#again i'm insanely sorry for replying to that so late

[lovelyjuju]

About the soft thoughts (if you’re still wanting some huhuhu) maki has been absolutely bias wrecking me lately…

I have his Weverse dms and he seems like the type who doesn’t like texting but could always send his s/o good morning/night texts and random updates and selfies throughout the day, no?

Ah and eventhough we’ve all seen his rizz in action lmao i get the feeling that he’d get genuinely flustered/shy if someone hit on him sincerely. Like, maybe he could handle teasing and what not, but if someone were to earnestly tell him how much he means to them, how much they admire him etc, he’d get suuuper blushy hahaha

ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT THOSE DIMPLES?? GAHHH I NEED TO KISS AND POKE THE LIVING DAY LIGHTS OUT OF THEM RNNNN he’s so- gahhhhhh

since i let this thought rot in my inbox for way too long (apologies for that btw it's been like a MONTH), you can read my replies to other takes concerning him texting/calling if you click on the maki soft thoughts tag!

concerning the flirting YES! i also feel like it'd be hard to actually flirt with you. not that he doesn't find the words to tell you how much he adores or admires you, but! i feel like he'd get so shy if he were to genuinely flirt with you.

same goes the other way around. he'd casually "flirt" back if you were to use corny pickup lines jokingly, but whenever you sit down to really compliment him or tell him how much he means to you, he'd get flustered:(

[fatecantstopme]

Lustful Agony

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x plus size!reader

Summary: It's sex pollen, aka my favorite trope.

Warnings: cursing, use of pet names, an insane amount of smut, dubcon (cuz sex pollen), unprotected sex (p in v), oral (F receiving), masturbation (F).

"Would you please be careful?" you snapped.

Your partner froze and offered you a sheepish smile. "Sorry, doc. I wasn't paying attention."

"I noticed," you huffed. "There are any number of things in here that could kill us, so tread lightly."

"Maybe I should wait here."

You glanced in his direction and nodded. "You know what? Good idea. Stay there and don't touch anything."

You continued on through the dusty lab, hoping to find at least one working computer, but after 20 minutes, it seemed hopeless. Every computer had been destroyed and most of the paper files had been shredded or burned. All that remained was hundreds of glass vials filled with various liquids and gases that did gods-only-knew what.

"I'm starting to think this might be a burn and run," you called back to Bucky--still standing where you'd left him on the other side of the lab.

"If we blow this place, is there gonna be a toxic cloud?"

You shot an annoyed look in his direction. "I said 'burn', James, not 'blow'. We're not blowing up a lab filled with unknown chemicals and biological agents."

"Right, yeah." He looked at the ground, feeling slightly embarrassed. He always seemed to make a fool of himself in front of you and he hated it. He never wanted to be the fool, especially around you.

Your well-trained eyes scanned the room again before falling on a secured biological containment chamber. You knew that would be the best option for storing items for burning. All you'd need to do was get all the bio vials into the chamber and light it up.

You crossed the room to the chamber, feeling Bucky's eyes following you. He hated being in a position where he felt like he couldn't protect you, but he was out of his element here. As the resident hazardous materials expert, this was your area of brilliance.

You grumbled in annoyance when you noticed the lock on the containment chamber was activated. You were familiar with this particular model, and if you were lucky, these Hydra assholes hadn't been smart enough to bother changing the code. You input the pin, silently crossing your fingers, a smile spreading across your face when you heard the distinct sound of the mechanism unlocking.

You lifted the hood slowly, hoping to find the chamber empty. You had a momentary thought that you and Bucky should be wearing appropriate PPE, but the thought occurred to you too late.

A sound of surprise escaped your lips as a puff of sweet-smelling pink dust blew into your face from inside the cabinet. The tactical suit and gloves you were wearing did nothing to protect your respiratory system from the unknown substance.

The dust seemed to dissolve almost instantly, fading into nothingness before you could even alert Bucky to the hazard. He, of course, had heard your surprised gasp, thanks to his super soldier hearing.

"Doc? Everything okay?" he called worriedly.

"Not sure," you replied. "I, uh, I got hit in the face with some pink dust...and I'm willing to bet it's not fairy dust."

Bucky's blood ran cold. "Pink dust?"

"Yeah, smelled like some kind of super sweet candy--or those sugary wine coolers I drank in college."

Any color that remained in Bucky's face quickly drained. "Look at me."

His tone was so firm, it frightened you. Bucky normally joked around with you, but you could hear the fear in his voice and it scared you more than anything else.

You turned to face him and his expression confirmed your fears. "Do you know what it is?"

Bucky nodded. "I think so, but we won't know for sure for at least 30 minutes, possibly longer."

"Am I going to die?" your voice was so soft--so small--that even he almost didn't hear it.

"Not if I can help it."

When your eyes met his piercing blue orbs, he could see the terror reflected in them. He wanted to go to you, help you, but he knew he couldn't--not if you still had even the slightest trace of the dust on you.

"You need to rinse off before we get out of here," Bucky said calmly. "If it's what I think it is, then I can't get that stuff anywhere near me."

"Why? What'll happen?"

Bucky's gaze didn't quite meet yours. "I will tear you apart and not even realize it."

His words cut you like a knife. You knew deep in your soul Bucky would never hurt you, but if this substance could turn him into a wild animal, you wondered what the hell it was going to do to you.

You'd spotted a decontamination area when you'd first entered the lab, so you slowly made your way there, careful to avoid getting anywhere near Bucky.

Bucky radioed in to Sam to give him an update on the situation. You heard him describing what had happened and asking for another team to be sent in to destroy the facility.

You stood under the spray of the shower head and let the water pummel your skin. The pressure was almost painful, but you knew it was necessary to ensure the substance was no longer on your skin. You'd inhaled it, so you were screwed, but there was no reason for Bucky to be too.

After several minutes, you felt comfortable saying you were clean. You just wanted to get the hell out of this lab and back home.

You voiced as much to Bucky, but he shook his head slowly. "You're not gonna make it all the way home, (Y/N)."

You didn't like Bucky's use of your first name in this context...he always called you 'doc', and the change made you feel like death was around the corner.

Your face must have given away your fear because he continued. "I just mean you won't make it home before the symptoms start. Once they do, you won't want to be around anyone."

"So what do we do?"

"Safe house. It's our only option."

You groaned inwardly. You had zero desire to stay in that drafty little cabin another night, but you trusted Bucky's instincts, so you simply nodded.

Bucky was quick to usher you back to the quinjet, filling you in on his conversation with Sam. "He'll send in another team in full Level A hazmat gear. They'll take care of the place."

"Okay."

"You alright, doc? How you feelin'?"

"I feel fine so far. Just moderately terrified."

"Don't be. You're gonna be fine."

You wanted to believe him--really you did--but there was something in his voice that made you question if he even believed it.

By the time the jet touched down by the cabin, 25 minutes had passed since the moment of infection. Bucky still hadn't told you what you were dealing with and it was driving you insane.

You followed Bucky into the cabin and watched him drop his bag on the floor. He turned to look at you, eyes clearly sizing you up, checking to see if you were okay.

"Just tell me," you whispered--somewhere between a plea and a demand.

He sighed deeply. "How do you feel?"

You closed your eyes and took mental stock of your body, seeking anything out of the ordinary. "I feel hot, but that could just be the anxiety."

"How hot?"

"I don't know, like feverish, I guess."

Bucky groaned and the sound sent a wave of need through your body--a need that shocked you to your very core. This was absolutely not the time for your stupid crush to rear its head.

"Please don't hit me, okay? I'm just gonna touch your hand."

"Why would I hit you?" you asked a second before his flesh hand met yours. The feeling was pleasant and it warmed you from the inside out, until he removed his hand. You inhaled sharply as an intense pain you couldn't describe shot through you.

Bucky jerked his hand away, his worst fears confirmed. "I know what it is."

"Please," you whimpered.

"It's a biological agent Hydra developed when their attempts to make a useable super soldier serum failed. It was designed to induce a euphoric sexual state that would result in agony and possible death if penetrative sex was not performed and an orgasm was not achieved."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Hydra believed they could create super soldiers the old fashion way--by breeding them. Sprinkle some of the magic dust on a super soldier and he'd fuck his way through a room full of women without a single care for their well-being. They called it 'sex pollen'."

Your breathing was labored as pain began to spread through your body. You tried desperately to ignore it and focus on Bucky's words. "What happened?"

Bucky couldn't look at you as he responded softly, "None of the women survived the mating process."

You realized now what he'd meant back at the lab. You didn't really want to know, but you found yourself asking the question anyway, "Did they do it to you?"

Bucky closed his eyes, desperately trying to push the dark memories back down. "Yeah. They did."

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

Bucky shook his head, banishing the memories. "It doesn't matter. What matters now is how we handle this."

"If the sex pollen had that kind of effect on a super soldier, what's it gonna do to me?"

"I imagine it's going to be significantly worse for you if you don't...umm--if you don't reach climax."

"So I have to orgasm? Seriously?"

"I wish it were that simple."

Before you could respond, you doubled over in pain, an agonized groan escaping your parted lips.

Bucky rushed to you without thinking and laid his hands on your arms. You let out a pained whine and he pulled away, suddenly remembering what was happening.

"It feels like my skin is on fire," you cried.

"I know, doll. I know."

It was killing Bucky not to be able to help you. He was your protector in every situation, but he couldn't protect you from this. He knew exactly what kind of hell you were in for and it nearly broke him.

The waves of pain subsided and you were able to pull yourself upright. "Well this is fun," you mumbled.

"It's gonna get worse, (Y/N). Much, much worse."

"That's comforting, Buck. Thank you."

He gave you a sad look. "You can't do this alone."

"What do you mean?"

"The pollen was designed to force the creation of life...the only way to alleviate the pain is to give the pollen what it wants."

Your brain had become too muddled to understand what he was saying. "Plain English, Buck. Please."

"You, uh, you have to have sex."

"So you're saying I can't just masturbate this away?"

Bucky shook his head. "You have to have sex and your partner has to umm--ejaculate inside you."

Another wave of pain raked its claws through your skin, but you managed to stay upright this time. "What happens if I don't?"

You saw the look of sadness on Bucky's face and you knew you wouldn't like his answer. "You'll die."

"Well, fuck." You winced, reaching out to grab the back of the couch for stability. The pain was only increasing and you knew it was a matter of time before you couldn't take it any longer. "How sure are you that I'll die?"

"I mean, I don't know any regular humans that survived contact with the pollen. They were used as test subjects during its creation."

"I swear, Hydra gets more disgusting every time I learn something new."

Bucky was dying to help you. Seeing you in pain was agonizing for him and he knew his pain paled in comparison to yours. He would do anything for you--all you need do was ask.

"I'm gonna try waiting it out," you said firmly.

"What?" Bucky said, shock evident in his tone.

"I'm sure as hell not gonna force you to fuck me, Bucky. So I'm gonna wait it out."

"(Y/N), you're not forcing me to do anything. I'm offering to help. I don't want you to die."

You shook your head. "I'd rather die than force you into this."

"I'm offering--"

"Don't," you snapped. "No matter what you say, I'm going to feel like I'm forcing you to do something and I can't deal with that. So please, let me try to handle this alone."

Bucky knew for a fact he could overpower you with ease, especially when you were in such a state. He could make the pain stop and you would be glad for it in the moment. But he couldn't do it. He would never ever hurt you like that, even if it meant watching you die. It just wasn't something he was capable of.

"Okay, doll."

You could tell he didn't want to agree, but you were glad he wasn't arguing. All you wanted to do was tear your clothes off and try to find some sort of relief. The fire burning under your skin was intensifying by the second.

"I'm gonna take a cold shower and lock myself in the bedroom. Please stay out here."

Bucky simply nodded. He wanted to sit on this couch and listen to the sounds of your pain about as much as he wanted to get shot in the face. But he respected you too much to ignore your wishes.

You dragged yourself into the bathroom and stripped down to nothing before climbing into the cold shower. The frigid water seemed to help at first, but you discovered the effects were short-lived.

You leaned your head against the cold tile and let out a pained sob. You wanted the pain to stop so badly, but you didn't want to involve Bucky. You couldn't. Bucky was your closest friend and partner. His was the relationship you valued most in life and you wouldn't risk it for anything. It didn't matter you were in love with him. It didn't matter you'd wanted him from the moment you'd laid eyes on him. What mattered is you knew he didn't feel the same.

Bucky had a new girl in his bed several times a week. You were pretty sure you'd never seen the same girl twice in the three years you'd known him. Each one was a tall, blonde, model-thin, gorgeous woman. You didn't check a single one of those boxes. You didn't think Bucky was shallow, he just had a type. He was one of the hottest men you'd ever seen, so it only made sense for him to be with the hottest women.

You didn't think you were ugly, by any means. You just weren't his type. You were shorter, very curvy, girl-next-door average. You'd accepted it long ago and vowed to never tell him how you felt for fear of jeopardizing your friendship. Your current situation was as close as you could get to your biggest fear and you weren't willing to risk it. You loved him too much to lose him entirely. Even if he insisted he was willing to help, you knew he would come to regret it. Things would be awkward between you and eventually your friendship would come to an end.

"Not worth the risk," you muttered to yourself.

The cooling effects of the shower had long since worn off, so you turned off the water and grabbed a towel. As you wrapped it around your body, you found it was too small to cover everything and the scratchy material was painful against your overly sensitive skin.

You dropped the towel to the ground and opened the door a crack. "Bucky?"

"Yeah, doll?"

"Um, the towel hurts my skin, so um...please don't look while I walk to the bedroom."

Bucky inhaled deeply, calming himself. Sure, he wasn't impacted by the pollen, but the fact that your naked body was a few feet away from him certainly did.

"I'll close my eyes."

You tentatively opened the door and peeked out. You could see Bucky sitting on the couch, eyes closed as promised. You quickly rushed from the bathroom to the open bedroom door, shutting it behind you. In your haste to get out of sight, you neglected to lock the door.

You nearly collapsed onto the bed, the need to feel some relief the only thing on your mind. Normally, you would have been embarrassed to even consider touching yourself when Bucky was so close by, but this was an extreme circumstance. You mentally told yourself you needed to be quiet at the very least, given his excellent hearing.

You tried to get as comfortable as you could, but it was impossible. The only parts of your body that didn't ache were the ones you were actively touching. You slipped your dominant hand between your legs and felt another wave of embarrassment hit when you felt just how wet you were.

The moment your fingers brushed between your folds, you let out a loud moan. You slapped your hand across your mouth and hoped Bucky mistook the sound for one of pain.

Bucky was breathing heavily as he sat on the couch less than 10 feet from the bedroom door. He could hear every tiny little sound you made, even as you desperately tried to stay quiet.

He knew he shouldn't be turned on by those sounds--not when you were experiencing something so awful--but he couldn't help it. He'd dreamed of hearing you moan for him a hundred times before. It took all his will-power to not bust down that door and give you what you needed.

You let out a particularly obscene moan and Bucky had to stifle his own. His cock strained against his pants and he hated himself for being turned on. He tried to tell himself it wasn't his fault--he'd wanted you for years--but he couldn't shake the feeling of shame.

Ten minutes went by and the sounds coming from the bedroom continued. Bucky gripped the back of the couch with all his strength, determined to not give himself even a modicum of pleasure from this.

Another five minutes passed and he heard you let out a pained sob. His heart skipped a beat and he listened closely for any more noise. He heard the distinct sounds of you crying and his resolve broke. He immediately went to your door and knocked.

"Doll? You okay?"

"It hurts so much," you whimpered.

He leaned his forehead against the door. "I know, sweetheart. Please let me help you. Please."

He could hear you writhing around on the bed, whimpers of pain reaching his ears and making him tear up.

"I can't--it didn't work," you cried. "I'm so hot--it hurts."

"Please, baby," Bucky begged. He placed his hand on the doorknob, dying to turn it and get to you.

"Bucky," you whimpered.

The pain in that one simple word made his decision for him. He turned the knob and was surprised to find the door unlocked. He opened the door a crack, but kept his eyes away from the bed.

"Let me help you," he pleaded again.

Your eyes roamed his gorgeous figure and you let out a choked sob. Nothing else mattered in that moment--all you could think about was him.

"Make it stop," you begged him.

Bucky's eyes snapped open, meeting yours in a desperately hungry look. He didn't say a word, didn't even allow his brain to process the deeper meaning of what he was about to do. You'd asked him to help you--to stop the pain--so that was exactly what he was going to do.

He stripped out of his tactical suit as fast as possible, leaving himself in his boxer briefs, cock straining to be set free.

You reached out a hand to him and he went to you without a thought. He climbed onto the bed, hovering over you as his eyes scanned your face.

"Are you sure about this, doll?" he asked softly.

"I need you," you whimpered back.

Those three little words shattered the sliver of resolve he'd had left. His lips met yours in a hungry, devouring kiss--all teeth and tongue. His hands latched onto your soft curves, touching every inch of skin he could reach.

Everywhere he touched felt like ice against your burning skin. The sensation both incredible and painful all at once. Whatever bit of shyness or insecurity you had was wiped away by the sheer intensity of it all.

Bucky's lips attacked your neck, your jaw, your collarbone--nipping and sucking bruising marks into your skin. While it felt good, it wasn't nearly enough.

"Need more."

Bucky nudged his knee between your legs to spread them wider for him. "I know, baby. I know."

He quickly descended down to your aching core, blowing hot air against it in a teasing manner. You whined and scratched at his scalp, reminding him this was not the time for teasing.

He flicked his tongue between your pussy lips, seeking out your clit immediately. The second his tongue brushed against it, you cried out in pleasure--the first real feeling of relief you'd had since you'd been infected.

Bucky smiled to himself as he settled in to properly feast on your pussy, reveling in the essence of you against his tongue, invading all of his senses.

You gripped his hair in one hand and the sheet in the other, gyrating wildly as Bucky ate you with abandon. The pleasure was blinding, but you could still feel the undercurrent of raging fire flowing through your veins.

Bucky seemed to instinctively know exactly what you enjoyed, following your body like he had a roadmap to your pleasure points. He sent you over the edge with ease three times before finally coming up for air.

You reached for him, still hungry for more. "Bucky."

"I'm here, baby." He kissed you deeply, hands gripping your hips tightly. He wanted to take his time with you, but he knew he couldn't--you needed more from him and you needed it now.

He was quick to discard his underwear before lining himself up with your entrance. His cock nudged against your aching hole and you both moaned.

"Please, please, please, please..." you begged.

Bucky knew what you needed and he wasted no time sheathing himself inside of you. You cried out in pain as his cock stretched you more than you'd ever experienced before. The pain quickly subsided into pleasure and the pollen seemed to sense its purpose was near.

You felt a surge of need and you begged him to fuck you. "I need it, please, Bucky."

"I've got you, sweetheart." He began to thrust gently, trying his best not to hurt you. The sensations began to overwhelm him as much as they were overwhelming you, prompting him to move faster--losing himself in the feeling of you.

"Fuck, baby. You take my cock so well."

Your pussy fluttered in response, a soft whine escaping your lips.

"Best pussy I've ever had. So tight and wet for me. Made for me, weren't you?"

You nodded rapidly, not really registering what he was saying.

"How many times you think I can make you cum, baby? Six? Seven? Think the pollen can get you there?"

Your eyes widened at his words. Unsure if that was possible even with pollen.

Bucky grinned down at you. "I think I can get seven. Bet this pussy will give me whatever I want, won't she? Gonna make my girl scream my name all night long."

You felt the coil in your belly snap as another orgasm rushed through you. You clung to Bucky, a string of profanity spilling past your lips.

Bucky didn't let you come down from it before pushing your body towards another orgasm. He wanted to feel you gripping his cock like this as long as possible--especially since he might never feel it again.

"Baby, you feel so good," he murmured, placing soft kisses to your face. "Love the way you're squeezing me."

"Feels so good, Bucky," you moaned.

"Fuck, been wanting to hear you say that for so long. Needed to be inside this tight little pussy so badly. It's better than I ever imagined."

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wanted to ask what he meant--if he'd really imagined it, but you were too far gone to articulate a coherent thought.

As another orgasm crashed into you, you momentarily wondered if it was possible to die from overwhelming pleasure. You'd been in so much pain for so long and the sudden change to blinding pleasure was incredible. It was unlike anything you'd ever experienced.

"How many more can you give me, sweetheart?"

"Wanfeelcum," you mumbled incoherently.

"What was that, baby? Too fucked out to speak?"

"Wanna feel you cum, Bucky," you begged.

He was already so close to the edge he nearly lost control at the sound of your voice. But if he was being honest with himself, he didn't want this to end. He was scared if he came, if he gave you what you needed, then you'd be satiated and it would all be over.

"Need to feel you cum on my cock at least one more time, baby."

You whimpered, but nodded your consent.

Bucky picked up the pace, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. You weren't sure whether it was the pollen or his skill, but you went flying over the edge of blinding pleasure with an intensity you'd never experienced. You screamed his name as the waves crashed over you, pussy gushing juices as you squirted all over his cock and abdomen.

"Fuck yeah, baby. So fucking sexy..." he murmured. "Gonna fill you up. Give you what you want."

"Want your cum," you begged.

"That's right, pretty girl. Gonna give you my cum. Fill up this sweet pussy till you're stuffed."

"Yes, Bucky! Please!"

Bucky's hips stuttered as he came, filling your pussy with ropes of warm cum. Bucky kept thrusting slowly as he whispered your name into your skin over and over like a prayer.

Slowly, the haze created by the sex pollen began to fade, leaving you completely blissed out. Awareness of what you'd done began to creep in, but the feel of Bucky's weight on top of you kept you in the moment.

He finally slowed to a halt, but his lips were still pressing into your hot skin. After several more moments, he raised himself up just enough to kiss you sweetly, making sure you felt his adoration.

The moment he rolled off you, the full weight of what you'd done hit you like a ton of bricks. If your body would have cooperated, you would have turned over onto your side, curled up in a ball, and cried.

Bucky felt the sudden shift in your demeanor and he felt his heart clench in his chest. "(Y/N/N)..."

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

Surprise lit up his face. "What?"

"I shouldn't have done that--I'm so sorry."

"I'm gonna stop you right there." He sat up a little so he could look down at your face. You wouldn't meet his gaze, but he continued anyway. "Don't you dare think for a single second that I did something I didn't want to do. You were in pain and I couldn't let that stand. I would do anything for you, (Y/N). Anything. I don't regret it and I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

Your eyes finally raised to meet his and you saw nothing but honesty in his gaze. You knew he cared about you, but you were still worried you'd crossed a line neither of you could come back from.

Bucky stared at your face, taking in just how incredibly beautiful you were. He was trying to commit it to memory--never wanting to forget any bit of it.

"Thank you," you whispered.

Bucky shook his head. "You don't have to thank me, doll. Like I said, I wanted to." He paused for a moment, a silent war raging inside of him. He seemed to make a decision and once he did, the words just flowed from his mouth. "I mean it, (Y/N). I've wanted to for years--wanted you for years. I never wanted it to happen like this, but fuck baby...here we are. I would do anything you asked of me, okay? I'll rip my own heart out and light it on fire if you ask me to. So if you ask me to pretend this never happened, I will, but I need you to know I don't want to. I want to make love to you over and over again, hear you scream my name, watch your beautiful face as you fall apart for me...I want you. I will always want you."

You were completely breathless by the time he stopped talking. The words coming out of his mouth weren't what you'd ever expected to hear. "You want me?"

"I've always wanted you. Every part of you. Inside and out."

"What about all the other women?"

"What?"

"The ones you bring home all the time."

He touched your face gently, turning your head to look at him directly. "They're fine for a night, but they're not you. They were a poor substitute for the woman I really wanted, but couldn't have."

"Bucky..."

He looked a little crestfallen, mistaking your tone for rejection. "It's okay if you don't feel the same--"

Your hand gently pressed against his lips, shutting him up instantly. "If I could move properly, I would have kissed you to shut you up."

His eyes lit up and a small smile played on his lips.

"Of course I feel the same. Of course I want you. I only pushed you away tonight because I didn't want to lose you. I was afraid you would regret it."

He leaned down so he was inches away from your lips. "Oh sweetheart, I could never regret anything to do with you."

Your lips curled up in a sweet smile. "Really?"

"Mhmm."

"Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"Any chance we can make love? I wanna be in the moment...really in it."

"Right now?" he asked in surprise.

You nodded.

His lips met yours in a loving kiss. "I'm more than happy to oblige."

You grinned as he rolled back on top of you, lips pressing against yours hungrily.

"I'll make love to you as many times as you want. Whatever you want, I'll give you. Just ask."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

You smirked slowly. "Then I might have some ideas..."

"Oh really?"

"Oh yes." You pulled his face down to yours to whisper some of your inner desires into his ear.

"My god," he murmured. "You're gonna be the death of me."

You laughed lightly and he joined in before pulling you in for a passionate kiss, dead-set on giving you everything you wanted and more.

[killerplink]

LATE

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Female Reader

Words: 4,8k

Plot: After a long night of patrol, Nightwing comes home, too tired for anything, but he's never too tired for you.

CW: 18+, smut, established relationship, praise, lazy sex, creampie

Dick's body aches by the time he gets home, his muscles tight from a long night of patrolling and fighting. Blood, grime, and sweat cling to his skin, and all he can think about is getting clean and sinking into bed beside you. 

His steps falter as he walks into the bedroom and his eyes rake over you—the way his favorite black lace set hugs your curves, your thighs pressing together as you shift in your sleep. You're lying on your stomach, the soft, delicate fabric of your thong perfectly framing the curve of your ass. 

The straps rest high on your hips, leaving just enough of your skin bare to make his dick twitch against the towel. God, he loves how that little number hugs your body. Even after all these years, you can ruin him with so much as an innocent stretch.

But this? There's nothing innocent about the way you're laid out like a gift for him.

He runs a hand through his damp hair, trying to focus on not waking you, but the ache in his body shifts downward. He should have been exhausted after the long patrol, but right now, the only thing he wants is you. 

Dick crawls onto the bed, careful not to wake you fully, and presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, then another to your back. His arm circles around your waist as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the familiar scent of your skin as he presses himself against your warm, soft body. 

"Hi, doll," he murmurs as his lips continue to brush tender kisses along your shoulder.

Your sleepy hum vibrates against him, and you stir in his hold. "Baby..." you whisper, the sound almost a whimper as you instinctively press back against him. 

Your ass grinds lazily against his cock, which is hard and heavy beneath the towel, and his breath catches in his throat.

"Yeah, sweet girl?" he asks, his voice strained. 

His hand roams over your waist, slipping beneath the thin strap of your thong to squeeze the soft flesh of your hip. Dick can't stop himself from grinding against you for a moment, reveling in the feel of your soft curves against his aching cock. 

"Missed you," you murmur, your tone laced with sleep and heat, and he chuckles softly, his lips brushing your ear.

"I missed you too," he replies, his voice soft like velvet. 

But the smile playing on his lips quickly turns into a groan when you roll your hips again. The way you move, even half-asleep, drives him insane. Your body rolls back against his, and the lazy grind of your hips has him throbbing. His large, warm palm slides down to cup your ass before dipping between your legs.

The second his fingers brush over the damp fabric of your panties, he groans. "Fuck," he mutters, his thumb pressing against your clit through the thin lace. "Did you play with yourself before I got home, baby? You're soaked."

Your cheeks heat at the question, but you nod, murmuring sheepishly, "Mhmm, too horny... couldn't help it," you admit. 

Dick hisses as his cock throbs, pressing insistently against the thin towel. "I'm sorry I was late. Let me make it up to you, yeah?" he murmurs, his tone laced with genuine remorse, but his fingers don't let up, circling your clit with practiced precision. 

You whimper as his fingers tease your entrance, dipping inside just enough to make your hips jerk. You moan softly, pushing back against him, your body silently pleading for more.

"Need your dick, love," you plead, your voice sweet and needy, and his restraint snaps.

His breath hitches at your words, and he doesn't need to be told twice. His hand leaves your clit, and he tugs down his towel, tossing it carelessly, his dick springing free.

Your panties are soaked, the thin fabric clinging to your folds, and he swears under his breath as he slides them aside. You feel the thick weight of his cock press against your bare ass, his warm precum smearing across your skin as he moves you, positioning you against him with your back flush to his muscular chest.

But then one of your hands reaches between your bodies, trembling slightly as you grab his dick, guiding him to your entrance. The blunt head presses against your folds, the stretch burning in the most delicious way.

"God, this pussy," he thinks, jaw clenching as he slides deeper, "so warm, so fucking tight."

Your thoughts mirror his—he's perfect, thick and long, veins pressing along his length, the flushed head leaking against your slick folds, filling you in a way that always leaves you breathless. No matter how many times he fucks you, it's never enough. His dick stretches you open, inch by inch, and he bites his lip to keep from losing it right then and there.

"Fuck, baby," you moan, your walls fluttering around him as you adjust to the stretch.

"God," he groans, his voice rough as he sinks deeper into you. 

Your pussy molds around his dick, so perfect, like you were made for him, and he's always mesmerized. He's hard, hot and fucking perfect, filling you so deeply you can feel every ridge, every pulse of his cock as he bottoms out. A moan slips from your lips, soft and needy, and he presses a kiss to your neck. 

"You feel so good, baby. Always so good for me," he murmurs softly, almost sweet. 

Your body trembles, a quivering, writhing mess against him, every nerve alight with pleasure as his cock moves inside you. The way he fills you—his length dragging slowly against your sensitive walls—has your mind spiraling, the deep pressure of his thrusts making your toes curl. Your pussy grips him tightly, clenching greedily with every stroke, and the wet, obscene sounds of his cock gliding in and out of your slick heat make your cheeks flush.

