Tumgik
#grumpy old lady hours
autumnslance · 11 months
Text
Gridania vs the Elementals
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Had a bit of a grouse on Twitter after seeing a decent take with a buncha of real not decent replies. Transcript of the tweets:
ARR inherited the mess in Gridania from the 1.0 team, no idea how to fix it, so ignore it.
It's also clear it's mostly a People problem, not the utterly alien blue-orange morality Elementals the folks who live in the Shroud adapt to living with (& corrupt folks use as excuses).
The Elementals are obviously not policing every detail of folks' lives & barely comprehend mortals as seen several times. When they lash out it's cuz they sense a threat they don't understand. Hence the need for Padjal & Hearers. Who are people & make mistakes or are corruptible.
Assuming the Elementals are evil or cruel for the hell of it is grossly misunderstanding the alien horror aspect of the Shroud & the druidic story of the Padjal. Nature isn't all kind & fluffy. The Elementals aren't even personified nature; they're aspects of it that can react.
The trouble in Gridania always comes from people mistreating each other, & sometimes that includes making claims about the Elementals. It's the same as corrupt priests in Ishgard or Monetarists in Ul'dah. Using authority for personal gain. It's explicit in the StB LTW quest.
I'd love to see Gridania get a glowup the way the other city-states have. I don't expect it to happen. Mostly I wish for it so maybe a fraction of folks would grasp slightly better the concepts of corrupt authorities vs alien nature elements.
I also once wrote a lot more about "why doesn't Kan-E just fix it?" as if it's that easy. https://autumnslance.tumblr.com/post/625180125899669504/the-seedseers-privilege
What happened in the EW Tank quest was cuz the Elementals couldn't tell who was at fault or why. They do not understand mortals or their reasons. They just knew something was happening. Removing padjal aspects instead of killing the boy too likely was their idea of mercy.
Meanwhile I'd side-eye any Hearer who claims "your kid specifically can't be cured cuz the Elementals say so."
If you don't trust an Ishgard priest making such claims of Halone telling him the same Herself, you shouldn't believe that Hearer, either. Why would they care or not?
Anyway. Not everything's a nice neat black & white easily understood & fixed situation. And the Elementals don't actually need fixing. Gridania does, but that's gonna take longer & isn't necessarily the WoL's job, but it's peoples'.
194 notes · View notes
humanmorph · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
local pool experience.
4 notes · View notes
strang3lov3 · 24 days
Text
Enjoy the Silence
You trespass into Joel’s house in search of some peace and quiet so you can get yourself off. Joel catches you in his bed in a compromising position. (5.2k)
Tumblr media
That’s Pedro’s bum can you tell I love ass
Tags- pillow humping, masturbation, getting caught in the act, some humiliation but Joel talks you through it, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, prone bone, softdom Joel, little bit of crying (good tears) creampie, let me know if there’s something I missed.
A/N- Thank you to @tightjeansjavi , @notjustjavierpena , and @noxturnalpascal for all of your encouragement on this I know I’m not easy to deal with sometimes AND thank you my dear readers for being patient with me, I’ve been slacking on writing/uploading. I’d love it if you’d say hi to me, I’ve been missing you!! Hope you enjoy this one I’m glad to be back❤️🩷💜💙🩵
It’s too fucking loud tonight. You live with a group of single women in Jackson, all somewhere around your age, a few older, a few younger. You get along well with them, and they get along well with each other. Too well, perhaps. They’ve been talking for hours tonight. Hours. And they talk for hours most other nights too, especially now that the weather is starting to warm up. They’ve been making drinks and playing music, being rowdy. It’s past eleven at this point and they’re still going at it. 
You can’t sleep. The blankets are too warm, but without them you’re cold. You’ve flipped your pillow over what feels like hundreds of times.  It’s just one of those nights. Except every night is one of those nights, it seems. You tried touching yourself to fall asleep easier, but with no success. It’s not exactly the easiest getting off in such a full house. You’ve got privacy in your bedroom, sure. But the walls are thin and sound carries with such ease.
 God, does this suck. A lot of your problems would be solved if you could just get yourself off. You sit up in bed and stare out your window and into the window of the house next to yours. Joel’s window. His lights are off now, but earlier you had caught a glimpse of him getting out of his bathroom. His hair was wet and slicked back, his skin shiny and damp. He’s so sexy, so thick. That’s when you moved your hand between your thighs as you watched him pick out clothes from his dresser, biting your lip and circling your clit frantically as you prayed for his towel to drop. It didn’t. It never does. You groaned quietly in disappointment as you watched Joel walk back to his bathroom and then come out moments later fully dressed, subsequently shutting off his lights and leaving his bedroom. For a moment, with your eyes and your thoughts focused on Joel, you were able to block out all the noise and focus on your pleasure. But then he left and the pleasure vanished. 
You’ve lived next to Joel for quite a while now. More often than not he’s grumpy, keeping mostly to himself and Ellie. He’d usually just glare at you and your roommates. He can be friendly with others, though. 
Once one evening, Joel had spent five minutes knocking at your door to complain about the noise. You saw it coming, you and your roommates had amassed quite a few dirty looks from him in the moments prior. You watched him through the window, glaring at your porch from his own. Your roommates were outside, talking and listening to an old but new-to-you CD. He wore a scowl and his arms were crossed at his chest when you finally opened the door. 
“You ladies are chatty,” he grumbled. “Your music’s hurtin’ my ears.”
“We can be chatty, yeah,” you replied, “But you’re kinda crotchety.”
Joel sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’m askin’ you politely to keep it down,” He turned to leave then, but you tapped the back of his leg with your foot, stopping him, “You could go inside, you know,” you taunted.
Joel turned back around slowly. He looked so big, so broad as he looked down at you. “So could you.”
“Hm,” you hummed. You weren’t really sure why you were arguing with Joel when really, you agreed with him. The CD player sounds tinny and hurts your own ears at times, you can’t imagine what it does to Joel’s damaged ears. And the girls were too loud, other people live around here. But you were annoyed at the way he came over to complain about the noise level when he doesn’t know half of it, how loud it gets. “Fine. I’ll get them to quiet down if you do something for me.”
Joel raised his eyebrows, “Oh, I’m doin’ ya favors now?”
“Something like that,” you said. 
“What do you want?” he asked through a sigh. 
“You’re right, they’re being too loud,” you explained, “You don’t know how loud it can be, actually. I’ll try to get them to quiet down if you let me get some peace and quiet.”
“How’s that?”
“Well, your house is usually pretty quiet,” you began. 
Joel nodded. “Mhm. And I like it that way.”
“And I’ll keep it that way,” you urged. “Please? My roommates are so loud, I can’t even hear myself–” 
“Yeah, I know. Come on,” Joel interrupted. “Let’s go inside, then. Talk to your girls tomorrow.”
Joel led you to his house, opened the door for you and brought you inside. He offered you a glass of water and told you to make yourself at home, so you sat quietly on his sofa. Joel sat on the loveseat next to you. He figured you’d have brought a book or something to busy yourself with, but when he looked up at you after a few moments, you had curled your legs into your chest, laying sideways on his couch. He laughed to himself quietly and laid a blanket over your body, then turned out the lights and went upstairs to bed. You had never slept so peacefully. And that’s how the tradition began, Joel would let you come over to enjoy the quietness of his home. You never made good on his end of the deal, though. Your roommates stayed too loud, but it didn’t matter. You and Joel had found a system that worked for you both. 
Still staring at Joel’s window, you shift your attention towards the direction of Joel’s front door when you hear it slam shut. You watch him stroll away, probably off to drink with Tommy or something like that. 
Your core is still aching, a dull but constant ache. You’re thinking about Joel, unable to get the image of his slick body out of your mind. You’re thinking of the quietness of his house. Peace and quiet would be nice right about now. It’s never this late when you go over to Joel’s. You know you’re welcome over any time. Joel gave you a key to his home when you earned that privilege. But surely he didn’t have that open-door policy for what you’re thinking of using his quiet home for. He wouldn’t know though, right? 
Fuck it, you decide, climbing out of your bed and sliding on a pair of slippers. First grabbing Joel’s key from your nightstand, you exit your room and go down the stairs, going towards the back door where you walk past all of your roommates in the living room who don’t seem bothered or worried about what you’re up to this late at night. The chill of the air bites at your cheeks and your shoulders. You didn’t bring a jacket, but the distance from your back door to Joel’s isn’t a long one. 
You unlock his back door with your key and let yourself inside, scraping any dirt from your slippers on his doormat so as not to track it inside. It’s always quiet, but the silence is almost eerie. It makes you feel uneasy, doubly so because you know you’re doing something you shouldn’t be. But you’ll be quick. Joel won’t know, so no harm no foul. 
You scan the first floor, looking for a quiet, comfortable area. Joel’s home looks almost like TV in black and white the way it’s so dark right now. The first floor is no good, you’ll feel exposed. So you walk up his stairs, and your first instinct is to go to his guest room. You spend a lot of time there anyway, when you’re not napping on his couch you’re napping in that room. But he keeps it clean for you, pristine. The bed is made neatly and tailored specifically to his taste. You’d never be able to recreate that, he’d instantly become suspicious.
Across the hall is his own bedroom, not nearly as tidy as his guest room. A clothes pile on a chair, the shade of his lamp slightly off kilter. His bed is made up of crumpled sheets and blankets, the pillows indented from the weight of his head. Joel won’t know a thing. 
You tiptoe into his room, closing his door but the creak of its hinge cuts through the quiet air and startles you. Maybe it’s better to leave it untouched. You make your way quietly to his bed, first sitting on the edge, your feet dangling slightly in the air. You kick your feet a little, letting your slippers fall off. You feel so out of place here, so wrong. Like you’re invading his privacy, but you’re not. Not really. You’re not here to snoop or to do anything wrong, you’re just here to…well.
You lie back in his bed, his sheets are soft and worn, cold on the back of your legs. Their scent fills your nostrils, they smell like Joel. Like soap and his musk, slightly sweaty. It’s almost like he’s here with you. Spreading your legs and dipping your hand beneath your pajama bottoms, your mind starts to wander. Tracing your clit with your fingers, your brain is flooded with flashes of Joel. At first, it’s images of his neck, his forearms, his hands, all the veins protruding, muscles flexing. You’re circling your clit faster as you imagine he’s here with you, that it’s not his bed you’re lying against but instead his chest, he’s holding your knees apart as he nudges your head to the side with his nose, your neck exposed for him to lick and kiss and nip as you tease your cunt. You come quickly and your fantasy drifts from you. You make yourself come once more before you adjust the bedsheets slightly, put your slippers on and leave. Joel’s bedroom looks just as he left it. 
You watched him, learned his evening schedule. On Tuesdays and Thursdays he’s out on evening patrol, he doesn’t come home until the early morning. Those are the nights you sneak over to his house. As time goes on, you learn that you can be less careful. You don’t bother wiping your shoes, you don’t tiptoe like you used to. You’ll push the bedroom door open wide when Joel leaves it halfway shut. When you leave, you don’t bother laying the sheets back in the way Joel has them crumpled.
Joel notices.
You still come over for your usual quiet time, and Joel studies you. He’s begun sitting close to you, trying to memorize the smell of your shampoo on your hair. He thinks he smells it on his pillow. And the scent of your body, your soap and your perfume. He thinks he can smell it on his sheets. He thinks he can smell you on his sheets. 
You stay too long in his bed one Thursday night, startled when you hear Joel’s heavy footsteps in the distance. You bolt out of his bed, going down his stairs both as quickly and as quietly as you can. You shouldn’t have been so ballsy. Joel thinks he hears the door close but doesn’t pay it much mind as he undresses and gets into bed, and he doesn’t even notice you running back to your house from his window. What he does notice, however, is the way his bed feels warm as he lays down. He runs his hand along the length of his bed, the sheets feel cool on the opposite side. When he flips on his side, his nose nudges against something damp on his pillow. That’s when he sees your light flickering on from across the distance between your two windows, he sits up in bed to get a closer look at you. He watches your chest heaving like you’re out of breath, perhaps from sprinting across his lawn. He watches you then fall on your bed, he sees both of your knees hike up and spread apart. That’s when he puts two and two together. Suspicions confirmed.
He always knew you were trouble. And now he knows what you’ve been up to, trespassing to touch yourself in his home, in his bed, without him. You goddamn deviant. He’s gonna catch you in the act. 
-
Four whole days go by, which gives Joel enough time to find someone to cover his evening patrol. It’s Tuesday night and he’s got his bedroom lights off so you can’t see him watching you from his window. You look antsy, pacing back and forth across your room, frequently checking your window to see if he’s left yet. When Joel does leave his home, he’s conscious to not look behind himself at your window, to see if your light turns off. He doesn’t want you to know that he knows. He doesn’t look to see if you’re sneaking through his lawn. Instead, he keeps walking, giving you ample time to really screw yourself. When he feels a sufficient amount of time has passed, he turns back around and walks home. He enters his front door slowly and quietly, like a ghost. He takes careful steps through his living room, up his stairs. When he reaches his room, he pushes the door open wider and leans against the frame, listening to your breathy moans, watching you grind on his pillow in the low light of his room. You’re gripping his headboard as you whine, you’re even wearing one of his dirty flannels. Sick puppy. 
“Joel,” you moan to yourself. “Joel, oh god–” the lights turn on and you turn your head to see Joel leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed.
“Joel!”
“Yeah, I know,” Joel murmurs. “Caughtcha, didn’t I?” Any words you could possibly think of are caught in your throat. You feel hot, itchy. Joel notices the key he gave you sitting on his dresser and spins it around his finger. “Wasn’t what I had in mind when we set up our little arrangement.”
“I was– I wasn’t–” you shift uncomfortably as Joel puts the key down. 
He shuts his door and approaches you on his bed, first examining his headboard. He hums when he sees there’s little indents in the wood from your fingernails, marks on the wall behind the headboard. It all makes sense now. When Joel sits next to you on his bed, you quickly slide your ass off of his pillow and away from him. He’s quicker, tugging your– his flannel in the opposite direction, forcing you back to your place. “Nuh-uh,” he chides. “You stay right there.”
The air feels thick and Joel’s eyes are dark, almost inky black. You can hardly look at him, his intense gaze making you squirm. So instead you look down, where he plays with the fabric of his flannel, admiring the way it dances on your thighs with his touch. He lets a silence hang heavily between you both as he presses his lips in a thin line, waiting for you to explain yourself. You don’t. You can’t. You feel so exposed, so ashamed of yourself.
“Whatcha been doin’ to my pillow?” he finally asks. His voice is low, quiet and deep. He’s met with more silence. “Makin’ a mess, s’what. Up to no good, hm?” More silence as you adjust his flannel over your body, protecting your modesty. “I’m askin’ you a question,” he takes your chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, forcing eye contact. 
“Yeah,” your voice is hardly above a whisper. Your face is hot, your waterline is brimmed thick with tears, a few spilling over. “I’m sorry, Joel.”
“Ohhh, I know,” Joel coos, wiping the tears from your cheek with his thumb. “M’not tryin’ to embarrass ya, darlin’. S’human nature.” You can’t even begin to think of a way to get out of this situation. “S’that pillow ‘sposed to be me?”
“Yes.” 
“Figures,” Joel mumbles. “Makin’ me blush,” he taunts, tracing lazy patterns on your thigh. His touch makes your tummy flutter, it feels misleading. Like you’re enjoying it almost, though you shouldn’t be. “All you had to do was ask, sweetheart,” he says. “Didn’t need to make believe with my pillow. Get yourself into all this trouble.” You can’t quite get a read on what his angle is here. Still aroused and you feel nervous, small, guilty – awaiting punishment of some sort. 
 You’re defeated. All you can do is nod in understanding. You find the bravery to meet his eyes, his gaze still dark and intense, perhaps even hungry. He walks his fingers up the length of your thigh, noticing how you twitch as he nears your center. “I’ll go easy on ya f’ya tell me the truth. How long you been doin’ this, sweetheart?”
You are in trouble. He’ll go easy on you if you tell him the truth. “I dunno,” you whisper.
“Sure you do.” 
 You don’t even know. A few weeks, a month maybe. You shrug. 
“Think you wanna be honest with me,” Joel advises, provoking you slightly. Nothing from you. “S’alright. You don’t have to tell me. Just means you’re gonna finish the job.” 
“What?”
“You’re gonna finish what you started,” he says. “And this time I’m gonna stay right here and watch.”
Your heart drops. You search Joel’s eyes, looking for some sort of indication that he’s fucking with you. You’re not sure that you’re capable of this. Sex and masturbation are already two different animals. Getting off in front of the man you fantasize about in his bed? Where would you even begin?
“You had the balls to start this, you’re gonna finish it. Come on sweetheart, show me how you do it,” Joel nods, gesturing for you to begin. When you don’t, Joel scoots even closer to you on the bed. “So shy, aren’t you?” He turns his body toward you slightly, outstretching an arm across your body and then holds your hip in his strong hand. He begins to guide your movement, encouraging you to rock back and forth on his pillow. But you’re stiff in his hold. “Come on now,” he encourages, “Y’can even hold my hand f’ya want.”
Joel holds his free hand out to you, still moving your hip with the other. He knows how vulnerable and exposed you feel right now. Taking his hand, your other gripping the headboard once more, you still can’t meet his eyes, Instead you squeeze them shut, your hips following the guidance of his grip. 
“Why you bein’ quiet?” he asks, “Need to hear ya.”
Complying with his request, you let out a shaky and small moan. More of a whisper, really. He hums in approval, encouraging you to be louder. You’re starting to build a pace and find your courage, at least a little. 
When you let out a real moan, a real sound of pleasure, Joel squeezes your hip. “Ohh, there it is. Good girl,” he coos, “Good fuckin’ girl.” 
It’s instantaneous, the way his praise goes right to your core. You’re rocking your hips faster now, adjusting yourself to find a better angle. You can feel your own slick beneath you on the fabric of Joel’s pillow, wetting your thighs and your ass. His hand grips your own firmly, holding you steady, reminding you that he’s here with you.
Joel smirks as you move on your own accord. He lets go of your hip to explore your stomach and your torso with his palms, his fingertips dancing along the underside of your breasts. He sits up to get closer to you, tweaking one of your nipples beneath his fingers and sucking the other into his mouth, licking and swirling his tongue around the peaked bud. You tangle your fingers in his salt and pepper curls, tugging the strands as you ride his pillow. 
This is all he wanted. To watch you leave your mark on his clothes, in his bed, on his walls. He pulls away from you and watches you in admiration, moaning softly when he finally presses his palm against his bulge. He undoes his jeans and pushes both them and his boxers down his thighs, then removes his shirt. He grips his cock tightly, biting down on his moans as he gazes at you with lust in his eyes. He thinks you’re getting close now. Your hips are beginning to stutter in their movements, you’re getting quiet now like you’re concentrating on your pleasure, your body’s tensing up. He’s been so focused on you, he’s forgotten all about the fact that this is supposed to be your punishment for trespassing. 
Fuck. The punishment. 
Joel doesn’t have a clue how he’ll punish you as he lurches forward, kneels behind you and pulls your arms from the headboard. He hopes he’ll find the answer along the way. All he knows is that you’re not coming, not yet. Especially not by your own doing. Yeah, that’ll work, he thinks. He’ll bring you to the brink of orgasm, make you beg and apologize before finally letting you come. Maybe he’ll not even let you come, he’ll see how he’s feeling as time progresses 
Joel holds your arms behind your back in one hand and you yelp in surprise, then he adjusts his placement and pulls you back by your legs until you’re prone on his bed. “Up, sweetheart, up,” he mumbles, lifting your hips and pulling his pillow back, propping your ass up for him. The dampness of your arousal on his pillow feels warm and sticky against your tummy.
He palms your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh before parting your cheeks with his thumbs. He runs a single digit through your soft, slick folds, humming as you tremble beneath his touch. You’re so wet. “What a fuckin’ mess,” he purrs, pressing his middle finger against your entrance, circling it before pushing inside. You keen into his touch, arching your back for him. 
“Joel,” you whine as he pulls his finger out. 
“Do you know what a mess you made?” He doesn’t bother letting you attempt to respond, you’re way too addled for his touch to answer his question coherently. Joel dips his tongue between your sensitive folds, replacing his fingers. Just like how he touched you moments prior, he traces your entrance with a pointed tongue before dipping it into your heat. Your arousal is like honey, so thick and sweet on his lips. 
He tastes you, savors you as he kisses your cunt. He’s lapping through your slick folds, his tongue parting all of your sensitive flesh, sensitive just for him. You can feel the wiry hairs of his beard tease your clit before he dips his lower, circling and flicking your bud with the muscle. He sucks it between his lips, making you squirm and writhe in pleasure. “Joel, oh my god.”
Your fantasies of Joel were never like this, never so indulgent. He’s sucking at your clit, then licking, nipping at your folds, before focusing his attention back to that bud. You’re moaning, pushing your ass back and grinding against his mouth, feeling his aquiline nose tease your hole. He’s buried between your most private place, his tongue flicking and swirling with such fervor. You’re biting into his sheets and seeing stars when he enters you with his fingers once more, curling them into that sweet spot inside of you. 
You’re bucking against his face, your slick soaking his fingers to the knuckle, spilling into his palm. His fingers’ movements don’t falter as he pulls his mouth away from your cunt, trailing kisses over the crease where your ass meets your thigh. “You’re close, aren’t you?”
“I’m so close,” you answer through a gasp. 
Joel kisses up your ass cheek, “How many times did you make yourself come in my bed?”
“Twice,” you reply. You’ll answer any question he asks now.
“Only twice?”
“Tonight.”
“Ohh,” Joel says. “Twice tonight. How ‘bout in total?” 
You don’t know the answer. Of course you don’t. He’s doing the math in his head as he fingers you. He’s thinking at least twice a night, twice a week. This venture of yours has probably been taking place over a couple of weeks. So that’s…more than enough, he decides. “Yeah, ‘course you don���t know. S’lot though, hm?” He lifts his face to watch you nod. “In that case, m’not sure that you need to come again.”
“I do,” you whine, “I need it, Joel.” 
“You want it–” Joel pulls his hand from your core and you cry at the loss. God, you wish his mouth was back there. “You be good to me and I’ll consider it.”
