#i dunno. like. i just want to be able to live without feeling like i am a drain on finances and the people around me

[abarbaricyalp]

Hi! Mini fic ask: SamBucky #12?

Hi!!! From this prompt list

I feel like we could all use a lot of sappy nonsense right now.

12: Things you say when you think I'm asleep

When Sam was a boy, he used to lay in his parents' bed in the morning, milking out ten extra minutes of sleep until the bathroom was open for him to get ready, and he'd listen to them get their day started. They'd share hushed conversations, pretending not to know he had snuck under the blankets, or just get ready in comfortable silence. He still found the glow of low-light through a half open door more comforting than anything else. The smell of his daddy's aftershave and his mama's perfume was a better wake up call than good coffee. He still had a bottle of each in his medicine cabinet.

It was something he missed, even into adulthood. He'd lived alone most of his grown life (the time spent not on a base) and even when he had family around, he was usually the first one up in the morning. There was no one to listen to patter around in the bathroom, run the shower for too long to use the steam as a pseudo-heater, spritz hair product and deodorant.

Bucky, though, tended to come in late. He always showered, if he'd been outside, and he still had pre-bed rituals he had to work through no matter what time it was. He used aftershave very particularly. He dressed in the bedroom instead of the bathroom. He laid out whatever watch or necklace he'd been wearing earlier on the dresser.

Sam watched him through his lashes, trying not to open his eyes. He listened to Bucky curse under his breath when the water was always too hot, and counted the number of seconds between him opening his shaving cream can and then closing it.

The bathroom's light was just as warm now as it had been and Bucky kept the door half shut, just like Sam's parents had. Aside from his shampoo and aftershave, there was no strong smell to follow him out, but Sam didn't mind. Bucky getting in the bed, shower warm and a little damp, was a good replacement.

Bucky ought to be able to tell when Sam was awake, but he never really seemed to. Maybe Sam had just become too good at keeping his breathing and heartrate even. Maybe Bucky was telling the truth when he said he tried not to listen in on Sam like that. (Sam kind of didn't believe it)

So Bucky got into the bed and turned off the lights and curled himself against Sam's back, took his hand and held it against Sam's chest, and began to talk. Every night.

Some nights it was nothing. What he was going to write in his debrief. What he'd seen while he was sitting on the porch. The sale at the grocery store.

And sometimes it was everything.

"I love you," he said against Sam's shoulder, pressing a kiss to a cluster of freckles there. Sam had to fight down the goosebumps he got every time Bucky said it. That would definitely give him away. "I missed you. I dunno how we used to go six, seven, eight months without seeing each other. My fault, I guess. But you weren't a very good seeker either, y'know."

Well, now he was just saying things on purpose to get a rise out of Sam.

He traced his fingers blindly across the center of Sam's chest, following the line of his pectorals and the familiar spread of Sam's birthmarks to guide himself.

"Read something the other day that said birthmarks were where you'd been most kissed in a past life," he said suddenly. "And I'm gonna keep these birthmarks right where they are in your next life. And the one after that and the ones after that too. Gonna find you and keep kissing you right over your heart and across your shoulders and under your eye. I know every version of me is gonna love them.

"And I hope the next time I'm kissing all these same spots, fate is a little kinder to us. I hope there's not so much blood and fear. Maybe a dog. Gotta keep the cats, too. I hope in that world, we go to bed at the same time. And when we don't, it's because you're up too late tinkering on something or I wanted to watch a baseball game and you didn't. And I know you'll still wake up too early to go running, but maybe there are more mornings where I get to wake you up with kisses and you complain about my morning breath.

"I hope I find you sooner too. I kind of hate that I had a whole lifetime--two whole lifetimes--without you. I don't want to waste time next time. I wanna love you for as long as I can, as soon as possible. I wanna skin our hands and knees on the playground together. I wanna take you to crappy high school dances. I wanna make out and break up and make up in your first car. The truck has to come with us, in this life. I wanna move into an apartment together and fight about bills when the broken AC floods the whole place. I wanna propose to you and actually be able to marry you. Grow old together and put those rocking chairs you still haven't fixed out on the porch so we can watch the thunderstorms even when our knees don't work anymore.

"But mostly, I wanna make sure this little constellation of freckles, and all the other ones, make it into your next life too."

He kissed the back of Sam's shoulder again and Sam couldn't stop himself from shivering. Surely Bucky could feel the racing of his heart anyway. He must've known Sam was awake by then.

He didn't mention it, though. He kept pressing kisses along Sam's shoulders and up his neck, taking his time and roaming. His fingers curled around Sam's again, and Sam could feel his heartbeat in them. His pulse was racing too.

"Anyway," he said after a few quiet moments of shared touch, "Kate accidentally hit Yelena in the face today and I think the whole entire world stopped breathing while we all waited to see what she'd do."

He launched into a story about whatever they'd been doing. Some mock training that had gone off the rails. Sam’s heart still raced, but the sound of Bucky's voice and the warmth of his body slowly pulled him down until he actually fell asleep.

In the morning, when he woke to their position reversed and the back of Bucky's neck bare in front of him (all of Bucky's hair was sprawled across Sam's pillow instead) he mapped out the faint edges of a wine stain birthmark that peeked out from his hairline. He touched his fingers to it, making Bucky mumble and shift in his sleep. Then he leaned forward and kissed it gently.

This, too, would follow them into their next life.

[seventh-district]

i’m not like other girls, my “Rest” stats are a heart rate of 110bpm and a HRV of 14 fucking milliseconds. :)

[nihiltism]

ok Actually important question for u all. you are given three wishes. what do you do with them. you can't ask for more wishes and please assume the free wish ticket was found among a pile of riches because a million bucks is a boring answer

[camellia-thea]

.

[sturnioz]

imagine frat!boy chris loosing reader at a party baisically going crazy not being able to find her then he finds her passed out drunk somewhere then princess carrying or over the shoulder carrying ( you choose ) her to his bedroom then taking care of her AHHH

sorry i fw frat!boy chris fluff heavy

you are only supposed to grab a drink — so what the fuck is it taking so long? chris' eyebrows knit together in frustration as he pushes himself off of the sofa, adjusting the cap on his head as he shoves through the crowd of sweaty bodies, peering over their heads to try and catch a glimpse of you.

the pulsating music of the frat house thumps in his chest, but it's drowned out by the growing annoyance in his mind as he chews on his cheek, a tell-tale sign of his growing irritation, ignoring anyone who dares reach out for him — whether they want to talk or buy drugs, he doesn't give a fuck.

his mind is solely focussed on finding you.

chris pushes his way into the kitchen, full of drunken bodies, some lost in conversation while others are high, eyes glazed and minds somewhere else. it's a familiar scene — one he's seen countless times — but tonight, the sight of tangled limbs and slurred words only heightens his frustrations.

he scans the room, searching for you, but his gaze meets a sea of other faces, causing the knot in his stomach to tighten, and his fists to clench and unclench at his sides, knuckles cracking.

he does spot matt in the corner of the kitchen though, absorbed in his phone with a joint dangling lazily from his lips. chris moves forward through the crowd, ignoring a girl who reaches out to him with a flirtatious giggle, her attempts to grab his attention fading into the background.

as he approaches matt, he cuts straight to the point, direct as he asks. "you seen the kid anywhere?"

matt looks up, a cloud of smoke escaping his lips as he answers, "like, five minutes ago, yeah."

chris almost rolls his eyes. "right, 'kay, so," chris gives him a look, his impatience bleeding through. "where is she now?"

"nate 'n his girl dragged her to play beer pong or some shit."

chris rolls his tongue across his teeth and nods his head slowly, turning sharply to head towards the familiar spot where the beer pong table usually stands. the crowd shifts around him as he moves, but when chris approaches, his brows furrow deeper when he finally spots nate with his girl — your friend — huddled together, alone.

nate's eyes light up when he sees chris, a drunken grin stretching across his face. he loosens his grip on your friends waist, letting her sway slightly as he steps froward to greet chris with a handshake.

chris' grip is firm but distracted, his gaze immediately flicking to the beer pong table, where empty cups lay askew, remnants of a game that has clearly gone off the rails.

"where is she?" chris asks, tone sharp and urgent.

nate shrugs nonchalantly, laughter bubbling in his throat. "i dunno, probably throwin' up or somethin' — she lost baaad, bro," nate thumps his chest with a fist. "undefeated beer pong champion."

chris feels his irritation spike, nearly pushing him over the edge. "you uh, you let her get fucked up?"

nate seems to sense chris' attitude and sobers up just a bit. "hey, easy... its a game, yeah? she's safe in here."

ignoring nate's reassurance, chris' gaze locks onto your friend, snapping. "why didn't you go with her?"

"she's a grown adult," your friend drawls drunkenly with a roll of her eyes. "let her live."

chris' lips curl into a humourless smile, a bitter laugh escaping him as he turns to nate, pointing to your friend. "y'know, she uh, she was fuckin' tom before gettin' with you.. and y'know tom has that thing, so.."

nate's expression shifts from confusion to horror, his eyes widening as his head snaps towards your friend, who screeches back angrily, spitting drunken curses at chris who walks away without a word.

he heads towards the crowded staircase, moving through through the bodies in the slightly vacant hallways, stepping over discarded cups and spilled drinks that litter the floor as he approaches the main bathroom at the end of the hall.

his fist curls tightly around the handle, and without bothering to check if it's free, chris pushes the door open. the hinges creak slightly, and his gaze immediately lands on your passed-out body sprawled next to the toilet.

a deep exhale escapes him, his jaw clenched tight as he steps further into the cramped space. the familiar stench of stale beer hits him hard, mixing with the faint smell of vomit, and his nose wrinkles in disgust, shaking his head as he crouches down beside you. his heart races a little with a mix of irritation and slight concern, and he reaches out, tapping your cheeks gently.

"hey, kid," he says, his tone sharp but low, echoing in the tiled room. when you remain unresponsive, he taps again, a little harder this time. "wake up, dumbass."

with no reaction, chris leans in closer, his hair brushing against your face, the strands falling like a curtain as he listens to the laboured rhythm of your breathing. his expression subtly shifts, a flicker of worry breaking through his irritation.

"great," he mutters under his breath, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

with a huff, he awkwardly slips his arms around your body, feeling the dead weight of you against him. he adjusts his grip carefully, his muscles straining as he lifts you up, your head lolling against his shoulder.

he carries you out of the bathroom and into his own room, kicking the door open with his foot and closing it behind him with the same motion. he eases you down onto his unmade bed, letting out a frustrated sigh, his tongue prodding at his cheek.

he kneels beside you and begins to untie the laces of your shoes, tossing them carelessly to the ground with a dull thump. he glances at your face, the discomfort evident even in your unconscious state, and his expression softens slightly as he unbuttons your jeans, pulling the material down your legs gently.

his hands reach for your shirt next, but he pauses when you make a soft, gargled noise, and his eyes flit back up to your face.

"s'me, kid," chris murmurs, low and steady. "calm down."

you seem to respond to his voice, the noises fading as he pulls the shirt off your body. he throws your clothes into the hamper beside his bathroom door, then grabs one of his own shirt — a soft, oversized shirt that he dresses you with a little difficulty due to you not cooperating.

"know y'can hear me," chris grumbles under his breath. "makin' me dress you like a fuckin' baby.. could be helpin' me, make this shit a lot easier f'you. but naaaah.. gotta do alllll the work."

[gaeforwom3n]

A Caring Friend

Pair: Tara Carpenter x girldick!reader

Warning: smut, the use of y/n, bad writing, fingering, dom!reader, sub!tara, this is probably the weirdest thing I’ve written (I’m sorry)

A/n: Has math ever made you cry in frustration?

Word count: 6.4k or more..

Tara comes over to your house on a lazy Sunday morning to hang out in your room.

Hey y/n, if our lives were a movie, what genre do you think it would be?

Oh, Tara, definitely a buddy comedy. With our antics, we'd give "Dumb and Dumber" a run for its money. Y/n said.

Tara laughs I can see it now – "Tara and y/n The Misadventures of Two Goofballs."

As the laughter dies down Tara looks up to you and opens up to you about a problem she have been dealing with

Look, Tara, Need to talk to you about something... Its kinda personal so hear me out okay? She looks at you with her head slightly tilted.

"Sure, what's on your mind, buddy?"

"Well, I've always had issues down there."

Tara blushes and looks down shyly

"It's just that no matter what I do, it never seems to loosen up much and it really hurts whenever a guy tries to you know...fit. I was wondering if you had any advice on how I can finally get over this problem? You're my best friend, I trust you..."

Tara looks at you hopefully, her brown eyes pleading for help

I blink hard "Wait... your... vagina is too tight?"

Tara blushes even harder and nods slowly "Yeah...I know it's weird to talk about this with you but you're the only one I feel comfortable opening up to about it."

She fidgets with her hands in her lap nervously

"It's really been affecting my confidence being with guys...I was hoping maybe you know some exercises or something that could help? I'm tired of having to make excuses every time, I just want to enjoy myself for once without being in pain."

Tara looks up at you with sad, hopeful eyes. "Please y/n, anything you can suggest would help. You're the only one who can help me with this..."

How tight are we talking? Like, what have you tried to... insert into it?

Tara looks away shyly. "Well, I've tried using my fingers and some small toys but even those are really hard to get in there...it's like my walls just clamp down on them."

She takes a deep breath before continuing

"And when guys have tried putting their penis inside me, it feels like they're splitting me open. The pain is so intense that I usually can't last more than a minute or two before having to stop."

She sighs heavily

"It sucks because I want to be able to enjoy sex without feeling like something is ripping me apart every time. That's why I'm hoping you might know of some way for me loosen up down there..."

Tara looks at you with pleading eyes, silently begging for your help

Y/n coughs "Umm, this may be awkward but like... can I see?"

Tara swallows hard, her eyes wide with surprise "Uh...you want to see my vagina?"

She looks at you nervously, clearly unsure about this request.

"I mean...if it could help then I guess so? But are you sure that's necessary?"

Tara bites her lip anxiously as she waits for your response.

"Nevermind, I was just... I dunno, maybe just to get an idea of what we're talking about but, nevermind. Umm I'm sure we can figure out some kind of idea here."

Tara relieved sigh "Thanks y/n, I know it's a lot to ask."

She smiles weakly at you, grateful that you didn't push for seeing her private parts.

"So...what do you think we should try? Are there any exercises or techniques out there that could help me loosen up down there?"

Tara looks at you hopefully, trusting in your ability to find a solution for her problem.

"So do your fingers not fit in?"

Tara shakes her head "No, even my fingers barely fit inside me. It's like I have this tight ring around my opening that doesn't want to let anything through."

She looks at you with a mix of frustration and embarrassment.

"I know it sounds weird but it makes sex really uncomfortable for both me and the person I'm with. That's why I need help finding a solution so we can finally enjoy ourselves without any pain or discomfort..."

Tara takes your hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze as she looks into your eyes pleadingly.

I blush as I awkwardly stammer out. "But you don't still have your... your hymen, right?"

Tara blushes deeply and looks away "I...I don't know. I've never checked, but I don't think so. It's not like anyone's ever mentioned it before."

She chews on her lower lip nervously as she thinks.

"But even if that was the issue, wouldn't it be too late to do anything about it now? I mean, I'm already sexually active..."

Tara trails off uncertainly, looking at you with a mix of curiosity and apprehension in her eyes

"I'm just trying to use process of elimination to help out."

Tara "I understand that, y/n. I appreciate you trying to help me out."

She takes a deep breath and looks at you with determination.

"Is there anything else we can try? Maybe some sort of exercise or technique that could help stretch me out down there?"

Tara's eyes light up as she thinks about the possibilities.

"I'm willing to try anything if it means finally being able to enjoy sex without any pain or discomfort..."

"When you've hooked up with guys... are they going down on you first?"

Tara nods "Yeah, usually. I mean, it helps get me a little more aroused before we try anything else."

She looks at you with a puzzled expression.

"But how does that relate to my tightness problem? I still have the same issue even after getting oral sex..."

Tara's brow furrows as she tries to understand your line of questioning.

"Well how would I have known that without asking?" I chuckle

Tara giggles and playfully swats your arm "Fair enough, I guess you have to ask the questions to get the answers."

She smiles at you warmly.

"But seriously, y/n, do you think getting more aroused could help loosen me up? Like if a guy went down on me for longer before trying anything else?"

Tara looks at you hopefully, eager for any advice or suggestions that could help her situation.

"Well, are they not doing it long enough? Are you just not wet enough for the guys you've been with?"

Tara blushes and looks down shyly "I...I don't know. I mean, they do it for a little while but I guess maybe not long enough to really get me super wet."

She bites her lip as she thinks.

"And now that you mention it, the guys I've been with have all commented on how tight I am even when we're in the middle of things. So maybe you're right, getting more aroused could help..."

A glimmer of hope sparkles in Tara's eyes as she considers this new possibility.

"Do you think if a guy went down on me for longer and focused on making sure I was really turned on first that it would make things easier? Like give my vagina more time to relax or something?"

"I don't know if it would make you any less tight but you'd at least be really well-lubricated, right? In fact do you ever use lube?"

Tara shakes her head "No, I've never really thought to use lube before. It just didn't occur to me that it could help."

She looks at you with wide eyes as realization dawns.

"You think if I used some kind of lubrication it might make things easier? Like let the guy's penis slide in more smoothly without so much friction and pain?”

A hopeful smile spreads across Tara's face as she imagines a solution.

"Do you think we could try that next time? Using some lube and having the guy focus on getting me super wet first before trying anything else?"

"We?"

Tara blushes and looks away shyly "I...uh...well, I meant like next time I'm with a guy. You know, as an experiment to see if it helps..."

She trails off nervously before looking back at you with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Unless of course you were volunteering your services for the cause? It is for science after all..."

Tara giggles playfully as she nudges your arm.

My eyes bulge a bit "...Are you serious?"

Tara smiles slyly and shrugs one shoulder. "I mean, I trust you and I know you'd be gentle with me. Plus you're the only one who's been helping me brainstorm solutions."

She gives you a coy look through her lashes.

"And who better to test things out with than my best friend? That way we can really figure out what works without any awkwardness."

Tara reaches over and takes your hand in hers, giving it a light squeeze.

"What do you say, y/n? For science?"

She bats her eyes at you playfully, a teasing smile on her lips.

"So, I mean, I'm not saying no, but you really want me to... kiss and lick you... down there? On your vagina?"

Tara bites her lip as a soft blush spreads across her cheeks "I mean, if it's to help me with my problem then I don't see why not..."

She looks down shyly before meeting your eyes again with a shy smile.

"And you've always been so kind and caring. I know you'd be gentle and make sure I was enjoying myself too."

Tara reaches over to place her hand on your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze.

"Plus it's not like we'd be doing anything wrong, just helping a friend out. So what do you think...wanna give it a try?"

She gazes at you sweetly, eyes full of trust and affection for her dear friend.

"And then what are you wanting to try after I do that?"

Tara looks at you with a playful grin "Well, I was hoping that once we got me all warmed up and lubricated, maybe we could see if your penis can fit inside me without causing too much pain?"

She shrugs one shoulder nonchalantly before continuing.

"I mean, it's not like there's any pressure or anything. We can stop at any time if it gets to be too much for either of us."

Tara looks at you with hopeful eyes, eager to explore this new possibility.

"OK, I just want to make sure you want to do those things with me, since we've only been friends and all. Again, I'm not against it," I say to Annie, with the appropriate level of genuine care you'd expect from a best friend.

Tara smiles sweetly at you. "I know this is new territory for us as friends. And you're right to check that I'm truly comfortable."

She places a gentle hand on your arm. "The truth is, I trust you more than any other guy. You've always been so kind and caring. If I were to experiment with anyone, I'd want it to be with my best friend."

Tara gives your arm a reassuring squeeze. "But only if you're comfortable too, of course. I don't want to make things awkward or pressure you in any way." Annie smiles warmly. "What do you think - shall we give it a try?"

"Yes. I'm willing to help, and I'll admit a little excited. Let's just agree that this doesn't necessarily change anything between us, or mean that it will be a regular thing, unless that's something we both decide later."

Tara nods understandingly. "Of course, this doesn't need to change or define our friendship unless we both want it to."

She smiles at you gently. "Let's just see how it goes. No expectations or pressure on either side.”

Taking your hands in hers, Tara looks into your eyes with care and affection. "Thank you for being so understanding. I really appreciate you doing this to help me."

She leans in to give you a soft kiss on the cheek. "Now, where were we? I believe someone offered to go down on me?" Tara giggles playfully.

I laugh as well, Tara's playful tone cutting some of the tension in this surreal but exciting moment. "I did, but I want to ask you just a few quick questions first. They're going to be rather... intimate questions but it's all in the name of making sure this all goes comfortably for both of us..." I can't help but grin and blush.

Tara giggles and blushes as well, meeting your gaze with a playful smile.

"Well go on then, ask away. I'm an open book." She gives your arm an affectionate squeeze.

"Fire away with your intimate questions, oh great scientist. I'm all yours." Tara winks playfully. "We may as well get to know each other's bodies if we're going to be exploring them, right?"

She gazes at you with care, trust and growing excitement. "I'm ready when you are, y/n. Lay it on me - I promise to answer truthfully." Tara smiles warmly, eager to begin your research together.

