#( ty for starting my day off so warm and fuzzy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dearharriet · 1 year ago

Note

could you write a steve x fem!reader fic based on little freak by harry styles? thank you!!!

ty for the req!! <3 i hadn’t listened to little freak since harry’s house came out but this prompt rly grew on me :) hope u like it! (1.6K) 🦢 (cw: drinking, smoking, foul language)

A football team of college pricks had invaded the kitchen. You felt bad. In high school, the kitchen was always a haven at parties for chatting and drinking and planning to leave. What you were witnessing felt like the desecration of God’s land.

You were on the counter, where you’d stationed yourself an hour ago. The rowdy group would rotate between flirting with you and rooting through the cupboards and drawers, or roughhousing (which had broken three household items so far), or yelling.

The guy talking to you now smelled like Windex and had calluses on his hands that kept snagging on your tights.

“—and girls always say they like blue collar guys but really they’re just talking about Bruce Springsteen.”

“Mm-hm,” you mumbled a half-hearted agreement.

You’d exhausted your options, and were considering letting Windex take you home. Half of the other guys wouldn’t even talk to you, only shooting furtive glances your way.

“Have you seen how lanky that guy is? He’s never seen a day of work in his life.”

“Uh-huh.” You scanned the crowd, desperate for another chance, but only found two girls eyeing you from the punch bowl. Caught, they scampered out of the kitchen again giggling, their full cups sloshing red onto the linoleum.

“Hey,” Windex pulled your attention back to him. Your face felt warm, and you chided yourself. The girls never used to make fun of you for being liked.

“Hey,” he said again, taking your chin. You tamped down a cringe. “Wanna get out of here?”

This time when you swept the kitchen, hopeless, there was someone standing on the threshold.

There was a fuzzy familiarity about him—the nose, the big brown eyes.

Windex finally turned to see what was distracting you, and his grip on your leg tightened.

“Oh, Jesus. Here comes royalty.”

The other boys in the kitchen noticed him too, and started heckling him. The chaos of their insults made them indecipherable. You caught the stranger’s eye and smiled demurely, but he averted his gaze, and then lurched forward like someone pushed him. A small dirty blonde traipsed in behind him, speaking a mile a minute.

Windex blocked your view with his body, standing between your thighs.

“C’mon, let’s get outta here. I think the rats are moving in for scraps.” He pulled at your legs to slide you off the counter, but you anchored yourself with your hands.

“I think I’m gonna stay a little longer,” you told him, and because your subtlety is nonexistent, your eyes flicked over to the boy and his friend. Windex caught on quickly, glancing between you two and scoffing dryly.

“Right,” he said. “Have fun with that. Just don’t be surprised if his dick is softer than his hands.”

You straightened. “You can go now.”

He threw his hands up in surrender and backed away.

“You guys can give it up,” he shouted over the music and the jeering. “King Steve is here!”

The guys all groaned, dropping everything and abandoning ship.

One of them threw his cigarette into Steve’s brand new cup of liquor and it flamed. Steve jumped back, tossing the drink away from him. You gasped.

“What the hell?” Steve was giving the guy what for? but everyone else was staring at Windex. Steve’s drink was seeping into his flannel shirt, a blotch of brown over the forest-green. Thankfully the flame didn't last, so he was only soggy and unhappy.

“Real nice, bud,” Windex bit out. “My shirt is fucked.”

Steve’s friend spoke up.

“Tell your idiot friends not to make molotovs out of his damn drink, then, bud.”

“Rob, stop. Let’s just go, they were here first.”

“No, please, your highness. She’s all yours.” Windex shot a look your way, and then him and the rest of them went away.

With the guys gone, the typical kitchen crowd started reappearing. Steve and his friend seemed content to lean against the island and people watch.

You assumed she was his girlfriend after a while, but then a pretty redhead appeared and whisked her away, their fingers nervously interlocked.

Steve made his way over soon after.

“Hey.” There’s an art to charming guys, and you were always naturally talented at it. You’d dip your chin and look up through your lashes, and speak just a smidge too quiet so they’d have to lean in to hear you.

Steve, however, didn’t lean in. His mouth pulled into a strained smile.

“Hi.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, um, fine.” He glanced behind you. “Would you grab me a paper towel?”

Twisting around, you found the roll on its spool under the cabinet and frowned. The section tore off cleanly and you slid it across the counter to him.

“I remember you, now,” you said before he could escape. “From school. You’re the ladykiller.”

He blew a breath out and ran a hand through his hair. You remembered that, too.

“That’s not something I’m really proud of.” He winced. “I’m trying to leave it behind.”

A throaty giggle sprang out of you.

“I don’t know if spilling drinks on people is a step in the right direction.” You were joking, but he frowned.

“Yeah, I’m, uh. I’m sorry about that.”

“Are you?” You squinted.

“No,” he said with retroactive irritation. “He was being a prick. They all were. But I’m sorry for you.”

A scoff rolled out of you, slightly affronted.

“Gee, thanks.” You folded your arms and leaned back into the cabinet. “Is this how you charm all the girls? By feeling sorry for them?”

“I don’t do much charming,” he muttered. You raised a skeptical brow. “Anymore.”

Laughing, you lifted your butt to grab the pack of smokes you had stashed away in your back pocket.

“Clearly. I’m starting to think you’re actually here for the paper towel.” Kicking a leg out, you grazed his hip with your sneaker while you pulled a cigarette out.

Steve watched you light it, something churning behind his eyes.

“I don’t get it,” he mumbled, almost too quiet for you to catch. He was shaking his head.

“Hm?” Blowing your first drag out into the kitchen, you relaxed a little further in your perch.

“Just…in school, guys always talked about you like you were odd. Freaky.” He shrugged. “You just seem like a girl to me.”

Your brows pinched, conflicted. “Oh.”

Steve kept eyeing your smoke. When he realized he wasn’t being subtle enough, he turned to gaze out at the kitchen, arms crossed.

“Yknow, I always wondered what you thought of them.”

You looked out into the kitchen, but there was no identifiable person that he was talking about.

“Who?”

Ruffling the back of his hair a bit, he said, “The guys you’d talk to.”

You hummed. Ashed your cigarette onto his forgotten paper towel.

“You mean why I liked them?”

“No, just—” Steve paused. Intrigued, you scooted to the edge of the counter to listen closer.

“Just what you were thinking.” Steve kicked his sneaker into the floor. “You looked kinda far away most of the time.”

A smile crept over your face.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” you muttered, swaying your feet. You tried to sum your thoughts up without being long-winded.

“I think…they’re bored.” Steve looked at you and you added, “And sad.” Smiling bitterly, you looked away. “Mostly sad.”

Steve's laugh was hollow as he rubbed his cheek with the flat of his hand.

“Yeah. Sounds about right.”

You shared a look, and then shared a silence as you finished your cigarette. When you were done, you stubbed it briskly and leaned forward onto your hands again.

“Hey, so.” You cleared your throat. “I think I’m gonna go. And if I leave on my own, at least one of those guys is gonna follow me. I know you’re not interested, but, um…”

Smiling at him—a real smile, not a simper or a manipulation—you asked, “Do me a favor and walk me out?” Steve looked unsure, so you added, “You can come right back. If you don’t want people to think…”

Nodding slowly, Steve came and helped you hop down. You tried to concern yourself as little as possible with his big hands, with how automatic his decision to help you was. You failed miserably, especially when he started guiding you out by the small of your back.

Windex was shirtless on the couch, talking at a new girl who wore a thousand-yard-stare that rivaled yours. He stilled when you passed, watching the both of you with contempt, but didn’t stop you.

Outside was chilly, being night and near-October in Hawkins. You rubbed your arms over the thin sleeves of your shirt and sucked in a shaky breath. It came out as steam.

“Thanks,” you said cheerily, giving Steve's forearm a small grateful squeeze. “I’ll see you ‘round.”

You probably wouldn’t.

The gravel driveway loomed before you, and you started your trek with a huff.

“What are you doing?”

You spun around to see Steve looking at you, perplexed.

“I’m walking home.”

Steve's face flickered with emotion before he shook his head insistently.

“Uh-uh. Let’s go.” Shoving his hand into a pocket, he produced his keys and started toward a BMW.

“What? Steve, no, it’s fine. I do it all the time.”

The passenger door was already open.

“Get in the car, crazy.”

Shifting where you stood, you found yourself tempted to do just that. You glanced at the house.

“People will think—“

“That’s fine.”

A beat passed between you, and then a cold gust of wind pushed you into the cushy leather seat, and Steve closed the door behind you.

When he slid into the driver's side you asked, “What about your friend?”

He smiled. “She left a while ago.”

“Oh.” Nodding, you relaxed. Steve put the car in reverse and turned the radio up, and you laughed outright.

Springsteen was on.

thank you for reading! 🌝

masterlist

#steve harrington #request #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader fanfic #stranger things #reqs open #songfic

124 notes · View notes

hutahuta · 1 year ago

Note

Thinking ab Pavia and his sweet tooth! He def takes his gf/partner out for gelato dates. What do you think his reaction would be if his gf made him a homemade dessert? Cute idea that maybe he’s been like “hmm where has she been going these past few days, she comes home late” and then he walks into the house and it is revealed she has been taking baking classes to make him something he’d like ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

P.AGE OO.7 — 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐔𝐌 & NOBILITY : 交 ✦ ⏱

fem!reader x pavia || baking desserts ::

hLEPDM THIS IS SO CUTE ARGHGGJ making cookies for my love, I stir and mix ‼️ ty for requesting buty beloved

The kitchen is typically a cozy space that you found yourself drowning your thoughts out. A space adorned with the warmth of flickering oven light and the comforting hum of a mixer. There are shelves lined with various ingredients—flour, sugar, cocoa, and an assortment of spices—creating a vibrant palette for culinary creations. Countertops are adorned with mixing bowls, spoons, and trays of freshly baked goods cooling off, infusing the room with a sense of anticipation. The atmosphere is filled with joy, as you meticulously prepare his favorite treats, sharing not only delightful sweets but also warmth, love, and a sense of home.

You recall a time during one of the many dates you had together, Pavia would mark a question that highlighted at the back of your head which initially started this whole ordeal.

" You know, amore. I wish to try more than one flavour.. If I could, I'd bring you the finest desserts of Piemonte. "

More than one dessert? He deserves it. He works hard, day in, day out. So you made it a personal goal to set yourself a deadline to create a few sweets that can be savoured to share between the two of you. Cupcakes, Panna Cotta, Cannoli, Tiramisu.. Oh my, you knew he'd adore Tiramisu.

Weakly, you picked up the spoonful of batter and took a deep inhale of the sweet aroma that infiltrated your mind with a warm sense of joy. You knew what you were doing.

The recipes you could learn from the basic cookbook didn't offer you much help, but you did the best you can. The classes you took, though.. God, it helped a lot. From the moment you started, from the final touches you added to the batter as of right now; you can't help but admire how far your skills had advanced throughout the months. The skilful use of your fingers pinching and twisting the desserts to create a beautiful swirl, the mix of saltiness and sweetness drizzled into every bite one would take inside of the soft filling; you considered to think of yourself to feel as though you were truly a chef.

Even so, you'd ponder in the back of your head if he'd always wonder where on earth you'd be biding your time. That the worry settles in through the depths of his mind that he can't help but weigh the feeling of you potentially.. distancing yourself from him? Questions would probably plague his mind, had he thought, what did he do? Was it something he said to you before? You planned to explain all of it later, but you knew him well. You knew how he'd overthink quite so often.

Even if you'd been late going back home, it's all worth it.. It's thought that counts, right? Regardless, Pavia always told you that any act of thoughtfulness bespeaks a profound commitment, an investment of time, skill, and meticulous attention to detail, all orchestrated to fashion a sensory delight. So the thought of your worries of him being hurt in the process of your surprise was suppressed at the back of your head. Whatever though.. You knew he never had the time to do fluffy baking with you, but what if you made these yourself? What's more homey than to have a loving girl such as yourself welcome a tired man back to his safe space? A serene thought that make your head swirl with all sorts of concerts that spiralled down into something so deeply fuzzy and admirable..

" Hm.. More sugar? " You asked, quietly mumbling to yourself. Adding more wouldn't spoil the flavour, right?

" He won't mind. " You chuckled thereafter.

The concoction of these delectable treats isn’t merely a culinary endeavor; it’s a soulful expression, an artful symphony that harmonizes flavors, textures, and aromas to compose an edible testament of love. The careful selection of ingredients, the rhythmic blending, and the transformative process within the oven embody the care and consideration invested in the act. Or, that's what you would like to think anyway.

Yet, a soft click ticked in the chains of the door. Maleficent who firmly guarded themself near the entrance let out a quiet whimper that had you peeking your head to wonder if that is who you truly think it is? But the moment you looked down, you realised how dirty you'd become with the flour staining your apron and hands.

" [ Name ] ! I'm home! You're here, no? " Pavia's firm voice had you suddenly unfasten the knot on the back of your apron, throwing it elsewhere before you quickly checked the time on the antique clock at the back. Shit, what time was it? Did Pavia arrive before 10?

You stared at the soft ticks chipping away at the time, noticing how the vintage wallpaper that started to show marks of the cracks wearing in slowly.

You made a mental note to make sure to fix that later.

" [ Name! ] "

Oh, right. You still have time to clear everything away before—

A head slowly peeled out of the corner, the soft licks of Andrea heaping at bare skin of your ankles make you uncontrollably giggle as Pavia followed your voice into the kitchen.

" Something does smell wonderfully sweet. Dear cucciola.." He warmly pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. Suddenly, you witnessed him pause in his tracks to address the sudden situation caving into his mind, trying to piece in every piece of the missing puzzle engraved in his brain.

" But what the hell is this mess, though?.. " His eyes darted towards the counter that littered with sprinkles full of flour and icing peppered across the edge of your fingertips. The stern tone made you quietly snort, immediately casting your gaze away from him.

" N-Nothing, I didn't expect you to come home so early. "

" Likewise. " He stated, bluntly, still taking a good look around the kitchen to see how your quiet, timid self leaned against the counter-top in a sudden weary feeling of dread weighing down in your stomach.

