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thelastofharrington · 1 year

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the hard with the soft

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

A/N: hello! this is my first joel fic that i've ever written! i'm really excited about it and made this whole blog just to post it lol. there is plenty of smut in this so mdni! let me know what you think :)

summary: Falling in love with Joel Miller was something that happened to you little by little, and then all at once. To say the chemistry was immediate would be a complete lie. At first, you couldn’t even tell if he wanted you around, let alone wanted you in his bed. No, when he rescued you that day from one of Bill’s well-laid traps, you were certain he would never see you as anything other than a nuisance. A pest he had to take care of.

Oh how wrong you were.

tags: praise, porn with context, slow burn, mutual pining, joel is soft on the inside, reader is down bad fr, non-canonical, rip bill and frank, takes place a year/two years after the show starts, love in the midst of an apocalypse is beautiful y'all

word count: 7k

i hope you enjoy!!!

Part 1: The Stumble, 1 Year Ago

You were hungry. Starving, even. You had been left behind from your group of outcasts three days ago (or had it been four? You were too exhausted to keep track of the time) when you twisted your ankle and couldn’t keep up the pace. You weren’t overly friendly with your most recent pack of ragtag survivors, mostly seeing them and each other as a mere means of survival rather than company. You hadn’t known friendliness or love from your packs since your parents got bit five years ago. Your parents couldn’t have known that three years after they brought you into the world it would fall apart, nor did they know they would both die protecting you from that same world they blindly brought you into. It’s been hard, but you’ve made it through and it actually was your birthday this week, the big 24. What a way to celebrate – being abandoned by the only thing keeping you safe and becoming walking bait for any clickers nearby. But still, you had fairly good spirits all things considered. Until you fell into an eight foot hole.

It was in this hole that you realized a couple of things:

You’ve stumbled upon a domesticated piece of land. Someone somewhere near had the time, safety, and resources to dig an eight foot hole.

If your ankle wasn’t sprained before, it was definitely sprained now considering how you landed on it.

You might have just fallen into your grave.

It was a series of progressively worse realizations, to say the least.

Time had already felt like a concept out of your grasp for the last 20 years, but now there was truly no way of knowing if you had been down there 20 minutes or two hours when a shadow was cast on you. A man-shaped shadow. A man-shaped shadow with a gun.

The gun was pointed right at you, the sun casting a halo around this giant man’s head. He towered over you as he held his stance firm and still. No one said anything as you both stood, unwavering.

“I come in peace?” You finally choke out, unsure of what you could possibly say to save your own life right now.

He doesn’t move, just croaks “How’d you find this place?” You notice the fragments of a Southern accent, nearly lost to the wear and tear of an apocalypse.

You clear your throat and try to muster up the courage to speak with conviction. “My group abandoned me when I twisted my ankle early this week. I’ve just been aimlessly wandering.” You pause, unsure of if the next sentence will be your last, “This ankle of mine really hurts by the way. Your hole here isn’t really helping, considering I landed on it.”

You see him move his head out from behind the gun and look down at you slightly, then he moves back to position. “Are you armed?”

“No, I’m barely legged.”

He does not laugh.

“That’s something we call a joke, you know, since I can barely walk and all.”

His weight shifts again and he finally puts down the gun. “I’m going to help you out, but after that you better see yourself out of here. I don’t want any more of this and I don’t want any of your friends wandering this way either.”

“I don’t have any friends. I don’t have any family. I’m just me.”

He scoffs, “Sure, kid.”

“I’m also not a kid. I’m 24 years old and I’m hungry and my ankle hurts and why do you even have this hole anyway?!” You notice yourself turning hysterical but you don’t even care. You’re unarmed and you’re hungry and you’re all alone for the first time in a very, very long time. This man holds all of the power to help you and you’re not going to give up until he does.

He doesn’t respond immediately, but when he does it’s in the form of him reaching down into his utility belt and pulling out a rope, and throwing you the other end. “You get one meal.”

You didn’t even know a meal was on the table, so you hobbled your way behind him as fast as you could. You ended up at a white, well-kept house behind an industrial strength gate. “How the hell did you find this place?”

He doesn’t answer right away, making you worried that you said the wrong thing somehow. Finally, when you’ve reached the front door, he huffs “It belonged to a friend.”

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Part 2: The Fall, 6 Months Ago

That one meal turned into two days which turned into a week which turned a month which turned into six. You owe most of your thanks to Joel’s 14-year-old companion (contraband?), Ellie. She was instrumental in convincing Joel to allow for you to stay. If it weren’t for her, the first dinner would have easily been your last. But she was so taken with you and excited to have another girl let alone someone under 30 hanging out with them. Not that she didn’t adore Joel, or him her in his own little ways. But you were just such a breath of fresh air to her that Joel couldn’t help but allow for you to stay.

Your role in their little group wasn’t quite clear. Joel did all of the hunting and patrolling necessary to keep this little slice of paradise exactly that, paradise. Ellie’s only job was to stay safe, and you decided to pick up the slack wherever you could. Dishes, clothing repairs, cooking dinner. Ellie didn’t need a nanny by any means, but you basically became a live-in housewife. With none of the perks, despite your daydreaming.

The last six months had been tumultuous for you to say the least. The presence of Joel constantly by your side made a lot of things very difficult. Like focusing, or keeping the weakness out of your knees, or the heat out of your dreams. He was hot, there was no denying it. If he hadn’t been waving a gun in your face the moment you met, it probably wouldn’t have taken you until the end of your first dinner to realize this. But not only was he hot, he was stoic. He was still and firm, a guiding light in this uncertain world you and Ellie both came of age in. He had a cold exterior, but judging by the way he treated Ellie, and eventually you, you knew there was some warmth bubbling beneath the surface. You knew he carried immeasurable hurt on his back, Ellie had told you about his daughter, Tess, Bill and Frank, and that was only the things Ellie knew. Who knew what was in the even further past of this sturdy man. The big, beautiful, brooding man who took care of you and Ellie despite his best instincts.

You had only very recently gotten over your sprained ankle, taking a full 12 weeks to heal from the severe sprain. This was another saving grace for you in the beginning. Joel liked to pretend that he was heartless, but he still didn’t have the heart to send you on your merry way with only ¼ of your appendages working to their full capacity. He tried to kick you out after your first dinner despite Ellie’s whining, only to be able to only stomach three of your hobbling paces out the door.

“Oh for God’s sake get back in here why don’t ‘ya,” You remember him sighing.

He took such good care of your ankle, at night when you’re all alone you can still feel the way his calloused fingertips massing you so gently. The hard with the soft; the essence of Joel Miller.

“Does this hurt?” He asked four weeks in, as you sat for your nightly ankle exam. Starting your very first night, after dinner he would take your foot into his lap and exam it and massage it carefully for upwards of 15 minutes. You weren’t a doctor, but you knew enough to know that a nightly exam was excessive and unnecessary. But even at the very beginning you knew this was his way of showing you that he cared, that he wanted you safe. It was around this time that you realized that Joel had a soft spot for stragglers, for the outcasts who just needed somebody. Between you and Ellie, that much was clear, and it just made you fall faster for him than you thought possible.

This realization and the true weight of it didn’t come to a head until one day where you decided to go out and try and collect some berries from the woods on the other side of the gate for a pie you wanted to make Joel for his birthday. You had seen him do it a million times, you thought you could get away with it. Until you heard that sound.

Everything was fine, you had collected your blueberries and you were on your way, and then you heard it. You hear it before you see it, but soon enough you see it all the same. You had your gun with you, but your reaction time was nowhere near as fast as Joel’s was. The clicker starts stalking your way when you lose yourself to your impulses and just start running. You know better than to scream, but you get close. You run and you run and you’re looking back to make sure you’re not going to get caught when you smack into something six foot and massive. Joel’s chest. After you make eye contact you look up and make eye contact with him. He’s silently fuming, fists white knuckling around his gun.

You go to speak when he stops you, “Don’t.” He whispers right before he shoots the clicker dead with no hesitation or struggle. The walk back to the house is silent, and not because he’s afraid of being found by the clickers.

The slam of the front door is the first sound you’ve heard in minutes. He whips around and you swear you can see smoke coming out of his ears. “What the hell was that?!”

“I-” You start.

“You know what? I don’t want to know. I can’t hear from you right now.”

You say nothing.

“That was so completely careless! Do you not understand how we do things around here? You stay, I go. It’s as simple as that.” He’s pacing at this point, waving his hands wildly as he works through his anger with you. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

You pause, “I thought you didn’t want to hear from me.”

He stops pacing and looks at you, “Ha ha ha very funny. You’re a real smartass, you know that? If I hadn’t been there God knows what would have happened. You could have gotten killed!”

You look down at your feet, trying to hold back tears before you look back up. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

He sighs, physically decompressing. “Well you went about it all the wrong way. I don’t need anything nice from you, you do enough around the house and with Ellie anyway,” He pauses, “I don’t know what I would have done with myself if you had gotten hurt.” He says this last part in a whisper under his breath, barely able to look at you.

“But it’s your birthday!” You choke out a sob. You’re so mad at yourself for putting yourself in danger and upsetting the man who saved your life six months ago.

“What? No it’s not.” He says, confused.

Then, a lightbulb goes off for both of you as your jaws drop and you yell in unison, “ELLIE!”

Turns out, Ellie just wanted some pie.

================================================

Part 3: The Catch, Present Day

A lot can change in six months. But also, a lot can stay the same. You’ve grown very accustomed to the life you live here, in this big beautiful house, with your small makeshift family. Ellie is 17 now and makes Joel take her on test drives in Bill’s old truck around town. Joel has definitely gotten used to having you around, and even converted Frank’s old studio into a bedroom for you a couple of months ago. A real upgrade from living on the couch for the first eight months.

Life is pretty standard, all things considered. You’ve heard more stories about the men who ran the house before you and you think they’d be happy to have people like you living a life like this in the home they built together. It’s a beautiful thing, to have some normalcy in a world fallen apart.

You spend a lot of time with Ellie, who has developed a crush on one of the QZ traders. She’s tall and lean and tougher than all hell, you can see what Ellie sees in her even if you’re personally afraid of her. This realization on Ellie’s part has prompted a lot of impromptu sleepovers in your art studio turned bedroom, almost all of which are ended by Joel standing in the doorway going on about keeping quiet out of respect for your elders. You have to remind him every time that you too are an elder.

It’s also the summer time which means there’s lots to do outside. You never really learned how to tend to a garden so Joel’s been teaching you how to take care of the one Frank started all those years ago. You two keep it up with the seeds you get from trading with those select few still at the QZ, and it’s been a really special time between the two of you. It also doesn’t hurt that he prefers to work in the garden shirtless.

“Hello? Hello? Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?”

You snap out of the trance you were in from watching him hoe or row or whatever it is he’s doing with that gardening tool that makes his arms and back look like that. “What? Sorry, I zoned out.”

“You’re never going to learn if you keep daydreamin’ like that.” He gruffs before starting his spiel on strawberries all over again.

You really can’t get a read on him. Sometimes he treats you as an equal, someone who has a shared interest in their work and in the safety of Ellie, but other times he treats you like you’re a toddler that can’t help but knock their head on the corner of a coffee table. He claims it’s because he doesn’t want you hurt, which you admit gives you butterflies, but if anything between you is ever going to transpire (like you desperately need it to), he can’t see you as just some kid. You’re turning 25 next week, dammit. You deserve some respect. But you’re just not sure how to get it, how to make him see you as a true equal. Someone he can rely on, put his faith into, and even care about on a deeper level.

The opportunity of a lifetime presents itself one day in the form of something actually rather unfortunate. Joel finally gets hurt.

It’s a pretty normal day until then. You and Ellie practice driving, you journal, listen to some old records. It’s too hot to spend too much time outside, but you definitely make sure to check on the strawberries considering the lecture you got from Joel last week. It’s midafternoon when he comes straggling in, clutching his left arm in his hand and seething through the pain.

You immediately jump up from the couch, “Oh my God, what happened?”

He sinks down on the chair next to the piano, not looking at you. “Nothing, just go get the first aid kit.”

That answer is nowhere near good enough, but you go and get it anyway. Ellie is out in the backyard and doesn’t hear the commotion. When you return with the first aid kit you press on, “You have to tell me what happened so I can know how to treat you.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat as you kneel in front of him, opening the kit. “It’s nothing, just gonna need a couple stitches.”

You pry his right hand off his arm and see a deep gash on the bottom of his forearm. It’s not too long, but it sure is deep. “Jesus Joel, what the hell happened?”

He shifts and sighs once more, whispering something under his breath that you can barely hear.

“What was that?” You ask earnestly.

He whispers again, slightly louder this time, but he’s talking too fast to make out what he said.

“Joel, come on. What happened?” You’re tending to his wound now anyway, but you really do need to know.

He sighs, bringing his free hand up to pinch between his eyes. Avoiding eye contact with you he finally says, “I was walking back from trading when I saw a flower. I wanted to get that flower for you for your birthday. With my shears in one hand, I leaned down to get it, and I lost my balance and I tripped and I fell on top of the shears and they stabbed me.” He pauses, “There, you happy? Now that I’ve humiliated myself…” He trails off.

You’re too stunned to speak. You just keep staring at him, unmoving.

“If you’re not going to fix this up, give me the kit so I can do it myself,” He huffs at you.

You swallow and smile at him, trying to find the words. “Joel Miller, you secret softie. You maimed yourself in the pursuit of trying to do something nice for me, the girl you claim not to want around.”

He locks eyes with you for the first time during this conversation, “I never claimed that.”

Silence hangs in the air for a moment until you clear your throat and turn your attention to the wound at hand (or should you say, at arm?). “Let’s get this stitched up, ok?”

“If Ellie asks, tell her I did something super manly and tough to get these stitches, ok?”

You let out a laugh and nod, “Sir, yes sir.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been three days since Joel hurt himself trying to do something nice for you and it has not left your mind even for a moment. You’re laying in bed wide awake, tossing and turning wondering what this could mean. I never claimed that he said so earnestly to you. I never claimed that. The four words echo in your brain like a megaphone. It’s been torture being around him as if nothing has changed. As if you haven’t changed on a molecular level after those four words rearranged every fiber of your being. It may be nothing, but it also could be something. It could be the that takes what you’ve been craving for almost a year to leave your daydreams and become a reality. Maybe he meant it in a friendly way, maybe even in reference to your working relationship of raising Ellie and keeping her safe. But if that were the case, why did it feel like all of the air in the room stood still? Why did he look to you like he was a puzzle that only you could solve?

Cordiality be damned, you had to know the answer.

You sneak out of bed and up the stairs, careful not to wake Ellie in her room on the first floor. Joel may be modest, but he still took the primary bedroom upstairs when they moved in. You avoid the creaking steps up the stairs artfully and end up at his door. It is only at this point you realize how crazy this is. You’re standing outside his door in the middle of the night with no plan and, frankly, no pants on. This is a recipe for disaster that you’ve quickly talked yourself out of. You go to turn around when the door swings open, Joel looking alert. His body visibly relaxes when he sees that it’s just you, and then tenses once more as his eyes trail down our body to the long length of your bare legs.

“What are you-” “Sorry I was just-” You say at the same time.

You laugh, trying to break the tension. “Sorry, I was just leaving.”

“What are you doing up here, Y/N?” His body was pressed up against the side of the doorway, blocking it almost entirely with his broad stature. Shoulders resting on the side of the doorway, arms and feet crossed, he looked in no hurry to get you out of there.

“It doesn’t really matter, I answered my own question. I’ll just head back downstairs,” You go to walk away when he grabs your arm lightly, turning you back to face him.

“Must’ve been some curiosity if it’s keeping you up at night.” You’ve never heard him talk like this. Not just the words he was saying but how he was saying them, they were smooth and slow and rich like molasses. It instantly made your mouth dry up and your knees weaker.

“I um, I was just wondering-”

“Yes?” He prompted, his hand still on your arm. Had he ever touched you before this? Surely you would have remembered the heat.

You look him in the eyes and see a glint, even in the darkness. This spark of something gives you the courage to move along. “I was just wondering what you meant by saying you never claimed you didn’t want me around.”

His hand drops from your arm and the heat is replaced by an instant rush of cold in his absence. He looks away from you and doesn’t speak.

Fearing you said the wrong thing you cower and turn to walk away once more. How could you have been so stupid? This isn’t just a matter of personal politics, this is a matter of survival. You have no one besides Joel and Ellie and if you get kicked out for bringing feelings into what is a basic need for shelter, food, and water, you will never forgive yourself.

You’re almost to the stairs when you hear him rumble, “I just meant that I have always wanted you around.” You whip around and see him looking at you, his gaze trailing down your body and then all the way back up again. “I want you here. Always have.”

Not moving towards him you speak, “Then why do you act like I’m some sort of helpless child? Why do I not have any real responsibilities? I could be out there, with you, trading and gathering intel. But instead I get, what, strawberries?”

“You don’t get it.” He looks down and shakes his head.

You walk back over to him, softly, so as not to spook him again. “Then help me understand.”

He looks at you with a softer gaze this time, “I keep you here, away from all of that, because I can’t risk you getting hurt,” He pauses for a moment before continuing, “It would kill me.”

You’re stunned. “Joel,” You start before he lifts a hand and cuts you off.

“And I give you things like strawberries because I want you to have a chance at a good life, a simple life. One I can’t promise you forever but can promise you for right now. One I know you don’t even remember having.”

Your heart is beating immeasurably fast inside your chest. You never considered that these menial tasks were actually normal, and good. Cleaning up after dinner, growing strawberries, talking about crushes with Ellie. In the midst of wanting to prove yourself, you completely forgot to take stock of all that Joel had given you already. All the things people dream about in this day and age.

You reach a hand up to touch his face, “Thank you. Thank you for giving me something good,” You pause, “I wish I could give you something good in return.”

He leans his head into your hand and closes his eyes, letting out a contented sigh. He turns his head to kiss the palm of your hand, “You are my something good,” he says so low you almost miss it.

But you don’t miss it. You hear it loud and clear. You hear him loud and clear for probably the first time since you’ve met him. He is stoic and strong and brooding and brave, but he is also caring and thoughtful and safe. He is the hard with the soft, and he’s been giving you both all this time right under your nose.

You decide to do something risky. You lean in for a kiss. You put your hopes for survival at the back of your mind and for the first time in forever you prioritize living.

It doesn’t take more than two seconds for Joel to pick up on what you’re doing and reciprocate. His arms immediately move from crossed over his chest to around your waist, pulling you deeper into the kiss. He pulls you so deep you cross the threshold of his bedroom, kicking the door shut on your way in.

“Be quiet or you’ll wake Ellie!” You half scold, half giggle as you make your way towards the bed.

“Sorry!” He giggles back. Joel Miller. The Joel Miller giggled into your lips. You could hardly believe your ears.

If his words were like molasses, his kiss was just as sweet. Not too pushy, but with enough force to let you know that he was in charge. He guides you to the mattress with his body and his mouth, making you feel like you’re flying. You’re sprawled out with your legs over the edge of the bed when he finally pulls away and stands before you.

You look up at him with hooded eyes and heavy breaths, “Why’d you stop?”

He runs his hands through his hair, “I just never want to forget this.” And he dives back down to you, not giving you a moment to respond.

When he comes back his kiss is still sweet, but with a heat you’ve never experienced before. Granted, all of your past experiences were minimal, probably in the back of an abandoned, decaying car, and in the midst of an apocalypse, but you knew enough to know that it didn’t normally feel like this.

You part your legs so he can insert his body between them, propping his arms on either side of your head as he kisses you deeply. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer to you, needing as much of him on you as possible.

“Somebody’s eager, huh?” He asks you between kisses.

Your resolve is officially broken, you’re laying it all out on the table. “You just have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

He pulls back to look at you, “Oh, I think I have an idea. You tend to have a staring problem, darlin’”

Your face flushes instantly. He lowers his lips to your ears and whispers, “I do too, I’m just a little more subtle with it.” He places kisses on your neck and then trails back up to your ear, “Your body drives me crazy, baby.”

Suddenly his hands are everywhere. One is up by your head so he keeps his balance while the other is trailing up and down your chest, your stomach, your neck. He’s everywhere all at once and it still isn’t enough. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist so you buck up to create even more friction than there already was.

“Easy there, baby, I’ve been waiting an awful long time for this, I want to take it slow with you. Gotta treat you right.” He pins your waist down to the mattress with one hand. “Let me take care of you, baby.” His look is so sincere all you can do is nod. “Good girl.”

With that, he takes his hand pinning you down and runs the tips of his fingertips along the waistline of your underwear, teasing you. You whine.

“Patience baby,” A kiss on the cheek, “It will be worth it, I promise,” A kiss on the other cheek. Then his fingers are tugging them down inch by inch until you’re completely bare to him from the waist down. “So pretty,” He says, almost to himself.

Before you have time to acknowledge what he’s said, the same gentle fingertips that were teasing you a moment ago land on your most sensitive spot, creating a feeling of pleasure unlike anything you’ve ever known. Your body somehow tenses and melts into the mattress at once as he works you slowly but surely.

“How does that feel, baby?” His voice is rough around the edges but soft at its center, he genuinely wants to gauge your reaction, as if your whines and body language weren’t enough.

“Itfeelssogood” You slur out, hands gripping the sheets on either side of you.

He kisses your neck, “Good. Now,” He moves his finger to your center and thrusts it in, moving his thumb back to your clit. “How does that feel?”

He’s working you up so good, you feel like you’re floating. His pace is the perfect mix between rough and conscious, never taking his eyes off you for even a second. You can tell he’s loving this as much as you are, and not just because you can feel his erection through his boxers.

You moan as he works you before answering, “Joel it feels so good.”

“Such a good girl for me, so wet and ready. Is this what you were thinking about when you couldn’t sleep?” He whispers in your ear as he picks up the pace.

You can feel something building deep inside of you, something you haven’t felt in a long time, and never at this magnitude. It’s coming on strong and fast, you can almost reach it. “Yes, this is what I was thinking about. I was thinking about your hands on me.”

“Mmmm that’s what I like to hear baby, what else were you thinking about?” He grabs one of your hands and brings it to his boxers, “Were you thinking about this?”

You moan and nod your head, he’s continuing to pick up his pace and you’re getting closer and closer.

“I want you to cum for me, gorgeous. Please cum for me.”

You throw your head back and moan again, “I want to cum for you.”

“Just focus on how good it feels baby, you’re so close I can feel it. Be a good girl for me.”

And just like magic, you’re there. It hits you like a freight train and your whole body is consumed. You’re tensing and writhing and it definitely isn’t normally like this, but you’re just so overcome with emotions for this man and pleasure and all of the things that drive a girl crazy.

He coaxes you through it with lots of reassurances and hair pets, and then finally you’ve come down. “Thank you,” You say as he brushes some hair out of your face.

“Don’t thank me yet darlin’, I’m not done with you yet.” And with that, he hauls your body up to the head of the bed, making sure your head is all settled on the pillows. He sits back on his knees and takes off his shirt, nodding at you to do the same. You’re left completely bare and he in his boxers alone. You’re mesmerized by his body. Age normally should have broken him down, but for him he seems to have only been built up. You had seen him in the garden but this, this was something entirely different. He was raw here, with you.