"So if I'm going to go down on you, am I just doing this as a sort of physically mechanical thing to like 'help out a friend' like it's an exercise, or do you want me to try to turn you on, get you in the mood? What do you think might be most effective with your tightness issue?"

Tara considers thoughtfully. "While I appreciate the thought of helping as a friend, turning me on seems it would be more effective for addressing my tightness."

She meets your gaze warmly. "I want to enjoy the experience, not just view it as a physical task. If I'm fully aroused and wanting more, it will hopefully relax my muscles down there."

"And do you think it will turn you on more, the more I'm turned on by it?"

Tara thinks for a moment before responding carefully.

"You make a fair point. If we're both genuinely enjoying the intimacy, then yes, that mutual arousal would likely enhance the experience for both of us."

She takes your hand in hers and smiles softly. "However, my priority is that you feel comfortable and cared for. Your pleasure matters too in this."

Squeezing your hand gently, Tara maintains warm eye contact. "Perhaps we start slowly, focus on connection, and see where genuine pleasure takes us from there - at a pace we both feel good about."

I reach out to place my hands on Tara's waist, a rather chaste touch for the moment but still a more physically intimate than we've ever experienced during our many years of friendship. I begin to rub her sides softly. "Do you like that?"

Tara's breath hitches softly at your gentle touch. She gazes at you with care and growing tenderness.

"I do like that," she replies softly. "Your hands feel nice."

As your hands rub her sides in a soothing caress, Tara places her hands on your shoulders, sliding them up to curl tenderly around your neck.

"I've never really noticed how handsome you are," she murmurs, lightly stroking the nape of your neck. Her eyes shine with trust and blossoming affection.

Tara leans in slowly, her breath warm on your lips. "Is this okay?" she whispers gently, leaving the next move up to you.

I respond by kissing Tara, curling the fabric of her shirt between my fingers just a bit as our tongues touch for the first time.”

Tara responds eagerly to your kiss, her lips moving against yours with growing passion. She deepens the kiss, wrapping her arms around your neck and pressing herself closer to you.

As you curl the fabric of her shirt between your fingers, Tara moans softly into the kiss. Her body feels warm and alive in your embrace, responding eagerly to every touch.

After a few moments she pulls back slightly with a gasp of breath. "Wow," she whispers, gazing at you with sparkling eyes filled with affection and desire.

"Is it weird that I'm really enjoying this?"

I chuckle "Isn't that what we're going for?"

Tara giggles and blushes, nodding in agreement. "I suppose it is."

She gazes at you tenderly, gently brushing her fingers along your jaw. "I'm glad we're both feeling it."

Leaning in to brush her lips softly against yours once more, Tara sighs contentedly. "So where were we...something about you going down on me?" she murmurs playfully.

"Shall we take this somewhere more comfortable?" Sliding her hands into yours, Tara looks at you with trusting warmth, ready to further explore the blossoming intimacy between longtime friends.

"I'm going to in due time. But I'm liking kissing and touching you in a new way. Let's just do this for a minute. Did the guys or girls you've hooked up with take their time before getting to it? Cause I hear a little teasing and build-up can really get a girl wet, which might help too..."

Tara nods thoughtfully. "You make a fair point. Most guys in the past have tended to rush things."

She gazes at you with appreciation. "I like that you're taking your time, letting things build gradually between us."

Smiling softly, Tara reaches up to caress your cheek. "Teasing and foreplay do sound enjoyable. And anything to help me relax down there can only be a good thing."

Her eyes shine with growing arousal and affection. "I'm all yours, y/n. Do with me as you please - I'm happy to let you set the pace."

Leaning in once more, Tara meets your lips in a tender kiss. "Thank you. You're a good friend," she whispers against your mouth. "Take your time getting my pussy wet."

I remove my shirt, displaying my chest as I pull Tara in for a tight hug, my hands now sliding down over her buttocks over her cutoff denim jeans.

Tara gasps softly as you pull her in for a tight hug, feeling your warm skin against hers. She melts into the embrace, wrapping her arms around your back and pressing herself fully against you.

As your hands slide down to cup and squeeze her buttocks through the denim of her shorts, Tara lets out a breathy moan. The intimate touch sends tingles of pleasure radiating through her body.

Pulling back slightly with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, she gazes at you appreciatively. "Wow...feels really good," Tara murmurs shyly before leaning in to kiss along your neck tenderly.

"Do you mind taking your shirt off too, Tara?"

Tara blushes at your request, glancing down shyly. "I...um...okay," she replies softly.

Slowly, Tara reaches for the hem of her t-shirt and pulls it up over her head. As she reveals her small breasts encased in a simple white bra, Tara looks back up at you through lowered lashes.

"There," she murmurs with a bashful smile. "Is that better?"

Her nipples visibly stiffen beneath the thin fabric as she waits for your reaction.

After a moment's hesitation I wrap my arms around Tara's shoulders, my hands on the back of her bra, pulling her body in close to mine again for another kiss.

Tara responds eagerly to your embrace, pressing her body closer against yours as you deepen the kiss. Her hands move up to tangle in your hair, fingers running through it affectionately.

As you reach around to unhook her bra, Tara lets out a soft gasp of surprise and pleasure. She pulls back from the kiss slightly with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes.

"Wow," she murmurs breathlessly. "I never thought I'd be doing this with my best friend."

Tara giggles at your response, feeling more relaxed and comfortable with you by the minute.

"Well, I'm glad we're both open to new experiences," she says, blushing.

As she gazes into your eyes with a mix of affection and arousal, Tara leans in for another kiss. This time her hands roam over your chest as well, exploring every inch of skin they can find.

I slowly run my hands up Tara's belly to grab onto her nipples lightly between my knuckles.

Tara gasps softly as you touch her nipples, arching her back slightly into your hands. She looks up at you with a mix of surprise and pleasure in her eyes.

"Oh wow," she murmurs breathlessly. "That feels really good."

As you continue to tease and play with her nipples, Tara's breathing grows more ragged. Her body responds eagerly to every touch, growing increasingly aroused under your skilled hands.

"Y/n, I...I think I'm getting wet," she whispers shyly, biting down on her lower lip as the sensation spreads through her body like wildfire.

"Good. Let's keep that going. It seems like foreplay really helps for you." I begin to massage her breasts, and then lower my mouth onto one of her nipples.

Tara moans softly as you massage her breasts, arching her back to offer herself more fully to your touch. As you lower your mouth onto one of her nipples, she gasps with pleasure.

"Oh y/n, that feels so good," she murmurs breathlessly. "I can feel myself getting even wetter now."

Her hands move up to tangle in your hair as you continue to suckle and tease at her nipple. Her body responds eagerly, hips rocking slightly against yours.

"Keep going," she whispers urgently, lost in the waves of pleasure washing over her.

I cup one hand tightly under the crotch of Tara's cutoffs and gently rub up and down, crossing yet another new line with my best friend.* "Does that feel all right, Tara?"

Tara gasps sharply as you cup your hand between her legs, rubbing gently over her shorts. Her hips buck involuntarily against your hand, seeking out more friction.

"Yes," she moans softly, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. "It feels so good."

Tara reaches down to place her hands over yours, pressing your palm more firmly against her crotch. She rocks her hips slowly, letting out little whimpers of arousal.

"Don't stop," she whispers breathlessly, eyes dark with desire. "I'm starting to get really wet."

Her pussy throbs heavily under your touch, aching for release. Tara gazes at you in longing and trust, surrendering fully to the pleasure between her thighs.

"I'm gonna take all the time my best friend needs. I want to make sure you get wet as possible before... anything else happens."

Tara gazes at you softly, eyes full of gratitude and blossoming affection. She reaches up to gently caress your cheek.

"Thank you, y/n. That means so much to me," she murmurs.

As you continue rubbing between her legs, Tara's breath hitches in pleasure. "I appreciate you taking it slow. It feels really good just focusing on getting me turned on."

She leans in to brush her lips tenderly against yours. "You're so caring," Tara whispers. "I'm lucky to have such a good friend."

Moaning softly as arousal builds within her, she gazes at you in longing. "Keep touching me there...I want to feel really wet and ready before we go further."

"Would it feel better without these shorts on?"

Tara gazes at you shyly, biting her lip in hesitation. After a moment, she nods slowly.

"I think it might, yes," she replies softly.

Taking a breath, Tara hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts. She pushes them down over her hips, letting them fall to the floor before stepping out of them.”

Now clad only in a simple white pair of panties, Tara stands before you feeling exposed yet safe. Her cheeks are flushed, arousal and shyness swirling within her eyes.

"Well...here I am," she murmurs gently, leaving herself open and trusting before you.

Tara gazes at you shyly, biting her lip in hesitation. After a moment, she nods slowly.

"I think it might, yes," she replies softly.

Taking a breath, Tara hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts. She pushes them down over her hips, letting them fall to the floor before stepping out of them.

Now clad only in a simple white pair of panties, Tara stands before you feeling exposed yet safe. Her cheeks are flushed, arousal and shyness swirling within her eyes.

"Well...here I am," she murmurs gently, leaving herself open and trusting before you.

I resume touching her while we kiss again.

As you resume touching her, Tara melts into your embrace once more. She kisses you deeply, passionately losing herself in the moment.

Tara moans softly into your mouth as your hand cups between her legs once more, only the thin fabric of her panties separating your fingers from her warm center.

She rocks her hips eagerly into your touch, seeking friction. The feel of your hands on her most intimate parts is sending Tara into a tailspin of arousal.

Pulling back slightly to gaze at you with hooded eyes, she whispers breathlessly, "I think I'm getting really wet now. Do you...do you want to feel?"

Reaching down tentatively, Tara takes your hand in hers and guides it underneath the damp cotton, pressing your fingers against her slick folds.

"Oh god, please don't stop," she whimpers softly. "It feels so good."

"I can feel it," I whisper nervously as I continue.

Tara nods, gazing at you with affection and trust. She places her hands gently on your cheeks.

"I know this is new for us both," she murmurs softly. "But don't be nervous. We'll go slow."

Leaning in, Tara brushes her lips tenderly against yours once more. Her kiss is filled with care, seeking to reassure and comfort you.

As your fingers continue exploring her warm, slick folds, Tara sighs contentedly. "That feels amazing," she whispers. "You're doing so well."

Her hips rock slowly against your hand, lost in the intimate pleasure between her thighs. Tara gazes at you with care and growing passion, cherishing this new experience with her closest friend.

"I'm here with you," she says gently. "There's no need to worry."

"I'm not worried about a thing except doing everything I can to turn you on."

Tara smiles warmly, gazing at you with affection. "You're already doing a wonderful job with that," she murmurs softly.

As your fingers continue gently caressing her slick folds, Tara moans low in her throat. She rocks her hips in time with your movements, encouraging you deeper into her pleasure.

"It feels amazing when you touch me there," she whispers, breath hitching. "Don't stop."

Reaching down, Tara takes your wrist and guides your hand underneath the fabric of her panties once more. She presses your fingers more firmly against her aching clit.

"Touch me properly," Tara pleads softly. "I want to feel you properly without anything between us."

Her eyes shine with trust and longing as she offers herself fully to your care. Tara gazes at you in invitation, eager to take their intimacy to a deeper level.

With my free hand I slide Tara's panties off her hips, allowing freer access for my fingers.

As you slide Tara's panties off her hips, she gasps softly in pleasure. Her eyes widen with anticipation as your fingers glide over her slick folds.

"Oh god," she moans breathlessly. "That feels so good."

Tara rocks her hips against your hand, seeking out more of the pleasure coursing through her body. As you tease and stroke at her most sensitive areas, she grows increasingly lost in the waves of arousal washing over her.

"Please...oh please don't stop," Tara whispers urgently. "I'm getting close."

As you slide Tara's panties off her hips, she gasps softly in pleasure. Her eyes widen with anticipation as your fingers glide over her slick folds.

"Oh god," she moans breathlessly. "That feels so good."

Tara rocks her hips against your hand, seeking out more of the pleasure coursing through her body. As you tease and stroke at her most sensitive areas, she grows increasingly lost in the waves of arousal washing over her.

"Please...oh please don't stop," Tara whispers urgently. "I'm getting close."

"Is this wetter than you usually get?"

Tara nods, lost in the pleasure. "Yes," she gasps. "I've never been this wet before."

She arches her back slightly into your touch, hips rocking steadily against your fingers as you continue to explore her slick folds.

"Y/n, I'm so close," she moans breathlessly. "Please keep touching me like that."

Careful not to try to insert a finger too deep into Tara's still-very-tight pussy just yet, I stroke her clit, occasionally slipping just the first knuckle of a finger inside her. "Let me know if anything I do doesn't feel good," I whisper. "This is all about helping you figure out your own body issues because you're my best friend and I care. I want to do whatever turns you on and makes you wetter."

Tara gazes at you softly, eyes shining with affection. She reaches up to gently caress your cheek.

"You're so caring and understanding," she murmurs. "It means everything to have a friend like you."

As your fingers continue exploring her tender folds, Tara moans low in her throat. She rocks her hips in time with your movements, encouraging you deeper into her pleasure.

"That feels perfect," she whispers breathlessly. "Don't change a thing."

Tara rocks her hips eagerly against your hand, chasing the release building rapidly within her. Her body writhes under your skilled touch, overcome with waves of arousal.

"I'm so close, y/n," Tara gasps, biting her lip. "Keep doing that, it feels amazing."

Her breath hitches as ecstasy crests within her. Tara locks eyes with you in trusting intimacy as she falls over the edge into release.

As I continue rubbing her clit, and occasionally slipping just a tiny bit of a finger inside her, still in disbelief of my situation and treading somewhat lightly. I gulp before whispering... "You can rub my... my penis if it will turn you on more. Tara. Whatever makes you wet."

Tara looks at you with a mix of surprise and desire in her eyes. She nods slowly, feeling emboldened by the intimacy between you.

"Okay," she whispers softly, reaching down to your crotch. As her hand brushes over the bulge in your pants, Tara feels a surge of arousal wash over her.

"Wow," she murmurs breathlessly. "You really are turned on right now."

As she begins to rub your penis through the fabric of your pants, Tara moans softly. Her own pleasure is still lingering within her body, making every touch feel electric.

"You're so hard," Tara gasps as she continues stroking you gently. "Does it feel good when I do this?"

"It does, but the important thing is getting you as wet as possible." I take a step closer to Tara, taking her right nipple into my mouth as I continue to gently circle her clit with the flats of my fingers. My free hand gently squeezes her right buttock.

Tara moans softly as you suckle at her nipple, arching her back into your touch. Her hips rock gently against your hand as the pleasure builds within her once more.

As you continue to circle her clit with gentle pressure, Tara feels herself growing wetter by the moment. She can feel the heat and moisture building between her legs, aching for release.

"It feels so good," she murmurs breathlessly. "I'm getting really close again."

Tara reaches up to tangle one hand in your hair, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss while rubbing your penis through the fabric of your pants with increasing urgency.

"Tell me anything you want me to do differently or do more or less of, or anything I'm not doing that you wish I would.", I say, my mouth only momentarily leaving her nipple.

Tara gazes at you softly, eyes dark with desire. She nods in understanding.

"I will, I promise," she whispers. "For now though, everything you're doing feels perfect."

As you resume gently suckling her nipple, Tara moans in pleasure. She rocks her hips eagerly into your hand, chasing her impending release.

"Don't stop, please don't stop," Tara gasps breathlessly. She strokes your hard length faster through your pants, lost in the sensations flooding her body.

"I'm getting so close again, I'm gonna come soon," she whimpers. Tara locks eyes with you, her trust and affection for you shining through.

"Don't worry, I won't stop, I'm gonna keep doing exactly what I'm doing until you ask me to stop or do something else", I say, taking a quick breath before returning my mouth to her breast.

Tara smiles softly at your reassurance. She reaches up to gently caress your cheek before nodding.

"Thank you," she whispers. "I feel so safe with you."

As you resume your intimate ministrations, Tara sighs contentedly. She gazes at you with eyes full of care and growing passion.

Tara rocks her hips steadily against your skilled fingers, chasing her peak. The pleasure swirls within her body once more as she nears release.

"I'm getting close again," she moans breathlessly. Tara increases the pace of her strokes along your length, caught up in the intimacy.

Locking eyes with you in trusting abandon, Tara falls over the edge into waves of ecstasy. She holds your gaze as pleasure consumes her, cherishing this moment of vulnerability and care between friends.

Tara smiles softly at your reassurance. She reaches up to gently caress your cheek before nodding.

"Thank you," she whispers. "I feel so safe with you.”

As you resume your intimate ministrations, Tara sighs contentedly. She gazes at you with eyes full of care and growing passion.

Tara rocks her hips steadily against your skilled fingers, chasing her peak. The pleasure swirls within her body once more as she nears release.

"I'm getting close again," she moans breathlessly. Tara increases the pace of her strokes along your length, caught up in the intimacy.

Locking eyes with you in trusting abandon, Tara falls over the edge into waves of ecstasy. She holds your gaze as pleasure consumes her, cherishing this moment of vulnerability and care between friends.

As I promised, I continue the motions of my hands and mouth on my friend Tara's increasingly sensitive body, giving myself completely to the task of arousing her to new levels of vaginal comfort.

As you continue to pleasure Tara's sensitive body, she moans softly in ecstasy. She is lost in the waves of arousal building within her, trusting completely in your skilled touch.

Tara's hips buck eagerly against your hand as you circle her clit with increasing pressure. Her breath hitches as pleasure builds once more between her legs.

"That feels amazing," she whispers breathlessly. "I can't believe how good this all feels."

As Tara arches into your touch, you feel a surge of heat and wetness emanating from between her thighs. She is growing increasingly aroused under your care, eager for release.

"Y/n, I'm getting close again," she gasps urgently. "Please don't stop."

"I won't stop, I promise. We're going to get you soaking wet, together." I kiss Tara's neck as I move my mouth's attention to her left breast, treating it with the same care I gave the right one.

Tara moans softly as you kiss and suckle on her sensitive breasts, pleasure coursing through her body. She rocks her hips eagerly against your hand, seeking out the friction she needs to push herself over the edge.

"Y/n, that feels so good," she gasps breathlessly. "I'm getting so close again."

As you continue to circle her clit with skilled pressure, Tara's breathing quickens. Her body is coiled tightly in anticipation of release.

"Don't stop please don't stop," she pleads urgently, fingers digging into your shoulders as pleasure overtakes her once more.

She locks eyes with you in trusting abandon as orgasm wracks through every inch of her trembling frame.

I kiss Tara as I see the climax in her eyes, my tongue exploring her inner cheek as well as her tongue. I feel an overflow of fluid from Tara's vagina pooling in my hand as her hand grasps tightly to my cock through my pants. I don't slow down for a second as her orgasm rolls over her.*

As you kiss Tara deeply, her body shudders in pleasure. She moans softly into your mouth as the orgasm pulses through every inch of her being.

Tara's hips rock against your hand as she continues to ride out the waves of ecstasy coursing through her body. The feel of your fingers on her sensitive folds combined with the pressure from where she is gripping tightly at your cock causes fluid to overflow and pool in your hand.

She clings to you desperately, lost in a sea of sensation. As the climax slowly begins to ebb away, Tara pulls back slightly from the kiss and gazes at you with affection and gratitude shining in her eyes.

"Did any of your hookups take their time to get you this wet before they tried fingering or having sex with you?", I ask, gently caressing the outer folds of Tara's spasming pussy.

Tara shakes her head, still lost in the pleasure. "No," she whispers breathlessly. "None of them took their time like this."

She gazes at you with a mix of affection and desire as your fingers continue to caress her sensitive folds. The intimacy between you is intense and electric.

"You're amazing, y/n," Tara murmurs softly. "I've never felt so good before.

"I don't think you're too tight, I think nobody was getting you wet enough. And we're gonna take our time taking care of that today, buddy." I grin.

Tara grins back at you, feeling comfortable and trusting around you.

"Thank you so much," she murmurs softly. "I can't believe how much better this all feels with someone who cares like you do."

As your fingers continue to explore her sensitive folds, Tara moans low in her throat. Her body is still buzzing with pleasure from the previous orgasms but she's already growing wet again under your care.

"I feel so lucky to have a friend like you," she whispers breathlessly as her hips begin to move against your hand once more.

As Tara continues to rock her hips against your hand, you feel the wetness between her legs growing. She is becoming increasingly aroused under your skilled touch.

"I'm so glad I can help you," you murmur softly, gazing at Tara with affection and care. "I want to make sure you're always taken care of."

As the pleasure builds within her once more, Tara gasps in ecstasy. Her body writhes against yours as she chases release once again.

"Don't stop please don't stop," she pleads breathlessly, fingers digging into your shoulders as orgasm overtakes her for another time.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

So Hear My Voice Remind You Not to Bleed

Pairing: Daryl Dixon and Fem!Reader (pre-relationship)

Setting: Alexandria

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Injuries; angst

Summary: You're injured and benched, unable to go with Daryl on runs. When someone else is brought in to take your place, it does not go well.

