#((Sorry this took a while! Been distracted a lot lately ^^;))

[milkmily]

Hello <3

Could you pls write Shoko x (female) reader where reader is feeling a little insecure about her body and Shoko praises her while making out (and maybe fingering)

Ty

Yes I can 😈 also sorry it took me forever I've been busy these past months 😭

Shoko Ieiri x Fem! Reader | Request Open :) |

You felt horrible.

You just felt horrible about yourself.

Maybe it was the outfit you had on.

Or maybe it was because on the way to work, someone pointed out how ridiculous you looked with what you had on. It was some random people you don't even know.

Their opinion shouldn't even matter, you don't know them. Yet, it affected you so much. Honestly it was probably because you woke up in such a bad mood that their words got to you so easily. You Honestly thought your skirt looked pretty with your shirt. Your color leggings and heels matched it all. But apparently, some people don't like it. And well, their opinions mattered to you a lot.

You were soon at work, grabbing your white coat and putting it on. You were presented with Shoko who walked up to you and kissed your cheek, her gloss left on your cheek. “Morning, I got you your favorite drink.” She says as she points at the table.

You nod as you smile And start to button up the coat. She gives you a puzzled look and asks, “Why are you closing it up? Though you hated it?”

“I'm cold. The skirt isn't helping it.” A lie. Shoko hummed and said, “it isn't cold. Keep it open.” She moves her hand on top of yours to stop you. You looked at Her and sigh. She smiled as she saw your skirt and your color leggings that matched with your shirt and heels. “hey, this outfit today is cute. I like it.”

And hearing her say that made you feel good.

“Really?” You never usually say that. You either say ‘oh, I know!’ Or ‘I made this for you because I knew You'd like it’ or something else that you always say with such confidence. But today, you wanted her approval. You didn't sound as confident as you always do.

“Yeah, of course. Everything you wear is cute.” She says as she moves her hands to your hips. “why?” she asks. “What's the matter?” her tired voice asks. And you told her. You told her how in the morning you woke up late, that the hot water at your apartment had gone off so you showered with cold water, how you ran out of your favorite snack, how at the Cafe you go to to get your drink was closed, and that some random people made fun of your outfit. “And I know I shouldn't care! I know! But today they really made me feel, just- ugh. I feel horrible. Of me, of my clothes, everything of me.”

Shoko listened to everything you said. She sighs and holds your waist. “I'm sorry that happened today.” She says. “You want to take a hot bath at my place after work?” She asks and you nod. She smiles softly and cups your face, “and who cares about their opinions? You're Beautiful, you always will be. I love your cute clothes you always wear at work or when We go out.” She says as she gets closer to you.

“They Turn me on sometimes.” She admits and starts to kiss your neck. You softly sigh and hold on to her. “Really?” You ask. “Always.” She says.

The whole day at work Shoko was driving you crazy. Absolutely crazy. You could already feel how wet your panties were. You tried your best to heal anyone who walked in who needed a small healing. Satoru had come in to simply talk with Shoko about some random thing you can't even remember because all you thought about was her. How her lips would feel in that sweet spot you liked to be kissed on your neck. Her sweet words hit your ear as she squeezed and played with your nipples. You groan as you look down at Your report as you try to concentrate.

“She seems really distracted. What you do to her?” Satoru asks while grinning at the long brown haired woman. Shoko shrugs. “Nothing. Said her outfit was cute today and that was all.” She says as she sucked in her lollipop. A lollipop you had given to her yesterday that she left in the pockets of her coat. He chuckles and continues to talk about how he annoyed Nanami and about his Students.

Once the final report is done, you and Shoko sigh. “Finally!” She says as she stretches. She took her coat off and hangs it. She helps you take off yours and grabs her purse. She hands you yours and says, “I need to stop buying at the store. Is that okay?” She asks. You nod as you walked out of the infirmary room.

Shoko ended up buying one of your favorite wine brands and some snacks. once at her apartment, she had told you to go and grab the clothes you wanted as she prepared the bath. You were nervous. It isn't as if it's the first time you two have sex. You two have had it many times, even at work. On your knees, your pretty heels hitting the floor as you sucked on Shoko's clit. God, she was so stressed that day, you just wanted her to feel good. your hands on her thighs As she moans and rides your face as she came.

You grab the towel and sigh as you go into the bathroom and sit down on the stool. You washed your body and stood up to see Shoko already in the bathtub. She smiles and you dip your feet in and sit down. Shoko's eyes never leave you or your body. She smiles and wraps her arms around you as you sit down between her legs and lay your back on her chest. She breathes you in and says, “you smell nice.”

The warm water made you feel relaxed. You Honestly forgot what those people even said about you. Who gives a shit about them anyways. As you relax, Shoko's hands go under your arms and gently cup your breasts. She squeezes them as she kisses your back. “You're beautiful, you know that?” She says as she planted another kiss. “You are so beautiful.” She whispers and gently tugs your nipples. You softly moan and move your head to the side, wanting her to kiss your neck. She smiled and kissed it.

“You know.” She says in-between kisses. “You really did look cute in that short skirt and those cute colored leggings.” You shiver and whine as she slowly moves one hand down as fge other cupped your breast. “You are always somehow cute with everything you wear.” her fingers spread your lips open as she teased your clit. You whine and gasp. “I sometimes feel like you only really wear those skirts with me and with me only.” She closes your pussy lips again and squeezes them, causing you to jump.

“You were wet for me, huh?” She grins. “I saw it when you went down to pick up that pen you ‘accidently’ dropped. I saw that wet spot.” She says as her fi gets open your lips again and start to rub your clit, causing you to jump. “God, you're so hot.” She says as she bites down on your shoulder. You moan and move your his, the water slashing, some of it landing on the floor. She couldn't help But whimpers at just hearing you.

You were just so beautiful. She kisses your neck and sucked as her fingers mkve faster, causing you to hold tightly to the tub. She smiles and says, “Baby, can you have your pretty ass up?” She says. Fuck, the praises. You do as so, your ass facing her as she stood up. She smiles as she saw how wet your pussy was. She licks her fingers and rubs your wet silky folds up and down. “You are so gorgeous. You know That?” She says.

“Your pussy is so pretty too. You're all wet because of me…hmmmm.” She smiled as she kissed your ass and pushed a finger in you. You moan and turn to look up at her. her breast wet, nipples perked up. You wanted to suck and bite on them just how she likes them. You moan as you feel her finger curl up. She smiles and pulls her finger out, tasting it. “Hmm, you taste so good.” She says as she gets on one knee and kisses your ass again. She goes lower and lower to your thighs.

You shiver and moan at her kisses. She was so close to your poor Aching clit. You move your ass closer to her face and she chuckles. “Eger?” She says and licks a long string of your pussy. She moans at the taste and closes her eyes as she goes to your clit and licks it. You felt goosebumps all over your body. You close your eyes as you press yourself more on to her mouth. She moans, her moans being muffled up by your pussy. She spreads your pussy lips up as she licks to taste you. She grins as she feels your legs shake.

Shoko moves two of her fingers to your wet entrance that aches for her fingers. You moan as you feel her fingers slowly push in and out of you. And then a sharp pain is on your ass. She slapped your ass. Fuck, it felt so good. She holds your ass tight and slaps it again as she sucks your clit. She loved hearing your poor moans. Her fingers start to move fast as she thrusted them in and out of your dripping cut, your cream covering her fingers. “S-Shoko! Wait- oh my god!” You moaned as you tried to push her but she kept going. You feel like you are going to sleep the Moment you cum on her fingers and tongue. She giggles as she keeps eating you.

“Shit, You are so hot right now.” She says as she moves a hand to rub her clit. She moans as she sees how your poor legs struggled to stay up, her fingers pumping in and out of your poor wet cunt. She grins as she goes faster and you scream, cuming on her fingers. She chuckles as she sees how you squirt on her fingers. She hums and licks your cunt one last time, tasting you.

You were whining as you try to catch your breath, holding on To the tile wall. She smiled and smacked your ass, making you yelp. “You did good, babe.” She says and kisses your shoulder. “Let's get out so we can drink that wine.” She says as she give you a towel.

You two did drink the wine on the living room sofa but you couldn't Help but return the favor by eating her pussy. Her cunt dripped in your mouth as she sipped her wine and moaned. Her fingers running through your hair. You moan and look up at her. Her beautiful brown eyes looking right back at your eyes. She bites her lip and throws her head back as you suck on her clit. “Fuck, you look so beautiful.” She praises as she opens her eyes to look at you. “Eating me like this- ah fuck.” She moans and smiles. “You are always so beautiful. All mine. Fuck, you're all mine….” She moans and closes her eyes. You couldn't help but moan at her praises. You push your fingers in her as you suck and Lick her clit.

God, you felt so good. Your back arching more as she praised you. She smiles at the arch and gasps as your fingers cruel up. She nods and praises you even more. “right there baby, God, yes- you are so good- ah ah fuck yes I'm going to cum soon baby.” You loved how she talks so much during sex. Her praises and everything about her drive you crazy. She drops the wine glass on the floor, not caring if the carpet is now stained red. She tugs your hair as her feet curl. She whimpers and moans as she cupped her breast. She was so close.

Her moans soon turn into screams as she cums on your fingers. You pulled your fingers out as you licked and licked. She is so sensitive. She jumped at every lip. You smile at her as you lick your fingers clean. She smiles at you, panting. She moves her hair away from her face and says, “you did good.” And pulls you into a kiss.

Honestly, you forgot why you even felt horrible. All you thought of was how Shoko and you both looked and were.

[sicknessbysalem]

ooh I’ve been a sucker for sick before/during a performance lately and i deeply adore your fics!! so maybe any of the members of lex and soren’s band trying to make it through a performance or a recording session while feeling absolutely awful? your choice of who!

absolutely! i added that into this WIP i had of a very sick soren.

if you have any more requests, comments, concerns, etc., send them my way!

tw for emeto (lots of emeto), fevers, sick on tour.

The world outside was a blur of lights and movement, the faint hum of the city filtering through the window of their tour bus as they rolled into the next stop.

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of stale coffee and equipment, a familiar atmosphere that Lex had long since come to associate with life on the road.

But tonight, the usual energy was subdued, the dim lights casting long shadows across the cramped space, adding to the quiet heaviness that hung in the air.

Soren lay curled on the narrow bunk, his back pressed against the wall, his eyes squeezed shut, every shallow breath a careful, measured effort to keep the nausea at bay.

He’d been fighting it for hours now, a low, insistent ache that had started as a vague discomfort, a faint queasiness he’d hoped might pass with a little sleep. But as the hours dragged on, the nausea had settled in deeper, twisting in his stomach like a clenched fist, leaving him feeling weak, hollow.

Lex sat beside him, his hand resting lightly on Soren’s shoulder, his fingers tracing gentle, absent-minded circles against the fabric of his shirt.

The touch was grounding, a steady presence that kept Soren anchored, even as the sickness gnawed at him, a relentless pressure that refused to ease.

Lex’s long, dark hair fell over his shoulder in soft waves, a few loose strands brushing against Soren’s arm as he leaned in, his gaze fixed on Soren with a quiet, unspoken concern that cut through the haze of discomfort, a reminder that he wasn’t alone.

“Do you want some water?” Lex’s voice was soft, a quiet suggestion that lingered in the air, a gentle nudge that didn’t press, didn’t demand, just offered a small, fragile comfort.

Soren shook his head, the movement slow, deliberate, as though even the slightest shift might set off the nausea again. His hand drifted to his stomach, his fingers pressing lightly against the ache, a small, useless gesture that did nothing to ease the discomfort but brought him some measure of focus, a distraction from the relentless churn in his gut. He could feel the cool sweat on his forehead, a faint, clammy dampness that left him feeling feverish, weak, a quiet, unyielding reminder of the sickness that had settled in deep, refusing to let go.

Lex’s hand drifted up to Soren’s hair, his fingers brushing through the pale strands in a soft, rhythmic motion, a small, grounding gesture that seemed to ease some of the tension, the weight pressing down on him.

Soren leaned into the touch, his breathing shallow, each inhale and exhale a careful effort as he fought to keep the sickness from overtaking him, from dragging him under.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, a faint, strained apology that lingered in the air, tinged with the quiet frustration of his own body’s betrayal. He hated feeling like this—weak, dependent, a weight on Lex’s shoulders when he knew they both had enough to worry about.

Lex shook his head, his hand moving to Soren’s back, a steady, reassuring touch that eased the tightness in Soren’s chest, the quiet anxiety that had been gnawing at him since the nausea had set in. “Don’t apologize,” he replied softly, his tone warm, a quiet reminder that he was here, that he didn’t see this as a burden, that he didn’t mind the weight. “Just focus on breathing. You don’t have to push through this alone.”

Soren took a slow breath, his head dipping as he closed his eyes, willing the nausea to ease, to give him even a moment’s reprieve. But the sickness clung to him, a low, insistent ache that twisted deeper, sharper, with every passing moment.

His stomach clenched, a fresh wave of nausea rolling over him, sharp and relentless, leaving him gasping for breath, his body tensing as he tried to fight it down, to hold it back.

But the sickness refused to be ignored, clawing its way up, relentless, and he barely had time to brace himself before his body gave in, a harsh, involuntary heave that left him breathless, his hand flying to his mouth as he fought to keep the sickness from overtaking him completely.

Lex’s hand moved to his shoulder, a steady, grounding touch that kept him anchored, kept him from slipping into the discomfort entirely.

“Hey,” Lex murmured softly, his voice a quiet, steady presence that cut through the haze, grounding Soren in the warmth of his touch, the gentle reassurance that he didn’t have to carry this alone. “Just breathe—I’m right here.”

The nausea surged again, sharper this time, an insistent pressure that left him trembling, his body betraying him in ways he couldn’t control. Lex’s hand moved to the back of his neck, his fingers warm, comforting. He could feel the faint, damp chill of sweat beading along his forehead, a quiet reminder of his own weakness, the vulnerability he’d never quite learned to accept.

Lex pulled him forward a bit, getting Soren to lean over the edge of the bunk, where despite Soren’s will, his lunch made an unappetizing reappearance into the plastic bin Ksenia pushed in before she took her residence in the living area of the bus. Ksenia was never one for caretaking, so she left ample space for Lex to do his thing.

When the worst of it passed, Soren slumped back, his breathing shallow, uneven as he tried to steady himself, to catch his breath. He closed his eyes, his hand pressed against his stomach as he fought to keep the nausea from rising again, the sickness a low, relentless ache that left him feeling hollow, weak.

Lex’s hand drifted to his shoulder, his fingers brushing through Soren’s hair in a small, soothing gesture, a quiet, grounding presence that kept him steady, a reminder that he didn’t have to bear this alone.

“You’re okay,” Lex murmured, his voice soft, a gentle reassurance that lingered in the air, a warmth that seemed to cut through the discomfort, to settle over Soren like a blanket, easing the tension, the weight that had been pressing down on him.

Soren managed a faint nod, though he could feel the nausea lingering, a quiet, insistent ache that refused to ease, a reminder of his own body’s betrayal. He could feel the exhaustion settling into his bones, a heaviness that left him feeling drained, hollow, and he closed his eyes, willing himself to hold it together, to keep the sickness from overtaking him completely.

“Think you can rest a little?” Lex asked, his hand resting lightly on Soren’s shoulder, a quiet question that lingered in the air, a reminder that he didn’t have to push through this, that he didn’t have to hold it all alone.

Soren nodded as he let out a slow, careful breath, his hand resting on Lex’s knee, a small, grounding touch that kept him steady, kept him anchored in the warmth of Lex��s presence.

He knew, on some level that he had someone beside him, someone who saw him, who understood. But the thought of leaning on Lex, of letting himself be vulnerable, left him feeling exposed, fragile, a quiet discomfort that he couldn’t quite shake.

“I’ll be okay,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, a faint, unsteady assurance that lingered in the air, a quiet hope that he could hold it together, that he could push through, if only for a little longer.

-

The hours wore on, and the low ache in Soren’s stomach refused to ease, twisting and tightening until it felt as though every breath, every small movement, was a battle against the nausea that seemed to coil deeper, sharper with each passing moment.

He lay there, curled in on himself, his forehead pressed against the cool wall of the bunk, his breaths shallow, careful, as though even the slightest shift might tip him over the edge.

Lex hadn’t moved from his side, his hand a steady, comforting presence on Soren’s back, tracing gentle circles, the rhythm grounding, familiar. He could feel Lex’s gaze on him, warm and concerned, a quiet, unspoken question that lingered in the air, a reminder that he didn’t have to bear this alone, that he could lean into the comfort, the support Lex offered so freely.

“You’re really not looking great,” Lex murmured softly, his voice barely more than a whisper, a gentle observation laced with concern. “I’ve got some ginger tea I could make, or… I have something stronger if you want.”

Soren managed a faint shake of his head, the movement slow, hesitant, as though he were trying to push past the discomfort, to hold onto the fragile control he’d managed to scrape together.

The thought of taking anything felt distant, unreal, his focus turned inward, fixed on the relentless ache, the quiet, insistent nausea that gnawed at him, leaving him feeling hollow, weak. Soren wasn’t even sure if he could hold it down, tea or otherwise. So, why bother?

But Lex didn’t push, just shifted slightly, his hand moving to rest on the back of Soren’s neck, his fingers warm, steady, a small, grounding touch that seemed to ease some of the tension coiling in Soren’s chest, a warmth that cut through the sickness, the discomfort, if only by a fraction.

Soren leaned into the touch, letting out a slow, unsteady breath, his body slumping, the exhaustion settling over him like a weight, leaving him feeling drained, empty.

The nausea crested, sharp and insistent, a fresh wave that twisted in his stomach, leaving him breathless, his hand gripping the edge of the bunk as he fought to keep the sickness at bay, to push it down, to hold it back.

But his body betrayed him, the nausea rising with a force that left him gasping, his throat tight, his stomach clenching painfully as he felt the sickness clawing its way up, relentless, unyielding.

Lex was there in an instant, his hand moving to Soren’s shoulder, a steadying touch that kept him grounded, that kept him from slipping into the discomfort entirely.

“Okay, okay my love, I’ve got you,” Lex murmured softly, his voice a quiet, steady reassurance that cut through the haze, grounding Soren in the warmth, the familiarity of his presence. “Just breathe—it’s alright.”

But the nausea refused to let go, clawing its way up with a force that left him trembling, his body giving in to the sickness in harsh, involuntary waves. He barely had time to lean over the trash can before his body gave in completely, each heave leaving him breathless.

His throat burned, the acidic taste sharp and bitter, a reminder of his own body’s betrayal, the vulnerability he could never quite accept.

Lex’s hand moved to the back of his neck, his fingers gentle, soothing, a small, familiar touch that kept him steady.

“It’s okay,” Lex murmured, his voice a quiet, constant presence, a warmth that settled over Soren like a blanket, easing the weight, the discomfort that had been pressing down on him.

The sickness dragged on, each wave sharp, relentless, leaving Soren weak, breathless, his hand gripping the edge of the trash can as he fought to hold himself together, to keep the nausea from overtaking him completely.

He could feel the cold sweat on his forehead, a faint, clammy dampness that left him shivering, his skin pale, drawn, a reminder of his own weakness, the quiet shame that lingered beneath the discomfort.

When the worst of it passed, he slumped back, his body sagging against the bunk, his breathing shallow, uneven, each inhale a careful, measured effort to keep the sickness from rising again. He could feel the exhaustion settling into his bones, a heaviness that left him feeling hollow, weak, and he closed his eyes, willing the nausea to ease, to give him even a moment’s reprieve.

Lex reached into his bag, pulling out a small orange bottle. Soren heard the familiar rattle of pills in plastic. It was only then he realized he probably threw up the antipsychotics and did not, in fact, want to face trying again even if he feared what might happen without them.

“Don’t worry, it’s not those meds,” Lex said, Soren wondered if Lex could read his mind, “I’ve got some anti-nausea meds. They work wonders, really. It’s what made me stop puking during our New York stops.”

Soren hesitated, even as the nausea twisted, sharper now, a relentless ache that refused to let go. But Lex’s gaze was steady, warm with an unspoken encouragement that settled over him.

And, Soren thought, Lex had been vomiting for days, unrelated to some sort of virus, during their four stops in New York. And if what Lex said was true, that he took it then, it really did work wonders.

With a slow, shaky breath, Soren gave a faint nod, his hand drifting to Lex’s, a small, reluctant acceptance of the care that Lex offered so freely.

Lex offered a faint, reassuring smile, his fingers brushing against Soren’s as he opened the bottle.

Lex handed him a pill and a small glass of water, his touch steady, gentle, a quiet reassurance that seemed to ease some of the tension coiling in Soren’s chest, a warmth that cut through the sickness, the discomfort, if only by a fraction.

“This should help,” he murmured softly, his voice a quiet, steady encouragement that kept Soren grounded, even when everything felt so miserable.

Soren took the pill, the cool water soothing against his throat, a small comfort that settled over him like a blanket, easing the sharp, relentless ache that had been gnawing at him.

And as he leaned back, he let himself breathe, let himself sink into the warmth, the comfort that Lex offered, a small, fragile acceptance that settled over him, a reminder that he didn’t have to bear this alone.

Lex stayed beside him, his hand resting on Soren’s shoulder, Soren let himself lean into the comfort.

The nausea lingered, a low, insistent ache that refused to ease entirely, but with Lex beside him, with the gentle, constant touch of his hand, Soren felt a small, precious peace, a comfort that cut through the discomfort, that reminded him he wasn’t alone.

And as he closed his eyes, letting himself sink into the warmth, the familiarity of their connection, he felt the quiet, grounding reassurance that he didn’t have to carry this alone, that he didn’t have to face it all on his own.

-

Morning brought a tentative hope that the worst of the sickness had passed. Soren lay on the narrow bunk, his eyes half-closed as he took careful breaths, feeling the familiar ache in his stomach but noticing, with some relief, that it was duller than the night before.

The nausea lingered, a quiet, uncomfortable reminder of his body’s rebellion, but it was manageable, a low, insistent ache that didn’t overwhelm him, that allowed him a small, cautious optimism for the day ahead.

