#I went from taking a portion of the work to most of it

[wearysparrows]

Flesh of my Flesh

ao3/masterlist

Part 1 / Part 2/ Part 3 (here)

Summary: You play a game of tag in the forest with your closest friend, Sylus. You eat at a local diner in the dead of night. You dream of consuming him.

CW: implied afab reader but no pronouns used, no use of 'Y/N', reader is MC, primal chase, you play tag with Sylus, depictions of eating, a diner date, eyeball licking but its in a dream, cigarettes, not beta read, minor depiction of Sylus torturing someone 5.8K

A/N: Please mind the tags. The latter portion of this work is inspired by this lovely piece by @relentlessconqueror.

In the serene dark of the forest, you walked next to Sylus. The bodies of the birches and firs grew so tall into the night that they nearly blotted out the light of the moon overhead. A wetness hung on the air, the kind that fed the moss under your feet and the fungi that erupted from it. The soft earth was pliant underneath your steps, with a springy return to it that aided your stride. Sylus had given you hold of his arm, lest you stray from him in the darkness – as if such a thing were possible. You glanced at the man whose arm you held, the leather of his jacket somehow warm under your fingers, despite the chill in the air. A black cigarette hung from his lips, its own orange moon in his mouth. He returned your gaze, taking the cigarette from his lips into two of his fingers. He exhaled smoke from his nostrils.

“Sylus,” you called, though he was already looking at you. He stopped, pausing the both of you. When his name fell from your lips, tilted his head, offering you a questioning upturn of the corners of his mouth in return. You were comfortable enough to make your childish need known to him, and that he would likely indulge you. After all, you were more similar than you had ever realized before. He leaned down towards you, as if to better catch your words. His hair fell over his forehead.

“I want to play.” 

On the distant highway, a car passed, and the light of its headlamps cut into the trees. For a moment, Sylus’s eyes were illuminated. They reflected the light in a way that was inhuman, a flash of the yellow-green reflective organ behind his iris – so brief you wondered if it had been real. At the Hunter’s Academy, you had dissected the eye of a Wanderer for an anatomy course. Lying behind its retina was the organ that reflected light back onto the eye – the tapetum lucidum –  allowing increased visibility in the night. Common in nocturnal creatures. You knew humans lacked this organ. You swallowed. His eyes never left yours.

“What would you like to play?”

You took a step back from him, and he took one towards you, closing the distance between you before it had even had the chance to occur. The smile hadn’t gone from his face, and he raised an eyebrow, as if sensing your intention without the need for the passing of words between you. You pointed at him, your fingertip brushing his chest.

“Let’s play tag. You’re it.”

Sylus nodded without a second thought, snuffing out his cigarette into the portable ashtray on his keys. He returned it to his pocket.

“I’ll give you a ten second head start, then.”

Sylus was being courteous, you knew. You were strong – light on your feet from years of hunting Wanderers. You were quick, too. No stranger to sprinting, with a lung capacity that rivaled most individuals of your size. But Sylus was a big man, with long, powerful legs. If he wanted to, he could outstride you in seconds. It wouldn’t be fun for either of you if he caught you immediately, though. He would give you a chance.

“One,”  he said, voice teasing, the number long and drawn out. As he spoke, you saw the liquid change in his demeanor, the preparedness of his body to launch itself into the hunt, no longer a man at rest, but a beast prepared to strike.

  You turned on your heel, pushing yourself into a run on the spring of the damp earth beneath you. No particular direction called to you – you simply went opposite of Sylus. Your blood coursed through your newly working limbs, heating you outward from your core and into the swing of your arms, the movement of your legs. Your breaths came in practiced counts, and the exhilaration of your own prowess made you feel even lighter on your feet. You couldn’t quite run at full speed, though – your vision alternated between the ground before you and the space in front of you, avoiding rocks and roots, the tree limbs that snatched at your clothes, slicing at your skin. The weather was just cool enough that you could see the condensation leave your nose with each outward breath. Under your jacket, you felt the first wetness of the sweat of exertion.

You strained your ears to hear beyond your own breathing and heartbeat. Trees passed you by in a blur of greys and greens, an endless sea of the same repeated images. You had already strayed far from having any idea of your location. There was no point in taking note. As you ran, you counted. Ten seconds had long passed, but you couldn’t catch wind of Sylus. On you went, knowing that looking behind you would only stall your progress.  You began to feel the familiar burn in your muscles, the result of pushing yourself from zero to one-hundred in the span of a moment. The red gem you wore around your neck – a gift from Sylus – bounced up and down against your chest, trying to escape its chain. You clasped it in your fist to still its movements. It was dark, and you could see less than a foot in front of you. You wondered if Sylus was toying with you, staying behind to let you run yourself ragged before he would spring himself on you at the last moment. You relaxed your pace at the thought.

 Just as you began to slow to ease the tension, your ears pricked at a sound – footfalls growing closer behind you, the brush of clothing against itself. Your heart picked its pace back up, your skin alight with the feeling of being stalked in the dark. You pushed yourself harder, willed yourself to go faster, but the sounds behind you kept their quiet pace, inching ever closer. For a time, the distance remained the same between the two of you. Even if you increased your pace, forcing your feet to pound the ground even harder, he maintained the distance. Not closing it, not letting up. 

Knowing he could gain on you easily at his leisure, you decided to make a turn, trying to throw off his line of action. You made an immediate right, digging your heels in to change your directory, leaping over a fallen bough before you. You landed softly on the plush dirt. You felt yourself beginning to tire from the constant pace, from the effort of avoiding rocks and roots, the changes in the elevations of the earth. Still, you ran from him. You thought you heard the click of the metal of his belt, the sounds of his steps somehow even closer than when you had changed your direction. Running miles over the grounds of Linkon was nothing for you, but the thinness of the air and the unevenness of the ground had you breathing through your mouth, panting, feeling a pack of black dogs nipping at your heels. The saliva on your tongue was thick, the cold air drying out your teeth. So long had you known Sylus that you could sense his presence behind you, keeping pace at a distance he chose. But it was different, singular in its oppressive need to catch you. You knew you shouldn’t – that it would mean the end of the game – but you chanced a look backwards over your shoulder as you ran. The need to see your pursuer overrode the need to escape. He was close, so close you could almost make out all of his features. But most striking of all were his eyes, stark pinpoints of crimson in the darkness. They seemed to glow, red and hot with the chase. A primitive fear lanced through you, and rational thought drained out from your feet, soaking into the dirt. He was reaching for you, going to get you, to consume you – teeth around your neck, over and over, your jugular crushed under his hot breath, no more than flesh between his teeth. The new adrenaline of your fear gave you one final push forward, but you hadn’t been looking in front of you. A root reached up from the earth, catching the toe of your boot, sending you careening towards the ground. 

You tried to propel your body forward away from his grasp while in the air, but to no avail. His hand caught you around your middle, easily eclipsing your stomach. Primal panic pumped through you, the feeling of an animal just shy of the claws of a predator, dangling from the teeth of the moment. You heard yourself yelp involuntarily, and turned towards him, scrabbling at his hands and arms with your nails, your legs kicking. The knowledge of your relationship was momentarily forgotten, replaced only with the need to flee. The force of your resistance sent the two of you sprawling, and you felt Sylus close his arms around your entirety as you fell. He landed with a soft thud against the earth, the wind just knocked from his lungs. You were straddling him, head pressed into his chest from firm his grip on you. Something reached your ears, and you realized it was the sound of his laughter, not triumphant, but an exhale of exhilaration.

“You’re pretty good at running away. But I’ve got you, now.”

His voice was a rasp against your skin. He made no move to let you up. You pressed your nose into his chest, unabashed in inhaling his scent. The smoke of the cloves clung heavily to him still, the citrus of his cologne – but most prominent was the masculine smell of his sweat, fresh from the well of his skin. It was somehow different this time (for you knew all of his scents), laced with some layer of excitement, the rush of his blood, the pleasure of the chase. It was, in some sense, the smell of his desire for you. Your own desire, what you thought must be of another kind entirely, clawed its way through your belly, a wanton creature, slick and wet inside your innards. He surrounded you in every way, and you were so empty of him. You made move to sit up, and he let you, hands drifting to your waist, instead. Underneath you, in the moonlight, it was as if it was you who had caught him. 

His jacket was unzipped, and his black shirt underneath rode up, exposing the taut flesh of his abdomen to your eyes, decorated with a trail of white hair that disappeared into his pants. There was a tension in his neck, you saw. His tendons slid over each other under his skin, his jaw working at nothing. His Adam's apple cast a strong shadow on his neck. What little light the moon shone on him reflected the sheen of his sweat on his forehead, his hair brilliantly white in its light. He was totally still under your observations, save for his eyes, which darted around each contour of your face, pupils just nearly eclipsing that infernal, otherworldly red. You saw his breaths come through his nose, the rise and fall of his broad chest underneath you. Unthinkingly, you spread your hands out on the skin that was open to you, splaying them open on his abdomen. There was a stutter of a breath that he took through his mouth, this time. His skin was still slightly damp, warm underneath the cooling skin of your fingertips. You pushed his shirt up, up, until his chest was fully exposed. He made no move to stop you. As your heart came back into your chest, so too did the reality of the situation. You, astride the lap of your closest friend, his shirt exposing his flesh, a pale silhouette against the dark of the earth beneath him. His chest still heaved, no longer with physical exertion, but with something else. His thumbs dug into the crests of your hips. Unable to produce anything else, you managed a single word.

“Sylus.”

You felt his arousal clearly underneath you.

Your mind worked feverishly to still itself. It wasn’t because it was you – just the nature of two bodies against one another, the pump of adrenaline, the intimacy of closeness with another thing with the pulse of life in it. A biological response. This was not the first time this kind of thing had occurred between you, nor was it likely to be the last. Sylus never addressed it, so neither did you. On top of him here, there was no corpse of you – only the delicate satin of the darkness. A great indulgence and a sense of restraint all at once. You could never let those threads snap.

And so you took his shirt by the hem, and pulled it back into its place, shielding the ghost of him from your prying eyes. Sylus, ever following the whims of your strong and strange moods, sat up, wrapping his arms around you. He lifted the two of you to a standing position with only the power of his legs, and set you gingerly to your feet. The ease with which he lifted you never failed to reignite a sense of exhilaration in your blood. That blood rushed eagerly to your head, and you saw spots before you could formulate further thought. When you finally blinked them away, Sylus was kneeling in front of you. You spoke downwards, in the direction of the broadness of his back.

“Why are you kneeling?”

You heard the breathlessness that still tinged your voice from your game. You felt a tug at your ankles. His fingers were deftly reworking the laces of one of your boots. He stood back to his full height before responding, having righted the lace.

“Your shoe came untied when you fell. I can’t have you falling again on my watch, now can I?” 

His former statement was matter of fact, as if there were nothing strange in the nature of him on his knees, adjusting your shoes. He looked at you with those same eyes, full of a mirth you couldn’t source. There was a ceaseless yearning in your chest, the need to reach for him, to be consumed by him, to consume him. The game of tag only made the wound weep harder. It was clear there was affection in his actions, but of what kind, you were afraid to know. You wanted to ask him; do you love me? If so, how? In what way?

But instead, you conjured only this:

“Sylus, would you kill for me?”

You saw the rare flicker of surprise over his features, then the return of his smile that came more and more easily, around you. He answered the invisibility of your ache, rich and warm.

“My light, I already have.”

You sat across from Sylus in a booth seat, a wobbly table separating you. He had brought you to this diner on his bike – the only place that was open so late at night in a small town like this. The interior was charmingly out of date, with wood paneling lining the lower halves of the walls, the upper portion of which had probably at some point been white. Now, it was an aged ivory, colored by smoke. In the center of the diner, a traditional wrap around bar curled, complete with stools, though no other patrons graced it. The two of you were the only customers. The red leather of the booth seat creaked underneath your movements as you adjusted yourself to be more comfortable. You fiddled with a leaf of the fake plant that lived at the end of the table against the wall. It stalwartly protected the salt and pepper shakers in its shade.

Your eyes drifted to Sylus, who was focused on you. Having your attention on him, he tapped the top of your hand with his index finger.

“Hungry? You should eat something, sweetie.”

You took a moment to appraise the state of your body. You were hungry. Sylus had worked diligently to bring back the appetite that had left you along with your family before you met him. There was always food, even when you rejected it. Slowly, he had you eating on a regular schedule again. It showed in the new definition in your muscles, in the energy that prickled under your skin. That residual fog hardly plagued you, now. You nodded, flipping up the hand he had tapped, opening your palm to him. He stroked it idly with two fingers. You grasped them between your thumb, index, and middle, trapping them in a cage. 

“What about you? Are you hungry?” 

You tugged on his fingers. He watched the movement as he answered.

“I’ll eat if you will eat.”

A  non-committal answer, but one you would accept. Sylus rarely expressed base needs – I’m hungry, I’m tired – but he certainly did inquire after yours on the regular. You flipped his hand over with your fingers, pinning it down. He met your eyes again, raising his free hand to signal the waitress over. She drifted out of the center bar and towards you. A waifish sort of thing, with an air of confidence about her that came with age. Soft blonde hair, a delicately sloping nose. The uniform she wore was baby blue, with white lapels and buttons. Antiquated by anyone's measure, sure, but cute. She regarded you with an amiable smile, hardly seeming to acknowledge Sylus’s presence.

“Can I start you off with some coffee?”

She had a strange lilt to her voice, like it was an effort to speak with any sort of inflection. You glanced at Sylus, who merely shrugged. It was the dead of the night – but this was normal for you, now. You returned your eyes to the waitress. 

“Sure, thanks. Um,”

You were about to ask for a menu, seeing as there wasn’t one lining the walls, nor one in front of you, but Sylus commandeered the attention of the waitress, and was listing off a rather egregious number of breakfast dishes. You surmised he must have been here before – or he was simply making demands. They were both equally as likely. The waitress scribbled furiously on her notepad, nodding as he spoke. She offered you a smile full of brilliantly white, straight teeth before disappearing into the kitchen. It was deadly silent in the diner. You scrutinized Sylus. You hadn’t even had a chance to consider what you might like to eat before he had taken the initiative. You tapped his hand, reflecting his earlier actions.

“Did you order the whole menu, or what?”

Sylus sat back against the cushion of the booth. It was too small for him – his shoes were touching yours under the table, and very nearly his knees, as well. He tapped your foot with his own. Once, twice. Your stomach flipped with each touch.

“Would you like me to?”

You sighed, relenting. There wasn’t any winning with him – but you weren’t exactly losing, either. He was no stranger to your food preferences, this you knew. Sometimes, he had to remind you of something you didn’t like while you were mid-order. All the time you had spent together had allowed him to know you better than you knew yourself, in some regards. Sylus was shedding himself of his jacket when the waitress returned with the carafe of coffee, and you thanked her quietly, unsure if she had even heard you, for she disappeared as soon as she came. You filled both of your cups, then stopped just short when filling Sylus’s. You nudged the cup at him.

“Black or room?”

You always asked him, even when you knew what his answer would be. 

“It doesn’t make a difference to me.”

Sylus’s fingers were about to close around the rim of the cup, but you swatted him away, sliding the cup towards yourself instead. Sylus parted his lips into a smile.

“Kitten has claws.”

You rolled your eyes in his direction, reaching for the sugar and creamers. One packet of sugar and two creamers went into his cup. He watched all of this with marked interest, fingers interlocked beneath his chin, supporting it. You took the spoon from your own coffee, and used it to stir his. You slid the cup back to him, and he caught it in his left hand. He brought it wordlessly to his lips, seeming not to care about the still piping temperature of it. You watched as his plush lips disappeared around the rim of the cup, hiding all of his features from you, save for his eyes. They stayed interlocked with your own as he sampled your concoction.

You tilted your head at him, and gestured to the coffee cup as it left his lips and returned to the table.

“How is it?”

He was quiet for a moment. His gaze, still locked with yours, only seemed to intensify. You felt as if he were skinning you with them. Salt on so many wounds. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end. 

“It’s sweet. Not bad.”

His tone had taken on a sense of languorousness, dark and slow. You swallowed the saliva that had been gathering in your mouth, and were almost certain Sylus was able to catch the sound of it sliding down your throat by the way his gaze drifted to your neck. You couldn’t hold it, and your own eyes drifted to the tiles. They were strange. Black and white, checkered. The more you tried to look at them, the more they blurred together. They swayed in your vision. You concluded that looking at Sylus was the better option. He was sipping at the coffee you had made him, his phone open on the table. 

“No service out here.” 

He murmured the statement into his cup. You leaned over the table, peeking at his phone. He was right – not a single bar. 

“Scared?”

You nudged his knees apart under the table, and put one foot in his lap. His hand immediately came to rest on your ankle, and squeezed idly up your calf. He blinked at you, lips curling up on one side.

“Are you? All alone out here, with a bad man like me. No one to call.”

As he spoke, his evol pinned your wrists together in your lap. He was grinning. You made a show of pretending to struggle against your bonds. In the back of your mind, you knew that despite your own strength, you wouldn’t have been able to break them. He had held you captive just like this more than once when you first met – and so did the linkage. The memory was fresh and distant all at once.

“What will I do now that the one person I’d call for help has turned on me, and is holding me captive?”

You were smiling, teasing, and saw something come over Sylus’s features. Something he tried to school into his usual expression. Something you couldn’t place. Then suddenly he was standing, and instead of sitting across from you – he sat down next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulders. The bonds of his evol were gone without a trace. His warmth seeped into you, his sudden proximity finding your heart thudding away at its cage. His casual closeness was a delicious form of torture. You wanted more than anything to put your hand on the meat of his thigh. It touched yours, flush. He spoke, leaning his head towards your ear.

“I don’t need bonds to keep you near me anymore. Isn’t that right?”

You watched as Sylus’s hand crawled into your lap. He wrapped his fingers clean around your wrists, connecting them with his thumb, replacing the shackle of his evol. You could feel the calluses of his palms, the roughness of his hands. Your breath was stuck in your throat, the blood rushing to your ears and face. You lowered your voice to a whisper, feeling narrowly aware of the fact that you were technically still in public.

“I don’t mind being bound to you. By you. As long as you’re by my side.”

There was a shift in Sylus’s body, a spike of energy radiating off of him, and he leaned impossibly closer to you. So close that you could hear his lips part from each other as he prepared to speak. The sound of the footsteps of the waitress returning seemed to stop him. He let some of his weight off of you – but his fingers didn’t release your wrists. You didn’t want him to. It wasn’t like being shackled – it was secure. Safe. Protected. You forced your eyes from the pretty bouquet of your hands and his, and craned your neck around Sylus’s big body to see what was being brought to you. The waitress had arrived with a whole damn cart of food, steaming hot dishes of all types of breakfast items. Omelettes, sausages, pancakes, bacon, waffles, hash browns, toast – the works. She was organizing them neatly on the table with practiced ease. The combination of the sight and the smell made your mouth water. Sylus thanked her, and you caught the undercurrent of enthusiasm in his tone. He gave your wrists a final squeeze before releasing them from his grasp. You mourned their absence despite yourself. 

You turned towards Sylus at the same time he turned towards you.

“How are we going to–”

“Eat anything–”

You stopped yourself as you realized your sentence was crashing into his – or was it his into yours? Sylus put a set of silverware in your hands, wrapped in a cloth napkin. He started again.

“Eat anything you’d like.”

You appraised the food before you. Sylus seemed to be waiting patiently for you to make the first choice – so you picked something that looked good at random. A stack of pancakes, with a generous pat of butter on top. Perhaps too many pancakes. You unrolled your silverware, and spread the butter on top of them.

 Satisfied that you were eating, Sylus pulled a plate towards himself. It was mostly meat, coupled with a side of eggs. You watched him in your periphery. It was good to see him eat, a sort of vicarious satisfaction. You liked the sound of the click of his teeth on his fork, the movement of the muscles in his jaw. Even the sound of his chewing was good. What you couldn’t eat, Sylus did. You hadn’t initially pinned him for a big eater because of his refined tastes, but you came to find a man his size consumed a considerable amount of food. You ate next to him in relative silence, and his elbow bumped yours, occasionally. Neither of you mentioned it. His thigh hadn’t stopped pressing against yours, either. In reality, the booth was too small for two people to be eating next to each other – but again, neither of you mentioned it. 

As for the food, nothing was wasted, and you came away a little too full. You wiped at your mouth with the cloth napkin, hoping to catch any mess. Sylus had produced a comically large roll of cash from his pocket, and was putting it into the fingers of the waitress, who seemed too shell shocked to know how to respond for a time, and then collected herself, thanking him quietly. Her eyes came back to you, and you sat up a little straighter under her attention. The question of why he couldn’t use his card briefly crossed your mind.

“I hope it’s not too strange of me to say, but the two of you are a beautiful couple.”

You almost instantly found the words to correct her, not wanting Sylus to think you entertained the idea, that you had any misconceptions about your place in his life. No, we’re not dating, he’s my best friend. But Sylus was quick to speak, stopping your statement before it could even start.

“Thanks.”

The waitress nodded, floating away with little clicks on white kitten heels. She wiped the already clean bar with a rag. Your stomach was practically in the soles of your feet. Somehow, his lie scathed more than if he had told her the truth. You knew it was easier than explaining, saving him the effort of articulating the strange closeness of your friendship. Still, it put a slippery hope in your fingers that you had tried so many times to let go of. By now, your hands were permanently imprinted with its shape.

You dreamt of Sylus often. 

Sometimes, these dreams differed little from reality. Mundane happenings, not of any note. Sometimes things were strange, off. Sometimes, you dreamt you were Sylus, sure and strong. A man bent over at the waist before you, somewhere devoid of light. Your evol had already cut out his tongue. There was nothing left, save for a punishment. A cane in your hand. You swung it into his soft abdomen.

Thwack!

Then, against his spine.

Thwack!

He crumpled before you.

But this wasn’t that kind of dream.

You were somewhere achingly familiar – Sylus’s bedroom – or perhaps a cave. Dark and warm. The air warped around you, unable to keep its shape for long. Sylus was holding you around the waist as you straddled him. But his hands were creeping up, locking around your ribcage, lifting you up just so you were looking down at him, directly into his face. There was something peculiar there. Something different. A shadow on his jaw, above his head. When you tried to chase these shapes with your eyes, they dissipated like the smoke from his lungs. You tried to feel them with your skin, instead. You cupped his jaw with your palm. Felt the sharpness of it, the proud bones of his face. But there was that eye. That right eye of his, so irresistible in its pull. It called to you with your own voice – or was it his voice? You couldn’t be sure. His lips weren’t moving, but you heard him, still. Not with words. His feelings merged with yours like cool water trickling from your scalp, down your spine, absorbing into your skin. Impressions, ideas. Memories.

…need me. Use me. Claim me.

His right lid was open and inviting before you. He hardly blinked. It was as if he was waiting for it. Expecting it. Wanted it. His aura was palpable with excitement, breath coming quickly.

You parted your lips, tongue slipping out between them. You closed the distance between his right eye and your mouth. Your tongue met his eye, first the tip, then flat against it. It was wet against wet. Sylus’s hands around your waist squeezed, scratched, but made no move to push you off. He took a great shuddering breath. 

A bizarre copper-salt taste, the tissue more delicate and pliant under your touch than you could have ever imagined. You curled your tongue around it, slipping it under the bottom lid and against his tear duct. He was shifting underneath you, body racked with tension, legs just short of thrashing. But his hands kept you firmly in place. He was making sounds, you realized, with each movement of your tongue. Soft grunts and whines, pleasure and pain indistinguishable from one another. He was hard underneath you.

…take me. All of me, and more. Use me.

Slowly, slowly, you felt your tongue slide into the space behind his eyeball, through its inner corner. It was coming away easily, announcing its new home with the slick, wet sounds of release from Sylus’s socket. It fell away with a schluck, into your waiting mouth, still white hot with the life of him. Without warning, it dissolved, shrinking there in the heat of your throat, until it had melted away like snow, leaving only its essence behind. You swallowed. A sweet, melancholy floral taste. A cavernous pain sat in the center of your hips, a splitting and a reconnection of the sacrum. There was an ache that was deeply satisfied, an emptiness, filled. You were one with him, finally.

Your eyes snapped open in the waking world. 

Sweat was sticking you to the silk of the sheets, and you turned on your side to escape from it. The air felt cool on your back where your body’s fear had soaked through your nightgown. As you turned, you became acutely aware of another body next to yours. This was not your room.

Sylus.

You were in his bed, after all. You feared to wake him with your movements, but he was already turning towards you. You faced each other in the dark. You could just barely make out his features, cast almost blue in the lack of light.

“Are you alright?”

