#and pretty brown and red leaves

[mouthfulloftoothpasterry]

I miss fall

[perfectlyscentedturtle-7]

Photos From This Morning!!🍁🍁🍂🍂🍂🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🤎💛🧡❤️

(Snapchat Filters)

[macroglossus]

it's funny how little i feel like myself when my hair isn't bright ass red

[autistic-katara]

if there’s one thing abt staying up rlly late it’s that it gives u the best lore-dreams

[screampied]

✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader, unprotected, established relationship, mıssionary, praise, brēeding, petnames, mdni.

nanami who always finds himself in your sheets and between your legs after a long day at work.

“think i want a baby, ‘ken.”

and he took those six simple words personally. nanami’s giving you slow, languid strokes, rolling his hips against yours. he groans at your nails clawing all down his back. as you briefly meet his gaze, you’re met with the most kindest, fawn eyes. all you saw in them were nothing but pools of love with a sprinkle of lust. “oh,” he huskily grunts, hearing the sloshing wet stretch deep into your cunt. he’s stunned for a bit before going deep into imagination. the thought of making your cute tummy all swollen and rounded, it makes him gnaw on his lip like candy.

“my love,” he swallows thickly, a familiar lump forming into the back of his throat. nanami leans into you, his rhythm growing more and more sloppy. you’re jerking back, an ankle of yours sliding down the red lines of his back and he grunts. “c- careful now, might give you more than just one.” and he could have came right then and there—all from relishing in your beauty. he’s never laid his eyes upon anything more pretty.

your knees then get righteously shoved up to your chest. soft, browned eyes flicker at the valley between your breasts before glancing back toward your shimmery spit-slicked lips. you moan, tossing your arms over his shoulders. “i missed my girls,” he groans, stuffing his face between your chest for a moment. your breath immensely hitches at the feeling up him licking a single stripe, still deeply plummeting such inches in and out of your weeping cunt. “they missed me too,” he purrs in a raspy coo, speaking to your tits, and that’s when he latches his plump lips against your perky nipple for a short second. “m-mh.”

the air felt hot — humid, feverish even with each breeze that passes. as warm, kinetic bodies clash against each other at individual hyper strokes, he pries himself off of you. nanami’s jaw tightens so much from your soddened grip that it almost aches. “sweetheart,” he hisses, peering his eyes down to see the milky white ring already coating around his base. it’s probably been hours, hours of you prettily sprawled out for him with your legs open. docile, tawny irises lovingly gaze into you as a thumb of yours strum down his neatly ruffled undercut. “f- fuck, i want you so bad. missed my girl. missed my pussy.”

“she’s missed you too ‘ken,” you pull him into a hot kiss, tasting the mint that lingers on his breath. and as his thrusts grew more sloppy, you whine, feeling his jutting cock kiss against your most sweetest spots. your heart flutters, slithering its way around his waist in a secure lock. “fuck me kento, d- don’t stop, pleaseee.”

“never gonna stop for you, my love,” he huffs, chest heaving in and out. the more he stares at you, the more he falls in love.

through glossed eyes that shimmer with such infatuation—he’s taking in your beauty, your fervor.

nanami loves more than anything to just gawk at you, watching as your eyes droop, your neck crane, and even the way your brows crease into a furrow due to such rapturing pleasure. only he could make you feel this way—you and him both knew that. nobody knew your body like the back of their hand except nanami. your body was his personal canvas, he’s always loved to decorate it and paint it with various, chaste kisses.

to him, you were art. he’s hitting you deep, blurbs and blurbs of whimpers dragging out of your throat until it sounds like inaudible meaningless babbles. so pretty,

repeatedly, the base of his cock perfectly hits against there, leaving you with your jaw hanging open and your entire body being stuck into a limited dimwitted state. he fucks you silly every time, you whimper as a lightening pulse from his cock twitches inside of you, plugging you full.

over and over and over,

nanami blows into your mouth, and you hear a throaty chuckle before he presses yet another wet kiss against your lips. “wanna see you nice ‘n plump s-so bad. gonna give you triplets, my sweet.” and you’re just stupefied, barely a single thought was stored up into your empty, vacant brain. nanami sucks against your bottom lip, still steadily rocking his way into your sloppy cunt. you feel the juncture of his hips mercilessly thrust its way into you raw and you gasp. “right . . here?”

pleasure overtakes you so good that you barely even noticed he was talking to you. you’re too busy moaning your head off and a soft smile pierces against both sides of his lips. a few faint dimples poke against his skin before he grabs your chin. “sweetheaaaart, ‘m talkin’ to you, hey,” and once your eyes meet his mid-thrust, his heart swarms up with love and desire. “there we go. atta girl, yeah. ‘s this spot? this feel good?”

“y- yes,” you whimper, nodding eagerly. he was so big and thick, the prolongated stretch had you drooling. nanami glances at your hand. gingerly bringing it toward his lips, he kisses it, giving it a tender mwah. “kento, ‘m gonna cum a-again.”

“i know, pretty,” he groans, grabbing onto your hand. giving it a firm squeeze. you do the same, interlocking a bundle of fingers with his. his grip was gentle and warm, frantic heartbeat haphazardly picking up speed the more you get a feel of his familiar touch once more. nanami’s always slow with you,

he doesn’t wanna rush this — he hadn’t dreamt of it. already feeling you tighten around him, he invades a strip of your sensitive neck with a plethora of passionate, amorous kisses. “you always taste the same,” and you moan, sobbing cunt gripping down on him so good that it whimpers out a pitchy squelch of its own. his lolled twitching tongue licks against the edge of your shoulder blade once more and your back arches in ecstasy.

he’s never been more in love, with your body arching up backwards at his sweet, sweet hits, you were so close to becoming undone. every pivot of nanami’s hips snap you back to reality before you whine out a needy mewl, tangled digits combing through his unkempt, blond strands. “kento, fuuuuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

“together, my l-love,” his voice falters, and his adam’s apple starts to bob. each delicious thrust of his collapses into your body in such mirroring sync. the rapid, frenzied movements were in complete harmony and beads of running sweat sticks against each skin. nanami gruffly groans, preparing to get milked again, you always did it so so well. squeezing his eyes shut, both broad hands cling onto your hips as he grinds against your core. “c’mon, make a mess on me. ‘m gonna clean you up, promise. give it to me, please.”

your moans were so harmonic, each sound that left your throat coming out to be more elongated. with his cock pounding in and out, he starts to slow his pace down — seeping his teeth into your tender collarbone softly. sharp tips of your fingernails continue to paw at the beefiness of his biceps before within seconds, it happens.

with your lips forming into a lewd circular shape, you’re creaming all down his thickset of a shaft. “kentoooo,” you whine out, feeling your soaked walls clench all around him. he holds you tight, allowing you to form into a puddled mess before he shortly follows. nanami groans, tossing his head forward before a translucent ring bubbles around his heavy base. it comes out in oozing spurts, hot cum pouring into your womb raw.

“ngh, always have me bein’ such a mess for you,” he grunts, pretty arched brows curling up together. nanami sucks at the air, witnessing as your legs grow numb, gluing against his skin. “ah, ‘s gonna be a lot. hold still ‘n take it. take it like a good girl,” and he leans into you, cupping the curvature of your face. “make me proud, baby. thaaaaat’s it. eyes on me, eyes on kento.”

nanami feels a wave of drowsiness dawn over him as he stills himself inside of you. he’s panting right with you, a thumb hooks a strand of hair back toward your face. a school of butterflies flutter inside of you as he’s still dumping a sticky load of velvety thin ropes into your greedy pussy. it’s deeply spewing down alongside of your thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck. “i- i love you ‘ken.”

“i love you more,” he whispers, leaning in to pepper kisses all over your face. he hums at the tiny pout that’s displayed on your lips. you’re underneath him, succumbing into such an orgasmic state that you could barely keep your lashes open. nanami’s not moving anymore but he’s still buried balls deep. a big clammy hand ghosts over your tummy before he nips at your chin. “you’re gonna be such a pretty mommy,” and with a final kiss, you feel him slowly lifting up your leg, tossing it over his shoulder.

and as you gasp, watching him switch positions— nanami then pulls out a wedding ring, sliding it over your bare finger. “but you’d be an even prettier wife.”

[novasintheroom]

Ghost who, under “orders” from his army therapist (and with Price’s encouragement), starts looking around for hobbies when he’s on leave.

Not sure what to do at first. Tries gaming but gets bored of it and the PS4 stays gathering dust in his flat. Plants don’t appeal to him because he won’t be around enough to take care of them. Thinks about knitting, but is a bit too embarrassed to walk into the local craft shop to start making doilies.

Finally goes to the library after seeing a flyer advertising a painting class and thinks, “Hell, why not.”

Shows up in his hoodie, black face mask, and black baseball cap. Gives most of the old ladies attending the painting session a good scare

Until he rolls up his sleeves to avoid getting paint on his good hoodie. Then those old ladies are ogling his forearms and the tattoos painting his skin.

Is very attentive to the hired artist leading the session. Hasn’t got an artistic bone in his body, but dammit, he’s going to report back to his therapist that he tried if it’s the last thing he does.

Two little old ladies, Mrs. Levine and Ruby, pluck up the courage to sit beside him and start chatting him up. Compliments his painting, talk about their grandkids, how one of Ruby’s grandsons is into heavy metal (assuming Ghost is as well). Ghost listens half-heartedly, just trying to get the brown right for the deer he’s putting on paper. They manage to weasel out his name:

“Simon,” he announces gruffly.

“Oh, what a good name,” Mrs. Levine says.

He goes to the next activity as well: polymer clay creations. His hands are big and meaty and he has to take more clay than is probably reasonable to make the little pig he’s got going.

Mrs. Levine and Ruby are there too and sit right next to him to chat with him again. They love his idea of a pig and make a cow and sheep to go with it. When the hired artist comes around to see how everyone’s doing, Mrs. Levine announces that the three of them “have a little farm going” and that “Simon’s the farmhand.”

He's glad he's got his face mask on. He can feel his ears going red at the look the artist gives him.

Again, he’s very attentive to the hired artist, watching her hands carve into the soft clay with her nails to get texture on her dinosaur. He tries to do the same, giving whispy little hairs to his pig. It’s not pretty, but he feels a smidge better about going when it’s all done.

Mrs. Levine and Ruby get more information out of him as time goes on and he attends more activities. Soon their friends join in on the conversation, and Ghost – Simon – is well-known at the library for being the military guy who attends every Saturday when he’s not deployed. The little old ladies love him, even if he “doesn’t say much.” He’s helped them carry their bags of books and crafts to their cars, listens to them prattle on about activities and their aches and pains, and even scared off some hooligans who were trying to disrupt their library activity.

(They’ve all got little old lady crushes on this big man who takes time out of his day to better himself, and they love his dry/dad jokey humor)

(And he won't admit it, but these are his little old ladies now. Clarice brought him brownies that he absolutely devoured when he got back to his flat they were so good, and he can't help but laugh at how often they try to set him up with their granddaughters. And how they "trip" often just to hang on to his big arms. Birds are birds, no matter their age.)