" Ah.. "

You opened your mouth to speak, yet, you couldn't help but stare at him contently for a brief second. How on earth can you possibly tell him that you'd have been spending your time trying to learn how to make simple desserts yet also complex patterns to make them look somewhat luxurious ? You knew he loved the fancy food, but always thought it was a waste to enjoy something once and never have it again. So why not make them so he doesn't have to necessarily waste his money on fancy desserts? Even though this man made thousands.

" Ha.. Alright, you got me. " You raised your hands. Pavia raised his eyebrows at this with the quiet smile lingering in the back.. " You ruined the surprise though.. I expected you to be back home much more later than expected.. "

" Got off the job early today, amore. But, do tell.." He paused, almost in disbelief from the way you seemed to mark his eyes darting left and right to his kitchen being in somewhat of a complete mess.

" Are you.. baking? " He murmured, taking your warm, icing dipped hands into his own cold palms without even having to look at you. You knew Pavia wasn't too mad, (thankfully), but it made you feel quite.. appreciated in some way. Like you could almost tell how he adored the way your smaller figure could even muster such a task to make something as adorable as this?

On the other side of the table, though, it was purely kept clean for the sake of showcasing the desserts in order of height. You remember delicately choosing which place to put each one of them in, from descending or ascending order? Whichever never mattered to you, but now you think about it, arranging them into groups that settled with each other in colours would've been the more suitable order.

" A-Ah..Ha. Well, yeah. I just thought I might do something nice for you. You mentioned quite a while back you wanted to try something new, right? "

" Yes, but I never thought you'd take it quite.. literally. Jesus f*cking Christ, [ Name. ] " The man hastily pressed several kisses against your knuckles, tasting the icing into his own lips before he chuckled quietly to kiss your own. You never had a chance to even say anything before he started confining heated kisses into your face and arms.

" Why do you do such things? What did I ever do to deserve this, amore? " He chuckled softly the moment he pulled away, leaning into your ear to have his warm breath tickle the sensitive area within you. It's as if one part of him felt so relieved that you weren't up to some shady business. He trusted you, wholeheartedly. But could one possibly blame him for having sudden doubts when he thought you might be slowly trying to leave?

"Ha, don't answer that. Your actions speak so dearly.. And your eyes speak the truth of your devotion for me, huh? " And he remembered. He always remembers. All of this was for him. So if you did this, there's no other human or arcanist, be it man or woman or person, who would ever dare to replace you.

This is all your work. Your art. And Pavia guiltily admired every bit of it.

He murmured praises between shaky breathes, unable to stop peppering your lips with eager kisses that may leave you spiralling into madness full of eternal joy. But then, he sighed to let out a quiet mumble, looking directly at you in the face. " Was this why you were so—..?"

" Distant? Yes.. I took the remaining week to partake in some..uh— classes. Sorry.. I didn't mean to come off across as me trying to lea—" Your words, instantly cut off by the touch starved puppy of a man pressing his own body against yours; lips latching onto one another as his previous kisses continued to spill tales of how desperately in love he is with you.

" Jesus Christ, Pavia. " You closed your eyes..

" You did this for me, huh? " He trembled. The warmth of your cheeks heated up, his body starting to succumb into the rising temperatures that combated against the bitter coldness that sunk into his skin like ant bites.

You nodded, sheepishly. The mess was an embarrassment to say the least, but by the gods, if you could, you would describe how utter gratitude wafted over his face, eyes glimmering under the light of the bulbs that flicked a couple of times then and there. He didn't care about the mess anymore, but what he couldn't take his eyes off were the humble sweets you took your own time, money, and effort into making purely for the sake of his satisfaction.

And by the heavenly gods, was he satisfied.

" Come.. Let us clean this space and enjoy your creations, my dear. You truly spent this week to devote it purely for me..? " He still spoke in disbelief, unable to contain the inner childish words that wanted to latch onto this woman and giggle around like a boy that just found a few cents off the ground to buy an ice cream.

You guided yourself to rinse off the icing and batter staining your hands before you sighed to turn around to see your own beloved fawn over at how adorably cute these small treats were. Some were easy, some were as difficult as they looked. Andrea pressed their paws against the counter, equally as hungry as he had looked. The similarities between the two determined the reason as to why you'll forever stick with him and his kin. You are truly his angel, and for this simple gesture, Pavia promises, mentally, that he'd repay all of this back tenfold.

#reverse 1999 #pavia #pavia reverse 1999 #pavia x reader #reverse #paviarev1999 #r99 pavia #reverse 1999 pavia #pavia fluff

95 notes · View notes

ashyyslashy · 2 years ago

Note

can I request a Renfield x reader where he has a praising kink but so ashamed of it first please?

author's note: this shit is so hot ty for the request

warnings: language, sexual content

word count: 667

Renfield was conditioned to be useful. The saying "Idle hands are the devil's work" had been ingrained into his mind over decades by, ironically, the Prince of Darkness himself. He was constantly eager to please by completing the tasks others assigned him. And admittedly, he felt awash with a strange sensation when they thanked him for doing a good job, a fuzzy feeling swelling up inside.

It was even worse when it came to a romantic partner. That warm feeling in his gut spread downward and caused the warmth to grow scalding hot in sudden arousal. He was so ashamed at the effect that praise had upon him; whenever he was caught in a vulnerable position as a result of you innocently expressing your appreciation for a job well done, he was always sure to cover up his flushed reaction.

But he wasn't that lucky every time.

You were laying on the bed, wincing in pain from the tightness of your back. You'd probably pulled a muscle earlier in the day from moving boxes into the apartment you shared, and it had grown difficult to ignore.

"What's wrong?" Renfield asked from beside you, turning over to meet your eyes.

"Just pulled my back or something."

"You want me to give you a massage?"

"That'd be great, Ren, thank you." You flipped over onto your stomach, angling yourself towards him.

You felt a chill run across your body as his hands worked up your back, meticulously kneading out the stiffness.

"Fuck. That feels so good," you praised. His touch faltered as he quickly murmured a "Thank you".

The feeling of his hands was like a jolt of electricity coursing throughout your being. Suddenly the pain in your back migrated to the peripheral of your brain, thoughts of your boyfriend consuming all of your senses.

You flipped back over, and he quickly moved away, in apparent embarrassment.

"What?" you asked, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion. His face was beet red.

"Uh-" he paused.

"Tell me." Your tone was stern, searching.

"Um, I just got a little- nervous- when you liked my massage so much."

You slowly grinned as understanding registered.

"Are you... turned on?"

"Um- uh-"

You moved closer to him, pushing his hair out of his face.

"You like to be praised, don't you?"

"Yeah- shit- I just really like when you thank me for stuff, make me feel like I'm doing a good job-"

Your hands brushed across his trousers, glancing over the hard-on that was making itself evident.

"Take off your clothes," you told him.

He complied eagerly, stripping off articles of clothing until he was fully bare.

"Good boy," you praised, his cock twitching in response.

You peeled off your own pants and underwear, your fingers circling your clit and the wetness that had formed. You pressed the finger against his lips, and he sucked off your slick obediently. You trailed your hand down his body, gripping his cock and gently pumping it as pre-cum leaked from the tip.

"You good?" you asked.

He nodded. Hovering above him, you slowly lined your entrance up with his cock, pushing him inside you.

He threw his head back, breathing heavily. You started to move against him, gaining traction as your pace quickened.

"You're doing so well, Ren," you reassured him.

Your enjoyment at the blush that colored his cheeks was indescribable. You kept riding him, the noises the two of you elicited forming a cacophony of pleasure. You gripped his shoulders as your body trembled under a sudden rush of pleasure, signaling your orgasm.

He followed suit. He was always the gentleman, holding himself back until you came.

He gently extricated himself from you, allowing you to lay down by his side. Your fingers traced his jawline as you stared into the eyes of the selfless, worshipping man you were lucky to call yours.

You leaned against him, eager to be armed with this new information. You were gonna be praising him so much more now.

#renfield x reader #rm renfield #renfield 2023 #renfield movie #renfield #nicholas hoult

224 notes · View notes

mooodyblue · 2 years ago

Note

How about caregiver Austin helping his little to regress?

i love cg!aus !!!!! my aus fics aren't doing as well as they used to but i'll always love writing for him <3 ty for the request!

wc: 637

you’d been dating austin for a year now, the two of you kept no secrets from each other. the moment you started dating, you opened up about your regression and austin was more than okay with being your caregiver. you were grateful for austin and he was happy that you were so open with him, but due to a toxic relationship that made you have to hide your regression in the first place, you still felt like you couldn't be little. not even around austin.

he knew when you were feeling overstimulated or on the verge of slipping; you'd only been little around him a handful of times but he still knew. you'd get quiet or begin to fidget with whatever you could get your hands on, sometimes biting your nails. he’d hold your hand instead, letting you squeeze as hard as you needed.

austin just wished you were more comfortable with slipping around him. he wanted to take care of you and let you feel free for a little awhile.

he came home to you taking your plushies out of the dryer, grinning at you. “bath day for the stuffies?”

your cheeks got warm, slightly embarrassed at austin catching you with plushies. you slept with one every night even with austin but still found yourself getting embarrassed whenever he caught you with one. “y-yeah.” you laughed softly.

“you haven’t gone down in awhile.” he stated, snaking his arms around your waist.

“i know.” you sighed. “i’m just…i can’t.”

austin hummed, turning you around so you'd face him. “what can i do to help?” he asked, rubbing his hands up and down your arms soothingly.

you shrugged, just the touch from your boyfriend making you feel all warm and fuzzy. he pressed his lips against your forehead, “cartoons? i could go for a lil’ bit of bluey right now.” he grinned.

“really?” your eyes lit up in surprise.

“go get yourself comfortable, baby. i’ll join you in a bit.” he gave you a soft pat on the back and went to fetch your little things.

there were things that you absolutely had to have when you were little, items that couldn’t be taken away if it came down to having to punish you for anything. your favorite blanket, the plushie austin bought you for your first anniversary and a rainbow colored teether. there were many other items that you loved dearly, but only a select few were your comfort items. he noticed how often you were biting at your nails recently and opted out on bringing your paci, he didn't need you ruining your teeth by chewing on it.

he filled your sippy cup with your favorite juice and your favorite snack from your little snack drawer, returning to you in the living room patiently waiting for austin’s return.

“alright. plushie, teether, blankie, sippy cup, snack….” he listed off as he placed everything out on the coffee table, handing you the blanket, plushie and sippy cup. “am i missin’ anything?”

“i think just one more thing….”

he raised an eyebrow, “what did i forget?”

“you!” you reached for him, patting the empty seat next to you.

“silly.” he chuckled, sitting next to you and pulling you on his lap. “my silly lil’ baby.” he cooed, giving your nose a small tap with his finger.

you giggled softly, burying your face in his neck. “daddy’s silly.”

his lips perked up at the nickname, well aware that you were little or close to it. “is that right?” he rubbed your back softly. “y’still love me though.”

you hugged the plushie tightly in your lap, “mmhm. love daddy lots.”

he placed a kiss to your temple, brushing your hair back. “bluey time?”

you situated yourself on his lap, getting comfortable and putting the blanket over the both of you. “bluey!”

#austin butler x reader #austin x reader

70 notes · View notes

headkiss · 2 years ago

Note

baby! i have a holiday/winter request for u!! what about steve with reader who’s never seen snow before? like one day they wake up and they’re snowed in and it’s all fluff and trying to stay warm? ty<3

baby! thank u for this request i hope u like it <333 | 0.6k major fluff and steve in loooove

“Stevie!” He’s woken up by a shake of his shoulders and your lovely voice.

He stretches, his eyes still shut. The bed bounces as you shake him awake. Normally, he’d pull you back to him, ask for five more minutes or maybe another hour. You sound too excited for that, though.

“What is it, baby?”

Steve rubs at his eyes, blinks them open to find you shuffling off the bed and heading to the window. Your nose almost touches the glass.

“It snowed!” You turn towards him, the grin on your face absolutely beaming, “come on, come see.”

He never thought the cold would be such a big deal, but you never had seasons until now. Your move to Hawkins gave you the weather, and most importantly, it gave you Steve.

As much as he wants to stay in bed, being able to see your face as you see snow for the first time is much more appealing. He stretches once more, until there’s a crack, and moves to stand behind you at the window. His chin perched on your shoulder, his arms around your waist.

“Isn’t it so pretty?” You ask.

He’s looking at you when he replies, “sure is.”

“I think winter’s my favorite season ever.”

“Just wait ‘til you get out there, then get back to me.”

You give his arm that’s wrapped around your stomach a light slap. “Don’t ruin this for me, Stevie.”

He huffs a laugh, pushes a kiss into the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. He’s forgiven in an instant.

Steve was never a morning person until he started sharing a bed with you. Why would he be asleep when he could be consciously spending time with his favorite person in the world? Sure, his eyes are still heavy and he can’t hold back his yawns, but his heart is bursting and he’s in love.

“Can we go out there?” You gasp at your next thought, “we can make my first snowman!”

“Sure thing, baby. You have snow gear?”

“Uh huh. Bought some at the mall with Robin,” you turn in his hold, grabbing his hand and trying to tug him along with you, “let’s go, let’s go.”

“At least let me make you breakfast first?”

“Only if we wear matching fuzzy socks.”

He shifts his hand so that your fingers are slotted together. They sit perfectly that way, like yours is the only hand he was meant to hold.

“Whatever you want.”

You cheer with a soft ‘yay’ and kiss the back of his hand before letting it go to ruffle through Steve’s sock drawer.

Steve cooks breakfast as promised, fuzzy socks and all, and though you try not to, you scarf it down quicker than usual. To most people, snow is just another normal thing, and you’re sure it will be for you one day, but not today. Today, it’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen aside from Steve’s eyes.

You look adorable in your snowsuit, and Steve can’t wipe the smile off of his face watching you enjoy the snow the way he used to when he was young. He even lets you start a snowball fight, lets you win, too. You make a snowman as promised, and only when your fingers and toes go numb do you head inside.

Steve makes hot chocolate, and you watch movies in your pajamas, cuddled up on the couch for warmth and proximity.

