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yanderenightmare · 10 months ago

Text

TW: nsfw, anal, suggestiveness & pressuring

fem reader

Thinking about really boyfriendly boyfriends – simpy and helpful and sweet – boyfriend material perfectly cut as if custom-ordered – boxed and shipped and sent express mail from the boyfriend factory with love.

He’s interested in your hobbies and studies and is equally passionate about sharing his interests with you. He’s comfortable and playful with your family and makes a true effort to befriend your friends. He’s even outgoing at parties where he doesn’t know anyone but you instead of sulking and asking you to leave like so many past boyfriends have.

He likes sharing food, sings loudly in the car, texts you throughout the day, and calls you when he’s at the store before coming over, asking if you need or want anything. He’s open and honest and geeks over new releases – that movie trailer, that game, those sneakers, that album, that car, and all that other boy stuff – and yet never fails to tell you how beautiful you are every time he sees you.

And he likes taking you on dates – cinema, arcade, roller rink, amusement park, road trips, picnics, beach days – or simply hanging out at his or your place – making food, binging a series in bed, kissing and dry-humping…

He’s just, all in all, everything you could’ve ever wished for. Perfect in every way.

Only… there hasn’t been a single time he’s had you in bed where he hasn’t all but begged to fuck your ass…

He’s literally crying for it while moaning, “Please~ lemme put it in~ just wanna try it once, please, baby~” with his hands squeezing your butt over your shorts and his head under your shirt, kissing and sucking your tits with the prayers on his lips as he humps his tented crotch against your clothed cunt – making your panties hot and damp.

You squeeze your eyes shut with a suppressed whine.

He keeps pleading, “I’ll be gentle~ just the tip~ I’ll go so slow~”

His fingers dig into the crevice of your cheeks, wedging your shorts and undies through your slit. Everything clenches from the friction.

Your face is heated, biting your lip with cinched brows. You knew he’d ask for it again today – he never doesn’t. Even though he’ll get pussy-drunk and pound your poor womb in a tight mating press the second he’s made you cum on his fingers.

He slurps your nipple, still begging, “Please, baby, please~ it’ll feel so good~ so-so-so good~”

You’d been deliberating giving in to his incessant proposals for a little while. He’d been so unrelenting you were starting to feel bad denying him for so long.

Not like past boyfriends hadn’t been equally relentless in the ask.

But this one was different… unlike the others… you really like him.

You think you might be in love with him, even though it’s a little early to say.

Still… since he’s so perfect… you want to do your best to be perfect for him, too.

So you’d made yourself ready for it this time – done preparations in the shower.

But… you pout… it was all so embarrassing, and your poor mind was riddled with doubts as though you were a virgin all over again.

What if something… gross happens? What if it hurts so bad you have to stop? Will it disappoint him? What if you hate it but go through with it anyway, only for him to keep asking? What if you have to break up because you won’t ever be able to look him in the eyes again?

“Are you okay? Is something wrong?” His voice slips through the inner turmoil.

He’d resurfaced from beneath your shirt on account of your silence, only to see you’d covered your face in both hands. He gently peels them away – revealing your eyes and the shy way you nibble your lip.

“I’m sorry…” He apologizes then. “I’ll stop asking-”

“No!” You blurt. To his surprise – staring at you with those big puppy-dog eyes you just couldn’t handle seeing look so disheartened. “I mean…”

You look away, cheeks burning – voice just barely above a whisper.

“If you really want to… I’m fine with it…”

He seemed to perk up at that. If he’d had a tail, you know it would be wagging behind him.

His chest swelled, eyes big and unblinking, swallowing thickly – breaths already thick with containment.

He leans in close and nose-kisses you, brushing your lips with heated words, “Really? You’ll let me?”

You made a small sound, too humiliated to say or do much more than nod your head in confirmation.

He seemed to shudder, closing the space between you, kissing your lips softly – he tasted like static – buzzing with restricted urgency. Parting with a soft-spoken yet strained, “Thank you.”

Both his hands messaged your waist – fiddled with the band to your shorts as though he couldn’t wait to drag them down your thighs and free you.

Still speaking against your lips, “Can you turn around on your knees for me?”

Everything was burning – from the tips of your ears to your lips and deep down in your stomach where something equally hungry and anxious was preparing for something.

He moved back to allow you to crawl into position, taking a pillow and placing it underneath you – patting it while telling you to “Lie down.”

You did like suggested, lying with your face and chest against the soft plume, sinking into it with your back in a slope and your ass presented. Heart pounding in your head, loud and hot, as he took position behind you – placing his hand back on your hips.

He hooked his fingers into the band of your shorts again, pulling them back over the fat of your haunches, then dragged them down slowly until they pooled around your knees. You felt the damp heat of his breath immediately hit the peach fuzz on the small of your back – seeping through the cotton of your panties – making your belly brew with butterflies.

“Just relax, okay? Tell me to stop if I go too far.” He said, sensing how you quaked as he placed both palms on your globes – denting the plump flesh with greedy fingers.

It’s not like you haven’t fucked in this position before – it’s just that you knew this time was going to be different. You felt so exposed.

He fingered the frill of your panties and started peeling them off – baring your naked skin and the pretty dip between your cheeks.

You yelped. His mouth was on you before he’d even finished undressing you – placing a sloppy half-bite half-kiss on your upper ass before proceeding to slurp the crack.

You whimpered – flustered and flushed as the heat of his tongue laid wet trails down through the valley until his lips met with your rim. You shuffled your thighs and balled the pillow in small fists as he groaned into you. Shamelessly squeezing your fat with his hands, spreading the cheeks to let him at your little puckered hole.

Your eyes screwed shut while you hid your face in the pillow beneath you – muffling all uneasy sounds as he canted his mouth against your ass. Chin rutting into your puffy cunt while bobbing his jaw, lipping at your taint and rim – nose nuzzled between your cheeks – mouth fully closed around you – moaning at the feel of it pulsing on the tip of his tongue as he runs it over the tight scrunch again and again.

Your shoulders brace as he tries and screw the wet muscle inside. You tense up way too tight for it to happen.

He smacks off with a raunchy sigh. Your heart is in your throat.

Slick from your ignored cunt feels sticky on your swelled pussy-lips – hot and twitching in the cool air.

He pops the cap of the little bottle of lube the two of you always keep on hand. You flinch when his slick fingers come back to rub your hole. He gives it slow and soothing circles before easing the tip inside. Filling you up only to the first joint, waiting for you to relax and loosen before sinking the rest inside.

He hums at the display, groaning, “Fuuh-ck~” Sliding the digit in knuckle-deep before slipping it out to the tip again – repeating the motion while feeling your muscles ripple around it. “You’re so cute, baby~ so pretty~”

He bows and places a chaste kiss on your buttcheek, laying his face on it like a pillow – his eyes half-mast while looking at his finger disappear inside you.

He works another in with the first, shuffling them – messaging the tightness, slowly training it to stretch. His hot breath fans over your wet skin, making you go goosefleshed.

“Fuck, baby – so pretty with my fingers inside yah~” He hums, almost in a whine while curling them inside you. “So fucking hot how you swallow and squeeze on ‘em like that~”

He pulls himself up again, tugging on his belt with one hand – keeping on fingering you with the other.

His pants drop to the floor a moment later, and he lifts his neglected cock out of the sticky mess he’d made in his boxers – throbbingly fat and hard, pulsing in his fist and leaking pre, another pearl each time he rubs over the bulge of his tip.

He looks at your hole – eyes misty. You seem to have loosened up a bit – enough for him to part his fingers.

He pulls them both out with a schlick. “I think you’re ready…” His voice is sticky – stuck to his throat. “I’m gonna try ‘n put it in.”

Your hands curl into the pillow as you nod your head – eyes still squeezed shut. It hadn't felt too bad so far – just weird. Embarrassing and… clinical. A bit like a doctor’s visit. But you knew that would all change now.

His hands glide across your back, catching your crop top in balled fists, stretching it as his tip works on stretching out your opening – nudging against it, coaxing it into accepting the head.

“Fuh- oh fuck~” He moans, lost to the sight and feel of your butt seizing around him – closing up around his tip.

You look so fucking perfect like that – face-down and kneeling with your ass pressed back against him – giving him your second virginity.

His eyes flitter across the slope of your spine – looking over your creamy skin, looking so pretty, all glossy with dew, until he reaches your face. Your brows are pinched together, gnawing on your bottom lip, eyes shut tightly.

“Are you okay?” He pants.

You nod your head – curt and rushed.

He suppresses a sound – feeling even more heated. You’re so perfect, so good to him – the best girlfriend he could have ever asked for. Trusting him like this, letting him do this even when you’re so nervous about it. You must really love him.

He’s nearly crying, holding onto your hips as he fucks you with just the tip – loosening the rim up and going just a little deeper for every shallow thrust. He nearly barrels over, standing there with his back hunched – bowing his head, looking at where the two of you connect while sweat drips from his weighted bangs.

“I love you, too.” He confesses out of the blue, and you blink, looking back at him – seeing his mouth parted with blissful moans, his eyes wet, and brows softly curled. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect fo’me – so good.”

He loves you so much he can barely take the blossoming in his chest, feeling like he wants to eat you up and swallow you whole. His girl – who laughs at all his silly jokes and holds his hand everywhere you go and doesn’t tease him when he yelps and holds you close during horror movies. His perfect perky girlfriend – who lets him fuck you raw and cum inside, and now… even letting him fuck your tight round ass for the very first time.

He's almost all the way in now – just a few more thrusts, and you’ll have him swallowed down to the base with his balls pressed firmly against the puffy lips of your wet pussy.

“Fuh-uuck-” He breathes out again, gripping your hips tight as he bottoms out.

He nearly cums right then, having to bite his lip to hold back – savoring how you ripple and squeeze him – so tight and firm.

You’re such a good girl taking him so well and so deep, lying so sweetly beneath him with your ass presented – letting him nestle his entire length inside you. Curling your toes all cutely as you adjust with only pretty girly mews leaving you.

You didn’t expect him to mount you.

But he does. Now standing with his feet in the bed, squatting over you with his cock sinking balls deep in your ass. Freshly broken-in, it’s tight and firm and twitchy as though it’s confused as to why there's a big fat cock stretching it out.

He can’t help but smile, perched on top of you – hands still hooked upon your hips for balance while he leans forward, settling even deeper.

You moan, and it nearly drives him wild. Barely holding himself together as he pulls out – wishing he had something to bite into instead of his lip as he focuses on the way your firm walls clench on him, clinging to his shaft so tightly it’s hard pulling out despite the wetness – it’s so good he’s losing it.

He’s taking his perfect girlfriend in her perfect ass. And it feels so fucking good his hands leave their grip on your hips as he slugs forward, bending over you until his chest presses into your back, and his head rests on top of yours, cheek to cheek – slinging both arms around you, putting you in a headlock – leaving you to do nothing else but pant, squished between his biceps and his cock kisses your guts.

“Can’t believe I'm fucking your little ass, baby.” He rants breathlessly. “It's so tight and good, gripping me so fuckin’ hard.” Huffing and groaning with his back hunched as he curves into your butt as deep as he can – stuffing into you from behind slowly and carefully as though he’s savoring every single flutter of you hugging him.

He’s barely even pulling out – kneading as far as his cock can reach instead – cock-warming himself inside you.

“Fuck, baby – I can cum inside, right?” He whimpers against you, kissing the corner of your mouth with his tongue out.

You’re so squished beneath him you can only just wheeze out the word. “O-okay-”

“Oh- fuck, I love you.” He cries when he blows, squeezing you so tight you’re choking as he pumps pulse after pulse of thick hot cum deep inside you. “I love you, I love you- love you- love you so much- so fuckin’ much-”

And you don’t know if it’s the confession, the headlock, or the cum being pumped up your guts – but your clit’s pulsing and your cunt’s twitching even though it’s around nothing, gushing down your shaking thighs as your butt pushes itself flush against your boyfriend’s cock, clenching hard around it and milking him free of every drop.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Shoto, Denki, Kirishima, Shigaraki, Touya-Dabi, Hawks, Natsuo, Mirio ♡ JJK – Gojo, Yuji, Yuuta, Choso ♡ HQ – Kuro, Bokuto, Miya twins ♡ AOT – Armin ♡ DS – Zenitsu ♡ WB – Sakura, Nirei, Umemiya

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

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cregansdingdong · 4 months ago

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imagine cregan and y/n breaking the bed one night just because of his sheer strength and muscle whilst pounding her, ik the conversation with the winterfell wood crafter would be awks as hell afterwards whilst asking for it to be repaired 😇😇

IM HAVING A PROPHETIC VISION, ANON.

At this point, Cregan and his boo thang are just going to have to become familiar with the man. There is no other option, because your choices are either to have this embarrassing conversation a multitude of times with multiple woodcrafters or just one. Because if y'all think this is a one-time thing, you are terribly mistaken.

Cregan is a very passionate person in bed, regardless if he's on top or not. He wants to make sure the two of you are satiated—that does mean the bed will snap like a twig under a boot i dont make the rules i just work here. Personally, I find the actual deliverance of the bedframe to be the most mortifying. Firstly, that big ass broken bed has to be dismantled and removed, if it's not fixable, which takes manpower, and then the new one brought into the Great Keep and put together. Otherwise, the woodcrafter is going to have to make a house call and show up with his tools and planks, walking toward your marital chambers which is embarrassing too :)

ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ. (thoughts ver.)

NSFW stuff under the cut. 18+ only. I'm not responsible for the content you choose to consume. ty.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

That familiar groan under his weight should've been the first warning sign, but Cregan was too distracted to notice. He was lapping at her pretty cunt, tongue delving as deep as he could go and as thorough as he could be without the motions being too unsteady. Alright maybe he did notice initially, but the thought was very quickly shoved to the back of his mind—especially when his pretty wife was trying to rock herself onto his nose, letting out the most quiet of whimpers muffled by their sheets. His ears were focused on her and her only.

With her pearl rubbing against his bridge and his cock feeling so strained in his trousers, no one could really blame him for forgetting about the delicate state of the bed in an instant. Last time they’d gotten particularly frantic in their lovemaking, there had been a low snap somewhere beneath the mattress, a taunt that he was probably too hefty to be moving so much. But winter was coming, a man’s gotta eat…in more ways than one.

By the time he’d recalled they should begin to take it easy on the bed, he was already balls deep behind her, hands gripping the flesh of her ass like a lifeline. He was suffocating in the best way, cock nestled inside, fogging his brain with nothing but instinct. And then she started begging. By then, well, he decided they needed a new bed anyway—six moons wasn’t too bad. Lasted longer than the previous replacement. Three harsh, unrelenting spanks bloom red on her backside as she squeezes around him, sending his blood pumping to the beat of an imaginary war drum. It would be a miracle from the Gods if she wasn’t pregnant by mid-summer. Cregan just couldn’t help himself.

Rutting against her like a man starved, the right side of the bed almost completely collapses, caving in and nearly throwing him off balance. His wife gasped, pleasure momentarily halted as she looked back at him. “Again? Seriously? I told you to write to him last time, did you?” The answer was no, no he did not. “It might have…slipped…my mind.” He murmured, trying to ignore the throbbing in his full balls. They had a silent conversation of glares and a sheepish grin. Then she concedes. “...We might as well finish then. I doubt it can get any worse.”

It could, actually. And it did. He came hard some twenty minutes later, pounding their hips together with a steady desperation. The dip of the broken side was a little annoying, but manageable. Without the support, the right beams of the canopy end up falling right down. No one was harmed, of course. It was only drapes. Cregan found it almost comical but his wife did not. It was going to be a long letter.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

#dingdonganswers #hotd #house of the dragon #cregan stark imagine #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #cregan x reader #cregan stark x female reader #cregan stark fanfic #cregan stark smut

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sweeturavity · 6 days ago

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Hay! Heh, I am a fan about your post, and i was wondering if you can do a bakugou x y/n post where they are 25 and have a 6 year old son named kanji that looks and acts like bakugou, and they are at a grocery store and kanji sees a toy and makes a BIG tantrum embarrassing Y/n, and bakugou let's out his strict father side, aka bakugou is 1 hero, so... yeah.... rich.. THANK YOU 😭

𝓒𝐎𝐏𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄

you loved your husband dearly—even though his attitude sometimes felt like wrangling a feral cat, you couldn’t imagine your life without him. katsuki was a great husband and an even better father. somehow, he managed to juggle being the number one hero, a title that came with endless demands, while still making time for you and your little family.

and then there was kanji. your six-year-old son who was, quite frankly, a miniature katsuki in every sense. the same fiery attitude, the unshakable stubbornness, the sass that could cut sharper than any blade. even the way he’d glare at people—it was uncanny. sometimes you’d swear you were looking at a younger version of your husband.

it wasn’t just his personality, either. kanji’s wild blond hair, sharp crimson eyes, and even the way he crossed his arms when he was annoyed? all bakugou. it was as if the universe had taken katsuki and hit the copy-paste button without consulting you first. you couldn’t help but feel a little robbed—after all, you were the one who carried him for nine months, dealt with the swollen feet, the cravings, the mood swings. and yet, kanji turned out to be a walking, talking katsuki replica.

but honestly? you didn’t really mind. even when kanji’s temper flared, or when he mimicked his dad’s bossy tone, it made your heart warm. because as much as katsuki’s attitude could be a challenge, you loved everything about him. and seeing those same traits in kanji, no matter how chaotic they made your days, was a reminder of the love the two of you had built.

you always knew how much your son looked up to his father—it was written all over kanji’s face. every little thing katsuki did, kanji wanted to do, too. he’d follow katsuki around the house, mimicking his movements, copying the way he crossed his arms or the gruff way he’d say, ‘tch’. kanji’s biggest dream, even at six years old, was to be the number one hero, just like his dad. and katsuki? oh, he ate that up.

“when you’re older, kid, i’ll show ya all the tricks.” katsuki would say, ruffling kanji’s already messy blond hair. “i’ll make sure you’re better than all those extras out there.” kanji’s eyes would light up every time, and the two of them would launch into some over-the-top conversation about training regimens and hero rankings. their bond was undeniable, built on the same fiery ambition and drive that katsuki had passed down to him.

but with that bond came the attitude. katsuki’s attitude. and you swore sometimes it was your curse to deal with two versions of the same fiery temper under one roof. kanji had inherited more than just katsuki’s looks—he had the same sharp tongue, the same unrelenting sass, and the same way of glaring at you like you were personally ruining his day when he didn’t get his way.

you loved your son to pieces, but oh, how your patience was tested.

you swore sometimes you could feel your eye twitch when your six-year-old son had the audacity to sass you. “kanji, clean up your toys.” you’d say, only to be met with an exasperated; “ugh, fine, mom. i’ll do it later, jeez!” complete with an eye roll so dramatic it could win awards.

“watch your tone, kanji.” you’d warn, and from the next room, katsuki would shout, “oi, don’t be talkin’ to your mom like that, you little brat!” and yet, you’d catch him stifling a laugh when kanji wasn’t looking, because deep down, katsuki knew exactly where the kid got it from.

there were days you swore you were outnumbered—two bakugous against one you—but deep down, you couldn’t help but love it. kanji’s sass, as frustrating as it could be, was just another reminder of the fiery, headstrong family you’d built. even if it meant you’d occasionally lose an argument to a six-year-old.

and that’s how you ended up in this situation. you were just trying to get through the grocery trip without any chaos. that was the goal. in and out—grab the essentials and avoid anything that might set off your six-year-old son, kanji. but, of course, life had other plans.

everything had been going smoothly until you turned down the toy aisle, rookie mistake. kanji’s sharp gaze zeroed in on a display of action figures, specifically a limited-edition hero toy that looked suspiciously like dynamight himself. his tiny hand grabbed your sleeve, tugging with determination.

“mom! mom! look! it’s dad’s toy! i need it!”

you gave him a soft smile, crouching down to his level. “kanji, we’re not getting toys today, baby. we’re just here for groceries. you already have tons of toys at home.”

big mistake.

his bottom lip jutted out, his eyes narrowing in frustration. “but i don’t have this one!”

before you could reason with him, he dropped to the floor in a dramatic fashion, kicking his legs and letting out an ear-piercing wail that had heads turning from all directions. your cheeks burned as you tried to calm him, murmuring soft words that fell on deaf ears.

“kanji, stop this right now.” you whispered, glancing around at the growing number of onlookers. “you’re making a scene.”

“i don’t care!” he shouted back, tears streaming down his cheeks. “i want it!”

just as you were about to give up and let the earth swallow you whole, a familiar voice cut through the chaos like a whip.

“kanji.”

you didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. katsuki’s voice was low and sharp, the kind that made grown adults flinch—and it had your son freezing mid-tantrum.

before you could say anything else, katsuki—who’d been a few steps behind grabbing something off the shelf—appeared, his towering figure and unmistakable presence shutting down the entire aisle’s noise. his crimson eyes narrowed as he looked at kanji.

“oi, brat. knock it off.” he barked, his voice low and firm, the same tone he used as pro hero dynamight when things got serious. kanji’s sobs faltered for a moment, but he looked up at his dad with that same fiery determination katsuki himself had mastered.

“but daddy! i need it!” kanji tried, sniffling dramatically.

