never bothered to look his way. Joel took a deep breath, realizing he was going to have to get your attention.
The fearless man began to tremble with anxiety. He cautiously walked over stray hoses and tried to keep his footsteps on the louder side, so you could maybe hear he was coming.
You yelped as he tapped your shoulder. The carrot you were holding in your hand fell into the sink.
“I’m sorry I-”
“Oh thank god, it’s just you.” you said out of breathe, holding your hand to your chest. “Scared the shit out of me,”
The music played through the headphones as you wrapped the cord loosely around your neck. It played long enough for Joel to recognize the song.
“Sinatra?” he asked, your music taste peaking his interest. You clipped the walkman to your belt, it now rested against the black shirt you had his flannel loosely on top of. “Ellie loaned it to me,” you said, grabbing a towel and drying your hands.
“Must be mine then,” Joel tittered, nervously playing with the piece of paper in his grip. Your eyebrows raised in question, ignoring the confirmation of your previous theory. “I loaned it to her a few months back, thought she must’ve lost it but… I guess not.”
“Do you want it back? Here, you can…” you nervously said, struggling to get the walkman out of your belt loop. “Keep it, really. You seem to like it more than me.” he said, again. “Oh, I have this-” you said, beginning to strip the oversized flannel off your body. “Here,” you said, balling up the flannel and reaching it out to Joel. “Nah, it looks better on you than me. Trust me,” he said, awkwardly refusing the gift of his own belongings.
He could imagine drunk you saying “He said it looked better on me,” as you did a few nights ago in his bed when he called you ‘pretty girl’.
Why was he giving his things to you?
You wrapped the flannel around your waist. “What can I help you with?”
He outstretched the paper to you.
“Maria’s cookin’?” you asked, walking past Joel with the confidence that you knew where you were going. Obediently, he followed you.
“Some stew or something, she says it’s good but…” Joel said, sucking in air sharply. “Not so good?” you smirked, reaching a planter and looking up at him. He shook his head no but then said “It’s delicious,” in a forced, sarcastic tone.
You pulled out the first vegetable and handed it to Joel. Moving along, you moved to the next planter.
“Is that what your doin’ tonight?” you asked him, going through the pea pods trying to pick out the best ones. “Yup.”
He stood for a second in silence as he felt like something was missing. “Would you like to come?” he asked, praying Tommy wouldn’t kill him and Maria’s stew would taste better than it did last time.
Your heart sank because you already had plans. “I’m so sorry,” you began. Joel’s face turned bright red.
He was right. He was too old for all of this. You were just interested in being friends, maybe not even friends. He was so embarrassed, he was ready to go back in his house and never come out again.
“I promised Ellie and Dina I would come over tonight. Have a little sleepover, if you could call it that. Definitely need a rain check though, I would love to some other time.”
That damn kid stole his date.
“Oh, yeah. No worries.” he said, the rejection ruining his confidence.
“I mean it though, rain check.” you said, piling more veggies into his grasp. That built back some of his shattered rizz.
You made your way to the front of the greenhouse, getting ready for the last produce. Potatoes.
You chuckled as you looked behind you. Joel’s presence seemed to fall back. He was struggling to keep all the produce in his hands.
“Would you like a bag?” you asked, slowly moving towards the woven bags hanging on the wall. “Would be nice,” he awkwardly chuckled, grabbing a falling bunch of broccoli from his hands.
“Here,” you said, opening the bag in front of him as he layed everything in. “Shit,” he mumbled as a stray carrot stalk fell. You both bent down to retrieve it.
His hand accidentally layed on yours for a brief second. It should have been a minuscule moment, but time seemed to freeze. You looked up into his gaze as you both stood up, still both holding the carrot. You never wanted this moment to end.
“Potatoes?” Joel asked. Trapped in his gaze, you answered “Huh?”
“Don’t I need a few potatoes?”
You blinked a few times, bringing yourself back into reality. “Uh, yeah. Follow me.” you said, trying to calm your heavy breathing. You could almost feel your heartbeat pumping out of your chest.
The green tops of the potatoes reached out of the grass. Inspecting each top, you slowly and carefully made your decision. “You sure know what your doin’,” Joel commented as you looked up at him from the leaves. “Botany is my passion,”
“By the way your looking at those potato stems, I believe you.” “Maria’s stew has to be good this time. I can tell this one is a good one because of how thick the leaves are. The bugs haven’t gotten to it yet because it’s in the middle, you see. They are full grown, these are the ones planted around the spring. There full grown and…”
You looked up at Joel and found him with a sly smile. “I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
“I like ramblin’. Could listen to it all day.”
He wanted to say he could listen to you all day; Even if all you talked about was potatoes.
“At least someone enjoys my rambling.”
Memories of Bradley point blank telling you to shut up because you were explaining how herbs could be used in medicine once plagued your mind. Then, the memory of his face bloodied scurrying on the bar floor replaced those. And you felt that warm feeling again, safe with Joel in the greenhouse.
Selecting the perfect one from the middle row, you began to pull. And pull some more. “God dammit,” you muttered to yourself. Giving up, you moved some of the dirt around the root.
“Can you help?” you asked kindly, as pulling on it one more time was unsuccessful. Joel placed the bag of produce down and moved to a different angle.
You expected them to pull out easily when he went for them, but he was struggling too. “What you do to ‘em?” he asked, wiping his hands off on his jeans. “Locked in or something,”
You angrily decided to try pulling again.
“Let me,” he said. To your surprise, his hands came to your shoulders to ease the suspense of touch. Then, he moved forward bringing you into his embrace. His hands rested below yours. Your shoulders matched up almost perfectly with his broad chest.
“Ready?” he asked, his voice sending chills down your spine. You could tell how warm he was, even with the heat of the greenhouse making the both of you sweat. His arms flexed on yours as he began to pull the potatoes up along with your grip. He pushed back and you followed his grip. Within a few seconds, the potatoes freed from the dirt and sent the two of you flying backwards.
You two landed back first on the dirt ground. The feeling of his arms were still around you, he was still holding you on the ground. He had let go of the potatoes and they were thrown down the isle.
The two of you burst out in laughter, staring at the ceiling of the greenhouse. You genuinely didn’t want to leave this moment; and neither did he.
“I totally loosened it for you.” you bragged, sitting up and looking down at him. One hand rested under his head, the other layed comfortably on his stomach. “Sure ya did.”
He took your hand as you helped him up. His knees cracked, and he prayed that you didn’t hear it. The two of you made your way to the washing station at the other end of the greenhouse.
“Potato,” you said in a stern tone. He placed one in your hand. “Brush,” you requested. He handed you the brush. You turned on the water and scrubbed the dirt off the potatoes. “Towel,”
“Yes ma’am.”
The two of you laughed as he played along into your antics. He was standing so close that his hips seemed to connect with yours. “Is that the last one?” he asked, drying off the fifth potato. “Unfortunately,” you sighed.
“Your welcome back any time to wrestle some potatoes again, if you’d like.” you said, following him to grab his original bag of produce. “Why don’t we take on the corn next week?” he asked, not wanting to leave. He just knew Maria would be bombarding him with questions about what took so long.