“Thanks for freezing your butt off with me, Stevie.”

His cheeks are still rosy, his nose, too. He smiles, hugs you to him using the arm over your shoulders, kisses your head.

“Nobody else I’d risk frostbite for, baby.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington request #steve harrington requests #steve harrington story #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #stevie blurbs #stranger things #stranger things steve #steve stranger things #stranger things fic

436 notes · View notes

desiredcaramellatte · 3 years ago

Text

Captain Ice x Child reader

Platonic! Hcs

Greetings my comrades!

I usually do Cookie Run Kingdom, but I have also gotten into Cookie Run Oven Break as well! Sadly, I do not know all the characters as well as I do Crk characters, so I will only be writing for a select few, which will be listed at the end of this post, as well as my rules blog.

Like all your local Crob noobies, I got Captain Ice and she meta at the moment, but I found her love for returning lost children home a d o r a b l e !! So, I wondered what it would be like to be her child!

At first I thought of asking a blog, but then I realized, “Hey, I am a blog!” And so, after conversing with myself, I decided it would be a good idea.

But you’re not here for my rambling, you’re here for the cute fuzzies! Onto the Headcannons!

~| I see Captain Ice Cookie as a very stern, no-nonsense mother figure- kind of like how she is with her crew. You have to be up at 8:00 AM sharp, have your bed fixed, and have eaten a balanced breakfast before she even comes in to tell you good morning. Very stern on having good manners “Yes ma’am” “No, ma’am” “Please” “Thank you” and those sorts of things.

~| She will NOT allow you on the Icepeircer until shes 110% sure you will not get hurt in any way, shape, or form. Very overprotective in every mannor possible. You won’t be allowed to help her fight pirates until you’re 80 :).

~| Despite her stern nature and overprotectiveness, she is very loveing towards you. Often gives you hugs or cheek kisses and smiles at you. If you do something correct, Captain Ice will always be there to give you a pat on the back, wether it be taking down a pirate ship (to which she’s pretty much freaking out the whole time that they’re attacking with you on board her ship), hoisting a sail, or even tying your shoe, she’ll be there to compliment you.

~| Don’t care how old you are, she will tuck you in at night and give you a good-night kiss. She will even sing or read a book to you if you request it. If you get up later at night, she’ll shoo you back to bed no matter your reasoning with a cup of water, and will sit beside you until you fall asleep. Captain Ice Cookie will help comfort your nightmares as well, you can tell her anything.

~| Makes sure that you eat 3 meals a day and drink lots of water. Will literally stop whatever she’s doing to come find you. “How much water have you drank today?” “Come on, you need some lunch, snacks are not filling enough.”

~| Loves it when you call her mom or any type of form. It solidifies your relationship that you’re not just a crew-mate, you’re her child. She likes it when you follow her around, as well (unless she’s doing something dangerous), since that means she will always know where you are and that you’re safe. If you’re ever out of her sight for long, even 2 minutes, she’ll start to get worried for your safety.

~| Captain Ice will 100% set a curfew, doesn’t matter if you don’t go out or if you do. If you miss the curfew then you’re not allowed to go out without her for a month <3. If you continuously miss the curfew then you’ll see your mom literally b r e a k d o w n in tears and rant to you about how much she worries for your safety and well-being every second of the day that you’re not with her. Don’t make your mother sad :(.

~| She supports you completely and fully! You gender, sexuality, your beliefs, everything! She may not always understand them (she’s a bit old and was raised differently :() but she’ll try her best to! You may have to sit down and explain them to her (Captain Ice will probably ask some questions as well, just out of pure curiosity), but she will support you through thick and thin. If someone puts you down for your beliefs, then she’ll go on full mama-bear. You may have to stop her from committing an assault.

~| Despite wholly supporting you, she will always come off as cold if you start dating someone. She wants you to have the best in life, and will always see others as not fit for you. She will start to warm up to them if you’re genuinely happy, and she sees they’re a good person who will take care of you. But if they’re not, if they touch you in a bad manner or abuse you then she’s p i s s e d. She will get the cleaver and start chasing them around town.

~| God I wish she could be my mom.

Crob characters I will write

- Captain Ice Cookie

- Pitaya Dragon Cookie

- Earl Grey Cookie

- Chess Choco Cookie

- Wind Archer Cookie

- Raspberry Mousse Cookie

This is just as of posting this! If you’re looking at this later, it may be outdated- make sure to check my rules post to find out! ↓

https://desiredcaramellatte.tumblr.com/post/687997896104280064/rules-and-information-about-me

~ Feel free to request, my inbox is always open! Also, if you have any Earl Grey requests, I feel like writing for him but I have no clue what to base his off of, so please send any ideas or requests you have for him in as well!

#Cookie run x reader #cookie run oven break x reader #cookie run #cookie run oven break #captain ice x reader #platonic #child reader #headcannons #captain ice cookie #requests open #I want to write for Earl Grey so much rn but braindead bloop

73 notes · View notes

heyimroe · 2 years ago

Text

A cozy night

Draken x reader

Content: fluff, name calling

A light shower of snow drizzled uncontrollably for a few days. The fireplace was warm and fuzzy, the television states on the new weather reports and the aroma of food filled the house. You were cooking when you heard Draken open the door. "Hey, baby," he said as he removed his coat and dropped it on the floor.

"Welcome home, Kenny," you replied, stirring the hot pumpkin soup on low heat. Adding a pinch of salt and a small amount of basil. Draken came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. Snuggling his face into your neck, "What's for dinner, baby?" he muttered. You place your hand onto his, "Pumpkin soup and rice with some salad."

"Mngh" Draken whined, kissing your neck softly. "Do you not like it, darling? Maybe I cou-" you got cut off by Draken, "NO! Why would I think that? I love your food," he replied, surprised you would even ask a question like that. He starts rubbing small circles on your stomach gently.

You smile, "Kenny, dinner's almost set, would you help me place the cutlery?" You ask, turning off the stove. "Mm, of course darling." He says, removing his arms from your waist.

You pour the soup into two bowls equally, placing the rice on the plates using bowls as rice molds and setting some salad next to the rice. When Draken finishes setting the cutlery, he helped you getting the food and plates. "Dive in, Kenny."

When he tasted the food, stars appeared in his eyes. "Mmm, darling, this is de-li-cious!" He says, eating it quickly like a hungry wolf. "Slow down, Kenny," you chuckle, "Do you really mean it?" questioning him.

"Of course I do! How could you doubt yourself?" He exclaims. "If you say so," you replied calmly, eating slowly while chatting with him.

"So, Kenny, how was your day?"

"The usual, Chifuyu tied Mikey's hair using a rope."

"How was your day, Y/N?"

"Well, I went to the market and grabbed some cherries on sale. They were so big and juicy, I tried one before you got home."

After dinner, Draken helped wash the plates with you. He went to go shower as you wiped down the table and sat on the couch.

You turned on a YouTube playlist of Christmas songs and lit a vanilla scented candle. You started to read a book you newly bought and got cozy.

"Y/N! Have you seen my socks?" Draken shouts, frantically looking for it. "It's in wardrobe, under the second drawer!" You replied, continuing to read the book. "I found it! Thanks babe!"

"No problem, Kenny!" You shout to him. A while later, he sat on the sofa with you. "New book?" He asks, trying to read the pages. "Yeah," you reply. Draken tries to put his head into your book to annoy you. "Kenny~! Sto-" you were cut off when you looked at his muscular figure, your cheeks start to turn into a rosy pink colour. "Like what you see, darling?" He asks teasingly.

You quickly cover your face with the book a hit your boyfriend's bicep jokingly. He chuckles quietly as he cuddles with you. You out the book down and cuddled him.

"This is quite the position, darling. Let's make this more comfortable. " Draken says as he lifts you from the sofa and between his legs. He placed his arms around your hips and starts to kiss your neck teasingly. "Kenny! Stop, it's ticklish!" You laugh while trying to escape his grip. "Say you love me first and I'll let you go, " he muttered. "Okay fine! I love you, Kenny!" You replied. Draken smiles at you softly " I love you too, darling." He replies as he quickly smooches your lips. You both let out a little giggle before calling it a night.

When you both got into bed, Draken pulls you close to him and intertwines his fingers with yours. "Mm, good night, baby," he whispers, "Good night, Kenny," a barely audible voice comes out of you as he pulls you impossibly closer, kissing your lips gently and snuggling into your neck.

ALL LIKES AND REBLOGS AS APPRECIATED BY THE AUTHOR.

Please don't steal my post,

Ty.

#tokyo rev fluff #draken x y/n #fluff #draken fluff #ryuguji ken x reader #ken ryuguji #draken x you

34 notes · View notes

kingkatsuki · 3 years ago

Note

OMDL Jo, jo! (May i call ya Jo? Or queen Bakugo? Lmk what to call you) i just watched this youtube video on how to crochet the most ADORABLE tricerotops and thats has given me this rent free thought.

We all know kiri be most attentive, overprotective husband to a pregnant reader. Now, picture this: pregnant reader, a now stay-at-home wife and maybe like 6-7 months preggo. One day she's just bored out of her mind, having finished cleaning the house against her husband's wishes cause lets face it, he's the sweetest, dorkiest worrywort, and so she goes on YouTube and sees a video on how to crochet the cutest tricerotops and she just squeals. Knowing her husband wont be home until later, she goes to the store to buy all necessary supplies- different colored yarn, a crochet needle, etc, and before she makes the drive home and decides to call dear kiri to what he wants for dinner and when he finds out she's out and about outside the safety of their home, worried, panicked husband mode engaged and he legitimately RUNS to her location, dont matter if she's a hundred blocks away, he's ditching a screaming bakugou during patrol and is there in a matter of minutes.

As soon as he sees her, he's frantically patting down her body in search for any kinds of injuries and when there's none, thats when he sighs in relief. So they go about getting some snacks and dinner for later that night and he drives reader home, no but's, or's and if's you're not lifting a finger while in his presence, he's bringing in all grocery bags and then goes back to a fuming bakugou with a sweet kiss on the lips. Then when the coast's clear, reader starts her plan. Of course doing something like crochet for the first time will take lots of practice and patience, but of course reader is DETERMINED to make the cute mini dino plushie for their unborn child, no matter how her hormones get her frustrated and angry with it, she is GOING to make it if its the last thing she ever did.

And at last, all her hard work pays off! Theres a cute little dino plushie sitting in her hand. And of course the first thing she does is show her husband as soon as he's home from hero work.

And imagining kiri's cute reaction to it just makes my heart squeeze, he'll get all teary eyed and has that sunshine smile at the cute stuffed animal and hugs his wife. Then he makes a request that she make him one for a keychain and you know reader will be looking up a cute shark for the shark man himself.

And just his reaction to the mini red shark with his signature safeguard just sends his heart a flutter and he's kissing and praising his sweet wife. The next day you'll see that he has a hard time deciding to put it on his key ring or on his phone, like its just so cute and its like a little reminder of you and he wants it with him at all times, so he just ties it up on his hero belt to keep it close and asks you to make some more to put on his phone and key ring and he just loves it so much that he decides to sit with you and try to crochet a lil cute animal with you but it comes out a little deformed but you love it no matter what and you ask him to get you a little display case for all the crochets that he tries his best making for you.

Omg idk if this is weird, but just imagining his cute, wholesome reactions to the little crochet plushie just gets me all warm and fuzzy inside.

And imagine when he sees his lil baby playing with all the crochet plushies you made them? :'(( telling you, baby dont want any other toy

Thats all, ty for your time and letting me share this ❤

Ahhh what a cute thing to wake up to!! This is so adorable🥺and I love the bit about screaming Bakugou😂💕

I can 100% imagine Kiri making you stop working while you’re pregnant because he’s terrified a villain while use the excuse to his advantage and grab Red Riots first unborn🥺

So you agree but it’s so boring at home alone all day you have to find things to do right??

He’d be so in awe of you😭

#not mine #red daddy riot #SOFT

101 notes · View notes

crossbowking · 4 years ago

Text

More Than Anything (Part 2)

(Click HERE to read More Than Anything Part 1)

Summary: (Set mid-season 6) The reader’s feelings towards the archer evolve, but a supply run that goes south threatens to destroy it all.

Request: “I’d love to see something w protective Daryl and some angst, maybe set at the start of their time in Alexandria w an established relationship?” - @pulplorrd

A/N: See, you'd think I would've learned after making you guys wait a year and a half for No Way Out Part 2, that I should probably FINISH my stories before actually posting the first part...yet, here we are, one month later lol I'm sorry for the wait but hopefully it's worth it!

Happy reading and let me know what you think :)

xx Jess

Masterlist

Tip Jar

Previously...

But as its grasp slipped away from around Tara’s arm, the walker’s deadweight, in turn, collapsed against you.

You lost your footing and fell backward.

Except the solidity of concrete never rushed up to meet you.

Instead, you were embraced by water, the tarp that’d laid across the motel pool coiling around your body as you sunk deeper and deeper into nothingness.

Now...

When the world ended, you’d accepted the idea of death — your death, specifically.

You knew that one day, your life would undoubtedly end — most likely at the hands of the dead, ripped to pieces, torn to shreds, the way so many others before you had been taken. But you’d always hoped your death would at least mean something — maybe laying your life on the line, sacrificing yourself so the people you loved could survive.

Something noble, something brave.

Not like this.

Before the fall, you’d managed to inhale a sharp breath — though once you’d submerged into the grimy pool water, the coldness, the darkness, the shock of it all, had zapped the air right out of your body. You were becoming increasingly aware of the tightness in your chest, the burning in your lungs as you struggled against the walker pressed against you, its weight sinking you further into the depths of the pool.

Then, the panic set in — your heart pounded against your ribcage, right alongside the immense pressure crushing your lungs. Glimpses of sunlight hung just above you, peeking through parts of the drifting tarp you frantically attempted to push aside. You were completely disoriented, your vision obscured by the murkiness surrounding you, floating specks only visible beneath the shattered light above.

