#[ it was raining hard as balls when i wrote this ]

[phonkscribes]

Look what the cat dragged in.

You've been running for so long that your legs can't support the weight that's been placed upon them. You ran away from home, can't remember what stupid reason it was that you decided to bail and jump cities, but you're in Redgrave now, which isn't exactly the safest place for a youngster like you. You can fight sure, but you've only ever fought people, not demons. Luckily, you're saved by a hunter in a red jacket who takes you in before it storms.

ft. Dante & a runaway GN! Reader. Warnings in tags.

It had stalked you throughout the day. Hiding amongst the people like a wolf in a sheep’s hyde, its teeth drawn in a yellowed grin as it licked its chops. What could’ve possibly been so appetizing about you anyways, what, with how skinny you’ve gotten over the days. Running has never felt easier with how often you’ve been doing it ever since you ran away. Normally this wouldn’t have been much of an issue, let alone a problem if it weren’t for a few things. 

One, you didn’t get to eat today… at all. You’d ran into a silver haired asshole earlier who made you drop all the food you’d stolen from the corner store, having to forsake it all or let yourself get taken by the onlookers and shop keep. Two, in your scuffle, you’d sprained your ankle when doing a little bit of parkour. You’d been walking on it all day, not that you had anywhere to rest where you weren’t chased immediately after your stunt from the morning or told to go away because of how badly you smelled. At the very least, you weren’t defenseless. 

Armed with a lead pipe you nicked off a construction site, you held it out in front of you, daring the demon to try and come at you. Your eyes flared and you bared your own teeth, having only your canines to brandish like the gums full of knives that your foe had crammed into his face. One would shudder to think what it would feel like if it clamped down on you. It’d certainly put an end to your little game. You imagine your parents would be relieved to find that their burden was finally dead and gone. 

Finally, when it’s done circling around you, it lunges, you roll to the side, as it misses and immediately goes to make a follow up attack. Your hands move the pipe in front of you to keep the mangled claws from swiping at your trunk. You grunt, the force pushing you back on your bad leg as another hand knocks it out of your grasp. The devil makes a laughing sound, a throaty growl in its throat as it comes down on you. The fear of dying keeps you from giving in, sticking your arm out for it to bite down on instead of the soft meat of your neck. 

It hurts, a lot. 

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that it even broke your forearm in two. Its jaws crushing your skin and breaking your flesh with ease, you let out a roar as you get your feet under it and launch it over your head. The pavement is coated in scarlet, your blood spraying your own face in the process as you manage to get it off. It feels like you’ve dipped it in fire, the warmth creeping up as you look for the pipe on the ground. It sees where you’re looking, and you make a dash for it. 

“We’re so proud of you”, your mother chuckles as you look up into her eyes. You’re showing her something, you remember it was a drawing you made of your family. 

Your fingers grasp the rusty pipe, squeezing so tightly that your knuckles burn white, you whip away before you can be tackled again. Why? Why are you thinking about those things right now? You weren’t going back, you’d made up your mind. You wouldn’t be making it back… and maybe that disturbs you more than you’d like to admit. The devil laps the ground where you’d spilled your essence, delighting in the way that you taste as its beady eyes bore into your own. 

You’re so tired… you’re so hungry…

“Your mother and I will always love you, no matter what”, your father pulls you into a hug, smiling as you wrap your little arms around him. He was always saying things like that. When… where did it go wrong for you? 

You swing the pipe, a crack echoes as you strike the devil in the jaw, dislodging it from its head. It snarls as you take another swing, raising it over your head and striking down as hard as you can. Your hands are shaking, the adrenaline is sharp in your heart but it’s petering out. A gasp leaves you, as the momentum causes you to drop your weapon. Hopefully that’ll be enough. That’ll be enough and you can run away again. Again. 

That’s all you’re good at, isn’t it? 

When things get tough, all you’re good at is packing up your things and leaving. Is that why you left your mom and your dad? Is that why you left your loving home to die out here? 

Tears sting your eyes as you go, looking for a route, eyes scaling the roads. The word help is trapped behind the lump in your throat as you gasp. It wouldn’t be long until it catches up to you. Even if you hid, you still had to deal with your arm, and you couldn’t get the trails of red to stop. You’d be found… dead. No one would want to help you, not when you’ve made as many enemies as you have. You left that all behind when you ran away. 

Open your eyes and see reality. The sky darkens to a dark gray, the air feels cold, like needles stabbing at your lungs with each breath. Suddenly it’s something you are without, you look behind you when you see it galloping after you. It feels so… slow. Time is crawling to a stop as you stagger backwards, falling onto your ass as you look up into death’s eyes. You thought you’d be greeted by a much gentler end, something kind and comforting. Maybe you deserve this, for all the trouble you’ve made for everyone you’ve ever met. 

Are you so pathetic?

Are you so pathetic that you’d accept that? 

Red blinds your view, obscuring all and everything in a matter of seconds. Is that all you have to offer? Is that all you have to give? A screech echoes the solemn air, a shiver rakes itself across your body as the figure before you brings a sword up to rest on his shoulders comfortably. He has silver hair, nearly white compared to the clouds, and he smiles. When he sheathed his blade, he turned on his heel to look down at you, about to offer a hand when he sees the state yours is in. The man winces, knowing that it’s got to hurt. 

His mouth moves but you don’t hear what he says as he crouches down to pick you up, cradling you in his arms as he starts to walk down the street. Warmth spills down your cheeks, you can recognize that you’re crying and that these are tears. You know who this is, you’ve met him before, albeit indirectly. This is the bastard that cost you your meal… and saved your life. You’ll know that you’ll owe him. As you’re carried, you fail to notice the scenery change, how the bleak city streets have become much darker as he steps inside a building. 

This must be his home, and as he sets you down in a chair, he walks off to go and grab something. A box, a first aid kit. He starts to tend to your wounds, that’s when you refocus. The blank stare you held before shifts onto his face, then his hands as he takes your arm into his. His hands are big, rough and calloused, like he’s done a lot of fighting in his time. Though he’s surprisingly gentle, he looks up at you, waiting for you to say something. When you don’t he talks to fill in the silence. 

“You know you're a pretty tough kid. This is gonna sting a little, but lemme know if it’s too much, ‘kay?”, he has this certain way of talking that feels familiar. There’s a weird sense of nostalgia that makes you shake even as he starts to clean up the area and disinfect things. The sting has you grasping your knee with your free hand, squeezing it enough for him to take notice and stops. 

“Keep going. I can take it”

“Uh-huh… take a deep breath with me. Like this”

“I know how to breathe, just shut up and finish”

He makes a face, as if to say ‘okay…’, but he’s worried for you. You train your gaze to something else, focusing on the wall and glaring into it as you try to keep a straight face. You’ve been doing it so much that the mask is starting to slip off, falling to the metaphorical floor with a clatter. Your brow furrows, your eyes twitch, and worst of all your lip quivers. It hurts so bad, and you try to suck in a couple of breaths just so that you don’t make a sound. You didn’t want another reason to cry, the panic starting to creep up behind your eyes like roots from a weed. It really hurts him to see you trying to act so brave. 

He manages to stitch you up, tossing what bloody napkins he used to clean the wound to the side, even if he knows his brother or his other friends are going to get on him about it later. That would be a problem for later. Currently, he had bigger fish to fry. Your eyes have managed to dry, though are a puffy red now as you stare at the wall. He pulls out a chair and flips it around before taking a seat in front of you. 

“So… what’s your story?”, he asks, offering a friendly smile. 

“...”

“Not much of a talker, eh? That’s alright. My name’s Dante by the way, just so we can get that off the record. You hungry? I bet’cha are”, he gives your foot a little nudge to try and be funny but he accidentally brushes the ankle you sprained and pulls you from your silent treatment. 

“Oh shit- sorry–”

“It’s fine”, you say, “Thank you… for saving me”, the way you say it makes it sound like you’re being scolded. 

“Heyyyy don’t worry about it, it’s kinda what I do”, he says with a shrug. 

Dante gets up to head to the fridge to open it up and pull something out, a pizza box. He brings it to the table and drops it in front of the two of you. Your stomach growls at the sight of it. You tentatively reach for it, but stop halfway, uncertain if you should. The older man opens it and takes a cold slice out and bites into it, chewing appreciatively. You look at him as he just smiles at you, as if this was a totally normal occurrence, as if he hadn’t just picked you off the street like some kind of stray. You frown but can’t help but to chuckle and finally allow yourself to have a bite to eat. 

You take a slice in your hand and part your chapped lips to have a bite, practically drooling as you tear into it with your teeth. The rain patters against the roof and windows of the old building, and you pause to look outside as you chew and eat with Dante. You would’ve spent it out there had it not been for him, cold and starving. You’re grateful, happy to be here and just about ready to cry again. He looks at you for a moment, knowing that you’ve had a real rough journey. The hunter gets up and makes his way over to the fridge again, grabbing a soda for the two of you before pointing at the box thoughtfully. 

“I should probably heat that up for you, it’ll taste better if it’s warm y’know. Oh! And here, to wash it down with”, he places the can down beside you as you just stare up at him in awe. You can’t believe that any part of this is real as you shake your head and chew, liking it how it is now. He nods, being the same way. 

He leaves you be, guessing you’d probably be easier without him in the room as he decides to go and bring a pillow and blanket up from his room to let you crash on the couch. There’s no way in hell he’d let you back out on the streets. It felt like an obligation, like he had to. At least until you were strong enough to get back on your feet. He’s got your space all nice and prepared, making the pillow all fluffed up and nice. When Dante steps back into the kitchen to check on you, you’re slumped over the table. You’re not dead, he knew that much, but he couldn’t help but to sort of look on at you in awe. 

It was safe to say that he’d have to order another pizza for himself for dinner. 

“Upsie daisies”, he mutters to himself when he hoists you up and carries you over to the couch to set you down. You’re so sound asleep, and he’s careful not to disturb your banged up leg and arm. 

He sets you down and pulls the blanket over you, like a dirty burrito. When you’d wake up you could take a bath and get washed up, maybe have some more food. It’s kind of astounding how skinny you were, just skin and bones really. He watches you for a moment, reaching over to ruffle your hair as he walks off to go and finally clean up the kitchen for once. One of the rare times he ever bothers to do such a thing. 

[tonycries]

Prettier When Messy!

Synopsis. They aren’t afraid to get messy while making a mess of you, in fact, they love it - in all sorts of ways.

Pairing. Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, bréeding, really messy, light pússy-smacking (Nanami’s), spítting, cúmplay like a LOT of it, squírting, oral (female + male receiving), fíngering, overstím, jealousy (Gojo’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 3.6k

A/N. Wrote this n’ then had to have a run in the rain for a spiritual deep-cleanse. 

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Big n’ scary? No problem!

Now, Toji wouldn’t consider himself to be a nice man. But to be honest, the way you’re looking up at him with such adorably teary eyes, lips wobbling so nervously at his rock-hard cock, has got his heart lurching ever-so-slightly. And as does his swollen dick. 

“What’s wrong, doll?” he caresses your cheek, like the shameless bastard he is. Heavy balls twitching at the way he catches your sloppy pussy clenching in- anticipation? Fear? Both? “Nervous?”

“I um-” And oh if Toji thought he was painfully hard before then he wasn’t ready for that delirious little nod you give him. 

Ah, it never gets old. He loved this effect on you - how cute it was that you were so cockdrunk already, letting out a few whines. A few complains about how he was too big. And he knew exactly what to do about it. 

“Spread those legs some more, pretty.” 

And you barely even get the time to react before Toji’s impatiently wrestling open your legs so shamefully for him. Taking in one long look at how perfect you were for him - quivering and leaking so sinfully onto the sheets below - before spitting once. Twice. Thrice. 

Missing on purpose to let a steady stream of saliva and slick trail filthily down your quivering thighs. So debauched and wet for him - and if Toji was any less of a man he’d just fuck your pretty pussy right then and there. 

But, no. Oh no, instead, with a low hiss, he rests his swollen dick on your stomach, letting you gape at him in awe. How he was so hot and heavy on you. 

“See?” Toji muses, voice so infuriatingly even for someone that was leaking thick, hot precum all over your stomach. “Nothing to be afraid of. In fact, m’just gonna be right-” He traces his finger down your tummy, resting right above an invisible line where his fat tip was. “Here.” Pressing down. Hard. 

You jerk at the pressure, jolting - God, you should’ve known that Toji would fuck so mean. Playing around with the pretense of “comforting you” to tease you. To watch the way you keen and gasp at his movements. 

“But-” your breath hitches as he smears his precum all over your skin. So fucking sloppy, having way too much fun than he actually should - all at your expense.

“No buts, jus’ told ya, m’girl.” Toji chuckles darkly, leaning down to whisper hotly against your ear. Cock twitching so ferally on top of you at the way your voice cracks so adorably at the end, tinged with desperation. “N’ now, I’ve had enough of being nice so are ya gonna take it am I gonna have to make ya?”

And nothing more is said - by either of you. 

Because with that, it seems the last bit of Toji’s patience - or his restraint - has snapped at the sight of you splayed out so deliciously, too much for him. You, his favorite meal - gaping at his thick cock, all needy and messy with his precum - how could a man possibly say no?

“Oh! Fuck fuck fuck- s’too-” you squeal deliriously as he slides his angry tip between your swollen folds. 

Stretching you to your limits. Mindlessly pushing in quick, purposeful little grinds to bully his massive cock inside your tight pussy. Each movement getting more and more erratic than the last. More desperate. Sloppier. 

So debauched and dirty.  

And Toji - oh he’s just in heaven - letting out a deep, guttural groan as he just barely bottoms out. Heavy balls smacking your ass, those tufts of hair at his base scratching your throbbing clit just right. Thumb stroking that sinful little line of precum he’d made - and where he could feel himself bulging inside you. 

“Hey, doll, ya think I can go even deeper?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - To clean

You don’t know what makes you flinch more - the way Nanami was buried dizzyingly nose-deep in your cunt, lapping so greedily at your sweet sweet juices, or the way he just stops.

“K-Kento?” you whisper breathlessly, mind reeling from both the way you were so close and the final, deep kiss your husband gives to your swollen clit. Grinning at the way your hips jerk mindlessly in protest as he pulls away. “Why did you-”

And whatever disappointed whine dies in your throat at the heavenly sight before you - and oh it was so hard to look at Nanami without wishing he was back in-between your thighs. Hair ever-so-slightly disheveled, glasses sliding down his nose, venturing dangerously towards where your slick was glossing so prettily over his lips, all the way up, up, up-

“‘Why’, my love?” 

That snaps you out of your little reverie, and no sooner are the words out of Nanami’s mouth before he’s leaning in - capturing yours. So sloppy and desperate. 

You let out a muffled moan at the way you were tasting yourself and him and you. So sweet that you wondered which one of you tasted this addictive. 

“Now now,” and then he’s pulling away, angry cock twitching so painfully at your broken little whimper. “Don’t get too greedy.” As if you could be anything but. 

And maybe if you were in any better state of mind, you’d have said anything about the pure disrespect shining so uncharacteristically in Nanami’s eyes. About how utterly mean he was being as he slid his fat, weeping head up and down your swollen folds. All the way from the base, just grazing your throbbing clit. 

“I dunno if you deserve this, my love.” Nanami gives your quivering pussy a little smack! as if it was a little punishment, letting your slick smear all over his fingertips. “You’ve just been so messy- just look at my glasses.”

And oh, you can’t look away. 

Because your juices were blurring his glass, dripping so enticingly off of it that whatever rational little part of you thought it was on purpose. Absent-mindedly, you wondered how Nanami could see a damn thing. Seemingly moving on sheer instinct as he slides a long finger along the frame. Slowly. 

“I- want it s’bad, Ken- Give it to me.”

Several things happen at once, and before you know it, Nanami’s shoving his fingers inside your mouth. Muffling your fucked-out moan as he immediately presses into your heavenly pussy. Not even bothering to ease you into it this time before he’s thrusting into you. Rough. Again. And again and-

“They were expensive, y’know.” Nanami presses right in the back of your tongue, just loving how adorably you gag and moan around him. “The least you can do is clean me off.”

And you don’t have to be asked twice - or at all, really. 

Because you’re sucking and swirling your tongue around Nanami’s warm fingers like they’re your favorite candy. Looking him right in the eyes with such a deceivingly innocently, matching the pace of his hips in and out in and out in and- “Such a cute lil’ slut f’me, my love. When you’re all done with that, take care of m’cock too, y’got it very, very messy.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Hairband.

When Geto ties his hair back, you know you’re not going to be let off easy. Why would you?

It just means he’ll have no mercy - have you folded in half and stuffed full of his thick cock, begging and crying to just let you cum. It felt pathetic, really, but at this point you were too far gone - babbling delirious little pleas while he rocked his dick into your plushy cunt. Relentlessly.

“Please please please- hngh- Sugu- m’so close.” you whine, hips bucking wildly. Tears streaming down your face, your snug pussy clenching so tight that some part of Geto almost wanted to tease you for it. 

“Awww, poor baby. You wanna cum?” he coos, voice so mockingly innocent. Barely audible over the blood roaring in your ears. “Y’know what I always hah- say…”

And despite his words, Geto sounds as fucked-out as you - because, hell, he’s been torturing himself just as much as he was your poor cunt. Cock rock-hard and so so angry inside your heavenly pussy, teasing his orgasm while he waited for you to explode with yours. 

Sobbing out, “I- hngh- I know!” Breath hitching at the way his heavy balls sting your ass with each thrust. Sure to leave marks for tomorrow - his fingers on your hips, yours running down his sculpted back. “Wan- me to- hah- squirt, f’you. I wan’ to.”

God, it was so hard to not paint your pretty pussy white already. 

Instead, Geto’s capturing your swollen lips with his - partially because they were irresistible, partially because he really needed to shut up those cute lil’ whines right now.

“Not just squirt.” he moans against your lips. Fingers frenzied - almost painful - on your throbbing clit now. “Wan’ you to fuckin’ cover me in it- fuck-”

And he seems so content, smug about the way you flinch each time he yells out little profanities into your mouth. At the way you’re so cockdrunk, barely even realizing the soft ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time he hit your poor, abused g-spot. Finger frenzied on your clit - not even bothering to draw those steady little circles anymore, just lewd little patterns to get you off. 

He wanted this. Needed this so bad - needed to have you cover him with your sweet sweet juices until it’s glistening all over him. Unforgiving. Geto Suguru was absolutely unforgiving. 

And, well, cover him you do.

Because no matter how much you might babble out those adorable little protests, Geto knew your pretty pussy well. Almost too well. 

Well enough to know that you’ll have your orgasm crashing through you. So hard and borderline violent that it’s all you can do to claw at his back in an effort to get him to fucking slow down. That familiar little song and dance. 

Because Geto didn’t stop until he was all glistening with your essence - absolutely depraved in the act. His pretty girl was so gorgeous squirting all over him. Only milking his painfully hard cock on your trembling pussy harder. 

Everywhere. See, the hairband always comes in handy. And Geto wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here right now, letting your juices smear all over his aching dick, to his abs - darting all the way to his lower face.

It was so messy. So debauched - it sends Geto over the edge as well. Pumping thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your pussy white. Loving how fucking sloppy your pretty lil’ cunt was as it sucked up everything so greedily. Again and again-

“Hey, gorgeous.” Geto mutters, tongue darting out to get a taste of the slick coating his lower lip. Honestly, he doubted you could even hear him with how fucked-out you were. “Can y’ do it on m’tongue, too?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - You look good in white

“Fuck fuck fuck, open wider f’me, baby-” Choso groans, angling his head just right to catch the way your throat bulges so obscenely around his swollen cock. Watching the way it goes in and out in and out in and-

You were so gorgeous like this - you always were - but here on your knees, nose pressed firmly against the small tufts of black hair at his toned pelvis, he thinks you’ve never looked better. 

Now all he has to do is hold off until the best bit.

But it was so difficult when you’re shoving yourself down inch by fucking inch. Milking Choso’s aching cock for all he’s worth. So greedy with the way you were gagging and choking so prettily around his thick cock. Swirling your tongue under his sensitive slit just the way you knew he liked. 

And oh it has Choso feeling like he could just pass out. He could just feel the way you were smirking - knowing exactly what you were doing.

“Sh-shit.” he gasps, fingers trembling on your hair as he fucks your mouth like his own personal fucktoy. “Ya hngh- like this, huh?” Thighs quivering, hips stuttering deeper into your hot mouth. “Like me using that s-smart mouth like ha- this?”

The only response he gets are your nails dragging down his milky hips, leaving angry, red marks in their wake. A warning - a request. One that Choso knew was a sign that you needed to taste him - to have him. 

One that had him speeding up his sloppy thrusts, over and over- Abs aching with the movement, veins throbbing at a maddening little thump! thump! thump! against the roof of your mouth. 

“Oh- Oh fuck! Feels s’good-” he babbles, hips bucking up involuntarily into your slutty mouth. “Shit shit shit oh-.” 

Faster. Deeper. Sanity held together only by a delicate tether - one that snaps when you look up at him with those beautiful eyes, moaning around Choso’s cock like you were begging him to ruin you. 

Oh and then Choso’s cumming and cumming so hard he thinks he might’ve just died and gone to heaven right there. And you - you were such an angel, tears stinging your eyes, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth. 

Mixing with his cum in such a sinful combination as he spills desperately into you, shooting thick, hot spurts of seed down your waiting throat. 

So fucking filthy. 

Only getting filthier when that feral, debauched part of Choso really can’t help but pull out ever-so-slightly. He chuckles at the way your eyes widen in surprise when he smacks his weeping dick all over your face.

Ah, this was his favorite part - always was. And he can’t even think to bring himself to be disgusted as he smears his seed all over your face. Twitching angrily in his fist at the way it drips down all over your chin, forming a lewd little pool on the floor. So, so pretty for him. 

“Now now,” Choso lets out a guttural grunt, balls squeezing so painfully at the ruined state of you. “Wan’ see if I can hah- mess up this cunt jus’ the same, baby.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Wipe those tears!

Your only problem was that Sukuna was as mean as he was absolutely filthy. 

“Aww, pretty baby.” Those words would be reassuring - but you knew better. Because his tone was just dripping with something so dangerous - something that had you feeling more and more like Sukuna’s little toy. “I thought you could give me another one.”