You were certain he hadn’t been sleeping. His voice lacked the roughness that it would take on when he had just woken. His hand brushed the hair from the back of your neck, releasing the heat that was trapped there. You shuddered, involuntarily. 

“I had…a dream. About you.”

You weren’t sure how to quantify it. Neither bad nor good seemed fitting descriptors. 

“What kind of dream?”

His fingers dislodged a lock of hair that your sweat had stuck to your forehead, and then returned to holding the back of your neck. A grip that possessed. You were reminded he could see clearly in the dark, for his eyes had a kind of phosphorescence to them in the deepest of nights. Outside, the rain battered at the windows of Onychinus’s base. 

You weighed the truth of your dream. You and Sylus shared many things, some of which were beyond your understanding. There was a tie there that Sylus couldn’t offer you a full explanation of. You teetered between the fear of his disgust, and your all consuming trust in him. The latter won out.

“It was so strange. I... ate your eye. You were seizing underneath me, in pain or…I don’t know. But you didn’t want me to stop. You held me in place. Told me to keep going.”

Sylus’s fingers stroked the back of your neck, sending a tingling sensation shooting up and down your spine. You adjusted your ankles, rubbing them together under the blanket. His voice was coarse. It melted into the dark, as if it were a part of it, coming from all around you.

“Were you satisfied?”

“I’m…not sure. In the dream, I think so.”

Sylus braced his other hand around your lower back, and drew you to him so that you were laying on his pillow, just above him, your body against his. Your lips hovered just next to his right eye. 

“Then it was a good dream.”

tags: @villain-of-the-dark, @withering-dream

[auricatte]

Tora seems to be doing better after his stroke. He's currently on special food made for cats with cancer, and it's definitely helping him with his weight. Doesn't help that he's still a hospice cat with failing kidneys and hyperthyroidism.

As for me... hah. My bad arm popped really loud the other day and has been screwed up since. Work messed up my back. I have shoulder issues connected to the bad arm. My carpal tunnel and tendinitis are making my hands useless sometimes.

And on top of that, both of my veins that I get blood drawn from regularly collapsed today! Let's just add pain and stress to my current pain and stress, hmm?

[sugarverse]

Hiii! I was wondering if I could request either long or short fic about Tenya Iida. Likes it can be set in a modern setting where's he's a senior college student who's majoring in business and he has to take one more class to get his degree. It just so happened that the class is in the art building, and it is figure drawing (aka nude drawing) . Since he's just now hearing of the extra class he has to take, he's suddenly shocked when the model is an old friend of his from back home, whom he had a childhood crush on. Not only does his feelings for her come back, but he also has to have 1 on 1 section with the model for educational purposes. I kinda want it to be smut and fluff or however you see it fit. Anyway, I hope it's enough+

hi babe! omg I love this idea I kinda went a lil crazy and made it way too long. I hope u enjoy :)!!

𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙣 𝙏𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧

word count: 3.5k

mentions of: This is really just the fluff portion of it, kinda suggestive bc he pops a boner and leads to sex in part two. I think I’m going to make a third part simply so the two of you can go on a genuine date andsotheresmoreiidaxblackreaderouthere.

a/n: hells yeah that’s enough, hopefully I did what ya asked and so sorry I went overboard I have serious problems. here’s the smut part bc a 6.7k fic is doing too damn much but i can’t stfu my fault gang

moodboard here!

Tenya Iida.

4th year, Senior in college majoring in International Business and minoring in Spanish at Angelwood College of Arts and Sciences.

The visual arts building had only been a few minutes away from the business side of campus, which he gladly enjoyed the walk. This spring all he needed to finish was two gen ed classes, the rest revolved around his major and minor. His counselor helped set up his ‘missing’ classes before winter break considering he had to fly back to Japan to see his family for the holidays. He was ecstatic to learn all he needed was an art class with lab and a communications class. 

When he asked what the class entailed, all he was met with was “beginner artists learning anatomy.” It didn’t sound difficult, just draw what you see. It would be nice to try something new anyway. He was not much of an artist but like all things Tenya does, he planned to give this class his all. The first week had been pretty easy, learning how to draw what you see with the use of models, shapes, and lines. Nothing too hard to follow. He would practice drawing his friends on the sketchpad he bought specifically for the class as a form of studying in the free time he had.

He neverminded it for the most part, excelling his knowledge in different countries in his free time to get better at his major. Sure they could teach you the technical way to do things, but in the end, everyone is still human. It would be inconsiderate to do business with a country and know little to nothing about their culture! It took almost two weeks for him to finally be able to even start the art project anyway.

As time went on and the January snow grew less and less, it was time to start their first real project of the semester. One on One figure drawing. The class needed to fill out a form explaining their free hours due to the limited art space and everyone's different schedules. Tenya happily filled it out when it was posted, continuing to work on class work from the library so that the lecture room could also be used for said project.

Their professor had explained that in-person class would remain on Mondays and Thursdays. It just worked out better for the models and students to have so much space.

He made the small walk over to the arts building for his last class of the day, a small shine in his glasses as he entered the white light of the room. The walls were anything but bare, artwork and unfinished projects sat in every corner of the room. Paint racks, canvases big and small, even stacks of unused clay. There was a stool sitting on a small platform in the middle of the room, assuming where the model will sit. 

He stood next to the stool for a moment, looking up at the grey February sky through the skylight. The natural lighting was great, almost like a spotlight. He adjusted the lights in the room a moment, dimming them slightly so the white light hadn’t been so harsh on his eyes. He headed over to a more organized table, setting out the art supplies how he liked. He knew he was early, but he wanted to make a good first impression. What’s better than being on time?

He pulled out his laptop, checking that the few assignments for today were done and submitted. A small frown tugged at his lips as he realized he hadn’t finished something completely, typing in the last few answers. He always double checked, technology was reliable.. When it wanted to be. He couldn’t hear the shuffle of slippers against the floor over his typing and frankly, loud thinking. 

He could see someone walk past in a teal robe representing the university's colors. Glancing up from the computer to give the model a proper hello, Tenya opens his mouth to speak but pauses. 

“Y/n?” He asked, almost in a whisper in case he was wrong. A small look of confusion caused him to tilt his head to the side slightly. He hadn’t been able to see you for awhile with such busy schedules, but he knew your silhouette by heart. 

You turn at the sound of your name, mid sliding off the slippers and fumbling with the gold silk of the belt. “Tenya?” You smile, asking as you turn to slide your shoes back on and quickly shuffle your way over to him. He felt his face burn red, frozen in place for a moment with his jaw slack. He stood as if needing to detach from the seat, smiling at your happy demeanor and your quickness to wrap your arms around him. 

“It is you! I know those shoulders from anywhere!” You beamed, feeling his hovering hands slowly place themselves on your back to return the hug. He was very hesitant, simply because you were only in a robe. You pull away, hands resting on your hips and giving him a big smile. “Now what are you doin’ taking a figure drawing class, Mister businessman?”

He let out a sheepish chuckle, “I needed an art credit, W-What are u doing here?” He never had any classes with you at Angelwood, A few honors classes and gym in highschool but other than that, nada. Throughout the course of growing up, your interests drove you to different classes. 

However, classes don't matter when your families are as close as yours and the Iida family. Shared Holidays, playdates, game nights.. It wasn’t like you were some stranger. You both always made time to hang out a few times during the year to catch up without the family just to give a real check on each other. It was his favorite, almost like a mini holiday to talk to you.

He loved spending time with you. You were smart, articulated and incredibly creative. You never took slack from anyone.. Even in middle school he can remember you being the one to stand up and say something when things weren’t right. You were headstrong and determined in anything that you did.. Art majors always get a lot of grief but you never let that deter you. And that was admirable in itself! ..And he had always thought you were so pretty. 

He felt like a kid again, heart feeling as if it’d beat out of his chest at the mere sight of you. It had been around Halloween the last time he saw you, and here it was. Almost Valentine's day.. Still as pretty and bright as he remembered. Your next hangout wasn't for another month or so, so it was nice to see you sooner than that.

“I'm your model, silly!” You head over to the stool, continuing to speak. “The art department asked if I’d help in modeling and I said yes! People were too scared to sign up for the most part. I’m surprised this is the class you picked. Did you want to learn how to draw people?” You slide your slippers off once more, untying the cute bow on your hip that held your robe shut. 

Suddenly the room was very hot and he couldn't breathe. Now his heart really WAS beating out of his chest. He quickly did a 180, shielding his eyes and removing his glasses for extra measure. “WHY– do yoU have.. nothing on underrrrneath?” He croaked, voice cracking as his tone raised slightly.

You tilt your head at such a question, the gears clicking a little later than they should have. “Figure drawing is um.. Nude drawing, Tenya. You didn't know that?” You slide the robe back on, giggling at the flustered man across from you. You could see his shoulders tense, shaking his head slowly.

Now how the fuck could he have missed that.

“I um.. No, I didn't. I thought that it was.. I don't know what I thought. My counselor picked it for me and I.. Most models we've used so far have.. had skin colored undergarments… On.” He let out a nervous laugh, keeping his glasses off. He turns around, cleaning them with the end of his shirt but refusing to look up at you. He needed to mentally prepare his brain to be professional in a situation like this. Not that he minded the glance, he just never thought this would be how..

You prop your feet onto the edge of the stool, interrupting his thought. You held your knees up to your chest so he couldn’t see anything but your bare legs. “Oh Ten, I’m sorry! I can ask someone else to-”

“No! I am perfectly.. capable. It's professional and I can be.. professional..” He put his glasses back on, hand refusing to be steady as he did so. He let out a shaky sigh, smiling at you and finally looking at you once more.

You let out a small laugh at the blush on his cheeks. He was so handsome, but to see him so flustered over little ol’ you? It made your week. “We can start slow, that might help.” you slide the robe down your shoulders, slowly putting your legs back down so he could see your robed torso once more. You stopped at the top of your breasts, letting your collarbone show. “Do you have any specific poses..?” You ask quietly, trying to hold back your amusement.

He sits down, red faced and completely flushed. A nude model.. jeez. From sleepovers to recess, studying together to graduating, and now almost graduating for the final time together. That's something you don’t get to have in every lifetime. But why do these thoughts keep coming back to him now? 

There was no way he could still have romantic feelings for you. He’d never put your friendship at risk like that!

..right?

“I um.. yeah, small.” He cleared his throat, “Could you um.. Could you stand slightly off of the um.. Almost like getting up?” He fumbled over his words, staring at the empty paper as if he could burn the quick image in his brain onto the page to get the embarrassment over with. He sighed once more, trying to focus as he began sketching circles and lines as a starter sketch of the pose he wanted.

“When you need to draw a certain part I'll move it, Sound fair?” You ask, resting one foot onto the stool and one onto the ground. Your hand gripped the seat as your butt sat on the edge, similar to when people do that supposedly hot thing where they throw their head back and pull some weird rope to have water get poured on them. 

It was second nature at this point for people to see you. Of course some of them were flustered and it was pretty awkward at first, but normally not to the point of stuttering and stammering. It wasn’t often that you saw Tenya fall apart, but this was way different. Especially considering you flashed him without warning. He was one of the most endearing people you had ever met, there was no way you would have done that without proper context.

He could only nod in response, not wanting to further make a fool of himself. Lightly tapping the pencil against the table, He looks up at you. “You can um.. re.. remove the top part, y/n..” It was hard to simply draw your arms and collarbone without including the robe, so you might as well rip the band-aid off and start with the top. 

You nod, dropping it happily and letting the robe pull around your hips and between your legs. You close your eyes, facing up toward the skylight in an attempt to make him less nervous. “Sorry for flashing you at first, I would have explained but I assumed you had already known..?” You laugh quietly to yourself at your own mistake. Why would someone like him even take this class if he knew what it actually entailed?

And God, did he feel like a pervert staring at your chest like this. The boner poking his thigh almost immediately didn't help, making it even harder to concentrate. Way to keep composure. He pressed his lips together for a moment before speaking. “I had no idea, I’m sorry for my r..reaction.” He answered, stopping the pencil tapping to actually begin sketching more than just circles and lines. He hadn’t meant to yell, but he felt like he was close to passing out. 

“I think it was a pretty valid one.” You send a reassuring smile his way, seeing him send you one right back. Trying to ease the mood, you look back up at the ceiling and close your eyes to avoid staring at the ugly overcast sky above you. “How was winter break? You get to go home and see your family? How are they?” 

His smile grew wider at your question, scooting under the desk a bit more so that you hopefully wouldn’t notice his body reacting. “They’re great, Tensei is getting married soon,” He sounded excited at the thought alone, incredibly proud of his brother. 

“And my mother has started a hobby making soap, if you can believe it. She sent me some to bring back one that smells like lavender and another that smells like oranges mixed with I believe she said papaya.? She made a coconut smelling one for you– I was going to give it to you the next time we saw each other,” 

The sound of his sketching stopped and started as he spoke, giving your body small glances as he tried to study each part of your upper torso. The way your stomach creased, The way your shoulder was slightly lifted causing your collarbone to be more prominent, the curve of your breasts.. “How was your Holiday, y/n?”

“No way, Tensei is getting married?!” You accidentally stop posing, fully facing him in genuine shock. The robe was still covering your lower half, you had tied the belt to avoid accidentally flashing him again but here we are. You watch his face become even more red, eyes very obviously not meeting yours but still like a deer in headlights. 

You quickly get back to posing how you were, “Sorry Ten, That's amazing!! I hope everything goes smoothly for him and his soon to be wife.. And tell your mommy I said thank you for thinking of me. I can't wait to try it!”

A smile stayed on your lips as you thought about the times you’ve spent in the Iida household. His mother always had the best candles and incense burning, you were positive the soap would be the same. “My family is up to the same old shit, you know them..” You let out a small groan, the holidays weren’t an absolute disaster, but after not being home so long makes you remember why you aren’t going to school anywhere near home. 

“I did get some cool stuff for Christmas though! I got some new clothes and they got me a few art kits. You know, where it teaches you how to crochet? I also have a new diamond painting kit, I haven't opened either yet because it's just been so busy.” You replied, tapping your fingers on the side of the stool where your hand sat. 

You look up once more, this time because the skylight was beginning to be covered in snow. You watched as it fell, thinking back to old times when you and Tenya would spend the last three major holidays with each other. You’d always make sure to trick or treat together, your families have been sharing Thanksgiving for as long as you can remember, and spending the night in your basement on Christmas eve to wait for Santa until you were both too old. Then instead of waiting for Santa, you’d all eat at least one meal together on Christmas day. Sometimes homemade breakfast, other times a small trip to IHOP or Waffle House.

“God damn it.. It’s snowing again..” You let out a small laugh, looking over at him over your shoulder, fingers still tapping away at the base of the stool. “Hey Ten, Do you remember when we used to have those big snowball fights? The one near Red Fern?” 

“Of course I do! You refused to wear any kind of gloves and my mother would make you at least put socks on your hands so you didn’t get frostbite!” The two of you shared a small laugh at the memories of being young and dumb.

“Gloves always made my hands too itchy! They still do– But I kicked your ass in snowball fights with gloves or not.” You retort, a smirk appearing on your face. “Ice queen y/n of everything.” You could remember the insane snowball fights the neighborhood kids would have every. time. It snowed. If there was enough to make a few snowballs, there was enough to start a war. Tenya was always on your team, but it never stopped you from throwing a few his way. The ‘winner’ was King or Queen of the hill and first to sled down, which often enough was you.

“Remember when you almost broke my glasses throwing one right at my face?” He snickered, watching your smirk turn into a small pouty frown. He knew you didn’t mean to, that same day you helped your mom make cookies for him and his family as an apology, even though he wasn’t upset to begin with. But you knew it could have broken his glasses and you would be devastated if you were the reason for it. You were a real sweetheart, even if you had a weird way of showing sometimes.

“Hey! You know that wasn’t on purpose, I felt really bad after! I even let you get me back!” Which was true, but he never aimed for your face. Always a spot on your fluffy coat, never your legs because you hated your pants being wet… and a face shot just felt wrong to him. 

“Yeah, Yeah. I remember that part too,” He smiled to himself. “Those were really good times.. I remember Tensei always bringing us hot chocolate and we’d sit on your porch and draw things in the snow..”

“Oh! And when we’d come back all wet and mom already had spare clothes in her hands because she didn’t want it on the carpet. We’d put on too big clothes just to sit and watch Christmas movies..” You missed those times. But they never really had to stop, you two could have a huge snowball fight after this if you wanted to and the snow stuck. Was he too grown for that? Would it even sound fun to him?

“Do you still watch A Year Without Santa Clause every year?” He asks, breaking your train of thought. You nodded quickly at his question, grinning like a maniac. “Of course I do! And I watch Charlie Brown’s Christmas, Rudolph The Rednosed Reindeer.. And sometimes Spongebob's Christmas Special. Do you still watch old Christmas cartoons?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Don’t wanna ruin tradition.” He answered, pressing his lips together slightly as he stared down at the paper. You can tell he freezes a bit, the sound of his scribbling coming to a stop. He set the pencil down, rubbing the sweat of his hands onto his thighs.

 “You can um.. remOove-..” He quickly cleared his throat, “The rest.” He let out a disappointed sigh at his inability to keep composure. This wouldn't be half the problem it was if it was someone else modeling. But this is you we're talking about. 

“You sure? If you need a minute we can take a break, honey.” You gave him a sympathetic look, still smiling but this time more.. warm. The kind of smile someone gives to another when they genuinely care for them. Or love them for that matter. He adored it, it was the same smile you'd give him when saying he needs to take a break, the same smile you give him when the two of you out to get coffee and catch up. The same smile he's fallen for many, many times. 

But to tell you the truth? It’s driving him crazy. All of this. Was driving him crazy. No matter how hard he tried to be professional, he could stop his wandering mind. You were a goddess. What else was there to do besides take a break and hopefully release some steam in the bathroom or something. Completely inappropriate, but the pain from being hard for so long was starting to cloud the best judgment. 

He looks down at the sketch so far, then back to you as he rubbed his hand upward against his face. It pushed his glasses up, causing them to be crooked when going back down. “I um.. I think I do.. need a minute.” His voice died out as he watched you slide the robe back on, words failing him because couldn’t think completely straight.

© if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot and helps me out. Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!

thank you @thecutestgrotto for the banners and thank you @fizzintine for coloring the top pic!

have a good day/night/whatever!

[bucksangel]

run little bunny

pairing: softdark!ceo!bucky x naive!assistant!reader

word count: 8.6k

summary: Being John Walker’s assistant is hard; he’s mean, disrespectful, misogynistic, the whole nine yards. On top of that, he hardly pays you fairly. So, when you’re fired for a mistake you’re sure wasn’t your fault, you’re at risk of being kicked out by your rude roommates. Luckily for you, James Barnes, a wildly successful CEO, has found his way into your life. And he’s going to take such good care of you.

warnings: where do i even start, 18+, minors DNI and i fucking mean it, mild coercion, some of it could be interpreted as stalking, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, sir kink, oral (f receiving), housewife kink, breeding kink, pet names (bunny, darling), dirty talk, dom!bucky and sub!reader, choking, squirting, basically just absolute filth, a little hurt-comfort, reader’s roommates are awful and mean, not john walker friendly but when am i ever

a/n: so this was supposed to just be some quick smut but as always i went overboard, so please enjoy! likes and comments are appreciated, reblogs are even better!

tip jar | main masterlist | ao3 | run little bunny masterlist

Your hands are shaking slightly, your heartbeat races with anxiety, and your leg bounces rapidly. Today is an important day after all, and your boss has made it clear that if you mess up in any way then he’d have to rethink your employment. That sent dread flooding through your body, so you’ve been preparing yourself for the last week to make sure everything for the meeting is perfect.

And, on the technical side, everything is immaculate - mostly due to you staying up until almost midnight each night to polish the presentation. You thought everything was done properly, but when you’d walked into the building that morning your boss was holed up in his office finishing up his portion of the work, so you’d decided to simply email him to let him know that you had arrived.

Everything was perfect. But when you get into the meeting room, your boss’ eyes go wide, anger clouding them while he scowls. You quickly make your way to his side, only for him to bark out a command for you to grab water for his incoming guests. Placing your notebook on the table, you turn to scurry off to the side to grab the glasses, but you’re stopped when your boss grabs your arm harshly.

“Do you have a change of clothes?”

“Um… Um, I-“ Your boss raises an eyebrow, and you feel like you might throw up from the sudden anxiety. “No, sir.”

He scoffs, muttering under his breath something about looking “trashy,” before releasing you and allowing you to go to the minibar.

Your arm stings, no doubt sporting a red mark because of how harsh the grip was. You’re also confused because you thought the floral dress you’d chosen was pretty. Sure, it may not be high class, but your boss has never had a problem with it before, but you’re assuming that he’s on edge due to who he’s meeting with.

James Barnes; the most powerful and successful CEO in the entire country. You haven’t met him personally, but from what you hear you know that he’s not someone you want to upset. According to the hushed whispers around the office, he stands at a towering 6’6, tattoos cover his arms and hands, and if he frowns then you better move out of the way.

Would Mr. Barnes be upset with your attire?

You desperately hope not, because you need this job. While you can barely make your rent and utilities, you don’t have any other job lined up, and you’re way too scared to ask for a raise from a man who so clearly disrespects you. For right now, though, you’re stuck.

The oak doors open, and one of the office assistants steps off to the side while holding the door open for several men to walk in. You hear him before you see him. You’ve never heard his voice, but the commanding tone he uses when he addresses your boss lets you know that it must be him.

“Hello, Mr. Walker,” Mr. Barnes greets him, and you can hear your boss stand and greet him as well.

You’re trying your hardest to keep calm while you walk toward the table with a platter holding several glasses of water. You do your best to place them in front of the men without showing how nervous you are.

But when you get to Mr. Barnes, you nearly spill the drink all over the table once you get a whiff of his clearly expensive cologne. Oh, how you’d love to be surrounded by that scent, the woodsy smell almost intimidates you but you’re unsure as to why you don’t mind.

You’ve never done anything even remotely sexual with a man, you’re far too awkward and anxious in a way that isn’t too appealing to many, but for a very brief moment, you wonder what he looks like underneath the black three-piece suit — the prominent veins on his hands insinuates that the rest of his body is probably just as toned. But you’re immediately snapped out of your thoughts by your boss’ harsh voice calling your name.

“Aren’t you going to greet our guests?”

You breathe in sharply, heat flooding your face as you stumble your way through an apology and a polite “Hello, Mr. Barnes.”

You’re about to leave his side when he reaches out to grasp your hand — surprisingly gentle for such a powerful man. With a slight jump, you glance over to your boss who’s staring at you as though you’re becoming a nuisance and should quickly get back to your chair beside his. But you can’t, both because of Mr. Barnes’ hold and the fact that when you look back at the man in front of you his ocean-blue eyes pull you in, and you’re unable to break your gaze.

“And who might you be, darling?” His eyes twinkle with mischief but you’re too blind to see it, you’re too flustered to really focus.

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about her, she’s just –”

“I wasn’t asking you,” Mr. Barnes snaps, briefly glancing at your boss and not bothering to hide his smirk when he almost visibly cowers. “Now, darling,” he continues, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “What’s your name?”

You nearly squeak, having to force yourself to tell him your name before he gets upset with your lack of answer.

Mr. Barnes hums, then brings your hand up so he can place a delicate kiss on your knuckles. “A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

You flounder for a moment, unsure as to what to make of the compliment. You don’t have much time to overthink it because this meeting has a time limit and you’re sure your boss would prefer to get this over with.

“Th-Thank you, sir.” You’re not sure why, but your voice is breathy because something about that word — sir — just feels right for him, though you’re not sure what it means.

“So polite,” He mumbles to himself, and his eyes seem to grow darker. Finally, he lets you go, shooting you a wink and smirking to himself when you scurry off to sit next to your boss.

The presentation went relatively smoothly — thank God. You don’t know what you would have done if anything went wrong. In fact, Mr. Barnes seemed extremely invested in what you had to say, catching your gaze several times and causing you to stumble over your words a few times, only for your boss to clear his throat and glare at you. Eventually, Mr. Barnes throws him his own glare, silently telling him to shut up, to which your boss finally does.

Once the meeting was declared to be over, you were quick to close your notebook and tuck your pen behind your ear, then you went around the table and started collecting the now-empty glasses. As you’re running around the room trying to clean up, you can feel a powerful gaze boring holes into your body, but you try not to pay it any mind. It’s probably just your boss anyway.

But when you turn away from the desk to finally leave, you bump into Mr. Barnes, your body nearly slamming into his very sturdy chest. His hands shoot to your hips almost immediately, helping to steady yourself.

The warmth of his body pulls you in, but that might also be because Mr. Barnes is literally bringing you closer to his chest by the hold he has on your hips. And that’s when you realize that your hands are clutching his shoulders, but you can’t find it in you to let go.