When your back connected against the bottom of the deep end, you managed to wriggle out from under the dead’s listless body — though the tarp remained twisted around your limbs. No matter how hard you fought, how hard you struggled, you couldn’t free yourself from the suffocating material. You could’ve sworn you were caught in a dream, your movements lagging and sluggish as you thrashed beneath the surface.

It felt as though someone had reached their hand directly through the center of your chest, squeezing your insides in a vice-like grip. A tingling sensation crawled down your spine, settling atop your churning stomach as the throbbing behind your ears began to slow.

You were listening to your last heartbeats.

It became unbearable, the water threatening to force its way past your clamped lips, the simple need to breathe. A sharp stab of pain shot through you as the blackness in your vision intensified, pulsing reddish-white around the edges as the fire in your chest consumed you at last.

Then, with nothing else left to do, you inhaled.

You weren’t sure what happened next — everything felt faint and fuzzy and quiet. The darkness that lingered no longer struck fear in you — instead, it was warm, enveloping you in its arms like a long-lost lover. The silence was soothing as you drifted in the emptiness, like careless whispers and forgotten melodies. You were weightless, you were freed, you were everything and nothing all at once.

You were dying.

That you were sure of.

Yet much to your surprise, you weren’t afraid — no, instead…you felt at peace.

But the brevity of calm didn’t last as you were suddenly aware of a vague pressure, though it wasn’t all-consuming nor constant. It was distant at first, a feeling you could’ve easily brushed aside had it not begun to gradually grow in force, in vigor — a steady pounding, coming from the center of your chest, over and over again.

The warmth around you began to splinter, shattering like shards of glass, the fallout piercing your skin as it collapsed around you. The pain was deep and burning and you longed for just a moment ago when all you felt was the sweetness of oblivion. The pressure pounding against your chest increased, becoming the sole thing you could feel, the only thing you could focus on, the unwavering thuds drawing you back from whatever place you’d drifted off to.

In the next moment, you were awake.

Your body flailed, jolting upright, but you’d only managed to get an inch or two off the ground before water began to suddenly spurt from your mouth. Your eyes squeezed shut as you choked on the liquid, every nerve ending in your body red-hot. You were vaguely aware of hands, rough and calloused and familiar, gripping onto your arms and forcing you onto your side, the motion allowing the water leaving your lungs to flow easier.

You gasped a constricted breath, coughing harshly on the exhale, completely and entirely disoriented as to what in the fuck just happened. Your chest tightened as you spit up more water, your throat closing around the sensation as you fought for control of your breathing, the feeling of concrete against the side of your body grounding you.

When your coughs finally died down, the same hands from before grabbed onto your arms, pulling your deadweight upright, maneuvering your limp body as if you were a rag doll. You blinked your bleary eyes open, wincing from the sunlight directly above as you drew in shaky breaths.

And then you saw him.

Daryl knelt in front of you, his ragged breathing mirroring your own, soaking wet from head to toe. Strands of hair stuck against his forehead, droplets of water still dripping from the ends as he stared at you, wide-eyed, his expression a mixture of horror and shock — something you rarely witnessed when it came to the archer.

He was mouthing something — no, he was shouting something — but you couldn’t hear him. You couldn’t hear a damn word he was saying as you sat there, dazed and confused, wondering if what just happened actually happened.

His hold around your arms slipped away, his hands cradling either side of your face instead, tilting your head up and brushing your drenched hair back. He leaned forward a fraction, frantically studying your features, his haunted eyes bouncing back and forth between your own as though making sure you were there — really there.

The silence was becoming a little less resounding, the world around you gradually seeping back, though muffled and dull — but the way Daryl was looking at you, the apprehension in his gaze, shook something loose inside you. Your mouth opened, but no sound came out. You wanted to tell him it was okay — that you were okay — but damn it, why couldn’t you speak?

So instead, you slowly lifted your hands, weakly grasping onto Daryl’s wrists, the small motion all you could muster — you had to let him know you were here. He glanced down at your hands, a small huff of relief escaping him.

But when he looked back up, you noticed the moisture that’d built in the corners of his eyes.

Daryl’s hands slipped behind your head, holding you still as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead gently against yours.

You, on the other hand, silently thanked whatever God or higher power was out there for giving you one more moment like this.

When the archer pulled back, you spotted a red streak smeared across his forehead that hadn’t been there before. Your brow knitted together as he sat back on his haunches. You tried clearing your throat, the sensation burning the rawness that’d spread. “You’re —” you croaked, your voice sounding foreign. “— you’re bleeding, D.”

Daryl’s expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he lowered his gaze and unsheathed his hunting knife. “It ain’t mine,” he rasped, suddenly slicing a long strip of fabric off from the bottom of his dampened shirt and balling it in his fist, ringing out some of the water.

Before you knew what was happening, he was reaching forward, pressing the material gingerly against your forehead and wrapping it behind your head, tying the strip into a knot to keep it in place. You were surprised at the sting of pain you felt, unsure when you managed to cut your head open in the midst of what had happened — everything was still sort of…fuzzy.

The sound of a car door slamming drew your attention. You peeked out of the corner of your eye, spotting Tara jogging towards you, the car you’d driven to the motel running idle in the parking lot.

“They’re coming!” she called out, motioning towards something just behind Daryl.

You craned your neck, attempting to get a look, but before you could, the archer was looping his arms beneath your armpits and hefting you up to your feet. The world tilted unsteadily around you, and had it not been for Daryl’s hold, the ground would’ve surely rushed up to meet you.

“I got ya,” he rasped, slinging one of your arms across his shoulders, his grip snaking around your waist.

Tara appeared at your opposite side, slightly out of breath. “Welcome back, chicka,” she shot you a slightly strained smile before following Daryl’s lead and winding your other arm across her shoulders, keeping you propped upright between them.

You wanted to tell them you were fine, that you were more than capable of walking on your own — but your strength had depleted, your legs shook beneath you, and the shock was beginning to wear off, making all the little aches and pains in your body alarmingly obvious.

Then, you were moving.

They half-dragged, half-carried you across the stretch of concrete, hurrying towards the parking lot where Tara had left the car. You peeked over your shoulder, managing to get a glimpse of what you were leaving behind — the small herd from earlier had been taken down, their bodies splayed out sporadically on the other side of the pool. Some sporting knife wounds, others bullet holes. The pool itself was rippling, the water sloshing back and forth, air bubbles visible at the surface.

Some of the dead had followed you into the water.

Just beyond the pool, you spotted exactly what you were running from — another herd, three times the size of the first one, ambling in from the woods behind the motel, most likely drawn in by gunfire.

When you reached the car, Tara slipped away and jumped into the driver’s seat. Daryl flung open the back door and maneuvered you carefully inside. You grimaced as you inched further into the car, only stopping once your back was pressed up against the opposite door. The archer quickly slid in after you and slammed the door shut, grabbing onto the back of the driver’s seat as Tara peeled out of the parking lot.

The silence that followed rang heavy.

Your heart hammered against your chest, your breaths coming out slightly wheezy, almost like there was still some water left in your lungs. You met Tara’s eyes in the rearview mirror before she focused back on the road — you noticed then that the sleeves of her shirt, up to her elbows, were wet.

She’d helped drag your body out of the pool.

You glanced over at Daryl, the archer’s grip on the driver’s seat white-knuckled as he stared at the back of the headrest. Waves of tension rolled off him, the feeling nearly palpable. But his eyes flickered towards you a moment later, as though he felt you watching him, and some of the rigidity faded.

He wordlessly shuffled closer, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the door you leaned against. You were too tired and too sore to object, your body slumping against his side as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders — you thought for a brief moment that he was hugging you.

But instead, he wound your seatbelt around your body and locked it in place.

Daryl fell back against the seat beside you with a huff, keeping his gaze focused ahead, staring straight through the windshield. He didn’t look at you again — he remained still, like he was carved from stone. You weren’t even sure he was breathing. His arm just barely grazed the side of yours, but despite whatever hidden turmoil was surely happening inside of him, he made no effort to move away.

He needed time to process what happened — what almost happened.

But so did you.

You shifted, closing the small gap between you and resting your head against his shoulder, ignoring the way he stiffened. The material of his shirt was still damp and smelt like a mixture of chlorine and mildew from the murky pool water, but you couldn’t find it in you to pull away either.

You hadn't realized you’d dozed off until the archer gently shook you awake, the car now parked outside Alexandria’s makeshift infirmary.

You still felt weak and lethargic, but you managed to make your way inside without any help — although Daryl, silent and stoic as ever, remained at your side, his hand hovering over the small of your back.

The infirmary was quiet as Denise checked you over — Tara had gone to update Rick and the others on what happened, as well as distribute the supplies you’d managed to bring home. Daryl, on the other hand, paced — back and forth, like a caged animal, on the opposite side of the room. Almost like part of him desperately wanted to run, but a bigger part of himself needed to be there.

“Are you feeling any nausea? Confusion? Loss of basic motor skills?” Denise suddenly asked, breaking the silence that’d stretched on, looking up from the textbook she was reading from. She’d never dealt with an ‘almost drowning’, but had been able to scrounge up some old medical textbooks for help.

“Uh,” you cleared your throat, shaking your head once. “No. No, nothing like that.”

“Okay, good. Yeah, that’s good…” she murmured, mostly to herself, before flipping to the next page and skimming the stretch of words. “Besides your forehead, any other lacerations?” she looked up at you once more, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“I don’t —” you shot Daryl a look, but he was too busy pacing to notice. “I don’t think so,” you shook your head again, your fingertips ghosting over the bandage Denise had patched your head up with.

“Good, good. We’ll want to keep an eye on that in case of infection,” she informed before flipping to the next page, mouthing the text to herself. “Okay, and any soreness?”

You grimaced as you sat up a little straighter. “Just — just right here mostly,” you admitted, motioning towards your center, below your chest.

Denise shut the textbook and placed it on the metal table you sat on top of. “Can you show me?”

Your brow knitted together but you obliged, sliding off the table and grabbing the hem of your shirt. You fought back a wince as you rolled the material up, stopping just below your chest, exposing your skin.

The first thing you noticed was the way the room suddenly stilled — you glanced up, spotting Daryl standing frozen across the way, pacing no longer. But he wasn’t staring at you — he was staring at your midsection, a look in his eyes you’d never seen before.

When you lowered your head, getting a good look at yourself for the first time, you realized exactly what he was seeing.

Bruises. Dark and discolored. Scattered down your sternum and along the center of your ribcage.

Your head snapped up at the sound of the front door slamming shut.

And Daryl was gone.

You tried to ignore the pinprick of tears that grew, the hurt that settled across your chest as you lowered your shirt back in place — but when Denise suddenly reached out and placed her hand on top of yours, patting it softly, your features crumpled.

Everything that happened seemed to catch up to you in that moment — the fear, the shock, what Daryl must’ve felt pulling your unmoving body out of the water. You’d nearly died. What would’ve happened if he hadn’t been able to bring you back? Would he have been the one to put you down when you undoubtedly turned? Or would Tara have done it — the act far too painful for the man you loved to follow through with.

The man you loved.

Denise wrapped her hand around yours, squeezing gently and drawing you back. “Hey, it’s okay,” she soothed.

You quickly swiped at the tears that slipped down your cheeks, huffing a hitched breath. “I know, I’m just —” you glanced up at the front door, hanging onto the foolish hope that it’d swing open once more. “I don’t know,” you finally mumbled, albeit defeatedly.

Denise followed your gaze, scoffing slightly. “Men suck,” she finally shrugged.

You sniffled softly before shaking your head. “Not that one,” you murmured fondly.

Denise squeezed your hand once more, shooting you a sympathetic smile before she pulled away. “It could’ve been worse — most people who have CPR done on them end up with broken ribs or punctured lungs. You, my friend, are one of the lucky ones.”

You inhaled a deep breath, fighting back a wince, the motion stretching your bruised body. “Thank you. For everything.”

Denise nodded before taking off her glasses, using the hem of her shirt to clean the lenses. “Y/N, I don’t mean to overstep my boundaries, but,” she paused, sliding her glasses back on as she regarded you seriously. “You smell like a sewer rat.”

You faltered, completely caught off guard by her statement before remembering that you were still wearing damp, swampy, pool water clothes. Then, despite everything, a laugh slipped past your lips, breaking the tension. You let out a hiss as the movement sent a wave of pain through you. “Ow, fuck, don’t make me laugh,” you bit back another chuckle, lightly swatting her arm.

Denise smiled before motioning towards the door. “Go home, shower, get some rest — Doctor’s orders,” she grinned, turning away and beginning to clean up her workstation.

You thanked her again before hobbling out of the infirmary.

As night drew near, most residents of Alexandria were already in their respective homes — you were grateful for that. You didn’t want to see anyone right now, their worry and endless questions something you were more than happy to put off until tomorrow.

When you made it back to the apartment you and Daryl shared, you were, yet again, fighting back feelings of disappointment — he wasn’t home. You felt a pinprick of worry, but knew he needed time and space to process whatever it was he was feeling.

And when he was ready, you would be too.

You walked through the kitchen, the morning you’d shared earlier feeling like a lifetime ago — the pan he’d used to make eggs, now dry, remained sitting on the counter. The bedroom was untouched, looking exactly how it had this morning, just the way you’d left it. You grabbed a fresh set of clothes before making your way into the master bathroom attached, ignoring the bone-deep tiredness settling over you.

Showering was a good call — the warm water rained down as you scrubbed your body of the muck that clung to you, being extra careful not to get the bandage on your head wet or make any sudden movements. When you were finished cleaning up, you stood beneath the shower head for a few minutes, eyes closed, inhaling the steam around you with deep, calming breaths.

You were okay. You were alive. You were here.

You shut off the water, stepped out of the shower, and dried yourself off, gingerly patting down your chest and around your ribs, before slipping into clean clothes. You wiped away some of the steam that’d collected on the bathroom mirror before hanging up your towel, combing out your knotted hair, and brushing your teeth — the same routine you did every night.

The normalcy was soothing — you were already beginning to feel better, more like yourself. You were ready to put what happened behind you and move forward, sure to never take another day for granted.

But when you opened the bathroom door, ready to curl up in bed and doze off, all of your feelings from earlier came rushing back at the sight of Daryl.