Joel pumps his cock momentarily behind you before he nudges a knee between your thighs. “Wider,” he instructs, leaning over you from behind.  He brackets your thighs with his own, one hand on your waist as he notches the tip of his cock inside of you. He doesn’t yet push all the way in, though. Instead, he waits as you squirm and arch your back for him, trying to take more than what he’s giving you. You whine in frustration. “Easy, now,” he warns. “Should ask permission. Nicely.”
“Please, Joel,” you say, “Fuck me.”
“Yeah, there you go,” he praises, working into your body. You sigh in satisfaction as he buries himself in you fully, his tuft of coarse curls scratching against the skin of your ass. “Wasn’t so hard, hm?”
Joel tightens his grip on your hips, denting his nails into your skin like how you did to his headboard. His thumbs are pressed firmly into your lower back as he begins to roll his hips into you. The way he thrusts so languidly into you makes your head fuzzy, the only thought you can focus on being the sensation of his thick cock parting your insides. He’s fucking you steadily now, and you can feel the skin of his thick, pillowy tummy caressing your back with every stroke. Fuck, how good he feels.
He fucks you apart, setting a steady rhythm. Joel knows how much you needed him, how much you wanted him before now. How you love it, how it’s nothing but pure pleasure that makes up your whimpers and gasps and the tears on your cheek. He leans lower, covering your hand with his own and intertwining his fingers between yours. You shiver as he tugs your earlobe between his teeth, then licks and kisses your ear, his mustache tickling your skin as his nose nudges your temple gently. He takes a moment to kiss away your tears and rests his arm around the crown of your head, caressing your hair before fucking you wildly.
“Feels nice, doesn’t it, sweetheart?”
“So good,” you choke out. 
You can feel Joel’s grin against the shell of your ear. “Just how you imagined when you were fuckin’ yourself on my pillow, hm?” he purrs.
“Better,” your answer is honest. 
“Yeah, I know,” he says, “Good answer, sweetheart.” 
He curls one of his forearms beneath your bicep, reaching for your breast and tweaking, pinching you as he wraps his other arm around you, searching for your pussy with his hand. He finds your sensitive bundle of nerves and draws lazy patterns over it, teasing you. You’re so wet. So slick, your pussy gushing with each stroke of his cock deep inside you. The sounds of your slick and skin slapping skin are lewd, obscene as he pounds his hips against your body. He’s grunting, gasping in your ear. It sends shivers down your spine. 
You’re twitching and bucking your hips, chasing that tightness beginning to build in your tummy. “Easy,” he murmurs. “Let me take my time with you.” He knows how desperate you are to come, but Joel makes you wait a little longer, feel the burn some more.
You’re whining and squirming as Joel fucks you, his face buried against your neck the hair on his cheeks scratch you. He’s biting, nipping at your skin as you let out your breathy little moans. In every inch of his body, he feels it–that power he holds, knowing you’re aching to come on his cock and it’s all because of him, it’s all for him.
His cock is beginning to twitch and he’s feeling that warm, sticky feeling in his gut and deep in his balls, he’s not lasting much longer now. He fucks you harder. “What about now, huh?” he grunts, “Should I let you come now?”
“Yeah,” you moan. “Yes. Let me, let me.”
“Then ask me,” he whispers, momentarily slowing his pace. He draws in and out of you slowly as he speaks, “S’all I wanted you to do, just ask me.” 
“Please let me come, Joel,” you ask.
“Good girl,” He brings his hand to your face, shoving his fingers past your lips. You know what he wants, no need for his instruction. You’re moaning, sucking on the digits as he fucks you, the motion of his thrusts grinding your clit into his warm palm. Joel feels you begin to tense up as you choke on his fingers. “There you go, let go, let go f’me. You’re alright,” he coos. “Come for me. I’ve got you.”
You’re stiffening underneath him, eyes screwing shut as you let yourself go. You come on his cock and against the calloused palm of his hand, ecstasy washing over you in thick, electrifying waves. Joel watches your face closely, he memorizes your cries of pleasure and how you convulse beneath him. He’s fucking wrecked you. 
You’re gurgling on Joel’s fingers that are still in his mouth as he slides his other hand away from your cunt in favor of resting it up high by your head. It’s his turn for release now. He’s without a thought when his hips begin to stutter as they lose their rhythm, the frenetic slamming of his body against yours indicating his closeness. He lets out a symphony of grunts and moans into your ear as he comes inside you, painting your insides with his spend, milking himself entirely. You take it all, everything he gives you, whining at the overstimulation and the way his release makes you feel so warm and full. Your cunt is slippery with his come as his thrusts begin to slow, slow some more until he stills inside you completely, resting on top of you. With a groan, he pulls out to admire his work, to watch how your combined arousal spills on his sheets. He uses two fingers to push some of his escaped come back inside you. 
You stay laying on your tummy as you cross your forearms to use as a pillow to rest your head. Joel meets you on his bed, also laying on his tummy. You hadn’t even realized he undressed himself. 
He reaches over to caress your cheek, then your flannel-covered back. “Nice touch,” he murmurs. “S’pretty on you.”
“Smells like you,” you confess quietly. “Turns me on.”
Joel makes an amused face as he nods. His eyes are sparkly but sleepy and your cheeks are warm, you bite down on a shy and embarrassed smile. He smirks at that.  “So bashful,” he purrs. “You’re welcome to use my home and wear my clothes for your dirty work any time you like,” he says. “Just invite me every now and then.”
-
If you enjoyed, please leave me a comment, rb, or send me an ask, tell me your thoughts. Your kind words and engagement keep me motivated to write
2K notes · View notes
steddieas-shegoes · 3 months
Text
sir, this is a wendy's
for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'modern au' rated t wc: 765 tags: established relationship, proposal, kinda silly
-----------------------------------------------
"They're out of the cookies, sweetheart," Eddie turned to Steve as he came back from the restroom of the Wendy's.
They were still nearly six hours from home and exhausted, a little bit grumpy if Steve's silence for the last hour was anything to go by.
"I'll have a Frosty then."
"Machine's down."
Steve blinked at him before sighing.
"I guess nothing then, right? Just the burger and fries."
Eddie sighed, too.
The visit with Robin hadn't gone...well. She'd told them she was taking a year to study abroad and part of the program meant she could only come home for one week during their summer break. Steve wasn't taking it well that she'd go from being an eight hour drive away to an eight hour flight away.
He was being patient.
He knew Steve hated change like this, and he'd only been sitting with it for about 12 hours.
Eddie turned back to the cashier with a smile.
"Two number two's, one with no onions and one with no tomatoes please."
Steve was standing next to him, staring down at his phone. When Eddie looked over, he had a tab open showing the program details of Robin's study abroad track.
While they waited for their food, Eddie watched Steve biting his lip, then his thumbnail, and then his lip again.
"Stevie, what's goin' on in your head?" Eddie finally asked.
Steve shoved his phone in his pocket and looked at the floor.
"Nothin'."
"It's clearly somethin'. You worried about Robin?"
"Obviously," Steve huffed.
"Love, she's-"
"Steve Munson!"
Both of them whipped their heads back to the counter, where a woman was pushing a tray of food towards them.
Steve's wide eyes looked back at Eddie, cheeks a bright red.
Eddie walked up to grab their food, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach at the thought of Steve actually being Steve Munson.
It's not that he hadn't thought about it before; He had thought about it most days for the last year.
There was a ring in his drawer at their apartment to prove it.
"Table?" Eddie choked out, avoiding eye contact with Steve.
They were quiet as they sat down, taking their food off the tray and looking at it. Not eating, not even touching it anymore, just looking.
"Um."
"So."
They looked at each other, then back down at their food.
"Steve Munson sounds kinda nice," Eddie said hesitantly.
"Yeah?" Steve was picking at the wrapper around his burger now.
"I mean, I've thought so for a while."
"You have?"
Eddie was really about to propose in this Wendy's.
Without a ring or a real speech.
Just himself and a few old people in the corner eating chili.
"I'm gonna do this for real somewhere that isn't a Wendy's on an exit in some shitty town that has two gas stations and a Wal-Mart, but for now." He cleared his throat and reached across the table to take Steve's hand. "I dunno why they called that name, but maybe it's a sign. I love you. I know right now you're having a lot of thoughts, and you don't have to answer me. I'm not even on one knee, but really this is a Wendy's and my knee's been hurting for the entire ride. I love you. I said that already."
Steve giggled and Eddie couldn't help smiling back at him.
"I love you. I'll say it as much as you want, as long as it makes that smile happen. I'll say it when you're sad and grumpy, when you're happy and silly, when you're tired, when you're hyper. If it's okay with you, I'll scream it right here."
"In the Wendy's?"
"Yes, in the Wendy's."
Steve just nodded.
"Attention everyone! This man right here? I love him!" Eddie was saying loudly, gaining the attention of everyone around them. "And I'm asking him right now, to be my husband!"
"Sir, this is a Wendy's," an old lady sitting in the booth across from them said.
Eddie and Steve immediately started laughing.
"Well, is he sayin' yes so you'll shut up or what?" An old man said from the other end of the lobby.
Eddie looked at Steve with a smirk.
"Yeah, I'll marry you," Steve said loud enough for everyone to hear.
A couple people clapped, but for the most part, everyone went back to ignoring them.
Eddie kissed Steve softly, chastely.
"Was this a distraction from the Robin thing?" Steve asked.
"Not intentionally. Worked though."
Steve rolled his eyes fondly.
"You better make the real proposal a spectacle."
"Anything for you, my love."
761 notes · View notes
manias-wordcount · 5 months
Text
Playing with Fire (Benimaru Shinmon)
Kinktober 2023 Day Twenty-Eight: Bath
𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?
𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?
Tumblr media
You love nights like these.
  Nights where you can sit back with a sigh and enjoy being silent. Being alone. Nights where you can tilt your head back and look up at the star-filled night sky as you in soak in the warm, warm waters of the outdoor onsen for hours upon hours. Nights where you can clear your mind or think very quietly. Plan out what you want to do before bed. Think about what errands you need to run tomorrow. And just exist.
  So of course, when the onsen doors open, you don’t bother checking what woman decided to come in and join you. But you do raise some eyebrows at the rough way the door slides open. And as heavy footsteps start sounding afterward, you figure it wouldn’t hurt chancing a peak at whoever just came wandering it- just a little one at least. Though instead of a grumpy old lady or an overly excited young girl walking towards you- you’re met with a far, far, far different sight.
  A perfect view of your husband approaching you as he drops the towel around his waist and exposes his body to the cool, outdoor air.
  “Beni!” You’re practically shouting the man’s name as you turn around quickly and fully with a wild splash. One look at his face tells you that he’s not surprised by your reaction. Or that he necessarily cares about it. No, he just continues to step on with confidence. Standing at his full height. Straight-faced. Fully naked. As if he owns the place. As he belongs here. But you know the truth. And you’re almost certain he knows too given the fact that the two of you have been here many times before. And the big sign on the door leading to this particular bath. “Beni, get out! This is the girl’s side, you can’t be in here!”
  At your words, he falters. Right now, he’s standing at the edge of the bath. Ready to step in and join you. But for a second, he turns and looks at you. With a tilt of his head, he studies your expression carefully. Eyes dragging along your face and looking a little further downwards. At your neck. At your shoulders. At the instinctive way your arms have come up to cross against your chest and block your boobs from his sight (despite the fact that he’s seen them plenty of times before). At your torso, and the water surrounding it- blocking the rest of your body from being seen. And then he turns his head back up and looks straight back at you. The small hint of a devious smile, playing at his face.
  “Who said?”
  “The rules, Beni!” You exclaim back in response, but your words come far too late. Because before you can even finish your sentence, he’s already stepping into the water with you and shuddering at the change in temperature before relaxing completely. Your eyes widened as you took in your boyfriend’s complete and sudden disregard for the rules of the onsen. For a second, you glance at the onsen entrance, hoping and praying that no one was thinking about coming in until you managed to get him out of there.
  But then there’s the sound of more splashing. Waves rippling and water swishing around the bath. You turn around to look at your husband only to find that he’s closer than before. Much closer than before. In fact, when did he have time to sneak up on you? When did he have time to walk this far into the part of the bath that you’re lounging in? 
  When did he have time to get so close that you’re just barely a breath away.
  You suppose in a way, you should have expected it. In everything he does, Benimaru always marches to the beat of his own drum. It just so happens that this drum was a little quiet today. Maybe that’s why he came into the girl’s side of the bath and marched in like he owned the place without another word. Maybe that’s why he was able to sneak up on you- creeping closer and closer until suddenly he’s all but touching you. Standing face to face. Eye to eye. Breathe to breathe. 
  Maybe that’s why you’re a little too eager to let his hands reach out and touch you- even though you know in this moment just how much you both shouldn’t. How you just couldn’t. And yet…
  You don’t say anything as large hand places itself on your arms, and gently helps you uncross them- giving him a full view of your chest covered in water droplets and being lit by the stars. You don’t say anything as another hand reaches out and grabs onto the curve of your hips. His fingers spread out, almost possessively as they try to get as much of your ass as they can grab at this angle. It allows him to tug you a little closer than ever before. Hold you a little tighter. Have your chest press into his so you can feel the warmth spread from feverish his skin with every rise and fall of each breath. 
  You hum at his actions, the heat making your mind a little looser. Your judgment a little less clear. Any desire to follow the rules sounds a little like a fever dream now. Because the water you’re standing in? It makes you feel nice. It makes you feel relaxed. But him? He makes you feel so warm. He makes you feel so hot. And that hard thing pressing up against your lower stomach just below the surface of the water?
  It makes you feel even hotter.
  “What were you saying about rules?” Benimaru asks you, an eyebrow raised as the corner of his lip tilts upwards- almost sharing with you a smile. But you don’t pay his words any mind. Not while you’re busy letting one hand reach up and wrap around his shoulder as your hands reach up to play with his hair. Not while you’re busy leaning into his touch impossibly more- to steal some more of that warmth- some more of that fire- that only your husband can bring to you. And certainly not while your other hand is reaching down, down, down, and wrapping around a very, very dangerous thing. One that will surely result with you bent over the side of the bath and screaming his name if you’re not careful.
  But that’s fine with you. When you married Benimaru, you knew you were playing with fire.
  And he knew just how much you loved to get burned. 
582 notes · View notes
lanabuckybarnes · 5 days
Text
18+ Minors DNI
How about an under cover mission with Bucky that gets comprised because he sees the high slit in your dress, the way it hugs your body so perfectly and those tits— he couldn’t let you leave the safe house in that.
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: unholy amount of dirty talk, like oh lord it just don’t stop, a lil smidge of possessive buck.
He’s got a deep dark look in this GIF that drives me WILD.
Tumblr media
“This isn’t happening” he groaned into the earpiece once he ripped his eyes from you, only for you to walk in front of him and give him a view of your perfect ass wrapped in black. He can feel his slacks becoming uncomfortable the more he continues to blare his steel blues into your figure.
“Bucky?” You turned to look at him after sensing his eyes on you and, shit, the fucking whine in your tone, you were doing it on purpose, weren’t you? You wanted him to fuck this whole mission up just for a piece of that ass and yes, yes you did.
“You’re not wearing that” his voice strained as he struggled to maintain his regular grumpy old man façade. A darkness falling over his eyes that only you knew— that possessive darkness that melted into his eyes whenever he thought they’d be other eyes on you but his.
“What do you mean Buck? The dress? It’s just the get-up, it’ll be fine for a few hours”, nothing got past your eyes. You saw his blue hues run themselves down your body, the way he shifted uncomfortably in those trousers.
He sighed, hands moved quickly, pulling the earpiece from his ear before everything about him invaded your senses. The way he ran his nose up your neck to the top of your head, savouring that oh-so-familiar scent mixed with the artificial perfume you’d been tasked to wear.
“Buck!-“
“Shhh, I told you sweetheart…. You’re not leaving in that. At least not until I can make sure everyone knows you’re mine” His voice was husky, his cologne rich and his overall presence domineering— your legs wobbled almost dropping you to the floor before his thigh slot itself between them. His throat growled at the feeling of your clothed heat against him.
“I feel that pretty pussy, she doesn’t wanna leave either”. His words sent a cold shiver down your spine, his right hand trailed down from its position on your hip to your thigh, the other following suit not long after. The different temperatures in both hands caused a desperate whine to fall from your lips and a buck of your hips against the scratchy fabric before you could stop it.
“You’re a good girl ain’t you? My good little girl— jump for me baby” His hot breath fogged up your senses, till everything was him. It was all Bucky.
With your legs now wrapped around his waist your heat pressed perfectly against him, his control over himself was slipping dramatically. He didn’t care about the damn mission anymore, just you.
“Fuck baby I’m losing my mind, you’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you? Corrupting this poor old man’s brain, making him think of nothing more than that fucking cunt huh?” He enunciated the last few words with heavy snaps of hips into you, his hardness rubbing you just right drawing weak little moans from that pretty mouth.
“Good girl, all desperate for me… you want that cock hmm? Tell me you want it” he groaned against your mouth when you rubbed that heat against him.
“I want it, I want it please” fuck you were so pitiful, you’d promised yourself you’d never beg for a man yet here you were— rubbing your little body all over the front of Bucky’s slacks and begging him to do god knows what to your body.
“You’re so sweet, even threw in a little please for me” his brows quirked as his left hand ventured down between your bodies. The cool metal wrapped around the now sodden lace sent a pleasured shock throughout your body, the cold knuckles brushing against your swollen nub, a soft little ‘fuck’ falling from his smug lips at the feeling of your dripping pussy as he pushed the panties to the side.
“You’re so ready, my little lady all soaked for me— fuck you’re driving me insane I can’t think of anything but that pussy” he mumbled pulling himself from his fly and jerking his length with the essence your hole had left on the metal of his fingers.
“You ready baby?” His words were uncharacteristically sweet as he rubbed his spongy tip over your little bundle of nerves before tapping himself on it softly, biting back a smile when your body jerked at the action.
“Mhmm” you could only nod and moan, that was enough for him. He was thick and long as he pushed in, even after countless nights together you’d never get over the way he filled you.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” He held onto your hips tightly as his sweaty head fell onto your breasts. “fucking— almost came right there” he moaned before bucking up into you at a glorious pace. The movement of his hips was overwhelming, the cold metal of his fly brushing over your clit at every jerk of his hips, you’d be on cloud 9 before you knew it.
“That’s it, clench around me baby, milk me nice and good” fuck his words were filthy, far different than the Bucky he’d show everyone else— nah this was just for you.
“Shit sweetie! I’m close” he choked on a moan and plunged deep into you, your heat fluttering with its release at the feeling of his cum pressing against your cervix.
The room silenced of all sounds except your heavy breathing and Bucky’s lips nibbling and sucking on your neck, leaving the marks he promised he would.
“You know we can hear you right?” Sam mumbled from the earpiece but your lips were too busy on Bucky’s to care, you’d deal with it all later right now you had Bucky and that’s all that mattered.
-
It’s feral, it’s devious, it’s Bucky I can’t help myself.
237 notes · View notes
harrysmimi · 9 months
Text
Boo-Boo Away
Synopsis: One where Harry's left alone with two kinds under two as his wife rests on a sick day
Dadrry Fic
More of my work
Tumblr media
Harry loves his family.
Without help he was loosing his mind. All of his family is sick from flu. It really started from him, then his wife got sick one of the the kid is breastfeeding.
Bea, the twenty month old and Maeve the two month old were grumpy and moody since last night. Both the parents stayed up to tend to their kids. But YN got even more sick this morning, and she was advised to take rest by her doctor.
Been given birth just two months ago via C-section has already taken a huge toll on her. So, Harry took it upon himself to make YN take a nap and the littlest was all fed and bundled up and fast asleep as well.
Maeve was being difficult to put to sleep, it took him all of a hour and half just rocking her to sleep but it was worth it the moment she fell asleep and he put her next to her Mumma on her bed. She seems to be a little too young to be sick but she's doing the best out of three of the ladies.
Bea could walk, sprint even, so she followed her dad around the house with her blankie dragging behind her as he did the chores. He'd warned the little girl that she could trip and fall with her blankie dragging behind her.
"Princess you will trip like that." He tried to have her hold her blankie in a way she wouldn't fall, bundled up in her arm. But she threw a tantrum. She was adamant to drag it around with her. "Okay, okay, you can have it as your wish." He surrendered.
He placed all of Maeve's clean laundry in the basket as he ran another batch of both the girls clothes. He took the basket out To the kids' room. None of them slept in there, they both liked to sleep in their parents bed. Maeve especially, she is already bonded with her Mummy where as Bea always wants Papa with her.
"Papa." Bea called for him, showing him a toy she's been obsessed with lately. It was a yellow Lego building block. She showed him asking him to go play with her with the building blocks.
"That's so cool, baby." Harry engaged in little conversations with her. She went back out to the living room. "You're still obsessed with that one?"
"Mhmm." She nodded.
Both YN and Harry have been used to help by their Doula, who helped them both everything as YN healed from giving birth and the parents focused on bonding with their new baby. It was the same when Bea was born. But now that they're both on their own, the chores have become more challenging.
Especially for Harry today. He had to place each of his steps carefully, not wanting to kick his toddler like a football on accident.
As Harry placed the basket of clean laundry in the kids' room he walked out to a living room scattered with toys. They weren't just just limited to the play area but everywhere in the living room.
Harry wanted to cry.
But he left it at that, he doesn't want Bea to cry, and wake up her Mummy and little sister by that. He'd let be on her own until he's done with the dishes.
The little green eyed girl walked upto him again to show him a scribbly drawing of hers. Harry gave her some encouraging words as she walked back out.
She was still dragging that blankie around the house.
It wasn't until he heard a thud and a loud cry that sent him running outside. Bea had fallen down the two little steps which separated their kitchen and living room. She never missed those, it was definitely that dang blankie. Her cried were loud enough to have her sleepy Mummy get out to see her.
"What happened?" YN came running out too, her tired eyes just daring to shut closed again.
"Hey baby," Harry cooed as both the parents gathered around the toddler. "Did you get hurt?"
"Yes." She nodded as she cried, "here." She pointed at her knee which was obviously red.
"Can you move you leg for me?" YN asked and the girl did, "good baby. And again?"
"Hurt." She sniffled. "Hurt."