“What’s the rush?” He asks playfully, his upper lip quirking up in a smirk. “You’re running around like a little bunny.”

“Oh, oh I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes.” You’re not sure why you’re apologizing, you recognize that he’s just teasing, but something in you doesn’t want to disappoint him. 

“Mr. Barnes.” He hums, his eyes briefly glancing down to your lips. “I like it when you call me that.”

Now you’re really flustered, your face heats up and you have to do everything in your power not to faint — the way his voice deepens is doing something to you and you don’t know how to handle it.

“I’d like it a lot more if you called me James, though. Can you do that for me, bunny?” 

“Ye-Yes, James.” You might have been embarrassed about how quick you were to answer him, but the way he closes his eyes and tightens the hold he has on your body you’re thinking it was the right decision.

Mr. Barnes — James — opens his mouth again, but is interrupted by the door being opened by one of the office assistants, whose eyes immediately go wide in shock. It seems to take a second for her to gather her bearings, but she recovers soon enough.

“Mr. Walker is requesting you,” She tells you, glancing over at James and giving him a nervous smile. “He says you have to file all of the paperwork for the meeting.”

You sigh, you’re tired of having to do everything for your boss only for him to take credit ninety percent of the time. But, it’s what you’re paid to do, so you suck it up. 

Looking back to James, you give him a shy smile, reluctantly removing your hands from his shoulders. 

“Um, I guess I should go, James.” You’re a little sad, and you don’t quite know why having to leave him and go back to your duties makes you so anxious. It could be because Mr. Walker is mean, or maybe because James makes you feel safe. In reality, it’s probably a mixture of both.

“I guess you should,” He murmurs, removing one of his large hands from your waist so he can cup the back of your neck and pull you closer, only for him to press a lingering kiss on your forehead.

And absolutely no one can blame you for the quiet whimper that leaves your lips, even though you are surprised by your reaction. It doesn’t matter though, because he finally moves back, letting go of you and reaching into the pocket on the inside of his suit jacket so he can pull out what looks like a business card.

“Here,” James says, handing it to you. “In case you ever want to talk, you’re always free to call me.”

“What would we talk about?” Your confusion causes James to chuckle, and he seems amused by your naivety.

“Whatever you want, Bunny. Whether you just want to talk about nonsense or vent about your boss. Doesn’t matter to me as long as I get to hear your beautiful voice.”

With that, he gives you a wink, then turns to the door and leaves, though he does glance back at you. With one final smile, he leaves, and you’re left with a million racing thoughts while standing in the middle of the meeting room.

It took three days for you to finally reach out to James. As soon as you got home that night you ran to your bedroom and added his number to your phone, going so far as to put his business card in your bedside table drawer so you wouldn’t lose it. It just took a little time to gain the courage to actually contact him. After all, what if he was just being friendly? You’ve never met anyone quite like him, so it’s hard to read into his actions.

But today had gone horribly. The café you frequent before work was so busy that you didn’t have time to grab your coffee without being extremely late, the bistro you were demanded to pick up lunch from was closed — and while it wasn’t your fault, Mr. Walker certainly seemed to think it was. Your workload was piled high and by the end of the day, you were on the verge of crying due to the stress and mean comments thrown at you by your boss.

You need a shoulder to lean on and, unfortunately for you, you don’t have anyone else to go to. You’re pretty sure your roommates hate you and only let you live with them because they haven’t found a new roommate yet, you don’t have siblings and your parents are states away, and you have maybe a few friends, but even then the communication is scarce.

You need a shoulder to lean on, and James offered his, so you finally decided to pull up his contact and start a new message. It takes several minutes to figure out what to say, but you eventually settle on something simple.

Hi, James. I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Mr. Walker’s assistant. You gave me your number in case I ever wanted to talk.

You hit send and stare down at your phone anxiously as you wait for a reply. A minute goes by, then two, suddenly five, and then you’re starting to regret texting him, what if he doesn’t remember you? What if he’s busy? What if – 

Your phone starts ringing, James’ name popping up on the screen and taunting you — almost commanding you to answer.

“Hello?”

“Good evening, bunny,” James says softly, and if you press your ear close enough to your phone you could pretend that he’s right next to you.

“Hi, James. I hope I’m not disturbing you.” Your voice is soft and timid, you’d hate to disrupt anything he’s doing.

“Don’t be silly, bunny,” He says, his smile evident in his tone. “I always have time for you.”

“Oh, um. Thank you, sir.” It’s almost indescribable, but you can just make out the soft curse James lets out, followed by some shuffling.

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

You’re a little apprehensive, but with James’ gentle encouragement, you’re able to get everything off your chest, complaining about your day and everything that went wrong. Each word spoken feels like weights lifting off of your shoulders, allowing you to breathe easier every time James hums. He doesn’t interrupt you, which you greatly appreciate, and by the time you’re done, you fall backward onto your bed, relieved.

“I’m sorry you had such a bad day, bunny,” James coos with his smooth-as-honey voice, filling your body with warmth and comfort. “A pretty girl like you doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.” That comment floods your face with heat and you shuffle up the bed to lean against the headboard.

“Oh, I - thank you, sir.” There it is again, sir. James exhales slowly as though he’s trying to control himself from doing something he shouldn’t, and part of you is momentarily worried that you’ve upset him somehow. You don’t want to disappoint him.

“What can I do to help?”

What can he do to help? You’re not quite sure, you’re not sad, and you’re not angry, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t need at least a hug right now. But, it would be too imposing to ask, right? There’s no way he would be willing to come over – that is, if your roommates would even allow him over. And he certainly wouldn’t invite a stranger into his house. So, you lie to him.

“Oh – Oh, no, James, I don’t – you don’t have to – it’s fine –”

“Bunny.”

Your mouth promptly closes, taking a deep breath through your nose and exhaling slowly.

“Sorry, James.”

“Don’t be sorry, bunny.” There’s some shuffling in the background as he talks and you can’t help but sigh at how sincere his voice is. “Now, what can I do to help?” And before you can even open your mouth he’s talking again, “Don’t say nothing, because I know there’s something you want.”

You’re silent for a moment, stewing over how to tell him. But, he’ll probably just be empathetic and say something along the lines of ‘I’d hug you if I were there right now’. So, you decide to just spit it out.

“I guess I just want… I just need a hug, I think,” You sigh, feeling a sudden sense of loneliness. It’s hard not having anyone to talk to, to be isolated even from the people you live with, to be put down time and time again, and not have anyone to support you.

“Where are you?” James asks, and you hear some more shuffling in the background, followed by the jingling of what sounds like keys.

“I’m at my apartment,” You say, confused. He couldn’t possibly be coming over, could he?

“Send me your address and I’ll come pick you up, we’ll go out for ice cream,” James says decisively, and you can tell he doesn’t want any protesting. “Bunny,” He says when you don’t say anything. “You need cheering up and I’m here to do just that. Please send me your address.” He speaks gently but once again, he doesn’t seem to want you to argue against it.

“O-Okay, I will.”

“Good, I’ll see you soon, bunny.” When you bid him goodbye, he hangs up, and you’re quick to send him your address, giving him instructions to text you when he arrives so you can meet him out front of the building.

During the next twenty or so minutes you’re practically running around your room trying to make yourself look presentable. You cried all of your makeup off so you opt to just wash the rest of it off, and then you pull your hair back and away from your face. It takes a bit to decide what to wear, after all this is just a friend taking another friend to get ice cream, but this is also James Barnes; he has more wealth than you could possibly imagine. You want to impress him and appear grateful for his friendliness, and looking at least half-decent would achieve that.

Finally, someone knocks on your door, yelling, “Someone’s here for you!”

With a rush of excitement, you grab your phone and wallet and slip on your shoes, then make your way out of your room to the front door where another roommate is standing in front of it, leaning against the frame and giggling at the person.

James.

He looks bored, almost like he’s trying to appear interested but can’t quite muster up the energy to do so. When you approach, he lifts his head, a wide smile crossing his face.

“There’s my little bunny,” He says confidently, completely ignoring your annoyed roommate. “Come on, let’s get you cheered up.”

With that you walk to him, timidly accepting his outstretched hand and letting him gently tug you into the hallway. When you turn around to tell your roommate that you’ll be back later you can’t even get a word out before you see her glaring at you and shutting the door — the click of the lock is audible through the empty hallway.

“Are they always like that?” James asks with a tone that conveys concern.

“Like what?” You know what he’s talking about, but you hate acknowledging it.

“Rude and disrespectful.” He is so blunt that it causes you to look down in embarrassment to avoid his intense gaze.

Yes, you want to say, they’re awful. You want to shout from the rooftops that your roommates are horrible to you, but you’re just too scared to do it.

“Oh – Oh, no, they’re just…” You trail off, peeking up at James to see the disbelief in his eyes. When you look down again, he brings up one of his hands to cup your cheek and guide your head up so you can look at him head-on.

“You don’t need to lie to me, bunny. I want you to trust me.” James sighs, leaning forward and placing a small kiss on your forehead. “Come on,” He squeezes your hand, smiling softly at you as he starts walking you out of the building and to his car.

It doesn’t take long to get to the ice cream shop, only a five-minute drive, and when you get there James keeps the car locked as he gets out so he can circle around to your side and open your door for you.

“Th-Thank you,” You say as you put your hand in James’ outstretched one, letting him guide you out of the car. He keeps his hold on your hand as you walk into the shop, going so far as to thread your fingers together while you wait in line.

The image of your hand encompassed by James’ large tattooed one has your tummy fluttering with butterflies. But, you must have been staring for a little too long because you’re broken out of your trance by James gently squeezing your hand.

“Is this okay, bunny?”

“Yes!” Heat floods your face as soon as you say it, feeling embarrassed by how quick you were to answer. “I, I mean. Um… Yes, it’s okay.”

James smirks at you, clearly enjoying how flustered you are. But, before you can stew in your shame, the man behind the counter says, “Next!”

You walk up to the counter, letting James order before giving yours. And when it’s time to pay, James doesn’t even drop your hand while he fishes his wallet out of his pocket and takes out his card. Your tummy flutters once again.

“Come, bunny.”

With your desserts now in hand, James leads you to a corner booth, only letting go of your hand so you can scoot in. He sits across from you, looking at you with what can only be described as thinly veiled hunger. It’s not off-putting, you just don’t know what it means.

“So, um…” You trail off looking down at your bowl of ice cream, fiddling with the spoon they gave you.

“You don’t need to be nervous, bunny,” James coos, reaching over and placing his hand palm up on the table, and you’re helpless but to take it, practically aching to feel his warmth again. “Now, other than everything that happened today, how have you been?”

It’s surprisingly easy to fall into a pleasant conversation with him, he asks questions and lets you finish talking before adding his own input, and he doesn’t break eye contact. It feels like he’s really listening to what you’re saying, and it’s almost freeing to have someone in your corner, someone you can trust and depend on.

What feels like far too soon, though has probably been several hours due to how dark it is outside, the man behind the counter comes to your table to tell you that they’re closing soon, and you can’t help but be sad. You’re enjoying James’ company far more than you probably should since you’ve only known him for a handful of days. It almost seems like you’ve known him your whole life.

“Well, bunny. I guess it’s time to go,” James says remorsefully, getting up out of the booth and reaching out his hand to help you out of the booth as well. He keeps holding your hand while you walk out of the door — making sure to throw away your trash on the way out.

James insists on opening the car door for you again — ever the gentleman. There’s a comfortable silence on the drive back to your apartment, your stomach swirling the entire time because James refuses to drop your hand. But when you get to your apartment building, a small amount of anxiety settles inside you, and you’re desperately hoping your roommates are asleep because you don’t feel like dealing with them after you’ve had such a good evening.

The silence is a little more tense while you ride the elevator up to your floor, but you’re grounded by James’ touch. It’s not until you get to your front door that you really look at him, staring into his twinkling eyes. And when he smiles, it settles your nerves.

“I guess this is the end of our night, bunny,” He says, squeezing your hand one last time before dropping it. Before you can mourn the loss of his touch he’s wrapping you in his arms and pulling you close to his chest, and you desperately hope he doesn’t hear the squeak you let out. You wrap your arms around his waist, letting James tuck your face into his neck while he holds you close.

“I had a wonderful time tonight,” James murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead.

“Me too,” You say softly, breathing in and inhaling his comforting scent. “Thank you for cheering me up.”

“Of course, bunny. I’m always here for you.” Then, James pulls his head back so he can look into your eyes. “Always.”

You can’t help but smile. His gaze is hypnotizing, pulling you in and almost refusing to let you go.

“Thank you, James,” You breathe out, and one last time, James squeezes you and kisses your forehead, then steps back.

“I’ll talk to you soon, bunny?” James asks, smiling wide.

“Y–Yeah, I’ll text you. Or you can text me. Or call, that’s–that’s fine too.” Heat floods your face in embarrassment, but you don’t feel too bad about it because James only smiles wider, nodding once.

“I will.”

“Goodnight, James.” With that, you turn and unlock your door, turning around to look at James one last time as you shut the door.

“Goodnight bunny, I hope you have dreams as sweet as you are.” James winks, and you swear you can hear him chuckle when you squeak out an “o-okay,” and shut the door.

And maybe James is some kind of wizard because you have the best night of sleep you’ve had in a while.

For the next few weeks you and James text almost every day, and talk on the phone every couple of days. You’ve met up with him a few times as well, accepting his invitations to lunch or coffee. Each outing would last for several hours, too enraptured by his… everything to be the one to suggest the night should end. You’ve come to trust him, you know with a possibly concerning amount of certainty that James would do everything possible to keep you happy and safe.

Roughly a month and a half after meeting James, you’re sitting on your bed in the same position you were in when you first called him crying. Unlike last time, though, you don’t hesitate to call him. He’s told you time and time again that it doesn’t even matter if he’s in a meeting, he’ll always make time for you. You just hope that’s true.

He picks up almost immediately.

“Hello, bunny,” James says with the same soft tone he always uses when talking to you.

“H-hi, James,” You manage to say, before breaking out into sobs. You’re nearly hyperventilating, trying and failing to catch your breath between hiccups, and it takes a few minutes to calm down enough to hear rustling in the background on James’ end.

“Are you at home?” He asks with the utmost concern.

“Ye-Yes.”

“Stay there,” He says, using what you’ve deemed his CEO voice. “I’m coming to get you.”

“Ja–”

“Bunny.”

You sigh, knowing you can’t change his mind – not that you really want him to. You could really benefit from a hug right about now and James always provides the best ones.

“Can you at least stay on the phone with me?” Your voice is small, still sniffling every few words. You don’t think you could handle being alone with your own thoughts right now.

“Of course. You know I’ll do anything for you.”

It takes James twenty minutes to get to you, and he talks to you the whole time, just menial things to get your mind off of your sadness. When he lets you know that he’s at your apartment, you don’t even wait for him to tell you he’s coming up, you simply grab your jacket and slip on your shoes, then run to the front door without so much as a word to your roommates in the living room.

“James!” Upon seeing the man himself standing next to his car, you fling yourself into his arms, taking deep breaths to prevent yourself from crying in public. “Thank you for coming.”

“Bunny, how many times do I have to tell you that I’ll do whatever it takes to keep a smile on your pretty face?” James’ tone is teasing, but you know he’s serious if his stern and concerned gaze is anything to go by.

You nod, blinking back tears. It’s so nice to have a friend like James Barnes; kind, chivalrous, attentive. With the way he acts sometimes, you’d almost think he’s interested in more than friendship, but you always shake that thought off. He’s too handsome and wealthy to date some random personal assistant who’s barely able to make her rent.

“Come on, bunny,” James moves back but keeps an arm wrapped around your waist, leading you to his car and helping you in. Like always, he waits for you to sit so he can strap you in your seatbelt, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before shutting the door then running around to the driver's seat.

This time, instead of taking a left at the light at the end of your block, he keeps going forward, taking turns until you’re not exactly sure where you are.

“Um, where are we going?”

“My house,” James says casually, briefly glancing at you so he can give you that ever-soft smile.

“But, isn’t your house only twenty minutes away?” You’re confused, and a little curious as to what he’s talking about.

“I only stay there when I have meetings in the city. I have a house a little further out where I live most of the time. It’s a little more lived-in, so I want to bring you there where you’ll feel a little more…” James pauses for a moment, glancing at you again. “At home.” His explanation makes sense in your brain, quickly squashing any nerves that you had. He’s rich, so of course he’d have multiple houses.

It’s almost an hour long drive to get to his house. Well, house feels like an inappropriate term for what it actually is. It’s more like a mansion, standing tall at three stories, a long driveway with trees lining either side of the road, and a luscious garden surrounding the property.

James helps you out of the car and guides you up the steps to the front door, where he unlocks it and lets you step inside. The moment you pass through the threshold your jaw nearly drops to the floor; a large chandelier hangs from the ceiling right when you step in and beautiful artwork adorns the walls. The open floor plan gives you a good view of the living room and kitchen from your vantage point, and you can’t wait to sink into the luxurious and almost comically large couch in front of the TV.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” James urges you further in, bringing you to the living room.

“Um, just water is fine.” You look up at him, smiling shyly and nearly tripping when he smiles back.

“I’ll be right back,” James says, watching as you sit and sink into the plush couch. “Make yourself at home.” The look in his eyes when he says it sparks something inside you, something warm and fuzzy. Thinking of James’ house as your home makes your tummy flutter, but you don’t understand why.

God, you need to get it together.

You’re left alone for a moment, and everything is quiet except for the fridge opening and the glasses clinking. James’ absence allows you a moment to breathe properly, being with him always leaves you flustered, though you can’t deny that some part of you likes it. You like his commanding nature, how deep his voice gets when he talks passionately about something, how warm his embrace is when he holds you for what might be a little too long, squeezing you like he doesn’t want to let you go.

“Here you go, bunny.” Suddenly, a glass of water appears in front of you, and you take it with a gracious smile and a small “thank you.”

“So,” He says, sitting next to you — really close — and throwing his arm over your shoulders, practically pulling you into his lap. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

Tears immediately spring to your eyes, suddenly remembering how horrible today was. You force yourself to take a couple of sips of your glass but your hand starts shaking enough to where James takes your glass and sets it on the coffee table in front of you.

“Bunny—“

His soft voice causes you to start crying, throwing yourself into his chest and burying your face in his neck as you sob out your troubles. James’ hand is warm on your back, rubbing it soothingly and squeezing you close to him. This time, he actually pulls you in his lap, you’re grasping the front of his sweater while he maneuvers your body so you’re straddling his thighs, and you can’t help but scoot closer so you’re sitting on him properly with your body flush against his.

A few minutes of crying later and your tears have finally slowed, your sobs deforming into hiccups until you calm down enough to hear James cooing into your ear, whispering sweet nothings. When you finally catch your breath, you pull back, staring up at James with wide eyes and a pout.

“I-I… I was fired! Fired! And I don’t know what I’m going to do! Mr. Walker just tossed me to the side because a document went missing and he blamed me, and now I’m jobless and my roommates are definitely going to kick me out because I can barely make my rent as it is. What am I going to do?”

James sighs, rubbing one hand up and down your back and keeping his other on your waist, though they manage to sneak up your shirt a little without your notice.

“I’m sorry, bunny,” He starts, giving you a comforting smile. “It’s awful that happened to you, and it’s not your fault, so don’t go blaming yourself like I know you want to.”

Your face goes warm with embarrassment. How is he able to read you so easily?

“And as far as your living situation, you’ll move in with me.”

“James!” Your eyebrows furrow, your head automatically shaking. “No, no I can’t do that to you. I don’t have a job anymore and I definitely can’t afford to pay you rent, I-I can’t burden you like that.” Even though it hurts to say it, you want to be honest with him. Because how on Earth are you supposed to pay him back for this?

“You’re not a burden.” You’re surprised by his angry tone, and his eyes darken as though he’s challenging you to say otherwise. “You’ll never be a burden on me, bunny. I’m offering you this, I don’t want you to pay me.”

As though he can sense your hesitation, he gives you a playful smirk.

“But if you really want to help, how about you do the cooking and cleaning? I don’t always get a good home-cooked meal, and it’d be nice to come back from work to see you in a cute little apron.”

This makes you giggle, a weight lifting off your shoulders when you nod timidly. “I-I can do that. I’ll do anything.”

And while you had pure intentions with that statement, James takes it differently, his eyes darkening even further as he nibbles at his bottom lip.

“Anything?” He smirks wider when you nod eagerly because that’s what you are. Always eager to please — especially please James.

“Yes, anything!”

James hums, seemingly thinking something over, before sliding one of his hands up the back of your shirt.

“How about you give me a kiss? I haven’t had a good one in a while,” While he sounds like he’s teasing, his face shows he’s anything but.

He really wants you to kiss him. And, well, it’s not like you’re going to deny him, you’re too grateful for his generosity. Plus, you’d be insane to pass up such an opportunity, he’s handsome, kind, and makes you feel safe. So, with only a little hesitation, you lean down and press your lips against his in a simple peck, but before you can pull away James groans, placing one hand on the back of your head to keep you steady.

His lips practically attack yours, his tongue invading your mouth and taking what it wants – you. You don’t even know it but you’re whimpering almost immediately, opening your mouth and letting James consume you whole. He’s smiling against your lips, biting your bottom lip as he retreats for a moment so he can stare up into your eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, bunny,” James whispers reverently like he’s hypnotized. And he’s not the only one. Your brain is quickly going silent, your sole focus is on James and how good he’s making you feel.

“Really?”

“So beautiful, I’ve always thought so.” His confession makes you whine, he thinks you’re beautiful, this gorgeous man with the deepest blue eyes you’ve ever seen. Suddenly, James curses softly, grabbing your waist under your shirt, and that’s when you realize you’ve started subconsciously moving your hips against his.

“S-Sorry,” You mumble, though you’re not too sorry considering you can’t stop rolling down onto his lap, it feels too good.

“Don’t be.” James hums thoughtfully, leaning forward slightly and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Why don’t we go to my room? It’ll be more comfortable.”

You don’t even wait for him to finish before you start eagerly nodding your head, adjusting your legs as he stands so you can wrap them around his waist. He carries you to his room, smirking to himself the entire time because you can’t stop kissing and biting his neck in the hopes of leaving a mark, staking your claim. When you finally get there, James quickly shuts the door behind him and then drops you down onto the bed.

“Sir,” You whine when he doesn’t do anything, he’s only standing at the end of the bed, staring at you with eyes so dark with lust that you can’t see the blue of them.

“Don’t worry, bunny, I’ll take good care of you.” With that, he swiftly strips his shirt off and tosses it to the side, then undoes the button on his pants, slowly dragging down the zipper with a wide smirk at the haze in your eyes. “Do you want to help me?”

It takes a few moments for you to understand what he’s asking of you, but once you do you push yourself up, shuffling over to him until you’re sitting with your legs underneath your butt. For a moment you’re not sure what to do, you reach out for his pants but freeze mid-air because you just now realize that you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing. You’ve never been in this situation before, your sexual exploits consist of goodnight kisses on the few dates you’ve been on, and your vibrator in your nightstand that has been working overtime ever since you met James.

“I-I’m sorry,” You murmur, embarrassment flooding your features.

“Why are you sorry, bunny?” James’ voice is soft, soothing your worries.

“I… I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never… been with a man before.” Your hands fall to your lap at the same time you hang your head. What if you disappoint him? You don’t know what you’re doing and you’d hate to mess anything up.

“I know, bunny. It’s okay.” James lifts your chin with his fore and middle fingers, guiding you to look at him again. “I’ll teach you everything.” His voice dips lower, his bottom lip getting trapped between his teeth when you smile, relieved.

“Now, I’m going to take off my pants, but I want you to take off my boxers. Okay?”

“Yes, sir,” You say quickly, eyes dropping to his crotch as he begins pulling the denim down, down, down until it pools on the floor. He steps out of them, then steps in front of you with his arms hanging by his side. When he raises his eyebrow, nodding to his underwear, you reach out for him again, this time with only a small amount of hesitation. Your nerves are nearly off the charts, but knowing that James is going to guide you makes you feel better.

Your hands are shaking slightly when you pull them down, and absolutely no one can fault you for the loud gasp you let out when he’s finally bare because holy shit. Despite being relatively anxious and naive surrounding sex, you’ve watched your fair share of porn, and while the men in them did usually have big dicks, they seem small compared to James’.

You’re almost frightened, how the hell is that going to fit inside you? James chuckles, and you realize you probably said that aloud.

“Don’t worry, bunny. I’ll make it fit,” James groans, reaching down to grab the bottom of your shirt. “I’m going to take this off now, okay?” He tugs it up and over your head once you give your consent, tossing it to the side and cursing when he sees the light pink bra barely covering your breasts. James is biting his lip so hard you’re worried he might draw blood, but you don’t pay it any mind because he’s soon urging you to lay on your back with your legs dangling over the edge.