[evilgwrl]

ExHusband!Simon x Reader

You Want a Divorce? (One)

Note: I'm having the WORST writer's block now so pls excuse my lack of proper writing... I'm currently sitting in front of a beach writing in hopes that ill gain inspo

CW: Angst, mentions of sex, jealous/possessive Simon, PLS DONT LEAVE YOUR KIDS IN THE CAR !!! Or break into someone’s house

Inspired by: Ex!Husband Simon

PART TWO

Simon stared at you. The shades of his eyes simmering into endless voids of obsidian, blonde lashes moulded against his greased lids, the residue of the perpetual torture his body had succumbed to during deployment.

“You want a divorce?” He spoke, voice deep as he flickered between your shaking heads, sweat soiling into the papers gripped firmly and your swollen face, cheeks feverish with a red hue, eyes even more so.

You held back a rough sob, throat stripped of all moisture evident in your hoarse voice as you spoke, “Yes, Simon. I think it would be best for our family… for us.”

He scoffed. “You think the best thing for our family is to separate?”

“We already pretty much are. You’re away for days, weeks, months at a time. We’re hardly a family and it’s difficult to explain to the children why I’m crying.”

“Ok then.”

That was it. You would admit, it stung. His lacklustre tone felt like a stab in the gut, the blade drenched with anthrax as it reared blistering sores internally, the effects having shown through your putrid complexion. Your skin was dull, practically lifeless, the only living form of you grew day by day through the darkening of eyebags that almost made you look apocalyptic.

It had been 12 months of separation, officially 8 being legally divorced. You kept his last name, the permanent burn of hearing Mrs Riley still searing through you with every syllable, yet you feel it would only hurt you more if they said Ms.

Simon was often away now, and the minimal family time he used to get felt pointless as the shabby apartment he moved into after the sudden interference of your mind-boggling news barely fit the two kids you shared. His body felt more relentless on him, the taunting of his mind fulgurated the inoperative reality that he would come home to you, to his family.

His voice, almost like it dropped an octave had grown richer in aggression, tormenting those he deemed suitable, both with his tongue and with his bruised knuckles, an oil painting of blue and purple hues radiating across the pale flesh as he shrugged it off to his team as “pushing himself and others to do better”.

Couldn’t you realise your mistake? Wouldn’t you prefer crying in his arms about his absence than never having it fulfilled again?

As he looked around the bleak environment, tan stained walls revolting the creaking mattress he had brought someone home to, someone who wasn’t you. It made him feel sick like a viral infection had slunk its way into his bloodstream as he laid next to a woman that failed to make his cock throb, endless images of you sprawled out under him flickering. No wonder he called out your name instead.

You felt the familiar shake of your hands every time your phone dinged; Simon’s dreary tone was evident through his dry “On the way” text. You ushered a day of your children’s life into their cartoon-themed backpacks, innocent smiles adorning their skin, doe-like eyes of brown, far too familiar to Simon’s staring up at you.

The sound of his car scraping into your paved driveway almost made you feel like throwing up, the nerves of seeing him combined with the already present pit of anxiety due to your date later turning you into one big shaky mess as you brushed it off as “too much caffeine”.

The echo of his car door slamming shut rung through your ears, staining you with the reiteration that your ex-husband was now at your door, heavy fists knocking upon the wood. The image you saw of him in your mind morphed back to reality as you stared at him, a blank expression on your face.

“Hi, love.”

“Hi, Simon.”

Your frown was clear, the pet name you were so used to becoming a distant memory in the past few months. It was a hole you were attempting to fill, to clear yourself away from his teasing tongue and faux impression of a healthy relationship. You were divorced for a reason, you knew that, but as you gazed upon the lack of life in his skin, it was almost like he was holding a mirror up to you.

“Daddy!” You watched as your 5-year-old, Ella, practically leapt into his hefty frame, his hands coiling around her like second nature. You could feel his warmth, the heat that would build in your stomach when you felt those same digits touch you.

“Hi sweetheart,” his voice gruff, yet tone lighter as he placed a delicate kiss on the skin of her forehead, “You miss me?”

She nodded, her face buried in the hem of his neck as your other child cooed from the bouncy chair, tubby legs attempting to wheel himself to the door.

“There’s my boy,” Simon practically cooed as he placed Ella down, bounding inside as he lifted the toddler out, grabby arms reaching out to pull at Simon’s locks, gentle tugs causing you to laugh.

Your voice cut through the scene like glass. Why would you want to destroy such a happy moment? Weren’t you supposed to be reuniting? Just say it, tell Simon you want him to come home, that you need him.

“This is Ella’s bag,” you speak, holding up the pink Minnie Mouse bag, “And this is Toby’s.” Your son giggled as he muffled out the words, “Transformers”.

Simon nodded, “Are you doing anything tonight?”

Ella practically screeched, “Mummy’s going on a date!” The thrill of her laughter that followed only seemed to make the situation more awkward.

“A date?” Simon’s voice was deadly, the hair raising on your arms as you shook your head, a tight smile on your suddenly dry lips.

“No, no, nothing like that. Just catching up with an old colleague of mine.”

“But he’s a boy, Mummy,” Ella giggled. Who was raising your daughter to be such a big mouth? Your face formed an annoyed look, eyebrows raising as a line of wrinkles crinkled against your forehead, your pointer fingers massaging your temples.

“An old colleague?” Simon practically gasped. Had he met him at your old work Xmas parties?

“Let’s get you guys in the car.” You fumbled with Toby’s car seat as you strapped him in, your nimble fingers shaking with anxiety before you shut the door, pressing a kiss against the window before wiping away the minimal residue of dirt. Gross.

“Who is he?” His tone was acerbic like he was looking for an argument. How dare you try and replace him? He was your husband, the father of your two kids? Have you seen this random man before? Had he fucked you?

“God, Simon-“

“Who is he?” Simon was relentless, bullying his way into getting the answers as his arms folded across his chest, tattoos practically screaming at you too.

“His name’s Andrew. I ran into him at a coffee shop a few weeks back and he just wanted to catch up. That’s it.”

A loud scoff sounded in the air. “You mean that geezer from that corporate job you hated? The one who didn’t know it was weird to blatantly stare down your dress when you were standing next to your fucking husband?”

“He didn’t stare down my dress! You’re not my husband anymore, Simon. I can see who I want.”

“I don’t want our children to grow up thinking they have multiple dads.”

You’ll admit, that stung.

“Multiple dads? You’re out of your mind. The only reason they would ever believe they have multiple dads is if their real one stopped showing up. And where have you been, Simon? When have you shown up?”

Simon held his tongue, the warmth of the metallic taste gashing through his teeth as he practically snarled past you. “I’ll bring them back tomorrow.”

The dress you wore was practically suffocating you as you tucked your stomach in. Simon never minded the change in your figure after motherhood, he found himself liking it even more. He loved knowing that his seed put you through that, that he made you swell with his children, and he brought out the glow in your cheeks and the delicate stretch marks that laced your hips.

Andrew was nice. His tone was comforting as he walked to your door, ushering you to his car as he insisted you could order whatever you wanted. He was handsome, the salt and pepper hues of his hair settling your insecurity.

“We’ll take the Pinot Noir,” he spoke, looking at you with an almost arrogant sheer in his blue eyes. You only liked white. Simon knew that just like he knew everything about y-

You’re not with Simon anymore. You had to realise that. Maybe that’s why you brought Andrew home, let him shove his cock (that was a lot smaller than what you were used to) inside your heat, as you let out moans you had mimicked from the porn you watched with the actor that resembled far too much of your ex-husband.

Simon's fingers gripped the steering wheel early the next morning, your two children snuggled up in the backseat as he drove back to his old house, your old home. He wasn’t a man who gave up easy, he would show you, prove to you that you made a mistake. You needed each other.

Hold on. You don’t drive a red car?

His car lurched into the entrance of your home, nearly ramming into the garage as he shoved it in park, rolling down the two back windows slightly for air as he dug around in the small side compartment of his car.

The familiar gold key he had stolen from you the night he packed up all his stuff stared back at him, practically egging him on. Go on Simon, march in there. So he did. His hand rattled against the door knob, glancing back to peak into the car for a second before he slammed the door shut.

Your body froze. Were you being robbed? No. It was only Simon. A very angry-looking Simon. You stood, the white sheet barely shielding your naked body as he took in the sight of the man next to you, his hands wrapping around his shoulders as he practically ripped him out of bed, flinging him onto the floor as he grunted, eyes reared with hatred.

“Simon, what the fuck are you doing? WHERE ARE THE KIDS?”

Andrew groaned, on the floor, covering his groin as Simon chucked the masculine clothes at his head, the thin boxers soiled across the man’s scalp as he trembled.

“Our kids are asleep in the car, waiting for their Mummy to come to the zoo with them.” Simon’s words were despicable, laced with an acrimonious tone, small particles of spit seething through his lips as stared at you.

He turned to the man, a giant frame staggering over the top of him. “Get the fuck out, and if you wake up our kids when you go past, I will personally put a bullet straight in the middle of your skull,” he said, pushing a thick digit against his forehead as Andrew rushed out, clothes barely on before you felt the front door shut, a cry of apologises leaving your lips as you tried to assist him but Simon only held you back, a tight grip coiling around your arm.

“What the fuck was that? How’d you get in?” You couldn’t even place the words to say, humiliation roaring through you as you snuggled the sheet closer to you, away from his peering eyes.

“It’s time to be a family again, don’t you think love?”

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

You were his. You were all fucking his. Your gorgeous smile, your beautiful body, your kind heart- it was all fucking his. And here you were, using him to pleasure yourself. It was a fucking dream, it had to be.

That was the only thought running through Simon Riley’s mind in that moment, as his eyes locked onto your figure. You had a death grip on his shoulders, your pretty nails digging into his skin through his shirt, surely leaving little marks Simon always fucking adored.

He watched as you ground your wet heat on his thigh, your head thrown back and mouth wide open. You let out soft whines, as your sensitive clit rubbed up against the fabric of Simon’s jeans.

Simon pulled your face down, desperate to kiss you, desperate to feel his lips against yours, desperate to taste you. He slotted his lips against yours, relishing in the soft mewl you let escape in his mouth.

Your nails found solace in his hair, your fingers twisting at the soft brown strands before digging them into his scalp. Simon groaned, his own hands perched on your hips, guiding your movements as you continued to grind against his thigh.

It all became too much, the taste of your sweet tongue against his, the soft moans you let loose into his mouth, the wetness pooling on his jeans from your soaked core, the feeling of your nails digging into his scalp.

Simon ripped his mouth away from you as the coil in his belly snapped, his cock twitching in his pants causing a spot of wetness to form on the crotch of his jeans. “Oh my fuck, fucking hell.”

You stopped your movements, your wet heat laying still on top of your lieutenants thigh. Your brows furrowed in confusion as you looked down at Simon. “Si? Are you okay?”

Simon’s eyes landed on his crotch, his cheeks burning red upon realizing he just came in his pants. Untouched.

“I..uh.. ‘m fine.” Simon muttered, unable to look at you. He was mortified, he’d never once had this happen to him before and he hadn’t a clue of what to do. Surely, surely you’d judge him.

You bit your lip softly, fully realizing what had just happened, and it made your heart race. You never realized the effect you had on your lieutenant, on your lover.