Lex sat beside him, a steaming cup of herbal tea cradled in his hands, the scent of ginger and chamomile filling the air, soothing in a way that seemed to settle Soren’s nerves, to ease some of the residual discomfort.

Lex’s gaze was warm, soft, a quiet, unspoken concern lingering in his eyes, but he offered a faint, reassuring smile as he handed the cup to Soren, his hand lingering on Soren’s shoulder, a gentle, grounding touch that settled over him like a blanket.

“Think you’re up for the interview?” Lex asked, his voice soft, careful, a quiet question that didn’t press, that allowed Soren the space to answer honestly.

Soren took a slow sip of the tea, feeling the warmth spread through him, a small comfort that eased the tension coiling in his chest.

“I think so,” he replied, his voice steady, though he could feel the faint edge of uncertainty lingering beneath the words. “I’m… better than last night, at least,” he added.

Lex nodded, his hand moving to rest on Soren’s back, a gentle, reassuring presence that kept him grounded, that reminded him he didn’t have to carry this alone.

“If you’re feeling up to it, we’ll take it slow,” he murmured, his voice warm, a quiet, unspoken encouragement that settled over Soren like a blanket.

With Lex’s support, Soren found the strength to get ready, moving through the familiar motions of his morning routine, each step careful, measured, as though he were testing the limits of his own endurance.

The nausea lingered, a faint, uncomfortable ache that settled low in his stomach, but he pushed it down, held onto the hope that he could manage, that he could push through the day without letting it affect their plans.

By the time they reached the interview venue, the ache in his stomach had dulled further, a faint, manageable discomfort that left him feeling cautiously optimistic. He took a slow breath as they entered the studio, the familiar hum of pre-interview preparations settling over him, grounding him in the routines he knew so well.

Lex stayed close, his hand resting lightly on Soren’s arm, a quiet, steady presence that kept him anchored, a reminder that he wasn’t alone, even as the faint edge of discomfort lingered, a quiet, insistent ache that refused to let go entirely.

The interviewer greeted them with a warm smile, her energy bright and welcoming as she introduced herself, diving into the questions with an ease that put Soren at ease, that allowed him to settle into the familiar rhythm of answering, responding, moving through the motions with a practiced calm.

He could feel the discomfort lurking beneath the surface, a faint, nagging reminder of the night before, but he managed to push it down, to keep his focus on the conversation, on the quiet, grounding presence of Lex beside him.

As the interview wrapped up, Lex’s hand moved to Soren’s back, a gentle, comforting touch that settled over him like a blanket, a small, unspoken reassurance that he’d made it through, that he’d managed to hold it together, if only for a little while.

Soren let out a slow, careful breath, feeling a faint, tentative relief settle over him, a quiet hope that he could get through the rest of the day, that he could push through the lingering discomfort, the quiet, insistent ache that had been gnawing at him.

But as the day wore on, the nausea began to creep back, a low, relentless ache that settled in his stomach, twisting with each step, each small movement.

By the time they reached the venue for the night’s show, Soren could feel the discomfort intensifying, a sharp, insistent pressure that pressed against his ribs, his chest, leaving him feeling weak, unsteady.

He took careful, shallow breaths, each inhale a measured effort to keep the sickness at bay, to hold onto the fragile control he’d managed to scrape together.

Lex noticed almost immediately, his gaze softening as he took in the tension in Soren’s posture, the way he was gripping his stomach, his jaw clenched against the discomfort.

Without a word, Lex moved closer, his hand resting lightly on Soren’s back, his fingers tracing gentle, soothing circles, a quiet, grounding presence that seemed to ease some of the tension, the weight pressing down on him.

“Hey,” Lex murmured softly, his voice a gentle, steady reassurance that cut through the haze, grounding Soren in the warmth, the familiarity of his presence. “You sure you’re okay for this?”

Soren managed a faint nod, though he could feel the nausea building, sharper now, a quiet, insistent ache that settled low in his stomach, twisting with each breath, each careful movement.

“Yeah… just… need a minute,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, a faint, unsteady assurance that lingered in the air, a quiet hope that he could push through, that he could hold it together, if only for a little while longer.

But even as he spoke, he could feel his control slipping, the nausea rising with a force that left him breathless, his body betraying him in ways he couldn’t ignore.

He pressed his hand tightly against his stomach, his fingers digging into his side as he fought to keep the sickness from overtaking him, to hold it back, but the ache only grew sharper, more insistent, a weight that settled heavily, unyielding.

Lex’s hand drifted to Soren’s shoulder, a small, grounding touch that kept him anchored, that kept him from slipping into the discomfort entirely.

“If you need to sit this one out…” Lex’s voice was soft, careful, a gentle suggestion that lingered in the air, a reminder that he didn’t have to push through this, that he didn’t have to hold it all alone.

Soren managed a faint, weak smile, though he could feel the nausea clawing its way up, sharper now, a quiet, relentless pressure that left him trembling, his hand gripping the edge of the nearby chair as he fought to steady himself, to keep the sickness from dragging him under.

“I can handle it,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, a faint, desperate assurance that lingered in the air, a quiet hope that he could hold it together, that he could push through the discomfort.

But the nausea surged again, sharper this time, a relentless ache that left him gasping, his body giving in to the sickness with a force that left him breathless, weak.

He barely had time to lean over the trash can Lex had set beside him before his body gave in, a harsh, involuntary heave that left him shaking, his hand gripping the edge of the can as he fought to hold himself together, to keep the sickness from overtaking him completely.

Lex was beside him in an instant, his hand moving to the back of Soren’s neck, his fingers warm, comforting, a small, familiar presence that kept him steady, that kept him from slipping into the discomfort entirely.

“I’ve got you,” Lex murmured softly, his voice a quiet, steady reassurance that settled over Soren like a blanket, a reminder that he wasn’t alone, that he didn’t have to carry this on his own.

The sickness dragged on, each wave sharp, unrelenting, leaving Soren weak, breathless, his body betraying him in ways he couldn’t control. He could feel the cold sweat on his forehead, a faint, clammy dampness that left him shivering, his skin pale, a reminder of his own vulnerability, the quiet shame that lingered beneath the discomfort.

When the worst of it passed, he slumped back, his head hanging, his hand still pressed to his stomach as he fought to catch his breath, the nausea lingering like a dull ache, a reminder of his own body’s rebellion. He felt weak, hollow, each breath a careful, measured effort, and he closed his eyes, willing himself to hold it together, to keep the sickness from overtaking him completely.

Lex’s hand drifted to his shoulder, his fingers gentle, soothing, a quiet, steadying presence that kept Soren grounded, that reminded him he wasn’t alone.

“Oh, babe, you don’t look good at all,” Lex said softly.

“I don’t feel good, at all,” Soren said, sighing softly, “But I’ll… I’ll be alright.”

“Yeah, because the reamins everything you’ve eaten in the past three days looking like some fucked up recipe for disastwr in the trash is a very clear indication you’re totally fine.” Lex said sarcastically, chuckling softly.

“If you ever describe it that way again, next round goes on you,” Soren mumbled, leaning forward to rest his head on the dressing room vanity.

Lex stayed beside him, his hand resting on Soren’s back, a quiet, grounding presence that kept him steady.

And in that small, quiet space, Soren let himself lean into the comfort, the warmth, a fragile, tentative acceptance that he didn’t have to face this alone.

As showtime drew near, Soren could feel the discomfort creeping back, sharper and more insistent with each passing moment. The cautious optimism he’d felt that morning, the faint hope that maybe he was on the mend, had faded, replaced by a familiar ache that settled low in his stomach, a relentless, twisting nausea that left him feeling hollow, unsteady.

He took careful breaths, willing the sickness to ease, to give him enough strength to get through the night, but the nausea only grew, sharper now, a quiet, insistent reminder that his body was protesting in ways he couldn’t ignore.

Lex stood beside him, his hand resting lightly on Soren’s shoulder, his fingers tracing small, soothing circles against the fabric of his shirt. It was a quiet, grounding gesture, a familiar warmth that cut through the haze of discomfort, if only by a fraction.

Lex’s gaze lingered on him, soft, concerned, a quiet, unspoken question lingering in his eyes, but he didn’t press, didn’t demand an answer, just stayed close, his presence a steadying comfort that kept Soren grounded.

“You sure you’re up for this?” Lex asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, a gentle question that lingered in the air, a reminder that he didn’t have to push through this alone, that he didn’t have to carry the weight on his own.

Soren managed a faint, strained smile, his head dipping slightly as he nodded, his voice steady, though he could feel the tremor lingering beneath the words. “I’ve got this,” he replied, his tone firm, a quiet determination that belied the nausea twisting in his stomach, the sickness that clung to him, sharp and unyielding. He’d pushed through before—long nights, rougher shows, moments when he’d felt weaker, sicker than this. He could manage, he had to.

As the band took their places on stage, the roar of the crowd washed over him, a deafening wave that usually settled his nerves, that reminded him of the rhythm they’d built, the routines that held them steady. But tonight, every sound, every bright flash of the lights felt like an assault, each sensation amplified by the discomfort gnawing at him, leaving him feeling off-kilter, exposed.

Lex stayed close, his gaze flicking to Soren every now and then, a quiet, subtle check-in that kept him grounded, that reminded him he wasn’t alone. Soren’s hand drifted to his stomach, pressing lightly against the ache, a small, futile gesture that did nothing to ease the nausea but brought him some measure of focus, a distraction from the relentless churning in his gut.

He could feel the sweat breaking out along his forehead, a faint, clammy dampness that left him shivering, his skin pale, a reminder of his own body’s rebellion, the weakness he could never quite accept.

The first song began, the familiar chords reverberating through the stage, grounding him in the routine, the rhythm he knew so well. He focused on his guitar, each note a small, careful movement that kept his mind occupied, that allowed him to push the sickness down, to hold it at bay, if only for a little while.

Lex’s voice rose over the crowd, steady, powerful, a sound that seemed to cut through the haze, grounding Soren in the present, in the familiar warmth of their connection.

But as the minutes ticked by, the nausea grew sharper, more insistent, a low, relentless ache that twisted in his stomach, leaving him breathless, weak.

He took careful breaths, each inhale a measured effort to keep the sickness from overtaking him, to hold onto the fragile control he’d managed to scrape together. But the sickness refused to be ignored, clawing its way up with a force that left him gasping, his body betraying him in ways he couldn’t fight.

Soren took advantage of a small instrumental break, slipping to the side of the stage, his movements careful, deliberate, as he braced himself against the wall, his hand pressed tightly to his stomach as he fought to keep the sickness at bay.

He barely made it to a small trash can set discreetly offstage before his body gave in, each heave dragging him under, leaving him breathless, weak, his throat raw from the acid, the strain.

The sickness was relentless, each wave sharp, unyielding, leaving him trembling, his hand gripping the edge of the trash can as he fought to steady himself, to keep the nausea from overtaking him completely.

He could feel the cool sweat on his forehead, a faint, clammy dampness that left him shivering, his skin pale, a reminder of his own vulnerability, the quiet shame that lingered beneath the discomfort.

He barely had a moment to catch his breath before the next song began, the familiar chords pulling him back, forcing him to push the sickness down, to hold onto the fragile control he’d managed to scrape together.

He wiped his mouth, his hand shaking slightly as he steadied himself, forcing himself back onstage, back into the rhythm, the routine that kept him grounded, that allowed him to push through the discomfort, if only for a little while.

Lex’s gaze met his as he stepped back into place, a quiet, unspoken concern lingering in his eyes, but Soren managed a faint, reassuring smile, a quiet assurance that he could handle it, that he could push through.

He could see the worry in Lex’s expression, the way his gaze lingered on Soren, a silent question, but he didn’t press, didn’t demand an answer, just continued, his voice steady, powerful, a grounding presence that kept Soren anchored.

But as the night wore on, the nausea grew worse, sharper, a low, relentless ache that refused to let go, that twisted in his stomach with each song, each note. He could feel the exhaustion settling into his bones, a heaviness that left him feeling hollow, weak, and he took careful, shallow breaths, each inhale a measured effort to keep the sickness from overtaking him, to hold onto the fragile control he’d managed to scrape together.

Another instrumental break offered a brief respite, a small window for him to slip offstage again, to find a quiet corner where he could brace himself, his hand pressed to his stomach as he fought to keep the sickness down, to hold it back.

But his body gave in, each heave dragging him under, leaving him breathless, weak, the taste of acid sharp and bitter on his tongue, a reminder of his own body’s betrayal, the vulnerability he could never quite accept.

He leaned heavily against the wall, his breathing shallow, uneven, each inhale a careful, measured effort as he fought to keep the nausea from rising again, the sickness a low, relentless ache that left him feeling hollow, weak.

He knew he couldn’t keep this up, couldn’t push through the night without consequence, but the thought of stepping down, of leaving Lex to handle it alone, left him feeling exposed, vulnerable, a quiet discomfort he couldn’t quite shake.

As he made his way back onstage, he could feel Lex’s gaze on him, a quiet, gentle concern lingering in his eyes, but Soren forced a faint, reassuring smile, a small, fragile assurance that he could handle it, that he could push through.

Lex’s hand brushed against his arm, a small, grounding touch that kept him steady, a reminder that he didn’t have to carry the weight alone, that he didn’t have to hold it all on his own.

But as the night drew to a close, the sickness refused to ease, each wave sharper, more insistent, a reminder that his body was reaching its limit, that he couldn’t push through without consequence.

By the final song, Soren could barely hold it together, his body trembling, weak, the nausea a relentless ache that left him feeling hollow, breathless, each breath a careful, measured effort.

Lex glanced over, his gaze soft, a quiet, unspoken concern lingering in his eyes, but Soren managed a faint nod, a small, fragile assurance that he could handle it, that he could push through, if only for a little longer.

And as the last notes faded, as the lights dimmed, he felt a small, tentative relief settle over him, in the form of Lex’s arms wrapped around him.

-

The afternoon sun poured through the bus windows, casting a warm, gentle light over everything, a contrast to the relentless exhaustion that had plagued Soren over the past day.

He sat at the small table, a steaming cup of tea cradled in his hands, the faint scent of peppermint and ginger filling the air, soothing in a way that reminded him of Lex’s own quiet attentiveness, the careful way Lex had stayed beside him through the worst of it, grounding him, comforting him.

The sickness had lingered through the early morning, each hour a quiet battle against his own body, but by now, the nausea had faded to a dull, manageable ache, a faint discomfort that was nothing compared to the sharp, relentless sickness that had gripped him the day before.

He took a slow sip of the tea, the warmth spreading through him, easing the last remnants of tension that clung to his body, a reminder of the vulnerability he could never quite shake.

Lex sat across from him, his long, dark hair falling in loose waves over his shoulders, his gaze soft, warm, a quiet, unspoken concern lingering in his expression.

He’d been watching Soren with a gentle, attentive gaze, his gaze lifting every so often from his phone or his notebook.

“Feeling better?” Lex asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, a gentle question that lingered in the air, a reminder that he didn’t have to push himself, that he could take things slow, that he could let himself recover at his own pace.

Soren nodded, managing a faint, reassuring smile as he set the tea down, his hands resting on the table as he leaned back, letting out a slow, careful breath.

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice steady, though there was a faint edge of exhaustion lingering in his tone. “Finally feels like it’s passed… thanks to you,” he added, a small, grateful smile flickering at the corners of his mouth, a quiet acknowledgment of the care Lex had offered so freely, so gently.

Lex waved off the thanks with a soft smile, but his gaze lingered, a subtle warmth in his eyes that conveyed more than words ever could—a quiet understanding, a comfort that had always been there between them, a connection that needed no explanation.

He leaned forward, his hand reaching across the table to rest lightly on Soren’s, a small, grounding touch that kept them both anchored, a reminder that they didn’t have to face anything alone, that they had each other, even in the quiet, vulnerable moments.

As they sat there, the silence stretching between them, Soren’s gaze drifted to Lex’s face, noticing the faint shadows under his eyes, the slight tension in his expression, a subtle discomfort that hadn’t been there before.

It was small, barely noticeable, but Soren had known Lex long enough to recognize the subtle shifts, the quiet signs that hinted at something deeper, something Lex wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

Lex cleared his throat softly, a faint, almost absent-minded sound that Soren had come to associate with Lex’s own discomfort, a small, unconscious habit that often preceded the early signs of sickness. It was subtle, a quiet tic that most people wouldn’t notice, but to Soren, it was a small, telling detail, a hint that Lex might be feeling the first stirrings of whatever illness had overtaken Soren. Lex only ever cleared his throat this much when he was feeling like he was about to vomit, as if doing so would dislodge the sickness from his throat and go back down, a habit picked up to avoid throwing up, Lex always hated getting sick like that.

“You alright?” Soren asked, his tone light, casual, though there was a faint, gentle concern lingering beneath the question, a quiet, unspoken hope that Lex might be willing to acknowledge the discomfort, to let himself lean into the support that Soren was ready to offer.

Lex glanced up, his gaze meeting Soren’s, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something unspoken in his expression, a small, vulnerable look that settled over him, before he brushed it off with a faint smile, a small, self-assured nod. “Yeah… just tired,” he replied, his tone calm, steady, though there was a faint edge of something else lingering beneath the words, a quiet discomfort that hadn’t quite settled.

He cleared his throat again, a small, almost reflexive gesture, his gaze dropping to the tea in his hands as he took a slow sip, his movements careful, deliberate, as though he were testing the limits of his own endurance. Soren’s gaze lingered, a quiet, gentle concern settling over him as he watched Lex, taking in the small, subtle shifts in his posture, the faint way his hand trembled as he set the cup down, the way his gaze seemed to drift, unfocused, a quiet discomfort lingering in the background.

“You’re sure?” Soren pressed, his voice soft, a gentle, unspoken question lingering in the air, a quiet hope that Lex might let himself lean into the comfort, the support that Soren was ready to offer, a small, tentative invitation to share the weight, to let Soren take care of him for once.

Lex’s smile was faint, a small, grateful expression that flickered at the corners of his mouth, a quiet acknowledgment of Soren’s concern, though he didn’t answer, didn’t give any indication of the discomfort that lingered beneath the surface. Instead, he reached across the table, his hand resting lightly on Soren’s, a small, grounding touch that kept them both anchored, a reminder that they didn’t have to face anything alone, that they had each other, even in the quiet, vulnerable moments.

As they sat there, the quiet stretching between them, Soren could feel the faint, subtle tension in Lex’s touch, the quiet discomfort that lingered in the background, a small, unspoken reminder that there was something more beneath the surface, a hint of vulnerability that Lex wasn’t ready to acknowledge. But Soren didn’t press, didn’t demand an answer, just held Lex’s hand, a quiet, grounding presence that kept them both steady, a reminder that they didn’t have to face anything alone.

And as the afternoon sunlight filled the space, casting a warm, gentle glow over them, Soren felt a small, quiet understanding settle over him, a reminder of the quiet strength, the connection they shared, a bond that needed no words, no grand gestures, just a hand on a shoulder, a quiet, steady comfort that held them both, even in the vulnerable moments, even in the quiet, unspoken understanding that lingered between them.

As the silence stretched on, Soren couldn’t shake the faint, lingering feeling that hinted at the possibility of Lex coming down with the very same illness he’d struggled through.

It was subtle, a small, almost imperceptible shift in the air, a quiet tension that lingered in the background, but Soren knew, in that small, fragile moment, that he would be there, that he would offer the same care, the same quiet support that Lex had given him.

Soren didn’t miss the way Lex set down his mug of tea like it had personally wronged him, or that the mere thought of drinking more would make his body stage an all out rejection. But, he didn’t say anything about it, Soren didn’t ask.

Soren moved to sit next to Lex, closing the space between them, wrapping an arm around Lex’s shoulders as if that would protect Lex from whatever knocked Soren so badly.

“Come here,” Soren said, rubbing Lex’s shoulder, “I’ve got you.”

[janiehellion]

Healing Touch

ONESHOT

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: When Daryl Dixon is injured and stuck in bed, he’s not exactly thrilled about the idea of being pampered by the group. But you? You’re more than ready to take care of him—and show him just what it means to be a good boy. Think Daryl Dixon’s all rough and tough? Think again...

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: DARYL DIXON X READER

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: SMUT / HANDJOB / TEASING / EDGING / ORGASM DENIAL

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4.033

ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ: S2E05—ᴄʜᴜᴘᴀᴄᴀʙʀᴀ & S2E06—ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛꜱ

MASTERLIST & REQUEST GUIDELINES

You wiped the sweat from your forehead, the Georgia sun burning down on you as you walked over to Maggie and Glenn outside of the house on Hershel's farm.

Every so often, you'd look towards the cars where a few others in the group were working, trying to make the most of the now limited supplies you all had left at the moment.

"I got a lot of corn here," Maggie said, holding up a can. "Maybe we can make some soup tonight. What do you think?"

Glenn laughed, "Soup sounds fine, I think. As long as we don’t have to eat beans again. I think I’m starting to sprout beans myself."

"Hey Maggie," you shouted over to her. "How’s everything going so far? You two need any help?"

Maggie gave you a small, but rather distracted, smile. "It’s been a quiet run, so we’re okay. We just came back a few minutes ago with some new supplies."

You nodded. "That's good. Means we won't starve anytime soon. Hey, listen, I heard Daryl’s still inside the house. Do you know how he is feeling? I really hope he is feeling better. Everything that has happened, I just... I don't know. I still can't wrap my head around it."

"Well, dad took care of him, just like he did with Carl, so I wouldn't worry too much about his condition. And if it would've worsened, dad would've told Rick already, that's for sure. But what has happened to him out there, and then the bullet? I don't know him well enough, but I think that he’s too stubborn to admit he even needed help in the first place. And that ear necklace? I'm sorry, but that was beyond creepy."

You remembered… Daryl has been out there, trying to find Sophia again. Of course, it all had to go sideways. You didn't know the details exactly, but you remembered how he had dragged himself back to the farm, looking like he’d been through hell and back. Covered in dirt and blood, and barely conscious.

Then, just when things couldn’t get any worse, Andrea took a shot at him from the roof of the RV. She’d been told to hold off by Rick, Shane, and Dale, but she fired anyway, hitting Daryl in the head, with the bullet grazing his temple.

