Rick Grimes X F!Reader X Daryl Dixon Smut: And There Was Only One Bed

The Safe House

Pairing: Hunter x fem!Reader / Hunter x Medic!Reader

Words: 12,466

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, friends/squadmates to lovers, idiots to lovers actually, mutual pining, some very minor wound care, consent is sexy and so is communication, smut, oral (m and f receiving), coming untouched, dirty talk, scent kink maybe

Summary: After a mission goes sideways, you and Hunter are left stranded for the night. Lucky for you, you know of a safe house nearby. Unlucky for you, there's only one bed.

A/N: I can't even pretend to feel shame about this. Hunter loves to eat and that's it, that's the fic.

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“Well, shit.”

Your hand falls from the doorknob, staring into the cabin with a look of horror on your face. It’s smaller than you remembered. A kitchenette, a fireplace, a dusty armchair, and a single bed. The walls are wood-paneled, a few worn posters hanging on them. The door to the bathroom is open, and you can see the shower stall, but not much else. 

When you and Hunter were left stranded on this planet, you hadn’t worried. There was a safe house here, after all, one from your days before you became the squad’s medic. Hunter was in no shape to help you out, and with the Marauder making an emergency landing on the other side of the planet… well, it was safer to split up. This safe house had been the closest one, so you did the smart thing. You went there.

Except, this is not the safe house you remembered.

You remember it being big. Not huge, but certainly large enough for a couple people to crash in until rescue came. Certainly not a tiny, one room shack with one bed. You don't even know if that bed is big enough for both you and Hunter.

Hunter props his arm up on the doorframe, peering in over your shoulder, but he doesn't have much to add to your statement. He looks into the room, then back down at you. He doesn’t say anything, which only makes the situation more uncomfortable. You know you have to go in, but…

You don’t move, even though Hunter is standing behind you, blocking your way out. The two of you have been out here for several minutes now in the cold, just staring at the one tiny bed inside the cabin. There was no couch, or cot, or anything else. Just the single bed. Your mind was already racing with possibilities, most of them not so great.

Your cheeks are starting to hurt from clenching your jaw, and you finally break the silence.

"We're adults,” you state, firmly.

"We are,” Hunter says. He sounds uncertain, so you turn around to look at him.

"And we're both capable of sharing a bed. There's plenty of room,” you continue, nodding, as if confirming your words to yourself.

Hunter nods along, too, but the two of you just stand there, unmoving.

Finally, Hunter speaks up. "You... want to go in, or...?"

He lets his words trail off, and you know what he's getting at. You're the one holding us up.

"I'm going, I'm going!" you snap as you look back into the cabin, but you're still not moving.

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. "You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure."

"Because you haven't actually gone inside yet."

You whirl around and glare up at Hunter, but you can't find the words to respond, and your face is flushed. It's the cold, you tell yourself, refusing to admit that you're blushing. It's not the situation you're in, and it's not the idea of having to share a bed with Hunter, of all people.

It's the cold.

He smiles, and you almost slap him, but his words stop you.

"I don't mind sharing a bed with you."

It's an honest admission, and the sincerity in his words takes you off guard.

"Really?" you ask, unable to hide the surprise in your voice.

"Really." 

Hunter's eyes meet yours and you're suddenly very aware of how close the two of you are standing. His breath ghosts across your cheeks, a cloud of mist from the cold. You feel warmth bloom in your chest. 

"If you're okay with it,” he adds. He's watching you closely now, waiting to see what your reaction is. He's giving you an out, and you're grateful for it. But the way his eyes are locked onto yours, the way his lips are pulled into a half smile, the way he seems to be holding his breath...

You shake your head, breaking the moment.

"Yeah. Yes. I'm fine. Let's go in," you blurt out, and step inside, leaving Hunter to shut the door behind the two of you.

Once inside, you kick off your boots and set your bag down. You glance around, taking in the familiar room. The fireplace, the bed, the old armchair. Everything was just as you remembered it. Mostly.

You turn back to look at Hunter. He’s checking the firewood box, and he gives you a thumbs up, confirming there was enough to last the night. You let out a breath and smile at him, and he smiles back.

Then he turns to the bed.

And you're reminded of the situation you're in.

“You should sit down,” you say, gesturing towards the bed. “I need to take a look at that gash on your head."

He nods and does as he's told, sitting on the edge of the bed, and you sit beside him, careful to keep some distance between the two of you.

You take his chin in your hand and turn his head, getting a better look at the cut above his eye. It’s not that bad, thankfully. Bacta should heal it, and he wouldn't need any stitches, but the blood has dried and crusted around the wound. It's not going to be fun to clean.

“I should have done this earlier,” you mutter to yourself, your eyes scanning his face. You tilt his head from side to side, looking for any other signs of damage, but the rest of his face is free of cuts and bruises. Just a bit dirty, but nothing a little water won’t fix.

"It's fine," Hunter says quietly. There's no irritation in his voice, no indication that he's bothered by you fussing over him. In fact, he seems content to sit still while you finish examining him. He's not squirming away or trying to talk you out of doing this. If anything, he seems at ease.

 "I think you had more important things to do. Like keeping me conscious,” he continues. You pause and look down at him, and his dark eyes are fixed on you. You can't read his expression, but the corner of his mouth is curled up in a soft smile. It's an encouraging look, and you take a breath before continuing.

"I still shouldn't have forgotten.” You let go of him and stand to pull out an alcohol wipe from your bag. “I can't believe I didn't think about that, we've been walking for so long... Why didn't you tell me? Were you trying to be cool and pretend it didn't hurt or something?”

He scoffs and shakes his head. "Yeah. Something like that."

"Hunter," you chastise as you move to stand in front of him. His legs widen on instinct, making room for you between them, and you step closer until your thighs are nearly brushing his. "Don't be a martyr. It's not going to help anyone."

"Okay, okay," he holds his hands up, a teasing grin spreading across his face. "You got me. I wanted to show off for you."

"You already showed off,” you say, but you're smiling too. “You nearly concussed yourself in the process, so you've done enough impressing for the day."

You're not sure why you're being so playful with him, especially given the circumstances. You've never had a problem joking around with him before, but now, alone in this tiny cabin, it feels different. There's an undercurrent of something, and you're not sure what it is.

He doesn't respond to you, but he's still smiling. He tilts his head back a bit, giving you better access to the wound, and you take the hint. You rip open the wipe, and gently brush his hair away from the cut, and the smile fades. When you lean in closer to him, inspecting the wound, his hand brushes your hip. It's an innocent touch, the barest of contact before he pulls away, and you're sure it's an accident, but it still makes your breath hitch.

"Is it bad?" he asks, his voice quieter than it was a few seconds ago.

"No, no. It's just a cut. I think the swelling is starting to go down,” you say, your hand still in his hair. Your fingers are combing through his locks, smoothing the messy strands away from his forehead that his bandana normally keeps in place. Your thumb traces the curve of his temple, and he leans into your touch. It's an intimate gesture, but it feels right, and when you look down at him, his eyes are closed.

"That's good," he murmurs. His breath ghosts over your skin, the heat of it making goosebumps erupt along your arm.

"I'm gonna clean it, okay?"

Hunter nods, and the movement jostles you. His face is dangerously close to the juncture between your neck and shoulder, and the tip of his nose touches your skin. The urge to shiver is strong, but you ignore it. This isn't the time or the place to be thinking about things like this. You have a job to do, and Hunter needs your help.

"Hold still," you say, and he hums an affirmative. You take a deep breath and focus on the task at hand. “This will sting.”

"I've had worse,” he says, but the breathlessness of his voice has you questioning his words.

"Yeah, yeah." 

You're careful with him as you clean the wound, gently swiping the cloth over his skin. Hunter’s nose scrunches up, and his eyes squeeze shut, and you can't help the smile that appears on your face. It’s cute, but you keep that thought to yourself.

"You're doing great."

He chuckles. "Thanks."

You work in silence for a few minutes. You can feel his eyes on you as you work, but he doesn't say anything, and neither do you. You're too focused on your task, but your mind keeps wandering back to how close you are, closer than you've ever been. 

You're hyper aware of every little thing. The way the cold air of the cabin is starting to warm up from the fire, the way the bed creaks every time you shift your weight. How Hunter is watching your every move, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress, and your body is leaning into his.

The closeness is unfamiliar and overwhelming, and it makes you want to squirm. Or maybe run.

But instead, you stand stock still, and try not to think about the warmth emanating from him. He's so much bigger than you, his whole body a solid, firm wall against you, and it's a comforting feeling. He's safe. It's okay to lean into him, you reason. It's okay. It's fine. It's normal.

You're doing a favor for a friend. A friend who used to be your commanding officer, but now he's not really that anymore, and things are changing between the two of you. Your feelings, especially, are changing. You're not sure when it happened, or how it did, but they're changing.

You pull away abruptly and toss the used wipe into the trash, turning away from him.

“That should be fine," you say, and your voice is higher than it was before. You clear your throat, and grab the bacta spray.

"Thanks," he says, and you turn back to face him, avoiding his eyes. You can feel the heat rise to your face, and you clear your throat, focusing on the cut above his eye. You take out the bacta spray and pump the nozzle a few times, the familiar hissing noise filling the air.

"Alright, this'll just take a minute. Let me know if it's too cold."

"It's fine."

You nearly roll your eyes. Of course it's fine. It's Hunter. Nothing ever bothers him. He's perfect.

You can’t remember a single time where he’s ever complained about something, so you believe him. You don’t expect him to react any differently now. 

You certainly don’t expect him to gasp the moment the spray hits his skin, his hands finding your hips and holding onto you. He’s tense, fingers digging into the fabric of your clothes. He's not pushing you away, though, and his hands stay where they are, his thumbs rubbing circles into your hips.

"You good?" You stop spraying, and move to pull away, but he shakes his head.

"I'm alright. Keep going."

You swallow and do as he asks. He keeps his grip on your hips, loosening his hold every now and then, but the pain doesn't seem to bother him as much. After a minute, the bacta has sealed the cut, leaving behind a small pink scar. You put the spray away, and run your thumb along the mark, the skin smooth beneath your touch.

Hunter sighs, the sound low and content, his eyes fluttering closed. He leans into your hand, and you can't help the warmth that blooms in your chest.

"Better?" you ask, your voice soft.

"Yeah."

You continue to stroke his skin, and his grip tightens. You're not sure what to do next. Do you pull away? Do you ask him to move his hands? Do you stay here and enjoy this moment for as long as you can? 

Hunter’s eyes are still closed, and his head tilts toward your palm. Your heart is pounding, and you’re positive that he can hear it. He probably thinks you're an idiot. Here he is, injured, and you're practically swooning over him.

You should pull away. You should get up. You should make the distance between the two of you a little wider. But you're still standing in front of him, one hand on his face, the other resting on his shoulder. His are still holding onto your hips, and he hasn't moved them.

Hunter opens his eyes, and you’re struck by how dark they are, how they catch the light of the fire and glow amber. The shadows dance along his jawline, emphasizing the darkness of his tattoo. His lips are slightly parted, his gaze locked onto yours, and the tension is palpable. You don’t dare move. Not an inch. You wait for him to say something, anything.

He opens his mouth, and then closes it again. His brows furrow together, and his lips pull into a thin line.

The moment is shattered when the wind picks up outside, rattling the window.

You pull your hands away, and Hunter lets go of you so fast it’s as if you burned him. He clears his throat and stands, walking past you to check the window, and you watch him go. You take a deep breath and will yourself not to blush, turning away from him to pack up the rest of the med kit.