You sank to your knees, ignoring the dull ache between your thighs as you slowly moved to unbutton Simon’s jeans. You nearly had his pants off before his hand stopped you, causing you to look at him.

“Please, don’t. I uh…” Simon’s words trailed off as you slowly dragged your tongue along the wetness on his boxers. He had to bite back a moan as he watched your eyes roll back, your tongue continuing to lap at his arousal. “W-what are you doing?”

Simon had to remember how to breathe when you looked back up at him, your pretty fuckin’ eyes blown with lust, a small devious smile dancing on your lips. You pulled his cock out, biting your lip at how soaked it was, before dragging your tongue across the tip.

“I’m cleaning up my mess, sir.”

Surely, this was a fucking dream- but Simon never wanted to wake up from it.

[selidor]

[loserboysandlithium]

The Pact: Eddie Munson One Shot

Summary: As children, you and Eddie made a pact to never cross that line. But as the two of you have grown it has become almost impossible to keep. You decide to make a new pact instead. ;)

Explicit sexual content, Minors DNI, word count 3k, moved over from my old account 🖤

*******

"Eddie!" you knock loudly on the door of his trailer. His van is here so he's gotta be home.

"Eds?!" you try again, banging on the door even louder.

He's probably still sleeping. The boy doesn't wake up earlier than noon, especially on a Saturday.

You close the screen door and make your way around the trailer to his window. It's cracked slightly and the smell of weed immediately hits your nose, making you smile. He's up.

You push up on the old window, listening to the squeak as it struggles to move. "Eddie!" you shout through the crack. Again, no response.

You roll your eyes as you use all your strength to lift the window enough to crawl through. You climb in head first and tumble onto his floor. As you sit up, your eyes adjust to the dim room. You see him lying on his back on the floor, headphones on his ears, his fingers tapping away as he listens to the music.

No shirt, his tattoos on full display. Hair pulled back into a messy bun, loose curls sticking out everywhere. A pair of dark green flannel pajama pants hanging low on his waist.

Fuck, he looks good.

You watch as he brings his fingers to his lips, inhaling on the joint, releasing a cloud of smoke into the air. You tiptoe across the floor, hearing the tune of 'Dirty Women' by Black Sabbath coming from the headset as you lean over him.

His already round eyes widen even more as he sits up quickly, his head slamming into yours.

"Shit! Are you okay?" he shouts over the music still blasting in his ears. You reach out with one hand removing his headphones, leaving them dangling around his neck as you rub your forehead with your other.

"Easy Tiger." you giggle and he gives you a crooked grin. His eyes are glossed over and slightly red from his activities.

"Sorry, didn't hear you comin.” he explains, pointing towards the earphones.

"Yeah, I got that.” you smile, shoving his shoulder lightly as he scoots a little closer to you.

"Thought you were coming by tonight?" he raises an eyebrow as he stands up, holding his hand out to you. You grab his hand and he pulls you from the ground.

"My shift got canceled and I was bored." you shrug, reaching out for the joint in his hand.

"I have an idea.” Eddie says suddenly, his brown glinting. You inhale deeply on the joint and wait for him to continue. He stands there silently, eyes zoning in on your chest.

"Eddie!" you smack him upside the head bringing him out of his daze and he shakes his wild hair.

“Sorry.. I'm high." he shrugs with a little wiggle of his brows.

"Your idea?" you push.

"Right.. the clubhouse. Let's hotbox." A slick smile spreads on his pretty lips. Every time you're together, you have to fight the urge to kiss him. To touch him. To beg him to touch you.

You had both made a pact. An oath. You were best friends. You couldn't cross that line. But now.. every year it gets harder and harder to keep it.

I wonder if he feels the same.

"Hello?” Eddie snaps his fingers in front of your face teasingly.

"Mhmm.. yeah. Let's go." you grin at him and his smile widens. He walks over to his nightstand, swiping up his little lunchbox.

You make your way outside, following the familiar trail into the woods behind the trailer park. You used to come here all the time together. Staying up, eating bags of candy and telling scary stories until Wayne would come and drag you both out.

You reach the rickety ladder leading high into the trees and glance over at Eddie, a nervous look on your face.

"When's the last time you've been up here? It looks... well, it looks like we're gonna die if we attempt this."

"Oh, we're fine. Come on. You first." he encourages, his hand landing on your waist. The small touch sends tingles down your spine.

"Why do I have to go first?" you groan, grabbing hold of the wooden plank.

"That way I can catch you if you fall." he explains, keeping his hand resting gently on your side. You take a deep breath and begin your climb.

"Shit!" you squeal as your foot slips on the third step and you fall into Eddie, his free hand lands on your ass, holding you up.

"Oops." you laugh, turning to peek at Eddie. His hand remains in place making you blush.

“Eds?" you nod towards his hand and he just smiles.

"Total accident, sweetheart. Swear." he cheeses. Your heart starts to pound in your chest. He's flirting. Shit, no... He always flirts. It's just friendly banter. Normal for the two of you. But is that all it is? Fuck.

You continue up the ladder, Eddie following close behind until you reach the top. You push the Spider-Man sheet to the side and crawl into the small treehouse. Everything looks about the same. A few new additions since the last time you've been here.

An ashtray sits in the corner, a stack of playboy and hustler magazines sprawled out, some empty beer bottles.

"Eddie Munson.." you giggle, shaking your head in mock disappointment.

Eddie plops on the dusty floor reaching out and snagging one of the magazines. "What? A man has needs."

"Ew." you joke, grabbing his lunchbox, plopping a pre rolled joint between your lips.

"What? You don't uh, take care of yourself?"

The question catches you off guard. But even more than that, his tone. It was much deeper than before. You hope your cheeks aren't as red as they feel as you meet his gaze. You light the joint, inhaling deeply, holding the smoke in your lungs a moment before exhaling.

"No, I do." you whisper, taking another toke.

Eddie watches you curiously, scooting a little closer to you in the already cramped space.

"You gonna share?" he winks at you, making your heart flutter. He's so close. All I want is to taste him. To finally give in.

"Hey, you okay?" Eddie nudges you playfully with his foot, shaking you from your thoughts. You nod sitting up on your knees in between his sprawled legs. You bring the joint to his lips and his eyes lock on yours as he inhales slowly.

You inch closer, the slight buzz from the weed making you more confident.

"Are you about to kiss me?" Eddie blurts making you pause.

"What? No!” you snort shoving his chest hard, making him fall back to the dirty floor. He coughs, the smoke filling his lungs coming out in small spurts as you move back to your spot against the wall, feeling a wild mix of emotions.

He scrambles to get back up, immediately coming to sit in front of you again. “I- uh- I wasn't gonna stop you.. if you were going to... ya know?" he mumbles under his breath.

You meet his big brown eyes, the same eyes you've looked into for years and years. There was no mistaking it. They were darker. Full of hunger. A hunger for you.

Shit.. say something. Anything. Your mind goes blank. Every part of you wanting to just kiss him.

The other part of you worried about your friendship. The whole reason the two of you made the pact.

"The pact.” you breathe.

Eddie speaks next, leaning back slightly, twisting one of his rings on his finger.

"Who do you think about when you touch yourself?" he burns lowly, his eyes searching your face.

"What?”

"Who do you think about?" he asks again, his eyes remain locked on yours.

You. Always you.

You shrug instead, keeping your thoughts to yourself.

Eddie nods slowly, taking another long puff off the joint before handing it your way. The small area was already cloudy with smoke as you both continue to add to the haze.

"It's not like we made a blood oath or something."

Eddie says after a few minutes. Both of you now feeling the effects of the high.

"We literally made a blood oath." you argue, a smile on your lips as you think back to the two of you pricking your fingers with a thumb tack.

"We were thirteen." Eddie pushes back, moving over so he's sitting right next to you. You can feel his body warmth radiating against your side. When you turn his face is only inches from yours.

"Where is this coming from?" you whisper.

"I just.. fuck, I don't know. Just, look at you." Eddie breathes out, his words making your entire body warm.

"Who do you think about?" you ask suddenly.

"I don't know what you mean." he grins widely, forcing you to ask him directly.

"When you touch yourself.. do you just think about those girls in the magazine?"

"Sometimes.. sometimes I think of someone else." he hints as his hand gradually makes its way to your thigh.

"Me?" you swallow hard, barely pushing the word out.

"Do you think about me?" he challenges, his hand resting heavily on your upper thigh.

"Yes." you admit. You knew it wasn't the drugs.

You've always wanted Eddie. But the buzz was allowing you to finally speak your truth.

You can tell he's happy with your answer, his face lighting up. His brown eyes gleaming.

"Show me."

"I don't under-'

"Show me what you do when you think about me." he cuts you off swiftly.

Holy shit. Your mind fills with wild thoughts as you take what he said into consideration. You can feel yourself throbbing at the thought. Touching yourself in front of him. Eddie's eyes watching you as you bring yourself to your peak. Would he touch himself too?

Before you can change your mind you guide your hands into your shorts, listening as Eddie inhales sharply.

"Fuck." he exhales, watching carefully as your hand meets your warmth under the material of your shorts. You close your eyes, worried that if you see him you might overthink everything.

Right now it just felt good. So good.. and you know he's watching.

"I close my eyes." you start, slowly rubbing circles around your clit. Eddie hums in response, waiting for you to keep going.

"And I see your face. I-I think about how your lips would feel.. your tongue. the sounds you would make..." you moan as you slip two fingers inside, feeling your arousal.

"What else?" Eddie rasps, his lips suddenly against your ear, his voice makes you speed up your fingers.

"I think about how you would feel inside me.. if you would be rough.. if you would.. ohh.. if you would make me scream."

"I promise I could make you scream." Eddie burns. You feel his fingers on your chin, turning you to face him. Your eyes drift open and Eddie presses his forehead against yours as you work your fingers in and out of your soaked pussy.

"I think about your fingers a lot... your rings.. I pretend my hands are yours.." you whimper, feeling yourself on the edge but not quite there.

You don't want your fingers. You want his.

"Eddie."

"You gonna cum, sweetheart?"

"I want you.. I want you to make me cum.." you whine desperately, only seconds away from your orgasm.

"Yeah?" he pants breathlessly.

"Please." you beg. He wastes no time reaching into your shorts, you remove your fingers just in time for his to replace them. His slender fingers immediately reach exactly where you need them to, curling with precision, stroking across your g spot making you cum instantly.

"Yes! Oh fuck!" you cry, your muscles pulsing around his fingers, Eddie watches in awe as you fall apart beneath his hand.

"Holy fuck.” Eddie groans deeply, slowly working you through your orgasm.

You grab him, slamming your lips into his pulling a moan from him instantly. He leans in, his body pressing you down to the floor as you tangle your hands in his hair.

Fuck.

He tastes like weed and Camel Blues as his tongue greets yours hungrily. You both kiss sloppily, soaking up this moment. After all these years, both of you finally getting what you want.

Clothes are torn off. No more hesitation as you both paw at each other, kissing and biting, the eagerness apparent from both of you. Moans and the sound of messy kisses fill the room.

"Fuck me." you plead with him as your bodies grind together, skin on skin, so close together.

"We need a new pact." he pants breathlessly, lining himself up.

"Mhmm." you moan, feeling his tip start to stretch you out.

"The new pact is that You're mine." he moans as he thrusts himself in, entering you fully, a filthy cry raining from your lips.

