#giving away my secrets a little bit at a time
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Happy Birthday; I’ve Made an Appleseed Cake [Yan!Aventurine x GN!Reader]
It’s his birthday; a very happy day.
Ao3
Word count: 2.2k
TW: Stockholm syndrome, toxic relationships, codependency, the gore is very mild this time around but there’s still just a little bit poking out its head, emotional manipulation, hazmat suits needed to navigate this relationship, tooth rotting fluff (haha see what I did there), there isn’t much cake in this story sorry for the misleading title 😔
Note: I’m two hours late but happy birthday to Aventurine! I wrote this over the course of yesterday and stuff and solely on my phone so. If there’s something glaring that’s why. My phone isn’t really what I prefer to write with, but life’s life.
(Written before 2.2)
When he comes back from work, the last thing he expected was for you to lunge at him.
It was sudden. You froze in surprise, looking at him with a dull, decomposing gaze, frowning in contrast to his smile at the sight of you. A picturesque deer in headlights, seconds away from the afterlife, from its body getting skinned and devoured. It spends its existence solely eating and raising fawn; perhaps not an unfulfilling existence, but not one with much meaning, much else to it besides a single minded pursuit to survival. If it’s lucky, it’ll rot into the ground, infested with maggots feasting on delicious rot. If they’re not, parts of them are stuffed into plastic, the rest placed on a dinner table. In a way, it reminds him of home.
He was planning to pepper you with burning kisses in his arms, but then he was on the ground. Granted, he did let it happen, but could you blame him? He just had to see what you were planning, especially this out of the blue!
You do not smile or frown. You wear a pretty porcelain mask, even if it’s cracking. Strangely, he can’t quite get a read on you. Interesting. It’s a little silly, however, given that you’re wearing your pajamas. You must’ve woken up recently.
“This is a weird way to say ‘welcome back,’ isn’t it?”
You blink. He can tell you stifle a yawn.
He clicks his tongue. Are you stunned, perhaps? Your instincts have always been to freeze rather than run, so either your mind has gone blank or you’re currently engaged with a feverish inner monologue. He knows you’ll get where you need to go eventually, but he’s always been a little impatient. He decides to give you a bit of encouragement. “What’s with that face?” He pinches your cheeks and shapes them into an unamused smile, “Mmn, much better. Now, repeat after me: ‘Welcome home, Aventurine!’ Don’t you think it’s what I’m owed after such a long day of work?”
You begin to shake. Your chest expands, your breathing quickens. A deer, pushed to the brink, pawing at the ground in order to charge straight into the predator’s jaws. He trails his hand to your pulse to find it beats wildly. Good. You’ve gotten a little closer to your destination. Just a little farther, alright? He’ll keep pace, of course. It’s not like he can let you think you can get away with these things forever. Bits and pieces of cracking porcelain fall onto his face.
His eyes narrow, “Sweetheart,” the endearment slithers off his tongue, “any plans you’d like to tell me about?” He moves to sit up, that way he looks down at you, sweet, kind, pathetic thing you are. “You know how much I hate it,” He decides to have his ascent be slow and steady, “when you keep secrets from me.” His hand ghosts your chest, prepared rip them out if need be. “Of course, you can keep them, but all I ask is to make sure you don’t disappoint me, with whatever you’re thinking about,” he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, “In fac—”
A snort. He pauses, raising an eyebrow with intrigue. Your mouth begins to wobble.
“haaapeburffdei.” You quickly exhale, the shaking of your body increasing.
“Huh?” He blinks and fully sits up. He secures you by the shoulders as you duck your head. “Mind repeating that?”
You take in a sharp breath, shaking your head. “Ha…” you breathe, “happ…” and you shake again. At this point, he’s a little concerned.
“Sweetheart? Did you sniff glue or something?” You tend to cling to levity, so he gives it. It makes you drop your guard for a brief moment, and from there he can unravel y—
“Happy birthday, Aventurine!” You wheeze, before laughing and giving him a tight, desperate hug.
Ah, so that’s what it was. He makes an educated guess of the events at hand:
His sudden arrival caught you off guard (since he usually came later in the day)
You were stunned and left processing his appearance, not at all helped by you having just woke up
But you could suppress your instinctual excitement and joy, which just so happened to manifest in your lunging toward him and pinning him to the ground
At some point, you realize that, oh, you really were in the presence of your awful, cruel, and amazing boyfriend!
However, you dug your grave with the straight face you started out with. Instead of clarifying things, you decided to maintain it to try and hide your embarrassment
You crack under no pressure and reveal your intentions. It tracks with your horrid poker face.
You are now very embarrassed but very, very humored and happy
Even he was sometimes a little dizzy going through your woeful mental gymnastics. But he nevertheless greatly enjoys the process. It makes him feel just a little bit full, for just a little bit.
But. Did, did he hear that right? Did he really hear—
A kiss, a cover for voracious fangs, presses against his cheek. “Happy, happy, happy birthday, to my favorite person in the entire room, corridor, starship, planet, world, universe, multiverse, reality…!” you giggle, drunk on joy due to perceived joy. You sigh contentedly, “Ah~. What a great day to be alive…A~ven~tu~rine~, the worst and best person I’ve ever known…mmm~” you nuzzle your cheek against his own, continuing your lovesick and nonsensical blabberings (he’s guilty of greatly enjoying them). Yes—you’re alive. Your chest is flush against his as if they are one, your legs straddle him as if they are nails pinning him to the ground, and your heart beats fast with simple happiness. Utterly full of life; life you struggle to muster without him. It’s not a good thing, but it makes him happy you feel the same way he does every single day.
His smile is multiple things: euphoria that the mere thought of him has you this excited and overjoyed, delighted confusion at your antics, and blood raining in his body as a conflict wages within.
He didn’t listen to his sister and came back. To see her, see his clan, (perhaps) blessed by Gaiathra Triclops with the help of the men in black, surely, surely, SURELY they had to have been alive…? Surely, the Katicans paid their blood debts…?
Surely, his fortune would extend to his family?
But Kakavasha was gifted lifeless eyes. Soon enough, the quicksand swallowed, and the rain washed everything away.
(He has never celebrated his birthday since)
“Aventurine?” He feels a small series of soft pats (lashes of a whip) to his cheeks, “What’s wrong?”
He blinks and lolls his head boyishly, the same way he does whenever someone asks too many questions, “So, who told you about my birthday? An owl? A jewel?”
You are not fooled, but decide to answer his question anyway, “You told me when we were still getting to know each other. Admittedly, I wouldn’t have remembered it if I didn’t keep record of every birthday I know.”
“You record the birthdays of everyone you know?”
You lift your cheek from his (he mourns the loss), and settle your head on his chest, looking up at him. “Yeah,” you say like it’s obvious, “how else do I remember? Besides, it was a good way to be polite to people around me, and also still let me have plausible deniability. I didn’t remember that thing by heart or anything,” you lid your eyes slightly unimpressedly, “I’m surprised you don’t know. I was convinced you scrubbed everything on my phone and computer.”
“I did,” he plays with a strand of your hair, mesmerized by the way it looks in cloudy light, “but as much as I love getting to know you, even I have my limits, dearest. I don’t have three sets of arms and eyes.”
“Mhm…” You slightly deflate; you truly want him to cradle you in his stomach, laughing as you melt into acid. Sigh, him too, him too, sweetheart. But life’s quite the cruel thing, isn’t it?
Then you lift your head from his chest, and slot your foreheads together. Or course. You know better than to drop something brimming with potential; especially when it could fill your stomach and give it a temporary fullness. “Really, Aventurine,” you soften your eyes, brimming with worry and insatiable love, “If you don’t tell me what’s bothering you,” you take his hand, your left hands, and intertwine your fingers, “then I won’t know what’s making you sad, and if I don’t know what’s making you sad, I might make you sad again. I really don’t wanna do that.”
How sweet. How very, very sweet. His hand snakes to your collar, to unveil your lucky charm. His mouth waters.
You frown and put your hand over his own. “You’re zoning out again,” you mutter. That’s right. You can tell just how uncomposed he really is whenever he’s around you, so heart achingly sweet that he is driven to devour; so breathtakingly [pathetic] he is driven to lock you away from the sun so no one but him can put a bullet through your skull, can adore and take care of you, can leave you alone and longing, can wrap you in cold chains (made of silk and jewels and gold; you have never deserved shackles, and never will). “Please…” you plead, but knowingly or not, you still possess a potent arsenal. You strike him clean through the heart:
“You know I love you…I love you, Aventurine…so, please let me know, so I don’t ever make you sad again…”
What a dirty trick you’ve used. But who is he to discourage? He plays dirty plenty, so it’s only fair if he lets you, too. Besides, it actually would suit his own desires, right?
Because he too, would love to live a life in your stomach.
“Alright, alright,” he shrugs, “‘honest communication’ is vitally important to relationships, anyway. Not that I’d let you go over something so minor, but I suppose a bit of…etiquette doesn’t hurt every so often.”
Your eyes light up. “Tell me what I did wrong and I’ll fix it.”
Although he undeniably feels happy and light, as he nearly always does with you, he cannot escape the way rain drips into him like acid, like blood.
You two move to the couch, where he tells you. He’s confident about it, of course. He’s sure about it all. But still, no matter what he did, how wonderful he feels in your presence, with his stomach full of you, the cracked pieces rise.
He doesn’t tell you everything.
[Admit it, you want to.]
He’s not sure if he should, when it just feels so, so much better to just live with you.
[No, they’re the reason you talk in the first place! Whew, you must super out of it, if the ‘future’ barely grazes your mind.]
You kiss and lick his tears, a flavor of salty vulnerability spreading on your tongue. You leave a gentle trail of kisses; feathering on his eyelids, soft on his cheek, reassuring on his forehead, possessive on his neck. It’s warm and secure and hellish. The ecstasy from the joy he feels nearly makes him sob again.
“I’m here,” you reassure, “I’m here, in your arms with you and only ever you,” you chant. Your hand rubs soothing circles into his back, “Thank you for trusting me, Aventurine…thank you so much.” Revenant oaths spill from your lips, “I’ll protect it well. I’ll prove that you made the right choice. I’ll use it so I don’t make you sad again. I’ll be the best person you could’ve told. I’ll be the best person you can tell anything and everything to.”
His organs churn through a wellspring of emotions and memories: disgust, love, reverence, hate, anger, happiness—
“My lucky hound,” he master drawls, “I’ll find a space in my schedule to listen to you.” Kakavasha blinks, and his master’s face morphs into a snarl, “On your knees.” Kakavasha gasps as a boot falls on his head. “You should be worshiping the ground I walk, for being willing to listen to a murderer; a dog to boot. Who else’s going to listen? The cell mates you’ll inevitably kill? Don’t kid yourself, Sigonian scum.”
Love is blinding.
He smiles and nods. Only you, sweetheart. Only you, and only him. The two of you hold each other in an iron grip. But you’re both hungry.
After a bit of silence, as you two lay on the couch exhausted and spent, you finally speak.
“…I made a birthday cake. Do you just wanna burn it in a bonfire or something?” You ask. “Something like…’from its corpse, arises the flames which cook our s’mores.”
“Then…wouldn’t those just be birthday s’mores? The entire thing becomes pointless then, right?”
“Hm…good point…”
A light chuckle rumbles in his chest. He affectionately scratches your head, “It’s just cake at the end of the day, right? At the end of the day, it’s made just for me. So…it doesn’t have to be burned.” He grins. “At least…not the whole thing.”
“So…that’s what you want to do?”
“Yep.”
You blink, and a wide grin, practically cracking along your face, spreads across your face, “Then let’s do it.”
You two have a lovely, normal, and happy day. Even as rain pours.
#aventurine hsr#yandere#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere aventurine x reader#yandere aventurine#destroyed onset#the cake is very good#because for the past [censored] years reader has nothing but time to hone cake skills#it’s the equivalent to ppl getting super obsessed with making bread during the pandemic lol#anyway#this fic really was some good ol tooth rotting fluff huh#I was considering that title but after a while it didn’t quite fit this fic#so we got generic ass title number 36288393939303#yippeeeee#happy birthday aventurine!#tw Stockholm syndrome
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jordie dont you just think about how megumi values his personal bubble so much he would literally kill to keep his safe space to himself but he would simultaneously, spontaneously expand the bubble for the reader like cmere baby sit with me lets be quiet together and they just sit together in utter laziness and solitude?? brain-rioting at this point.
yes omg i am so pickme for megumi bc i'm so different and special <3
you didn't count as an obstruction to megumi's personal space. if yuji threw his arms around him for a hug, megumi was annoyed. when gojo rubbed his hand all over his head and messed up his hair, megumi was annoyed. even if someone sat too close, megumi was annoyed.
it didn't take much to breech his personal space.
but you didn't count.
if you approached him with open arms, he was pulling you close to his side and holding you there. if he was sitting and reading his book in peace but you came around? he was making space for you to crawl into his nap to cuddle while he read. no matter the situation, you always seemed to be close, and megumi seemed to like you there.
it was no secret, everyone saw the way you rested your head on his shoulder during car rides, and always reached out to him for hugs. but with megumi being as stoic as he is, no one ever really pushed for an explanation as to... why?
had you always been close? were you dating? did he give up on trying to push you away? honestly no assumption made sense, so eventually people stopped trying to reach for one.
you would always know the truth, though.
"you've got your nose stuck in your book again, 'gumi," you huff as you walk around the couch, hands on your hips as though you're about to scold him. "been waitin' in bed for twenty minutes"
lowering his book only a little bit, megumi raises his head to meet your non-threatening gaze.
"twenty whole minutes in bed by yourself? when did my baby get so brave?"
you pout at him, and it's effective enough that he drops his book and beckons you to come closer. he knows you've been waiting, you're not exactly patient about it.
and as expected you come to him right away, straddling right over his lap and curling into his chest like you were his natural puzzle piece. megumi merely chuckles as he rubs your back, coaxing you to rest while he lingers on the couch with his book a little longer.
"gonna fall asleep if you keep this up" you mutter. megumi hums.
"and once again i'll carry you to bed" he says. you giggle. cling to him a little closer. enjoy the beating of his heart against your chest, almost in sync with yours.
"that's why i love you 'gumi," you sigh, only partially joking. "you're so sweet"
he chuckles. it vibrates from his chest and through you, and you smile as you snuggle into your secret softie of a boyfriend.
like the secret softie he is, he kisses your head a few times, continues to rub your back, and holds you close to him so you could sleep comfortably while he read.
"i love you too, baby," he murmurs into the crown of your head before picking up his book again.
and you don't need to be told. you know. you'll always know. for as long as he keeps you close, you're all his.
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PINING
Melissa Schemmenti x Fem!Reader —☆
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ about: they always said what happens at PECSA, stays at PECSA...but not this one.
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ warning/s: mild cursing
ִִֶֶָָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ word count: 2.6k
ִִֶֶָָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ note/s: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while, whoops! but anw, hope you guys enjoy it :)
“Philadelphia 76ers tickets?” You whisper-ask whilst looking at Ava who had just announced it to everyone. “Yeah, I’ll pass.”
It’s teacher appreciation week, and to be fair, you just want to see the band club perform for tomorrow’s assembly. It’s a little piece that you helped them prepare for all of the teachers to watch. This one was kept as a little secret from Janine; no offense to her, but you thought she might twist the crooks and nooks a little with the performance if she found out.
“We have a strong contender, everyone.” Ava grins with malice after what you said which left everyone confused.
“Why are you passing on this opportunity?” Janine gasped, sounding as though she had just got offended.
“If it were a concert from an artist I liked, I wouldn’t pass.” You shrug. “It isn’t, and I might just get confused with everything.”
“I know who to give the two tickets now to, oh, yes.” The principal says which then catches everyone’s attention away from you.
Gregory then asks suspiciously. “What do you mean, two?”
“We only have two tickets and I was gonna give them two to only one teacher.” Ava explained, hearing groans from everyone while you decided to silently excuse yourself and head to your classroom which is on the second floor.
---
Some of the morning classes have passed, and thus, the first break of the day before lunch. Set in the teachers’ lounge, chaos was something not to be avoided, until Ava asked for everyone to go to the library for an emergency meeting, as well as ask for a Sprite.
As you were about to go on by yourself, Ava proceeded to send you a message that asked for said Sprite. With a silent groan, but a small feel of relief, you just went ahead quickly. Thankfully, the fast food place with Sprite was near the school anyway.
At first, you were a bit lazy to drive off, but on second thought, the meeting was gonna be about the tickets anyway; so it didn’t really bother you as much. You wouldn’t want to spend half an hour listening to others bickering about tickets, although it would be a funny sight to see them arguing and bantering over who gets the tickets, likewise what Ava would feel if she saw that scene herself.
You were then soon on your way to the library after about 15 minutes of driving there and back where you got yourself something while also including Ava’s Sprite. And as you entered the library, “Sorry for being late, Ava. Here’s your Spri-”
“Here is our winner, the owner of the two tickets!” She announced proudly, presenting you similarly to some kind of prize.
Your eyes widened, and your eyebrows furrowed. “Wait, Ava, no! You know what happened the last time you gave something similar to someone who didn’t want it.” Everyone’s stare then transferred to Daryl and his eyelashes. “And why me? Why not Mr. Johnson?”
“Yeah, she’s damn right. I deserve it!” Mr. Johnson preaches from behind with a broom in his hand, like a staff from some Dungeons & Dragons game.
“Because you don’t have anyone to go with and I can be the perfect match to accompany you to this game.” Ava says with a huge smile plastered on her face. “Unless you’re gonna bring your secret girlfriend to the game. Betrayal.” She then looks at Melissa who catches up on what she just said.
“Oh, she’s not- '' You try to explain, placing the fast food bag on one of the tables. “No, no, Ava, you got it wrong.” You add, chuckling nervously.
“Yeah, that’s not what my ears found out when I heard all the flirting in each other’s classrooms, huh?” Ava teased.
“I think this is a little more interesting than basketball right now.” Janine whispers to Jacob and Gregory with a little laugh that escapes her mouth.
“Didn’t we bet on this?” Jacob replies.
With Gregory saying, “Yes, you guys did.”
It started around when the school year started and you and Melissa began to grow closer to each other after a debacle about different cuisines. She mostly stuck with Italian, and you, on the other hand, explored different dishes from different cultures. It was a mutual love for food; that could perhaps have also turned into a mutual liking and interest for each other.
“It’s just a little flirting, Ava.” Melissa shrugs her shoulders, with you agreeing.
“A little friendly banter.” You add.
“PECSA Weekend.” Jacob says and coughs in between words that earned various curious looks from the other teachers and Janine’s eyes widening with her mouth trying to cover a stifled laugh.
You feel a little awkward while mouthing, ‘What the fuck?’ You shake your head at Jacob, with eyebrows furrowed.
‘For the sake of the tickets.’ He mouths back, giving you an apologetic and yet competitive smile.
After nodding your head at him with a ‘What the living Christ, dude?’ expression, you announce that you will be withdrawing from this ridiculous somewhat of a scam that the district offered to the teachers.
“Yeah, let me just slide out of this room. Settle this yourselves.” You purse your lip, before waving goodbye.
Jacob’s gaze transfers to Melissa’s who looks at him with threat as he gulps in an invisible lump in his throat, making his palms extra sweatier than usual.
---
Meanwhile, just as everyone left the library, Janine and Jacob huddled while walking to their classrooms; with Gregory following them from behind. “I knew it. Something did happen at PECSA.” Jacob says, looking behind him to see if Melissa was behind them or so. “You could say that I am a good guesser.”
“As intriguing as this is, we should just let them be.” Gregory interrupts, before getting laughter as a reply.
“And pass this opportunity for destined love to not intertwine?” Janine raises an eyebrow with a cheeky smile. “Not gonna happen.”
“I’m just thinking of those Basketball tickets.” He says in defense as the two agree.
While that conversation continued on to be about Philadelphia 76ers and board game night, Melissa and Barbara were having a little talk while also heading to their respective classrooms.
“Now how did Jacob know about it?” Melissa wondered with suspicion. She’s fine with people finding out, sure, but she’s thinking of your friendship with her and how some people can be a little extra nosy, which she isn’t a fan of.
“Well, you know Jacob and Janine. Almost always up for schemes and so on.” Barbara says before waving goodbye as she then arrives at her classroom.
Melissa thinks to herself quietly while beginning her class. She enjoyed each and every second with you that night. Intoxicated by alcohol or not, she likes listening to every word you say because it just keeps her ears up. She’s known you for only about a couple of months given that you were only a new teacher at Abbott.
You’ve melted her under your grasp, and though she may be older, you never once made her feel as though she is. You make her feel young and more alive, while at the same time keeping her on her toes. She likes that you reciprocate to her talking about firefighters and different Italian dishes, as well as her family. Melissa isn’t one to trust people too quickly, but she slowly found herself warming up to you.
This has been a constant thought in her head, as well as it’s yours. Just a constant loop. A game of tag. The type of unrequited love that’s obviously mutual love that everyone can see, but manages to not be for both you and Melissa.
---
After that small inconvenience, or say, exposing secrets in the library, you’re now behind your desk with your laptop in front of you while your class is writing an essay.
The laptop is opened just so you can occupy yourself with something. Just some numbers you’re crunching and a few tests that you’re checking up that you’ll return to your students soon.
Your thoughts then wander to that said PECSA weekend. Alcohol was involved, a bunch of Math-a-ritas later and you’re caught up making out with the hot redhead teacher who just so happens to be Melissa. No feelings were confessed that night, but surely those actions meant something. Hopefully. As you would think.
It remained in your head how it felt the way her hands lingered all over your body, the small groans, her lips against yours. It wasn’t a hookup or a one night stand that happened, as all of it was simply just kissing the whole night until who knows what time it was.
You brought it upon yourself to get drunk with Melissa and invite her to your room; it didn’t take her a second to say yes to you before feeling your back against the cold door with her hand trickling over to the door knob to lock it. She kissed you well, and touched you in places she left cold when she sneaked out the following morning.
‘Didn’t want suspicions to linger. Sorry.’ That was the message she sent when you woke up with your clothes disarray and your lipstick smudges, with her trailing on your neck.
That was about a month ago. Surely, some things changed over the course of a month. Exchanging text messages over those couple of weeks changed, you weren’t that close to each other anymore, and the constant ‘What are we?’ lingered in your mind for more than you want it to.
That night changed what you and Melissa had. For the worse or for the better? You didn’t know.
You sigh in your chair, waiting for the bell to ring as this calls for your next lesson, Music. This one is with Janine’s class.
“Deep in thought, Miss?” Amanda asks. She’s one of the students sitting near your desk. Not with worried intent, but with curiosity.
“Go back to your essay, kid.” You look at her as if denying something in mind.
“Ok, Mrs. Schemmenti.” She blurts out before everyone in the room echoed with ‘Oooh.’s Amanda laughs at your embarrassed demeanor before she apologizes that that might have ended up being a little too personal.