Dick groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your neck where his lips linger. "Fuck, my love," he rasps, his hips rolling in a deliberate rhythm. 

His cock feels like it's made to ruin you—stretching you perfectly, the veins along his shaft brushing sensitive spots inside you as his head nudges against that sweet, devastatingly good place with every deep thrust.

"You're so tight, baby," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. 

The words send a shiver down your spine, your walls fluttering around him as you gasp his name. "Dick... oh, God," you whimper, the stretch of him almost too much, but somehow exactly what you need. 

One of his hands slips under your body to cup your tits through your lacy bra, his fingers tugging gently at your nipples, teasing them into stiff peaks, while the other grips your thigh, keeping you spread wide open for him. 

"Greedy little thing," he growls, his large hand sliding down to grab your ass, spreading your cheeks as he watches his cock disappear into your slick heat. The sight makes his dick twitch inside you, and he lets out a low, guttural groan. "Look at this pretty pussy, swallowing me up like it was made for it."

You whimper at his filthy praise, your walls fluttering around him. The angle has you gasping, sending sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine.

Every thrust feels deeper than the last, each one deliberate, calculated to drag against every sensitive spot inside you. He watches the way your arousal coats his dick, glistening in the dim light of the bedroom, and groans again, deeper this time. 

"Look at you," he mutters, his voice rough. "So wet for me. You love this, don't you, baby?"

His hips snap forward, grinding deep, and you cry out, nodding desperately. God, he's so big, stretching you open, filling you up just right—perfectly, like he was made for you. Every slow, deliberate thrust presses you tighter against him, his broad chest flush against your back, muscles taut and burning with restraint. He's warm, solid, every inch of him hard in the way that drives you insane, from the thick curve of his cock to the powerful arms wrapped around you, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

And of course, you can't get enough. How could you? He's everything—tall, strong, built—his body a masterpiece of discipline and power, honed from years of pushing himself to his absolute limits.

And yet, here he is, using all that strength for you, to fuck you slow and deep, to keep you right where he needs you, to stretch your needy little pussy around his dick like it's the only thing that matters.

And it is, at least to him.

He groans, burying his face in your neck, voice thick and wrecked as he watches the way you take him, the way your body clings to him, sucking him in deeper every time he moves. He can feel how much you love it—how wet you are, how your slick coats his cock, dripping down to make a mess of his thighs. Fuck, you're perfect. And his. Completely, utterly his.

His fingers trail down, slipping between your legs, rubbing slow, teasing circles over your swollen clit. You shudder, gasping as pleasure sparks down your spine, and he smirks against your skin.

"You feel that, sweetheart?" he rasps, nipping at your ear. "The way you're squeezing me? So greedy, baby."

And you are. Desperate for him, desperate to take every inch, to keep him buried deep inside you, to let him fuck you until you're ruined, until you can't think of anything but him. And God, he's going to give it to you. All of it.

He smirks against your shoulder, his teeth grazing your skin as his hips start to pick up speed, just a little. The drag of his length turns into long, deep strokes, pulling almost all the way out before sinking back in with a steady, deliberate force. Each thrust sends a wave of heat rushing through your body, your cunt tightening around him as your moans grow louder.

The soaked lace of your panties, shoved to the side, clings to your skin and drags along his cock with every thrust, maddeningly slow and deliberate. The damp fabric, sticky with your slick, adds a friction so filthy it makes his head spin. Each movement sends a sharp jolt through him, the wet lace teasing his length as if designed to drive him insane.

It's intoxicating, the mess between you only making him lose himself more, and the thought of how soaked you are for him, how even your panties can't keep up, has him groaning, his hips slapping softly against your ass like he can't control it anymore.

"You take me so well," he praises, his voice soft but heavy with arousal. "Your pretty little pussy is so perfect for me, baby. Feels so fucking good."

And it does—he feels incredible, his cock pulsing inside you, the ridges of his shaft stroking your walls with every thrust. The way he moves is driving you crazy, his rhythm deep and unhurried, but perfectly in control, designed to keep you on the edge.

You're a vision of wrecked beauty, your body pliant and trembling against him, your moans like music to his ears. Your pussy squeezes him so tightly, sucking him in, slick and warm, the perfect fit. He's losing himself in the feel of you, the way your body responds to him, the soft, desperate sounds falling from your lips.

"Shit," he growls, his voice thick with need. "So sensitive, baby. You're close, aren't you?"

You nod, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as the pleasure builds, white-hot and all-consuming. "Close—so close," you whimper, your back arching as his cock thrusts deeper, hitting that perfect spot with devastating accuracy.

He leans down, pressing his lips to your ear as he whispers, "Cum for me, doll. Let me feel you."

And when you do, your pussy clenching around him like a vice, your cries spilling into the air, it's almost too much for him to handle. Your entire body trembles, back arching as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through you, each pulse of your cunt around his cock drawing a ragged groan from his chest. It's intense, the way your walls flutter and tighten, gripping him so perfectly, like you're made to keep him right there, buried as deep as possible inside you.

His name spills from your lips in broken gasps, and the sound only spurs him on. His hips snap forward, grinding deeper, and you swear you can feel him everywhere—stretching you open, rubbing against every spot that makes you see stars, pulling every last ounce of pleasure from you. 

Your slick gushes out, dripping onto his cock and your thighs, the lewd, wet sounds filling the room as he keeps moving, fucking you lazily through your orgasm like he's got all the time in the world.

And he doesn't stop—won't stop—not until he's wrung every last shudder, every last moan from you. His large hand splays over your thigh, gripping tight, spreading you open wider so he can push deeper, chasing the way your pussy clenches and pulses around him. He's groaning your name, low and wrecked, his cock twitching with every squeeze of your cunt.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice full of praise as his thrusts slow slightly, but remain deep, deliberate. "So perfect, baby. Always so good for me."

Your voice is soft but so utterly desperate, trembling as you whimper, "Dick, please, baby. Pump me full."

His cock twitches inside you at your plea, the sweet, breathless way you beg for him undoing him every time. He always gives you what you want—there's never been a single time he could resist you—but the way you ask for it, the need in your tone, makes his chest tighten and his blood burn hot.

How could he ever say no to you when you're trembling, soaked, and so damn sweet for him? He doesn't even want to try.

"Fuck," he growls low in his throat, his hips rolling deeper, the thick weight of his cock pressing into every inch of your sensitive walls. "You're gonna get it. Gonna fill this pretty little pussy up, just like you want." 

You moan at his words, already desperate for the warmth of his cum. "Please, baby," you whimper. "Give it to me—want all of it." 

"That's it, doll," he rasps, his hips stuttering as he chases his own release. "Fuck—gonna fill you up, sweetheart." 

The promise alone makes you moan, your body arching against him, your overstimulated cunt clenching around him as if trying to pull him deeper, if possible. Your mind is hazy, fogged with nothing but the feeling of him stretching you so perfectly, hitting every nerve, every spot that makes you shatter. 

You're still sensitive from earlier—three orgasms on your toy hadn't been nearly enough to take the edge off, and now, the intensity of him inside you has every inch of your body alight with need. It's overwhelming, but you've learned to crave this with him: the way he pushes you, drags you past your limits, only to leave you trembling with more pleasure than you thought possible. 

His hand slides down to your swollen clit again, rubbing slow, purposeful circles as his dick drives deeper, harder. "Look at you," he murmurs, his voice rough, full of adoration. "You're so wet for me. So greedy, baby. This pussy's perfect, always takes me so well."

Your breath catches as his words send a new wave of heat rushing through you, and you feel the tension coiling tight in your belly once more. The sensitivity is almost unbearable, every drag of his dick against your tender walls sending a fresh jolt of pleasure-pain through you. 

"Dick," you gasp, your nails digging into the sheets as your thighs tremble. "Please—need it. Need your cum. Please."

"Shit," he hisses, his head dropping to press against the curve of your shoulder, teeth grazing your skin as he groans. His thrusts grow sharper, his rhythm erratic as the tight heat of your cunt pushes him closer to the edge. You're squeezing him so perfectly, your body trembling, your moans soft and needy as you beg for what he's already dying to give you. "Gonna cum, doll."

You nod frantically, your voice trembling as you whimper, "Yes, baby. Please, want it so bad."

His groan is guttural, torn from deep in his chest, as his thrusts slow but grow impossibly deeper. Each roll of his hips is deliberate, precise, his cock stretching and filling you to the brim with every inch. You can feel every throb of him, how he twitches inside you as his control finally snaps.

When he cums, it's with a sharp curse of your name, his breath hot and ragged against your ear. His dick jerks, pulsing deep inside you, and then you feel it—thick, hot ropes of his release spilling into you, flooding your needy cunt. The heat of it is almost too much, the way it fills you so completely, and it's all you can do to moan, your voice breaking as the sensation sends shockwaves of pleasure rippling through you.

Your body reacts instantly, your pussy clenching down around him, milking him for everything he has. The way he fills you, his cock still hard and nestled deep, sends you over the edge again.

Your orgasm crashes over you in dizzying waves, and you cry out, trembling as your cunt flutters and tightens around him, sucking him deeper. It's messy—so messy—his cum mixing with your slick, dripping down between your thighs as your body quivers uncontrollably.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, his voice thick and wrecked. 

His hips roll again, slow and deliberate, grinding against you, pushing his release deeper. You can feel him painting your walls, the sticky heat of his cum coating every inch of your pussy, and he doesn't stop, not until he's sure every last drop is exactly where he wants it.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his hand sliding to grip your thigh, spreading you wider so he can watch his cock disappear into your slick, messy cunt. "Taking me so fucking well, baby. You're perfect—fuck, you're perfect."

And you can't stop trembling, your body still riding out the aftershocks as his deep, deliberate thrusts drag your pleasure out. The stretch of his dick, the way it fills you and presses against every sensitive spot, leaves your mind blank and your voice hoarse from crying out his name.

Your moans soften into needy whimpers, your body limp as his hips slow, finally stilling. But even then, you can still feel him—hard and warm and buried deep, his cum seeping out around him despite how tightly your cunt clings to him.

You turn your head slightly, catching his lips in a soft, sleepy kiss, but it quickly deepens the moment his mouth moves against yours. His tongue brushes along the seam of your lips, coaxing them open, and you gasp softly as his dick shifts inside you, the sensation sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through you.

He takes advantage of the little sound, his tongue slipping into your mouth, slow and deliberate, like he's savoring every second of it. The kiss is messy, your tongues tangling together as soft moans spill from you, each one muffled by his lips. 

His hand grips your thigh tighter, pulling you closer as his hips rock just enough to make you feel him—hard, thick, and buried so deep it has you clenching around him all over again.

You whimper against his mouth, your sleepy haze making the kiss sloppier, wetter, your tongues sliding and licking against each other as you chase the taste of him. His teeth catch your bottom lip, tugging gently, and you can't help but moan, your head tilting further to give him better access.

His groan rumbles low in his chest as he swallows your sounds, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek, holding you in place as he kisses you deeper, filthier. Every movement of his tongue against yours feels electric, sending shivers through your body and making you grind back against him instinctively, desperate for more.

"Fuck, doll," he breathes against your lips, his voice low and wrecked. 

But you're already pulling him back in, kissing him like you'll fall apart without the heat of his mouth on yours. It's needy, unrestrained, and he matches you completely, his own low moans slipping free as the kiss grows impossibly hotter.

"You feel so fucking good," you whisper, your voice laced with affection.

"Yeah, baby? You feel that?" he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Feel how full you are? How messy we've made you?"

You whimper, your pussy clenching involuntarily around him as his words send another rush of heat pooling in your belly. The wet sounds of his cock sliding through the mess he's made only make it worse, and you bite your lip, trying to keep your moans in check.

"Fuck," he pants, pressing soft kisses to your neck as he holds you close. His fingers trace lazy circles on your skin, soothing you as your body trembles in the aftermath. 

You shiver, your voice soft, breathless, as you murmur, "More, baby."  

His lips twitch into a smirk against your neck, and his hand tightens on your thigh once again, spreading you wider. "Oh, you're getting more, alright," he murmurs, his voice full of promise. 

Before you can catch your breath, he shifts, flipping you onto your stomach with an ease that makes you shiver. He grips your hips, pulling you back onto his dick in one smooth motion, burying himself deep. The new angle has you crying out, the way he hits that perfect spot inside you over and over leaving you clawing at the sheets, desperate and completely at his mercy.

His thrusts grow harder, faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room as he pounds into you. Each stroke is precise, deliberate, making you feel every thick, veiny inch of him stretching you, filling you to the brim. His large hands grip your ass, spreading you wider as he watches himself disappear into your dripping, swollen cunt.

You moan into the mattress, your body trembling as waves of pleasure crash over you. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, your voice cracking with each broken cry he pulls from you. And he doesn't stop—doesn't even slow—driving into you with everything he has, determined to leave you a trembling mess.

Hours later, when your body finally goes limp, completely wrecked and satisfied, he watches you with a smug, adoring grin. His large hands smooth over your shaky thighs, fingers brushing the sticky mess that's dripping from your pussy, his cum still leaking out no matter how deep he fucked it into you.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice low and filled with pride. "So full of me, baby. You made such a mess, but you're so perfect like this." 

He lets his fingers trail lazily between your thighs, spreading you open just enough to watch his release spill out, dripping down onto the sheets. The sight alone makes his cock twitch again, still heavy and sticky from everything you've already given him.

He leans down, pressing a kiss to your collarbone before dragging his lips to yours, soft at first but growing hungrier with each passing second. His tongue slips into your mouth, tasting you, teasing you, even as his hand strokes your trembling thigh, his grip firm and grounding.

"Made it up to you, didn't I, my love?" he murmurs, his voice low and sweet. 

You hum weakly in response, and he chuckles, pulling you into his arms, his body still pressed against yours as he holds you close. His fingers lazily trace patterns over your sweat-slicked skin, and you can't help but feel utterly adored—ruined, yes, but completely his.

No matter how exhausted or bruised he might be from a night of patrol—whether it's the weight of the city's darkness or the physical toll on his body—Dick never lets it show when he's with you. He's always there, still finding the energy to smile, to laugh, to touch you with that same warmth that's been constant since the beginning. 

You can see it in the way he makes time for you, no matter how drained he might be. And it's that part of him, that unwavering commitment, that you love most. Even when the world is demanding everything from him, he still gives you all of him. 

He kisses your forehead softly, his arms tightening around you slightly. Even when the weight of the world feels like it's crushing him, the moment he's in your arms, everything fades away.

It's not just the way you soothe him with your words—it's the way you are there, a steady presence in the chaos of his life. Whether it's holding him in silence after a long night or taking the time to gently tend to the bruises he's too used to hiding, you make him feel human again.

You don't treat him like the city's hero or the man with too many scars; you treat him like someone worth caring for, someone who deserves softness. And somehow, that's exactly what he needs—what he craves, even more than the sleep that often eludes him. With you, he feels like he can breathe again.

When he finally carries you to the bathroom, the exhaustion is still there, but it feels like a quiet, shared bond between the two of you. Neither of you speaks—there's no need. The warmth of his arms around you, the steady rhythm of his breath against your temple, it all says more than words ever could.

He sits by the tub with you still clinging to him, his grip firm but gentle, like he knows you need this closeness just as much as he does. His free hand reaches for the faucet, twisting it until a stream of warm water begins to fill the tub, steam curling into the air around you.

You don't move, don't loosen your grip, and he doesn't make you. Instead, he shifts just enough to let you stay curled against his chest, one hand stroking slow, soothing circles over your back. The heat from the water seeps into the air, but all you can focus on is him—the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers trace mindless patterns against your skin, the quiet strength in his hold.

"I've got you," he murmurs, voice soft but sure, lips brushing against your temple. "Just breathe, baby."

You do. You breathe with him, feeling the last remnants of tension start to ebb away, washed out by the warmth of his touch and the rhythmic sound of the water filling the tub.

When he finally moves, it's only to make sure the temperature is just right. He tests it with his hand before turning back to you, his touch as careful as ever. "Come on, sweetheart, let's get you in."

You nod, but you still don't let go, and he doesn't ask you to. Instead, he helps you into the tub with quiet patience, keeping you close, keeping you grounded.

When the water finally surrounds you, it's like a second layer of comfort, wrapping around your tired limbs, but it's still his presence that keeps you steady.

You both have the same goal now—cleaning up, but it's so much more than that. You've made a mess, but somehow, cleaning up together feels like a perfect reflection of how you care for each other.

And when he slides in behind you, pulling you back against him, arms wrapped securely around your waist, you finally let out a soft, shaky sigh. You feel the words slip from your lips, sleepiness making your voice softer, more vulnerable.

"I love you so much," you murmur, looking up at him through heavy-lidded eyes.

You can feel his smile before you even see it, that same tenderness you know so well. With him, everything feels right, even in the aftermath of chaos. He pulls you a little closer, and his hands never stop moving—one smoothing up and down your arm, the other resting over your stomach, holding you like he's afraid to let go.

He presses a kiss to the side of your head, voice nothing more than a quiet murmur against your skin. "I love you too, baby."

The water swirls softly around you both, the quiet hum of the tub filling the space. It's intimate, it's comforting, and as he holds you, everything feels like it's been put back where it belongs. 

[pullupinarari]

lewis said smth hurtful, went out to work. reader got injured and didnt tell him thinking he's not in a mood. so she called her sister/bsf instead to send her to a clinic/hospital. she downplays her injury and still prepared dinner for lewis, not staying to eat with him tho. thinking he needs time away from her.

omg im so sorry if this is too long of a an idea for a blurb </3

a/n: this is insanely long for a "blurb" lol i'm so sorry, you know i get carried away when it comes to angst and i literally had to stop myself from continue writing this 😭 hope you enjoy!! 🩷

In the middle of all the chaos surrounding your day, after kicking off your morning with a very stressful meeting with your boss at work, you thought things couldn’t get any worse - but you were wrong, so wrong. 

During your lunch break, you met your boyfriend that was already at your place, preparing lunch for the both of you. He met you with a kind smile, but it was already too late: the agitating tension was already emanating from your body, matching the screaming headache that started growing and decided not to stop bothering you for the past couple of hours.

You’re sighing loud, stomping around the house, not even daring to meet his eyes as you don’t even have the strength inside of you to force a smile on your lips. No matter how sweet his gestures might be, you just wish you could be alone, now - enjoying your break in peace, trying to forget about all the stress that your boss caused in your mind, anger boiling in your veins every time you even think about it. 

Lewis is trying his best to stay silent, giving you space as he can feel the storm forming above your head, ready to hit at any moment now. The man gently stirs the food in the pot, grabbing a dish to serve it. 

You finally sit down, grabbing your fork to start eating, not even acknowledging your boyfriend, not looking at him, not even muttering a ‘thank you’ for his thoughtful actions. 

- Thought I would make your favorite dish, trying to light up your day a bit more. - Lewis carefully said, his voice sounding quiet yet sweet, realizing now that he had that thought in mind, while being completely unaware of your angry state.

You just hum at his words, your eyes focused on your dish as you don’t even waste a second to reply to him. Your brain feels heavy inside your head, feeling like it’s fighting an internal battle with itself, the carousel of intrusive thoughts stepping on your skin, the annoyance jumping in your bones. You just don’t have it in yourself to talk right now. 

Your boyfriend frowns, letting out a small sigh as well, picking his food. He knows that you’re not in the best of moods right now, but he hates seeing you like this and feeling like he can’t do anything about it. He just wants to comfort you, to help you in any way. 

Cleaning his throat, his courageous side decides to speak up again.

- I was thinking about leaving work a bit earlier today. Maybe we could go for a walk downtown, and watch the Christmas lights? - your boyfriend suggests again, only to be met with a furious huff erupting from your body. - No, thank you. I just want to be alone today. - your harsh words hit him like a ton of bricks, sensing his feelings shatter like they’re made of glass, each tiny piece invading his insides, cutting right through his heart. 

You didn’t mean for your words to sound so mean. But you would expect him to understand, from the first sigh that left your mouth the second that you stormed inside the house, that today it’s a ‘no’ day for you. You just wanted him to stop pushing it when you’re clearly not willing to give back to him. 

And Lewis might be understanding, but he won’t shut up and take whatever you throw at him. 

- I know you’re upset, but that is not my fault. I wasn’t the one making you angry, so I shouldn’t be the one getting all this backlash from you. - he tries to reason, his own tone sounding colder now, feeling something shifting inside of him after hearing the way you spoke to him.

An exasperated sigh escapes your lips again, your figure moving on its own as you get up from your seat at the table. 

- I’m not hungry anymore. - you state, throwing your fork into the plate, turning your back on your boyfriend as you leave the kitchen. 

He stops eating as well, rolling his eyes at your childish attitude before letting a deep breath out. 

- Call me when you decide to stop acting like a kid! - he shouts from the kitchen, grabbing his belongings and reaching for the door, slamming it behind him once he leaves. 

You heard his words, loud and clear. They made sure to enter your brain, moving by themselves while working to emphasize your rage even more, your fists closing as your nails start digging on the skin into the palm of your hand, trying to distract you from the riot happening in your mind, right now. 

Truth be told, you and Lewis have only been dating for a year and a half. Everything still feels very recent, very fresh - and your communication as a couple isn’t definitely at its finest, that’s for sure. 

You’re both adults, but you’re still learning the best ways to deal with each other, especially in situations like these. 

Lewis knew it. He knew it, from the moment he saw you walking inside the house, looking like a tornado had just hit, that you had turned into a raging storm, and he had no doubt that, sooner or later, you would wreck the environment around you. 

He is not used to seeing you act this way, though. It’s not usual for you to blow up in his face, such a rare event that this attitude of yours makes him wonder. Wondering what happened for you to lose your cool, for you to take it out on him. The thoughts keep pacing on the back of his mind while he drives, questioning if, maybe, you have been a storm all this time.

The fact that you keep thinking that you’re always right, doesn’t help. No matter how Lewis tries, it seems like you can’t accept that, sometimes, you are the one in the wrong. 

Like now. You blew up on your boyfriend without him having any fault of the way your boss ruined your entire day with a meeting. And still, here you are: stomping your feet around the house like a sulking kid, slamming doors, throwing away everything that reaches your fingers, in a thoughtless act of childishness, of unsolved problems that you hold with your own emotions. 

“What a stupid day. What a stupid meeting. What a fucking stupid fight” - you think to yourself, trying to let go of all the events that just took place during the first half of your day, gathering your belongings to go back to work. 

As you are coming downstairs, your face is buried on your phone as you text your co-worker, and your foot accidentally slipped on one of Roscoe’s squishy toys that was left forgotten on your stairs. 

Losing your balance, you fall on the stairs, your heels not helping your case as you could feel your entire foot spraining. You grab your foot, biting down your lip hard to prevent you from screaming due to the agonizing pain that seems to be travelling through your own body now.

Grabbing your phone, you decide to call your sister, telling her that you had an accident, asking her to take you to the hospital.

There’s no point in calling Lewis - he probably doesn’t even care that you just fell down the stairs, he definitely is not in the mood to deal with your whiny state, after all the bullshit that you just pulled on him. 

It’s just a sprained ankle, after all. You and your sister didn’t even have to stay in the hospital for long - and during the time that you were there, he didn’t call, he didn’t text you. He didn’t reach to talk to you, to try and see if you were feeling better, if you were finally able to talk it out.

You know you are asking for too much on his part, though. You definitely wouldn’t be ready to say a word if it wasn’t for your injury now, that made your boiling anger soften a bit more, making you reconsider everything that happened. 

But still, you don’t have the courage to reach him either. You’re not trying to run from all your emotional pain, you are just now noticing the guilt that’s possessing you. 

And it’s not just today. It’s not just your bad mood, or the way you turned your back on him today. However, it is the way your boyfriend seems to constantly get caught in the midst of your insecure winds that tend to wrap him, tagging him along with your thoughts and paranoia, breaking him down - even if he doesn’t realize it sometimes. 

You have been trying your best to carry all the weight of the things that you should’ve left in the past but that, somehow, still haunt you today. Putting on a façade, your heart always hurts the most at 3 am, when you’re alone or when Lewis is fast asleep, not even hearing your sounds. 

Trying your best to ignore the pain on your foot, you stand in the kitchen now, cooking your boyfriend’s favorite dish - mirroring the exact same gesture that he had for lunch, showing just how much acts of service is your love language.

Your heart races, anxiety running through you as you pray that he still decides to show up for dinner, hoping he can be capable of giving you a second chance today. You’re definitely not ready to go to sleep angry at him, definitely not sure if you can face another day alone, with the weight of your actions weighing heavy on your soul, even if you are just a victim of circumstances as well.

Taking a deep breath, you decide that this needs to change. You need to take accountability for each one of your storms, before it’s too late - before you lose the man who made you fall head over heels for him. You dread the thought of seeing Lewis turning your back at you as he leaves your life, praying that he doesn’t decide to leave before he gets to know you, the real you. 

A wave of relief washes over you as you hear the front door of your house open, signaling that Lewis decided, indeed, to show up again.

The man almost tiptoes his way to where you stand, next to the oven. He keeps his distance, silently watching you, as if he is trying to see through you, analyzing your mood, trying to understand if you’re still mad. 

You feel softer, with sadness just rushing inside your veins due to everything that took place today. You look at Lewis from the corner of your eye, not ready to break the deafening silence that’s surrounding both of your figures now - scared that you might fuck it up again. 

As you walk around to finish his food, Lewis raises an eyebrow when he sees you limping around the kitchen. His eyes follow your body, focusing on the bandage that’s tightly wrapped around your ankle now.

Concern takes care of his form now, making him kill the quiet bubble that you’re both in. 

- What’s wrong with your foot? - he questions, his voice sounding worried, but not as sweet as it used to, before. 

There’s still remains of bitterness throbbing in his chest from all the things that were said and done, but he would never, ever, not worry about you.

You shrug, downplaying what happened to you just a few hours ago.

- Just a sprained ankle, nothing much. Dinner is ready, it’s your favorite, I hope you enjoy it. - you can feel your voice trembling as you move to leave the kitchen, slowly walking your way to the living room, trying to lay on the sofa as you don’t have the courage to sit next to Lewis now. 

You can’t even look at his face, let alone inside his eyes - afraid of the feelings that you might find inside of his wounded heart. Your brain keeps whispering sweet lies to you, making you believe each one of them. And maybe what your mind tells you is true. Maybe Lewis needs some time away from you, maybe he doesn’t like this side of you just he is slowly uncovering, maybe he is rethinking a future by your side. 

You love him still, you always will. But you can’t do this by yourself, you don’t want to do life alone, but you just need to learn how to respect his decision, if he ends up leaving you for good. 

Lewis is still in the kitchen, his eyebrows knitted together as he tries to puzzle together everything that happened today. His main focus is still your injury - why did you hurt yourself and why didn’t you call him? Not even wanting to tell him what happened. And why the hell won’t you stay to have dinner with him, after cooking it?

Reaching for the living room, he takes a seat next to you, looking you in the eyes now, as his fingers slowly caress your cheek - forgetting about the fight, about the bad mood, about the stomping and sighing. His baby is hurt, and he just wants to take care of you, to be here for you. 

His silky touch is enough to make some small tears appear in the corner of your eyes, now. 

- What’s wrong, my love? I’m here to listen - his tone sounding like honey now, hitting you right in the core, softening immediately in front of him. 

A knot forms in your throat as you try your best not to cry. 

- I’m sorry about exploding in your face, this morning. I’m sorry about this side of me that I don’t really know how to tame. It really wasn’t your fault, I shouldn’t have- - you start rambling, wanting to say everything at the same time, afraid that you might run out of time, afraid that Lewis might not want to hear what you have to say anymore.  - I just want to say that I understand if you need some time away from me. - you finally admit after taking a deep breath, letting a tear fall free on your cheek. 

Your boyfriend has a confused expression splattered in his face, questioning what kind of chaos has been dominating your head lately. 

- Baby, breathe. And please, stop with the nonsense. What happened to your foot? - he decides to focus on what’s more important, now. - I fell down the stairs - you quietly replied. 

His eyes soften even more at your words, his hand moving to softly massage your hurt foot. You hiss at first, but after a second it helps alleviate the pain that was already reaching the rest of your leg.

Lewis smiles softly as he feels you relaxing at his touch, leaning his body to leave a kiss on your shoulder.

- And why don’t you want to have dinner with me? - he hums softly, applying more soft kisses on your arm, never stopping his massage on your injury. 

An embarrassed sigh escapes you.

- I told you. I think you might need some time away from me.

Lewis slowly shakes his head at your words.

- That’s complete nonsense, my love. I can’t even sleep an entire night without having you wrapped in my arms anymore, you really think I need time away from you? Don’t be silly - he informs you softly, a kind smile playing on his lips. - It’s completely okay and normal to lose our tempers sometimes, baby. It happens to all of us, myself included. And we are going to learn how to deal with all this in the best way we can, yeah? Together. 

You manage to let out a very shy nod at his words, not even knowing what to say to the way he makes you feel so special, loved and cared for. 

His lips finally find yours in a gentle, loving kiss, dancing intertwined for a moment - missing each other terribly. 

- I just want a future with you, my clumsy girl, not time away from you. In fact, I don’t want any kind of life without having you by my side. - he promises, honoring his word with another assuring kiss on your lips, allowing you to finally breathe in the oxygen that he provides you, feeling lighter as you finally wrap your arms around your man’s figure, never letting him go. 

[strawnarrries]

Perfume

Summary: You get a new perfume and it drives Harry insane.

Requested: Yes!