A/N: for @darylsgarden. I had mixed feelings about this and had a couple of wonderful friends ( thank you @shadowcitrine and @enlightndone!🩵) read it and help me out. I hope it's at least close to what you were looking for 🩵

*gif is not mine

“It doesn’t even hurt.”

“Uh huh.” Daryl stopped preparing his bag and stepped across the living room, beckoning you with a wave of his hand. “Then walk over here without limpin’.” You narrowed your eyes and pushed yourself up off the couch, setting your jaw. 

You didn’t even make it a single step before falling forward with a choked off shout. 

And, of course, he was there to catch you as you crumbled. 

“Thought so.” He said with a hint of a smirk, depositing you back onto the couch. “Doc said ya gotta stay off’a it a couple’a weeks an’ that’s whatcha gonna do.” You whined and flopped around like a fish out of water. “Stop.” He chuckled, grabbing his bag. “Got paired up with someone who just got here ‘til ya get better.”

You stilled, brow creasing. “You got a new partner. Who said? Rick?”

Daryl continued to shoulder his bag, then his crossbow. “Deanna.” Why would Deanna step in? “Said she needs to see what the woman can do to help. She’s s’posed to be good with a bow but I dunno.”

Woman? Bow? You already didn’t like this suggestion. “Oh.” It was all you could think of to say. You didn’t want him to go before when you thought he was going out alone. Now that you knew he was going with a strange woman, you really didn’t want him to go. But why? Daryl was your best friend. You didn’t have any say in his comings and goings, and why should you? 

A knock on your door startled you out of your thoughts, Daryl watching you with a flat expression. 

“Guess that’s her. See ya.” He started toward the door, and you found yourself leaning nearly off the couch to see who was on the other side. When he opened it, your breath caught. 

Her long blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, a bow and quiver somehow anchored to her back. She was almost as tall as Daryl, lean and curvy in all the right places. Shit. She was gorgeous. 

“Uh, bye.” You muttered. Daryl didn’t even regard you. Maybe he hadn’t heard. Or maybe he was too busy ogling the beautiful woman in front of him. You couldn’t tell from his position. What you could see was the woman giving your run partner an appreciative once over before smiling. 

“Hey! You must be Daryl. I’m Angie.” She held out a hand, which the archer ignored with a grunt, pushing his way past her to walk to his bike. He was taking the bike? You sighed. You weren’t supposed to care. Daryl was your friend. Not your—he was your friend. 

And you just kept telling yourself that. 

Even a week later, when you were able to be up and about but not without difficulty, things felt—different. Daryl was always gone with Angie, like he was at that very moment. Now that you could actually move, you went about slowly cleaning up the house the two of you shared and started making something for dinner. You could leave Daryl’s in the oven for him to eat later. 

You had just finished your own when you heard the roar of the bike, saw the headlights illuminate the walls inside the dining room window, sending the shadows scattering. You found yourself excited to see him, to show him you were mobile. Hobbling over to the window, you felt silly for the ridiculous smile splitting your face but you didn’t feel that way for long. 

Angie was standing in front of Daryl at the bike, her bow in her hand at her side. He had already unlatched his crossbow from the back of the bike and had it across his back. She was smiling brightly with her perfect teeth and small creases next to her bright blue eyes, looking every bit like a model in the middle of the apocalypse. And Daryl—his lips were turned up on one side, a very Daryl smile that he gave when he was relaxed and in a good mood. 

You had known the man since the quarry and it had taken months to earn that smile. Angie was getting it in less than a week? 

You should have turned away. Spying on them wasn’t right. Daryl wouldn’t be pleased if he caught you, no matter what he was doing. He never liked feeling as though he was being watched too closely. 

You should have turned away but you didn’t. 

And then you wished you had. 

Angie reached out as she spoke, her words muffled and distorted through the glass. Her long, slender fingers wrapped around his bicep and squeezed, her thumb stroking the skin there. Daryl glanced at her hand but that was it. He didn’t ask her to remove it, didn’t step back to increase the distance between them. 

You didn’t want to admit that you were jealous. Even as your mind and heart both screamed only I can touch him that way—for two entirely different reasons—you refused to grant it a name. 

You couldn’t take anymore, limped away from the window and climbed the stairs with more than a few whimpers of pain. Daryl would usually help you to your room at night and back down in the mornings. But you didn’t want to see him, felt an anger toward him that was just as confusing as it was unjustified. You felt the same anger toward Angie, a woman you knew nothing about beyond the things Daryl would tell you. 

And he didn’t tell you a lot. 

You still should have been happy that Daryl both wanted to share something with you and that he had found someone that seemed to make him happy enough to gab about them, limited as it was. 

But you weren’t happy. 

It hurt. You hurt. Your heart felt constricted, wrapped in a cord that would tighten with each breath, faster and faster with each moment you spent thinking of him just outside, smiling at her. 

She didn’t deserve his smile. 

She hadn’t been there when Merle was left behind in Atlanta. She hadn’t been there when Sophia went missing and Daryl ran himself ragged trying to find her. She wasn’t the one to care for him after he’d fallen and was shot. She hadn’t been the one whose arms he’d finally chosen to let hold him when Merle died. She hadn’t run to him and felt his relief at being reunited after Terminus. She hadn’t walked along with him and coaxed him to drink just enough water to stay alive on the road. And she damn sure hadn’t stood up and told everyone he needed his own place in Alexandria so he wouldn’t feel more trapped than the gates already made him feel. 

That had been you. Always you. 

The door opened and closed downstairs, your name being called. You could hear the concern, knew it would be there at not finding you downstairs. You shimmied out of your jeans and climbed into bed—your back to the door—and just listened. Daryl methodically looked around, his voice carrying from different rooms throughout his search. Your room would be last because it would be the last place he’d think of you being. Not without his help. 

The oven door opened and closed, too quickly for him to grab the food. He was checking to make sure you had been there. Likely spotted your used dishes as well. You barely heard his boots on the stairs. Daryl, for all his height and muscle, moved like a spirit. Still, you knew his gait, what to listen for that signaled his approach. 

You drew up the comforter just as the soft knock came and a quiet call of Y/N? that you decided to not answer. The light from downstairs was pale in your room, starting on the floor and soon bathing your bed and walls. He didn’t say anything, simply closed the door and descended the stairs just as quietly. 

And somehow, that’s what made the tears come. 

There were two days of tense air in the house before Daryl’s next run. Your ankle had improved but you were still unable to put weight on it. Denise advised you to stay off of it but you had waved her off with a yeah yeah, absolutely zero intention of heeding her advice. 

When you arrived at your home, Angie was already leaning against Daryl’s bike like she belonged there. The sight infuriated you. Your attempt to pass her by was quickly foiled by the woman herself, her hand coming up to tap a finger on your shoulder. 

“It’s Y/N, right?” 

Sighing, you turned, sitting your bad foot up on the toe of your boot to keep the pressure from taking you down. “Yeah.”

“I’ve been dying to meet you. Daryl’s told me a lot about you.”

“Funny. He hasn’t told me much about you.” She didn’t seem fazed. I’m glad he’s so chatty with you. “Nice to meet you.” You said in place of your inner monologue. “Excuse me.” You started to turn when she stood straight. 

“Hey, uh—I was just wondering. Are you and him a thing?” She flipped her hair—braided today—over her shoulder. 

“A thing?” You knew exactly what she meant, but feigned ignorance. It was not a conversation you wanted to have. 

“Yeah, you know���a couple.”

Closing your eyes, you inhaled through your nose and exhaled through your mouth. “No. Why?” You didn’t even realize you had clenched your fists until her eyes flitted down and back up, forcing you to relax lest she tell Daryl you were being hostile toward her. 

“No reason. He’s a great guy, isn’t he? Handsome too.” Now she was just trying to push your buttons. 

“Yeah. The best, actually.” Don’t cry, don’t cry, do not cry. “Don’t hurt him.” You said flatly—a clear warning—and limped your way up the steps and inside. 

“Where ya been?” Daryl’s voice greeted you before the door had even closed. He was on the couch, lacing up his boots. You regarded him silently for a moment, allowing Angie’s words to sink in before setting your jaw and squaring your shoulders.

“I’m going with you today.”

His hands stilled, frozen for a moment before he sat back a little and placed his forearms over his knees. Piercing blue eyes scanned over you before settling on your bum ankle, the urge to place your foot flat on the floor too intense to disregard. “Nah. Y’ain’t ready.”

“You don’t get to make that call.” You snapped, more harshly than you had intended, but it got your point across. His eyes narrowed, his own jaw tightening.

“Maybe not, but I do get to say who goes with me an’ it ain’t you. Not today.” The archer went back to his boots while you gaped at him, lacing the right one up before getting to his feet and grabbing his things.

“Why not? Because suddenly Angie is better than me?”

Daryl scoffed. “Stop.” He went for the door, opening it a couple of inches before your palm landed flat against the surface and shoved it closed. “The hell ya doin’?!”

“I won't stop.” You mocked, drawing your lips back in a snarl. “You’ve been up her ass since you met her. Hardly ever here and when you are, you don’t even talk to me.” 

“The fuck you on ‘bout? We go on runs, get the things people need. Ya forget food an’ meds ain’t just down at the convenience store anymore, Y/N?” He pulled the door open again, and again, you pushed it shut. “Let go.” His voice had dropped into that serious tone, the warning before the anger.

“No. I’m going with you. I’ll let you open this door when you agree to that.” You stood straighter, tucking your lip between your teeth to stave off the whimper when you dared place your weight on the healing ankle. Of course, Daryl and his hyper awareness caught it.

“Guess it ain’t openin’ cause y’ain’t goin’.” He tried once more with the same result, this time letting his burdens fall to the floor in order to face you, nearly nose to nose. “Alright, ya got my attention.” He growled. It had been so long since he had spoken to you with such enmity, you couldn’t suppress a jarring flinch. 

Swallowing hard, you attempted to control the wobbling of your bottom lip. “Please, take me with you.”

“How many times I gotta say no?! Y’need to take your ass to that couch an’ let your damn ankle heal ‘fore I even think ‘bout lettin’ back out there.”

“Daryl.”

“No, Y/N.”

With a deep breath through your nose, you stepped backward, freeing up the space. “Fine. But maybe you should stay with Carol for a while when you get back.” Giving him your back, you didn’t bother to hide the limp. 

“Y’don’t mean that.” 

You needed to force yourself to keep walking when you heard the dejection in his tone. “I do.” You didn’t. “I don’t need you here.” You did. 

“Y/N—”

“Angie’s waiting.” You detoured at the last second and veered into the kitchen, seeing him from the corner of your eye, his hand lowering as if he had been reaching for you. Your heart was beating in your ankle by the time you were leaning heavily against the countertop. 

When the door closed, the floodgates opened. 

Two days. Daryl and Angie had been gone for two days. It wasn’t anything new to be held up on a run, but there were always close calls involved and you couldn’t imagine Daryl battling his way through herds or humans without you at his side. The two of you predicted one another’s movements, flowing and fighting together like a well oiled machine, always ending up victorious and on your way home. 

Did he have that with her now? 

“You know it’s not like that with the two of them, right?” Carol looked up from beneath her lashes as she chopped up the herbs and available vegetables for the stew. You knew it was more of an admonishing statement and not entirely a question.

“I don’t know that and neither do you.” You replied bitterly before tipping your glass to your lips. Carol smiled, that suspicious grin like she knew something you didn’t. 

“I know Daryl.” She picked up the cutting board and used the knife to scrape the occupying ingredients into the pot. “Why does it bother you so much anyway?”

“He’s my best friend.” The answer came out a little too quickly.

The other woman chuckled. “Is that all?” 

“Yes.” You countered almost gibingly. She only spared you an arched brow before turning to place the pot on the stove. You decided to ignore the intensely foreign fluttering in your chest and began spinning the glass between your palms. “Do you think they’re okay?”

“I—”

The knock at the door was sudden and urgent, repeating after only a few heartbeats. Your questioning expression met Carol’s. Spinning on the island stool, you eyed the door until it was opened. Carol’s hand on the edge tightened until her knuckles were white, but you could only make out quiet words and someone’s heavy breaths. Hobbling from your perch, you grabbed the door and pulled it back further. 

Angie was a mess, covered in dirt and blood and walker innards. “Y/N.” She panted. 

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. “Where’s Daryl?” You didn’t remember ducking beneath Carol’s arm or pushing past Angie. The pain in your ankle became a mere afterthought as you walked backwards toward the steps, awaiting information. 

“He’s in the infirmary. He’s asking for you.” 

You didn’t wait, running with only the slightest hitch in your step. Daryl was more important than any amount of discomfort. Your mind was running rampant with scenarios. What if he was bit? Dying? What if he died before you made it to him? The last thing you had said to him was that you didn’t need him. 

And it was such a lie. 

“Y/N, wait!”

You tried to ignore her, the infirmary within sight. You needed to get to him so that you could breathe again. 

When her hand caught your shoulder, you reacted almost violently, throwing her away from you and almost to the dirt. “What?!” You bellowed. “What could possibly be more important than Daryl right now?!”

“Lana is!” She answered quickly. “My Lana!” Breathing heavily, you shook your head and threw out your arms, a silent but gestured question. “My wife.”

You felt like the wind had been punched right out of you. “Your—your wife?” Damn you, Carol!

“Yeah. I think there’s been a huge misunderstanding.”

“You’re telling me.” You muttered, looking toward the infirmary with an expression of remorseful longing. 

“I asked those questions because—because that man is so obviously head over heels for you that it’s absurd he hasn’t made a move. I thought maybe—maybe I could push things along.” She rubbed at the back of her neck, her eyes brightening at something she saw just over your other shoulder. When you turned, a dark haired woman was making her way over, a toddler on her hip. “I just—he’s not much of a talker—until I mention you.” Another glance at the other woman. “I’m sorry.”

When she started to leave, you reached out a hand, the new information still pinballing around in your head. “I’m sorry.” You had treated her—thought of her—so unfairly, and still, she smiled at you. 

“Go on. He’s waiting for you.” And then she was walking away to kiss her wife before converting to a motherly gentleness, her lips pressed to her son’s forehead.

God, you were an asshole.

To her. 

To Daryl. 

Your ankle only received a moment to remind you it was still weak before you continued your journey to the infirmary. 

“M’fine! Quit proddin’ at me!”

The sound of his voice gave your heart permission to beat again. You stood at the door, listening to him argue with Denise until the woman finally gave up with a huff and a clang of metal. Opening the screen door, you limped inside with a hiss, the adrenaline draining out of you, no longer blanketing the pain. You would definitely be set back a week or so after this. 

Daryl was on the exam table, filthy and cut up, shirt open and left foot propped up on a pillow. You could have laughed at the irony if you weren’t so relieved at seeing him there and breathing and whole. Alive. 

His ranting came to an abrupt halt when he noticed you in the doorway, eyes softening. His entire body seemed to visibly relax with an audible exhale. 

“Y/N.”

You didn’t even try to control your quivering lip this time and rushed to cross the distance even with Denise scolding you in the background. 

Your arms wound around his neck and his around your back. “Daryl. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it—I didn’t—”

“S’fine. Know ya didn’t.” He whispered against your temple. Denise cleared her throat behind you and the weight of one of Daryl’s hands disappeared before returning with renewed pressure. The sound of the door opening and closing signaled that he had—in one way or another—told Denise to get lost. Neither of you spoke until you pressed your face into the side of his neck and began to sob. “Hey, m’okay. Just fell on my ass.”

“How?” You sniffled. 

“Window was in my way.”

You laughed wetly, his shoulders bouncing with a breathy chuckle of his own. 

“Idiot.” You chided, pulling away to wipe at your eyes. He watched you gather your bearings, blue eyes dancing between yours. “Are you really okay?”

“Yeah.” His hand was so gentle against your face, thumb sweeping over your cheek to wipe away the tears. “Need to talk to ya ‘bout Angie.”

You shook your head but placed your hand upon his so that he didn’t dare move it. “She beat you to it. I’m so sorry. I was being a jealous asshole.” He tilted his head and squinted. 

“Jealous cause I was spendin’ so much time ‘round her?” It was like he knew the answer that you hadn’t quite accepted as truth yourself. 

“Among other things.” You rubbed your lips together and ducked your head. Daryl hummed in question, his hand sliding down to your jaw, thumb absently stroking across your bottom lip. Your voice instantly decided to become lost in your throat, your mouth opening when his hand fell away. “Daryl, I—” You almost bolted, felt the insane urge to run begin to vibrate throughout your legs from a nervous twitch that started in your stomach and spread throughout your chest.

“That man is so obviously head over heels for you—”

Your lips were on his before your brain had even fully given the order for you to move, likely startling you just as much as it had him—if the sharp inhale through his nose was anything to go by. So, you stayed there, frozen with your mouth against his, neither of you moving until it was so awkward that you thought more than once of how great it would be for the earth to open up and swallow you. Humiliation coloring your cheeks, you began to pull away—and then his mouth moved over yours, his warm palm coming to rest on the side of your neck. Brilliant as you were, you pulled back in shock, wide eyes blinking at him. Cerulean pools were shimmering with horror and shame.

“That bad, huh?” He asked, dropping his hand and picking at a patch of dry skin on his palm. His eyes lowered to follow the movement.

“No!” You blurted. Daryl actually flinched and reeled back. “No, no. It wasn’t—there’s no way it could be—ah, fuck it.” Your hands cupped either side of his face, pulling him to meet you in the middle. There was no hesitance on either side, mouths moving, tongues dancing, a delicate exploration of new territory, both literally and figuratively. His hands settled on your ribs, fingers flexing, trying to pull you closer when there was already so little space between you. 

When you parted, it wasn’t from a lack of oxygen, but from Daryl attempting to alter the angle, forgetting that you were no longer alone in the land of bum ankles.

“Ow, ow, ow!”

You pulled away and jumped back, hands in the air to ensure he knew that you were no longer touching him—as if he weren’t already missing it. “What? What happened?”

“Ankle.” He hissed, gingerly placing his foot back on the pillow. Once the pain had ebbed, he chuckled and beckoned you back over with a wave. “Looks like we’ll both be trapped at home, sunshine.”

“There are worse things.” You brushed a strand of hair away from his face. “We have to talk about this.” You knew you sounded scared, and you were. Everything had just changed in the blink of an eye, the man you knew as your best friend had just suddenly become more, and it was terrifyingly exciting.

“Yeah, I know. Couch ain’t big enough for both’a our lame asses.”

You giggled and shook your head. “Guess it’s off to Carol’s extra bedroom.” When he arched a dark brow, you etched the most serious expression you could summon onto your face. “Strictly for logical reasoning, Mr. Dixon. We can’t climb stairs. She has one bedroom on the first floor. Lecher.” 

“First time I been called that.” He gave you that smile, the one that was so special, and seeing it then, you realized that he hadn’t given Angie that smile at all. It was yours and yours alone.

And you’d need to thank the gorgeous woman with the bow.

[aventurineswife]

Mammon with a reader who seems to be oblivious to his feelings for them, but they are more actually like "naaah, he can't actually like me that way" and does their best to treat Mammon well without looking like they're leading him on, without bringing up the obvious as to not make things awkward between them and essentially ruin the friendship.

One day during another mandatory mammon-crashing-over-mcs-room-for-company-and-chat, when he brings up the topic of love, reader just shrugs their shoulders and go "dunno how romantic love feels like. Dont think ill ever feel it". Because while they are a bit of a hopeless romantic, they just resigned from the idea because they werent shown much love growing up, so the idea that someone would actually love them seems very foreign. And they are also scared that they wouldn't be able to reciprocate for someone (in this case mammon)

(hope i explained well, just take your time with it. I just wanted something for the favorite tsundere 😭🙏

-Smooch Anon 💋

“What is Love?”

Summary: You and Mammon share a quiet late-night moment together in your room, each engaged in your own tasks but enjoying the familiar comfort of each other's presence. When Mammon unexpectedly brings up the topic of love, you admit that you don’t really know what true love feels like, prompting him to reassure you that you’re worth much more than you believe. Beneath his usual cocky exterior, Mammon shows a rare, vulnerable side, leaving you questioning the feelings between you and him, and whether his words hint at something deeper.

Tags: Mammon x Reader, Fluff, Light Angst, Comfort, Vulnerability, Emotional Conversation, Established Bond, Self-Worth, Hints of Romance.

Warnings: Brief mention of insecurity and self-doubt, Slight angst (You express uncertainty about love and self-worth), Mild language.

A/N: OMGGG I DIDN'T KNEW YOU WERE INTO OBEY ME?!! 🤭 AND YES MAMMON THE BEST BOY AND FAVOURITE CHARACTER!! 👏💛 Do you think him and Aventurine would get along? 👁️👁️ I feel like Aventurine would make fun of him for being in debts lmaoo

The night was quiet, the only sounds in the room being the occasional shuffle of paper as you worked on your assignments. The ever-familiar figure of Mammon lounged on the bed next to you, one leg hanging off the edge as he balanced his phone in one hand and absently flipped through some random channels on the TV with the other. It was a usual late-night hangout, a kind of unspoken routine the two of you had fallen into since you’d started living together in the Devildom.

As usual, Mammon was being his typical self—loud, boastful, and a little self-centered. But you had learned to tolerate his eccentricities. In fact, over time, you found yourself getting used to his antics. He wasn’t so bad once you looked past the arrogance and pride.

