#apologies for the length!!! (that’s what she said?)

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

Onstage

What - it's nothing to panic about, Lori's secret pregnancy, Shane's changes for the worse, Sophia gone for over a week, and now a barn full of walkers. It's fine. No big deal, nothing is wrong, so you're gonna step onstage and act like it. On the bright side, Daryl isn't stuck in a bed anymore!

When - the morning after Keep this dog asleep. (the night where Glenn discovers the barn in Season 2)

Who - this is part of the Slowpoke Series, which is a canon compliant slow burn Reader x Daryl. You're also Shane's younger sibling

Pronouns - she/her

TWs - a few cusses, panic, bad screenshots

References - lots, y'all, want the Masterlist?

Length - longer bc I've been awol, I've been dreading posting again, friends, so thank you much for reading. Kind feedback is always welcome :)

“Goodness. You two slept together.”

“Wha—Carol!” you squeak, accidentally splashing some coffee on your hands while you’re at it, to which Carol apologizes, “Oops!”

Glenn and you fell asleep beside each other, by the fire pit. You two must have conked out while staring at the barn.

Brr, the sun hasn’t warmed the day yet, you’re like an ice-pop.

“Wh’appened?” Glenn mumbles, still half-asleep in Dale’s camp chair.

Carl, freshly freed from the house and now officially back to the tents, also wanted to know, “What was the joke?”

“Sorry, couldn’t resist,” Carol whispers in your ear and wipes the coffee off your hand with a tissue she had in her pocket.

That ship has sailed, Carol!

Lori smiles and shakes her head, and hands Glenn a coffee cup. “Carol was teasing them about having spent the night out here. Must’ve stayed up far too late having fun.”

“‘Fun,’” Glenn groans to himself, blindly nursing his coffee. You notice he winces and reaches for the back of his neck when he tries to bend it forward. Must’ve slept on it wrong.

“How late did you guys stay up?”

“I don’t even know, little man,” you answer Carl while reaching out for a hug. “But ‘far too late’ sure is correct.”

He returns your reach and hugs you back, tucking his head down across your neck like he used to when he was little. You press a kiss to his temple and hold him awhile longer, not wanting to let go first.

It’s good to have started the day on an up-note. You’re already on guard this morning. Less so about the genuine, bona-fide barn full of walkers on the property and moreso that Glenn won’t keep the secret long enough.

Which is backwards, but…the worry is that Shane will, um, and, and— oh God, and Carl can’t go near it! What are you gon—

“—Here, Maggie left these for you two.” Lori has returned and plunks down what resembles an Easter basket filled with peaches.

“Wait, should you be lifting heav—” Glenn cuts himself off, apparently having woken up a brain cell and remembering the pregnancy is still a secret.

You run onstage and speak up for Lori. “That’s how her arms stay so toned. Can you believe she hand-whipped the cream for the ambrosia?” Solid improv.

Lori seems to tamp down on whatever frustration she’s feeling. “It’s not heavy, Glenn.”

“Mom can lift so much, that puny basket of peaches is nothing,” Carl tells him, apparently thinking Glenn was being silly.

Rattled, it takes a moment before Lori recalls what she was talking about. “Maggie also gave us a bucket filled with tomatoes along with another big bowl of eggs. We have to find a way to thank them. They’ve done so much.” She sighs. “Even last night, we cooked the meal, but they provided the food. Meat, even. All we contributed food-wise was the field green salad and the two cans of creamed corn.”

You’ve got to keep it to yourself that by not revealing the Greene’s massive secret about a barn full of walkers, you’re certainly giving them some kind of fucked up recompense.

And like you said last night, there are worse things to be bribed with than food. In fact, you have no immediate plans to do anything other than sit here, miserably tired, in T-Dog’s camp chair and stress-eat peaches — and stick close to Glenn lest he get the urge to open Pandora’s box about that barn.

“Carl, Miss Patricia hopefully mentioned how the barn is unstable? They won’t even go near it, and we are forbidden.” You swipe a peach and have at it. The juice dribbles down your hand and chin. Carl smirks. You snort; at least he’s seen you look grosser. So, in a very ladylike fashion, you shove the rest of it in your mouth in one bite and immediately swipe another. “There’s some kind of vermin problem, too, and you don’t want none of them diseases rats and the like carry. Keep away.”

Mid-chew, you realize that you just lied flawlessly by slipping in truth. You’re not big on lying. In fact, you hate it. You don’t do it, or, at least you think you don’t? Do you?

This and the weight of last night’s inward decision that you made sits heavy in your stomach, making the peach sink like a rock.

You’re going to leave, with your brother. Shane can’t stay here, not when the news of the baby and now the barn gets out. You’ll even go to Fort Benning despite all your misgivings. Anything to keep things from imploding here when those secrets get out. Not, um, not that you’ll stay away forever from the group, just until, um…

Well, if looks are any indication, Glenn’s also busy being miserably tired and stressed. He was the one to discover the barn’s secret, first off. And he’s not good with secrets, and now has three to contend with. The pregnancy, Shane losing his temper and physically hurting you. And now, the stupid, stupid, awful barn.

“Did your head flop down when you fell asleep, Glenn?”

“It must’ve, it’s so stiff!” he mutters. “I can’t have a stiff neck when the…”

Smart, he knows not to finish the sentence and instead resumes warily eyeing the barn. You’re grateful your neck is fine and dandy, you’re in no fit state to mess up your neck or shoulder again. For real, by the grace of God, you’d fallen asleep nestled in T-Dog’s camp chair and your neck stayed blessedly straight and untwisted.

“We search for Sophia in groups, it’s all good,” you cover for him. Carl is still next to you, so the fewer questions, the better.

Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, but you’re restless. Seeking something to busy your hands with, you think to yourself you know what? Your friend could use a massage. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do, considering you slept together (lol).

Shoving the rest of the second peach in your mouth, you consider that slurping the juice off your hand may be a mite untoward, so instead you…wipe it on the clothes you wore all day yesterday and fell asleep in…such a feminine, classy woman. Didn’t even brush your teeth last night.

Whatever, a neck and shoulder rub is the least you can do for a friend you may not see again. “Glenn, I can do you a massage,” you offer.

“Wait. Really?”

“’Course.” Let’s face it, you may not see him again after you leave. Maybe no one here, just look at the track record of losing peop — oh my gosh, crybaby much? Get your butt back onstage and act fine.

“Can you, with your arm still wrapped like that?” he checks regarding your modified sling.

“Sure can.”

“Dude, that would be, like,” Glenn sighs, then you hear Lori call for Carl, who gets up and goes to his mother. “Thank you, that would be awesome, it hurts really bad,” your friend accepts.

“Eh, it’s the least I could do, considering last night we did,” pause for dramatic effect, “sleep together.”

“What the f—”

“—Bro, I know.," you drone. "That’s what Carol joked about a few minutes ago. Didn’t expect that joke outta her, right?”

“Slept together, now I get it,” he cracks up halfheartedly. But in an instant, his gaze gets drawn right back toward the barn and resettles into uneasy, blatant stare.

That rattles you. Suddenly, you become convinced he’s gonna spill the beans before the one week (at least one week!) trial. For a few moments, you feel breathless, as in you can’t inhale enough. That happened last night, too, you figured it was because of the cold air.

You cough, inhale extra deep. The sensation goes away. But now you’re starting to get mad. As you rise from the chair, you’re more than conscious of your inner kettle beginning to simmer. Not gonna lie, you sound snotty when you comment, “Glad to see they didn’t learn how to jump as high as a hayloft and find their way out yet.”

“Y/N.”

In lieu of any new comeback, you start on his neck. Immediately and likely without meaning to, he lets out a thankful groan. That warms you, and you remind yourself he’s worried for a good reason and that you love your friend.

And, strangely, then you think back to how you did this for Daryl, gave him a massage. How pleasant the closeness felt, how strange it made your stomach feel. How he’d silently cried but was vulnerable enough to ask you not to stop…

And with the jokes about you and Glenn, you’re feeling some unpleasantly conflicting emotions. Full disclosure, you’d had some hidden and very unwelcome hurt feelings when you found out about him and Maggie. Residual, you reckon, from when you’d two had a little fondness (lol Dale) for each other.

Really, you know it’s just that you’re lonely and things are stressful. Ugh, more than stressful.

“Wanna kick the ball around later with the others, see if the girls can’t beat y’all this time?” Together, Jimmy and he have been an unbeatable team so far, and you three girls want to change that.

“Anything to make the pharmacy trip suck less.”

You’d forgotten all about that. It’s supposed to feature none other than Glenn, Maggie, yourself, and maybe T-Dog. “That’s still on?”

Glenn shrugs. “I don’t remember. And I don’t want to go today, let’s do it tomorrow or Monday.”

“Fine by me. Naught dire we need yet.”

He unexpectedly exhales in pleasure when you must’ve hit a spot he needs worked out.“I haven’t gotten a massage since, like,” your friend sighs again, and he sounds weighed down when he continues. “Varsity baseball in high school. Appa was really good at shoulder rubs.”

“Oh.” A memory about his dad might will probably spark a whole lot of memories, and he’s still iffy about crying in front of people. “Want me to stop?”

“Heck no.”

“Are you cool with crying? Massages sometimes do that,” you hesitate.

“What do you mean?”

“I meant the act itself can make folk cry sometimes.” Especially if memories get brought up.

“Make ‘folk’ cry?” he teases. "You already used the word 'naught,' too, bumpkin."

You pause the massage to give him a very light shove. “Shut up.”

Breakfast is eggs again, you can smell them cooking. The Greenes have been very generous with eggs. And, of course, now extra-generous with the peaches and some tomatoes, apparently. Maybe the thrill of yellow squash or string beans is in the future, too.

Ooh, or dairy. Oh my gosh, or red meat! Jimmy mentioned they’ve made a ton of jerky what with all their cattle.

“G’morning,” you hear Shane behind you.

“Heya.”

“Morning, Shane.”

The razzing is clear in his tone of voice, but try telling that to Glenn as your brother says, “Lookin’ cute, you two. Didn’t know this was a thing now, I thought that ship had sailed.”

Yeahhhhh, Glenn wriggles away from your hands quicker than you can whine, “Shaney!” who simply cracks up, “Just teasing.”

“I’ll tease your face,” you wish you weren’t snickering back. “And you know my heart belongs to darling Theodore,” you add in an exaggerated accent.

T-Dog, unfortunately, hears, and utters a soft “Da hell?” aaand you cackle even harder. Surely he knows the not-so-secret secret that you think he’s a catch? Too old for you, but, like. What a gem.

“Glenn, my apologies.” Shane winks. “It’s too easy to rile this one up. And Dog, don’t worry.”

“It’s cool,” Glenn answers so awkwardly.

You scrunch your lips at your brother in an effort not to smile. He’s acting like himself again, the real Shane. You don’t feel as if you’re looking at a stranger, you don’t feel the urge to stay on-guard or stay onstage. “Proud of yourself?”

He shrugs with a lazy grin. “It is real easy to rile you up.”

“Mmhm, well I’m fixing to escape to Fort Benning right now, lemme just wash up first.” You insert this little seed in hope it takes root. He was planning to go there before things changed.

He was planning to go without your input or foreknowledge, too, but he was doing what he thought was best for the group. For Lori and Rick.

Until he didn’t anymore, according to what he said to Lori.

That night, the same day Daryl had almost died, was something else.

The things he said to Lori echo in your head, the confident flirting while she was visibly unreceptive and shaken.

Then you recall the way he’s been “pragmatic” and almost irritated about the continuing search for Sophia.

Then the way he blew up at you, hurt you.

And finally, how your first reaction to finding out there was a barn filled with walkers a mere one minute trek from where your people are sleeping in tents was to insist that the secret must be kept from Shane at all costs. That the secret had to stay that way because of what would happen if Shane found out.

Maybe it’s from sleeping too close to the campfire or because it was so chilly last night, but the breathing trouble is back. It's fine, this happened last night, it ended up being fine. You cough a few times to try and inhale more deeply and ease the tightness in your chest, but you feel strange and a little nauseous. Maybe you're coming down with something.

“Lemme take over here — aw, Glenn, hey, sit back on down,” Shane insists to your friend who just tried to escape. “Heard you slept on your neck wrong. That shit stinks, man. But,” he holds out his hands and wiggles his fingers. “I got so much practice with massages from this one’s migraines, I might should switch careers. C’mon then,” he says lightheartedly.

The unease you just wrestled with lessens. This is the real Shane, the confident, even cocky, but goodhearted one.

Ooo, your breathing feels a little better, too. Cool!

He looks at you and points with his thumb toward the house. “The uh, the little one, what’s the blonde girl’s name again?”

“Soph—oh! Um, sorry, y-you mean ‘Beth,’” you stammer, all the mirth from a moment ago zapped.

The look in your brother’s eyes changes from easygoing to dampened to cold.

He tries to sound nonchalant behind a thin veil of both defense and offense. “Yeah, the, uh, the teenager. She asked for you.”

“Okay. Thanks.” You’d be off like a shot if there wasn’t another potential time bomb to worry about.

Glenn.

To your friend, you assure in truth, “He does give a mighty solid massage.” But when you lean over enough for him to see your face, you can feel your eyes darken when you hold the finger to your lips and set your jaw.

And as you make toward the house with your coffee and another two peaches, you’re grappling with the fact that, in an effort to keep Glenn quiet so everything won’t blow to pieces, you’re behaving not unlike the very person that you’re trying to prevent from igniting the explosion in the first place.

Another worry is the way you so easily slipped in and out of being onstage.

You’ve always been one to insist on truth and honesty. It’s a badge of honor you wear with pride, and even Daryl, prickly grump Daryl, has mentioned it and appreciates that about you.

And yet, look at your conduct over the past week or so. You can certainly lie, and be believable at it. You don’t like that.

Oh, gross, you’re getting nauseous again.

As you near the porch, Beth’s soft, clear voice calls your name, and she exits the house to meet you. “I got somethin��� for you. Can you come upstairs?”

“Sure. Your dress is cute!” comes out automatically. You’re still dazed and stressed. Her sundress really is pretty, though. Briefly, you consider how it would be nice to feel feminine again.

She leads you up the stairs, and it strikes you how odd it is that you have to go upstairs for whatever she’s going to give you, right? Then, you worry that it’s to do with the barn.

And you’re right.

Or, at least, you think you are. Maggie is upstairs when Beth brings you there.

The tightness comes back, so you focus on your breathing and will your stomach to chill out. You're onstage, you need to perform.

“Y/N, hi!” Margaret says this a little overly chipper, even though her appearance suggests that she’s had about as much shut-eye as you, if not less. “Sleep okay?”

“A-About as well as you, I reckon,” you answer with a hint of humor and only a trace of a stress stutter. Buying time with a few more coughs, before you get too defensive, you play it off as if Beth does not know that you and Glenn know. “We stayed up far too late and ate way too many peaches,” you say the girl. Which is the truth, you aren’t lying! You aren't lyi — nope, don't you cry! Stay onstage, stay onstage, stay onstage—

—As it so happens, now is when you recall how you are currently carrying two peaches in your hand, so your cheeks heat. The urge to cry goes away, so small win. “I ate way too many, at least.”

Beth giggles. “I love peaches, too. I had peach cobbler as my birthday cake two years ago. The ones we grow are so good!”

“Thank you for the basket of food, by the way, it was very kind.” Very kind bribery, please keep it up, we haven’t had this much available food in months, in fact, we’ll probably do anything you ask us if you let us stay here!

“There’s plenty more where the peaches came from. The season’s almost over, but we still have bushels left to pick, the hens haven’t slowed production yet, and we’re almost out of canning supplies we’ve done so many,” Maggie responds.

Beth is opening a big trash bag on her bed that looks like it’s filled with blankets, so Maggie takes the opportunity to lock eyes with you again. She mouths, “Thank you.”

For not saying anything? “She doesn’t know we know?” you mouth back.

She shakes her head.

You relax muscles you didn’t know you were tensing.

“Yay, I got it open without rippin' it!” Beth exclaims. “Y/N, Maggie and I had gathered up a bunch of clothes for charity, but that’s when things got, w-well,” she halts, unsure of how to describe the outbreaks. “The bad things happened, but, um, we, well, we still had all the donations bagged. Daddy and Shawn also…” She quiets at mentioning her deceased older brother and turns weepy.

Her big sister finishes for her. “Shawn donated clothes, too. And Mom.” She swallows. “There’s plenty to share with your group, is what she means.” Maggie nods her head at the bag on the bed, then to two others on the floor.

They're sharing...all of those?

You don’t get a chance to ask it because Beth is already answering. “When I saw how y’all looked, it was scary. The,” she starts, then stops. “Not that you were scary, I meant y’all must’ve been out there a long time. It’s scary to think about.”

“In your defense, I did look scary the first time you saw me.” Wild hair, sweat-drenched, sobbing, and covered in Carl’s and your own blood. Rough day.

But having been ‘out there,’ as Beth worded it, it’s not so scary when you’re with a group you trust. It even feels comforting to have them all. Which is when you consider how Shane and you will be back out there in a couple weeks, alone.

“Here.” Beth shyly points to the bag. “I wanted to offer for you to look through the bags first. If, if you want.”

The offer is (more) bribery to keep you quiet, which cools the warmth of the charity, but doesn't lessen the grateful tears you spill. Plus, yes, you all could use some fresh clothes, there’s only so much mending that can be done. And to be offered first dibs, even if it’s just to butter you up, is still being offered first dibs. “I’d love to take a look, thank you,” you say in earnest.

Beth combs through the bag and chats in her shy manner, handing you a barely-worn, calf-length dress that had been gift for Maggie, then a (pure wool?!) cardigan their mother had been giving away.

You find it hard to believe that she’s doing this as bribery, Beth doesn’t seem the sort to easily conceal things. She’s got an innocence that hits as genuine.

But, then again, you who hate dishonesty are apparently great at it. Who’s to say she’s not, too?

The breathlessness briefly comes back. You clear your throat and cough once.

Beth next, to your apprehension and then delight, has you try on the dress and cardigan (which shockingly fit). While retying the modified sling around your upper arm, Maggie keeps trying to catch your eye again in order to, you don’t know, communicate something via meaningful glance? But you don’t have the bandwidth for it, so return her look with a polite smile and shrug.

Her little sister then proceeds to gussy you up in a way reminiscent of how Amy did once at the quarry camp to see how Glenn would react. Gosh, was that only two-ish months ago, wasn’t it? Or has it been longer? It feels like so much more time has passed.

Beth has manages a quick, respectable braided style for your hair, touches up your eyebrows for you, and even adds blush. She then claims that your hiking boots “look okay” with the ensemble and has you use the full length mirror in her closet to inspect the full results.

The dress is lovely, you have to admit. The neckline doesn’t dip too low bonus that it doesn’t show your bruise, the waist is defined, and it’s long enough past your knees to be comfortable. The length also helps lessen the lingering apprehension you have about showing natural (*cough cough unshaven*) legs.

You actually feel…pretty. Been a while.

It’s as if she knew you were yearning to feel girly again. If this is bribery, you welcome it. Worse ways of being bribed than with fresh food and a makeover from a genuinely sweet kid. And hey, since you have to be onstage so much, might as well dress nicely for the audience.

When you’re walking downstairs to bring your people the donations, Maggie murmurs in your ear, “Y/N, I didn’t put her up to any of this, it was all her.”

When you pull away from her, she whispers insistently, “It wasn’t her bein’ nice to keep you quiet. Remember, she doesn’t kn—”

“—Good mornin’, girls. What’s in the bags?” Patricia’s voice calls from the bottom of the stairwell.

“We had some clothes to donate since before Easter,” Beth answers. “I figured they could use ’em.”

