#i just had to play tonight bc i saw this house on my way home

[moonwoodhollow]

TS4 WIP: one of my Simblreen cc-free build contenders.

[that-one-ostrich-friend]

The Announcement

sirius black x reader - the announcement

word count: 3.5k

summary: y/n and sirius visit the potter’s and lily has an announcement for everyone

warnings: shameless sirius bc that’s my favorite sirius

a/n: i thought i was going to write more of this but i lost interest lol… figured i would go ahead and post it

     The crisp December air carried a sharp bite as Y/N and Sirius made their way up the winding path to the Potters’ home. Snow blanketed the ground, glistening under the soft glow of the streetlamps. The house ahead was warm and inviting, its windows glowing with golden light and the faint sound of laughter drifting out into the cold night.

     “We’re late,” Y/N pointed out, her tone laced with mock disapproval.

     “Are we?” Sirius quipped, feigning surprise as he tightened his grip on her hand. “I hadn’t noticed.”

     Y/N gave him a light shove, her laughter echoing into the quiet night. “James is going to give us hell for this, isn’t he?”

     “Absolutely. But let him,” Sirius said with a shrug. “He’s just jealous because Lily never looks at him the way you look at me.”

     Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the warmth that bloomed in her chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

     “And yet, here you are,” Sirius quipped, the smirk never leaving his face.

     “Hang on a second,” he murmured, his voice dropping into a softer, more serious tone.

     Y/N turned to face him, her brow furrowing slightly. “What is it?”

     “Nothing,” he said softly, his gray eyes locking onto hers. His free hand slid around her waist, pulling her closer. “I just need a moment with you before we go in there.”

     Y/N raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “A moment for what?”

     “For this,” Sirius murmured.

     He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, lingering kiss. Sirius deepened the kiss, his fingers tightening slightly on her waist as though anchoring her to him.

     When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against hers, their breaths mingling in the cold night air.

     “You look absolutely stunning tonight, doll,” he whispered, his voice low and earnest. His gray eyes searched hers, filled with unbridled adoration. “Almost too good for them, really. Maybe we should skip dinner and stay home.”

     Y/N blinked, her cheeks warming despite the chill. Sirius had a way of saying things that made her feel like the center of the universe, even in the most ordinary moments. “Sirius—” she started, but he cut her off with a playful grin.

     “I’m serious.”

     She groaned, playfully pushing him away. “You ruin everything, you know that?”

     “Never,” he shot back, “Now we’re late enough to make an entrance.”

     Y/N let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head at him. “You’re impossible.”

     “And yet—”

     “Here I am,” she finished for him, smiling despite herself.

     Sirius grinned, clearly pleased with himself, and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before stepping back. “Come on, doll. Let’s go let Prongs and Lily know we’ve graced them with our presence.”

     Y/N rolled her eyes but followed him up the last few steps to the door, her heart still racing from the kiss.

     As Sirius reached for the door, it swung open suddenly, revealing James’s grinning face.

     “Well, well, look who finally decided to show up!” James said, leaning casually against the doorframe.

     Sirius grinned back, unfazed. “We’re still the best part of your evening.”

     “Debatable,” James shot back, though his tone was light. His eyes shifted to Y/N, his grin softening. “Y/N, you’re looking lovely tonight. Too lovely for this git, if you ask me.”

     Y/N laughed, stepping forward to give him a quick hug. “Thanks, James.”

     “Oi,” Sirius protested, though his grin suggested he wasn’t actually offended.

     Lily appeared behind James, her expression softening as she saw Y/N. “It’s about time you two got here. Come in, come in—it’s freezing out there.”

     She stepped aside to let them in, and Y/N couldn’t help but sigh in contentment as the warmth of the house enveloped her. The smell of roasting meat and fresh bread filled the air.

     “Dinner will be ready in about half an hour,” Lily said, closing the door behind them. “James, take their coats.”

     James groaned dramatically. “Why do I always have to play coat rack?”

     “Because you’re closer to the door,” Lily said matter-of-factly, giving him a look that dared him to argue.

     With a resigned sigh, James took their coats, hanging them neatly on the rack by the door.

     Y/N glanced over at Sirius, who gave her a small wink before guiding her toward the living room.

     The Potter’s living room was as warm and inviting as the rest of the house, with mismatched furniture that somehow worked perfectly together.

     Remus and Peter were already seated, deep in conversation. Remus lounged on the sofa, looking as relaxed as ever, while Peter sat in the armchair closest to the fire, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

     “About time you two made it,” Remus said, his tone teasing as he looked up at Sirius and Y/N.

     “Fashionably late,” Sirius corrected, releasing Y/N’s hand only to guide her toward the center of the room. “It’s a fine art.”

     “It’s a fine excuse,” Peter quipped, earning a chuckle from Remus.

     James flopped onto the sofa beside Remus. 

     “Look, the important thing is we’re here now,” Sirius said, unbothered as he dropped into a large armchair with an exaggerated sigh. He stretched his legs out in front of him, looking every bit as comfortable as if he owned the place.

     He glanced up at Y/N, his gray eyes glinting with mischief. He patted his knee with an inviting grin. “Come here, love.”

     Y/N rolled her eyes but stepped closer, letting Sirius tug her onto his lap. The chair was plenty big enough for the two of them, but Sirius’s hold was firm as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.

     “Much better,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

     “You’re shameless,” she said lightly, though the corners of her mouth betrayed a small smile.

     “Absolutely,” Sirius replied, nuzzling the side of her neck.

     Peter snorted from his seat by the fire. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so attached to another person.”

     “Don’t encourage him,” Y/N said, shooting Peter a playful glare.

     But Sirius, undeterred, tightened his hold on her. “Why not? It’s true.”

     “Here we go,” James said. He gestured towards Sirius, “Two minutes in and he’s already making us all look bad.”

     “It’s a gift,” Sirius replied smoothly, resting his chin on Y/N’s shoulder.

     “Or a curse,” Remus muttered, though his tone was light.

     Lily joined them a moment later, pausing in the doorway with a small smile. “Y/N, those earrings are gorgeous,” she said, motioning toward the gold and pearl earrings Y/N was wearing.

     Y/N reached up to touch one of them, a bashful smile spreading across her face. “Thank you, Lily. Sirius got them for me.”

     “Of course he did,” Remus said with a smirk. “Anything to keep her around, eh?”

     Sirius raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Oi, I don’t need bribery. My natural charm does the trick.”

     Remus rolled his eyes. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Pads.”

     James, who had been lounging on the sofa, leaned forward with a grin. “Speaking of keeping her around…” He tilted his head toward Sirius. “When are you going to get her a ring, mate?”

     Y/N felt her cheeks flush instantly. She glanced down at her hands, suddenly very interested in the stitching on Sirius’s jacket.

     Sirius, however, didn’t miss a beat. He chuckled, brushing a kiss against her cheek before addressing James. “What’s the rush, Prongs? She’s not going anywhere.”

     “Careful,” James warned, wagging a finger at him. “Wait too long and she might start looking for better options.”

     “Unlikely,” Sirius said confidently, his gray eyes sparkling with amusement.

     “All right, all right,” Lily interjected, taking pity on Y/N. “Leave them alone, James.”

     James threw up his hands in surrender. “Fine, but you’re all witnesses—I tried.”

     The conversation shifted after that, moving into lighthearted discussions about work and the latest ridiculous thing James had done. Sirius kept his arms around Y/N the entire time, occasionally brushing his lips against her shoulder or murmuring small comments that made her laugh.

━━━━━━━•✧°•°𓅦°•°✧•━━━━━━━

     “All right, dinner’s ready,” Lily reappeared in the doorway. “Come on, everyone, let’s head to the table before James eats everything in sight.”

     “I’m only having what I deserve,” James protested dramatically.

     Everyone stood, stretching and making their way toward the dining room.

     The dining room was just as inviting as the living room. The long wooden table was set with mismatched plates and silverware, and a hearty spread of food covered nearly every inch of its surface. Roast beef, golden potatoes, roasted vegetables, warm bread rolls, and a rich gravy were just a few of the dishes vying for attention.

     Lily beamed as everyone took their seats, clearly pleased with the results of her hard work. “All right, dig in,” she said, taking her place at the head of the table beside James.

     Sirius pulled out a chair for Y/N, letting his hand linger on her lower back as she sat. He took the seat beside her, his knee brushing against hers under the table.

     “You’ve outdone yourself, Lily,” Remus said, eyeing the spread appreciatively. “This looks incredible.”

     “It smells incredible,” Peter added, already reaching for the nearest dish.

     Lily waved off the compliments, though the pink in her cheeks betrayed her pleasure. “It’s nothing fancy. Just a little something to keep you all fed.”

     “More than a little,” Y/N said, smiling at her. “Thank you for having us, Lily.”

     “Of course,” Lily said, her expression softening. “You’re always welcome here.”

    As plates were filled and drinks poured, the conversation flowed easily. The group reminisced about their Hogwarts days, trading stories of pranks, late-night adventures, and the occasional moment of chaos.

     “Do you remember the time we tried to sneak into the kitchen for extra pumpkin pasties?” James asked, pointing his fork at Sirius. “And you tripped over Filch’s cat?”

     “That was not my fault,” Sirius said indignantly. “The damn thing came out of nowhere.”

     “It came out of the shadows like some kind of demon,” Peter added, his eyes wide with mock horror.

     “Exactly,” Sirius said, gesturing at Peter. “Thank you. At least someone remembers it correctly.”

     Y/N laughed, her hand resting on Sirius’s arm as she leaned closer. “So, what did you do?”

     “Ran for our lives,” Remus said dryly.

     “Not before James screamed like a banshee,” Sirius added, earning a glare from his best friend.

     “I did not!” James protested.

     “You absolutely did,” Lily said, her tone matter-of-fact as she sipped her water.

     The table erupted into laughter, and even James couldn’t hold back a smile.

     Sirius turned to Y/N, his gray eyes sparkling with amusement. “See what I had to deal with?”

     “Must’ve been a nightmare,” Y/N said, her tone teasing.

     “Every day,” Sirius replied, though the affection in his voice was unmistakable.

     As the meal went on, Sirius’s hand found its way to Y/N’s again, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. It was a small gesture, but it sent warmth coursing through her.

     The sound of clinking glasses and cheerful chatter filled the room as the plates slowly emptied. Lily beamed every time someone complimented her cooking, while James pretended to take credit for the meal, earning playful swats from his wife.

     “I have to admit,” Remus said, leaning back in his chair, “this might be the best meal I’ve had in months.”

     “Agreed,” Peter said, nodding. “You’ve spoiled us, Lily.”

     “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Lily said with a smile.

     James stood abruptly, raising his glass. “A toast,” he declared, his voice cutting through the din.

     Everyone paused, their attention turning to him.

     “To good friends, good food, and the best damn family anyone could ask for,” James said, his grin wide and sincere.

     “Hear, hear,” Sirius said, raising his glass as the rest of the group followed suit.

     "Now," he said, his voice carrying with a self-importance that immediately set the tone for whatever was coming. "It's time we all acknowledge that life is changing. Things are shifting, and, well... we need to embrace it.

     Sirius, clearly anticipating James's theatrics, smirked but didn't say anything. Y/N, sitting next to him, exchanged an amused glance with Remus, who seemed just as familiar with this routine.

     “Let’s get to the real reason we’re all gathered here tonight." James gave a dramatic pause, looking around the table, catching everyone’s eyes before finally turning to Lily, who was sitting beside him with a knowing smile. "Lily," he said, his voice lowering slightly with a playful solemnity. "The floor is yours."

     Lily, with a soft but radiant smile, placed her hand on her belly. She met James’s gaze with an expression filled with both love and excitement. For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her to speak.

     "I think," Lily began, her voice warm and steady, "that it’s time we share something with all of you."

     Y/N felt a flutter of anticipation in her chest as she looked between James and Lily. Her eyes lingered on Lily’s hand resting on her stomach, a subtle hint that something was coming.

     "We’ve been waiting for the right moment," Lily continued, her smile widening as she finally let the news slip. "And well, the right moment is now."

     She paused, letting the words settle in before adding, "James and I are expecting."

     There was a collective gasp around the table. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and her eyes went wide as she processed the announcement. The room erupted into excited chatter, everyone speaking over each other in joy and disbelief.

     "Bloody hell!" Sirius exclaimed, standing quickly from his chair and striding over to James. He clapped him on the back with a force that nearly sent James stumbling forward. "You're going to be a father!" he laughed, his voice thick with pride and something softer—something more emotional.

     James chuckled, clearly overwhelmed but thrilled. "Can you believe it?" he said, his voice catching slightly. He glanced at Lily, who was looking at him with a smile that said everything.

     Y/N, still in a state of shock and joy, stood up quickly. She moved toward Lily, her heart full as she threw her arms around her. "Lily, that’s amazing!" she exclaimed, her voice cracking slightly with emotion. "I’m so happy for you both!"

     Lily hugged her back just as fiercely, her laughter bubbling up. "Thank you, Y/N," she said softly, pulling away to look her in the eye. "I couldn’t wait to tell you. It feels so right, all of this."

     Tears pricked at the corners of Y/N’s eyes, but she blinked them away, grinning from ear to ear. She glanced over her shoulder to see Sirius, who had returned to his seat, his own eyes slightly misty.

     "I swear, mate," Sirius said, his voice a little hoarse, though his grin was as wide as ever, "I never thought I’d see the day when you’d be the one in this situation. You’re going to be a bloody brilliant dad."

     James laughed, but there was a definite softness in his eyes, "I’m terrified, to be honest," he admitted, his tone vulnerable for a split second. "But I couldn’t be more excited."

     Y/N moved back to her seat, smiling as she looked around at the joy-filled faces of her friends. This moment felt monumental, like a new chapter had begun, one full of hope and love.

     Sirius’s eyes, glistening with emotion, shifted between James and Lily, still processing the magnitude of what they had just shared. His heart was so full, so utterly overwhelmed with happiness for his best friend, that the emotions he’d been trying to keep in check finally slipped past his defenses.