"I'm yours." you whimper, your fingernails digging into his back as he begins to pump in and out of you.

"We have to seal it, sweetheart." he mumbles drunkenly, picking up his pace. His size is unlike anything you've had before, your legs already shaking slightly, a tinge of pain mixed with the beautiful pleasure.

"What do you- oh!" you gasp as his teeth sink into your bottom lip just hard enough to break the skin. You feel the trickle of warm liquid dribble down your chin.

"Shit." you breathe out before returning the favor, taking Eddie's plump lip between your teeth and tugging roughly making him growl as he slams his cock into you.

"Goddamn, baby.” he groans, kissing your lips, gliding his tongue inside. A metallic taste fills your mouth as your tongues swirl together wildly, your blood mixing together in your kiss.

"Call me baby again." you whimper, rolling your hips, grinding on his big cock. He feels so fucking good.

Eddie chuckles bringing his lips to your ear as he fucks you powerfully. His cock glides in and out of your slickness, the sounds loud in the quiet of the woods.

"You like being my baby?" he murmurs in your ear.

"Yes!”

"You feel so fucking good.. so fucking good." he praises, entering you deeply with every snap of his hips. Your head falls to the wooden floor as your back begins to arch.

"There we go, sweetheart." Eddie hums approvingly as your thighs begin to tremble.

He keeps himself buried deep, rolling into you, his thick cock filling you to the brim. He thrusts into you precisely, finding your sweet spot making your toes curl.

"Eddie! R-right there!" you whine, the pleasure of someone fucking you right for the first time was unlike anything you'd felt before. You didn't know sex could feel this good.

"Gonna take care of you, sweetheart.. I got you." Eddie reassures, keeping his pace, in and out, in and out.

His lips lock onto your neck sucking harshly. You grip the back of his head, holding him to you, the feeling of his lips sucking your skin felt delicious. His fingers meet your clit, quickly rubbing circles on the sensitive nub, making your eyes roll.

"Please don't stop... I think.. I think I'm gonna..”

"Cum for me, beautiful.” Eddie demands in your ear, sending you over the edge. You pull his hair roughly as your body jolts upward, your pussy clenching around him, spasm after spasm as you flood his cock.

"E-Eddie! Ohh my god.. f-fuck!" you practically scream, Eddie loving every second of you writhing beneath him. Watching as you make a mess of his cock. You can feel your cum coating your thighs as he continues to pound into you.

His hands tangle in your hair as his lips meet yours feverishly. Your entire body is overwhelmed as you cling to him, it's almost too much but you don't want it to end. He lifts your leg onto his shoulder, the new angle making you gasp.

"You're so fucking hot." Eddie moans, the sounds coming from him are everything you imagined they'd be. Even better.

"We're gonna cum together." Eddie orders as he leans down, taking your leg with him, his hard cock somehow reaching deeper.

"Together.” you whimper, feeling him stretch you out again and again. He speeds up, slamming into you wildly, your legs shake as you grasp for him, wanting him to be as close as possible. He leans down even more, you feel the strain of your leg muscles as he bends you in ways unknown to you before.

He sinks his teeth into your neck making your eyes roll to the back of your head as your nails claw at his back, sending red streaks across his tattoos.

"Gonna cum…. wanna cum inside you.." he mumbles, his hips moving at an insane pace.

"Cum inside me, baby." you moan, completely losing all sense of anything but him as he fucks you senseless. A few more hard thrusts and you feel his cock twitch, his warm cum spilling into you as he moans your name.

"Fucking Christ." he laughs breathlessly as he collapses on top of you. Both of you lay there silently, your chests rising and falling rapidly as you come down from your high. You run your fingers through his curls as he rests his head on your chest.

After a few minutes you hear the crunching of leaves below you causing you both to sit up suddenly.

"Edward!" Wayne's voice calls from below.

"Shit."

"Come down here and eat your damn dinner.. 20 years old and still playing in a damn treehouse." Wayne mumbles as you hear his footsteps heading back through the woods.

You both look at each other and burst out laughing.

"Dinner, m'lady?" Eddie smirks, rounding up your clothes.

"Dinner sounds perfect.” you smile at him, feeling happier than you’ve ever felt.

[perfectlyscentedturtle-7]

Autumn Leaves🍁🍂✨️🧡💛💚

[strawberrypoundtown]

Alright, hear me out I am thinking... Werebear. I just can't get my mind off of the idea of a werebear with his little round ears and fuzzy tail who gets disturbed while trying to hibernate (Which he's admittedly not very good at)

That's it, take it and run girly~

(OH it's just a quick one shot- sike, this was a lot longer than I planned and I had to cut some of it for another time lol I should have made it two parts, but whatevs

Enjoy the show - Strawberry 🍓)

Dummies Guide To Hibernation

Clayton Briggs x Fem!Reader

You move into a new apartment complex and notice your next-door neighbor being a lot more secluded and withdrawn lately as the winter creeps in. One late night, as you're walking through the hall to your door, you notice the door to his apartment is wide open...

Contains: unprotected sex, breeding kink, size kink, light free use kink (?)

You had moved into this apartment complex just shy of 3 months ago. You were still getting your bearings, having not lived completely alone before. You always had roommates or family living with you, so finally being completely alone was strange. Your apartment complex wasn't very big. There were only two other apartments on your side of the hall, yours sandwiched between the two.

The older werewolf woman that lived on your right seemed to be pretty calm and quiet, albeit a bit paranoid. She looked to be about 40-50 years old, but could have been older. You hadn't seen her leave the complex property before, so you just chalked it up to her being a bit of a recluse. You occasionally grab her mail for her when she asks, and she's always grateful, giving you a handful of candy before sending you on your way.

The man that lived on your left was a very different story. You two had met late at night when he offered to help you move a very large chair that you had bought a few days after you moved in. You were struggling to get it into the elevator after regretting that you had ordered the orc size for the chair and not werewolf of something. Damn you and your enjoyment of large furniture.

A large, burly man with a bushy brown beard had appeared behind you during your struggle. His curly golden brown hair was short and messy. He seemed to be around a staggering 7'3" tall, easily towering over you. He was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, steel-toe workboots, and a reflective vest that people used on construction sites. Of course, you assumed that he just got off of work and was getting impatient with you hogging the only elevator. You were about to apologize for being in his way and try to get the chair out of the way when he put his massive hand on your forehead, gently moving you out of the way. With a faint grunt, he easily moves the chair into the elevator. He stands in the elevator with the chair next to him and enough space for you to stand next to him. He holds the elevator door open for you as he stares at you. He notices you hesitating and looks away from you, his dirt covered cheeks turning a bit red as he looked away from you. He was still waiting for you.

"O-oh. Thank you." You said softly with a smile as you looked up at him and stepped into the elevator. You clicked the button for your floor, and he nodded in response as he moved his arm, letting the door close. "You must be one of my neighbors. I just moved in about a week ago. It's a pleasure to meet you."

He let out another grunt as he nodded once again, only glancing at your occasionally as he avoided touching you in the cramped elevator. Saying he was a large man as an understatement. You had to strain your neck to look up at him, but looking at eye level or lower was even worse. He was built like a truck with a nice layer of chubbiness. He seemed so soft, so nice to hug. You just wanted him to pick you up and hold you. It was hard to focus on anything but him as his chest was only inches away from your face. You could tell that he had a very strong build, and you love a large dad bod. He was covered in dirt and sweat, but his scent was still a bit too nice for your comfort.

As the elevator doors opened, you found yourself trying to scramble out the door and out of the way as quickly as possible. You had let out a sigh of relief, trying to calm your racing heart as he lifted the chair out of the elevator with ease. He immediately started walking towards your door.

You quickly got out your keys and jogged down the hall to open your door. He moved quickly, so he was already at your door by the time you got there. Once your door was open, you led him inside your cozy apartment and towards your livingroom. As he stepped inside, he was surprised at the decore you already had up. Pictures and posters and a few fake plants with fairy lights pinned to the ceiling.

After he put down the chair where you told him to, he noticed the rest of your furniture. It was all fairly large, at least the size for most werewolves, but all covered in pillows and blankets to make it cozy. He felt like just looking at your apartment would make him fall asleep. He needed to leave. Your heart sank a bit, following him as he immediately turned to walk towards the front door.

"Thank you for your help! I don't know what I would have done if you didn't help me. I'm sorry I bothered you on your way home-" You say, but he cuts you off by holding out his hand to you to shake. You take it gently, and he begins to speak.

"Don't worry about it. If you ever need help with anything, I live next door on your left. Apartment 400. I'm pretty handy." He says softly as he looks down at you with a blank expression. His voice was deep and intimidating, but it made you feel safe and warm. His hand was big and rough, but he held your soft hand so gently, like he was worried about hurting you.

"Oh, thank you. I really appreciate that. Um... could I get your name? My name is (Y/n)." You say with a smile, staring up at him as your other hand comes up to rest on top of his. His cheeks turn a bit red once again as he stares at your hands for a moment before looking back into your eyes.

"I-I'm Clayton..." He says shyly before pulling his hand away and taking a step back. "It was nice to meet you (Y/n). I need to go." He said bluntly, his eyes avoiding yours as he rushed off to his apartment door. For such a large man, he sure was quick. You didn't even have a chance to say anything before you heard his door slam shut. You worried you angered him, but based on his pink cheeks, you assumed that he was just shy.

Over the next month, you would start conversations with him whenever you would see him. He would always stand and listen until you were done talking. Occasionally, you would mention that you were trying to do something in your apartment and would ask what kind of tools you would need. He would tell you, seemingly happy that he could give you advice. However, he never seemed to let you take his advice, because before you could even get the tools you needed, he would be over with his toolbox ready to go.

Need a shelf put up? He did it. Need your sink unclogged? No problem. He got it cleared. Need your lock replaced because your ex found out where you lived? He replaced your entire door and got you a doorbell camera.

He never accepted any money from you, always saying he just wanted to be a good neighbor and make sure you were safe. He did, however, accept food. You always made him a big plate of whatever you were eating that night. He always seemed to enjoy it after he got home, the plates returning to your front door completely clean the next morning.

However, as the fall passed and the winter started, you saw Clayton less and less. Whenever you would see him, he'd look absolutely exhausted, and you had noticed him getting thinner. He also started to occasionally walk around with his cute stubby tail and round ears out due to how little energy he had. You had found out from your other neighbor that Clayton was a werebear, so the winter season made him exhausted all the time. You felt bad for asking for so much of his time while he should have been preparing for hibernation, so you took it upon yourself to make sure he was eating enough.

Every day, you brought a container of food over to his door and left it in front of his door. You would leave a note on the container before knocking and running off so you didn't bother him further. The clean, empty containers would show up in front of your door the next day with a note that just said 'thank you'.

What you didn't know was how much it actually meant to him that you had been helping him in return. He had always struggled with his hibernation, having been raised by a pack of werewolves after his parents adopted him. They did their best, but he was never really taught how to hibernate properly. It didn't help that he had insomnia, which was very inconvenient for the big guy when it came to his hibernation time. Thankfully, during the winter, his construction jobs slowed down a bit, but it still took a lot out of him. Cooking himself dinner at the end of a long day was out of the question, so he usually got take out or nothing at all.