Once again, he’d been pacing the length of the bedroom, only stopping after you’d entered the room, his gaze snapping towards you. He shifted his weight back and forth, opening his mouth before clamping it shut. You could feel his energy, rolling off his body in waves — tense, rigid, wild. He was struggling to say whatever was on his mind, only furthering his evident frustration. He flicked his hair away from his eyes, turning to face you head-on, clearly gathering up the gall to speak.

You took a small step forward. “Daryl —”

“Ya were blue,” he suddenly rasped, a fire in his gaze that wasn’t there before. “Tara was shoutin’ for ya an’ I — when I went in an’ pulled ya out, there wasn’t — I didn’t —” he huffed a breath in frustration, his face tinged red. “God, damn it, Y/N, ya were fuckin’ blue,” he finally growled, chest heaving, hands balled into fists at his side.

His anger wasn’t directed at you, but the situation itself, you knew that. But still, his words — or more so the emotion, the truth hidden behind them — had you recoiling from him, your heart breaking at the thought of what he’d seen, of what had run through his mind when he realized you weren’t breathing.

You couldn’t imagine how scared he must have been.

And that was what was beneath his outburst — not rage, but fear.

But he wasn’t finished with what he needed to say — if anything, he was just getting more and more worked up as he began to frantically pace once more. “This is why — I fuckin’ told ya — I didn’t need ya comin’ out there. I didn’t need ya on that run but ya — ya didn’t listen ta’ me an’ then —”

“I love you.”

Daryl stilled, mid-stride, his gaze widening as if all of the air had been sucked from his lungs.

You felt your face flush, the air between you so thick it could be cut with a knife. You hadn’t meant to say that aloud, but the words just sort of…tumbled out? And now, there they were, hanging between you. Part of you wondered if the archer could hear your heart pounding from where he stood — or maybe it was his heartbeat, synched up to yours.

You sputtered a soft breath, shaking your head in disbelief, trying not to panic because the last thing you wanted was for Daryl to look at you the way he was looking at you after telling him you loved him. “I’m —“ you took a breath, regarding him earnestly. “I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. And I promise — I promise — you do not have to say it back. Hell, you don’t even have to feel the same way,” you huffed an awkward laugh, but the noise hitched somewhere in your throat, betraying your words. You grew serious once more. “I just — I couldn’t have another night going by without you knowing. Not after what happened today,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, shrugging a shoulder up meekly. “So, I love you — I love you more than anything.”

You weren’t sure what sort of reaction you were expecting from him. But you absolutely refused to acknowledge the tiny part of you that secretly wished he’d swoop you into his arms, pull you close, tell you he loved you too — because that wasn’t Daryl. That wasn’t the type of man he was — and you were okay with that.

Because you hadn’t fallen in love with that type of man.

You’d fallen in love with the man standing shell-shocked in front of you.

You cleared your throat and stepped forward, moving away from the bathroom doorway. “The shower’s all yours,” you murmured, needing to break the uncomfortable silence that carried on.

You sidestepped around his frozen form, ignoring the way your legs shook like jelly beneath you as you made your way towards the bed. You took a seat on the edge of the mattress, keeping your back towards him, staring ahead at the blank wall in front of you instead.

After what felt like forever, the floorboard squeaked beneath the shifting of his weight, his footsteps growing faint as he slowly walked away and entered the bathroom, closing the door shut after him.

You strained your ears, listening for any movement beyond the door he’d disappeared behind — but you heard nothing. It was like you could feel him through the panel of wood between you — you could almost picture him, just standing there, trying to process whatever the hell was going on inside that mind of his.

A moment later, the shower turned on.

And you released the breath you’d been holding.

Exhaustion swept through you, the day’s events wearing you down. You carefully maneuvered yourself into bed, pulling a thin sheet over your body and settling onto your side. Your eyelids grew heavy, the sound of the shower lulling you to sleep despite the strange, sort of freedom your admittance had brought you, the feeling buzzing through your veins.

You didn’t regret your vulnerability — he needed to know he was loved, damn it.

When you heard the shower turn off, you snapped your eyes shut. You listened to the archer move about the bathroom until the door finally creaked open. He seemed to be just standing there, and you could’ve sworn you felt him staring at the back of your head as if he was gauging whether or not you were actually asleep. But a moment later, you heard his footsteps padding across the bedroom before the mattress dipped beneath him.

You held your breath, covers drawn to your chin as Daryl shifted in bed, eventually lying down beside you. Another beat of quiet passed, neither of you moving, nor breathing it seemed.

But then suddenly, you heard him speak, so softly you almost missed it. “I know ya ain’t sleepin’,” he rumbled.

The corner of your mouth quirked up — because of course he knew.

You sighed, shifting gingerly onto your back, the sheet pooling at your waist as you looked over at him. He laid on his side, facing you, propped up on his elbow. He was dressed in clean clothes, his hair still wet from the shower, pushed back out of his face.

He really was rather beautiful.

“Busted,” you smiled, though the archer’s expression remained solemn.

Ever so gently, he reached towards you, his fingertip grazing the material of your shirt, over your ribcage, below your chest, hovering the bruises that lingered. “Does it hurt?” he rasped, the mouth turned downward into a small frown.

You shook your head. “Not really.”

Daryl’s eyes met yours, his expression skeptical and knowing.

You never were a good liar.

“At least you didn’t break a rib?” you offered sheepishly, your lame attempt at a joke falling flat given the current audience.

But when Daryl’s features fell, a flash of what looked like guilt settling over his face, you placed your hand on top of his, resting them against your stomach. “Don’t do that,” you murmured, reading him like a damn book as you rubbed circles with your thumb over the back of his hand.

The archer grumbled something indistinct, staring down at your intertwined hands.

Your grip tightened around his. “I mean it,” you spoke, an edge to your voice, only softening when he looked at you instead. “You saved my life, D — that’s it. You can let go of anything else you’re holding onto.”

Daryl’s lip twitched as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, seemingly mulling over your words.

You were sure he’d hang onto whatever unnecessary guilt he carried — because that was just who he was — but eventually, he nodded once and settled down on his back, staring up at the ceiling. You were too tired to press the subject further so you curled into his side and rested your head against his chest, winding your arm across his midsection. His arm automatically wrapped around you, his fingertips trailing absently up and down your spine, sending shivers through your body.

You weren’t sure how long you laid like that, melting into the warmth he exuded, the steady pounding of his heartbeat easing you to sleep.

You’d nearly faded away when Daryl suddenly spoke.

“Did ya mean it?” he rumbled, the noise vibrating from deep within his chest. “What ya said before?” he grunted, his hand pausing at the small of your back.

You could’ve imagined it, but you almost felt the slight tremble of his fingertips against your skin.

You slowly pushed up onto your elbow, your faces mere inches apart. You searched his uncertain gaze, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Of course I meant it,” you whispered. “Every damn word.”

Daryl’s eyes narrowed, as though not entirely believing what you said could be true.

So you leaned forward, closing the remainder of space between you, and pressed your lips gently against his. He returned the kiss, a quiet desperation growing as one hand came up to cradle the side of your face, his thumb sweeping back and forth across your cheek. You broke away from the kiss, brushing his hair back before meeting his lips once more, settling your hand on his chest, feeling his heart racing beneath your touch.

When you pulled back, you noticed his skin flush, surely mirroring your own. He looked up at you, slightly breathless, a fondness in his gaze that sent your stomach somersaulting. He cleared his throat, the ghost of a smile flickering across his face. “Well, alright,” he finally resigned, accepting your answer to his question.

You snorted a breathy laugh, leaning forward and kissing his cheek before burrowing against him. A soft sigh slipped past your lips as Daryl’s hold tightened around you, as though afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t.

You closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling of contentment, unsure how many more moments like this you, or anyone else for that matter, had left in this kind of cruel and harrowing world.

But for at least tonight, you could be at peace.

“I love you,” you murmured groggily, beginning to sink deeper into unconsciousness.

Right before sleep came, long after Daryl thought you’d drifted away, you heard him whisper three, simple words.

“More than anythin’.”

Then he pulled you closer and the world dimmed.

A/N: Aw...a happy ending! (I figured I owed ya after putting y'all through Honey & Whiskey lol)

P.S. Feedback is incredibly important. I write for my own happiness, but I also write for YOU. So don’t be afraid to shoot me an ask or leave a comment with your thoughts! It truly motivates me and helps move along the writing process. Also, please consider donating to my Tip Jar. Every little bit helps!

P.S.S. I can no longer tag people on this account, so my tag list has been transferred to my side blog @crossbowking2. If you’d like to be added/removed, please let me know!

456 notes · View notes

shoutogepi · 4 years ago

Text

Pink Handcuffs

┌───────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ─────────┐

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 6.7k

[ ✘ (𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰!), ☀︎ ] smut

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : switch!shouto, power play, bondage (cuffs), temperature play + food play, teasing, 69, begging, praise, baby/master dynamics, squirting, and a little aftercare <3

𝐛𝐢𝐨 : The only time you can tame your pro hero boyfriend is when he’s bound beneath you in pink, fluffy, quirk-cancelling cuffs.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : sooo u guys always are requesting sub sho, and i finally delivered hehe. this is my first time participating in a Sewer collab, ty to the mods who have been so sweet & welcoming to me even tho i’m shy and don’t talk too much 🤍 also i’m so sorry this is late, my bf decided to take me on a surprise vday trip!

𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : i actually think white chocolate is the inferior chocolate but i wanted it to look like cummies bc that’s hot soo… yeah this is the only acceptable situation to eat such an abomination imo ☺️

└───────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ─────────┘

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

There was absolutely nothing wrong with the ravioli you ordered, nor the appetizer that preceded and the dessert that followed. If anything, each dish was divine in its own respect— as they should be, coming from perhaps the most exclusive, romantic restaurant in the city. Especially on an occasion like today. But the thing was, you didn’t harbor much of an appetite for such luxuries. Not when your boyfriend was casting heart eyes directly at you all night, not even batting an absurdly long eyelash at the longing gazes of the other restaurant-goers.

You were hungry, alright. Just… for something else.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The leather of his loafers had been slowly rubbing against the exposed top of your foot throughout the meal, your heels not offering you much protection from his affectionate game of footsie. He had the nerve to reach across the linen tablecloth and lace your fingers with his, playing with them as he leaned in and allowed the flickering candlelight to wash his face with a romantic, warm glow. Ever the gentleman, he had offered you a spoonful of his risotto, and when you had returned the outstretched offering of your own meal, he locked eyes with you and allowed his tongue to wander out to caress the cutlery before he closed his lips around the silver, two-toned eyes glinting dangerously. You were sure your cheeks turned a temperature high enough to achieve the perfect sear of the wagyu on his plate.

It was criminal for him to be acting like this. To be giving you his undivided attention, to be looking at you as if you had hung the moon and all the stars. As if you were the moon and all the stars.

And for him to have shown up in such a devilishly handsome ensemble— a dark, charcoal suit with a crisp dress shirt, rolled up so that the lean muscle of his forearms was exposed to your ravenous eyes. The muted turquoise tie around his neck only made his left eye jump out at you, something he damn well knew you were defenseless against.

But it was that smirk that really got you going. That satisfied little curl to his perfect, pink lips. He knew what he was doing. He knew that he was going to be inside you in just a matter of time, however long it took for the pair of you to finish eating and get back to his apartment. And he thought he was going to ravish you as usual— and there was nothing wrong with that, really— you loved when he had his way with you. However, that wasn’t what was going to happen tonight. Tonight, he was yours, and he was going to be completely at your mercy.

So you let him have his fun at dinner. You let him fluster you and play with you, let him think he surely had the upper hand.

Because it would be that much more fun for you when he finally realized what he was in for…

⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆

You sat on the edge of the cloth sectional, upright and on guard as you awaited Shouto to return from the bathroom. Half of you had expected to be pressed against the wall the second you entered the premises, smothered in a passionate kiss and his hands messing up your styled hair. Instead, he’d taken the time to pour you a drink and freshen up from dinner, promising to return in a moment before he disappeared down the hallway. Little did he know, he had given you the perfect opportunity to hide your surprise underneath one of the couch cushions— the fuzzy, pink pair of handcuffs completely concealed underneath one of the many pillows that littered the area.

The music from the sound bar across the room was low and pleasant, the melody soothing to your frayed nerves. Your fingers played with the tassels on the corner of the pillow behind you, busying yourself as you allowed another gulp of wine to coast down your throat. This would be your first time… taking charge, so to speak, in your relationship with Shouto.

The dynamic between you was equal back and forth in all other aspects except for your sexual relationship— although sometimes he managed to sneakily pay for more of your dates than you liked to admit. You were still getting your footing as a couple, still in that unbelievable, all-consuming honeymoon phase where the pair of you were so obsessed with each other that your heart felt like bursting whenever his lips pressed against yours. So, taking this step— leap, rather— was quite a bold move.

Shouto returned from down the hallway, a gentle smile turning the corner of his lips upright. You could smell the cologne that wafted off of him as he moved to sit beside you on the couch, his arm naturally reaching out to lay behind your shoulders, allowing his warmth to spread and seep into your side.

“Would you like to watch something, love?” he inquired.

It was unfair of him to look that good while he was just asking you a simple question.

You fake-pondered the suggestion for a minute, entertaining him as the lust in his gaze only increased by the second. “Hmm… not really,” you replied honestly. “I kind of had something else in mind.”

He mirrored you as you tipped back the rest of your glass, setting the thin-stemmed crystal to the side. “Oh?”

His voice had dropped an octave, his eyelids drooping as you watched the salacious intent sharpen within his brilliant irises. It was almost too much, being the target of his desire— it made you forget for a moment that you were the one taking charge tonight. Only for a second, though.

“Yeah,” you whispered in the most wanton tone you could muster. You scooted closer to him, pressing up against his side fully, and placing your hand on his far shoulder. That took him by surprise, if the flicker of the emotion across his features was any indication. It was gone as soon as it came, but that was fine— you were just getting started, after all.