     He cleared his throat, trying to shake off the lump that had formed there, but it didn’t work. The joy in his chest was so heavy, it was impossible to keep it all inside. His eyes started to burn, and he rubbed his face quickly, as though to stave off the tears that were threatening to spill over. But they came anyway—slowly at first, then with more urgency, as he realized the depth of what James and Lily’s baby meant.

     “Sirius?” Y/N’s soft voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he looked up to find her standing beside him, her gaze full of concern.

     He gave her a shaky smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. The tears, now unmistakable, were streaming down his face. He wiped them away quickly, but they kept coming, as if he couldn’t hold them back any longer.

     “I’m sorry, I—” His voice broke, and he stopped, taking in a shaky breath. “I just—this baby is going to be so loved,” he murmured, his words coming out thick with emotion. “So loved. And I know that because of the two of you. And the family we’ve built together.”

     Y/N felt a lump in her throat as she reached out for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She could see it now—the weight of what this meant for him. She had always known how deeply Sirius felt for his friends, how much he cared for them like they were his own flesh and blood. But seeing him so raw, so vulnerable in this moment, was something else entirely.

     He looked at her, his eyes searching for something, some kind of reassurance, but he didn’t find it. Instead, his gaze turned back to James and Lily, his voice unsteady. “This kid… this kid is going to grow up with two amazing parents, and they’re going to have all of us to love them. Every single one of us. You’re not just bringing a child into this world—you’re bringing someone into a family that’s already been built on love. And that baby will feel that. Every second of every day.”

     Sirius swallowed hard, his voice thick with emotion, the words tumbling out as if he couldn’t stop them now. “I know we’ve all been through hell, and I know we’re not perfect, but that little one... they won’t have to fight for this love. It’ll be given to them freely, and endlessly, and God—” He choked on his words, blinking furiously as more tears fell down his cheeks. “They’ll never have to wonder if they’re wanted. Because they will be, more than anything in this world.”

     James and Lily, standing off to the side, exchanged a look. There was a mixture of surprise and something else—something deeper. They could see how much Sirius cared, how much this moment meant to him.

     James, who had been standing back, observing this tender moment, finally spoke, his voice rough but full of sincerity. “Sirius…” He stepped forward, clapping his hand on his shoulder, his own eyes moist with emotion. “Thank you. For everything. You’re going to be part of this little one’s life too. I know that for sure.”

     Sirius sniffed and nodded, his chest tight. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” he murmured, his voice still raw but steadying now. He managed a small, tearful smile at James, the bond between them stronger than ever. “You’re my brother, Prongs. Always.”

     “And you’re mine, Pads,” James replied, his voice full of warmth. “You’ve been there for me more times than I can count. And you’ll be there for this baby too.”

     Sirius wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, forcing out a shaky breath. “Alright, alright, enough of that,” he said, trying to clear the emotion from his voice. “I’m not crying anymore. At least, not in front of you lot.” He managed a weak chuckle, though his heart was still pounding. “We need champagne.”

     The pop of the champagne cork echoed through the room, and Sirius grinned, expertly pouring the bubbly into glasses. He handed Y/N a glass with a playful wink, and she accepted it with a smile.

     “Cheers,” Sirius said, raising his glass with a mischievous glint in his eyes. The others followed suit, clinking their glasses together. Lily, sitting beside James, simply smiled warmly but didn't reach for a glass herself.

     Y/N took a sip of her champagne, the bubbly tickling her tongue, and glanced around at the group. James and Remus were both grinning, and Sirius, his usual confident self, couldn't seem to take his eyes off her. She couldn't help but smile in return.

     Sirius couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he pulled Y/N close, his arms wrapping around her waist. His eyes were alight with excitement, and before she could react, he kissed her gently on the cheek, then on the top of her head. He pulled back slightly, his smile only growing wider.

      “I’m so bloody happy,” Sirius murmured, kissing her cheek again, a little more quickly this time, as though he couldn’t contain his joy. “I can’t believe it—Lily’s pregnant. We’re going to be an aunt and uncle!”

     He laughed softly, kissing her head once more, his lips lingering there for a second before pulling back, his hands resting on her shoulders. “We’re going to be amazing,” he added, his voice full of excitement.

     Y/N could feel the warmth of his kisses against her skin, and the way he couldn't stop smiling made her own heart swell. “I think we will be,” she said with a small laugh, her hands lightly resting on his chest.

     Sirius kissed her cheek again, this time with a playful sense of urgency. “I just can’t stop thinking about it, Y/N. We’re going to spoil that baby rotten.” He kissed her head again, this time a soft peck that was more about the moment than anything else.

     Y/N smiled up at him, her heart fluttering with the affection he showed.

      Sirius laughed, the sound of it rich and carefree. He kissed her on the cheek once more, so many times that Y/N felt almost giddy with the affection. "I can’t wait for all of it, doll. I’m just so bloody happy."

[ln444]

1D songs as f1 drivers prompts

included: lando norris, oscar piastri, charles leclerc, carlos sainz, lewis hamilton, george russell, max verstappen.

cw: slight angst.

note: i spent days making this omg 😭 i'm so glad it's finally out bc i'm a huge fan of one direction's songs (had my directioner era lol) i really hope you guys enjoy it ! also i was thinking about making it a serie, let me know if you're interested by any of the prompts !

click on the title to play the song!

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lando norris ☆ stole my heart (bestfriends in love)

“under the lights tonight, you turned around and you stole my heart with just one look, when i saw your face, i fell in love„

lando really tried. he attempted to bury his feelings as deeply as he could, but you make it so difficult. the way you're the only one who laughs at his silly jokes, the way you try not to miss any of his races (and send him a good luck text when you can't be there), the way you randomly smile down at him – he could talk about everything you do for hours because he loves and knows every single details about you. sometimes he hates how you make him feel because he just wants to say, 'fuck it,' and kiss you for hours and hours. he can't even count the number of times he's thought about kissing you or the countless times the three words almost slipped out of his mouth out of nowhere. but the thought of losing you forever hold him back everytime, he can't even imagine his life without you. he doesn't know how, but lando has fallen for you, really, really hard and it just keeps going, he just can't get enough of you.

oscar piastri ☆ 18 (teenage love)

“i have loved you since we were 18, long before we both thought the same thing, to be loved and to be in love„

oscar initially watched you from a distance, even memorizing your schedule to see you as often as possible. he'd daydream about finding excuses to start conversations with you, sometimes getting so lost in thought during class that he'd lose track of the lesson. then, one day, he finally gathered the courage to talk to you, pretending to need notes from a shared class. since that day, you began exchanging daily messages, making oscar dumbly smiling. you started having study sessions, eating lunch together, sitting together in your shared classes and he'd even wait to walk you home. and just like that, oscar start falling for you. he found himself daydreaming about you more often, imagining how it would feel to hold your hand and how your lips would feel on his. those thoughts would fluster him, but deep down, he hoped they might come true.

charles leclerc ☆ summer love

“you were my summer love, you'll always will be my summer love„

midnight swims, picnics, sneaking out to watch the stars, late-night talks, sharing earphones while lying on the beach, biking, taking pictures of each other with your old camera, whispering sweet words to each other when no one's watching. that's what makes summer your favorite season, because you get to be with charles. but why does being in love with charles have to be so complicated? why do you have to part ways when the summer ends? most importantly, what makes you hold onto this love, so complicated? maybe the fact that charles always promises to be there next summer and keep this promise — or the fact that you're madly in love with this boy—. the craziest part of all of this is how your love for each other never fades, to the point where charles promises to marry you and get a beach house where you can spend all your summers together when you grow up. charles always keeps his promises.

carlos sainz ☆ change your ticket (long distance)

“you should probably stay, probably stay a couple more days, come on let me change your ticket home, don't go, it's not the same when you go„

you never imagined that having an f1 driver as your boyfriend would be so challenging and that you'd have to spend half the year far from him. at first, it wasn't a big problem, and you got used to it quickly. but at times, it really tugged at your heart. carlos always makes sure to call you when he is free and send you texts at random times of the day to ask how's your day going and tell you how much he misses you, but it's not the same. carlos had asked you more than to join the venture, assuring you that his income would be more than enough for both of you. you thought about it—a lot—but the idea of making such significant changes held you back. now, when you think about it, you realize that losing carlos over a simple matter of distance would be a mistake, especially when there's a solution within reach. perhaps traveling the world with your f1 driver boyfriend isn't such a bad idea after all.

lewis hamilton ☆ heart attack (bestfriend's sister)

“got your voice in my head, sayin' «let's just be friends» [...] never thought it'd hurt so bad, getting over you„

lewis doesn't even know how he fell in love with you. perhaps it was the way your smile warms his heart or how you effortlessly make the most boring conversation so captivating. it seems so absurd that, out of all of the people, he fell for his bestfriend's sister. lewis never imagined that it will be this hard to fight his love for you and act like his mind is not filled with thoughts of you 24/7. how could he possibly get over you when just being in the same room as you drives him crazy? he thought about telling your brother, he really did but the thought of losing his long time friend and you along the way held him back. so he decided to bury his feelings deep in his heart and keep his thoughts in the back of his head. yet, with every echo of your laughter from the next room or just the sight of you, his heart would go crazy.

george russell ☆ loved you first

“i've been waiting all this time to finally say it but now i see your heart's been taken, and nothing could be worse, baby i loved you first„

george can't help but think about the stupid mistake he made a few months ago— not confessing his love for you. he had so many chances to do it, to tell you that he fell hard for you and he can't stop thinking about you. but the day he finally decided to do it, he didn't expect to find you arm in arm with another guy, totally breaking his heart. he just couldn't take it anymore, seeing you with him every day and acting like it was fine, as if the looks and smiles you gave him didn't warm his heart and make him want to take your hand and run as far as he could. because george, he's deeply in love, and it's getting deeper every single day. it's so unfair— he was there first, he loved you first. the worst part is that you know how george feels, and you might even feel the same way. george loved you first, and he's going to make sure that you know that.

max verstappen ☆ still the one (ex lovers)

“you're all i think about baby, i was so stupid for letting you go, you still the one„

max tried to date other girls, multiple times. however, it never felt the same. how is he supposed to move on when he's consumed by thoughts of you 24/7? he can't even engage in meaningful conversations with his dates because his mind always drifts back to you. he spends countless nights trying to erase you from his thoughts, to convince himself that it's truly over. yet, deep down, a flicker of hope for your love still lingers. max thought about the endless nights he's spent replaying your conversations and wondering what went wrong. he's haunted by the way your smile lit up his world and the warmth of your hand in his. even though he's tried to move forward, the heartache is still here, reminding him that sometimes, love refuses to fade.

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requests open!

[agaypanic]

I saw that you are writing about Roderick Heffley.

Can I make a request about Rodrick Heffley/reader (punk grunge girl)?

The reader has been friends with Rodrick for a year, she has her own band and she often hangs out with Rodrick.The reader writes songs for the band and when I realized that I fell in love with Rodrick, I wrote an entire album in his honor.(but since the reader replaced male pronouns with female pronouns in the songs, Rodrik did not understand about falling in love.)

You can make an awkward but sweet confession at the end.(like Roderick only got it when his friend told him directly about it, or when the reader was leaving town...)

I apologize if this is too specific and detailed. And I also ask you to forgive me if something is unclear, English is not my native language.

My Muse (Rodrick Heffley X Songwriter!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Inspiration for new songs strike you when you realize you’ve fallen in love with your friend Rodrick Heffley. But when you get the guts to play him a song as a way of confessing and he doesn’t understand, you figure it’s a lost cause.

A/N: reader is more of a pop-punk artist, and she wrote the only exception by paramore bc i said so. Idk much about instruments/terminology and also writing a character singing feels so awkward to me so sorry if it’s bad. Reader’s band is named after the one in metal lords (such a good movie ugh)

***

You and Rodrick had been friends for years, bonding over a shared love of music. As the two of you got older, you ventured into this interest by forming your own bands. Rodrick’s band, Löded Diper, was more rock, while yours, SkullFlower, followed more of a pop-punk genre. But that didn’t stop you and Rodrick from jamming and writing together during your free time.

With all the time you spend with Rodrick, you soon realized that your feelings for him grew beyond platonic, as cliche as it sounded. You obviously didn’t want to say anything and risk ruining what you had with him.

But you couldn’t help but have hope that Rodrick returned your feelings. No matter how many crushes he had, how distracted he became with his band’s latest business venture, or how often he got grounded to the point of not being allowed to leave the house for anything besides school, he always found his way to you. Sure, your heart ached a bit to see him so hung up over a girl who wouldn’t give him the time of day. But it was always made better when he’d sneak through your window just to sit with you when he should’ve been at home.

You didn’t want to bottle up your feelings forever, so you decided to write it all down in the form of lyrics. What started as a verse and half of a chorus soon became a complete song. And then one song turned into a handful. When you showed your bandmates, they immediately wanted to get to work on the instrumentals.

After a few long rehearsals and some convincing from the rest of the band, you decided to let Rodrick hear what you had been working on—half for his opinion and half as a love confession to your best friend.

“So…” As you walked to class with Rodrick, you kept having to tell yourself not to feel so anxious. Just think of it as just another band practice, and not you telling your best friend that you’re in love with him. “SkullFlower’s having a little rehearsal tonight. I think we’ve gotten a new song down pretty good. Did you wanna come?”

“Hell yeah!” Rodrick responded, seeming more pumped up than before you had asked. “What time were you thinking?”

“Probably around five. It’ll be at Steph’s place, since she has the best set up.”

The two of you stopped in front of your class, standing a bit to the side of the door to not block anyone’s path. 

“I’ll be there,” Rodrick said with a grin, patting your shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “See you then.” Then he turned around and left to go to his own class, leaving you to walk in alone. As you sat down in your seat, the only thing on your mind was how you hoped everything would go right tonight.