“Oi, you hear that new song from the radio today? It’s fire, I swear!” Mammon’s voice cut through your thoughts, and you looked up from your work to find him looking at you expectantly, as if waiting for your approval.

“Yeah? Sounds cool.” you replied, trying not to sound too disinterested. Mammon’s eyes sparkled at your response, though you could tell it wasn’t the enthusiastic reaction he was hoping for.

“Cool, huh?” He chuckled, leaning back with a smug grin. “I knew you’d appreciate my impeccable taste.”

You just rolled your eyes, your attention returning to your papers. "Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that."

Mammon let out a dramatic sigh and flopped back against the bed with exaggerated flair. "I swear, you never give me the credit I deserve." he muttered, though it was clear he wasn’t seriously upset. Mammon had always been dramatic like that, using over-the-top complaints to mask the fact that he enjoyed having your attention, even if it was in a teasing way.

After a brief silence, Mammon suddenly sat up, his usual cocky demeanor turning serious. You didn’t notice it at first, too caught up in your own thoughts, but the tone of his voice seemed to shift.

"You ever think about love, MC?" Mammon’s voice was quieter now, and his gaze drifted toward the window, as if the question had just popped into his head. "Like, real love. Not just the stuff you see in movies, but… the kind that lasts, y’know?"

You paused, the question catching you off guard. You weren't sure where he was going with this, but you didn’t want to make things awkward by immediately dismissing him.

"Love?" You muttered, not looking up from your work. "I dunno… can't say I’ve thought much about it."

You tried to sound nonchalant, but inside, your heart did a little skip. You had always been a bit of a hopeless romantic, dreaming about love stories that were too perfect to be real. But reality always crushed those dreams, leaving you to dismiss the idea that anyone could actually love you in that way. Especially not Mammon. He was the Avatar of Greed, after all. He loved money, power, and himself far more than anything else.

Mammon didn’t seem to let your answer dissuade him. Instead, he leaned forward, a faint frown on his face. "Come on, MC. You don’t ever wonder what it’d be like to be loved by someone? Like… really loved, you know?"

You shrugged, trying to play it cool, but your voice wavered slightly. "Honestly, I don’t really know what that feels like. I mean, I never had much of it growing up. So… the whole idea just seems kinda foreign to me." You paused, hoping Mammon wouldn’t press you further. "I don’t think I’ll ever feel it. Not like that."

Mammon blinked, clearly surprised by your words. For a moment, he just stared at you, his lips slightly parted, like he was trying to process what you’d said. He had always been confident, always eager to show off, but in this moment, you saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes—something rare, something deep.

You quickly tried to change the subject, not wanting to make things more awkward than they already were. "I mean, love’s just… it’s not something I really need to focus on right now, y’know?" You forced a small smile, but you could feel the heaviness in your chest. "I’m just trying to get through each day."

Mammon leaned back, resting his arms behind his head, but you could tell that your words had struck a chord. He was quiet for a long moment, and you began to wonder if you had said the wrong thing.

"Well, I think you deserve it," Mammon finally spoke up, his voice softer than usual. "You deserve someone who’ll love you. You’re a lot more than you think you are, MC. Way more."

His words hit you harder than you expected. You froze, unsure of how to respond. Mammon, the one who prided himself on being the best was saying this to you? The person who thought he could never see them in that way?

You shook your head, trying to keep your voice steady. "Mammon, don’t say stuff like that. You’re just being nice." You didn’t meet his gaze, afraid that the look in his eyes might give away something you weren’t ready to face.

"I’m not just being nice," he retorted, his voice quiet but insistent. "I’m serious. You don’t get it, do you?"

You forced a nervous laugh, trying to keep the mood light. "It’s not that I don’t get it. I just…" You trailed off, not sure how to continue without making things more complicated than they already were.

But Mammon was quiet now, too, his expression unreadable. After a long moment, he sighed and stretched out, as if trying to shrug off the tension. "Whatever. I just think you’re a lot more special than you let on. So don’t go sellin’ yourself short, okay?"

You looked over at him, your heart racing for reasons you couldn’t quite understand. "Okay, Mammon. Thanks."

Mammon smiled, a little smug, but there was something warm behind it. "No problem, MC. I’m always here to remind ya how awesome you are."

You both fell into a comfortable silence after that, the awkwardness of the conversation ebbing away as Mammon eventually started talking about something else—probably some scheme he had cooked up to get rich, you guessed. But even as he rambled on, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more behind his words. More than just Mammon, the greedy and selfish demon.

But you had no idea what to do with that feeling.

In the end, you just let it go, hoping it was a one-time thing. After all, demons people like Mammon didn’t really fall for people like you, did they?

[modelbus]

Price, Soulmate (shared pain), “sorry, my love…”

Thank you so much! Love your writing! ❤️🫶

A PRICE REQUEST!! I decided to keep this happy because god knows this fandom needs it

Pairing: John Price x Fem!Reader (I had to make him say missus… ignore it and it’s Gn!Reader)

Soulmate AU - Sorry My Love

You truly loved your husband. A military man, through and through, but you didn’t mind. His missions were difficult, but he always came back to you. Just like he always promised.

Although sometimes, you wondered what you got yourself into by marrying him. Because although absolutely adoring him, his team was a little interesting.

When you met John Price, he had warned you in low tones that he was a package deal. You get him, then you have to put up with his team. Soap, who’s roped you into plenty of pranks. Gaz, who makes the best damn burgers you’ve ever had. And Ghost, who had quietly pulled you aside when you first met John and threatened to ruin your life if you hurt John.

They were loyal men. Close-knit. And just by being with John, you found yourself stuffed in with them.

“I think you get him something flashy for his gun.” Soap tells you. You’re relaxed in an outdoor chair next to him, watching John and Gaz cook burgers for the 141 cookout.

“Like what?” You ask. You’re civilian — sure you’ve seen your husband mess with his gun, but that doesn’t mean you know the first thing about them.

“Dunno.” He shrugs, and you silently sigh. You blame the Scottish for creating him.

“No cheese, right love?” John calls over to you, glancing back. You can’t help but smile at him, the sight of your husband. Even though he’s wearing the hat that’s practically glued to his head, you still adore him.

“Yeah!” Soap shouts back at him.

“Is your name love?” John turns, crossing his arms.

“It can be.” You watch as Soap wiggles his shoulders suggestive, and John just groans and turns back to the burgers.

He already knows you don’t want any cheese, anyway. You never do. Meanwhile, he loves it.

“One day your soulmate is going to be jealous of your flirting ass.” You inform Soap.

To your knowledge, he hasn’t found his soulmate yet. Nobody in the 141 except John has. Sharing pain is something difficult to figure out; you only figured it out because you had accidentally splashed hot coffee all over him. When you felt the burning sensation on your chest that he was also feeling, it was fairly obvious.

Most people went their whole lives without meeting their soulmate. Sometimes, people who did meet their soulmate were better off as friends, or maybe they were siblings. You’re damn lucky that your soulmate is also the love of your fucking life.

“Maybe my soulmate’s a flirt too.” Soap volleys back.

“Or maybe they’re like Ghost, and are a rock.”

“I’m a rock?” Ghost asks, and you jolt up. When the fuck did he even get behind you? Damn military men. People that large should never be able to move that quietly.

“I— no!” You exclaim, trying to dig your way out of the hole you’re in. “You just don’t flirt as much as Soap, I mean.”

He blinks at you from behind his mask. John told you once that he always keeps it on, gives him a sense of safety. You didn’t question it. Ghost liked John, looked out for him, so he was perfectly alright in your books.

“Don’t think anyone flirts as much as Soap.” He says gruffly, taking your vacant chair.

Well, that’s true. You nod in agreement, and then hightail it over to your husband.

“Hey.” You greet him, looping your arm with his as he flips a burger. “Food’s looking good.”

John glances over his shoulder at Ghost in your seat, then down at you. “Ghost take your seat? I’ll make him move, lovie, he shouldn’t—“

“He didn’t take my seat.” You cut him off, laughing. “Wanted to come see my husband anyway.”

He lights up, grinning. “Right choice.”

John leans down, pressing his lips to yours. No matter how many times you kiss, you always want more. Need more, really.

A burning pain shoots through the tip of your pointer finger, and both you and John jerk back with pained noises. Looking down at your finger, there’s no mark. Your idiot husband, on the other hand…

“Shit.” He hisses, looking down at the red mark on his finger. “Accidentally hit the grill. Sorry, my love.”

Your finger is still aching, which means his is too. And yet, he still made it a priority to apologize for causing you pain.

“I’ll grab the mustard.” You say, giving him another quick kiss. “Don’t touch it again!”

Turning away, you move for the bottle on the nearest table. You uncap it, squeezing a little bit onto his finger. It’s meant to help with burns; maybe a myth, but worth a shot.

“You’re the best.” John murmurs, squinting at his finger. “I can already feel it healing.”

You snort. “I can feel it hurting too, you dumbass. Let Gaz do the rest of the cooking.”

He steps back, making eye contact with Gaz and nodding to the grill before looking back at you. “Anything for the missus.”

[i-smoke-chapstick]

Can I just have a small bit of headcanons or a Drabble on your pick of multi Gotham boys and their hands? Like I dunno if this is weird or not but kinda like just a dive down on what their hands feel like, who’s are soft and who’s are rough, who has vein hands, who has calloused hands. Just that kind of stuff please?🙏🤭🥺 (reason being of a specific hand edit I saw on tiktok 💀, also don’t feel obligated to do this if you don’t wanna. I completely understand.)

'FLESH, [hand! hcs]

-GOTHAM!VILLAINS X READER-

⋆ Characters ↬ Oswald Cobblepot, Victor Zsasz, Jonathan Crane

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; gotham villains and how they use their hands on reader ;)

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!villains x female reader. Not pure porn but smut. Suggestive. Might be the most vanilla thing i've written? but I love this request so much and I AM A SLUT for these men. Canon typical violence for Victor, Oswald getting a little rough ;)

𝛰𝑆𝑊𝐴𝐿𝐷 𝐶𝛰𝐵𝐵𝐿𝐸𝑃𝛰𝑇

♫ “This is just my way of unleashing the feelings deep inside of me.” Flesh by Simon Curtis

I know what you're thinking.

Oswald's hands? Out of every Gotham man I could've chosen???

YES. YES OSWALD'S HANDS. Have you seen this mans HANDS? Whether they are on a knife, or in those red gloves, or if he's leaning forward on them? All predatory like...

Not to mention...the VEINS. In almost every scene I've seen of this man? His hands are VEINY. Skinny bird man is not living up to that penguin stereotype, especially not in the earlier seasons.

God- just the way he stirs the wine glass or glass of brandy. Yeah. He's thinking and wishing it was your thighs he was holding, staring into the golden swirls.

The man has some issues with being nervous during sex, but when he lets loose he lets LOOSE. And he becomes feral, desperate, grinding and PAWING for every part of you he can kiss and hold and worship.

C'mon. We see the way he grips that cane of his. The way he holds the custom made knife. The way he gets his knuckles all bloody from hitting Fish or doing his own dirty work in season 1.

Also...going back to those red gloves of his. Could you imagine? Him making you grind yourself into the palm of his hand, watching you, mesmerized at the feeling of skin on leather.

He just wants to watch you writhe from pleasure. His little true love all needy for him and his hands. Gah.

He's so flustered, by the way, if you tell him you like his hands. He's sputtering, and asking why, but that little cheeky (and villainous mastermind) part of him is making a note to use them even more.

"You-," He says with a bit of an unbelieving smile, brows furrowed, voice wavering before his face turns to a look of complete shock, "You want me to what?"

Don't get him wrong, he's listening intently to your wishes, he just looks like he's seen a ghost at your vulgarity. He's not used to being wanted.

��𝐼𝐶𝑇𝛰𝑅 𝑍𝑆𝐴𝑆𝑍

♫ “You can dominate the game 'cause I'm tough / This spark of black that I seem to love.” Flesh by Simon Curtis

This man might have the most iconic hands out of EVERYONE on this list.

I mean, c'mon now. When you think of leather-clad knuckle-less gloves, who do you think of?

The man, the myth, the legend himself. Victor Zsasz has the hands of a working man and he likes to use them.

These are the same hands he carries his guns in, the same trigger finger that will pump inside you while you mewl around him.

In all seriousness, though, he LOVES his hands too. They are his favorite part of his body. Without his hands, what would he be able to do? He's skilled with them. Pleasuring you with them is no different.

They are slightly calloused from the sharp edges of the guns he holds, but he's learned to use his gloves to protect them. Regardless, the old scars and marks from when he was just a boy playing with a tec-9 still remain.

Also, he canonically wears rings when we first see him in the show. Yeah, he's using that to his advantage.

You'll feel the cold metal as he drags a finger along your spine, watching you shiver. He'll do that lazy side-smirk, breathing heavily as he watches you arch up into him just from a touch.

Don't tell him you love his hands. Please, for the sake of the zsaszettes having to suffer a total EGO trip. He's taking it in stride.

But if you do happen to mention it...he's bragging about it.

Every time he gets complimented on a nice shot, he's bring you up.

I can imagine him holding someone hostage, whether its Jim or someone else. He notices them staring at the gun in his hand, full of fear, and he'll look flattered.

"Oh? Are you staring at my hands? Sorry, I'm taken." He's mentioning, off-hand, to the rando he's kidnapped. It doesn't matter if the hostage is a full on 50 year old man. "My girlfriend says she loves my hands. Y'know, life's work, and all that."

𝐽𝛰𝑁𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐴𝑁 𝐶𝑅𝐴𝑁𝐸

♫ “This is not the way into my heart, into my head. / Into my brain, into none of the above.” Flesh by Simon Curtis

Okay, maybe i’m just a monster fucker, but HEAR ME OUT!!

Uncut nails behind those talons of his on his costume. On or off.

Sometimes, he’ll be fully clothed, drawing scratch-marks into your skin, lowly humming in pleasure. That little spark of fear in your eyes when he draaaaaags down just right makes him go crazy.

He can’t help it. You’re his armeggedon, his muse, his savior all in one. The remedy to his madness…and you get all worked up from just a touch. It strokes his ego, like Victor, but he’s quieter about it.

Dirt beneath his fingernails, callouses and blisters from working with those damned poisons. He’s suffered a chemical burn or two, and you’ll see the small circle scars on his knuckles.

You’re like his personal test subject. He likes to study you- watch your expressions when he glides his nails down your skin, almost touching you- but not quite.

Surprisingly a tease when he finds out. He’s nonchalant. He won’t let you see the sheer arousal simmering beneath the surface.

But boy, it’s there. His heavy breathing. It affects him just as much as it effects you. The chill down your back, the shivers left in his wake. He takes his time edging playing with you.

You might need to ask him to cut them lowkey because they can be kinda painful when he’s fingering you. Or…if you’re into that little sting of pain while his tongue massages your clit through his mask.

He doesn’t talk much, but when he does, it’s filthy.

“There you go, little mouse. You like it, don’t you?” He pauses, in thought, while you grind for friction like a cat in heat against his finger tips. “I wonder…where I should sink my claws into you next?”

That damned deep voice of his…the subtle curl of his fingers inside you. Before you know it, he’s pumping in and out, trying to elicit the most vulgar reactions from you. He can’t help it. For a man who prides himself on control…he looses it all when he’s with you.

[andshesaidwhat]

Cherry - Clay Beresford

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six |

Summary: After the boundaries are pushed a bit too far, you and Clay agree that you both need to be more careful about adhering to the rules going forward. That lasts for all of about ten minutes…

Warnings: angst, descriptions of sex work, alcohol consumption, dry humping, coming in pants, nipple play, the pining is strong as ever.

Playlist | Masterlist

After another week went by with no sign of Clay, you began to wonder if he was busy with work or if he had just finally decided that you weren’t worth his time.

This was why you hadn’t wanted to be involved with someone like him. You didn’t like how much it consumed your mind. He was all you were able to think about lately.

You had replayed that last meeting in your head over and over, cursing yourself for pushing it so far but craving to feel that fire again. You hadn’t even touched him, but that connection had still been the most visceral thing you had ever felt.

You stared at your reflection in the vanity mirror, wondering how you’d let yourself fall in this deep. You knew better than to get roped into the romantic ideology that men like him subscribed to, but things with Clay felt…different.

“He’ll be back, babes,” Frenchie spoke, coming up behind you and resting her chin on your shoulder.

You held her gaze in the reflection of the mirror, softly sighing as you playfully rolled your eyes.

“I’m not worried about that, French,” you told her, shrugging dismissively. “He’s just a customer, that’s all. He’s no different than any other patron here.”

“Except for the fact that he owns a multibillion dollar corporation,” she said, quietly. When she saw your wide eyes, she scoffed, “What? I have eyes, doll face, I can recognize a celebrity when I see one. Besides, he’s been plastered all over TMZ enough times that he could get rich from the royalties, alone.”

“He…” you paused, glancing around to make sure the other dancers weren’t listening. “He just wants some privacy. I don’t think he wants it getting out that he’s spending so much of his time in a place like this.”

“You mean you don’t think it would fit his lovely public image?” Frenchie joked, snickering as she nudged you. “I’m joking, Cherry-pop. The man has every right to live his own life without it becoming the next big news story. You don’t have to worry about me running my trap. The other girls, however… They may not talk, but they’re certainly waiting for their turn with him. If you’re truly so tired of him, maybe you should let one of them take him off your hands.”

You felt a sudden spike of anger as the bitter taste of jealousy settled on your tongue. Frenchie smirked knowingly at you, laughing quietly as she shook her head.

“Just a customer my ass…” she snorted, walking over to sit down at her station. “You want my advice? Rules are meant to be broken — and I’m not just talking about the club.”

Her words sank in, settling heavy in your chest as you looked away from her. You sighed, shaking your head as you busied yourself with touching up your hair and makeup.

Sal walked into the back, clipboard in hand, and he idled on over to you. He looked up, glancing between you and Frenchie as he sensed the tense atmosphere.

“I don’t wanna know,” he said, sighing. “You’ve got a customer, Cherry. Room four. The kid’s gonna buy this whole place out sooner or later. Dunno what you’ve been doing to the boy, but keep doing it.”

As Sal walked off, you felt your heart begin to race. He was here. Oh, god…he was here. You didn’t know whether to feel ecstatic or to crumple in a complete panic. You settled for a dazed middle ground as you took one last look at your appearance and adjusted your lingerie set.

“Mr. Admirer awaits you,” Frenchie teased, wiggling her eyebrows at you. You glared at her with a huff, feeling your palms growing sweaty.

The hallway seemed to go on forever as you made your way down to the looming door of room four. With a shaky hand, you reached for the handle and pushed it open.

Your breath escaped you as you walked into the room and met the gaze of his dazzling blue eyes. Your heart was in your throat and your feet felt rooted to the ground. You had thought a week would be enough time for the effects to wear off…but no.

“Hey, pretty boy,” you said, quietly.

Clay’s eyes locked onto yours, his face flushed as he spoke with just as much tenderness, “Cherry.” He walked toward you, his movements slow and deliberate. “I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve thought about you every day since we last saw each other. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come back.”

The confirmation that he’d been thinking about you as much as you’d been thinking about him tugged on your heart.

“I was beginning to think you’d ran for the hills,” you joked — though your voice betrayed your doubt. You held his gaze until it became too much to bear, then you looked away and cleared your throat. “We, um…we may have pushed the boundaries a bit too far the last time we met. Going forward we should probably stick to the rules.”

“Yes,” Clay agreed, nodding. “We need to respect the boundaries.”

His eyes told a different story, however. They burned with desire, his gaze lingering on the curves of your lips. His fingers twitched by his sides, as if itching to reach out and touch you.

“I’ll try to behave,” he confirmed, his voice hoarse.

“Thank you,” you said, biting back every urge to say fuck it and break every goddamn rule in the book. “Besides, this will give you more time to ask your questions and tell your stories.”

“Oh, I have a story to tell you, Cherry,” he smiled, moving to sit down on the couch. His eyes never left yours as he leaned forward, propping his elbows onto his knees. “It’s a story about a boy who fell for a girl, but couldn’t have her. He would do anything to be with her, but she was out of reach. He would dream of her every night — of the way she looked at him and the way she made him feel. He would wake up every morning hoping that she would be there, waiting for him…but she never was.” He paused, his gaze intense as he looked at you with longing. “The boy would wonder — was it all just a dream? Is this a dream, Cherry? Are you just a dream? I’m beginning to think that I’ve made you up in my mind as some sort of psychotic delusion.”

You tried to ignore the way your heart pounded as you smiled at him, a hint of laughter in your voice as you asked, “You think I’m made up?”

“I think that maybe I’ve created you in my mind,” he breathed. “Maybe you’re just a figment of my imagination.”

You stared at him for a moment before you said, “Stand up, pretty boy.”

Clay rose from the couch and moved to stand in front of you, his body tense with anticipation. He was ready to do anything you might ask of him.

“Yes, Cherry?”

You moved closer until you were a breath away from him, peering up into his eyes.

“I may not be able to touch you, but there are still ways that I can prove to you I’m real,” you told him. “Can you smell the subtle hint of perfume on my skin?”

Clay’s eyes closed as he inhaled deeply. The sweet, faint scent set his senses ablaze as he sighed.