“They certainly could. I’m glad I have plenty I brought from my house when we moved in.” You can see Miss Patricia in the hallway by the stairs, clearly wearing one of her late husband’s shirts over her dress. Her brows lift. “Seems you dolled your friend up some. You clean up nice, sweetpea!”

“Thank you, ma’am. I-I do feel like a lady again,” you allow, your cheeks again warming.

“Never stopped being one, as far as I’m concerned. Always kept your Ps and Qs,” she’s kind enough to maintain. “Oh, speaking of ladies, I don’t know how y’all are doing on girls’ supplies, but we should have enough to share while you’re still with us.”

“Margaret and I were gonna look for some more on the next drug store run tomorrow or Monday to make sure you’ll well stocked.” Along with everything else on the list(s) that was forgotten when those two…got distracted.

Ugh, how different things would be if you’d gone along for that trip! None of this barn bullshit!

Again, you feel the need to cough to help you breathe better, so you cough twice and try clearing your throat.

“Uh-oh, sounds like cold and flu season is well on it’s way,” she muses. “Don’t let me keep you holding them bags all day, girls. It’ll be funny watchin’ your daddy react if one of them ends up dressed in his giveaways,” the woman comments wryly. “Now, I did intend to check on those stitches today, Y/N, so come see me later. Hersh is just finishing up with Daryl’s, in fact, then he’ll be all set to go, if you were wantin’ to see him out.”

Oh, right! Today is finally the day he’s leaving that room!

Carl, too, but he’s already out and has been wandering around outside as much as his energy and mom will allow (which isn’t very much yet).

Daryl, on the other hand, has been too dizzy and too ashamed to do much more than a trip around the perimeter of the house.

Carol and you cleaned his tent yesterday as a surprise. It was her idea, of course. She enlisted your help specifically because you twice mentioned not thinking his sweat smelled bad, which is weird, but, for real, it doesn’t smell bad to you. The cigarettes, on the other hand, ew.

“Are we not going today?” Maggie asks quietly about the postponed pharmacy trip.

With tact, you suggest, “We could all use some rest after stayin’ up so late.”

She peers into your eyes, then nods and adjusts her hold on the two bags in her hands.“That’s a good idea. I’m not up to it, either.”

Upon stepping back outside onto the front porch, Jimmy and Glenn are kicking the soccer ball around already. Glenn is keeping his neck taut as he and Jimmy go back and forth, but the pain must have lessened.

The irresistible urge you have to make light of everything seizes you, and you leap into matchmaker mode because, why not? You won’t be here much longer, and maybe Maggie and Glenn linking up will lead to the rest being permitted to stay. That’s what matters.

Oh, and, uh, because you love Glenn, and Maggie is kind…oh fuck, are you just a calculating, cold strategist?

The feeling that you’re running out of air and going to vomit returns, but you push yourself onstage and commit to the role. You have to keep your shit together.

“Ain’t he handsome when he plays? Good sportsmanship and confidence rolled into one.” You playfully hold a smile back when you glance at Maggie and giggle to hide your heavy breathing. “Also the shiny hair.”

“He does have great hair,” she softly agrees.

“Y/N, do you and Glenn like each other? I-I thought…” Beth’s face has paled.

Maybe that’s why you over-act when you exclaim, “Of course I like him, that’s why I’m such a great wingwoman for him.”

Margaret blushes. “Let’s get these bags to their camp.”

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

Him

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

“I can’t hunt?”

“You can do as you please,” the old man remarks. What, is he making fun of him? “But doing so while recovering from a concussion would be foolish, as would be heavy lifting or other strenuous activity, and that’s not considering your collarbone and ribs. I’m curious as to how you’d wield your weapon or bring back what you hunted, for one, if you would even make it off the property without keeling over.”

Daryl bites his tongue and keeps his words to himself. Well, fine! I can still bring that little girl back. She’s got legs, she’ll be able to walk on her own.

Hershel cleans up his stuff and stands. “Now, then, I’m sure you’re ready to finally see yourself out.”

“Damn straight,” is probably not the smartest response in front of the old man, what with the cuss word, but damn straight he is ready to get the hell out of there. Still, he remembers his manners. “Thanks for everythin’.” He even holds out his hand for a shake. Which is dumb because the guy’s hands are full.

Daryl…puts his hand back down and grabs the few things he had in there with him. Y/N once described the Dr. Farmer as ‘unreadable.’ Definitely is that.

Unreadable, Hershel drawls, “It’s good you’re on the mend,” and inclines his head toward the door. “After you.”

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

You

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

Dude, you had a panic attack.

It wasn’t too too bad, all things considered. Initially, you’d thought it was a mild asthma attack, but in hindsight, wow you were oblivious to all of the signs.

It started to happen when some of the group was going through the clothes, right after Maggie and you dropped them off and she left to do choring.

Lori was beside you, low-key beside herself trying to figure out how your people could “ever repay the family now?”

Next, T-Dog joked about the sizes being too small for him. “Ain’t sure what here I could fit that won’t result in a show for y’all.”

This is when Andrea murmured to Carol, “Reminds me how it’s been awhile.” The way Carol reacted clued you in that it might have been a sex joke. Especially given the way Andy next gave your brother a once-over as if you weren’t right there. You vividly recall licking your teeth and rolling your eyes.

Then Shane — and he did this without having seen Andrea do the once-over — nudged T-Dog in the ribs and began to unbutton his own top. “Worse things than a show these days, friend. And that there clean shirt is calling my name.” Naturally, he proceeded to swap garments right where he stood.

Per usual, Lori was more graceful than you. She ignored it as if he were her own brother acting like a frat boy, and merely continued to sift through one of the bags. She smiled upon finding something, tapped Carol on the shoulder, and handed it to her.

It’s been a week now since Shane betrayal to her and Rick. Even you’re still figuring out how to see him. The hopeful part is that he’s been leaving Lori alone. If his sights have indeed turned to Andrea, all the better.

Back to the moment, then you imagined what if he and Andrea got a little too close, did something foolish, and she ended up pregnant, too. Not that Lori’s baby is Shane’s, the baby is Rick’s regardless, but...

The tight feeling returned in your chest.

It was in the midst of this that Dale complimented you. “Kiddo, you’re all gussied up! Any occasion?”

“Mmhm, all dressed up for the ‘show.’” The nausea was back, plus a fun new notion of being observed by unseen persons.

Dale just nodded with raised brows, and you and he shared a look. Instead of tempering your fears, it piqued them. It wasn’t his fault, but Mr. Horvath’s expression started to mirror the way he stared into your eyes after catching Shane lose his temper and leave you with a bruise on your sternum.

The fears within you, the stress, the dread, all started roiling stronger and stronger. You cleared your throat, then coughed, but it didn’t help and you felt restless and, oddly, cornered.

And so, not knowing where to look therefore looking in all directions, you happened to spy Glenn staring at the barn. Again.

The air felt too…thin? And then you noticed Lori examining the torso of one of the shirts in the bag as if testing it for stretchiness or room. You could see the shadows clouding her face right before she abruptly put the shirt down. Then, there was Carol, holding up something that had clearly must have been Beth’s a few years ago, and it looked as if it would fit Sophia perfectly now.

It was just about then that your lungs simply couldn’t keep up.

“Kiddo?” sounded in your ear.

You may have panted something to do with “puffer,” referring to your largely unused inhaler. At any rate, instead of next going to the logical location of the RV to find the med bag, you made for the treeline. You didn’t want anyone near you, didn’t want anybody to see you, didn’t want a fuss, didn’t want to be touched, didn’t want anyone to even think about you, so you had to hide.

Panting, a numbness started to affect your fingers and spread to your torso and toes. You repeatedly coughed in an effort to break up whatever was making it hard to breathe. Once you started coughing, it dominoed. Your stitches were tugging at the forceful coughs, and soon, you were hacking. The hacking led to retching, one, two, three times. Tears started to fall.

“Baby, here,” came from your right and a warm, delicate hand touched the small of your back. Lori. She pressed the inhaler into your hand. “I shook it up, it’s all ready.”

Bending forward slightly to open your airways, you tried to exhale enough so you could take the dose properly as you clasped the trigger.

One puff. Hold breath in.

Your pulse thudded in your ears.

Another puff. Hold breath in.

The relief that usually comes with the medication wasn’t as apparent as it normally would be. It helped somewhat, but. You tried another dose.

More tears of frustration. You panted that you thought your were going to pass out. "F-Feels like m'gonna die," you may have also said. The phantom sensation of your hand being covered in Amy's blood returned. You recall wiping it with the hem of your dress, and Lori taking your hands, preventing you from continuing to do so.

Lori calmly instructed you to, “Try this with me, honey,” and slowly breathed in through her nose. You copied as best you could.

She then slowly breathed out through her mouth. You copied as best you could.

Over and over she coached you.

Things started to ease. Your pulse was still loudly thumping, but two doses of a corticosteroid will do that. In your escape, you’d made for the big rocks where you’d shared (sort of) a cigarette with Daryl. The stones felt nice and cool, and Lori’s gentle rubbing of her hand across your back was comforting.

“Been a while since you’ve needed the inhaler. ‘Decorative,’ you called it once,” she softly chatted. The sensation of not getting enough air wasn’t quite gone just then, but you felt pretty normal again.

“I reckon the cold and the smoke must’ve done me in,” you mumbled. Your throat was mildly sore after all the coughing. “It’s good it was mild.”

“Were you wheezing?”

“No, I…just couldn’t breathe enough or something.” You shrugged. “I don’t always wheeze when I need it.” Your nose was stuffy from crying.

She was thoughtful for a moment, and had begun to lightly scratch your back. “You and Glenn seem off this morning. I’ve seen you two tired before, but today you both seem…there’s something else going on, clearly. Did you two fight?”

“Not exactly.” It’s true. “We’re on the same page.” You weren't prepared to have to go onstage again, but just in case, you tried pulling yourself together.

“Was it about Maggie?”

You laughed genuinely. “Ha, not at all.”

Lori didn’t mirror your laughter or even smile in return. “Honey, I think you had a panic attack.”

At first, you protested. “Oh, it wasn’t that dramatic.”

“It looked different from where I was. But even still, it didn’t have to be or feel ‘dramatic’ to have been one, you know that.” The nonjudgemental straightforwardness in her voice, in her eyes, was enough to convince you that she could see straight into your heart and read what was there. “Y/N, is there something more going on?”

More than anything, at that moment, you didn’t want to lie to her.

But what could you do? Tell the truth, yes, 'the truth will out,' you know that. But you were convinced that telling the whole truth, right then, would be like lighting dynamite.

In your view, you would be exposing everyone to chaos and even violence, and you'd all seen too much of that already. And no, you couldn’t just tell one person because it never just stays with one person. Lori was/is not in any position to have more fear on her plate.

So what did you do?

You crawled back on that stage and you lied — by telling the truth.

“I’m worried he’ll talk.” Vague and a lie of omission, and maybe a little throwing your friend under the bus, but Lord have mercy on you, it was truthful.

Lori squeezed her eyes shut. “Me, too. Oh honey, I’m so scared!” she whispered, covering her mouth.

So scared of Shane, just like you are. “Rick won’t hold any of it against you. We all thought he was dead.”

She shook her head and stared at the ground.“But you saw how Shane behaved, you, you heard the things he said, Y/N,” she nearly hissed. “I don’t know who that man was, but it wasn’t Shane, just like when he had m—” then Lori cut off.

“When he had what?”

She shook her head again. “Seems Dale’s on his way over. He told me about what was going on so I could bring your medicine to you. He hadn't known what 'puffer' meant." And —oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry that you’re worrying yourself like this over my mistake! It's not fair to you.”

“Your kid ain’t a mistake, it’s so good that they’re here,” you replied in total honesty. First time all day.

Maybe she’ll be honest with you and spill whatever Shane did that she’s not being upfront about. Whatever it is could surely have been described in a sentence. “What else did Shane do, Lore?” It can’t have been that bad, or could it?

All she did was shake her head once more. “Like you said, he hasn’t been himself.

‘Hasn’t been himself.’ Fine. You’ve got secrets, too, so there’s no way on earth can you cast stones.

You stepped back onstage for hopefully the final time, and made yourself deliver the next lines. “That’s why we’re goin’ to Fort Benning.” Without you all. “Just him and me. Within two weeks, I hope?” The nausea still hadn’t gone away, and simply saying this brought it back.

Her brows sunk caution. “When was this decision made? I-I thought—”

“—I ain’t told him about it yet.” The bitter smile, you hadn’t been able to stifle. “Shouldn’t be hard to convince him, considering he was fixing to not so long ago.”

Lori’s apologetic tone wasn’t a put-on. “I’m so sorry he didn’t tell you. I had no idea you were left in the dark.”

That’s when some tightness came back to your chest, and your breathing turned faster again. “I know, Lore.”

She noticed. “Honey, hey,” she soothed, “breathe slowly, deeply." Her hand cupped your cheek. "His mistakes, his choices, his reactions are not your responsibility.”

“I know, b-but—”

“—And you don’t have to leave with him if you don't want to.”

“But wh—”

“—No buts.” Lori cupped your cheek, stood, and swiftly made toward Dale.

And here is where you hadn’t known she was going to be quite so straightforward with him.

In fact, you’d hoped she’d join you onstage and lie, too, but she behaved beyond reproach. “It was a panic attack, so please make sure to respect her privacy about it. I’ve got to check on the laundry.”

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

Him

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

Funny thing, he’s wearing the same clothes he had his accident in. He’s in the same stuff leaving that he had been when he got carried in there, except now they’re cleaned and mended.

It’s been good to be back outside, he prefers it. He can’t wrap his head around why some people can keep inside in front of a TV all day. You don’t get to hear or feel the wind indoors, can’t hear the birds and all that.

Now, he couldn’t say for sure, but stepping outside and knowing he didn’t have to go back in must feel at least half as good as getting freed from prison.

If prison was a nice-ass farmhouse without the risk of getting shanked or worse, obviously.

Merle would have some words if he heard Daryl say something like that out loud. Though, Merle was pretty settled when he was in lock-up. Fared fine.

His first view when he steps out into freedom is of Glenn and the teenage boy, kicking the ball around. Those two are straight into it and pay him no mind as he walks around them.

The rest of the group is around the picnic table, looks like they’re sorting laundry (?), therefore ain’t paying him no mind, either.

Phew.

This is good. He was wondering if Y/N was gonna parade him out or make it a big deal, but after hearing her and the other ladies talking in the hallway, she didn’t come back in. Works for him, he doesn’t like a crowd.

…But, like, where is she? He figured she’d be around, is all, but she ain’t by the table.

Ah, yeah, duh — she's probably still doing something with the girl that's about her age and her little sister. Still seems off Y/N and Glenn are only “five or six years younger” than him, but that’s what Y/N has said a few times.

The next thing he sees is Lori, who is swooping down the yard and toward the big rocks where he and T-Dog took a smoke break once. And where Y/N had her first try of a cigarette, too. Lori looks like a woman on a mission, damn. Dale is staring in the direction Lori is walking, those big-ass brows of his slanted downward. Wonder what that's about?

Over the sound of a few leftover end-of-season cicadas, he hears the normal drone of crickets, light talking from the group, the thunk of the ball getting kicked, a very loud crow, some cows mooing, somebody coughing, birds doing their thing, chickens clucking, the wind blowing. Mmm, good stuff. Being inside and hearing it just don’t sound as good as being right out in it.

Then, “Daryl!” comes from his left, and he sees Carol walking to him. She’s a good woman.

And now the memory of her kissing him on the cheek is making his cheeks heat up as quick as her steps toward him.

“I’ll carry those for you,” she quietly insists about his small pile of clothes. He lets her.

She’s been very, um, very attentive. Been having most of her meals with him, babying him as much as he’d allow, and all-in-all has been treating him extra after he had his accident.

There are more coughing sounds that he almost pegs as being Y/N’s, but when he looks back in the direction of the noise, there’s no one, just Lori off on her walk, and it wasn’t her doing the coughing.

“We moved your tent closer to the rest of us, so you would be closer to where we could help you.”

Closer. Great. Daryl wanted nothing less, but a kind gesture is a kind gesture, so he mans up and acts proper, grunting, “Thank you.” It’s not like they went and messed with his stuff, they just moved the tent, and for a real kind reason.

Glenn rears and kicks, sending the ball soaring. Damn, he's good.

“Now, it may smell and look a little different, but all of your things are still there.”

“Huh?” What’d she mean?

“You deserved a nice, clean place to go back to,” Carol explains. “Y?N and I cleaned up your tent.”

…

...

…they what?

He gets the weirdest image of himself as being onstage and forgetting whatever it was he was supposed to say next, leaving him standing there like a mouthbreather in front of the audience. And he kinda wants to cuss the audience out.

His first idea after learning Carol and Y/N was: What the hell, y’all been messing with my stuff? What gives y'all the right?

But, come on, even he had it in him to keep his mouth shut. They’d taken the time and effort to clean up his shit and it was probably as nice as when Carol had worked her magic in the RV. That's damned decent, in fact.

So, Daryl does not act like a jackass, and instead, remembers his lines and thanks Carol again.

“It was no trouble. How about I bring you some more breakfast once you’re settled in?” she quickly offers. See? Very attentive. And he didn’t do shit to have earned it, which made it more uncomfortable.

Aw shit, his cheeks feel all warm again. First around Y/N, now Carol? Maybe there is something to this whole concussion bullshit.

Or, maybe Carol done kissed you on the cheek and said you were a good man and that you did right by her little girl as much as a father should and that’s the best possible thing somebody could be told.

“Do you want some more coffee, too?”

I wanna to be left alone, lady. “Nah, m’great. Thank you.”

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

You

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

“Last night seemed to be an indication summer was officially over. But today,” Dale blows through his lips, “Well, we can already tell it’ll be a warm one.”

“Did we hit the first day of fall, yet? I forgot what date it is today.”

“No, that’s on the 21st. We’ve got some time.”

“Oh, wait!” you squeak (ouch, your throat is still sore from coughing). “Ain’t it the Holy Days for you still?” Rosh Hoshanah was sometime last week, but that one got sort of messed up because of everything that’s been going on.

Oh man, it was the day after Daryl got into his accident, wasn’t it?

Dale’s cordial expression falters. “Yes, it was last week.”

“Yom Kippur is soon then, right?”

“It’s on the 18th this year, yes. Two days away.”

There’s this very insistent raven that’s been cawing away. Or is that a crow? You can’t tell the difference. You can tell that you’ve bummed Dale out, however. “I’ve bummed you out.”

Smiling sadly, he concedes, “Jewish holidays are usually lonely ones in mixed company. And now, especially with it being the holiest time of the year, after everything…” He lifts his shoulders.

“I’ll do the fasting with you so you won’t be alone!” Ow, stop raising your voice so high. “Is it no food or drink at all on that day, or is water okay?”

A happier smile. “No food or drink — barring serious health concerns, of course, in which case, one is required to not fast.”

“No water must suck! When my lot do fasting, water don’t count.”

He nods his head once. “It’s all part of the atonement. It’s considered a blessing for us to fast for it.”

“And the feast after it is fun,” you sigh with a grin. You’ll enlist Carol and Lori to see about making him a yummy fast-breaking meal for the day.

This is what you needed. Dale didn’t press you regarding the panic attack, and has simply been keeping you company by the big rocks. You’ve haven’t had to go back onstage while he’s been sitting with you. You’d probably be content to stay here a good, long time if you didn’t have to use the toilet something major.

“Did you see if there was a pair of suspenders in the bags so you and Mr. Greene can match?”

“Is this your way of saying you’re feeling well enough to head back, or that you need privacy?”

