#Summer Sway free

[monamipencil]

── (𝗦)𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠 ! ft. mingyu

⛧ synopsis; you like to scare your fuckbuddy as much as you like to hide your feelings from him. — first fic of lola's spooktober

⛧ pairings; fuckbuddy! mingyu x fem! reader ⛧ genre; smut, fluff, humor, fwbs to lovers ⛧ w.c; 3.7k+ ⛧ warnings; mentions of blood (not involved in smut and not too gory), mentions of food, brat taming, spanking, unprotected sex, MINGYU IN A CROP TOP, oral (m. & f. receiving), (s)creaming (duh), rough sex, creampie, reader can be picked up, jealousy, they're both emotionally constipated, i'm sorry to all emilys lmao, reader is TERRIFIED of feelings (that's the horror) ⛧ a/n; oh my god, one fic is finished. 12 more to go 💀 hope you guys like this lmao

ring, ring. ring, ring.

mingyu casts a glance towards the telephone, still continuing to chop up the vegetables.

“fuck!” mingyu yelps, quickly retrieving his left hand from the cutting board. a drop of blood trickles down his hand from the fresh cut. he mutters another curse and runs some water on his hand.

ring, ring.

with a roll of his eyes, he turns off the tap and moves to pick up the call. “hello?” he mutters, observing his wound.

he frowns into the receiver when the line stays silent. he sucks on the cut, more preoccupied with it than whoever the caller was. he waits a couple of seconds before hanging up.

a pair of hands push his back, causing him to turn around. he screams, finding a figure clad in a black robe and a mask with a knife. he crouches and covers himself, trembling with fear. as if that'd prevent him from getting murdered.

you grow soft, immediately regretting your decision to prank him. you take off the mask, and discard it along with the knife. you stretch your hand to touch him, to let him know that it's just you.

and now, you're pinned to the countertop, hands tied behind. the cold tile digs into your back and you watch as mingyu's face contorts from anger to confusion to relief and finally disappointment.

laughter pours from your lips, filling the walls of his apartment. the gentle hum of the heater mixes with the light pitter-patter of the raindrops on the window panes. yellow leaves sway through the wind, fluttering through the sky.

summer fades into autumn, settling for a melancholic disposition instead of the cheery spirit. your relationship with mingyu also changes along with the seasons.

though you agreed for a no-strings-attached relationship, it was impossible to control your feelings. falling in love with mingyu was inevitable and maybe it was obvious too. but who would give up any chance to fuck the kim mingyu?

“god, you suck!”

he pouts, and frees your arms from his grip. his annoyed expression only prompts you to laugh more. he rolls his eyes but there's a smile on his lips. you place your hands on his waist—oh.

your fingers graze the bare skin of his abdomen, and you ogle him with a smirk. he adorns a white crop top with a pair of blue sweatpants. your eyes snap to his but he averts them. a shy smile graces his lips, a telltale sign that he's blushing.

you lean and whisper into his ears, “and you love it.”

he scoffs and you push him away but not before you pinch his waist. a yelp erupts from his throat and you jog away from him before he could return the favor.

the mask and the knife catch your eyes, prompting you to put them away somewhere else. and obviously, you make a show of bending over, knowing that he's watching. it doesn't take much to rile mingyu. a pair of low-hanging gray sweats and a short crop top is enough.

“you really wore that?” you see him take out his first aid box and he flashes you a glance before sorting through the box. “in this weather?”

“shit, what happened?” you ask, approaching him with worry as he peels a band aid. you click your tongue, observing the wound on his right forefinger. you help him stick the band aid, and scold him for his carelessness.

“don't dodge the question.”

“i'm not dodging shit,”

“you are.”

“talk to the hand!” you show him your hand and walk away, placing the mask and the fake knife in a safer place. you hear a scoff from his side and wiggle your butt in response.

“where'd you even get that?” his breath hits your neck and you freeze at the proximity. when the fuck did he even follow you?

“wh-what?” you muffle a gasp when he presses his boner against your ass. blood rushes to your cunt, and it throbs with need. soon, he's pressing his entire body weight on yours. he rests his head on your shoulders and his hands wander to the graze the skin of your stomach. goosebumps erupt all over your skin.

“i asked, where did you get that?” his tone sends a shiver down your spine, right to your core. “did you already go dumb?” he sneaks his hand past your sweats, toying with the waistband of your panties.

“bet you're wet too.” a low chuckle emits from him when you squeeze your thighs, affirming him.

“from the-the store next to our usual video store.” you whisper, voice barely audible. he hums, pulling away from you. your back feels cold, and you want to pull him back and glue yourself to him.

he turns you around in his embrace and grabs the mask. he slips it on, and tilts his head at you. you watch him do so, paralyzed in your place. next, he takes hold of the fake knife. a gasp leaves your lips when he snaps into two and discards it with a nonchalant shrug.

he takes off the mask, and tosses it somewhere. you see a sliver of what is lurking behind his brown irises. and it makes you throb all the harder. your arousal drips down, sticking to your panties. heat licks your skin when he eyes you, as if you're a piece of meat, waiting to be devoured.

he snaps the waistband of your sweats and you flinch. “brat.” he hisses through his teeth, right into your ear. he nibbles on your earlobe, and sniffs you like a hound dog.

he pulls away from you, setting his dark eyes on your wide ones. your panties stick to your core like second skin. the cool tile of the counter is soothing against your sweltering skin. mingyu's scent invites you in, making your head dizzy.

he steps back again and you rush to fill the gap between you and him. a condescending chuckle resonates from his chest as he grabs hold of your hips, his nails digging into your soft skin. he leans down, sniffing your neck once again. this time, he traces your skin with his teeth.

the sensation makes goosebumps erupt all over your skin. then, he sinks his teeth in. sharp canines dig into your jugular, right into your vein. he doesn't release you, continuing to mark you his. and when the blood flows back to your heart, it will be poisoned with his essence and your heart will beat to the rhythm of his name.

once he's satisfied, he licks the mark. a proud smirk tugs at his lip as he observes his work. he meets your eyes, worried by your silence. but your glazed eyes and parted lips reassure him.

for the first time tonight, his lips meets yours. they're soft, warm and the taste of his chapstick greets your tongue when you lick his lips. he lets you in. your tongue glides over his in a warm, wet kiss.

hooking your arm around his neck, you pull him in closer. your right leg rides up, resting on his hips. his hand hooks beneath your other leg and he swiftly lifts you. you gasp into his mouth and he takes advantage of it, deepening the kiss.

mingyu is invasive. in the best way possible.

he loves exploring the crooks and nooks of your body. his curious hands and wide eyes flusters you always. his tongue traces the ridges of your teeth and the veins underneath your tongue. he plops you on the couch and moves to get rid of his crop top.

sweat glistens on his exposed abdomen. you're tempted to run your tongue on his abs, rake your nails on them and leave the prettiest marks on him. soon, the cloth falls on the ground, leaving mingyu in his half naked glory.

as much as you wish to kiss his abs and pecs, you know he wouldn't allow it. and you don't even want to consider the possibility of a punishment. though, it lights your skin aflame with excitement, you want to get this over with and get him inside you already.

he cards his hand through his hair and licks his lips, gazing down at you with his deep, dark eyes. your pussy throbs when you notice the huge bulge in his pants. you almost let out an embarrassing moan but you bite your lips, containing yourself.

mingyu is quick, tugging both your pants and underwear down in one go. but he does something you did not expect.

“but-but i didn't do anything!” you squeal as he bends you over his lap. his thick thighs are spread on the couch and you’re over his lap with your ass up. mingyu's large hand kneads your ass, preparing you for your ‘punishment.’

“mingyu, i didn't do shit. leav—”

a loud smack echoes through the walls of his apartment followed by a quick cry. you snatch a pillow from the couch and bite it to quieten your moans and cries.

“you don't want me to show skin in public but you can slut yourself out to everyone? huh?”

another spank. this time to your other cheek. you release the pillow frantically to give him an answer. but he shuts you down, “did i give permission to talk?”

you muffle your cries with the pillow again as he continues to spank you. you hate that you get so wet when he spanks you. and you also hate that he knows how much it turns you on. mingyu spreads your ass, fingers brushing your core to tease you.

you shiver as he ghosts his thumb over your core, whimpering like a bitch in heat. “oh fuck,” his deep timbre voice reaches you along with the wet noises of his fingers burying inside your pussy.

he pulls out, observing his slick-coated fingers. “god, you're so fucking wet.”

you moan into the pillow and turn your head to see him licking his fingers clean. you mistake his momentary distraction as the end of your punishment. you wiggle under his grip, trying to free yourself when he delivers another slap to your ass.

“don't remember telling that you can move.” he hisses, self-restraint dissolving as the time passes. he takes deep breaths, trying to control himself. trying not to split you open right then and there.

it's a lost cause though. all it takes is one look at your sopping cunt for him to break. he swiftly moves, settling you on the couch before he kneels on the floor. mingyu doesn't say anything, diving right away into your cunt.

he holds your legs apart, devouring you like a starved man. the sounds of his tongue meeting your cunt fills your ears, bringing you the utmost pleasure. he doesn't care to be neat and tidy. your arousal drips down his chin as he coats your pussy with his saliva.

his nose brushes against your clit, pleasuring you. he sucks and slurps at your hole, like a dog thirsting for water. he gives your cunt a few long licks before he occupies himself with your clit. his soft lips wrap around your clit, sucking it with fervor.

it overwhelms you and drives you to the edge. your legs tremble under his hold. though you know what's gonna happen, you stay wishful and moan. “'m gonna cum!”

mingyu can turn anything into a punishment. you regret saying the words when he stops and pulls away. he looks divine, you think. with your arousal coating his lips and chin, hair messed up and falling in front of his eyes. and of course, his eyes that hold an ancient hunger and lust.

you watch as he leans down and presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh. soon after, his teeth sinks in. a breathy moan leaves you. the pressure of his teeth on your skin heightens your pleasure. he pulls away when he's satisfied and licks the mark.

“mm, i wanna cum, gyu.” your voice trembles as he ascends upon you. his brown eyes seem to have changed a shade darker and they swirl with an emotion that you can't pinpoint. but it's enough to send shivers down your spine.

“bad girls don't get to cum, remember?” terror settles in your bones, listening to his deep octave voice.

“but-but, mingyu—” before you finish your sentence, he throws you over his shoulders, landing a slap to your ass in the process. you yelp but let him have his way.

he moves to his bedroom, turning on the lights with one hand before he tosses you on the bed. he removes your top and does the same with his pants and boxers. he roughly manhandles you and it makes your cunt all wet and soppy again. he flips you on your fours and mounts on top of you. 

his warm chest presses against your back. you feel his heart beat on your back and yours beat in sync with his, a melody of aching and yearning. you've grown to love this position with mingyu. it's intimate but still gives you privacy to hide your feelings. it stops you from gutting yourself and giving him your beating heart.

you think if you were ever to rip your heart out and give it to him, it'd still beat. as long as he holds it, it will beat.

his cock grazes your inner thigh and you arch your back, making it easier for him. his tip grazes your clit as he positions himself. you grow needier as the seconds pass, wanting nothing but for him to fill you and spli— “shit, condom.”

“just—just fuck me!”

he doesn't listen, moving to grab a condom from his night table. he knows you like it raw, and that he's the only person to have fucked you raw too. exactly why he's wearing a condom—to punish you.

he tears the packet open with his teeth and pulls the condom out. mingyu pulls you to the edge of the bed, silently asking you to slip the condom on him. you oblige but with a pout and sad eyes.

you spit on his cock and rub it all over his length. pumping his cock a few times, you kiss the tip. the taste of his precum on your lips makes you forget what you were supposed to. instead, you wrap your lips around his tip, and suck him off.

“fuck,” he groans, losing himself in the warmth of your mouth. but he snaps out of it quickly, and pulls your lips off him. “did i ask you to do that?”

your pretty eyes staring up at him, makes it harder for him to hold his composure. your eyes are glossy and yearning swirls within your irises. your lips are swollen, coated with his precum and your spit.

a small smile decorates his lips when you pout and roll the condom on him. there's it again, the weird feeling in his chest. he presses his lips into a thin line, hiding his smile when your eyes dart to his face.

mingyu doesn't waste time and flips you over. you're bent over the edge of the bed, the soft duvet is cold against your burning skin. he uses one of his hands to pin your arms behind your back. the other guides his cock into your cunt.

it isn't a tough task to enter you, considering how wet your cunt is. he easily slides in, your gummy walls giving him a warm hug. you mewl and squirm as his length stretches you out. he takes a deep breath, trying to contain himself.

his other hand holds your hips, holding you down when he starts thrusting. he fucks you like an animal, hips meeting yours in a brutal pace. his balls hit your clit with every thrust, sending shivers of pleasure through your body.

he lets go of your hands to grip you better. he stops for a moment, angling himself better. then he snaps his hips. your hands fly to grip the duvet as a string of curses fall from your lips. the new angle lets him graze your sweet spot and it renders your body trembling with pleasure.

your mind blanks, any rational thought leaves you as mingyu abuses your hole. his tip kisses your insides with a fervor you've grown familiar with. your arousal drips down your trembling thighs and you grip the sheet tighter.

broken moans rumble from your throat. and they only get louder with each of his thrusts. the neighbors would surely knock on the door, complaining about the noise but you can't find it in yourself to care. especially when they think that you're his girlfriend, it sets you aflame. the prospect of being considered ‘his’ seems both horrifying and relieving.

something in you snaps and you push him off you. you turn to face a confused mingyu and push him on the bed. you take off his condom and discard it before mounting his figure. he falls back when you push him lightly.

you straddle his hips, holding yourself up slightly to take him inside you. you guide his cock inside you. it spills with precum and twitches in your hold. he moans, feeling your warm walls envelop his cock without the rubber. you move slowly at first, then pick up your pace.

pretty moans spill from your lips. his cock is buried deep inside you as you ride him. you grind your hip on his, chasing some friction on your little nub. adrenaline pumps through your blood, and a lust haze takes over your mind.

you start bouncing on his cock, riding him with all the strength you've got. his hands grips your hip, nail-shaped imprints forming on it under pressure. you love and treasure all forms of marks he leaves on you. the hickeys, the handprints, the nail marks. even the ones he leaves on your soul, your heart and mind.

“oh, mingyu.” you whisper, mouth wide open as you suck in sharp breaths. you grind down on him, spreading the sticky mess of your slick over him. he groans in response, sitting up to help you move.

he makes you ride him, using his strength to maneuver your hips. his lips attach to one of your nipples, tongue flicking on the bud in a calculated move. then he sucks fervently, heightening your pleasure. you move your hips with more enthusiasm at that.

you don't think that there's any part of you that mingyu hasn't touched and set it aflame. heat licks your skin with his every movement. and you only wish for this to never end. you pull him closer and closer, till it isn't physically possible.

he switches to your other bud, soft lips wrapping around the sensitive nub. he wets the hardened nipple, swirling his tongue around it and biting it ever-so-lightly to provide you just the right amount of pleasure.

mingyu knows you. inside out. he knows where, how and when to touch you. he knows what breakfast you like, your comfort movies, your favorite season, the reason why you don't like emily from down the street (technically, making him dislike her too).

but it seems he's oblivious to your feelings. or maybe you've done a really good job at hiding them. because the other day, mingyu asked who was your favorite person, and you blurted out ‘you.’ to your relief (and dismay), he laughed it off. you were glad hearts couldn't speak, because if they did, yours would scream his name with every beat.

you slow down your movements, overwhelmed by the sudden surge of your feelings. you tap on his shoulders, letting him take control. he lays you down on the bed, hands on either side of your head as he positions himself.

to your surprise, he moves slowly. the stroke of his hip knocks the breath out of your lungs. the thrust is so soft, it brings tears to your eyes. he continues the same damned pace while holding eye contact with you.

you want to scream at him, push him away, and run out of his apartment. what a horror is it to be looked at tenderly? to be held gently, as if you were porcelain?

warmth pools in your stomach and your breathing turns rapid. so does mingyu's. he twitches inside you, and you clench around him. it makes him gasp for breath, and you give him yours by pulling him in for a kiss. if he looks at you any longer, you might just cease to exist.

it seems that today is a horrifying day to you. even his lips are gentle on you. they lack the usual fervor, the animalistic nature. like his kisses were a warning that he might devour you open. but mingyu never expected you to lay yourself in front of him, asking him to rip you open with your arms held out.

the bed creaks gently, affirming you that this is real. yes, this is happening. no, you aren't dreaming of it.

another twitch, a clench and two moans in unison. mingyu cums inside you, painting your walls with white fluids. he continues to thrust, and the coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter. it snaps, and you climax with an intensity that leaves you trembling in his embrace. 

he collapses next to you on the bed and turns to lie on his back. his chest heaves, trying to suck in all the oxygen available. you do the same while staring at the ceiling along with him.

the clock ticks, and the pitter-patter of rain continues. the gentle hum of the heater is audible again. everything is back to normal and you'll pretend as if you didn't almost spill your heart to mingyu and carry on with life. a routine you've grown used to.

a sigh leaves your chest and you sit up, moving to get dressed. but mingyu pulls you back, entangling his limbs with yours. he rests his head on your chest and breathes in your scent. he looks peaceful in your arms.

but you aren't. the alarms in your mind are blaring and red lights flashing. a breach in the system, a break in the routine. you bring a hesitant hand to his head and caress his hair. your hand trembles and you card your fingers through his hair once. twice, thrice. till your heartbeat goes back to normal and your hand isn't trembling anymore.

unbeknownst to you, mingyu was panicking on his own. he doesn't know what the fuck he's doing or feeling. in a drunk-daze, he cuddled you. only realising his mistake when he felt you freeze under him. but you play with his hair and draw shapes on his skin. he smiles and snuggles into you, while his heart palpitates.

after a few minutes of silence, he hears you say, “i'm hungry.”

then mingyu realises that he was cooking before you jump scared him and he ‘punished’ you in return. he turns sulky immediately and moves off you.

“well, i was cooking before you scared me and jumped my bones.” he climbs off the bed, giving you the perfect view of his ass. you move quickly and slap his ass before jogging to the door. “i jumped your bones? i'm sorry you were the one who was jealous of me showing my slutty waist.”

“jealous?” he scoffs under his breath. he retrieves his pants and boxers quickly and wears them. the sound of your giggles and footsteps make him smile and he chases after you.

he sees your naked figure analyze his crop top in the living room. you slip it on and turn towards him with a smirk. “you're still naked in it.” he tells in a matter-of-fact voice.

“it covers my tits,”

“i can see your ass.” he deadpans and you bend over, wiggling your butt at him. he rolls his eyes and moves to the kitchen. you follow him with a smile on your face and mirth in your eyes.

the ghost face mask catches your attention and you take it. an idea suddenly pops in your mind. your body grows hot again and your heat throbs. turning around, you find mingyu standing right behind you. he turns you again and bends you over the counter.

you think he's going to fuck you again but instead feel a damp cloth on your cunt. you hiss and he apologizes, pressing the cloth softly to clean you up. one of his hands caresses your ass, and he leans down to kiss the swollen muscle.

what the fuck?

mingyu discards the cloth and turns the stove on, returning back to cooking as if nothing happened. as if nothing changed.

you feel it in the air. there isn't just lust between you anymore along with the acts of friendship. there's something else, something more tender and lighter. it's in the forefront of your brain but you don't want to acknowledge it now.

so you dart your eyes all over his apartment, trying to find any changes in the layout you have memorized in your head. you look at the kitchen cabins.

nice cabins, you think, observing them more closely. then you see it. the cabins are coloured in a familiar shade of brown. the shade of brown you'd recognize anywhere. because shades of brown remind you of him always, like wisps of love.

love. you take a deep breath and fidget with the top. you look down at it, trying to distract yourself. but of course, life will play out the way it wants to. you see the imprinted number ‘10’ staring back at you.

“mingyu?” he hums in response.

and you can't help the smile that adorns your face. “did you buy this because i told you it was my favorite look on johhny depp?”

you’re pleading in your head for him to tell “yes” or maybe, “yes, i'm jealous of everyone you fancy. i'm jealous of everyone who has touched you before this. i want to erase all of them from your mind. i want you to remember only me. yes, yes, yes! i love you..”

he looks back at you, a streak of vulnerability in his face. he doesn't tell you anything, not a single word or a syllable. he lowers the flame and turns around to face you fully.

a few moments of silence pass. then he speaks up.

“have i ever .. told you?” his brown eyes look at you pleadingly and you do the same. you understand his silence, his breaths, his heartbeat. as if you know a language only you both speak.

“that you're my favorite person?”

you move and stretch your arms towards him. he does the same. you kiss him, he kisses you. you share your breath with him and he shares his warmth with you.

the gentle hum of the heater mixes with the light pitter-patter of the raindrops on the window panes. yellow leaves sway through the wind, fluttering through the sky. only now you realise that they're singing the melody of a love song to which the leaves dance with mirth. 

⛧spooktober taglist !

@verogonewild @blancflms @chromequette @junniepookiedookie @kyeomiis

@jeonghnie @scoupsieee @xuminghaes @vernsbb @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken

@monstacheol @hoshiskimchi @miyx-amour @woozidanisms @choco-scoups

@cookiearmy @shadowyjellyfishfest @wonwoossecret @strxwberry-skiess @iamawkwardandshy

@merakilles @vitaminkyeom @okiedokrie

[tojigasm]

I've Got a Thing About You, Baby

Warnings: kissing, pet names, Logan shotguns the reader, cigars, smoking, fluff, domestic logan

It's late one night in the summer that it happens; when the air's still warm under the moonlight and the crickets hum against the breeze.

You've been watching him for the past hour or so. The trickling of smoke dancing into strange shapes and pretty lines through the screen door of the mansion, leading out to the back porch.

It's far past your bedtime, and the rest of the students and professors have long since retired to their own bedrooms.

Except for you, that is. A part of you too exhausted to actually sleep and the other too anxious to.

If you listen closely, you're able to hear the bird fountain from the garden.

You can hear the rocking chair sway back and forth against the chipped wood of the porch.

A weird feeling passes over you. It feels like the heat of the sun on a spring day, and it settles into your stomach warmly.

That feeling reminds you of home often.

You can't tell if Logan knows you're awake – scribbling away at your notes for the day and sipping Coca-Cola from the bottle through a straw. If he does, he doesn't make it known.

It's only when you make your way towards the back door, bare feet padding against the cool wood floors that you know he knows.

You wait by the door for a moment, gripping the neck of your Coca-Cola bottle as you watch him take a drag of his cigar.

You've always thought he was beautiful. The dark tufts of his hair and hazel eyes, paired with the brute strength he bears, was Renaissance-like.

You briefly wonder if he'd been alive that long.

"Y'gonna come out here or just keep staring at me like a freak?" Logan's voice breaks you from your spell and has you pushing past the screen door instantly.

You sit down in the rocking chair across from him, pulling both of your knees to your chest and your Coca-Cola to your side.

Your eyes follow him as he takes another drag of the cigar, thick brows relaxed as he exhales a pillow of white smoke and sinks into the chair.

"Why aren't you in bed?" You ask, thumbing the ends of your pajama bottoms

Logan snorts at the parroted sterness in your voice. You had to've picked that up from Jean, he thinks to himself.

"Why aren't you in bed?" He hums with a slight shake of his head, tapping his fingers holding the cigar against the armrest of the chair.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Hm," He picks at the fabric of his jeans momentarily, "is that why you were hiding behind the screen door thinkin' I couldn't see you?"

"I wasn't hiding!" You nearly jump from your seat, almost cringing at the hightened squeal of your voice.

"Right." He smirks from behind the cigar, voice laced with sarcasm as he takes another drag.

You watch him for a moment. Your skin warm from the summer air, a shiver runs up your spine.

There's something oddly paternal in his demeanor; legs spread as he rocks himself back and forth in the chair, flicking his lighter shut and throwing it back into his jean pocket.

Logan looks up momentarily, meeting your gaze through his brows, and just as quickly as he's turned away to blow smoke out into the hot air.

"Never smoked before." You comment, crossing your arms over the fronts of your legs.

Logan hums, "Good. Bad habit."

"Can I try some?"

Logan hesitates. Eyes meeting yours sternly.

"Aren't you a bit young to be trying to get people to pass off drugs to you?" You can hear the smirk in his voice before it's visible on his features.

You roll your eyes and place your Coca-Cola bottle onto the floor beside you.

"Never been one to try and get people to start bad habits." Logan adds, picking at his nail absentmindedly. "Seems to happen around me anyways."

You don't say anything to that. The pads of your fingers still folding and twisting the fabric of your pajamas.

An owl hoots from somewhere across the garden, and the crickets sing in the breeze again.

Logan turns his head towards you and folds his free hand behind his head, taking another drag of the cigar before turning it towards you.

You feel stuck. Suddenly, very aware of where you are and who you're with and the uncomfortably humbling fact that you have no idea how to actually smoke.

You hadn't realized you'd only been staring at his hand until Logan's voice peeks through your mental fog.

"C'mere, baby."

There's something domestically paternal in the deep of his tone that nearly makes your knees buckle as you shyly make your way over to him.

He makes room for you in his lap, guiding you to sit on one of his thighs.

"Y'never smoked before?" He reaffirms, resting a large hand over both of your thighs.

You shake your head.

The sound of his lighter makes you turn before Logan pulls you back towards him, lighting the end of the cigar again.

"I'll hold it fr'you. Just take a deep exhale like you're breathin', easy peasy."

You nod, watching the tobacco simmer at the end of the cigar, illuminating Logan's hand in an orangish red hue.

There's a moment of quiet where you're lost in thought, memorizing the preparedness of it. You turn towards Logan at the silence to see him watching you already, a thick brow arched.

"You gettin' shy on me?"

Immediately, you fluster at that, shaking your head with a "uh, uh." Before leaning down to wrap your lips around the end of the cigar.

Logan meets your eyes with a warm smile, "uh uh," He chides, voice pitched in mimic.

You giggle lightly before inhaling from the cigar.

It's warm against the back of your throat; a burning stroke that has you pulling away, coughing instantly. Your mouth feels dry and cotton-like as drool fills your mouth in an attempt to relax the forgein feeling.

"Woah," Logan chuckles loosely at you, stroking his hand up and down your back. "Y'okay?"

You give a weak thumbs up, smiling wobbly before bursting into a fit of coughs again.

Logan reaches for your coca-cola bottle mid giggle, bringing the straw up to your lips.

"Here, drink this. Yeah, there y'go."

The drink cools your throat, soothing the dry attack on your lungs as you gasp for clean breaths of air again.

Logan keeps his hand on your back, letting you relax into it.

"Y'okay?" He asks.

"Yeah, I didn't realize that it'd be that aggressive." Your voice still scratchy.

"I probably should've told you not to take such a deep breath," He strokes his hand over the curve of your jaw. "Sorry 'bout that, kid."

You wave him off, "it's okay."

Logan takes a drag of the cigar, thumbing it between his forefinger and middle.

"That is a bit strong, huh."

You nod.

"Here, I might have a better way to do it."

You watch as he tilts his head upwards, holding the cigar to his plush lips as he takes another inhale.

The glow of the auburn porch light creates a halo around his hair tufts and makes an outline of his sharp nose.

He blows smoke through his nose, hardly acknowledging it.

You're entranced with how easy he makes it seem, as though he's been throwing back cigars for the majority of his existence, and for all you know, he has.

Your betwitchment must be obvious on your face by the way Logan peers down slyly at you midst another drag.

He motions for you to come closer to him, curving his hand to hold your jaw steady.

Parting his lips some, a small whisp of smoke trails from his mouth as he softly says, "Open."

You can smell the burning tobacco, and it settles a warmth into you.

You part your lips, jolting slightly in his hold as he exhales the cloud of smoke into your mouth with a cocky smile.

The smoke is much easier to take this way – already diluted by whatever super regenerative powers he holds.

Logan brings you closer to meet you in a kiss, dragging his tongue over your lips and past your teeth to stroke the insides of your cheeks.

You're completely at his mercy, shivering and whimpering in his hand.

The plush of his lips has you grabbing at his forearm and gasping against him. You can feel him smile into the kiss with a hum.

He pulls off of you with a 'pop' before relasing his hand from your jaw with a smile.

"That better?"

You reduced to just stare at him.

"Maybe I need it one more time." You say under your breath, and you're almost afraid he doesn't catch it.