"I know baby, but we have to move your leg a little so it won't hurt as much." Harry assured her and made her bend her knee a couple of time carefully but apparently it still hurt.
"Boo-Boo away." She leaned onto her Mummy who was closer to her as her dad inspected her knee, "Boo-Boo away!"
"It's alright, see," Harry placed a delicate kiss on her joint and looked at his wife. "Kiss Boo-Boo away, Mummy." And her mummy did too.
"Why don't we go take a nap? With May-may too." YN suggested, "your Boo-Boo will go away after."
She usually just moves on, but given the toddler is sick her tiny body must already be aching already to add to her injury. Harry picked her up like a little doll she is and walked them to the master bedroom.
It was also when Maeve started to wake up all fussy too. It was hour past her feeding time, Harry didn't even realise that. But YN picked her up immediately and brought her to the bed. She lied down the baby as it was the most comfortable position to feed her. Harry placed Bea on the other side.
"May-may no!" Bea cooed as she gently stroked her sister's head. "Mumma, May-may hurt?"
"No, baby she's just hungry." YN explained, "why don't you just lay down, hmm? Cuddle with May-may and Mummy."
Bea lied down on her dad's side of the bed immediately. Making him jealous just as fast. He could use a nap too, he's been up all night and hasn't slept for even a blink. Since yesterday morning.
"Hey, you wanna join us?" YN asked as he was making his way around their bed to go out and finish up all the chores.
"I've got dishes to wash," he shared.
"We can do that later, take a nap with us." YN pressed so he can take some rest too. And he's just recovered from a flu. "Come on!"
"Okay, okay." He walked back to his side and lied on his side.
It was bit crowded with two babies, but it's cosy. Maeve sleeps in the cot kept in her parents room because she's just too small to be on her own. And her older sister likes to sleep right in between her parents on their bed. It is warm and cosy and safe feeling. But when she's in mood she'll demand to sleep in the nursery, in her own bed. And there also another crib in the parents room where Harry would eventually move Bea too. Especially when she's kicking her dad in stomach and face there.
Bea scooted closer to her dad, using his bicep as her pillow she buried herself in his chest for cuddles. It was quiet. Bea asleep and Maeve still having her milk.
The littlest one was drifting in and out of her sleep there, it was so adorable as she smiled and tiniest dimples popped up on her chubby and fluffy cheeks. And she go right to sucking onto her mum's boob until she was breathless. A hungry, hungry little human she is.
"She's running a marathon." Harry whispered and chuckled softly. He doesn't want Bea to wake up. He moved her to the crib carefully.
Only so her fever doesn't go up with her warming up too much. And they can't turn up the AC too much as all of the girls have cold too. He picked up the baby when she was done eating too, and burped her before she was back in her cot too. He sighed seeing how peaceful both of their babies were sleeping. Finally getting the rest they need.
"Now come here, will you?" Now his wife was demanding his attention. And he obliged. He pulled in closer to his chest there.
"You know I love our babies, but I miss our time alone." He shared.
"Awh!" YN cooed, "we can have alone time after they've recovered from flu."
"Mhmm." He sounded tiredly, "hate to see them that way. Bea has been to grumpy since last night."
"Give her a break, she's still a baby." YN chuckled.
"I know, I know." He nodded, "I'm just jealous they get all your time now."
"They get all your time too!"
"Well..." He laughed, "touché."
"Yeah!" YN got all defensive.
"Once you're all recovered, we're gonna it a good few days, the kiddos can go live with my mum for the weekend and we can go to our villa." He layed a rough plan knowing well it could go wrong anyday, anytime.
"You know both of them haven't been to our home in Italy yet?" YN reminded him.
"Need to get their passports sorted then we can take them there for Christmas, yeah?" He suggested, "till then you and I can have some us time there."
"Yeah we can." She smiled. "I love you."
"And I love you more." He placed a kiss on her forehead.
......................................................................
Tag list:
@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @sweetwritingfanficfriend @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts @marialikescherries @japanchrry @onlyangelrain @supersanelyromantic @haarrrys @originalsoulcollector @harrysgirl-1d @lomlhstyles @im-an-overthinker @moonys-star @blackbookwhore @tenaciousperfectionunknown @stilesissaved @allthelovehes @novalunosising @sunshinemoonsposts @harryssky1 @dear-mylove @sofia-faustina @stylesfever @reputationolivia
Lemme know if you want to added to the tag list
715 notes · View notes
missdictatorme · 3 months
Text
The Sweetest Fruit In The Garden - Part 2
Pairing: Miguel O'hara x Older!Fem!Reader
Genre: Comedy, Fluff, Smut with a bit of Angst
Summary: After college Miguel is quick to find a good paying job as an IT technician, he is also popular with the ladies and despite his sometimes grumpy behaviour, his friends are still tolerating him. Life is good. Then why doesn't he feel happy? While visiting his parents in the summer for a few weeks he may just find the only thing missing from his life.
Warnings: Cursing, Sexual Innuendos, Masturbation, Miguel is 24, Reader is 39.
Tumblr media
In the morning after you woke up and checked your phone, there was a notification that you had a new follower request on Instagram.
You cursed yourself when you felt a big grin spread across your lips as you realized it was Miguel and you accepted the request and followed him back.
Out of curiosity - and nothing else of course - you checked out his profile. He didn't have as many pictures and videos as other people his age did, but there were hundreds of likes on all of his posts and he had over 3000 followers.
There were some pictures of him hanging out with his friends, mostly in restaurants and in each others' cars, but there were quite a few pictures taken in bars and nightclubs too.
You looked at a few comments too and you guessed the guy named Peter Parker was his best friend, because he commented on everything. You noticed Miguel liked / replied to his friends' comments, but there were a lot of typical insta girls who sent him hearts and stuff but he didn't react to them.
"Me too, my fellow hoes." - you giggled in sympathy.
Suddenly an incoming message popped up on the screen.
miguel.ohara: Someone is up early.
Your grin widened even more if it was possible.
you: You know, old people can't sleep in the mornings, cause we take naps during the day. You on the other hand can sleep in, the kindergarten is closed on the weekends.
He reacted with the laughing emoji and you giggled.
miguel.ohara: What are you doing today?
You shook your head. This guy just can't take a no, can he?
you: Not you.
miguel.ohara: Sadly. We can still change that though.
you: I'm working actually. I have to finish editing a book, because yesterday someone decided to come home to his mom and I had to help prepare 🙄
miguel.ohara: Poor you. Was the guy hot at least?
you: I've seen worse.
You giggled when Miguel reacted with the smirking emoji.
miguel.ohara: You should give me your number, I hate texting.
you: You're such a boomer.
miguel.ohara: How the tables have turned.
you: If you want my number ask it from your mom. I can't wait to hear your excuse why you need it.
miguel.ohara: You're making me work for it hard, chica.
you: I'm not making you do shit, son.
Miguel sent the cry laughing face, and when you saw he wasn't typing you put your phone down and got up to do your morning routines.
After you finished in the bathroom and checked the time on your phone, you saw that you had a missed call.
You groaned thinking it was work related but it was from an unfamiliar number.
And there was a notification from Miguel again on Insta.
miguel.ohara: Pick it up, woman.
"Oh my god." - you stared at the screen shocked.
The phone started buzzing again and you picked it up.
"Hello?"
"So you saying that you have to work was an excuse or are you really working?" - Miguel asked casually.
"What the fuck? How did you get my number?"
"From mom."
"Why did she give it you?"
"Technically she didn't."
"Explain."
"I took her phone while she was making breakfast and I'm sure I told you I'm an IT technician."
"Okay, that's cheating."
"All is fair in love and war, chica."
"I'm hanging up."
"You're breaking my heart."
"What do you want?!"
"Are you really working?"
You sighed.
"Yeah, but I don't have to go in the office. I have the copy with me."
"Can I come over?"
"Miguel, for the love of god-!"
"Just to hang out! I actually got an e-mail that I have to help fix a bug in a program. That shit could take hours."
"You can do that in your room."
"Have you met my mom and dad? She cooks while blaring music, and he mows the lawn for two hours straight."
"You wanted to come home."
"And now I want to get the fuck out of here."
You suddenly laughed out loudly and Miguel's ears perked up as a huge grin appeared on his face.
"Bring breakfast."
Miguel fisted the air in victory.
"Yes, ma'am. What do you wa-?"
He frowned when you hung up, but then smirked again.
"Fucking tease."
-----
About half an hour later there was a knock on the door. Miguel's eyes widened when you opened the door but then he smiled.
"Still in your pj's? Sexy."
You looked down at yourself.
You were wearing an oversized pair of baby blue pj shorts that reached your mid thighs and a matching thin strapped top, but you were wearing a thin, light pink robe over them, untied. Your hair was still a mess from the sleep but you tried to tame it, and you weren't wearing any make up. You really tried to un-impress him.
"I just suspected it so far, but now I know that something is wrong with you."
He grinned more.
"I brought breakfast." - he said holding it up.
"And your laptop bag! So you are really here to work and not to smash."
"I mean, we still ca-"
You started closing the door with an eyeroll.
"Just joking, just joking! Dios Mio, you're so sensitive." - he grumbled as he walked in when you opened the door again.
"I'm sensitive to idiots."
"I tell my mom you called me names."
"I tell your mom you tried to fuck me."
Miguel smirked as he followed you into the kitchen, and he looked around to take in your home.
"You have a nice place."
"Thank you."
Miguel put his laptop bag on one of the chairs and put the bag that contained the breakfast on the table. You opened it and leaned above it.
"No coffee?"
Miguel pulled out a chair, sat down, and looked at you with an annoyed and condescending expression.
"Do I have to do everything around here?"
Your jaw dropped a little, then you eyed him up and down. Damn, you hated his tight shirts. He was wearing a white V-neck one now and it did things to you. The black shorts showed you just how muscled his legs were too.
"The nerve of you." - you mumbled as you turned around to fill the coffee machine, but Miguel saw the smile you tried to hide before you faced away from him fully.
"You know what my mom used to do when I misbehaved?"
"What?"
"She spanked me."
Loud laughter blew up from your chest and Miguel chuckled too.
"You would just enjoy it, you freak."
"Only one way to find out." - he said as he let his eyes roam over your form. Maybe the robe that you were wearing was cute, but he hated it in that moment.
You shook your head as you started the coffee maker, then you pulled two mugs and two plates out of the cupboard and put them on the table while you smiled at him.
He winked at you with a smirk and started emptying the bag.
"How did you know I like this?" - you asked him as you sat down across him and watched him put your favourite pastry on your plate.
"I asked mom."
You lifted your eyebrows.
"Like asked asked? Hey mamí, what's your bestie's fave thing to eat in the morning? And she just told you?"
Miguel chuckled at you trying to mimick his voice.
"First of all: that was terrible. Secondly: I operate smoother than that."
"Oh, of course you do, Casanova." - you teased him, taking a bite.
Miguel shook his head with a grin. He never had this much fun with a woman, ever. Sure he flirted with them, and there were playful teasing with others too, but with you he felt like he had known you for years. He didn't even feel this laid back and casual with any of his exes either.
Other women always tried to impress him, and get his attention. Sometimes they tried to hide that fact that they were doing it on purpose. Those were the worst. But you are the opposite. Sure, you are flirting with him too, but you also always shut down his advances. You told him you find him attractive, but also draw the line, saying nothing can happen between you.
He doesn't know why it drives him crazy. He also never put this much effort into trying to spend time with a girl. Especially if it was just to hang out without any sexual activity.
"I just asked her where she likes to eat, knowing she will mention you, since you are best friends. But then she started her neverending monologue about all the places she ever visited in the city."
You giggled.
"Yeah, that's her."
"Then I asked her what's her favourite place to go in the morning and she started rambling about this bakery and what her, Tyler and you like to eat there." - he gestured to the table.
You smiled, then licked your lips and looked down at your plate to continue eating. Miguel started eating too.
This was the first time Miguel felt like the silence start to get uncomfortable between you two. But while with other girls it annoyed him, he didn't let it ruin his mood this time.
"How did you and mom meet?"
Warmth spread across his chest when a fond smile appeared on your face and you started telling him the story.
The rest of the breakfast was spent with more laughing, teasing and flirting and after you were both finished, you settled on one side of the couch, while Miguel sat on the other end and you pulled the book your were editing in your lap, while Miguel opened his laptop.
You leaned over to get your reading glasses too and put them on. After a few seconds of silence you heard Miguel snort.
"You have reading glasses? Jeez, you really are old."
You huffed and was about to tell him off, but then your eyes widened when you looked at him.
Miguel smirked as he readjusted his own reading glasses then started typing on his laptop.
"You little shit." - you laughed.
Miguel chuckled too and after a few seconds he looked over at you again.
Your brows were furrowed a bit in concentration, but you had a soft smile on your lips. Miguel bit his own, wondering if it was because of what you were reading or because you enjoyed his presence. He really hoped it was the latter, but he realized it didn't really matter, because the most important thing was that he was lucky enough to witness it.
You had a sharp pencil in your hand and you were running it along the lines as you were reading, holding it just a bit above the page. He watched as you sometimes scribbled something down, correcting a grammarical mistake, or making signs to switch paragrhaps he guessed. He tilted his head in awe as in a matter of a few seconds you finished reviewing a full page and moved to the next one.
"You're reading very fast."
You hummed in agreement.
"And this is why it takes hours for geeks to find bugs? Cause they are busy staring at women in the meantime?"
You started chukling when Miguel laughed loudly. You felt your cheeks heat up when you realized just how much you liked that sound.
"Only if the woman is really beautiful."
"Shut up and work."
"We find spots much faster though."
You narrowed your eyes.
"If this turns into a g-spot joke I swear I'm gonna stab you with this pencil."
"Whoa, calm down John Wick."
You chuckled.
"You like it?"
"The idea of you stabbing me?"
"The movie."
"Which guy doesn't like John Wick?"
"Would it bother you if I put it on? As a background noise?"
"Go for it. But we won't get any work done that way, though."
"You just focus on your work and I focus on mine."
Miguel smirked, knowing it won't be that easy.
"Okay."
About five minutes into the movie you both sat closer to each other, with your book and his laptop abandoned, while you watched and analyzed the film.
------
"I hate you."
"It was your idea to watch the movie!"
"My idea was to put it on as background noise!"
"It's John Wick, you can't just ignore it!"
You leaned back on the couch while the end credits of the fourth movie rolled on the TV screen.
You. Watched. All. Four of them.
"Fuck." - you sighed as you looked at the book you were supposed to edit, then at the coffee table where the boxes of the take out food you ordered somewhere halfway the marathon were still laying around.
"We're like those kids in school who get seperated cause they don't get any work done."
"Truly."
"It was fun, though."
Miguel saw as a small smile appear on your face.
"Yeah." - then you looked at him serious. - "Now get out of my home."
"No. I have to finish this." - he replied in a stubborn voice and he pulled his laptop on his thighs.
One of his legs were touching yours.
You sighed again.
"If I hear one noise..."
Miguel made a motion like pulling a zipper over his lips.
"Good boy."
He leaned his head back and moaned.
You glared at him.
"Don't fucking test me." - he said in a serious tone.
Maybe men who were younger than you never really captured your attention, but Miguel was clearly an exception. He was attractive, witty and smart and matched your energy perfectly. And the way he was looking at you now made your insides melt. His eyes were stern and it was almost scary, but you knew he was like this because he was trying to hold himself back. It was sexy. And it turned you on.
It was barely noticeable, but Miguel saw as you squirmed. When his eyes dropped down to your lap, you quickly averted your eyes, pulled the book in your lap, grabbed your pencil, put your glasses on and started reading.
You felt him move and you almost whined when he put a strong arm around your shoulder. He squeezed your arm and pulled you to his side, then kissed your hair and turned back to his laptop to continue typing with one hand.
You squirmed again then turned a little so your back was to his side and chest and you put your feet up on the couch and continued to work like that, half laying on him. This way Miguel's forearm was across your collarbone and he squeezed you again with a chuckle.
Turns out you were much more productive when your bodies rested against each other, then when you tried to feel closer to the other by trying to get their attention.
-----
"Feeling comfortable?" - he teased after about two hours.
"I hate to admit it, but yes."
Miguel smiled and rubbed the skin of your shoulder with his fingertips.
Maybe you rolled your shoulder a few times innocently in the past hour to make your robe slip off of it.
Maybe Miguel moved his hand just a bit closer to the opening of it to slip his hand under the material.
When he felt you move to sit up, the muscles in his arm flexed as he held you back.
"Where are you going?"
You grabbed his forearm to remove it from around you and he let you, while frowning in displeasure.
You got up and started walking towards your room.
"I have to do the laundry, boss."
Miguel grunted and closed his laptop. To be honest, he finished work half an hour ago, but he kept looking through programs and files so you could keep resting against him while you finished yours.
When you finsihed loading the washing machine and started it, you turned around and tilted your head when you saw that Miguel was leaning against the doorframe watching you.
"Can I help you?"
"Sí. Come back to the couch."
You crossed your arms over your chest, and Miguel saw that the usual playful or teasing glint in your eyes were replaced with something more serious.
"Did you finish your work?"
"Yeah."
You nodded.
"Good. You can go home now then."
Miguel frowned.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. You wanted to come over to be able to work in a calm enviroment. The work is finished. So you can go."
"You and I both know that wasn't the only reason why I came over."
"You and I both know that should be the only reason why you're here."
"I like hanging out with you."
"I like hanging out with you too. And I like hanging out with your mom too. And I want to be able to keep doing that."
Miguel looked to the side and bit the inside of his cheek.
"Look. You find me attractive, I get it. But it's just a sudden flame or whatever. It will pass. Just... Keep focusing on someone else. Or something else. I don't know." - you shrugged.
Miguel huffed out a humorless laugh and shook his head a little before he looked at you again.
"Do you really think that? That I'm putting this much effort into trying to be with you, because I have a silly crush?"
"You only met me yesterday. Of course it's just a silly crush, Miguel."
"Why do you flirt back?"
"Because flirting is fun."
"Are you flirting with others like this too?"
"Of course."
Miguel's eyes narrowed a little.
"Are you seeing someone?"
You let out a little surprised laugh.
"Not that it's any of your business, but no."
"Come on a date with me."
You looked at him increduolusly.
"No."
"Say yes. Let's find out if it's really just a silly little crush."
"No."
A small smile pulled on Miguel's lips as he pushed himself off the doorframe and slowly started to walk towards you.
You gulped as your whole body stiffened.
"Why are you so afraid?"
"I'm not afraid." - you said in a very unconvincing voice, but tried to keep his gaze challengingly.
Miguel stopped after he closed the distance between you, but slowly he started leaning over you, and you leaned back, feeling as your ass bumped into the washing machine. You watched nervously as he put his hands on either sides of you to lean against the machine.
"You're almost shaking."
"You're making me nervous."
"Nervous or turned on?"
You narrowed your eyes at him.
"Why are you doing this?"
"I like being close to you." - he said as his eyes dropped to your lips, then to your neck and to your cleavage.
With your arms crossed over your chest he had a very nice view.
Shit, he was so fucking tall. And wide. And he smelled good. Fuck.
"Creep."
Miguel chuckled and he slowly lifted one of his hands to cup your jaw and tilt your head upwards.
Before he could touch you, you closed your eyes tightly.
"Please don't touch me."
Miguel froze and his brows furrowed.
You lifted one of your hands, with your forefinger and thumb almost touching, with your eyes still closed.
"I am this close to climb my best friend's son like a fucking tree and it freaks me out."
Miguel tilted his head back as a deep, rich laugh rumbled through his chest.
"That's so not funny." - you said lamely.
"It is, hermosa." - he leaned down until his lips were almost touching your ear. - "I can't wait for you to break."
He grinned when you let out a whimper and he took a step back. His grin widened when you finally opened your eyes and glared at him.
"I never did it on a washing machine." - he said as he sized you up and the thing behind you.
You sighed frustrated. He is a fucking tease.
"It's actually not that good." - you shrugged.
His eyes widened.
"You-?"
You nodded.
"On this very same one." - you patted it like a dog's head then with a smug grin, satisfied that you could make him flustered too, you rounded him and walked out of the bathroom.
After a few seconds you heard him follow you into the livingroom where you started cleaning up the coffee table.
"Mierda, carino, you're a dirty one, huh?" - he asked as he started helping you.
"Excuse yooouuuu, I'm a lady."
"Mhm, I bet you like being bit."
"And what makes you think that?"
"I saw you eyed these a few times."
You turned to him with a frown and you almost choked when you saw him lick one of his canine teeth teasingly.
Of course you did. They were a little bit longer than supposed to and it almost made him look like a vampire. Or a werewolf, when he grins like this. A sexy one.
"You could chomp out a piece of me with those things." - you mumbled as you walked to the kitchen.
"We should find out, carino."
"You should go home."
"Aww, getting turned on?"
"Getting grumpy."
"You're cute, when you're grumpy."
"You're cute when you shut up."
Miguel put his hand over his heart after he threw out the boxes.
"You wound me."
"Good." - you told him as you put the forks in the sink then looked at him with a smug expression.
"Can I see you tomorrow?"
"No."
He frowned.
"I'm busy."
He narrowed his eyes.
"My sister invited me over, I'm gonna spend the whole day there."
"Monday?"
"I'm working."
"After work."
"I'm doing after hours."
"Bullshit."
"Dude, I'm a fucking editor." - you told him like it was the most obvious thing that your work consumes so much of your time. - "We have meetings on Mondays and Thursdays, it usually lasts for fucking hours." - you added annoyed.
"When can I see you?"
"In your dreams, Prince Charming."
He folded his arms across his chest, looking displeased.
"Aww, mommy's boy is gonna throw a fitty."
"I'm about to." - he rolled his eyes and he turned around to go to the livingroom.
He put his laptop in his bag, then he walked to your door.
"Today was fun." - he said.
You smiled.
"Yeah."
Miguel's stern expression turned softer too and he leaned down and opened his arms.
You got on your tip toes and hugged him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
You yelped when he suddenly lifted you up with ease.
"Just demonstrating what this body can do to yours." - he said smugly then kissed the side of your head, put you down and walked out of your door.
When he rounded the stairs he winked up at you then when he was out of your sight he smirked to himself.
"Show off!" - you said after him, and shook your head with a fond smile when you heard his laughter.