“It’s a date!” you said, mostly serious but in a joking manner.
Dina froze at the door. Ellie was making homemade pizza for that night and sent Dina to get some tomatoes. She was frozen, peeping through the door she watched. Dina had just gotten a front row viewing of you and Joel struggling with the potatoes, your awkward impromptu cuddle on the ground, and the romantic potato washing.
As Dina saw the two of you finishing your… encounter, she made her way quickly to the side of the building.
Ellie is going to love this.
***
“Ellie, your never going to believe-”
“Where are my tomatoes?” she asked, disappointedly. Dina burst into the kitchen of their small house frantically. “Forget the tomatoes, El. You’ll never guess what I just saw.”
“What, another stray cat? For the last time, no stray cats.”
“Joel and Y/N.” she said astonished. She took a place on one of the barstools next to the counter.
“What about them?”
“No- Ellie. Joel and Y/N, they were cuddling in the greenhouse.”
Ellie looked up from her dough she was making. “Dina, did you breathe in some outhouse gas?”
“No! I promise you. I was going to get the tomatoes, but they were just laying there. Then they got up and washed potatoes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone wash vegetables so… sensually before.”
“I think your bullshitting me. Who cuddles in a greenhouse?” Ellie questioned, turning around and looking through the pantry. “Old stuff is going to have to do,” she sighed, pulling the old can of marinara sauce out from the back of the pantry.
“I wonder…” Dina began. “You remember how I told you about Bradley,”
“You remember how much I want Tommy to banish him?” Ellie reminded Dina. “Joel knocked that dude out!” Dina exclaimed.
“Yeah, but that’s just Joel being Joel. I’m sure he would do it for any one of us.”
“He walked her home!” Dina complained. “Your going to tell me there’s nothing going on there?”
“I think we should wait and ask Y/N. Not make assumptions,” Ellie sighed, giving Dina the side eye.
“They’d be cute, that’s all I’m saying.”
***
The sun was at the end of setting, the sky was a deep purple. You noticed Joel’s boot marks in the mud and how big they were compared to your feet. “Damn,” you whispered to yourself, stepping in one of his prints. Another pair of prints seemed to circle around the greenhouse. They were similar in size to your feet and had a different shape then the bottom of your shoes.
Following the odd marks, they moved to the side of the greenhouse. And then made a straight line towards where you were going: Ellie and Dina’s house.
“Oh no,” you sighed, following either Ellie or Dina’s footprints. You prayed one of them didn’t see you with Joel.
You tried to imagine Ellie’s reaction to it. What would there to be mad about? You were just friends with Joel. Even though you had admitted to yourself he was just your passing patrol crush about a year ago, you were taking things slowly with this new found interest.
And he was older than you, there was that. Adults can make adult decisions, you reminded yourself. You and Joel were both adults that had experienced a lot in life, even though yours was a bit shorter than his.
Would Ellie be mad? Her… Joel and her best friend (besides Dina of course). You shoved the idea to the back of your mind as you knocked on their door.
Dinner had an odd vibe to it. Dina had already had a few too many glasses of wine, and you were avoiding the alcohol at all costs. The other night was enough for this week.
“Your not drinking?” Ellie asked, chewing down on her pizza. “Nah,” you said, briefly commenting.
“What, you pregnant?” Dina laughed, filling her wine glass up again. You almost choked on your pizza. “God Dina, no.” you chuckled. “I haven’t fucked Brad in… four months? I think I would know by now.”
“Gross!” Ellie cringed. “I’m trying to eat!”
“Sorry, sorry.” you jokefully apologized. “Anything… new? With you know, Bradley?” Dina asked. Something was up with her.
“Not since Joel kicked him on his ass,” you said.
Dina gave Ellie a strange look. “Yeah, I remember. Did he get you home alright that night?” Dina asked. You swallowed a bit of your pizza. “Mhm,”
You hated lying to your friends. Without the truth, you felt miserable. You wanted to tell them all about Joel and how you have been secretly borderline obsessed with him since that night, but word getting back to Joel might scare him off. And you didn’t want Ellie to freak out.
“Then how come I didn’t see your porch light on when I left with Maria?”
You froze in your seat.
“I’m just fucking with you,” Dina teased, pushing her hand into your arm. “You like him though, don’t you.”
Lying is one thing you were never good at. “He’s a nice man.”
“You like him though, don’t you?”
The lack of response and the quickening of your breathe didn’t help your case. “Dina,” Ellie said, stepping in to Dina’s drunken antics.
“He took you to his house, didn’t he?”
“I…”
The whole town of Jackson seemed more quiet than usual. Ellie looked at your face and could see the panic. Her eyebrows rose as her stare widened, watching you squirm in your seat at Dina’s question.
“Holy fuck! Did you fuck Joel?” Ellie asked, now realizing the reality in Dina’s games. She was right; Dina totally saw you two at the greenhouse.
“No! No.” you defended yourself. That was the truth at least. “I… I didn’t want Bradley coming around and…”
“Oh my god,” Ellie said, standing up from the table. “We’re just friends! He’s a nice man Ellie, you know that.”
“Then why did I see you two cuddling in the greenhouse today?” Dina muttered from behind her wine glass.
You sighed and buried your head in your hands. So the shoe prints belonged to Dina.
“Y/N.” Ellie said sternly, standing at her place at the table and crossing her arms. “Tell me the truth.”
You grabbed Dina’s wine glass and took a large gulp.
“I- I like him, okay? I think he’s handsome, and kind and considerate. Everything Bradley isn’t and everything I deserve.” you said angrily, getting out of your seat and slamming it back in the table.
“Dina, your a dick when your drunk.” you yelled, grabbing your coat and heading for the door as Dina giggled at her spot.
“Y/N,” Ellie said, grabbing your hand. She closed her eyes and took a long breathe. “Your being for real?” Ellie asked, her look turned more sincere.
“As real as a bite,” you sighed.
***
The three of you, now in pajamas, sat in Ellie and Dina’s bed. Dina was braiding your hair as Ellie layed flat on her back and stared at the ceiling.
“Y/N Miller,” Ellie said out of the blue. Your head whipped over to where she was sitting, pulling your braid Dina was working on. “Jesus, El. A little too soon for that? I doubt it even,” you giggled. “In this world?” Dina asked. “I can lend you my white dress. With the embroidered flowers?” Dina suggested.
The memory of her embroidering those last summer resurfaced. “It is awful pretty,”
“And I can do your hair, hold on.” Dina said, undoing the braid she had been working on.
You felt her hands begin to work. “I just don’t know if he likes me back…” you sighed.
“Y/N. I know Joel. He wouldn’t just lay on the dirt floor with anybody.” Ellie assured you. “He barely speaks to anyone in Jackson as it is,”
“Would he even say anything? If he liked me?”
“Jesus, Y/N. This isn’t high school. Just tell him.” Ellie teased, sitting up in bed. “I’ll talk to him. Work some of my magic-”
“You better not!” you seethed, giving Ellie a glare. “Don’t embarrass me!”