"Yeah? One more?" He asks, moving to hold your chin again.

"Mhm," you nod.

[misstycloud]

Yandere cowboy x fem.reader

Yandere! Cowboy who’s the towns sweetheart. How can he not be? He helps every troubled soul he comes across, doesn’t matter who they are. He works hard every day to easy the load of providing for the family, he’s not a child anymore, of course he’ll do anything he can to help out! Besides, who wouldn’t fall for those muscles and pearly smile? You’d be crazy if you didn’t.

Yandere! Cowboy who you meet the first day of your ‘vacation’ to stay at your grandparents. Your parents though you’d been acting up the last weeks so they decided it was best to send you away for the summer, much to your dismay. Now you’d have to text your friends that you can’t hang out at all. Damn it. Being forced to stay in a in-the-middle-of-nowhere town definitely wasn’t your top priority. There was practically no service and nothing to do all summer. You’ll be bored out of your mind unless you manage to find something to entertain you. Luckily, there does appear to be something worthy of your attention- or rather, someone. It’ll certainly make things more interesting.

Yandere! Cowboy who you think is kinda cute, if not a little weird. He’s no doubt very different compared to the boys in the city- speaking in that special accent, wearing worn overalls, sweat at his forehead everytime you meet and practical thinking above all else. Still, you find yourself intrigued by his contrasting personality.

Yandere! Cowboy who is enchanted by you. You’re just so….wonderful. Funny enough, he also thinks you’re different, which interests him. Normally, he isn’t the type to brag and is quite humble, but he isn’t blind. He can see the way the girls in town drool over him. He knows he’s attractive. But you, you don’t fall over your feet whenever you gets a glimpse of him. You don’t stutter over every word while talking to him- in fact, you’re as cool as a cucumber. It almost seems like you’re flirting with him.

Yandere! Cowboy who notices you way your eyes sparkle when you speak of your interests. He starts thinking about the way you sound when laugh, how you pout when you’re frustrated and what you look like when you’re sad. It’s all beautiful. You are beautiful. Soon, it’s not only that he focuses on. Now, every time you’re walking ahead of him, he pays attention to the curve of your ass, how your hips sway when you walk, and suddenly he finds himself having to adjust his pants.

Yandere! Cowboy who you enter a special relationship with. You’re more than friends but less than actual lovers- that’s how you see it at least and you believed that’s what yan! Cowboy wanted, too. You two spend all your free time together in each others arms and going on cute dates around town and in the forest.

Yandere! Cowboy who wishes to marry you. You’re his perfect match! It must be fate that you ended up in their little town. He’d give you a big beautiful ring- he’s saved up quite a bit during his years of working, so he can easily afford it- and let you have whatever wedding you imagine. He’d make sure it’s exactly how you want it. Then, he’ll personally build you a house. Of course, before he starts working on that, he’ll need to know if you want a porch, what kind of shutter you want and what colour should the exterior be, would you like a fireplace?

Yandere! Cowboy who can’t believe it; you’re leaving? You say that summer is over and you don’t have to stay there with your grandparents anymore. You almost seem…relieved. No, that can’t be it. You love him! Right? Or was the connection he felt just one-sided?

“Sorry, you weren’t meant to catch feelings for me or anything. I just wanted to have fun, pass the time y’know.

“So I didn’t meant anything to you? Not even a little bit?…”

“I do like you. But I live in the city and my stay here was never going to be permanent. Like I said, I’m sorry it got a little too serious.”

“…….”

“Yeah, I gotta go now. I wish you well though, see ya.”

Yandere! Cowboy who spiraled after you left. You’ve dug yourself too deep in him. He can’t imagine going on about his life like you never existed. He thought you could be happy there, even if wasn’t like the big city you were used too, but that was clearly not the case.

If he had to uproot his life and move to be with you, then so be it. He wonders if you’ll be happy to see him again.

[queenie-the-court-jester]

Yandere farm x farmhand reader 🌾

A/n: this contains few nsfw mentions, mdni please! They're not all that yandere, just a bunch of dumb silly hybrids trying to catch their favorite humans attention. This is their intro

✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙

★yandere farm x farmhand reader. I know this isn't original, but I always love the concept. Just minding your business, sweaty and hot from the sun, when suddenly a certain German Shepard hybrid starts sniffing you up and down, lapping up your sweaty skin and grinning when you swat him away. How did you end up here?

★maybe you came here for a summer job, maybe some relatives owned the farm, maybe you were always working here. Either way, it doesn't take long for the hybrids to notice you once you arrive.

★the bulls and cows watching curiously from the fields, the centaurs trying to peek from their stables, the merfolk living in the lake just down the property poke their little heads out. The dogs barking from their Little homes, and the cats watching from the windows. You couldn't help but gawk at the variety of hybrids, there were so many! Merfolk, avians, cattle, cats, dogs.

★your first week there was nice, the other farmhands were nice, and the owners were so sweet! Always speaking fondly of their pets, the old couple would watch them run in the field or play by the lake. You yourself found them a little annoying. Always sniffing, grabbing, nipping at your clothes. You've had to fight your overall bottoms free from one of the pooches one too many times. The cats were no better.

★your second week you meet the cattle and centaurs. And unlike the house cats and guard dogs, they're less handsy. Simply observing from afar. Occasionally sniffing you before nodding their heads and pulling away. Letting you do your job of combing, cleaning and fixing up them and their stables. The cattle would happily let you milk them, applying the breast pumps to the females and a cock pump to the males. You ignored how they looked at you strangely during milkings

★the third week you meet the avians. Odd little bunch, hopping around and puffing up their chests. They watched you enter their enclosure curiously, you were busy picking up their molten feathers because you thought they were pretty. So bright and colorful! Walking around bent over a little when you finally notice the peacock male standing right Infront of you. He gave you a pointed look before his tail feathers expanded. Looking prideful, tilting his chin up as if in an arrogant way. Swaying side to side and closer to you, while you just held the feathers in your hands, a little confused. He got closer until he let out an incredibly loud squawk. Turning around abruptly to glare at the cuckoo who bent down to poke his butt. The cuckoo gave you a grin before climbing back up the tree, using this time as distraction, you quickly escaped.

★on the fourth week, you meet the merfolk. Having been here a month, they were eager to meet you. Watching you walk on the dock with fish feed, eagerly Perking up and swimming closer. You shook out a good handful and chucked it out for the koi fish to eat. They swarmed the area until all the food was gone, simply staring up at you. One poked her head out, tilting it a bit and making a 'click' sound with her tongue. You mimicked her, doing the same. She seemed elated, making various whistles and clicks, splashing up and down the lake. The lake was manmade and filled with koi fish when it was finished, but then again there may be more fish not even the owners know about since it was so deep. How'd they get in there? You're not sure, but you just know it.

★on the fifth week your owners told you about how they had bought multiple sheep, and goats. One male for each group. Watching the loading truck approach the little barn they were finished building. So that's why it was there, they started construction when you arrived the first week. You helped the other farmhands get them situated, at first they were rowdy and a little aggressive but for some reason calmed down when you approached them. Your colleagues now called you the sheep whisperer. You quickly learned how to shave their wool and milk the goats properly. Sometimes braiding their long hair, you just wish the ram would stop headbutting the nearest male colleague for your attention.

★On your sixth week, you went for a walk in the forest when suddenly a little body of fluffy fur tackled you, growling with it's teeth barred. You looked up to see a Pomeranian hybrid, trying it's best to look intimidating. Their fluffy tail gave them away, it was wagging 100mph. They visibly deflated when you reached up a hand to pet them, letting you for A couple minutes before getting off. Walking back into the woods towards three wolves. Dissapearing with them. Not soon after you found a friendly garden naga. Just lounging on a rock and enjoying the sun. You asked to join and they let you, laying there for a good while until you had to go back to the farm. Noticing they had wrapped their tail around you, oh boy. It'll take a good while to get out. Welp, might as well make yourself comfortable and wait for the dogs to come find you

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

HYBRIDS AND THEIR NAMES:

Week one, cats and dogs;

Brutus, dog hybrid, 18, German Shepard, he/him

Dolly, dog hybrid, 26, doberman, she/her

bladviba, dog hybrid, 25, black Russian terrier, he/him

Molly, dog hybrid, 17, chow chow, she/her

Sweet pea, dog hybrid, 17, samoyed, they/them amab

bubba, dog hybrid, 37, borzoi, he/him

Princess, cat hybrid, 18, ragdoll, she/her

Prince, cat hybrid, 19, Norwegian forest cat, he/him

King, cat hybrid, 27, Khao manee, he/him

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

Second week, cattle and centaurs;

Miss bené, cow hybrid, 49, white park cattle, she/her

Miss blackberry, cow hybrid, 22, Aberdeen Angus, she/her

Miss Polly, cow hybrid, 26, Aberdeen Angus, she/her

Miss frufru, cow hybrid, 28, Aberdeen Angus, she/her

Miss Vivian, cow hybrid, 35, Aberdeen Angus, she/her

Big daddy, bull hybrid, 52, Aberdeen Angus, he/him

Johnny, bull hybrid, 18, Aberdeen Angus/white park cattle, he/him

Jacqueline, centaur, 19, shire horse, she/her

Timothy, centaur, 21, galineers cob, he/him

maya, centaur, 17, fjord horse, they/them

Casper, centaur, 23, ardennais, he/him

miguel, centaur, 18, Andalusian horse, he/him

harmony, centaur, 25, Breton horse, they/them

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

third week, avians;

Sydney, avian, 22, cockatoo, they/he

Evangeline, avian, 19, peacock, she/her

Gabriel, avian, 20, peacock, he/him

fajarah, avian, 24, indian ring necked parakeet, she/her

Foolish, avian, 26, owl finch, he/him

simon, avian, 28, tyto alba, he/him

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

Fourth week, merfok;

tancho, koi fish merfolk, 19, tancho koi, he/him

kiko, koi fish merfolk, 19, kikokuryu koi, she/her

hime, koi fish merfolk, 19, hirenaga koi, she/her

Tsu, koi fish merfolk, 19, doitsu koi, they/them

koromo, koi fish merfolk, 19, koromo koi, he/him

Mason, lake 'monster' (crocodile), 20, freshwater crocodile, he/him

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

Fifth week, goats and sheep;

Sally, goat, 25, angora goat, she/her

Opal, goat, 24, Tennessee fainting goat, she/her

Sasha, goat, 26, australian cashmere goat, she/her

kim, ram, 23, dutch landrace goat, he/him

Poka, sheep, 19, Valais black nose, they/them

Juniper, sheep, Valais black nose, she/her

violet, sheep, 18, harri, she/her

azucar, sheep, 17, Columbia sheep, she/her

Wehrner, ram, 21, American black belly, he/him

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

Sixth week, the forest creatures:

roxy, wolf hybrid, 19, grey wolf, she/her

Silas, wolf hybrid, 21, grey wolf, he/him

Milo, wolf hybrid, 20, albino Grey wolf, they/them

Kiki, dog hybrid, 18, Pomeranian, they/them

Coachella, naga, 27, garden snake, they/him

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Stars in the Dark

Warnings/Mentions: Smut, unprotected p in v, emergency contraceptives, slight alcohol consumption, reader is strong (minor description)

Summary: You're a former farm hand at the Greene Farm. You swoon over the new hunter, and he notices.

Notes: This was one of the first requests I got and I'm so sorry it took me this long to put it out! I hope you're still around anon, and you enjoy.

It was an unusually cool day. 

You sat on the front porch of the Greene house, watching as the strangers that were slowly becoming friends did their daily chores. Carol sat in the center of their camp, scrubbing clothes in a bucket next to Lori, who was hanging them up to dry. Andrea sat on the top of the RV, switching between her gun scope and her binoculars to observe the tree line. There was a man beside her, the one that was with Otis when he died, was his name Shawn? Shane?

It was hard to remember their names, there were so many of them.

But you didn't have trouble remembering Daryl’s name. Especially considering how often you would whimper it into your pillow at night. 

You felt your cheeks heat up at the idea of him, your legs switching from being crossed at your ankles to your knees, the rocking chair beneath you swaying slightly. 

Your eyes drifted to the man you'd been thinking of, watching as he walked back to the camp for lunch after spending the morning hunting. You'd been seeing more of him, especially after the whole incident with the walkers in the barn, something not even you had known about. You knew they were there, sure, but you had no idea the little girl they were looking for had been in there the whole time. 

The Greene family had kept it from you for a while. You had gone to school with Maggie, Hershel's daughter, and she was able to get you a spring job working at her farm with the horses and cattle. They were even kind enough to let you have their spare bedroom downstairs near the back door. It was tiny, but it was free lodging, and you loved it. 

That spring job turned into a summer job once the infection started. Hershel had done a pretty good job convincing you of his beliefs. You had little medical experience, mostly just patching up animals at the farm, especially the barn cat PeePoe, but you liked to believe Hershel knew what he was talking about. Even if it seemed a little farfetched. So, you kept their secret and minded your own business. 

You were sort of glad Shane forced the whole thing to happen. The walkers in the barn were starting to really creep you out, especially with how much they began to rot over time. 

The movement of two people sneaking around to the back of the house caught your eye and you saw Maggie and Glenn, something you'd grown accustomed to. She had a big smile, full of excitement and nervousness, and Glenn just looked thrilled to be there. You watched as they disappeared to the back workshop and felt envy bubble in your stomach. 

The sound of that familiar gruff voice that you'd gotten really good at imagining at night startled you. You looked up and away from beside you, your mouth slightly open in surprise, not having heard him walk up on the porch. 

“Hi?” You looked up at him, awkward and embarrassed from your earlier thoughts. You weren't used to seeing him so up close. He smelled like cigarettes and something else, something artificial, and when you saw him chewing something you realized it was the very faint scent of bubblegum. 

“Patricia said you knew the shops in town. Can't find Glenn, and we need supplies for dinner tonight.” His eyes held little emotion, a bit of annoyance maybe. Annoyance at having to ask you, or annoyance at having to go into town instead of Glenn, you weren't sure. 

“Yeah, I do.” You nodded slowly, trying to keep the filthy thoughts from your head as your eyes raked over his face and upper body, catching yourself and quickly looking back up at his face. 

“Good. C'mon.” He didn't ask, he just slung his crossbow over his bloody ripped shirt, which you assumed was from the deer he had bagged that morning. 

Patricia had mentioned to you in passing about wanting to have another group dinner that night, you didn't expect it to actually happen, given how awkward the last one had been at first. With the weather slowly fading into autumn and the crops dying from age, you figured it was necessary to get some supplies from town. 

You didn't leave often. You didn't have a desire, or a need to, but the idea of being alone with Daryl had you almost skipping to his bike. 

As much as you wanted to push Daryl against the wall of the corner store and kiss him till he passed out, you didn't feel like getting humiliated from rejection. You settled for just watching him as he moved, picking up cans and turning them over before stuffing them in his burlap potato sack. 

The sight of his eyes flickering up over the aisle and landing right on yours snapped you out of your dirty daydream. You quickly looked down to your shelf, picking up a can of corn and pretending to be interested in the ingredients in it. Hmm, yes, Corn. 

He eyed you through suspicious slits, having a hard time deciding between being concerned or annoyed.

Daryl didn't know much about you at all. He knew your name, he knew you were younger than Maggie but older than Beth and that you were a newer farmhand. The only people that ever talked about you never really spoke to him.

He did know that you were way too hot to be working on a farm shoveling horse shit. You belonged in a fuckin magazine, one of those that fashion ones Amy used to read back at their first camp in Atlanta. You were fit, you had to be for your job, what you looked like before all the labor-intensive work, he didn't know or care. 

He'd never seen someone as hot as you in person. He couldn't even think of the words to describe you. You looked so out of place at that farm, it was like taking a supermodel and putting her in a gas station. He watched as you put food in your bag, trying not to get hard as his thoughts swiftly changed from admiring your beauty to imagining how you'd look when you came. 

Daryl thought about that way too much already. He thought about it so much that he was confident he was spot on with the image of you he created in his mind. Alone in his far-off tent at night, not having to worry about getting caught, rubbing his dick raw to the thought of you naked, drooling and crying from pleasure under him. 

“Okay, my bag’s full.” Your voice ripped him from his trance and he blinked a few times, realizing he'd been staring at the same can of peas for the past two minutes. 

“Yeah. Alright.” He swept his arm across his shelf, knocking several cans into his bag and two on the floor. You jumped at the sound and he cursed, his brain still not working right with all the blood that went to his dick. 

You peeked over the shelf to see two cans on the floor, one perfectly fine and the other surrounded in a gross pile of butter beans. No loss to you. Daryl snatched the can of diced tomatoes from the floor and put it in his bag, twisting it a few times before slinging it over the shoulder that didn't have the crossbow on it. 

“How the hell are we gonna get these back?” You asked as you walked out the front door, trying not to fall head over heels when he stuck back to hold the door open for you. You thought he was being chivalrous, he just wanted to stare at your ass in those Bobbie Brooks as you walked to his bike. 

“We'll figure it out.” 

And you did, sort of, but it was incredibly awkward with a bag pressed between the two of you on the bike, and the other tied to your torso so it sat behind you. Thankfully, he drove thoughtfully slowly, and you were able to get back to the farm without incident. 

You were happy to let the other women do the cooking, trying to pay attention to the rant Andrea was currently going on about how Lori loved her social norms. 

The wind had grown a bit cooler, sending goosebumps over the back of your neck as the breeze blew through your hair. 

“You ever cook?” Andrea said suddenly, a cautious edge to her voice as if she suddenly realized she had no idea how you felt about gender roles. “Or, like it, I mean?”

“Was more of an outdoor kind of girl.” You chuckled, leaning back in the plastic lawn chair around the fire you sat at. 

Daryl was chopping wood, something you'd never been so interested in before. Andreas' conversation was getting real, real boring. 

“Yeah. I liked fishing myself.” She grew silent after that, and you looked away from Daryl to see she had a far out look in her eyes.

“You okay?” You asked in a gentle voice, only earning a silent nod from her. You took that as your leave and gave her a comforting shoulder squeeze before heading inside. The sun would set in a few hours, and you wanted to change into warmer clothes before dinner. 

You didn't expect to have Daryl sit beside you at dinner. 

You didn't really expect him to come, let alone eat with the group. Last time he’d been stuck in the bed upstairs since he’d been shot by Andrea. You basically froze when you saw the seating arrangements.

 It wasn't really his choice, honestly, everyone sat down so fast, the only two seats that were open were right beside each other. Looked like no one wanted to sit next to Shane. And from the look on his face, you didn't really want to either.

Relief flooded through you when Daryl sat down next to Shane. You took your seat beside Daryl, Andrea on your right. You smiled at Patricia in front of you, only getting a small one in return. 

It wasn't as quiet or awkward as the last dinner. Spirits were a bit higher, although tense with the whole “prisoner in the barn” fiasco. You couldn't recall the name of the man that was currently chained up, but you did know Dale made a scene of fixing him a plate, much to Shane's objection. 

You tried to distract yourself from their bickering by looking at Daryl. A quick bolt of subdued adrenaline coursed through you when you saw he was already looking at you. You looked away almost immediately out of reflex, and deciding against your better judgment, you looked back. He was still looking at you. 

Daryl couldn't figure you out. If he had a bullet for how many times he caught you looking at him, he'd be able to kill every damn walker on earth. 

It never even crossed his mind you were into him before that night. It seemed so farfetched, you were too fuckin pretty to be looking at him like that. Your features were so soft, even after all the work that had toughened your muscles, your face was still so… 

Cute.

 He didn't notice the tugging that had pulled at the corner of his mouth until it was a full-fledged smirk. He was about to look away when he realized how creepy he probably looked, staring down at you smirking without speaking, but the feeling of your knee bumping against his had his eyes locked to yours. 

His smirk slowly faded, being replaced by a more serious expression, until he saw the soft smile on your lips. 

Nah, she's just friendly. He found himself trying to explain away your actions, but a large part of him desperately wanted him to be wrong. Having such a sweet girl look up at him like that was uncharted territory, and his mind slowly drifted away to the idea of your uncharted territory. He would've snorted at the pun if not for the feel of your thigh pressing against his and staying there this time. 

Neither of you had noticed, but the bickering had finally died down, and a different and lighter conversation was taking place. 

Your silent interaction wasn't as private as it felt, the burn of Rick's eyes on his face had Daryl dragging his eyes to the leader of the group, holding so much cold annoyance towards the nosey man that it could've frozen hell. 

Rick just grinned, happy to see at least some people weren't so miserable with how things were going and went back to picking at his plate with his fork, silently chuckling. 

“Do you drink?” Your soft voice broke him from his thoughts, he looked back over to you, his expression softening when he saw you. He couldn't decide if he wanted to take you out back and fuck you in the grass like an animal, or take you to your bed and kiss every inch of your body. 

“Sometimes.” He shrugged, his voice low and quiet amongst the chatter of the table. “Why?”

You shrugged in return, popping an apple slice in your mouth and crunching it before swallowing and speaking. “I found a bottle of wine today at the store. I don't really drink much anymore but wanted to find a reason to.” 

Your open-ended words had him overthinking once again, over analyzing what you meant. Was he the reason to drink? Or did you have one already? Before he could leave you in more silence your thigh moved against his again, bringing his attention back to you. 

“What're you askin’ me?” He needed to hear you clearly state your intentions, not wanting to humiliate himself by accepting a nonexistent request. 

“If you'll join me.” Your voice was quiet, almost too quiet, and it took him a few seconds to process what you'd said. 

He looked you over, his eyes narrowing as he searched your face for any sign of a trick. You smiled nervously, your eyes flickering to and fro, only settling on his eyes for a second a time. Something about you being unable to keep eye contact stirred something in him, something he was painfully unfamiliar with. He wanted to grab your chin and make you look up at him, make you speak up, make you tremble under his touch-

“You can say no.” He snapped out of it to see your smile had faded to fear of rejection. 

“No. I want to.” He answered immediately, nodding and earning another smile from you. 

You met him in the front field, holding your bundled up blanket with the wine bottle inside. You were originally going to bring glasses, but said fuck it, you could drink from the bottle. You did forget to bring a bottle opener, though, something Daryl was happy to help with. 

He took the bottle from you and sat down on the blanket beside you, pulling a switchblade from his back pocket and beginning to work it into the cork.

“Hershel said something about moving you guys inside soon.” You commented as he blew a few chunks of broken cork from his blade. 

“I'll pass.” He grunted, digging the blade back into the cork. 

You looked away, your heart dropping at his words. 

“Can't stop thinking about it.” 

“Huh?” 

“About winter.” You thought you might've just been imagining it, but you swore you saw his face drop in disappointment at your answer. 

Finally, you heard the pop of the cork finally coming out, and he took the first swig, spitting out the few pieces of cork that had fallen in after he demolished the poor thing. 

He handed it back to you and you took a deep swig, trying to get as much courage as possible. You didn't know how to act around Daryl. He was so unpredictable, nothing like the other men you'd crushed on before. They were all easy, quick to accept your subliminal hints. 

But Daryl? You could tell him you wanted to suck his dick till he couldn't breathe, and he'd probably laugh, thinking you were just joking, and go off and hunt or whatever it was he did all day. 

It was easy for your mind to wander in the silence. You handed the bottle back to Daryl as you slowly undressed him in your head, imagining him taking your clothes off, his lips all over your neck, switching between your different fantasies. Rough, violent and painful, sweet, slow and deep, or quick, needy and dirty. You wondered what he would be like, was he experienced? Would he be able to make you cum just with his fingers? Or was he the opposite? Either way you wanted him, so unreasonably bad, you'd never felt this way about a man before. If someone told you a witch put a lust spell on you strictly for him, you'd believe it in a heartbeat. You didn't even know his favorite color. Or what type of music he listened to. 

“Shit, get down.” His hand on your chest pushing you to your back had your heart in your throat. You tilted your head back to see Maggie and Glenn, sneaking away once again. Daryl relaxed at the realization that it was just them and drew his hand away from you. 

“Lucky them.” You grumbled, taking the bottle from him and taking a sip. You were happily buzzed at this point, eager to make conversation but not at the point where you'd make a fool of yourself. 

“Hmm. Yeah.” He agreed, watching as they slipped behind the stables. “Lucky.”

With your newfound courage, you decided to test the waters in a way that you felt seemed completely unsuspecting and not suspicious at all. 

“Must be nice to have someone like that to take your mind off things for a while.” You commented casually, your gaze now back at the stars. 

“Wouldn't know.” His gruff reply gave you motivation to push on. 

“Yeah, me neither.” You couldn't think of the words that wouldn't possibly spook him off. Little did you know, Daryl wasn't some cornered frightful animal, he was thinking of the same things and worse than you. He'd been looking at you, his chest rising and falling in short quick breaths, his eyes all over your body beside him. 

“Those stars look better laying down.” He felt like an obviously desperate teenager after saying that, but when you immediately laid down on the blanket he smirked a bit. Maybe it wasn't such a stupid suggestion. 

He took a deep sip of wine and looked over you, noticing you'd changed back into your jean shorts after dinner. It was odd, he thought, considering the chill in the air, but he wasn't complaining. The way he looked at your bare legs was akin to someone on a diet looking at a plate of fresh, hot salty fries. His mouth watered, not from the idea of fries, but from the idea of sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your thighs so hard you'd be littered with bruises. 

Daryl wanted to touch you so goddamn bad. But being him, he was too disgusted by the idea of getting the nerve to reach out and touch your thigh and having you pull away, shout at him, storm off and never talk to him again. 

And you being you, you were too terrified at the idea of making the first move and getting a similar reaction. 

So you stared up at the stars, forcing yourself to concentrate, before that last bit of wine spread through your body and gave you enough confidence to look at him. 

A buzzed smile spread on your lips when you saw he was already looking at you. And not your face either, but your thighs, and to gauge his reaction you trailed your hand down your torso to casually rest at the bottom of your shorts. You toyed with it, a bit, pretending you had an itch under the fabric and slipping your fingers under the hem. 

He looked at your face then. 

“You look real good.” He blurted, and froze at his words, ready to get up and bolt if you reacted the wrong way. 

“You look really pretty.” You responded without thinking, earning a look of confusion from him. “I mean, in a good way, like you could model in one of those underground fashion shows-” You cut yourself off before you could humiliate yourself further, but the grin on his face put you at ease. And made you a little tiny bit bolder. 

Neither of you knew what to say. He suddenly grabbed the wine and took an exceptionally impressive sip, leaving the bottle half empty. 

It was a few moments before either of you spoke again. 

“What did you do before this?” You asked, trying to ease the tension enough to relax the both of you. 

He snorted at that question, shaking his head and looking away from you. “Same as everyone else. Lived. Paid for food.”

You took that as the best answer you'd get from him and decided to use the boldness you'd earned from the alcohol. 

“Did you have a girlfriend?” 

He must've found your question amusing, because he snorted. “Psh. No. You got a boyfriend?” 

You noticed his question was in the present tense, not past like yours. “No.” 

He grunted and shifted in his spot so his forearms rested on his knees. He toyed with the grass for a bit, snapping off blades and picking them apart into little green confetti pieces. 

Daryl gave up on talking. He looked down at you again, seeing you were looking at the stars again, but not really seeing them. With the wine induced confidence he wasn't sure if he was thankful for yet, he reached out for you, his fingertips ghosting your knee. His eyes flickered to your face, and when he saw the expression it held there, he decided he was very grateful for the wine.

You sucked in a sharp breath, your lips parted and your eyebrows a bit furrowed. It was funny, with that look you'd think he had slipped his hands in your shorts. And when his hand fully pressed down on your thigh you closed your eyes and clenched your jaw, your body giving a billion silent ‘finally, finally, yes, yes, yes’. 

“Been thinkin’ ‘bout this for a while.” His gravelly voice sent chills through your entire body. 

“I can't stop thinking about it.” You admitted. 

“Yeah?” Your confession had him spinning, his hand now in the pocket of your shorts, two of his fingers dipping in to pull the two of you closer together. 

You found it hard to speak, so you settled on a whiny and desperate ‘Uh-huh’. 

He smirked down at you, his fingers back at your inner thigh. His touch was lazy, but deliberate, his rough fingers slipping up your thigh to the top of your shorts again. He ached to tease you, watch you whimper and squirm under you, but it was getting progressively harder. He glanced over his shoulder at the house, seeing all the windows dark besides Beth's bedroom. He then looked over the moonlit field, concerned for a moment about walkers, but when he saw the fence he felt all concern melt away. 