***

It was a pretty common occurrence for you and Rodrick to be at each other’s band rehearsals. So, none of your friends were surprised to see him pull up in his somewhat busted van while you tuned instruments and set up equipment. He jogged up the driveway with a grin and two slushies, one for him and one for you. Another common thing between you two was showing up with some kind of sweet treat just for the two of you.

“Hey guys!” Rodrick greeted everyone in Steph’s garage before handing you a large slushie cup filled with your favorite flavors. “Hey, rockstar.”

“Hi, Roddy.” You said, blushing at the little nickname before sipping your drink. You averted your gaze to somewhere else in the room, so you missed the slight pink on Rodrick’s cheeks from the nickname only you were allowed to use.

After a few minutes of mingling, you and the band got ready to play while Rodrick settled in a lawn chair. He sat directly in front of you, so you felt you had no choice but to look at him while fiddling with the microphone stand.

“This one took, like, a day to write,” you warned, taking a final sip of your slushie before setting it on the floor next to you. “It’s a little softer than the stuff we usually play, but I think it’s pretty good. But I wrote it, so I’m a bit biased.” 

“Everything you write is good, Y/n.” Rodrick tipped his slushie cup towards you. “Lemme hear it.”

You nodded and turned to Hailey. She started strumming on her guitar as Steph accompanied her on the keyboard. You swayed along to the music with closed eyes, internally counting down to your cue. 

Rodrick had probably heard you sing a million times, you’d probably sung more around him than you did alone. But your nerves made it feel like you were performing in front of a sold-out stadium for the first time, instead of in your friend’s practically empty garage.

“I’d never sing of love if it does not exist.” You plucked up the courage to finally look at Rodrick, who was already watching you with a smile so small you almost couldn’t see it. “But darling, you are the only exception.”

You didn’t know if it was the fear of knowing you were confessing your feelings to Rodrick or the bravery from opening your eyes and looking at him in the first place. But for the rest of the song, you and Rodrick maintained eye contact, making it feel like you were the only ones in the room. You wondered if he knew that the words were written just for him. 

As Hailey played the final chord of the song, letting it ring out, you gripped the microphone a bit nervously. At first, you thought the hard part was finally over. But then you remembered that Rodrick’s reaction was to follow.

“So… what’d you think?” Everyone eagerly awaited Rodrick’s response. Your friends knew about how deep your feelings went for him. And although they’d sometimes make fun of you for it, they were truly rooting for the two of you.

“That was awesome!” Rodrick said, throwing his arms out wide to emphasize his statement. You grinned, bouncing slightly on the balls of your feet in excitement. “Whoever you wrote that for is lucky, dude.”

And in an instant, all that excitement and hope diminished. 

“Oh.” You let out a small sigh before clearing your throat. “Oh, yeah, they are. They are lucky.” You could practically feel the pitiful stares of your bandmates. That, accompanied by Rodrick’s now slightly perplexed expression, made you feel uneasy. “Um, I’ll be right back.”

You were out in a flash, running into the house and to the bathroom to hide. Your band watched you disappear before looking back at Rodrick, whose eyes were stuck on the door you had gone through.

“Wow.” Dylan was the first to speak, looking at Rodrick with a raised brow and crossed arms. “I know you’re kinda dumb, Heffley, but this might be a new low.”

“Excuse me?” Rodrick quickly rose from his seat, looking at Dylan, offended and confused.

“Oh, come on, Rodrick. Don’t play stupid.” Hailey said as she set down her guitar. “Who do you think Y/n wrote that song about?”

Rodrick thought about the question for a moment, wracking his brain for an answer but coming up with nothing. He shrugged, hoping that one of your friends would just tell him outright what was going on.

“I’ll give you a hint,” Dylan said. “She only invited one person to this band practice, and she only wanted to play that specific song.”

The look on Rodrick’s face was starting to make your friends wonder if you were better off without him knowing about your feelings. But suddenly, he gasped in realization, looking at each of your friends for confirmation of what he was thinking. When they all nodded, relieved that he was finally starting to understand, he grabbed your slushie from the floor, muttering something about being back in a minute. 

In the bathroom, you were trying not to have a total freak out. You wondered how you could play this off. Although Rodrick wasn’t the brightest, he could be observant and stubborn when he wanted to be. He’d probably ask what was wrong, and if you could convince him that everything was fine, he would probably start asking who you wrote that love song about.

After splashing some water on your face to calm yourself down, you opened the door, only to see Rodrick standing on the other side.

“Jesus!” You jumped in surprise.

“Sorry.” Rodrick laughed nervously. “You, um, you forgot your slushie.”

“Oh, thanks.”

You fell into an awkward silence, standing in the threshold of your friend’s bathroom and slurping down your drink so you wouldn’t have to speak. Eventually, both of you were out of slushies.

“Was that song about me?” Rodrick blurted out, tilting his head in curiosity. You blinked, not expecting that to be the question he would ask. It seemed like he already knew it was.

“That depends,” you said, toying with your straw as you looked down at the ground to avoid eye contact. “Would you still like it if it was?”

Your attention was pulled from your shoes by a hand lifting your head, forcing you to look up at Rodrick. He leaned in to kiss you, just for a quick second, as if he was scared of you freaking out. But you were left in a daze as he pulled back.

“I’d like it a lot more if it was.”

Overwhelmed by what had just happened, you flung your arms around Rodrick and kissed him again. He stumbled back a step but caught you by the waist, kissing back eagerly. The world around you seemed to disappear.

“Ahem.” Slowly and reluctantly, you and Rodrick pulled away from each other to see Steph looking at you amused, Hailey and Dylan standing behind her. “Mom made us all a snack, unless you guys are too busy sucking face.”

“Oh, shut up, Steph.” You said with an embarrassed laugh. Your friends headed to the kitchen, but you and Rodrick slowly trailed behind to sneak a few more kisses to each other.

***

Rodrick Heffley Taglist: @tweedledipshit

[starlordsandrockets]

One Bad Party

pairing: college!Peter Parker x Reader: 18+

word count: 6k

summary: After being broken up with at a house party, you return back to the compound at 3am to find Peter waiting for you.

a/n: Heyyy sorry I've been playing Baldur's Gate to escape my writers block. But here you go, feedback is appreciated bc I feel like this fic fell flat a bit??? Idk lol

There was only one question that kept crossing Peter’s mind whenever he saw you sneaking out of the compound to see your boyfriend: Were you sleeping with the guy?

Peter had no right to be this jealous. It was not like he had a chance with you. Peter tried, but he could barely hold a conversation with you without withdrawing into himself. He became a stuttering mess and before long he would find himself retiring, far too embarrassed to stay in the same room as you.

Peter looked up from his textbook. He was sitting in his dim room, studying at his desk. Or at least, he was attempting to study. The only thing running through his mind was the outfit you were wearing as you left the compound. 

Your bare leg flashed past your large black coat as you brushed off a comment from Tony. A black satin slip could be made out, hugging your curves as you wrapped the coat’s fabric around you, wishing to hide yourself from Tony’s judging gaze.

The thought of you was pushed out of Peter’s brain as he pushed out his chair, rising to his feet. He needed to clear his head for a bit.

Peter found himself staring into the kitchen’s large fridge, eyes scanning his options without a single processing thought. He wondered if you were coming home tonight. Not that it mattered, it was not like there was anyone special to come home to. Reaching out, Peter grabbed a cold, glass bottle. Studying the label he shrugged before opening the beer. The cold glass pressed against his warm skin as he took a sip.

The alcohol could never affect his senses, unless he were to make sure of it, but he still liked the taste of beer. He winced after his next sip, second guessing himself. Glancing at the time, it was almost three in the morning and Peter found himself praying for your arrival to the compound. Clearly, he needed some air to push his clouded thoughts of you out of his head. Right?

“Friday,” Peter spoke quietly with his drink in hand. 

“Yes Peter?”

“I’m going outside,” He informed the system.

“Of course, Peter. It is currently 40 degrees. I would recommend a jacket,”

“Thanks,” Peter smiled, hand finding a hoodie that he managed to leave in the lounge last night. How Tony had not thrown it on the ground in front of his bedroom door already was a surprise. 

Opening the door, the cold air hit him, making him shiver slightly.

Peter remembered what you had on when you left, and he only hoped you were inside somewhere nice and warm. Placing his bottle down on the tiny porch’s only step, he took an awkward seat on the cold stone. He rubbed his hands together, now wishing he had made a warm cup of coffee instead. Placing the bottle against his lips, he tilted his head back. He studied the stars as he took a few large sips of beer.

“What are you Tony’s guard dog?” Your voice rang through his ears, taking him off guard. You watched him begin to choke slightly, “‘Cause you’re shit at it,”

“N-No,” His single word was separated by a heavy cough, “I couldn’t sleep,” Peter knew half a beer was not affecting him, but somehow he was feeling a little confident, “and I noticed you weren’t back yet so-”

“So you’re up playing parent?” You studied where he was spread on the step, blocking your way to the door. Sure, you could go around him, but you already stumbled your way up the compound’s extremely long driveway.

“No- I just- it’s so cold and I was remembering what you were wearing when you left and I-” Peter rambled below you.

“Please give me a break. I heard enough from Tony before I left and I sure as hell don’t want to hear it again, especially from you,” You shot back. Your words were almost flowing like vomit, slurring and sloshing out of your quivering lips.

“No- No I- Y/N,” Peter shook his head. Moving his hands, he attempted to stand up, however his arm knocked against his bottle. The glass fell against the stone, shattering almost instantly. Staring at it, he almost laughed at how it reflected the conversation that hung in the frigid air.

“You’re in my way and I’m cold, so please,” Your gaze fell to your pointy heels as you wrapped your coat’s fabric around you tightly. Closing your eyes you did not want to see Peter stumbling before you in response to your hurtful tone. However, you also did not want him to see the tears that were forming in your eyes, “goodnight,” You muttered, pushing the heavy door open. 

“Y/N,” Peter called after you. He watched as you attempted to outrun him, however your imbalance twisted your ankles in your heels, “Hey-” He called out, reaching out, he steadied you as you began to crumble.

Inhaling, your stuffy nose played audibly, directing Peter’s gaze, “No,” You spoke defensively, “No- I’m not- it’s not. Peter,”

“What did he do?” Peter studied your face, “Your makeup- Before you left, you did that little thing you started doing,” He motioned to your eyes, “the little flick. And now it’s gone and your mascara is smudged under there-”

“Peter…” You stared back at him, confused as to why Peter would pay so much attention to you, if any at that. He was Spider-Man and you were Tony’s assistant who just got to live here because it was more convenient for the billionaire.

“No, because did he do something?” Peter questioned. His voice cracked slightly, making him clear his throat.

“Why do you care?” You questioned back, not sure where the question came from. Well, you knew because that is exactly what you were thinking. But, you were unsure as to why you were so blunt. Maybe you were still a little buzzed.

Peter’s hold on you loosened as the question passed through your lips. He could not confess to you, not now. He had thought of so many ways to tell you how he felt, and this was not one of them. 

He studied your appearance. Your makeup was a ghost of the painted picture it was hours before, and your posture was folded in on itself, as if you wished the dark compound to swallow you and allow you to hide away, “Because I knew he’d do something,”

“Y-You,” You stuttered, “don’t even know his name,” Peter’s brown gaze was serious, and it was a look you had never seen him wear. You were never around for important missions, just to make small talk to him at the coffee maker or Tony’s stupid little lounge parties.

“Don’t have to,” Peter spoke, “if he treated you any better I feel like you would’ve mentioned him to someone. To Nat when you guys share your coffee in the morning or Mr. Stark would bring him up during his parties to embarrass you… or to annoy me,”

You did not address his last claim. You just wanted to go to your room and cry, “I’m just… I’m a private person,” You shrugged, not meeting Peter’s gaze any longer. You heard him laugh slightly, a short exhale passing through his lips, “what?”

“I just- My body doesn’t let me get drunk so you wouldn’t believe how much I know about everyone from Mr. Stark’s dumb parties,” He watched as you met his eyes once again, “Y-You,” He paused, your gaze stirring up butterflies, “You say a lot when you’re drunk,”

“Like what?” You pried, watching Peter smile slightly.

“That’s how I found out,” Peter spoke, “Mr. Stark-” He paused, remembering the night Tony had tried so hard to get the two of you together after finding out Peter’s crush on you, “he suggested spin the bottle,” He heard you scoff, “Yeah well, that’s when you refused to play because you ‘met a guy’ and it was ‘kind of serious’,”

“So,” You spoke, “We were,” The word slipped as your gaze froze.

“...Were?” Peter questioned.

“Peter,” You shook your head.

“What do you mean?” Peter pushed.

“Peter, I’m tired,”

“Did he break up with you?”

“It’s like 3am and I want to get this fucking dress and heels off,” You spoke over him, watching him freeze in front of you.

He could help you with that, “Sorry,” Peter spoke, “You don’t have to tell me,” Peter wanted to slip that dress off of you.

“It’s not,” You sighed, feeling guilty as if you kicked a puppy, “It’s not like we talk. You know? When’s the last time we had a conversation like this?” You watched as Peter’s posture straightened in front of you, but in reality it felt like he was about to crumble from your piercing words.

“Right…” Peter spoke, knowing when to take a hint. “Sorry,” He stepped aside, allowing you to claw at the straps of your heels. It felt as if he was letting you slip right through his fingers. Sure, he did not want to be a rebound but at this point, he did not want you to think he had no intention of ever speaking to you, “It’s not that I haven’t tried,”

“What?” You questioned, planting a bare foot on the ground. The heel hung loosely in your grasp as you stared back at him.

“I try to talk to you- A lot actually… but,” Peter specified, “I’m just not great at it- I mean, I’m not even good at it,”

You paused, as awkward silence fell after Peter’s words, “Okay,” You smiled slightly, “Well, maybe we can talk in the morning? Over breakfast? If I’m not hungover,”

“Right,” Peter smiled in defeat, “Sure,” He watched as you pressed your lips in an awkward smile, the lipstick that was once there was now faded. You slipped the other shoe off your foot before turning towards the hallway. You made your way a few steps down the hall to the elevator doors, leaving Peter to stare right at you from where you left him, “It’s because I like you,” He spoke, surely low enough.