“Ta da!” Dina announced, finishing putting a pin in your hair. You jumped off the bed and moved to the mirror.
It was in a low bun with a few stray hairs framing your face. It was so effortless and so elegant. “Dina,” you gasped, carefully cupping the bun with your hand. “I can make it ten times better, but just a thought.”
“I love it,” you gasped. “If I ever get married, you two are in charge of the wedding.”
***
Joel ate awkwardly at the table with Maria and Tommy in silence. The only noise in the whole house was the scratching of silverware.
“How was the patrol? Yesterday.” Maria asked both Tommy and Joel. “Alright,” they both said in unison. They definitely were brothers, men of very few words.
“Any news on the power plant improvement?” Tommy asked Maria. “I had some guys there today. So nice, working on their Sunday off.” she added.
“You know who works on Sundays?”
Joel’s fork stopped moving.
“I hear Y/N is running the greenhouse real nice.” Tommy said, already knowing the answer to Maria’s question.
“How was she, Joel?”
Joel looked up at Maria with a side eye. “Fine.”
“They’ve got blueberries now! Damn blueberries, I haven’t had any since before this shit. They were good,” Tommy mused, reminiscing on the delicious fruit.
“She’s a good chef too,” Maria commented. “Made some amazing salad dressing for the winter party a few weeks ago. Did you try her cookies too?”
“I remember,” Tommy added. “She’s gonna make a real nice wife some day.”
Joel’s fist hit the table a little too hard as he set down his glass. Both Tommy and Maria looked at him shocked.
“You alright?” Tommy asked.
“Can we change the subject?” Joel asked bitterly. “Why so angry? What’d she ever do to you?” Tommy pushed. “Goddamit Tommy,” he yelled, shoving his chair in.
“Thanks for the wonderful meal, Maria.” he hissed, lying and abruptly leaving their house. The picture frame on the wall shook a bit as he slammed the door.
“He’s down bad.” Tommy laughed. Maria sighed, her hands rubbing her temples. “Why do the two of you always seem to ruin a good night?”
“Hey, I barely did anything.” Tommy resisted with his hands in a defensive pose. “You know he likes her. The sheer mention of her makes him leave.” Maria commented. “God, I hope those two idiots find each other again. I don’t know how much more I can take of this.” Tommy sighed, chewing away at his roast.
It was dark outside now. Joel could hear the whisps of the wind blow in the trees. Creepy if you’d ask him, but Joel wasn’t afraid of much anymore. Almost all the houses were dark; with the exception of a few porch lights.
He turned down the main street and looked at all the lights still on. Maria’s guys must have fixed the power plant, pls business signs were flooding the street with their light. He glanced up at Ellie and Dina’s apartment; it was over one of the textile shops in the downtown department. The lights were out besides the one outside the entrance.
He took a double take when he saw someone standing out there.
Moving closer, he recognized the crouched down figure trying to pick their lock.
Bradley.
He reached the bottom of the old metal staircase before making himself known. He cleared his throat loudly.
“What in the hell are you doing?”
Bradley recoiled in fear, dropping the pocketknife on the metal landing. “It’s not what it looks like- I swear it Mr. Miller.”
“Then what does it look like?” he asked, slowly walking up each step. “I-I… Y/N invited me over. You know, lighten up the time with them. T-they had left over food she said.”
Bradley’s cowardly tone made Joel smile. He cracked a few of his fingers, intimidating Bradley farther and farther.
Joel knew Ellie. There was no way she would ever have leftovers; let alone invite anyone besides Dina to share them.
“You got about five seconds to tell me why-”
Joel was older and tougher, but Bradley was sly. He jumped up, grabbing the knife he dropped and swiped at Joel’s face with it.
Joel quickly ducked as fast as he could and kneed him in the gut. Bradley let out a loud oomf as Joel grabbed both of his hands and held them behind his back. “Nice try,” he whispered in his ear.
Now behind Bradley, Joel gave him a rough push down the metal stairs and took great pleasure in watching him flail down.
Unfortunately, the front door flung open and he was met with a shot gun to his face. He sighed, waiting for Ellie to realize who it was.
She cautiously lowered the gun as she recognized Joel’s face in the dim light.
“I taught you too well,” Joel sighed, moving the barrel of the gun out of his range.
“What’s wrong?” Dina asked, peeking out from behind the wall. You weren’t far behind her, hopping on your tippy toes to see what the matter was.
“You fucking fuck!” Bradley yelled from the ground. He was rolling around, clutching his leg. “You broke my leg, you asshole!”
Ellie looked at Joel in confusion. “Caught your peepin’ Tom on my way home.”
Emerging from behind Dina, you recognized those two voices from anywhere.
“Joel?”
His eyes met yours.
“Y/N, I dunno if you wanna look.” Joel advised. Ellie stepped out of the way as you poked your head out the door. A small gasp came when you saw your ex laying on the concrete. “Bradley, what the fuck!” you yelled.
“Please, Y/N. Take me back, I promise to treat you better than that old, violent grandpa!” He yelled, still in a ball on the ground. Joel let out a small breath of air from his nose. ‘Grandpa is really the best you got?’ he thought to himself.
“Your fucking pathetic.” you called back down to him. “How did he know I was even here?” you said, turning around to ask Ellie. She shrugged. Your hands began to tremble. “Hey, hey.” Ellie said, recognizing the panic arising in you.
She gestured for Joel to come in. She flicked a lamp on as you sat on the couch. “I can go get Tommy and a few other guys, we can deal with him.” Joel suggested.
Ellie looked at you for confirmation. Your eyes darted from her to Joel and back to her. She knew what you needed in that time. You needed him.
“Let me and Dina go get Tommy. I doubt Brad is going anywhere anytime soon.”
Joel opened his mouth to resist, but then saw you shaking on the couch. He knew Ellie was more than capable of fucking this guy up, and he rather stay with you. Even if the fucking up of Bradley sounded oh, so appealing.
“Alright.” he nodded, watching the two girls pull on their coats.
“May I?” he asked, outstretching his hand referencing to the couch spot next to you. You nodded your head. He sat next to you, not touching you. Joel was unsure of how to approach this.
“Joel?” you asked, turning to look at him. Your breathing was shaky and your eyes were glossy. “Yes?”
Without his consent, you moved closer to him on the couch. Your thighs were touching. The need for him to hold you right then was strong.
Joel let out a sigh of relief as he took your invitation of affection. His arm wrapped around your shoulder. You found comfort in his body, cuddling in and moving your arms closer to your body as he held you.
“Everything is alright,” he re assured you, taking his thumb and started slowly running circles into your shoulder.
“I’m sorry about what he said.” you sighed. “What- the grandpa comment? Pfft,” Joel chuckled. Your body moved against his as he laughed. “Doesn’t even phase me.”
“Well, he’s wrong.” you said. Joel looked down at you. “About what?”
“There is no way he could treat me better than you.”
A soft smile rose to Joel’s mouth. He wished he could hold you like this every night. The sweet smell of the rationed out shampoo filled his senses as he took another deep breath.