“you don’t need it.” katsuki shot back, crossing his arms over his chest. “what you need is to listen to your mom and stop actin’ like a damn spoiled kid.”

kanji’s bottom lip quivered. “but—”

“no buts.” katsuki interrupted, crouching down to kanji’s level. his tone softened just slightly, though his eyes stayed sharp. “you think screamin’ and cryin’ is gonna get you what you want? not a chance. that ain’t how it works. you don’t get somethin’ just ‘cause you throw a fit. you gotta earn it, got it?”

kanji blinked up at him, his tears slowing as the weight of his dad’s words sank in. he mumbled something incoherent, and katsuki tilted his head.

“what was that?”

“got it.” kanji said more clearly, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

“good.” bakugou said, ruffling the boy’s spiky blonde hair before standing back up. he glanced at you, his expression softening slightly. “you okay, mama?”

“yeah.” you muttered, still feeling the lingering embarrassment from the scene. “thanks for stepping in.”

he smirked, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your temple. “you’ve been dealin’ with his crap all day, huh?”

“you have no idea.”

bakugou glanced back at kanji, who was now holding onto your leg, looking thoroughly chastised.“now quit the damn tears and help your mom with the list.” katsuki stood up and ruffled kanji’s messy blond hair, his version of an apology for being so harsh.

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. katsuki turned to you with a smirk, his tone lighter now. “what?”

“strict dad mode, huh?” you teased, trying not to laugh.

“damn right. kid’s gotta learn. can’t have him thinkin’ just ‘cause his old man’s dynamight he can get whatever he wants.”

later, as you loaded groceries into the car, you noticed katsuki handing a small bag to kanji, who lit up with excitement.

“you bought it for him anyway?” you asked, raising a brow.

katsuki shrugged, smirking. “don’t get used to it, kid.” he said to kanji. “this doesn’t mean you get what you want every time.”

kanji nodded enthusiastically, clutching the action figure like it was the greatest treasure in the world.

you rolled your eyes, a fond smile tugging at your lips. “strict dad, my ass.”

“hey.” katsuki shot back, pulling you closer. “i can be strict and still spoil my kid. he is a bakugou, after all.”

#this is so cute #sigh.. i need my man right NEOWW #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsukibakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki x you #mha bakugou #mha x reader

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redr0sewrites · 9 months ago

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Thoughts on Lute's tits? I wanna suck on them so baddd I bet they're perfect (WLW pls)

RAHSGSSGAGSGSSG????? feeling very sapphic today have i ever told u i love women

🥀Cw: fluff, smut, boobs, boob kink (?), fem!reader

🥀minors dni

lute never put much weight into her physical appearance, however she does have a wonderful body- she's both muscular and soft, with strong thighs, arms, and a toned stomache yet curvy hips and chest

once she starts dating you, she begins to notice how much you really enjoy her chest, and honestly it flusters her a little, she isn't used to receiving so much attention and she is more than a little touch starved

lute would never admit it but she loves when you lay your head on top of her chest, and when you fall asleep with your face pressed into her boobs? she always wakes up horny, she's probably very sensitive...

before you, lute probably did not get laid very often, hell, she doesn't even masturbate much, making her all the more sensitive once you guys began to get intimate

her boobs are definitely a big erogenous zone, and touching them is one of the quickest ways to turn her on

the first time you started touching her chest was during a heated makeout session, you were straddling her on your bed and you reached up under her shirt to grope her as she fisted a hand in your hair. she let out a sharp moan as you palmed her breast through her sports bra, her entire back arching as you massaged her hardened nipple

lute's entire face flushes with embarrassment at her own sensitivity, yet you find it so so hot. she's usually so uptight and serious, and the fact that she has such a sensitive weak spot only makes playing with her tits more appealing

LUTE IS A SPORTS BRA AND BOXERS LESBIAN AND IT IS SO. FUCKING. HOT. HGHHHHH

lute definitely walks around the house shirtless just to tease you because she knows how irresistible she is

loves when you suck on her tits, she might even have you call her mommy or mistress if you're especially desperate

loves fingering you while you suck on her boobs, the way you drool on her chest and your mind goes fuzzy while you suck on her nipple just from the way her fingers are fucking you? ughhh she eats it up and adores it every time

whenever you ride her strap or thigh, you always take off her shirt and bra to just watch her boobs. sometimes she'll grab you by the hair and force you to suck on them, and i also think she could be into you using a vibrator on her chest... 👀

sometimes when she's especially busy during work or just away from you in general, she'll randomly send you a picture of her perfect tits, or a video of her fucking herself on a dildo, with her tits bouncing perfectly for you to see

lute doesn't wear revealing clothing very often, but sometimes she'll take of her shirt when training leaving her in just a sports bra, and it's actually so hot to watch your girlfriend train, her perfect tits in view as she fights ruthlessly (you really are whipped huh- i cant blame you i am too)

lute will ask you to ride her abs, and then practically beg you to grope her tits while you grind your pretty, aching pussy over her toned stomach

lute loves when you both are scissoring and your chests rub together, she just loves feeling your bare skin against hers

she also enjoys it when you mark her boobs, lute will pretend to be irritated but will secretly admire the hickies on her chest and occasionally take pictures of them to look at later- she loves the idea that you left behind any sort of mark on her, and will absolutely return the favor

when it comes to your boobs lute is a closeted perv, she loooveeesss when you wear low cut tops or lacy lingerie that shows off your assets. whether you have big boobs or small boobs she does not care, she will show your chest unrelenting attention all the same

lute will come up behind you and grope your chest in public, only for a split second so no one notices, and then act innocent when you turn on her

if you have big boobs lute will literally get so turned on when she sees you in something revealing, im talking full gay panic mode as she struggles to look anywhere BUT your chest.

if you have smaller boobs, no worries! lute loves when you don't wear a bra underneath a tighter shirt so she can watch your nipples harden when she teased you, and having smaller boobs only makes it that much more convenient for her to tear off your shirt and play with your breasts

lute loves when you wear necklaces she bought you while you both fuck, and seeing the charm rest between the valley of your breasts makes her a bit feral

lute likes taking photos of your boobs while you both are fucking for her to jack off to later, and definitely has an album in her phone dedicated to pictures of your perfect tits in lacy lingerie, or covered in her bitemarks

"fuck, lute, y'really are perfect," you murmur, pressing soft kisses to her neck. lute doesn't reply, opting to turn her head away from you as her cheeks flush. your onslaught of kisses travels lower down to her collarbone, where you begin to suck a hickey into her pale skin. lute shivers at the sensation of your tongue sucking on her skin, one hand coming to rest on your hips while the other tangles itself in your hair. your lips travel lower, down between the valley of her breasts, only to pause as she lets out a soft whine. your mouth latches onto one nipple, sucking on the hardened bud while you toy with her other breast.

"fuuuck- that feels good," lute gasps, her grip on your hair tightening as you let out a stifled moan. her thigh slips between your legs, pressing up against your aching heat. you let out a soft whine, unable to stop yourself from grinding down against her thigh. lute smirks, her free hand gripping the sheets as you continue pleasuring her chest. your teeth graze over her nipple and she lets out a soft moan, watching as your tongue swirls over the bud. your hips begin to move faster as the ache in your core only grows more unbearable. lute watches a small trail of drool leak from your mouth as you mewl, keening from the pleasure between your legs.

lute's back arches as your legs clamp down around her thigh, the coil in your abdomen snapping as your orgasm washes over you. as you come down from your high, you collapse against her chest, and lute smirks. "aw, don't tell me you're too tired to continue, i'm just getting started baby!" you shoot lute a glare, and she snickers in response. "oh please," you murmur, pinching one of her nipples in between two fingers, watching as a wanton moan slips past her lips as she squirms. "i'm not done yet ~"

sorry the smut is mid i am sleepy and i didnt want it to get too long 🫠 ANYWAYSSSS HOPE U ENJOYED!!! I LOVE LUTE RAHHH

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lesservillain · 11 months ago

Text

alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader

cw: omegaverse, soul bonding, scenting, knotting, unprotected piv, breeding, semi public sex, pregnancy

an: part of the school days universe.

Five days.

It’s only been five days since you started your newest substitute teaching job at Hawkins High School.

Well, scratch that. It’s only second period, so you can really only say it’s been four days, barely 9 am even, but it’s already been just as hellish as the rest of the week.

Monday started with you not being able to find a parking spot, having to park down the road and run into class. Turns out you were trying to park in student parking and weren’t aware of the back lot for the teachers to park in.

Tuesday you dumped your coffee that you waited way too long in line for all over your notes from the teacher you were subbing for. Thankfully it was only the current week's curriculum and you were able to decipher the notes enough to get the gist of what you needed to be doing, but it was still a pain in the ass.

Wednesday your tire went flat on the way to work. Thankfully one of the other teachers, Mr.Harrington, just happened to be driving by and gave you a ride the rest of the way. You were able to call a tow truck to take your car to a nearby body shop that you walked to after work. You’re pretty sure the guy overcharged you for the tire but you were too exhausted to argue.

Thursday, oh Thursday, your students in your second period class decided that they weren’t going to take you seriously, making rude noises and disrupting class with unrelated questions, and randomly scenting just to get under your skin. This period was heavy with new alphas, and if you hadn’t been warned ahead of time, you could tell by the way they all behaved. The teacher you were subbing for was able to reign them all in somehow, but you were struggling with getting them to listen to anything you had to say.

So, naturally, this would be the class that would see your Friday turn into the worst day of the week so far.

There was only 10 minutes left in the class. There had been some rowdiness, but not nearly as bad as the day before. You were so close to moving on to your easier classes of the day when a water pipe decided to burst directly above you, breaking the ceiling tile and completely drenching you in cold water.

Everything was still for a single beat, until the silence was cut by the boisterous laughter of the 22 seniors who watched the incident happen in real time. After the initial shock, you yelled at them to be quiet, more stern than you’ve ever been in your life, and told them to read the chapter on their own while you called the office.

As you turned to go to your desk, you caught your reflection in the window and were instantly reminded that you were wearing a white shirt today, the deep magenta of your bra very visible now due to the state of your top.

Embarrassment is one thing, but when you remember the morning you had, it just pisses you off more than anything. You had initially put on a blue top when you woke up this morning, but, on top of everything else you were dealing with this week, you were also having to take care of your fiance, Dave, during his rut as well, which was a job all on its own.

He insisted that he wouldn’t be able to wait for you to get home with the pain he was in, so you let him get in a quickie while you were brushing your teeth. He also refused to wear a condom, telling you the pain would subside for longer if he could feel you. But, you weren’t falling for his tricks, and as soon as you felt his knot starting to swell you pulled away from him, ending up with his spend all over the back of your shirt.

Which led you to now, where you sit at your desk with your head down and your arms crossed over your chest trying to hold back tears as you wait for the maintenance guy to come look at the ceiling. You could hear the snickering and teasing whispers from your students but were too defeated to tell them to do their work. Only when you got a faint smell of cinnamon spice and warm smoke did you finally speak up.

“Whoever is scenting right now, knock it off before I write you up.”

Low murmuring and a voice quietly saying “it wasn’t me” to another student's accusation were the only response you received. But the smell only got stronger.

Stronger to the point where you felt your body shiver for a moment. It made your body heat up in a way you haven’t felt in a while, your thighs rubbing together subtly under your desk.

You lifted your head to yell at your students again, but was interrupted by a knock on the classroom door before you could speak. The scent was so strong now that there was no way it was from an immature alpha. that you felt dizzy when you turned your head to see who was entering your classroom.

As your vision settled on the figure before you, you felt like your breath had been knocked out of you. A tall man with beautiful curly brown hair and big, brown eyes took a few steps into the classroom. He was silent, gawking at you in the same way you must be looking at him.

“H-hi, I’m Eddie,” he stuttered, being the first to speak once the giggling from the students brought him back to reality. When you hear his name for the first time, you swear you can hear bells ringing in the distance.

“I’m here to check your pipes.” Another round of laughter fills the room, causing you to run your hands over your face and down to the back of your neck.

“Guys, please—”

“That’s enough.”

The scent surrounding you peaks as a weight falls over the room. The students fall silent, but your head reels as you feel your body heat up. It felt like the beginning of your heat, but it was nowhere close to being due thanks to your suppressants.

After a beat, the tension was interrupted by the sound of the bell. And just as quickly as it came, the thick hold on the room was gone. Your students quickly grabbed their things and exited the room without a word.

You fan yourself as you feel the fever begin to dissipate. Eddie walks over to your side, concern sewed into his features as his eyes searched your face.

“Are you okay? I didn’t think I had scented so strongly…”

“Gosh, yes, I’m sorry,” you say, shaking your head to get back into your professional mindset. “I’m fine, just a little stressed.” You introduce yourself to him, extending a hand to him out of habit. You see his eyes go wide before darting to the side, his cheeks tinted pink.

You suddenly remember the state of your attire and quickly curl into yourself again, spewing apologies in an attempt to save any respect that he may have for you.

“Hey, it’s cool,” he laughs your embarrassment off, eyes still on anything other than you. “Do you, uh, want something to wear over that?” He’s pointing over his shoulder, taking a few steps back towards the door. Before you can really respond, he’s gone, almost running into a group of students as they begin to fill your class for the next period.

As your third period class enters, you tell the students to take their seats until you can figure out how class is going to go. A few minutes later, Eddie returns with his hands full and pushes a mop bucket into the room. He places a wet floor sign in the middle of the room to free his hands before he’s handing you a black sweater. You thank him quietly when you take it, vision drawn to the chunky silver rings on his…really thick fingers.

You pull the sweater over your head and are immediately dizzy with the strong smell from before, mixed with a faint smell of cigarettes and sweat in the collar. The well worn sweater with frayed cuffs was soft and warm, the Metallica logo in dark gray letters displayed across the front covers your shame, allowing you to finally leave your desk.

As you rise to your feet, you catch the way Eddie is staring at you out of the corner of your eye. Was he thinking about your wet shirt under his sweater? Why do you hope that he is?

“Thank you,” you say, subconsciously pulling the fabric to your nose for a moment. Eddie stares at you for a moment, sucking in a deep breath of air before nodding wordlessly.

“Yeah, no, uh, no problem,” he murmurs, breathing out with a huff, a small smile tugging on his lips. The second bell rings to signal the start of the next period, making Eddie jump and look around. “Oh, yeah, um, when is your free period?”

“Not until fifth period.”

“Okay,” he says, bouncing his head as he looks at the water still puddled on the floor. “Do you want me to mop this up now, or do it when I come back? I don’t want to interrupt your class.”

“That’s okay,” you say with a wave of the hand, “My next two classes are taking a test today. So as long as you’re not giving them any answers, you won’t be a problem.”

Eddie nods and gets to work, doing his best to stay out of your way while you get through your two classes. You do your best not to let yourself be distracted by him, keeping busy with grading papers and prepping your chalkboard for your last classes of the day. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t take little glances at him as he worked. Maybe you noticed the way the sleeves of his shirt hugged his biceps when he carried his ladder in between classes. Maybe you let yourself indulge in the flash of his toned stomach when he lifted his shirt briefly to wipe his brow. Maybe you stared at his ass while he picked up the broken ceiling tile pieces off the floor.

In the back of your mind you knew you shouldn’t be looking, especially when you have a fiance waiting for you back home. You’re not even the type of person to ogle someone the way you are right now.

But something about Eddie’s presence was making you feel…different. Domestic. Like there was a misplaced pride in his ability to do his own job. You wanted to praise him for being a big strong alpha—your big strong alpha.

One of your students hesitates at your desk as she drops off her test, pulling you out of your fantasy. She’s one of the more quiet students, so you ask her if she needs anything as she continues to hover next to you.

“Um,” she pauses for a moment, looking over at Eddie just as he walks out of the room. She says your name quietly, leaning in a bit to whisper, “Are you and Mr.Eddie dating?”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth to suppress the laugh that naturally pulled from your chest at the question.

“No, we are not,” you answer. You tilt your head inquisitively, “Why do you ask?”

“Because you’re wearing his sweater. Usually people wear their boyfriends sweaters when they’re dating…”she comments as she points at the offending garment.

You smile at her, “I’m just borrowing it. I’ll be giving it back at the end of the day.”

She’s quiet for a moment, and you think that maybe the answer was enough for her. But she leans in to whisper again, “But why has he been staring at you all of class?”

A warm feeling washes over your chest at her words. Has he been keeping an eye on you? How did you not notice? Was he just keeping an eye on you or was he checking you out?

Before you could answer her, Eddie walks back into the room and your student hurriedly made her way back to her desk. You can’t help but watch him as he adjusts the tool belt that sets on his hips, a screwdriver being held between his lips as he does. As he grabs it from his mouth, you catch him looking at you for the first time. You wait for him to shy away like he did before, but instead he winks at you—fucking winks at you, before making his way back up the ladder.

The butterflies you felt in your tummy make you feel like a teen again. You don’t even know who you are right now. Have you just been so miserable in your current relationship for so long that you’re just happy to have another alpha’s attention? That can’t be, because you hate the attention that other alphas give you when you’re out on your own.

You’re not sure what it is, but as your classes end and your free period rolls in, you ask him if he wants to eat his lunch with you, giddy when he agrees.

“Is that seriously all you’re eating?”

Eddie pulled his ladder up to your desk and sat on one of the steps with a single large can of snack pretzels in one hand and a can of off brand cola in the other. He looks at you like a deer caught in the headlights as you scold him for not bringing more to eat.

“Here,” you hand him a container of some leftover mac and cheese you made from the night before, “eat this please. I think I have a granola bar in my bag, too.”

“Woah, there, sweetheart,” he laughs as you start rifling through your bag. “I don’t need you to feed me. This has been my lunch since I was in middle school, so I’m set.”

You frown at him, not satisfied with the lackluster lunch he wanted to partake in. “What if I made you a lunch? Would you eat it?”

The rosy tint dusts his cheeks once again. A toothy grin spreads across his face as he gives you a shy side eye.

“I mean, I wouldn’t want your food to go to waste, but you really don’t have to worry about me.”

Wrong. The more you’re around him, the more you feel like you need to dote on him. You want to touch him, put your head on his shoulder, hold his hand. You want to go home with him and cook him dinner and wash his hair and have him hold you while the two of you sleep side by side in your shared bed. Every sweet word he says to you pulls you in like a fly to honey.

And when your hand accidentally brushes his, you both take in a deep breath at the same time, and you know he felt the same surge through his body as you. His gaze meets yours, chests raising and falling in anticipation as the two of you wait for the other to say something—do something.

But something doesn’t come, because the bell ringing once again makes the both of you jump, not realizing how close the two of you had gotten. Eddie jumps up from his seat on the ladder, grabbing his pitiful lunch and booking it out the door.

His sudden absence makes you sad, missing him more than you reasonably should. And as you sit alone, with the shuffling of feet outside your classroom creating a white noise that lets you slip into your mind, you can’t help but think about your life with David.

He’s supposed to be your alpha. The one you’ve been with since high school since you both presented around the same time. He’s the only person you’ve ever been with, never really desiring anyone else but him before. He works a good job, bought a house for the both of you, and wants to have a family with you, the latter being the only thing the two of you never agreed on, not wanting kids despite the natural instincts of your second gender.

But, as you think about the man you laid eyes on this morning, who has made you feel more in the 4 total hours that you’ve known him than you’ve felt in the last decade with David, you think you’d give everything you have up to be with him. It scares the shit out of you to feel that way. It’s as if something has taken over your brain and completely rewired it to be all about Eddie.

Maybe the afternoon away from him would give you time to clear your head. Putting all your mental effort into your remaining senior classes, you manage to keep your mind occupied for the most part. You swear that you can smell his scent every once in a while, but convince yourself that you’re just imagining it.

As the final bell rings for the day, you plop down in your chair and just let yourself decompress. You begin to think maybe this job was something that was more than you’d be able to handle, that you’d bitten off more than you could chew. You’d been subbing for a year now, but this was the first time you’d ever been this overwhelmed after just a week. You could always go and talk to the principal now and let them know you wouldn’t be back on Monday. Someone else could deal with—

Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. You roll your head to the side to find Eddie in your classroom's doorway once again.

“Come to finish the job?” You ask tiredly.

“That’s one of the things I’m here for,” Eddie says with a nervous chuckle.

He takes long strides to your side, his hands in his pockets as his feet shuffle beneath him.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just…I just wanted to know if, maybe, you’d like to go out with me sometime?”

You’re completely caught off guard by his request. A warmth blooms in your chest before promptly sinking into your stomach, forming into a solid rock of guilt and confusion.

“I…I’m sorry Eddie, I can’t.” You should probably put more effort into sounding sincere rather than disappointed. But your heart was truly distraught at having to turn him down.

“Oh, yeah, no, it’s cool,” he stutters, trying to play it cool as he takes in your rejection. “I didn’t mean to—I mean, I just, um, I just thought we had some chemistry or something…”

“Well, you wouldn’t be the only one who thought that. But, I have a boyfriend— a fiance, rather, and I—”

“Hey, it’s cool, I understand,” he waves you off as he takes hurried steps backwards towards the door. “Just forget I asked. Um, I’ll see you around I guess.” He gives you a weak smile before backing out of the classroom and into the hall again.

“Yeah, see you around,” you mutter to yourself.

Before you could even fully turn the lock on your front door it was being yanked open, David standing on the other side of the door panting like he had just run a marathon. Without warning, he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you inside of your shared home and something immediately feels off.

The first thing you notice as you cross the threshold is that you can’t smell anything. The house has smelled like nothing but David’s musk since his rut started on Sunday, but now it just smells like your normal house. It doesn’t make sense, because he’s clearly going through it just as he was this morning.

David’s nose scrunches when he finally gets close to you, almost immediately stumbling back against the wall to get as far away from you as possible.