“B-but-” you gasp. “S’too much, Kuna, don’t think-”

“You will. Or-” he cuts you off, fighting that feral, cruel little urge to shove his entire dick in your snug cunt. No care or concern for those big, frustrated tears welling up in your eyes. “I’ll just make you. Your choice.”

God, you could almost sob - maybe from the way Sukuna was chuckling at your expense. Maybe from the way he was pushing in shallow, determined little thrusts to fit inside your tight pussy. Trying to fuck out- which number orgasm was this again? Ah, you don’t even know - and Sukuna doesn’t care. 

He’s had you creaming around his fingers- his tongue- his thigh. And now, all he wants is for you to cum on his dick. You could almost feel his weeping tip graze your cervix already and- was he even halfway in, yet?

“Nope.” Sukuna hums, leaning down to those tears rolling down your cheek. Shit, did you say that out loud? “Maybe m’not even a quarter inside your pretty cunt. Why don’t y’take a look for yourself, brat?”

And it seemed like Sukuna was well and fully intent on driving you insane. Because no sooner have you craned your neck to take a glance, you’re met with the most sinful sight you’ve ever seen - your swollen folds stretched so obscenely around his weeping tip, soaked with precum and sucking him up so eagerly. Sukuna’s fingers toying deftly with your sensitive clit, rolling it between his fingers.

Which really made sense why he loved this little routine - have you pathetically pretending you couldn’t cum for him again, acting like your slutty lil’ pussy wasn’t trying to fucking milk him dry. He loves it. Loves the way your mind is telling you to run away but your needy cunt wants more more more-

“Enough of the games now.” he tuts, wrapping a hand around your neck, pulling down down down onto his thick cock. 

And you can only keen in response, tears streaming down your face faster because his cock too big. The stretch too sinful. Prominent veins grazing your plushy walls in a maddening  bump! bump! bump! you were losing your mind to. 

Sukuna wants you to cum- he needs you to. More badly than he wants to cum. Thumb just erratic on your clit, so sloppy and needy.

And then you’re cumming and cumming so hard that sensitive little tears roll down your cheeks. Not even realizing it at first, barely registering the stars behind your eyes, white-hot pleasure shooting up your cunt. Over and over-

Sukuna quickly darts out his tongue to lick them away. Long, languid stripes up your face. So fucking sloppy with it on purpose. But you can’t even bring yourself to be disgusted. Mind reeling with how good you felt and those sharp fingernails resting right over your racing pulse. 

Dangerous. A warning. 

As if Sukuna would kill you if you didn’t take his cock - when he was the one that actually felt like dying right now. 

Because you were too cute like this, cockdrunk and milking him greedily inch by fucking inch. So fucking tight. Enough to give the king of curses heart palpitations, honestly. 

A full-on heart attack when he finally bottoms out. Ramming the rest of his length in one quick, harsh thrust. 

He smacks his lips, savoring the salty taste of your tears. Some tiny part of his cold heart so fucking proud. He knew his lil’ slut could give him another one - you always do.  “Dry up those tears, brat. Because I haven’t cum yet.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - “To think of me~”

“T-Toru, I really need to go-”

“No no no- fuck m’so close, sweetheart.” Gojo gasps into your mouth. Hips so frenzied and sloppy against yours, squeezing his throbbing cock in you like a man possessed. The idea of stopping not even close in his pussydrunk mind. 

It’s been this way for so long now, and you’d only been halfway out the door before Gojo was pulling you back into the bedroom. That lil’ sundress was way too pretty that he just had to hike it up your hips and pull aside your drenched panties. Making sure to stuff your pretty pussy full. 

And, well, the fact that you were going to meet one of your old guy friends might have had something to do with it, too. 

Hey, even the strongest gets jealous sometimes. And Gojo is so sloppy when he is. Hips stuttering and bucking wildly into yours. All filthy desperation where he was usually so suave in bed.

He just can’t help but make a mess of your dripping cunt, reeling back to watch the way your sloppy hole struggles to take all of him. Glistening and trying to milk the soul out of him in the dim lighting. In and out in and out in and-

You’re letting out such a pathetic whine, “But- m’so-”

“Close?”

“Late.”

Of course, Gojo rolls his eyes with the audacity of someone that wasn’t the reason you’ll have to make up some excuse about traffic being awful this time around. Instead, he’s rolling his thumb over your sore clit , breath hot against your ear, “Guess m’gonna have to hurry up then, hm?”

It’s all that’s said before he’s fucking into you deliriously. Faster. Deeper. Bouncing you on the plush mattress like some slut. 

Scoffing, “Y’should just stay home.” Hips snapping ever the more mercilessly with each word. “Stay with me insead. I’m sure she-” He gives your pussy a quick, sharp smack! laughing at the way you’re moaning breathlessly. “-definitely agrees.” 

“Shit- feels s’good hah- shit shit-”

So fucking sloppy. Like he was trying to fuck the idea of staying home into you - each thrust so harsh. Running on pure jealousy and the feeling of your heavenly cunt wrapped around him. Unforgiving. 

“Toru- m’gonna cum- I’m so-” And it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. Nothing but white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, and it’s so good that you’re pulling Gojo closer by his toned hips. Being late be damned because you’re cumming so hard you’re sure you see the pearly gates of heaven itself.

Or maybe that was just Gojo - tears pricking his eyes as he cums with such a strangled gasp of what sounds like your name. Thick, white ropes that gush out of your snug pussy, smearing all over his sensitive balls. 

It feels so heavenly that Gojo really can’t help but check if it looks that way too. 

Thumbing apart your folds to watch the way his seed spills out of you, so fucking filthy as it pools on the fresh sheets. So bloated and messy with him. Pulling out ever-so-slightly like he was torn between milking out every last drop of cum on your cute pussy and making a mess of your panties.

The latter wins, apparently. Because he’s painting your panties white, shooting out thick spurts of cum that smear all over your legs. So drenched and flimsy that it was almost difficult for Gojo to snap them playfully back in place.

“Something to remember me by when you go. Have fun~”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[pedrospatch]

captive

Raider! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: You find yourself missing your captor while he’s out on an early morning hunt with the rest of the group.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. RAIDER ERA. DARK!JOEL. DUBCON. IMPLIED PREVIOUS NONCON. UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 50). READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION. mentions of Joel’s group murdering reader’s group, it’s implied her family members were also killed, Joel pretty much kidnaps reader and keeps her as his own, stockholm syndrome, reader deals with a lot of very distressing and conflicting feelings, Joel isn’t too creepy or extremely dark, but he is still not a good person, mentions of Tommy. VERY BRIEF SMUT in the form of cockwarming, daddy kink but i didn’t go overboard this time, pet names (honey, baby, babygirl, sweetheart) if i missed anything, you can POLITELY let me know because if i missed anything, it was purely accidental. minimal editing.

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS.

if this isn’t your thing, that’s fine, just scroll on by.

word count: 1.4k

a/n: i might actually throw up idk. i’ve had this itch to try dark joel and seeing as i have major writer’s block with all my other wips i decided to just scratch the itch. this is a little out of my comfort zone but i actually ended up feeling pleased with what i wrote. this is my personal take on dark/raider joel, i’m sure it is very out of character but it’s fanfiction so…yeah. here it is.

It’s the rain that rouses you from your sleep.

It beats down heavily on the remote cabin’s tin roof.

Loud. Much too loud.

You roll over, settling yourself on your side.

The mattress is old, worn, rotting beneath the sheets.

You can’t complain, though. At least you have a bed.

Everybody else is forced to sleep on the hard floor.

He always gets the room with the bed.

As his special girl, that means you always get the room with the bed too.

It’s not quite as flattering as one would believe.

He only ever wants the bedroom for one reason—to keep you behind a locked door so you can’t run.

You sigh softly and stare out the window. He’d secured that too, made certain that it couldn’t be opened from the inside.

Closing your eyes, you try and go back to sleep.

Sleep doesn’t come.

His absence is starting to bother you.

You’ve been with him for an entire season now.

You’re getting used to him.

The sound of his voice. 

The warmth of his body.

The taste of his lips.

You can’t even sleep without him next to you.

“Fuck,” you whisper, clutching the stale sheets, balling them in your fists out of frustration.

How was it possible? How could you be missing him?

He had taken everything from you.

Your family.

Your home. 

Your innocence.

He was holding you captive. He was a monster.

But a monster doesn’t keep you safe.

Doesn’t clothe you.

Doesn’t feed you.

Doesn’t protect you.

He did all of those things and more. 

Is that why you feel so empty without him beside you?

Is that why you’re no longer so certain you would run if you were given the chance to escape him?

You fucking hated him for what he’d done.

Yet here you are, aching for him to come back to you.

It’s another hour before you hear the lock clicking. 

Joel pushes through the door, quietly closing it behind him.

“Y’awake?” he asks, slipping his pack off his shoulders.

“Mhm,” you answer with your back to him. “I am.”

You hear the sound of his pack hitting the floor.

His worn leather boots being kicked off. 

His rifle being set down, propped against the wall.

“How was the hunt?”

You can feel him freeze as he’s taking off his jacket.

Getting you to willingly speak to him had always been a lot like pulling teeth. Difficult, almost impossible.

When he doesn’t respond, you roll over to face him.

There’s a swoop in your tummy.

Joel is drenched from head to toe. His blue denim shirt clings to his broad frame and his dark, graying curls are slicked back away from his face.

He’s got such a handsome face.

Monsters aren’t supposed to have handsome faces.

He raises an eyebrow. “You’re really askin’ me how the hunt went?” Suspicion laces his tone. “Why? Y’worried you won’t eat tonight?”

Of course you weren’t.

Joel Miller doesn’t let you go hungry.

When food is scarce, he makes sure you eat first. If he notices you rubbing your tummy because your portion wasn’t enough, he’ll give you his own portion.

He takes care of you.

“No.” You pause and sit up. The sheets you two share fall away from your body, leaving your soft, supple breasts on full display for him. “Just wanted to know how your morning went. That’s all.”

It’s not your tits that make his cock twitch against the zipper of his jeans—it’s the sincerity that flashes across your features, the sound of it in the tone of your voice.

You’re being sweet to him.

He clears his throat lightly.

“Went real good. Brought down a deer. Female, ‘bout a hundred pounds or so. Enough to keep all of us well fed for the next couple of weeks,” he says with a nod. “Was pissin’ rain the entire time but it was worth it. Tommy’s in the shed out back right now dressin’ it so we can get a stew started.” He pauses. “You’re gonna get a proper meal tonight, babygirl. Belly’s gonna be nice and full.”

He’s not just talking about food and you know it.

You make an effort to meet his gaze, but you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to do it, not when you remembered how he’d taken you away from your family—how he had carried you over his shoulder, kicking and screaming as his people raided your camp and slaughtered every last member of your group because that’s what Joel Miller had ordered them to do.

Looking him in the eye might be the one thing you will never, ever be able to do.

“It’s cold,” you murmur after a minute. “You should get out of those wet clothes before you get sick.”

With a subtle nod, Joel turns around and starts peeling off his clothes until he’s completely naked. He uses an old rag to dry himself off as best as he can, although it doesn’t do much for him.

You can’t help yourself and stare—your gaze drags over the strong muscles of his back and shoulders, how they flex and ripple beneath his skin with every single one of his movements. Arousal pools between your thighs and all you can do is fucking hate yourself for wanting it, for wanting him.

“S’pretty early still,” he states, his back still to you as he runs the rag through his hair. “Y’should try to get some more sleep.”

The confession tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think about stopping it.

“I couldn’t sleep while you were gone.”

Surprised, he turns around.

Almost immediately, your eyes fall to his cock.

Even when he isn’t fully hard, he’s still so fucking big.

“Is that so?” Joel asks, sounding rather pleased. 

“Yes,” you say, softly. “I—I missed you.”

His lips turn upwards into a subtle, faint grin.

“Yeah?” he coos. “My sweet little girl missed me while I was gone? Hm?” Slowly, he approaches the bed. It dips slightly and the frame creaks as he plants a knee on the mattress and leans over towards you. Gently, Joel takes your chin between his index finger and thumb. “Y’need Daddy by your side so you can sleep, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you whisper, warm tears glazing over your eyes.

It’s bad enough your body welcomed him so easily.

Now your heart was starting to do the same.

And then there was your mind.

What if that stopped fighting him too?

Part of you is afraid it already has.

Joel climbs into bed, joining you under the sheets.

“M’here, my pretty girl. C’mere, honey.” He coaxes you to lay on your side and pulls you back against his chest. His skin is still damp, frigid from having been out in the elements, but somehow he’s still warm. “That better?”

“Need you closer,” you mumble, wiggling against him.

Joel groans, his thick cock hard and throbbing against the small of your back. He nips at your bare shoulder as his hand drags down the length of your body and slips between your thighs. “Christ, babygirl. Pussy’s soakin’ wet for me. Looks like she missed me while I was gone too, didn’t she, sweetheart?”

He runs his finger along your slick, silky folds.

“Daddy,” you whimper, bucking into his hand.

“Don’t worry, honey. Daddy knows what you need.”

Joel pulls his hand from between your legs.

You almost cry—you’re so fucking desperate for him. 

And you shouldn’t be. 

He reaches in between your bodies, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock. Without warning, he slips it into your tight, aching cunt, sheathing himself in your warm, wet heat in one smooth stroke.

You choke out a sob.

It’s always overwhelming, that initial stretch.

That fullness, the feeling of him being in your belly.

“S’alright, sweetheart. S’alright. I know you can take it,” he soothes you. “You’re such a good girl for me. Always take my cock so fuckin’ well. So good for me, baby. You feel better now that Daddy’s cock is buried inside your pretty little pussy?”

He drapes an arm around you, pulling your back flush against his chest.

“Yes,” you breathe, placing your hand on top of his.

Joel feathers a kiss onto your neck.

“Go to sleep, babygirl. M’here. Ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he promises you.

That shouldn’t be a comfort to you. But it is.

You close your eyes, your fingers subconsciously lacing together with his as you start to drift.

Cunt full of his cock, you fall asleep in your captor’s arms.

divider credit to @saradika🤍

[rememberwren]

I finally wrote for Gaz <3 Quick little blurb about BFF!Kyle / fem! reader. You ask Kyle to practice sucking dick. You know. On him. Ft. a rather subby Kyle Gaz Garrick. Part 2 here.

-

The first thing Kyle does after you ask to practice sucking his cock is—

—jerk off. I mean, he agrees. He showers, even though he had showered earlier that day. But in the shower, he jerks off because he knows that if he doesn’t, he’ll be spilling himself into your mouth straight away. It’s hardly the learning experience he wants to give you.  

Erection sated, what he doesn’t do is think about the why. He doesn’t think about the next person, the one you might be trying to learn these skills for. That way only leads to pain, and he’s not interested in the angst tonight, not when he’s got this opportunity in front of him packaged up neater than a gift at Christmas. 

You sit on your heels while he sits on the edge of the bed, naked. For cumming only ten minutes ago, he’s having no problem getting hard, not with the way you look at his cock: a little dumbfounded, a little curious, a little scared, a little excited. 

“It doesn’t bite. At least it didn’t the last time I checked,” he teases. He doesn’t admit that it was only ten minutes ago. “You can touch it if you want. Just stop whenever you want to stop, yeah?” 

Comforted, you reach out and stroke your fingertips along the velvety length of his cock. You trace around the foreskin, down the shaft, even brave enough to gently cradle his balls in your palm.

Kyle loves it—loves turning himself into a statue beneath your touch, loves existing only for your innocent exploration. He murmurs soft words of encouragement beneath his breath, watching as your confidence blossoms like a flower beneath rain. Until you feel bold enough to lean forward and place a chaste little kiss on the head. 

His cock jerks, a quiet moan pulled from his throat at the softness of your mouth. You pull back, laughing a little at the unexpected movement of his cock. You’re moving plenty yourself though: can’t seem to sit still, shifting from one side to the other. Anything to get a little pressure on your pussy. 

“Are you already wet?” Kyle asks. “Just from kissing my cock?”

You laugh again, embarrassed, and cover your face with your hands. Kyle reaches out to peel them away, eager to see your every minute expression. It’s important that he does, he tells himself, so that he can tell if you’re uncomfortable. It has nothing to do with enjoying the way your mouth drops open a little when you stare too long, the way your eyes get heavy-lidded when you breathe in the clean scent of him and his shower gel.

“First lesson,” he says, guiding your wrists back down to your sides. “Anyone ever asks you to suck their dick and you don’t want to, say no. If they insist, kick them right in the balls.” 

“I already knew that,” you huff, rolling your eyes at him. 

“Second lesson: don’t bite it off. That’s the end of the lessons, really. Take it from somebody with a dick, we’re just grateful it’s in your mouth. As long as we get it back in one piece, we can’t really complain about whatever you do to it.” 

Your laughter goes a long way to relaxing that last anxious part inside his chest, the one that is worried he has somehow pressured you into this (despite your insistence that this was what you wanted; that Kyle was the only man in your life you felt safe enough to explore with). When you put your hands on his thighs to brace yourself, kneeling up, he laces your fingers together with his own, smoothing the calloused pad of his thumb across your knuckle. 

“Go at your pace. You’re in charge unless you decide otherwise,” he says, watching as your mouth comes closer to his aching length. Your eyes flicker up to him, the picture you make of pure pornography as you kneel between his thighs like a sinner, holding onto his hands like a saint. 

You place open-mouthed kisses along his length, tasting him, working your way up and down his cock. It’s a test of his restraint to keep still and quiet and let you explore like this, when all he wants is your lips wrapped around him. A bead of precum wells at the slit of his cock and he watches your eyes find it, fingers wiggling free of his own so that you can reach out and drag the pad of one finger through the pearly seed. Your eyes find his, a hint of caution there, like you aren’t sure if you’re about to do something bad—but whatever you see in his face (likely something far too honest, far too open and worshipful)---settles your anxieties. You slip the finger into your mouth and suck it clean, nose wrinkling a little at the taste. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he says, breathless. “You don’t have to finish me at all, okay?” 

You roll your eyes again. “Gaz. Stop talking.” 

“Shut me up,” he challenges, holding out his hands as if to say, Be my guest. 

You take a deep breath, shoulders squaring. Your mouth opens and then the head of his cock rests against the warm wetness of your tongue. Whose eyes shut first? He couldn’t say. Your mouth closes around him, sucking softly on just the tip as your fingers come to wrap around the base, thumb stroke along the underside. Kyle mutters a curse, sucking in a breath and holding it until his lungs burn. Fuck, your mouth is like liquid heat, the little suckling motions of your tongue soft and sweet as you test out different intensities and pressures. You lean forward, taking more of him past your lips, and he lets out a long, low groan. 

He forces his eyes open, suddenly aware that he is missing it. You’re here, on your knees, sucking his cock like the best girl, and he’s missing it. You’re already watching him, a smile visible at the corners of your eyes. You take him into your mouth until his head nudges at the back of your throat where it turns soft. You gag a little, and he curses again, a sound which has you shifting against your heels. 

You set a hesitant rhythm, head bobbing. It takes you time to coordinate your hand and your mouth, but once you do, it tears a whine from his throat. You keep yourself comfortable, only taking him in to the back of your mouth, but he has no complaints, his belly tight with pleasure, breaths coming shallow and fast. 

“That’s it,” he breathes, reaching out to cup your jaw in his hand, thumb smoothing along the hollow of your cheek as you suck. “So good. Doing it just right, aren’t you?” 

You make a little needy sound, shifting on your heels again. 

“Wet, pretty girl?” he wonders. “You can’t sit still. Is this turning you on?” 

You nod, his cock in your mouth. 

“Show me,” he says, half-delirious with need. “Touch yourself and show me.” 

You remove the hand from the base of his cock and slip it down the front of your leggings. When you pull it free and hold it up to the light, your first two fingers are wet, a line of slick connecting them thin as spidersilk until it breaks while he watches. 

“Fuck,” he breathes. Part of him wants to leave you in pain, desperate for relief, to watch you squirm between his legs like you’re kneeling on hot coals. The other part of him wants to feel the vibration of your moans around his cock, and that is the part which wins. He’s always considered himself a generous guy. “Touch yourself—’s only fair. You’re making me feel so good.” 

You get clumsy once your hand is between your legs. Your other hand holds the base of his cock steady, but he can tell you lose focus on him, the slick sounds of your fingers rubbing against your clit just audible. Sometimes your mouth goes loose and lax around him, tongue aimless. Kyle groans, hips jerking a little deeper into the softness of your mouth, desperate for anything you give him. You’re the one on your knees, but you’re so far in control that it’s almost laughable. 

“Don’t stop,” he whispers, stroking where your lips are split open around him, using the pad of his thumb to feel his cock through the softness of your cheek. “Please don’t stop, pretty girl, just—please—” 

You blink, coming back to yourself a little, and the suction around his cock tightens to a point somewhere between bliss and pain. Though your efforts have been clumsy and the lesson has gone properly off the rails, he can feel his balls drawing up tight against his body, his cock throbbing against your tongue. 

“I’m close—pull off, baby,” he says. 

You stiffen, eyes going wide. He slips in too deep and you gag around him, a wet choke that shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does, your eyes slipping shut until your lashes rest on your cheeks, broken little whines filtering out around his cock as you cum on your fingers. 

It’s too much for him. He pulls out just in time, one hand cupped loosely around the head of his cock and the other stripping its length in short, quick strokes as he cums after you, teeth clenching, jaw tight around your name in his mouth. He fills his hand and some slips out between his fingers, dripping down onto your thighs below. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes. “Are you okay?” 

You nod, working your hand free from your leggings. You’re slick all over your palm. He wants to lick it clean. 

“I didn’t pay attention,” you blurt out. 

He stares. 

You continue: “Like, at all. I’m sorry, Kyle, I was so—I was distracted. But I think I’m better now. Can we…can we try again?” 

More cum drips from between his fingers. You squeal and stick your open hand beneath his to catch it before it can ruin your leggings more than they already are. After a lengthy silence, Kyle sighs. 

“Yeah, pretty girl, we can try again. Give me ten minutes.”