Shouto’s eyes met yours as your hand trailed up to cup his jaw, your heavy gazes locking just before your lips captured his. He was still for a moment, savoring the feel of your lips on his before he pulled you closer to him, his arm wrapping tight around the small of your back. It wasn’t long before the innocence of your initiation melted off, and his tongue greeted yours as you parted your lips for him. He tasted like the confection you had split for dessert, mixed with the tang from the wine you’d both just downed. His sweet tongue was a welcome flavor, brushing against yours as his hand moved to caress the back of your head. Time seemed to warp as you drowned each other in kisses, and you found yourself almost losing track of your plans once again. But you forced yourself to remain conscious of the situation— managing to take off his shirt and tie, revealing his sculpted torso to you.

Knowing that Shouto was just as consumed with the kiss as you were, you took the opportunity to sneak the handcuffs from underneath the cushion, balancing them on the top of the sofa skillfully. He sighed as you let your fingers slide through his silky locks, his breath hot on your slick mouth before his lips covered yours once again. Then, you trailed your nails down his forearms, grasp tightening around his wrists and pressing them up beside his head. You peeked at him through low-lidded eyes, reassured when you saw his eyes were shut and brow scrunched— seeming to enjoy your little power play, completely oblivious. A thrill struck through you as you swiftly transferred his wrists to the awaiting fluffy cuffs, the telltale click too fast for him to realize what was happening, for both his hands were secured in the device in under a second.

Shouto stiffened, his body jerking as he tried to move his hands to your sides. His eyes snapped open, looking to you in confusion before he glanced at his wrists, the pure shock blooming on his face, plain as day. You moved in to kiss the soft skin on his throat, taking the chance his surprise gave you as the wheels began to turn once again in his brain. Once he seemed to recuperate, his jaw hung open as he tried to find the right words— any words, really. But your lips on his neck only slowed him further, your hands slipping up to rub at his chest while you continued your ministrations. He tried to say your name in admonishment, but you crawled onto his lap at that exact moment, and it turned out sounding more like a moan instead.

“What… what is this, love?” He finally managed to ask, his voice deliciously low and gravely, rumbling against your front as you shamelessly pressed your body against his. He tipped his head back as you sucked at the skin beneath his jaw, holding in another moan while he inspected the cuffs further. “Where did you manage to get these?”

He was, of course, referring to the restraints around his wrists. He was right to question it— the cuffs around his wrists were the very same ones he saw on the daily, thanks to his profession. They were of professional grade— high caliber, quirk-canceling cuffs— identical to the pair that laid in the pack of his hero suit in his bedroom closet. He tried to activate his ice just a little, but wasn’t surprised to find his powers did not answer his request.

You stirred your hips around his lap, causing his attention to return to you instantly. His gaze grew more desirous as he inspected you, your insides fluttering with a quiet relief that he seemed into the whole charade. “I have my ways~” you replied vaguely. There was no way in hell you were going to bring up how you had to beg your friend Bakugou for months on end to get your hands on a pair of these babies. You could tell him that later, when your sexy-time was over. Instead, you kissed him again, brushing his corded neck with your thumbs on either side, cradling his face the way you knew he loved so dearly.

Shouto dropped it immediately, not wanting to push it when you were grinding on top of his lap, taking the reins and smothering him with your soft, sweet lips. “They’re pink,” he managed to observe, his breath getting choppy as you stole all of it away.

It was true, the cuffs boasted a fuzzy, pink material around the insides so that the restraints wouldn’t be so harsh against his pretty skin. The color looked simply divine on him, a perfect mix between the two shades of his hair. You had hot-glued the plush cloth to the cuffs the other day, and while it seemed like a ratchet method, it was the only way you could get the damn things to stick.

“They are pink,” you confirmed, brushing your lips against his ear, your teeth gently scraping on the outer shell. “You wanna know what else is pink?”

His hips bucked and his strong thigh pressed against your core through your clothes, pleasure shooting through you at the sudden stimulation. He answered without hesitation, “Yes. Yes, I do.”

You smiled at his honesty, confidence leaking into your veins from his agile reply. “Ask me nicely, and I’ll consider showing you.”

His eyes rolled back as you pressed down harder onto his lap, his slacks now forming a rather tight looking tent at the front, which you took full advantage of rubbing yourself against. “Please show me, Y/n. Show me what else is pink baby, please, I want to see…”

There was no way you weren’t going to oblige after that, so you smirked to yourself and got off his lap, moving to stand before him. Shouto scooted forward slightly, his legs spreading to showcase the length trapped between them as his eyes burned into yours. You took your time fiddling with the back of your dress, sliding the zipper down and then carefully slipping the garment off your shoulders and down your hips.

“Fuck.”

And there went the eloquence he was so renowned for.

Shouto’s tongue wandered across the bottom of his teeth as his eyes flicked up and down your body, taking in how the pink lingerie clung to every dip and curve on your body. The pure lust on his face made another wave of confidence surge through you, and you turned as you stepped out of the dress, making sure to shake your ass for him a little as you bent over.

“Get over here and take these off.”

You looked back at him, a mix of amused and aroused at his sudden change of inflection. He didn’t sound all that complacent now, his voice deep and demanding— the one that you were accustomed to whispering nasty things into your ear while he rearranged your guts.

“I don’t think so, baby.”

His brow rose the quickest you’d ever seen, the surprise evident on his face yet again. “Excuse me?” he balked.

You stood upright and turned to face him, unapologetic and unafraid as you stalked closer to his sitting form. Spreading your legs so that you were straddling him, you leaned into him, your face was right in front of his as you whispered, “I said, I don’t think so, baby.”

If he tried to stop the shiver that coursed through his body, it didn’t work. His eyes closed and he inhaled sharply as you rubbed yourself against his lap, your cunt dampening the lace that separated your core from his slacks. Your hands crawled down his torso, taking your time to knead the taut muscles that lined his front. When you reached the top of his slacks, you smirked and thumbed over the well-kept trail of red and white that disappeared underneath. You helped him maneuver so that he was rid of the luxurious clothing, leaving him only in a pair of boxer briefs that looked rather tight at the moment. His cock was visible through the dark material, a long and thick temptation to stray from your agenda.

“One sec,” you nearly giggled as you ran over to the kitchen, taking the bowl you had prepared when he was in the bedroom earlier from the microwave.

Shouto watched you from the couch, still trying to devise a plan to get out of his restraints and take his revenge on you. But that all slipped away the moment you returned and stooped to your knees in between his legs, and he could see what the contents of the bowl in your hands was, exactly. It looked like… milk?

As if you could read his mind, you drizzled some of the melted liquid off the spoon and onto your finger, offering him a taste. Like he had done in the restaurant, he made sure to keep your gaze as his tongue curled around your finger, lips closing and sucking the food in question off. His eyes lit up at the distinct sweetness, his mouth following your digit slightly as you pulled it back.

White chocolate.

You laughed to yourself, happy that he seemed interested— his cock jerking against his thigh when you took a spoonful and began to drizzle it over his chest. It was hot, the chocolate molten so that you had to trace over the lines you made swiftly with your tongue, ensuring it didn’t harden and stick to his skin.

Shouto started moaning as you licked up and down his body, watching as your pink muscle trailed around his body, all the while avoiding the one area he really wanted you to pay attention to. A dark spot had started to form at the tip of his cock, and he was painfully hard.

You suckled at one of his nipples, a spot which you knew he was especially sensitive to. He groaned as his head fell back against the cushions, rutting up against you with measured precision. It was hot having him under your complete control, having him squirm and moan beneath you, desperate for your touch. You were sure your panties were drenched by now, there was no way you weren’t with the way he was looking up at you.

Finally you moved your attention to his thighs, his ass moving off the couch instantly as your fingers curled into his underwear, dragging them down his legs and depositing them onto the floor. You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the sight of his erect cock, looking full and beckoning. The fucsia tip was engorged and shining with precum, evidence of his arousal that glistened in the low lighting and left a thin path down the length of him. The cool air of the room must have felt intense for him, for his length reached forward on its own, begging for your touch.

Shouto said your name lowly, gravel in his voice as he watched you eye his cock. He damn well knew that you were thinking about how good it would feel to just slip your panties to the side and press him inside of you, how amazing it would be to have him stretching your cunt with his cock. He was sure that he would slip right in, too— he didn’t have any doubt that you were wet from teasing him like this.

You kept his gaze as you spooned around the outline of his flushed member, from one thigh to the other, along the bottom of his abs and over his prominent V. The fire in his eyes only ignited further as he watched your tongue move across his skin, the white liquid pooling against the muscle and gathering in your mouth. His cock strained as it tried to reach for you, wanting for you to milk its own white liquid from it instead of the melted chocolate. Then, you were climbing onto his lap again, offering the melted candy to him while you gripped his shoulders.

His tongue met yours with enthusiasm, sweeping off the chocolate and collecting it into his mouth. You moaned as he eagerly took the liquid from you, taking his time afterwards so that his tongue mingled with yours, enrapturing you in another kiss. Once again his hips jerked up against you, his cock dragging across your clit through your lingerie. You tried to scowl at him, but it felt too good and you ended up letting out a soft mewl instead.

Shouto looked pleased as the noise slithered out of you, his arms straining to reach for you but the cuffs stopping him from doing so. He growled at the restraints, the short chain clinking as he fought against it futilely. “Y/n, please,” he huffed, irritated. “Just take these off and I’ll reward you.”

Shaking your head, you gyrated across his lap again, eliciting a groan from him. “What if I just take the reward for myself?” you purred, getting up and pushing him down to lay back onto the couch.

He was about to object when you slipped your panties down your thighs. Voice caught in his throat, he watched a strand of slick stretch between them and your cunt before he shut his mouth and leaned back, complacent. He seemed to understand what you wanted, keeping his arms still above his head as you slipped your legs between them, then planting your knees beside his neck. He clicked his tongue at your demand, but he didn’t wait long before he split your folds with it instead.

You could feel him smirk against your cunt when you moaned, the direct stimulation strong enough to make your toes curl already. The position allowed him to cup your ass with his hands, fingers digging into your plush flesh as he moved the skilled muscle to trace along your clit. He switched between kissing the bundle of nerves and sucking on it, savoring the way your legs began to shake on either side of his head.

All the while, you busied yourself with kissing down his chest, slowly getting closer and closer to his cock that was leaking onto his toned stomach. You didn’t bother with the chocolate any more, and you didn’t care to tease him either— you wrapped your hand around him and took the head into your mouth, moaning as your lips pulled tight around him.

“God— so good, baby” Shouto gasped, throbbing in your hand as his fingernails dented the skin on your ass. He moaned into your pussy, pushing his tongue inside your entrance and moving it feverishly against your velvet walls. His hips drove up and you gagged around his cock, which only made him pull your body tighter against his face, working harder against your cunt. The pre helped him slide into your throat easier, your spit beginning to drip down his length as you struggled to pace yourself, head bobbing as best you could.

He continued to slurp at your entrance vigorously, even with the restraints making it hard for him to hold onto you. You could feel his smooth hair tickling the insides of your thighs as your hips swung back and forth over his mouth, your fingers cutting shallow grooves into his thighs as you slid his length along your tongue.

“Fuck, just like that,” you paused, saliva shining on your lips as you glanced down at Shouto, his tongue rubbing at your clit with steady licks. You took a moment to enjoy the view, his chiseled jaw protruding as he ravaged your sex, having abandoned any defiance he previously harbored. You luxuriated in another minute of his sensual efforts before you moved your hips back, carefully taking your legs out from between his arms and moving so that Shouto was sat upright, and you were hovering over his lap again.

A silvery sheen covered the bottom half of Shouto’s face, his eyes blazing into yours as he wiped his chin with the back of his cuffed hand, then licking his lips. Even if you were the one in charge here, he knew how to rile you up, and he certainly knew how to deliver as well. You just didn’t expect for him to try to fluster you.

“Did that feel good, Master?”

You sputtered at the sudden title, eyes wide and body still while you lingered above his lap, his hard cock grazing your slick thighs. Your mouth hung open as you tried to formulate words, the shock evident on your face. “I—”

Shouto seemed charmed by your lack of response, your brain still buffering as you tried to process what he had just called you. He raised his cuffs over his head, settling into the couch while he thought he had managed to snag the upper hand from you.

Like hell you were going to pass him the reins.

“That felt so good, baby,” you purred, enjoying the shock that suddenly appeared in his vibrant irises. You dragged your hand down his chest, fingertips bumping over one of his rose-colored nipples. “You’re such a good boy for me.”

His cock smacked against your thigh, your eyes glinting down at him as his body betrayed him in his fleeting attempt to hide his response to your praise. Suddenly the mischievous look in his gaze had dissipated, melting into longing instead. He seemed confused by the sudden change of emotion, but you didn’t give him long to contemplate it— you lightly drew your nails down his abdomen and grasped his cock, a startled noise sounding from his throat. Tracing the swollen head against your slit, you doused him with your arousal, teasing the pair of you as you dipped the tip just barely inside before rearing back. You half expected him to thrust up and sheathe himself inside of you, but he only laid there beneath you, watching your core glide against his length in assent. His legs twitched with the urge to feel your silky cunt around him, but he remained still, athletic thighs strained while his hips wiggled just barely. His eyes widened as you turned around, presenting your bare ass to his gaze and allowing your cunt to part, dragging it along the vein on the underside of his erection.

“Aha—” he sucked a breath in through his grating teeth, brow furrowed and gaze focused on where your bodies connected on his lap. “Please Y/n…”

You looked over your shoulder at him, catching how his pupils were dark and full of lust. There was nothing you wanted more than to stuff him inside you already, but you had to hear him utter it one more time before you allowed the both of you to sink into pleasure. “Please, what, Shouto?”

His gaze lifted from his lap to meet your eyes, full of desire. He whispered, this time much more shameful than the last, “Please sit on my cock… Master.”

You smirked, straightening your hips over his, arching your back, and sinking down onto his awaiting length. Impaling yourself with his cock always hurt at first, the girth of him stretching your sopping core like nothing else— no one else— could. It was impossible to stop yourself from crying out, agreement coming from Shouto in prefect harmony. The cuffs clinked as his hands flew down to grab your waist, awkwardly placing them on your lower back as he couldn’t grab you as he desired, thanks to the pink, fuzzy restraints.