“This is what I meant by you needing to be more subtle. You don’t need to undress me with your eyes, baby, you just gotta ask.” He stands up and drops his boxers, revealing himself to you fully for the first time. He’s big. Like, real big. And thick. You don’t let yourself dwell on the mechanics for more than a moment, but you do wonder how it’s going to fit.

He gets back in bed and hovers over you once more, “Are you sure about this? We can stop at any time.”

You nod your head, “I’m sure. Never been more sure about anything, actually.”

He gives you one more kiss, a firm one with the promise of a good time. You run your fingers through his hair and tug slightly. He moans into your mouth. “You sure are an eager one, aren’tcha?”

He grabs his member and lines it up with your center, teasing you slightly. You wince at the sensitivity from your previous orgasm. “You ok?” He asks gently.

“Yeah, just a little sensitive. But I’m ready. Please fuck me, Joel.” The words even surprise yourself as you say them. You’re not the best at being direct about what you want, but right now all you can do is rely on pure instinct.

He chuckles darkly before lining himself up once again, “Your wish is my command, sweetheart.”

And just like that, he’s fucking you. Long, hard strokes that never feel like too much too fast. Just right. You feel the fullness of him immediately and it’s so divine you can’t help but arch into him and moan. Your fingers fly back into his hair as he thrusts into you with such precision, he hits your G-spot every time.

“Is that good for you, baby? Tell me how it feels.” He grunts as he pounds into you expertly.

“I love it, baby. I love it,” You’re breathless as you try to find the words to describe the way he’s making you feel.

He takes one of your legs and rests your ankle on his shoulder, opening you up even more than you thought possible and deepening the angle of his already deep thrusts. You try not to scream, so you grab a pillow and put it over your face.

He rips it off almost immediately, “Oh no, sweetheart. No hiding from me. I want to see your pretty face when I make you cum on my cock.”

You’re so incoherent you can’t even respond to his filthy words. You just moan in response and grab the sheets on either side of you.

He changes his pace a couple of times, switching from slow and long to fast and shallow, but it never feels out of place or off rhythm. He is just somehow so in tune with your body that he knows exactly what you need when you need it.

You’re whining and moaning when he lowers your leg and gets his face up next to yours. His hand moves down to your clit and he starts massaging it while he continues to thrust into you. “You’ve been such a good girl tonight baby,” He says through his own labored breathing. “Coming up here in your little panties practically begging to get fucked. Such a good girl.” You moan so loud he covers your mouth with his other hand, “I love hearing those moans baby but you gotta keep it quiet if you want me to keep going. And I know you want me to keep going.”

You nod and he removes his hand from your mouth and sits back again, watching you from above. “Play with your tits while I make you cum.” You do as you're told, loving the feeling of his eyes fixed on you while you do exactly what he says.

Once again, you feel something building inside of you. The combination of him inside you, his fingers working their magic, and his eyes on you makes it nearly impossible to resist the feelings as they come on strong.

“I’m gonna cum,” You whine.

“Do it baby, cum for me” He picks up his pace and you can tell he’s getting close himself, can tell he’s chasing something.

It only takes a couple more seconds before you finish in an explosion of pleasure. You’re so out of it as you come down you barely register him pulling out and grabbing a tissue from the side table. What a gentleman.

You’re both laying there in silence when the gravity of what just happened finally hits you. You just had sex with the one person that stands between you and certain death. This could ruin everything. You move to get up and go back to your room when you feel an arm on you, pulling you back down.

“Stay,” He pauses, “Please stay with me.”

You smile softly at him and lay back down, but this time he wraps you up in his arms and spoons you. You can feel his breathing on the back of your neck and his calluses on your arms as he holds you. He starts tracing little circles on your skin with his thumb while he hums.

“That was amazing,” You say, finally breaking the silence.

“Yeah, um, sorry if I came on too strong,” He pauses, “Haven’t done that in awhile.”

You turn around to face him and you rest a palm on his cheek, “It was perfect. You were perfect. I um, I just hope this doesn’t change anything?” You nervously finish.

He looks startled. He quits rubbing circles on your skin and moves back. “Yeah, no. No, it doesn't have to change anything.”

Clearly, you’ve struck a chord and you don’t know why or how. But you do know that you need to fix it.

“I just, I know we’re in a precarious situation and I don’t want you to feel like our relationship has changed at all.” You begin.

He sits up fully with his back against the headboard, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Joel?” You join him up against the headboard, covering yourself with the blanket.

He sighs but doesn’t look at you, “If I had thought everything would stay the same I wouldn’t have done what I just did. I wouldn’t have opened the door and I certainly wouldn’t have let you in.”

You’re stunned and you’re scared, having no idea what he’s talking about. “What are you saying?”

Finally, he looks at you. “Dammit Y/N what if I want things to change?” He doesn’t raise his voice at all, but his tone is stern enough to send you aback.

“What?”

Another sigh, “What if I want things to change? What if I want somebody who is going to be there for me at the end of the day in my bed? This world isn’t permanent and I can’t promise you forever but I can promise you for now. For now, I want this. For now, I want you. And I’m gonna keep wanting you until the thing that stands in the way of me and death itself disappears.” He pauses, “So yeah, maybe you don’t want things to change but I do. Sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear.” He looks away from you again.

“Joel, I-”

“I don’t want your pity. I get it, I’m just some old man with a 17 year old basket case trailing behind me and you’re young and beautiful and just had an itch to scratch. We’ll continue with business as usual in the morning. Good night.” He flips over onto his side away from you.

You huff. This is ridiculous, you think to yourself. You tap him on the shoulder.

“You should probably go back to your room, Y/N.”

You tap him on the shoulder again.

He flips around to look at you, “What more could you possibly want from me?”

You cross your arms over your blanket covered chest, “What makes you think I wanted things to stay the same?”

“Gee, I don’t know, probably the part where you said ‘things don’t have to change’?” He says sarcastically as he sits back up to face you. “Wonder where I got that crazy idea.”

“I was just saying that in case you didn’t want anything to change! I’m totally at your mercy with everything, including my survival here, so sorry for being cautious.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his mouth does fall open in shock a little bit.

“Joel, trust me when I say I’m not taking pity on you when I say I want this too. I can’t promise you forever but I can promise you for now, and for tomorrow, and for the next day and the day after that. I choose you and I choose Ellie and I want this. I want you. I want to be the one that is there for you at the end of the day.” You smile at him and grab his hand, “You’re my good thing too.”

His face softens and he grabs your joined hands with his other one and leans over to kiss you on the cheek. You lean into it and giggle as he begins peppering a bunch of kisses all over your face. The hard with the soft, that’s Joel Miller.

“Let’s go to bed, shall we?” You ask him as he leans over you, caressing your face.

“Yeah, let’s go to bed.” He gives you one last kiss on the cheek and spoons you once more.

That night you dream of strawberries. Just fields and fields of strawberries.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel last of us #joel last of us smut

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dystopicjumpsuit · 6 months

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Martyrs and Kings AND ZOMBIES!!!

A/N: I'm so excited to share this spooky, sexy one-shot sequel to Martyrs and Kings! I've been planning this fic for months, and I hope y'all love it. Quick note: obviously, this fic contains spoilers for M&K; however, it was beta-read by my partner who has not (yet) read the original fic, and they said it worked as a stand-alone story, so if you haven't read M&K yet and don't mind spoilers, read on!

This fic is dedicated to the amazing @clonemedickix in gratitude for all the love and support that you've shown me and so many others in the fandom. Thank you so much for everything you do, and particularly thank you for your feedback on the field medicine. You are a rock star!

One final caveat: I am a horror wimp, but I did my best. Please don't expect Stephen King 💜

Pairing: Post-stasis Kix x OFC Dr. Maree Finnall

Rating: M (minors DNI)

Wordcount: 5k (this just made M&K 10% longer lol)

Warnings and tags: peril; suspense; violence; blood and injury; gore; medical procedures; adult language; SMUT; oral sex; face-sitting; Kix activating my competence kink like no other. IMPORTANT: an additional content warning is listed at the end of the fic due to spoilers. If you have triggers, please check the end of the fic for the BOLD PINK TEXT before reading.

Summary: The crew of the Meson Martinet goes after the score of a lifetime and discover that they may have bitten off more than they can chew.

Suggested listening:

Martyrs and Kings chapter 1 | Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

“B1.5-series battle droids are a myth,” Kix said firmly. “You’re wasting your time.”

“The good doctor doesn’t share your opinion,” Quiggold argued.

Sidon Ithano, as usual, said nothing, his crimson helmet swiveling slowly toward Maree. Kix turned to her as well, his jaw set, his eyes full of confidence that she would back him up. Kriff it. She absolutely hated being caught in the middle of this argument.

She cleared her throat. “There’s… some debate in the academic community about their existence, actually. If they ever were created, they were never deployed at any recorded battle—and it’s a good thing, too.”

“Why is that, exactly?” Reeg Brosna asked.

He was sprawled on the bench of the dinette, his arm draped around Orys Brenko as the research assistant perked up immediately.

“Is it true that they used nanodroids to retrofit original B1-series droids?” Brenko asked, his face flushing dark green with excitement.

“That is one theory,” Maree said circumspectly, keenly aware of Kix’s scrutiny. “According to contemporary sources—and noting that those sources are unreliable at best—the B1.5s had significantly upgraded blaster resistance. There was another rumor as well, even less credible.”

“What rumor?” Reveth interrupted, leaning forward over the table, drawing Ithano’s attention subtly.

“They said the B1.5s could keep going even if you blasted their processors,” Kix cut in before Maree could reply. “It was a stupid story the commandos made up to scare the shinies.”

“But what if it wasn’t?” Brosna asked. “Indestructible battle droids? They’d be worth a fortune.”

“Even if they don’t exist, the haul from a Techno Union stronghold could set us up for life,” Reveth pointed out. “I say we go after it.”

Squeaky grunted his agreement, predictably. The Gamorrean was always guaranteed to follow the pretty Twi’lek’s lead. Reveth could have suggested a nude spacewalk, and Squeaky would have thought it was a grand idea. Brosna and Brenko voted in favor as well. Kix voted against, and Maree did as well, purely out of solidarity. Privately, she was consumed with curiosity about the B1.5s, and she couldn’t deny that the possibility of such a groundbreaking discovery was alluring in the extreme.

Quiggold voted in favor, and Ithano abstained, and so it was decided: the crew would send a team to scout the Techno Union stronghold, and if they found anything worthwhile, the rest of Ithano’s small fleet would join them.

“We’re gonna need your expertise, Doc,” Reveth said to Maree.

“Absolutely not,” Kix snapped.

Maree glanced at him in surprise. It was unlike him to try to overrule her choice, and she didn’t care for it. “Reveth is right, Kix. I’ll be able to identify the highest-value items, and I have a good idea of what’s in demand.”

Kix looked away, clearly unhappy, but recognizing that he’d overstepped. “Fine. But if you’re going, I’m going, too.”

“We’ll need you to stay and command the fleet from the Scorpion while the captain is away,” Quiggold interjected.

“Fuck that,” Kix growled. “Brosna is my first mate—he can take command from the Scorpion. When it comes to Maree’s safety, I outrank everyone on this ship.”

“Brosna doesn’t have the experience—” Quiggold began.

“Agreed,” Ithano said, his deep voice cutting through the buzz of conversation and debate in the Martinet’s galley. “Quiggold, command the fleet from the Martinet. Brosna, take the Scorpion. Reveth, Squeaky, you’re with us.”

The captain’s decision was final, and within a few hours, Kix, Maree, Reveth, Squeaky, and Ithano had boarded the Scorpion’s shuttle Stinger and departed for the desolate moon where the Techno Union base had sat untouched for over fifty years.

“Fifty credits says we find nothing,” Kix said.

“I’ll take that bet,” Reveth replied.

Squeaky grunted his agreement. Ithano said nothing.

“Maree, you want in on this action?” Reveth asked.

“Kix and I have a private bet on the side,” Maree said with a mischievous twinkle as Kix shot her an inscrutable look.

Reveth smirked. “Sounds like fun.”

“Oh, it will be,” Maree replied. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of crimson as Ithano moved through the shuttle. On impulse, she leaned in and whispered in Reveth’s ear cone.

Reveth’s eyes widened as her mechanical hand instinctively settled on Maree’s waist. “Damn. You and Kix want a third for that?”

Ithano’s helmet whipped to the side as he suddenly became very interested in the conversation. Maree suppressed a laugh.

“What do you think, Kix?” Maree asked with faux innocence. “Can Reveth play with us?”

Kix eyed her with a perfectly neutral expression that warned Maree he knew exactly what she was up to. “You gotta win that bet if you want to call the shots.”

“You’re on,” Maree replied immediately.

Ithano’s helmet swiveled from Maree, to Reveth, to Kix, and back to Reveth, but he said nothing. Kix merely turned back to the navigation controls and continued to pilot the shuttle toward their destination.

The old Techno Union stronghold was on a remote, swampy moon, and the dense vegetation had grown thickly over the past five decades. Kix was forced to set the shuttle down several klicks from the decrepit base. He didn’t like it. He didn’t kriffing like any of this. It was too far; they’d be too exposed; their progress would be too slow in the mud. He glanced at Maree and felt his anxiety spike.

How the kark am I supposed to protect her out there?

He double-checked her gear as she suited up, adjusting the fit of her holster for a quicker draw. He quickly inspected her blaster before handing it to her.

“What’s going on?” she asked quietly. “You’re on edge.”

He shook his head. “I don’t have a good feeling about this mission.”

“It’s not the first time we’ve gone into one of these old strongholds,” she pointed out. “We’ll be okay.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. You’re right. Just… Keep your eyes open.”

“I will,” she promised. “And I know you’ll watch my back. Just like I’ll watch yours.”

He traced his fingertips along her jaw as he pulled her closer to himself. He couldn’t feel her soft warmth through his armor, but her nearness felt comforting regardless. He kissed her gently, threading his fingers through the hair that she wore in loose braids.

She looked so different now than she had the first time he’d met her two years earlier; her elegant wardrobe replaced with sturdy, practical clothing meant to withstand rough field work and the occasional blaster fight. But underneath, she still smelled like tea and honey and home. She was still the same—still his Maree.

“If you’re finished sucking the lips off her face, can we get going?” Reveth teased. “Droids aren’t gonna find themselves.”

Despite Kix’s misgivings, the trek to the derelict base was uneventful. Squeaky stayed with the shuttle in case they needed a quick extraction, while Ithano, Reveth, and Maree hacked their way through the underbrush along with Kix. It was slow going, and the swamp was creepy as hell, but eventually they made it to the plastcrete and durasteel structure.

There was no power to the base, so they cut their way through the sealed exterior blast doors. Once inside, the group fell silent as they made their way through the dusty, cobwebbed hallways. The base was pitch black inside, illuminated only by their own torches, and once again, Kix felt the simmering anxiety in his gut begin to roil.

“Something’s been living in here,” Reveth muttered, training the beam of her flashlight on a tangle of debris that was unmistakably a nest for something… large.

Kix didn’t respond, but he reached out and pulled Maree closer to himself, then drew one of his DC-17s. Ithano brought up the rear, his blaster rifle ready.

“Control center should be just ahead,” Maree whispered. “Reveth might be able to restore power from there.”

“We’ll be karked if she can’t,” Kix replied quietly.

“Happy thoughts, Kix,” Maree murmured.

Right. Happy thoughts. Spiced biscuits. Unlimited bacta. Maree’s tits. More credits than I’ve ever seen in my life. The Scorpion. Weapons caches. Maree’s thighs. Maree’s thighs on my shoulders. Maree’s thighs framing my face while she rides—uh, weapons caches.

“Control center,” Reveth called under her breath as she reached a sealed doorway.

They pried it open enough to squeeze through. Kix went first, sweeping his light across the room as he scanned for threats. Reveth followed, then Maree and Ithano. Reveth headed straight for the control console and plugged in her small power unit and began to fiddle with the controls.

“Happy thoughts,” Kix mumbled, returning to the doorway to keep watch over the pitch-dark corridor.

Within a few moments, Reveth let out a quiet, triumphant huff as the control console flickered to life, dimly illuminating the room. She went to work immediately, interfacing her datapad with the ancient console.

“Damn. Main power cells are depleted,” she said. “I’ll try to at least get emergency lighting turned on.”

“Why would the power be depleted if the base has been abandoned for decades?” Maree asked. “The Techno Union had extraordinarily advanced power cells that were capable of storing energy far longer.”

“Unless something used it,” Reveth said.

Kix swiveled his head to stare at the Twi’lek.

“Like what?” he bit out.

She shrugged. “Dunno. But we might find out as soon as I get the data decrypted.”

A distant, deep hum sounded, and red light flickered on throughout the base.

“Nicely done,” Maree told Reveth.

“Let’s get the data and get the kriff out of here,” Kix growled, hating every minute of their time in the farking spooky base.

“Working on it,” Reveth snapped. “Think you can do it faster?”

Ithano glanced between Kix and Reveth, then moved to join Kix at the doorway, blaster rifle raised. “What is it?”

“Not sure,” Kix replied quietly. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

Ever reticent, Ithano merely nodded and took up position across from him. Kix nodded in silent gratitude that the pirate captain didn’t question his instincts. Then again, the Crimson Corsair hadn’t survived this long by ignoring his gut.

Kix’s eyes darted to Maree again. She leaned over the console, scrolling rapidly through the data files, searching for any hint of the information they sought. He turned back toward the hallway, his eyes scanning it watchfully.

“No kriffin’ way,” Maree gasped.

“What?” Kix and Reveth demanded in unison.

“You just lost a bet, my love,” Maree told Kix.

“Wait, really?” Reveth asked. “It’s real?”

“‘Project Ophio,’” Maree read, her voice low and hurried. “Principal investigator Vamb Tebrem. Project number T327H1138X99. Primary focus of study is to develop experimental NM-K reconstitutors with the purpose of enhancing the durability and combat acumen of extant B-1 series assets…” Her voice trailed off as she leaned closer to the console, flicking through the data hurriedly. “Project director reported a 62% success rate in the initial efficacy trial; however the experimental reconstitutors were prohibitively expensive to manufacture, and the unpredictability observed in field tests was not adequately resolved—what field tests?”

“You catch any of that?” Reveth asked Kix.

He shrugged. Maree’s voice had dropped to an inaudible murmur as she scrolled through the data, then opened another data file. A quiet chime sounded from the console, drawing Reveth’s attention.

A glowing hologram appeared over the console: wave after wave of battle droids locked in combat a group of clone commandos who should have been able to easily defeat the B-1s. But the droids just kept going. Nothing could stop their advance as they overwhelmed the commandos’ positions and tore them to pieces. Kix swallowed hard, hearing the screams of the dying commandos, unable to take his eyes off the hologram. Maree slapped a button on the console and the sound paused abruptly as the holo froze.

“Holy kark,” she breathed.

“What?” Reveth asked. “Is that not normal?”

“No,” Kix said grimly. “We need to get out of here.”

“Uh, about that…” Reveth said.

Ithano swiveled his head toward the Twi’lek. “What?”

“Opening that holofile triggered an alert in the system,” Reveth said. “Hopefully it’s nothing?”

“Time to go,” Kix growled.

“Yeah,” Maree said, her voice shaky. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“At least let me download the records,” Reveth argued, jamming a data spike into the console.

They all froze as a distant but unmistakable crash echoed through the base, followed by a rhythmic thumping.

“What is that?” Maree whispered.

“Clankers,” Kix said grimly, drawing his second blaster. “Seal the blast doors.”

“We’ll be trapped in here!” Reveth objected.

Maree stared at Kix. “Can’t we make it out before—”

A light flashed, and her body jerked as a blaster bolt smashed into her. She went down hard, and Kix barely had time to register what was happening before a firestorm of blaster bolts exploded into the room. He whirled back to the entrance and returned fire at the wave of battle droids that was advancing at high speed toward his position. Ithano was firing as fast as he could, but the droids weren’t dropping.

“Get those kriffing doors sealed!” Ithano bellowed.

Reveth had ducked down behind the console for cover as Maree scrambled to join her out of the line of fire. Reveth frantically worked the controls from her position on the floor, but she wasn’t fast enough. A single droid made it through before the doors slammed shut. The clanking and pounding of the army of droids battering against the blast doors was deafening. The lone battle droid charged across the command center.

“Kill it!” Kix shouted. “Fuckin’ kill it!”

Reveth, Ithano, and Kix unleashed a torrent of blaster bolts, but the karking thing wouldn’t go down, even as its components began to fail and fly off its body. It was headed for the console. It was headed toward Maree. Desperately, Kix launched himself at its mangled, skeletal form, tackling it as he locked his arms around and tore its head off with a sickening screech of twisting metal.

But the fucking thing kept moving, shambling toward the console. Kix growled and yanked out his vibroblade, slashing through the droid’s joints until nothing remained but a pile of scrap, and then he sprinted toward Maree, launching himself over the control console.

“Maree!” Kix yelled hoarsely.

Her face was sweaty and contorted with pain as she clutched her hand around her upper arm, but she gave him a tight smile. “I’m all right.”

The blaster hole in her jacket sleeve was still smoking, and Kix felt sick as he saw blood covering her hand, oozing from a wound that should have been cauterized by the plasma bolt.

“Let me see,” he ordered.

She moved her hand, and he cut the sleeve away quickly, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Oh, fuck, it’s bad. It’s bad, and I don’t have my kit.

“We have to get out of here,” Reveth rasped.

Kix dug frantically through his pouches, finding only a few small bacta patches and a vial of spray bandage. He didn’t have a choice. It would have to do, at least until they could make it back to the Stinger.

He shoved the jacket sleeve and vibroblade toward Reveth. “Cut that into strips. Wide ones.”

He drenched the blaster wound with spray bandage, then grabbed the first strip Reveth cut from the jacket sleeve and quickly tied it around Maree’s arm near her shoulder. “Do you have a stylus on you?”

“Always,” Maree said, her voice tense with pain. She pulled the stylus out of her pocket and handed it to him, carefully avoiding looking at the charred, bloody wound. “Why is it bleeding so much?”

Kix tied the ends of the cloth strip around the stylus and twisted to tighten the makeshift tourniquet, securing it as he replied in an artificially calm tone. “Sometimes it happens. Move just wrong—the cauterized scab opens—blood.”

He ripped open the bacta patches and arranged them carefully over the injury, covering it as well as he could before wrapping the rest of the fabric strips around them to secure them in place. Finally, he looked up into her eyes, inadvertently smearing her own blood on her cheek as he cupped her face.

“I’m not losing you today.” His words were firm, but tremor in his hands was undeniable, and his pulse thundered in his ears.

She smiled at him through dry, ashen lips, and he kissed her forehead, then helped her carefully to her feet. Reveth had pulled up a schematic of the base, and Ithano joined them at the console, pausing to squeeze Kix’s shoulder briefly.

“We don’t die so easily,” the captain said in his deep, rasping voice.

“Not today, anyway,” Reveth cut in. “I found an escape route.”

“Please tell me it’s not the ventilation shaft,” Maree said unsteadily.

“It’s always the ventilation shaft,” Reveth replied.

Maree’s shoulder screamed with agony as she crawled through the ventilation shaft. She gritted her teeth to hold back the whimper of pain that hovered at the base of her throat. The ventilation shaft was filthy and cramped, and their progress was torturously slow as they navigated as silently as possible to their destination. The conduit wouldn’t take them all the way out of the base, so they would have to make a run for the main entrance when they got close. The only way they stood a chance of escaping was to not draw the attention of the battle droids.