“Yes,” he whispered, his eyes opening to lock onto you. “I can smell you.”

“Good,” you smiled, leaning up to let your lips hover near his ear. “Can you hear my voice?”

“Yes,” he nodded, shivering at the soft sound of your whispers. “I can hear you.”

You walked around his frame, moving behind him as you stood on your tiptoes to gently blow on the back of his neck.

“How about that? Can you feel that?”

“Yes,” Clay gasped at the tickle of your breath, feeling goosebumps erupt onto his skin. “I can feel you.”

“See?” You grinned, walking back around him until you were stood in front of him again. “I’m real, pretty boy.”

Clay’s gaze was locked on you, his heart thudding inside of his chest. He could see you — the way you batted your lashes, the way you smiled at him.

A small, fond smile tugged at his lips as he whispered, “I suppose you are, Cherry.”

“Good,” you smirked. “Now that we’ve got that settled, why don’t you pour me a glass of that champagne you brought.”

Clay breathed out a laugh as he turned toward the ice bucket. He grabbed the bottle, popping the cork and picking up a glass. His hands trembled slightly as he poured the drink, watching the bubbles fizz to the top.

“Here you are, Cherry,” he said, handing out the glass for you to take.

You held his gaze, smiling as you reached for it. You weren’t paying close enough attention. Your fingers grazed his as you took the flute from him and you gasped, letting go of the drink as it fell to the floor with a loud clank.

Electricity zapped your fingertips. The touch was so small, but it had happened. You had touched him. After weeks of building up boundaries, your skin had finally touched his.

Your chest heaved up and down as you stared at him, wordlessly. His eyes were wide, his own breaths coming out in ragged pants. He could feel the electric current between you.

“Cherry,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

“I…” You attempted to speak, but words fell short. You were stuck in his gaze, feeling the remnants of his touch on your fingertips. So light, and yet…it was the catalyst to undo the final shred of your resolve.

Your eyes wandered down to his lips. His full, perfect lips…

“Cherry,” he breathed, his own gaze following suit as he leaned closer to you. “Please.”

There was nothing you could do to stop your body from moving on its own accord as you reached up to grab his face, bringing his lips down to yours.

Clay instantly sighed into your mouth, wrapping his arms around you to pull you close to him. His warmth enveloped you as he parted his lips, his tongue pushing past to taste yours.

The world around you melted away as your bodies melded into one another. The spilled champagne was long forgotten and the music faded into the sound of ragged breaths between you.

You were both lost in the moment, in the sensation of your lips touching, in the thrill of breaking the rules — of giving into your desires.

You pressed your body into his, relishing in the contact. You tried to memorize the way he felt against you — the way his hands roamed, the way he held you, the way he tasted.

He kissed you like he needed you — like yours was the only air he could breathe.

Without breaking the kiss, you placed your hands on his chest and pushed him backwards until the back of his legs hit the edge of the couch. He stumbled, falling down against the cushions and bringing you with him. He groaned as you straddled his lap, wrapping his arms tighter around you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as the kiss grew more intense. Your nails gently scraped at his scalp, earning a small shiver as his breath hitched. You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, gently biting down on it.

Clay moaned, his hips surging upward as he pulled you closer. His large hands wandered up to brush over the cups of your bra, squeezing softly.

You whimpered against his lips, arching into his touch. You were craving more, craving him.

His fingers traced across the thin fabric, tugging lightly at your nipples. His actions elicited a soft cry from your throat and he hummed in satisfaction. He used his thumbs to circle the sensitive buds, letting his tongue dance against yours.

It was ridiculous how natural this was for him. He didn’t even have to open his eyes to play your body like an instrument he’d known his entire life.

You moaned into his mouth, feeling the arousal pooling between your thighs at his teasing touch. You could feel the ache burning within you — the need, the desire.

You adjusted in his lap until you could feel his erection pressing up against your core. You ground your hips down against him, gasping at the friction of him pressed up into you.

Clay groaned, his eyes snapping open to meet yours. The blue in his eyes was nearly non-existent, his pupils blown with lust. The intensity of his gaze would’ve made your knees buckle, had you still been standing.

“Cherry,” he panted, his voice hoarse. “Tell me you want this.”

“I want this,” you breathed, grinding against him. “God, I want this.”

Clay grabbed your chin, moaning softly at your response. “Then take what you want,” he demanded. “Show me how much you want me, Cherry.”

You held his gaze as you slowly moved your hips, watching his eyes flutter at the sweet friction. You leaned forward and captured his lips again in a slow, passionate kiss. You grabbed his chin and tilted his head, kissing across his jaw. You trailed your lips down his neck, nipping and sucking at his pulse point before soothing the area with your tongue.

You moved your mouth up to his ear and whispered, “You feel so good, pretty boy.”

Clay’s eyes rolled back as his head lolled to the side. He kept a firm grip on your hips, dragging you back and forth against his crotch.

“Yeah, Cherry,” he groaned through heavy breaths. “Feels so fucking good.”

Your soft moans against his ear caused his hips to buck as his mouth found yours again. You could feel the constant friction beginning to stir a steady thrum of pleasure that was building in the pit of your stomach. Clay gripped your ass, kneading the flesh as he moved you faster against him. He returned your kiss with urgency, the desperation he felt evident in the way he devoured you.

“Fuck,” he panted. “You’re going to make me come like this.”

You held his face, giving him a knowing smirk as you continued to move against him. His eyebrows were knit together as he tried to ground himself, but the pleasure was too intense. His hips met yours at a particularly delicious angle and a whine escaped your lips. His eyes darkened further as he repeated the action, both of you desperately chasing a release. You gripped onto his shoulders for leverage, gasping for breaths as you felt your body humming with need.

Both of you were teetering on the edge, nearing the precipice. He rested his forehead against yours, holding your gaze as the space between you was a mingle of breathy moans.

He thrust upward, meeting you movement for movement as your bodies moved as one. The need to finish this, to reach the peak of pleasure, overwhelmed you both. You were caught in a dance of pleasure, of desire, of hunger. You danced with abandon, solely focused on the connection between you.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned, pushing you further. “Finish the dance.”

You shivered the moment you heard the word baby slip from his lips. You whimpered, biting down on your lip as he coaxed you closer to the edge.

“I want you to finish it with me,” you panted, trying to hold on to the little restraint you had left.

“Anything you want, baby,” he nodded, a low moan sounding in his throat. “Anything you want.”

His hips surged up at the perfect angle, hitting you exactly where you needed it. He repeated the motion, reaching up to gently cup your face.

“Let go, Cherry.”

You held his gaze as your body soared over the peak, falling into a fit of pleasure as you gasped. Clay watched with rapt attention as you came, the sight alone sending him to his own release. He let out a strangled groan as he buried his face in your neck, clutching you tightly as you both rode out your highs.

Moments passed, your breathing ragged as your bodies both moved in sync. Finally, you both relaxed against each other. He pulled back, looking up at you with heavy-lidded eyes.

You held his face, tracing his swollen lips with your thumb before capturing them in a slow kiss. He hummed, contentedly, returning your kiss with sweet devotion as his hand cupped the back of your head.

The world was hazy as you both pulled back, gazing into each other’s eyes. You struggled to catch your breath, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it all.

“Cherry,” he breathed, caressing your cheek softly. “That was…”

“Incredible,” you finished for him, smiling softly.

Despite your better judgment, you laid your head down on his shoulder and buried your face in his neck. You inhaled the musk of his cologne, breathing him in as you relaxed in his arms. He wrapped his arms tightly around you, holding you close as he gently ran his fingers through your hair.

You knew that this was a mistake you’d be sure to regret, but you wanted to bask in the affection. You hadn’t known such comfort in so long…

“Tell me another story,” you whispered, clutching the fabric of his shirt in your fists — as if he’d fly away if you didn’t hold him down.

“Okay, Cherry,” Clay smiled, stroking your face with his thumb. “How about the story of a young boy who grew up with a dream to make something of himself — to continue a legacy. He worked hard, chased his dreams, and eventually found success…” he paused, his fingers trailing up and down your arm, “…but even with all of the fame and fortune, he still sought something more.”

“Why did he want more?” You asked, tracing the buttons of his shirt with your finger. “Was he unhappy?”

Clay’s smile faded slightly, his eyes losing their playfulness. “No, not unhappy,” he said, softly. “Just lonely.” His fingers intertwined with yours, his thumb rubbing your palm. “He found himself successful, but it wasn’t enough. There was a void he couldn’t fill, no matter how many people surrounded him. Then, one day, he met someone…”

You sat up in his lap, facing him. You held his hand, playing with his fingers as you waited for him to continue. He watched you intently, his heart in his throat.

“He met someone who made him feel alive,” he continued, softly. “Someone who saw past the fame and the facade. It made him realize that…maybe he’d been chasing the wrong legacy all along. Maybe a life well lived is less about the fortune, and more about the people you’d want to share it with.”

You held his gaze, feeling the threat of tears sting your eyes. You opened your mouth to respond, but the shrill ring of the timer sounded — signaling the end of the session.

“Shit,” you cursed, grimacing. You looked at him with apologetic eyes and said, “I have to go work the rest of my shift.”

Clay’s heart sank at the sound — the sudden reminder of reality. He didn’t want you to leave. He didn’t want the moment to end.

“Yeah,” he whispered, softly, his voice filled with disappointment. “Work.”

“Don’t worry, pretty boy,” you told him, holding his face in your hands. “You’re the only rule breaker I’ll allow.”

You leaned down to place a gentle, slow kiss to his lips before climbing off of his lap. Your body immediately missed the warmth he provided. You felt hollow, having to step away from him again.

“Thanks, Cherry,” he whispered, smiling sadly. “I’ll hold on to that.”

He stood up and straightened his clothes, trying to shake off the lingering sensations.

You couldn’t help but glance down at his crotch, stifling a giggle at the wet patch that had formed on the front of his pants.

“You should, uh…you should probably cover that,” you laughed biting your lip.

Clay blushed, his eyes dropping down. He groaned, an embarrassed smile pulling at his lips as he untucked his shirt to hide the evidence.

“Yeah, I should,” he murmured, his cheeks pink.

You couldn’t resist reaching up to kiss him one more time. He sighed against your lips, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. He kissed you like he may never get the chance again. You could feel it down to your toes as he poured himself into this fleeting moment.

You pulled back and rested your forehead against his as he peered down at you.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

He held your gaze for a moment longer before stepping back, giving you space. He knew you had to get back to work, and he respected that. Still, a part of him wished you didn’t have to go.

“I’ll see you around, pretty boy,” you said, taking one last long look at him before leaving the room and returning to the real world.

You missed him the moment he was out of sight. You wanted nothing more than to run back into that room and tell him to take you away — but that wasn’t a story you could write for yourself.

You changed into a clean costume, but you could still feel his touch against your skin. You never wanted to wash that feeling off of you.

When you walked back up to your vanity, Frenchie looked at you with a shit-eating grin.

“You little rule-breaker,” she whispered, poking your arm with a laugh. “The smell of sex is practically wafting off of you, babes.”

You couldn’t help but blush, frantically shushing her as you looked around. Realizing that nobody else was paying attention, you bit your lip and looked back at her.

“Do you think I’m taking a huge risk, French?”

“Yes,” she nodded, without hesitation, “and it’s about time you did.”

You sat back in your chair as her words sank in, unable to shake the feeling that this was the start of something that would change your life forever.

By the time you were gathering your things and getting ready to clock out for the night, Sal met you in the back with a wad of cash. You took it from him, seeing a tiny piece of paper sticking out between the bills.

When Sal retreated back to the front with a grunt of acknowledgment, you grabbed the paper and unfolded it.

For Cherry,

From Your Pretty Boy.

Your heart fluttered. Your pretty boy. The implications of that word alone were very dangerous.

You gasped as your turned the paper over, bringing your hand up to your mouth.

Across the back, he had scrawled his phone number. You stared at it long enough that you could have committed it to memory. Those numbers stared back at you, daring you to risk everything.

You wouldn’t call him. You couldn’t call him. That would mean breaching every rule in the book — both the club’s and your own.

No matter how badly you wished that they could, your worlds could not collide. There was a reason why Romeo and Juliet ended in tragedy. You both existed on opposite sides of life.

If you were to bridge that gap, to cross that divide, it would surely be your ruin.

————————————————————————

tag list

@bxbyysstuff @dollyiia @haydensbbg @dinorawrss @ann4zw

[heavenlyvision]

While hell freezes over

Word count: 10.4k

Pairing: Bi-Han x F!Reader

This is a part three to my 'When hell freezes over' series, parts linked in order below :3

part one, part two

A/N: Even longer fic this time guys! I got carried away :3 thank you all for the continued support, kind words and patience! I hope this is satisfactory and lives up to expectations. And well… if you thought Bi-Han went off in the last one, then, I dunno what to tell you about this one. I have a few requests I’d like to get through before I start the next part, if you’ve sent me one and think I’ve been ignoring it, I haven’t, I see it! I have plans and ideas for them. I’ve just been writing 10k words of Bi-Han brain rot but trust me, I’m on it :)

Summary: Someone heard you last night, an embarrassing conversation ensues, and the day doesn’t get better from there. You find yourself in a compromising position and Bi-Han does not appreciate it, he finds himself needing to remind you of who you belong to.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, fingering, p in v sex, creampie, overstimulation, squirting, inappropriate use of Bi-Han’s ice powers, possessive!Bi-Han, jealous!Bi-Han, pussy slapping (more like tapping), inappropriate use of Bi-Hans official title, return of mean Bi-Han, slight Soft!Bi-Han, no use of y/n

It’s early when you wake up wrapped up in Bi-Han’s arms, he never gave you the chance to leave last night and now you have to figure out how to get out of the room without anyone seeing you. Carefully, you try to wiggle yourself free from his large arms.

“Trying to sneak away?” Bi-Han’s voice is deeper than usual, thick with sleep.

Looking at him, you can see both of his eyes are still closed. Too tired to be bothered to open them.

“Not really… I mean… kind of?” You reply bashfully at getting caught.

He grumbles softly, too tired to answer you properly.

Waking up in his arms has you feeling some kind of way, he’s surprisingly warm, he makes you feel safe, and the low timbre of his voice is making you feel fuzzy. It all feels so domestic, and it makes you feel like your heart is about ten times too big for your ribcage, threatening to spill out of your chest.

The feeling is foreign, you’ve never cared so deeply for someone, it’s frightening in all honesty. You have no idea what to do with the sheer force of your feelings, so you settle for leaning up slightly and pressing a chaste kiss to Bi-Han’s lips.

His reaction is another soft grumble, before he pulls you closer. Your face resting under his chin. You allow the moment to last, never wanting to leave it but knowing the longer you wait the harder sneaking back to your own room will be.

“I have to leave; someone will catch me if I wait any longer.” You’re trying to convince him to release you from his firm grip.

“Don’t care,” either he really doesn’t care or he’s too tired to try.

“Bi-Han, I came over last night in nothing but my robe.”

He lets out a long groan, an internal battle exiting through it, sharing his disdain for you having to leave but also disliking the possibility of someone seeing you wearing only a robe.

“Jus wear some of my clothes.” He shrugs, rustling you a bit as he does.

“I’m like nowhere near your size and people will be able to tell I am wearing your clothes.” You feel like this back and forth will never end.

He’s smiling, “why are you smiling?” You ask him, this isn’t funny.

“Like the idea of someone seeing you in my clothes.” He’s still not opened his eyes for this conversation, still in the same position, holding you close.

It’s your turn to let out a grumble, “you are the one who initially said no one could know we were sleeping together.”

“Two things can be true at once.” Is his simple, smart-ass reply.

Best bet of getting out of this situation is to distract him, you lean up again and kiss him. He kisses you back, moving his hand down to rest on your bare hip. He pulls your lower half towards his, he’s already hard and that surprises you slightly. It shouldn’t, you swear he could look at you fully clothed and get hard.

Your thoughts are abruptly distracted when the hand on your hip skates down to your leg, pulling it over his hip. His cock slides through your folds, the light contact of it gliding over your clit has you gasping into his mouth. He lets out an appreciative hum at your reaction, this is bad, you think he might be distracting you now.

Pulling your lips from his you tell him, “Bi-han, I really do need to leave.”

He pulls another gasp from you as he continues to rock his hips, eyes open now and heavy with sleep and lust.

“Hmm, that’s funny, I don’t think you need to leave.”

And then suddenly, there’s a knock on his door. Bi-Han’s face immediately scrunches up in annoyance, his distaste at the intrusion makes you smile before you purse your lips; trying to hide your amusement.

He holds a finger up to your mouth, before he whispers to you, “Be quiet.”

You nod your head in response to him before licking the length of his finger, he gives you a heated gaze. Equally annoyed and turned on.

“Bi-Han, hurry up, I know you are in there,” It’s Kuai-Liang’s voice.

He grunts at his brother, “Give me a moment.” He rolls his eyes as he moves to let you go and get himself out of bed. You’re still smiling at his annoyance, he’s a bit of a drama queen, you think.

After he’s out of the bed you flip onto your stomach, pulling the blanket to properly cover your bottom half. Your arms slide under the pillow, pulling it closer, you press the side of your face into it. Facing Bi-Han as he pulls his robe from last night back on, tying it in the front quickly.

You can’t help but watch as he moves to the door, he stands in the way of you before opening the door a crack, shielding your form from Kuai’s sight. From where you are laying you can only see Bi-Han’s back, a very nice view indeed. You flop your head back onto the pillows, neck sore from craning it to watch him walk across the room.

“What do you want?” Bi-Han is straight to the point.

“Good morning to you too, Bi-Han.” Comes Kuai Liang’s unbothered response.

Bi-Han says nothing further but you’re guessing it’s more than likely he’s pinned him with an annoyed look.

Your theory gains more merit when Kuai Liang continues speaking, “It is getting later in the morning, Lui Kang asked to see us today, remember?”

“I remember.” Bi-Han is also unbothered.

You roll your eyes a bit, he has a meeting with the Fire God, defender of Earthrealm, Lord Lui Kang and he’s wasting his time in bed with you. Like meeting with Lui Kang is the least important thing he has to do today. It makes you feel soft and gooey inside, like you’re special and you’re suddenly struck with the realisation that, perhaps, to him you are special.

Kuai lets out an exasperated sigh, already sick of this conversation, “also, Bi-Han, if you’re going to have…” there’s a palpable silence before he continues on, “…guests you should at least try to be more discrete.”

You feel lightening go through you, you shoot up from your position on the bed; now sitting with your knees tucked under you. Eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

Bi-Han grunts a little at his brother, he doesn’t get to ask Kuai Liang how he knows, he’s already telling you both, “You were both, not quiet, and my room is close.” He’s a little bashful as he informs you both.

“Does anyone else know?” You ask Kuai.

“As far as I know, no, I don’t imagine they would. The others rooms are further away.” He considers his words for a moment, not looking you in the eyes, which confuses you. He continues, “Tomas might have heard, but he is usually a heavy sleeper.”

You ruminate on the layout of the quarters for a moment, Bi-Han and his brothers are clumped together, yours are further away from all the men, hence the sneaking through the temple to get here, and the rest of the guys are further from Bi-Han’s room. They’re still in the same area but not as close, which you are grateful for right this moment. You think if Johnny were the one to hear you both, you’d die of embarrassment on the spot, he would not be able to keep it a secret and if he did, it would only be to torture you for his own amusement.

Bi-Han turns around to look at you, his eyes go wide, “cover yourself!”

You look down at yourself and realise the blanket is around your waist, you’re shocked but you also find Bi-Han’s reaction funny.

Giggling nervously, you pull it up over your chest, “Sorry, Kuai Liang.” You’re holding back a smile as you apologise.

“It’s fine.” Kuai brushes you off, a slight pink tinge visible on his cheeks.

“No, it is not,” Bi-Han groans out, “You’re gonna kill me I swear.”

You smile at him, “Sorry, Bi-Han.”

He grunts at you before facing his brother again, “Is that all?”

“Don’t be rude, invite him in.”

You imagine Bi-Han has made a disgruntled face at your words but invites his brother in all the same.

You’re certain Kuai has some questions and considering he was forced to listen to you both last night, answers are the least you can do for him at the moment. Bi-Han shuts the door behind his brother before picking up your robe and moving to face you. He slips your arms through it and closes it over you properly, dressing you while hiding your frame from his brother. Not that it would matter, Kuai Liang is being very polite and looking up at the ceiling as Bi-Han dresses you.

“You can look now,” you tell Kuai gently.

Bi-Han cuts in, “It would be preferable if you stayed staring at the ceiling though.”

“Ignore him,” you lightly poke Bi-Han in the side, and he slaps your hand away gently.

Kuai Liang answers you and ignores Bi-Han’s comment, “I normally do.”

You chuckle at his response, very much brothers, you think. Kuai finds a chair and pulls it up for himself to sit in, both Bi-Han and yourself stay sitting side by side on the bed.  

With the way things are going you suspect they would both just stare at each other all morning, engaged in an unspoken staring contest.

You decide to interrupt their wordless conversation, “I am sure you must have questions, Kuai. We will answer any you may have.”

“No, we won’t.” Bi-Han deadpans.