[melanated-writersblock]

(O.M.G.P) One Month Grace Period

Toji x Chubby/Plus-Size!Black!Female!Reader

~No Nut November is over, and Toji couldn’t think of anything more exciting than turning you into his free use slut to bring in the new month😘

A/N & Warnings: I’M SORRY YALL I GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH THE STORY IT IS LONG AS FUCK!!! But it’s not just porn with no plot!!! (For those of you that aren’t just in it to get mentally dicked down, I wrote a prologue! The link is below and can be read before you start this fic!)

LIKES ARE COOL, BUT COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE BETTER! PLEASE LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! ALSO DON’T COPY MY SHIT. I WILL KNOW.

Content: Multi-sex scenes, praise/degradation, free-use so dub-con, Oral (f receiving), a small bit of spit kink in there, fingering, shower sex, couch sex, kitchen sex, bedroom sex, unprotected sex, What did NLE Choppa say? MEAT TO MEAT! WALL TO WALL! COOCHIE TO MY BALLS!🗣️ (18+ MDNI)

SONG RECOMMENDATIONS: Freaky Bih from Da A - Louisvt, Fuck The World - Brent Faiyaz, What You Need - Don Toliver, 2AM - SZA, Ambré’s Interlude - Destin Conrade, Animosity/ Dear Xodi - Johnny Rain

Prologue - November 30th

December 1st

12:45 AM.

Your thighs quivered as Toji pounded into you relentlessly, the lewd sound of skin slapping as his precum mixed with your wetness filled the room. It felt too good, you didn’t know whether to scream or just shut up and take it. Between Toji having one arm over you bracing the headboard and the other pushing your thighs back, knees near your chest, you felt yourself getting a little too close. “Oooh- Toji, I’m gonna….oh fuuuhhhkkk~” Toji chuckled at your mewling, “Look at you, only 45 minutes in and you’re ready to cum on my cock like a greedy little slut.” His pace slowed, almost painfully. “I didn’t give you permission to do that just yet, Princess.”Watching his girth slide in and out of you, Toji brings two fingers to the base of his dick where your cream spills out with each thrust and sucks his fingers clean. You can’t help but moan at the sight of something so sinful yet passionate, you clench around him as his slow pace persists. Too far gone and busy chasing ecstasy, you didn’t notice Toji move his arm from gripping the headboard to cradle the back of your head as he leaned his weight into you, with his mouth next to your ear. “Yeahhh you’re clenching around me so tight, you’re such a fucking slut. Taking this dick like the good little bitch you are, you’re so fucking wet for me.” “Unnnhhh~” “Ooohhh, yeah. Yeah?” “Yes-yes-yes~fuccck!” “Come on Baby, I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me~” “Toji don’t make me……fuck…….please…..Toji pleaseee~” His pace picks up, “How hard was that, Hmm? You’re too shy to ask me to cum but you’re making a mess on my cock with no problem.” As his thrusts get harder he cradles your head, blocking it from hitting the headboard, his fingers weaving through your box braids, your floral bonnet long gone, thrown somewhere on the nightstand. You hold onto his sturdy arms for some sort of anchor, as you feel your soul quite literally about to leave your body. You let the sudden wave of pleasure take over your body as you shudder, mouth open, screaming vulnerably, eyes closed, with tears brimming. “Yesss, cum for me, give it to me, give it to me. Ohhhh, Good Girl!”

9:19 AM.

“Ah fuckkkk, that’s it~” Toji hoisted you against the tiled shower wall with your full legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks into you, the supple flesh of your ass moving with ease as he guides you onto him, the steam of the hot shower shrouding the entire bathroom in a thick fog. Your morning routine took a turn when your shower time got sabotaged by Toji and his morning wood. So here you were, getting lifted up and impaled on his dick like you weighed absolutely nothing. Still dazed from the midnight session, the pleasure was intense, and you were honestly, still kinda sensitive. You leaned your back against the warm tiles and pushed your hands on his sculpted chest to brace yourself and lessen the force of the thrusts, but each time you’d lean against the wall he would lean back so your full weight was on him and your breasts were flush against his chest. Despite your voluptuous stature, he was able to manhandle you and throw you around like a simple bag of sugar. One of his many redeeming qualities, and admirable…..but not in this situation. “Come on Baby, you were being so good for me earlier. You sensitive?” You couldn’t speak, and he knew it. Toji got off at the thought of you still being fucked out and a moaning mess. It haunted his dreams all November. Imagining how many ways he could make you cum on him, scream and writhe in pleasure, all while he’s still chasing his first high.

12:04 PM.

You knew the kitchen incident would have to be addressed at some point, but this isn’t how you expected it to go. “Move your fucking hand.” “Toji pleaseeee, you’re gonna make me cum again~” “That’s the whole point, now move your hand and keep your legs open.” You were in the process of making lunch because you and Toji agreed that you both were hungry, but apparently you weren’t on the same page. Toji made quick work of lifting you onto the kitchen counter and throwing your thighs over his shoulders before going to town. Looking down at him from your seated position, his tousled black hair visible as he laps up your juices. “You taste so fucking good Princess~” Toji was wearing you down, every single word out of his mouth brought you that much closer to your next orgasm, “~Thank you”. He stops for a moment to give you a kiss and you moan, tasting yourself on him. “You’re being so obedient” Toji spits, and the long string of saliva slowly trickles down from your clit to your pussy. You look at him full of awe and arousal at how irrationally hot that little trick was. Laughing at your reaction, he spits on his middle and ring finger before plunging them into your dripping pussy. Starting off slowly in a “come hither” motion, he watches as your eyes roll back at the sensation, using his second hand to toy with your clit. “Aww, my obedient little fuckdoll, looks so cute when she’s gonna cum.” FUCK, you couldn’t take it anymore, he’s too good at this. He didn’t even cum yet!

4:32 PM.

“Shiiiiiit!” You cry into the plush sofa armrest as you make poor attempts to squirm away from Toji’s firm grip on your wide hips as he pulls you back onto him. Your ass ripples as he speeds up his pace at an almost inhuman speed, your whimpering and cries growing louder. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I’m gonna cum!” Toji’s brutal pace finally started to falter, something that rarely happens…meaning he’s definitely close. He pulls out, and some of his precum mixed with yours spills out of you. “Not yet Princess, get up for me.” Seeing your dumbstruck state, Toji peels your dazed frame off of the armrest. He sits at the edge of the sofa, legs parted and sits you on top of him with your back to his chest and your legs spread on either side of his. “Theeere we go~”, Toji slides his throbbing dick along your pussy as you shudder, leaning your body back against his in a moment of recovery, resting your head back on his shoulder. He kisses your neck before moving to your ear to whisper, “Here’s what’s gonna happen…I’m gonna finish fucking your brains out, and you’re gonna cum again while I fill you up. Okay?” All you could do was sigh. “Nod, if you understand Princess…” you shake your head subtly still catching yourself. Toji noticed this, and gave you time before snaking his arm around your tummy. “You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” He slides into you, and you cry out, “Shhh, shh, shh, breathe. You’re okay.” His pace starts to pick up, “Ahhhhhhhhh~” “I knowww, Baby, I knowww, Fuck!” Toji’s words started to slur as he continued to fuck you, a creamy mess pooling at his lap as you both began seeing stars, “Fuuhhkkk you look so pretty like this, shit. You want me to cum inside of you, hm? You want me to fill you up? Turn you into my…..fuck…..my little cumdrunk slut?” “Unnnggggg fuck, Toji, Yeeeeesssss~” You couldn’t help yourself as the tears began to fall, you were in too deep (and so was he), and too far gone to know what the fuck was going on anymore. Your climax washed over you like a tsunami….so strong until you didn’t even realize you squirted all over Toji and went unconscious for 10 seconds. Coming to, Toji was already grabbing a blanket and water for you, “Good Girl, you did amazing cumming all over me like that. I’m so proud of you.”. You smiled, nestling into him as you settled down. Finally, a moment of peace. On the verge of nodding off, you couldn’t help but feel a particular unsettled energy. You look at Toji, who seems relaxed…but not the type of relaxed that someone that just had an orgasm should be. “Toji?” “Hm?” “You didn’t finish…did you?” He looks at you with a mischievous grin, “Not one bit.”

This is going to be a looong month.

[lemoncrushh]

Rain Rain

Summary: Lexie is on her way to visit her sister, and she's taking Harry on the road trip with her, planning to drop him off at his friend's house for a wedding. But the weather has other plans.

Warnings: Not much - this is pretty much fluff with just a little petting and making out.

Word Count: 11k+

A/N: This is your basic "friends with one bed" trope. Harry x Bi!OC, AU, written in third person. Originally written and posted in 2019. This was based on a request I had gotten back then (which I still had copied into my docs): no worries if you’re not down to write about this, but it would be amazing if you wrote about someone who is mostly into women but just has this love for harry like no other. (maybe smutty idk) Thank you to that original anon wherever they are now! This ended up being three short parts, but I've combined them into one.

The rain was pouring so hard and so fast, the pavement was nothing but a blur as Lexie gazed out the window at the parking lot. She was grateful she’d remembered her raincoat, but cursed herself for not bringing along her boots. Her sneakers were bound to be a saturated, wet mess even after the short jog from the car. She could feel her bare toes curling against the rubber soles, and with a bitter scowl she shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat.

“Lex?”

“Hmm?” she turned her head in slow motion to see Harry looking at her with a raised brow.

“You sure you’re okay with this?”

Lexie nodded, giving a hesitant grin. “‘s fine. No worries.”

With a short nod to the man behind the counter, Harry took the room key and covered his head with the hood of his jacket. Pushing the door open, he grunted at the volume of the rain, both the noise and the amount, allowing Lexie to exit the lobby first.

“I can’t believe they only had one room,” he grumbled as she passed.

“Harry, don’t worry about it,” Lexie assured him. “We save money this way anyhow.”

Harry lifted his head to check that she was smiling, her nearly ever-present grin lighting her face, even on a full shit day such as this. He grinned back, making his way down the sidewalk to the last room on the left. Rain seemed to pelt against them sideways despite the awning above their heads.

“Jesus, it’s cold though,” Harry heard Lexie mutter as she bounced on the balls of her feet, waiting for Harry to unlock the door.

Sliding the key into the slot, the light flickered green and Harry pushed the door open. Rushing inside, Lexie pushed her hood off her face and took a gander around the room.

“Not too bad,” she appraised, sitting on the bed and kicking off her wet shoes.

“I’ll go get the bags,” offered Harry.

“Oh shit, I forgot!” exclaimed Lexie. “Let me put my sneakers back on.”

“No, no, you’re fine,” Harry waved his hand. “Sit, relax, get warm. I’ll just be a second.”

Lexie made a face, but reluctantly took off her raincoat and sat back on the bed, watching Harry make a run for it. She could see him out the window, opening the trunk of her car to retrieve their luggage, laughing to herself as she recalled how he’d called it a boot when they’d packed it.

The trip was supposed to have been a short one. So far it was twice as long as it should have been, nothing but a string of disaster after disaster. They were way behind schedule. But if Lex was being honest, she didn’t mind. Harry had proven to be a great travel companion, entertaining her jokes and chipping in some doozies of his own. When they’d gotten a flat tire, she’d helped him change it and then bought him breakfast. When Shelby had called her cell unexpectedly, and she’d panicked, Harry had covered for her, saying she was driving and couldn’t stop to talk.

“Safety first,” he’d said, even though she had bluetooth in her car.

Rising from the bed, Lexie held the door open for Harry as he ran back inside, a bag on each shoulder. Dropping them down beside the television with a huff, he finally got his own look at the room.

“Sorry about the one bed,” he sighed, unsure how Lexie felt about having to share it. “I’ll take the floor.”

“Don’t be silly, Harry, it’s a King! And should you really be offering that with your terrible back? I won’t have you complain for the rest of the trip.”

With a chuckle, Harry unzipped his hoodie and shrugged out of it, tossing it on the nearby chair. Fingers ran through his damp curls as he stepped out of his shoes and placed them next to the door. Unzipping his duffle bag, he pulled out some dry clothes.

“Mind if I shower?” he asked, pointing to the bathroom. “Unless you were…”

“No, it’s fine,” replied Lexie, grabbing the remote. “You go. I’ll watch some TV and see how this storm’s doing.”

“No calling Shelby, right?” Harry raised a brow.

Lexie scoffed. “No! We talked about this.”

“Alright. Just making sure. I mean, I can’t tell you what to do, but if it were me…”

“Harry!” exclaimed Lexie. “Go! I’m fine, I swear. I’m not calling her.”

“Or texting.”

“Or texting!”

With a smirk, Harry turned for the bathroom and shut the door. Lexie turned on the television, finding the local weather. No surprise there was a big storm in their area, possible hurricane and flood warnings.

“No shit,” she muttered under her breath.

She was bummed she wouldn’t be at her sister’s tomorrow afternoon, but she wasn’t really in a huge hurry either. It was Harry she was more concerned about. He was supposed to be at his friend’s on Saturday for a wedding and Lexie was dropping him off on the way. If this storm kept up and they got stranded, they might not make it in time.

Getting bored with the newscasters, Lexie reached for her phone. She stared at it for a few minutes, reading the last text from her ex-girlfriend. Her fingertip ghosted over her name as she contemplated texting her back. The sound of thunder made her jump, however, and with a grumble she took it as a warning, just like she knew Harry would have done.

Setting her phone next to her, she scooted back on the bed and leaned against the headboard. She heard the squeaky turn of a faucet and the shower stopped. Moments later, Harry emerged, his hair sticking out in pieces around his head from towel drying it. Lexie couldn’t help staring at him, though she didn’t realize she was until Harry caught her in the mirror and wiggled his eyebrows. She swiftly turned her attention back to the TV where the news was on some story about a robbery at a local convenience store. She could hear Harry brush his teeth and spit in the sink before he turned for the bed.

“So how’s it looking?” he asked as he climbed onto the bed next to her.

“Huh?” Lexie half-gasped.

Harry chuckled. “The weather. How’s it look for us the rest of the night?”

“Oh. Um...possible flooding they said. Hurricane conditions.”

“Bugger,” Harry muttered as he settled himself against the pillow. “Hopefully we’ll be able to get back on the road in the morning.”

“Fingers crossed,” said Lexie, crossing her hands over her stomach.

The news broke for commercial, but Lexie remained focused on the television. Her hand itched to reach for her phone, but she resisted. Her nose had suddenly made her hyper aware of her sense of smell as she inhaled the scent of soap, shampoo and something else she couldn’t quite pinpoint. Harry smelled so good lying beside her, it made her mouth water. Her stomach did some weird flip, her face was warm to the touch, and she tried to put her focus on the 1-800 numbers flashing on the screen as she wondered from where on earth this feeling had emerged.

The truth was, Lexie had been attracted to Harry since the day they’d met. They’d had a few mutual friends, one of which had introduced them at a party for another. And while Lexie considered herself bisexual, she had almost exclusively been dating women for the last few years. In fact, she had just begun a serious relationship with Shelby when she’d met Harry at that party. They’d become fast friends which she was fine with, but she couldn’t deny there was some sort of spark there, at least from her point of view.

The sound of a hearty laugh made her turn her head abruptly, but she realized Harry was giggling at the trailer for a new comedy. Lexie watched his face for a moment, the way his eyes squinted when he laughed, the deep dimple in his left cheek. These were just a couple of things that she liked about him, though she could probably make a long list.

Seemingly aware of her stare, Harry mimicked her gaze, his eyes twinkling. Lexie smiled at him, trying to come off as casual and not like a staring buffoon.

“Are you gonna go?” Harry inquired.

“Huh?”

“The shower, love,” he explained. “Thought you were gonna go next.”

“Oh,” Lexie blushed. “Of course.”

Rising from the bed, she grabbed her phone before it slid off. Harry, however, was quick too and reached for it.

“Nope. Not bringing that with you.”

“Fine,” Lexie rolled her eyes. “Wasn’t gonna look at it anyway.”

Harry smirked as Lexie rummaged through her suitcase for something to sleep in, then stuck out her tongue before closing the bathroom door, making Harry giggle again.

Lexie let the hot water soothe her muscles as she stood under the stream. She hadn’t realized she’d been so tense, but she blamed it on the weather and Shelby’s texts. Her ex wanted to get back together, it was obvious, though she hadn’t said it directly. But Lexie knew it was over. It had been over long before they’d actually broken up. Still, she couldn’t deny that she missed her.

Lexie thought about the phone call in the car when Harry had answered her cell. Afterwards he and Lex had a deep, albeit short conversation about relationships and how sometimes things quit working because you’ve run out of road.

“You’ve just reached a dead end,” he’d said. “And that’s when you know it’s time to say goodbye, let it go and travel down a new path.”

Though she knew he was right, Lexie was hesitant about taking that detour.

As she shut off the water and grabbed a towel, she could hear singing. She grinned when she realized it was Harry in the other room singing along to a commercial. She giggled to herself as she got dressed, finding herself humming the tune as well. Harry was a joy to be around. He made every situation bearable, no matter the circumstances. Perhaps, she considered, her attraction to him was merely his light that shone from within, and not anything sexual. When she emerged from the bathroom, however, and found him sprawled out on the bed in a simple t-shirt and sweats, one arm behind his head as the glow from the television defined the lines and curves of his face, she dismissed that notion.

“Damn,” she muttered under her breath before crossing the room to her suitcase.

“What’s wrong?” Harry inquired, his eyes following her. He watched her pull out a small pouch from her bag and return to the vanity.

“Nothing,” she lied, taking out her toothbrush. “That thunder just...doesn’t sound good.”

“Yeah, I think it’s getting closer than further away,” Harry commented, shifting onto his side to face Lexie while she brushed her teeth. Resting his head in his hand, his gaze roamed down her body as he noticed her sleeping attire.

“Those are cute,” he said, not meaning to. It just slipped.

“Wha’?” she sounded, her mouth full of toothpaste. Spitting into the sink, she eyed him in the mirror. “What’d you say?”

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled. “I just...I like those pajamas. They’re cute.”

“Oh,” Lexie blushed. “They’re old. But thanks.”

She couldn’t think of any other reply. He liked her old, worn out flannel pajamas? She’d had them since before Shel-

Clearing her throat, she ran a brush through her hair before making her way back to the bed. She could feel Harry’s eyes on her as she climbed in beside him again, pulling her knees up to her chest.

“Wanna watch a movie or something?” she asked, her gaze on the TV.

“Yeah, I was gonna ask you that,” Harry replied. “Unless you’re too tired.”

“I’m not really ready for sleep yet. What is there to watch?”

“Actually, not much. Most anything I found worthwhile is halfway over and has commercials. And I don’t reckon we wanna pay for something, especially if we end up losing power.”

Just as he said the last sentence, another crack of thunder sounded and made Lexie jump.

“Um…” she muttered with a grimace, “maybe we should just pick whatever’s on and hope for the best.”

With an easy grin, Harry rose from the bed.

“While you decide, I’m gonna go get some ice and a few things from the machines, if there is any. What would you like?”

“I'd like you to stay here with me,” she blurted without thinking.

Harry’s smile grew wider as he slipped back into his jacket. Lexie bit her lip as she felt herself blush for the second time.

“I won’t be gone long,” Harry offered.

“But I just brushed my teeth.”

Harry chuckled. “Then brush ‘em again. You know you want snacks, I can see the look in your eyes.”

“Yeah,” muttered Lexie. “I guess I do.”

“Plus if we end up stranded, you’re not eating my leg.”

Lexie burst out laughing. “Good thinking. I’ll take some potato chips and any kind of cookies they’ve got.”

“Soda?”

“Juice if they have it. If not, something without caffeine. Do you need money?”

“Nah, I got it,” Harry said, grabbing the ice bucket. “Be back in a second.”

Lexie sat back on the bed and flipped through the channels before landing on a Spiderman movie. She’d forgotten if she’d seen that one before or not, but it didn’t really matter. It was more for a distraction anyway, from both the booming thunder outside and the thumping of her heart inside her chest.

Harry rushed back into the room in record time, his hands full. Dropping several items onto the bed, he left again only to return seconds later with the ice bucket. Lexie watched as the door shut behind him and he pushed his hood back, revealing his damp curls.

“Were the vending machines not covered?” Lexie asked, grabbing one of the Sprite bottles Harry had brought.

“They were, but the water was dripping between the slats right above them, so I got a bit wet. No worries, though.”

“Harry, why is nothing a big worry to you?” Lexie eyed him as she took a sip of soda.

Harry shrugged as he returned his jacket to the chair and kicked off his shoes.

“Pick my battles,” he explained. “We got food, drinks and ice. Mission accomplished. A little rain didn’t stop me.”

“A little rain?” Lexie scoffed. “Sometimes you’re just a little too Mary Sunshine.”

Harry looked at her as he sat next to her on the bed. “Would it make you feel better if I told you I stepped in a puddle and nearly hit my head on a metal beam when I heard the thunder?”

Lexie smiled. “Yeah. Kinda.”

Reaching for a bag of Lay’s, she could feel his eyes on her. Finally when she bit into a chip, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re one to talk.”

“What?” Lexie raised a brow.

“Mary Sunshine.”

“Excuse me, I am not Mary Sunshine.”

“Yeah, you are,” said Harry. “You were totally cool with taking me along on this trip. You were fine with us sharing a room here, even just the one bed. Right now, you seem perfectly fine with that soda instead of the juice you’d really wanted. Honestly, you’ve barely even said one negative thing the entire time. Except maybe regarding Shelby, and even that you seem to be taking in stride.”

Lexie considered his words for a moment before giving a shrug. “Maybe I pick my battles, too.”

“Fair enough.”

Taking another swig from her Sprite bottle, she looked down at her lap. “It might have something to do with present company, too,” she said softly.

Harry turned his head and looked at her, his eyes seeming to study her face, hoping she’d expand on her admission.

“You’re easy to be with,” she added. “You don’t judge me and you’re considerate and nice and...I dunno, I just like that about you. Rubs off on me, I suppose.”

Harry continued to look at her as she ate her potato chips, her eyes on the television.

“Oh,” he finally managed to voice. “That’s...really lovely, Lex. Thank you.”

Lexie gave him a soft, short smile before biting into another chip. The two of them ate and watched the movie in silence for a while, until the next commercial break. When Lexie rose from the bed to shake off the crumbs and throw away her trash, she heard Harry speak again.

