#I took my first walk in the woods since years

[tumefaismal]

In the wilderness

You're my star

Wherever you are

[yeyinde]

(sighs dreamily) i loooove the way you write fucked up and gross simon. the size kink and somno drabbles have been living rent free in my mind for almost two weeks now. the recent stalker piece was also so deliciously terrifying, i actually had a dream/nightmare today that was a mixture of stalker!ghost and not-dog!soap ����

are you planning on writing any more for either of those?

ahhh thank you!!!! this had me wondering how i could maybe blend the two and this happened.

stalking. HEAVILY implied noncon somno. size difference.

Simon decides your dog, your baby, needs a man in the house. and since you like to call yourself his 'mama,’ then it’s only right that he becomes the daddy both of you need.

Your dog does not like strangers.

He's a rescue and the sort of life he lived until now, until you, is mostly a mystery. You found him on a rainy day, panting under your awning - a gnarled mess of matted fur glued to bone. Too skinny to survive another winter. You took him in right away and gained his trust. His love. But whatever he had left to spare (lots, it seems) is strictly reserved for you. Everyone else is a threat, a worry. Even the vets he's known since you found him all those years ago still get the same wary glances, the same growls then they lean in too close to whisper something in your ear.

He's just—special. The sweetest thing ever when it's just you. Your baby. People joke—slightly nervous—that he treats you like his mother. Following you closely with his big, glossy eyes tilted up to stare at you. Loving. Cuddly. Rests his big head on your lap at night with a great, big sigh. Tired from a long, hard day of protecting his house from squirrels and the stray delivery driver.

But when it comes to others—anyone, really—he’s aggressive. Territorial. All the vets and trainers say that it's his breed. That he just needs to be trained. Exposure therapy. Behavioural. And it works for all of two weeks before he's back to his stubborn self. Snapping at anyone who gets too close to you.

You post warnings on your fence. Your front door. Take precautions when you walk him. Warn anyone who gets close that he doesn't like anyone. Full stop. No exceptions. And it works. Helps ease the stress. He still goes to therapy. To training lessons. But he's smart enough to trick them into thinking he's learning.

And it's fine. People can't get too close to you. To his house. His territory.

Or so you thought.

But he's been acting strange lately.

You caught him barking at something through the fence a few months ago; spittle flying from his muzzle as his lips peeled back, snarling and vicious. If the fence wasn't reinforced, you think he would have broken it down to get at whatever was behind it.

It continued like this for a few days. Each time you went to check and see what was there, all you find is littered cigarettes. The teenage son of your neighbour, you think. He likes to hide in the dense woods so his parents can't find him. You'll talk to him about it later. Ask if he can do it a little further away from the fence so he isn’t disturbing Baby. 

As the days grow, his growls and snarls diminish before stopping outright. In the interim, your unease grows.

It's small—at first. 

He wants to be outside more. Always whining at the back door, scratching at it with his paw. When you let him out, he runs right to that spot by the fence. Sits down, and just stares. When you go out to look, there's nothing there. Just a dark, sprawling coppice. Cigarettes on the ground. But something catches his attention. Keeps it. Holds it.

He leads you to that spot sometimes, too. Nudges you with his big, furry head to your thighs. Shepherding you to the fence, and then sits back, clearly preening. Proud.

"You're mama’s silly boy, aren't you?" you coo, scratching his ears. It must be the neighbour. Maybe a stray deer wandered by. You catch a flash through the tree line. Twin puddles of black peering through the tangled weeds. Your dog perks up, looking towards it. A deer, you think. A stray buck. You huff, patting his head. "Made a new friend, huh?"

But you can't shake the feeling that something else is out there. That something is staring at you.

Nothing, you tell yourself, fighting off a shiver. It's fine. Fine. He sneaks off at night sometimes. You hear him playing in the hallway. Wandering around the house. The tack-tack-tack of his nails against the hardwood as he walks back to your bedroom lulls you back to sleep. You feel the bed dip. Something warm against your back. You sigh, melting into the sheets—

There's nothing to worry about.

He'll protect you.

But the next morning, you find him locked outside. The patio door shut. The deck is dried from the sun, but his fur is wet. It rained last night. You drifted in and out to the patter of it on your window. The soothing weight of his body curling around you—

He must have gotten out in the morning. Rolled around in the grass. But when you put him in the tub later to scrub the rainwater off of his cost, his belly is dry.

It's nothing. He was in bed with you last night. It's fine. Fine. Everything is easy to explain away as coincidence. Nothing usual. The feeling of being watched. The missing food from your fridge. The creaks of the old house at night. Things shifting around—keys missing only to turn up somewhere else. Rodents chewing through your landline. 

The panties you shed, tossing into a corner before getting into the shower going missing—

They’re just—lost in the wash. You must have thrown the leftover food away when you cleaned earlier and forgot. The lingering scent of cigarettes. Smoke in your bed. The cloying scent of loam, humus. Fresh dirt. The stains on your bed. The strange smear in the gusset of your panties when you peel them apart.

Something thick, firm between your thighs—

Fine. You tell yourself. Everything is fine. At best, it's a gas leak. At worst—well.

Baby will protect you. 

Always. 

But the next day, he brings his favourite toy to the back door, asking to be let out, and this isn't—

It's not normal.

He's possessive over his toys. Keeps them on his daybed and refuses to let anyone touch them. Only you. He doesn't bring the. Outside, either.

But when you peer outside a few minutes later, the toy is lying by that spot near the fence. He's sitting down, tail wagging. Happy. Excited. It continues like this for the next few days. He brings his toys to the fence, coming in later, licking his lips. When you brush his teeth at night, you smell something gamey on his breath. Meaty. 

Getting out of bed a few hours later and playing in the hallway. Going to sleep with you at night, but somehow getting out in the early hours of the morning, waiting for you on the patio when you remember the huff of his breath over your neck less than an hour ago—

No. You're just—

Getting the time wrong. It's fine. He'll protect you. He doesn't like anyone but you.

You hear footsteps in the hallway at night next to the click-clack of his nails. When you jump out of bed to check, it's just him. Sitting by the back door, head craned over his shoulder when he heard you coming. His favourite toy is sitting on the ground in front of him. You fight a shiver. The feeling of eyes burning into you churns your stomach.

"I'm going crazy, sweetheart," you coo, but feel the threads of your sanity begin to snap one by one. "But you'll keep me safe, right?"

His tail wags. You pretend not to notice the gap in the patio door. Opened just a crack. You shut it, forcibly telling yourself to remember to close it next time and fight the memories of locking it before settling on the couch to watch old re-runs. You drag him back to bed, burrowing your head into his fur, listening to the thud-thud-thud of his heart in your ear. 

When you dream that night, it's of a big, scarred hand making its way between your thighs. A rasping, masculine voice in your ear commanding you to be good—

You wake up with your thighs sticky, wet. Your cunt pulsing. There's an ache there; a sting. It twinges when you move, tapering into a sore throb as you swing your legs over the side of the bed, woken up by the strange dream—fingers between your thighs, a head resting on your belly, calling you a good girl—and a noise.

A low murmur comes from the living room. You wince with the first several steps, forcing yourself to ignore the uncomfortable feeling between your thighs. The wetness that drips down your leg, some of it already dried, sticking to your skin. It’s fine. You just had a—

A wet dream.

—everything is fine. Fine. Your heart lurches. Lodges in your throat. Each beat feels like a fist against your tissue trying to break down the prison of your flesh to flee. 

You slowly inch toward the hallway, the sound, making excuses for the fear that curdles in your belly. The itch in the back of your head that calls you stupid. Demands you go back to bed. To sleep. You���ll wake up in the morning to Baby slobbering over your chest, drooling as the time ticks away in a slow crawl towards his usual breakfast. 

It’s tempting. The sleep congealing in the corners of your eyes, weighing heavy—molasses-thick—over your sense of awareness: cobwebbed in that strange, uncanny realm of sleep and wakefulness; hypnagogia turning shadows on the walls into human shapes. The whisper of wind into the brassy drawl of a voice. 

Through it all, the prickle rears. Says something isn't right. Hasn't been right for a while now. It's fine. Everything is—

It doesn't make sense at first. Your brain tries to wrap around the images your eyes feed it. Untangling the dizzying sense of confusion that runs along your hindbrain like a jagged knife; grazing tissue, scraping over nerves. The picture comes together quickly. There's no misinterpreting the shapes.

A man is lounging on your couch. Legs kicked up on the coffee table, ankles crossed. The remote is held in one hand as he lazily flicks through the channels on your television screen. The picture of ease. So relaxed, so comfortable in your space, that you begin to feel a little bit like an intruder. A voyeur peering between the curtains.

This feeling is reinforced when you peel your eyes away from the horrifying mask on the man's face—a black balaclava—and find your dog lounging beside him. Resting with his head over this stranger's thick thighs. His head perks up when you approach, tail wagging, but he doesn't get up from his spot. Content to bask in the half-hearted attention the man doles, a hand buried in his fur. Dragging over his ears. Down his back. Monotonous flicks of his thick wrist, nearly the same width as the barrel of a baseball bat.

And that just trembles down your spine in the worst way.

He's the same height as you are sitting down. Takes up two cushions on the couch with his absurd bulk. Massive, you think. And then it all rushes through you. The knife slips into your cognisance.

There's a man in your house. Petting your dog,

your dog who tries to bite the same vet he's had for years. Who trusts, who likes, no one but you—

You make a noise. Something strangled in the back of your throat. Muffed, unable to escape through the clot of your heart getting there first. It tangles around your pericardium and is too late to take back. To swallow down. 

It doesn’t matter, though. 

The man has been watching from the beginning. 

Dark eyes (a dark, black flash between the leaves—) drill into you. Staring. That familiar, unease feeling is back again, creeping up your spine. It's been him the whole time, you know. The thing behind the fence. Must be. The same brand of cigarettes you found on the opposite side is sitting on your coffee table, right beside his feet.

His chest expands with his inhale. You smell stale smoke. Something wild. The scent of the forest after a summer's rain shower.

"Finally up, are you? Thought you were gonna sleep all day." His voice is deep. Brassy. The growling roll of an approaching thundercloud. You shiver. Jerk back, but—

Baby growls.

He's never done that before. Never barked. Never snarled. Never nipped.

But right now, his teeth peel back, muzzle wrinkling as he lifts his lips. And you know it's playful. Seen this look on his face when you throw the ball across the yard. It's just him being his silly self. He won't attack you. Won't maul you. 

The man lifts his hand and your dog limbers up. Shakes. He jumps off the couch and trots toward you. Nothing is threatening in the way he moves. It's the same lumbering gait, the same happy wag to his tail, but he moves himself around you. Stands between you and the only escape.

"Baby—?"

"Taught 'im a few tricks," the man drawls conversationally—like he wasn't a stranger in your house. "Got a good boy on your 'ands. Jus' needed a bit o'trainin'—”

He snaps his fingers and Baby moves. Bumps his head into the back of your thighs. Pushing you. Nudging you toward the man. It’s so horrifying familiar that you find yourself moving without a thought. Following along. 

"He jus' needed a man in the house, didn't he? A father figure—" 

You're going to be sick. Think you would have been already if your heart wasn't lodged tight in your throat, keeping everything down. 

The man lifts his hand. Curls his fingers. 

"C'mon, mommy," he taunts, voice a derisive roll. "Come sit on Daddy's lap. It's movie night tonight."

Baby pushes you forward happily, tail wagging, wagging—

Happier than you’ve ever seen him as this stranger reaches out, grabbing your waist and hauling you onto his lap. You think about fighting immediately, struggling to get out of his hold, but he moves back and the unmistakable, blunt press of a gun sends shivers rolling down your spine. You still instantly. Back drawing tight. Fear is a wet, hot pulse behind your ribs. 

“Don’t fight it, birdie—” You feel the warm, damp press of his mask against the shell of your ear. The ridges of his lips move beneath the fabric as he speaks. 

You hear him inhale, drawing in the scent of your shampoo—your fear: an oily thick miasma pooling behind your ears, against your nape—and feel tears pool against your lashline when a surge of familiarity wells up at the solid, firm weight of his chest against your spine. His thigh slips between yours, spreading them wide over the arch of his muscle. Limp, dizzy, you fall back into his chest when he pulls you in, slotting a burly arm over your ribcage. Locked in tight. A shackle. 

“Ain’t go’ nothin’ t’worry about,” he continues, hips shifting. Moving. And—

It’s a not gun. You know it isn’t. When you whimper, it throbs—

There’s the echo of a groan in his voice when he huffs, lips pursing into a kiss. “Nothin’ at all. C’mon, Baby—” 

And Baby obeys eagerly, jumping up on the couch beside him. His snout is warm, wet, when he presses it to your arm, sniffing. Please, you think, staring into his eyes as tears swell, pooling down your cheeks. Please—

But the man lifts his arm, and Baby circles the cushion before falling against his side with a deep, content sigh. Hope is snuffed out of your chest in an instant. The man’s hand falls to his head, rubbing his skull affectionately. 

“Good boy.” Baby perks. His happiness is a palpable thing that swells around you as he melts, eyes slipping closed. “Gonna be a good boy while mum an’ dad spend some time together, ain't you, boy?”

His arm tightens around your waist. Chin notches over your shoulder as he shifts back, legs kicking out to spread your thighs further apart.

"Now," he drawls, hand sliding down to the mess between your thighs. You shiver against him, toying with the idea of running, fleeing—but he must know. Senses it, maybe. He lifts his hips, pressing the gun into your spine. A threat. A warning. But with the way he swallows you up—broad chest closing in on you, trapping you on all sides—you know it's futile.

He has you.

Your submission makes him purr.

"Baby's sleepin', so now let daddy take care'o mommy—"

[evie-sturns]

wrong video - Matt Sturniolo

-----------------------------------------------------------

summary: where your best friend matt accidentally sends you a video of him jerking off instead of the pictures you two took together earlier, you can't help but want him.

contains: smut, switch!matt, fluff.

------------------------..••°°°°••..-----------------------

matt's been my friend for years now, we've hung out the whole day today and took instagram pictures together, now we are laying on the couch together watching some random rom-com.

"matt?" i ask chirpily, looking up from my phone over at matt. his eyes gaze over to me,

"yeah?" matt mumbles, looking at my eyes.

"can you send me the pictures we took earlier, i think i should post some of then." i say, fidgeting with my fingers as i scroll aimlessly through my phone.

"oh yeah of course." matt nods, he picks up his phone again as '10 things i hate about you' blasts through the living room.

i get the notification from matt, i instantly tap on it which takes me to messages.

theres the 4 pictures we took today plus another video..?

i swipe through the pictures then make it to the video.

i press play and my eyes instantly widen.

the video starts off with the camera pointed at the blank celing, then matts hand reaches out and adjusts the camera, the camera points to just his length.

he's running his hand which is covered in rings, repeatedly up and down his dick, his tip is flushed pink and dripping precum down the long vein that travels up the side of his cock. small whimpers and curses fall from his lips before he releases.

i pause the video instantly and look over at matt whos tapping at his screen with his eyes almost bulging out of his head.

"oh fuck- shit no i didn't mean to send that!" matt panics frantically, unsending the message.

"what just happened." i breathe out with a small embarrassed laugh,

"i am so.. sorry." matt whispers, his cheeks a deep red.

i just witnessed my best friend jerking off through a video.

matt stands up and runs a hand through his hair, "i-i'm gonna go to bed." he stammers before walking out of the living room.

i dont even notice but i've been squeezing my thighs together ever since i first looked at the video, it was hot.

i pick up my phone to look at the video again, but its deleted.

the video plays through my mind over and over, i feel weird, why am i thinking about my best friend like that?

i jump up off the couch, letting the blanket fall to the floor.

i almost run down the corridor towards matt's room, i knock twice on the white wood of the door.

"mm?" matt hums shyly from inside, i creak open the door and i'm met with him laying on the bed, wearing just sweatpants and a loose chain.

"matt. i want you to fuck me." i state blankly, i dont even process what i'm saying before it spurts out my mouth.

"what?"

"sorry." i mutter,

"if you want me to fuck you i will." matt says while standing up off the bed and walking over to me.

i turn around to look at him, hes looking down at me with his eyebrows slightly raised.

i grab his chin and pull him into a passionate kiss, matt kisses me back, his tongue quickly slipping into my mouth.

he lets out a small groan against my lips, letting his submissive side slip and thats enough for me to take control.

i guide him back towards the bed, pushing him down lightly onto the mattress.

i straddle him quickly, matt looks up at me with his bright blue doe eyes.

"fuck- i need you." matt whispers as i grind myself against the bulge in his sweatpants

"do you?" i tease into his ear.

"please.." matt whines, throwing his head back as i feel him grow fully hard under me.

i shimmy my sweatpants down my legs, revealing my white lacy panties.

i tear my shirt off of my head, revealing my bare chest right infront of matt's eyes.

"you're so pretty.." he mumbles

i pull down his sweatpants, his large length springing out, the same one that i saw over text 10 minutes ago. "you ready?" he ask, tearing open a condom and rolling it on him.

"i really like you.." i whisper, hovering above his raw tip, "i like you too sweetheart." .

"you need help?" matt speaks, holding my ass and pulling my panties to the the side.

i didn't, i just wanted to feel his hands on me.

"yes,- yeah please.."

he lowers me down onto him, halfway down. suddenly he drops me, my ass colliding with his thighs, i let out a gasp as he smiles, he lifts me back up to his tip, before loweiring me again.

i press two of my manicured hands on his bare chest and push his back down onto the mattress as i start to bounce on my own,

i trace mindless shapes on his skin, "oh fuck- fuck you're so tight" he whimpers.

"im not going to last long- im sorry" matt warns, gripping my waist as i sit fully down on his dick, i rub my clit against his pelvis as i rock back and forth.

suddenly matt flips us over, my back hitting the mattress.

he groans as he slides all the way out to his tip, then pushes all the way inside me again. "fuck.."

he whimpers as he starts to thrust in and out faster "matt oh my god." i moan as he presses on my lower stomach with his free hand, so he can feel how deep he is inside of me.

i clench around his length, feeling all pleasure coarse through my body at once.

i release all over matt's dick, he finishes into his condom then pulls out of me slowly, being careful not to overstimulate me.

matt pulls off his condom and chucks it into the bin on the other side of the room,

he throws his arms up lazily, "trick shot!" he laughs

matt collapses down next to me, "you okay gorgeous?" matt says, pulling me close to him.

"i needed that" i giggle, matt scoffs lightly before picking me up.

he carrys me over to his desk and sets me down on the chair before sorting through his various clothes.

he brings me over some of his sweatpants and an old shirt, "and... arms up!" matt says, pulling the shirt onto me.

he leans over and tugs the sweatpants up my legs.

matt pulls on his pants from earlier and picks me up again, throwing me on the bed.

he flops down beside me and tugs up the covers with a small exhale.

"that was the last thing i expected from tonight." matt says, closing his eyes.

"me too honestly, not mad about it though!" i clarify with a grin.

i pick up my phone from next to me and open up matt and i's messages,

i scroll through my photos, then pick out a specific picture before sending it to matt.

matt picks up his phone, "why'd you send me something i'm right her-" matt starts but cuts himself off.

"shit.." he laughs nervously,

matt opens the picture of me naked in front of my mirror, a small gasp escaping his lips.

he tugs the covers up over his lap as i see his cheeks flush.

"please- don't delete that." he whispers.

"matt.. are you hard again?" i laugh, tugging down the covers.

matt grabs my wrists and pins them above my head.

"how could i not be when you just sent me a picture like- like that!" he protests

"it's okay" i laugh,

matt presses a kiss to my lips, "go to sleep."

-------------------------------------

@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @ecilphttlunar @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover r r @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @chrisgetsmewetterxo @mattsonly @justalittle47 @mattsturnioloisbae@sunsetsturniolos @sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @pkfferoo @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 @imwetforyourmom m @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @cristiana-heartzzchris @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs s @riowritesitall

[lunajay33]

Save a Horse🍂

Summary: Wandering around in the apocalypse was hell until you came across a a ranch, finding a injured horse you helped it finding the owner and things getting a little heated with an older cowboy

Pairing: Cowboy Negan Smith x f!reader

Warning: Age gap, reader is in 20s Negan is mid 40s, p in v, praise, virginity lose

Inspired by @lanadelnegan stories🤎

•Masterlist•

The apocalypse hit and everything happened so fast, I was with my family at our farm for some time watching the news, listening to the horror stories on the radio, we thought that we could go unscathed since we hadn’t been affected and that all the food and water we needed was on our land but all that changed one night when a hoard of walkers ran down our farm, my parents were first trying to fight of the walkers, quickly being ripped apart their screams still lingered in my head whenever I thought about them, then it was my two sisters trying to flee but got surrounded taking them down as well, I was lucky enough to get to my truck finding an opening in the walkers and driving away from my home, leaving me all alone on the road

Now it’s been 2 years going from place to place just trying to survive, to find a reason to keep living in this cruel world, I’ve been able to dodge as many walkers as I can, that wasn’t the main problem anymore, the food shortage was what dwindled my hope

My truck had broke down a while back so now I’ve just been wandering on foot, walking through the trees trying to get some shade from Georgia summer heat when I hear a groan and thud, I follow the direction of the whines on a left of what have might caused it, walkers, people, god knows what now a days

Rounding a tree I see a horse laying down on the ground, I approached slowly not wanting to spook it having experience with horses back on the farm, kneeling in front of it petting its soft black mane

“Hey girl, what are you doing out here all alone?” She didn’t look injured she was laying down fine, maybe she just got hot it was one of the hottest days I’ve ever lived in even in Georgia

I took out one of the bottles of water I found poring some of it over her face to help cool her down then poring the rest in a bowl I had in my bag and she was quick to drink it

After some time I stood up taking her lead rope trying to get her to stand up, I couldn’t leave her here all alone for some walkers to eat her alive maybe she came from somewhere near by

Walking through the trees she would occasionally change our course more like she was leading me than I was her until we got to a break in the trees, a ranch in perfect condition, a few horses grazing the field, little sheep’s hoping around, a chicken coop and a cozy little cabin like house right in the middle of the land, a brown bronco truck parked out front

Opening the gate, closing it behind me and the horse so the other animals wouldn’t get out like she did somehow, when a deep voice stopped me in my tracks

“See ya brought Missy back, been wondering where she went off to” coming down the porch steps was a older man, cowboy hat, white shirt, blue jeans and boots, maybe it was the lack of human contact or even interactions but damn was he fine, I didn’t realize he was right infront of me till he cleared his throat breaking me out of my oogling

“Oh yeah, I found her out in the woods she must had heat exhaustion so I gave her some water” my stomach feels like it’s in knots, I haven’t felt like this in so long, he’s said a few words and I’m entranced by him

“A nice and pretty girl might just have to keep ya around darling” he smirked making my knees weak, but I still have my values I’m not just going to jump his bones even though the urge is so strong

“Oh I mean if you’re able to take me in I’ll earn my keep, help around the farm, anything I just…..I can’t stay out there alone any longer” I said praying he’d give me a chance, some hope

“Ya sure you know what you’re doing around a farm?” He asked as he looked me up and down, lingering on my chest

“I grew up on a farm, I know what I’m doing”

“Hmmm well come on in, see where you can stay” I let Missy go so she could run off with the others, following him inside, it was bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside, cute kitchen, wooden accents around the house, he kept walking down a hallways till he stopped at a room waiting for me to go in first, it was cozy, I don’t care if this place was trashy as long as I can be stress free and have someone to keep me company

“You like it?” He asked from the doorway

“I love it, thank you” I said as I sit on the bed letting out a long awaited sigh

“How long were you out there?”

“I don’t know time is hard to keep track of out there, maybe 2 years”

“Damn girl, 2 years did you atleast have someone out there?”

“My farm fell early taking my family with it when the walkers came, so it’s just been me until now”

He gave me a pitiful look it made the blood rush to my cheeks

“Come on darlin, supper should be done, should get some food in you” he said waving me out of the room and Im quick to follow him to the kitchen where I sit at the table as he dishes up some food, fresh food something I haven’t had in well forever it feels like

He sits across from me at the table taking his hat of showing his dark brown hair streaked with some grey, biting my lip to stop myself from fantasizing about running my hands through his hair, pulling on it as I feel his beard scratch against my legs

“So what’s your name darlin, like to call you something other than sweet names” he smirks obviously realizing my constant leering but he didn’t make it easy

“I’m fine with your little names but it’s y/n”

“You got a spark still considering how long you’ve been out there, how old are you even?”

“20 you?”

“Let’s just say I’m old enough to be your father”

“Not a problem for me” I said under my breath

A few weeks went by and I did what I said, working hard around the farm, waking up early to collect eggs from the chicken coop, feeding the horses and sheep, picking any ripe berries from the garden all before he was even up, no different from today, I laid berries on our plates and scrambled some eggs finishing right when he comes out of his room, scruffy hair, boxers and a black tank top showing off his tattoos, yes I earned my keep but the tension between us was growing stronger and stronger everyday, every touch, every long night of staying up talking I have to do something about it

“Morning Negan sleep well?” I asked as he sat across from me, our usual spots since that first day

“Great darlin, would’ve been better if you were next to me all night” he smirked, he’d do this tease me and act like it was nothing but it was something to me especially when I’d stay up late at night touching myself thinking of the things he’d say

“Negan you’re driving me crazy you know that” I said chomping on a strawberry

“You think I don’t hear you?”

“What?” My face flushed, please god don’t let it be what I think it is

“At night, when you think I’m fast asleep, I hear you moaning my name, whimpering when you can’t make yourself finish” he said his voice getting deeper as he leaned further across the table

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I gotta go……..go clean up the hay” I said flustered and completely embarrassed standing up and leaving the house to the barn

OH MY GOD this is so embarrassing, he’s heard me touch my self to him what is wrong with me, it’s only been a week and I can’t control myself, maybe because he’s everything I want, strong sexy makes my knees weak and panties wet, plus I have so much pent up sexual frustration, growing up on a farm and not being allowed to date led to me now, a horny 20 year old fantasizing about a man who generously gave me shelter and food, I’m a mess, a horny mess that wants to ride this man all day long

I get to the barn pitchforking any loose straw back into the pile trying to figure out what I’m suppose to do now, how do I face him again after he’s heard me moan his name

“I can hear your crazy thoughts from here darling” I look to the barn door seeing him dressed in blue jeans, cowboy boots, his cowboy hat and a brown plaid

“I can’t take it anymore Negan, obviously you know that now, please just……..”

“Just what baby?” He asks his voice deeper again as he gets closer gripping my waist, his hands alone engulfing me

“Just touch me”

He leans down grabbing the back of my thighs lifting me to straddle his hips, my arms wrapped around his shoulders now face to face

“You sure you can handle this sweetheart?”

“I need it, I need you to fuck me please I’ve been so good” I say as he litters my neck with sloppy kisses

“You have, such a good girl for me, guess you deserve a big reward for that” he smirks as he squeezes my ass, laying my down in the hay pile

“Fuck you got me so hard, you know how hard it was to not bust into your room hearing your sweet moans just begging for me to plow this pussy?” He grips the bottom of my sundress hauling it off over my head leaving me in just my panties, my tits completely exposed

Hearing him groan as his hands roam my body, from my hips up my stomach to caress my tits rubbing his thumbs over them making my panties even more soaked

“That feels so good, doesn’t feel like this *fuck* when I try” I whimper my body feeling like it’s on fire

“No one ever make you feel good darling?” He says as he leaves kitten licks against my nipples feeling like lighting shooting from them to my clit, trying to grind against his thigh between my legs

“No, no one’s ever…..”

“No ones ever touched you, you’re a virgin?” He continues to suck hickeys down my stomach stopping at the hem of my panties

“Only you” I moan needing more

“Don’t worry I’ll make you feel good baby” he removed everything he’d wearing going to throw his hat in the pile of clothes but is top him

“Stop!……keep it on”

“You like cowboys? Wanna take a ride?” He smirks as he pulls down my panties leaving us both naked

“I mean I did save your horse, it’s only right to ride the cowboy” I say as I flip him over to straddle his hips, his dick standing big thick and prominent, he’s really gonna stretch me out good

“Oh ya it’s only right” he laughs squeezing my hips hard as he helps me move them back and forth grinding on his dick getting it wet

“I need it please”

“Take your time darling” he says as he lifts me up so I’m hovering right above him feeling his tip gently pushing against me

I slowly push down feeling the pressure and stretch, it hurt god it was way bigger than my two fingers

“Fuck baby you’re so tight” he grunts

“Is it…….is it all in, you’re so big I don’t know if I can take much more” I moan uncontrollably, all this sexual frustration finally breaking free

“Just a little more, come on be a good girl and take it” he helps push me down the rest of the way till I feel his skin flush against my clit

I sigh I relief that I got it all in but the sting isn’t pleasant

“Take your time cowgirl, wanna get you nice and stretched before you try and ride your cowboy” he laughs as he sits up kissing my neck again and rubbing my clit to help distract the pain

“God I can’t wait” I say gripping his shoulders as I start moving up and down, slowly at first feeling him deeper and deeper each time

“Fuck baby this pussy is gonna be the death of me” I take his hat putting it on holding it with one hand just like I would when riding a mechanical bull, bouncing and gyrating fast and harder and deeper feeling him hit that spot where it makes me see stars and screaming his name over and over as I feel that tension build up in my lower stomach

“Come on cowgirl, cum on my dick, make yourself cum, let it out” he says meeting my thrusts over and over driving even deeper

My hearing goes fuzzy feeling like my whole body is lit up with pleasure, it’s never felt this good before doing it by myself, soon feeling a warm liquid shoot up inside me, dripping down in between us making a sticky hot mess

Coming back down to earth from that mind blowing orgasm I feel his hands roaming up and down my back, his chest pressed against mine

“Did I do it right” I moan biting my lip slowly grinding on him

“Damn darling, that was the best fuck of my life, yeah you did it right, look great doing it to, could get us to this” he says laying back in the hay hands behind his head

I sat up feeling him slide out whining when he popped out his cum dripping onto the hay as I lean down against his chest

“I want more”

“Damn baby girl, they were right good girls really are the most frustrated”

We spent the rest of the day in the barn, him taking me in every position imaginable, everyone better than the last until we were exhausted and my pussy ached so good

“Glad you found my horse that day”

“Me too Negan”

I want this man desperately damn, I’m newish to writing this kind of story so if you got any tips lmk

[lila-lou]

✨Peanut✨

Summary: Stuck in a safe house with Soldier Boy is a test of patience—and nerves. He’s sharp-tongued, cocky, and impossible to ignore, pushing your boundaries just to see you flinch. You try to keep your distance, but he has a way of getting under your skin. You’re supposed to keep him in check, but the real challenge might be keeping yourself together.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, Nickname, Shy!Reader, MENTION!Reader was touched without consent, Ben being as cocky as ever, some kind of fluff i guess

Word Count: 10523 (long ass shit here, lol)

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

The room felt heavy, like the air itself was holding its breath, waiting for him to make the next move. Soldier Boy—Ben, as Butcher had instructed you to call him—sat at the battered wooden table in the middle of the safe house. He was grinding pills into powder with the flat of his knife, muttering to himself, the motion aggressive and precise. Every scrape of the blade against the wood sent shivers down your spine.