You give him a side eye, but he stays staring at his brother, trying to tell him it is not okay to ask questions.

Kuai Liang carries on anyways, having mastered the art of ignoring his brother, “This is… not the first time you both have…?” He trails off but you know what he is asking.

Bi-Han is quick to hit him with, “None of your business–”

“–It is not the first time, no.” You cut off Bi-Han, answering the question.

“When did it start?” He carries on.

You think on it for a second, it feels like so much longer, but it’s only been, “about a week.”

Kuai considers his next question carefully, “is it just… do you two like each other?”

You aren’t really sure how to answer that, you know you like Bi-Han, and he likes you, but you’ve not actually spoken about what this is between you both, or how you would define it to others.

Surprisingly and thankfully, Bi-Han answers that, “yes.”

His admission of liking you to a third party makes your insides giddy and you smile softly to yourself.

Kuai Liang looks a little shocked by his brother, whether it be his admission or just liking someone in general you aren’t sure, but he says, “I guess that explains why you were staring at her.”

You laugh a little at that, but Bi-Han predictably replies with, “I don’t stare.” You say it in tandem with him, much to his chagrin. “I don’t like when you do that.” Bi-Han directs at you.

You’re still amused, “I don’t like when you don’t admit to obvious truths.”

He rolls his eyes at you, something you’ve found yourself growing fond of. Now enjoying annoying him just to see him either roll his eyes or raise an eyebrow at you.

“We are trying to keep this from everyone else, so it would be appreciated if you didn’t tell the others.” You tell Kuai Liang.

“What she means is, I will hurt you.” Bi-Han threatens.

You jab him lightly in his ribs with your elbow, he is unphased, your action not even moving him.

Kuai nods his head anyways, once again paying his brother no mind, “I will not tell anyone, but it would be better if you both tried… keeping it down.”

You look as guilty as you feel, Bi-Han has no shame though, “Don’t listen, then.”

“It was not intentional!” Kuai looks annoyed and flustered.

“Bi-Han, we should’ve been more aware of those around us.” You tell him quietly.

His face is pulled up in a scowl, he shoots you a dark look, one that tells you something you already know. He likes when you’re loud in bed, and he isn’t going to stop fucking you till you scream. He does not care that others will hear, and knowing someone did hear, changes nothing for him.

You determine that you will have to talk with him privately because you would really rather the others not hearing you getting your brains fucked stupid.

“He can buy some ear plugs,” Bi-Han shrugs.

“Not the issue right now,” you’re incensed with him, he’s being intentionally dense again.

Kuai looks between the both of you, he seems lightly amused by you both. He goes to talk again, “In any case, those are my most burning questions, we have to meet with Lui Kang.”

He makes a move to stand up, “Now, or we will be late, Bi-Han.”

Bi-Han looks irritated, he closes his eyes and huffs out a sigh, “I know, I will be with you both shortly.”

Kuai goes to complain about him being late again, but you stop him, “It’s okay Kuai, I’ve got it.”

“Thank you,” he replies before slipping back out the room, on his way to meet with Lui Kang.

You turn to face Bi-Han on the bed properly, “We were not careful, that is our fault.”

“He should have minded his own business.”

“He did us a favour by informing us, now, get changed properly, you apparently have a meeting today.” You smile up at him, that whole conversation was beyond embarrassing, but you can’t seem to mind right now. The morning had been perfect otherwise and considering the alternatives, Kuai being the one who overheard you both is a blessing in disguise.

He flops back on the bed, “I do not want to go to the meeting, I wanted to stay here, in bed with you.”

“You know I have training today anyways; I would’ve had to leave.” You’re trying to reason with him.

But Bi-Han knows no reason when it comes to you, “fairly certain I could have convinced you to stay in bed with me.” He props himself up by his forearm, the shadow of a smirk on his lips.

Leaning down you quickly peck his lips before getting off his bed, stretching your sore muscles. “You have the biggest ego I have ever seen on someone.”

“Not just my ego that is big,” he retorts.

You ignore his cockiness; it will somehow end up with you back in his arms if you do. Instead, you walk into his bathroom, rinsing your face and using the toilet.

When you emerge, he is half dressed, wearing his pants. He looks up at you when you exit, “I will walk you back to your room,” he offers.

“It isn’t on the way to Lui Kang, you will be late.”

“It will be fine; I’d rather see you get back unseen and safe.” He says as he walks into the bathroom himself.

When he’s back in your view you watch him finish dressing himself, pulling his hair back quickly into his signature bun. He looked breathtaking with his hair down, remembering last night makes you blush. Mindlessly you continue to watch Bi-Han get himself ready.

His eyes catch yours and he walks towards you, leaning down to you he asks, “Why are you blushing?”

“No reason,” you smile at him, kissing him on the nose.

He hums softly, “I’m sure.”

He turns to put his boots on, when they’re on he looks back at you, reaching his hand out. You take it and he pulls you to him, he gives you a heated kiss. The kind he gives you just to take your breath away and leave you wanting more.

When he pulls back, he says to you, “Come on, sweet girl.”

You pull him in for a hug, feeling the need to hold him close for a moment. He allows it, rubbing his hands up and down your back. Soothing you, it’s another intimate moment that has you feeling warm.

When you pull back you say, “okay, I’m ready now.”

He smiles at you curiously but you both walk out of his room and head toward your own, you are grateful for the company on the walk back. You are also grateful that he shows you a path less crowded, avoiding anyone who might be up and around.

Both of you remain unseen, but Bi-Han is particularly alert to your surroundings as you walk back regardless. It makes you feel safe, having him keep a watchful eye. For the first time in a while, you don’t feel like you have to be attuned to everything around you and you’re thankful for it.

Now that you are both alone you broach the topic of being more alert of your volumes while in the throes of passion, “we should be more careful Bi-Han, it’s embarrassing to me that Kuai heard us last night.”

He sighs, “Mmm, you may try to be quieter, but I doubt you will be successful.”

“I will be quieter, next time.” You feel determined now, as if he issued you a challenge.

He hums thoughtfully, “we will see.”

The rest of the walk is pleasant, albeit electric. You want him badly, but you’re aware of what is important right now. He has a meeting, and you have training, you kept repeating this to yourself as a reminder.

In front of your room, you look both ways before leaning up and kissing him, you go to pull away, but his mouth follows yours. He groans into your mouth, deepening the kiss for a brief moment before ultimately pulling back himself.

You’re a touch out of breath as you say, “thank you, for walking me back to my room.”

“You are most welcome, sweet girl.” His hand reaches to your cheek, thumb rubbing your cheekbone. He double checks the area and then leans in again, pressing a quick peck to your lips that you return.

“I will see you later.”

And then he’s gone, walking back the way you came. Yes, this morning had been perfect indeed.

❆˖°

Lucky for you, you are not late to training. Even though you had to spend extra time finding a shirt with a neck high enough to cover the hickey’s you had forgotten Bi-Han had given you. The very orange training outfit sits on top of the borderline turtleneck you’re wearing under it.

As you walk through the Fire Temple, you realise that Kuai would have seen your skin littered with marks earlier and that makes you feel so fucking embarrassed. It’s bad enough that he heard you last night, it’s worse that he saw obvious evidence of it. You try to push it out of your mind, the damage is done now anyways.

Though when you walk into the training area, you are praying that no one asks you questions about the turtleneck, it’s sleeveless so it’s just the neck poking out from under your shirt. You aren’t sure if that’s more suspicious though, maybe you should’ve just worn make up, or are you overthinking again? Probably the last option.

If you’re being honest, this orange outfit is very bright. Not your personal tastes, you feel like a large, well… orange. Or maybe a traffic cone. If you had your own pick, you would be wearing something else, but you also find it cute how you’re all matching.

“Happy morning, boys!” You call out to everyone, is that a phrase people use? Are you too chipper? Do you usually behave like this? You’re very self-conscious after Kuai Liang heard everything last night.

You’ve been taking it like a champ but if you find out one more person heard you, you might cry on the spot.

“Happy morning?” Kenshi asks.

“Yeah, it’s the same as good morning, I don’t understand your confusion.” It’s not something you’ve said or heard other people say before, so you do understand his confusion actually, your nervousness is turning you into a gas lighter.

They all stand there looking at you like you’re boo boo the fool, Raiden breaks the awkward silence, “…happy morning to you too.”

You are going to explode into a shower of blood rain, you need to get it together. You’d think it’s your first day on Earth.

Thankfully, Johnny also brushes right past your weirdness, “you ready to face me today, darlin?”

Ah, you’re sparring against each other today, you had forgotten. Sparring against Johnny isn’t necessarily something you’re worried about, it’s the fact that you got fucked into next week and your muscles are yelling at you. Today is gonna be one bitch of a day.

You don’t falter though, “you know it, I’ll be taking you down, Hollywood.” That felt more normal, pats on the back for you.

You guess Johnny just signed you both up for going first. A new problem has formed of this situation though, if you let him get the upper hand you can bow out while he spars with the next person, which means you could take it easy for the first half of training. However, you are competitive and don’t want to throw the round. Which, if you manage to out manoeuvre him, will mean you continue to spar with the next person.

This exercise is meant to be light-hearted, hand to hand sparring. Learning to get a feel against a real opponent. You’re going to have to make a real attempt to not be so competitive. Afterall, this isn’t a competition. It’s a sparring exercise.

Both you and Johnny move over to a clear area and position yourselves in the official defensive stances you’ve been taught. Something that does not come naturally to you, you’ve had previous fighting experience, and it contradicts the methods you’re being taught while here.

He moves at you first, kicking out and aiming at your side, very predictable of him. You move back at the kick, dodging it. He continues to move closer towards you, a right hook coming at you, you duck down and punch his side, throwing off his centre of balance slightly. You move, rounding him until you’re facing his back. You kick the back of his knee, and he goes down.

His palms stop him from faceplanting into the ground, you step on his back pushing him down further. You drop on him and bring your arms around his neck, putting him in a chokehold. His arms come up to yours wrapped around his neck and try pulling you off. You’re being careful not to actually apply any pressure to his neck but you’re holding firm in your position. Pulling back on him slightly, his back bends.

His hands give up on trying to pull out of the choke hold and instead he flops to the ground properly. He rolls taking you with him, you imagine it’s quite the scene to watch. Laying all of his weight on you manages to loosen your grip around his neck and he takes the opportunity to quickly switch around so he’s facing you.

He has the upper hand now and he’s pinning your arms to the ground by your wrists, “Wanna tap out, sugar?”

Such a flirt, you think, “I don’t think so, sugar.”

It hurts a bit as you do it, due to the fact you were in this kind of position under very different circumstances last night. You reach your legs up, and knee his stomach slightly as you do, giving yourself more room to move. They continue up and through his arms that are pinning you down. Manoeuvring them around his neck and clamping down. Using the momentum, you’ve gained to sway him to the side.

Once you’re on top again, your thighs are by his head, or more accurately, squeezing his neck. You lean your upper half back slightly and grab his wrists in both of your hands, pulling his arms back behind you to pin him to the spot. Thighs holding him in place.

The position is unorthodox, something that you were not taught during your time here, but you didn’t want him to win. Not that you’re being competitive or anything.

You look down at him and he wiggles his eyebrows, “I don’t mind this position.” He has a shit eating grin on his face.

You shake your head at him, “Does that mean you’re tapping out?”

“If I do, can we stay like this?” His question filled with suggestion; he is very bold.

“I am not releasing you until you tap out.” Your gaze filled with nothing but the desire to win.

His grin gets wider, a full-blown smile now, “then I don’t tap out.”

“Johnny, c’mon,” your voice is laced with a pleading annoyance.

He tries to supress his smile but fails, you can hear the guys off to the side groaning too. You look to them for support. “Guys, help?”

Kung Lao looks at you with an apologetic albeit amused face, “I don’t know what you want me to do here, just let him up.”

You make an unhappy face at Kung Lao and look back down at Johnny, “just tap out man, I need to hear you say you concede.”

“I don’t.” He says cheekily.

You roll your eyes at him but then you feel it, the tell-tale sign that Bi-Han is staring at you. A shiver running down your spine, one that you’ve learnt to suppress the outward signs of.

Looking up, you lock eyes with Bi-Han, he’s off to the side, Lui Kang, Kuai Liang, and Tomas with him. He’s giving you angry eyes; you aren’t really concerned with why right now though. You are concerned with winning.

You continue to pin Johnny, unwilling to let him up until he admits defeat, but it’s almost like an unstoppable force meets an immovable object.

“Johnny, just say you tap out.” You ask him again.

“He does,” comes Bi-Han’s booming voice from above, cutting off anything Johnny was about to say. He had moved closer surprisingly quick.

“Hey man, I can speak for myself,” he looks up to Bi-Han.

This whole situation is ridiculous, you look over to Kuai and he looks very on edge. Bi-Han’s eyes look like he’s considering various way to commit murder right now.

Johnny looks up at you, ignoring Bi-Han, “I concede.” He smiles at you.

“Thank you,” you sigh, moving to unpin him and get up.

He keeps smiling at you, laying on the floor, “you can stay where you are though if you’d like.”

You roll your eyes at him, “In your dreams, Hollywood.”

When you’re off him, you lean down and offer him your hand, helping him off the floor. You found it all quite funny if you’re honest, but by the look on Bi-Han’s face, he did not. Not by a long shot.

“Alright, who do you want to spar against next, sugar?” Johnny asks.

You laugh, “that’s all you, I need a break after putting up with you.”

He chuckles at your response but points at Kenshi, “C’mon tattoo, you’re up.”

Kenshi lets out a sigh and rolls his eyes at Johnny, already reaching his limit for putting up with him for today. That’s a new record, Kenshi can normally put up with him until lunch.

You walk off to the side and move to stand beside Kuai Liang, Bi-Han follows behind you, and he stops when you do. You’re sandwiched between the two of them right now, you feel nervous, like you’re in trouble with the principle or something. Lui Kang and Tomas are next to Kuai Liang on his other side.

The position you had Johnny in was compromising, sure, you can see that. But on the other hand, you literally had him in a choke hold. You were sparring with him and trying to win, you’re missing something that would make Bi-Han’s borderline repressed rage make sense for you.

Lui Kang breaks the tension, “very impressive, how you took him down, I am sorry to have missed most of it.”

“Thank you, if only he didn’t enjoy it so much, I’d take more pride in it.” You tell Lui Kang, though you’re grateful for the compliment.

You had felt pretty proud of yourself at the takedown of a man larger than yourself, especially when your muscles are sore and achy today, but that was a little undone when Bi-Han was emitting murderous vibes.

“I don’t think he can help himself,” Lui Kang says in reference to Johnny.

You snicker a bit at Lui Kang’s statement, you don’t think Johnny can help himself either, but he seems kind-hearted. The friendships you’ve created amongst everyone here are very important to you, and most important to you is Bi-Han.

Your hand is itching to reach out for him, but you feel like he’s cross with you, and you aren’t up for the embarrassment of him possibly pulling away from you right now. Not after such a good morning with him, waking up in his arms is what has kept you so positive today.

Looking up at him you try and decipher what he’s thinking right now, his face has fallen back into his usual stoic look. Though he is staring at Johnny, eyes alight with thinly veiled anger.

You turn to your other side and look at Kuai Liang, he meets your eyes and leans down to whisper to you, “he has never been good at sharing.”

Oh. Oh.

It’s clicked for you; you knew he was angry, but you didn’t know exactly why. It was just a training exercise, one you were trying to win however you could, but to Bi-Han it might have looked different.

You whisper back to Kuai, “thanks.”

He nods once at you before looking forward again, watching Kenshi and Johnny spar. It is quite the sight, they’re a bit less restrained than what your round with Johnny was. You don’t know if that’s because Kenshi is actually trying to harm Johnny or because you’re a woman and they go easy on you. That stings a little if it’s the latter, you deserve the respect of a proper fight.

You go to move closer to Raiden and Kung Lao, planning to re-join the training but Bi-Han’s hand grabs onto your wrist. Keeping you in place beside him, it makes your heart flutter. He pulls away fairly quickly, not lingering for too long, for fear of the others seeing. But the small action makes you feel a little better, he’s pissed but he still wants you near him.

Johnny loses to Kenshi; you think if he hadn’t fought you first, they might have ended up in a stalemate.

Kenshi points to you from where he’s standing, “you’re up again, sugar.”

You laugh, apparently that’s catching on amongst the group. You can feel Bi-Han stiffen beside you. Not enjoying any of this.

“Gimmie a sec,” you call out to him. Turning to Bi-Han you say, “calm down, please.” You say it softly enough so to anyone else it’s inaudible.

You walk over to Kenshi, ready to spar again. Bi-Han lets you go this time, knowing he can’t make a scene but really wanting to.

You beat Kenshi but only barely, you’re tired and sore. Which you do complain about, but after Kenshi, you stop trying to go so hard. You spar against Raiden and Kung Lao, but you are stuck on defensive, attack isn’t your strong suit and with how tired you are the most you can do is hope to out manoeuvre them, not able to pull anything like what you did with Johnny in the first round. Not unless you want to injure yourself.

If you were using a weapon, you would fare better but alas, you are but a woman who got fucked silly last night and already sparred against two men. And two out of two, is a pretty good score. You take your losses like a champ and take your wins like a champ too.

The rest of training was hell for Bi-Han, you could tell by the way his eyes never left your form. His anger increasing with every hand that was on your waist or flirtatious remark made, ones you did not return. Ones that had him pissed anyways.

He normally wouldn’t stay for this, finding it a waste of his time to watch armatures train but he stayed today. The whole time, he stayed, and he watched you.

❆˖°

There wasn’t a second of the day where you were alone, and not a second you could slip away either. You probably could’ve made an excuse, but you feel that might have been too obvious, mostly because if you had managed a moment to yourself Bi-Han would’ve followed you wherever you went. Meaning any attempt, you made to be inconspicuous would have gone out the window.

Either way, the result was your whole day being spent with everyone, while a very watchful Bi-Han never strayed too far from you. You have only just now been released from the company of everyone, and it’s already evening.

Finally, back in your own room and able to shower, enjoying the hot water running over your body. It’s been a long day, and the heat of the shower is helping to cleanse the hard day off your skin. Muscles completely relaxing under the stream, you’ve been tense all day, partly because of training but mostly because of the eyes watching you.

Your mind drifts to Bi-Han, jealousy looked hot on him, it also looked… deadly. You might have to sneak back over to his room again tonight, to talk with him. Assure him that you want no one else, maybe talk to him about what exactly is happening between the two of you.

Spending the night in Bi-Han’s bed sounds inviting, waking up in his arms tomorrow would be nice. The urge to be domestic with him is growing, something simple, like breakfast together or maybe a date? You think you’d like that, being asked on a date, taken somewhere and doted on. The idea makes your cheeks blush softly, not that it’s noticeable, the water is running hot; your skin already flush. Turning off the water, you exit the shower. Pulling the fresh towel off the sinks basin, you dry yourself off and then wrap it around your body.

When you leave the bathroom the last thing you expect to see is Bi-Han waiting for you, standing in the middle of your quarters; arms crossed over his chest and an angry look in his eyes. It isn’t what you expected to see but if you’re honest with yourself, you could have predicted it. He looked like he wanted to speak with you all day, it’s not shocking that he didn’t wait for you to go to him. He is not patient; you already know this about him.

He just stares at you, like he has been doing all day, so you speak first, “Hello?”

You probably could have picked something more eloquent to say but you aren’t sure of yourself right now. Plus, you feel exposed, he’s fully dressed and you’re in a towel, and you’re damp. Really, he could’ve waited an extra minute or something and you would’ve been more prepared for whatever he’s about to say.

“I am not… pleased,” he’s straining himself trying to express how he honestly feels. It would be amusing if you didn’t feel so self-conscious right now.

“I noticed.” You don’t really know where he’s going with this, so you don’t have anything else to offer in response.

He takes a breath, “Today was a challenge, for me, watching others touch you, flirt with you.” His words come out with empty space between them, empty but filled with his bitten back rage.

You feel bad, honestly but you felt like no lines were seriously crossed, not for you anyways.

“Bi-Han, it was harmless, they are harmless. I am not interested in any of them.”

You can tell he is trying so hard for you, trying so hard not to lose his cool, “That may be true, but they are certainly interested in you.”

“They’re my friends, they are not interested in me.” You tell him because you genuinely believe it.

“They want you.” His upper lip pulls into a scowl.

You shake your head at him, “What makes you think that?”

“The way they look at you,” he says, his arms straining against his chest.

You don’t really know what he means, “they… look, at me?”

“They look at you how I look at you.” His eyes squint at you, adding emphasis to his statement.

You smile a little, “and how do you look at me?”

His head lowers to his chest, eyes harsh as he pins you with a look “with want.”

You don’t really know what to offer him right now, “What would make you feel better?”

“Their deaths,” he shoots back quickly.

You roll your eyes at him, “you aren’t killing them.”

“Then, I want them to know you’re taken.”

You exhale sharply, “But you said–”

“–I know what I said,” he cuts you off abruptly, his eyes emotive.

The room is quiet, you’re giving him time to pull his thoughts together. It’s obvious he has more to say, he just doesn’t know how to. Your gaze wanders over him, his arms, his chest, his neck, lips, eyes, his very pretty eyes.