“I like that about you, too, you know?”

“What?” she raised a brow.

“I like that you’re easy to be with. Fun, actually. You don’t complain a lot, and you almost always have a smile on your face.”

Lexie tried to hide her current smile but failed.

“I’m not sure that last part is true,” she commented.

“Oh, it definitely is,” said Harry. “I just noticed it earlier. I know you’re...still getting over...um...someone...but you still seem happy.”

“That’s a facade,” Lexie confessed. “Inside I’m a mess.”

“Really? Could’ve fooled me.”

Lexie eyed Harry with a smirk. “I guess I just did.”

Softening his expression, Harry nodded. “‘m sorry. You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

Harry studied Lexie’s face for a moment, wondering if she would change her mind. But when she didn’t, he knew not to push her. “Okay.”

Lying back on his pillow, he folded an arm behind his head. Something about his relaxed state made her want to cuddle with him and tell him all her problems. Shaking away the thought, Lexie lied back too, her eyes on the TV.

“I think we just grew apart,” she finally muttered.

“What?” Harry turned his head to look at her.

“Shelby and me,” she explained. “We just...got too comfortable, I guess? If that makes sense. It became boring. And when I get bored, I start to get restless.”

“I think that makes sense,” Harry commented. “You can only spread yourself so far.”

“Exactly!” Lexie nodded. She rolled onto her side, facing Harry. He blinked at her nearness, her wide-eyed expression.

“Like I’m willing to give myself to somebody, everything I have. When I love someone, they’re my world. But after a while it felt kind of one-sided.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said again. “How did Shelby feel about it?”

Lexie shrugged. “We would just end up arguing when I brought it up. She said she wasn’t like me, that she needs her space and time separate from me. I told her I understood that, but I still needed her to meet me in the middle once in a while.”

“And maybe more?” Harry asked.

“What do you mean?”

This time, Harry turned onto his side, so he was face to face with Lexie. “Maybe sometimes you needed her to make the full effort like you were doing, so you didn’t have to meet her in the middle at all.”

Harry watched Lexie’s eyelashes flutter rapidly until a tiny drop fell down her cheek. Without thinking, he lifted his hand to brush it away with his thumb.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he whispered.

Lexie shook her head, then reached her hand up and grasped Harry’s wrist. “No. You’re absolutely right. How did you know?”

Harry shrugged. “‘s not hard to figure out, Lex. You’ve worn yourself thin.”

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t try,” she choked.

“I know.”

“I loved her.”

“Course you did. Maybe you still do?” Harry lowered his hand, releasing it from her grip.

Lexie pursed her lips. “I dunno. I guess I’ll always love her in some way. But I think the real love was gone a long time ago.”

“You think she feels the same?” Harry asked.

“Well...she was angry when we broke up. But now she says she wants to get back together.”

“What do you want?”

Lexie sighed, running a hand through her hair as her eyes darted around the room. “I guess...I dunno I just don’t think she can change. She’s just...she’s probably gonna keep calling me…”

Harry stopped her by taking her hand, making her look at him again. “That’s not what I asked, Lex. What do you want?”

Lexie opened her mouth to speak but shut it quickly. Then biting her lip, she really considered Harry’s question.

“I just want to move on, to be honest,” she finally admitted.

“Then move on.”

A loud boom of thunder sounded then, once again timely as though it punctuated Harry’s words. Neither of them, however even made a move. They lay facing each other in silence, the movie credits scrolling up the ignored television screen.

Butterflies danced in Lexie’s stomach as she stared at Harry, his green eyes seeming to say unspoken words. Though she wasn’t quite sure what those words were, she had an idea. Swallowing hard, she loosened her hand from his grip only to thread her fingers with his. Harry dropped his gaze to their joined hands before his eyes darted back up to her face, landing on her mouth. Instinctively, Lexie licked her lips and in one split second, she felt Harry’s lips pressed against them.

They were so soft. That was the first thought that crossed her mind. The second was that she hoped he didn’t stop any time soon.

Thunder cracked once again as Harry released Lexie’s hand to cup her cheek. She sighed against his mouth, and that was enough for him to know it was okay to deepen the kiss. Lexie opened her mouth to him, allowing his tongue to meet hers. She felt something then - something more than just arousal.

Rain continued to pelt against the roof and the window, the sound so loud, one would think the glass might break and water would rush in. But at that moment, Lexie heard nothing but the beating of her own heart in her chest.

Harry shifted slightly then, resting his leg between hers as he laid on top of her. Their kisses became intense, an apparent hunger as though they couldn’t get enough. Lexie’s hands found the back of Harry’s jeans, her fingers looping into his belt at his waistband. She held on for a few moments as his hips began to buck against hers, causing a friction that drove her mad. When his lips finally left hers and dragged across her jaw, she gasped for air.

“Ha-harry…” she sounded. Swallowing hard, she blinked to get her bearings. “Harry.”

Lifting his head, he looked at her face, her eyes reading uncertainty.

“Sorry,” he breathed. “Jesus, Lex, I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

“No,” Lexie interrupted. “Don’t. Don’t be sorry.” She shook her head. “About anything.”

“Really? Then why…”

“It’s just…” she licked her lips. “I’ve never...been with a guy...before…”

Harry’s eyes widened as he tried to sit up, but Lexie pulled him back.

“I mean...not like this. I’ve dated men. Well...boys really,” she chuckled nervously. “But it’s been a while.”

“But have you…”

Lexie shut her eyes and shook her head. She heard Harry sigh and felt his body relax against hers. She felt a flutter in her chest at the idea that he hadn’t moved off of her. She liked the feeling of his body against hers. When she opened her eyes, she saw him eyeing her, his expression sweet and calm.

“I don’t wanna make you do something you’ll regret, Lex,” he said. “But you should know, I didn’t tell you to move on in hopes that you’ll sleep with me.”

Lexie giggled. “But I am sleeping with you.”

Harry rolled his eyes and smirked. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” Lexie said softly. “I also know I like you.”

Harry’s smile grew as he brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “You do?”

“Mhmm,” Lexie nodded. “The truth?”

Harry raised a brow as Lex grazed her fingertips across his back. “You’re the first guy I’ve ever had these kinds of feelings about.”

“What kind of feelings?” he whispered.

“You know…” Lexie hesitated. “Feelings like...I think you’re incredible and sweet. And I want to touch you. And I want you to touch me.”

Lexie felt Harry shift again, his thigh nearly pressing exactly where she wanted it to.

“Yeah?” he asked, his eyes studying her face intently.

With the flutter of her eyelids, she nodded again. “Please.”

“Lexie…”

Before she could say more, before she barely had time to process how sexy and deep his voice sounded when he said her name, his lips were on hers again.

Lexie shoved her pajamas into her overnight bag as she watched the light yet steady rain continue to fall outside. The weather wasn’t as bad as it had been during the night. The thunder and lightning had stopped, and the parking lot wasn’t flooded like Harry had predicted.

Harry.

She could hear his footsteps coming up the sidewalk. Taking her eyes from the window, Lexie turned toward the sink to grab her toothbrush and other toiletries. She heard the door open behind her and the sound of feet stomping to rid of their dirt or water.

“We’re all checked out,” he announced. “So...whenever you’re ready…”

“Okay,” Lexie called over her shoulder before turning around and dropping her toiletry bag inside her suitcase. Then she zipped it up and gave a tight smile. “All set.”

“Here, I’ll take that,” Harry declared with a nod as he reached for Lexie’s bag.

Sucking in her lips, Lexie decided not to argue, accepting Harry’s chivalry as she slid her arms into her raincoat. Then she followed him out to her car where she unlocked it and popped open the trunk. Lexie sat in the driver’s seat, the engine running while she heard Harry slam the trunk and rush to his side.

“Rain’s not so bad now,” he commented, rubbing his hands together, “but the temperature’s dropped.”

“Yeah, it’s cold,” Lex agreed, immediately regretting it.

The entire morning had been nothing but short, redundant replies to his comments or questions, punctuated with tight-lipped smiles and nods. Awkward didn’t begin to describe the thick air between them.

“Breakfast?” Lexie managed to ask when she shifted the car into reverse.

“Yeah, sure,” Harry said as he buckled his seatbelt. “Don’t reckon those potato chips and sodas lasted long after…”

Though his words trailed off, Lexie looked at him with wide eyes. When his gaze lifted from the click of his seatbelt and he gave a smirk, however, she felt herself blush. A small, nervous giggle escaped her throat as she shifted back into drive and turned out of the parking lot.

Still catching a flicker of a grin on Harry’s face out of the corner of her eye, Lexie quickly found a radio station that was to her liking, and she quietly hummed along. Truth was, she was nervous as hell, though she wasn’t quite sure why. She didn’t like it that Harry suddenly made her nervous either, because he never had before. He was her friend. But now he was…

Harry.

Her mind wandered to the night before, his soft kisses, his hands on her hips as his own pressed against her. He hadn’t tried to rush her. In fact, he had been completely gentle and respectful, knowing she was hesitant. Her own brain had been spinning like a whirlwind, unsure of how far to go. She knew she liked him and was attracted to him, that was a given. And the feeling of his lips on hers only confirmed that. But it had only been a short time that she’d been broken up from Shelby, her long-term girlfriend and the only person who’d even seen her naked in two years.

She’d let him touch her. When his hand had slipped inside her pajama bottoms, she hadn’t stopped him, though his eyes questioned her. She’d bit her lip and opened her legs, a sigh quickly releasing from her lungs when she felt his fingers on her. His gaze had been focused on her face the entire time while his hands had done the magic, making her throw her head back and moan as her legs shook. She thought she might have breathed his name, though she wasn’t sure. It was a possibility it had gotten lost behind the sound of the thunder. She did remember, however, the tender kiss he’d given her when she’d come down, his hands cradling her face as though she was a china doll.

“Lex?”

“Huh?” Lexie blinked. She blushed again, realizing her focus was not on the road.

“Looks like there’s a diner up there,” Harry pointed. “Unless you just wanted to find a McDonald’s.”

“Oh! No...yeah...that sounds great, actually.”

“I know I could go for some pancakes,” Harry commented, patting his belly.

Lexie smiled at him. “Yeah. Me too.”

Pulling into a spot next to a pickup truck, Lexie put the car in park and killed the engine. Pushing her door open, she felt something brush her hand. But just as she turned to look at Harry, she saw him quickly peel his eyes away and open his own door, shutting it with a thud.

The overly chipper waitress seated them at a table by the window. After ordering coffee and juice, Lexie pulled out her phone, prepared to text her sister when she suddenly frowned. Harry caught it, his breath stalling in his throat as he waited for Lexie to say something.

He watched her silently as she typed hastily on her phone. He wanted to snatch it from her hands and throw it out the window, but instead he waited. Despite what happened between them the night before, it was none of his business whom she was texting. But he really hoped to God it wasn’t Shelby.

The waitress returned with their beverages then, and Lexie laid down her phone with a smile. They both ordered a big breakfast with pancakes, but suddenly Harry wasn’t very hungry.

“Um…” he hesitated, reaching for his silverware. “Everything okay?”

“What? Oh…” Lexie shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it’s fine. I had a text from Shelby, but I ignored it. I was texting my sister to let her know I made it through the storm, and that I’ll text her again once I’ve dropped you off.”

Harry sucked in his lips and nodded, though he felt his insides release the tension they’d been holding.

“I’m sorry I had to tag along,” he muttered.

“Don’t be silly, Harry,” Lexie waved him off before dropping a straw into her orange juice and taking a sip.

“Well, if you didn’t have to take me to Brian’s, you could get to your sister’s sooner. You have to go out of the way.”

“Harry, it’s not out of the way. In fact, it’s exactly on the way. It’s fine.”

Harry watched Lexie’s eyes as she took another drink. He liked the way her eyelashes fluttered slowly, laying delicately against her cheeks. He thought of kissing her eyelids, her cheeks, her lips. He’d never been this awkward around anyone before, the morning after. But this wasn’t just anyone.

“Besides,” Lexie added, sitting back in her seat, “it was you that needed the ride. It just so happened that I could visit my sister at the same time.”

The waitress returned with their food, and for several minutes they ate in awkward silence. Or perhaps it was only Harry who felt awkward. He wanted to mention the night before, but he reckoned in a diner while eating pancakes was not the best place to bring it up.

“So, are you excited about the wedding?” Lexie asked, breaking the silence.

Harry shrugged. “I like weddings. But I’m not sure excited would be the right word.”

Lex giggled, making Harry look up from his breakfast. He’d come to notice that he really liked her laugh.

“Why not?”

“Well…” he began, swallowing the bite in his mouth, “Brian’s an old friend of mine. And I’m happy for him. His family’s always been great to me. Looks like he’s found a great girl. It’s just…”

Lexie looked at him, tilting her head. “Just what? You’re not jealous, are you Harry?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Not jealous. I just...he’s got a big family, lots of cousins and friends. I’ll be the only person there alone.”

“Oh,” Lexie mouthed. She wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Last time I visited them,” he added, surprising Lex, “I was seeing someone.”

“Oh,” she whispered again.

With another shrug, Harry dismissed his own thoughts, diving back into his pancakes. “Doesn’t matter, I know. It’s my mate’s wedding. It’s not about me.”

“That’s true,” Lexie nodded. “You’re just there to show support.”

“Exactly,” Harry said with his mouth full.

With an odd feeling in her stomach, Lexie managed to eat the rest of her breakfast. She mentally kicked herself for even bringing up the subject and vowed to stay quiet about it until they’d reached their destination.

Back on the road, Lexie gave Harry control of the music, letting him choose a playlist from her phone. Except for a comment here or there on the songs, the conversation was sparse. They were on a long stretch of highway with nothing much on either side but pasture and the occasional farm or herd of cows.

“So, um…” Harry hesitated a moment before deciding to just admit what he was thinking. “I enjoyed last night.”

“What?” Lexie turned her head quickly before returning her eyes to the road. She heard Harry let out a soft, deep laugh, making her weak in the knees.

“I was wondering how long it would take either of us to mention it, but it’s been hours now and...well, I reckoned I’d have to be the one to address the elephant in the room...or, um...car.”

Sucking in her lips, Lexie felt herself blush as she gripped the steering wheel.

“Sorry,” she finally muttered, stealing a glance at Harry. “Guess I’m not very good at this.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” said Harry. He paused before adding his question. “Did you enjoy it?”

Lexie felt her lips curl up as she kept her eyes on the road. Then tapping her thumbs on the wheel, she nodded. “Yes. Very much.”

“Good.” Harry sat back in his seat then, trying his best not to seem cocky. But she’d said she’d liked it. And that made him happy.

“I um...just want you to know…” he added, “it doesn’t have to be...weird between us now.”

“Oh, yeah, I know,” Lexie agreed hastily.

“It’s just...um...I’d really like to do it again, but if you feel-”

“If I feel what?” Lexie eyed him, her cheeks still pink.

Harry grinned, looked down at his knees and licked his lips. He was kind of enjoying the obvious effect he had on her, but he didn’t want to push it.

“Just...if you don’t want to, I’ll understand.”

“Harry, I um…” Lexie shifted in her seat, gripping the wheel. “Something else you should know about me. I’m not a one and done type of girl. I don’t...sleep around.”

Harry’s lips widened, his dimples deeper. “I know that, Lex.”

“But by the same token,” she continued, “I don’t rush into things either. I mean, I just broke up with-”

She stopped when she felt Harry’s hand on her elbow.

“Say no more,” he murmured. “I understand.”

Slowly releasing her grip on the steering wheel, Lexie lowered her arm to the seat, laying her hand next to her, palm up. Taking it as the gesture it was, Harry gracefully slipped his fingers through hers. Their hands remained like that through the next three songs as they both hummed softly along until stopping at the next exit to fill up on gas.

Harry had gone inside the food market to get a few snacks for the road while Lexie pumped the gas. Paying the cashier, he pushed the door open to see Lexie with her back to him, leaning against the driver’s side. It wasn’t until he got closer that he realized she was talking on her cell.

“I just can’t do it anymore, Shel,” he heard her say. “I just...I think it’s time we both moved on.”

Afraid he was intruding, Harry started to turn back to the market, pretending he’d forgotten something.

“Harry!”

Stopping in his tracks, he turned around again. Lexie beamed at him as she pushed a strand of hair from her face. He never thought she looked so pretty. Except maybe last night…

“What’d you get me?” she asked, jogging around the back of the car. Peeking into the paper bag, she raised her brows. Then she giggled, recognizing the potato chips, cookies and juice. “All my favorites.”

“Well, you didn’t get your juice last night so-”

Lexie planted a haste kiss on his cheek. “You’re sweet. I’m going to the ladies’. Be right back.”

“Hey, would you like me to drive for a while?” Harry inquired.

“If you like,” she smiled, handing him the keys.

Harry watched her practically prance into the market. He didn’t want to jinx it, but it certainly seemed like she’d gotten the closure she needed with Shelby. He was happy to see her with a little pep in her step.

Setting the groceries in the backseat, Harry put the key in the ignition. Then reaching back, he grabbed the two juices and placed them in the cup holders between the front seats. Just as Lexie returned to the car, Harry noticed it was sprinkling.

“Good timing, I guess,” remarked Lex as she climbed into the passenger seat. “I saw the dark clouds forming a few miles back.”

Switching on the windshield wipers, Harry pulled out of the gas station. As soon as they were back on the highway, he heard Lexie open the bottles then hand him one.

“Cheers,” she said with a sly grin.

Harry mimicked her, tapping his bottle against hers. “Thanks.”

“So, tell me more about this Brian guy,” said Lex as she pulled out the bag of potato chips and opened them.

Harry looked at her and then back at the road. “You sure are in a good mood.”

“Am I not supposed to be?”

“I dunno. I just thought…”

“That I’d be sad or still hung up on Shelby?” she asked.

Harry shrugged. “I couldn’t help overhearing.”

Lexie was quiet for a moment as she stared at the chip in her hand.

“It’s over,” she admitted softly. Then turning, she captured Harry’s gaze. “I ended it. Officially.”

Swallowing, Harry set his juice in the cup holder and nodded. “How do you feel about that?”

With a grin slowly spreading across her face, Lexie popped the chip into her mouth.

“I feel good about it,” she announced. “Great, actually. Is that awful?”

Harry shook his head. “Not at all. I’m glad you got the closure you needed.”

“Me too,” Lex agreed. Then like before, she laid her hand palm up across the console. Harry took it as an invitation and with a tiny flicker of a spark, he threaded his fingers through hers.

“Thank you.”

Harry wasn’t exactly sure what he’d done, but the look on her face and the touch of her skin was enough reason.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Now hand me some of those cookies.”

“Hurry before you catch pneumonia!” Lexie heard the woman at the door call out.

The rain had been coming down nonstop for the last couple hours. Though Lexie had been grateful to Harry for taking over behind the wheel, she felt guilty for making him drive through that grueling weather. They’d finally made it to his friend Brian’s house, or rather, his mother’s, but the rain was determined to be difficult, the wind only adding to the arduous driving conditions.

Closing the trunk of the car, Lexie followed Harry as he carried both bags up the steps of the large farmhouse, stomping his feet on the massive wrap-around porch. Lex had given Harry a short questioning glance when he’d grabbed her bag, but with the woman shouting and the rain pouring down, she decided not to argue.

“Virginia!” he shouted. “Nice to see you.”

“Harry Styles, get in this house this instant!”

Practically shooing him over the threshold, the woman wasn’t slow to notice the girl following behind.

“Hello, dear!” she greeted. “Welcome.”

Lexie barely got a thank you out before Virginia addressed Harry again. “Who did you bring, handsome?”

“This is Lexie, Virginia,” Harry answered as he dropped the bags in the foyer. “We drove here in her car.”

“Oh, I see,” Virginia beamed. “Lovely to meet you...Lexie, you said?”

“Well, it’s Alexis actually, but…”

“Oh, come here, give me a hug,” the older woman insisted. “I’m so happy for you.”

Lexie wasn’t sure if she was more embarrassed because she was wet from the rain, or because the woman obviously thought she and Harry were a legit couple. Catching only a slight twitch of nervousness in Harry’s reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall, she opted to once again leave it be. Virginia was certainly used to playing hostess, and from the aroma in the house, Lexie could already tell she was good at it.

“Styles, you made it!”

Lexie looked up to see a man around Harry’s height and build saunter down the stairs. Meeting Harry, he caught him in a tight embrace, murmuring thank yous and missed yous.

“Lex, meet one of my oldest, dearest mates, Brian Ramsey.”

“Nice to meet you,” Lexie nodded, extending her hand.

“Pleasure’s all mine.”

“And you already met his mother, Mrs. Ramsey, AKA Virginia, AKA the best cook aside from my mum.”

“AKA the one you never come to see anymore,” Mrs. Ramsey swatted at Harry with her dishcloth.

“I’m sorry love, I’ve been busy,” Harry smirked.

“Mhmm, I see,” she nodded, eyeing Lexie and then giving a wink.

“Well, c’mon, Harry, let’s go have a drink,” Brian gestured down the hall to where Lexie only assumed was the kitchen. “Pretty sure Pops, Jenny and Serena are back here.”

Eager to join him, Harry looked back at Lexie with a smile.

“Oh,” she mouthed. “Actually, I should probably get going.”

“What?” Virginia asked incredulously.

“Yeah, um...I was actually just dropping Harry off. I have to get to my sister’s.”

“Oh, honey, you can’t go out in this weather!” Virginia insisted. “It’s supposed to be raining all night, possible flooding. Maybe even a tornado.”

“Oh.”

“And the roads around here usually flood pretty quickly, so they close them off. You probably won’t be able to get out until tomorrow morning, at the earliest.”

“Oh,” she whispered again.

“Don’t worry about it, Lex,” Harry offered. “I’m sure Mrs. Ramsey won’t mind you staying over.”

“Of course not, dear!” she exclaimed. “Trust me, you’re not going anywhere in this.”

“I don’t want to put you out,” Lex started to argue.

“Nonsense! I have enough rooms, blankets, towels and food for an army!”

“Ugh, the army line again,” scoffed Brian.

“Hush, you!” Virginia said, daring him with his own swat from the dishcloth.