The elevator dinged but you did not walk inside it, not yet. You were at a standstill, your brain processing Peter’s quiet confession. Staring into the bright elevator, you watched as the doors began to slowly close. How could Peter like you when you found out your boyfriend had been cheating on you? Why would anyone like you?

“You’re-” You mumbled, “You’re fucking with me,” Turning, you dared to meet Peter’s far off gaze, “Stop fucking with me,”

“W-What?” Peter stuttered, watching you walk closer to him.

“You’re Spider-Man,” You informed, watching his head tilt slightly out of confusion.

“...Yeah? Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?” Peter questioned, his eyes trailed all over your body, forgetting that you could see his every move.

“Why would you…” You wrapped your coat around you in response to Peter’s gaze, “I’m just Tony’s assistant,” You stopped in your tracks, not able to get any closer to Peter.

“Why would I?-” His question fell short as he realized you had heard his quiet confession, “Oh,” Peter watched you nod shyly, “Don’t… don’t you want to get out of your clothes?”

“What?” You questioned, feeling your face heat up out of embarrassment.

“No- No! God, I just-” Peter stammered, “You said you wanted to change- I thought you could do that and maybe like, take off your makeup and then we could talk. Or, or we could do that in the morning- if you’re not hungover,” He repeated your earlier claim.

“Yeah… yeah,” You spoke, “I’ll go- I’ll go change,” You nodded, lips pressed together, “but, could you help me? These heels killed my feet,”

“Yeah,” Peter spoke, “Yeah, of course,” He was hesitant, hands reaching out. Peter hand touched you before, when he caught steadied you moments before, but now it felt different. Now you know, “Here,” Peter took in a quick breath before he slipped your large coat off of your skin. You almost looked nude, the dress under your coat was small compared to the coat’s large exterior. He folded the fabric before he tucked it under his arm, “and I can carry those,” He reached out towards your shoes that hung off of your curled finger.

“Thanks,” You smiled to yourself. However, your smile soon faded to a blank expression as you felt Peter’s fingertips on the small of your back. His hand soon flattened and you swore you could feel his sweaty palm through your thin dress.

***

The two of you silently made your way through an awkward elevator ride and stumbled your way to your room. Peter opened the door, watching you slip past him and into the dark room. You let out a loud sigh of relief after Peter shut the door behind him, “What?” He almost laughed.

“Feels good to be home,” You replied, “That party was a fucking nightmare,” You smiled, your lips quivered as you felt tears threaten to spill, “I didn’t want to go. I shouldn’t have,”

“Y/N,” Peter said, approaching you, he gathered a handful of your dress’s fabric, “Remember what I said,” The tone of his voice drew your attention. You never heard that slightly dominant tone pass through his lips before, “We can talk after. Okay?”

“Mhm,” You hummed, lips pressed nervously, “Right,” He began to hike up the fabric, the cool fabric tickling your thighs, “Peter,”

He had started helping you without a second thought. Peter was completely lost in you, functioning on autopilot. Your words brought him back to reality, “Sorry- I,” He turned, facing the wall, “I’m sorry- I forgot I was done helping. I got you here,”

You slipped the dress over your hips and past your chest, “Yeah,” You broke the silence, “but,” That word made Peter turn his head in time to check a glance of your exposed skin. The dress’s fabric covered your face as you slowly slipped it over your head. 

Could you see him staring? Peter took in the sight of your underwear and push-up bra for another second before turning his head back to the wall. His face must have been red. He felt his cheeks begin to grow warm. Peter also felt something else begin to grow and he hoped it was not noticeable.

“Could you help me?” You continued, now slipping a long, black night shirt over your skin. You wished you had anything else to wear to bed, anything sexier than an oversized shirt.

“Help with what?” Peter questioned, back still facing you. He watched as your room lit up a bit brighter from switching on the bathroom light.

“My makeup,” You almost groaned, “I’m too tireddd,” You placed your arms on the counter’s cool surface. Looking at your reflection you were reminded of the night you just had. Your mascara pooled under your lash line but you were still surprised Peter had noticed, “Peter,” You called out, hands covering your face, smudging your makeup even further.

Peter entered your small bathroom, taking in the space he had never seen before, “What’s up?” He watched as you blindly dug through one of your drawers. A pack of makeup wipes appeared in front of him as you leaned further onto the counter, a tired groan vibrating past your lips, “Okaaay,” Peter laughed, “Come’re then,” He took the pack, setting it down before he reached out. Turning you around, you faced him now. Your eyes were still closed from when you were rubbing your tired eyes, “Just one?”

“Mhm,” You nodded, finally opening your eyes. That is when you realized how close Peter was. You studied his hands as he peeled open the makeup wipes. His fingers were long and slender, making something in you stir. You focused on his fingers moving around the cloth in his large hands.

“Hey,” Peter spoke, taking hold of your face with his free hand, “I have to see your face to take the makeup off,” He laughed. The smile quickly faded as he studied your face in his hold, a look of embarrassment flooded his face. Peter realized not only how close he was to you, but was reminded just how pretty you were. Nervousness traveled up his spine, making him shiver slightly, “Right,” He spoke, clearing his throat as you stared back up at him.

His touch was gentle as he replaced his hand with the makeup wipe, making you jump, “cold,” you muttered, nervous at Peter’s closeness.

“Sorry,” Peter replied, rubbing the makeup off of your skin.

“Don’t look too close,” You laughed, “I’m not that pretty up close,” You chose your words wisely, not wanting Peter to think you were baiting for a compliment.

But that was exactly what was running through Peter’s head. Peter was trying to find the right words to say so he did not seem like he was as obsessed with you as he was, “I think you’re pretty,” Was all he managed to admit, watching your gaze snap right to his loving brown gaze, “I mean… I can move-  if you think I’m too close,”

“You think I’m pretty?” You mentally kicked yourself as the cliche question slipped past your lips.

“Yeah,” Peter nodded. Pretty was an understatement, “You’re probably the prettiest girl I know,” He tested the water.

“Nat and Wanda live here,” You spoke, “So I think you’re lying,”

“Nah,” Peter focused on your eyes, “Close your eyes,” He instructed, watching you do as you were told. He felt as if he should use this to his advantage, that way you could not affect him with your gaze, “I thought that since the day you got here. Plus, Nat and Wanda kind of scare me,” He watched you smile slightly.

“I don’t scare you?” You questioned, feeling his breath on your skin, making your lips press closed.

“A little, but in a good way,” He admitted.

“Yeah?” You laughed to yourself, eyes still closed, “And what is that supposed to mean?”

Peter did not answer, he was far too embarrassed and lost in the thought of you. The ‘good way’ was that it turned him on, “There,” He finally spoke as he studied your cleaned face.

“You didn’t answer my question,” You spoke, however your words fell short as Peter dragged the makeup wipe across your mouth.

“Sorry- Missed a spot,” He teased, watching you stick out your tongue at the bitter taste of the wipe.

You made your way to the sink, washing your face with cold water. Peter stood silently behind you, studying you through the mirror. Or you assumed so, not daring to meet his brown gaze.

“Sooooooo… you want to talk about it now?” He finally questioned as you dried your face off on a soft towel.

“About the party?” You questioned, hanging up the towel, “Or… about what you said? Earlier,”

Peter’s head fell, studying his fingers that intertwined, absentmindedly, “W-Whatever… whichever you want to first,”

Walking out of the small bathroom, you placed a finger on its light switch. You stared at Peter, waiting for him to follow you, “Yeah… whichever,” However, Peter did not budge, “That party…” You started, “that paaarty was… the worst night of my life,” You laughed before switching off the light. Walking over to your bed, you fell back onto it. However, you regretted it, feeling the alcohol move around in your stomach as your head spun, “...fuck. I’m so fucking stupid,”

“You’re not,” Peter interrupted.

Raising your head, you stared at him for a moment before your gaze returned to the ceiling, “I knew he was talking to someone else. I mean, I suspected it. Turning the phone away when I was too close. Locking it as soon as I entered the room. The lying… I could tell by the mannerisms, by his facial tics,” You groaned, “But you know… ‘he was different’... I was just into him because he barely gave me the time of day unless we were fucking,”

Those words clicked in Peter’s head. 

You were fucking that guy.

“The one time I mentioned him to Tony and he read him like a book and I just… God, I just didn’t want Tony to be right,” You somewhat laughed, “Because I hate it when he’s right,”

“You deserve so much better than that guy,” Peter spoke.

“What? I should be glad he fucking cheated on me? Glad that I showed up to the party, only to find him grinding on her ass and she was wearing the same fucking thing I was wearing?”

“Y/N,”

“What?” You heard the pity in his voice, “I don’t need you to feel bad for me-”

“I’m not- I just can’t believe anyone would do that to you. It pisses me off because if I ever had a chance with you I would never take advantage of it,” Peter admitted, “You’re way out of my league- and I bet you were for him too- and god if I ever fucked up like him I think I’d be the biggest idiot,” You stared back at him, a small smile sat on your lips, “...What?”

“You… actually do like me?” You questioned.

“Well… yeah,” Peter replied, red-faced, “I’m- I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out yet. I feel like I’m so obvious. Literally everyone here knows it,”

“I had no clue,” You almost laughed.

“Really?”

You both felt the mood shift, as Peter sat at the end of your bed, “Yeah… I don’t know. We hardly talked and when we do you always end up leaving… you know,” You rambled, staring at the ceiling, “I always thought I scared you or something, you know, because I just… don’t know how to talk to people really. Everyone I meet always goes off to tell someone they think I’m stuck up- Or if I don’t talk I’m a bitch,”

“I like hearing you talk,” Peter spoke, absentmindedly. Your eyes fell on him as he looked down at you, “You- You’re… interesting and really cool,”

“Y-Yeah?” You laughed somewhat at his awkwardness, “Well… thanks. You too- I mean, you’re cool…too,”

“I-I’m… not cool, like at all,” Peter looked surprised, “I’m super awkward and I like the dumbest stuff,”

“It's not dumb,” You picked up your head, “You’ll convince me to finish Star Wars one day,” You watched a grin curl his lips, “Really. I like it when you talk about stuff you like. I really like it,” You watched Peter’s hand move towards your face. His fingers brushed back some hair that sat out of place, “...My ex- Well he was always too cool to like anything. You know- one of those guys. He was too cool for everything…”

“How about we don’t talk about him anymore” Peter spoke. He stared at you, wanting to touch you. So he tested the water, running his fingers through your hair.

“Mhm,” You hummed in response, eyes closing with each pet of your head. Your eyes felt heavy as your body reminded you that it was probably around four in the morning.

“Do you want me to leave?” Peter questioned, catching a glimpse of your closing eyes, “so you can sleep,”

“No,” You admitted, “I want you to stay and keep touching my hair,” You heard Peter laugh from above you.

“Fine, but I need you to get on the bed more,” He stood up, waiting for you to position yourself on the bed from where you happened to just flop over.

You slowly got adjusted under the covers as you watched Peter walk towards your bathroom, “Is it okay if I use your bathroom?”

“Mhm,” You hummed again as you waited for him to return. You heard the light switch off as you felt your heart begin to beat faster at the idea of Peter sharing a bed with you, “You don’t mind staying, right? Is it weird?”

“No… I mean- do you think it’s weird?” He questioned, standing at the side of your bed.

“No,”

“Yeah… it’s fine then,” Peter almost held his breath as he entered your covers. He could hear your heart racing next to him, however it was almost overpowered with the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears.

Peter laid on his back as he felt you shifting by his side. He did not dare look your way, eyes fixated on the ceiling of your room as his eyes adjusted to the dark room.

“Goodnight,” You whispered from your spot next to him, feeling Peter’s body jump slightly from your quiet voice breaking the heavy silence, “sorry,”

“N-Night,” Peter replied, hearing you laugh to yourself from behind the sheets.

***

You stirred, as light from the room’s large windows broke your slumber. Your head was pounding as you tried to recall last night. That is when you remembered that the arm that was wrapped around you was Peter’s and not your ex’s.

Peter’s arm laid across your hip as you laid on your side, eyes staring at the wall, attempting to process what exactly unfolded last night.

You were not drunk. You remember every moment, but every moment felt like a dream.

Taking a deep breath, you turned to face Peter’s sleeping face.

Your gaze traveled across his soft skin, eyes bouncing from freckle to freckle. His lashes fluttered, looking as if he was still experiencing a dream.

Reaching out, you rested your hand on his side. You felt Peter pull you closer to him while he slept, “P-Pete,” You whispered, afraid of your morning breath.

“mmm,” Peter groaned as you shook him slightly, by his waist. You watched as he eventually stirred awake, “H..hey,” He spoke quietly, eyes barely open, “How’d you sleep?”

“Not as good as you,” You joked, as his hold on you tightened. Peter still drifted in and out of his sleeping state, “Since… you know. You’re all cuddled up next to me,”

“Hm?” He questioned, eyes finally opening, “Oh- Sorry,”

“It’s- It’s fine,” Your hand took hold of his shirt before he could attempt to move away from you. You stared at his face, his brown gaze refusing to meet your eyes. Every thought that bounced around your head told you to kiss him, hell, every cell in your body was inching towards him; grasp on the fabric pulling your bodies closer.

For a moment your gaze fell to his lips before your lashes fluttered shut, lips pressing against Peter’s for a forceful kiss.

Taken aback, Peter’s eyes widened before they squeezed shut as he attempted to hold back the lust that began to flood through him, “Hey- he- hmm,” Peter hummed against your lips as your kiss smothered any word that attempted to leave. He kissed you back, hands traveling underneath the hem of your shirt’s large fabric.