Daryl's hand continued roaming over your body, relishing in each little whimper being pulled from your throat. The thought that he was doing this to you, it was him making you into this needy little mess, it gave him a new sense of pride he hadn't felt in a long time. 

“You look real damn good.” He repeated his earlier compliment. The way you looked laying down beside him, your long sleeve shirt pushed up around your stomach, your chest rising and falling sharply, had his heart racing despite the buzz he had going on. 

“Thank you.” Your voice was barely a whisper, sending a shiver through him at the sound of it. Your body arched into his touch, desperate to have his hand move from your stomach either up or down. 

“You feel real damn good too.” He muttered, loving the way your body was responding to his touch. 

“God. So do you.” You breathed out a long exhale, looking up at him like he was the prettiest thing above you, not the stars. 

“Yeah?” His voice had taken on a higher pitch, a bit teasing, making you involuntarily whimper at the sound of it. He suddenly took it up ten notches, sliding his hand up your shirt to your breast. You had to bite back the moan that you knew would either call walkers or humans if you made it. While he played with your nipple, rougher than you expected, his other hand popped open the button on your shorts. 

You didn't have time to be impressed before his hand shoved its way through your tight shorts to your panties, catching you completely off guard with how suddenly forward it was. A strangled groan and the sight of your eyes squeezing shut had him teasing you again. “S’been a while, huh?” 

You nodded frantically, biting down hard on your bottom lip. Your legs trembled, moving apart so he could move his hand easier. He eagerly took advantage of the new space and moved his fingers through the sides of your panties, beelining for your clit. You weren't sure if it was experience, or if he just wasn't stupid, but the way he rubbed your embarrassingly slick clit had your head reeling. 

“You want me to take care of this little ache you got goin’ on?” The fact his southern drawl had gotten much stronger was almost enough to make you cum. Coupled with the dirty words he was saying, which was something you didn't expect from Daryl at all, your face burned with embarrassment. 

“Please.” You choked out, your hands gripping onto the blanket under you, having no idea what to do with your hands. 

He put more weight on his hands as he shuffled so close that he was basically on top of you. His middle finger slid into you, and the feigned cockiness quickly left his body when he felt you. He didn't know if he'd last more than ten seconds inside you. You were unbearably hot and wet. And just by the way you squeezed his finger, he couldn't imagine how that would feel on something bigger like his dick. 

Your worries were right, your orgasm came so fast you were humiliated. He'd barely curled his fingers inside you a few times, something you had to teach him through your haze, and you groaned, low and guttural.

His eyes widened when he realized what was happening, your orgasm catching him off guard. He took his hand that was busy pinching your incredibly sore nipples and clamped it firmly over your mouth, muffling your cries, even though they were enough to give him enough material to jerk his dick to for months. 

He'd need to find somewhere he could let you scream in peace. But for now, he'd have you right here, keep his hand over your mouth and fuck you into the grass. 

Daryl watched you come undone under his fingers like it would be the last time he'd ever see it. Memorizing the way your hips rolled up into his hand, the way they pulled away when you arched your back. The way your eyebrows pulled tightly together, then the way they relaxed as you rode out your high, your eyes fluttering like they couldn't decide on opening or staying closed. 

“Jesus Christ woman.” He breathed, his eyes dark and wild, like he'd just watched a miracle being performed in front of him. To Daryl it was. He felt an unbridled sense of satisfaction knowing he was the one who did that to you. 

You relaxed fully, your hips pulling away from his rough fingers and thumb, which were still stroking your clit. 

“Ain't done with you yet.” He pulled his hand from your shorts, leaving a trail of shimmering wetness on your stomach. 

“God. You're so pretty.” You said breathlessly, looking up at him again with that damn look on your face as you struggled to sit up to take your clothes off.

“You think I'm pretty? Yeah? C'mon then, show me.” He grabbed your hands, bringing them to his chest, forcing you to touch him. Your mind spun, still recovering from the first orgasm you'd had in god knows how long, trying to take over control as he used your hands to unbutton his plaid button up, not caring if you saw him shirtless because of how dark it was. The red one with the sleeves torn off,  it was your favorite. It was almost a loss to see him remove it, that was until he brought your hands back to touch his chest again. 

You decided you liked his direction, and let him move your hands down his chest to his jeans. Your hands fumbled with his belt buckle, messing up one too many times. He unbuckled it for you, deciding he was too impatient to wait on you, undoing his jeans and tugging them down just enough to get his cock out. 

When he finally tugged it out you tried your best to memorize every single detail about it. The glint of the moon on the bead of precum at the slit, the way the tip was darker than the pale base, the way his unruly pubes looked exactly like you'd imagined. 

Your hands reached out to grab the length of his cock and he sucked in a sharp breath, his head tipping back as he muttered out a string of curses you couldn't understand through his thick accent. 

He was so fucking glad he jerked off in his tent before he came out to meet you. Or else just that touch alone would've had him busting in your hands. 

The sound of him spitting into his hand made your core do that flip and you let out a shaky breath, watching as he rubbed his palm over the tip of his cock. 

He said nothing as he manhandled you, pushing your shorts right down your thighs, ignoring your little sound of surprise. He pulled you into his lap, and the way he took full control of your body like you were a puppet had you growing wetter than you thought possible. He moved you like you weighed nothing, one hand holding your side in a firm grip to keep you hovering over his dick. He was going to spit again, but you sank down against him and he felt how wet you were, he sputtered out a groan and swallowed his spit. 

He reached down between you and grabbed his dick, trying to guide it to the right spot in the confusion of his lust clouded brain and how wet and hot everything felt. You grabbed his hand and aimed it right at your soaking entrance, and sank your hips down. 

His head barely nudged against your entrance before it slid away, up through your lips and bumping your sensitive clit roughly. You hissed at the feeling and he grunted in irritation. 

“Here-” You pulled back from him, which he objected to for a split second, the idea of you separating from him not an option he wanted to consider. But when you started laying down on your back he moved forward on top of you, grabbing your thigh to hike it up over his waist. 

The new angle made things much easier, although your tightness still proved to be a slight inconvenience. You cursed yourself for being so sexually inactive, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt the burn of his tip slowly pushing inside you. 

His mouth found your neck as he lowered his body flat on yours, his weight nearly crushing your chest under his. He kissed your neck as he felt the resistance finally give, his head popping inside you and the rest of his dick pushing forward easier. 

You still saw stars when you closed your eyes, your body freezing from the mind numbing pleasure at the feeling of him filling you in a way you'd either never experienced, or had long forgotten. When the burn of the intrusion finally gave away and melted into complete bliss you relaxed under him, your hips angling up to drive him deeper. 

Daryl groaned in your neck, the sound stuttered as he fought to gain his bearings. His hand tugging his dick to the thought of you was something he never thought he'd top. The feeling of you wrapped around it was something he knew he'd never top. 

The tension between you broke and he finally began moving, dragging his dick out painfully slowly before plunging it back in, fitting like the last piece of a puzzle he'd been working on his whole life. 

He let out a low groan, sinking his teeth into the meat of your neck and bringing a high pitched cry from your mouth. 

“Nuh-uh.” He panted, his hips picking up a faster pace as he pulled away from your neck. “You gotta be quiet, sweetheart.” 

“Mhmm!” You clenched your jaw, your eyes fluttering open to look at him above you. His eyes dark, his mouth open as he breathed heavily, beads of sweat forming at his hairline. The sight had you arching your back, making him groan at the feeling of you squeezing and pulling on his dick. He really did look so fucking pretty. 

Daryl looked down at you, eyes tracing over your face twisted in pleasure, and he felt you grow wetter around him. The way your body responded to him had him trembling. He couldn't get enough of you. He needed more. He grabbed your hips, his grip firm enough to keep you in place as he sped up. 

The quickening of his rough thrusts had your head lolling to the side, each thrust knocking a breathless moan from your lips. They were quiet, to be heard by him alone, which was more than enough for him. The muscles in his jaw flexed as he fought to keep his composure, the last bit of him that he had under control worried about possibly hurting you. 

But that concern quickly went out the window when you started begging. 

“Please.” Your words bubbled from your chest, hot and desperate. “Please!”

“Please what?” He hissed, his brows furrowed in confusion as he fucked deep into you. “Use your words, tell me whatcha want. I'll give it to you.” 

“More, please, I don't know.” You babbled under him, trying your best to stay quiet. “Harder, more, I don't-” 

He moved on you, suddenly putting all the weight of his upper body into his grip on your hips, right before he started fucking you so hard you lost the ability to speak. 

Each thrust sent a bolt of sharp and deep pleasure through your pussy, up your body and ending with a tingle on your scalp. You couldn't moan, even if you wanted to, his movements were so rough it felt like each snap of his hips knocked the air from your lungs. You knew there'd be a deep imprint of your ass in the dirt tomorrow from how much weight he was boring down on you, and the sensation of that alone made your head spin. 

Your sharp gasps that were in sync with his thrusts neared a dangerous volume, and he slowed his hips, using the opportunity to catch his breath. 

“Ya gotta be quiet. M’serious.” He whispered, his thumbs pressing down on the sides of your stomach when your whimpers had yet to cease. “Gonna have to stop.”

You spewed out a soft stream of no’s, your hands wrapping around his wrists as if you had the strength to keep him there. “I will, sorry.”

He nodded in response and carried back on with quicker thrusts, his mouth open as he sucked in shaky breaths. Daryl couldn't take his eyes off you. He wished he had met you a year ago, before all this happened, so he could fuck you without worrying about walkers, getting caught, he wanted desperately to hear every sound he earned from you. He was the reason you were a broken mess; he deserved to hear and have all of you. 

Your right hand let go of his wrist to snake under his stomach, your flat fingers rubbing firm massages on your greedy clit. The sight had a choked moan sounding from his throat and you whined in response, the sound sending long bolts of pleasure through your core. 

“Daryl, so close.” You whispered, your toes curling from their spot at the base of his spine. 

He understood your meaning and set a steadier pace, not too rough or fast, but deep and steady enough to guarantee your final orgasm, since his first with you was approaching. 

Daryl wasn't stupid, he meant to pull out, truly, but when you came and squeezed his cock like a fist, he couldn't help it. His body trembled and he choked, gasping and whimpering as he came with you. 

Your jaw dropped and you saw more than stars, you saw the whole damn galaxy. Daryl quickly pressed his hand over your mouth to muffle your obscene moans, his hips stuttering as he finished the last drop in his orgasm. 

“My God. My God. Oh my God.” You panted after he removed his hand, your eyes bleary and wet, your body vibrating with exhausted shakes as your ecstasy slowly faded away. Your hands and feet felt cold and numb, and when he pulled away it felt like someone had taken something from you. You whimpered in a soft objection as his wrist left your grip. 

“Goddamn.” He sat back to stuff his raw dick back in his jeans, twitching when he felt the uncomfortable friction from his boxers, it was too stimulating. 

It took you some time to put your clothes back on, when you were finally dressed you were too exhausted to do anything but lay there on the blanket and catch your breath. 

Neither of you spoke for a while, sitting in silence to regain your bearings and enjoy the final moments of buzz from sex. As soon as he came down from his high, he grabbed the abandoned bottle of wine and drank nearly the rest of it. 

“I'm gonna go shower.” You breathed, sitting upright to find your shoes and put them back on. 

“G’night.” He muttered between swigs.

“Goodnight Daryl. That was amazing.” You thanked him with a quick kiss that seemed to startle him.

He sucked his teeth in embarrassment, waving you off as if to say, ‘it's nothing'. He watched you walk away, scratching the backs of your arms, itching from the grass. Daryl turned back to the woods and finished the bottle before chucking it into the field, eventually leaving for his tent, bringing your blanket with him. 

You took the best bath you could manage with your supplies; it wasn't as satisfying as a hot shower with your old fancy soaps and shampoos, but you were too exhausted to do more than just clean yourself. You barely even wrapped your hair with a towel before tripping into your room and falling on your bed. 

You yelped when you felt something hard like at your back and you leaned up on your elbow to see a small box with a note. 

From Lori. Use these next time. -Maggie

You sighed in relief when you saw it was emergency contraceptives and a pack of condoms, despite the pit in your stomach from knowing Maggie had seen you. It was something you should have already planned for yourself, the condoms, but it was hard to think straight when you were horny over Daryl Dixon. 

SHANE JUMPSCAPRE

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams

[cordeliawhohung]

Again same anon, no need to like post this one BUT the whole cig shotgun thing, i also think that he wouldn’t want her to inhale the smoke. He’d make her exhale it after holding it for a second or two—let her get the taste. “Can’t have you doin shit tha’s bad for ya, you already overwork yourself.” And perhaps he’d hold her jaw while he holds it to her lips.

Okay bye now I will spare you my devious thoughts

you sent this ages ago sorry but i was going through my inbox (sorry there's a lot) and i am just-

"Can I try?"

Simon nearly jumps out of skin at the soft whisper of your question. His neck snaps over his shoulder, taking in your tired form standing in the doorway, hands rubbing at your eyes. The cool summer breeze pulls at your nightshirt; it does nothing to hide the swaying parts of you that dance beneath the fabric as your bare feet trot against the cool cement of the balcony. Dark shadows dance across your face as you blink, waiting for your answer.

"Hmm?" he asks.

"Your cigarette," you clarify.

With the way his brows draw together, you would have thought the item had magically formed between his lips and he hadn't realized it until you pointed it out. Embers glow and flicker as he takes it into his fingers, making sure to hold it away from you as you lean against the railing next to him.

"You wanna try?" he asks.

You shrug. "Never have before."

Mulling your proposition over, he bites the insides of his cheeks as he studies you. He always enjoys when you're like this. Half awake and still trying to fight off thick prostration. Your eyes always seem to glimmer more. They dance in the moonlight as you stare at him, tongue wetting the inside of your lips. He swallows as he takes in the sight of them, so soft and sweet. Figures maybe he wouldn't mind putting something between them.

"Alright," he relents. Surprised, your eyes widen as you tilt your head, not having expected him to give in so quickly. He raises the cigarette, plumes of smoke traveling in its wake, yet he refuses to hand it over. "But don't inhale this shit, yeah? Holdin' it in your mouth'll do plenty. You're already workin' yourself half to death, don't need to speed that up."

Nodding your head in agreement, he finally pushes the cigarette toward you, but he still won't hand it off. Instead, he situates it so the filter faces you, and gently brings it to your lips, spoon feeding you the nicotine high himself. Warm fingers hold your chin steady, trying to keep the ash from falling on you. Eager lips wrap around the filter, and his eyes become inky as he soaks up the sight. Your lips hollow, dragging the smoke into your mouth, and you hum as the flavor washes over your tongue.

He recoils the moment you start coughing, puffs of smoke expelling from your mouth too fast to keep shape. His titter is slightly jeering as he shakes his head, shoving the stick back into his own mouth as you attempt to catch your breath.

"What'd I tell ya?" he chuckles.

"How do you keep doing that when it burns so bad?" you wheeze.

"Lot'sa practice, sweetheart."

As it usually does this late into the night, Simon's mind begins to wander. He thinks about that delicate sheen on your lips, how prettily they parted for him, and he feels that heavy libidinous ache swell deep in his stomach. There's a feeble attempt to hide his growing desire, and he smothers it with a quick drag just as your coughing begins to dwindle.

"C'mere," he prompts, head motioning for you to come closer.

Sucking in a breath of fresh air, you comply happily, pads of your feet slapping against the ground. Simon pushes himself away from the railing, standing tall as he brings his free hand up to your face. He relishes the softness of your skin underneath the thick callous of his thumb as he presses on your bottom lip.

"Open."

Lips parting, you watch in awe as he takes a long drag, eyes never leaving you for a second. He leans forward, mouth full of smoke as his lips hover above yours and then blows. Gently, it seeps between your teeth and fills your mouth, coating your skin in a haphazard mess. Your warmth pours into him as he holds your jaw steady, and it's then that he realizes he can't hold back.

Sparks flying, his discarded cigarette flies through the air as he flicks it away, lips crashing against yours just as it collides with the ground. Between the nicotine high and the taste of you, it can't be helped when his tongue breaks free from his mouth and into yours. You hum, the vibrations cutting straight into his chest as you wrap your arms around him. That hum quickly turns into a giggle as you prematurely end the kiss.

He huffs as his nose knocks against yours, silently begging for more. Withholding it from him, your hips begin to sway.

"Gonna come back to bed?" you ask.

Before he replies, he steals a quick kiss as his hands wander down to your hips. He pulls you closer, body colliding against him and his growing want.

"I'd never say no to that."

[facefullofsadness]

she said "fuck me like I'm famous" I said "okay"

model!au

designer!giselle x assistant!reader

prompt - working as aeri uchinaga's assistant makes it hard for you to keep up, maybe in more ways than one

content - smut (power dynamic, pet names/praise kink, sloppy and desperate kinda rough sex, a lot of sucking (fingers, boobs, necks/marking), fingering, tribbing, possessive/corruption kink, a little hair pulling, squirting, multiple rounds/orgasms), alcohol consumption, exposition and tension building

wc - 8165

a/n - I was held at GUNPOINT to write "nda giselle" so here we are! worked diligently on this one so pls enjoy it o7!!! (please dear god I'm begging you)

- consider it my 800 follower special (even though I was supposed to write a 500 follower one but here we are <3, tysm for everything)

- OH MY GOD IVE BEEN WRITING THIS FOR A MONTH IM FREE

- additionally, dopamine is sooooo this fic coded but it's UNRELEASED YEW MFS SM ENTERTAINMENT I HATE YOU-!

an overwhelming rush of noise fills my ears as soon as I enter the busy dressing room.

I knew working as famous model and designer aeri uchinaga's assistant was gonna be loaded, but my first day on the job being the same day as one of miss uchinaga's bi-annual fashion show was not expected. I had to push through an uncountable amount of stylists, designers, assistants, coordinators, and makeup artists to make it to miss uchinaga's personal private dressing room, which was crowded in it of itself, even if she was the only model in that room.

she's famous for having the most grand fashion shows, especially the shows showcasing her summer and winter collections which she hosts twice every year for her designer brand, one around the start of the summertime, and one before the winter season, such as this one today. she spends months preparing for it every year, so it's even a wonder how it was possible for me to show up out of the blue so suddenly, literally on the day of one of the most important days of her year.

"you, rookie, did you bring the earrings set I asked of you?" the assertive voice of a man working on sorting through jewelry asks me, not even looking up from his work.

I stumble through the crowd of people to get to him, fishing the small box containing the earrings out of my bag.

"yessir, I fetched them this morning," I hand him the jewelry. he hums, snatching the box out of my hand to check the contents, continuing on with his sorting without even looking up at me.

"hey you, did you coordinate with the production crew about the lights? those things are important," a woman with a headset and a clipboard approached me.

"ah yes miss, they said they'd readjust the color to a cooler tone," I reply, nodding my head.

"good," a simple response before turning away and scurrying off.

"where's that fucking assistant- you! are you miss uchinaga's assistant?" an aggressive voice calls out for me near the vanity table.

I whip my head around and hurry over, "yessir, I'm her new assistant!"

he groans in annoyance and side eyes me, "whatever, took you long enough. get the hairdryer quickly we don't have all day."

I nod furiously before searching the room overloaded with items for said hairdryer, looking through the cart of hair and makeup equipment.

I hurried back to him and handed over the instrument before commotion increased, a firm and loud voice announcing, "miss uchinaga to proceed with hair and makeup!"

suddenly, the aforementioned lady herself exits a black curtain from across the room, adorning a beautiful black dress that hugs her figure perfectly, lacey sleeves flowing down her arms, her curves accentuated gorgeously.

a lump gets stuck in my throat as she sways her way towards the director's chair propped in front of the vanity. I lower my gaze and bow my head slightly as she passes by me, the breeze that follows her strut hitting my frozen-still body and making my breath hitch in anxiety. she comfortably sits herself down in the black chair, barely noticing my presence.

"hellooooo? rookie? get a fucking grip!" a female voice snaps me out of my trance accompanied by loud clapping in front of my face. "pay attention! can you get the goddamn hand mirror?"

"yes of course, I'm sorry miss!" I nervously pick at my fingers and push through the crowd again, rummaging through the cart for the item she requested.

"god how useless, why did you even choose her boss?" the same stylist gossips towards miss uchinaga.

"choose who? what are you talking about?" her graceful and soft voice replies nonchalantly.

"that nobody over there, searching through the cart like a homeless person in a dumpster, so gross..." the stylist continues, my stomach churning at the vile words.

miss uchinaga hums unsurely, "be more specific on who you're talking about, I don't have time for useless banter."

the stylist clears her throat, "your, assistant, I guess if that's what you can call whoever that thing is."

my hands clench into fists at the vicious comments she keeps making until miss uchinaga says, "she's here for a reason isn't she? means she's qualified."

the short and simple response shuts the stylist up quickly, returning to her work. I reluctantly hand the mirror over to her, her grip aggressive as she snatches the item from my hand. and I continue to meet the demands of the people in the busy room, running back and forth fetching things for people and assisting in helping everyone as best as I could.

it had to have been at least two hours of constant movement and working, everyone in that room not stopping for even a second. eventually, all the work that needed to be done was finished and we all had to proceed to the stage and start the show. I was tasked to stay behind and wait for miss uchinaga as her assistant, ready to help her with anything she needed.

and so gradually, the room had cleared of all the people, leaving an unfamiliar silence to hang in the air, my ears almost ringing from the emptiness. I stood there nearly in the middle of the room, feet glued to the floor and my head hanging down, eyes affixed onto my shoes. only but the soft rustling movement of the woman in front of me was faintly heard.

her melodious humming filled the room warmly, a comfortable tune dancing off her lips as she touched herself up and checked her appearance. I continue to accompany her and leave her to do her own thing, more focused on the carpet under where I stand.

"hey, come here will you?" the soft sounding but firm request summons me forward, moving to stand behind her chair.

"m-miss uchinaga?" I curse under my breath at the stutter, embarrassed by it.

she seemingly dismisses the mistake and continues, "you're my new assistant, aren't you?"

I gain enough confidence to lift my gaze and look at her through the mirror, the woman still diligently observing herself, "yes miss, I am."

"what's your name then assistant?" she fixes her hair one last time and adjusts her jewelry before turning and facing me, leaning back against the vanity with her arms crossed.

"y/n l/n miss..." my gaze falters under her intense stare, eyes falling towards the floor again.

her hum in curiosity makes my eyes shoot back up towards her face.

"huh." she hums, observant gaze trailing my figure, up and down slowly.

I feel small under her stare, wanting to curl up and let the earth swallow me whole, feeling like aeri uchinaga is tearing me apart bit by bit with her critical eyes.

instead, a small but obvious smirk tugs at her lips, "cute."

a furious blush climbs my cheeks and spreads across my face at her quick insignificant comment that still had made my heart swell and increase the speed at which it beat.

before any more words could be exchanged, she pushes herself off the table, handing her phone and keys to me, "you're with me, stand backstage and just watch, drive me home after."

I put her items into my bag and nod, following her out of the room and towards the stage. a cacophony of sounds fill the room once again as we hurriedly make our way there, people scrambling around with last minute touch-ups on their models.

the production crew checks in with miss uchinaga, confirming the setup of the stage from the lights to the props, as well as the flow of the show and every other detail she demanded information on. I stand right behind her and listen in, making sure if she needs anything I'd be ready to assist. they finish their discussion swiftly, the crew rushing back to their stations and miss uchinaga ushering the two of us towards an empty area with a clear view of the stage, the audience members sitting around and chatting having been in sight as well.

"you get the princess treatment for today pretty," she turns to me, a pleased look on her face.

the clutch on my bag hardens at her soft words, feeling my face heat up, "th-thank you, miss uchinaga…"

"y/n, call me aeri," her voice is gentle but low as she tells me what to do.

I stutter in response, "but, miss uchinaga, I'm- I'm not… I don't think it's that appropriate y-yet…"

"please y/n, we're gonna be together for a while so you should get used to saying my name, darling," she takes the smallest step towards me, her presence towering over me.

I feel her stare drill holes into my soul, her intimidating aura overwhelming me. she traps me when I look up into her eyes, unable to move my sight away from her. my stomach fills with butterflies, the beautiful goddess before me having such an alluring air to her. even in this crowded venue, filled to the brim with busy people, they're all tuned out, feeling like me and her were the only two to exist in this moment.

fuck, how am I supposed to work with her?

"got that, cutie?" the pet names continuing to make me want to implode.

I swallow and nod pathetically, "mhm."

"say my name then, pretty," she demands, her siren-like eyes searing my skin.

"a-aeri…"

"good girl, y/n."

oh my god, what the fuck.

"miss uchinaga!" a voice calls for her, snapping me out of the trance she put me under.

the woman in front of me huffs and turns towards the man with a headset that had poked his head into the room, searching for her.

"miss, you're on soon," he pants, motioning for her to get moving.

she raises her eyebrows and nods slightly at him in approval, shooing him away before she turns back to me.

"enjoy the show okay?" her tone is calm and comforting, laying a gentle hand on my shoulder and patting me, giving it a final squeeze, strutting away after I nod my head at her request.

the clicking of her heels fades and once she's completely out of sight, I release a deep breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding in. I clutch at my heart, bunching up the material of my sweater, feeling it beat out of my chest. my head is dizzy and my shoulder burns, the effect and touch she had on me still lingering, feeling my knees buckle at the mere thought of her, leaning back against a nearby wall for stability.

though I didn't have long to recover as the lights on the stage dimmed and the runway lit up, whispering from backstage heard faintly as music starts, the first model swaying their way onto the catwalk. I try my best to ignore the pounding of my heart as aeri uchinaga's winter collection is displayed on the models that walk across the stage.

the outfits are beautiful, stylish coats and jackets adorning the range of models, the clothes all dark colors but still with a certain attractive charm. arrangements of sweaters, slacks, and bags that compliment every outfit perfectly, each piece meticulously and specifically picked out to match each other. I'm mesmerized by the variety of fashion that these models are crowned in, aeri and her team's hard work apparent with the quality and effort put into every thread.

I become so engrossed and enamored by the show, that as soon as it starts does it end, the last of the models strutting off the stage finally as the winter collection showcase concludes. the music continues however, aeri suddenly appearing, swaying her way into the middle of the runway as the audience applauds. her ethereal aura palpable, presence so grand even while she's simply walking. making it to the center, she gives the audience a graceful bow, a charming smile, and an elegant wave before turning and sashaying off the stage once again.

mid my own applause does aeri emerge from the curtain separating me and the main part of the backstage area, pushing her curtain bangs out of her face with her fingers.

"how was it, princess?" she asks genuinely, tilting her head to the side as she awaits my answer.

my heart begins to pound once again, feeling like she really wanted to hear my honest opinion.

"not that how I think matters-" she immediately interrupts me.

"why wouldn't it? you're practically becoming my second-in-command, I wanna know how you think, see how truly compatible we are."

a sweet smile emerges onto her cherry colored lips, eyes and expression expectant for my response.

I nervously reply, "that's... really thoughtful of you, a-aeri."

her soft giggle permeates through the small space, my chest thumping at the sound, "don't mention it, just tell me how you feel."

"well, I think it was truly excellent," I state confidently.

her face looks pleased, but she looks as if she was waiting for more details, and so I continue, "the color palate was so tasteful, you and the brand have always been good at darker colors, I know that's your specialty. though they can be perceived as dull, it was so masterfully crafted that it didn't feel boring in the slightest. it was even elevated if I can say, accessories perfectly matching with each outfit, from the jewelry to the bags, incredible."

I got so lost in my enthusiasm about the display that I had practically spaced out, unaware to the joyous woman in front of me. looking back at her, an excited expression lay on her face, cheeks plump and smile wide watching as I rambled. her crescent eyes smiled at me, hair falling perfectly around her face and resting at her shoulders, just so beautifully happy.

feeling flustered, I stutter, "oh! I uhh, didn't mean to ramble so much, miss uch- a- aeri... I apologize."

"don't, I like it," whispering simply.

under her heart-throbbing stare, I look away, "we-well! we must get going, there's still your after party to attend."

she groans, "ughhh, fuck the after party, I don't care. too tired anyway, bossing people around all day to get things right is exhausting."

I return my gaze back towards the bored-looking woman, "but this is still your event, it might be strange if you're absent."