“What the fuck?” He scowls, looking you up and down with wild eyes. “What the hell are you wearing?”

Oh fuck.

You were still wearing Eddie’s sweater.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you say as you scramble to pull the sweater off, sneaking one last inhale as it lifts over your head. “I had an incident at school and one of my coworkers let me borrow his sweater.”

“You took clothes from another alpha?” David’s voice was uncharacteristically stern, likely from the adrenaline of his rut. He’d never been an angry man, even with his natural alpha tendencies, but the way he was looking at you right now made you feel real fear.

“I needed something to cover myself—“

“You fucking reek,” he says hand flying over his nose to shield himself from the lingering smell of Eddie.

The fear quickly turns into annoyance at his insult. You weren’t about to deal with this attitude he was giving you, so you rolled your eyes and pushed past him, making your way straight to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

After taking your sweet time to wash away the stress of the day, you emerge from the bathroom feeling refreshed. You’re surprised to see David sitting on the edge of the bed, face buried in his hands only to run them through his hair as you enter the bedroom.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing he blurts out, “I shouldn’t have acted like that.” You can tell he’s being genuine, and you can’t help but feel bad yourself. “I just, with the rut and everything, it makes me feel like the hulk when any little thing sets me off. And I’ve been feeling like shit all day while you were gone, so when you came home smelling like another alpha…”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” you coo as you take his face in your hands, the warmth of his fever hot against your palms. “I didn’t think about how it would have bothered you. I was going to give him the sweater back at the end of the day but—“

Thoughts of your day spent with Eddie floods back into your mind. The way that his presence made you feel whole, like a part of you that was missing all these years had appeared right in front of you and changed how you think about everything. It makes you realize that the sympathy you’re having for your fiance right now isn’t out of love, or guilt that you may have betrayed him.

Rather, you feel as if you’re tending to a child that’s fallen on the playground. It’s nothing more than your natural instinct to nurture, to protect. Even more so, you realize it’s not love.

“But…something came up and he left before I could give it back.”

He nods his head in your hands, letting out a small okay. You feel him pull at your hips, bringing you closer for him to rest his head on your stomach. You run your nails over his scalp, and he lets out little muffled moans against your towel in response.

When he looks up at you, his pupils fully dilated and filled with hunger, you let him pull your towel from your body to gather around your feet on the floor.

Your back hits the mattress and David is on you moments later. His kisses are soft, his gentle hands touching over all the right places that he’s grown to learn over the years of your relationship.

He’s doing everything right, and yet you can’t help the nauseating feeling that curdles in your stomach with each passing second. Everything feels wrong. His touch is like poison, and your body is screaming at you to get as far away from him as possible. But you fight it down in hopes that this feeling will go away.

It’s only when he aligns himself with your entrance that the feeling becomes too much. You pull away from him as quickly as you can and book it straight to the bathroom to empty your stomach contents into the toilet.

The bell rings out just as you finish up with your fourth period class.

“Don’t forget your first drafts are due at the beginning of class tomorrow!” You call out as the students collect their things and make their way to the halls.

The loud rumbling in your stomach has you quickly taking your seat at your desk, opening the bottom drawer to pull out your lunch. Over the last month you’d come to understand that eating in your classroom was the best option for your sanity, because if any time you left the safety of your room, you were immediately overwhelmed by the scent of Eddie.

The two of you had barely talked since you turned him down. You kept trying to return his sweater to him, but it seemed like he was actively avoiding you, even if his scent lingered on everything he touched in the whole school.

You felt bad that things had become awkward between the two of you. There was nothing you wanted more than to talk to him. You missed him in a way that you still don’t understand.

“Hey, there’s cupcakes in the break room if you want one.” Steve’s voice pulls you from your sulking. The mention of sweets has your ears perked.

“Oooooooh, really? What’s the occasion?” You ask as you rise from your seat, excitedly meeting him at the door to walk with him.

“Teacher appreciation week,” he says with air quotes. You both roll your eyes, just thankful to be getting something.

As you make your way to the break room, the two of you talk about your classes and what your plans are for spring break next week.

“We’re finishing up the baby’s room,” he says with glee when you ask. “We picked a really nice green color the other day when we were out. Did I even tell you about that whole ordeal? How we ran into her ex at the department store?”

“What? No! What happened?”

You welcomed the distraction of Steve’s story as it helped keep your mind off of Eddie. After a month you’d thought that it wouldn’t be so strong, or that maybe you’d get used to it. But every passing day it seems like it gets worse.

Before you could follow Steve passed the threshold of the teachers lounge, Eddie’s scent becomes amplified to the point it stops you in your tracks.

“Woah, are you okay?” He asks, taking a step towards you. You hadn’t even realized that you’d stopped moving, your arm outstretched against the wall to steady yourself.

“Y—yeah I…” You feel yourself sway, a sweat breaking out as your body temperature begins to creep higher. “It’s probably just a hot flash or something,” you say as you fan yourself with your hand, “Had to switch my suppressants recently and they said that feeling hot could be a side effect.”

“Shit, let me get you some water or something—”

“Move.”

Before you can process what’s happening, you feel your body being lifted off your feet. When you look up to see who has swept you off your feet, you’re both surprised and relieved to be matching the gaze of two beautiful brown eyes, pupils blown out and almost swallowing their irises whole. You wrap your arms around Eddie’s neck instinctively, burying your face in his neck to inhale his scent. He shutters against you as you exhale into him.

You’re so overcome by his scent that you didn’t notice he had taken off with you until he’s shifting you in his grasp, holding you with one hand as he fumbles with his keys until he’s kicking open the door to…a closet?

He locks the door behind him and plops you down in a chair that sits in front of what you presume to be his desk. All around you are shelves of cleaning supplies, tools, and other random supplies that you’d not be surprised to be in possession of a custodian. On the wall behind the desk are a few band posters and a cork board littered with post it notes and work safety sheets.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Eddie’s frustrated statement grabs your attention as he stands in front of you, leaning back on the desk with a hand running through his hair.

“Are you, like, punishing me for asking you out? Were you so repulsed by me asking you that you’re punishing me by driving me insane?”

It takes a moment for your brain to properly dissect what he’s asking you, the statement so bewildering to you that you honestly think he’s joking at first. But the hurt look on his face has you shifting forward in your seat, practically on the edge as you look up at him.

“Eddie, no,” you plead with him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I wasn’t offended at all…I don’t understand how I’m punishing you either.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes before meeting yours, “You’re joking. You’re telling me you haven’t been scenting around the school to get me worked up? I swear I can still smell you in my clothes when I leave at the end of the day. I figured that since you and Steve have gotten all buddy-buddy that you knew he was mark bonded and wouldn’t be able to smell you, so you’d just been freely scenting to fuck with me for the last month.”

“What? If anyone has been free scenting it’s you! I try not to leave my classroom if I don’t have to because I can smell you everywhere. Every day I have to book it straight to my desk because it’s so strong it makes me dizzy!”

The two of you are quiet for a moment, both huffing after yelling at one another, you still feeling like you’re in a haze in such close proximity to him now. He curses under his breath as he stands, pacing back and forth in front of you as he thinks.

“You’re making me nervous,” you state as you watch him move in front of you.

He stalls, turning his whole body towards you but keeping his eyes down.

“I don’t understand,” he grits out, “I’m definitely not scenting, and you said you’re also not scenting, but I swear you’re the only thing that has any sort of effect on me anymore. The smell of my coffee in the morning isn’t as strong, the smell of the oil leaking from my van didn’t bother me when I fixed it. Hell, I cleaned up puke the other week and your scent made it easier to keep my own lunch down.”

“It’s the same for me…” He looks up at you. “All the smells, I’m going through the same thing…But something else has changed for me, too.” You think back over the events of the last month, “I don’t know why, but ever since that day…I can’t get you off of my mind. These little fantasies run through my head with everything I do. Like when I go to the store, I think about what foods you might like, or when I clean around the house I think about you coming home and telling me that I did a good job. Little things like that, that I never really even thought about with my ex. At least, not in the same way I think about you.”

“Ex?”

The tone of his voice has goosebumps running down your arms and legs. The room begins to feel heavy, similar to how it felt that day when he took control over the classroom. It felt like the air was being sucked out of your lungs and replaced with him. And every stride he took towards you felt like a bag of sand dropping on your back until you were struggling to look up at him as he moved in front of you, crouching down to eye level.

“What happened, sweetheart?” His voice is smooth like honey, pulling you in with his sweetness in a way that made you feel vulnerable. You couldn’t lie to him. Not Eddie.

“I couldn’t…he made me sick,” you start, “Every time we tried to…”

“Tried to what? Use your words.” The mix of his scent and the way he was talking to you was making the heat in your body travel straight to your core.

“Anytime we tried to have sex, I would get sick. Even if I wanted to—”

“Did you really want to, though?” His head tilts to the side as he questions you, “Or were you just trying and failing to get me out of your head?”

Your body sways, his words have you feeling dizzy because he’s right. All of a sudden your clothes felt too tight, and the room was too hot, and you just wanted those big, strong arms back on your body.

“Answer me.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, whenever I was with my ex, I wished it was you. But—but, not enough to make me sick. I don’t know why, it’s like my body was rejecting him.”

It’s silent besides your heavy breathing for a moment. Eddie stands once more, towering over you as he places his palm gently on your cheek. You instantly lean into his touch, humming in satisfaction as his leaves gentle caresses on your skin.

“I’m, uh, having the opposite problem,” he says with a hint of embarrassment. “I feel like I can’t…satisfy myself, but I’m constantly worked up whenever I think about you. Fucking my fist multiple times a day wishing it was your pussy instead.”

His thumb glides across your cheek, landing on your bottom lip and pulling it down before letting it snap back into place. Your lips part slightly in response, an open invitation for his thumb to push its way in, which he gladly accepts. He pushes it as far in as it can go, watching as you hollow your cheeks and suck on the digit before he pulls it out with a pop.

“F-f-f-f-fuuuck,” he breathes out through gritted teeth. He grips your cheeks, not too rough, but enough to make your lips pout as he tilts your head back to look up at him.

Eddie searches your face for any signs of discomfort, but is only met with the half lidded, fucked out look your giving him through your lashes, brain completely empty as you wait for him make his next move.

Fireworks erupt under your skin as his chapped lips crash into yours with enough force to push you back in your chair. Every cheesy rom-com that you’ve ever watched finally made sense as you felt the electricity light strike in your abdomen and back through every vein in your body. This was what you’d been waiting for in every other kiss that you’ve experienced in your life.

And, all at once, the sparks peak, before surging straight between your legs, a wave of slick gushing from you and soaking the seat below.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathes, looking at your lap with a pained expression. Meanwhile, your eyes are locked on the ever growing bulge in his work pants, drool pooling in your mouth as his blue jeans strain from the size of him.

He lunges towards you, mouth agape to meet with yours before the sound of the bell stops either of you in your tracks. You hear a crack next to your head that makes you jump. When you look you see that Eddie has cracked the wood of the chair with his bare hands, muscles and veins popping from the strain.

“Eddie—“

“Don’t go,” he begs, his voice low and gravely, “I can’t let you go again. I need you.”

He sounds so pathetic. All the still working parts of your brain start to go hazy at his groveling. He needs you. And you need him.

The shrill sound of the phone ringing on his desk pulls Eddie away from you with a huff. His eyes don't leave you as he picks up the receiver, growling “what” to whoever was on the other line.

As he listens, though, Eddie’s brows lift in surprise, followed by a Cheshire grin. “Consider us even then,” he says into the phone before he slams it back down.

“W-who was that?”

He lets out a chuckle. He sauntered over to you with a dark look in his eyes, leaning in until he’s barely an inch from your face.

“That was our good friend, Steve. He said he let the principal know you had to go home sick and got someone to cover your classes.”

Your breath hitched. Your mind was a whirl of everything Eddie you had almost forgotten that you still had classes to teach. You try to take a mental note to thank Steve later, hoping it doesn’t get lost in your mind.

“If that’s what you want, anyway. Could always go back to class—”

You surge forward, lips meeting his in a fevered kiss. “No, no,” you murmur against his lips, fingers tangling in his curls, “want you, Eddie. Don’t make me go back.”

What you don’t expect is to feel his hands grip you under the fat of your ass and lift you up from the chair. He turns the both of you around, using one hand to knock the things off of his desk before placing you on top of it with a squeak from you on impact, all the while his lips glued to yours.

His hands make quick work with the buttons on your blouse and he moves down your neck, leaving kisses and little bruises across your skin.

You feel him slotting between your legs, your pencil skirt riding up so his hard length could press against your clothed pussy. The denim of his jeans turn dark as slick continues to soak through your panties, your hips bucking against him as the familiar ache of your heat senses what you need only a few pieces of fabric away.

As soon as Eddie opens your blouse, he’s ripping the cups of your bra with a force that causes your whole body to move, making your tit bounce in recoil.

“Of course they’d be perfect,” he groans, pulling back, completely enamored at the sight of you before him. His big hands grab and kneads at the flesh, taking your nipples between his fingers and rolling them. Your back arches as the sensation, and the drag of your sensitive clit against the denim only makes you moan louder.

Eddie pushes himself into you more, reveling in the feeling of you grinding against him and soaking his leg. He takes a nipple into his mouth and sucks, letting his tongue swirl around it.

It’s all too much, your head spinning as everything seems amplified under his touch. Your hands scramble to grab the hem of his shirt, pulling the black polo and flimsily attempt to pull it off of him. You feel him grin against the skin of your breast before pulling off with a pop.

“Impatient, aren’t we?” Eddie asks as he pulls the shirt over his head, as if he isn’t using every ounce of self control to keep him from completely devouring you. He wants to sink his teeth into you and never let go, but he can’t scare you off, not when he’s finally got you exactly how he wants you.

Your mouth drops as his body is revealed to you. His slim, but built frame littered with tattoos you would never know he had unless you were to get him like this. Your eyes trail down his chest, his abdomen, all the way down to where his happy trail leads beneath his jeans. The urge to run your fingers through it takes over, your pointer and middle finger dragging from his belly button until they catch on his belt buckle, his stomach flexing under your touch.

You grab at his belt, pulling him towards you until you can get a good enough grip to undo it, pulling down his pants until they drop to the floor with a thud. The boxers that remain sport a very large tent in them, and you swear you can see him twitching under your gaze.

His head falls back as your hand gently glides over him, rubbing the fabric into his leaky tip more, expanding the wet patch that was already forming there. Eddie watches you bring your fingers to your mouth to taste the sticky mess that you collected, your body going boneless when it hits your tongue. It’s like nothing that’s ever graced your taste buds before, making your eyes roll back in your head as your body craves for more.

Watching the way you react to him is Eddie’s final straw. His vision tunnels, completely focused on you as the primal part of his brain takes control. Suddenly, he’s pushing you back down into the desk, manhandling you as he tears through your pantyhose, ripping your panties in half until your bare pussy is on display for him.

Ducking down without warning, he spreads your legs apart and runs his thick, long tongue through your sopping folds. He inhales your scent, the bulb of his nose bumping into your clit in a way that sends zings of pleasure throughout your body. The tip of his tongue pushes its way into your hole, the thick muscle reaching as far as it can to lap up your sweet nectar from the source. Your hands fly to the top of his head, gripping tightly in an attempt to anchor yourself to this plane of existence while your orgasm rips through you. His name falls from your lips over and over as your vision goes white, blinding you with pleasure.

When you come back to your body you feel his hot breath fanning across your cheek, wet lips pressing into the side of your neck as he whispers sweet words into your ear.

“There she is,” he says once your eyes flutter open, “That feel good, pretty girl?”

You nod your head dumbly, making him chuckle.

“Can I make you feel like that again? Wanna make you feel so good on my cock, sweetheart. Don’t think I can hold back anymore.”

You feel the way he’s rubbing his tip through your folds, hand gripping at the base with all the self restraint in the world. The precum leaking from his tip mixing with your own slick creating a sticky mess between your lips.

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you beg, canting your hips to match his movements, gasping when his head catches on your entrance.

That’s all Eddie needs to hear. Lining up with your entrance, he pushes his way into you. The stretch is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. David was an alpha, so naturally he was big, but this? You could feel every ridge and vein of Eddie’s cock as he buried himself deeper inside you. The way his tip pressed against your cervix sent a fresh wave of arousal through you and all over Eddie’s desk.

There was barely time to adjust before Eddie was pistoning in and out of you. His hands white knuckle the skirt still sitting at your waist, using it as leverage to keep you in place while he fucks into your tight cunt. Your hands scramble to find something to hold on to, ultimately settling on Eddie’s forearms as your whole body shakes with each thrust.

“Ohhhh fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” you moan in tandem with every movement. Your brain gone, completely replaced with Eddie and never wanting this to end.

“Fuck, Eddie, please.”

“What is it, baby girl? What does my girl need?”

Hearing his voice, the way he calls you his girl lights a fire in your belly. You’d take anything he would give you right now. Anything he wants from you, you’d give him.

“Want yo-o-o-o-ou,” you pant, “Oh, fuck! Want you so bad!”

“I’m right here, sweetheart.”

Eddie leans down, his lips pressing into yours tenderly. You wrap your arms around his neck, pinning him to you until he gets the hint, letting his body weight press into you until you’re chest to chest. His tempo slows down to a sensual drag in and out. One hand grabs at your leg, bending it forward to open you up for him more. He feels impossibly deep inside of you as his head bullies that spot deep inside you.

“Is this what you needed, princess? Just needed me to get closer to you?” His face is pressed into your cheek, eyes threatening to close as he feels his resolve lessening with each passing moment that he’s inside you. But he needs you to come undone on his cock one more time before he can let go.

“Yes, thank you, thank you, Eddie, mmmmm,” the words fall from your mouth with no thought, your only focus on the pleasure that’s building up inside you. Your walls clenching around Eddie’s cock like a vice as you get closer and closer to the edge.

But, in tandem with your imminent orgasm, the dull ache inside you grows as well, blooming with a need that’s almost painful to bear.

“Eddie.”

The breathy, desperate tone in your voice has Eddie pulling back just enough to look at you. A picture of almost pure lust, say for the concerning pinch in your brows.

“I know, you’re so close, baby. Can feel you gripping me so tight,” he coos down at you. But you shake your head, trying your best to meet his eyes as you try to speak, willing him to just know what you want.

“Want it. Want it. Want it,” is all you can muster out.

“What do you want, baby girl?”

“Knot. Knot, please.”

Eddie’s movements still immediately, making you whine. He straightens up completely, looking down at you darkly, his frizzy curls a wild halo around his head as it blocks the light above.

He takes a deep breath in, nostrils flaring on the exhale, “You know what’ll happen if I do that, right? I’m not on anything that would stop—”

“Yes!” You cry, too frustrated and needy for him to move again that you begin moving on your own, fucking yourself on his cock. “Eddie, I want it so bad! Please, wanna be your girl. Want everyone to know I’m your girl.”

Before you can react, Eddie is grabbing you and flipping you over on his desk, almost knocking his computer down in the process. Only a moment later do you feel him pushing back into you with one quick thrust. His hand wraps around the back of your throat, not tight, but enough to keep you pinned down for him as he fucks you. There’s no purpose to his thrusts other than to chase his own high, but the brutal fuck and anticipation of whats to come is enough to finally push you past that breaking point.

The sound of your slick hitting the floor beneath you and the impossible grip your cunt has on his cock has Eddie following not far behind you. Just as you feel his hips falter, you feel a pressure building inside you, pushing at your walls until they’ve reached their limit. It’s painful, until it’s not. Quickly turning into an overwhelming pleasure, you feel yourself cumming again in quick succession as you feel the hot ropes of Eddie’s spend hit your cervix, filling you with an endless stream and then some.

The pressure of Eddie’s body folding limply on top of you feels amazing, the skin to skin soothing you as your still hazy mind craves him. You feel his lips on your shoulder, trailing kisses across your back until he reaches the center, just below the base of your neck. You fully expected him to continue on, simply loving on your body as you wait for him to fully finish.

What you weren’t expecting was for his teeth to sink into the skin of your scent gland. The feeling of his teeth on you is startling, and for a moment you think about your high school health class, where your teacher told you that when you bond with an alpha it would feel like the chemistry of your brain would change. There would be an instant shift that would change everything and, and…you feel nothing.

Well, not nothing. Being wrapped up in Eddie feels like being wrapped up in a blanket by a fire on a cold winter night, like warm water on sore muscles after a long day. It feels like the pieces of the puzzle have all fallen into place. It’s not big or loud, rather, it feels like home. He feels like home.

“Are you okay?” Eddie’s voice comes out muffled against your skin, his lips still pressed against your neck before he starts to rub his face over the gland.

“Mhmm,” you purr, moving your hand to lace over his on the desk, the cool metal of his rings a stark contrast to your hot skin. “M’back’s a little sore, though,” you say as you can feel your body starting to ache from the position you’re in.

Eddie pushes off of you quickly, almost pulling you with him as his shaky legs threaten to fold from how quickly he moved.

You push off of his desk like a cat stretching after a nap, shivers running down your spine as the shift presses Eddie’s still hard cock further inside you.

“Does it hurt?”

You look over your shoulder to see Eddie mesmerized on the way his knot has you over stuffed, feeling the resistance when your bodies tug apart.

The wide eyed look on his face lights the flame in your belly again. Eyes still on him, you start to rock back and forth slowly on him. You’re barely moving with your limited range, but the way he sucks in his breath at the feeling only fans the flames in you more.

“It doesn’t hurt,” you say in a sultry voice, catching his attention now. “Have you never knotted anyone before, Eddie?”