Imagine his surprise when he started getting food dropped off at his door every night. He loved your food. Everything you made was delicious, and he always licked his plate clean. You were so sweet with how you helped take care of him. The smell of the fantastic food you cooked flooding the hallway was amazing, but your scent had him even more entranced.

Ever since you had moved next door, just your scent from the hallway was enough to comfort him. He had already thought you were cute when you moved in, but as time went on, he fell for you even harder. Your more domestic side showing lately had been the killer for him, though. You would check in on him and give him food, a reassuring touch, like the angel you were. He wanted to help take care of you like you took care of him. He wanted you. He needed you. He always had such a hard time leaving your apartment because of how cozy it was. The moment he would walk in, he would feel like he could pass out on the floor and still be comfortable. He wished he could sleep in your orc sized bed with you and show you how much he cares about you.

He would listen unintentionally as you would take a shower or get ready for bed. The walls were so thin, and with his hearing as good as it was, it was impossible for him to ignore your whimpers from the other side of the wall whenever you'd be masturbating. Whenever he had gone in to help you put up a shelf in your bedroom, he could smell the arousal in the air from when you had given yourself an orgasm shortly before he arrived. He struggled to hide his erection the whole time. Just imagining what you did to yourself when you were alone made his dick throb in his jeans. Being able to smell that you were ovulating didn't help.

He knew what everything meant. You were his mate. He just had no idea how to tell you without sounding completely insane. You were just a human. A very soft, sweet human that surely only had the best intentions whenever they would interact. If only he knew how further he was from the truth. You had wanted him just as badly, if not more, but didn't want to make him uncomfortable. He just seemed shy to you, and you didn't want to scare him off. For such a big guy like him, you had hoped food would win him over. Every time you had him over to help fix something you didn't understand, you would fantasize about him driving his cock into you and letting out all his pent-up frustrations. And cum.

Once you found out he was a werebear, you did some serious research. You learned about how he needed a cozy environment he could use as a 'den' and how much he needed to eat. Werebears didn't sleep 24 hours a day, but they needed at least 10-14 hours of sleep every night to function somewhat normally during the day. They tend to need to eat a lot to keep up a healthy layer of fat. They can also get very, very backed up if they don't have a mate to hibernate with as they typically don't socialize during this time. You didn't know what his apartment looked like, as he had never invited you over, but you wanted to make your home as inviting to him as possible for when he came over. Especially your bedroom.

You were happy you rented in a monster-friendly apartment building due to the fact that you had an orc sized bed from the last place you lived in. It was at least 9' long, and you were always swimming in it, so you always had it loaded with pillows and stuffed animals and soft blankets. You figured that if you got some extra large blankets for him to use, he would be more inclined to come over.

But lately, he was so tired he had let his ears and tail show, his arms and chest extra hairy as it peaked out of his clothing. He was trying to conserve energy, and you noticed him not snoring much at night when he should have been sleeping, but still going to work in the morning with dark circles under his eyes. You also noticed that as the next full moon approached, he was struggling more and more to hold it together. He was nearly falling asleep standing up and more shuffled than walked to his apartment. You started making more and more food for him to leave by his door for when he got home.

Tonight was a full moon, so you knew you had to make him a lot of food because he was going to fully tranform tonight. The containers had started coming back broken with apology notes and money attached, so tonight you had gotten some disposable containers. You made him a huge spread of various roasted vegetables and fish and put all the containers in front of his door, saying that if he needed to, he could crash at your place.

That leads you to this moment, you standing outside Clayton's door. You heard him stumble home about 20 minutes ago and growling for about 15 minutes until a loud thud hit the floor. It shook your apartment, and you instantly rushed over to see if he was okay. You noticed the door was cracked open and hesitantly pushed the door open. Your jaw dropped as you saw his living conditions. It was clean, but barely had any furniture to keep clean in the first place. All he had was a large futon in the livingroom and a TV with a gaming set up.

You hear groaning coming from what you assume to be the bedroom as you carefully creep in. You peer down the hallway to see a large furry mass in the dark. A mess of ripped apart food containers were scattered down the hallway to in front of the bed. You gingerly made your way down the hallway as you tried to get a better look at him. You could tell he was already fully transformed, and it almost sounded like he was... whining? As you got closer, you noticed that he was so big half his giant furry body was hanging off the bed. He was facing away from you, but you could hear him panting and whining as his nubby tail wiggled. He was a giant ball of fur and you slowly walked up to his face. His head was huge when he was transformed. He looked like an adorable grizzlybear, minus the giant sharp claws.

"C-clayton?" His eyes snap open at the sound of your voice. Your sweet, beautiful voice. "Are you okay?... I heard a loud thud, and your door was open..." You were so kind. He couldn't believe you actually walked in here to check on him. He didn't know what to do. He was embarrassed at how his place looked. He had been so tired lately he hadn't wanted to do anything special for his hibernation, but he was regretting it now.

He bashfully looks away from you and scoots his head closer to you. You crouch down and gently run your fingers through his fur. His fur was so soft you gently rest you head on top of his as she scratched the fur around his neck. He lets out an odd growl that almost sounds like a purr as he nuzzles into your chest. He inhales your comforting scent deeply. You smell so sweet... He had to carefully pull his face away from your chest before he tried to rip your tank top off. He had noticed you weren't wearing a bra and wanted to know what your breast looked like so badly. He caught himself staring at your chest before looking up at you with his beautiful golden eyes.

"C-can I crash with you? Please?... this is bad..." His voice was hoarse as he groaned. He regret pushing his body so much and ignoring his need for a proper den. He knew your place would be perfect based on what he had seen so far. Not only that, but he would be able to convince you to share your large bed with him. It had been so long since he could cuddle anyone during hibernation...

"Of course you can. I just need you to follow me." You said softly, and you went to stand up. He stood up with you, and you couldn't help but freeze for a moment as you took in his large form. He was nearly 9' tall, staring down at you as he breathed heavily. All he had on were some boxers that were way too small once he was transformed. You could see the outline of his thick cock through the fabric. He put one of his giant hands on your shoulder and sleepily followed you next door to your apartment, being sure to at least close his door before he leaves.

Upon stepping into your apartment, he has to use his hands on your wall to stabilize himself. Walking through the threshold of your home and being hit with a wall of your scent was overwhelming. He stumbled through your apartment as carefully as possible, trying not to knock anything over. You had to guide him to your bedroom, him ducking a bit through the doorways. As he saw your bed, he let out a sigh of relief. The mass of pillows and giant blankets looked so welcoming.

"I-I hope it'll be okay. At least better than your place..." You let out a soft giggle as you opened up the bed more for him to crawl in. He didn't waste another moment before carefully crawling onto your bed. The bed dipped under his immense weight. You thanked yourself for getting a reinforced bedframe when you got your giant bed.

"Oh fuck." He groaned out as he fully laid down, his body going limp as he finally felt his body fully relax for the first time in ages. Fully stretched out, he's just as tall as the bed, but all the pillows and blankets with the softness of the mattress are perfect. He feels like he's in heaven as he turns onto his side and closes his eyes. His breathing began to get heavier, and you assume he's already starting to fall asleep. You grab the biggest blanket you have from your couch and as you lay it over him, his eyes slowly open. He stares at you for a moment as your body is illuminated in the moonlight peering in from your window. He hadn't really gotten a good look at you yet, and it was a good thing that he didn't. He wouldn't have been able to make it over to your apartment if he noticed you were only wearing a tanktop and tight boxer shorts. He could already feel himself getting hard under the covers, your scent overwhelming as he let out a soft groan.

"Clayton? Are you okay?" You ask with a worried tone. Your caring eyes are so beautiful in the moonlight. In a flash, you were pulled under him while letting out a loud yelp. He was proped up on his elbow on his side next to you, his other hand on your hip as he leaned over you. He held your body so close to his, trying his best not to rip your clothes off of you immediately. He leans down and nuzzles his face into your neck so all he can smell is you. He was annoyed at how your scent was so comforting but wouldn't let him sleep. He was pent-up, and you were his mate that made a den just for him... he needed to do something or he felt like he was gonna explode.

He moved one of his knees in between yours as he stared into your eyes, running his hand from your hip to your thigh to guide it to hook over his leg. Goosebumps appear all over your body as you feel his sharp claws drag across your skin. As you were held there on your back, you could feel his hard cock against your thigh. Fuck you were turned on. You didn't know what to do but stare back into his glowing eyes and follow his lead. He leaned in close to your face, bearing his sharp teeth as he struggles to find his words.

"I really need your help tonight (Y/n)..." He mumbles as he moves from smelling your hair to burying his nose in your collarbone.

"Look, I'm flattered... v-very flattered, but I'm not really a fan of one night stands." You say nervously, knowing that you'd want way more than just one night with him. His large, rough tongue rakes up the side of your neck, making you let out an involuntary moan.

"Who said I wanted a one night stand?" His hot breath brushes against your neck, causing goosebumps to go down your body. "I want you.. All of you... Always." His teeth ran across the skin in the crook of your neck as he inhaled your scent deeply. "If you want me, I'll stay... please..." He pleads with a deep growl. He sounds so desperate for you. You wouldn't have thought the stoic man next door would be reduced to a horny, cuddly mess, but here you are. "My mate..." He growls as he palms one of your breasts through your thin tank top, careful not to scratch you with his claws. The pressure of his body against yours is overwhelming in the best way, every touch lighting you on fire as you couldn't help but let out soft moans.

"P-please stay Clayton..." You begged as your self-control went out the window, grinding your hot mound against his leg. Your words and actions made him suck in a breath, pausing as he stared at you. He suddenly turned onto his back, pulling you on top of him to straddle his waist. He used his claws to rip a huge hole in your shorts, exposing your dripping wet pussy. You pulled your tanktop off quickly before he ripped that off while he ripped away his boxers. His massive cock sprang to life, smacking against your wet pussy lips softly. He pulled himself up to bring you in for a kiss, groaning as he

You bit your lip before grinding your cunt down along his dick. It was too dark for you to see properly, but his dick felt similar to a werewolf's dick, but much bigger. You hadn't taken someone that big before, so you were secretly happy that you were in the middle of masturbating when you heard him come home...

"Oh fuck." He strained his head back against the bed as he moaned. His hands reached up to hold your hips in place, rolling his hips back against you to get more friction against his sensitive cock. His hands were massive, both of them nearly completely encircling your waist as he held you in place. He fought against the urge to use you like a living fleshlight immediately. He felt like he was getting high off the scent of your arousal.

You brace your hands on his soft forearms as you find your footing by his sides. His waist is too big for you to straddle normally, but you don't care. You're gonna do your best. You were getting impatient, as he could feel from how his cock was completely drenched from your juices. He raises his head up to look at you, letting out soft whimpers as you pull your heat away from his needy dick. You earn a low growl from him as you decided to grab his cock and line his dripping tip up with your aching hole. His grip on your hips tightens, and you feel his claws threaten to break your soft skin. He applauded his self control in his crazed state, although every fiber of his being was telling him to just bury his cock deep inside you now. He needed you so badly.