You kept your eyes fixed on the television, not really watching whatever rerun was playing. It didn’t matter. Nothing could drown out the weight of his presence. The way he dominated the space even when he wasn’t speaking. Even when he wasn’t looking at you.

You didn’t know why he tolerated you. Out of all the people who’d tried to babysit him since Butcher hauled him out of whatever Russian nightmare he’d been buried in, you were the only one still standing. Maybe it was because you didn’t push him. Or maybe it was because you were too afraid to even try.

Two years ago, your fear of supes had been planted like a landmine in your chest. One night, one supe, one scar across your soul. That was all it took to change you forever. Now, being in the same room as one, especially him, felt like walking barefoot through a minefield. One wrong step, and everything could go to hell. Literally, in his case.

Ben scooped the powder into a neat little line, the corner of his mouth twitching into something that wasn’t quite a smirk. “You don’t have to sit there like a deer in headlights, you know”, he drawled, not looking up. His voice was gravelly, tinged with a roughness that made you want to shrink further into the couch. “Not gonna bite”.

You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around the edge of the couch cushion. “I’m fine here”, you said quickly, your voice thin and brittle.

“Sure you are”. He leaned back in his chair, his shirt unbuttoned enough to show a glimpse of the skin of his chest. That chest. The one that could, and had, turned entire blocks into ash. He tapped his nose twice before snorting the line with practiced ease, sighing as he leaned back again. “You’re terrible at pretending, you know that?”.

Your breath hitched, and you cursed yourself for it. He noticed everything. “Pretending what?”, you muttered, eyes glued to the TV screen.

“That you’re not scared shitless of me”, he said, his tone almost amused now. “It’s cute. Kind of pathetic, but cute”.

Your stomach twisted. The urge to snap back at him rose like bile, but you shoved it down. Provoking him was the last thing you wanted to do. Instead, you focused on keeping your voice steady. “I’m not scared of you”.

Ben laughed—deep, low, and sharp enough to make you flinch. “Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart”.

You clenched your fists, your nails biting into your palms as you tried to keep your breathing even. This was your job. This was what Butcher had asked of you. Watch over him, keep him in line, don’t let him blow anything up. Easier said than done when every fiber of your being was screaming to get the hell out of there.

Ben finally looked at you, his green eyes narrowing slightly. “Relax. I’m not gonna hurt you”. His tone softened—just barely—but it still sent a shiver down your spine. “Not unless you give me a reason to”.

That didn’t exactly inspire confidence, but you nodded anyway, not trusting yourself to speak.

He reached for another pill, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “You know”, he said, his voice quieter now, “it’s exhausting, being treated like a goddamn bomb all the time”.

You blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in his tone. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, his gaze fixed on the table as he rolled the pill between his fingers. For a moment, he almost seemed… human. Vulnerable.

But you didn’t know what to say. Didn’t trust yourself to say anything. So you just stayed where you were, curled up on the couch, watching him out of the corner of your eye and praying you wouldn’t be the one to set him off.

Ben tossed the pill back, swallowing it dry like it was nothing before reaching for the whiskey bottle on the table. He took a swig, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and stood up. For one fleeting second, you thought he might leave the room, give you some space to breathe. But no—he grabbed a bag of popcorn from the counter, ripped it open with his teeth, and made his way to the couch.

You tensed immediately. There were at least three other places he could sit, but no, he dropped himself right beside you. Not just close—touching. His thigh pressed firmly against yours, the heat of him seeping through the fabric of your jeans like a live wire.

Your body locked up, your heart hammering so loud you were sure he could hear it. You didn’t dare move, didn’t dare breathe. If he noticed your discomfort—and of course, he did—he didn’t let on. He shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth, his eyes flicking toward the TV screen before turning to you.

“Whatcha watching?”, he asked casually, his voice a little softer now but still holding that rough, unshakable edge.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. “Just… whatever was on”.

He snorted. “Riveting choice”. Another handful of popcorn disappeared into his mouth, and he leaned back, spreading out like he owned the place. Which, let’s face it, he kind of did. Every room he entered felt like it bent to him, like the walls themselves were trying to make room for him and his ego.

As the minutes dragged on, he kept up the small talk. About the shitty popcorn, the weather, the ancient couch springs that squeaked every time one of you shifted. His tone was light, conversational, but his eyes… his eyes were anything but.

He wasn’t looking at the TV anymore. He was watching you. Really watching you. The way your shoulders hunched in on themselves like you were trying to make yourself smaller. The way your hands fidgeted with the hem of your hoodie. The way your legs were pressed tightly together, like you were trying to disappear into the cushions.

“You’re tiny”, he said abruptly, almost thoughtfully, his gaze dragging up and down your frame. “Like, seriously. How are you even a person? You’re what, a buck twenty soaking wet?”.

You stiffened, your face flushing. “I’m… normal-sized”, you mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes.

He chuckled, low and gravelly, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Normal? Sweetheart, if I even looked at you wrong, you’d probably snap in half”.

Your stomach churned at the words, at the casual way he said them. Like it wasn’t a threat, just a fact. And maybe it was. He wasn’t wrong—he could break you without even trying. Supe or not, he was built like a goddamn tank, and you… well, you weren’t.

His gaze lingered on you, sharp and appraising, like he was trying to figure you out. “What’re you so scared of, huh?”, he asked, his voice quieter now, but no less dangerous. “You think I’m gonna hurt you?”.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. The lump in your throat was too big, your fear too loud.

“Relax, doll”, he said, leaning a little closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “If I wanted to crush you, I wouldn’t need to waste my time sitting here talking to you, now would I?”.

That didn’t make you feel any better. In fact, it made your skin crawl. But you nodded anyway, because what else could you do?

Ben smirked as he leaned back, stretching his arm casually over the back of the couch. He popped another piece of popcorn into his mouth, chewing slowly, his eyes never leaving you.

“So”, he drawled, cocking an eyebrow. “Got a boyfriend, Peanut?”.

The word caught you off guard, and you glanced at him sharply, your confusion momentarily outweighing your fear. “P-Peanut?”, you stammered, the nickname so unexpected it almost made you forget how close he was.

He grinned, his teeth flashing white against his scruffy beard. “Yeah, Peanut. You’re tiny, right? Probably weigh, what, eighty-five? Ninety pounds tops? I could pick you up with one hand, and you’d barely be a snack”. He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling, like he found the whole thing hilarious. “Peanut fits”.

Your face burned with embarrassment, but you didn’t say anything. What could you say? He wasn’t exactly wrong, but hearing it said out loud—especially by him—made you feel smaller than ever. You tucked your legs up under you, trying to create some kind of barrier between his imposing presence and your body.

“C’mon”, he said, his voice lighter now, teasing almost. “You seriously don’t have some guy waiting around for you? Someone to take care of you? Feels like you’d need a bodyguard just to make it through the grocery store”.

You shook your head, your voice barely audible. “No boyfriend”.

He tilted his head, studying you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. “Huh. Surprising. A thing like you? I’d think guys would be lining up”.

His words weren’t comforting. They weren’t meant to be. They carried an undertone that made your stomach twist, a reminder of how easily he could take you if he wanted to. You shifted uncomfortably, pulling your hoodie tighter around yourself like it could somehow shield you from the heat of his gaze.

“What’s the matter, Peanut?”, he asked. “I’m just making conversation. You don’t have to look so freaked out all the time”.

“I’m not freaked out”, you lied, your voice trembling just enough to betray you.

He snorted, clearly not buying it. “Sure you’re not”. He leaned forward suddenly, resting his elbows on his knees, bringing himself closer to you. The smell of whiskey and faint cigar smoke clung to him, mingling with something sharper, something distinctly him.

“I’m not gonna hurt you. Told you already, didn’t I?”.

You nodded again, but the tension in your body didn’t ease. If anything, it grew worse as his eyes traveled over you again, lingering in ways that made you want to sink into the couch and disappear.

“Man”, he muttered, shaking his head. “You’re wound up tighter than a fucking spring”. He reached for the popcorn bag again, the casual motion a stark contrast to the intensity of his words. “I don’t know what the hell Butcher was thinking, sticking me with you. You’re not exactly intimidating”.

You bristled at that, a tiny flicker of indignation breaking through your fear. “I wasn’t supposed to intimidate you”, you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m just… here to keep an eye on you”.

He laughed—loud and abrupt, the sound startling in the otherwise quiet room. “You’re supposed to keep an eye on me?”. He leaned back again, throwing one arm across the back of the couch again and grinning down at you like he’d just heard the best joke of his life. “Fuck. That’s rich”.

You didn’t respond, biting your lip to keep the words locked in. You couldn’t afford to snap, couldn’t afford to give him a reason to escalate. Not with how close he was. Not with how easily he could overpower you.

Ben’s laugh faded into a low hum, almost as if he were talking to himself, but the words were loud enough to reach you. “You know”, he muttered, swirling the last of the whiskey in the bottle before setting it on the floor, “I could help you relax. You’re all wound up like a little bird that flew into the wrong fucking cage”.

The comment made your stomach tighten, your pulse spiking as you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. His gaze wasn’t on the TV. It wasn’t even on the popcorn anymore. It was on you. Slowly, deliberately, like he was working through some kind of internal checklist, his eyes dragged from your face, to your neck, to the way your hoodie hugged your body.

“Yeah”, he said, his voice dropping lower, rougher.

“I’d probably crush you. Tiny little thing like you. But…”. He leaned his head back against the couch, as though considering something deeply. “I could figure it out. Work on my self-restraint”. He exhaled sharply through his nose, almost like a laugh, but it didn’t carry any humor. “Not sure you’d survive, though”.

Your throat went dry, and your mind raced for something—anything—to say to steer the conversation somewhere less terrifying. But the words wouldn’t come. It was like your brain had shut down entirely, overwhelmed by the weight of his presence and the dark, unsettling undertone to his words.

“I mean, shit”, he went on, almost lazily, like he was just idly musing. “It’d be a tight fit, no doubt about that. But I’d manage”. He turned his head toward you, one eyebrow quirking as though he was waiting for some kind of reaction. “What d’you think, Peanut? Think you could handle me?”.

Your heart felt like it might explode. You shifted slightly, trying to put even an inch of space between you, but the couch offered no escape. He noticed, of course he noticed, and the smirk on his face only widened.

“Relax”, he said again, though this time it sounded more like a command than a suggestion. “I’m just messing with you”. He leaned back again, popping another piece of popcorn into his mouth like the last thirty seconds hadn’t just happened.

But the tension in the air didn’t dissipate. His words lingered, sinking into your mind like oil, staining everything. You didn’t dare move, didn’t dare breathe too loudly, your entire body coiled as tightly as a spring.

Ben glanced at you again, his expression unreadable now, the grin gone. “You really gotta lighten up, Peanut”, he said, almost absently. “You’re making me feel like a fucking monster”.

You wanted to tell him he wasn’t making it easy. That his very presence was suffocating. That every word out of his mouth only fed the gnawing pit of fear in your stomach. But you couldn’t. So you stayed silent, staring at the TV and praying that he’d get bored soon. That the night would end without him pushing any further.

Ben shifted slightly on the couch, the springs groaning under his weight. He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling as if lost in thought, but you could feel his attention still anchored on you, heavy and unrelenting.

“You know”, he started, his voice low and casual, “I heard Butcher and that cum-guzzler talking about you”. He popped another piece of popcorn into his mouth, chewing slowly as though giving himself time to savor the words that would follow. “Something about why you’re so jumpy around supes”.

Your heart clenched, and you went rigid. You hadn’t realized Butcher had told him—why would he? What purpose would it serve, giving Soldier Boy ammunition? You glanced at him sharply, trying to gauge his intentions, but his expression was frustratingly neutral, save for the slight quirk of a smirk playing on his lips.

He chuckled, low and gravelly, shaking his head. “Can’t say I blame you”, he continued. “Sounds like you had a real shitty time of it. Some asshole supe gets a little too handsy, decides he’s owed something just because he’s got powers. That about right?”.

The knot in your stomach tightened, but you didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Your throat felt like it was closing, the weight of his words pulling every horrible memory to the surface.

Ben didn’t seem to need a response. He let out a long breath, his smirk fading as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees again. “Here’s the thing, Peanut”, he said, his tone quieter now, almost contemplative. “Guys like that… they give the rest of us a bad name. Not that I give a shit about my reputation, but, you know, principle and all that”.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “Why… why are you bringing this up?”.

He shrugged, the motion casual, but the intensity in his eyes betrayed him. “Just thinking out loud. If that’s the only experience you’ve got with supes… well, no wonder you’re scared shitless. That’s the memory you’re stuck with”. His gaze slid to you, sharp and probing. “But maybe I could fix that”.

“Fix it?”, you echoed, your voice trembling. “What… what does that mean?”.

He smirked again, leaning back and stretching his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing just a hair’s breadth away from your shoulder. “I’m just saying”, he drawled, “maybe if you had a different kind of experience, you wouldn’t be so fucking scared all the time. Replace that shitty memory with a fucking awesome one”.

The implication in his words was crystal clear, and your stomach churned violently. Your fingers curled into the fabric of your hoodie, your nails digging into your palms. “That’s not…”. You trailed off, your voice barely above a whisper. “That’s not how it works”.

He tilted his head, studying you with a mixture of amusement and something darker. “You sure about that? Sometimes all it takes is one good memory to wipe out the bad. One moment to make you forget the rest of the bullshit”.

You shook your head, your pulse hammering in your ears. “I don’t think—”.

“Calm down, Peanut”, he interrupted, his voice dropping into that low, commanding tone again. “I’m not saying I’d do anything. Unless, you know, you wanted me to”.

Your breath hitched, and you pressed yourself further into the couch, as if the cushions could somehow swallow you whole. His gaze was piercing, unrelenting, and you could feel the weight of his words pressing down on you, suffocating.

“But hey”, he continued after a moment, his tone lightening again as he grabbed another handful of popcorn. “It’s your call. I’m just saying… I could make it worth your while”.

You didn’t respond, couldn’t respond. Your mind was racing, your body frozen in place.

The safe house was quiet except for the distant hum of the water running in the bathroom. Ben was in the shower, and you were stuck on the couch, your nerves coiled tighter than ever. It had been weeks since that first night, weeks of this strange, unbearable dance between the two of you. He hadn’t pushed things too far, but he hadn’t stopped either. The teasing, the lingering touches, the weight of his gaze—it was constant, suffocating, impossible to ignore.

And now, as you sat there waiting for him, you hated yourself for the stupid summer dress you’d chosen to wear. It was hot, unbearably so, and the safe house didn’t have air conditioning. The dress had seemed like a practical choice at the time—lightweight, easy to move in—but now it felt like a mistake. The fabric clung to your skin and you couldn’t help but feel exposed. Vulnerable.

You shifted uncomfortably, pulling the dress down as far as it would go and wrapping your arms around yourself. It didn’t help. The room felt stifling, and the faint sound of the shower only added to the tension. You couldn’t stop your mind from wandering, couldn’t stop the little voice whispering in the back of your head: What’s he going to say this time? What’s he going to do?

The shower shut off, and your breath caught. You stared at the TV, not really seeing it, your heart pounding as you heard the sound of the bathroom door creaking open.

Moments later, Ben emerged, a towel slung low around his hips and his hair damp, water droplets trailing down his chest. He was a vision of raw power and confidence, and he knew it. The smirk tugging at his lips told you as much.

“Hey, Peanut”, he said casually, like this was the most normal thing in the world. He grabbed a second towel and ran it through his hair, his muscles flexing with the motion. “Didn’t think I’d keep you waiting, did you?”.

You swallowed hard, your eyes darting back to the TV. “I wasn’t—”, you started, but your voice faltered. “I mean, I’m fine”.

“Sure you are”, he said, chuckling under his breath. He crossed the room, tossing the towel onto a chair as he made his way to the couch. You felt his presence before you saw him, the heat of him, the sheer weight of him, as he sat down beside you. Close. Too close. Again.

His eyes flicked to your dress, lingering for just a moment before he leaned back, draping his arm over the back of the couch. “Nice dress”, he commented, his tone light but his gaze sharp. “Didn’t know we were getting all dressed up today”.

Your face burned, and you tugged at the hem again, wishing it were longer. “It’s just… it’s hot”, you muttered, refusing to meet his eyes.

“That it is”, he agreed, his smirk widening. “But you didn’t have to go all out for me, Peanut. A little effort goes a long way, though, so… thanks”.

You clenched your jaw, your hands twisting the fabric of the dress in your lap. “I didn’t—”.

“I’m just messing with you. Don’t get so wound up”, his voice dropping into that familiar, teasing drawl.

You wanted to snap back, wanted to tell him to knock it off, but you couldn’t. You just sat there, frozen, your heart pounding as he shifted slightly closer, the edge of his thigh brushing against yours.

The problem wasn’t just that you were afraid of Ben anymore—though that fear was still there, lurking beneath every breath, every glance, every word. The problem was that, over the past few weeks, something else had crept in, something worse.

Attraction.

You hated yourself for it. Hated the way your pulse quickened when he smirked at you, the way your thoughts lingered on his voice, deep and rough like gravel underfoot. And now, as you sat beside him, that stupid towel slung so dangerously low on his hips, it was taking everything you had to keep your eyes on the TV.

But you failed. Of course, you did. Your gaze flicked toward him out of the corner of your eye, drawn like a moth to a flame. The towel clung to his hips precariously, the line of dark hair below his navel trailing downward, disappearing beneath the fabric. And lower—your breath hitched—the outline of him was visible, faint but undeniable.

You quickly looked away, your cheeks burning, your heart hammering in your chest. What the hell is wrong with me? you thought, biting the inside of your cheek so hard it almost hurt. This was Soldier Boy. Ben. The same man who teased you relentlessly, who could crush you without a second thought. A damn supe. And yet…

“You’re quiet, Peanut”, he said suddenly, his voice breaking through your frantic thoughts. His tone was casual, but you knew better than to believe it wasn’t deliberate. He always knew how to needle you just enough to get under your skin. “I mean, you’re always quiet, but today? What’s the deal?”.

You didn’t respond, your throat too dry to form a coherent excuse. You tried to keep your eyes locked on the TV, pretending to focus on the images flickering across the screen. But you could feel him watching you, the heat of his gaze sliding over your profile, lingering far too long for comfort.

“C’mon”, he pressed, his voice dropping an octave, rich and deep enough to make your stomach do an unwelcome flip. “You’re the only action I’ve got in this shithole they’re hiding me in. Least you could do is talk to me. I’m bored as hell over here”.

Your hands twisted in your lap, gripping the fabric of your dress like it was the only thing anchoring you to reality. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, not with the way his words made your skin flush and your heart pound.

“I don’t know what to say”, you mumbled finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ben leaned back against the couch, his towel shifting just slightly. “You don’t have to say much, Peanut”, he drawled, his smirk audible in his tone. “Just give me something. Anything. Hell, even a complaint about how much you hate being stuck with me. I know you’ve got those”.

You glanced at him for just a split second, and that was your mistake. He was sprawled out, all lazy confidence, the towel still clinging low on his hips, the light from the TV casting faint shadows over his chest. The sight made your stomach twist, and you quickly looked away again, your cheeks burning.

“I don’t hate you”, you blurted out, immediately regretting it.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Don’t you now?”. His smirk deepened, and he leaned in just slightly, the arm draped over the back of the couch brushing your shoulder. “Could’ve fooled me with the way you can’t even look at me half the time”.

You swallowed hard, your fingers knotting into the hem of your dress. “I just…”, you stammered, unsure how to explain without giving away too much. “You make me nervous”.

Ben tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost curious. “Nervous, huh?”, he repeated, his voice quieter now, like he was mulling over the word. “Why? You still think I’m gonna hurt you?”.

“No”, you said quickly, though the fear still lingered at the edges of your mind. “It’s not that”.

“Then what?”, he asked, his tone deceptively gentle, but his gaze was sharp, unrelenting. “What is it about me that’s got you so wound up?”.

You didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. Your silence only seemed to amuse him further. He let out a low chuckle, leaning back again, his fingers lightly drumming against the armrest.

“Shit, Peanut”, he muttered, shaking his head. “You’re like a puzzle I can’t quite figure out. Makes me want to push, see how far you’ll bend before you break”.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, but you forced yourself to keep your breathing steady, to keep your focus anywhere but on him. You didn’t know how much longer you could keep this up, this fragile pretense of calm, but you knew one thing for sure: he wasn’t going to let this go. Not tonight.

The tension in the room was suffocating, and you couldn’t take it anymore. Your hands trembled as you placed them on your thighs, pushing yourself up from the couch. “I… I need some water”, you mumbled, not daring to look at him. You didn’t wait for his response—if he even had one—and walked quickly toward the little kitchen tucked into the corner of the safe house.

Your footsteps felt too loud against the worn wooden floor, the tiny kitchen offering no real reprieve from his presence. You grabbed a glass from the cupboard, your fingers trembling slightly as you filled it from the tap. You told yourself the sound of running water would drown out the pounding of your heart, but it didn’t.

The quiet click of his footsteps behind you made you freeze.

“Thirsty, huh?”, Ben’s voice came from far too close, his tone casual but laced with that ever-present teasing edge. He was right behind you now—you could feel him, his heat radiating like a furnace, the space between you barely a breath.

“I just needed some space”, you said, your voice quiet and shaky, gripping the glass like it was a lifeline.

“Space?”, he echoed, like the word was foreign to him. You heard him shift, his hand brushing lightly against the counter as he leaned against it. “Still can’t handle being near me?”.

You froze, the glass trembling slightly in your hands as you felt him step even closer. His body was right behind yours now, close enough that you could feel the faint brush of his chest against your back every time you shifted.

“You look really pretty today”, he murmured, his voice softer now, quieter, but no less unsettling. His words sent a shiver racing down your spine, and you gripped the glass tighter, your knuckles turning white.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against your hair, playing with a loose strand like it was the most natural thing in the world. The movement was slow, deliberate, as if he were testing your reaction.

“Didn’t think a little dress like that could make someone so…”. He trailed off, his fingers gently tucking the strand behind your ear from behind, his touch warm against your skin. “Sweet. You do surprise me, Peanut”.

Your heart pounded, your breath catching in your throat. “Ben, please…”, you whispered, barely able to get the words out. You didn’t know what you were asking for—for him to stop, to step back, to leave you alone—but your voice carried the weight of your unease.

“Oh c'mon now”, he murmured, his tone dipping into that low, velvety register that always made your stomach twist. “I’m just saying you look nice. No harm in that, right?”.

His hand lingered for a moment longer, brushing lightly against your shoulder, before he stepped back just enough to give you a fraction of space. But it didn’t feel like enough. The air around you still felt heavy, charged with his presence.

“You don’t take compliments well, do you?”, he asked, the faintest hint of amusement in his voice as he leaned casually against the counter. “What’s so scary about me telling you you’re pretty?”.

“Nothing”, you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ben’s gaze dropped, shamelessly traveling down your body. You could feel it, the weight of his eyes lingering on your legs. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips, and you caught the faint movement out of the corner of your eye. It sent a fresh wave of heat through your face, your stomach twisting into knots.

“You know”, he murmured, his voice low and teasing, almost contemplative, “it’s been quite a while for me.” He leaned a little closer, his arm brushing lightly against yours as he rested it on the counter beside you. “And with you here, looking like that, acting all shy and innocent…”.

He trailed off, his smirk widening as his gaze dragged back up to meet yours. “It’s really hard for me, Peanut”.

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and your breath caught in your throat. Your grip tightened on the edge of the counter, your knuckles white as you fought to keep yourself grounded. “Ben, stop”, you said softly, your voice barely audible, but there was a tremble in it you couldn’t hide.

“Stop what?”, he asked innocently, though the glint in his eyes betrayed him. He wasn’t innocent, not even close. “I’m just being honest. You don’t want me to lie, do you?”.

You turned your head to look at him, your heart pounding as you met his gaze. His smirk was maddening, equal parts charming and infuriating, and the way he was looking at you—like he was sizing you up, deciding just how far he could push—made your pulse race for all the wrong reasons.

“I’m not… I’m not doing anything”, you stammered, your words tumbling over themselves. “I’m just—”.

“Just standing there, looking all sweet and pretty”, he interrupted, his tone playful. He straightened slightly, his height and presence towering over you as he leaned a little closer. “You have no idea, do you? How hard you make it for me to keep my hands to myself?”.

Your breath hitched, and you stepped back instinctively, the counter digging into your lower back as you put as much distance between you as you could in the small space. But he didn’t move closer—he just stayed there, watching you, his smirk softening into something almost… curious.

Ben’s smirk deepened as he watched you, his eyes narrowing slightly, like he was peeling back every layer of your defenses. “You know”, he murmured, his voice soft but still carrying that teasing edge, “I think you actually like me, Peanut”.

Your eyes widened at his words, and you shook your head quickly, your back pressing harder against the counter. “That’s not true”, you said, your voice trembling with the effort to sound convincing.

But he didn’t seem fazed. If anything, your reaction only amused him more. His hand darted out, slow and deliberate, resting gently on your hip. It wasn’t forceful, wasn’t threatening—it was almost careful, like he was testing the waters, giving you a chance to stop him.

Your breath hitched, and your body tensed under his touch. The heat of his palm burned through the thin fabric of your dress, the weight of his hand grounding you and overwhelming you all at once.

“You’re not pushing me away”, he said softly, his voice dropping lower, more intimate. His fingers flexed slightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you he was there. “That’s gotta count for something”.

You opened your mouth to say something, to deny it, to tell him he was wrong, but no words came out. You were frozen, caught in the weight of his gaze, the closeness of him, the way his presence consumed every inch of space around you.

His other hand came up slowly, brushing against a strand of hair that had fallen into your face. He tucked it behind your ear, his touch featherlight, his green eyes locking onto yours. “You keep telling yourself you’re scared of me”, he murmured, his tone quiet, almost tender. “But I think you’re scared of something else”.

“Ben, I…”. Your voice cracked, and you trailed off, your hands clutching the edge of the counter like it was the only thing keeping you upright.

“Shh”, he whispered, his hand on your hip shifting just slightly, his thumb brushing against the curve of your waist. “You don’t have to say anything, Peanut. Not if you don’t want to”.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was your uneven breathing, the faint hum of the refrigerator in the corner. His touch wasn’t rough or demanding, but it was firm, grounding, impossible to ignore.

And then, slowly, he leaned in, his face close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. “Just… Push me away if you want me to stop. Promise I won´t be mad”, he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his lips so close to yours you could feel the ghost of their presence.

Your heart pounded, your mind racing with conflicting emotions—fear, confusion, and something far more dangerous bubbling beneath the surface. You hated how much you craved his attention, hated how much his touch made your body betray you. But even as you stood there, frozen, his words echoed in your mind: Push me away.

Would you? Could you?

The choice was yours.

Bot you didn’t push him away. You stayed still, your breath hitching as Ben’s smirk deepened. He took your silence as permission—or maybe just a challenge he was eager to win.

Without a word, his hands slid more firmly around your waist. Before you could even process what was happening, he lifted you effortlessly, like you weighed nothing. The glass of water slipped from your fingers, landing with a dull clink on the counter as he set you down atop it. The cool surface against the back of your thighs made you shiver, but it was nothing compared to the heat radiating from him.

He stepped closer, pressing himself between your legs, his movements deliberate and unyielding. Your legs opened instinctively to accommodate him, the fabric of your dress sliding up as you shifted. The hem bunched high on your thighs, and your stomach dropped when you realized how exposed you were. The little triangle of fabric between your legs was on full display, and Ben’s gaze dropped to it immediately, his lips curling into a wolfish grin.

“Well, would you look at that”, he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, the faintest edge of amusement making it all the more dangerous. His hands trailed down to your knees, his thumbs brushing against the inside of your thighs, sending a shock of warmth through your body. “Peanut, you’ve been holding out on me”.

You squirmed, your hands gripping the edge of the counter as if it could anchor you against the storm of his presence. “Ben…”, you whispered, your voice trembling, unsure if it was a plea for him to stop or to keep going.

“Shh”, he said softly, his hands sliding higher, spreading your legs further apart. “I told you, I’m not gonna hurt you”.

But the way he looked at you—the hunger in his eyes, the possessive way his hands claimed your body—made your pulse race for entirely different reasons. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your neck as he pressed his hips against yours, his body firm and unyielding.

“You have no idea”, he whispered, his voice rough and thick with desire. “No idea how hard it’s been. Watching you, waiting for you to stop running, stop hiding. But now…”. His lips brushed against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Now I’ve got you right where I want you”.

Your heart pounded, your mind spinning as his hands continued their slow, deliberate exploration of your body. You hated how your body reacted to him, how the heat pooled low in your belly, how your breathing quickened despite yourself. Hated how much you wanted him, even when you knew you shouldn’t.

And Ben—he knew it, too. You could see it in his smirk, in the way his eyes burned with triumph. He was in control, and he knew it. You wanted him, and that he sure knew too.

Ben’s smirk deepened as his hands slid higher, his thumbs brushing teasingly against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. His touch was firm but not rough, as if he were savoring every moment. He leaned back slightly to get a better look, his eyes darkening as they locked onto the little triangle of fabric barely covering you.

“You know”, he murmured, his voice low and full of heat, “I’ve been imagining this for weeks. But it’s even better than I thought”.

You opened your mouth to respond—to say something—but the words caught in your throat once more as he hooked a finger under the fabric. His gaze flicked up to meet yours, a wicked gleam in his green eyes as he gave you - again - just enough time to stop him.

But you didn’t.

With a sharp, controlled movement, he ripped the delicate material apart, the sound of tearing fabric echoing in the quiet kitchen. The force of it sent a jolt through your body, but it didn’t hurt. It was more of a shock—both from the action itself and the way his eyes devoured the sight before him.

Your breath hitched as the ruined panties fell away, leaving you bare to him. His hands stilled for a moment, his gaze fixated on your glistening, perfectly shaven lips. A low growl rumbled in his throat, his fingers tightening ever so slightly on your thighs.

”Fuck peanut”, he muttered, his voice rough with desire. “Look at you”.

Ben’s grip on your thighs tightened as his eyes darkened, roaming over every inch of you like you were something he was about to own. He let out a low, gravelly chuckle, shaking his head with that familiar smirk—cocky and unapologetically lewd.

“Is this what chicks are doing these days? All shaved, all fucking spotless?”. His thumb traced lazily along your inner thigh, teasing just close enough to make you squirm. “In the ’80s, everyone had a damn jungle down here. Didn’t matter who you were, movie star or some chick at a dive bar—hair everywhere. But this?”.

His thumb slid lower, brushing over the seam of your closed, glistening lips. The slickness made his touch effortless, his rough hands stark against your softness. “This is a whole fucking upgrade”, he murmured, almost to himself, his tone filthy and raw. “Smooth as hell… fuck Peanut, you’re like a fucking dream”.

Ben’s eyes stayed glued between your legs, completely enthralled, like he was witnessing something unreal. The pad of his thumb pressed further, parting your slick lips with almost lazy confidence. He slid it down to your entrance, where he paused, testing the way your body reacted to him.

“Fuck me”, he muttered under his breath, his voice gravelly and thick with lust. “You’re soaked, Peanut. Look at this. Look at you”.

Your breath hitched audibly, your chest rising and falling as his thumb pressed lightly against your entrance, his other hand tightening its grip on your thigh to keep you exactly where he wanted you. His touch was slow, deliberate, like he was savoring the moment.