She followed Kix through the labyrinthine ductwork, crawling laboriously on her knees and one hand. Her injured arm had burned like fire when Kix first applied the tourniquet, but now her arm was completely numb—and equally useless. At last, they found the access hatch to the main corridor. Kix dropped down first, and then Maree realized exactly how difficult this was going to be with only one functional arm.

“Just drop,” he whispered. “I’ll catch you.”

She took a deep breath and slid out of the maintenance hatch, feet first. Panic flashed in her mind briefly as she plummeted through the air, but Kix was true to his word, catching her before she could hit the ground. He set her down quickly and checked to make sure her bandage was still in place as first Reveth and then Ithano dropped down into the corridor.

They sprinted for the exit. Maree’s lungs burned and her vision blurred around the edges as she gasped for breath. Kix looked back at her sharply and reached for her hand, dragging her along behind him. By some miracle, the droids hadn’t detected them yet, and she could see the main entrance of the base. She forced herself to keep running, even as she stumbled and nearly went down, kept upright only by Kix’s strong grasp.

He tugged her arm over his shoulder and wrapped his arm around her waist to support her, but he didn’t slow his pace. “We have to keep going, love. We can’t stop now.”

“I know,” she wheezed. “So close…”

She could hear the clanking of droids behind them, and she pushed herself as hard as she ever had in her life to keep running. They cleared the entrance, and Reveth tossed a few magnetized thermal detonators onto the ceiling of the base.

Keep running, don’t stop, keep going.

The explosion knocked them off their feet, but the rubble of the collapsed ceiling blocked the main entrance. It wouldn’t hold back the droids for long, but it bought them time—so long as they kept moving. Kix was up first, pulling Maree with him as Reveth and Ithano scrambled to their feet.

They ran for the trees as Reveth commed Squeaky. “We need a pickup, now!”

“He can’t get to us in the jungle!” Kix said. “We have to find a clearing where the shuttle can land.”

They dodged through the trees, trying to avoid the worst of the swampy ground, but the dense underbrush slowed their progress and steered them on a circuitous route. Out of the corner of her eye, Maree saw movement in the earth. The ground shifted and began to swell.

“What the kriff is that?” she demanded.

“Keep running, don’t look back,” Kix urged.

“No, what is that?” she repeated.

She saw a flash of pale, bonelike metal alloy, and then a battle droid erupted from the earth.

“Fuck!” she screamed.

All around them, the skeletal forms of B1.5 droids began to emerge from the swampy ground, punching their way to the surface and dragging themselves up from the mud. Kix released Maree and drew both of his blasters, opening fire without hesitation. Maree, Reveth, and Ithano followed suit, for all the good it did them. The droids simply wouldn’t go down; even if they took so many hits that they started to fall apart, they still somehow shambled on in a grotesque parody of their normal precise movement.

They had no choice but to keep running and hope that they could at least slow some of the droids down. She could hear the roar of the shuttle overhead, but the vegetation was too dense for Squeaky to pick them up. The Gamorrean’s indistinct, frantic squealing sounded from Reveth’s comlink.

“He said there’s a clearing about a klick southwest!” Reveth yelled.

It might as well be on the other side of the planet, Maree thought hopelessly. There were simply too many droids; they were advancing relentlessly, and the terrain was too hostile to cross it with any speed. Holy shit, we’re all going to die here.

Her mind darted to the holorecord of the field test—a kriffing gruesome euphemism for such carnage. It had been a complete massacre. The terrified screams of the commandos as the droids tore them to pieces; the spray of blood and viscera: the images were branded irrevocably in her memory. It was a horrific way to die, and they were about to find out firsthand.

Panic clawed at her, closing her throat and making her shots go wild. Her legs felt sluggish, and her feet became unsteady, but Kix never let her fall, even as he fired ceaselessly at the pursuing droids.

“We’re almost there,” he grunted. “Keep running, sweetheart, you can do it.”

“Kix, go,” Ithano ordered. “Get her to the Stinger.”

“No!” Maree exclaimed. “We’re not leaving you!”

Kix ignored her protests, bending over and tossing her over his shoulder as he ran. His plastoid armor cut into her thighs and belly, and she squirmed to try to get away.

“Put me down! Go back!”

Kix ignored her and raced for the clearing where the shuttle hovered just above the ground, ready to take off as soon as the crew were safely aboard. He dropped Maree in the copilot seat and turned to Squeaky.

“Don’t let her follow me.”

He sprinted to the back of the shuttle and jumped out, making for the treeline.

“Kix!” she screamed, lurching out of her seat.

Squeaky didn’t hesitate. He thrust her back into the chair with a stern grunt, then secured the safety harness to make sure she didn’t try to run again. She could hear blaster fire and shouting outside the ship, and she tugged desperately at the harness. Squeaky grunted again to order her to take control of the ship, and he lumbered toward the rear hatch, blaster ready.

Her heart hammered as she took the controls. Please, please, please. The distraught prayer echoed in her mind, silently beseeching the Force. I can’t lose him. Not like this. She felt utterly helpless as the deafening roar of Squeaky’s blaster fire pounded through the ship. Mercifully, she soon heard the pounding of boots on durasteel, and then Ithano launched into the pilot’s seat and punched the controls, hurtling the shuttle away from the planet.

“Kix?” she asked frantically.

“I’m here,” he said, dropping to his knees next to Maree’s chair and wrapping his arms around her. “I’m here.”

“I’m here, too, thanks for askin’,” Reveth said as she flopped into her seat.

Kix stood and quickly released the safety harness, tugging Maree out of the chair and burying his face against her neck.

“Holy kark, I can’t believe we all made it out,” Reveth said. “I was sure Maree was toast.”

Maree laughed, and Kix glared at the Twi’lek. “Not kriffin’ funny.”

“It’s kinda funny,” Reveth insisted.

Kix shook his head and drew Maree out of the cockpit and back to the tiny med bay at the rear of the shuttle. “Med bay” was putting it generously; it was really just a bunk and a large emergency medkit, but it had everything he needed to treat her shoulder. He administered a stim shot, cleaned and redressed her wound, and removed the tourniquet. He worked efficiently, and she didn’t see any of the distress that had clouded his eyes back at the base—of course, they weren’t fending off a horde of unkillable zombie droids this time, either.

“What’s the verdict, doctor?” she asked with a tiny smile.

He stroked his fingers over her forearm gently. “You’ll live. Gonna have a kickass scar, too.”

“Will you kiss it better?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes.

He smiled wryly as he leaned in and pressed his lips softly against hers. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

“I’ll do my best. At least I’m finally going to have an exciting story to tell Baba and Eema.”

His eyes widened. “Oh, kriff, your mothers are going to kill me!”

The Stinger docked with the Meson Martinet first, and Squeaky, Reveth, and Ithano disembarked, then Kix piloted the shuttle to his own ship, the Scorpion. Brenko and Brosna were waiting next to the airlock when Kix and Maree emerged from the shuttle.

“Well, did you find the B1.5s?” Brosna asked.

“Yeah,” Kix replied grimly.

“Ha!” Brosna laughed triumphantly. “Pay up, Captain!”

“You’re still acting captain,” Kix retorted. “Now get your ass back up to the bridge until I relieve you.”

“Wait, you’re not taking command right now?” Brosna asked.

“Nope,” Kix replied, dragging Maree to their quarters.

The door hissed shut behind them, and Kix slapped the control panel to lock it. He was on Maree instantly, devouring her in a searing kiss as he unzipped and pulled off her jacket, carefully avoiding the large bandage on her shoulder. Once he had her top removed, he dropped his mouth to her throat and kissed a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down her body as he knelt in front of her.

His hands roved over her urgently, clutching her body close to him. She tangled her fingers in his hair as he tugged down her trousers, and then he plunged his tongue into her ravenously. Her body jerked, and she cried out, losing her balance. He caught her with ease, then pulled her toward the bed.

“Kix,” she panted. “Don’t you at least want to get naked?”

“I can’t wait,” he groaned. “Sit on my face.”

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped.

“I’m planning to,” he said, lying on his back. “On my face. Now.”

She knelt, hovering over his mouth, staring down into his eyes. He gazed back up at her, sliding his hands up her waist to cup her breasts, before dropping them to her thighs and yanking her body downward.

“Kriff!” she exclaimed as his tongue slid deeply into her cunt, then his lips closed around her clit.

He held her in place as he feasted on her, his groans vibrating against her sensitive flesh. The sensation was overwhelming. She writhed, nearly toppling over, then leaned back to brace her hands on his ribcage. He ate her like he was starving, like she was the last thing he would ever taste, and he fully intended to savor every drop.

“Kix—fuck—gods—” she moaned, her hips finding a subtle rhythm even as his strong hands gripped her, preventing her from moving more than a few centimeters.

He murmured quietly against her in between the kisses and licks and nibbles—soft, nearly inaudible whispers of fear and adoration and lust. “... taste so fucking good… love you so much… thought I was going to lose you… never letting go… so kriffin’ scared… want you so bad…”

He released her thigh and reached his hand around to massage her clit. All the muscles in her core began to tense as pleasure spooled tightly in her body, but her orgasm remained tantalizingly just out of reach. She leaned back, groping blindly for his cock. She fumbled with his belt and eventually just slid her hand beneath the waistband until she wrapped her fingers around his rigid shaft.

He grunted at the contact, his hips thrusting up off the mattress. His hand strayed away from her clit to press his palm flat against her lower belly, and pressure was exactly what she needed. She convulsed with a sob, and he redoubled his efforts, tongue-fucking her through her orgasm. Distantly, she felt the thrusting of his cock against her hand, and then a rush of hot, sticky cum on her fingers.

She crumpled to the bed, and he pulled her tightly against him, kissing the backs of her thighs as she slowly came back to herself. After a few moments, he shifted, curling up behind her, tucking his thighs behind her legs as he drew her body close to his and buried his face in her hair.

“I love you,” she murmured.

He kissed the side of her neck, just behind her ear, dragging his tongue slowly across her skin as he slid his hand up to play with her breast. “Love you. Never scare me like that again.”

She laughed quietly. “Aye, aye, Cap’n. What’s gotten into you, anyway? You were acting protective before we even left the Martinet.”

He lay silently for a moment, breathing in the scent of her hair, before he replied. “You’re late.”

She blinked. “What?”

“You’re… your cycle, it’s like clockwork. And—you’re late,” he said hoarsely.

She swallowed. “Oh.”

The original comic panel that inspired this story! This was from Star Wars Adventures Ashcan. Alas, this comic was never published, so I am once again filling in the gaps in canon.

ADDITIONAL CONTENT WARNING: mention of possible pregnancy.

#clone medic kix #post stasis kix #pirate kix #meson martinet #sidon ithano #reveth #oc: maree finnall #star wars #clone wars #star wars fanfiction #clone wars fanfic #martyrs and kings #dystopicjumpsuit writes #Spotify

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cooking-with-hailstones · 6 months

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Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks for the tags y'all! @mistresslrigtar @zeldadiarist @ladyhoneydee y'all go read their stuff it's so good

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Just 8, but it's about to increase! ;)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

58,767!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Legend of Zelda - All BOTW so far. I have some ideas for other Zelda games but they remain as ideas for now.

I also have a short Marvel story from my Steve/Bucky days circa 2013.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Shadows - An Epistolary Poem from Steve Rogers to Bucky Barnes

Is that a yes? (Zelink oneshot, NSFW)

That child of mine (my beloved longfic - I promise I'm coming back to this story soon! I miss it so much)

Silk and moonlight (with art from the magnificent @bahbahhh)

A chance encounter at the blood clinic (modern Zelink au that is very silly but you gotta be ok with blood donation)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Absolutely! I am a sucker for attention and I love talking about stories with people.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh DEFINITELY That child of mine. It's not even finished yet but there is some goooood angst coming, and I already know how it's going to end (I've actually written a good chunk of the finale already) and it's gonna be heartbreaking.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably A chance enounter? They get each other's number and the promise of a cute date.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Nope! I've only gotten some (requested) constructive criticism. I do have a fic planned that I anticipate being kinda contentious? But I'm already planning on limiting comments on that one lol.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yee! I've never written anything hardcore but I do really like writing and reading sexy scenes. I'm not much of a PWP kind of person (give me all of the emotional context) but I'm a big believer that sex and intimacy are fundamentally human experiences and can serve a story in so many beautiful and interesting ways.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I continue to chip away at my Deep Space 9/TotK crossover idea. It's gonna happen one day... maybe...

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope, but maybe I'll try re-writing one of my stories in French sometime as a project.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No but I would LOVE to. The closest is when B and I collaborated and I wrote a story and she did the art.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Zelink, definitely. People whose souls are inextricably bound to one another and keep finding each other, lifetime after lifetime? That's the good shit right there. Obsessed.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

The story that walked into my head that made me start writing. It's a crazy ambitious story - Basic premise is that instead of the Sheikah technology being banned by the ancient king, the Sheikah themselves were banished from the lands of Hyrule. In the interim, Hyrule has been through many wars, dynasties and factions have all risen and fallen, and the bloodline of the Goddess has been forgotten. No one remembers any of the old stories. Zelda is a farm girl training to become a healer like her mother, Link is the son of the king who won the throne after lead a successful campaign against the Zora, and into all of this comes a young Impa, drawn back to Hyrule after thousands of years away, tormented by visions of calamity, a prophecy her people have passed down for millenia, knowing that Hylia would recall them to the land of their ancestors when the time was right. It's anti-monarchy, it's about climate change, it's about falling in love and renouncing power in order to fulfill a greater purpose, it's about knowing yourself, it's about righting ancestral wrongs, and I do not think it will ever be finished but I do like to come back to it every once in a while.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Coming up with interesting concepts!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Executing interesting concepts?

But in all seriousness, I know I still have a lot to learn as a writer. I'm overly descriptive, I have long run-on sentences, dialogue tags are my nemesis, and I struggle to write with real depth of character.

I do think I'm a good storyteller. I am just still honing those skills.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I think it's great! I am obsessed with conlangs - I think they're so fucking cool. For writing in existing languages, as long as you're familiar with the language, or getting someone to look it over and not just running things through google translate, I think that's wonderful.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Captain America.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

That child of mine my beloved

This was really fun, thanks y'all!

Tagging @louwhose @newtsnaturethings @wanderingnightingale and @bahbahhh ! I'm sure y'all have already been tagged but add me to the pile of fans who want to hear more about your work :D

#pals!#emily talks #fandom #tag game #my writing #breath of the wild #fanfiction #legend of zelda

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sparrow-in-the-field · 1 month

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Summarizing my WIPs badly

Thanks to the lovely @teaforarteza for the tag! 🥰

So I'm definitely taking liberties with the term "WIP" here because I'm actually very narrow focused and can only write 1 fic at a time, so technically Shy Boy is my only current WIP.

But! If we're willing to count my ~brainstorming~ as a work in progress, lol, I'll happily share a few of my ideas for fics I'm planning to write (also like Tea, I don't come up with titles until later usually so these really are just vague summaries):

I have two ideas for sequels to Shy Boy. The first is essentially a PWP around Don letting Bobby keep a hoodie of his while he's gone for Spring Break. The second is Bobby helping Don out when he's stressed about finals (and smut to celebrate when they're over lol)

I haven't decided if it'd be an official sequel to The Quiet Act or just another fic set in the 30s, but I plan to write a fic about Bobby and Don moving into their first place together :')

I have a Chuck/Roger idea related to the above bullet (where Chuck has a gay awakening when he goes to visit Bobby and Don and discovers they share a bed). Haven't totally decided if I'm gonna commit to this one though tbh (maybe combine it and the above into one fic?? Clearly still early in the brainstorming phase lol)

I'll tag @seasidesandstarscapes @icegreyrose and @strangethings-everywhere if y'all have anything you want to share (no pressure though, of course!)

#bobby moch x don hume #ao3 fanfic

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yamisnuffles · 2 months

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Fic Writer Interview

I was tagged by @feralkwe

Will put a cut in this one because it's so long

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I currently have 49 fics on AO3. A lot more fic spread out across the universe (including old notebooks and journals, I'm sure) but that's what I have there.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

388,596 which is not much but I'm not really surprised. OH WELL

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Blitzed (558)

The Altus Inquisitor (500)

For Want of Words (471)

Get Closer to Me (449)

Heartbeats (424)

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I really try! Sometimes my brain is not good and I can't think of anything to say. But I do try! Because I really like chatting with people and I love to hear what y'all have to say about things. I just apologize if all you get is a bland, "Thanks!" It is meant with all my heart, even if all my brain is static.

5. What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Uuuuuuuuh... that's a hard one. I generally do try very hard to have at least a glimmer of hope for the future, so I generally consider most of mine to be bittersweet. Off My Head And Onto Yours is fairly angsty because Aziraphale is going through some time period appropriate denial of feelings. For Want of Words was also constrained by current GO canon. I didn't feel good having them work things out just yet. Sadly fucking didn't fix anything lol. Similarly, All Good Things, despite being an AU was still covering the events of S2. I think in some ways it ended a little harsher for them because they were in a very different place than their canon counterparts.

I think probably the one with closest to just plain angst was Wicked White. Again, canon meant there was going to be sadness at the end. Emet-Selch has his canon end and I wasn't going to change it. So, for the same reason, Starshower will probably be angsty when I finally finish it.

6. What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

I think Just For Two is an easy pic since that was a pure fluff, future established relationship GO fic. Too Much of a Good Thing was the S1 fic for my AU and I also made sure to give them a very happy end there, knowing what was coming.

7. Do you write crossovers?

Nope!

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not that I can think of? Some good natured wailing and gnashing of teeth over some angst but nothing actually angry or hateful.

9. Do you write smut?

Yep!

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Also not that I'm aware of.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yeah, though not in a very long time. As a teen, I used to write a lot with my best friend. It was a lot of fun and I loved doing it but haven't done it since.

13. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Oh man, this is so hard. Bioware of course owns some of my faves. Hawke/Anders/Justice is one I can fall back into any time. I love them individually and together. They're all passion and fight and nothing is easy for them but it is good. Inquisitor/Dorian is also just SO GOOD. It's full of love and support and has a nice splash of angst to keep things interesting for me. Shakarian is another romance that is just canonically so perfect and good.

But, and this will surprise no one, I think Aziraphale/Crowley are the winners. They just have everything. They're both so clever but they're also SO STUPID. They're enemies to lovers but they were never really enemies and haven't actually figured out they're lovers. They're immortal and have pined for thousands of years, even before they figured out they were pining.

14. What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Oh man, most of my One Piece fics. I had a lot of fun writing them and I'm still very much into OP but, for various reasons, I don't know if I'll ever be back into the right headspace to work on them.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I think that I'm good at characterization. It's the thing that matters the most to me when I'm reading fic and so it's the thing I definitely put the most thought into. If I don't think I have a good handle on a character, I don't usually try to write them. Otherwise, there's lots of little things I think I am pretty good at but nothing that super stands out to me. I'm too close to judge, honestly.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

I don't know. And this isn't me thinking I'm great at everything, I just can't think of one particular thing that I really struggle with. A lot of times it depends on the day. I have gotten worse with description. Not in that I think I'm bad at it but a lot of times these days, I just don't include nearly as much as I'd like. So things feel a bit sparse.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

For me? I just don't do it. Unless it's a phrase I am really certain on or it's some fantasy bullshit, I know that I'm shit with other languages. That said, if someone has a good handle on a number of languages, I think they should go for it.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Technically it was Jurassic Park. When I was but a wee bab and long before I knew what fic was, I wrote about some raptors killing people LOL. The first fic I wrote when I knew what fic was I think was a DBZ fic.

19. What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

I actually can't think of any fandom that I'm really in that I haven't written for already. I suppose I haven't written and TLT fic but I never will because there is SO MUCH going on there, I can't even imagine trying. Oh! I haven't written any Hythazemet and would love to because I adore them.

20. What's your favorite fic you've written?

Gosh, IDK. I have a lot that I like for different reasons. So I'm going to cheat and name a few, along with why because they're each different kind of faves. I'm really proud of a lot of For Want of Words. I think the smut is pretty solid and I'm proud of a lot of the writing I have there in general. I also think that And You're To Blame is really good. I thought it was a strong concept and I was quite pleased with how I handled it. Though it wasn't the first GO S2 fic I wrote, it was the first I thought of and I was happy to finish as planned. It's also a bit of a canon divergent AU, which...

I tend to get really attached to my AUs because I put a lot of thought into them. I like to think of a universe where just one notable thing is changed and follow the threads of how everything changes. I don't think that Too Much of a Good Thing is necessarily my strongest writing but I adore it all so much because of that. The Altus Inquisitor has my heart for similar reasons and I really like a lot of the writing there (and I will finish one day, I swear).

And I'm lazy, so if you wanna do this, consider yourself tagged.

#long post #ask memes #about me

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jimlingss · 5 years

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[2/2] The Airport Couple: Park Jimin’s Cock[pit]

CO-WRITTEN WITH @dovechim

Read the spin-off: The Airport Couple: P[ass]enger from Hell

➜ Words: 12k

➜ Genres: Tooth-aching Fluff, Extreme Crack, Smut (dear lord), Pilot!AU

➜ Summary: Talk about Angry Birds, and most people would immediately think of the mobile game app. But within your circle of friends, it stands for something else. It’s synonymous with Park Jimin, one of the most talented pilots from your batch who also just happens to have anger issues, or in other words, air rage. He is your best friend, but when you get teamed up with him as his co-pilot, you can only pray that things don’t go south… literally.

➜ Warnings: handjob, cum all over face (and near the eye which is super dangerous), tons of sexual innuendos, unsafe behaviour on a plane (please don’t do this!! This is a work of fiction only, hence please use discretion if any of you happen to be pilots yourself!)

➜ Notes: this was written with the lovely Addie @dovechim, so if you liked this, please send a sweet message her way as well as mine!! we decided to bring Park Jimin’s potential road rage into the air...lol, also please don’t have sex on a plane if you’re navigating/driving it....anyways, enjoy!