"I’ll check on him," you now said, putting the supplies aside again. "You're right, he's too stubborn to admit it, but he needs someone to make sure he’s not pushing himself too hard. And if he could, he'd already be out there again."

As you walked towards the farmhouse, you passed by Rick, who was busy organizing and looking through different maps. He looked up at you, giving you a nod. "Hey," he said, his voice sounding rather exhausted. "Are you going to check on Daryl? Or are you going to help Beth and Lori in the kitchen?"

You nodded. "Yeah. I’m going to make sure he’s okay. Daryl's been through hell while trying to find Sophia."

"Good idea. He’s definitely been through a lot, that's true. I mean, we all have. But just… be careful with him. You know how Daryl is."

You laughed, shaking your head. "I know, Rick. That’s why I’m going to make sure he stays put and tied to the bed. Don't worry."

As you walked into the farmhouse, you could hear a voice coming from the kitchen, where Lori was preparing a meal with Beth together for Daryl and the rest of the group.

"Hello," Lori said and looked at you. "Are you going to see Daryl, or do you want to help us? Rick has been annoying me with me apparently needing help, even though Beth is helping me already."

You nodded, giving her a smile back. "Don't worry, Lori. I want to make sure Daryl's alright, you know, after everything that has happened lately."

She gave you a quick and thankful thumbs up before you continued heading to the room in which Daryl was in, but paused for a moment in front of the door, taking a deep breath. The thought of Daryl lying there, probably still hurt and so vulnerable, made your heart ache. He’d always been so strong, but seeing him in such a state was hard to imagine. And just as you were about to open the door, you heard a voice coming from the inside of the room.

You stopped, listening for a moment before pushing open the door to find Hershel standing by Daryl’s bedside.

"Evening, Hershel," you said as you entered the room, trying to keep your tone neutral despite the knot of nervousness in your stomach.

Hershel looked up, smiling at the sight of you. "Hey there, good to see you. I could use an extra pair of hands."

You moved closer to the bed, where Daryl lay, and Hershel continued, "Daryl’s been in and out of consciousness yesterday most of the time, but I’m hopeful he’ll recover fast if he gets the rest he needs. And if you could help changing the rest of the bandages right now, that would be great."

You nodded, taking a closer look at Daryl. "Sure, I’ll do whatever I can to help. I know he can be stubborn, but he needs to take it easy eventually."

"That’s the spirit. I’ve done what I can for now. He’ll need the rest."

You were still looking at Daryl as Hershel took a few steps back, who now moved slightly at the sound of your voice. His eyes opened just a little bit, and he looked at you with confusion.

"Hey, tough guy," you said. "How are you holding up so far?"

"Just peachy, as always," he answered rather annoyed.

You couldn’t help but smile at his answer. He certainly sounded like the Daryl Dixon that you all knew so far. "Well, I’m here now, so you’d better let me take care of you."

Hershel gave you another nod before finally walking out of the room. "Good, I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, like more bandages, don’t hesitate to ask. We still got enough medical supplies left if needed."

"Thanks, Hershel," you replied, watching as he left the room.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the task ahead.

"What’re ya even doin’ here?" Daryl suddenly mumbled. "'M fine. Don’t need no babysittin’ bullshit. Ain't needin' ya 'round here either."

You gave him a smile, trying to hide how annoyed you already were with his usual behavior. "You’re obviously not fine, Daryl. You’ve been through a lot, and you know it. I’m here to make sure you don’t do anything stupid, like trying to get up and do something you shouldn’t."

He grumbled in frustration, trying to turn away from you. "Yeah… whatever."

You raised an eyebrow, shaking your head. "Yeah... Too bad, huh? Because right now, that means letting me help you."

"Ain’t nothin’ you can do that Hershel didn’t already do," he mumbled again.

You set down the small medical kit Hershel had brought with him and pulled a chair closer to the bed. "Hershel did his part, sure, but it’s not just about the wounds. You need to rest and relax, and that’s where I come in. Also, taking off the old bandages and putting on new ones isn't that hard, but I doubt that you can do it yourself. And Hershel just left the room, so it's up to me now to change the rest of them. I don't care if you complain about it or not."

You then began to carefully take off the bandages from his side, where the crossbow bolt had pierced itself through. Daryl winced a little, but he didn’t complain so far, his pride keeping him quiet even though you could see how uncomfortable it was for him.

"You know, for someone who’s always acting so tough, you’re a real damn mess right now," you said, trying to break the ice with a bit of humor. "How’d you end up like that anyway? What even happened out there?"

Daryl smirked a bit to himself. "Ya think I’m gonna tell ya a story now? Hell, jus' get it over with."

You shook your head and laughed quietly, focusing on cleaning the wound first. "Hey, I'm not the one that looks like the wrong side of the bed became sentient and beat the ever-loving shit out of you. So you’re going to have to deal with me being the one to help you. It’s either that or I get someone else who’s less careful."

"Less careful?" Daryl asked, and he winced again as you applied antiseptic to the wound. "Sounds to me like yer enjoyin’ this."

You stopped for a moment and looked at him with a teasing smile. "You know what? Maybe I really am enjoying this. Or maybe I just want to make sure you’re not going to cause us any more trouble, even though we all appreciate what you did. Especially Carol."

"Ya think I need ya to look after me? I can handle myself jus' fine," he grumbled and closed his eyes, not wanting to look at you anymore.

You soon finished cleaning the wound and then continued with the fresh bandages. "Oh, I’m sure you can, Dixon. But that’s not even the point. The point is, you’re not in any shape to be running around and playing redneck cowboy."

Daryl moved slightly again, trying to get more comfortable. "Ain't in need to be told twice. Thank ya very much."

You stopped wrapping the bandage around him, waiting for him to get into a more comfortable position. "Stop it with the damn sarcasm, Daryl. For someone who’s always trying to play it cool, you’re really not doing a great job of hiding how much this is bothering you. You do realize that looking weak and needing help are two different things, right? You're far from being weak, and you've done much more for this group than you can probably imagine, even if you're doubting yourself and telling yourself that it's all bullshit in the end." You told him and then continued, putting on the final bandage. "But it's not. And right now, you need to let yourself be looked after, and you need to give us the chance to care about you. Even if it's only for once."

There was a moment of silence, and for a second he looked at you only to look away again, clearly struggling with giving you an honest answer about what he thinks.

You took a deep breath. "Alright, I’m done with the bandages. How about a quick check of your other injuries?"

Daryl nodded quickly, but you could see he was starting to relax a bit. "Yeah, fine. Jus'… make it quick, will ya? Ain't got no time for this bullshit."

You smiled and began checking his other wounds. "So, what’s your actual excuse for not telling us what has happened?"

"Ain't worth tellin’. Jus' 'nother day of me bein’ stupid," he grumbled back as an answer.

Soon enough, you finished checking his other wounds and stood up, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "Well, now that I’ve made sure you’re all patched up, try to get some rest. We’re all counting on you to be back on your feet soon; don't forget that."

He snorted. "Yeah, sure. I’ll try to stay outta trouble while bein' tied to this damn bed."

You smiled and began to pack up the antiseptic and unused bandages, putting them back into the small medical kit. "That’s all I ask for. Get some sleep, Daryl. You know you need it. Something to eat will be ready soon."

As you put away the last of the bandages, you noticed how tense Daryl seemed to be. So you decided to take an extra moment to help him relax, thinking how a little extra care couldn’t hurt.

Your fingers soon massaged his side as you sat down once more, careful not to touch the wound. It was meant to ease the tense muscles around it a bit, but as your hands moved over his skin, you felt that he seemed to react differently when he gasped slightly.

"Ya really don’t have to," he started, but he stopped talking as you continued, your touch slow and feeling soothing.

You looked up, now looking into his eyes. "Why not? You’re all tense. And it’s not just about the injuries; your whole body’s been through a lot. A little extra care might help. There's nothing wrong with it."

He grunted, trying to remain tough, but his breathing grew heavier, betraying his growing discomfort, and you noticed how his body responded to your touch—a reaction he was clearly trying to hide.

His cock began to harden under the sheets. The outline of it was becoming more pronounced, and you could see the rise of the sheets with each breath he took.

You tried to ignore the current awkwardness of the situation, but it was impossible not to notice, and even more impossible not to look at it. Your fingers stopped, and you hesitated momentarily before continuing to massage his side, with Daryl’s eyes squeezed shut and another groan escaping his lips.

"Ugh... Daryl?" You asked quietly, your voice full of curiosity as you realized what was happening. "Are you… okay?"

He opened his eyes and turned his head away from you. "Yeah, jus', jus' let it be. Shit, jus' stop!"

But you couldn’t ignore the evident hardening beneath the sheets anymore. As you moved slightly in your seat to get a little bit closer to him, your hand accidentally brushed against his cock, and Daryl’s reaction was immediate—he sucked in a breath, his body tensing even more.

"Ain’t needin’ ya to… to be all handsy now, goddamn it!" Daryl's voice was trembling, his body shaking a bit, and his muscles straining, even as you didn't continue to massage him. But the sudden power you had over him was intoxicating, and you decided to take your chance and act on it.

You reached down and carefully pulled back the sheets covering his lower body. Daryl’s breathing hitched as you exposed him, and his cock was already hard, pushing against his pants. You could see it clearly now, the visible outline of it.

You smirked at him as you pulled the waistband of his pants down, just enough to pull his cock out and free it from his underwear.

As you pulled it out, Daryl's eyes widened as he watched you handle him. There was no need for words; the look on his face said it all. He felt vulnerable.

You gave him a smile, your hand now wrapped around his throbbing cock. "You look like you're about to lose it, Dixon."

He glared back at you, but there was no real anger in his eyes. "Ain’t fair, ya know…"

You leaned in close to him, your lips touching his ear. "Well, who said life was fair?" Your hand started to move, giving his cock a slow, torturous stroke that had him groaning. "But maybe… if you ask nicely…"

"God… Please," he groaned again, but it was clear he wasn’t used to begging, yet the desperation in his voice was there beyond doubt.

"Good boy," you murmured, and you could see how his eyes slowly closed as he gave in to your touch and words.

You soon picked up the pace, your hand moving faster, his hips bucking into your hand. "Shit, jus' like that," he moaned, his eyes squeezing shut even more tightly.

Fuck… How he wanted it. Your hand working his cock, making him forget about everything that has happened…

You could tell he was close already. His cock twitched in your hand, and the quiet sounds he was making were turning more desperate. "Please," he gasped again. "I… I can’t..."

"Oh? Already, huh?" You teased him, your thumb brushing over the tip of his cock, smearing the pre-cum over it that had gathered there.

You smirked, enjoying the power you had over him. "Do you like this?" You teased him further.

"Yeah, jus' like that…" He panted, his body trembling. "Please... I need ya to touch me more. Can't fuckin' take it..."

"Touch you where, Daryl? Use your words. Be a good boy and tell me exactly what you want."

"My damn dick... please, jus' touch it." You immediately switched your pace back to pump him slowly again, and each stroke of your hand made him shiver, his moans growing a little louder with every touch.

His hips bucked involuntarily, but you kept your rhythm controlled, never speeding up, not letting him get the orgasm he wanted so desperately.

"I thought you were a tough guy. But look at you—so damn needy already. Come on, Daryl," you mumbled. "You’re not done yet. Not until I say so."

He whimpered, trying to thrust into your hand, but you stopped him, keeping him on edge.

"Fuck, please…" He groaned in frustration. "Don’t stop… jus' fuckin' finish me off already!"

You laughed, your grip tightening just enough to torture him a little more. "And why would I do that? You need to learn so much more about patience."

With each stroke, you used different pressure and speed, sometimes going slower just when he thought he was about to finally cum. The feeling was almost unbearable for Daryl, and you could see it in the way his muscles tensed and relaxed again and again, his breathing only coming out in gasps.

"How does it feel, Daryl? Being held on the edge like this?" You asked, looking over at the door to listen if somebody was coming closer.

"Shit, feels so damn good…" He gasped, his voice strained. "I jus' need… I need to… Fuck!"

You smiled, leaning closer to him once more when you were sure that you'd be left alone. "Not yet, tough guy. I want to see just how much you can take."

You continued your teasing, your strokes slow and torturous. "You can take it. I know you can. You want it, don’t you? You want to make me finish you so badly, but you’re going to have to earn it," you whispered.

Daryl could only nod. "Please… Hell, I can't take much more!" 

He couldn't take it anymore. The teasing—it was all too much. He wanted to cum. And he needed you to make him cum. Hell, he loved it. Your hand pumping his cock, teasing him, making him groan with need. The way you toyed with him, bringing him so close only to pull back? Shit, he was losing it… And the way your fingers wrapped around his cock, jerking it just right… It was driving him insane.

You simply grinned, feeling excited because of the power you held over him. "But that's good. Because I want you to remember this. Remember how much you wanted it and how much I made you wait."

His eyes were still squeezed shut, his fists clenched at his sides as he fought against the urge to give in.

With that, you continued to edge him, every touch, every stroke keeping him on the brink, pushing him to the limit of his own control.

And the feeling of sliding your hand back and forth along his thick shaft, the way he groaned and moaned quietly, trying to keep himself quiet just for you—it was everything you wanted...

"Fuck, please," he moaned again, his voice now breaking slightly.

His cock was pulsing in your hand and still leaking pre-cum, and you knew this was the moment he might not be able to hold back any longer. And just when he was about to finally stumble over the edge, you stopped pumping him completely, pulling your hand away from his throbbing cock.

Daryl’s eyes flew open in shock, anger, and need. "What the fuck?" He growled, his voice hoarse. "Why’d ya stop?"

You leaned in, whispering into his ear. "Because I wanted to see you beg for it, Daryl. And you’re not quite there yet."

He glared at you in need, his cheeks red, and sweat started to form on his body. "Ya can’t jus' leave me like this! Please!"

"Oh, but I can," you answered with a smirk. "And I will. Unless you really beg for it."

Daryl closed his mouth, and you could see the muscles in his jaw twitching around as he gritted his teeth, his pride and ego fighting with his desperate need. Finally, he let out a frustrated groan, his head falling back against the pillow.

"Please, please, let me cum," he whispered and finally started to beg and whimper a little more. "Please! I can't take it anymore. Please…"

God... How much he needed you. Desperately. Your hands, your touch, everything about the way you teased and pumped him, the way you handled him… It was like you knew exactly what he wanted and what he needed, and you were giving it to him for free, if only he would beg for it...

You smiled, satisfied with his response. "That’s better. Now, let’s see how much more you can take."

You went back to your teasing, your hand moving slowly over his cock, feeling him twitch and pulse again with every touch. His moans grew a little louder, even more desperate, as you brought him to the edge again and again, only to stop just before he could finally cum.

By the time you finally decided to give him what he needed, Daryl was nothing more than a trembling and pleading mess, his hips bucking toward you again and again, his eyes now looking desperatly at you.

"Fuck, you’re such a good boy, Daryl," you whispered quietly. "Look at you, trying to keep quiet for me, trying to hold back so hard. Taking it like you should… Don't stop looking at me."

You sped up, your movements rough and fast, giving him no time to adjust to the now quick pace. His body was shaking, and you could feel he was more than ready to snap.

"Yeah, you want to cum so bad, don’t you?" You teased. "Go on, Daryl. Cum for me. Show me how much you need it. How much you want it."

With a choked groan, Daryl's body tensed. His orgasm hit him hard, his cock pulsing in your grip as he came all over your hand. You kept pumping him through it, milking every last drop out of him.

"Oh, you really are a good boy, aren't you?" You mumbled. "Let it all out. You did so well for me."

He collapsed back against the bed, completely spent and exhausted, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

You reached for a towel next to the small medical kit, wiping your hand and cleaning up carefully, making sure not to leave any evidence of what had just happened behind, before you looked down at Daryl, a wide smile on your face.

"Fuck," he panted. "That was… fuck..."

"Told you I’d take care of you," you answered him, giving him a wink.

He opened his eyes, looking at you quite exhausted. "Yeah, ya did…"

He didn’t protest as you cleaned him up; he just watched and stared at you with those intense blue eyes, still catching his breath with his mouth slightly open.

"There," you said, as you were finishing everything up. "All cleaned up again."

Daryl didn’t say anything for now, just giving you a small and a little ashamed nod as you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his sweaty face.

"Get some rest now, tough guy," you whispered, pulling back and standing up. "You’re gonna need it. Remember: Be a good boy for me."

"Yeah… I... I..." He grunted in response, unable to even finish his thoughts after hearing your words, which were still making his head spin.

You simply smirked, heading towards the door. "Anytime, Daryl. Anytime."

As you walked out of the room, you couldn’t help but feel satisfied as well. Daryl Dixon might be tough as hell, but in that moment, he was completely and totally yours.

TAG-LIST: @itwasntaphasema

[puffleyia]

After Hours || Theodore Nott

Theodore Nott x fem!reader || 2.3k words

Warnings: Unprotected & clothed sex, p-in-v, Theo speaking some Italian (hope the translations are accurate..) yeah, i'm a sucker for that.

Summary: Exams are two weeks time from now. You've made a deliberate effort to steer clear of your boyfriend, Theo. One unfortunate night, he ends up dragging you into an empty classroom and teaches you a lesson worth remembering.

Author's notes: Hellooo, requests are open ! It's a blast writing ab Theo !! I've only gotten back into writing recently after not writing fics for a good while. sorry if i'm slow at churning out fics. I'm busy!

It was roughly two weeks before examinations, and professors have even stopped giving out homework as to focus students’ time on reviewing for their respective subjects. You’ve been studying your ass off in the library day and night, sometimes offering your friends to join in as well. Though, they quickly get bored as they soon offer to do much more interesting things  than studying such as having a go at wizard chess, or exploding snap.

It took a lot of self control not to join them, and it took even more not to just put down your book and see Theo. You had been purposely avoiding him because he would always end up distracting you, one way or another. You always catch him stealing a glance at you, and you would almost squirm at the way he looked at you; severely in discomfort as the tension between you two only continued to rise due to the lack of interaction.

It felt suffocating to say the least, so you even began trying not to even breathe in his direction. Needless to say, the bastard still had his ways. He would sometimes sneak up behind you in the library, as you pore over the shelves, inviting himself in as he grabbed your waist and buried his face in your neck. Another is when he would attempt to ensnare you right after your classes. 

In the end, you always found yourself ending up hiding away in your common room. You would get past him just by the skin of your teeth each time, as he used his cunning words and a dangerous tone that was like poisoned honey.

You thought, or, more like hoped it would be a quiet night tonight, staying up past curfew hours at the library and praying none of the professors nor prefects would catch you. Though perhaps you were too engrossed in Advanced Potion Making to notice the echo of footsteps that slowly grew louder as it drew nearer to you. Your ears simply blanked it out as mere white noise.

It had not even registered yet in your head until you felt an arm wrap around your shoulder, as someone sat beside you. You didn’t need to look to know who it was, as you could see him faintly through your peripherals. “You’ve been so distant lately, amore,” he says, his tone unhappy and laced with a hint of something else you couldn’t quite make out underneath it. 

“Sorry, Theo, I-I’m only trying to focus on the exams at the moment. I mean, not in a bad way but, if I spend time with you, I’ll only end up distracted,” you say, trying to clarify yourself to him. Maybe it would’ve been a good idea to tell him sooner. He sighs, “I guess I’ll just have to–” he gets cut off as you both stiffen at the sound of someone approaching.

He hastily places a firm hand over your mouth, silencing your protests, and shoves your book, notes, and quill into your arms. Before you could object, he then relocates you two into an empty classroom, hastily and skillfully sneaking around the halls to get there. It looked unkempt, and it seemed as if it were not used regularly either. He finally released you from his grasp as you gasped for air. “Theo! What the he–” you say, as he quickly covers your mouth again. “Shh, you’re gonna get us caught, principessa.” He says in a low voice, in a near-whisper before he lets go again. “Ahem,” you clear up your throat before you speak, “I-I believe I should get going, Theo.” He furrows his brows at that, frowning slightly. You head towards the classroom’s door, before he grabs you by the waist from behind and pulls you in.

“Who said you were leaving, hm? Are you trying to avoid me again?” He says, as he moved the both of you to sit on one of the chairs. You remain in his arms, unable to get out despite your attempts to wiggle out and you end up on his lap. “Theo.” You say firmly, trying to assert yourself to let him know you really are serious about studying. “Mm, fine, since you’re so stubborn. Tell you what, how about I study with you?” He says suggestively, his voice making you feel things you were not supposed to. Not right now at least.

“Really?” You say skeptically, raising an eyebrow. You place your stuff down, with a dull thud as it is placed on the table. Sounding slightly annoyed, he says, “What's with the attitude, hm? Are you doubting me?” “F-fine, then,” you hesitantly agree, knowing he’s got you exactly where he wants to be. Alone with him.

“Brava ragazza,” he says, as he rests his head on your shoulder whilst flipping open your book. You can not help but faintly squeeze your thighs together, you didn’t know most of the time what he was saying when he spoke to you in Italian, but you found it incredibly hot when he did. Your actions do not go unnoticed by him, though he was not going to do anything yet. You pick up your quill, your eyebrows knitting together as you attempt to focus on taking your notes. 

“Tell you what, I’ll ask you a few questions to help you. If you get it right, I won’t do anything. If you don't…” He says, his voice trailing off as he does not continue what he was going to say, though the timbre in his voice gave enough implication. You gulp and nod, your throat bobbing as you swallow. You knew you did not really have much of a say, Theo’s done a good job of cornering you. Not to mention the fact he knew you were slightly struggling with potions, too.

“Right then, amore, can you tell me how Golpalott’s Third Law influences the effectiveness and stability of potions?” He asked amusedly, his foot tapping the floor rhythmically. “Uhm,” you say, muttering in an attempt to answer, “Uh, well, it’s... um, when you have a potion with, uh, lots of different poisons, right? So, um, the antidote... it's not just, um, the sum of... wait, no, it's more than that! Yeah, um…” You begin feeling your mouth go dry as the tension in the room fills the air. You feel your heart thump loudly against your ribcage.