“Your damn right,” Joel whispered, leaning down and placing a soft kiss to the top of your head. Your arm stretched along his torso, holding him tightly as the sounds of Bradley’s wails came from below.
***
At least an hour had passed. You had dozed off, leaving Joel alone in Ellie’s apartment. You were still connected to Joel at the hip, but your grip had loosened on his waist.
He looked down at you adoringly. He thought of almost every scenario as he waited for Ellie and Dina to return.
He had to ask you out. He wasn’t quite sure how, he figured Tommy could maybe give him some pointers. Or maybe Ellie, she seems to know what women like. And then dating you. He wanted to take you out to the fields outside of Jackson. A nice picnic maybe, you two could maybe bring some food from the greenhouse. He remembered how when he was a child he used to eat cucumber sandwiches (there better than they sound, trust me).
You could teach him the difference between a zucchini and a cucumber. You could be that balance in his life; something he had been searching for since he was a teenager.
He noticed your hair was in a falling out low messy bun. He imagined a veil coming out from it, and a luxurious white gown on you. Sure, he was getting ahead of himself. Little did he know you were discussing the topic of marriage just hours prior.
The fantasies about a lavish, non infected world wedding were diminished as Ellie and Dina made their way through the door.
“Shh,” Joel said, silencing their conversation.
“Aww,” Dina said, still a little tipsy from the night before.
“You should take her home. Bradley won’t be bothering her anymore.” Ellie said sternly. Joel noticed the bloodied knuckles on Ellie’s hand. Dina placed her baseball bat next to it’s resting place at the door.
“Hey,” Joel whispered, rubbing your shoulder. You groaned, holding him tighter. “Good morning,” you muttered. “Still night time, doll. Let’s get you home.”
You slowly woke up in Joel’s embrace. The scent of him sent you back to the first night you spent in his bed. “You wanna go home?” he asked you again. “No,” you protested.
“I’m sober,”
Joel looked at you in confusion. “Remember? ‘Talk to me when your sober’, or something like that?”
The memory clicked in Joel’s mind.
“I want to stay with you.”
Joel couldn’t resist. He helped you up from the couch. He grabbed your jacket from the coat rack and helped you put your arms through your sleeves.
“Is that a yes?” you asked him as he silently closed Ellie and Dina’s door. He sighed. “Sure,”
Walking hand and hand down the abandoned street, you began to humm the Frank Sinatra song from earlier that day. Joel listened to your sweet tune the whole way home.
As you reached his house, you kept the tune going again and again. Joel led you to his bedroom with his hand in yours. His alarm clock read a little after three.
“Get comfy,” he said, throwing his jacket in the corner. You dropped your jacket, leaving it by the bedroom door with your boots. All that was left was your jeans and your black tank top.
“You don’t care if I slip into something more comfortable, do you?” he asked. “Not at all.”
Joel stared at you awkwardly. “You want me to go to the bathroom or…”
“It’s your house. I don’t mind,” you said, boldly sliding off your jeans and kicking them into your pile. Your gray underwear was left on as you sat on the edge of his bed.
“Alright,” he chuckled, adoring your boldness. His pants came off and hit the ground with a thud. His heavy belt buckle made the noise. He opened a drawer and took out a pair of red flannel pajama pants.
“Look! They match the flannel,” you exclaimed.
He turned around, completely enamored by you. Your excitement, your pep, and everything else about you was just what he was lacking in his life. For the first time in years, Joel felt himself feel genuinely happy. It was scary for him, but he was ready to let go.
“Can I just say…” he said, walking up to you sitting on his bed. His right hand slowly cupped your left cheek. His thumb slowly, softly ran across your cheek. “You really do look better in the flannel in than me.”
He slowly bent down, giving you enough time to resist. To his surprise, you began to rise off the bed and connected your lips with his. Rising off the bed, you continued the kiss as you both took a few steps. His hand reached around your waist, finding a comfy spot on the bottom of your back. Your hands had moved to his hair, slowly playing with the locks in your fingers.
“I’ve been waiting for you to do that,” you smiled, still in his embrace.
Joel’s body melted into yours. “I… I really…” he struggled to say. “‘I really’ you too,” you said, expressing to him that it was okay to be afraid. But you were there, and was ready for anything at any pace. His soft eyes seemed relieved at the confirmation of the now mutual feelings.
“Let’s get some sleep, hm?” you asked, sitting back down on the bed and breaking from his embrace.
His body held yours. Joel’s arms protectively kept you in his embrace. The four legs intertwined and kept each other warm underneath the blanket. You pushed into his figure, making yourself feel more secure than ever.
As he held you in bed, the tune began to sing again in your head. In a before sleep epiphany, you remembered the lyrics.
“But I still fall in love too easy, I fall in love too fast,” you whispered. Joel’s head burrowed in the nape of your neck. A tiny kiss was placed there in confirmation of what he had just heard.
Happiness consumed the both of you.
tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @rosie0611 @vivalasv3gan
3K notes · View notes
cosmiiwrites · 1 month
Note
see u wanted adam requests so here i am!!
i’m utterly obsessed with this man and i barely see any fanfics with him showing his clingy side ( cus we all know he would be clingy as shit ) i was wondering if u could write something about his clingy side, maybe even him opening up about how he’s insecure cus two of his wives left him???? and then reader assured him that they wouldn’t leave him like they did
- 💌 anon
·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ clingy
⁺˚⋆。°✩ adam x gn!reader ✩°。⋆˚⁺
Tumblr media
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ summary: in which adam shows his clingy side cw: gn!reader, fluff, comfort, cussing a/n: AAA clingy adam canon!! also if you sent in a request im probably working on it rn adam adored you, you knew that. everyone did. and i mean EVERYONE. wherever you went, he was never far behind. he hates having to see you go somewhere without him, how anything could happen to you, and how he wouldnt be able to be there. so when adam is with you, he needs to have his hands on you all the time. whether it be holding your hand, holding your waist, it didnt matter. as long as he was near you. not to mention how he would glare at everyone who tried to start a conversation with you, driving them away and probably making them create a mental note to never talk to you again. safe to say this man was clingy as hell. dont get me wrong, you arent complaining. in fact, you loved how clingy adam was. it was just confirmation that he wasnt going anywhere. however, you had to admit you were a bit curious. but every time you'd try mentioning how he was so clingy, he'd quickly change the topic. huh. unfortunately for adam, you weren't one to give up easily. you'd pry and pry until one day, he finally caved. "ugh, jesus, fine! i'll tell you, just for the sake of you shutting the fuck up.” adam groaned.
“back in eden, that bastard lucifer had stolen both of my wives, not like you don't know the story…” adam’s voice trailed off, but his bravado quickly returned after clearing his throat. “it fucked me up, real bad.” he admitted. your chest ached with guilt, maybe you shouldnt have brought up the subject.