“It’s my way of sayin’ I gotta go potty real bad.” You stand. “Suspenders are pretty cool, you can party like it’s 1899.”

“I actually quite like how suspenders look,” he chuckles, stretching and getting to his feet.

“Mm, they remind me of the Old West, I love ’em.”

Dale and you walk back until reaching the side of the farmhouse, whereupon you excuse yourself to head to the treeline and do your business.

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

Him

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

As soon as the heat starts to sink in, he unbuttons his shirt halfway and kicks his shoes off. Getting the socks off without hurting himself takes some effort, but it’s worth it. His stuff is so squeaky clean and fresh, he wants to avoid sweating the place up too quick.

His old pillowcase is gone, probably scrapped for dishrags seeing as it was pretty worn. In its place is a flower-covered one with soft, thick cotton fabric. There's some phrase about a 'woman's touch' that must apply here. Or, if Merle were here, prime Darylina ammo. Joke's on him, the pillowcase is soft as hell.

And being in there might seem boring, but it's 10 times better than being stuck in a damn bed and listening to music for days on end. Just cloud-watching through his tent window is fun enough for him.

In fact, it’s rad! He’s so psyched to not be in that room anymore!

Cloud watching, playing with his bolts, farting if he's gotta; he's content as can be. Seriously, he’s in such a good mood right now.

But as luck would have it, by the time he’s decided to see how easily a bolt can poke a hole through the mesh window (the answer is very easily, and it’s real satisfying) none other than Andrea herself appears at his tent door. The chick who shot him.

Now, she’s pretty as a picture and then some, but he doesn’t want his belly showing in front of her. If he’d been paying attention and heard her making her way to him, he would’ve buttoned up.

So, he tries out the same tactic as last night, when Carol walked in on him shirtless; maybe by not closing his shirt, she wouldn’t think about it? Or…fuck it, just about everybody has seen some part of him uncovered in the past week. At least there ain’t no scars on this side.

All he’s got to do is make like he’s onstage and that it doesn’t bother him having his literal nipples on display.

“Hey.” Andrea steps into his tent, looking like she is about to eat crow.

She hands him a book. He accepts the maybe peace-offering.

“It’s not that great, but…” she trails off, breathes out, and looks guilty as hell.

Y/N, Carol, and T-Dog all mentioned she’s been kicking her own ass for shooting him. Granted, he’s still a little pissed, and, yeah, real thankful that she’s a shit shot, but — she was trying to protect the group, right? Ain’t even her fault he got stuck in that damn bed. The concussion, split side, and broken ribs did that for him.

He figures he’s gotta make it clear that she’s off the hook without making her feel worse for being let off the hook. And, he thinks he knows just the way to break the tension. It’d got the librarian at his high school to laugh the first time he made the remark, which is probably why he was usually allowed to eat in there during lunch.

Now, he knows reading is still on the no-go list, don’t worry, Y/N, but he casually holds the book up and flips through the pages.

He’s gotta, it’s the setup.

It’s good that Andrea ain’t said nothing yet, because it’s the perfect opportunity for him to pretend to be dead-serious when he complains, “What, no pictures?”

The joke does the trick. Andrea smiles and relaxes. “I’m so sorry. I feel like shit,” she starts to go on, but he puts a stop to it.

Tucking the book aside as he settles down onto the pillow, he cuts in, “You and me both.”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but, if there’s anything I can do, I—”

He cuts in one more time, “—You were trying to protect the group. We’re good.” He means it.

But, ya know, just because things are chill doesn’t mean he can’t bust her balls a little, right? “But hey,” he stops her as she’s leaving. “Shoot me again, you best pray I’m dead.”

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

You

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

“It went great! Better than I ever expected.” Andrea takes a seat beside you on the log. Judging by the look of serenity on her face, it appears that the monkey she’s had on her back for the past week is finally gone.

“Good, m’glad.” You knew it would be fine, but Andrea was so nervous.

“And I have to say, I can see the appeal now.”

“What appeal?”

“Daryl was,” she thinks on the right word and picks: “Charming.”

Ah. You see what she’s trying to do. “Well, go tell him that, then,” you suggest, cool as a cucumber. She and Dale thought you and he had a romantic thing going on. Lol, nah.

“And he was funny!” she goes on.

You sip your tea. “Mm, he can be.”

“Not angry, or, or nasty.” She closes her eyes and breathes out a sigh of relief. “I was so worried about how it was going be.”

You tilt your head in partial agreement. He can be a dick.

Your job for the rest of the day, so Papa Dale done told you, is to be chill (yes, he used the word ‘chill’ and it was adorable). It’s your only responsibility today, seeing as he joined you when you went to check the highway spot for Sophia. She hasn’t found it, it’s untouched. Again.

So now, your job = keep chill.

“Are you helping with target practice later?”

Oh, right, and there’s that. You suppose you could continue helping Beth with drawing her weapon smoothly, keep drilling her never, ever forget to switch the safety back and forth.

But…maybe today, that isn’t your job. Maybe you need a rest from being onstage. “I think I’m gonna sit today out.”

“Is everything okay?”

“I just need a day,” you answer in too high a pitch.

Andy doesn’t inquire further. “How’s the little fuzzball?” she instead asks.

“Still sleeping,” you coo. The sluggish little chick you’d scooped up while quickly sprinkling feed-corn in order to feel useful is your insurance for keeping chill. Can’t not keep chill with a chick asleep in your lap.

“It must feel nice and safe wrapped up like that.”

“Mm.” The chick is nestled in a dishtowel, half its body also covered by your new cardigan.

“Y/N, have you not gone to visit him yet?”

“Not yet. He’d appreciate some time to himself, I reckon, after a week bein’ stuck in there and visitors and checkups at all hours.”

Glenn’s off doing farm chores with Jimmy, so he’s being kept busy and won’t be a concern. As for you, you’ve got your sleepy chick and are content to stay here on the log. You ate lunch, yet another peach (you’re up to six), just finished the leftover raspberries, and are now washing it all down with some fresh mint tea you made in honor of one of your best friends. She’d make her own mint tea and would call it ‘wild mint’ tea because it sounded exotic.

When Dale mentioned today’s date, you realized it was her birthday. She was the most confident girl you’d ever met, and a sweetheart to boot. You really hope she’s alive.

Andrea chuckles to herself. “I gave him that terrible book to keep him occupied.”

Book?? “A book?”

“I brought him The Case of the Missing Man,” she shares with a grin. “He can join the survivor’s club of those who’ve read it — Y/N, is something wrong?”

“Oh, um, nah, it’s all good, uh,” you are fumbling so hard right now. Cool, you’re feeling lightheaded again, cool cool.

It’s all cool. There’s no fire. Stay chill. “I’m gonna pop over and make sure he ain’t cracked into it yet, he’s, it’s, it’s not safe yet. C-Concussion and all.” Listen to you, smooth like butter.

“Oh shit.”

“Andy, don’t sweat. Even if he did start on it, like,” and you pause, because, “I don’t actually know what can go wrong, I didn’t ask Miss Patricia, but I’m sure it ain’t nothing serious!” You cup the (awoken and now loudly peeping) chick between your hands as you book it (pun intended?) to Daryl’s tent.

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

Him

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

For Y/N to glide over wearing a pretty dress, hair all fancy, and holding some little bird was not something he put on his bingo sheet.

“Hiya, Daryl.”

It takes him a second. “Hey.” Never seen her in a dress, is all. And with that little bird, he gets the image in his head of her bursting into song and the farm animals and forest critters doing a musical number with her.

He’ll *ahem* keep that to himself...

“I hope you’re enjoyin’ your new freedom! Mi—”

“—Who’s the little guy?” he had to ask first.

“It's a chick.”

Clearly. “Why?”

“It’s cute.”

She ain’t wrong. “…Can I see?”

“Yeah, it's adorable!”

He begins to get up, but she steps over faster than he can stand. She kneels beside his cot and, delicately, transfers the wrapped chick into his hands. He carefully unwraps the washcloth around it and slips his hand underneath it so sits on his palm with its teeny legs dangling through his fingers. It’s peeping like it’s getting paid for it, holy shit it’s so fucking cute.

“I came here wonderin’ if I might I borrow the, uh, the book Andrea just lent you?”

Ha, called it! The second Y/N found out he had contraband, she came to the rescue.

The chick quiets down, appearing to relax in his hand.

Maybe it’s because he’s in a good mood, but he smiles like a dipshit for a few moments before saying anything. “Nah, I wouldn’t dream of checking it out ’til you said it was fine.”

“Oh ha-ha,” she play-mocks, assuming he wasn’t being serious.

Eh, okay, maybe he was sorta razzing her, too. But he wants to come out on the other side of this whole concussion bullshit on the up, and if reading is still off-limits, it’s still off limits. He’s not gonna full-on disregard somebody who gives a shit.

“How’d ya end up dressed like that?” is his second question while he pets the chick lightly along its head with the feathers on his bolt.

“I wear this, like, all the time.”

“Oh right, yeah, you do,” he sarcastically responds. He tries to reach with his left arm to pick up the book under his cot, but gets a sharp twinge and surrenders that he can’t do that move yet.

Y/N snorts at the sarcasm and tells him straight, “The Greenes had some giveaways, so Beth gave me this outfit. Oh, thank you,” she says when he instead points in the direction of the book. She picks it up and hugs it to herself. “I do believe Carol put a few things aside for you to try on, too.”

“’Kay.”

Y/N looks pretty.

It’s nothing new, obviously her face is nice, but it's the whole blushing things that's annoying. Seems he's started blushing like a belle over all the damn women in camp these days. That really was some smack to the head he got.

He’s imagining himself as being back onstage again, forgetting his lines. He can ad-lib. “How you gonna search in that?”

“Ain’t like my ankles are tied together. Women have always been able to move, play, do manual labor of all sorts in dresses, corsets, stays, stockin’s, you name it,” she serves back with just enough fire that his belly did one of those good flippy-floppys. “That reminds me, Nervous Nelly came back! Did any of us tell you? She’s fine as can be, I fed her half a peach yesterday!”

Some of them baby hairs around her face are coming out of the braids. Her skin's got a sheen to it. And did she put pink stuff on her cheeks or something? Or is that because she was moving around a lot and it’s gotten warm out? Because her lips don’t look like there’s nothing on them but they’re nice and —

“—Dare, you okay?”

“Yeah. Tired.”

“You must be.” Why is she frowning? “You looked like you’d just got hypnotized or — you sure you feel normal?”

“M’fine, I just spaced out.”

She’s gonna have him do a thing, isn’t she? “Follow my finger for a little, please?” Ah-ha, see?

Pointer finger extended, he goes along with it for the 10 or so seconds it takes for the slight crease between her eyebrows to relax.

“Please stick out your tongue for me?” is her next request and, uh, why?

Well, he goes ahead and does it for her anyway. The hook ’em horns he makes at the same time are a sure sign he’s in a good-ass mood.

Y/N lets herself smile, then elaborates: “If it came out tilted, it’s a sign of stroke.”

Stroke? That’s a little much.“C’mon, you’re worried I had a stroke?”

She nods once. Her chest expands big as if she were inhaling really deep. “A smoker, extended bed rest, head trauma,” she quietly counts.

Is he hearing things, or does her breathing sound a little too fast?

“Can you point your toes three times?”

He point his toes three times, and yes, her breathing is a little too fast.

“Now please lift both arms parallel to the bed.”

He lifts both arms. The baby chicken is sleeping now and doesn’t wake with the motion.

“Okay,” Y/N whispers to herself.

“Tell me you’re not stressing out about nothin’.”

She blinks a few times and deadpans, “I would never.”

“Here,” he holds the chick near her face. “Get zen like this pipsqueak.”

“But you ain’t ‘nothing’ and you are at an elevated stroke risk.”

He’s only got the one word for her: “Zen.” The hovering motion he made with the chick was a fun touch, the little thing didn’t even mind.

Her expression suggests she’s trying to not smile, and, in a move he doesn’t anticipate, she leans forward to rub her nose on its beak. Her lips brush against his fingertips when she does and his train of thought derails.

Next thing, her hands are overlapping his as she gently takes the chick back and re-wraps it in the washcloth. “’Lil buddy you’re fine, you’re fine,” she coos. “I’ll grab you the hand sanitizer and leave you to some peace, alright man?” she addresses to Daryl, who's still a little distracted, so a grunt and a chin tilt is how he acknowledges this.

Merle would be laughing his ass off right now, goddamn. ‘Sweet lil virgin Darylina’ sounds about what he’d be cackling about.

Y/N flips open the cap with her thumb and squirts the hand stuff onto his palm. Smells like lemons.

So, he didn’t have that stuff before, meaning she’d likely been the one to put it in there when she’d cleaned his tent with Carol. “Hey, um, thanks for the surprise.” Damn, he’s awkward. Smells way better in here.”

“Carol is so wanting to help you in any way she can. I was in it just to see you end up with that pretty floral pillowcase. I had to stop her from hangin' the matching curtains,” she snickers, then waves him goodbye and, boom, leaves.

So…how long until his heartbeat and head stop racing?

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

You

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

Yet another stage performance today. You had to act like you weren’t distracted by how boyishly charming Daryl looked lounging there with his shirt unbuttoned to his hecking waist, good Moses. Then the way he snuggled the chick, how your legit lips bumped into his fingers?? He noticed your panicking and was all soothing and shit? Dude, and you were trying to sit like a dainty lady the whole time, too, what a poser.

Still, you think you were convincing. Oscar-worthy. Golden Globe. Emmy. Tony. Somebody hook you up with your EGOT.

Oh, and that little jab at his new pillowcase, aw yes, that was top tier friendzoning! Or — oh, it wasn’t interpreted as flirting, right? No way did you intend that! And hold up, no way he'd even care. It's Daryl.

You've earned a B- so far at being chill, you've got to get that grade up.

So, you are going to go pick fruit, alone, and you’re going to stuff your face because the show is over, you’re off stage for the rest of the day!

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

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

-> Masterlist link here <-

and our teeny tiny taglist :D

@spenciepoo338 ; @oceanticspace​​​​ ; @whistlesalot ; @buffy-the-assbutt-slayer ;  @dreamingaboutthewonderland ; @kwazii-kat ; @darylsmavis ; @outlanderhornet22 ; @battinsonrobs ; @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable ; @writingmybeloved ; @boomergirl123 ; @iheartathena0 ; @moonliight-luv ; @suniloli ; @supernaturalgirl02 ; @cnake-garden ; @daryldixmedown ; @sophehe ; @crashlyrose ; @virgo-sunflower920 ; @jennythe ; @theficbaker ; @vampireautism ; @rosetta196 ; @wifeof-barnes ; @thegemthatreads ; @redjaylee ; @thegirlwiththepurpleshelves

(inbox is open if you would like on or off the taglist, slowpokes! Please don’t feel bad or nervous if you don’t want to be tagged anymore, just let me know in the inbox. We’re all friends here and your comfort level matters)  

[my-many-muse-rp-blog]

She went wide eyed. Fuck. She thought. But breathed softly and gave a small smile, “I prefer Eve….” She said coolly. Then turned her back to the counter and slid herself to sit on the counter. She sit crisscrossed fully but she had worn a floor length skirt with her off the shoulder cropped sweater and Chelsea boots. So she sighed slightly and resorted to letting her legs just hang off the table, leaning back on her hands. “…and apologies for the staring. I’m just fascinated by what you are. I mean it helps you’re not half bad to look at.” She teased.

OPEN STARTER - GENEVIEVE

Open to: M/F - Anyone, maybe return of an ex, maybe a fellow book nerd, someone hunting supernaturals?

Setting: Heavy velvet drapes blocking out the sunlight inside the bookstore, lamps on tables lit the aisles brightly enough to see the contents of the shelves. Eve was currently setting some books on the shelf in the fiction section towards the back of the main floor of her book shop.

Genevieve heard the jingle of the bells from the door. Signaling someone entered. Without looking the brunette vampire yelled to the unknown guest, “Hey! WELCOME IN I’LL BE WITH YOU IN JUSY A MOMENT!” Smiling at the thought of a new customer.

[motherfuckingbrad]

thinking about high school troy today.

thinking about a little boy who loved football because it brought him closer to his favorite uncle, and when he found out he was good at it everyone started paying attention to him and loving him. but then as the years went on and he got better and better, football became less about the love of the game and more about the pressure to win. and at some point troy started realizing his “friends” didn’t like him for him, they liked him because he was the star quarterback who would bring the school win after win and he was the most popular person they could surround themselves with. and he started noticing they didn’t care what he said or thought so long as nothing was too out of line, so long as he pushed down his emotions and continued to perform well for them.

thinking about how after his uncle died, troy noticed that football didn’t seem to have a point anymore, that it didn’t make him happy and it hadn’t for a while. but he had a duty, a responsibility to his teammates and his school and his family to keep his mouth shut and keep winning, because if he wasnt good at football what was he good for at all? and the imposter syndrome probably became so strong after that, because troy barely recognized himself anymore, he was just a robot quarterback giving the people what they wanted, and whenever he didn’t he felt isolated and guilty, as if he was carrying the whole school on his shoulders. and each loss became harder and harder to stomach because he was troy, he wasnt supposed to lose, he was supposed to win, that was his one job and he couldn’t even get it right.

and the pressure just became too much, and troy knew he didn’t want to do this in college, didn’t want to force himself into another four years of pleasing people with his athletic skills and feeling like an empty shell. but he also knew he couldn’t tell anyone this because how would they react, when their star player decides to quit right before the big game and let everyone down? when his parents’ son decides he’d rather “feel like himself” than get a scholarship and put himself through college?

so instead of telling, he hurts himself.

he goes to the hospital, and he finally feels the pressure lift a little because there is no more expectation, no more responsibility to give all of himself away. but then he feels the imposter syndrome come rushing back all at once because now without football he still isn’t troy, hes what could’ve been. and now, without the spotlight on him anymore, troy begins to realize his “friends” are barely deserving of that title even with quotes, and even when they do make an effort to hang out with him, he hates himself for even craving their approval and attention, because thats not him. and it doesnt even hit him completely until the day hes sitting in the mall and throwing paper balls at a nerdy stranger, and he finds that their laughs do more than make him feel empty, they make him angry. because how could they think something like that is anything but cruel? and how could they think thats him? troy isn’t cruel, but he realizes in that moment hes on track to become just that if he keeps looking for approval from these “friends”.

and he suddenly realizes football was never even his biggest problem—it was him. hes fake, and suddenly he wants to throw up because hes so unbelievably fake and he cant stand being this fake person for another second, but how can he get out? and the pressure to do better, to be better, is so strong that for a second he cant breathe— but then he sees a flyer for Greendale Community College and a plan forms in his mind, about a no pressure, low stress environment. about somewhere he could start over, where no one will even know who he was.

and this plan seems great, until his first day of spanish 101 when he sees annie edison sitting front row and realizes he’ll never really be able to get away from who he was. and it makes him recede back into that protective personality, the over-masculine asshole he doesnt want to be, until someone who looks a lot like that nerd from the mall asks him to be in a study group. and even though its hard, and it takes a long time, troy finds himself happier and happier with every second that passes at Greendale; and no matter what his parents or old classmates or air-conditioning-repair-school-dean says, he’s finally found somewhere he belongs.

[louderfade]

exene talking about the state of the world. the good stuff starts at eight minutes. or you can just read the transcript complete with the usual errors that accompany robot transcribed speech (the irony of which is not lost on me). maybe it's not about transhumanism and living forever (or maybe it is who knows), but there's definitely an agenda of surveillance and control at work which is designed to keep the powerful in power. cash rules everything around me and you will own nothing etc. the future is worse.