"I should, uh. I should probably get cleaned up,” Hunter says from across the room.

"Oh. Yeah, of course."

You busy yourself with the contents of your bag to avoid looking in his direction, and he disappears into the bathroom, the door shutting behind him.

You let out a shaky breath, and run a hand over your face. What the hell was that? You were being so ridiculous. Hunter was your friend, and nothing more. The fact that you were both alone together was making you act strangely, and you knew it.

He's probably uncomfortable. He's probably in there trying to figure out a way to politely tell you that you're acting weird and he's not interested in you like that. He's just being nice. That's all it is.

The thought makes you nauseous, and you try to push it out of your mind as you strip off your armor and pants, and then the suit you wear underneath. You're left in only your sports bra and compression shorts, and you shiver. It was freezing, and you weren't looking forward to sleeping without proper pajamas, or even a shirt.

There's not much you can do it about it now, though. It wasn't like you had packed your bag for an overnight stay. You were much more concerned about having the necessary supplies to keep the boys and Omega alive than having a change of clothes. You're kicking yourself for it now, though.

You rifle through your bag to find your toiletries and brush your teeth at the kitchen sink. You don't think about Hunter, or how good he smelled, or how warm his hands were, or the feeling of his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, or—

Stop it.

You splash some water onto your face and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart.

After a few minutes, you've managed to get yourself under control. You grab the blankets and pillow, and you spread them out over the bed. The sheets are worn and old but clean, and the blankets are thick, and you hope they'll be enough to keep the two of you warm. Hunter runs as hot as a furnace, anyway. You'll be fine.

You've finished laying out the blankets when the bathroom door opens. Hunter steps out, a cloud of steam following him, and he stops immediately, eyes wide. He's wearing the bottom half of his blacks, but his torso is bare, a towel slung over his shoulders. Water drips from his hair, and the few droplets the towel doesn’t catch run down his neck and chest, disappearing into the waistband of his blacks.

You force yourself to look away, and you're suddenly very interested in the blanket. You pick at a loose thread while your heart thuds loudly in your chest. He doesn't say anything. Neither do you. 

When you glance up, his eyes are still fixed on you, and then he blinks, seemingly snapping out of whatever thoughts were running through his head. Hunter gives you a small smile, the corner of his mouth lifting up, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks almost... sad. But the look disappears just as quickly as it came.

"Bathroom's free," he says, and there's a strain in his voice, as if he's trying to sound casual, and failing.

You nod. “Thanks.”

He walks over to the fire and adds a few logs, stoking the flames. They crackle and spit, and the smokey smell fills the cabin. You take the opportunity to duck into the bathroom as quick as possible and shut the door behind you. You lock it for good measure and lean against the wall, taking a few deep breaths.

Your eyes fall shut, and you try to center yourself. You're exhausted. This entire mission has been a disaster, both of you are barely dressed, and the two of you are sharing a bed. You just want to sleep, but your nerves are shot.

You strip out of your clothes and take a quick shower, letting the hot water relax your muscles. It does the job, but the feeling is short-lived, and the second you turn the water off, the stress returns.

You dry yourself off, and slip on the same shorts and bra you'd been wearing. There's not much else you can do, and you're too tired to care about it anymore. You're just going to have to suck it up and deal with it. It's one night. It's not the end of the world.

The mirror is fogged over, so you swipe your hand across the glass, revealing your reflection. You're not thrilled with the person looking back at you, and you scowl at your face. A few bruises and scrapes decorate your skin, and a thin, red line sits just below your ribs. You can't remember getting it, but it's nothing serious.

You comb through your wet hair, and after a few minutes, it's as good as it's going to get.

"Alright," you mutter, nodding to yourself with a sigh. "You can do this."

You open the door and walk into the bedroom. Hunter is sitting on the edge of the bed, his bandana in his hands. His hair is still drying, curling around his ears and the nape of his neck, and he hasn't put his shirt back on. He looks up at you and offers a weak smile, his fingers running along the faded material.

You return the smile, but it's not genuine. Your stomach is in knots, and your heart is racing, and the butterflies are back. You can't remember the last time you were this nervous.

You stand awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure what to do or say. You're both clearly not okay with this, and you hate it. You hate the tension that's settled over the two of you, the discomfort, the uncertainty. You should say something.

Hunter seems to come to the same conclusion, because he clears his throat and speaks up.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice low. He's studying you carefully, and you know he can hear the way your heartbeat has sped up at the question. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm fine," you answer a little too quickly. At his raised brow, you sigh. "I'm just... This is really weird, isn't it?”

"A bit," he admits, and the two of you chuckle awkwardly. He shifts his weight and looks down, his shoulders tense. “I can take the chair, if that would make you more comfortable."

You shake your head. "No, no, it's not that. It's just..." You trail off, unsure of what to say. You're embarrassed by the way your body is reacting, how it seems like the tiniest thing has you worked up, and Hunter doesn't need to know that.

"I can't ask you to do that. I'll take the chair."

Hunter stares at you, and his brows knit together. Your face flushes, and you look away, unable to meet his gaze.

"You’re not sleeping on the chair," he says firmly. He's using his sergeant voice, and his tone leaves no room for argument.

You frown. “Is that an order?”

He shakes his head, and his face falls. The stern look in his eyes softens, and he looks almost hurt. "Of course not. I just... I want to make sure you're comfortable.”

You're not sure how to respond. He's always been protective of you, just as he’s always been protective of everyone on the squad, and it makes sense that he'd be worried about your well-being. But this feels different.

He's still frowning, and you know he's upset with himself, as if he's done something wrong. It's a far cry from the way he'd teased you outside the cabin earlier, and his mood shift throws you for a loop. You don’t know what's happening, but the thought of upsetting him, or disappointing him, is not something you're willing to deal with.

You take a breath and force yourself to look him in the eye, and you take a guess. "Hunter, I'm not... I'm not scared of you, if that's what you're thinking."

The way his body sags at your words confirms your suspicions. "You’re not?"

"Of course not," you say, shaking your head. "I trust you. Completely. But... I'm still nervous, and I'm not sure why, and I'm sorry, I—"

"Hey," Hunter interrupts, and he stands. He closes the distance between the two of you in a single stride, and you have to tilt your head back to look up at him. His face is serious, and you hold your breath as he places his hands on your shoulders. "It's okay."

"It is?" you ask, surprised by the gentleness in his voice.

He nods, his expression softening. "Yeah."

"I don't want things to be awkward between us, but I'm... I'm having a hard time being normal,” you confess. Your mouth twists into a grimace, and you huff, shaking your head. "This is dumb. I'm sorry. It's just a stupid bed. We can share it, it's not a big deal.”

Hunter sighs, and the sound makes you flinch. You've disappointed him. Of course you have. He's probably mad at you for being so dramatic. For making a big deal out of nothing. Why couldn't you just suck it up and get over it?

"This is my fault," he says, and his words are so quiet, you're not sure you heard him correctly. You tilt your head, and he looks away, dropping his hands from your shoulders.

"What?"

"It's my fault."

He takes a step back, putting some distance between the two of you, and you want nothing more than to reach out and close the gap again. You stay where you are, though, watching him.

"Hunter, I already told you, it's not that I'm scared, I'm just—"

"Not the bed thing." He shifts awkwardly and avoids looking at you, instead staring out the window. "Well, not entirely.”

You don't understand. "Then what is it?"

He's silent for a few moments, and the only sound is the wind outside. The fire has started to die down, the embers glowing brightly in the dim room. You can see his hands clench and unclench at his sides, and his jaw is set, as if he's trying to work something out.

He's nervous. It's such a strange sight, and one you've never seen on him before. Hunter doesn't get nervous. Hunter doesn't avoid people. Hunter is cool and calm and collected.

You've never seen him like this before, and you can’t stop yourself from trying to comfort him. You take a step forward and place a hand on his arm, and he stills. His eyes dart over to your face, and you can feel his gaze linger on the spot where your hand is touching his bare skin.

"Hunter," you say, softly, trying not to spook him. "Please. Tell me."

He sighs. "It's a lot. Are you sure you want to know?"

"Of course I do," you answer, and you take a step closer to him. You're standing toe to toe, and your free hand finds his other arm, so you're holding onto him.

You have no idea what's gotten into you, and the boldness of your actions should have you running for the hills, but there's something about the way his dark eyes are looking at you that makes you feel safe. It's the same feeling you get when he's in charge of a mission, or when he's fighting at your side. He's protecting you, and you have no reason to doubt him.

"Whatever it is, I want to know."

Hunter sighs again, and his eyes drop from yours. He's hesitating, and you can't help but wonder what could be bothering him. He's been acting strange ever since the two of you crashed on this planet, but now that you think about it, it started long before that. Ever since Saleucami, maybe. Maybe even earlier.

But then his gaze finds yours again, and he looks so vulnerable, your thoughts scatter.

"It's not... I shouldn't. Not while we're stranded like this, it's not fair to you. I don't want you to feel like you have to deal with this on top of everything else. If it was a different time, a different place, then maybe, but—"

You squeeze his arms, and he stops talking. "Hunter."

His breath catches in his throat, and you can see the way his throat bobs as he swallows, the way his brows knit together. His eyes are dark, and there's a tension in the air, one that has been building since the moment you entered the cabin.

"Tell me," you say, and your words are barely a whisper.

"I should have told you a long time ago. But I never had the chance, and it's not fair of me to tell you now, when things are complicated, but..."

"But what?"

"But I care about you."

"Hunter," you start, your grip tightening on his arms, "of course I know you care about me, you've always looked out for me —"

"No, no," he says, shaking his head. "I mean, I do care about you. A lot. But that's not what I meant."

He pauses, and his hands slide up to your wrists, and he gently removes your hands from his arms. You think he's going to push you away, but he doesn't. He holds onto you, his fingers wrapping around your forearms.

"Hunter?"

"I've... I've had feelings for you. For a while."

Your mouth goes dry, and all the air rushes out of your lungs. He's holding onto you as if he's afraid you'll run away, and in all honesty, it's a very real possibility.

"What?"

"I'm sorry." He says it like a confession, his voice hoarse and pained, and it makes your heart ache.

You shake your head. "You don't need to be sorry. I'm just... I'm confused."

"I was trying to keep them in check, but it's hard when we're together, and I can't seem to stop myself,” he says. “I didn't want to make things awkward for you, so I was trying to keep some distance. It was working, but then this whole mess happened, and I'm not sure how to keep doing this."

"Oh," is all you manage to say, and it's barely a whisper.

Hunter drops your hands and turns away, running a hand over his face. You can tell he's embarrassed, and the sight breaks your heart. You've never seen him so upset before, and it's killing you.

"It's not a big deal, I'll get over it, but it's been... difficult."

You're at a loss for words, but you know what he's talking about. It's been hard on you, too. You've wanted to reach out to him, to close the distance, but you've always held yourself back.

"Hunter."

He doesn't turn, so you step closer, and he freezes. You don't touch him, though, not yet.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He doesn't answer at first, and you're not sure he's going to. He takes a shaky breath, and turns his head, but he doesn't look at you.

"I didn't think you felt the same way,” he says. “You’ve never shown any interest, and I didn't want to force something onto you that you didn't want. I just thought I'd make it easier for you. Make the rejection less painful."

Your mouth drops open. "I haven't — what?"

"But now," he continues, ignoring your interruption. "I'm not sure I can keep going. It's been hell, and I know it's selfish, and I'm sorry."