“It’s when you have multiple poisons mixed together in a potion, the antidote needs to be more potent or comprehensive to counteract their combined effects.” He says, cockily smirking as he corrects you. Your breath hitches as he takes off your robes and his, tossing it aside as he hikes up your skirt and gropes you. “Theo!” You gasp at his actions. He buries his face on the crook of your neck, as he breathed in your scent before he began kissing it.

“Cazzo,” he mumbles before he spat out another question, “What are the common ingredients and methods used to counteract the effects of different poisons?” You feel the tent in his pants growing, his cock pressing against your clothed cunt. “I–” You manage to get out before biting your lip, stifling a moan. You had reviewed this, but lust simply clouded your mind for you to formulate a cohesive answer.

“Um, er.. D-dittany, for uhm, venom,” you say, as Theo continued teasing you, grinding his hips upwards so that you could feel his dick. You moan at the friction on your pussy, feeling your panties get wet. “I..” You slur, unable to say anything further. “Cockdrunk already, cara mia?” He lets out a guttural laugh, bending you over the table and grabbing your hips roughly as he continues grinding his cock on your pussy. 

“Don’t forget, Bezoar, for example–” he grunts, “–is a stone found in the stomach of certain magical creatures like goats. It's known for its ability to neutralise many poisons when ingested. Then there's the Antidote to Common Poisons…” He corrects you, adding more strings of information you probably needed. Though, it was not as if you were paying attention, as you were moving your hips hungrily back onto his dick, only being separated by thin fabric. 

“Merda, might as well just fuck you if you keep getting my questions wrong, principessa.” He says, his voice dangerously low as you hear the clink of his belt unbuckling and the distinct sound of his fly unzipping. You look over your shoulder, watching him intently as he pulls down his dark grey boxers and frees his cock. “Theo, please,” you whine, as he smacks your ass and pushes your panties aside. “I thought you were too busy studying? Maybe I should just leave you to that,” he teases you, tapping his dick on your cunt and rubbing it in between your folds.

“No, please,” you plead, and desperately you pressed yourself onto his cock. “Beg, cara mia,” he husked condescendingly, enjoying humiliating you as he continued teasing your wet pussy. “Please, mmhn–” you moan, “I’m sorry, Theo. I-I need it, please, need your cock,” you whimper, flushed from embarrassment as he finally slipped the tip inside you. He pressed inside, at a gruellingly slow pace. 

“Cazzo, una puttana così sporca, aren’t you huh?” You could not place your finger on a single word he said in Italian, but your pussy definitely could. He groaned loudly as he grew impatient, shoving the rest of his dick into you. His groin pressed flush against your ass. You moaned loudly at that, and with a swift motion, he reached out and clamped his hand over your mouth. “Shh, cara mia,” he whispers sultrily in your ear as he quickly silences you, unwilling for the both of you to get caught.

You let out a few muffled sounds against his hand as he began thrusting into you, slowly drawing out his cock as he slammed it back into you with such force that the table beneath you shook. “Such a slut aren’t you? Merda,” He rasped as he uncovers your mouth, “yes!” you say, as he’s eliciting vulgar moans from you each time he fucked his dick back in.

He slithered his hand down onto your pussy, rubbing your clit. He leans in, grunting, as he kisses your nape. He sucks on your neck, trailing down to your back, leaving red marks as he sealed each one afterwards with a kiss. “Ti senti così maledettamente bene, amore,” he groaned, only setting his pace rougher as he hit a particularly deep spot inside you, hitting your cervix. 

“Oh fuck, Theo,” you whine, as you tried to remain as quiet as you could. Your hands firmly grip onto the edges of the table, your nails digging into it, as he fucks you into oblivion. Tears brim at your eyes, as close them shut. Some teardrops cling onto your pretty lashes, and some flow down your cheek, falling down, staining the pages of your book. He loved watching you cry in pleasure, observing your expressions as he drove himself into you.

He loomed over you, using a hand to cup your jaw to force your head to look up at his face. “Open your mouth, cara mia.” He said, an authoritative tone that rolled off his tongue like butter. You oblige, parting your lips, your tongue lolling out as you do. He spits in your mouth, the hand holding your chin clamping your jaw shut afterwards . “Swallow.”

You do as he says, swallowing his spit as he lets go of your jaw and your head hangs down soon after. With that, he fucks you rougher, his pace frantic. You become nothing short of a moaning mess, he returns his hand to your clit and strokes it rhythmically in time with his thrusts. You let out small whimpers and whines as you feel hazy and drunk on his cock. 

Theo, in an intoxicated trance, mutters a string of curses and praises in Italian. You cry out his name in ecstasy with every jab at your sweet spot as he ploughs into you. You feel a familiar warmth pooling at your stomach, only feeling more pleasurable by the second. “Theo, m’gonna cum, T-Theo,” you babble almost incoherently. He leans in briefly, and in a gravelly tone, “Cum on my cock, cara mia.” He says, letting his breath trickle down your neck.

Spasming around him, you dissolve into pleasure as you see stars. You selfishly clench around his dick, as if you wanted to milk him dry. Cumming all over his cock, you quite literally bury your face into your book, in an attempt to muffle the loud moan you let out as you do. 

His thrusts grow languid and sloppy, hips stuttering unrhythmically as his climax nears. “Want me to cum inside you, principessa?” He husked, now digging his fingers into your hips as he chased his high. “Yes, yes, mhn–” you chant, unable to think straight. “Theo, please,” you pleaded. 

With one final thrust, he groans loudly and buries himself fully inside you and stuffs your pussy with his cum. You felt his cock pulsing inside you, both of you panting as he rode out his orgasm. “Fuck, atta girl,” he says breathily, praising you as he pulls out of your cunt. He watches as you softly moan as you feel white globs of cum trickle out of your folds, dripping down your thighs.

He hastily tucks his cock back into his pants, pulling your skirt back in place as he walks (more like carries) you back to your common room that night before he headed back to his. Well, it was safe to say you definitely got nothing done that night, though he makes it up to you the following afternoon by actually helping you study with potions.

[faithisyours]

Can’t Imagine Losing You

Azriel x Fem!reader

Summary: Azriel’s been acting moody lately, and you've had enough.

Warnings: ANGST! but also fluff. Smut, smut, SMUT! possessive Az, whimpering whiny Az, sort of a switch dynamic between the two, P in V, coming inside, oral both receiving, some ass stuff, i think that's it, not proof read

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Hey y’all! Sorry for being MIA. Here’s another fic as a peace offering. I wanted to try some angst so hopefully I did it right. This whole thing took so many turns. Hope it's comprehensible. If you have any requests for fics you'd like me to write, I'm all ears (i need ideas, please I’m begging). As always, minors go away. Majors, enjoy!

“I have some work I need to do at the House of Wind today. It shouldn't take long.”

You were sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast, enjoying the warm summer breeze coming in through the open window when Azriel informed you he had to leave. You were disappointed, but not at all surprised. It seemed like there was always something to do, some report needing finished or some training schedule needing tweaked. And it was always your mate who needed to do it, especially on his off days, it seemed.

“Can you stay for breakfast at least?” you asked, infusing your words with hope to mask the disappointment.

“I’m sorry, my love, I can’t. I’ll see you later.” He pressed a swift kiss to the top of your head before practically running out the door. There was no, “I’ll make it up to you later,” or, “How about breakfast tomorrow?” or even an, “I love you,” before he had disappeared.

Instances like this had been happening more frequently over the past couple years, but recently it had gotten out of hand for you. You had been mated to Azriel for over a century at this point, and had known each other far longer than that. You originally assumed that these instances were caused by Azriel being distracted by his work. Being the spymaster for the Night Court was a lot to manage. But more recently you had begun to wonder if the spark had dimmed for Azriel. If he had started to feel differently than he had when you two were first mated.

You decided that tonight you would bring up your concerns with him. You prayed to the Mother it was only because he was so busy and not because he had begun to feel differently about being mated to you. For now, though, you finished your breakfast, put away the extra food you had made for Azriel, and got ready for your day.

Since Azriel wasn’t going to be home until later, you figured you could get some errands done while he was away. Azriel had been running low on his sleep tonic for a while now, so you decided to stop by your favorite apothecary and pick him up another one. While you were out, you figured you could stop by the market and get some more wine to replenish the stash you and the other ladies of the Inner Circle had drained not too long ago. You also picked up some ingredients you would need for dinner tonight.

It was nearing noon when you decided to head back home, but as you were making your way back, you passed the shop you had gotten your favorite lingerie set from. It couldn’t hurt, you thought, to go in and look around. It had been a while since you got a new set, and you thought you should treat yourself. If you found something you liked, of course. And as soon as you walked in, a rich purple satin set caught your attention. It was perfect; simple yet sexy, and looked rather comfortable as well. It had criss-cross straps that circled around the back and waist, to connect to the bottoms, which were detailed with black lace on the hips. You didn’t have a purple set yet, and you thought maybe Azriel would like it too. Maybe if things went well tonight you would let him see it.

You made your way home, purchases in hand, including that satin set, and hoped by the time you got there that Azriel would be home. But he wasn’t. You entered an empty home, warm yet breezy from the window you had left open, and started unloading your purchases. You put the wine on the rack, the ingredients for dinner on the kitchen table, and Azriel’s sleep tonic on his bedside table. Lastly, you fished that purple satin set out of its bag and tried it on.

You didn’t bother trying it on in the store because you already knew your measurements and didn’t want to bother anyone anyway. Just like you suspected, it was incredibly comfortable, and it fit you like a glove. Exhaustion washed over you then, even though it was a little past noon. Going out to run errands always seemed to suck the energy right out of you.

You didn’t bother taking off the set, but instead rifled through Az’s shirt drawer to find your favorite one of his, a flowy black cotton button down, and threw it on. Even though Az wasn’t here right now, you still wanted to feel close to him, hence the shirt. You curled yourself up on his side of the bed, enveloped in the comfort of his scent, and closed your eyes. The last thought you had before falling asleep was hoping this whole thing was a misunderstanding.

–

You awoke to the sound of a door slamming. You sat up, wiped the sleep from your eyes, and made your way towards the kitchen, the most likely source of the noise. You saw Azriel, leaning over the kitchen sink looking out the window. You glanced at the clock above the hearth, noting you had been asleep for about 4 hours.

“Hey Az,” you said groggily, “Sorry I didn’t meet you at the door, I was taking a nap. Did you just get home?” you asked, walking closer to him. He gave you a grunt in response. You noticed his shadows swirling agitatedly around him, making you stop in your tracks. “Az, are you okay? Did something happen?” A million thoughts cycled through your head in seconds. Did something happen at work? Are Cassian and Rhys okay? Is he mad at you? Did you forget something he asked you to get at the market?

“I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about it.” His answers were clipped, monotone. “I'll be in our room.” he pushed off from the sink and brushed right past you, not even bothering to look you in the eye, give you a kiss, or look even the slightest bit apologetic for his attitude.

“I got you more sleeping tonic. It’s on your bedside table,” you informed him. You got a closing bedroom door in response.

You had a lot of patience. You prided yourself on the amount of patience you had. But it was warring paper thin for your mate. You decided to make dinner to take your mind off it, and to hopefully give him time to calm down. It’s not like he’d never been moody before, but this was a little much. He was starting to act like a teenage son, not your mate.

–

Thirty minutes later dinner was done and on the table. You went over to your bedroom door, still closed, and knocked, then poked your head in.

“Dinner is done. I made one of your favorites,” you informed Azriel, who was just walking out of the connected bathing room when you had poked your head in. He had changed into something more comfortable since the last time you saw him.

“Be right out,” he responded, glancing at you as he said it.

You walked back out to the kitchen table and began to load up both your plates with food. Azriel joined you just as you sat down. He immediately started eating, seemingly not concerned that the food was still hot enough to burn his mouth. And it looked like you would be carrying the conversation this evening.

“Was everything alright at the House of Wind today?” you pried, hoping the question came off as inconspicuous.

“Everything is fine. It’s handled now,” he offered, still shoveling food into his mouth.

“Alright. Good. I just wanted to -”

He cut you off. “Can we just eat in silence please? It's been a long day.” The words were stern, but his tone was soft, tired. You paused at his words, letting them sink in. Maybe this was just a bad day for him. Maybe he would be better tomorrow. Maybe this conversation should wait, if he’s pretty tired already. But how long had this gone on? How long have you wanted to say something about it?

“No,” you said simply. He paused, a fork-full stopped midway between his plate and mouth. Finally, he looked at you. “No, we’re not going to sit in silence. I have something I want to talk about. And I realize you may have had a shitty day, but I also had a day. I did things I want to talk with you about. I’ve wanted to have a conversation with you since this morning. So, no, actually. I’m not going to sit here in silence. Okay?” You stayed staring into his hazel eyes until you got a nod, but you wanted his answer in words. So you kept gazing into those hazel eyes until you got one.

“Okay. Alright,” he said, lowering his fork and pushing away from the table slightly, keeping his eyes on you. “What did you want to talk about, Love?”

His use of that endearment almost makes you reconsider this conversation. Almost. “I wanted to talk about your workload. And how it’s affecting me. And your treatment of me.” He only nodded, encouraging you to continue. “I feel like your workload doesn’t leave time for us anymore. It seems like the amount of stuff you have to do on a daily basis is way more than it used to be. You barely get any time off, and even on your days off you still have to do something. Like today. And I want to know if that’s how you feel, too.” You gave him time to consider.

He cleared his throat. “I like to stay busy. You know that. I haven’t noticed an increase in my duties, but even if there has been, I’m not sure if there is anything I could do about it. Everyone’s plate is already full. I can talk to Rhys about allocating jobs, but I can’t make any promises.”

You nodded, if only to give you something to do. That was not the answer you wanted to hear, but you could work with it. You wanted to broach your next point, but you were scared he wouldn’t take it well. You took a deep breath. “This… this leads me into my next point. I feel like…I feel as though you haven't been treating me how I want to be treated recently. Like sometimes I get my mate Az, and other days I get Azriel the shadowsinger. Or I get moody, likes-to-slam-doors Az who can’t bother to answer his mate in full sentences because he's too pissed off at something he doesn’t even want to tell me, his mate, who he should be able to tell everything to, even if it “doesn’t concern me.”” Your voice had started to rise, but you couldn’t help it. You were angry. “And this was why I wanted to talk about your workload. It feels like you’re getting upset more because you have more to do, which in turn makes you unintentionally take it out on me. you regard me as a permanent fixture in this house, but I am not. I will leave if I am not treated the way I deserve. And Gods, Azriel, I hope that this is the only reason, that it is only because of you working too much, because if it’s something else, if it has to do with your feelings towards me changing, I don’t…I don’t even…” you trailed off, holding back a sob that had started climbing your throat.

Azriel was now standing, making his way over to you. He knelt down right in front of you, taking your hand in his, his eyes, full of worry and confusion, searched yours for answers. “Okay, alright, you’re right. I have been acting like a jerk to you recently. And I’m so sorry for that. Truly. Work has been a lot to deal with recently, but that’s no excuse. I'll talk to Rhys about getting more time off. So I can spend it with you, alright? But how could you think my feelings have changed? How could you even think that?” His look was incredulous.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, or rather, tried to. “We’ve been mated for a century. A lot can happen in that amount of time. I thought maybe…maybe the spark was dimming for you. Maybe you changed your mind. About me. About us. And if you did, that would be alright. I would live with that, if it made you happy.” You work your confession out between sobs. “I just…I guess I just got scared. I don't want to lose you.”

His eyes were still on yours, but the emotion in them had shifted. Now they were full of anger. Not anger for you, but rather anger at himself. How could he treat you like this? In a way that made you think he did not love you anymore. He had failed, he realized. He was failing you, your relationship, your trust in him. He had to fix this, had to try harder. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said with conviction, no room left for argument. “I love you. So much. More now than I did a century ago. Every day I love you more. I didn’t even think that was possible, but with you it is. You’re not getting rid of me even if you wanted to, okay? I’m staying, and I’m going to try harder, get more days off, spend them all with you. You’re the love of my life, ya? Nothing will change that.” He pulled you into a hug, kissed away your tears, and kept kissing you until your cheeks were dry.

He kissed you one more time, hard, on the cheek, then went back to his side of the table and sat down. He thanked you for dinner, asked about your day, what all you did, and in turn told you what had happened at the House of Wind. Apparently one of the Illarian camps had started some fights with another camp over space and resources. Rhys had thought it was taken care of, but there was another fight today, which resulted in Azriel having to go over there, break it up, and be the peacekeeper longer than he wanted. Hence him coming home late and in a pissy mood.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he stated, cutting off your story of you in the market today. It wasn’t a conscious thought to cut you off. He had only just now realized you were wearing his shirt, and basically nothing else. He had been so distracted by what had happened today and you bringing up your concerns that he hadn’t even noticed. Possession coiled in his stomach like a serpent strangling its prey. Seeing you in his clothes, even though it was a rare occurrence, always made him hard. He couldn’t help it. Your strong, soft body wrapped in his shirt, the sleeves rolled up to your elbows, exposing all that lickable skin. It made his knees buckle.

“Is that okay?” you asked tentatively. He was looking at you now like a starved man, which you knew he wasn't, given the finished plate of food before him. You rarely wore his clothes, mainly because you swam in them due to how big they were on you. You guessed he was just surprised to see you in something of his, but that didn’t explain the heat in his gaze. “I put it on after I got home from running errands. I wanted to take a nap and I figured you weren’t using it so…” you explained, trailing off.

“You’ve been wearing my shirt all day. Only my shirt.” It wasn’t a question. More like a repetition of the fact in order to understand. But it wasn’t just his shirt you were wearing. As he said it he noticed the purple strap poking out by your shoulder. A purple strap. You didn’t own any purple undergarments. “What is that?” he asked, his gaze burning a hole in your shoulder.

Before you could even answer him he said, “Purple. You don’t own anything purple.” His gaze was lighting you on fire, his eyes full of slow understanding, pupils blown wide with lust.

You got up from your chair, pushing your empty dinner plate slightly forward, and walked around the kitchen table to his side to stand right in front of him. “Well, while I was out,” you started, your voice low and seductive, “I passed by that shop, you know, the one I got that royal blue set from.” Azriel knew exactly what you were talking about. Remembered your squirming form underneath him while you were in that set. He was starting to feel lightheaded from how much of his blood had gone to his crotch. “And I figured it wouldn’t hurt to go in and see if they had anything as good as that royal blue set.” You were teasing him now, you knew it. But it was so fun, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Please, my love. Please let me see it. Let me see you,” he begged, winned. It was music to your ears. He was so hard it looked like it hurt. He had started slipping off his chair onto his knees in front of you, his scarred hands coming up to grip your hips. He was actually begging.

“You want to see it?” you taunted. He nodded, swallowing audibly. “Alright, but no touching. Not yet.” You pushed his hands off your hips, which was more difficult than you thought it would be, and began unbuttoning the shirt. Each button you worked to undo made Azriel’s breathing heavier, until he was practically panting. His hands were clenched so tightly at his sides you were sure his fingernails would leave marks on his palms.

You felt like a goddess; the man you adored more than anything knelt at your feet, completely enraptured by you, in awe of all you are. You reached the last button, undoing it achingly slowly, just to see your mate break out in a sweat. His hands were clenching his thighs hard enough to bruise, his chest heaved like a dying man, and the only thing shining in his eyes was need. Need for you, need to touch you, need to be buried in you until neither of you could tell where one ended and the next began. Azriel was a gentleman, but right now, here in front of you, he was the embodiment of pure animalistic lust. One word from you and he would snap. Just how you liked him.

You let the shirt part, giving him a nice view of the valley between your breasts, as well as the crossing straps and lower, to where those straps connected. You dragged one side of the shirt down off your shoulder, then repeated the movement on the other side. Finally, you let the shirt drop off of you, leaving you only in that purple set. You stepped closer to him, and caressed his face with your hand.

“Please.” It was barely a whisper, but you heard it, saw his lips part to form the word. His eyes were pleading with yours. He needed you. Now.

“Okay,” was all you said before he was on you, standing, gripping your hips, kissing you, running his hands over all that satin. He was everywhere all at once, biting your lips, coaxing moans from your throat, groaning over the feel of you, and you reveled in it all. His hands came around the back of your thighs, and suddenly you were being picked up and carried down the hall, towards your shared bedroom.

You were placed gently onto the bed, which was still rumpled from your nap earlier. Azriel leaned over you, taking you all in. “I love the purple, but I need you naked,” he said, peppering your jaw with kisses. You reached down to your hips and unhooked the straps from the panties. Azriel quickly figured out how to get your top off, and in a matter of seconds he was dragging the purple satin down your breasts just so his hands and lips could cover them again.

He took one of your nipples into his mouth, rolled the other between his fingers, and sucked and licked and pinched and bit till your chest was littered with marks from him. All the while, moans and whimpers poured out of you. Azriel reveled in the divine sounds you made, the sounds he made you make.

He made his way down your body, drawing closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Please, baby. Please let me taste you,” he whispered, pleaded, begged. You gave him confirmation, that one word he needed to hear, then he was dragging those purple satin panties down your legs and throwing them across the room. He parted your legs, exposing your glistening core to him. The look in his eyes was that of absolute hunger. He didn’t bother with teasing you. He put his tongue right on your cunt, giving you no time to adjust or think before he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit, spreading your arousal across his tongue.

You propped yourself up on your elbows so you could watch him; watch as he devoured you, drank from you, absolutely consumed you. He licked and sucked at your clit, brought it between his teeth, and eased the bite with more licks. Your head fell back as you moaned his name, lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Sooner than you even thought possible, you were on the edge of release, that coil in your belly drawing tighter and tighter. Without warning, Azriel slid a finger into you, curling it in a way that had you falling apart. He added a second, and it was your undoing.

You came with Azriel’s name on your lips. He worked you through your pleasure, continued to lick and suck till you were shaking from overstimulation. You pushed his head away, but he wouldn’t budge. He kept on licking you, drinking every drop of your release straight from the source. You were boneless, soar from overstimulation, but you could feel another orgasm rising within you.