Word Count: 4.9k

Warning(s): light drinking, F/M receiving oral, unprotected sex

Never in a million years did you think such a small detail would have such a huge impact on Harry. You went shopping with a couple of your girlfriends last weekend and found a new perfume you absolutely fell in love with. You had been using the same perfume for quite a while now and figured it was time to switch it up.

After smelling multiple different scents, none of them stuck out to you until the saleswoman showed you a Tom Ford Perfume. It was perfect. It was a warm, spicy, vanilla scent with hints of sandalwood and roasted barley. It was seductive, but still managed to be sweet at the same time. It was a pretty pricey perfume but you were instantly sold after that first sniff.

You were obsessed with wearing it. You had only owned this perfume for about a week, but you had worn it every time you left the house; even if it was for something simple like making a quick grocery trip. You had not a single regret about spending so much money on perfume. Wearing the perfume made you feel confident and sexy. You got so many compliments from your peers and you could not believe how crazy it drove Harry.

It all started last week.

"Okay, baby, I'm going to meet Kate for brunch," you called to him.

You were going to meet your best friend, Kate for lunch at a cute cafe near your home. It was the first chance you had to try out your new perfume since you bought it the other day. You hadn't told Harry about it because you wanted to see if he would notice that you switched scents. You didn't get your hopes up because he is a man after all, but you were curious either way.

Harry sat on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table, watching some random show you did not recognize. He wore an old tshirt and a pair of black basketball shorts. You walked over to him and pressed your right hand to the back of the couch next to his head, hovering yourself over his body. You pressed a sweet kiss to his lips before heading towards the mud room to grab your purse and your keys.

"Where are you guys gonna eat?"

"Burgh House Cafe," you replied, voice slightly raised so he could hear you from afar.

Once you stood back up from bending down to strap on your shoes, you were startled to feel him behind you, "Oh my gosh, you scared me. I thought you were still sitting down."

"Sorry," he chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around you from behind and pulling you into his chest.

"What are you doing?" you giggled, slightly confused because you only get goodbyes like this when one of you is leaving for a long time.

"Just wanted to hug you."

He nuzzled his face into the curve of your neck and you did not miss the deep inhale he took. He squeezed you tighter and hummed against the skin of your neck. He began pressing soft kisses to your neck, jaw, and cheek.

You giggled, letting him love on you for a little bit before squirming in his grip, "I'm gonna be late."

"You smell good," he mumbled.

"Do I?" you teased.

"Mhm, did you get a new perfume?"

"I did. I got it when I went shopping with my friends last weekend," you replied, turning around in his arms to face him before he immediately wrapped himself around you again, nuzzling his nose into your neck.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Wanted to see if you'd notice."

"How can I not notice when you smell this fantastic."

"So you like it?" you grinned.

"Mhm," he hummed, face still pressed against your neck.

You let him sway you back and forth for a moment, him inhaling and exhaling deeply while pressing sensual but sweet kisses to your neck.

"Okay, baby, I gotta go now."

"Nooooo," he whined, "I want you to stay."

You giggled at his neediness, "I'll be back in a couple hours."

"Mmmm, fine."

The next incident happened just a few days ago.

It was around 8:15am and you stood in the bathroom, getting ready for work. You had brushed your teeth, gotten dressed, and were currently working on your makeup. You heard him wake up and soon a shirtless Harry walked into the bathroom with sleepy eyes and bedhead. He was adorable.

"Good morning," you smiled at him.

"Mm, good morning," he mumbled back, voice raspy and deep with sleep.

He walked behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his bare chest. You smiled lovingly as he pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek before snuggling his face into your neck.

You continued to coat on mascara, loving the warm feeling of him holding you until he suddenly groaned, "Ugh, you're wearing that perfume again."

"Is that bad?" you asked, slightly confused by his reaction because you thought he really liked it.

"Yes, because it's making it harder to let you leave. Want you to stay home and let me love on you all day."

You giggled, screwing your mascara closed again and putting it back in your makeup drawer, "Can't, baby. Got meetings."

"Cancel them."

"You know I can't do that," you smiled at him.

He whined, looking up at you through the mirror and pouting. You turned around in his hold and cupped his face with both of your hands. You pressed your lips to his pouting ones for a sweet kiss before saying, "Do your thing, and then meet me downstairs and we can have breakfast together."

And here we are to tonight.

You and Harry decided to have your group of friends over for dinner and games. It had been quite some time since your group got together so you were excited to see everybody. You had spent the entire afternoon cleaning around the house and preparing for your guests. You and Harry had suggested getting takeout for everyone rather than cooking and everyone agreed with that. You were relieved by that because you had not acquired good cooking skills and making a good dinner with enough food was not going to happen if you and Harry were in charge.

You all had agreed on Chinese and after getting everyone's orders, you and Harry went to pick it up. Once home, you began to set the table and make everyone's plates as they began to arrive. You all sat at the table and chatted, enjoying the company of some of your closest friends.

Once dinner was finished, Harry cracked open a couple of drinks and you all gathered around the coffee table in the family room to play a few games. Your friend group loved to play games so you had a wide selection of card and board games you shuffled through. You started off with one of your favorite games, Cards Against Humanity. It was probably the most widely known, simple game, but it never failed to make you all laugh.

In between switching games, you went to the kitchen to refill your wine glass. On your way back in, you met Harry's eyes and he urged you to sit with him. You sat angled towards him on the couch, one leg pressed up against your chest. He grabbed your other leg and hooked it across his thigh, letting it dangle in between his legs while his arm rested on the couch ledge behind your head. Harry has never been big on PDA, but as soon as he gets a few drinks in him, he is all over you. He constantly needs to be touching you, even if it's just resting a hand on your knee, or standing side to side with you, he wants you close. Physical touch is his number one love language and he never fails to show it after a couple drinks.

"Hi, baby," you grinned after taking a sip of your wine.

"Hi. Having fun?" he grinned back.

"Mhm, are you?"

"Mhm."

"What game are we playing now?" you asked him.

"Celebrity," he answered.

After a few rounds of that, your wine glass was empty again. You did not feel like having another glass so you got up and went to the kitchen to wash it out, saving yourself a little time tomorrow morning when you have to clean up the place.

Standing at the sink, you were rinsing out the glass when all of a sudden, you felt a familiar pair of warm, tattooed arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

"You know, it may be the wine or your new perfume, but I'm tempted to kick everyone out and take you right here on our kitchen counter," he hummed, his voice slightly louder than you like due to the alcohol loosening him up.

"Oh my gosh, Harry don't talk so loud," you giggled at him cautiously, not wanting your friends to hear him talk so dirty to you.

He grinned, "I'm serious though. That perfume has been driving me mad all week."

"I know it has. You've been all over me," you teased.

"Can't help it when you smell so delicious," he hummed, his breath warm against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver up your spine.

"Don't get me riled up," you murmured.

"Maybe I want to."

His hand began to snake its way down to your inner thigh and you immediately grabbed it with your own, "Don't."

"What are the chances we successfully sneak upstairs for 5 minutes without anyone noticing?"

"Harry, no! That's not happening!"

"What are you talking about? I can easily make you cum in 5 minutes."

"No, not that," you giggled, glancing at your group of friends to make sure none of them were paying any attention to you two. Luckily, the only thing you saw was Brad and James screaming random celebrity names while Julia tried to act out who she picked out of the cards.

"I mean we're not sneaking away to have sex while your friends are all down here."

You have had a couple glasses of wine as well, but not that many.

"Why not?" he whined.

You began to reply, but then James interrupted you, teasing you both, "You two quit making out over there! Harry, it's your group's turn!"

You blushed slightly at the attention and laughed along with everyone else before joining them on the couch.

"How many did you get?" you asked Julia.

"Zero!" she replied angrily.

"Who was it?" you giggled.

"Rob Stringer! They took the entire round to miss Rob Stringer!"

For the rest of the night, you continued spending time with your friends. After a few more games, it was getting late and everyone decided it was time to go. You said your goodbyes to your guests and walked them each out the door, making sure they got into their cars safely.

As soon as the door shut, Harry locked it behind him, pulled you in by your waist, and started pressing sensual kisses to the delicate skin of your neck, breathing in your scent, "Been waiting for them to leave for hours."

"You were not," you giggled at his dramatics, wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his embrace.

He giggled back, trailing his lips up your jaw, to the corner of your mouth before molding your lips with his. You parted your lips as he licked into your mouth, tasting you. He tasted sweet, but also bitter due to the wine he drank earlier.

"Love you so much." he murmured against your lips.

You hummed happily, "I love you too. Did you have fun tonight?"

"I did. But there's still one more thing I wanna end the night with," he replied, pushing a stray strand of hair out of your face.

"What?" you asked, even though you knew exactly what he wanted.

You watched his pretty green eyes darken with lust as he spoke before his face disappeared into your neck again, lips touching every inch of your skin they can reach as he spoke in between kisses, "You. Upstairs. In our bed. Naked. Right now."

You giggled girlishly before urging him to lift his head, attaching your lips once again for a passionate kiss, "Mmm, you got it, baby."

Your lips moved in sync with his, each kiss getting deeper and more heated. You tilted your head to the side and he followed your lead, kissing you like it was the last time he ever would. Your fingers threaded through his locks, while his hands began sliding down your backside, cupping each cheek in his large hands and squeezing.

"C'mon, I can't wait any longer," he hummed against your lips, landing a playful spank against your left cheek.

You giggled and both made your way upstairs to your shared bedroom. After entering, he closed the door and immediately pulled his shirt off, tossing it to the floor before grabbing the hem of your sweater; it soon joined his shirt on the floor. He cupped your face with his two hands and again attached his lips to yours. His tongue slipped out, tasting you while you obliged, letting him take over the lead.

You ran your hands across his bare chest, feeling every ridge of his muscles. Your fingers slowly walked down his chest, tracing his happy trail before fumbling with the button on his jeans. He interrupted you by slipping his fingers past the waistband of your leggings, pulling them down your legs. You stepped out of them and were soon standing in front of him in only your bra and panties.

While still kissing you, he began urging you to walk backward toward the bed. The backs of your knees hit the edge and you sat down on the bed, your lips disconnecting from his. Scooting backward, you got comfortable in the middle of the bed while he slipped his jeans off, leaving both of you in your underwear. He climbed onto the bed, hovering over you before continuing his assault on your lips.

He began to subtly grind his hips against yours and you could feel his hardening member against your center. Your panties dampened in return, getting more and more wound up with each second that passes by. His lips trailed down your neck until he got to the swell of your breasts. Cupping each of them over the fabric of your bra, he squeezed them, accentuating the swell before latching his lips to the soft skin. He began sucking and nipping, leaving dark purple marks that only he would see. He pulled each cup of your bra lower, exposing your nipples to him. You felt them harden at the sudden change of temperature and heard Harry groan under his breath slightly.

His lips immediately wrapped around your left nipple, sucking it while his fingers pinched your right one. Your eyes fluttered shut and your hands tangled themselves in his hair as you enjoyed the feeling of his tongue swirling around your nipple. He gave your right breast the same amount of attention before coming off of it with a soft pop.

"Take this off," he hummed.

You arched your back and unclasped your bra, tossing it to the ground with your clothes. Harry cupped them in his big hands again, this time with nothing blocking his access. He leaned down and began pressing kisses against all your sweet spots, sending goosebumps to prick against your skin. He trailed the tip of his nose up and down the nape of your neck, groaning, "Jesus christ, babe. You smell so fucking good."

You giggled, very amused at how much this tiny detail has riled him up, "Should've bought this perfume a long time ago."

He grunted in response, nipping your sensitive skin. You move his head so you can move your lips in sync with his, kissing him so deeply and sensually. His lips were so warm and his tongue was sloppy as he tasted you. You reached down in between your body and cupped his member, feeling just how hard he was for you. You slipped your fingers past the waistband and wrapped your palm around his shaft the best you could with the restriction. You moved your hand up and down before he rolled over, pulling you with him so you could straddle his lap.

You continued to kiss him, tilting your head for a different angle as your kisses got needier and sloppier. You adjusted yourself so your center was directly over his and you ground your hips against his, the friction being just enough to cause him to moan softly against your lips with each swirl of your hips.

"C'mere, sit on the edge," you ordered, climbing to the edge of the bed.

Harry followed, sitting on the edge and looking down at you. You sat on your knees in between his legs, running your hands up and down his thighs, the tattoos adorning them staring up at you. You leaned down and began peppering kisses to his skin, trailing your kisses up his thighs before reaching his member straining in his boxer briefs. You pressed your lips to it, letting your teeth gently scrape across the fabric.

"You're such a tease," he spoke.

"I love teasing you," you grinned, looking up at him through your lashes while your hand took over where your mouth just was, massaging him gently in your palm.

"I know you do."

You grinned, pressing a couple more kisses to his bulge before slipping your fingertips past the waistband of his briefs. He lifted his hips and allowed you to pull his underwear down his legs, letting them pool at his ankles before he kicked them to the side. He was completely exposed to you now. His tip, peaking out from under his foreskin, was swollen and red, leaking with precum and practically screaming at you for attention.

You wrapped your palm around his member, stroking him a few times before trailing kisses up the underside of him. You pressed a sweet kiss to his tip before slipping it past your lips, suckling it gently. You repeated your motions until you could feel his hips buck up, signaling he was getting antsy.

"C'mon," he muttered under his breath, his head falling back against his shoulders.

You smiled at how desperate he was for you before finally lowering your head onto him, taking him into your mouth. He groaned in pleasure, his head lifting up to watch you and his fingers winding themselves in your strands of hair. You bobbed your head up and down, your palm wrapped around what you could not fit in your mouth. Your free hand reached down and cupped his balls, massaging them gently in the way you knew he loved.

"Ugh, that feels so good, babe. You look so hot right now," he grunted, tugging gently on your strands of hair.

You hummed, grinning softly at him as you licked up the underside of his shaft, erupting another deep groan from his throat. You watched as his body reacted to the feel of you. A thin layer of sweat glittered on his skin. The two fern tattoos lining his deep V-line swayed like leaves on a tree with each clench of his abdomen. The moth tattoo just below his pecs danced with every inhale and exhale he took.

Feeling slightly adventurous, you wrapped your hands around his thighs and took him in your mouth again. Relaxing your throat, you took him deeper, your eyes pricking with moisture as his tip tickled the back of your throat. Bobbing your head up and down again, you found a good pace and you could tell he was rounding the corner to an orgasm.

You came off of him and wrapped your palm around his shaft, pumping him as you spread the mix of saliva and precum against him. You wrapped your lips around his tip, suckling softly before taking him in your mouth again, loving the way his breath hitched in his throat.

"Shit, baby, I'm close," he warned.

Usually at this point, you would stop. It usually takes him a little bit of time to recharge in between orgasms (especially now that he is older) and on late nights like tonight, neither of you feels like waiting for him to get it up again so you can have sex. But you wanted to play with him a little bit and see how far you could push him. So you didn't stop. You came off of him with a soft pop and wrapped your palm around him, thrusting it up and down at the fast pace you knew was his sweet spot.

"Y/N, fuck-don't. I'm so fucking close."

"Where do you want it?" you teased.

"Inside of you - god, babe, you gotta stop," he groaned almost painfully, wrapping his hand around yours and pulling it off of his throbbing member.

You stood on your feet and towered over him. You cupped his face with your hands and kissed him. His scruff tickled your skin while you shared his taste, the sound of your lips smacking against each other filling the room. You placed your knees on the bed on either side of his hips, straddling his lap while never letting your lips depart.

"You're a menace," he hummed against your lips.

"I know," you replied cheekily and he smiled widely in response.

Wrapping his arms around you, he stood up and turned around, laying you down on the bed. The roles were switched and he was now on his knees below you. He pulled you lower so your hips were on the edge of the bed and he was face-to-face with your center. He saw the wet patch on your panties, his thumb reaching out to run up and down your clothed slit, allowing your arousal to soak through the fabric even more.

"Soaked through your underwear, babe. Am I that sexy?" he teased, lips beginning to press kisses against your inner thighs.

"Mhm," you replied, feeling antsy in excitement for what was to come.

He pulled your panties down your legs, your glistening center now fully exposed to him. Your scent was so strong; the mix of your arousal and perfume filling his nostrils and making his member twitch between his legs.

"Bloody hell," he huffed to himself, tossing your panties to the floor, "You're gonna fucking kill me one day, you know that?"

You smiled as he awed at what was in between your thighs, your stringy arousal making his mouth water in anticipation of tasting you. One of his favorite things to do. With one hand cupping your hip, his other hand reached up and began running through your folds, spreading your wetness. He placed his thumb on your throbbing clit and began to slowly move it back and forth. You hummed softly at the relief, hips bucking up as you got needier for his tongue.

He wasted no time as he leaned in and licked a strip through your folds, humming in satisfaction at the taste of you on his tongue. After spreading you open for him, he wrapped his pink lips around your clit and began suckling. You reached down and threaded your fingers through his chocolate locks, tugging gently.

He began flicking the tip of his tongue back and forth across your bundle of nerves, your hips instinctively bucking up as your orgasm began to build. Playing with the shape of his tongue, he alternated back and forth between slipping into your slick entrance and suckling on your clit.

He came off of you softly, lifting his head to look down at what his mouth was just playing with. Using his dominant hand, he ran his fingers through your wet slit, admiring how slick and swollen you were. Turning his arm palm up, he slipped his middle finger past your entrance. You let out a moan as he felt around you, finding that spongey spot that caused your toes to curl.

He added a second finger and began pumping them in and out of you. The only noise to be heard in the room was the sound of your moans of pleasure and the squelching of your arousal against his thick fingers. You felt your walls clenching around him each time he brushed against your good spot. You could feel your orgasm tightening in your stomach and you knew it would not be long until he had you trembling under him.

"Oh, Harry. Just like that, don't stop," you moaned.

And that is exactly what he did. He continued his movements on you, desperate to feel you cum against him. With his fingers moving in and out of you at the perfect pace and his lips wrapped around your clit, your body was numbed with pleasure as your orgasm washed over every inch of you. Your back arched off the bed and loud moans spilled from your pink lips, letting him know just how good he was making you feel. Coming off of you with a soft pop, he sat up slightly, angling his arm to drive his fingers deeper into you. He watched as he carried you through your orgasm, in awe at how perfectly your body reacted to him.

Your orgasm began to fizzle out and your moans were overtaken with heavy breaths as you relaxed back into the warm sheets beneath you. Removing his fingers, Harry lowered his head again and lapped at your core to taste all of you, causing you to whimper slightly.

Harry stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before hovering back over you. He pressed his lips to yours for a sweet kiss before trailing them down your neck, giving you time to catch your breath, "I fucking love watching you cum."

"Mm, c'mere," you hummed, reaching down between you to wrap your palm around his member before blindly trying to line him up with your entrance, "I want you inside of me."

He replaced your hand with his hand, lining himself up with your entrance and immediately pushing in. You both let out moans of satisfaction, finally feeling relief from connecting to each other. He began moving his hips, grinding against you as he moved in and out of your slick entrance.

"Oh Harry," you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, pulling him close to you, "I love you so much."

"I love you too, baby. You feel so good," he whined back, lips brushing against yours with each thrust.

You clenched your walls around him, feeling every inch of him inside of you. You were slightly overstimulated by your orgasm just minutes before, but it still felt so good. He was grinding against you, his tip hitting your good spot with each thrust of his hips. His lips landed on yours and he kissed you slowly and passionately before trailing to your cheek, past your jaw, into the curve of your neck. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to all your sweet spots, his breath warm against your skin. He felt good. He always made you feel good, but right now, you were desperate for another release. You needed more.

"Faster please," you moaned.

Obeying you, he stood up on his feet and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed. Wrapping his palms around the back of your knees, he pulled them up to have your calves resting against his shoulder blades. Cupping his hands around your hips to steady you, he sped up his pace, driving in and out of you quickly. The change of position caused him to go deeper into you, allowing a new angle that made your toes curl against the skin of his back.

His hips slapped against the back of your thighs, reddening them with the constant force. Your breast bounced with each thrust of his hips against yours, moans and groans spilling from both of your lips. His balls slapped against your clit with each pound, stimulating you in the perfect way. You were getting close and Harry could tell.

"C'mon, baby. I know you're close. You're clenching me so fucking tight, it feels so good. Wanna feel you cum around me. C'mon," he urged.

It did not take long until your second orgasm of the night erupted in waves throughout your entire body, pleasure overwhelming every one of your senses. Your walls clenched around him tightly, triggering an orgasm of his own. His warmth spread through you and filled you up, causing a whole new wave of pleasure throughout your body. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your grip on the sheets was so tight your knuckles turned white. Both yours and Harry's moans mixed together and echoed throughout your home, filling it with sounds of your love.

His pace began to slow down as you both came down from your highs. He collapsed onto you, head resting just above your chest bone. You held onto him, running your fingers through his sweaty locks as you both caught up with your breath.

"That was so good," he breathed out, his breath warm against your skin.

"Really good," you agreed.

"I can't remember the last time we both finished at the same time like that."

"I know," you chuckled breathlessly.

He raised his head to look at you, pushing your hair from out of your face before cupping your jaw, "I love you so much."

"I love you too. So much, baby," you replied, your heart swelling at this sweet moment.

"Don't ever get rid of that perfume."

[spacebaby1]

hiyaaa

Can I ask Rindou's reaction to the fact that his partner is expecting his child?

and for more drama (I'm a dramatic girl and I love drama) you could have Rindou's partner hide the situation from him

drama, angst but happy ending 😝

Hiii! Bestie, I got you! One thing about me is that I live for drama in writing 🎀😌🫱🏻‍🫲🏼 let's start!

You and Rindou never had an argument because he always listened to you, but that didn't last long. You couldn't even remember what escalated the whole conversation into an argument, which led to Rindou slamming the door behind him as he left you'd house last night. The whole night you couldn't sleep not until the sun was out and your eyes gave up from all the crying; you weren't even sure why you were feeling emotional usually it's hard to make you cry. Anyways, you fell asleep around the early hours of the day after shutting your phone completely.

All the crying tired your body to no end that you ended up sleeping until late afternoon. Around four in the afternoon you woke up with a painful headache and aching in your abdomen and before you could grab your phone you felt your stomach turned and you ran to the bathroom, throwing up for a good half an hour before you sat on the bathroom floor.

The memories of yesterday's argument came rushing to you after you were back in your room sitting on your bed with your head in your hands. You weren't feeling well at all and thought the argument took a toll on you so bad that you were about to get sick. You didn't question the vomiting because it was how you'd react if you had a heated argument; it was natural body response to you. Finally, picking up your phone, you turned it on only for Rindou's texts. Fill your screen, followed by numerous of missed calls:

My love: Baby are you okay?

Look, I'm really sorry for shouting at you. I just lost control. But it wasn't your fault. It was me. Please forgive me?

My love:Darling? Can I call you?

*missed call*

*missed call*

My love: baby please answer me, at least end the ringing so I'll know you can see my calls.

My love: I'm so soo sooo sorry

My love: I can't sleep after I made you upset, I'm an idiot! I wish I can hold you right now...

My love: Are you sleeping, sweetie? Good night, my beautiful baby.

12:23 P.M

My love: baby? Sweetheart? Please text back.

My love: at least tell me you're not hurt I'm fucking going insane!

My love: y/n! Baby, I'm sorry!

3:50 P.M

My love: I'm worried about you angel, text me! It's not your usual self to sleep this much.

My love: Can I come by? I'm sorry baby, please don't give me the silent treatment. I'm so sorry, and i would apologize a thousand times if it means you'll forgive me the thousandth time."

He must've seen you reading the texts, and before you could reply, he called you. You sighed and answered, "Baby? Baby, are you okay?" You heard his tired voice. It wasn't until you answered that you realised how sore your throat was, "hi," it came out almost as a whisper before your cough holding the phone away a bit. Rindou panicked at the sound of your tired voice and coughing, "I'm coming over-"

"No, please not now," you replied in a low voice, "I'm not feeling well, just-just- I nee-" you were crying again, he heard you snuffling. "D-dont cry," now he was crying, You shook your head as if he could see you, "I'm so sorry, I hurt you. "I'm so sorry and i would apologize a thousand times if it means you'll forgive me the thousandth time. Just let me see you."

"Please, Rindou. I need space."

"You're not breaking up with me, are you?" He asked with a shaking voice. "No, Rin, I just need to be alone now." You heard his little sigh, "Okay, baby. Did you just wake up? You sound tired, let me order you some food-"

"No, Rin. I can-"

"No, please. At least let me do what I'm supposed to do as your boyfriend. Let me take care of you?" He sounded defeated, but you loved how he always took care of you No matter where he was. "Okay, I love you." You could almost hear his smile when you said that, "I love you more baby, call me if you need anything." You hung up and rubbed your forehead. The next two days were blurry because of how exhausted and sick you were. Usually, you'd let the fever go away, but it kept getting worse to the point that you couldn't put food down in your stomach.

On the third day you decided to visit the doctors and run some blood test to make sure it isn't anything serious and you wish it wasn't what you heard. "Miss Y/n? The blood test shows that everything is fine, just a slight changes in BP but it's normal at this stage."

"Huh? What do you mean at this stage?" You asked the doctor, and she looked at you confused then back at the chart that she was holding. "The pregnancy, you are three months pregnant, Y/n. Did you not know that?" Your eyes widened, and you could barely hear anything after that. Suddenly, it hit you. You were late, and you've been feeling so much different.

"I'm pregnant? Three mo-month?" You whispered more to yourself than a question to your doctor. The doctor nodded, "it explains that vomiting and the abdominal pain, are you okay?"

You got up, " Can you do an ultrasound? Can i see it?"

The doctor nodded, "Sure, if you'd want to."

You almost cried when you saw the screen of your ultrasound, "This is the baby." She pointed at the screen, and you smiled, forgetting the whole world the moment you saw your baby, "do you want the prints?" You nodded, whipping your happy tears away. It wasn't until you got home and saw the picture of you and Rindou on your phone screen is when your smile dropped; Rindou will not take the news well, you thought to yourself and you thought you were doing a good job at avoiding his texts and calls; it was a bad idea because he only grew more concerned about your relationship.

It was another day of you feeling absolutely horrible and vomiting all morning until your stomach was in knots. You heard the frantic bell ringing, followed by knocking on the front door. Groaning you got up holding your stomach with one hand as to you made your way towards the front door without asking who it was you opend the door slowly only to find Rindou standing there with tired eyes and looking panicked. He immediately gathered you in his arms making you yelp in surprise of how hard he was holding you; one of his hands on the back of your head and the other hilding you by the shoulder, "how could you avoid me for two weeks? I'm going insane thinking about you, baby. Why do you hate me so much? Fuck! I missed you." You gasped for air, "Ri, you are c-cruching me, I'm in pain-" He immediately let go and you almost fell on the ground passing out but he held you to his chest as you caught your breath, "you gonna crush me to death?" You asked in a low voice and groaned in pain holding your stomach. "Did I hurt you? I am so sorry, baby." He picked you up bridle style and headed towards your room, carefully placing you on your bed before sitting beside you and checking your forehead, "baby? You're burning." You shook your head, holding his hand in yours, "it's nothing, just an upset stomach. W-what are you doing here?" You asked, feeling yourself drifting to sleep. He sat on the floor next to the bed, kissed your hand, "you haven't text back for two weeks. I was worried, and you're sick yet you didn't call me?"

You shook your head, "I went to the doctors, it's nothing just a stomachache, it'll go by it's own." Rindou shook his head, "No, let me take care of you, do you wanna eat something?"

"I can't, I'll throw up, and it only hurt my stomach more, I just need to lay down." You said almost in a whisper before eventually falling back asleep, still holding Rindou's hands. "My baby," he kissed your forehead before running to get some cold cloth and place it on your forehead. Since you were sleeping, he decided to tide up your vanity a bit since you couldn't do it, and he noticed your things everywhere.

Rindou picked your make-up and placed them to the side, then your accessories which he put away in the box, and he grabbed your other things and opend the drawer to put them away only to find the ultrasound prints next to the results. His heart started beating fast as he took the picture in hand, eyes wide open he read it again and again making sure what he was looking at was indeed a baby and the test had your name on it. You were pregnant, and he felt his eyes blurred when he saw the date; it was a two and half week old test. He could hold back his sobs as he looked at the ultrasound prints. He was trying not to wake you up with his sobbing and he was shaking so hard that he had to sit down on the floor because he didn't trust his knees to hold him standing; he's gonna be a father? Did you even want the baby? Why didn't you tell him?

He sobbed for an hour before making his way towards you and softly kissing your forehead which made you wake up, and you blinked at him. He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand with tears falling from his eyes which made you immediately sit on your bed, "Rinny? Wh-why are you crying? What's wrong?" You cupped his puffy face in your weak hands as your eyes met with his hand holding the ultrasound prints in his hands as more tears fell from his beautiful eyes, "Why didn't you tell me? I'm I not en-" you hugged him closer feeling yourself about to cry, "Don't say that, please." You whispered and he hugged you.

You both stayed like that for minutes and on until Rindou whipped his tears and sat beside you on the bed, with you covered with the blanket and head resting on his chest while he couldn't stop smiling at the picture of your baby. "I'm sorry I wasn’t there for this." You shook your head cuddling closer, "you seem happy." He looked down at you and wrapped his arms around you, "I'm gonna be a dad, of course I'm happy. I can't believe it. I'm gonna be a dad. There's gonna be a mini version of our love? I hope it's a girl, then she'll look as beautiful as you. Did you check? Is it a girl? Or boy?"

You chuckled at his excitement, "No, I didn't. I was just terrified and happy to see the baby." He hugged you closer, "you don't need to be terrified. We'll be great, Mama and dada. I promise."