"Wait," you say, and he finally looks at you. You can see the hurt in his eyes, the pain that's been building for who knows how long, and it shatters you. "You've really thought I didn't want you? This whole time?"

"I... Yeah?"

"Hunter," you breathe.

"It's not important."

"Yes, it is."

"You don't need to lie to make me feel better,” he says. "I know how things are."

"Hunter, I've been acting weird because I was worried that you would be able to hear my heartbeat, or sense how nervous I am, or smell the way my body reacts when I'm near you," you say in a rush. "That's why I was freaking out."

He frowns. "Because you don't like me?"

"No, because I do!"

The two of you stare at each other, neither saying a word. The fire crackles loudly in the silence between you, and you can feel the heat rise to your cheeks. You can't believe you've said it out loud, but it feels right, and when Hunter's lips part in surprise, you know you can't take it back.

"You do?"

You stare back in utter disbelief. How could he not know?

"Of course I do," you say. "I thought you knew."

He shakes his head, and takes another step forward.

"I didn't... I thought... You were keeping your distance, and I just assumed..." Hunter trails off, staring at you in bewilderment. He takes a step closer, and you tilt your head back, looking up at him. His eyes are wide, and his gaze roams over your face, as if he's seeing you for the first time. "Really?"

Your lips twitch, and you’re unable to stop the laugh that escapes you. You’re not sure if it’s the absurdity of the situation, or the shock of learning that Hunter had feelings for you, too, or if it was simply the tension that had been building since the moment the two of you had walked into the cabin, but the next thing you know, you're doubled over, laughing harder than you had in months. Your sides hurt and your vision is blurry and you can't catch your breath, and a minute later, Hunter joins in.

"I'm sorry," you gasp, wiping a tear from your eye. "I'm not laughing at you, I promise. It's just... it's kind of funny, isn't it?"

"A bit," he says, his chest shaking with laughter. His shoulders relax, and his face is split into a grin, and he looks so happy, your heart feels like it's going to burst.

“We really need to work on our communication skills," you say, and Hunter snorts.

"I think we'll be alright,” he says with a shrug. “We'll figure it out."

"Yeah," you agree. "I think so, too."

He's still smiling, and it’s infectious. The butterflies in your stomach have come alive, and your body is tingling, but for once, you don't worry about how he might be reacting to your nerves. There's nothing to hide. Nothing to be nervous about. Hunter likes you, too. He's liked you this whole time, and the thought makes your head spin.

"We should probably go to bed," you say, and it comes out a little breathless. You're still staring at him, and he's staring back. His smile falls, but he doesn't look away.

"Probably," he agrees.

The two of you stand there, staring at each other.

"It's been a long day," he adds, and you nod.

"Yeah."

Hunter’s gaze flickers down to your lips, then back to your eyes. His chest rises and falls, and you can see the muscles shift under his skin. He licks his lips, and swallows, his throat bobbing.

"Right," you say and take a step closer to him.

"Yeah," Hunter echoes, his voice soft. His hands find your waist, and the feeling of his calloused palms against your skin makes you shiver.

"Do you... Do you want to share the bed?" you ask, your hands finding their way up to his chest. He's so close, you can feel the warmth emanating from him, and your body leans into him, your chest flush against his.

"If you're okay with it," he murmurs.

"I'm okay with it," you whisper, and the words hang between you, heavy with intent.

You're not sure who moves first, but one second, Hunter is holding onto you, his hands tightening around your waist, and the next, his lips are pressed against yours, and the kiss steals the breath from your lungs.

You're not surprised at the hunger in his movements, but it still makes your head spin. His mouth is hot and eager, and he kisses you as if his life depends on it. Your fingers curl around the hair at the nape of his neck, and his arms wrap around your back, pulling you closer. The hard planes of his body press against yours, and you can't help the whimper that leaves you when his hands slide down to the curve of your ass. He squeezes, and you pull away, gasping.

“Too much?” he asks, and the way his voice rasps in your ear makes a shudder run through you.

"Not enough," you breathe, and the way his hands grip your hips tightly tells you he feels the same.

He kisses you again, and the passion between you has ignited into a desperate, frantic heat. He bites down on your bottom lip, and when you groan, his tongue darts out, slipping past your lips. The way he explores your mouth, his tongue curling around yours, makes your knees weak, and you're grateful for the solid wall of his chest, keeping you upright.

Hunter tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and you melt into him. Your hands trail along his jawline, the rough stubble scratching your skin, and you sigh. He kisses you hungrily, and you try to give him as much as you can, hoping he knows how much you care about him, how much you've wanted this, and for how long.

You don't know how much time has passed, but the two of you are still kissing, and your legs are starting to grow tired. Hunter seems to sense this, and his hands slide down to your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin. He lifts you up, and you gasp, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"That's better," he murmurs into your neck, and your fingers tangle into his hair as he starts kissing along your jaw. His lips find your throat, and he sucks the skin into his mouth, biting down softly.

"Hunter," you whimper, your head falling back. He nips at your neck, and your body rolls against him. Your core brushes against the firmness of his abdomen, and you gasp.

"Shit," he breathes.

"Sorry," you say, your face burning with embarrassment.

"Don't apologize," he growls. His fingers dig into your thighs, and he sounds as if the sound alone was enough to unravel him. You shiver at the thought. "I just... Fuck. I wasn't expecting you to react like that."

"You're a little distracting," you admit, and the grin on his face makes your stomach flip.

"Am I?"

"Don't act like you don't know," you scold him, tugging his hair, and he groans. His eyes darken, and the noise that escapes him goes straight to your core. You swallow, trying to regain some composure, but it's impossible. It’s even harder when he turns and walks over to the bed, laying you down on the mattress, his body hovering above yours.

"I'm glad it's not just me," he says. His hair falls into his eyes, and you brush it aside, letting your hand rest on his cheek.

“Definitely not just you," you whisper, and the way his eyes light up is worth the confession.

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm."

He captures your lips again, and you hum again in appreciation. His hands move over the curves of your body, his fingers sliding over your hips, his palms gripping the flesh of your thighs. His touch is searing, and the heat of it makes your skin tingle.

Your own hands explore his chest, the muscle rippling under your touch, his skin soft and warm. You drag your nails down his abdomen, and his body rolls into yours, his hardness pressing into the apex of your thighs. Your back arches, and the groan that escapes him makes your blood boil. You need more, need him to touch you, need him to keep kissing you, and you try to tell him as much. But every time you try to speak, his lips are there, swallowing your words.

"You're so beautiful," he mumbles, his words slurring together, and it's not the most coherent thing you've ever heard, but the compliment makes your heart flutter, anyway. You kiss him harder, and he grunts in appreciation, his hands gripping your thighs.

You're not sure how much time passes, and the two of you are only spurred on by the noises the other makes. When you nip at his neck, he growls. When he squeezes your hips, you moan. He's driving you mad, and it's obvious that he's having the same problem.

You're panting, your chest rising and falling rapidly, and Hunter breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. He's breathing just as hard as you are, and he's shaking slightly, his eyes screwed shut. You place a hand on his shoulder, and his muscles tense under your touch.

"Are you okay?"

"Just give me a second," he says, and his voice is strained.

"What's wrong?"

He doesn't answer at first, and the silence stretches between the two of you.

"Hunter?"

"It's just... Fuck, I've been waiting for this for a while," he admits, and you can't stop the giggle that escapes you. He lifts his head and stares down at you, his eyes narrowing. "You're laughing?"

"I'm not laughing at you," you assure him, and he lets you pull his head back down. You kiss his forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks, his nose, and then his lips, and his mouth opens for you, his tongue swirling with yours. "It's just... I didn't know you wanted this."

"How could I not want this?" he asks. His mouth drops down to your neck, and his teeth scrape over the soft skin, his tongue licking a line up to your jaw. "You're incredible."

"You're incredible," you counter, and you can feel his grin against your neck.

"No, I'm serious," he says, and he stops kissing you. He lifts his head, and you frown. "You're beautiful, and smart, and kind, and you make me feel so many things. How could I not want this? I'd be stupid not to want you."

You swallow, and the emotions that wash over you threaten to overwhelm you. Hunter is looking at you with such affection, it's as if the feeling itself is enough to shatter him. He's never been very good with words, but his actions always spoke louder than any speech he could ever make.

"Hunter, I—"

"I'm sorry," he says. "I know I should have said something sooner. I'm not sure what I was thinking, honestly. I was worried about how it would affect the team. But now... Now that I've said it, and now that we're stranded here, and now that we've done this, and I've gotten a taste of you..."

"What do you mean?"

"I won't be able to go back."

Your stomach flutters.

"You want to be with me?" you ask. Your words are tentative, and your tone is careful, but there's a spark of hope, deep inside your heart, one that has been building ever since you first met Hunter. One that has been there for months, and maybe even longer.

"I do," he says. "And if we were anywhere else, I'd take you out for dinner or whatever the hell else you'd want. We could take our time, go as slow as you need, I don't care, but—“

"Hunter, yes. I want this."

He pauses.

"Yes?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

"You don't have to say that just because we're stranded. If you don't want to, it's okay."

"Hunter, please," you plead. "I've wanted this for so long, I can't... Please."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," you say, nodding vigorously. Your legs tighten around his waist, and his hands slide up to your ribs, his thumbs rubbing circles along the underside of your breasts. You bite your lip and look up at him. "I want this. I want you."

Hunter lets out a shaky breath. "Thank the maker."

You giggle, and his eyes fall to your mouth. He kisses you again, his tongue pushing past your lips, and you lose yourself in him.

Your fingers comb through his hair, and his body presses down on top of yours. It's different than before. The passion is still there, the hunger and desperation are still present, but there's a tenderness behind his actions, one that wasn't there earlier. His lips are soft and gentle, and his hands roam over your body with a reverence you weren't expecting. You can feel the love in his touch, the affection he has for you, and it's enough to make your chest tighten.

The two of you trade languid kisses, his lips dragging against yours. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist, and his weight is heavy on top of you, but it's a comfort. He's surrounding you, his body flush against yours, and your hearts are beating in sync. His length is pressed against you, his hips slowly rocking against your center, and each movement is sending a rush of heat through your core.

You can feel how wet you are, and you know Hunter can smell your arousal. It should be embarrassing, but when he growls against your mouth, you know that's not the case. You roll your hips into him, and his fingers dig into your sides. He's holding himself back, trying not to scare you, and the thought alone makes your heart swell.

"Hunter, please," you beg.

"What do you want?"

"Touch me."

His lips find your neck, and he presses a soft kiss there.

"How?"

"Just —" You groan when his hips roll into yours. "Anywhere. Everywhere."

He chuckles, and his breath is hot against your skin. "Where do you want me to touch you?"

You know what he's doing, and the realization makes you smile. He wants to hear you say it.

"You're mean," you mumble, and Hunter snorts. He bites the sensitive spot where your shoulder meets your neck, and your back arches, pushing your chest into his.

"I'm trying to be nice," he says, his voice rough, and he sucks the skin into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the area.

"Fuck, Hunter," you gasp, your nails scraping over his scalp. He groans, and his hands trail down your body, his fingers dipping under the waistband of your shorts.

"Tell me what you want," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your mind is racing, trying to come up with something, anything, but Hunter is relentless. His lips drag over your skin, and his tongue licks a stripe up your neck, and you can't think, not when his mouth is on you like this.

"Your hands," you breathe, and his fingers inch closer to your center. "Please, Hunter."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. Fuck, yes."