-----
You woke up the next morning softly panting and covered in sweat. Ugh. The Miguel in your dreams was very focused on demonstrating what his body can do to yours, alright.
Time for a shower.
And for some self love session.
During the day with your sister and her family you snapped some pictures and posted them all on Instagram along with a story. Later when you were watching a Disney movie with the kids, you checked your phone and you saw that Miguel liked all of them.
Remembering the spicy dream you had, you went to check out his profile again. It was obvious that he was working out, and you wondered if he had any pictures where he was in the gym.
You smiled when you found one where his friend is posing for the mirror in a white tank top and Miguel is standing next to him while holding some weights, his muscles tensing from the workout. You licked your lips as you kept looking at his arms, seeing the muscles flex and his veins popping out, but it annoyed you that he was wearing a black tank top. You just wanted one small peek at his body, is that so bad?
Your thumb hovered above the small heart below the pic, but you didn't tap it. That would definitely send signs you didn't want to give him. Also he already knew you liked him, and he openly stated that he liked you too. It should be enough to calm you down. Why are you getting giddy whenever you see him or when he sends you a message? He makes you feel like a fucking teen. It was annoying.
Suddenly a hand appeared from behind you and it tapped the heart below the picture.
"What the-?"
You looked at the pic and saw the heart was red.
"Who is that hottie?!" - your sister whisper shouted to not bother the kids.
"Why the f did you do that?!"
"Cause he's hot, goddamn!"
"He's Conchata's son!"
Her eyes widened and she pulled the phone out of your hands to take a closer look with a shocked face.
"No way!"
She started going through the pics and videos.
"Oh my god, he's a greek god!"
"Jesus, calm down." - you rolled your eyes but moved closer to her when she sat on the couch so you can check out his profile together.
"Fuck, he's big."
You felt your cheeks grow hot as a smile pulled on your lips.
"Yeah."
Suddenly a notification popped up on the screen.
"He messaged you?!"
"Okay give the phone back." - you reached for it.
"No!" - she pulled the phone away a little and opened the message.
miguel.ohara: Are you still at your sister's?
Your eyes widened when you saw her start typing a reply.
"Shit, you guys are talking?" - she asked excited when she noticed that there were previous messages.
"I'm fucking serious, don't reply him!"
you: Yeah, she is still here and instead of watching the movie with her nieces she was drooling on her phone while checking out a very hot individual.
"You bitch!"
When you smacked her shoulder she stood up and sprinted out of the livingroom and into the kitchen with you hot on her heels.
"I'm so sorry that your kids have to grow up without a mother!"
"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!! He's video calling!"
You froze. This keeps getting worse.
"Hi!" - your sister answered cheerfully.
Miguel was frowning at the screen, but then he lifted an eyebrow when he saw you behind your sister.
"Hello. Can I ask why you have her phone?"
"Oh, as I told you she was busy checking you out on every picture you have on your profile and I wanted to see who picked her interest finally after such a long time." - she grinned, and you facepalmed yourself behind her. Loudly.
Miguel grinned big.
"Oh, really?"
"I don't know this person." - you told him while you pointed at her.
"Clearly. It's an accident you look similar, huh?" - Miguel teased.
"She denies it every time someone points that out." - your sister giggled.
"That's because I don't look like you."
"What are you guys doing?"
"We're busy traumatizing her kids by making them watch The Lion King."
Miguel grimaced.
"Ajjj."
"Hey, we had to go through that when we were 10 and 8. They're 7 and 5 now. I don't raise no weak ass kids."
"That movie made me a different person when I was 6." - Miguel said.
You both chuckled and you looked into the livingroom.
"Uh-oh, Mufasa is about to get unalived."
"Ah shit, I bring the ice cream. It was nice meeting you Miguel!" - your sister grinned and waved at him.
"Likewise..."
She introduced herself to him with a giggle then gave the phone to you.
You sighed then glared at Miguel.
"Why did you call?"
"Because of the message you... she sent."
"I was cheking out someone else."
"Yeah, the notification of the like you dropped on my pic told me."
"She liked that by the way."
"You still were checking out my profile by the way."
"I'm gonna hung up."
"When do you get back?"
"Why do you care?"
"I could drop by."
"I could do meth. Doesn't mean I should."
"You really shouldn't."
You made a face, like you wanted to make him get the point. You were sure he did, but chose to ignore it.
"Why are you doing this? I like you, you like me. We just go on one date. Maybe it's gonna be a disaster and mi mamí won't even know about it, because it's gonna be so terrible we don't wanna bring that up, ever again."
"Wow, sounds like a dream."
Miguel chuckled, shaking his head.
"Is your sister still there?"
"No, she's with the kids now."
"Maybe the date is gonna be so good I'll make you soak the sheets."
Your eyes widened and you almost choked on your own drool.
"Miguel-!!!"
"Don't tell me you're not thinking about it."
"I'm not thinking about it!"
"You do. Just like I do. Every fucking second."
You could see the passion in his eyes even through the camera. His gaze was so intense you felt like he could see right into your soul. That he could see your deepest desires. Your deepest secret. That you wanted your best friend's son. Carnally.
You cleared your throat.
"You really need a girl." - you said, trying to sound annoyed.
"No shit. It's you."
"Please, Miguel? Not me. Anyone but me." - you almost sounded pleading.
"Nuh-uh. If you can be stubborn, I can be too. But keep begging, I like how that sounds."
You glared at him. He raised a challenging brow at you.
"Please... If you were in my bed, I wouldn't be the one begging."
"Oh, really?"
"Really."
"Prove it, mamí."
You were ready to fire back at whatever reply he will give you, but you froze when you heard the last word.
And Miguel noticed it.
Slowly a smirk appeared on his face.
"You'd like that wouldn't you? Punishing me when I misbehave? Hmm, mamí?"
Fuck, why did he make his voice sound lower?
"Stop it, big boy. You wouldn't be able to handle me."
"I sure as fuck would love to try, baby." - Miguel moaned and you noticed that one of his shoulders flexed.
Was he... Was he...???!!!
"Miguel?! What are you doing?"
"Nothing. Keep talking."
"Fuck, you need help."
"Sí. That's why you shoud keep talking."
"I'm hanging up."
"You're a cruel woman."
"By Miguel."
"Send me a pic of yourself in your work outfit tomorrow. And you should add more pictures to your Instagram. Like ones with you in a bikini."
"If you wouldn't be this annoying I would've sent you nudes already."
Miguel's eyes widened.
"What?!"
"Bye, baby." - you sent him a kiss with a wink then ended the call.
"Mierda... fuck..." - Miguel cursed as he pulled his cock out of his boxers and started stroking himself.
Until now he was only caressing himself through his shorts, but now he was rock hard. And leaking.
He never wanted someone this bad. Fuck, how can you have this effect on him? It's not like he doesn't have girls throwing themselves at him.
Was it because you are doing the opposite? Trying to get away from him? Maybe that was it. Maybe if he had you he could get you out of his head.
But this cat and mouse game also turns him on. Part of him doesn't want it to end, he likes the way his heart starts beating faster whenever he sees you or hears your voice. He likes the thrill he feels whenever you open that pretty mouth and say something witty to him. He likes to annoy you, to piss you off. He loves the way your eyes get all fiery and loves to make you snap.
Fuck, he would give everything to make you so mad that you lose control. He just knows sex with you would be hot and passionate, and aggressive.
It drives him mad that every surface of any place makes him picture himself buried balls deep in you on it.
"Shit..." - he panted as he jerked himself faster.
Or would you go so cock dumb that you'd beg for more, not caring about the consequences?
Would you still fight him if he was inside you? Would you spread your legs to try to make him get deeper while you beg him to stop fucking you because of your silly little morals?
Miguel felt himself getting close to the edge, as he pictured your face. He has a feeling deep inside that you'd want him to give it to you rough. He wouldn't mind giving it to you slow and deep either, but he just knows you'd want him to split you in half with his cock.
Suddenly, he remembers your sister's words.
"I wanted to see who picked her interest finally after such a long time."
Does that mean it was a long time ago since you had sex? Shit, he bets you'd be drowning his cock with your juices. But it's a shame, really, such a hot little thing like you should be fucked properly, everyday.
Miguel's brows furrowed more as he squeezed his cock harder and he could practically hear your screams and begs, telling him not to stop.
Will you let him finish inside?
He licked his lips.
Of course you would. You'd be too greedy not to.
And he would love nothing more than to breed that little pus-
"Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" - he growled lowly as he suddenly came all over his hand, stomach and thighs.
Fuck, that was... okay, that was a hot thought.
Jesus, he never came so hard while jerking off. And he always had a big load, but where the fuck all of this came from?
He grabbed a tissue and started wiping himself off while panting heavily.
Yeah, no, he's gonna need a shower.
184 notes · View notes
venmondiese · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
New Year's Traditions.
In New Year, you have your traditions in order to assure a good year. You eat 12 grapes, and then watch the fireworks with your loved ones. Aemond might start his own traditions, in his own way.
✧Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader ✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, AFAB reader, P in V, exhibisionsm, praising kink, slight breeding kink, soft sex. ✧Word Count: 4008 ✧Author's note: hehe my first tumblr fanfic post lol, I KNOW that new year passed, but this idea came to me at 2 am after seeing the fireworks. enjoy!! ✧AO3 link: here
Aemond and you have shared many moments together. Birthdays, anniversaries, and one of your favourites was new year
It was a silly reason, to celebrate another day marked as the beginning of a new year, yet you liked how it meant a simple thing; starting a new year of your life with Aemond. And you liked that.
As Aemond hated going to his family’s mansion for these holidays, you remained in your apartment, cosy as ever and only you two. You, Aemond and Vhagar, is an old grumpy lady cat, that he adored more than everything, more than even you, you suspect sometimes. 
And you didn’t even do such a produced food this year, you ate some pretty good lasagna, with a second dish with shrimps and salad. It was nice, and it certainly was more like a fancy dinner between you two. Aemond loved to spoil you in any way he could, so every whim or idea you could have, he would make it reality. 
“Eating grapes is so stupid” Aemond says, as you pick out the grapes to leave it on a grape carefully.
“Stupid or not, I like grapes”  You state leaving the plate on the table in front of the TV. “And you are gonna eat them as well” 
“I am not” Aemond states, crossing his arms as he smirks. He was so amused by seeing you like this, worried about stupid little traditions that made no sense.
“Yes, you are. You have to eat one each time that stupid clock that you bought chimes” you say pointing at the stupid clock that he brought one day, out of nowhere, saying it was a relic from old Valyria, with little dragons details on the wood, a stupid grandfather’s clock that stood at the side of the couch, that chimes in each hour. 
At first, at night it kept you awake, and the sound was so deep, you jumped each time. So did Vhagar, annoyed by being awakened. Even at sex, when Aemond was so deep, readjusting your guts in the best of ways, his cock hitting so wonderfully inside you, and his sweet praises whispered in your ear… and the stupid clock chimes. You hated it.
“If you miss it, and do not get to eat all twelve on time, you’d have a year of bad luck” You state, wrinkling your nose teasingly. “And you can make a wish for each month”
“If it makes you happy…” He sighs, sitting on the couch, where Vhagar jumps quickly on his lap to lay there, always before you could cuddle up to him. She did it on purpose, and Aemond allowed his two girls, as he called you both, to fight over him and his attention and affections. 
“Come on, I always have done it. It is a tradition.” You say with a thoughtful nod, as you sit beside him. “And see where it ended… I am your girlfriend, and we have been together for two years now… You don’t want this one to be the last?” You ask dramatically, and he rolls his eyes as he leans his head back, but he chuckles amused.
“I have until midnight to think” He mumbles amused, moving his hand to caress your thigh sweetly. 
He has chosen the dress. He didn’t believe in the new year being something special, but if it was an opportunity to make you dress nicely, he’d take it in a heartbeat. He had his own taste when it came to your clothes, Aemond liked seeing you in special, tight dresses that made you stand out wherever you went. To brag that you were his, and he always took the time to braid your hair in the style of his ancestors, and he was meticulous about it. 
“Then you have until midnight to leave the apartment” You say in your best teasing tone, smiling smugly to him and his lips almost make a little pout.
“Don’t be like that” He says rubbing your thigh as he moves his head closer to you, still leaning on the back of the couch “At least you could grant me a goodbye sex?” He tries to plead using his best puppy eyes for teasing.
“Absolutely no” You state laughing at your little back and forth. 
Aemond was often perceived as quiet and a bit cold, at least you did the first time you met him. Little words came naturally from him, his answers were brief words and that was it. But he grew warmer as you two grew together, and he enjoyed teasing a bit too much, it amused him to no end. He just loved your reactions, and how you fought back, it was all worth it. 
He loved how you had a enmity with Vhagar, seeing who could get more affection from him, and who would he choose, sometimes he chose the cat on purpose just to get a raise out of you. He’d laugh every time, and make it up to you by eating you out like he was a starved man.
“I’ll eat the damn grapes” He mumbles smirking. “I feel like Persephone being forced to eat the pomegranate..”
“I am no Hades” You say mumbling.
“Mhm. I suppose if I eat only six of them I could live freely in the spring and summer without you?” He teases, totally amused.
“Careful. Too many jokes of leaving can break a girl’s heart” 
“I’d never break your heart” He mumbles going to hiss your chin and then your lips, almost too lazily for him. He does it gently, showing him the little pecks of his affection in your chin and lips. Aemond looks at you tenderly, as he speaks softly. You can hear the sound of the programmated count back for new year on the tv, but you look at him kissing you. “I’ll eat the grapes for you”
“Like Adam ate the apple for Eve?” You inquire, amused.
“Yes. I’ll follow you out of Eden once they expel us” He murmurs smiling, still his face close to yours, you could feel his soft breath, calm and it smells like the wine you two tasted earlier. His hand returns to rub your thigh softly, as he looks at your face as if wanting to remember each part of it, his eye moving to your tender eyes to your lips, and he has a little smile curling on his lips, involuntary, you can notice. 
“I’ll fetch the champagne” You murmur, breaking his gaze, standing up and walking to the kitchen. He hums, and sits back correctly. 
Once you are back, with two glasses and the bottle, he is caressing Vhagar’s back and moving his hand to pat slightly her bottom, which she appreciates a lot. 
“Stop spanking that ugly cat” You grumble leaving the two cups on the table in front of him.
“Jealous?” 
“No” You say looking at the hour. 23:57. Close enough. “Are you sure that we could see the fireworks through the balcony?”
“Yes. Mother said the apartment had a nice view to the Blackwater bay just nicely. We’ll watch all the fireworks from the safety and comfort of our balcony.” 
You hum, nodding a bit. “I love fireworks” You say excitedly, and Vhagar meow. “Vhagar likes them too”
“Vhagar can barely see” Aemond says in a laugh, “I’d be surprised if actually makes it to the balcony”
“You are being mean” You giggle caressing Vhagar’s furr, which she appreciates but gives you a stern look. 
“Give me a kiss before the year ends” Aemond urges looking at the clock, 23:58.
“I thought you didn’t believed in-” 
“Shut up and kiss me” He repeats, and before you respond, he leans to kiss you, moving you closer to him. Vhagar grumbles and gets off his lap, but Aemond doesn’t even notice. 
He kisses you deeply, moving his lips against your just for a bit, just enjoying the simpleness of a kiss. He doesn’t press it further, and his lips are tender against yours, soft and gentle, when he wants. His hand presses on your chin, and he swallows the slow hum that you give him. He smiles in the kiss, knowing that it couldn’t take all minutes, even if he wanted. Because you had your silly traditions, and if they made you happy…
“See? With one minute left” He says smugly. 
“How considerate is my boyfriend” You say standing up to extend him his bowl of grapes. “One each-”
“Yes” He says, groaning as he stands up. He smiles as he sees you so excited for this silly thing, eating grapes for a new year. He looks at his bowl and he has an amused smile, the things he does for love… 
As the new year strikes, the awful clock sounds for a bit, and he leans to steal a kiss from you. “Happy new year” He mumbles. 
“Happy new year” You murmur as you kiss.
After the chimes. He does as requested, just for you. He eats the grapes as the clock strikes twelve times at midnight. He has to laugh at your commitment, as the sound of people in other apartments can be heard, and you look at him smiling as you eat the twelve grapes. He does it for you, no doubt in it, just to see you smile as he eats the grapes. What he wouldn’t do for you, after all?
“See?” You say now, grapes finished just in time, and he rolls his eyes amused as he grabs Vhagar from the ground to caress her chin. You go to hug him, and mumble “Happy new year”
Vhagar meows, and Aemond laughs “See? She says happy new year too” 
“That is so silly” You say with a giggle, and you lean to kiss him sweetly, more properly this time, as you hug him. He has one hand on the small of your back, while the other still holds Vhagar. 
A little family of three, you always say, proud of being with him. He was always equally proud of you, always pampering you with love and gifts, no matter how tired he could be each day, he always came to be with you and be the doting boyfriend he always is.
“Now, shall we see the fireworks you were so eager for, hm?” He asks, smirking as your faces are close. “My sweet girl” He says softly, his adoring gaze looking at her.
You smile, and your cheeks blush a bit. He never manages to miss the chance to make you all flustered for him.
“Yeah, let’s go” You say, giving him a sweet peck on the lips, as he leaves Vhagar on the couch. 
You slide the door open for the balcony, and you can hear the loud cheers from people around, you have a nice view to Blackwater Bay, a bit far enough to see the fireworks from a nice view, and everything is already dark so the main focus was the fireworks.
Aemond lays on the balcony by your side, looking at the ground for a bit, and smirking. “I think they are about to start, do you have one of your silly traditions for fireworks too?”
“Oh, fuck off” You say pushing him a bit, and he laughs.
“It’s chilly” He comments a bit, and looks over at you in your dress “I’ll bring our jackets” He says going back to the apartment, and you remain there, looking at how the people in the streets were also expecting the pyrotechnic show. 
Aemond was right, it was a bit cold. But again, he likes to dress you up in pretty dresses. He often jokes how you are his ‘perfect doll’ and how he loves to show you off in the best makeup, dresses and hairstyles. He was just proud of it, that you allowed him to. 
“Aemond, it is starting!” You say loudly so he can hurry up, since he always takes too long for everything. 
The first fireworks start, the red explosion illuminates the darkness of the city, and you look in amazement, as a more yellow one follows. People cheer, also excited for the colours, and you hear Aemond closing the sliding door of the balcony.
“Here” He says, extending the jacket to you as he pushes Vhagar inside of the apartment. 
You thank him as you quickly put on the jacket, now looking at the purple ones exploding in a soft motion. 
“Don’t you think it is pretty?” You say to Aemond “The purple ones are better, but they don’t illuminate as good as the– Oh” 
Aemond passes his arms over your waist, hugging you from behind, and his chin is quickly pressed against your left shoulder as he snuggles into you.
“Very pretty” He murmurs.
“I mean the view” You say embarrassed. 
“Not as pretty as you” He adds smiling. 
He leans to kiss your lips, and you chuckle in his lips, as you hear more explosions from the fireworks go off, and you just know what comes next. Aemond wasn’t really subtle when he wanted you; when he wanted to devour you wholly, and now it wasn’t the exception. He did it on purpose, so you always know how much you entice him.
“Aemond, the fireworks..” You whine as he keeps insisting on kissing you. “It is only one time a year-”
“I know” He says, resigning and leaving you alone, as you leave a small kiss on his cheek as a thank you. 
The light blue explosions were quite nice, and combined with the purple ones did a pretty sight. Some minutes pass as you feel Aemond starting to kiss you neck again, slowly, but with more intention now, he wanted you and he was letting you know.
“Love-” You get interrupted by him.
“Watch your fireworks” He instructs you, moving his hands to your thighs, and he is quick to move them up as he speaks slowly to you. He moves his body a bit back, to watch yours as he does whatever he wants with you. “I’ll do my thing here…”
“We can surely do it once the show is over”
“I am afraid I cannot bear any longer. You eat grapes to celebrate a new turn in the sun, and I might start a new tradition for the new year.” He tells you, and moves your head to watch the fireworks. 
He moves his hands up, so your dress is all the way up, and accumulating in your waist, as he hums in delight. He moves your jacket to rest in your waist, anytime it could fall again. It was quick, but Aemond wanted you like he never did before.
“Anyone could see us” You say, the red firework exploding and you see the people in the street, below and so unaware of this. 
“Then let them see my pretty girl celebrating a new year” He murmurs, not caring about that. “Mmm… Red underwear. Is that another sweet tradition of yours? I think that one I might like” He teases kissing your shoulder as he pulls your underwear off. 
You feel aroused, from his sweet words and slightly more because of the embarrassment of this. Being fucked in your balcony, as the fireworks exploded in front of you, and the people around celebrated another year. As always, Aemond had to do everything in his own way, celebrating in his own way.
Hearing him undo his belt does it for you, the arousal makes your belly flutter, and you try to look back at him, but each time he pushes your head forward; watch the fireworks, it is his order.
Your hands grip a bit on the balcony railing, as you lean a bit forward, as if presenting you to him. His hands quickly go to your hips, and he leans closer to press a kiss on your neck, soft, wet kisses making their way to your jaw. 
“You are so divine like this, my sweet loving girl” He praises you slightly, his hands rubbing in circles on your hips for a few moments, you can feel his cock pressed on the curvature of your ass, and you whimper a bit impatient now. “So pretty, fuck, and all mine”
The mere thought of that drives him insane. His hand moves upfront, and he quickly finds his way to your pussy, aching and longing for him. You moan impatiently as you push your own throbbing core to his hand and fingers, and he chuckles a bit, without breath as the mere action aroused him to no end. 
“I’ll make you really wet and nice for me” He tells you, always so eloquent at the time of having sex. “You know my goals for this year? Make you my sweet wife…” He admits, moving his hand to your lower abdomen, pushing the dress to be a bit higher on your waist. He presses his hand there, his palm giving your cold body some heat. His fingers find your clit, and press against it so softly, giving you just the right stimulation to make you moan “And I’ll give you my baby, so your belly swells so full and nicely. Yeah, I’ll make you a mother… And then again, and again…” He starts rambling off a bit, his own lust talks for him, and you have to moan at these words. 
The mere thought of it makes your pussy clench in need, and you have to bite your lower lip because of it. Your head cannot properly focus on the pyrotechnic show ahead, but only in his words. You shoulder tense, and your head falls a bit as the lust is too much. You want, you need him inside. 