His sweaty palms traced your curves, studying you even behind closed eyes. Peter felt himself begin to be swept away, worried he would not be able to resurface. Pushing you away by your hip, he attempted to pull out from your hungry kiss, “Hey… Y/N,” Peter watched as your mood shifted almost instantly, looking as if your heart had shattered all over again from the night before, “No- no, it’s just- Y/N I won’t be able to stop,” Peter attempted to explain, “Y/N, I want you… I think about it more than I’d like to admit and it always ends up with me not being able to help myself…”

“I want you… Peter,” You thought for a moment, “I need you,”

“I don’t want to hurt you like he did… or worse,” Peter thought about his strength.

“You won’t. I know you wouldn’t hurt me,” You sat up, watching Peter roll onto his back. Picking up a leg, you swung it over his own, straddling his waist. You were never this forward, but you were always this desperate.

You always had feelings for Peter, you just never thought someone like him would reciprocate.

With that thought, you felt Peter’s hands grasp the plush skin of your thighs, “You- You’re sure?”

“Please,” You breathed out before Peter flipped you on the bed, pushing your face into one of the bed’s plush pillows. You felt as he hiked up the fabric of your shirt, exposing your panties to him. His dominant palm rubbed circles on the side of your ass before you heard him take a deep breath.

This time, it was time for you to take in a breath as Peter began to pull the fabric of your panties down.

You would be lying if you said you were not self continuous about Peter seeing your body for the first time in such an intimate way. The entirety of your last relationship had you on edge, hoping you were good enough.

Suddenly, the bunching fabric halted, making your breath stop as well, “Relax,” You heard Peter speak. Bending over your back, Peter planted a kiss on your ear, making you shutter.

“I- I just… he really messed me up I think,” You laughed to yourself, “so. So I don’t think you could ever hurt me more than him,” As the claim left your lips, Peter flipped you back onto your back, “Pete-” You heard the tearing of fabric as Peter, literally, ripped your panties off your legs.

He shifted down on your bed, ignoring your claims to the torn fabric. Peter’s heart was beating out of his chest as he grew closer to what was hidden behind the silky fabric. Placing his hands on your knees, he spread your locked legs, “Hey,” He watched as you locked eyes with him and that is when he felt a switch flip in him, “I don’t want to hear you talk about him anymore,” Your wide eyes stared back at him, “Okay?”

You nodded.

“I want to hear you say it,”

“Okay…” You mustered the courage.

“Okay? Okay what?” Peter’s fingers trailed along your skin. Closer and closer to your wet folds. His touch circled you almost teasingly.

“I won’t talk about him anymore,” You answered.

“Good,” Peter almost smiled, but there was a newfound cockiness behind his words. His thumb brushed against your clit, “Why shouldn’t you?”

“What?” You almost whimpered, wanting the teasing to end.

“Why shouldn’t you talk about him anymore?” 

“I… I don’t know,” You spoke with frustration. However, Peter’s gaze made you think about giving a better answer, “Because… because I deserve better?”

“Is that a question?”

“No…” You whined as Peter gently thumbed your clit, however it was not enough, “Peter please,”

“Fine,” Peter smiled at your desperation. Lowering himself, he placed your legs over his shoulders. He took in the sight before him, fingers running through your wet folds, “You’re so wet... You like it when I tease you or something?”

“...No- it makes me mad,” You spoke, unfiltered, not wanting to focus on the fact that Peter was seeing your flaws so up close.

“I don’t know, I think you like it,” He spoke, inserting his index finger into you, watching you wither in front of him, “So pretty,” Peter spoke under his breath. He listened as you attempted to hold back a few quiet moans, “You sound so pretty… wanna hear you,” Curling his fingers, he hit you at a different angle, making your eyes roll, head rolling back into your pillow, “Yeah?” He almost laughed, “Right there?”

You nodded, knowing if you parted your lips, you would not be able to shut up. However, Peter had other plans, his fingers moving in and out of you even faster. “FFffuckk,” You moaned, eyes screwed shut, “Pete-” His name was cut short, interrupted by a louder moan as Peter’s lips found your clit. He gave it a wet kiss before his tongue explored you.

Your ex never did this, and if he ever did, the foreplay lasted only long enough to make sure you were wet for him. Mentally, you kicked yourself, finding your brain occupied by your ex even though Peter just told you to not talk about him, “Are you thinking about him?” You heard Peter ask like clockwork.

“W-What?” You stuttered, opening your eyes. Looking down, you meet Peter’s dominant gaze.

“You stopped moaning,” Peter spoke, “Your eyebrows are all… furrowed- and not in a sexy way,” He added an extra finger into you, hearing you moan at the action, “I can stop- If you’re not over him I’d rather stop than you think about him the whole time,”

“No- No… Sorry,” You breathed out, “I- I know you told me not to talk about him but- I… I was just thinking about how he never… he never did this,” You rambled as Peter’s fingers still pumped in and out of you slowly, “fffuck- and- and I just-”

“Guess I’ll have to make up for lost time,” Peter somewhat joked before his lips returned to your clit. He placed a wet kiss between your legs before he continued to pleasure you.

“Please,” You breathed out, almost relieved. You were relieved that you no longer had to beg for anything you deserved, because Peter was ready to give it to you instantly.

A shaking moan passed through your lips as Peter inserted a finger into you. He was slow at first, taking in your small, breathless moans; however he found his hunger for you growing.

He continued to work you with his mouth and finger, before inserting another digit. Pulling away from your heated skin, Peter spoke, “I wanna hear you say my name,” He breathed out.

“W-What?” You stuttered through your waves of pleasure.

“Wanna hear you say my name,” Peter repeated, “And I never want to hear you say his again,”

“Mm,” You groaned at his dominance.

“What was that?” Peter questioned, slowing his fingers that pumped in and out of you. It pained him to do so, he wanted to please you desperately, but he also wanted to prove his point.

“Yes,” You breathed out, “...please,”

“Please?” Peter questioned.

“Pleaseee,” You drew out, mustering the courage to speak his name in such an intimate setting, “Peter,”

“Good,” Peter’s lips curled into a subtle, cocky smile. His fingers found their previous pace before pumping even faster.

“Ff-fuck,” You moaned. You heard Peter hum in response, as if he was questioning you, “Peter,” You repeated his name. With that his smiling lips return to your clit, his tongue only increasing your pleasure, “I- I’m so close,”

“Need you to cum for me,” Peter spoke quickly before returning between your legs. He found a rhythm that made you a stuttering mess, and stuck with it.

“I’m- I’m going to cum,” You moaned, hand falling between your legs. Your fingers tangled in his soft, brown locks. Your hips jutted, meeting his tongue halfway with each thrust. You felt as if you were losing your mind, not sure when the last time you experienced this much pleasure was, “Fuck Peter- I’m-” Your words fell short as you came. Your eyes screwed shut as Peter continued to taste you. Waves of pleasure jutted through you, making your body twitch with each stroke from Peter’s tongue, “f-f fuck- too… too much,” You breathed out, hands trying to push Peter’s face away from you.

“Sorry,” Peter spoke, crawling up your body. He fell to his side, laying next to you on the bed, “How was that?” He watched your chest rise and fall as you attempted to catch your breath.

Small laughter fell from your parted lips as you realized just how long it was taking you to recover from the pleasure, “I… I haven’t felt like that in… well, in a long time,”

“And that’s a good thing? It was good?” Peter questioned, hoping that his attempt would make you forget all about your ex.

“No- Yeah,” You breathed, “I haven’t cum that hard in awhile,” You added, “Just… just give me a minute and we can keep going,”

“Keep going?” Peter questioned.

“Yeah. I mean, you’re probably really hard,” You spoke, “or… I hope you are,”

“Yeah,” Peter laughed, “I am. But we can stop,”

“Why?” Your head turned towards him from where you stared at the ceiling, “Do you not want me anymore?”

“What? No- I mean. I want you,” Peter spoke, “I really want you- but I. I want to take things slow… with you,” He studied your worried expression, “If that’s okay,”

“Oh… yeah,” You nodded, “I just. I thought you’d want me to return the favor,”

“Another time,” Peter spoke, “I’ll be waiting- but no rush,” He watched you laugh to yourself.

Peter was the kindest person you have met in a long time and it made you wonder why you even settled for anyone else.

“Fine,” You agreed, “but I thought you ‘wouldn’t be able to stop yourself’,” You almost teased, watching Peter roll onto his back next to you.

“Yeah, yeah,” He laughed.

“Yeah… so forgive me if I thought something was wrong,” You spoke sarcastically.

“I just- I didn’t want to do whatever he did,” Peter spoke, “Because I like you and I don’t just want to fuck you,” Peter spoke, “I just want you to understand that. And I want you to have time to get over him,”

“Thanks,” You spoke quietly, “...You wanna go make breakfast?”

[strawbubbysugar]

HI I HAVE A COUPLE OF QUESTIONS 🙋

1. What would Monty's reaction be to Stink? Y'know, once the big guy is fixed and not acting like a sewer rat. Will he help take care of him?

2. Are we going to get a oneshot of Morgan and Monty interacting in any way? Maybe Morgan seeing Monty be slowly repaired with every visit and even helping when they can, or after he's fixed and they go home together where they talk things out and have a heart-to-heart conversation? I like to imagine ""The Big Talk"" happens on the way back home in Morgan's dinked up truck after a few minutes or even hours of painfully awkward silence and a bit of strained small talk, but seeing Monty's reaction to Morgan's home and us even getting to know what it looks like would be nice, too! I think seeing the home or living evironment of a character helps me understand them better, plus it's just interesting.

3. A bit of a continuation of my previous question- what does Monty think about Y/ngineer not being his soulmate? Will he ever find out what Morgan did to Y/ngineer? If so, how will he react to it? I can't remember if he even knows they're soulmates with Sun/Moon/Eclipse, so how will he feel if he saw them being affectionate, whether he knows or not? Is he over Y/ngineer and ready to move on with Morgan? On the other hand, what does Morgan think of Monty being their soulmate, Monty in general, and about having an animatronic for a soulmate? I can't remember if this was ever discussed, I apologize if so.

4. Will we get an update on how both Roxy and Chica are doing on the farm that's set a couple of months or so in the future, after everyone is repaired and the dust has settled? Will we get a little fluffy look into their daily life, relationship and how they both react to farm work? Or rather some hurt/comfort when the sky is depressingly dark, the house is dead quiet and the memories and phantom pains won't stop? I miss my girls. 😢

5. Could you share some thoughts you have for a potential oneshot with Cassie and Roxy? Maybe a bit of hurt/comfort with Cassie visiting and comforting Roxy after, y'know, everything, or seeing her when she'll all fixed up? Will Cassie get to meet Chica? (I'm assuming Cassie has a mother that's still around so would that make Chica her 3rd mother? 🤔)

6. How is Maddie? I think we had brief mentions of her near the end but I hope she's doing well and spending enough time with her dads! Juggling repairing 5 animatronics, taking care of a baby, and planning for the future must be overwhelming for Matt, even with Y/ngineer, Eclipse and his parents there to help him. :( Will we see Y/ngineer or/and Eclipse play with little Maddie? That would be so so cute! I suspect the boys didn't see a lot of infants in the daycare. 🥺 Speaking of... how did Maddie react to the long trip to Twin Falls? She's is an angel but I assume she didn't take the move too well.

SORRY FOR ALL THE QUESTIONS YOU DON'T HAVE TO ANSWER ANY OF THEM IF YOU DON'T WANT TO OR IF YOU'VE ALREADY ANSWERED THEM BEFORE. Love you (platonically) have a good day okaybye. 🙇

AAH I LOVE ANSWERING QUESTIONS TY THIS IS LIKE A PRESENT TO ME!!!!

I honestly think he'd be scared of him at first. like not over the top screeching but he'd refuse to hold him, and he'd freeze when hes put on him. eventually hed have a begrudging respect for stink bc stink likes to bite

Oooh that really puts me in the mood to write about them! Maybe Ill do a oneshot tonight for morgan & monty :)

He isnt stoked about the fact that they arent soulmates, he was starting to feel pretty sure that they were. but he isnt distraught over it - its more of a workplace crush than a real true "i need you" crush. He'd be pissed that morgan did what they did to them, but at the same time, hes done some pretty bad shit to people he cares about too - its another thing they can relate about. he sees morgan trying to be a better person and respects that. If monty were a human man he would 100% be morgan's type down to a t. however, they arent the monster fucker robot lover the y/ngineer is, so it takes more time for them to get used to the idea of a giant crocodile machine being their soulmate. it gets easier they longer theyre together, and the more they get to know each other!

I might write a oneshot for it possibly, along with cassie coming for a visit!! :) it'd be touched upon in the sequel if I ever write it!

tbh I have less ideas for these guys than I do other characters (mostly bc roxy is a mother NO DRAMA and no drama means less story hddsf) but I could see myself writing a oneshot where cassie comes and sleeps over with her dad's permission!

Maddie is doing wonderfully! She's a little angel and her grandparents are watching her while Matt and the gang make the move to the new home! Matt will drive back and pick her up once theyre settled in, so it isnt too much for her. Once shes there and all settled in, Eclipse ends up watching her most of the time while matt and y/ngineer run the shop. After someone sees him doing so well with their kids at the playground while babysitting maddie, they ask him if he runs a daycare, and he decides that YES, he does! Which is how Clear Skies Daycare starts! :)

[perculiar]

So much has happened in the past 24 hours that I can’t process it.

I might ring some helplines if I’m home alone tonight.

Had consensual sex with an old friend I’ve always felt very safe with but conditioning means I did shit that I know I didn’t want to in the moment (blow him lol) but didn’t know how to opt out without feeling like I was body shaming. I still need to work on saying I’m not up for it. I did say what I definitely didn’t want though and put an end to it when I knew for sure I wanted to stop and said I was panicking and need to stop (which he respected ofc) so that’s a personal win for me. Also need to let him know that he probably needs to see a doctor about his foreskin being so tight which idk how to navigate.