"You want me to use my hands, mesh’la?"

"Please."

He doesn't need to be told twice.

Hunter sits up, pulling his hips away from yours. You whine in protest, but he's not gone long, because his fingers are slipping under the waistband of your shorts, and he's sliding them off along with your underwear.

You raise your hips to help him, and once they're gone, his hands find your bra. It takes some effort from the both of you to slide it up over your head, and you're not sure where it ends up, but you can't bring yourself to care. Not when he’s looking at you like that.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his eyes roaming over your naked form. His voice is low, and the way he's staring at you makes a shudder run through you. You feel exposed, and you should feel self-conscious, but the awe in his expression makes it impossible. He's gazing at you with an openness and admiration you've never seen before, and it's making it difficult to breathe.

"You're wearing too much," you say, your tone soft.

"Can't argue with that," he replies, and he leans back. He stands, and you prop yourself up on your elbows, watching as he pulls his blacks down and off. You stare at him, unable to tear your eyes away.

He's beautiful. His broad shoulders are well defined, and his chest is solid and strong, the muscle rippling under his skin. There's a scattering of hair along his torso, and a trail that starts at his navel, and disappears beneath the waistband of his briefs. You’ve seen him without a shirt before, and it was hard enough then. But now that he's standing here, in front of you, you can't stop yourself from drinking in the sight of him. You bite your lip, your eyes trailing over his tattoo, and you hear Hunter groan.

"You keep doing that, and this is going to be over before it even starts."

"Sorry," you say, but you don't sound very apologetic.

"You're not."

"You're right, I'm not," you say, and the smile that lights up his face is so endearing, you have to force yourself to stay where you are and not reach out for him.

He steps closer to the bed, his eyes glued to your naked form. The way he's staring at you makes a fire burn in your stomach, and your breath catches in your throat when his hands slide over your thighs, his fingers digging into the flesh. His eyes find yours, and you can see the way his jaw is clenched, his teeth grinding together.

"Can I?"

"Yeah," you breathe, and the next thing you know, Hunter's hands are gripping the backs of your knees, and he's yanking your legs apart.

You yelp in surprise, and the noise dies in your throat, turning into a moan when he lowers his mouth to your dripping center.

"Oh, fuck."

"Kriff," Hunter mumbles, and the vibration of his voice against you makes your head fall back. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to catch your breath, but it's impossible, because Hunter's mouth is moving against you, his tongue dragging up your slit.

Your fingers find his hair, and he groans. His mouth is hot and eager, his movements hungry and desperate. He's licking and sucking and nipping at the most intimate parts of you, his tongue slipping past your folds. You can hear the noises he's making, the way his lips and tongue are smacking against you, the sounds he's pulling from your mouth, and it's driving you mad.

Hunter slides his hands under your ass, his palms grabbing handfuls of flesh. He pulls you into him, his face pressed into your center, and you let out a long, low moan, your fingers tugging at his hair.

"Up," he grunts, his mouth still working against you, and it takes you a second to realize what he's asking for. When you raise your hips, his hands move underneath you, and then he's lifting you up.

"What — oh, fuck."

His hands are gripping the tops of your thighs, and he's pulling you onto his face, his mouth opening and closing, his tongue darting out, pressing into your dripping cunt.

You let out a high pitched whine, your legs squeezing around his head, and you can feel him smile against you. He hums in approval, and the vibrations make you squirm. Your fingers twist into his hair, and you start rocking your hips, moving against his mouth.

"Fuck, Hunter."

He groans, and the noise sends a rush of heat through you. He sounds like he's enjoying this as much as you are, and the thought makes you shiver. His tongue swirls around your clit, and when his lips close over the swollen nub, his teeth scraping against the sensitive flesh, your head falls back. You're not sure what you're saying, the words coming out in a rush, a jumbled mess, but Hunter is eating it up.

"That's it," he breathes, and his tongue licks a stripe along your slit. He dips it into you, and a moan rips itself from your throat. He does it again, his tongue curling inside you, his lips closing around your folds, sucking the taste of you into his mouth.

"Please," you gasp, your voice hoarse. Your thighs are shaking, and your heart is racing, and you can't think, not when Hunter is between your legs like this. He's devouring you, his tongue moving against you frantically, as if the only thing that matters is getting you off.

"So good," he mumbles, and his words are slurred. "Taste so good."

"Hunter," you beg, tugging at his hair. The action makes him growl, and he doubles his efforts. He's sucking and licking and biting and kissing every inch of you, his tongue moving against you frantically. Each movement nudges his nose against your clit, and the stimulation has you falling apart.

"Hunter," you whimper. "I'm gonna—"

"Come on, sweetheart," he mumbles. His eyes are closed, and his cheeks are flushed, and his lips are red and slick with your arousal. He's a mess, and the sight makes your head spin. "Let go. I want to taste you."

He wraps his lips around your clit, his teeth scraping over the sensitive flesh, and you can't stop it. The fire in your belly explodes, and the tightness snaps, and your orgasm rushes through you, hot and white, a wave of heat that burns in your blood. Your thighs clamp down around Hunter's head, your toes curling, your back arching, and his name is ripped from your throat. You're dimly aware of your hands pulling his hair, and the noises that are leaving his mouth, but you can't focus on anything, not when he's making you feel this way.

Your muscles finally relax, and you're left trembling, your chest heaving. Hunter slows down, but his tongue doesn't stop, and the gentle strokes are too much for you to handle. You whine, trying to move away from him, but he keeps going, licking and sucking at the skin. You squirm, your body overly sensitive, and the movement is making you dizzy.

"Too much," you gasp, and finally, Hunter stops. He lifts his head, his hair falling into his eyes, and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He stares at you, his eyes glazed over, and his gaze is enough to make you shiver. He looks absolutely wrecked.

"You taste incredible," he murmurs, and the compliment makes your core throb. He licks his lips, and his eyes flutter closed. You watch him, unable to look away.

"C'mere," you say, and he nods, crawling up the bed. His chest is flushed, and his abs flex with each movement, the muscle rippling. There's a sheen of sweat covering his skin, and his breathing is shallow, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

He lays on top of you, his body heavy, and the weight is a comfort. Your legs wrap around his waist, and his face buries itself into your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

"You okay?" he asks, his words slurring together, and his arms wrap around your back. You nod, and a moment later, you feel him kiss your neck.

"Never been better," you sigh, your head falling back. He smiles against your skin, and his lips find your shoulder, the soft skin of your collarbone, and then the sensitive spot on your neck.

"That was... Wow," you mumble.

"Good wow, or bad wow?" he asks, his tone playful, and his voice is rough.

"Good wow. Really good wow."

Hunter chuckles, and the sound sends a thrill through you. He pulls back and grins at you, his teeth flashing in the darkness. “I aim to please."

"Mission accomplished," you murmur, and you press your lips to his. He responds eagerly, his mouth moving against yours, his tongue licking into you. You can taste yourself on him, and the thought makes you shiver. He kisses you deeply, his tongue moving slowly, as if he's savoring the taste of you.

"You're incredible," he breathes.

"I could say the same about you," you say, your hand trailing along his jawline. "I think you deserve a commendation for that performance. Maybe a medal, or something."

Hunter laughs, and his head dips back down to your neck. He kisses the skin softly, his lips barely brushing against you, and the action makes a shudder run through you. You're still trying to catch your breath, and your heart is beating wildly in your chest. You can't remember the last time you've felt like this, but it's definitely not a feeling you're ready to give up.

"Let me take care of you," you whisper, and his movements slow.

"I'm okay."

"I want to."

"Sweetheart, it's fine. Don't worry about it."

"Hunter."

"Really, it's okay," he insists.

"Do you not want me to touch you?" you ask, and the thought makes your stomach clench.

"It's not that," he says.

"Then what is it?"

He doesn't answer, and you tilt his head up, forcing him to look at you. His face is still flushed, and the longer you look at him, the more his cheeks turn pink.

"I, uh, finished. When you came," he says, and his voice is almost a whisper.

Your mouth drops open.

"Oh," you say, and he's looking anywhere but at you. You can feel his cock twitch against your leg, and his shoulders are tense, and you realize that the reason he's so nervous is because he's embarrassed.

"Hunter," you say, and he doesn't look at you.

"I'm sorry, I just — I couldn't help it. You were... Kriff, you're beautiful, and the sounds you were making, and the way you were grinding against my mouth, and when you came, I could smell you, and it was too much."

You bite back a smile.

"That's so hot," you whisper, and the way his body shudders against yours tells you he heard you.

"It is?"

"Of course," you say. You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, and he practically melts against you. You can't stop yourself from smiling, and you try to hide it by kissing his cheek. This whole time, you'd been so focused on your own pleasure, and the fact that he was enjoying it, too, was enough to make you giddy. "That's incredibly hot."

"Really?"

"Really," you confirm. "Are you kidding? It's not every day someone tells me they got off on going down on me. I should probably write it down. Maybe take a holo, for posterity's sake."

Hunter snorts, and his head drops to your shoulder. He nuzzles the soft skin, his stubble tickling your neck, and he sighs. "I can't believe you."

"I can't believe you."

He chuckles, and his hips roll against yours. He's still hard, and when you rock into him, a groan escapes him. You're not sure if he's realized he's doing it, or if he's even aware of the fact that he's pressing his cock against you, his hips moving slowly, but he's dragging his length along your center, and the feeling of it is making your mind foggy.

"You still feel really good," you murmur, and the compliment makes him shiver. His fingers dig into your hips, his nails digging into the soft skin, and his lips find the spot on your neck where his scent is the strongest. He kisses the area, his mouth open, his tongue hot against you, and when he bites down, your legs squeeze around his waist.

"Hunter," you breathe, and he bites down harder. Your body arches into his, and you can feel his lips spread into a smile against your neck.

"Still so responsive," he murmurs, and his voice rumbles in your ear. You can't stop the whimper that leaves you, and your head falls back, your fingers sliding through his hair.

"Only for you," you tell him, and his hands move to your ass. He pulls your hips into his, his grip tight, and the action causes his clothed length to drag along your dripping center.

"Kriff," Hunter mutters, and his fingers curl into the soft flesh. He rocks his hips into yours, and a long, low moan slips past your lips. "Fuck, you're so wet."

"Because of you," you mumble.

His mouth finds your jaw, and he peppers kisses along the soft skin, his hips never stopping their movements. Each roll has the tip of his length pressing into your clit, and each touch makes a small whine escape your lips. You can feel his teeth scraping along your jaw, and then his mouth is covering yours, his tongue licking into you, his teeth catching your bottom lip. He bites down, and a moan tumbles from your throat.

"Fuck, I want you," he mumbles against your mouth, his voice ragged. He's panting, his breathing shallow, and he sounds just as desperate as you feel.

"You can have me," you tell him, and the words seem to snap the last bit of his restraint.

Hunter's fingers dig into your hips, his grip almost bruising, and his lips crash into yours, his mouth open and eager. You kiss him back just as hard, and the two of you are frantic, as if the other one will disappear if you stop.

You reach down, your hands trailing along his torso. You trace the lines of his abs, and his muscles clench under your touch. You trail lower, your fingers dipping into the V of his pelvis, and then your hand is slipping under the waistband of his briefs.

"Fuck," he groans when you wrap your hand around his length. His hips jerk, and his mouth opens, and his breath comes out in a hiss. "Oh, kriff."

"Is this okay?"