You press yourself down on his dick, your arousal and his precum acting as lube. His cock slides into your pussy easier than he expected, but you're still struggling to take his size. His cock was so thick it stretched your pussy to the absolute limit and you were loving every second. You had only taken him about halfway, and yiu didn'tknow how much more you could take. You were trying to hold your moans as much as possible, but the attempt was futile. You groaned out in pleasure as the shape of his cock rubbed against your g-spot with every movement.

Clayton stared at you hungrily, growl in his throat that resonated through his whole body. You could swear you felt his dick vibrate, but then again, it might have been your walls fluttering to accommodate his size.

He suddenly snaps his hips up into yours, his hands on your hips keeping you in place as he buries his cock into you up to his knot. The drastic shock to your body made you scream out in pleasure. Your pussy stung as you felt the bulge at the base of his cock press against your pussy. You feel him shudder under you as you clenched your pussy around his length. You're given very little time to adjust before he starts moving your hips for you.

"F-fuck, I'm sorry... I can't control myself right now... you drive me fucking crazy... you're so fucking tight..." He growls as he watches your boobs bounce in front of him. He may have you on top, but he's the one in control. He holds your hips so firmly it may leave bruises, using your body as his personal sex toy. He is so desperate to cum, wanting nothing more than to fill you up and get you pregnant.

He wanted you to be the mom to his cubs. You were so sweet and kind. You could teach them how to make a den much better than he could. You felt so amazing stretched out on his dick. You were just so addicting.

Every movement he made you do made you feel just as crazy as him. His cock hit all the right places, your pussy quivering around him as you felt yourself getting close to cumming. Every slight curve and bend of his dick felt like heaven as he bounced you faster to chase his own release.

"I'm so close. I'm not pulling out. I want you to take my knot and have my cub..." He grunts, whimpering as you feel his dick twitch inside you. He's close, and so are you.

"Y-yes please! I want your cum in me, please! Make me cum!" You beg him, completely giving into the pleasure. You couldn't take it anymore. You were so close it almost hurt.

"Rub your clit for me, honey." He orders and you don't think twice before one of your hands finds your clit, your fingers working your sensitive clit while he works you. It only takes a few more seconds before you throw your head back, moaning like a bitch in heat as your orgasm washes over you like a tsunami. As you begin to cum, he snaps his hips up to meet yours, thrusting his huge knot into your already strained pussy. The rough action causes you to scream, squirting all over his crotch as your quivering pussy milked his cock. His dick throbbed inside you as he let out a roar, his claws scratching your hips while he came deeper than anyone had before. He filled your plugged up pussy so much your belly bulged slightly. You both struggle to catch your breath as his grip on you slowly relaxed. He couldn't help but stare at you and your beautiful body, your sweat shining in the moonlight through the window.

"I hope you're okay... I didn't hurt you, did I?" He groans out, a bit worried that in his haze he went too far. Your exhausted giggle eases him slightly.

"I'm more than okay..." You admit with a grin. Clayton chuckles in response as he feels his knot start to go down, letting him slip his cock out of you. You whimper and whine as he pulls his cock out, suddenly feeling every empty as his cum pours out of your used hole. He lets out a relieved sigh as he turns onto his side and pulls you close to him.

"I'm glad you're okay..." He whispers to you as he stares into your eyes with adoration mixed with exhaustion. You can't help but smile as his large body and thick fur make you feel like you have a living weighted blanket. His presence was just so comforting to you.

"I hope you don't mind hibernating with me." You say. He pulls you in close as he arranges the pillows and blankets around the two of you, using his arm as a pillow for you. He finally pulls the blanket over the two of you and wraps his other arm around you.

"Honey, I don't think I could have hibernated without you..." He says softly, ending in a yawn as you both settled in to get some sleep. As you two embraced each other, sweaty and satisfied, you couldn't stop thinking about how Clayton would be a really good dad. You secretly hope his seed already got you pregnant as you fell asleep cuddled into his chest. He took another good look at your gorgeous face before drifting off to sleep himself. Both of you were soon dreaming of your belly swollen with his cub and little kids running around.

He could get used to this.

[luveline]

(𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞) 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

Steve hears you wrong, thinks he’s your boyfriend, and begins to act accordingly. You try your best to go along with it until you can’t anymore. 3k, fem. requested here ♡ 

cw shy(ish)!reader, misunderstandings, steve being a huge sweetheart, fluff, hurt/comfort, bonus fluff scene 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The arcade is loud and brisk this evening, doors thrown open to allow for the constant ebb and flow of younglings, the machine music turned up to account for so many voices. You’re lost in a sea of rainbow flashing lights and the ticklish smell of sugar. Without Steve’s hand behind your shoulder, you’re pretty sure you would’ve gotten lost and trampled half an hour ago. 

A candy necklace pinwheels past your heads like a torpedo, forcing you closer together, your shoulders tight with a flinch. 

“We can leave,” Steve says immediately. He’s weirdly thoughtful. Before he asked you out you had no idea he thought so much about other people, but he’s always thinking about other people. You could argue he thinks a little too much, like you. 

“I wanna see Max.” 

“She has to be here somewhere.” 

That theory proves less and less likely. Steve’s hand falls away from you, tugging through his hair in a marker of stress as you circle the Palace Arcade for the tenth time. “Maybe she quit?” you suggest. 

Steve’s eyebrows pinch together as he gives the arcade another sweep. Max’s rough patch freaked him out, as it freaked you out, because ‘rough patch’ is a kind way to describe it. She could’ve got a whole lot worse; she was suffering, capital S. It’s nice to see her returning to society, but not if she isn’t actually settling in. That’s the whole reason you’re here. 

Steve frowns at you worriedly. 

“Who died?” asks a new voice.

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Max!” Steve cheers. 

“That’s me,” Max says, looking at you both sceptically. Her ginger hair is pulled into two tight braids either side of her face, her cheeks flushed red. Mascara paints her usually pale lashes a darker brown, and a rosy tinted chapstick shines on her lips. 

“Hey, the uniform looks good on you,” he says affectionately. “You look like a valued member of society.”

“A society in need of better labour laws. I’m pretty sure this is child abuse.” She rolls her eyes. 

“Is it awful?” you ask. 

“It’s fine. Better when your stupid friends aren’t here making themselves sick on candy like they’re nine years old,” she says pointedly to Steve. “Are you going to throw up too? You look–” she grimaces in place of insult. 

“Who’s throwing up?” you ask. 

“Dustin. He’s outside.” 

Steve sighs and gives your shoulder a kind squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” he says, squaring his expression. “Goddamn kids.” 

He sounds like an old man, you think to yourself with a small smile. Disgruntled, he still goes to make sure everyone’s alright. He’s nice, even when that nice is begrudging and tiresome and plain gross sometimes. 

“Why are you smiling at him like that?” Max asks.

You school your impression. “Like what?” 

“Like you like him.” 

You shake your head. “Tell me about work, Max. What’s it like here? Are they giving you your breaks?” 

She drags you over to the counter to sit in the seat waiting behind. She glares at any kid who approaches, but besides that she seems in good spirits. The job isn’t hard, it’s just a job. She’d much rather be at home reading, but wouldn’t everyone? “And I get this sweet uniform,” she says, pointing at the embroidered icon on her shirt pocket. “What’s with you and Steve?” 

“Nothing,” you say, though it’s something. You’re mortified to have been caught having feelings. 

“Looks like something. Are you dating?” 

“I mean, this is a date,” you say, almost whispering as heat floods your face. “But we’re not together.” 

“He was touching you a lot.” 

“Max, he’s really nice. He’s a really nice guy,” you say gently, “and we’re not together, but if he does ask me out eventually, maybe I’ll say yes.” You realise what you’re saying and attempt to backtrack —you do like Steve, but Max doesn’t need to know that. “It’s not like he’s my boyfriend,” you say strangely. 

“Ew,” Max says with a laugh. 

“Not ew,” you correct. You hadn’t meant it in a bad way, it’s— 

“Not ew,” Steve says from behind you, his arm a heavy weight across your shoulder. 

You look wide-eyed up at his face, surprised by his huge beaming smile, an intense loveliness about him as he gives you a half hug. 

“What’s ew about that?” he asks you softly. 

Oh, boy, you think. 

As it turns out, being Steve’s girlfriend is kind of nice, but you aren’t ready.

From that afternoon at the Palace Arcade onward, he treats you like you’re made of gold. And it’s great, he’s so kind, he brings you flowers and takes you out for breakfast, where he pays the tab without any flourishes and talks to you as casually as always. You almost hope he hasn’t got it wrong at all, and that his soft tone a few days ago had been down to a brief overwhelming fondness. You’d get that. You have your moments with him, you’re falling for him, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re desperately in love, you’re sure, but then the waitress asks if you need anything else and he says, “Just a water for my girl,” and you realise you’re not getting off easy. 

Dating is sort of like being good friends; you’d planned to spend the day together anyways. You enjoy his company. It’s clear he’s eager, optioning off the day’s agenda as you return to the car, the bottom of your face hidden in your bouquet. 

“We could go to the movies,” he says, opening the passenger door, his smile seemingly permanent as you climb inside. “No science fiction, I promise.” 

“I kind of like sci-fi.” Petals press fragrant to your top lip.

“Well, we don’t have to go to the Hawk. We could go into the city. I bet they’re playing any movie you wanna see.” He checks that your leg is properly inside the car before he closes the door, jogging around to the driver’s side and practically throwing himself inside. He’s giggling like a kid. “Shit, I’ll see anything you want to.” 

“Steve.” 

“Or we can go do nothing? Until dinner.” 

“Steve,” you say again, thinking you’ll tell him. Nothing good ever comes from dishonesty. 

“What?” he asks. 

His eyes are so brown. Billions of people with brown eyes and you swear you’ve never seen anything like it before, their centres like hot honey, the sweetheart shape to them when he smiles 

You sigh. His smile is contagious, even while your stomach hurts. “Nothing. Let’s go see a movie.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“What?” 

“What do you mean, what? You sounded weird.” 

“I sounded weird?” 

“No!” He winces. “I mean, yeah, you sounded weird for you, like you… I don’t know. Sorry.” 

You feel bad, then. His apology is earnest, his hand resting open on the console for you to take if you could manage the flustering heat of it. 

“I wanna go to the movies,” you say, ‘cos you really do. 

“Alright, good. It’s just, I think my last relationship, I– I didn’t pay enough attention, and I want to do that better this time around. So yeah. Sorry.” 

Oh, Steve, you think. How are you supposed to tell him now? You’re gonna have to pretend to be ready for a relationship with him until you really are, it seems. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart played with twice. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “Let’s go watch a movie, okay? I want to go, with you, we’ll watch a shitty daytime flick and then get dinner after. It’ll be fun.” 

You aren’t lying to him about what you want. It’s clear to everybody, Steve and his friends and especially you, that you like him, that you want to be around him and make him laugh. Maybe being his girlfriend won’t even be that different to being his something. 

After all, what’s romantic about seeing a movie? 

“You good?” he asks, half an hour later, your agony prolonged. 

You’re at the back of the movies where the seats have the most leg room, more popcorn and candy than you could ever eat at your feet and a litre cup stuffed into the armrest between you. Steve is tucking his shirt back into his jeans, his head parting the light of the projector and leaving a silhouette in the previews. 

“Steve,” you advise, gesturing for him to lean down out of the way. 