Brown curls bounce as he shakes his head. He swallows thickly, “N-no, I haven’t.”

You moan out at his confession, clenching down on him. And he whimpers, eyes clenched shut as you continue to gently rock against him.

“H-have you ever been knotted before?” He’s panting now. Standing completely still as he watches you fuck yourself on his cock.

You lean against the desk in front of you, the edge hitting your clit just right as you start to grind against it. “Only once,” you say between huffs, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge again. “It didn’t feel this good, though, fuck.”

“Oh, god—“ Eddie’s hands grip at your hips to still your movements, and you can feel a fresh wave of his cum spilling into your already stuffed cunt. The pressure pushes you over the edge with him, a silent scream on your lips as your body shakes in his grip.

He’s panting like he ran a marathon with a bruising grip still on your hips. It takes a moment for him to catch his breath, but when he does, he’s wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into him.

You yelp as he sits back in the chair and situates you in his lap. You’re able to turn your body on his knot, curling into him so your face is buried in his neck, breathing him in. Calloused fingers run up and down your thigh soothingly, leaving tingles in their wake.

“Eddie?” You’re the first to break the silence. His head shifts your way, but his eyes are still trained on where his fingers dance on your skin.

“Hmm?”

“When you bit me, did you feel…anything?”

The corners of his lips curl into a smile, like you had just told him a joke or something.

“Nah,” he said with a chuckle. You almost felt as if he was making fun of you, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout.

“Oh, what’s this face for, hmm?” He grabs your face and pretends to bite at it, making you laugh as you turn away from him.

“Stoooop,” you whine, but your cheeks start to ache with how hard you’re smiling. “Are you making fun of me?”

“What? Why would I make fun of you?”

“Because I was being serious when I asked you about the bite! They always told us that it’s this huge deal to bond with someone so I thought it was going to be like New Year's Day in my mind or something!”

“Are you saying I didn’t totally blow your mind just now—OW!”

You bite Eddie's shoulder playfully, giggling and kicking as he tries to get his revenge by tickling your side.

“Okay! Okay! You totally blew my mind! I give!”

“That’s what I thought,” he says as he lands a quick peck to your lips, making you feel giddy at the contact. “But I promise I’m not laughing at you. I’m just…”

He looks down for a moment before meeting your gaze again with a look a lot less playful than just a moment ago.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to hear me out on this, alright?”

You nod, giving him your undivided attention as he speaks.

“So, like, I don’t know if you would even remember, but that day when we met, when I first saw you I heard these, like, bells ringing in my ears. And not like when your ears ring after listening to loud music, but, like, little chimes or something. At the time I didn’t think anything about it, but when I talked to Steve and my friend Nancy about it later, they told me that they heard the same thing when they had marked their partners.”

Your eyes go wide, heart fluttering in your chest.

Because you remember hearing bells so clearly when you saw him, too.

But how could that be?

“I know,” he says, reading the disbelief on your face, “It didn’t make sense to me either. So, Nancy, she’s really smart by the way, you’ll love her. She went and found some older books on, like, alpha and omega couples that talked about this thing called soul bonding? It’s supposed to happen when two people that are meant to be together like, imprint on each other and basically they can’t be with anyone else—”

Oh.

His voice trails off, coming to the same realization as you.

“Do you think—”

“Yes,” you respond without a second thought. “It makes so much sense. The smells, everything with David, why I can’t stop thinking about you—Fuck, I’ve only been able to get myself off if I’m wearing your sweater!”

Eddie twitches inside you again, his face a bright red at your admission.

“You’ve been wearing my sweater?” He teases with a raised brow. You nod, not seeing any point in lying about it now.

“I like to sleep in it,” you say as you snuggle into him more, “It feels like I’m sleeping with your arms around me.”

“Mmmm, I think I could do you one better. How ‘bout I let you experience that first hand?”

“You don’t think this is too soon, do you?

Eddie places a box labeled “work clothes” on top of his nightstand, reaching a hand out for you to hand him another hanger from the pile on top of his bed—now both of your bed, as he continues to hang your clothes for you.

“Sweetheart,” he sing-songs to you, “how is this going to be any different than the last two months?”

Since your first encounter in his office at work, the two of you have been attached at the hip ever since. You’d spent almost every night at his trailer, only staying at your parents house once to watch their dog while they went out of town for the weekend.

The chemistry between you and Eddie felt unreal at times, like you were going to wake up from a dream and he would be gone. Outside of his work clothes, some may say he looked a little intimidating, but he was the biggest sweetheart you’ve ever met. And when you got to meet his uncle, Wayne, a few weeks ago, you could tell where he got his chivalry from.

“I know, it’s just all so new for me,” you sigh, falling back onto the bed with a huff.

“It’s new for me, too, but in a good way.” You could hear his smile even with his back turned to you. “Besides, this place could use a little feminine touch.”

He turns to face you, taking one big step to bump his legs into yours.

“No kidding, it looked like a college dorm in here,” you say with an eye roll, thinking about the mismatched furniture and band posters he had taped to the wall.

“Well, this college dorm is about to graduate, move on to bigger and better things in life.”

“Like being baby proofed?”

Eddie hums, lowering himself down onto his knees in front of you. You prop yourself up, shifting your legs apart so he can settle himself between them, arms wrapping around your middle as his head rests on your tummy.

“I’m glad Wayne talked me into getting a two bedroom when I was looking around. I thought all I’d ever need was enough for me, but I guess the universe works in mysterious ways,” he says the last part with exaggerated mysticism, and you tug at his hair playfully at his unseriousness.

“Mmm, baby do that again.”

“Oh, my god, whatever.” You roll your eyes, thinking he’s being playful, but the bedroom eyes and parted lips say otherwise.

And soon after his hips are rolling into yours. Sweaty bodies intertwined as he splits you open, your heightened senses from the pregnancy hormones making it so easy for Eddie to keep you cumming for him.

“Come on baby, you got one more for me?”

“Can feel you squeezin’ me.”

“That’s my good girl.”

And you cum again and again and again, losing track as Eddie’s thumb works on your clit in sync with his thrusts.

He wishes he could do this forever. Watching you fall apart on his cock has to be the greatest thing he’s ever witnessed. His eyes land on your non-existent bump, imagining how big it's going to look in just a few months with his baby inside you.

“Can’t wait til you get all big, sweetheart. Gonna show you off everywhere we go,” he picks up speed, his rhythm starting to falter, “Want everyone to know you’re mine, always. Gotta keep you like this. Keep you pregnant so no one— oooooooh fuck! So no one takes you from me.”

“All yours, Eddie,” you babble out, completely brainless, “Love you. Only you.”

“Haaaahh, shit,” his head rolls back, and you can feel him cumming deep inside you. His hips slow down to a stop before he’s pulling out and landing on his back next to you.

You’re immediately cuddling up next to him, your head raising up and down against his chest. His arm curls around you, pulling you into him more so he can kiss the top of your head.

“I love you, too, by the way.”

You snap your head to look at him. “What?”

“You said “love you,” and I’m saying I love you too.”

“I did?”

“Did you not mean it?’

He looks down at you expectantly, waiting for your answer. But you don’t really have to think too hard to come up with the answer.

“Yeah, I love you.”

thank you for reading.

#eddie munson #alpha!eddie munson #eddie munson fan fic #janitor!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader #janitor!eddie munson x teacher!reader #eddie munson omegaverse #omegaverse fic #eds

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last-words-ofashootingstar · 11 months ago

Note

I'm craving for your writing, please spare me a crumb 🛐

ATEEZ favorite positions maybe?

ATEEZ favorite positions

❥ATEEZ (separately) x afab reader

➯a/n: i'm deep deeeeeeeep in the depths of writers block and trying to claw my way out like the feral writing gremlin i know i am- but i have no idea if this is any good, please forgive me for the atrociously long wait. happy valentines ! 💌💕

♡´･ᴗ･`♡▼・ᴥ・▼genre: smut, bullet point style, drabbles

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: eldest to youngest, unprotected(booooo), so much romance im a sucker, soft & rough sex, head(giving and receiving), dacryphilia, overstimulation, possessiveness, brat taming in the form of dumbification, strength kink, restraint, switching holes (LMAO?), forehead touches!!!!!!!! not proof read :(

⁂perm taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

彡★PARK SEONGHWA - lotus

he's a hopeless romantic, and it definitely shows through his favorite positions

he's seated on the edge of the bed, or couch, or chair, even seated on the floor-

and youre seated in his lap like it's your throne

your legs wrapped around his moving hips, arms around his neck and hands tangled up in his hair

it's his favorite position for many reasons

the angle of his hips which makes his cock tease the deepest parts of you

your heavy breaths falling right onto his lips, breathing the same air during such a passionate act

and the way he can see your eyes well up with pleasure with every little thrust until you come undone right infront of him

Seonghwa can see every little twitch of your face as he rests his forehead against yours, his hips had set an unrelenting slow and loving pace long ago and have yet to stop. His tip drags along your g-spot every time he pulls out, and you almost want to beg him to just stay buried deep because of the maddening slow building pleasure. Any attempt to speak on either of your parts only comes out as a puff of hot air into the others mouth. It isn't the first time you've done it in this position, but the intimacy of it completely blankets you every time. You can't feel anything other than each other, and it's pure euphoria.

彡★KIM HONGJOONG - cuddle fuck

it's not that it's his favorite persay, it's just the one that happens the most

people say this man hates affection, they couldn't be any more wrong

he loves to be close to you !

after a busy schedule and tiring day, all he wants to do is cuddle

but your body is so soft and warm pressed against his, he feels so safe and comfortable

he won't say anything at first, either because he's too embarrassed or too tired so it usually goes like this:

Hongjoong has his arms wrapped around you- one cradling you to his chest warmly as the other traces his racing thoughts on your lower back. One of your legs is hooked over his hip, the other tangled between his. You kiss over his tattoo with all of the care in the world and that's when the feeling in his lower belly stirs to life. As you go on about mundane things, like what you should cook the both of you for dinner, it only gets hotter and tighter. Your skin is searing against his in the most pleasant and simultaneously daunting ways. The way you bite your lip tells him you finally feel it, that hardness pressing against your thin house-shorts. You push aside the other topic at hand and move both of your shorts away, wordlessly slipping him inside of you. You're so close, you may as well be one soul. And that's just the way he likes it.

彡★JEONG YUNHO - v

yunho is TALL.

no matter what position you're in, innocent cuddling or sinful fucking or walking down the street-

he shadows over you like a demon

the softest demon ever but still

he's huge and it drives him over the edge when he can see and feel the difference compared to you

so when you've got your legs stretching up as far as they can go and they barely reach over his shoulders????

whew baby prepare your cervix to be bruised

It started as a simple mating press, Yunho' s cock begging him to just fill you as far as possible without breaking you. But when he sat up, your legs followed; no longer being pinned by his chest. You laid them flat against his sweaty chest and arched your back, breaking his mind in an overwhelming horniness as he felt your toes curl just on his shoulder blades when you came. Oh, he'll be damned if he stopped there. He went on for hours, he had never been so hard. He wanted to cum so badly, but at the same time, he never wanted to move away from the ethereal image of you below him like that. When he finally did (and hello wow that was so much cum it literally came splatting out between you) he made a mental note to most definitely get you worked up again tomorrow.

彡★KANG YEOSANG - mating press

this man's beauty and personality is so soft and silky

don't let that shit fool you breh

he is a beast in the bedroom, he goes feral when you're behind a locked door together

there's something about you that just makes him want to overtake your entire being and become one with you

something that makes him want you to break- break just for him

he loves every fiber of your being and he's possessive over you like no fucking other

because of his career, he's not allowed to show that publicly, and he more than makes up for his need to express his dominating feelings for you by-

well, by dominating you

Your thighs are crushed to your chest, feet dangling in the air and bouncing with every rough thrust of Yeosang 's skilled hips. If there was a time that this position was uncomfortable, that time is long gone. All of his deep, quick thrusts wipe away anything in your mind other than him, and the glazed over look in your eyes only makes him go harder. His eyes nearly roll into his skull every time he feels you clench around him, your cunt completely at his mercy. You're ripe for the picking. Laid out for him helplessly, stuck in position by his rough and loving hands on the back of your sore thighs. Completely weak beneath him as he fucks you like it's the last thing he'll ever do on this mortal earth, and you simply let him because you love him. And he absolutely revels in it.

彡★CHOI SAN - against the wall

"sannie bulked up after wooyoung chest bumped him across stage!!"

erm no

sannie bulked up when he saw you watching an against the wall video!!

his brain immediately fried at the idea of doing that to you and now here we are a few years later

he prides himself in how strong he's gotten, how muscular he is

it's an ego boost really, and a deserved one

he loves bending you into whichever position he wants to just because he can

but this will always be his personal favorite

San has his arms wrapped around the underside of your knees, pining them to the wall and effectively folding you in half while he demolishes your holes. All of his praise falling to deaf ears as your head spins with a dizzying pleasure. He lets your forehead fall on his, breathing in your fucked out groans as his thrusts slam your hips and lower back into the wall. You lost it and started cumming the second he man handled you and lifted you with his cock still inside, and now it's his turn for that blinding white pleasure as you grab his big, flexing biceps and drool as you clench around him.

彡★SONG MINGI - 69

song mingi sloppy toppy champion and i don't take criticism on this sorry

he enjoys eating pussy or sucking dick over sex most days, like his soul purpose is to make his significant other feel on cloud 9 (get it they're the 9 and he's the 6 haha okay-)

and when he's balls deep he can't help but go full sub mode and hump like a wild animal searching for primal release

so- head it is

but you want him to feel good too, obviously

and despite his reassurances that making you feel good in turn makes him feel good, you just can't help it

so, a mutual position is found: one were he gets to have his tongue on you, in you, all over you-

and you get to make him an even whinier mess than usual

It turns Mingi on so badly when he gets to taste you, you barely have to touch him. His tongue is deep inside you, hands kneading your ass as he makes a mess of his favorite meal. Hes so lost in the pleasure of giving that he doesn't even realize you've got his cock stuffed in your throat until he cums into the warmth of it. He's always a whiny mess between your legs, and this new position quickly becomes both of your favorites when you continue to tease him through and past his release, and he continues to slurp up the ever flowing arousal that comes from the pleasure of making him cum. It's a never ending cycle really, and neither of you dare complain.

彡★JUNG WOOYOUNG - spooning

now i would say reverse cowgirl because he's obviously an ass man- but that's his second choice

y'all seen that video of him getting all up on yunho on stage from behind ??

yeah that's why i chose this and because it's infecting my brain

something about it just makes him even more feral than usual

everything about it tbh-

let me just *licks pen*

His leg wrapped over your hip and around yours like an anaconda, using his leverage to spread your legs as you're both laid sideways, giving him all the access he could ever want. And boy does Wooyoung take advantage of it, holding you in place with his arms wrapped under your armpits and holding your shoulders tightly so you can't escape the burning heat of his body against yours while he fucks you to the next millennium. In your ass, it's slow and deep, a beautiful painful stretch. In your pussy, fast and shallow and hard, banging your g-spot until you sob. He can feel your ribs wracking with sobs of overwhelming pleasure, and he doesn't stop until you've made a mess of him just as he did you.

彡★CHOI JONGHO - prone bone

big cock!!!!!

there i said it, it had to be done

it took ages and ages to get used to his absolute girth

and even now that you're used to it it still stretches you out and shuts your brain off to put all of your willpower into your cunt so you don't break in half

and he can't help it as his mind begs him to take advantage of that fact when you're being a brat

he knows you turn into a cock whore the minute he stretches you out

and he plans to make use of that fact

Jongho is still so sweet and gentle when punishing you. He doesn't have to be rough, his veiny girth does the job naturally. Usually he'll spread you out nice and wide- not today. Not when you're a brat. He lays you face down and ties your legs together. He can barely shove his member between your pushed together thighs to get inside of you but when he does. It's like the tightest and warmest fleshlight in the world, and it's attached to the person he loves. He will make you forget your own name, just with his goliath friend and slow passionate thrusts.

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yanderelinkeduniverse · 7 months ago

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If you write for the cringe links then may I request Yandere! Courage (Animated Link) with a reader that's open to giving him affection?

Like when he constantly asks for kisses and such they just, give them to him and he's soo smitten with them for it?

Of course! This one got to be a little long so it’ll be under the cut, hope it’s satisfying!

Courage, along with Korodai to some degree, is an absolute sucker for affection and that’s all because of his Zelda - just in a backwards way.

See, the thing with Courage and his Zelda is - if we assume the cartoon is completely canon - that they eventually fell into a very predictable cycle that didn’t end until he eventually left to join the Chain and met you. The two of them would face whatever problem Ganon sent their way, bickering all the while, and then he’d go in for a kiss, only to get interrupted.

He’s gotten kisses from Zelda before, he’s gotten hugs and affection from her on a few occasions in fact, but it’s always something he has to earn. He can’t just say “can I have a kiss” and she’ll just give him one without getting embarrassed or offended.

It’s not like this is some great moral failing on her part, but it does mean that Courage ends up being used to half-jokingly asking for some shred of physical affection only to be met with instant rejection. He doesn’t mind, he’s used to this kind of reaction, he’s prepared for this kind of reaction.

What he is not used to is being given what he asks for without any hesitation.

The first time it happens it’s a complete shock to his system, he asks for a kiss and gets one pressed against his cheek almost instantly. And when that happens he’s left standing there for a second, wide eyed and still as a statue, before he blushes and stutters like he’s never been touched before.

And the thing is, it isn’t the kiss itself that makes him so flustered, it’s how easily he’s given it by you. There was no groan or hesitation or anything that indicated that you were doing it begrudgingly.

He asked for a kiss and he got the kiss, and he got it with you being completely willing and even happy to do so.

In the moment, Courage does his best to brush this off with his usual banter and demeanor, but the moment stays in the back of his mind as he keeps replaying it over and over and over. It’s pretty much the only thing that he can think about when he’s around you, wondering if that was just a one time thing.

Eventually, Courage decides to take a risk and ask once more for a kiss, he even points to the cheek you kissed last time. And just like before, you spare him that sliver of affection without a second thought, and he understands that this isn’t a fluke.

It isn’t a world changing revelation by any means but it sets him on the path to moving on from his Zelda with you.

Of course, this doesn’t just end with Courage being simply smitten with you as he treads down a path of unrelenting obsession.

By the time Courage reaches the peak of his madness, he pretty much requires your affection to function. If he feels like he hasn’t received the normal amount of attention from you he’ll become paranoid and spiral inside his own mind, wondering if you’re tired of him.

But instead of confronting you about this, Courage falls back onto old habits and decides that this just means that he needs to prove himself worthy of your love! At the end of the day you may find him returning to camp with either an animal carcass or a token he scavenged from whatever beast he encountered while out.

All the while he has this expectant look on his face, like he’s waiting for you to praise him and give him a hug for all the hard work he did.

If you do, great! Now you have a blood covered, lovesick hero following you around for the remainder of the night(until you force him to go wash up). If you don’t, that’s fine, just don’t be surprised when his attempts to earn your praise become increasingly more outlandish and brutal.

Though, since he’s completely desperate for your approval, you shouldn’t keep him working too long cause it’ll really begin to show from how little he’s sleeping to the deranged muttering under his breath.

Overall, Courage at his best is like a lovesick puppy dog, always following your around in the hopes that you’ll give him some of your love, and at his worst he’s a desperate, deranged man willing to present his severed limbs to you if it’ll earn your affection.

#linked universe #yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #linked universe x reader #lu courage #cartoon link #acrylic answers

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kurosstuff · 10 months ago

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🍯

Can you do lute x female!reader, reader uses a strapon on lute and wing play is involved. 👀

Oh my~ honestly this- was fun to write- I never wrote wingplay stuff before so! Hopefully you enjoyed it~?

Warning(s): wing kink, strap on use(on lute), vanilla but not at the same time? Idk. Lutes rude at the begining(she's just nervous) overestimated(lute) couple mentions of "breeding"/"being bred"

Im- gonna jump right into it- HELP I- KINDA WENT ALMOST ALL IN ISH?

Lute x reader

It took a while to get Lute to even THINK of bottoming. Much less allow you to even use a strap on her. She's more then happy to use it on you but for her? The thought didn't exactly appeal to her. But- promising to try it once and never bring it up unless she allowed it(that and a bunch of.. kisses) then? She entertained the idea

And that's how she was. On your shared bed with a deep scowl, completely naked. If it weren't for the deep flush on her face. And how her wings puffed up, threatening to expand? You'd assume she was pissed(she was, but that's besides the point)

"The fuck is taking so long?" She growled our glaring at rhe bedroom door "God lute. Calm down, won't you, baby? I'm making sure it's all strapped on!" At that? She growled, looking away with a deep snarl.