As it turns out word got out about Jacob mentioning PECSA weekend, and not only that, but it was heard by one of the students from Jacob and Gregory’s podcast club, This Abbott Life.
---
Music class went by like a quick second as it was just a little jamming session with the second graders from Janine’s class.
It’s the end of morning class which means that lunch is on its arrival. Lunch which meant that you have to face Melissa after what seemed like only a small incident that happened a while ago. And so upon pondering over what to do or where to go just to avoid an upcoming awkward situation, you exit the music room after dismissing the class and decide to go to your own classroom upstairs to eat lunch.
Walking from down the stairs was Jacob who saw you then gulped from nervousness with the awareness of what he did, but surprisingly, you didn’t notice it. Although behind you exiting a classroom was someone Jacob was a little more terrified of. Melissa. She then catches his eyes, making him rush towards the teachers’ lounge.
As you sit quietly in your classroom, on your desk is the lunch you brought and a book you’ve been reading lately. A couple moments pass and you’re indulged in the story you’re reading. It’s a nice book you’ve been wanting to read in a while, something Melissa recommended to you some time ago. You do miss the closeness you two had before PECSA.
Well, most people say that what happens in PECSA stays in PECSA, but in your case, it probably isn’t.
“I see you’re finally reading it.” Her familiar voice dances in between the words printed in the book, which catches your attention. She greets you with a smile.
“Oh! Hello, Melissa.” You greet with half a smile, inserting the bookmark into the book and carefully closing it so as for it not to crease, before welcoming her to come inside.
“How’s it so far?” Melissa leans on one of the windowsills. She seemed really intrigued as to what your thoughts were, but that wasn’t exactly the reason why she came up here to you.
“It’s so far so good.” You fidget with the printed cover of it. “It’s a very intriguing book with well written characters.”
Melissa grabs one of the chairs and places it beside you, ready to listen to your thoughts on the book, but instead, she was met by the silence of obvious thoughts that lingered through your mind.
“Are you alright, hon?” She worries.
You feel as though this is the perfect opportunity to talk about it after acting as though you were cool about it, about everything that happened. That nothing worried and haunted you.
“We should talk about, you know.” You say it as straightforward. “While we have time for lunch.”
“What about it?” She asks, her voice as gentle as the way she held you that night.
Your fingers begin to fiddle with each other out of habit. “Were there some feelings involved?” You went in straight to the flame. “Did you kiss me because I wanted to kiss you, or did you kiss me because you wanted to kiss me?”
“What do you think happened that night?” A question with curiosity that overflowed.
“Well, we got drunk, went to my room, started making out, then the next morning, you left.” Instead of receiving a proper response, you instead get a chuckle out of her. “What’s funny?”
In between soft chuckling, she says, “You’re missing a few details, sweetheart.”
“Is that so?” You ask anxiously before feeling her hand take yours, circling her thumb on your palm.
“You know, when we got on your bed you suddenly ran away.” She recalls. “You ran away to the bathroom and all I heard was vomit and gagging.”
You felt shivers behind your back, feeling embarrassed over something so blurry in your mind and barely there.
“After that, you just kept on crying.” Her gaze softens as she catches your eyes. “You were scared that me hearing you vomiting over the toilet made you lose your chances with me and so you didn’t want to kiss me again.” She purses and licks her lips. “You said stuff about how you feel as though I deserve someone better.”
“I would have helped you clean up, but you refused and just left me hanging there for a good half an hour.” Melissa placed her glasses on top of her head. “We ended up just hugging each other the whole night. I was gonna say something but you fell asleep.”
“You can say it to me now.” You smile a little.
With hesitance, Melissa starts talking. “Look, I wanted to tell you the next day, but you know, I’m not the best at opening up.” Your hand creeps up onto the side of her neck as she takes this and places it on her cheek. “I have feelings for you too. I like you, and there isn’t a day where your chances of having me lessen.”
A smile of relief grows on your face, laughing out of embarrassment with Melissa soon following your laughter. “God, we are so naive.” You say, rolling your eyes playfully out of the ridiculousness of the situation.
You pull your chair closer to hers, getting a little closer to her. Your eyes trail to her lips and she notices this, letting go of your hand and holding your face to meet her lips with yours. The kiss felt more passionate, with the taste of morning coffee surprisingly still within her lips.
“We shouldn’t be doing this on school grounds.” You whisper in between kisses that Melissa continued to give you.
And so midway she stops. “Are you telling me that I should bring you home?” She looks at you with intent and need.
“Friday.”
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Before the mask - part sifteen.
Pairing: Simon Riley x Fem!Reader
Summary: Because Simon wasn’t born as Ghost.
Wordcount: 4292| Rating: E! (18+ only!)
Warnings: unprotected sex! Praise, riding, facesitting, communication.
A/N: I'm in a bit of a writers slump, but I'll try to update sooner!
“No!”
“What do you mean, ‘no’?!”
Simon doesn’t know how to explain that he is telling you no, he doesn’t know how he is supposed to tell you that your last mission scared him to the point that he never, ever wants it to experience again. How is he supposed to tell you that he thinks that being a soldier seems to be too dangerous?
He can’t tell you that, you’ll think he is an idiot, a controlling asshole trying to decide what you can and cannot do.
So he grits his teeth, clenching his fists, as he tries to calm down. He needs to make sure that his fear doesn’t tip over in anger, but that is so damn difficult when he doesn’t get the chance to think.
“Lovie.” He managed to bring out the endearing word through gritted teeth. “Give me a second, yeah?”
And just like that, the tension in your shoulders seem to dissolve. Sure, you’re still pissed off at his words, at how he thinks he can boss you around, but at least he is trying, and that is a lot more than some other men can say.
“Fine.” With a grumble, you sit down on the couch, arms crossed in front of your chest. Just because you appreciate his efforts, doesn’t mean that you’re not annoyed at him. “Ready when you are.”
His fear doesn’t fade, not right away anyway, he stares at the back of your head, trying to make up if you’re pissed at him, or not.
He sighs, once, twice, maybe even for the third time, and a little dramatic too. Finally he bites the bullet. You do deserve a partner he can communicate, and the heavens know that Simon is trying.
He sits down next to you, seeing how you try to keep your frown at him, but he notices the little tugs on the corner of your lips too.
“I’m trying.” Simon starts. “Really am, but this is difficult for me, okay? So, if I need to take a break, give me one.”
That is fair, and honestly, if you weren’t so annoyed with him, you would have applauded it, so instead you just nod at him.
“Okay. So.” How do you start this again? “I.. I am worried, okay?”
Simon wants to reach out to you, but he is a little hesitant to do so, worried that you will reject him, and that is a blow he doesn’t think he could handle right now. “When communication was lost with your squad, it made a fear erupt in me, that I have never felt before, and the idea of feeling it again..”
Damn.
That is, hands down, the best communication you’ve ever had with him, he communicates his feelings, his needs, his fears, what more could you ask for? Sure, you don’t like it when he tries to control things, but now you know where he is coming from.
And Simon is just proud, proud that he was able to say this while his throat felt as if it was closing up. He is proud that he managed to speak about his fears, without lashing out, without shutting you out.
“What would help?”
Your question startled him a little. “What?”
“What would help you feel less anxious?”
Well, he would be damned. Was this how it was supposed to feel whenever someone met your needs? When someone really tried to understand you? Shit, that felt amazing.
“I.. I am going to be on that mission too, and I want you to stay close to me, so I can keep my eye on you.”
That would be a good solution, he could keep an eye on you, maybe you could even learn a thing or two from him, and that would be it.
“Okay. Yes. That would work.”
Simon lets out a sigh of relief, for a second he was worried you’d try to argue with him, but the fact that you didn’t, that you even tried to think in solutions with him, that was nothing short of being amazing, and he had to thank the heavens, on his knees for you.
“But,” and he hates what he has to say next. “we really should keep us a secret a little longer. I don’t want other to think I’m giving you a special treatment.”
“But you are giving me a special treatment!” Not that you disagreed with keeping your relationship on the low, you just weren’t going to be a man’s peace.
“I know.” Simon groaned out his answer. “But that is beside the point!”
He can read your body language, he knows that you’re no longer annoyed with him, so he is getting a little braver. He pulls you close to him, pressing a kiss on your hair. “You’re a pain in my ass sometimes.”
“So are you.” You counter with a laugh, as you rest your head on his shoulder. “But you’re right, we should just.. keep us on the low, to keep them from being suspicious.”
Funny, how Simon could recall you saying those words, but here you were, nudging him with your right knee. He had been surprised when he had noticed that you sat down next to him in the meeting, tucked away in the back.
Keeping their relationship under wraps makes it particularly challenging for him to hide his feelings. However, you find a thrill in the subtle signals Simon shoots your direction. Eventually, he reaches his limit. With a firm grip on your knee beneath the table, he leans in and murmurs, "Stop it."
Well, it wasn't your fault, was it? You were just really, really in love with him, and the fact that you two were a couple, but no one knew? That just made you feel all giddy on the inside.
You lean towards him, an innocent smile on your face. "I'm sorry." You whispered.
"Cut it out." Simon whispered back, trying to keep himself under control despite the fire building inside him. He could feel the tension in the air as his grip on your knee tightened, his thumb brushing against your skin.
It took every ounce of self-control to keep himself from reaching under the table and pulling you onto his lap so he could whisper all the sweet nothings he wanted to say to you.
Your knee finally stops nudging against his, but you can't stop stealing little glances at him. Your fingertips trail over the back of his hand, and it is getting hard to focus on the briefing. Your mind wanders to every sweet interaction you’ve have had and your heart runs over with love.
Simon is acutely aware of your gaze as you continued to steal glances at him during the briefing. It's not a secret that you love him and he feels a shiver run up his spine as your fingertips trail down his arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in your wake.
While he wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around you, this isn't the place for it. So he leans forward once again, whispering, "If you don't focus, I will drag you to an empty room and you will never forget me."
You have to suppress a giggle at his words. It felt so, so, so good to be in love, especially with someone as wonderful as him.
"We don't want that now, would we?" You teased him, but you decided to behave a little bit. Not wanting to get the both of you in trouble, after all, you had promised to keep this a secret
Simon's lips twitch into a suppressed smile, as he can't help but be affected by your sassiness. Instead of responding with more words, he leans down and captures your lips in a brief, yet deep kiss.
He leans back just before your colleagues noticed the kiss. "No, we don't want that now" Simon whispered with a smirk, "I have plans for you later."
You are stunned when he kissed you and the first thing you do is to look around, to see if anyone noticed, but all their eyes are on the captain. Your fingers go to your lips and your fingertips try to mimic the sensation.
"Stop that!" You whispered while your cheeks got a rosy hue.
Simon can't help but chuckle at your flushed cheeks. You look just as adorable as the first time he saw you, your lips the same rosebud pink—just as kissable. But he needs to control himself. He can't keep kissing you here.
"No, I think I'll keep doing this," Simon replies in a hushed whisper, "it gets even better when I kiss other places. Like your neck and..." His fingers brush across your neck in the spot that he had in mind.
He knows what he is doing, the cheeky fucker.
You can't suppress the smile on your face, no matter how hard you tried.
"You're a horrible tease" It is hard to stay focussed, it is hard to keep quiet. But you had promised to keep your relation on the low, but fuck, does he make it difficult.
"Am not..." Simon teases you, his voice low and sensually as he whispers, "But I can show you how much of a tease I can be. I bet it will be a better feeling than the kisses I just gave you."
Simon continues to brush his fingers across your neck, his nails grazing the skin gently enough to make chills run down your skin. He's enjoying your flushed face, he likes that he has this type of control over you. He likes that he can punish you for your teasing.
His touch leave a wake of goosebumps on your skin, the touch is addicting.
"Stop it." You muttered through gritted teeth. "You're going to get us caught!"
Your hand goes to reach for his, trying to pry it off your skin
“I'm trying to give you a little preview of what I'm going to do to you later." Simon continues to tease you, as he lets his nails trail down the back of your neck in slow, sensual strokes.
"I'll be sure to go over every inch of you later tonight. Your neck..." Simon whispers, his lips close to your skin.
He can't stop himself from enjoying your reaction, from how his words are making you squirm in your seat.
You knows you should stop him, you know that you should tell him to continue later, you know that what you’re doing is a danger to your job, but his teasing words, his teasing touch. They cloud your judgement as the hormones take over.
"Where else?" You murmured softly, making sure your teammates wouldn't hear the two of you.
"Tell me where you want to kiss me."
Simon can't help but grin, amused by the fact that he can make you feel this way. He enjoys seeing you so flushed, your cheeks bright pink, your lips begging for a kiss. He wants to give you everything you want.
"Oh, I have plenty of places to kiss you," Simon replies softly. He places his free hand on your thigh and moves it up the side of your leg, letting his fingers trail down your skin.
Your heart is pounding in your chest and all you can hear is your own heartbeat in your ears. You take a shaky, deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. You don’t want to attract the attention of your teammates, but his touch makes you feel as if you are on fire.
Simon relishes the fact that you are panting and visibly shaking from his touch. He's doing exactly what he wanted—drive you crazy and make you want him. His hand continues to stroke your thigh, his fingers caressing the fabric all the way up towards your hip. He leans down, closer to your ear, and whispers, "If you don't stop being all fidgety right now, I'll bring you to an empty room and make sure you'll never be the same again."
He enjoys toying with you, you just know it. God, you hated that the fabric of your pants keep him from actually touching you.
There is only so much you can take, and it is become more and more difficult to stay and to keep quiet.
A sign escapes you, when the meeting is wrapped up, just in time.
Simon sits back in seat, as he watches the meeting reach its conclusion. His body trembles with the pent up frustrations he has from not being able to freely touch his girl. His knee bouncing, his fists clenching and unclenching.
Simon knows that if the meeting were to carry on for even a moment longer, he would drag you to an empty room. He wants to make you feel the way you make him feel, driving him crazy with desire.
You don't want to raise any suspicion, but fuck he is making it hard. You clear your throat, and you finally get up from your seat. Your fingertips brushing against his shoulders as you walk past him.
Simon watches you walk past him, amused by the way she sways your hips in your tight uniform. The way you moves your body, confidently yet sensually, drives him crazy. He also can't deny the feeling of jealousy that sweeps over him, knowing that other men are surely noticing your beauty.
As he watches you walk off, he thinks of the moment he can finally get you to himself. The things he will do to you, the places he will touch you. He can already feel the heat building inside him.
You wanted it to become a little routine. You would get up first, touch him, just enough to light that fire inside of him.
You would disappear into your room, leave the door unlocked and he would follow you, sometimes after a minute, sometimes after ten minutes. You couldn't wait any longer, so when he opened the door to your room, he was greeted with the sight of his naked girl, waiting for him on the bed.
The moment Simon opens the door to your room and sees your waiting for him on the bed, his breath caught in his throat.
You look like a goddess, more beautiful than he had ever seen you—naked and waiting for his touch. Your skin glistens in the light, your hair draped over her neck and shoulders. And you wait for him, your eyes filled with anticipation.
Simon cannot resist you, every time he sees you like this, he's pulled to you, his every desire focused on you.
With every step he takes, he loses a piece of clothing, until he stands naked in front of the bed, hard and proud.
He crawls into bed with you. Their bodies touching, legs intertwining while your lips met.
"You've been an awful tease." You whispered in between kisses.
"You like it when I tease you, though." Simon replies confidently as your bodies lay intertwined. His body against yours is like a puzzle, you fit so perfectly together, two pieces coming together to make something more.
He leans in to kiss you, taking in the taste of your lips, the warmth of your skin. His fingers wrap around your neck, caress your throat as he begins to explore your body, leaving a trail of kisses and touch on everything he can reach.
Hands grope the soft flesh of your body, massaging, kneading the soft skin. You moaned when he began to kiss your body, his lips trailing down your jaw, your throat, your collarbone, breasts, nipples, eventually your stomach.
"I want to try a new position." You murmured.
"I'm up for anything, love." Simon replies. He was already in the mood to experiment, seeing the way you were responding to his touch made him giddy with excitement.
"So tell me, what position are we trying?" Simon asks, his fingers moving along your stomach, inching towards your thighs.
Your hips buck forward when he teased the soft skin there, and you have to bite your lip to hold back a moan.
"Reverse cowgirl." You answered his question. "I would like to try reverse cowgirl."
"That can be arranged." Simon replies confidently, a mischievous grin spreading across his lips. He loves that you are taking your own desires and making them known.
Simon moves away so that he's no longer on top of you, his body pressed beside yours. He rolls you and sits you on his hips, supporting himself by leaning on his elbows. Once you’re settled down, he grips your hips and pulls you towards him.
Even when you wanted to be in charge, he took control.
And you fucking loved it. You let yourself sink down on him, letting your warmth embrace him. Your head tilting back when his cock begins to fill you up.
"How's the view?" You giggled softly
"It's perfect." Simon replies, his breathing steady. He makes sure to take in every detail, the flush of your cheeks, the way you move yourself to fit him perfectly.
He pulls you closer, guiding your movements. His thumbs trail down your sides as he grips your hips, letting his fingers slide along your skin. The sight of you is almost addictive, as if he can never get enough of you.
It is a bit unusual, a new position. You are used to seeing his face, to see what you do to him, and with reverse cowgirl you can't.
It’s not that it is bad, it is just.. not as exiting for you, as it is for him. Simon is taking in the full view, your plump ass, the way you take his cock so well. His hands rest on your hips, but he lets you pick the pace.
After a few minutes, your hips stop moving.
You look over your shoulder to see his face, and Simon looks like he is in heaven.
"I.. Can I sit on your face?" You asked, your voice a soft murmur, as if you were afraid to ask it.
Simon's lips curve into a mischievous smile, his eyes gleaming with desire. The thought of you straddling his face sends an jolt of shock through him.
"Oh, that'd be perfect." Simon replies confidently, his breathing speeding up as he imagines the feeling of your body straddling his face.
You let him slip out of you, before you moved yourself upward, your hips straddling his face.
Your dripping wet pussy is hovering above him, and you feel a little nervous. "Two taps if you need some air." You murmured.
You then slowly, lower your pussy down to his face.
Simon's fingers curl into a fist, his body trembling as he watches you move into position. The sight of you hovering above him, looking down on him, is a powerful one. He can't help but let out a low growl at the thought of what you’re going to do.
When your pussy hovers above him, he grips the bedsheets, his breathing becoming faster. He stares up at the beautiful sight before him, his gaze following every inch of your body as you lower yourself towards him. His hands wrap around your thighs to help hold you.
Such an impatient boy.
He grips your thighs and pulls you down to his face. The moment his tongue touches you, you’re done for.
Your head tilts back, and a loud moan escaped your lips. You let your hands roam his chest, caressing the soft skin.
Simon's body trembles at the feeling of your hand on his chest, your touch sending shivers up his spine. It's like a jolt of pleasure when your soft, tender fingers caress his skin. As your hands move down, he continues to massage your thighs, his hands squeezing your skin tight as he pulls you down to his face. He can hear you moan, although the sound is faint, feeling your body tremble as he pushes his tongue into you. He wants to taste it all.
His tongue feels different, but shit does it feel good. "That's it." You moaned softly, your hips slowly riding his face.
Your hands massage his chest, his abs, his body. And it feels amazing. "I love you."
Simon's breath catches in his throat, hearing you admit your love for him sent a wave of warmth through his body. It was almost enough to make him want to stop what he was doing, but he enjoyed pleasing you too much.
His tongue begins to tease and dance, moving from your clit, right back to your wet folds, his fingers continuing to massage your thighs. He moves his hands further up your thighs, sliding them up to your hips.
The stubble on his chin, the way he lets you use his face, God, it is the whole combination that drives her crazy. Her hips begin to move frantic, high pitched moans leaving you as you grip his thigh to hold on to something while you cum on his tongue.
Your thighs tremble and after a second or three you got off his face, panting softly.
When you finally reached your orgasm, he was surprised with how loud your moans became. He was so focused on your body movements, that he had forgot about his own enjoyment.
As you got off his face, Simon's body began to tremble, his body begging for release. But he didn't want to end things here, no, he wanted more.
You straddled him against but before you did anything else, you kissed him, tasting yourself on his tongue.
"Fuck." You groaned. "Fuck that was amazing." You smiled at him. "You deserve the world."
Simon's eyes widen when you tasted yourself on his tongue. That.. that was the hottest thing you could’ve done.
You rolls your hips against his, enjoying his reaction. Rubbing your pussy against his rock hard dick.
"Let me make you feel good."
Simon's body trembles from your movements, as you continue to roll your hips against him. He lets out a sigh as you sink down on him, her warm pussy feeling amazing.
"Oh God..." Simon's breathing becomes faster and faster as he can already feel the release coming. "Don't stop..."
You giggled softly as you heard his words. It seems like eating you out turned him on so much he wouldn't last long. Your hips began to move faster, seeing his face twist in pleasure.
"You've been so good to me." You moaned. "So, so, so good."
"Oh God, don't stop...please." Simon replies, his voice trembling with excitement. It felt like a huge relief to not be in control, as he could just lay and enjoy your movements.
He grips your hips, his fingers digging into your soft skin as he pulls you even closer to him. You have been so good to him, even when he didn't deserve it.
His hands on your hips help you sink down on him even deeper, your pussy engulfing him fully.
You enjoyed seeing him like this, enjoying you so intense. All you wanted was for him to get that same pleasure you had gotten.
There was something so erotic about the visuals of you on top of him like that. He would love to see this view more often.
But right now, his body is beginning to tremble from anticipation, as a huge wave of pleasure comes rushing towards him.
"Oh God..." he whispers as he grips harder onto your hips.
The room begins to fill with the sound of skin against skin as you lean forward to kiss him, his hips bucking upwards to meet her in a desperate movement. You enjoyed being on top more than you had thought and this seemed like the perfect way to end the day.
"Cum for me." You whispered against his lips.
Simon's breath catches in his throat when you lean forward, bodies pressed so closely together.
"Please." his voice trembles as he leans his head up, wanting to kiss you so deep. "Make me."
Your lips capture his again, the kiss is deep, passionate, almost desperate.
"Beg me for it." You answered in a whisper.
Your hips slow down a little bit, wanting to edge him a little bit, not just giving in.
Simon's body trembles, as your words cause his breath to catch in his throat. He is not used to begging anyone for anything, but right now, it is like he is asking for your life.
He looks up at you and lets out a shaky breath, "Please..." his voice comes out hoarse, "Please let me.. please let me feel it."
You know he usually doesn't beg for anything, maybe that is why you like it so much.
"Good boy." You murmured. "Looking so pretty for me while you beg."
Your hips begin to pick up the pace again, and your own head tilts back, your lips slightly parted as you cried out his name, your second orgasm washing over you.
Simon's eyes widen when you call him a "good boy" and the sound of you calling out his name is enough to send him over the edge. He lets out a low, guttural cry as his own release washes over him, his hips bucking up to fill you up as good as he can. After a few moments, he leans up to kiss you.