“Gonna take these off too.”

Giving him a shy smile and a nod, he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweatpants, glancing up at you one final time to make sure you’re okay before he surprises you by pulling them off of your legs in one swift movement. You’re tugged down the bed a little, a shocked gasp leaving your lips.

“Fucking angelic,” James murmurs, dropping to his knees and placing his large, rough hands on your knees. He smirks when he sees your matching light pink panties, already soaking wet at the crotch. You have to bite your lip to keep from whimpering when he pushes your legs wide apart, but you can’t stop yourself from squirming when he doesn’t do anything else.

“James,” You whine, high-pitched and needy.

“Sir,” He reminds you with a raised eyebrow as though he’s daring you to say his real name again. And just for good measure, he surprises you by lifting up one of his hands and swinging it down onto your clothed pussy in a harsh swat, causing you to let out a loud moan.

“Sir! I-I’m sorry, sir.”

“It’s okay, little bunny,” James coos as he runs his hands up the back of your thighs so he can push them up and out, letting him get a good look at where you need him most. “Are you going to let me eat your pretty pussy?”

Even though it’s phrased as a question, you know James isn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer. It’s not like you even want to tell him ‘no’, you’re too desperate for something, anything.

“Y-Yes, sir. Please.” Your begging makes him groan, and he quickly dips forward so he’s not even an inch away from your core, inhaling deeply and cursing again.

With a quick kiss to your covered clit, he twists his fingers into the band of your panties and rips them into pieces, and you know you’ll have marks from it. But you want them, you want evidence of this night, and you’ll gladly take anything he gives you. And no sooner than your panties off do James dive in, inhaling once more before his tongue sneaks out and licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit.

It’s at that point that you know you’re well and truly fucked, because there’s no way you’re not going to become addicted to the feeling of his tongue dipping into your quivering hole, the way he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks it into his mouth, the way he groans into your pussy like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

And it doesn’t take long for your legs to start shaking, desperately trying to close around James’ head but not being able to due to his hands gripping your thighs and holding them still. The filthy groans he lets out are enough to make you cum alone, but then he attaches his lips to your clit again and gently bites down, forcing an obscene moan out of your mouth.

He lets you get used to the pleasure, switching between fucking his tongue deep inside you and flicking at your clit, and only when he decides you’re ready does he manage to slide his forefinger in your pussy all the way to the third knuckle.

“Sir!” You can’t help but yell. Yes, it stings, but it’s far outweighed by the pleasure of his tongue assaulting your pulsating nub.

He wastes no time in slowly sliding it in and out, wiggling it around until you whine loudly, letting him know he’s found that special spot. You’re too out of it to realize it but James is smiling, clearly smug at how he’s making you react. You wouldn’t care anyway, in fact, he deserves it. He’s making you feel too good, especially when he slips in his middle finger and spreads them.

“Oh god! Yes, fuck. Sir, yes,” You’re incoherent, blabbering nonsense because your brain is too foggy to form a coherent thought. James picks up the pace, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking it as he thrusts his fingers directly at your g-spot.

“Sir! Sir, I-I’m…” As soon as he started, he stopped, pulling out his fingers and leaning back slightly with a wide grin. His chin is coated in your juices, and the gleam in his eyes shows you that you’re not going to be able to cum so easily.

“Not yet, bunny,” James says when you whine pathetically, trying to buck your hips up into his mouth but unable to do so because of his commanding grip now holding your waist. “I’m not letting you cum until I’m inside you.”

James then climbs onto the bed, guiding you upwards to lay your head against the plush pillows so he can lean over your body. With little preamble, he snakes his arms around your back to quickly unclasp your bra and allow your breasts to spill free.

“I can’t wait to watch these bounce,” James groans, palming one of them, twisting and pinching at your nipple. James just laughs when you hiss, because your soaked pussy is enough to tell him that you’re loving what he’s doing. 

“Bunny.” He says gruffly, and your eyes shoot up to meet his, though you can hardly see him because your vision is hazy, nothing matters except James. “Are you ready?”

You’re barely able to mumble ‘yes’, but you manage to do so, and James takes that as his cue to grasp the base of his cock and position it at your entrance. He places his other hand on your neck, lightly squeezing the sides to keep your eyes locked on his.

The pressure against your hole is immense, James telling you to breathe as he slowly pushes deeper. He stops about halfway through, giving you a moment for the pain to fade. He’s clearly having a hard time staying still but is cognizant enough to know you’re overwhelmed. It takes a few minutes of deep breathing before you finally nod, silently letting him know that he can move. And he does, pushing in all the way until his hips are flush with yours. Once again, he stills, leaning down to brush his lips over your cheeks and catch the tears spilling from the corners of your eyes.

“H-Hurts, sir,” You whimper out, forcing yourself to keep eye contact with him. And while your core is burning, James looks so damn proud that you’re taking him that it pushes away any discomfort.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” Even though you’re in mild pain you’re pretty sure you’ll cry if he pulls out, you need everything he can give you. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Don’t worry, bunny,” James coos, then tightens his grip around your neck ever so slightly. “I’ll give you what you need.” And as though a switch was flipped, James pulls back, pausing for half a second before thrusting forward.

“Ahhh!” Your mouth drops open as you scream, your arms coming up to claw at James’ shoulders and back as he gives you all he has.

And he has a lot to give. He puts his back into fucking you, keeping one hand around your neck and using his other arm to pull your left leg over his shoulder. Sweat beads at your hairline, your eyes stinging with tears, your whole body lit on fire. At this moment, nothing matters except the delicious burn between your legs, the way your body is shoved further up the bed with each of James’ powerful thrusts until it gets to the point where he has to place the hand around your leg on the headboard to steady you.

“Fuck, bunny, you feel so good. You’re so good for me.” James can’t stop mumbling praises, and even though you can’t really hear them, you feel them. Your eyes don’t move from his, even as he glances down to where your bodies are joined. “Fuck, little bunny. Your pussy looks so good stuffed full of my cock, knew you’d take me so well.”

“S-Sir,” You whimper, bucking your hips up to meet his thrusts and digging your nails into his skin. But James doesn’t seem to mind if the way his whole body shudders and his hips slightly lose their rhythm is anything to go by.

“Are you gonna be a good little bunny and cum for me?” James moves his gaze back up to your face, chuckling when he sees how fucked-out you already are. Despite his hand still around your neck you manage to nod, little cries and whines escaping into the air every time James’ cock gets shoved against your cervix.

“Yeah, you are,” James continues, leaning over your body even more and shifting so the tip of his dick hits your spot with every thrust. “You’re going to squirt all over my cock so I can cum deep in your cunt. Gonna cum in you every day, keep you full of me, maybe even plug you up to make sure it sticks.”

You’re right there, your pleasure climbing higher and higher until you’re ready to fall off the edge. James’s next sentence sends you there.

“Fuck, bunny. You’re going to be the perfect little mommy to all the children I’m gonna give you.”

When you wake up, James will tell you about how you came so hard that you blacked out, squirting and gushing around his cock while he continued telling you how even more beautiful you’ll be when you’re pregnant, taking care of him and his home, how he knew you were the one for him from the moment he first saw you. Your things will already be moved into his house. New clothes chosen specifically for you will be hung up in his closet and the bathroom will be adjusted to fit your products. The kitchen is going to be filled with all the food you like. And your cat will be curled up in a miniature hammock in her very own room.

When you wake up, you’ll see how much thought James put into redecorating his home just for you.

And you’ll be too grateful for his kindness to question where he put your birth control.

main taglist: @lilyalone / @crazyunsexycool / @goldylions / @yeehawbrothers / @buckyssweetheart / @buckysprettybaby / @sushiseoks / @heytheredelulu / @somnorvos / @ozwriterchick / @pxgeturner / @gentlelimerence

bucky taglist: @justsebstan / @myfavbuckyfics

[soon-palestine]

hat day was December 19, 2023 when Israeli ground troops entered the Anan family’s apartment building in Gaza City. According to survivors, by the end of the day, at least 11 civilians had been killed.

When he recovered, Yahya said, “I don’t think there is a human being who could forget anything like this.”

Working with journalists in Gaza, Al Jazeera English investigated a number of Israeli military attacks as part of The Night Won’t End, a documentary we reported and produced for the show Fault Lines and which was released last Friday. While we reported on incidents ranging from a massive air strike to attacks on safe zones to the killing of 6-year-old Hind Rajab, we also sought to focus on an issue that has received more limited media coverage: allegations of arbitrary executions of civilians by Israeli ground forces.

This is the story of one of those alleged incidents. We verified the details of the attack using the testimony of six survivors, satellite imagery, phone messages, and video footage.

By December of last year, Israeli ground troops had a solid hold of north Gaza. Attacks and sieges on hospitals like Kamal Adwan and Al Awda were in full force. Air strikes had already decimated significant portions of the north and were continuing in tandem with ground attacks.

Some of the dozens of people sheltering in the Anan apartment building told Fault Lines that in the days leading up to December 19, Israeli ground troops laid siege to the building, shelling it and trapping people inside.

One resident who spoke to our team and wanted to remain anonymous out of fear for her safety said that the ground troops had to know that there were no armed fighters in the building because no one fought back at any point. “If there was anything that frightened or harmed them, or anyone resisting or fighting them, it would have been obvious in those five days,” the survivor said. “They knew this house had civilians inside.”

The Salem family was also sheltering in the building. They had already been displaced twice during the war. Just a week prior, they had survived a massive air strike that killed over 100 members of their extended family.

“We took refuge there to be safe,” Hiba Salem told our team with a heavy sigh. And then she laughed, as though the idea of safety was ridiculous.

“The tanks and bulldozers trapped us at the door of the house,” she said. “For an entire week, shells were landing on our building. We were trapped and they shot at us from the quadcopter 24 hours a day. We were living under very difficult circumstances. We had no water. Life was impossible for us.”

Satellite imagery from Planet Labs from the morning of December 19 shows Israeli tanks about one block from the Anan apartment building. A few hours later, survivors testified that soldiers entered the building.

“They came from that door—they blew up the door and went in—we were shocked,” said Ahmed Anan, Yahya’s father. “We just sat and we thought, what do they want from us? The soldiers were in front of us. They told us to raise our hands up, we raised our hands up. ‘Take off your clothes’—we took off our clothes.” He was downstairs with his daughter and young grandson. Eventually, he said, they forced all of them to leave the building while the rest of the family remained inside.

“I knew my kids and the rest of my family were upstairs,” he said. “What were they going to do to them?”

Yahya was upstairs with most of his family. He said that as soon as soldiers entered their apartment, he and the others shouted that they were civilians, over and over. “They came in firing randomly,” he said, walking through the remnants of the apartment. As he talked, he pointed to some of the bloodstains.

“The first one killed [was] Abu Hamdi Al-Ghalayini, my sister’s husband. This is his abaya and here is blood. They shot a bullet in his head and the other one in his heart.”

Yahya said he heard the soldiers speaking Hebrew as well as English. “But there were no questions. No ‘What’s your name?’ or ‘What’s your ID number?’ Nothing.”

Hiba Salem was sheltering in a different apartment in the building when soldiers came in. She was with her husband Ayman and their eight children, including their oldest son, Oday.

“They went to each apartment,” Oday said, “shooting and firing shells so they could search and see who was inside. Of course, it was all civilians here.”

According to Hiba, the soldiers who came into their apartment asked if there were any fighters. “We told them we have no resistance fighters. We are all civilians. I have children. They took my son, a young man, to the kitchen and hit him in his stomach and head.” Ayman was beaten and thrown down the stairs, according to both Hiba and Oday. “They broke my husband’s jaw. They broke this part of his face,” Hiba said, gesturing to the side of her own face. “He began bleeding. They tortured him by beating his arms with their rifles until they bled.”

After this, survivors said that they were grouped with other residents of the building, and the women and men were separated from each other. “They hit our heads with a big baton, and they fired their weapons right over our heads which made our ears ring and hurt so much,” Hiba recalled. “They took us women, three at a time, to an interior room. They stripped us of our clothes and searched us, while mocking and laughing at us, using dirty words.”

The women had been separated from the men, but both Hiba and another woman who was there said that they could see the men from where they were. “They put us in a room and the men were in front of us,” the other woman, who wished to remain anonymous, said. According to the survivors, the men were stripped to their underwear and then forced to kneel on the ground.

“I was right there,” Yahya said, gesturing to a spot in the apartment corridor. “I don’t know if these marks are from the shots that were aimed at me or not. I was lying face down on the ground.” As he looked around, he gestured to where his uncle and cousin were in front of him and to the spot in front of him where his brother Amin was.

It was after this that survivors said that the soldiers then began shooting at all the men.

“They started to carry out executions in front of our eyes,” Hiba recalled. “They didn’t spare anyone. They created a bloodbath, I swear to God.”

At least 11 men were killed, including Hiba’s husband, Ayman. The rest of the men were from the Anan family and their in-laws from the Ghalayini and Al-Ashi families. Yahya Anan and Oday Salem were also shot, but they survived.

“I was hit here with two bullets,” Yahya said, pointing to his arm. “I lost consciousness. Between one moment and the next, I was near death.”

After this, soldiers left the building but remained outside. The women were still together, including Hiba and her three daughters. Then a few minutes later, survivors said that soldiers began firing on the building from the outside.

Rula Salem, Hiba’s oldest daughter, said that she was huddled in a corner, holding her 4-year-old sister Nada in her lap. “The shelling stopped when the quadcopter began shooting,” Rula, who is 19, said. She continued holding onto Nada through the attack. Her sister was crying and asking for water. “I told her, ‘Wait honey. When it’s finished, I will get you water.’ I didn’t know that at that point her soul was leaving.” It was after the attack stopped that she realized her sister had been killed.

According to Hiba and Rula, Nada was killed by shrapnel during the attack. “Shrapnel came in her eyes while they were open,” Hiba said. “My daughter was killed while she was looking.”

After the soldiers left, the survivors tried to get help. One of Yahya’s sisters who survived the attack messaged a group chat that included relatives, telling them what happened. Fault Lines reviewed text messages she sent at around 10:15 pm local time. In the messages, she says that her family “were all martyred. And we are now trapped in the house with injuries.”

One of the people who received those messages was Shadi Anan, Yahya’s brother who lives in Algeria. He struggled to process the news that so many of his relatives had been killed. “I heard the news, but my brain started working after 15 minutes,” he recalled of hearing what had happened from his sister. “They executed her husband and three kids in front of her.”

After learning what happened, Shadi began trying to find a way to get help for his family. He sent voice notes to others in Gaza, trying to find a way to reach the Palestine Red Crescent Society or anyone in the area that could help, but no one was able to. In one of the voice notes, his voice is audibly distraught as he asks for anyone to go to them. “The area was besieged, and extremely dangerous. But we tried to send an appeal because of the injured, so we could try to save some of them.”

During this time, Yahya finally woke up. “It wasn’t until after I woke up from the sounds of the shelling at the building, that I realized I’m lying down between the martyred,” he said.

Looking around the scene during his interview, he wondered if the blood still visible was from his uncle or his brother or both. After he woke up, Yahya also realized that he had been shot in the arm. “I got up with extreme difficulty and crawled to the women. So they checked me, I am not sure who checked me because it was dark. She wrapped a scarf around my arm, so the bleeding stopped.”

He tried to walk, but it was too difficult to go far in the building. “I slipped three times on the martyrs, from the blood.”

The survivors stayed in the building into the next day, trying to determine if it was safe to leave. “I carried my little sister on my shoulders,” Oday said, recalling when they decided they could evacuate the building. “I helped my other sister to lean on me. And my mom was injured on her face.”

Yahya was still in the building after the others left, unable to leave due to his injury and blood loss. But eventually civilians entered the building, he said. The men who entered the building took a video as they walked through. Fault Lines reviewed the video, which shows the bodies of several undressed men. Nada Salem’s body is also seen briefly. As the men walk through the apartments, navigating through bodies and pools of blood, eventually they come to a room where Yahya can be seen lying on a bed. “They pulled me on the bedsheet and they took me out of the building.”

After this, he was taken to Al-Shifa hospital, where the other survivors had arrived as well. An Al Jazeera news crew was there and filmed the survivors as they recounted what had taken place the day before.

Yahya can be seen lying down as he speaks to the camera. “The first person they struck was my sister’s husband, Abu Hamdi,” he said in the news report.” They shot him as he was saying, ‘Civilians.’”

Hiba was filmed as well. Her face is visibly injured as medical staff treat her and her children. “There’s a bullet in my hand. There’s a bullet in my daughter’s head,” she said in the video. “My son can’t see. My young daughter was killed, and my husband, they executed him.” In a video taken shortly before her husband Ayman was buried, the injuries on his face from the attack are visible.

The Israeli Defense Forces did not respond to a request for comment on the allegations of the attack.

“My husband made me feel safe. I spent my whole life with him, in all its details, all its meaning,” Hiba told our crew in Gaza. Like all the families we spoke with for our documentary, those that survived this attack remain haunted by what they experienced, and what was taken from them: beloved family and friends, homes full of memories, and dreams for their children’s future and what might have been.

“I couldn’t wait for her to grow up,” Hiba said of her daughter Nada. “Her one wish, she’d tell me, was to get her a backpack and take her to school. She would always say that to me. Whenever I think of them, my heart shatters.”

As Yahya walked through the apartment building, the deep and lingering impact of the attack was visible in his eyes. “They have all the weapons and you’re a defenseless civilian. You have nothing and have done nothing. And in a moment most of your family is executed.” His brother Amin was one of the 11 men who were killed. “I want time to go back in time,” he said, looking around the ruins of his family’s former home where so many of his loved ones were killed.

“I didn’t imagine that one day, that in one moment, they would destroy everything.”

[deoidesign]

How I save time on backgrounds as a full-time webcomic artist

Hi! I make webcomics for a living, and I have to be able to draw a panel extremely fast to keep up with my deadlines. I draw about 50 panels a week, which gives me about 45 minutes per panel if I want any semblance of a healthy work-life balance.

Most webtoon artists save time on backgrounds by using 3d models, which works for them and is great! but personally I hate working in 3d... I went to school for it for a year and hated it so much I completely changed career paths and vowed never to do it again! So, this is how I save time without using any 3d, for those of you out there who don't like it either!

This tactic has also saved me money (3d models are expensive) and it has helped me converting my comic from scroll format into page format for print, because I have much more art to work with than what's actually in the panels. (I'll touch on this later)

So, first, I make my backgrounds huge. my default starting size is 10,000 x 10,000 pixels. My panels are 2,500 pixels wide, so my backgrounds are 4x that, minimum. Because of this, I make them less detailed than I could or that you might expect so it doesn't look weird against my character art when I shrink portions of it down.

I personally find it much easier to add in detail than to make "removing" details look natural at smaller sizes, but you might have different preferences than I do.

I also make sure to keep all of my elements on separate layers so that I can easily remove or replace them, I can move them to simulate different camera angles more easily, and it's simple to adjust the lighting to imply different times of day.

Then I can go ahead and copy/paste them into my episodes. I move the background around until it feels like it's properly fitting how I want.

Once I've done that in every panel, I'll go back through the episode and clean up anything that looks weird, and add in solid blacks (for my art style) Here's a quick before and after of what that looks like!

This makes 90% of my backgrounds take me just a few hours. This is my tactic when I'm working in an environment that an entire scene, or multiple scenes, will take place.

But many panels will inevitably have a location that's used exactly once, and it would waste time and effort to draw a massive background for those. So in 10% of cases, I just draw the single panel background in the episode. I save all of these, just in case I can re-use it later (this happens more often with outdoor locations, but I save them all nonetheless!)

I generally have to draw about 2 big backgrounds per episode, and 3-5 single-panel backgrounds per episode! At the beginning of an arc/book the number is higher, but as the series is continuing and I'm building up an asset library of indoor and outdoor elements to re-use for the book, the number generally goes down and I save more time.

My series involves time travel and mysteries, so there's a lot of new locations in it and we're constantly moving around. If I were working on a series that was more consistent in this aspect, this process would save me even more time!

Like I said earlier, this also saves me a lot of pain and gives me a lot more options as I'm converting from scroll format to print format!

panels that look like this in scroll format...

can look like this in print!

because I drew the background like this, so I didn't need to go through the additional effort to add in the extra detail to expand it outwards at all.

Anyways, I hope this helps someone! As always if it doesn't help, just go ahead and disregard. This is what I do and what works for me, and I feel like I only ever see time-saving tips for comics that involve 3d models and workflows, which don't work for me at all! I know there's more people like me out there, so this is for you!

Enjoy!

Also obligatory "my webcomic" if you want to see this in action or check it out!

[mournings-stars]

could i have anything with a married vox x reader pleasee? i'm so obsessed with this television it isn't even funny 😭

okay im FINALLY publishing this — in my defense i wrote like five vox x wife!readers after getting this and couldn't decide which to publish to this ask but now yall are getting over protective husband vox cus i love him and now i wanna make an actual fic also i originally read this request as wife!reader so i made reader fem but I'm just now realizing it's married i hope that's okay!!

warning: vox is a little crazy and reader does not care

No one knew Vox was married — and it wasn’t because he wanted to hide you, or he felt ashamed. He could never feel ashamed; you were basically his pride and joy — It was because he couldn’t stand anyone trying anything with you. Especially because of how much he doted on you. Someone could easily see how much he cared and use it against him — they could hurt you, manipulate you, maybe even force you into a soul-binding deal. He couldn’t risk anything happening to you.

That was why you lived very separate lives… Well, not entirely separate. He couldn’t stand letting you work for someone else (they could take advantage of you, or try to flirt with you), and he couldn’t handle being too far away from him during the day, so you worked at VoxTek. You had a job where you never interacted with your husband, and it left your days feeling exceptionally lonely. Especially because he claimed that he “didn’t want to overwork you,” which meant he stayed at the office much later than you did and you were left at home. Alone for most of the night, usually falling asleep before he got there, and waking without him because he went in earlier than you. 

You also had weekends off while he worked a good portion of the day, which let you “go out on the town” of course, but it also left you, again, very lonely. He did email you throughout the day, but that was because no one could see those emails. It was “an outdated form of communication” as he called it, which meant no one looked through them. 

Of course, when you did get to see him, you were ecstatic. He went on and on about how much he missed you all week, subtly asking if anyone had bothered you at all. If they did, they very coincidentally disappeared, so you often told him “no” for the sake of your coworkers’ souls.

And of course, after some time, people did start to bother you. They would get promoted, and get the chance to work with your husband directly, while you stayed exactly where you were and didn’t even get a call from him. That led them to teasing, which turned into snide comments and remarks, which became little “accidents” like spilling hot coffee on you or ruining and deleting your work. 

One day, after someone dumped piping hot coffee all over you, and a very expensive blouse your husband bought, you had enough and backhanded her. 

You were an overlord’s wife, and he gave you everything. Even and especially power. That meant the employee was flung across the room while screens burst and crackled around her, and you were dragged up to Vox’s office. 

“What is it now?” Vox asked when your supervisor knocked on his door, ignoring your wincing as you tried to get the scalding hot coffee-stained blouse as far from your skin as possible. 

“Another low-class bitch ruining our image,” was the response that made you laugh, knowing this person would be dead as soon as they opened the door. 

“Ah…” He sighed, but you knew he was smiling. “Come in.” He was probably going through his weaponry, pulling out just the thing to get rid of the “low-class bitch,” but as soon as the door was opened, you were shoved in front of him, and his weapon went off, you weren’t the one to fall limply to the ground. 

The two employees who opened the door quickly dragged the supervisor away and left you alone in the room. 

As soon as they were gone, he discarded his weapon and went to you. “What happened to you?” He wiped under your big eyes as he cupped your cheeks, which were dry, but he could tell you were upset and he was doing his best not to go out and get rid of everyone in your department. 

“I hit someone,” you said, and he found it adorable. There wasn’t much you could do wrong in his eyes. 

Clearly. 

“What’d they do to make that happen? I’ll kill them,” was his quick response before he cleared his throat. “I mean, I’ll talk to them about it.” His eyes drifted down to your blouse, his screen blinking and hands twitching on your face before they went to your blouse and began unbuttoning. He didn't say anything else, electricity zapping between his fingers as he fumbled with the buttons until he cursed and ripped the blouse open. The buttons clattered to the floor as he muttered, “I’ll get — get — get you a new one,” screen buffering and electricity zapping over his entire body. “Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so.” You knew not to tell him how much it burned with the way he was reacting already. “Vox—“

“After I take care of you, you're going to point out who did this, and who watched it happen. Understood?” He knew you tried to spare your coworkers from his temper, but he wasn’t going to let that happen this time. 