You’re stirred awake by the alarm you set on your phone just four hours ago, and you hurry to turn it off before anyone can complain. The pilot’s lounge is small, and from your position on the upper deck of the double decker bed, you can see a few sleeping bodies stir restlessly. Your schedule says you have an international flight in just over two hours, so you force yourself to climb down as quietly as you can, making your way to the communal bathroom to make yourself presentable to the world. Right now you look like an exhausted witch who’s finally returned to her body after being god knows where, maybe asleep for ten decades. On the way you are accosted by your fellow co pilot, and he has to shake you by the shoulders a few times to really wake you up. “Hey, you checked today’s flight schedule right?” Namjoon says, repeating his question louder when you take a tad too long to answer him, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “Yes, yes…what kind of pilot do you think I am? Of course I checked it. I checked it before my nap.” You brush his hand away, almost losing your grip on your makeup bag in the process. “Let me go, I need to remember how to be awake again.” “No, it’s been changed, you see,” Namjoon clarifies. “I was just notified of the change just an hour ago. Apparently there’s been some reshuffling, and we’re not doing today’s flight together anymore.” The revelation really gives you a wake up call, and you open your eyes wide, scrambling for your phone to check if he’s right. But Namjoon spares you from it. “You’re with Park now. I got pushed to the 2.15 flight to Bangkok tomorrow.” Namjoon finally releases his grip on you, giving you a look that you recognise as pity. Oh god. Thinking that today’s flight would be an easy one as Namjoon’s co pilot, you hadn’t spent much time going through the flight plan like you normally would if you were with Jimin. Flying with Namjoon is an absolute pleasure. The man is so pleasant and nice to talk to, and the two of you often have philosophical discussions while 3000 feet in the air. He really makes the time fly by, literally and figuratively. But Park Jimin… that man is a whole other story. Now you can really feel the panic starting to set in, waking you up more effectively than any cup of coffee. In your entire team, everyone, including you, dreads having Park Jimin as a captain. It’s not that he’s incompetent or anything, it’s just his… less than graceful landings and his absolutely filthy mouth, which would have gotten him kicked off the team were he not so talented. In other words, people say that Park Jimin has road rage. Or in this case, air rage. Immediately thrown into a state of panic, you leave Namjoon in the hallway and rush through your bathroom routine, ignoring the buzzing in your back pocket in favour of making sure you get your makeup done in under five minutes flat. You just manage to answer his third call as you step out of the bathrooms, and Park Jimin barks in your ear right away. “Where are you? We need to review the flight data and fuel gauge. I just finished the aircraft check and—” “Good morning to you too,” you grumble as your heels pinch your toes. “I just found out about the shuffle.” “Aren’t you absolutely thrilled to be my co-pilot?” You can almost see Jimin’s gloat from this end of the line. “I think you really lucked out today. We haven’t done a flight together in… how long? I can’t believe I finally get to pilot a plane with my best friend.” “I’m… um… thrilled of course,” you struggle to inject some enthusiasm into your voice. Park Jimin himself is unaware that people call him the Angry Bird. Of course, you want to spare his feelings as much as possible by keeping it from him, but something tells you that your best friend’s ego is far too big to be deflated just like that. The man knows he’s talented, one of the best pilots in the team. Your standard routine is to get a latte and a sandwich from the airport Starbucks since in-flight meals are absolutely revolting. Then, you’ll contact the scheduling department to confirm your flight check in before going through the standard security checks before doing exterior and cock-pit checks. Jimin is already waiting at Starbucks with your drink and a paper bag, and you wonder if he even slept at all for this early morning flight, but you push those thoughts aside when you realise that he isn’t he isn’t alone. He seems to be talking to one of the air crew...or rather, flirting. “You’re so funny, Jimin!” The head stewardess is giggling softly with a white-gloved hand covering her mouth as if she’s trying to be polite and hide her perfect teeth. Flight attendant uniforms are a lot prettier than your standard white shirt, black trouser duo. She’s wearing a royal blue blazer and pencil skirt that emphasizes her feminine figure perfectly, white shirt and a floral scarf tied into a bow around her neck. Meanwhile, you’re stuck in this terrible dress pants and blouse. You’ve never looked good in pants, and let’s face it, dress pants only look good on men. Your blazer isn’t even fitted for heaven’s sake. You’re almost envious at how stunning she looks, attire hugging her hourglass body shape, yet retaining a classy vintage sort of aesthetic. Her dark hair is tucked into neat bun at the back of her head, a rosy hue staining her lips, wearing enough makeup to make you suspect that she has someone to impress. “Am I?” Jimin laughs obnoxiously and you narrow your eyes at how picturesque they look next to each other, like the perfect couple to represent the airline’s advertisements. You resist the urge to frame them with your fingers just for the sake of it. “I didn’t think my story of accidentally flushing my pet goldfish down the toilet would be that funny. My brother was furious when he realised what happened to Sushi.” The head stewardess brushes her hand on his arm, laughter still bubbling at her pretty lips. She’s practically salivating and drooling all over him. The flirting is hardcore and sickening to observe. “No, you just know how to make others laugh that’s all. You’re too sweet.” “Why, thank you.” Jimin is practically beaming like the motherfucking sun from the praise and you roll your eyes, interrupting with a loud ‘ahem’, noisily like you’re choking on a chicken bone. Jimin turns and his brows raise, a bigger and more genuine grin spreading through his face. “______!” “You’re here early,” you comment as you take your drink and sandwich from him, peeking into the bag to confirm that he bought you your favourite: tuna and egg mayo. “I was up early to iron this,” Jimin beams as he puffs up his chest to show off his pilot’s uniform, consisting of a navy blue blazer and white dress shirt, and dress pants to match. He tugs on his tie a bit before smoothing it out with his hands. “Didn’t I iron it well? It took me almost two hours. And I even shined my shoes too!” “It looks great, Jimin! You look so sharp and handsome,” the girl at his side almost coos, and it makes the coffee in your mouth turn bitter. She places an arm on his bicep to get Jimin’s attention even though it’s clear that his questions were directed at you, and Jimin glances at her for a brief second. “Oh, ______, this is Yoonji. She’s flying with us later, and we just happened to run into each other just before you came.” You give her a brief nod. Typically, you don’t really interact with the flight crew until an hour before departure, but you suppose that it wouldn’t hurt to get on more friendly terms with them. Jimin has bragged to you a million times about how he was able to get non-alcoholic champagne delivered to the cockpit just because he was close to a stewardess or two, on the rare occasion even snagging a first class meal of lobster tail. But you prefer to keep to yourself even if it means having to scarf down a lunch of overcooked, dry beef lasagna. Something about the way she’s clinging on to Jimin’s arm and shooting him looks of adoration sets you on edge, and you give Jimin a nudge. “We need to get through customs. How did you already review the flight plan?” You start to walk towards the departures area and Jimin tags along after saying a hasty goodbye. “That’s fast. I thought you only checked the revised schedule an hour ago.” “Oh, I was finishing up another flight simulation when Namjoon texted me to tell me,” Jimin answers, checking his reflection in a passing surface. “So the hardworking me thought I might as well just call up the flight plan and get it done.” You turn to frown at him. “Wait, another flight sim? Isn’t this your third one this week? Park, are you even sleeping anymore? You realise that you have a bed at home that needs to be used right?” Jimin seems to be a little embarrassed to be called out like this, as he rubs the back of his neck. “Yoongi assigned me a couple more. Said it was because I got several complaints about my landing last time.” “Yoongi…? Isn’t that…the name of the flight stewardess just now?” Your first instinct is to jump to his defense. “And was it the early AM flight to Japan last week? Come on… I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.” You’re lying. Namjoon had been the one to co pilot that flight with him, and when he got back he’d told you that there was so much turbulence mid-flight that two passengers threw up, and another three had to request for medical attention for their migraines. And the weather had been perfectly fine. His landing had been rough as usual, even though he swears it’s because “the Narita airport has an uneven runway”. Usually on flights with him you try to schedule it so that he does takeoffs and you do landings, but that sometimes it can’t be helped, the shifts don’t rotate that way. If Pilot Jimin has one flaw, it would be rough landings. Everything else he excels at, flight rage aside. “No, no, that was Yoonji, this is Yoongi,” Jimin clarifies with a wave of his hands before sighing melodramatically. “And I know right? My flight hours must have doubled in the last month alone.” Security check is sped up for air crew since you already know the process like the back of your hand, and you and Jimin are through to the airside and on your way to the plane to carry out the cockpit checks. On the way, you review all the information given, from the weather to the number of passengers and the other crew members working on the same flight. And after both you and Jimin work out the flight plan, you file with air traffic control. That’s when your phone rings, right as you’re on your way to meet with the rest of the crew in the crew’s waiting lounge just before you board the plane. The first thing you hear is cackling, so loud that it might as well been a blow horn in your ears. You wince, taking the mobile device off your ear and hoping your eardrums aren’t permanently damaged. Immediately, Jimin looks over with concern, but you don’t give him a chance to ask. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Jin?” You speak sharply and the man continues with his shrill laughs on the other line. “You’re co-piloting for Jimin?!” Seokjin is in absolute hysterics and you can only imagine his punchable face behind your eyelids. “Rest in peace, ______. I hope you survive and if not, I’ll leave a nice note in your obituary. The entire control tower is panicking right now, it’s hilarious.” “What’s he saying?” Jimin invades your personal space, putting his face in front of yours to steal back your attention and also being too curious for his own good. “Nothing. Just that he’s going to be our air traffic control officer and he’s excited since it’s you and he’ll have an easy time,” you manage to lie and Jimin stands straighter, a huge smile plastered across his cheeks, satisfied from the praise. Jin continues laughing chaotically on the other-line. “Oh my god, you are so whipped for him. Why do you even bother trying to save his ego? Do you want some of his ass that bad? I’ll admit, it’s a pretty good fucking ass, plump like two giant pumpkins in a pumpkin patch, but damn dude, even my thirst wouldn’t let me lie that far—” You close your eyes at the very descriptive imagery of your pilot’s ass. No, you can’t be thinking about Park Jimin’s ass right now, not when you’re about to be stuck in a cockpit with him for the next six hours, alone. Damn it, you really don’t need this right now. “I know, right? Jimin's a great captain. He aced all the exams back in the academy and gave me a run for my money.” You give some awkward laughter and Jimin’s practically floating beside you, glowing like a flashlight from the compliments he hears coming out of your mouth. His pink cheeks looks like they’ll burst any second now. “Oh, the weather’s still good? That’s great! Not too cloudy either?” “Look, all I’m saying is that Jimin’s got some...air rage and you seem to be the only one who makes it better. In all the flights I’ve done with him, I must say you have a special talent for containing the Park Rage. ” Jin barely composes himself and he mumbles something about his job. “If I had to guess, I’d think that you had some special way of calming him down, and what calms a man down faster than anything? A blowjob. Or just a simple handy really. Props to you for handling all that equipment so well, a joystick in one hand and-” “KIM SEOKJIN!!!!!!” You yell out his name to stop him from his tirade, all too aware that Jimin could overhear him at any second. Your breath is coming in flustered pants and Jimin is staring at you in concern, even raising a hand to your forehead to check if you have a temperature. You bat his hand away hurriedly to keep some distance in between the two of you as you realise that Seokjin is still rambling. Something about not getting the controls wet… “Seokjin, uh, we have to check in now so talk to you later! Bye!” “-should maybe just swallow to save you the trouble- alright alright, just say safe, okay? That goes for the both of you. Good luck. And for the love of god, don’t crash the plane.” “Wow, that’s some solid advice. Very good. I’ll have to write that down.” Jimin is infamous everywhere he goes and at this point, every airport knows his name. But his turbulence really isn’t that bad. And you’re not just defending him because he’s your best friend and those are your obligated duties. Most passengers don’t mind that it’s a bumpy ride since he always gets to the destination half-an-hour faster. Sure, one time he accidentally left the intercom on the whole flight and everyone heard him cursing and swearing. But it isn’t that terrible. “Ooh, what was all that about?” Your best friend’s eyes glimmer when you hang up the phone. You frown. “What do you mean?” “You and Seokjin….?” Jimin wiggles his brows up and down, even playfully nudging you. But even if he’s joking around, your heart is pierced. But like instead of Cupid aiming its bow at you, he’s stabbing you over and over again with an arrow. You can’t believe Jimin would even insinuate such a thing and be seemingly not affected at all. Goes to show his flirting means nothing. It’s time to get your head out of the gutter. “Oh god, no.” You shake your head. “No, not at all.” “That’s some passionate denial,” he muses. “What about you and the head stewardess?” You raise your own brows, clearing your throat and stealing a glance at him. “Planning to get it on with her? In all honesty, she’s hot. Even I’d smash that, so….” “You mean Yoonji?” Jimin’s lips are pouty and he shrugs. “Maybe. I dunno know. I don’t even know where I’d take her.” “You can’t take her anywhere,” you snort before nudging him this time. “How can you take her on a date if you can’t even drive a car.” It’s ironic, really. Park Jimin can drive a plane, but not a motorized vehicle. You’ll never stop giving him shit for it. One time, you tried to take it upon yourself and teach him how to drive. All you remember about that day is a barrage of swearing, Jimin’s fists pounding against the horn, and a few near miss altercations. After that day, you had to replace the battery for your car’s horn, and designate yourself to be his driver for the rest of your life. “Heyyyy, we can always take the bus.” He nudges you back, making you stumble on your feet as squeaky giggles stream from his mouth. “You wouldn't mind taking the bus with me.” “You’re right, I wouldn’t,” you mutter bitterly, the singleness of your life suddenly hitting you hard. Maybe Jin’s right. Maybe you are too whipped for your friend. Somehow, you suspect Jimin’s innocent smiles and whiny, clingy personality that plagued you for all these years was a tactic to lock you down and keeping you single forever, pinning after something that can never be achieved. Of course. The bastard would do something like that. You really need to go on a date soon….or at least get a decent dicking. “You’re frowning again.” He pokes the scrunch between your brows and you flinch. Jimin laughs and throws an arm around your shoulder, patronizing you as if you were his younger sibling. “Y’know, I still haven’t gotten my thank you yet. I had to stand in a ten minute line to get your favourite sandwich and I even got your favourite coffee. I remembered how many sugars and creams. Tell me I did a good job.” Sometimes, you’re baffled at how shameless he is. “You did a good job,” you state impassively, not even hesitating or bothering to make eye contact with him before taking another sip of your drink. Jimin’s arm suddenly tightens around your neck, making you choke on your coffee and wheeze. He pulls you closer, lips pursed in a tight-line. “I’d more genuine about that, ______,” he whispers lowly in your ear. Immediately, you pull him off of you, gaining some distance and making it easier to breathe. And it’s not because of the near choke hold he had with his biceps around your neck. Your thumb shoots up, a twitching grin lifting on your cheeks, and you inhale. “Wow~ you can stand in a line for ten minutes?! Amazing! You are the strongest. The mightiest. Park Jimin, everybody. You are my biggest role model. I can’t believe you even paid for me?! What a kind hearted man. Truly. The. Best!” Jimin laughs so hard he folds his entire body in half. “That’s not what I mean!” Despite getting embarrassed from your excessive, exaggerated praise and the people around who shoot you two odd looks, you can tell the little shit loves every second of your attention. “C’mon, hurry up.” You tug on his sleeve, dragging him away with your own smile on your face. “Everyone’s waiting for us. We’re going to be late.” As much as Jimin fucks around, what surprises you the most is how serious he can be about his job. It nearly gives you whiplash at the change in personality. From boyish and aggravatingly annoying to being professional and stern. Times like these, you remember why you don’t run for the hills whenever he’s around. Even though you’ve all signed the flight release forms about a thousand times, Jimin still takes the time to read through every word before inking his name at the bottom. And when it’s time to meet the rest of the crew, he greets every single one of them by name, making them feel at ease with his lame jokes. Jimin truly is the mood maker of your team. “Ready for the cock-pit check, co captain?” Jimin shoots you a grin as he pauses at the doorway of the plane, making a grand sweeping gesture as he bows his head. “Ladies first.” “Didn’t think you’d pass up on a chance for an innuendo there,” you give him a wry smile as you make your way into the cockpit, retrieving the flight log and preparing to go through it and make sure that any required inspections and repairs to the aircraft have been duly carried out. “If you wanted to inspect my cock, you could have just said so,” Jimin grins from ear to ear, as if he was just waiting for you to bring it up. He seats himself in the pilot’s position, going through the controls and making sure everything is in working order. You let out a loud groan in response, rolling your eyes at him. “And there goes my last shred of respect for you.” The two of you work in silence for a moment, like a well oiled machine as Jimin goes through the position and the operation of the plane’s systems before recording them meticulously onto the flight log that you pass to him. He inspects your work with a thorough glance before signing at the bottom, and you move on to contacting the control tower for a weather update. “This is KR130 to control tower. KR130 departing from Incheon, Seoul, destination Hong Kong. Estimated departure time is 11.40AM, flight duration 4 hours. Requesting pre departure weather report.” “Control tower to KR130,” Seokjin radios back. “Weather report is slightly cloudy, wind speed is…. Ah you know what, I’m lazy to read this all out. I’ve sent it to your printer and you can read it yourself.” You make sure the radio is off before asking yourself why you even bother radioing him if he’s just going to send you all the information by bluetooth to your in-flight printer anyway. The printer sputters to life behind you, and you spin around on your chair to grab the stacks of papers it spits out to review while Jimin is doing the external walk around to examine the body of the plane. This is another reason why you’ve harboured a secret crush on Jimin for this long — he is considerate beyond belief. By doing most of the external checks, he saves you from having to go out into the cold and brave the winds in your heels. When he returns, his cheeks are red and his nose is pink, his hair windswept as he rubs his hands together rapidly. You have to physically stop yourself from reaching over to pinch his cheeks and rub them in between your own hands, instead you have to keep your thoughts about how cute he looks like this to yourself. “Weather report done?” Jimin blows into his clasped hands as he takes his seat again. “Done, passenger count done too. The plane should be boarding right about now,” you check the time on your watch. Everything seems to be set so far. The check-lists are finished, the inspection for emergency equipment, electrical circuit breakers and the departure briefing has been completed as well. “Hmm, well we’re done with the pre flight checks, wanna go greet the passengers?” Jimin adjusts a few more levers and switches before turning to you. His eyes are sparkling with excitement and you know interacting with travelers was one of Jimin’s favourite parts about the job. You don’t mind it either since it was always interesting to see where everyone was going and for what reason. Often times, you’d like to play games inside your head, guessing if they are traveling for work or personal reasons, or maybe something crazy like a husband running off on a rendezvous with his mistress who’s actually a private investigator hired by the wife. Things get wild in your mind sometimes. “Alright, let’s go.” When you both leave the cockpit, a few first-class passengers have already boarded and Yoonji, the head stewardess is standing with her hands folded together, pretty smile placed on her lips. As passengers enter, she bows from her waist and Jimin nods with his hands behind his back. “Welcome to Asiana Airlines! We hope you enjoy the flight!” “Hello!” Yoonji is so pretty, you can’t stop staring at her. She has clear skin, a perfectly oval face, long lashes, pink cheeks, bright eyes — you think you might actually be falling in love with her. It’s no wonder Jimin’s so smitten with the woman; the one peek she steals at your partner in crime, the shy smile she gives, it has you swooning. “Hello! Good afternoon! Welcome to Asiana Airlines!” The trance you’re in is shattered when Jimin roughly nudges you. “______.” He smiles when he finally has your full attention again. “You never told me what you thought about my ironed uniform. See? I ironed it. It took a lot of work!” “Yes, yes,” you mutter to appease him. “It’s very well done.” “And I packed really well too! TSA didn’t stop me this time. Did you notice?” You’re not sure why he’s being embarrassing directly in front of other people like this. Usually he would bring his attention-starved puppy nature in private, gloat at your praise when it’s just the two of you. You’re about to shove him to the ground, but Yoonji turns around instead with a small giggle. “You’re really cute, Jimin,” she says with a blazing smile. That little shit. Was he really using you to get a compliment from another girl instead?! The audacity! You’re about to give him a piece of his mind, struck with hurt that you were used in such a way, but then Jimin quirks his head to the side, giving the stewardess the most blank expression. “I was asking ______, not you.” She blinks. You whirl your head towards him, brows furrowing, wholly confused. The head stewardess opens her mouth, maybe to apologize for interrupting your private conversation, but then someone staggers onto the plane, pushing up her little reading spectacles and croaking out, “Excuse me, dear. Could I get some help?” “Certainly.” Yoongi steps towards her and helps with the old woman’s luggage. “Oh, thank you. I just can’t seem to find where my seat number is on this ticket. They ought to have it bigger, at least for people like me.” “Let’s see here. You’re in 27C. Let me help you!” The head stewardess kindly leads the old woman down the aisle, swiftly avoiding other passengers who are getting settled and putting the baggage in the overhead bins. When she’s out of earshot distance, you spin towards your captain with a scowl and a harsh whisper. “What was all that about?” He’s unfazed, batting his lashes innocently. “What do you mean?” “I mean you were kind of a jerk just now,” you sigh out with arms crossed. “You were a blatant rude asshole and it came out of nowhere.” “Would you rather me be nice to her then?” Jimin raises his brows, eyeing you carefully. “You want me to flirt with her?” “I-....I mean...I...” You’re stuttering like a damn fool and it takes a deep breath before you get a grip on yourself. “I don’t want you to be a douchebag. Did you get a stroke, dude? Aren’t you trying to win a date with her?” “I never said that. Not once. You said that, but never me.” There’s a glimmer of mischief in his eyes and he bumps his shoulder with yours. “Frankly, I don’t want to win a date with anyone, but you.” “Oh my god.” You roll your eyes to the back of your skull. “Don’t even, Park. I’m trying to have a serious conversation here. For once, can you just not be yourself?” Jimin laughs and you decide it’s better to ignore him. Passengers come filing through the door, greeting you with anticipating and nervous smiles. You greet them one by one, wishing them a good flight. But it still doesn’t stop Jimin from being an ass and purposely enjoying how he gets onto your nerves. When you tell someone you like their hair, he asks you what you think of his hair. You’d sucker punch him in the gut to get him to stop, but you’d rather not get filmed and go viral on YouTube with a viral clickbait title: ‘PILOTS FIGHT TO DEATH (GONE WRONG) (GONE SEXUAL) POLICE 9-11 CALLED!’ As you’re trying to peel a clingy Jimin off your side and try your best to disregard his annoying behaviour, another person captures your attention, or rather, the cutest goddamn child you’ve ever seen. The four-year old has a massive Mickey Mouse backpack that’s bigger than his entire torso, larger than his vibrant green overalls and hanging on his shoulders. His black hair is ruffled and sticking up like he hasn’t run a comb through it since yesterday. Yet, despite appearing like he just woke up from a nap, his large eyes are alert, wide and bright. He runs onto the plane and looks in every single direction like a hyperactive hyena ready to run wild. “Hi!” You lean down with a tiny smile. “Hello there…” Deep down inside you pity the stewardesses- they’re going to have a lot on their hands for this flight. As for you, the soundproof, access denied cockpit is the main reason why you can coo over this cute little tyrant. “Is this the plane?!” He’s leaning back to look at the two of you, grinning and amazed as if you’re the biggest heroes in the world. “You bet it is, bud.” Jimin smiles, amused with the child and having his heart strings tugged. As many rude and irritated passengers that you get, once in a wild even getting an unruly one that needs to be removed, there were some travelers that make up for the bad ones. “This is so cool!” The child hops both feet like a rabbit on a sugar-high. His hair flops as he jumps. “Does this plane shoot guns?!” “I wish.” Jimin’s brows furrow slightly in disappointment, though his lips remain upturned “But unfortunately, this isn’t a fighter jet. We’re just a normal commercial plane.” Thank god. You can’t even begin to imagine what would happen if Jimin had access to deadly arsenals in the air. He might just open fire on the unfortunate bird who decided to cross his flight path. “What’s there?” The kid leans over, looking between your legs towards the door. “It’s my cock……..—pit.” Jimin adds on the last syllable a few seconds later and he has a sheepish smile when you glare at him. “It’s where we sit and drive the plane.” The boy hums and nods rapidly, almost breaking his neck doing so. Then his irises glitter as he gazes up at you. “Can I drive the plane?” “You need a licence.” You try to let him down gently, scared of disappointing him. “Give it a few years and with some hard work, maybe you can one day!” He doesn’t seem that broken-hearted over the news and moves onto his next curious question, so straightforward that it nearly gives you whiplash. “What happens if we fall in the sky?” “Uh, hopefully that won’t happen.” “Don’t worry.” Jimin’s hand lifts and he squeezes your shoulder reassuringly while gazing softly at your profile. “If it does, I’ll catch you.” You turn to him with yet another look, unable to discern whether he means you or the kid, but this time you can’t help the tiny smile that graces your features. “We’ll burn and crash together, idiot.” “Hoseok!” The child’s parents finally appear, lugging all their belongings with them. You suppose it must be a family vacation and it seems like the mom needs it. She appears exhausted and you’re sympathetic. “I’m sorry, he’s such a handful.” “Not at all. We’re happy to have him onboard!” And you really mean it. You haven’t seen such an eager passenger in a long while. “This is the first time he’s been on a plane,” his father says and takes Hoseok’s hand while two duffle bags are piled on his shoulders. “Really?” Jimin squats down. “Well guess you’re in for a real surprise, buddy. It’s going to be great!” With Jimin as captain, it’ll be more like a roller coaster. But they don’t need to know that. The two parents wave goodbye, expressing their gratitude for taking the time to indulge in their son’s curiosity. Hoseok waves as well, shouting a shrill ‘see you later’ that has first-class passengers glaring. You watch as they walk down the aisle towards economy class and Jimin gets back on his feet, glancing at your profile before leaning over and whispering in your ear, “You like children?” “The cute ones,” you muse with a shrug. “Well, if you ever want a kid, I can help you with that…” Jimin peeks at you slyly, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards when his pupils glance at your pink lips. “....just make sure you don’t accidentally swallow it.” “Jimin!” Your face heats up immediately at his implication and he relishes in your expression. “Our kid would be cute, right?” Jimin has a cheeky smile. “You gotta admit, they’d be one beautiful baby.” It’s harder and harder to brush him off, and you’re at a loss for words. Just the thought of being in that position, on your knees sucking him off makes it harder to breathe, and it’s not the stale recycled air of the plane that’s affecting you. You have no idea whether he’s joking or not, but he’s never been this direct before. You don’t want to shut him down for fear of him simply laughing at you and telling you to lighten up, so instead of answering you turn away from him and head toward the safety of the cockpit to prepare for takeoff. Once inside the cockpit, you know you’re saved because of the sterile cockpit rules that allow only essential communication between pilot and co-pilot. It only lasts till the plane reaches an altitude of 10,000 feet, but at this point you can’t exactly put a wall between you and Jimin, so that’ll have to do for now. “KR130 to Control Tower, permission to begin taxi,” you say into the radio after you seat yourself on Jimin’s right hand. “Permission granted, begin taxi toward runway 12,” Seokjin’s reply comes back over the air. With clearance from air traffic, you reach for the plane’s intercom and flick it on. “Good morning, this is your co-pilot ______ speaking. A very warm welcome to Asiana Airlines, this is flight KR130 from Seoul, Incheon to Hong Kong, and we thank you for flying with us today. Our flight this morning is an estimated four hours, and we are currently second in line for take-off. We ask that you kindly remain in your seats with the seatbelts fastened, with your seats and the table tray in upright position and secure all baggage in the overhead compartments. Smoking is strictly prohibited aboard this aircraft. Thank you for choosing Asiana Airlines and enjoy your flight.” Jimin flicks a few switches to fire up the engines and double checks the critical airspeed as the plane slowly rumbles into a slow amble toward the active runway. It continues to taxi for a few minutes till the signal for takeoff crackles over the radio. On Seokjin’s cue, you flick on the intercom again. “Cabin crew please arm doors and cross check.” “Cross check complete,” Yoonji replies. “Cabin crew please be seated for takeoff,” you impart your final instructions over the intercom as Jimin begins to rev up the engines and the plane roars to life. The initial thrust of the plane sends a thrill singing through your veins as the whirr of the engines sound in your ears. The plane begins to pick up speed, and you keep an eye on the speed gauge in order to alert Jimin when the critical airspeed is reached. “V1,” you alert him when the plane’s speed reaches the critical value in which the take-off must be performed, and Jimin barely acknowledges you with a nod. Shortly after, you alert him again, “VR.” That’s when he starts to lift the plane’s nose into the air, and the rest of its body follows as it glides into the air seamlessly. You feel the lift of the plane in the pit of your stomach as you monitor the altitude, retracting the flaps and wheels once you reach 400ft. You work in silence for a moment, busying yourself with after-take off and climb checklists while Jimin mans the helm, occasionally communicating with air traffic control and monitoring the atmospheric pressure, making changes should there be a need to. Once the aircraft reaches above an altitude of 10,000 feet, Jimin switches over onto autopilot, reaching over to your side to flick on the intercom, his hands dangerously near your thighs. “Good morning ladies and gentlemen,” he says into the intercom with a charming smile that resonates in the smooth lilt of his voice. “This is your very handsome captain Park Jimin speaking. I’m pleased to welcome you aboard flight KR130, we are currently cruising at an altitude of 30,000 feet at an airspeed of 400 miles an hour. The current local time is 11:53AM, the weather looks good and with the current tailwind on our side we are looking to reach Hong Kong an estimated 15 minutes ahead of schedule. The cabin crew will be coming around in about twenty minutes time to offer you a light snack and beverage, and the inflight movie will begin shortly after that. I'll talk to you again before we reach our destination. Until then, sit back, relax and enjoy the rest of the flight.” You’ve always admired the professional ease with which Park Jimin does his announcements. His voice over the airwaves sounds absolutely melodic and entirely at ease, and the look on his face tells you that it’s one of his favourite parts about flying as well. Unlike you, announcements come easily to him, the words just flow from his lips and he doesn’t seem the least bit nervous at all. Focusing your attention straight ahead to keep yourself from ruminating over the side profile of his pouty lips, you hope and pray for this flight to go by quickly. “Jimin, it looks like there are some dark clouds ahead,” you caution him, frowning as you cross check Seokjin’s weather report once more. Jimin notices the clouds too, and he begins to swear under his breath, and that’s when it all begins. Park Jimin’s famous air rage. “Fucking Kim Seokjin, sunny weather and slight wind? What kind of idiot does he think I am? All those flight plans gone to waste...” He mutters to himself as he begins to make calculations and calibrations to alter the flight path, keeping an eye on the atmospheric pressure at the same time. “At this rate he should be a weatherman instead, that way he’ll at least have a fucking reason to be wrong all the time!!!” You are working furiously to support his calibrations, attempting to radio back to the control tower to get an update on the weather. Jimin grunts under his breath as he tosses the report aside. “Forget it, it’s fucking useless. KIM SEOKJIN YOU PIECE OF SHIT, MOVE THOSE FUCKING CLOUDS NOW OR ELSE!!!!” Make no doubt about it, Park Jimin may seem like a cute angel who can do no evil, but catch him in a mood like this… He is practically roaring in that tiny little cockpit, so much so that you even wince a little at how loud he gets. “Jimin,” you caution him. “It’s just the weather, you know control tower can’t do anything about that-” That’s when you notice the red light of the intercom still flickering, and you gasp, diving toward it to switch it off immediately. Jimin whips his head around to stare at you when he hears your gasp, raising an eyebrow in question, anticipating some sort of problem.