"Yeah, it's — yes, fuck," he chokes, and you can't help but smile and tighten your hand. He's slick and warm, and he's leaking all over you. It's hard to gauge his size with only your hand, but you've been feeling him for a while now, and judging by the length and the girth, you're confident in saying he's well endowed. Your body clenches at the thought.

"You're so hard," you murmur, and the way his cock pulses in your palm tells you he likes hearing that.

"You make it difficult not to be," he grunts, his hips bucking, and the movement pushes his length further into your hand. You swipe your thumb over his tip, and his whole body twitches, a low whine escaping him.

"Can I suck your cock?" you ask, and Hunter groans, his head tipping back. His hips snap into your hand, his cock sliding through your fist, and he looks as if he's in pain. You don't think he's even listening to you. "Hunter, can I?"

"Yes, yeah, please," he gasps, his voice cracking.

You bite your lip to keep yourself from grinning, and you push at his chest, trying to get him to roll over. He doesn't seem to realize what you're doing, and it takes a few tries before he's finally getting the hint. He flops onto his back, his head resting on the pillow, and he looks up at you, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed.

"Mesh'la," he breathes, and you lean forward, capturing his lips in a quick, searing kiss. You break away before he can respond, and you slide down the bed, hooking your fingers into his briefs and pulling them off. He lifts his hips to help you, and once his cock is free, he lets out a sigh.

You look at him, and your breath catches in your throat.

His body is beautiful, his tan skin glowing in the low light, and his length is thick and heavy, resting against his hip. It's the most erotic thing you've ever seen, and you can't tear your eyes away from him. He's hard and twitching, and the sight is enough to make your mouth water.

You crawl between his legs, and his breath hitches when your hand wraps around his length. You can see him swallowing, and his hands are gripping the sheets. He's watching you, his eyes glazed over and dark, and he's holding his breath, his chest unmoving.

"Breathe," you murmur, and he sucks in a breath. It's shaky, and the sound is loud in the silence of the room, but he's listening. You give him a reassuring smile, and his lips quirk.

"I've been thinking about this for a long time," you admit, and his eyes widen.

"Really?"

"Mmhmm. Is that weird?"

"No," he says, and his voice is strained. "Not weird. I've been thinking about it, too."

You bite your lip, and you stroke his length, your hand twisting around the shaft. A bead of precum leaks from his tip, and Hunter groans, his hips rising off the bed. Your tongue darts out to lick at the fluid, and he makes a strangled noise before his hand finds the back of your head. His fingers thread through your hair, and he pulls you up.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just... I have an idea."

"Yeah?"

"Do you trust me?"

You don't hesitate. "Yes."

"Okay," he says. "Turn around."

"Turn around?"

"Yeah. So you're facing the other way. And then you can sit on my face."

Your jaw drops, and a rush of heat spreads through your body. You know Hunter can see it on you, and his grin is wolfish.

"You did say you wanted to suck my cock," he points out. "I'm just helping."

You let out a laugh, and you can feel your cheeks heating. You nod, and the next thing you know, you're being picked up by the hips and spun around. You let out a yelp, surprised by his strength, but you let him position you as he sees fit. You're on your hands and knees above him, and you can feel his fingers digging into your hips.

"Comfortable?" he asks, and you can feel him breathing. His voice is coming from right behind you, and you nod.

"Yeah."

He places his hands on your hips and guides you down until you're hovering above his mouth. Your breathing is ragged and your pulse is racing, and you can't bring yourself to look down at him. The anticipation is overwhelming, and it's taking all of your self control not to squirm.

Hunter doesn't give you much time to adjust, and the next thing you know, his mouth is on you. You moan, and your head drops, your forehead resting on his pelvis. Your tongue drags over the base of his length, and you hear him groan.

You're not sure how you're going to focus on him, because Hunter's tongue is moving against you, his hands guiding your hips, pulling you down onto his mouth. You can feel his teeth and his lips and his tongue, and his stubble is scratching at the sensitive skin, and it's driving you crazy.

You drag your tongue along his length, and he moans against you. It's enough to encourage you, and you open your mouth, wrapping your lips around his tip. He lets out a shaky sigh, his hips lifting slightly, and the taste of him fills your mouth. You suck him in, taking him as far as you can, and when he hits the back of your throat, a long, low groan echoes through the room.

"Fuck," he breathes.

You can feel his hips shaking, and you know it's taking every ounce of his willpower not to thrust into your mouth. Instead, he pushes his tongue into you, and his thumbs are rubbing circles into your hips.

It takes some work, but the two of you manage to establish a rhythm. He licks and sucks and nips at you while you bob your head up and down his shaft, taking him as far into your mouth as possible. What you can't reach with your mouth, you wrap your hand around, twisting and pumping him. Each movement of your hand is met with a growl from below, and each swipe of his tongue has you moaning around his cock.

"F-fuck, Hunter," you mumble, his tip hitting the back of your throat, and you swallow around him. The action makes him twitch, and a moan tumbles from his mouth, vibrating against your cunt.

"You're incredible," he groans. "You take me so well."

You whine, and you're not sure how much longer you can do this. You're already sensitive from the first round, and Hunter is relentless. His mouth and his tongue are everywhere, and the stimulation is making your mind foggy.

"So good," he murmurs, and his hand slides down, his fingers dipping inside you. You can't hold back the moan that spills from you, and the vibrations make Hunter hiss. He adds a second finger, curling and twisting them, his pace faster and more frantic. His mouth closes over your clit, and his tongue swirls around the swollen bud, his lips sucking it into his mouth.

You moan, and his hips buck. The sudden movement makes him slide further down your throat, and you gag, tears filling your eyes.

"Fuck," he groans. "Fuck, sweetheart, I'm sorry."

"M'fine," you slur, your mouth still around his cock, and you suck him harder, your tongue moving over his shaft. Hunter's fingers dig into your hips, his nails biting into the flesh, and his teeth are scraping along your cunt, his tongue moving in time with the movements of his hand.

You can feel the tightness building in your stomach, the familiar feeling of the coil snapping, and you're close, so close. Hunter can sense it, too, because his pace is relentless. He's working you furiously, his tongue moving at a feverish pace, and the way he's licking and sucking at you is enough to make you scream.

You let his cock fall from your mouth, and you press your face into his pelvis, his length rubbing against your cheek.

"Hunter, I'm gonna—"

"Let go, sweetheart," he rasps. "Let go. Come on my face."

The words alone are enough to push you over the edge, and a moment later, you're seeing stars. You let out a sob as your orgasm consumes you, and your legs are trembling, your muscles tightening. A rush of heat washes over you, and Hunter pulls his fingers away to wrap his arm around your waist, holding you steady as you come apart.

He doesn't stop, his tongue moving furiously against you, his mouth open and eager. Through the tears blurring your eyes, you see his cock pulsing, the tip red and swollen, and his thighs are shaking. You know he's close, and you want him to finish with you, so you take his length back into your mouth, sucking and licking him.

Hunter groans, and his tongue works frantically, his hips lifting off the bed. His grip on your waist is bruising, and he's moaning against you, his tongue lapping at your folds, and then he's coming undone, his cock pulsing and spurting hot and sticky into your mouth.

You swallow, and the act alone is enough to send another shudder through him. He's panting against you, his hips jerking, and his breathing is harsh, his chest heaving.

"Kriff," he mutters, his lips dragging against the soft skin of your thighs. "That was — wow."

You smile, and you place a kiss on the head of his length, licking the stray droplet of cum off his slit. Hunter whimpers, his hips lifting, and the sound is so soft and quiet, you can barely hear it.

"Fuck," he groans, and he's still twitching. You give him one last, long lick, and he hisses, his hands squeezing your hips. You sit up and turn around, straddling his hips, and when you see his face, a laugh bubbles up in your chest.

"You look like a mess," you say, and his eyes widen.

"I've just had the life sucked out of me. Give me a break."

"That was so good," you say, and you bend down to kiss him. His lips part, and his tongue finds yours, licking into you. He moans at the taste of himself on your lips, and his hands move to the small of your back. The two of you stay like that for a while, trading lazy kisses and soft touches, enjoying each other's presence. Eventually, Hunter breaks away, his nose brushing against yours.

"We should get some sleep," he says, and he sounds reluctant. "It's been a long day, and the others could be back anytime."

"Oh," you say, and your heart sinks. You'd forgotten the others would be returning in the morning, and that meant the night would be over. Hunter is right; the two of you needed rest. You weren't ready for it to end, though.

"We can talk about it in the morning," he says, his tone gentle, and his hand moves to stroke your hair.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay," you say.

Hunter turns and places you on the bed, and you lie back and watch as he stands and pads naked first to your bag, then the bathroom. When he comes back, he's got a damp cloth, and he kneels on the bed next to you. You expect him to hand it to you so you can clean yourself up, but instead, he uses it to gently wipe you down. The action is so tender and intimate, it makes your heart ache.

"There," he says, a few moments later. He tosses the cloth towards the bathroom, and then he's back, pulling the covers over the both of you.

He turns on his side and pulls you into him, and you let him. You rest your head on his chest, and his arms wrap around your waist. He lets out a sigh, and his nose buries itself in your hair.

"This is nice," you mumble.

"Yeah, it is," Hunter agrees, and the two of you lapse into silence. You can feel your eyes growing heavy, and the steady rise and fall of his chest is comforting. His hand is moving up and down your spine, his fingers tracing patterns along the soft skin, and each touch is lulling you to sleep.

You're drifting, the sounds of the fire and Hunter's breathing fading away, when the sound of your datapad beeping brings you back. You roll over and grab it from the bedside table, squinting at the display.

"It's Tech," you say, and Hunter grunts, his eyes fluttering open. 

I can't reach Hunter. Are you two okay?

You type a quick reply. We're fine. Just fell asleep.

I need to talk to him. Please wake him up.

"He needs to talk to you," you say, and you can hear Hunter grumbling. He opens one eye, and his lip curls.

"Can't it wait?"

"Apparently not," you say, and Hunter groans.

"Fine," he says, and he snatches the datapad from your hand, his fingers flying across the keypad. A moment later, his mouth quirks up into a grin, and he holds out the screen so you can read the message.

The repairs to the engine are taking longer than I anticipated, Tech had written. I estimate we will be ready to leave in about 18 hours. I apologize for the inconvenience. Will try to keep you apprised of the situation.

Underneath it was Hunter's message. Take all the time you need. We're not going anywhere.

Your mouth drops open, and Hunter's smile is growing wider. You read the message again and grin. 

"We have 18 hours?" you ask, and you're unable to contain the excitement in your voice.

Hunter nods and sets the datapad back on the nightstand. You can't see his face clearly in the dark, but you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks. "Guess so."

You let out a giggle and throw yourself at him, pushing him onto his back and straddling him. He lets out a huff of surprise, but his hands come to rest on your hips, and he squeezes them gently.

"Well then. Let's not waste them."

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★ sakusa kiyoomi is probably the most organized person you've ever met. so clean, so tidy.

the two of you have been dating for a while, and you could never expect that he would be so messy eating you out. the clean and fresh sheets you changed that morning are stained with your fluids and his face is deep buried between your thighs. he is holding them firmly as his tongue lick and suck your clit. is not sweet, is not tender, is rough and sloppy. omi spits on your cunt before he puts two fingers inside you, thrusting you with his long, slender digits. you feel like heaven, your hand messing his usual perfect curls as he keeps devouring your swollen clit and stretching you with his fingers. you're the lucky one, the only one who can say sakusa kiyoomi is messy, nasty, dirty. he keeps eating you out like a starving man, like he's been in a dessert during weeks and he just found water. he mumbles against your core how much he loves his pretty girl as your walls squeeze him and you finally cum. of course, he doesn't waste anything. he lifts his face, his mouth and jaw wet with your fluids, as he kisses you softly.