"why, are you gonna stop me? hm doll?" her eyes are lethal staring into me.

"m-miss... all I'm saying is the people might be disappointed... I can't stop whatever you'd like to do however, you're the boss of course..."

"mhm, and don't forget that okay? you listen to me," aeri's tone is firm and dangerous, dripping with authority but also sensuality, suddenly appearing almost right against me.

she crosses an arm over her chest and rests her other arm's elbow on it, her free hand slowly pointing a finger at my wide-eyed expression.

"got that, darling?" she uses the stray digit to tilt my head up, placing it under my chin, her touch igniting a fire on my skin.

I pathetically hum in response, sounding closer to a terrified squeak more than anything.

"you listen so well, don't you?" she smiles almost sinisterly, taking her fingertip and tapping it cutely on my nose.

she steps back slightly, giving me space again to which I release a deep breath, feeling like I can breathe.

aeri sighs annoyedly, "but you're right, my absence at my OWN show's after party is peculiar, but I don't wanna go. truly too exhausted for it. let's go home."

"I'll have to inform the organizers that you won't be attending. some important individuals were hoping to talk to you tonight," I respond, ever-so-slightly gaining back my composure.

"mm-mm, don't stress yourself about it," she shakes her head, resting her hands on her hips, "I'll shoot them a text and make the team send out packages with letters of me apologizing for it, no big deal."

"still aeri, I have to organize that-"

"I told you already y/n-ie, I got it, don't worry."

I let her win, a serious and unmoving expression on her face, "alright."

she gives a slight nod of approval, suddenly taking my hand gently, holding me by my fingers and leisurely dragging the two of us off. I let her guide me, aeri saying her goodbyes and goodnights to the hard-working team, telling certain individuals she would be contacting them in a bit to inform them of her absence. she leads me through the entire venue, seemingly having the most inconspicuous route to her car memorized, avoiding as many people as possible.

we arrive at the parking garage, her matte black sports car emerging into view.

"I'm driving?" I ask hesitantly.

she hums in approval, "never driven something like this before have you?"

the nervous nature apparent in my tone of voice, "that obvious?"

a giggle echoes through the garage full of expensive, high-end vehicles, "no worries darling, just think of a normal car with a bit more kick."

she was right, I had never driven such an expensive and sleek looking vehicle before, nervous to the possibility that I could damage it, especially knowing it was aeri's car.

it was almost as if she read my mind, "I have at least a handful more that you can crash, it's no problem if it gets damaged."

I choke and cough, "I'd hope I wouldn't get into a car crash!"

she turns and smiles at me, arriving in front of the vehicle, "you won't, of course you won't."

I reluctantly nod, dragging myself over and opening the passenger side's door, aeri climbing in with a small grin. I close the door, making my way over to the driver's seat, trying to breathe and calm my nerves. I settle into the custom printed leather seats, dark red embroidery stitched into the pristine interior, a fresh and clean smell wafting through the car.

"it is a ferrari though, so maybe don't damage it," she comments quietly, looking over at the woman whose legs are crossed and hands placed neatly on her lap, head leaning back against the seat with her eyes closed.

aeri is so incredibly nonchalant about the situation, it somehow comforts me, starting up the car and gaining enough courage to start driving. the trip back to her place was silent, peaceful cruising through the city, illuminated by the street lights, the two of us quiet in the car. she was right, it wasn't too bad but it felt like I could speed up and go too fast at any moment, so I tried to get a feel of how the vehicle operated, focusing on getting used to it. every other stoplight, I'd check the gps and then up at aeri, her resting figure so serene, the girl so still and pretty, unsure if she was really asleep or just resting her eyes.

her beauty is so utterly attractive and alluring, making my pulse rise every time I lay my eyes on her. what trouble will I possibly encounter working for this stunning woman? and how long will I survive?

almost in the blink of an eye, we arrive at her apartment complex. I find a parking space for the car, skipping the valet according to aeri's instruction, not wanting anyone else to touch her car. once parked, I finally let out a sigh, turning to my boss whose eyes flutter open, feeling the car's movement stop.

elegantly, like a princess, she sits upright and brushes stray hairs from her face, "home?" her voice raspy.

I nod carefully, climbing out of the car and opening her door. she tiredly stumbles out as I hold out my hand for her to grasp, taking it and stabilizing herself. her touch ignites my skin once again, her fingers lacing around mine once she's standing, shooting me a charming smile.

once again, I felt my stomach flutter, my whole body just succumbing to the ravishing woman whose hand was firmly holding mine, pulling me towards the elevator up to the penthouse. the ding of the elevator arriving and opening up to her place forced me back to reality, eyes widening at the sight of the grand residence.

walking inside and removing our heels, I got to absorb the surroundings. the motion detected light shone over us, not too bright but enough to outline the rest of the place. it was tall and spacious, high roofs supported by shiny white pillars, the wooden floors dark and clean, grand piano next to the comfortable array of sofas and armchairs, expensive accessories from the brand decorating the empty spaces on the walls, the breathtaking view over the city being the most prominent feature, large glass window panes displaying the incredible sight, leaving me in utter awe.

"like it? it's pretty nice," aeri's softly asks from beside me.

"you've got a magnificent place," I reply, still quite awestruck.

she chuckles once, letting go of my hand and walking forward, flipping the switches that dimly light up the living room in a warm tone, "you're a very honest individual, aren't you y/n?"

"is that a bad thing?" you ask, a little reluctantly, following her around.

"it's exactly the type of thing that's necessary in this industry, especially since you're working for me. honesty and transparency are some of the biggest traits I value out of my employees, within people in general really," she flips on the light switch to her big walk-in closet, "and you're my direct right hand, the most important person that I need to have be honest with me."

I stand by the door, taking in the room. it was such a large room for solely being a closet, clothes, accessories, and shoes all lined up against the walls, an almost never-ending selection presented on display. it was set-up like a designer store, except this was aeri uchinaga's own personal closet in her home.

she stood in front of a vanity area on the other side of the room, tiredly removing her jewelry from herself, hearing the metal rings clang against the marble countertop. she was quite careless with the items, throwing them off of her with little to no regard for damage, making me cringe slightly, worried they might break.

"come sit," she calls me over softly, motioning with her hand behind her towards the seating at the middle of the room.

I walk over, observing her diligently remove her earrings, sitting down with my legs crossed, once again watching her through the mirror.

"have you eaten yet, y/n?" the unexpected question startles me slightly.

"I can't remember the last time I have today," I respond honestly.

she hums, "well, let me get cleaned up and share dinner together then, shall we?"

I blink confusedly, eyes wide, looking like a deer in headlights at what she said.

"I need to get to know you more anyway, I think while I have you here, it's as good a time as any."

"it's quite late and you're tired, I should get going home..." I bite the inside of my cheek, her eyes staring back at me through the reflection.

"I insist," her voice is firm.

I gulp down my nervousness, nodding my head at her, aeri smiling at me, "good."

I watch as she reaches around to the zipper on the back of her dress, finished with the removal of her jewelry. her fingers struggle to get a good hold onto the metal and she calls me over.

"y/n, come help me with this zipper," aeri's firm but alluring voice demands me, urging me to walk up behind her, her back filling my view.

I swallow down a lump in my throat as my shaky hands reach up towards the metal resting at the top of her back. I grip the zipper and slowly pull downwards, being careful not to drag too quickly or damage the material of the designer dress. I feel the intense stare of my boss drill holes into me through the mirror, her hands moving her hair out of the way.

"nice and slow pretty, don't wanna damage anything do you?" her raspy voice fills my ears.

"y-yes ma'am," I stutter out, continuing to unzip her dress.

I feel sweat come from my palms, the speed at which I was unzipping her dress achingly slow, even though it wasn't even that gradual. carefully, aeri's back exposed itself, her milky skin emerging into view. my hands feel unsteady as they work, my breathing becoming uneven too, nervous to mess up and also seeing the woman's bare back. I try to simply focus on the task at hand, staring directly at the zipper and nothing else.

"you got it, doing so well for me," aeri deeply breathes out, her eyes half-lidded and seductive through the reflection.

her gaze makes me absolutely weak, I feel fucking insane.

eventually, the torture is over though, reaching the end of the zipper's trail.

I step back and stutter, "y-you can finish cl-cleaning up, I'll wait in the living room!"

I turn away and speed walk out of the closet, patting my skin dry from the nervous sweat, plopping myself down on the sofa and covering my face with my clammy hands. oh my god I wanna scream. what the actual fuck am I getting myself into?

the night calmed down slightly. we shared a light dinner while aeri asked questions about me, why I was interested in the position, what my goals are, what do I wanna learn from working with her, how long I plan to work for her, all answers which she seemed to be satisfied with. she asked about me personally too, where I'm from, my background, my education, my interests, all of which she was intrigued by.

we talked quite normally for a few hours, having had a couple of drinks already, feeling the intoxication climb up slowly. eventually, we moved to the couch to converse more comfortably. she sat right down next to me, handing me a glass.

"hoping you enjoy red wine too," aeri settles close to me, leaning against her arm propped up on the back of the couch, taking a sip from her glass.

I take a sip from mine, "it's sweet so I'm happy."

"ah good, I like a drink just not when it tastes like it," she giggles.

"oh," she readjusts herself, "let me ask you, are there any limits or boundaries you'd like to set for yourself with me right now?"

her question catches me off guard, "I'm sorry?" I ask, almost confused.

she catches the puzzled sound in my voice, "well, I wanna know if there's anything you wouldn't wanna do. I'll have you running a lot of different errands, some of them you could say are... physically taxing?"

her voice lingers through the dimly lit room, her face illuminated by the shine of the moon and city lights through the window, "I'm simply curious is all miss l/n, could and would you do any and everything for me?"

there's something sinister in the way she talks, her voice deep, the words coming from her throat in an almost inaudible rasp, but loud enough to resonate through my head. her question rings in my ears, what could she mean?

"I will perform any task you set for me to the best of my capability," I give her a simple and general answer to respond, unsure of what else I can say.

she hums, seemingly pondering, her face looking quite deep into thought. she looks up at me, capturing my stare with hers, the energy suddenly shifting when we lock eyes. a smirk tugs at the corner of her lip slowly, making my stomach flip. her gaze is filled with an allure of seduction, her sudden fingertip tracing my exposed knee close to her making me jolt in surprise, a chill running down my back.

"any task huh?"

my breath hitches when the cold condensation of her wine drips onto my knee, trailing down my leg. she taps her glass against my knee again, droplets splashing off and running down my skin, making me shiver slightly. I watch as she lifts the glass off of me and gulps down another sip of the sweet alcohol, her lips tainted red.

I hum in agreement to the question, the sound coming from my lips almost inaudible, getting stuck in my throat from how flustered I became.

she holds her glass with her other hand now, returning the hand that touched my knee back to it and placing it on me, her fingers dragging across my skin, caressing it, "god, you're cute."

her fingers trail up and down the exposed part of my thigh, playing very slightly with the hem of my skirt, not trailing any further up. her touch absolutely ignites me on the inside, constant chills going through me, my breathing becoming uneven.

"aeri..." I whisper quietly, the feeling of her touching me too much for me to handle.

"what is it darling? use your words," her voice is soft but menacing, hand grabbing the underside of my knee to pull me closer to her, my body pushed up against her.

I gasp at the movement, almost spilling my wine. she looks down at me, a hazy look in her half-open siren eyes, her lips slightly parted and wet as she licks them clean. my pulse rises impossibly high, feeling like my heart is about to burst out of my chest, aeri's hand trailing higher on my thigh, crawling slowly under my skirt.

I tear my gaze away from her stare and grip her wrist, clearing my throat, "a-aeri... I don't think we should be this close..."

she grabs my wrist back, sliding her hand into mine and interlacing our fingers, bringing my hand to her mouth, "well pretty, I just can't help it you know?"

I swallow down the lump in my throat and tense as her plump lips press against my hand, her eyes fluttering shut as she kisses it achingly slow. the way she moves is so mesmerizing, her head craning to the side as she kisses it again, the sound of her releasing her lips from my skin resonates, feeling the wet spot she left on me.

I break out of the spell she has me under and slip my hand from her grasp, gripping the hem of my skirt down, crossing my legs tightly as the desire for her grew within me, "we should call it a night, you've already had a few drinks..."

she doesn't let up, fingers dragging across my arm, "I just need to know more about you y/n, aren't you curious too?"

I shiver at her question, "aeri... I can't... we shouldn't..."

"what's stopping us?" she grabs the glass out of my hand and places both of them on the coffee table, freeing our hands.

she pulls me by the collar of my sweater, her face coming closer to mine.

her lips hover right over mine as she whispers against them, "no one has to know."

I place my hands against her chest, holding her back from coming any closer to me, my breathing shaky, "you... you don't want this... you're just drunk aeri..."

"I do, I do want this y/n. push me away if you don't want this too," she holds one of my wrists, "please... stop me."

her voice whispered to me, the pleading desperation in her tone evident. and fuck me, it worked, my entire body burning, feeling myself start to throb.

I hold in my breath, resting my forehead against hers, "I... I do want this too, I don't want you to stop..."

there's a glint in aeri's eyes at my words, her big hand immediately grasping my neck and pulling me into her, smashing her blood red lips against mine. the kiss is greedy and desperate, her mouth molding against mine sloppily, our breathing heavy as tiny noises escape my throat. I taste the sweet red wine on her juicy soft lips as I melt further into her, feeling my entire body heat up in desire, clutching at her tank top and bunching it up in my hands, pulling her closer, making sure there's absolutely no space in between us. her other hand grips under my knee, pulling me into her lap, straddling her as she tilts her head to the side to make out deeply with me.

her hand grips my thigh under my skirt tightly, other hand pulling my neck in as she slips her tongue into my wet mouth. I sigh out at the intrusion, letting her move freely against my needy tongue. the flavor of alcohol and saliva intoxicate me completely, her deep groans vibrating in my mouth, making me whimper in response against her lips. my hands thread through her perfectly soft hair while both of her hands grip my thighs, rubbing them up and down before squeezing my hips, finally landing on my exposed waist, sliding under my cropped sweater, and guiding me on her lap.

I moan deeply against her, my core grinding on hers, aeri also releasing a long pleasured groan at the sensation. we finally pull away, leaning our foreheads against each other as we both pant, out of breath.

"fuck y/n, you're perfect," she sighs out, chest rising and falling, clutching the locks of her hair tightly to keep her close to me.

"aeri, I need you..." I desperately whine, my core aching painfully.

I pull back slightly to look her in the eyes and they're dark, clouded with lust and desire, which makes the pulsing between my thighs pound harder.

her voice is low and sultry, "tell me how badly."

the grip on my waist tightens as she guides my body once again, brushing my center against her own, making both of us moan.

"so, fucking, badly," I gasp out with each grind of my hips.

her hands guide me slowly but roughly, the contact of our clothed cores driving me insane, my stomach wanting to explode from the tightness. I grip her tightly as she continues to grind me against her, her fingers digging into my skin, my eyes squinted shut as the pleasure gradually but intensely builds inside me. I try to keep my eyes open, looking down at her focused stare, so hypnotized by the moment, feeling her gaze memorize the look of desire painted all over my face.

"let me help you," she whispers against my chest, one hand pulling my sweater up and over my breasts.

I release a hand from her hair and grip her shoulder with a gasp, the one unclasping my bra.

"it's okay," her teeth pulling my bra off, "trust me beautiful, I've got you."

her words make me lighten my hold on her shoulder, allowing her to keep going. she hums softly before exposing my boobs to the air, turning my cheeks pink in embarrassment. it swiftly washes away though as aeri's lips mumble against my skin.

"so pretty," my breath hitches when she attaches her mouth to my nipple, sucking the bud in and flicking her hot wet tongue against it.

I moan out loudly, the sensation had my eyes rolling back, arching myself into her as I grinded my own hips against her lap. her tongue swirled around my nipple, the saliva trailing down my chest, aeri using it to spread against my entire tit. I pant as she harshly but quickly bites down around my bud, soothing the shocking pain with her warm muscle. she switches to my other boob, spitting onto my nipple before swiping her tongue, sucking my entire tit into her mouth as she plays with the bud on her tongue.

"fuck aeri..." I whine in pleasure, both of my hands gripping at her shoulders, fingernails digging into them.

"like that?" she asks incoherently against my boob.

I nod mindlessly as I feel her smile against my chest, "already losing your mind huh? so sensitive baby."

she chuckles deeply, the sound vibrating on her tongue as it moves against my nipple. with one hand on my waist, she brings her other hand under my skirt again, creeping up my inner thigh and caressing her knuckle against my clothed clit. I jolt in her hold, biting down on my lip to suppress an embarrassingly loud whimper.

"don't hold back, let me hear you," she detaches from my chest, cupping my face and pulling me in.

her fingertip traces against my slit, "you're so fucking wet darling, you did want this, didn't you?"

"uh huh," I pant out, her finger pressing against my clit.

"fuck, I'm gonna ruin you."

aeri kisses me again, locking lips with mine, slipping her tongue into my mouth as I return her desperation with as much passion, thrashing my tongue back against hers. I feel her carefully push my panties to the side, two fingers sliding around my clit and dipping in and out of my slick slit, getting them wet from my dripping pussy.

"god you are soaked, you poor thing..." she teases after releasing me from her lips, teeth dragging my bottom lip, "must ache so bad."

"it does, fuck it does, aeri please please please," I beg desperately, "please fuck me..."

she groans against my lips, "you are so pretty when you beg, I'm gonna get so addicted to every part of you."

I whimper when she pinches my clit, soothing it when she rubs it in circles, "especially with this perfect pussy of yours."

aeri starts to leave wet kisses across my neck as her fingers flick my clit back and forth, gradually getting faster. I lace my fingers through her hair, gripping her head against my neck as my other hand clutches onto her upper arm for support as she continues to play with my pussy. I'm gasping for air, feeling the breath knocked out of me with how overwhelming the sensation of pleasure within me grows. her fingers slide down to my opening, gathering the slick and slapping her hand against my folds.

she inserts those two fingers inside of me, slipping them in easily due to my wetness, her digits completely sheathed by my walls. I let out a blissful cry at the action, digging my nails into her skin, making her hiss.

she groans with me, "my god you're so tight, your pussy just sucked me in. you feel perfect around me."

carefully, aeri draws her digits back, thumb rubbing at my clit, before sinking them inside me again, fingertips landing against that spot so delicious that it pulls a moan of delight from my lips. her tongue drags across the length of my perspiring neck, hand working smoothly against my sopping cunt.

"fuck! right there aeri yes, so good..." I sigh breathlessly, hips grinding back against her hand.

"taking me so well princess, that's it," she coos.

she starts speeding up, a consistent but accelerating pace as she plunges in and out of my hole, the sounds of our pants and gushing of my entrance filling my ears, aeri's lips against my jaw.

she trails her lips up to my ear and whispers, "such a good girl."

her voice drips with seduction, making my eyes roll back harder when she slips in a third finger. I release a euphoric scream, the intrusion full of pain and pleasure as it stretches me open, burning like hellfire but felt so unfathomably heavenly.

"you're gonna take everything I give you darling, fuck I'm going insane," immediately thrusting her fingers into me swiftly.

"ohhhhh goddddd..." one long continuous loud moan is forced from my throat, each pound of her hand sending me into oblivion.

I bounce on her hand, her long thick digits curling perfectly inside of my core, spilling cum all over her palm, dripping down onto her thighs. she feels so unbelievably good, her moaning right next to my ear, feeling pleasure just from watching and fucking me, her sounds continuing to impossibly turn me on.

"gonna cum on my fingers, doll? wanna make a mess in my lap?" her voice breathy and raspy, questions sounding more like a demand.

I mumble an affirmative response, something I doubt she can even make out properly, a dark chuckle in my ear at my incoherence. her lips trail down my neck, placing sloppy markings across my collar, lifting my top up again and feeling her hot tongue lap rhythmically against my nipple. her hand spread wide to capture my boobs, sucking both buds into her mouth and brushing her teeth down against them, switching between flicking her tongue and biting down on my hardened nipples.

the sensations drive me into a blinding release of ecstasy, my eyes screwed shut and mouth hanging open, screaming out in complete and utter bliss as my pussy gushed around aeri's skillful hand, drenching the both of us. my head is thrown back while my hands claw at the woman holding me close, mouth still working on my chest, vibrations against my nipples from her moaning while she fucks me through my intense climax.

she gradually lessens the speed at which she thrusts into me, coming to a halt when she achingly slowly pulls her dripping fingers out of my leaking cunt and releases with a pop, cum flowing out with her digits. she drags her fingers across my slit, spreading my slick around the entire area, rubbing against my sensitive bundle of nerves. I thrash at the stimulation, the feeling too much for my body, too soon.

she pulls her hand back from my core, her mouth releasing from my chest so she can bring the hand up to her lips, sticking her tongue out and letting her fingers drag across it, licking up every drop of cum on her digits. even though my vision is hazy, the sight makes me gulp, feeling my center pulsate. I collapse onto her as she lets me fall into her neck, nose brushing against her nape. my body feels exhausted, her hands sliding under my sweater and wrapping her toned arms around me, hugging my limp figure while rubbing my back soothingly.

aeri kisses my shoulder, her lips mumbling against it, "good girl."

I bury my face into her warm neck, nuzzling my face against her skin as I try to regain my energy, resisting passing out. slowly, I drag my head away, resting my forehead against hers with my eyes still closed, relishing in the serenity for just a second.

I flutter my eyes open just enough to see her, a soft look on her face as she quietly asks on my lips, "are you okay, princess?"

her concern for me send butterflies erupting in my stomach, feeling so cared for, a contrast to her demeanor just a little while ago.

I sigh out a response of affirmation before breathing out, "one more..."

the two words ring in aeri's ears, the sweet look on her face shifting ominously.

"you mean it," it was more of a statement than a question.

I nod and a smirk spreads across her lips.

she pulls me up, sliding her shorts and panties down her legs, slipping your underwear off of me too, "good, because I'm throbbing like crazy and I need you to ease the ache."

aeri maneuvers our bodies until our legs are intertwined, holding me by my waist as my pussy hovers over hers. she slides her fingers up her slit, letting out a breathy sigh, before bringing her dripping digits up to my lips.

"taste what you've done," opening my mouth and sucking on her fingers, cleaning them of her delectable nectar.

she watches intently as my tongue works around her fingers, her eyes blown with desire and her wet lips stained red, slightly parted as I slowly blink up at her, meeting her stare.

"how fucking obedient, you just wanna be mine don't you? you're gonna love working for me, I'm gonna use you however I want and you'll enjoy it because you're mine, got it?" she growls, gripping my jaw with her fingers still in my mouth, pulling my face closer, "I own you y/n l/n."

"all yours..." I choke on her digits.

her hand slips from my face, returning to my waist and pulling me down to her pussy, guiding me to slide against her slippery core. moans drag out from both of our mouths, my forehead resting on hers, overstimulation still present in my body as our clits brush against each other, aeri grinding our cunts again. her fingers dig into my sides, sliding her pussy upwards to meet the grind of my hips. I reciprocate the motion, moving to meet her thrusts, our cunt juices mixing with one another.

the feeling is so orgasmic, panting onto each others lips as I fuck myself against her, the squelching sounds loud from our slippery centers. she cries moans onto my lips, threading my fingers through her soft dampened hair, massaging her head and pulling her into a messy makeout, swallowing her pleasurable noises. I suck on her tongue as she increases our pace, forcing my body to keep up with her grinding, her nails scratching my skin.

I release her tongue with a pop, her saliva coating my mouth as she groans out at every other thrust, "you feel- so fucking- good, ugh y/n!"

"aeri, aeri, aeri, aeri..." I chant her name incomprehensibly.

her speed becomes relentless, wanting more control as she lifts me up and pins me down against the sofa, my back against the plush cushions and hands falling from her hair, aeri's legs and entire body holding me down as she drills me harder. our cunts are impossibly slick, sliding against each other so pleasurably, our clits perfectly making out messily, wetness continuing to leak from our pussies. she brings her hand to grasp my thigh, hugging my leg to her body, the other hand grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling my head back. my hands clutch the material of her thin shirt, holding it hard enough to tear, not that anything other than aeri fucking me right now matters.

"I'm going fucking feral over this pussy, you're so perfect doll, you're all mine," she sounds so aggressive yet sexy as she ruins me.

the woman above me looks so strikingly other-worldly, the shine of her sweaty skin leaving her glowing in the faint lighting, her dampened hair flowing across her body, stray bangs sticking to her forehead, her strong arms gripping me possessively, her chest bouncing up and down so close to my heated face, her drenched and aching core slipping perfectly against mine. aeri uchinaga feels, looks, and is absolutely ethereal.

I feel my stomach tighten as her pace is unstoppable, so fast the couch even jerks from the movement. our moans are cries, screams of loud and complete bliss, her lips plump and hanging open, eyes rolled all the way back.

"I'm gonna fucking cum, I'm gonna fucking cum!" aeri cries with her raspy throat.

"please, please, cum with me!" I beg her, voice hoarse but audible, her eyes locking onto mine.

we stare into each other's eyes as we both burst, cum gushing from our pussies, squirting against our cunts. my vision goes blank and I see a blinding white light surge through my head, my body thrashing from the pleasure, the sensations causing screams to rip from my throat, hearing aeri groan just as delightfully. I feel our cum flow down my thighs, soaking my skirt and the cushion under us, unable to move regardless as my hands release their grip on her torn shirt.

I fall totally limp against the couch, aftershocks of the orgasm coursing through my body, making my entire figure jerk every so often. aeri collapses on top of me, carefully still, her hands releasing their tight grips on me, her head falling into the pillow I lay on, face against my cheek, her nose bumping my skin. her hot heavy gasps for air hit the side of my face as I bring my hand up to play with her hair, caressing her head.

suddenly, her arms slip under my sweater and wrap around my torso, lifting me up and flipping us over. the action makes me squeal, my limp body now resting on top of her thumping chest, breasts soft against mine. I melt into her warm embrace, feeling my body's exhaustion crawl over me, wanting to consume me into slumber. aeri starts her pleasant humming, vibrations from her chest transferring to mine, feeling my body ease and slowly succumb to sleep.

"my perfect girl, you're gonna be an amazing assistant, we're gonna work so well together," she whispers.

I hum in response and she pats my back, giving me approval to rest.

her hands caress me soothingly, kissing my forehead, "sleep with me, no one has to know."

[aurorawritestoescape]

DESTINIES INTERTWINED

General Marcus Acacius x f!reader x Lucilla

Summary: you spend a passionate night with your lovers.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, mff, unspecified age gap, soft!Marcus, soft!Lucilla, polyamorous relationship, praise, f!oral, unprotected piv, creampie, breeding, mention of lactation, power imbalance. Sorry for any inaccuracies about Ancient Rome. Pics are only for the mood, reader has hair, but no other physical description.

Word count: 3k

A/n: should I even explain myself? A horny goblin inside me wrote it. Hope you will like it! Love you all!💖

Soft Marcus kiss to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘 Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕

MASTERLIST

You hear him before you see him. His heavy steps echo through the vast halls of the palace and reach your ears even through the soft music that the servants are playing. Then the bedroom doors loudly open and he enters the room— a warrior, a leader, a conqueror, ready to discard the worries of his day, to offer rest to his mind and soul.

Lucilla and you lying on the bed, leaning on the pillows and holding each other close. You two have been kissing and talking quietly from time to time but the atmosphere, a perfect image of leisure and softness mere moments ago, gets electrified, charged with masculine energy. The servants leave immediately, knowing well that General Marcus Acacius does not allow anyone to see what he does to his women.

You can never believe how generously the gods blessed you. After a life of slavery and abuse you are now cherished as if you’re of noble descent. Even better, you feel loved.

Marcus freed you from the brutal hands of your owner and though you still are enslaved to an outside eye, you have never felt more free.

The General made you his servant first and you welcomed his order with gratitude. You were happy to serve such an honorable man. He and his wife were kind masters and they did not see an object when they looked at you. They saw a person. Not much time passed before you found yourself in bed with both Marcus and Lucilla. You three quickly became one, regularly drowning each other in pleasure and adoration. So you were not surprised when Mercus suggested intertwining your destinies forever.

You shouldn’t be nervous, having had plenty of time to get used to the General’s overwhelming presence. But his power, his strength, his intelligence and beauty struck you every single time like the first. Your heart is fluttering and you squirm against Lucilla’s shoulder, and always attentive to your mood, the woman envelops you in her arms tighter, sharing more of her warmth with you, while nothing but thin nightgowns separate your bodies.