“No, no, everything’s fine,” you wave a hand at him. “It’s just um… you forgot to turn off the intercom.” And that unleashes a whole litany of curses once more, after he makes sure the intercom button is securely turned off, that is. Your temples are throbbing, imagining the uproar that must be occurring in the cabins right about now. Kim Seokjin is going to have a field day when he hears about this. You can already hear his window wiper laughter in your mind. And when you close your eyes you can see the stack of reports waiting to be written about this incident, all courtesy of Mr Park Jimin of course. “Fuck. these. birds!” “What did birds ever do to you?” You’re slightly amused at how cute and small Jimin is when he’s been reduced to a ball of anger, and another part of you has accepted that this is who he is. He’s still a good pilot...with only a quirk or two. “Exist,” he spits out. “And get in my way.” The worst thing that could happen is if he busted a vein at his temple or got a heart attack from high-blood pressure, so you try to placate him. “Calm down, Jimin.” “Don’t tell me to calm down,” he huffs out and shoots you a glare, caught up in his fury to act rationally. “You act as if I’m unreasonably angry.” Trying to reason him is like trying to use logic with a child. “Well, maybe because you are unreasonably angry.” There’s a moment of silence. You heave a sigh of relief, happy that it’s over. It’s not like you like arguing with your best friend and it’s not like you bicker often either. But then— “I am your captain. That’s no way to speak to me.” “Excuse me?!” Your mouth drops and your brows shoot upwards, turning to look at the profile of his impassive face. “We’re friends, but when we work together, I still have seniority over you,” Jimin says and the sudden cold tone shocks your system. “For one, you’re supposed to call me ‘sir’ and you do as I tell you.” You scoff, unable to believe he’s redirecting his air rage onto you. “Or else what? What are you gonna do?” “...I’ll throw you off this plane.”

“Oh my god.” It’s so outrageous, you feel steam coming out of your ears, your pressurized temper blowing off its cap. “That sounds like a fantastic idea! Just strap a parachute to my back and throw your co-pilot off this plane! The airline would fucking love that, wouldn’t they?!” “Why can’t you agree with me on anything?!” Jimin’s frown deepens and his pitch increases in volume to match yours. “You don’t think these birds and fucking clouds are annoying as shit?!” “These are petty issues, Jimin!” You throw your arms into the air. “It doesn’t even matter!” “It does matter!” He’s screaming over you. “If you knew better, you would actually help me instead of trying to tell me to calm down which mind you does not help with the situation at all!” “Well sorry for actually giving a shit and not wanting your pilot license to be taken away!” The two of you bicker back and forth. This isn’t what either of you want, but maybe if you weren’t so caught up in it, you’d realize that something was off. “Why the fuck would it be taken away?! I’m the best goddamn pilot this airline has seen!” “Yeah, but you’re swearing and screaming! What sane person would fly beside you?!” Jimin barks out a chilling laugh before staring into your eyes. “You would!” “Guess I’m not sane then! Guess you’re not the crazy one! I am!” It’s infuriating how you’ve become unhinged and lost all control of your emotions. Now you’re the raging one and it’s unsightly. “Is that what you’re trying to say?! Well, Sherlock, I’m not the one screaming at clouds and birds, alright?!” “Goddammit, _____.” Jimin is as upset as you are and he sits back. “I wanted this to be perfect, okay?!” You shake your head, yet another scoff coming from your mouth. “Why the fuck does that matter?!” He’s so utterly frustrating at the moment, you want to throttle him and throw him out the front window. You hate how he can get under your skin. You hate how this entire thing has spiraled out of hand. More importantly, you hate Jim— “Because I wanted to impress you!” “.....” There’s a second of complete silence. His crisp voice reverberates around the small cockpit, piercing through the white noise of the aircraft’s engine, and it echos into your mind. You are bewildered to say the least. “What?” Jimin sighs and runs a hand through his hair, pushing his bangs back before his hands return to the controls. He swallows hard and continues looking straight ahead, avoiding your intense gaze. “I know you’ve been avoiding me. Why?” “I have not!” Your defense is weak. “Don’t accuse me—” “You think I’m that stupid, don’t you?! You think I’m blind? I heard from Namjoon and I saw the look on your face this morning!” He’s still angry and frustrated, but the hurt in his timbre is all too evident and even though you’re still supposed to be irritated with him, instead you feel an overwhelming sense of guilt. “You didn’t want to be my co-pilot!” “T-that’s not true!” “You’re a liar! You’ve been trying to switch every single time we have the same schedule together! Why?!” No matter how many times he’s thought about it, he can’t seem to work it out inside his mind. “Did I do something wrong?! Am I really that bad that you’re scared to be next to me?!” “No! Fuck—” Jimin finally turns to you. His dark locks flop back into place, brushing over his forehead in a disarray. His soft eyes gaze back into yours, his deep irises meeting yours. His plump lips part slightly, inhaling a slight breath. “Or is it because you finally realize you’re in love with me?!” Shit. “What the fuck—” “You think I wouldn’t notice?! I felt you hold my hand when we were asleep on that trip to Barcelona!” Somehow, this fight has led to you being on the witness stand as Jimin questions you to death, pushing you into a corner to admit your crimes. One moment you’re both yelling at each other and the next, you find out that he’s been onto you for the past year. You’re still reeling, getting whiplash at how the exchange morphed so quickly. “And that time we were in Bangkok and I got food poisoning, you kissed me when you thought I was asleep!” “I kissed your forehead!” “So you admit it?!” This is humiliating. This is absolutely embarrassing and now you really wish you had taken that offer of being thrown off the plane when the opportunity was given. Maybe you can throw yourself off the plane instead. “You really think I wouldn’t know?! We’ve been friends for what? Nine years now?! I can read you like a book!” “Oh really?!” You challenge him, still not backing down. “Then what am I thinking now?” Jimin steals a glimpse of you before turning back to the open skies ahead. He has the biggest grin plastered over his chubby cheeks and you think it might break his goddamn face. “You’re in love with me!” “Oh my god! Fine! I am in love with you, dumbass!” It’s out in the open. No more secrets. And admitting your feelings lights your face on fire. You’re sure you’re going to wake up screaming for the rest of your life about this nightmare of a conversation. “Happy now?!” He lets out a ‘hmph’, like the cocky bastard that he is. “Very!” “I’ve been trying to sort this shit out ever since I fucking caught feelings and now you’re stepping all over me for it?! You force me to confess just so you can get a free ego boost? Thanks, jerk!” The pair of you are so childish, it’s painful, but at this very moment, you don’t care. You’re just trying to hold yourself together, forcing yourself not to start crying out of shame. It’s frustrating because you can’t even storm off or leave him in the dust. You have a plane to fly. And you can’t imagine what the next four hours is going to be like. “I get it, okay?! You’re not interested! So, I’ll deal with this myself! You can fuck Yoonji in peace!” “The hell, woman!” He whirls his neck over, frown gracing his features. “Have you heard anything that comes out of my mouth?! I never said I was fucking her!” “You didn’t need to! She’s practically moaning when you look at her!” “Fuck these fucking birds,” Jimin mumbles before turning to you once more. “Look, I’m in love with you too.” “What?” “Yeah and I have been for some time now—” He’s interrupted by some knocking on the door. Then, there’s the sound of someone punching the touchpad code in. In another moment, the head stewardess has her slight head peeking in, not to disturb the two of you. “Um, is everything okay?” Yoonji asks with pouty lips and a concerned expression. “We heard some shouting.” “Um, everything’s fine.” You smile at her, wondering how loud you both were to leak sound from the supposedly soundproof door. “Yeah, we had one or two…misunderstandings, that’s all.” “Oh, okay.” She nods, put at ease with your reassurance. “Would you like some drinks?” “Sure. I’ll...um...have some water.” Jimin clears his throat and nods as well. “I’ll take a coffee.” “Any creams or sugars?” The pretty stewardess has her hands folded together, scarf perfectly tied, eyes glistening as they pin onto the man beside you. She hangs onto every word of his. “No, I’m fine. Actually...just one cream.” “Okay.” It’s excruciatingly slow and awkward. It reminds you of when waitresses at restaurants come by to pour water and the conversation just completely dies as the both of you watch her. It feels like her movements are that of a turtle’s; she’s taking forever just to finish pouring and bringing your drinks over. “Here you go and here you go. Would you like anything else? Any meals or anything? We have peanut snacks and lightly-salted crackers. There’s also some chicken, beef, or vegetable rice available.” “I think we’re okay for now, thank you.” Jimin is curt, brushing her off and not paying any mind when she’s straight on staring at him. The tension in the small space can be cut with a knife and you’re beginning to break a sweat from it. “Alright.” She smiles meekly, preparing to leave and completely unaware of what was transpiring before she interrupted. “Just call me if you need anything.” “Thanks.” It’s deadly silent. The conversation takes its time to sink into your skin. There’s a full ten minutes of you and Jimin purely focusing on driving the plane and flying safely through the clouds. He looks forward, trying to decrease the turbulence with the oncoming wind, and you keep your eyes trained outside the window. He only mutters every so often under his breath before taking sips of his coffee to calm himself down. Eventually, you can’t bare it anymore and you glance at him, clearing your throat. His ears perk at the sound and you brace yourself. “That takeoff…….it was pretty smooth.” “Thanks.” “You did a good job.” You swallow hard. “And...uh….you dealt with the changes in the weather well.” The corner of Jimin’s mouth twitches, threatening to spread into a smile. He muses how you know exactly where to hit his weakest spots. He can’t help but indulge in your compliments. “I know.” “You’re a good pilot.” You capitalise on his number one weakness, unashamed to use it to your advantage. Jimin has always softened like putty in your hands every time you pay him a compliment. It wouldn’t hurt to lay it on thick. “You look really handsome in your pilot’s uniform, I can’t believe you ironed it so well.” Jimin is full on fighting with himself not to just break out into a fit of giggles as he maintains a straight face. He glances over at you and casts his eyes down your body. “You look nice too. In that suit. Your… legs are nice.” You almost spit out your water. Jimin isn’t the type to return compliments, usually he’s too busy basking in them, and although he does sound a little awkward, you can tell that he really means it. You’re at a loss for words because that means… that he’s actually taken notice of you? In this grubby little pantsuit? Suddenly the atmosphere in the cockpit has changed. It’s no longer tense or charged with the weight of both your tempers, it now borders upon uncharted territory, and your mind feels as foggy as the sky outside. While Jimin has almost all of his attention on the route in front of him, trying to steer the plane through the worst of the turbulence, you can’t help but crave for more of his compliments. Wait, when did the tables turn so suddenly? “Wh-what about my legs?” You hazard a glance at him, and when Jimin looks over at you in confusion, you clear your throat. “You know, I was just thinking about how unequal this relationship is. I always give you the most detailed compliments, and you never return any of them.” You can see Jimin visibly struggling to get his words out. His jaw is clenched and a muscle jumps in his cheek, and you can feel your breath catch in your chest. Finally, Jimin reaches over to hit the autopilot setting again and turns his gaze to you. And when he does, his gaze is absolutely predatory. “That’s my bad then, how shall I begin to make it up to you?” Jimin swivels his chair so that he’s facing you, and you can see his knees spread outwards, drawing your gaze up to his crotch in those deliciously tight pants of his. “What about my legs?” You purposely cross one leg over the other to draw his attention to them and you pretend to be disinterested when actually… you’re thinking of a way to get him to say that you have better legs than that beautiful bitch, Yoonji. “Most people usually use a scale for reference when they give compliments…” And then your eyes slide over to the entrance of the cockpit, giving him an extra hint. Jimin follows your gaze and smirks to himself when he realises what you want. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t tease you for a bit first. “Your legs are really long,” he starts off, running his eyes slowly down from your hips all the way to your toes. “And they’d look really good wrapped around my waist.” Your breath hitches in your chest as your thighs clench involuntarily. Jimin’s eagle eyes catch the subtle movement and he raises an eyebrow. But you’re not letting him off the hook that easily. “What else?” “I was also thinking of how they’d look like resting on my shoulders,” Jimin rubs his chin thoughtfully, licking his lips as he pretends to ponder. “And how my finger marks would look like on your inner thighs.” He is infuriating. By now you can see from the smirk on Jimin’s face that he knows exactly what you want to hear. “And?” Jimin makes a humming noise in the back of his throat, ever the tease. You decide that you need to up the stakes, and you lean over to rest your hand on his knee, fingers inching upwards ever so slowly. His muscles turn solid under your touch, and there is a sharp intake of breath. Jimin’s eyes are fixated on your fingers making the slow crawl up his inner thigh, towards the obvious tent in his pants, before you stop just short of making contact with it. “And, what else,” you prompt him again. Jimin’s fists are clenched, his knuckles white as he considers his options. He’s so rock hard in his pants right now, unbelievably turned on that he thinks he could come in his pants untouched. But just how far are you willing to take this? He’s sure that the both of you are breaking just about every rule in the pilot handbook right now, and yet, he’s dying just to feel your hand wrapped around him… “Y-your legs are…” Jimin meets your eye with a visible shudder as you begin to run your nails up and down his inner thighs. “Better than Yoonji’s could ever be.” A satisfied smirk paints itself upon your lips as you finally place your hand on him fully, giving him a firm squeeze to reward him. He feels thick in your palm, and your mouth salivates, wishing that the two of you were off this damn plane just so you can get a taste of him. Jimin groans and tilts his head back against the headrest, knees spreading even wider. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath before swallowing hard. “First Officer, would you like to grab my joystick for me?” It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he’s been waiting to use this line for the longest time. His terrible innuendo makes you want to laugh, and you just manage to bite it back as you flick open the button on his pants and drag the zipper down. He is already dripping with precum when you pull him out and give him a few test strokes. “Yes, fuck,” Jimin groans at your touch as you swipe your thumb over his head. “Make sure to grip it tightly, Officer. Your hand needs to go up and down too.” If someone had told you this morning that you’d be giving Park Jimin a handjob over 30,000 feet in the air, you’d have laughed it off. But as you follow his instructions, you can’t help but feel a thrill sing through your veins at the thought of all the other passengers on the other side of this door. And Min Yoonji who potentially thinks she can just bat her lashes and get any guy she wants. “What do you think of my joystick, Officer?” he huffs out, putty in your hands. “Should turn the radio on. Let Seokjin fucking hear this.” “But I don’t want anyone else to hear you. This is for my ears only...” you can’t help the little pout that sneaks up your face and he mutters a curse, unable to resist lifting his hand to curl around your wrist and control your pacing. You blink innocently at him as your strokes continue to alternate between slow and fast. “Your joystick is the thickest I’ve ever seen… Am I doing a good job, Captain?” “S-so good, you’re passing the simulation with full marks if you keep this up,” Jimin bucks his hips into your hand. When your other hand drops to fondle his balls, he groans low in his throat and twitches in your grasp. “Fuck, I-I’m carrying such a full load today, Officer, did you know that?” You glance up from weighing his balls in your palm, stroking him faster and relishing the loud, obscene sound that echoes around the tiny cockpit. “It does seem to be very heavy indeed, Captain… maybe you need some help unloading it? Where should I put all the cargo?” “God, fuck, you’re such a fucking minx,” Jimin bites his lower lip as he groans. His little sounds and the cute, tiny moans that spill from his pretty lips only encourage your ministrations. Your underwear becomes soaked and uncomfortable, and as you watch his face scrunch, it sends an ache straight to your own core. “I can’t wait till we’re off this plane so I can blow my fucking load on your landing strip, Officer.” “My landing strip?” You raise an eyebrow at him, not knowing that he’d be into finishing all over your body. The thought of the both of you watching his cum drip from you has your panties soaked. Maybe you can’t give him that now, while you’re on this godforsaken plane, but perhaps you can give him something else. You push yourself off your seat to kneel in between his legs, opening your mouth and showing him your tongue. “It’s all clear for you, Captain.” There is sweat beading on his forehead as Jimin reaches down to wrap his hand around yours, helping you to jerk him off right onto your tongue. The first few spurts are far too strong and miss your mouth entirely, landing on your cheek before you feel the bitterness on your tongue as Jimin shifts his hips forward so that his tip is resting on your tongue directly. You wiggle your tongue to massage the head of his cock as he continues spurting cum, and you can feel him filling your mouth up to the brim, that you have to tilt your head back to make sure it doesn’t spill. Jimin sinks back in his seat, eyes closed as he tries to catch his breath. You can already feel the streaks of cum drying on your face, so you push yourself up, closing your mouth carefully. Jimin opens his eyes then, catching sight of you settling back in your chair. “You look so pretty with my cum on your face,” he remarks, reaching over to carefully wipe a smear that’s close to your eye with the pad of his finger, then bringing it to his lips, tongue peeking out to lick it away. “Do you need to spit? Here, have my cup.” He offers you his coffee cup from earlier, but you shake your head, making eye contact with him as you swallow deliberately and open your mouth to show him your clean tongue. Jimin swears under his breath, thumb coming to rest just under your lower lip. “That’s so hot. You’re fucking amazing. When we get off this plane, we’re going straight to the airport hotel.” The sight of your swollen lips and cum streaked face makes Jimin want to bend you over the controls and eat you out till you come all over his face, then fuck his cum into you till you’re leaking. But he’s already broken enough rules for today; put others’ lives at risk even. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that—” you start, tucking your hair behind your ear. “No, it takes two hands to clap,” Jimin sighs as he tucks himself back into his pants. “I should have had better self control. It was irresponsible of me, the Captain of this plane. It’ll never happen again. Because once we’re on solid land, I’m fucking you so hard that you won’t be able to walk till our next flight back.” A signal comes in from the plane’s radio, and you glance over to the autopilot timer, saved from having to reply. It’s only been ten minutes since Jimin switched it on, but now that you’re more level-headed and thinking clearly, it was highly irresponsible for the two of you to leave the plane like that, even if autopilot allows you to be hands-off. Thankfully, nothing happened, and you can see that Jimin is equally sobered as he checks in with control tower and resumes control of the plane. “Go clean yourself up, I got it from here,” Jimin glances toward the cockpit entrance. You rise from your seat, hoping that you can somehow make it to the staff lavatory without running into anyone. But just as you press the exit button and step out of the cockpit, as your luck would have it, you almost crash straight into Yoonji carrying a tray with two prepackaged meals on it. “Oh! Officer ______! Didn’t see you there, are you alright? I was just bringing you and Captain Park your in-flight meal...” Yoonji is concerned as she glances at your face. “You look a bit…” Belatedly you realise that you have cum on your face, and the tight sensation around the corner of your lips tells you that there’s probably some there too. By the look on Yoonji’s face, she’s obviously caught on to what that mystery white substance is as she flushes a deep red, and you take the opportunity to rub it in her face….not literally though since Jimin’s cum belongs to you and only you. “Oh, I’m fine, don’t worry,” you give her a sweet smile as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Captain Park was just teaching me how to handle his joystick. He was giving me a bit of one-to-one coaching on the techniques, grip, pace, complicated stuff like that. I’d tell you more, but I don’t think you’d understand.” Her mouth drops open. “Oh, and…” you glance at the in-flight meals on her tray. One lobster bisque with salted egg yolk sauce, and the other is a plain old chicken with green beans and potatoes. That nasty little witch’s favouritism has always been too obvious. “Actually, Jimin is allergic to green beans… could you change his to lobster too? Thanks, Yoonji!” “B-but the lobster was for h—” Without waiting to hear the rest of her sentence, you saunter over to the staff lavatory, feeling her glare on your back the whole way. It feels good, more than good. As childish as it is, you got to assert your dominance like some kind of alpha wolf, and the adrenaline from your dirty antics is still coursing through your veins. You didn’t get your own release and your underwear is still sticky, but in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t bother you too much. If anything, you’re a bit disappointed that you have to wash his cum from your skin, even if it was drying and becoming uncomfortable. You wish he marked you in a better way. Maybe you’ll suggest it to him later. But what’s more important to you is that he feels the same way. Park Jimin, idiot extraordinaire, adorable puppy with sharp teeth, actually likes you back. No….wait, a minute...he doesn’t just like you— “I’m in love with you too.” It echos over and over in your brain again. You’ve imprinted the simple sentence, memorized the way he spoke every syllable, how his breath paused in timidness, how he gazed at you. You grin at yourself in the mirror, turning your head from side to side to admire the glow on your cheeks. Honestly, with you looking this good, you don’t know how Jimin managed to hold out this long. You’ve never seen yourself looking so radiant and glowy, although it may just be the effect of his cum… you’ll have to look into that one later. You might look crazy, but you don’t care that you skip back into the cockpit with one cheesy smile plastered on your aching cheeks. You don’t care that you’re giggling like some teenage girl who just received her first confession from her long, unrequited crush. You’re going to savour all the butterflies that are erupting in your stomach and embrace the flowers that are blooming inside your chest, bouquets that all belong to one man, Park Jimin. The cockpit smells of sex and Jimin, and you don’t mind in the least bit. He’s chewing on a cubed cantaloupe, having yet to dig into his lobster. Your bright smile is infectious and he can’t help but mirror it, chubby cheeks swelling up as he chews. “Oh, I think you’ll want to hear this. Yoonji was just here bringing us our food and she said this place smelled…musty. I told her I was just giving you a private flight lesson.” “Really?” you chime out before coming behind him, not really caring about what Yoonji thinks. “Why do you look so happy?” You lean over to plant a soft kiss on his cheek and hop back to your seat before Jimin has a chance to blink or react. He turns to you and his grin expands. “Maybe it’s because you told me you love me.” “I do,” he reasserts without a second thought, having too much fun watching you. Jimin has an endeared expression written across his features and it only squeezes your heart more. You wish you could just roll in bed and kick your blankets, too giddy for your own good. Yet, you hold yourself together, doing your best to remain professional and bring this plane to its final destination. “Before we were interrupted…..you said you’ve been for a long time now?” Who knew that you equally loved basking in his attention as he did in yours. You don’t really care about Yoonji anymore. She was just an excuse, really. Little things like that don’t seem to matter when it’s just you and him. “Of course,” Jimin scoffs. “Are you kidding me? How could I not notice the cutest and funniest girl in my class who turned out to be super smart and second best to me?” Your smile drops and your brow raises. “Excuse me….second best?” The little shit ignores you. “I’m just happy that you finally realized how much you’re crazy for me.” “Psh, how cocky can you be?” You turn back towards the front windshield, returning back to help with the navigation. “I’m not crazy for you.” “You’re right.” He grins. “You’re just crazy.” If looks could kill, the man would’ve turned to ash by the way you glare at him with a murderous glint in your eyes. He immediately retracts his words with a laugh, “I’m joking! I’m joking! I mean you’re crazy for loving me too because you’re so fucking amazing and incredible.” “Save it, Park.” Except, he’s a brat that never listened to you, and he steals the chance. Jimin completely catches you off guard when he suddenly leans over and kisses the corner of your lips, pulling away after the simple peck. When you turn in surprise, his gaze softens. “Now go eat your lobster. I need you to be hungry when we get off this damn flight because I decided that I’m asking you out to dinner before I tie you up for the next three days in the best damn hotel suite the airport has to offer.” It’s too hard not to smile and you feel like an idiot when your grin makes yet another reappearance. “Don’t you know I don’t put out on the first date?” “Who said it’s our first date?” A glimmer of mischief sparkles in his irises when you both glance at each other. “This is our fiftieth.” “What? Since when?” “Since our after our first flight exam and I invited you to McDonalds at midnight. That was our first date.” You’re appalled, recalling the memory with the snap of your finger. You’d never allow a first date to be so shitty, even if it was with him. “That so does not count!” “It did in my mind,” he giggles. “You’re ridiculous.” “—ridiculously in love with you,” Jimin adds on and you can’t resist your smile. The pair of you might be over 30,000 feet in the air, but at this rate, it feels like you could float up to the moon and stars. You can’t wait for tomorrow, for the next day, for the day after that. The anticipation bubbles in your stomach, joining with the storm of butterflies and blooming flowers. You can’t wait to travel with him again and again. For the rest of your life, you get to go across the entire world with your best friend. If it’s with him, you can go anywhere….even if Jimin rages on all the birds in the sky.