“Fuuuuck." You feel exhausted when you finally catches your breath, you want to get off him, but your legs feel as if they are about to give out.
"Fuck, Simon. I love you."
The words send Simon's heart fluttering, he's never heard such words before. It felt right, like his heart was finally whole again.
"I love you too."
#call of duty modern warfare 2#cod mw2#call of duty#cod mwii#cod x reader#mw2#fanfic#fanfiction#ao3 fanfic#ao3 writer#simon x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon my beloved
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I have not kept it a secret that this semester commuting has been really rough on me. By the time I get home in the middle of the afternoon even if I only had to sit in a hour and a half lecture I feel like an overcooked noodle. And the mornings aren't any easier, my anxiety has been spiking a lot lately, and that messes me up completly, and it's particularly hard on my stomach. Let's just say it's a very demanding period of my life both physically and emotionally and I have been doing my best to get through it with ups and downs, but most importantly by trying to properly take care of myself. I decided to compile a list of small things that have been helping me, both for future reference as well as for people who might be dealing with similar issues.
Prep everything I can the night before. I don't leave the house until more or less mid morning since my class is on lunch time more or less (and this will come up again), so I do have time to do stuff in the morning, but if I have already put everything I need in my backpack, picked an outfit for the day and checked that I have my bus ticket the night before I can have a much calmer morning. Having a calm morning is fundamental for me on any day, so especially when I have a stressful and energy demanding day ahead I want to make sure I don't have to rush, and here is my second point.
Try to have a morning as calm as possible before I have to leave. I am a morning person so I wake up quite early which means I have plenty of time to take it easy. And this means drink my tea as I read my book, prep the last few things I need, like my waterbottle, eat (on which I'll have a later point). Overall my morning before leaving needs to be slow and mostly made of things for myself so again my precious reading time, listening tocmusic as I get ready to get in a better mood and so on.
Taking my meds regularly. It's the logical thing to do, if I am in a period in which my anxiety is worse than usual the number one goal is to be consistent with meds, they are there to help me even if sometimes I forget that.
Finding ways to enjoy food when anxiety fucks up my stomach. What happens is that as soon as I have an anxiety spike for some reason I get very nauseous, which is terribly by itself and it gets worse when it makes me struggle to enjoy my food. But I found a couple of ways to work around that in the past few weeks. Eating when I am away from home is much worse so what I do is embrace the little hobbit in me and have more meals when I am at home, and just bring some snacks on the road if I need them. That means I have two breakfasts before I have to leave the house, the last being a bit more filling. And then when I get home no matter how tired I am or what time it is I cook something for myself, something simple, but I take the time to make something good that fills me up and makes me happy. Because having a full stomach does improve your mood belove me. When I am on the road I bring some lighter snacks that can help me if I feel like I need to have something but that will also work well if I have a spike in anxiety and correlated nausea. I usually eat some homemade bread while I walk from the bus stop to my uni, and then snack on some nuts while I wait for the lecture. And I always have an emergency sweet treat in my backpack because that is something that I actually do on a regular basis. This thing has been working very well, I have had less problems with my stomach acting up, and I am definitely getting all the nutrients I need during the day, just at times that are a bit different from my normal routine.
Bring tea with me. It's something I never did before but it's becoming the one thing I won't give up. I either make a green tea or an herbal tea that I drink before the lecture, and it's been so good for me both physically and mentally. It's been super cold so the warm treat is really needed, but most importantly it's been very comforting and calming, so shutout to my dad for suggesting that.
Having little things to look out for during the commute. This mostly consists of me listing to podcasts, and re:dracula has been of great company in my commutes last year so it's nice it's become a bit of a tradition. It's just good for me not to associate commuting with negative things, so now I just percieve it as poscast time which makes it much much better. This also includes texing friends when I feel like I can look at the screen of my phone without getting car sick (again when anxiety messes me up I can get random car sickness), that's good to keep my mind off things and make the commute feel lighter.
Total relax when I get home. Which sometimes means lying in bed with a cup of tea and nothing more. If I have enough brain power I might read a comic, or play stupid midless games on my tablet for a bit. Honestly just things that need as little energy and brainpower as possible because by that time I do not have much energy or brainpower left, and it's okay. I normally use up a lot of energy when going out and it this period of time all tasks require I use even more energy. I can't do much about it other than accept it and do my best to tke care of myself.
#i feel like i am forgetting about somethong but these are def the main things#the goal of this weird journaling/list/idk post is to mostly write down what has been helpful for future reference#bc i know myself and i know i always struggle with commuting routines#i also haven't had enough energy to do my usual daily journals so it's a good filler#i will surely get back to my normal style posts at the end of the week#idek how to tag this kglgllf#studyblr#studyinspo#uniblr#university#student life#journal#journaling#commuting#commuting day tips#mine#the---hermit
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Dancing under the Moonlight | Chapter 2. Whiskey nights and heartbreak
Bradley Bradshaw x OC Reader (Nickname Honey)
Summary: After the Uranium Mission, Bradley Bradshaw decides he wants to settle down. Maybe even start a family at some point in time. But he felt so tired (and old) to be in the dating scene. That's until he sees a beautiful new bartender at The Hard Deck. Not only that; turns out she's Penny's niece, Beatrice. They both hit it off amazing, but for some reason, Beatrice isn't letting her walls down yet. But Bradley is going to get to the bottom of what Bea's big secret is.
Warnings: Swearing, angst, drinking, mentions of past abuse, fluff, eventually smut 18+, age gap (24 & 35)
I was getting ready to head out to the bar again for another shift. But I still don’t know why I was getting ready in the first place. Aunt Penny was already at the bar, getting stuff together, Chantal was hanging out with Natasha at her apartment, and Amelia didn't have her license or a car.
So, I didn’t have anyone to pick me up, and drop me off at the bar. When I finished getting my hair up into a messy bun, I heard my phone go off with a text.
B🐓: Hey Honey, working tonight?
I had chills going through my spine and heat going straight to my core. I never felt this way when I was with Zeke, even when he tried to be sweet, and give me little bits of affection.
But when I was around Bradley, he made me feel special, and that I matter in this world. And you would make him feel the same in return.
You: I would, but I don’t have a car to take me to my destination.
B🐓: Ya’ know, I could drive you there. All you gotta do is ask honey.
I roll my eyes and continue texting with Bradley.
You: I don’t want to intrude. Plus weren’t you staying in tonight??
B🐓: I was until I heard you were working tonight.
I run over to your bed and start screaming into the pillow with excitement. And finished getting ready as fast as humanly possible.
A little bit later I was putting the finishing touches on my makeup, looking extra special (for nobody in particular) when I heard the doorbell ring.
I hear Amelia open the door and then hear Bradley's voice ringing throughout the downstairs area. I grab my shoes and head downstairs.
When I reach the bottom of the stairs I and Bradley both look at each other. For some reason, you think you can see a little glimmer in his eye. But you know for a fact that I have the same look on my face.
When you walk the rest of the way over to him, I see he is keeping something behind his back. So, I wanted to ask him what he was keeping from me, but Bradley beat me to it when holds out a bouquet of my favorite Wildflowers—bunches of Chrysanthemums, peonies, and baby’s breath.
When I was younger, in the summertime my mom and Aunt Penny always loved gardening. I would spend ours out in the little garden in our little beach bungalow. Luckily, Penny’s house was right down the street, so she and baby Amelia would always come over and hang outside when mom would plant wildflowers.
When thinking about those amazing memories when your mom was still alive, you wanted to cry. Not caring that Bradley was right in front of you, you have never felt this special in a long time. And you're really happy it was happening right now and with Bradley.
I retreat from letting the tears fall down my face and look back up at Bradley. But noticed we were looking at each other in the eyes, not wanting to look away from those big, beautiful brown irises. Not wanting to look away for not even a minute.
I break the tension when speaking up finally.
“H-how did you know these were my favorite?” looking at him surprised now. “Oh, ya know, a little bee told me,” when you could see him gesturing over to Amelia. Then when you both look over at her, she makes a bolt to the couch and duck in front of it so she won't be seen by either of you. You both let out a little laugh and continue on with your little conversation.
“You shouldn’t have brought these, Penny got some fresh ones from the farmer's market.” I put my head down trying to hide from the embarrassment from the redness building up in my cheeks. But I feel his finger go under my chin so I’m looking back up at him.
“Well honey, these are for you. You deserve something as beautiful as yourself.” I could feel my heart doing backflips with excitement. I’ve never had this kind of reaction with other people I’ve been with. It’s such a new and exciting feeling. But it’s also terrifying. These are new feelings I’m experiencing for the first time, and it’s Bradley who’s making me feel these things.
I snap out of my own thoughts when I see Amiela walk up towards Bradley and me, taking the beautiful bouquet from my hands and telling us both as nicely as possible to leave.
So with that, we are both out the front door, Bradley opening my door and helping me in, and off to the hard deck we go.
While driving down the road, I casually looked over at Bradley, I could see him bopping his head to the old-school music, and tapping his hands on the wheel. I’ve never seen someone so free, and lively before, and I kind of wish I was like that again. Not having a care in the world, and being free.
Ever since I was with Zeke, he would always tell me to quiet down or not to embarrass him when we were out together, then that led to me being self-conscious about everything.
Even when I started working in the lounge, he would always try to control me in some type of way.
Don’t dress so slutty, don’t sing so loud, don’t dance so crazy.
“Are you doing okay over there Honey?” he asks while looking over at me for a second. I stop staring out the passenger window and look over at Bradley, but I already see him have a smile on his face.
“I’m fine,” I say quietly, still looking out the window and watching the waves crash in the distance as we drive by. But I feel one of my hands unclasp from the other and feel a huge one take over. I move my eyes from the window over to Bradley and have one of my hands taken over by him on the center console.
I feel the heat start to rise in your cheeks again and try to hide away your face again. But I feel his hand let go of mine, now feeling stupid because I was hiding away from him. But I feel his pointer finger hook under my chin, so he can get my full attention.
“Don’t hide from me. You know you can talk to me Honey, But I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to.” He tells me and settles his hand on my thigh, giving an affirming squeeze.
I didn’t want to keep anything from him. If I were willing to be with Bradley I would want to make a promise to myself, and to him that I wouldn’t hold anything from him. In my other relationship, that’s because I had to hide things from him. Pulse it didn’t matter that I was telling the truth, he would always take it out on me.
But now I was with Bradley, he made me feel so special all the time, and it felt almost certain he would keep anything from me too.
So I decided to grab ahold of his hand and link our fingers together again, finally having the courage to speak up.
“I-I’ve never really had anybody get me flowers before…Like ever,” I say while looking at him. I see him look over at me, he takes his sunglasses and puts them on the tip of his nose, and you see him raise his eyebrows.
“You tellin’ me you've never received flowers from anyone?” I shake my head implying a “no” I want to try and look away but he speaks up again. “Well I’m honored to be the first Honey.” then gives me a wink and looks back at the road. I feel liquid heat go right down to my little bundle of nerves.
I’m trying my hardest not to think about Bradley like that right now. Pulse, I didn’t know what our relationship was right now.
We held hands when we were together, we kissed on the beach, and he made romantic gestures, opening my door, and getting me flowers. Going above and beyond anyone I’ve ever known. I want to try this new thing with Bradley, but I don’t want to get hurt again. I’m in a good place in life I think right now, and I don’t want that to be ruined by a guy. A nice one at that, so I just want to see what happens. So, we just continued our relaxing drive to the bar.
I was packed when we arrived, but it seemed like it doubled a couple of minutes later when I started my shift.
But, as the night went on, I could see some of the squad came by for a little visit. Also, I saw some of my friends from the lounge come by only saying they wanted to get some drinks out, not to see any of the guys. Which was a lie. But I let it slide anyway.
It was starting to get pretty hectic, going back and forth from the tables to the bar. I honestly thought I was going to pass out from exhaustion.
But when I needed a breather Bradley would always come up to the bar, and ask how I was feeling. It seemed I would always have my senses calm down, and made me feel ten times better.
Right now I was working behind the bar, and trying to make five drinks at a time. I was starting to feel the pressure start back up again. But I see Aunt Penny come up towards me saying that I could take a quick break. Maybe seeing the fear and stress in my eyes.
Just as I was about to leave behind the bar this guy started yelling in my direction. I turned around to see a frat-looking guy in a polo shirt, who was heavily intoxicated asking me for a beer. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bradley looking at me ready to get up from his seat and make his way over with some of the guys ready to kick him out. But I give him a look telling him I was okay, and make my way over to the dunk man.
As I went to serve him another beer, I saw Aunt Penny come over to me and whisper in my ear. “Give him a glass of water, he’s wasted out of his mind. If he gives you any trouble. He’s gone.” I give her a nod, and I start to pour him a glass.
As I got the man his beer(which was water)I set the glass down on the bar top, he stumbled a little bit and gave a slurred speech to me.
“I said a funckin’ beer, not water bitch.” So he shoves the glass back in my direction. But I slide the glass back over. “Sir, I'm sorry but by the looks of it, you are drunk. So I’m afraid I cannot continue to serve you.” I say in a polite voice trying to keep the situation at bay.
He wants to put on a show, so I try to walk away to go and take my break. But I hear glass shattering around me. The drunk asshole didn’t like being told no, so he decided to chuck the glass in my direction trying to hit me. Luckily it hit the ground before it hit me so I was physically fine. But when I heard that glass shatter on the floor. I wanted to crawl up into a ball and never come out.
Hearing that specific noise brought back so many memories. Horrible, sad, awful memories I never wanted to look back on. My hands start shaking uncontrollably, and I can feel tears slipping out of my eyes. I feel a touch on my shoulder, not knowing it was Aunt Penny, but I was too much of a wreck at this point.
So I flinch from her touch and start to make my way out to the back not wanting to be there anymore, and wanting to get some fresh air.
When I finally make it outside, I try my best to take deep breaths but it feels like a heavy weight is still on my chest.
I brace myself on the back wall, and I start to crumble down to the ground and start to sob uncontrollably.
(Bradley’s POV)
As soon as I hear the glass shatter on the floor, some of the guys sprint towards the bar. I tried to find where Beatrice was, but I could see she was already gone. The guys went over to the drunk guy
Grabbing him
I snap my head towards Penny to see where Bea went, she just points to the back door, and I make my way out.
I’m finally outside, the cool air hitting my face, and I start looking for Bea. I find her a couple of seconds later, sitting against the back wall, her knees up to her face hiding away from everything. As I try to walk towards her I see her head come up to look at me, and I hear her speak up.
“P-please go a-away.” She sounds so scared, and frightened. Thinking I might hurt her, but we both knew deep down I wouldn’t do that. So, I backed away a little bit “I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m gonna sit down a couple feet away, okay?” I say to her while backing away.
She doesn’t respond and lets my back hit the wall, letting my body slide down to the ground.
A couple of minutes later, we were still in complete silence. The only thing we can hear are the big waves crashing against the shore. A little bit later, I hear Beatrice speak up.
“I’ve never reacted like that before. Anytime he would throw anything or hit me, I wouldn’t react. I would just stand there. Unfazed, not connected with the world. I would zone out, and try to go to a place that would make me happy.” I just keep sitting there and letting her speak. But I try to inch toward her, she sees me moving, and she’s not telling me to stop. So, I keep moving until our knees are touching.
“I-I would always try and think of my mom, Aunt Penny, Chantal, and even Amelia when she was just a baby. We would all hang out and have a fun day at the beach. After that, we would all go to this little ice cream shack, not far from here. Chantal and I would always get the same flavors as my mom… I just wanted to be like her.” She grabs my hand and links our fingers together, and a second later, she leans her head on my shoulder.
“I try to go every once in a while, but it always makes me sad and broken… b-because she’s not here anymore. I’m so tired of being broken, Bradley.” I feel some of her tears fall onto my shirt, so I just wrap my arms around her, and let her break down in peace.
(Back to your POV)
A little bit later when my tears were dried and my hiccups were gone, I removed my head from Bradley’s shoulder and tried to collect myself. When I brush my hair away from my face I hear Bradley start talking.
“Listen to me carefully… you are not broken. You're just in a weird place in time right now. I was the same when my mom passed, I didn’t know what to do with myself.”
This was the first time I’ve really heard him speaking about his mom to me. Even though he told me a little bit a couple of weeks ago, I feel a little special that he wants to tell me more about his family, and himself.
“When I finally got accepted into the academy, I would always push myself more and more, because I didn’t have anyone with me in my life. But I finally found a little family of my own. So now I feel like it matters now.”
I see him smile down at me and give my forehead a little kiss. “Plus, I met you, and you kind of make my life a little bit more special. And I am so grateful for that.” My heart once again was doing little backflips of joy in my chest. I give his hand a little squeeze and bring it up to my lips to kiss his knuckles.
“Thank you for telling me about her. Thank you for not keeping it from me.” We both sit in silence for a little bit until I hear him talk again. “You're a special person in my life now, Honey. I don’t want to keep anything from you.” “You're special in my life too,” you say in a quiet voice. And you feel him give you another kiss on your forehead.
A couple of seconds later you see Bradley get up from the rock ground, dusting his jeans off and offering a hand to help me up. I just look at him with a questionable look with my eyebrows raised. “ I wanna take you somewhere. Are you coming or not?” He tells me.
“I-I have to ask Penny if I can leave.” He just gives me a warm smile, “Let’s go grab your stuff, and ask her. Okay?” I just nod and grab his hand to let him help me up.
When we got back inside, Aunt Penny was sprinting towards Bradley and me, making sure that I was okay. I was trying my best to calm her down saying Bradley helped me calm down a little bit, and was asking if I could leave early. Telling me it was fine, and asking Bradley to bring me home safe.
“I’ll protect her with my life.” That was the last thing he said, útil he grabbed my hand and walked out with me to the parking lot.
As soon as Bradley was closing my door and walking over to the driver’s side, my eyes were starting to become heavy. The only thing I could remember hearing was his voice across from me. “Rest Honey, we'll be there soon.” My eyes fluttered close and everything around me turned black.
I feel the car come to a stop, and someone gently touches my arm trying to wake me up. I open a little bit, and I look over at Bradley, with a wide-set grin appearing on his face.
“We’re here honey,” he says to me, I give him a skeptical look before I look straight ahead when my eyes fall on the little, old-school ice cream shack with the fairy lights dangling from the outside. I’ve never wanted to cry so hard in my life. I hear him speak up again.
“What I forgot to tell you earlier, is that my mom and I would always come here anytime we were visiting my dad here. I almost completely forgot about this place, until you brought it up earlier.” You try your hardest not to let the tears start flowing again. You’ve never had someone in your life make you feel this special. Going out of his way to make your night a little bit more special than it was before. To be honest, I feel like I’m on cloud nine right now, with Braldey, at this little ice cream shop. Never wanted this moment to end, and to live in it forever.
I watched Braldeey get out of the car and walk over to open your door. He helped you unbuckle your seat belt and grabbed your hand to help you out, but you’ve never let his hand go and walked up to the entrance and ordered.
When you finished ordering and waiting for our treats, for some reason I never wanted to let go of Bradley. I was holding onto his arm, trying to hide my face a little bit because my eyes were still a little puffy from crying earlier. And I would feel every couple of seconds, his lips hitting the crown of my head and asking if I was okay. In return, I would get up on my tip-toes and give his soldier a little peck, indicating to him that I was fine. We would do that every couple of minutes until our ice cream was handed to us, and we found a little bench to sit on while eating.
After we finished our little treat, we just sat on the bench for a little while, listening to the waves, and looking up at the fairy lights twinkling outside. We just sit in silence, with my head on Bradley’s shoulder, I finally have the courage to muster something up.
I lift my head from his shoulder and see him already looking at me. “Bradley… c-can I tell you something?” I can see him forming a smile on his face.
“Of course, you can tell me anything.” In return, I give him a half smile and start letting my whole heart out.
“I like you…and I think… I think you like me back, right?” I just see him nod his head quickly, and continue. “Okay, I don’t want you to think I’m going to say I don’t want to be in a relationship with you. I DO! It's just I came out of a really bad one earlier and-” My heart is beating fast, I’m starting to breathe heavily, I don’t know what to do. But I just feel a big set of hands on each side of my face, and I’m looking straight into his eyes.
“Hey, hey, hey. Calm down, you're okay. You’re here with me, we’re at the ice cream shack. You’re safe. Just breathe with me. In, and out. That’s good Honey.”
I feel one of my hands go up to his chest, feeling his heartbeat, feeling the thump thump through his shirt. I can also feel my heartbeat starting to slow down a little bit, so I just keep looking at him, trying to keep myself from having a panic attack.
Once I’m starting to calm a little bit, I’m still holding onto Bradley’s shirt still feeling the thump of his heart, not wanting to let go. So he moves his hands from my face wraps one of his arms around my body, and moves me closer to him. I let a few tears fall down my cheeks, not caring if people see me being an absolute wreck.
“I just want to start slow…if we were going to do this whole thing.” You say as your face is pressed up against his chest. “We can go as slow as you want. The ball is in your court. Okay, Honey?” He makes me look up at him, looking into his big, honey golden, eyes. Once again finding comfort in him once again. “Okay,” you say to him, curling up into his chest again.
Then next I know I feel Bradley's hands reach underneath my legs, and lift me. I squeak out a little bit, suddenly not knowing I was being lifted in the air. “Bradley! What are you doing?” I ask him while he’s still walking back to the Bronco. Not stopping for one second. “Is it too fast to call you my girlfriend?” he asked you while you were both almost in the car.
I shake my head no, and rest my head on his shoulder. “Then, I'm carrying my girlfriend to the car.” I feel the heat build-up in my cheeks and feel the heat going straight to my core again.
This guy, who’s carrying you to his car, just asked you to be his girlfriend like 5 seconds ago.
How on earth does he make you this wet?!?
He doesn’t set me down for one second. He successfully unlocked the car, opened the door, and carefully set me in the passenger seat making sure I was buckled in. He jogged around the car and next stop. Aunt Penny’s house.
When I finally get to the house, I get out of the car, Bradley and I walk up to the door together. We both stop when we reach the last step. We both have our hands together, not wanting to let go. Not wanting to let go of this special night.
“I’ll see you this week, Honey,” he asks me while tugging my arm so I can be closer to him. Bodies almost touching. I couldn’t stop myself, so I grabbed his face and connected my lips to his in a searing kiss. So happy finally feeling free, and having something for my own. Finally feeling happy for once in my life.
After you pull back a little to catch your breath, I can feel Bradley's lips chase after mine. Wanting more from it, but us both know I need to catch a break. My chest is heaving, both smile in the process too, and after I’m done, I speak up. “Yea. I’ll see you later this week.” I hear him let out a breathy chuckle, then see him back away a little bit.