“You’re fucking perfect”, he murmured, half to himself.

Ben’s thumb dipped just barely inside you, and the moment he felt how tight you were, he froze. His breath hitched, a low, guttural groan escaping his lips as he pulled his hand back. His grip on your thigh tightened, grounding himself as he muttered under his breath, “No fucking way. Not with my fingers. I’m not wasting this on anything but my dick”.

His green eyes flicked up to meet yours, filled with a dark hunger that sent a shiver racing down your spine. He took a deep breath, his smirk returning as he dragged his hands up the outside of your thighs, pushing the fabric of your dress higher as he went.

“You’re something else, Peanut”, he growled, his voice thick and unapologetically filthy. “This body, this tight little hole… it’s all mine”.

He grabbed the hem of your dress, tugging it upward with slow, deliberate movements, giving you every chance to stop him. But you didn’t. Instead, you lifted your arms instinctively, your breath catching in your throat as you helped him pull the dress over your head. The fabric slipped away easily, pooling on the floor beside the counter, leaving you bare except for your trembling body beneath his gaze.

Ben stepped back slightly, just enough to take you in, his eyes roaming over every inch of your exposed skin with raw, unfiltered desire. He let out a low whistle, his lips curving into a grin that was both predatory and approving.

“You’re even better than I imagined”. His hands moved back to your waist, firm and possessive as he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter, positioning you exactly where he wanted you.

“You don’t even realize, do you?”, he muttered, his hands trailing over your hips, your stomach, your thighs, like he couldn’t get enough of touching you. “How fucking perfect you are. How fucking lucky I am”.

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he growled, “I told you, Peanut. You’re mine now. Every inch of you”.

With one swift motion, Ben pulled the towel from his hips and tossed it carelessly to the side, revealing himself fully. Your eyes widened the moment you saw him—huge, heavy, and impossibly intimidating. A gasp escaped your lips before you could stop it, and you instinctively pressed your hands against his chest, trying to push him away.

But he didn’t budge.

Your heart raced, panic and uncertainty flooding your senses. You weren’t a virgin, but this… this was different. The sheer size of him made your stomach twist with both fear and something else you didn’t want to name.

“Whoa there, Peanut”, Ben murmured, his voice low and teasing, but there was a glint of smug satisfaction in his eyes as he glanced down at himself, then back at you. “Scared already? Thought you said you weren’t afraid of me”.

“I just…”, you stammered, your palms pressing harder against his chest, but he didn’t move. He stood there, unyielding, his muscles firm under your touch as he watched you with that same maddening smirk.

“Relax”, he said again, his tone dipping into that familiar mix of amusement and raw lust.

Your voice came out in a shaky whisper, your eyes wide and fixed on him. “This… this won’t fit. No way”.

Ben’s smirk deepened, the gleam in his eyes turning even more smug, like your fear only fed his ego. He let out a low chuckle, his broad chest rumbling under your trembling hands. “Won’t fit, huh?”, he repeated, his tone dripping with amusement. “You really think I’d let that stop me?”.

Your breath hitched, your fingers curling slightly against his chest as you tried to pull back, but his hands on your hips held you firmly in place. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a low, gravelly whisper. “Don’t sell yourself short, Peanut. You’ll take it. You just need a little… encouragement”.

Your stomach twisted at his words, a mix of fear and heat flooding your senses. “Ben, I—”, you started, but he cut you off, his hands sliding slowly up your sides, strong and possessive.

“I’ll make it fit”, he murmured, his voice low and dripping with confidence.

One of his hands moved between your bodies, and your breath hitched as he grabbed himself, his cock heavy and intimidating in his hand. His green eyes flicked up to yours briefly, watching your reaction.

“Just.. relax, Peanut”, he said softly, almost mockingly, as he positioned himself. “This is gonna feel real good. Trust me”.

You bit your lip hard as you felt the tip of him slide through your slick lips, the slow, deliberate motion making your body jolt with unexpected pleasure. The contrast of his roughness and your softness was overwhelming, your hips twitching instinctively as his thick head dragged against you.

“Fuck”, he muttered under his breath, his eyes locked on where your bodies touched. “You’re already soaking for me. You feel that, Peanut? That’s your body telling you it wants this. Wants me”.

A shaky whimper escaped your lips, and you hated yourself for the sound, for how much you wanted him. The warmth, the pressure, the way he moved—it was too much, too intense, too consuming.

Ben chuckled, his thumb brushing over your thigh as he kept guiding himself against you, letting his tip tease your entrance but not pushing in just yet. “Look at you”, he muttered. “Already whining, and I haven’t even given you the real thing yet”.

You bit your lip harder, trying to stifle another whimper. His free hand slid up your side, gripping your waist possessively as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Don’t hold back now, Peanut", he growled. “I want to hear every little sound you make. Wanna know how much you’re feeling this”.

The heat pooling low in your belly was unbearable, your body trembling as he continued his slow, torturous motions. He wasn’t even inside you yet, but the weight of him was enough to leave you breathless.

Ben’s cocky smirk softened just slightly as he began to nudge himself inside you, his movements surprisingly slow and deliberate. He pressed forward an inch at a time, giving you room to adjust to his size. His hands gripped your hips firmly, keeping you steady as he worked himself in, his gaze locked on your face.

“Fuck, Peanut”, he muttered under his breath, the usual arrogance in his tone giving way to something deeper, rougher. “Tight as hell. I knew you’d feel good, but this? Fuck”.

You winced at the stretch, your body instinctively tensing around him as he pushed in further. The sensation was intense, overwhelming, and you couldn’t help the soft whimper that escaped your lips.

“Shh”, he murmured, his voice low and almost soothing as he paused, letting you adjust. “I know, baby. It’s a lot. But you’re doing good. So fucking good”.

Your hands gripped his forearms, your nails digging into his skin as he slid another inch deeper, the burn of the stretch making you gasp. “Ben”, you whispered, your voice trembling, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

“I’ve got you”, he said, his voice steady and firm, his thumbs rubbing small circles against your skin in a rare gesture of comfort. “You’ll get used to it. Just breathe”.

You tried to focus on his words, on the way he moved so slowly, giving you time to adjust to every inch of him. The stretch was still intense, still bordering on too much, but as he eased in further, your body began to relax, the pain giving way to a different kind of pressure.

“That’s it”, he murmured, his lips quirking into a small smirk as he watched you. “See? I told you you’d take it, Peanut”.

You couldn’t form a response, your breath hitching again as he pushed in another inch. He groaned softly, his head falling forward briefly, his self-control evident in the way his muscles tensed under your touch.

Your body trembled, the overwhelming fullness leaving you unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. He stayed still, his hands firm on your hips, his gaze softening just slightly as he gave you a moment to adjust.

“You’re doing so good, Peanut”, he said, his voice low and almost gentle, though the hunger in his eyes hadn’t faded. “Just a little more, and then I’ll make you feel real fucking good. I promise”.

Ben pushed in further, inch by inch, until he finally bottomed out, his hips pressing flush against yours. The sheer fullness, the stretch, was almost too much, and a breathless moan escaped your lips, mixed with a high-pitched whine that you couldn’t suppress. The sound seemed to drive him wild.

“Fuck”, Ben groaned, his head dropping forward to rest against your collarbone as his hands tightened on your hips. His breathing was ragged, and his entire body seemed to tense as he fought to keep himself in check. “You feel… Fuck, Peanut. You’re so fucking tight”.

You trembled under him, your hands instinctively clutching his broad shoulders as you tried to adjust to the overwhelming sensation of him filling you completely. He was so big, stretching you to your limits, and every inch of him pressed against places you didn’t even know could feel like this.

“Ben”, you whispered, your voice shaky, unsure if you were pleading for him to move or to give you more time to adjust.

“I know, baby”, he muttered, his voice gravelly and low, muffled against your skin. “I know. Just… fuck, just give me a second”. He groaned again, a deep, primal sound that vibrated through your chest, his hands gripping your waist like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

“You’re perfect”, he murmured, lifting his head slightly to press his forehead against yours. His green eyes burned into yours, dark with lust and something deeper, something almost reverent. “Fucking perfect. You don’t even know what you’re doing to me”.

You let out a shaky breath, your body slowly relaxing more around him as he stayed still, letting you adjust to the fullness. His hands moved to cradle your thighs, spreading you wider as he groaned softly again, his lips brushing against your jawline.

“Breathe, Peanut”, he said, his voice softening for a moment as his thumbs rubbed gentle circles into your skin. “Just breathe. You’re taking me so damn well”.

The praise sent a rush of warmth through your body, making you shiver against him. Slowly, he began to pull back just an inch, testing, watching your reaction with sharp, hungry eyes. The drag of him against your sensitive walls made your breath hitch, and his smirk returned as he groaned again.

“Yeah”, he growled, his voice thick as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’re gonna love this, Peanut. I’ll make sure of it”.

Ben groaned deeply as he began to move, the drag of his length against your tight walls slow and deliberate. He pulled back just enough to make you feel every inch before sinking back in, his hips pressing flush against yours once more. The stretch still made you wince, but the intensity of the sensation was quickly mingling with something warmer, something almost unbearable.

“Shit”, he muttered against your collarbone, his breath hot and ragged. His lips grazed your skin, his teeth scraping lightly as he fought to keep his pace measured. “You’re squeezing me so damn tight. Like you were fucking made for me”.

A breathless whimper escaped you as he thrust again, a little deeper, a little harder. The fullness was still overwhelming, but with every slow, calculated movement, your body started to adjust, to mold to him. Your nails dug into his shoulders, and he smirked against your skin, clearly enjoying the way you clung to him.

Ben’s thrusts grew harder, his hips snapping into yours with more purpose, more force. The sound of your bodies meeting filled the room, raw and intimate, but you bit your lip, desperate to keep quiet.

But Ben noticed. Of course, he noticed.

“Peanut”, he growled, his voice low and commanding, roughened by pleasure. He angled his hips just slightly, hitting a spot that made your back arch involuntarily. “Don’t you fucking hold back on me”.

A soft whimper escaped you, and his smirk returned, wicked and dangerous. “That’s more like it”, he muttered, his hands gripping your hips even tighter as he thrust again, harder this time. “I want to hear you. Every. Fucking. Sound”.

You clenched your teeth, your nails digging harder into his shoulders as you fought to keep quiet, but it was no use. His pace was relentless now, each movement deliberate, dragging pleasure and desperation out of you with every stroke.

“C’mon, baby”, he murmured, leaning in close, his lips brushing against your ear. “Don’t be shy. I want to hear how much you love this. Want to hear you beg me for more”.

You shook your head weakly, trying to resist, but when he thrust again, deeper than before, a moan slipped past your lips, raw and unrestrained. Ben groaned in response, the sound rough and guttural as he rocked into you harder.

“Fuck, that’s it”, he growled, his teeth scraping against your neck as he buried himself to the hilt again. “That’s the sound I’ve been waiting for. Knew you couldn’t stay quiet forever”.

Your breath hitched as he moved faster, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. His hands moved up to grip your waist, holding you steady as he claimed every inch of you, his lips grazing your skin as he spoke again.

“You feel that?”, he muttered, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Feel how perfectly you’re taking me? That tight little body of yours was made for this, Peanut. Made for me”.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, your soft moans turning into desperate whimpers as he pushed you further and further. His words, his touch, the sheer intensity of him—it was too much, too overwhelming. And Ben—he soaked in every sound, every tremble, every gasp, his grin widening as he kept driving into you like he couldn’t get enough.

“That’s my girl”, he murmured, his hands sliding up to cup your face as his eyes locked onto yours. “Now stop holding back and let me hear it all”.

Ben could feel it—the way your body tightened around him, your walls fluttering as you approached the edge. His pace didn’t falter; if anything, it became sharper, more deliberate, each thrust angled perfectly to drive you closer to unraveling completely.

“You’re close, aren’t you, Peanut?”, he murmured. “I can feel it. You’re squeezing me like you don’t wanna let go”.

You whimpered, your nails raking against his shoulders as the pressure in your core built to an unbearable intensity. Your head fell back, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps, but Ben wasn’t about to let you hide from him.

“Uh-uh”, he said sharply, his hands gripping your hips harder as he slowed his thrusts just enough to regain your attention. “Don’t you fucking look away”.

Your eyes fluttered open, your gaze hazy and unfocused as you tried to meet his. His green eyes burned with intensity, dark with hunger and something possessive that made your stomach twist. He leaned in, his forehead pressing against yours, his movements deliberate and unyielding as he pushed you closer and closer.

“When you come”, he growled, his voice rough and commanding, “you look at me, Peanut. Got it?”.

You nodded weakly, unable to form words, your body trembling as you teetered on the edge. He thrust harder, deeper, his rhythm relentless now, each motion pulling soft cries from your lips that you couldn’t control.

“That’s it”, he muttered, his gaze locked on yours, unyielding. “That’s my girl. Let me see it. Let me see you fall apart for me”.

The final thrust sent you over the edge, your body clenching tightly around him as your release crashed through you. Your eyes locked onto his, your vision blurring with the intensity of it, and Ben groaned deeply, the sound rough and raw as he watched every second of your undoing.

“Fuck, Peanut”, he muttered, his voice strained as your walls gripped him like a vice. “You’re so fucking perfect like this”.

Your body trembled as the waves of pleasure coursed through you, and even as you came undone beneath him, Ben didn’t stop. His movements slowed just enough to let you ride out your high, his hands firm and steady on your hips as he kept you exactly where he wanted you.

“Fucking beautiful when you come. Told you I’d make you love this”, he murmured, his smirk returning as he leaned in to brush his lips against your ear.

Ben wasn’t close to being done with you—not by a long shot. After a moment of catching his breath, he scooped you up effortlessly, carrying you to the couch and sitting down with you straddling his lap. His hands gripped your hips firmly, guiding you as he eased you down onto him again. The stretch made your breath hitch all over again, but your body had already molded to him, making it easier this time.

“You’re not done yet, Peanut”, he murmured, his voice low and smug, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. “Not until I’ve had my fill”.

You didn’t know how much more you could take, but your body responded on instinct, your arms wrapping around his neck as he thrust up into you, slow and steady. Every motion sent shivers through you, the pressure building again despite how spent you already felt. His hands roamed your body, gripping, caressing, holding you steady as he moved beneath you.

Time blurred. You lost count of how many times he made you come—how many times your body tensed, shook, and fell apart in his arms. Ben took his time, alternating between hard, commanding movements and surprising moments of gentleness, as though savoring every second. His voice was a constant in your ear, filthy and possessive, coaxing every moan, whimper, and gasp out of you like they belonged to him.

By the time you collapsed against his chest, your body spent and trembling, you couldn’t even think straight. Your breaths came in soft, shaky gasps, your cheek resting against his chest. Ben’s hands moved to your back, stroking gently now, his touch grounding as you slowly came down from the overwhelming high.

“Shh”, he murmured, his voice softer now. “You’re done, baby. You’ve earned your rest”.

His arms wrapped around you, holding you securely against him as he leaned back into the couch. The tension in your body eased, and you felt your eyelids grow heavy, the steady rhythm of his breathing and the warmth of his body lulling you into a daze.

Surprisingly, Ben didn’t push for more. He simply held you, his rough hands surprisingly gentle as they traced lazy circles on your back. His cocky smirk had softened into something almost content, his head resting against the back of the couch as he watched you drift off.

“Guess I wore you out”, he muttered, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest as he shifted slightly to make you more comfortable. “Can’t say I blame you, Peanut. You did good”.

You didn’t respond—couldn’t respond—as sleep overtook you. Completely spent, your body went limp against him, your soft breaths warm against his skin as you passed out in his arms. And for once, Ben didn’t press or tease. He just stayed there, holding you close, his gaze lingering on you with something almost resembling pride.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

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[keeryhours]

late night with the devil - eddie munson

Eddie Munson x female! reader

Masterlist

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Summary:

Hawkins may think your boyfriend and his friends are devil worshippers, but he’s still just your Eddie.

Warnings:

Smut (18+), p in v, fingering, dirty talk, weed use

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N:

So so so excited to post my first Eddie fic! I hope you enjoy!

—

The people of Hawkins were convinced there were devil worshippers among you. Satanic Panic was in full swing, and the targets were right on your friends’ backs.

They had always been seen as Freaks, but the group of metalheads and their love for D&D were under real public scrutiny now. You knew your friends were good people, but now you were being warned to stay away from them by teachers, your parents forbidding you from ever seeing them again.

That’s how you found yourself crawling out of your bedroom window at 11:30pm, your parents long asleep. The wood of the window sill scratched against your arms painfully as you lowered yourself to the ground. You hissed when you landed on your feet, checking for any splinters. You brushed the dirt off your jeans.

Dry fallen leaves crunched under your feet as you walked through your yard. Reaching the front of the house, you grabbed your bike from against the garage. You hadn’t rode it much in the past couple years. Typically Eddie would pick you up in his van, or there was usually at least one person with a car in whatever friend group you hung out with. Obviously that wasn’t happening tonight.

You pedaled to Forest Hills, your anger at your parents only growing as you went. Anger at them for falling for this sensationalist crap, anger at them for turning on Eddie and your other friends when they knew they weren’t bad people. They may never have been Eddie’s biggest fans - they didn’t love that he was on his third senior year and had heard rumors about the small business he ran - but they didn’t have a real problem with him. But now they have let the news and gossip convince them that your boyfriend and your friends were evil.

You were still angry when you rolled past the park’s sign, but it faded as you made the remaining short distance to Eddie’s trailer. You spotted your boyfriend’s lanky legs in his ripped jeans immediately, sitting on the front steps. You climbed off your bike and leaned it against the side of the trailer as Eddie stood, a cigarette in his hand. You walked over to him, rushing into his arms when holds them open for you. You wrap your arms around his waist and he wraps his around your body, holding you close.

“I’m glad you got here okay,” Eddie said, and you could feel his voice rumbling in his chest as he spoke. “I hate that I can’t just come get you.”

“I know. Me too.” You looked up at him and he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. You smiled at him.

“Let me finish this and we can go inside.”

You and Eddie sat next to each other on the steps. He talked to you about his plans for his next D&D campaign as he smoked, you hanging on to every word. Eddie was so creative, and his campaigns were always so detailed. It felt like being told the world’s most interesting story.

When he finished his cigarette, Eddie tossed it aside and stood to his full height, holding out his hand for you. You took it with a smile and he pulled you to your feet with enough effort that you stumbled into his chest once you were up. Eddie laughed, putting his hands on your hips to steady you.

He ushered you into the trailer ahead of him. You had spent a lot of nights here since you and Eddie started hanging out, you always had it to yourselves since his uncle Wayne worked nights. It felt like having your own place together, sometimes.

You made yourself comfortable as usual, pulling a soda from the fridge. You giggled as you felt Eddie’s arms snaking around your waist from behind, curls tickling your face as he buried his face in your neck, placing soft kisses.

You hummed with a smile on your face as you popped open the can of soda and Eddie rocked you back and forth in his arms. “I’m glad you’re here,” he mumbled against your skin. His leather jacket was cool against your arms.

Things had been difficult for Eddie since all this shit had started. He and his friends had always been outcasts, but now it was worse. Now you worried for their actual safety, constantly scared some hick will decide to take the “satan worshippers” into their own hands and do something crazy.

You spun around in his arms, your left arm draping over his shoulder while your right still held onto the cold can. Eddie smiled down at you with that grin that always gave you butterflies. His thumbs rubbed circles on your hips as they rested there.

“Do you want to smoke?” he asked, which brought a grin to your face.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, smiling up at your boyfriend’s tall frame.

He pulled away from you reluctantly with a last minute squeeze of your hip before he was bowing dramatically and rushing off back to his bedroom. You laughed as you drank your soda. You flopped down on the couch, kicking your feet up on the table, nearly knocking over an overly filled ashtray in the process.

Eddie was back shortly after, perfectly rolled joint in his hand as he collapsed on the couch next to you. You sat the can on the table as Eddie handed you the joint and a lighter with a flourish. “Ladies first.”

You plucked it from his hand with a smile, placing it between your lips and lighting it with Eddie’s lighter. Relaxation seems to wash over you immediately as you take a deep drag, holding the smoke in your lungs. You leaned back against the cushions as you let it out. Eddie’s hand absentmindedly played with your thigh as he watched you with interest.

“You’re so hot when you smoke,” he mumbled, and it made you giggle as you took your second hit.

“You are, too,” you said through the smoke and passed the joint to him. He laughed as he took it.

He put on a show for you as he took his turn, holding your eye contact as he inhaled and held the smoke. Then he was leaning forward, free hand cupping the back of your head as he brought his lips to yours and breathed the smoke into your mouth. You inhaled it, the smoke from Eddie’s own hit leaving your mouth as you exhaled. Eddie bit his lip as he watched you, a smirk on his pretty face, before he was hitting it again.

The two of you passed the joint back and forth until the roach was so small it was basically unsmokable. You were feeling infinitely more relaxed, sinking into the couch. Eddie always got extra talkative when he was high and this was no exception.

“So I told him,” Eddie said, head tilted back against the couch as he stared at the ceiling and talked with his hands. “I told him no, we could not reschedule the campaign. It’s the end of the campaign.” Eddie scoffed and looked at you like can you believe that?

You nodded at him, but you were having a hard time focusing on his words. Your brain was working so slow and he talked so fast. You felt some of the fogginess in your brain clear away at the feeling of his large hand on your thigh again. He rubbed it this time, trailing his hand higher and higher. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

He met your gaze with a smirk. He leaned in, his leather jacket audibly crinkling as he moved. You were relieved to feel his lips on yours again, the familiar feeling of his mouth working against yours, his tongue slipping between your lips. You hummed into the kiss, your hand resting on his chest.

“Wanna go to my room?” he asked you, low voice rumbling in his chest.

You nodded and Eddie wasted no time standing from the couch, reaching a hand out for you like a gentleman. You took his hand and he lifted you. He followed you to the back of the trailer where his bedroom was, slapping your ass as you walked. You laughed, turning around to give him a playful glare.

He closed the door to his bedroom behind you. You watched as he went straight for the stereo, putting on some Metallica. He turned around and gave you a mischievous look before he basically tackled you onto the bed, causing you to fall back onto the mattress, laughing hard. He lifted himself above you and you scooted back to lay against the pillows. Your body buzzed with anticipation.

Eddie shrugged his leather jacket off, dropping it to the floor. His ringed hands slid up your legs, from your ankles to your calves to your thighs. You could tell he wanted it bad tonight by the dark look in his eyes, the way he stared at your body like he wanted to devour it.

He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed that, too, his guitar pick necklace falling to rest against his bare chest. You rubbed your hands over the now exposed skin, feeling his firm chest, his sides, his soft belly. He sighed at the feeling.

“You’re so beautiful…” Eddie mumbled, hands still rubbing your thighs. His hands creeped forward until they reached the buttons of your jeans. You watched him intently as his long, dexterous fingers undid them with ease, pulling the material down your legs.

His hands slid up your shirt next, feeling how smooth your skin was always did something to him. He lifted your shirt as his hands traveled up until his fingers were grazing your bra. You sat up for him for a second so he could pull your shirt off.

Eddie took in the sight of you laying beneath him in only your underwear with hungry eyes. It’s not like he hasn’t seen you like this before, but it never got old. He never got used to it. His rings were cold against your skin as he felt all over your body, exploring at his own pace. You didn’t mind. It felt nice everywhere he touched you. You could see the bulge straining in his ripped jeans.

“Eddie…” you whined, causing him to break out of his trance and look up at you.

“What is it, baby?” he asked as he kept rubbing his hands up and down your sides. It gave you goosebumps.

“Really want you…” you whined again, lips pouting. Eddie chuckled lowly at that, his fingers gripping your sides a little harder.

“Yeah? You want me?” he asked, looking at you with those dark eyes, laced with desire. Pupils blown wide in lust. Oh, Eddie wanted it bad. “Are you wet for me, baby?” His fingers traced your core over your underwear, finding the answer for himself. He smirked. “All for me?” he asked, eyes shooting up to meet yours.

“Yeah, all for you, Eddie,” you breathed, his light touch where you wanted him so badly driving you crazy. He pressed a little harder, right over your clit, and you cried out with a little “Ah!”

Eddie laughed that sinister sounding laugh once again, then his hands were sliding up your body and around your back, unhooking your bra and tossing it. His hands immediately found your tits, groping them like he was seeing them for the first time as he grinded his clothed hips against your wet panties. You could feel how hard he was even through the multiple layers.

“Fuck,” Eddie groaned, his voice so low you barely heard it. His thumb rubbed over your nipples before he started to roll and pinch them between his fingers. He leaned over, wrapping his mouth around one of them. He was moaning the second he got his lips on you, sucking your nipple into his mouth and running his tongue around it in circles. You arched up into him, only pushing your chest further into his face, which he appreciated.

He switched to your other breast to give that nipple equal attention. You moaned, pushing your hips up to press against him, desperate for friction on your aching clit. Eddie had you so turned on, you didn’t feel like you could wait another second.

When he pulled off of your nipple, he buried his face in your tits, using his hands to push them closer together around his face.

“I could live in here,” he said, voice muffled between them. You laughed hard, running your hands through his hair, giving him full body chills.

He pulled back to place hungry kisses over your chest and neck, biting and sucking against the sensitive pulse point, getting the reaction from you he wanted. You dug your nails into his back harder and he hissed.

“Need you now, Eds,” you begged, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable. You needed him to fill you the way only he could.

He pulls back to look at you with those glazed over eyes. “You want my cock?” he asked, looking fully lost in the moment already.

“Yes,” you cried, rolling your hips up beneath him and trying to get him where you want him. Eddie took the hint and got on his knees between your legs. He slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties and pulled them off slowly, savoring it.

He spread your legs wide, big brown eyes taking in the sight of your bare cunt laid out before him, all for him. “Oh, baby,” he groaned, reaching forward to trace a long finger through your folds. He held it up to show you just how wet you were before he popped it in his mouth, sucking it clean.

Eddie reached for his belt, undoing it and pulling it from the belt loops before tossing it to the floor with a clang. He quickly undid his jeans and pushed them and his boxers down his legs, kicking them off. You moaned when his hard length was finally revealed, and he gave you a cocky smirk.

He leaned over your body again, kissing up your chest and neck to place a peck on your lips before he reached for the bedside table, opening the drawer and pulling a condom from the box. He sat back up on his knees and ripped the package open with his teeth, sliding the rubber onto his dick.

He stroked himself quickly a couple times then leaned over you, resting his weight on one forearm as his other hand lined the thick tip of his cock up right against your entrance. Your heart thudded hard in your chest at the feeling, you just wanted him inside you now.

Eddie began to push into you, eyes watching your face as every inch sinks into your warm, wet pussy, wrapping around him perfectly. He felt like he was in heaven, and he couldn’t hold back the groan that spilled from his lips as he buried himself to the hilt. Your hands dug into his skin even harder, holding onto him like you’d disappear if you let go.

He peppered kisses all over your face and neck as he let you get adjusted. He pulled his hips back slowly, then snapped them back into you, drawing a strangled cry from your lips.

“Eddie!” you cried, already feeling so much when he’d only just started. You felt your core tighten around him, holding him even tighter, and he hissed as he set a steady rhythm with his hips.

“God, I’ve barely even fucked you yet…” he mumbled, drinking in your already fucked-out expression and mouth hanging open. He couldn’t deny what the sight of you like this did to him, his cock growing impossibly harder inside of you, his balls tightening, and suddenly he worried he’d cum way too fast like he did your first time together. You hadn’t minded, but he had been humiliated, and he didn’t want a repeat.

Eddie rolled his hips against you at the perfect pace. You tangled your hands in his wild hair and pulled him down to kiss you again, which he did eagerly, tongue in your mouth immediately as he tangled with yours and kissed you hungrily.

He groaned into your mouth as he sped up his pace, thoroughly pounding into you now. The sounds of the two of you - skin slapping together, bed creaking, your moans and grunts and whines and whimpers - filled the room, nearly as loud as the heavy music playing over his speakers. It drove Eddie even more wild.

He sat back up on his knees, grabbing onto your hips with a bruising grip and lifting them higher as he began fucking you with quick, shallow thrusts. You nearly screamed, the intense way his cockhead was ruthlessly pressing against your bundle of nerves with every thrust making you see stars in your vision.

“Fuck, you like that?” Eddie gritted out through clenched teeth, his curls bouncing with every wild thrust into you.

“Feels so good,” you managed to say between moans, hands tangling in the sheets since you can’t comfortably grab onto some part of his body right now, even though that’s what you want.

And it did feel incredible. Your mind was fuzzy and you weren’t sure anymore if it was from the weed or Eddie’s dick. You felt your release building inside you already.

“Fuck yeah it does,” Eddie spits out, and he looks like he’s lost in his own pleasure as his eyes fall closed and his mouth parts, grunts falling from his pretty lips with every brutal thrust. His head falls back and he uses his hands to help pull you against him to meet the thrusts of his own hips, making it even more intense, which you didn’t think was possible.

He looked back down at your body, one hand leaving your hip to rub circles on your clit with his thumb. The sudden sensation made you cry out with a high pitched “Oh!”, eyes fluttering shut as Eddie pushed you to the brink with calculated precision. He hadn’t been experienced when you had gotten together, but damn if he wasn’t a ridiculously quick learner.

He could feel you tightening around him, pussy gripping him so good he felt like he might fall apart right then and there. He cursed under his breath, hips moving a little faster as he pushed you to your release. “Yeah, cum on my cock baby, please, need to feel you making a mess all over me.” Eddie was practically begging as he spoke, desperate to make you cum so he could stop holding back.

“I…gonna cum, Eddie, oh shit-“

A proud smile spread across Eddie’s lips as you came undone for him, watching your pretty face twist in ecstasy as you moaned like his little slut, crying out his name over and over. It was music to his ears, and you were a sight for sore eyes as you utterly fell apart. More than anything, the feeling of your tight walls pulsing around him from your orgasm pushed him over the edge and into his own.

Eddie laid his body over yours the second your high subsided. He grabbed your hands and lifted them over your head, intertwining your fingers with his, and he kissed you hard as it finally hit him. Hard.

Eddie whimpered against your lips before letting out a long, low groan, muscles clenching and body trembling as he finished inside you, spilling into the condom. He kept pumping in shallow thrusts until he had spilled every last drop, his body completely spent as he came harder than he ever does on his own.

He didn’t move as you both caught your breath. Eddie’s body felt weak, like he had used every bit of energy he had. Finally he works up the effort to roll off of you, pecking your lips before he does. You hear him as he pulls the condom off, tying it up and throwing it in the trash can before he’s sliding up against you and wrapping his arm around your waist, your naked bodies pressed together.

You turned on your side and he spooned against you, your body fitting against his like a puzzle piece. His hair tickled your shoulders as he placed kisses to the backs of them before laying his head down against you.

“I love you,” he mumbled sleepily. You could tell he wouldn’t stay awake much longer. He had been thoroughly worn out.

“I love you too,” you said back, fingers gently rubbing his hand that was pressed right above your navel.

He hummed contentedly, and you pulled the blankets over the both of you. You had no desire to get out of his bed, to leave his warm embrace. Wayne never cared if you stayed over, and you figured you could sneak back into your own room before your parents noticed in the morning.

You really weren’t concerned with the logistics right now. This was the only place you wanted to be, and you didn’t care about anything else.