"you taste so good, gorgeous. I don't want to stop never, give me another one, pretty girl. just one more. I know you can take it."

if you liked it please let me know!! reblogs are very appreciated ★ MASTERLIST.

Feral thought of the evening.

There must be something in the air because this came out of nowhere. Written purely on my phone so not super proofread…I’ll do that on the computer sometime this weekend.

Dropping this and running 🏃🏻‍♀️‍➡️

Female Reader | tied up, spitting, spanking, squirting

You had worn the little cotton shorts on purpose. Knew that they drove him right up the wall watching how the fabric bunched over your plush thighs and barely covered your ass. How the v between your legs left little to the imagination as the fabric dug into your delicate skin.

So when he gets you bent over the bed after a few hours of teasing, you smirk to yourself as he plucks at them. How he tugs the bunched cotton free from where it had been trapped to rub his fingers along the inside of the gusset. Which you know is wet and judging by the appreciative hum he has figured that out as well.

"Did you wear these for me?" He questions as a hand smooths over the globe of your ass to grab at the hem. "Or to tease me?" He asks, giving you a smart slap that makes your blood sing.

"Both," you answer as you stretch like a cat over the cool sheets, letting your arms splay in front of you as you rest your cheek on the bed. "I know you can't resist them."

"Mmm, I think you also like when the other guys watch you," he taunts as he curls his fingers over the elastic waist and tugs them barely down your backside. "Like the attention," his tone shifts slightly, dropping an octave as he tugs a little more. "Like imagining what they must be thinking about you."

You whine a bit and wiggle wanting him to move faster.

"Oh, you want a reward for how you behaved today?" Alex asks as he bends over your back, planting one of his fists on the bed beside you to hold his weight. "Do you think you deserve that? For making Soap squirm in his seat when you bent so far over to pick up that napkin for him?" He smirks as you roll your head over to glance up at him, still splayed out in a submissive posture that you knew he craved.

"I do," you barely whisper, a smile tugging at your lips. "Because you were watching me just as closely. Watching me as I carefully leaned across the Captain's lap to get a drink for you." He enjoyed the game. Enjoyed watching men lust for you but restrain themselves because they knew that he'd make them disappear for good if they touched something of his without permission. All a dance, all a taunt.

He pulls your shorts down further, exposing your thoroughly soaked cunt to the air. The satisfied sigh that leaves your lips is short-lived as he yanks your shorts taut, pulling the center of them into his fist. The thin line of fabric digs into your thighs as he tugs, and you feel him twist the shorts, forcing your legs together tight.

The shorts you had used to get his attention, to start this game, were going to be your punishment.

You shift a bit, but your legs are locked. Nowhere to go as he holds fast to the balled-up cotton that has turned into biting vices on your thighs. You dart your eyes up to him, a hint of apprehension in your expression and he just smirks at you. When he leans back off his supporting arm, he runs a taunting finger down your cheek before disappearing from your view.

"I think I'll keep you like this for a bit," he remarks as he appraises you, the fingers of his free hand sliding just outside your folds, making you squirm. "Keep still," he warns as he twists the fabric a fraction of an inch tighter so it stings. "You wanted me to look at you, so let me look at you."

He digs his nails into the back of your legs, scratching enough that goosebumps flash across your skin. You can feel your skin heating under his scrutinizing gaze and ache to just turn back and see him, but you know better than to disobey.

"Arch higher," Alex orders as he pushes a palm against your lower back, making your upper body sink even further into the bed.

You do as he orders and grab at the edge of the bed for support when you feel it. He had been so quiet about it that your body instantly jerks at the wet slide, but he grasps your hip to keep you from going far. From wasting it.

You can feel the spit slide from your rim to your entrance and glide down toward your clit before being cut off with how tight your thighs are clamped together. The groan of need escapes you as you bite your lip, doing your best to pry open your legs to let the wad soothe the burning pressure in the apex of your thighs.

"Something wrong?" Alex asks as he trails a finger through the spit that has glided down the seam of your legs. He slowly drags it up, and you tense, waiting before he finally rubs the slickness against your folds. You sigh with relief as he smooths his fingers over you, spreading you apart as he does.

"Please," you whine as you try to push back against his taunting fingers. He's barely sunk them into you and as he feels you push he pulls away. You are doing this on his terms.

"Stay still," he orders again, and you swallow the agitated huff, knowing he'll just prolong it even more. And, as if he suspects you'll protest, he waits to move. When you stay silent, he chuckles a bit, "good girl."

The praise sings along your skin, and you grin to yourself before a filthy moan escapes your lips. Without warning, he pushes two fingers into you, as far as they can go, and you clamp hard around the welcomed invasion.

The stretch burns, but you don't fight it. Instead, you huff as he begins to work you open properly, fingers scissoring and twisting until slick noises and your pants fill the room.

Alex doesn't let you help him at all, hand still holding tight to the shorts to stop you from opening your legs to make it easier. To keep you from releasing that building pressure on the bundle of nerves so the blood pounds almost painfully.

“Keep going,” you beg, forehead on the sheets now as you try to arch more. There’s no room for you to go anywhere; your body contorted to its max. He doesn’t relent, doesn’t ease up as he fucks you with three fingers now, making you slick and pliant.

When you come, it’s loud and shuddering, your body tensing and trying to coil on itself. He continues to push you through it. As you come down, back unlocking to a more relaxed position, he draws his fingers away. But you aren’t empty for long.

He quickly notches at your entrance, hand tugging your thighs back to him with your shorts. You hiss at the bite of cloth on your already sensitive skin, sure that you’ve got some type of fabric burn and will certainly bruise. He doesn’t acknowledge your quiet protest as he slides himself in.

“Still fucking tight,” he groans as he bottoms out.

He’s not wrong. With the way he has your legs locked, he feels that much bigger, and you feel that much fuller. You can feel every ridge of him as he rocks his hips back before snapping forward again, punching the air out of your lungs.

Alex isn’t gentle. Each snap of his hips makes you gasp, and you fight to keep your body in the same spot to meet him. His thighs slap yours sending a vibration to your still clenched clit. You need to release the pressure, need to ease that ache that’s starting to consume you.

“Please,” you whine, voice a pathetic lilt as you reach a hand back to pry at your shorts. You scramble one-handed at them, trying to pull them off your skin, out of his grasp. “Please I need,” you try and Alex slows his movements to watch you fumble about.

“What do you need?” He coos as you try to look up at him, eyes rolling up as he snaps forward into you again. “Use your words,” he taunts as he grinds into you.

“The pressure, I feel like,” you start, but he knows. He knows exactly what is happening because he can tell how your body is squeezing him.

In an instant, he lets go of your shorts, the fabric loosening its biting grip on your legs. You can feel the blood rush to your numbing feet, and you open your legs to let some of that building tension in your clit ease.

But Alex’s hand is there. He’s coaxing that tension to explode instead of dissipating. As he pushes into you just a bit deeper, now that your legs are opened wider for him, you come undone.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Alex says as you push up on both hands to try to regain some semblance of control. Your body feels like it never has before and has done something you’ve never experienced.

“Fuck you’ve needed to come, haven’t you?” He asks as his fingers rub hard circles against your clit, so soaked you’re afraid you didn’t just come. “So wet for me,” he praises as he slides his fingers to smear the slick over your lower belly and hip before he grabs you again to continue to fuck you.

You lean back into him as he sets a ferocious pace into you, so slick and soft for him now there is zero resistance. You keen as you feel him tighten and twitch inside of you, and when he growls his release, you cry out as he fills you.

Alex snaps his hips a few more times before he stops moving and lets you fall forward into the bed spent. You feel as if your whole body is twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm. But those twitches are nothing compared to the overstimulated flinch you body makes as Alex smoothes his hand over your ass and between your legs to play with the mix of his spend and yours.

“I’m going to have to tie up your legs more often if it’s going to get you to squirt all over me like that,” Alex says with a small laugh as he gently spreads your legs more to get a look at the mess you both made.

bed chem ━━━ iwaizumi hajime

10. how to earn someone’s trust

cw. kys jokes

masterlist. previous | next

summary. when an unfortunate incident kicks you out of your university and risks your reputation as one of the top figures skater in the country, you find your place in sendai. but when you discover they only have one rink, designated to their a-league hockey team, your chance at a comeback slips from your grasp. your only in is with the captain of the hockey team. the issue with that? he couldn’t care less who you are.

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“NEEDIN’ A RIDE REAL, REAL BAD!!”

HAIKYUU + THIGH RIDING ᯓ⭑ ft. bokuto koutarou, daichi sawamura, kuroo tetsurou, miya atsumu, sakusa kiyoomi, & ushijima wakatoshi x f!reader

contains : explicit smut (18+), thigh riding / dry humping, phone call (keep quiet n ride!), risky sex / very mild: cw exhibitionism, squirting, teasing, praise, kissing <3, hair pulling (you to them), orgasm denial, usage of pet names — 2.9K WC

note : yayya my first haikyuu post on here ! this is my response to this thirst here ૮꒰˶˃ ^ ˂̵˵꒱ა hope u all have fun reading this <3

KUROO TETSUROU.

“Whoa whoa,” Kuroo coos through a breathy chuckle, big hand wrapping around your hip to hold you still against his thigh. “Easy now, pretty thing. Let’s pause for a second, okay?”

The sound of your protests and whines almost make him cave right off the bat. “…Tetsu..” you sulk, corners of your lips curling into a sad pout even when he gives you an apologetic smile before he’s jutting his thumb to gesture at his phone, the irritating melody of his ringtone repeating itself as the screen lights up, “Incoming call from: Kenma!” displayed across the top.

“Sorryy,” he huffs. “Can’t. This one’s important.”

He’s giving you a reassuring squeeze around your hip, a silent reminder that he’ll give you everything you need in a few minutes, but you’re not having any of that. Your arms come to stubbornly wrap around his neck before he can pick up the call, sugar sweet voice already making pleas only a second later.

On any other given day, you would have let him take the call with only an irritated huff— just not today. Not with the way you can already feel your orgasm running away from you. “P-please, please Tetsu,” you sob, “I was so close. Can’t wait any longer.. please?”

His eyes are widening a bit at the unfamiliar desperation in your voice, grunt slipping out when his cock reacts to it too, twitching and slapping against his stomach— a reoccurring habit that seems to only occur whenever you give him that needy little look of yours.

“Awww,” he whispers, and you barely catch the strain in his voice. “Well I’m sorry for ruining your moment, angel.”

You’re practically purring as soon as you feel his hand come to lightly cup your jaw, immediately melting into his touch as he smiles in response. “Ah— fine,” Kuroo caves as soon as he sees your hands coming to cutely hold his wrist in place. “Guess i can’t stop you if you need it so bad. But listen here..”

His thumb moves from your jaw, digit pressing into your bottom lip to angle your face at him. The look you’re giving him is just to die for, pouty lips soft against his thumb and you’re peering up at him through those pleady eyes— as if there was even a single chance that Kuroo would ever deny his pretty girl of an orgasm in the first place.

“Nothing crazy. Deal? Kenma hears and..” he presses a little harder into your lip, watching the way your tongue comes to swipe at the invasive finger. “Me and you? Are never hearing the end of it.”