Azriel moaned from the taste of you, the vibration making your hips buck. He continued to work his fingers into you, curling perfectly to reach that spot that made you scream. Profanities and pleads and promises poured from your mouth, but Azriel didn’t stop until you were coming again, on his fingers, on his face, on his tongue. Finally, after drinking every last drop of your essence, he worked his way back up to your mouth.

He kissed you until you came back to reality, until your limbs regained function. You kissed him back, moaning from the taste of yourself on his tongue. And then you were pushing him onto his back, straddling his hips to keep him there. He struggled a bit, pointing to his pinned wings, but you only smiled at him. “Is the Illarian baby pinned?” you taunted him. He stopped struggling, but instead glared at you. So you dragged a finger down one of the veins in his wings, and a moan slipped past his lips.

“That's what I thought,” you muttered. He was still fully clothed, and the contrast of your nakedness only spurred you on further. You kissed him, long and deep and unhurried, while you unbuttoned the length of his shirt. He broke the kiss to shed his shirt, so you turned your attention to unlacing his pants. While you worked, he kissed and nipped your neck, working marks into your soft flesh. You worked his pants down his legs, aided with Azriel’s help, and eventually he was naked underneath you.

You pressed him down to lay flat on the bed, then started your journey down towards his hard length. As you worked your way down, you liked and sucked and bit until his skin was littered with marks, just like yours was. You scraped your nails down his arms, down his sides, till he was shivering from your touch.

Kneeling now between his legs, guided a hand towards his length while you kissed his hips and rolled the skin between your teeth. His hips bucked at the fist fell of your hands on him, which made you smile. “So responsive,” you purred, then licked him from base to tip. He let out a moan that had your thighs rubbing together. With your tongue, you licked up the bead of precum that had frond, then promptly took as much of him into your mouth as you could.

Azriel speared his fingers through your hair, not to control your head but to steady himself. Your mouth was a dream to him; warm and wet and perfect. Second best only to your cunt. You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper and deeper into your mouth until he was hitting the back of your throat. Az was panting at this point, his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Your mouth felt so good, but he needed to be inside you.

“I’m gonna…please…I need to be inside you,” he panted out. You pulled your mouth off him with a pop, then gave him one last lick before you climbed your way back up to him. You kissed him, mainly just so he could taste himself on you. Then you positioned your hips just above his, readying yourself to sink onto his length.

Using his hand, he parted you, spreading your slick on you and on his hand. He eased you onto his cock slowly, letting you adjust to him. Every time you took him, it was an adjustment. You hoped that would never change. You both made an obscene noise when he was finally, completely in you.

“You want to be filled, baby?” he asked as he ran the fingers he had parted you with down between your ass cheeks. Yes, you wanted to be full of him, wanted to be overwhelmed by him, wanted to feel him everywhere. You nodded. “Words, love,” he chided softly.

“Yes, please Az,” you wined. That was all you had to say before he worked his fingers into you, using your slick on his fingers as lube. He gripped your hips with the rest of that hand and the other, a bruising grip that was sure to leave bruises.

Azriel was sitting up slightly now, and even though you were on top of him, he set the pace. Slow rolls of your hips guided by his hands started you off. All you could think about was how full of him you were, how overwhelming the feeling of him everywhere was. Your pace quickens, spurred on by your whimpers and his moans. Your eyes were locked with eachothers, and within Azriel’s you saw his bottomless pool of love for you. His pupils were blown wide, and so were yours.

You kissed him, hard, and he returned it even harder. You’re moaning into eachothers mouths, the only goal being to guide each other to your peaks. You could feel that ache building, that need for release drawing closer and closer. Azriel could feel it too, reveling in the way your walls gripped him. He shifted his free hand around to play with your clit, and then you were coming, harder than you had in a while, cresting on a silent scream.

Azriel was right behind you, fucking sloppily into you until you were gripping him so tightly he could barely move. He came, chanting your name like a prayer, until his voice went hoarse.

You both laid there, panting and boneless, for minutes or hours or days, you couldn't tell. Eventually he guided you off of him, pulling out of you with a hiss, to lay you next to him. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before getting up to go to the bathing room. You heard the sound of water rushing into the tub, and in the next minute Azriel came back in, picked you up bridal style, and whisked you into the bathing room.

He set you down gently into the warm water then joined you, settling in right behind you. He pulled you back so your back was against his chest, then proceeded to wash you with a soapy cloth. When he was done you returned the favor, batting his hand away when he tried to protest. You finished up in the bath, dried each other off, then slipped into some sleeping clothes and then bed.

“We’re okay, right?” he asked, pulling you closer to him. Your heart melted, warmed by the idea that he wanted to make sure.

Yes, Az. We’re all good,” you replied, giving him a kiss on the nose.

“Okay. good,” was all he said before he tucked you tighter into him and you both fell asleep.

[katiascraft]

so i thought like reader being williams social media manager and she is also Francos ex girlfriend. And now Franco is coming into f1 and they see each other again? I don’t know if it makes sense hut yeah. Maybe you like the idea. Love your stuff💗

Hey sweetie 💌 ooooooh I love the idea! I love drama and second chances! Hope you like it. Thank you so much for your request! You are the first to do so. And so I wanted to let you know you made me so happy today :3 (sorry if it took a while but better late than ever! And I hope you have a wonderful day as well 🩵)

——————————————————————————————

“But we were something, don’t you think so? And if my wishes came true it would’ve been you” | FC43

Parings: Franco Colapinto x WilliamsRancingEmployee!Reader.

Summary: Franco and you broke up a while ago. You didn’t expect to see him ever again until he starts driving in F1 for Williams Racing Team.

Now playing: “The 1” by Taylor Swift.

Word count: +2,4k.

Warnings: a little angst? And fluff. Not a native English speaker so there could be errors. Not proofread.

Author’s note: thank you anon for your request again! First time writing about Fran - maybe I could get used to this. Don’t forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

You were trying to not lose your umbrella because of the wind. It was raining pretty heavily. England was never a city where happy spirits lived. The sky it’s pretty much sad and depressed most days of the year. But you loved it. You loved feeling melancholy. Remembering your past with a smile or tears.

You had something of not overcoming the past pretty fast. It’s really hard for you to let go and deal with deadlines.

You got finally to the bus stop where a ceiling was now protecting you a little from the water. You were heading for the Williams Racing factory where you’ve worked for a few years now. You were the social media manager at Williams. And you had a meeting with the marketing department.

These last few months were really hard on you. And the reason was just one single person. And that was Franco.

You and Franco dated for two years back when he got in F4. You were teenagers. But still he was the guy who made you feel all the butterflies for the first time. The relationship didn’t end pretty well. You didn’t wanna end it but he told you that he had already made his decision. He needed to be focused to be able to jump to F1 and your romance to him was a distraction. That hurt you so much. And it still hurts thinking about it.

You heart stoped for a second when you saw a guy walking towards your same bus stop - you thought it was Franco because he takes the bus to work just like he always did since you two met. But it wasn’t. Though the guy from afar looked a lot like him. You calmed yourself down.

You job got pretty tricky since Franco jumped finally into F1. You were so happy for him. You wanted to talk to him and tell him how proud of him you were but you couldn’t. You were supposed to hate each other. Working with him was a challenge. You just decided to pretend you didn’t even know who he was and treat him as you treated Alex or Logan before. Even though your heart raced so fast by just looking at him, talk to other people.

First time you saw him was back in august when James announced a new driver was chosen to replace Logan. You loved Logan. Such a great guy. But you understood this was also a business and money is top priority. And Williams isn’t a team with many economic resources so each penny counted. James did an introduction to him a day before the race. He said hi to everyone. When you two saw each other just shook hands. You couldn’t even look at him. When you were back home you had a breakdown and needed to call your therapist because you don’t know how the fuck you were be able to deal him every single day. And even post about him most of the time because for your unlucky luck people became obsessed with him. Everybody loved Franco. And you understood why: he was the most charming and handsome boy you have ever met. And he didn’t change a bit after one year of not seeing him - you thought - forever.

Finally you took the bus. You were gonna be late so you texted your co-worker Amanda to let her know it. You sat on the only free seat that there was.

You were preoccupied in revising everything you had to stay and show in your meeting you didn’t realize the guy sitting next to you was actually franco.

After an awkward silence Franco broke the ice “hey… buenos días” he said with a raspy voice. He was nervous. Not sure if you were okay if he even opened his mouth.

You felt colder than the weather when you heard him. You looked at him to check you weren’t dreaming and indeed you weren’t. You give him a little smile. “Oh hi fran” that’s how you used to call him. Your heart sank a bit. “Good morning. Sorry I didn’t see you. I have a reunion and didn’t want to forget anything. You have a workout today?” You just decided to talk to him. A little chat wouldn’t kill you. And you hated pretending you didn’t know him. He smelled just the same. The same perfume. He had his mate bag with him and a boca juniors gym bag. Just as how you remembered him. You licked your lips nervously.

He nodded shyly and you saw his cheeks turning red for some reason. “Yeah I have gym today. And everything’s gonna be fine at the meeting. You always explain yourself perfectly” he said, sending you a sweet smile. His voice was deep and raspy. You knew he was still a little sleepy knowing it was almost 8am. You smiled back at him.

“Thank you” you said sweetly. Another weird silence took place between you two. You didn’t know what to say. You just looked around.

“Are you still mad at me y/n?” He said out of nowhere. The words just jumped out of his mouth. He was still hunted by what happened between you two. You looked at him again, giving him a sad look. You denied it with your head.

“No I'm not… I’m just sad. We were something right? But you know. It was hard to let you go but yeah…” you hesitated in what you could tell him. You didn’t even know what you were feeling right now. He stared at you a few seconds and nodded looking down. He started playing with his fingers.

“Maybe we could talk about all of this when you finish your meeting? I really think we should talk. I… I don’t like when you pretend you don’t know me… like we never knew each other you know? I feel really guilty about it. And… I’m proud of where you are now. It was your dream and you made it. And you’re really good at it. You give fans what they need” he said shyly and sad? He was working hard to show he can be an F1 driver. That he deserves a seat. But also he was really sad because he since decided to end things with you. He already regretted it.

Yes, he was more focused but he didn’t have your support. He isn’t into physical touch but your hugs were his favorites. He would let you touch him forever. He felt empty and really lonely. Even his family had to deal with the grief of not having you around anymore.

Yes, it was worth it for a while when he had James tell him he was gonna drive an F1 car for the end of the season. But when he saw you standing there. More beautiful than he has ever seen you. You looked so happy and profesional. So beautiful. And bright. He hated himself right there. Because you'd have done it together if he wouldn’t have been so selfish. He didn’t think he was in love with you when you broke up. But as the time passed he felt miserable. Getting home and seeing no one. No music. No you playing sims and showing him the sims you created while he was gone. No cooking cookies for tea time or ‘merienda’ how it is called in Argentina. Anyone to share mates with or talk about the day. No one to cuddle on the sofa or to forget about everything in bed. No one to go out and eat dinner. Or day trips to London. There was nothing left.

He was an asshole to you. And he really hated himself for that.

You couldn’t keep on talking because the bus was really where you needed to be. You both got down the bus in silence. And just walked side by side into the Williams factory announcing yourselves at the gate.

You were thinking about his offer. Like you needed it but at the same time you were scared. But you decided to follow your heart.

“See you after the meeting then?” You said when he opened the door of the factory for you. His sad look turned into a very smiley one. He nodded.

“Yeah yeah. I’ll be waiting for you at the cafeteria. Is that okay?” He said walking behind you because you were running late for the meeting. You turned to him a little.

“Sounds good to me Fran. See you in a bit” you said in a smile but feeling really weird at the same time. You didn’t know if that chat was gonna be the end of you or the relief you just needed. You didn’t know. But you knew you couldn’t keep going the way you two were.

You disappeared from Franco's view while you ran up the stairs to the office where the meeting was being held. He just stared there for a few seconds wondering. He didn’t know if talking was the best move but he felt better after you said yes. And he realized how bad he missed hearing you call him Fran. He got into the gym. Everyone was already there so he didn’t have time to keep thinking about you. Now it was time for a great workout. And a pretty intense one.

(…)

You got out of the office 2 hours later. It was intense. You had a headache now and you needed some coffee. You were regretting deciding to meet Franco but it is what it is. Maybe could it be relaxing? You didn’t believe yourself. But you were sure you just had to give him another chance and maybe be friends.

You walked down the stairs and headed to the cafeteria. When you got there you could see Franco sitting alone at one of the tables. There wasn’t anyone. It was just you and Franco and the women at the kitchen. You smiled. You were a little bit more relaxed knowing it was kind of private. First you headed into the kitchen and asked for a coffee. You knew Franco didn’t want one because you saw him drinking mate. The woman handed the coffee politely to you and you thanked her with a sweet smile “have a good rest of the day Amelia” you told her sweetly grabbing your coffee and now walking towards franco.

He saw you and gave you a bright smile. “Hey” he said, moving his stuff so you could sit with him at the table and have space for your coffee and things. He was reading some papers that were given to him by one of the engineers back in the simulator.

You smiled looking at him. He had showered and smelled incredibly good. And he looked so gorgeous by the sunlight that was coming in from the window. “Hey did I make you wait too long?” You said sitting down and getting comfy.

“No no I got here like 30 minutes ago” he said softly and sweetly. You looked so beautiful in your formal outfit. Though he remembered being crazy about you when you wore pajamas. You looked so cute. He missed you. Like crazy.

“Oh okay. Thank you for waiting for me” you thanked him and took a sip of your coffee. And he did the same with his mate.

“So… how are you? How’s your life been?” You said to start talking and leave the uncomfortness of the situation behind and just chill out and be okay with this. Or at least you wished that but you were a bit anxious of this conversation taking place.

“Well… to be fair it just depends on which aspect of my life you ask. In my driving life everything’s been great. Better than I could ever have expected. In my personal life to be honest I’ve been miserable” he said, giggling a little at the last part of his answer. You smiled sadly looking at him.

“Well maybe we aren’t so different. I’ve been miserable too personally. And at work gray. Better than ever. But you know a guy I used to date decided to fuck my life up by just being selfish so yeah - life’s shit” you really didn’t want to go there so fast but you just couldn’t control yourself. You’re still hurt. And you needed to be vocal about it. You deserve it. You could see he got nervous and readjusted himself on his chair.

“Oh yeah I think I remember him. He was an asshole to you. Then he felt empty and guilty and lonely and got depressed. But you know he deserved it for being such an idiot. I wouldn’t have let you go if I were him. You are in fact an incredible woman with the worst sense of humor I’ve ever met. And by worst I mean best.” He said talking in third person funny. You couldn’t help but laugh a little. You looked at him nodding.

“Yeah he was a selfish asshole but we can also agree maybe that he looks gorgeous now. If he has another girl then I would be really jealous. He is really a sweetheart. And a professional clown. Very funny. He should do stand up” you followed his way of navigating all of this mess you two created. He laughed and your heart melted. You loved making him laugh. Your heart started racing and butterflies reappeared in your stomach. You felt dumb.

“Oh no he is pretty ugly in my opinion. You were too much for him but like positively. You are fucking sexy and he is just a dude” he said raising his shoulders quirky and funny. You got so flustered.

“Well maybe you're right. I’m not gonna deny I’m on top level” you said joking giggling. He smiled wildly. There you were again. The you he was madly in love with. And the he was. The guy who made you laugh until you cried. The one who made you so happy.

It would’ve been fun if he would’ve been the one. Or maybe does he still have a chance?

“Look y/n I’m really sorry. I really am. I know that saying sorry doesn’t fix anything but I would really love it if we could be friendly and try to figure this out on good terms?” He said more seriously and you nodded agreeing.

“Yeah we can try. Everyone deserves a second chance right?”you told him. You had mixed feelings about it but you knew that maybe this was the best you could do. Try to make things easier between you two will also be beneficial for your work.

“Alright” he said with the biggest smile you saw him having since you saw him again. “You want some?” He asked, offering you mate and you just nodded, smiling at him and agreeing.

Just like the old days.

——————————————————————————————

Hope you liked it 💌 if you have anymore ideas my inbox is open so send your requests!

[lokidjarin-7567]

Kinktober Day 3 - Aphrodisiacs/Sex Pollen

Billy Butcher x you Contents: pwp, fem!reader x Billy Butcher (The Boys), 18+ MDNI, there's only one bed (!!) W/C: 2.2k So I've read a lot of sex pollen fics, normally Mando ones actually, and then this idea got stuck in my head so yeah, here it is! It's a little longer but my next two are a lot shorter, so this is to make up for it. Anyway, hope someone out there is as obsessed with Billy Butcher as I am! Kinktober Masterlist | General Masterlist | AO3

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…” You could’ve shouted at the receptionist, hands balling by your sides.

“Sorry, just the one room left tonight.”

“We’ll take it.” Billy replied, shit eating grin spreading across his face.

“You can’t be serious…”

“How much do I owe you, darling?”

He ignored your complaints the whole way to the room as well, your bag slung over his shoulder. He unlocked the door, swinging it open and laughed heartily.

“What?” You pushed him aside, to see… one bed. For fucks sake.

“No getting away from me now, sweetheart…”

You’d just gotten out of the shower when you heard a deathly silence come over the room next to you. That was unlike him. He’d had the TV blasting since you’d been in the bathroom, and now it was silent. Something wasn’t right.

You wrapped your towel around yourself and peeked your head around the door. He was standing, his leather coat abandoned on the bed, head cocked as he looked towards the window. He turned his head when he heard you, pressing a finger to his lips and creeping closer. It was cracked open, a soft evening breeze causing the curtains to billow, but you couldn't hear anything else. You opened your mouth, about to ask him what was going on when a figure moved into frame.

“Fuck, cover your mouth!” Billy shouted, backing away, but it was too late. The figure raised their lips to the window, and a baby pink smoke filled the room before you could even react to it. It left you coughing, doubled over as you waited for it to clear. When it finally did, your head was hazy, as though you had literally put on rose tinted glasses and smoked a joint. It wasn’t a bad feeling, but it meant that it took longer than you normally would've to figure out what just happened.

“Cupid…” you muttered, cursing lightly under your breath and moving to close the window. She was the Supe you had been tracking for the last few days, with the ability to produce a powerful aphrodisiac that was nearly incapacitating to whoever it affected. Not exactly the best superpower, although it felt pretty fucking awful right about now. Billy had perched on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. “But why would she…”

“To distract us, to throw us off…”

“That makes no sense, we’ve already stopped for the night.”

“Didn’t you do your research, darling? It can last a full day, even two.”

“Fuck!” You were pacing now, trying to ignore the fog that was lowering over your mind. “Well, lets go after her! She can’t have gotten far.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m not in any way to drive. Plus, you’re only in a towel.” You looked down, a blush spreading across your cheeks.

“Ok… ok I guess we just have to ride it out and hope it doesn't last too long… what?” You had looked up to see him gazing at you, pupils dilated, a dark expression on his face. His eyes were tracing your body, and you hadn’t realised until that point how short the towel actually was, your legs on display for him, droplets of water from the shower still clinging to you. “Billy!”

“Fucking hell, love, I’m sorry, but we just got blasted with some kind of sex potion so you can forgive me…”

“Just… go and have a shower or something. Maybe a wank, clear your head.”

“Sure thing, boss. Wanna watch?”

“Fuck right off.”

He had been in the shower for a while now, and you were starting to struggle. When you had agreed to go with him on this Supe hunt, you never thought this was the situation you would end up in - trapped in a hotel room, only one bed, with Billy Butcher, after a maniac just filled the room with a potent aphrodisiac. And you were really starting to feel it. Every single nerve ending in your body felt like live wires, and you were so turned on it was painful, squirming on the bed as your core physically ached with lack of attention. You had managed to get changed into a t-shirt and shorts, but you still felt too warm. You were halfway through tying up your hair to try and help cool down when Billy emerged from the shower, towel around his waist. Sweet Jesus that wasn't going to help. He was ripped, his arms and chest looked almost chiseled from stone, save for the light smattering of hair over his torso, following down his stomach into a happy tail that lead under the towel. You could almost feel your mouth watering as you noticed a tent in the think fabric. He was hard, and from the way he winced when he moved, painfully so.

“Did it help at all?” You asked feebly, trying to ignore the hardening of your nipples as you watched him move.

“No.” He answered sternly, sitting down with his back to you. You couldn’t help but gaze at it. His wide shoulders, the way his shoulder blades rippled with his shuddering breaths, what it would look like when you were done with him, red welts and scratches after he fucked you into the mattress…

Nope, no. Can't go there. He's a colleague - even if only technically. Work would be unbearable.

Although, this was pretty unbearable too.

He’d said something.

“Hm?” You asked, not noticing the way he was looking at you over his shoulder until your eyes had traced his entire back. You blushed.

“I need to change…”

“Oh shit, sorry.” You headed to the bathroom quickly, closing the door behind you and collapsing to the floor. Fuck this was a mess. A horrible, terrible mess. Maybe it would help if you just… just a little bit…

Your hand found its way below your waistband, and as soon as your fingertips brushed over the sensitive bundle of nerves there, your entire body relaxed, an audible moan escaping your mouth. Shit. Hopefully he didn't hear that. You carried on quietly, biting your lip to try and stay quiet, but it was hard, the relief flowing through you unlike anything you’d ever experienced. And then you heard something from the other room. A soft grunt, and then another. And fucking hell it was a beautiful noise, almost pained but so relieved, perfectly echoing how you felt at that moment. God, he was awful and frustrating and horrible to work with but his voice was so sexy, and the noises he was making now were no different.

You couldn't deny it was helping you along, and you couldn't tell if you were imagining it or not, but every time a whimper escaped you, he groaned just a little louder. You reached your peak quickly, your entire body crumpling as it overtook you, a last moan falling from your lips as you caught your breath on the bathroom floor. You stood up to wash your hands and face, legs shaking, only to realise… it had barely done anything. The ache was back almost instantly, nipples hardening again at the thought of Billy in the next room, and you cursed into the icy cold water.

He had been quiet for a little while now, so you knocked cautiously.