[chilledstrawberrysoda]

Do you ever just get really hung up on small injustices in your past that aren't THAT big of a deal but we're so pivotal to who you are as a person and felt like the end of the world at the time and everything turned out okay but you still get caught up on the what if of it all occasionally and mourn the person you may have been?

[canihaveacalmtime]

Imagine yourself as the neglected youngest prince/princess of a powerful empire, after being deemed for harming the king's favorite child, you were sent to the underground dungeon to have you learn your lesson but that lesson which suppose to only long for 2 weeks turned into 2 years of torture for you.

So when the truth was revealed that it was a duke's family that was behind the attack of the king's favorite child, they remembered about you and realized that it's been two years since they last seen you, it just hits them hard the moment they knew that you were still in the dungeons.

When they arrived at your cell, they were devastated to see how brutally beaten up you are and you look like you haven't had any food for weeks, even months. Quickly, the king order that you be treated immediately and called the royal doctor.

As you lay limp on the bed in your new bedroom, the doctor said that your condition now is even worse than any othet patient the doctor has ever treated, worse than the knights who came back from war even and you are 10, only 10 years old. Your family can only pray for your recovery now while drowning themselves in guilt and regret.

One early morning, when your sister, the king's favorite child yeah, came to check on you and she almost cried when she saw you sitting on the bed, looking outside the window. You're awake and moving, so she immediately go and tell the others.

After that was the beginning days of all the family members to try and attempt to get your attention and fight each other over for who will be the one to pamper and take care of you. You on the other hand just doesn't budge from what they've been doing, it's like you are just a living body without a living soul.

Everyday, you have to hear them apologize to you, tell you sweet things and comfort you, try their best to lessen the wounds on your body and you're becoming sick of those things. You only want to know why they are wasting their time on you while they can just left you back in the maid headquarters where your old room is then left to rot in there, won't it be better?

So as a protest, you did the unthinkable, you tried to unalive yourself by jumping off of the balcony and let's just say they were not happy about that one bit.

At first, you just did it once so they make sure the maids will always have their eyes on you to prevent you from doing such things again until your second attempt comes with you tried to stab yourself with a piece of glass then another, then another and another. They were getting really tired of what you were doing and finally settled down to an agreement.

Make sure to don't be too panic when you wake up the next day to see your hands cuffed and the chain on your leg connect to the bed frame. Even when you tried to refuse to eat, they will just force feed you without making you hurt. Eventually, you snapped and broke down one day just screaming and crying at them, saying that why don't they just kill you already, you are so tired of everything and the pain never fade.

Your mother holds and kiss your face, making you not notice the syringe has been plugged into your neck as you slowly losing consciousness, the only thing you hear before blacking out was-

"You shall never leave our side, sweetheart. Even if the lengths we are going to keep you here is overdose, we just have no option left if you don't cooperate. Sleep tight, we love you."

[porcalinecunt]

Question, what if there was Von & Wrio riding fem reader? Sandwichinh her as they use both her holes roughly?👀

𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐅𝐅!

🪽 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ if you were squished n stuffed by giant canine men ~ <3

·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐕𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐘𝐂𝐀𝐎𝐍 & 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

cw — mean dom! wriothesley. soft dom! von lycaon. double penetration. size kink. breeding. anal sex. mentions of knot. implied polyamory(?)

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : this was messily written since my last draft wasn’t saved ;-; so apologies if this ended up half baked nonie [frustrated noises]

you couldn’t get a breath in, not with two horny mutts pumping themselves in and out of your poor holes.

it was supposed to be plain, simple sex just to relieve von lycaon’s stresses. after all, being the strong-head of victoria’s housekeeping always takes a toll on him. whether taking on ethereals or watching over the young, impressionable maids. settling him down and doing all the work in pleasing him.

of course, your other lover couldn’t help himself. rudely interrupting the both of you while lycaon was balls deep inside you, undressing with a raging hard on. “what? can’t let you two have all the fun..” he chuckled.

now here you are, pressed between the two canines as they ravaged your pussy and ass at an animalistic pace.

“ah! s-slow down! plea..ahh..!”

you mewled, pleading falling on deaf ears as wriothesley gripped the back of your knees with lycaon squeezing the life out of your marked up thighs. your poor cunt, exposed and stuffed full by the duke’s ridiculous girth while the furry thiren anal fucked you.

“don’t tap out now, princess. not when you’ve been so so good to us..”

wriothesley groaned with a lustful grin, a fang could be seen peering through his lips. his pace was unforgiving, stretching your pussy out to it’s limit. you weakly lift your head up, watching the lewd scene play out in front of you. a creamy white ring already sat at the base, indicating your impending orgasm.

a large, furry paw grabbed the back of your head and forced it to face the man below you. the one stuffing your pretty little ass full of wolf cock and knot. “enjoying yourself? master y/n..?”

you nodded in response, lycaon leaning forward to capture your lips—or rather mouth—into a disgustingly passionate kiss. your eyes white from how far they rolled to the back of their heads as the thiren stuffed your mouth with his tongue.

“‘course she enjoys it..a good little lady like her would adore a dickin’ from us.” the duke chuckled, caging you between his scarred arms.

the sound of skin slapping against skin and your lover’s groans overwhelmed your head. stars filled your vision as an incoming orgasm took feeling from your legs. lycaon kept bullying his length into your tight ass, his knot pressing and growing against your sweetly sensative spot while he swallowed your mewls and begs to be bred full. your little brain was nothing but mush, only with the desire for your boys to stuff you full of cum until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“c-cumm..gonna cum!”

you sobbed, digging your nails into wriothesley’s biceps which forced a hiss through his sharp teeth. the more their cocks twitches, the harder you clenched around them, almost milking the two men till they’re fucking dry.

“woah woah..don’t clench like that baby or we’ll—fuck!” wriothesley abruptly groaned in your ear as ropes of white shot into your cunt, the sudden rush of warmth pushed out sounds that could’ve been straight out of porn. only more so when lycaon felt his own orgasm wash over him.

one final, and harsher, thrust snapped his cock deep in your ass. the sensation doubled the pleasure you were already drunk off of, it’s a shock you didn’t pass out.

“a-apologies master..i should’ve said something before—“

you pressed an intimate kiss onto the wolf’s nose, instantly shutting up whatever formalities he had. “no need, darling..” you spoke in a weak tone. the thiren wrapped his large, furry arms around your waist while the duke buried his face in your bruised up neck.

yet, the fun had only begun, as they haven’t even pulled out of your leaking holes. can’t waste a drop now, can you?

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[princesschimchim1325]

Sing for us, darling~

Dan Feng and Yingxing want to hear the noises their wife makes as they pleasure her, to let it be known to the whole Xianzhou Luofu that she belongs to them.

(Or you get sandwiched between your horny husbands)

Warnings: 3rd POV, fem & afab reader, reader is an adult, reader got bomb pussy game, overstimulation, groping, double penetration in the same hole, creampie, vaginal fingering, Dan Feng has two cocks and a voyeur kink, Yingxing is 41 (reader wants to fuck those old men so bad), Dan Feng is a menace, Yingxing is a charming old man, they are both possessive and horny as hell, a surprise at the end. (Fūrén - wife, bǎobèi - treasure)

Word count : 1,904 words

This can be read in the same universe as my dragoness reader idea but can be read as a standalone.

This could also be read in the same universe as my mutual's @philistiniphagottini's "god-ish" smut fic.

Likes, Comments & Reblogs are welcome!

DO NOT REPOST, OR FEED TO AI 🚫🚫🚫

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

Under the pale moon, the wind made the trees rustle and flowers sway. The cold breeze would make any passerby shiver, enough to make their teeth chatter.  Everyone had worn thicker coats and lit up their fireplaces to stay warm.

Everyone except for the lovers in the High Elder's residence. Said High Elder was lounging on an armchair, his face propped up by his fist and an ankle atop his knee, an air of haughtiness befitting of man his caliber and position. Dan Feng was facing the master’s bed, calculating ocean green eyes swept over the attractive forms of his spouses.

His husband, Yingxing, was sitting on the edge of the large bed, completely bare. His long silver hair lay loose and flowing behind his muscled back. Sitting on his lap, was a jewel far more precious than any stone found in the Luofu, their beloved wife. 

And what a sight she was.

Her back was pressed against Yingxing’s broad chest, her front facing Dan Feng. Her lovely face was scrunched in frustration, sighing as Yingxing kissed and lavished her shoulders with love bites and hickeys, his large and calloused hands groped her breasts. And what was one of the most erotic sights he has ever seen in his centuries of living, her greedy pussy swallowing Yingxing’s length and if he looked hard enough, he could see a bulge on her stomach as Yingxing stuffed her full. 

Their shared bedchamber was filled with the loud wet sounds of Yingxing open mouthed kisses and their wife’s lovely moans, or as he and Yingxing liked to call them, song. His own hard cocks were pressing painfully against his trousers but he paid it no mind. The erotic sight in front of him was far more important. 

“Enjoying the show, A-Feng?” His Yingxing inquired, a smirk on his handsome face. His large hands slid from her breasts, trailing down until they slipped under her thighs, only to suddenly spread them wider, jostling the woman on his lap and causing her to throw her head back and sobbed. 

“Indeed. Dare I say, your little ‘show’ is the most enjoyable production I ever had the pleasure of witnessing.” 

He rose from his seat as he answered, taking off his white blazer as he did. Perhaps their little game went on long enough, they started at nightfall and now the moon was already high in the sky. Their poor wife must be so pent up, being cockwarmed and teased by Yingxing, but being told she wasn’t allowed to cum.

As he neared his two beloveds, their wife gazed at him with glassy eyes, cheeks wet from tears of frustration. She shakily reached out to him with her left hand and he caught her midway, holding her smaller hand and leaning down to place a kiss on her palm. 

“A-Feng…A-Xing has been so mean to me..” she whined as Dan Feng kissed her neck, trailing up to her ear, just below her earlobe. 

“Hmm, is that so?” He hummed, smirking as she yelped when he bit down on a particularly sensitive patch of skin and licked it as a form of apology.

“Oh, fūrén, this was our dearest High Elder’s idea. I am merely doing my part in his script~” Yingxing laughed, placing an unapologetic kiss on her hair. 

The High Elder pulled away to take his long gloves and the rest of his imperial garbs off, piece by piece revealing a lean yet powerful build, with broad shoulders, narrow waist and hips. 

“...You scoundrels. How could you be so mean to your wife?” she complained, writhing on top of the Furnace master’s lap, unconsciously tightening in the process and causing the man to groan. 

“Desperate now, are we?” Yingxing hissed, hands gripping her thighs in a bruising hold to stop her from squirming. 

Dan Feng, finally bare, had taken his place between his wife’s spread legs and replaced Yingxing’s hands gripping her thighs with his own. His cocks standing proudly against his toned stomach. 

Yingxing’s left hand returned to groping her breast and tweaking her hardened nipple with his fingers, while his right hand trailed up to her smooth neck, caressing it before gently gripping her throat. 

Dan Feng rubbed both of his cocks against her puffy clit, using her and Yingxing’s combined wetness as lube before taking one of his hardness and lining it up her hole that was still stretched around Yingxing’s cock. 

Slowly, he filled her up, one cock rubbing against Yingxing’s and her spongy walls, his other cock was sliding between her puffy folds and clit. Dan Feng pulled his husband into a searing kiss over their wife’s shoulder, making a show of their tongues dancing. He could feel her tighten up at the sight of their display. 

Inch by inch, he slid into her wet heat, until he pressed up against her cervix alongside Yingxing. He pulled away from his husband only to kiss his wife next, equally as passionate. 

Their beloved wife was panting when he pulled away, a thin strand of saliva connecting their lips before it snapped. 

A few moments of silence before sounds of debauchery filled their shared bedroom. Each sensual roll of their hips had their darling wife keening, throwing her head back and bumping against Yingxing’s collarbone, tears of pleasure streaming down her lovely face. 

“Mmmph! A-Xing, ah! A-Feng! Too deep! Please, too deep!” She sobbed. How cute, yet she clung to them like they’re her lifelines. 

Their hips moved in sync, when one thrusts in, one pulls out and vice versa, making sure their wife is in the precipice of pleasure and overstimulation. Their cocks were alternating in slamming against her cervix, causing her to moan even louder. 

In her desperation to keep herself grounded, her hands found themselves digging into different parts of her husbands. One hand reached behind her to grasp and pull at Yingxing’s long silver locks, making him groan. The other reached behind Dan Feng to rake her sharp nails down his back, leaving thin scratches that are deep enough to bleed. Dan Feng threw his head back, moaning at the pleasure before hissing from the stinging pain.

Yingxing, never one to let his spouses one up him, let the hand groping her breast trail down her soft stomach before suddenly pressing down on the bulge caused by their cocks. 

“Ah! Yingxing, please!” How adorable, she was starting to slur her words a bit. 

Yingxing couldn’t help but chuckle, “Close, love?” 

Their poor darling, already so close while being lovingly fucked, their cocks overcrowding her poor cunt while their hands groped her breasts, the pudge of her hips, or pressing down on the bulge of her stomach in a dazed fascination of how well she’s taking both of their cocks. 

Their normally stoic and quiet wife reduced to an incoherent mess, moaning only their names. 

Both husbands groaned at the same time when they felt her tighten, impossibly tight. Dan Feng reached down to draw circles on her engorged clit, making her cry out even louder to the point he might get complaints in the morning even though his estate is built farther away from other citizens. 

“Mmph! Ah! A-Feng, A-Xing! Please, I’m going to–ah!” Before their darling wife could even finish her sentence, she came, or rather, she squirted right at Dan Feng’s abdomen. 

Her sudden orgasm triggered Yingxing’s own orgasm and she could feel herself being filled to the brim with the copious amount of his warm and thick cum. Dan Feng followed not too long after him. 

She hiccuped in pleasure as she’s filled again, this time by Dan Feng’s cum, warm and thick, and just as abundant as Yingxing’s. 

Once the cloud of pleasure had dissipated, she watched in mortification how her cum that splashed her husband, dripped down the planes of muscles his blessed body has. 

He didn’t even look mad, if anything, he looked downright pleased by the turn of events with his telling smile and the mirth present in his eyes. Behind her, she could feel the rumble of Yingxing’s barking laugh. 

“Oh, you did so well, darling. Look, you even made his other cock cum.” Yingxing cooed, nuzzling into her hair. 

She looked down and saw that Yingxing was right, Dan Feng’s neglected cock had cum as well, his spent dripping from her chest to her stomach. 

“Hmm, you took both of us well. How are you feeling, băobèi? Are you hurt?” Dan Feng kissed her forehead while checking her for any signs of harm. She could only shake her head in fondness. 

Dan Feng was the first to pull out, Yingxing following soon after him. She whimpered at the feeling of their cocks rubbing against her sensitive walls. 

Dan Feng watched in fascination how his and Yingxing’s combined cum dripped from their wife’s slightly gaping pussy, staining the bed and dripping onto the floor. 

Before anymore could drip out from her lewd hole, Dan Feng scooped the excess cum and fingered it back inside her, causing her to jolt and gasp

“Let’s not waste, shall we? It would be such a shame, no, fūrén?” He looked at her with such an infuriating look on his handsome face while his fingers played with his and Yingxing’s mixed cum inside her sore cunt. 

Yingxing’s large hands found their way to her breasts again, playing and groping her soft tits. All he gave her was a not-so apologetic kiss on the top of her hair.

“Ah! You-you scoundrels! Give this body of mine a break, won’t you?” their wife scowled but it broke into a pleasured moan when Dan Feng once again bit the sensitive part of her neck.

“Well, we did say we want you to sing, didn’t we, bǎobèi?”

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Dan Heng shot out of his mattress, panting. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he tried to regulate his breathing, his heart beating so hard, it almost felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. 

He pressed his hand against his chest, his heart finally calming down. As he calmed down, he realized he had another problem, the hard on between his legs. Dan Heng groaned.

‘What the hell was that dream? No, that was too vivid to be something my mind conjured up. Was it a memory? If so, why the hell did I have a wet dream of Dan Feng and his spouses?’

He looked beside him, the woman sleeping next to him thankfully lay unaware of his dilemma. Her appearance had a striking resemblance to the woman in his dreams. He shook his head

He reached down to brush away the hair against her face, fingers slightly caressing her feathers. 

Well, whatever it was, he’ll deal with it tomorrow. 

••••••••••

Ren’s eyes opened, trying to adjust in the darkness of his room. He sat up before placing a hand on his face.

There was a moment of silence before the sounds of his hysterical laughter filled the room. 

“Of all the times, the memories of Yingxing decide to resurface now?” 

Ren laid in his bed again, facing the ceiling while his large and scarred hand dragged against his face, a smirk on his face. 

“Hah, I guess there is no escape for either of you. My bǎobèi, it won't be long until we're reunited...... And there is no place for you to hide, Yǐnyuè-jūn.”

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□

[igotanidea]

Stuck: Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader

A/N: seriously, I almost titled this chapter "idiot" , XD (and that's also the spoiler alert XD)

part 1 to too much

part 2 : not enough

part 3 : almost there

***

One year ago

„When will you get those irrational thoughts out of your head Y/N?”

“What irrational thoughts?”

“About marriage out of love. No such thing exist in the world, my dear and if you do not start living in reality you shall become a spinster!”

“Mother!” Y/N’s eyes grew wide at the harsh and unjust words. She was still so young and to almost be called an old maid—

“Do not raise your voice young lady. You shall marry this season otherwise you would be putting our noble house in a very compromising position.”

“But-“

“Ah! Do not object your mother Y/N. You’ll do as I say. I know what’s best for you and you shall follow the lead. And that is precisely why you’ll accept when Lord Bridgerton proposes to you.”

“Lord Bridgerton!? Which one!?”

“The viscount, dear.” Her mother fluttered her fan imperiously. “Lord Anthony Bridgerton.”

“There is no possibility that I-“

“Hush!”

“Mother I –“

“You’ll say yes.” The tone of voice became much more commanding, leaving no space for discussion. It was like Y/N’s fate has already been decided.

“And why shall I? Because the viscount has decided he has enough pleasantries exchanged with modistes and actresses and other ladies free of the burden of the title. Because mighty Lord Bridgerton decided it is time to tie bounds with a young noble lady, who will be naïve and foolish enough to look at his antics without as much as a blink of an eye. Who will – dear lord – bear him an heir to the title and be the perfect little wife he would order around.”

“Y/N Y/L/N!” her mother raised from the chaise longue with cheeks flushed due to her daughter impertinence. “You will accept the proposal!”

“I will not!”

“Your father has already made the appropriate commitments!”

“Commitments!?”

“You shall be courted like a young lady should and get married in the fall.”

“Mother!”

“It has been decided. Now, you go and make yourself presentable. Lord Bridgerton has announced his visit in the afternoon.”

***

The visit was a disaster, to use the light words.

It was clear as day that neither Anthony nor Y/N were fully content with this arrangement and subconsciously tried to discourage the other. That way, when one of them would actually break it off, said one would be to blame for the disgrace, that would undeniably fall on both families.

However-

Despite some many character discrepancies they were both pertinacious and individualistic, ready to go the greatest length to have one’s own way. Neither of them was even thinking of surrendering easily.

Therefore, during his first appointment as a suitor Anthony was met with cold stares, minimum exchange of words and very noticeable distance on his future bride’s part.

Immediately matching the atmosphere and repaying in kind, only doubled in intensity.

Getting burned with the tea in response.

Causing a lot of havoc, many fake words of apologies and even more words of assurance that is must have been an unfortunate accident and he holds no grudge.

For obvious reason the time spend in L/N;s household was cut extremely short and Y/N was send to bed without supper to think about her erratic behavior.