“Yeah, please, please…” You whine for him, wanting to get the clue and just fuck you, right there. 
“Let’s see, are you properly wet?” He says in his best smugly tone, and you know that tone. He wants to tease you.
Even if you cannot see him, the wet sounds give him away. He is fisting himself, at the sight of you, leaned in the balcony railing all at his mercy as the lights of the fireworks illuminate your figure, and while he inspects you, his fingers around your entrance to check how really wet you are. He takes the note, that if he wants to fuck you along with the pyrotechnic show, the moment was now.
He moves your legs to be apart, cursing in a low tone, as he takes your hips to accommodate you at his taste, and you have to shush your own moan once you feel the tip of his cock moving between your legs, all the way to your entrance. 
He pushes in, firmly and decided, yet still slow at first, as he always did. You assume that he takes his time, wanting to feel you opening at his length and he always groans lowly as if it was the best thing ever. 
You whimper, his cock as always moving inch by inch, slowly as if he wanted your walls to remember his shape, his hardness, every vein and how he throbs for you. 
“First time of the year, huh?” He cannot help but tease a bit, as his forehead was resting against your shoulder, and he looked how the sight of his cock disappeared as he pushed all the way in, and your ass against his crotch never fails to make him moan.  “Fuck..” 
With one arm wrapped around your waist, he moves the other one to caress your hip, as you moan impatiently for him to move.
“Focus on the fireworks” He insists, his tone shaky, and you both know that no one here cares for the damn fireworks right now.
He starts thrusting, slow at first, making you close your eyes in delight, and your breath is catching midway in your throat from how good it feels. He as well feels in pure delight, you always took him so well, you always were so tight that it made him fantasise about you always. 
“Just like that, baby” He says, increasing his thrusts, moving your hips to meet his pounding, and you start mewling, and it only seems to encourage him to move faster. His other hand finds the way to your hair, grabbing it to make your head look forward. “You wanted so badly to watch it, and now you don’t even care? Tsk, tsk…” 
You can hear the amusement of his tone, how he loves being the responsible of this, of making you melt under his touch, and thanks to his cock.
Entering you over and over, was probably the best way to start the year, and he marks this tradition as his own now, seeing the fireworks as he fuck you against the balcony railing. The idea pushes him into arousal even further, his forehead leaning on your shoulder again, and it makes so easy to hear his lascive sounds, his soft grunts as he keeps pushing your body to meet his, and wanting to make a mess out of you.
“Fuck!” There, he thinks smirking to himself, so buried into you, and he pushes away without any mercy. You let another mewl, lascive and filthy, driving him insane. “Aemond, fuck…” You moan, his cock deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot, and fitting so good inside you would never keep you quiet. 
You can see from the edge of you eyes the neighbors below, also in the balcony, but they were drinking champagne and unaware of how their upstairs neighbors were fucking like animals in the middle of the firework show.
“Are you close, sweet thing?” He asks kissing and nibbling below your ear, right where your jaw started. “Are you gonna cum– Gonna soak my cock, like the good girl you are?”
“Yes” You say breathing forcefully, letting out an exhale that feels more like a sob, and you nod frantically. His hand loose from your hand, and moves down to play, once again, with your pearl. 
At that, you have to move one of your own hands to your mouth not to shout in ectasis, as he does just the right thing. His cock deep inside you, thrusting and pounding into you, precum all over your walls, you are sure, and his fingers doing circles and rubbing your clitoris in the best way possible. 
It is no one’s surprise when you cum with a choked moan, your eyes closed as Aemond feels your walls clenching around you as your orgasm hits you. You don’t even seem to notice how the show keeps going, the palmer lake fireworks right in front of you, and you are too busy soaking his cock to notice.
He doesn’t last longer either, the sight and the feeling of you cumming around him, is enough to make him bury himself deep into you, and let out a moan as he fills you, his arm wrapped around you keeping you still so you don’t move as he cums inside you.
You both are out of breath, and you are too exhausted from the orgasm that hit you.
“Look” He murmurs, and you let out a little sound, not in the mood for his teasing. “Not, really, look; your favourites, the palmer ones..” He says pointing at them.
You look at the fireworks, explode so gracefully and then fall faintly. You chuckle a bit, as he hugs you from behind, kissing your cheek adoringly and tenderly.
“I love you” You say softly.
“I love you too” He says, as he pulls out, letting you enjoy the rest of the show. 
He pulls your dress down, and makes sure your jacket can warm you after all, and you thank him. He also fixes himself, and he takes you in his arms, kissing your forehead at the last, and more prettier fireworks are in the sky.
“I think that next year, you could ride me” He teases and you have to laugh at that. 
“I’ll do” you promise, curling in his hug and watching the sky full of colours.
It seems like a great year, already. 
281 notes · View notes
Text
Hangover 1
Warnings: dubcon, noncon, other possible triggers. Proceed with caution.
Note: can't stop, won't stop. Please leave any and all feedback! 💚💚💚💚💚💚
Part of The Club AU
Tumblr media
“Boris, I need that big breakfast,” you call through the window.
“Yeah, yeah,” the cook gristles back as he clinks a plate onto the metal, “you don't wait.”
“It's been twenty minutes,” you rebuff as you take the hot dish and veer around Monica at the counter.
You come around and carry it over to the only customer at a table. The officer came in looking underslept and worse for wear. A bruise is faded to yellow under his eyes and his stubble is just shorter than an actual beard.
“Here you are, honey,” you put on your customer service voice, “more coffee?”
“Yeah,” he puts his phone face down and unwraps the cutlery.
You go to the machine and grab a pot. You return and fill his cup as he jabs at the scrambled eggs.
“There ya go, honey, anything else I can do for you?”
“Yeah, stop calling me honey,” he snarls.
“Oh, sorry… sir.”
You back away and retreat back to the counter, offering more top ups as you burn with embarrassment. You suppose you can come on strong when you're looking for tips. Besides, you can't blame him for being grumpy. He seems to have a good reason for it.
You put on a fresh pot as you replace the urn on the burner. You dip behind the counter as Monica brings Vi her tea and egg whites. The old lady is one of the mainstays of the place.
“So,” Monica turns her back to the customers and lowers her voice, “how's Will?”
“I think he's liking college… must be having fun since I never hear from him,” you shrug, “only asks when he can come get his laundry done.”
“Typical, I'm not looking forward to Brandon being that age.”
“Yes, enjoy them while they're young and sweet,” you cluck.
“Waitress!” The cop booms from his table.
“Chipper guy,” Monica mutters under her breath as you turn on your heel.
You go back to the table. You notice the wrinkles in his uniform, the buttons aren't lined up properly either. He has his hand on his forehead. He leans over his plate as his shoulders tense and you see his boy racking.
Oh god, no! You've seen this before. Will would get like this when he brought home the flu.
“Oh no, just…”
You put your hand on his back and urge him over the plate as he pukes. You smell the alcohol then. You rub between his shoulder blades as he retches, not bringing up much more than the few bites he took.
“I'll get ya something,” you pull the towel from your apron and offer him that.
You try not to wrinkle your nose as you pick up his plate and carry it behind the counter. You dump it in the bin as Monica lets out a blech. You agree but you don't want to bring too much attention to the situation.
You go into the kitchen and wash your hands. You find a bucket and bring it out to the cop. He's bent over the table, head on his arms.
“Hon– sir,” you put the bucket on the table, “you want some water?”
He doesn't react. You go and get water for him, setting it by his elbow. He breathes heavily but doesn't move.
“You gonna be sick again?”
“No,” he grumbles, “I'm fine.”
You open your mouth but think better of it. You almost wonder if he's actually a cop. Maybe you should call the real ones.
You leave him and go to hide behind the counter. You have enough to worry about between tuition and your mortgage.
“Guy's a mess,” Monica whispers.
“Just a bit,” you agree.
“It's not even noon…”
“Shhhh, he's having a rough one,” you say, “he'll go eventually.”
“As long as he pays his bill,” she tuts.
“Yeah, let's hope,” you frown and peek over your shoulder. So much for a decent tip.
🍽
The cop leaves about an hour after he got there. You forget quickly with the lunch rush. You spend your last few hours running yourself ragged.
You exchange your apron for your coat and leave through the side door. As you come into the alley, you notice the cruiser parked beside the dumpsters. You sidle by, stopping as you see the figure strewn over the back seat.
It's the same cop that was in the diner. You're content to keep going but your shoe hits a shape that jingles. You look down, a set of keys that can be for nothing other than the car in front of you. Those doors only open from the outside… wow. You won't call the guy a disaster, you can't exactly say you're any better.
You bend and pick up the keys. You unlock the door and open it, the edge hitting the dumpster. You don't know what to do so you just grab the cops ankle and shake his leg.
“Sir,” you raise your voice.
He throws his arm off his head and props himself up on his elbow, “what?”
“Um, you dropped these,” you place the keys by his shoe. “Sorry.”
He grunts but doesn't respond. You back up, leaving the door open. He slowly slides to the edge of the seat and hands his legs out of the car, bracing the door as he wipes the sleep from his eyes.
“Was sleepin’ good,” he growls.
“I… I was just checking on you… are you okay?”
“Does it matter?” He pulls himself up, snatching up the keys and slamming the back door. “Doing just fucking fine.”
“Alright, I wasn't…” you show your palms defensively, “have a good day officer.”
“Thanks, waitress,” he scoffs.
You bite down on his tone. It's not the first time you've been spoken to like that. In your line of work, it's all too common, and as you get more years under you, it's just how it is.
You turn and head towards the street. The engine rolls over behind you and as you near the end, you hear the tires crunching on pebbles. You barely manage to move out of the way as the officer steers into the street. You just stand back and watch him veer off. As bad as your day might be, his seems worse.
219 notes · View notes
littlenightma · 4 months
Text
Protective!Rusty Nail Headcanons
Tumblr media
• Once you have Rusty’s unconditional love and trust, there’s no going back. He doesn’t get attached to people easily so once you’re his, you’re his for life. He is not going to let you go, not after you’ve won over his heart.
• You guys have seen what Rusty is willing to do for a car that was gifted to him so just imagine the lines he’d cross and the skulls he’d crush if anyone was stupid enough to lay a hand on you. Do not touch his cars and lord don’t ever touch his lady.
• One thing about Rusty is he may be a maniac with a temper problem, but he ain’t no cheater. You will never have to worry about him being with anyone else while on the road and he expects the same respect in return. He has two things on his mind while traveling; getting the load to its destination then coming straight home to you.
• When out in public, don’t expect to get any space from this man. He’s attached to you like bees to honey. If he’s unable to be near you, best believe he’s watching your every move from the shadows, waiting for any signs of distress.
• Hates crowds. By himself they’re not a problem since most tend to avoid him, but with you he’s in a constant state of vigilance, eyes actively searching for possible danger beneath his hat.
• If he ever looks and sees you aren’t there, this cool and collected man will become the definition of distraught. When he finds you, you are so going to hear it on the way to the truck and on the way home.
• “Rusty please, I said I was sorry.”
• “Damn near caused me to have a heart attack looking for you, darlin’. You can’t do that to me.”
• If this man could put you on one of those toddler leashes, he would.
• Seatbelt in the truck is a must. No ifs, ands, or buts. He drives a heavy piece of machinery all day long and when you are on board, he’s hauling precious cargo. If you try to argue, he will put it on himself, kissing you hard as he leans over to hush your complaining.
• Keeps a pillow and blanket in the truck when you get cold or need to sleep. The first time you fell asleep in the passenger seat your head kept banging the window and he was worried you were going to end up with a concussion.
• “That was the best sleep I’ve ever had I think.”
• “You worry me sometimes.”
• Hates to see you in pain, especially when it prevents you from riding with him. It eats him up inside when he’s unable to be near you. He’ll call you from the road every few hours to check up on you and if you ask for him, he’ll stop whatever he’s doing and turn the truck around.
• Don’t get him started about your period. He dreads it every month.
• “I hate it for you, baby girl. Is there anything I can do for ya?”
• “Can I put my feet on you? They’re cold.”
• “Prop’em up here.”
NSFW 18+
• Loves how horny you are on it though. Waking up in the middle of the night because you’re in the mood is the one and only reason he’d wake up early on his day off and not be grumpy. You have every permission to use his body as you please. Playing audience to you half asleep seeking him out, hand slipping him out of his sweatpants and making a pleased noise when you do is a sight to behold for this old man. He’ll lean against the headboard with an arm above his head and a hand stroking the back of yours while you suck eagerly.
• “My, my, what an appetite. Were you hungry, darlin’? Take as much as you want, then.”
• Always makes sure you are satisfied. He ain’t happy until you are. If he doesn’t think you’ve had enough, he’ll give you more. One more thrust, one more swipe of his tongue, whatever it is he’s giving it to you. He loves seeing you come undone, spewing nonsense, taking turns from pushing at his chest then pulling him back down again.
• One day he jokingly says that he’d love to brand you with the cattle iron with his initial on it not thinking anything of it until you ask him where he wants to put it.
• And were dead serious.
• He places the prod on your hip and presses, holding you in place between his knees while you bravely take the pain. When it’s over, he’ll admire his work and the person it’s placed on.
177 notes · View notes
autumnslance · 1 year
Text
Thancred & Louisoix
From the tags on another post, there was commentary about "cute art but" and then spoke of a perspective being Louisoix "kidnapped" Thancred, sent him to spy training but not Studium, claimed there were no provisions made for him nor that Louisoix developed the same close relationships with Thancred as with Papalymo or Urianger, and then Thancred nearly destroys himself trying to live up to expectations they felt Louisoix had set.
While it IS a possible perspective, I dunno that it's one I personally agree with, even if one has a less-charitable view of the old Leveilleur patriarch. Everything in "One Name, One Promise" (Thancred's "Tales from the Shadows" short story on the official Lodestone site) indicates that Louisoix gave Thancred a choice in coming to Sharlayan, after noting the boy's skills and potential, the first person who ever did.
Skills and abilities he already had learned through sheer survival, and were then honed and turned to a better use than picking pockets and sneak-thiefing, showing the kid there was a better way. And even as a Gunbreaker, Thancred's always seemed quite proud of his infiltration skills.
Y'shtola wasn't sent to the Studium either; she was directly apprenticed to a Master, as Thancred was, and as indicated in "Secret in the Box", the Thancred-centric backstory side quest in Old Sharlayan in Endwalker, several others were apprenticed as well. Not everyone who attends the Studium does become an Archon--the rest of the Leveilleur family, for instance, are also all graduates of that institute.
In a nation that is built around education and knowledge, they are going to know there's more than one right way to learn, as everyone is different and so to are their paths to success. And not everyone goes on to get their doctorates, which Archon seems equivalent to--you have to want that level, as it's a lot. Alisaie in Shadowbringers patches mentions her thesis for graduation was onerous enough, an Archon one sounded like too much.
Thancred wears his marks on his neck. A proof to himself as much or more than others of his worth, perhaps. Dude has a lot of hangups; is infamous for them, really. And sets his own expectations on his worth.
In ARR, especially in the scene after Ifrit, Minfilia is obviously weary of Thancred's self-recriminations. Any idea that he has to be better and live up to an ideal seem entirely his own, that no one else--even those other close apprentices--seem to have been left with themselves. It's part of Thancred's own personality thanks to his very different background from his peers.
In Shadowbringers, during the time in Twine trying to get the trolley sorted out, Thancrd himself notes that he had a father figure in Loiusoix--he was just too stubborn and hurt as a youth to realize it yet. Which indicates to me, at least, that Louisoix probably didn't push Thancred's boundaries.
In fact, Thancred spends a lot of time in that section of 5.0 MSQ talking about what a callow, foolish youth he was, how he didn't realize what he DID have, until it was far too late. His struggle in ShB is his old, unresolved traumas conflicting with his present feelings and situation once again, making it difficult for him to accept he HAS found love, family, safety, etc. and finally dealing with that--culminating in a cathartic battle with his nemesis to protect his family.
And even then, all the way through 5.3, it's still hard for Thancred to say what he feels out loud, publicly. It's just not easy for him. He's opened up slightly more in EW, but still edges around a bit.
What Thancred says specifically in the ShB quest "The Truth Hurts":
Thancred: I grew up an orphan, so I never really knew what family meant. Thancred: Not until I met a man who offered to take me in and make me his pupil. He was a kindly soul. Always looking out for me, like a father. Not that I appreciated that at the time, or anything else for that matter… Thancred: But I finally had a family. And then…and then I robbed a young girl of hers.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
(and then of course still blames himself for what happened to Warburton and Minfilia despite everything Thancred DID do for them...)
Anyway. I've spent a lot of time studying their relationship, back when I wrote Rogue's Prelude and in new lore released since then, to see what, if anything, contradicts. And in everything I came across, the only one who didn't consciously realize what family he's had the entire time, is Thancred himself; he couldn't dare to call it that. It's a much more recent revelation for him, even as he strove to prove his worth and take on the role of protector and fill those shoes, given his own over-developed sense of responsibility to the people in his life.
Since it's a longer passage (and this got wordy enough), the lines from "One Name, One Promise" are under the cut (as external links so far as I know kill post visibility).
The elderly Elezen whom he chose as his mark had other ideas, however. No sooner had the boy lifted a hand than he found himself flat on his back, his limbs bound by powerful magicks. A short life in gaol beckoned, or perhaps a quick death.
And then the strangest thing happened. The man took him by the hand, led him to a quiet corner away from the bustling crowds, looked him straight in the eye and said, “My name is Louisoix Leveilleur. I am a scholar from across the seas. What is your name, child?”
“Thancred,” the boy mumbled, still in disbelief.
“Thancred...what? Have you any family?” the old man continued, with a sympathetic smile.
“Just Thancred,” the boy shrugged. “And I don’t have a family—at least, none that I know of.”
The man who had called himself Louisoix paused for a moment, stroking his beard, before appearing to come to a conclusion.
“You are quick and able beyond your years. Were you only in a place where you could learn to use these gifts for the good of all, rather than merely as tools for your own survival—why, there is no telling what life you might lead...”
Thancred listened in silence, his frown speaking volumes. It’s not as if I chose this, you know. But Louisoix responded with a sad-yet-knowing smile, and the words that would change the boy’s life forever.
“Come with me to Sharlayan. You are a gifted child, and there is much that I would teach you...”
And so it was that Thancred’s new life began.
To commemorate the occasion, Thancred was to claim the surname of “Waters.” Such flourishes had been unnecessary on the Lominsan streets, but would be indispensable in more respectable locales. Thancred chafed at first, not keen to declare his lowly heritage to all and sundry, but Master Louisoix would brook no opposition. “Thaliak, guardian of rushing rivers and purveyor of knowledge,” the sage mused. “A lad such as yourself could do far worse for a protector.” And so Thancred grudgingly accepted the name he would come to wear with pride.
Louisoix also found a suitable mentor for the child—an old hand in covert operations who would train Thancred to follow in his printless footsteps. Sharlayan was a society that valued knowledge and expertise in all forms, and shadowy agents were not shunned as disreputable rogues, but respected as key contributors to the nation. It was in such a capacity that Louisoix hoped the boy might excel and find his true calling.
Stunned as he was at this turn of events, Thancred was no fool. He understood the future Louisoix envisioned for him, and endeavored to do all he could to meet his patron’s expectations. He honed his body that he might infiltrate the most impregnable of strongholds in the harshest of environments, and his mind that he might charm the wariest merchants and socialites in the most critical of circumstances.
Before he knew it, the streetwise child of the Lominsan alleyway was no more. In his place stood a confident youth who could pose as anyone’s friend and confidant long enough to procure the knowledge his client demanded.
A short while later, Thancred’s surpassing skills were recognized, and upon his skin was inscribed the sigil of an Archon. When Louisoix gazed upon this mark, he could scarce contain his joy. The boy he had personally led out of penury and taken under his wing had realized his potential.
60 notes · View notes
the-kr8tor · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Speed Drive
🎉500 celebration fic🎉
Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader
Word count: 6.2k
Synopsis: You come along with Hobie on a road trip to Glasgow. Aka the fic where I squeezed in multiple dream dates of mine lol
Tags: Use of Y/N sparingly, no specific physical description of the reader, cw food mention, reader is a history nerd (definitely not projecting), the reader can't drive, sunshine! Reader. Suggestive content, lovestruck Hobie, Established relationship. FLUFF.
A/n: I did some research on the places they went to, if there are any inaccuracies on the geography/ information, please note that I've never been to any of these places, I'm only basing my knowledge on what I've researched and what I've studied in uni.
* I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms and copy and pasted on any ai software*
Navigation
Masterlist
Tumblr media
You grunt as you lift the heavy amp, back straightened so you don't accidentally sprain yourself. Waddling towards Hobie's van, amp sitting heavily near your waist. The sun is just about rising on the horizon, painting the pavement deep blue. The water laps at the house boat's side, the sound familiar, adding to the relaxed atmosphere where you and Hobie are the only ones awake in the entire city. The early morning air nips at your skin, leaving goosebumps on the back of your neck.
Suddenly, strong familiar arms wrap around the amp. "What are you doin'? Told you I've got them" Hobie clicks his tongue, taking the amp from you.
He's annoyed but not at you, he's irritated that he got the short end of the stick, ending up waking up early (too early) to load the instruments. You don't take it to heart, knowing his annoyance isn't because of you. It would've been better if he just helped his band mates load them in, but lady luck wasn't on his side. Unfortunately he also got driving duties, now he has to drive seven hours to get to Glasgow for the band's very first big gig. Leaving the rest of the band to take (a very comfortable) train ride at a later hour. Hobie's a bit jealous on that end, he would've liked for you to see the sights on a train instead of sitting on his old van that creaks when he steers a little too far to the left.
The only silver lining about the impromptu road trip is you. Seven hours on the road with just you is pure bliss, if only he didn't have to wake up in this ungodly hour, he would've been in a better mood.
"Sorry, you were busy loading in the drums. Thought I would help" you look up at him through equally tired eyes. A cloud of breath escaping when you talk. Hobie zips your jacket further up, keeping you warm.
He heaves the amp on one arm, effortlessly carrying it. "Don't be, you're just trying to help." Hobie feels guilty for clicking his tongue at you. He holds your cold hand, sharing his warmth.