A couple minutes passed by before the door finally opened "fucking finall-" her words cut in her throat seeing the toy. Not like the one she uses no- it was so much bigger "what the fuck is that? That's what you picked?" She growled out glaring at you flushed darkly making you smirk moving close to her

"What~? Lute, you scared?" You teased, kissing her, gently biting at her lips, ignoring her protests of 'hell nos!' Sighing "babe.. if you don't wanna do this we don't gotta. We can- like cuddle or something?" Making her stop. As if weighing jer options before shaking her head

Grumbling, she huffed. "No. Its.. fine. Just you picked a bigger one then I tho- oh fuck you don't get so fucking smug" she snarled out glaring at you flushed embarrassed of the whole thing snickering kissing her again

"Sorry baby~ now... can you bend over for me~? Wanna see those gorgeous wings of yours~" Purring out pouring liquid onto the toy watching her do exactly what you asked of her smirking at how they fluttered at the praise "you always get like this when I compliment your wings~" getting onto the bed feeling her entrance gently "excited I see~" Purring out seeing her wings fluttered pushing the tip on her entrance slowly pushing into her stopping half way

"Fuck~," Lute whimpered out, grinding back against you. Hiding her face into the pillow "more~ g-give me more~" feeling you push all the way in, smirking down at her. Moving to hold her waist pounding into her gently

"Easy now lute~," you purred, watching her under you moaning loudly clawing at the sheets. "I've got you~ gonna get faster, ok baby?" Pounding into her faster - harder. Holding her waist, squeezing her gently panting

"Would think you're trying to breed me, Dove~?" She gasped out, bending more bouncing against her, making you hum in thought, biting your lip at how much of a "switch' just occurred. How she's eager to submit to you all the sudden

"Maybe I want to breed you, Lute~." Pounding faster into her ignoring how the bed shook under the both of you barely starting to hit the wall knowing a bit of roughness? She could handle "would you blame me?" You purred out, watching her wings fluttering, flapping slowly.

Smirking at a "cruel" thought, "i wonder~" sensitive here, too?" Moving a free hand to rub at her wings, going all over her delicate wings, pushing all the tight places, hearing her sob moaning louder for you."yeah~ that sensitive, huh baby?" Purring out your pace unrelenting as you took her in your bed.

Watching her wings expand as if to show off to you. As if to signal to you about being a good mate for you. "God gorgeous baby~ yeah? Wanting to mate me, yeah?" Pounding rougher into hrr leaning to kiss where her wings met "wow~ shaking this much?" Seeing her nod so drunk off you from being overestimated. "God~ can't wait to breed you~"

Ever so gently leaning to bite at a part of her wings watching her arch her back, screaming your name out, smirking kissing the mark cooing "couldn't help myself gorgeous ~ I'm sorry" pounding faster watching as she slumped laying under you sobbing out from the pleasure "more~" hearing a broken whimper from her. Ignoring how the bed shook now, hitting the wall harshly creaking under you both from the unrelenting pace.

Panting heavily moving to tower over her kissing her neck praising her as you marked her ip moving faster in her "doing so good~ you close my love?" Purring against her neck watching her nod humming, they smirked, pounding faster in her before humming, rubbing her wings, watching her shake.

"Go ahead~"

At that? With a loud sob screaming out your name- lute came. Slumping down under your wings popping up, spreading as you cooed gently slowly pulling out, "That's my good girl~ I've got you~" whsipering, moving to clean her up gently laying next to her "liked it Lute?"

Grumbling glaring, she moved, cuddling up beside you, kissing you gently. "It was perfect~" Purring out panting wings fluttering .After I catch my breath, I'll pay you back my dove~", making you flush, smirking nodding

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lute #lute x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lute #EVENT #lute smut

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marketfreshfics · 9 months ago

Text

Like Rabbits | Garreth x f!MC

Header image: @newbienewness ✦ 4327 words ✦ NSFW content (MDNI), aged-up characters, unnamed female MC (no use of y/n), alcohol consumption, admission of feelings/slight proposition, masturbation, spanking, p in v, light dom/sub elements ✦ Plot? What plot? This was honest to god just an excuse to write about Garreth in a rabbit costume ✦ Read it below the cut or on AO3

Easter festivities were a rarity at Hogwarts, yet when an opportunity for revelry arose, the seventh-years seized it with unbridled enthusiasm.

For generations, a pact among students governed the hosting duties on such occasions. The house with the fewest points bore the responsibility (and, by consequence, the aftermath) of throwing the celebration. Slytherin, enduring a dismal streak, found themselves reluctantly poised to shoulder the burden once more, the third time not necessarily the charm. As the soon-to-be graduates gathered amidst their diminished house, they sampled the exotic hors d'oeuvres with subdued chatter, their ranks thin and their spirits somewhat subdued, shooing a curious first year who had risen from bed to visit the loo.

You couldn't help but notice the lacklustre effort put forth, evident in the half-hearted swirling of your drink and the telltale lines of boredom etched upon your brow. Natsai, however, who displayed a downright lackadaisical disinterest, was already poised to depart for the evening. "I do think the Slytherins should dedicate more focus to their house standings to avoid committing another crime such as this party."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips in response, prompting an eye-roll from Imelda as she fished a hair from her drink. "Blame Sallow, we’re still recovering from his little bridge stunt."

The memory evoked a ripple of amusement; the viaduct bridge, unimposing as ever one moment, became a terrifying tangle of devil’s snare that multiplied out of control, requiring several days' worth of Confringo to eradicate.

"I’ll let you know I’m still working through detention for that." Sebastian, the culprit in question, shot a wry grin as his classmates riled with snickers, much to his chagrin. "I was only practicing the Geminio charm for Ronen’s assignment! At his recommendation, mind you, I performed it outside on a plant! I swear, Professor Weasley was just trying to-"

"Did someone mention Weasley?"

Heads swivelled towards the echo of an announced arrival from the staircase, and before questions and curiosities could be posted, Garreth Weasley sauntered down the spiral steps wearing a riot of pink cotton with two lapin ears sprouting from his crown. The seventh-years all hollered and laughed at the sight, save for Leander, who appeared wholly unamused by his fellow Gryffindor’s getup. "The bloody hell, Garreth?"

"What?" He grinned at the tall redhead. "Surely we couldn't have a proper Easter festivity without a rabbit present? Where’s the fun in that?"

Leander's jab echoed into the rim of his goblet before he took a sip. "Is that what’s been stuffed under your bedframe for the past month? You look ridiculous."

Undeterred, Garreth opted instead to, well, air his abundance of comfort. "Yes, but I feel incredible. Quite breezy down here, innit?"

Spiked cider sputtered from Sebastian then, dribbling down his chin. "Are you wearing anything under that poacher’s pelt?"

"Isn’t my smile enough for you, Sallow?"

Yet, despite yourself, your curiosity persisted, occasionally wandering to the vicinity of his lap. Heat rose to your cheeks, unrelated to the effects of alcohol, as you observed the subtle jostle there. It was a wager, you thought, with a flush of embarrassment tinting your cheeks, that Garreth Weasley remained, by all accounts, an honest man.

"What even is this fabric?" Natsai protested, pinching the fold of fluff near her housemate’s bicep. "It appears to be rather flammable."

"Now that would provide ample entertainment for the evening." Ominis chimed in nearby, his attention still fixed on his wand-led readings, seemingly uninterested in the fraternization.

"One at a time, darlings." Garreth, the ever-enthusiastic lion, swung a wicker-weave basket to and fro, reminiscent of some fictional harbinger of joy. Nestled within the dried grass padding were several small bottles of firewhisky, a smattering of cauldron cakes, and various other treats from Honeydukes. "I knew the Slytherins were in desperate need of a Pepperup, so I've come to spread the merriment. Snakes enjoy chocolate frogs, don't they?"

"I thought snakes typically ate rabbits," Imelda quipped, raising an eyebrow.

Garreth didn't miss a beat in his response to her jest. "If I were none the wiser, Reyes, I'd wager you'd like to take a hop around my carrot—"

A muttered expletive signalled the departure of the quidditch captain, leaving behind a chorus of laughter.

You found yourself enthusiastically joining in, relishing the unexpected amusement of the evening. As the crowd dispersed, you approached Garreth to select a treat of your own.

"Happy Easter, beautiful." Garreth's voice dipped low, laced with a suggestive tone that he often employed in your company. "Care to take a seat on the Easter bunny's lap and tell me what you want to find in your basket tomorrow morning?"

"That's Santa Claus," you teased in return.

"My mistake."

The flirtations between Garreth and yourself had become somewhat of a tradition throughout your Hogwarts enrollment, though they never progressed beyond playful banter. Here and now, with alcohol’s nack for unbarring inhibitions, the thought of advancing motions with the cheeky Gryffindor didn’t seem like such an unreachable feat.

"You seem rather warm in that outfit," you observed, noting the slight sheen above his brow.

Garreth chuckled. "It's rather steamy in here, indeed. But not to worry, I can… ventilate if needed." Handing you a small package of honeycomb with a coy smirk, he added, "Here, I think you'll enjoy this one."

Before you could inquire further, Garreth was already moving through the lively crowd, intent on distributing more sweets and cheers. With a huff of amusement, you tore into the package of honeycomb, only to notice some writing on the pleat of the wrapper.

'Do you know what rabbits are known for? I think we could do it better. Tell me when you’re ready, and we can hop off for the night.'

The implications hit you like lightning.

Copious procreation.

Flammable or not, your gaze practically burned through the back of Garreth's fluffy pink ensemble as he disappeared into the throng of students.

---

While the evening bled into night, even with the bolstering presence of libations coursing through your veins, the mere idea of approaching Garreth at the night's end had your insides all tangled. Harmless flirtations aside, this was a full-on proposition. What if the request was meant for someone else?

Then again, he’d deliberately dedicated the honeycomb to you…

---

Somewhere between a refilled goblet and the honeycomb wrapper now tucked into your brazier like some love letter from a sweetheart posted overseas, your prior suspicions of Garreth’s costume being rather warm were confirmed. The redhead retracted an arm inside the suit, while the other unzipped the front to his navel, exposing his bare chest as he tied the sleeves around his hips.

At that moment, propriety yielded to fascination, and any pretense of restraint evaporated as you found yourself captivated by the contours of his soft yet sculpted physique. A twinge of envy stirred within you, brought on by the admiring glances of the two Hufflepuff witches directed his way from the sidelines.

Garreth leaned against the wall, a slight trickle of sweat central to his chest, freckles all flushed from alcohol and flirtations, and seeing the wizard looking entirely dishevelled in his buzzed state did something truly wonderful for your inhibitions. Downing the rest of your pep talk, you crossed the common room, approached him near the enchanted piano, and promptly cupped a hand to his ear.

"I’m ready to… hop off, for the night." You whispered, the heat carried with it curling into the shell of cartilage.

"Yeah?" Garreth’s grin settled into a keen sort of coy, and his gaze went all honed-in and confident, leaning into you with some additional insinuations in those glassy greens of his. "Sure you don’t want to linger a bit longer in this charming mildew?"

His stray dig was not lost on Sebastian, who promptly threw Garreth a pointed warning without threat behind it, bopping an ear of his fuzzy getup.

"Settle down, Sallow," Garreth chortled, relieving his cup of its contents before boldly taking your hand. “We know the snakes always host the most splendid of shindigs.”

A chorus of wolf-whistles heralded your departure, along with someone’s award-winning remark about calling Garreth ‘Thumper.’

Down the adjacent hallway you went, past another couple that was long since lip-locked, and the firewhisky fuzz in you sought the very same. At the end of the hallway that connected to the Slytherin dormitories, coincidentally located at the intersection of friendship and something more, you shoved Garreth against the wall and claimed that magical mouth of his with your own.

For all the smart comments, the witty banter, the years of flirtations that stacked the deck and colored your cheeks, Garreth melted against you, a mess of vulnerability and desire. His body responded eagerly, exploring newfound territories with a hunger born of longing. Eventually, his body caught up to the priority of the situation, wrapping both arms around you with eager motions and traveling to all the locations he’d only dreamt of visiting before.

You were moving then—perhaps another student was evicting you from the open area, nudged aptly to ‘get a room’—but at one point or another, between lips, between moans, and those magical, heated renditions of your name, you found yourselves in a vacant dormitory.

"Who’s room is this?" You pondered breathlessly.

Garreth didn’t seem to give two shits as you all but crashed into the bedroom, nearly toppling an oil lamp, sending it teetering on its pegs as you collided with a bedpost. "Don’t know, don't care."

And that conversation promptly died in between your mouths, somewhere in the tangle of your tongues, as Garreth captured your wrists, holding them above your head as he trailed kisses along your throat. Plush, pink lips planted sweet kisses, while the scuff of end-of-day stubble bit friction in their wake.

"Garreth," You murmured with a shallow draw of breath. "You… you fancy me?"

"Oh, we’re well past fancying, love." His tone dipped back into devious territory, the same place where feelings like desire and longing and, goodness, arousal held court. “I’m onto the craving stages of our little tryst, myself. And right now… I need you.”

In response to his confession, your leg instinctively hitched over his hip, eliciting a low groan as he captured his bottom lip between teeth, a rewarding gesture that spoke volumes without a word.

His grip on your wrists was released, instead seeking the supple curve of your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he carried you toward the nearest bed. Settling you down with a sense of urgency, the mattress dipped with his company, and he enveloped you in his embrace, hungering for more of the kisses that fueled his wet dreams.

Garreth pulled back, settling on his knees above you, a pleased grin playing on his lips as he panted, as if suddenly realizing something, perhaps in response to the whisper of a zipper against his bare chest. "Why aren't you naked yet?"

You laughed, mischief set free as you met his gaze. "Excuse me? What about romance? Shouldn't you be wooing me or, I don’t know, engaging in some foreplay?"

The redhead chewed his lip, and it stretched with eagerness. “Of course. Where are my manners? Though I’m still taking all of your clothes off right now, I’ve waited long enough for my Easter present.”

"You don’t exactly give gifts for Easter."

There wasn’t much room left for protest, however, as Garreth all but tore your skirt from your waist, his expression telling of the countless times he’d imagined doing so, perhaps somewhere into his fist or while soaking in the shower. The billow of linen and cotton was discarded with such haste that you thought he’d taken some unspoken offence to the garment, but then his efforts were being spent on tugging your underwear down. A breath born from an expletive ensured you were plenty wet for the introduction.

Verdant irises were engulfed by pupils blown wide, as Garreth drank in the sight of your sex. "God… my imagination could never."

"Like what you see, do you?" You giggled nervously, knees bent and pressed together in honest reflex.

"You have no bloody idea how much I like what I see," he replied with a grin, his gaze tracing every contour of your exposed skin. "...what am I supposed to do now?" It was his turn for a nervous chuckle, palming whatever flesh he made contact with, his demeanour akin to that of a tourist in need of directions.

A soft moan rewarded his efforts. "Whatever you desire... I'm yours for the night, remember?"

And to seal the proverbial deal, you peeled the ruched top up and over your head, unhooked your brazier immediately after, and bit the web of your cheek as you expedited it to the floor, joining the rest of your clothing expenditures.

The honeycomb wrapper fluttered onto your stomach, and Garreth raised an amused brow. "A fond little souvenir, hmm?"

"It’s sentimental, shut up." You purred, quieting his jests with bare chests pressed, and he saw no room for further comment on the matter. Garreth was all mouth then, kissing from lips to chin to lobe as he tutted. "Before we truly make like rabbits and fornicate," He couldn’t help the huff that followed, hearing himself say such a big boy word, "there's something I want to do first."

"Tell me," you urged quietly, fingers tangled in fiery copper curls. "Tell me what you want to do to me..."

"Well, for starters..." He kissed a breadcrumb trail from your neck to your shoulder, "I want to hold you in my arms and get you off."

"Oh god," anticipation drenched your mound and arched your back. "Yes, Garreth, please…"

The sound of your voice sent shivers down his spine, confirming the suspicions he had harboured for months. Curated Gryffindor courage made his heart swell, and his hands trailed down to both hips, maneuvering you around until your back pressed against his chest, playing little and big spoons. Garreth's lips found their way to the curve of your ear, where teeth and lips took turns teasing your lobe. "Comfy?"

"Very much so," you mewled, surrendering to his magnetic presence, your bare back pressed against his chest while you lay on your side. Your hips instinctively moved in synchrony with his, firm against fluffy pink fabric slung low on his waist, and there it is—that stiffness underneath the plush that has your mouth watering and your groin humming. A snort erupted from you at the reminder of the rabbit costume, partially undressed, entirely inappropriate.

"What's that, sweetheart? Gonna share with the class?" He tsked then, and a mischievous grin adorned his face as he felt the delightful pressure of your hips against his own. "Might I… take a dip?"

"Yes," you breathed, already writhing, already wanting, even though his exploration had only just commenced. "Please, Garreth... please..."

And so Garreth learned a lot about himself then; your pleading revealed a new kink. He nuzzled your neck with a mischievous grin, his touch growing more daring as a hand dipped lower; as soon as his fingers gently caressed the carnal crux between your thighs, your neck arched a bit harshly, but that was just fine; you were too absorbed in thoughts of holy fuck, Garreth is rubbing my clit.

The prompt response surprised him, but your brash expression had an undeniable allure. A playful smile appeared on his face as he leaned in and whispered in your ear. "Merlin, this wet for me already? So generous..."

"Can’t believe I’m getting fingered by someone in a bunny costume.”

“Fingered by me in a bunny costume, thank you.” Garreth began sucking over your jugular to elicit a sweet little cry from your mouth, and with the flesh popping audibly, no doubt where a bruise would bloom, he whispered, "You're going to feel splendid around me, beautiful.”

"I want you, Garreth." Grinding your pelvis into both his palm and his dick certainly conveyed as much. It echoed the heat that built over months of minute gestures, sidelong glances, and jokes made at each other’s expense.

"I want you, too." His hand moved with purpose, with three fingers flat against your bud, dipping to explore your intimate depths while those tactful lips brushed the upward jut of your neck. An arm snaked under you and around your middle, palming a breast with a multitasking maneuver that made you squirm.

"Garreth," you whimpered as he caressed your wetness, throwing petrol on the fire within you. You found a rhythm that harmonized with the symphony he composed. "Yes, yes..."

"What is it, baby?" His thumb made love to that throb and swell of nerves, eyes closed in concentration as he leaned closer, exhalation hot on your shoulder.

"I want to come for you," you rasped, testifying that which sought to consume you. "Please… faster…"

Garreth's explorations intensified, and the sound of your slick arousal punctuated each movement. An almost accomplished smile curled his lips, relishing the subtle power he held over you. "Do my fingers feel good?" His voice danced all hushed and seductive, the grate of alcohol and lust on his throat.

You were lost in the whims of his touch, unfolding in his hands. As he quickened the pace of his fingers, your body arched along the river banks of abandon, edging closer to release. "I know something that would feel even better."

He possessed an innate knowledge of the words that would stoke the fire within you. "We’ll get there," he whispered, his breath hot on your racing pulse. "First… come for me."

"Yes," you whimpered, your voice trembling with the impending climax that welled within. His finger movements, an audacious symphony between soaked folds, carried you ever closer. "I'm… I'm… "

As your cries of pleasure came forth with volume, Garreth focused his efforts on your clitoral hood, applying firm pressure as opposed to frantic fingering, intent on prolonging the spasms. At the same time, your body practically sang his praises, and he offered the same in return. "Good girl. Now... are you ready for me?"

You panted, flipping over to face him with a breathless peppering of kisses, flush with gratitude. “Keep calling me a good girl like that, and I will be,” you breathed, gently biting his bottom lip.

He was quick on the draw, bless him. "Good girl.”

Eager motions resumed, bodies practically clinging together. "I want you inside me, Garreth." You squirmed underneath, anticipating his taking. “Let me be your good girl; take me from behind…”

Without hesitation, Garreth shifted you onto your stomach faster than his brain could sort sense of the idea. He grabbed you by the hips, repositioning you on the bed with precision, with his trademark combination of dominance and fondness. You stabilized on elbows, swaying your hips like the comely creature you were.

"Is this what my good girl wants?" he smirked, devouring the gradual parting of your legs, the invitation for him to claim what is rightfully his.

"Yes," you practically pleaded, thrumming to feel the weight of his hands upon your hips, to experience his penetration. "Please, baby... spank me."

He processed the request with his mouth slightly agape in surprise at your words. No one had ever made such a request to him before. "Are you asking me to spank my good girl?"

A coy nod over your shoulder and a bitten lip conveyed your consent. "Yes, please... I'll be good..."

"Say it properly.” The command was all supplicant and alluring, while ravenous hands sampled your inner thighs.

“Please, Garreth…” You whimpered, practically dripping. “Please, spank me.”

"That's better..."

A palm thunderclapped across your rear with unexpected force. Another followed in quick succession, harder than the first, and you cried a simpering symphony. Hips swayed and rutted, knees threatened to buckle, and your back arched as heat rooted deep. "More, please, baby..."

His breath hitched as he took in your heartfelt plea, spurred on by something that mingled and met with testosterone, compelling him to venture into unexplored realms, a captive yearning for sweet freedom. Garreth employed the enthralling control he had over you as he gripped your hips possessively, while his palm branded your buttocks.

"So good," you gasped, and each contact drew forth a garbled moan.

A mischievous smirk played across the lion’s face, as he darkened at the welting consequences of his actions. He prolonged the inevitable. "Oh, is that so?" His hand descended once more, his touch deliberate, unhurried.

"Yes, oh god..." You yearned for a proper fuck, to have your hips hammered, longed to stretch intimately around him. With your bottom lip caught between teeth, you glanced back at Garreth, exuding an eager and willing demeanour. "Baby, please..."

The taut heat of his cock nestled against your rear. Nimble fingers curled into your waist, drawing you closer, and then Garreth discovered the full extent of your arousal. "So wet for me..."

"Only for you, baby..." You pushed your hips back, feeling entirely too empty all of a sudden. "Garreth, I need you inside of me… please, take me... "

"Oh, I'm going to take you, all right."

And then, in a display of vulnerability, he guided you closer with hesitant hands seeking comfort on your thighs. With a shared breath, Garreth aligned himself, gathering warmth and wetness in kind on his cock, and announced his entry with an audible exhale.