“Soften your expression, my love. You’re scaring our little rose.”

Marcus pauses discarding his gear and turns to you, eyes piercing and dark reading your features.

“Is it the truth, my beautiful girl? Am I still a scare for you?” he asks, walking up slowly to the bed. His voice is gruff, molded by countless battles, but for the two of you it’s silky and soft.

“No, General.. Marcus,” you reply in a soft voice, big eyes looking up at the man with adoration and piety. The sound of his name on your lips and your devoted gaze do the trick— his face softens and he gives you a warm smile. You smile back shyly and Lucilla pecks your temple, laughing,

“Our General can be quite intimidating. Yet you and I know that he is as gentle as a warm summer breeze. For us.”

Marcus smirks and continues taking off his gear and undergarments and soon he’s standing naked next to the bed— a broad torso, strong, defined muscles glistening softly in the dim candle light, his big heavy cock swaying with every move. The sight of him takes your breath away.

He leans down and kisses his wife first as his chest hovers over you and the scent of rose oils caresses your senses.

Then it is your turn and he watches your face for a few seconds before he greets the beginning of a passionate night with you, planting a gentle kiss on your lips.

“How are my loves?” He asks, sitting down on the bed, facing you two, as you lick your lips, savoring his taste.

“She’s ready. Bona Dea favors us— the time is perfect,” Lucilla hurries to inform him, excitement painting her every word, “I played with her during the washing. She must come as much as possible for the seed to stick.”

Your cheeks start burning and your chest is heaving as you avert your gaze from the man in front of you but Marcus pinches your chin and gently lifts your face to his, searching for your eyes.

“Nothing to be shy about, my heart. You will give me.. give us a son, my heir and our destinies, mine, yours and Lucilla’s will be intertwined forever.”

His lips curve in a warm smile and you relax, taking a big calming breath. A whimper escapes your lips when his hand slides from your face to your chest and then belly. He puts his palm over it, rubbing it with his thick thumb and the heat of his touch, warming your skin through the sheer fabric, ignites your core and paints your face with need and desire.

“Yes, Marcus. I wish for nothing more.”

“Sweet little rose,” he coos at you and hunches down so he could press his face to your covered mound. The General takes a deep breath and you open your legs wider so he could revel in the scent of your arousal.

“Our beautiful rose,” his wife echoes, “Give her one more before we start, my love. I shall assist you.”

You turn your head to look at Lucilla’s gorgeous face, your eyes full of lust and gratitude and you reach for her to kiss you. She smiles and soon her soft lips are caressing yours, her tongue is licking into your whimpering mouth and you gasp against her lips when her husband latches onto your bare cunt.

Bunching up your nightgown over your waist Marcus is feasting on your sweet nectar, flowing generously from your clenching hole. Lucilla drew an orgasm from you mere minutes before and he’s reaping the fruit of her labor.

When he starts sucking on your puffy clit, you part from the woman’s lips and direct your gaze at the General eating you out, his lips and tongue celebrating your pussy, methodically bringing you to your high.

Overwhelmed by the sight of this man, strong and powerful, sliding his warm tongue through your glistening folds, you softly moan. Soon your whimpers fill the room as you're writhing in bed, running your fingers through his silky curls.

"She's close, my love, do not stop," Lucilla tells her husband and her hand slithers to your chest and pulls down the neckline of your nightgown.

She gently cups your breast and her fingers twitch your pebbled nipple. You moan as her touch sends a new surge of wetness to your entrance for her husband to lap up.

Marcus’s obsidian eyes flick up to the sight of his wife playing with your tits and he parts from your cunt to ask,

“Will you give me an honor to taste your milk when it’s time, my little rose? I would love your sweet breasts to nourish me, just like your little cunt is nourishing me right now.”

You moan at his words and eagerly nod, biting your lower lip, and Marcus’s slick-coated mouth curves into a content smile.

Lucilla whispers, “We love you,” against your temple and they continue pleasuring you, her hands kneading your breasts, his mouth on your soft pussy and soon you’re coming, shaking against Lucilla’s body, as she’s praising you throughout, while Marcus is quenching his thirst with your plentiful juices.

When he lifts his head his bearded chin and mustache are shining with the evidence of your ecstasy and you reach your arms towards him to pull him close and lick it off his face. Lucilla rushes to help you and soon the three of you are kissing, tongues and lips moving passionately in this lustful dance of three. You’re comforted by their bodies, caging you against each other, and you wish for this moment to last forever.

They give you only a moment of respite before Marcus takes your nightgown off and wraps his throbbing cock in his big veiny hand. He pumps it with a few languid strokes and you swallow loudly, watching his huge manhood grow even bigger. Marcus cups your cheek with a free hand and coos,

“Don't fret, little rose. You’ve taken me before. I promise to be slow and gentle.”

“Lie down between my legs, my love, so I could feel every thrust Marcus gives you,” Lucilla purrs, helping you to shift and you happily lean your back on her chest as she wraps her arms around you.

“This time it will take, I know it,” Lucilla continues, as her palms are gliding over your shoulders, breasts and belly in a calming gesture but your cunt tingles again at her soft touch.

Marcus lies between your spread thighs, his hard cock pressed to your mound, and gifts you another heady kiss, reminding you of his love and care.

“You’re strong, my love. You shall receive my seed and grow a new life for us three. You shall be mine forever.”

You breathe out a quiet ‘yes’ and he brushes your cheek with his lips at the same time pushing the tip of his cock into your soaked hole. You already feel the dull stretch and grasp Lucilla’s arms enveloping you and she whispers,

“I shall help you, little rose.”

Her hand slithers between Marcus’s and your bodies and she finds your throbbing clit, soaked with your cum and her husband’s saliva. She begins rubbing it in tight circles, murmuring in your ear,

“Relax, my precious, open up for him. Let Marcus fill you up with his seed. Sometimes I wish I had a cock too so we both could make you full with cum.”

You mewl, hearing her words, while the General thrusts in, close to bottoming out, and the fullness, the stretch that he bestows on you, quickly overwhelms you and your head whips to the side as your needy eyes search for your female lover.

“I need you,” you admit with a weak voice and she smiles down at you and moves your torso slightly to the side, freeing her chest.

She takes her breast out of her sheer nightgown and brings your face closer. You take a sharp breath at the sight of her beautiful tit and latch onto her puffy nipple. You flutter your eyes shut with pleasure, enjoying the sweetness of her skin, as she’s holding you close to feed you her breast better, while her husband’s cock prods deeper and deeper inside your wet hot cunt.

Her bud hardens in your mouth and she starts moaning while you’re licking it, swirling your tongue around and then suckling on the nipple. She knows how much you love it, the feeling so comforting and ecstatic, you whimper as your pussy gushes around Marcus’s cock.

The man grunts and growls, thrusting his fat stiffness little by little inside you,

“Oh gods, you are just as tight as our first night together. Remember, little rose, how long it took me to fully sheath my cock into your sweet cunt?” You move just your eyes to glance at him, not parting from his wife’s tit, and hum in agreement.

“I shall be slow now as well.” His voice is strained and he grinds his teeth, trying not to pierce you with his girthy length in one go, desperately wishing to bottom out but holding up for the sake of your comfort.

Finally his heavy balls slap your ass and you both moan loudly as his tip gives a kiss to your cervix. You feel so full and happy, your lips leave Lucilla’s breast and you take Marcus’s face in your hands to kiss him. The giant man moans as your soft mouth thanks him for the gift of his cock and you can’t make yourselves part from one another, reveling in the taste of your love and desire. He twitches deep inside you and not tearing his lips from yours he begins rolling his hips, fucking you slowly and gently, massaging his length with your snug walls and it feels like he fucks into your belly, into your soul and heart, so deep that you hold your breath, afraid to move, scared he will split you in two with the might of his manhood.

Judging by her soft moans, Lucilla senses his thrusts, as if he’s fucking both of you, and soon she starts grinding her pussy against your ass and you feel her wetness smeared on your skin.

Marcus’s heavy cock drugs in and out of your hole, caressing your core and pushing on the pleasure spot inside you. But you can not be that selfish as to enjoy this beautiful and hopefully fruitful night without your other lover so you part from the General’s mouth to murmur,

“Lucilla, I want—.”

“What is it, my love?” the woman behind you asks and Marcus pauses his movements to let you speak.

“I wish— wish to feel you on my tongue.”

Your voice is barely audible as shyness overtakes you but it’s loud enough for your lovers to hear.

“You wish to…,” Lucilla starts but you interrupt her. “Yes, sit on my face. Please,” you plea as you turn your head to look at her.

They’re quick to fulfill your wish and soon Lucilla gets from under you and plants her knees on the sides of your face. Her cunt is hovering over your mouth, as she’s facing her husband, who’s still buried deep in your heat. She discards her sheer nightgown and you take a sharp breath, as her gorgeous naked body blesses your vision. Her glistening folds are calling for you to taste them. So you pull her down with your hands on her thighs and, after opening up as wide as possible, you cover her cunt with the warmth of your mouth. You hungrily lick a path from her clit to her hole and gather all the wetness off her hot skin. She doesn’t let you wait long and soon she’s gushing more onto your waiting tongue.

“My little rose!” She gasps, surprised by your eagerness and lust, “So good to us,” she coos at you while her fingers are running through your hair. The woman moans when your tongue prods her hole and you slide it deeper while your hands knead her asscheeks and thighs.

“Is it nice, my love? Is our little rose making you happy?” Marcus asks his wife, who’s moving her body up and down now, fucking herself on your tongue.

“Oh, yes,” she breathes out and throws her head back in ecstasy.

You don’t see Marcus but you feel him, so much of him as he’s thrusting his cock into you with steady and deep strokes.

“You two are perfect and you’re mine,” he growls, “I am thankful to the gods for giving me both of you.”

Then you feel his big hands on your breasts and he begins caressing your nipples with his calloused fingers, making you whimper against his wife’s cunt.

“Wish your tits were full of milk already. The warm nectar would trickle down my hands right now,” he accentuates his words, kneading your breasts, “When you bare my child I shall make sure to have you on my cock and in my mouth every day, to devour your sweet cunt whenever you wish.”

His words make your heart and pussy flatter and he grunts, as his cock twitches deep in your core. Marcus increases the pace at which his stiffness is spearing you again and again and you grab Lucilla’s thighs to keep yourself from sliding up the bed.

“My love, her mouth is heaven,” the woman moans, addressing her husband and the next moment you hear their lips moving against each other. His cock, stuffing your soaked cunt, your tongue in her wet hole, the sensations pull you to the heights of pleasure and, overwhelmed with ove and lust, you come, moaning loudly, your sweet noises muffled by Lucilla’s cunt.

It sets a chain reaction and your walls, clamping around Marcus’s cock, make him explode and he begins shooting his hot load deep into your contracting core. He quickly fills you up and soon you hear the lewd noises of your cunt, squelching with his every thrust.

You desperately wish for Lucilla to come with you too and, still trembling with ecstasy under their naked bodies, you wrap your lips around her clit and suck, lick, flick it with the tip of your tongue bringing her higher to meet Marcus and you there. Soon you’re successful and she cries out your name until Marcus kisses her and drinks her moans.

When she stills, her cunt leaves your mouth and she lies down on the bed next to you.

You finally set your eyes on the General and marvel at his beauty — his strong muscles are bulging, the skin, dewy with sweat, is almost glowing in the warm candle light, his curls are tousled and some have fallen on his forehead. Your lover is panting heavily, descending from his hard climax. He gives you a warm smile as he coos,

“Look at you, my beautiful rose, your lips are coated with the evidence of Lucilla’s love for you. Let me…”

With that he leans down not pulling out and kisses you, licking the slick of your lips and chin.

“Do not spill the seed, my love,” Lucilla warns him and he hums against your mouth.

“Never, not a drop shall fall,” he mumbles, as his lips part from yours, “Your full cunt shall be plugged by my cock all night, little rose.”

You nod, barely having any strength to do so, and he carefully lies down next to you, gently turning your body on your side and you feel Lucilla’s arms embrace you from behind. Marcus’s manhood is still in your stretched hole and he puts your leg over thigh and bucks his hips to plug you better.

You revel in their warmth, adoration and love, resting between your lovers. They start talking about your future together, your baby and how they are going to take care of you two and you drift off with a happy and hopeful smile on your face.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic! Your feedback motivates me so much!❤️

Masterlist

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk

Tagging some lovelies who commented on the Wip post @ozarkthedog @fruityreads @604to647 @corazondebeskar-reads

If you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💕

[cherie-doll]

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Summer With Them

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro, Phillip Graves, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

ׂׂૢ Y’all have no idea how much i hate summer i defrost from vampire to weird nerd -1000 aura points or whatever they’re saying on the clock app

Anyways i finished this while at the laundromat

Ghost

Prefers summer nights to summer days or evenings

Sits on the porch at night with you listening to the cicadas sing

And during this time you can’t take showers together bc he won’t let you adjust the temperature, he takes his showers ice cold

Don’t ask me where I get this from but he vibes with that one Type O Negative song bc according to him it gives “summer” (iykyk)

Prob has sun sensitivity

Cannot leave the house without his sunglasses

And he avoids driving when the sun’s too bright

Soap

Bastard who enjoys summer #1

He likes summer because it means going down to the beach and showing off his muscles that stay clothed under uniform throughout the year

Wants to buy swimming trunks that’ll match your swimwear

He likes joining teens in volleyball and flying kites with kids

Loves going on walks on the beach at dawn and dusk

He once gave you a bad scare when making you think the dolphin fin in the water was a shark

Even if you’re at home he’ll drag you out of bed to join his morning walk and evening walks after dinner

Gaz

He’s content with summer

Will come up with tons of things to do

Picnics he prepares every weekend

Cloud watching

Catching fireflies in a jar and setting them free all at once to see them glow

Running his fingers through your hair as the breeze blows

Making lemonade together to stay cool outside

Buys a vintage camera to take lots of pics of you

On every evening walk you take together he picks something small like a leaf or flower and saves it

At the end of the season he gets everything together and creates a page in his scrapbook

Alejandro

Bastard who enjoys summer #2

He likes the feel of summer breeze on his bare skin and you look forward to seeing that ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Likes to sleep with the windows open at night

Blasts music

Carne asadas

Frequents the local ice cream shops to buy mangonadas

Throughout the entire summer your kitchen has fruits of all kind that he eats with tajin

Will take you for a drive around in his truck and then find a quiet little spot like a lake or mountain to park and sit on the truck bed watching the sky

Phillip Graves

Sits outside with sunglasses on and beer in hand

Calls for you to come out and sit with him to watch the sunset

Cookouts

Anytime you complain of the heat you better hope he’s not around to yap your ear off about some anecdote from when he was a child

“It’s hot” “Ain’t that hot” he responds whilst his face is sunburned bc he refuses to wear sunscreen

Will only wear sunscreen if you are able to catch him before he goes outside and apply it for him

Keegan

It seems like summer evenings are the perfect time to do stuff

For some reason likes to do things shirtless in summer: yard/garden work, mowing the lawn, washing the car..

You set up a chair on the porch to watch him

Falling asleep on a soft patch of grass under the shade of a tree

Will start a bonfire and sit around it with you for hours into the late hours of the night

Sometimes you’ll stay out so late with him that both of you fall asleep

König

He’s not fond of summer

Would prefer to stay inside but if you want to he’ll go out as well

Sprawls on the floor with the fan on

He’ll drive where you want to go and then sit in the car watching you

Prob keeps ice packs in a cooler to keep cool when going outside for a long time

He’d rather be outside when the sun starts to set and the sky turns orange

Sets up a hammock

Afternoon naps on the hammock with the gentle sway of the wind

Horangi

He likes summer and prepares for it

Just imagine him getting out a little backpack with a sunhat, sunglasses, sunscreen, water bottle, umbrella, cooling sleeves, etc…

That’s not for him tho that’s for you he puts on sunglasses and is good to go

During summer he loves going to markets and buying fruit bc that’s when it’s best

Lots of strawberries, grapes and tangerines

Constantly reminds you to wear sun protection

He likes being outside a lot actually and will take you to his favorite parks and places to hike

Nikto

The change of seasons does not affect him much

He’ll notice the change of weather one day and mention how much warmer it is

“It’s summer” “Oh, we should go camping soon…”

He’ll take you camping whether you like it or not insisting that you will like it

Sets a tent near the river to catch fish

He also likes to plant vegetables during the nice weather and bring them to you, proudly showing off his hard work rewarded

He likes to cook meals together and eat outside

[bookshelf-dust]

soul made of honeybees

billy hargrove x fem!reader

gif by @biillys

word count: 6,418

warnings: brief swearing, mentions of smoking, reader deals with body insecurities/dysmorphia, uses exercise as a punishment, all of the struggles that come with trying to accept oneself

synopsis: on a journey of becoming more active and trying to be happier in yourself, you find billy, who helps you develop a healthier relationship with exercising and shows you that your body should be celebrated for all it does for you.

a/n: well, what do we have here? my creative juices have begun to flow again, and this is the first fic to be born of that particular affair. in my head i’ve set this in the late 80s, maybe early 90s, where i imagine billy still works at the pool during the summers when he’s home from college. this is a situation i’ve found myself in over the past year, and i wanted a chance to explore it in this way and sort through some of my own experiences. i hope you will enjoy it. as always, happy reading! <3

————

Jane Fonda is a fucking fantastic woman. But right now, you hate her. 

She manages to look stunning and effortless with each kick of her legs; while you are sweating profusely, your shorts are up your ass, and your fingers are swollen from overheating. 

You hate exercising in the moment, but once her thirty minute video is over and her group of people in tights and tiny shorts are gone, admittedly you do feel better. Rinsing the sweat from your face, feeling your muscles ache the next day—it brings you some sort of satisfaction. 

Your body likes that you’ve gotten more active. 

But your own hatred for your body was the reason you allowed Jane Fonda into your home to begin with. Sick, right? You know it’s bad, and yet each time you squat, crunch, and press, you can’t stop yourself from wishing you were shaped differently. From looking at the toned and athletic bodies in Miss Fonda’s videos and imagining what it would be like to feel that comfortable in your own skin, to be so graceful and…perfect.

So, you continue to push yourself, in hopes that you’ll become more appealing, that if you keep doing this, there will come a point where you aren’t totally and completely disgusted with the body you’ve been given. 

Because at this point, you’ve truly convinced yourself that you cannot be happy in your body. Even if you have noticed your strength levels increasing and really want to push yourself more. But you won’t let that positivity ring free like the woman on your television always wishes you would. 

“You did a great job!” Jane’s voice rings throughout your living room as the workout video ends, and you scramble for the remote, having had enough of these cheery attitudes for one morning.

You sit back on your hands, stretch out your legs, and try to steady your breath. Your knees have carpet burn, and you can feel sweat dripping down your temples. 

You may be a heaving mess, but you need more. The workouts have gotten easy, and you need something new. 

A woman runs by outside your window in a bright pink leotard and blue jogging shorts, matching pink leg warmers meeting her tennis shoes.

I could try that, you think. Maybe I’d like running. 

You certainly didn’t like it in school, but most of that was the result of shitty phys-ed teachers and the fact that you were never the athlete those instructors wanted you to be. 

You push off the floor and stalk to your room, digging for the sneakers you know are buried in the back of your closet. You have to try this. You need to keep pushing yourself. And if you don’t do it now, with this sudden spark of energy, you probably never will. 

Five minutes. You can run for five minutes. And if you feel like you can after that time is up, you’ll do ten. 

You squeeze your eyes shut as you’re tying your shoes, shoving away the thoughts telling you that you’ll definitely not look as cute as that woman on the street or any other woman that goes for a run, their ponytail swaying and their cheeks perfectly pinked. 

But what does it matter? You have to try. You have to be productive and make something out of yourself. You can’t deal with the pulsing, clawing thoughts of self-hatred anymore. Your body has to change.

The only problem is that you haven’t yet realized your mindset must too.

The heat that swallows you up when you step out of your front door is almost enough to send you right back inside. But how disappointed will you be in yourself if you retreat that quickly? 

You let your body begin to walk before your brain can start to argue. Your street doesn’t really have a sidewalk, so you keep to one side as the cyclists and other joggers do, ensuring you won’t be in anyone’s way. Subconsciously, you’re already making yourself smaller even though there’s no one outside to judge you. 

You look down at your watch, noting the time, and start to run. Not as though you’re being chased by a serial killer—or a man—but enough that it counts as a run. Those first few seconds are blissful. You feel like a little kid as the adrenaline spreads through your veins. Like your mom has just called you in because dinner is ready, like you're racing against the sunset so that your feet land inside the door just before the streetlights flick on. 

You forgot what it was like to move your body in this way. To feel this momentary freedom. You make it about three minutes before your side starts to hurt, a telltale sign that you haven’t done this in far too long. The heat is starting to get to you too, but you said you’d go for five, and that’s what you’re doing. 

It’s pitiful, the way you press yourself to the inside of your front door, trying to catch your breath from that little bit of work. Why did it hurt so much more than everything Jane Fonda tells you to do? 

Maybe you’re not meant to be the athletic type. Or maybe I need to eat something, you think. I need to make a plan for myself. That could make it easier. 

You can’t eat with your shirt sticking to your back though, so you strip and turn the shower on, practically jumping under the cool stream of water. But not before you glance at your body in the full-length mirror hanging on the wall. Your hands find your stomach, eye each stretch mark and bit of cellulite. Each extra-soft spot of skin, every part of you that doesn’t conform to the vision you have in your head. 

You wish that five minute run had fixed everything. That you could magically look like an aerobics instructor and be happy in your own skin. Your eyes fill with tears, and you think for a minute that it could be better to just stop before you get ahead of yourself. What’s the point? You don’t know if you have it in you to wait and see results. And you know you won’t turn into someone else, won’t form a new shape…and then you’re spiraling. You can’t think of a single reason why exercising is worth it.

Because it can be fun. Because it pushes you and makes you stronger. You shove this tiny voice away and let your gaze flick back to the shower, where you’ve completely abandoned your cold sanctuary. You hop in and start scrubbing your hair, trying to think of anything that isn’t your body in that mirror, anything other than how much you looked like a fraud trying to fit in with everyone else. 

————

You continue on this way for a while longer: running in the mornings, doing as many of the Jane Fonda videos as you have access to at work, drinking more water, blah blah blah. One of the perks of working at the library is that you can check out as many tapes as you want. But you’ve done all of Jane’s workouts, and you need more. 

You could swim, but when is the community pool ever not full to the brim during the summer? You could try jazzercise. No. That’s just not for you. You could…go to the gym. 

The pool also has small gyms for both women and men, and you know the men’s one is usually very busy, but most of the women in Hawkins take part in other forms of exercise. And if you went in the mornings…you might have the place to yourself. You might could try and tone up. 

God, this sounds so stupid. 

And your heart rate picks up just thinking about doing this very new and very big and very embarrassing thing, but you want to do it. You’re going to try. 

Hopefully you’ll just go unnoticed. This is a totally normal thing for people to do, right? 

The community pool opens at ten during the week, but the doors to the gyms open at seven. And that’s what time you get there, out of pure fear that you’ll have to interact with another human and make a fool of yourself. But the universe must be looking out for you on this particular morning, because the door is unlocked, and you slip in without any hassle. 

Billy isn’t a morning person. He never has been, but an excuse to get out of his hellhole of a house before anyone else is up to fuck with him? Yeah, he jumped at that opportunity. 

Usually the manager opens the gyms and stays to open the pool during the summer, but he volunteered. Especially because he can usually get in a workout before his shift technically even starts. 

He’ll bench as much as he can without a spot, work on the pull ups he never tells anyone he struggles with. It just feels good to be able to use his muscles and push himself. Billy is proud of what his body can do, what it does for him, how it protects him—and he’s not ashamed to admit that.

His body is one of the only things he has control over, and he’s heard his share of people talking about how vain he is, how he shouldn’t spend so much time doing this or that. But he doesn’t give a fuck. He’s built a body he’s proud of and feels comfortable in, and truthfully he feels like everyone should be comfortable in their body without anyone else pushing them to look another way. 

Billy is leaning against his car, hands tangled in his hair in an effort to tie it up, a cigarette dangling loosely from his full lips when he sees you for the first time. 

He watches you get in your car, bag slung over your shoulder, interested only because he never sees another soul here this early. 

You’re pretty, he thinks. Your hairline shines in the morning sunlight, damp with sweat, your neck the same. Your sports bra peeks through your pale shirt, and one of your slouchy socks is hiked up higher than the other. You’ve clearly just finished working out, but he thinks you look breathtaking. 

There’s something about you. Something light and sweet that he can feel even from this distance, like something is telling him you have a good soul. 

The next time Billy sees you, you come out of the door looking frustrated—he assumes at yourself. He doesn’t want to bother you, but he would like to talk to you at some point. 

You turn around when you go to unlock your car door and lock eyes with him. Your heart stutters at the fact that someone has caught you, probably knows you were exercising. But he is gorgeous. You give him a small smile, and climb into the driver's seat. All you can think on the drive home is that it must be nice to be so effortlessly gorgeous. 

————

You continue on this way for weeks. Close to a month. You workout, you wave and acknowledge one another. This other person who you share this tiny thing with and who you are not judged by. 

On this particular day, you decide to be brave though. You packed a swimsuit, and you’re going to speak to that gorgeous boy and hope he doesn’t get freaked out by you. 

You place your weights back on the rack, the muscles in your thighs pulsing, your arms feeling like jelly. You’ve only worked your way up to the set of fifteens, but that’s something, right? 

You’re sweating, and dread walking outside into the swath of steadily climbing heat and humidity. Your heart pounds at the prospect of speaking to him. 

With your bag over your shoulder, you push open the door and step outside, jumping almost immediately. “Shit!” 

Billy laughs at your reaction, both because he hadn’t expected to frighten you, and because your jolt was pretty entertaining to witness. 

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, “I didn’t mean to make you lose your shit, it’s just too hot to stand anywhere without shade.”

You lean against the cool metal door behind you. “Fuck,” you sigh. “My survival skills are clearly not what they should be.”

Billy laughs into his drink, taking a swig from the Coke he bought at the vending machine. 

“You headed out?” he asks, subconsciously fussing with a belt loop. 

“Well, yeah, I was. But um, I was going to ask a favor from you, if that’s okay?” You must sound like a dumbass, speaking to this man for the very first time, only to ask him for something.

“Shoot,” Billy responds.

“Do you think it’d be okay for me to swim a few laps in the pool? I know it’s not open yet, and I haven’t even told you my name, but I promise not to be a bother or anything. I just kind of wanted a chance to swim when there was no one else around, you know?”

Billy finishes his drink and tosses the can in the recycling bin inches from your hip. It lands with a resounding ping. 

You start to think this was a very stupid idea, and that maybe you should’ve just kept yourself at home like always.

“You can totally say no—”

“Yeah, sure I don’t see why not—”

Your words clash together and the both of you start to laugh. You raise your hand, gesturing for him to continue his thought. 

“It’s fine by me if you swim a little. I doubt you’re gonna trash the place.” He grins at you, dimples forming in his cheeks. “I’m Billy, by the way.”

A heat rises up your neck and washes over the tips of your ears. You tell him your name and thank him for letting you bend the rules. 

“Ah, fuck the rules. It’s just a community pool,” he winks, opening up the gate for you and telling you to have at it. 

You’d put your one-piece on underneath your workout clothes this morning, and you try to ignore the prick of shame, even disgust, that you feel having put your body in it as you wade into the pool. 

The water is cool, and as it drenches you, you feel lighter, somehow. You swim out to the deep end and push off the wall with your toes, propelling yourself underwater and kicking for as long as you can go while holding your breath. 

The little girl that still lives within your soul leaps to the surface, giddy with each push off the wall, each stroke of your arms underneath the water. She is excited. Free. 

She isn’t thinking about what your stomach looks like in this swimsuit or how stupid you probably look with your sloppy swimming skills. 

You swim for maybe twenty minutes, or at least until your shoulders are aching. You kick over to the wall, hoisting yourself up just that little bit so you can prop your elbows up on the warming concrete. 

You feel so light here that it almost makes you forget why you came. 

You hear footsteps and Billy appears from around the corner, a fluffy white towel in hand. 