"You're definitely not a morning person" you squeeze his hand. "grumpy" bringing his hand to your lips, you leave a chaste kiss over his knuckles. "Is that the last one?"
"Think so," he looks around the area, finding nothing else to load inside the van. "Don't forget to bring in the thermos, you're turning into an icicle"
"Okay, I made us sandwiches" you smile at him, swinging your intertwined hands.
"What kind?" He stomps down his grumpy demeanor at the sound of breakfast.
"Lots!" You grin excitedly at him, Hobie wonders where you got your sudden burst of energy.
"Fuckin' hell, no wonder why you were up so late. You made every conceivable sandwich in the world" he jokes, your happy energy spreading to him.
You chuckle, "not every single one. You have the first pick for waking up so early"
"Yeah? Even though you threatened to splash me with water?" He raises a pierced brow, a smile curling on his lips.
You wince, "yeah, sorry. It finally got you to wake up though!"
"Yeah, yeah, and here I thought you would wake me up with a kiss"
"I did! Like five fucking times. You wouldn't even stir, I got desperate, okay!" You laugh, it echoes around the silent neighborhood.
"I believe you, can you get our bags from inside? I'll warm up the van" Hobie reluctantly lets go of your hand. You feel cold already.
"Get it nice and toasty for me?"
"What are you? Banana bread?"
"Funny" you point at him playfully, walking backwards.
"Don't forget the bloody Thermos!" He yells after you, following you with his gaze, making sure you don't trip because you decided to walk backwards.
You wink at him, "okay, dad!"
"Lil shit" he says with a smile.
Munching on your sandwich, Hobie cranked up the heating, you're now warm and toasty in your seat. The leather squeaks when you move to feed Hobie a bite of your sandwich. He *insists that he prefers yours even though you made an identical one. Hobie's free hand is glued to your thigh, squeezing it from time to time, making sure you don't fall asleep on him.
Hobie keeps his eyes on the road, trying to take a bite of the sandwich that you've teasingly moved a few inches away from his waiting mouth.
He bites at air, "Oi, what the fuck" you snicker, biting your lip. Hobie immediately figures out what you're doing, "don't make me swerve this fucking car into that ditch"
"Jeez, okay!" You laugh, leaning closer (as much as the seat belt would allow you to) Hobie takes a generous bite, "you're still grumpy? Do you need more coffee?" You rub at the corner of his mouth with your thumb, cleaning the bread crumbs. He hums appreciatively.
"I don't think that coffee's workin' too well" he says while chewing. "We're not even out of the city yet" Hobie huffs.
"Do you want me to drive for a bit?" You wait for his reaction with a tiny smirk.
"You haven't got a license," He says matter-of-fact, "you don't even know how to drive" he doesn't sound condescending or making fun of you, his voice laced with endearment. He makes a mental note to teach you once you two get back home. His fingers pinches you through your pants.
"I'm a fast learner" you joke, Hobie cracks a sleep deprived smile, oh he's definitely not a morning person. "Give it time, you basically drank the entire thermos. Maybe some music could help?"
"If it's your music, I'm gonna fall asleep on the wheel" He squeezes your thigh, just in case you didn't get his joke.
"If it's your music, It's going to burst my eardrums this early in the morning" you quip back.
"Nice. Sandwich me, love" he opens his mouth, darting his eyes from the road to you before his gaze goes back to watching the road.
You lean again, holding up the almost finished sandwich. "Do you know who invented the sandwich?" Hobie eats the entire thing in one bite, almost taking your fingers off. You glare playfully at him.
He chuckles, mouth full. "No, who?"
"Lord Sandwich, the fourth earl of Sandwich in the eighteenth century"
"You're fucking with me" Hobie takes a left turn, the van creaks, instruments in the back sliding a bit. You watch his hand turn the steering wheel, mesmerized by how his large hand grips the wheel. His rings don't help, you tilt your head, watching intently.
He pinches your thigh, getting your attention. "Hey, where'd you go?"
"Sorry, I was trying to recall the rest of the fact" you blink back to reality.
"Will you be like this the entire trip? Watching my bloody hands, you perv" He read you like an open book.
"What– I wasn't, okay! I was–" you fumble with your words.
He has a playful smirk on his lips. "You were what? Fantasizing my hands wrapped around your–"
"Stop!" You hold his hand that's on your thigh, so he could stop his teasing.
"What? I was gonna say 'wrapped around your hand', honestly what did you think I was gonna say?" He asks you playfully, shoving your shoulder lightly.
"it's too early for this shit" you mumble with a playful pout, intertwining your fingers with his.
He laughs, eyes crinkling into a smile. Hobie brings your hand to his lips, placing a quick peck on your warm hand. "Ah, too early for it? Maybe later then?"
You groan but your smile and the twinkle in your eyes says otherwise.
"What were you talking about? 'Bout the sandwich bloke?"
"John Montagu, he invented the sandwich because he didn't have time to eat a proper meal while he was playing cards and working."
"Bloody rich lord" he grumbles with malice.
"Hey, if not for him you wouldn't be eating one of my Sandwiches"
"I love eating your sandwich" he raises a teasing brow, proud of his innuendo.
"What is up with you this morning?" You laugh, playing with one of his rings, twirling the metal around his index finger. "Seriously, did I accidentally make you coffee with something in it? Is that why it says 'special' in the packaging?"
Hobie laughs loudly, echoing around the van. "You think they'd put an aphrodisiac in coffee?" He lets go of your hand for a bit while he steers the wheel with both hands. "Like ginkgo biloba or somethin'?"
You reach for his free hand immediately after he lets go of the wheel to lay it back on your thigh. "No like pistachio nuts or–" you try to think of another example, "— crab" you giggle when the word escapes your lips.
"Crab?!" He rides with your bit. "Must be some expensive bloody coffee, lovey" Hobie rubs the back of your hand with his thumb. "No wonder I tasted something fishy in that coffee"
You gasp, feigning offense. "You did not!" contributing to the bit.
"Now who's crabby this morning, huh?" He chuckles.
You roll your eyes at his pun, "argh, can't believe I have to endure seven more hours of this" teasing him, your sentence has no ounce of truth in it whatsoever. More than happy to accompany him on the trip.
"It'll be the best seven hours of your life, sweets" He looks at you through the rearview mirror with a smirk.
You can read him like a book too. Narrowing your eyes, you can just tell he has something planned, but you can't quite put your finger on it.
"You've got something up your sleeves? Spill it, Hobart"
He sideways glances at you, hiding his knowing smile. "Don't know what you're on about" Hobie clears his throat, playing it cool.
"Nope, I know you, babe. That fucking smirk of yours, I know it!" You lightly poke at his cheek.
"Lovey, I haven't got a scooby doo. I'm just here drivin' trying to get us to Glasgow"
"You get very detailed when you're lying. I know your tells!"
"That so?" He makes a mental note of what you've said, which might be handy the next time he has a surprise. Hobie opens the radio, cd already inside, it plays a loud tune, drowning out your questions.
"Hey!" You yell through the loud music. Hobie almost gives himself away with a laugh, he bites his lip to stifle it. "Whatever– wherever you're planning to stop at some backroad tourist attraction, we better not be too late for the show!"
Hobie cranks the volume up, "What? Can't hear you through the music" he gestures towards his ear.
You press the 'volume down' button, covering your ears. Now you're definitely both wide awake. "You're an ass, you can't have any more of my sandwiches" huffing, you grab a ziplock of sandwich just to tease him more.
Banter fills the van, laughs and flirty words entertain you until sleep comes back to haunt you. Unexpectedly falling asleep, Hobie lets you snooze away in his passenger seat. Avoiding potholes, slowing down when passing a speed bump. He even uses his arm to act as your second seat belt whenever he turns sharply, hand cradling your head so you don't fall off the headrest.
Hobie has the urge to wake you though, but he needs you at full energy for what he's planning on taking you. Eyes drifting to the van's console, he gazes at your camera, taking a mental note to remember to give you the extra roll of films he bought for you.
Hobie shuts off the engine, eyes bleary, he clicks the seatbelt off of him. He has the urge to close his eyes and join you in slumberland. One look at your sleeping face almost pushes him off the edge.
He leans closer to you, hand cupping your jaw, he taps your face with his thumb. "Love" you don't stir, eyes still closed. Hobie's so attuned to you that he knows you're not faking it.
He kisses you chastely, warm lips puckering to wake you up. Hobie calls your name this time, poking your cheek. You still sleep, lips slightly parted. He's absolutely jealous of you right now. Peppering your face with kisses, he fully intends to wake you up. Defeated, you still lay asleep.
A bright idea pops up in his mind. Pulling away, Hobie grips the steering wheel with both hands, arms length away from him. He screams bloody murder like he's about to hit a wall.
You jump away, yelling for a second before seeing the parking lot bare, van parked safely. You clutch your chest, eyes now wide awake. Slapping his arm, you glare at him. Hobie has a shit-eating grin on his face, arm raised to shield himself. His laugh echoes.
"You fucker!" Slap "I could've" slap "gotten a heart attack!" You huff with a pout.
"I'm sorry, c'mere" he tries to hug you, standing your ground, you cross your arms on your chest. "You wouldn't wake up! I'm sorry, please?" Hobie flexes his fingers, face apologetic.
"Are we here? Did I sleep the entire time?"
"No, lovey. We're at a stopover" he points outside with his head. "'m really sorry. If there's any consolation I think you'll like this place"
Your eyes zero in on the sign, reading it loudly, "Stratford Upon-Avon?!" Screeching excitedly. You click off your seat belt with urgency, with the intention of leaving Hobie hanging as revenge. You'll kiss him thank you later anyway.
Opening the door, you step off, stretching your legs and breathing in fresh air. Warmer air greets you, a much kinder one from a few hours ago. Trainers bouncing off in excitement. Greenery and old timey Houses fill your vision, adding to your eagerness.
Hobie joins your side, your sling bag over his broad shoulder. Hiding his disappointment from your lack of hug, he only blames himself for scaring the crap out of you.
"Y/n." The lack of the term of endearment alerts you, whirling around, you see his shoulders slumped, face clearly hiding his true feelings behind a straight face. You know he'll feel worse if you don't try to reassure him. So you do, hand signaling him to hold yours.
He blames the early morning for making him all lovesick, if it was the later hours, Hobie would've stuck to teasing you about your reaction. With a sigh and a weak roll of his eyes, he steps in your arms instead of just holding your hand, head resting on your shoulder, yawning as you knead his aching back; you indulge him.
Good thing it's still too early for tourists to flock the area, save for a few scattered ones looking for a place to have breakfast at.
"Apology accepted," leaning back, you straighten the knots on his forehead. "You need better coffee" you scrunch your nose at his closed eyes.
"Or sleep" he grumbles.
"Do you want to sleep for a bit inside the van?" You feel bad for sleeping the entire time. "I'll stay with you don't worry. I won't fall asleep this time."
He shakes his head, slapping his own face to wake himself up. Jumping up and down with you still in his arms. You don't question it, jumping along with him. Metal accessories clinking together, boots thumping hard on the pavement.
Spluttering, he shakes his head vigorously. You giggle at his face.
"Alright, 'm good. Let's go get coffee"
You lead a very sleep deprived Hobie by the sleeve of his hoodie, too warm for his leather one yet too cold for just a t-shirt. He lets you drag him along, not because he's disinterested, sleepiness just got the best of him.
Gasping, you point at a unique streetlight. Little statues of a donkey and a man sitting on the metal sides, a curious owl placed on top, looking down on the street.
"Look at that donkey with a guitar!"
Hobie squints through the haziness, "think that's a lute. Kinda looks like you." He still finds the time to tease you even with heavy eyes. A smirk playing on his lips, watching you closely.
"You're the owl then" you let go of his sleeve, taking the camera from your bag, positioning and angling it for the best lighting. He watches your face full of concentration with a faint endearing smile.
Click.
"Got it" you smile, spotting a stand full of maps and information about the place. "Oohh" skipping over the display, you take one. "Hobie, look! Babe?" You look up from the pamphlet when Hobie doesn't reply back.
He walks towards you at a snail's pace. Grunting back in acknowledgement.
You wince, practically feeling his tiredness ooze out of him. "Let's get that coffee. There's a café near here."
"Overpriced coffee" he could only mumble out a protest. While you guide him towards the shop for some much needed refuel. It's not like he has any other choices, all the coffee shops near the area are unnecessarily expensive, save for gas station coffee– which is too far to get to right now, he might fall asleep while driving to it.
Hobie can't let himself drive through the fog of sleep, especially that you're with him. So he surrenders with the promise of getting his pep back so he can drive you safely to the next destination.
After gulping down two cups of coffee that made Hobie seethe after hearing the price, he leaves you on the table to go to the loo, your eyes glued on the leaflet, absorbing every word and information on it.
Hobie makes his way back, now wide awake, he watches you put too much milk on your cup, too distracted with reading– it overflows, spilling the hot liquid on the table. He has never loved you more when you jump in your seat, quietly yelping, clumsily wiping at the table with a napkin. He shakes his head with a fond smile and soft eyes.
Hobie asks for more napkins from the cashier, promptly heading towards your table. He helps you wordlessly, wiping, avoiding spilling any more expensive tea.
"Sorry" you expect Hobie to chastise you for spilling your drink, instead, he looks at you with concern and fondness.
"You alright? Didn't spill any on you?"
You smile softly, thankful eyes staring back at him. "I'm okay, it's not that hot anyway"
"Sure?" He takes his tea stained finger on the tip of your nose, leaving a wet patch over it. Green tea wafts your nostrils. "There's some on you"
"Ack!" Wiping it with a clean tissue, you roll your eyes; faint smile telling him otherwise.
"That's how it is then?" He chuckles, satisfied with your reaction. He sits down next to you, drying his hands on a napkin. Arm instinctively flying around your shoulder, holding you close. "Where to go next?"
"Hmm?" You hum, drinking what's left of your tea, "I thought you had it planned?"
"I planned on stopping here, thought you got the next part since you've always wanted to go here, y'know planned the entire trip in your head before"
For a second he thinks that you're disappointed in him for not planning ahead. The thought stops the second you beam at him, hands on his shoulder to anchor yourself on him. lips puckering to kiss him on the cheek quickly since you're in public. Hobie doesn't protest, leaning towards the kiss, angling his face so that your lips just about graze the corner of his lip. You know exactly what he's doing, you let him, moving slyly closer to his lips.
"Oh, you know me so well!" You say excitedly, pulling away, shaking his shoulder for emphasis. "First stop! The river Avon!"
"The ferry's closed" you come back to his side with a frown. Gusts of cool air rushes past, rustling your jacket, the leaves on the trees whisper and rustle in the wind, big fluffy clouds providing shade. The river laps at the dock, adding to your downturned lips. "The employee also said Shakespeare's house and the other houses are closed since it's too early"
"We'll just have to come back on our way home then" your frown turns back into a smile, poking his sides teasingly.
"You'll take me back here?" You say with a smirk, playful eyes smile back at him, finger poking his waist. "Ohhh, you're so smitten"
He takes your poking finger with a roll of his eyes, hiding the growing smile on his lips with a scoff. "Yeah, yeah. Where to now, tour guide?"
"The butterfly farm is open early. Is that okay?"
"Why not?"
"We have to walk there, it's a bit of a trek" you shrug, "it's okay if we don't have time for it"
He calculates in his head, if you only stay an hour more, you two can be right back on schedule; just on time to get to Glasgow without being late for the show.
"We've got time to spare"
"You sure? I don't want us to be late" toe to toe with Hobie, finger still encased in his hand, you ask him anyway even though you know what his answer will be.
"Yes, let's go before people flock this place"
Hand in hand, you take in the sights, stopping from time to time to shoot pictures of the historical houses and buildings. Hobie becomes your model, posing like a natural in front of the lens. He wrangles the camera from you to take your picture right in front of Shakespeare's home and school. Shyness slowly edging away for a while as Hobie hypes you up. Instructing you to pose here and there.
You ran out of film before reaching the butterfly garden, stopping right in front of the royal Shakespeare theatre. The red bricks and dome like structure looms overhead.
"Aww, I think we used it all"
"'ve got more" he takes an extra roll of film from his pocket. You stare at him like he just did magic right in front of your eyes.
"Where'd you get this?" You say, bewildered.
"Brought it with me" he says nonchalantly like he didn't do the sweetest thing just for you.
"Have I told you lately that you're really amazing?" You load film inside the camera, quickly snapping a picture of his smug face.
"No, maybe you should say it often"
So enamored, chest filled with love, you agree. "Mm-hmm, maybe I should. Now, can you stand right there while I take a picture of your amazing face"
You finally make it to the butterfly garden. An arch with a large colourful butterfly display greets you. Inside is a beautiful glass greenhouse with a dome ceiling, it shines brightly in the early morning sun, adding to your excitement.
Once paid for the tickets, you and Hobie head inside, you're practically jumping off the glass walls. Hobie's hand leads you inside, preventing you from sliding on the gravel and breaking your ankle on the rough ground.
You're in complete awe of the place, it looked beautiful outside but nothing compares to it once inside. The sun glows brilliantly, bouncing its rays on the glass ceiling and walls. Flora and greenery as far as your eyes could see, strategically placed around the massive greenhouse. The flowery and sweet smells entranced you to explore the entire place, not to mention the colorful butterflies in all shapes and sizes fluttering all around you. Birds make their morning sing-song adding to the fantastical atmosphere.
The look on your face makes waking up a few hours earlier than scheduled makes it all worth it for Hobie. He softly smiles at you, hands clasped comfortably over yours. Eyes sparkling, mirroring yours, he guides you further inside. You let him, neck craned up, watching as butterflies swirl overhead.
Gravel crunches under your footsteps, Hobie stops walking. You almost bumped into him, he tugs at your hand, pointing down on the shrubbery.
"What is that?" You squint, jumping when something green slithers further away from you two and into the thick greenery. "Woah!"
He chuckles at your reaction. You fumble for your camera to capture a photo of the iguana lounging in the warmth, scales as green as the leaves around it.
Click.
"Look, it's you!" You point at its sharp spikes, looking at Hobie with a teasing smile.
"Careful, he bites" he taunts back, making you retract your finger back.
Strolling around more, you take so many pictures, the film Hobie gave you is almost full. You've even snuck in candid pictures of Hobie, and by god, he looked great in all of them. While all your pictures looked like you were at a field trip with your parents, posing with a goofy smile on your face as a butterfly lands on your shoulder.
It's been almost an hour of exploring, so you hold his hand again to tug him towards the exit with a promise of going back, without a time constraint next time.
Crisp air greets you two, hand in hand, you walk by the river, watching as ducks and swans swim on the surface. Their quacking and honking gets louder and louder as they notice you, asking for food.
"Maybe we should've brought rice with us" You mumble, looking at the birds with an apologetic look as if they can understand you.
"Do you think if you fall in they'll eat you?" Hobie asks with a serious look on his face, a small smirk curling on his lips, the only indication that he's fully joking.
"I don't think they'll like me very much, I'm full of bread, which isn't nutritious for 'em" you playfully quipped back, squeezing his hand. He chuckles at your comment.
Hobie slyly moves you away from the river, just in case you actually fall in. He guides you to his right, so that he's the one nearest to the water instead of you. Hand holding your left one, you lean to his side, full of affection in your chest, you softly kiss his shoulder. Whispering softly a 'thank you'
You've been quiet for an hour, Hobie side eyes you from time to time. The sudden silence makes him concerned, moreso when your face has contorted into a grimace, eyebrows furrowed, you bite your lips with a sharp inhale.
He's worried since you've been extremely chatty an hour ago, voice filling the van, you help him stay awake. Well until he hit a speed bump that made you squeak out.
"You alright, lovey?" Hobie asks with a squeeze of your thigh.
You sit with a fluffy blanket over your lap, a neck pillow under your head. You look comfortable enough, so why do you look like you're in pain?
You exhale, looking at him through the corners of your eyes without moving your neck. "Mm-hmm"
"Mm-hmm? What's wrong? Is the seat not warm enough?" Hobie looks at you through the rearview mirror, seeing your knitted eyebrows.
You ball the blanket under your knuckles. "I'm okay"
He nods, unconvinced.
After a few moments of smooth driving on the highway, cars drive past, you squeeze your thighs together. Controlling your breathing, you try not to think of water.
"Love" he calls for you, "did you see that car with the flame decals on it?" Chuckling softly, he places his hand over your thigh again. Hobie feels the tight muscles under your pants, eyebrow raising in question.
"Y/n" he snickers under his breath. Hands kneading softly at your thigh. Hobie translates the squeezing of your thighs together and your elevated breathing, "I swear if you're hot and bothered, I can't park right here–"
"I need to pee" you say embarrassed, avoiding his eyes. Only finally admitting it so he doesn't actually think you're aroused for some reason.
Hobie laughs loudly, hand slapping the steering wheel. "I told you to go before we left"
"Hobie," you whine. "Not funny, I've been holding it for so long"
"Alright," he clams up, still smiling at your predicament. "There's no gas station near here, love. We're too far away to turn around but we're thirty minutes away from Manchester. We can stop there"
"Thirty?!" You're in agony, hands tucked in between your legs in an attempt to tamp down the need to go.
Hobie moves his hand from your thigh to the back of your neck, kneading softly. He presses the gas, if he hurries you can make it in twenty five without breaking any traffic laws. He makes a joke about you peeing in a bottle which you only glared in return.
Twenty minutes later, you're folded in half on your seat, head layed on your lap, trying to distract yourself by counting the threads in your blanket.
"Almost there, love. Hold on" Hobie pats your head in reassurance. You groan out a reply.
You jumped from your seat after a second of Hobie parking the car in front of a gas station. Hand tightening around your travel sized toilet paper.
Hobie patiently waits for you outside the door. Fingers fiddling with his web shooters tucked under his sleeve.
The door creaks open. His neck cranes up to meet your relieved face. "Success?"
"Remind me to not drink anything until we make it to Glasgow."
"You still need to drink some water y'know" he walks back to the car with your pinkies linked together.
"Are we still far?"
"A bit, let's stop by Liverpool to eat lunch" he opens the passenger door for you. You smile sweetly at the gesture.
"Thank you, sorry for being annoying" You hug his waist with one arm briefly just before you hop to your seat.