I find boundaries so much easier in kink situations with safe words etc. Vanilla sex is the issue bc I can’t get out of my own head.

- Had a conversation with my mum (and nana) about my concern for them re my brother and abusive tendencies & how my mum is more likely to allow that shit with her trauma history. Good talk. Will leave it to trickle down for her (hopefully)

- saw my niblings for Williams 12th birthday: gave him a big long hug & watched his wheelie vids on his new mountain bike; introduced headphones as a way to drown out family nonsense with Lilly; played PS4 and had a good chat with Jacob

- Got snuck out of my sisters house bc Micky showed up unannounced and my mum came to tell me. He knew I was there and that I left without saying hi. But I cannot face the man who domestically abused my mum, neglected me, and committed covert incest against me (likely bc of opportunity). Which doesn’t account for the fear and general violence of growing up with him as my “dad”. I think when my mum came in to tell me all I could do was hold my head in my hands and try not have a panic attack lol. My oldest nephew asked why I didn’t want to see him and I said I’ll tell him another time when it’s just us (bc my 9 yo niece was there listening).

- The dog really helps keep me grounded and calm. I need a dog. Love that dog.

On train back to Manchester now. Deeply thankful I don’t exist in that environment in the day to day.

Need to get home and have a joint. Thankfully anxiety meds are kicking in now.

[acedomkarl]

knucklehead asked: dt3am getting tense bc they’d originally planned to meet w k4rl in paris but now he can’t make it. it’s been too long since he’s been w them, and they’re already running out of the brain power it takes to keep their dynamics running in a functional way. kinda like your last lifestyle bdsm fic, grg is struggling to maintain his dynamic w dn because it’s more difficult to get direction from k4rl, he’s not been able to bottom for a while since k4rl hasn’t been there. drm hasn’t been getting his spanks and doing his chores isn’t as effective since k4rl isn’t there to implement it and grg doesn’t really get it so he doesn’t care enough to follow up on if he’s done it. s4p is struggling w/o his emotional support, it’s not the same going to d/nf for his cuddles etc, grg plays around too much with pretending he hates it so he gets too far in his own head and decides to leave him alone as soon as grg starts trying to push him off, drm is always tense with wanting to keep working and missing k4rl so even when they cuddle he feels like drm would rather be doing smth else. and the sex is just as off balance. k4rl announcing he isn’t going to be in paris is like a tipping point. grg feels like he’s losing his grip as a dom and can’t bring himself to do punishments and stay in charge so he becomes more and more agitated. he keeps doing things hoping that dn will report back to k4rl so that he can be punished, even though it’d have to be over the phone, at least it’s something, so he teases the other two more, starting snippy little arguments in public w s4p knowing the other can’t do anything about it, and gets touchier with drm whenever he’s busy and can’t follow up on what he’s starting. drm gets snappy because his brain feels like it’s all over the place and the other two struggling with their own problems keeps adding to the constant static in his head. everything’s confusing, he’s on the move all day with the convention and doesn’t get a minute to calm down, and when he does his boyfriends are making it difficult to relax and now he’s lashing out. s4p is withdrawing gradually, he’s not getting comfort as often, especially not the way k4rl does it so he eventually stops chasing it and sticks to keeping himself busy with meeting fans and then once everythings done he goes to his room and doesnt leave until he has to. i had an idea for how k4rl would fix the issue with a late surprise visit to paris without telling his boyfriends he’s going, but i ran out of brain power for it and forgot what i’d originally thought but ive also already typed all that so have my usual not even half baked brainrot IDK WHAT THIS IS IGNORE IT IF YOU WANT ITS LITERALLY NOTHING LMAOO -🐙

no no no no no this is so good FUCK i have to go to work but if this was a fic id make them go to nc before back to florida and stay in k4rls house for a week or two while he works just being in his space waiting for him to come home and handle all of them and k4rl isnt really as strung out as he usually is because he got a kind of vacation from not going to paris so he's like. in a good headspace and is caught up on his obligations so first of all he gets dr34mn4p cuddled up in his bed and then takes g30rg3 into the living room and fucks his mouth with his fingers while he sits in his lap. g30rg3 just shuts his eyes and grips k4rls wrist holding the fingers in his mouth and tasting the silver of the rings and k4rl's skin and he just sits like that moving his tongue and nibbling for a while as k4rl mumbles in his ear that he did so well while they were apart and he's gonna fuck him really nice and hard tonight after he talks to s4pn4p and gives dr34m some spanks and g30rg3 is just bobbing his head totally gone from the second he saw k4rl. its like he saw his dom and his brain went 'safe' and turned off, so he gets care first. sorry if this is scattered i literally need to be out the door BUT I LOVE THIS SO FEEL FREE TO KEEP GOING AND ILL EITHER ANSWER LATER OR JUST SPAM WITH TY ANON

[uncouth-the-fifth]

imagine damian and the reader at the wayne gala. he gets jealous when he sees her flirting with someone else. he ends up pulling her into a bathroom and fucking her in front of a mirror while saying that other person can’t treat her like he does

and that’s how the reader finds out damian has feelings for her. all this time he acted like he hates her because he’s in denial

Title: More Than They Ever Said

Paring: Robin!Damian (18+) / Canary!Reader

Tags/Warnings: semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, bathroom sex, slight underage drinking (reader is like 20 lol), mentions of golf.

Word Count: 7150

Notes: sooooo.... this def evolved beyond a drabble lol. the way gala sex kills me every time 😭 I was a little mushy w Dami here bc I miss his sweet side. This also sounded a lot like goldenspecs12's request from Wattpad, so I hope you don't mind that I meshed the two together 😚 I leaned toward Damian liking the reader more than being in denial, but that’s the only thing I sacrificed between the two requests. This one is my fluffiest and most romantic yet 💖

"can I request Damian w a Queen reader, like she's Oliver and Dinah's child? say the reader is a hero but not very active, like she comes in when her parents can't. so when she and Damian meet, they hit it off. The main request is that they sneak away at a gala held by Oliver and the reader and Damian have sex."

Ask to be added to my taglist for future posts!

The party was more fun than you thought it would be.

Benefits were usually chalk-full of old, wealthy people that thought they made good conversationalists. The board members of Queen Industries were tired of Oliver trying to escape their claws, so you’d been recruited in his place. While your dad got to play minigolf in the penthouse’s massive party floor, you were confined to the lounge, playing up what an intelligent, capable business partner you’d be when you were CEO. Fellow businessmen gruffed about their plans with you while their wives cooed and drank, pinching your cheeks.

You thought that you’d hate it, but the attention and the praise was nice. It made you feel like you were helping your dad and your family’s company, which was constantly criticized and judged for it’s choice in CEO. Everyone called your father a lazy silver-spooned idiot, but he was one of the only men in Star City who actually cared. By the time you had Q.I’s biggest donors laughing out of their seats, Dinah’s hands slipped over your shoulders and you were kissed on the side of the face. Thank you, she mouthed, and your position as family support-beam was covered.

Since most of the benefit-goers were at least forty years your senior, you gravitated to your dad. From the penthouse’s upper balcony, you could see his friends circling around the tiny green mats they were using as a makeshift golf course. Usually, Ollie made sure his public persona’s aim was as garbage as his taste in drink was. But tonight, he played as Green Arrow, who never missed. Not once. Especially when it came to Bruce Wayne, who’s golf game was abysmal at best.

But like Oliver, Bruce was a new man tonight. It looked like he was ready to break out the batarangs any minute now. The two men were barely civil about the viciousness of their competition, and if the view of the game from the balcony was interesting, then from below it must’ve been the greatest show of fragile masculinity ever displayed. You had to make fun of them.

The only opening in the circle of men, who all had their hands on their chins as Bruce lined up his next shot, was by the floor-to-ceiling windows to one side of the game. Just one man stood there, hands in his pockets. You slid next to him, unbothered, and squinted at the game.

Everyone in the crowd was dead silent. Bruce was lining up his golf ball so it would roll into a mug a couple of feet away, so you helpfully provided, “A little to the left, Mr. Wayne.”

Your words overlapped with someone else’s. Where you had said Mr. Wayne, they had said Father. Then the man next to you was his son, but...

You would have never guessed it would be him.

Reasonably, you knew that Robin was Damian Wayne. Oliver could be a little loose-lipped at times, and by his judgment you’d been a teenager just a year ago - what could a twenty year old do to Batman’s secret identity? Not much.

Until you saw Robin without his mask.

Damian was achingly beautiful. He was your age, but he stood and talked like he was much older. There was an angle to his shoulder that made him seem astute and sexy. His eyes fixed on you when you spoke at the same time, and they were a surprising mossy color that jumped out against his tan skin, like plants flourishing out of rich soil. There was just enough blue in them to make him seem haunting. Any moment, you felt like he was going to corner you and whisper your future throatily in your ear.

Looking into them, those piercing eyes, for longer than a second made you want to blurt, “You’re much prettier without your mask.”

But that would expose his secret to every golf-loving idiot in earshot, so Oliver had been wrong. A twenty-year-old like you could do fatal damage to Batman’s secret identity, but for Damian, the short-tempered, snappish leader of the Teen Titans, you would risk anything.

Damian stared, and you stared. He squinted, wet his lips, then turned back to the game. This was your only acknowledgment that he recognised you. His voice was deeper, smoother, than you remember it. “Queen.”

You shifted in your shoes, almost laughing in shock. “...Wayne.”

The game grew boring and Damian didn’t say anything else, so you said nothing too, sneaking glances at him. The last time you’d spoken to Robin had been in costume, when he’d thanked you for assisting with a mission. He’d really been thanking you for standing up for him. You didn’t team up often with the Titans, but when you did, you found that they were unusually snappy and mean with their leader. Not necessary on purpose, but you could tell that Damian couldn’t take as many bites as he pretended to. Standing up for him had been a simple thing. The good thing to do. Now, with that look in his eyes, it almost felt like he still thought about it.

He must have, because the kiss you shared at the end of that mission had glowed with heat. To be fair, you both may have believed you were going to die (before the team pulled through and saved you), so it could’ve been a heat-of-the-moment thing. But this was Robin - if he didn't want to kiss you, he wouldn't. And yet he did.

You’d kissed. And the energy of that kiss lingered between you now, drawing you closer together, putting tiny smiles on your faces. He was cute. Cuter without that mask on.

You stood in the stupid golf silence, feeling foolish. Flirting with boys was much easier in fishnets. It didn’t help how fine Damian’s profile was. He had soft, feathery lashes that occasionally touched down on beauty marked cheeks. His lips were even fuller from the side, forever drawn in a curious line. And those eyes, when they caught yours and danced away again, were much too nice to hide behind a mask. You couldn’t get that thought out of your mind.

When Bruce finally made his move, you leaned in to whisper something to each other at the same time, accidentally knocking shoulders.

“I - apologies,” Damian flushed.

“Oh, um, my bad,” you rubbed awkwardly at the spot where you’d collided. “...You were going to say something?”

Damian’s eyes flicked to your fathers, then to you, unimpressed. He lowered his voice so only you could hear. “They’re awfully hypocritical, don’t you think? Father snaps at me everytime I use my skills in public, and yet he’s putting with perfect aim like it’s not the very same.”

Chuckling, you rolled your eyes and scooted closer, ducking your voice into the bubble between your bodies. “My dad’s the same way. Don’t aim in the house, he says, unless it’s him trying to beat Bruce Wayne.”

Your company’s shoulders turned sideways, leaning into you. His breath ghosted the hair on your neck, standing it on end, and again that silky voice sent tingles down your spine. Damian must change his voice as Robin, because he never spoke like this then. So huskily, so low.

He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

You watched him. He watched you. You ran your tongue over your teeth, and Damian subtly adjusted his slacks from his pockets.

At the same time, you asked each other, “Would you like to get a drink?”

_

Your hiding place was a loveseat in the lounge, between more businessmen and their ditzy heirs. The bartender was your family’s, so he smiled and turned down your request for a drink, courtesy of your dad’s strictness. Luckily, he didn’t recognise Damian. You watched him order it at the bar, his rings catching the light, the muscle in his arms peeking out from under his blazer.

“I think he suspected I wasn’t of age, so he only gave me one.” He took the place next to you, propping his ankle on one knee and lounging out like a panther. Damian offered the cocktail to you, once he’d decided the coast was clear. It was a cute gesture. “Is that acceptable?”

You fished a five dollar bill out of your purse. “Only if you take this for paying. Don’t think I didn’t see you try and sneakily get that past me.”

Damian scrutinized the bill, then you, somehow managing to be a smartass without opening his mouth. Instead of thinking about how nice it would feel to kiss the slight crease between his brows, you traded hands with him so the bill was in his and the drink was in yours. The gentle brush of you palm to his knuckles put way too many butterflies in your belly.

You talked about everything and anything. About home, family life, your cities. The best of it was when Damian dipped his head so only you could hear him, keeping your secrets close and your bodies closer. This was the only way he talked about Robin, so you circled back to any vigilante subject you could think of just so Damian would keep purring into your ear like that. Better yet, he was smart. Talking to him was engaging, and within minutes he'd entranced you, so you sat there talking for more than an hour. Around you, the party rotated and went on.

At one point, you took a drink of the cocktail and passed it to him to share. Damian placed his lips right where yours had been, licking up the cocktail salt and gulping it down slow, adam’s apple bobbing, like it wasn’t the taste of the vodka he was savoring.

Eventually, your bliss was broken. Damian was called over to his father, again, to discuss business, and he left you with your remaining cocktail and the memory of that mission. You couldn’t find a reason to move from your seat. When you’d realized that you and Robin had been led into a trap on that mission, it’d been too late, and your efforts to escape became more and more futile. All you could do was pray the Titans got to you on time. Robin had offered you his glove as the walls closed in, and you’d watched up-close as he assumed you were both about to die. The fear in his eyes was strange - like it was familiar to him. At the same time, you cupped his neck and he held your upper back, and you’d kissed fervently, sweetly.