You felt your eyes beginning to grow heavy. Your eyes roamed over the familiar bedroom, messy as usual. You looked at his guitar hanging on the wall, the only other lady you’d ever have to share his heart with. Your gaze wandered to the bedside table, a polaroid of the two of you together on display for him to look at every night before he goes to sleep and every morning when he wakes up.

Eddie made you feel so loved and cared for. You hoped you made him feel the same.

You snuggled deeper into the warmth of his arms. You loved your boyfriend. Whether everyone in town thought he was the devil or not.

[chlmtsdoll]

FULL OF LOVE

Anonymous: PLEASE MORE DAD ART AND PREGNANT READER

ilysm anon and THANK YOU for this cute little idea 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Notes 🎀 : fluff | breeding kink-ish | dilf Art | I think we all can agree Art is a certified girl dad, so this is heavy on that. Also ! Since in my first dad Art fic he and reader have a two year old, we’re gonna continue that plot line & also give her a flower name to match Lily’s 🤍 this was cuteee to write.

You and Art couldn’t say you’d been too taken back by your little surprise.

Everything had just been getting settled when Lily began tennis lessons after school and Paisley, your smallest baby, had been getting out of the way just in time for the news. It wasn’t that you and your husband were even trying for another baby, especially with how your busy family life could be. And soon enough, Arts championship season being only just around the corner — but you could actually admit, you did often dream of another baby to keep you and your husband on your toes.

So, with the last couple of weeks, that rooted feeling deep down that you just knew you were pregnant was getting harder and harder to ignore.

The night you found out your womb had in fact been no longer empty, you’d been coming home from dinner with Art when not even a couple seconds after stepping through the front door you got sick. And without any precaution, Art rushed to the store to get a handful of pregnancy tests for you. Each of which all came back with the same result. And your poor overtly anxious man couldn’t take the responsibility of waiting for you to tell him what the results were showing — Art even wanted to be in the bathroom with you while you were taking them, read your expression right then and there so his heart would stop beating in anticipation so quickly. But being the princess you always could be, you made him wait outside anyways.

“Baby.. Baby, what’s going on ? Talk to me.. are you okay ? Is-is it positive ? ” Arts concerned muffled voice from the other side of the door chimed in every couple of minutes that we’re probably only seconds, he’s preciously just been begging you to let him, he promised to turn around even while you took the tests. And though you weren’t in complete shock of the results in your hand, that feeling still wouldn’t ever become not indescribable. You chuckled softly with steadied tears forming in your ducts, as you knew you husband had to have been freaking out on the other side of that door.

“Art, you’ve got to chill. Okay ?” You say as you were completely not chilling.

Art went from having his ear pressed against the wood to hear you, to resting his forehead there with a deep exhale. His palms clenching and unclenching. “Can I just come in ? Please ?” Your husband asked softly, and you sincerely couldn’t hold off the news from him any longer as you stared at the three positive tests in your hands.

“Okay, fine..”

When Art finally opened the door slowly, he saw you look up at him as you stood with your smile ear to ear while you wiped away a tear falling down your face. He could feel his heart skip a couple beats right then. Art walked over to you with his wide doe eyes already being filled with euphoria.

“Yes ? Is- - it a yeah ?” Your husband whispered out as he searched your face for more signals and you bit your lip feverishly with a joyous smile tucked underneath, nodding as your husband approached you and you stood to your toes, wrapping your arms around Arts neck and he practically swung himself around your figure. The man blissfully lifted you up from the ground, leaving squeals to exit your lungs along with the happiest tears.

“We’re having another baby!” You choked on your own giggles mixed with sobs, Art closed his eyes and brought you in to plant his face into your shoulder as he hugged you tighter than he maybe ever has. He just let the wondrous news wash over him right then.

“Oh, baby,” your husband breathed out in the heat of your skin as he held you, his everything, carrying his third child.

The blonde pulled back to look at your expression again. He panted as his excitement was bouncing within him and it was almost like had to make sure he wasn’t just about dreaming by now. Your own eyes glistened with your ecstatic smile, you cupped his face in your palms, noticing your husband’s teary eyes looking into you.

“we’re having another ? Really ?” Art questioned with a soft but breathy tone.

“Yes. My love, round two is happening. For real.” You beamed and Art melted into you again as you laughed fondly and squeezed your arms around him.

“My god, I knew it.. I just knew it, baby.” Art peppered kisses down your shoulders like he could worship your being right then. Taking your hands and kissing them too. “You’re so beautiful, the baby’s beautiful, this is all- - amazing, I can’t believe it.” Your smile grew along side Arts as he set you down on the bathroom counter behind the two of you.

“You’re not even a little bit upset, are you ? I know it won’t be like planned… since your gonna play this season you won’t be home as much before the birth like you were with Paisley.”

You eyes followed Art as he shook his head and snaked his hands around your waist, thumbs even gently caressing your tummy which made your blush heighten.

“No, no- this is like planned, angel. We wanted another little one at some point and the ‘right timing’ is just a myth. I don’t care, I promise I’ll make time, love. Yeah ?”

You felt butterflies fill up your senses as Art spoke so tenderly to you, eyes full with emotions of gratitude for you being the one he gets to bring love into the world with. Grateful for you letting him be the father to your beyond gorgeous kids. You couldn’t have gotten luckier.

You rested your forehead against Arts as you simpered under his caress and he brought his lips to smooch yours sweetly.

Being a wife was always in your queue for your future — but being a mother to the tennis star’s children was a true blessing with just how much Art truly loved being a dad. When it was time for you both to tell Lily about her new sibling, explaining to her that her dad was having another baby with someone who wasn’t her mom was always interesting to see the way her little brain could comprehend it all, but she handled it so well. Lily’s a sweetheart and she loved you like a mom, and you loved her as one of your own.

Art reminded her that she was always going to be his greatest love in life — it was achingly sweet to see her feel so safe with the two of you and her half sister also being her best friend. They grow together every day. You’re a family and bringing a new addition to something already so perfect was going to be that next chapter of your lives making it all tie together.

A couple months passing by and there had been so much your little crew had been up to with all the perks of getting ready for the new baby, and even just getting around all of your schedules. You told Art you wanted him to be able to play this season, feel like you were secure enough even in your second trimester to be home with the girls and handle the pregnancy alone on the day to day. But Art was always thinking ahead — made sure you knew he’d pass up. Tennis could wait if something as important as you going through any difficulties carrying the baby, or simply anything that he’d need to be home with you for. So even though all your checkups and ultrasounds went stunningly, you’d been feeling better than ever before with a healthy baby and a bump that was perfect to your body and daily lifestyle, once it was confirmed you were having another baby girl, Art stepped down from campaigning to compete this season.

He was too over the moon about it all. He became a full time stay at home dad to be with all four of his girls.

One afternoon when you’d been taking a rest with your two year old who was napping alongside you, and Lily bad been with her mom for a few hours — you’d noticed Art disappeared for a while not just so he didn’t wake you and Paisley, but busy with something else. So when you waddled your way around to search for him, you found your husband in the nursery. Hunched by Paisley’s crib with a measuring tape in hand, wearing his glasses that he brought out when he was getting serious with his cooking skills or helping out around the house. It made your smile widen across your lips as you leaned in the door frame to observe how occupied he was with whatever he was doing.

“What are you up to, Mr. Donaldson ?”

Art heard your sweet yet sleepy voice, like honey to him, the blonde faced you with a grin as you strolled over while holding your stomach.

You reached to run your fingers through his curls, disheveled as he started letting his hair grow out now that he was home and you were more than into how it took on his boyish but manly look in a new way. His eyes ran over you, icy and in love with just the way you looked at him.

“I’m starting on our little girls crib. I wanna do it by hand, and- - you can paint it however you want.” He beamed down at your figure as his sideways smile showcased his teeth, you giggled softly.

“I’m sure it’ll be just fine if she and Paisley share a crib, right ? She’ll be closer to her sister and it’ll save you time, energy.. building a crib from the bottom up is a lot of work.”

Art pulled you closer into him with one hand, the other placing his pen just above his ear and you bit down on your bottom lip at just the sight. “But I have enough time and energy to put towards it, sweets... If I can give my girls the world, I will. And I want to do that for her. It’ll be so fun. You know it will.”

Art was the kind of man who just wanted to give to the people he loved. The ones most important to him and it was a priority that since he had the funds and the access to give you and his daughter’s whatever was needed to make you the most comfortable and happy, he would. It was why you didn’t mind giving him as many more as he wanted. He was the best husband and dad a girl could ask for.

He leaned in to kiss your cheek then near your ear, warm hands on you immediately and your fond smile grew as they went to rub around your bump with tenderness. Art wanted to stay connected with his new little girl as early as possible. Always kissing, hugging and talking to your tummy on the daily like she’s already been born. It could of made you cry that someone loved you, and all versions of mini you’s so much. These past few months with him has been the softest you’ve ever experienced with your lover.

It was a little hard not to constantly get emotional on how grateful you’d been — but you blamed it mostly on the fact that you are pregnant after all, and can get away with tears.

Art still made you get flustered even now when he did little gestures like this with you.

Your husband took your hands in his as he led you to the rocking chair nearby the crib and sat, of course bringing you to relax on his lap with him while going in for another kiss. Holding the back of the blondes head with a sugary smile you melted your lips with his till you only pulled away to speak. “You sure I’m not too heavy ?”

“Never,” Art chuckled as he went to peck your girly smile again. “Let’s not pretend like you won’t end up here again anyways, I ought to get used to it.”

“Artie!” You pushed on his chest as he laughed and you joined him, not even surprised by the fact he was already thinking about getting you pregnant again while being less than six months in with his current baby.

“What !? Wouldn’t you agree ?”

“I mean, I can’t say I’d be up to stop any time soon..” you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip while holding your own wrists around his shoulders. Art held you close, thumb rubbing at your waist like always as he eyed you down, tongue darting out just before licking over his lip in carnality of you. It was like you could feel the exact moment when your face had the reaction of falling flustered under his gaze. Thinking about the day Art wouldn’t make you blush terribly was non-existent in times like these.

“Yeah ? You gonna make me a daddy a couple more times, pretty girl ?” Arts tone lowered as he grinned into the side of your neck, going to pepper kisses on to your skin as he held you on him. You were so used to the way he could go from zero to a hundred once he was alone with you. You laughed and leaned into his tender smooches, but kept a hand on his torso to keep the man at a warning distance.

“Careful, Donaldson… I’m learning that I get pregnant very easily and this baby needs her daddy first.”

Art chuckled but slightly groaned as he let up only a bit from nibbling on your neck, his hand rested there on your stomach due to your caution, “mmm, but you know that doesn’t scare me, baby. I don’t want to be careful. Wanting to have a fuck ton of babies with my gorgeous wife can’t be a crime.”

“You can’t say that in the baby’s room!” You laughed.

“We’re the only ones in here!”

You two were a giggling mess in the corner of the nursery. You’d blushed like crazy at your husbands choice of words and feverish attraction to you like this. All pretty, in his lap, with your flowy dresses, healthiest smelling hair, belly round and full with his love for you, he couldn’t even fathom getting tired of it any time soon.

The blonde never even dared to keep his hands off of you, ever. No matter what time of the of the day or night, he was getting you somewhere private and alone. Even if it was just under an hour, he couldn’t resist. In moments when you felt your most unworthy of a fun time, Art still had it over you that he was so down bad for your sexiness even domestically. It drove him to be painfully obsessive with wanting you all to himself. So he was totally right.

You would end up here again in no time.

It had partially been your fault with the way you egged him on. It was radical the way Art loved just being called daddy. By the girls, you saw the way his face lit up and the sparkle in his eye enhanced whenever they called him just by seeing him first thing in the morning as he made breakfast for you all. Proud and ready to kiss your two year old. Make her heart or princess shaped pancakes. He adored her and Lily’s “add more sprinkles, daddy.” even at eight am. His endearing smiles and effort would confirm it all. And of course even when you referred to him as daddy, especially in other settings, he’d be precisely pleased as well.

With the maids you usually had around the house being paid but laid off seeing as Art thought there would be no need since he was home to clean up after the girls — you always naturally fell into picking up their toys and doing their hair, dressing them every day as a motherly instinct, but Art wanted you off your feet as often as possible.

He made it his responsibility to clean up around the place before you could get to it and even make fun games out of it with the girls so they’d get used to tidying up even without a maid. Brushing their hair at night before bed he never skipped, and attending to their bath time on the dot. Of course you couldn’t help yourself to help out even if he insisted, it was in those little moments you got to cherish Art for all he was as a husband. It was the sweetest you might had ever seen a man in your life put into his duties.

Shopping was plentiful of fun too when Art wanted to take you and the girls out for the day. He figured the baby would need new clothes once she arrived as you’d been nearing your third trimester and making room for it even with the shower gifts you’d surely receive.

“Hold hands, girls.”

“Okay, mommy!” came from Lily and Paisley as they hurried out of the house before you and Art. They were always over the moon to go shopping knowing Art would get them whatever it was they wanted, even if you protested because they have more than enough doll houses and friendship bracelet kits. He’d still find a way to sneak them toys and Barbie’s being as you couldn’t complain once he already bought it. You should of learned to give up now when it was obvious he’d never stop spoiling all of you.

“You can’t spoil them to death this time, Art.”

“I can’t keep any promises, you know that.”

Your husband scoffed and you rolled your eyes playfully with a small titter. One of his hands carrying the car seat and the other was placed on the small of your back as he guided you from the front door towards the car, his pearly smile showing as he kept an eye on the girls.

Art opened up the doors for the three of you, “alright, ready ?” He grinned before reaching to pick up the little girls in his arms, they bursted in squealed and giggles as he loaded them into the car. You got yourself in as well and the corner of your lips stretched with a smile as you observed the way he made sure every day was special for them — their faces showing just how much they adored their dad.

“Give the Cinderella one to daddy,” you heard Lily mention to her sister while Art was finishing up buckling her into the car seat. Paisley causally took the sticker and placed it on Arts cheek while giggling through her pacifier.

“Thank you, princess.” The blonde laughed before reaching over to make sure Lily put her seatbelt on correctly, he carried a soft smile. “I want you to start making sure your sisters are all buckled in when we go on car rides, sweets. You’re getting bigger and mommy’s going to need your help watching for the little ones, okay ?”

“Okay, daddy.” Lily nodded gladly in response to Art. You admired the way he spoke to her so gently about everything and maintained their relationship beautifully. You had no doubt in your mind he’d keep it up years from now with all of your kids. He circled the car to check on you with an endearing little look on his face. “You all good, my love ?” Your husband spoke to you with lightness as he placed his hand on the top of the car to lean into you a bit and your eyes meet his lovingly, he’d been taking you in as he always did and you simper at his charm.

“I’m okay, Prince Charming.” You noted to the sticker stuck to his face with a soft giggle, Art smirked before pressing a kiss to your lips tenderly.

“One for you.” He never forgot to kiss your stomach as well, making you feel treasured for the last couple of months of this new journey with him. “And one for you.” Art happily prided himself before closing your door to get in the drivers seat. Not even a minute after you’d been out the driveway, he grabbed your delicate hand to hold in his, pressing a few kisses there as he drove.

[queers-gambit]

Match Made in Grey Haven

prompt: ( requested ) you find yourself in what feels like a distant relationship through penned letters. overcome with shyness during his visits, you avoid Herald Elrond - until your grandfather (and co.) steps in as matchmaker.

pairing: Elrond x shy!female!reader

fandom masterlist: The Rings of Power

word count: 2.9k+

note: it's not much, i'm so sorry.

warnings: takes place BEFORE the events of TROP, abrupt ending, small hurt mostly comfort, feelings are hard, author is very abrasive and isn't sure this is conveyed fully as "shy" so i'm sorry, anxiety, unedited, wonky brain goes wonky, fluff, small drama, lost + healthy family relationships, romance, friends-to-lovers.

part two: The Risk

"You appear ill at-ease," Círdan mentioned as he casually strolled from the shadows of his workshop, the last of the day lingering in a warm glow, "which I am not accustomed to seeing on a face such as yours."

Elrond, busy at work carving one of the perfect ships his old master was crafting a fleet of, barely slowed down but did glance up in acknowledgment. He sniffled hastily, looking back at the pliable wood under his hands.

"Merely focused, my Lord, nothing more."

"Hm," Círdan hummed, pacing around slowly, hands clasped behind his back, chin up, shoulders back, grey locks glistening in familiar waves, "interesting choice of words."

"How so?" Elrond paused to pet the curve of the wood, trying in vain to hide his true bubbling feelings. He went straight back to work, aware Círdan watched him closely.

"Y/N said the exact same." This made the High King's Herald pause in full, Círdan smirking, "Ah, just as I suspected."

"I do not think - "

"You fool nobody but yourself," Círdan chuckled, waving off Elrond's words and stepping closer to admire the boat carving. "She cares for you, too, you know?"

"With respect, my Lord... But you are mistaken," Elrond deflected. "Your granddaughter and I, we are merely friends - if that. We only exchange letters - "

"And feelings," Círdan pointed out, watching Elrond flush under his interrogation. Just outside the doors, you approached, thinking you would fetch your grandfather for supper; slowing when the older, wiser Elf tisked, "Ah, come now, Elrond, do not look so forlorn, there are worst fates than that of emotional - "

"With respect," Elrond repeated, cutting Círdan off, your hand hovering over the door handle, "there are no emotions involved when it comes to your granddaughter."

You froze.

"Yet I will not believe that," Círdan shot back.

"There is little to be said that might sway you, my Lord, but it is true. We are..." You listened as Elrond took a sharp inhale, "We are friends, nothing more. Our foundation lays in companionship, we exchange letters - share our thoughts, ideas, and feelings. There's nothing more."

Círdan hummed in amusement, "That so? Then... Why, in the past 6 months, have you come here - what is it? Six? Seven times?"

"Eight," Elrond corrected automatically, wincing when your grandfather chuckled and you lowered your hand. Yet you did not walk away yet.

"You claim business with the High King brings you to us so frequently," Círdan continued, "yet, the matters discussed can be solved through letters alone. Nothing that deems an emissary. So, tell me in truth... Why?"

"My Lord?"

"Why do you come? I know it is not for Gil-Galad alone, so, tell me in truth, why the frequent trips?"

You could hear Elrond resume his wood carving and you became acutely aware of your position. Backing away, you fled the scene, petrified over the idea of being caught; yet your mind was stuffed full with what you heard. It'd been years since you first met Elrond, the young, fresh, baby-faced Herald of the High King; and while initially fascinatingly attracted to him, you were detrimentally shy.

Like, so shy, it makes you mute - to an extent.

He wasn't a Herald yet, though, and came to apprentice under your grandfather. Elrond became a constant presence around the Grey Havens - a talented, shining star of a student who studied diligently. You admired his work from afar at first, then, Círdan asked you to row one of Elrond ships around the harbor.

It was well known you were the apple of Círdan's eye; his favorite thing in the material world, the reason he refused to give himself over to the Valar yet. He was supposed to sail... But his daughter was soon to give birth, so he waited; and thankfully, because plague claimed your father and mother from complications of your birth. So, Círdan raised you.

Elrond panicked at Círdan's request, stepping into your pathway without thought and gasping, "No!" You shied back into your grandfather's side, the dark haired Elf amending swiftly, "I apologize, I-I did not mean to be so - so abrupt. But... Let me work a few more days, ensure it is to perfection."

You smiled gently and nodded, Círdan smirking and leading you away - the start of a formal friendship. After testing Elrond's boat (when ready), you sent him a note that expressed your impression and complimenting his woodworking skills, even saying you looked forward to his future creations.

His first letter back to you was one of thousands, and the start of his Heraldry.

Yet now, in present day, you wondered if these letters weren't enough and if he thought you untruthful in your declaration of affection. While your companionship had now lasted decades, you were still insecure enough that you lose wit, cheek, and tongue when he's around. And now, the past half a year, you've seen him eight times and couldn't muster your courage, and perhaps, it wasn't enough for Elrond anymore.

You just expressed yourself better in words! And you didn't leave Círdan's side; you did not venture around Middle-earth, never left your sanctuary. You adored Elrond's accounts of adventures and travels and work, it was your only time to "live", even if vicariously.

Now, worriment set in; anxious that you weren't enough.

"Ah," Círdan hummed as he and Elrond entered your humble home for supper, "it smells divine in here, sweet girl."

"Thank you," you whispered, setting the table for the meal as Elrond was the one who would not meet your eye.

"I'll be a moment, I need to wash up," he excused himself, always presentable; forever perfect.

You just sighed as he slipped from the room; a typical guest in your home, especially with his...recent increased business from the High King. "You seem pensive," Círdan noted, taking the bowl of salad to the table for you. "Is there anything on your mind you wish to discuss?"

"Nothing of note."

"Then speak to me of something not of note."

"If it is of no note, Grandfather, why give it voice?"

"Because it still takes up room, be it in your head and heart - which gives it validation to speak of."

You paused at the table, finding him grinning, offering an unamused glare. "I told you not to do that," you reprimanded softly.

"Do what?"

"Your - little - your pearls wisdom!" You groaned childishly, collapsing into a chair. "You can let me stew and figure things out for myself, we do not always have to speak of matters. It is an unfair advantage that I am inundated with your pearls and others toil for direction!"

Círdan chuckled, folding his hands before his dinner plate. "To complain of such an advantage is - "

"I know."

"Then why do it?"

"Because..."

"You are frustrated with your own emotion that you refuse to give life to?"

With a huff, you nodded, "Exactly."

"What is the matter?"

Your head shook in deflection, "Perhaps, I am just overwhelmed. I think I'll take a walk - "

"But supper - "

"I'll eat later," you promised, reaching out to lay your hand on his and smile, "I just need a few moments to breathe. Eat, enjoy, I'll find you later."

You left before another word could be spoken. When Elrond reentered the kitchen, he only found Círdan and wondered, "Where's Y/N?"

"She seemed distraught, saddened by something. She decided to go for a walk, clear her head a bit."

"Right," Elrond nodded, feeling awkward just standing there.

"Come, sit, eat," Círdan invited with a small smirk, "she's probably gone off to the workshop, she likes to write there. Says it's more inspiring than the library. Come, Elrond... She'll be awhile."

Elrond frowned and looked to the door, Círdan knowing his words were replaying in the half-Elf's mind. "Perhaps I should check on her?" He asked his old Master. "It would be wrong to eat without the chef, would it not?"

"I was thinking the same," the older, greying Elf nodded, "though you waste your time, that girl is stubborn - trapped in her mind too often."

"How do you mean?"

"It's why she writes," Círdan explained, "at least, why she writes you, I imagine. She often loses her voice, feels as if she is not entitled to it's very being - so, she writes, uses her words... And seemingly, you understand them best - relate to her, in a way. So," he took a breath, "go, if you wish, but know, she's unlikely to speak."

Elrond was out the door before Círdan could uncork the bottle of wine left on the table. He smirked to himself, musing, "Oh, these kids..."

You had left your home and made a beeline for your grandfather's workshop, shutting the doors with a great big breath of relief before groaning in emotional frustration. "Oh, how silly!" You snipped to yourself, "This is all so silly, it makes no sense! I mean, the way I just shut down? It's so silly! Losing my voice? Over a man? Oh, just rubbish!" Your hands shook out violently. "I just need to say it, you know? I just need to say it - then he knows, he'll know and I can get rid of this silly feeling. He deserves to hear me say it, else he might think he's unwelcome, he might not want to visit..." You were unaware of Elrond approaching the door, opening it as you groaned once more, "OH! He's just a lad! He's just like you, you silly lass! Well, not entirely just like me - but he's just - he's just Elrond! What is there to fear!?"

"Is there someone else here I should address?" Elrond smirked gently as he stepped forward to make himself known, "Or do you often speak of me, to yourself?"

You squeaked and came to a halt, dress twirling around your ankles when you spun to face him. Hands came together, instantly threading your fingers and wringing them together nervously as your visitor smiled gently and slowly (so slowly) stepped forward. With a deep breath, you greeted, "Lord Elrond."

"Oh, please," he sighed, "are we not past formalities?"

"Far beyond," you agreed, shaking your head and facing the open wall that showcased the harbor and horizon; the last of the sunlight streaking the sky with water-painted color.

"It felt wrong to indulge on such a gorgeous creature without the architect being there to experience it first," he told you, coming to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with respectable distance still between you. "Yet you fled before..."

"I'm sorry," you blurted out, feeling suffocated briefly, "I could not linger."

"Is there a reason to feel unwelcome in your own home?"

You took a breath, "Well, um, it's just - it's you... You are the reason..."

Elrond startled, "What? I-I'm sorry, what have I done? What did I do?"

"You're you," you turned to him, "and that's not your fault, but you're you, and it drives me to insanity."

"I don't think I follow? I thought - in our letters, I thought we had a connection. That we understood one another...? And now that I'm here, you shy away from me, have I truly offended you so gravely?"

"No, Elrond, you have not offended me - it's the opposite," you risked your own comfort and reached out for his bicep first; which, in turn, made him step closer. "You are not betrayed, nor are you mistaken. There's a connection, of course there is. I do not know anyone who could fake such affection for such an extended period of time," you scoffed.

"Perhaps Sauron - "

"But you nor I are he."

"No," Elrond smiled gently, shifting his arms downward to hold your elbows and caress you into his chest as your hands were rearranged to his chest, "we are not, thank the Valar."

"I do not deceive you. The affection I hold for you, it's authentic and genuine. It's real, Elrond, it's real..."

"It is?" He asked, lifting a hand to hold your jaw; thumb caressing the apple of your cheek.

"It is. I was just... You disarm me. You make me small again, you make me tongue-tied, confused, excited - like everything is new again. And it both scares and invigorates me that I do not know what to do in those moments, so I hide from you. In your letters, I can plan my words; but when you're here, in front of me, under my hands," you cooed, petting his velvet tunic, "I lose my nerve. My senses..."

Elrond chuckled, hands drifting down to hold you by the base of your ribcage, "This... This is a relief to hear. I worried I offended you, that I had upset you in some way. That I ruined this before it had a chance to take shape."

"Hardly," you mused. "I lose my nerve around you, I feel so silly - so young and green to love..."

"'Love'?" He repeated.

"Oh, I just - I only meant - "

"Take comfort in the fact that the feeling is mutual, my sweet." Elrond chuckled, caressing your cheek lovingly, "I fear the High King may grow tired of me asking to personally deliver Círdan his letters."

"Perhaps I will have to find reason to visit you?"

"I would like that, perhaps more than I should admit," he whispered, slowly lowering his lips onto yours for a much awaited kiss - giving you every opportunity to back out, but it's not like you ever would. Not when you've waited for this for so long. His hand now cupped your jaw, sliding sweetly towards the back of your neck. Kissing Elrond was everything you thought: soft, gentle, evenly-paced, commandeering, all encompassing, and mind-numbing; you never wanted this to end, you never wanted to stop kissing him.

However, your moment was cut short by a loud crunching; pulling back as Elrond did, both turning to the main doors to spy your grandfather, Círdan, standing there smugly. He was holding a bowl made of bamboo, eating a crisp salad, barely holding back his grin. Upon seeing his mirthful expression, you deflated into Elrond's chest; his arm coiling around your waist to keep you anchored in place while the other dropped to open his stance - proving he didn't feel defensive.

"Grandfather?" You questioned softly.

"Mh," he swallowed his bite, "don't mind me, just appreciating the fruits of my labor."

"I beg your pardon?" You laughed.

Círdan shrugged, "You are both young and intelligent. Wise. Insightful," he listed, "yet you are so naïve to think this union was yours alone."

Elrond glanced down at you in confusion, brows furrowed, asking, "What do you mean, my Lord?"

"Grandfather, it was Elrond and I who penned letters for decades - "

"Indeed," Círdan agreed, "but why do you think the High King has sent Lord Elrond to us so often these past few months?"

You were both stunned into silence, Elrond asking, "You? You asked him to...to send me?"

"I did," Círdan nodded, "it is disheartening to see my granddaughter, whom I love so utterly and dearly, driven into isolation because emotions can be so complicated and difficult. It was time for you two to finally confront your emotions, and after three months, we both knew we had to up our efforts..."

"The High King was in on this!?" You squeaked, feeling embarrassment seize your heart.

"You know, despite being High King, Gil-Galad is still fun," Círdan defended with a smirk. "So, he devised new engagements to send Elrond here for - giving the two of you longer days together between my responses. He agreed to send Herald Elrond himself here upon my encouragement. From your first interaction, I saw what you two have always felt. It's good of you to admit your feelings, is it not? Relieving, I mean?"

"Terribly," you agreed, Elrond rubbing your waist in support.

"Well, then you'll be happy to know, I've begun my response to Gil-Galad, so you'll have a few more days here, Elrond. I expect that boat done," he teased, "and upon your return to Lindon, I will be sending my granddaughter to accompany you as my own emissary."

"What for?" You breathed in shocked happiness, lips turning up brightly.

"It is time you begin a new education, my girl," he grinned, "and the High King has granted his blessing."

"Why would the High King be involved for my education?"

"I want you on a tour of Middle-earth," he explained, "meeting dignitaries, taking notes on what you see, hear, experience. I want detailed accounts, my girl, for our records so the King has agreed to send Herald Elrond to guide your tour."

"You've done all of that... For me?" You couldn't help the tears that sprung to your eyes, pure glee lightening your heart and head. Then, a sudden thought made you worry, "Why? Do you wish to away with me?"

"On the contrary," Cirdan set aside his bowl and approached you, Elrond letting go so you two could meet in the middle of the workshop, "I despise the idea of letting you go, even to carry my work back to the High King... Knowing you'll return shortly... But sending you on this tour is a necessity, sweet girl, because I only trust your written accounts. It's time... It's time for you to see the world I've long protected you from as it truly is and bring us back update records and accounts, and who better to show it to you than Elrond Peredhel?" He smiled, looking over your shoulder at his ex-student. You felt Elrond near your flank, Círdan looking at the two of you fondly; even reaching out to caress your cheek as he breathed in deeply. "What joy my heart feels, knowing you two have found one another."

"What joy we feel you decided to play matchmaker," you chuckled.

"Well, they say perfection only exists in Valinor, but I was determined to challenge that."

part two: The Risk

requesting rules and masterlist

TROP masterlist

[illyrianbitch]

Of Our Own Devices

For @erisweekofficial Day 1: Bargains

Pairing: Reader x Eris

Summary: Desperate to reunite with Lucien since his exile to Spring, you find yourself paying an unexpected price to his older brother.

Warnings: some mentions of death & injury, swearing, spitfire reader and a cunty eris. <3

Word Count: 3.2k

Part Two

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

The storm had rolled in with frightening speed.

It was one of the rarer, powerful storms of Autumn. The type that caused the sky to turn to charcoal, produced lightning that illuminated the canopy of fall leaves and made them seem like flickering, live fires. 

You stumbled into the dimly lit cabin, drenched from the rain that had come pouring down in sheets. The cabin was one you had never seen before— a hidden refuge of Eris’s that you weren't aware existed. Despite its small size, it was surprisingly beautiful, furnished with deep, velvety fabrics. Eris had pulled you into the home without a word. 

Crossing your arms across your chest, you turned to him, watching as he shed his outer layer and hung it on a hook near the door. He moved to the cold, empty fireplace next, and with a flick of his fingers, he summoned a flame from his hand.  The flame danced briefly in his palm before he extended it toward the blackened wood in the hearth. 