He doesn’t leave the porch until he sees me walk in and lock the door. I can hear him walk back down, and the Branco backing out. After I can’t hear the car anymore, I slump to the ground, my back hitting the door with a dopey grin on my face. Wondering what I just got into with Bradley Bradshaw. But I didn’t care one bit.
I decided to surprise all of you lovely people. Thank you for waiting and sticking with me. I appreciate you all. ❤️
As always-
Reblogs are always welcome. Unless you're under 18. I will block you. and comment if you want to be added to the taglist. If I forgot anybody message me and let me know. You will be added.
Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @shanimallina87 @angelbabyyy99 @callsign-magnolia @nerdgirljen
Once again dividers are by @saradika
#bradley rooster bradshaw#tgm fic#rooster x reader#rooster top gun#tgm oc#top gun maverick#bradley bradshaw x reader#top gun fanfiction
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Eddie asked Steve to help with his oral fixation, and Steve agreed.
wc: 1k4 | tags: rimming, a dash of daddy kink and breeding kink
"You want me what?" Steve turned away from the TV to squint at his roommate.
"I have this thing call oral fixation," Eddie explained easily. "Which means I need to get my mouth busy all the time."
Steve hummed noncommittally and nodded in understanding. "I see, we can buy lollipops–"
Eddie cut him off with a chaste kiss that turned heated quickly.
"I think you're already sweet enough for me, angel." Eddie whispered once they parted with a transparent thread connecting their lips.
Blushing, he laughed weakly and pushed Eddie away. "Alright, I'm gonna help you, dude. Don't need to butter me up like that."
"I know you're my favorite for a reason, Stevie," Eddie grinned, all sunshine and rainbow again when he wasn't trying to shove his tongue down Steve's throat.
And Steve was too eager to help that it never crossed his mind friends didn't made out with each other and called it a day.
Since then, Eddie would just sidle up behind him every time he was in the middle of something, bend him over any surface that was available at the moment, tugged his shorts down, and eat him out.
Once Eddie was done, he would clean Steve up nicely, tucked him in, and walked away as if nothing had ever happened.
Leaving Steve staring in bewilderment and arousal.
They never talked about it. They just treated it as this special thing between them, their little secret.
It also helped that they lived together. More convenient for Eddie whenever his craving decided to act up.
Gradually, it became their routine, they could be watching TV on the couch and Eddie would flip him over, burying his face into Steve's ass before digging into it.
Steve never thought having someone rim him would be cozy.
But Eddie always managed to surprise him most days, and this was no exception either.
Sometimes, he'd get so comfortable that he just dozed off and then woke up feeling floaty with Eddie's fingers combing through his hair gently.
Or occasionally, he'd simply read a book while Eddie lapped at his hole for hours.
It felt almost domestic if he dared to say.
Things remained like that until one day, when Eddie kept licking at that bundle of nerves, Steve didn't even have time to react before he came.
His moan was loud and high-pitched, and Steve blushed terribly once he realized what just happened.
"Did I just...?" He glanced back at Eddie, wide eyed and disbelieved.
"You just did, baby boy," Eddie grinned at him like a shark, red tongue tracing the pearly canines that always painted reds and purples on Steve's cheeks and thighs.
Steve didn't know what to do. He had grown to enjoy the feeling of Eddie's tongue fucking him so much that he just had an orgasm due to it.
It should give him shame and
embarrassment, but all he felt was a burning need to fill the hollowness inside him.
He wanted to be full.
"Can I ask you something?" Steve licked his lips nervously.
"Yeah? What is it?" Eddie stroked his lower back soothingly, but those eyes were dark and heavy as they pinned him in place.
"Can you give me more?" Steve breathed slowly, the air was so charged that it was almost suffocating.
"More what?" Eddie raised a curious brow while petting his hole temptingly.
"More than your tongue," Steve bit out, muscles pulled taut and heart racing.
He couldn't help but arch his ass toward those calloused fingers, seeking and craving for more.
Without warning, Eddie slipped a finger inside him and proceeded to pull out and push in slowly.
"Like this?"
Steve gasped and tried to clench down on the thick and long digit.
Granted, he had fingered himself multiple times, but when Eddie did it, it just hit different.
Surreal, thrilling, and exciting were all he could sum up.
"Eddie," he moaned, breathless and needy.
"Yeah, baby?" Eddie added another slicked finger and if Steve wasn't too horny to care, he'd definitely remember that they didn't stash lube anywhere nearby.
"Fuck me," he rolled his eyes back as Eddie stroked that spot again. "Bet y– your cock would reach deeper, feel better."
"Jesus," Eddie let out an amused huff. "When did you become such a slut, hm?" He crooked his fingers, making Steve see the fucking Milky Way. "What did you do to my good boy who'd blush prettily every time I teased him?"
"Your good boy is asking you to fuck him," Steve whined and undulated his hips to chase after that toes-curling pleasure.
"Is that so?" Eddie chuckled and retreated his fingers.
Before Steve could complain, he felt something hot and thick slowly breached his loose hole.
By the time Eddie was seated fully inside him, he was drooling and cross eyed, being stuffed full and stretched to the seams.
"Still good?" Hot lips brushed against the shell of his ear.
"Y– Yeah," he slurred. "Sooo good."
Eddie was nothing he imagined. Somehow, Eddie was better than tongue and fingers could ever be.
"Gonna fuck you til you cry," Eddie murmured huskily, full of promise and hunger. "Gonna ruin you for good."
Steve couldn't say anything, mouth agape as the source of heat inside him started moving, dragging every little noise and breathy moan out of him.
He felt drunk, high, and stupid. If only he didn't chicken out every time he was about to confess to Eddie, then they could've had this sooner.
He'd have been railed to his heart's content, would've been allowed to taste Eddie's cock, would've had Eddie in his bed instead of having to jerk himself off roughly in his room after being eaten out by Eddie every time.
He had wasted so much time, missed so many chances.
"Love you," he mewled into his folded arms. "Love you so much, Eddie. Love your stupid cock, love your stupid tongue, love your stupid smiles."
Eddie cursed quietly and stopped moving. The lack of motions got Steve whine his complaint loudly.
"Did you mean it?" Eddie nipped the tip of his ear, voice so low and raspy that it almost sounded like a growl.
When Steve took too long to answer, Eddie snapped his hips and punched out a chocked-off moan out of him.
"Did you mean it, Steve?"
"I m– meant it," he nodded blindly.
Eddie pulled out and carefully flipped him on his back. "Say it again."
Now, they were face to face, Steve suddenly felt shy. He made grabby hands at Eddie, needing close contact to soothe his nerves.
Eddie's features softened visibly as he gathered Steve into his lap.
He cupped Steve's face gently and placed tender kisses on it.
Meanwhile, Steve couldn't stand the emptiness inside him any longer, so he grabbed Eddie's cock and impelled himself on it once more.
The new angle knocked his breath away, making him dizzy and delirious.
"I love you," he sighed softly, feeling more settled when he was full.
"Love you too, sweetheart," Eddie held him securely and kissed him fondly. "My pretty cock slut, aren't you?"
"Mhm," he wrapped his arms around broad shoulders and met those brown eyes, so sweet and loving. "All yours, daddy."
That was the last coherent thing he uttered.
Because as soon as he let the title slip, Eddie had railed him within an inch of his life until he forgot his own name.
At some point, he had convinced Eddie to take off the condom.
"Don't you want to knock me up, daddy?"
Apparently, Eddie was a huge perv and more than on board with Steve's baby fever.
Needless to say, they had had spent a long time in the shower later to help Steve wash out the cum.
But in Steve's opinion, it was worth all the trouble when Eddie got on his knees and ate him out until he cried and squirted messily on the tiled floor.
Afterward, once they both left the bathroom in fresh clothes and climbed into bed together, they had talked and kissed and giggled before drifting off in each other's arms.
Who would've thought helping out your friend would lead you to your happiness?
Definitely not Steve.
Not that he would complain when it led him to Eddie, though.
———
Anyway, I live for free use!Steve who's only available for Eddie.
Steve: *simply exists*
Eddie: Oh my god, all of this goodness just for me?
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#eddie always said 'thanks for the meal' every time he finished eating steve's cake#sionewritesatmidnight
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East Blue Polycule, yeah? Let me headcanon-dump onto you, stranger who didn't ask for it!
They overall love one another equally (in their own unique ways), but they do have favorites (keep it a secret though 🤭🤫🫡).
Luffy doesn't favor anyone in particular, but he has the most fun with Usopp and the most 'emotional' (big quotes on that) times with Zoro.
Speaking of the Lettuce Demon, his favorite is obviously Luffy, I need not elaborate on this point. He was the first and he will be the last.
Sanji's favorites are Nami and Usopp, Nami in the more silly yet beloving sense. She'll often tease him for being such a simpy simp, but will happily give him some love every now and then. Usopp is constantly around, not just Sanji but the whole crew, and through that Nicotine Kicker kind of just got used to him being THE first one he'd go to (aside captainly stuff and such). They behave more like married folks who've been together for around 10 years most of the time, but this doesn't take away from Sanji's simpyness. Sanji simps for all his partners, but he only visibly does it with Nami and semi-visibly with Usopp. The other two are far more casual.
Nami's favorite is Vivi (surprise! I got this idea from another post, I don't remember the poster, but aaaugh I love it!!!), but out of the crew it's Usopp. Vivi and Nami are one-to-one, the blue gurl isn't dating anyone else. They keep in contact by constantly sending each other letters and SNÄILIN'!!! Usopp is Nami's crew-favorite because... well... they're besties. They bond over so much, and they're the most open in the relationship with one another (close second being Luffy and Zoro tied with Sanji and Usopp, followed by Luffy and Nami, ect ect).
Usopp's favorites are Nami (because of stated bonding) and Sanji (because of their incredible connection), but Luffy deserves an honorable mention as Usopp spends a lot of time and has a blast with him!! Sometimes they also take two-on-two time, rarely it can turn into a little bit of a quiet session, but usually they rave about future adventures and plans. Sometimes Luffy makes Usopp come up with a 'bedtime story', but it's just an excuse to see the sniper get so passionate and think about another adventure!
(This is also from that other poster, aaaaa thank you for infecting my brain with this incredible rot) Aside Vivi, Kaya is dating both Nami and Usopp! They rarely manage to talk, but when they do their sessions are long and if someone disturbs them it's game over for them!
Now onto the funsy headcanons!
Nami and Usopp browse magazines together on a daily basis (sometimes Robin joins them as the cool mother of the group), and they plan some cool and absolutely ✨️SLAY✨️ outfits none of them can ever wear.
Zoro and Sanji have a little bit of a play-competition going on constantly. They get genuinely pissed off by the other often times, but sometimes they make something a competition as an excuse to angrily make out against the kitchen wall (they definitely 'sword'fight about who tops)
Luffy doesn't completely process the relationship as a, well, romantic relationship. He's more in it for the good times, and because he loves the peeps! He's overall fine with more strictly romantically-viewed things, but sometimes he just doesn't want to. One second he will say "Zoro, crush me with your arms", the next he sees Franky and Robin (the cool parents) kissing and he goes "BLEUGH I'm going to need a shovel to transport this bullshit out of my mouth BLEHHHHHH"
Usopp is the most insecure and unstable in the relationship. He's very people-pleasery, while also trying to keep up a persona. If he ever emotionally talks it's usually to Nami, sometimes to Sanji within the relationship, but outside of it he confides in Franky (the awesome dadster) and Jinbe (the ultimately best grandpops). He tries to get better, but fails to realise how. He has fun with everyone, seeks to be around them at all times, but sometimes he can't help but disappear. If you don't see him at breakfast give him until lunch, at that point it's suitable to check-in. Who knows what the thoughts in his head have made him do.
Sanji has a dedicated notebook/ramblebook about each one of the peeps. Sometimes when he can't sleep, or someone just did something he found notable, he whips out a book and starts going "September 1st, 1989, dear diary-" oh shit, wrong fandom.
Zoro is the one that has to be dragged into things the most, he does go willingly as well but his solitude is important to him. This being said he usually doesn't mind Luffy or Usopp chilling around if he's laying back, sometimes they can ramble and do their own thing as well. A lot of the time it's just sitting and silently contemplating on things, with Usopp at least. If Luffy doesn't have stimulation for five seconds he'll gomu-gomu the ship.
Nami absolutely loves physical contact, but sometimes feels bad that she can't see her girlfriends and feel them around. In these cases she'll request some physical space until things have settled, but sometimes that can make her even more clingy. She usually seeks out Usopp, but will cling onto someone else if he isn't to be seen.
Luffy found a new appreciation for various relationship through the polycule. This also helped him think more healthily about his past, those who are gone and those who are alive. He's managed to settle some feelings, but a lot of experiences still hinder his head. He doesn't think about those things that much, and besides if he feels down he will quite literally start deflating. A quick munch of food, mention of stories or a good song will always cheer him right up.
Usopp actively leaves gifts for everyone around the ship (to the ones outside the relationship as well, but extra for the peeps). They're handmade, and they range from silly notes/drawings with cheesy jokes to actual equipment/tools and sometimes even clothing and jewelry.
I COULD GO ON FOR SO LONG, BUT IF YOU READ THIS FAR THANK YOU FOR BEING AN ENJOYER!!!! And drink some water, you're dehydrated you fucking amazing dewdrop angel baby
HAVE A GOOD TIMEZONE!!!
#one piece#god usopp#black leg sanji#monkey d. luffy#roronoa zoro#one piece zoro#usopp one piece#vinsmoke sanji#one piece luffy#cat burglar nami#one piece nami#text post#east blue polycule#headcanon#shipping#long post
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You are not Alone - 5,709 Words
Set after The Bad Batch Season 3, this fic takes place after the war is over and Omega returns home! She brings home some friends... and a secret.
This will be part of a series of works that covers Omega's time in the rebellion and all of the heart attacks she gives her family!
As always, the link to my AO3 is here and the link to my Bad Batch master list on Tumblr is here. I hope you enjoy!
--------
Crosshair rolled his eyes as he watched Hunter pace the short length of the living room once more.
“Wearing a hole in the floor isn’t going to bring her back quicker,” he commented, not unkindly. He knew how anxious Hunter was to see his daughter again after so long… kriff, he may have looked cool on the outside but on the inside his stomach was doing somersaults. Hunter scowled and sent his brother a sour look that told him everything he needed to know.
Shut up.
Noted, thought Crosshair as he sighed and leaned back in his seat. No point in wasting time pacing when Omega was due to arrive in… an hour? He’d save his jitters until ten minutes before.
It had been an ordinary day on Pabu for the three brothers when they’d received the hologram. The transmission had beeped irritatingly, waking all three of them up; Hunter had practically sprinted to the machine, calling over his shoulder for the others as he recognised Omega’s call sign straight away.
“Hey,” came the staticky voice of the young woman they had been waiting to hear from for weeks. Normally she was pretty good at keeping up with transmissions but an emergency operation had called her away. Something about rescuing a fellow pilot from Jabba the Hutt…
Needless to say, Hunter hadn’t been best pleased when she’d revealed that to the group.
“Omega!” Hunter smiled warmly, though Crosshair knew that his kid would be able to see straight through the mask he was wearing. “How are you? Where’ve you been?”
There was no reply for a moment, and Wrecker frowned.
“Maybe the signal’s faulty?” he asked, only for Omega to shake her head. She was silent, but through the sound of static Crosshair just made out the sound of a sniffle.
“What’s wrong, Omega? Are you hurt?” Hunter had clearly heard it as well, and had Crosshair not wanted to ask the same questions, he would have rolled his eyes.
The woman shook her head, pony tail bobbing as she did so. “I’m not hurt,” she managed to croak out. She sniffed loudly and glanced down at herself. “Well I might be a little bruised but it’s okay. Rex sorted me out.”
So Omega had been with Rex? That soothed Hunter a little. Even though Rex was also ageing, the ex-sergeant trusted the man with his kid. He nodded, still clearly concerned and Crosshair sighed. What was making her cry then?
Wrecker seemed to share his sentiment.
“What’s got ya crying then, kid?” he asked. “You good?” Wrecker’s hearing had deteriorated a bit over the years; the clone now wore a device to help him hear, though he still had a habit of speaking louder than possibly necessary.
Omega let out a watery laugh at that, and a shaky smile spread across her face. She drew in a shuddering breath before carrying on.
“It’s over. We won.”
There was a moments silence before all of a sudden all three of the clones were cheering loudly. They had grinned and congratulated her. They’d never doubted her abilities of course, but it could be hard fighting in a battle that felt like it had no end in sight.
“I’m coming home,” she continued, though there was a slight hesitation to her voice. Hunter raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to elaborate further. Something was clearly on her mind.
“Is it alright if I bring a couple of friends? They… need a break.”
No one asked questions about who Omega’s friends were, or why indeed they needed a break. Questions like that simply weren’t asked on Pabu. Everyone was welcome as long as they didn’t pose a threat to the peaceful lives of those that lived there.
It was agreed, Omega would arrive as soon as possible (one standard rotation) and she would be bringing two friends with her. Now all the others had to do was wait.
Simple.
Completely and utterly simple…
… or at least it should have been. Hunter was clearly having a hard time remembering to chill the kriff out. No one could blame him, Crosshair supposed. It wasn’t every day you daughter upped and left to join a rebellion. The ex-sergeant had suffered his fair share of near-heart attacks when he’d received comm messages from Omega declaring that she was going undercover and that no one should contact her unless absolutely necessary. The first time she had gone comm silent, Hunter had spent a week staring at his comm device, waiting for it to beep. He’d nearly cried when he’d finally heard her voice again.
Of course, there had also been the time Hunter had actually been summoned to Omega’s aid… he’d been there in a heartbeat, of course, but Crosshair had been the one to break up the argument that came when Omega wanted to re-join the rebellion. Hunter had refused to talk to his brother and kid the whole evening, but had crumbled in the morning when Omega had brought him his usually cup of caf with a watery, hopeful smile.
There had been nothing but short conversations every week or so since that time, which now that Crosshair thought about it, was nearly a year ago. It was high time Omega came home.
——
Wrecker bounded through the door of the hut, shocking Hunter and Crosshair; of the three of them, Wrecker had been the one to maintain most of his youthful energy… just not as much as he was displaying now.
“She’s here!” he cried, and suddenly both of the other clones were on their feet. Injuries and ageing combined meant that both of them had slowed down a little, with Hunter now favouring one leg (and refusing to use a walking stick), and Crosshair having to slow his pace a little.
Upon their arrival at the Archium, they were greeted by an achingly familiar ship… Omega’s ship.
The ramp hissed open, and Hunter took the opportunity to observe the level of carbon scoring on the front. What had she been up to? He tried not to think about it as he heard footsteps heading towards the ship’s ramp; he stared hopefully, waiting for Omega to exit.
Then, suddenly she was there, hair a little longer, eyes a little more tired. Her bag was slung over one shoulder and she carried Lula under one arm whilst her other…
… bore a sling.
Hunter moved towards the woman, a frown on his face as he went to examine her arm.
“What happened?” he asked, stooping a little to examine the sling. Omega rolled her eyes, a fond smile on her face.
“Hello to you too, buir,” she teased before wrapping in him a hug that forced him to stop looking at her bandaged arm. He sighed contentedly as they stood in her embrace. She was here! Injured and tired, but she was here.
Hunter finally felt as though he could breathe again.
“Missed, you, ‘Mega,” he croaked out, his voice thick with emotion. The woman sniffled in response; she was clearly fighting back the tears as well.
She pulled back from the embrace before going to each of her brothers; Wrecker wrapped her in his arms and Hunter knew that if he was still able she’d be up in the air like she had been when she was little.
Then came Crosshair. She smiled at the ex-sniper before slinging her good arm around him. He hugged her back, muttering something about “definitely checking out her bandages later” under his breath. She rolled her eyes fondly as she pulled away.
“You sound just like buir,” she teased. Crosshair huffed, trying to look unimpressed.
“Oh, I’m much worse.”
Omega let out a small huff of laughter at that. She turned back to the ramp of her ship, smiling as the patter of small feet could be heard.
“Auntie ‘Meg!” A little boy came barrelling down the ship’s ramp; he stopped short when he spotted the three old men looking at him, surprised. When Omega had said that she was bringing home friends… they hadn’t thought that one of them would be under the age of five.
“Hey, Jacen!” the young woman smiled and held out her good arm. The little boy, Jacen, ran over to her and into her embrace. Hunter blinked. This was Omega, his little girl, ruffling a little boy’s hair and being called ‘auntie?’ Suddenly the ex-sergeant felt his age as he absorbed the situation.
Omega glanced up at her family, a small laugh escaping her as she looked at their faces. The small child with her stared around at the clones, a look of curiosity on his face.
“Who’re these old men, Auntie ‘Meg?” he asked in a loud whisper that only made Omega laugh more. She put her arm around the little boy and nodded to each of them as she introduced them. “These, Jacen,” she started. “Are my buir and my brothers. This is Hunter, Crosshair and Wrecker.”
Jacen nodded, his mop of dark green hair bobbing as he did. “They helped your mum once, on her home planet. That’s how me and her met.”
The penny dropped as Hunter realised whose kid this was. He glanced back up a the ramp of Omega’s ship only to see Hera Syndulla herself; she looked worn out as she clambered down and towards the group. Upon seeing the three clones, she smiled warmly. Hunter hadn’t seen her since their time on Ryloth all of those years ago, and he couldn’t believe how much she’d grown… saying that, he still couldn’t believe how much Omega had grown and she’d done that in from of his very eyes.
“Hunter,” she greeted with a sly smile before she ruffling her son’s hair. “Thank you for having us.”
Hunter nodded. “Of course,” he responded, glancing at Omega, who was now tickling Jacen and making him squeal. “You’re welcome any time.”
Hera raised an eyebrow as she observed the clone, but said nothing. She simply greeted the rest of the family, thanking them all for their hospitality, before Omega stood to her full height once more.
“I’ll show you around,” she gushed. “You’ll love it here!”
——
That evening, the family sat down with Hera and Jacen, eating foods that had been prepared for Omega’s return. Hunter had noticed throughout the evening that there were times when Omega was about to take something from a plate, only for her to glance up at Hera as though asking a silent question. The Twi’lek would then either nod or shake her head. Occasionally his daughter would sigh and pout when her friend shook her head, which confused Hunter to no end. Was Hera controlling what Omega was eating? What was going on?
He didn’t get a great deal to ponder over his kid’s new habit though, because one Jacen Syndulla was chatting up a storm with his new-found friends. At one point, Hera had to ask him to actually stop talking so that the little boy could eat the food on his plate. It had made Wrecker chuckle, and Crosshair let out a small sigh of relief.
Hunter used the opportunity to turn his attention back to Omega; he’d overheard the young woman complaining that her boots were getting too small earlier, and Lyanna chiming in that it was completely normal for that to happen. Hunter tried to wrack his brain, confused as anything. Omega was an adult, there was no reason that her feet should be growing now. He should know, he was the one who’d had to buy her new boots what felt like every six months at one point.