“You getting out? I figured I’d come and make sure you hadn’t drowned.” 

You giggle. The sound makes him smile, pearly white teeth on display. Your eyes are drawn to his, where the summer sun has multiplied his freckles so much that they blanket his nose and the tops of his cheeks, washing over his temples. 

“I appreciate you looking out for my safety,” you say, climbing up the short ladder. Billy holds out a hand to help you steady yourself as you stand. You’re hesitant to take it because you’re all wet, but your hand moves before your mind takes control. “Thank you.” You give him a shy smile.

He grins at you and hands you the towel. You wrap it around your shoulders and follow him back under the awning when he starts walking away. Billy leans up against the cold brick wall and you stand, a little nervously, in front of him, trying to think of what to say. 

“I’ll admit, uh, it’s been nice to see someone else here so early in the mornings.” Billy lets out a huff of a laugh. “I was gonna ask though, why’d you pick this shithole to workout in?”

You pull the damp towel tighter against your torso. “It’s a quiet shithole,” you say. “And this whole exercising thing is pretty new to me, you know? I didn’t want to be somewhere people could see me like that.”

You realize how self-deprecating that comment was, realize you’re being too upfront, and try to quickly cover your ass. “What about you?” you ask, daring to make eye contact just to make sure he’s not disturbed. 

“Well, it came with the job,” he laughs, “and I love working out. Always have. Plus, it might be a shitty place, but the older equipment is a lot better than what newer gyms are using. So it works for me.”

Huh. 

“Oh. Nice.” You chew on your thumbnail. What a fuckup you are. 

Billy tilts his head, trying to encourage your gaze to raise to his. “What just happened?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

You look at him, his sunglasses pushed up into his hair and arms crossed in front of his chest. “It’s nothing…I just don’t really know what to say to someone who enjoys the gym? Who has a positive relationship with it and everything.”

A crease forms between Billy’s brows. “You’ve been crazy consistent with it, but you don’t like it?” He asks you, but based on your body language and how you’ve acted the past month every time you head out, everything adds up and Billy knows the answer before it even leaves your mouth. 

You shake your head, ashamed that you even brought this up. “No,” you laugh nervously. “I hate it. I only started because I’m unhappy with myself? So it’s more of a punishment than something that brings me joy.”

Billy’s chest squeezes at your words. That is exactly why he started working out all those years ago. To make himself stronger because he was ashamed his father had power over him. Because he wasn’t good enough for anyone, so out of anger he made himself more powerful.

But he doesn’t want you to feel that way. You shouldn’t be working out purely to punish yourself for some absurd reason your mind has come up with. 

And even though Billy has had very minimal interactions with you, he likes you. He wouldn’t wish the horrible thoughts he’s had for himself on anyone else, but he gets the feeling you already know. 

“Well, I’m not gonna berate you or nothin.’ But uh, if you ever want help, or want to workout together so it’s not so miserable, let me know alright?”

You smirk at him, hoping to make the situation a bit less awkward. “Are you implying you’re the reason working out would become less miserable?”

Billy laughs, glad to see you’re not totally opposed to the idea of him offering help. “Yeah. But really, you shouldn’t have to hate it y’know? If I can help you figure out not to hate it…I’d like to try. And we could get to know each other better.”

Billy fidgets with the lighter in his pocket. He’s weaned off cigarettes, but he keeps loads of lighters around so he has something to occupy his hands with. If not, it’s usually not a good situation for him to be in. 

Your heart squeezes at the genuine quality in his words. You feel like you’re a lost cause at this point, but there’s a big part of you, the soft and squishy and easily flustered one, that wants to take him up on this offer. 

You nod, wrapping up your towel so you can drop it in the bin and go get changed. “Okay. I’ll think about it, Billy. Promise.”

————

“One more.”

“I can’t, Billy. I told you, I’m not strong enough for this shit.”

You swear when you’re frustrated. Billy has learned that over the past few weeks. 

He crouches, leveling with you. Your knee bounces, the dumbbells in your hands sitting on the tops of your thighs. “Yes, you can. You’re already up to twenty-fives for your presses. Try one more for me and then you can rest a minute.”

Your eyes well with tears that you quickly blink away as you settle back against the bench. This is the point in a workout where you just start to hate yourself. You think it’s pointless, you know you’re body hasn’t changed enough, you feel like total shit—everything just feels fucked.

You use your knees to help lift the dumbbells and slowly lift them to the appropriate height, making sure to protect your shoulders like Billy taught you. You inhale and raise them up. Your arms are shaking, especially your non-dominant one which is really fighting this shoulder press, and you’re not sure you’ll be able to lift them fully until you do. 

“Fuck, yeah!” Billy’s voice reaches your ears just as you’re lowering your arms, completely out of breath. You set the dumbbells on the floor. 

Billy is thrilled for you. He can see the progress you’re making, how much stronger you are and less hesitant to try new exercises.

When you look up at him the expression on your face tells him you are not thrilled. 

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s the matter?”

You stand and walk over to the mirror that covers one whole wall. You put your hands on your hips and bite the inside of your cheek. “Billy, will you look at me, honestly?” You gesture to your body. “This is the matter. I don’t look any different than the first day I showed up here, do I? Even if I’ve been busting my ass, I’ll just never—”

You stop, rubbing your hands down your face and over your bloodshot eyes. 

“You’ll never what?” Billy locks eyes with you in the mirror. 

You set a hand on your chest, nails digging into your skin. “My body will never be good enough for me. I’ll always look at every other person that walks by, jealous that they have the figure I want and I’ll never have. Why did I have to get stuck with this shit? Why couldn’t I be given a body that I’d be happy with. Life if fucking hard enough, why couldn’t I have this one thing?”

“And you’re just so effortlessly gorgeous, you know that? I wish it was that easy for me, too. It’s just like, why am I even doing this anymore when I know I’ll never look the way other women do? I’m bullshitting myself, aren’t I, Billy? Working out like it’s gonna do anything.”

You exhale and drag your arm across your nose, avoiding Billy’s gaze. 

“Hey. Look at me.” Billy’s tone is firm. “Listen for a second, will you?”

“You are getting stronger. You’re using heavier weights all around. Shit, you’re up to fifty for your deadlifts. Hold your arm up for me—yeah, and squeeze, yep. Look at that.” 

He taps his index and middle finger on your bicep, on the bit of muscle you’ve grown and shape you’ve built. “You are absolutely not bullshitting yourself, you hear me? If anything, you’re bullshitting yourself by thinking you can’t be happy in this body. You don’t have to look like other women. Who the fuck put that idea in your head? I don’t know if you see how I look at you, but I think you’re gorgeous, and I love to see you becoming more comfortable in the movements you do, in your own strength. Your body does so fuckin’ much for you.”

Billy is still keeping eye contact with you in the mirror. You can feel the warmth of him behind you, and you swear you sweat more because you know he’s right and you know you are getting stronger but fuck you just can’t believe that. You look at him and you just wish you were that lithe, that comfortable in your own skin. 

“I’m doing this with you—hey, take a deep breath, alright?” He clocks the way you’re shaking out your hands, trying to keep yourself from breaking. Crying. Screaming out of frustration. “I’m doing this with you because I used to be just like this, you hear me?” 

He hates being vulnerable, fucking despises it, but he knows that giving you this information, giving you this little pathway into his life just might save you right now. 

“I worked out all through junior high and high school because I fuckin’ hated myself, and I thought if I could get bigger, if I could make myself look intimidating, then maybe other people wouldn’t treat me like shit. That part worked in some places, but I didn’t like myself any more because I hadn’t sorted through any of my mental shit.”

He says your name. Slowly. You like the way it sounds when he says it, hating the way it sounds when it leaves your own lips. 

“I know we aren’t all that close yet, but I see so much fuckin’ potential in you. I’m not gonna let you suffer with all this shit alone. I know you hate your body, but this is the one you were given, and there’s no point spending so much time destroying yourself over that simple fact.”

You turn around to face him, your hands on the sides of your neck, rubbing as if that will stop the emotion from rising in your throat. It doesn’t work. Billy’s eyes move back and forth between yours, across your face, tracking every change in your expression. He recognizes what you’re doing, trying to suppress all of this. 

“C’mere.”

You go before your mind can fight back. Billy takes you in his arms, tucking your face into his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

You breathe unsteadily into his skin. You don’t care that he smells like sweat and you smell like sweat and that you’re shaking and tears are slipping from your eyes. His arms are strong, and the feeling of his biceps squeezing you closer, his hands running up and down your back, it makes it all feel like it’s okay. 

“It’s just so fucking hard, Billy,” you mumble, lifting your head up slightly. “It’s not fair. I just want to be pretty and normal and have a body I can accept like everyone else.”

Billy gently touches his index finger just below your chin, coaxing your gaze up to meet his. “I know it is. And I mean it when I say that you are pretty. Honestly, you gotta think about how many ‘pretty’ people there are out there, people who have the bodies the tabloids tell them to have—and are absolute dicks. Hell, that’s how I was in high school.”

Your eyes crinkle at the corners, signaling that he did get a little joy in you having admitted that, even if it’s not a full on smile. His thumb swipes down your cheek, mopping up the little track left by a tear. 

“Point is, this, what I’m holding right now, is your body. No one else would know it like you do, know how to take care of it, know where each mark has come from or each thing you’ve put it through. Each thing it’s gotten you through. You can accept it, because I’m going to help you get to a point where you can look in the mirror and not shit-talk yourself.”

You pull back a little, pressing the palms of your hands to your face, your elbows slightly poking the top of Billy’s rib cage. “I’m just so scared.”

“I got you, you hear me?” He pulls your shirt away from your collarbones just so it’s not sticking to your skin so much. “You don’t need to be scared. Not with me.”

You nod. And you keep doing that until it feels a little more believable. 

————

Billy can’t stop looking at you. 

And he really needs to focus before he runs off the sidewalk and into the road. 

But for the first time in the few months he’s known you, you look free. You look happy. You look all of these things and you’re running. There’s a baseball cap perched backwards on your head, one of his from forever ago that he lent (gave) you when you mentioned you didn’t have any. 

He can smell the sunscreen you’ve slathered all over yourself, see the sweat dripping down your spine. This is the first time you’ve felt brave enough to go out in just a sports bra and a cropped sweatshirt, bright colored biker shorts covering the tops of your thighs. Your frilly socks make it too, just because it shows how much more comfortable you’ve gotten with doing this. 

It turns out you never hated running. You just needed to do it in a different atmosphere, with different thoughts running through your head. And having a good running partner helps, too. 

“There’s a bench up here if you want to rest a second before we finish,” Billy says through a rather aggressive exhale. You’re glad the sun is setting, because that makes it so much cooler than when you try to run in the morning with the sun beating down on you and seeping into your veins.

You sit down, taking a long drink from your water. Billy crouches on the sidewalk, shaking out his hair and retying the mess of a bun he was wearing. 

“You’re doing so good today,” he tells you, winking at you from his place just a few inches to your left. 

You grin into your water bottle. “How long was that?” you ask. 

He rises and sits down next to you, his arm slung behind your back on the bench. His thumb brushes the shell of your ear, rubs over the little hoop you’re wearing. You watch as he does a little math in his head, checking out where exactly you are. “Little over two miles, bee.” 

Bee. Your heart skips every time he says that. It’s a very new thing, but it sort of slipped out one day, and you’ve loved it ever since. 

“What movie you wanna see this weekend, honeybee? My treat.”

When you’d asked why he chose that name for you, he’d teased at first, telling you it was just because you’re so damn sweet. But really it was a little more sappy than that. 

“Well, you are sweet. And bubbly when you want to be. But think about how much shit those little fuckers get done. How persistent and focused. They’re all cute and fuzzy n’ whatever, but they’re like, badass lil’ things, y’know?” 

Your knee bounces excitedly on the pavement. “Really?” That’s the farthest you’ve run so far. And you didn’t even hate it. You had…fun.

Billy laughs, throwing his head back a little and bearing his neck to you. It shines with sweat and it almost looks like he’s glowing. “Fuck yeah. You’ve been kicking my ass this week. I hate running.”

“But you do it with me,” you say.

“But I do it with you.”

You reach over your shoulder and squeeze his hand. “I like running better when it’s with you. Just for the record.” He squeezes back, lifting your hand up gently to press his lips to it. 

“I’m proud of you, you know that?”

A crease forms between your brows as you meet his gaze. “What for?”

“For not giving up.” You start to argue with him, but he continues before you can belittle yourself even the slightest bit. “You’ve kept at this, at trying to get yourself stronger and to try and feel more comfortable in what your body can do. I know you probably still wish you looked like some fuckin’ model or some shit, but I can see how much you’ve eased up, you know?” 

You nod, giving him a small smile. “I do still wish that sometimes. It would be easier. But I’m getting better, I think. I hate to tell you you’re right—,” he shoots you that cocky, prideful grin, “but my body does do a lot for me. I’m starting to accept that it can do a lot for me…” 

You trail off, tapping the toes of your sneakers on the concrete below you. “And I did squat with the bar and those little plates yesterday without a spot.” 

The spot in question was watching you carefully from a few feet away, ready to sprint if you needed help. 

“Yes, you did, bee. You’re kicking ass.” That dimple forms in his cheek, and you know he’s about to say something smart. “Speaking of ass—”

You stand abruptly, turning around quickly so that the area he’s speaking of isn’t directly in his face. You’ve learned he has a staring problem, specifically with that part of you. Not that you mind. Maybe that’s where your pride comes in.

————

The sun has slipped beneath the horizon by the time Billy slips his key into the gate, pulling it securely shut behind him. The first spattering of stars are trying to show in the purple-blue sky. 

The pool is calm, empty, and lit only by the pale bulbs built into it and the two light poles on either side of the patio. 

It was Billy’s idea to sneak in for a late night swim. He thought it would be fun, and he knows you hate swimming in an overcrowded pool. But truthfully, he just wanted to give you another space where you could feel completely without judgment and just exist. 

“What’s the plan here, Billy? I didn’t even think about taking a detour to get a swimsuit.” 

It’s true, you’ve felt so carefree around him that you weren’t overthinking, overanalyzing a scenario like this. You weren’t worried about running inside and finding the most full coverage bathing suit you have because you’re afraid of Billy seeing your body. But right now…you just feel calm. Your body isn’t perfect, but it’s okay if he at least sees your legs. 

Billy is already slipping off his shoes and taking off his shirt. “That’s because the point of this is being spontaneous, bee.” He walks to the far end of the pool and dives in, just in his little running shorts, before you can even blink. 

You’re nervous, just that little bit because this is so different from something you’d usually do, and now you’re just stripping? You’re just living and having a good time? Who the fuck are you?

You step out of your own shorts and pull off your socks. You’re left in your underwear and your little cropped sweatshirt. You register, as you walk down the stairs, that your underwear are blue, and you look just like Lisa from Weird Science. It makes you smile. 

You track Billy’s movements once you're up to your waist and realize he’s heading for you. He squeezes your ankle beneath the water before coming to the surface, a wide grin on his face. His necklace is stuck around his back and on instinct you reach out to straighten it. 

His eyes drag up and down your figure. “Hi, gorgeous.” The low drawl of his voice makes the tips of your ears burn. 

You wade a little deeper into the water, circling behind him. When you’re drenched up to your chest, you splash him. Billy cackles. It is possibly the most joyous sound you’ve ever heard. 

He dives for your waist, hooking an arm around you and swimming off, making you howl with laughter before you have to hold your own breath when he pulls you out deeper than you are tall.

He hoists you up out of the water and gently tosses you to the side, letting you fall into the water on your back. The adrenaline coursing through your veins is magical. 

You keep playing with him, playing, like you’re both kids who’ve never been in a pool before, until you’ve run through most of your energy. You try and teach him a game you played as a child, where one person spreads their legs and your goal is to swim between them without touching their skin, even as they move their legs closer together each time. 

It’s silly, because you inevitably know you’ll touch your opponents legs, but it’s fun. You don’t think about anything else when you do it. He teases you though, trapping you with his calves most times so you automatically lose. 

Now though, you and Billy stand nose to nose, at a depth where you’re not up to your chin so that you can actually speak to him. “This was a really good idea,” you tell him. You push some of his wet hair out of his face and then, rather than pulling away, you set your hands on his shoulders. 

He wraps his arms around your waist. “This okay?” he asks, lowering one arm so he can show you he wants to lift you up. You give him a sweet yes. 

Billy’s hand grips your thigh, coaxing you upward so you can get your legs around his back. You adjust your arms behind his head, him respectfully keeping his hands on the backs of your thighs. He steps back just that little bit more so he can submerge himself further in the water now that you’re held up. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile for this long before,” Billy says. His blue eyes flick back and forth between your own. 

“You’ve given me a lot more reasons to.” Your hand cups his cheek and he swears he could fucking collapse. You’re so gentle with him and Billy never knew he even wanted that. But now he craves it. Craves you. 

That cocky smirk you’ve started to recognize before it even begins makes an appearance. “Yeah? Can I give you one more reason to?”

You hum in agreement, and then Billy is pressing his lips to yours. They’re damp and he tastes a little like chlorine, but…he was right. You smile brilliantly into the kiss, and you’re not sure you stop the rest of the night either. 

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[chikaras-garden]

Aftercare

Sometimes, when smut gets intense, we need a reminder that we’re still safe and loved. Read this if you need a safe space after heavy smut with your F/O.

Pairing: your fave x fem!reader

Words: 1.1k

Contains: unnamed male!F/O, implied sub!reader, mentions of overstim and rough sex, aftercare, cuddles, sweet nothings, praise, doting, mushy relationship stuff, F/O calls R “sweetheart,” “honey,” “baby girl,” and “good girl,” your F/O is called “partner” so you can decide if it’s husband/boyfriend/etc.

Notes: 18+ or you’ll be blocked. Feel free to tell me who you imagine while you’re reading ❤️

You’re sticky, hot with sweat, and your lungs struggle to fill with air. Your eyes squeeze shut as you wriggle against the bedsheets, trying to find comfort through the thick of your own overstimulated arousal. Though your body feels numb, you’re aware of a dull ache in the back of your mind, but you can’t tell if it’s mental, physical, or both. All you know is that you just spent what felt like hours at his mercy, and that turned you into a weeping mess with a throbbing core and limbs too heavy to move.

There’s a soft sound that echoes around the room, circling you; it’s a shush, a hum, a coo that sounds an awful lot like your name said in your favorite person’s voice. You sense him before you really feel him; it takes your brain a few seconds to realize that he’s leaning over you, hands caressing up and down your sides, and speaking to you in a soft voice, using words you can’t understand.

He takes your hands with the gentlest of fingers, nuzzles each of your palms, and presses a tender kiss to each wrist. The feeling lingers like a slow-moving cloud on a summer’s day, and the tightness in your chest loosens at the sensation. You take deep breaths in—one, two, three—and fill your lungs with warm, light air.

When you open your eyes, he’s smiling at you. “Hi, sweetheart. Feelin’ okay?”

“Mn,” you half-moan, half-grunt. Though your bones ache and your skin is sore, you gather all of your remaining strength to reach for his shoulders, to hoist yourself up to latch onto him and never let go. All you can think about is how you need him, the touch of his skin, the whisper of his praise. But, he sways out of your grasp.

“Uh-uh,” he tuts, grinning. “Water first.”

Biting your lip to hold back your pout, you think of phrases spoken in his domineering timbre: ‘be good for me,’ ‘tell me—tell me what you want,’ ‘good girls do as they’re told.’

Looking away, you mumble. “I need you.”

He cups your face with one hand, tilting your chin so he can see you. You can’t—don’t want to—resist, so you feel the weight of his eyes locked on yours while he reaches behind him, toward the bedside table. “You’ve got me, honey; I’m not going anywhere. ‘M right here. We’re all done. You’re safe.”

The cool glass of your water bottle meets your palms. It’s uncapped already, and you feel his hand resting on the small of your back. His fingers work into each muscle, and you only now realize how tense your posture is. 

“Need my help?” His doting eyes watching you with a worry that’s so ‘him,’ your heart flutters back to life. You shake your head, and he acquiesces; instead, he occupies himself with pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses to your bare shoulders.

It takes a moment for you to raise the bottle and drink. You close your eyes while a slow stream of water flows down your throat. Like the leaves of a dormant plant, you unfurl as water reaches through you. Life returns to your arms, your legs, your fingers, your toes. Even in your mind, the fog of your just-finished session begins to part, and the afterglow of your partner’s love for you is what shines through.

You take another deep breath while you lower the water bottle to your lap. Weighing the half-full container between your hands, you notice the tremble in your lip and a persistent ache in your wrists and shoulders, a chill in your bones that just now registers.

There’s a blanket waiting for you, warm from his body and smelling like his shampoo. Strong arms reach behind you, wrapping it around your shoulders like a cape. He joins its ends under your chin, smooths his fingers over the marks a different version of himself left behind on your neck.

Compared to you, he has a significant lack of coverage. Bare-chested and wearing only a pair of quickly-donned boxers, you realize he must be cold, too. “You—”

He cuts you off with an over-pronounced smooch to your cheek. “Don’t worry about me for now, ‘kay? I wanna get you cozy first.”

You give him an uncertain look, to which he just chuckles. It’s a quiet noise, like the purr of a cat; then, he leans close, resting his forehead lightly against yours. “Taking care of you makes me feel better.”

“Love you,” you murmur in response.

A sound that lives at the intersection of a shuddering breath and a delighted laugh leaves his mouth while he wraps his arms around your waist. He leans, shifting onto his hip, and tugs you effortlessly into his lap. “You did so good for me, honey. You’re the best girl, my perfect sweetheart, doing everything I asked and more. Where’d I find someone like you?”

You muster the energy for a dreamy half-smile. “I found you, remember?”

His next words flow out of his mouth without hesitation, as if he isn’t in control of them at all. “You saved me, baby girl.”

“From yourself?” You grin. “I think I’ve heard this one.”

Then, you wind your blanket-wrapped arms around his chest and nuzzle into his shoulder. It’s his turn to let out a dreamy sigh; leaning back against the headboard, he plucks your water bottle from you and takes a sip, beginning the ritual of taking care of himself, now that he’s certain you’re safe, drifting peacefully through the warmth of your bond.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers. “Such a beautiful, perfect thing.”

“‘M yours,” you counter amidst peppering baby kisses along his jaw. 

He swallows under your lips, and his hand finds your hip to squeeze. “No, sweetheart; you’re your own. You’re just sharing yourself with me, trusting me, and I…” He gives you a serious look. “Thank you, for that.”

So gently that you barely feel him, he taps the underside of your chin, guiding you upward to kiss him. His mouth is open, but not wanting; with how slowly his lips move, it’s almost like he’s baring his belly to you, showing you where he’s most vulnerable as his way of reciprocating what you just did for him.

“Love you,” you repeat in a whisper.

“Love you,” comes his echo.

Somewhere outside of this room, in a bathroom that’s just a few steps and too far away all at once, there’s a scented bath and silky lotion waiting for you—both of you. But that’s just the thing; it’s waiting, and it can wait a little longer, because all you need for now is to remain here, at peace and entangled with the man who loves you like no one else can.

[reidmaniac]

dancing in the refrigerator light. | spencer reid x fem!reader.

warnings: none really just fluff. established relationship, i think there’s like a pet name or two. honestly just idiots in love.

surprise! i’m still alive, i didn’t just fall off the face of the earth. i’ve just been so stressed and out of it lately, but here’s a short little story for you guys. love you, enjoy you!

---

it was late—one of those lazy summer nights that seemed to stretch on forever. the kind of night where the crickets sang softly, and the world outside was quiet. spencer reid was sprawled on the couch, his nose buried in an old leather-bound book. the air was warm and comforting, a gentle reminder of the peace that could be found in the small moments.

you, were in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge, looking for something sweet to snack on. the soft hum of the refrigerator filled the silence. as you found a slice of leftover pie, you couldn't help but notice the light casting a soft glow across the kitchen floor.

“hey, spence,” you called out, leaning against the fridge door, the light spilling out behind you.

spencer looked up from his book, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “yeah?”

“do you want some pie? i found a slice of blueberry pie in here,” you said, holding up the plate as if it were a prize.

he set the book aside and stretched, his long limbs unfolding like a cat. “sure, i could go for some pie.”

as he made his way into the kitchen, you grabbed a couple of forks and placed them on the counter. spencer stopped beside you, his eyes soft and warm under the dim light. he reached for the pie, but his attention was suddenly drawn to the music playing softly from the radio on the kitchen shelf. an old song, one that you both loved, was playing—a slow, gentle tune that made you want to sway.

“do you remember this song?” spencer asked, his voice a gentle murmur.

“of course i do,” you replied with a smile. “how could i forget?”

there was a moment of silence before he spoke again, his voice a little more confident this time. “dance with me?”

you were taken aback for a moment, not because he asked, but because he asked so sweetly, with a hint of vulnerability in his voice. you nodded, placing the pie on the counter and stepping closer to him.

“i’d love to.”

spencer took your hand in his, his touch gentle but sure. the refrigerator door was still open, casting that soft, warm light across the floor. he placed a hand on your waist, and you rested your free hand on his shoulder. slowly, you both began to sway to the music, your movements syncing naturally, like you had done this a thousand times before.

“you know, i’m not much of a dancer,” he admitted with a soft chuckle.

“you’re doing just fine, genius,” you replied, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

as you danced in the dim light, everything else seemed to fade away—the world outside, the late hour, even the pie sitting forgotten on the counter. it was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, moving to the gentle rhythm of the music.

spencer looked down at you, his eyes soft and filled with something unspoken. “i could get used to this,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

“what, dancing in the refrigerator light?” you teased.

he nodded, his smile growing. “yeah, exactly that, sweetheart.”

you laughed softly, resting your head against his chest as you continued to dance. the warmth of the refrigerator light and the softness of his touch made you feel as though you were in a world of your own, where time didn’t matter and the only thing that existed was this moment.

“you know, this is kind of perfect,” you said, pulling back slightly to look up at him.

“yeah?” he asked, his eyes meeting yours, filled with curiosity and something that felt like hope.

“yeah. it’s not every day you get to dance in the kitchen with dr. spencer reid,” you replied with a playful grin.

he chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “well, it’s not every day i get to dance with the most amazing woman i know.”

the compliment made your heart flutter, and you knew that this moment was one you would cherish forever. as the song played on, you and spencer continued to dance, the soft glow of the refrigerator light casting your shadows across the floor. it was a simple, beautiful moment—one that seemed to capture everything that mattered between you two.

eventually, the song came to an end, and you both slowed to a stop, still wrapped in each other’s arms. you didn’t let go right away, savoring the closeness and the warmth.

“thank you for the dance, my love,” spencer said softly, his eyes twinkling with gratitude.

“anytime, spence,” you replied, your voice equally soft.

he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “i think we need to make this a regular thing,” he murmured.

“dancing in the kitchen at midnight?” you asked, tilting your head back to meet his gaze.

“exactly. it’s kind of our thing now,” he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“i’d like that,” you said, feeling the warmth of his words settle in your heart.

you stepped back slightly, reaching for the pie once more. the night stretched on, filled with the promise of more dances, more laughter, and more moments like this—just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, dancing in the gentle glow of the refrigerator light.

[hotluncheddie]

Safe With You.

Ao3 | wc: 4.8k | Rated: E | tags: Daddy kink, under-negotiated kink, hurt/comfort, crying, sub Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a sweetheart, masturbation

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

The credits are rolling, names passing on the screen of Eddie’s little tv, movie over. 

Steve squeezes Eddie’s fingers where they’re tangled with both of his own. His head had migrated to Eddie’s shoulder around 20 minutes in, all tension seeping from him with one of Eddie’s thighs slung over his own and Eddie’s arm around his waist.

He’d missed nights like this, with someone, in easy closeness, being someone’s boyfriend. Something inside Steve always yearned for it, to be allowed this, something like it. Soft and domestic. 

(He’s been blessed with his platonic closeness with Robin. But she’s less tactile than Eddie, they hold hands and hug but the full body blanket of contact isn’t something she can stomach for long.)

It feels extra special tonight, somehow, after the day they’d had, because the Corroded Coffin boys were over to hang out and talk shop for their characters. Steve had come over around three, after his shift and part way through a heated discussion about trolls. He busied himself with decompressing, puttering around and reading Eddie’s comics on the sofa - leaving them to it. But every once in a while Eddie would call out for him to pick a number between one and ten. Or would scamper over with a box that had a dice in it, asking Steve to roll, kissing him on the head once he had. Steve felt so special; to be allowed to exist in that space, have Eddie want him there, including him as much as Steve was comfortable. It was so nice. 