Reluctantly, Lexie followed the two boys through the hall and into a large open area with the kitchen to the left, and a family room to the right.

“I thought a heard a raucous out there!” announced the man sitting in the leather recliner. Rising from it, he quickly held his hand out. “Harry, good to see you, son.”

“Hey, Pops,” said Harry, giving him a big hug. “How’s life treating you?”

“Can’t complain.”

With a grin, Harry stepped back and placed his hand on the small of Lexie’s back. “Pops, this is Lexie.”

“Hello, Lexie,” the older man greeted with a handshake. Then placing his other hand on top, he leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Just so you know, he’s one of the good ones.”

“What are you telling her, Pops?” asked a young woman who’d just walked into the room.

“None of your business.”

“Lies.”

Lex eyed Harry who let out a burst of giggles.

“Hi, I’m Jenny,” said the woman. “Brian’s older but wiser sister.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“And that one over there,” she pointed to the brunette in the kitchen, “is Brian’s fiancée, Serena.”

“Not for much longer,” Serena sang, taking a cookie sheet from the oven and placing it on top of the stove. Then wiping her hands on her apron, she walked around the counter, holding out her hand. “Hi, so nice to meet you, Lexie.”

Lexie suddenly felt as if she was in a movie, one of those wholesome Christmas films that were shown on television every year. Everyone was so nice and hospitable, it seemed...unreal.

Brian emerged from the kitchen then with two glasses of wine, offering them to Harry and Lex. Lifting his glass, Harry proposed a toast to the happy couple, wishing them all the best.

After several games of cards, and a couple rounds of charades, in which Harry won both, plus far too many of Serena’s cookies, the evening had finally wound down. The wedding pair retired to their room upstairs and Mrs. Ramsey set both Harry and Lexie up with their own rooms, across the hall from each other. Lexie had already called her sister to tell her the situation, and that she would be arriving later than scheduled.

After brushing her teeth, Lexie opened the bathroom door to find Harry standing in the hallway. A smile slowly spread across his face as he took her in. His gaze suddenly made Lexie self-conscious, and she looked down at her ensemble.

“Different pajamas,” she remarked.

“I can see that,” Harry smirked. “I like those, too.”

Blushing, she bit her lip, then ran a hand through her hair. “Um, did you need the restroom?”

“Oh...yeah.”

As Lexie turned down her bed, a beautiful blue and white rose quilt, she found herself humming one of the songs she and Harry had listened to earlier that day in the car. A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth as she recalled the way he’d told her he’d enjoyed the night before.

Suddenly, a knock sounded behind her, and she looked up to see Harry standing in the doorway.

“Hey. Can I come in?”

“Of course,” Lexie gestured.

Harry stepped into the room, gazing up at the photos and paintings on the walls, then walked over to the dresser and inspected everything on it.

“The Ramseys are really nice,” Lexie remarked, taking a seat on the bed as she watched Harry.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “They’re like...my second family.”

“I can tell. They’re definitely fond of you.”

“Yes.”

“And it was very kind of them to let me stay. Even though it was mostly Virginia’s idea,” Lexie laughed. “I don’t think she was about to let me set foot outside again.”

Harry chuckled nervously in agreement. “She’s a tough one, that Virginia. What she says goes.”

Placing an old, framed photo back onto the dresser, he let out a sigh. Finally, turning around, he sucked in his lips. Shoving his hands into his pockets, Harry looked at the floor.

“Um...hey I know it’s kind of last minute, and you need to get to your sister’s and all…” he paused, biting his bottom lip before finally lifting his eyes to Lexie, “but I was wondering...and you totally don’t have to...if you’d like to stay...a little longer tomorrow...and be my date. For the wedding.”

Lexie’s eyes widened. She hadn’t expected him to ask her that.

“Oh!” she breathed. “Oh, well...I…”

Harry shook his head. “It’s alright. It was a dumb thing to ask.”

“No!” Lexie exclaimed. “I mean...no, it wasn’t a dumb thing to ask. I mean...actually…”

The corners of Harry’s mouth quivered slightly before his lips spread into a smile and his dimples appeared. He let out a tiny chuckle, causing Lexie to glare at him.

“What?” she asked.

“You’re as nervous as I am,” he replied.

Lexie blushed as she realized he was absolutely right. With a smile that nearly blinded Harry, Lexie stepped forward and took his hand.

“I’d love to be your date,” she beamed.

Lexie stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. While she wouldn’t call the dress exactly her style, she was grateful that Jenny let her borrow it for the special occasion. She liked the dainty blue flowers and flowing sleeves.

“I think it’s perfect,” declared Brian’s sister. “You look so pretty.”

“I do?” asked Lexie bashfully, her cheeks blushing a light pink.

“Definitely. Looks better on you than it ever did on me. Lucky we’re the same size.”

Biting her lip, Lexie ran her hands across her waist. She silently wondered what Harry would think.

“What about your hair?” asked Jenny. “Were you planning on wearing it up or down?”

Lex grinned nervously. “I actually hadn’t thought about it. This whole thing wasn’t planned at all.”

“Of course,” Jenny smiled.

“I usually wear my hair down though,” Lexie added, winding a strand around her finger. “What do you think?”

Jenny’s smile widened. “I have a great idea.”

Turning to her dresser, she opened the top drawer and pulled out a headband, bringing it to Lexie.

“What do you think of this?” she asked. The headband was simple, adorned with dainty flowers and leaves in gold metal.

“I love it!” exclaimed Lex.

With gentle ease, Jenny placed the headband on the center of Lexie’s head, allowing her soft, delicate hair to fall around it.

“Yes,” beamed Jenny. “Absolutely perfect.”

A knock sounded on the door then, and Jenny walked across the room to open it.

“Harry, you can’t see us yet,” Lex heard Jenny say. “It’s bad luck.”

“I thought that was just the bride and groom,” Harry chuckled from the doorway.

“Even so,” Jenny whispered. “I wasn’t quite finished.”

“With what?”

It was then that Harry spotted Lexie across the room, her reflection in the mirror as she looked down at her hands.

“Oh!” he sounded, his eyes wide.

With a sigh, Jenny stepped back and allowed Harry to enter the room.

“Wow, Lex, you look amazing!” he announced.

“Thanks,” she muttered, turning around to face him. Grabbing the sides of the dress, she felt herself blush again. “Jenny let me borrow it.”

“It’s lovely on you.”

Lexie and Harry seemed to stare at each other for a few moments until the silence was broken by Jenny’s voice.

“Shoes!” she squealed, nearly making Lexie jump. “What size shoes do you wear?”

“Um…” Lexie swallowed, “eight.”

“Aw crap,” Jenny scowled, snapping her hands on her waist. “I’m a nine. They’d be too big.”

“It’s okay.”

“I bet Serena’s your size,” she added. “I’m not sure if she brought any other shoes with her, but I could ask.”

“Really, it’s okay,” Lex chuckled. “You’ve done enough for me. Besides after the weather last night, I might be glad I’m in my sneakers.”

“Oh, that reminds me why I came up,” said Harry. “Your mum needs you downstairs. Something about a broken table and angry caterers.”

“Ugh,” Jenny rolled her eyes.

“Oh no, I hope everything’s okay,” said Lexie. “Maybe I should help.”

“No need,” Jenny held up a hand as she headed for the door. “When Virginia Ramsey’s involved, there is a way.”

“Send out an S.O.S. if you need us,” called Harry.

“Will do!”

Harry’s shoulders shook with laughter as his best friend’s sister left the room, leaving him alone with Lexie.

“Look at you,” said Lex, making Harry turn and raise a brow. “You clean up nice, Styles.”

Harry looked down at his suit, his hands on the jacket lapels.

“Wha’ this ol’ thing?” he smirked, causing Lexie to giggle.

Stepping closer to him, she reached for the cross around his neck, displayed in the center of his chest.

“I take it you’re not a tie kind of guy,” she remarked.

“Not particularly,” Harry grinned at her. “Why, do you think I should wear one?”

Lexie shook her head. “I didn’t say that.”

She felt his hand on her waist before he pulled her closer, his chest colliding with hers. His green eyes seemed to dance as his other hand slid under her ear.

“You look really pretty, Lex,” he said softly.

“Thanks. So do you.”

The corners of Harry’s mouth twitched before he leaned forward, his lips so close to hers she could feel his breath on them.

“Is it okay if I kiss you now?” he asked.

“I was beginning to wonder why you hadn’t already.”

Lexie gasped when Harry opened the back door, and she followed him out onto the large porch. It was trimmed with dangling lights and floral garlands that cascaded down the banisters to the large canopy in the backyard.

“Kinda magical, innit?” asked Harry, catching Lexie’s eye. She smiled and nodded.

“C’mere you two!” someone called from the yard and Lexie turned to see Mrs. Ramsey beckoning them. “I could use your help.”

Taking her hand, Harry lead Lexie down the steps and between the rows of white chairs to where Virginia stood.

“At your service,” offered Harry with a grin. “What do you need us to do?”

“Oh honey, don’t you look lovely!” exclaimed Virginia when she finally got a good look at Harry’s date up close.

“Thank you,” Lexie said shyly, looking down at her sneakered feet.

Her hand went to her forehead to brush a strand of hair from her face when she remembered the headband. Gently, she adjusted it, careful not to make a mess of it before the wedding as she caught the gleam in Virginia’s eyes when she smiled at Harry.

“If you wouldn’t mind, my dears,” said Mrs. Ramsey, “could you kindly stand outside the gate to greet the guests as they come in? Brian’s cousins are ushers, but I’d just like to have someone out there to make sure they’re entering on the right side, and no one steps in a mud puddle or anything.”

 “No problem,” Harry and Lexie replied in unison.

Squeezing her hand that he was still holding, Harry gave Lexie a wink before guiding her around the corner to the large fence that surrounded the Ramsey’s backyard. Then unlocking the gate, he released her hand only to push it open.

“So, we just stand out here?” inquired Lexie.

“Yep. Guests should be arriving soon.”

Twirling around, Lexie inspected the view of the backyard through the gate, getting an idea of what guests might see when they walk through.

“This is really a great place for a wedding,” she commented.

“It is,” agreed Harry with a nod.

“And convenient, too. They probably saved a ton of money.”

“You better believe it,” Harry chuckled. “And not just because it’s the Ramsey’s house. Virginia will find the best deal anywhere. She’s kind of famous for it.”

“Really?” Lexie smiled, intrigued.

“Yeah, if she can do it herself, or get Pops to do it, she will. If not, she knows everyone within the next three towns, and she won’t let them take advantage of her. She always gets her way.”

Lexie laughed. “She’s a pretty cool lady.”

The corners of Harry’s mouth twitched as he stepped closer.

“You’re a pretty cool lady, too,” he declared.

“Stop,” Lexie playfully swatted at him as he tried to put his arms around her.

“Too cheesy?”

“Hmm, maybe a little…” she bit her lip.

“Sorry,” said Harry as he managed to pull her closer. “I’ll cut back on the cheese.”

“No, it’s...it’s cute.”

“I really like you, Lex. And I’m glad you’re here.”

A big smile spread across her face as she slid her hands up his arms. “Me too.”

Harry was just about to ask which statement she was agreeing with when an older couple approached them from the front yard.

“Don’t tell me the wedding’s started already,” the man chided.

“No, sir,” Lexie began before she noticed the twinkle in his eye.

“Harry,” he added, holding out his hand. “Good to see you, young man.”

“Mr. McRay, a pleasure,” Harry greeted.

“How’s that beautiful mother of yours?”

“She’s just fine, sir, thanks for asking.” Harry reached for Lexie then, placing his hand on her back. “Lex, this is Mr. and Mrs. McRay, the Ramsey’s neighbors.”

“How do you do,” Lexie smiled.

“I do wonderful, pretty lady,” Mr. McRay said, giving her a wink and earning himself a poke from his wife.

“Charles is a big flirt,” she scoffed. “Don’t mind him.”

Lexie felt herself blush as Harry’s fingertips dug into her waist as he gently pulled her closer to his side.

“You two look lovely,” Mrs. McRay added. “I trust Virginia’s inside, running herself ragged?”

“Just a wee bit,” said Harry, making Lexie giggle.

“I better see if she needs my help. Hope to see you two later.”

“Enjoy the wedding,” smiled Lexie.

By the time the McRays made it inside the gate, a short line of cars had formed along the curb, some on the driveway. Lexie took a deep breath as she watched guests exit their cars and begin the walk up to the gate.

After greeting at least half a dozen couples and clusters of families, Lexie noticed something. Harry’s hand had remained on her back the entire time. Perhaps it was a silent reassurance that even though she wasn’t a member of the wedding party or even an originally invited guest, she was still very much a part of the day’s activities because she was Harry’s date.

His date. Lexie let the word roll around her brain for a moment while she watched him chat with someone else he’d known nearly all his life. She liked the word. It was simple, not too formal or labeling. He’d introduced her as his date a couple of times already, a big, dimpled smile on his face as he’d said it.

“This is my date, Lexie,” he’d beamed, his hand giving her another light squeeze.

She liked that he hadn’t said “friend”. Although she certainly was his friend, she always thought that word held little romantic value. Even Shelby would sometimes introduce her as her friend, after they’d been dating for months, and it would rub her wrong to put it mildly. It wasn’t that she thought she and Harry had crossed the line into more than just friends after just one night together, but…

“Lex?” Harry asked, making her blink.

“Yeah, sorry,” she swallowed. “What did you say?”

“I was just telling Jackson about our little adventure on the road to get here.”

“Oh!” Lexie’s eyes widened.

Harry let out a gleeful chuckle and leaned into her. “Not the motel part, love.”

Lexie couldn’t help but laugh in spite of herself, and when she found she couldn’t stop, she rolled her head into Harry’s chest.

“Seems she’s gotten a fit of the giggles,” Harry explained to Jackson who’d joined in on the humor of an obvious inside joke.

“I’m so sorry!” Lexie shouted, muffled from Harry’s shirt.

“I’ll meet you inside,” laughed Jackson. “Good to meet you, Lexie.”

“You too!”

Harry’s chest continued to shake with laughter as he gently rubbed Lexie’s back. Once Jackson was out of earshot, she slowly lifted her head.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she whined.

“Why?” Harry asked, an enormous grin on his face.

“It’s not that I thought you’d told him...it’s just...it’s the first thing that came to mind, and...oh, God.”

Grabbing the lapels of his jacket and burying her face in his neck, Lexie got a good whiff of Harry’s cologne and suddenly felt her legs go weak.

“You are so fucking cute, Lex,” she heard him say.

“I am?” she asked, breathing him in. His skin was so close to her lips, she wanted to touch it.

“Yeah. I kind of always thought of you as very confident and self-assured.” Harry’s free hand found the back of her head and began to lightly brush his fingers through her hair. “And you are, I find it very sexy. But this…”

“Hmm?” Lexie sounded when he paused.

“This is a different side of you,” Harry explained. “I dunno if it’s because of me, but...it’s like you have your guard down a little bit. And I think it’s very sexy, too.”

Her legs now jelly, Lexie shifted slightly until her lips met the warm skin on his neck. She pressed three soft kisses there until she felt him hum against her mouth.

“Lex…” he whispered.

Lifting her head, she saw a deep green in his eyes she’d never seen before. He brushed a tiny strand of hair from her face before cupping her chin. Just as he was about the lean forward, however, a voice behind him interrupted.

“Harry, son, they’re getting the wedding party ready,” announced Mr. Ramsey.

“Oh yes, of course,” Harry cleared his throat. “Be right there.”

Lexie gave another look of embarrassment that only earned her a grin from Harry. Then taking her hand, he kissed the back of it.

“C’mon, I’ll take you to your seat.”

“You know, I knew you were the Best Man, but I guess I wasn’t thinking about the fact that you wouldn’t be sitting with me. Makes me kinda sad.”

“‘m sorry, love,” Harry frowned.

“It’s okay. I’m being dramatic,” Lexie teased. “At least I get to watch you.”

Harry chuckled low as they reached the end of a row of chairs where Lexie took a seat.

“Who says I won’t be watching you?”

“Please, it’s a wedding, Harry. Nobody’s even looking at anything but the bride and groom.”

“Hmm...that’s what you think.”

With another giggle in her chest, Lexie watched Harry turn down the aisle and walk up the porch steps. Soon enough, the music started and Brian escorted Mr. and Mrs. Ramsey to their seats on the front row. Serena’s mother was escorted next, followed by Harry and Jenny, serving as the Best Man and Maid of Honor.

Finally, the wedding march began, and Serena emerged from the porch and down the steps, her arm looped with her father’s. Lexie immediately felt the heaviness in her chest as Serena walked down the aisle, her face all aglow as her eyes met Brian’s. Then turning in her seat, Lexie caught the look on Brian’s face and just about lost it. No matter how strong and self-assured she sometimes seemed, Lex was no stranger to crying at weddings. Perhaps she was a true romantic at heart.

Just when the ceremony began, Lexie heard a familiar sound and realized it was raining again. However, with the party safe under the large canopy, it was almost tranquil.

As the couple said their vows, Lexie’s eyes veered toward her date who stood behind the groom. Her insides nearly melted when she realized he was looking at her too. And when the rings were exchanged and a tear made its way down her cheek, Lexie caught Harry’s lips curl up until they widened into a smile.

When the happy couple was pronounced husband and wife, the guests clapped and watched them make their way up the aisle. As Harry followed, he discreetly held out his hand to allow it to graze across Lexie’s shoulder. As if the looks he’d given her during the ceremony weren’t enough, her entire skin was now on fire.

Moments later, as the reception began, Lexie had just finished chatting with a friend of Serena’s that she’d met earlier when she felt the familiar hand on her waist.

“Did you enjoy that?” he whispered in her ear.

“Did you enjoy mocking me?” she teased.

“Mocking you?”

“Yeah, what was with the huge grin while I was clearly in tears over the vows?”

“That was not mocking,” argued Harry. “I was happy.”

“Happy I was crying?”

“Well...kinda, yeah,” Harry shrugged.

“Meanie!”

“No,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I mean I was happy that it moved you that much.”

“Oh.”

“I told you I was gonna watch you,” Harry added.

“Glad to be your entertainment.” Lexie folded her arms and looked down at her sneakers.

“Heyyy,” he said, lifting her chin with his finger. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it was...it was a beautiful wedding.”

“It was. But it’s not over yet. We have a party.” Harry spread his arms out.

“Yeah...I can’t stay that long though.”

“Oh,” Harry dropped his arms and frowned. “Why not?”

“I just...I have to get to my sister’s.”

“I thought you had that all worked out.”

“Yeah, but I feel bad. I was supposed to be there a long time ago, and now I’ll only get like a day and a half with her as it is.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry muttered.

“Not your fault,” Lexie waved her hand. “I should...I should probably go ahead and get changed. Pack my stuff. Looks like the rain stopped, so I should get out before it starts again.”

As she turned toward the back porch, Harry grabbed her hand.

“But wait…” he pleaded. “We...we haven’t had our dance yet.”

“Dance?”

As if on cue, a slow love song began to play, and a few couples took to the dance floor.

“Please?” Harry held out his hand.

With a sigh, Lexie took it and followed him. They began to sway in each other’s arms, the music leading them.

“Thanks for coming with me, Lex,” Harry said low. “And for being my date.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I wish we...had more time.”

Lexie stared at Harry’s lips for a long while before shifting her gaze to his eyes which seemed to burn into hers.

“Me too,” she finally admitted.

“Yeah?”

Shutting her eyes, Lexie leaned forward.

“Harry…” she whispered. “I don’t wanna go.”

“What?”

“I mean...I still wanna see my sister, but...I don’t wanna leave you.”

“Lexie…” Harry breathed, lifting his hand to her cheek.

“Is that awful?” she asked when she opened her eyes.

“No.”

Harry’s face looked so serene and beautiful, Lexie couldn’t help but feel a sudden calmness, even though her heart was beating a mile a minute.

“I’ve had the best time with you,” she confessed. “I’m not ready to say goodbye yet.”

“Me neither.”

“Would it be...completely awkward or inappropriate if I asked you to come with me?”

“To your sister’s?” Harry asked.

“Yeah…” Lexie’s expression faltered. “Never mind, forget it. It’s ridiculous.”

“No, it’s not,” murmured Harry as he blinked slowly, pulled her closer and pressed his lips to hers.

Rain began to pelt against the canopy once again just as the fire she’d felt before returned full force and Lexie fell into the kiss. Their bodies continued to sway as their lips and tongues collided, until the song finally came to an end. Then leaning his forehead against hers, Harry gave her another of his dazzling smiles.

 “I’d love to,” he said.

Hope you enjoyed!

Please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[cynosfunnyjokes]

A Heart’s A Heavy Burden

Characters: Howl x Reader

Genre: Angst

Warning: None that I can think of.

Summary: Loving Howl Pendragon isn’t easy.

Word Count: 827

Summary: Not really edited or anything- I’m sure there’s mistakes all throughout but I wrote this while watching Howl’s Moving Castle for the umpteenth time lmao. No pronouns are used for the reader!

Apprenticing under Howl was such a joy- never was there a dull moment. He would brighten up the room with his smile- his laugh. It was so contagious that you and Markl couldn't fight the grins growing on your own faces.

Meeting Howl on its own was nothing but luck- you had found yourself in some trouble with the guards, their stupid remarks making you nothing but uncomfortable- and then poof, a stranger was there, whisking you away.

How strange that the random man was Howl himself- a well-known sorcerer and someone you looked up to. Of course, you nervously asked him to take you on as an apprentice, eagerly telling him about your interest in magic since you were young.

He simply laughed, smiling that bright smile everyone adored, and simply agreed to take you in.

All went well- he was a great teacher after all. Even with him being gone at random times throughout the day, you had Markl to spend time with to practice. And then there was Calcifer and his witty remarks. They never bothered you, simply jokingly throwing one back at him.

It didn't take long for feelings to grow for the mysterious sorcerer- everyone noticed it but Howl himself. Not that it was surprising.

Even Calfcifer noticed but never said about it, unlike Markl who made random remarks during the day in whispers, causing you to hide your face while the blush crept up to your ears.

Although one day, while cleaning up the firepit during the time Howl was away, Calficer clicked his tongue at you.

Raising an eyebrow, you turned your head to the burning ball of fire in front of you, silently asking him “what?”