You’re swiftly nodding as soon as the words register, hands coming to rest on the muscles of his shoulders as you resume your movement the next second, gasping at the way your clit catches against his thigh. “Kenma?” You hear him hum, tucking his phone between his cheek and shoulder— quick and casual.

Maybe too casual.

“Mmm,” his eyes flicker back towards you when you take in a sharp inhale. “So it’s about that. You sure you don’t wanna meet up to go over it?”

A loud gasp slips out from you when he abruptly grabs you by your waist, and your hands slam over your mouth, Kuroo tensing beneath you. “…Hm? Yeah, I’m listening.” He chuckles, regaining his composure in an instant as he starts to rock you back and forth against his leg— and fast.

The roughness has your face contorting, nails digging deep into his shoulders as you try and resist the strong hands guiding you back and forth— try and slow him down a bit, delay your oncoming orgasm by even second if anything at all. You hadn’t expected it to come back so fast, and.. you both knew good and well that you weren’t gonna be able to stay quiet.

You give him a look, something resembling your best attempt at a glare, but he’s ignoring it— casually chatting with kenma about something you can’t quite catch. You’re only left to bite your lip, eyebrows deeply furrowed as you desperately fight the knot tightening inside your belly, thighs clamping against his own as he flexes his quad straight into you.

“Oh,” Kuroo says, hand leaving your waist to pick up his phone again, finger hovering over the ‘mute’ button, and your body is falling limp onto his chest, hands balancing yourself on him as you peer up at him through tired eyes and a heavy pant. “Actually..”

“..Looks like I got a bit of a problem to take care of here first.” He smiles. “So give me a minute, yeah?”

MIYA ATSUMU.

“Gonna have to keep that pretty voice of yours down.” Atsumu’s lips brush against the shell of your ear, big hands tight around your hips as he drags you up and down his thigh. “Or ‘Samu’s gonna hear ya.”

Your hips stutter against his leg, drawing a sharp gasp from you- and he curses under his breath. Osamu would be back any second now, and yet he’s got you seated on him, your lounge shorts pulled to the side so he can draw one quick orgasm out of you before the three of you head out for dinner.

Because you— Atsumu’s impatient lil bunny, or so he calls you, just couldn’t wait until after the dinner to get a quick treat.

“‘M trying.” You whisper, voice breathless and whiny, and you tighten your embrace around his middle, burying your face deep into the fabric of his sweater. “Feels ‘s good… so good— need more..”

“I know, I know— later, yeah?” He sounds unsteady from how roughly he’s moving you against him, muscles of his thigh flexing and hardening underneath you. “Gonna give it to ya real good. stuff ya nice and full. How’s that sound, dirty girl?”

You want that.

You know exactly how easy it’d be for him to get you gushing underneath his cock if it weren’t for your insistence on him not cumming. And well.. it kind of made sense to him— considering how your last creampie went. His mind thinks back to how you looked with his cum dribbling down your thighs as you nervously clamped them together, and how no one seemed to noticed the juices dripping into a neat little puddle beneath you.

It’d be so easy— he’s got you all mapped out and knows you like the back of his hand. He could just push those pretty thighs of yours up to your face, hold them nice and still as he pummels the deep spot inside you that has you chanting his name over and over, and your cunt would be gushing right after that.

“‘Tsumu.” You choke out, tightly latching onto him like a koala, “‘M gonna cum..!”

“You are, aren’t ya? I can tell.” He groans, and his thigh bounces up into you, mumbling a curse under his breath when you squeal at the roughness. “Show me that pretty face when you’re lettin’ go.”

A couple more rolls of your hips and you’re gasping and stuttering against him, Atsumu pulling you just right against his thigh as your eyes slam shut, knot inside you violently snapping in an instant as you tremble underneath him, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.

“That’s my fuckin’ girl.” His voice comes out deep and breathy, hands tightening their grip on you. “Ride it all out f’ me, rela- oh s-shit.”

Your eyes widen as soon as the sound of footsteps registers in your mind, and your head swiftly turns back to see that Atsumu’s already pulling your shorts back over your cunt, your juices immediately soaking through the fabric as he holds you flush against his chest, big hand cradling the back of your head.

“‘Tsumu..!” You whisper, but he’s shushing you with gentle strokes along the back of your head.

“What, ‘Samu?” he calls out, his mind putting together a silent prayer that his twin was not about to open the door.

His prayers go unanswered.

“You two ready yet?” Osamu’s asking as soon as he flings open the door, the knob accidentally slipping through his grasp, and your door crashes against your wall with a loud thud a second later.

You faintly hear him mutter an “oops” before his eyes are finally falling on you, brow raising at the sight of you clinging tightly onto atsumu as your chest heaves up and down.

SAKUSA KIYOOMI.

“What?” you can feel your concentration falter as soon as the sound of Sakusa’s voice reaches you, and you’re immediately wiping at the frustrated tears that have begun to collect along your lashes. “Can’t cum like that?”

You’re quick to shake your head, and he doesn’t miss the slight tremble to your lips. Cute.

Sakusa had his doubts about this idea of yours from the start. He knows how needy you always get— knows that despite that innocent face of yours, your cunt’s anything but. It’s greedy. Something like this was probably not gonna be able to get you to finish, and he knew that.. but a part of him was just curious.

What he wasn’t expecting, however, was to see you this frustrated. Your chest is rising up and down with each angry pant, arm coming to rub at your nose from the occasional sniffle after being denied orgasm after orgasm.

And him? he’s never felt such a strong ache before. The dark spot on his shorts are a tell-tale sign that he’s been leaking with pre-cum, and he can practically feel it starting to drip down his cock. Neither of you were doing so well, and if he was being honest, he’s on the verge of flipping you over and putting you in a mating press— but the small voice inside him wants to see you come undone on his thighs. Badly.

He’s just gotta see how you look.

“Need your cock, Omi.” You mumble, rising onto your knees to scoot further up, but he’s stopping you only a second later. “Omi? Why..?”

“No.” he says flatly. “You don’t.”

“I do!” You’re protesting immediately after, hands balancing on his shoulders. “Can’t finish without it— ah!”

You yelp when he’s roughly pulling you back down, his quad flexing as soon as your cunt makes contact with his leg. The hands around your hips are tight, and Sakusa’s setting a rhythm only a moment later, keeping the muscles of his legs firm and flexed to better rub against your clit.

“W-wait!” You’re stammering, whining straight into his ear as you frantically latch onto him. He lets you bury your face into the crook of his neck as he works you closer to your high, forcing you into a mind-numbing pace to have you flying right off the edge in a few more seconds.

“You can— don’t fight it.” His voice comes out as a deep grunt, a result of his dragged out attempts at ignoring the borderline painful throb of his cock, and oh- he was so going to take you in a mating press after this. The second you’re finished gushing, he was gonna flip you over and finally rid himself this irritating ache.

“Omi!” You sob, eyes clenching shut as your hips start to stutter, and he can feel you trembling underneath his hands. “Omi.. O-omi— ‘m close!” He only responds by roughly pressing his thigh up against you, thick muscle hitting your clit just right as you choke out a scream, finally gushing all over his thighs.

“See?” He exhales, breath hitching in his throat when your nails dig deep into his back, his hands slowly moving you up and down to ride out your high.

“You can.”

DAICHI SAWAMURA.

“Feeling good, huh? Don’t try to fight it.”

Daichi grunts when you tug at his hair a little harder, face buried deep into his front as you desperately hump his leg. He’s gentle with you, strong hands guiding you up and down his leg, but he’d be lying if he said his patience wasn’t starting to wear thin.

The sweet nothings he’s been whispering into your ear this entire time are starting to sound a lot less like cooing and a lot more like grunting.

He couldn’t help it. He can feel you so so vividly, feel your juices dripping down the sides of his thigh and hear you moaning straight into his chest. You were soaked through and through, and it’s taking everything in him to stay patient and let you have this.

“There you go.” He’s praising you when you grind against him particularly hard, ignoring the way his shorts are feeling painfully tight around his cock. “Just like that— move exactly like that.”

“Daichi,” you whine. “‘M getting so close— feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He exhales deeply, and the way his cock twitches suddenly has him groaning, hands squeezing a bit too hard against your hips as you wince. “Daichi..?”

“Oops, sorry princess.” He’s clenching his jaw, giving you a weak smile as you wrap your arms around him. “That’s my bad. Don’t mind me, okay? Just.. worry about yourself— this is all about you right now.”

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI.

You weren’t as subtle as you thought.

His legs just looked so strong, so perfect to sit on, and you couldn’t help yourself. He didn’t seem to think too much of it when you first sat a little lower than you usually did, straddling his mid thigh as he flipped through another manga that Tendou had lent him earlier that week.

Just subtle movements up and down his thigh was your original plan, but it didn’t take very long for him to catch on.

“What are you doing?” Ushijima’s voice has you jolting from where you’re seated on his left thigh, his gaze now on you and the way you’re frantically waving your arms around in defense, barely able to stammer out a “N-nothing!”

You just barely catch the way his eyebrow raises in suspicion. It has you moving off him the next second, but he’s tossing aside the manga, big and strong hands easily wrapping around your hips to keep you planted on him.

“Don’t leave yet.” He says, stern and flat, but you catch the hint of curiosity swirling deep in his eyes.

The familiar heat of embarrassment is flooding to your face in an instant, and your head hangs low. “S-sorry, Toshi.” You mumble, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “Your thighs just looked so big, just wanted to… ride them.”

It’s silent.

You work up the courage to snack a glance at him again, now faced with the sight of his head tilted a bit, as if confused by your confession. “B-but!” You continue, mouth already running off on its own. “Forget it, okay? It might be weird— Toshi..?”

It was just one little flex of his quad, one that had the muscle pushing up against your clit, but the way his name rolled off your tongue sounded sinful. You can feel his grip around your hips tightening a bit, and he’s leaning in to close the gap between the two of you.

“Wouldn’t it feel better like this?”

BOKUTO KOUTAROU.

It started off with an accidental brush of his knee against your cunt.

Bokuto had always been eager with his kisses. He had you pinned down on his mattress, body hovering over yours as he moved his lips against your own— and he hadn’t even noticed anything different until he heard you suddenly moan into his mouth. He’s pulling away the next second, eyes wide as he tries gauging your reaction again, bringing his knee back to rub over your cunt. And … just like clockwork, your eyes clench shut and you choke back a gasp.

He swallows thickly.

Only five minutes later and he’s got you seated on his thigh, moving you back and forth with a needy grunt, his free hand squeezing your cheeks as he forces you to look up at him. “Don’t look away, ‘kay?”

“You look pretty— pretty like that. I just wanna see.”

The look on his face isn’t much different from yours. His mouth is slightly parted in desperate pants, deep red spreading across his cheeks at the sight of you feeling good on his leg. He’s swallowing deeply before he takes in a sharp inhale right after, already pussy drunk and his dick hasn’t even touched you yet.

The way your face starts to contort when you’re rapidly approaching your high has him just hoping he doesn’t end up finishing untouched. It’s throbbing— absolutely aching with need and as soon as you start sobbing his name, he can feel his patience shatter into thin pieces.

You let out a loud yelp as soon as your back hits the mattress, Bokuto looming over you with a strained look on his face as he rushes to line his tip up with your hole. “S-sorry.” His voice is just above a growl. “I can’t help it after all. It’s okay though, right? Gonna make you feel good.”