His little girl also looked even more tired than usual, but he chalked that up to the end of the war. Even so, Hera had been mothering her a bit; there had been multiple reminders to sit and relax for a while, only for those comments to be met with a scowl from Omega.
His kid still didn’t like being told what to do, but this dynamic between the pair of them still made no sense to him.
As the evening rolled on, Crosshair had produced a variety alcoholic drinks as well as a jug of fruit juice for Jacen to drink; it had definitely not been lost on Hunter when Omega opted to drink the juice instead of a fruity punch that she would normally drink with her family.
Not long after that Jacen had started to flag, prompting Hera to encourage him to say goodnight to his new friends.
Jacen pouted upon hearing the words “bed time.”
“But Auntie ‘Meg’s family still haven’t heard all of our stories!” he cried, saddened by the injustice of it all. The grown ups all chuckled lightly as Omega crouched down in front of the little boy.
“We can keep telling them tomorrow, kid,” she started with a smile. “Now, your mum told me you like twinkly lights… wanna see the ones in my old room? You and Hera can sleep there tonight.”
Jacen immediately perked up at the mention of the string of lights Wrecker had hung up years ago. Hunter smiled fondly as he remembered Omega’s face when she’d seen them; she’d cried a little because of how they reminded her of the Marauder.
Hera stood and snagged her friend’s good arm.
“Omega, we couldn’t possibly take your bed,” she started. “Not when…” she trailed off and not for the first time that evening, Hunter’s stomach did a flip. He didn’t get much time to think about it when the other woman shook her head. She was determined.
“You need somewhere to sleep,” she insisted. “Besides, you and Jacen won’t fit on the couch. I will.”
Hera crossed her arms, looking like she was about to fight Omega on the subject when Jacen took her hand with a pleading look on his face.
“I wanna see the lights, mum!” he grinned, tugging on her arm. Hera sighed and nodded, bidding the family goodnight before going to put her son to bed.
She sent a look over her shoulder to Omega as she went. It was a questioning glance, but Omega waved her off, a nervous smile on her face.
Wrecker and Crosshair disappeared into the kitchen, bickering over who was going to clean up and who was going to dry. Hunter chuckled as he heard them go, sitting forward in his seat and pouring himself another drink. He had never been a huge drinker, knowing that the alcohol messed with his senses, but since the fall of Hemlock he didn’t mind having a drink with his family. He offered the jug of punch to Omega, knowing it was her favourite, but frowned when she shook her head.
“I’ve still got a cup,” she stated by way of explanation. That was a lie. Her ears were a little flushed and she bit her lip, a telltale sign that she was lying. She had always been an awful liar.
“You never took any in the first place,” he replied, not unkindly. “You okay, kid?” Her eyes widened, knowing she’d been caught. Omega curled up on the bench she was sat on, bringing her knees up to her chin like she had done when she was little. That did nothing to soothe Hunter, who was becoming more worried by the minute. He stood from his seat and slowly eased himself into a crouch in front of his daughter.
“I just want to help you, ad’ika,” he placed a gentle hand on her knee. “You’ve seemed off all day, what’s up?”
Omega’s eyes filled with tears and she blinked rapidly to try and be rid of them.
“I…” she sniffled. “I don’t know what to do.”
All of a sudden it was like she was ten all over again. She surged forward and wrapped her arms around her buir’s neck. He returned the hug, never one to shy away from comforting his kid.
“Whatever it is, ad’ika, we can fix it,” he’d meant for his words to be soothing but if anything Omega just cried more. “Whatever you need, we’ve got you,” he continued. “I’ve got you, Omega.”
For a while she said nothing and he just held her, running a gentle hand through her hair. His leg began to ache as it usually did when when he was in one position for too long, but he ignored it. Omega needed him to be there for her, and be there for her he would.
“I-I met someone,” she eventually stammered out, pulling away and wiping her eyes on the back of her sleeve. Hunter gently removed her hands and handed her a handkerchief; the woman snorted a little with laughter at the gesture. Her buir was becoming such an old man.
“Sh-she’s amazing, buir,” she continued. There was a tone to her voice that made Hunter smile. “Her name’s Tessa and she’s part of the rebellion too. She joined as a medic…” she trailed off, her cheeks a little flushed. “She helped me out with this.” She gestured to the arm in the sling.
Hunter’s smile grew as he listened to Omega speak about this woman.
“I-I think I love her, Hunter,” the woman let out a nervous laugh before her smile broke and was replaced with more tears being held back. “But I kept a secret from her and now she wants us to ‘take a break’ whilst she thinks things over.”
The ex-sergeant frowned at this. What secret could Omega have kept that meant that Tessa wanted to think things over?
“What secret, ‘Megs?” he asked, wiping a stray tear from the woman’s cheek. She took a couple of shaky breaths before burying her face in Hunter’s neck once more. He was taken aback a little but held her nonetheless. If it was comfort that Omega needed, it was comfort he would give.
“It was stupid,” she started. “It was a stupid, stupid one night thing, before me and Tessa even knew each other…” A sob ripped through her again, and she tried to steady her breathing.
She muttered something, just loud enough for Hunter to hear. His eyes widened and he took a shaky breath in.
“I see,” he replied, pulling away from the embrace a little. Omega wouldn’t look him in the eye, her cheeks tear stained and her eyes puffy. Sighing, Hunter pulled his kid back into a hug and pressed a gentle kiss to her hair.
“You’re not mad?” she asked, her voice trembling with nerves. Hunter let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “I could never be mad at you, ad’ika,” he soothed. “Besides, it’s not like you’re a kid anymore. You’re an adult… and the war is over. This is probably the best time to be raising a kid.”
Omega nodded against his chest and slowly pulled away. Hunter smiled at her; he had so many questions running through his mind right now, but he knew that wasn’t what his little girl needed… his little girl who wasn’t so little anymore.
“You,” he said quietly, pressing his forehead against hers. “Are going to be an incredible mother.” Omega let out a watery laugh of disbelief, having not come to terms with the situation herself.
“A mother…” she croaked out, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m not ready.”
Hunter pulled back from the embrace, slowly pushing himself into a standing position. He held out his hand to help Omega up, which she accepted. The sat next to each other on the bench she had been perched on before they wound up on the floor.
“You think I was ready to be a father?” he asked, a teasing tone in his voice. “You never complained once, even when I made every mistake under the kriffing sun.”
A small chuckle escaped his daughter. “I knew you just wanted what was best for me,” she replied, leaning into Hunter’s side. “You always tried to do what was best, even when it was nearly impossible.”
The ex-sergeant nodded and a thought occurred to him.
“Cut always said that battling droids was nothing compared to raising a child…” he trailed off, deep in thought. “He was right, raising you was hard… we were always on the run, looking over our shoulders… trying to rescue you from Imperial scientists.” He wrapped an arm around her and shuffled a little closer.
“We relied on each other and our allies to help us. They helped us stay safe.. and raise you.” Hunter looked down at his kid. “You have us, Omega. We’re here to help you through this… even if we never did the baby stage with you.”
She nodded, not responding verbally for a while and the pair sat in a content silence. Before long Crosshair and Wrecker emerged from the kitchen laughing about something but coming to a halt when they spotted Omega’s tear-stained face and Hunter’s arm wrapped around her. The latter glanced down, a questioning eyebrow raised. “You telling them now?” he asked, an encouraging smile on his face.
After a moments pause, Omega nodded, sighing. “It’s as good a time as any,” she replied. Crosshair and Wrecker glanced at each other, confused, before sitting down opposite the father and daughter to listen to what she had to say.
——
Safe to say, Omega hadn’t needed to worry about telling any of her family that she was pregnant. Wrecker was thrilled at the prospect of becoming a ba’vodu and had wrapped his sister in a massive hug. Crosshair had been more reserved in his response, mainly wanting to know how Omega was feeling; he had also asked if Tessa needed… talking to. His sister had shot him down quickly, making it clear that she was serious about the medic if she wanted to take her back.
“It’s a lot to consider,” she’d reasoned in a sad voice. “It’s not just me she’d be taking on…”
Satisfied for now, the ex-sniper backed off, giving his little sister a hug before sitting back in his seat and pulling a toothpick out of his pockets.
The family had turned in not long after that. Hunter had insisted that Omega take his bed despite her protests.
“Being cramped on the couch won’t help your arm,” he reasoned. “Besides, it’s not just you anymore.” His daughter had snorted and rolled her eyes at that, but relented. She had another six months of Hunter being somehow more protective… she’d better get used to it now. He’d helped her set up his bed and went to bid her goodnight; as he turned around she quietly called him back.
“Thank you, buir,” she whispered as the exhaustion began to settle in. He smiled softly.
“Always, ad’ika,” he replied. He moved back into the room, gently pressing a kiss against her forehead where she lay in bed before moving away. As he left, he heard her mumble something sleepily that made his heart flutter.
“You’re gonna make a great ba’buir.”
There went his heart, flipping once more. He smiled warmly as Omega slipped into a deep sleep. He remembered years ago, when Hera had been pregnant with Jacen and the Batch had thought it was Omega who was pregnant… he’d freaked out.
Now, he couldn’t bring himself to be as freaked out. Babies were new territory for all of them, but Hunter knew more than anything that he and his brothers would support Omega, no matter what. If she needed them, they’d be there.
————
(Three years Later)
The gentle sea breeze of Pabu wafted through the windows of the house, making Hunter smile and close his eyes. He sighed as he leaned back on the couch, but his attempts to relax were cut short when he picked up the sound of tiny footsteps running across the patio.
“Ba’buir!” The tiny voice of Mina echoed through the living room of the house, making Hunter laugh as he sat up. A small mop of blonde hair appeared in his vision as she toddled over to him.
“Ah, my favourite bu’ad,” he commented, pressing a kiss to her hair and making the little girl giggle. Of course she was his only grandchild, but if she smiled like that every time he said it, he’d happily keep saying it.
“Where’s mama?” he asked, picking up the toddler. A shy look crossed the child’s face and Hunter was taken aback at how much she looked like Omega.
A small shrug made Hunter laugh. Mina buried her face in Hunter’s chest, giggling a little.
“Are you hiding from mama?” he asked, only for Mina to nod and giggle more. In the distance, he could hear footsteps approaching, Omega’s footsteps.
“Mina?” came a voice, a touch of concern laced through it. Pabu was a safe place, safe as could be, but Mina was a… curious little girl. It wasn’t beyond her to get into little scrapes when an adult’s back was turned for more than thirty seconds.
“Quick!” Hunter whispered, smiling at his granddaughter’s grin. “Hide from mama!”
Mina wriggled until she was wedged between Hunter and the back of the couch. She let out a quiet giggle before Omega walked into the room, looking a little flustered. Hunter plastered a fake look of concern on his face.
“You okay, ad’ika?” he asked, trying not to smile. Omega sighed, still looking worried.
“Mina ran off at the market,” she worried her bottom lip. “Tessa’ll pull her hair out if I comm her to say she’s missing again so I kinda want to find her quickly…”
Hunter nodded, understanding. Tessa had appeared back in Omega’s life when Mina was about three months old. At first, the Batch had regarded her with scepticism; this woman had hurt Omega! After a while, though (a long while in Crosshair’s case) they had warmed to the medic. One particularly scary night when Mina had been ill, it had been Tessa who’d kept them all calm and in the loop. Watching how gentle the woman was with his daughter and granddaughter that night had won Hunter and his brothers over. She had been a permanent fixture in their family ever since…
… if only Omega would get over herself and propose to her.
“Well I’ll help you look for her,” Hunter stated, sincerity in his voice. He slowly went to stand from the couch, smiling as Mina latched herself onto his back. All Omega had to do was look at him and she’d see the little girl peeping over his shoulder, arms wrapped around his neck.
Instead, Omega bounced up the stairs of the house, going to look in her old room; it was unofficially Mina’s now for when she came to visit her ba’buir and bavodu’e. She enjoyed sleepovers there, making cakes with Wrecker and giggling hysterically when Crosshair and Hunter told her stories about Omega.
“She definitely didn’t come this way?” Omega called down the stairs. Hunter shifted his grip on Mina, and the little girl giggled.
“No, can’t say I’ve seen her…” he trailed off. “She reminds me of you, ad’ika, always running off and getting into scrapes when you were little.”
Omega appeared back in the room, looking flustered; her eyes fixed on the small pair of arms latched around Hunter’s neck and she sighed.
“You’re not funny, buir,” she chastised as she approached Hunter and her daughter.
Mina stuck her head out from where she was on Hunter’s back and giggled.
“Mama!” she cried happily. “I hiding with ba’buir.” Omega let out a small laugh as that, ruffling her daughter’s hair.
“Oh yeah?” she asked, an eyebrow raised. “Well it seems as though your ba’buir is a bad influence.”
Hunter let out a mock gasp, pretending to be offended, but his smile gave him away. Mina wriggled in his grip and he placed her down on the floor, only for her to toddle away, dragging her own little Lula with her.
“She’s growing up fast,” Hunter commented, and a look of aching realisation hit Omega. She nodded, a small smile on her face.
“I just want her to stay this little forever, you know?” she stated, watching with a smile as Mina came back over and held her arms up for her mother. Omega swooped down and picked her up, placing her on her hip as Mina rested her head in the crook of her mama’s neck.
“We thought that about you,” Hunter stated, his own small, sad smile on his face. “But we would never have met Mina if you’d stayed the little girl we met on Kamino…” he smirked, a teasing look on his face. “Though we wouldn’t mind not having to go through your teenage years again.”
Omega rolled her eyes at her buir. She knew he was right of course, her teenage years had not been… the easiest. Lots of pent up trauma had floated to the surface and had lead her to do things she’d rather not remember (including running away at one point, convinced that the Empire were after her again). She glanced down at her daughter and vowed there and then that she would never place Mina in that position. Not ever.
“Can we have cake?” came the small voice that startled both adults out of their trains of thought. Hunter laughed lightly, ruffling Mina’s hair.
“I reckon we might have some somewhere…” he trailed off, pretending to think in a way that made his bu’ad laugh.
“Ba’buir’s being silly, mama!” she giggled, and Omega smiled a warm smile. “He does have cake!”
Hunter dropped the pretence, taking his granddaughter from her mother and walking towards the kitchen. The pair chattered contentedly as he went about getting the cake out for his family. Omega leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen, a fond smile on her face. It was memories like these that made her wish she’d taken up Tech’s habit of recording everything. She made herself a promise that she’d dig out her recorder later. These were the things that she wanted to remember forever.
————
(Twenty Five Years Later)
Mina crept towards the cave where she knew the ship was waiting to pick her up; she breathed in the see breeze of Pabu one last time and smiled. She was going to miss this place…
Once she reached the beach, just metres away from where she was meeting Poe, she froze as she spotted a familiar figure perched on a rock. The figure’s blonde-turning-grey hair fluttered in the wind as she watched the waves lapping against the sand.
“Mom…” Mina breathed as she wondered towards the figure. She should’ve known that she wouldn’t get away with creeping away.
“You can’t beat me at my own game,” Omega’s voice was a little rough with age and she looked up at her daughter. “I tried doing this when I was your age. Your ba’buir caught me trying to sneak off in the middle of the night… from this cave.”
Mina deadpanned when she realised that she really had just been trying to copy her mother’s actions. Omega stood from the rock she was sat on and approached the younger woman, a sad smile on her face.
“Let me guess,” she started, a resigned look on her face. “That Poe Dameron’s waiting for you in there?”
A nod confirmed Omega’s thoughts. Mina’s cheeks flushed a little; she’d been talking back and forth with Poe for the past few months and the pair had grown close… rebellion talk aside.
“There are whispers of the Empire returning,” Mina explained. “Whispers of the Emperor coming back…” Omega’s head shot up at that, a look of petrified recognition in her eyes. She had tried to protect her daughter from her past, knowing that it was likely their blood possessed similar qualities, and if people were trying to bring the Emperor back… maybe they’d been successful.
“You fought so hard for a universe where I could grow up and be safe… it’s only fair that I pick up that torch.”
All of a sudden, Omega knew exactly how Hunter had felt when she’d left him all those years ago. Her heart ached at the thought of her buir and brothers, long gone now, and how fiercely they’d fought for her safety. Her daughter was cut from the same cloth and as stubborn as anything… there would be no persuading to get her to turn around and go home now.
“You grew up, ad’ika…” she trailed off, bringing a hand to cup her little girl’s cheek. Before she could get too emotional, she wrapped Mina in a hug, holding her close and taking in everything she could.
When they pulled away from the hug, Mina had tears in her eyes but tried to blink them away. She went to walk into the cave and meet Poe, but was cut short by her name being called.
Omega was frantically trying to untie a piece of cord from her neck; Mina’s eyes widened as she took off the necklace that had belonged to Hunter, her ba’buir. Omega had cried for days when he’d died, clinging onto the necklace like it was a lifeline. He was buried with Crosshair, Echo and Wrecker now, finally at rest after living out the rest of his life on the peaceful island.
“Mom…” she trailed off as Omega held out the necklace to her daughter. “That belonged to ba’buir, I couldn’t…”
“Take it,” her mother smiled, but it was watery. “I wanted to pass it on to you when you were ready… I just never realised it would creep up on me.”
Mina sniffed and wrapped her mom in one final hug.
“I’m gonna miss you, but I’ll be back,” she reassured as she squeezed Omega tightly. “I promise you, I will.”
Omega pulled away and nodded towards the cave. “Off you go…” she trailed off. “If you need me, I’ll be there.”
Mina smiled back at her mother, giving her a small salute as she waled towards the cave. Omega looked a little taken aback for a moment, but returned the salute with a grin on her face.
Yeah, she’d be there if her daughter needed her, but she knew that Mina had her family watching over her as well. That thought was comforting.
She’ll be fine.
#the bad batch#sw tbb#tbb omega#tbb hunter#tbb wrecker#tbb tech#tbb echo#tbb crosshair#sw tbb spoilers#sw tbb fanfic#tbb fanfiction#tbb fic#sw tbb s3#tbb season 3 spoilers#hurt/comfort#emotional#space dad hunter#hunter is omega’s dad#good parent hunter#good brother crosshair#good brother wrecker#hera syndulla#jacen syndulla#fluff#family#family fluff#unplanned pregnancy#pregancy#time skip
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WIP Wednesday
This one is a little late. I wasn't sure what to post yesterday. I’m running out of polished work to share.
Progress is coming along nice. Simon and Baz have met, and I’m currently drafting chapter 4.
Tasha is proving to be a very funny and heartwarming character to write.
For my WIP Wednesday post, I am going to post a longer section along with less plot. I don’t want to give away all my secrets.
For those who didn’t see last sunday’s post, this is an Enchanted Au for Snowbaz.
 Simon Snow is a hero of the land of magic. Known for slaying dragons, Simon is finally ready to find true love. He thinks he’s found that in Princess Agatha. A beautiful maiden who seemingly fits all the criteria of Penny’s spell designed to find his true love. But when she disappears down a well into another realm hours before their wedding, Simon goes after her, intent on rescuing her and securing his happily ever after.
Baz is a lawyer new to New York, having moved recently from London to escape his family and the loveless marriage forced upon him. He just wants to complete his divorce and win the custody battle to keep his daughter, Tasha. He lost hope for finding love years ago. But his world gets rocked when he meets a very handsome, and very insane man with dragon wings threatening him with a sword.
The story currently in it’s drafting stage.
“The world underneath me is white mountain peaks and the green of pines. Perfect as they always are in the land of magic. I tuck in my wings and dip suddenly into a nosedive.
My heart pounds with the rushing in my ears, and my face splits into a manic grin. Cold air turns rapidly to warm as I dip into the valley.
At the last second, I spread my wings and they catch, as if on an invisible force, and I’m soaring again right above a field filled with dusty purple and white flowers that dot the hillside. They bow as I pass, pushed by the gust of my wings and the wind that carries them. I reach down to run a hand through the tall grasses, and snatch up a couple flowers, tucking them into the pouch Penny provided.
There’s a white rabbit snuffling in the grass as I fly by. He sits up to watch me, so I wave at him cheerfully.
He smiles and waves back at me.”
Thank you for reading. Like and follow for more updates.
Special thanks to @facewithoutheart and @martsonmars for the tag!
@martsonmars @bucketfishy @captain-aralias @carryonvisinata @aristocratic-otter @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @raenestee @bookish-bogwitch @facewithoutheart @johnwgrey @cutestkilla @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @confused-bi-queer @larkral
Bonus content under the cut!
#simon snow series#baz x simon#simon snow#snowbaz fanfiction#snowbaz#writing#fanfiction#fanfic#WIP Wednesday#enchanted au#enchanted#Fantasy Au#giving away my secrets a little bit at a time#Simon and Baz are idiots (affectionate)#Simon is a sweet sweet moron#fuck the mage
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shoutout to the lady at work who came through the checkout line, asked for ten percent off, and showed me a business card that said "good for diskont"
#color says shit#before you ask. of course I gave her the discount.#it saved a dollar and sixty cents. you wouldn't begrudge an elderly sunburnt woman a dollar and sixty cents would you?#I think everyone should be allowed to get away with a scam once. second time? then I'm asking questions. but first time is free#she was like “I want you to keep your job. it'll be our little secret” I hate to break it to you but we have nothing between us.#my favorite customers are the ones where I can be like “hmm. I don't think my vision is very good today”#and they immediately brighten up and start to chat with me more once they've decided I'm ally not enemy#joining the class war on the side of the people.#idk. not a ton I can do with my level of emotional energy and personal preoccupation with fixing my own life. but every little bit helps#people track store metrics and yada yada this quarter is bad last year was better I don't give a FUCK bruh#if I sell a single credit card I'll take it as a personal moral failing.
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Homemade
Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: While your dad’s watching a movie downstairs, you and his best friend decide to make one of your own.
Warnings: 18+. Sneaky sex tape fun with dbf!Joel ;-) Unprotected p-in-v. Age gap. Daddy kink. Facefucking. Joel being the world’s worst cameraman. Shower sex. Overstimulation via adjustable shower head. Dirty talk. Screaming ‘daddy’ too loud, and your father shows up.
Translations: In Chile, pico is slang for penis. Joel’s is big.
Part of the Waiting Game series
“If this ever ends up on PornHub, I’ll kill you, Miller.”
Joel knew you meant it, too.
The only reason you’d agreed to make this dumb little ‘home video’ at all was because you were headed back to college tomorrow and wouldn’t see him again until May. Doing long distance was tough, but doing long distance while simultaneously trying to keep a risqué, torrid, and totally-not-age-appropriate love affair with your father’s best friend under wraps was infinitely more difficult. This was the safest way to keep desire alive in the meantime.
Immortalized on a Sony CCD-TR70—because neither one of you trusted iCloud to keep a sex tape secret.
It had also been the only video camera you could find in the closet before your dad had plopped down on the couch just outside your room and announced he would be watching Oppenheimer for the third time. You’d had to scurry off fast before he could invite you to join him.