“Yeah, I’m decent, doll.” The new pet name sent another wave of arousal to your centre, and you cursed internally with it. Every word he said feel like he was physically touching you, but not quite enough. It was driving you insane.

“How the fuck do we make this stop?” You gasped out, frustration clouding your mind as you flopped onto the end of the bed, laying down with your hands over your eyes. Maybe if you just didn't look at him…

“Well, I can think of one way…”

“Billy…” you muttered warningly, but you couldn't bring yourself to say more than that, just letting your hands drop from your face to see his dark expression looking you up and down.

“Do you really wanna stay like this for the next day…”

“We might still be like this… after.”

“We don't know until we try.” Fuck, you hated how much sense he was making in your sex-addled brain. “You can't say you haven't thought about it…” You opened your mouth to snap back that you hadn’t, that he repulsed you… but you couldn't get the words out. The truth was, you had thought about it. A lot. He might be a pain in your ass, but he was undeniably attractive. The smirk. The confidence. Those stupid fucking Hawaiian shirts that showed off his biceps in just the right way…

“Please I… look, it's killing me here love…” he sounded breathy, strained. Needy. Hearing him beg was almost enough to send you over the edge.

Fuck it.

You sat up before you had a chance to change your mind, grabbing him by the neck and pulling his lips to yours. He practically growled into your mouth, reciprocating with a ferocity you hadn't expected. His hands were instantly all over you, grabbing your hips and pulling you onto his lap, his strength making you gasp sharply. His teeth found your bottom lips, biting and pulling as he forced your hips down into his, grinding into you in a way that felt so fucking perfect. You needed him closer. Your shaking hands reached for the hem of his tee, pulling it over his head and pushing him to the bed, lips marking a path down his chest.

“Fucking hell, love, get those clothes off.” You obliged quickly, standing to rip off your tee, then shorts and panties as he removed his own bottoms, letting his cock spring free. He was big. Really fucking big. You needed him inside you now. Needed…

He was a step ahead of you, grabbing your arm and pulling you face first to the bed. He set himself up behind you, pulling your hips into the air and his hand found its way to your hair, pressing your face into the mattress. And then you felt two fingers dip inside your wet core. The sound that you made was filthy and animalistic, pressing your hips back into his hand as he chuckled, desperate for more of him.

“God you’re needy like this aren't you?” He pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you whining, and you heard him pump his length a few times with your slick. And then he was there, his size pressing against you, and you had no time to adjust as he rolled his hips into you. You couldn't breathe as he split you open, full to the hilt, hands scrabbling across the bedspread trying to find purchase on something.

“Fucking hell…” he grumbling, hand smacking your ass hard. You yelped, and he laughed again. “I can feel your pretty cunt fluttering around me when I do that.”

“Fuck… you…” You managed to choke out between laboured breaths.

“As you wish, doll.” He started to drag himself out of you, so painfully slowly you were squirming, but he just pressed your face further into the bed. And then he started to just fuck into you. It was debilitating, every single nerve in your body on fire. His pace was merciless, hard and fast and blinding, hitting a spot inside of you that turned your body to jelly. His hand on your hip was the only thing keeping you upright, squeezing in a way that was sure to bruise. And then his hand left your head, and you gasped in air, only to realise it was snaking around to your clit. The instant his fingertips found your sensitive mound, your world went black, and you were coming hard around his cock.

“Fuckk, there we go, sweetheart. Good girl, let it all out...”

By the time you could see again, it didn't take you long to start winding up for another orgasm. Your body had completely crumpled, pressed to the bed apart from the arm he had around your hips, keeping him in the perfect position to keep hitting that sweet spot with every thrust.

“Goddd, Billy…” you cried out, sound after filthy sound filling the room as he continued to rut into you, his breaths becoming shorter and his curses becoming less coherent. “Please.. that's it… inside me please…” Your fucked-out babbling seemed to help bring him to the edge, and he pressed his hips into yours as he came, his teeth clamping onto your shoulder enough to help you reach another pinnacle.

You could barely breathe when you were done, his entire body weight pressed to your back, his lips pressing sloppy kisses to the back of your neck. He was still inside you, and it wasn’t until you tried to move that you noticed…

“Billy?”

“Yes, love?”

“You’re still hard.” There was a beat where he stopped kissing you shifting his hips just slightly with a groan, then he sighed.

“I guess its gonna be a long night, doll.”

[iwritebigbellies-blog]

The party was great. You were in your element, gregarious and happy, drinking like a fish, laughing with all our friends, helping to bbq and serve. We got there early and left late, and in between you ate so much that you were practically a sphere, belly so full it had lift, and your shirt couldn't cover it.

Not that you noticed. You were so drunk and happy that nothing crossed your mind but your most basic desires: more laughter, more beer, more food, more.

"Come on," I laughed, trying to wrangle you to the door. You got distracted by the host's cat, finally making an appearance. "You've turned into a pumpkin, Cinderella."

"Just let me finish my beer," you said, looking around for it. It was long gone, but I rolled my eyes and found you another. "Chips?" you ask, sitting on the stairs, patting the cat, giving me your best puppy-dog eyes.

"Absolutely not," I said incredulously. "Look at you, babe. You are going to literally explode if you eat one more bite." I bent over to poke you in the belly, which had no give at all. You looked at yourself like you just noticed, and gave it a pat.

"Maybe I overdid it a little," you muttered. "But I--" Then you were interrupted by an enormous belch and I couldn't help laugh again as you flushed red and blew out a slow breath. "I just really like chips."

"Come on, tubby," I said, reaching out with both hands. You took them and struggled to a stand, and it was a serious struggle. You outweigh me by almost three times, these days. Tonight, it was even more. You finally stumbled forward, laughing, and bumped into me, taking me in both arms for support.

"Sorry," you murmured into my ear. "I've had--" You hiccuped again. "--a lot."

Your huge, tight gut pressed heavy into me, leaving nothing to the imagination. I cupped the exposed bottom of your belly and almost buckled at the knees. You were so big, fatter and tighter than ever, weaving unsteadily on your feet, breathing heavy. I wanted to pull you closer, back to the wall, and ram my tongue down your throat. But this was not the place.

"Understatement of the year," I muttered back, trying to make light. "You've eaten yourself into the next size category. Where would you even put chips if I found you some?"

You responded by relaxing. Leaning into me, your belly expanded, hanging ponderously into my hands. "Here," you said.

I was going to lose my mind. When I stood straight, you did too, leaning back with a moan. You put your hands on the small of your back, arched, then placed them on the sides of your belly again when your shirt didn't come down to cover it.

"Let's go," I said gently, taking a belt loop and tugging you towards the door.

"Home?" you said, a little disappointed. I led you out to the street first, ordering a cab.

"Absolutely not," I replied, meeting your eyes. "We're going out for dessert." Your eyes widened, and you rubbed the sides of your belly absently, pressing and testing. "Wouldn't you prefer some ice cream?"

"Yes," you said instantly, without thinking. It had been a while, since you'd been thinking. Even as your eyes lit up at the prospect of that sundae, scoops of ice cream on brownies and fudge, whipped cream and crumbled cookies and a milkshake on the side; you were short of breath, widening your stance to accomodate how bloated you'd gotten over the evening. You didn't notice, but I did.

Later, when you were slouched in your seat, moaning in happiness, or pain, or happiness, your belly bare and bumping the table, your pants unbuttoned and tugged open as wide as they would go, you finally caught up.

"I..I think I'm done," you said, panting, understatement of the year. "Can I just sleep here? I don't think I am going to walk ever again. Oh my god. I am so full, baby. Look at me. I'm so full. I'm so--urp--oh my god. I'm not going to fit out the door."

I walked behind your chair and hugged you, reaching my hands over your shoulders to gingerly rub a stomach that was so distended, it shone. "Take it slow, my love. We'll get you there."

We levered you out of the seat and started the long, slow waddle to the door, you moaning and carrying on about how much you'd overdone it, still too drunk for any dignity. As we passed the front cash, I paused.

"Two more milkshakes, to go." It wasn't clear who was more stunned, the waiter or you. "And have you got chips? A bag." He filled the order, and you whimpered.

I handed them to you after we climbed for the next cab. You tore them open mechanically, and closed your eyes in bliss when the first hit your tongue. "Thank you," you said.

I snuggled close and started rubbing your huge belly, sliding my hands under your shirt. You closed your eyes and leaned into it, moaning again. "Anything your heart desires," I said. "Just keep eating."

[guppybibi]

Late WIP Wednesday ..

(aaa km not sure if i should finish this, it started off strong but just fell off and now my brain isnt working)

Simon’s home & marriage was his refuge, until it wasn't. He knew something wasn't right when you were coincidentally prepared for his return, all dolled up when you greeted him with an “I miss you” kiss. No, he was sure it wasn't you when he saw that the dinner table was prepared with a generous spread of food on it.

There was no reason for you to come this prepared, everytime he comes home from deployment is a surprise. So..how exactly are you this ready? It didn't sit right with him, the whole thing felt like it came out of a painfully obvious scripted reality TV show.

But food was food and after countless weeks spent eating barely edible MRE’s, a home cooked meal was all he needed. Sluggishly, he sat down at his unsaid designated spot at the dinner table. He closely watched if you would sit down at your designated spot, if you didn't; that’d explained a lot. You do end up sitting at your spot, it wasn't all that hard to do though. Dinner with you was unsettling to say the least, all of the small talk you were making felt forced, it’s barely been an hour and he already feels like he's going crazy.

He knows more than to question you upfront though, having gone through enough interrogations to know that he should take his time and that you could get hostile if things don't go your way. You could be a threat for all he knew, and it's better to be safe than sorry. Unsure if it was the right decision, he starts out some sort of small talk himself, asking you some seemingly innocent questions.

“What were yer up to while I was gone, luv?” He asks mid chew. “Oh not much, I just picked up a new hobby actually. Clay sculpting! I've been watching online tutorials, I could say I’ve been getting the hang of it if I do say so myself.” Liar, was all he could think while he subconsciously nodded to your words. You hated clay, not fond of the texture it had and the way it’d get stuck under your nails. Perhaps it was another one of your impulsive decisions, jumping into conclusions should be the last thing he should be doing. It could cost him more harm than good, so he lets it slide. For now at least.

“Sculpting eh? That's new, have ye finished any?” He pauses, swallowing his food. “I’d love to see them.” A spark lights up in your eyes, but it didn't look right. There's a lit candle in there but it's far, far away. The lack of life in your eyes makes his stomach spin like there's a guinea pig rolling around in their wheel in there, it made him want to puke. He wasn't the biggest fan of prolonged eye contact anyway, so he’ll just avoid looking you in the eye to prevent making a mess. “Oh yeah I actually do! They're already displayed on top of our shelves, I’ll show them to you after.” You exclaim, if that was you anyway, which it wasn't.

Dinner passed at an uncomfortably slow pace, Simon swore he could hear each individual tick and tock of the clock, the scraping of utensils against the porcelain plates and each chew you took. He’s gone through debatably louder things than this, the booms of the explosions were unforgettable after all but this somehow takes the cake. Wanting to distract himself further, he helps with washing the dishes which you normally did but you specifically chose today to help do the other minor chores. Water, that was your weak point. He noticed it, you didn't drink water after dinner either. What kind of monster doesn't drink water to hydrate after eating roasted pork?

To test out this thought of his, he decided to ask another question. “I'm heading to the shower, luv. Care to join me?” Meekly, he suggests to you, deep brown eyes staring intently as he awaited the already expected answer. “Oh I..actually already showered earlier dear. Maybe next time.” A dishearteningly dismissive reply, just like he expected. “Alright, suit yourself luv. I'll be back.”

He thought about it, almost forgetting about the bubbly soap running down his body from how deep in thought he was. There was no doubt about it anymore, everything about you being you, pointed away. At this point, he didn't care what the fake you was anymore, rather where you actually were. You could've been dead for all he knew, replaced by the soulless woman that now roams around his home.

This was beyond cruel, beyond the pain physical torture could've caused. It was like the universe was a cat and he was a yarn ball, being played by it meticulously. The whole thing was definitely planned out by a certain someone he knew, the both of you are fairly private so it couldn't have been a random person. He couldn't handle this alone, as much as he’d hate to admit, the situation was way bigger than him to do alone. So, he decides to call a trusted someone.

“You tellin’ me ye think your wife got abducted or something..and a doppelgänger replaced her?” A gruff voice questions, lightly tapping his cigar against the side of the ashtray. Price, him and Kate are the only members of the Task Force so far that Simon allowed you to meet. Well, it unfortunately looks like the sergeants won't get to meet you under these circumstances just yet. Strangely enough, the clocks inside the pub weren't working. Must be a malfunction. The masked man nodded, sighing through his nose when he got a whiff of the alcohol-filled air in the bar.

“I feel so.” He grumbled. “Couldn't she be just having an off day? We all have those, Simon.” John opposes it, it was an unquestionable possibility they couldn't simply ignore. “No, I know my wife. In my years of being with her, she's never acted this way.” Ghost hissed back, a hint of crystal clear impatience seeping out from his words. The lack of respect in his tone wasn't intended, but what could he do when his wife is apparently kidnapped and replaced so seamlessly? “I guess you have a point, but you need to confirm it Simon. You shouldn't make any decision on impulse, if the woman in your home really isn't your wife then this is a bigger issue.”

Then the plan was set, still a little all over the place but there really wasn't any time to lose. Simon would further observe the woman who's allegedly ‘you’ to make sure he isn't making things up, then if he was incredibly sure it wasn't you, he’ll head to the police and file a report for a missing person. In all honesty, it wasn't hard to do, having gone through missions more intense than this. Yet the fact that you were involved made the bugs inside of him crawl, this was totally his fault.

He didn't hide you away from the world enough, he should've just kept you locked inside a cage like the little birdie you were to avoid any danger coming your way. Simon wasn't stupid though, that was inhumane, you were one of the only few people who has managed to make Simon feel less of a ghost and more of a human. So doing such a thing to you was unethical and out of the books, but how could you blame him for subconsciously letting his possessiveness and worry take over when you're literally so far from his grasp? Being so near before that he could easily grip at the back of your top, now so far that the trace of your scent is long gone.

It makes Simon feel sick, his core being left to rot. He comes from the pub to what felt like an empty house, not home because nothing would feel like home without you there. He’d rather be living in a pile of rocks and plywood with you than in a giant mansion without you, that would be the real hell. “Bloody hell..where are you?” He murmurs under his breath, stressedly rubbing his creased forehead. If he could, he’d pry at every surface that comes up within his sight just to find you.

“I’m back.” He whispers, unsure if the fake you was asleep or not. Anyone, human or not wouldn't be happy being woken up from their slumber. “Welcome home, hun. You alright?” Looking up from your cup of tea, you ask. “Yeah, just spoke with the Captain. That's all, no alcohol.” Simon was so used to you being a worrywart about his alcohol intake, telling you that he didn't have any alcohol is practically ingrained into the wrinkles of his brain. But the woman in front of him didn't seem to care less about his health, let alone him in general. The lack of nagging that usually filled his ears to the brim didn't feel right, he would've much rather gone through another one of your yap sessions about how constant alcohol intake affects him in the long run than..just silence.

He feels the desperation inching up on him, eating him whole. At this point, he's willing to admit he doesn't want you. He needs you. He needs to hear your fretful complaints about him getting deployed, knowing you’d shut up because you were used to it by now. He needs you to tell him to include more vegetables in his diet because he's not some kind of carnivore to be eating that much meat. God, he just needs you with him. Whatever bloody thing came with you he’d take like it was on a stupid Black Friday sale.

“Not yet..” He’d think every single night, eyes wide open as he prevents himself from making a rash decision. The woman sleeping soundly right next to him, if that was you..But it wasn't, even if he stared at the unfamiliar woman for ten hours straight, she wouldn't just magically turn into you. Well sure, she was a carbon copy of you from head to toe but she simply just didn't scream ‘you’. Whatever and whoever you were anyway.

“When all is said and done, I think it'll end well Simon. My gut feeling tells me so, it's rarely ever wrong so I’m pretty sure we should trust it.” You ramble on and on, the little amount of alcohol taking over your lightweight self. Simon was still courting you here, yet he remembers it like it's been replayed in his mind like a broken record. He trusted your gut, and he could consider that as one of the best choices he's ever made in life.

But..trusting you now? While you're probably out, all shivering & teeth clattering from the immense cold night? Impossible, he’s fully aware that you're a capable strong woman however..how far can his trust go? How far do you have to venture into someone’s soul to gain their fragile trust, something that can be easily broken with your own bare hands? Ghost doesn't trust you, but Simon does.

“You're a strong gal, you can hold on for much longer.” He supposes, deep in thought while he flipped around in bed. The fake you hasn't set off any red flags yet, acting normal. Too normal. He knew ‘you’ had a purpose for being here, one with malicious intent, though what exactly? One wouldn't simply come in here and replace his wife with a fake one just out of spite, unless they were a little cuckoo. Tossing aside to check the time, he presses the ‘on’ button on his phone. Weird, the time didn't show up. Maybe it's just a glitch in the system.

“Simon, Hey? Simon, wake up. Hurry, you need to get up.” A voice shakes, lightly nudging him in order to awake him. It's your voice, he can instantly sense its meekness. With one eye and another, they flutter open, still full of sleep in them. “Oh thank goodness, you're awake! But you seriously need to wake up, like right now.” You crooned, hoping he’d fully wake up to the sound of your voice. Groaning, Simon sat up, a few joints popping in the process. “What..? Yeah, I’m awake luv. Whad’ya need me for?” He questions groggily, eyes opening further once he gets a closer look at you. It's actually you, he can tell! The way your eyes meet his, connecting like a bee landing on a precious flower. The way your voice lilted to him like a mother bird nursing her hatchlings, it really was you.

“Wait–luv? You're here? Bloody hell, you actually are–Did you see the other gal who looked just like you? Tell me I’m not losing my shit please.” Then you shushed him, convinced he’ll continuously go on and on if you didn't. “Please listen to me closely, Simon.” You pause, noticing how his eyes bask in yours like it was long overdue. “You need to wake up, hurry.”

[melrodrigo]

Tardy - T.C.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None??

Summary: You come late to a class one day, and an unexpected friendship, (and maybe more) blossoms.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Woo! This was a long one to write, and i'm not sure if i added enough fluff in there, but if you guys want a part two, i'm happy to write more :)

You had been pining over this girl for six months. At first it was all fun and games, just some motivation to get up and into class each morning. But soon with every nice gesture and soft smile she sent your way, it turned into something more.

Tara Carpenter.

She was the prettiest girl you've ever laid your eyes on, with wide doe eyes and freckles littered everywhere across her face. You'd noticed her one particular day when you had realized you overslept, rushed into class, in nothing but your jamies and an oversize hoodie.

When you opened the doors, a little loud, okay maybe a lot loud, everyone's heads snapped to you. You stilled, acutely aware of everyone’s eyes on you.

A small giggle sounded through the room, and you locked eyes with a short-looking brunette.

Feeling embarrassed enough to last a lifetime, you quickly hurried over and sat next to the girl, a blush rising up your neck at everyone still staring.

"As I was saying..." The professor began, to which most people took their eyes off you and focused back on the lesson. You breathed out a sigh.

"That was quite an entrance, if I do say so myself." A voice sounded beside you.

When you turned your head to look at her, the comeback you had so cleverly thought up died in your throat.

"I- um, hi! Yeah, it was a crazy day, see- I just went to a party last night and I might've gotten crazy drunk and then forgot to set my alarm and woke up and realized we had a test today, so I really wasn't thinking about my outfit, but-" You stopped when you realized you'd been rambling, the blush rising to the tip of your ears now, though for a totally different reason.

The girl cocked an eyebrow up and gave a tiny smirk.

"Sorry, my name's YN. I'm not usually this stupid." You offered her a handshake, head turned down in embarrassment.

"A handshake?" She asked a little teasingly, but took your hand nevertheless.

Deciding you'd already embarrassed yourself enough for one day, you turned back to the teacher, determined not to act stupid in front of this pretty girl.

"Tara." She mumbled after a while, but loud enough for you to hear.

"I'm sorry?"

She turned to you and tilted her head a bit, like staring hard enough would allow her to read your mind.

"My name's Tara." She said, giving you another soft smile.

You felt your lips start to tug upwards at the ends, and a giddy feeling, like butterflies entered your stomach.

"Pleased to meet you, Tara."

_

The both of you never talked about the routine you got into, but ever since that first day, when you walked into class and scanned the room, you would always look for Tara first.

She would always leave a seat beside her for you, death glaring anyone that tried to sit in it.

It was a comfortable situation, and you were content in being in her company, even though it was only for a few hours.

You’d bring her and yourself some coffee, quickly remembering what her go-to order was.

Sometimes you guys would study together in the library, throwing flirty comments and looking at each other longer than friends should.

You couldn’t help but get distracted sometimes in class, what with such a gorgeous girl next to you, how could you not?

Unbeknownst to you, Tara would also sneak some peeks in, but she was a lot more discreet about it. You never caught her staring once.

-

But on one random Tuesday morning, she wasn't there. It was weird of Tara to not be there before you, since you were always late, but you shrugged it off and figured she might've gotten lost on the way to class. She would never miss a class in her life. You brushed the nagging feeling in your chest away.

Halfway through the lesson, the nagging feeling turned into outright worry. Tara would never miss a class without an important reason, and if she did, she would have at least texted you about it. The two of you had grown pretty close in the last semester.

y/n: Hey, are you okay?

She never answered.

As soon as the class ended, you sprinted outside and started running.

Finding the way to Tara's apartment was a bit challenging, seeing as though you'd never been there before. But Tara had given the address to you once, during a frat party you attended together.

You swayed on the heels of your feet anxiously, hoping Tara was home and not out somewhere dangerous. You had heard news of a new killer around, though you didn't pay it much attention. You certainly didn't want Tara to be one of his victims though.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

A girl you'd never seen before opens the door, expression clearly annoyed. She looked a bit like Tara, but her demeanor was all dark and gloomy, completely unlike Tara.

"Um...is Tara home?" You mumbled, starting to feel small under her intense gaze.