“and everytime you’re not around me, i—i start to worry that maybe, someone like him would take you from me. or heaven forbid, the bastard himself.” adam looked away in embarrassment, large wings hovering in an attempt to cover himself.
oh. you took a second to acknowledge that the arrogant, cocky, egomaniac adam just admitted an insecurity of his.
“oh, adam,” you sat next to him, gently tugging at his wing to reveal his face. “it’s fuckin’ stupid, i know.” the yellow eyes of his mask looked down in shame.
you hated his mask, it hid his face, the face you loved so dearly. when met with no resistance, you removed adam’s mask, your gaze meeting with dark golden eyes.
“i’d never leave you,” you cooed gently, one hand running through his hair, the other cupping his face. adam’s face tilted to where you placed your hand, leaning into your touch. “i wouldn’t even think about it. i love you, adam.” he pulled you into his lap, where you would hug him tightly. adam sighed contentedly, kissing your forehead.
“i love you more.”
416 notes · View notes
buckyalpine · 11 months
Text
Needy Dark!Bucky
Feel like I should issue a warning for this - PLS scroll all the way past this if this isn’t your thing. Maybe this should have stayed in the drafts or be deleted. But I can’t help the absolute headlock, deception, corruption, dub con, mommy and innocence kink has on me rn. 
This is fucked and dirty. 
Heed the warnings. 
Please. 
Imagine dark!Bucky taking advantage of your sweetness. You’re so soft and kind with him, helping him adjust to the new world, hardly realizing he’s damn well adjusted already and doesn’t need anyone to baby him.
But he loves when you do.
Maybe it’s because of all the shit he’s been through, touch starved, deprived of care and softness, that’s how he justifies the need to be utterly babied and taken care of by you. Fuck you’re so soft when you do it, cooing and walking him through everything, as if he doesn’t know a thing, he’s poor little fried brain.
It started with him pouting at dinner, happy to have you feed him instead. Sometimes you help him wash his hair so the shampoo doesn’t sting his eyes, sitting on the edge of the tub with a bowl of water, not minding one bit your clothes would get wet in the process. You even hold him in his sleep like a little boy because his nightmares are so scary. 
He’d taken to calling you mommy when no one else was around. 
But then he wanted more.
So much more.
“Mommy, it’s hard” he frowns with puppy eyes, standing at the doorway in just his boxer briefs', hair still dripping from the shower. His cock is straining against the fabric from the way you had massaged his scalp and gently rinsed with conditioner; the entire time you helped him, he wanted to pull your hand off his head and have you shove them down his shorts. 
“Aww, Jamie” You don’t want him to feel embarrassed over something natural, getting up and taking his hand, sitting him down on the bed, “it’s normal baby, are you feeling little right now?”
Daddy is feeling a lot of things, mommy
You’d noticed he’d slip into a different headspace when it was just you and him though you didn’t mind. He deserved a safe place to heal and relearn everything in a way that helped him. 
How he loved it. 
“A little” he shrugs, “Why is it hard?” He asks innocently, palming himself, whimpering at the feeling, spreading his legs more. He lets out a surprised moan when his hand brushes over his clothed cockhead, feigning innocence, touching himself there more at the foreign sensation. 
“Help me mommy” he takes your hand, placing it on his raging cock, “Please? Hurts, how do I make it normal” 
“Um-” You bit your lip, unsure of how to answer his questions while he continued to confusedly touch himself, rubbing his erection. “You- 
“It’s getting harder, why is my thinggy so hard” 
Go on mama, tell me why my cock is so fucking hard
“It happens sometimes baby, it’s normal though” You cup his cheek trying to comfort and reassure him. That isn’t enough for him though. 
“What-what do I call it?” He pouts, smirking on the inside, proud of his fat fucking cock that hes imagined in your hand, your mouth, your tight little pussy-
“How about we just call it your special spot for now, hm?” You rub the side of his thigh to see if helps ease him but his cock twitches instead, thigh muscles tensed under your finger tips. 
Wonder what you’d actually call it, come play with my special spot, mommy 
“Mommy, its getting wet” He looked like he’s going to cry and you can’t help but want to help him in some way, hushing him gently. 
“Okay, let me see baby” You sit across from him between his wide spread legs. He slips his thumbs into the waistband of his brief's, just enough to free his cock, his thick curved length slapping against his tummy. He pouts again, looking down at the leaky pink tip, his balls full and heavy, every part of him wishing he could just stuff himself into your cunt but he has to do this carefully. 
He’d get that eventually. 
After all, you’d never deny your baby boy. 
“Mommy is going to help you, okay?” You carefully wrap your hand around his shaft, stroking his cock up and down, focused on taking care of him, not once noticing the dark gaze he has on you while you work at his length. “You okay, Jamie?” 
“It’s all tingly, it feels good mommy” His cheeks are flushed, hips every so slightly rocking up into your hand, meeting your strokes. He only lets out soft little whimpers and babbles but his mind is screaming everything else.
That’s it mama, stroke my fucking cock. 
Jerk my dick, get all my cum out, balls are so heavy right now
Would paint that pretty face if I could, you’d look gorgeous covered in my cum
What daddy wouldn’t give to have you slobber and suck his “special spot” 
Bet your cunt is tight as fuck, wish you were a slut sometimes mommy, I’ll make you a whore soon
“I- I feel something” he pants out, pearls of precum beading at the tip, dribbling down over your fingers. You avoid stroking him too fast or hard, not wanting to overstimulate him, avoiding the tip of his cock. “It’s getting so wet, I’m making a mess” He looks down at the head of his cock with glassy eyes, another dribble of silky liquid coating your fingers. 
“You’re gonna be sensitive there baby, it’s okay, that’s just how your special spot is support to be, okay?”
“Touch- can you touch the pink part?” He whispers shyly, letting out a high pitched white when you twist your wrist around his glistening cockhead, “Don’t stop, keep touching me there” He pleads and you shift closer to him, cooing while he squirms. He takes advantage of how close you are to him, pulling you to his side and hiding his face against your neck. 
“Mommy, it feels good, I feel something-I-it feels heavy down there-” He lets his hand go down to his balls, tugging at them, sighing happily when you pull his hand away and gently cup them instead, softy massaging them with just the right pressure. 
“You can let it all out, let go Jamie, it’s okay, let it all out” You start to stroke him faster, more focused on the tip just like he asked, kissing his temple while he continues to shy away from you. 
“Let it out?” He pulls away and gives you a confused expression, seemingly not understanding, his body still thrusting into your hand while you grip him a little harder. 
“There’s gonna be lots of stuff that comes out, okay? It’ll help you feel better, I’ll clean you right up after baby, just let it all out” 
Damn right m’gonna cum hard for you, babydoll, not gonna hold back a single drop
He moans against your neck, body covered in sweat, rutting into your hand while you twist around the tip, his cock growing harder. 
“AH-MOMMY!” He practically wails, cum shooting out in hot white streams, his whole body shuddering and trembling, and endless stream of his cream getting the dark curls at the base of his cock all wet and messy. “OH MOMMMY-it’s -it’s so much”  You whisper sweet nothings to him, telling him he was so good, carefully removing your hand, letting his throbbing length slap against his belly. 