“Good boy~” you moaned, ass jerking back to swing your hips down onto the tops of his solid thighs. There was a ridiculous amount of pleasure that coursed through you with each rut of your hips against his, beginning to find a rhythm as the lewd smacks interrupted the soft music humming from the other side of the room. His cock jumped in response to your praise, stretching to press into a spot nestled deep inside your gummy walls.

Shouto watched you shiver through hooded eyes, feeling your cunt clench down onto him as your hips pushed down to get his cock to press harder inside of you. “Fuck, that feels so good,” he groaned, head tossing back over the back of the sofa, a long moan following.

“Oh God,” you whimpered, knees pushing into the cushions so you could find an arch that allowed the very tip of him to relocate the same angle, again and again. Your slick started to drip down your thighs and onto the tops of his, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease. You felt like your stomach was on fire with how turned on you were— having him at your complete mercy made your cunt tighten around him, lust clouding your head.

One of your hands moved behind you and planted on his abs to help leverage your weight as you bounced on his lap, the other hand sneaking between your legs to toy with your neglected clit. Shouto whined when your fingers touched the sensitive nub, your pussy squeezing his cock even tighter at the stimulation. It felt amazing to rub yourself with his cock plunging deep inside of you, your slick bountiful enough to spread across your clit and aid your efforts.

You kept up the pace, your thighs beginning to tremble as the pressure in your stomach continued to heighten. All the while, Shouto was moaning from beneath you, trying to hold his noises of content back, but failing each time. His large, rough hands trailed up and down your spine while you humped his lap, the metal of the cuffs a sharp contrast on your skin from the soft, pink cloth you fixed onto them.

“Slow down, love,” he choked out, the words heavy in his throat. There was no way he was going to last at the pace you were setting, not after you had handcuffed him, sucked him off, and started throwing your ass back onto his lap. You didn’t want to stop, but you knew that if you ignored his plea he was going to cum too soon. “Wait—” he whined when you got off his lap, standing up and turning around, letting him watch as you unhooked your bra.

You didn’t make him wait long, though. Your knees sank bank into the cushions on either side of him, but this time, your front was facing him. Shouto took in the sight of your naked chest gratefully, taking it upon himself to slip one of your nipples into his mouth. Guiding his wet cock back between your legs, you exhaled as you lowered yourself onto him again. Teeth grazed across your chest, your fingers winding through the short hairs at the back of his neck and carding through them. The new position allowed him to reach new depths when you fully sat on his lap, your toes curling at the edge of the cushion. You rolled your hips in slow and precise circles, grinding his length inside of you brazenly.

Leaning in so that your teeth could pinch at his bottom lip, you forced him to look up at you, savoring the fucked-out expression painted across his handsome features. “Fuck baby, your cock feels so good inside me,” you whispered, lips trailing across his cheek so that you could nip at his ear and test your newfound discovery another time. “You’re such a good boy, Shouto~”

Pure euphoria crashed through you as he bucked his hips up, slamming his cock balls-deep inside of you. You knew that you were supposed to be the dominant one right now, but it was impossible to keep the moan his action induced inside.

“Anything for you, Master,” he grunted, a sinful crackle in his tone as his tongue traced over your collar bone.

It didn’t help that his voice was so damn deliciously low— he was already sexy enough on his own. But when he had you all to himself, he stepped it up another level that none could ever imagine existed— the side of him that was devoted to your pleasure, the side of him that was dedicated to pulling orgasm after orgasm from your body until you were left boneless and breathless.

Shouto began to bounce you on his lap slightly, meeting you each time your hips fell down so that he could push entirely inside of you every time. You didn’t want to let him take over just yet, but his hips never seemed to tire, even now when yours began to tremble with exertion. That familiar pressure was back and building again, faster than last time in between your hips. Shouto was well aware of your declining energy, his hands cupping your breasts and thumbing over the hard buds on each one, the cuffs digging into your middle with each thrust.

“Take the cuffs off, Y/n,” he murmured, fingers twisting at your nipples gently. Then he started to suck a hickey into your cleavage, his cool breath making goosebumps appear on your skin.

“No,” you gasped as you dropped particularly hard onto his cock, silky inner walls spreading especially deep as his length pressed inside of you. “I can’t— have to make you feel good —agh, fuck!”

He flashed you a short smile, huffing as you continued your efforts on his lap. “I feel good when you feel good,” he replied, pinching at you harder, relishing the sweet moan that tumbled from your open mouth. “Please, I’ll behave, promise.”

You didn’t need to hear anything else from him, leaning back and swiping the key from underneath the book on the coffee table— where you had stashed it when you hid the cuffs in the first place. As soon as the cuffs were off, Shouto tossed them to the other side of the room, the pink restraints clattering as they landed somewhere on the floor. His hand immediately gripped your waist, fingers spreading out across your lower back, and tilting you back slightly while he leaned forward, thrusting up into you with fervor. The other hand made a makeshift ponytail of your hair, pulling it so your throat was exposed with your head thrown back.

The sudden change in angle elicited a pathetic mewl from your chest, his cock hammering into your g-spot at such a pace that you were instantly brought to the brink of an orgasm. You clung onto his shoulders for dear life, his head buried in your neck while he sucked his mark into your skin, the wet, quick slaps of your fronts meeting repeatedly echoing through the apartment rhythmically.

“S’That feel good, Master?” His tongue trailed up your throat and he nibbled at your ear, just as you had done to him just minutes ago.

You could barely think, your cunt pulsing as you got closer and closer to cumming right around his cock, your fingernails digging into the thick muscles that lined his shoulders. “Y-Yes, fuck— so good— such a good boyyy~” you cried, tears gathering to dot along your lashline, your body overwhelmed with the ecstasy rushing through your entirety. “God, Shouto— I, I’m gonna—”

“Do it, love,” he ordered, hands dropping so that each cupped an ass cheek, spreading your legs even more so that each thrust was ensured to drive as deep inside of you as possible. He could feel your pussy clamping down on him, squeezing his cock hard enough that you must’ve been right on the edge, just needing that extra little push. “Please— ahh fuck, I— I want you to cum on my cock. Cum for me, Master.”

That was all it took for you to be creaming on his length, your body quivering in his hands as your cunt fluttered with bliss. It felt like the world was crumbling away and that Shouto and you were the only two people on the planet, like he was pouring oxygen into your veins just as you were about to run out of breath.

As you were still in the throes of your orgasm, Shouto maneuvered you so that your back was pressed up against the top of the coffee table in front of the couch, falling to his knees and throwing your shaking legs over his shoulders. The bowl of white chocolate and the magazines in the corner of the table fell down onto the hardwood floor, but neither of you were paying attention to the sound of the ruckus.

He began fucking you then, his hands clasping your thighs so that your body stayed close enough for him to slam his hips into yours without mercy. “Fuck Y/n, you’re so sexy, look at you, baby,” he hissed, taking a moment to examine your puffy cunt, spitting on it crudely before a thumb began to rub at your clit earnestly. “I’m your good boy, huh? See how good I fuck my Master?”

“Oh God— oh, fuck Shouto, yes! Don’t stop!” you exclaimed, and somehow, even though you were still cumming from before, another pressure started to build in your stomach, gathering faster than you could comprehend.

A heightened euphoria rushed through your nerves and tickled at the ends of your limbs, different from before. You whimpered when you realized what was happening, but by then it was too late to warn him— Shouto was pounding into you relentlessly, and his thumb steady on your clit only made your high arrive even faster. A strangled moan slipped out of you as clear liquid splashed across his abdomen, your body shivering and convulsing as it struggled to handle the pleasure he delivered to you. You had certainly orgasmed before, but this was as if the pleasure you had felt increased tenfold, leaving you truly wrecked and exhausted.

You were still squirting as you came to, and when you were finally able to look at him, you watched as he stroked his slick cock with ferocity. His eyes were focused on your soaked thighs before they closed and he groaned deeply, ribbons of white spurting past his hand and splattering across your breasts and stomach. His palm slapped onto the tabletop beside your waist while he hunched forward, out of breath as pleasure wracked through his fit body, the muscles that lined his torso heaving while his pink cock throbbed in his hand.

Your head fell back onto the table as you recuperated, shocked that he had just made you squirt all over him, and then he proceeded to cum at the sight, painting you white with his spend. Another minute passed and you were still trying to find your breath, coming down from your high, even though Shouto had already recovered from his.

A warm hand cupped the back of your neck, and you opened your eyes, realizing suddenly that you were secure in his arms, moving past the messy living room and down the hallway to his bedroom. His lips pressed against your forehead softly when he entered his room, your heart skipping a beat in your chest as you took in the dozens of lit candles that lined the walls and windows. It only continued when he turned into the ensuite, the bath filled with cloudy pink water, flower petals floating on the still surface and littering the surrounding tiles.

“Shouto— this is…” you tried to sit up in his arms, but he only held you tighter against his chest. There was a proud look that lingered in his eye, yet he only offered you a soft smile as you looked between him and your surroundings. No one had ever committed such a romantic act for you before, and you sure as hell hadn’t been expecting such a suave move from your boyfriend of a couple months.

So this is what he must’ve been doing when you had returned from dinner.

“There were bubbles, but someone distracted me and they must’ve popped while we were preoccupied,” he explained, fingers brushing a strand of hair to the side of your face.

“I— it’s perfect, baby,” you chirped as enthusiastically as you could, your body still drained from the exertion of two consecutive orgasms. “Thank you, I love it.”

He hummed as he shifted your weight to one arm, reaching out and activating his quirk to heat the water to the right temperature again. You sat in his arms, satiated and more content than ever as you surveyed his handsome face. Surely there would be hearts in your eyes, with how loved you felt in this moment.

Once he was satisfied with the warmth the water offered, he stepped into the tub, slowly submerging the two of you in the pleasant-scented bath. The warmth flooded into your tired bones, your body happy to be swaddled in his embrace as he held you close. You hummed as you rested your head against his chest, hand coming to rest beside your face.

“How’s the water? Just let me know and I’ll fix it to your liking… Master.”

You scoffed and slapped at his chest, the pink water splashing across his pale skin. He donned a genuine smile at the sound of your laughter, calloused fingers stroking down your spine. “Shut up,” you managed, cupping his neck and pressing a kiss to his throat to show your words held no real intent, “It’s perfect, I mean it. Thank you, Sho.”

Shouto’s smile remained, his eyes soft as his leg curled around one of yours beside the porcelain of the tub. “You deserve it,” he murmured, thumb swiping across your cheek to rid you of a water droplet that had splashed onto you from your attack. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

happi belated vday babes!! <3 once again, sorry it’s late~ I hope you all had a good one tho!! :3 love y’all <3 <3 <3

➥ masterlist

1K notes · View notes

tails89 · 3 years ago

Text

“You’re coming back to my place.” Eddie doesn’t give him a chance to argue, tossing Buck his shoes and gathering up his wallet and keys from the plastic chair. He glances up, taking in the stubborn set of Buck’s chin. “Seriously Buck, I’m not letting you go back to your apartment when you can barely walk let alone make it up those stairs.”

“Nothing’s broken,” Buck argues. “Just bruised, I’ll be alright on my own.”

Eddie tucks his wallet into his pocket and turns to face the bed, hands on hips. “Alright then, put your shoes on without any help and I’ll let you go home.”

Reaching for one of the boots, Buck stares down at his feet. He entertains the idea bending down to reach them for all of a second, before looking up at Eddie in defeat.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” Eddie tells him, smug as he crouches with the left boot, holding it open for Buck to slip his foot into. He repeats the gesture with the other boot. “I don’t understand why you don’t want to come home with me,” he says, tying the laces. “You're usually over six nights out of the week anyway.”

Buck shrugs. He regrets it instantly when his side pulls with the motion. The painkillers he’d been given earlier are starting to wear off, and with nothing actually broken, he’ll have to make do with ibuprofen. The next few days are going to suck.

“I— this is going to sound so stupid.” Buck pauses, unsure how to put it into words.

Eddie takes a seat beside him on the bed. “Try me.”

“When I was a kid, the only time parents paid attention to me was when I was hurt.” He can’t look at Eddie when he says it, choosing instead to focus on one of the grazes on his hand. “And I’d seek it out, put myself in situations where it was more likely to happen.” He glances up, sees Eddie has his mouth open to say something. “Don’t— I know this isn’t news to you, but just let me finish.” He waits for Eddie to nod before continuing. “I wanted the attention. God, I craved it, but I know now it’s— it was the wrong kind of attention.”

“So you’d rather hide in your apartment than let someone take care of you?” Eddie guesses.

“I know it’s different now, with you and Chris, and I guess— now it’s just a reminder of all the stupid things I’ve done.”

“You know, regardless of whether you’re injured or not— though I’d prefer you're not,” Eddie teases, bumping their shoulders together, “You’re always going to have my attention. That’s just how this works.” He reaches for Buck’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “So come home with me, where you belong, where Chris is waiting for us.”

And that word, belong, sparks something in Buck’s chest that grows, spreading warm and fuzzy thought him.

“Okay.” Buck eases himself off the bed, but doesn’t let go of Eddie’s hand. “Take me home.”

#911 fanfic #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #hurt/comfort #these are getting cheesier and cheesier #and I'm not even sorry #my911fanfic

41 notes · View notes

pleasantanathema · 4 years ago

Text

Zeke Yeager | Give and Take

Pairing: Zeke Yeager x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Warnings: Spitting, Degradation, Established Relationship, Smoking Cigarettes, Zeke has leather gloves

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: This is part of my Nine Muses Event to celebrate 9k! Follow the link to read more fanfics I’m writing to celebrate. 💛

“I’m going to devour you,” the leather was cold, the black stitching methodically tracing over naked skin, “piece by little piece.”

Gloved fingers pressed into your cheeks, “Open your mouth.”

But you liked denying him, got the same sick pleasure brewing in your stomach that he did from the chase.

He had you on your knees—again. He always liked you in some subservient position, something that made it look like you were willing. You could still smell his cigarette smoke from your place on the floor, the cherry burning like hellfire in a dark room. Zeke leaned forward on his couch, thighs spreading wider, thumb sinking deeper into your soft cheek.