"And who the hell are you? " She asked, eyebrows furrowed, arms crossed in front of her chest.

"YN?" Came a voice from inside, and you immediately recognized it as Tara's.

The girl at the door was pushed aside gently, and you looked down to see Tara, a curious expression painting her face.

"Ohmygod i'm so glad your okay. I was so worried I thought that psycho killer might've gotten you." You mumbled as you pulled her in for a tight embrace, her face nuzzling in the side of your neck. A small giggle erupted from the girl, and she held you a little tighter.

You stayed like that for a while, until someone loudly cleared their throat beside you.

You pulled away quickly, forgetting that there were other people present, and straightened up, raising your hand to the girl who greeted you at the door.

“Sam? Is everything okay?” Came a male voice from inside the apartment.

“Yeah, we’re good Chad!” She shouted back, still eyeing you like you were scum on earth.

You took a breath and stepped forward, raising your hand and meeting her eye.

"Hi. I'm YN." She eyed your hand, arms still crossed and very much still looking furious.

"A handshake?" She shot Tara a look, expressing something like a "really? this is the one you pick?"

"Yeah i'm sorry if i'm intruding, I just wanted to make sure Tara was okay since she didn't come to class today." You explained.

The older girl was fast to snap back, "You are, and you've seen her, so you should leave now."

"Sam!" Tara exclaimed, taking a hold of your wrist to prevent you from leaving.

"It's okay Tara, I don't mind. As long as I know you’re okay, then I’m good." You whispered, making sure she looked you in the eye to express how serious you were.

Her eyes softened a little, before turning to Sam and speaking slowly.

"He must've saw her come up. We can't let her go. She might get attacked."

You furrowed your eyebrows, starting to get confused about what they were talking about.

Sam must've saw the look in Tara's eyes, because she rebuffed her immediately, glaring at you as she said, "Absolutely not. I know nothing about her, you know nothing about her. For all we know, she's the killer!"

At that you step in.

"Woah, woah woah. I just gotta defend myself here and say I don't know what you're talking about right now, but I am most definitely not a killer." You winked at the older girl, trying to keep the mood light.

Oh shit. That sounds exactly like something a killer would say.

"I mean-! I'm just Tara's friend, I wanted to make sure she was okay. She never misses class so I came to check on her." You hurried out, seeing the look of suspicion growing on Sam's face.

"Please, Sam. How many innocent people are you gonna let die? And if she is the killer, then we'll have her right here with us! We'll keep an eye on her." Tara pleaded, though her tone was more pressed than anything.

Sam let out a scoff, and walked away, further into their apartment.

You’re left standing in the hallway corridor, not really sure what just happened.

"I guess that's a yes." Tara sing-songed and smiled at you, pulling you in and closing the door and giving you a peck on the cheek.

Your eyes widened and you tried your best not to gulp, but by the way Tara's smile turned even bigger, you know you failed.

"Come on, let's go meet the others." She tugged on your wrist, which she was still keeping a death grip on. Effectively dragging you forward to the living room.

You snap out of your daze and start to follow her, but not before asking a question you should’ve asked about five minutes before.

"What's this about me being a killer again?"

[hard-core-super-star]

could you write kate missing reader's birthday party ?? pls and thank u

-💜

i bet it stung [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x reader

summary: kate tries her best to be there for everyone but sometimes, she messes up.

warnings: angst with happy ending; mutual pining, friends to lovers; kate's a mess but she's trying her best; allusions to sex + mentions of hickeys; NOT proofread

wordcount: 1.7k

a/n: HEY GUYS! i've been spending most of my time working on polishing vampire!kate and trying to figure out an upload schedule for new chapters BUT i suddenly got hit with inspiration to tackle this request and now it's here. i actually really liked how this turned out, sorry to the anon who requested this because it took me a RIDICULOUS amount of time to write it 😅 as always, thanks for the love, support, and patience. hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

You didn't want to think the worst of your best friend.

You wanted to be kind and patient and understanding and not give her the silent treatment like she deserved. But what else were you supposed to do after she broke yet another promise to you?

Maybe it was stupid, maybe you were being overdramatic, or maybe you had a damn good reason for feeling so disappointed.

It wasn't the biggest deal in the world, you knew that, but that didn't stop you from wanting to shut down and hide in your room. You couldn't do that, though, since you were still in the middle of your living room, celebrating your birthday.

Well, celebrating is putting it nicely.

It's more like you're sitting on your couch, surrounded by people who know and love you, and trying to act like your heart isn't sinking down into your stomach and making it churn with something akin to anxiety. What's bothering you isn't anxiety, though.

It's the fact that Kate looked you right in the eye and promised she would be there before the end of the night. Your birthday wasn't exactly the best day for the archer to go off on a complicated mission but it wasn't like she had a choice.

At least, that's what she had said before running out the door with that breathtaking smile on her face.

You had believed her at that moment but then night came and Yelena showed up at your apartment with a bottle of unlabeled vodka in her hand and no awkward archer at her side. It would have been fine if the blonde hadn't mentioned she had no idea where Kate was even though she had told you Yelena had assigned the mission to her.

You didn't want to make a scene, though, you were supposed to be enjoying your day and getting slightly too drunk with your friends while eating ridiculously expensive cake.

Your change in mood didn't go unnoticed by the Russian or the rest of your friends.

"She'll be here," Peter says, offering you a small smile. "She's just a little late."

"Yeah!" Kamala joins in, giving your knee a reassuring squeeze. "When has Kate not been late to something, right?"

Yelena opens her mouth to answer but the glare you send her way makes her rethink her words. "She is…awful at time management."

You snort, lifting up your cup. "Cheers to that."

Your friends join in and you down the rest of your drink, thankful that the bitter taste of the alcohol distracts you from your bitter feelings.

The rest of the night looks the same with drinking and crappy jokes and far too many slices of cake. Your friends leave a few hours later and it's not until you turn the music off and silence engulfs you that you remember your disappointment.

More than that, it suddenly dawns on you that you're alone.

That Kate still isn't back.

It hurts more than it should.

You know she didn't lie but she still chose not to tell you she wouldn't make it. She promised she'd show up and she didn't.

You're in the middle of cleaning up the kitchen, doing your best to hold back your tears because you are not going to cry on your birthday, when you hear the sound of the front door opening.

It takes a lot of self-restraint to stay instead of running away like you want to. You already know you'll end up forgiving her for missing your party, no matter how stupid the reasoning she gives you is.

"y/n."

The simple sound of her voice is almost enough to get you to break. You're determined not to break down this time, though, and certainly not in front of her.

You take a deep breath before turning around to face her. Your eyes instantly fall on the badly wrapped present and the almost crumpled bouquet of flowers in her hands. Any other day, you would have found it cute.

It's hard to break your habit despite how upset you are and you find yourself scanning her for any clear or severe injuries.

It doesn't take you long to notice the marks on her neck. You assume they're bruises, that her messy hair and disheveled appearance are part of whatever trouble she ended up getting herself in tonight.

But then you look closer.

And suddenly the room feels far too small, the air too thick to let you breathe.

Kate instantly takes notice of what's stolen your attention, placing the flowers down before her free hand comes up to nervously rub at her neck. You're not a genius but you know all her tells by heart.

"You didn't," you say, your voice barely above a whisper but brimming with danger.\

"It's not- I didn't-" She cuts herself off with a sigh.

You know exactly what that means. She doesn't even have an excuse. No stupid explanation to make you feel better. If anything, that makes her guiltier.

Of what? You're not too sure. You just know your best friend was out getting laid when she was supposed to be here with you.

Your unspoken feelings for her only make her betrayal worse.

"You're fucking unbelievable, Kate."

You see a flash of hurt stain her usually bright eyes but you don't care. You can't. Because all of you've done since you met her is care and it's gotten you nothing but heartache.

"y/n."

The soft tone she uses tugs at your heartstrings and yet you force yourself to keep going. To walk away and put enough space between the two of you so you don't have to keep staring the truth right in the face.

Kate doesn't love you. Not the way you want her to. And even though you love her, you can't keep letting yourself get hurt like this.

Not anymore.

So, you walk away.

Unfortunately, you still live together which makes your plan to ignore her for at least a few days practically impossible. Maybe it's immature but the only thing you can do is stay in your room and avoid interacting with her as much as possible.

Avoiding her does little to soothe your hurt feelings, though, and hearing her pace outside your locked door like a scolded puppy makes things even harder. All you can do is remind yourself you already know what her excuses will be anyway so what's the point of letting her in just to be hurt again?

It's a good plan but it doesn't take into account how…persistent Kate can be.

You assume she'll end up doing something to catch your attention but you never once think she'll climb the fire escape and knock on your window.

That's exactly what she does, though, which leaves you pretty much unable to ignore her.

You think about it for a second but then your eyes meet hers and you get up before you can stop yourself.

It's stupid, you know that, but that knowledge doesn't stop you from opening your window. You don't let her in even though it's ridiculous to make her stay outside.

"Do you need something?" You ask.

"Yeah, to talk to you," she replies, her eyes nervously searching your face. "I need to apologize."

"You don't have to, you-"

"Yes, I do and you have to let me in." She seems just as surprised as you are by her words.

You momentarily think about shutting her out and yet somehow, for whatever stupid reason, you don't. You take a step back and allow her to climb in through your window like all those times before. At least this time she's not bleeding.

An awkward silence settles over both of you as she stands in the middle of your room. You regret not cleaning up a little before making your way to the window since now she's subjected to all your haphazardly thrown tissues and incredibly messy bed.

"What now?" You question, already fidgeting with your fingers while you wait for her to talk.

"Now…I tell you how sorry I am and how big of an idiot I am."

"Kate, we've been friends for years, I already know you're an idiot," you say with an eyeroll that holds way too much affection.

"True," she says with a chuckle. "No, I um…I really messed up but not in the way you think. I did miss your party but I…I didn't hook up with anyone. Not really, I-"

"You really don't have to explain this to me." You rush out, not at all wanting to hear those kinds of details from her.

"Yes, I do." She takes a step toward you and it takes all your restraint to not step away from her. "I don't want you to think I went out and slept with someone else on your birthday-"

"Kate," you try again. "You're an adult, you can do whatever you want."

"I want to do that with you!"

There's an edge of desperation to her voice that makes you pause. More than anything, her words confuse you.

"What are you talking about?"

A groan escapes her lips and before you know it, she's getting rid of the space between you and gently taking your face in her hands. She tilts your head until you're looking right at her and your breath gets caught in your throat from the proximity.

"I. Want. To. Be. With. You." Kate whispers every word into the small space between your lips. "I did get caught up on a stupid mission but I didn't sleep with anyone else. I just had to get creative and I took a page out of Natasha's book. I didn't think I'd end up with a massive hickey, though."

It's absolutely ridiculous.

It honestly borders on stupid.

So much so that you laugh.

You laugh until the weight you've been carrying for who knows how long falls off your shoulders.

Until finally, finally, you're able to lean in and kiss the girl of your dreams.

Kate may be an idiot who always gets herself in the worst kinds of troubles but…she's your idiot.

Finally.

[peterman-spideyparker]

Labels (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hi! So, I've kinda put myself on a writing hiatus for a while and, in turn, have limited my time on Tumblr as of late. I was/still kind of am feeling uninspired in terms of writing and ideas, but this one came easily, and it needed to be written and shared before the excitement left me. I still have a million other stories and ideas I want to get going on, but for now, I hope you enjoy this one. :)

Summary: One evening when Matt tries to surprise you with a home cooked dinner date, he's stunned by something you've done for him.

Warnings: Sweet adorable fluff. No use of (Y/N), but it does refer to the reader being feminine/female-identifying

Other Characters: Karen Page

Word Count: 1,158

“Hello?” you say over the phone, very clearly distracted by whatever is in front of you.

“Hi, angel,” Matt smiles, feeling a weight off of his shoulders when he finally hears your voice when you pick up your desk phone.

“Matt.” The way you say his name lights him up inside. It’s alway so warm, so inviting, so smooth—like when butter spreads perfectly even on a piece of toast. The gentleness of each consonant and vowel that escapes your lips never fails to chip away and brush off the stress of whatever is weighing him down; from his day job to his nightly activities, you—every last bit of you, is his solace.

“I was half afraid that I’d get your answering machine,” he breathes as he leans back in his chair, listening to how you move the receiver from one ear to the other.

“I’m sorry, Matt. Today has just been hectic. Meetings, email approvals, we rearranged some furniture because no one was responding to emails—.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize.”

“I do if it means I worried you. I mean, I must have missed calls and texts on my cell from you if you resorted to my landline.”

“No, not worried. I was just curious if you wanted to go out to dinner tonight. Maybe try that new Italian place that opened up a few blocks from your apartment.”

“I didn’t know there was a new restaurant opening.”

“Yeah,” he lies. “It’s a small place. Intimate, nice.”

“Well, I don’t know how I could say no to that. It sounds like the perfect thing to make me forget today.”

“Take deep breaths, sweetheart. You’ll get through it. I’m here for you.”

“I know,” you breathe. “Listen, I need to get back to work, but I’ll see you tonight.”

“I’ll pick you up at six.”

“Perfect. I love you, Matt.”

“Love you, too.”

You exchange soft goodbyes before hanging up the phone, Matt sliding his cell back into the pocket of his slacks.

“Hey, Karen?” he calls out.

“Yeah?” she responds, sounding as if she’s lost in thought with whatever is at hand.

“What time is it?”

She pauses. “Almost 2:30.”

“You think that you and Foggy will be okay for the rest of the day?”

“I think so.”

“Great,” he says with a smile, standing up and putting on the suit jacket that was hanging on the back of his chair. “I’m heading out. I need to get some groceries to surprise my girlfriend.”

Matt undoes the last of your door’s locks as the bag of groceries rests on his hips, relieved when the heavy piece of wood starts to swing open. For as frustrating as your day was, Matt secretly hopes that you won’t come home early and catch him in the middle of his surprise; it took him a lot longer to get everything he needed at the store, throwing off his timing. He’d be lucky if he got everything plated by the time you got home. Matt lets out a deep breath as he places the bag of groceries on the counter and takes his glasses off, centering himself to focus on the plan and not let his race against the clock shake him too much. After hanging his jacket on the hooks by the door, he rolls up his sleeves and throws his tie over his shoulder before taking out his phone, tapping at the screen until he finds the recipe he saved for tonight.

As his phone reads off the list of ingredients, he feels over what he grabbed, cursing when he notices that he’s missing garlic powder.

“She has to have some,” he hums. He knows you like to cook, always eager to try new recipes that you find while scrolling on your phone, and therefore always getting new spices and ingredients to make sure your kitchen is stocked for whatever the next interesting dish brings. Lucky for Matt, you two are always over each other’s place, craving one another’s presence, so he knows your apartment almost as well as he knows his own. Turning around to the skinny cabinet where Matt knows you keep your spices, he opens it up and prepares his nose for the strong mix of smells that are about to hit him so he can sniff out what he needs. As his hand extends into the cabinet, what he doesn’t expect to find is small bumps over each and every label. It’s odd, but familiar. Grabbing one of the spices in the front, he carefully takes it off the shelf and runs his fingers over the bumps once more.

Nutmeg.

Matt lets out a shaky breath, tears stinging at his eyes. He reaches up for container after container, running his fingers over all of the labels, finding that he’s able to read them all. By the time Matt grabs the garlic powder, the cabinet is practically empty and he’s crying in the kitchen.

“Matt?” he hears you call tentatively. He didn’t even hear you come in, and now you’re at his side, wrapping him in a hug and holding him close to soothe him. God, he loves when you hold him. Call it being touch-starved, but nothing felt better to Matt than when you have your arms around him. Sure, being in your apartment is comforting—your smell surrounding him and engulfing his senses, but nothing was better than the actual thing, your body against his, skin to skin. “Matty, is everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” he sniffles, holding you close and kissing your forehead. “It’s just, uh, well this.”

You pull back slightly from his hug and wipe away some of his tears before peeking down to see what’s in his hands.

“Garlic powder?” you try. “Is it bad?”

“No, no,” he smiles, wiping away some stray tears with the heel of his hand. “It’s great.”

“I thought we were going out to dinner tonight. But with all my spices out, something tells me you might have fibbed.”

“I did fib. I wanted to surprise you with dinner, especially after hearing about your day, but you’re the one that surprised me.” Taking your hand, he gently guides your fingers over the label to where the braille is.

“Oh.” Matt listens to how the blood rushes to your cheeks and how your heart rate picks up. “The label.”

“The label,” he echos softly.

“I finally found a good braille label maker that I liked,” you begin to explain. “I mean, we’re always at each other’s place. I wanted to make my home feel a little more homey for you.”

“You really love me, huh?”

He listens to how you smile from ear to ear. “So much more than you’ll ever know, Matty.”

Putting the garlic powder down, he takes your face in his hands and pulls you in for a deep kiss, your arms happily snaking around him and holding him close.

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger​ @steampowerednightvaler​ @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles​ @toozmanykids​ @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop​ @itwasthereaminuteago​ @peter1ismybrother@hellskitchens-whore​​ @dpaccione​ @catnip987​

Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters

[sansaorgana]

Hey Lily, how are you? I've be following you for a while and I love your posts (hotd, dune, mota...). Your stories are amazing, with a lot of details and its look like the original character - its incredible.

I would love to see Feyd, Gale or Benny as a devoted husband with baby fever. Like, he can't see his wife next to other kids, baby clothes, toys or anything without think about get her pregnant.

He acts like a pregnan woman with desires and have a attack when don't have what he wants.

Just if you feel confortable, of course. Sorry for my english, it's my second language. Kisses and hugs from Brasil!

hello, sweetheart! 🥰 thank you for this request. it was so fun to write Buck and Benny with a baby fever 👶🏻👶🏾 I decided to write for the both of them (each one of them has their own little story and a bit different approach to the subject since they differ a lot from one another). I didn't include Feyd because it was more difficult for me to imagine + I don't feel very inspired to write for him lately (and I still have fics to write with him so I gotta rewatch Dune 2 soon hehe 😏)

I had to close my requests for now because I got so many 🙏🏻

GIFS: (x) // (x)

BUCK CLEVEN

Ever since he came back from Europe, Buck had only one thing on his mind – getting you pregnant. Well, starting a family with you to be exact but weren’t they the same thing?

You had been planning it even before his departure and now the war was over, he was back and with a strong need of distraction and a new purpose in life. It was not like you didn’t want that – quite the opposite, you had been daydreaming of him coming back home to you and giving you a little baby for the whole time he had been at war. But that man… Your man… He had the worst baby fever you had ever seen, you swore to God.

It was adorable, really. How he would come back home from work late to you pacing around the living room or kitchen – worried and overthinking – but oh, it was nothing serious… He just had to stop by that store with baby clothes. They had cute overalls on a mannequin by the window and he decided to buy them “for later”. Typical Buck.

You had a few boxes in your attic already with baby clothes and toys ready. Even a crib because it was on sale and good quality. Buck was fixated on the idea of having a baby with you. But he wasn’t pushy, no.

However, he had read all the books about fatherhood and pregnancy he could find in the local library. And he started to watch your diet a little – telling you to add more of this or that, which could increase the chances of pregnancy. He changed his own habits, too, although he had always been a clean and healthy man – no drinking, no smoking and all that.

You were invited to a barbecue at the neighbour's house. They were living across the street – Michael and his wife Pat. They had three kids running around and you could already see Buck’s dreamy gaze as he watched them play. 

And then their youngest – little Evie, around two years old – climbed onto your lap and hugged you. She was a sweet and cuddly baby and you chuckled at her sudden affection before wrapping your arms around her and pulling her closer to bop her nose and baby talk to her sweetly as she giggled.

“You’d be a good mum,” Pat pointed out with a smile. “Aren’t you two planning to have children of your own?” She asked. She was a bit of a nosy woman but Buck answered before you even managed to open your mouth.

“We’re working on it, Pat,” he nodded at her with that sweet smile of his.

“Oh, really?” She smiled widely. “Well, good luck!” Pat seemed to be excited. “This street needs more of the little ones to run around!” She added and sat next to you to tickle little Evie on your lap. “Come on, Evie, come back to mummy. Leave auntie (Y/N) now, you must be giving her an insufferable baby fever,” she pointed out and took her daughter from you.

“Me? I can handle that,” you giggled and pointed at your husband. “Buck, though…” You laughed and he rolled his eyes. You spotted a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks. “He’s crazy about it,” you explained.

“Really?” Pat widened her eyes as she looked at you and then at Buck. She turned her head around to make sure Michael couldn’t hear her as she lowered her voice. “Well, you’re lucky, darling. Most men aren’t... They don’t care that much.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, furrowing your brows. “Michael seems to be a good father.”

“Yeah, he is, but, I mean…” Pat sighed. “He’s not very present in it, if you know what I mean. Most men like the idea of having babies but not the babies themselves, if you get me. It just looks so good when you can brag to other men that you have a bunch waiting for you at home. But changing diapers or playing with them is a different story.”

You moved uncomfortably on your seat. Buck couldn’t hear your gossip either, engaged in a conversation with the seven years old son of Michael and Pat – Victor. Looking at him, though, you couldn’t imagine that he would be a father like Pat had described. No, your Buck was different.

“Gale is not like that,” you told her. “I am sure of that.”

Pat only nodded at that, a hint of sadness on her face. You sighed and turned around to squint your eyes at Michael who was now scolding their eldest daughter Mary about something. You suddenly liked him much less.

After the barbecue, you packed some leftovers that Pat had insisted on you to take and you went back home to spend the evening with your husband. The moment you put the bowl with food inside your fridge and closed the door of it, you felt Buck’s hands wrapping around you from behind. He placed his chin on your shoulder and started to caress your abdomen as if there was a baby there already.

“You looked so angelic with little Evie on your lap,” he whispered into your ear with a loving smile. “I want to have a daughter with you,” he kissed your cheek.

“You were so sweet with Victor,” you chuckled at that. “I want to have a son with you.”

“We won’t ever agree on that,” Buck sighed, playfully. “I’m afraid we must have both.”

“Mhm, a pair of each,” you teased back and placed your hands on top of his.