He knows he already got what he wanted but he can’t help himself, wanting just a bit more, putting his sweet pout back on, looking at you with teary eyes. 
“Kiss it better?” He’s tugging you close again, bucking his hips up a little to where he wants attention, “Please” He pleads, his softening cock still dripping with cum. 
C’mon mommy, lick me up, just suck it a little 
You know how needy he can get, and your heart hurts thinking about how different his body must be feeling, overwhelmed and overstimulated. You hush him again with a kiss to his forehead before moving down to give him affection where he needed it. His eyes grow wide, biting back a smirk, gripping the sheets to make sure he didn’t shove your head down.  
“Oh kiss it better mommy” He moans, back arching off the bed when your soft lips brush on top of his tip, pecking the sweetest comforting kiss on his frenulum, making his body jolt. 
Just put it in your mouth
“Can-can you do it again?” He asks innocently, chewing his bottom lip raw. 
“Just one more, then I have to clean you up” You place a firm kiss onto his now spent cock, before getting up and wiping him down, letting him spend the night cuddled to your chest. At some point, he asks to nurse and you can’t tell him no. He doesn’t waste a second taking your top off and latching onto your nipple, hitching his leg over you while his lips suckle. 
Sometimes you have a feeling in the back of your mind, wondering if he truly has no clue what’s happening. Then he looks at you with such innocence, there’s no way, not with those baby blue eyes and sweet pouty pink lips. 
How could you ever doubt him. 
-
On the other hand, imagine one day he catches you in an intimate moment with your hands between your legs, not realizing he was still home. He goes feral on the inside but on the outside, he’s just a lost puppy who wants to know what your doing. You struggle to explain to him what was happening, not catching the flash of hunger that he’s struggling to hide while you’re now wrapped up in your sheet to cover yourself. 
All he knows is mommy was feeling like he was that day and had to take care of her private special spot too. With that cute button he’d love to suck. 
Should’ve asked me mommy, if only you knew how good my fingers are 
“It looks like my thinggy” He points out to your toy, which you snatch away and feel your body heating up further. “Mommy, can I put my special spot inside yours?” He doesn’t give you a lot of room to protest, pleading with you, showing you how hard he is again. 
He starts off with begging, rutting himself against you, humping you like an animal while you try to soothe him but it doesn’t work. He’s thrown his clothes off lying top of you with his bare cock against your folds, desperately rubbing himself, wanting to push it in. 
“Just the pink part, please, I need it, wanna empty everything, it’s leaking mommy” 
You don’t know how or when but at some point he presses his tip into you and shoves his entire length all at once, moaning loudly and thrusting without a care in the world. You’re body and might screams that something isn’t right, unable to stop the moans that slip out of you when he hits your cunt just right, pleasure trying to drown you from reality. 
Imagine the utter filth that spills from his mouth after while your blood runs cold, realizing something doesn’t add up.
“Mommy, your special spot feels so good, so good, so. fucking. good” 
“I wanna fuck you all night mommy, your pussy is perfect”
“I touched myself thinking about you and how you stroked my dick baby, wished you would’ve just sucked my cum out instead. 
“Oh fuck, you’re tight, choking my cock baby, make me wanna bust in you so bad” 
“J-James?” You whisper, eyes growing wide, how the fuck did he know those words, what was happening. Bucky loses himself in how good you feel, no longer giving a fuck. “What-what are you saying-”
“It’s Jamie” He lets out a dark chuckle, mocking your sweet tone, dropping the act, now that he’s deep in your cunt. “Your Jamie’s cock” 
“Cock?” 
“Yeah, cock mama, my cock in your little special spot” 
Bruh I’m so sorry tf is wrong with me 💀
3K notes · View notes
nanawritesit · 4 months
Text
Jungkook Imagine: Taking Care of Him When He Gets Sick From Playing with Bam in the Rain
Tumblr media
a/n: i think i might have accidentally deleted the actual request for this when i was cleaning out my ask box, but i know for a FACT it was requested 😤 it’s been on on my to do list for a while now, and i miss him sm rn, so here it is :)
TW: sick!jungkook, it’s just a cold but he’s kinda whiny, living together, mentions of food
—————
“Jeon Jungkook, you get back here right now!” you screeched from the back porch steps. It was pouring down rain and chilly, but you were safely tucked under an awning with one of your boyfriend’s sweatshirts on.
“Don’t worry, honey!” he yelled back, chasing his pet doberman all around the backyard. “Bam loves the rain!”
“It’s not Bam I’m worried about!” you retorted. “You’re not wearing a coat or hat, and you’re gonna get sick!”
“I’m not going to get sick!” he argued, putting his hands on his hips sassily. “Don’t worry about me! Just go back inside, I’ll be there in a bit. I just want to make sure Bam gets some exercise in.”
You rolled your eyes and turned back around to walk into your shared apartment. Songie and Paengie, your other two greyhounds, cocked their heads at you as you entered the living room.
“Kids, your daddy is an idiot.” you sighed, petting their heads.
—————
“Ugghhhh….” you heard your boyfriend moan from his bedroom.
You laughed to yourself as you finished preparing his soup. Oh how you loved being right.
Picking up the bowl and a big glass of water, you made your way down the hall to where he laid in his bed, bundled up in a million blankets.
“There’s my beautiful nurse…” he beamed with a crooked smile when he looked up and saw you. All three dogs perked up from their places on the bed, looking at you with wide eyes.
You gave him a warm smile and sat down on the bed next to him. “I made you some chicken noodle soup. And here’s some water, you’ll need to stay hydrated.”
“You’re the best, baby.” he pouted affectionately, sitting up to take the bowl from you. He winced as he did so. “Ah, it hurts to move…”
“Your muscles are just weaker because your body’s trying to fight off the infection.” you explained with a small smile.
“Is that why I’ve been so tired?” he asked, eyes sparkling innocently. You would think he’d never been sick before.
You nodded in confirmation. “You’ll need to get lots of rest to get better.”
He blew on a spoonful of the soup, then ate it slowly. His eyes squinted shut at the warmth and comfort of the meal. “This is so good. Literally the best thing you’ve ever cooked for me.”
You scoffed dramatically. “Ouch, thanks darling.” you grumbled sarcastically.
“No, I didn’t mean it like that!” he pleaded, reaching for your hand. “I just meant that it’s really touching that you’d take the time to make me soup while I’m sick!”
“I know, baby.” you shushed him, brushing some of his hair back. “I was just teasing.”
He breathed a sigh of relief, going back to his soup. “That isn’t a very nice thing to do to a sick person.”
“Well, if you had listened to your partner, you wouldn’t be sick right now.” you quipped back, a satisfied smirk on your face.
“Yeah, you’re right…” he sighed in defeat. “I definitely learned my lesson.”
You grinned triumphantly. “Good boy. Have you been feeling any better?”
“Not really. My throat still hurts and my nose is runny.” he complained. “But having you take care of me makes me feel a bit better.”
You smiled, squeezing his hand. “It’s no trouble. I’m not heartless after all. Hearing you admit I was right is reward enough.”