“It’s happened before—“ A loud whir of electricity sounded as Vox’s screen flashed and blue jolts of electricity burst around him. You shrunk back at the overwhelming power, quickly telling him, “I’m fine–”

“You didn’t tell me?” His voice sounded electric, making you swallow as he removed his overcoat to use as a towel to pat your chest dry. He couldn’t even enjoy the sight of you at work, topless, when this was the reason. He watched the way you winced with every touch of his jacket on you, fingers sparking at the redness he could see beneath the coat. His body jolted and the overcoat immediately sparked fire. “Fuck!” He tossed it to the ground, stepping on it to put the fire out. 

“You need to relax,” you told him pointedly. “I’m fine. You’re overreacting.”

“You’re underreacting,” he said childishly, taking in a deep breath before going to a closet in the large room and grabbing a spare blouse for you and an overcoat for him. At the sight of the many things he had to give to you and spoil you with in there, he calmed only slightly. “Did you at least hit her hard?” He asked as he handed you the blouse. You hummed, nodding and making a very prideful smile come to his face as you buttoned up the blouse. “Do you like this one?” He asked quickly, his evident mood shift into wanting to please you making you chuckle. “It’s not as expensive as the one that cunt ruined,” you hummed along to satiate his ego, “but I thought you’d make it look good.” Before you could say anything, he continued. “I have some more I got for you; do you want to see those instead?”

“I like this one. You picked it.” His screen buffered as he cleared his throat, a pink glow on his cheeks that he quickly got rid of. When you noticed he began to relax, you took the opportunity of being in his office to your advantage, sweetly asking, “Can we have a moment together before you go down and fire half your company?”

“Anything you want, dear,” he said, much more cheerful than he was moments ago. “Do you want anything to eat? Drink? I’ll call something up.” He went to the desk at the end of the room as you went to the seating area and sat on the sofa. “Where should I order from?”

“Vox, you’re at work. You shouldn’t order anything,” you had to remind him of his own rules he set for himself. “They’ll see me here–”

“Are you wearing your ring?” He asked, speaking over you.

“I’m always wearing my ring.”

He nodded, looking down at his matching golden band. “Let them see.” In the moment you gave him to think, he’d come to the more rational conclusion that he wouldn't harm anyone. Just that he’d terrify them to death by making it known that you were not to be touched ever again. “I’ll make sure everyone knows who they decided to fuck with today.”

[betweenstorms]

Butcher simon who can’t help but slowly realise the portions you’re buying at his are for one person’s only, nd he slowly learns more abt you from the casual things he observes; like your name when you take a phone call, what you’re planning to make, whether you have guests over… and he doesn’t mean to pry or feel anything over it, but he can’t help but feel a sense of pride when you keep coming back, with the same slight awkwardness, slight out of place feeling, always shyly looking up at him before staring at his hands only. (he wonders if you can see him flex his arm more, on purpose compared to the other orders.)

sorry, just needed to share this after reading yours :)

I love this, thank you for sharing! The little details Simon picks up on are so perfect. And the flexing on purpose? Chef’s kiss.

Part Three of What's Between Fridays (previous part) (masterlist) Butcher!Simon x fem!Reader

Simon Riley liked routine.

It kept the world in order and kept him grounded.

And running the butcher shop had always been routine. Methodical, repetitive, and solitary, just the way he preferred it.

He didn’t need to talk much, only sharp blades and clean cuts as his constant companions, the rhythm of bone meeting steel, and the quiet satisfaction of a job done well. He found solace in the sharp rip of tearing flesh, in the metallic tang of blood that hung thick in the air of his shop. It was the perfect barrier, a crimson curtain behind which he could stand, keeping the world at arm’s length, untouched and untouchable. Because people came and went. He watched them all, never really letting anyone into his space.

Until you.

You’d been a quiet fixture in his world for months now, slipping into the shop every Friday afternoon with the same awkward hesitance, like clockwork. At first, you were just another customer, always fumbling with your words, your gaze skirting his as if afraid to linger too long. Simon had hardly given it a second thought, just another customer passing through. But something changed over time, something he hadn’t been able to ignore.

It wasn’t particularly the way you looked or even the way you sounded, it was something quieter, subtler.

It was in the way you lingered—

—like you were hesitant to leave. 

So he started paying attention.

You never bought much, always just enough for one person. That told him more than you ever realised. No ring on your finger, no mention of anyone waiting at home. You were alone. He didn’t mean to dwell on that fact, but he did. He couldn’t help but notice the little things. The slight hesitation in your step as you approached the counter, the way your voice softened when you asked for his recommendations, as if you were nervous about making the wrong choice, about using the wrong words. And the way your eyes flickered over his arms as he worked, not realising that he noticed every glance, every stolen look.

He knew the effect he had on people, especially women.

He was a large bloke, muscular, intimidating to most. But with you, it felt different. It wasn’t just that you were nervous around him, it was the way you’d peek at him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

And he saw it. The way your sparkling eyes flicked down to his arms when he flexed, and yeah, maybe he did it a bit more around you. Just to see if you’d notice.

It was almost ridiculous to himself, how aware he became of his own movements when you were in the shop. Simon, who had never been one for vanity, found himself caught off guard by the subtle shift in his own presence. The weight of your gaze, tracing the lines of his hands, the curve of his muscles, stirred something in him. He wasn’t the type to seek attention, but there was a kind of satisfaction in knowing that, in those stolen moments, you saw him. And somehow, he found that he liked it—more than he cared to admit.

Simon wasn’t proud of it, but he had started piecing things together about you from the subtle details.

Your name overheard when you answered a phone call one particular afternoon. The quiet way you spoke to whoever was on the other end, your voice soft but clear. The small, everyday details of your life that trickled into his awareness over time. Like what you were planning to cook, whether you had guests coming over, even the way your eyes lit up when you talked about a new recipe. He wasn’t prying, wasn’t trying to learn more about you, but the knowledge seeped in anyway, like rain through cracked windows. 

And he found himself enjoying it, this strange cat and mouse game you both seemed to play without ever acknowledging it.

It was the way you two observed each other—never too long, never enough to make it obvious, but enough to catch those fleeting moments when your eyes met his. It was a game of longing glances, of stolen seconds, a tempting thrill woven into the mundane, and Simon couldn’t help but lean into it, enjoying the chase.

It had become a sort of ritual, a delicate choreography.

Each Friday, it played out the same. A dance of soft touches and curious glances, of hesitations and quiet desire, a rhythm you both followed without ever naming it. He’d hand you your package of meat, your fingers brushing against his for the briefest of seconds, and you’d blush, your gaze flicking down to avoid his.

It was a small thing, a passing moment, but Simon found himself waiting for it each time you stepped through the door.

That delicate brush of time where your presence seemed to still the air around him. He’d catch you looking at him more often than not. His arms, his hands, even the way he moved around the shop. You thought yourself subtle, but Simon, who had spent a lifetime reading the unspoken language of people, so he definitely knew when someone was holding back. And yet, despite all of it, you never made a move, never crossed that line.

Until you did.

It had been a regular Friday afternoon, just like all the others, and you’d come in with your usual nervous smile, your fingers brushing his as you took the package he’d prepared for you. But this time, something felt off, as though the sun had lost its way in the sky, casting shadows where light should have been.

You’d lingered just a little longer, your eyes meeting his with a kind of quiet determination that he hadn’t seen before.

And then, you asked him. 

“Are you… visiting anyone during the holidays?” The question had been innocent enough, your voice soft and unsure, but the weight of it hung between you like something fragile, something easily shattered. “I mean, celebrating with your family or…?” 

Simon’s chest tightened at the mention of family. However, the way you looked at him, the vulnerability in your sweet voice, made something stir in him, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“If not,” you’d continued, your voice faltering slightly, “I was thinking, maybe… you could join me for dinner this week? At my place.”

He’d stared at you, unable to form words for a moment.

You’d always been nervous around him, shy and reserved, but this… this was something else. The offer hung in the air, tentative, like you were holding out your heart, unsure if he’d take it or let it fall.

Simon had spent most of his life holding the world at arm’s length, keeping people at a distance where they couldn’t reach him, where they couldn’t see the quiet wounds beneath his skin. It was easier that way, safer and cleaner. No need to wrestle with the chaos of feelings or the tangled knots that came with letting someone slip past the defences. But as he stood there, your gentle eyes searching his, waiting for a word, he felt something shift, something unsettling in its quiet simplicity. It crept up on him, the realisation, as delicate and inevitable as the tide, that keeping you at a distance wasn’t as effortless as it had once been. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but he knew, in that fleeting moment, something had shifted.

Simon didn’t want to say no.

So he didn't.

“Okay.”

Your face had lit up, a soft smile breaking across your lips as you nodded, the tension in the air dissolving into something lighter, warmer. You took the package from him, your fingers brushing his once more, but this time it felt different—like a promise, a quiet understanding passing between you.

As you slipped through the door, leaving the shop behind, Simon remained rooted in place, his gaze lingering on the space where you'd been, watching the quiet swing of the door as it clicked shut. And for the first time in longer than he could remember, the feeling that settled in his chest wasn’t the familiar weight of apathy, nor the impenetrable armour of his guarded soul. No, this was something different—something lighter, like the gentle stirring of a breeze before dawn. It crept in softly, taking root in his ice cold heart, as though he were standing on the edge of something unknown, the whisper of a promise waiting to unfold.

For the first time in a long time, Simon allowed himself to think about what it might be like to let someone in.

To let you in.

And the thought didn’t scare him as much as it should have.

[carame1bunny]

𝕱𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖔𝖓

Part three of this, but can be read individually:)

Pairing: Alastor x Doe!fem reader

Summary: It’s basically a bunch of snippets of Reader being pregnant (if you would like to read more about it, more scenarios and details, feel free to request!)

Warning: talks of pregnancy(like, a lot), smut, breeding, possessiveness, lactation kink, mentions of birth, etc…

Alastor wasn’t too surprised when a few months after their first mating, her body started changing.

I mean, they were really worked up, all the time. After their first time they stayed in her room and nest for two weeks, barely coming out. Alastor was the one who sent his shadow down to bring them food, a lot of food. He tried to feed her as much as possible.

“You need to eat as much as you can, doe.” He had her favorite pasta, like… a lot of it and he insisted on feeding her himself. So there he was, holding a spoon that was packed with pasta, however she shook her head and pulled away.

“Alastor, I am afraid to gain too much.” Her ears flattened on her head in shame. “What if you won’t find me beautiful? And you won’t want me as your mate anymore…?” Her eyes were rimmed with tears. He gathered her face in his palms, that were as big as her head, he gave her a long kiss on her forehead.

“My darling doe, how could I not find you the most beautiful creature in this world? You’re mine, my mate and my everything. And you are doing the most beautiful things one could do, you’re giving me a little fawn. You’re about to go through pain and discomfort just so we can hold our own in our arms. How could you worry about some extra weight on you?” He knew what calmed her down always, he put her on his lap and leaned her head into his neck, so she could feel his scent more strongly. “You need to nourish your body so you could nourish our baby, your body needs nutrients to produce milk and keep the baby warm.” He rocked her from side to side. That did it. After that, she ate the bigger portions that he gave her.

But, after a bit, it was evident that her weight gain wasn’t due to her eating habits. It was due to the little fawn that was growing inside of her.

Alastor was worried about her, she was not quite herself. She never threw up, but felt nauseous from nearly everything. She also slept whenever and wherever she could. She went to sleep early, woke up late, and still somehow found time to take naps. Husk was actually the one who told Alastor that there could be something up with Y/N. One early afternoon, Husk was cleaning glasses when he saw her out of the corner of his eye, she sat down on the couch with her notebook in hand. He turned away for a second to put the glass back into it’s place, and when he turned back, Y/N was already deeply asleep on the couch.

Alastor was terrified on the inside at first, they finally find each other, only so he could lose her? What if she was sick? He couldn’t bear to see his mate fading away before his very eyes.

All of his worries went away when Y/N got an even bigger appetite for sex than before, they already fucked like rabbits. But now? It didn’t matter where they were or what time it was or what were they doing. No. If his darling wanted to fuck, he would fuck. Luckily, Alastor disliked not having her around the hotel, it was still dangerous for her out there. So, he fucked her on every solid surface in the hotel, with zero shame.

One thing about mates is that after they did their mating, the doe would start picking up certain characteristics from the buck. They noticed the first time when Vaggie pointed it out. Alastor and Charlie were working out plans for the hotel, and of course their partners had to be there for moral support, Vaggie and Y/N were sitting on the cushion in her’s and Charlie’s room, the one that is in front of the huge window. Y/N was staring out the window, completely lost in thought, the other woman snapped her out of her thoughts by gently wrapping her index finger in one of Y/N’s locks.

“This is new, I didn’t know you wanted to dye it, but it suits you.” She smiled, but Y/N looked at her with evident confusion.

“What do you mean?” She tilted her head.

“Your hair?”

“What about it?”

Vaggie only chuckled and led her to Charlie’s vanity, where she held up one strand of Y/N hair, which was… red and with a slight blackish tint at the bottom, along with quite a few locks of her hair.

To the movement, both Alastor and Charlie went to the vanity too.

“Oh. My. GOD!” Charlie shrieked in joy.

“Why, what a pleasant surprise!” He said before noticing that the tip of her ears were also developing a crimson color. He leaned down and started running his finger up and down her ear, causing her to lean into the gentle touch and flatten her ears against her hair.

Weeks went by and the changes became noticeable, Angel Dust immediately planned a brand new wardrobe for her to match the colors of her hair and ears. Even when Alastor had to go into town for business, he always made sure that his Y/N wasn’t alone, it was mostly Angel and Husk who kept her company. It was the situation now, Alastor had to leave for an Overlord meeting, and Y/N was in Angel’s room. He thought it would be a fun activity to have the doe try on his slutty clothes, but she liked it, she felt sexy.

She felt the physical aspects of her change of appearance lately, but she couldn’t make sure.

“Angie, I cannot zip this up! I would hate to ruin it.” She was laughing at herself, she was twirling like a fool, trying to reach for the skirt’s zipper herself, and failing miserably.

Angel pushed himself up from the bed, with a big smile on his face. “Here, let me, that one always gets stuck and I have four arms for a reason!” He tried to make it happen, but something was just in the way. He made her turn around to kneel in front of her, trying to see what was stopping the tiny zipper.

And that is when he saw it…

“HOLY SHIT!” His concentrated eyes changed immediately to surprised ones.

She looked down at him in panic, feeling a sudden pang of guilt, and tears. “What? I ripped it?! I am so so so sor—“

He just stood up laughing and put her in front of the mirror, so she could see herself from the side. She was still feeling sorry about the non existent rip that she didn’t even notice what he was trying to do.

His soft hand came up to her chin, so she could look into his eyes and then he guided her gaze to the mirror. “Y/N, look! There is a reason that the skirt didn’t want to zip up.” His fingers grabbed the bottom of the skirt to pull it lower, revealing her stomach.

Before she even had time to register what was happening, his lower set of arms came up to cup the lower part of her belly, which was slightly swollen.

She was shocked to say the least, but in a happy way. She was still staring at it from the mirror when Angel’s upper arms came to envelop her into a hug.

“Oh, Y/N… You are going to be the best mama, I know it.” After they broke apart from the hug, he lifted one eyebrow. “Sooo… Creepy face fucks good…?”

“…Fuck yeah.” They both started laughing, until Y/N was hit by her pregnancy hormones. One moment she was laughing, she was sobbing the next. Thankfully , Angel stayed with her until Alastor arrived back home. He held her and cried tears of joy with her. He tucked her in with his softest blanket, poor thing needed a nap after shedding so many tears. Fat Nuggets was curled up at her belly, and Angel slept close to her, too. Feeling protective over his best friend who was cooking up something beautiful inside of her.

That explained a lot. Her emotions, her sudden waves of horniness, her constant nausea and tiredness. No wonder all these things were happening to her.

She was expecting a little fawn, her and Alastor’s little fawn. A tiny fruit of their mating.

When Alastor arrived back, he knocked on Angel’s door and the sleepy spider opened it up. He let him in and they both looked at Y/N, who was asleep and cuddling with Fat Nuggets.

“I might just get jealous.” Alastor spoke in a hushed tone, then made her way to her side. He reached under her and gathered her in his arms in bridal style.

After saying farewell to Angel, he took his mate back to their room. He put her in their soft bed and laid beside her, snuggling her into his arms. She woke up when she felt his skin warming hers, this was the perfect opportunity.

“Alastor…?” She whispered, he was looking down at her, admiring his love.

“Hello there, my dear. Had fun with Angel?” He caressed her hair. But she leaned up on her elbows and towered over his side. Her silk nightgown was bigger on her form, so her tiny belly bump wasn’t visible.

“I have something for you…” she smiled, a genuine smile. He chuckled and pushed her strands of hair out of her face, those particular strands were just like his own. It made his primal and possessive self go mad, it was obvious to everyone that she belonged to the radio demon.

He kept looking at her with a love-dazed expression, waiting for her to continue. She pushed the straps of her lacy gown down her shoulders and she started to pull it over her head. “Well, this is certainly a beautiful sight.” His eyes were glued to her boobs.

“I have something better…” She straddled him and kissed him deeply. After a few seconds they were still lost in each other's lips. “I” kiss. “Cannot” kiss. “Wait” kiss. “To fee—“ She pushed her swollen belly into his lower ribs, not harshly, but enough to make him notice. “What is..?” He pulled away and checked her lower stomach, and that was when he saw it.

“My doe…I—“ He palmed her skin, it felt firm, but oh so very soft. His eyes softened and went glassy. His hands could feel the little life inside of her, where their little fawn was nestled into her womb.

He suddenly wrapped her up in his arms and attacked her bump with big smooches. “We did it! You’re carrying our baby, we will have our own baby!”

I think we all know that after Alastor was aware of his doe being pregnant, he practically became her shadow. He followed her everywhere. Helped her with everything, actually… He didn’t help her, he did everything for her.

His protectiveness got on a whole new level. There wasn’t a second of the day when his eyes weren’t on her, or his hands anywhere else but on her skin.

Angel kept his mouth shut, and waited for the two deers to tell everyone the big news, which was a few days after her bump’s appearance. What? They had their own celebrating rounds, multiple of them actually, like… multiple rounds every few hours. They needed each other in their bed and in their arms.

Charlie couldn’t stop crying at the news, she was so happy, she instantly started ordering a shit ton of books about babies. Vaggie was better at hiding her emotions, but she could not stop the smile that etched itself onto her lips, she instantly occupied herself by sharpening her spear. No fawn will ever be harmed on her watch!

As time went by and the bump was clearly evident, Y/N noticed how much others lingered in her presence. Vaggie was looking out for any danger. Charlie always talked to the baby and touched Y/N’s stomach. Angel couldn’t help but buy everything baby-related that he found cute. “What? It is my duty as Uncle Dust to make sure the fawn is a fashion icon from day one.” He said one day when he knocked on the deers shared room, with all of his hands full with shopping bags. Sir Pentious and Cherri were always lingering with Vaggie, their main priorities were protection. Pentious also made his egg bois baby-proof every surface.

They went to Cannibal town to pay a visit to one of Alastor’s dearest friends, Rosie. Y/N was wearing a dress that was tight around her boobs, but flowy at her belly. They made their way to her shop and it was so heartwarming to see the cannibal woman’s smile light up at the sight of them. She instantly ushered the crowd away to take a closer look.

“Oh Alastor! I don’t see you for a few weeks and you bring such a beautiful young lady to me?” Rosie caressed the doe’s cheeks with her manicured fingers. “I’m Rosie, and, oh… My, my. What a beauty you are! I see you two have grown quite accustomed to each other.” She noticed their similar features. Rosie suddenly opened her arms to envelop Y/N in a hug. “Come, come, darl—“ Of course, there was the bump. Her mouth dropped open and her fingers shot up to her lips. (Imagine her facial expressions in the Overlord meeting scenes here haha) “Oh, my darling. Congratulations!” Her hands were immediately all over her tummy. She ushered the pair to sit down., especially Y/N. “Sit down, dearie, you must be exhausted. Carrying that belly all the time.”

They talked and talked. Then Alastor revealed the reason for their visit.

“Rosie, me and my darling talked. And we decided that we would be honored if you could help Y/N deliver our fawn.” Rosie had helped many women through births, so Alastor knew that Y/N and the baby would be in the best possible hands. Who would have guessed that a cannibal could be the perfect midwife?

“I would be the one honored. Of course, I’ll help!” She wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist to cup her tummy, while leaning closer to her. “We will get that baby out in no time!” After Rosie explaining everything she could about bringing a baby into the world.

If Alastor really couldn’t be around, it was Husk who was around Y/N. One time, Alastor had to discuss business with Carmilla and at the same time a very pregnant Y/N demanded a walk. So, Husk went with her, but not before he made her a sugary non-alcoholic drink that could keep up her energy. On the walk, Husk had one of his wings around her, shielding her and the precious belly from any harm. To say that he was surprised would be an understatement, especially when he felt a little kick against his wing at her belly, it made him get more attached to that little hellspawn. Of course he had a pocket full of his weapon like cards. You know, just in case.

Alastor knew that he was truly in love with his sweet mate, who was carrying his baby under her heart wherever she went. His favorite part of everyday was the hours before they went to sleep. They went back to their room every late afternoon, which consisted of her getting fluffed into the best silky pillows he could find, and him laying his head on her belly. Nothing calmed him down more than feeling his doe’s skin on his cheek and hearing the little movements of his baby.

Y/N was excited and nervous as fuck at the same time. Alastor noticed it, of course. When they went to sleep, his ears perked up to the sound of her constant tossing and turning. He gathered her face into his hands. “What’s wrong, little doe? Anything hurt? Is the fawn kicking up a storm again?” He smiled gently at her.

“What if something happens during the birth?”

He kissed her face, there wasn’t an inch of her skin that his lips haven’t touched..

“Everything will be okay, my doe. You are strong, I know that you are. You will push through it, and you will recover.” She pulled away and sat up on her knees.

“You don’t understand, Alastor. I don’t care about myself. The baby is who I’m worried about, it is all I can think about.” She was getting herself worked up, while Alastor started to bite back a smirk. She didn’t notice the change of her form. “But one thing I know… I would f̸͔̘͚͉̀͗̍̾́͜u̷͇̞̦̻̮͆̈́͐͛̓c̷̮̥̙͇͗̋̃͘͠ͅḱ̷̟͍͎͔̖͗͋̐́ǐ̵̡̙̼̼̻̈́̍͝n̵̜͖̠̰͎̊͋͊̋͛g̴̦̥̜̜͍͂͂̀̀̔ ̷̤̖͕̬̹͆̈́̐̏d̷̡̧̺̦͕̾̓̃́̅ì̵̙̼̖̯̈͒͐̽ͅé̴̱͎͇̫̝̂́̈́͊ ̴͉̩̜̼̞̏́̽̍͝f̷̭͓̬̘̠̓̔͗́̀ǫ̵̖̤̬̭̾́̀̒͝r̷͎̤̬̦̞̎́̓͆̚ ̸̹͍̭̖͚̄̄̈́̏̄ȍ̷̱͔͉̠̲̆͛̀̿ȗ̸̡͍̮͍̞̀̋̈͂r̶̛̘͍̟̜̮͒̎̑̈́ ̶̜͕̼̝̓̾͊͛͘ͅf̴̨̤͙̰͇͋̓̿̐̕ȁ̸͔̹̯̲̗̅̉͂̽ẘ̸̥͙͔̠͎̊͗̓̚n̵̡̯͎̝͓̽͊̒̉̀.̸̱͓̺͍̔̑̑̿̏ͅ”

Her voice went static, like his does. Her limbs became longer and her eyes went red. Even with her demonic form, her belly still poked out. He sat up and grabbed her face, suddenly pulling her into a passionate kiss. She instantly went back to her proper form, kissing him with nearly twice as much passion. She straddled his lap, already grinding against his hard on, while his claws ripped her nightgown. “God, you make me fucking crazy.” He said while she grabbed a hold of his pajama button up and ripped it apart, sending buttons to fly everywhere. By the time his mind had acknowledged it, she was already taking out his leaking hard cock out of his underwear.

His sharp teeth kept on nibbling all around her neck. “Not a bad form, my doe, becoming too much like your mate?”

She chuckled. “Yeah, but I don’t think it really bothers you, does it?” Her hands wrapped around his erection, feeling how hard he got from the sight of her, and lining it up with her entrance.

“Oh—How could it bother me? My mate, forming into a demon before my eyes, with a big belly. Don’t worry, you looked so very sexy… I just want to…” He grabbed a hold of her wider hips and pulled her down onto his cock. “Fuck you so hard that I knock you up again.. You look so amazing, I can finally grip you properly.” His nails nearly broke the skin on her hips.