“You think you can give me four?” Buck asked, more seriously this time, leaning in to have a better look at your face.

“I can give you as many as you wish, Gale,” you assured him with a nod. “As much as my doctor says that is safe for me, at least,” you fixed yourself. “Honestly, I can’t imagine anyone else being the father of my babies. I can’t wait to have a family with you,” you added with a sweet smile.

Buck nodded and kissed your cheek one more time before moving away slightly and leaning on the wall. You turned around and furrowed your brows.

“What’s wrong, darling?” You asked, You could feel that something was off.

“Is it weird?” He asked. “That I want it so bad? I don’t want to… I don’t want to make you feel pressured,” he sighed and looked down.

“It’s not weird, baby, it’s sweet,” you approached him to cup his cheeks and force him to look up again. Once he did, you cracked a smile at those beautiful baby blue eyes and leaned in to kiss along the tiny scars scattered all over his face. “About the pressure…” You chuckled while shaking your head. “Well, we have five boxes up in the attic, all filled with toys and clothes. And even a crib. Jesus, Buck…” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Who wouldn’t feel the pressure? I feel like you’re pressuring yourself a bit too much as well, huh?”

A short silence occurred and you could see in your husband’s pretty eyes that he was contemplating something before looking down with a sigh.

“Sorry… I just… I want the baby with you… So bad. One would be enough, just one and I’d be the happiest,” he confessed and you couldn’t help yet another chuckle because his words were almost whiny. He was acting like wives usually would and you simply found it cute and adorable.

“I’m gonna give you a baby, don’t you worry, honey,” you played along and rubbed your nose with his, giving him a sweet promise that husbands would usually give their wives.

Buck looked up, his eyes filled with love and the sparkles of excitement.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too, darling,” you kissed his forehead. “You’re the best husband I could have asked for and soon you’re gonna be the best daddy, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Buck chuckled and pulled you closer by your waist to kiss your forehead as well and rub your back. “By the way, I heard what you and Pat were talking about. I’m gonna change diapers, don’t you worry.”

“Oh,” you laughed at that. “What a relief.”

Indeed, it was. But it was no surprise either. Buck was just the sweetest and the most devoted husband you had ever met.

And he was all yours.

BENNY CROSS

You were at one of those big stores with clothes for everyone and for literally every occasion, looking for something cheap but presentable for your husband. You swore, Benny had only five pieces of clothing and you just were sick of washing them over and over because they were getting so dirty from the grease and mud all the time.

Or blood from the fights. But that was another story.

“And this?” You asked for the tenth time as you showed him a nice polo with stripes. It looked pretty proper and you already knew what he would say.

“Nah,” he shook his head without even looking properly. “I ain’t a square.”

“Benny,” you sighed at him, putting the shirt back. “You need some nice clothes, too,” you scolded him.

“Well, I might need ‘em but I ain’t gonna wear ‘em,” he shrugged his arms and walked away, uninterested.

He didn’t even want to be there. In his eyes, his wardrobe was perfectly fine and he didn’t need anything new. You sighed. You wouldn’t win with him.

“Can we at least get you a new pair of boxer shorts? I hate the grey ones,” you whispered to him. “You know, the ones with fucking holes. I want to throw them away,” you gave him a scolding look.

“Alright,” Benny rolled his eyes and he followed you to the section with underwear.

He picked some black ones and turned around to give them to you but you weren’t there anymore. Cursing under his breath, he looked around to find you and then he froze at the sight of you standing in the middle of the section with baby clothes. He squeezed the new pair of boxer shorts in his hand and walked up to you.

“Hey, you got lost, baby?” He asked you with a smile.

You looked pretty mesmerised by a tiny pink dress in front of you. You reached your hand out to feel the soft fabric and you smiled.

“Oh, it’s so cute, Benny… It’s so adorable,” you told him and he swallowed thickly.

At first, he was a little uncomfortable with that comment. He knew what it meant when women were getting like that and he wasn’t sure if he was ready for his wife being like that, too, but then he looked at the dress himself and he froze. He blinked a few times, very slowly, as his heart picked up its pace.

That was a very cute dress indeed.

“Come on, what do we need it for? It ain’t like you gonna fit in it,” he tried to make a joke about it.

“I can buy it for Tammy,” you looked up at his face.

“Who’s Tammy?” Benny asked, scrunching his nose.

“The girl I work with for years and been telling you about since we started dating. She’s had a baby girl recently,” you rolled your eyes.

“Never heard of ‘er,” Benny shrugged his arms.

It was no secret he was sometimes simply not listening when you were telling him stories about your work or friends. Not even because he found them boring but he was just getting so lost in the way you looked that he was just ending up staring at you lovingly instead and dissociating completely.

Also, why would he care about some girl who wasn’t you?

“I’m gonna get it for her,” you decided and took the dress with you. “Got those boxers, Benny?” You asked him and he showed you the ones he was holding in his hand. “Okay,” you nodded and cleared your throat. “Let’s go pay for those.”

A week had passed and Benny noticed something while opening the wardrobe each time in the morning – the little pink dress was still there. Folded neatly on top of your clothes and waiting for you to finally take it to that girl you had mentioned. What was her name? Ronnie?

“Kitty…?” Benny scratched the back of his head. You were still in bed since you had a day off and he was getting ready to meet with Johnny.

“Yeah, baby?” You mumbled with your eyes still closed, cuddling Benny’s pillow and breathing in his scent.

“What’s that baby dress still doing ‘ere?” He asked and looked at your sleeping form.

“I ain’t giving it to Tammy, I decided,” you informed him. “It’s too cute to give it away. And it wasn’t cheap either. It’s better to save it for one day when we have a daughter of our own,” you added casually and turned around. Your eyes were closed but you still felt too embarrassed to be facing him at that moment.

You had never discussed the matter of having babies before.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Benny closed the doors of the wardrobe after getting a top he wanted from it. “I didn’t want you to give it away anyway,” he shrugged his arms and you opened your eyes at his words before slowly turning around as you rested on your elbow.

“Wait, really?” You asked.

“It’s too pretty for Ronnie’s daughter to have it,” Benny shrugged his arms. “Should be our little princess havin’ it.”

“It’s Tammy,” you rolled your eyes with a sigh.

“Yeah, yeah,” Benny nodded and leaned in to give you a short peck on the lips. “I’m gonna go now, yeah? I’ll be back later.”

“Yeah, be careful,” you nodded at him and watched him leave the bedroom.

When he left, you giggled to yourself and hid your face in the pillow.

In fact, you kept smiling all day long at Benny's words about your little princess. You even found yourself caressing your tummy a few times although you weren’t pregnant yet. In fact, you didn’t even know what he had truly meant by that. Would he want to have a baby with you… soon? Or just… one day?

You had no idea how to start this conversation when he’d be back home but you didn’t have to because he came back with a small package and handed it to you without a word.

“What is it?” You raised an eyebrow at him but he remained silent, with his hands inside the pockets of his leather jacket.

You opened the package and widened your eyes at the brown baby corduroy overalls that were about the same size as the pink dress hidden in your wardrobe upstairs. You looked at your husband questioningly.

“Been thinkin’, what if the baby turns out to be a boy after all? We have to be prepared for both possibilities,” he explained, casually.

“Benny…!” You squealed and jumped onto him, throwing your hands behind his neck. “Oh, Benny, you’re bein’ serious, really? You want a little baby with me?” You looked into his eyes and bit on your lower lip.

“Yeah,” Benny nodded, cracking a smile. “Why not?”

You froze at that question as you took a step back and folded the baby overalls carefully before placing them on the kitchen counter.

“What?” He asked, studying your face carefully with his curious, baby blue eyes.

“Why not is just… Not enough, you know?” You looked up to see his face. “I only want to have a baby with you if you really, really, want it, too.”

Short silence occurred and you noticed Benny’s hands moving nervously inside the pockets of his jacket.

“I do, kitty,” he assured you but he lowered his voice. Talking about his emotions was not a strong asset of his. In fact, it was no asset of his. “When I saw ya at the store staring at that baby dress… Dunno, something clicked in me, you know? I can’t stop thinkin’ of a little you crawlin’ around the house since then,” he confessed as his cheeks flushed crimson red.

“Oh, baby,” you gasped and approached him again to cup his face in your hands. “Alright, that’s enough, I believe ya,” you assured him. You didn’t want to push him to share more of these thoughts because you knew it wasn’t easy for him. “But you know that when we have a baby… Some things will have to change, right?” You asked, anxiously. You weren’t sure what his reaction would be.

Benny, however, grabbed your wrists gently and leaned in to place a kiss upon one of them and then turned his head to do the same to the other.

“I know, baby. It’s about time,” he whispered, looking deep into your eyes.

He had been mentioning for some time now that he wasn’t enjoying the direction the club was going into. He just wanted to drive with those guys and feel free, have fun. He didn’t like the new, heavy stuff. Having a baby would be a good excuse to finally leave them. He had even been discussing this with Johnny earlier that day.

And he didn’t need the club to have the sense of belonging anymore because he had you. And the little family you would start soon.

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST

[hearts-4-vicky]

Can you write Sub!Liz x Dom!Gp!Reader,with overstimulation,praising and facesitting.If you're comfortable with it,if you're not you can delete it.Thank you 💌🫂

OMG ANONIE IVE BEEN THINKIGN ABT LIZ A LOTTTT LATELY here u go my luv

warnings: subby baby liz, g!p reader, dom reader, overstimulation, praise, face sitting, petnames, unnie kink, a lot of eye contact (i think its hot), marking, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), i thibk thats it

not proofread sorry baby💔

Liz had never been straight forward with with what she wanted. always dropping hints, lots of hints. it was exactly why you were surprised when she hovered over your face, with no bra or panties pleading to you. “Make love to me, please” the sultry look in her eyes awakened something inside of you. both of you lock eyes as you grab her soft thighs to guide her to press her puffy pussy to your awaiting mouth. you hold the eye contact as you give her cunt kitty licks, making her close her eyes and arch her back, swirling your tongue in her warm cunt.

her bottom lip was trapped between her teeth, muffling her pretty moans and whimpers you loved so much. pausing the movement of your tongue caught her attention, looking down at your slick stained face. her head tilt to the side, signaling her confusion “Princess, I need to hear your voice… please” your voice slightly muffled by her cunt on your lips before going back to lapping up her juices as if it was your last meal. her soft thighs suffocating you in a tight embrace, her puffy cunt drenching you in her juices. everything about her was addicting, and all of it was yours. Liz started mindlessly grinding against your face, feeling her clit hit your nose which earned a loud squeal from the girl. “mmgh- ha… unnie!- p-please…” she tugged your hair to make you capture her clit in your hot mouth, lightly grazing your teeth against the bud. the action has her reeling, moaning loudly as if to let the neighbors know whos making her feel good before throwing her head back and squirting all over you. liz’s moans were a beautiful symphony to your ears as she rides her high. you swallowed all that she gave you, moaning at the taste, cleaning up her leaking cunt with urgency. as jiwon slowly stopped grinding shamelessly against your face, you kept the same pace, overstimulating the poor girl. the whining girl tried to push your head away from her overwhelmed pussy, with no success shes once again moaning out your name. your skillful tongue brings jiwon to her second orgasm of the night, harsher than the first. “s’too much unnie… ha.. ghk! s’too much!” you stopped your actions, not wanting to overwhelm the poor girl anymore. it took her a bit to come back to her senses, she looked down to meet your eyes while breathing heavily. you gave jiwon a look to signal her to move off your face, which she did. sitting up on your bed, you brought her into your embrace, soothing the tired girl. “did so well baby, unnie’s so proud of you..” she kept her face buried in your neck, panting against it. you sat liz on your clothed crotch, letting her feel how hot she makes you.

“Got one more in you, babydoll? for me?” you whispered in her ear, before switching positions so you were pinning her to the bed. she blinks slowly at your words before nodding in response. you gather some of jiwon’s juices in one hand, the other busy pulling off your boxers. you spread her slick on your throbbing cock, pressing your tip against her pretty cunt then slowly pushing into it. she clenched around you, throwing her head back.

liz whined as tears kept spilling from her eyes til they were kissed away by you, made her feel so loved🥺 (i really love liz guys shes so cute) tracing shapes on her plush thigh to distract her, “fuck… taking me so good baby, just like that.." her grip around your neck tighten by the second. all of your cock was inside of her now, breathing heavily in response the foreign feeling of it. slow, deep thrusts had both of you panting, liz was barely able to form words “u-unnie..” you marked her neck as you toyed her hard nipples, groping her soft tits “let unnie fuck.. take care of you sweet girl..” you mumbled in her neck between kisses. her high pitch whines get you to speed up until you’re pounding into her overstimulated cunt. liz throws her head back onto the pillow but you hold her chin to hold eye contact with her as your harsh thrusts create slapping sounds echo in the quiet room. “cmon babygirl-mmgh.. shit.. so pretty for me baby, give unnie one more..” a few more thrusts and shes squirting all over your lower half, drenching herself and you in her juices. her squeals drown out your moans as you fill her up, thrusting faster into her puffy cunt to fuck your load into her. your grip on her waist tightens as you slow down, before coming to a complete stop. heavy breaths fill the room as you look at each other. “thank you pretty girl.. fuck, i adore you” you say softly as you slowly pull out, your cum leaking out of her pussy onto the sheets.

“Lets get you cleaned up yeah?” scooping her in your arms as if she was light as a feather made her mind fuzzy, hiding her red flushed face in your neck.

“mhm..”

holy shit i missed writing for you guys.. hi my loves❤️ theres now over 330 of you guys damn😭 sorry for my absence i got super busy last week :((( ill make it up to you guys i promise <3

Stay safe n i love you lots!

- Vicky 💋

[jeongheart]

touch

summary: 'physical touch refers to expressing and receiving affection through touch, physical closeness, and other forms of physical connection'.

w.c: 1.4k.

tags: strangers to friends to lovers (kinda?), mutual pining, fluff.

a.n: i'm soft, this was inspired by that video of jeongin bumping into jisung lol. my first innie work aaa i'm so happy that i finished it, i'm so proud of this one too.

as always, english is not my first language so sorry in advance for any mistakes, leave your thoughts if you like! it means a lot.

Jeongin doesn't like to be touched.

He strongly believes that his personal space is sacred, and he can't understand the people who require physical contact 24/7.

It's no secret to anyone that he dislikes (physical) displays of affection, not that he doesn't have them with the people he loves, he prefers to let them know that he loves them with a special gift on their birthday or by buying them something that reminds him of that person.

He especially hates hugs. He feels trapped by the other person, and despite the fact that in the 22 years of his life he repeated it a thousand times, his family and friends don't seem to get the hint.

He doesn't want to be surly, really. It's something that has been like that since he can remember.

Jeongin doesn't like to be touched.

Except if that someone is you.

It's funny actually, you'd met casually, the way people met before: in real life. The first day of college was tough, everything and everyone was new and having to get used to a "grown-up" routine all of a sudden was something that took time.

He remembers the time exactly: 07:20 am. It was the first of the day, he was sitting in front of the class, he had a bad habit of being easily distracted, so he had to force himself to overcome his shame and desire to sleep to be in front of the blackboard.

The class started at 07:30, and the room was almost full. The professor arrived less than a minute ago and Jeongin was glad to be alone and in peace. His notebook lay open in front of him, the pages white and spotless.

Until you arrived, late.

You came running, it was obvious that you'd fallen asleep. Your hair was somewhat messy, probably due to the wind and the run you made through the building, your face was red (from embarrassment and exertion), but a smile was present on your face.

The professor looked at you funny and with a gesture of her hand she asked you to come in and take a seat somewhere free.

The only one was next to Jeongin.

Your eyes lit up at the sight of the empty chair, and even though you couldn't see it, Jeongin rolled his eyes as he saw you approaching the table.

With the woman summarizing her presentation, you arranged your things on the table (everything was in pastel colors, the blonde noticed) and you looked at him expectantly with that smile still on your face.

He could tell you were alone, actually, you were the only two who were. All your other classmates knew each other. So your attempt to start a conversation with him was logical, you also realized that he was alone.

"It looks like we'll be buddies" You smiled again and then told him your name while you extended your hand in an attempt to shake his, a very old gesture and not funny at all according to Jeongin.

He played dumb, but he told you his name. And then he said nothing more, watching out of the corner of his eye as you slowly lower your hand to rest it on your lap.

The weeks passed like this, you had a clear love language and unfortunately it was the one that Jeongin hated the most. You were always trying to touch him, not in a wicked or weird way, just friendly since that's how you showed affection. You were friends, but he couldn't tell you 'stop doing that' every time you reached out to touch his shoulder to get his attention.

You annoyed him every time you did that, but he couldn't deny that when you weren't getting clingy he appreciated your company. You were a comfortable presence in his life most of the time, and he liked not being alone in an unfamiliar environment where everyone greeted each other and ate together every day.

The first part of the academic year ended in the blink of an eye and the relationship between the two of you was only growing.

Jeongin didn't know when he let you touch his arm for the first time, he thinks it was in the library when you were studying for an exam.

He was nervous as he couldn't memorize anything and you, ever so nice, reached out your hand in an attempt to comfort him to rest it on Jeongin's left arm which was sprawled on top of the book he was trying to read.

Jeongin hadn't noticed that he hadn't tensed like the other times and he just kept reading and rereading the same sentences while the heat rose to your cheeks.

You didn't know what changed, but the fact that the boy who moved away every time you got at least 5 cm closer than normal had finally relaxed around you had butterflies flying in your stomach.

The months unfolded normal after that, and Jeongin would let you into his bubble of personal space more and more often.

He definitely hadn't realized how much he liked to feel your warm hands on his when he needed to calm down before a presentation or how his heart would jump in his chest when he saw you smile after you hugged him goodbye when he dropped you at your house after college.

"I like you a lot, Innie" You told him after the second exam.

Another final exam ended, and with it, the end of the year was drawing near. Jeongin was going to a vacation with his family in Busan and you definitely couldn't go weeks and weeks without seeing him, or his dimples or hearing his laugh and you would never forgive yourself if you didn't tell him everything that was on your mind every time you were together.

Jeongin looked like a statue, his mouth was opening and closing in an attempt to find the right words. His mind had short-circuited and it seemed that he had lost all ability to form a coherent sentence.

The snow was falling around the two of you, the heartless winter wrapped you from head to toe and as the minutes passed without an answer, your heart raced more and more and if Jeongin paid enough attention he could see how your eyes began to water as you overthought your sudden confession.

Maybe he didn't feel the same way, and you were making a fool of yourself. You began to prepare the speech of 'sorry, I shouldn't have said anything' to save your heart from the impending rejection and to be able to escape from that situation as quickly as possible.

Until Jeongin moved, he took two short steps until he was face to face to you. He was a head taller than you and your eyes searched his urgently, trying to decipher the answer he hadn't put into words.

The blond placed his big hands on your cheeks, reddened by the cold and now by shame, and caressed your skin with his thumbs.

You swore that if it wasn't for his soft grip on your face, you might have passed out from how fast your heart was beating, your legs felt like jelly, and the suspense felt eternal. You wanted to yell at him to answer or for him to do something, anything to finally stop your heart racing with feelings.

You opened your mouth to talk, but Jeongin closed the distance between you by placing his lips on yours.

You froze at first, arms still on either side of your body but then, as if awakened from a trance, you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to lose yourself in the heat of the kiss, everything around you felt cold except for this moment, the soft feeling of his plush lips on yours and the warmth spreading from the tip of your fingertoes to every strand of hair on your head.

He moved only a few inches from you, enough to be able to whisper over your lips "I like you too".

You laughed slowly, so softly that it almost felt like a whisper, so only he could hear it "Yes, I think I realized that" And tangling your hands behind his neck you brought him closer to you to kiss him again.

Jeongin doesn't like to be touched, but you were the only exception.

[lesbianmistressworld]

My beautiful girl has been very clingy lately, she always sits on my lap when I work on the computer. I know she's like this, because work has absorbed a lot of my time these days and I haven't been able to attend to her needs as I always have.

She's on my lap right now, burying her face on my neck, trying to hump my leg, I caress her back with one hand to gain her attention.

Me: Are you needy baby?

She just nodded, letting out a little moan

Me: Since when? She: Some days ago Me: Why you didn't tell me you are horny sweetheart? She: I didn't want to bother you, you has been very busy Me: Go for your toys sweetie, choose whatever you want

She disappeared into the room and in less than a minute she returned to me with a strap and her favorite bullet vibe. I took her clothes off just letting her bra. I rubbed her butt cheeks and her pelvis, kissed her from her belly to her lips; I wore the strap, and start teasing her open with the tip, she hugged me and scratched my back

She: Please mommy, I need you inside me pleaaasee

I sat back down in front of my laptop and helped my girl slowly sit on my lap, while the strap disappeared inside her. She let out small moans, while trying to mount the strap. I grabbed her by the waist to make her stop moving.

Me: Baby please stop moving, you are distracting me and it will take me longer to finish the work, and I won't be able to help you the way you want She: Sorry mommy

I went back to my work, and in less than 5 minutes, she started trying to ride the strap again

Me: What did I tell you about moving sweetheart?

She: I'm so sorry but I'm really horny, and the strap and the way you're caressing me are not helping, please mommy, I really need it pleaaaasee

I feel bad for not taking care of her as good as I wanted

Me: I'm sorry princess, I know you're needy and I haven't paid attention tou you

I took the vibe and put it on her bare clit, and started circling on it, she move her hips to feel even more the vibration, I kissed her neck en started playing with her breasts, I set up the vibe and let her move her body as she needs

She: Mommy, I'm so close Me: I know baby, I can see it She: Mommy… Can I cum pleasseee I've been good, pleasssseeee… I don't think I can hold it any longer Me: You don't have to hold it princess, come on, cum for mommy, lett it all out

She came on my lap, lettin her tired body fall on my chest, she was cumming the entire time my work lasted, riding just the strap or asking me for help to use the vibe. Once I finished my task, I took her to bed to clean her and put her fresh pj's on

Me: I'm sorry I haven't taken care of you for so long because of my job baby. I promise that I'll always take care of you and satisfy you whenever you are needy. Now, sleep well princess