“You really do love him, don't you?”

It was so sudden, it felt so random-

But that’s all he said. That's all he needed to say.

You were undeniably in love with Howl, and you could only hope the feelings were reciprocated. Maybe, just maybe they were.

All hope went down the drain the moment Sophie showed up. Suddenly, Howl wasn't around as much anymore- and when he was, he was with her.

It was always her. Sophie this, Sophie that.

Slowly, the feelings of sadness crept in, their sharp nails jabbing into your heart.

Is this what heartbreak felt like?

Eventually, you stopped leaving your room- opting to just study the days away instead of focusing on the pain residing in your heart.

Markl would stop by to check on you, dropping off food that would stay nothing but untouched, slowly growing cold as time passed.

Even though you appreciated Markl’s company, it didn't help that he often talked about Sophie- how cool she was. All this, all that.

It was all too much.

Howl never stopped in to talk- to check on you. Not that you expected him to. He was his own person who had his own things to do. He was a busy man after all. But still, you found yourself clinging to that hope- just to have it crushed.

Eventually, even Markl stopped popping in, choosing to set the food down on your table before retreating to Sophie.

It was fine. It was all fine. That's what you always told yourself.

But yet... Why did it hurt so much?

Pressing shaking hands against your tear-filled eyes, the only sound that could be heard was small sobs that you were trying oh so hard to muffle.

It was so unfair.

You wanted him to look at you like he does her. To experience the feeling of being wrapped in his arms, to feel his loving gaze.

But that would never happen.

There wasn't much point in staying there anymore- you refused to leave your room unless it was to quickly run to the bathroom, refused to even leave your bed unless it was necessary.

What was the point of staying there? Where the reminder of your unrequited love stayed?

It was raining outside, the soft pitter-patter of the rain on the window helping drown out any sounds that escaped you.

Bag in hand that was full of a few necessities and a small photo of you and Howl, you stopped to stare at Howl’s bedroom door for a minute.

Loving him hurt- but it wasn't something you regretted. If only things were different, maybe it would've been better. Such a false sense of hope.

Howl seemed happier with Sophie- even Calcifer and Markl were happier.

You weren't needed anymore.

So without a single thought, you turned on your heels and climbed out the hallway window to avoid Calcifer knowing.

Landing on the muddy ground below with a let thump, you looked at what used to be your home one last time, thoughts racing a thousand miles per second. You didn't want to stay and be reminded of how much happier everyone was without you.

So you left, the rain being your only company as you sobbed into the night.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

An Unfortunate Coincidence

In All The World, Chapter 1.1

Series Masterlist         Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: Frank Castle is just trying to focus on his stakeout and avoid thinking about his past. However, his plans are abandoned when he spots a familiar face approaching your apartment.

warnings: swearing, Frank and Matt being little shits, brief descriptions of Matt's labyrinth of internalized guilt, very short semi-smut scene (as always, MINORS DNI)

a/n: Ahhhh I was so excited to begin this new series that I accidentally wrote almost 7k for it (and it's not even done). Here is the first chapter that accidentally became a three-shot. I really hope you all like it! Please let me know if there's anything you wanna see in this verse!

w/c: 4k

“In all the world, there is no heart for me like yours. In all the world, there is no love for you like mine.” — Maya Angelou

Crouched on the damp gravel roof of some rundown apartment building, Frank tilted his head to stretch the muscles in his neck. After a few hours peering into his scope, it was starting to ache like hell. Roughly pinching the back of his neck between two fingers, he kneaded circles into it, attempting to alleviate the pain without changing his position. It wasn’t an optimal night for thwarting an armed robbery, given the shitty weather and lousy visibility, but he was determined to disband this particular troop once and for all. 

The cocky fuckers had been one step ahead of him for weeks and he’d finally found the next bank they planned to hit—at least, he hoped that would be the case. 

It wasn’t quite raining, but Manhattan was draped with a patchy fog and the condensation was enough to mist Frank’s face as he lay in wait. While the lack of a clear night would help conceal him and his guns, it also meant he had to get much closer to the site than he would have liked. More distance meant more time to pack up before he had cops on his ass. 

This particular location was especially irritating because the angle of his scope ran directly past your apartment. 

Seeing a warm yellow light in the window nearly left him a distracted, guilty mess. You were clearly home from work. Maybe cooking dinner? Or lounging on the couch he’d crashed on more than he wished to admit. He should probably send you a text to let you know he was still alive—but the thought of that made his body go rigid. 

Despite his lacking communication, and your profound exasperation for that specific trait of his, you never seemed to be out of patience for him. You were reliable, compassionate, and far too good for him to fuck up your life more than he already had. You were the only family he had left, and he was determined to keep a far enough distance to keep you safe.

Which is why his line of sight was currently positioned just past the edge of your apartment window—simultaneously shoving all his remorse deep down where it didn’t need to be acknowledged. Taking down a group of dangerous scumbags with a sniper rifle would be hard enough without being plagued with childhood memories and regret.

Normally, repression was a simple solution to this issue—they do say that practice makes perfect after all. However, mental gymnastics can only do so much to combat adrenaline. Hypervigilance had broadened his peripheral vision, his gaze sweeping the horizon automatically like a prowling animal, pupils blown wide as he absorbed every movement around him. Each flicker of a lamp bulb or ripple in the fog made his grip tighten, eyes flitting between the stimuli as if he was watching a ping pong ball bounce between players. Each motion only held his focus for a moment, his subconscious analyzing them for possible threats within a flash of a synapse before his attention returned to the task at hand.

Through the viscous haze draped over the city, another movement captured his interest. A dark form gliding over rooftops, diving over the beams of moonlight scattered across the vapor without a trace. Scoffing lightly, Frank rolled his eyes. Leave it to Red to show off without even knowing he had an audience. Fuckin' prick.

Chuckling to himself at the idea of firing a blank to give Altar Boy a scare, his laughter quickly faded as the Devil of Hell's Kitchen circled around, headed his way. Frank knew the guy had a freaky mechanism that allowed him to navigate without sight, but there was no way he'd picked up on Frank's presence from nearly a dozen blocks away, right? It wasn't likely that his bloodhound nose was THAT good at picking up the scent of gunpowder.

Skin crawling with unease, Frank's fingers traced over the worn handle of the blade tucked in his belt. After a few weeks being blue-balled by low lives, he wasn't necessarily opposed to a rooftop spat with the personification of Catholic Guilt. Fundamental differences aside, the kid could fight. And it wasn't like Frank had a line up of sparring partners these days. He was beginning to feel a bit rusty. 

To his dismay, the glorified-pajama-clad vigilante never reached him. Instead, he leapt onto the roof of a nearby building and began clambering down the fire escape.

With each of Red's steps, Frank's heart rate climbed, his ear drums ringing alongside his pulse. A shudder shot through him as he followed the other man's path, his body suddenly overtaken with malaise as he inched his scope towards the location he'd been trying so hard to ignore.

There was no way.

Red vaulted over a railing and down a story, his graceful trek slowing in pace.

There was no fuckin' way. It was an unfortunate coincidence. A stroke of Frank's continued bad luck, nothing more.

He was on your story now, close enough that Frank could see his haughty smirk, aimed in the direction of the glimmer Frank had successfully avoided all night.

“Keep movin', Red.” Frank muttered, muscles tensing with dread as he watched the masked lawyer hurdle over a balcony with a twist of his body, tactical shoes perching steadily on the edge of your cement outcropping. “No, no, no. Absolutely not, you asshole.”

Basking in the glow of your apartment window, Murdock broke into a roguish grin leaning backwards against the barrier, a few inches of synthetic stone between him and a twenty story fall. A shadow fluttered into Frank's vision, settling comfortably over Murdock's proud stance as a resident approached the terrace.

Sliding the window open with delicate fingers, your torso tilted out of the safety of your apartment, your beaming smile ever-present as Red posed for you. Strutting forward at a snail's pace, Frank could imagine the laugh that tumbled out of your mouth as you snatched him by the wrist and tugged him against the frame of the window. Time had seemingly slowed, Frank fixated on Matt's smug expression as he tipped his face towards yours.

As your lips met, Frank's vision flashed crimson, rage bubbling in his veins. Grinding his teeth furiously, Frank shoved himself out of his crouch, hefting his rifle onto an open canvas bag and stomping off.

“Oh, don't start with me.” You scolded gently as the lightbulb above your stove quivered uncertainly. Swiping a finger over the switch in a dramatic motion, the bulb sparked on the second try, sapping energy from the weak electrical current and illuminating your kitchenette with a soft warm light.

Flexing your sock-covered feet on the prehistoric checkerboard tile, you raised your arms above your head, arching your back into the stretch with a pleased groan. You'd done a lot of sitting today, hunched over stacks of papers scrambling to understand the new curriculum requirements sent out by your district in the humid closet-of-a-classroom you adored.

Pulling out your trusty, slightly crooked frying pan, you held it a few inches above the burner as you cranked the knob. Once the gas had lit properly, you positioned the pan just so and bustled about, readying the ingredients for a simple meal. Smacking the faucet handle, you tapped your foot to the beat of the song playing softly from your cheap speaker, letting the water run clear before rinsing a fistful of veggies in the feeble stream. Some of the produce was tossed straight into the hot oil, the rest you needed to chop first.

Thankfully, you were only making dinner for two, which meant preparation only took a few minutes. Once your vegetables were cooked and your noodles were boiling, you whipped up a simple sauce and brushed your hands together. Now came the tough part–waiting.

Matt's nightly routine typically made it difficult for you to spend the evenings together—not that it bothered you. Your evenings were typically spent shoving handfuls of chips into your mouth as you watched brainless TV or taking short naps to recover from the day. You were happy to continue those habits and feel truly rested when your boyfriend was finished being a hero for the day. This week was an odd one though, with late staff and board meetings pushing your normally-early supper back a few hours.

When you'd originally mentioned this change to Matt, his face had lit up, inspiring a smile of your own. After a minute of your pestering, he'd finally revealed his idea.

“What if I stay at yours this week?” His expression was soft, his attempt at a smug tone failing to conceal the jagged edge of his unvoiced worry that you'd decline, that he was being clingy—two insecurities you'd been steadily chipping away over the course of your eight month relationship.

Nearly tackling him with a hug, you had peppered his face with kisses, making him laugh. “Is that a yes?”

“That sounds perfect, Matty! I'll be dying to see you after sitting at conference tables all day.” You'd lamented, trailing a finger over his chest as it shook with a rumble of a chuckle.

“So you're saying I shouldn't practice my opening arguments for you? Detail the intricacies of mutual acquiescence and how it was displayed by the adverse parties?”

“Despite your attempts to confuse me with made up legal-sounding words,” Hooking your arms around Matt's neck as he laughed, you'd begun swaying slightly, rocking the two of you from side-to-side as you spoke. ”I'd happily listen to you talk about anything, love. You could describe the process of paint drying to me and I'd still enjoy our time together.“

Flushing slightly pink, Matt turned his face away from you with a scoff. ”Hmm, maybe I'll bring some of my old law textbooks by sometime and we can test that theory.“

Curling a finger around his chin, you gently pulled Matt's face back to yours so you could kiss him. “I mean it, Matthew. You can make anything interesting—it's one of your many gifts. And you've worked hard on this case! I'm happy to be your guinea pig.”

And you'd meant every word. Sitting here in front of your stove, you couldn't think of a better way to spend your evening than watching Matt in his element. As you stirred everything together in a pot over a low flame, your mind began to wander. Matt was wonderful, and attractive for many reasons, but the voice he used when addressing a courtroom? The thought of it alone brought heat to your cheeks. He didn't need to worry about keeping your attention, that was for sure.

The light rapping of a knuckle on your balcony window made you jump, your nose crinkling with slight embarrassment as you realized you were no longer alone—and Matt could probably tell where your mind was detouring from behind your fingerprint-smudged window. Scurrying to grant him entry, you couldn't help the excited smile on your face as you shoved the thick glass off of its sill.

Matt looked phenomenal, draped in black woven fabric that was just tight enough to accent his bulging muscles. Lines of off-white rope were coiled around his hands, trailing up his forearms like a thin pair of serpents. Though he was breathing heavily, he was smiling and didn't appear to be bleeding out or gravely injured.

“Am I allowed to come inside, or am I supposed to stand here so you can ogle me all night?” Matt asked gleefully, stretching his hips so his abs swelled against the long sleeve black tee he was wearing.

“Hmm, see I would let you in, but you'd make such a beautiful decoration..” You jested, grin only growing wider as the light from your apartment revealed Matt's blush. You loved watching his cheeks flush pink when you complimented him—his smug exterior faltering as he became slightly bashful. Deciding to cut his hammering heart some slack, you moved on from the praise. ”You're early, love.“

With a deep chuckle, Matt gave a one-armed shrug, striding towards you. ”I had a date.“

Scoffing out a laugh, you reached an arm out of your apartment, the cool outside air curling around your skin and raising the fine hair along it. As water vapor made contact with your skin, the tiniest drops of condensation beaded against your warm flesh. You reached for Matt, who was still a victim of the pitiful rain storm out on your terrace. Fingertips closing around his wrist, you pulled him towards you—other hand coming up to scratch at the base of his scalp when he was within range. “Matthew, we talked about this. You don't need to cut your deviling short to please me. I won't be upset if you—“

Cutting of your gentle chastising with a kiss, Matt knocked his forehead against yours, hands leaving the embrace to cradle your jaw. The dense fibers of the cords around his hands prickled against your skin, a much rougher feeling than the soft fabric of his mask against the bridge of your nose. His breath drifted over your lips as he spoke. “It's been slow. Promise.”

Nuzzling into his touch as his thumb traced over your cheek, your smile softly returned. “Ok, that's good. Hungry?”

As one of Matt's hands slid from your jaw toward your nape, the ropes rolled over your skin, scratching lightly against it. Fingers pushing into your flesh with a tad more heat, Matt smirked—his lips brushing over yours. “Starving.”

Matt nipped lightly at your chin and you stifled a giggle, kissing him sweetly before stepping back into your apartment. “I meant literally, Matt. C'mon, I need some food in me before you pin me down to mark me up.”

Towing Matt through your window with both hands clamped around one of his steady arms, you squealed as he lept over the threshold, gathering you into his arms in one fluid movement. Mashing his face into the side of yours, a low rumble sounded from the back of Matt's throat, as if he was purring. The tip of his nose was chilled, barely covered by the mask as he galavanted around in the unusually cool night air. He nestled you against his chest, burying his nose in your hairline just above your ear.

“I think we both know how much you want me to do just that, sweetheart. Are you sure you want to wait until after dinner?” His teasing voice was pitched down, sounding more like the Devil of Hell's Kitchen than Matt Murdock. A shudder crept down your spine, an exhale falling from your lips at the suggestion.

“Mmmm, I, uh, I thought I was. Now, I'm not so sure.” You murmured, warmth flooding between your thighs as Matt's teeth scraped the shell of your ear.

Chuckling darkly, Matt's hand splayed against the small of your back, his lips planting a kiss on your temple. “We'll have to see where the night takes us then. What did you make? It smells good.”

Matt broke his hold on you, taking a seat at your dinette without even acknowledging how aroused he'd just made you. His ability to trip your brain up with a few well-placed touches was dangerous, dammit.

Blowing out a slightly exasperated breath, you let your hand drift over Matt's shoulders before you lifted the pot from the stove. Using the pair of tongs you'd used to toss the vegetables, you plated two servings of the meal you'd thrown together. “Those peanut noodles you liked so much. I was craving them. But don't worry, I only gave you broccoli and edamame this time.” 

A few weeks ago, when you’d first found this recipe, Matt had enjoyed it—but only after you’d stopped him from choking down the mushrooms and bok choy mixed into the dish. The poor man was stifling gags as he bit into the vegetables, later explaining that they were on the list of “textures Matt can barely tolerate”. He had apologized profusely, not understanding why you weren’t upset with him for not enjoying the food without alterations. This time, you’d planned ahead. 

Clearly also thinking of your last attempt at this meal, Matt wrinkled his nose with a grimace. “Thank you. I'm sorry to be difficult.”

Rolling your eyes, you slid one of the bowls in front of him, using one finger to delicately lift the mask from the top half of his face. As you peeled the sweaty fabric off of his head, it revealed his mussed hair—the strands sticking out in little tufts after being mashed beneath the cotton for a few hours. You bit your lip to stifle a giggle, bringing your fingers up to smooth the mess. “You're not difficult, you're just human. And you have some impressive helmet-hair tonight.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. I heard this was how the kids were wearing it these days. Am I pulling it off?” He grinned at you, hands landing on your waist as you kicked a leg over his lap to straddle him.

“You look a bit like a newly-hatched chick in an incubator.” You snickered, humming appreciatively as he tightened his grip on you, pulling you flush against his chest.

“Darn. I was hoping to change up my style to something more modern.” Matt quipped, instinctively tilting his head up as you scratched at his overgrown stubble with your nails.

“I never said it looked bad, handsome.” You explained, nose rubbing against his as you moved in for a kiss. “You look as gorgeous as always.”

With a greedy noise, Matt's hands dug into the soft flesh of your stomach. His lips were relaxed, happily letting you slide your tongue between them. His skin was warm with exertion and want, his touches grappling and desperate as he pulled you impossibly closer.

Dropping your arms to rest on his shoulders, you threaded a hand into his hair, tugging lightly at it as he kissed you. Matt moaned softly, his movements halting like a cat who'd been scruffed. You felt a rush of pride as Matt went lax against you. Tipping your weight into him, the force shoved his spine against the back of the chair, the wood creaking in protest.

It hadn't even been a week since you'd last seen him, last felt him–but it was as though he'd been away for years. Each time he held you against him, expression soft with affection, butterflies swarmed your stomach. To the rest of the city, he was a ruthlessly fearsome vigilante. But with you, he showed his underbelly. Trusting you enough to be soft, and to want softness in return. It made you giddy, being one of a chosen few to know the secret truth about Daredevil. And you were immensely fond of the man behind the mask. 

With a gasp, you began to lose your train of thought as the building heat in your core grew uncomfortable. Rocking your hips against Matt, he tensed his thigh as you ground down on it, letting you take what you needed from him. Moaning softly while the friction from Matt’s leg rubbed pleasantly against your clit, you circulated your hips, swinging them upward with the intention of using gravity to help you ride Matt’s statuesque thigh–but the world had other plans.

A pounding knock startled you out of your passionate stupor. Flying backwards in surprise, you collided with the solid wooden edge of your dining table. Grunting quietly at the impact, you swiveled your head towards the door when the banging continued, your heart pumping furiously as your concern built. Matt's hands slipped between you and the injurous furniture, shielding you from worsening the inevitable bruising the sideswipe had caused.

Though his head was cocked, his eyes blankly trailing along your torso, searching for any damage you'd done, he was wearing a resigned expression.

“Who—” You started to ask, but a brusque deep voice called for you through the door.

“I know you're in there.” The cause of the disturbance was no longer a stranger, but that didn't fix the sinking feeling threatening to drag you through the creaky floor.

”One second, Frank.“ You grimaced, swinging yourself off of Matt's lap to open the door.

As your weight lifted off of him, Matt chuckled humorlessly. “Took him long enough.”

Hands flying to your hips as you spun on your heel, you narrowed your eyes at Matt. “You KNEW?”

Shrugging noncommitally, Matt pinched one of the abandoned forks between his fingers, tugging the bowl of noodles closer to him and stabbing the utensil into it. “I had a feeling.”

Scoffing incredulously, you shook your head as he popped a forkful of tepid pasta into his mouth. “How can you look like you're enjoying yourself right now?”

Matt smirked at you. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had the luxury of bearing witness to dinner and a show.” Attacking his dinner ravenously, Matt didn't explain himself further.

Sighing loudly in response to Matt's unprecedented ambivalence, you jogged to the door--opening it to reveal your VERY pissed off cousin. He must've been camped out somewhere for a while, given the rivulets of water dripping off of his face and clothes. The droplets trailed over his scowl, getting tangled in his beard on the way to the ground.

”Hi Frank.“ You greeted politely, arm shooting out to grasp the door frame as he took a deliberate step past you, eyes locked onto Matt's frame in the middle of your apartment. You might've been smaller than both of them, but you weren't feeble. Your well-placed grip held strong against the burly ex-marine, his glare pivoting to bore into you as you stopped him from storming into the apartment.

”Move aside,“ Frank ground out your name, eyes dark with rage.

”And let you bludgeon someone to death in my apartment? I'll pass.“ You snarked, your own anger over Frank's absence and the overwhelming stench of testosterone now shrouding your space coating your words.

Matt scoffed from behind you, making a sound of protest but you held up a single finger on your free hand. ”Don't you dare.“

Matt closed his mouth, turning his attention back to his dinner with a pout.

Nostrils flaring, Frank's chest was still poking into your forearm as he shook his head. ”I can't believe this. Him? C'mon kid, you're smarter than that. You can't shack up with this asshole.“

”I can do whatever I damn well please, Castle. In case you've forgotten over your period of absence, I am an adult who is capable of making her own decisions.“

A muscle in Frank's cheek twitched but he said nothing. Jabbing a finger into his shoulder, you pulled a stern look straight from your bag of teacher tricks, staring him down. ”I will let you through this door to talk but if either of you start brawling in my home, you're out on the street, got it?“

Confidence wavering, Frank's posture relaxed ever so slightly, looking like an attack dog who had been given a hold command--frustrated and miffed, but no longer snarling. He nodded once, stepping back to allow you to retract your arm.

”Matthew?“ You asked over your shoulder, still blocking the doorway as you waited for both parties to agree.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart. What was the question?“ You didn't need to crane your neck to see Matt's proud expression, feigning innocence as he silently challenged Frank from afar.

You and Frank both snorted in disbelief. Frank's lips opened but you beat him to the punch. ”Try again, Murdock.“

With a displeased grumble, Matt muttered his assent. ”Fine.”

Ha. Teacher voice: 1, unruly vigilantes: 0.

Nodding in approval, you finally released your rigid stance, standing on your tiptoes to peck Frank on his damp cheek. “C'mon in. I'll grab you a towel.”