#bts scenario #Jimin fluff #jimin fanfic #jimin smut #bts smut #lol i can finally tag one of my fics as smut y'all #mAN i can talk ALLL day about how great pilot uniforms are #that shit is really something

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fbfh · 2 years

Text

light up the dark [VII] - leo x reader

genre: reality tv kind of drama, smut, heartwarming fluff

word count: 3.4k

pairing: Leo x gothy!child of eros!fem reader

requested: hell fuckin yeah!!!!

warnings: reader and calypso fuckin hate each other, toxic calypso, leo has a little ptsd/anxiety from y'all arguing and you shut that shit down quick, kitchen sex, reader claims to be using leo for his body and he's cool with that but you both know you're lying, reader can pull condoms out of thin air, fingering, dirty talk, squirting, heavily implied smut at the end

summary: You finally meet Calypso, and you have to say, you're not a fan. You're especially not fond of the way she treats and talks to Leo. He helps you break the tension from your encounter with her by fucking you in the kitchen when you're supposed to be cooking. It's all fun and games until you're cold and can't sleep and really just want to be in his arms again.

listen to: bubblegum bitch - marina, take me to church - hozier, bad idea - waitress obc, the last 3 minutes of you won't do - regrettes, weak - ajr

a/n: kinda in the mood to fuck around and draw fanart of my favorite scenes for this fic and make an art gallery for it in the masterpost I'm gonna make soon so uh if you want to make some fanart of your fave scenes tag me so I can link it!!!! might fuck around and draw official art for my fics lol fr lmk if you'd want to see that cause I gotta do something with the surplus of feelings I have

as with all smexy smutty nsfw content, all characters are aged up to 18+

tag list: @avashaye @perseajohnson @afidiofobia @thatmultifandomloser @yelenabel0vaswife @shellosisbae@anything-forourmoony @butt-nugget-of-mine @chasingpj @1dpjohoohp

So. This is the famous Calypso.

You size each other up, assessing everything from microexpressions to posture. You determine quickly that you’re not a fan. She squints, shifting her weight, clearly trying to intimidate you. You don’t move, holding your ground. Her eyes hover on your smudged lipstick a little too long.

“Leo…” she says, turning her head but not taking her eyes off you, like she’s worried you’ll try something if she looks away, “who’s this?”

It’s a question, but her tone makes it a statement. A challenge. Her tone of voice reminds you of the way you might talk to a dog, warning them not to do something. She’s asking a straightforward question, but using it to get a specific reaction, specific information out of him. You don’t like it. At all.

Still leaning against the counter, Leo standing next to you, you place a hand on his shoulder and trace your fingertips over the collar of his shirt. Effortless and casual, but still an intentional gesture. You’re sending a message - one you know she won’t miss.

“Satan’s sugar baby,” you reply, fingers dipping below his collar for a split second, “I’m on vacation.” Your smile is too perfect, your expression too cordial. You’re fueling the fire while giving her nothing to point at.

She lets out an indignant scoff. Leo laughs, but it dies quickly as Calypso stiffly refuses to acknowledge the obvious joke.

"Uh, Calypso," he begins, introducing you, "she was just joking. Her sense of humor is-"

"Unique." Calypso says with a flare of her eyes.

"Hilarious." They say it at the same time, and he can feel his stomach twisting up in knots. He hasn't taken your hand off his shoulder, idly playing with the collar of his shirt.

You look up at his face, and your brow furrows almost imperceptibly. He seems like an entirely different person than he did two minutes ago. His shoulders and back are tense, barely relaxing when your fingertips brush lightly against them. You can't quite put it into words, but you recognize the repression of his personality, the way his eyes scan both Calypso and your faces, the fear hiding far behind his eyes slowly worming its way to the surface. He's panicking. He's bracing for impact. You want it to stop. Right fucking now.

"Leo,” she says, contemptuously, “can we talk for a minute?” It’s clear that it’s not a question. Leo looks at you for a split second, his panic at the sudden tension obvious.

“No, he can’t.” you state before she can get an answer out of him, “We’re about to start making dinner.”

“Really.” she says, disbelieving.

“Yeah.” you reply, taking a few steps forward, “Remember thirty seconds ago when you barged in unannounced, and we were all close, cozied up together?”

The passive aggression building up around her is almost palpable.

“We were planning what to make for dinner.”

She finally tears her gaze away from you, relinquishing her part in the power struggle long enough to turn to Leo.

“Then we’ll talk before you start.”

She spits the words out, her frustration getting harder to mask.

“No can do,” you state breezily, picking up the apron matching Leo’s, “I really need his help.”

She narrows her gaze at you, wanting more than anything to call your bullshit justification for keeping Leo away from her.

“What are you making?” she asks treacherously.

“It’s a surprise.” You say, a strategic casualty to your voice. You turn your back to her, holding out the strings for Leo to tie. He does, thankful to have something to do with his hands.

“If you’re so bad at cooking, maybe you shouldn’t be in the kitchen.” she spits. She’s more worked up than she’d like you to think. You feel Leo freeze behind you, waiting to see what you do. You know it’s petty, but you can’t help yourself.

“If you’re so bad at not ditching your friends, maybe you shouldn’t be traveling with them.”

You turn back to the counter, organizing ingredients and pulling out a mixing bowl. Even though you don’t see the indignant look on her face, you suppress a smile, knowing it’s there.

Before she can reply, Jason enters the kitchen with an uncomfortable looking Nico.

“Hey guys, Nico’s here!” he says cheerily, unaware of the situation he’s just walked into.

“Hi Tino, nice to see you - everyone out, we’re making dinner. Don’t interrupt us.”

You usher everyone out of the kitchen quickly, closing the door behind you.

Suddenly, it’s quiet again. It’s just you two in a nice little bubble.

“Well, that was… a shitty yet accurate first impression.” You say, acting busy with the ingredients you have out again.

Leo watches you in a state of bewilderment.

“...seriously don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that.”

He has no idea how you managed to turn that situation around so fast. He approaches, turning you around to face him.

Your words evaporate as you study each other’s expressions. For another moment, it’s silent.

“...Kiss me again.”

You don’t answer right away, and he continues, face even closer. The floral smell of hair dye lingers with his cologne, a combination you never expected to be so nice.

“Kiss me again, like you did before,” he says, a ghost of a smile on his lips. You wait for a beat, wait in vain for him to come to his senses, but the desire in his eyes only grows.

You bring your hands to his cheeks, pulling him close, and before you can come to your own senses, before it clicks that this is a terrible, very bad idea, you close the distance between you.

His lips are warm and soft, moving in vigorous sync with yours. You slip your tongue past his lips and he grabs at your waist. Breathing heavy, your hand trails down his chest, then to his back, tugging at the strings of his apron and they flutter down, coming untied. He pulls you closer, leaning against the island. Open mouthed kisses getting more feverish, he starts to tug at the waistband of your pants. You know exactly where this is going. You know what a bad, awful, objectively terrible idea this is, but right here, right now, the desire to pop open the first few buttons of his shirt is insurmountably stronger than logic. His hand trails down your thigh, mouth now trailing down your neck. Your chest feels warm, and not just because of the hickeys he’s starting to leave on your decolletage. You know you’re at the point of no return.

“Hey,” you breathe, placing your hand on his jaw, guiding him to look up at you. His face is flushed, eyes electric and heavy with lust. His breathing is heavy and you’re sure yours is the same. Fighting to hold on to any shred of the prickly at best air that usually comes effortlessly to you, you realize you’re not at the point of no return - you’re past it.

Desperately clinging to your carefully constructed persona, you continue.

“We can do this, but I want you to know I’m exclusively using you for your body.”

A small part of you hopes this will snap him out of it. You don’t want either of you to end up on the other’s string of broken hearts. For once, you don’t want to ruin a friendship then run away.

He studies your expression for a moment, then bites back a smile.

“...I’m okay with that.”

He sweeps the contents of the island counter to the side, lifting you up onto the edge. You shimmy your pants down and he does the same. He kisses you again, tongue thrashing in your mouth, and his hands trail down, grabbing at your hips.

Legs wrapped around his waist, his fingers trail down to your heat. He traces enticingly around your hole, thumb rubbing gently on your clit, before slipping in a finger, then another. You bite his neck, fighting back a moan.

He pumps his fingers into you, slow and steady, until you’ve stretched enough to comfortably accommodate them. The feeling of you, wet and tight around him, and so responsive to his every move is making him throb, hard in his boxers.

You open the nearest drawer, fumbling around until you find what you’re looking for.

One very convenient skill you got from your dad is the ability to find condoms and the like whenever they’re needed. The host of this airbnb almost definitely didn’t leave a bunch of condoms tucked here and there, but you know you’ll be able to find them right when it’s convenient.

You pull his hips closer, palming him a few times before pulling him out. He lets out a faltering breath as you slide on the condom.

‘Not quite a moan, but we’re getting there,’ you think for the second time today.

He lines himself up with your entrance, slowly thrusting in, gradually getting deeper as you kiss his neck and shoulder. You bite gently and his grip tightens. You smile slightly, sucking a hickey on the spot. His breath fans over your shoulder as you settle into a good rhythm. You grab the back of his shirt, barely still on, your other hand coming up to tug at his hair.

He lets out a quiet moan, and you bite back a smile. It sounds nicer than you imagined. You want to hear more of them.

You kiss up his neck and bite his ear.

“Moan like that again,” you breathe, and his grip tightens again. He buries his face in your neck in an attempt to muffle the noises he’s making, and you bite back a moan yourself, “yeah, like that,” you coo.

“You feel so good inside me,” you mutter as he bucks his hips into yours. You continue murmuring dirty praise, everything he does bringing you closer. He pulls your hips toward his, one arm holding you tight, the other planted behind you on the counter as he leans forward, still moaning into your neck. Your grip on his hair tightens, and you let out a moan that even catches you by surprise as the angle changes. You forget what you had been about to say as you can feel the head of his cock rubbing against your g-spot with every thrust.

Until now you’d been holding yourself back, trying to see if you could get him to cum first - which, historically, hasn't been hard at all for you. But now, you can feel yourself coming undone faster than you’d anticipated. You let out a breathy whine, clamping down around him as you climax. Your thoughts are blurry with oxytocin and all you can do is cling to him, panting. A moment later, he lets out a guttural moan and you feel him cum inside you. The head of his cock nudges against your g-spot in concentrated motions. You feel a build up, then release as you squirt around him.

You stay there for a minute, catching your breath and clinging to each other. After a minute, he pulls out, pressing soft kisses to your neck, then your cheek, then, thumb brushing your lip gently, your mouth.

He gazes at you, expression less clouded, but still just as lustful. You tear your gaze away, unable to process the intense and complicated emotions. You open your mouth to say something, but before you can, your eyes land on the clock.

“Oh, shit,” you say, accepting the wet wipes he hands you to clean up, and hopping off the counter to shimmy your pants back up. You pull out your phone and dial a number.

“Yeah, hi, I’d like to order a couple pizzas…”

Leo watches you do this, hastily fixing his clothes. Right… oh fuck, you were supposed to be making dinner this whole time. You give the guy your address, thank him, and hang up.

“Fifteen minutes tops.” you state.

“Good catch,” he says, starting to put away the various unused cutting boards, bowls, and ingredients.

You let out a tsk, then start unbuttoning his shirt. He laughs, heat rising to his cheeks.

“Again, already?” he asks, and you roll your eyes.

“...Your shirt was misbuttoned.”

“Good catch.”

“Yeah, I seem to be pretty good at those.”

Satisfied with your work, you pat his chest. Placing the spice bottles back in the cabinet, you notice he still has lipstick all over his cheek and neck. You grab another wipe and place your hand on his cheek to keep him still. You dab at the smudge, and he flinches almost imperceptibly at the chill from the moisture.

By the time you’re done cleaning up the kitchen - and each other - the pizza and sides have arrived. You thank the delivery guy, an awkward looking college kid, and he scratches the back of his neck, blushing. You close the door before he can ask for your number.

Leo lets everyone know that dinner’s ready, and soon you’re gathered in the living room with all his friends. They’re introduced quickly. You go back to the kitchen for a side you forgot, and hear yet another set of footsteps coming down the stairs.

“This is what you spent so long in the kitchen for?”

There she is.

You exit, carrying in a tray of breadsticks.

“Surprise.” you state. You can feel her stare on the back of your neck. You ignore her, keeping your gaze forward as the temperature drops in the room, Leo’s friends sensing the tension. She huffs after a minute, and stomps back up the stairs, her door slamming behind her.

It’s silent for a moment.

“Who’s hungry?” you ask rhetorically, opening up pizza boxes as people start to dig in.

Later that night after dinner, you can’t sleep. You’re lying in bed, clothes strewn across the floor, freezing cold. You wonder if Leo’s room is already messy too. You can picture him opening the door, taking one look around, and making some clever joke. You stare at the door.

It stays closed.

You huff, rolling over. Jesus christ, you can’t get comfortable. And you can’t get warm. Maybe it would be warmer if… You let out a sigh. Your fingertips skim down your waist to your hips and thighs, imagining someone else’s touch.

‘He’s probably really clingy,’ you think, staring up at your ceiling, moonlight filtering through the gauzy curtains, the spotless night sky casting everything in a blue glow. If he were in here right now he’d probably insist on cuddling with you. The idea makes you laugh. Your stomach drops as you realize you’ve been thinking about Leo a lot tonight.

“I bet that would drive old Cally crazy,” you mutter. Of course you’ve been thinking about Leo a lot, because you’re not really thinking about how much you like him, you’re thinking about how much you hate Calypso. Which is a lot. You’re so sick of her and you’ve interacted for a grand total of five minutes. You interrupt your stream of consciousness, trying to redirect your thoughts anywhere else. Fuck, why are the pillows so soft? You shift again, jamming the fluff under your neck at a different angle, to no avail. You grit your teeth, eyes wandering across the blank ceiling. You notice a slightly darker color peeking out in tiny spots here and there from the bright white molding along the walls. Your eyes drift back down to the door. You lay there, uncomfortable, sick of sleeping, waiting for something to happen. Nothing does. You let out an audible groan, rolling over again.

Just down the hall, Leo’s also laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. An immovable faint smile rests on his lips, events from earlier today playing over and over in his mind like a movie he’s seen a thousand times, but can’t get sick of. He thinks back to when you first met, how intimidating you’d been, how terrifying you’d made yourself seem. He doesn’t know why everyone else is still scared of you; after a short amount of time together, it was so easy to see past that persona you put up. His fingers trace over his lips, mind once again wandering back to your touch. He lets out a soft chuckle, face warm, looking away towards the window.

He’s getting much better at understanding you, he realizes, that’s why you don’t seem so scary. He thinks you’re starting to understand him, too. This must be true, he thinks, because of how quickly you turned around that situation with Calypso in the kitchen. He doesn’t think a lot of people could have picked up on how he was feeling so quickly - unless they were paying really close attention to him or something. He bites back another smile.

His gaze floats around the room again, this time landing on the doorway. He knows right then and there that if you came into his room in the middle of the night to fool around there’s no way he’d turn you down. You could probably proposition him anywhere - including in front of two for one cookie crisp - and he’d be so, so down. You’re just so… cute. He realizes he can’t think of anyone as cute as you are. It’s so fun, and surprisingly easy to fluster you. He thinks back to the look on your face, the way you clung to him trying to catch your breath after your time in the kitchen.

He wonders if he could fluster you like that again.