Seconds later, a crackling sound filled the room, bringing the fire to life and filling the space with a warm, golden glow. Eris watched the flames for a moment. Then he stood up, facing you once more. 

"You promised me I'd be in Spring by tonight," you said. 

Eris tsked, brushing past you as he sat himself on a velvet, red couch. His scent lingered in the air—a smoky, strong aroma. A shiver ran through your body. You attributed the reaction to the influence of the rain on your warm skin. 

He didn't bother to meet your eye as he responded. "I promised no such thing. I said I'd take you to Spring tonight."

"Then take me."

He raised a brow and for a moment, you almost expected him to make a childlike comment, a brutish joke about the sentiment those words could hold outside of the context. But he didn't. His eyes, however, told you that he was thinking about it. It was unnerving, how you could read him so well, how years at Lucien's side had come with an unexpected consequence: becoming familiar with his brothers, too.

"It's a storm. Winnowing is risky in this weather," he said smoothly, voice as cool as ever. "I’m not risking both our lives just because you're impatient."

The wind howled outside the cabin, rattling the wooden shutters as you took a deep breath— in through your nose, out through your mouth. The eldest Vanserra noticed the frustration immediately, and your efforts to calm yourself dissipated as a small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

“I’m not staying here,” you snapped. “I’ll walk if I have to.”

At first glance, the couch appeared almost pristine, but as the firelight grew and you paid closer attention, you could make out traces of dark grey, black, and brown hairs—the hair of his hounds.  The detail settled somewhere inside you. You weren't sure where.

“If you do that, you’ll either die of exposure or run into my father’s men. Either way, not a great plan.”

You froze, your hands tightening around the fabric of your cloak as you grasped your arms, fingernails digging into the material. “So my options are to stay here with you or die?”

He shrugged lazily, but the motion still held a sense of regality to it, an eerily elegant form. It made you even angrier.

“Seems so," he said, a smile forming on his lips. It was as warm and genuine as a snake’s kiss, much like the disarming charm you had come to expect from Eris.

You'd never spent this long with him alone, never needed to manage his calculated gaze or purposely chosen words without the buffer of Lucien. You would've gladly gone your entire immortal life without doing so. But you missed Lucien— your heart ached without him, longed to be near him, to have his laugh echo in your ears. And this was the only way to be with him again, even for a few days.

And Eris knew that. He knew it all. You assumed it was why he bothered to take you in the first place. It gave him the pleasure of knowing he had power– control.

Your blood boiled.

“Are you enjoying this?” You stormed toward him, standing over the couch as he stretched, clearly unbothered by the storm—or your anger. “Trapping me here, knowing I have no choice.”

“Trapping you?” He laughed softly, sitting up slightly to meet your gaze. “You came to me, Vixen. If you want to go, the door’s right there.”

The sound of the wind howling through the trees outside made his offer ring hollow. You struggled to rummage through your thoughts, through the anger, frustration, and disgust that he managed to stir in you.

The stupid, stupid nickname was all you could focus on, now. Memories of a younger you flooded your senses, memories of a younger Eris, one much less rigid, much more open, almost. An Eris you crushed on. You'd never admit the truth to anyone— that the reason you and Lucien had become so close, despite your natural connection, was because once upon a time, he was glued to his older brothers hip. And so you'd glued yourself to Lucien's.

Eventually, the years evened things out, and your feelings flowed from the eldest Vanserra to the kindest one. To Lucien.

Lucien. Your mind reminded you. This was for Lucien. Don't piss Eris off, don't ruin your chances at seeing him again. Don't engage—

"Stop calling me that, you arrogant prick."

Your hands dropped to your sides, instinctively curling into fists as Eris peered at you with a burning, amused stare. His amber eyes gleamed like a predator toying with its prey.

"I see Lucien's absence has impacted your ability to maintain that temper. Those breathing exercises not working well for you?"

Something twisted deep in your gut.

"Now that I think about it, I think I'll take my chances with the storm."

Before you could make a move to leave, Eris was standing, his chest now inches away from you as he peered down at you. You didn't move, then, only straightened your shoulders and met his gaze.

Eris wasn’t the beefy, broad-shouldered type that other males in the court might have been. He didn’t have large, bulging muscles meant to intimidate. Instead, he was a lean kind of strong, with a pointed nose and sharp features that cut through the dim light of the cabin. He exuded a different kind of intimidation, one that stemmed from his inherent authority and the staunchness of his posture. He carried himself like a prince—elegant and commanding, every inch of him a testament to his future role.

Beron was merely keeping the throne warm until Eris was ready to claim it for himself.

"We both know you're not going to do that."

You tightened your fists further. "And why not?"

"Because you aren't stupid, Y/n."

Eris cocked his head, his eyes narrowing as he studied your face with a cold, calculating gaze. His features were sharp and chiseled, the faintest freckles dotting his high cheekbones. 

"You're not going to risk losing your chance to see Lucien."

 He leaned down and his breath fanned your face, warm and mingling with the scent of cedar and smoke. His eyes danced across your face, moving from holding your gaze to traveling further down, lingering on your lips—on the scowl you wore on them—before he met your eyes again. The fire's flames grew larger, consuming the oxygen in the air that had already seemed to be thinning. 

You said nothing as he continued, "Uncurl those fists, take that soaked cloak off, and wait. "

You stayed quiet, taking a deep breath before you stepped to the side, purposefully brushing your shoulder against his broad chest as you moved. Despite your urge to resist him out of spite, you reluctantly removed your cloak and tossed it on the clean floor of the cabin.

Eris scoffed. "Really? Must you act like a child?"

The floorboards cracked as he walked and, faintly, he mumbled something about how his hounds were better mannered. Eris picked up your cloak, dusting it off with a gentle hand before hanging it up next to his own.

"I'm curious," he began, glancing over his shoulder as he walked towards the couch. "Does Lucien know?"

You glared at him. You were growing tired now, the exhaustion of the trip slowly growing deep in your bones.

"What are you talking about?"

Eris smirked, his gaze lingering on you with a knowing glint as he settled back on the couch. "I'm talking about how you're in love with my sweet, sweet little brother."

You stiffened, a wave of emotion crashing over you—cold and awakening, a nauseating mix of embarrassment and fury. 

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Eris's face remained insufferably composed, a cocky grin playing at his lips. His eyes gleamed with a self-satisfied spark.

"No need to lie. It's just us two here," he purred. "I've always enjoyed how honest we can be with one another. It's why I preferred you over Jesminda."

A sharp, uncontrollable heat seared through every nerve in your body, a wave of anger surging like a wildfire.

"Keep her name out of your mouth."

It felt like a disgrace to have him say it, to hear her name immortalized on the tongue of the brother that allowed her to die. The brother that had killed her, according to Lucien. His sobs still echoed in your mind, the image of a broken male etched into your memory. You'd had only five minutes with him before he fled, five minutes of frenzied packing, desperate promises, and anguished confessions of what his father—and his brothers—had done.

Eris's gaze lingered as he analyzed you.

A beat passed.

Then another.

You were beginning to feel naked, as if he had stripped you of every defense you'd managed to muster around him. You turned away, unable to bear the weight of his stare any longer.

"I didn't kill her. I didn’t help.”

Your face went slack, caught off guard and momentarily confused. You pulled yourself together quickly, straightening your back, hoping he hadn’t noticed your reaction.  As you turned a little, your face almost sad now, you could’ve sworn you saw something in his eyes—something akin to regret, maybe even compassion.

Your voice was low, not bothering to hide the sadness, mourning, the raw anger, as you responded.

“I don’t believe you.”

The trace of care in his gaze vanished as he shrugged, the same indifferent gesture he’d made earlier. “Have I ever lied to you?”

You stared at him, taking him in with the same analyzing gaze he'd offered you. 

It was strange how alike he and Lucien looked, how alike yet so different all the same. But the longer you stared, the more you began to feel stuck— hypnotized, tempted to walk closer to him, to ask him what it was that went on in his mind, what caused those flickers of emotions you couldn't name across his face. 

But another moment passed, and all you could see was a male who Lucien hated, a male who was selfish, who reveled in the pain caused by chaos.  Your mind drifted to other rumors and stories you’d heard about him. You settled on one in particular. 

"You left an innocent female to die in the woods because she didn't want to mary you. Butchering your brother's lover doesn't seem outside of your past-times."

A cold shift washed over Eris’s face. His disinterested expression hardened into a mask of disappointment, then flared into a simmering anger. It was a contained fury, like a finely tuned flame.

"Don't tell me you believe the lies of Night Court trash. Surely you're smarter than that. I know you are."

"Fuck you," you snarled. "You know nothing about me. I'm not going to let you play some twisted mind games with me. I'm not a doll."

He shook his head. "You are not."

A beat. Then a smirk grew on his lips. "But you are just as pretty as one, if we're still being honest. You're wasted in your one-sided love, Y/n."

You said nothing, turning to walk to the other side of the cabin. The corner held a bookshelf with carefully arranged volumes, a finely crafted wooden table, and a collection of artifacts on the windowsill.

Eris just laughed behind you, a sound so smooth and soothing that it felt sinful against your skin.

You resisted the temptation to snoop, to explore the cabin and bask in the rare vulnerability of the brother who had always captivated you in the most wretched of ways. It felt strange seeing him like this—relaxed, almost at ease— as if simply crossing the threshold of this modest cabin had stripped away the invisible chains and burdens only a prince could bear.

You stayed still and stared out the window, focusing on the sounds of the storm. You hoped that the rain would drown out the sounds of his breathing— sounds that rang too loud in your mind. You didn't want to know why he seemed to do that, why he lingered so deeply in your head. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The storm raged on for a few more hours.

The time was spent in tense silence—at least for you. Eris remained on the couch, reading through a novel about the history of the continent. You would've never thought him to enjoy such a thing, to want to know about those outside of his court, of mortals, humans, no less.

And when the rain finally stopped, he rose wordlessly. With a brief gesture toward your cloak, he led you out, winnowing you the rest of the way in silence.

When you finally reached the border of Spring, a wave of relief washed over you.

The vibrant greens of the new season were almost blinding after the gloom of the storm. You took a step forward, eager to escape the tension that had gripped you for hours. You'd be with Lucien soon, be able to hug him, to tell him of all the things he'd missed in your life since his exile. 

But before you could move any further, Eris's hand closed around your arm. You turned to him with a glare, meeting his glowing gaze and infuriatingly calm smile.

“Are we forgetting payment?”

You strengthened your glare, gritting your teeth before you pulled yourself out of his grasp, reaching for the small bag hidden within your layers. 

Eris stopped you with a casual wave. “I don’t want your money.”

You stiffened, straightening your posture. The sounds of Spring echoed behind you, their vibrant melodies almost taunting as you lingered on the border. Eris’s smile shifted into a smirk, his eyes glinting with something dangerous, something that made you swallow instinctively. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask sooner.”

You thought back to how he had offered to take you to Lucien, how this entire arrangement had been his idea. You should've held back, should've been more wary of his motives. But you'd been too excited, been too blinded by the joy of being with Lucien once more. 

“What do you want, Eris?” 

He took a moment to take you in fully, eyes scanning you from head to toe, and then he took a small step back.

“A bargain,” he finally said.

 “A bargain?” 

He nodded. “You will not tell Lucien it was me who brought you here.”

You frowned, a crease forming between your brows as you blinked at the male before you. Perhaps you'd heard him wrong. “What?”

“If he asks, you’ll say you bought off a hunter in Autumn, a mercenary. Whatever you’d like,” Eris continued.

You drew your brows tighter. 

“I thought you'd want to revel in the fact that he might somehow owe you. Prove your power, even."

Eris shrugged nonchalantly. “Then maybe you don’t know me as well as you’d like to think.”

He extended his hand, his palm open and the gleam of his ring-clad fingers catching the light. You hesitated for a moment, body still stiff with unease, with confusion. 

You scanned his face. Eris loved played games. This was no different. There was no point in reading into it. So you rolled your eyes and prepared to shake on it, reaching for his hand.  He pulled it slightly out of reach.

“What now?” You groaned.

He hummed in amusement.

“And when I come to get you to return to Autumn, I want your help.”

You raised a brow. “My help?” you asked, incredulously. "How the hell would I ever be able to help you?"

Your family had no title, no powers beyond a tame ability to fight and heal. You survived in Autumn because you were ordinary—and ordinary meant no one looked for you. Noticed you. 

“I want to call in a favor,” he clarified.

“What favor?"

"We'll see," Eris said with a smile and a tilt of his head. “I think you could help me out dearly."

You let his words settle for a moment. His eyes, glistening with a dangerous glow, seemed to hold something predatory, something that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. There must've been an underlying threat in his proposition, something sinister you had yet to notice. After all, he was a male known for his ruthlessness— 

You stiffened.

He was a male. There was one easy way for males to assert their dominance, to gain pleasure, to accept payment. 

You took a step back instinctively and Eris’s gaze tracked your movement before returning to meet your eyes. A shadow flickered in his eyes, reminiscent of the dark, unsettlingly soft gleam you’d seen in his cabin when he first glimpsed your saddened expression. Seconds later, his face shifted to one of mild amusement. He rolled his eyes with an empty chuckle.

“Settle yourself, Y/n. Not that kind of favor. I can bed females without resorting to bargaining for their affections,” he said, his tone dripping with condescension.

A flush of embarrassment crept up your cheeks. You looked to the ground for a moment, taking a deep breath as you regained your composure. When you finally met his gaze again, he was already extending his hand towards you once more.

“A favor in the future in exchange for this time with Lucien,” he purred smoothly. “And your silence. Consider it our little secret.”

The smirk that grew on his lips was maddening and you could feel the heat of his gaze, the flickering fire of his amber eyes urging you to comply. Every instinct told you that binding yourself to him was a terrible idea.

You glanced back over your shoulder, looking to the green, sunny expanse behind you. Lucien was there, somewhere amongst the greenery, and with a simple bargain you'd be with him again. 

Without a second thought, you turned back to Eris and took his hand.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

happy eris week yall!!! rising from the dead specifically to post this lol, i fear i love this pairing so lets see if i decide i wanna write anything else for them. thank you for reading!! (i miss writing so so so much)

i might make this into a miniseries, so lmk if you’d like

to be tagged <3

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @panther-girl-124 @bubybubsters

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia  @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot

@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound-blog

@melissat1254

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

[kisses4reid]

convenient pt. 2 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

pt. 1 (you cannot read part 2 with no context).

summary - he totally just cares if you pass your exams, nothing else. there is no other reason he keeps coming back to your convenience store.

genre - fluff, fem!college!reader x early season!spencer

warnings - school work, incorrect science stuff bc i’m just a girl

a/n - thank you all for the love on the first part!!! it was so surprising, especially since it was the first fic i’ve uploaded on this blog, i love y’all so much 🫶 thank you to those who suggested to make this a series, i would’ve totally made this a oneshot if not for y’all.

“you got any plans tonight spencer?”, morgan asked, taking his jacket off the back of his chair, passing spencer’s clean desk.

“uh, yeah actually.”

“really?” morgan stopped beside him, looking over his shoulder, a smirk crawling up, “with who?”

“moby dick.” spencer lied, morgan rolled his eyes.

“you’re no fun man.”

the doorbell rang, but after not seeing a certain skinny man for two nights, you’re mind starting to reset into the ‘studying grind mode’ it had been on before meeting spencer. stop thinking about spencer, keep studying.

three ladies dressed in short skirts, a white man with dreads (yikes), and a boy around 8 years old checked out with various items before a 3 minute cannelloni, bag of coffee, and an apple landed in front of you. before you could look up he spoke,

“how did your assignment go?” you jumped in your seat, nearly punching the man in the face before you placed a hand over your heart and sighed,

“good lord, you need to learn how to walk louder.”

spencer grinned. you scanned the cannelloni, he glanced at your hand still over your heart.

“rubatosis.”

“bless you?”

“the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat.” you glanced up and saw him looking at your hand with a thin lipped awkward smile. you quickly put your hand down and continued scanning, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“we all know words. like… vellichor.” you spoke, packing his things in the same plastic bag he brought just little of a week ago. he tilted his head,

“the love of used bookstores?”

“i saw old books in your car.”

“you were looking in my car?” he put his hands in his pockets, as he looked out the window to his parked vehicle, not planning to pick up his bag of ‘groceries’ anytime soon. only then did you notice his tie was askew, his hair a little disheveled, his eyes a little sunken. the doorbell rung, a middle-aged balding man walking in behind spencer.

“i’m observant. $12.98.” he whipped out a slim wallet from his back pocket, flicking through some notes to pull out a $20. you ruffled through the register for his change as he remarked,

“you didn’t even look at the register.”

“don’t need to, you’re predictable.” you reply with a sneaky smile, causing spencer to copy reluctantly.

there was an awkward cough from behind him, the middle-aged man. spencer turned back to you after realising that he was in fact in a convenience store, and you were in fact the only worker there. “sorry sir, um. bye.” he took his bag, the thin lipped smile becoming nearly as predictable as his late-night groceries.

“bye.”

the tall, awkward, superbly smart man who smelt like wood didn’t show up for 5 nights. you thought there were only three possibilities at his absence: sickness, death, or he’s learnt how to cook.

you thought the next time you saw him you would ask more about him. in between studying, classes, and working, there wasn’t much time for a social life in your day to day. or maybe you wouldn’t. maybe he wasn’t showing up because he wasn’t really a regular, just a guy who needed quick meals, coffee, and apples on those specific nights. that’s insane, you are insane, get back to studying.

you almost didn’t recognise him the next night. same clothes, same height, same cologne, different face. dark circles under his eyes, permanent lines between his eyebrows, and a purple bruise on his left cheek. it was silent, he was the only customer at 11:30pm. you both made eye contact while you scanned his items, (same things plus a travel first aid kit) silently observing his expectant expression before you broke the silence.

“i’m not going to ask.”

“i got hit with the butt of a gun.” he said matter of factly.

you halted, coffee bag in hand, and stared at him, squinting. “…okay. actually i am gonna ask. who would hit a librarian with the butt of a gun?”

he scrunched his eyebrows and tilted his head, blinking, “i’m not a librarian. why do you think i’m a librarian?”

you packed his things, “smart, dressed posh, just general mysterious good looking librarian vibe,” he handed you a $20, “you remind me of a pipe cleaner with eyes.”

he raised an eyebrow, breaking eye contact, “not the first time i’ve heard that.”

you laughed, thinking it was a joke. his shoulders relaxed, the lines between his eyebrows softening. he grabbed his things, “bye, y/n.”

“bye, spencer.”

you were so close to finding out more about him. how the hell does a man that looks like that get into so much trouble?

you finish your shift, packing your textbooks and now flat laptop, locking everything up and turning the lights off. it was 1am. and, spencer was asleep in his car.

you looked around and put your jacket around your shoulders before jogging up to his driver’s window. his head was lulled to one side, mouth closed, chest rising softly. you knocked, and suddenly he was wide-eyed and searching for something.

“spencer? what are you still doing here?” you speak just loud enough for him to hear behind the window, which he promptly put down. you had a split second realisation how crazy this was. checking in on a regular, watching a regular sleep, feeling safe enough to approach a man’s car just because he buys the same thing every night he comes to the convenience store.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to fall asleep. i- uh,” he wiped his face, “sorry.”

you look at him with concern, “it’s okay, just.. try not to look like you were waiting for me to finish my shift to kidnap me next time, okay?”

he sighed and nodded. waving goodbye, you started down the street, your apartment only being a block away. over the music now playing in your ears, you heard a car drive away, mixing with your confused thoughts about who this regular really is and what he does for a living. and how does he look that good.

he was back the next night, same black slacks, with a purple sweater a shade darker than your own.

“hey spencer, before i scan your 3 minute bolognese, coffee and bag of apples-“

“how did you get that perfectly-“

“i’m going to ask this and you’re going to answer, okay?”

you know nothing about this man, but talking to him like a good friend felt natural now. though, you still tried to avoid over stepping it.

“-though you don’t actually have to answer it. you are a customer and i can’t force customers to do anything but- seeing as though you know i’m a college student and that i work at this convenience store and that i sort of suck at biology- sorry i’m rambling,” you take a breath, “where do you work?” you finish, spencer smiling slightly. you were surprised he didn’t cut you off to stop you, like everyone else did. he didn’t answer at first, the squeak of your shoe against the floor displayed your anxious tell.

“i can’t tell you.”

you sighed, rolling your eyes and packing his stuff, he already had a $20 ready in his hand. you took it, fingers brushing slightly against his. “you suck, and your so suspicious. i should just call security.”

he looked around, fiddling his fingers together, “you don’t have security.”

you pointed to a dead cockroach outside underneath the warm street light. “yes we do. why do you think he’s twitching? he’s insane, he’ll hurt you.”

he chuckled, the sound bringing a shade of pink to your cheeks. “you don’t work on weekends.”

you squinted, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and maybe a bit of fear. “what.”

“i came in on a weekend and a man was here.” he explained as you nodded.

“yeah, no i don’t. why?”

spencer gulped, taking his bag, and smiling awkwardly, “nothing, bye!”

you waved, confused. also stressed, you hadn’t worked on your psychology assignment while waiting for him to show up.

pt. 3

taglist- @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @wannabewolf @evysian @trashmonstersara

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Joel acts like he doesn’t like you until he comes across your rapist.]

TW: MENTION OF RAPE. Angst

“What did he do?” His voice was low, eerie like, suddenly he looked angry as you stood still before him.

Ever since Tess had died Joel became more unbearable to deal with. The two of you had only known each other a couple months before she passed away but never got close to one another, if anything Joel acted like he didn’t like having you around. He barely held any conversations with you unless it involved a plan he needed you to be on the same page with him about. Silently he’d share food with you but that was pretty much as far as he’d go.

“Get up, we’re gonna keep moving today” Joel woke you up out of your sleep gathering his belongings as you sighed.

“I thought you said we’d stay here for two nights-“

“Plans changed. We’re leaving soon” you groaned as you got on your feet and began to pack. This journey to Marlene seemed a lot longer than you thought it would be.

“Are you sure Marlene even has what you want?” You asked with a sigh. He didn’t respond instead handing you your weapon so you could follow him out.

Walking with Joel through the woods your foot accidentally slid down a rock making you gasp loudly. Joel quickly turned with his knife ready to attack only to find you straightening your shirt.

“I slipped” he didn’t respond only looking irritated and turned back to continue walking. You didn’t understand why Joel always seemed so bothered by you, had he not promised Tess that he’d look after you, he wouldn’t have stuck around with you. Tess never shared to him the true reason why she wanted him to care for you but when you first met her you had confided in her the brutal things that you overcame. One of them being that you were held captive for a couple months by a group not far out, one of the men in their group being your rapist, you were always afraid to come across this man again. Little did Tess know, this very same man was running things alongside Marlene.

“Joel, have I done something to upset you at any point?” You asked trying to keep up with him.

“No” he responded without looking your way.

“So what’s your issue?”

“I don’t have a damn issue, now let’s keep moving” you gave up at that point not saying a word. Joel truly didn’t have a specific issue with you, he just chose to not allow himself to get close to anyone ever again, he had lost too much.

Finally making it to Marlene’s you followed behind Joel walking in. You had no idea whom Marlene was or anything about the place but being with Joel you just did as he said. Standing beside him a few feet away you were introduced to Marlene. She seemed like a woman who was strictly about business, she spoke to him of the car she had promised.

Of course, tomorrow it would be ready.

You didn’t speak during their conversation, not thinking much of anything until the door opened and a man walked in. Instantly your heart sunk, your stomach turned as the man stood by Marlene confidently before noticing you.

“This is my right hand man, he does what I say, when I say and can always be counted on” Marlene introduced the man beside her, you found yourself unable to speak. You knew who this man was, how could you not?

Edward….you’d never forget his name, one year ago this man made your life a living hell. Your throat felt like it was closing up, your heart racing-

“Look who it is” Edward grinned towards you making Marlene raise a brow at you. Joel turned to you as you looked down taking a deep breath.

“Small world” Marlene muttered but Joel noticed something off with your reaction.

“Anyways, Joel” Marlene got his attention explaining what would happen.

“Tomorrow before the evening I should have a car for you, for now you two can stay in a room I have prepped” Joel didn’t like the idea of staying an extra day but silently nodded and took the offer. Thankfully Edward and Marlene left the room before someone else led you to the room you would both stay in. Your heart felt like it would come out your chest but you couldn’t find it in you to speak. Joel walked ahead of you opening the door to the room. You stood by the door closing it behind you watching as he placed his backpack on the bed without looking back. Your body felt as if it would collapse any moment, you couldn’t stay here, you couldn’t be around Edward yet you knew you couldn’t say a thing.

That night Joel noticed you seemed a bit fidgety but he didn’t say a word. He lay back on his bed and watched as you double checked the locks on the door twice before laying down.

“You know we’re safe here right?” You looked up not noticing Joel had been watching you.

“Y-yeah” you nodded before turning over and facing the wall. That night you didn’t sleep, if anything you hoped Joel would sleep so he wouldn’t hear you crying in the middle of the night. Of course that didn’t work, at one point Joel opened his eyes thinking he was hearing something but he couldn’t make out what it was until he looked over and noticed you seemed like you were trembling. Quickly he sat up unsure of what to do, slowly he got up from the bed and noticed you were whimpering in your sleep. He didn’t know what the hell to do, he’d never seen you like this before but he knew damn well what it felt like. Delicately he placed his hand on your shoulder and tried to wake you.

“Hey” you continued to whimper but wouldn’t open your eyes. Joel cleared his throat and leaned in closer to you prepared for you to be startled.

“Hey wake up” he shook you a little harder making your eyes quickly open. You gasped unaware who was near you, unaware that you had even been dreaming, raising your hand ready to hit whoever it was Joel caught your wrist in mid air.

“Easy, honey”

You looked up at him confused, you hadn’t even realized you fell asleep now here was Joel looking down at you with concern. Once he was sure that you knew it was him, he released your arm as you tried to catch your breath.

“I’m sorry” you whispered.

“It’s alright, just havin’ a bad dream is all” he looked at you for a moment curious to ask you what was it that made you so upset but didn’t say a word.

“I’m right here if you need me” he motioned towards the bed on the other side of the room. You quietly nodded and watched as he got back into bed. Turning away from him you could feel the embarrassment from what had just happened yet you were surpsied by how gentle he handled it. It was a new side you both had seen of each other.

The next day you did your best to stay clear from wherever Eduardo could be, and so you decided to stay in the room.

Just one more day of this, one day and you’d be gone. Joel explained to you that he would be going over something with Marlene leaving you by yourself. You assured him it was fine and sat on the bed reading a book you always carried around after making sure the door was locked. Sometime had passed when you heard the door unlock and you figured it was Joel. Laying comfortably facing the wall you flipped the page hearing the door close behind you.

“What happened with Marlene?” You asked when you felt the touch of a hand on your arm making you turn to see it was the very person you had been trying to avoid.

Edward

Quickly you jumped up, your back against the wall as he smirked at your reaction.

“It’s been a while” you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t believe he was right in front of you.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost” he chuckled placing his hand on your thigh. If you could move any further away you would’ve, he could see how anxious he made you.

“Relax, sweetheart I’m not gonna do anything” he licked his bottom lip pushing his hand further up your thigh.

“I just wanted to say hi to an old friend”

He leaned in and kissed your cheek as you tried to turn away.

“It’s a shame you’re leaving tomorrow, thought we could’ve had some fun” he laughed walking back out of the room and closed the door shut.

In shock you sat there with disgust, the simple touch or his hand on your thigh making you sick to your stomach.

You couldn’t do this, you didn’t care about a damn car no matter how badly you both needed it. Quickly you got up running to the door locking it shut once again afraid he would return.

Where the hell was Joel…all you wanted to do was leave.

After what felt like forever you finally heard the door begin to unlock, your heart jumping at the sound.

“Joel?” You called out worriedly to see his face as soon as the door opened.

“Yeah, it’s me” he walked past you not noticing the panic attack you were feeling in that moment.

You watched as he fold a paper and placed it in his backpack, a knot in your throat you struggled to speak.

“Joel” you finally were able to utter a word in a soft whisper. Going through his backpack he didn’t respond not having heard your voice. You struggled to speak again, stomach turning just at the thought of your rapist knowing where you were…the fact that he came to you when you were alone..

“Joel” you spoke a little louder where he was able to hear you.

“Yea” he responded as he zipped up his bag.

“Joel…I can’t stay here another night” you blurt out.

“What?” He asked confused with your statement still not looking back.

“We’re fine here, it’s just till the afternoon’” he assured you making your panic rise.

“No, I…Joel I can’t stay here” he noticed how your voice trembled and slowly turned to you. His eyebrows furrowed once he noticed the worry in your eyes.

“What’s the matter?” He stood straight fully facing you.

“Can we just go?” You didn’t want to give the reason, you didn’t want to speak of it.

“We’re getting the car tomorrow, its just one more night-“

“Joel please” you whispered taking a deep breath making him take a step closer. He stood silent, he could tell something had terrified you.

“Somethin’ happen while I was gone?” He asked making you quickly shake your head.

“No, no just please-“ you began to hyperventilate.

“I can’t, I can’t-“ you struggled to breathe when someone knocking on the door made you run into Joels arms. Confused he looked down at you slowly placing his hands on your back sensing the true horror you felt.

“Hey, hey it’s alright, it’s alright” he whispered feeling you shake in his arms. It was like the night before, all over again only this time something in your waking life was scaring the shit out of you. The sound of another knock making you grab onto his shirt.

“Give me a minute!” He called out feeling you hide your face against his chest.

“Hey” he whispered low looking down at you but before he could say another word Edwards voice heightened your fear.

“It’s me, Edward” your eyes widened as you silently began to shake your head.

“What is it, darlin’?” Your panic not allowing you to realize the softness Joel had in his voice with concern over you. The door suddenly opening sending you rushing behind Joel.

Edward appeared at the door.

“I was just making sure you guys had what you needed” a smile Joel didn’t trust appeared on his lips as he leaned over to get a peak at you. You felt Joel’s hand reach behind you holding you against him.

Edward could see the defensive look in Joel’s eyes and wondered if you had told him anything.

“What’s wrong with her?” He asked testing what he would say.

“I got her” is all Joel responded with as Edward looked at him curiously. Not saying another word Edward took a step back giving Joel a nod before leaving the room. Joel waited until he disappeared from his site before giving your thigh a tap behind him.

“He’s gone” he assured you making you slowly peak over his shoulder to see the empty hallway that led to the room. Quickly you ran to the door shutting it closed and locking it with each lock it had.

“We need to get our stuff and get out of here now” you ran to grab your bag and his before he tried to stop you.

“Wait a minute, wait-“ he grabbed you by your arms stopping you before you grabbed anything else. Joel was struggling to understand what exactly had you so afraid of this man.

“Joel, we need to go-“

“Talk to me for a minute”

“No! There’s nothing to talk about, I am not staying here!” You screamed trying to break free from his hold.

“What the hell did he do to you?!”

“Nothing!” You tried to shake his hands off you once more but failed.

“We can’t leave without that car, we need that car if we wanna make it-“

“I don’t care! I’m not staying here with him!”

“He’s not gonna do anything to you, darlin’ I promise you that-“ you shook your head in frustration that he wasn’t understanding.