[angel-of-the-moons]

Chocolates vs Aliens

Eddie/Venom x Pregnant!Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Fluff, details of pregnancy , childbirth mentions. Venom loves babies! This! Is! A hill! I will die on!

A/N: The winners of the poll! I'll do the Moon Boys next! Also okay its not a drabble but enjoy this hot word vomit asdfghjkl idk should I make a part 2??

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"SHE IS OUT OF CHOCOLATE?!" Venom's voice boomed inside his head.

"Relax, buddy, we can hit up the 7/11 down the street." Eddie scoffed, adjusting his wireless earbud. Thankfully it looked like he was on the phone, so he could talk freely to Venom without anyone thinking he was insane.

And well, he kind of was, a tiny bit.

Just a tad...

"BUT I CAN SMELL IT!" The symbiote whined childishly as Eddie scooped the frozen egg rolls into the wiry basket looped over his arms.

"Yeah yeah, I know. Mrs Chen could have eaten the last one, Vee. Just chill. How about some chocolate ice cream?" Eddie grinned at the pun.

"No! We always get brain freezes!" He entity huffed.

"Because you scarf down the whole tub in one go." Eddie chuckled.

Venom grumbled again, and a tendril snaked out from beneath Eddie's sweater and dropped a box of brownie mix into the basket. "Fine. I can settle with these."

"Whatever you say, love, but you're helping me bake the shit." The man shrugged in reply as he remembered to grab a carton of milk. He'd need some eggs, too... Well, at least his landlord let him move the chicken coop to the roof in exchange for some free eggs.

Those chickens were fat and spoiled, and Venom loved the little critters dearly, which Eddie always found humorous. Now, whenever Eddie made the joke of turning them into KFC, Venom would be aghast and headbutt him, citing that Sonny and Cher were his "babies".

He'd been talking like that a lot lately, Eddie realized. Venom apparently had a paternal streak in him. Eddie noticed that as well when Venom would find homeless kids or runaways, helping them and trying to seem as non-threatening as possible, even going as far as to change his fangs so they were blunt. (One of the kids assured him that was far creepier than the monster fangs, which made Eddie nearly keel over in laughter...)

"Deal." Venom purred happily, the tendril receding back to slip beneath Eddie's shirt and wrap around him like a hug.

"Alright, alright." Eddie chuckled, grabbing an extra box just in case as he walked around the shelves, sparing a glance at his phone to check the time.

"Eddie." Venom's voice said.

"What?" Eddie lifted his gaze, feeling Venom's haste flood him and put him on alert.

His eyes trailed the store until he landed on the checkout counter, where you were sitting. Not Mrs Chen, but cute, innocent, blissful you.

You were happily munching on a chocolate bar, one of the very ones Venom wanted. It would seem you had claimed it, eating the sugary morsel happily.

"Oh." Eddie mumbled.

He felt it as Venom seized control of his legs suddenly, sending him forward in jerking motions until he practically ran into the counter, making you jump in surprise.

"Oh! Sorry!" He smiled awkwardly, a faint blush to his cheeks.

'Venom, quit it! I'll get you chocolate later!' He said mentally to the alien inhabiting his body.

"No, Eddie. Wait."

"I, ah... Got a bit sidetracked and tripped over my feet." He added.

You smiled at him, "Oh, god. Yeah, I feel you. Lately it's like dragging my heels through wet cement." You chuckled.

Huh. You were... God, you were cute. He could tell even Venom thought so. With your cute fluffy turtleneck and your hair all done, your cheeks nice and rosy from the blush you'd applied.

Which... brought up the question.

"I've never seen you 'round here before." Eddie commented. "Mrs Chen is usually the only person I see in here..."

"Oh! I'm new in town, I live just down and street and she saw my situation and offered me a part-time here. I have a work from home job and everything, but ugh, just staying cooped up inside is so boring!" You say the last part with a groan.

"Damn, would've been nice if she offered me that job a couple years ago." Eddie chuckled.

You giggled a bit at him and looked at his basket, "Is that all for ya, hon?"

"Oh, yeah!" Eddie said, carefully organizing the things onto the glass counter. His eyes flicked to the candy bar you were still steadily breaking pieces off of.

"Bit of a sweet tooth, huh?" He teased.

"Ugh, god... lately? Yes! The craving for it has been absolute hell." You sigh exhaustedly. "Almost everything in my apartment is chocolate flavored or scented now!"

"... Cravings?" Eddie echoed, raising a thick brow.

"Okay, I know what you're thinking and no. It's not "that time of the month" like your brain is probably saying." You snort.

Eddie watches as your hand trails down to your midsection and you pat your belly beneath the plush fabric of your sweater, where a gentle swell stood out a bit more prominently as you smooth the fabric taut over your stomach.

"I just have a certain little jellybean who thinks they can dictate what mama wants to eat all the time. And apparently, chocolate is what's on the menu for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And... in between." You chuckle.

"OH." Eddie and Venom thought in unison.

"That's why she smells like that!" Venom barked, realizing the underlying scent of chocolate on you was laced with something else. Hormones. He was picking up on those, too.

"Oh! Uh, congrats!" Eddie said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "I'm sure you and your, uh, partner are probably super happy, huh?"

"Oh, no, it's just me." You smiled with a hum, taking another little sweet square between your lips.

Eddie's brow furrowed. "What?"

"Okay, so I'm not gonna be rude, but I will explain." You snicker. You seemed infinitely patient and polite about the subject. Apparently this very thing must be a common occurrence with you, that random people must constantly ask this same question, and how tiring it surely must be to answer it again and again...

"No, I don't have a partner, husband, or anything. No daddy."

Eddie awkwardly pointed to your belly. "Then how did y'know... that get in there?"

Eddie controlled the flinch he wanted to make when Venom pinched him. "You did NOT just call her baby a THAT!"

"Yeah, yeah I know. But there's something everyone forgets, and that it doesn't always "take two to tango"." You smile at him again, ringing up his items with one hand, chocolate still clutched firmly in another.

"I decided that I wanted to be a mom. But I didn't want to just go out and get pregnant willy nilly. I have a good job, steady income. But I don't have time to date and there's always the concern that I'd be left a single parent if whoever I was with decided parenthood wasn't for them, y'know?"

Eddie nodded patiently as he and Venom listened to you with rapt attention.

"I went to a fertility clinic, did what the doctor said, then had my egg fertilized with a sperm donor. And then boom," You point to your belly. "Jellybean."

"Oh, that... Yeah okay I forget fertility clinics are a thing." Eddie laughed, shaking his head.

"Well I'm glad you're so open-minded about it!" You grin. "Most people judge me and go "oh your baby needs a father!" and the ever so classic "you don't even know who the father is?" line."

Eddie frowned, and he could tell even Venom was irritated on your behalf. "You don't need to have a partner or spouse to raise a baby. Seriously. What is this, the 1940s?"

"I knoooow!" You giggle again. "And besides! I can support me and my baby just fine, and I'm already happy and so far the pregnancy has been a breeze!"

Eddie could feel a tugging sensation from Venom. The symbiote was curious, and wanted to touch. But Eddie knew that was not only rude as hell, but to some people, socially unacceptable if you don't know the person or ask permission first.

"How uh, far along are you?"

"I just hit my second trimester." You chirp proudly, patting your belly. "The baby's tiny, but I'm finally showing, now."

"Ohhh." Eddie snapped his fingers. "Hence "jellybean", right?"

"Yes!" You laugh.

Eddie pulled out his card and swiped it to pay for the groceries. "It's a cute nickname. Have you thought of any names yet?"

Your brain did a record scratch, and Eddie could see the look on your face.

Nope. Not at all.

You hadn't thought of a damn one. Especially because you didn't know the sex of your baby yet.

"Uh...."

Eddie started snickering at your expression, "Ahhh. My bad." He shoots you a cocky grin, "If I can recommend a name, Eddie is a pretty strong one!"

"Weak." Venom mocked.

"Eddie?" You echo, blinking.

"Oh, don't listen to him, girl." Mrs Chen snorted as she walked up to you two, whacking Eddie with a rolled up newspaper. "This boy is nothing but trouble!"

Her words were jabbing, but not spoken without affection, so you could tell they had a history together.

"Ow! Hey!" Eddie pouted, rubbing the top of his head.

"Oh please, I'd need to shoot this out of a cannon to dent that hard head of yours!" She huffed with a smirk, crossing her arms.

She tilted her head and noticed the candy bar in your hand, and made the mental connection with Eddie and Venom. Riiiiiight. Venom needed chocolate. Mrs Chen tossed it to you when you started scrolling through your phone for door dash orders for chocolate cakes from local restaurants to sate your cravings.

"Oh, right. Sorry about your chocolate fix." Mrs Chen replied, her gum smacking softly. "Gave the lady one to help ease her stomach."

The flush to your cheeks made Eddie smile as you looked at the candy in your hand. "I'm sorry!" You sputtered.

"Hey, man, you got a baby in you. You can't exactly tell the little, uh.... eh. The little person they can't have it?" Eddie struggled. He wasn't sure how the whole cravings thing worked, honestly. Would you indeed cry if he didn't accept your offer? Would your baby get hungry? Was that a thing? He knew jack and shit about babies in general, man.

"Pff, moron."

'Parasite.'

"I AM NOT A PARASITE!"

"Oh, I know but uh..." You say, your eyelashes fluttering as you think, looking from Eddie to the bar in your hand. You decided to finish breaking off the pieces you were working on, and extend your hand giving the rest to Eddie. "Here! I'm good, if I need more I can nab some from the gas station down the street."

"Oh! Uh... I don't wanna, y'know. Take anything from you and your baby." Eddie said, waving his hands.

"Eddie, if you refuse to take it, she could cry." Mrs Chen teased. "You don't want to make a pregnant woman cry do you?"

Eddie's face was hilarious as panic started to bubble up within him as he looked from you, to your outstretched hand, to Mrs Chen, who stood as proud as can be at the chaos she had just sewn.

"Hey! I'm not that hormonal!" You retort to the older lady. But... you deflate a tiny bit. "...Okay, well not yet but still!"

Eddie was still going through the moral dilemma of accepting the kind gesture vs taking candy from a literal baby in somebody's womb.

Venom made the choice for him, extending our Eddie's hand and letting him take it.

"I, uh... Thanks." Eddie blabbered quickly.

"Now let's go home before you make an idiot out of us further." Venom cackled gleefully at the socially awkward situation.

Eddie grabbed the plastic bags and gave an awkward wave and a smile before skittering out of the store with his tail between his legs.

"Geez, he needs to get laid once in a while." Mrs Chen scoffed, going over to check inventory.

You barely had a moment to collect yourself, stopping before you laughed so hard you peed yourself.

That was the first time you and Eddie ever met. It would not be the last.

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Eddie shopped at Mrs Chen's place pretty regularly, her prices were easy on the wallet and she was close by to he and Venom's apartment.

You steadily built up a rapport with Eddie over the next two or three weeks. Venom was inexplicably drawn to you, wanting to constantly convince Eddie to touch your belly.

Eddie kept reminding him that it was frankly rude as shit to do that, and that hell, it would probably make you uncomfortable.

Not long after that, Eddie and Venom discovered--to Venom's utter glee--thay you lived in the same building, the apartment just above his. They found this out when Venom insisted on making sure you made it home after your shift at Mrs Chen's ended, knowing how vulnerable a pregnant lady looked to crooks and criminals.

Twice Venom caught and ate the brains of lowlifes who tried stalking you.

Venom, despite you not knowing of his existence, was fiercely protective of you. And... well he liked you. They liked you.

Eddie hated how quickly both he and Venom became infatuated with you, listening to you talk about your baby, your cravings... They could tell you were lonely despite your cheerful demeanor. Yes, Eddie and Venom had each other already, but they quickly thought about adding you to the mix.

But again, you didn't know about the alien slime monster living inside of Eddie. That subject would have to definitely wait...

He would check on you, leaning his head out his window on occasion to talk to you as you looked up, it brightened up the monotony of your at-home life in between work, asking about how you were feeling as your pregnancy developed. He even texted you lists of different baby names and their meanings to help you out!

When he first asked you out, you were floored. You've never met a man who was interested in a woman pregnant with somebody else's baby, before. You've heard about it sure, but... You were more surprised anyone was interested in you while pregnant with some guy's baby. Let alone your cute downstairs neighbor who apparently babied his pet chickens that were kept on the rooftop.

He even introduced you to them! You didn't hold them of course, for fear of bacteria, and chuckled as he furiously disinfected himself before even coming within three feet of you, all for you and your baby's health.

A man who was sweet, considerate, caring and he loves animals? Add the looks to that bill and that was a difference you were willing to pay. How was he still single?!

But... Well. That changed after your first date, and he was glad you accepted it all.

And it wasn't long after that (several weeks actually) you discovered he wasn't, in fact, single. He didn't have a girlfriend or anything but he certainly had a partner.

Said partner... was some kind of ooze-critter that lived inside of him. And you only found this out when you came home from a late night convenience store run for some triple chocolate chunk ice cream, walked into your apartment...

And saw him.

Venom, in his hulking form, stood awkwardly in your apartment, looking like a deer trapped in headlights when you flicked your lights back on, the ice cream in your bag forgotten.

As your door slowly swung closed due to angled flooring, you opened your mouth to scream.

Venom cut you off, his massive hands shooting up and he waved them, "DON'T SCREAM!"

You snapped your mouth shut, your teeth making an audible click as your heart hammered in your chest.

"We were worried! You weren't responding to our texts or when we knocked on your door?" His deep and rumbly voice growled out.

You shudder at the timbre of his voice, eyes never once leaving the rows of jagged fangs in his maw. You drop your plastic bag and step back, covering your belly--now very prominent as you were later in your term--protectively.

That seems to... upset him? He frowned, looking at the carpet as he lowered his hands, his large eyes narrowing as he carefully thought, trying to think of ways to alleviate the fear bubbling through you.

He took a slow step towards you, like you were a frightened animal caught in a trap that he had to be gentle with, lest you struggle or flail and get hurt.

"We were worried about you. We--" His head snapped to his left and he snarled. "Yes! "We"! You were worried, too! Don't try to say you weren't!"

You watch, in shock as he has essentially a one-sided argument with himself, getting exasperated, saying the word "love" and "dear" here and there.

You stayed, scared, until the ugly sensation of your nausea reared its ugly head and you dropped the plastic bag, literally shoving past this gigantic creature in a mad dash to your bathroom or you were gonna blow chunks right then and there.

You didn't even shut the door before you collapsed to your knees, hugging the bowl as you heaved the contents of your digestive system into the pearly white porcelain, leaving what could only be the Venom, the creature that supposedly stalked your city eating people, in your living room.

By the end of the nausea fit, your eyes were watery, your nose was runny and your face blotched with color, the whites of your eyes glassy from the strain. You felt lightheaded and dizzy as you rinsed your mouth with water right from the tap, gargling and spitting until the foul acidic taste went away.

You felt your now empty stomach growl and your first instinct was to go get food and eat again, to replenish the energy you just spent hurling everything you ate that day.

But then you remembered...

The big guy.

You didn't have any sort of object to wield as a weapon, so you merely sheepishly peeked around the corner, watching as the creature called Venom gingerly moved about your kitchen, things that looked like tentacles reaching out and grabbing a cup, some ice, and a can of ginger ale from your fridge and pour it into the cup; all the while making a sandwich. Nutella with your banana/mango spread. A favorite you'd started to enjoy in the past week.

But the only person you ever told that to was...

You froze when he turned around, locking eyes with you as he set the food on your breakfast island, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

"We... We know that you're probably hungry after... So we figured..." He said, gesturing vaguely to the food and drink in front of him.

"How do you know..." You breathed.

His colossal shoulders heave as he sighed, walking around the island and over to you, stopping just a mere few feet away.

"Promise not to be mad? Or scream?"

You weren't sure why in the hell he asked you that, but you felt already too far gone into shock to really argue. Plus, throwing up took all urges to scream from your poor sore throat.

So, you nodded.

"Okay."

You watched as the strange black goo peels back layer by slinking layer, until a man is revealed beneath.

But it's not just any man.

It's fucking Eddie. Your neighbor-turned-recent-boyfriend.

"You--!"

"We can explain! Just please, please don't be mad at us!" Eddie winced.

You felt another dizzy spell start to hit at this revelation. "How long--"

"A few years. Look, we planned on telling you. It's just... not tonight. When you didn't answer my texts or calls, I got worried and..." He sighed.

You watched as Venom's head moved out from behind Eddie's shoulder to peer at you, the thick black goo that made up the appendage holding his head up moving almost like water. He offered you a smile, and part of you wished that'd solve the tension in the air, to assuage your increasing confusion. But sadly, it didn't.

"Vee didn't want to fucking wait an extra ten minutes when you didn't answer the door and climbed through your window, which you should start locking I mean I know we're on the upper floors with no balcony or fire escape, but it's still a safety concern and with the baby--"

You interrupted Eddie's rambling. "Vee?" You echo.

"Uh--okay. That's what I call Venom when he isn't being an incorrigible shithead. Or a parasite who takes control of my body." Eddie sighed.

You almost laughed when Venom headbutted him in the side of his head.

"Stop calling me that! It's rude!" Venom snarled.

"No, what's rude is breaking into somebody's apartment!" Eddie retorted, jabbing a finger at Venom. "We talked about this!"

"You were worried, too!"

"Yes but I wasn't going to crawl through her goddamn window!"

Your eyes darted from one to the other as they started bickering like a... like a... Oh.

Yeah. It was after a two hour long conversation that Eddie told you everything. About his ex, the Life Foundation, finding Venom, fighting Riot, then the whole thing with Carnage, Venom's offspring... and of course, their actual relationship with one another, now. They argued like a married couple because they basically were one, complete with... well. You weren't ready in the current situation to imagine how the bedroom situation worked between them, yet.

You took it better than he expected. Way better.

"Honestly.... The only thing scarier than Venom is childbirth." You said, sitting next to him on the couch, your hands on your belly.

"...Eddie." you said slowly.

"Uh--yeah? What's up, sweetheart?" He asked awkwardly, Venom's eyes immediately drawn down to where your hands caressed the bump beneath your thin t shirt.

"How come you haven't asked to touch my belly yet? I'm... surprised. I've had random people come up to me and ask, but not... you."

"Wait... uh. So. You're giving... Permission?" Eddie asked, blinking his big, ridiculously lashed eyes at you.

"Well, yeah, and--"

"FINALLY!" Venom hissed.

In a black blur, Venom lurched forward over Eddie's shoulder, straight for your tummy. He pressed the side of his head against your belly, tendrils of his strange slime-like flesh wrapping around your midsection; listening to the baby's heartbeat and feeling for any movements.

Eddie meanwhile, looked equal parts horrified and embarrassed as he facepalmed, blushing all the way to his ears. "That's why. He's been fucking obsessed with you and your baby since he first realized you were pregnant."

You looked down as the symbiote cuddled you, and by extension, your baby, your jaw agape at how he was purring while he nuzzled into you.

"...That's why you're always so concerned about me?" You asked dumbly, blinking over at Eddie, who gave you an awkward smile and shrug in reply.

"Yeah, hate to break it to you, doll, but... Vee has kinda... claimed you two." He said.

"Claimed me." You repeated.

"Yeah. He has this thing... with kids?" He rolled his hand to try and think of words to describe it. "He's overprotective. He's the same with Sonny and Cher, it's just... he doesn't interact with many pregnant people so when he met you, that weird little drive kicked in. The fact that we both started feeling something for you outside of that kinda blindsided us, but..."

"So what?" Venom scoffed, resting his chin on the curve of your belly, looking up at you with a grin. "This is our baby now, and we will protect the both of you."

"Venom!" Eddie snapped.

"You claimed us?" You were having a difficult time wrapping your head around this. All of it. The whole situation in general. First your boyfriend has a boyfriend who technically isn't a boy but identifies as one because gender was a foreign concept to his species, they were together before they met you, Venom is a literal alien--

And now... was he saying...

"L-Look, I know it's early on and we haven't been dating long, but..." Eddie rubbed his sweaty palms on his faded-out jeans.

"Are you two saying... that you want to be with me? Rest of the pregnancy, birth, and all?"

The hell was your life, some kind of weird, cheap, sci-fi romance novel? The dashing, handsome alien(s) swoop in and offer to help raise your baby? What kind of parallel world were you in?

Eddie was quiet, and Venom merely stared at him, before looking back at you.

"Yes." He said. "Eddie is too much of a pussy to say it, but he likes the idea of taking care of a tiny you."

"Venom! Fuck! Stop calling me that!" Eddie snapped at the symbiote as he protectively snuggled your tummy.

Venom merely stuck his tongue out at him, "I will when you stop calling me a parasite!" He looked back up at you, giving you the best rendition he could of a hurt puppy. "Do you see how he talks to me? Despicable!"

You snorted a short laugh before you could stop yourself, and covered your mouth.

"Hah! See? She thinks I'm funny! So shut it!"

"Oh, my god, that does not count--"

"Yes it does I already won." Venom said contentedly.

"Look!" Eddie groans. "Just... We are willing to be with you. Take care of you, and help with the baby. If... you'll have us. I know this whole situation is weird, but..." Eddie trails off, looking at you hopefully.

The decision wasn't as difficult as you thought it'd be. Eddie and Venom haven't given you a reason to be afraid--other than scaring the shit out of you earlier because Venom apparently has fucking anxiety--and, well... They were so sweet, and gentle... And if Venom doting on your unborn baby currently was any indication, the affection would probably increase a hundred fold after your little bundle of joy arrived.

"Okay." You said.

All the tension seemed to drain from Eddie's body and he sighed, a relieved smile blooming on his face as he looked at you with a look in his eyes that had your heart doing a little flip in your chest.

"Thank God..." Eddie sighed happily.

Venom grinned widely at you, before shooting back to Eddie and seizing the body again, his inky black mass covering Eddie entirely.

Your couch creaked under the added weight of Venom's increased mass as he leaned over, dwarfing your whole body as he wrapped his thick, tree-trunk arms around your tinier body, nuzzling into your cheek before giving you a kiss. Thankfully no tongue, because you thought you'd probably choke if he did that.

When he pulled back, your face was flush at the boldness of his actions, and looked up at him as his opalescent eyes narrowed sweetly down at you.

But something Venom said clicked into your brain, finally, once it rebooted from the kiss.

"Venom, you said you two wouldn't mind helping raise a tiny me." You began. "But I don't know if I'm having a boy or girl, yet."

"Oh, we can." Venom grinned. "I could tell when I was holding onto you. It was easy."

"What?!" You sputter.

"You're having a little girl, by the way."

🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫

You booked an appointment two weeks later. And damn, Venom was right. You were having a girl! At least the naming situation was easier, now that you narrowed down the sex.

Many people said you and Eddie were moving fast, but you ignored them because they didn't know the real situation. Your apartment was bigger, two rooms, one for you (and now Eddie and Venom) and the other was the nursery for the baby.

Eddie was affectionate, but Venom was downright clingy. He was almost always wrapped around your belly in some way or another, purring as he used his weird slimy body to massage you. He helped with your back strain surprisingly, how he would massage you. Eddie proposed maybe letting Venom bond with you for the remainder of the pregnancy to ensure safety and good health, but Venom shot the idea down himself.

He explained it like it was a bit like an organ donor match, if you weren't a match for him you could get sick, or God forbid both you and the baby could die. And to Eddie's surprise Venom made the nature decision to settle for massaging your back and tummy to ease the strain.

Venom jumped at the chance to rub your coconut oil into your belly to help ease the risk and appearance of stretch marks, too.

Through the mood swings, crazy cravings and nesting phases and all, you two boyfriends stayed with you through all of it. Several times you woke up to Venom and Eddie cooking in the kitchen, making sure you had a decent breakfast in the morning.

The only problem was... well. They cooked like broke college boys. So, you spent time giving them cooking lessons, which was one of the funnest things you'd done in a while. The messes were worth cleaning up, the cute recordings you made were memories that'd last a very very long time.

Nighttime cuddles were great, Venom slinking beneath the blankets to wrap around both you and Eddie to snuggle, massaging you the whole night. It really helped when he would conform a certain way so you could lay on your side comfortably and ease the strain on your poor spine and hips.

Who needed a pregnancy pillow when you had a symbiote, right?

Eddie and Venom read up as much as they could on the subject of babies and childbirth and to say Eddie was terrified was an absolute understatement. The photos and diagrams alone had him chewing his nails (getting a swift smack from Venom) and he felt himself getting queasy when he found out that apparently you would be delivering the placenta as well?!

How much did you have to go through, making a tiny human?!

This whole situation amused the fuck out of you, however, as you'd done all this research and merely accepted it. A bit of blood, etcetera after delivery seemed easy to deal with given you've dealt with your period since puberty and that alone was a mess by itself...

But watching a man learn more about it? Oh, it was hilarious.

But hey! They were excited for a cute little baby girl to snuggle and kiss!

One night, you were laying in bed as you scrolled through various baby items online, saving a few cute things for later. Eddie had his head on your shoulder, watching a movie, with an arm draped over your belly, now painfully (sometimes literally) obvious bump, feeling the baby shift and move around as she kicked inside of you.

Venom had encapsulated Eddie's arm, his massive hand stroking your tummy idly.

Apparently, a thought had been bouncing around in Venom's brain and he finally decided to ask it. His head morphed from behind Eddie and peered over at you.

"The baby is a girl." He said.

"Yeah, Venom, that's been established." Eddie snorted, moving until his cheek was resting on your chest.

"Eddie, that's mean." You chuckle, running your fingers through his hair. "Venom, continue."

"Thank you, sweet thing." Venom purred at you, shooting Eddie a glare afterwards.

"But anyway... If the baby is a girl now..." He tipped his head to the side. "What if the baby decides or realizes when she's older that she isn't one? Or either?"

You lower your phone, eyebrows raised at the gravity of his question. Even Eddie sat up on his elbow to look at Venom, surprised at the depth of the question coming from his symbiote. Honestly though, the subject made sense coming from a species that technically didn't have genders in the first place...

Venom seemed happy with your reply, and looked to Eddie expectantly. He already knew what his opinion was, but he wanted him to say it out loud for you.

"Well..." You begin. "If she decides she wasn't born the right gender, or feels like she's neither, or even leaning on both scales... I won't have a problem. I just want our baby to be happy and healthy, not conformed or trapped in any way. That includes the identity she will have as she realizes things about herself."

"Well, I don't have room to talk on gender identity." Eddie snickered. "Considering how you didn't really decide to go by male pronouns until you bonded with me and stuck with that identity because it fit for you... so, yeah. Whatever the baby decides when she's old enough is fine with me."

You grin and kiss Eddie on his temple, ruffling his hair as Venom nuzzles into your belly.

Yeah...

Safe, happy, and loved. That's what your baby would be, no matter what. With her two weird dads and her mom who puts up with their nonsense.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Losing his cool

Heyy guyss, I hope you enjoy this reader x Lewis one shot :)

If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

The sun was shining high over the paddock, casting a warm glow over the Mercedes motorhome. You loved coming to the races whenever you could, always excited to support George, your younger brother, but also to soak in the electric atmosphere of the track.

Today, though, you were enjoying a rare moment of quiet, sitting comfortably on one of the sofas in the motorhome, your oversized sunglasses perched on your nose and your outfit, as always, effortlessly stylish.

As you scrolled through your phone, you felt a soft nudge against your leg. Glancing down, you saw Roscoe, looking up at you with those big, round eyes, his tail wagging with excitement.

"Well, hello there, handsome," you said with a smile, bending down to give him a scratch behind the ears. Roscoe flopped down at your feet, clearly in the mood for attention, and nudged a toy toward you. With a chuckle, you picked it up and started a gentle game of tug-of-war. His playful growls filled the motorhome, and you found yourself laughing as you pulled the toy from side to side, completely engrossed in the moment.

Lewis’s Perspective

Lewis walked out of a debriefing, looking forward to taking a breather in the motorhome. But as soon as he stepped out into the paddock, he noticed something — Roscoe was nowhere to be found. He furrowed his brow, scanning the area, wondering where his adventurous pup had wandered off to.

“Where’s Roscoe?” he mumbled, heading toward the motorhome. As soon as he stepped inside, his heart did a quick flip.

There you were — George’s older sister, casually lounging on the sofa, your smile lighting up the room as you played with Roscoe. He stood there for a moment, frozen.

From the first time Lewis had met you, you had an effect on him. You were effortlessly stylish, funny, and kind. Since that moment, he’d developed a quiet crush on you. The only problem? Whenever you were around, his confidence seemed to vanish.

Roscoe, sensing his presence, bounded over to him, wagging his tail.

“Oh, there you are,” you said, looking up with a grin. “I was starting to think I’d have to keep Roscoe for myself.”

Lewis chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, he’s good at wandering off. Sorry about that."

"No need to apologize," you replied, giving Roscoe one last pat before sitting up. "He’s great company."

Lewis felt the heat rise to his face, trying to hide how flustered he was. "He’s... yeah, he’s a good boy."

You smiled, tilting your head slightly. "So, what about you? How’ve you been? George told me you're are getting into music again, what’s on your playlist these days?"

The sudden switch in conversation threw him off guard. "Uh, playlist?" He cleared his throat, his mind racing to come up with an answer. "I’ve been listening to a lot of old-school hip-hop lately. Kendrick Lamar, a bit of J. Cole. Stuff like that."

Your eyes lit up with interest. "Kendrick, huh? Didn’t take you for a hip-hop fan. I like that." You leaned in slightly. "I’ve been obsessed with Sabrina Carpenter lately, especially her new album,."

Lewis grinned, feeling a bit more comfortable. "Sabrina is great. I'm not into pop music but I do like her songs, besides, I've heard that her live shows are insane, too."