He chuckled at your cheekiness. “If I wasn’t so sick right now, I’d kiss you.”
“Awh…” you pouted, rubbing his thigh comfortingly. “When you’re better you can give me the biggest kiss in the world.”
“That’s all the motivation I need.” he grinned hopefully.
“Alright then, finish your soup and water and go straight back to bed.” you instructed, ruffling his hair a bit before you stood up to leave. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“Yes, nurse.” he replied, giving you a theatrical salute.
You chuckled, then leaned forward to give him a quick kiss on the forehead.
“I love you, Y/N.” he whimpered as you opened the door.
You turned around momentarily to smile at him. “I love you too, baby. I hope you feel better soon.”
575 notes · View notes
inkyray · 11 days
Note
lazy messy high sex w virgin!reader or bestfriends w chris lol im so high rn so idk if anything im sayin makes sense lol have a gday
2.8k words
a/n: yall rlly fw the virgin bsf trope w chris huh, well you ask so i give!! here yall go enjoy, keep sending requests, do not be shyyy
Tumblr media
warnings/content ahead: drug use, weed, mentions of alcohol, high sex, smut, straddling so like cowgirl??, oral male!receiving, virgin!reader(again) x bsf!chris(again), wrote this in literally one sitting so beware for the possibility of it being fast-paced and a bunch of mistakes
NORMAL?
You were confusing to say the least. Everyone knew that every once and a while you liked to get high out of your fucking brain on weed and shrooms. Yet, they knew you were a virgin, which was an interesting combo.
It wasn't the vibe you gave off, in fact, it was the opposite. You were confident with a high sex appeal. People knew because you were open about it, never understanding the whole concept with feeling shameful about keeping your virginity.
That didn't mean you were completely pure, though. Although you have kept your virginity, you had still admitted to giving multiple blowjobs and handjobs, so you weren't completely inexperienced.
You were at home practically doing nothing when you got a message from your best friend, telling you to come over and bring some pre-rolled blunts. You almost jumped at the message.
Putting his ego and sex life aside, if someone were to ask you, you would call Chris a goody-goody, which would really piss him off. In your 10 years of knowing the kid, he'd refuse to do any drugs or alcohol. He was open with the fact he didn't want to consume anything that would alter his brain chemistry. You couldn't do anything but respect him, still offering him some every once and a while.
In that sense, you two were opposites. He was always banging some new girl while you were doing pot with the rappers of LA. But in every other aspect, you two were identical. People, even his triplet brothers, would point out how you were like a female version of him, and how it made sense that you two were so close.
You were practically thrilled Chris had requested such a thing, your mind racing at all the possibilities as to why he'd ask you to bring your stash.
Standing in front of his house, you search for your gifted spare key, opening the place up and announcing that you were here. You had to keep yourself from skipping through his house in pure utter excitement.
You freeze at the sight of Chris in his kitchen, fully expecting him to be in his room. Quickly, you throw him the plastic bag of pre-rolled blunts and joints. The same second Chris registered you here was the same second he caught the plastic bag of weed, catching it with one arm.
"Drive safely here?" He questions, opening the plastic bag. You grin, imagining how high Chris could get, how'd he be. "I didn't drive high, don't worry. I was waiting until I got here." You seat yourself on the kitchen island's stool, leaning yourself against the table as you watch him sniff the bag.
"Mm. Good." He hummed, his face expressionless. You immediately furrowed your eyebrows. "What's wrong?" You ask the moment you felt his vibe was off. He looked up at you, he was great at expressing his positive emotions, his negative ones? Not so much.
"A bunch of bullshit on the internet. People love to wake up and act all fucking dumb." He mutters, throwing the bag against the table, sliding it toward you. "Chris, how many time do I need to fucking tell you." You sigh, taking out a roll and your lighter.
"'Don't take that shit seriously.' Yeah, I fucking know. It's just hard when it's constantly in your face." His tone is aggressive and louder. You take a moment before asking, "Is that why you told me to bring these?" You gesture to the weed.
Chris nods, "Yeah. Before I fucking punch someone." He goes on to tell you about how Nick and Matt left to go do some influencer shit you didn't understand, seeing how the internet had gotten him so hostile, insisting it'd be good if they left him alone for a few hours. "They shouldn't be back until a long fucking while."
You smile, "Should be enough time for us to get high and out of this fucking world, am I right?" You hold up a fist for him to bump. He just stares at it. "Just light the fucking blunt." He groans. You grumble, "Come on Chris, seriously? You gonna leave me hanging?"
He sighs, fist bumping you. You then fist bump the air in victory, quickly going to light the blunts. You bring your roll immediately to your lips, watching Chris as you hesitantly hold his up. You huff the smoke out of your nose. "Are you sure, Chris?"
"I'm sure." He blows in, you watch as the paper burns as air gets sucked out of it. His puffing interrupted by a cough, smoke forcefully leaving his mouth as he coughs it all up. "Don't worry," you say "this is normal for your first time, try holding it in?" You suggest.
He glares at you. "What? I'm not the one who made you cough, tough guy." You shrug.
He holds it back up to his lips, looking at you the entire time as he sucks in softer this time. He manages to hold the smoke in and blow it back out, leaving both his nose and mouth. "Mmm." You buzzed, smoking from your roll. "Good boy." You sang as he blew some of the smoke at your face. You scrunched up your nose, laughing.
"I also brought my bong, by the way."
-
Your back was slumped flatly against his kitchen table, you hadn't bothered to leave his kitchen since you stepped in there.
You watched as smoke painted abstract lines across his ceiling, the light so bright it had your blinking hurt. Chris felt his mind pooling out of his ears as he sat on his couch in the living room, holding onto your bong.
"Should've brought the shrooms." He utters, finishing his blunt. Chris lost count of which one this was. You laughed slowly, "Slow down, druggie."
He turned his head, examining you laying on his kitchen table, "Hm, you comfortable?" You shake your head. "Not at all."
"Then come sit next to me, dumbass." He huffed, you slouched yourself off his kitchen table, feeling the cramp on your back beginning to form. You stretched quickly before plopping yourself beside him.
"You fuck with it?" You ask him, he turns to look at you, glassy blue eyes rimmed with red. It only makes you wonder what you look like. Your brain feels hot, and you direct it to his lips. You watch as he's about to puff some fog out, but quickly sucks it back in mouth and blows it out of his nose. "Heavy." He answers you, his voice a tone louder than a whisper.
He manspreads through his baggy black sweatpants as you sigh. "If I could go back in time to when I first got high like this, I would."
Chris nods slowly. "Like, try something new?" He questions, his voice more hoarse than when you got here.
"Yeah. New and addictive, as fucked up as it sounds. I don't want to regret it. Sort of like the same thing you're doing right now." You pat down the surface of your blunt on an ashtray, getting rid of accumulated ash.
It's a comfortable silence for a moment. There's not really much to say when you could barely feel your mind in your head.
"I have an idea in mind, but you're not gonna like it."