Like a reflex, your back arched, writhing serpentine along his length as Garreth bottomed out. He provided experimental thrusts, gradually quickened the pace, and soon you were sucked into a beautiful pattern.

A primal moan parted lips in an unfiltered expression of longing as he delved deeper, as Garreth bucked from behind. Bending down, he pressed an enthusiastic kiss to your nape, grunting with the forceful motion of his fuck. With every thrust, his lips on your neck sent shivers down your spine, and with how desperate he was to hold you close, Garreth clutched you close and brought your torso upright, swaying in rhythm, your bodies making sense of one another’s.

"Oh, baby girl…" The wizard purred into your ear with a strong forearm clamped over your torso and a firm grasp tangled in your hair. He tugged at your strands as he increased his pace, the pricks of pulled nerves eliciting a gasp. His grip across your midsection anchored you to his chest, the tight hold leaving crescent marks of possession into the swell of a breast. A lovely, lewd sound escaped his throat as your hips began to meet his movements, the overwhelming pleasure consuming him entirely.

Your back pressed against his chest, and you contorted in all the right ways. With a head tilted back, your sights set on the heavens, surrendering to the moment. "Fuck me, baby. Hold me tight..."

"I’m not letting go," The words were all breath, the sound caught on the brimming heart stuck in his throat, as he leaned down to bite your neck. "You're... you're mine..."

Your hand instinctively snaked between your legs, choking your clit between index and middle digits. The intense sensation of Garreth's plumbing your depths brought you to the brink, surpassing your wildest expectations. "Oh god, Garreth, I'm... I'm coming...”

A shriek was stifled as you came hard and raw, your abdomen releasing pressure buildup as you rocked against Garreth’s cock like it was your saving grace, coaxing and prolonging your release as you disengaged from body and mind, almost going slack in his arms. The announcement, the tightness of your orgasm propelled him fuck to his full potential, chorused by your cries. He teetered on the brink, his equilibrium delicately balanced as he held onto your hip, thrusting deeper inside with each exhalation, his movements deliberate and steadfast.

The bed protested audibly as you rocked on your knees, punctuating your passionate connection. You coaxed him with a voice still raw and made all the more ragged from your climax. "Come, baby…"

Your words were the catalyst of his coming. Garreth buried his face into the back of your neck, breathing ragged and erratic as the boundless excitement that you built within him finally burst forth in a breathtaking culmination. He surrendered to an overwhelming release, spilling himself deep within.

Collapsing forward, he pressed you into the bed, his body weight a comforting presence upon you. You let out a sound of satisfaction as he settled on your back, your inner thighs slick with evidence of your shared release. An inward sigh of fulfillment escapes you while you tilt to plant a kiss on his cheek. "God, that was even better than the first."

"You’ve rendered me boneless, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as he buried his face in the crook of your shoulder. “I’m utterly spent.”

You couldn't help letting out a soft chuckle; your fingers naturally entwined with his as you both shifted onto your sides. When your eyes met, they reflected a sense of contentment and gratification. "Me too," you admitted, your voice soothing in the quiet aftermath. "Spent and drained..."

Garreth's hand tightened around yours, conveying tenderness. His lips curled into a gentle smile, a sparkle of admiration flickering in his gaze. Compelled by magnetism, you gravitated close, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss. "Stay," you murmured, longing to extend this moment of closeness.

The chuckle he responded with caught you off guard until you realized that you hadn’t the foggiest idea whose bed you just expressed your feelings in. "Ah, I see," you laughed, begrudgingly reaching for your clothes.

As you tugged each article of clothing on, Garreth adjusted the rabbit costume back into place, and you devolved into a fit of giggles. “Did you even take off that ridiculous get-up?”

“Listen, love,” Garreth smirked, claiming your chin with impish intent. “I just fucked the most beautiful woman in our year wearing this. I won't soon be criticizing its charm.”

You leaned closer to kiss him, as breathless as he made you feel. “Fair enough.”

#garreth weasley x reader #hogwarts legacy #garreth weasley smut #garreth weasley fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hl fanfic #garreth x mc #sebastian sallow #natsai onai #ominis gaunt #leander prewett

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theurgists · 1 year ago

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⋆｡‧₊°♱༺ DIRTY LAUNDRY ༻♱༉‧₊˚.

abby anderson x fem!reader

summary: bitter about having to drag your laundry basket down the street for your weekly wash, you have a not-so-nice first encounter with the girl who's wearing the same band tee as you. the good news? she's the type of girl you only see in your dreams. the bad? she's your roommate's girlfriend.

warnings: modern!au, implied cheating, cheating, alcohol usage, mentions of guilt, slight angst, not proof-read

a/n: a republish of a small little unfinished series from last year. before anyone gets on my head, i promise superheaven was not as viral early last year as it is now lolll ( its one of my favorite bands ) anywho, enjoy almost 8k words of tea.... lmk what you think, i love getting feedback!

You were precisely three hundred steps away from your destination; a small, collapsing laundromat a couple of blocks from your lackluster apartment. If you widen your short strides just a bit then maybe you’d be able to cut the distance by a few seconds — maybe, five or ten just to escape the intense rays of the summer sun that beamed down on you.

It was hot enough that the cartilage of your ears were warm to the touch, practically torched by the heat as your fingers ached, feeling as if they were to lock in place at any second from the continuous minutes of strain they had endured. Dirty clothing sat piled in a white, plastic laundry basket, stuffed without care, and unmatched in terms of colors; heavy on the muscles of your arms as you attempted to lift it once more.

The action caused the muscles in your upper back to flex, an ache to accompany the dull throb in protest of the weight that you had tried to pull. A sheen of sweat formed on your forehead; thin enough for you to wipe away with the back of your hand as you puff your cheeks out, letting out a dramatic huff of air.

After you had straightened your back from being hunched over, the heat seemed to creep through you in the form of a dry throat and sticky skin, bare skin trapped under molecules of heat, and clothing damp from the unrelenting ball of fire in the sky. You couldn’t help but let your lips press into a thin line at the feeling of embarrassment starting to burn up on your bare neck, spreading but unseen to the eyes. The band tee you wore did little to shield your self-consciousness, your tension-filled aura seemingly spreading a transparent mist as you resorted to dragging the basket across the uneven concrete of the sidewalk.

Twenty more steps and you’d be able to melt away under the cool blast of the dusty air conditioner. It was better than nothing.

“Do you need some help?”

The voice was one laced with curiosity, a certain playfulness entwined within it as you kept your gaze locked on the tips of your worn shoes.

A second passed by — two seconds, before you shook your head in refusal, pushing wisps of hair out of your face and behind your ear with a finger on your right hand. “No, I think I can manage.”

A dry chuckle reached your ears and that’s what finally caused you to glance at the stranger who had so kindly offered you a helping hand.

She was tall. Her shoulders were broad, and her arms bulky but sculpted so perfectly, the thought that she had to be a bodybuilder had crossed the expanse of your brain. Hell, she had ‘athlete’ written all over here as she towered over you, shielding your frame from the sun, giving you a much-needed break from its unintentional abuse.

In one of her large hands, she held a small bag, a half-eaten empanada taking refuge within the greasy paper staining her fingers in an orange hue that could only be from blotches of oil that littered it.

Her blonde hair cascaded down her back in a fishtail braid, tendrils of it framing her sun-kissed, freckled face as her blue eyes scanned across the expression you tried to mask with confidence; albeit the very lame effort to do so.

You watched as she raised a brow, eying your clammy palms that circled one of the short, white handles of the basket that was filled to the brim with clothing. She couldn’t help but assume that you were someone who waited last minute to do things due to your frazzled state, although she internally slapped herself for criticizing someone when she knew for a fact that she wasn’t in any position to do so. She was way worse.

That’s why she was here too, was it not?

“Doesn’t seem like you’re doing such a good job.”

Immediately after those words were pushed past her lips, she pulled them back in a grimace; realizing just how rude it sounded even though it was unintentional.

With your eyebrows furrowed at the jab, you scoffed with a not-so-nice murmur under your breath before pulling on the basket once more, rushing to move away from the rude stranger awkwardly as her gaze burned into your already heated skin.

Why had that comment bothered you so much? You didn’t know.

But your sour mood was rubbing off on her, you noticed, as she had rolled her eyes before cocking her neck to the left, then to the right to a row of parked cars before her eyes locked on a trash can a couple of feet behind you. She had retreated out of your line of vision, a shuffle of noise being picked up by your ears before a whoosh of air had weaved itself between your now empty hands.

It was only then when you had blinked your dry eyes that you noticed the basket was missing, having been scooped up in her broad arms with ease as she held it in one hand and pulled on the rusting, metal handle of the laundromat glass door with the other, the bell above it ringing loudly as she turned to look at your awkwardly stiff frame stood in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Are you comin’?”

It didn’t take a genius to sense the hesitance that was harbored within you as you continued to stand there, the sun illuminating you in a light glow before you started to move your feet toward her.

Moving past her, you inhaled the faint scent of her — earthy yet comforting; with a hint of cinnamon mixed with sandalwood and clean soap. Turning your head, you found yourself in dimmer lighting and a cooler atmosphere, glad to finally be out of the scorching sun.

“So first you insult my strength and then you find yourself wanting to help me?”

Surveying the empty laundromat, you could hear the small echo of your voice as you questioned her with curiosity, inhaling the scent of different detergents and fabric softeners. If you squint your eyes hard enough, you could spot the small remnants of chewed gum smoothed into the scuffed flooring as it had practically blended in with it from the lack of maintenance the place had received.

Seriously, who was running this place?

Turning on the balls of your feet in a means to face her, you watched as she set your laundry basket down in front of a washer with a small thud. “My goal from the beginning was to help you but I didn’t get my point across in a very polite way, did I?”

“Hm,” You hummed slowly, pretending to think for a second before lifting your shoulders into a shrug. “No, I guess you didn’t.”

Her lips had lifted into a smirk at your snarky response before she jutted her chin outward, nodding in your direction. “Cool shirt by the way.”

With lips open and ready to respond to the sudden compliment, your eyes quickly scanned across her attire. Throughout the small interaction, you had seemingly failed to notice the dark muscle shirt she wore.

Five blue mushrooms with pink stems decorated the front, along with a mint-green snake wrapped around the mushroom in the middle. The words ‘Superheaven’ took all the attention in big, bold lettering in a shade similar to Indigo Blue — but not quite the exact color.

Looking down at your own, you realized that you were wearing the same shirt, and a twinge of interest sparked up in you.

“You listen to Superheaven?”

The girl raised an eyebrow, “Asking me personal questions already and I don’t even know your name.”

Rolling your eyes for what was the hundredth time today, you leaned down to pull the washer door open, shoving a handful of clothes in the small circle hastily before slamming it shut, pushing until you heard the small ‘clink’ of the latch as it was now secure. “It wasn’t a personal question.”

Digging your right hand into one of your back pockets, you retrieved a chipping, neon orange card, inspecting both the front and back side, shrugging in satisfaction at the state of it.

You silently prayed it worked; as you had found it in the depths of your drawer. It had almost faded into the abyss of all the junk in the dusty area as you stared it down. The contemplation on whether or not to save yourself a couple of dollars for half of the bills of your cracking apartment and risk it not working and being fucked — or — spending the money on a good wash and clean but regret it in the hours of the night where you’d find yourself staring at the ceiling in the darkness of your room, mentally beating yourself up for the path you had taken resulting in your financial choices.

Thus, here you were, sliding it into the beat-up machine that provided small packets of powdered detergent, inconspicuously crossing your fingers in the hope that there was just enough money in there for you to wash your clothes. “Just one someone else would’ve asked you eventually if they haven’t already.” You continued.

Glancing at her from behind your shoulder, a challenging look crossed your features once you had gotten her attention. “Unless you respond to everyone in the same manner you talked to me in and they were put off by that?”

Turning your head toward the machine again, you pressed the dust-covered buttons for your desired laundry soap, watching the price flash in red on the small screen above the keypad as it dispensed.

From behind you, she cleared whatever blockage was in her throat, the muscle behind her closed lips clicking against the roof of her mouth as she thought of a retort.

“No, just you.” She confirmed, moving her azure eyes from your frame to focus on the task of shoving all of her clean laundry from the large dryer in a white, plastic garbage bag; the material of it ripping as she tried to stuff every article of clothing she brought with her inside.

You hummed, nodding your head despite knowing that she wasn’t staring at you. “I still didn’t get your name though.”

She wiped the layer of sweat forming on her forehead, swiping at it with the back of her hand before dusting the perspiration on the denim of the loose jeans covering her thighs. “Abby.”

It was a curt reply to your statement. A simple — but sweet and short answer that caused the corners of your plump lips to quirk up in a lop-sided smile as you bent down, outstretching your arm to grab the small packet of laundry detergent before retreating to your clothing.

“Okay Abby,” A satisfied look crossed over your features as you decided that you liked the way it sounded after it rolled off the tip of your tongue. It suited her just a tad, even though it wasn’t the first guess you would’ve made if she had asked you to play that sort of guessing game with her. “So, judging by the shirt, I’m assuming you listen to Superheaven?”

Opening the small, built-in compartment in the washer for the soap, you poured half of the packet, figuring it was just enough to get the job done before closing it. A couple of feet away from you, you could hear the taller girl shuffle around before she sat on one of the chipping wooden chairs; the object creaking with a small groan under all of her weight.

Watching as she shrugged, you noticed how her tongue broke through her once-closed lips, moisturizing them before she cocked her head to the side. “Kind of? I mean, my girlfriend does. She was the one who got me into them.”

Your finger stopped above the button to start up the machine only for a fraction of a second before you pushed inward, a small beeping noise filling the tension-filled silence before a rush of water signaled the start of your cycle.

Settling for a lame, “Oh, nice!” you awkwardly leaned against the dusty metal of the vibrating machine, looking at her freckled face, flushed and shiny with sweat as she focused all her attention on tying the second knot of the bag.

The old, rusty air conditioning did little to cool the temperature of your body as you glanced around the stuffy area, sniffing lightly from the particles of dust floating in front of you, disturbed from the palm of your hand slapping onto the surface of cool metal behind you.

Abby kept her eyes locked on the torn trash bag as she stood from her position, back cracking slightly as she stretched her limbs, letting the blood flow regularly through her veins once more. “What’s your favorite song by them?”

“Uh,” You paused, biting on your lower lip, scanning your brain for the songs you remembered from their discography which was only about two albums long. “ it’s gotta be their most known one, I'm not gonna lie.”

Abby hitched the bag over her shoulder without struggle, biceps flexing as she snapped her fingers before holding her other hand out to stop you from uttering your next sentence. “Wait, don’t tell me. Is it, uhh…” She thought for a couple of seconds, pushing wisps of blonde hair that had fallen in front of her eyes behind her ear; opting to angle her mouth to blow them away when that temporary solution didn’t work. “... ‘Youngest Daughter?’”

“Close, ‘Life in a Jar’.”

“I was on the right track, though.”

You scoffed playfully, craning your neck in the direction of the impending darkness that awaited you outside, the sun low on the horizon and casting a warm glow of gentle light into the dim, dreary, place.

“By all means, don’t let me hold you up either.” You expressed, gesturing to the bag over her shoulder which she seemed to momentarily forget about with parted lips, raising both brows in surprise that there was even something in her hand.

It came as a shock to you when she had set it down with a small ‘thud’ once more, pulling her phone out of her back pocket a minute after as it had quietly buzzed in the space of her jeans, warm on both sides from being trapped against two heat sources. You watched with bated breath as she sat again, thumbs furiously typing away on the screen, her lips all but pressed together into a thin line.

Turning back to your clothing being tossed about in the wash, you focused on the suds of soap sloshing around the hazy water, clusters of bubbles forming before they’d be ripped apart by the force of the splattering water.

“I was gonna stay here and chat a little longer, but I’m needed elsewhere.” Her words pulled you out of your spinning thoughts, your bottom eyelashes fluttering against your skin as you blinked, clearing your throat.

Before you could speak, the bell above the door rang, and she was out the door with a small ‘it was nice meeting you’ left in her wake as slammed shut behind her, leaving her scent and the previous conversation lingering.

And then you were alone.

━━━━ ◦: ✧✲✧ :◦━━━━

Standing behind the kitchen island, you squeezed the damp, wet rag between nimble fingers, the muscles in your bicep straining to scrub at a particularly stubborn stain on the counter that refused to leave.

Over these past couple of days, an overwhelming sense of guilt has consumed you. Guilt for thinking about Abby.

Whenever her face flashed as if it were a film on the reel of your mind, you thought about the short, meaningless interaction you had to remind yourself that she was just a stranger being nice.

Nothing more, nothing less.

So, why exactly did her name bounce in the space of your brain in big lettering, screaming for attention?

You had no idea.

Sighing dramatically, you grasped one of the sharp edges of the cool, marble counter with your left hand, scrubbing at the same spot with your right furiously.

“Are you okay?”

Freezing in your tracks, you titled your head up to come face-to-face with your roommate, Lorelai, observing how the once relaxed muscles under her smooth skin contorted into that a worried expression as her bare feet padded against the wood flooring. Her eyes never left yours even when she lifted a hand to pull the refrigerator door open, curling her fingers around the handle as she turned her torso to face you.

You nodded, darting your eyes from side to side as you dropped the rag onto the island, discarding it before leaning your lower back against the edge to fully show your interest in the arising conversation.

“Yeah. Why?”

Lorelai shrugged nonchalantly, bending down to get a better look at all the drink choices available in your limited supply of groceries; some of which were close to being unusable due to upcoming expiration dates. “I figured I’d ask 'cause you’ve been a little spaced out these last couple of days.”

Pulling out a half gallon of Orange Juice, she closed the fridge door before making her way to one of the many cupboards in the kitchen, grabbing a glass, and rinsing it with faucet water.

Tapping your short fingers against the polished marble, you spoke. “I just have a couple of things on my mind, but really, I’m good.”

You had met Lorelai in your senior year of high school; having sat next to each other in chemistry class unwillingly as you were given assigned seats for the semester. While others sulked with their seating partners, you and the brunette hit it off as soon as her butt touched the chair. She was an extrovert; a bit on the chatty side, wanting to cover any and every ground possible in terms of socializing without crossing any boundaries. As sweet as she was, the girl who only stood at a mere five foot three deemed herself to be just as scholarly, graduating top of her class and valedictorian.

From then on, you two were stuck at the hip. Spending all three months of summer after graduation vacationing to wherever your near-empty wallets, and even emptier bank accounts allowed.

She was your best friend; so much so that after your sophomore year in college, you made the big decision to move in together.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes playfully before gulping a large sip of her extra pulp-filled orange juice. “Yeah, okay.”

She resolved to put her short glass in the sink once she got to it, “So, you know how I uh,”

Her lips pressed into a thin line as if she was debating on letting her next words slide past them.

After a couple of seconds of her silence, you slowly raised a brow, cocking your neck to the side as tendrils of hair tickled the skin of your shoulder through the material of your shirt; an involuntary shiver being sent down your spine at the movement.

The gasp that left you when she quickly whipped around was low, reverberating in the back of your throat when she stared at you with wide eyes.

“I have a girlfriend and she’ll be here in like five minutes. I didn’t wanna tell you 'cause I know how you go into mom mode making sure the apartment is clean and I didn’t want you to feel stressed, especially since it’s just her.”

Parted lips turned into a slack, achy jaw as you took in the rush of words she threw at you in the form of a confession. The cogs in your brain turned a little too painstakingly slowly, your eyes narrowing into slits as her rant hit you right across your face. “Oh, my god.” You chuckled. The noise develops into a maniacal laugh, then you gasped dramatically, “Oh my god!”

This was her very first relationship. Ever. And you were freaking the fuck out.

For as long as you had known Lorelai; she kept the possibility of meeting someone in a romantic aspect within arms reach; coming to the conclusion that it was something she’d commit herself to once she was ready to make that big of a leap — you guessed this would be the point in her life where that leap was being taken.

For that, curiosity gnawed at you greedily as you found yourself desperately wanting to know who exactly had her on her high horse; apples of her cheeks rosy with admiration, an equally love-drunk smile and a few extra skips in her already peppy step.

But as you went to speak, to let your questions flow out of you as the metaphorical dams had been picked up from your mind, letting you gather yourself; there were three, sharp knocks at the front door.

With a giddy smile on her face, Lorelai ran in place for a couple of seconds, ridding herself of the burst of energy as she looked from you, to the door, then back to you again. “She’s here,”

Looking down at your attire, you decided that short shorts and a crop top wasn’t suitable enough to be meeting a girlfriend — let alone your best friends, so you pointed a thumb back to your room, heart beating erratically against your ribcage.

“I’m gonna go change. Open the door.” You whispered, scurrying back to the confines of your bedroom and closing the door behind you. Looking around, you blew out a breath, eying the pink dresser to your right, a couple of feet away from the foot of your bed before shuffling toward it to yank open the third drawer down.

Ransacking for a pair of sweats seemed to be a hard task on this night out of all nights as you grew increasingly annoyed at the lack of pants you had stumbled upon. The pressure of presenting yourself for Lorelai’s sake in a timely manner compacting tightly, as if to signal that you were treading on thin ice. Loud muffled laughter could be heard, a sound that was slightly foreign to your ears as you shook your head, rifling deeper into your drawer as if it were a bottomless pit.

Seriously, you just fucking washed laundry too.