And then Steve was allowed to stay, the other boys leaving with waves and see you soon’s and it wasn’t even mentioned that Steve would go too. Instead Eddie came and draped himself over him, snuggling into his neck and talking about what they should make for dinner. Those moments seemed to cause another piece of Steve’s burned red insides to scab, peel, and revel itself fresh pink  - on its way to healed. 

After Nancy something had curdled within him. Followed by the long hot summer where the main sense memory he retained on his skin was that of hard knuckles and big stinging palms. Then followed were those long months full of girls, here and there, who would touch his hand or his dick; and it was nice, until the post orgasm haze melted and it was time for one of them to leave. Steve left alone again. His body aching for something else. Something different. 

Now Steve feels syrupy and loose, fuzzy around the edges: a Polaroid that got wet with the lake water it captured. He fiddles with the rings on Eddie’s fingers. Eddie’s other hand having migrated up to his hair, scratching lightly behind his ear. 

‘Want to stay over?’ Eddie asks quietly. 

Steve did. He really really did. 

‘If that’s okay?’ 

‘C’mon.’ Eddie stands, motions for Steve to follow along, grabbing his hand again and holding it behind him as he leads them down the little hall to his room. 

Eddie puts on a record and some old smoky blues song filters through the room. He makes his way back over, swaying his hips, humming softly, taking Steve by the waist and turning them in a slow sort of waltz. 

Steve thinks, for not the first time and definitely not the last, that Eddie, his boyfriend, is so so beautiful. Free and handsome and earth-shatteringly charming. 

Eddie’s hands slip up Steve’s sides, finger trailing over his scarred waist, taking Steve’s T-shirt with them, pulling it up and off over his head, dropping it to the floor at their bare feet. 

‘What’s this?’ Steve asks, smiling, eyes half lidded. Eddie’s lips work their way soft and slow down the muscle of his neck, still humming softly along with the song. Steve’s own hands flutter from Eddie’s shoulders to draping around his neck. 

‘Nothin, s’late, we should get some sleep.’ Eddie says low and lazy. His soft lips make their way back up to Steve’s cheek. All the times in the world they seemed to say. 

Eddie, to Steve, had taken to being someone’s boyfriend even more than he ever would’ve expected. Hopelessly romantic and achingly attentive; it regularly fills Steve’s chest close to bursting. These few months of being with Eddie have been so fun and Steve laughs more than he can remember. It all just feels different with Eddie, he feels different. That things aren’t quite so hard, that it doesn’t all have to be so scary.

‘Sleep huh?’ Steve asks, lips on Eddie’s skin, on his salty temple. His own fingertips grazing shoulder blaze, grazing scar, grazing bone and skin. 

Eddie’s eyes are dark chocolate, his mouth set in a half grin that never seems to leave. Never seems to leave when he’s looking at Steve. ‘Yup, just helpin’ you get ready.’ Eddie says, pinky finger ghosting along the waistband of Steve’s jeans. 

Steve dips his chin forward, attaching his mouth to Eddie’s, lips already parted and tongue already searching. Eddie’s hand comes up into his hair, the other slipping into the back pocket of his jeans, squeezing, gripping. 

They kiss and they kiss and the blues plays on, the air-con rattling and a stray cat meows in the distance. 

‘Tell me something.’ Eddie says between kisses, quiet and deep and Steve feels like there’s whisky in his belly, thrumming through his veins. Drunk on Eddie Munson. ‘Tell me what you like, show me. Let me help baby.’ His hooded eyes pull Steve in, fingers stroking hairs away from his forehead and lips pressing kisses to his cheekbones. 

Steve doesn’t know how to answer, how to ask for something he wants. ‘No, I. Te-tell me what you like.’ He says, pulling Eddie’s shirt up and off, giving himself a moment away from eye contact, away from the vulnerability Eddie draws out of him. 

Eddie lets his T-shirt be tossed away, pulling Steve close and swaying them again gently. Slowing the moment once more. ‘Mmm, I like lots of things. Like making pretty boys feel good, for one.’ He ponders, hand soothing up and down Steve’s back. ‘And you, honey, are the prettiest guy I’ve ever seen.’ He smiles, teeth glinting in the soft lamplight. 

Steve ducks his head as his cheeks flush, smiling, hiding in Eddie’s shoulder. 

‘Let me make you feel good, hm? Tell me something you like, something you enjoy, or always wanted to try.’ Eddie asks quiet and slow into Steves hair, hugging their bodies close. 

The first thought to Steve’s head makes him swallow. The first thought to Steve’s head makes him burn. 

‘It’s embarrassing.’ He whispers, face hot and he has the sudden urge to cry. To kick and scream and stomp his foot. To curl up in a ball and not say anything more. 

It’s a word he’s thought about, for a while, secretly. He would think about it with girls - the few who took a little more charge, who threaded their hands in his hair and pulled. Thought about it after he realised boys could be his, could be something he finally let himself feel. Thought about it alone in the shower, moaning quietly, fingers in his mouth, water trailing across his skin. Thought about it and flushed, belly churning, aching. He thought about it once, came, cried, weeped into his pillow for everything it could mean. Everything he wanted along with the word, tantalising and terrifying and wrapped up in ugly puss-filled parts of his past. Who he is, how he grew up. A tangled mess that’s he’s too scared to try and tease apart. 

Eddie guides his face back out, cradling Steve’s cheeks in his palms. ‘Want to look after you, that’s all I’ve ever wanted Stevie. Baby, it’s all I want to do.’ He says, earnest, kissing Steve softly on the mouth.  

‘You, I don’t. Ho-how can you be so?’ He mumbles wetly, losing it, floating away under Eddie’s lips. 

‘Like you so much Stevie, Sweetheart. Always mean it. Tell me what you want baby. What do you need?’ 

Steve bites his lip, feels emotions choking in the back of his throat, solidifying into something that’s maybe not so bitter, maybe not so bad. If the trust unfurling in his heart at the soft press of Eddie’s fingertips could tell him anything, it’s that maybe Eddie can handle it - him - the mix of things that are begging to spill. The word, that means so much somehow. 

‘Eddie.’ Steve whispers, as lips return to his neck. Ringed fingers undo his jeans and they slip down his hips to pool at his feet. ‘Eddie.’ He whimpers, shivering, as Eddie reaches the juncture of his neck and shoulder, biting and sucking and leaving a sweet bruise of promise marked onto Steve’s skin. 

‘Tell me baby.’ Eddie’s thumb presses into Steve’s hipbone, the other hand held firm to the back of his neck, keeping them close. 

‘Eddie, Eddie.’ Another bite, their bodies sharing heat and tears sting the corners of Steve’s eyes. His blood feels molten, he feels sticky and heavy and flush. Eddie’s hands on his neck and shoulders and waist, their legs tangling, toes brushing toes, Eddie’s belt buckle pressing and catching in Steve’s happy trail. Another bite, another caress, his Eddie all over him, holding him, loving him. 

‘Daddy.’ Steve sobs, whines, the damn breaking. All his fears spilling out, fizzing bubbles in the air. 

‘Oh.’ Eddie groans, growls, squeezing Steve in his arms. ‘Oh you don’t even know do you? How precious you are for me.’ And he’s kissing Steve again, savouring and devout. Moaning into Steve’s lips, drinking the word, eating the confession. Taking and swallowing that little part of Steve’s own soul. 

Eddie holds his hips, grinding, seeking Steve out in his boxers, denim rough and Eddie’s length is so hard against his own. ‘Please.’ Steve moans. 

Eddie releases his lips, bringing Steve’s hands up to kiss his palms, nipping his fingertips. His hands wrap around Steve’s wrists forming a solid circle, dwarfing them in his palms, thumb smoothing over pulse point. Something about it makes Steve feel claimed and sticky. Eddie’s hands big enough to trap him like that, hold him. Something in Steve never wants him to let go. 

Eddie steps them backwards until knees hit the bed, pulling at Steve’s wrists so he gets the hint and lays down. Eddie falling with him, crowning him against the mattress, wrists pinned either side of his head. Kissing Steve again and again, licking onto his mouth.

Steve arches into the touch, hungry and seeking friction on his aching cock. But Eddie’s thigh between his leg stays maddeningly out of reach. Steve’s groans turn into whimpers as Eddie bites his lower lip and pulls. 

He’s panting by the time Eddie starts kissing over his cheek and down his neck, hands releasing to instead grope at his hairy pecs and Eddie keeps kissing until he can suck a nipple into his mouth. Steve arching again, whining weakly as he buries his hands in Eddie’s curls. 

Eddie’s fingers follow the curve of his waist down to the waistband of his boxers. Pulling his mouth away from the now red, sensitive bud. His eyes bright and sparkling as he looks up and Eddie presses a kiss to Steve’s belly button before sitting up onto his knees. pulling at Steve’s boxers and lifting his legs up along with them. The boxers thrown onto the floor with their shirts, and Steve’s ankles stay resting on Eddie’s shoulders. 

‘Feel good baby?’ Eddie asks, kissing the soft skin of the ankle bone by his face. Steve nods, he feels blotchy and flushed but so so happy. Can’t help smiling up at Eddie. ‘Gonna be good for me?’ 

Steve reaches out for him, Eddie tangling their fingers and squeezing. ‘Who you gonna be good for?’ He asks, cheeky and lovely and light. 

‘You.’ Steve manages, wriggling a little, bringing his free hand up to his mouth. 

‘Who am I?’ Eddie grips the meat of Steve’s thigh, shuffling closer, bending Steve in half. 

Steve looks up at him, Eddie’s face looming over his own, his sweet lovely Eddie. ‘Daddy.’ He whispers, own fingertips tracing his lips, ears hot and cock so hard it’s leaking onto his belly. 

‘Good boy.’ Eddie praises, kissing Steve’s legs that are still around his face. Working his way upward until he can lay them gently back down on the bed. ‘Want you to teach me baby, show me how you feel good.’ Eddie says sweetly, laying down next to him. Crowding in close and kissing Steve’s shoulder. 

Steve lets his knees fall apart. ‘You’re gonna watch?’ He asks softly, waiting for Eddie’s nod before he grips himself. Stroking long and slow across his length, biting his lips. Finally able to touch, his fingers twist and tweak the head, pressing where shaft meets tip. Just the way he likes it. Steve groans. 

‘That’s it baby, don’t think, just do what feels good.’ 

And Steve looks at Eddie, leaning up on his elbow, head on his palm. Dark brown eyes eating Steve whole. 

He sinks. Some part of his brain slipping away into darkness. Everything a black pool of sensation and need. Soft and warm and floating. ‘Daddy.’ He says softly, slurring and keening and weak. He feels so needy, so good and free and down. 

‘Yeah baby, Daddy’s watching.’ And Steve moans, eyes closing again, fingers tightening, squeezing and teasing and he brings his hand up, sticks his finger in his mouth, tasting the salty slick and letting spit coat his digits, laving at his own palm. 

Gripping himself again he arches at the new glide, hips rolling as a deep moan vibrates from the base of his chest. 

‘Do you ever touch here? That feel good?’ And Eddie’s fingers slip over and past Steve’s balls, dipping into the skin of his taint, pressing and seeking and sharp pleasure spikes up Steve’s spine. Has him writhing on the bed. 

‘Oh you do.’ And Eddie’s smiling, almost awed. ‘Baby likes that. Have you fingered yourself to Stevie?’ He asks. 

The words get stuck, sticking like peanut butter on Steve’s tongue. ‘Yeh.’ He manages, huffy and weak. ‘Sometimes, but, s’hard, to, ah ah, get the angle right.’ And he reaches down, as if to show Eddie, as if to do more, be good, be better. 

But Eddie smacks his hand away lightly. ‘I’ll find you the best angle another night baby, you just focus on showing me how to use that pretty cock of yours yeah?’ And Steve moans, feeling wet and dripping and silken. Eddie’s fingers pressing and searching, a dry pressure on his hole, stroking the course hairs and thumbing that part again. ‘Let Daddy do the thinking, you just be pretty for me. You have such nice hands baby. Do you like it, like playing with the tip most?’ He murmurs in Steve’s ear. He can feel Eddie’s own hard on pressing into his hip. Feels where he’s leaking over his own fingers. 

Eddie’s watching him, rapt, as Steve switches hands and brings his dripping fingers up to his own mouth to suck clean. His eyes feel heavy, his thoughts gooey and slow but he hears Eddie’s sharp inhale of breath, feels saliva pool on his tongue and soak his fingers further. The presence of something in his mouth makes his hips roll and he fucks up into his own fist. 

‘You’re so fucking hot. Baby, oh my god, looks so good when you let go like this.’ Eddie babbles, almost talking more to himself than directly to Steve, his denim clad cock grinding ever so slightly again. 

The compliments sit heavy and squirming in Steve’s gut, make him moan loudly around his fingers, eyelashes fluttering as he tries to keep his gaze on Eddie. Hand speeding up, squeezing his shaft and twisting the head and he feels a fire building inside him. 

‘That’s it baby, let me hear you, s’okay, s’okay to let go.’ Eddie whispers, lips on Steve’s cheeks, kissing up into his hair and Steve needs to feel him, needs to be close, closer, he’s right on the edge. 

He takes his spit soaked fingers out of his mouth, reaching for Eddie’s jaw, feeling the roughness of new stubble against his palm. ‘Can I? Daddy can I?’ He begs, desperate. Turning his head so their eyes lock together. 

‘Let go baby boy, come for Daddy.’ Eddie says nuzzling into Steve’s hand, taking the tips of a finger into his mouth and biting. 

Steve does. He arches, muscles tensing, orgasming long and deep and groaning. He squeezes his eyes shut as he milks himself, shifting until it hurts. Eddie’s fingers ghost back up and over his balls, massaging the goop into his pubes, stroking the hair by his hip. ‘My good boy, so good for me baby.’ Eddie coos, kissing Steve’s crown and his hips are still grinding, slow and sultry and aching. 

Steve’s panting, floating and filthy and he needs Eddie to come too, needs him to finish, needs his show to have been useful. ‘Want. Want Daddy’s come.’ He breaths, whining, panting, feels like he could cry. 

‘Nah, sweet Prince, want you to feel good. Did it feel good?’ Eddie dismisses, circling a nipple with his fingertips. 

And Steve actually might be crying now, he thinks, sniffing. ‘Yeah but, but you need to feel good too.’ He whines. 

‘I did baby I did. Want tonight to just be for you, and you did so well, such a good boy for me.’ Eddie placates, kissing Steve’s cheek. 

Steve sniffles, whines, reaching for the fly of Eddie’s jeans, he can still feel Eddie’s half hard cock pressed up against him. ‘But, but Daddy. You have to as well, make you finish, be good, feel good too.’ He reasons, babbling desperately, slurring and pleading now with Eddie. 

Eddie grips Steve’s wrists, gentle, but firm, making his freeze. ‘Steve, no. I don’t want to, not right now. I just want to take care of you.’ And Eddie’s voice has a hardness to it that Steve knows is final. 

He crumples, the fight leaving him as he curls up into Eddie’s chest. He just, he’s supposed to help, it’s not supposed to all be about him. Before he knows it a sob chokes out from behind his teeth, forcing its way out between his heavy tongue and lips. 

Eddie’s arms wrap around him instantly, folding Steve into his chest. ‘S’okay baby, let it out. My good boy, Daddy’s good boy.’ Eddie breaths, rocking them slightly. And that just makes Steve cry harder. His foggy thoughts tangling together, muddy and thick and why does it hurt when Eddie’s so sweet like this, why does it ache to be held so gently and why does Steve feel like his tantrum is finally being heard. He’s finally being seen and coddled and tended to with kid gloves. Eddie’s here, his Daddy’s here. 

‘It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay.’ Eddie whispers, squeezing Steve in his arms. ‘I’ve got you.’ 

Steve bawls. 

-

When Steve wakes the room is dark. He rolls over, releasing the pillow that was clutched to his chest. The only source of light comes from the ancient yellow streetlight out front; peaking through the old blinds and leaving patches of orange across the carpet. 

The bed is empty, but warm and Steve realises he’s clean, with a fresh pair of Eddie’s boxers pulled on. 

He groans, pushing his face into the pillow. Cheeks no longer tacky with tears but his throat is dry from them. He’s tired, and embarrassed. But, while his chest aches, it’s got that familiar lightness that can come from a cry like the one he had. 

He hears the faucet pipes rattle in the kitchen, hears a mug being set on the counter. Steve bites his lip, gets up and pulls on one of Eddie’s old sweatshirts from a pile of clothes strewn across the desk. He takes a deep breath and walks through to the kitchen. 

Eddie is leaning against the counter, curled in on himself and biting at his thumbnail. Staring through the pot of water on the stove. 

Steve steps closer, fingers pulling at a hole in the sweatshirts ribbing, Eddie jumps slightly as he notices him. 

‘Hey.’ Eddie says, in soft surprise. Stepping up close and tucking a lock of hair behind Steve’s ear. ‘Did I wake you? M’sorry, how are you feeling? Oh, do you want tea? I’ll make you tea.’ And he’s stepping away again, flitting around the cabinets and muttering to himself. He gets another mug out and laughs humourlessly. ‘Was already making tea, stupid.’ 

Steve takes the mug gripped too tightly in Eddie’s fingers. ‘You okay?’ he asks, filling it up at the tap and chugging. 

‘Yeah, ‘cause. Are you okay?’ Eddie says quickly. 

Steve turns back, leaning on the counter himself, can’t really look Eddie in the eyes. ‘I’m, yeah. Just.’ He groans, pulling his hand down his face. ‘I can’t believe, I acted like.’ He huffs. ‘I’m, yeah. Sorry.’ He sets the mug down next to him, shifting up to sit on the counter, more of an excuse to still not look Eddie in the eye. 

‘Stevie, I-‘ Eddie starts, but the water is boiling, pulling his attention. He curses gently as he turns the stove off and fills their mugs. He’s made the same tea he’d made that one time Steve came over with a headache and Eddie took the roll of nursing him back to health super seriously. 

It makes Steve smile down at his lap at the memory. But it shifts and he frowns, he acted, he’s so embarrassed. 

‘I, Eddie.’ He starts. ‘I’m sorry for, freaking out. I shouldn’t have reacted like that.’ Steve grips the mug, heat stinging his fingers. ‘I honestly don’t even know what happened, one minute it was like, amazing. Seriously. And the next I got it in my head that it would be like, a huge moral failing, and a, a betrayal or something, if I didn’t make you finish right then and there. It, yeah, I don’t even know.’ Steve finishes lamely, voice wavering. 

‘Steve.’ Eddie says gently, almost sad. His hand hovers over Steve’s thigh, before drawing back and curling it up against his chest. 

Steve can’t hear it yet, can’t stop. ‘You, you were saying no and I, I didn’t listen. I’m so sorry.’ He feels his throat close and his eyes sting. Swallowing it down and scrubbing roughly at his cheeks. ‘I don’t, I never want to make you feel like that, like I’d do something like that.’ he mumbles, sniffing. 

Eddie scoffs, pushing away from the counter and pacing a tiny circle in the tiny trailer kitchen. 

Steve flinches at the noise, upset and, he gets it. ‘I, look, I can go.’ He scoots forward so his feet hit the ground again, resigning himself to a cold drive home and even colder nights sleep. 

But Eddie just groans, burying his hands in his hair and pulling, shaking his head. 

‘Eddie?’ Steve starts, worried. He knows he messed up but, well. 

‘You, you’re just, saying all that like it was your fault. Like you did anything.’ Eddie bursts, voice wet and desperate and Steve’s mouth closes with a soft click. 

He’s stopped pacing, palms stretched out and upwards like Eddie’s begging Steve for answers, like Steve’s knows what’s going on. Eddie must see some of the confusion, the little bit of fear, in Steve’s expression because he draws back in on himself, hands clasping at the back of his neck and elbows pulled in close. 

He looks down at his feet, mumbling sadly. ‘I just, I can’t believe you trusted me with something like that and first thing I go and do is make you cry.’ And his voice sounds wet, and pained and Steve doesn’t even think as he steps forward and pulls Eddie into his arms. Shoulder of the sweatshirt dampening as Eddie clings to him. 

-

Steve leads them back to the bedroom with gentle fingers around Eddie’s wrist. Putting the record they were listening to earlier back on and stepping in close again. 

He drapes his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and his big brown Bambi eyes look so damn nervous it nearly breaks Steve’s heart. 

‘I’ve never done that with anyone before, never said that word.’ Steve starts, brushing some hair away from Eddie’s cheek. ‘But I did today, you wanna know why?’ He asks, trying to keep his voice level, trying to soothe both their nerves. 

Eddie shakes his head, hands migrating to Steve’s hips like a reflex he’s not aware of. Steve takes a deep breath, resting his forehead against Eddie’s for a beat. 

‘Because I felt safe.’ Steve says, eyes wetting again despite himself. He decides to smile through it, pulling back to take all of Eddie in. ‘I had the best day with you Ed’s, how you included me with your friends, and held me while we watched that movie. Cooking dinner together and you kept kissing me on the forehead.’ He brings a hand up, combing his fingers through Eddie’s curls, pushing them over his shoulder. Eyes trailing over Eddie’s red cheekbones and scarred earlobe as the vulnerability of eye contact becomes too much. 

‘And, and then in here you were so sweet, so sweet like you always are, attentive and kind and sexy and, I. I feel safe with you Eddie. You asked and I told you and, like.’ Steve swallows. ‘That word is, it’s really vulnerable for me, I guess. I don’t know why it turns me on so much or why I reacted the way I did but I just think I knew that you’d look after me and you did. You did and it was wonderful, until it maybe wasn’t but that had nothing to do with you, just, something to try. Or like, do different next time, yeah? If, I mean, if you’re okay with there being a next time. Obviously, you might. Sorry.’ Steve looses steam and looks down, focuses on where Eddie’s collarbone peaks out of his old sleep shirt, instead of what might be happening on his face. 

‘Stevie.’ Eddie says softly, bringing his fingers up to Steve’s chin, tilting his face back upwards. 

Eddie’s cheeks are flush, his eyes tacky with the remnants of tears. But they also sparkle with something else. Something joyous and lovely and Steve thinks a whole world of stars might exist within Eddie Munson’s eyes, a whole galaxy of possibilities. 

Steve feels love bloom inside him, swelling his rib cage and filling his veins. He moves in just as Eddie does; their lips reconnecting, feeling and seeking. Bliss-filed. And when they pull apart, sharing breath as their noses brush together Steve can’t help but smile. Smile so big his cheeks hurt. He smiles and leans forward and kisses Eddie with more teeth than lips, kisses and kisses and kisses. 

Until Eddie threads his fingers through the hair at the base of Steve’s skull, slowing them, pulling them apart gently. ‘Come on.’ He says, leading Steve back to bed. 

And Eddie pulls them down, manoeuvring until they’re forehead to forehead and knee to knee. Bracketing each other, sharing air and space and skin. 

‘I’m sorry for crying.’ Steve whispers eventually, into their warm silence. 

‘I’m sorry for making you cry.’ Eddie whispers back. 

‘You really didn’t. I liked it, all of it, that word just makes me feel crazy.’ Steve reiterates, threading his calf between Eddie’s. 

‘You liked crying?’ Eddie teases, no longer tense, no longer sad. And Steve smacks him lightly, fighting his grin. 

And their comfortable silence stretches again, until Steve sighs. ‘The crying, it, really wasn’t you. I just like, wasn’t listening and didn’t really get that you could just, uh. Could just want to focus on me.’ He says, fiddling with the neckline of Eddie’s T-shirt. 

Eddie grabs his fingers, kissing them and moves closer, so Steve’s thigh slots between Eddie’s bony knees, their ankles tangling. ‘What about before, the rest of it, did you like that?’ 

Steve rolls his eyes, squirming, pulling Eddie in by the waist. ‘Yeah. Liked it a lot.’ His cheeks feel warm. ‘Did uh, did you?’

‘Sure did sugar.’ Eddie purrs and Steve squirms again. ‘Got so damn sweet for me, letting me take care of you.’ He murmurs into Steve’s cheek, kissing it. 

‘God, you’re gonna give me a complex if you keep saying shit like that.’ Steve groans, covering his hot face with his hands. 

But Eddie pulls them away, hands wrapped around Steve’s wrists again, gripping them, kissing him quick and soft. Steve’s eyelashes flutter, sinking once more into the blanket of loveliness that is being here. Being held by Eddie Munson. 

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Taglist: @scoops-aboy86 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @whimsicalwadewinstonwilson @marvel-ous-m

@chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor

[zhounauts]

͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏──── ☆ NOT WHAT SHE SEEMS ! ͏͏͏͏͏NRK X FMR ᵂᶜ⁵⁹⁸

☰♪ TRACK NO.7 OF THE REWIND! ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏☆ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏SERIES MASTERLIST

if someone had told riki that he'd be stumbling over his words and tripping on his feet because of yn, class 2-5's certified teacher's pet, he'd laugh.

riki had grown used to (and tired of) hearing your voice every class, ringing through the silence to answer every single question.

he hated the stupid way you'd correct anybody if they were wrong, and the way you'd always be the first person to raise their hand.

he hated you got special treatment from the teachers, and the way you would scold him for wearing his uniform wrong, having his airpods in, sleeping, not taking notes, and more. the list was endless.

he also hated how, despite that, you were still nice to everyone, and minus the scolding, you still treated him well.

right. and he hated how stupidly pretty you were.

but then summer break comes around, and riki doesn't have to see you again.

but he does. school was never his strong suit, but one thing he knew for sure, was that you of all people should not be here.

he expected that the next time he'd see you again would be back in classroom 2-5, your hair tied in it's usual pony tail, uniform flawless, and your hand up in the sky waiting to be called on.

his expectations are shattered.

because there you are, in the middle of the crowd of revving car engines, the screeching of tires, and the burning smell of gasoline.

you're laughing with a guy, twirling your hair, and being everything that you shouldn't be. your pony tail is gone, and so is your usually speck-free uniform.

he watches you, from his spot in the crowd, utterly flabbergasted. utterly drawn.

your goody-two shoes image is fading fast, and riki can't look away from you no matter how hard he tries. his heart stops when you make eye contact. and he knows you've seen him when your eyes open slightly, before they harden.

next thing he knows you're walking towards him, hips swaying in your baggy jeans and hair blowing in the night wind.

"yn?" thats the only thing riki can pathetically squeak out, his usual confidence gone with your appearance. you laugh.

"how's your summer vacation going?'

"uhm," riki stumbles, "good, nothing much. erm. how about you?"

"the usual," you answer, "i'm excited to head back soon," riki blinks.

"right." he says. you smile.

"i gotta go, see you," you turn without letting him answer, leaving riki flabbergasted for the nth time this day. he can't help but watch as you leave, his eyes unable to let you go until you disappear from view. and his mind doesn't let you go either, you're imprinted in it, and he's entranced.

the next time riki sees you it's class 2-5 again.

and you're back, with your ponytail and spotless uniform, traces of that august night completely gone. for some reason, he's rendered speechless again, standing at the entrance of the class with his eyes on you.

you're helping someone out with something as usual, and everything is seemingly normal. riki starts to think that what happened was a dream, especially when he walks past you, and you don't acknowledge him at all despite making eye contact.

but then in the middle of class, his eyes find you again, and there you are with the same smile you gave him that night.

and then you bring your finger to your mouth, shushing him along with the night where you were everything but what you seemed.

but he couldn't forget. not when you were so unforgettable.

© zhounauts 2024

[t1oui]

“i’m going to marry you someday,” james says, running his fingers through regulus’s curls. regulus smiles, his ear pressed to james’s heart.

“yeah?” he asks. “when?”

“as soon as you graduate.” james’s heartbeat stays steady, like this is a regular conversation on a regular night.

“yeah?” regulus asks, glancing up, meeting james’s eyes. his eyes are gray like a storm, and they’re so, so beautiful. “how?”

james smiles. “in the fields behind my parents’ house,” he says. “in summer. we’ll have everybody there — sirius and moony and peter and the girls, and all your friends, too. it’ll be perfect.”

regulus settles his head on james’s chest again. “you have this all planned out, don’t you?” he asks. james stares up at the sky, searching and finally locating regulus’s star. his star.