You nodded, your gaze locked on his. "I bet. I’ve been dying to see her live. Maybe we should go to a concert sometime."

He froze at your words, his mind momentarily blank. Did you just suggest going to a concert together? He quickly tried to play it off casually. "Yeah, that could be fun."

You leaned back with a teasing smirk. "Could be?"

Lewis laughed awkwardly, his nerves creeping back in. "I mean, it would be fun. Definitely."

"That’s more like it." You gave him a playful wink, and Lewis couldn’t help but smile, though his heart was racing.

You tilted your head slightly, your expression softening. "So, how’s your break been? Any big plans?"

Lewis shifted, trying to keep his cool. "It’s been good. Spent some time hiking in Colorado with Roscoe. It was nice to get away from everything for a bit, you know?"

"Colorado sounds amazing," you said, your eyes lighting up. "I’ve always wanted to go hiking out there. Maybe you can show me around sometime?"

Lewis blinked, his heart skipping a beat. He hadn’t expected you to be so direct. "Uh, yeah, sure. I mean, if you’re ever out there…"

You smiled, clearly amused by his nervousness. "I’ll hold you to that."

As the conversation continued, Lewis found himself relaxing more, enjoying your company as you chatted about music, travel, and everything in between. But when the conversation lulled, you stood up, brushing a hand through Roscoe’s fur one last time.

"Well, it was nice catching up with you," you said, smiling warmly at him. "And since you’ve been dodging the question all afternoon… how about I make it easy for you?"

Lewis blinked, confused. "Question? What question?"

You laughed softly, stepping closer. "I know you’re not going to ask me out, so... how about I ask you instead?" Your tone was playful, but your eyes held his steadily. "What do you say, Lewis? Dinner next weekend?"

Lewis’s heart nearly stopped. He hadn’t seen that coming at all. His mind raced, trying to process the fact that you had just asked him out. "You... want to go out with me?"

You grinned, shaking your head at his surprise. "Yes, Lewis. I want to go out with you. What do you think?"

His nerves suddenly melted away, replaced by a wave of excitement. "I’d love that," he said, his voice a bit more confident now.

"Good," you said, giving him one last playful smile before turning to leave. "I’ll text you."

As you walked away, Lewis stood there, dumbfounded but grinning from ear to ear. Roscoe barked softly, as if to say, It’s about time.

Lewis shook his head, still in disbelief. "Yeah, Roscoe," he muttered, glancing down at his dog. "It’s about time."

[liiixsturniolos]

can you do one where matt is streaming with chris late at night reader is already asleep. Out of frustration he slams his hands on the desks and wakes up reader instaid of going back to sleep she gets up and sleeps on his lap and chat explodes about how cute they are thank youuu

LOVE THIS IDEA!!

⊹₊ ⋆ my baby ⊹₊ ⋆

Warnings: just fluff!

^ Matt and Chris are streaming on Twitch, playing fortnite:

"Oh my god! Matt bro, fucking move!" Chris yells.

"I'm litterly on the other side of the map, dude." Matt shouts back.

"Fuck! He's gonna kill me. Matt help!" Chris screams.

"I'm trying to shoot him chill!" Matt screams back.

"Fuck! I died!" Chris shrieks and slams his fist against his desk.

You wake up and look around, dazed and confused, still half asleep. You shuffle to the end of the bed and stand up.

"Oh shit, sorry baby." Chris says to you, when he sees you're awake.

You yawn and sigh, and climb up onto his lap.

"Y/n what're you doin'?" He asks

"Sleeping here." You reply.

He chuckles, "Oh, okay."

Your face is nuzzled into his neck, your arms are wrapped around his waist, and you're sat on his lap. You can feel the warmth of his body and hear his heartbeat. You snuggle further up onto him and hug him tighter.

He smiles down at you and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, rubbing his thumb across the side of your face to help you sleep.

"I'm so sorry I woke you up, my baby." He whispers.

"It's okay." You mutter.

His pc starts beeping. He looks up to see the chat going insane. There are hundreds of comments a minute.

"Damn." He giggles, "You guys think we're cute?" He laughs again.

You let out a soft, sleepy giggle, looking up to read all the chat messages about you guys. Then you lay back down and let him rub his thumb against your face. While your eyes flutter closed and you fall peacefully back asleep.

tysm for reading, and please keep leaving requests in my inbox for me to write! please also consider I'm a new writer, so this may not be great, but I tried my best!

Comment if you wanna be added to my taglist!

[nakylvr]

can you please do fluff prompt 4 and 6 with katseye lara×fem reader??

Where lara notices one of her shirts are missing and during practice she sees reader wearing and it all ends in confessions from both of them

Thank you and stay happy<3

(Ps: can the reader be like the shortest member of katseye(158cm-160cm)

this was so fun to write omg thank you for requesting 🫶

— NOBODY BUT YOU

lara raj (katseye) x fem!reader

summary: fluff prompts 4("is that my shirt?) + 6("keep it, it looks better on you") from my 100 follower event OR during practice, lara notices one of her shirts is missing, only to find you wearing it

warnings/tags: fluff, confessions, 7th member!reader, wlw

main masterlist | katseye masterlist

lara isn't one to lose things. so when she realized one of her shirts was missing, she thought she was going insane. she looked through her things again before giving up realizing she would be late for practice if she tried looking for it again.

walking into the dance studio, lara's eyes land on you sitting on the floor while looking at your phone. her gaze focuses on what you're wearing, noticing the familiar shirt, and she feels her heart practically flip over at the sight of you wearing her shirt. before she could say or do anything, practice had to be started.

during the entire practice lara couldn't keep her eyes off you. she even messed up once or twice because she was looking at you instead of focusing on the formations. she was thinking of how to talk to you about it, going through different scenarios in her head before deciding to just wing it in the end.

once practice was over, the rest of the girls had left the studio leaving just you and lara in there. she walks up to you as you grab your phone, glancing up and seeing her approaching you.

"is that my shirt?" she doesn't bother beating around the bush, getting straight to the point.

your face immediately heats up when she questions you. looking down at yourself and what you're wearing, your blush only grows bigger as you look back at her. "i-i thought it was mine, i was rushing and didn't even notice i'm so sorry," you start talking quickly, not knowing what her reaction would be. "i'll wash it and give it back t-"

"keep it, it looks better on you," lara smiles at you, adoring your response to her simple question. she takes another step towards you and grabs your hand. "y'know, i'd like to see you in my clothes more often. you'd look so cute in one of my outfits."

you can feel your brain short circuiting as you listen to her talk to you. she's totally flirting with you, right? who else would say that with a purely platonic tone underneath it? you've had a crush on lara since you met her, and this is leading you to think that maybe she likes you too. you don't know how to respond, looking up at her as she smiles at you. "i'd like that," you eventually reply.

a silence fills the air for a moment, and your eyes trail down to her lips and then meeting her eyes again. she leans down a bit, her face inches away from yours as she quietly speaks. "can i kiss you?"

all you can do is nod your head, not trusting yourself to speak as you feel your heartbeat picking up in speed. the second after you nod, lara closes the gap between you two, kissing you softly. the kiss is short-lived when she pulls back, grinning down at you. "you wore my shirt on purpose, didn't you?"

a smile is on your face as you peer up at her, giggling at her question and nodding again. "maybe i did," you answer sheepishly.

"nice idea," she laughs. "so, do you maybe wanna like, be my girlfriend then?" is her next question, still holding onto your hand as her thumb draws circles into your skin.

your smile grows bigger at the second question, nearing a grin as you respond. "of course."

leaning closer again, lara pecks your lips quickly. "who knew losing one of my shirts would get me a girlfriend."

[selarina]

Bleeding Heart Dove

-> Nanami Kento x Reader

Summary: In the quiet routine of a strained marriage, a simple proposal for a trip offers a glimpse of hope.

Tags: angst, slow burn, marriage au, marital strain, emotional hurt/comfort, implied emotional neglect, second chance au, rainy day, fluff, suggestive, mention of reader having boobs, unresolved tension (they need to fuck nasty), unedited

Word Count: 970 words

Author's Note: it's raining and I finally got a surge to write something <3 anyway, bleeding heart dovessssssss have my heart

Read on AO3 | Part 2

Today had been sad and gloomy, the rain pouring relentlessly as the clouds had been crying since noon.

He tried to make his entrance small, creeping in like a nimble thief in the night. Slowly, he removed his sodden shoes and coat, hanging them up to dry. His umbrella he placed on the ground, even more slowly. See, it was an old one, and tended to spring up and about with sudden movement.

He stepped inside the kitchen now. There was food on the table, just as always. He uncovered the plastic wrapping and placed it in the oven, not even bothering to check what was for dinner. Hunger was gnawing at him and he would eat a human hand if you let him.

"Hello," a voice cut through.

"Oh," he turned, startled. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

"I was up anyway," you replied. Your business clothes clung to you like the remnants of a very weary day. You must have returned late as well. "Let me help, Nanami."

He didn't say anything, simply stepping aside to let you tend to his plate and yours. He had assumed he'd have the whole meal for himself, a strange notion given the portion size. But given that he hadn't eaten all day, he didn't question the rationality at first. Now, it made sense — you hadn't eaten either.

He started setting up the glasses, placing two for wine and two for water, movements mechanical and jittery.

"Here," you said, appearing before him with a corkscrew in hand, as if conjured by some quiet magic.

Your hands looked tired. Lagging. Your eyes bleary. An impulse stirred within him, as though a needle had pricked at his heart, he felt the urge to swipe his hands over your eyes, to wipe away the weariness. But he withheld.

"Thank you," he murmured, taking the corkscrew and setting to work on the bottle.

Your gaze lingered for a mere second on his hands, watching the way they flexed with the way he handled the bottle. Precise. Gentle.

"How was work?" you asked, turning to the oven.

He wonders if you actually cared about what he said. “Horrible,” he answered.

"Oh," you replied. Neutral. "Okay." Neutral again. It drove him a bit insane every time. But he was a calm man.

"And your work?" he asked.

"Oh, quite lovely," you replied, a soft, dove-like smile gracing your lips. It was a smile that brought a sting of sadness to his heart, for he knew you would not elaborate. Not for him.

"That's nice," he said, his voice hollow. He poured the wine into the glasses, filling yours to three-quarters and his to a scant half.

And then the two of you sat, on opposite ends of your teak dinner table. Eating and swallowing in silence. The clanking of the forks being the only music that filled the room. He thought about getting up to play set the record, playing some of those old jazz tunes you were quite fond of. But the record was likely dusty. It was much too much work.

So he remained seated, the silence between you so vast and impenetrable, it made you conscious about how loud you were chewing your food.

—

"Well," you returned from the bathroom. now clad in delicate sleep shorts and a camisole, applying your usual moisturizer to your elbows. "The water's cold," you commented.

"Yeah," he responded, glancing up from his spot on the bed. "Sorry, I prefer it cold so I didn't notice. I think it's the rain."

You chuckled, a sound that seemed almost out of place. "I know you prefer it cold, Nanami. We've been married for practically a millennium, for God's sake."

An exaggeration, of course. It had been six years. You did this a lot.

He offered a faint smile in response, the corners of his mouth barely lifting. "Right," he said.

He felt the bed dip slightly under your weight as you sat. "Will you get my back?" You asked, holding out the moisturiser as you turned to present your back.

He took it, as his hands lifted your camisole, all the way up. He poured some of the white lotion onto his hand as his eyes flickered up, only momentarily, to see your reflection in the mirror. The front half of your top had risen as well, cinching up your breasts.

His eyes trained back to your back, and he began to rub the cream in. Up and down. And up and down. And up and down. When he was finished, he smoothed down your top. He rubbed his hands over your shoulders, giving a gentle squeeze to let you know he was finished.

And then the two of you slept, side by side, waiting for sleep to come find you in the dark. And just then, he doesn't know how or why this happened so don't ask him. All he knew was that somewhere in those first twenty minutes, he had gotten up, his hands reaching for the night lamp to turn it on, leaving you sat up, surprised.

"What is it?" You had asked.

"We should go on a trip," he proposed, calmly.

"A trip," you squinted, your eyes adjusting to the sudden assault of light.

"Yes, we could go to Okinawa," he suggested.

You paused for a moment. "It's storming these days. The weather will be horrible."

"You pick," he said. "Wherever you want to go. We can go."

And then, you thought about it. For a few seconds, he was almost afraid you'd call him a foolish old man and fall back onto your pillow. But instead, you smiled—an earnest smile, outside of your usual politeness. And he felt his heart beating fresh blood.

"Okay, old man," you said. "I'll think of a place."

He smiled.

[graphedpaper]

Renter Problems 3

yandere!celebrity x fem!reader

Synopsis: You're trying to find a place near your university to stay, and you've managed to find a mansion owned by a celebrity to live in. His name is Jacob, and you've known him since middle school as the arrogant douche who occasionally spread rumours about you. He's blown up recently as the new, hot celebrity thanks to the movie he's starred in, though, while you're just struggling to pass by. For an unknown reason, he's obsessed with the idea of you being his girlfriend, and after you announce you will be moving out, he decides to imprison you in his house. You learn he's even more abusive than ever, especially with his new influence. Details: Physical and verbal abuse, NSFW, manipulation, fem reader, kidnapping, non-con, oral Warning: NSFW, Non-Con

"I'm back!" A voice that sends terror to your nerves calls up towards the bedroom. He sounds happy... energized, even. It causes you to relax your tense muscles.

Your face is sticky with dried tears, and fresh tears on top of that. You're starving, and you've had to go drink water from the bathroom sink just so you wouldn't dehydrate. Your voice feels gone and you were too scared to try and escape with the threat of an alarm.

So pathetic. You might just be letting this happen to you. You might like this after all, being a victim.

No, no. Keep strong.

You shake your head of the dangerous thought. The betrayal of your own mind.

You tried, you did try. The door. You tried knocking it down so many times. But it was solid and felt like a 3 meter thick stone block.

He unlocks the door. He walks towards you.

Please. Please don't.

"I'm so fucking exhausted, shit." He sits down on the edge bed next to you and lies back.

You flinch away. Your empty stomach sinks five meters and you regret flinching from him. He could get angry again, and he might-

He glances at your cowering body from the corner of his eye. You weren't scared then, so why so scared now? Can't you see he's trying to be nice? It irks him, truthfully. He's not a fucking monster for God's sake.

"So, you're not going to ask me about my tiring day at work?"

"Why are you doing this." You ask him, your words flat to the wall as you gaze at the small bumps of the dried white paint to avoid looking at him, heart hammering.

Jacob could just ignore that. He could shut you up, train you. But he's a nice guy. He's chill, he's a sweetheart. He's a harmless flirt! (That's how the latest news articles had described him as. How could anyone not fall at their knees?

"Because I like you." He replies. And it's a truth of sorts. He does like your body. He likes how you look, and your voice. He doesn't like how you act as of late though, like a pretentious whore.

"Jacob, please, I don't like you in that way. I have... I have a life, I have plans. I- I have to go to college in a few months, please!" You cry out, losing all composure.

He laughs out loudly at your cries. "Y/n, what life? Your own parents don't even think of you as their child, you have no friends, and you have no house!"

He sits up and roughly grabs your face.

"Stop. Whining."

His hands feel tight around your jaw, like he could crush it. His hold on you forces your lips to pout slightly and you feel humiliated.

He quickly lets go and gently pats you on the back, like he's cheering up a sad child or something.

"Sorry," He says after a bit of quiet. "I just feel like you could at least pretend to care."

Insane. That's the only word that comes to your mind. He's insane and nobody except you knows. Your friends at their fancy university, they don't know, your parents, they don't know, no one knows.

You stare back at him. His wavy hair sits slightly messed from his tantrum, his doe-like eyes that dig into your own. It's deceptively sweet and trustworthy. But he also had a darker side to him, you could feel it, not from the way he sat, or analyzed his every surrounding, not even his need to control everything. No, no, it was an instinctive scream that rang echos in your soul to run away. He was not a sweet boy, he was a dangerous man, and you needed to get away. In fact, he'd never been a sweet boy. At best, a playground bully. Appearances were deceiving, and that gave you chills.

Is that why he had imprisoned you like this? Because you had broken free of his control? Then perhaps you could free yourself by aligning back with his wants, whatever that was. You could pretend. You could pretend to be his girlfriend.

"Umm... So you had a long day?" You try. You're fearful for a negative reaction.

But almost immediately, his face brightens up.

"Yeah, I had to film 3 interviews today and everyone was fucking disgusting. They're so fake, I could see right through them. Every one of them, they're hideous." He rants, as he comes closer to you slowly.

"Unlike you, you're breathtakingly perfect." He winks at you.

He reaches over to hold your hand and you let him. You have no energy, really.

"Y/n, I have so much stress pent up inside me." He tells you. His eyes brush your body in a way that makes you feel like throwing up. Throwing up what, you don't know, because you haven't had food in almost a day.

"You do?" You ask slowly, unsure what he means by that.

A cord of tense atmosphere wraps itself onto both of you, and it holds you two there. The air feels thick.

"Yeah, I mean, I just really need to release the stress."

He spreads his legs just slightly, and your heart stops at what he's suggesting. His jeans have a bulge in it, that wasn't there this morning.

As you sit on the edge of the bed with your legs tucked in under you, you feel a sweat arising from the deepest core of your body, the type that forces you to run. To run away from this.

But you can't.

"No- please- Jacob, no, please, I'm a virgin," You back away into the headboard as you begin to sob.

He comes closer to you and you want to puke. Really.

"I thought you cared about me. I thought we agreed that in order for this relationship to work we need to care about each other?" He demands.

Your stomach grumbles. Jacob smiles at this, having already planned everything.

"You're hungry right? You haven't eaten at all? I got food and it's downstairs." He says.

"Yeah- yeah I'm hungry." You reply, shaking.

"Then, do this for me and I'll let you eat." He holds your handcuffs and drags you close to himself.

You freak and you thrash, trying to get away, but he holds onto your tied wrists tight. "Jacob, please, I'm so scared, I don't want to do this. It's too early." You beg him.

"You're a virgin?" He asks, and you're confused. You already told him, so why's he interrogating you like this?

"Yes." You respond, hesitant.

"Ok, doesn't matter, you'll still be one at the end." He says, in a relaxed tone. You're left to ponder what he means by that. It's a contradicting statement, to have sex and still be a virgin.

Jacob sees your confusion and smirks. "What, like you've never heard of being a blowjob?" He says mockingly. "Get down on the floor."

You gasp at his crude words and try to shrink away, off the bed.

"Kneel down, or I'm going to cut your fucking finger off." He threatens. His threat still fresh in your mind, you force your own body to move down onto the floor.

He releases the hold on your handcuffs and you kneel down on the floor. It forces you to look up at his open legs.Jacob undos his black leather belt.

"Now, pull my zipper down." He orders, hand on your shoulder.

You try to, with your cuffed hands, but it won't work. The hands which are bound render you incapable of unzipping his pants.

"Jacob-" You begin.

"You have a mouth, right?" He interrupts you with a patronizing smile.

The absolute humiliation of this, the way he treats you like an animal leaves you furious. His sincere suggestion of you to kneel and use your teeth to undress him. You still do it though, because what choice do you truly have? You lean your face into the intersection of his pants and hold your breath in fear. You take his pant zipper in between your teeth and drag it down, like a dog. His underwear looks like it'll burst, and maybe he knows that, because he quickly pushes it down to reveal his hard-on. His dick slaps his lower abdomen from the release of the constricting fabric. It's almost painfully red at the tip.

It's big, and maybe scary isn't the right word to utilize in describing this scene in front of you, but all you feel is white-hot fear.

"Well?" He asks.

"I don't know how." You tell him.

"Just put your mouth on it, no teeth." He replies.

But you just can't force yourself to do it. You shake your head no and tears well up in your waterline again. Jacob smiles, in a knowing way, and he reaches over to the nightstand drawer. You freeze and analyze every microscopic movement of his body. He opens the top drawer while still holding onto your hair, tight.

Jacob didn't really want to do this to you. Well, maybe just a little. Okay, he wanted to do this a lot.

He grabs a sharp knife and puts it to your neck. However small, it's still a blade, which causes you to instinctively jolt. You scream and try to move your neck away.

"Do you really want to do that?" He asks, still having your hair in a strong grasp. "One wrong move and it cuts into a very important vein."

You must think he's so sick. What would you do if you knew he was getting turned on from this? That's why he loved you so much, you were the only person he could really do this to. You were a nobody from his past, but you were a nobody from his past.

"Jacob please, please, I'm not ready." You let out a sob, as the blade broke the soft skin of your neck. Your body shakes in terror.

You feel your breathes quicken and your chest tightens up. Jacob notices how your small body is heaving rapidly, and his gaze softens, a little.He lifts off some pressure from the knife and pushes your head onto his cock. You're tired, you're starving, you might die. Your fogged-up brain lets your body be lead like a marionette as you let his tip press into your plush red lips you don't fight back.

"Suck it with your tongue." He orders.

And you do, you cautiously lick the tip of his length with a few swirls, tasting him. It's repulsive.

"Oh fuck." He moans, throwing his head back slightly.

So he likes that.

You hope he'll be happy with your tentative licking, but he becomes greedier and greedier with each second. He pushes himself deeper into your mouth until you start to gag and cough. The foreign object in your throat keeps you from breathing and you desperately want to throw it up. But his hands have a strong hold on your head.

"Oh god, yeah, oh, you're doing so good- oh, baby, you-you sure it's your first time?" He moans out, panting and he begins to thrust himself in shallow ins and outs.

He doesn't expect an answer, this is all his fantasy after all.

You press on his legs to push him off, and he finally removes his cock. You lump over and you cough. He forces back into your mouth after a few quick breathes though, he's searching for his release and it's coming soon. Tears are just a part of your appearance now, as he thrusts into your throat you can feel your mind going somewhere else.

He starts to become rougher and his legs tense.

"Fuck, shit, oh fucking fuck!" His face is in bliss, a contrast to your own.

He goes deeper and faster and he manages to make out one last sentence.

"Swallow, don't you dare spit it out."

A thick, hot, but salty liquid floods your mouth, and you wince at the gross substance that coats your tongue, but you brace yourself and swallow.

Jacob stares at you and pats your head, as if that makes up for it.

You collapse of exhaustion on the floor and Jacob gets up to change into his sweatpants first. Then he puts the knife away and brushes his hair slightly.

Finally, he scoops you up, and sees that you're unconscious. You look tired but peaceful, like a fairy, or a dying angel. Your eyes are closed as your lashes curve just a little bit upwards, your lips in a relaxed position. Your skin is radiant, and Jacob finds himself smiling at your beauty.

He gently puts you on his bed, and covers you with a thick blanket.

"Sleep well. I'll get you breakfast tomorrow, I promise."

If you enjoyed this, you might enjoy the rough draft version on wattpad. Yes, I know, wattpad stories suck, but that's the place it's at for all the public to see. There are far more chapters, so I just wanted to let anyone curious know, since re-editing these chapters take some time.

[theteasetwrites]

Begin Again

Chapter 4: L'élu

❧ Media: The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon ❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 1 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: violence, blood, death ❧ Word Count: 10k (sorry)

❧ In This Chapter: You and Daryl get to know the inhabitants of the abbey, as well as the truth behind Isabelle's intentions. Just when the two of you decide to leave, trouble from another group leads to limited options, and a possible way out.

❧ A/N: Well it looks like I finished this literally just in time for Season 2 lol. Also sorry this chapter is insanely long. And sorry I took so long to finish it. I don't know if there are many people who are reading this series lol but I sure do appreciate everyone reading it! I'm not sure how Season 2 is going to go with the sneak peeks we've been getting lately, but rest assured that (Y/N) will not be letting Isabelle anywhere near Daryl, that's for sure.

“Across the courtyard is where the sisters live,” said Isabelle, leading Daryl into the corridor with you following close behind, now dressed in a simple linen blouse that was a few sizes too big, tucked neatly into brown wool trousers. With a quick pause, she turned to Daryl as she led the two of you forward. “No men allowed.”

That interested you, because you’d seen a man. Well, a boy. 

“What about the little boy I saw?” you asked.

“Laurent grew up here. With us. He was orphaned.” She continued to speak something in French to another nun as the three of you passed through the hall and into a wider room. As the two of you crossed the threshold, a couple of passing nuns carrying baskets of linens hesitated, stepping back a bit as their widened eyes took in your unfamiliar figures. 

Before you could manually tug your facial muscles into a small smile, the nuns hurriedly scurried past, clearly not interested in pleasantries. Or perhaps it had been so long since the seemingly secluded cloister had visitors that they’d all but forgotten them. After all, you couldn’t really imagine many people happening to stumble upon the remains of this crumbling castle in the French countryside. You and Daryl, however, were an exception, to be sure.

“They’re afraid of you,” said Isabelle, a breathy laugh lilting her words. 

“We’ll be gone soon,” Daryl assured her. It assured you, too. 

Advancing into what seemed to be the foyer, your eyes were drawn to your left, where iron bars separated the grand entrance way from what appeared to be a small armory. Daryl followed closely behind as you entered, your eyes darting between neatly organized displays of rudimentary medieval weapons—from maces to spears to halberds. You’d seen well-stocked armories, one of which was in Alexandria. Even by Alexandria’s standards, this one was impressive.

“Medieval churches often had weapons rooms,” Isabelle said. “You needed them back then.”

You split from Daryl, each of you drawn like moths to flames to either side of the small room. You found yourself entranced by a display of war hammers, the silver of their heads dulled by a few layers of dust that must’ve accumulated over years of disuse. One in particular caught your attention—a smaller one, about the length of your arm, with a two-sided head, one side beveled and blunt, the other sharp and curved slightly. It reminded you of your ice axe, the scrappy hiking tool that you’d found in a sporting goods store in Georgia. That was so long ago now, but the thing somehow survived through it all, though in truth you no longer had any idea where it could be, after the mess of everything that went down before you landed here. 

“Makes sense.” The gravel of Daryl’s voice with its soft echo stirred you from your thoughts of distant memories, now clouded by seawater and sand. 

“We’ve trained ourselves to use them. Just in case.”

“Killer nuns, huh?” you replied, a hint of disbelief in your voice. 

“Well, we can defend ourselves if we need to.”

The nun met your gaze with a relaxed smile. In her eyes, that damned calm that you couldn’t get past. She was too inscrutable, too poised. She knew something, you just weren’t sure what. 

Behind you, you felt Daryl’s body brush past. Turning around, you saw what had entranced him—a wall of guns on display, each with a small silver plaque identifying the make and model (in French, of course). Even the guns had an antique look to them, with their stocks all made from a rich umber wood. A far cry from the militaristic automatic weapons that Daryl had been used to carrying over a year ago when he was a trooper for the Commonwealth, but he found a subtle artfulness to these machines, as if they were crafted by hand. The collection reminded him of the old guns his father kept laying around the house he’d grown up in rural northeast Georgia. He’d almost shot his own eye out with one when he was three years old, according to Merle, who had a much clearer memory of the event than the younger Dixon brother did. Nevertheless, he couldn’t forget that wood stock. Not any kind of pleasant memory, of course, but a memory nonetheless.

“Père Jean was a collector,” continued Isabelle. “His grandfather fought in the Maquis.”

Daryl’s finger trailed to a suspiciously empty space between the other weapons, where a pair of display hangers were waiting patiently without their rifle. 

“You’ve got one missin’,” he said. 

Isabelle replied calmly, “That’s the one I used.”

Your gaze flickered towards her, and when you caught a flash of her pale blue eyes already on you like a sniper’s crosshairs, you quickly snapped your attention away. Beside the firearms display was a door left ajar. The room it led into was smaller, with its own collection of antique tomes and trinkets. Your eyes were fixated on the bookshelf behind a mahogany desk, upon which sat a microscope and a small rack of glass vials. 

Approaching behind you, Isabelle’s voice continued. “That’s Père Jean’s office.”

You were beginning to wonder where this mysterious Père Jean was. Wherever he was, he certainly had an impressive library, just based on the sheer volume of leather-bound books packed tightly into the shelves. Despite your inability to read the French text, you were more interested in Père Jean’s books than you were in his guns. Daryl had more than once told you that guns were more useful in the outside world because you could use them to defend yourself. Well, he should’ve known better, as someone who had once been an accidental victim of your ability to use a rather large encyclopedia as a blunt force object.

As for Daryl, his practicality overcame the curiosity that befell you, for his eyes were immediately drawn to what appeared to be an old shortwave radio, not too unlike ones you’ve seen Eugene hauling around Alexandria back when he was setting up the radio system there. 

“You know how to use that radio?” he asked, pointing towards the contraption. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve managed to reach anyone on it.”

“Do you mind if I give it a try?” you asked. You didn’t want to brag, but you knew your way around a radio. Many nights spent trying to get a hold of Daryl through a crackling radio frequency during his particularly long hunts or his brief stint as the leader of the Sanctuary were very educational.

“Sure,” she replied. “Once you get better.”

There was another exchange of looks between you and Daryl, the latter of which was just starting to lose his patience. You could tell. The irritated twitch in his eye said it all.

Silence settled in for just a few moments, until you received the unspoken impression that Isabelle was ready for you to exit the room. You did so, but as soon as you heard the click of a key turning, you turned to catch the nun locking the door shut from the outside. Your eyes followed her hands as she clipped a rusty keychain onto the brown leather belt that cinched her waist.

“The last one was a Spaniard,” she continued. “A few months ago. He spoke a bit of English. I could try reaching him again.”

You kept your mouth shut, lest you say something snarky. 

“Your English is good,” remarked Daryl. 

“My parents worked for Médecins San Frontiéres. They traveled all over.”