Next few visits were no better.

Especially not the one when Anthony and Y/N were to reveal to a wide audience the nature of their acquaintance by strolling on the promenade, beaming with happiness due to their soon-to-be marriage.

“Dear lord, you are to be enthusiastic.” Anthony hissed in Y/N’s ear grabbing her arm with a bit more force than needed “Smile.”

She put on a fake grin when they were passing by some familiar face, but as soon as the woman was gone she turned to Anthony throwing daggers at him.

“Giving me orders already, Lord Bridgerton?”

“Hopefully you can be tempered if we start getting you used to it this early.”

“Oh! Perhaps it should be you to change the perspective my lord. See the real face of a lady you decided to meet at the altar?”

“And here I though your wonderful mother raised you better.”

“Do not dare speak of my mother the ill way!” she almost yelled, almost yanking her hand free from his grip, stopping the walk and challenging him to do something reckless.

“Forgive me.” He became serious in an instant and the words of apologies actually seemed honest. “You are right, I overstepped.”

“Thank you.” She responded with a deep sigh. God knows how much it took for her to stay calm. Regardless of the on-going conflict and differences in views between Y/N and her mother, the young woman would never let anyone offend her family. Not even Lord Bridgerton. And he should know that straight away.

“Perhaps we have started off the wrong foot, Lady Y/L/N.”

“I believe so. Seemingly we have a way to bring out the worst in each other, Lord Bridgerton.”

“Is that a way to tell me I have already seen you on your lowest behavior?”

“Compliments, Lord Bridgerton, you have endured my greatest efforts to cause you dispiritedness.” Despite herself she let out a chuckle.

“I am known for my endurance even in the least favorable circumstances.”

“I shall keep on my efforts, nonetheless.”

“I am deeply convinced that this will be the case”

***

Dearest gentle reader,

It has come to this writer’s attention that the affection between Viscount Bridgerton and young lady Y/L/N is in full bloom.

Despite the initial misunderstandings and noble behavior, that hasn't deceived any member of the ton, even if have been well played, recent news and observation has shown that maybe there's less pretending and more truth to it. 

Much to the ton’s discombobulation, young pair has been seen laughing together while the viscount resorted to courting in the way that resemble his late father and Lady Violet Bridgerton manner.

This writer daresay that no elite member would have ever do as much as dream of Lord Anthony Bridgerton picking meadow flowers for his chosen one while walking in the fields, away from prying eyes. Neither anyone would ever think about the forever dreamer lady Y/l/n actually so close to fulfilling her dream of marrying out of love. Irrational thoughts, as someone may put.

It is yet to be decided whether the on-going courtship between lord Bridgerton and lady Y/L/N will be a source of impending scandal in the society or whether those two will actually succeed in keeping this lovable atmosphere for following years.

After all – real love is not easily found and even less easily kept once the obstacles arise.

***

Now.

“You are to be enthusiastic.” Anthony murmured taking Y/N;s arm and bowing to the passing nobles “Smile.”

Those words brought back some memories and she couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony of the history that was in fact repeating itself.

“What is so funny?”

“Your memory does seem so be failing my lord. Won’t you remember the last situation when you told me to express my happiness and contentment to the ton?”

“I—” Anthony cut off, letting out a deep, frustrated sigh.

“Seem like you do after all.”

“Y/N…”

“Been a while since I had to pretend I was content though, given the fact that I truly was, of late.” The hint of sadness and melancholy was not to miss and did not make it easier for Anthony to pursue on the apologies he was tirelessly pursuing.

“Y/N…”

“Good job on choosing the right name since the person, whose hand you are now holding for display seem to be too much for you, my lord. To say the full truth I am fairly surprised you chased me here instead of focusing on spending time with one of your-“

“Don’t you finish that sentence.”

“Oh, I shall not, god forbid. I shall keep the pretenses as any lady married into a good family will.” She send the brightest smile to some kids that were running around, preached by their parents, holding her walls up.

At this point, mockery and distancing herself from the entire unfortunate events, if not fight, was the only way to prevent the emotional and mental breakdown and falling into tears. She was hurt. She was deeply hurt on a level she never thought existed. Anthony’s behavior hit precisely in all the sensitive spots, leaving her overthinking and wailing inside. Reminding her of all the years in her family’s household, being forced to act according to the standards, which she constantly broke, defying all the rules of ossified society and paying a heavy price for being herself despite the odds.

Being called too much, constantly.

Until she met Eloise, which was freeing. Y/N could finally feel like herself, spending a lot of time with Bridgertons.

And then meeting Anthony.

And actually creating a happy story with him, believing she would once and for all be free of the typecasting and tag putting.

But he started behaving in the same way to which she was exposed her entire life.

Too much.

Not enough.

And it made her angry.

“Please do forgive me for not easily being shaped in the wife you want me to be.”

“Shaped? I never wanted you any different!”

“Is that so?” she raised an eyebrow teasingly and it got her furious glance of her husband’s and the tightening bruising grip on her wrist. “you’re hurting me. Again.” The emphasis put on the last word actually made Anthony realize that he was not made of stone, but the words he wished to say were not coming easily.

“Y/N…” he clenched his jaw. She was mocking and challenging him even now, when he was trying to admit he was wrong and trying to apologize for the wrongdoings.

“Yes, my lord?” she took a step back, smiling in that light way that made him even more furious.

 “I believe you wanted to spend time on an intellectual conversation with my sister. Forgive me-“ he bowed in a distant manner reserved for strangers rather than spouses “-for being as impertinent to interrupt ladies’ time. I shall withdraw and leave you to continue on your – surely important- exchange”

And with those words, much to the shock of not only Y/N, but also Benedict and Eloise, who were still following them, Anthony bowed again and started walking away, raising clouds of dust due to the speed with which he rushed off from the place where he left his beloved wife.

Feeling the weight of failure and heartbreak on his shoulders, without a single way to make up for his mistake and keeping the face of a viscount at the same time.

Convinced that she hated him and there was no way to regain her favor and affection.

next part (finale!) : Just right

@pietrawebster @chrissisheadisinclouds @fuzzym4m4 @gloomysel @urfavnoirette @dd122004dd @milkbummm @bevstofu @taniasethi @syraxnyra @christinabae @pandoraneverland @bevstofu @topguncultleader @jana-jaeynneee @myaa21212121 @ziarah @cat-lockwood @leaf-rose-thorn @elissanatok @lily3450 @nervousmumbling @budugu @frickin-bats @sillyfreakfanparty @amberpanda99 @nycthophiliaa @myaa21212121 @bananaadeleigate @everybodystaycalm @fmhcatt @sankareatheundead @cat-lockwood @1potato2rulethemall

[writing-fanics]

lady with the butterfly necklace in the portrait [part one]

[summary: angel asks about the portrait of a woman in the hallway]

[warning: angst: mentions of death]

Lucifer at the portrait in the lobby of the hotel. Staring longingly at the woman in the portrait, her [hair length] hair and [e/c] eyes. She was absolutely gorgeous he felt a twinge of pain, as he reached out towards the portrait. How his heart ached, as he placed his hand on the portrait.

Her smile could light up any room, and make anyone smile. She was beautiful, the butterfly necklace wrapped around her neck. Her smile her portrait, portrayed her with grace and poise.

Angel looked towards Lucifer, as he stared at the portrait “You’ve been gawking at the portrait for minutes?” He said, walking up behind him causing the king of Hell to glance over at him.

“Who’s that?” asked Angel, curiously as he liked this popsicle. Lucifer smiled softly reminiscing on the good times he spent with her, “She was my wife,” said Lucifer, his smile faltering the pain in his chest unbearable.

Angel looked at the portrait, of the lady. A young Charlie sat on her lap, smiling. A butterfly hair clip in her hair. Lucifer stood beside his wife and daughter, smiling.

Angel looked at him and folded his arms across his chest, “Where is she now?” He asked, blatantly.

Lucifer eyes lowered to the ground, fixated. He looked slowly back up at the portrait, he missed her so much that it hurt. He should’ve stopped her, he should’ve protected her. He should’ve been a better husband.

Angel figured it out by the silence, and had an inkling that she was no longer with us. Yet, his blatant curiosity and slight being noisy got the better of him. Force of habit.

“She was amazing, loving, kind, i see as much as her in Charlie as much as I see myself.” He said, and Charlie looked at him sadly. She vaguely remembered that how her father, completely broke down.

“S-She..” He shuddered, looking down using his cane to support himself. He still remembered that day as if it were yesterday. The look of horror and sadness plastered on his face. When he opened the door, and a sinner demon was holding the lifeless body of their queen.

His wife

His partner

He stared at the floor for a moment, as tears threatened to brim his eyes. “There was a knock at the door,”He said, looking back up at the others.

Her wings torn from her body and stained with, gold ichor. She looked peaceful and had a faint smile, on her lips. Her body covered in scratches and cut. A slash around her neck, stared blankly and took her body into his arms.

His eyes turned into slits and the sinner demon bowed, and apologized for his loss. “S-She told me to tell you to take care of Charlie for me, and that she loves you two more than anything.” The demon said, sadly and Lucifer just stood there emotionless.

He didn’t notice Charlie rubbing her eyes, as she walked up behind him. Wondering what her father was doing at the front door, until she noticed. “Mama?” said Charlie, curiously. Lucifer world seemed to spin, how much more can Heaven take from him. His wife and unborn child was gone.

“She died protecting what few sinners she could,” He said, clearing his throat. “She was pregnant,” He shuddered, placing his hand over his mouth and dragging it downward. Angel looked at him sadly, almost regretting having asked the question entirely.

Angel seethed his teeth, feeling bad. “I didn’t mean to-” said Angel, but was interrupted by Lucifer.

Lucifer shook his head, “No, it’s okay, it happened awhile ago.” He said, even though it was true it happened ninety years ago. The memory was still fresh and it felt like it happened yesterday.

There were nights he couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning. Still missing the warmth of his beloved of his partner, her laughter that used to wake him up every morning as Charlie leaped into their bed. Her absolute beautiful singing voice, and how the rare butterflies of hell would flock to her. As if she was their queen.

“S-She sounds amazing,” said Angel, as he looked at the portrait, and a smile grew across Lucifer’s lips. “Yeah, she was.” said Lucifer, as he gripped the ring around his neck being held by a chain.

A duck swam towards the edge of the pond in Heaven, there sat a woman humming to herself. A scar around her neck as she began to feed the ducks. She giggled, as one flapped its wings at the sight of the bread. She lifted her head revealing her [e/c] eyes.

[rafesbabygirlx]

A Lot of Time has Passed | Part 2

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Season 4 Rafe x Maybank reader

Summary: Beginning at the time jump, the Pogues seemingly succeeded at something, Rafe is struggling with making amends and being a better person. JJs sister left the island after returning from South America. Returning after 18 months with a secret.

A/N: I can never tell time length in this show. Not sure how many days truly passed for the first part of this season so this will be my own timeline.

Im on a roll I wasn’t expecting P2 to come out the same day. The story will get much better- just trying to get the set up for the story done. :)

Not proofread

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: nothing really just some story building. Maybe a slightly mean Rafe for like 2 seconds though. :)

A few days had passed and you and Kie decide to go shopping. You hadn’t spoken to Rafe since the day of the race. As you and Kie exited a store, engrossed in conversation, you collided with a couple of people. You immediately apologized and looked up, only to find Rafe and Sofia standing before you, her arm hooked around his once again.

“Hey! You look amazing! How have you been?” Sofia exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she recognized you. Rafe stood beside her with a smug smirk, saying nothing.

“Great! You look amazing too,” you replied, forcing a cheerful smile. The tension in the air was palpable, especially knowing that Sofia likely knew about your history with Rafe, and you both were acutely aware of what had happened just days before, right under her nose.

Kie stood behind you, visibly disgusted by Rafe. Hoping he wouldn’t notice the shopping bag in your hand, you discreetly slid it behind you and nudged Kie toward the Twinkie.

Before you could catch your breath, Sofia chimed in again, “So, whose baby are you shopping for?” Panic surged through you for a brief moment, but you quickly replied, “My cousin. I reconnected with my mom, and my cousin’s daughter’s birthday is coming up. We’ve gotten really close, and I wanted to get her something special.” You surprised yourself with how smoothly that lie rolled off your tongue.

“Is that who the ‘V’ on your necklace—” Rafe’s eyebrow arched at your answer, but he cut Sofia off. “You’re talking to your mom again? Since when? You never told me.”

“I don’t think I need to tell you that,” you shot back defensively.

“Well, where does she live? Where have you been?” Rafe pressed, and frustration bubbled inside you. “Stop.” You turn back to Sofia. “I really need to go. It was good to see you, Sofia.” You lightly touched her arm, shot Rafe a warning look, and hurried back to Kie.

“He’s such an asshole! How could he do that to you and then act so smug?” Kie exclaimed, her anger evident.

“I don’t know, Kie. It’s fine. Let’s just go.”

The next day, you were helping Sarah at the shop, stocking shelves and sharing laughter over silly jokes. Just as you were in the middle of a story, Rafe unexpectedly burst through the front door, startling you. He grabbed your arm, pulling you away from Sarah, who protested loudly, “What the hell, Rafe? Get off of her!”

“Sarah, you’re really not in a position to tell me what to do since this is all your fault,” Rafe shot back, his tone icy. You looked at him, confusion washing over you.

“You might want to watch who’s around when you’re parading around talking about how cute your niece is,” he added, his gaze piercing.

You turned back to Sarah, shock and dread settling in. Your blood ran cold, and a wave of numbness enveloped you. “Just go outside, Rafe. I’ll be right out,” you said quietly, trying to regain your composure.

You needed a moment to process everything happening around you. Your heart raced as you spoke softly to Sarah, “I am so, so sorry. It must’ve been when I was talking to Cleo, and you sent me that video of her with your mom. I didn’t think anyone close to Rafe was around. I didn’t realize; I'm really sorry.” You could see the guilt etched on her face, knowing she never intended any harm.

“It’s okay. It was bound to happen, I guess,” you replied, pulling her into a comforting hug. You took a deep breath and headed outside to face Rafe.

He stood on the porch, rubbing his buzz cut, and turned to you as you stepped out. “What the fuck? Are you kidding me right now? Your cousin’s baby? I knew you were lying—I can tell when you’re lying.”

“This isn’t how I wanted you to find out,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Well, I know now, so you better explain everything to me.” Just as you prepared to respond, the sound of bikes pulling up caught your attention. JJ and John B quickly hopped off and approached, with JJ stepping in front of you, his eyes narrowing at Rafe. “What the hell are you doing here, Rafe?”

“Your sister has a lot of explaining to do to me—back off,” Rafe retorted.JJ turned back to you, a puzzled look on his face, and you assured him, “It’s fine,” as you directed him and John B inside.

Pushing Rafe away, you led him down to the docks, searching for the right words to start. He took the initiative, his voice steady yet filled with tension. “So it’s true? This isn’t just something misheard?”

You nodded, feeling the weight of his anger and confusion. “I’m sorry, Rafe. I really don’t have any words to describe how sorry I am.” Tears began to well up in your eyes.

“Don’t cry. You don’t get to cry after what you did to me.” His words stung, and the tears fell harder now.

“Okay, okay, calm down. Please just tell me what’s going on,” he urged, his voice softening slightly. You both settled onto a bench facing the water, the calmness of the waves contrasting the turmoil inside you.

“I—um—I,” you stammered, taking a deep breath. “She’s a year and two months. Her name is Vivienne Rae Cameron-Maybank. She has my tan skin and lips but your hair color and your eyes. She’s really beautiful—so bubbly and full of life. She’s innocent, blissfully unaware of how cruel the world can be. I envy her.”

Rafe ran his palm over his face, the weight of the revelation settling heavily between you. “A year and two months. That means—”

“I knew before I left,” you interrupted, your voice trembling slightly. “That’s what I was doing in the bathroom. JJ called me saying he needed me, and then you said you needed to handle something. I just threw everything in my bag and raced out the door. I didn’t expect all of this to happen afterward.”

Rafe looked at you, his expression a mix of hurt and frustration. “You should’ve just told me. It would’ve changed everything.”

“Maybe, but when I came back, you wanted nothing to do with me. All these thoughts raced through my mind, and I told myself you wouldn’t want her either.” You had always known that Rafe dreamed of being a dad—someone who would show unconditional love while teaching his child to navigate life’s challenges. He longed to be the complete opposite of Ward, striving to give his children what he never had.

He never expected to find himself in this situation, especially not in his early twenties. He thought he’d have more time to prepare, but now he stood heartbroken, grappling with the reality that he had missed so much. Anger simmered within him as he wrestled with feelings of inadequacy, thoughts of not being a good father creeping in.

“How could you do this to me?” Rafe stood up, gripping the dock railing as if it were his lifeline. “FUCK!”

“Rafe, please calm down,” you pleaded, your heart racing.

“No! You think you can hide this from me and then tell me to calm down?! I’m her father, and you kept her from me. Where is she?”

“She’s with my mom back on the mainland.” You stood up as he moved closer, towering over you. “You go get her and bring her here. I want to meet her. You need to make up for all the time you stole from me.” His finger pointing in your face as her gets words out through his teeth gritting together. “Okay, I can go get her tonight. You can come by tomorrow at 2 to meet her.” He scoffed. “Come by? You’re bringing my child into the cut? No way.”

“Sorry that your daughter is half Pogue, Rafe, but if you want to meet her, you’re coming to where I’m comfortable. This isn’t a negotiation.” You could see the regret in his eyes for implying anything about your background—it wasn’t about you; it was about him already being in protective father mode. He knew the cut wasn’t the safest place.

“Fine, 2:00 to meet her. I’ll be there. See ya.” He then turned and drove off, leaving you standing there, heart racing.

As you made your way back inside, everyone rushed to meet you. “What’s going on?” “Is he seriously mad at you after everything he’s done?” “You’re not going to trust him with her, right?!” The questions bombarded you at a hundred miles a minute.

You walked past them in silence, but JJ ran after you. “Where are you going?”

“It’s five hours back to the mainland where my mom is. I gotta get going now if I want to be back at a good time.” You grabbed your bag and headed to the car.

“You’ve got to be joking! After everything he did, you’re giving in this easy?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and smile at your brother. Partly because you loved how protective he was over you. Especially being 3 years younger.

“You don’t understand, JJ. He’s still her father.” Ignoring the rest of his protests, you drove off.

In the back of your mind, you felt the weight of your secrets. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell JJ that it was all your fault. He already despised Rafe, and you had convinced yourself that is Rafe wanted nothing to do with you he would want Vivienne either. You made him promise never to bring it up to Rafe, and shockingly, he hadn’t. Only Sarah knew the full truth. Hiding this from Rafe had eaten away at you every day, but you were too cowardly to face it.

You returned home around 11:00 PM, a full 11 hours after the morning’s events. Thanking god for your easygoing daughter, you knew she would be asleep in her car seat, having fallen asleep at her usual time of 8:00 PM. You’d have no trouble carrying her inside.

As you entered, everyone greeted you with soft whispers, crowding around you and Vivienne. JJ had made a makeshift crib in the room that used to be Luke’s and had saved you some dinner after your long day. You gently placed Vivienne in her crib, then joined the group outside.

You never tried to defend Rafe to them; they saw him as the bad guy. So when they started hounding you with questions again, you simply said you were giving him a shot. You knew they didn’t like him, but he deserved that much as her father. Nothing more. You finished eating and retreated inside, exhaustion weighing heavily on you from the day’s events.