She was riding him as if her life was depending on it, swirling her hips and bouncing up and down. He started pounding up into her, meeting her thrusts, feeling the deepest parts of her. He noticed her nipples beginning to lactate, so he latched his lips onto her, sucking harshly. She was surprised when he did that, but moaned with a deep voice. It was so intimate, it also made him fuck up into her way harder than before.

“You’re so beautiful. So gorgeous.” He felt her orgasming around him, so he filled her up with his seed. She fell against his chest, heaving and tired.

He started caressing her back. “Good girl. You’re so good to me… Taking care of me so nicely, while holding our fawn within your womb.” He leaned his head on the top of hers, enjoying the way her soft ears made his skin tingle.

“You’re going to be the best mother, my love.”

Still no fawn! Don’t worry, there will be more, I just went overboard and I felt like Reader giving birth in this would have made it too long:)

Taglist: @jyoongim @lovingyeet @adamwarlockislife-blog @that-dumb-bitch @midorichoco @alastorswifeee @littlekacchan @sugurubabe @captainfia @alastorssimp @iheartalastor @speedycoffeedelight @1o-o

[traveler-at-heart]

Hello there, how are you? I don't know if you take requests at the moment but i want to ask you if you could write something with Liho?

Maybe something like, Liho didn't like any partners Nat had before Yn, and since they got together Liho likes Yn, Nat thought that maybe more than the cat loves her.

And maybe Yn left some clothes in Nat's house and when Liho misses her, she went to i don't know, a jumper, and sleep on top of it. And when Nat found Liho, she send a picture to Yn, and went next to Liho like saying "i'm gonna marry her soon"

So, this isn't exaaactly the request, but it is where the story took me! In any case, I hope you enjoy it and thanks for the prompt :)

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

Natasha knew how to protect herself.

Don’t trust anyone, always look over your shoulder.

It’s what kept her alive for so long.

But it’s what made her lonely too.

The few people she dated took her dettachment as a challenge that they happily accepted but soon abandoned.

Others were disinterested in complicated affairs from the start, and so things didn’t move past a couple of dates.

Then, you.

Medical staff came and went around the Compound. Most of the team had enhanced capabilities to heal themselves; for her part, Natasha was too stubborn to go on her own.

That’s how she knew she was seriously injured.

“Agent Romanoff” you greeted, a wary smile on your lips as Natasha struggled to focus, the white lights hurting her eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Confused”

“Yeah, that tracks” you nodded, turning away from the chart to look at her. “Do you remember anything?”

“An explosion…“

“And before that a bullet to your side. We were able to fix it by resecting a small portion of your liver and spleen, but you’ll need rest. For now, I’ll monitor you. Let’s think about discharging you in a couple of days”

“I can take care of myself” she objected, but struggled to sit up, pain invading her right side.

“That would be the feeling of cracked ribs” you nodded torwards her side. “I’m not asking if you want to stay, Agent. Your teammates are coming and going for missions or other engagements and you need to be monitored 24/7 for possible complications”

“What you’re saying is, I’m a prisoner here”

“Of course not” you closed the chart, smiling. “We don’t let the prisoners watch tv”

—

It had been mere hours, and Natasha was restless. There was nothing interesting in the tv, her phone was dead and it was ridiculous she was held captive here for “observation” when no one had checked on her for the last three hours.

“Sorry about that. Busy day here” you said with a smile, checking her blood pressure and the chart. “Any discomfort, pain?”

“No”

You nodded, asking for her permission to do a physical exam. Natasha scoffed but agreed with an eye roll.

“Bowel movement?” you asked, checking her pupils.

“No!”

“Ok, no need to get defensive” you placed your hands on each side of Natasha’s head. Your gentle touch made her squirm, and she was able to inspect you closer.

“You’re pretty” Natasha blurted out. You chuckled. “I am so sorry, I don’t know where that came from”

“No need to apologize” you smiled. “It’s the concussion”

“Right”

“Vitals are good, I’ll come back to check up on you in a bit” your pager went off. A large group of agents had just gotten back from a mission. “Squeeze the button if you need anything. Enjoy your stay with us, Agent Romanoff”

“When will I be able to go… home?” Natasha said, but you closed the door before she had a chance to finish her sentence.

—

Natasha hated being wrong. At midnight, the pain got bad and yet, you had to convince her she needed some medicine to ease the discomfort and rest.

But whatever you gave her worked wonders. When she openes her eyes, you were on the couch next to her bed, going through some charts and reports.

“Hey” she said. “I don’t know your name”

“Y/N” you looked up, smiling.

You sat next to her, checking her vitals as she drifted in and out of her sleep stupor. By the time she was fully awake, it was almost noon.

There you were again, munching on a cookie as you scribbled on a sheet.

“You don’t have to stay here all day”

“Oh, it’s no bother” you said, not looking up.

“No other patients right now?”

“No, it’s actually because every medic and nurse is afraid of you and they won’t bother me when I’m here”

“Glad I can be of service”

“Are you hungry? We can get you something very light to eat” you finally looked up, trying to hold back a yawn. It had been an intense night in the emergency medbay.

“What are my options?”

“Oatmeal and that’s about it”

“No coffee?”

“Nu-uh”

Natasha shruged her shoulders and nodded. You smiled, walking out of the room. At least three interns were waiting for you, asking all kinds of very stupid questions. You turned to her, as if saying, “I told you so” and left.

—

For the rest of the day, Natasha was the perfect patient, which obviously made you suspicious.

You repeated your physical exam, asked the same questions, got the answers minus the hint of sarcasm. You were about to turn and leave when she asked again.

“Wait! I can go home now, right?”

“Your hemoglobin is still a bit low and I’d like to wait at least another day”

“I can’t wait another day” Natasha said, glaring.

“Agent Romanoff, you can’t even go on missions right now. Whatever it is you’re so eager to do, I’m sure it can wait” you insisted, trying to avoid an argument after a 48 hour shift.

“It can’t” she insisted, and the monitor began to signal the rise of her blood pressure.

“Calm down” you asked, walking back to her bed. “Please tell me how can I help”

“It’s complicated”

“I’ll tell you what’s complicated. Pulling out bullet fragments from your stomach while I try to keep you from bleeding out. I was in that OR for eight hours and would like to guarantee you recover fully”

Natasha looked at you, and you sighed, sitting by the edge of her bed.

“I have a… cat”

“Oh”

“I need to feed her”

“Can’t someone else do it? A neighbour? One of the other Avengers?”

“Liho doesn’t like anyone, but me. If she hears or smells a stranger, she’ll freak out and attack them or try to run away” Natasha explained. “It’s not ideal considering my profession”

“Yeah” you nodded, thinking about what to do. Moving Natasha was not an option right now. “Let me try”

“Try what?”

“Try feeding Liho, is that her name?”

“It’s dangerous” Natasha warned you, sure it would end in disaster.

“My shift is ending, I can go right now” you ignored her warning. “If I could discharge you right now, I would. Don’t want a cat starving on my watch”

Natasha nodded, and gave you her address. You were surprised she had moved out of the Compound, but then again, a chief surgeon wasn’t privy to the Avengers every move.

The spy made you swear you’d call her if anything went wrong. As you opened the door to her apartment with the spare key, you were expecting to find a giant, feral animal waiting to sink its claws in your flesh.

“Liho” you called a couple of times, making sure the door was closed so she couldn’t escape. “I’m a friend of your mama, she’ll be back in a couple of days”

You were looking around the living room, when a thud behind your back made you jump. And there she was, a black cat with beautiful green eyes -that strangely, reminded you of Natasha’s-. You stared at each other, waiting for someone to move.

Liho did.

She let out a meow and rubbed herself against your leg.

“You’re the cutest” you cooed her, relaxing as she purred in your arms. “Why would Natasha even say you’re scary?”

While the cat jumped around, you searched for her food, cleaned her water bowl and her sandbox. Once you were done, you called Natasha.

“You owe me an apology”

“Did she scratch your eye out like Fury?” she sighed.

“No… wait. Is that how Fury lost his eye?”

Liho jumped on the kitchen counter, purring and rubbing herself against your arm.

“Is that Liho?”

“Yes. She has been purring and following me ever since I got here, Nat. She’s the sweetest cat and you were calling her crazy! In fact, you don’t owe me an apology, you owe it to Liho. Come here, gorgeous”

The cat responded to your words and Natasha smiled.

“I’ll stop by again before I go back to the hospital. Anything else you need?”

You filled a tote bag with everything on her list. Once you were done, you said goodbye to Liho. Thinking it might be funny, you took a selfie with her, smiling as she snuggled on your chest.

You sent it to Natasha, not thinking much of it.

Natasha’s blood pressure increased as soon as she saw the picture. No nurse dared to comment when she turned off the monitor with a smack.

—

“Is this really necessary?” Natasha said, fidgeting on the wheelchair.

“Humor me, Agent” you asked, pushing her to the entrance of SHIELD’s medical facilities. “This is the last time you have to follow my medical advice”

Clint was waiting for Natasha, and he looked as you wheeled her his way, clearly amused.

“How did you manage to get her to sit?”

“I have my ways” you winked at the man. Agent Barton was a far better patient, if only because you had his wife on speed dial.

“Remember, rest. Take your meds and call me if anything feels off. And say hi to Liho for me” you helped Natasha to the car, closing the door as she settled in. You waved as they drove off.

“What was that about your cat?”

“Oh, Dr. Y/L/N went to my place twice a day to feed her”

“And she survived? She must be special” Clint chuckled.

Natasha had to agree with that.

—

Liho was happy to see her human again, roaring like an engine as she rubbed herself on Natasha’s legs. After she came back from the hospital, the cat would never leave Natasha’s side.

The Russian also noticed that you had kept her place clean, and left some groceries and food for the first few days of her home recovery.

It was a strange feeling, being taken care of. Not unpleasant, truthfully, when it came from you. As she stayed in the confines of her apartment, Natasha pondered if it meant something else or if it was just wishful thinking.

You checked on her via text message, and that was all you could really manage to do, as you had back to back shifts and emergency procedures throughout the week. Still, you made sure to send some food to Natasha through delivery apps.

By the time you finally had more free time, it was a chilly Thursday night. As you were leaving the hospital and walking to your car, your phone rang.

“Please, not another emergency” you sighed, surprised at the name on the screen. “Hey, Agent Romanoff. How are you feeling?”

“I’m doing ok… but I might need your help”

“Nat, what’s wrong?” you dropped all formalities, rushing to your car.

“I’m fine, it’s Liho. I left the window open and she climbed all the way up the emergency stairs. And I tried but can’t go out and reach her”

“What do you mean you tried? You should have called me right away! Anyway, doesn’t matter, I’ll be there. Don’t do anything stupid, those are doctor’s orders”

By the time you got to Natasha’s apartment,  a storm was fast approaching.

“Hey, sorry for bothering you”

“It’s not… blood!”

“What?” Natasha looked down, at the place where you were pointing. Right on her stitches, there was a small stain of blood. “Oh, must have happened when I tried to reach for her”

“I knew I should have kept you for another week at the hospital” you grumbled, leading her to the couch. You found a gauze in your emergency kit and lifted her shirt, applying pressure. “Do not move. I’ll be right back”

“The stairs are slippery” she warned you as you stepped out the window. Natasha was surprised at how graceful your movements were.

You looked around, calling for Liho, but the clouds were covering the moon and the sky was dark, making it almost impossible to spot her.

“Ok, fine” you climbed up the steps, holding on to the rail. Taking a deep breath, you let out a high pitched call. “Kitty. Where’s my kitty?”

There small beads shone in the middle of the darkness, and you reached forward. Liho complained, clearly scared about the height. A thunder made her jump, climbing a lot higher.

“Liho, I take it back. You are crazy”

By the time you were able to reach her, it had begun pouring. You placed the cat inside your sweatshirt, to protect her from the rain and have both hands free to climb down.

“That was fun” you said, going inside soaking wet. You almost slipped and Natasha caught you by the waist. “Thanks” you said, feeling warm as her hand went around your back. You couldn’t help but look at her lips, and Natasha caught on, leaning forward.

In that moment, Liho peeked her head from the collar of your sweatshirt, protesting at the uncomfortable feeling of being drenched.

“Here, you need to dry” Natasha offered while you closed the window.

“Thanks, Nat”

She came back with a towel, yoga pants and a t-shirt. You tried not to swoon at the idea of wearing something of hers. Still, you said thanks and disappeared in the bathroom to get changed.

“Let me have a look” you asked when you came back, inspecting her abdomen. “Looks like it was just a small stitch on the edge of the wound. I’ll fix it if it’s alright with you?”

“Yeah, sure” Natasha nodded, and laid back as you prepared the sutures and wore gloves. You applied some local anesthesia and began to work.

“My technique is flawless. The scarring will be almost invisible” you promised.

“So, I can still wear bikinis?”

“Yeah” you nodded, trying to stay focused while the image of Natasha in a swimsuit floated around your head.

“I can’t thank you enough for taking care of Liho” Natasha said in a low voice, which almost made your hands tremble. “Too bad my doctor hasn’t officially discharged me, or I’d take you out to dinner”

“How about some take out instead?” you smiled, cleaning the wound and helping her up.

“That can be done for sure”

You had pizza with beer, sitting on Natasha’s living room while Liho jumped from your lap to hers. It was the best date you ever had.

Pretty soon, the alcohol and exhaustion caught up to you and when Natasha came back from the kitchen, you were fast asleep in her couch, Liho snuggled up in your chest.

Natasha smiled, covering you with a blanket. Liho purred, and your hand went up to scratch behind her ear on pure insctinct.

“I like her too, Liho” Natasha said with a smile. “She’s definitely a keeper”

[emsartwork]

Hey yall im not dead!

COSMIX!!! I've officially redesigned all the transformations in the Winx Club TV series hell yeah

Lore and Design notes below

So Cosmix is a rather defunct transformation in the modern era. It used to be used heavily in the age of space exploration but since teleportation and hyper speed ships became common place, the Magix dimension prefers to use those. Essentially, in order to set up a teleportation center, the caster/s need to have been to both the origin point and the target point. Witches and Mages were the primary people responsible for setting up the teleportation system, but in order to achieve the spells requirements, they would require help from a Cosmix fairy. The primary function of Cosmix is the ability to fly through space with out detrimental effects. Cosmix fairies can take 1, maybe 2, people with them while they fly in a shooting star esc trail function. Cosmix is not great for fighting unless the foe is darkness/light based. Defense is strong against cold, pressure, and friction, but not most other kinds of damage.

Cosmix is also theorized to be the Magix Dimension's version of the elementix. So like Sirenix is the transformation that grants access to the Infinite ocean, Cosmix is the one that would grant access to the Magix Dimension if fairies were in the other realms. Because humans already belong to the Magix Dimension, and the transformation isn't required to earn Nymphix, it isn't considered a true Elementix. Some fairies (mostly Solarians) do experience biological changes when using the transformation, seen here in Stella, but it's not super common. The hair takes on the magic color and drifts into nebulous star dust and galaxy clusters. Solarians are located closest to Lumenia, a tightly clustered star formation, and frequent attract Lumens due to Solaria's binary star system. They have formed fast friendships with the Lumens and many Solarians carry a Lumen's Blessing (it's similar to the elemental companions' bonds in the elementix) in their bloodline which contributes to the biological changes when using Cosmix.

I'm still hammering out how seaosn 8 works plot wise but I'll add it to my show changes masterlist eventually.

Design! The initial concept was "man i wanna draw some chunky ass boots" and i kinda ran with the cyber punk look from there. I was also adamant that Cosmix is a pants transformation, both out of practicality and spite because they made everyone so hyper feminine in season 8. I referenced the actual cosmix designs and their "space travel" oufits for the general shapes for these, but obviously there aren't a ton of similarities since I went in such a different direction haha. Also my first time drawing Aisha with twists! I almost gave her a fro cus it would mimic an astronaut's helmet (and lowkey a nod to Garnet from steven universe) but i like how the twists came out haha

Cosmix includes! Hair up and out of the way, a mesh base layer with light veins and stars, a body suit or shorts and top, a padded armor torso piece with some tubing ports, so many buckles and straps, a clear plastic portion(usually part of the torso peice, sleeves, or around the waist/hips), wrist/arm guards, and chunky chunky boots. The wings are also larger than most transformations (rivaling Butterflix/Faunix) and trail more of the fairy's magic color than usual. Simple geometric designs are standard.

[aphroditesmoon]

Okay but like…clarisse jealous?

I like a challenge when the prize is you

clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader

warnings: platonic luke x reader, kissing, title is from center by sir chloe.

wc: 2.0k

Today was your birthday, and though birthdays aren't exactly a big thing in camp half blood, considering there are probably more than 300 kids here, your cabin siblings decided to plan out a small party to celebrate it anyways.

You are easily one of the most highly respected demigod here. When you first arrived at camp, you held your ground and barely showed any fear nor awkwardness. You were friendly and charming but knew when to not take people's shit, that had earned you a favorable reputation and had gotten your godly parent to claim you after only being there for two weeks. 

People liked you. And because of the way you're perceived, they were all pretty surprised to find you in a secured relationship with the commonly known camp boogeyman.

You and Clarisse hit it off rather quickly. What started as a playful banter bloomed into a strongly bonded friendship, and then soon enough, became a romantic relationship. 

The two of you grounded eachother constantly, you compliment eachother personality wise, and you just have much more in common then people think. 

Equally as excited as your cabin siblings, Clarisse arrived right on time for your party in your cabin. The event was a private one, only your siblings and close friends are invited.

They had worked together baking a lovely raspberry cheese cake for you along with some brownies and chips. Despite it being your party, you were warned of stealing a taste of any of the food before the party begun.

You were immensely grateful when the clock finally hit 8pm and everyone invited finally arrived. "Can I cut the cake now?" You asked for the 5th time.

"Yes." Your siblings answered together, laughing at your excitement. Clarisse sat by your left, passing you the cake cutter. "Can you do it?" She mumbles as she watches you struggle to push it all the way down. 

You hummed positively and pressed on harder untik the knife finally reaches the bottom of the cake and everyone cheered. "There you go." You mutter to yourself.

Continuing to cut the rest of the cake, you soom began passing the pieces to everyone on paper plates before leaving the rest of it for yourself.

Clarisse was quick to scoop up a section of it with a spoon to wave it over your face. "Alright baby, you know how it goes, open up." Everyone else was laughing at the sentiment, but you weren't bothered by it at all, opening your mouth wide open for Clarisse to feed you like a mother does to her toddler. 

The party hat you were wearing really tied it all together. Nothing says festive more than a coney party hat with pink and yellow polka dots over them. 

"Oh this is amazing." You say with your mouth full, moaning at the taste. "Here, let me do it." You offered quickly,  taking the spoon from Clarisse to feed her the same way. 

If it was any other day, she'd rather die than get caught being babied like this, but it was your birthday, so automatically, you get a free pass. 

"Someone should take a photo." One of the girls called out, Clarisse' glare immediately shut her up. You laughed at her reaction, squeezing her cheek. "Oh no, you're grumpy again." She rolled her eyes and relaxed her face from all the frowning.

"I'm not grumpy, I just naturally look like this." She defends herself as she eats her portion of the cake. 

Music was playing on the back, a mix of Debussy and Tchaikovsky on shuffle as everyone knew how overwhelming loud party music made you feel.

It was all well and beautiful, everything went better than expected, and it's in these moments, surrounded by your loved ones and feeling your happiest, that you feel the luckiest in life. 

It was present sharing time when you heard your cabin door knocked on. You ignored it ar first, letting your sibling check on the visitor as you continue to open your presents. 

"Oh my god, it's a cat sweater!" You exclaimed at your sister's gift. She was only 10 with a passion for sewing and fashion, and she probably took days to make the sweater. You could see the slightly folded and unsymmetric edges, making it even more endearing. 

"You said it's your favourite animal." You nodded your head and bear hugged her. "It is, thank you for this." 

You were about to open your 4th present when your sibling that you had sent to check on the door came sprinting back. "Who is it?" You asked with a raised brow.

"It's, Luke." The name caused the noise around you to husb down. You could feel Clarisse stiffen next to you when you smiled. "Oh, is he joining us?" You doubt it, seeing as he wasn't exactly invited, and it was already so much people here.

"No, he said he wants to see you outside." 

You and Luke are as close as he is with anyone else. His face is usually what new campers are met with, being the leader of Hermes cabin and all, he's always taken the role of the mentor very naturally, never having a problem helping the new kids find where they belong.  

Clarisse unfortunately doesn't view your friendship with him as just that. You've seen the way she tries to size him up whenever he attempts to talk to you alone.

You stood up from your sitting position and ushered your friends and siblings to get back at the eating and dancing as you walk yourself out of the cabin to meet him.

Your hand slips away from Clarisse's. You give her a quick smile that meant 'don't worry about me', before you disappeared from her sight.

Just as you were informed, Luke is outside the door when you exit from it. He wears his easygoing grin when he sees you. You returned his smile and spoke his name.

"Hey." He greeted you. "Got the birthday girl a present." He shows you the small box he carried with him, wiggling his brows as he speaks.

"Oh, Luke, you shouldn't have." He shook his head at you nonchalantly. "Don't worry about it, just wanted to get you something." His presses the box into your hand and folded your fingers over it before taking a step back.

"Thank you, Luke." You tell him, meaning those words. He gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Your welcome. Now, I'm sure you'd like to go back to your party. See you tomorrow?" You nod your head.

"Alright then, have a good night, happy birthday." You waved at him as he walks off towards his own cabin, waiting until he's a few steps away before going back in. 

You were glad that no one really noticed you until you were near to the group to sit down. Though Clarisse's eyes were on you as soon as you entered the cabin.

Some of them stopped eating as they moved to seat crisscrossed closer to you. "What did he want?" One of them asked. 

You lifted the box up for them to see. They responded with an 'oooh' as they wait for you to open it. "It's so small." Your younger sibling noted, hovering above the box. "Maybe it's a ring." The other suggested. You snorted and shook your head.

"And where would he find a ring around here, less alone to make one." You knew it wasn't a ring. Besides the fact that he didn't have your ring size, he wouldn't give you such a bold gift that could cause a misunderstanding and piss of Clarisse at the same time. 

You opened it gently and awed at it's inside. It was a brooch. One in the size of your thumb. A golden coloured hibiscus engraved brooch. "This is lovely." You noted, letting everyone else look at it.

"It's fine." Clarisse countered, her nose scrunching at the view.

As your younger sibling held it in her hand to properly look at it, you reach over to Clarisse, intertwining your fingers together again. "What about you? No gift for little ol' me?" You ask her jokingly.

"Of course I got you a gift," she scoffed, leaning in to your side. "But I'm not gonna give it here. These chatterboxes can't be trusted."

"These chatterboxes are my siblings." She shrugged at your words. "Never said you weren't a chatterbox either." You gasped loudly, faking offense and lightly slapping her arm. Her grouch falls away, her pursed lips curved into a small smile. 

The rest of the party went well, you managed to get everyone to finish the food so there wouldn't be any leftovers. And despite the argument your cabin presented, you helped them cleanuo the mess and threw away the trash before ot was time to turn off the lights.

You made sure all your younger siblings have been tucked in and all your older ones are done with the chores before you and Clarisse leave the cabin past 11pm.

Some of the girls sent you teasing looks before you left,  but they all swore to secrecy and made sure to cover for you just incase Chiron or Mr.D heard of your little past curfew late night walks.

Once the two of you made it further into the woods, Clarisse pulls you by the arm to sit down next to her on the less harsher part of the grass. You immediately moved to wrap your arm around her neck, resting your head underneath her chin, she wraps her own arms around you and placed a chaste kiss on your hair. 

"Happy birthday." She whispers against your forehead. 

You looked up at her from your position and eyes her suspiciously. "I thought you said you had a present for me?"

A short laugh escapes her as she ruffles your hair. "My presence is not a gift enough for you?" You blinked and answered; "No." 

Clarisse laughs again and uses her right hand to pull something out of the inside pocket of her jacket. "Well, at least you're honest." She did not have a box or a wrapper like the others did. But your heart melted at the sight of the present still.

It was a string of pearls. A necklace. And you could tell from the shine and the ivory colour of it that they weren't fake pearls. They attracted you like a moth to a flame.

"Clarisse, this is beautiful." You told her, she passes it onto your hands and watch as you eye them closely. "I know. Better than the stupid pin." You brows raise at that, your gaze darts from the necklace to her face. 

"Careful Clar, some might say you sound a bit jealous." She huffs and winces at that. "I'm not jealous- I- I just...don't like him." 