“of course i do,” he says. i love you, he almost says, but he leaves that for another night.

~

“i’m going to marry you someday,” james says, pulling regulus closer. his laugh lights up james’s world.

“tell me about it,” regulus says, intertwining their fingers.

“we’ll dance like this,” james says, placing his hand on regulus’s waist. “all night. with everybody, all our friends. and we won’t get tired.”

regulus laughs again. his eyes are closed, and he’s pressed his cheek to james’s chest. “how will we manage that?” he asks.

james thinks for a moment, still swaying them back and forth across the floor of the astronomy tower. he’s never been good at multitasking.

“potions,” james decides. “and firewhiskey, probably.”

“mm,” regulus hums. “i won’t drink any.”

“no?”

“no.” he pulls back, opening his eyes, and smiles up at james, gray eyes twinkling. “i want to remember every second of it.”

~

“i’m going to marry you someday,” james whispers, trying to ignore the way his voice cracks. “and then i’ll get you out of here.”

regulus gives him a weak smile and scoots closer, turning around and pressing his back to james’s chest.

“tell me where we’ll go,” he says quietly. “when we run away.”

james swallows thickly, glances down at the mark on regulus’s forearm.

“away,” he says. “where they can’t hurt us.”

where i’m free, he doesn’t say, from you.

~

“i wish i was a coward,” james says, his eyes fixed on the sky. on that star — not his, after all. he looks away, but it doesn’t matter. tears cloud his vision. “i wish i didn’t have to run away from you.”

there’s no response. he’s not surprised. there’s nothing for the headstone to say anyway. james bites back a sob, wiping the tears away just in time for more to appear.

“i wish i didn’t have to run away,” he says, setting the ring down in the grass, “but i’m not sorry i left.”

[ladyinwriting18]

The Start Of Something New (Bruce BannerxReader)

Summary: Meeting you sparks something new for Bruce AND Hulk.

Words: 5,852 Warnings: Sex on the first date, PIV, Oral sex (female receiving), Hulk is a flirt, Only sex with Bruce tho.

When Tony had handed over the username and password to a newly made dating profile, Bruce had been very confused, and honestly, a tad reluctant.

However, after being hounded by his best friend to just give it a try, he gave in. The first few swipes had gone horribly. Most women unmatched with him after the first few messages. Or worse, they knew he was in the Avengers and had some sort of weird fetish about it. That is until he matched with you. Sweet, funny, beautiful, hard-working you. 

You were like a meteor that knocked him out of orbit.

Something different than anything he had experienced with other partners. Messaging back and forth in the app had quickly turned into an exchange of numbers. Texting with you had been easier because it gave Bruce time to analyze his responses, but hearing your laugh while talking on the phone? God, he was certain there was no better sound. You were so open and honest that communicating came naturally. Which wasn’t something he was used to after his failed relationship with Natasha. He pushes those thoughts from his mind and instead focuses on nervously pacing outside of the Aquarium. After a month of good morning texts and late-night phone calls—today is the day. The day the two of you would finally meet in person and go on your first real date. You two had shared coffee over Facetime a few times, but to Bruce those weren’t dates. This would decide if you’d want to continue communicating. And though you made him feel at ease whenever the two of you spoke, the thought of fucking it all up weighs heavily on him. Bruce checks his watch for the fifth time before catching sight of his reflection in the glass exterior of the building. He fixes his hair while giving himself a pep talk. “Come on, Bruce. You’ve got this. Don’t overthink it, just be yourself.” Your Uber pulls up just as he finishes his words of affirmation. He quickly straightens his back and turns to see you just as you step out of the car. You’re wearing the prettiest little sundress that sways softly in the summer breeze. He gulps. You look perfect. Jogging over to you, he holds out his hand to help you up onto the curb. “Hey!” He closes the car door behind you with a nervous smile, “T-thanks for coming. You look amazing.”

You can tell that Bruce is nervous and it warms your heart. Little does he know that you feel similar. Not only is he a brilliant scientist, but he has saved the world multiple times…what right do you have to spend time with him? You try not to let your insecurities show and squeeze his hand, not only as a comfort to him, but for you as well. “Aw Bruce, thank you. That’s so sweet of you to say.” You let yourself size him up before quirking your head to the side. “You look rather handsome.” His cheeks flush, though he tries to hide it by talking about where he’s chosen to take you for your date.

“I was glad to hear that you enjoy the aquarium.” He keeps your hand in his as he steers you towards the entrance. “I thought it would be the perfect place to bring a so-fish-ticated woman like yourself.” Bruce laughs at his own dad joke before rubbing his face in embarrassment. Tony had told him to keep the dumb jokes at a minimum. But then his ears perk up at the sound of you giggling and a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Just like the first time he heard you laugh over the phone, he’s instantly put at ease, “Thank you for not clam-ming up at my terrible humor.” You giggle harder, your free hand coming up to grip his bicep. “Your humor is not terrible!” you lightly scold as you approach the first tank of colorful fish. They instantly capture your attention. “Wow, they’re all so beautiful!” Your hand on Bruce’s bicep feels so warm. He can’t stop himself from staring at your reflection in the glass—you look good together. 

“Which one is your favorite?” he asks to stop himself from planning out an entire future with you. It’s too soon for that. Especially when there are so many variables that could mess things up. You tilt your head to the side, taking a moment to respond, “Hmmm, probably this one.” You point to a fish with a blend of blue and purple scales. 

He nods and looks at the corresponding identification card printed next to the tank.

“Oh look here, that one is native to Wakanda. The scales are used to produce important and sustainable fertilizer for their diverse agricultural offerings.” He realizes he’s rambling, and looks to you wide-eyed. “Sorry, I tend to ramble when I get excited.” You smile and turn to face him fully. “There’s nothing to apologize for. You’re so smart, Bruce. I could listen to you talk for hours.” Sheepishly, he rubs the back of his neck. He can’t deny that the praise feels good but he feels undeserving. “I mean I only read what the identification card says,” he deflects with a teasing grin, hoping the joke would hide his insecurities. You cock your hip before playfully swatting at his upper arm. There’s such a fire in you. Bruce adores it. “You know what I mean, Doctor Banner. Now, show me which fish is your favorite?” Your curiosity about his interests has him lighting up. He doesn’t hesitate to pull you over to another tank. “My favorite is right over here.” Dropping your hand, he instead comes to stand behind you. With one hand on your waist and the other pointing out the fish. He hadn’t meant to tuck you so perfectly against him, but he did, and now he doesn’t ever want to move away. The smell of your shampoo and perfume mix together, leaving him totally captivated. It takes all his restraint to keep talking and not bury his face into your hair. 

“That’s the puffer fish, or Tetraodontidae. They have this defense mechanism, so basically, when they are threatened, they can expand to over double their size. I guess I have a soft spot for them.” 

You find yourself leaning back against his chest as you listen to his explanation. His reasoning not only makes perfect sense but shows you how insightful he can be. “I can understand why. It’s almost like you and Hulk.” You turn your head to meet his gaze. It’s only then that you both realize just how close you’ve both become. Bruce can’t help but notice that his lips are inches from yours. “Yes. It’s like me and Hulk.” His voice comes out huskier than he intends. There’s a tension building. One that’s begging to break free. All either one of you would have to do is close the last remaining inches, but before you can, Bruce’s watch beeps. It breaks the trance and has you both stepping back from one another. He checks his watch and silences the alarm. “Shoot, we have to hurry. There’s something I need to show you!” Without another word, he takes your hand and starts leading you to another part of the aquarium. There’s a bounce in his step as he walks you to the big surprise. His whole reason for picking the aquarium for your first date is because on your dating profile, you had written that your favorite animals are otters. Bruce had tucked this piece of information away until he needed it. He had painstakingly looked for an aquarium that not only had an otters exhibit but gave people the chance to pet them. He couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you found out. But when you both turn the corner you are instead faced with a giant sign that reads “Exhibit Closed for Renovation”. His heart drops and the blood in his veins starts to boil. He had checked the website! Had planned the entire date around this! “The website said it was going to be open!” he grits out as the hand not holding yours clenches into a fist. He feels Hulk beneath his skin, tugging to be let out. Bruce tries to suppress the feeling, but his chest begins to heave. Things have been better between them. No longer did he treat Hulk as a monster but as a part of him. Bruce made space for him in his home and life, which led to them not needing to fight one another for control. Instead, they attempted to live side by side. However, this is different. It mirrors a time when even the slightest inconvenience would trigger the Hulk. The tips of his ears and fingers prickle to a subtle shade of green. “This isn’t fair. Now everything is ruined!” He lets out a low growl and grips the hand he’s holding until you wince. You don’t have time to respond before you’re forced to rip your hand out of his grasp. That’s when you notice the color of his fingertips. Not knowing what to do to help, but not willing to abandon him, you step in front of him and cup his face. “Bruce? I need you to look at me. Nothing is ruined.” As you talk, you maneuver him backward until you’re both tucked away in a corner close to an emergency exit. You figure this is the best place for him to be if he did in fact lose control. Unfortunately, Bruce doesn’t respond. Instead, he tucks his chin to his chest and continues to breathe heavily. You say his name with a little more force, but still, nothing. He’s too preoccupied with the fury bubbling in his stomach. It causes tendrils of anger to spread through his limbs. Your words are muffled and your touch is hot. All his internal attempts to calm himself are destroyed by the deep seeded anger and self-loathing. 

“This always happens. I can’t do anything right. Everything is ruined.” You’re more panicked now, it’s evident in your tone. “Forget about the otters! I don’t care. Please, Bruce, I’m just happy to be here with you!” What do you do? How do you break him from this spell? You needed him to focus on the good! An idea pops into your mind and before you have a chance to think it over…you do it. You grip his face, jerking it towards you, and kiss him—hard on the mouth. Your arms encircle his neck, putting your all into the kiss and trembling slightly. All you can do is pray your plan works and he kisses you back. For Bruce, his world stops spinning and time stands still. The kiss is enough to bring him back to the present. His heart rate settles and his skin tone reverts to normal, but his eyes are shut tight. He can’t kiss you back, not like this. Not when you were only kissing him for your safety. So he gently pushes you away. “T-Thank you…for that but I’m…I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to…do that just to shut me up.” His words confuse you and you speak over him before he can continue, “I didn’t do it to shut you up! I did it because I wanted to and because I thought giving you something happy to think about would help.” You lose your nerve, faltering momentarily. “I…I’m sorry if I was wrong. I shouldn’t have kissed you without your consent.” Bruce’s brow furrows and he finally meets your gaze again. “Wait, you wanted to kiss me?” You nod in earnest and he smiles. He brings his hand to cup your cheek. “You were so brave and strong. I can’t thank you enough for being here for me.” You relax into his touch, letting your face rest in his palm. You’re so beautiful and sweet. It makes Bruce long for things he hasn’t allowed himself to want. “I’m also sorry for assuming you were kissing me out of pity. I guess I just couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to kiss…that.” He motions behind him, to where the Hulk had almost been standing. 

You tilt your head to the side, giving him a questionable look. “The Hulk is just a part of you. I know you’re used to people being afraid of him, but I’m not. I would kiss you, him, and anything else in between.” His cheeks twinge pink. Someone kissing Hulk? That wasn’t something Bruce could even fathom, but the feeling of his pulse skipping a beat tells him that his green counterpart is excited by the offer. Nervously, he chuckles at the realization. “W-Why don’t we take things one step at a time?” He says this not only to you but to appease Hulk into calming down. You take his hand and nod in agreement. The touch sends tingles from his palm and up his arm, making him feel bold. “Can I…I mean, may I kiss you? For real this time?” You nod with a smile and Bruce closes the distance between you. The kiss is soft and chaste but he can still taste the sweetness of your mouth. He hums at the taste but pulls away before he loses himself. “There’s one more thing I wanted to show you.” He extends his hand to you. “Come with me?” You take it and let him lead you to the back of the aquarium. He leads you past countless tanks of exotic fish until you come to a dark room. So dark that it’s almost pitch black, but quickly your eyes adjust, revealing tanks filled with various-sized jellyfish. You gasp at how delicate they are, their subtle glow showing their translucence. Their bodies pushing and pulling them through the water in an almost intricate dance. 

“Did you know that jellyfish are the world's oldest animal?” You shake your head ‘no’, transfixed on the tanks before you but soaking in his words like a sponge. “Scientists have found fossils indicating they preceded dinosaurs. I think they're magical.” You’re alone in this small dark space, and Bruce steps closer to whisper into your ear. “I think you’re pretty magical too.”

You gasp and turn towards him, whispering his name just before he captures your lips in another kiss. He’s more confident now, pulling you closer by your waist and gripping your hips tightly. You make out like teenagers, anxious and hungry for more. He whimpers at how good you feel and you can’t help but shudder against him in response. Your hands slide up to wrap around his broad shoulders. You feel safe in his arms so you push your body flush against him. He responds in turn, opening his mouth so that your tongues can touch. You’re so turned on that you’re certain you’ll combust, but he breaks the kiss. He’s breathing hard, clearly attempting to calm his heart rate. You give him space to do so and instead lace your fingers with his. He smiles his thanks before speaking. “How about on the way out, we take you to the gift shop so I can buy you a stuffed otter to make up for not being able to see the real ones?” You nod in excitement until it clicks that the date will be ending soon. “I would love that, but…what if after, I didn’t want to go home? What if I wanted to go home with you?” It takes Bruce a few moments to process exactly what you’re asking, but once it does his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Yes! Uh…I mean, I would be honored.” The gift shop, walking to his car, and the drive to his home go by in a blur. One minute, you were asking him to take you home, and the next, you were holding a stuffed otter in your lap as he opened the car door for you.

You smile at the gesture, letting him help you out of his car, and walking up the front steps to his home. Little do you know, Bruce is holding his breath in hopes that he hadn’t left his home a mess before leaving. He sighs in relief after unlocking the door and seeing that the house is relatively clean. You step forward, taking in your surroundings, but his eyes are taking in your body. He imagines taking you to his bed and undressing you slowly. You move about his home, having no idea he was undressing you with his eyes. “You have a lovely home, Bruce. Most guy’s homes are…well…gross.” You giggle to yourself before placing your otter on the couch. He says your name in a way that make the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. It sounds hot…needy…sexual. You turn to him, and like the opposite ends of two magnets, you’re pulled together–crashing into each other. No longer able to resist, your hands grope and mouths meet. You want to beg for more but he’s already hoisting you up by the waist and carrying you down the hall. You don’t know where he’s taking you, and frankly, you don’t care as long as he keeps kissing you. 

He stumbles while pushing open his bedroom door with his foot, but quickly regains his stride over to his bed so he can carefully lay you down. Your hair fans out along his pillows and he sighs. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.” 

Hearing him curse has you biting your bottom lip. You grip his shirt and tug him towards you until he’s leaning over you. “I want you, Bruce. I’ve wanted you since the first time we talked on the phone.” He nearly chokes at your confession because he’s certain he had made an utter fool of himself on that phone call. “Please…” Your plea breaks him from his thoughts as your fingers start working on unbuttoning his shirt. “Please don’t make me wait anymore.” Shit. Shit. Shit. This was happening. This was really about to happen. Bruce’s cock jumps within the confines of his pants. “I won’t, Princess. I won’t make you wait.” His words are rushed, breathless as trembling fingers work on unzipping your sundress. “I’ve been wanting you too.” You’re both rushing to get one another naked now. His shirt. Your dress. His pants. Your bra. His cock is freed from his boxers and Bruce sighs with relief. You blush at the sight of how hard and thick he is. It would fill you up so perfectly. He looks at you with the same amount of desire in his gaze. Your nipples harden under that gaze, causing his cock to throb. And then he’s on you, crawling over your body so he can cage you beneath him. He can’t help himself from kissing his way down your chest and stomach, pausing only when he gets to the waistband of your lace panties. “May I?”

He doesn’t need to ask, but the fact that he does warms your heart. You nod, giving your consent, and he hooks two fingers under the lace. You lift your hips, making it easier for your panties to be pulled down your legs. Once free of them, you let your legs fall away to reveal your cunt to him. You blush, knowing you’re already wet with slick. “Your kisses have been making me wet all afternoon,” you whisper, embarrassed. Bruce perks up at this information, letting a finger trace along your folds. “Wow, really? All afternoon?” You nod, your face feeling hot. “I love that you’re this wet for me.” He turns his head so he can leave kisses along your inner thigh. “I want to taste,” he groans, hungry for it. So hungry that he dives his face between your thighs, licking from your slit to your clit. He moans as the taste and scent of your cunt fill his senses. You moan at the feeling of his tongue alternating between licking your clit and slipping his tongue inside. Each time, your inner walls clench around the muscles of his tongue. “Oh God, y-you’re so good with your mouth!” you pant, starting to buck your hips. Lewdly, he devours your wetness, grunting against your flesh. His arms wrap around your thighs and pull you forward so your cunt is smashed against his face. He turns his focus on your clit, eagerly sucking on it. He’s so turned on by the noises you’re making and the taste on his tongue that he can’t stop himself from rutting into the mattress to get some relief. “I want you to cum on my face,” he declares suddenly, as if the idea just popped into his head and he couldn’t stop himself from saying it out loud. “Can you do that for me?” You find that you can only nod as the pleasure steadily builds throughout your limbs. “Here, let me try this,” he says as he slips his middle finger into your awaiting hole. Instantly, you grind down on it, crying out his name when he starts fingering you harder. His mouth returns to your clit, swirling his tongue over it to drive you closer and closer to the edge. And damn are you close to that edge. You scream for him, tell him how good he’s making you feel. He doesn’t let up, and without warning, your back is arching off the bed as you cum all over his face, just like he wanted you to. He works you through your aftershocks, licking up every drop of cum that spills out of you until your body slumps back onto the bed. It’s only then that he eases his finger out and sits back on his knees. “That…was incredible,” he pants with a light chuckle and then leans over you once more to leave a kiss on your temple. “Thank you for that, Princess.” You practically purr at the nickname. Usually, names like that give you the ick, but Bruce saying it gives you butterflies. “I love it when you call me that. I like being your Princess.” You hook a leg around his waist, beckoning him closer so his cock is nestled against the cleft of your cunt. He whimpers, grinding his erection against you. He wants to be inside you, wants to fuck you hard and deep, but he needs to slow down. “W-Wait, wait,” he pleads, holding your hips firm in an attempt to keep you both in place. “We…We need to talk first.” Something about his tone gives you pause. “What’s the matter?”you ask, giving him your full attention. Bruce worries at his bottom lip, wanting to say the right thing. “I don’t want to scare you but…sometimes…uh, when I cum, I turn a little…green.” A blush works its way up from his neck. “If you catch my drift.” You sit up, more intrigued than afraid, but the man before you misunderstands and continues on nervously. “You have n-nothing to worry about, I promise you. I would never let anything happen to you.” You silence him by pressing a finger to his lips. “I’m not afraid. Not of you or of him. I want to make you cum.” Your hand drops, replacing it with your lips, whispering against his mouth. “I want to make you both cum.”

Your acceptance of him and his other half stirs an animalistic lust from deep within him. When he moves on top of you, it feels as if it’s in tandem with Hulk. They had never moved as one before. Had never wanted the same thing so completely as they do now. 

Bruce kisses you roughly, tongues rolling along one another while their bodies grind. He aligns his cock with your opening, moaning in between your kisses. “Is that what the sweet girl wants? To make us cum so hard that we turn for you?” His voice is deeper, with pupils blown wide with lust. His words have your heart racing, and although this is your first time in Bruce’s bed…something tells you it’s both he and Hulk who would be fucking you tonight. You push your forehead against his and nod eagerly. If he was going to speak, it’s cut off by the growl that bubbles up from his throat. He’s completely overtaken by his feral alter ego, and in one fell swoop, sheathes his cock fully inside of you. You yelp, tensing at the sudden intrusion, but damn does he fill you up. However, the sound seems to bring Bruce back into himself. “S-Shit, I’m sorry. Are you alright?” 

You feel him starting to pull out of your heat. “Don’t!” you cry, wrapping your legs around him to keep him in place. “D-Don’t stop, Bruce. You feel so good. Please don’t stop.”

He nods, relieved that he hasn’t hurt you, and starts rolling his hips. “Mmhh, you feel good too. So tight.” But his slow pace doesn’t last long. His hands push your legs away, giving him space to pull out and then slam back in. You both throw your heads back, swearing loudly at the first deep thrust. Your walls had clenched so perfectly around his length so he pulls out and does it again. The drag of his thick cock along your walls is making you gush. You scream his name and claw at his back. You can’t seem to focus on anything but the hard pounding rhythm of his cock. Bruce bows his head and starts kissing, biting and sucking at your breasts. He does so as passionately as he had eaten your cunt, making you wonder if he has a slight oral fixation when it comes to sex. Not that you mind. You’ll wear the marks he’s leaving on your breasts with pride. 

A hand reaches between your legs to find your clit and rub firm circles on it. You arch into his touch and thrusts, trying to meet both. It causes a wet slapping noise to fill the room as he ruts into you. 

Every thrust brings a flush of green across Bruce’s broad back. But he can’t cum. Can’t turn. 

He needs to make you cum and he needs to keep you safe. But his control is slipping the closer his orgasm becomes. “A-Am I making you feel good, Princess?” You don’t hesitate to moan your reply in between desperate pants, “Yes, fuck yes! G-Getting close. More Bruce. Fuck m-me more, make me cum!” Any momentary self-consciousness fades at the sight of you falling apart. He gives you exactly what you need and cracks his hips faster, harder, rougher, while keeping firm pressure on your clit. It has your muscles tightening, that feeling of sweet release just within reach. His movements become sloppy, unable to keep away his own orgasm for much longer. But you’re too close to cumming to notice or care. “Cum for me, Princess. I…I need you to cum with me.” His words are all you need to come crashing over the edge. Your orgasm rocks you to your core, the entire time chanting his name like he’s your own personal God. Your inner walls pulse around every throbbing inch of his cock, coaxing him to reach his own peak.

His back contorts and green flashes down his arms and legs as he cums, filling you with it as he screams, sounding more monster than man. Was he about to…turn?

You don’t have time to react, because as quickly as it started, Bruce collapses on top of you. You’re honestly too stunned to react but the sound of a whimper breaks you from it. “Bruce?” Your arms come around him so you can stroke his back and hair. “Are you alright?” 

It takes him a few minutes of heavy breathing before he’s able to lift his head.” I-I’m okay. Could we just…lay here for a little while?” He sounds exhausted and lost. It tugs at your heartstrings. “Of course, for as long as you need,” you whisper, allowing your fingers to delicately trace over the lines of his back. For a long while, you lay together with his cock still nestled inside you. Not that you mind, it feels right being close to him. When he’s ready, Bruce slowly props himself up and slips out of you before looking you in the eye. He sheepishly thanks you, looking rather flustered. “I’m uh…sorry if I scared you earlier…you just felt so good and he…” Bruce trails off, clearly too embarrassed to continue, so you sit up and cup his cheek so he looks at you. “You have nothing to apologize for. You made me cum so hard. I’d let you fuck me over and over again if you wanted to.” He visibly perks up at that and can’t stop the boyish grin from spreading across his features. You grin back. “I guess I made him feel good too…if he was fighting to break out.” He takes a calming breath and runs a hand through his hair. “He uh…still does.”

“Really??” You sound shocked but intrigued. “Do you…uh want to let him out? I wouldn’t mind meeting him.” Bruce hesitates, not knowing if letting Hulk out is a good idea, but then he looks back at you. His eyes roam over your beautiful naked body that is now sitting back against the headboard. 

An image of you relaxing in his bed every morning from now until the end of time flashes through his mind. But it isn’t just his fantasy…it’s Hulk’s. “Well…he does think you’re pretty.” “Really? He told you that?” You blush, biting your bottom lip, and Bruce can’t help but chuckle at how adorable you look. “It’s more like a feeling, but yes, in a way.” You nod in understanding and wait for his final say on the matter. “Okay, you and Hulk can meet,” he agrees, and you happily squeal. “I’ll see you in the morning?” “In the morning,” you repeat, and Bruce leans in to give you another kiss before standing. He makes his way over to his dresser and pulls out a clean pair of boxers that are enhanced to stretch to Hulk’s size. “Now, if anything goes wrong, don’t hesitate to use my phone and call Tony,” he says over his shoulder while slipping the boxers on. “Call Tony, got it! But everything will be fine,” you reassure as you reach over the side of the bed to grab your underwear, and Bruce’s discarded shirt and put them on. When you look back at him, he’s facing away from you with his back rounded. He groans as loudly as he did when he came but is undoubtedly pained. Green muscles ripple out from his spine, up his neck, and down his limbs. You watch amazed as he doubles in size right before your eyes. He sways for a moment before gaining his footing and turning around to face you. Your breath catches in your throat at the realization that the famous Hulk is standing in front of you. “H-Hi there. I’m–”

“HULK KNOWS.” His deep booming voice cuts you off. “You do?” Hulk nods. “YOU’RE PRETTY LADY.”  The pet name makes you giggle and move closer to him but still remain perched on the edge of the bed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Your eyes roam over him, wondering what being held in his arms would feel like. “Is…Is this where you sleep too? Or do you have your own room?” You use the questions as a way to distract your mind from thinking about his touch. He scrunches his green nose up in distaste, “BANNER’S MATTRESS TOO LUMPY. HULK HAS BIGGER BED.” He points down the hall to where the home’s second bedroom is. “PRETTY LADY WANT TO SEE HULK’S ROOM?”

“I would love that.” You smile and he holds out his hand for you to take. You do so, and with more gentleness than should have been capable of someone his size, he helps you out of bed and leads you to his room. However, the entire way, your eyes stayed glued on Hulk–memorizing and taking in the parts of him that were still innately Bruce. With your tiny hand in his massive one, he steps inside his bedroom, no longer needing to crouch down because the ceiling is higher now. The walls are covered with photos and newspaper clippings of the Avengers and their families. You smile, it’s endearing to see that he has a soft side. Hulk flops down on the extra-large mattress with a smirk, stealing your attention away from the photographs. “HULK’S ROOM BETTER. BED SOFTER AND BETTER FOR SNUGGLES.” He pats the spot next to him on the bed, silently inviting you over.  You raise a brow in his direction.

You couldn’t believe it…he was flirting with you. Boldly flirting with you at that! As if he already knew he had you right where he wanted… Those green eyes look at you like the alpha of a pack, ready to lay beside his mate. Maybe Hulk wasn’t just Bruce’s rage personified but also his self-confidence with the opposite sex. Not having an answer, you decide to climb up and join him on the bed. If he wants to be a flirt, then so would you. You lay down beside him so you can rest your head on his rather huge bicep. “Mmhm, you’re right…much more comfortable.” You smirk up at him. Seeing the smug look on your face has him laughing, his frame rumbles with it. “PRETTY LADY LIKE HULK’S ARMS BETTER! BANNER WILL BE JEALOUS.”

You shake your head at his silliness. “I love both of your arms,” you lightly scold until you yawn without warning. “Shoot, sorry about that. I guess I’m more tired than I realized.”

Hulk shakes his head at your apology and lightly pats your head. “NO SORRY. PRETTY LADY SLEEP NOW.”

You nod, suddenly finding it difficult to stay awake. He pulls you in, letting you fully nestle against him.

“BANNER SAYS PRETTY LADY LIKES HAIR PLAYED WITH.”

At first, his words confuse you, but then you remember one late-night phone conversation when you told Bruce that having your hair played with always puts you right to sleep.

You smile at the memory, confirming Hulk’s words, and his fingers find their way into your hair. He gently strokes and pets, leaving you nearly purring.

Hulk chuckles under his breath but doesn’t stop the movement of his fingers. “PRETTY LADY SOUNDS LIKE KITTEN.”

“I guess that makes me Hulk’s kitten,” you mumble, trying to stifle another yawn.

“HULK’S KITTEN,” he repeats softly in agreement. “CLOSE YOUR EYES, KITTEN. HULK KEEP YOU SAFE FOR BANNER.”

Your half-lidded eyes finally fall shut.

It only takes another moment and you’re asleep.

Hulk watches you, not wanting sleep to overtake him, but it isn’t easy when he feels so relaxed with you in his arms. Eventually, exhaustion seeps in, winning him over. But just before he fully subcomes to sleep, both Hulk and Bruce share the same thought.

This would be the start of something new.