Suppose to be You

•🖤🍑🏹🧟‍♀️•

Summary: You’re Shane’s girlfriend but when the apocalypse hits you find him changing and find yourself leaning more towards the only person who gives you the time of day, also you’re Rick’s younger sister

Pairing: Shane x f!reader, Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Warning: Shane’s a cheater obvi, harsh words, Merle

If you’d like to be tagged when I post this comment below!!

Honey

Evan “Buck” Buckley x fem!shy!probie!reader

summary: Buck helps you make cookies for the rest of the 118 and you both get distracted

word count: 2k

cw: make out session

part one part two part four part five

Your heart raced as you mixed the dough in front of you as you thought about the fact that Buck would be there any second. The two of you had been…well, you didn’t exactly know what you were, but what you did know was you were having fun. You had been spending any spare second you had together, but he still hadn’t seen your apartment and that made you nervous. 

Where someone lived said a lot about them and you wondered what he was going to think about it. It was much more decorated than his place with artwork taking over the walls and funky furniture pieces and little trinkets taking over practically every spare inch of the place. 

You didn’t know why you were so nervous. You were comfortable with Buck now and he certainly wouldn’t have judged the way your apartment looked. In fact, you were sure that he would have loved to look at every single one of your belongings, asking questions to let you know how interested he was in it all. If Evan Buckley loved one thing, it was hearing you talk. 

He loved that you had gotten more comfortable around him to the point of yapping all the time. And he’d listen with so much interest. You could have read a phone book and he would have sat there and listened intently, hanging onto every word. It had gotten to the point where he would ask you to read to him when you were in the firehouse waiting to respond to a call. He’d lay his head in your lap and close his eyes while you ran your fingers through his hair, reading aloud to him. 

There was a knock on the door that pulled you out of your thoughts and heat rushed to your cheeks as you wiped the flour off of your apron. You raced to the door and opened it, Buck on the other side with a bottle of white wine. He had on a bright smile that always only seemed to be reserved for you as you let him inside and he pressed a peck to your lips before closing the door behind him and making his way over to the island. 

He set the bottle down then turned to you, his arms circling your waist as he pulled you in for another kiss, this time, slotting his lips between yours, his lips moving against yours slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. You pulled away before he was ready and turned to grab some glasses for the beverage, Buck hot on your heels, grabbing hold of your waist and peppering your cheek with kisses, loving to hear the giggles fall from your lips before letting you go. 

“So do I get an apron?” He asked as he leaned against the counter next to you as you grabbed the glasses, barely reaching them. 

“They’re over there,” you pointed to the hook that was on the wall to the left of him. Your hand barely brushed the bottom of the glass and Buck stood behind you, resting his hand on your waist, reaching for the glass you couldn’t get to with ease while also grabbing a second glass with one of his other fingers. He then set the glasses on the counter in front of you and you turned around, a shy smile playing on your lips. 

“Thank you,” you looked up into his pretty blue eyes, feeling like you could fall into them just like every time you looked into them for too long. They were hypnotizing. Almost like a siren luring a sailor to his death, and you supposed that was a way you wouldn’t mind dying. 

“Of course,” he nodded. “Anytime.” 

“So…wine?” You asked and Buck turned around, reaching for the bottle while simultaneously looking for a corkscrew. You seemed to know exactly what he wanted and grabbed the thing from one of the drawers behind you before handing it to him. 

He pulled the cork out with ease and poured the wine before handing a glass to you. You clinked them together and you each took a sip before setting the glasses down on the counter. 

“So what’s first?” He asked, rubbing his hands together. 

“Wash your hands. That’s arguably the most important step.” Buck nodded and removed his hoodie and you didn’t miss the way the shirt he was wearing underneath rode up, giving you a perfect view of his happy trail. You looked a little too long then turned away, your cheeks heating. 

To distract yourself, you turned to the oven and put it on the right temperature before heading back to your dough that you had been working on. Buck admired you while you threw some chocolate chips into the dough, loving the idea of doing domestic things with you. He wanted to help you wash dishes and fold laundry and straighten up the place before you had guests over. 

He was falling hard and fast and the thing was, he didn’t even care. He would have usually proceeded with caution considering his relationship history, but for once, he wasn’t scared. People were always leaving him, and for once, he didn’t feel that way. He had a feeling you’d stay with him until your very last breath. 

You were nothing if not loyal, always sticking by people even if they didn’t deserve it. But Buck? Buck deserved it more than anyone you knew. He was the sweetest, most caring man you had ever known and you couldn’t believe that you had actually thought that he hated you.

Buck tied his apron and washed his hands thoroughly before waiting patiently for your instruction. You finished folding the chips into the dough then set it aside before grabbing the cookie sheet and putting some parchment paper on top of it. 

“Are you gonna let me help?” He asked. “That is why you asked me over, right?” Truthfully, you had asked Buck over just because you wanted to see him. You were too shy to admit it to him initially, so you just made up the whole cookie thing. You hadn’t even planned on making them. 

“Can I be honest?” You asked, suddenly feeling very embarrassed about your silly lie. 

“Of course,” he nodded, reaching up to give your shoulder a squeeze. You knew he wouldn’t judge or laugh, but you couldn’t seem to choke down your fear. 

“I lied,” you admitted, turning away from him. “I didn’t actually need your help, I just-” you cut yourself off, not sure if you should come clean. You turned away, staring at the time that was displayed on the oven. 

“You just what?” He asked softly, grabbing you by your chin and turning your head to face him, but you still wouldn’t look him in the eyes, yours staring down at the apron he was wearing. It was red and white gingham with little ruffles at the bottom. 

“I just wanted to see you.” Your voice was so soft that it was barely audible, but Buck could always somehow hear you despite that. 

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he chuckled, tilting your chin up and you finally looked him in the eyes. “I wanted to see you too.” 

“You did?” He couldn’t believe you were even asking that. He wanted to see you all the time. Even if he had just been with you, he was always desperate for more of your company. 

“Let me put it this way,” he stepped closer to you, grabbing hold of your waist and pulling you to him, leaning down so that your face was only inches from his. “I was going to invite you over before I got your text. I don’t like being away from you. When I get home from working a twelve hour shift with you, I have to force myself not to knock on your door or call you.” 

Your heart warmed at his confession. From his words, it had seemed like Buck was completely and utterly obsessed with you and you felt the exact same way about him. In a split second decision, you moved away from him and he followed you, unsure of what you were doing. Had he been too vulnerable? Had he shared too much?

You reached into the little bowl that was on the table that was by the door and grabbed hold of a key before turning to Buck and holding it out to him. His eyes widened as he stared down at it, the little thing between your fingers saying so much. He had hoped that the two of you would have gotten to that stage eventually, just not this quick. 

“Honey-” he paused, trying to get his thoughts together. “Are you-are you sure?”

“Positive,” you nodded with a smile. “I want you to have it so you can come over whenever you want. Even after work. Especially after work. We can unwind together and have dinner and go to bed.” The way you were describing it made then whole thing sound so inviting and Buck was very into the idea.

“Deal,” he nodded, grabbing the key from you and pocketing it before pulling you into a kiss, smiling against your lips and you did the same, laughing into his mouth because of how happy you were. The whole thing was messy with your teeth clinking together, but you eventually figured it out, your bodies pressed together, melting as one. His tongue swiped along your bottom lip as he tilted your head back so he had more access. You opened up and his tongue slid inside, swirling it around as his hands slid down, grabbing the backs of your thighs and he lifted. 

You jumped and he caught you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he carried you over to the counter. He set you down on the edge and he pushed down on your chin to open your mouth wider so he could taste every inch of your mouth. You tasted like cookie dough and the wine you had a little sip of and Buck couldn’t get enough. You just tasted so good and he wanted to devour you. 

The oven went off, the loud beep catching the both of you off guard. You broke apart in surprise and Buck hurried the oven to turn it off, chuckling to himself at the fact that you broke apart so quickly as if what you had been doing was wrong. And if kissing you was wrong, he certainly didn’t want to be right. 

Once the oven was off, he made his way back over to you and you spread your legs, giving him space to stand between them. He reached behind you and untied your apron while you did his. He lifted the strap over your head and had to stop himself from looking down at your tank top that dipped very low, giving him a perfect view of your cleavage. 

He got his own apron off then set them both next to you before leaning towards you, putting a hand on each side of you, caging you in. He leaned forward even more and just when your lips were about to meet, he grabbed his wine glass and took a sip, causing a very adorable pout to form on your lips. 

“Oh, did you want something, honey?” He asked, taking another sip from his glass, trying his best to not laugh. “Because if you want something, you’re going to have to speak up.”

“I want a kiss.” 

“Sorry.” He set his glass down. “I think those are in short supply tonight.” You knew he was pulling your leg and you were going to play along.

“Even for me?” You bat your eyelashes, knowing that that would always get him to give you whatever you wanted. 

“Even for you,” he replied with a nod of his head. “But I supposed that I could spare one…but you have to give me something in return.” Now you weren’t even sure if you wanted him to kiss you anymore since he was being so difficult about it.

“Like what?” You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at him and never thought that something being angry would be so goddamn adorable.

“You have to read to me.”

“I was going to do that anyway.”

“You’re right,” he nodded. “Well, I guess I just give you one for free, but where’s the fun in that?”

“Forget it,” you scoffed, hopping off of the counter and headed to the stairs of your loft. Buck was hot on your heels, trying to reach out for you, but you were moving too fast. 

You collapsed onto the bed and Buck was quick to lay on top of you, burying his face in your neck, peppering the spot with kisses as his hands reached up and he interlocked his fingers with yours.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he apologized against your skin. “I’ll give you all the kisses you want, just please don’t be mad at me.”

“I could never be mad at you, Buckley,” you said, pulling his head away from his neck so he’d look you in the eyes. He pressed a few quick pecks to your lips then buried his face in your neck again, his arms moving to circle your waist. Your hands moved up and down his back and eventually, the both of you fell asleep like that, thinking that the only place either of you ever wanted to be was wrapped up in each other’s arms.

Y/N: I think I’m in love with Crosshair

Tech: …

Y/N: Any thoughts?

Tech: And prayers. You’re going to need them.

venus; chapter seven; text

masterlist

taglist

note: also kinda short im sorry 😔 but i just wanna divide up the chapters where it makes sense to me and for the story, but hey, we got some yn and sakusa interactions (finally)

taglist: @lorisheaven @sugacor3 @laceythespacey @localgaytrainwreck @nobodybutnnoorr @meoqs @scoupsworld @matt444nixi @ncitygreen @evilari111 @supahumbreon @bub-ss @0ragnej0e @deadfish714 @snoowply @yessimo @pelicanpizza @jiminscarmex @swagkittybear @vi0let-writes @tyrantsmonarchy @softtashoney (if ur name is bolded and italisized i cannot tag you pls change ur settings)

Joining Star Wars Tumblr with a banger 🫶

Hi! I am Mayo, a history student who watched her first proper Star Wars in October last year. I’m an artist who is mostly active on Twitter, but my friends have recommended spreading to Tumblr aswel. (I have no idea how this app works…)

My interests are Dathomir (specifically the Nightbrothers (specifically Maul and Feral)), Clones, droids, Ithorians and men who eat cereal. Next to canon characters, I also like to draw my own OCs. I will definitely show them on here from time to time. As a side quest I am also creating my own Dathomirian clan. 💛

My most iconic art are probably these silly looking clones. They are still a work in progress. (For my twitter followers: I have tanned their skin a bit more. I forgot I had my blue light filter on and got jumpscared earlier).