“I’ll be damned—this thing’s gotta be as old as I am,” Joel mused as he stood at the foot of the bed, camcorder pointed at your semi-nude form.
“I didn’t know they had cameras back in the Stone Age.”
Your smirk didn't flinch, even when Joel flipped you off.
You were lying on your side, head propped up on one hand while the other picked at a few loose strings from the comforter. The lacy, pastel pink bustier holding your tits in place was currently making breathing feel like a chore, and your skin was on fire from the warmth of the room, but you tried not to show it. Joel twisted a dial.
“Alright, now...flash ‘em for daddy,” he grinned as soon as the lens focused in where he wanted: your cleavage.
You rolled your eyes.
“A little closer, please,” you said, patting the space in front of you.
Joel didn’t need to be told twice. With one hand still cradling the camera, he clambered over the bed so fast he nearly tripped and took a nosedive in the headboard. You had to cover your mouth to contain a shriek of laughter—and terror—as his frame barreled into yours.
“JOEL!”
Fortunately, your cameraman was quick to recollect himself, planting a knee on either side of your chest once he’d knocked you onto your back. Then, from above, he angled the grey-black hunk of metal just a foot away:
“Anything you’d like to say to the folks watching at home, ma’am?” Joel inquired, suddenly assuming all the poise and matter-of-fact elocution of a news reporter.
You stuck your tongue out at the camera and blew the wettest, fattest raspberry you could muster in response.
Joel hummed, zoomed in on your lips, and nodded.
“Fascinating,” he said, pretending to make sense of the fart noise you’d just made with your mouth, “Have you ever given thought to maybe...sucking cock on camera?”
The swiftness with which he was able to dodge your kick was remarkable. He swayed the camera just out of reach before you could shove it away and say, ‘Joel, quit being GROSS’ and he promptly replied, ‘Ain’t that the whole point of a sex tape, sweet pea? Bein’ a little bit gross?’ And you playfully tried to kick him again, only this time, he caught your foot and yanked you closer to him. He turned the camcorder back to your face and grinned.
“That’s my little pornstar,” he murmured with affection. Then, zooming in again, this time to find your panty line, “Riiiiight there.”
You knew giving Joel Miller recording privileges for an occasion as momentous as this was a bad idea. At the rate you were going now, you’d be seeing the sunrise through the window before you ever got a glimpse of his dick. You needed to take matters into your own hands.
Literally.
You crawled on all fours to get to Joel across the bed.
The man, kneeling with the camera pointed in your direction, looked up to cock a brow at you.
“Sweetheart, hey, can ya do that one more—”
“Hush,” you muttered, closing in on his crotch.
Your head was lowered so you could undo the front of his jeans. Because of this, your back was arched, and your ass was pointed up just the slightest bit. For a second, Joel seemed torn between tilting the lens to your lower half or your face, which was inching ever closer to the bulge in his trousers. In time, he landed on the latter.
He swallowed. That sight never got old—and seeing it displayed on the camcorder’s semi-grainy screen only made it that much hotter. Joel shifted on his knees while you worked him out of his boxers, watching the nimble movements of your fingers as you wrestled the fabric.
“Wanna—” Glancing to the side of the bed, “—maybe—”
“Yup.”
Both of you liked it better on the floor: you on your knees in front of Joel, chin tilted up to see his reactions as you sucked him off. You loved to sink between his legs and then see and feel nothing but him, brain going blank the moment his cock filled your mouth. Joel slid a pillow under your knees before widening his stance some.
“Is it on?” Your hand was wrapped firmly around the base of his cock and your lips were hovering an inch from the tip. You resisted the urge to lick the precum off just yet.
“Darlin’, it’s been on ever since you stepped outta the bathroom in that— that—” Joel seemed to be searching for a word when the head of his cock was enveloped in a kiss. You dragged your tongue across the slit of him and collected the hot, salty beads with a muffled moan.
Then you pulled off.
“Teddy,” you said, reminding him of the name for that pretty little tulle and lace getup you currently had on.
“Teddy,” Joel echoed, his mind a million miles away from any lingerie jargon at the moment. He held the camera tighter as you took him back into your mouth and sank deeper on his cock. He struggled to keep it steady.
It was strange, watching Joel and the rounded glass of the lens as you did this dirty thing that was only meant to be shared between you and him. Knowing it would be recorded, saved for future viewing, displayed on some dimly lit screen in Joel’s bedroom maybe one, twice, or more likely than not, several dozen times over the next three months. You wondered how you might look from this new point of view; though, you weren’t so sure you needed to know what sight Joel was made privy to while you sucked and hollowed your cheeks around his cock.
As it turned out, that uncertainty wasn’t meant to last you very long, because Joel flipped the camera’s screen around two seconds later. Some sepia-tinted, pixelated rendition of your face, framed by the date and time and a bright red flashing dot beside the word ‘REC’ were the first to greet you. You flinched back just a little.
“Joel,” you said, almost bashful, “Flip it back.”
Joel just grinned. Then he laced his fingers through your hair and tugged you closer to him, thumb stroking over your scalp, “C’mon, darlin’, don’t ya wanna see how goddamn pretty ya look on your knees for me?”
You didn’t think you looked pretty at all. In fact, you reckoned your features looked something more like an alien utility funnel than a real, human face as you tilted your chin inward and seemed to be nothing but eyes and a hollowed-out expression, but you let Joel guide you back onto him all the same. You heard a low rumble of pleasure take shape in his chest as your lips slid over his shaft. Your gaze remained glued to the screen as you did.
Wet with saliva and a few faint traces of precum, you continued to bob your head up and down. Joel’s groans grew louder, and your drive to take him further and further surged as well. By the time his hand was tightening into a white-knuckled fist in your hair, you’d nearly taken him all the way to the back of your throat, and your nose was no more than an inch from the soft tufts of hair on his belly. Joel let out a shuttering breath.
“Fuck me,” he heaved. You might’ve smiled if your lips weren’t otherwise occupied. Then he clenched his hand even harder and murmured, “Can you— can I, please—”
Again, you didn’t need him to finish the rest of the question to know what he wanted. You moved your head back just slightly to nod, a low, ‘Mhmm’ reverberating down the length of his dick as you gave him permission. Joel swallowed and set the camera aside immediately.
He placed it on the nightstand, perfectly level with your head, to the side. Then he rotated the device just a bit, took one glance at the screen, and shortly returned to where you were watching him with wide, glossy eyes.
“Ready?” he asked. His right hand now joined the left at the back of your head, but not before thumbing a quick touch over your cheek to get a feel for your approval.
You hummed once more. You watched Joel’s hips move forward, hands secure around your scalp all the while, and you felt a gentle nudge at the back of your throat. Then another. You couldn’t help the impulse to gag, but thankfully, it was short-lived. Joel peered down at you, eyes searching yours for any plea to stop or slow down, but he found nothing. He sheathed himself deeper until your lips were brushing the base of his dick. He groaned.
“That’s a good…fuckin’ girl,” he managed, voice strained, “Takin’ my cock so deep.”
He shifted his hips to move an inch or two out, then slid his cock forward again, bumping that spot at the top of your throat. This time, you were better adjusted to take him and felt your muscles expand and contract around him without activating your gag reflex. Your eyes stayed trained on his face while he dragged his cock back again.
“My pretty girl and her—” Joel stabbed back into you, somehow tender in the way he did it, “—pretty fuckin’ mouth…Sweet thing likes gettin’ facefucked, does she?”
With the increased pace of his thrusts and the grip he had on the sides of your head, you couldn’t quite answer, but Joel could tell from the glint in your eye that you loved when he manhandled and fucked your throat like this. Watched the light sear gently behind those irises as you swallowed every inch of his cock, back and forth, and let your brain break down to little more than a happy, mindless mush. Joel was always keen to oblige you on that front—aroused to no end at the sight of all your thoughts being fucked straight out of your head—and within the next few thrusts, his gut was giving a familiar clench. He pulled halfway out of your mouth, paused, felt the pinch again, then withdrew from your lips fully.
“Get on the bed.”
You straightened back up and made it over to the mattress, quickly. Before you could assume the position you’d been hoping to take on all fours, you felt yourself flipped on your back. Joel yanked your hips to the edge of the bed and kneeled down between your legs. Hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and had them shuffled down your thighs and past your ankles in no time at all. Then, when he lowered his lips to your wet, aching core, you pressed a touch to the crown of his head.
“Joel, wait,” you said. All of a sudden your chest felt tight.
In spite of the fact that your airways were open and completely free from any obstruction—namely, Joel’s big ol’ pico—you still found it difficult to inhale. Some murky, amorphous sense of anxiety weighed over your chest.
When your hand didn’t move from his head and instead pushed him further, Joel furrowed his brows, perplexed.
“What’s’a matter, darlin’?”
You shook your head, more to yourself than to him.
“I haven’t…just— haven’t washed down there today…o-or shaved,” you stammered, “Don’t want you to taste it.”
That was largely a lie. You’d bathed, shaved, and prepared for this just fine, but really were more concerned about the novel optics that loomed overhead. Being filmed in such a singularly vulnerable state without knowing how to act. You were fine when the attention was focused on Joel and his pleasure, but something about having your every whimper and moan laid bare before you on film felt daunting. Unnerving, in a way.
Joel frowned while rubbing your thigh. His brow pinched inward again, as if he were considering something.
Then he moved across your body, and your muscles eased with relief at the thought that he’d just let it go and get to fucking you exactly how you wanted. You reached for him, ready to wrap your legs around his waist, when a yelp clawed out of your throat. You found that you didn’t get to touch his chest, or his cheeks, or his big, broad, beefy shoulders, as you were promptly thrown over the latter of the three body parts and lifted when Joel stood up from the bed. He started carrying you across the room, heedless of the startled, ‘What the FUCK, Miller?’ you’d cried the second he took one step.
Hardwood floors transformed to tile before your eyes, and shortly, you realized you were being brought into your bathroom.
You heard the squeak of some metal knob being turned, then a brief sputter, then a spray of water raining down on your shower floor. You were still being held hostage over Joel’s shoulder, try as you might to bite at his lower back or smack his ass in an attempt to break loose.
He set you down a second later, seemingly unfazed.
“Get in.” He nodded toward the shower.
Before you had a chance to respond, he left. You stood back in disbelief—refusing to go into the shower and let Joel have his win—but just as you opened your mouth to call out and tell him as much, his form slipped back in through the door. Naked, now, and wielding that stupid, goddamned camcorder with a devious glint in his eye.
“Will you—” You held out a defensive hand in front of you, cheeks already heating, “—stop with that?!”
Secretly, the corners of your lips were fighting a smile as Joel drew closer with the camera held up to your face.
“There she is, folks,” he announced, as though speaking to a crowd, or else reading off of a script from the world’s most cheesy porno, “My dirty, dirty girl says she needs a shower—don’t ya, sweet pea?”
It sounded so ridiculous and dumb that neither one of you could keep from laughing. Even as you lifted your middle finger in response, Joel grinned and smacked your ass. Steadied the camera out in front, nudged you closer to the shower, and watched you somewhat begrudgingly obey his orders. Once you’d stripped what little remained on your body, you stepped into the tub.
Add to ‘ridiculous and dumb’ just wildly unsexy as well—who the hell needed a soapy interlude to a sex tape?
Joel Miller, apparently. He constricted his grip on the camera and followed you in, tongue already skimming the backs of his teeth in anticipation. You turned away to step under the shower’s stream, and he wasted no time getting a shot of your derrière. You leaned forward and sighed.
The water worked wonders to get your muscles to loosen some, but still, you were nervous. You could clean up now, stall a little longer, maybe even offer to give Joel head again—but what if he really wanted to eat you out on camera? You couldn’t put off the conversation forever.
Or another minute, it seemed.
You let out a shriek when you felt Joel’s fingers sneak up between your thighs. You hardly knew what he was doing, just folding limply when he spun you around to press your back against the shower wall. Your eyes widened to see him descending your body once more.
“I lied,” Joel said, smirk painted clear across his features, “You’re not dirty—I just wanted to eat your pussy in the shower ‘s’all.”
Chivalry was evidently alive and well in Austin, Texas.
No truer words could have been spoken, and yet, you felt wildly uncomfortable the second Joel’s head dipped between your legs and that big, dumb, handsome face started licking stripes up your sensitive core. You cast a glance to the side and saw the camcorder perched on the sink—just through the open slit in the shower curtain, you could see it pointed directly at you.
You shivered and started to push Joel away.
“Can we maybe just—”
“Sweetie?!”
Joel’s lips tore out of your cunt quicker than a sneeze through a screen door. His eyes were wide.
“Y-Yeah, dad?” you squeaked, tone almost fearful.
“Everything okay in here? I heard ya scream,” your dad returned shortly.
You could only imagine the expression of confusion and distress painting his every lineament in that moment. Probably just barely sticking his head through the crack in the door and blinking anxiously through the steam.
Your dad was caring like that.
He just never knew the right times to show up.
No, there were very few times where you would’ve liked to see him less—apart from that one time you’d sucked Joel’s dick under the table at your dad’s birthday dinner. Your heart was thudding a wild, erratic beat in your chest, and you could only imagine how Joel was feeling. Probably seeing visions of a Size 11 boot being shoved up his ass if his friend happened to slide the shower curtain to the side and see him nose-deep in his daughter’s box.
That would be bad. So very, very bad and probably ten times worse than when Tommy had caught you blowing his brother at the aforementioned birthday party. You just couldn’t seem to catch a break these days.
You sucked in a breath and answered anyway.
“I thought I saw a spider.”
“Really?” You could already sense the embittered tinge to your dad’s voice, harking back to the war he’d once declared on all wolf spiders in the home, “Want me to kill it?”
The next thing you heard was two boots thud on the bathroom floor outside the shower, and you could’ve sworn you saw Joel’s whole soul leap from his body. He shot a frantic look around him, spotted a window above, and seemed to wonder for half a second if he might be able to shimmy his 188-pound frame through a space that probably wasn’t big enough to fit a fat raccoon. He slumped his weight against the shower wall and winced.
“No! I— It wasn’t even a spider. Just a…roach.”
Shortly, Joel’s eyes widened even more and met yours, as if to ask, ‘Why the FUCK would you say that?’
“A roach?!” your dad cried simultaneously.
Apparently, you’d forgotten that any derivative of the word ‘cockroach’ was like a sleeper agent activation phrase for middle-aged fathers who wanted to keep their homes free of all household pests. The look on Joel’s haggard, world-weary face communicated as much to you, and for a second, you remembered that he, too, was built the same way as any other semi-old dude you knew.
Just bigger and beefier and…harder below the belt than you would’ve expected most men around his age to be.
You quickly chided yourself for ogling Joel’s dick at a time like this and replied to your father, shrill, “No!”
Then, slightly more composed, “No, no— I already took it out with some hairspray and told it to fuck off to hell.”
An attempt at humor was the last leg you had to stand on. Fortunately, it worked.
Outside the shower, your dad chuckled, and his footsteps started to shuffle off toward the door.
“Ah. Atta girl,” he beamed, ever the advocate for brutal cockroach killings, “If you see another, just holler, okay?”
“Okay.”
You heard the sound of the bathroom door closing, and you almost fell to the floor. Joel probably would’ve been facedown just as well—fear seeping out of his body along with every last ounce of willpower to stand—had he not made a dive for you as soon as your dad had left.
The force of his push sent you straight into the wall, legs forced to wrap around his waist as he buried his face in your neck.
“Thank fuck,” he breathed.
“You’re welcome,” you murmured, swiping the water out of your eyes with a grimace.
Then, just as you were about to request that Joel lower you back down to the floor and out of the shower’s spray, you felt a nudge between your legs. Luckily not a tongue this time—just Joel, or the tip of his leaking cock. The man below you grinned, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a wash of relief. Could it be?
“I’ll still eat you out if y’want,” he started, though speaking with a little less conviction this time around, “But after all that I, uh—kinda jus’ wanna fuck ya stupid.”
Well thank fuck for fake spiders and cockroaches, too; you’d just averted a dreaded tonguefuck, thanks to that detour.
You’d worry about your pornstar moans and on-camera charisma another time—now you could just sit back and let Joel do all the work while he took you against the wall.
Really, there was no need to concern yourself with anything at all from that point forward. Once you’d given Joel the green light, he was sinking you onto his cock with a grunt and making sure you felt nothing but him. His hands found your hips and held you firmly in place as he rutted into you from below, your own fingers latching onto his shoulders for some much-needed support. Both of you knew that you needed to be extra quiet now—seeing how sound seemed to carry in that tight, tiled space—so Joel snagged your lips in his for a kiss.
He was practically panting in your mouth by the time you started meeting his thrusts. His fingertips slid some and must’ve seared ten perfect crescents into the flesh of your ass as he fucked you into the wall.
“Look so pretty like this,” he whispered in between kisses and short, shallow breaths. His cock parted your insides with an excruciating welt of pleasure, and he hardly even seemed to realize it, “Look so damn pretty takin’ cock.”
Then, lips kicking up in a smile when it seemed he’d remembered something, he added, “Can’t wait to play this tape back home and watch us fuck all over again.”
Again. Again. And again. Shit, you could just see it now.
Your eyes traversed the compact shower space once more to find the video camera—still perched, still live, still perfectly implacable and silent atop the sink as it recorded your every grunt, groan, and shuddering moan. You were nearly as curious to know what Joel’s bare ass looked like rutting into you like this as you were to hear yourself getting railed against the shower wall. Maybe you’d beat this fear of secondhand embarrassment after all.
Maybe.
Joel’s teeth snagged your bottom lip and bit it, lightly.
“Every chance I get, you can bet I’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout this…sweet pussy while you’re away,” he said, voice low and occasionally punctured by a groan, “Say one more thing f’me and I’ll…cum every time I watch this part.”
The kinks at the corners of his lips were endearing. You would’ve liked to supply them with just about anything they could’ve wanted, so when they leaned into your ear and murmured just what it was they needed to hear, you only hesitated a second.
Or maybe two or three, because, well…it was risky.
Moaning ‘daddy’ out loud at a time like this? It might get Joel off quick, but it might send your real dad running even faster. You weren’t crazy about the thought of anything that might draw the man’s attention again.
Joel seemed a little less risk-averse than you, notwithstanding the window-leaping fear he’d felt when your dad had rushed in before. Leave it to a criminally horny man to have the memory of a goldfish, though.
At present, Joel was blinking and gawking a bit like one, too, waiting for you to enunciate that one magic word.
You couldn’t deny he made a damn cute desperate sex fiend when he wanted to be. And you needed to cum.
You figured you could cut a deal with him just this once.
“Alright,” you mumbled against the top of his stubbled lip, “Make me cum and I’ll say anything you want, Miller.”
You weren’t sure if it was a chuckle or a strangled moan that jumped up in his throat when Joel squeezed your sides tighter. All you knew was that he was lowering you to the floor in the next instant, spinning you around, and walking you forward, swiftly and with purpose, toward the opposite end of the shower. Right where the crack in the curtain made you most visible to the camcorder.
Joel’s hand snaked around your front and gently eased between your legs. Then, pressing his chest to your back and nudging you to bend just slightly at the waist, he tipped your bodies closer to the camera’s line of vision and stilled. From the LED screen, you could see the ghost of a smile crossing his lips as he shifted his head beside your own. Next, they were kissing across your shoulder, your neck, that sensitive spot behind your ear, and finally the shell of it, brown eyes trained on the camera lens as he murmured to you, “Stay real still.”
You didn’t know if you could. But you tried. And you damn near cried when his fingers started working circles over your clit. Your body was raised on tip-toes, and your hand was bracing the wall as Joel fucked you from behind and made a mess of your wet, writhing body. In no more than three or four strokes, your fears of looking or sounding stupid on camera trickled away with all the rest of the silent, sizzling liquids circling the drain below. Your cheek pressed against Joel’s rougher one, and with the push of each new thrust, you came more unraveled.
When Joel’s hand closed over the front of your throat, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t move—couldn’t move, as the man was holding you still in such a taut, rigid grip.
“What do we say when we get fucked this nice, baby?” Joel whispered in your ear, words almost entirely masked by the sounds from the shower. You still heard it, though.
“T-Thank you,” you stuttered, cockdrunk and faint.
“Thank you, what?”
Your eyes were fluttering closed, but you could feel the smug expression just over your shoulder. You clenched around him and felt him snap his hips ahead even harder.
“Thank you, daddy,” you whimpered.
“Say it again.”
“Thank you, daddy!” you whined, still scared to be too loud.
Joel wasn’t scared. His hand ascended the column of your neck to pinch your chin between his fingers, jerking your head to the right.
To the crack in the curtain. To the camera.
You could’ve cried with how fast he was fucking you now. You opened your eyes and cast a pathetic look to the recorder. Joel made sure you maintained that gaze, too.
“Who’s makin’ ya feel this good?” he seethed, shaking your whole frame with the breakneck pace of his hips.
“You, daddy.”
“Who’s fuckin’ this sweet cunt like no one ever has?”
“You, daddy.”
Joel seemed sated and somehow not fully satisfied at all. Like he was pleased to see you falling apart for him like this, but needed to hear more. Feel more.
He withdrew from you, and you nearly collapsed with the absence of his arms holding you straight.
You pressed a shaky palm to the wall and almost moaned for him to get his ass back over here, you weren’t done, when Joel returned in a second. To your relief, his muscly arms found their way around your front once more, and his clock plunged back inside you, too—only this time, you sensed you were missing something else.
Water.
It wasn’t on your back anymore.
It was fanning between your legs.
Blasting the full force of its stream toward your most sensitive parts as Joel held the shower head up between your thighs. You would’ve jumped back and screamed were it not for his hand clamping tight over your mouth before you could, his lips grazing over your ear again.
“Try it one more time.”
You released a hoarse, muffled squeal into his palm when he lifted the stainless steel to your clit and started rolling his hips. The strokes themselves were relatively gentle, but paired with the ruthless spate of the water, your eyes were nearly rolling to the back of your head at the pulse.
You couldn’t breathe, much less speak. Joel hummed almost apologetically into your hair but didn’t seem sorry at all as he lowered his hand back down to your throat and squeezed. He continued rocking his hips into yours.
“You’ve said it dozens of times before—what’s’a matter?”
Joel Miller knew what the fuck was the matter. He just liked to see you desperate, fucked-out, and teetering on the brink of going feral before he let you reach your peak.
“D-D-D—”
Damn, you sounded stupid.
“D-D-Do you wanna cum? Is that it?” Joel said, mocking your struggle to articulate words as he fucked you.
In spite of your normal no-bullshit attitude toward him, you weren’t in quite the right frame of mind to be talking back to him. You just nodded and moaned, movements constricted by the grip of his fingers on your neck.
“Use those big girl words for me, honey. I know ya can.”