How convenient, you thought. 

“Bosnia, Chechnya, Rwanda.” Perhaps it was the jealousy still souring your impression of the woman, but you couldn’t help an internal eye-roll. Of course this woman was beautiful and skilled and tough and intelligent and worldly, too. You hated her. Well, you didn’t, but you hated the idea of her. Too perfect. You knew it was petty. Still, as long as you kept your thoughts to yourself, you were sure you’d be able to warm up to her. Maybe. 

“My sister and I finished our schooling in Paris,” she added. 

“How’d you end up here?” Daryl asked. 

“A bunch of good decisions.” 

There was a familiarity to her words, but you couldn’t place it. Unbeknownst to you, you couldn’t place it because they were words Daryl had spoken to Isabelle earlier, only slightly altered. 

A bunch of bad decisions, he had said when she asked him the same question he now asked her. 

You looked between them, their stares lingering. You did not like it. Not one bit. Not because of jealousy, but because it was clear that whoever this woman was, she was capable of pulling strings—of manipulation. 

Well, maybe it was also jealousy. A bit.

The dusty, centuries-old air of the castle gave way to a fresh breeze winding through the covered walkways that surrounded the courtyard you’d seen earlier. Isabelle herded the two of you through the open corridor as the other nuns toiled in the garden. It was impressive, though more primitive than the ones you’d constructed back home. 

“Was this garden always here?” you asked. “I mean, before.” 

“Yes and no,” Isabelle answered. “The abbey was already being modernized by the time I came. Our hope was to convert the land into an agricultural property that would support us, fund our mission.”

“Looks like it’s working,” you said. “It’s impressive.”

Isabelle turned to smile at you. It seemed more natural this time, less forced than the previous ones. “It’s been enough to keep us going.”

Across the courtyard, you noticed the jerky movement of another nun, tilting her head to signal something to Isabelle, you presumed. She was an older woman with a black hood, as opposed to Isabelle’s white. She must’ve been a full-on mother superior, or whatever you’d call it. You weren’t entirely sure. Her face was serious, though, tinged with what you interpreted to be distrust, or even fear. No doubt it was related to the two weather-worn strangers the nun towed behind her. 

“Take a seat,” said Isabelle. “I’ll be right back.”

She left the two of you before a stone table, and just ahead of you, a familiar face approached: the young nun you’d first encountered when you awoke here. Sylvie, you recalled Isabelle calling her. She carried a tray of food with a jug of water, placing it on the table in front of you without so much as a second of eye contact. Perhaps she was wary of you, too. You didn’t blame her too much, considering how much you’d stressed her out upon your rude awakening. 

“Thank―uh… merci,” you said quietly, a tad insecure of the way the unfamiliar word sounded on your American tongue. Still, Sylvie seemed to respond to you with a slight lift of her head. She met your eyes with an anxious look in her wide eyes. Unsure of what else to do, you simply smiled. The nun did not smile back, only nodded her head in one quick, near imperceptible motion, and then turned sharply, walking away with quick steps. 

Daryl’s shoulder grazed yours as he leaned over the table to inspect the provisions: two crisp red apples, two bowls of stew, two hard boiled eggs nestled in tiny cups, four slices of homemade wheat bread (buttered), and two small glasses for water.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he took a piece of bread into his hands, breaking it apart and putting the other half back with its brethren. That was a habit of his―rationing even when he didn’t really need to.

“How is it?” you asked, watching him nearly finish the bread in two bites. 

His lips pursed as he chewed and nodded his head. “Good.”

“Better than mine?”

“Nah.”

You took the piece he’d left and took a small bite, savoring the taste. “Mm… You’re right. Mine is better.” 

With the tray of food in your possession, you sat together on the stone slab connecting two columns in the peristyle, facing each other as you leaned against the hard stone structures and savored the simple foods you’d been given. Once in a while, you’d look out into the courtyard, watching the nuns carry out their daily chores. You spied a goat or two, and a dozen or so chickens squawking about. The boy you’d seen earlier, however, was nowhere to be seen.

“I wonder why Isabelle’s so stingy with that radio,” you said. “You think she’s hiding something?”

“Maybe. Or she doesn’t want us to leave.”

“Maybe both.” Taking a bite of your apple, you couldn’t help but wonder just what kind of people you’d run into this time. “Ritual sacrifice,” you said. Daryl lifted his head from the bowl of soup he slurped from.

“What?” 

“Maybe they want to sacrifice us for some weird cult thing. Like an offering to God. You ever see The Wicker Man? What if human sacrifices are what keeps this garden so nice for harvest season?”

Daryl couldn’t quite tell if you were serious or not. After all, stranger things had happened to the two of you. 

“You’re jokin’, right?”

A smile slowly crept across your tired face. “I guess. Mostly. I just know there’s something up. I need to get to that radio, Daryl.”

“Me too,” he agreed. “Sooner the better.” He leaned in closer now, and you followed suit. His voice lowered to a whisper, he said, “The keys are on her belt. Maybe tonight we can…”

His voice trailed off into nothing as his eyes shifted to your left, focusing on something else. Despite your feeling that something was approaching, you kept your own focus on him. “Daryl?”

He leaned back quickly, putting distance between the two of you once again. Before you were even aware of the boy’s presence, he’d gingerly placed what looked to be a Rubik’s cube onto the stone bench. Like you’d just seen a giant spider, you stood up swiftly to distance yourself from the contraption. 

The boy, the same one you’d seen earlier, you presumed, didn’t hesitate to take your seat. He looked at Daryl expectantly. 

“Now you try,” said the boy. Laurent, you recalled.

Without the knight’s helmet obscuring his appearance, you took note of the long, slightly unkempt hair that reached his shoulders in dark waves. It reminded you of Daryl’s, put the boy himself seemed much too talkative and abrupt for further comparison between the two.

With a somewhat suspicious gaze, Daryl looked between the puzzle and the boy. It was solved, he noted. He could never figure these things out. Neither could you.

“My record is three minutes and twelve seconds,” Laurent continued proudly. He picked up the cube and held it out towards Daryl for further indication. Daryl took the cube in his own hand, tossed it around for a moment or two, then handed the thing back. 

“I’m not really good at shit like that,” he said. Perhaps being away from the children for the last month or so had deprived him of his usual sensibilities which prevented him from cursing in front of them. Daryl didn’t even notice he’d done it, but you did. Still, you were too confused by the precocious child’s sudden appearance to say anything.

“No? Oh. I’m quite good at… shitlikethat.” You cringed slightly at the boy repeating Daryl’s words, albeit sloppily and in a French accent. You just hoped he wouldn’t repeat it in front of the nuns. “Math problems, science, music, geography. Also, I know all the countries and capitals from back in the before time.”

An exhale escaped from your nose. “Wow.” Laurent’s alert face turned towards you, looking up at you with cunning, yet unassuming, brown eyes. “You learned all of that here?”

He smiled. “Père Jean taught me everything.”

“Well, he sounds like a smart man. I’d love to meet him.”

The boy’s face visibly darkened before he turned back to Daryl, who clearly was the object of his fascination. “Pardon my manners, monsieur. I’m Laurent. Pleased to make your acquaintance” Holding his hand out, Daryl took it, and the boy administered a single firm shake. 

“How many people do you think live within the boundaries of what was once France?” he asked Daryl. “Starting from sixty-seven million people before the fall, I speculate current French populace is fewer than two-hundred-thousand.”

“I was gonna say way less,” replied Daryl. 

“Much less. Do you know how long it would take to repopulate that many people?”

“No.”

Laurent paused, lowering his gaze to the ground. “Six generations. Perhaps seven. Hurts my stomach just thinking about it.”

“Yeah, the math sucks.”

Another pause, while you seemed to be a ghost in this conversation. You knew that the most likely explanation was that Laurent had probably not grown up knowing many other boys or men, so it made sense that he was eager to speak to Daryl. That, and there was always something about Daryl that children gravitated towards. You found it rather cute, even though most of the time he had no idea how to talk to children. There were even times when he was at a loss for words when speaking to Robin. 

“Do you have children, monsieur? A wife? Parents?”

Daryl’s eyes lifted towards you, his face questioning. You’d yet to discuss with each other the extent to which you’d inform these people of your lives back home. Isabelle already knew of your relationship to one another, but not about your children, or the others back home. She didn’t know about Alexandria. For now, you made up your mind that no one here needed to know of anything besides the fact that you and Daryl were married. 

“I’m his wife,” you said, catching the boy’s attention again. Holding out your hand, you offered a smile. “(Y/N).”

Laurent looked at you again as he shook your hand, much more delicately than he had with Daryl. He seemed more confident with the man, more eager to impress him. With you, he seemed… fragile. 

And now, with the boy’s full attention on you, you found yourself held hostage by his stare―dark and paralyzing. When he let go of your hand, his eyes seemed to fill with sadness, like a kind of grief. 

“You’re homesick,” he said to you. “I see it in your eyes.” 

The smile on your lips melted into a lukewarm puddle on your face. You always knew you tended to wear your emotions on your sleeve, but you’d never met a young child so perceptive. 

“You can tell that just from my eyes?”

“I feel things. In my stomach. I feel your sadness.” 

Breaking the silence that settled between you, a distant voice called out, “Laurent!” and some words in French you didn’t know.

After turning to see the nun calling to him, he turned back to you. “Time for poetry. Père Jean awaits.”

He began to walk away, his Rubik’s cube in hand, but he turned back once more, placing the puzzle on the bench beside Daryl. 

“Now you try,” he said again before finally taking his leave. 

Daryl’s movements were jittery with impatience as he wedged the knife in the doorjamb whilst jiggling the handle in different motions. Meanwhile, you stood watch a few yards away, just in case any passing nuns caught the two of you attempting to get into Père Jean’s study, where the radio sat in waiting. 

It was still daylight, which you found to be a hindrance, but you couldn’t wait much longer for nightfall. Time was something the two of you didn’t exactly have, not when it came to trying to get back home. 

“Clear,” you signed from across the small room that stored the nuns’ weapons. 

Daryl nodded in acknowledgement, then turned his focus back to his so far failed attempts to open the door without a key. With a huff, he continued with different techniques, all of which seemed fruitless. His face contorted in frustration, with impatience seeming to cloud his ability to devise a more clever method. The door simply wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard he strained to get the knife to disturb the locking mechanism. 

Like goddamn Fort Knox, he thought to himself. 

And then, you’re hearing it before your mind or body can react. Daryl is frozen in momentary suspension. You can feel your heart pump faster and your blood quicken. Daryl’s eyes immediately search for you, then his mind races the same way it has a thousand times before as his hand curls tighter around the handle of the knife he purloined. And instinctually, you reach for a weapon that you do not have. 

The growl gets louder, but not closer. It’s not moving. It’s stationary, but taunted. Laurent’s voice is meandering under the guttural groans of the unseen creature. His voice isn’t frightened, though. It’s calm. At ease. 

You didn’t waste another second. 

But before your feet made any forward movement, you felt your right hand now gripping a cylindrical wooden handle. Daryl moved past you once he knew the weapon he’d given you was in your hand―the small warhammer you’d been fixated on earlier.

Following not too far behind Daryl, you rounded the corner out to the courtyard, where you saw Laurent. He was standing in front of an old wooden door with a square barred window. Between the rusty iron bars, a pale, decrepit hand stretched out towards the boy, who seemed all too calm. In Laurent’s hands, a book. It came together now—he was reading to the creature. 

Daryl hurried towards the boy, pulling him away by the shoulder. You stood back, tightening your grip on your weapon. The walker seemed contained, but it reached out with both hands now, growling and snarling at Daryl. 

“What the hell are you doin’?” asked Daryl.

“This is Pére Jean,” replied Laurent, as if it was obvious. “We are waiting for him to rise again.”

Daryl looked from the walker, to Laurent, to you. You could see in his eyes that his tolerance had just run out. Daryl had been prepared to put up with as much as he needed to if it meant getting the two of you back home, but this? 

Well, you and he had seen this kind of thing before, all the way back at the farm. Hershel had been keeping walkers in his barn, most of which had in life been his family or friends, in the hopes that one day there’d be a cure for this disease. He thought they were sick, not dead. Back then, it made a little more sense. It was the beginning, and people were coping with this terrible new world in any way they could. 

Still, Daryl had no room for understanding back then, him being one of the first to lead the charge against exterminating the walkers in the barn. He certainly didn’t have it within him to understand it now, twelve years later, when all who were living should’ve known better. Even nuns.

“Laurent.” Isabelle’s voice echoed softly, but urgently, through the courtyard. She came toward the boy as she spoke to him in French. You figured she dismissed him, because soon he was walking away. Now, her eyes turned to you, then Daryl. 

There was no unsettling calm there now, no more pretense. In this moment, despite your disgust, you felt that this was the sincerest form of her you had seen yet. There was fear in her eyes. Not of you, not of Daryl, and not of the walker. Something else entirely. For the first time since you’d been here, you felt sympathy for her, though you could not place why.

“Let me explain,” she said, but Daryl was already turning, making his way back into the abbey. You followed closely, but with an odd sense of guilt in the pit of your stomach. You pushed it away. Intuition would have to be put on the back burner. Survival was more important.

“You got a lot of witchy shit goin’ on around here.” Daryl pushed open the doors to the room where he’d awoken. Though you followed him, your feet froze in place. Isabelle caught up to him, her face as white as the cloth shrouding her. “Dead priest in a closet and a creepy kid? No thanks.”

You watched Daryl as he gathered his belongings. You felt an incessant pounding inside your head as thoughts ran wild and emotions flooded you. On one hand, you were more than happy to pack up your things and get out of here, but on the other, you wanted to know more about what was going on here. Perhaps it was that curiosity that often got you into trouble, but you couldn’t help it. Maybe seeing the nun’s facade crumble had made you more receptive to the idea of hearing her out. You weren’t sure why. You’d been more than ready to leave this place since the minute you opened your eyes this morning. 

“It’s not what you think,” she said. Her eyes flashed from him to you, as if pleading. There was so much desperation in her, so much that you felt it flooding into you. Whatever she wanted, it was serious. 

“Doesn’t matter what I think. We’re outta here.” Daryl yanked the nightshirt he’d awoken in and stuffed it into the backpack he’d found on the boat. Looking at you from across the room, his gaze was firm. Unyielding. “C’mon,” he said. “Get your stuff. We’re goin’. Now.”

Before you could respond, the doors behind you rattled shut. Isabelle stood in front of the closed doors, blocking your only exit. You knew that you could probably push past her smaller frame if you needed to, and Daryl most certainly could, but her desperation seemed strong enough to put up a fight. 

“You can’t leave. Not without us. We’ve been waiting for you.”

Isabelle’s eyes were locked onto Daryl as she spoke. You looked between the two of them, confused and getting increasingly irritated with Isabelle’s lack of detailed explanation. 

“Waiting for Daryl?” you asked. “What do you mean waiting for him?”

Isabelle’s gaze shifted towards you. “He’s the messenger.” Her eyes were wide and her voice firm with confidence in this statement, as if it meant anything to you or him. 

Daryl paused his hurried packing as he looked over to you. He was just as confused, and just as frustrated. 

“The messenger?” he repeated. 

“To deliver Laurent.”

You let out a huff. “Deliver him? Deliver him where?”

From her pocket she procured a folded piece of parchment. She hastily unfolded the paper as she approached Daryl. “He drew this.” With a low grumble, he took the picture into his hands. 

You side-stepped to place yourself next to Daryl, looking over his shoulder to get a glimpse of whatever madness Isabelle was ranting about. 

The parchment was faded and cracked, but the colored pencil outlined with graphite was new and crisp. The style was simple and childlike, of course, but clearly discernible. Depicted on the page was the body of a man engulfed in blue waves, with his head poking out and resting upon a yellow beach dotted with seashells. It looked as if he was washing onto the shore. The man sported sinuous hairs that reached his shoulder and a cross hatching of lines along his chin that you assumed represented facial hair. 

Had the situation been different, you might’ve found this amusing. After all, the man in the picture was vague looking enough to resemble any man with slightly long hair and a beard. It could’ve been Jesus Christ himself, but Daryl? You would have laughed if you weren’t so conflicted about what to think. Was Isabelle just plain out of her right mind, or was this going to lead to an opportunity to get the two of you home? 

Daryl, however, didn’t have as much of a nuanced reaction as you did. “Yeah, he should stick to math.”

“So, you think this guy in Laurent’s picture… is Daryl?”

Isabelle seemed to ignore your line of questioning, as if it was obvious. “Three weeks ago. Before you came.”

Daryl lifted a black wool coat over his shoulders. “He drew a guy on a beach. So what?”

Once again, Isabelle’s eyes were focused on Daryl. Whatever part you had in this, if any at all, was apparently nowhere near as important as his. You might’ve been slightly offended if you weren’t confused. 

“I saw you fight the Guerrières,” she replied. “I know you can get him there safely.”

You inserted yourself once again, practically jumping in between Isabelle and Daryl. “Get him where?” you asked, or rather, demanded. 

Daryl held up his hand as if to signal her to stop. “I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about,” Daryl said, his voice bordering on exhausted now, as if he was tired of even entertaining this. Daryl turned to you now as he slung one strap of his pack over his shoulder. “(Y/N),” he said, “get your stuff. Seriously.”

Despite your bewilderment laced with a heavy dose of irritation, you couldn’t help but be entranced by the nun’s words. Your curiosity, once again, had gotten the better of you. “Hold on, I want to hear this,” you said, half out of hope that perhaps it could somehow lead you to getting home, and half out of sheer entertainment value. 

Daryl huffed as he shook his head, not ready to argue with you, but ready to move out of this stuffy room and get going, with you kicking and screaming if he had to. 

“Our leader is a Buddhist monk,” Isabelle continued. “He came through on a pilgrimage some years ago. He recognized something in Laurent, an answer to a prophecy.”

“Prophecy?” you asked, but Isabelle once again did not directly indulge your curiosity. Meanwhile, Daryl pushed past you towards the door, though you and he both knew he wasn’t going anywhere without you. 

Isabelle followed Daryl, and you followed swiftly behind. She spoke rapidly, trying to get every last word of context out as if somehow that would persuade him. But you knew Daryl, and you knew that the only way of persuading him to do anything in this situation was if Isabelle offered him some sort of lead regarding your journey home. For your part, you hoped that encouraging her to ramble like her life depended on it would do just that. 

“L’Union has a base up north, a community that will raise and nurture him to be who he was born to be.”

“‘Who he was born to be?’” Daryl repeated, opening the doors into the corridor. 

“Six months ago, Lama Rinpoche said it was time,” she sputtered as she hurried to match Daryl’s longer strides. “Pére Jean was supposed to escort him, but… Well, you saw.”

“Yeah, I did. You got him locked up, thinkin’ the prayers and poetry are gonna fix him.” Daryl turned the corner, into the foyer, and then the armory. 

“Laurent is special,” continued Isabelle. “I think you see that.”

“Do I?”

“His mother died in childbirth,” Isabelle continued. You listened much more intently than Daryl seemed to, but she still spoke directly to him. “He shouldn’t have survived that. It’s a miracle he’s even alive. 

You stood cross-armed, leaning against the wall as you watched Daryl pick through the weapons. The first thing he grabbed was a simple wooden crossbow. It wasn’t at all like his, but the likelihood of ever seeing that crossbow again was next to nothing. He picked up bolts, too, and a morningstar. You never could figure out how to use that thing, despite how many times Daryl had attempted to show you. 

With the morningstar in his hand, he lifted it up to show it to Isabelle, while his eyes still focused on the rest of the weapons laid out before him. He was like a kid in a candy store, though much grumpier. 

“Can I borrow this?” he asked, though he didn’t seem keen on receiving an answer. 

“He’s shown abilities,” Isabelle continued, once again. “Perceptions. Compassion beyond any child.”

Daryl turned with his haul to focus his attention on the weapons behind him. Isabelle seemed to grow frustrated now too, but only just the slightest bit. That calm demeanor was hard to penetrate. 

“He sees into people,” she said more firmly now. You recalled how Laurent had taken one look at you and known exactly what you were feeling. Granted, the rational explanation was that he had known you and Daryl were far from home from talking to Isabelle prior, so it wouldn’t have been a stretch for him to assume that you were, indeed, homesick.

Of course, you thought Robin was very perceptive and emotionally intelligent, too. Robin was special to you, but all mothers believe their children to be special. It was nothing more than a simple personality trait, as far as you were concerned. 

“We used to have a kid like that in grade school,” Daryl remarked. “He used to get his ass kicked a lot.” Daryl unsheathed a dagger as he spoke, then held it up to Isabelle, once again feigning his need for permission. “I’m gonna borrow this too, all right?”

“He needs teaching. Guidance we cannot provide. He’ll be safer there, nurtured… Until he’s ready.”

In one last burst of energized curiosity, you stepped forward to garner Isabelle’s attention. “Ready for what?” you asked, and this time, if Isabelle wasn’t straightforward, you were sure you were about to scream. 

Isabelle’s gaze found you, her eyes ice cold and alert. Circles of pale blue encapsulated sharp black pupils that penetrated your own until you felt like you could see inside her mind if you tried hard enough. She seemed crazed, in a way, but also perfectly sane. Maybe it’s because what she was about to say would sound crazy to you, but to her, it was just logic. 

“To be the new Messiah.”

Your eyes blinked in quick succession, as if to somehow blink away whatever she had just said to you in complete seriousness. You had only mostly been joking with your theories about these nuns being religious wackos. In this particular instance, you hated being proven right. 

“To lead the revival of humanity,” Isabelle added. It did not make you feel any less creeped out.

“Yep,” you said. “We’re out of here.”

The next several moments were a blur, but you soon found yourself watching Daryl yank the keychain from the frantic nun’s belt. He turned towards the door to Pére Jean’s study while she continued to rant about Laurent’s destiny. You couldn’t catch exactly what she was saying as you pushed past her behind Daryl to hurry into the office, your sights set on that radio. 

“Don’t you see?” Isabelle continued, nearly out of breath at this point. “This is why you’re here. This is why you washed ashore. This is why I was on the road that day. This is why you were saved.”

Daryl ignored her, rummaging around the room for anything that might’ve been useful on your journey while you fiddled with a few of the buttons and dials. It didn’t seem to respond to your prodding. 

“Everything happens for a reason,” she added, paying no mind to you and focusing solely on Daryl. 

“Can you fire this thing up?” you asked.

She looked at you in slight confusion, as though she couldn’t fathom your inability to take what she said seriously. You knew she believed it with every fiber in her being, but that didn’t make it true.

“The tube broke a month ago.”

You paused your movements as you processed her words, bile rising up in your esophagus and burning your throat. As for Daryl, he turned with a sharpness that startled even you. 

“What?” he asked. 

Isabelle’s eyes sank so as not to capture the wrath of Daryl’s stare. “I’ve been trying to get a replacement,” she said, more quietly than before.

Your anger was quickly replaced with hopelessness as you stood up and sighed. Of course the one thing that might be of some immediate help in getting you home was not working. 

But Daryl’s anger was potent, more like a searing sting than a raging maelstrom. Still, the storm wasn’t far off. One more inconvenience might tip him over the edge. 

Daryl huffed a chuckle of disbelief, then pointed an accusatory finger at the nun. His voice lowered to a growl as he spoke. “You’ve been fuckin’ with us.”

Silence settled uncomfortably between the three of you. Looking between them, you felt the role of mediator begin to overcome you, whether you liked it or not. “Is there… Is there any way we could find a boat, or maybe some kind of settlement that has a boat? Someone who can get us home?”

You didn’t know what to make of Isabelle’s next period of silence. It was clear that she was thinking, but you could not make heads or tails of what. Perhaps she was thinking of a way for the two of you to get home, or perhaps she was concocting some kind of plan that would get the two of you to do whatever it was she wanted. You didn’t think she would let you go that easily, not with how passionately she spoke just moments ago.

“There’s a port up north that may still be active.”

Daryl jumped in before you could even respond. “Show me.” His arm raised towards the large map of France sprawled out on the wall. 

“Le Havre,” replied Isabelle, and your eyes darted to where she pointed: a star demarcating a city in the north of France, only a stretch of sea separating it from Britain. The city’s name was written in slanted letters that were bigger than the myriad smaller names surrounding it, but less prominent than the not-too-distant PARIS. It must’ve been a rather major city in its heyday.

“We’ve heard rumors of ships that come and go. But it’s just rumors.”

Turning to look at Daryl, you noticed his focus was fixed on the map. His eyes moved quickly over the lines that stretched across the colored surface like veins. His hand floated up to his chin absentmindedly as his mind processed a dozen or so thoughts. You watched his index finger rub against the skin just under his bottom lip, back and forth. You found yourself holding your breath, waiting for him to speak. 

Daryl’s thoughts collided into one, unified by a piece of red thread pinned to the map in a jagged line, surely demarcating some kind of important route. His finger wagged to trace the line in the air as he spoke, “What is this route that’s marked out right here?”

“That’s Pére Jean’s plan to get the boy up north,” replied Isabelle.

You moved closer, your eyes pinpointing various golden pushpins lodged into the thread, each matching up with a town or city noted on the map.

“What do these pins indicate?” you asked. 

“They’re stops,” she answered. “Places where we have friends who can help to connect us, radio frequencies.”

A swell of hope rose up in you as you turned to Daryl with wide, bright eyes. Daryl’s attention was caught by your hand squeezing his forearm, further indicating your renewed vigor. “We can take that route up to the port, honey.”

Isabelle seemed to catch onto your enthusiasm. “It’s a treacherous path north,” she said. “Hard to find your way.” The nun turned to you and Daryl with something almost smug in her voice as she spoke. “Harder if you don’t speak French.”

Your heart sank at her discouragement, but Daryl was unmoving. “Get your stuff,” he said to you. This time, you would do so.

In the room you’d awoken in, you scrambled to compile whatever scraps of clothing you’d picked up on the way here, and whatever was left of the clothes you washed up in. Pivoting your head in all sorts of directions, you searched for the large denim vest you’d been wearing. It was nearly brand new when you’d left home weeks ago, its faded Levi’s tag still hanging on by a thread before you yanked it off. Now, it was torn in more than a few places and stained by blood and oil and God only knew what else. 

But after a few more frantic turns, you spied it folded neatly on a chair across the room. It wasn’t the vest that mattered, though. It was the contents of its inner pocket. 

You hadn’t found yourself the time to check if the photos were still tucked in where they’d been before, but you figured now was as good a time as any. 

With a sigh of relief, you removed the Polaroids from the pocket, zipped up and sealed away from the sea water that had engulfed you in the chaos of that night. 

Some water had come through, but not enough to mar the image of Robin holding baby Westley in her arms, or Dog and Robin playing in a pile of leaves as Daryl watched in amusement. Every photograph revived another memory as you flipped through them, until the images were clouded by your tears. 

That was another reason you’d been dreading checking your pocket―the inevitable sadness that would overcome you if you saw what you’d so foolishly left behind. 

It hadn’t been for nothing, of course. You’d never leave home for nothing. It was for Michonne, for Rick. That was the point of all this, and look where it had gotten you. And there was so much to scold yourself for.

For letting Daryl go. 

For agreeing to go with him when he asked.

For wanting to be a better wife in the place of being a better mother.

Or at least, that’s what you saw it as now. Why couldn’t you let him go alone? After all, he’d gone out alone more times than you could count ever since the prison. You weren’t a stranger to the concept of Daryl leaving you for sometimes weeks at a time, but this time was different. Daryl had asked you to go. Wanted you to go. You’d joked that it was like a vacation, but it wasn’t. Both of you knew that. 

But a part of you was glad you’d gone. If Daryl had gotten into this mess himself, you knew yourself enough to know that you would’ve gone after him anyway, leaving the children in Alexandria no matter what. It was inevitable, you supposed. You hated it. The idea of them alone terrified you, though you hadn’t let yourself dwell on it much until now. 

And that’s when your breathing became rapid, your heart pounding while every hair on your body stood on end as you thought of every horrible thing that could possibly happen while you were gone. Each second you stood here was another moment in which the unthinkable could happen to everyone and everything you loved. Hot tears seemed to burn their way down your cheeks, despite how hard you tried to hold them back. A pointless endeavor.

Just as you began to let yourself cry, to let yourself fully feel the weight of what you’d let happen, you heard your name on Daryl’s voice, calling to you from outside. “Let’s go!” he called out.

You swiped your face with your sleeve, and swallowed the unborn tears. 

Outside, you lugged your bag over your shoulder to meet up with Daryl, who stood outside near the front gate. Isabelle stood facing him, while the other nuns, perhaps a dozen or so of them, scattered about as if to watch the outsiders leave. Entertainment, you supposed. Or maybe a way to make sure the two of you were really gone.

Laurent was there, too, and you heard him say something to Daryl, but by the time you made it within earshot, he was quiet. 

“It ain’t my problem,” Daryl said to Isabelle, and that was all you could catch of their conversation. 

The nun’s face looked dejected, hopeless. Though you’d felt mostly annoyed with the woman throughout your stay thus far, even though the reasons weren’t very justified, you couldn’t help but feel sympathy. Perhaps you had no idea what she was going through, nor she you, but at least you could understand her sadness, for whatever it was worth.

“Thank you,” you said, trying to make up for Daryl’s lack of manners. “For helping us.”

Isabelle smiled softly, but there was still a great sadness in her eyes. Daryl made his way towards the heavy wooden door that separated the abbey from the outside world, expecting you to follow.

“And, um… good luck. With everything.”

She only nodded in response, which you took as your signal to leave. 

A dirt road made by tire tracks in the ground led the two of you away from the abbey, into the surrounding woods. Maybe less than a mile or so had you walked in near silence, only the sound of gravel underfoot, until you spoke.