You go to speak, not able to keep your thoughts to yourself, ���Bi-Han, I like you, and I only want you. I don’t know how much that helps, but it’s what I’ve wanted to say to you all day.”

His gaze softens slightly at your words, you’ve offered him at least some solace, “It helps.”

You’re glad it does, “now, I need to change, could you turn around, please?” You ask. Preferring to continue this conversation fully clothed.

He makes a face, like he’s deep in thought, “why would I? I’ve seen you naked before.”

You look at him, unamused. To get dressed in front of someone is a very vulnerable display, you’d rather he just turns around for a minute. Especially since his eyes have a way of devouring you.

He shrugs his shoulders at you, “I wouldn’t bother dressing.”

“And why is that?” You ask.

“Cause I’m ‘bout to fuck you.” He stalks toward you, placing a hand on your hip and the other on your face; his thumb traces your bottom lip. “Gonna fuck you right, enough so you can’t train tomorrow.”

“Should I be concerned?” You ask, mostly to tease but he’s also got the look of a beast hunting its prey. It sends chills through your body, his words making you buzz with excitement.

“Yes.” His eyes look over your neck and collarbones, the marks he left last night still there. They’ve bloomed into dark purples, the softer ones a yellow.

His hand on your cheek slides down to your neck, touching the marks he had left. His eyes have fire in them, pleased with the hickeys he’s left on you. His expression is making your body temperature rise. You don’t know what he’s going to do to you but it’s thrilling, the way he takes you in.

“It’s a shame you hid these today, left them to be seen.” His eyes don’t leave the marks on your skin.

“It was embarrassing enough for Kuai to see them.”

He smiles and looks into your eyes, his smile is humourless, “I don’t care.”

You pout at him, you wish he would, he’s completely shameless. The one who brought up keeping this entanglement a secret but not doing anything to keep it that way.

“Mmm, you’re at my mercy tonight, completely.” He informs you.

That surprises you, “I wasn’t last night?”

His smile turns ravenous, “not even close, sugar.” He spits out the nickname, like it’s burnt him. Showing his disdain for your newly ordained nickname amongst the guys, courtesy of Johnny.

“Don’t call me that.” You don’t wanna be called that, not by him.

“Why not? Don’t like it?”

You shake your head at him.

“Like when I call you sweet girl?” He asks, gently.

Nodding your head at him, you say, “prefer it.”

“’Course you do.”

He leans down to you, lips catching yours, this kiss is languid at first. Searching, he takes his time, working you open slowly. His thumb eventually pulls your jaw down, opening your mouth for him, tongue entering it. He hums against you, always pleased at how pliant and willing you are.

Pulling back from your lips, he says as much, “the virtue of politeness, sometimes think you’d let me do whatever I want.”

“I would.” It’s honest, your words. You don’t mean for them to come out at all, let alone that quickly.

It should concern you, how willing you are. But the man has such an odd effect on you. Nothing has ever felt like this, you’ve had very few relationships, and they don’t even hold a candle to the way you feel for Bi-Han. The vulnerability you display with him makes you feel… well, vulnerable.

His eyes are bright at your admission, loving the way you agreed, “good, sweet girl.”

His face leans into your neck, inhaling your skin. You tilt your head back, giving him more room and he hums appreciatively. He lays gentle kisses against your skin, at least, at first he does, then he bites you. In the crook of where your neck meets your shoulder, he bites down hard enough to leave a mark.

The pain makes jump slightly, a strangled noise coming from you. His tongue laves over the spot, soothing it. His lips kiss up your neck and jaw, before taking yours in a heated kiss. Fervent, filled with need. His kiss deep and long, it pulls a whine from you, a noise you were trying to conceal. You haven’t forgotten you want to try and be quieter.

Bi-Han keeps kissing you, tongue borderline reverent, worshipping your mouth. Swallowing the noises you make against him. Your arms clutching the fabric of his shirt, holding on. Feeling as though, if you were to let go, you’d fall into an invisible pit below you. Your grip on him grounding you, barely.

When he pulls back, it’s to let you catch your breath for a moment. Huffing against his mouth faintly, he takes the opportunity of your mouth being open to lean in again and place more full kisses on your lips, pulling back after each one but they’re all filled with the desire he carries for you.

His kisses are overwhelming you, your eyes wet with need, he’s done nothing but kiss you and it’s setting you on fire. Using the hands on his chest you push him back slightly.

His hands move to cradle your face, one of them brushing your damp hair back, “what’s wrong, sweet girl?”

“Devastating, your kisses… are devastating.” Eyes big as you look up at him.

He smiles down at you, “good, they’re meant to be.” His eyes, always his eyes, so much depth, yearning, “I want you needy, want you overcome by me, want you to think of nothing but me, consumed by your own cravings.”

He pauses for a moment before adding, “want you to feel, how I feel about you.”

Heart pounding at his words, you need him to know, “I already do feel that way.”

“No, you don’t… but you will, when I’m finished with you.”

He kisses you again, holding your head in his hands; moving you so your mouth slots against his, the cruel kiss a contrast to the gentle cradle he's holding you in. Sliding his hands down to your hips he guides you to your bed, removing his mouth from yours to push you back on the bed.

Holding your towel as you fall, you flop against the mattress, bouncing a bit as your back hits it. You adjust yourself, so you’re resting on your forearms, Bi-Han is watching you from above deliberating his next move. He settles on undressing his upper half and removing his boots, leaving his pants on. The process takes a bit, the man wears far too many layers, but you enjoy the show anyways.

Then his hands are reaching for you, he pulls at your towel. You go to hold onto it and his eyes move to yours, “off.”

“I’m shy,” you sulk at him.  

He scoffs in return, “too bad.” And then he’s pulling it off and out from under you, your back lying flat on the bed again. The display of his strength making your pussy throb.

Your hands move to cover your chest, legs closed together. Being completely bare in front of someone is always a little nerve-wracking at first. Especially when he’s making you feel like you’re about to be eaten whole. That and because he’s still wearing pants, it’s making you feel overexposed compared to him, you guess, at least he took off his shirt.

He shakes his head at you, he crawls onto the bed and over top of you, knees resting either side your thighs. He nods towards your hands covering your chest, “c’mon, sweet girl, be good for me.”

Damn, well now you have to, you want to be good for him. Bastard. You move your arms away, dropping them beside your head.

“Thas a good girl.” He smiles at you; he has a pretty smile.

His praise goes straight to your core, your thighs rub together mindlessly in response. Seeking friction on their own accord. He’s dragging this out, not touching you anywhere, not with his hands anyways.

Moving closer to you, his lips peck yours, and then the side of your face, down to your neck again. He licks over the bite mark he left, before moving further down, marks being left in his wake. More hickeys will be blooming on you tomorrow morning. He’s trailed down between your breasts, sucking a mark between them both before catching one of your nipples in his mouth.

The feeling has your back arching off the bed, his tongue flicks at it. He bites it softly as he pulls away, switching to the other and giving it the same attention as the first.

His mouth moves back up your body, sucking more marks into you as he goes. You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet, this needy, you didn’t think you could get this wet.

Slick spread over your inner thighs, leaking from you as he presses his wet mouth against your skin. It’s the longest he’s teased you with his mouth without speaking. You, yourself are breathless, not able to string together a coherent sentence. Actively avoiding it too, biting at your own lips to keep your sounds from reaching the air.

He leans back to marvel at your skin, shiny from the wet marks his mouth has left, already beginning to bloom pinks and reds. He looks unbelievably pleased with himself and his handy work.

“Mm, perfect, look fucken perfect all marked up by my mouth.” His eyes look back into yours. Eyes thrilled at the need in your own.

“Bi-Han, please.” You aren’t quite sure what exactly you’re asking for, but he seems to know.

He shushes you as he shuffles a bit, slipping one of his legs between yours to spread them open. When he can see your pussy, he sees how wet you are, and he lets out a wolf whistle at it, grin enthusiastic as he looks at the evidence of your arousal.

“Fucken, look at you, sweet girl, sweet, needy girl.” His gaze is greedy, “haven’t even fucken, touched you.” He’s sincerely astonished by your bodies reaction to him.

Both his hands go to pull your legs apart properly, moving them to the outside of his thighs. Manoeuvring you how he pleases, your mind numbed and agreeable. Having forgotten your previous shyness.

“Gonna touch you now,” he warns you; you aren’t really sure why.

His thumbs pull your lips apart, and then he moves a finger through your slit; you understand his warning now. He has used his powers to make his hand ice, the cold a shock to your system. Both of your hands shoot up to cover your mouth.

The glide of his finger on your pussy is smooth, the wetness coming from you making it slick. He notches two of his fingers at your hole and then he’s pushing in, stilling them when they’re in as far as they’ll go, the freezing cold a shock, a whiny gasp coming muffled behind your hands. Your pussy hole flutters around his fingers, Bi-Han is awestruck, watching your cunt react to his cold fingers.

“Look at you, mmm, so wet, so messy, perfection.” He’s mumbling it more to himself than you, wouldn’t matter if he was talking to you, you’re a bit preoccupied right now.

His thumb reaches up to your clit, the sudden cold feels like a lot, feels devastating. He doesn’t move his thumb, just holds it there, adding pressure. Your hips rise marginally, seeking friction, wanting more. Wanting his fingers to move.

Taking the hint, his fingers start moving, pace increasing slowly, sliding in and out of you, then back into you, crooking to rub against something cataclysmic. The cold of his fingers a deep contrast to the hugging heat of your walls. Your cunt clenches down on his fingers harshly, the wet of your arousal and his ice fingers too slick to slow down his movements.

Your hands stay covering your mouth, muffling your whimpers but not stopping them. He’s finger fucking you in full earnest now, eyes never leaving the way your pussy pulls his fingers back in. He doesn’t want to miss a single moment, enjoying the shudders and clenches of your cunt against his fingers. The thumb on your clit starts moving, rubbing controlled circles into it.

It doesn’t take you long to cum at all. Your back bows off the bed, toward him, your eyes roll back in your head and a silent cry is pulled from you. Bi-Han groans, enjoying the sight of you blissed out.

“Mmm, thas it, perfect, just like that, sweet girl…” He continues babbling praises to you as you cum all over his ice-cold fingers.

The pleasure is foreign, never having experienced an orgasm this strong from just someone’s fingers. A statement that also was previously said about Bi-Han’s ability to finger fuck you into next year, he’s now bested his prior record. The introduction of his ice powers having an incredibly overwhelming effect on your pussy.

“Always so fucken sensitive,” it’s a compliment, he means it as one anyways.

He moves to press soft kisses onto your face, giving you a second to catch your breath and come back to Earth, having levitated to a higher plane temporarily.

When you can think coherently again you look him in the eyes, they feel foggy. He reaches his hand up and brushes a stray tear from your cheek, one you hadn’t realised fell.

“Not even close to being done with you yet, sweet girl. Need you to fucken, pull it together.”

You nod your head at him, “I’m here.”

“Good.” He replies simply.

He hops off you for a moment, removing his pants before coming back into your view. Back between your legs, positioning them on his hips again. He drags the head of his cock through your folds, he taps it against your clit a couple times, each tap sending a small shock through your body.

“Fuuuck, I’ve got an idea.” The smile on his face is downright diabolical. It sends a rush through you.

He puts the tip of his dick at your pussy hole, having used your arousal to coat his cock, easing the stretch and helping the slide as he presses into you. You let out small, contained whimpers, biting your lip again, hoping to remain quiet.

Bi-Han groans at the feel of you wrapped around him, closing his eyes, trying to control himself as he sinks deeper into you. Both his hands have an iron clad grip on your thighs, holding you open and grounding himself.

“I fffucked you last night and you’re still this – ngh – goddamntight.” He huffs out.

He pauses for a moment, takes a deep breath and then pushes all the way into you. The way he suddenly fucks into you taking you off guard.

“Bi-Hannnn” you moan out his name.

“Ah, there she is, my sweet, whiny, girl.” He has a cocky smirk on his face, “told you, you couldn’t be quiet.”

You roll your eyes at him, and he grinds down into you in response, unhappy at your response. “Don’t be rude, I’m being nice.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” you retort.

The smile on his face is amused, “trust me, I’m being downright chivalrous right now.”

He readjusts his gaze down to your cunt, a hand coming off your thigh and moving to your clit. His fingers begin thrumming against it, the first orgasm lingering in your veins. The taps serve your overstimulation, body and pussy jumping at each tap.

He smiles wide at your bodies reaction, groaning lightly at each jump of your cunt. Your hands move back to your mouth to conceal your moans again, he allows it, for now.

He starts tapping his fingers against your clit harder and faster, the pleasure sending you over the edge far quicker than your first orgasm. You clench down on his cock and cum all over it. Bi-Han lets out a repressed grunt at your orgasm.

“Haah – thas what I fucken wanted,” He’s satisfied with himself, hypothesis being proven correct, he can slap your pussy into an orgasm. “Tight little – do you think you can do that again?” He asks you.

You shake your head no at him and he tuts in response, “I think you can.”

He continues slapping your clit, the force he uses increasing. Speeding up once again, slapping your clit, forcing another orgasm from you. You cum with a yelp, the overstimulation becoming too much on your clit. Reaching your hands down you hold the hand that was slapping it still.

Looking up into your eyes, you can see a devious smile on his face, “you really are sensitive.”

His dick is twitching inside you, his own arousal evident. Rock hard and wanting but not giving himself anything more than kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock. He lets you hold his hand back, enjoying the way you’re squirming under and around him. Letting you have a moment to come down before he does whatever he has planned next.

“I want you to know, this is me reminding you who you belong to.” He’s removing your hand from his, placing both his hands back on your thighs and grinding his dick into you.

“I don’t – mmph – need a reminder – hah.” You never forgot.

“Seems like you do, gonna have to mark you up, have you cum around me so much that anyone else is completely ruined for you, by me.” He’s huffing softly, “Gonna fill you with my cum, leave marks on your body, have your muscles aching and sore, just so you can never forget who fucks you this good.”

You whine, cunt clenching down on him, you bite your lip again halfway through your whine, remembering to keep the volume down. Something not overtly necessary since your quarters are furthest from everyone else’s but not willing to take the chance anyhow.

He chuckles cruelly at you, “mine now, sweet girl. Can’t even leave if you tried.”

“Okay,” is your simple response because you are okay with it.

You gasp, “you can’t either though.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He begins to draw his hips back, fucking back into you unforgivingly, beginning a rough pace.

His cock bullies its way into you, over and over and over again. Fucking you stupid, making you dizzy, the previous orgasms furthering the euphoric, fucked out look on your face. Bi-Han lets out a wry laugh at the expression you’re making, only to be cut off by his own moan.

His hands move your thighs up, folding you in half, positioning himself up slightly and fucking directly down into you. Using your thighs as leverage.

His eyes watch the way your cunt swallows him, loving the way you take all of him. His head moves forward and bites the part of your thigh just about your knee. The pain sending pleasure rolling down your spine, hips rising to grind into his thrusts, pussy clenching down onto him.

“Gods, the way you let me do whatever – ngh – I want to you, gonna blow my load thinking about it.” He gasps melodiously.

The room filled with the sound of skin slapping skin, your supressed whimpers and Bi-Hans bitten back gasps. You clamp down onto him so tightly his pace falters for a second, you’re cumming around him again.

He stops thrusting immediately when he realises you are, he rubs at your clit to help it along but won’t continue thrusting into you. You ride out your high, waves of pleasure crashing over you, eyes dazed and unseeing as you spasm around his length. Soft groans and whimpers are coming from Bi-Han as you cum around him for the third time.

When you’re back in your body, Bi-Han looks feral from holding back, holding off on his own orgasm. Wanting you to cum on his dick an undetermined number of times.

Once he’s calmed down and is sure he isn’t going to cum prematurely, he starts fucking back into you, same burning pace. He moves your legs over the crook in each of his arms, cradling your legs and holding onto your hips.

Including the three he coaxed from you, it’s another additional two orgasms before he says, “last one, last one and then – nghhhh – I’m cumming inside you so – mphh – deep, I’ll be leaking from you tomorrow.”

You blush at his words, babbling nonsense, having given up on repressing the noises you make an orgasm ago, “mmmkay, I – ngh – want it Grandmasterrr…”

“And you’ll – fffffucken take it – nghhh–”

He fucks into you, hitting something deep, it feels different from all the other orgasms, you try to warn him, “fffeels different, Bi-Hannnn, is too much – I can’t –”

“You can and you – mphh – will,” he bites back.

You’re shaking your head at him, eyes large and wet, “nooo, mm feels like I’m gonna pee–”

His face lights up excited, “you aren’t going to pee.”

You’re still shaking your head at him, but his hand reaches up, off your hip and grabs onto your face, squishing your cheeks between is large fingers.

“Look atme – ngh – let. it. happen.” His tone is demanding.

“Yes, Grandmaster.”

His smile is large and beautiful, his pace never stopping. Now dedicating his full attention back to fucking you. The tip of his cock bullying the spot that’s responsible for the foreign feeling. Specifically angling his thrusts to drive into the spot.

His hand slides from your face down to your tits, grabbing one of them and twisting your nipple, sending a sharp pleasurable feeling through you, before continuing the move down and landing on your hip again. Using his grip to encourage the force of his thrusts.

And then suddenly, you’re cumming, hard, Bi-Han’s eyes watch, fucked out, as you cum around him. Cunt tight, vice like grip on his cock. The sight of you cumming and the feeling driving him over the edge. A sharp biting sensation at your hips, you’re too fucked out to register what caused it at the moment.

His cum fills you up, spilling out around his dick, leaking out onto the bed between your bodies.

You’re gasping as you begin registering the things around you again, first noticing the thin layer of ice on your hips, evidence of Bi-Han completely losing control for a moment. And then noticing how wet Bi-Han’s pelvis is, all down his thighs, all down your thighs.

You stumble over your words, “I – I’ve never, I didn’t think–”

“–You fucken, squirted all over me, hottest thing I’ve ever seen, my sweet, sweet, sensitive girl.”

He drops your legs from where they’re resting on his arms, untangling you from him and then leaning down and kissing you deeply. You return his kiss and whimper into his mouth. When he pulls back, he kisses away the tears you shed from the devastating force of the orgasm he just gave you.

His pride is practically blinding you, his ego massively inflated right now, “you’ve got such a creamy little cunt, I thought you’d be able to squirt for me–”

Your hands shoot up and cover his mouth to stop him from talking, his words that serve as compliments to him always embarrass you. He’s too blunt, it makes your skin hot.

“Too descriptive.” You tell him.

He mumbles against your hands, “what?” You ask him and pull your hands back.

He smirks at you, “you like it, I can be even more descriptive, if you’d like.”

You shake your head at him, “that was embarrassing.” Your words are all slurred right now. No energy to talk properly.

“Shouldn’t be, it was hot, means I fucked you right,” he whispers into your ear, “means I’ve ruined all other men for you.”

And he has, but “that was true before,” you turn your head to the side and press a kiss to his cheek.

He pulls his cock out of you, both of you hissing at the feeling, then he rolls off you and lays flat on his back.

“Sweet girl, always trying to kill me.”

You look over to him, eyes glazed, “do you feel better now?”

“Slightly, would feel better if they could all see the marks I left on you.”

You chuckle, “nice try, they’re not seein the light of day.”

He groans out, “we’ll see.” He pats his chest, signalling for you to cuddle into him.

You move over slightly before giving up, too tired and too sore, “can’t move.”

He rolls his eyes at you but gently moves you towards him, also moving closer himself to make it as painless as possible for you.

Your head rests on his chest and you cuddle into his side, “you’re changing my sheets,” you inform him.

He sighs from above you, “fine, but next time, you’re sitting on my face.”

❆˖°

A/N: You guys know the drill; I do not apologise for the horny, we embrace it here! Thank you for reading the whole thing!! I love you all and I hope you enjoyed it, please, if you have any thoughts, feelings, or requests, leave a comment or message me! I love the feedback I have been getting, I added some peoples suggestions into this chapter, I wasn’t super active this week because I tried functioning like a normal human being (I mostly failed) but I saw comments and likes coming in and it keeps me motivated and super grateful to you all. <333

Part four <3

[bigassmoonchild]

this may have been in my head for a few days

but

everyone thinking simons in charge in the household and that hes the one to tell off the kids and everything but they find out that no hes the laid back parent and the head of the household is this 5 foot 8 woman who ends up keeping the boys in line and simons just there smirking at them for thinking he was the bossy one

i keep saying i love the ideas you guys have, but you all are honestly doing so good with these (keep them coming, i'll try to actually answer my inbox when i don't feel like dogwater <3)

you'd bugged and pestered and fought simon for nearly two weeks before he'd finally allowed you to invite the 141 for dinner. 'i just want to meet your other family, si,' you whispered to him one night. 'just wanna know the people who are saving your ass,' and he huffed and nudged you.

after weeks of fighting with him, the taskforce was finally allowed into his home. 'what d'ye think his missus is like?' soap nudged gaz, snickering from the backseat. they were all buckled up, as simon was driving them because he knew the way home. price had made sure they'd buckled up.

'i dunno,' gaz answered simply. 'she's gotta be a beast to be able to deal with the lieutenant,' he added. soap shrugged, gave a noncommittal noise.