You're immediately intrigued, turning to look at him, raising a weak eyebrow. "Let's be honest, I'll probably fucking like it."
He hums, his voice purring in some sort of acknowledgement. "Let me fuck you?" He gets straight to the point, and you can't even say you're surprised. You back yourself away from him for a moment, taking him all in. You'd be the earth's biggest liar if you said you wouldn't take him right then and there.
"You'd be comfortable with that?" You draw out, watching his pink lips begin to form a response. "You're the virgin here, I should be the one asking you that."
He's right. You raise your gaze back to him. He blinks slowly at you, hair falling perfectly on his forehead as pieces continue to messily look longer than the others. His necklace glimmering lightly under the dimly lit living room as he looks at you lazily through his eyelashes. "I don't think there's any other time I'd like to lose my virginity than right now." You admit.
His smirk grows as he pats his lap. "Come here." You looked at him as you crawled onto his lap, straddling him as he put his blunt out. Sitting on him, his gaze darted everywhere on you, following from your eyes to the slope of your neck, melting to your chest.
"Don't be awkward." He ordered, grabbing the side of your face as he kissed your soft mouth. You kissed him back, your mind immediately going blank as he pulled away. "Already?" You whined before shutting up immediately. He kisses the curve of your jaw, trailing down your neck, giving you sloppy wet neck kisses, leaving your skin glistening with a layer of his spit, unknowingly grinding into his growing erection.
Without a question, he lifts your shirt off of you, you place it off to the side as he looks up at your red eyes. Tugging out your bra, he asks "Can I take this off you?"
You slip your hand into his pants, snapping at the elastic of his boxers. "Only if I take this off you." He grins, "We're getting there, baby." His voice low and jagged from everything he's been smoking, you feel yourself getting wetter, deciding to be the one who dives in for this kiss.
Without really meaning to, you give him an open-mouthed kiss, your lips immediately wrapping around his bottom ones and sucking gently on it, feeling him unclasp your bra as he sticks his tongue inside of you, slipping it off.
His fingers run themselves through your hair before transitioning to your bare skin, his palms sliding down the hill of your boob and grazing the dip of your waist before holding tightly onto your hips, holding you down as he pushes you back and forth onto his crotch.
You rhythmically grind yourself into him as he guides you, your kissing becoming less in order and more messy, more wetter. You both taste like weed, the smell fogging up the place around you and even your minds, every moment more intense and harsher, out of order yet perfect.
With a hand holding your hips hard enough to leave marks in the morning, his other hand uses two delicate fingers to brush down your spine, the tingling sensation sends a small shiver down your spine, arching your back to the touch. That same hand moving to the opposite side of your hips, caving into your leg and groping your thigh as he bites your lip when you went to take a break for a breath of air.
He whimpers your name, clearly more into this than you thought. You scatter off of him and he watches you confused, pressing down to his crotch. You shove his hands away, sitting  on your knees and you lean toward him. "You're so beautiful." He looks down at you as you take his sweatpants off, instinctively folding it and putting off to the side. That's how you knew you were high. "Let me suck your dick." You say in response to his compliment.
He plays with your hair, grabbing small strands and following it until he reaches the edge and they fall out of his grasp, repeating the action. "Thoughtful girl, hm." Chris mutters, he moans when you shove his boxers off and without warning, wrapping your lips around him.
Your tongue swirls around his tip before collecting all the leaking pre-cum from his hole, pressing your tongue in it which makes his hips buckle up. Your boobs graze softly against his legs as you let go for a moment, saliva drooping down his length as you spit at your palm, looking up at him as you begin to stroke him. He throws his head back, loud whimpers of your name slipping from his mouth. You continue your stroking as you bring the tip of him to your mouth once again, bopping your head up and down, matching the speed of you stroking as he grips the top of your head, pulling on your hair. "Fuck– I'm gonna– fuck!" He cums in your mouth and you pull away, strings of liquid managing to connect from him to your mouth as you swallow him down. 
"More?" You question once he's caught his breath, he looks down at you. "It felt like my virginity just got taken away from me." You laugh at his comment, grabbing a joint and quickly lighting it up for a quick puff. His eyes were still bloodshot, but you held the smoke in before you got closer to him, he opened his mouth, his eyes on yours as you blew the smoke straight into it. He sucked in the fog and released it through his nose.
You sat back on him, the only thing keeping your bare skin from touching was the pants you still haven't taken off yet. You brought the joint back to his mouth and he happily took a long drag. "Still a virgin, by the way." You remind him, licking your thumb and index finger, stinging the half-smoked joint light gone. "Right. Here for business aren't we?" He blows the smoke from his mouth, pointing it to his right so it wouldn't hit your face. "Damn straight." You nod.
"Nice tits, by the way."
"Chris just fuck me."
Your pants were off in seconds and you found yourself hovering right over him, hesitant to just fully take him.
"We don't have to." He trails, holding onto your waist, sure you were both high to the point of seeing stars, but he was still considerate. "I want to." You muttered, holding onto his shoulders as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. Your walls immediately clenched around him and it was almost painful, slowly but surely Chris helped you raise yourself as you raised his hips with you, your moans muffled out of your hearing capacity, hyper focused on his noises and the idea of fully thrusting with him.
"Want me to go slow?" He groans, slowly pushing himself farther into you once he is out. "Just do it how you normally would." You drop your head to his shoulder, facing his neck as his thrust become more common, his speed going faster. Your nails clawed at his other shoulder as you kept everything in you not to bite onto him for closure. You would lift yourself up as he pushed himself inside you once you drop yourself back down, following his pace that would only just quicken.
Maybe it was the weed, but you could've sworn you had a warm tear make its way down your cheek, it was painful, but pleasurable, his size definitely not what you were expecting for your first time. You placed damp kisses along his neck and collarbone, feeling your stomach clench harshly. "Chris–"
"I know, baby. I know. Me too." He moans, barely able to utter a few words. You quickly push you off of him, both on que as you cum everywhere. You're thankful he did, not really sure what you would do if you got pregnant from your first time.
You lay on the gray couch completely naked, trying to get your breath in order. Chris does the same, turning to look at you to do so. His eyebrows furrow, "Did I hurt you?" He wipes away your tear with his thumb. "A little." You admit, "but I think it's normal. Right?" You question. "As long as it's not anything you didn't want, it should be normal." He nods, running his hands softly over your cum-covered stomach.
"How are we going to clean the couch from this?" You question, he looks up from you. "We better get to fucking work."
You stand up, your legs shaking as you attempt to put your underwear back on. Chris clicks his tongue. "Sit back down, I'll do it." He stands up, shoving himself back into his boxers, unfolding his sweatpants and putting them on.
You sigh, thinking about a shower and how good Chris felt against her. He manages to come back from around the corner with a towel. You attempt to help him clean. "We're so fucked." You mumbled.
He looks back at you and realizes just how high you two are. This event will definitely give you something to talk about later on, but for now Chris steals one more kiss from you, long and passionate. A different kind of euphoria for two idiots high out of their minds.
"I think you might be the bestest friend I've ever had." He says.
359 notes · View notes