Taglist: @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @gracethyomen @xxdrixx

[lethalchiralium]

Hii! I've a request. Could you make a one-shot about Ghost having a foreign gf and hearing her talk in het native language on the phone or something and he is kind of impressed or something like that:) (srry for my bad English)

Thank you in advance and have a great day!!:D

Complete | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

a/n: i wrote this with a shot of malibu and i am now three hours into my shift, let’s fuck around and find out. (thanks for the request, it’s so cute.)

warnings: OOC!Ghost (obvi, i’m writing him so he’s always OOC), Fem!Reader (was requested), cussing, mentions of sex

It was cold in England, rain hit his windshield so hard that Ghost could hear it over the radio. He contemplated pulling over until it got better, but the temptation of sleeping in his own bed with his girlfriend curled into his chest was the only thing on his mind. That and the fact that he wanted to empty a clip into Makarov’s head.

He pulled his beat up truck into his driveway, his fingers tingled with the small thought of her - a smile and a quip that would put him on his knees. He put it into park, opening the door and jumping out. Rain immediately drenched him and he knew that she would scold him like a dog, but he wouldn’t care; just as long as he can hear her voice, he would do anything.

He pulled his dufflebag from the backseat, slamming the door before jogging towards his house. There were lights on inside, he could see it through the window even with the curtains closed. He fumbled in his jacket for his keys, pulling them out and quickly shoving the silver key into the lock. He pushed the door open as soon as it was unlocked, ripping his key out and stepping into his home, out of the rain. He stomped his boots against the mat, kicking off the mud and rain but also trying to alert you to his presence.

He put his dufflebag on the floor next to the mat, he bent down and began to unlace them.

He heard your voice before he saw you. He looked up from unlacing his right boot to see you, in a black robe with your phone pressed to your ear. Your smile was perfect, eyes wide with surprise as you moved the phone from your ear. You dashed forwards and held out your hand, to which he promptly took it in his own. He pressed a masked kiss to the back of your hand, you mouthed, “Missed you.”

“Missed you too, Little Bird.”

You fluttered like a bird just like he had said, bouncing on the balls of your feet and wiggling your shoulders a little as you responded to the person on the phone with a quick quip in your native tongue.

If Ghost could ever listen to one thing for the rest of his life, it would be you speaking in a language he’s not familiar with - any of them that you knew, being a translator in a historical society and college. He sat there, both boots unlaced and kneeled on the front door mat, holding your hand and watching her as you had a lively and quick conversation in a tongue he almost never hears anymore. It saddened a small part of him, it was truly a sight to behold when you were able to speak with anyone who knew the language. You would light up like a star and babble on and on, he couldn’t make sense of any of the syllables but that never mattered to him.

He watched you with awe in his eyes, all of the stress from the last handful of weeks he’d been without you had disappeared completely. And it was only a few more moments of you saying goodbyes and it was gone, his heart sort of dropped. He hated that you never spoke it with him when he was home.

You threw your phone in your robe pocket as soon as you ended the call, your now free hand reached for the bottom of his rain soaked mask. He nodded in approval, you were quick to pull it off and crash your lips to his. You tossed it somewhere behind you, hand squeezing his. His own free hand went up to your cheek, splaying fingers across your skin as he began to stand straight up. He pulled apart from you, toeing off his boots and gazing at you. “Why don’t you ever speak your language to me?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, questioning. “What do you mean?”

He cleared his throat. “You never speak your native language with me. You talk at me in other languages, but never the one you always talk in.”

“Simon,” You drew out his name, moving to place your hands on his sort of damp cheeks, thumbs threading across white scars. “Well, you can’t talk back to me in my language. I love to talk with you in English, I love hearing your voice.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “My voice? Nothin’ special ‘bout it. But yours- Yours,” His hands settled on top of yours, prying them from his face as he spoke, “You could speak to me in your language every second of the day, and I’ll love it. Justa hear you talk to me like that.”

Your eyes widened, you bit your bottom lip while a smile made itself known upon your face. “What if I just want to talk to you with English?” His face sort of dropped, disappointment flashed in his eyes but you hurriedly laughed, moving to hold his hands in your own. “I’m just kidding, my love.”

“I think I know how to make you talk.” His hands pried from yours, immediately coming to settle on the back of your knees. He stood, lifting you as you squeaked in surprise. Your legs immediately wrapped around his waist, hands hit right on his collarbone as his teeth nipped at your lips. His eyes kept your gaze as he whispered, “I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t even be able to speak English, you’ll be beggin’ in your language.”

———

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[huggybearhughes43]

Oh my I had no idea you wrote for Lyon girlies too!!!!!

Will you please write an smut where Alex has been waiting (y/n) to be single for ages, and when she’s finally single he takes time to make her feel like herself again, (the waiting game, he has to contain his boner every time he sees her so he has to jerk off in the bathroom 😂)

And when the timing is right, Alex is very gentle usually but gets dominant one day when her coworker who’s very attractive tries to flirt with y/n and ends up marking her up everywhere to make sure the whole world knows he’s y/n’s??

You belong to me

Alex Lyon x Fem! Reader

Warnings- smut, jerking off to photos, raw dawgin, fingering, marking, kindaaaa semi public/ PDA

Summary- in the ask

Word count- 2.1k

Rushed footsteps followed by a loud banging from Alex’s front door alerted him. He had just gotten out of the shower, a towel around his waist and one resting on his neck as he rushes to the front door. A million possibilities rushed through his head, was it a woman in distress? A kid running from a possible kidnapper? That’s how loud and rushed those knocks were. Alex swung the door open and looked at the girl in shock.

It was his best friend, y/n. Her mascara leaked down her face in streaks, her dark red lipstick smudged. He thanked anyone and everyone for the towel around his waist. The towel was the only thing hiding the hardness growing under it. It was horrible, he knew it. That he got hard from his best friend’s look of despair. The soft patter of rain turned into a downpour and that’s when he realized he’d been standing there just staring. He steps to the side to allow his now soaked best friend to walk in.

She rushes in to shelter from the rain, holding herself in her own hands to keep from shivering. Alex was just about to ask her about what happened when she snapped, what was one’s dry eyes watered again. She sobbed as she spoke, “He fucking cheated on me.” Alex’s face heats up with anger, “what?” Is all he manages to get out. “I mean, I mean- I walked in on him balls deep in another girl! In my bed! What did I fucking do to deserve this?!” Her eyes puffed and the tears fell down her face.

His jaw clenched and he began to pull her into a hug. It was only then when she was pulled into his warm chest that she realized he was near naked. “Ew,” she sniffled as she pulled away, “put some clothes on.” Alex cracks and smiles at her words and mocks them before turning to go into his bathroom where he had his clothes still sitting out for after the shower. She’s been to his home about a hundred times, he trusted she’d make herself comfortable on her own.

He stepped into the bathroom and closed the door, dropping his towel. He looks at himself in the mirror, the hardness almost unbearable. He double checks that the door is locked before wrapping his hand around himself. His other hand catches himself on the counter, stabling his body as he pumps his cock. He almost draws blood from his own bottom lip in attempt to keep back his moans. Alex reaches over to grab his phone, pulling up y/n’s instagram and scrolling to a bikini photo she’d recently posted.

He imagines the dirtiest things possible about the photo to help himself over the edge. He groans and turns a bit to pump his cum into his toilet. He stands there breathless, in shock about what he just did to an innocent photo of his best friend. Alex blocks everything out as he gets his clothes on and walks out the bathroom door like absolutely nothing happened. Y/n looks up at him from the couch, her cheeks bright red from what she used to wipe her tears. Alex laughs at her choice in tissue, a paper towel. He couldn’t blame her though, he didn’t own tissues and he was locked up in the only place that had toilet paper.

Alex walks up to her and takes the paper towel. He pulls out his sleeve to cover his fingers as he uses it to dry her tears and clean off the remaining smudged mess of mascara. “Won’t you ruin your hoodie?” Y/n manages to speak through her dry, cracked voice. “What?” Alex truly didn’t hear her, he was too distracted by her pretty eyes and rosy cheeks. “Your hoodie- the mascara will stain it.” Alex just shakes his head with a smile. “You’re more important than my hoodies.” He finishes up cleaning her face before pulling away. Y/n gives a weak smile and a “thank you”.

“I can sleep on the couch if you need a place to crash. My beds pretty comfortable.” Alex shrugs, fixing his hoodie. Y/n smiles excitedly, “really?!” If she’d been standing Alex was sure she’d be jumping for joy. “Yeah” he laughs, “beds all yours”. Alex knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep in her own bed after seeing what she did. He figured whenever she was ready, that he’d go to her place and help her deep clean it. Y/n stands up and excitedly rushes to his room. Alex smiles as he hears the springs on the bed post as you lay down.

That’s how it went for about two weeks. After what she saw she hadn’t been her happy self, having days where all she wanted to do is sit in Alex’s bed and cry. And that’s exactly what she did, Alex asking her if she needed anything frequently, making sure she was taken care of. He lost count of how many times he’s rushed into the bathroom to fix a boner she caused, but he’d never admit that. The first time it happened it was unexpected. Alex was leaned back on the couch with legs spread. He was watching recaps of a game from during the season, not focused on anything else.

He was focused until y/n walked into the room in a short red dress and black heels. Alex looked at her wide eyed, her hair was done and light makeup was laid upon her face. “Is this cute? I mean-“ she crosses her arms in a pose, “if you randomly saw me at a party would you try to get my number.” He grew hard, and fast, not even realizing the obvious tent in his sweatpants. But y/n sure did, her eyes dropping to Alex’s lap. Her face reddens and her arms drop, “I’ll take that as a yes.” Alex groans in embarrassment, grabbing a pillow to hide his bulge.

“Oh no, don’t hide it now.” She says with a boost of confidence, walking closer to Alex. She grabs the pillow and tosses it to the side, taking a seat on his lap. She hovers herself over his bulge and smiles. Alex is still confused, maybe even a little convinced that he was just having a wet dream. “Alex,” she laughs and cups his face. Before he could think about anything else, he presses his lips to hers softly. His hands drop down to her hips, pulling her to sit down on his lap fully.

Alex pulls away for a moment even though he doesn’t really want to. “Y’know you don’t have to help me right?” He looks up at her and she smiles, “I want to…” Alex opens his mouth to say something but before he could y/n presses her lips to his once again. She begins to slowly grind her hips against the bulge, his grip on her hips tightening. One of his hands loops behind her back and tugs her to lay down on the couch. He hovers above her, their kissing getting more sloppy and needy. Alex moves his hands down to bunch up her dress at her hips before pulling it off of her completely. His breath hitches and he becomes painfully aware of his boner when he sees that she had absolutely nothing on underneath.

“Did you want this to happen?” Alex peppers kisses along her collarbone. She gnaws at her bottom lip and nods, “I wanted it to happen… so bad…” she tangles her hands into his hair. He smirks against her skin, only pulling away to rid of his own shirt. “Alex” she whines and tugs at his sweatpants. He smirks and sits up to tug them off along with his boxers before crawling back on top of her. “Needy fucking girl.” Is the last thing he says before connecting their lips again softly. Alex pulls away for a split second to coat his fingers in his own spit, pressing his lips back to hers as he brings them down to her needy cunt.

She whines into the kiss, pushing her hips up for more friction against his fingers. He pushes his tongue into her mouth the same exact time he pushes his fingers into her sopping cunt. Her eyes roll into the back of her head in pleasure. She takes a second to ground herself before pushing at his chest. He pulls away and looks into her eyes as if looking for an answer. “Alex, I don’t wanna cum like this. I want you in me.” She says with pleading eyes. Alex smirks playfully and nods, “I got you baby, I’ll take care of you.”

He pulls his fingers away before lining himself up with her. He looks up at her to make sure she was okay with it in which she eagerly nods. He holds her hip with one hand and holds onto the couch with the other. Alex nestles his head into the crook of her neck as he enters her. They both let out shaky moans, not caring anymore to hold them back. In Alex’s mind this was what heaven must’ve felt like. He’d been waiting for this for years, since the first day they met. Alex lets out a throaty groan as he begins to move.

In no time the thrusts that he tried so hard to be soft turned hard and sloppy. She let out whines as she scratched her nails to his back in pleasure. Her pussy fluttered around him. She had to admit, it was the fastest a man has ever made her this close. “C-can I cum?” She manages to mutter through her moans. “Baby, you never have to ask.” He mumbles into her shoulder and with those six words she releases around his cock. With a few more thrusts Alex pulls out and lets his warm ropes of cum release over her lower tummy.

Alex takes the responsibility of cleaning the two of them up. They spend the rest of the night cuddling on the couch, watching their favorite movies. Y/n was resting on the couch on her back while Alex laid on her chest, a blanket pulled up to cover the both of them. Y/n lazily rubs his back as they watch a movie, they giggle through the night making jokes and teasing each other until they eventually fell asleep.

That’s how it led to this, about a week later. Y/n dressed in a nude skin tight dress with short heels and a purse. Her hair was slicked back and a professional looking makeup look on her face. Alex walked out of the bathroom in a suit and tie. Y/n smiled at the sight and walked up to him to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for coming to the event with me.” She smiles up at him and he shakes his head. “Don’t gotta thank me, pretty girl.”

With that, after a short car ride they arrived at the function. Y/n got straight to mingling with her co workers and their families. Alex was attached at the him, holding her with his arm around her hip. They ate dinner there, drank wine, and the night was coming to the end. The amount of times that y/n had introduced Alex as her boyfriend made his head go fuzzy. Y/n was talking to one of her older co workers, a lady in her late 50s, when a conventionally attractive guy walks up and barges himself into the conversation.

Alex didn’t let this go unnoticed but he ignored it for the most part. Y/n introduced Alex to the guy as her boyfriend like everyone else but the guy ignored it. Alex huffed and rolled his eyes, clearly the guys attitude was bugging him. Y/n turns around and looks at Alex, reassuring him it’s okay with just her eyes. She turns back to the conversation, it goes smooth. Well, smooth until the guy decides to flirt with her. Oh, the flirting did not go unnoticed with Alex. Alex squeezes y/n’s hip and speaks out, “I’m gonna steal my girlfriend for a moment.”

Alex tugs her into the family bathroom, shutting and locking the door quickly. “Alex, what’re you doing?” Y/n giggles as Alex lifts her to sit on the sink. “You belong to me.” He dips his head to nip at her neck. “Ouu, I didn’t think you were the jealous type.” She giggles again, but this time it turns into a moan as he sucks at her pulse point. Y/n leans her head against the mirror as Alex scatters marks all along her neck and jaw, dark and vibrant at the same time. Once he was done he steps back and smirks, admiring his work. Alex helps her down from the sink and opens the door for her. “Maybe now he’ll know who you belong to now.” He bites his lip, staring at the marks as she happily walks out the door.

[neyswxrld]

stormy weather

Echo, no pairing

summary: Echo has a low and is in a lot of pain after his physical therapy. Wrecker is there to help. Set after TCW S7 E1-4.

warnings: derpessed feelings, hopelessness, phantom pain

words: ~1400

a/n: hello everyone! here's another fic for @summer-of-bad-batch! this time i could even bring in three different prompts: "you're a bad liar.", battle scars and the bonus prompt light in the darkness. it's been a long time since i wrote something for echo, i hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST

Physical therapy was horrible.

He hated it with all his guts.

His legs hurt, they burned, and he felt like they were going to fall off. But the worst thing was: he couldn't make it feel better.

Hell, he didn't have those legs anymore and still they made his life so much more painful.

Pump, the physical therapist, tried to help him a lot and even though his tips and advice sometimes did wonders, he still hurt.

Then there was his stomach - he had problems adjusting to the amount of food he needed. When he was on Skako Minor, he was mostly fed with fluids. Now he needed to chew his food again, taste the grossness of it, and just swallow down the weird consistency.

Also - his muscles hurt. Pump always said he needed to build them up, so he can be fast and strong again. And he knew he had to. He really wanted to. But on some days, he just felt like he couldn't.

Today was a day like that.

Pump made him do some exercises with an odd looking thing. He never did those exercises before. Not even in ARC training. And even though he tried so hard, at some point he just couldn't do it anymore.

He felt like a failure. Like he wasn't good enough. How would he ever be able to keep up with everyone? Especially with the Batch? He could learn all their crazy plans, but how could he contribute anything, when he just wasn't strong, fast and persistent enough?

Pump had tried to cheer up him up, but Echo almost fled out of the training room.

He needed to get away. At the same time, he already felt the embarrassment creep up his neck. He felt like a shiny, on his first day on a Venator-class Star Destroyer, where everything was just overwhelming even though they already learned how it would be like on the inside. In theory, at least.

He was stumbling along the walls, trying to find his way to the Batch's barracks.

He just wanted to be alone and sulk in his hammock, until he felt better about his sorry self. He was so disappointed in himself and his lack of ability.

When he reached their barracks, he slipped inside. Relieved, he realized that he was alone. The others seemed to have training, or were up to something else.

He sighed once, before making his way over to his sleeping place, not bothering to turn the lights on.

From outside, he could hear thunder. The rain rattled against the large windows, and not for the first time he could laugh about the irony of Kamino. He felt like the weather was mirroring his conflicted and sad feelings. The storm outside was just as unpredictable and unhinged as the one inside him.

He curled up into a small ball, trying to disappear in himself.

When his hands... His hand touched his metal knees, and his scomp made a small 'clink' noise, he sighed a second time.

Never did he expect to turn out... like this, when he finally passed his final test, such a long time ago. With Fives, Hevy, Cutup and Droidbait.

He knew it was practically hopeless, but he still always imagined how all of them made it out of the war alive. Together. He liked to daydream about what would happen after all of it. After all the pain, and fear, and grief. He was sure Droidbaid would start a bakery one day. Cutup and Hevy would open a gym, just to train like maniacs themselves. And Fives probably would have traveled a lot. He always wanted to try and see new things. Just about his own future, Echo wasn't sure. But he soon realized, it wouldn't matter anyway.

After Rishi, after Hevy's, Droidbait's and Cutup's death, he realized that all their dreams and hopes were indeed meaningless.

He always thought he would during the war.

He was so sure he would, when that shuttle exploded on Lola Sayu.

He never knew what life would have brought for him, but he never would have guessed to turn out as a cyborg.

He almost didn't hear how the door opened behind him. Just when Wrecker's face appeared in his sight, he realized that he had company.

"Hey, Echo. Back again already?" the brawler asked and grinned down at him.

Echo looked back with big eyes. "Yeah," he nodded.

"So soon, too? Thought it would take another half an hour at least. How was it?" Wrecker started to talk to him, patting the side of his hammock.

Echo blinked a few times.

"Yeah... I-... Pump decided we should take a break. It was... great," he murmured and looked around, just not to meet Wrecker's eyes.

Wrecker stared at him for a few seconds, not moving an inch.

"Are you feeling okay?" he then decided to ask.

"I? Y-Yeah. I'm fine," he tried to assure his new brother, and forced a light smile on his face. It didn't reach his eyes. He knew that.

Wrecker knew, too: "You’re a bad liar."

He sighed again. "I know," he whispered.

Wrecker carefully stepped over and took a seat next to Echo, making the hammock swing back and forwards a few times.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked and put a hand on Echo's metallic calf. He couldn't feel the warmth of Wrecker's fingers, couldn't really feel the pressure. It was almost as if they weren't there at all.

Echo looked at Wrecker. At his younger, bigger brother, who seemed so happy and joyful all the time. He was so strong and gentle at the same time. And when Echo looked into Wrecker's face, at the scar and his milky eye, he just knew he could talk to him. When someone could understand what he was going through, even just in a slight way, it was Wrecker.

"It's just hard... Adjusting and stuff," he almost whispered.

He saw how Wrecker's thumb was moving up and down, swallowed, and took another breath.

"Physical therapy feels like torture. I can't- I just can't really do anything like I could before. I'm weak, and exhausted so fast. And I know it takes time, but it just takes... so long," he started to play around with his scomp, "and everything hurts."

Wrecker nodded, with an understanding look in his eyes.

"I know it's hard. And it's never going to be like before again. But we can try. We can try to make it easier. To make it better. And to make everything feel okay again," Wrecker said. "Healing isn't easy. It's hard and it's exhausting. And it's not just a straight line up. It's like a road full of holes and bumps and stones. But you have to try to jump over them, Echo."

Echo looked up at him with teary eyes. Wrecker's expression was so honest and genuine, that he didn't doubt a word he said.

"I know it's hard, but you have to keep going. I know you can. And if you need help, we're always here for you," Wrecker ended.

Echo nodded. He knew, but everything just seemed so hopeless sometimes.

"What helped you the most?" the former ARC-Trooper wanted to know.

A small smile appeared on his brother's lips.

"My brothers. The Batch," he said, and his smile grew even bigger.

"Every time I felt like I was at the bottom and couldn't do it anymore, they were there. And they pulled me up again. I couldn't have done it without them," he confessed, and Echo's heart warmed a bit by that.

He smiled at Wrecker, and he realized that everything just felt a little lighter.

The storm in him seemed to calm down a little. The clouds made space for a small ray of sunlight.

He still had aches everywhere, and he still was way too exhausted. But at least he felt a little spark of hope in him, like a light in the darkness. Warm and cozy, and ready to get even brighter.

Wrecker's words felt good, and he knew he could seek out the others whenever he needed them. Even Crosshair.

He knew everything would be going to be okay again. He knew he could do it. He knew he would be up and kicking again, even if it would take some time.

Sometimes he just needed a little heads up.

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST

@isthereanechoinhere96 @trixie2023 @freesia-writes

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

COMFORT- M. MURDOCK

Pairing: Boyfriend! Matt x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 850

Summary: matt helps comfort you during a panic attack

Warnings: panic attack, anxiety, sensory issues, mentions of getting sick, praise, lots of fluff

Notes: i wrote this while having airport/ airplane anxiety this morning, as i woke up bright n early so i had a lot of time to think. then my flight got cancelled, rebooked, then cancelled again. so im stuck here till tomorrow :) (i want to cry. also airport wifi sucks so bad btw)

He could hear your heartbeat miles away. 

Fast. 

Thrumming so hard it was as if it was a motor engine, constantly revving but instead of speeding off into the night- it sputtered. 

Your breaths were fast. Irregular. Panting raggedly, as if you were a dog.