Damian had put his forehead to yours, and promised even as the trap shrunk around you, “You were excellent. More excellent than they ever said.”

In the big picture, it was a strange last remark to make, and afterwards you’d been too happy about surviving to think about it. But in the moment, you understood. You were understood. Somehow, Damian had reached into your soul and gouged out the words you’d been dying to hear, from your parents, from anyone, and uttered them to you with burning conviction. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe he meant it. Damian found you excellent. Someone, somewhere, didn’t think you were a failure.

Odd, how you’d never seen the face of the man you thought you’d die with (until now), and yet he saw you so easily. You watched him follow his father into the party crowd now, wondering. The Titans had saved you before you could ask what he’d meant. More importantly, before you could tell him the same. He was excellent.

_

Once you’d finished off your drink, you left it at the bar and grinned evilly at your family bartender. He rolled his eyes and slyly delivered you another, which, on your superhero schedule, would not have you drunk yet. Another heir to some big company was seated at your right, ignored by his father enough to look for some small talk with you.

He was one of the cute, nerdy types that were usually in awe of you. Girls, available girls, were typically rare at these kinds of parties, so he took you not having a boyfriend as permission to flirt with you. Unfortunately for him, your seat gave a perfect angle on Damian across the party floor. He was impressing the wives of Wayne business partners, who flocked around him like they’d flocked around you, pinching his cheeks. You could almost read their lips enough to guess what they were saying. What a handsome young man you are! Oh, Bruce must be so proud.

“...and then my father flipped over his kayak! Would you believe it? Two thousand dollars, thrown right in our family’s lake.” Your company snickered, howling at his own story.

You circled the rim of your glass, watching how Damian tried to teach some of the women phrases in Arabic. Unknown to them, they were some pretty funny swear words. It threw you into a bout of giggles, and the man next to you kept talking, spurred on by the noise.

The flock of hens around Damian receded, and his shoulders slouched in relief. That was cute, too. It wasn’t often that people understood how draining these parties were, but for people like you and Damian, it was a racetrack of endless, boring circles. Everything was a formality. Few things were genuine. Damian turned, and you caught his eye to let him know you were going to meet him. He nodded toward a side hall, his mouth a curious line again. If you looked at it long enough, it felt like a smile when he mouthed, escape?

Your company was still talking. He stopped when you grabbed his tie and planted a pity-kiss on his cheek, waving to him as you bounced away. “Sorry, kid. Not my type.”

_

You planned to bring Damian to the secluded balcony on the second floor to unwind, but instead, you were taken by the wrist and maneuvered into an empty powder room. It was colder than the steaming party air and smelled like champagne, with couches to sit on and mirrors to powder at. For a bathroom, the lights were warm and low. The noise of the party went quiet the instant the door was shut, like you and Damian had entered your own little world. No more circles. No more back and forth.

“Here,” Damian said, noting the mirrors. He tilted his head as he asked, like he was nervous, “Is this acceptable?”

“It is the ladies powder room, but I’ll give you a pass, since you’re cute.” You joked. Damian didn’t make a move to relax on one of the couches yet, hanging in front of you like there was more he wanted to say. There was more you wanted to say, too, but no good words came to mind.

But the silence wasn’t awkward. Again, Damian stared, and you stared. The glass he brought with him was set down. He put one fist on the counter beside the door, and like honey had been poured on your nerves, you realized how easy it would be for him to push you up against it. Kiss you senseless. Heat drooled off of him this close, and you wondered if he’d still lean in to whisper to you even if you were alone.

The lack of words drew to a point where something had to be said, anything, but his eyes felt so good on your skin and it was interesting to see him nervous. Something strange told you that Damian liked the silence, too.

You wet your lips with your tongue. Damian cleared his throat, and took a sip from his glass. “Was I interrupting something?”

“Between me and that guy?” You smiled gently, like you were reassuring him, and laughed to yourself. “Oh, man, you should’ve seen it, Damian. Poor kid really thought I was flirting with him. He’d totally convinced himself, it was hilarious.”

His profile was tense in the mirror, which you stole glances at to watch how the amber light played on his handsome skin. When Damian swallowed his drink, his throat rolled in the sexiest way, and immediately your mind fed you with visions of suckling, kissing, tonguing his neck.

“Why’d you ask?” Your eyes sparkled. Damian drew a step closer, and you used the opportunity to swipe a drop of alcohol from the corner of his lip with your thumb. “You jealous?”

It was the touch or the suggestion that made Damian pause. He didn’t stutter, but lagged over what to say, eyes vast and wanting as they raked over your face. “I don’t get jealous,” he clarified, “but… I do intend to be the only man to kiss you tonight.”

Damian’s hand took your chin. Your belly exploded with instant arousal, hitting you like a bullet of liquid lust. “You’re the only man who’s kissed me like that,” you whispered, taking his tie in hand. “I hope that’s always true.”

His voice had gone throaty. “May I kiss you again?”

Again, he reminded you.The two of you had kissed before, and it had been spectacular, terrifying, and excellent.

“Please,” you said, and Damian rushed to your aid.

Not a moment more was wasted. Curling his tie into your fist, you drew him in, slow and deep and wonderfully. Damian’s cologne hit you before his lips did, and both made your core throb for friction. Two broad hands slammed your hips into the door. His fingertips smoothed up the fabric of your dress, pressing you back and squeezing you in until you could feel his belt buckle against your belly. Damian was a sweet, magnetic kisser, chasing your lips like he was on a crusade to save them. Each time they met, he swam deeper. The point of his nose bumped against your cheek. You hummed your laugh against his lips, and Damian groaned as he pulled away, readjusting, twisting, testing the limits of the kiss. And you followed him at every step or more, revelling in his taste.

You didn’t want him to think you wanted the kiss to end, so you drew the hands braced under his blazer around his neck. Soon, that didn’t feel close enough, so you cupped each side of his face and pecked Damian until you were breathless. He brought you in until your arms were flat to his chest, the kiss almost vertical in its intensity.

He groaned when you parted, gasping and blinking just inches from your face. Your mouths were still connected by a thick string of drool, which hung until it split and clung to Damian’s chin and fell, marking a wet strip down into his collar. You panted, watching it go.

Damian left your waist to hold your wrists, keeping your hands around his face. He settled warmly into your touch, basking in it, and the pure enjoyment on his face made you smile. You wondered if anyone else had cared for him like this. If Damian had ever felt someone hold his face and treasure it. The thought gave you a strange urge, so you followed it.

You brought Damian’s brow level with your mouth and sweetly kissed his forehead. Then his nose bridge, then his temples. His face was so quickly warm that you giggled. In the most unsubtle way possible, Damian drew back his hips so you couldn’t feel the heat there, and closed his eyes, begging you to continue.

“I want you,” you whispered against his jaw.

Damian shivered. “You have me.”

You shifted one hand to his shoulder, giving yourself more room to nuzzle and kiss his neck. The line of drool was still there, so you cupped his skin and tilted his jaw up, and in one stroke, licked all the way to his earlobe. Damian’s moan poured from his mouth like a growing flood. You even felt his thighs press together between you, and pleasure tingled in your throat when he choked at the glide of your tongue.

He released your wrists, reached beside you, and locked the door with an audible click.

Then, Damian devoured you. Both hands hooked around your back, arching your chest into his, and finally, bringing his bulge between your hips. You clung to him for dear life, helpless as his teeth pressed into your neck like a vampire. Damian fed like one, too, suckling the skin there like he was starved. Your panties were so wet that you were desperate to get out of them, grinding your core against his.

Damian retreated, gasping. He licked the spit off of his lips and glared into your eyes. Bluntly, he said, “I want to eat you out.”

Once more, you kissed him, delirious with excitement. Your lungs burned for air, but your core burned harder for him. “Take off that suit and you can do whatever you want to me.”

His eyes gleamed. “I plan to.”

Quickly, you shoved your hands into his sleeves and pushed them off his shoulders, giving you a crisp glimpse at his carved shoulders. Damian's fingers blurred from button to button, but he saved the last for you on purpose. You worked in tandem and with little thought. If he could, Damian would steal a kiss, and you would bite his lip and chase him into more. When that last button was popped, his white button-down parted for a gorgeous plane of hard-earned muscle. His abs, ribs and pecs were pockmarked with scars, shrapnel marks and in some places, bullet holes. You stopped.

At your staring, Damian pressed his lips together.

“It's.. not appealing, I know,” he monotoned.

“No,” you disagreed, palming his stomach, “it’s impressive. All these do is show how strong you are, how long you've survived. You're so… built...” you didn't hide your thorough examination of him, “...I mean, we have to be to do what we do, but still… It suits you. It's sexy.”

You worried you'd ruined the moment with your babbling, but he glimmered under your praise. Damian brightened in the way only Damian could, smirking devilishly and towering over you like a supervillain.

“Sexy?” He pressed his naked chest into yours, whispering hotly in your ear. You could feel his silk tie pinned between you. “Does that mean I'm your type?”

You rolled your eyes. “Eavesdropper.”

“Temptress,” Damian replied, just as easily.

To claim your title, you found Damian's belt and pulled on it until the clasp gave. It made a satisfying whipping noise as you ripped it off of him, shouldered into his space to grab his waist in one hand, and cupped his throbbing boxers in the other. Damian's sigh came hoarsely and wanton from his mouth.

“Fuck me,” you demanded, grinning with delight.

Instead of wasting time on a response, Damian fell to his knees, a faithful worshipper. He did the gentlemanly thing and helped you kick off your heels. The tile was icy on your bare feet, but it only mattered until Damian ran his hands up your thighs. Sliding his fingers underneath the fabric, he bunched it up your middle, peering up at you smugly through his lashes. You could feel the debauchery of it - Damian, on his knees, tie hanging still from his neck, pinning you to the door. You, your legs spread and wanting.

Damian sucked in a breath. Your panties had an obvious wet patch, put there by him. He thumbed it carefully, watching your brows tense and your eyes close, basking in your initial whine. All of it enchanted him. You were soaking because of him, trembling because of him, marked because of him. There was not one place he would rather be than here.

Damian collected your sweetness and sampled the taste on his thumb, trapping it behind his smug smile. He ran his tongue over his teeth, spreading the flavor around his mouth, savoring it. As Damian rolled your underwear down your legs, his cock twitched in his open fly. You were beautiful. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“Put your leg over my shoulder,” Damian ordered, smirking, “I want to taste you.”

Warmth exploded in your cheeks. “G-go ahead.”

Gradually, you situated your leg across his back, pussy tensing at the touch of the cooler air. This didn't matter for long. Damian's warm lips nuzzled and kissed the thigh closest to him, painting messy reflective circles on your skin with his kiss. Even that made your legs tense wildly, so Damian shoving his wet, blazing tongue into the folds of you cunt pumped moan after moan from your mouth.

“Damian!” You yelped.

Oh, he definitely liked that. Damian pinched your ass and used his mouth so passionately that his head shook back and forth. He darted right for your clit, sucking it until his cheeks were hollow and humming smugly between your legs with every squeal. Parting your folds with one hand, Damian kissed your core just as dirtily as he'd kissed you. The dangerous glint in his eye never faded. He plunges his tongue inside you in earnest, slurping obscenely, purposefully. There's no need for Damian to shoot you cute looks or put on a show - his skill was the performance, because that skill was unbeatable. Your pussy was already tender, fucked nerveless by Damian's filthy mouth. He vibrated your cunt with a deep groan before he drew away, face dripping with slick like a pornstar’s.

“You're suitably wet,” he said, matter-of-factly, “would you like me to use my fingers?”

All the strength you had went into a weak, pleading nod.

Damian was polite enough to grant you your bearings first, letting you grip his hair and squeeze the counter before he resumes. You give him the sweetest, most precious whine when Damian licks you open again. He wisely starts with one finger and builds from there, earning you with pumps and curls of his digits. Damian's talents quickly become a currency, one that you exchange with mewls and pants of praise.

“So good,” you whine, “oh, fuck - fuck, just like that…”

Damian smirks between your legs, jamming his fingers faster into your sore pussy. Lust sizzles low in your gut, ramped up again and again by his thrusting. It’s so powerful that you roll and buck off the door, your hips in his face. You want him - want him more than you want anything.

“You're ravaging,” Damian hums between licks. His eyes are closed, but that only gives the way he touches you more meaning.

It’s so surprising from his mouth that your hold on his hair slips, setting Damian free. He pants, catching his breath, and it’s easily the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. The effort has slouched him from his knees to his calves, further spreading his legs and opening up the fly of his pants. A solid bulge has formed and spilled out there, straining to escape his briefs like an arm in a sling that’s too small, way too small, for someone of his size. Three of Damian’s fingers are still twisting inside of you.

Slowly, Damian tipped back his head and hung down, arranging himself beneath your cunt. “So beautiful.” His free hand splayed where your leg met your hip. “May I touch you?”

“I-I get it’s the gentleman thing to do, to - to keep asking, but fuck, Damian,” you cursed, “you can do whatever you want to me.”

Damian’s intense jade eyes were so dilated that you could barely make out the color. He dragged his cheek against your thigh, fingers still circling inside you, and grinned like a shark. It was probably a bad idea to give the heir to the Demon’s Head that much power over you.

His other hand squeezed your skin, slow to passionate, from your belly to your breasts beneath your dress. It’s clear by the way Damian looks at you that he loves what he sees. The texture of his veiny, calloused hands feels good on your waist and ass, dragging you closer to him. He chuckles when your back arches, when your nails press into his hands, his back muscles, throwing himself into his task. Damian’s nose prods your folds as he licks you clean, tongue dipping and sliding against your sore clit. It’s like he’s done this for you before, in this exact way. Though he utilizes his tongue the most, his lips too are brutal, matched perfectly to fit your pussy lips.