"And why don't you like him?" You question her. "Because he keeps hitting on my girlfriend." She answers in a matter of factly tone. "Being nice doesn't equal flirting." You tell her.

"I know that. Does he know that?" 

Clarisse has never liked the way Luke talked to you, and sometimes you genuinely wonder if she was right and if it was you who never noticed any of his romantic advances. But your principle has always been straight to the point, if he doesn't say it outright, then it's not real.

"Well, he hasn't crossed a line so far, so I'd say yes." It wasn't that you're trying to defend Luke, you just don't see what he's done so far that deserves defending at all. 

Clarisse grunted in response and pulls you back into her arms. You refrain from holding her by placing your palms on her chest. "Wait, put it on me first." 

Something clicks behind her eyes like she just remembered about her gift. "Oh, right." You turn around with your back facing her. Clarisse places the pearls over your neck and hooks the back together in one try.

Twisting your body to face her again, you fiddled with the necklace and looked at her for approval. "Well?" She smiled as her fingers came close to your face to brush away the strands of hair covering your cheek. "It fits you." 

You let her pull you by the back of your head to kiss her, welcoming her lips with yours. 

Not that you'd ever admit it aloud, but having her by your side would always be the real birthday gift to you.

[arsenicflame]

@treesofgreen incredible tags <3

I get very frustrated when people act like Izzy asking people to do stuff is like…him being controlling or odd, because…um…that’s the job he gets paid to do? He’s second in command his job is to manage the ship.

Like no one’s going to get onto Ed’s case for making Izzy get Stede despite Ed’s whining because, Ed’s captain, he has that authority.

Like imagine thinking your manager was weird for telling you to put things on shelves.

[jasminumdew]

Bear & Honey

Bear!Price x Beekeeper!Reader

Tag: fem reader, bear shifter John Price Word count:  638

It’s the second winter you’ll spend in this town. This one seems quite more brutal, with snow filling the ground in the beginning of November. Your beehives are all wrapped up, prepared for the bitter season. The bees started to become less active than in the warmer seasons since there were no flower fields blooming within this town in this temperature. To assist them, you mixed some sugar syrup and left it on the hive-top feeder. The beehives have been here for only half a year, so you’re not the most experienced when it comes to taking care of them. But your neighbor - John Price - was a great helper. You didn’t miss the way his crinkle eyes deepened when you asked him for help building the beehives. He sometimes stops by after work to check the frames or just to have some tablespoons of honey from you. He always offers to help you out, cause “that’s what neighbors are for, right?”. 

However, recently you’ve been quite concerned over his health. John seems to be vulnerable to the cold, you thought, for last winter you never saw him go outside. At first you thought he went out of town, but the dim yellow light of the heater through his windows says otherwise. The only interaction was that every two weeks he texted you, pleading with you to buy him some food and a big jar of wild honey. You didn’t mind driving a few extra miles to help your hot, older neighbor a bit. Poor guy, too sick to take care of himself, so you cooked an extra portion every meal then left it at his front porch. 

Last Sunday morning John went over your fences. There are bears around in this area lately, he said, though you’ve never seen or heard one, but John’s been living here for so long, so he must be right. Little did you know, the beehives are all destroyed by this early morning. All the honey was licked and devoured, even the frames were chewed and left the scattered debris all over the yard. You choked out a cry, throat tightening and eyes burning red, seeing months of your hard work dying out in front of you. It cannot be fixed, with the majority of the colony being eaten like this. The fences that John set up himself were also smashed by its massive weight. 

You immediately call John to come by, in fear of bears still lurking around. The phone keeps beeping but he never answers. Your heart was beating like a drum in your chest, since your houses were so close to each other, could it be that John has already encountered the bear and was attacked by it? You instantly grab the nearby uncapping knife and run to his house. The front door was wide open, deep scratches on the wall and his wallpaper being torn, the smell of grass and honey lingers in the air of his house exposing the presence of the unwanted intruder. Your body shivers, you slowly head to his kitchen where you heard his voice.

“John? Are you okay?”.  Before you finished your sentence, you saw John shape-shift into a giant brown bear just a few meters from you. His head snaps to your direction and runs towards you immediately. Before your head can even process what to do next, he pushes you to fall on your back, using his big furry body to pin you down. “Shh, don’t yell, calm down love”. Your lungs are burning from lack of air as you struggle to push him off of you. “I’m sorry for your hives, darling. I was starving, you’ll understand, right? You’ve been such a good girl for me. I can fix it in the spring, but for now, you’ll stay here with me”.

Note: this is my first time writing fiction so I know it's not really good, but I hope you guys had fun reading this.

[virginsexgod69]

REQUEST ‼️‼️‼️

I’ve always wanted to read one where the reader is one of Hershel’s daughters (set in season 2). When Daryl and the group show up the reader won’t stop teasing Daryl and eventually he can’t take it anymore. Please make my dreams come true 😭😭🤘. (p.s virgin reader would be +50 points ;)

❝ V-Card ❞

pairing (S2) Daryl Dixon x virgin!fem!Reader

cw loss of virginity, unprotected p in v, lowkey inexperienced daryl, but also not really?, teasing, some pining, daryl kinda being a boob man, reader being a little pervy at times

note i am so sorry i kept you waiting 32 days for this request @mygrandmaschinacabinet, i really hope you like this and thank you for your patience and kind comment on my other post!

p.s. just bc reader is hershel's daughter does not imply anything ab her appearence

~5.k words

 Living on a farm that was fairly far from society, it was a given that you wouldn't see good looking guys too often. But being a good looking girl, the guys you didn't want were always the ones after you, and you'd always have to turn them down. When she gets older, she's gonna have to fight off boys with a stick, was something your grandma would often tease your father, Hershel, about. You laughed it off, not paying any mind to it, but boy did she end up being right. You spent a good portion of your high school years rejecting your suitors, none of which were good enough for you, and none of which you really wanted. But when you finally laid eyes on the most beautiful man you've ever seen, he happened to be one who seemed to pay you no attention. 

 Odd circumstances brought the beautiful man, whom you quickly learned was named Daryl Dixon, to your farm. Otis shot a kid, Hershel took him in to care for, and his dad's group eventually made a home on your father's land. You couldn’t help but ogle at him from your bedroom window whenever you got the chance. The way his biceps flexed whenever he worked with his arms had your virgin pussy aching to be filled by him. He was a man who you’d let do things to you that you’d let no other man before even think he had a chance of doing. 

“Not this again,” Maggie complained upon entering your room. You were perched at your window -like you have been since the group first arrived- watching Daryl skin some squirrels. No one could look as good as he did while doing such a grisly task. 

“Can you blame me? Jus’ look at him,” you replied dreamily. 

“No thanks.” 

“Whatever. You have your eye candy, I have mine.” 

“Eye candy? What’re you talkin’ about?” She asked defensively. 

“Glenn. I’ve seen the way you look at him, like he’s a piece of meat,” you teased. 

“Whatever! Do you need anythin’? I’m goin’ out on a run.” 

“With Glenn?” 

 She let out an annoyed huff and exited the room, not awaiting your response. But you didn’t need anything anyway. You went back to watching Daryl. The sweltering Georgia heat caused sweat to drench his sleeveless shirt and drip from his short, dark hair. He looked like he walked out of one of your many wet dreams. Just then, an idea popped into your head. You hurried down to the kitchen and filled a glass with water, cooling it with the scoops of ice you added. Surely this kind deed would put you on his radar. 

“Hey, Daryl,” you cheerily greeted as you approached the rugged man. He sat on a stump, now gutting the squirrels he already skinned. He grunted in response, not looking up from his work. Your smile dropped, not that it mattered, considering he wasn’t even looking at you. 

“Brought you some water. It’s pretty hot out here and I wouldn’t want ya gettin’ dehydrated,” you said as you held out the cold glass, now dripping with condensation. “Thanks.” He grabbed the glass, his fingers slightly brushing yours, sending a tingling through your spine. He threw his head back, downing the water. A small stream of water dripped down his chin, then his neck, sliding down his shirt no longer in your vision. You squeezed your thighs together. Every little thing he did drove you crazy. You felt like a victorian man who’d just seen a peek of a woman’s ankle whenever you were around Daryl. 

“You uh… Ya need somethin’?” He asked when he noticed you haven’t left yet. You froze. You didn’t need anything, but you didn’t want to leave either. 

“Jus’ came to check on ya, I guess,” you muttered. 

“ ‘M fine?” He tossed the squirrel’s guts into a bucket. 

“Well, alright. My work here is done!” You cringed as the words left your mouth. You grabbed the emptied glass and walked back into the house, chastising yourself the entire way. You wanted nothing more than to have him look at you the way other guys do, but he barely give you the time of day. 

 The glimmer of sunbeams on your face woke you up the next morning. You glanced at the analog clock on your nightstand that read 11:36. You hopped out of bed and eagerly hurried to your window, hoping Daryl would be back from hunting or looking for that little girl or whatever else it was he did when he wasn’t in his usual spot. He was sat on that stump again, but this time he was cleaning his crossbow with that red rag he kept on him. You couldn’t take it anymore, you had  to do something. He couldn’t keep getting away with being so hot and so uninterested in you. 

 You readied yourself in the bathroom, making sure every hair was in place and every tooth was brushed. You debated putting on makeup. You had some leftover from before, but never had a reason to use it, not until now. You layered on some mascara until your lashes looked twice as long and twice as full and coated your lips with some tinted gloss. You stared into your closet debating on what you thought Daryl’d like better. Your tightest, shortest shorts and a nearly see-through tank top. 

“What’re doin’ all dolled up like that?” Your younger sister, Beth asked upon entering the kitchen. 

“Makin’ lunch for D-,” you stopped yourself, not wanting another sister catching onto your thing for Daryl, “for the group out there.” 

“Daddy doesn’t want us wastin’ all our stuff on them,” she protested. You rolled your eyes at her. She could be such a goody-two-shoes sometimes. “What he don’ know won’ hurt him.” You cut a piece of the sandwich you made and handed it to Beth. 

“Eat this and keep quiet.”  

You assembled the sandwich and a glass of lemonade on a tray and carried it over to his lone camp. He didn’t look at you until you were standing before him holding the tray of food. His eyes slowly made their way up to yours, lingering on your bare legs and exposed cleavage on their way up. You couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged the corners of your mouth at this small victory. He quickly averted his gaze and set his crossbow down. 

“Wha’s all this?” He asked, nodding his head toward the tray in your arms. 

“Made ya lunch. Figured you’d be hungry after all that huntin’ and searchin’ you been doin’,” you answered as you set down the tray. 

“Uh, thanks?” He seemed confused, but grateful nonetheless. “Of course,” you replied with a bright smile before sauntering off, swaying your hips more than usual. Unbeknownst to you, he watched you until the door closed behind you. 

 In the days that passed, you upped the ante on your teasing. Daryl noticed. At noon almost everyday, you’d bring him lunch in risqué little outfits. Not quite skimpy, but just enough to tease him. And tease him they did. He already was too nervous to look at you, afraid he might scare you off with his gruff nature and lack of experience with women. He’d choose, instead, to catch glimpses of you when you weren’t watching. Like when you’d leave after bringing him something, or when you’d be around doing farm-work or interacting with the other members of his group. But when you started wearing those revealing outfits, it became harder for him to keep from looking at you. But when he made eye contact with you, he became so nervous and shy that he had to look away. You were the sun. He could feel your warmth, even when he couldn’t see you. You were so bright and beautiful that he felt pulled to look at you, but whenever he did, it couldn’t be for long because he’d forcibly look away, your bright smile burning his sensitive retinas. 

 Speaking of the sun, there you were. “Daryl!” You called as you ran to him. The actual sun glowed behind you, making you look even more like an angel. He was atop one of your horses ready to leave the farm to look for Sophia. He was shocked to see you since you usually weren’t up until noon. He’d know since that’s around the time he sees you watching him through your window. 

“Yeah?” He grunted. 

“Ya goin’ out to look for that little girl?” Once you were out of the sunlight, he could actually get a good look at you.  Something in him stirred when he saw you in the little dress you had on. It was a cream color with ruffles at the bottom and it gave him a good view of your breasts from his position on the horse. He quickly tore his eyes away and looked at the view ahead of him, which was nowhere near as beautiful as you. 

“I figure you’ll be gone for a bit, so I brought you a little bite to eat,” you said holding up a few muffins you made the other night wrapped in cheesecloth. 

“T-thanks,��� he stuttered. Despite how frequent it was, he was always taken aback by the kindness you show him. He’s never been treated the way you treat him before and it caught him off guard. 

“Be back by dinner, okay?” It wasn’t a command, more of a hopeful question, but made his heart flutter. 

“I’ll try.” He didn’t want to make any promises he couldn’t keep. You stood there fiddling with your dress about to say something but deciding against it each time. 

“Wha’ is it?” 

“B-be safe out there!” You blurted before scampering off. He found it odd how you could be so bold with your teasing, yet shy when it came to actually talking to him. 

  Your words echoed in his head as he searched for any sign of Carol’s lost daughter. Your request of be back by dinner, okay? motivated him to get back to the farm, despite his injuries from the horse tossing him down a cliff making it difficult for him to move. But what really stuck with him was your horrified scream when you saw Andrea shoot him. That scream haunted his dreams while he was unconscious. The terror of it being the last thing he’d hear from you was his real nightmare. So when he heard your soft “Hey,” he felt relief wash over him, despite the pain everywhere else. He blinked his dry eyes open only for the first thing for him to see being your tits. You had on a loose t-shirt with no bra underneath. He didn’t know if this was a part of your teasing or a pure mistake, but either way, his cock stirred at the sight. You leaned down further to look into his eyes. 

“How ya feelin’?” You ask, placing the back of your hand to his forehead. He tried to croak out a response, but his throat was too dry. You quickly grabbed the glass of water at his bedside and helped him drink it. 

“Better?” 

“ ‘M fine,” he said. You gave him a look that said you didn’t believe him, but were humoring him anyway. “You were injured pretty badly, Daryl,” you said as you gently stroked his hair. He caught himself before he could fully melt into your touch. In fact, he moved away from it. 

“I know, ‘m fine,” he snapped before trying to roll over, away from you. He didn’t like you seeing him like this. So weak and frail, having to depend on those around him. He didn’t see the hurt expression that took over your pretty face. But, to his luck, you didn’t let him push you away. Instead, you toed off your shoes and got into the bed beside him, facing him. He hoped to the high heavens that you couldn’t see the redness that blossomed on his face when you flashed your bright smile at him. 

“I’ll keep ya company,” you promised. 

“Don’ need no company, said ‘m fine.” He didn’t know why he was so adamant about pushing you away. The minute he realized you were in here, he brightened up. He didn’t want his sunshine to leave, but he couldn’t help the storm that was brewing inside him. 

“Well, if you really want me to leave, I’ll go.” You were almost out of the bed before his clammy hand grabbed your wrist. 

“Nah, you can stay,” he said, prompting the return of that bright smile. 

 When you woke up, the sun was setting and Daryl’s arm was around your waist, holding you close. Your heart swelled, this was all you ever wanted, to be in Daryl’s arms. Okay, well you wanted more than just his arm around you, but small victories! You gently moved his arm off you so you could get up and get some dinner from him and yourself. 

“What were you doin’ in there?” Your father asked as soon as you stepped out of the room. He stood outside, about to come in, holding a tray of food for the bowman. 

“Nothin’, Daddy, I was jus’ checkin up on our patient!” It was the truth, but it felt like a lie. 

“Since earlier this afternoon?” He pressed. 

“Lost track of time,” you explained. 

“Now, honey, I know you’re just lookin’ out for him, but-“ 

“I know, I know, you don’t really trust them, but I’m just lovin’ thy neighbor, so to speak.” You bargained. 

That response seemed to satisfy him for now. He handed you the tray of food to give you Daryl. 

“Daryl, dinner,” you called softly upon reentering the room. He groaned, but woke up anyway. He tried to sit up, but winced in pain. You set the tray down and quickly ran to his side to help him out. You adjusted his pillows and helped him to a sitting position. 

“Wha’s fer dinner?” He asked, glancing at the bowl of soup on the tray beside him on the bed. You hummed in thought before dipping your finger into the bowl and sucking it clean, making sure your lips were pouty as you did so, hoping to tease Daryl. 

“Tomato.” He hummed noncommittally before reaching for the spoon. You swatted his hand away. “Nuh uh, you’re still healing, let me feed you.” 

“I can feed myself,” he protested. You furrowed your brows and pouted at him. He sighed and rolled his eyes, but opened his mouth slightly, waiting for a bite. You smiled, scooping up some soup and spooning it into his mouth, making sure to lean forward as to give him a front row seat to the view down your shirt. You saw him avoid looking the first few times, but soon he was unable to resist taking a peek, and soon his peeking became staring (however, he pretended not to be whenever you looked back up at him). 

“Enjoy the soup?” You asked once the bowl was mostly empty. 

“S’alright,” he said as he nibbled on a cracker. You grabbed the bowl and drank the rest of the soup directly from it. 

“Goddammit!” You cursed when a glob of soup fell onto your white t-shirt. But maybe it was a blessing in disguise, a chance to drive Daryl crazy. You grabbed a random t-shirt from one of the drawers and set it down before taking off the one you had, tossing it aside. You put the new one on as if you didn't just give him a strip show. His face was beet red and he hurried to adjust the blankets on his lap. 

"Daryl, you okay? You look a little hot?" 

"S'just w-warm in here." 

"Let me jus' check your temperature." Instead of pressing the back of your hand to his forehead like before, you placed a gentle kiss to it. 

"Feels a little warm." You stayed close to his face. If he moved, even a centimeter, his lips would touch yours, which is what you were hoping for. You glanced down at his lips, then up at his blue eyes, waiting for him to lean in. Despite all this teasing, you kinda wished he'd make a move, too. When he didn't, you pulled away, kissing him on the cheek instead. 

"Get well soon, okay?" you said before taking the tray and leaving. 

Daryl had been mentally punching himself since that night. He was an idiot for not kissing you when he had the chance. You were right there and so obviously waiting for him to do something, anything. But he couldn't. It'd been so long since he'd done anything with a woman, and even then, he didn't think he was any good. He was almost embarrassed about how inexperienced he was at his age. And someone as beautiful as you obviously would have some experience, so why waste time on him. He didn't want to be the cloud that dulled your shine. 

 He was now well enough to be released from Hershel’s care, but not well enough to resume about his usual ways. He’d normally disobey orders to take it easy, but when you made him promise to rest, he couldn’t break it. Subconsciously, he glanced over to your window. It wasn’t something he did often, considering you were usually the one watching him, but you were weighing heavily on his mind. He saw you up in your room, assuming you’d just woken up since it was almost noon. You were at your window, rummaging through your dresser -he knew where it was when he caught a glimpse of your room when he was inside the house. You held up a few shirts, probably deciding on which to wear, before pulling your pajama shirt off over your head. This was now the second, no, third time he’s gotten a perfect view of your tits. God they would feel so good in his hands, better yet, they’d look so good  bouncing in unison with his thrusts as he fucked you into your mattress. Your teasing and mischievous ways only fueled his fantasies, causing his pants to tighten uncomfortably. The little wave you gave him from your window pulled him out of his own head. You, still topless, blew him a kiss before stepping out of frame. 

 His heart rate increased expeditiously as he nearly came in his pants. He couldn’t handle your teasing anymore, it was driving him crazy. He wanted you, not just the fantasies in his head and the company of his hand. He wanted to feel your walls squeeze his cock, hear your little moans as he pleasured you until your mind went numb, become one with you as you came in unison. He hurried into his tent and zipped it all the way up before collapsing onto his sleeping bag and hurrying to undo his pants. He liberated his aching cock from its confines and spat on his hand. He rubbed himself up and down, from base to tip, imagining it was your pretty mouth swallowing him whole. He ignored the sound of distant footsteps approaching his tent and instead chased his climax, which was coming embarrassingly fast. 

“Daryl?” Your distant voice called, but all he heard in his mind was you moaning his name as your nails scratched down his back. 

“You in here?” You asked. Daryl came in his hand, taking extra care to stifle the moan that threatened to spill from his mouth. Reality set in when he saw your shadow standing outside his tent. He quickly wiped his hand off on the closest piece of fabric and shoved himself back in his pants. 

“Need somethin’? He asked. He willed you not to notice his flushed, sweaty face. 

“Watcha doin’ in there?” You asked, trying to peek into his tent. He moved to block your vision. He didn’t need you finding any trace of his earlier activity. Although, the little dress you had on had him ready to continue said activities.

“Nothin’.” 

“Anyway, I came to check on you, make sure you’re takin’ it easy.” 

“I am, was jus��� takin’ a nap,” he lied. 

“Then why are you so red? And sweaty? Are you comin’ down with somethin’?!” You were starting to sound worried, making Daryl feel guilty. You reached up to feel his forehead and check for a fever, but he stepped back, avoiding your touch. If he felt your skin on his, in any capacity, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold back anymore. 

“Daryl, don’t be so stubborn!” You stepped closer only for him to step back again. 

“Ain’ got no fever, girl! S’just hot out here!” He insisted. 

“Don’ know that for sure. If it is one, it could mean one of your wounds is infected.” 

“S’not a fever, ‘m sweaty from workin’ out.” You looked at him with an eyebrow skeptically raised and a hand on your hip. So much for takin’ a nap, you thought. Your eyes traveled down his body before meeting his again, this time with look more mischievous than usual in your eyes. 

“Your fly’s down.” He quickly zipped it up, cursing himself for the dumb mistake. 

“Anythin’ to do with your ‘work out’?” 

“Dunno what yer gettin’ at.” His heart was beating faster in his chest, this time because of anxiety. You were onto him and he was about to get caught, humiliated under your scrutinizing gaze.

“Flushed, sweaty face.” You took a step closer and he took one back. “Dilated pupils.” Another step forward and another one back. “Unzipped fly.” He stepped back, not looking where he was going and stumbled onto the grassy ground. You sat down next to him. “Took forever to open your tent.” Your face split into a grin like the Cheshire Cat.   “I’d say you were in there masturbatin’.” He stumbled over his words, looking for what to say in denial of your observation accusation. You pressed your pointer finger to his lips. 

“Shh, it’s okay.” You leaned over him and slid your hand down his chest. “I touch myself, too.” His sparkling blue eyes went wide. “Usually thinkin’ ‘bout you when I do it.” You could feel his breathing change as you slid your hand further down his toned stomach. “Were you thinkin’ ‘bout me?” His face was beet read and breathing shallow. You had him and he was more than ready, willing, and able to give in. He nodded his head, confirming your suspicions. 

“Well, next time I’m on your mind,” you leaned down, lips ghosting his parted ones, “don’t just settle for your hand.” His lips finally met yours in a heated kiss. The built up tension from his days of pining and yours of teasing finally being released in that kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss, slipping your tongue inside and drinking in all his pleasured groans. 

“Wanna go back to my room?” You asked after pulling away. 

“Nah, too far. Let’s go inside my tent.” You happily agreed and hurried inside, zipping it up behind Daryl. His mouth was back on yours in an instant, passionately exploring it with his tongue. He kissed his way down to your neck, roughly sucking marks. 

“Oh, Daryl!” You shouted when he reached a certain spot on your neck, just beneath your ear. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. Nervously, Daryl’s hand experimented with touching your body, his hands firmly gripping your hips. They were comfortable there and not daring enough to try anything else. He wanted to impress you, but at the same time he didn’t want you to notice that he had no clue what he was doing or what to do next, using the pirated porn and one night stands of his past as reference. Your hands grabbed his and placed them on your tits. 

“Touch me, Daryl!” You whined. His hands groped and kneaded at the soft mounds of flesh hidden behind the thin fabric of your dress. He pulled down the front of your dress, freeing your tits then recapturing one by putting it in his mouth. His large hand toyed with the right while his mouth suckled the other. Your little wanton whimpers egged him on, giving him the confidence to try more. Your squirmed beneath him, squeezing your thighs together. His cock was also painfully hard, once again, and yearning to feel your warm walls around him. He pulled away and undid his pants before pulling out his cock, stroking it a few times. He looked up at you, but you looked less excited. Your eyes wouldn’t meet his and your arms were crossed over your chest, hiding yourself from him. 

“Wha’s the matter, Sunshine?” He asked, the nickname rolling of his tongue naturally. He was more than excited to sleep with you, but his worry regarding your sudden change outweighed that. 

“N-nothin’. Jus’ put it in,” you said hoarsely. 

“Nah, we ain’ doin’ nothin’ unless ya tell me wha’s wrong.” It sounded harsh, but it came from a place of genuine concern. 