“You know, you could’ve at least said thank you.”

Daryl’s brows knit together as he looked at you. “What?”

“Back at the abbey. I don’t like the woman very much but she might’ve saved our lives, especially yours. She let us take weapons, food for the road…”

“Pfft,” he scoffed. “You on a high horse now?”

Smiling, you shook your head. “No, I just… I don’t know. They might be crazy but at least they helped us.”

“Yeah, helped us ‘cause they think I’m The Messenger.” Daryl’s voice rose as he mimicked Isabelle’s words. You snorted and lightly shoved his shoulder with yours.

“Mm, yeah. You notice how everyone there was super interested in you, but not in me?”

One corner of Daryl’s lips curled every so slightly as he looked at you with playful, but tired, eyes. “You jealous again?”

“No,” you laughed. “Well, I mean…”

Your voice trailed off as the sound of distant engines grew louder with each moment that passed. Daryl looked back towards the abbey, but it wasn’t coming from that direction. He turned the other way, and sure enough, it was coming closer—towards the two of you.

There were no words exchanged in this moment, only the feeling of Daryl’s hand grasping your wrist and pulling you to the side of the road, into the wild shrubbery. 

Peering through the gently rustling leaves, you watched as a caravan of vehicles zoomed past, heading towards the abbey. You recognized the military-grade jeeps, their insignia painted in white flashing by fast but just enough that you could recognize it from yesterday. It must’ve been the same group that had attacked you, and if it was, then that would undoubtedly spell trouble for the nuns.

Daryl’s eyes were locked onto the caravan until it disappeared into the overgrown woods that shrouded the walls of the abbey. His mind was at war within itself, thoughts of making a break for it with you and leaving the nuns to their fate battling with the moral dilemma that would inevitably haunt him if he did so. And then there was you, of course, who he knew would be against the idea, tempting as it was. 

But of course he couldn’t do that. The nuns were well-equipped thanks to the armory, but clearly not experienced in fighting living human beings with automatic weapons. Simple firearms and medieval weapons in the hands of even the most experienced fighter would still be challenged against such a militarized force. 

“They’re heading for the abbey,” you said quietly, your voice barely rising above the now distant grumbling of engines. “If we start back now, we can catch up to them before―”

“Nah,” he replied. He looked at you for a moment, watching your face go from confused to annoyed very quickly. “You stay here, I’ll go.”

After over ten years together, you’d think he’d understand that that simply wasn’t how this was going to work, but he had to try. 

You tilted your head in questioning. “You’re joking, right?”

He wasn’t.

After some whisper-bickering on the way back to the abbey, the two of you had come to an agreement that you’d wait just outside the front gate, ready to come to Daryl’s aid if he had been gone a suspiciously long time or if you heard something going awry. Daryl had managed to somehow convince you that only one of you going in made more sense than both of you risking your lives for the nuns, but you weren’t exactly happy about it. Any situation which alleviated Daryl’s stress was bound to send yours off the charts.

If you’d had a watch, you might’ve timed him, but alas. All you could do was count the seconds in your head, and keep your eyes and ears open. Leaning against the brick wall, you huffed out an exasperated breath as you squeezed the handle of your hammer with both hands. After a while, you had half a mind to go in there despite nothing particularly alarming happening, until the first gunshot. 

Meanwhile, Daryl kept his back pressed against the wall beside the door to the room he’d awakened in. His eyes were focused on the pointed end of the bayonet that slowly inched its way through the doorway, but not very far.

He lifted an axe he’d “borrowed” from the armory and brought it down swiftly upon the bayonet, disarming and momentarily startling the young man who’d held it. Daryl quickly pinned him against the door, then from the corner of his eye, another figure caught his attention. 

The man raised a handgun and pointed it in Daryl’s direction, but Daryl was quick enough to use the other man as a human shield, his back absorbing the bullets that were fired. Throwing the lifeless body to the side, Daryl lunged forwards to strike the man across the face and knock the gun loose from his hand. He threw another punch, this time propelling the man backwards until he landed upon a table. Daryl came forward to further incapacitate him, but he was able to kick Daryl back with great force.

Daryl stumbled back several feet, but did not fall. This man was strong, and wouldn’t go easily. That much was evident. 

Now with the upper man, the man forced Daryl against the wall, delivering several hits to his stomach before turning him and throwing him hard against the floor. A few particularly frustrated kicks were administered to his abdomen, accompanied by loud grunts to further illustrate the Frenchman’s frustration. 

Finally, the man let up, only to turn and retrieve his discarded handgun. 

In the courtyard, you rushed past a bloodied scene of several nuns’ bodies, as well as those of most of the men from the caravan, strewn over the stones of the pathway. With your axe held firmly, you called out to Daryl, looking wide-eyed around the once peaceful abbey. 

You did not find Daryl, but Isabelle, her flowing white figure turning to look at you as she processed the sound of your voice. You ran towards her, noticing the shock and distress upon her features. Coming closer, you took her wrist into a firm grasp, as if to not let her get away. 

“Where’s Daryl? Did you see him?”

She did not speak for a moment, only nodding rapidly as she began to awaken from her shocked stupor. 

“Yes… H-he went inside. This way.”

Daryl’s life flashed before his eyes, or so it seemed. Of course, that had happened many times before, but this time, he was sure it was the real thing as the Frenchman stood above him, the barrel of his gun perfectly aimed between Daryl’s widened eyes. In a knee-jerk reaction, he held up his hands as if to block the bullet, but it did not matter…

Rounding the corner and stumbling into the hall, you saw the scene for yourself. Without hesitation, you bolted towards the man, axe held high and all your strength channeled into that swing. 

Bringing down the axe, you hit the hand that held the gun, causing the man to grunt in pain. The blade might’ve been too dull to cause any irreversible damage, but it was enough to disarm him and to send him backwards, away from Daryl. 

The force of your attack sent even you spinning backwards, but you quickly oriented yourself with the intention of striking the man again, though he’d been quick enough to start making a run for the exit. 

Daryl wasted no time in retrieving the gun, coming back up to his feet after the wind had been knocked out of him and into another dimension. Aiming the gun, he shot. 

His aim, though, was less than stellar, given the state of his swimming head. The bullet struck the man only in the shoulder, sending him only slightly stumbling as he continued dashing towards the foyer. 

As you both followed behind, you were met with a still bewildered Isabelle and a frantic older nun, who practically threw herself in front of Daryl as he tried to aim the gun towards the escapee once more. 

“Please. Please. Please, please!” she repeated emphatically, her hands at one point grabbing Daryl with what little strength she had. “Show mercy!”

Daryl, of course, ignored these pleas. As far as he was concerned, these people were not deserving of something that even the most good-hearted of people were so rarely afforded in this world. He continued on to chase after the man, and you were set to follow, but suddenly, you saw the older nun begin to tremble, her legs seeming to fold underneath her. 

Isabelle moved quickly to stabilize her, but gravity was beckoning her weak body. You hesitated for a moment, fighting the urge to help the nun as well as the urge to follow Daryl and make sure he didn’t get himself in trouble again. Your heart, however, kept your eyes glued to Isabelle and the older woman as she struggled to keep her steady. 

Dropping your axe, you moved to the shaky nun’s other side to hold her weight, taking some burden off Isabelle. Looking around, your eyes fixed onto the nearest perch—the stone steps at the base of the staircase.

“There,” you said, nudging your head towards the stairs. “She needs to sit down.”

The two of you helped the nun to the steps, sitting her down gently between you. She naturally leaned herself against Isabelle, who wrapped her arm around her. You took a moment to look her over, noticing blood pooling in her abdomen. Isabelle moved her hand over the wound, but both of you knew there was nothing that could be done. It was too deep, and too much blood had already been lost. Even now, you could see the color of the older woman’s face, which once might’ve been so full of life, draining to a ghastly pallor. 

Still, you had to try. 

Taking off your jacket, you were about to press it to the wound, but the nun shook her head and looked at you, her eyes with a familiar dullness that you’d seen before in those near death.

“No,” she said. “It is my time… There is no use.”

Just then, Daryl returned, appearing slightly defeated after the man he’d given chase to had escaped. He came closer, kneeling next to you. The nun reached out a shaky hand towards him. He hesitated for just a moment, then reached his own hand out to meet hers. 

“You don’t believe,” she said. “Maybe you never saw a reason to. But one thing I know… reasons are everywhere.”

You watched night fall from your room, the same one you’d awoken in. Daryl had insisted you rest after burying the nuns that had fallen, of which only two remained: Isabelle, of course, and Sylvie. Laurent had been spared, too, much to your relief. But it seemed yours and Daryl’s fates were tied much closer to these new acquaintances than you’d realized. The events of that day had proven as much. 

As you watched the flame of a nearby candle dance with languid melancholy, the door to the room creaked open slowly. You turned on your side to face the door to be met with Daryl, his tired face illuminated by a gold flicker. He looked defeated, as he had been, but with a nearly imperceptible glimmer of hope in his eyes. You might not have noticed if you hadn’t seen it before, but you had, and it intrigued you.

“What is it?”

He sat on the edge of the small bed where you laid, his hand resting on your thigh over the threadbare blanket that covered you. He took a deep breath, which spoke of conflicted emotions, followed by his hoarse, tired voice.

“We’re takin’ them to the port.”

You sat up slightly, intrigued by this news. “We are?”

“Yeah… Figured we ain’t got much of a choice.”

You nodded, agreeing that taking Laurent to this “sanctuary” that Isabelle spoke of was probably your best bet for getting home, even if it wasn’t ideal to have to worry about three other people. 

“I guess it’s sort of a win-win situation. We help them get to where they want to go, and they help us get to where we want to go.” 

“Guess so.”

Silence settled in between you, its presence heavy and filled with words unspoken. You sat up fully, reaching out to touch his shoulders. They were as strong as always, but slumped over slightly. This all weighed so heavily on him, the responsibility. It always does. You knew that he’d never forgive himself, but you could try to reassure him, like you always did.

“None of this is your fault,” you said, knowing that it was what he needed to hear. You leaned closer, pressing yourself against his back and resting your chin upon his shoulder. Your arms wrap around his waist as tightly as they can. This might have been the most intimate you’ve been with him since washing ashore here. It was certainly the closest you’ve felt to him since.

And he felt an immense weight lift off his shoulders, one which he knows will inevitably return, but in this moment, it’s dissipated completely. His body sunk into your embrace, and the tightness in his chest is relieved by a long, deep breath. It’s not just your touch that eased his mind, but your words. Every part of him wanted to object because he knew deep down that it was his fault. It was hard for him to even imagine that it wasn’t. Still, to know that you didn’t blame him, that you still loved him… It made the load he will always carry feel lighter. 

“We will get home. I know it.” 

You punctuated your statement with a firm kiss to his cheek. His head turned slowly towards yours, his lips meeting yours in a more urgent kiss, one that felt like a promise. Daryl could always say more with his body than with his words, and that’s what he did now—he pulled you closer, now locked in his embrace. His mouth did not separate from yours even for a moment. There was devotion in his kiss, in his hands as they crept up your back and moved up and down in slow, firm caresses. Words couldn’t communicate what he told you with one embrace, but you knew that no matter what fate had in store for you, Daryl would rearrange the stars to change the course of destiny as long as it meant the two of you would make it home. Together.

When your lips separated, you were lost in his eyes, so familiar, like they were windows through which you could see Robin and Wes, waiting patiently in the living room for their parents’ return. If you looked long enough, you were sure you could see yourself and Daryl coming in through the front door to be greeted with open arms.

~

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter ➳

[dellalalakang]

triple n: RIP kang della

masterlist | main masterlist

— lhs, pjs, sjy, psh —

well.......

contains: fivesome. really rough (choking, slapping, etc.), DELLA HAS AN IUD!!, della getting absolutely manhandled, her hands gets restrained for a bit, BUT THEN THERE IS A BIT OF DOM!DELLA ACTION, double penetration (as in anal), tiiiiiny bit of breeding kink, kitten as a nickname kink, daddy kink (sorry guys lol ik i said i wouldn't but i can't help it), i also said that they're never goofy during sex but we have the 02z in one session y'all— it's bound to get a little silly, LONGEST FIC I'VE WRITTEN (7.3k WORDS), longest + most detailed + most insane smut i've ever written omg i dont think i will EVER top this

happy belated anniversary my darlings 🤍 happy two years to della and her men (and alice) ✨

AND HAPPY ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY TO ENHA'S (5/8) LOSS IN NNN! this chapter takes place on midnight 2022/11/11 (so i kinda thought that was today bcs dumbo self messed up the dates so i'm one day late but it's all good)

hi guys! i missed you! i will try to reply to asks soon! i'm so sorry for disappearing again, life has been rough and moving too fast 😭 DID NOT PROOFREAD BECAUSE I AM EMBARRASSED

Kang Della is going to die tonight.

While not literally, she was definitely going to be reborn as a new woman.

"Lala, stop praying. You're not actually gonna die," Sunoo said, more interested in his phone than his overreacting girlfriend. "You're gonna have so much fun, and we have the day off tomorrow. It'll be great."

"Sunoo shut up and help me pray," Della herself was already dressed, cleaned up and ready to head out.

But certainly not ready to meet the hyuppas.

"Why are we even praying when you're going to be doing something so sinful?"

There were three possible outcomes from tonight; One, the hyuppas being so annoyed that they prefer to ignore her for a bit. Though that is just her anxiety talking.

Two, they would take turns with her for four days straight. Which also means that she would have a limp and some back pain for a week or so.

Or three, they would all have their way with her, at the same time.

And the last option seems to be the most likely.

❅◦❆◦❅◦❆◦❅◦❆◦❅◦❆

"Oh, hi! Oppa! Really funny seeing you here but Sunghoon-oppa asked for beer, so here—" Jake immediately pulled Della into his room before she could escape from what was coming.

"You're in massive trouble, young lady," the girl would've laughed if the situation wasn't as serious. Who actually says that sentence in real life? Sim Jaeyun, apparently.

"Oh, wow! All the hyuppas are here!" Della laughed nervously. "Seems like you guys are preparing to have a celebration together! Wouldn't want boring 'ole Della making things all boring!" 

The stern look on all four men made Della withdraw into herself. She avoided eye contact by playing with her nails, mentally preparing herself for the scolding.

"Kang Della, sit down," Heeseung ordered, gesturing the couch with his eyebrows.

"Ah.. I really need to my room though, Yunji-unnie's waiting for me," Della hopes that she could somehow avoid the earful, though it is looking very improbable. "So I'm just here to hand over the beer and—" she gasped when Jay slowly took her hands and held them behind her back like a criminal.

"Do you know how hard it was to wait for you?" he said in a low tone. "The only reason why we did this stupid challenge was because of you."

Jay's deep voice caused Della's skin to erupt in goosebumps. She bit her lip as her heart started pumping faster. She tried to look into his eyes but quickly adverted her gaze when she saw how handsome he looked with his expression. She could feel herself getting wet again.

"The fucking audacity you had to lose to someone who wasn't even a part of this bullshit of a challenge," Sunghoon walked over and held her face with both hands. He noticed a familiar scent within the proximity. "You've been fucking drinking too. You did a lot with Sunoo, huh?" 

She had forgotten about the alcohol in her system, now understanding why her brain seems so hazy. She barely drank anything, but she is a major lightweight. The drink Sunoo gave her, mixed with the lack of sexual attention (and undeniably, Sunoo's seduction) must be why she lost the game so easily.

"I wasn't thinking straight. I didn't plan it or anything. Honest!" she replied with puppy eyes. While the look stirred something inside Sunghoon, it certainly wasn't sympathy. 

"Even if you didn't plan it, you still did it, didn't you?" he asked in an eerily calm voice. "You can't really take it back now, can you?" he brushed her bangs back but kept his hold firm. "Even if it was silly little foreplay."

Everything Sunghoon did just made her core uncomfortably wet. She was embarrassed to clutch her legs tighter but her mind was just occupied with how stunning he looked and how hot his words were.

"No," Della whined, shamelessly staring at his lips. "I'm sorry, oppas."

"Do you know what's gonna happen now?" Sunghoon asked, staring at her lips as well.

"Am I getting punished?" Della bit her lip at the thought.

"You're gonna deal with us four, yeah? We've been stupidly waiting for over a week," Sunghoon caressed her cheeks before forcefully making her look at the two boys on the bed. "Look at them. We all deserve to be relieved from this challenge, hm?" he whispered in her ear.

"Nghh," Della whined at the sight of Jake and Heeseung. They were sitting on the joint bed with a can of beer in their hands. They were intently staring at the three of them, anticipating their next moves and patiently waiting for their turn. They knew that hard-dom Sunghoon would be the best at disciplining Della in bed, while romantic Jay would really show her just how serious they are.

"Do you think you can do that?" Sunghoon whispered again, causing Della to gulp and nod her head. "Use your words."

"I'm gonna deal with all four of you," she said timidly. She has never handled more than two people before, and now she's jumping straight to four.

But she is excited. Extremely excited.

"Good girl," Jay kept his hold with one hand, using the other to stroke her hair. "Your safe word today is red and yellow, okay? Regardless of Korean or English."

"Okay, oppa," Della closed her eyes at the gentle kiss Jay left on her hair. Suddenly all the nerves left and she's just left with pure anticipation.

"Good girl," although the words were identical to Jay's, Sunghoon's praise sounded rougher, more possessive. "Now come here."

Sunghoon connected his lips to hers hungrily while his hands moved to grope her bare breasts under her pyjama top. 

Jay let out a small smirk, his hands busily tying her wrists with the neck tie he prepared. His recently free hands then moved to unbutton her top, helping Sunghoon get easier access.

"You're not wearing a fucking bra. Sunoo must've enjoyed these babies, huh?" Jay said against her neck as his hands replaced Sunghoon's. The latter's opted to move down and roam his hands on Della's hourglass figure.

"Did he? Answer Jay," Sunghoon mumbled on her lips before shifting his kisses to her neck.

"No, he didn't," Della whimpered at the stimulation. Her legs were now almost crossed at how eager she is for some sort of sexual activity.

"Aish, that kid," Jay cursed, pulling away from Della to grab himself a beer. "Won 3N but didn't even fully enjoy it," he then pat Heeseung's shoulder and sat down beside Jake. "Tag. You're it."

Heeseung smirked, taking a big swig of his drink before making his way to Dehoon. With some liquid courage, he knew that they would all have a long, wild night ahead of them. They all definitely need a few cans because they desperately need this.

"You could've tagged me, y'know?" Jake pointed at his roommate.

"Shut up," Jay sipped his drink. "Just go over and join them– who's stopping you?"

"Nah, I'm actually enjoying the view," the younger laid back and rested his upper body weight on his forearm. The two watched as Sunghoon pulled away as soon as he noticed Heeseung.

"I told you to sit down, didn't I?" Heeseung practically mumbled, using his free hand to push her down onto the couch. "Why didn't you listen to me but obeyed Sunghoon and Jongseong?"

Della's mouth watered at the angle. If her instincts were correct, she was gonna suck someone off, most probably Heeseung. 

And she absolutely loves giving head.

Heeseung especially tends to let out these adorable sounds that are music to her ears. She knows that he will try to hold them back since they're not alone, but she is determined to have this gorgeous man let loose of his (almost) equally gorgeous noises.

"I'm sorry, oppa," the lower angle made Della's puppy eyes look even more cute. "I was just nervous."

"You know what those eyes do to me," Heeseung ran a thumb over her lip. "Should we forgive her, Sunghoon?" he sucked in a breath when she took his thumb into her mouth to suck gently.

"We'll see about that," a loud zipper sound filled the room as Sunghoon aggressively undid his pants. "Open up," and his cock was in front of Della's face in no time.

She did not need to be told twice. Her eyes instantly closed as her tongue swirled around the tip. She played around with it for a few seconds before pushing it all the way to the back of her throat.

"Fuckkk, I missed this," Sunghoon threw his head back. "So fucking good," he bit his lip harshly.

Upon the sight, Heeseung hurriedly lowered his sweatpants with one hand, but struggled to get his hard-on out from the tightness of his boxers. He eventually succeeded once Sunghoon helped by taking the beer out of his hands.

"Pay attention to hyung too," Sunghoon said and took a large gulp of the liquid. 

Della wasted no time in having Heeseung inside her mouth with her tongue swirling around the girth. She didn't care as her hair got everywhere.

"Thereee you go," Heeseung grunted, pushing the hair behind her shoulders and brushed her bangs back . "Ah fuck!" he bit his lip to try and contain his sounds.

"Ya– I meant divide your attention, not completely move on to him," Della gasped as Sunghoon pulled her hair so she could come back to him. "Back and forth, baby, you can do it."

It is definitely difficult. Della has never given head with her hands tied before, let alone with two dicks.

But if the boys know anything about their baby, they'll know that she is not a quitter; she will persist until she's absolutely certain she can't.

She bobbed her head two times on Sunghoon before switching back to Heeseung to repeat her movements, and doing the same to Sunghoon again. The perspective was so hot that Sunghoon's breath turned heavy and Heeseung's moans were audible again.

Jay and Jake, on the other hand, were getting a bit impatient because they could barely see anything. Sunghoon could almost sense it, and as he turned his head to look at his two best friends, he found Jake fiddling with his can while Jay tapped his hand in wait.

"Hyung, let's move to the bed," Sunghoon breathed out, pulling Della away from him and up from the sofa. Della whined at the loss but let herself be moved around like a doll. "Be fucking patient. You were willing to wait for a month, you can definitely handle a few seconds," Sunghoon slapped her lightly.

DellaTheMasochist only gave him an annoyed look with a bratty pout, making him slap her once more. 

"Oh you're gonna be a little brat, huh? I'll deal with you fucking later," he then carefully pushed her to Jay's arms, causing Della to smile in adoration. No matter how rough sex is with Sunghoon, he's still a huge softy.

"Well hello there," Jay caught her with one hand. "Were you being a bit bratty?" he asked while fixing her hair gently.

"No, never," Della shook her head innocently. Sunghoon grinned as he opened himself a can, sitting on the bed beside Heeseung. 

Her absolute brattiness only comes out to Sunghoon. She's an angel with Jay, putty with Jake, and a dominant with Heeseung.

"Of course not, you're our princess," Jay breathed down her neck and captured a nipple in his mouth. He blindly handed Jake his drink so he could use both hands to hug her waist. He spent a few minutes slowly enjoying her boobs, leaving hickeys all around the area. 

The three knew that Jay liked his intimacy, so they didn't interrupt.

He eventually laid her between himself and Jake, opting to just stroke her hair for now. Della was settling into a more comfortable position when Jay noticed that Jake's hands were now free from the cans he was holding. 

He gestured for the Aussie to begin, eliciting a grin from Jake before hovering above Della.

"Hi, baby," Jake whispered. His attractive face and accent left a small blush to her cheeks. "I missed you," he connected their lips together in a steamy kiss. 

The thing with Dake is that they don't always have a clear dominant in the bedroom. Most times it's Jake while others it's Della. What's crystal is that they are really passionate together. Practically straight out of an erotic movie.

"I'm still annoyed about Triple N but I miss you too much to fucking care right now," he ran his hands down from her sides, eventually tugging her shorts and panties down as far as he could. "Just wanna devour you."

He then proceeded to make his way down until he was off the bed with his face in between her legs. He completely got rid of her lower garments and took a deep breath, biting his lip before diving into her heat. One of his favourite things to do with her, and something that she desperately needed.

"Ah fuck!" Della threw her head back, pressing her thighs against his head. "Ahhh Jakey!" she whined. 

"Sensitive babyy," Jay cooed and held her face with his hand. "You almost gave this up for a month, you know?" he left small kisses all over her face.

"November's my birthday month, she ain't gonna give this up for the whole thirty," Jake pulled back slightly to comment. With his accent and slight mumbling, Jay could barely understand what he was saying. Della, however, understood perfectly.

"I told you that I would give you an exception, right?" Della's answer just connected the dots for Jay. Big mistake.

"You promised him an exception?" Jay halted his caresses to seriously ask. But Jake had resumed his mission, and Della is far too distracted to answer. "Fucking answer me– you gave him an exception?" he tightened his grip on her face.

"Y-yeah, for his birthday," Jay let out a scoff at her answer and humourlessly chuckled.

"I was gonna go easy on you and let these guys do their own thing," his voice turned rough, something he didn't think he would do tonight. "But you were gonna give Jake an exemption and that– pay attention," he slapped her lightly when she moaned to his face. 

"Sorry, oppa," Della whined, finding it difficult to concentrate when Jake's mouth was pleasuring her so well.

"It pisses me off," Jay whispered roughly. "Instead of just calling the challenge off, you were gonna make the three of us wait 'til the end," he smirked at how hard she was struggling to contain her sounds of pleasure. He let go of her roughly to sit up."Sorry man, I gotta take it from here," he pat Jake's shoulder. 

"Mmkay," Della moaned loudly when Jake gave out one last suck to her clit. "I call dibs on cleaning her off though," he smiled widely while licking his wet lips.

"Deal," Jay immediately flipped Della over onto her stomach. "Tsk tsk tsk, Lala..." he swiftly took his shorts and boxers off in one go. "Stay down," he firmly instructed as he removed her restrains.

The three boys couldn't stop the grin when they watched Jay unleash his beast. The Jay they've seen before was nowhere near as aggressive.

"Have fun, bro," Sunghoon hollered. "Have fun, princess," he toasted his beer at Della when she made eye contact.

"I'm gonna fuck you now, yeah?" Jay whispered in her ear. He noticed the goosebumps that rose on her back as he was lifting her hips and parting her legs. "Hold on tight," he warned, handing her a pillow.

He bit the bottom of his sleeveless shirt just so he could get a clearer look of his shaft rubbing against her folds. 

"Aghh," both Della and Jay groaned when his full length entered her. "Fuckk!" after ten days, he knew he had to let Della adjust a little. Yet he also knew that she didn't need long based on how wet she is and how Sunoo had prepped her.

So not long after, he pulled back and thrusted into her. Hard.

"Ngghhh!" Della squeezed her eyes shut while tightly hugging the pillow. "Oppaaa!" she moaned loudly.

"God! I fucking missed this!" Jay grumbled out. The cloth was no longer in his mouth and he had his head thrown back. "Fuck!"

He kept his hands on her hips as he pounded into her. Slow, but powerful thrusts.

"Ahhh! Oppaaaa!" Della continued to moan loudly. "Oh my God!" she realised how noisy she was being, so she began to muffle her sounds into the pillow.

"Oh no you don't," Jay grunted. Instead of taking the pillow away from her, he decided to flip her onto her back. Essentially switching to the missionary position. "Oh hi there, sweetie," he smirked at her, leaning down to place a kiss on her lips. "Hold on," he forcefully placed her hands on his shoulders before resuming his thrusts.

"Shit!" Della gasped, struggling to maintain eye contact with Jay as he continued to fuck her in the same manner. "Jay-oppaaa!" she practically screamed. Her nails starting holding on for dear life, scratching the skin of his biceps and her mouth was stuck open with nonstop moans.

The three other boys were turned on as hell.

Jake kept adjusting the bulge in his pants while Sunghoon and Heeseung had to constantly shift in their seats.

Waiting was especially hard for Heeseung as he barely got to touch Della in ten days. So he downed two cans and working on his third in no time, making him slightly tipsy and extremely impatient. 

And the sight of her mouth opening just reminded him of something.

"That's it," he crawled across to Jella's side of the bed. "Sunghoon said we were moving to the bed, so you're not done sucking me off," he sat on his knees beside Della's. "Sorry, Jongseong-ah," he breathed out and helped guide Della's mouth to his length.

"By all means, hyung," Jay pulled away and halted his movement to let Della find a comfortable position. "You better do your best. We know you can do it, baby," he whispered to Della, taking off his shirt as he waited.

"Shittt!" Heeseung moaned practically straight after Della's mouth wrapped around him. "There you go, baby– just like that," he assisted by thrusting so that all she had to do was just suck around him and pump what she can't.

"I'll start moving again," Jay began thrusting as soon as he alerted Heela. "Aghh," he grunted, furrowing his eyebrows together. The view of Della sucking someone off in front of him just made him want to fuck her even harder.

He needs to hear her moans even if they were muffled.

"Ahh! Lala!" Heeseung whined when Della kept moaning around him. "Just like that! Sooo good! Nghh!"

Since his mind was foggy from the alcohol, he didn't even bother to hold back on his moans. Even when they start to get a little too subby.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon and Jake wanted to join in so badly, but fear that they would overwhelm their baby. Though they can't just sit there and do nothing.

So they decided to devise a plan for when their turn comes.

"Have you... ever done anal?" Sunghoon awkwardly asked Jake after covering his dick with a pillow. "Like do it from the butt?"

"Me or Della?" Jake's question made the ice prince slap his arm.

"Della, of course," Sunghoon scolded.

"Ack! No– I just gotta make sure I understood what you meant," Jake explained. "No, we haven't."

"I have and I brought condoms and lube," Sunghoon pointed at his luggage. "So here's the thing... Della has been quite curious to try like.. two people.. like.." Sunghoon tried to find the words to explain it in a way that Jake would understand, knowing that the guy mostly knows English sexual terms.

"Like at the same time? Double?" Jake asked while bringing his hands up for gesture.

"Uh, double," Sunghoon nodded, instantly feeling awkward again. "Do you... wanna try it with me? It's her first time and maybe you can do the... back because you've never tried it before."

Jake was quick to make up his mind, all thanks to the two beers he had downed.

"Let's do it," he raised his hand to dap Sunghoon up. "Jellahoon, am I right?"

"Of course," Sunghoon grinned.