Taglist-

@maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505 @dayyzlol @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @calaryssia @leilanizcals @eg-dr3amer3

[yandere-daydreams]

file #2: the amputation fic.

part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.

pairing: yandere!gojo satoru x reader (jjk).

length: 2.9k.

warnings: non/con, amputation, unhealthy relationships, abusive relationships, obsessive behavior, amputation (no injury to reader in fic), handjobs, masturbation, and unbalanced power dynamics.

“Babydoll? You wanna let me in?”

A beat of silence, a light knock. You stayed where you were, crumpled on the bathroom floor, and Satoru sighed.

“C’mon, angel. I can’t help from all the way out here.”

You clenched your bloody arm closer, pulling your knees up to your chest. An orange-tinted, half-emptied pill container sat lidless and on its side next to you. Shoko’s pills took care of the worst of the pain, but a steady, persistent throbbing had lodged itself in the knob that used to be your wrist and refused to let-up. It probably wouldn’t for the next hour, if not the next day.

“I can’t take you to see Shoko if you keep me locked out.”

At that, you relented, uncurling with from your self-made bundle. It took a second to shift yourself onto your knees, another to find the doorknob with your remaining hand, but Satoru himself in as soon as the lock clicked out of place. Thankfully, mercifully, he gave you time to skitter back to your corner before crossing the threshold, but that didn’t stop you from withering as his eyes raked over you, as he evaluated the damage. Eventually, he collapsed against the adjacent wall and sunk to the floor, letting out a raspy groan before tossing you a familiar, crooked smile. You didn’t return it. “That mad at me, huh?” You didn’t respond, gaze dropping to your decimated hand – or, rather, the mangled stump that used to be your hand. His smile wavered, but didn’t fall away. “Yeah, no, I probably deserve that. Does it hurt?”

You didn’t indulge him with an answer. “Did you call Shoko?”

“On a mission,” he said with a slight shrug, a strong note of ‘what can you do?’ in his tone. Like this was some minor inconvenience, annoying but ultimately trivial. Like like you weren’t missing an essential part of yourself. “She said she’d swing by as soon as she’s done, but I’d give it another hour. I think she’ll kill me if I keep asking her to make house calls.”

Another beat of silence, another deafening failure to respond on your part. Finally, he turned to face you properly, leaning forward. “…can I?”

He always did this – paused like that, smiled like that, tried to make himself seem so gentle, so loving, so considerate. It might’ve been well-meaning, an attempt to let you know he was sorry without having to swallow enough of his pride to actually apologize, but all it ever seemed to make you feel was cold and alone, stuck in a shell of an apartment with a shell of a man. It was always the same. It was always going to be the fucking same.

And, like always, you relented, looking away as you nodded stiltedly. Satoru’s smile brightened as he closed the distance between you, his thigh pressing into yours as he settled against your side.

When you’d first gotten into a relationship with Gojo Satoru, you told yourself that if things ever so much as seemed like they might be going south, you were gone. You hadn’t known anything about cursed energy or sorcerer hierarchies or malevolent spirits, but you didn’t have to – even if you hadn’t watched him obliterate monsters the size of apartment buildings with a snap of his fingers, he still would’ve been the strongest person you’d ever met, a man capable of shattering bones with his bare hands and breaking open skulls with all the effort it would’ve taken you to swat a fly out of the air. He was dangerous to be around, even if you doubted Satoru could ever intentionally hurt another living, breathing person. He was rich, and pretty, and strong, and used to getting his way. You loved him, but you needed to be able to leave if it ever seemed like that love was going to put you in danger.

And you did leave. The first time you argued, the first time he lost control of his temper and you were left sobbing on the floor with nothing below your left knee, you’d gotten as far as you could as quickly as you could. It’d taken him a full week to track you down, another to convince you that one of his bizarre friends could heal you, and roughly half a minute of Satoru sobbing and clinging to your (newly restored) leg for you to forgive him, to write it off as an accident – just the kind of risk you took when you got into a relationship with someone who could deadlift armored tanks. The second, you’d stayed at a friend’s place for a few days before coming back on your own, as desperate for his miracle-cure as you were for the pet comforts that came with Satoru’s bottomless fortune. The fourth, you’d barricaded yourself in his bedroom for sixteen hours and only come out for Shoko, who’d muttered about your ‘wreck of a boyfriend’ as she rebuilt the three missing fingers on your right hand.

Now, on the ninth, you’d barely managed to keep him locked out of a bathroom for all of five minutes. It was embarrassing, more than anything. You wanted to be able to hate him, you wanted to be scared of him, but it was hard to be scared of someone you loved. Someone you loved as much as Satoru, especially.

You shook your head, dragging yourself out of your own spiraling thoughts. Your attention, instead, moved to Satoru – still slumped against the tiled wall, his head lulled back and his attention focused pointedly on the ceiling. You were dressed to go out, uncomfortable jeans and all, but Satoru looked like he just rolled out of bed – a plain white shirt pulled tight over his broad chest, a pair of pitch-black sweatpants falling low on his waist, the lights dim enough to mean his piercing blue eyes didn’t have to be locked behind tinted glass or thick fabric. That was what you’d been arguing about, even if it was hard to remember why it’d seemed like such a big deal. He had the day off, no class and no cursed spirits to slaughter, and wanted to waste his morning in bed, with you wrapped in his arms. You’d tried to tell him, as slowly and as tenderly as you could, that you couldn’t, that you had an important early-morning lecture, that you’d be back by the time he actually wanted to get up, but he’d whined and pouted and you’d lost your patience when he reminded you that you could ‘always drop out’. You tried to leave, and he tried to catch your hand, to make you stay for that much longer, and—

“Can I see it?” You were almost thankful to hear his voice, if only for the distraction. “Your hand, I mean. If you’re comfortable with showing me.”

You weren’t, but you were desperate not to sink back into your own head, either. Slowly, cautiously, you shuffled that much closer to him, folding your legs underneath you as you gingerly held out the arm you’d spent the better part of the last few minutes cradling. It made you sick to look at a part of your own body so violently distorted, so violently wrong, so you didn’t – keeping your focus trained on your knees as Satoru took up your shortened limb. His own healing abilities had taken care of the worst of the gore, but even with the open, gaping wound at the end of your arm closed, there was still a ring of bruising around your wrist, streaks of dried blood running down the length of your forearm, a raw quality to the skin where his hap-hazard repairs hadn’t quite taken. His touch was feather-light, skirting around the worst of the remaining damage and lingering near your elbow, then your bicep. Acknowledgement came in the form of a low whistle, an airy sigh. You tried not to let his casualness get to you. Sorcerers must’ve seen injuries like this all the time. This was the end of the world for you, but Satoru would be just fine. “I’m not going to let you lift a finger after this. You know that, right? I’ve gotta make sure my pretty baby’s still nice n’ spoiled, even when I go and fuck everything up.”

It wasn’t an apology, but it was as close as he’d ever get. You grit your teeth and nodded, taking a second to find your voice. Even with the delay, it came out as a croak; almost too low and too ragged to be coherent. “This can’t keep happening, ‘toru. I love you, but this can’t keep happening.”

“I know, baby, I know.” One of his hands remained wrapped around your arm while the other, unoccupied, fell between his open legs. “I don’t mean to. If I had it my way, nobody would be able to touch you, but…” A pause, a laugh. “I just get so stressed out when we start fighting, like that. All I can think about is someone hurting you when I’m not there to keep you safe, and I forget how delicate I’ve gotta be with you. It feels like I’m not in control of myself.”

Despite your better judgement, you felt a deep, churning well of guilt open up inside of you. It was your turn to sigh, now, to slump, to let your eyes fall shut. “I love you,” you repeated, like it was the only thing you knew how to say. “It’s just— It scares me, when you get like that. I know you’re just trying to be protective, but it hurts.”

You heard his breathing pick-up, his grip tighten ever so slightly. Not enough to hurt, but enough to feel. “I know, sweetheart. I’m just trying to take care of you.”

“You do take care of me, but—” You were cut off by a breathy swear, a throat groan. Momentarily, your fear and self-loathing gave way to irritation, a frown tugging at the corner of your lips as you opened your eyes and snapped towards Satoru. He was still focused on your arm – what was left of it, at least – but his gaze was glazed over, far away, and his hand was moving between his—

You put it together too quickly, the force of the realization leaving no time for numbing shock or dampening confusion. He was touching himself, grinding the heel of his palm into the base of his cock. You could see the outline of his shaft against the dark material – already half-hard, if not worse.

If you’d been able to feel anything, you might’ve felt sick.

Reflexively, you tried to pull away from him, but his hold on your arm only tightened, fingertips digging into your bicep as Satoru laughed, the sound strained and airy. “Sorry, sorry, my bad. I know you like a head’s up, but…” Now, he looked at you, but it was too late, too much, too sudden. All you could seem to think to do was gape back at him, unmoving and unthinking. “Guess it’s just what you do to me. I’ll try to make it quick – all you’ve gotta do is sit there and look pretty.”

It was a familiar line, a familiar excuse. You’d heard it a thousand times – mumbled into your neck as draped himself over you in the early hours of the morning, spouted off as he dragged you back to his car halfway through dinner at a restaurant you’d been looking forward to visiting for months – but it didn’t seem to make sense, this time, didn’t fit with the image of your missing hand hovering a few inches above your loving boyfriend’s erection. The dissonance only seemed to get worse, more dizzying as he shrugged the waistband of his sweats past his hips and down to his thighs, freeing his stiff cock. You’d been too generous, before; he was already hard, his tip flushed a dark pink and leaking thick beads of arousal. Again, you tried to get away, and again, he only pulled you closer, until your side was flush against his. There was a deep grunt, a hazy grin as he wrapped a fist around the shaft of his cock, his grip almost painfully tight. His eyes never left the dull stump on the end of your left arm, his raspy breathing soon turning to a deep, heady panting as you watched him pump his fist over his cock, his pace slow and methodical – a far cry from the spontaneous, erratic Satoru you were used to. A soft voice in the back of your mind, awful and treacherous, suggested that he might be trying to savor it, and a dozen more screamed loudly enough to drown it out.

“Satoru,” you said, nearly surprising yourself with how distant you sounded, how detached. You didn’t feel detached. If anything, you almost felt too grounded in the feeling of cool tile against your back, the heat of his body where it pressed into yours. “Please, stop.”

“I don’t really have a choice, babe.” He shot you a playful grin, and for a second, you could almost imagine hating him. “It’d go a lot faster if you helped me out, though.”

You didn’t answer, but he didn’t need you to. His hand was already groping for yours, already forcing your reluctant participation. The position was awkward, your body half-bent over his, but when you shifted, Satoru’s thumb dug into the bone of your wrist and instantly, you went still. This was bad. Not having control of your only remaining hand was bad. But having your only remaining hand taken away from you would be worse.

Satoru didn’t seem to see it that way. Sounds of aching pleasure bubbled past his lips shamelessly, turning the abruptly claustrophobic bathroom into an echo chamber of pitchy whines and raspy groans and the slick, wet clicks of his cock fucking into your balled fist. It was terrible – being able to feel how his cock pulsed against your palm, being forced to acknowledge the little, stilted movements of his hips whenever he decided your (admittedly lackluster) pace left something to be desired. In less than a minute, his head had lulled onto your shoulder, his voice muffled by the proximity as he struggled to speak in spite of his own unabashed moaning. “Love you so much,” he half-mumbled, half-panted. You could feel his breath against your shoulder, his drool starting to pool just above your collarbone. “W-wanna take care of you when you can’t take care of yourself, make sure nobody else ever gets to put their hands on you. I’d be good – cook for you, n’ shower with you, ‘n dress you up all nice n’ pretty,” He paused, nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “You… You wouldn’t hate me that much if we left it that way, right?”

You felt something drop into the pit of your stomach. “Satoru, you’re—”

“Please, baby.” It was the same tone he used when he was begging you to make a late-night snack run with him, or when he wanted to finish inside of you without protection. “Just—Just tell me that you’d let me take care of you. Just say that you’d still love me.”

It felt like your throat was swollen shut, your chest stuffed to bursting with shattered glass and razor blades and spiny needles only just beginning to poke through your skin. You didn’t want to say anything, you didn’t think you could say anything, and yet, when your mouth fell open, you found a voice that was not your own seeping out by means beyond your control. “It’s alright,” you muttered, distantly, as his cock throbbed in your hand. “I’d still love you, ‘toru.”

Although, you were starting to wish you wouldn’t.

You heard him groan, felt something thick and searing spill over the back of your hand. Satoru’s hand, cupped snuggly over yours, kept you moving until every last drop had been milked out of him, until the final ember of his climax had burnt itself out. He went limp against you, his vice-grip finally falling away, but rather than run, you only straightened, wiping your hand on your jeans before tucking it into your lap. How you looked didn’t matter, anymore.  There couldn’t have been more than a few minutes left in your lecture, if you hadn’t already missed it entirely.

Silence interrupted only by panting breaths and the beating, drowning drum playing in your ears reigned over the confined space, keeping you in a state of bleary stasis until the sound of a sharp knock, shortly followed by a distant door opening broke through the fog. “That’s Shoko,” Satoru murmured, almost disappointed. He started to separate himself from you, only to relapse – burying his face in the crook of your neck and letting out a deep, contented sigh. “You know that I love you, right?”

“I know.”

“And you know that all I wanna do is keep you happy?”

“I know, ‘toru.”

“Good.” He pulled back, grinning. “’cause all I ever wanna do is take care of my angel. Don’t let anything ‘side from that get into your pretty little head.”

You only nodded as he pushed himself to his feet, as he slipped out of the bathroom to meet Shoko, to explain what vital part of yourself he’d torn away this time. You wanted to get up, to wash the cum off of your hand, to pump feeling back into your numb legs, but your remaining limbs were uncooperative, heavy and awkward and useless. It was all you could do to pull your knees up to your chest, wrap your arms around your legs, and hold yourself as you started to cry.

At least, next time Satoru decided to tear you apart, you might not find it so hard to hate him for it.

[hgfictionwriter]

Discovery: Part Six

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: With another revelation behind you, Jessie and you continue your exploration of one another and learn even more about each other.

Warnings: G!P content. Smut. A lot of smut. Penetrative sex, risky sex, breeding/preg kink, possessive sex and language, final lingering themes of rejection.

A/N: I've been absolutely blown away by the interest in this fic. Thank you so much everyone - I hope it's met your expectations. If not - message me, maybe something can be done. And again, thank you to @hoe4sports for the original prompt. Rest of the series is here.

"So...condoms," you finally said.

"Yeah...," Jessie replied slowly as she looked up at you, worry plain on her face. "I'm sorry," she added in a low voice.

You frowned in return. "What for?"

"Um," Jessie's gaze flicked away momentarily before returning to meet yours. "For making things even more difficult." Your face screwed up further.

"There's nothing to apologize for," you assured her as you removed one of her hands from your hips and brought it up to your lips to kiss. "I mean, that would be the equivalent of you telling me I need to apologize for having periods or ovaries," you finished with a faint smirk. Jessie was slow to respond, but eventually allowed a half smile to form on her face.

"I suppose that's true," she finally conceded.

You released her hand, Jessie letting it fall to your thigh and caressing you idly there as you held your chin in thought. Before she could inquire, you swung your leg over her and got off the bed to rummage in the back of your nightstand drawer.

Jessie's brow furrowed in curiosity as she watched you. She was about to inquire when you spoke abruptly, surprising her.

"Oh my God! I knew I there must've been some reason I kept this," you said as you suddenly revealed a condom to her. "My ex used them on her strap," you explained. "I guess it's probably about a year old?"

"Oh," Jessie replied as she reached out for it. "Well, that works." She had to laugh internally. Here you were looking thrilled and here she was trying not to imagine you with some ex getting pounded into the mattress.

"So, you still want to keep going?" She asked one more time.

"Yeah," you answered as if she'd asked something ridiculous. "Do you?"

Jessie gave a light laugh as she glanced down at her still-swollen cock. "Yeah, I'd say I'm still good to go."

You chuckled in approval and she smirked as she brought the package up to her mouth and tore off the top with her teeth. You climbed onto the bed and knelt next to her as she slid the condom over the tip of her cock and rolled it down.

Once it was in place, she looked to you. "So, uh, do you want to be on top again? Then you can, you know, set the pace and such, if you want..."

While she felt confident not even 10 minutes ago, the weight of what you two were about to do was suddenly back upon her. If her sudden uncertainty irked you, you didn't show it.

"Sure," you said, unbothered, as you straddled her once more.

Jessie held her cock for you and you reached down to grasp it as well. She let go right away.

"Oh, yeah, go ahead," she said as she pulled her hand back and rest it on your thigh. You smiled at her and adjusted your position above her.

Jessie bit back a moan as the tip of her cock, though sheathed, pressed against your wet and luscious folds before you settled her at your entrance. She could feel the immense heat through the condom already and exhaled steadily through her nose. Her eyes were locked on how you held her length, poised at your entrance before you started to slowly sink down.

She exhaled through her mouth subtly as she felt you start to stretch around the head of her cock. The way your hot core wrapped around her already felt astounding, combined with the visual of her member ever so slowly slipping inside of you had her blood pumping.

You were tight - so tight - she wanted to groan, to toss her head back, but instead she settled with simply squeezing your thigh and tightening her jaw.

You paused, just the tip of Jessie inside of you at this point. She looked up at you.

"Are you okay? Is this alright?" She asked.

"Yeah," you said in a breathy voice and offered her a smile. "You're just...," your eyes flit away sheepishly, "bigger, than what I normally play with."

"Oh," Jessie said, her face starting to burn hot immediately.

"I also don't typically do much in the way of penetration," you added.

"Oh, well, we don't have to," she offered right away - though the thought of pulling out and ending this now was the last thing she wanted. "Or, you know, take your time - take all the time you need. Is there anything I can do?"

"Jess," you chided mildly through a soft laugh. "I want this. I really do. I'm just taking a moment to adjust. But believe me, I'm jealous of the view you have right now. I'd love to see you sinking inside of me."

"Ffff," Jessie nearly cursed, her hands kneading your thighs once more and you smiled triumphantly at her reaction.

She was going to say something, but you sunk down further onto her. Again, Jessie fought the urge to react to how blissful it felt to feel your walls swallow her, soft and oh so warm, fluttering around her as you breathed and moved. This time, your mouth fell open and your eyes shut as she filled you up and it was did nothing but encourage her.

You hadn't sunk down all the way, but you lifted yourself back up until just her tip was inside of your tight entrance. The movement, your tunnel gripping her and trying to keep her inside of you as you lifted yourself, felt beyond incredible.

This time when you sunk down, you did so quicker and sunk down further - almost to the hilt, but not quite. Jessie exhaled through her lips as she moved her hands to your hips.

You rose up once more, again, taking all of Jessie's concentration to not get lost in the feeling before you sank down - all the way this time, bottoming out and resting on her hips.

"Oh shit," you breathed, your hands gripping her forearms. She was about to ask if you were okay when you rose up and sank down again. "Oh my gosh, you are stretching me out. It's good," you added quickly, holding out a hand in defense, anticipating her line of questions with a laugh. "It's," you gave a cock of your head, "really good." You came to in a way and looked at her. "Are you okay? I didn't even ask."

"Oh. I'm good," she said, trying not to laugh. As if she'd be anything but good.

"Okay," you chuckled as you raised an eyebrow, teasing. "Well. How about we get you to something better than 'good'."

"I don't think you need to worry about that," she told you and any further thoughts ceased as you leaned forward, placing your hands on her shoulders and allowing your hips to move forward enough that she nearly slipped out before you dropped your hips once more.

"Oh, and I should say, same as before," you said softly, "if I'm doing anything you don't like or if there's something else you want me to do, just say so."