Your hands ghosted across the waistband of your blue shorts, fingers yanking the material down as to rid yourself of the article of clothing. Sighing to yourself, you bent down to step out of the thin cotton material, throwing it somewhere in your room for you to find later before adjusting the lace of your thong.

It was one of your favorites; all white with small, red cherries patterned across with a lace waistband. You had gotten it on a self-care day, something that you had spoiled yourself with once in a blue moon for all the hard studying you do. Plus, there was a sale at the local mall in Victoria's Secret; Lorelai had all but dragged you right into it as soon as her brown eyes fell on the sale sign.

Shimmying on your sweats, you were able to pull them up to your ankles before a sudden rush of air hit your ass, goosebumps rising on the once smooth, blemished skin there as you grew stiff, the hairs on your arms raising, tickling the flesh covering your body in a taunting manner as you sighed, preparing to turn yourself around.

“Lorelai - I said-“

Only it wasn’t your best friend who you were standing half naked in front of; nipples perked through a thin spaghetti strap, lace thong leaving little to the imagination — it was her girlfriend.

The girlfriend who you saw less than a week ago in the laundromat in all her muscular, blonde-haired glory.

God, you were fucking mortified.

“Well this isn’t the bathroom.”

“Obviously not.”

What.

The.

Fuck.

━━━━ ◦: ✧✲✧ :◦━━━━

“She can’t know.”

“Jaime, I can’t kick her out of the apartment for two hours. She lives here too, just a reminder.” With the heat of your cell phone against the tissue of your ear, you maneuvered yourself around the island counter. Bare feet padded against the hardwood of the freshly mopped floors as you opened the freezer door with a free hand, eyes darting across the small space in search of your dinner for tonight. “She’s also not stupid so she’ll know something’s up.”

From the other end of the line, crackling static was all your ears could pick up before she sighed loudly, breaking the beat of silence. “Well, I have to decorate the apartment for her birthday. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't set up a celebration? Can’t you just ask her girlfriend to take her to do shit? Unless she’s one of those whacko types of people. God, I hate buzzkills.”

Rolling your eyes, you outstretched an arm into the coolness of the frosted freezer, digging out a pint of unbranded mint chocolate chip ice cream. “I’m pretty sure she has a couple of things planned. From what I’ve seen so far she’s in good hands.”

“Okay, so what I’m hearing is that the girlfriend’s cool, and there isn’t an issue with her keeping Lorelai out of the way.” Her chirpy voice held a hint of a smile as she shuffled about. You assumed she was gathering her things; keys, purse, charger, and the decorations she had hoarded up in a brown, cardboard box for the past two weeks for this occasion.

Jaime was a good friend. That was evident from the numerous times she’s run to your side, consoling you in the instances that you’ve cried due to personal happenings… and the group of individuals she’d hang out with. Truthfully, the capacity of your brain couldn’t comprehend the exact reason as to why she rubbed shoulders with who she did, mostly because they had money; something Jaime was practically swimming neck-deep in.

You shrugged, an action accompanied by the edges of your lips which turned into a frown as you focused your attention on the plastic lid of the container, peeling it off with your right hand, the phone still sandwiched between your ear and shoulder blade. “Yeah, Abby’s cool. Bestie approved.”

Abby.

Three weeks. Three weeks and two days had passed since that bathroom mix-up fiasco, and to say things were tense was putting it lightly, to say the least. After you frantically shooed her away, bent forward and pants mid-thigh, the uncomfortable silence that hung in the air after the door closed had your heart palpitating. It was embarrassing to the point where the blood flowed to your cheeks, causing them to be warm to the touch. When the door had closed after the short exchange of words, you had sat in the corner of your bed, pants still halfway on, and eyes as wide as could be.

At the time, you had no idea how much time passed when you sat there before finally taking a deep, burning inhalation of breath and pulling the rest of your sweats up your thighs. Wiping your warm, clammy hands on the fabric of them afterward as a means to rid any nervousness and tension that had weaved itself between your muscles.

Looking back at your past decisions, hiding behind the chipping, wooden door frame that lead to the living room area wasn’t the best idea, as it only made things just a tiny bit more awkward when Lorelai coaxed you from your shell, leaping for you to reveal the look of embarrassment that clouded over your features. The thick fog that compressed your lungs had nearly sent you into cardiac arrest as the three of you stood there in silence, and it had been Lorelai who had been the one to ask if you two knew each other, taking notice of your body language.

It was Abby who had nonchalantly shrugged and said that the both of you had met a week prior at the laundromat, leaning against one of the countertops, muscles bulging from underneath the t-shirt she wore.

This was truly a revelation to you and an unexpected one at that.

Out of all people. It had to be her. It had to be Abby.

Shaking your head, you rolled your eyes at how peppy you sounded, setting down your phone on the marble of the island counter. Twisting your body around to pull open one of the many drawers, your fingers flexed, plucking a silver, metal spoon from the small bin, twirling it in your grasp.

Jaime clapped her hands together, mumbling something incoherent to who you assumed was her cat judging from the low, crackled meows that followed. “Nice, I’ll be there in an hour.”

Opening your mouth to interject, you huffed at the beeping that signaled the end of the call, and your very short conversation with Jaime.

Puffing out your cheeks, you sighed to yourself dramatically, scanning your eyes around the expanse of your shared, empty apartment before stabbing the tip of your spoon in the lush green of the cream, scooping up an extra chocolate chip or two along the way.

It was just you and your thoughts.

On any other day, you would’ve enjoyed it, sitting in silence; listening to the muffled chirps of the birds outside hidden in green shrubs, the whoosh of wind ruffling trees, and the constant honk of horns at the end of the street. It was a thinking period, a time when you’d plan out your day without having to worry about anything — or anyone.

Clearing certain things from your consciousness was a talent, and you pride yourself in your ability to tune out things. It was something Lorelai had learned to live with these past couple of years, even though it still annoyed her to no end.

Practically throwing yourself onto one of the three wooden stools lined up against the outer end of the island. It creaked beneath you when you leaned back, causing the skin of your lips to pull back into a grimace as you continued to sulk in the presence of nobody else but yourself.

Shoveling the cold spoon in the warmness of your mouth, the mint flavor seeped onto your tastebuds, melting as you swallowed. The enamels of your teeth were cold from the contact they had with the dairy, a slight throb forming near your gums when you took another bite.

You had no choice but to text Abby, even though you were deciding against it. After all, you didn’t want Lorelai’s surprise to be ruined and Jaime to hit you upside the head for neglecting the only task you’d been assigned.

So, with the slightest bit of hesitance, you left your spoon in the container and picked up your phone from the counter, typing in your six-digit password and scrolling through your messages to find her name.

Her number had been given to you last weekend by Abby herself, who had awkwardly pulled you aside and silently passed you her phone, the contact info option already open, as well as the keypad. Just as you should’ve been — you were confused, very confused.

In every crevice and dark corner of your mind, there should’ve been a reason as to why exactly she wanted your number, but that question quickly left your mind when you looked at her freckled face, and long, fluttering lashes.

Fuck.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you let your fingers hover over the keyboard as you organized the right words to text in your brain, the sentence a jumbled mess.

“ decorating the house for lorelai :) keep her occupied for an hour or so, please!”

“ for sure. what time do I bring her back? “

“ four?? I don’t know, around there. “

Receiving a thumbs up back in response, you pressed one of the side buttons, clicking off the screen.

━━━━ ◦: ✧✲✧ :◦━━━━

“Happy Birthday!” The numerous voices shouted with you, all facing toward the front door where Lorelai stood, Abby in tow.

It had been three hours since Jaime burst through the door, the box of decorations in hand, giddy with excitement at the opportunity to execute her vision. She had shoved the brown box into your hand, asking you to set it down on the coffee table in the living room as she spun on her heel to start, babbling about where things should go.

The decoration process went more smoothly than anticipated, and it was because you had just stood in the corner the entire time, watching curiously as she set the house up for the occasion.

Once Jaime started something, you just had to leave all the work to her, or else it wouldn’t turn out how she envisioned.

“What the fuck? Oh, my god!” Lorelai’s face morphed into one of surprise, a smile overtaking her lips as she clasped her hands together in front of her. “You guys did this all for me?”

From beside you, Jaime raised her hand, “No, just me. C’mere you big goober.”

The space she once occupied was empty as she met Lorelai in the kitchen area, embracing her in a tight hug before letting her go.

You watched from your spot near the arm of the couch, as Lorelai’s eyes darted from every party guest and straight to you, a big, lop-sided smile gracing her face as she made her way over to you.

Your lips curled upward in response, arms outstretched to hold her in your arms. She smelled like freesia and cotton candy perfume, something comforting to you, but not to the point where you could feel all the guilt melting away.

It was hot on your skin, burning you alive and tainting your very existence, starting from the outside.

You were a bad friend. A fucking horrible one for thinking about her girlfriend, who looked at you from behind Lorelai’s shoulder with a toothy grin, her irises practically boring into yours.

“Happy Birthday, Lai.” You muttered quietly into her ear, cheeks warming once she pulled away to look you in the eyes. They were swimming with adoration — something you didn’t deserve.

“Thank you.” She expressed over the chatter, hands interlaced with yours as she swung them from side to side. “This year’s birthday is tied with last year's so far.”

At that, you snorted. “So indoor drinking is better than the carnival I took you to?”

Her brown hair fell over her shoulder as she cocked her head to the side, and just as she opened her mouth to answer, Abby appeared next to her, guiding a hand to the small of Lorelai’s back.

“This looks nice,” Tilting her head to look at the colorful eyesore of streamers, she pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek, letting her eyes travel from the ceiling to the walls that were littered with pink balloons. A large “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” sign hung across the width of the wall-mounted flat screen tv, decorated with heart stickers to, in Jaime’s words, ‘make it more noticeable.’ although you doubted anyone beside you, her, Lorelai, and Abby had taken the time to look at.

Nodding your head, you fiddled with a loose string at the end of the blouse you had changed into, something a little more modest than you’d usually go for, but cute nonetheless. “Yeah, Jaime did a good job.”

The fast-paced clicking of heels had you turning your head in the direction of the sound. Jaime stood with four wine coolers in her hands, dangling them in the air from the necks as she outstretched one of her arms.

“I heard my name, so I came with drinks.”

You narrowed your eyes, the gears in your head turning as you tried to decipher what brand rested in her shaky hands, smiling widely once you realized what they were. “I can never say no to Mike’s Hard.”

Abby nudged you playfully, nodding her head to agree with you as she took the two glass bottles from Jaime’s left hand. “In my top five.”

Snorting, you turned to her, jaw agape. “Top five? You have horrible taste. Top three at least.”

She shook her head, tendrils of hair falling from her usual fish braid. “My top three spaces are reserved for the hard shit only.”

Rolling your eyes, you shooed her off, watching as she handed Lorelai one of the bottles, leaning down to whisper something in her ear, which earned her a giggle from the brunette as she slapped her bicep.

Averting your gaze from the pair, you sighed, grabbing one of the bottles Jaime held out to you, and popping the cap open with your shirt. Wasting no time, you chugged half of it down, the cool liquid soothing the dryness in your throat before removing it from your lips, licking the saccharine sweetness that lingered.

“Why the fuck are we all standing in a circle? I have a game of beer pong set up in the kitchen, let’s go birthday girl.” Taking her hand, Jaime dragged your best friend to the island counter, initiating a conversation with two other kids from campus for what you assumed was the game.

You weren’t sure who connected their phone to the portable speaker, but you were grateful that it was no longer silent, especially with the building tension between you and the muscular girl next to you.

“So,” Abby began, leaning against the wall, leg crossed over the other, “I kind of wanted to talk to you about something.”

Taking another swig from your bottle, you pulled your eyes away from the crowd sitting on the couches, a very intense match of uno taking place.

It took everything in you to stare at her straight-faced, despite your curiosity. What could she possibly want to talk to you about?

“Yeah?”

You watched cautiously as she focused on the miniature opening of her alcohol bottle, index finger tracing the rim once — twice — three times before she puffed out her cheeks, sighing. “Did I do something?”

“What?”

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug, “I don’t know. I’m trying to be friends with you and it seems like that’s not what you want from me. If it’s about what happened a couple of weeks ago, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

Turning your body to face her, you noticed the rosy tint that consumed the apples of her cheeks, beet red and burning. “What common interests do we have other than Lorelai that calls for us to be more than just acquaintances? And I wasn’t embarrassed, I was mortified.”

A dry, airy laugh made its way past her lips. “You and me both.”

“Didn’t seem like you were.”

“Oh, I was.”

You downed the rest of your ‘Mike’s Hard’, lifting it to your face to observe the label. It was something to keep yourself busy to not stare at her again. Because, fuck, if you stared at her again, you were sure you’d go into cardiac arrest.

“Besides that, as I said, there isn’t a reason for us to be friends.”

Abby raised an eyebrow, staring at you with a hint of curiosity swimming in her eyes. “You said we don’t have any other common interests besides Lorelai, I don’t think that’s the case. What about Superheaven?”

You were surprised, even if your face didn’t show it. She hadn’t forgotten that meaningless three-week-old conversation? Interesting.

“See, the only common interest we have.”

“No, we still have Mike’s Hard to talk about.” She pressed, eliciting a low laugh from you.

“What? You want us to discuss our favorite flavors?”

Abby clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, “That depends on if you want me to get you another drink or not.”

If this was her attempt at trying to pry a conversation out of you, she succeeded.

“...Okay, surprise me.”

━━━━ ◦: ✧✲✧ :◦━━━━

As seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours, your crowd of friends retired home for the night.

That left you, Lorelai, and Abby alone in the apartment, separated by walls and your figure hunched over the toilet.

Mentally, you were slapping yourself at the excessive amount of drinks you consumed throughout the night on an empty stomach. And the cold sweat you were in made it all the more worse for you.

Lorelai had gotten violently drunk, stumbling all over the place, words slurred and incomprehensible, the world slowly spinning. She was always a clingy drunk. That was evident from the multiple times she had hugged you and Abby throughout the night, drunkenly expressing how much she cared for the both of you, switching between holding both of your faces in the palm of her hands.

Her actions pierced your soul. She had been nothing but kind to you, showering you with positive affirmations and listening to your rants about things that bothered you, because she cared, she always did.

You did too, but not in the way she did for you.

Unlike you, she considered people’s feelings. Especially when it came to relationships, and unbeknownst to her, you were slowly weaseling your way into hers.

It wasn’t like you wanted to. As the days turned into nights and the process repeated itself, you tried damn near everything you could to get her girlfriend out of your mind. You failed — miserably.

Clutching the sides of the ceramic toilet, your stomach empties its contents, causing your mouth to taste sour and the saliva to pool at the surface of your tongue, bringing you to swallow back the bile.

You gasped at the unforeseen knock at the bathroom door, brushing a hand through the knots in your hair.

“Yeah?” Clearing your throat at how hoarse you sounded, you could hear Abby’s muffled laced with concern as she spoke.

“Are you okay? I heard you throwing up so I brought you some water.”

Setting your butt down on the tile flooring once again, you brought your knees up to your chest, closing your eyes to see if that would make you feel any better. “I’m fine. You can come in.”

Her broad figure stood in the doorway, a bottle of water swallowed by her right hand as she pursed her lips, closing the door quietly behind her. She stared at you for a couple of seconds, ocean-blue eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You snapped.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re judging me for not knowing my limits.”

Her face scrunched up, the skin there creasing, as if she ate something sour. “What? I wasn’t looking at you like that. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Bending her knees, she leaned down until she was face to face with you.

You swallowed thickly, “Where’s Lorelai?”

Abby lifted a hand to scratch the back of her neck, biceps flexing as she did so. “She’s sleeping. I got her changed and put her to bed.”

You opened your mouth, “Oh.”

“Yeah, you should probably lie down, too.”

Waving a hand in her direction, you lazily shooed her off. “No, I-”

There it was. You making an embarrassment of yourself, vomiting for the third time in the toilet bowl, spitting, and pressing down on the handle to flush.

“See, I told you.” She chuckled, amused at your stubbornness and the fact that your face had turned an unappealing shade of green.

The blonde took the initiative to hold your hair back as you threw up again, liquid this time as you had filled yourself with nothing but alcohol and ice cream earlier on in the day.

She didn’t know why she was sitting in here with you, you were fine, you could take care of yourself. She should be with her girlfriend, already tucked beneath a thick, warm comforter, drifting off into sleep.

But here she was instead, with you — someone who she assumed harbored some sort of dislike for her.

To her, that was unfortunate because after she had left the laundromat the day you two met, you were all she could think about. She was filled to the brim with guilt, even without knowing who you were, and when she found out — hell, it made the battle in her mind ten times worse.

She watched as you lifted your head, tilting your head back against the coolness of the wall, hoping to at least lessen your sickness slightly to eventually pick yourself up from the floor and drag yourself to the confines of your bedroom.

This was enough for today.

Uncapping the cold, plastic bottle, you let the stream of water slide down your throat, gulping mouthful after mouthful until you were satisfied.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Abby didn’t know why, but she found her limbs moving without her mind catching up to match her actions, hands on either side of her cheeks, thumb brushing over her cheekbones, feeling the heat of your flushed skin against her own.

She was full of surprises today, and you weren’t prepared for the last one of the night.

It concluded with the flesh of her warm, chapped lips against your cold, wet ones, despite the numerous times you dipped your head in the toilet.

And just like the bad friend you are, you kissed her back, hard enough to knock her off the tips of her toes and onto her bottom as it came in contact with the tile of the bathroom floor.

She pulled away, looking you straight in your eyes without a hint of guilt giving away how she felt right now, but the hammering of her heart against her ribcage gave you the answer you needed.

“What’re you doing to me?”

#abby tlou #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x y/n #tlou part 2 #tlou2 #abby anderson angst #abby anderson fluff #tlou abby

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ebullientheart · 1 year ago

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bulletproof vest. aaron hotchner x reader

content — hurt/comfort. fluff. fem!bau!reader. brief references to typical bau violence. marriage. requested by anon.

you have a nightmare that, for once, is unrelated to your line of work.

your jobs are quite literally nightmare material. arson, murder, and a volley of heinous crimes you spend days and nights peering into. it is entirely unsurprising these villains chase you into the realms of subconsciousness, living in your minds as payment for delving through theirs. almost poetic.

so later, when your adrenal gland gets itself under control, you’ll likely find it funny that your scare came from something objectively less terrifying than your daily life. but in the moment, it feels just as horrible as being hunted by an unsub, or being forced to shoot, or finding yourself utterly defenceless.

all the typical signs of an activated fight or flight invade your body as your eyes peel open. you force yourself to sit and push your pillow upright against the headboard, swiping your damp palms over the sheets and trying to calm your heart. you think its intense pounding is probably what wakes aaron, whose head is right by your chest.

he rasps your name, momentarily confused at your shift in position. he reaches for your bare arm and you resist the urge to shrug him off in your paranoid state. it doesn’t take long for him to work out what’s got you trembling, too familiar with them himself.

“nightmare?” at any other time, you’d be entranced by his rough cut morning voice.

you shrug, whispering back as you’re conscious of jack asleep just down the hall, “i’m alright, babe, go back to sleep.”

with a quiet groan as he stretches his limbs out to sit also, he brings a warm hand to your shoulder blades. it’s firm and consistent, a presence you crave.

“you can’t lie to your husband.” he smiles, trying his best to remind you that he’s not just a fleeting comfort.

you scoff, trying your best to sound braver than you feel, “yeah, cos he’s a profiler.”

“a profiler in love with you,” he affirms, “talk to me, honey. was it foyet? the silencer? piano man?”

your laugh is watery as he lists off evils from your real world. you shake your head, covering his free hand with your own to politely cut him off.

“s’none of them. just a nightmare.”

aaron smiles fondly, “yeah?”

“yeah.”

he’s almost incredulous as he muses, “i didn’t know we could get those anymore.”

again, you laugh, and pride blooms in his chest. he’s not exactly known for his humour, and it stokes something nice in him that he can elicit that chuckle from you, even through your tears. still, he notes the self-deprecating undertone to the sound, and moves to pull you further into him.

“don’t be embarrassed.”

you nudge him, “stop that, we’re not supposed to profile each other.”

“i can’t help it, i know you too well.”

shuddering lightly at the memory of your cold fear, you concede, “there are worse things.”

he agrees and locks you to his front as he eases both of you back down to the mattress, not bothering to fix your pillow as you lay across him like a bulletproof vest. that’s how aaron makes you feel in moments like these; bulletproof.

#🤍ebullientheart #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #bau!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #hurt/comfort #fluff #aaron hotchner x reader #fem!reader #aaron hotchner x bau!reader #aaron hotchner hurt/comfort

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sequinsmile-x · 4 months ago

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I Knew You'd Linger Like a Tattoo Kiss - Thigh Kisses

-x-

A series of unrelated one-shots and mini fics about the many types of kisses Aaron and Emily share.

-x-

Hi friends,

Here's another one of these prompts! This is another prompt from the lovely @sometimesitswho <3

Thank you to everyone who has sent prompts from the list - I will absolutely get around to them all. My aim with this is to write all of the ones from the list eventually.

Please see the masterlist for a full list of tags, and the list of prompts for this series.

-x-

Words: 2k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Aaron smiles as Jack presses his face against the window of Jess’s car and he returns his son’s enthusiastic wave as the car pulls off the drive and disappears from sight. He sighs contentedly and closes the front door, cursing himself under his breath when he checks the time on his watch. He was running late.