He’s about to roll over and try to sleep when his door quietly creeks open, revealing you, pajama clad and wrapped in a cardigan. Once you see that he’s up, you look away quickly, avoiding his eyes. You let out a sigh, clearly seeming annoyed, but it’s obvious to him how glad you are that he’s still awake.

“Hi,” he says quietly, voice sounding strange in the resounding silence.

“...Hi.” you reply curtly.

A beat passes.

“You come here often?” he asks, that ever present layer of humor in his voice.

You let out a scoff. After a moment you reply.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Okay,” he says softly, encouraging you to continue.

“It was too cold.” You don’t know why you always end up talking so much around him, but it’s hard to stop yourself.

“Okay,” he says again, curious to see where you’re going with this.

“I couldn’t get comfortable, and I’m not even that tired,” you add in a huff. He fights back a blossoming smile.

“Okay,” he says again.

“And, I’m sick of sleeping, and- will you stop saying okay and move over?” You say, more of a statement, and toss your cardigan on the foot of the bed.

He lets out a soft chuckle and moves over, lifting up the blankets for you to crawl under. You press your face into his chest, arms around his torso, already feeling yourself start to thaw out.

“You know,” he says quietly, feigning surprise, “I didn’t take you for the cuddling type.” You don’t need to look at him to know the exact smirk on his face as he speaks.

“I told you,” you say, really glad he can’t see your face right now, “I’m cold.” It’s bullshit, you both know it, but you have to say something. He pulls you closer, gently rubbing the small of your back.

“Right,” he agrees, politely ignoring the obvious, real reason you’re here. He traces his hand up your side, to your waist, and down your hips and thigh.

“Do you…want some help warming up?”

Before he can finish, you’re already pressing kisses to the side of his neck.

“Yes,” you murmur. He grabs your waist and flips you over enthusiastically pinning you to the bed, making you giggle. It rings through the room like ripples in a pond as still as glass. He adds that to his mental list of times he’s made you laugh.

You trace your finger over his lips, gazing at him with that look he’s only seen on you a few times. After a moment that feels both too short and like eternity, you close the distance.

His lips are warm, and his hands are warm, everything about him is just so warm. He angles his head, deepening the kiss, using the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips. Between the way you tug up his shirt and the sudden heat from your face, he thinks he can fluster you again.

He wonders how many times he can do it in one night.

#leo valdez x reader #leo valdez smut #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus x reader smut #hoo #hoo x reader #lv light up the dark

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blksuwie1 · 3 years

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RivaMika FanFic Rec List Part 1

Hi friends!

I decided to make this rec list because I've been consuming so much RM fic lately that I've been having a hard time keep tracking of which ones I'm recommending. So, I decided to make this for my selfish reasons lol but I figured this would be good to share since it seems we have some more incoming RM fans our way.

We're currently at 916 RM fics as of today. When I first started reading about this wonderful duo, there were only about 600 or so and it just exploded over the past years. It's so awesome to see our little ship gain some headway.

As always, feel free to add in your own recs! This is merely a beginning list. The links to the fics are attached to the title. I'll include some ratings and brief summary. See the tags below for quick info:

Tags

+ = Completed work

- = WIP

* = nsfw

The Song Remains The Same by MoraLeeWright. Rated M, * and +. What can I say about this masterpiece that hasn't been said already? This is probably the best intro to rivamika that you can ask for. Really good rival to lovers done in a realistic manner. So damn good, you'll consume it in less than three days. Recommended to anyone who is a bit iffy about this pairing and needs some convincing. The smut is beautifully done too. Fantastic slow burn.

Just Until The Storm Has Gone by MoraLeeWright. Rated E, * and +. When I tell you I screamed at some of these scenes! A much more angsty composition to the post canon au fics out there, but done so well. You almost forget how much angst the characters feel when the sweetness of their actions outweigh them. Author is incredible and has more works, but these two are just *chefs kiss*.

Surviving Peace by die-forellex (heatinfreezing). Rated E, * and +. This fic was my first RM fic, and I'll never forget it. It's hot, sweet, and oddly comforting. There's a particular, ahem, mouth on private part scene that always me fan myself in chapter 2. The satisfaction you feel when these two are finally finally happy, it's so wholesome. Just mind the tags--ackerbaby and pregnancy is big in this one.

To you, five years from now by a_sassin. Rated E, * and +. A different take on a post war au that has Eren and Armin alive, trying to navigate their last years as Mikasa returns to them. Oh, and she's pining for a certain captain *grins gleefully*. This is angsty but not as heavy as you'd expect. Very spicy but sweet. Definitely give this a try.

The Sound of Lightning by LycheeGreenTea. Rated M, * and -. Ackerbabies? Ackerbaby. This cute but action packed WIP is such a worthy check out. There's something about Daddy!Levi and Mommy!Mikasa that eats at my rm heart. Another take on a post war au that leaves you wanting more. A spicy scene and some domestic fluff is all you need to want more from this author.

After The War by loneackerman (aka the wonderful @rivaille-13) Rated M, * and -. THIS STORY. Anyone who is reading this can attest to just how amazing the plot and development of these characters are. There's a delicious slow burn element to it, and it's recently been resolved...let me tell you, worth the wait. Author is almost done with the fic I believe, but please check this story out. It's one of the best post war canon healing au's out there.

Same Old Thing by Raewyll. Rated M, * and -. Did someone say underground adventure? This was one of the best stories I had the pleasure of following along for a while now. I think the author has one more chapter left over. This is great for those who want something kind of spicy but not too spicy. The tension, plot, and action are all still there though.

I am from a burning village by @valya-azucena. Rated M and -, possible *. There's so much I want to say about this fic but can't coherently describe how amazing it is. The tension and build up of these characters is so SO good, and I screamed at the last update. 10/10.

Inexorable by @alienheartattack. Rated T and +. Hello modern au! I devoured this fic during work shamelessly. It's short and sweet, and there's just something so hot about the secretary/boss trope that eats me up.

Paths in Constellations by LamentableBrat. Rated E, * and -. HOLY SMOKES. This fic has torn me apart, y'all. When I tell you I cried AND am hotly bothered, no one else can do this but this author. It's an incredible fic and am so excited to see where it goes.

Soldiers Don't Get Happy Endings by heretosayhello. Rated T and -. I had to do a double take when I saw this was rated T because holy heck, this author just writes the tension between them like no other. There's a lot of Ackertalk and new plot lines I'm incredibly jealous of that I didn't think of first. SO GOOD.

Deep Sea Running by @linaxlight (shameless self plug). Rated E, *, and +. Post canon AU of what happens when the old Levi squad comes back to Paradis Island. Everyone else seems to have moved on three years after the ending of the war, and they make their peace saying goodbye to Eren. But Mikasa chose to stay behind back then, and she'll need to face Levi eventually. Sequel has Ackerbabies because I love them.

That's all for now folks! I'll do a part 2 next time.

#rivamika fanfic #rivamika #levimika #fanfic #fanfic list #rec list

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tom-whore-dleston · 2 years

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500 Followers Writing Challenge

Wow, y'all! Thank you all again for another milestone! As wild as this site is, I am grateful to everyone that has supported and got to know me over the past few months ❤️

To celebrate, I will be hosting a writing challenge to showcase more amazing writers and share our love for it. I am sure many of you are familiar with the bingo writing challenge. However, I'll be adding my own twist on it.

In each square, I put some of my favorite fanfic AUs and tropes. For the challenge, you will have to sign up for which square you would like to write for. To sign up, you will have to send me an ASK for which square you would like to claim, along with the genre(s) & character(s)/real person(s) you would like to write for

Ex. #1: CEO + fluff & smut + Shang-Chi/Shangqi

Ex. #2: love triangle + angst + Druig & Loki

You can only sign up for one square and only two writers can occupy that square. Under the cut will include a constantly updated list of the squares that are taken. If you sign up for a square that is already taken by two writers, I will reach out to you via DMs and we will discuss other options for you. You can still incorporate the other AUs and tropes in your fic, however, the AU or trope you signed up for must be written into your fic. Sign ups for squares will end December 31st unless spots fill up quickly!

The Free Space square is reserved for me, but here is the catch. Y'all get to help me build a fic by voting for which character/person, AU, trope, and genre I will be writing for! The link to vote will be here and you will have until December 17th @ 11:59pm Cali time to vote for what kind of fic I should write. That's my last day of finals so after that I should be able to write it lol

This challenge is restricted to writers 18 years or older! You must have an age in your bio along with at least one post on your blog. Any blogs that do not have these will be turned away from participating. And all minors will be blocked!

I will accept all genres (fluff, angst, smut, crack, dark) of fanfic, but please tag accordingly if you write smut or dark pieces! I will NOT allow any pieces that include non-con, incest, step-cest, underage readers or characters, bathroom kinks, blood kink, or foot fetish. For this challenge, I want pairings to be male!character(s)/person(s) x fem!reader insert.

You can write either one-shots, series/multi-part fics (tag me in every part), or drabbles, but if your piece is longer than 500 words, please use a read more tag! If you need help with it, don't hesitate to ask. Deadline to submit your piece is February 28, 2022 at 11:59pm.

Please tag me [@tom-whore-dleston] in your piece and use the hashtags #jordans500followersbingochallenge and/or #jordansauandtropebingochallenge. I will also provide a link for you to submit your pieces in case I miss your tag.

CHECK OUT THE MASTERLIST OF ALL THE WORKS HERE

If you need an extension or will no longer be participating in the challenge, please let me know! I know life can get crazy and writing is so damn hard so I totally understand and will accommodate to your needs.

Below the cut, I have provided the bingo card, sign up list, and a list of characters/people to write for! If you have any questions, feel free to send me an ask or DM me and I will get back to you as soon as I can! Be as creative as you possibly can be and don't forget to have fun with it 😊😊😊

Sign Ups:

PWP:

Professor x Student: @little-diable

Love Triangle:

Coffee/Boba Barista:

Unresolved Sexual Tension:

Dad's Best Friend: @magicxc

Enemies to Lovers:

CEO:

Friends to Lovers:

Roommates:

Bed Sharing: @justseewherethisgoes @littlelioncub43

Therapist x Patient:

Fake Relationship/Marriage: @give-me-a-moose

Fairytale: @wint3r-h3art @ladyfallonavenger

Forbidden Love: @inklore

Monster:

Jealous/Possessive/Protective:

Time Period:

Idiots in Love: @kneel-bitches

Artist: @buckybleu

Drunk Confessions: @jbreenr @cloverrover

Adult Entertainer:

Trapped/Isolated: @blackbat05

Mafia/Mobster: @sparkledfirecracker

Who You Can Write For:

MCU characters: Loki, Shang-Chi/Shangqi, Peter Parker (aged up), Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Xu Wenwu, Erik Killmonger, Scott Lang, Thor, Druig, Eros/Starfox, Sam Wilson, Pietro Maximoff (Age of Ultron)

Non-MCU characters: Kim Jung (Kim's Convenience), any Sim Liu’s SNL characters (I’m dead serious lmfao), Adam (Only Lovers Left Alive), Johnathan Pine (The Night Manager), Robert Laing (High Rise), James Conrad (Kong: Skull Island), Arvin Russel (The Devil All The Time), Ransom Drysdale (Knives Out), Andy Barber (Defending Jacob), Lee Bodecker (The Devil All The Time), Jefferson/Mad Hatter (Once Upon a Time)

RPF: Simu Liu, Tom Hiddleston, Tom Holland, Harry Styles, Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, Barry Keoghan

Tagging some friends:

@wint3r-h3art @crazycookiecrumbles @cloverrover @blackbat05 @navybrat817-shares @littlelioncub43 @give-me-a-moose @tuiccim @magicxc @jbreenr @ladyfallonavenger @sparkledfirecracker @dreamlessinparis

#jordans500followersbingochallenge #jordansauandtropebingochallenge #fanfic writer #for writers #500 followers

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negotiumcrucis · 3 years

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ao3 Tag Game

I was tagged by @snipergirl21 and @instantpeach ~ thank you both! <3 <3 <3

----

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

I currently have 38 works on my ao3 ~ but I do have 79 stories in my old FFNET account (mostly Harry Potter fics, tho) and about 15 stories in my LiveJournal, but some of them are posted on more than one place, so there's some overlap here. I'd say I have about 100 fics published at the moment.

2. What is your total ao3 word count?

Over 250k only on ao3 and half of that was written in this year alone, so I can say more than half of that number is just TOG fics, lol.

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Oh, sweet baby Jesus. Only on ao3, I have stories for The Old Guard (movie and comics), La Casa de Papel, Teen Wolf, Inception, Supernatural, Death Note, X-Men (comics), Inglourious Basterds, The Walking Dead and Star Trek (TOS). But I also have written tons of Harry Potter (in Portuguese), some Final Fantasy 7, Star Trek (2009), Watchmen, Edgar Allan Poe (it's about detective Dupin, mind you), Glee, Heroes, Saint Seiya and Bakuretsu Hunters. Yeah, I know. I'm all over the place.

4. What are your Top 5 fics by kudos?

lol, my most read fics on ao3 are all TOG fics, except for the 1st place, which frankly will probably change in a few months, since that fic has been up for a decade and my TOG works are brand new and full of possibilities. :D

1) Sometimes (I think I can dream) – it’s a Daryl/Glenn (TWD) I wrote back in 2011. It’s the only fic I wrote for that fandom, but I’m so damn proud of it. 18k words of porn and the best first kiss I have written.

2) Wistful is the rain – Joe/Nicky omegaverse and my pride and joy. It has some actual plot and world-building and it was also the first time I ever managed to finish writing a story while I was publishing it.

3) birth among the ruins – my very first omegaverse, which I wrote mostly out of spite and ended up liking a lot, cause life is that funny. I loved playing with the religious themes here and the fic is quite good.

4) the stiff heart – my BigBang fic, which took me months to write because I did so much research for it. It's my love letter to Yusuf, my beloved, and beautifully illustrated by the super talented @eiseul.

5) A potter’s field – my debut fic for TOG, only 1K and done in a couple of hours after I joined the top!Joe server. I started to write quite late for this fandom, but boy did I start with a bang.

5. Do you always respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do. It can take me literal years, but I always catch up with comments. I do appreciate every single feedback I ever got in my life, and I have replied to all of them. So, if I haven’t replied to you yet, don’t worry, I will get there.

6. What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Hmm, I wrote a lot of Angst™ back in the day. My most read Harry Potter fic is an angst fest, but since I started to write in English, I had dialled it down, possibly because as I got older I also became less... edgy. I mean, I still write tons of angst, but I tend to stick with happy endings whenever I can. On ao3, my angstier fics are probably Rust (Death Note) and Heroes for Ghosts (Inglourious Basterds), but the angst ending is only because I followed the canon. For TOG, most of my fics have some angst, but everything works out in the end.

7. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve ever written?

Not really, no. I do read them, tho.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

In TOG I had to deal with a couple of smartasses who think they're fighting racism by sticking a dick up Joe’s ass, but outright hate? No, I can’t say that I have (and I know I'm one of the lucky ones). For Harry Potter on the other hand, oh boy, I have had entire fics deleted from FFNET because I wrote *gasp* g a y p o r n. The early 2000s were WILD, y'all.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

The very first fic I wrote in my life was a PWP and on ao3 most of my fics are rated E or M. Out of the 38 works I have posted there, 22 have the tag “Porn with Feelings” and I promise you I don't tag it lightly.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not my own fic, but I had translations stolen more than once.

11. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have done it for Harry Potter and had a blast. I love it because it's about writing and editing so it doesn't end up like each part/chapter is written by a completely different person, it has to have some unity and that's hard, but it can be very rewarding. More recently I have co-written a JoeNicky omegaverse with the amazing @quincette: it’s called Youthful Indiscretions and it was the most fantastic experience ever and I can't wait to do it again.

12. What’s your all time favorite ship?

The fuck is this question? Ugh, okay. My favourite ship is usually my current ship because it’s where I’m invested at the moment, but well. The ship I have written the largest number of fics for is Sirius/Remus (Harry Potter), but I’d say that Joe/Nicky is probably getting close in word count by now. I can see myself being a JoeNicky fan for the rest of my life, because this couple has everything that I love, it has enemies to lovers, being very horny for one another, they're interracial and interfaith, it has found family and they're c a n o n and cannot be killed.

13. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Bakuretsu Hunters (Sorcerer Hunters), a manga/anime from the 1990s. I was 17 going 18 when I wrote 2,4k words of porn about Gateau/Marron. It was the only fic I wrote for that ship, tho.

14. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

The fuck is this question again??? Ugh, I am gonna stick with my fics written in English, so I'd say it’s currently a tie between Wistful is the rain (TOG), Sometimes (I think I can dream) (TWD) and Rapid Eye Movement (Inception, mind you this fic is still a wip on ao3, but it’s complete in my LJ. I will get around in bringing all my English fics to ao3… someday). They're stories that took me months to write, all canonverse and I got amazing feedback regarding the character's voices, which for me is the most important thing when writing fanfic, tbh, so I'm just really proud of them. Plus, they're stories I wrote in my second language, which I learned by myself, by reading other people's fics, so for me, it's a great achievement in itself.

----

God, this took me a while, but it was so fun! :)

Now, I'm not sure who has been tagged in this already, but here we go: @quincette @moonlettuce @whoreschach @lisea18 @ignisentis @sal-si-puedes @boulangerlee @mother-of-hedgehogs ... and, well, anyone who feels like doing this should do it (and you can blame me if you want to).

#fanfic ask game #ao3 #writer's life #tog: my writing #joe x nicky #immortal husbands #tog: fic

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yee-fxcking-haw · 4 years

Text

What Happens Next?

A/N: Y'ALL I FUCKIN DID IT I FINISHED THE DAMN FIC. So I definitely bit off more than I could chew by making my first fic a multipart with so much fucking emotion and such a busy plot but lol we did it! Thank you to everyone who has read the story and asked to be tagged and sent me kind words I love y'all so damn much.

Warnings/Rating: 18+ explicit content, very soft romantic smut, unprotected sex, almost a blowjob, James finishes inside the reader. A lot of fluffy love making petty much a great time.

Summary: In the sixth and final chapter of this series, James and you finally figure your shit out. You have to stop running from each other, what you have is far too brilliant...

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Part Five

Playlist

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Part Six

Annie's Diner

"I'm a nurse! I'm a nurse, let me see him!" A soft voice calls out over your shoulder. James' head turns towards the voice, his eyes fluttering back open.

"James?" You ask urgently.

"Relax doll, I was just restin' my eyes for a second. Fightin' off assholes is hard work."

He slowly raises to brace himself on his elbows, wincing a little while he does.

The nurse comes around and drops to her knees on the other side of him. She's a pretty little thing with honey colored hair and bright brown eyes.

"Just give us one second dear, I'm certain he's alright I just need to check for a concussion."

You don't answer, you just nod and get up to turn to the small crowd that's begun to disperse, seemingly disappointed with the lack of action.

This is an opportunity for you to finally take a deep breath and process everything that's happene. Air fills your lungs, shoulders rising and tensing for a moment. You release and let your posture fall back down, letting yourself portray outwardly how drained you feel inside. You've gone from hating James and being terrified of him, to being saved by him, to understanding him to… what now? If everything he's said is true, then everything that happened between you two is just as meaningful as it was before prom. Although, misunderstanding or not, it still hurt like hell. You should be more cautious, right? You shouldn't just run back into his arms like everything's fine, even though it is.

You turn to look back at him, long legs sprawled on the pavement while the alleged nurse checks his pulse and his pupils. He's joking about something, you can tell by the way his eyebrows are sitting higher and the lopsided smile on his face. He's propped up on his elbows, strong arms straining against his shirt. The image sends you back to the afternoon that changed it all, you remember his solid body collapsing onto your lap in a dramatic display of feigned illness. Your lips twitch into a small smile at the thought. You shake your head and walk back towards them.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you look worried about me doll." He jests, the nurse turns to glance at you and smiles fondly.

"Your fella is just fine dear, try and keep him on a shorter leash next time." She chuckles as she stands and dusts off her pretty green skirt, James follows, wincing as he stands.

You feel your cheeks heat up at the implication that James is yours, while he wears a very satisfied smirk at the idea. You swallow thickly and give her a silent nod. James thanks her sweetly for checking him, she says something back to him but you've completely zoned out. Her comment has senr you into a state of utter confusion. Is he your fella? No, you never established that. He did call you his girl though, so that would make him your fella. On top of that, what happened on the roof after Coney Island doesn't just happen between friends, not even friends with benefits. The way he held you so tightly, the way he littered kisses down your spine. Those aren't things you share with someone that doesn't belong to you.

The nurse politely ducks away to go back into the diner with the rest of the onlookers. Leaving you and James to stand alone in the dimly lit parking lot. His jaw looks much worse for wear, the skin is so angry and red. He'll definitely have a bruise, an ugly one at that. James lets out a long sigh, staring down at you with those big blue eyes. Despite it all, the idiot is still smiling. You scowl up at him, you cross your arms and lean to one side, refusing to let him crack you.

"You mad at me?" He asks timidly, he gives you an exaggerated pout while he lifts a hand to tuck some hair behind your ear.

You don't say a word. Of course you're mad at him. He scared you half to death, all for what? Just so he could feel like the tough guy? To prove a point to you? To prove a point to himself? He must have known the fight would end with him beat or worse and he has gall to ask if you're mad?

"Hey." He breathes, his hand comes to rest under your chin so he can tilt your face up with his knuckles. The gesture makes your heart flutter wildly.

"I get it, that was stupid, could've gotten hurt much worse and all that." He says, his eyes are gentle and attentive.

You huff and blink up at him, waiting for the rest of his explanation.

"He just- he came in there talkin' all that shit about you bein' his. It pissed me off is all, you're not his. You're not really anybody's- I mean, I'd like to make you mine- but not in the way he meant. I don't want to own you, I wanna love you, doll. I wanna keep you safe and make you laugh and get my ass beat in skee ball and do all that other cheesy crap. I know I fucked up so badly, but baby please-"

He doesn't get a chance to finish his little rant, the second he calls you baby your hands fly to the sides of his face. As it always does with him, your body moves separate from your mind. You smash your lips into his and you feel his hands settle on your waist, clutching you like you're going to float away at any second. That same baffling electricity thrums through your body as your lips move against each other. The rhythm of the kiss is like an echo of the one you shared on the roof. It has the same tide like push and pull, each of you giving and taking from each other in perfect unison. His lips are soft and urgent against yours, his grip solid and grounding. His hands slide towards each other behind you so his arms can find their home around your waist. The feeling makes you sigh against his lips. After months of being without this feeling, after only having it once, all you've done is want it back and now you have it again.

The kiss only breaks so you can both breathe, foreheads still pressed together, wanting to stay as connected as possible. He smiles down at you, it's a beautiful dopey grin. The look he's giving you makes a shiver run up your spine.

"You wanna go skinny dipping?" You ask, absolutely shocked at your own words.

What the hell? Did Molly fucking possess you? He scoffs and ducks down so his eyes are level with yours.

"Do I wanna what?!" He starts cracking up, and you can't help but join him, the absurdity of it all getting to you.

You can't help but think why the hell not. After all of this, all the confusion and the hurt, you two deserve a night like you shared months ago. Maybe you're an idiot, maybe you're only acting based on an emotional response to what James has done for you tonight. But fucking hell, why not just put it all behind you and live a little? James wants to be yours, he wants you to be his. You need to just let it be and stop fighting the way you both keep hurtling towards each other. So yeah, you want to go skinny dipping. It's the most impulsive, idiotic thing you can think of, and you've always wanted to try it.