Again, you parted your lips and started to speak, but the oscillation of the water, the brush of his cock, the patently deprecating lilt in Joel’s string of praises, made it nearly impossible. You ended up sputtering again,
“D-D-ah-fuuuckfuckfuck.”
“That ain’t the word I’m looking for.”
But, just as you ventured to say it once more, he cut in,
“Here. Lemme help ya find it.”
Before you could blink, Joel was pistoning his hips against your ass like he had before, only this time, he held the shower head stationary between your legs as you seized and nearly fell to the floor with the force of all the pleasure coursing through you. Your body seemed to act of its own accord, head dropping to Joel’s shoulder and stomach giving an alarmingly fitful pinch as an orgasm tore through you. You couldn’t control how it came or where it went—or how your tongue jumped up and cried,
“Daddy!”
Joel nodded, fucking you through each violent spasm with all the composure and aplomb of a seasoned pro. While your eyes cycled back in the throes of delirium, he held firm and didn’t slow his hips—or the shower head.
You probably could’ve torn a hole through a cinder block if you’d happened to have one between your teeth just then. That was how fervid and merciless the aftershocks of your climax were pulsing through you, exacerbated to the nth degree by the continuity of Joel’s movements. You managed to grab the forearm that was holding the metal nozzle and plead a wild, slightly stifled, “JOEL!”
In truth, you didn’t really want him to stop. It felt too good. You could tell that Joel sensed this, too, because in the instant after that, his lips were sponging kisses to your shoulder, cock working steadily between your walls.
“One more, sweet pea.”
“Joel—”
“And say it louder this time.”
Were you in your right mind, you probably would’ve chided him for being so reckless and stupid about it all. How the fuck could he expect you to scream out loud when your dad was lounging right outside of your room? Did he really think the drone of Cillian Murphy’s smooth, American-ized tone would mask your unbridled moans? Honestly, you couldn’t be sure—and more importantly, you couldn’t be stopped to consider for much longer. With one last trembling vibration from the shower head and a thrust from Joel, you were cumming all over again.
Squeezing his arm, sinking into his sturdy frame, clenching over his cock in what felt like a hundred convulsions, and casting caution aside, you screamed:
“DADDY!”
You might’ve blacked out for a second or two.
Even a minute, as it was, because the next intelligible thing that reached your ears was the thunder of footfalls. And the thrum of Joel’s own hammering heart as he yanked you into his chest and stilled frozen inside you.
The door swung open on its hinges so hard it hit the wall.
“What is it, sweetie?!” your dad yelped.
“I—”
“Are you hurt?”
Just fucked raw by your best friend and shaking, Pops.
You sucked in a breath when Joel nudged your head with his nose and slowly pulled the shower curtain closed to move you out of view of the camera. But it was still there.
Your dad was still there.
The shower walls seemed to be closing in on you, but somehow, you managed, “No, dad, I’m fine! Just…coulda sworn I saw another spider in here, but it was nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
Your dad sounded unconvinced, pacing closer. You could’ve screamed, but Joel was likely holding you too tight to make any such sounds possible in that moment. The two of you recoiled, still stuck chest-to-back, away from the edge of the plastic shower liner when a boot thudded just outside the crack between curtain and wall.
You swallowed. Joel squeezed. Neither of you breathed.
“If it’s another roach, I gotta call the extermin—”
“No! No, it wasn’t a roach. I’m just seein’ things, I think.”
That didn’t seem to make your father feel any better, because he didn’t retreat like he had before. A tense moment fell over the compact, fog-infested room, like the man was chewing away at some thought in his head.
Then he sighed.
“Alright.”
Blissful footsteps away from the shower. You smiled.
Unfortunately, the grin was destined to be short-lived, because in the next instant, you heard boots screech to a halt on the tile. Pivoted, then paused where they stood.
Another gut-wrenching dozen seconds passed, and for one short, chilling moment, you could’ve sworn you felt your father’s gaze sear through the curtain and see you.
But he didn’t see you. Or Joel. Or anyone.
Instead, his gaze was fixed someplace else.
Suddenly, his voice rose above all the awful noises of clamor and panic in your brain, and broke out, loudly,
“What’s my camera doin’ in here?”
#TO THE CREATIVE MINDS WHO BROUGHT THIS MAN’S BUSH TO TELEVISION…..I OWE Y’ALL MY LIFE#it took COURAGE and TENACITY to decide that showing the happy trail was essential to the narrative#joel miller#joel miller tlou#joel miller smut#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us#tlou#the last of us fic#joel miller x you#dbf!joel#dbf!joel miller
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"Where'd you get that bruise--Oh," in which your Genshin lover gets a good look at the first hickey he left
Warnings: please excuse mistakes as I'm on a time crunch and also sleep deprived, suggestive but still safe for work, humorous in some parts
Other works in this series: (You say I love you for the first time)
Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Tighnari, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader
Aether
gets flustered
"Uh-Umm... Maybe, you should..."
he wants to say cover it up but who is he to tell you what to do?
Starts to second guess if he really gave you that
Will start to think about the events of last night and deflates with embarrassment
Finally points it out, feels kind of bad that he left a mark
"It's just...distracting...I'm sorry if it hurt,"
Albedo
stares at it for the longest time.
There's a half smile, half amused look on his face, like he wants to be happy about it but doesn't want to be too obvious.
Just chuckles and points it out without any shyness whatsoever
"It's rather obvious, but do with it what you will,"
Comes up with some sort of concealing potion to help you hide it
Brews about a 100 of 'em
Alhaitham
Sort of does a double take, looks at it for a few seconds then looks you in the eye
"I'd advise you to hide it,"
he really only says that to keep things professional when the two of you go out
but in the next second he snakes a hand up your arm with a small secret smirk between the two of you
"However, I can't say that it won't happen again...Specially when..."
He recalls the events of last night at this moment, and it seems as if he's staring into your soul. He breaks away from you with a slight hum.
"...I best be going now."
He leaves you confused, but he only hurried off because he felt an urge to give you another one then and there.
Ayato
chuckles to himself
"Well, there's no hiding that I enjoyed myself,"
but gives you helpful suggestions on how to conceal it or at least make the colour less obvious, like putting ice against it, or something.
Speaking of ice, you can simply get it from the kitchen but Ayato is a tease... "I suppose my dear sister can adequately help you with that...Though what, pray tell, would you tell her?"
You kind of shrug and say that you'll tell her an animal bit you.
Ayato is amused "An animal," but there's a twinkle and hint of lust in his eyes. "Yes, perhaps that's what I become when it involves you. The statement isn't exactly a lie,"
Cyno
is silent. Not sure if he's happy about it or horrified.
Feels like a crime cause it looks like a bruise.
Does not say anything for a good minute because he simply doesn't know what to say and is talking to himself in his mind
Like Was I really the one who did that? Last night must've been...
Snaps out of his stupor when he's reminded of the events and clears his throat to catch your attention.
"Y/N...You...I...I've managed to leave a mark...on your neck..."
You absentmindedly touch it and let out a small ohhhhhhh in understanding
Clears his throat again and looks away, pretending to be busy with something. Flustered and doesn't know what else to say.
Dainsleif
Eyebrows involuntarily raise up at the marks.
Points it out immediately
"My dear, it seems that I had a favourite spot last night," and taps on your neck to let you know what exactly he means.
"I can conceal it with a little trick of mine, if you don't mind," he says he can make it invisible to the ordinary eye but some "special" people can see it, so...
"I suppose if you run into the traveller that you'd have to be honest about it. Hm? No, I don't quite mind if they know of our relationship,"
Diluc
is surprised, then apologetic
He didn't know is fully aware how rough he had been last night
Apologizes with a slight tint of red on his cheeks and can't seem to pry his eyes away from it.
"My apologies, Y/N. It looks like I was rather...careless...last night. You should wear something with a collar today...or perhaps, my coat?"
Is seriously considering repenting about it
Itto
"Whoa--"
Is legit about to throw hands but then remembers
"Oh yeah. I did that." while scratching his head bashfully
No shame about it afterwards, even has the gall to say
"I'm surprised it doesn't look worse! It was pretty wild last nig--"
You have to cover his mouth to save yourself from embarrassment
Kaeya
smirks and leans in close to brush his fingers against the hickey.
"It isn't the most flattering of marks but... it gives me quite the sense of accomplishment,"
winks, deadass tries to give you another one right away.
"How about we try that again? Just to even it out on both sides of your neck,"
is only half joking
Lyney
mischievous laugh
is more happy about it than shy, embarrassed or apologetic
"That wasn't very nice of me wasn't it?" but is still smiling
"Unfortunately I don't think I have any magic tricks up my sleeve to fix this one,"
Grabs and hugs you by the waist "I guess we'll just have to stay in, the two of us, until it's unnoticeable"
always looking for an excuse to spend alone time with you.
Neuvillette
clears his throat almost immediately when he sees it, like he choked on water
"Y/N," he starts rather sternly but falters and takes a few seconds to think.
"May I suggest wearing a scarf today?" is awkward about pointing it out so goes the roundabout way. You're so confused because it's the middle of summer.
"Well," he coughs once to try an explain to you. "I didn't have all manners of restraint last night...You were simply...irresistible,"
points it out by gently thumbing at it
Scaramouche
shit-eating grin at the sight of it
Doesn't tell you to cover it up, most likely wants you to go parading around with it.
"Tsk. What's the harm if people ask? Just be honest and tell them," he's just fucking around with your head now
but snatches your wrist and looks you straight in the eye with a confident smirk "And be sure to tell them who gave it to you. That'll teach them to back off,"
Tartaglia
laughs but is slightly apologetic
"Couldn't hold myself back, I'm sorry. How can I make it up to you?"
You tell him that the next time he leaves a hickey, he should leave it somewhere where it's more concealed.
"Oh?" sudden glint in his eyes. You might have said the wrong thing. "No take backs, Y/N,"
I think you know what or where he's thinking about
Tighnari
Doesn't say anything at first but immediately whips up a remedy for it. Some sort of green paste that helps with inflammation.
"Here," and hands you the bowl of herbs. "For that,"
He doesn't point at it but instead eyes it rather obviously
He also watches you put the paste on "Alright, just leave it for a few minutes and it should heal wonderfully,"
He doesn't exactly feel guilty but he's more worried that people will look at you weirdly.
"I suppose I'll have to be careful next time," with a sigh.
Wriothesley
laughs but bashfully face palms and tilts his head backwards
Recovers quickly and smiles apologetically
"Sorry love, couldn't hold myself back it looks like," lovingly takes your face in his palms
Can't hold his smile back "But can you blame me? I'm not gunna hide that I was way too excited,"
Suggests you to put a bandage of some sort over it.
"I'll try to be careful next time, but no promises,"
Xiao
Freezes while looking at it
For a split second is confused where you got such a mark but then flusters himself when he remembers it was from him.
"...Y/N..."
seriously does not know what to say
stands there staring at it that you finally just check in the mirror yourself. He hears you gasp and he kind of winces to himself and now feels a little guilty.
"I...didn't mean to hurt you,"
You quickly tell him it doesn't hurt, but you were just surprised.
Thinks for a moment, then mumbles, you can barely hear him "...So it's alright to do it again?"
Zhongli
chuckles, not shy about it. just amused.
"It's no one's fault except my own. I merely wasn't paying heed to how...carnal...my desires were,"
he again chuckles as he explains.
"Not to worry darling, I'm sure Bubu Pharmacy has something to remedy it. I'll be back with it in tow,"
brushes his fingers against the hickey as some sort of apology and promise that he'll fix it
End
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#genshin impact#genshin fluff#itto x reader#ayato x reader#neuvillette x reader#genshin x reader#wriothesley x reader#diluc x reader#zhongli x reader#cyno x reader#xiao x reader#lyney x reader#tighnari x reader#scaramouche x reader#alhaitham x reader
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You and Gojo making out around Suguru’s dick. 🙏
TWICE THE TROUBLE !
a/n: sorry i took so long to get to this anon i hope this finds its way back to you <3
warnings: poly!stsg, dom!geto, sorta sub!gojo, fem!reader, oral (f and m receiving), masturbation, suguru watches for a while, multiple rounds, use of ‘slut’, cum eating, cum shot, filthy and dirty as hell lol, n*sfw under the cut
it’s no secret that geto absolutely adored the both of you — whether it be looking at you bickering over whether maple syrup or honey is better for pancakes, or when he’s watching the two of you deep in slumber after getting out to get groceries at dawn to beat the morning crowd. it’s hardly different any other time, too much deep in adoration for his two babies that even fights are done with calculated voices and soft apologies.
and even now — watching how satoru whines for attention from the both of you, pulling gently at your nape to separate your lips from geto. you can feel the latter throb under you when gojo leaps forward to kiss you while you’re still in the other’s lap, feeling his hand leave your waist to trace the line down satoru’s back and right to his ass.
“sugu—” you hear against your lips, moaning something akin to your name after when your hands pull at satoru’s white hair shortly after, “n-need both of you . .”
“patience, satoru,” geto practically purrs, purposely humping his hips up into your cunt that you whine softly, too, grinning at how he’s always got the two of you at his beck and call. he runs the show indefinitely, and you’re both fine with it, heart fluttering when he asks for a favour.
“can you eat her out, baby?” he pleads with gojo, not before leaving you with a sweet kiss that leaves you wanting more and gently detaches himself from you, “let me watch my two pretty lovers, hm?”
you giggle a little at gojo’s eagerness when he nods and takes his place in front of you instead, rushing into a kiss that has you clashing teeth and groaning in pain, but with a small sorry from gojo and kisses down your neck, you’re forgiving him instantly when he finally peels off your soaked panties, groaning to himself at just how wet you were.
at the corner of your eye, you can see suguru stripping himself of his own underwear, stroking slowly at how gojo forces your sensitive legs open to lick a slow stripe up your cunt.
“’toru—” you shut your eyes tight, head tipped back as you put all your weight into your elbows, body naturally crawling away from the other’s skilled tongue from the intensity but satoru takes his time with you, easing you into the pleasure with how slowly he tugs you back to him.
“relax, princess . .” he mumbles, feeling himself get hard just from hearing geto’s hand along his cock, and now, at how he gets to eat your pretty pussy, “let me in, yeah?”
you moan softly just as he sucks on your clit, one hand reaching for his hair and the other for geto’s hand, him barely catching you just as you dig your nails into his forearm, dominant hand stuttering at little at the minor pain. gojo mutters praises into your cunt, slurping up your juices like it’s the very first time he’s eating you out.
“satoru— s’too much—” you writhe within the sheets, rendered warm from the morning sun that filters in and you can already feel your back start to line with sweat at the ecstasy, your boyfriend never stopping his relentless tongue flicking and sucking at your bud.
your other boyfriend watches in amusement and fondness at the two of you; the drop of your mouth and the twitches in your leg, to the subtle humping of satoru’s hips and his downturned eyebrows. satoru is just lost in your pre, making sure every bit of it isn’t lost to the silk sheets that he so impulsively bought for the both of you.
you gasp when your knees are pushed to your chest, left immobilised under gojo’s hand as he loses himself in your folds, tracing his tongue down your slit and right to your hole.
he makes sure to give you what you want when you only pull him more desperately into your core with moans that reach the moon. you’re grateful that at least suguru squeezes and twines his fingers with yours, watching with that damned smile on his face at your falling apart.
“’toru, sugu, i-it’s— i’m c—”
geto laughs, “so fast, doll?”
you burn at the small teasing remark, clenching around satoru’s tongue at the same time and he groans, nudging his nose deeper into your clit. with small jerks in your body and long whines that turn into short pants, they both know you’re close. the other speeds his hand up as well, following gojo’s noisy, sloppy licks along your pussy.
“pussy so sweet, suguru, hope ya can taste her later,” his muffled speech gets the other chuckling, even more so when they see their pretty baby all ruined over their sheets, their groans mixing in with your garbled speech, just whimpering and mumbling any word your foggy brain can think about at the moment.
“yeah? lookin’ forward to it, then.” geto struggles through gritted teeth at the feel of his hand — it would never compare to the both of you, but it’s all he can manage. he did say he wanted to watch and he’s enjoying gojo’s hips humping the sheets now as he focuses on your puffy, sensitive clit.
“she close, ’toru?” gojo’s affirmative moan sends vibrations up your body, sending you into overdrive when geto leans down to meet your lips, releasing your hand to your chin gently to steal your breath. it’s rough, drool dripping from the messiness of it and the other willingly swallows your sounds, tipping over the edge just as satoru lays his tongue flat along your cunt.
“mm fuckkk—, s-shit, satoru—!” you cry into suguru’s skin, wrapping fingers around his wrist for some anchor as you gush all over your other lover’s mouth, coating his face with cum. geto’s lips part as he watches the both of you, filling his ears with your high-pitched mewls against satoru’s deeper moans that he spills with your names on his lips, filling his hand with his cum.
but the dark-haired man isn’t done, oh, no, and you both sure as hell aren’t either with the way you don’t hesitate to bring his other hand to your lips to clean it, scooping all of his cum onto your tongue.
“dirty slut,” he whispers, relishing in how you start to suck on his fingers. and then he’s blessed with the both of you tugging on his arms so he’d be on the edge of the bed, seemingly an arrangement you two agreed on. it’s obvious that you two definitely had a little talk about this when he switches between both you and satoru kneeling on the ground, tongues out and waiting.
“oh . . darlings,” geto coos, stroking his cock lazily. you’re the first to wrap your lips around his tip, suckling as he shivers at your warm mouth. but it’s not long until you’re taking it out and bringing gojo’s head closer, slapping geto’s sensitive cock on the other’s tongue. the scene sends immediate thrills down to your core, pulsating and throbbing under you.
suguru groans at the sight, his two pretty lovers using him however which way; gojo bobs his head along his boyfriend’s cock, pressing his tongue against the base of his shaft while you aid him momentarily with a hand to his nape. your hands never forget his balls, squeezing and playing with them while satoru sucks him off — and then it switches again.
this little game continues on for a while, gurgling noises and wanton moans filling the room every time his cock enters one of your mouths.
it’s so different, too — you like to have saliva dripping everywhere, a sloppy blowjob with his tip touching the back of your throat and your nose buried in his pubes. satoru likes consistency, stroking the parts he can’t reach and bobbing his head obediently and making sure he looks up at him with those blue, blue eyes of his.
“oh, baby, baby, shiiit . .” suguru groans out, hands clutching the sheets so tightly it might cramp, until you’re both squishing your faces together, each getting a share of his tip that’s leaking the remnants of the previous round.
“t-that’s so hot, fuckin’ hell,” he swears when you two start to make out around his cock, equal part of lips on each other and his length that he gets twice the pleasure and the blessing of the two of you. geto slips both his hands into your hair, cradling your heads as you two slurp and suck and slobber over his throbbing dick, moaning into each other’s mouth.
there’s strings of cum that connect you both to geto, translucent white all over your lips and hands that only adds to the obscenity, your hand coming up to help stroke his cock.
satoru follows suit, larger hand engulfing yours and looking up at him through white eyelashes again, smiling to himself when he hears geto’s choked up words. he’s so hard it hurts, the mere grinding against the sheets doing nothing for him so he moves a hand between his legs, letting out soft pants.
“i’m gonna— c-cum . .” it’s even a wonder he’s held out this long, and you add fuel to the fire when you speed up your hand along his shaft, catching the glint in satoru’s eye with a giggle and sharing in the honour of being able to have geto suguru at your mercy.
your mind is muddled, the mixture of suguru’s previous load and satoru’s strawberry scented lip gloss sending you into a frenzy. under your lips, you can feel the dark-haired man twitch, you can feel gojo’s soft lips, it’s almost too much when the latter whines into your mouth. geto interrupts; “i’m g’nna give both of you my cum— haah . . ”
you’re both off him when you hear that, pleading with two sets of eyes and with outstretched tongues while your hands never stop their assault. gojo makes use of his pretty ceruleans while there’s multiple “please’s” falling from your throat, ears flooded with the wet shlick’s of your hands.
“oh my g—god . .” geto’s hands are so tight around your hair it borderline hurts, just hunching over the both of you with his eyes fighting to stay open, “fuck— i’m c-cumming—”
his pupils are blown wide when he sprays his cum over both your faces, spurting his seed all over your tongues and cheeks. the room fills with your moans at the feeling, with hand making sure you’re milking his cock for what it’s worth. suguru’s lips contain variations of your names alongside profanities, thighs shaking under him as whines escape him.
“aw, the both of you—” geto hums, fingers releasing your hair to hold your cheeks and he wished his hands weren’t so gross and sticky so he could at least make you two pose for his camera, but his jaw drops when you both turn to each other to have your lips meet again, mouth gaping as he watches his semen drip everywhere and your tongue against satoru’s — a scene of pure filthiness.
“j-just know how to treat me . .” suguru watches, dumbfounded as gojo licks his cum off your face and vice versa, before you both turn to him with grins that remind him why he likes to take the reins in the bedroom.
“and now, i’ll treat the both of you . . how’s that sound, darlings?”
#asks#anon#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo smut#geto smut#stsg x reader#satosugu x reader#satosugu smut#geto suguru smut#geto suguru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojou smut#getou suguru x reader#satoru gojo x reader
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Okay so I saw this post and you know the types of fics where adult Danny moves to Gotham and winds up emotionally adopting one or more of bat kids or accidentally coparenting with Bruce (with or without a relationship between them)? I had the thought, what if Danny parented the bat kids but he started doing it out of spite?
Like, Danny moves to Gotham and runs into Batman and Robin one night while out for a late night flight and drops down to the rooftop to say hi.
Bruce sees this 5'6" twink that looks like a stiff breeze could knock him over and is so obviously new in town and thinks Gotham is going to eat him alive, he needs to leave before he gets killed.
Batman: Looming menacingly and in his deepest scariest Batman voice, "Leave. Metas aren't allowed in Gotham."
Danny: Offend! Excuse?! Who does this guy think he is?! 😡 Danny was trying to be polite here! "First of all, I'm not a meta. Second of all, rude much?!"
Batman: Does scariest bat glare. "Leave." Swoops off into the night.
Robin (Damian): "My father is correct. You should leave the city for your own safety."
Danny sees this tiny vigilante child with fierce expression and a sword and is just like awww, so cute! 😍 Then he noticed Robin had a small cut on his arm and his inner gremlin activates. If the rude flying furry can't take care of his own kid properly, Danny will do it better!
He bandages up Damian's arm, gives him a cookie and teaches him a neat sword trick before sending him on his way with a hug telling him he needs his sleep.
Danny goes out of his way to run into the bat kids and be the absolute best dad.
He takes Nightwing flying and throws him in the air so Nightwing can do all the fanciest acrobatic tricks.
He tracks down Red Hood and starts a book club with him (Danny may or may not have used his connection with Ghost Writer to get ahold of some rare books).
He eats waffles with Spoiler and trys out weird topping combinations that make them both make faces and laugh.