"Not annoying, tell me next time, yeah?"
"Okay" you lean down to press a kiss on his lips, savoring the moment. He hums into it, his hand right over your shoulder so that you don't fall off.
As the van passes through Manchester, you spot the canals, houseboats parked on the side, you get reminded of your shared home.
"Look! That one looks like ours, same color too"
"Missing home already?"
"Kind of. Wish we could stop here, they've got the oldest library in Britain" You lay your head over the window, watching as landmarks pass by in a blur.
"They also have a serial killer too"
You scoff, "in this day and age?" Looking at Hobie's face, you don't see any lie to his comment. Your face falls, "wait, you serious?"
He shrugs, side eyeing you. You have absolutely no idea if he's joking or not, Hobie's good at acting like that, especially if he's teasing you.
"Hobie, you're joking right?"
"Hmm?"
"Is there actually a killer on the loose here?" You instinctively check the door locks.
He doesn't respond, adding to your fear. You completely miss the mischievous look on his face though.
"I don't want to stop here anymore" you mumble.
"We could always take a detour right now–"
"Nope, no thank you" you answer lightning quick.
He hides his smile behind his hand. Maybe he'll tell you all about it on the return trip.
An hour later you're sitting down outside a local restaurant in Chinatown, waiting for your food to arrive. The air blows softly, fluttering your lashes. You close your eyes, head resting on your hand, elbow over the table. You can see the faint outline of the Liverpool cathedral underneath the fog. It's gotten a few degrees colder since you've arrived, the streets shine from the earlier rain, petrichor wafts your senses.
Two bowls of warm noodles are placed in front of you. Side dishes, dimsum and xiaolongbao makes your stomach rumble at the sight and savory smell.
"Thank you," you smile at the waiter.
Wondering where Hobie went, lo and behold, he emerges, walking towards you with a paper cup of convenience store coffee. "Food is here, you still need coffee?"
He sits down across from you. "Yeah, needed another boost" Hobie scrunches his nose before standing up again, moving his chair right next to you, avoiding it from scraping the concrete. He sits back down, arm thrown over the back of your chair.
You look at him with a fond smile, heart eyes staring back at Hobie.
"What?" He challenges you with a raised eyebrow and faint smirk.
"Nothin'" you shove him lightly with your shoulder.
"Hm" he hums, you translate it to an 'obviously'
You eat with content, letting him steal some of your broth from your bowl, in exchange, he gives you a dimsum from his share.
You do your best at reading the booklet about Liverpool that you've bought before leaving the city while the vehicle moves.
"The guy who designed the cathedral is the same person who designed the red telephone box"
Hobie listens intently with coffee coursing through his veins, stomach full of food, he's properly fueled to drive for more than four hours to Glasgow. His band mates better be there already when you two arrive or he'll wring their necks.
There won't be any more stops until you get to the destination since there'll only be the highway to drive on. It stretches far, cars whirring past. With Sprawling green hills, and mountains curved around the highway makes the drive much more serene. Powerlines on the sides ground you, making it all seem familiar. The weather is foggy, blanketing the England to Scotland border.
The van rattles as Hobie swerves the car to the right. He plants his hand back in your knee, palm circling the curve of it affectionately.
"Ohh, they've got a beach" you stare at the picture of the nature reserve with its sandy windswept dunes, and grassy knolls.
"Add that to the list"
"Okay" you take out a pen from the glovebox, biting the cap off with your teeth, you scribble it on the back of the booklet where there's an empty space. Using your thighs as a table, you add the destination on your little list right under 'old thatch tavern'
"There," you hum happily.
"Is there anything on there 'bout Glasgow?" He kneads your knee with his knuckle.
"A tiny bit" you flip to the back, "they've got a mural trail, we might pass through it on the way. Ooh they also have a glasshouse."
You two pass the time by giving him facts about the places you've passed. Hobie listens in, adding his own knowledge to the mix. An hour later, you're both jamming to his music cassette. You try to make him laugh by banging your head to the song. Whipping your head too hard, you end up banging it on the dashboard.
With wide eyes and laughter threatening to spill out, Hobie comforts you with his palm over your forehead.
You two chat about with you feeding him crisps in between, exchanging stories and playing 'I spy' Hobie ends up winning with his enhanced vision, you challenge him again with a huff. He still wins the second and third round. His prize? Hobie tells you he's gonna hold onto it until you reach Glasgow.
At hour three, the car makes a metal groaning sound in the middle of the highway, you and Hobie looked at each other in fear for a second, silent and waiting for the van to keel over. You both sigh in relief after a few good minutes of silence with the car still running smoothly. Good thing it did because you have no idea how you'll make it to Glasgow if it did decide to just die in the middle of the road.
Before you know it, Hobie parks the van near the venue. Clicking off his seatbelt while you stretch in your seat. Hobie leans towards you, elbow right over the center console, he helps you with your seatbelt before promptly moving his hand to your cheek to face him.
"Can I help you?" You giggle, pecking the tip of his nose. "Are you claiming your prize?"
"This isn't my prize, lovey." He softly says against your lips. "That'll wait for later"
"Okay," you feel like your cheeks are on fire.
"This is my thanks" He meets your waiting lips, moving with yours. Cupping his jaw, thumb rubbing his cheeks, you breathe through your nose so the kiss would last longer yet it still leaves you breathless. You feel his hand around your nape, deepening the kiss further.
Hobie pulls away, seeing your pupils completely dilated, chest heaving for air.
"Thanks for what?" You ask breathlessly.
"Comin' with me" with his finger, he wipes the sheen off your lips, it stays there for a second, savoring, longing. For everything.
"You could've asked me to go anywhere and I still would've gone. As long as it's with you."
He answers with another kiss, laced with so much love and thankfulness, you feel it all through it.
A sudden knock has you pulling away, Hobie clicks his tongue at the intrusion. Turning around, he spots his bandmates whistling and wiggling their eyebrows. One was making a gesture that made you hide your face.
"You fuckin' wankers!" Hobie opens the door, slamming it on his friends' faces, they scatter, hooting and hollering, taunting him.
You watch as Hobie play fights with them, arm choking his bass player. With a lopsided smile on your face, excitement bubbles in your chest, the return trip and his promise makes you excited more than anything.
Tumblr media
A/N: this fic is long overdue that we're at 700 already! Thank you all so much for reading and interacting with my little stories! Love all 700 of you ❤️
294 notes · View notes
wonielvr · 6 months
Text
[12:49] – nishimura riki
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"hey, mind if I sit here?" riki asked quietly. the librarian hated him anyway, making a fuss like the last time he went to the school's library for a project would result in a one way ticket to hell from that grumpy old lady.
"nope. Why didn't you answer my calls?" you asked intriguingly, yet your face adorned a funny expression. The truth is you knew he wouldn't pick them up, that's just how riki is, all over the place, the kind of guy who would look for his sunglasses for hours unknowing of the fact they are on his head the entire time.
"I'm sorry, you know me... what did you call me for?" he stumbled over his words adorably. You patted twice on the gray cushioned seat next to you, signalling him to sit next to you.
"Do you remember that absolute jerk that entitled the seat next to me I saved for you in art class?" you asked snakingly. "Well he also claimed me as a partner for that stupid assignment! that freak!"
"unacceptable! I shall now call him and announce that my dear lady fell sick, and would like to do their assignment only along with those immune to the sickness, aka only her darling of a friend, me!" he went elegantly through the words with an unnecessary weird accent that was somehow meant to mock the british.
"well guess what, I confronted him, and now I'm forever stuck along the shadow of said darling of a friend. Say hello to your new assignment partner!"
"hey! Keep quiet there in the back, you pricks of the new generation," a hoarse voice suddenly called from under the big pile of books next to the two of you.
you and riki sure did have quite a laugh on account of the grouchy blob of sadness that was that woman, but after an expected long period of not being able to work, you managed to actually finish the assignment.
"did you know that I read-" he started confidently as if he was about to reveal the meaning of life to you.
"you can read?!" you interrupted him playfully. If he didn't like you as much as he does you would probably be left with a big red mark of his hand on your face for eternity.
he gave you a disappointed look in response and restarted the sentence. "I read about how physical closeness of friends through a hug or a kiss can reflect the way they view eachother romantically."
"I am absolutely sure you're making this up right now..." your sentence dragged while he leaned into you. Even though you were sure he was speaking nonsense, he was right after all. Your heartbeat was so loud in your ears you thought it would deafen you.
all the girls in the school theorised that riki is a majestic kisser, and they were all right. You never felt so passionate yet goalless, insisting yet high on cloud nine.
"out! now, you little turds! cumberworlds!" the woman reappeared out of nowhere once again, cursing as if she was a victorian woman well in the past. well, she seems old enough to be one.
229 notes · View notes
the-iceni-bitch · 1 year
Text
He Gives Me Everything and Tenderly…
Pairing: detective!bottom Bucky Barnes x younger!top male reader (Sarge and Officer Beefcake, NLLYL AU)
Words: ~5k
Summary; Bucky is just fine on his own. He really is. He’s used to it. Even after meeting you and thinking about you a whole bunch, he’s still fine. And he does not appreciate his friends’ meddling.
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (mentions of male masturbation, salad tossing, protected anal sex, spit as lube and lube as lube, kinda public sex), meet cute, reverse age gap, tall/beefy male reader, bottom!Bucky Barnes, Bucky is grumpy, hints of angst, love at first sight? lots of friendly teasing, m/m relationship, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!
A/N: Welp, this was something I wrote entirely in one sitting and I can’t say I’m mad about it at all. This is my first ever male reader fic and I am both incredibly nervous and very excited to share it with all of you! Big ass thanks to the absolutely amazing @howdoyousleep3 for hyping me up and providing some much appreciated perspectives (remember lube, people!)
I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!
Tumblr media
Bucky was exhausted. A long ass shift at the end of a long ass week and he was done, looking forward to going home and drinking a cold beer on his couch while he didn’t talk to anyone for a whole 48 hours. God, he hated people.
Except Darcy, and the cute little peach. Even though he wanted to get the fuck out of there he still stopped by the dispatch desk to chat with his girls and let them cheer him up a little.
“Hey Sarge!” He shook his head when Darcy called him that, her stubborn insistence to call him by his military rank after however many years just one of the many things that endeared her to him. “You look like shit, you finally getting out of here? Maybe gonna see someone special tomorrow?”
“The only people he’ll be seeing are Sam Adams and Johnnie Walker, maybe James Bond… hey!” The peach gave him an adorable scowl when he threw a paper clip at her, rubbing her cheek where it had hit her and sticking her tongue out at him before turning her attention back to her screen. “Don’t act like I’m not right, I’m there every time you drunk dial Nat while you’re binge watching old movies and lamenting your lack of a love life.”
“Tell your girlfriend to quit putting me on speaker or I’m gonna call her ex to chat from now on.” Bucky grinned when she rolled her eyes at him, bringing his attention back to Darcy and sighing when she was giving him a sympathetic pout. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine. I like being alone.”
“You’re lying, but fine.” Darcy shrugged at him, grinning when there was a sudden commotion at the doors and a mess of recruits came charging through into the hallway after Sam. “Hi Sammy, boys! Ooh, hey there beefcake, you run laps around all those slugs on the course again?”
“Maybe.”
Bucky choked when you were standing next to him, trying not to ogle you swathed in those gray sweats and feeling like the world’s dirtiest old man all of a sudden. “They’re getting better, starting to catch up. You shouldn’t call them slugs, Darce.”
“Please, like Wilson hasn’t called them worse, you’re too nice.” Peachy girl grinned when she turned in her chair again and saw Bucky looking like his jaw was about to hit the floor. “Have you met Detective Barnes, beefy?”
“Haven’t had the pleasure.” Bucky took in your name with an almost hysterical laugh when you reached out and shook his hand, not entirely sure what had come over him as he felt his neck getting unbearably hot and struggled to come up with something to say. “Well, I’ve gotta hit the showers, always lovely talking to you ladies.”
“Bye!” Both of them were grinning wickedly at Bucky once you were gone, chuckling when he just spluttered nonsense and looked at the floor. “What the fuck was that, Bucky?”
“Shut up.” He was flabbergasted, he’d never felt such an unbelievable attraction to someone right off the bat, except, once. But he never thought about that. “It wasn’t anything.”
“Oh, nothing at all?” Darcy was still grinning when Bucky growled at her, shaking her head and leaning back in her chair while the peach kept laughing. “So you weren’t staring at his ass when he walked away?”
“Of course not.” It had only been a little bit, you were so fucking tall your ass was impossible to miss, and so high and tight and… no, nope. “What the hell kind of nickname is beefcake, anyway?”
“You saw him.” Peach was practically cackling at this point, the redness on Bucky’s face so entertaining she was considering taking a photo to send to Nat. “The man is grade A USDA prime meat, what would you like us to call him?”
“You’re a couple of pervs.” Bucky just scoffed and ignored them when they told him it takes one to know one, flipping them off over his shoulder and almost forgetting his bag when he stormed out of the precinct to start his much needed alone time. “Inappropriate, gonna talk to HR about you two!”
If it had just been the one interaction, Bucky probably could’ve handled it. Yeah, he had jerked himself off thinking about your broad shoulders and tiny waist and that masterpiece of an ass, but only once, okay three times. But it was just over the weekend, he’d forget about you eventually.
Except for the fact that suddenly he was seeing you everywhere. Every damn time he was in the precinct, there you were, smiling that slightly crooked smile and laughing and making every person light up when you walked through the room. And in the fucking sweats every time, it was like torture. Torture that was made worse by the fact that Darcy and peach were always grinning at him like they knew something he didn’t, and they had apparently told Sam whatever they supposedly knew, so now that man was basically parading you in front of Bucky’s desk every chance he got and making him talk to you and get to see how fucking charming you were. He hated it.
“I do, I love cats!” Sam was chatting with you right in front of Bucky’s desk again and he was plotting how he could get away with murdering the man. “Have a little ginger idiot at home who has maybe two braincells, but he’s my baby.”
“Wow, that’s adorable.” Bucky almost growled at Sam when he grinned at him. “Bucky has a kitty of his own, don’t you, Buck?”
“Yes.” Sometimes he even hated his friends, this was ridiculous.
“I love that, knew you were a cat person.” Bucky almost groaned when you placed your hand on the desk so close to his, looking up at you through his lashes and trying so hard not to melt into his chair when he saw you smiling at him. “What’s her name?”
“Alpine.” You smelled so unbelievably good, Bucky had an incredible urge to lean up and bury his face in your neck, but managed to just turn the photo of his cat around to show you instead. “She’s three.”
“She’s gorgeous.” You winked and Bucky almost swooned, there was something wrong with him. “Shit, I’ve gotta get out of here, got a birthday party to get to. It’s always real nice talking to you, Detective.”
“You too.” Bucky swallowed thickly and shook his head when you walked away, his scowl coming back immediately when he saw Sam looking like he just ate a damn canary as he smirked at him. “Shut up.”
“Didn’t say anything.” Sam chuckled when Bucky just hunched over his paperwork and tried to ignore him. “Buuuuut… hoo boy, you like him.”
“I do not.” Murder was the only answer to these affronts. “He’s too young.”
“Bullshit, is peach too young for Nat?” Sam snorted when Bucky just grumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes at the man’s stubbornness. “You like like him, you need to get over that massive hang up, Barnes, it’s holding you back!”
“Man, fuck you!” Bucky jumped when he realized that Sam wasn’t there anymore, so he was just yelling at the bullpen, every member of the team giving him looks of varying amusement before they bent back to their work. “Sorry.”
It was a legitimate hang up, especially when it came to you. Because you reminded Bucky of him.
Specifically of when he was young, when Bucky first realized he was in love and overlooked all of his flaws and just wanted to be wrapped up in him all the time in spite of the fact the man would only look at Bucky like his old friend who he could tell about every single disgusting conquest he made. And that meant you were dangerous. Bucky refused to do that to himself again, it had taken him too long to get over that malicious bastard, and nothing had hurt him more than the realization that he had wasted so much time loving someone who barely gave a fuck about him. He didn’t care how sincere and charming you seemed, he wasn’t going to fall for that same shit all over again.
But it didn’t stop any of his friends from dragging you in front of him at every opportunity, and even though he was polite and listened to you and answered all your questions, it didn’t stop him from snarling at them as soon as you were gone. He didn’t care what they thought he needed, he was fine.
He wasn’t lonely. He didn’t wake up grinding his hips into his mattress after dreaming of sharing his bed with you. He didn’t wonder what you would look like with soft morning light falling across your face while both of your cats jumped on you and Bucky made you breakfast. They all needed to worry about their own lives and quit fucking with his.
Which is why he should have been suspicious as hell when Nat and her little peach and Darcy insisted on taking him out for drinks on a Friday night. All of them together. At a dive bar that was typically just cops. Like they didn’t usually go uptown and dress up.
“Well, look at that, is that Sam?” Darcy bounced on her toes and waved when she spotted Sam with all of his recruits, her and peach squealing while Bucky shot Nat an exhausted look. “Gosh, I completely forgot they’re celebrating the academy graduation, what are the chances?”
“Shocking.” Bucky couldn’t stop growling when Nat just shrugged at him. “I can’t believe they dragged you into their scheming, Romanoff.”
“They’re young and excited, it’s cute.” Nat wrapped her arm around Bucky’s shoulders and started pulling him towards the group. “Besides, you deserve someone nice, and to spend the night with someone besides Alpine.”
“Alpine doesn’t take up that much room on the bed, and I like to spread out.” Bucky just resigned himself to having a miserable night, even when you gave him an easy smile once you laid eyes on him and waved eagerly. “And he might not be nice.”
“Buck, you won’t know unless you give him a chance.” Nat sighed as she rested her chin on her best friend’s shoulder, pinching his cheek and trying to get him to at least give her a grudging smile. “And you know how good my asshole radar is, I’m getting no pings from the beefcake.”
“Yeah, alright.” Bucky steeled himself when you started walking his way, feeling a little tight in his chest and watery in his eyes as he did his best to give you a smile. “Hi.”
“Hi Detective.” Your smile got even wider when Nat introduced herself, shaking her hand warmly then turning back to Bucky and crossing your arms over your massive chest. “Can I get you a beer?”
“I don’t…” Bucky caught himself when Nat looked at him expectantly and blew out a deep breath. “Yeah, a beer would be great.”
“Fantastic, for you too?” You winked at Nat when she nodded before hurrying off to get their drinks with an undeniable bounce in your step that Bucky found he enjoyed very much.
“Listen, Buck.” Nat gave you a very thorough look while you waited at the bar, wrapping her arms around her girl when she came to sit on her lap and Darcy sat across from them. “Even if it doesn’t last, you’re a special kind of idiot if you don’t at least have sex with that man.”
“Jesus Christ.” Bucky felt himself blush up to his ears when all of the women just nodded enthusiastically and started detailing what the two of you should do to each other. “You three are worse than frat boys, oh my god.”
“C’mon, sarge…” Darcy snapped her mouth shut when you came back with Bucky’s and Nat’s drinks, giving Bucky a meaningful look and making a little circle with her thumb and forefinger then pushing her opposite finger through it while your back was turned until Bucky felt like he was in fucking high school. “Hi beefcake!”
“Hi Darce!” You were sitting so close to Bucky he could smell you again, he had to start chugging his beer so he didn’t reach out to bury his fingers in your hair. “I’ve always wanted to ask, why does she call you ‘sarge’?”
“Oh, it was my rank when I was discharged.” Bucky couldn’t handle the way you were looking at him, like he was the most interesting thing in the room, he wanted to fall into your eyes and get lost. “From the army. Darcy’s sister served with me, so she knew me then and the nickname stuck.”
“I didn’t know you served, my dad was in the marines.” You could see Bucky starting to tense up and bless you, you backed off, keeping that easy smile on your face while you nudged his foot with yours. “It’s okay, that’s not something we have to talk about right now, tell me about Alpine, how’s the little lady doing?”
“She’s- she’s good.” Something about the way you instantly pivoted the conversation and didn’t make Bucky feel like an ass for almost clamming up had him relaxing pretty much instantly, grinning back at you and rolling his eyes a little playfully when he thought about his little furry troublemaker. “She’s a brat, but good. Almost gave me a heart attack last week when she somehow managed to climb up to the ceiling beams in my apartment.”
“Oh shit! Really?” You chuckled warmly when Bucky just nodded and took another sip of his beer, plucking at the edge of the label on your bottle and leaning forward a little so you could hear him better. “She get down on her own or did you have to get a ladder?”
“Well, after six hours of pleading and begging, I did finally manage to entice her with some tuna.” Bucky kept watching your face closely, the earnestness he was so wary of constant and never wavering while you listened to everything he said intently. “She’s too smart for her own good, I swear.”
“Fuck, I can’t decide if my situation is better or worse.” You laughed when Bucky scoffed, pushing at his shoulder and shaking your head when he looked at you with mock offense. “No, I love my boy, but he’s a dumbass of epic proportions. The most worrisome thing he’s ever done is get his whole head stuck in a mason jar. Theodore is an idiot.”
“Theodore?” Bucky was vaguely aware of movement next to him after he emptied his beer and set down the bottle, but he couldn’t stop watching your lips move. “That’s adorable.”
“Aw, yeah, my niece named him.” Your smile got even wider somehow and it was making Bucky melt, another bottle of beer appearing seemingly out of nowhere on the table and immediately finding its way to his lips. “It’s her favorite chipmunk.”
Cats. Talking about your fucking cats was apparently the kick in the ass Bucky needed to let almost all his concerns about having anything with you go, letting himself relax and be easy while you told him all these sweet, endearing little things about yourself. How much you loved your niece and how much of a star she was at figure skating. How good you were at baking and you didn’t care what he said, you were baking him a loaf of sourdough to prove it. How you played three different instruments and spoke two languages. You were too goddamn interesting.
And you managed to get him to talk about himself too. How close he was with his sister and mother and how much he loved seeing them as often as possible. How he secretly enjoyed knitting and always made sweaters for the family at Hanukkah but would kill you if you told anyone about his hobby. How he collected old records and could spend whole days just listening to music and drinking good whiskey.
Bucky was more than a little thrilled that you seemed to be hanging on his every word and scooting closer to him until you were right next to him and your shoulders were practically touching.