"I think you know my answer." He chuckles.

"Let go then." You say quickly, turning on your heels so you can head to the truck before you change your mind.

"Woah kid wait up." He calls out to you while he laughs as he follows.

You reach the truck and swing the door open so you can hop in, he scrambles in as you frantically shove the keys in and crank it into gear.

"Hey." His soft voice snaps you out of your manic state. Your eyes dark to his and you feel your breathing slow down some.

"How 'bout we save the skinny dipping for another time?" He asks, voice soft and steady.

You just nod, becoming aware of how hard you were trying to be light-hearted and fun to mask how overwhelmed you're feeling.

"We don't have to move so fast, doll. We did last time and it didn't go so well, I don't wanna mess up this time." He says, his silvery eyes don't leave yours for a second.

Your head moves up and down silently again, you pull some air into your lungs slowly. He's right. You're trying too hard to make everything ok again. You just want to feel like you did on the roof, you want to be free of all the shit that's happened. James has a point though, you've both learned what happens when things move too quick for you both to keep track of it all. You have to be careful with it this time. Careful and boring are often mistakingly paired together, but not with James. It's undeniable that what you have with him is irreplaceable, which makes it all the more critical that you both handle this like it's made of glass.

"So, what do you want to do?" Your voice is so small, almost unrecognizable.

"I want to dance with you." He states, making your heart soar.

"Like, back at the dance hall?" You ask, the stress evident in your voice.

"God no, we can go to my house." He says it like it's obvious.

"Won't your family mind?" The idea of meeting them now makes you extremely anxious. It would be rather awkward to show up to meet his mother for the first time while he's wearing a shiner you half gave him.

"My Ma and my sister are at my aunt's house." He explains, his voice is laced with a tentative tone.

"Oh…" You exhale gently, understanding the situation.

"Only if you want to, I promise I'll behave." His tone shifts to something slightly taunting.

You can't help but smile, he's always quite the charmer.

"What fun would that be?" You chuckle, "Take me home, Bucky."

The nickname makes him smile in the most dazzling way, it stays glued to his face almost the whole way to his house.

James' House

You pull up to the front of an adorable little white house. It's very sweet looking, very simple and quaint. As the engine dies you glance over at James, he's looking at the house with a very solemn, spaced out gaze. Instinctively, you reach out and grab his hand, sliding your fingers between his own.

"I know…" You say as gently as you can. It's his dad, you know because you wear that look far too often. James just nods slowly, closing his eyes for a moment. You don't dare speak again, you just hold his hand. You don't need to say anything, you don't ever want people to say anything when you have the same feeling. All you can do is sit and understand him. Your chest fills with a horrible ache at the sight, but you're also filled with a strange relief. You aren't alone, and he isn't either. You have each other, you know each other, you get to love each other.

He lets the air fall out of his chest, face softening as he does.

"Thank you, doll." His eyes meet yours and he offers you a weak smile.

"Let's go inside." He says. He walks around to help you out of the truck, offering his hand like a gentleman. You want to slap it away out of instinct, but tonight is different.

He helps you down then wraps his hand around yours as he leads you up the sidewalk.

Before he opens the door he presses a kiss on the side of your head. It's quick and soft, and very different from the way he's kissed you before. Every other time it's felt like he prepared for it, and you had time to brace for it. This time it feels like he's used to doing it, like it's a natural thing.

The house is exactly what you would anticipate the home of a widow to look like. Decorated with lace doilies, soft blankets draped on the couch, and delicate lamps that cast a fuzzy yellow haze over the room. The living room is right off of the front door, and the kitchen is just an extension of it. A cute little staircase is on the left wall leading up to what you can only imagine is an equally quaint upstairs.

James walks confidently into his home, straight for the record player. As he fiddles with it you wander over to the fireplace. The mantle is littered in beautiful family photos, just like at your house. His father is in many of them, kissing his mom, holding a young James on his shoulder, cradling a baby you assume must be James' sister. He was handsome like James, but their faces aren't identical, you can see where his face is a balance of the two individuals. Your chest burns with remorse, knowing that these pictures serve as the only thing they have left of the man they all loved so well.

You startle just a little when James wraps his arms around your waist from behind, but relax when he presses a kiss into the side of your neck.

"It's alright, doll." He mumbles. You don't know if he says it for you or for him, but it doesn't matter. You let yourself sink further into the comfort of being known so well by James.

The music pops into existence, a gentle rhythm fills the room. The song is made of soft trumpets and strings, it's a beautiful, romantic melody. Something you would expect old lovers to sway to in their living room. You and James have the lovers part down, you just need to grow old and have your own living room. Is that even in the cards for you two? You sure as hell hope it is. You remember your realization on the roof that night, thinking about how if love isn't like what you two have, you don't want to love at all.

The feeling suffocates you as he spins you around in his arms. His eyes see right through you as his hands find their home on your waist while your arms slide around his neck.

"I love you doll, I never stopped." He breathes with an urgent look in his eyes.

He starts to sway with you around the living room as you gaze up at him completely dumbfounded. Of course he loves you, and you love him. Yes, you have so much left to learn about each other, but my God has James stolen your heart. Ever since you two left that classroom, you've been consuming each other's thoughts. You've been willing yourselves to try and understand the electricity that sparks between you. It's been so fucking messy, but now that you're in his arms again, dancing like an old married couple, you finally understand it all.

"I love you too…" You say it so softly it's almost not heard, but James catches it.

That dazzling smile spreads across his face, it's contagious nature making your own lips split into a grin.

"Would my outstanding skills in the bedroom have anything to do with that?" He says with a sickly sweet voice.

"James!" You laugh and slap his arm. He throws his head back to let out a playful laugh, the sound sets off a swarm of butterflies in your stomach.

"I wouldn't know what your skills are like in the bedroom anyway, I only know what they're like on a roof." You joke.

"We could change that." He says, his voice taking on a much lower tone.

You both freeze and stare into each other's eyes. The air around you feels so thick and the room starts to blur a little, everything except James.

Then you're on each other. Your lips crash together and your hands snag whatever they can. You let out a whiney noise from the back of your throat, which only spurs James on more. His hand grabs at your waist and he licks at your bottom lip. His actions inspire a wonderful heat to settle in your stomach, the feeling gives you confidence you've never felt before. You slide your hands up his chest to grasp his collar, silently begging him to come closer. The two of you break for air for only a second, eyes glued to each other as you pant and try to comprehend the fire growing between you.

"What are you waiting for, Bucky?" You tease.

A wild look spreads in his eyes and a wide grin overtakes his handsome face. Before you can make another witty comment, James brings his strong hands to the backs of your thighs and hoists you up so you can wrap your legs around him. You let out a shocked giggle but gladly welcome his choice to hold you like this. Now level with his face, you throw your arms around his shoulders and place a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose. He wrinkles his face dramatically and let's out a low chuckle.

"I'm gonna drive you wild, doll." He responds with all the confidence in the world.

Of course, his words make your chest ache with desire, your thighs involuntarily squeeze him a little tighter. With the natural push and pull that you two have, his body responds to your actions without thought. He lets his hands slide up to hold your thighs dangerously close to the swell of your ass, fire spreading to your center as he does.

"That's some big talk." You mumble, blinking at him slowly.

"It sure is." His eyes wander down to your lips, not even a second passes before you're on each other again. He damn near kisses the breath out of your lungs this time, his soft, skilled lips make you head spin and all you can do is hold on tight.

"Can I take you to my room?" He asks against your lips. His voice has a gentle, begging tone to it that makes you shiver.

"Please." You sigh as you let your hands slide into the soft hair on the back of his head. He kisses you hard and walks blindly up the stairs, then he's kicking the door open to what you can only assume is his room. You feel your body falling then feel your back meet a soft mattress. Bucky settles easily between your legs and your heart races when you feel how hard he is already. His hot mouth is on your neck instantly, painting your skin with needy kisses.

"Can I take this off of you?" He mumbles while he pulls at the fabric of your dress.

You can't help but giggle at his enthusiasm.

"Gettin' right into it, huh?" You say.

He brings his hand up so he can hold your face and run his thumb across your cheek bone. His eyes are soft but determined as he studies your face.

"I don't wanna waste any more time." He says simply, the phrase is loaded with months of longing. His confession dazzles you, leaving you laying there with no idea how to breathe. All you can do is nod in understanding and revel in the feeling of his wet kisses against your neck again. He gently hikes your dress up to your waist, then quickly brings his hands back down so he can run them up your thighs. His hands settle on your hips, thumbs pressing on the bones so he can pin you down slightly as he rolls his hips against your center.

Your hands instinctively claw at his broad back as a hiss leaves your lips.

"Let me get on top." You sigh, completely shocking yourself with your boldness.

You feel him smile against your collar bone before his hands glide up to hold your waist. He flips you both over with ease, granting you your wish without argument. You catch your breath as you settle on his lap, hands splayed across his chest.

"I'm all yours, doll." His eyes fall down your body sinfully, making your chest seize up and your legs squeeze around him.

You lean down to capture his lips in yours again, sighing contentedly when he moves against you like he did when you kissed for the first time on the roof.

"I missed you." You mutter against his mouth.

"Let's make up for that, yeah?" He replies quickly as he moves to pull your dress over your head. You lift your arms and let him undress you as you sit back. Soon the dress is out of the way and his warm hands are holding your waist again, thumbs brushing up and down against your skin. You become suddenly ashamed of your lackluster underwear and you feel your cheeks heat up as you watch James' eyes skate down your figure. As if he senses you unease, he sits up and snakes his arms around your waist. He presses a delicate kiss into the swell of each of your breasts as you card your fingers through his hair.

"You're so perfect." He whispers against your skin.

"Can I take this off?" He asks, bringing his thumbs up to hook his fingers around your bra straps.

Somehow, everything about this feels even more innocent than the first time you two made love. Maybe it's the knowledge that you don't have to show off, talk dirty, or have all the hot moves in order to impress each other. You're both just enchanted by the presence of one another. Finally, you're both able to just be together. There's no fear of what people will say about you in school tomorrow, no terrifying rumor hanging over your head. Just you and James, able to lose yourselves completely in this wonderful moment you've found.

You carefully undress each other, leaving tender kisses on any newly exposed skin, whispering sweet nothings as well as declarations of devotion. You cherish every second that passes as you explore each other's bodies again. Soon you're both fully exposed to each other, your hands grasp desperately at his shoulder as soon as you feel his erect length graze your core. You think back to how his lips felt between your legs, and you immediately want to repay the favor. You slink down his body until you settle between his legs. His abs tense as you slide your palms up his muscular thighs.

You know Bucky is big, especially after last time, but being face to face with his dick makes you realize his size is genuinely intimidating. He looks beautiful like this, all flushed and hard. His tip is a pretty shade of dark pink, similar to his lips, and there's a small bead of precum leaking out of his slit. The sight makes you clench your thighs and lick your lips.

"See somethin' you like?" He teases.

"I sure do." You flirt back, wasting no time in wrapping your hand around his length to give him one slow pump. He throws his head back with as you bring your lips to his tip and give it a chaste kiss.

"Tell me if I do something wrong, please." You say, the tremble in your voice revealing just how nervous you really are.

James shoots up instantly, grabbing the wrist of the hand that's around his dick while the other comes up to cup your face. His thumb slides across your cheek bone affectionately as he stares at you with his kind blue eyes.

"Doll, if you're not ready for that, don't do it." His voice is like rich hot chocolate, spreading through your body and warming every nerve.

"But, last time you- I figure I owed you…" It makes sense in your head, but by the look he gives you it doesn't make any sense to him.

"Baby," He breathes out, leaning in to kiss your forehead, "Come here."

With gentle hands he pulls you into his lap so you can straddle him while he takes your face in his hands, gazing up at you with intensity.

"Anything I do for you, is because I want to. You don't owe me a damn thing. If you're ever not ready for something you tell me, and we can talk about it, ok?" His voice has a hint of urgency to it, like he can't stress the words enough.

You nod silently as you try to understand the man beneath you. Your brain desperately claws through your vocabulary to find the words to best describe the beautiful human being you've fallen for. All you can come up with is something terribly insufficient, but incredibly accurate. He's kind. He's a "heart if gold" kind of guy. Under the charm, the handsome face, the quick witted humor, James Barnes is the kindest person you've ever met.

Your lips are on his before he can say anything else, following that involuntary reaction you've developed whenever you're around him. He kisses you back as fiercely as you kiss him, heavy breaths falling from his mouth as you work against one another. You can't help but whimper when you feel the hot skin of his dick slide along your drenched core.

"Make love to me, James, please-" You beg against his lips.

All he can manage is a moan against your mouth as he reaches down between you to grab himself so he can get lined up at your entrance. He opens his mouth to say something, but it's stolen from him as you inch down to slide the tip in. A beautiful, lustful sigh leaves his puffy lips as you do. It's still a harsh stretch for your walls, but this time you can anticipate it and welcome it. Slowly, you descend until he's in you completely. As soon as he's bottomed out you lean your forehead on his shoulder and let out a pitiful whine.

"You ok, doll?" He asks, nudging his nose against your jaw.

"I'm good, you're just so big…" You sigh. His grip on your waist tightens and you feel him twitch inside you.

"Careful sweetheart, don't want this ego getting any bigger." He teases, earning an airy giggle from you.

You brace yourself by holding his shoulders, rolling your hips tentatively. He kisses your neck when you do so and slides his arms around your waist, so you must be doing something right. You mimic the movement with a little more confidence this time. You can't help but bring your head up and send James a nervous glance, and he's more than willing to reassure you.

"That's good baby, that feels good." He says with a voice like honey as he skates his lips across your neck.

His praising words make your insides melt, spurring you on as you keep rolling against him. The way the soft skin of his dick moves against your soaked walls in euphoric. Your hands cling to each other, lips kiss where the can, short breaths fall from your mouth. All of it creates a truly beautiful atmosphere. It's nothing like the urgent, frantic mood you had last time. This doesn't feel like two teenagers who can't wait to see somebody naked for the first time. This feels like two people who want to be uncovered by each other.

His hands slide so he can spread his palms across your damp back and you shiver from the feather soft intimacy of the motion. Your forehead falls against his and your eyes lock.

"You're incredible." You sigh as brilliant sparks of pleasure start to build in your core.

You slowly build the pace of your hips until you're rocking against him with a rhythm that makes his nails claw at your back as he groans and pants. He's so deep inside you, reaching and rubbing against every sweet spot you have.

"Fuck- that's perfect doll- so fucking perfect." His voice has climbed in pitch slightly, he sounds almost whiney.

Your head falls to his shoulder, you shove your mouth against his collarbone in an attempt to muffle a pitiful sob as it shakes your abdomen. The feelings are all so fucking intense, your eyes screw shut as your walls start to flutter. Your chest aches as your head spins, completely incapable of comprehending all of the sensations drowning you in this moment.

"James- James I'm gonna-" Your words are cut off completely as one of his strong arms easily cradles you so he can flip you onto your back. You hit the mattress and he doesn't give you a single second to catch your breath before he's rocking his hips against yours.

"Fucking hell." You huff out as he plants his hands on either side of your head so he can bare down even more when he thrusts.

"I wanna see you, wanna see that pretty face." Both of you moan uncontrollably when you spread your legs even more to give him better access. Soon he's hitting some rapturous spot deep within you, setting off every nerve in your body.

Tears gather in your eyes and it takes every ounce of self control you have to not succumb to the desire to start crying beneath him. His body is moving so beautifully above you, every muscle working to give you everything he has. Your eyes burn with the tears you refuse to let fall as you pull your bottom lip into your mouth to keep another sob caged inside you.

"Baby, don't hide anything." He says with a broken voice as he drops to his elbows so he can bring his face closer to your own.

"Cry if you need to, I got you." He punctuates his sentence with a stunning moan, and it absolutely breaks you. Your body trembles as you finally release all the emotion you've been suppressing. Your back arches and you finally let the tears cascade down the sides of your face. The sight of you falling apart beneath him, so fragile and overstimulated, it motivates him even more. His pace increases as he chants nonsense phrases of adoration to you.

He tells you how beautiful you are, how tight you feel, how good you are for him. All while your entire body quakes for him and his magnificent pace. You don't want to say his thrusts are hard, that word seems so utterly insufficient for how he's making love to you right now. His movements are committed, he fills you up with every push in and leaves you wanting so much more every time he draws back out.

"Baby you feel so good- fuck- please don't stop." You beg him as your cunt starts to pulse around him again, body edging towards that blinding release.

"No fuckin' way, I'm never gonna stop." He pants while his thick eyebrows push towards each other as his face crumples into a look of intense focus.

He braces himself on one arm so he can snake a skilled hand between your bodies, thumb finding your swollen clit almost immediately. It hits you immediately, almost before he even touches your sensitive bud. Your body anticipates his touch and sends itself over the edge, and my God it's fucking brilliant. Your pussy grips onto his cock as it slides in and out, your hands claw at his hot skin as his name falls from your lips. You sing him a pitiful song, made of incoherent swearing and plenty of crying.

"That's it sweet girl, give it to me- shit you're squeezin' the life outta me." You barely retain the words as he spits them out between frantic breaths as he chases his own high.

In one fluent motion, James flips your legs over each of his shoulders. He grabs the meat of your hips and lifts your pelvis off the bed as he brings his torso upright so he can settle back on his knees. If you thought you were crying before, you were fucking wrong. You scream out as tears flood your face, you can't tell if you're hurtling into another orgasm before your first has even finished, or if it's all just one long, mind numbing climax. Regardless, it's too good to be true. Every inch of you tingles and clenches as James snaps his hips into you, the angle sends fluorescent jolts of pleasure into your cunt and up your abs.

"Yeah doll, keep cumming for me, you feel so fuckin' perfect." He tosses his head back as he nearly shouts your name.

Your body starts to cool down just enough to provide some clarity. You're still twitching and tears are still rolling, but you at least have the wits to throw some praises at him. It's the least you can do when he's working so hard to make you fall apart.

"Fuck James, you made me cum so hard." Your words have an affect on him instantly, his fingertips bite at your flesh as hips tense and you feel his cock twitch inside you.

"You make me feel so good baby, you drive me fuckin' crazy." He lets go of your hips and throws your legs apart so he can fall on top of you again. He presses his forehead against yours before his lips meet your own so he can kiss you like it's the last time he'll ever have the chance.

"Let me feel you cum James- fuck- do it inside me, I want you to cum inside me." Your hands are at the sides of his face, thumbs rubbing his temples affectionately as you lose your mind.

"Oh baby- shit doll- I'm gonna- oh my God- Fuck!" With that final exclamation he buries himself inside you, enchanting moans fall from his full lips as he tenses and fills you. You hold still and focus on the feeling of his cock pulsing inside you as he moans above you. His sounds are so full of relief and what must be exhaustion. Your eyes flutter open to observe him while he finishes. His eyebrows are high with his eyes shut and his lips parted as he tries to catch his breath while his orgasm fizzles out. His eyelids slowly peel apart and soon you're both watching each other. You're completely enthralled by the work of art above you, and he is entirely captured by the muse below him.

Slowly, like he doesn't want to ever leave, he inches his softening length out of you. You hate the feeling of him leaving your body, you hate how empty you feel. He presses a fond kiss to your forehead while he smooths some of your sweaty hair down.

"Don't move." He whispers. Then he's off of the bed and through his bedroom door, you assume to find something to get you both cleaned up.

Your body is still buzzing from every moment you've just shared with him, you gingerly roll to your side and pull the sheets up against your naked form. You pay little mind the mess spilling from your core, ignorant to the possible consequences it might have. You glance around his room, taking note of all the baseball cards, the toy cars, and the dirty sneakers. The room is bathed in the dull yellow streetlights, giving it a glow that seems otherworldly. It all does. Especially James.

He reappears with a washcloth and a glass of water. The sight makes your heart swell immeasurably, he's still naked but it doesn't strike you as anything to be bashful about. It's all of him, all of James and his unmatched beauty. It feels natural to be this exposed with each other, it feels right.

"Such a gentleman." You tease as he walks towards the bed so he can sit on the edge.

"For you? Of course." His smile is as dazzling as always while he hands you the glass of water. You prop yourself up on your elbows so you can take the glass and sip it slowly. Thankful for the relief the cold liquid brings your exhausted throat.

"Spread those gorgeous legs." He says as he takes the glass back from you so he can set it on the nightstand.

"Round two already?" You joke.

His laugh is full and rich, it spreads through your veins and makes adoration bubble in your chest.

"Not yet, doll." He presses the cloth between your folds to clean up his mess, the sensation makes you jump a little, but he's done as quickly as he's started. The cloth joins a pile of dirty clothes in the corner after he tosses over his shoulder, then he's climbing back into bed with you. He opens his arms once he's on his back beside you. Naturally, you settle into his side and lay your head on his chest. His fingers trace along your spine as he kisses the crown of your head.

"You're a beautiful little thing." He mumbles, voice heavy with a sleepy tone.

"You're perfect, just perfect." It almost sounds like he's talking in his sleep, so you glance up to check.

He's wide awake, glacial eyes piercing your own as he gazes down at you.

"Thank you, for all of this." You say. By all of it, you mean for the love, for the spark of life, for the precious bond you've found. Somehow without saying all of it, you know he knows exactly what you mean.

"Thank you for loving an idiot like me." He says softly.

"It couldn't be anybody else." You say, completely resolute in your admittance.

You lay there like that for God knows how long, just drinking each other in. Mumbling words of praise, astounded by each other's existence. You exchange sweet little jokes, press priceless kisses into every inch of skin you can reach, and make beautiful promises.

"James?" You say as you draw figure eights on his chest with your finger tip.

"What happens next?" You question.

He takes a deep breath in as he twirls your hair between his fingers.

"Well-" He's cut off by the sound of the front door opening. You both bolt upright off the bed, clinging to the sheets. The sounds of lovely, soft laughter fills the house. One is the laugh of a woman, full and warm, the other is bright and twinkly, obviously belonging to a younger girl.

"Shit." You whisper simultaneously as you glance at each other with pounding hearts.

"James?" The woman's voice calls.

"Yeah ma?" James hollers back, hand coming to hold yours as he tries to keep his mouth straight, obviously entertained by the misfortune of the situation.

"Whose truck is that out front?" She asks, then footsteps start to echo as she climbs the stairs.

"Oh my God." You whisper.

"I guess you're meeting my mom, that's what happens next." He says quietly. Your eyes are on his immediately, every reasonable part of you says to panic, but the look on James' face is absolutely priceless. His cheeks are pink as he pulls his lips over his teeth to keep from busting out in laughter. It's ok though, you do it for him. Soon you're both doubling over with laughter, embracing the inevitable awkward encounter that you're about to have with his poor mother. It'll be ok, it'll be wonderful, anything will as long as you two stick together.

Taglist:

@b-o-n-e-daddy @lillsrecs @all-art-is-quite-useless @brownlee-22 @peace-love-hobbitness @pinknerdpanda @supernaturalwintersoldier @can-i-sin-right-now @pennyroyalcreep @jessyballet @calwitch @aurora-sweet @learisa

#bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan #bucky x reader #captain america #marvel smut #sebastian stan smut #winter solider x you #marvel

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