He leans down, further and further, face to face with you with his hands on his hips. A flirtatious teasing makes its way onto his lips. “What?” he asks, amused. 

“You were in the way of the light.” 

“That what it was?”

“Seriously!” you whisper-shout, laughing despite yourself. 

“You’re so cute,” he whispers back. “Want to take your jacket off?” 

Your lips part at his good suggestion. You hold your arm out and start to peel from your jacket, but he takes your sleeve and helps you out of it before folding it and sitting in the seat next to you, your jacket on his thigh. “How’s that, babe?” he asks. 

“It’s good.” 

“Okay, perfect.” He beams at you. He’s always smiling when he’s with you, like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Like he loves you. “Tell me if you need something, yeah? I know you’re kinda shy.” 

He settles back in his seat with your jacket still in his lap and no indication that he might want to move it. Your knees touch as he relaxes, your knuckles as he puts his arm on the rest between you, a picture of contentedness as the movie begins and the opening credits play. “That’s us,” he says without looking at you. 

Two people walk down the street holding hands as the title of the movie blazes in yellow font with thick red outlines. A Day In Paradise! 

You bite down on a slither of the inside of your lip until it stings. You try to fight it off but the longer you sit there, the more your eyes burn, thinking about Steve and what he deserves and how unfortunate this whole thing is, and yeah, you’re overwhelmed, too. You aren’t ready for so much sweetness all at once. You don’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve this. 

You force the tears away. The movie goes on and on, the lights low, the chatter of moviegoers and the occasional popcorn crush not nearly loud enough to cover the sound of Steve’s breathing. 

He pushes his hair out of his face. Somebody on screen makes a joke, his hand brushes against yours, and then takes it gently as he laughs. 

You pull your hand away and tip your head down, a frantic tear flicking from your lashes. 

“You okay?” he whispers. 

You try to answer. You whimper instead, a terrible, sorry sound stuck to your throat —you can’t hold it in anymore. It’s too much. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble tearily, looking up, a tear rolling fast down the bump of your cheek. 

Steve sits still in moderate horror. “Why are you crying?” he whispers.

The thing about Steve that people tend to forget is that, while he takes care of people the best that he can, he’s really young. He doesn’t always know what to do. He stares at you now like you’re a foreign object, hand tucked back into his abdomen. 

A tear drips onto your lip. It tastes salty. “Sorry,” you say. 

“Why?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“I really like you, Steve.” 

He stares at you. “…But?”

“But I–” His frown hurts your heart. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this, I never– never had someone like me like this, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You say that last part to yourself rather than him, scrubbing your cheeks with your hands roughly before hiding your face completely. “It’s not you.” 

“I thought…” And of course he did. 

“I know,” you say. “I’m sorry, Steve. I thought it wouldn’t matter but everything’s going so fast.” 

He touches your arm gently. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought you wanted this. You– you said I was your boyfriend, to Max? I thought you liked me.” 

“I do like you,” you insist, meeting his eyes. 

“Can I wipe your tears away? They’re everywhere,” he says. You struggle to read his expression, but there’s no resentment or anger there for you. He looks quite serious. 

“Yeah.” 

Steve bends in his seat to wipe your tears off of your face gently. They really are everywhere, on your cheeks, your top lip, your chin, even down the arc of your neck. “I don’t understand,” he says, going back to your cheek for a missed streak, “but you don’t have to be upset. Please. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, I promise.” 

“Steve, when I was talking to Max, I said,” —you wince— “that it’s not like you’re my boyfriend. She was asking me about you, and I got all panicky because I like you, but I’m too weird about this stuff, I’m panicking now–”

“Don’t.” His hand lingers on your face, before a sorry flash of dejection passes over him, and he drops your face altogether. 

“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please believe me.” 

“Of course I believe you.” He grimaces at you, and the heartbreak turns to something more manageable, like he’s brushing himself off. “I’m sorry. For getting the wrong idea.” 

“I like you,” you whisper. Your voice is nearly lost to the rustle of popcorn and drinks. 

“I like you too!” he says loudly. 

A few seats down, somebody turns, an angry whirl of hair and clicky nails. “Can you guys shut up?” 

You and Steve leave your mountain of snacks behind to stand in the theatre hallway, where the winter air is cool on your flushed skin, and the silence is stifling. You lean against a wood feature wall and try to calm down, because he’s the one who should be upset (or maybe he’s not that fussed about you). He stands a half foot away with his arms crossed, looking down at his shoes, though occasionally he glances at you for a split-second and looks away again. 

“You okay?” he asks tightly. 

“I’m sorry.”

He pokes his cheek with his tongue. “So you don’t want to be together?” 

You don’t know. He deserves the truth, even if you barely understand it yourself, and it stings to say. “I do, I like you, but I… I want to take things slowly.” 

He stands there without talking for a while. When he does talk again, he’s laughing, that achy awful sadness he’d worn a far off memory. “You’re this upset because you want us to take things slow?” 

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” 

“You haven’t,” he promises. “That would never hurt my feelings. I knew when I heard it that it was too good to be true.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I gotta earn the title like everybody else does. Is that… cool?” 

You nod vehemently. 

Steve blows a relieved breath of air up his face, his hair ruffling off of his forehead. “I thought I was gonna lose you completely,” he says, smiling. “This is fine. I can work with slow. Slow’s my middle name.”

—♡—

The sun is a blistering heat today. “Can’t believe it’s only spring,” you murmur, eyes covered by the back of your arm. 

A weight sits down on the blanket beside you, the sound of dry grass crushed underfoot. He brings the fresh scent of lemon slices with him, the zest sticking to his hands.

“I think I might melt.” 

“I’d never let that happen,” Steve says, laying down beside you. 

“You can be my parasol.” 

“Your what?” 

“It’s a sun umbrella.” 

“Like this?” he asks, gently laying himself across your front, his face on the slip of your stomach that’s bare, his arms sneaking behind your thighs to hug them as you bring them up. 

You reach down to stroke his hair, taking your fingers through the silky lengths of it, fingernails scratching ever so slightly at his scalp. “Thanks,” you say.

He kisses your naked leg. “You’re welcome, honey.” 

If he’d done that at the beginning of your relationship, you’d have frozen up; not because he would’ve done it differently, not because he wasn't always your handsome sweetheart, but because being comfortable with someone this intimately takes time, and that’s okay. 

“Your face is digging into my hip,” you murmur. 

He shifts back, his ear above your belly button. “Is that better?” 

“That’s perfect.” 

“Are you falling asleep?” he asks softly. 

“No… I’m thinking.” 

“Nothing good ever comes of that.” 

“I have something I want to talk to you about.”

“I love talking to you,” he says. He sounds as though he might fall asleep himself, his tongue heavy in his mouth. 

You stroke his hair away from his face by touch alone. Long, warm minutes pass without conversation. You aren’t scared to tell him how you’re feeling. He’s proved to you over time that he’s someone you’ll always be able to trust, and that whatever you have to say will hold weight. 

“It’s a question.” 

He turns in your hold to face you. You raise your arm, greeted by the image of him sun-kissed and lazing, laid out across you without a care in the world. 

“Don’t tell me then,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, you’re terrifying.” 

“Would you wanna be my boyfriend?”

He narrows his eyes at you. A myriad of emotions pass between you both, until he’s smiling, and you know he’s sitting up for a kiss seconds before he actually does. He presses his lips to yours carefully. “Baby,” he says as he pulls away, voice as mild as his soft kiss, “I think we’ve passed that point.” 

“I realised I’d never asked you, is all.” 

His hair falls down into his eyes. You tuck it behind his ear. It’s pretty clear now you’re together, even after such a bumpy start. 

“Can I get it in writing this time?” he asks, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering closed in tandem. 

“Give you anything you want if you kiss me,” you murmur. 

His laugh fans over your lips. He cups your cheek, your heart a hummingbird drilling at your ribs as Steve moves in to kiss you properly. Your lips part under the pressure, your head tilting a touch to one side to accommodate him as he searches down for you, melty hot pleasure and nerves that never seem to fade arising as his thumb moves up your cheek, a semi-circle of touch. It promises undulating care whenever you want it. 

You tip your head aside to catch your breath.

“Better late than never,” you joke. 

Steve talks into the soft skin beside your mouth. “You weren’t late, babe. I was early, and I didn’t mind waiting.” 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank u for reading!! pretty please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed cos it means so much to me and inspires me to write even more!!! but either way i hope u enjoyed❤️❤️❤️

[merakidoll]

soo … all i can say is im ovulating ��� this is a part for my best friends mom series

“mmm rub her faster mama” connie stood above you, his sock covered feet sinking into the mattress as the camera flashed repeatedly above you. your ring finger shined against the flashing light of him photographing how you fingered yourself. “one more finger you can do it. you take more with my dick baby” being much older than connie you thought the relationship would have challenge, tribulations. but really the only tribulation was you hiding him from your son.

“yea, pretty ass pussy with a big ass ring” connie zoomed more into your wet cunt that was leaking all over the covers. he took a pictures just as jucices dripped from your clenched hole to your ass. “c-connie” you whined bucking into you hand, connie slowly getting on his knees. he paused his photoshoot to place a gentle kiss on your puffy clit, a smirk on his face that let you get a glimpse of his shining grills. “what ma’ma?” your eyes rolled to the back of your head when your fingers touched a spacific spot. connie immediately putting the camera back up and dropping a large wad of spit directly on your hole making your legs shake.

“m-moveee!” you tried kicking him with your foot, connie laughing at you and grabbing ahold of the body part, turning the camera on video mode and towards himself. “my baby such a slut” he looked into the camera smiling, still using his other hand to hold you foot. “mm” he said to himself looking at your pretty white toes, his mouth moving before he could think. tounge swrirling against your big toe making sure the camera caught how he groaned against your feet - saliva dripping everywhere, while you cried- pussy pulsing in the background.

connie tuned the camera back towards you, a evil laugh fall from him as he let your foot go, and let the camera get the view of your pussy and face. pretty brown tits laying on your chest the went up and down quickly. “you finna cum baby?” connie knew you were, already seeing the thick cream gushing out of you, just when you stomach began to bubble, connie moved two of his fingers to rub your clit while the three in your hole worked faster.

“c-connieeeoooo s-stop! g-gottaaaa-” you couldn’t even let him know what was happening before squirt started shooting out of you. connie’s obnoxious laugh was in the video- him angling the camera to capture how he got his face closer and opened his mouth drinking up everything you had to offer. in the shoot, connie’s hand shook as he pulled out his own tan dick that was red. he began pumping himself for the camera. your cunt finally done and leaving you a twitching mess. “yea, fuck- love this pussy!” he let go of his cock to slap your pussy making a small wet sound erupt in the room setting him off.

“l-love my fuckin wifeee” his threw his head back camera falling on the bed, as his cum painted your pussy, the camera only getting the sexy sound that came from you both.

[loves0phelia]

Casual

Summery: Casual things you and JJ did before starting to date.

Words: 2k

Warning: bad grammar

A/N: This is my first JJ fic hope you like it

Rumours about the annual beach bonfire had been heard all week, the one night where Kooks and Pogues set aside their differences and partied in peace. 