“He won’t lay a finger on you-“

“He already has!” You suddenly blurt out silencing Joel. An intense look in his eyes as he took a deep breath looking down at you.

“What did he do?” His voice was low, eerie like, suddenly he looked angry as you stood still before him.

“It was long ago” you whispered.

“Doesn’t matter” he quickly responded.

“I had told Tess, I never thought I would see him again….it was a year ago…I had nowhere to go and he said he would help me. He’s the man who raped me.” you looked down as a tear rolled down your cheek.

“Did he come in here while I was gone?” He leaned in closer. You looked up and hesitantly nodded when he abruptly walked out past you charging down the hall.

“Joel!” You called out for him trying to keep up but all Joel could see was red.

“What are you doing?!” You yelled as he kicked the door open where Marlene and Edward both were. Without warning he yanked up Edward by his collar throwing him against the wall as Marlene stood up.

“Joel what the hell are you doing?”

“Stay out of this” he looked at her with a look you had never seen and grabbed Edward once again as he struggled to get on his feet.

“Whatever she said she’s a lying bitch!” He tried to poorly defend himself causing Joel to punch him repeatedly. In shock you stood in the doorway watching it all play out, Joel had lost complete control until Edward was a bloody mess.

“Oh my god-“ you whispered.

Joel stood up and walked towards Marlene who backed up not knowing what he would do.

“Give me the fucking keys” he spoke out of breath. Not even trying to fight him she opened the drawer and tossed him the car keys before he looked back at Eduardo.

“Should be more careful of who you have workin’ for ya. Got a rapist on your hands” Joel walked out of the room without looking at you in the eye, taking your hand he led you out.

In disbelief you walked alongside him trying to keep up, at one point looking behind you.

He still wouldn’t say a word.

Joel opened the car door for you and quickly got in the drivers seat before driving off.

Speeding down the road he didn’t take his eyes off it before abruptly pulling over. You could see him though the corner of your eye turning his body fully toward you, you didn’t know what to expect.

“You don’t ever keep somethin’ like that from me again. We clear?” You nodded in silence looking down at your lap.

“We would’ve never stayed there for even one night had I know what he done to you. You ever feel unsafe again I need ya to tell me and you tell me right away”

“Yes Joel” you whispered.

Turning back towads the road he pulled off feeling he came off kind of harsh towards you which wasn’t what he wanted. Unexpectedly you felt him place his hand on your lap bringing you a sense of calmness. He slowly entangled his fingers with yours without looking your way, you had no idea what this meant but one thing was for sure..

Joel made you feel safe.

[fairyysoup]

the devil i know

chapter one: god you've got the blackest eyes

(repost)

fic tag | fic playlist | fic masterlist

pairing(s): crossroads demon!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: To summon a demon at a crossroads, simply cast a circle, make an offering, and recite an incantation. What happens from that point on is subject to your desire… and the demon’s.

cw: explicit, smut, dubcon elements, making a deal with a demon, inspired by american and european folklore, sacrilegious themes, horror, witch!reader, reader is 21+ in modern day, eddie is immortal, coercion (a bit), sex pact, marking, possessive behavior, animal death, trauma, reader is ostracized by her very religious hometown, dark comedy, tfw your accidental boyfriend is a demon who is obsessed with you bc he doesn’t know how to be normal about anything ever, dead dove: do not eat

please check masterlist and individual parts for content warnings before reading. this fic contains dark themes. your media consumption is your own responsibility.

a/n: Hi folks, for the month of October this year I'm going to be reuploading all the chapters of this fic onto tumblr, this time hopefully for good. I apologize for the time that it's been taken down. Genuinely, this fic has garnered so much kindness and support and I think of it as one of my biggest accomplishments. I hope you all enjoy it just as much the second time around as the first.

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

Through me you pass into the city of woe, Through me you pass into eternal pain, Through me you pass among forsaken people. Justice moved my exalted creator; I was wrought by divine power, Supreme wisdom, and primal love. Before me all things created were eternal, And eternal I endure. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here. -Dante Alighieri, The Inferno, Canto III

The book you’ve used for ages now, since late in your junior year of high school, has only one page in it that you haven’t utilized. You don’t know how much faith to put in it– you’re a little short on faith, these days– but, the spellbook lays it out simply, so you follow its directions to the letter. 

To summon a demon at a crossroads, go to a place where two paths meet on the dark moon. You find peace and quiet in the woods, deep where you know no one walks at night but two paths cross in a small clearing banked with trees. It’s your favorite place to go when you want to do a spell– ritual– and you don’t want to be bothered. The whole thing can’t be more than twenty feet across. Above the overhang of trees, there’s no moon in the sky, only stars.

Cast a circle of protection. That took more research than just the book in your hands, but years of collecting information have given you learned knowledge– there are a million ways to cast a circle, and different circles for different purposes. You do your best to create one for protection. You draw a literal circle in the dirt with a stick, fill it with salt, and walk around the circle three times clockwise to cast it. You light candles to give yourself some light, and to free up your hands of the flashlight you carried to see your way through the woods. 

Make an offering of copper. Your hand pauses on the copper dog tag in your hand. You’d thought of just offering a penny, but you remembered reading somewhere that pennies barely contain copper anymore, and you didn’t have anything else that was entirely made of the one metal. 

You run your finger over the embossed name on it. Lacey. Your pet’s old collar feels heavy in your hand as you remove the tag from the leather strap and bury it in the earth, you guess, to reach the… Underworld? Hell? You can’t honestly say, considering the text you’re referencing only calls it the Otherworld.

It’s a big sacrifice. It’s personal. But, you guess, that gives it more meaning. Making a deal is personal business, and you have your reasons.

Recite the summoning incantation. A stanza of words you don’t understand. You don’t think it’s in Latin, but you try your best, all the same. You read them from the book before you, and feel your blood rushing in your veins as you do.

State your desire out loud in a clear voice. Well, that’s a little more difficult. What is it that you want?

You take a breath, go to speak, and then stop. You don’t know how to start. You don’t know exactly how to describe your pain. You don’t know how to voice your anger well enough, you just know you need to… you need to get it out, somehow. This is a very crucial step in the ritual, you have to do it.

“I came here to make a deal,” you speak frankly, clearly. “I’m prepared to do anything. I’ve run out of options. I’ve been hurt too many times, by too many people who didn’t care what they did to me. I’ve lost everything I genuinely loved. I’m… I’m angry, and desperate, and I’m frightened. And I feel so alone. It’s eating me alive, and I just… I just want the ability to make things go my way, for once.” Good enough, you hope.

Wait for an answer.

You do. You listen intently, to the song of the leaves in the trees rustling in the slight breeze, to the crickets chirping in the grass. You wait long enough that you start to rethink your approach. 

It could be that things will turn around if you just wait another month, or another month after that. Maybe you’ll get the car back. Maybe you’ll get the promotion that was given to the newbie that you trained. Maybe your ex will stop coming around your work to intimidate you. Maybe you’ll get a new dog to take the place of the one that he killed. Maybe the evangelical town you live in will stop shunning you and calling you a witch, like something out of the middle ages.

Unlikely, that last one.

Just when you swear it’s a failure, that you should just pack up and leave, that’s when a strong gust of wind rips through the clearing out of nowhere. The candles blow out– and then, oddly enough, relight themselves. There’s a slight scent of smoke on the breeze, and you look around to make sure none of the candles fell over in the wind.

They’re all perfectly fine. There’s nothing amiss, it seems, until you hear a cough and movement across the clearing. You look forward, and see a pair of black combat boots in the stream of light from your flashlight. You follow the boots up to a pair of legs, clad in dark jeans, and then further up, to a torso, and a head, and a pair of sparkling eyes.

“Hi.”

You stare at him, probably looking like a fish out of water with the way your mouth opens and closes. You’d fully expected the traditional scary depiction of a demon– maybe horns, goat hooves, et cetera. But the man that answered your call is… just a man. A pretty one. He has long, curly hair, which falls over his broad shoulders and stirs in the wind. His plush lips curve up in a relaxed, cocky smile, as he takes in the sight of you in return. 

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “Are you just gonna stare at me all night?” 

“Sorry, hi. Hello.” You shake your head. “Can you believe I honestly thought I’ve been doing it wrong this whole time?” 

“I can believe a lot of things. You know, there’s a reason why the demon summoning ritual is first in that book.” His voice is soft and resonant. You get a mental image of heat waves radiating from tar-black and glowing magma, rolling slowly over lava beds. The image disappears just as soon as it flashes into your mind.

“Well, to be completely honest, I wasn’t sure how I felt about making a deal with a demon first thing,” you explain, looking away shyly. “But I’ve tried all the spells in this book and not a single one of them worked. Just seems like everything is getting worse all the time.”

He doesn’t look away– rather, he keeps staring at you, unblinkingly. Like you’re the most fascinating creature he’s ever seen. He leans up against the tree that he appeared beside, his leather jacket falling open to reveal a shirt with a demon’s head on it. Fitting. He takes a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket. 

“So, now you wanna make a deal with little ol’ me, huh?” He grins, a gorgeous smile that flashes bright, sharp teeth at you. He lifts a cigarette to his mouth and bites it gently between his teeth. He doesn’t pull out a lighter. Instead, you watch him light up with a small flame that erupts from the tip of his thumb. 

“Depends on who you are,” you retort, eyes following the movement of his hands. They’re weighed down by large, silver rings that reflect the light of the flame before it snuffs out. “What’s your name?”

He makes a short noise in his throat, shaking his head abruptly. He doesn’t look nearly as intimidating as you feel he should– more like he’s trying to warn you against something you don’t want. He peers at you from beneath his wavy bangs as he pulls the cigarette from his mouth and uses it to point at you. “Names are really powerful things where I come from, babydoll. Best not to bite off more than you can chew yet. Once we cut a deal– that’s when you get my name.”

You make a face as you mull that over. “So what do I call you, in the meantime? Demon daddy?” 

“You could,” he chuckles. The demon rocks to the side, crossing his legs at the ankles. “If you really wanted to. I wouldn’t mind, it’s flattering.” 

You grunt. “I think I’ll pass on that, actually.” He tilts his head with a sicker, watching you with an amused smile while you shift in place. “So, do I– I mean, you need to know what I want, right? Is that how this starts?”

“No, I know what you want.” He exhales a stream of smoke from his nostrils. “You want power. To get a fair shake, find your place, change your life. Defend yourself against the assholes making that life, well. A living hell.” As he spits out the words, his voice rings sharp through the trees, like the strike of a hammer on glowing metal, shooting sparks off into the air. 

“I want to take all this pain and just… return to sender. Give it back to them, y’know? I never wanted any of it,” you justify. Your voice is too small in comparison with his. “Maybe then I’ll be able to fucking breathe.”

For how little space you allow yourself to take up, he seems to consume the rest of it. He nods slowly. “That’s a fair request, sweetheart.”

“It’s selfish, I know.”

“Making a deal for power is inherently a selfish thing,” he shrugs. “Own it. I’m certainly not judging.”

You let out a shaky breath. You’re still so nervous, being so near him– ten feet away and growing closer every second, it seems, even though neither of you have moved. You feel like, no matter how far you pull back, the flow of fiery lava he seems to embody will keep creeping towards you until you’re burned alive.

His dark eyes glow like coals in the night as he looks you up and down, and then he quickly pushes himself away from the tree. You startle at the abrupt movement, and watch as he swings around it like Gene Kelly on a lamp post. 

When he rounds the tree, he uses the momentum to throw himself toward your circle. You flinch, and he frowns, but continues moving toward you at a slower pace, holding his hands out innocently. “Wanna know a secret? About how all this,” he twirls a finger in the air, indicating the ritual you’re in the middle of, “works?”

You nod, gazing up at him shyly. If you felt at all powerful while casting the circle and starting the ritual, he’s managed to take the wind out of your sails. You can feel the power radiating off of him in waves.

He smirks at you. “You make your petition– when you say the words in that little book,” he points at the volume at your feet, “and that petition is answered by whichever demon caters most to that desire.” He points at himself emphatically, his eyebrows raised. “Me? Infernal majesty of freaks and misfits. I’m your demon daddy.”

You finally giggle, and it makes him smile fondly, like that’s what he’d been gunning for all along. He backs up a step and puffs his cigarette. 

“I’m here to help you, sweetheart.” He regards you for a second, like he’s thinking things over. “That is, as long as you agree to my terms.”

“Terms?” You echo, but you were sort of expecting that. Nothing for nothing, right? “What are the terms?”

“Ah, they’re simple. Very traditional,” he waves his hand like it’s frivolous. He holds his hand out in midair, and just like how he’d conjured the flames, he produces a weathered book. It looks like a composition book that has scribbles and doodles all over the front of it– the same demon head that adorns his shirt. “You sign your name with your blood in my little black book, you hop on one foot with your hand on your head and pledge your undying fealty to the dark lord Kthulu, and then you meet me on the sabbath to kill a child and make them into soup.” 

He smiles, fluttering his eyelashes at you innocently. 

“Are you fucking serious?” You blurt. 

“Of course I’m not fucking serious– what is this, the dark ages?” He snorts as he lowers the composition book. “Nah, we don’t do human sacrifice on the sabbath anymore, it was getting too difficult to evade the witch hunters.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He flashes you a disarming grin. You can feel yourself halfway smirking as well, incredulous but somehow enjoying his humor. Then he shakes his head and says, seriously, “No, you do have to sign my book, though. And then meet me back here on the full moon to fuck.”

You blink at him, reeling from the whiplash of that. “You… I’m sorry?”

“I find it best not to sugarcoat it, y’know.” He shrugs, “Think of this as a marriage, of sorts. I give you the power to smite thine enemies, live deliciously, blah blah blah, and then you meet me at the crossroads every full moon to be my whore and we fuck like bunnies all night. Simple as that.”

“That’s far from simple.”

“It doesn’t have to be monogamous, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he continues frankly, “except on the full moon. I won’t compromise about that– you’ll be all mine, and I’m all yours. No takesies backsies.”

“No– that’s not–” You exhale, holding your hands over your eyes. “I’m just… not promiscuous like that…”

“Sweetheart.” He waits until you’ve lowered your hands to look at him, and he hums, with a saccharine smile that reminds you of the power you’d felt sweep through the clearing when he arrived. “You won’t be the first good girl I’ve broken, and you won’t be the last. If you’re worried about promiscuity, well… I answered your petition. I know what goes on in that pretty head, and it barely scratches the surface of what I’ve seen and done.” 

The toe of his boot barely nudges the edge of your circle, and a spark crackles in the dark from the impact. The light dances in his eyes longer than it remains in the air, like they caught the spark and ignited. 

“Trust me,” he says, drawing you in with the low register of his voice. “I can give you more than power. I can give you protection. I can give you real happiness. Karma’s a fucking bitch, so I can be, too. This is just such a little thing in return. And who knows… you may even like it.”

You shiver at that, even though his presence feels hot, like his stream of lava is surrounding you, crowding you in, boiling you where you stand. He’s right– you absolutely might like it. 

Because there’s just something magnetic between you, isn’t there? You can sense it, more than any heat and any sort of primal fear you might have instinctively at his presence. There’s a certain pull you feel toward him, emanating even through the salt barrier on the ground. 

You want to wrap yourself in him. Boil you alive, burn you to a crisp, destroy you– you don’t care.

“Or… is it that you don’t like this body?” He wonders aloud, striding backward two steps. He turns, his hand lifting his seemingly ever-burning cigarette to his lips. “Figures– y’know, I can be anything you want me to be, babydoll.”

Confused, you watch as he transforms in front of you. In the length of two steps while he paces across the clearing, his face and body stretches and contorts, until you’re not staring at the same visage anymore. He stops, and he turns to you with his palms up, like he’s waiting for your approval. 

You’re looking at Tom fucking Cruise. 

“Oh, no, absolutely not,” you shake your head vehemently, scowling. You wave your hands demandingly, “Put it back. You were so hot before– please, please go back to the way you were.”

The demon grins and turns his head, throwing the cigarette away. His hair grows back to its previous length, his face morphing as if made of clay until you meet the same pretty smile you’ve come to enjoy looking at. 

He chuckles, grabbing a lock of his hair and drawing it across his lips. “You think I’m hot?”

“Of course,” you murmur, but you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he can hear it. His eyes are embers, blazing at you from beneath his bangs. “Is that what you normally look like? Is that your true form?”

He makes an iffy sound. “It’s what I looked like when I was human. My true form has more horns and unhinged jaws and claws and all that. You wouldn’t like it.”

“I thought you said you could read my mind. Do you know how much monster porn I’ve consumed? That’s hot as shit to me,” you argue, and he snaps his head towards you in surprise. You point at yourself. “Freak and misfit.”

He laughs, and it sounds like the roaring of an out of control fire, burning up everything in its path. He kicks his heel on the ground and steps up to your circle again. “I like you, baby. I really do. What do you say?”

“How do I know that I can trust you?” you ask, an annoying lump forming in your throat with the question. You’ve been burned before by people far less powerful than this demon, yet who still hold so much power over you. However much they have.

“You can’t,” he answers, more honestly than most would. He tilts his head with a crooked smile. “Not to get all preachy on you, but even if I wasn’t a demon… trust is built, not a given. ‘The devil you know,’ right? Better than the one that you don’t.”

“Yeah,” you agree, your voice coming out breathy and winded the longer you gaze up into his eyes.

“Trust me to be… intense, I guess,” he shrugs. “And probably impulsive. But I’ll always deliver on our deal. Be my witch, my wife, my whore– whatever you want to call it, but be mine. I think we’ll have so much fun together.”

“Yeah, I think– I think I will.” You’re nodding, and his smile grows with yours. “I want to.”

“Let me in, sweetheart.”

Your toe scuffs the boundary on the ground, breaking the circle. Immediately, your senses are assaulted by smoke, not just the tobacco he’s been smoking but the scent of a wildfire, of cities burned to ashes, of desolation and destruction and pyroclastic flow and roaring, exploding volcanoes. 

Your demon crosses the line you’d drawn on the ground with ease, producing the worn composition book in his hand again. The cover reads Hellfire Club in chicken scratch handwriting. 

“Are there others?” You ask, prompted by the word Club on the front as he flips open the book to a middle page. An agreement is already written out in red ink. “Do you have more than one, um…”

“Consort?” He whispers in your ear. Goosebumps rise on your skin, and your stomach flutters. “Not for a long time. I’m very picky about my partners. They have to be just as much of a freak as I am.”

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest, although the admission makes you feel… better, in a way. You squint in the dark, but with the exception of the candles around your circle, there’s nothing to allow you to properly read what’s written on the page. 

He sighs, shifting on his feet beside you. “Are you one of those people who’ll read the whole contract?”

“Absolutely I am,” you hum. The book feels heavier in your hands than it should. “Can you give me a light?”

“Jesus Christ.” He produces a flame from his forefinger just as you turn to give him a confused look. 

“Shouldn’t you, like… evaporate after saying that?”

In the yellow glow of the flame, he just blinks at you, looking amused. “Things aren’t as black and white as you think they are, believe me.”

You snatch his wrist and yank his arm closer to the page. His body collides with yours, and he grunts in your ear as he wraps his other arm around you, embracing you from behind. You’re engulfed in the scent of smoke and the heat of his flames, impossibly hot and comforting all the same. 

His hair brushes your shoulder as you read his contract. It’s just a few lines, but the weight they hold will seal your fate. 

The agreement made this night of the dark moon shall henceforth be enacted from the signing of this document, that hereby renders the human party’s soul bound to the infernal party. Witness that the first party must appear before the second party each full moon to lay in matrimonial fashion, and that in return the first party shall be protected and given the powers of the second from here until the human’s mortal passing. 

“Aww, that’s sweet,” you coo, tracing the red ink with your fingers. 

The demon over your shoulder rolls his eyes. “It’s a fucking pre-nup.”

“Doesn’t seem like a fair trade, though, does it?” You murmur. “I mean, I get the power to change my circumstances and you get– what– sex once a month?”

His hand tightens on your waist, and you pause. You turn your head to look at him, and his eyes flicker dangerously, so close to yours. They aren’t just glowing coals- this close, you can see the small details. You can see the swirling, the churning of lava within them.

“It’s not just sex, is it?”

“What do you think making a deal with a demon entails, sweetheart? Read the fine print.”

You look back at the page. There are no other words on it, save for the ones you’ve already read. “I don’t…?”

“It’s your soul, honey,” he mutters, pointing at the word. His mouth is muffled against your shoulder as he peers over it. “I won’t ask anything of you other than the sex, as long as you live. But right now, you’re offering up your soul. And once your life is up, you get to be just like me. Understand?”

“I… yeah. I understand.” You let go of his wrist, but pause over the pages of the book. “I don’t have anything to sign with.”

Wordlessly, the demon takes your hand. You let him caress your wrist, feeling your pulse with his thumb. Then, before you realize what’s happening, a sharp sting makes you yelp as he cuts your skin with his pointed thumbnail. 

He shushes you, letting the blood well up on your skin. “I did say you needed to sign with blood.”

Your voice shakes when you hold your dripping wrist over the page. “I thought you said you were joking.”

“Not about the book. Rules of the trade, I can’t change it.” Your blood splatters the notebook, dripping into the crease of the page. Once he’s satisfied, he lifts your wrist to his mouth and closes his lips around the small wound. It heals in a heartbeat. 

“Is that it, then?” You ask, mesmerized by the sight and feeling of his mouth on your skin. “Don’t you have to sign?”

Your demon kisses your wrist gently, his lips soft, inviting. “This is going to hurt,” he warns, and you nod. The heat of his breath makes your skin tingle, all your nerves on high alert. 

But then that tingling turns into a burn, that turns into a searing pain. You feel like your skin is on fire, an invisible hot brand held against your wrist. You cry out as he holds you close, letting you bury your face into his neck, holding you up as your knees threaten to buckle. 

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs to you as you whimper. He holds your arm as the pain fades into a throbbing ache, cradles your hand against his cheek as he coos into your hair. “You’re so strong. Not many people can handle my mark, you know. Fate works in funny ways.”

Your demon holds you until you can stand on your own, until your breathing evens out and you can compose yourself. He shushes you quietly, rocking you from side-to-side with a soothing hand stroking your head. Then he holds your face, and kisses your tear stained cheeks. The touch of his lips stokes at flames beneath your skin.

“I’ll look forward to our time together, little witch,” he whispers. And with a quick, chaste kiss to your lips, he disappears entirely. 

You stay in the circle for a while, clutching your throbbing wrist and crying frustrated tears. You wonder if you made the right decision, and yet, you don’t understand why you just want him to come back. You miss the comfort of his presence, even if you don’t know enough about him to justify it. All he did was hurt your arm and take your blood and kiss away your tears and make you a witch. 

It’s too late to go back on your decision now. There’s an all-encompassing fire you can feel burning in your veins, emitting from the pulsating wound on your wrist. His power. His fire. 

You pull your hand away from your wrist to finally inspect the mark that he branded you with, declaring you his in the same chicken scratch that had been on the cover of his book. It’s small enough that a well placed bracelet would cover it, but you don’t know that you’ll want to.

Eddie.

Your demon’s name is Eddie.

[st4rymoon]

♱ 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞 ♱

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟕: 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐲 | 18+ | 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Warnings: DARK CONTENT! This is your warning! 18+, Predator x prey, language, cursing, fearful situations, handcuffs, dubconish but it’s consensual?, rough sex!, mean Miguel, pet names, hair pulling, p in v, fingering, unprotected sex!, breeding kink, possessive miguel

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Miguel felt like an asshole but he couldn’t stop thinking about what he read in your journal. Both of you went on a fall vacation together deciding to take a break from the stress of running the spider society.

You’ve been dating for around a year now and yesterday he did something he thought he’d never do. While you were in the shower, your journal sat on the nightstand only inches away from him full your secrets.

He was fighting himself internally but the urges got the best of him. Scanning through the pages his eyes stopped at his name, he read the words written on the dainty pieces of paper.

He could feel his face heat up as he took in your deepest desires. His eyes widening at the words ‘I want to feel the adrenaline rushing through me as he stalks through the woods and finds me’ he couldn’t stop reading.

Once you were out of the shower your journal was back in its usual place. You walked out with a towel wrapped around your body, the fresh droplets of water dripping down your skin as you made your way to the bed and changed into your pjs.

Ever since then you could tell Miguel was in his head more that usual. He would watch you with far more precision, his eyes would lingering on your for seconds too long.

You were on the couch, watching some tv as you munched on some popcorn. Miguel said he’d be back in a few so you wasted no time to get comfortable. A few hours passed when you heard the door open.

You turned back with a smile as you faced Miguel, your faced dropped in amusement as he walked in with a full black outfit and a duffel bag in hand “did you rob a bank?” You joked as he walked up to you.

“Ha ha very funny” he hummed as he placed the bag next to you “go get changed into this, we’re going somewhere doll” Miguel hummed.

You smiled and picked up the bag, making your way to the bathroom. You placed the bag onto the counter and rummaged through it.

A set of black panties and a bra with a matching dress and some shoes. What in the hell was this man planning? Both of you robbing a bank?

You laughed to yourself as you changed into the things he gave you and fixing yourself up in the mirror. Once you were finished you walked into the living room, in front of you sat Miguel with his legs spread and hands between his legs as he leaned forward. His head tilted up as he saw you walk over to him.

“Where are we going this late at night? The bar?!” You jumped as you remembered the tasty drink you got a few days ago. Miguel shook his head as his hands trialed up the sides of your thighs.

“siéntate” he hummed, pulling you onto his lap and pinning you onto him. His face dropped into the crook of your neck, his tongue softly running up your neck and sucking softly. You let out a moan as his fingers made their way to the back of your dress and lifting the thin material up so he could play with your panties.

“Miguel” you whined as he moaned into you “I read that little journal of yours sweetheart, what did you mean about stalking you through the woods mhm?”

You tensed up in his lap “I- I- it wasn’t-“ you didn’t know what to say now caught red handed. You felt your body heat up in embarrassment “why are you reading through my journal in the first place?” You tried to change the finger pointing to him “don’t switch the conversation honey, you really want me to hunt you down in the woods? Catch you like a fox hunts a bunny?” He hummed.

You whined at his words, he was pushing you to talk and you couldn’t bare his teasing. You had a dirty secret you thought he’d never find out. You’ve always had an on going fantasy of playing cat and mouse games in the woods. Not with strangers but with someone you could really trust, someone you could live out your sick fantasies with.

It really didn’t help realizing a year into your relationship with Miguel that he drew you these fantasy’s even more. You fantasized about him hunting you like prey, his huge figure stalking the woods in mere silence with his spider man capability’s.

You’ve never thought about it with your ex’s, you felt like you always had the advantage being spider woman if you’d follow threw with it. But with you and Miguel having spider abilities and your own special talents, it seemed far thrilling.

You didn’t say a word as Miguel’s gaze burned through you “answer me” he sternly spoke. All you did was nod your head “words” he cooed, your checks being squished by his hands as he held you up to his face.

“Yes, I’m sorry you had to Read th-“ before you could apologize his lips crashed onto yours. You could feel him throbbing in his slacks as he softly bucked his hips onto you.

“Don’t apologize muñeca, don’t do that” he moaned, a string of saliva sticking to your lips as he pulled back softly “do you trust me?” He hummed.

“Of course I do Miguel. I trust you with everything I have in me” you whispered while trying to attach your lips onto his again. He let your lips connect but he still continued to speak “what if we played this little game of yours here? We’re in a cabin, woods all around us. But you’ll be safe love, I took care of everything already”

You kissed him rougher, Moaning into his mouth in agreement. “Yes” you nodded, Miguel smiled at the way your body warmed up in his hands. It didn’t help help that you were ovulating, he could smell your hormones radiating off you.

“Let’s go”

Miguel closed the door behind you and guiding you to the edge of the house “let me explain the rules” Miguel sighed. There was a new version of Miguel in front of you, he stood with his arms crossed with his eyes trained on you. It felt he was sizing you up while purposely trying to scare you.

“Firstly, the woods are safe, nothing inside that can hurt you or me. House is off limits no hiding inside. You don’t have to worry about getting lost I have that taken care of.” Miguel hummed. “Now for the important rules you’ll enjoy”

You squeezed your legs together as you stared up at him. Miguel chuckled as you did “ one, the most important rule if things get too much, use our safe word”

“Red, I know” you shrugged as you cut him off “good. If you manage to keep hidden from me, which I doubt, the game will end in 2 hours and you’ll know when they are up. You’ll win if the 2 hours go by. If I catch you and you get away, the game will continue on. If I catch you, I’ll get to do what I want with my prize”

You bit your lip, you didn’t fail to notice the bag he had wrapped around his back and you wondered what he had inside. Rope? Hand cuffs? A knife maybe? You didn’t care, you wanted all of it.

“If I win what will I get” you pout “what ever you want doll” Miguel winked. You nodded “lastly, no webs allowed until I catch your or you win. No swinging in trees but I’ll allow crawling. You listening? I know you love to break the rules but just know the game will end if you do” Miguel hissed while pointing a finger down at you.

“Yeah yeah” you rolled your eyes “when can we start?” You sigh. He hummed at your cockiness “you’ll get a 40 second start, once I say go you run” he nodded.

You repaid the nod and started into the eerie woods. You couldn’t wait for it to start, even though darkness swallowed everything around you; only allowing you to see the shadowed trees and rocks scattered along the tree line, you loved it.

“Ready sweetheart?” He hummed. “Yeah”

“1…2…3…” Miguel slowly counted, he paused for a few seconds making you look up at him. Before you could say anything he yelled go.

You looked into the woods and sprinted in, darting around and pushing past the trees as you looked around for a good hiding spot. You could hear Miguel counting in the distance, his voice fading away as you ran deeper into the woods.

You didn’t know how far you were in the woods but you knew you made some distance. You couldn’t see the light of the house, just pitched black with some highlights illuminated by your spider vision.

You sat with your arms wrapped around your knees as you sat behind a rock, making sure to quiet your breathing and listen to your surroundings. You perked up at the sound of foot steps. Your eyes darted around, nose smelling everything around you as your senses heightened.

No fucking way it was Miguel, it couldn’t end this fast.

Your heart was beating as you heard the crunching growing closer. You looked down at your feet, a few inches away you see a small shadow and hear a ribbit.

The crunching and flopping of a frog jumping around making you sigh as you noticed it stop near your feet. “Scared the shit out of me frog” you whispered.

Your moment was cut short as you heard whistling from behind “I can smell you love, you’re lucky it can’t lead me to you. You just fill all of my fucking senses” Miguel’s voice hums. Your legs squeezed together at the sound of his voice, the tone cold as the echos of his whistles ran through you.

You knew he was walking, the crunching and his voice sounding as if from the ground. You didn’t even think about him behind above you, even more of a precaution.

Not only did you have to watch out from down low but also from above. You could hear him getting closer, your heart heated in your chest as you looked around the ground for a rock.

You found a decent sized rock, peeking from above you and listened closely to the sound of his whistles before you picked a direction and threw the rock.

Miguel’s whistles stopped as the rock hit the ground, his footsteps running towards the rock in hopes of catching you.

You got up and ran, crawling onto a tree and hiding inside the leafs. “Aren’t you smart, trying to distract me? Thought you’d know better doll, now I know I’m close” he mocked.