It was date night, the last before Emily gave birth to their daughter, and Aaron was looking forward to some already rare, about to be even rarer, alone time with his wife. She was exhausted and incredibly uncomfortable, and despite his offer that he would go and get her favourite food for dinner and bring it home, Emily was insistent on going out, her smile wry as she explained that she wanted to dress up and go to a restaurant before she became their daughter’s own personal restaurant.

He walks upstairs and into the bedroom, smiling at the sound of Emily’s humming, the nameless tune only slightly muffled by the closed bathroom door. He steps towards the closet with the aim of picking out what to wear that evening but he’s stopped in his tracks by the sound of a pained yelp replacing the humming followed by a loud curse.

“Fuck.”

He’s moving before he can think about it, bursting through the bathroom, entirely prepared to find his wife in labour, “Em, is it time…” he trails off at the sight of her sitting on the edge of the bath, one of her feet propped up next to her. She’s wearing one of her maternity bras and he can see a flash of her matching underwear, the majority of it hidden by her bump. His eyes drop to her hand, her razor glinting in the bathroom light, and the small smear of blood on her ankle.

“Damn it,” she grumbles, not looking up at him, “I can’t get a good angle on this,” she huffs, her bangs briefly flying upwards, pushed around by her irritation, “She’s in the way.”

He smiles at her and opens the medicine cabinet, grabbing the small first aid kit before he offers her a hand and encourages her over to the toilet, quickly pushing the seat closed so she can sit down, “You don’t have to shave sweetheart,” he says, kneeling on the bathroom floor and tugging her injured ankle into his lap, dabbing at the small cut that had already stopped bleeding, “You’re 9 months pregnant.”

“I do know that,” she grumbles, grimacing at the slight sting of the antiseptic wipe he traces back and forth over her ankle, “But it’s date night.”

He can’t help but smile up at her, love threatening to burst out of his chest at the slight pout on her face, “I know it is, baby,” he says, squeezing her ankle, his smile getting wider when her eyes meet his, “But you don’t have to do this for me.”

“I wasn’t doing it for you,” she replies, furrowing her brows, her arms crossed over the top of her bump, her hand instinctively soothing the spot where she can feel their daughter’s heel pressing up from inside of her, “I was doing it for me,” she says, sighing when he frowns, closing her eyes so she’s not looking at him when she carries on, embarrassment burning in her cheeks, “I just wanted to feel good about myself.”

At first, she’d loved the changes to her body, a soft smile on her face every time he’d catch her looking at herself in the mirror, her shirt tucked up under her breasts as she ran her hand up and down the curve of her belly. As the months went by and she got more uncomfortable, as her body started to feel less and less like her own, she struggled. She was self-conscious in a way she didn’t remember being since she was a teenager, and no matter how much Aaron told her that she was beautiful, no matter how much he made it clear how much he still wanted her, it didn’t help. All she’d wanted this evening was to go on a date with her husband and feel attractive, and it felt like a battle she had already lost because of her inability to get a good angle around her bump to shave her damn legs.

“Em-”

“I know it’s silly,” she says, clenching her teeth, irritation building in her chest in tandem with the tears burning in her eyes.

“It isn’t silly,” he says, leaning forward to press a kiss to her knee, smiling up at her, “I was going to offer to shave them for you.”

She frowns at him, her eyebrows pinching together as she tilts her head, “What?”

“If it will make you feel better,” he offers, “I can shave your legs for you.”

She hums thoughtfully, narrowing her eyes ever so slightly, the offer as tempting as it was adorable, “Do you know what you’re doing?”

He beams at her, his dimples carved out deeply in his cheeks as he stands up and kisses her forehead, “I’ve been shaving my face for thirty years-”

“A true crime against humanity-”

“I think I can figure it out,” he says, carrying on as if she hadn’t interrupted him, her love for her beard well established. He smiles as he picks up her razor from where she’d abandoned it on the side of the bath and a towel that he lays on the floor at her feet, “I’ll even use my fancy warming shaving foam.”

She presses her lips together, her upset at being unable to do this herself gone in an instant, chased away by his love for her. “Okay fine,” she says, smiling as he starts to fill the basin next to the toilet, “But be careful of my ankles. And my knees.”

He’s as gentle as ever with her as he carefully wets her left leg and then rubs shaving foam into her skin. She watches as his face pinches together with concentration, an expression she only used to see when he was hunched over paperwork or case files as they worked, as he drags the razor up her leg and then swirls it in the basin next to them before he repeats the action again and again. He dries her skin carefully with the towel, and she sighs contentedly as he switches over to the other leg and she places her hands on her bump, rubbing a soothing circle over where the baby was moving.

“How are my girls doing?” Aaron asks, smiling up at her before he returns his attention to her right leg.

“We’re okay,” she smiles, “She’s kicking a lot. I think she’s excited for date night.” She feels insecurity flood through her again as she thinks about their date, “Although that’s because she doesn’t have to figure out what tarp of a dress she has to wear tonight.”

He squeezes her knee at the self-depreciation in her voice and presses his lips together, “Em, you look gorgeous no matter what.”

She chuckles humourlessly, “On our first date I wore a dress I think would get me arrested for indecent exposure in some countries,” she grumbles, a smile flickering across her face as he raises his eyebrow at her, “Now everything that fits me could be used to cover the Potomac…or to hold the trash of our entire neighbourhood.”

He suppresses a laugh, knowing she’d be mad at him even though she’d been the one to make a joke, “You’d be beautiful in anything,” he says, repeating his earlier sentiment, a smile flickering across his face, “Even a trash bag.”

“If I’m pregnant much longer that might be my only option,” she replies dryly, tilting her head down to look at her bump, her skin shifting as her daughter moved beneath it, “You, Little Miss Hotchner, are being evicted in the next 7 days if you like it or not.” She was counting down the days to her scheduled induction but she hoped she’d go into labour naturally beforehand. She was as keen to no longer be pregnant as she was to meet her little girl, to see her face and smell her skin and feel the weight of her against her chest. It was something instinctual that she couldn’t fight if she wanted to, her impatience when it came to having her baby increasing with every passing day since she had hit full term. She looks at her husband, “It’s not just because I feel…not like myself. I wish she could just be here already. I want to hold her.”

“I know sweetheart,” he says, smiling at the explanation they both know is unnecessary. They often said that they could read each other's minds, something their friends often joked about too. So much between them didn’t need to be said, their understanding of each other primal, like something they’d both been born with. Something that had laid dormant until they met and got to know each other. Until they fell in love with each other. “You’ve made a good home for her,” he says, placing her razor down on the counter as he finishes his task, inspecting his work closely to make sure he hasn’t missed any areas, “She’s warm and cosy and safe,” he smiles as their eyes meet, “And that’s exactly what she’ll be when she’s in our arms too.”

He dries her right leg and he drops a kiss on her knee and then her thigh. He smiles against her skin when she gasps at the unexpected sensation, something she feels instead of sees. He switches over to her other thigh, leaving a trail of kisses until reaches the seam of her underwear, a small strip of it visible over her hip, his love a gentle tattoo against her skin.

“You’re beautiful,” he says again, kissing her bump, smiling when the baby kicks, “You too princess,” he stands up and kisses Emily soundly on the mouth, his hands on her cheeks as he holds her in place, “I love you.”

She hums, her hand tangling into his hair as she pulls him back in, fire catching in her blood, the first sparks of it flickering where the ghost of his kisses against her thighs still lingered. It never failed to amaze her that he could make her feel like this. That no matter what he could make her feel beautiful and sexy and desirable.

“I love you too,” she smiles and kisses him again, “Thank you for shaving my legs,” she says, her cheeks warm with embarrassment she doesn’t understand, “You did a good job. I might ask you to carry on doing it even after she’s here,” she jokes and he smiles before he leans in to kiss her.

“I’ll do whatever you want me to do,” he replies, barely pulling back far enough to speak, “You know that.”

She sinks her teeth into his lower lip, familiar desire licking at her insides again, “Maybe we should just stay here.”

He smiles and helps her up his hands in hers as she settles against him, their daughter pressed between them, “Let’s still go for dinner,” he says, kissing her, smirking when she pouts in disappointment again, “And then come back here for dessert.”

She beams at him and runs her fingers through his hair, “You’ve got a deal.”

She goes into labour at the restaurant, her waters breaking before they even get their appetizers. Aaron is grateful that he already had the hospital bag packed and ready in the trunk of the car, pleased that they didn’t have to go home to get it to then immediately leave for the hospital.

When their daughter is born in the early hours of the morning, bright pink and wailing as she’s passed into Emily’s shaking hands, her smile is wide as tears stream down her cheeks. Aaron tells her that she’s never been more beautiful and he takes a picture of them both the moment they are alone. Despite her exhaustion, and the remnants of the make-up she’d put on for their date night caught in her bottom lashes- the removal wipes the nurse had given her not quite catching all of it - and her hair stuck to her forehead with sweat, when he shows her the picture she can’t help but agree with him.

#hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #hotchniss fan fic #emily prentiss #hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #aaron x emily #hotchniss

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lostloveletters · 1 year ago

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A Long, Lonely Time (David Webster x Reader)

Summary: You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone, but when Webster returns to Easy Company, you find it difficult to reckon with the very real possibility of losing him again, maybe even for good.

Note: Gender neutral reader, and no descriptors are used. The draft script of episode 3 provides more background on Webster transferring into Easy Company, which isn’t explained in the show for some reason (a shame because they cut out some pretty great scenes), but I included a handful of the details here. This is based on the fictional portrayals in the HBO miniseries and not the real individuals. Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Hurt/angst with comfort. Mentions of Eugene Jackson’s death. Playing with the timeline of episode 8 a little bit. Probably some other historical inaccuracies. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Two days. David Webster had only been back for two days, and you kissed him.

Your crush on him had hibernated in his absence, frozen in a forest with the rest of you. It thawed as soon as you saw him for the first time in months.

The other members of Easy weren’t so quick to warm up to him again. No matter, it just gave you more time to spend with him. You appreciated how from the moment the two of you first bonded over your shared love of literature, he was genuinely interested in your thoughts and opinions, assuaging your fears that you’d be a lackluster companion to the Ivy Leaguer.

He could’ve taken the easy route as others with a privileged background like his had done and allowed his social status to get himself a cushy position. However, he, like Caption Nixon, inexplicably chose the rest of you. Unlike Nixon and yet just as inexplicable, he rejected any promotions. Odd, yet admirable, like when he’d approached Winters in Aldbourne after D-Day, requesting to transfer from Fox to Easy to put his skills as an assistant machine gunner to better use.

None of that mattered to your comrades anymore, but as a medic, you appreciated that he took recovering from being wounded seriously. You told him such, and he smiled, confessing that he had used his stint in the hospital for one selfish indulgence. Later, when the two of you were alone; he pulled a brown paper package from his pack, privately presenting you with a gift he got his hands on for you. Ripping back the wrapping, you beamed when you saw the cover of a brand new ASE copy of The Postman Always Rings Twice.

Your worn copy of Jane Eyre had been waterlogged from the snow and rendered illegible. New books were low priority in the Bois Jacques, so you were left without reading material for longer than you would’ve liked.

The book was the first time in what felt like years you’d received a gift. You had almost forgotten how nice it was, especially something so thoughtful. So you kissed him, impulsively, passionately, threading your fingers through his hair to pull him closer, your other hand gripping the book tightly.

He kissed you back with a tenderness that had long since become foreign to you and felt almost too overwhelming as a result. His lips were soft and warm compared to yours, chapped from weeks of unrelenting cold, but he was undeterred. His hands held your waist, his fingers gently pressing against the skin that’d been exposed as your untucked shirt had ridden up. You shuddered against him, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin–either the cold air, or his touch. Probably both.

Hearing the clamoring of nearby voices, you reluctantly broke the kiss.

“I don’t have anything to give you,” you lamented breathlessly.

His blue eyes seemed to sparkle when he smiled. “I think we’re even.”

“You know,” you began, turning the book over to glance at the synopsis, “all I ever heard when this came out was that it was dirty. Are you trying to tell me something?”

“Books aren’t dirty. It’s embarrassing that Boston even bans them the way they do.”

“Have you read it?”

“I haven’t, but that’s not the point. They’d ban Shakespeare if he were publishing today.”

“I don’t disagree with you,” you said, suppressing an amused smile, “but I only asked because I thought we could read it together, if you don’t mind the company.”

His expression softened. “I’d love that.”

Smiling, you leaned in for another kiss when the door opened, and the two of you jumped away from each other like the other was on fire.

You relaxed when you saw Roe standing in the doorway. He gave you an almost exasperated look, but that was all. For the moment.

“Webster,” Gene said, giving him a nod of acknowledgement before shifting his attention to you. “Will you sort through those supplies Luz got earlier? I gotta check on Lipton.”

“Sure,” you said with a nod. “Thanks again, Web–David, the book’s great.”

He smiled. “Of course.”

You followed Gene out of the room, walking side-by-side down the hallway until you were a decent distance from Webster and out of earshot from anyone who might otherwise eavesdrop. When your best friend stopped in his tracks, you mirrored him, flattering a bit beneath the weight of his disapproving glare.

“Are you crazy?” Gene scolded.

“He gave me a book. It’s not–don’t look at me like that.”

“However wounded he gets, it’s gonna be a lot worse for you.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t know. This ain’t the time or place.”

“There might not be another time or place,” you argued.

He sighed, either conceding to your argument or not finding it worth wasting any more breath over. For how long you’d known him, he could be impossibly difficult to read. “Just be careful, alright?”

Gene brought you to the recently delivered boxes of medical supplies, desperately needed weeks ago. Better late than never. You rifled through bandages and morphine, hands shaking a bit as you tried not to think about who might have still been there if it’d come in sooner. But Webster came back, even though you’d long been convinced you’d never see him again. At least if the worst happened, you wouldn’t have to wonder if your feelings for him were reciprocated.

The worst. You weren’t sure what, out of everything you’d seen the past few months, could have been considered the worst. Slow deaths, blown off limbs, or men whose bodies and psyche were trapped in that place between life and death. But you couldn’t let yourself spiral, not when so many people were relying on you. Hope seemed increasingly hard to find, and if indulging in whatever you had with David gave you the slightest bit more, you’d take it.

As if materializing from your thoughts of him, he walked into the room, silent concern etched in his face.

“There’s a patrol tonight,” he said. “We’re going across the river to bring back prisoners.”

“Who all’s going?” You figured if he was breaking the news to you, he’d be included. A sinking feeling dropped in your stomach when he answered, nevertheless.

“Most of 2nd platoon, except Liebgott and Malarkey.”

“It’s always 2nd platoon,” you muttered. “So you’re going as translator, then?”

He nodded. “The Krauts won’t expect us, at least that’s what they say.”

“I’m still gonna worry,” you said softly. “Just got you back.”

“Comes with the territory, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it does.”

“I’ll find you as soon as we’re done,” he promised.

“Can I give you a kiss for good luck?”

“I’ll never say no to that.”

You pressed your lips to his, craving the tenderness he’d given you earlier like it was missing from your veins. You hadn’t realized how much you needed it, soft words and tender touches that made you finally feel something other than numb and tired. Desire that would long remain unfulfilled had settled deep inside of you, and you desperately wished you and David were somewhere, anywhere else.

Holding onto him just as tightly as you were trying to keep your restraint, you went as far as he led you, open-mouthed kisses burning into your skin until a moan escaped your lips, nearly giving the two of you away.

“You’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met,” he said, giving you a quick kiss that felt achingly insufficient for what you wanted from him.

“Wait ‘til you get me in bed,” you joked.

He laughed, caressing your cheek. “I mean it. I’ve never known anyone like you.”

“Shame we had to meet this way, huh? But then we probably would’ve gone the rest of our lives not knowing each other at all.”

“That’d be a real tragedy.”

“You’re telling me.”

Far too soon for your liking, though you weren’t sure how much time had passed in all honesty, he made his leave as the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder and darkness began to fall.

You tried to keep your mind off of the patrol, assure yourself that you were worrying for nothing. Sitting on an empty couch, you finally got a better look at the book he presented you with, not having a chance to before. He’d written on the blank cover page, filled the whole thing and then some.

Beneath your name, carefully written in pencil, an inscription, detailing the longing he felt from your absence, his heart growing fonder of you with each passing day but struggling to assuage the loneliness and doubt that began to coil around it. The sound of your voice, your laughter, so vivid in his dreams that he’d wake up looking for you. He’d taken your friendship for granted, he claimed, but though the two of you met during less than ideal circumstances, getting shot was worth meeting you. Your vision began to blur with tears by the time you reached the end of his confession, ‘I missed you before we ever met, and now that we have, I miss you even more.’

You slammed the book shut, choking out a sob. It wasn’t fair. You’d just gotten him back, and in the blink of an eye you could lose him again, possibly for good. In that moment you understood better than ever why medics were supposed to keep their emotional distance, but the pain in your chest, the salty tears that stung your eyes were all worth it for the brief comfort you had found with him. You’d been so lonely otherwise, constantly surrounded by people but still feeling something missing until he returned.

Your name sounded muffled to the ringing in your ears, until Gene sat next to you, putting his arm around your shoulder.

“Don’t get too stuck in your head. Won’t be able to help no one like that,” Gene said, holding you in the hug. “Don’t think about it.”

“How can I not? It’s all around us–I can’t–”

“Yes, you can. You wouldn’t be here if you couldn’t.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I don’t feel like it sometimes. I feel like I’m just–”

“Just one person and it’s never gonna be enough.”

Something had happened in Bastogne, the last time he went back to the town. He never spoke of it, even when you offered to be an unjudging ear to spill his thoughts to, but you could tell it affected him deeply, even still. Knowing he was speaking from experience was an almost painful comfort.

“Why don’t you get some rest? I’ll be up,” he said.

“You sure?”

He nodded.

When he left, you set the book aside, silently promising yourself that you wouldn’t read it without Webster. If he didn’t return, it’d stay with you, unread until you met your own demise. An unnecessarily dramatic gesture to only yourself, you hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

The following hours found you in and out of sleep, almost unable to discern your erratic dreams with troubling reality. Footsteps and voices muddled together into unintelligible ramblings that you couldn’t help interpret as the worst in your near fugue state. Your worry was laced with frustration at letting the situation cause you so much distress. You were a medic, after all. You were supposed to be prepared for this.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel a momentary wave of relief crash over you when Webster walked into the room.

“Thank god,” you whispered, throwing your arms around him and kissing his cheek.

His embrace was stiff, awkward, and the far away expression on his face gave you pause.

“David, what happened?”

“Jackson’s dead. It was his own grenade. He didn’t wait long enough. It just…”

“Oh my god.”

“He didn’t die right away.”

“Why didn’t someone get me? Maybe I could’ve–”

“By the time Sergeant Martin got Doc Roe it was already too late. There was nothing Doc could do—nothing you could’ve done,” he said quietly, before adding, “I’m glad you didn’t see it.”

“I’ve seen worse by now.”

“Why add onto it?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too. That I didn’t write to you, that I didn’t tell you sooner how I felt about you, but it’s no use dwelling on all of that now,” he said. “It can’t change anything, and no matter how sorry we are, it won’t bring Jackson back, or anyone else, for that matter.”

It was settling in, that same bitterness that’d made its home in the bones of your comrades. A taste in your mouth that could be mistaken for blood by anyone else, but you knew it all too well. Your heart ached at seeing it finally get to Webster, too.

“Do you wanna just sit for a while?” you asked.

He nodded. The two of you settled onto the couch, his head in your lap as you ran your fingers through his hair, gently tracing the soft lines that ran across his forehead, betraying that despite his closed eyes, his mind was still racing.

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted to spend the rest of the night with you,” he mumbled after a while, his eyes fluttering open.

“David, it’s alright,” you said, your thumb brushing back and forth across his cheekbone, trying to pull his mind out of the depths you knew too well. “I’m glad just to do this. I’m kind of crazy about you.”

“Kind of?”

“Yeah, just a little bit.”

“What would I have to do to make you a fully-fledged lunatic?”

“Horrible, indecent things that would get me sent home in shame.”

He laughed. “But crazy about me?”

“Absolutely wild.”

He took your hand from his face, kissing your palm before holding it in his.

You weren’t sure when you’d fallen asleep, but you awoke the next morning with an unforgiving crick in your neck, and the thought of the recently delivered aspirin tempted you for a split second before you realized you’d woken up by yourself.

He probably slipped out at some point, returning to his bunk so neither of you would get into any trouble. It didn’t stop you from asking around for him until you finally caught him alone.

“Hey, where’d you run off to?” you asked.

“Sink wants another patrol,” Webster told you, watching cautiously as your hands balled into fists at your side.

You fought back tears of frustration. “Then I wanna go too. I’ll make sure nothing like what happened last night happens again. Where’s Captain Winters? I’ll–”

“Winters is going to tell him a phony story about how we went back but couldn’t get any more prisoners.”

You paused, your brain taking a moment to process the information before you let out a weak laugh in disbelief, the tears that’d welled up in your eyes rolling down your cheeks regardless. Maybe you were delirious. Or sleep deprived. And your neck still hurt. “That man is a fucking saint.”

Webster smiled, putting his arm around you and pressing a kiss to your temple. “He is. Especially since that leaves me free the rest of the night.”

“You know, this handsome guy just gave me a brand new copy of The Postman Always Rings Twice.”

“Sounds like he has good taste.”

You smiled. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

#david webster x reader #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #david webster #band of brothers imagine #anyway read the postman always rings twice! or watch the movie the one with lana turner not the other one #do you ever think about how a book with a dysfunctional and murderous semi sadomasochistic relationship was given out by the us government #webster and the reader sure will!

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