“Open your fucking mouth. And I swear to god if you say ‘make me’ I’ll unhinge your fucking jaw.”

You reluctantly did as you were told, even letting your tongue loll out of your mouth just how he liked. The taste of leather, of pine and tar and something chemical, hit your tongue, his gloved thumb and index finger pulling at the wet muscle, “and I want you to say thank you, this time.”

There was no time to protest, the muffled sound of swishing hitting your ears just before a string of spit pooled against your pulled, awaiting tongue. It tasted like smoke and ash, like the menthols he smoked. It always tasted the same, tasted like Zeke.

He released your tongue and you made a show of swallowing thickly, letting that gulp satisfy him.

You didn’t give him thanks. You didn’t want to, just like you told yourself you didn’t want him.

“One day you’ll do as you’re told,” his glove wrapped around your throat, thumb pressing below your jaw as he pulled you up, had you clambering into his lap.

He was fully clothed, pristine dress shirt untucked from designer pants, brands only a conceited business man wears in winter. And that’s just how he liked it; he felt the power in having you strip in front of him and kneel before him naked. Even if it meant your drooling pussy would leave a stain on his trousers before he was done.

“Why don’t you see how you taste?” You pulled at his blonde head, fingers tying in his hair like knots.

Glasses glinted in time with his glare, something snarky ready to spill from curling lips, only to be stifled when you plucked the cigarette from his mouth to puff on it yourself. Smoke filled your lungs and nicotine made your head feel high, fuzzy, just enough to cement your courage.

“Open your mouth,” you mimicked him, pads of your fingers pressing into bearded cheeks.

“Dangerous game you’re playing, kid.”

“What? Afraid you’ll like it?”

You didn’t wait for his smart answer. When full lips parted, you pushed your open mouth against his, letting spit drool onto his tongue and spill from the sides of his mouth. The leather of his gloves warmed against your hips as he gripped you tighter in response, hard cock straining against his belt.

The cigarette in your hand felt heavy as you kissed him, sloppy with spit and messy with mewls and groans. For a moment you thought about ashing the smoldering stick against his skin, to watch him burn and hiss. But you weren’t mean, not like him. Instead you let it drop carelessly into the wood of the floor, left to fade out as you two came alive.

“Think you’re clever,” Zeke purred into your mouth, coarse hairs of his beard scratching at your cheeks, his fingers skimming over your hips, thumbs circling over your lower stomach before venturing farther south, “stupid little whore.”

He didn’t even prep you, he knew he didn’t have to, already knew you were wet and willing as he pushed two gloved fingers inside of you. You gasped as he breached that first tight ring of muscle, your hand in his hair twisting as your back arched from the pleasure. He pumped the digits a few times, letting your slick coat and stain expensive leather. Those long fingers curled inside of you, felt both foreign and familiar as the thick textile petted your most sensitive, spongy spots.

“Fuck, that’s not fair,” you whined as his other hand wrapped around your breast, leather creaking as he toyed with your nipple.

“All’s fair in love and—”

Your nails scraped against his face in warning, “Don’t finish that. This isn’t—” you lost your words when his thumb swiped across your clit. Hot, piercing pleasure raced down your legs, making them shake. Your knees sunk deeper into the cushions and you held on to slim, broad shoulders for balance.

“Oh please, you love my fingers stuffed in your cunt,” your head fell as he spoke, panting against his neck as he continued his assault, “and let’s not forget how much you love my cock.”

You were ready to melt, little drips and pulls of ecstasy blooming over your body and following his cruel fingers. He spread his fingers apart inside of you, slick sloshing and squelching with every push of his hand, lewd sounds making you whimper as you tried to tighten your muscles and hold back an impending orgasm. He didn’t deserve the satisfaction of making you cum on his fingers—again.

“I feel you squeezing. Fuck, want that tight pussy on me. Unbuckle my belt.”

Your hands acted on their own accord, sliding down his chest as he continued to play with you, your hands fumbling with the metal frame before pulling at his button and zipper. You masked the hitch in your breath by sucking at his neck when your hand snaked around his fat cock. It was unfair that he was given something so big to back up his attitude.

“Getting needy?”

You didn’t have to answer, he got his satisfaction from feeling your teeth bite into his throat when he replaced the thumb on your clit with the heel of his palm, letting you grind down against him for friction as his fingers speared up into you. You were so close, so, so close to falling off the edge, the steady build of orgasm ready to burst with just the right touch.

But Zeke had the power to take away that pleasure, and he did, removing his fingers from your hole and swatting your hand away from his cock so he could pump the shaft and smear your slick across the head. Just as he was able to take, he was able to give, not wasting time to pull your hips down to have you start sucking in his cock.

“Z-Zeke,” it was just a hot breath mumbled into his throat, your sanity fading as he slowly started to fill you. Your pussy burned from the spread, every thick vein pumping against your walls and making you crazy. He always felt so good, like liquid sin, like something that crawled out of Pandora's box that you weren’t supposed to have.

“Like how my name sounds in your mouth,” he grunted, head falling back against the sofa as his gloved thumb found your clit as your pussy fluttered around half the cock inside of you, “say it again and I’ll let you cum right now.”

You, however, hated how his name filled the spaces in your mouth, hated how it felt too heavy on your tongue, hated how it was so stupid that his name was just Zeke. Not Ezekiel. Not even fucking Zachary. Just Zeke and all his arrogance and pride and unbearable hubris. But you’d be damned if he didn’t have the best, most filling cock, one that was making your mouth go dry even as he continued to sink inside of you.

Your lips found his again, letting his eager tongue lick at your teeth and swallow your sounds.

“Please, Zeke, pl-ah,ah,” he drew fast circles on your clit, open and ready for him to abuse from where it was spread over his cock.

You broke within seconds, screaming, clenching, clawing at his shirt as you were punched in the gut with euphoria. You felt too tight, like you were wringing the life out of him as you went numb with pleasure and creamed around him.

Zeke was caught up in your waves, being drug down into your current, even though his cock was barely seated inside of you.

“Holy fucking shit, s-so good, fuck, fuck.”

Your body took from him just like he took from you, the pride draining from his face as you milked his cock from the strength of your orgasm alone. You were sure that your bliss extended just from the sweet burst of victory you felt in your chest, a smile breaking over your face as your high spiraled.

“God, you’re so fucking weak,” you chided, feeling his cum start to leak down his cock to pool in blonde curls. Your wet cunt finally took all of him in, making him groan from the sensitive feel of having you envelope him fully. His glasses were slipping down his nose as he stayed silent, chest full of deep breaths.

“I’m just getting started,” he rocked your hips in his lap, cockhead brushing your walls, “want you dripping with my cum for days.”

#Zeke Yeager smut #Zeke smut #Zeke x reader #Zeke Yeager x reader #Zeke yeager #Zeke jeager #zeke jeager x reader #snk zeke #aot zeke #aot #snk #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #aot fanfic #snk fanfic #Zeke Yeager fanfic

729 notes · View notes

enbyprentiss · 4 years ago

Note

PLEASE sub spence in a skirt wrapped in intricate rope and with a vibe up his ass I NEED THIS PLEASE

i got you, bb;)

Genre: Smut, obv

Pairing: Sub!Spencer x Fem!Reader

Warnings: anal play, handjob, shibari/rope play, praise kink(with some sly degradation), mommy kink (because would it really be my fic if there wasn’t a mommy kink), hair pulling, implied aftercare, I think that’s it but lmk if I missed anything!

Y/N really put her boyfriend to the test this week. And yes, he is a genius, so if it were any other kind of test he would pass with flying colors anyway. But when it came to things like these, he typically cracked under pressure. Everywhere they went, she made sure to assert her dominance over him in every minuscule way possible. Usually, it was just something as simple as carrying his bag or some extra books for him. Then, it was seizing any opportunity she had to physically tower over him, gripping and pulling his hips closer to hers anytime she walked past. And when she was feeling extra devilish, Y/N would steal kisses and lingering touches only to leave her poor little Spencer high and dry.

He knew the rules she had set up.

No touching or touching yourself, this whole week. If you can handle a week of little to no touching and absolutely no cumming, then you’ll be rewarded.

There were several times throughout the week where he considered going behind her back and break the rules. But he really wanted to be her good boy. He did love all of his ‘punishments’ but he knew that if he couldn’t handle this simple test, the punishment would be 10x worse. And Y/N fully expected Spencer to cave and just accept that he’s not a good boy. Sure, she was excited to deliver punishment, but she was even more excited to give her boy the reward he rightfully earned.

The case they were on had postponed Spencer's treat. So naturally, he was huffy and puffy the whole time. Containing it fairly well in front of the team and local officers, but falling apart the second he got into the hotel room with Y/N. Sitting in front of her, laying his head in her lap, whining and begging for just something small now. And after being reminded that she could take away his reward at any time, he decided to suck it up the best he could.

Spencer was practically jumping up and down watching Y/N unlock the door to their shared apartment. As soon as she'd turned the key, he burst through the door putting his bags down and unlacing his Converse at a record speed. Y/N couldn't help but watch in amusement as she discarded all of her extra things. When she saw the dopey look on Spencer's face she couldn't help but melt into his desires. She moved closer to him, lacing her fingers through some of his light brown locks, turning her head to the left, bumping their noses together briefly before melding their lips together. She lightly brushed her tongue against his lower lip, making him groan slightly into the kiss. She earned a long whine from him when she pulled away.

"Excited, baby?", she tucked a stray curl behind his ear as he nodded, "Use your words, honey."

"Yes, mommy."

"Good. Now, go into our room and get ready for me."

He scurried down the hall to their bedroom. Spencer stripped of all of his work attire, swapping it for just a lavender pleated skirt and mismatched thigh-highs. He sat on his knees, getting antsier and antsier as more time passed. After what felt like an eternity, Y/N came in beaming at him with a pleased smile.

"You look so pretty, baby. Such a sweet boy."

"Mommy?"

"Hm?"

"M-matching?", he stuttered out with a heavily present blush on his face.

"You want us to be matching?"

"Ye-yes, please."

She made it a point to reassure him, seeing that he was already fairly fuzzy before retrieving the same skirt and stockings that he had on. When Y/N returned, Spencer's eyes lit up with the extra goodies she had brought along with her. Choosing to save that sight for later, she sat next to him on the bed, connecting their lips again and muttering through kisses.

"Do you know why you're being rewarded?"

"Because--I-I didn't touch myself or cum all week."

"That's right. And actually, you went 10 whole days with no touching or cumming. You're such a good boy.", she raked her nails down his pale chest lightly, watching the way his cock twitched under his skirt from the praise, "Oh, you like that, don't you? Like hearing what a perfect boy you are for me?", she began palming him over the fabric.

"Mhmf! Yes, mommy. Wanna be so good for you--be your best boy!", he yelped as she flipped his skirt up, the cool air nipping at his skin."

"You are my best boy. So, I need you to get on your hands and knees ok?", he muttered a small 'Ok.' and did as he was told. Y/N coated her fingers in lube and rubbed them together attempting to warm it up before applying a generous amount to Spencer's entrance and the toy. She pressed the toy up against him, teasing him with it and then turning on the vibrations, earning a breathy moan. Remembering that this was indeed a reward, she gave up the teasing and pushed the toy fully into him as he moaned out shamelessly. She left the vibrations on the lowest setting, helping him sit fully on his knees, "Mommy's going to tie you up now, ok? Do you know your safe word?"

"Encyclopedia."

"Good.", she took one strand of the light pink rope, finding the ends first. She began tying intricate knots to create a double-column tie from ankle to thigh and then repeated the same actions on his other leg, creating a sort of 'frog tie' that left his legs spread just far enough, "Is that ok? Not too tight?"

"No, it's good, mommy.", as he finished his sentence, Y/N turned to the settings of the toy up higher, making his face contort and his exhales shaky.

"Does that feel good, baby?", she asked while planting soft kisses on his neck.

"Y-yes! Feels so good--ah!"

Y/N's hand traveled to flip the fabric of the skirt up and stroke his cock while she sucked bruises all the way down to his collar bone, "Made me so proud this week. I have such a good little slut.", she pumped her hand up and down faster as he struggled to buck his hips upward.

"Ah-ah-ah! Mommy! C-can I cum, please?!"

"Go ahead, baby. You can cum whenever you want."

"Oh! Thank you, mommy!"

Y/N spread around the white thick ropes that soiled his skirt, coating her fingers in it and putting them in Spencer's mouth as she upped the vibrations. His tummy tensed as he reached out for anywhere he could possibly touch Y/N while whining louder around her fingers from the overstimulation.

"Shh, it's alright. Do you want to stop?", she removed her fingers and smiled warmly at him.

"Not yet, please."

"Ok. Whatever you want. This is for you, for making me so proud of you, remember?"

He nodded, "W-will you--um pull on my hair, please?", his eyes scrunched and his teeth clamped back down onto his bottom lip as soon as the words escaped.

"Of course, sweet boy.", she grabbed a fistful of curls, pulling his head back slightly and leaving more searing bruises along his jaw and base of his throat. The combination of the two new feelings was enough to push him over the edge again, as he let out little moans and whimpers, his legs shaking slightly. Y/N, knowing her boy as well as she did, knew that that was all he could handle for now and turned the toy off. And now, she loosely combed through his luscious locks. Whispering little praises to him, "Did so well for me, darling. So proud of my boy. I'm going to untie you now, ok?"

Y/N's eyebrows furrowed in worry at all the red burn-like marks that were left on his skin where the rope had been. On instinct, she grabbed a bottle of lotion and massaged it into his skin gently to help circulation, "Are you alright, baby?"

"Yes, mommy. Feels good.", he tacked the last part on much quieter.

"Such a dirty boy.", she cupped his face in her hands, "And in more way than one. How 'bout a shower?"

"Bath?"

"Even better.", she got up to start the tub.

"Y/N?"

"What is it?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Spence."

—

taglist: @slut-for-mothman

to be added to my taglist, fill out this form!

celebrate 200 followers with me!!🥳

173 notes · View notes