Initially, you’d planned to skip it—staying home with a good movie sounded way more appealing than hanging out with half of the outer banks on the beach. But when a classmate invited you, and your parents chimed in, insisting it would be a great way to make new friends, you found yourself agreeing to go.

The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the sand as laughter and chatter echoed around you. You found yourself sitting on a wooden log, idly watching the orange flames dance. 

Your train of thought was interrupted when a blond boy dropped beside you, his sudden presence snapped you back to reality. You glanced over, surprised, as he settled in with a casual smile.

“I haven't seen you around here before” his body was turned completely to you, giving you his entire attention.

"I just moved here a couple of months ago…" you said, feeling a bit shy as you glanced at his deep blue eyes.

JJ hummed and then noticed the small stash of candy in your lap, carefully guarded under your arm. 

"What's that?" he asked.

You hugged the candy closer, "Candies, I didn't know if there was gonna be any snacks here so… I brought my own" You shrugged.

“Can I have one?” he grinned mischievously.

“I only have my favourite left” You looked down at the nearly empty box of Sour Patch Kids.

"Come on, just one. Sharing is caring, you know?" JJ chuckled, leaning a little closer, his arm brushing yours. He reached out, but you swatted his hand away, giggling.

But JJ was quick—faster than you expected. With a winning grin, he managed to snatch a piece from the carton box in your lap, popping it in his mouth before you could protest.

“Hey!” you exclaimed, half-annoyed, half-amused.

“I'll see you around sweets” After that he walked away still savoring your candy.

“what the hell” you muttered under your breath, you had not expected your night to end with a candy thief.

It was a typical evening at the local seafood shack, and you were rushing between tables, balancing trays of oysters and fried shrimp baskets. 

"Well, look who’s working hard," JJ drawled, flashing his usual grin.

You turned around, surprised to see the thief from the other night leaning casually against the counter. The last person you expected to see at your job, but somehow not a surprise at all. He tossed you a wink as you grabbed your notepad and pen.

“Candy thief,” you said, arching an eyebrow.

“That’s me,” JJ replied, laughing. “Pretty sure I’ve got an order under the name JJ Maybank.”

“Finally, I can put a name to that face.” You rolled your eyes playfully, turning to grab the brown bag labelled JJ Maybank, filled with fish tacos and crawfish. As you handed it over, you asked, “Anything else with that order?”

He leaned in, flashing that signature smirk. “Yeah, I’ll also take your number if it’s on the menu.”

You felt a blush creeping up but managed a smirk. “Bold request for a thief.”

JJ shrugged, still grinning. “I thought it was the special tonight. It's written on the window” You glanced at the window where the words “chefs special monday-friday” reflect back to you.

“I thought a sweet like you was the chef's special, my bad” he added only worsening the state of your red cheeks.

After a pause, you scribbled your number on a napkin and slipped it into his bag. “Consider it one-time only.”

JJ’s eyes lit up as he took the bag. “Perfect.  I’ll call you, then I'm gonna  take you out somewhere that doesn’t smell like shrimp!" He yelled across the restaurant and disappeared behind the doors leaving you with a bunch of customers staring directly at your flushed face.

It was nearly midnight when you heard the faint, familiar tapping on your window. Smiling to yourself, you tiptoed over and pulled it open, revealing JJ’s face. He climbed in with ease, careful not to make a sound, and you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh as he landed lightly on your bedroom floor.

“Hey,” you whispered, watching him recover from his fall quickly and proceed to settle on your bed.

“Make yourself at home” You laughed and followed after him under the cozy and soft blankets.

JJ wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close as you both lay back. The quiet murmur of the movie playing on your TV plays in the background, but all you can really focus on is the warmth of his presence. You’d only known each other for a couple of months, yet moments like this already felt like second nature.

After a while, JJ sighed a hint of playfulness in his voice. “You know, it just hit me… I haven’t even taken you on the date I promised the first time I saw you at your work yet.”

You turned to him, amused. “I forgot about that. So where would you take me, then?”

He thought for a second, his eyes lighting up. “I was thinking we could go stargazing, just you, me, and a bunch of candy. What do you think about that, sweets?”

Your heart fluttered at the nickname, he's been calling you that since day one but the butterflies never fail to flutter and you smiled, feeling a little bashful. “That actually sounds perfect.”

JJ’s face softened as he brushed a stray hair from your face. “Good.” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, and you nestled into him, many would say you were a couple but nothing was official yet.

JJ was stretched out on your bed, casually tossing a piece of candy up and catching it in his mouth, while you looked through dresses in your closet Kiara had invited you to Midsummers—something you never thought you’d actually attend, given how much of a Kook affair it was. But after some convincing from her, you decided to give it a shot. Now, the only thing left was choosing a dress, and naturally, JJ had found himself roped into being your fashion advisor for the night.

“Alright, what do you think of this one?” you asked, walking out of your closet in a dress to show him. It was a soft, flowy, baby blue, with delicate lace along the sleeves.

JJ, mid-candy toss, froze, the small piece landing unceremoniously on his chest as he sat up.  

“Wait… you’re actually wearing that?” he asked, blinking as if he needed to make sure he’d seen it right. “That has to be like a 100 bucks”

“Kiara said I should try something fancy, and I found it at the thrift store… I don’t know, I thought it was cute.”

JJ nodded, still staring at you as if he couldn’t look away. His usual air of easy confidence had completely vanished, and he just sat there, a little pink creeping up his cheeks. 

“Yeah, uh… fancy. Right,” he murmured, his voice unusually soft. For a moment, he seemed completely at a loss for words, a rare sight when it came to JJ Maybank.

“You don’t like it?” you asked, feeling a hint of embarrassment creep in as he continued to look at you in silence.

He shook his head quickly, snapping back to attention. “No, no—I mean, I like it. I just… I mean, you’re already beautiful and all, but in that?” He let out a soft whistle, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re, like, the most stunning person, there’s no denying it.”

You felt warmth rise in your cheeks, his words catching you off guard. JJ wasn’t one to give out compliments like that, and hearing him say it made your heart skip a beat.

“So you like it, huh?” you asked, teasing him a little as you nudged his shoulder.

“Sweets, I don’t think anyone’s ready for how good you’re gonna look. And I, for one, am officially honoured to be the first to see it.” He gave you a look that was half-amused, half-awestruck.

“Alright, then,” you said, smiling as you looked down at yourself. “Guess that means I’m wearing it.”

JJ leaned back, his grin widening.

“Good call. Just so you know, though, I’m calling dibs on the first dance.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Oh, you are?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, winking. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Besides, I have to make sure one of those Kooks doesn't try to sweep you off your feet 'cause that's my job.”

It was warm outside the night of midsummer,  the soft hum of laughter and chatter filled the air. You were standing by the snack table, chatting with one of the guests— a boy dressed with a fancy tuxedo, you had no interest in.

As you fake laughed at a joke he made, you felt a gaze burning into the back of your neck. You glanced over your shoulder and saw JJ standing by the door leading inside the house, his arms crossed, a tight frown on his face. There was a look in his eyes—something dark, almost possessive—that made your stomach flip. He wasn’t happy about something.

You turned back to the guest, unaware of the growing tension simmering behind you. It wasn’t until you felt a light tap on your shoulder that made you turned to see JJ standing right behind you now inches away, a forced smile on his face.

“Hey, mind if I steal you away for a second?” he asked, his voice a little too bitter for your liking.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at your lips. “Steal me away? What’s going on?”

JJ’s gaze flickered to the guest you’d been speaking with, then back to you. The jealousy was barely concealed, but it was there. “I need to talk to you. In private.”

Before you could protest, he gently guided you away from the boy, leading you through the house and into the backyard. The garden, draped in the soft glow of fairy lights, felt like a world apart from the party in front of the house. You walked slowly, and when you reached the center of the garden, JJ stopped. 

“What’s up JJ?” You asked concerned.

“I hate seeing you with him,” JJ said, his voice barely above a whisper. He was standing too close, his gaze fixed on you with a burning intensity. “I don’t know why, but it drives me crazy”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean? We were just having a conversation.”

He shook his head, the muscles in his jaw tightening. “It’s not just that. It’s… it’s the way you make me feel. I can’t stand it anymore, pretending like we're just friends”

You stared at him, realizing what he was trying to say. The way his eyes softened, the way his voice shook with vulnerability and emotion.

“I—JJ, what are you saying?”

His hands cupped your face gently. “I’m saying that I love you. I’ve loved you for so long, and I’m tired of watching you be close to some other people without them knowing you're mine”

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing into yours. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t slow. It was desperate, full of the passion and longing that had built up between you over the months. His hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as if he never wanted to let you go.

You kissed him back, your heart racing, the entire world fading away until it was just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s arms.

“I love you, sweets”

“I love you too JJ, it was about damn time you say it” he smiled against your lips and pressed another kiss after another on your pink swollen lips.

[shotmrmiller]

since Simon isn't one to celebrate much, whether it's a holiday or his own birth, it comes as a complete surprise that one day, he's lugging in a stuffed teddy bear the same height as him through the front door.

did you forget your anniversary? no, that was last month. you dog-ear the page of your book, paper folding neatly beneath your fingers before setting it down on the foot table. oh no. what did he do?

"nothin'," he scoffs, "can't bring my girl nothin' nice every once in a while?"

no, actually, he can't. this looks like a 6-foot apology. you ought to keep an eye on the news tonight, in case that young man from the cafe down the street coincidentally ends up missing after asking for your number in the presence of simon last weekend.

"well it isn't. i can take it back if ya like." the rich, chocolate brown fur feels incredibly soft as you thread your fingers through it.

"no, no. thank you for the oversized bear, i'll be sure to throw out the mattress so we can make it fit in the bedroom." you're no big fan of plushies, but you're no ingrate and if he thought of you when he saw this beast well, then you'll just have to accept it.

it sits in a corner of the room after that, beady eyes pointed your way even when you're on all fours with your sweat-slick face pushed into the bedsheets as Simon pistons into you from behind, or when he stuffs his fingers into your sleepy cunt before he goes to work in the morning.

(maybe it's his exhibitionist kink raging full force. who knows.)

until he decides to bring it into play when your mind is fuzzy from the glasses of wine you had for dinner that night. Simon, with your express permission, ties you up with a sturdy, coarse rope, the kind that feels like you've got tiny little claws digging into your calves and wrists when you try to move. he ties face down, legs and arms to the bear's, cheek flat on its chest, the bow on its neck sitting prettily at the crown of your head.

a doll, he says, roughened palms smoothing over the expanse of your bare skin, raising gooseflesh when he glides a hand along your folds, tip of his finger catching on your clit. lookin' pretty as a peach.

he takes you as if he's trying to fuck you right through the bear, the bed, the fucking floor and you're left to muffle your own cries on the stuffed animal itself, occasionally coming up for air when Simon claims a fistful of hair, breath warming the side of your throat.

you come the first time when he pushes a thumb against the furl of your arse, tight ring of muscle burning with the threat of him sinking into it.

(you stopped counting after the third climax, quietly cursing yourself for bagging a military man who's been so deprived of pussy he keeps fucking you even after his own orgasm.)

when you move it to clean up one day and leave it facing whichever way, by night it's facing the bed again.

definitely an exhibitionist kink.

you'll just ask him nicely to face him another way, the eerie red glow you sometimes catch in its eyes are starting to creep you out.