He makes new gadgets for Red Robin but carefully breaks them just a little bit and takes them to the teen so they can fix them together (it's enrichment!). He always insists RR keep them as a reward.
He follows Signal around during the day invisibly, making faces and doing tricks only Signal can see (he made him laugh in front of the police at a crime scene twice!).
All of the kids get his attention and love and Danny smugly thinks how Batman must be absolutely seething about his kids bonding with Danny and Batman missing out on all of it.
Danny started it out of spite but he does wind up genuinely loving the bat kids.
Batman definetly hates it when the kids are bonding with Danny and is extremely jealous (sulky Batman brooding in his cave about it).
Bruce's repeated attempts to intimidate Danny into leaving Gotham don't work and him telling his kids to stay away from Danny had zero effect (the terrible children don't listen to him at all).
So Bruce starts spending more time with the kids to compete against Danny. The bat kids love it and (little gremlins that they are) use the two of them against each other constantly.
Bruce:"Sorry Tim, I can't make it to your photography exhibit this weekend, there's a meeting with the Justice League."
Tim:"Oh that's fine... I'll just ask Danny to come." 😏
Bruce: Narrows his eyes and grits his teeth, "Actually, the Justice League needs to have contingencies in place to manage without my input. This would be a good time to test their capabilities. I'll skip the meeting and come to your exhibit."
With both of them competing to spend more time with the kids it leads to the two of them spending time with each other to be around the kids more.
After Damian catches a terrible flu bug, Danny spends an entire weekend at the manor babying him. This is when Bruce finds out Danny has known their secret identities for months and tries to get mad about it but Alfred puts his foot down, raises a judgmental eyebrow in Bruce's direction that puts a stop to that nonsense and sets up Danny with his own room in the family wing.
Eventually, Danny gets to the point where he spends most of his nights at the manor and he and Bruce consult each other on all major household decisions.
The whole family is at the manor one morning including Danny. Bruce has a meeting at WE and he and Danny are absently discussing their plans for the day at the breakfast table.
Bruce: " The meeting should take most of the morning and then I have paperwork this afternoon and a scheduled walk through on one of the new engineering projects. I probably won't be done by the time school let's out. Can you pick up Damian today?"
Danny: "That shouldn't be a problem. Would you mind swinging by the bookstore on the way home and getting my preorder? Jay and I just finished rereading the first book and we were wanting to start the second tonight before you all go on patrol. I'd rather not try to make it to the bookstore in school rush hour traffic"
Bruce: "Sure."
Stephanie watches Danny reach out and absently straighten Bruce's tie as they both get up to leave. Bruce grabs Danny's coffee thermos and hands it to him while they walk out the door.
Stephanie: "Sooo, bets on how long until they realize they're basically married?"
#dpxdc#dcxdp#dp x dc#dc x dp#Adult Danny#Parenting out of spite#Bat dad#Batfamily shenanigans#bat kids#There's a mug in the manor#It says Number One Dad#Bruce and Danny constantly steal it from each other#Bruce/Danny?#Maybe#they're both idiots#But they love their kids
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Show me where it hurts (part 2)
Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader
GIF by aenhanse
(AO3 Mirror), Part 1, Main Masterlist
summary: You confront Miguel.
warnings: breeding kink, cum play, animalistic behaviour (not quite ABO), mutual masturbation, dirty talk, praise and degradation, Miguel eats ass like a fucking champ, general filth etc etc. very very 18+, minors dni (and i will b blocking!)
a/n: thank you for all the support for part 1! I will say, all the comments about relationship building and stuff do make me laugh a little bc this part is literally just p0rn with a teensy tiny bit of feelings.. but if you follow me this should be pretty standard by now.
wc: 4k ish
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You let yourself in again, but not until after pounding on the door.
You think he's home, the scent of something in the air. At first glance, his place is empty, but a mess : cushions ripped off the couch, kitchen ransacked of its contents, floor covered in blankets and clothes. It makes you worry: Miguel is so clean it's scary . He would never leave his place like this. You hear something from his bedroom and rush towards it.
He's there, back turned on the bed. But something's wrong. In sweats and a tank top, he's breathing heavily, clutching at the sheets.
"You shouldn't be here." He strains.
Eyes wide, you step closer. Is he in pain? Is he hurt? "Miguel. I just want to help. Did something happen?"
All he does is shake his head, unable to make eye contact with you. "I c-can't let you… please, bichita. It's not safe for you."
Your heart breaks at his helplessness, you get closer, and perch on the bed next to him. He jumps at the hand you place in his shoulder. Fuck. He's drenched in sweat.
"Miguel, please. Let me in… I'd do anything. Just let me help."
He groans with his head in his hands. "I know, bichita. That's the problem. I can't let you…"
You look at him properly now. He's writhing on the sheets, tense and unable to sit still. Guiltily, all you can think is how good he looks; pretty even when his hair sticks to the nape of his neck, when he groans lowly at your presence. Your eyes rake down his body, looking for a secret wound, or something he's hiding. When you spot it, you gasp.
Miguel is rock hard under his sweats. And he is massive.
It clicks. Ashamed, he makes hesitant eye contact with you. "It's not usually this bad. And it gets worse if I'm near someone I'm…" He breathes. "Someone I'm attracted to."
You can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the statement; of the situation. "I think that's just what erections do, Miggy."
He rolls his eyes, too annoyed to be as uneasy for a moment. " No , God, I meant my DNA. There's something wrong with me, something animalistic , that makes it ten times worse. I'm going crazy. Smell, taste, touch… and it doesn't just go away. "
You hum. "And what's your hypothesis?"
He looks at you, a little crazed, but he gets it. If you talk to him like it's one of your status reports, like it's another mission, maybe he can stop thinking about pounding you into the sheets and filling you up with his cum.
He clears his throat. " You . Gets worse when I t-think about you, or you're near."
You've got a hand on his thigh, rubbing circles that go straight to his head.
"What makes it feel better?"
Deep breath. "Touching myself. But I haven't… and I won't-"
"Why?" You smile like a Cheshire cat. Are you… enjoying this?
"I can't. You're a friend and it's a violation of your trust."
"It hurts. You're in pain. I give you full permission to give yourself some relief. You can touch yourself, for me. I want you to feel good."
His hips buck up involuntarily. Just thinking about it is driving him crazy. " Mierda. Stop talking like that-"
"Like what?" You bat your eyelashes.
"Like that ." He hisses. "Like you want to get fucked."
He squeezes his eyes shut, even more guilty. "I'm sorry. That's not appropriate at all. I shouldn't have… snapped like that."
You rub your legs together: you're fucking soaked. Like this, with his senses going crazy, you don't know if he can smell it, taste it in the air. The thought makes you even wetter.
You mumble. "Meant it, Miguel. I just want to watch."
Agonisingly slow, you sink to your knees in front of him. He watches, eyes wide, trying not to lean into it.
"Do you want me to beg? Because I will, if it makes you feel better."
He grabs his crotch, rocking into his palm. You're breaking him down, bit by bit.
"I think you like punishing yourself, Miggy. You think you deserve it. How long have you been like this? Weeks, I bet. When all you needed to do was ask me. I would've helped you over the phone if you wanted it. Told you how to stroke your cock, where to put pressure, asked you if it felt good. Think about how good it would feel. The relief. "
You rock on your heel and it doesn't go unnoticed. You light him on fire, and the thought of you getting off only pushes him closer to the edge. "Can I tell you a secret?" You whisper. He nods fervently. "I've always wanted you in my mouth. Just wanted to know what it would feel like; how pretty you'd look when you cum."
It's too much. His back arches, and he groans, spilling into his sweats. Astounded, you look up. So. Much. Cum. You didn't think a person could physically produce so much, but here he is, coating the inside of his boxers with it. Miguel, however, looks embarrassed: his first orgasm in a week and it's spilling into his trousers in front of a pretty girl like a teenager. He groans, covering his flushed face.
"Can I…?" Your eyes are wide in amazement. Shakily, he nods.
Is it bad for you to say he looks just like you imagined? Tan, long and with a bit of girth, and under all the cum he seems well-groomed. He's still half hard, which is impressive considering the sheer amount of cum splattered everywhere. Probably, he has the prettiest cock you've ever seen. As you pull down his boxers, your very obvious glee makes him pause.
"...you like this?" He seems genuinely confused, and it makes you giggle. You've flustered him, yet again.
Resting a head on his thigh, you look up at him through innocent lashes. Your other hand swipes cum off his tip, making his cock jump. "Could ask you the same. You're still hard."
"I can't believe…" He mutters. "You're gonna kill me."
"What do you want, Miguel?" You put a hand on his length, rubbing up and down ever so slightly. "You want to get off?"
"I want…" It makes him grunt all the same. He goes from wayward glances to looking you straight in the eyes. " You . I want you."
"How do you want me?" Deceptively innocent, you coax his length back to full mast with your hand.
How do you want me? There are a thousand thoughts flying through his head, and his brows tense with the weight of them. Head back, he leans into your touch. He doesn't want to scare you, with the way he's been thinking about that question long before you asked: weeks, months, years before now. You see him hesitate, and bite his lip.
Your hands still and he cries out, cursing the loss of warmth. "M'not asking again." A little softer now. "No judgement, Miggy. I just want to help."
Deep breath. "Anyway I can. Wanna fill you up with my cum. On top. U-Underneath. Mierda. I want your mouth. I want your sweet cunt. I-"
You silence him with a moan when you envelope his cock with your mouth. You close your eyes in bliss as you bob up and down. Just the tip, teasing , and he's already addicted. With a pop, you separate, pressing sticky kisses and kitten-licks to his shaft and torso. He can't take his eyes off of you: peeking up at him through wispy lashes, licking up his cum.
Pretty, plump lips smack at his tip obscenely. He can't help but think about how well it suits you; mouth around his cock like something holy. Precum pours from his slit and you lap it up, chasing his moans. Your own moans vibrate deliciously around him and he wraps a hand in your hair. Finally. You want him to enjoy this, to lean into your head-bobbing, and force your head down onto his dick. You want to feel him in the back of your throat, bullying into the warmth of your mouth and moulding you into the shape of him.
It starts with a little pressure at the back of your neck, deceptively subtle as he rocks his hips into your face. Making eye contact, you look up and feel your pussy clench around nothing. His eyes are lidded, gorgeous, mouth slightly parted and tongue darting out to wet rosy lips.
"You want it, hermosa ?" His voice has a different texture to it: deep and wanting and needy.
As best you can, you nod, humming affirmations around his cock. Oh God, of course you do. You want him; anyway you can, anyway he'll let you, more than he'll ever know.
He pushes you down, hard, cock hitting the back of your throat like a piston. You gurgle and choke around him, throat tightening in a way that makes him melt. You force yourself deeper, hot tears welling up at the corners of your eyes. Your hands claw at his thighs, nails digging so tight into the fabric you think he might bleed. Winding a hand down to your heat, you press your palm into that sweet spot at your clit and Miguel watches, hungry.
"Oh fuck , you feel so good. I'm gonna– m-mierda – m'gonna cum."
With a final tug, he pushes you down so your nose brushes at the curly hairs leading down to his cock, spilling into you with vigour. It pours down your throat and you drink it up with pleasure.
"All gone?" He asks, panting with exertion. In response, you open up your mouth, sticking out your pink tongue so he can inspect it. He stirs when he realises just how cock drunk you are: nary a trace of him left on your tongue.
Slowly, he brings a thumb to your mouth, and watches intently as you swirl it around, and suck on it keenly. The pressure makes him light headed, other hand reaching for your waist to pull you up. And pull you up he does, turning you around so he can take off your suit and have you seated on his lap, where you belong.
You let him, shrugging off the top half of the suit as he pulls down your zipper. Surprisingly gentle, he traces the slope of your shoulders, and down to your bare ass. He groans. No underwear, because of course , you want to kill him. You want him to die, pussy-whipped and half-hard. He pushes you towards the wall, back pressed flush against him. He drags his fangs across your neck and whispers into the shell of your ear, making your whole body shiver.
"Once I start," He kneads your ass, grinding his cock against you. You gasp. He's still hard. "M'not gonna be able to stop. And it's not going to be sweet, bichita . You leave now and I won't be angry . I–I'll give you space, whatever you want."
" Miguel," Head back, you moan into his touch, dragging his hand towards your slit, hoping he’ll relieve the pressure at your pussy. "I want it to hurt. I want to feel it tomorrow– fuck– f-feel it when I walk and know it was you . Need it. Need you , please-"
He bites into your shoulder, and you moan wantonly, back arching into his length. He places your hand on the wall, palms flat. Like the chaser after a burning shot, he soothes haphazard squeezes down your back with his mouth. Hot, messy kisses, as he sinks to his knees. He forces you to hinge at the hip. Breasts pushed against the cool wall, you gasp when you feel him spread the globes of your ass as he presses his tongue to your hole. He licks the length of your slit, and like a slut, you lean into it.
"Prettiest cunt I've ever seen, hermosa." He brings his hand to your clit, giving you a wet slap as he watches you shudder. Again, and again, until you cry out.
" Miguel, fuuuck."
How has he gone his whole life without hearing you say his name like that? Yet again, he almost cums in his pants, loosely shoved over his aching length. All he can do is watch as your holes flutter and clench around nothing, mesmerised.
"You'd look even prettier filled with my cum, hmm?" He presses a sticky kiss to your puckered asshole, before easing his tongue inside. One hand holding you open, the other comes to play with your pussy, swirling your wetness around your throbbing clit.
He tongue-fucks you with fervour, like a man starved: only coming up for air to babble obscenities.
"Tan bonita, bichita." Slowly, he eases his fingers into your cunt, scissoring them open and shut. He wants to break you apart with only his hands, if you'd let him. "So pretty– fuck. So soft, baby. Beautiful."
You're close and he knows it, fucking yourself on his fingers and face like a bitch in heat. Undeterred, he brings a thumb to your clit pressing down with juust the right amount of pressure.
"Wanna feel it, hermosa . Can you cum for me? All over my fingers like a good girl, just like that, así de simple."
With the way he paws at your pussy, all you can do is clench around his fingers. He guides you through a shaking, biting orgasm, licking up your cum with a flourish. Even with shaky legs you manage to turn around and pull Miguel up, and he follows eagerly. He looks fucked out already, eyes low and lips swollen with your slick. He motions to strip, stretching his tank top across the expanse of his chest and letting his cock spring free from his sweats. When you move to help him, he stops you, moving your hand from his tank to his solid torso beneath. He wants you to touch him; to feel your soft palm run across his skin, and sink into the warmth of your body.
One hand at your waist, he presses you against the wall, grinding his cock to your clit. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and they fit like they belong there. Close, impossibly close, and his pupils are blown, wide. It's like he can't decide what he wants to do to you, sharp red eyes darting over your lips, your neck, down to the juncture where you both meet. A paralysis of choice, and all he can do is drink you up in the low light.
And so, you make a choice for him, lips crashing against his, hand snaking around to guide his cock into your hole. He sinks into you - finally - and you swallow his moans in the aftermath. He's slow to start, eyes screwed shut as he gets used to how tight you are around him. Slowly, he rocks into you, the heat of his palm steady at the crook of your back.
Miguel opens his eyes, caging you in with his other arm. He's testing the waters, angling his hips to find the spot that makes you tick.
"I didn't-" He breathes. "Didn't think it would be like this."
You look at him in your haze, brows knitted.
"I thought that when I finally fucked you, it would be more romantic." He gives you a strained chuckle and warm smile. "This is better in some ways, though."
"Better , Miggy?"
"Real." Your cunt flutters around him, and his pace stutters. Not once does he break eye contact, something swirling beneath the surface. "Not in my head. God , that sounds pathetic."
You giggle into the crook of his shoulder. It shouldn't be possible, but his eyes soften even more. And then, his expression changes into something dangerous.
"I can't do this just once, bichita. You can't give me a taste and then take it away. Es cruel, mi vida."
As if to punctuate his point, you feel his tip slam into that spongy spot in your walls. His strokes become more calculated, punishing and exact, sending waves of pleasure radiating throughout your body.
"Miguel – fuck– that's not fair- "
"Can't keep humping my hand como un perro , like a dumb dog, anymore." He brings both his palms to your ass, spreading you apart, and pulling you up onto his dick so your toes barely touch the floor. The slap of your ass against his thighs and heavy balls fill the room, pornographic in nature.
"Let-" Smack. " Me-" Smack. " Fill-" Smack. " This-" Smack. " Cunt. " Smack.
You babble into his ears, affirmations and praise that makes his heart and cock swell.
'So pretty, Miguel. Yours. All yours." You rake your hands through his hair, harshly tugging him closer in a way that makes him burn up. Clenching around his length, you wrap your legs around his waist. He barely falters, pulling away from the wall and slamming into you regardless. You've seen him like this before; fiery determination that flares up on a tough mission. Tunnel vision: a razor-sharp resolve that has manifested itself in a man hellbent on your pleasure.
"Miguel. Miguel, I-" I love you, I love you, I love you, I- " -wan' you to cum with me. Deep, please."
Now, his pace gets sloppy, hips stilling to drive himself as deep as you asked; so you can feel him long after you separate. Hot, sticky cum pumps into you and his balls strain with the effort of it. You claw your hand against his back, trailing delicious marks with your nails. When you clamp around him, you swear you see his eyes roll back - lost in the bliss of your cunt. Together, you come down from the high, bare chests panting against one another.
"Don't look at me like that." His lips graze yours, soft and plush. You stretch your chin upwards, chasing the trace of a kiss he refuses to give to you. Eventually he relents, leaning into a sweet kiss, arm wrapped around your waist.
He pulls himself off of you with a wet smack, gently carrying you to his bed. He places you in his sheets and you look beautiful, blissful, and fucked out. Cum drips onto your thighs and he feels a pang of possessiveness. His cum. His baby.
Clambering in to spoon you, he can't help but paw at your pussy, using his fingers to stuff his cum back into you, tracing lazy circles on your thigh with his other hand.
"I'm on birth control, Miggy. So no need to worry." You snuggle into his touch, bare skin against one another.
"Wasn't worried." He grunts, sounding almost disappointed. You catch his tone, intrigued.
"No harm in trying," You lilt, turning around to place your palms flat on the wide span of his chest. "You wanna fuck a baby into me?"
Nodding, he groans, head back into the pillow, and you push him onto his back. Pussy throbbing, you straddle his hips; thighs tight around his middle. You can feel him growing harder in the slick of your slit.
You arch into him, tender hand around his throat. It's a sight he won't forget easily: you on top of him, the gloom of the night tracing the swell of your tits. An angel, all the same. You whisper something into his ear that gives him goosebumps; a full body chill that goes straight to his cock. "My turn, bichito."
~~~
"You never called." Miguel says, laying his head next to yours, after wiping you down with a clean towel. He hands you a spare shirt of his, and you put it on, self-conscious.
The two of you had fucked well into the night, making good on your promises. His stamina was relentless, pumping load after load into you, pussy-drunk and babbling. There was an intensity there that couldn't be explained: one that made both of you crazy for one another, burning you out between the silky sheets of his bed. Something you had initially attributed to his rut, whatever he had called it, but desperately hoped it was something more. How could this be just sex? After everything you had said and done, it would crush you: to taste the forbidden fruit and have it snatched away just as easily.
You had both laid there for a bit, afterwards, cock softening in you. Plugging up his cum, he had said, but it felt more intimate in the quiet calm of his bedroom.
"You didn't either." You throw back at him.
"That's not th-"
"I know, I know. It just felt weird, s'all." You turn from him, looking up at the ceiling. Counting the mottles and marks in your head, suddenly shy. After all the filthy things you've said and done to him, he still makes you shy. "I thought I did something wrong."
His heart breaks. "No, no , it wasn't-"
"Not just today. Last time…a-and the time before that, honestly. We see each other less. You're always busy with something. Felt like you were avoiding me." Rubbing your temples, you sigh. "S'why I cut some corners on the mission. Made mistakes. I thought if I did well, and we had something to talk about…"
"Mierda." You can't bring yourself to look at him, to see the disappointment in his scarlet eyes. But it isn't disappointment, and it’s not directed at you.
"I wanted to call, but I didn't. Because I didn't think you would answer." Finally, you turn to see his brows knitted: swirling with shame, guilt, sadness. Quickly you add, "I mean, I know why now. I think. And it's really on me, I should've said something or-"
"I just… I didn't know what to do with it." He takes your hand in his, squeezing tight.
"...I don't understand."
"All this love I have for you." He says, impossibly soft. "I didn't know what to do with it."
You know him like the back of your hand and you've heard it all: angry, snarky, giddy, beautiful Miguel O'Hara. But this? Confirmation of the feelings you've held for years at this point, dismissed during late nights and pored over during lonely ones - this?
"And I didn't think you felt the same way, how could you? You're beautiful, and smart, and you have this… way of making people burn as bright as you. So I poured myself into work. That's all I know how to do, bichita. Work. Suffocate under everything. You don't deserve it."
With the way he says it; resigned, matter-of-fact; you want to cry. Still, he hangs on to the notion that he must earn it : that his claws are too sharp and fangs too bloody for redemption. For love, for life, for good things. Miguel O'Hara; doing what needs to be done. Alone, always.
You come closer to cup his chin, to make sure he's looking at you. There can be no ambiguity, no gray area when you say what you want to say.
"You don't tell me what to do, O'Hara . " You press a kiss to his cheek, and another to trembling lips. "I decide what I deserve. No-one else does, not even you."
"It's not like you listen to me, anyway." He says with a shaky smile.
Sitting up slightly on your forearms, you place your head up on his chest. Listening to the steady thump-thump of his heart. You don't need your super senses to know that he's alive, that he's here. The look in his eyes; you couldn't explain it if you wanted to.
"Bichita." You say, out of the blue. No doubt due to your poor pronunciation, he winces. "What does it mean?"
Clicking his tongue, he waves it off. " Very vulgar, you don't want to know. I mean, I shouldn't really-"
"Hmm." Shaking your head, you feign ignorance. "It's just that Lyla said it meant sweetheart, or little bug... terms of endearment, I think was the phrase."
"She said that?" He frowns. "Lyla's filling your head with nonsense, m'afraid. It's sarcastic. Post-ironic, metatextual… it comes across completely different in Spanish, mi vida."
"Post-ironic? That's not even the second most pretentious thing you've said today…" Giggling, you bury your head into his chest.
"Of course not. I reserve my best stuff for you."
"Real classy, O'Hara. Bet you say that to all the poor women that end up in your bed."
"Nope." He hums. "Just the ones I've been in love with for the past two years."
He pulls you closer, smiling into light kisses on your shoulder, the fat of your stomach, your thighs, on your cheek. Kisses everywhere, anywhere he can reach.
"Just you, bichita." He breathes into your skin. "Only you ."
_
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_
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#i lied lmao#lots of feelings#miguel o hara x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara#across the spiderverse#atsv#spiderman 2099 masterlist#spiderman 2099 x reader
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