You watched down below as you waited for him to appear. The heavy crunching of leafs letting you know he was on the ground.

A few seconds of silence was unsettling, no crunching, no whistles, just howls of owls and crickets filled your ears. He could be anywhere, for all you knew he could be behind you.

You heard a crack of a branch from behind you making you jump out of the tree. You heard Miguel’s dark chuckle from behind as he jumped onto the ground sprinting after you.

“This is just too easy” he cooed. You ran faster than you ever had, faster then you do when you run from enemies or anomaly’s. Miguel was surprised by your agility and speed but he wouldn’t give up.

Your heart was racing as you swerved through trees. You dumbly took a turn to slow, allowing Miguel to grab a fist full of your hair and yank you onto his chest. He hummed as you clawed at his chest, you had the fight in you, you didn’t want him to win this easily.

You twisted your leg behind his, dropping him onto the ground and loosening his grasp. He cursed as you ran even faster than before, a loud curse echoing behind you as he couldn’t catch up.

You were back on the ground, deciding that being in trees was a worse idea. You could feel the slick between your folds soaking your panties, your pussy was throbbing at the remembrance of how rough he was.

The way he yanked you onto him like you were nothing but a pillow was making you crazy. All you wanted to do was to move your panties to the side and rub your swollen little clit for some relief, but you knew better.

Minutes went by with nothing but the sounds of nature, your body relaxed as you finally got back to your normal breathing.

But as always, you could never get too comfortable.

You heard crunching yet again, this time you stood up quiet and walked behind a tree, hiding yourself behind the large bark.

You listened as the crunching stopped. You knew you really pissed Miguel off because he was so damn quiet now. Not a peep from him. No condescending words or teases.

You took a breath, eyes closed as you listened closer. “You look so damn pretty” you heard from besides you. Your eyes snapped open and looking to your left, there was Miguel leaning on the tree besides you.

“Shit” you cursed, running with force as you tried to get as far away from him. “Not again sweetheart” he hissed as he wrapped a hand around your mouth, pinning you onto his back and this time allowing himself to fall back onto a tree.

His other hand wrapped around your waist as he lowered the both of you onto the ground. You kicked at his legs as he whispered praises in your ear.

“Oh come on, give it up already I won” he hummed. You could feel how hard he was as he sat you up on his lap, his legs wrapping onto yours to cage you between him.

“You smell so fucking good honey, pussy is begging me to touch you” he moaned as his hand slipped into your panties.

You let out a moan as his calloused fingers ran through your folds, your slick coating his thick fingers as he groaned at the sound of how wet you are.

“Oh honey, listen to how wet you are. My poor little girl needs me huh?” He hummed into the crook of your neck. “F- fuck” you panted out, your nails dug into his arms as he rubbed on your swollen clit “I can feel you throbbing against my fingers doll, pussy is begging for me honey” he cooed.

You squirmed and whined as his hand wrapped around your throat; facing you up to him. The moonlight lit up his face as you stared up in awe at him. “Aww look at you, mi muñequita chula” Miguel was taking in the sight before him.

His beautiful girl spread wide between his thighs, eyes shimmering up at him. “Ple- mig” you cried “remember, I won so I’m in charge” he cooed.

Your body was shivering in need as he teasingly rubbed your clit. He pulled away as he turned you around to face him, he kept you pinned with one hand as he rummaged through his bag.

You pulled out some handcuffs from the bag, his hand kept you pinned on his chest as the other gripped your wrists and pinned them onto your back.

You moaned at the feeling of the cold metal tightening around your wrists. He was kind enough to not tighten them up too much to hurt but just enough to make it slightly uncomfortable to move.

Miguel was going crazy, your scent filled his senses, everything about you was driving him crazy. The way you looked so damn weak made him rock hard, he knew you couldn’t fight back with your hands cuffed, he knew you couldn’t protest.

“Need you” he huffed as he unbuckled his belt and kicked his boxers off. His cock flung out onto his stomach, pre cum spilling out of his angry tip as you whined in need.

You gasped as he ripped off your black lace panties and pulled your dress down, exposing your tits out for him. Miguel rubbed his tip between your folds, groaning at the feeling of your soaked pussy leaking all over him.

He aligned his tip into your oozing hole, pushing his hips into you as he stretched you out. A loud moan spilled out of you as he pistons his hips into you, his cock filling you to the brim as he holds your hips down onto his.

His eyes watched the way your plush tits bounced along with his hard slams. His head fell onto your tits, his mouth lapping and biting onto your skin as he fucked himself into you.

The way he held you felt so much different than he usually does in bed, it felt like he was ravaging his last meal. He fucked you on the damp soil, in the middle of the woods like he was giving into his deepest urges.

“Couldn’t believe you liked things like this doll, practically fucked myself into my hand thinking of something like this the first time we kissed. Imagined how you’d taste in this situation” he hissed.

You were bouncing along with his hard slams dumbly, your wrists slightly hurting from the restriction. His hand wrapped around you throat, pressing onto your throat as he lost himself in your pussy.

Your eyes were rolled back in your head and inaudible sentences spilled from you as the over whelming feeling of living out your deepest fantasy came true.

“You’ll never leave me, I’ll never let you go. You’re mine sweetheart, I’ll kill for you if I had too. Anything” Miguel muttered. You pussy clenched around him, his words making you moan as he picked up the pace. His pubic bone rubbed against your clit perfect, you fell onto his shoulders as you moved your hips onto his.

Your orgasm crashed upon you hard, your pussy throbbing and gushing around his fat cock. He continued his brutal pace, overstimulating you as his fingers played your with over worked clit.

“No no no” you cried as you shook onto his fingers “shhh” he hummed. He closed his eyes in ecstasy as he felt himself pulsing inside your walls, cock dripping pre cum into your cunt as he threatened to burst inside you.

“Fuck- fuck” Miguel hissed. A primal moan rumbled out of him as he spurted his seed inside you. He fucked his load into your tight cunt in hopes to make himself a daddy.

He envisioned you growing plump with his child as he rides out his high “a- ah ah fuck” he whined out. You could hear the wetness of each others cums as he overstimulated himself. He was shaking as your walls squeezed him perfectly.

You let out a tired moan as he finally slowed his pace and stilled inside you. Miguel unlocked your handcuffs weakly, allowing you to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

You sat there for a while, cock buried inside you as both of you took in the cold air. “I love you so much” Miguel whispered as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his hands moving down to your dress and lifting the fabric back up your chest.

“Lets get you back home”

[punkshort]

The Holiday in Vermont

Thank you anon for this prompt!

Pairing: Dave York x f!reader

Summary: A much needed escape after a brutal breakup to Woodstock, Vermont gives you much more than you ever bargained for when you meet Dave York.

Warnings: language, smut (18+ MDNI), oral f!receiving, unprotected piv sex, one little spank, mentions of infidelity, angst, food and alcohol consumption, heartbreak

WC: 8.1K

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

A/N: inspired by the movie The Holiday - if you're a fan you'll notice some very familiar lines ❤️

"Yes, okay? I slept with her."

The words still echoed loudly inside your head.

"She's in love with me, I'm sorry!"

You couldn't remember storming down the stairs and yelling in your ex-boyfriend's face in the middle of your driveway, but you did remember clocking him square across the jaw. Twice.

He tried to blame you, tried to blame your long working hours. But you refused to accept it. He was the one who encouraged his receptionist's flirty behavior. He was the one who took her to fancy hotels when you were working late. Not you. Him.

However, he had a point. You worked a lot. Probably too much, but you loved what you did. Was it so much to ask for a partner who supported and understood your dreams and goals?

Alright. Maybe you should have planned more date nights or something.

It didn't matter. Things were over. Finished. Kaput. But you couldn't stand the thought of being by yourself during Christmas in your cold, lonely penthouse apartment in Chicago. So with a quick, spur of the moment google search, you found yourself renting an Airbnb in the quaint little town of Woodstock, Vermont.

Known for its idyllic shops and gorgeous winter landscapes, you figured, why not? A week away from the chaos of your job and pain of a failed relationship. Your boss was stunned to hear you wanted to take a vacation, the first since you had started six years ago, but he was quick to approve your time off request knowing full well the company couldn't run without you.

Five days before Christmas, you sat in a sweet little cabin just a short walk from town. You were in the woods, just you and a stack of books you promised yourself to at least try to take a crack at, in front of a cozy fireplace. You must have dozed off because you jolted upright with your heart racing when you heard a key being worked rather roughly at the front door.

"Oh, shit. Oh, fuck," you whispered, tossing the fuzzy blanket off you and racing to the fireplace. With a poker in hand, you swiveled around right as the door swung open.

You heard a man's voice grumbling under his breath and your grip on the poker tightened. When he flicked the lights on, you gave him your best scowl and tried to look as fearsome as possible.

"I've already called the police, I suggest you be on your way," you lied.

But all he did was frown and close the door behind him, leaving the blustery, snowy weather outside where it belonged.

"Who are you?" he asked with a sharpness to his voice. You scoffed, offended.

"Me? I'm renting this place from the owner, Sandy. And who should I tell the cops broke in?"

The man smirked and shrugged off his coat, completely unphased by your weapon.

"I'm Dave. Sandy's brother."

You stumbled backwards as he hurried over to the fireplace to warm his hands. It was then you got a good look at him. Strong, cut jaw. Clean shaven. Dark brown hair with eyes to match, but there was a softness to them you couldn't deny. And when he leaned forward to throw another log onto the fire, you noticed the way his broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his sweater.

"And what are you doing here, 'Dave, Sandy's brother'?"

He chuckled and sat back on his heels to look up at you, the reflection from the fire making his dark eyes sparkle.

"Well, on the rare occasion I find myself having too much fun at the local bar, Sandy lets me spend the night here. My place is a good half hour away and she worries about me driving. You know how sisters are," he said with a small smile. The iciness to his voice was gone as he slowly searched your face. "Want to tell me your name now?"

You wanted to stay rigid but the way he looked at you caused you to fold. You told him your name and explained you were staying through Christmas to get away from... things.

He nodded and leaned back into the couch you had fallen asleep on just a few hours earlier, stretching his arms wide across the back and spreading his legs while gazing up at you.

"So no husband, then?"

You swallowed and kept your eyes locked on his face. Why was he asking?

"No. No husband. Be a little strange to be attached to someone and not be with them during Christmas, don't you think?" you asked with an arched brow.

Dave smirked and let his eyes drop to stare at the fire.

"Imagine so."

Silence stretched on for another minute and you lowered yourself onto the couch.

"So you can't drive?" you asked. Dave pushed air through his lips and shook his head.

"But I can call an uber or something. I didn't know she rented out the place."

You glanced around the small cabin, weighing your options. If he wanted to kill you, he would have already, right?

"Or you could stay," you offered. His eyes snapped up to yours in surprise. "I mean, if you wanted. Since you're already here and all."

"You sure?"

You nodded and pressed your lips together.

"Mhm," you hummed as you looked around. "There's probably a spare pillow somewhere."

Dave's lips curled into a slow smile as he watched you fumble around for a pillow.

"Mind if I ask why you're here spending Christmas alone?"

You froze, scanning your brain for a lie until you realized it didn't really matter if this man knew your story, you would never see him again, anyway.

"I, uh, broke up with someone," you said, finally finding a pillow and thick blanket in a cabinet behind the television. "I wanted to get away from the city to distract myself and... well, so far it's not really working," you admitted with a wry chuckle. You turned to hand him the bedding, fingers brushing against his and sending a shiver down your spine. Your eyes locked with Dave and you felt your heart flutter before you forced yourself to take a breath and snap out of it.

"Sorry to hear that," Dave said softly. Then the corner of his mouth twitched when he added, "Maybe I could help distract you?"

"Excuse me?" you snapped, crossing your arms. Dave set the bedding down next to him and waved his hands in surrender.

"Sorry. Not appropriate."

"No, it wasn't."

"Sorry," he said again. You swallowed tightly, anger and excitement battling it out inside you. Part of you wanted to kick him out in the snow and book the first flight out of there. But another much louder part of you wanted to consider his offer. What better way to move on from your ex than to hook up with an admittedly very attractive man who you would never see again?

It's not something you'd ever done before, but did that make it so wrong? Could you not just enjoy yourself for one night?

Dave had stood to spread out his blanket across the couch, ignoring your internal conflict behind him. Once he had everything set, he finally turned to look at you.

"Well... good night."

Your heart was already racing in your chest from your decision made seconds prior, but when he stepped forward to give you a peck on the cheek, an action no doubt fueled by the alcohol in his veins, your blood pumped even faster. At the last second, you turned your head and captured his lips with yours.

The kiss was a bit stiff. Both of you paused in surprise but lingered a few moments before he pulled away and looked down at you curiously.

"I thought-"

"I changed my mind," you said before grabbing his thick sweater in your fist and pulling him down for another kiss. That one was less than polite. His hands flew up to cup your face while his tongue pried open your mouth and licked past your teeth. You knew your bedroom was somewhere behind you, but Dave knew the layout of the cabin much better. He began to walk you backwards while your hands pawed desperately at his shoulders, and only once you both collapsed into bed did you even break away for air.

"I never do this," you panted while tearing off your shirt. Dave was working on his belt, ripping open the leather in a frenzy.

"That's okay," he responded while kicking off his pants.

"It's just - I caught my ex cheating on me with his receptionist," you continued, clothes falling off you one by one. "And the thought of hooking up with a guy I'll never see again is weirdly turning me on right now."

Dave laughed and tugged his sweater over his head, revealing his strong chest and thick arms.

"He sounds like an asshole."

"He is," you breathed right before Dave crawled on top of you for another deep kiss. You moaned into his mouth and wrapped your legs around his waist, jumping a little when you felt his already hard cock press between your bodies.

"Relax," he whispered, then gave you one more quick kiss before dragging his mouth down your throat. His hands greedily squeezed at your hips and his tongue darted out to lick and bite gently at your breasts as he continued his way down, not stopping until his shoulders were wedged between your thighs and his mouth was hovering over your glistening cunt.

Dave didn't waste any time teasing you. He buried his face between your legs, lapping up your seam a few times before prodding further. His tongue swirled at your entrance with a muffled groan while you squirmed and gasped in his hold. You tried to subconsciously inch away, body already too sensitive, but his arms pinned down each of your legs, holding you flat and open so he could eat at you freely.

Curses left your lips in soft whimpers as he pushed you higher and higher with his mouth. Your fingers grabbed weakly at his disheveled hair, drawing his eyes open. He was transfixed when he watched you, chest heaving and head twisting this way and that as you struggled to find your high.

Either he wasn't the kind of guy that liked to tease women or he was too eager to fuck you because his lips latched around your clit, sending your back arching off the mattress with a broken cry. With just a few flicks of his tongue, he sent you hurtling over the edge. Stars burst behind your eyelids as your orgasm rolled through you, hips rocking up to meet his mouth until your legs grew shaky and your heart felt like it might beat right out of your chest.

"Oh, fuck - oh, my god," you gasped, dragging in huge gulps of air while Dave peppered kisses over your hips and up your stomach until he was pressing his body against yours.

"Need a minute?" he asked with a cocky lilt to his voice. His lips tugged into a smile against your throat and you had a feeling he noticed the tremor in your hands as they raked through his hair.

"No, I'm fine," you replied defiantly. Dave propped himself up on his forearms, smirking down at you with his lips still wet from your climax.

"Yeah? You think you're ready to take me, baby?"

His knee nudged yours aside, opening your legs even wider so he could reach down and fist his cock. You nodded but he caught the way your breath hitched when he dragged just the tip through your folds.

"Shit," you whispered, eyes already fluttered closed.

"Hey," he said with a sharp little bite to your chin. Your eyelids popped open, slightly annoyed. "Keep 'em open. Eyes on me."

"You're bossy in bed," you told him. He just chuckled and lined himself up.

"I just know what I like."

You were about to say something back, probably something snippy to try and knock his arrogance down a peg, but at that very same moment he pushed himself inside you, every thick, hard inch in one go, and whatever words you had queued up died in your throat.

Now you understood why he wanted you to look at him. He wanted to see the way your eyes changed when he entered you. He wanted to see that initial shock followed by that rush of pleasure. He wanted to see your eyes soften when you grew used to his girth and fill with need when he took too long to move. You knew all of this because it was exactly what you saw reflected in his own eyes as he stared down at you.

"Dave," you whispered with your eyebrows still pinched together. He was so fucking thick that the stretch stung a little, but in the best way possible. "Dave... fuck me. Please fu-"

You gasped and threw your head back into your pillow when he dragged himself out a few inches just so he could slam back into you.

"Oh, god, yes!" you cried out, his hips snapping against you faster. He kept one hand tangled in your hair and the other firmly planted on your hip. Each time he pounded into you, he yanked your hips upwards, driving himself as deep as possible while you fought for breath because every devastating stroke punched the air straight from your lungs.

You had never been with a man like Dave before. He had swagger but he had the goods to back it up. He was rough with the way he fucked you, but so soft when his mouth connected with yours, muffling your cries and his grunts.

His hips suddenly slowed and your eyes popped open in surprise. Your lips were still locked with his but he was fucking you slower now and then you realized he was matching pace with the way he was kissing you. Soft and deep and with purpose. You closed your eyes and felt a sigh shake loose in your chest, then your arms wrapped around his neck and you melted into his embrace. You weren't sure what caused the sudden change but it felt good. It was sweet and intimate and lo-

No. No, this was not why you came all the way to Vermont. You refused to fall for another man who would end up breaking your heart. You told Dave you just wanted a one-night stand, but the way he was pressing his body against yours and the way his tongue was mapping your mouth like he was trying to commit you to memory had you pulling away. You gave his chest a hard shove and his eyes fluttered open in confusion.

"What are you-"

"Move," you said, pushing him once again. He frowned but did as you asked, leaning back to give you space so you could pull yourself up onto your elbows. When you squirmed away, his cock slipped out of you and you swore you heard him whimper, but you pushed it from your mind.

"Did I do something?" he asked, but then you flipped onto your hands and knees and looked at him over your shoulder with a smirk.

"Want you to fuck me like this," you said, wiggling your ass in the air. His eyes darkened and his hands greedily found your waist, and all traces of that softness he had just shown you vanished. You sighed and rested the side of your head on the bed with your arms stretched out above you while you waited.

"Such a pretty sight, baby," he murmured before cracking the palm of his hand across one cheek. You gasped and jumped forward but he quickly dragged you back, impaling you on his cock once again.

Just as you had hoped, Dave began to fuck you harder. His fingers dug into your hips, pushing and pulling you in rhythm with his thrusts. Every stroke was so deep and powerful that it had tears burning the backs of your eyes. It was absolutely perfect. Your mind was blissfully blank. Every thought and memory and worry from the past week flew out of your brain while Dave fucked you like it was his last day on earth.

As if he could read your mind, he said, "This what you needed, isn't it? Needed someone to fuck you properly for once?"

Tears leaked out of your eyes and soaked into the bedding.

"Yes," you gasped. "So good - you feel so fucking good -"

"Did he used to fuck you like this?"

For the life of you, you couldn't figure out what he was talking about. Not when his cock kept splitting you open like it was. Your legs were getting shaky and you felt that crest beginning to rapidly rise with every harsh thrust of his hips against your ass.

"W-who?"

Dave chuckled and fell forward. His palms were pressed flat on either side of your head and you wailed when somehow the shift had forced his cock even deeper inside you.

"Your ex, baby. What was his name?"

You sobbed and shook your head, hands grabbing to push against the headboard he was quickly fucking you into.

"Don't remember his name?" Dave panted in your ear. "Ouch. Poor bastard. Bet you know my name, though, don't you?"

"Yes!" you screamed out when two of his fingers reached underneath and began to press fast circles against your clit. "Dave! Dave! D - ah, fuck! - I -"

It hit you all at once. Tears streamed down your face when you came, gushing all around his cock as he continued to pummel into you. He was saying something, you were sure of it, but you couldn't hear a word. The ringing in your ears was too loud. Your muscles were jumping and spasming with every wave of your orgasm, pussy squeezing and fluttering around his shaft and pulling his own release to the surface with you.

Right when you were beginning to regain your senses, you heard him groan your name repeatedly. He grabbed at your hip again, abandoning your clit when he sensed it was too much, and yanked you back so your ass was flush against him as he spilled his seed inside of you. Every burst had him softly groaning and pulling until he exhaled shakily and collapsed, slipping out of you and knocking you off your knees to lay flat on the bed with him.

"How's that for a distraction?" he murmured. You grinned and pushed the hair away from your face.

"Not bad."

Dave huffed and rolled onto his side, facing you.

"You couldn't remember your ex's damn name. I think it was a little better than that." He reached out to gently caress your cheek and you felt that softness creeping back up again, but that time you couldn't fight it. You were too exhausted, so you closed your eyes and gave in.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow you would remind him it was a one time thing and that you were not interested in anything else. But for that one night, you let him pull you close with his bare chest pressed against your back and soundly fell asleep wrapped in his strong arms.

The next morning you had dragged yourself out of bed, fighting against every cell in your body that begged you to remain warm and cozy under the covers next to Dave. As tempting as it was to examine him while he slept so peacefully, you knew yourself. If you weren't careful, you would end up developing feelings for him and you certainly couldn't afford to be put in a position where you would be disappointed by yet another man.

That was why you found yourself an hour later fiddling with the coffee maker and cursing under your breath when the damn thing wouldn't turn on.

"Morning," his deep voice rumbled from the doorway. You whipped around and gave him a polite smile. He was wearing the same clothes as the night before but his hair was still a little unkept and his gaze was drifting appreciatively over your frame, making your smile widen against your will.

"Morning. I was trying to make you some coffee but this stupid thing-"

"-needs to be plugged in," he finished for you with a smirk. You furrowed your brow and twisted back around to examine the machine when suddenly he had sidled up behind you. "Not much of a coffee drinker, I take it?" he asked, stretching an arm around you to plug in the machine and flip the switch. You could feel his exhale on the back of your neck as memories from the night before flooded your mind.

"Uh, no, not really," you admitted while stepping to the side to create a little more distance. You picked up a glass filled with a store bought smoothie, forgoing the freshly made smoothies you were used to buying every morning back in Chicago since the small town of Woodstock didn't afford many options. Dave's face twisted into a look of disgust when he saw you take a sip.

"That looks like lawn clippings in a glass."

"It's not that bad - want to try a little?"

He shook his head and turned to open a cabinet. "I'll wait for the good stuff, but thanks," he said after placing a coffee mug on the counter.

You sat at the small kitchen table, tugging your oversized sweatshirt tighter around your neck as you sipped your smoothie and watched Dave maneuver around the room, completely comfortable and in his element while he dug around for something to eat and fixed his coffee to his liking.

It felt very domestic. Too domestic. So you cleared your throat, deciding you needed to clarify your intentions before you were pulled even further under his spell, but Dave spoke first.

"Are you busy today? I had some errands to run in town. Thought you might wanna tag along. I could show you around, maybe get some lunch-"

He had turned around with his mug clutched in his hands when you cut him off.

"Uh, I don't think that's such a good idea," you said. "I'm not really looking for anything more than, you know... what we did-"

"Just using me for a quick fuck?" he asked, but when your eyes snapped up to his in surprise, you could tell he was teasing you.

"Well..."

Dave chuckled and sat down across from you.

"Don't worry, I'm not looking for anything serious, either," he assured you. You watched his tongue dart out to lick his lip, catching a drop of coffee that hung there, and your thighs squeezed together.

"Okay, good. Glad we got that out of the way."

"So, you wanna come to town with me or what? I gotta pick up my car, I can drop you off after."

You blinked and shifted in your chair. Dave watched your gaze flicker uncomfortably out the window and he rolled his eyes.

"I'm not going to fall in love with you over a few errands," he said, tone flat. "Just thought you'd want to check out the town."

"Yeah, okay, you're right," you relented. There was no harm in killing a little time with him, right? You both were on the same page and you didn't even have a chance to explore the town yet on your own.

"Great," he said with a grin, then tipped his head back and downed the rest of his coffee. Your eyes locked onto his throat and immediately noticed the marks you had left the night before. You stood quickly and told him you were going to get ready, telling yourself the same thing over and over.

He's just a rebound, it doesn't mean anything.

Woodstock, Vermont was absolutely adorable. You could see why so many people flocked there during the holidays. Everywhere you looked you saw something straight out of a Nancy Meyers movie. Wreathes, trees, twinkle lights, and garlands covered every single house and shop along the Main Street of town. There was a dusting of snow that lingered from the night before, adding to the beauty around you. There were even covered bridges draped in garland and lights. Had you ever even seen a covered bridge in real life before? Probably not.

The further you walked into town, the more you became convinced it was a literal Christmas wonderland.

"Is this place serious? A horse drawn carriage?" you exclaimed when a wagon pulled by a massive brown and white horse with blinders on trotted on by, kicking up snow with it's hooves.

"Yeah, they do Christmas big around here," Dave chuckled.

You readjusted your scarf and wrapped your arms around yourself as you continued to walk with Dave up the sidewalk. Everyone you passed was friendly, giving you both warm smiles and murmurs of good morning. You were beginning to understand why people preferred to live in small towns. Everything moved slower and afforded you the chance to simply take a breath and enjoy the little things.

"My car's just up the street. The bar is right on the corner," Dave pointed with a gloved hand. "But you mind if we stop a couple places first? I have a Christmas present I need to pick up."

"Yeah, sure," you shrugged as you followed him into the first shop. A little bell rang above your heads when you stepped inside. As you were tapping the excess snow off your boots, you breathed in deep the scent of cinnamon and looked around. It was a boutique of some kind and looked like it was marketed primarily for women. Blouses, scarves, gloves, hair accessories, purses and makeup adorned each rack and shelf.

"I placed an order last week, just gotta pick it up at the counter," he explained, taking off his gloves and instinctually grabbing for your hand. It took you by surprise and he must have sensed it because a moment later he let your hand drop and cleared his throat.

You shook it off and shoved your hand in your coat pocket, slowly trailing after him. You lingered at a display of sunglasses and hummed softly to the Christmas carols that were playing quietly through the overhead speakers.

Dave greeted the cashier and gave his name for the order, only half listening to him as you tried on different sunglasses a few feet away.

"You got the last one, you have good taste," the older lady behind the counter told him happily as she handed over a pre-wrapped gift. "It looks like-" she glanced at the tag and smiled, "Alice will have a very lovely Christmas."

Alice? You had just assumed Dave was picking up something for Sandy. He wouldn't be taking you around town to shop for another woman, would he?

When he turned around with the bag, you noticed he avoided your eye and you couldn't help but wonder if it was out of shame.

Whatever. You both said you weren't interested in anything serious. But was that because he was already in a serious relationship? The thought hadn't occurred to you until that moment and it left you feeling unsettled.

"You ready?" he asked. You set your sunglasses down and nodded, immediately picking up on the tension radiating from him after the cashier mentioned another woman's name. And even though you were dying from curiosity, you let it go because it didn't matter. He was a rebound.

After walking another block and waiting for Dave after he popped into the post office for a quick moment, you stopped in front of a quaint looking bookshop.

"Do you mind?" you asked, pointing towards the door. Dave looked up and shrugged before stepping forward and holding open the door for you.

The smell of paper, ink, and leather hit you all at once, making you sigh and smile wide.

"Now this is what I'm talking about," you said excitedly over your shoulder. Dave grinned at the way you moved from genre to genre, picking up a book here or there and turning it over in your hands before deciding whether or not to tuck it under your arm to purchase.

"Big reader?" he asked as he watched you flip through the pages of a historical romance.

"Yeah, but I hardly have the time," you confessed. "I have a huge stack back at the cabin but I think I'm an addict, I just can't stop myself from buying more whenever I see a bookshop."

"Addict, huh? Guess there's worse things to be addicted to," he said, setting down his bag so he could look through a book of his own. He read a few paragraphs and snorted as if he wasn't impressed, but out of the corner of your eye you noticed him get drawn in and continued to read the page.

"You like that one?"

His eyes flicked up to you and he straightened his spine.

"Nah. Just caught my attention for a second..."

His eyes dropped back down to the page and you giggled, tilting the cover up so you could see the title.

"I have this book. Back at the cabin. You can have it," you told him before putting your own book back and moving on down the aisle.

"I can't take your book," he protested behind you.

"I already read it, it's fine. Besides, I like to do it. Read a book and hand it off to someone else. Books are meant to be read and enjoyed, not stared at on a shelf for all of eternity," you told him as you made your way to the counter.

"Well, at least let me buy you lunch then," he said as you cashed out three new books. You swiped your card and arched an eyebrow.

"Are you trying to take me on a date?"

"No, never," Dave replied immediately with fake disgust. You laughed and took your receipt from the cashier, offering your thanks before turning and heading back out into the cold.

"Alright, fine. Where should we have our non-date?"

Dave pointed across the street with a grin.

"How about the bar? Pick up my car right after. Two birds, one stone."

"Ah, yes. No further thought required and hyper-focused on efficiency. Exactly what every woman loves to hear from a man," you joked.

Dave laughed and threw his arm around your shoulder before leading you in the direction of the bar.

"You said this isn't a date, baby."

"And yet you just called me baby."

He laughed again and shook his head but offered no further explanation.

The inside of the, presumably, only bar in town was exactly what you would expect. Dark, the scent of stale beer, various sporting events playing on the televisions scattered above the bar itself. But just like the rest of the town, the owners still jazzed the place up with a Christmas tree in the window, garland strung along the shelves of liquor, and the bartenders all wore Santa hats.

There weren't many people when you walked in, but there were a few men bellied up to the bar with beers watching a football game, along with one or two tables dining off to the side.

"Hey, Dave. Back so soon?" a male bartender asked, then did a double take when he saw you. "Oh, you got a date."

"It isn't a date," Dave said. You immediately heard his voice change. It sounded more high pitched. Like he was nervous or jumpy. You looked at him quizzically, as did the other patrons at the bar. An older man with a long beard whistled low and the other two swiveled in their seats to give you both a once over.

"Holy shit, Dave's got a date."

"It's not-"

"Hey, Sammy! Come check this out! Dave brought a girl!" another one called out into the depths of the bar. Dave's face began to turn pink and his hand fell from your shoulders.

"Vinny, cut it out."

"She's pretty, too!" the third man yelled after Vinny.

"Oh, thank you," you said shyly.

"Jesus Christ," Dave muttered beside you before ushering you over to an empty table. But given the layout of the place, you were still only seated a short distance away from the bar itself.

"Tell us, honey. What's a nice girl like you doing with a schlub like him?" the first man with the beard asked with a lopsided grin.

"Shut up, Dick," Dave snapped over his shoulder, the embarrassment making his shoulders slump forward as if he were trying to disappear into the floor.

"Don't call him a dick," you scolded.

"I'm not. That's his name."

"Oh."

"Holy shit! Thought you were yankin' my chain!" a shorter middle aged man exclaimed when he appeared around the corner. He wiped his hands on his apron and approached your table with a shit eating grin. "Hiya, name's Sammy," he said, offering you his hand. You shook it and told him your name. One of his teeth was capped with gold and the twinkle from the Christmas lights made it sparkle.

"Where you been hidin' this one?" Sammy asked Dave. You grinned and crossed your arms on the table to lean forward, reveling in his discomfort.

"She's just staying at Sandy's cabin through Christmas. Thought I would be neighborly and show her around," Dave grumbled while scanning the menu.