Jessie shook her head, slow to pull her eyes away from how your hips were moving. She cleared her throat and looked you in the eyes. "I love everything you're doing. And same - tell me if you don't like anything or want something else."

You nodded rapidly, but didn't seem that focused on her words. Your eyes were now closed again as you rolled your hips against hers.

Soon, your tentative movements were long gone and you were steadily riding her cock, rocking up and down, your mouth agape and eyes closed as you moaned now and then, your head falling back and your breasts swaying. Jessie reached up and grasped both of your breasts in her palms, massaging them and gently pinching your nipples. You moaned further, your hands coming up to hers and encouraging her to knead them even harder.

In time, Jessie found herself subconsciously flexing her hips to meet yours as you fell back to her. The heady moan you released the first time she did it encouraged her and she grasped your hips and continued to meet your gyrations.

"Oh fuck, that's so good, Jess," you praised as she pumped up into you. She bit back a smile at how the sound of your skin on hers started to fill the room. She could hear how wet you were; though it was never a question as she slid in and out of you with ease despite how you gripped every inch of her.

Jessie's stamina was usually one of her strong suits. However, no matter what, given how long it'd been since she'd been with someone, tonight was going to be a challenge. Never mind the fact that she was in love with you, you loved her back, and despite what she'd been expecting this morning, here you were on top of her, making love to her and you looked at her with warmth and want.

Despite the reprieve your earlier blowjob had given her, she wasn't going to last long. She had to make sure you came.

She reached inward with one hand to rest her thumb on your clit and began to circle it gently. Your jaw dropped further and you let a small cry, opening your eyes briefly to look at her with a look somewhere between disbelieving and appreciative.

"Oh my God," you panted. "You're making me feel so good. And God you feel so good inside of me."

Jessie exhaled heavily again as she tried to remain focused. Your walls were flexing around her even tighter than before and it was driving her crazy.

"Mm," you grunted, biting your lower lip as you bounced up and down on her, "I think I'm going to cum soon."

Jessie continued to play with your clit, but nodded rapidly.

"Me too."

You moaned deep in your throat. "That's so hot," you said as you leaned down to capture Jessie's lips with your own. The shift in position made it difficult for her to reach your clit, but you didn't seem fazed at all as you kissed her hungrily, moaning into it. You rode her harder and Jessie had to break off the kiss, gritting her teeth harshly as she did everything she could to stave off her climax.

"Go ahead," you whispered into her ear. "Fuck me harder. And cum for me. I want you to." You gasped in her ear as you continued to ride her and it nearly sent her over the edge.

Jessie exhaled audibly as she gripped your hips tightly. She was so close. Where she was simply meeting your thrusts before, she now held you in place and began to slam her hips up into you, causing cries of pleasure to fall from your lips and she felt you tense up and begin to pulse around her cock.

"Oh fuck, Jess," you said, your voice shuddering as you came, your back arching into her as she continue to pump into you from below. She wrapped her arms around the small of your back and rut into you with enough force that the headboard of the bed began to bang against the wall. Renewed cries from you echoes off the walls and Jessie's vision began to narrow.

A few thrusts in, a blinding heat went through her and all the tension and pleasure she'd held back came over her. A muffled moan came out of her as she began spurting jets of cum into the condom, her hips pushed flush against your heat as she held herself in place as her cock twitched inside of you.

When she finally was drained, her body fell back to the mattress, sinking in and you collapsed on top of her. She held you in her arms and you both breathed heavily, Jessie only belatedly realizing the sheen of sweat on both your bodies.

As she regained her senses, she slowly ran her fingers lightly up and down the curve of your back as you lay spent on top of her. Jessie softened inside of you and at one point you shifted and she felt herself pop out of you. You chuckled and kissed her collarbone.

"Holy fuck," you breathed. "That was amazing."

Jessie chuckled. "You did all the work."

You snickered. "Well, the hottest part was the very end. Holy Christ. That was," you lifted yourself up, bracing yourself on her shoulders as you looked down at her with a crooked grin. "unexpected. But amazing."

"I thought you asked me to." Jessie began to blush.

"I did! And it...exceeded expectations. Let's put it that way," you said as you leaned down once more began to kiss her. She grinned into the kiss initially, but soon it deepened and both your hands and hers began to wander once more.

You began to subtly rock your body against hers as you kissed her sensually and she felt herself began to grow hard yet again.

"Shit," she muttered into the kiss, now distracted by the wasted condom on her hardening cock. "Hold on."

You made room for her as she got up and disposed of the condom. She was partially hard when she returned and she caught the gleam in your eye.

"You wouldn't happen to have another condom in your drawer, would you?" She asked.

You shook your head and Jessie hung hers in disappointment before mustering up a smile for you.

"Well, I'm grateful we got to do anything at all," she said. "I'm happy to do...other things for you. Or if you're done, that's totally fine too."

She watched you intently and saw the wheels in your head turning.

"But what if I want to continue?" You asked as you pulled her back down onto you in a kiss, which she readily met. "What if I want you inside me again?"

Jessie felt herself twitch at your words, her kiss stalling as a wave of arousal went through her. She smiled with a disbelieving shake of her head before kissing you again.

"That's pretty risky, isn't it?" She said, though her hands and yours were beginning to wander once more. She felt you shrug.

"The timing isn't that horrible for me right now. I know there's no such thing as an actual 'safe' time, but it's not the worst. And I can go get Plan B in the morning."

Jessie's mind rattled as you gave your proposition. This was a lot. She would've never entertained the thought with other girls.

"I love you, and I've wanted you for so long now. And I know we just had sex, but...all that's done is make me want you more."

She should say 'no'.

"I can come with you in the morning," she said instead. Another pulse went through her as you moaned softly into the kiss.

"Is that a 'yes'?" You asked as you rolled your hips up into her. She shifted, rubbing her hardening cock between the top of your pussy lips and across your clit. You mewled, head collapsing back into the pillow and she took the opportunity to kiss your neck. You gasped and began running your fingers through her hair, pulling her tighter to you.

"That's a 'yes'," she confirmed as she drew her hips back and rubbed her cock across your clit once more.

She pulled back to look at you and kissed your lips slowly. She spoke in earnest. "I trust you." You kissed her deeply, both hands cupping her face now.

"I trust you, too."

Jessie couldn't believe how all of this was unfolding. It was all too good to be true.

She continued to tease your clit with her cock, relishing the way you writhed beneath her and the way your hands caressed her body, hungry and searching. She eventually reached down to feel you and a shiver shot through her as her fingers were met with a pool of wetness at your entrance.

"God, baby, you're so wet," she said in reverie.

"Jess," you said as she kissed your neck while she held herself above you.

"Yeah?" She asked, stilling her movement, your lips hugging her cock as it rest on your clit.

"This is probably not the time, but, you've opened up so much today. So I can't help but think I should be open too."

She frowned as she lifted her head up to look at you.

"I-," you paused. Your cheeks were red; Jessie assumed from arousal and exertion, but she wasn't sure. "I think...," you trailed off. You exhaled and restarted, holding her gaze. "I think I have a bit of a kink."

That was not what she was expecting.

"O-oh," she said. She waited a couple of seconds for you to carry on, but you didn't. "What kind of kink?"

You inhaled deeply, eyes darting away this time.

"Um. Probably seems a bit counter-intuitive since I've only been with girls for years, but...um. Okay-" you looked back at her "-when you told me you had a cock. I mean, I was of course grateful that you were honest with me and you felt safe telling me. But...it's also. Really hot. Like, maybe you can tell," you laughed, "by the fact that I'm on my back, legs spread for you, but I think it's really sexy. And, um, the fact that you can get me pregnant - not that I want to get pregnant right now," you added adamantly, "makes it even sexier." Your cheeks were bright pink now. "I'm not trying to scare you, I swear. Like, the thought that you can get me pregnant, is outrageously hot to me."

Jessie was about to speak, but you went on in a rush.

"Again, I really don't want to get pregnant right now. So please don't think that's where this is going. I very much know that's a joint decision, much, much further into a relationship. That's why I say it's...well, a kink. The idea is turning me on - so much. I don't want it to be a reality, but the idea, the thought of it, the vision of it, it's making me very wet."

Though Jessie's mind was struggling to keep up, her cock standing tall and strong, aching for more said enough. She'd never really allowed herself to indulge in those thoughts, but what you just described made her throb.

"I'm really sorry if-"

She cut off your apology with a hard kiss as she rolled her hips against your clit once more, eliciting a low moan from you as you wrapped your arms around her shoulders.

She didn't say anything further, instead she reached down, positioning her rock hard cock at your dripping entrance and gently moving her hips to push inside you, an even easier task than before with how aroused you were.

Your fingers dug into her shoulders as you moaned and Jessie's back arched up into your touch as your warmth hugged her tightly, that first sensation of slipping in sending goosebumps across her skin.

"Oh fuck, Jess," you breathed. "God, you feel so fucking good in me. I love the way you fill me up."

Jessie swallowed a deep moan and drew back her hips before she slid home once more, her stroke firm, but gentle. Your hands clawed at her back already and she felt a frenzy starting to build inside of her.

She began to build a steady pace, pumping into you and angling her hips to make sure to hit your g-spot.

"Oh my God," you panted as you spread your legs wider for her, and she suppressed a primal growl at the gesture.

Your fingers began running through her hair, digging into her crown now and then as your pleasure mounted.

"Jess," you breathed. "I want to hear you. Please," you pleaded as one leg wrapped around her waist and your other heel dug into the mattress as you continued to writhe beneath her.

Tension sat in her shoulders as she processed your request. Your fingers dug into her crown again and she allowed a faint moan to escape her throat.

"Mm, yes, just like that," you said as you massaged her scalp and opened yourself up even further; she latched onto your neck and began kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin there as she continued to pump in and out of you.

"Oh God, Jess. You fuck me so good," you praised and Jessie grunted in approval of your words, her pace quickening and beginning to suck harder on your neck.

You panted, your hands still caressing her as you spoke, "You can mark me if you want."

At this, Jessie finally let out a growl. She widened her stance, using her thighs to push your legs further apart, one hand tightening your leg around her waist and holding you as she started to bounce her hips off of yours. The sound of her strong thrusts, amplified by her bare cock slipping in and out of your soaking pussy filled her ears and caused the hairs on the back of her neck to rise.

She latched onto your neck and sucked hard to enough to leave a mark. You gasped and she groaned into the kiss.

"Be careful with what you say," Jessie found herself confessing. "If you tell me you're mine, I don't know if I'll be able to let go."

"Oh fuck," you moaned as your brought your fingers to her back and dug your nails in. "It should be me warning you. If you make me yours I'm going to make you do it again and again."

"Oh shit, Y/N," Jessie panted as she began to thrust into you with greater fervour. She pulled her head back enough to examine her work, sure enough there was a bruise forming where she'd just kissed you. She grinned wickedly. "I'm gonna make you mine. Make sure everyone knows you're taken."

You whimpered under her and she grit her teeth with a groan as your dragged your nails across her skin.

"Fuck. Make me yours, Jess. Please," you begged and she began marking up your chest.

The way you moved beneath her, the sounds you were making, the words you were speaking, the it felt to be buried inside of you, it was driving her wild in a way that was entirely new to her. Your earlier words rang in her head and left her wanting more.

"All I can think about is cumming inside of you," she said as she returned to your mouth and bit your lower lip. "The thought of you taking my cum is so sexy."

"Oh Jesus," you panted as you clutched her to you. "I can feel myself dripping onto the bed. I've never been so turned on. I want your cum so bad. I want to feel you cumming inside of me. Makes me yours in a whole other way."

Jessie groaned in your ear and began to really roll her hips, her knees and feet digging into the bed for leverage as she began to pump into you forcefully enough that the bed began to shift and bang against the wall again.

"I'm gonna make you mine," she panted. "I want my cum deep inside of you. Spilling out of you. And fuck, maybe one day it'll take."

"Oh God. Jess, I'm going to cum," you said as you covered your face with your hands, helpless to do anything else as she not only fucked you, but talked you towards your orgasm.

Jessie continued to thrust into you, pressing your body into the mattress with every stroke. Your heat felt like bliss around her and she felt you tightening around her.

"I'm gonna cum," she warned you.

"Please baby," you gasped as you wrapped your legs tightly around her waist. "Cum inside me."

Sweat was beading on her forehead as that tightness between her legs mounted ever more. You cried her name and began to convulse around her, your nails now scratching up her back. She grunted as she thrust into you deeply and coated the inside of your core with ropes of hot cum. She groaned as she poured herself into you, digging her feet into the mattress as she buried herself as deep into you as she could.

You might high and desperate in her ear and she let out a few more guttural moans as she drained herself inside of you.

"Oh my God," you finally panted after Jessie fell slack on top of you, shifting to the side slightly to not put her entire weight on you.

Jessie's mind and body was still in a daze and it was several more seconds before she finally became aware of you idly stroking her hair.

"Are you okay?" She asked, as she lifted herself to look at you.

"Um," you chuckled lightly, bringing a hand up to rub your face, "I'm, um, a little concerned that that is the only kind of sex I'm going to want from now on."

Jessie exhaled into a laugh as she kissed your neck, already pulling another soft moan out of you.

"Shit, me too," she chuckled. "So you liked it?" She asked as her eyebrows rose in question.

You gave her a disbelieving look. "Are you serious? I have never orgasmed like that in my life. Oh my gosh. But I guess you wouldn't know that. I'm sure if you check the sheets you'll see evidence of how much I enjoyed it."

Maybe you were being facetious, but Jessie couldn't help herself and she pulled herself up onto her knees and looked down. Her cock drew out of you to the tip and her jaw dropped at the sight of her length coated in sticky, white cum from both of you and, sure enough, cum dripping down your cheeks onto the soaked sheets.

"Holy fuck, babe," she said as she shifted your legs outward just to even better appreciate the view. "Fuck, it's going to make me hard again."

Her jaw fell further as you reached out and began to stroke her length between your fingers, rubbing your cum all along her.

"That wouldn't be so bad," you teased. Jessie's chest rumbled as she gave you a look of warning.

"Jesus," she breathed as she felt herself hardening yet again and she pushed herself slowly back inside of you, adoring the way your lips wrapped around her and how a ring of cum formed at her base. She looked up when you moaned to see your head falling back into the pillows once more.

"Oh, baby," she said once more as she took in the sight before her. "You look so gorgeous with your legs spread for me."

"Oh God," you said as you dug your head further back into the pillow and ran your fingers through your own hair, shifting restlessly beneath her.

Her thrusts, though slow, still sounded wet and messy. You looked down your body at her devilishly.

"I can hear how much cum you pumped inside of me."

"Mmm," Jessie groaned as she sunk into you, pausing as she held herself deep inside. "How do you know exactly what I want to hear?"

You placed a hand on the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. "I think we're a good match for a reason." She moaned into the kiss and began to pump into you with stronger movements.

"God, I can't tell you how full you make me feel," you gasped as you broke off the kiss, guiding her lips back down to your neck.

"And you feel so fucking good around me. I can barely think," she said.

"Mm, well," you trailed a finger down her spine, sending a shiver through her, "this pussy is all yours. I want you to claim it."

Another primal rush coursed through Jessie's veins at your words. It felt like her skin was prickling - pins and needles - like she was itching to let go and find release. She grunted as she grabbed your legs and pushed them forward, pressing you further into the mattress and resting your ankles on her shoulders. You let out a cry of pleasure as she began to move into you with swift, strong thrusts that left the mattress creaking below you.

Jessie grinned as you whimpered and moaned with every stroke, your nails clawing at her flexed biceps.

"Oh fuck, that's so good, Jess. Oh God, don't stop," you begged.

"Your neighbours are going to know this pussy is mine, too," she declared. "They're going to blush anytime they see you because all they'll picture is you calling out my name."

You released another shuddering moan and Jessie continued to work you over, letting out months of pent up frustrations and leaning into untapped, dormant instincts as she made sure that even if you wanted to move on, no one else would compare.

She continued to pump into you, headboard now certainly leaving dents in your wall before you eventually pushed lightly against her shoulders.

"I have to move," you told her gently and she pulled back right away.

"Sorry," she said and you immediately cut her off.

"Do not be sorry. I'm fucking dripping wet. I just need to shift. How about...," you trailed off and pushed her back a bit again to give you room to climb up onto your hands and knees, presenting your cum-filled pussy for her.

"Holy fuck, you're a vision," she said as she ran her fingers through your folds, adoring the sound and look. You peeked over your shoulder at her with a grin.

Jessie stroked herself a couple of times as she settled in behind you.

"God, you are incredible," she breathed as she took her time watching how your entrance stretched out around her head to accommodate her. She exhaled, her mouth in an 'o' as she watched her cock disappear inside of you.

"Oh fuck, baby," you moaned as you immediately dropped from your hands to your forearms. Your back arched deliciously in front of Jessie and she immediately ran her palms along from your ass to your shoulders and drawing a needy mewl from you. "Fuck me, Jess."

You didn't need to ask twice. She drew her hips back, purposefully withdrawing from you altogether and smiling as you groaned in disappointment before she slipped back in and to the hilt; her bottoming out punctuated by a high moan from you.

She started off slow and steady, teasing you to some degree before she picked up her pace and was soon thrusting in and out of you more rapidly.

Her hands settled on your waist to balance herself as she fucked you, but eventually she shifted one hand down to rest on the lower part of your stomach.

"Jess," you moaned as you reached a hand back to lace your fingers together on your stomach.

An image flashed through her mind of you round and heavy with her baby and she blinked it away for now. That could be something she indulged in far more later. Still, she pressed her fingers into your stomach, caressing you and you moaned deeply, pushing your hips back into hers.

She moved her hand down further and began rubbing your clit. It wasn't long before your legs began to quiver.

This time you gave no notice and you began to spasm and clench around her as you buried your face into the bed, your scream muffled by the mattress.

With your tunnel gripping and massaging her the way it was, it only took a few seconds for her to cum with you. She groaned and her left hand dug into your hip as she pushed herself inside of you, climbing further over you to get as deep as possible as she spilled her seed into your waiting heat once more. She could feel herself pulsing inside of you and she let her head fall back, eyes blinking up at the ceiling as pleasure overtook her entire body.

"Fuck," she panted as she slowly rut into you a couple more times as the final spurts of cum drained from her cock into your waiting pussy.

You collapsed beneath her, her falling to the mattress with you and remaining sheathed inside of your warmth.

Neither of you spoke for what felt like several minutes, though Jessie laid the odd kiss on your shoulder as you both recovered. Finally, she lifted herself off of you, withdrawing as she did so. You groaned in disappointment.

"I liked having you in me and on top of me," you complained.

Jessie was entirely distracted by the cum that overflowed out of you and onto the sheets instead.

"God, I wish you could see this," she said.

You rolled over and reached down. Jessie's cock twitched as she watched you dip your fingers inside of you before pulling out, a thick string of cum bridging from your entrance to your fingers. Your jaw dropped and your eyes flicked up to her.

"Wow," is all you managed to say at first as you examined the cum on your fingers, spreading your digits and seeing the cum stretch between them. "You really did a number on me," you teased and she couldn't help but blush lightly.

You wrapped your mouth around your fingers and sucked her cum off of them. Jessie wore a lopsided grin as she watched you in awe.

"I'm going to be thinking of this night for a very long time," you chuckled as you relaxed into the bed and Jessie came up to lay next to you. You cuddled into her and she kissed the top of your head.

"Oh my God. If the quality of sex alone could get a girl pregnant, fuck, I'm a goner for sure," you told her.

Jessie chuckled. "Well, let's get you that Plan B sooner rather than later, then."

"Seriously," you laughed. "So much for us taking it slow."