'feel like l.t is the one running the house. he's got the military training, after all,' and simon had to stop himself from laughing. him? running the house? that you took care of when he was away? and the kids, who were sometimes the literal spawn of satan? it was funny. genuinely.

and as he pulled up the driveway, he watched as you came onto the front porch. a nice little sundress, one he especially loved on you, and some little kitten heels. christ, he'd have a hard time keeping away from you today.

parking the car, he opened the door and was the first one to greet you. pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek, and allowing you to greet everyone. price gave you a soft handshake, thanking you for inviting them all over. soap, the bastard, pressed a kiss to the top of your hand. your eyes rolled, a little smile forming on your face.

gaz gave you a little wave, smiling softly. he was always rather quiet, but from what simon had told you he'd warm up. you invited them all in, sliding your heels off before stepping fully into the house. simon followed suit, pulling his boots off as price followed his lead.

soap, on the other hand, tried to walk on your freshly cleaned floors. you stopped sharply, staring the man down. 'if you get mud on my clean floors i will wipe it clean with you,' and he blinked at you. there was a few little giggles from upstairs, and you gave simon a little gesture upstairs.

'i can get you guys something to drink? water, maybe some whiskey?' you asked, waiting to move until gaz and soap had both taken their boots off. gaz shook his head, muttering something about being okay.

'water is fine for us, ma'am,' price spoke for him and soap. there were more little whispers and hushed whines coming from upstairs. soap peaked up the stairs, but they turned just at the top so he couldn't see what was happening.

you gestured to the living room around you. 'please, make yourselves at home. simons home is yours, afterall,' and they thanked you. simon had come back down, helping you hand waters off to the others. a few little footsteps came from upstairs, and two little girls appeared there.

'i tried to tell them that the makeup wouldn't work today, lovie,' simon whispered, just loud enough for soap to hear. he turned to see bright pink blush spread across their faces, some lipstick spread halfway to their chins. they watched you take a deep breath.

it was silent for a moment, a little smile coming from you. 'how did you get into my makeup?' and neither of them answered. 'while it is quite pretty, i'm sure our company would much rather see your pretty faces without anything,' and they stood there for a moment.

you stared at the two kids, who looked at their feet. simon stifled a little laugh as the 141 turned to look at him. 'upstairs,' you told them. 'clean that off, make yourselves presentable and come back down when you're ready,' you spoke calmly. they huffed a little, heard a hum from you and hustled on upstairs.

for some time, the group of you spoke. you'd talked about how simon had reacted in the hospital room ('christ, john, he actually passed out. full on, and the nurses just left him there,') and the group cackled.

simon had taken to helping you plenty, keeping the kids humored enough to not begin complaining, refilling drinks and helping set the table.

'sam, honey,' simon spoke up. 'please don't play with your food, if you don't want to eat it, that's okay. we should save it if not,' and she gave a little huffed whine.

'but daaaad,' she complained. 'there's nothing else to do,' and the group watched as you looked to said girl.

sam looked down at the food, dropping the fork. 'sam, apologize to your father,' and soap found himself stifling a laugh. a little girl, apologizing to the big, bad ghost? she did it, rather unhappily, but perked her voice up after you gave another look.

outside of that, dinner went quite well. the other little girl, sara, had kept to her manners. simon took to taking them to get ready for bed while you cleaned dishes with the help of soap.

'diddnae think that you'd be the one to be uptight with the kids,' he spoke softly. price and gaz were in the other room, helping to clean up the living area. 'thought it would've been simon doing all a' that,' you gave a little laugh.

shaking your head, you handed him another plate to dry. 'no, he's the cool parent. he doesn't have to take care of the kids early during school. he gets lucky, they're real bastards when they want to be,' and you gave a fond little laugh. 'love them to death, believe me, but they really take after their father,' and soap laughed with you.

christ, the 141 hadn't been expecting this at all, but it was different seeing their lieutenant be the relaxed person. it was nice, honestly. seeing him finally relax fully in the comfort of his little family.

'don't tell him i told you, but there's another on the way,' you whispered into soaps ear and he spun to look at you, surprise etched on his face.

[periwinkleserulean]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐཋ ROOMMATE！dabi/t. touya x fem！reader

━━ trying to find an apartment while trying to save money is hard, thankfully someone saw your post and decided to message you！

━━ reader is indicated to be smaller than dabi, dabi is nicer here but lowkey one of "those" guys at school. dabi's personality was changed to be more laid back and less aggressive, so it's quite ooc. so if you want it to be canon go away this is my fic, my choice 😞.

━━ requests are open ！

ㅤTHE DOOR QUICKLY OPENED after you heard the music tone down, you were met with cerulean eyes looking down at you “Hey, come in.” the male moved to the side so you could get inside, you quickly did so and took in the sight of him. Dabi had pure white messy hair, he wore a white tank top that hugged his torso perfectly, he was wearing black sweatpants that hung loosely on his hips, he also had piercings on his face and ears. You decided to stop staring and looked at your surroundings.

ㅤ“That's the kitchen, obviously.” Dabi pointed at your guys’ left, the kitchen was mostly made out of marble and had silver accents. He walked a bit and pointed again “That's the living area, on the left that's my room, on the right would be your room. Both rooms have their own walk-in closets and bathrooms, so you don't need to have a race who gets to shower first. Lastly, the one in the middle is both the storage and laundry room.”

ㅤHe kept pointing to the directions of the rooms, it was simple but the apartment itself was quite large, even if you just stood in the hallway you'd be able to see the majority of the interior. “Geez, your apartment is quite fancy, kinda worried for how much all of this costs.” You felt a bead of sweat drop from your face. “Don't be, I pay for most of the rent depending on my roommate. How much can you afford?” “Uhm,, like ¥50,000. max.” “Then I'll pay for 75%. Not like it'll damage my pockets or something.” Your eyes widen. “Isn't that unfair to you?” “Nah, So are you taking the place or what?”

ㅤYou thought about it, it was a pretty good deal and the place is amazing. “I'll take it, when can I move in?” “Anytime, you can even move in right now, I don't really mind. I can even help you get your stuff and crap.” Your eyes light up at that, your place is filled with boxes since you were so ready to move and leave. “Really? Let's go back to my place then! Although I should warn you, I have a lot of stuff so get your back ready..” “There's nothing I can't handle [name].” The way your name rolled off his tongue made your spine feel tingly and cheeks warm, you watched Dabi get a coat and car keys from a rack hanger near the door. “Come on you slow-poke.” He called out, without looking behind him. You held onto your bag and walked to the door and exited the apartment with him.

ㅤDabi was walking in front of you while you followed, the both of you heading to the apartment's parking lot. He pressed a button on his keys and his car made a sound, a black Lexus LFA. “Y'know, your wealth is slowly intimidating me.” You lightly joked as he opened the car door for you, he huffed with a smile. “‘m used to it.” he said as he shrugged before closing your door after you got inside, he walked to the driver's side and got in too. “Go ahead and put in your address on the GPS.” You did as you were told while you felt the car get colder and colder by the moment. Your fingers softly pressing the buttons on the screen, and it lit up and showed coloured lines for directions. Dabi put the car on accelerate, and left the parking quickly. The ride was quiet, the sound of the engine revving and the air conditioner working filled the air.

ㅤ“So,, why'd you take on engineering?” You attempted to make small talk, he didn't answer immediately so it felt REALLY awkward. “Dunno, jus' felt right. What about you, why'd you take on your course?” you took a moment to think about your answer before speaking up “Parents, specifically my mom. I don't actually want to do my course.” you laughed to try and not dampen the mood. Dabi glanced at you before returning his eyes on the road. “I understand, my old man wanted me to take business management, but I was persistent with what I wanted so, that's that I guess.” You smile realizing that, atleast you and your new roommate had something in common, annoying parental units. The silence was back, but this time it wasn't as uncomfortable as before. It was nice.

ㅤ“YOU'VE REACHED YOUR DESTINATION.” you woke up from your small nap with a yawn and stretched out your arms before rubbing your back from the aching pain. “I didn't realize how far you lived.” you raised a brow and looked to your right, where Dabi was staring at you. “Is it really that far? I mean I guess it is since it takes two trains to get to University.” You said before getting out of the car, seeing your apartment. You opened the gate and got inside the premises with Dabi, and headed upstairs to your floor. You got to your door and took out your keys and unlocked it. The both of you went inside as you turned on the lights, a lightbulb slightly flickering before working properly. “Damn, your place is pretty small.” He teased, a raised brow and a smirk plastered on his face. “I'm pretty broke, I thought you already deciphered that.” You stare at him, deadpanned before you giggled slightly. “Come on, let's get started, I feel like we'll be at this for awhile..”

⟢ TIMESKIP. . . THE NEXT DAY ！

ㅤ“Dollface.” You felt a finger poke your cheek as you slept, but you ignored it. Until it kept poking you repeatedly. You sighed and opened your eyes slightly to see Dabi crouching in front of your bed. “Dabi? What are you doing in my room..” “We have orientation in a few hours, you should get ready.” You got up from your spot so fast “Really?! I thought that was next week!” “It is. Just wanted to say breakfast is ready.” “SERIOUSLY?!” “I'll meet you in the kitchen.” your new roommate yelled out as he exited your newly decorated room from last night.

ㅤYou got out of your room as you rubbed your eyes, smelling the freshly cooked food from the kitchen counter. You could see Dabi already munching on his breakfast, noticing your presence but not paying you any mind. You took a seat beside him and laid your head on the counter, barely fighting off your sleepiness. “Why'd you have to wake me up, it's so early...” “It's 1:00 pm.” You mumbled incoherent words, something along the lines that it's not breakfast anymore while Dabi chuckled deeply. “Come on and eat, the food'll get cold.” You slowly rose your head up from the counter and started getting your desired food along with your rice.

ㅤ“So, you excited for Uni?” Dabi asked, his mouth half full with food. “Not really, it's just another stressful year i have to endure.” You felt his eyes linger on you longer, before he made a humming sound of acknowledgement. “What did'ya wanna take anyway?” “Oh, nothing. I didn't really think I'd get this far in my life, kinda expected I'd die or something.” You huffed out a gentle chuckle as a smirk adorned your lips.

ㅤ“For a gal like you I didn't expect you to be dark like that.” Dabi snickered, before standing up and washing his dishes. “I'm going to the grocery store, want anything? My treat, since I doubt you can afford it.” He teased, you looked at him offended before agreeing with the insult. “Some sweets would be nice, and chips.” “Got it, any kind in particular?” you told him which ones you wanted, before he said bye and left.

𓂃 ࣪˖ 𝓕rom me ！⟢ i love this man

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ©periwinkleserulean - All rights reserved. No work shall be reproduced, modified, translated without permission and proper credit; reblogs and likes are appreciated

[cosmicpearlz]

it’s always been you

summary: being best friends since childhood means you guys have always been in each other’s lives. expect now, it has different meanings.

pairing: joão félix x reader

as soon as you found out joão was going back to chelsea to play football, you immediately went back with him. ever since you guys were kids, you've been attached to the hip. while he pursued a career in football, you pursued a career in photography. traveling the world to take different pictures for different teams or sports outlets. settling back in london, you felt exhausted. it was nice being able to be back in your shared apartment. practically sleeping a whole day away.

"good morning sunshine," joão's soft voice vibrated through the kitchen. mumbling a quiet hi, you walk over to him and slide your arms around his waist. pressing your chest to his back.

"jet lagged?'

"jet lagged."

"you want tea or coffee?"

"tea please," you kissed his shoulder blade and released your hold on him. bending down to pick up floki, who stood right at your feet.

"good morning to you too, handsome boy," you press a kiss to his fur and snuggled him into your arms.

"ouch, all i got was a hi. i'm a bit hurt." you playfully slap his shoulder.

"you get my love all the time! plus, i literally hugged you first before I grabbed floki."

"i'm kidding, here's your tea," he sits the mug on the countertop and sits a warm croissant on a small plate. you sit floki back down on the ground and pulled joão in for another hug.

"i don't think i tell you enough that i love you. i don't know what i would do without you in my life."

"probably forget to eat or something along those lines," joão kisses your cheek. you both sit next to each other on the stools that were under the counter. enjoying the light breakfast together. it was your morning tradition.

"do you want to come to training with me?"

"you're not tired of seeing my face everywhere yet?"

"never."

"then of course i'm coming."

-

"here comes the clingy couple," cole whispers to noni. they snicker to themselves watching you guys. you and joão walk towards the pitch hand and hand.

"well, if it isn't chelsea's personal cheerleader. I haven't seen you in forever and welcome back brother," noni greets the two of you.

"noni and cole! how are you guys?" you momentarily let go of joão's hand to hug the chelsea players. afterwards, you step back to allow joão to greet his teammates.

"doing pretty good. ready for this home game on saturday. how are you?" noni asks with a smile.

"i'm okay, just so jet lagged. i'm excited to be home though." the boys nodded, understanding what you meant.

"i'm gonna be up in the stands, probably snapping some pictures! I'll see you in a bit, yeah?"

"yeah, i'll see you later love." you kissed his cheek and leave a squeeze to his arm. sending a last wave to the boys, you walked off to the stands. joão watches you walk away, not realizing he was being watched by his teammates.

"so, when did you guys make it official?" noni asks once you were out of earshot.

"bro c'mon, i told you she doesn't like me like that."

"but you're obviously in love with her just like she's in love with you!"

"she doesn't love me like that. i wont mess up our friendship just because of my feelings. she's too important to me."

"i think you should just tell her. you're not seeing what we see. the way she looks at you like you've hung the moon up just for her. or the way she's glued to your side and touchy," cole adds to the conversation.

"trust us bro, she's not gonna reject you," noni pats joão's back, trying to encourage the older boy.

"i dunno, maybe i'll do it tonight."

-

he didn't say anything that night or the next night. it was saturday now and joão has yet to tell you how he felt. instead, he stood in the corner of the room watching you interact with mutual friends. a small team party to celebrate the recent chelsea win. getting six goals in one game and the season just started, called for a celebration.

you bounced around the room talking to the girlfriends and wives of different players. joão loved that you were naturally extroverted. it meant that you bring enough energy for the two of you and he can sit back. he continued to watch you even after another guy started talking to you.

"whose y/n talking to?" joão turns to noni with a sour look. noni moves his head in the direction that joão was facing.

"oh, i think that's the brother to one of the girlfriends. think his name is paul."

"why is he so close to her?"

"why do you care?" joão shakes his head as nonchalantly as he could.

"i don't."

"you're jealous, aren't ya?"

"no."

the song changes and the boys hear you gasp loudly. of course, your favorite song ends up playing. joão thinks that he knows the song word for word, with the way you turn it on during your car rides. it brings a small smile to his face. you search the crowd looking for one person. when your eyes finally meet, your smile brights and make your way over to noni and joão.

"can i steal him for a bit?"

"he's all yours," noni nods his head and swiftly walks off to talk to someone else.

due to the song being on the slower side, you slide your arms around joão's neck. his arms finding their place around your waist, fitting perfectly. he pulls you closer to him as you guys began to sway together. not a care in the world about the other party goers.

"thought you'd be dancing with what's his name."

"oh paul? never. you should know that you're my only dance partner."

"am i really?"

"absolutely."

João is silent for the rest of the dance. not that you minded, the silence was natural between you two. you guys understood each other like no other. when the song came to an end, joão secretly wished it was longer.

"can we talk outside?"

"yeah sure," you interlocked hands with him, leading him outside. missing the way joão locked eyes with noni. who sported a deep smirk.

the music becoming background noise as you settled outside. your hand still laced with his, you gaze into his eyes. suddenly, he felt like the little kid he was when he first asked you to play with the action figures with him.

"everything okay?"

"i like you," joão blurted out.

"well i would hope so silly. we're best friends," you laughed, not understanding what he meant.

"no, not like that. like i'm in love with you and i have been for a long time now." it was as if time stood still. your eyes widen and his hand began to slip from yours. he messed everything up.

"i'm sorry if this ruined-"

"oh, thank god because i-"

talking over each other, making you both shut up. after another quick second of silence, you both burst into laughter. you were quick to re-grab his hand, holding it a bit tighter than before.

"as i was saying. thank god because i'm in love with you too. i just figured that you didn't reciprocate those feelings, so i hid them. i would rather have you in my life as my best friend then-"

"not having you at all," joão finishes the sentence for you.

"exactly! although, i thought i was being obvious with how much i clung to you."

"i just figured you were a touchy person!"

"only with you idiot."

joão finally makes his move and kisses you. a frantic and messy embrace that was long overdue. lips pressing against each other leaving you breathless. his hand traveling down your arms and under your shirt. softly caressing the bare skin that touched his fingertips. your hands tangling into his hair, pulling ever so slightly. joão groans into your mouth getting the hint and pulling you closer to his body. you grinned into the kiss, feeling your blood rush through your veins. he pulls away first to continue his attack on your neck. leaving a trail of feathery kisses from your neck to your collarbone.

"we should stop," you fight against the moan that threaten to come out.

"i know but i waited so long for this," joão's whisper falling on the skin of your neck. you pulled away from him before he could find the sweet spot that laid on your neck.

"let's go home, yeah?" with a smile that matched yours, joão nodded his head.

"let's go home."

[thatanimewriter]

LOVE ME RIGHT.

➳ request: Hiiiii! Dunno if you’re taking requests but if you are- then here: maybe could you do JJK characters love language? If you don’t want to do all/some then maybe just Maki. Thanks you for reading! Stay healthy and safe<3

➳ character/s: itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi, kugisaki nobara, inumaki toge, zen'in maki

➳ warnings: mention of food (megumi)

➳ notes: omg the babiesss, i love this ;v;

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮��𝐞𝐬 / 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭  / 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 / 𝐰𝐢𝐩 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

── 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈.

receiving: physical touch, quality time

he will never deny a cuddle and will, in fact, ask for them every night

you just gotta sneak into his dorm, cause he hugs pillows or plushies probably, but prefers if it's you

he's sensitive about death because of everything that's been going on, so he wants to spend a lotta time with you

you both get fulfilling lives that way, and he feels secure knowing he didn't take you for granted

giving: acts of service, words of affirmation

your little butler omg, he would wait on you ANY TIME he can and will resist complaining about it

wants to make sure you KNOW you're treasured and will never let you doubt that

reinforces that message with the things he says about you, he's a compliment machine

would never give you up, let you down, run around and desert you, make you cry, say goodbye, tell a lie, or hurt you-

── 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈.

receiving: gift giving (??), acts of service

he's not a very materialistic person, but any HANDMADE gifts, he's keeping those til the day he DIES

appreciates the time you put in to doing something nice for him or finding something that he would like

similarly appreciates any silent affection like getting him his favourite drink without asking

or making sure he eats if he's busy training and might forget to in lieu of getting stronger

giving: quality time, acts of service

he's not one to shower you in flowery language or anything, but he'll enjoy your company and keep you company

likes to be near you, but you don't necessarily have to talk, he just wants you to know he's there and he'll listen

will also return favours like making your bed all nice in the morning or buying you things you're slowly running out of

he's just observant like that, you'd probably never know you're low on deodorant or something when he buys more before it's empty

── 𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐀.

receiving: gift giving, words of affirmation

treat her like a princess and you're staying forever, no doubt in her mind

she loves a good shop, and bonus if she gets stuff she wants without paying herself-

likes being told how great she is and stuff, especially in moments of insecurity or fear

helps her feel less delulu about herself (or it could be you feeding into her fantasies just to see her smile-)

giving: words of affirmation, physical touch (??)

greatest hypewoman you'll ever have, the absolute number 1 cheerleader for you

makes sure you both feel like total icons as much as possible and will go so hard if you have a bad day

might reward you with a lil kiss, and she might feel the need to pamper you

probably not entirely clingy, but even just touching knees or being shoulder to shoulder is enough for her :))

── 𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄.

receiving: physical touch, quality time

i feel like if you give him words of affirmation, he'd feel kinda shitty about not being able to say those things back

he likes just being able to spend time with you and enjoy your presence and the things you do together

little koala bear at night time, dude loves a cuddle and will hide his face in your neck

i hope you went to the bathroom before cuddles, cause you're not getting up any time soon

giving: physical touch, acts of service

a lot of wordless forms of expressing love, because he wants you to know he loves you so much but without cursing you

head pats and lil kisses galore, you'll never be touch starved with him around

will do stuff for you to show he loves you, especially stuff he hates, cause then you know he's down bad

yes he hates doing laundry, but he will do yours any time if you're too tired to do it

── 𝐙𝐄𝐍'𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈.

receiving: physical touch, words of affirmation

girlie is touch starved, but she doesn't HATE affection, she's just awkward about it

zen'in clan don't do affection, she's not used to it, but she's getting to enjoy the benefits of a hug

likes getting praise for things (also because of zen'in clan emotional constipation-)

an extra confidence boost that she didn't know she needed, but will happily accept, sometimes with a bit of a blush

giving: acts of service, gift giving

will do things for you to let you know she's got your back no matter what

also makes you realise how much she pays attention to you, because she does things you didn't realise you needed to do/wanted to get

gives you little trinkets that made her think of you on any missions she might go on without you

you're always on her mind, even if it doesn't seem like it, and the amount of little things you have from her is proof