"Fuck! I can't cum already!" Heeseung grit his teeth and slowed down his hips. "Lalaaa," he whined.

It was then when Della finally pulled away from the blowjob. She looked into his eyes whilst her hand kept pumping his shaft.

"Heeseung, babyy. What did I tell you about holding back?" she forced herself to restrain her moans just so she could remind him who's in charge.

Fortunately, Jay, who was finding the exchange amusing (also wanting Della all to himself during his orgasm), had slowed down his thrusts to help her focus.

"To never do that because only bad boys hold back," Heeseung's rational thoughts went straight out the window. He was fully going to show his dongsaengs that Lee Heeseung is a sub. A major one. "But I'm not even inside you yet!"

"Come here, baby," Della got up from her position. "I'll be back," she placed a quick kiss on Jay's lips. 

"Go ahead," Jay was so intrigued at his hyung and girlfriend's new side that he didn't care about his delayed orgasm— as long as he gets it straight after Heeseung reaches his.

"Poor babyy," Della cooed at Heeseung, brushing his hair back. "Why don't you sit comfortably and let Lala do the work?"

The 02z watched in amazement as they discover how their hyung is actually like in bed. They watched him obey Della's instructions like clockwork, as if he's done this a million times.

He rested his back against the pillows with his legs ajar. His large bambi eyes were stuck on Della the whole time, looking absolutely lovestruck.

"Take off your shirt," Della pointed lazily, getting on top of his lap. "You're a good boy, right?" she connected their foreheads together and aligned him to her entrance. 

All Heeseung could do was nod enthusiastically.

"Then don't hold back," Della whispered before sliding down on his length. 

"Ahh!" both Heeseung and Della let out high-pitched moans. As Della bounced up and down, Heeseung's hands automatically went to wrap around her waist.

"Sh-shit!" Heeseung hugged her tighter while squeezing his eyes shut. Because he was already close earlier, it took no time for him to reach that point again. "Lalaaa!"

"Feel so good, Heeseung– ahhh!" when it comes to Heeseung, Della (most of the time) tries to compose herself. She's taking care of him after all.

"Shit– is that what it looks like when Della rides you?" Sunghoon asked under his breath. "That's fucking hot."

His hand then tried to secretly stimulate himself, making sure that neither Jake or Jay could notice. Jay, on the other hand, was openly pumping himself, not caring that his best friends could be looking.

"Damn, you're pretty big, bro," Jake suddenly blurted out at Jay. "Nice one."

"Thanks, I guess," Jay chuckled and kept moving his hand, not feeling awkward in the slightest.

"Why were you looking at his dick?" Sunghoon snickered, but that brought Jake's attention to him and that's when the latter noticed his sneaky hand.

"Why are you secretly jacking off? Just do it like Jay, no balls!" Jake slapped his calf. "We're literally in the middle of a fivesun—"

"Fivesome," Jay corrected him.

"Fivesome!"

"Ew, no! I feel so exposed! Like I'll be jerking off in front of you!" Sunghoon completely removed his hand from his dick. "And it's easy for you to say! You're still fully clothed!"

"It's not like we've never seen you naked bef–"

"02z, if you're not gonna suck each other off then shut the fuck up," Della interrupted their bickering while making eye contact. "Your hyung's trying to cum in peace."

"Yes ma'am," "Sorry," "Sorry," they all apologised quietly, hoping that no one notices their erection hardening even more. They hate admitting their thirst for Della's dominance. 

Or to be accurate; They love her dominance, yet hate admitting their desire to be like Heeseung.

But it's not like the 02z have never been docile to DommeDella. 

"Sunghoon, don't be fucking weird or I'll repeat last month's occurrences," Della's threat immediately made Sunghoon's skin erupt in goosebumps. He just hopes that she won't elaborate and reveal to his friends what exactly happened.

Thankfully, she didn't.

"Are you okay, baby?" Della went back and cooed to Heeseung, keeping her pace steady as she cradled his head.

"I'm gonna cuuuum," he sobbed. "Fuck! Lalaaa!"

"There you go. Don't hold back, Heeseung baby," Della mustered up all the energy she had to quicken her pace.

"Ahhhh! Lalaaa!" Heeseung used his tight hold to assist her bounces before ultimately letting out a loud gasp as he released spurts and spurts of warm cum. "Oh my God, babyy," he sighed and relaxed his shoulders.

"Good boyy," Della halted her thrusts, caressing his hair lovingly. "Filling me up soo good," she placed tiny kisses on his head. "I love you, baby."

"I love you too, Lala," Heeseung breathed out. "Thank you," he pulled himself away to connect their lips.

They were stuck in a slow make-out session for a while before Jay grew impatient and pulled Della away from the older. 

"You didn't forget about me, did you?" Jay grumbled in her ear. "I gave you time to fuck hyung but now you forgot about us?" he lifted her up like she weighed nothing and placed her front facing down.

"You're being rude, Jay. Your hyung needed to—" Della cut herself off with a gasp when Jay landed a firm spank on her ass.

"You're not in control no more," he said in a low voice, lifting her waist up slightly. "Where are your manners?"

"I'm sorry, oppa," Della whimpered when he spread her pussy lips. She could feel Heeseung's cum slowly pouring out of her. As always, he came a lot.

"Shitt– hyung," Jay called for Heeseung to see. The latter had pretty much sobered up from earlier and is back to his usual self.

And at least for now, he still had not realised what he had done in front of his dongsaengs. 

"Keep it in, baby," Heeseung took two of his fingers and pushed the cum back inside her, causing Della to gasp. "Add onto it, Jongseong," he patted Jay's bare shoulder with his clean hand before heading towards the bathroom.

"My pleasure," Jay whispered. He wrapped his arms around Della's body and instantly pushed himself inside her once again. "Fuckkk, Della."

"Yess! Oppaa!" Della squeezed her eyes shut, letting out babbles of words that barely made any sense. She could feel Heeseung's cum slowly absorbing inside her as Jay fucked it deeper. The sounds of the moisture only turning on everyone in the room more.

"Fuck! You're gonna cum soon, aren't ya?" Jay's hard-but-slow pace tried to quicken when he felt Della tightening around him. "Just a little more, baby– Oppa's almost there, wait for me," he left kisses on the side of her face as he tried to concentrate on cumming together with his girl.

Fortunately for him, Della knows exactly what to do in this situation.

"Fill me up good, oppa. Make me feel so full," Jay had never verbally admitted it to her, but she knows that he has a breeding kink. "Stuff me full of—"

"FUUUUCK, I'm cumming!" Jay's left hand frantically went to search for Della's. "C'mere baby," while his right hand went to bring her face to his. 

They connected their lips together, essentially muffling their moans (and screams). Della used her free hand to hold onto his head, making the scene look even more sweet.

"I love you, Della," Jay mumbled against her lips.

"I love you, Jay," Della whined at the feeling of her own orgasm mixed with Jay's (and Heeseung's). "So, so much."

"So, so much," Jay left a final kiss on her forehead before getting off of her back. His eyes immediately went to her cum-filled entrance. "Good girl, keep it in," he grunted, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of barely any cum leaking out. 

He chuckled when Della wiggled her ass for fun. "How cute," he slapped her ass and stood up. "Agh fuck, you really milked me dry."

"Come on, it hasn't been THAT long, guys," Della rolled her eyes. "We didn't even last the whole month."

Just as she finished talking, a harsher slap was placed on her ass.

"You fuck four men on a daily basis– you still think you could've handled it?" Sunghoon asked, flipping Della onto her back. "Do I also need to remind that you were the one who gave in first? YOU?" he grabbed onto her leg to pull her closer to the edge of the bed and closer to him. "Don't make me teach you a lesson."

"Go easy on her, Sunghoon-ah. She's about to receive a handful with you and Jaeyun," Heeseung reminded. He grabbed Jay's and his cans of beer before joining Jay on the bed. The two were now dressed in their boxers.

"Yeah, just shut up and let's do our shit," Jake impatiently took off his pants but kept his shirt on, only removing his zip-up. "You've done anal, baby?" Della nodded her head in enthusiasm. "Yeah? And you like it?"

"Mhmm! Are we doing what I think we're doing?" Jake chuckled at her excitement. 

"You're adorable. Isn't it gonna hurt, baby?" the tips of Jake's fingers began grazing Della's thigh.

"I wanna be closer to my men," Della gave out a seductive look to both Jake and Sunghoon, making sure to use Korean so Sunghoon would understand.

"How cute," Sunghoon mumbled. "Don't forget your safe words," he ran a hand through Della's hair before laying down on the bed, legs still seated on the edge.

"Is she getting on top of you or me?" Jake asked his partner. "Isn't it more comfortable with you on top?"

"I mean... It's easier for me to thrust but it's more comfortable for her to hug me, no?" Sunghoon explained. "Won't it be unstable if she lays on her back?"

"No– Della should be on her stomach, on her back is difficult, I think," Heeseung pointed at the three.

"Are you doing double?" Jay's eyes widened when he realised what they were discussing. 

"Uh," Jakehoon replied briefly.

"Then Della should be on her stomach and the one who does the back thrusts from behi– on top," Jay gave his take.

"No– the reason why I say she should be on her back is because she needs to be distracted from the pain and Sunghoon would be able to thrust and properly do that," Jake tried to explain his take. "Otherwise his movements are limite—"

Their discussion was cut off by a loud groan from Della, followed by the girl hovering over Sunghoon chest-to-chest.

"Stop taking so fucking long and just fuck me," she wasted no more time and slipped Sunghoon's cock into her entrance.

"Oh my God!" "Oh fuck!" the two hissed at the sudden feeling. 

"Fucking finally!" Sunghoon threw his head back. "Come here, kitten," he repositioned Della a little so he could move more comfortably. 

Thanks to his long legs, all he needed to do so was to hold her in place.

"So fucking tight," he said with gritted teeth. He was never one to make a lot of noises in bed, but with his buddies around, he's determined to look cool. He was gonna try to contain his facial expressions, which is something he never holds back on.

Yet his plan went straight out the window when Della adorably cuddled into his chest. 

"Oppaaa," she whined.

"Aww, kitten– my princess," he cooed, bringing one of his hands to hug her close. "Does that feel good, kitten?"

Della could only mew louder and nuzzle her head more, making all four boys coo at the sight.

"This seems enough for you, baby. Do you really need more?" Jake went up to her face to tease while his lubed finger equally teased her back entrance.

Della looked into his eyes and said the one name that the two have kept a secret for a long time. 

"Please, daddy?" 

Jake halted for a second, taken aback at the sudden change of mind. He was not one to be shy about his kink, but Della was a bit apprehensive that the members just won't understand.

But weirdly enough, none of the boys reacted, as if they already knew of the fact.

"Sunghoon, stop moving for a second," Jake went back to his position and squeezed more lube onto Della's hole. "Stay relaxed, darling," he warned Della before pushing a finger in.

"Mmm," she closed her eyes and pursed her lips.

"I'm right here, princess," Sunghoon whispered in her ear. "Relax some more," and immediately continued his movements.

"There ya go, good girl," Jake muttered, slowly twisting and pumping his finger. When Della was almost fully relaxed and resumed her previous moaning, Jake gradually added another finger in and followed by another once she adjusted to that as well. "Such a good girl."

"Ahh! I'm gonna cum!" Della announced, pushing her upper body up to catch a glimpse of what Jake's doing. "Fuck!" her eyes rolled back as she turned back to Sunghoon. "Oh my Goodness!" her moans only got louder when she looked at Sunghoon's facial expressions.

As always, his eyebrows were furrowed the whole time while he switched between biting/licking his lips, having his mouth open or gritting his teeth. He had completely forgotten about his initial plan of restraining himself.  

"Go cum, darling," he choked out, giving his last few hard thrusts after Della threw her head back and cried out. 

He almost let out a sigh of relief. If Della waited just a few seconds longer, he too would've been calling to cum and he did not want that just yet.

"Relax a bit, kitten," neither Sunghoon nor Jake pulled out, but they wanted to give Della time to catch her breath.

"What a good girl," Jay noticed Jake ripping open the condom wrapper and immediately sprung to action. "Taking four men so well," he continued to drop praises while caressing her hair.

"If it gets too much, please let us know and Jake can jerk off for the night or something," Heeseung also joined in with a joke.

"Hyung!" Jake whined. He somehow successfully got the condom on with just one hand, and is now lathering his length with the lube.

"Byee daddy" Jay added fuel to the fire by grinning and waving at him. 

"Shut the fuck up, Jay, I complimented you earlier," Jake sent a glare at his friend.

"The tension is insane. Now kiss," Della lifted her head to comment.

No matter how many times she has teased them, they have never expressed or voiced their discomfort, which she knows they aren't afraid to do. In Della's mind, this would imply that the possibility of it happening is not zero.

"Aish Lalaa!" "Eyy!" "Babe!" "Aghh" the four boys complained, with Jake adding an additional smack to her ass.

"You think his dick is big, right? You have my permission and sucking ONE dick does not make you ga—" 

"Okay, that's enough," Sunghoon spoke up and gave her one hard thrust. "Jake and I still need to cum, princess. Stop the yapping."

"I'm sorry, oppa," Della whimpered, bringing her head down to rest on Sunghoon's chest again.

"I'm only letting you off since you've been so good to us, understand? Don't test my patience," he said in a low voice, his hips starting to move in a steady pace once again.

"Understood," Della let out a high-pitched moan at the stimulus but was cut off with her own gasp as Jake pulled his fingers out.

"I'm putting it in," Jake breathed out. He squeezed some more lube on Della's rim before slowly entering. "FUCK!"

"Mmh!" Della had her eyes squeezed shut, trying to adjust to his size (especially with Sunghoon in her other hole).

"Our strong baby," "Such a good girl," Jay and Heeseung showered her in praises, using their hands to caress her arm and back while Sunghoon does so with her hair.

"Fuck– so fucking tight," Jake threw his head back when he was fully inside her. "Hang in there, baby, good job," he smoothed his hand over her ass.

"Yellow?" Heeseung asked about the safe word, just in case.

"Green," she quickly answered. "Can you move slowly, oppa?" her head shifted to make eye contact with Sunghoon.

"Of course, darling," he placed a kiss on her hair before slowly pumping her. "Shit, kitten," he squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back.

Because of Jake, she felt tighter than usual but was still wet as ever. He knew he couldn't last long, especially after nearly cumming earlier.

"Jaeyun, please move," Della breathed out, starting to feel pleasure again.

Both Jake and Della let out a loud gasp at the sensation. The pace began to quicken in no time, making the scene look like it came straight out of an incognito site. 

"Oh my– fuuuuuuck!" Della moaned loudly, feeling fuller than she's ever felt. "Oppaaa! Daddyyyy!" little tears began pooling in the corner of her eyes. "Aaaaaaahhh!"

"So good, baby. Taking both of us so well," Jake leaned forward to mumble in her ear. "Shittt, so tight baby," his face held a large smile and left temporary hickies around her neck and shoulders. "My good girl."

There's no doubt that the back end is tighter, but Jake's favourite was really the sight of having two of her holes stuffed, and the fact that him and Sunghoon were the first ones to do that.

The three were so into each other that they didn't notice Heeseung getting up to retrieve Sunghoon's old, red iPhone. He knew that they would want the scene to be recorded— for their eyes only, of course.

"I'm recording," Heeseung announced before pressing record. They all turned to Heeseung for a second and resumed like nothing happened.

"Come here, kitten," Sunghoon grunted, pulling Della's face in for a kiss. She moaned into his mouth when she felt her two best friends quicken their pace. 

She noticed Jake tugging at her hair, so she broke the kiss off to then connect her lips with his, bringing a hand back to hold his head in place.

Jay, who did not want to just lay there beside them, started playing with Della's tits while palming himself. He personally doesn't need more, but he did not want the video to appear awkward. 

"You guys really look so fucking hot," Heeseung commented. He turned off the recording and went back to his original spot. "I wanna kiss, baby," his head got closer so Della could easily kiss him.

"FUCK! I'm cumming!" Della pulled away to scream out. Her eyes were closed shut and her open mouth spewed out loud whines after whine.

"Yesss, kitten," "Me too, baby, me too," Sunghoon threw his head back while Jake buried his face in her neck. It did not take the three long at all to reach their orgasm.

"Jay-oppaa," Della managed to let out, weakly stretching an arm out so he could come closer. "I haven't kissed you."

Jay felt his heart swell in adoration and he swiftly did as told without hesitation.

"Fuckk! Aaaahhh!" Della pulled away but kept their foreheads together and squeezed Heeseung's hand.

They looked absolutely ridiculous being in one big huddle (and it was certainly not the most comfortable), yet that was the moment when the five of them were just connected. It's what they needed and exactly what they hoped for tonight.

"I'm cumming, baby," Jake's voice was shaky, and his thrusts started faltering first. "Shit! Good girl, baby. Good girl, good girl!"

"Shit! Shit!" both Jake and Della came around the same time. The former usually takes his time to ride out his high but he almost instantly pulled out so Sunghoon could finish properly.

Sunghoon looked at him in thanks, immediately adjusting his position and hurriedly chased his orgasm. Della started shaking and screaming with overstimulation, letting go of Heejay to hold on tightly to Sunghoon.

"Shit! Ahh baby, almost ther�� NOW KITTEN. NOW, now, now!" Sunghoon babbled a bit as his orgasm overtook his body. "Shit," he sighed and relaxed his body, still holding onto Della tightly. "You're amazing, princess. I love you," he chuckled breathily.

"I love you, my prince," Della breathed out with a smile.

The two shared a sweet kiss before Sunghoon pulled away and shifted Della over to Jake, who was now lying beside him.

"What a good girl.You're an absolute champ and you're incredible," Jake couldn't help but chuckle. "We're so fucking lucky, baby. I love you so much," he then connected their lips in a passionate kiss.

"I'M so lucky to have you guys and I just love you sooo much," once they pulled away, Della's head instantly went to rest on Jake's chest. "Let's clean up before we get too tired."

"Oh no you don't," Jake shifted their position so Della would lay on her back. He got on top of her with a mischievous grin on his face. 

"I called dibs on cleaning you off, remember?"

Eventually everyone washed up and got ready for bed. They decided to all sleep together on the makeshift king-sized bed with Della in the centre. They were cuddled closely, but it didn't really matter anymore to them.

"Guys, we're actually really cute," Heeseung giggled. "I fucking love this relationship."

"Just a bunch of bros with our girl" Jake sighed. He held Della tighter to his chest and shut his eyes, ready to sleep.

"For a second there, I thought you were gonna call me a hoe," Della giggled, looking up at him. 

"I'm never gonna call you a hoe, babe! I'm not Sunghoon!" Jake's reply made Sunghoon smack his shoulder.

"I will never call her that!" Sunghoon looked at him with betrayal. "I don't even know what that means but I know it's bad!"

"You call her names in bed, we all know it!" Jake protested back.

"Ya– rarely ever, right princess? Only on certain times and we both have no issues with it," Della nodded at Sunghoon's defence. "See?! Don't kinkshame me, daddy."

"YAA!" Jake shaking Sunghoon's leg off of his own. 

"Today's session just revealed everyone's kinks," Jay laughed. "Sunghoon likes to call Della 'kitten', Jake likes to be called 'daddy', Della apparently likes anal," he stopped himself for saying Heeseung's out of respect.

"Pffftt, okay mister kinky. Didn't know you could go hard like that," Sunghoon grinned. "I thought you just liked vanilla but you were slapping Lala and everything."

"Why do you like to get slapped?" Jay ignored Sunghoon and asked the girl he was semi-holding.

"I don't know! Sometimes I just like things!" Della shrugged defensively. "I like a whole bunch of things!"

"Yeah and your boyfriends all like different things too," Sunghoon chuckled. "You're absolutely perfect for us."

"Awww," Della grinned but got shy and hid her face in Jake's chest. "I'm sorry for making you all join No Nut November. This was really dumb and I'm also really sorry for losing to someone who didn't even join."

"Don't worry about that, darling. It's all forgiven and practically forgo—" Jay's words were cut off by the boom of Heeseung's voice beside him.

"WAIT!" Heeseung shot up straight in realisation. Della and Jake both jumped in surprise while Sunghoon and Jay flinched. Heeseung looked back at them with horror in his eyes.

There was a reason why he was quiet the whole time. It's because it just hit him how;

"YOU GUYS FUCKING SAW ME IN MY WEAK STATE!"

i gotta be honest, i hate to be that person but i was feeling really insecure about my writing tbh. like the first draft was not hot AT ALL and i wanted this long awaited/overdue smut to make you guys all hot and bothered y'know? i think it's much better now and i'm feeling both proud and insecure but i hope you enjoyed it and happy anniversary! taglist: @duolingofanaccount @lalalalawon @clar-iii @deafeningballoonpeach

[factual-fantasy]

24 Asks! Thanks ya'll! 🐼

@holly-opal-2 (Sorry for the late reply!)

Aw <:( I'm so sorry to hear that. I hope that doesn't happen again.

Also of course they are! :}} I have always considered them as such 💞

Thank you! Happy (late) Valentines day! :DD

@stargirldrawsx3

Man, I feel you there. I'm sorry you weren't able to study. I hope things go well for you 🙏

@narrator-girlart

I saw Markiplier play it some weeks ago, but mostly forgot about it.. I was surprised to see it gain such traction on Tumblr. Maybe I'll have to go rewatch those videos and figure out why people love it so much :00 (I cant remember the events of the game 💀)

@dreamweave01

That could work!! :DDD

(ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!😭😭💞💞💞 )

Yeahhh.. I have been battling some health problems for almost a year now. Trying my best to work on it but thing's aren't going so well. <://

Thank you very much though, I hope the same for you! :))

@milk-powrit

Tom Nook is an angel, the "only good landlord" he's been called. And I agree! This might explain why though I didn't read all the way through- just skimmed over it and thought "yeah I think this has the right points"

@necropencil (Referencing this post)

AAA THANK YOU!! :DD

(I am also slowly going insane thanks to Wheeljack XDD)

@badlyblurry

XDD Well its like they say, great minds think alike! Also thank you so much!! :DDDD💞💞💞

AAAAA thank you!! :DD Or- you're welcome? <XDD

@shyzonkstudentlawyer

Oh wow, welcome back! :DD And thank you! I'm trying to try to work on my health and make improvements where I can manage it.. so far things have uh.. Well, it could be worse I suppose!😅

Also AAAA THANK YOU THANK YOU!! :DDD I'm so glad to hear you like what I've made! :DDDD

Now for you questions...

When it comes to the Welcome Home stuff, just imagine our world through a puppet/sesame street style show lens. They have the same food but its all colorful and has silly names. Their trees are like ours but they're crazy colors and grow fantasy fruit. Their technology develops like ours but its all colorful and silly. Etc, Etc-

Now for TADC... I hadn't actually thought about it <:0 maybe Sneemos jester hat things would flail around :0 I haven't thought about it otherwise though😔

Lastly, PFFF XDDD

(Item-dying woes post in ask)

😔You feel my pain.. I feel your pain........

@wolfie-777

:000! You heard it here folks! I'm silly!

She always looks lovely! :))

@tearsofsolace

AAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! :DDD🥰🥰💞💞💞💞

@eggswastaken

XDD That I did!

..Well, I actually got into it back in 2020-- but recently I have dragged myself back into the fandom a bit. 😂 The biggest obstacle I have to rejoining the fandom fully is just making time to sit down and rewatch the show.

I have such a hard time switching tasks and just doing something 💀 but hopefully I'll get there soon! <:)))

@minnesotamedic186

@little-goober

Oh yeah, sorry! I have very bad memory 😅 I can only really remember people by their profile pictures.

Also thank you so much! :)))

Thank you so much!! 🥰🥰

@bluetootsiepop

My advice is to study references closely. When it comes to making faces up/drawing faces without a reference? Like if its an OC? I'm afraid I cant think of any advice <:( I struggle with that a lot too. 😔

(Also thank you so much!! :DD )

@ourlifestooshort

I have drawn them, but I don't feel comfortable sharing my ref sheets.. Sorry! <:/

I looked up Tailgate with no mask and I will never sleep well again 💀

Also feel free to tell me anything you want about the comics! I don't plan on reading them 😔 I only plan on rewatching Transformers: Prime.

@bitesyoubitesyouchomp

SCEAMSSSS THANKYOUUU 😭😭 THAT'S ALL SO SWEET IM IN TEARS💞💞💞

@beryl-shade

Imagine if my blood was blue XD I'd be a transformer!

[danisbrainrot]

Teen nat comforting you when you're crying about something hcs?

natalie scatorccio x reader

a/n: we're so back! after the first two episodes of season three dropped I'm inspired by this ask. it's not head canons, sorry, I just liked the idea and wanted to write a little story about it.

sorry this must be at least six months late, but here it is! camp counsellor nat :)

spoilers ahead!! (technically? I think it's just season two spoilers though)

wiping the tears from your eyes, you sniffle into your lap, hunching over to take up as little space as possible. you just wanted to be out of everyone's way, not wanting to ruin the mood with your tears. everyone else was happy and celebrating surviving winter, while you felt stuck. frozen in time, still unable to move on from how much winter took from you girls.

first jackie. then crystal. then javi. . .

now springtime has rolled around, you can't help but feel the same dread you felt throughout winter—yes, it was lovely now and your team has cultivated a livable community. however, you couldn't help but wonder what happens next winter? When akilah's animals freeze to death, gen can't find game. . . when shauna goes crazy again.

you pause, wondering when was the last time shauna was sane. then, guilt creeps in as you realise that you had no right to judge her—not after everything she lost. her best friend. her baby.

"hey, are you okay?" nat asked, crouching down to your level.

you gasp in shock, wiping more tears from your eyes. your cheeks stung with embarrassment at getting caught—nat came out of nowhere, giving you no time to recuperate. "yeah, just. . . needed to let it out."

placing a comforting hand on your back, nat tried to offer you a reassuring smile. "hey, we all understand. it can feel daunting out here. if you ever need someone to talk, I'm here."

"oh I know, your majesty," you tease, eliciting a snort from nat—you could tell she hated the title. you sigh gently, signalling you were okay. nat pats your thigh, standing up when suddenly your hand flings out to grab hers. "do you think we're awful people? for eating javi? and jackie?"

nat pauses, her face dropping significantly. she bites her bottom lip, which you find insanely attractive, before shrugging. "we did what we had to. . . to survive."

"but if that's what it takes to survive, do we deserve to?" you question, clutching nat's hand firmly. the brunette looks down at you, her expression unreadable, before shaking her head.

"all I know is that it should have been me. javi. . . I still don't believe in lottie's bullshit about the forest, but I will never forget his sacrifice."

you nod, realising your questions were hurting natalie more than you'd meant for them to. you drop your hand, resting it in your lap and watch her walk away.

she swivels her head to look at you, words on the tip of her tongue, before she shakes the thought away and walks away.

late that night, you hear a rustle outside your makeshift hut. turning to your roommate, you find gen fast asleep, so you decide to investigate by yourself. you follow a sliver of light, someone's back to you as they watch the small flames dance.

"shouldn't you put that out? it's late," you ask, sitting next to nat on the campfire log. she glances at you, her face enchantingly illuminated by the flames, taking your breath away.

"just thinking," she mumbles.

"about our conversation before?" you ask, eliciting a nod in response. you stare at the fire, wondering if it was the heat from the dying flames that burnt your cheeks or the way nat looked.

"you didn't chase me. why?" she whispers, not daring to look you in the eyes.

"when we ate jackie, it felt different. . . she was already dead and we didn't cook her, the snow did. sure, it was cannibalism but it wasn't murder. . . if I had chased you—"

"you'd have actively tried to hunt me," she replies.

"it seemed wrong, even for us," you answer.

there was a beat of silence while you watch her gaze into the flames. you felt your heart race in your chest, working up the courage to tell her what you want to say, "it goes both ways," you promise. she looks up at you confused, "if you need someone to talk to, I'm here for you. . . and I'm sure it's not easy as the antler queen, especially with whatever shauna and mari have going on."

nat erupts into laughter, shaking her head. "don't get me started on those two," she replies, before her laugh fades to a small smile. she places her hand on your shoulder, "but I like the idea. we look out for each other."

"You'll be the queen and I'll be your—wait what is it called. . . the people royalty lean on for support. . . oh, concubines?" your face drops when you notice nat's face. her eyebrows are raised and tries to cover her mouth and stifle her laughter.

nat can no longer hold it in and burst into laughter again, "that doesn't mean what you think it does," she teases.

"oh, that's the sex one. isn't it?" you mutter, lowering your head to avoid her gaze. nat tucks her hair behind her ears, making you think about how she managed to rock the grown out look. she suited blonde, brunette and a combination of both.

nat notices you watching her intensely, "what? is there something in my hair?" she asks, raking her hands through it swiftly.

"no, no. just wondering if you miss the blonde?"

"well, it's still there, isn't it?"

you snort, "yeah, but the full blonde?"

nat shrugs, "more important things to worry about," she replies candidly.

you reach out to play with the blonde hair, twirling it around your finger. unknowingly, you'd accidentally brought her face closer to yours. she didn't seem to mind, but once you realise your cheeks burn and you shuffle away from her. "sorry," you mumble.

"come here," she replies, grabbing the back of your head and pulling you close.

your lips connected seamlessly, like your lips were made for each other. she kisses you softly, a reassurance that she was here for you, while her fingers tangle themselves in your—already tangled—hair.

after what felt like only a minute—but could have been longer—nat gently pulls away, a string of saliva all that connected you two. she runs her thumb over your bottom lip, cleaning away the evidence, and offers you a wonky smile. "I suppose every queen needs her concubine after all," she jokes.

"that was amazing," you whisper, still in awe. she laughs again, resting her forehead against yours.