You sat up, readjusting your dress as you did so. “I-it’s jus’,” you nervously fiddled with the hem of your dress, something Daryl noticed you did a lot around him. “C-can we go slow? I haven’t done any of this stuff before,” you admitted. 

“You a virgin?” He asked, astonished. You glumly nodded your head as if you were accepting defeat. In a twisted way, that relieved him a bit. Maybe since you’ve never had sex, you wouldn’t notice his own lack of experience.  He put himself in his boxers before patting the spot in front of him. You crawled over to him and sat between his legs, your back against his chest. His lips found that spot on your neck again and began sucking there as his hand slid underneath your panties. He rubbed your clit in tight circles, causing your thighs to clamp shut over his hand. 

“Jus’ relax,” he coaxed. You relaxed the best you could, but the pleasure kept you from staying still. 

“F-faster,” you whimpered. He obeyed your command, rubbing you at a quicker pace. Your head fell back against his shoulder and you moaned in his ear. His other hand slipped beneath your panties and gathered your arousal on his finger, before he slowly slid it inside you, giving you time to adjust. He pumped it in and out of you as he continued to rub your clit. Your back arched off him as you moaned his name. He easily slipped in a second finger with how wet you were. Your velvety walls were so soft around his thick digits. He couldn’t wait to feel them with his cock. He moved his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion, hitting you in a spot that had you babbling nonsense. You squeezed his fingers with your soaking cunt as your first orgasm overtook your body. 

“Daryl, I’m ready. Need ta feel ya inside me,” you slurred. He helped you lay down on your back and slid your panties off before pulling his painfully hard cock out again. Your legs rested over his thighs as he coated his member in your juices before lining it up with your entrance. He slid in as slowly as he could, making sure this would be as painless as it could be for you. You were so soft, slippery, and smooth around him, the best pussy he’s ever had. Once he was all the way in, he stopped to give you time to adjust. He leaned down and connected your lips in another kiss, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled held him close. 

“You can move now.” His hands gripped your hips as he started slowly thrusting in and out of you, not wanting to give you too much too soon. His pleasured grunts mingled with your moans as he slid in and out of you. 

“More, need more!” You whined. He adjusted your position, placing your legs over his broad shoulders. The new position allowed him to fill you even better. As he pounded in and out of you, the erotic sounds of damp skin slapping damp skin filled the tent, harmonizing with his and your sounds of pleasure. He lifted your dress over your head, getting rid of the barrier between you and him, and tossed it aside. His own fantasies came true as he watched your tits bounce in unison with his thrusts. He took them in his hands again, rolling your nipples between his finger and thumb, bringing you closer to your climax. 

“Daryl I think I’ma-” Your sentence trailed off into a moan as you came around his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm as his own approached. He pulled out of you just as he was about to finish and came all over your tits and stomach, like a firehose. You let out a satisfied hum, barely able to keep your eyes open. He grabbed one of his discarded shirts and cleaned you off before laying beside you in the sleeping bag. You rolled over to face him and hugged him close in your arms. 

“You were the best first I coulda asked for,” you confessed. Your words soothed his worries that he didn’t perform well enough while also making his heart flutter.

“Guess all yer teasin’ paid off.” You giggled against his chest. 

 He pulled you closer to him and pulled you in for another kiss, a sweeter, gentler one this time. You dozed off in his comforting arms, wishing you’d never have to leave. 

i proofread it, yaaay! anyway, thanks for reading! <3

i wrote this instead of doing my homework, mwahahahah >=]

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[harryspurpleloofah]

A Taste of You Instead

Picture is most definitely not mine ‼️‼️‼️

Summary: y/n is a chef who travels the world working in little restaurants and having her own pop up stands at festivals. She ends up having to stay in the villa because of an emergency and her and Harry come down to get water at the same time and end up hooking up.

Warnings: start and end are just fluffy, p in v sex with protection (use protection guys), nipple play, no one really plays the role of a Dom or a sub, subtle flirting between y/n and Harry the entire time, tit sucking

Mr and Mrs Lowe owned a beautiful holiday villa in the Bahamas. It was complete with a private chef who they had hired about a week ago for the high profile guests coming to stay. It was Harry Styles. With his guitarist Mitch and his drummer Sarah. Their son Arlo was with Mitch’s mother back in England. They’d also brought their mutual friend Pauli so Harry wouldn’t be third wheeling.

The whole group was buzzing with excitement, voices overlapping as they scattered throughout the villa to pick rooms. The air smelled of salt and sunscreen, a reminder of how far away they were from real life.

“Is this real?” Sarah called out from upstairs, her voice echoing. “I think this bathroom is bigger than my flat!”

“Dibs the room with the outdoor shower!” Pauli shouted, already halfway down the hall.

Mitch, less concerned about claiming a space, threw himself onto the oversized couch in the living room, right next to Harry. He grabbed the sleek brochure that had been left on the coffee table, flipping through it casually.

“Check this out,” Mitch said, holding it up so Harry could see. The cover had a photo of the villa bathed in golden light, with a caption that read, ‘An Exclusive Escape: Your Paradise Awaits.’

Harry leaned over, squinting at the text. “They really went all in on the marketing, huh?”

Mitch chuckled, turning a page. “It’s not just the house. They’ve got this whole... experience thing planned. Private yoga sessions, snorkeling tours, and—” he paused, raising an eyebrow, “a one-night ‘luxury dining experience’ with a personal chef. Fancy.”

Harry let out a laugh, shaking his head. “That doesn’t sound like us at all.”

“Speak for yourself, mate. I fully intend to live like a billionaire this week.” Mitch grinned, tossing the brochure back onto the table. “Who do you think the chef is? Like... a real one from a show or something?”

Harry shrugged, leaning back “Don’t know. Probably some bloke who makes tiny portions look pretty.”

A soft but deliberate ahem cut through the air behind him. Harry froze, Mitch’s eyes widened slightly as he looked past him.

Harry turned slowly, his gaze landing on her. She stood in the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised.

“Not a bloke,” she said simply, her voice calm but with a hint of teasing, “and the portions will be perfectly sized, thank you very much.”

“Right..sorry about that.” Harry smiled apologetically and ran a hand through his hair.

She smiled back, “don’t worry. Mr and Mrs Lowe just asked me to drop by and make sure you guys have settled in well. Any problems?”

Sarah comes back just then with Pauli, his face in a pout, “there’s no hot water from the sink.”

Y/n’s eyebrows furrow as she thinks for a second, “huh. Shouldn’t be a problem. Did you leave it running for a bit? Takes a bit of time.”

“Yeah for a good few minutes.”

“Alright. I’ll ask someone about that and have it fixed for you.”

“Thanks so much.”

Her gaze switches back to Harry, “now if that’s all I’ll see you guys at dinner tonight. And it’ll just be me no bloke with tiny portions.”

Harry winces in apology at being reminded once again of his mistake.

As Y/N turned back toward the kitchen, the group lingered in the living room, a little quieter than before. Sarah raised an eyebrow at Harry, clearly trying to suppress a grin.

“‘Probably some bloke,’ huh?” she teased, plopping onto the couch opposite him. “You’re off to a stellar start.”

Harry leaned back, crossing his arms defensively, though his cheeks betrayed him with a faint flush. “I didn’t know she was there,” he muttered.

She doesn’t seem like the type to hold a grudge,” Sarah offered, smiling.

At dinner, the patio was set with a long wooden table under a canopy of string lights, the sea breeze carrying the scent of fresh herbs and sizzling garlic from the open kitchen. The group was buzzing with excitement as they sat down, wine glasses clinking and laughter filling the air.

Y/N emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray, setting down the first dish with practiced ease. “Tonight’s menu is a little taste of the Mediterranean,” she said, her voice calm but warm. She explained the dish, a roasted red pepper and goat cheese tart without missing a beat, her eyes skimming the group until they landed on Harry.

“Not too small, I hope,” she added with a sly smile.

Harry sighs at the subtle jab at his earlier comment before chuckling, “alright that was a bad move. I’m sorry.”

She smiles softly, “enjoy your food guys.”

Dinner had stretched into an easy, flowing evening, laughter filling the air as everyone sat back and enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere. By the time Y/N had cleared the last of the dishes and wiped down the kitchen counters, it was well past 11, and she was starting to feel the weight of the day.

She’d tried calling her usual driver earlier, but he’d canceled because of an emergency, and now, every taxi app she tried only showed unavailable drivers. She frowned at her phone, frustration building

“Still here?” Sarah’s voice interrupted her thoughts as she appeared in the kitchen doorway, a glass of wine in her hand. She looked at Y/N with a small smile. “Everything alright?”

She glanced up, showing her phone to Sarah with a frustrated sigh. “My driver canceled hours ago, and now there’s no way to get a car out here. I was thinking of walking down to the path, but I can’t get anything close”

Sarah’s face twisted into concern. “Wait, what? Walk down the path? It’s pitch black out there. You’re not doing that.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I wasn’t planning on going on a hike, just needed to get to the main road and hope for a cab.”

But Sarah protested “No way. It’s way too late and it’s not safe.”

Pauli came into the kitchen, “What’s going on? Is someone trying to leave in the middle of the night?”

Y/N shrugged, holding up her phone. “Just trying to figure out how to get home. My ride bailed, and now it’s too late to get a replacement.”

Pauli shook his head. “Not on my watch. I don’t care if you’ve got a time machine, you’re not walking down that path to the main road alone, and that’s final.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, Pauli. I’ve done worse.”

Mitch, always the quiet one, stepped into the room and leaned against the doorframe with his usual laid-back vibe “You sure about that?” he asked glancing at the clock. “It’s getting late. Maybe you should just stay the night.”

Y/N hesitated, glancing between them. “I don’t want to intrude. It’s your getaway. You didn’t sign up for a surprise roommate.”

“Nonsense. You’re basically our friend now. Besides you’ve already done enough for one day you gave us a lovely dinner.”

“She’s right.”

Harry stood in the doorway, his presence effortlessly commanding. His sweatpants and t-shirt were simple, but the way he carried himself made them look intentional, almost tailored. His hair was slightly tousled, and he held a bottle of water loosely in one hand.

“You don’t even know what’s happening.”

Harry stepped further into the room, his smile soft but sure. “I don’t need all the details. Just heard you’re thinking about heading out on your own this late, and that’s not happening.”

“You make it sound like I don’t have a choice,” Y/N said, tilting her head.

“You don’t,” he replied easily, leaning one hip against the counter. “Not because anyone’s forcing you, but because it’d be ridiculous. There’s more than enough space here, and I’m pretty sure none of us want to wake up to a news story about someone wandering down an unlit road in the middle of nowhere getting hurt.”

Pauli nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly. ‘Chef disappears into the abyss’ is not a headline we’re aiming for.”

Y/N glanced at the others, then back at Harry, whose gaze was steady but relaxed. “And if I insist on leaving?”

Harry smiled, his tone light but firm. “Then we’ll insist you stay. It’s a holiday—it’s supposed to be easy, remember?”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re awfully persistent.”

“It’s a skill,” he replied smoothly, his grin widening. “One night, Y/N. You’ll thank us in the morning.”

“Fine,” she said with a playful sigh, throwing her hands up. “But only because it’s easier than arguing.”

“Smart choice,” Mitch said with a small smile.

The villa was quiet, its sprawling layout and darkened hallways lending a hushed intimacy to the late hour. Y/N crept down the stairs barefoot, her silk pajama pants brushing lightly against her legs. She hadn’t meant to stay up this late, but the weight of the day had settled in her chest, leaving her restless.

Water. That was her excuse. She needed water.

When she entered the kitchen, she stopped short.

Harry was already there, standing by the counter in loose black sweatpants and a white t-shirt, the hem brushing his hips. His hair was an unruly mess, like he’d been tossing and turning before deciding sleep wasn’t worth the fight. He was mid-sip from a glass of water when he noticed her.

“Midnight cravings?” he asked, his voice low, the kind of quiet you only hear when the rest of the world is asleep.

“Just thirsty” she replied, stepping further into the room. “Didn’t think anyone else would be up.”

“Me neither.” He set his glass down and leaned against the counter, his hip jutting out just enough to make it look effortless. “Guess we’re both full of surprises.”

She went to the sink, reaching for a glass from the cupboard. She filled it slowly, her movements deliberate. “You always wander around this late?”

“Sometimes,” he said, watching her with an easy smile. “Hard to turn off the brain y’know?”

She nodded, turning to face him. “Yeah. I get that.”

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the silence stretching but never uncomfortable. The kitchen, dimly lit by a single overhead bulb, felt almost too small, the air thick between them.

“You seem more awake than I’d expect for someone who’s had a long day,” he said, tilting his head slightly, his green eyes sharp but warm.

Y/N shrugged, lifting her glass. “Water’s magic.”

He laughed softly, the sound rumbling low in his chest. “That what they say?”

“That’s what I say,” she said back, taking a sip.

Harry stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, closing the space between them. “You always this quick on your feet?”

“Occupational hazard,” she replied, her voice steady even as her pulse quickened.

“Impressive,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to her lips for just a fraction of a second before meeting her eyes again.

The shift in the air was palpable, like the pause before a storm. Y/N felt her breath hitch as he reached out, his hand brushing hers where she held the glass.

“You’re really hardworking y’know?,” he said softly, his voice dipping lower. “I like that.”

“Is that right?” she replied, arching a brow, her fingers still wrapped around the glass even as his lingered on hers.

“Yeah. Ambitious and..driven. It’s refreshing.”

She should’ve said something clever. She should’ve stepped back, put space between them. But instead, she stayed where she was, her gaze locked with his.

“I don’t think this is the kind of conversation most people have at this hour,” she said, her voice quieter now, almost a whisper.

Harry’s smile deepened, his dimples making a brief but devastating appearance. “Guess I’m not most people.”

And then he was closer, the glass forgotten as he set it down on the counter. His fingers brushed against her wrist, his touch featherlight, but it sent a spark racing up her arm.

“Is this usually how your late night kitchen runs go?” she asked, her voice steady despite the heat blooming in her chest.

“Not really but I’ll make an exception.”

Y/N barely had time to process his words before he leaned in, his lips brushing hers. It was soft at first almost testing, but when she didn’t pull away, it deepened. His hand slid to her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss grew hungrier.

She let the glass slip from her fingers, the sound of it landing on the counter distant and unimportant. Her hands found their way to his chest, the soft cotton of his shirt bunching beneath her fingers as she clung to him.Harry’s breath hitched as he pressed her back against the counter, his body warm and solid against hers. His hands explored her sliding from her waist to her hips then back up to her jaw.

Y/N’s hands fisted in his shirt pulling him closer, her body instinctively arching toward him as the cool counter pressed against her back. She felt the warmth of his body seep through the thin fabric, the hard lines of his chest against her palms making her head spin.

He shifted slightly, his knee brushing against her leg as he slotted himself between her thighs. The motion was unhurried, but the weight of him was unmistakable. His hand slipped from her waist to her hip, his thumb pressing into the curve there, grounding her even as the heat between them grew.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” he murmured against her lips his voice low and gravelly, his breath hot against her skin.

Her response was immediate, her voice steady despite the way her pulse thundered. “I’m not telling you to stop.”

Harry pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his green eyes searching hers for any sign of hesitation. When he found none, his lips quirked into a crooked smile, one that made her stomach flip.

“Good,” he whispered, his voice a velvet promise.

His lips trailed down her jaw to her neck, where he lingered nipping lightly at the sensitive skin there. Y/N’s head tilted back, a soft gasp escaping her as his hands slid under the hem of her shirt, his touch searing against her bare skin.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice rough but steady, his fingers pausing just above her waistline.

“Yes” she breathed, her own hands trailing down his torso, brushing against the waistband of his sweatpants.

His hands slipped beneath her top, skimming over her waist and ribs, his thumbs grazing the underside of her chest. He paused glancing at her, waiting for the slightest indication that she wanted him to stop.

When she arched into his touch instead, he let out a quiet groan his lips finding hers again as his hands moved higher, his thumbs brushing over her sensitive skin.

One of his hands trailed down her side, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of her pajama pants. He paused again, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “Still okay?”

“Yes,” she replied, her voice firm, though her breath hitched as his hand slid lower, his fingers exploring with a confidence that left her dizzy.

Her hips shifted instinctively, seeking more of his touch, and Harry obliged, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring every reaction he pulled from her.

Harry’s lips were relentless his hands moving with practiced precision, sliding up under her pajama top to cup her breasts fully. His thumbs brushed over her hardened peaks, drawing a gasp from her. Her hips bucked against his instinctively the ache low in her belly becoming unbearable.

“Sensitive aren’t you?” he murmured. He dipped his head to her neck again, nipping the delicate skin, tugging her top up and over her head in one swift motion.

“You talk too much,” she shot back, her voice breathless but steady, her hands tugging at his shirt in retaliation.

He smirked, pulling back just enough to help her peel it off him, revealing the toned planes of his chest and the tattoos scattered across his skin. Her eyes lingered for a moment, taking him in.

Their mouths crashed together, all teeth and tongues now, their earlier teasing giving way to raw, unfiltered need.

Harry’s hands slid down her sides, hooking into the waistband of her pants and pulling them down in one smooth motion. His palms trailed back up her thighs, spreading them as he stepped between her legs again.

“You’re gorgeous,” he breathed, his voice low. His hands gripped her thighs, pulling her to the edge of the counter, and the cool marble against her bare skin only heightened the heat pooling between her legs.

His fingers traced up her inner thigh. He groaned low in his throat at the feel of her, leaning in to press a kiss just below her ear. “So wet already,” he murmured, his voice dripping with approval.

Her response was a whimper as his fingers began to circle her in slow, deliberate motions, teasing and testing what made her writhe against him. Her head fell back, her hands clutching at his shoulders for balance as her breathing grew ragged.

“Harry,” she gasped, her voice cracking on his name.

“That’s it, love,” he muttered, his lips traveling down her chest, his tongue flicking over a hardened peak before he took it into his mouth. His free hand gripped her waist to steady her as his fingers worked her over, building her higher and higher until she was on the edge.

“Please” she whimpered, her nails digging into his shoulders as her hips moved against his hand.

“What do you need?” he asked, his voice a low rasp as he pulled back just enough to look at her.

“You” she said simply, her gaze locking with his, her cheeks flushed and lips parted.

“Hold on,” he murmured, his voice rough but full of care.

She blinked up at him, her own breathing uneven, and watched as he stepped back slightly, his hands reluctantly leaving her body. He reached for his sweatpants, which had been discarded hastily on the floor, and pulled a small foil packet from one of the pockets.

“Just gotta be careful yeah?”, he smiles at her.

She watches him put the condom on and nods.

Harry gripped her thighs, pulling her against him. Their eyes stayed locked as he aligned himself with her, pausing just long enough to let her adjust to the feel of him.

The first thrust stole the air from her lungs, and Harry groaned, his head dropping to her shoulder as he began to move. His pace was measured at first, but it quickly became clear that neither of them was interested in restraint.

“You feel so good,” he murmured against her skin, his voice barely audible over their shared rhythm.

Her reply was incoherent, a mix of moans and whimpers as her release built to a breaking point.

You’re stunning,” he said, the words tumbling out like he couldn’t stop them if he tried.

Y/N let out a small laugh, “Flattery gets you nowhere Harry.”

“Doesn’t feel like nowhere,” he countered, his hands gripping her thighs as he pulled her to the edge of the counter. “Feels like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.”

Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, “God you’re so big..” he gripped her thighs to hold her steady. The sound of their bodies smacking together filled the kitchen, mingling with their ragged breaths and soft moans.

He pulled back, almost completely, before thrusting forward again pounding his cock deeper into her, the motion deliberate and slow. His hips snapping against hers with more urgency, each thrust driving deeper, harder. The sound of their bodies meeting filled the room.

Her cries grew louder as she reached the edge, her body arching into him as the tension inside her snapped. Her release hit her like a tidal wave, leaving her shaking and clinging to him, her nails digging into his back.

Harry followed moments later, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep a guttural groan escaping him as he came undone. His grip on her hips tightened, holding her close as he spilled into her, his body trembling with the force of it.

Their breaths mingled in the quiet of the kitchen, both of them still trembling slightly as they came down from the orgasm. Harry stayed close, his body pressed against hers, his hands gently smoothing over her sides as if grounding them both.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice soft and low, the usual cheeky edge replaced with genuine care.

Y/N nodded, her fingers brushing through the damp curls at the nape of his neck. “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice still a little shaky. “You?”

“Better than okay” he said, pressing a tender kiss to her shoulder. He eased back, his green eyes scanning her face, searching for any sign of discomfort.

When he was satisfied, he carefully slipped away, helping her down from the counter. She wobbled slightly, and his hands were instantly at her waist, steadying her with a gentle smile.

She watched as he went to get a glass of water and a clean dish towel. Settling beside her, he handed her the glass, his hand resting lightly on her thigh.

“Drink,” he urged softly.

She took a sip, the cool water soothing against her throat. Meanwhile, Harry unfolded the towel, dampened with warm water, and began gently cleaning her up. His movements were tender his eyes flickering to hers every so often to make sure she was comfortable.

After a while, Y/N shifted slightly in Harry’s arms, reluctantly pulling herself upright. “I should probably... you know, head up,” she said softly, glancing toward the staircase.

Harry’s arms tightened around her for a moment before he let her go, a crooked smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, probably a good idea,” he agreed, though the reluctance in his voice mirrored her own.

She stood, smoothing down her borrowed t-shirt, one of Sarah’s from earlier and glanced back at him as he leaned back against the couch. His hair was a mess of soft curls, his face flushed and glowing in the low light, and his sweatpants hung low on his hips. He looked far too good for someone who’d just spent the last hour being utterly wrecked.

He caught her staring and raised a brow, that effortless charm creeping back into his expression. “What? Already miss me?”

She rolled her eyes, biting back a grin. “Hardly,” she said, though the warmth in her voice gave her away.

Harry stood too, stretching slightly before stepping closer. “I’ll walk you up,” he offered, his voice softer now.

“I can manage,” she replied, but there was no real protest in her tone.

Together, they padded up the stairs, their bare feet barely making a sound on the wooden steps. The villa was quiet, save for the faint rustling of palm trees outside.

Soon it was the group’s last day at the villa. Y/N hadn’t stayed over every single night but the time she’d spent with them was savored by them all and they’d definitely miss her.

The late afternoon sun spilled through the villa’s open windows, casting golden light over the long dining table where Harry and his friends sat, their plates filled with the last meal Y/N had prepared for them. The air buzzed with lighthearted chatter and laughter, the group savoring both the food and the company.

“You’ve outdone yourself again, Y/N,” Sarah said, setting her fork down with a satisfied sigh. “I don’t think I’ll ever enjoy a regular sandwich again.”

“Agreed” Mitch added, raising his glass in a silent toast to her.

Pauli leaned back in his chair, a mischievous grin on his face. “What’s the secret? Is it the knife skills, the seasoning, or just pure magic?”

“Third one.” She responded while smiling as she made her way over to start to gather the plates.

Harry watched her from across the table, a soft smile playing on his lips. She moved with an effortless grace, her presence brightening the room just as much as the sunshine pouring in.

After lunch, the group lingered for a while, lounging on the couches and soaking up the last moments of their holiday. Eventually, though, the time came to start packing up, and the air grew tinged with the bittersweet weight of goodbyes.

Out on the front porch, their bags gathered near the waiting car, Sarah enveloped Y/N in a warm hug. “Thank you for everything,” she said earnestly. “You’ve been amazing.”

Pauli was next, wrapping Y/N in a dramatic bear hug that made her laugh. “If I’m ever in a food coma again, I’m blaming you,” he said, winking as he stepped back.

Finally, Harry stepped forward, his hands in his pockets and his smile soft but radiant. “They’re not wrong, you know,” he said, his voice low. “You’ve been incredible.”

“And you guys have all been lovely guests.” She replied.

Harry chuckled, pulling his phone from his pocket. “So, uh,” he started, holding it out to her. “Any chance I could get your number? For... you know, culinary emergencies.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, but her smile widened as she took his phone and punched in her number. “Only if you promise not to text me at three in the morning asking for pancake recipes,” she said, handing it back to him.

“No promises,” he replied, his grin boyish and charming as he glanced down at his phone.

The car honked softly, breaking the moment, and Harry gave her a small, reluctant nod. “Guess that’s my cue,” he said, his voice tinged with regret.

“Guess so,” she replied, her chest tightening just a bit as he stepped back.

As the car pulled away, Y/N stood on the porch, waving as they disappeared down the winding drive. The villa felt quieter already, the absence of their lively energy palpable.

She glanced down at her phone, the screen lighting up with a new message: "Thanks again, Chef. Hope this isn’t goodbye."

A soft smile spread across her lips, and she typed out a quick reply: "Not goodbye. Just see you later."