As you rest in Jessie's arms, her mind raced to reconcile everything that had just occurred. It was even better than anything she'd dreamt of. You sighed contentedly and snuggled your head further into her shoulder.

She was nearly overwhelmed with emotion as she held you. She'd made girls cum before, numerous times; they'd made her cum, too. But having someone she loved, and someone who loved her, sleeping in her arms after the fact is something that was new to her. Something she'd wanted for so long, but felt easier to dismiss and forget about than to risk being disappointed and hurt.

Yet, here you were in her arms. She squeezed you and kissed your head once more. She didn't want to fall asleep. She wanted this moment to last.

-----

She had no idea what time it was when she fell asleep, but her sleep was both great and restless. It felt astounding to fall asleep with you, but despite everything, she woke up several times, some lingering vigilance preventing her from fully relaxing.

She knew this reaction wasn't logical with you. Everything you'd just shared today and been building over the past few months should assure her otherwise, but she was used to waking up to a cold bed, a girl making an excuse to leave, or even being handed her clothes with an impersonal goodbye.

She woke once as you shifted and got out of bed. Her heart immediately raced as she quietly watched you leave the room. She heard you in the bathroom and you came back a few minutes later and climbed back in next to her.

"Are you alright?" Jessie asked.

"Oh, sorry, babe. I didn't mean to wake you," you whispered as you cuddled into her. "I'm fine. Are you okay?"

Jessie calmed immediately as she felt your warm skin upon hers. "I'm okay."

You sighed quietly and kissed her shoulder. "I love you," you said as you settled in further and quickly fell asleep once more. Jessie was soon to follow.

-----

When she woke next, the sun filtered into the bedroom and illuminated her surroundings. She glanced over to see you in bed next to her still fast asleep.

She exhaled quietly, giving herself permission to remain relaxed and calm. Still, a faint spark of apprehension threatened to burn brighter in her chest. She couldn't shake this old feeling that she was going to be asked to leave. It didn't make any sense; there was no reason for her to expect you to do that, but she couldn't fully snuff out the worry.

When you stirred from your sleep a while later, you immediately smiled upon seeing her and kissed her arm.

"Morning, baby," you greeted.

"Good morning," Jessie smiled.

You asked her how she slept, how she was feeling and Jessie did her best, still, eventually you frowned lightly at her.

"Are you okay?" You asked. "You seem a bit...off."

"I'm okay," she tried to reassure you. You rose up onto your elbow and continued.

"Well, I can understand if you have a lot on your mind. We," you chuckled slightly, a wry smirk on your face, "covered a lot of ground last night. It's okay if you're, I don't know, having second thoughts or concerned. And don't worry - I'm going to the pharmacy as soon as I drag myself out of bed."

Jessie's M.O. was to just clam up and deflect. But, as she looked at you watching her with love and concern, she didn't want to this time. She couldn't.

"I don't know," she started shyly. "I guess, I don't know, some stupid part of me is still expecting to be kicked out. Like, okay, you got what you wanted and now I'm not needed. I know what we have is so much more than that and you're not like that at all, but I guess I can't fully block it out."

Your mouth fell into a frown and you cupped her cheek to kiss her.

"That is not the case at all, baby. I hate that you've been discarded like that. You never deserved to be treated that way," you said softly. "I want you to stay. Very much so."

Jessie managed a smile for you and you kissed her sweetly once more.

"And thank you for telling me. I really appreciate you being open," you added.

She cracked a smirk. "Well, if I want you to keep me, I've gotta communicate a bit better. Make it a little easier for you to stick around."

You shook your head at her with the most adoring look.

"I’m not going anywhere.”

Tag requests: @multifandomlesbianic @marvelwomen-simp @kathleenmikaelson

[thecuriousbeauty]

rough sex, size kink, daddy kink, multiple orgasms, etc. (don't judge me, I'm ovulating) ah, and I also love your writing

Rough- Harry Styles x reader (Smut blurb)

A/N:- Hey anon, thanks for the request! So sorry it took so long, I was on a little holiday:) Hope you love this!

Warnings: Everything in the ask! Pure filth. Smut. Fingering, degradation, light spanking, penetration(p in v), choking.

Word count: 1.6K

______________________________________________

You had pushed all his buttons. And now, he was fuming as he drove back home with you, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

To be fair, it was Harry who had to ditch your plans together because a meeting came up. He had been so busy lately, and he’d promised you that he’d spend the whole day with you. Although it wasn’t his fault, he didn’t hold up on the promise and he had to go away till the evening. Of course he apologized and told you he’d make up for it, but you decided to tease him a little in return.

When Harry was back, he wanted to take you to a fancy dinner but you said you just wanted to go out for drinks and that’s what you did. You wore a short silver dress that hugged your curves beautifully and the length stopped just right below your ass. You didn’t talk to him on the way. As soon as you got to the club, you went to the dance floor and started swaying your hips and your ass. Harry leaned on the bar stool, looking at you. 

He understood that you were pissed, so he just kept quiet. Until, you started flirting with another guy. It got so intense, he started rubbing against your ass from behind and you just giggled, enjoying how Harry’s eyes were burning as he watched it. He walked to the dance floor and threw the man off of you by his collar.

“Woah! What the hell man?”

“Hands off my girlfriend.”, Harry growled at him, and you tugged on his shirt. “Harry!”

“Geez I didn’t know she’s taken!”

And that’s how you were now sitting in the passenger’s seat of the car, arms folded across your chest while he drove you home. Harry didn’t say anything, which only made you anxious. Had you taken it too far? You just wanted to get him angry enough so he would rough you up a little. 

You were gonna rush up the stairs and to bed but Harry wrapped his hand around your hair, tugging it back, making you wince. “Not so quickly, sweetheart. You think I’m just gonna ignore that little act you pulled?” Harry’s deep voice rasped in your ear. 

“Y-You were being mean to me.”, you pout, gasping as he tugs you to his body, wrapping an arm around your waist and tightening his hold on your hair, making you lean your head back on his shoulder. 

“I was not. I apologized, I told you I’d make up for it. But no, you had to go and be a brat to get my attention.” 

As much as his hold on your hair hurt, you couldn’t help but smirk at how riled up he was, and you could see in his eyes how badly he wanted you. 

“Well guess what, baby? You’ve got all my attention now.” He dips his head down, lips finding the sweet spot on your neck and you moan softly, moving a hand to his hair to tug on his luscious soft curls. His hand moved from your hair to lift up your dress and land a smack to your ass.

You jerked forward, but his arm around your middle kept you in place. “Did I tell you could touch me?”, he asks, gripping the flesh of your ass. 

“No daddy..”, you moan, loving the sting from the slap but also how wet the thought of a punishment made you.

“That’s what I thought. You are not to speak or touch me until I say so, got it?”

“Yes.” You nod, yelping as his hand comes down again on the same spot he hit. “Yes, daddy.”, you correct yourself. 

He hums, yanking down the zipper of your dress and pulling it down your sides. “Fucking short little dress, putting on a show for everyone. Don’t worry, daddy’s gonna remind you who you belong to.”

He tugs off your bra before cupping your right breast and connecting your lips. You moan into his mouth as his tongue explores your mouth, and you’re tempted to touch his body, snake your hands under his shirt, feel his sculpted body under your hands. 

“Daddy..”, you whined, feeling his hardness against your ass. 

“I don’t think you deserve my cock. You were being a little whore today, weren’t you?”, he taunts, pinching one of your nipples.

“Sorry daddy, let me m-make you feel better.”, you say, fluttering your eyelashes at him.

“Shut up.”, he gives your breast a light slap before his fingers pull on the material of your thong. “This fucking thing barely hides your pussy.” He ripped it off, making you gasp. He was quick to stuff his fingers into your mouth, and the two fingers of his other hand slipped into your wet hole.

“I didn’t even do anything and you’re dripping wet.”, he says, sciscoring his fingers inside of you at a fast pace, making you squeal around his fingers in your mouth. He pushes them in further, hitting the back of your throat making you gag and your eyes water. 

“I think you forgot who owns your pussy. You’ll let daddy destroy your little pussy, won’t you?”

You nod fervently, your saliva sputtering around his fingers. He curls his fingers inside your vagina, hitting your g-spot repeatedly. “Fucking little slut. Do you want to cum?”

He removes his fingers from your mouth and presses his hand to your lower stomach, keeping you in place as you squirmed. Your legs were shaking and you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand. “Y-Yes daddy.”, you cry out, your toes tingling and your vision already going blurry with the amount of pleasure.

“Ask nicely.”, he hisses, biting your ear lobe. 

“Please, p-please daddy I’ll be good, please let me cum. I-I’ll be your good girl, I’m s-sorry!” You scream as his thumb applies pressure to your clit, rubbing quick circles. “Go on, cum all over daddy’s fingers.”

By the time you’re back on earth after the amazing orgasm you just had, Harry has you on the couch on all fours, giving you barely enough time to recover as he slides his cock inside your sensitive pussy.

“Shit, always so tight.”, he curses, fingers digging into your hips. “Daddy’s gonna fuck you like a whore. I know that’s what you like.”

You scream as he starts to thrust his hips, his cock hitting deep inside you. It felt so good. He filled you up incredibly. His huge dick came crashing into your walls and you could do nothing but cry out in pleasure. 

“You think that guy has a bigger cock? Can he fuck you like this? Make you cry?”, Harry leans down to ask in your ear. You can’t answer, your vagina trying to envelop him and at the same time, press him out. 

“Answer me.”, he gruffs, one of his hands coming up to wrap around your throat and lift your face up. 

“N-No, no daddy..”, you whimper and choke as he pulls up your upper body by your neck, and he adjusts himself so his cock hits a deeper angle. “Who’s the only one who can fuck you like this hm?”

“You, daddy. Y-You fuck me so good..” You were nearing your release again. “M-May I cum? P-Please daddy?”

“Yes.”, he slaps your ass, hard. He moans and throws his head back in pleasure as he feels your warm juices coat his pulsating dick. He’s flipping you around onto your back, holding your knees apart and slamming into you again.

You whine from the over sensitivity. “D-Daddy I-I can’t..it’s too much.”

“You can, you’ll take it like a good girl. I know you can.”, he says, looking down at your stomach to see the dent his dick was making from inside. His eyes move to your face, looking at your smeared mascara and plump red lips, then moving to your breasts. 

“So fucking pretty like this.”, he says, bending down to brush his lips against the corner of your mouth. “You can touch me, baby.”

Your hands immediately travel to his hair and his back to pull him closer to you. You were already as close as you could be, but you wanted him impossibly closer. His curly hair was messy and cheeks flushed from your activities, but he looked beautiful.

“I-I love you.”, you whisper, and he kisses you. You cling to him as he was the only solid thing around you, and he was the only one whom you trusted with your entire being. “I love you too, sweet girl.”, he whispers and presses his forehead against yours.

“Want your cum inside me daddy, fill me up.”, you say, clenching around him as you know he’s close.

“Fuck, just like that, baby, you take me s-so well.”, he moans. You cum again from the feeling of him filling you up, and Harry collapses over you as you both recover from your highs. The only noise in the room was of your heavy breaths.

Harry lifts his head to look at you, your closed eyes fluttering open as he taps your cheek. “You okay darling? Was I too rough?”

“I’m okay, it was p-perfect. Just tired.”, you tell him, smiling softly as he presses a sweet kiss to your cheek “I’ll run you a bath, get you something to eat and then we can go to sleep.”

You hum. “Sounds good.”

Harry stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Hey, I really am sorry about today, love.”

“It’s okay! All forgiven after that.”, you giggle and he grins, shifting to lay beside you so he could pull you into his arms. “Maybe I should make you angry more often.”

“Oh yeah?”, he smiles amused, pressing kisses to your face as you laugh. “My naughty little minx.”

______________________________________________

Taglist:-@livypops12352568 @harrydeary, @harryswifee, @harrysbxtchh, @gracelovesethan, @kiwitsayedsugar, @angeldavis777,@madstyles3204, @youngpastafanmug, @fruity-harry (Lemme know if you want me to add your name to the taglist!)

[juicesgf]

𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒚 𝑺𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 — 𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧! 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧

кเик†๏вэя, 𝓭𝐚𝔂 ⑤

𝘊𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨

The soft sound of a mouse clicking filled the air as Jacaerys played some game, a headset over his ears as he yelled at his friend’s on the other side. Y/n let out a soft giggle as she listened to him let out a meaningless complaint, her eyes lingering on the way his hands moved across the keyboard, how fast they had been moving.

A smile formed on her face as she watched him turn his head to flash her a smile, removing his headset from one ear so he could hear her, “Are you okay baby?” He questioned, ignoring the snarky teases Aemond and Cregan were speaking.

“Mhm” you hummed, moving yourself off his bed and standing by his side, running a hand through the back of his hair, staying clear of the headset.

Jacaerys let out a content sigh at the feeling, he always loved when you would play with his hair, it had been one of his favorite things. You couldn’t help but watch as his grip on his gaming chair tightened at the feeling of your nails scratching his scalp, the strange feeling you’d always get while looking at him forming between your thighs.

You leaned your head down, placing a small kiss on his neck, your nails still comforting his scalp as you continued to play with his hair. Jacaerys quickly muted his mic as he looked over at you, “Baby” He groaned as you placed a kiss on his jaw, “They will hear” He whined, his grip tightening on the chair.

“So stay quiet, please, Jacey. Need you” you murmured placing yet another kiss on his jaw, moving your free hand over the bulge that had now formed in his sweats. “Please?”

“Fuck, okay.” He groaned, lifting his hips up and pulling down his sweats and boxers, letting them rest on his lower thighs.

You let out a giggle as you slipped out of your panties, having only been wearing one of his oversized shirts. You quickly made your way over, spitting in your hand so you could get him wet and make the stretch easier. He let out a hiss as you did so before you lowered yourself down on him, wrapping your hands around his neck as he umuted, the sound of Cregan asking where he was filling your ears now that you had been so close to the headphones.

You tried your best to hold in a moan as you moved yourself, feeling him hit something deep inside you as you did. “Still.” He whispered low enough so only you would hear it. You let out a small huff but did as he said, staying still and resting your head in the crook of his neck, the feeling of just being this close to him giving you a sense of calm.

“On your left, Cregan!” Jace had shouted and tensed up causing his hips to thrust up and his length to go further inside you, earning a whimper in return as he quickly apologized. “Who are you apologizing too?” Aemond teased through the headset. “I kicked Y/n’s cat on accident.” Jace lied, muting his mic quickly, “Baby, m’ sorry” He murmured, groaning slightly as you sucked on his neck.

“I need you” You spoke, your words slurred as you continued sucking down on Jaces neck causing his hips to continue bucking up every once in awhile, giving you both what you need.

“One more round, princess, I promise.” He spoke before unmuting himself and shouting at Aemond, the sound of the boys laughter filling your ears.

Just as he said the moment the round ended he turned the game off muttering a quick goodbye to his friends before he threw the headset off and grabbed onto your waist, bucking up into you, his cock filling you perfectly.

[nathaslosthershit]

Some Bad, But a Whole Lot of Good (LS2)

Summary: To the fans, it wouldn't be unreasonable to assume the week after his replacement had been hell for newly dropped Logan Sargeant, but to the people who knew him, they weren't worried. Warning: James Vowles slander, a lot of it, I made Logan yell at him because I want to yell at him

Getting fired a week before your first child was born wasn't on anyone's bucket list. But here Logan was.

He was mad- no he was furious. Sure, the past few months with the team have been miserable, but this was the worst timing possible.

"Why now? Why not the two weeks we were off on break?" Logan asks yells. He doesn't lose his cool, at least not like this, not by yelling at his boss.

"Logan, you have to understand we are in between a rock and a hard place. I am truly sorry but it's a difficult time for us-" Vowles begins to explain.

"A difficult time for you? I am about to have a fucking baby, James. Next week! What the fuck am I supposed to do?" He got up and ran his hand through his hair. "You just had a baby a year ago, I would have thought you of all people would have thought this through more."

"Believe me, we have Logan, we have discussed this at length for a long time now."

"Oh fuck you! You have been thinking about this for a long time and choose now to do something about it? God, James, why do you hate me so much? I know I haven't met expectations, I know I have fucked up, but I still have given everything to this team and this is how you end it?" he finally met his boss'- ex boss' now, I guess, stare.

As Logan looked at his team principal, he tried to see any remorse or sincerity in his eyes but just as he had suspected, James' apology was bullshit, completely insincere. He knew this wasn't going anywhere, he didn't even know why he was fighting.

Formula 1 had been the dream for a while. Logan had let himself sacrifice everything he could to achieve it. He tried to tell himself that he had made it and that he was happy, but it wasn't true. He couldn't face the reality of the dream he worked so hard for not being everything he had imagined.

After meetings about contract termination and how they were to proceed, a sad little goodbye party filled with people that were probably thrilled to have him go, and an actually heartfelt apology and goodbye from his teammate and those he worked closely with, the American left the factory for the last time.

The most difficult part of this whole affair? Telling his very pregnant wife that he was now unemployed, a week until their first child's due date.

After tears, cursing a certain British boss' bloodline, and dissociative silence, Logan sat next to his wife as she suddenly burst into laughter.

He was stunned, she was practically doubling over, at least as much as she could in her current condition. The sight so ridiculous given the circumstances that he began to laugh too.

Several minutes were spent laughing until their stomachs hurt and then trying to catch their breath before either one of them could say another word.

"This is such terrible timing!" she said, wiping her eyes as she continued to giggle.

"Could not me a worse time" he replied as he started to laugh even harder.

"God, we shouldn't be laughing at this! We have officially lost our minds"

"Perfect timing too! Just like everything else"

It was ironic, this was the absolute worse scenario Logan could come up with but this was also the hardest he had laughed in a long time. When was the last time he actually laughed? The last time he actually felt joy about anything involving his job?

As if she could sense what he was thinking, she took a few deep breaths, finally calming down, as she said, "This is insane of me to say, but maybe this is a good thing?"

He knew where she was going, he thought the same, but he needed to hear her rationalize it before he agreed.

"I mean, honey, you were miserable. And I am sorry because I did love some of the people on your team but most of them were jackasses! It was such a time commitment and you have spent so long giving everything to them just for the team to spit in your face. Plus, with savings and such, we have enough to be fine for a while, even with the baby. You finally can put your family and yourself first"

She was right, it was time he admitted to himself how much he had hated his job in the past few months. How miserable it made him. How he could hardly enjoy anything in his life because he was always thinking of how to improve, how to show he still has potential even with the shitty car he was given.

"Im sorry. I- its not fair that I spent so long chasing a dead end dream that I couldn't actually enjoy what I do have. I mean, I could never race again and I would be 1000 times happier with out little family then I could ever be in F1. I will never not put you both first again." He said as he looked at her, held the bump, and genuinely got to relish in what was to come.

The first race weekend since Logan was replaced, he wasn't stewing in his misery, he was sitting in the hospital next to his wife, holding his first born, and the last thing on his mind was what was happening anywhere else in the world outside of the room his entire life was currently in.

logansargeant

liked by alexalbon, jensonbutton, and others

logansargeant New job

user1 hey! so this is insane

user2 unemployment has never looked better

alexalbon This is a crazy way to hard launch fatherhood but good on you, mate!

logansargeant got to keep them guessing

user4 dilf era yes please

oscarpiastri how long is the contract?

logansargeant full time for 18 years, then after there is a bit more leeway, but there is certainly no retirement in my future

user3 replaced right before he had a BABY?! oh that British fuck better watch out

jensonbutton Such a big moment! So happy to see where life takes you, I know it will be great!

A/N: Had to finish this right after the news he is testing for indycar in november dropped!!! U-S-A U-S-A!