"Neighborly? Ain't your place like, half an hour out?"

"Yeah, that's what he said yesterday," you told Sammy with a nod. "We met last night when he made the mistake of breaking into said cabin after having too much fun with you boys."

"I didn't break in, I have a key."

"You spent the night together, huh?" the unnamed man teased from the bar. Dave squeezed his eyes shut.

"Sounds like it, Hank," Sammy called over.

"But it ain't a date," Vinny said, poorly imitating Dave.

"You think we can eat in peace or should I take her to Cheryl's deli?" Dave snapped. The three men at the bar chuckled and finally turned around to give you some privacy.

"Sorry, honey. Just gotta razz the big guy," Sammy told you with a wink.

"Oh, by all means, I'm enjoying myself immensely," you replied, waggling your eyebrows at Dave when his eyes dragged up from the table. He sighed but you caught the smirk he was trying to hide behind his menu.

You each ordered a burger and mercifully, after Sammy dropped off your drinks, you were left with some peace and quiet.

"Come here a lot, then?" you teased over your soda.

"When I'm in town."

"Ah. Does your job require a lot of travel?" It was then you realized you hadn't ever asked him anything about his job. He seemed like a business man with his clean shaven face. Maybe a banker. But what he said next shocked you.

"Yes. I work for the C.I.A."

"What?" you exclaimed quietly. He nodded, unphased. "What do you do?"

"I'm a field agent. I go where the bad guys are. Report back in to D.C. couple times a month. Even make my way to Chicago pretty often, if you believe it. Got a field office there," he told you, leaning back in his chair.

"Oh... wow," you breathed, your mind racing a mile a minute. "But you're from here?"

"I am," he replied. He was watching you carefully now, his eyes dancing with mischief as you struggled to absorb this new information. You had a million questions and had no idea where to even start, but it didn't matter because his phone ringing on the table cut you off.

Without thinking, your eyes locked onto the screen. Molly.

"Shit," he murmured, standing and picking up his phone. "I gotta take this. Do you mind?"

"No, go right ahead," you said airily, then watched him throw his jacket over his arm and head outside. Your mouth twisted around nervously as you watched him pace back and forth through the window, smiling and laughing while he talked on the phone.

Didn't seem like a work call. So who the hell was Molly?

"Molly... Alice... popular guy," you muttered under your breath.

Didn't matter. It wasn't a date and you were not interested in seeing Dave after the day was over.

Really. You weren't.

"Sorry," he said once he breezed back inside at the exact same time your food arrived.

"Work?" you couldn't help but ask. You kept your eyes on your plate so he wouldn't see your jealousy flaring up unwillingly.

"Uh... no," he said, then quickly changed the subject. "You never told me what you do for work?"

It was a sufficient enough distraction. While you ate, you explained your job in advertising. How the long hours, endless meetings, and greasy takeout were all worth it when you pitched a perfect idea to a client and you saw that look on their face. The one where they were thrilled with your work that would then have them eagerly signing a contract. Every single one pushed you higher and higher up the corporate ladder. You already had a corner office and a penthouse downtown, but you were always looking for the next big sale. You explained to Dave that the money and promotions didn't mean much anymore. It was the thrill and the payoff that made it so rewarding.

"Uh, sorry," you cringed, "I didn't realize I had been talking for so long." Your plates were empty and Dave had been leaning forward with his hand curled in his drink, hanging on your every word.

"Don't be sorry. Sounds like you really love your job."

"I do, but I never get any time for a life," you admitted sadly. You stared down at your glass, swirling the straw around the mostly melted ice. "This was my first vacation in six years."

Dave's eyes widened in shock. "Six years? And you chose to come... here?"

"What? It's cute here!" you protested with a laugh. "I wanted the full Christmas experience."

He huffed and shook his head. "Well, you came to the right place, I guess. There's a parade tomorrow afternoon with Santa and real reindeer-"

He stopped himself short and cleared his throat awkwardly before continuing. "I mean, if you wanted to go. Everyone in town kind of goes."

"Are you asking me out on another non-date?" you teased with a grin, but Dave pressed his lips together and swallowed tightly.

"Uh, no. I can't - I - I'm busy."

"But you just said everyone in town goes," you replied, smile slipping from your face.

He sighed and bit the inside of his cheek.

"This is awkward," he began, and a heavy feeling suddenly filled your chest. "I'm going to the parade but... I'm going with someone else."

"Oh," you said softly. He's a rebound, doesn't mean anything. "That's ... fine."

It wasn't fine. It hurt, and you were doing your best to hide it.

"Listen-"

"Why don't we just get going?" you asked with a tight smile. Dave's eyes softened as he scanned your face, desperately trying to come up with the right thing to say. "Seriously, it's fine. We talked about this, remember?" you laughed, then stood up to tug your coat back on. Slowly, Dave rose from his chair to copy you.

The walk back to his car was tense. You had no idea what to say. It shouldn't matter, you made your wishes very clear, yet despite yourself, it still really fucking mattered. And in the short ride back to the cabin, you broke.

"Are you married? Tell me fast," you said completely out of the blue. His mouth fell open in shock but he kept his eyes on the road.

"No. No, I'm not married."

"Girlfriend, then? Or, girlfriends?"

"What?" he hissed, then you tossed your hands up in the air in defeat.

"Alice... Molly... how many are there?" you snapped, voice rising the angrier you got.

Dave took a deep breath and gripped the wheel tightly.

"Alice and Molly are my... daughters," he finally said, voice a little strained. You completely forgot how to breathe. You sat in a stunned silence as he drove the rest of the way down the street and pulled into the driveway of the cabin, and only once he threw the car in park did he look at you.

"Daughters?" you repeated. He nodded.

"They're ten and twelve."

"O-oh, my god," you whispered. "I'm sorry, Jesus Christ why wouldn't you tell me?"

Dave shrugged and looked through the windshield at the empty cabin. When it became apparent he wasn't going to answer, you continued.

"I told you about my ex and about my life - Dave, why wouldn't you just tell me you're divorced? I wouldn't have cared."

"I don't bring women home to them," he said suddenly. You clamped your mouth shut, falling silent and giving him a chance to speak. "And I'm not divorced. I'm... widowed," he added, choking on the last word. His gaze fell down to stare at his lap. "I just try to protect them, you know? I try to keep my private life separate unless I know it's real 'cause they've already been through too much, I can't put them through losing someone else."

He had a point. And you had repeatedly dropped hints throughout the day that you were not interested in anything further with him and nothing you did that afternoon was to be considered a date.

So why was your throat so tight and why did your heart ache so badly in your chest?

Two days passed. Forty-eight hours where you spent pacing around your rented out cabin, trying to distract yourself with books while wrestling with your feelings over Dave.

It was impossible to ignore. You liked him. You couldn't stop thinking about him; the way he held your hand, the private little smiles he reserved just for you, the way he held you close the night you spent together... your thoughts were utterly and completely absorbed with Dave. And you had a feeling he liked you, too. Why else would he have wanted to spend the day with you? You had already fucked. Most men would have hightailed it out of there at first light. And to take you to the bar where he knew his drinking buddies would see you? That must have meant something.

You almost went to the parade just to possibly catch a glimpse of him but you backed out at the last second. Dave said he didn't want to introduce his girls to any women in his life to protect them, and you had to respect that. The last thing you knew you should do was surprise him with his family at the parade. No, that certainly wouldn't have gone over well at all.

Now, it was Christmas Eve. You didn't even have his number to text him Merry Christmas. So, after too many hours overanalyzing every little thing, you came up with a plan: you would go to the bar with the book you had promised him under the guise of wanting to get it to him before you left for Chicago.

As far as plans went, it was a pretty good one. It was feasible and a realistic excuse. But wouldn't he be spending Christmas Eve with his daughters? You shook the thought from your head. You didn't even know where he lived. Short of contacting Sandy and asking, this was your only plan. It had to work. It had to.

After spending over an hour getting ready and trying to quiet your nerves, you slipped on your leather jacket and adjusted your scarf in the mirror to make it look just right. You sighed and snatched the book from the couch, marching to the front door while murmuring under your breath over and over, I can do this.

But when you swung open the door to reveal Dave standing on the other side with his fist poised to knock, all your confidence flew straight out the window.

"Oh," you breathed. He dropped his hand to the side and gave you a small smile.

"Hey."

"Hi," you whispered, still stricken with disbelief that he was standing before you out of nowhere. Then you blinked rapidly a few times and stepped back. "Want to come in?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind," he said, slipping off his shoes and coat before his gaze slid down your frame, noticing your outerwear. "You're heading out, I'm sorry. This won't take long."

"No, actually, I'm-"

What? What were you supposed to say? You were very clearly about to walk out the door. You chewed your bottom lip nervously as you shrugged off your scarf and jacket, then rolled your eyes to yourself. Fuck it.

"I was going to try to find you, actually," you blurted out. Dave's eyes shot up to meet yours from his place next to the fire.

"You were?"

You nodded and took a few steps closer. When you remembered you were still holding the book, you held it out for him.

"I promised you this," you said softly. He glanced down at the book and gingerly took it from you. "I was going to see if you were at the bar but then I thought you might be with your girls tonight."

"They're with their grandparents," Dave murmured. He placed the book down gently and looked up at you once again.

"Oh. Right."

A long silence stretched between you, each waiting for the other to speak with only the sound of a crackling fire to fill the air.

You caved first.

"Why did you come here, Dave?"

He exhaled slowly and his shoulders sagged, looking like he had just been through battle.

"I came here because-"

He stopped and took a deep breath. Propping his hands on his hips, he let out a dry laugh and shook his head, like he couldn't believe what he was about to say.

"I know you were very clear about what you wanted," he began. The smile slowly melted as his nerves took over. "And I was, too. But - goddamnit."

He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger while you shifted anxiously from foot to foot, hoping and praying he was trying to say what you wanted him to say.

"But you want something more?" you offered timidly. His hand dropped to his side and he nodded sheepishly.

"I can't get you out of my head," he confessed with a pained expression. Your pulse spiked and your fingers fidgeted at your sides. You wanted to run into his arms but you also desperately wanted to hear what he had to say.

"I can't stop thinking about you. I know it's crazy, believe me," Dave scoffed. "And I know you just got out of a relationship. I sure as hell know I have my own baggage. But - I don't know. Is this stupid?"

He looked so adorable, all distraught and standing there in front of your fire wearing dark jeans and an ugly blue sweatshirt with a massive snowflake on it. A smile tugged at your lips.

"Nice sweater."

He blinked and looked down.

"Alice got it for me for Christmas last year."

"Hm. Well, maybe next time I can take her shopping. We've got some nicer stores in Chicago. Find something a little more suited to you," you said playfully. His eyes lit up as he slowly connected the dots. "That is, if you're willing to visit with them sometime," you added quickly.

"Yeah," he breathed, then chuckled before he closed the distance and pulled you in for a deep kiss. You smiled against his lips, feeling elated and confused and still not entirely sure if you were dreaming or not.

"How will this work?" you gasped when he finally pulled away for air. Dave kept his hands firmly planted where they were; cupping your face while gazing down at you in wonder.

"I'm in Chicago a lot," he reminded you before peppering your face with kisses. You giggled and wrapped your arms tighter around his middle. "Maybe you can come here sometimes. It'll work. We'll figure it out."

You wiggled out of his grasp and took his hand. Teeth sinking into your lower lip, you began to slowly walk backwards towards your bedroom, pulling him along with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"What are you doing for New Year's?" you asked.

Dave smirked as his free hand found your waist. He slid his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, brushing over the soft skin of your hip when he said, "I have the girls for New Year's."

You tugged him into the bedroom, both of you laughing softly at your enthusiasm. And right before his lips found yours again, you whispered, "Sounds perfect."

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[erenjaegerwifee]

Make You Mine 

Paring: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: MDNI 18+, kissing, suggestive themes, fluff

Word Count: 3.3K

Disclaimer: All my characters are aged-up! If that makes you uncomfortable feel free to scroll and do not interact with my page or any of my posts!

Index: karyu - teacher, hupx - miss, rutxe - please, kelku - house/home

Today is your first day, you are kind one nervous even though you’re teaching 7-year-olds. Kids can be mean sometimes but that’s not your problem. You have wanted this job since you were a little kid in the class, you always thought about how nice it was growing up and being able to teach children things you got to learn yourself, it felt like you were really helping the clan. You're taking over for the teacher then taught you, her name is O’laya, or as you used to call her miss O’laya.  

You get up bright and early eating a heavy breakfast you now sort of regretted and made sure your brother was ready for the day. The clan is very big so you are not the only teacher in the clan naturally the kids are split up into different classes. You were lucky to get a young one. You thank Eywa for her mercy. You dress yourself in your leaf top and loincloth that stops by your caves, you decided you might be running around and there was no need to slip someone a peak of your undergarments so you had longer loincloths made just for this job.  

You took a deep breath walking out of your kelku and to the class area to meet O’laya. “Miss O’laya, how are you this morning?” You greet her with a sweet smile. “Ah my dear, I am well, ready for today? I’m going to introduce you and take my leave.” You nodded and walked behind her into the class.  

“Good morning children. Now I’ve already told your parents and you all that you’ll be getting a new teacher. So, I’d like to all to meet Hupx Y/n! She will be your teacher from now on!” Everyone greeted you with sweet smiles and O’laya took her leave.  

“Good morning kids! I’m super excited to be your teacher why don’t we go around the class and get to know each other?” Your smile and sit on top of your desk listening to the children introduce themselves with names and ages along with things they like. They were every entertaining to listen to. Some were shy but some were upbeat and loud one of them being none other than your clan’s olo’eyktan’s youngest, Tuktiery, or as she requested people call her Tuk. When it was her turn, she stood so excitedly sitting directly in front of your desk in the class and said, “Hi new miss! My name is Tuktiery Sully very similar to my mama’s name but not that same! You can call me Tuk, everyone does! But anyways, I’m 7 years old and I’m new in this class to just like you! I like ikrans I can’t wait to get my own one day like my mama!” 

“Well, that is wonderful Tuk! I’m sure one day you will have a beautiful Ikran.” You smile and she sat down and continued the lesson. After a long day of fun activities, it was time for the kids to go home. You were cleaning up the classroom while parents came one by one to collect their little ones.

There were only about three kids left when you heard a knock on the wood by the entrance flap and two parents walked in. They were Tuk’s parents, Jake and Neytiri Sully. You brought your hands up to your forehead to make the respectful gesture and they returned it smiling at you. “Ah, you must be Tuk’s new teacher I am her mother, it is very nice to meet you.” she was so beautiful, “This is my husband, Jake” she gestured her hands to her husband that now hold their youngest. 

“The pleasure is mine; I look forward to getting to know you and your family.” you smile back at her. It was customary for the teachers to get to know the parents of their classes, it allowed for much smoother sailing when it comes to their education, everyone was involved in teaching the children. “We do as well, how about you sit with us at communal dinner tonight” Jake spoke up. 

You must admit you were a bit stunned; you weren’t expecting such an invitation. “Communal dinner with the Olo’eyktan’s family wow, I am extremely flattered, but I wouldn’t want to intrude on your family time” you smile at them shyly, they thought you were very cute, you might fit in quite well with their older kids, “Rutxe hupx y/n! I want you to meet my sister” you smile sweetly at her pleading eyes and sighed with a nod; how could you not say yes to her? “I be happy to, if it’s okay can I bring my younger brother along, he sits with me every day.” 

They agreed to let him join you, then walked out of the class with Tuk. The remaining children left shortly after and finish cleaning up the room, you felt a bit nervous to be having dinner with them, you thought about backing out in case it might be awkward but decided against it in the end, they were very kind people their children should more than reflect that. Jake was one of the most loved rulers of the Omatikaya clan, but in passing, you've never seen him act like he was worth more than anyone else.  

He is a noble man; you suppose that’s why Neytiri fell in love with him. You left the room and made your way back to your hut to get ready for the dinner. Your brother was already there when you arrived, “Kamea you’re home early isn’t training longer than this?” he was sprawled out on the floor, his training equipment laid messily on the floor next to the entrance. “Just introductions, made a couple friends than I came home, what at we doing for dinner?”  

“Uh we’re having dinner with olo’eyktan’s family tonight, they invited us to sit with them. Their youngest is in my class.” Ever since your parents passed, you and your brother have only had each other. When you first lost them, it was difficult to bounce back and you didn’t want to pitied stares of your people. So, you learned to take care of your brother at home. That included cooking in the comfort of your family home then slowly you would go back to communal dinners but only once in a while. The clan was not all that used to seeing you out and about.  

When dinner time arrived, you put on a pink and purple beaded top and matching loincloth to make your way to the center of the village with your brother walking behind you. Your nerves were getting the better of you now as you picked your nails and looked around anxiously, you didn’t see the family yet so you walked through the crowd politely greeting people who decided to greet you both.  

When you do spot the Sullys Tuk was jumping up and down waving at you, she calmed some of your nerves but her ruckus caused everyone else to turn to you. Jake and Neytiri stood and smiled as you walked over. You didn’t glance down at their other children just yet though. You and your brother brought your hands up to your forehead to greet them respectively. Only then did you both sit down directly in front two grown mean, who just so happen to be their sons. “That you so much for inviting us again, it was very kind of you”  

Tuk sat next to you and Jake and Neytiri formed a semi- circle connecting the group with their children across from you. “We are delighted ever since Tuk came home; she couldn’t stop talking about her new karyu. Kiri pass them the leaves.” A kind girl with a few braids in her lose hair introduced herself and as Tuk’s sister Kiri. “Ah so you are the sister she wanted me to meet, I am y/n” you smile at her sweetly and unwrapped the food. 

She smiled back at you then Jake spoke up, “Oh yea, let me introduce you, you know my wife and Tuk, this is Neteyam and Lo’ak my sons and well now you know Kiri” your eyes dart from Jake to the man sitting directly in front of you, Neteyam. You felt a blush creeping up he was gorgeous. Neteyam looked like Eywa carved him out of diamond. His skin somehow looked soft and tough at the same time, his hair braided neatly falling over his ears when he bent his head, and his eyes, Eywa his eyes were golden, the most beautiful shade of gold you’ve ever seen in eyes. You realized you were staring a bit too long when you noticed the smirk on his face and you brother elbowed you in the stomach. 

Your eyes dart down before they came up to greet them both. Lo’ak was seated right next to his brother directly in front of you. “This is my brother, Kamea. He just graduated to warrior training” you gesture to your brother speaking to them all. “I know, he’s in my group of trainees, I look forward to working with him” Lo’ak said which made you smile, you are glad your brother is making friends better than you did at his age.

Throughout the dinner you kept glancing at Neteyam as he ate and every time you made eye contact you were always the one to break it, “So you're a new teacher, that is impressive not many people can replace hupx O’laya.” Neteyam spoke to you, he actually said something to your face. “Yea she was my karyu too” you smile, “she was? How old are you? I don’t ever remember seeing you in her class” He spoke again. “I’m 22 I think I was in the year below you, we’ve never been in the same class” you dip your head to stare at your plate when felt the blush deepen on your face.  

“Oh, that explains it Neteyam is a year ahead of you, so let us about yourself are you mated yet?” Neytiri asked. “No, I’m not, I haven’t given it much thought”  

“Yea says the girl with the wedding scrapbook?” Kamea said. You whip your head to look at your brother giving him a menacing glare, but like the dumbass he is, he never stopped talking. “She hasn’t mated yet because she doesn’t know how it would work with everything, if it were up to her, she would have already found some poor sucker to take care of her.” 

You gasp dramatically putting your hands on your chest, “Poor sucker to take care of me? I’m the poor sucker taking care of you, you ungrateful rat.” you and your brother always bicker like that, sometimes you forget people are around. He was about to retort but you were brought back to reality by Kiri’s snickering, “they sound like you and Neteyam” she told Lo’ak making the family giggle. 

Your face was flush with embarrassment as you pinched your brother on the arm before you continue to eat, “What don’t you think won’t work if you mate?” You head whips up to Neteyam making eye contact with him, suddenly you lose your words, “um, I take care of my brother, I have been for years now, usually when you mate with a man you move out of your kelku and into his, well our parents are no more I can’t just leave him. My dreams of mating can wait”  

“Your parents passed I am so sorry” Kiri said but your eyes never left neteyam’s you were captivated in them. Your brother once again nudged your shoulder and you turned to Kiri not noticing the look Jake and Lo’ak exchanged. “It’s ok, it was a long time ago” you smiled softly at her, “I don’t think that should be a problem, if a man loves you and knows your situation you wouldn’t be inconveniencing him by allowing your brother to live with you” Neteyam spoke to you again.  

“You think? I don’t know, a couple of guys are courting but I haven’t decided if I’m ready to mate then yet” your face twisted a bit clearly showing the fact that you don’t like them which making Neteyam smirk. 

You practically ignored his presence when you first got there but he couldn’t stop staring at you, you were absolutely phenomenal, the colors of your outfit complimented your tone perfectly, your hair cascaded down your back effortlessly, your loincloths were longer than the women he usually sees but he admires your effort to stay modest when teaching young children.  

After dinner was over you said your goodbye hugging a crying tuk after you told her you couldn’t spend the night but promised to see her the next day. Your brother left during her crying session being tired and wanted to get some rest. The stars shined beautifully in the sky and you begin to walk away into the darkness towards your hut. “Wait up!” someone shouted behind you and you saw neteyam running up to you, that man just looks godly doing everything huh. 

“Let me walk you home it’s dark” he smiled at you; he was such a gentleman. “But who’s gonna walk you home?” you joked at he started to match his pace to yours, “Very funny I am a well-known and respected warrior karyu, I can handle walking at night” 

“Really, well respected I can understand but well-known? I’ve never met you before” you smile at him, being away from all the other prying eyes made it easier for you to relax and speak like you normally would, instead of being shy. You could see the your kelku coming into view and you were a bit sad your time with his warrior would be over.  

“Hey listen I want to ask you something, normally I’d go about this a different way but I don’t really want to wait. Would you do me the honor of letting me court you?” his question caught you so off guard. You understand the courting process starts right after meeting each other as adults but you couldn’t believe your future olo’eyktan wanted you on his arm. “You want to court me?” You stopped walking and turned to face him making him do the same. “Why?”  

“Why not, I met you a couple hours ago and, in that time, I’ve gotten to know you are single, you are smart, you have good mothering instincts and you are great with children, you are a good cook according to your brother, you put down a mean meal and still look sexy as ever, and one of the more obvious reasons, I think your so fucking beautiful”  

His hands have gotten a hold of yours while he was speaking and he looked into your eyes as he said every single word and you just knew he meant it. You have never met a man you wanted to get on your knees for so bad, and he wanted to make you love him. You almost asked him to pinch you so you’ll know you’re awake but decided if this was a dream, you aren’t gonna end it. 

“Neteyam..” you sounded awestruck as you whispered his name it makes him smile down at you so sweetly, you thought you were about to have a sugar rush. “Say it sweetheart, let me court you, let me make you mine” he took small steps closer until he was almost pressed up against you, one of his hands came up to your cheek stroking it softly with his thumb. “Yes, make me yours” 

His lips broke out into a smile triggering yours and pulled you into closer, his arm was now wrapped around your waist and you were pressed against his chest. His skin was warm it almost made you shiver thinking about pulling away. His eyes dart down to your lips and back up to your eyes as if asking for permission to kiss you.  

You leaned in and your eyes fluttered when he pressed his lips against yours softly. His lips were as worms as his body, kissing him felt like breathing a different kind of air, he was so gentle with you, so caring as if he could break you if he squeezed too hard. You tilt your head to deepen the kiss running your hands through his braids, rubbing your fingers against his head. You didn’t want to every stop kissing him, you never wanted to pull away.  

He swiped his tongue on your bottom lip and you wasted no time giving him access to your mouth. He leaned more into you causing you to bent back but you didn’t let him go, Neteyam held you tightly against him exploring the crevasse in your mouth. You moaned into the kiss when he latched into your bottom lip with his fangs and pulled on it separating you from the kiss.  

You didn’t waste any time chasing his lips as he pulled away making him chuckle, you continued to suck each other's tongue as if you weren’t out in the open and if anyone decided to walk pass, they would see you humping each other. You felt his bulge press against you between your thighs, you moan at the feeling of his clothed cock humping against your clit. Your time was cut short however by the someone clearing their throat behind Neteyam. 

You both jumped pulling away from each other, your lips were swollen and you suddenly felt the need to cover your body from the cold and you watched Neteyam cover his hands over his bulge was we watch his father and brother stand in front of us. Lo’ak sported a wide grin almost as if he was proud of his brother and his father stood with a neutral expression but his smile was cracking through.   

“I thought you were walking her home?” Jake said. “I was- I am” 

“And so how did you end up with your tongue down her throat? Or was her tongue down yours?” Lo’ak said. Your eyes dart to the floor and your toes played with the grass. 

You didn’t see the way Neteyam smiled at your shy behavior, “Why are you two even out here?” 

“Well son, Lo’ak brought it to my attention you’ve been gone for 20 minutes and I wanted to make sure you weren’t getting mauled by some freakishly large predator, but it seems like she’s the one getting mauled.” Neteyam was at least a head over you, he was very tall, kissing him made your neck hurt but fuck did you wanna do it again. “I’ll be right there let me take her home” 

Jake rolled his eyes at his son’s responses and Lo’ak just giggled like he a school kid. “It’s ok, I live right there, you did want you were meant to” you said to him softly gesturing to your kelku behind you and smiled at him. 

“Yea and seems like he did a lot more too” Lo’ak snorted as he tried to hold in his laugh. If you weren’t so embarrassed you’d see how funny this must look for someone else’s point of view. “How about I take you out tomorrow? After your class, I’ll come there and meet you” Neteyam grabbed your hand and laced your fingers with his smiling at you.  

“I’d like that, I’ll see you tomorrow then” you smiled as you begin to back away from him.  

“Yea I’ll see you” he smiles watching you turn and run away into the safety of your hut before turning back to his brother and father. 

They didn’t say anything besides tried to hold in their snickers about the whole situation, they can’t wait to watch this one play out. 

✨I hope you all enjoyed reading! I had fun with this one! Let me know if yall want a part 2 cuz I want to write one!

✨Reblogs, comments and likes are always loved and appreciated!

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[endereies]

YOU'RE MY PRIZE - MS

No Nut November - Day 17

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ Matt brings you to the carnival and wins just for you

When Matt said he had a surprise for you, you weren’t expecting to get out the vehicle at the main entrance of a famous carnival. 

It was only set up a few times a year, and with the queues, it wasn’t always an ideal situation. Ever since moving in with Matt, you’ve blabbed every time it sets up a new spot. After all, it was famous. The rides they hosted weren’t your average roller coasters and took several days to set up. Of course it had the classic helter-skelter and teacups. It was only when you looked deeper you saw the abundance of attractions. Set up haunted houses that genuinely left people horrified, stalls that seemed from creative aspect, and of course the Ferris wheel that was littered in light.  

“You’re kidding?!” The child like part of you rushed out as you jumped up and down, grabbing Matt’s tatted arm like a vice. 

“Figured it seemed like a perfect time” He wasn’t wrong about that, your anniversary had just past and he grabbed tickets off the website. You knew something was planned when you read through his card but he didn’t let up. His lips were sealed over the past week or so as you begged him for answers. Now that you had them and it was beaming in front of you, how could you ever complain. 

Once the roads were all clear, his hand was dragged by yours to the grand entrance. After all this time of you dreaming, it was stood before you. 

Matt handed over his phone to the manager and she handed it back, along with two tickets. You’d scanned everyone else’s ticket before yours and they seemed to be a lime scale sort of green. Yet yours were a deep purple. Your boyfriend thanked the manager before laughing at your confused face. “Read it, baby...”  

So, you did. The bold letters ‘VIP’ covered the back of the ticket in a gold colour. “What!” 

“If I am treating m’girl tonight, I’m doing it right. After all you deserve it”  

You both stopped walking as you practically tackled his side. Both of your hands gripped his body tightly, shoving your head into his shoulder “Thank you!” 

“You can thank me after, how about we enjoy ourselves.” 

Most of the evening was a collective of rides a day stalls. With the upgraded tickets that Matt got, most of the queues were cut short. But after a long while of the intense rides, the pair of you decided to sit down on a bench and eat some food. You both got burgers which you could see the steam come from as your order was handed to you. The homemade milkshake relaxed the bouts of energy inside. It was a comfortable silence you were in, one that left the sounds of the crowd, chewing and slurping in its wake. Your eyes started to scan the many stalls you had yet to venture down.  

Those games always seemed a scam and yet the child like spirit inside invited you so willingly. Matt giggled when he saw you eye up a certain stall. It was a line up of wooden clown slabs which had a bunch of cricket balls a few metres away. They seemed heavy in the way they shook but your eyes traced all the designs of them. 

“Want to go over?” Your shock from his voice made him giggle before repeating himself so you heard. “baby, do you want to do that one?”  

You knew he saw you gawk at it so there was no point in hiding your excitement. “Absolutely!” 

The burgers were quickly finished and discarded before you walked straight towards the  red stall, the stripes on the outside calling you. 

“Hey you two, think you can handle this?” The host gestured animatedly towards the rows of clowns. A smirk crossed your face as you instantly grabbed a note from your wallet and handed it to him. Matt finally met your side after you rushed ahead, watching a group of balls land just by your stomach. It was a lot more than the number of clowns and as soon as a timer started you knew why. 

After picking up the first ball, you swung your arm to throw at the centre of a clown’s face. The wood wobbled before clattering backwards. With spawned courage another ball quickly followed a larger clown and yet it barely moved.  

Sure you weren’t strong but even kids played this game, you couldn’t be that bad, right? By the time the buzzer for the timer rang, only four got pushed over. You hadn’t meant to sulk but your expression was clear. It was towards an obvious plushie you must’ve noticed, it was a cute otter stuffed animal that was curled up around its tail. 

“Let me have a go.” Matt’s voice was stern as he slammed a note on the wood next to the abandoned ball bucket. Your body turns back and the bag of balls gets replaced while the machine holds up the four clowns you knocked over previously. 

While they do so, you remain quiet so Matt can focus. His hand rises as he tosses the ball up and down in his palm, gathering its weight. Once the signal was given he leant back and pelted the ball, hammering down the clown you first attempted. It fell with such ease. 

Years of lacrosse and hockey built his strength and precision, he wasn’t going to disappoint. Ball after ball, each clown was clattering as they fell, rebounding slightly on the floor. He only stumbled on a few as when that buzzer rang, the last one bounced and sounded on the concrete. He tossed a spare ball into the bucket and handed it back to the host who was a little shocked at the intense strong skill he had. 

“Well..sir, which shall be your prize.” He smirked at you before he spoke. “That bottom otter please.” 

The host jumped slightly to grab the large otter off its hook and handed it to Matt. “Here. Congratulations!” They smiled at each other before setting up a game for another child. 

“Here baby, think this belongs to you.” Your face lit up as he pushed it towards you. “I saw you eyeing it up after you played. 

“Matt...you didn’t have to, this is so sweet” As much as you tried to hide it, you were so giddy to finally hold its softness against your chest. It was the perfect material and softness, it only made you thank Matt harder. 

“I love you Matt, thank you...” His hand came up to your chin, tilting your head towards him. 

“I love you more baby, besides, you’re my prize.” 

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© ENDEREIES 2024