 Hands clutched to your knees, a steady creaking against the old hardwood as you rocked yourself in a ball on the floor. 

The two of you left for the airport in less than an hour. Matt had taken care of all the flights, him and Foggy triple-checking everything to make sure everything was booked, purchased and on time. Luggage was packed for your little getaway planned in Central America, zipped up tightly waiting by the door. 

But you remained put on the floor, feeling the grooves of your long nails dig into your skin, pinching little crescent moon shapes as your lungs struggled for air. 

“Sweetheart?” he called from the doorway, shaking the rain from his coat off as he hung it up to dry. 

No response. 

Your tongue felt like millions of weights were pulling it down, inflaming it so you were unable to speak. Nothing but dry saliva coated your mouth like a thick paste. 

“What's going on love? Can you explain how you’re feeling?”

 He knew there was no point asking whether or not you were okay when clearly- you weren't. You were having a panic attack, something that you got very often. Changes in your routine tended to set it off, or things like big crowds or loud noises. 

Matt knew your mind was racing with endless possibilities of what could go wrong. You had expressed them to him last week. 

What if we miss our flight? Or there is too many people and I’m trapped? Or I feel sick and have nowhere to go? Matthew what if our flight gets cancelled? Or the gates? There's going to be so many people there, all so stressed and non-self aware. 

Something was wrong when you called him Matthew instead of Matty. That was always the first indicator he picked up on.

 “‘m just anxious.” you whispered softly, voice low and rough as if you had just discovered you could talk for the first time. He softly padded over to a window, opening it just a smidge so fresh air could sneak through the crack, and the sound of the rain pattering against the glass was amplified.

 “Can I touch you sweetheart?” he asked politely, crouching down next to you. 

You nodded. 

Warmth spread through your body as his large arms wrapped around your body, shielding you from the outside world. “Okay. Let's just breathe together okay? Just follow with me.” 

He took a deep inhale through his nose, to which you shakily followed. A deep exhale escaped from your lips as you followed the rise and fall of his chest, breathing in his comforting smell as your fingers made there way to twist and tangle in the fabric of his shirt.

 “Thats it, atta girl. You're doing such a good job!” he praised, letting you cling to him as you slowed down your breathing- expanding your lungs again. 

“We’re going to take this one step at a time okay? It’s going to be okay, I’m never going to leave your side. Security is the scary part. Then we just wait in a quiet part until we get on the plane. And it’s just a two hour flight, and you've done much longer car rides than that.” 

“But what if I’m sick?” you asked timidly. 

“Then we’ll deal with it when it happens. We’ll scout out all the  washrooms and there is one on the plane sweetheart. I’ll hold your hair back I promise.” he joked, making you sniffle as you giggled. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“Okay.”

 “Good. Let’s just get some water into you, and we can get your headphones and fuzzy sweater for you to wear. It’s going to be just fine angel.” he kissed the top of your forehead, stroking your cheeks with his thumb, the callouses on the flesh of his fingertips bringing you a sense of comfort. 

You watched through slightly clouded vision as he swiftly went over to pour you some water from the Britta you nagged him to buy, and you heard the pills rattle from the bottle as he dropped a gravol or two in his hand. 

“I’m tired.” you murmured. Your thumbs were bleeding, and you felt the sticky blood smear as you tried to stop it. 

“I know baby. You can sleep soon. I promise.” he assured, coaxing water down to quell your thirstiness as you swallowed the ginger pill.

 “I need my headphones.” you said, attempting to find your balance as you wobbled up to your feet. 

“I have them here sweetheart.” he smiled, grabbing them from the luggage- leaving them out for you just in case. Siding them over your head, the world was slightly muffled and you exhaled. 

It was quiet. It would be quiet. And you could do this. 

“Ready?” he asked. “Ready.”

 “Good, cause we have sunshine and margaritas waiting for us.”

[under-cotton-and-calicos]

Fungi and Fae

NB Fae x AFAB Reader

AN: I wrote this last year while I was in the mood for fall. I'm a bit late for Valentine's but here's some fluff (and smut later in part two)!

Word count: 1.6k

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊Part Two (to be updated)𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

"You are looking devilishly beautiful today, m'eudail." 

"I appreciate it." You mutter, eyes scanning your surroundings for brown caps or yellow growths. After years of gathering, you have grown quite adept at it. 

“Won’t you spare me even one glance?”

The autumnal rain serves as a wonderful humectant for mushrooms- they come bursting forth from the ground and wood in vivid browns, yellows and striking black, well, the edible ones at least. A few of the local birds migrate for the season, leaving the woods serenely quiet. In their place, papery field maple seeds dance through the air like a set of wings carrying invisible bodies. Shades of red and orange permeate the woods, and even though you have looked out at the sea of colour countless times, the intensity of their hue and atmosphere always takes your breath away at the beginning of the season. It is your favourite time of the year, and it would always be much more enjoyable if it weren’t for your buzzing companion.

“I attended the most wonderful ball the other day, yet it was sorely lacking in good company. Would that you were there-”

“Your kind would have made me dance to death. Literally.” You quip, hiking your skirt up and stepping over a dead log. Conversation, if you could even call the slinging of words between the two of you, comes as naturally as breathing to you in the presence of Aetyn. Your grandmother had warned you about their kind since you were but a babe, cautioning you against their trickery. You were glad that she had trained you on how to handle them as it came into good use whenever you came out to forage.

Never accept gifts. Don’t stare at them for extended periods of time. If you encounter one, be gracious but maintain a boundary. You leave offerings of cream and pasties out for them, and wear a bell in the ribbon tying your hair.

After years of being around Aetyn, however, you have come to doubt the veracity of several claims. In the beginning they had attempted to ensnare you in all sorts of ways, fairy rings, gifts in the form of decadent chocolates and precious gems, wordplay. It all flowed over you like water. You presume that they gave up after the first two autumns.

Early on, you had accidentally gazed at them. It was hard not to- they have fine features so different from those of humans. It was as if fae were sculpted from marble, perfect and polished. Their smooth skin, hooked and noble nose as well as their androgynous beauty caught your gaze like a fish to bait. Nothing happened to you though, they just stared at you quizzically and asked if they had something on their face. Nonetheless, you still remain slightly guarded around Aetyn.

“Aetyn, would you ever consider chasing after a more naive, vulnerable maiden?” He’s quiet for a few seconds. You can almost hear the little cogs turning in his head.

“...but they don’t have your sharp tongue, or your bewitching-”

With a gasp, you clamber over to a massive queen bolete, brushing leaves and dirt from its cap before plucking it, its stem breaking from the earth with a satisfying crunch. You place it into your basket among a handful of porcinis, morels and chanterelles. Before you can stand and continue, you notice Aetyn laying belly-down on the grass with their head in their hands, long pink hair ostentatiously trailing down their shoulder.

“You have a look in your eyes when you find a good one. You smile so wide-” they have a sparkle in their eyes, you think you see their legs kicking in the air

“You’re so pretty.”

For some reason, the compliment feels oddly genuine, different from the other pet names that he piles onto you. Sensing the heat rising up your neck you look away, fussing with the mushrooms in your basket and wandering off to the clearing ahead. You’ve gotten used to Aetyn’s careless flirtation- they had used it as a tactic to trick you so you never take it to heart. Something about the look in their eyes strikes a chord within you this time, though. A jumble of strange, foreign emotions stir in your chest, so preoccupied are you with your thoughts that you make a near fatal mistake.

“Be careful!” 

Suddenly, an arm wraps around your midriff and tugs you backward. You’re leaned forward, torso tipped precariously over a circle of mushrooms. Gingerly, Aetyn gathers you into their arms, pulling you upright and a few steps away from the fairy ring.

“It wouldn’t do for you to fall into the snare of another fae now would it?” In the circle of their embrace, you are acutely aware of their body against yours even through your shirt and your coat. Your eyes are drawn to their lashes- pink just like their hair, so fair that you had never noticed just how long they were, fanning across their rosy cheeks. Aetyn’s gaze trails down the features of your face and lands on your mouth, hands sliding down your shoulders to your wrists. The feeling of his skin on yours is surprisingly humanlike, soft and comforting, but what ever made you think it would be otherwise? The urge to say something…or to do something-

A light ring and plink snaps you out of your reverie. Tearing your eyes away from them, you twist around to see your ribbon and bell on the ground. Aetyn steps away from you, the usual ease and gracefulness gone from their lithe body. They bend over, picking the delicate ribbon up. Your fringe has come loose, the two neat braids threaded to the back of your head by your grandmother undone.

“May I?” Aetyn pushes back the hair that obscures your vision. You nod, taking a seat on a cushion of brown leaves.

Their fingers carting through your hair are tender, deft as they expertly do up the braids and secure them once more. It feels…good. The warmth of their fingers, which you have watched pointing and gesturing many a time, seeps into your scalp. For once, the two of you are silent and you realise that you are wholly unaccustomed to the quiet whenever Aetyn is around. You’ve just grown used to their chatter like the tweeting of a little bird hovering over your shoulder. 

“It is done.” 

You are unable to see it, so you run a hand over the back of your head and feel the braids just as they were when you left home. They really are surprisingly good at it. Your tongue slips loose, from the intimacy in that moment or the fluttering in your chest, you do not know.

“Thank y-” You slap a hand over your mouth, unable to stop the panic from bubbling and frothing over. You look at Aetyn warily but regret it in the exact same moment, because you can see your distrust reflected in their eyes. The wide grin plastered onto their face falls and they look away from you. Whatever little shreds of trust that they’d hoped to have built up with you had blown away in the wind, they must think. 

It’s the first time that you’ve seen them look hurt and the sight claws at your heart. A few moments of unbearable quiet pass before you dust off your skirt and pick up your basket.

“I-I think that’s all I need for today.”

As the both of you walk through the lush woods, your mind is racing. With just one move, you’ve upended any semblance of kinship you shared with Aetyn. What were you going to do? Do you even want to do anything about it?

Just as you near the bend leading to your home, you come to the panicked conclusion that it would be awful to end the day this way. Aetyn has had every opportunity to capture you with trickery today, yet spurned it each time. Considering the seasons of your…relationship, you feel like you have shunned them. Summoning courage, you take a deep breath before spinning around so abruptly that Aetyn jumps.

“Today…was nice.” you bumble, acutely aware of how awkwardly your mouth forms the syllables. Your free hand twists the fabric of your shirt hopelessly.

“It was nothing. I am honoured to have your company.” They respond politely with a smile, eyes downcast. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish for a few seconds before

“Th…Th-thank you!” As soon as the two words leave your mouth, you squeeze your eyes shut.

This is it. I’m sorry for being such a foolish girl, grandmama.

What feels like an eternity passes and yet, you haven’t somehow been turned into a beetle, or been bound to servitude to a diabolical fae for the rest of your meagre mortal life, or anything really. It was quite anticlimactic. 

Instead, you feel a rush of warmth in the air and the bristle of tree branches bustling against their neighbours and the sweet call of a bird somewhere. And you hear laughter- Aetyn’s laughter, bright and rich which makes your chest brim with weight and ache. 

Your eyes still closed, a hand tugs gently against the nape of your neck and a pair of feather-soft lips plant a kiss on your brow.

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” He cradles your face in his hands. You feel compelled to lean into them but you remain rooted in place.

“Thank you.”

You place your basket on the kitchen counter, moving to don your apron and get started on dinner when your grandmother shambles into the room with her cane in hand.

“That’s a pretty flower in your hair,” she squints through the glasses perched on her nose, “wherever did you find it at this time of year?”

A hand flies to the back of your head, fingers tangling with little stems and soft, small flowers tucked into your braids. Your heart beats like the wings of a hummingbird.

“Oh my.”

Your grandmother peers at you with mirth.

“You have the look of someone in love, dear.”

[poraphia]

"Stupid Student Things"

wilbur x student!reader 410 words ~ 8.17.23 a/n ~ I've noticed a lot of fanfic authors are going to school, especially college. I'd like to kindly raise my hand and say that I am also partaking in such a struggle pff. So here's a little comfort fic I wrote bc the email sorting was just getting so annoying.

Do you love me even when I hate being a grown-up?

“Bullshit,”

I clicked on the mouse, reading through an email.

“more bullshit,”

I clicked on the “unsubscribe” option on the top of the screen.

“Fuck— Even more bullshit!”

It was safe to say that I was exhausted.

I groaned, pushing my feet against the desk before rolling across the hardwood floor. Emails were hard. Being responsible for yourself was hard. Hell, even being far from a warm fresh meal from my own parents was hard. Every muscle in me tensed involuntarily for I was stressed beyond relief.

“Hey, honey, are you okay?”

I looked over my shoulder to see Wilbur, poking his head through the door with a curious look on his face. He was wearing a jumper a little bit too big for him with some sweatpants. Perfect loungewear for when you basically have nothing to do all day. I sighed, turning my chair toward him and outstretching my hands, requesting his grasp. Obediently, he walked toward me before bending down and wrapping his long limbs around my balled-up body.

“What’s going on…” He asked softly, rubbing the back of my neck. The touch of his slender fingers soothe a majority of my nerves.

“I’m just not ready for school again.. Especially when this is all just— so new to me. I don’t understand anything that’s going on.” I vented through quiet mumbles as I buried my head into the crook of his neck. He hummed a bit before picking me up from the chair, placing me on the bed before crawling up right next to me.

I snuggled deeper into his embrace, feeling his warmth engulf me to battle off the cold air conditioning. Gingerly, he ran his fingers through my hair, carefully knotting out the unkempt strands. He smelled of freshly brewed coffee and rain after a storm. I deeply exhaled, letting all my stress go in just one breath.

“You got this, sweetheart, I know it. It’s kind of hard now, but you just need to get the hang of it. I’ve seen you go through the most challenging struggles. You know you’re stronger than you think, right?” He tilted my head just slightly so that I was facing him now. Our knows just barely touching. Slowly, I nod. He smiled, lifting his head a bit to give me a peck on the forehead.

“You’re going to do amazing things in the future, (y/n). Just give it one step at a time.” He whispered.

[artofkhaos404]

"Dating Edgar Allen Poe"

Bungo Stray Dogs

🖤SFW🖤

Drop any headcannon requests in my ask box or the comments, I'd love to do them! My fandom masterlist can be found at the bottom of my top pinned post.

_________________________________________

× Poe is a certified workaholic; total perfectionist. When it comes to his writing, whether it's a novel or some obscure poetry, you can get his attention on nothing else until it's exactly as he first envisioned it.

× Thus, there would be days he's working on a project and can't seem to reach those impossibly high standards. On these difficult days, when he's moping around being hard on himself and declaring he will abandon his career, it's up to you to comfort him. Remind him that his work is amazing, and so is he.

× Because that's his love language: words of affirmation. This man EATS IT UP when you give him reassurance, compliments, anything. He's having a low self esteem day? Just read over his shoulder, praise the intricacy of the written words and flirt. He'll be beaming.

× Poe is just as sweet and considerate when you have low self esteem days, maybe even more so! He's not the most socially aware, since he daydreams so much, so you'll have to let him know if you're down. When you do his response is always "I cannot imagine what for! You are as the moon in the night sky, the flowers of the valley." Corny? ABSOLUTELY. He talks to you like an 18th century poet. You thought it was weird at first, but now it's totally endearing.

× His love style is flamboyant; a traditionally romantic lover. Late night strolls and candlelight dinners- but he always does it his way. His favorite walks with you are in the rain, when you both dress in heavy jackets, you curled against his arm, under the umbrella. The candlelight dinners are always lit by black candles.

× Obviously, he's goth. If you aren't, he doesn't mind... but if you are, he'll love you even more for it.

× Though romantic, he's shy about it. Not the dashing gentleman, sweep you off your feet type. He's more the type that, when you come home from work, he'll have a surprise candle light dinner laid out with some soft goth rock playing in the background, dressed in his very best. He won't address it as anything unusual, but hopes you will praise him. And when you do, he blushes and stammers like nuts.

× I'm sure this goes without saying, but he also writes you romantic poetry. That stuff is like reading "Song of Solomon." Once again, never addresses it, but he'll leave any poetry he wrote for you under your pillow or beside your toothbrush in the morning, get up and get to work before you awaken and find it.

× He's fairly quiet and shy most of the time, content to listen to and watch you rather than interacting. But if you want to hear him talk, ask about his newest novel. He'll go on for HOURS.

× One stress between the two of you is that he struggles to take care of himself. Mind almost always on his work, he lives perpetually in his own fantasy world; the world he's building on paper. That often causes him forget to shower, eat, etc. If you've been out of the house, it's almost certain you'll return to a hungry, frail grease ball of a boyfriend leaned intently over his manuscript.

× Since he's LOADED, he spends ridiculous amounts of money on you like it's nothing. All his gifts are atrociously expensive, often times for no reason. It's rather concerning.

× And lastly, since he's more traditionally minded, he wants to wait to ~do the deed~ until marriage. However, he'll kiss and cuddle you every day, and he is SUCH a good kisser.

[my-own-walker]

im so sorry it wouldn't let me answer you abt the tate langdon ask, pre death please and thank u

I Can't Handle Change

note: it's been so long since i wrote anything tate. this should be fun!!

summary: pre-death tate gets comfort from the reader after a fight with his mom 🥺

warnings: sad angsty tate, kissing lol,

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Little things wore Tate down over time.

He once told me that he spent a whole afternoon picking fresh lilacs and daffodils out of his mother's garden, arranging them into the prettiest bouquet for her. He was 11. If you truly let that sink in, it's astounding that an 11-year-old boy was sweet enough to do that for his mom. Her response to the gesture was to shout at him about ruining all the hard work she'd put into the gardening.

She threw the handmade bunch into the trash right in front of him. Held his head straight to make him watch and all. The pretty purple and yellow petals crashed down into the can with a thunk.

Their relationship didn't change. Especially when Larry came into their lives. Constance was an interesting woman. She was in no way fit to mother the children she birthed. Her narcissistic tendencies drew her to do things to the children that made them resent her. It seemed she resented them right back.

Tate and Constance were constantly at war with each other over the whole Larry thing. He didn't know what he wanted, but it for sure wasn't a new dad. Nothing could truly fill the void inside of him. If anything, his mother and Larry were working in tandem to dig even more out of his soul, shoveling heaps of it out of him and discarding it right before his eyes. Just like Constance did with the flowers.

When I came along things changed for Tate. We met in school. I'd spend afternoons at his place. Somewhere along the way we started dating. He possessed this all-encompassing love within him. Since he was a child, its tendrils reached out, longing for someone to latch onto to disseminate the intense feeling. He was a lover, but also the child of someone with no room for real love in her life.

I embraced his need for connection. His intensity. Tate was emotional and strong-willed. The love he gave me was the warm embrace that you crave on winter's coldest nights. It was slippery quicksand, pulling me in with no regard for my control.

She hated me, Constance. She didn't like my presence. My effect on her 'beautiful boy.' It was a game of cat and mouse. She didn't want his love, but she wanted him to keep trying. The thrill of rejecting him intoxicated her. When I came into Tate's life, he stopped trying to connect with her. He finally found someone that would accept him.

On a rainy day in November, Constance and Tate went at it again. She expressed her intent to keep Larry in his life.

'He's your new father and you have to DEAL with it!' she screamed.

Larry watched from the corner as she slapped Tate across his face. The coward didn't even say a word. No mother should be hitting her son. Instead, Larry wore a smirk so devilish he could be a minion of Satan, for all anyone knew.

Tate didn't even say a word. He stormed out of the door and straight in the direction of my house. I lived two miles away. He trudged all that way in the pouring rain. When he arrived at my doorstep, he was soaked right through to the skin, shivering from the cold. He broke down on my front porch. Body-wracking sobs left his lips as he crouched down into a ball. I pulled him up by his armpits and guided him inside.

When we got to my room, I immediately stripped him of all his wet clothes and gave him some of the stuff I had stolen from his room. A sweater, some loose-fitting jeans, and a cardigan. I wrapped him in the layers, shushing him as he cried through the process. He collapsed into a heap on top of my duvet cover, face in his hands. Still shivering, he let out another heart-wrenching sob.

I hurried over to the bed and wrapped him in my embrace. His head rested on my chest and his body rested in between my legs. I sat up against the headboard, running my fingers through his hair, letting him cry it out. After some time, his cries became softer.

'Nothing I do is ever good enough,' Tate sniffed.

'You know that's not true,' I tutted. 'You are good enough.'

'No,' he whined, 'With her. In her eyes.' I knew he meant his mother. I didn't even have to ask.

'What happened, love?' I asked softly.

'It's just that ugly motherfucker again,' he sighed. 'She keeps saying he's my dad. She wants me to call him dad.' I stared off for a second not sure what to say. I kissed the top of his head.

'You shouldn't have to call him that,' I decided. He sobbed loudly again.

'She hit me, Y/N.'

I gasped and grabbed his head, turning it to make him look at me. And there it was, clear as day. A welt forming over his eye. I couldn't believe I didn't notice it earlier.

'I ignore him now. I don't insult him. I stay away. But now she wants me to call him dad,' he cried. 'Nothing I do is ever good enough. She knows I can't handle change.'

'Oh, baby. I am so sorry,' I whispered. Looking into his glassy eyes, I saw a brokenness I had never seen before. She went too far, as she always did. I kissed the tip of his nose. 'I'm sure that feels great, huh?' I half-laughed, sardonically, running my thumb gently over his swollen face.

His hand reached up and wiped my cheek. I didn't even realize I had started crying, too. I loved him so much and hated to see him hurting.

'Please, don't worry about me,' I said softly. 'I just cry when you cry. I'm a big dork.'

'I love you so much, Y/N,' he rasped.

'I love you more,' I replied. He sat up more so his face was level with mine. Leaning in, he kissed me delicately. He always kissed me so tenderly, his soft lips caressing mine so beautifully. Tate truly meant his kisses. They had intentions behind them. It was his way of saying 'thank you,' or 'I love you.' None of his kisses were meaningless.

The tenderness dissolved into a passion. We had this insatiable need to be closer to one another. We stayed like this for what felt like forever. Kissing in our mutual bliss. His ever-present need to give love and be loved in return was being fulfilled.

And with that, the broken parts of him began to heal again.

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Quickie but a goodie! Thank you for this request. I like writing Tate. He's a moody lil boy.