He had lost track of how many beers he’d consumed by the time people started dancing, but he knew it wasn’t too many as he was just very pleasantly buzzed and staring at your plump, kissable, pillowy lips and wondering what it would be like to suck on them.
“Hey, James.” Bucky had just told you his first name and for some reason the fact that was what you were choosing to call him was making him dizzy. “You wanna dance with me?”
“Oh, um…” Bucky chewed on his lip while he thought it over, he had two left feet when he was sober, and he also wasn’t sure he would be able to control himself if you put your hands on him. “I don’t know…”
“Hey, no pressure.” You winked like you did every time you said something disarming and Bucky decided that he loved that about you. “Just wanted to ask, but if all you want is to talk, that’s a-okay.”
Bucky was struggling with himself. You barely seemed disappointed, it had maybe flashed across your face for a second, but he believed you when you said it was okay. You even leaned back against your chair to give him space, zero hints of malice in your expression and just that perfect, easygoing look that made Bucky feel like you were fine taking no for an answer and you would never hold it against anybody.
And for some reason, that finally sealed it for Bucky that you weren’t him.
“I wanna dance.” Bucky winced when he almost knocked over his bottle when he set it down, grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet so he could drag you towards the makeshift dance floor. “Let’s go.”
Your laugh made Bucky beam at you over his shoulder, humming along to the music and turning to face you once you were in the middle of it. His breath caught when you were right there, letting you frame his waist with your hands and pull him even closer while you started rolling your hips to the music. Bucky very quickly decided that he liked having your hands on him, shaking his head and gripping your wrists to keep you in place when you tried to lean back before he slid his palms up your arms and over your chest.
Somehow, even though he knew you were big, your massive size hadn’t fully registered in Bucky’s brain until he was in such close proximity to you. It’s not like Bucky was small by any means, he hit the weights, he never skipped arm day, he’d even been called beefy himself a few times. But you… goddamn. You were like nothing Bucky had ever seen before. He was starting to get woozy from it.
Then you ducked even closer and pressed your cheek against Bucky’s temple and he couldn’t help it, he gasped. He could feel your lips moving against his skin but he couldn’t hear anything you were saying, a low buzzing filling his ears while his fingers dug into your firm chest and he rolled his hips against yours. This was dangerous, he was not going to have sex with you without even a proper date, he wasn’t that easy.
He kept repeating it in his head over and over. When you slipped your arms around his waist and squeezed as you kept guiding his movements. When he buried his face in your neck and groaned when he finally got to breathe in your scent fully. When you nipped at the shell of his ear and made some kind of noise that sent a vibration through Bucky’s whole body. And especially when you grabbed his ass and gave such a dirty grind of your hips that made him feel how fucking hard and massive you really were.
It didn’t matter how much he repeated it though, it only took three songs before Bucky found himself with his back against a stall door in the bathroom with his pants around just one of his ankles and his toes barely brushing the floor while he practically sat on your face.
One of his knees was flung over your shoulder while you licked at his hole, his whole body shivering when you hummed against his skin and dug your fingers into his thighs and he didn’t even care that he was getting eaten out in a public bathroom and enjoying it quite loudly.
“God, I knew you’d be fucking sweet.” You growled but barely pulled back, gripping the thigh that was on your shoulder and pushing it up until it was pressed to Bucky’s side so you could see his face. “You taste so goddamn good, James, once I get you in bed I’m gonna make a full meal out of this ass, shit.”
“Oh… Jesus Christ.” Bucky could barely breathe when your mouth was on his hole again, he could feel your jaw working while you moved your lips and tongue like you were making out with him, all while you kept your intense eye contact and let his cock rest on your face like you didn’t even care. “Oh my fucking god.”
Bucky could feel your chuckle when a whine escaped from his throat without his permission, his eyes rolling when your tongue fluttered all around his twitching skin before you were dragging it over his hole again and sucking until Bucky almost squealed. But then your tongue punched into him and the squeal was ripped out of his chest, his breath heaving almost painfully while you fucked him with the thick muscle until his dick started leaking and twitching against your forehead. It was insane that you were so good at this, you were so young, but your mouth worked like you were a fucking pornstar and it had Bucky feeling some kind of way.
“You’re gonna let me fuck you, James.” It didn’t sound like a question, you were telling him, your face serious while you licked your way up his taint until you could nip at his balls while you slid a finger inside him. “I need it, need to feel you come on my cock, god, you’d better fucking hold it until I’m inside you or I’m gonna spank you, I swear to fucking god.”
“Yeah… yeah, oh my god, please.” Bucky felt like he was losing his mind when you sucked on his balls and pushed a second finger inside him, his legs shaking and his eyes rolling back in his head while he grabbed your hair and held on for dear life. “Oh shit… fuck me, I can hold it, I’ll be good, just fuck me.”
You leaned your cheek against his hip and kept grinning at him while you reached your free hand into your wallet to grab a packet of lube, chuckling when Bucky huffed at you when you ripped it open with your teeth and squirted it all over the fingers you were plunging into his ass.
“You brought lube with you?” Bucky was trying to remain huffy but it was difficult when you were scissoring his hole open so slowly and shit, it felt amazing. “What exactly did you think was going to happen tonight?”
“God, I dunno, James.” You looked meaningfully at the fingers that were currently knuckle deep inside him, wiggling them a little when you looked back up at him with a cocked eyebrow and snorting when he whined. “Would you prefer I didn’t have lube right now? Because I can stop…”
“No, don’t do that.” So much for not trying to seem desperate, Bucky was panting he needed you so bad. “I’m just… talking, I’ll shut up. I can be good.”
“Yeah? You’re gonna be a good boy for me James?” What were you doing to him? Bucky couldn’t help but whimper when you spat on your fingers to slick them up even more and added a third, nodding and rolling his hips into your hand when you just barely teased his sweet spot as you kissed the inside of his thigh. “Yeah you will, my good boy, opening right up for me.”
“Mmhm, yours, oh holy shit.” The addition of your fourth finger turned Bucky’s whole body into jelly, your hold on his thigh the only thing keeping him from crumpling to the floor when you licked a wide, flat stripe up the underside of his cock. “Holy fucking shit, pleasepleaseplease…”
“Shhh, don’t you worry, James, I’ve got you.” You groaned when he let go of your hair to shove his fist in his mouth when he gave you a tortured cry, slowly pulling your fingers out of him and setting his feet on the floor so you could stand. “Turn around for me, sweet thing.”
“Yes… yes sir.” Bucky let his eyes flutter closed when you kissed his temple and turned him around, pressing his cheek against the cool metal and arching his back when you placed one hand on his hip and used the other to pull out a condom. “I need it.”
“I know, handsome.” Your voice was muffled while you used your teeth to rip the wrapper open, nuzzling into the tendrils of hair that were resting against the back of Bucky’s neck so you could kiss him there while you rolled the condom over your length and emptied another packet of lube all over your dick. “You gonna call me sir while I fuck this sweet little ass?”
“Ye-yes… oh fuck!” Bucky practically screamed when your tip just barely slipped inside him, arching his back and whining when you wrapped your arm across his throat and growled in his ear. “Fuck… ‘s big, so big, fuck me.”
“You can take it, big guy, keep being good for me.” You grinned against Bucky’s cheek when he rose on his toes as you kept going, smacking his ass and chuckling when it made him clench as you increased the pressure on his neck. “You feel fucking incredible, Jesus. Been thinking about getting you like this since the first time I saw you, you know that? Did you think about me too, James?”
“N-no.” Bucky already felt extremely vulnerable while he was split open on only half of your cock, he didn’t need to admit to you that he had been dreaming about wrapping his legs around your tiny little waist while you fucked him slow and deep. “I didn’t.”
“Pretty sure you’re a liar.” You grinned and yanked his head back at the same time you gave a final snap of your pelvis and Bucky sobbed, his body shaking violently while you rested your hips against the plush curve of his ass and dragged your tongue along his jaw while you let him adjust. “That’s okay though, big guy, you can think about this. Now, I’m gonna apologize, because this is gonna be a lot faster than I would like, but we are in public.”
Bucky didn’t have any response except a yelp when you started driving your cock into him almost viciously, his breath punched out of his lungs each time your hips bounced off his ass while you sucked on his ear. He felt like he was about to explode, your cock driving into his swollen prostate each time you bottomed out until his balls started pulling tight to his body and his cock twitched. You must have felt the change since you dropped the hand that wasn’t attached to the thick arm that was currently choking him to grab his cock and start stroking him in time with your thrusts.
“Fuckfuckfuck…” Bucky felt like such a whore but he didn’t care, turning his head as much as possible so he could rub his nose against your cheek while he whined. “I’m so close, don’t stop.”
“I’ll give you whatever you want, James.” You groaned when his hole clenched around you, squeezing his cock and his throat at the same time and kissing the corner of his lips tenderly while you gazed into his eyes. “Gonna take care of you. Can’t wait to be able to take my time, enjoy you, god, could spend a whole fucking night in this ass, you’re so goddamn warm and tight. But I need you to come for me right now, James, make a mess on my hand, lemme make you feel good, c’mon.”
The thought of you in his bed and fucking him raw and open had Bucky tumbling over the edge of his climax with a shout, his desperate noises muffled by your lips when you smashed them to his as he quaked in your arms and shot his cum all over your fingers. He sobbed when you didn’t stop stroking him even once he was milked dry, his eyes rolling back when you throbbed inside him and almost lamenting the fact that you were filling the condom instead of pumping your cum deep in his guts and determined to get to the point when he would finally get to feel all of you. As soon as you were done you were bringing your cum soaked fingers to your mouth, keeping eye contact with Bucky as you sucked his cum off them slowly and groaning at his taste then pressing your lips to his again so you could share with him.
“Jesus fuck.” Bucky couldn’t think of anything else to say, smiling almost sheepishly at you after you had pulled out of him and tossed the condom, letting you turn him around and nuzzle at his cheek before you were bending to help him step back into his jeans.
“My sentiments exactly.” You gave him another one of those winks and he wasn’t even mad when he blushed violently. “You gonna be as big of an ass about me taking you on a real date?”
“I wasn’t an ass.” Bucky huffed when you stood back up and wrapped your arms around him, nipping at your bottom lip and grinning when you growled playfully at him. “I was wary.”
“Sure.” You kissed him slow and deep and smiled against his lips when he melted into you before pulling back so he could breathe. “Pretty sure the girls and Sergeant Wilson would agree with my assessment, but we can use your word.”
“Oh shit, they’re still out there.” Bucky screwed his eyes shut and moaned at the thought of the commentary he was going to have to endure, shaking his head when you chuckled and opened the stall door to start pulling him back to the bar. “Can’t we just climb out the window or something?”
“Yeah, I don’t think either of us could fit through that window, James.” You nodded at the tiny one by one glass square and kissed his temple when he sighed defeatedly, holding his hand and letting him follow you when you opened the door. “Besides, if you think I’m not going to enjoy showing you affection in public, I’ve got some bad news.”
Bucky’s retort was cut off by an absurd amount of hollering when you opened the door, his face getting unbearably red and the desire to either tell all of your friends to shut the fuck up or just book it out of the bar overwhelming. But then your arm was around his shoulders and your lips were pressed against his temple, and maybe he could put up with his friends being smug rowdy assholes for the rest of the night if you kept smiling at him like that.
730 notes · View notes
yevmarie · 27 days
Text
Light My Fire | Chapter 7
Masterlist
< Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 >
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader
Word count: 2.3k
Pronouns: you, she/her
Warnings: angst, mentions of depression, swearing, mentions of physical abuse towards other people, detailed description of typical TWD violence, differences from the main plot may occur, bad English (not my first language).
Taglist: @your-shifting-gurl @bae-live-0 @richardsamboramylove55 @deansapplepie @snailss @denisecabrera @dreamtofus @duckybird101
Tumblr media Tumblr media
You were sitting near the tent, trying to occupy your mind with the book you had taken at the beginning of the outbreak when you left home. The novel was so good that you binge-read it after Rick got to the hospital. That was the only thing that distracted you somehow, almost the cure for the hours spent crying after calls with Lori, who always said the doctor's forecast had been discouraging.
Now, everything was different. Although you reunited with your friend, other things were bothering you. Thoughts rushed after every sentence being read.
Is Merle alive? Will the group come back? Should I tell everything to Rick? But that fucker Shane almost killed me today. Shit! The neck hurts so much I'd probably have bruises forming a 'necklace' in a day. Shane is scaring the hell out of me. Why is he doing that to me? Did I deserve it after all my love given to him? I think I deserve just nothing good. If any good is even left in this world…
You cursed to yourself, noticing that familiar Depression FM finding the 'right' radio wave in your mind. The host today is so cruel; he plays that shitty song with the lyrics derived from your brain. And that fucking cassette tape is broken, repeating every verse again and again. You knew what to do in such cases.
"Ms. Y/LN, there's one technique that helps to get rid of repetitive unhealthy thoughts. But it needs practice as any of them. So close your eyes and imagine a bus stop, some familiar one to you. Perhaps near your work. This must be the place you know well to add realism to your brain."
You put the book aside and leaned back on the tree to relax your body. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and imagined the bus stop near your office. This is a busy street full of office workers fussing around and cars honking.
"Good. Now imagine the bus you are waiting for."
You are standing in your uncomfortable office outfit, praying to catch the bus quicker and get home. And here it is!
"When it arrives, come up to it."
You make several steps, slightly losing balance as some teenage girl pushes you, aiming to get in faster than you to take a seat.
"The doors are opening, and you get in but notice one unpleasant thing… The people inside only talk about you. About your insecurities. They literally repeat your thoughts out loud, saying them to you in your face."
"You don't deserve love," an old grumpy lady says, looking at you with side eyes.
You take a step further, aiming for the part of the bus with fewer people, finding a man wearing total black: a leather jacket, jeans, massive boots, and bike gloves. He is saying nothing to you. He's not even looking at you, listening to whatever music is playing in his earphones.
"Love? Don't be ridiculous," the teenage girl who had pushed you before chuckled. "She just deserves nothing good."
Another step up to the man when he finally turns to you. Pale blue eyes, three-day stubble, a bit outgrown haircut, two cute moles on the face, one above his thin lips. Although his frame is wide and the outfit is brutal, he doesn't seem like that. He's calm.
"Daryl?" you whispered, standing up too close to him, the haunting scent mixed of his cologne, leather, and tobacco hitting your brain, sending waves of excitement through your veins.
"Yeah, talking about Daryl," a clerk sitting near you, reading a newspaper, caught your attention, "He thinks you are useless."
"Reckless," a woman cooing to her baby corrected the clerk.
"He talks to you out of pity," another voice said.
"He's not interested in you," added yet another.
All the hurtful voices meshed together, making your tears swell in your eyes. Daryl took off his earphones and passed them to you. You plugged them in and heard… Nothing! Except the silent echo of your heartbeat. You noticed people were still talking to you but couldn't hear them. Daryl cupped your face with his calloused, warm palms, still looking into your eyes. His gaze was calm, gentle, and loving. He leaned closer, narrowing the space between your faces, looking down at your lips; his breath tickled your sences as you savored the moment with anticipation.
"Ms. Y/LN, after hearing everything the passengers have told you, would you get off the bus?"
"No," you whispered, closing your eyes and feeling Daryl's lips touching yours in a sensual kiss.
Tumblr media
FUCK!
You opened your eyes and threw the book away towards the tent.
"So, have I fallen for Daryl?" you asked yourself, desperately sighing, as surely daydreaming about the hunter wasn't planned, when suddenly you saw a familiar woman figure approaching you - Lori.
"Y/N, can I ask you to look after Carl and Sofia?" the woman's expression was concerned, obviously stressed out by something. You only nodded in consent, not wishing to talk, and stood up to go for the children. But your hope of no dialogue with the woman was dispelled in a second when she gently grabbed your forearm.
"We need to talk, Y/N."
"Enough talking for me today," you mumbled and stepped forward but were stopped again by Lori's touch.
"Please," she begged sincerely. "I… I'm really sorry for all that," her voice shaky. "I didn't know you still had feelings for him."
"You never asked," your response was just a guillotine, cutting off all potential reasoning.
"If you had only told me before… Perhaps I'd still be devastated, but I knew you were fair to me. And after some time, I'd accept it," you looked at your crying former friend and felt the pain hit your chest.
"Look, I'm not aiming to hurt you. Just trust me, it doesn't bring me any satisfaction. I'm not a monster. I just want to let you know I've always expected some tricks from Shane but not from you. Because you know what? I've always thought friendship is stronger. Love just comes and goes. But you betrayed me."
"Okay, okay," Lori nodded, sobbing, and was going to walk away, but you stepped aside and appeared on her way.
"I could overcome it and forgive you one day. But if Rick doesn't… He just doesn't deserve all of this."
"He'll never know," her answer outraged you. She was so sure you wouldn't tell Rick.
And honestly, she was right and wrong at the same time by saying this. You face the dilemma of telling Rick everything you know and destroying his family and friendship with Shane. Or you just step back and lose another close person like Rick because you'd not be able to even look into his eyes and act like everything is going fine and finally betray him by keeping silent. You didn't know what to do, and this tortured you.
"Then I'll just be nice to you for the love of Rick and Carl. I can't offer more; I'm sorry," you turned around and walked toward the campfire, leaving Lori alone. "I'll look after Carl and Sofia." 
Tumblr media
Hours later, when you were spending time with the children, the camp was shocked by another event: Shane beat up Ed after he hit Carol. You felt sorry for the woman and reasoned her to have her rest, though you had planned otherwise before, and took your duty to help in the kitchen and stew the squirrels for the group. 
It was getting darker; the group was having dinner, but no one returned from the run to Atlanta. You saved the portions for the men and started cleaning the place you called the kitchen. You couldn't have your rest; otherwise, you would go crazy. Or eat as the food stuck in your throat again. Your nerves were being torn to shreds. 
But Amy's wrenching scream cut off the silence you mistakenly considered agonizing.
"Walkers!" people yelled. 
The chaos burst in seconds, resulting in fussing, cries, and shooting. The latter bothered you the most as it was uncontrollable, and you were scared to take a slug. You ran to the table and took a knife, scanning the situation around. Lori and Carl were hiding behind shooting Shane; that's good. You were looking for Carol and Sofia, who were near Shane as well but were more vulnerable to attack. 
You were going to run to them but heard upcoming rasps just near yourself. Turning around, you stabbed the walker's head, hearing the gut-wrenching sound of tearing skin and breaking skull. The blood spraying on your face and the smell almost made you vomit. The body fell on the ground when another walker approached you, snapping its teeth and stretching its arms to you. You kicked it in the chest so you had more space for maneuvering, swaying your arm holding the knife to damage the skull of the lying dead. 
You stood up, taking a deep breath and wiping the sweat off your forehead. Other shooting noises were reaching the camp. You heard Rick's voice calling his family when you fell, being pushed down to the ground. Your chest took a pasting by falling flat on the ground, and the air from your lungs was beaten away. You realized the snapping teeth were inches from your skin, so at least you needed to push it away from you to kill, but the body was so heavy you couldn't make a move. 
Suddenly, you felt the weight above was lifted from you, thrown somewhere away, and shot, so you jumped out of your skin, instinctively closing your ears. Then, your body was lifted easily as if you were a featherweight. An arm tugs around you, pushing your back into someone's body. 
"Ya okay?" you know this gruff voice.
You quickly nodded and squizzed his forearm, thanking god Daryl returned to the camp. 
"Stay behind; it's clear there," the archer freed you from his hug and continued shooting the dead. 
Tumblr media
Several minutes passed when the last walker was down. You were panting, trying to catch your breath, and dropped to your knees as your muscles were aching. You looked back and saw Rick hugging his family. Carol and her daughter were safe, but the field around the camp was covered with dead flesh — the bitter payment for your close people to be alive. 
"Y/N," you heard Rick approaching you, helping you stand up, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," you nodded, standing up, but your legs were wobbling, so the sheriff had to help you keep your balance by holding you by your back.
"Where's Merle?" 
"He escaped, but we couldn't find either him or his body."
The hope died in your eyes, turning your gaze to as black as night. 
"Y/N, can you tell me something?"
"Hm?" you hummed, fluttering your eyes open as if you were returning from a trance. 
"Did Merle and you..?" 
"No," you cut short his question and were trying to walk away, but Rick stopped you, standing next to you, gently holding your shoulders. 
"Is it because of Daryl?" by an odd coincidence, the name mentioned made you stiffen so that Rick's touch read your tensity.
"What do you mean?" 
"Do you like him?" 
You stiffened even more, and the opportunity to lie about something faded. Considering you were talking to the sheriff, who was too good at reading people. Furthermore, when they were close ones. 
"No. We just became friends," you put his arm aside, hinting you'd like to walk away. This dialogue was leading to some strange course. "Rick, I wanna sleep, let's talk tomorrow, okay?" 
Your friend nodded and stared after you walking away. 
"So, why do you sleep in Daryl's tent?" you stopped and turned around to the man. 
"Because you got back, and there's not enough space for four of us."
"You had already moved to Dixons. There was no stuff of yours. Or you are a medium." 
"Rick, is it cross-examining?"
"I just wonder why you behave so strangely. If you like some of the brothers, it changes everything. I'll insist on searching. If you don't have feelings but still hang out with them when your family is here. Then I assume you'd had some fighting with Lori and…"
"Hey man," Shane appeared out of nowhere, approaching Rick. "Let's discuss our plans for tomorrow. We need to do something with the bodies." 
You mentally thanked your ex and quickly walked to the tent. Getting inside of it, you noticed the archer was already sleeping. Perhaps he was so tired he didn't give a damn where he was going. And at least it's his tent. You grabbed your blanket to move to Merle's, but Daryl's voice stopped you.
"Ain't sleeping. Get inside. It's better to stick together if another horde is coming. Not gonna touch ya," the hunter's sleeping voice made some magic to you as you got in and laid down back to him without hesitation. You covered yourself with the blanket, but it was too much already as you were flushed red, and all your blood was running in hot impulses through your body.
"Is it okay?" Daryl wanted to reassure himself you were fine with this. 
"Yeah," you replied. 
"So, if Rick noticed, then when will you accept you have fallen for Daryl, Y/N?" you told yourself and shut your eyes tightly as if it would help you fall asleep faster.
< Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 >
72 notes · View notes