But that tongue - how Damian’s jaw isn’t tired, you don’t know. He parts your folds and latches onto your clit, flicking his tongue at superspeed until drool and cum bubbles from your sensitive core. Your back winds tighter at every vibrating lick, paralyzing the muscles in your legs with glorious pleasure. It’s so exquisite you start to melt to the floor like warm clay, only to be bolstered back up by Damian, both hands viciously squeezing your ass. He keeps going not for you, but himself, sucking down every last drop of your juices.

Shattered, you twist hopelessly into his mouth, chasing the strained feeling like it’s the last you’ll ever glimpse. “Fuck, fuck - D-Damian, ah…”

“Did it feel good when I made you cum?” He teases, “It certainly tastes good. All those filthy little noises you make for me…” Damian shakes his head at himself, like it’s too fantastic to indulge again. He leaves your clit with a satisfied kiss. “Beautiful.”

Once more, the words are surprising to hear from him. You always considered Damian the prude type, but here he is, on his knees for you, mouth and chin glittering with your juices while he teases you in low, sexy tones. At your surprised look, Damian has the gall to blush.

With his ring finger in his mouth, he ponders, “If a man has never said that to you before...” pop, “consider me surprised.”

“Never while finger-fucking me, at least,” you admited, legs still trembelling. “It was sweet. You… you meant that?”

It was hard to imagine Damian Wayne finding anything beautiful. Even you, who was pretty enamored with him, figured he would judge by quality or skill, not beauty. The words tasted new on his tongue.

Slowly, Damian stood and stretched, his shoulders tight after staying in the strange position for so long. Lifting his arms coincidentally let his waistband sit lower on his hips, flashing his green boxers your way while showing off the huge, carved muscles of his arms. Truly, Damian’s subtlety was unmatched. You didn’t mind his miniature bragging fest - not when he had so much to brag about. Eating you out had put an excited shimmer in his skin, so the gold-toned lights of the room reflected sexily off his sweat, already accenting his kissable tan.

“I did,” he told you, moving on to his sucking middle finger. His other hand played on your thigh, stroking it. “I’ve always been… drawn to you. Every mission we’ve had together. I have a profound feeling that we are very similar.”

You laughed. Not at what he said, but the timing of it. “Would you believe me if I said I felt the same way?”

Damian made a face like his heart was doing jumping jacks. “A few hours ago? No. But now…” he barricaded you against the door, first with his hands and then his hips, closed in so tightly that you had to look past your nose to meet his eyes. “Your crush is adorably obvious. I’m annoyed that I didn’t see it before.”

Your rounded your hands against Damian’s shoulders, then his tie. It twisted nicely around your fingers, silky and cold in comparison to your flushed skin. You were tempted to fix your dress, but nothing, not even the world ending, could make you leave this room.

“My crush is obvious? Damian, all you’ve done for the last two hours is sneak me drinks and imply how much easier it is to be around me.” You grinned, “What’d you say earlier? There you are, Queen. Finally, someone intelligent enough to speak to me.”

Damian shrugged. “It’s true. Your knowledge of bioluminescent ocean life is fascinating.”

“I can’t believe you said that after giving me head for ten minutes.”

“It’s actually been closer to twelve,” Damian smirked.

Playfully, you pinched Damian’s cheek, then pulled him by the tie into a starved, energetic kiss. He must’ve been praying for your permission to continue, because the plan he’d been forming is quickly put into action. You’re hugged, arms scooped under your back as you kiss him. Damian surrenders his mouth to a bit of revenge tonguing while undoing your dress. No amount of kissing will pull him from his task, but your hand is a special case - it smooths down the front of his boxers and Damian melts.

“Y/N,” he groans.

Damian petulantly resists the temptation to close his eyes, but your touch is soft and sweet, demanding him to yield. Your lips suckle on his neck and Damian’s knees buckle. If getting his mouth between your legs didn’t turn him on, then this will finish him for sure.

“I missed you. Kissing you.” You purr into his throat. “One could never be enough for me.”

Is this what it’s like to be wanted? Damian asked himself. The only possible answer thrilled him, and he found himself pouring even more passion into the kiss, into you, wanting to share that rush of affection. You respond to his every touch with vigor. Damian’s heart stalls each time your thumb strokes his face, each time the other strokes him through his slacks.

“Me either,” he rasped, and helped you out of your dress. His tone was shy, but his words held too much depth to be meaningless. I want a wealth of them. I always want to kiss you, was what he wanted to say, but Damian was too embarrassed to raise the words. This moment was too special to ruin with his hopeless romanticism. He kissed you again and again, and to his amazement, you kissed him right back.

“Fuck me,” you begged him between breaths. “Right here. I don’t care if we’re caught.”

I don’t care if we’re seen together. I want to be seen with you, I’m not ashamed of you.

Damian cupped your face and almost knocked you both over with the strength of his kiss. Nose-to-nose, eyes closed, he commanded, “Bend over the fucking counter.”

In a blink, Damian turned and there you were, open and waiting for him. The sink was hip-level, so the bend was nothing but perfect - Damian could fuck you from behind and watch your lust-blown reflection without issue. Your perfect pussy drooled leftover cum down your legs, making your sex shine in the light.

In the mirror, you watched Damian’s eyes darken in delight. His pupils followed the line of your ass to your back, appreciating it like an artist would, like he intended to paint you later and needed to memorize the greatest shapes of your figure. The marble was icy against your hard nipples, which Damian had exposed when he’d impatiently shoved down your bra. Now, he cupped one of your breasts as he bent over you, kissing and suckling his way down your back.

“Perfect,” Damian hissed.

Shyly pressing your butt back against him, you buried your face in your arms and bit your lip, waiting for him to open you up. Damian’s shadow came to hover over you, and in the mirror his eyes were vicious, pools of circling sharks. “Are you ready?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Take your time.”

Though you weren’t being sarcastic, Damian took it that way and pinched one cheek of your ass. “With you? I will.” Then, with the same smoothness, Damian asked, “Condom?”

“Pill,” you replied, and Damian nodded his approval.

His pants rustled as they fell down his legs. Where you couldn’t see, Damian committed the sight to memory - his cock in hand, your pussy spread open, all for him. You squeaked when his hot tip touched your cooling clit, and squeaked again when it glided down your pussy and tested your opening. He knew he’d found the way when you winced.

In an unsurprising moment of compassion (for those who truly knew him), Damian kissed the top of your head and offered you his hand. “Would you like to hold it while I…?”

You took his hand and squeezed it to your chest, squeezing him closer in the process, too. “Thank you. Go slow, for this part…”

Damian complied. His sweat-sticky chest hovered warmly over your back. Even if Damian was big, you were wetter than you’d ever been in your entire life - any pain would quickly slide into pleasure. He braced himself with a deep inhale, and a hot, sharp sensation told you that he’d entered you. Where you choked in a needy gasp, Damian poured out his version of a whimper. You both held it. Then, breath by breath, you were struck with the realization that you’d been dying to feel this for weeks, for months, and only now was that heat being satisfied. Damian’s tongue and fingers had come close, but this is what would cure that aching emptiness - his big, girthy cock.

The deathgrip you had on Damian’s hand loosened. “You look perfect,” he murmured into your hair, instantly making your core flutter. “Oh,” he chuckled filthily, “you like that? Funny, how badly that idiot at the bar wanted to be in my place right now…but it’s me who gets to pound into—”

“Damian,” you warned.

He smiled smugly against your neck. “Nothing.”

Dutifully, Damian withdrew his hips, taking all of the heat with him. When he rolled back in, a hot, tingling sensation roared over all of your senses, and you let the moan at the top of that tsunami loose. It was clear that he couldn’t fuck you like he wanted to with one hand fished down at your side, so he glued both to the base of your back and started to thrust in earnest.

“So full...” You mewled, and Damian became a human pile-driver.

Your head seemed to roll off your shoulders with every crazed, rhythmic slam, so you grabbed the faucet and held on for dear life. Every slap was so loud, so powerful, that you prayed this one random bathroom in the penthouse was soundproofed. Anyone walking past would know you were getting railed out of your mind. You tried to compensate by moaning and squeaking quietly, but with force came volume. It didn’t matter how silent you were, Damian’s hips, your ass, the squelch of him inside you - each noise filled the bathroom, echoing off the tile.

The only way you could think to describe him was filling. First, there was the hot, cinching tension of his hands fused to your waist. Then there was his cock, which begged to be squeezed more and more with every pass. You responded to each throb with a mighty clench, which bent Damian over you like an animal, gasping for breath. His balls were painted with your slick. The closer you came to orgasm together, the closer Damian came to you. His hands migrated to higher on your sides, then up by your shoulders, then around you, where Damian kissed your back and rubbed your belly while he made love to you. He talked more than he moaned. Your ear was filled with sweet nothings, with vicious promises of what he would do with a whole night alone with you.

Damian’s reflection was wild with lust. He met your eyes as he fucked you, whispering how beautiful you are, how good you take his dick. His deep green eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out the brown in them anymore. The long muscles on his arms drew taut with each thrust, making his biceps bulge and pin your hips to the sink. Soon enough, a bruise would form from the pressure. One of many treasures from tonight - you would be thinking about Damian in his crisp suit for months to come, and the mess he’d become with you now even longer. Your pleasure built and built and built, like a nail struck further into the ground with a hammer. A very, very big hammer.

“M’ cumming,” Damian husked, slowing his plowing to a sloppy glide. Even his endurance was spent, and you were glad he’d spent it all on you. “Where d’ you…?”

You braced your hands on the counter, then on one of Damian’s. Together, you smoothed his digits down your stomach and between your soft, abused folds. “Inside me, please, please please—” you begged him, “fuck, a-as deep as you can go.”

As a test of your flexibility, Damian turned in and kissed you. Just as he parted your lips with his tongue, he parted your folds with his fingertips, overriding your clit as his cock throbbed inside you to the hilt. He took the invitation as a command. Damian pressed in until you could feel his abs mold to your ass, then stuttered his hips in quick, agonized dips to get himself there. With his fingers and his cock putting stars in your eyes, you finished first.

The white marble counter fizzed in your vision, until all you could see was that powerful, endless white, humming in your mind’s eye. Still, Damian wasn’t finished yet. You bumped your temple against his chin and hummed, “Cum for me, baby… fuck, a-ah!”

Your pussy’s throb raced and raced until it spilled over, pulling Damian right under the current. One clench and he was done for, so the velvety, periodic squeeze of your cunt emptied his store. You hung there, spasming in unison, until that overwhelming heat spurted in a ring around Damian’s cock and flooded out of you. Only then did his fingers stop on your clit, and you settled warmly in each other's arms and tried to remember your names and who you were.

Damian pulled out, then snuggled back in. He would’ve been nervous any other time, but he’d just put his dick inside you, so a little instinctive cuddling could be forgiven. On shaky legs, you turned around and sunk into him. You could tell by how he was eyeing the sink that he was desperate to get clean again, so with one kiss (on the cheek), you set Damian loose.

In companionable silence, Damian cleaned up and you collected the clothes abandoned on the floor. Staring at the corner where you’d just had the best sex of your life put an embarassingly pleasant warmth in your chest. Interesting, how one terrifying moment could become something as special as this. Fascinating, how you’d felt like you’d known him all your life.

“You know… I think you’re excellent, too.” You told him, finishing off the knot for his tie.

Damian dipped his head to hide his smile, but something so bright was impossible to hide.

[sheislethal]

Hey, I just saw your post about sending some suggestions so here I'm.

Could you please write about Sevika having an s/o that has been acting like a brat just bc they aren't receiving "enough attention" but one day they pass the limit and have to be punished. (Can be nsfw or sfw depending on your mood, either is good)

Thanks, hope you have a nice day ✨

SEVIKA x Bratty s/o

WARNINGS: {MDNI} : Usage of ~feminine~ body parts (but relatively gn! pronouns), NSFW, oral sex, degradation, orgasm denial, mature themes, etc.

Notes: This is my first little drabble written by suggestion, so I hope it makes a good first impression. <3

“Testing my Patience”

Days spent in Zaun were never particularly quiet. I typically enjoyed the chaos this place ensured because, at the end of the day, I knew I would get to have all the peace I needed at my apartment with my girlfriend.

Except that hasn’t been the case for the past two weeks. Sevika’s schedule has been packed as hell. Yes, she has always been a relatively busy woman, but lately, Silco has been keeping her on her feet way longer than usual. She’ll work all day to the point where once she gets home, she’ll pass out on the couch.

She’s barely given me more than a minute of her attention a day, and that just won’t fly with me. Now, I’m fine with her being busy, but going two weeks without her attention has driven me to the brink of insanity.

I’ve been doing a whole lot of stupid shit just to get a glance from her. Yesterday, I had walked around the house in nothing but a bra and a pair of panties, to which Sevika didn’t even notice. She had gotten home, huffed out a simple hello, and fell asleep in our shared bedroom.

To say I was pissed was an understatement. I’ve even attempted to pick fights with her before she left for work, but she wouldn’t give in to my desperate attempts. I couldn’t understand how she did it, to be honest.

I furrowed my brows together in frustration as I sat on the couch. The slightly broken clock on the wall read 7:56, so I knew Sevika would be here any second.

I was ready to physically fight her at this point. My fingernails dug into the fabric of my pants once I heard the front door open. Sevika’s heavy footsteps echoed throughout the apartment as she walked into the living room.

My eyes narrowed once her tall frame entered my view. I opened my mouth to start shouting at her, but I closed it once I took in the sight in front of me. She seemed a bit more chipper today, a big change from her usual irritation and tiredness.

“I’m headed to the Last Drop. I figured you’d wanna tag along.” She told me. I eyed her up and down suspiciously before nodding. “You don’t have work tomorrow?”

“Nah. Silco’s getting Jinx to handle some business, so he didn’t need me,” I smirked at the underlining anger that laced her words. If there was one thing everyone knew about Sev, it was that she did not like Jinx, and she certainly didn’t like her doing jobs Sevika knew she could handle better than Jinx. I always found it funny that this six-foot-something woman despised a girl that wasn’t even half her height.

I followed my girlfriend out the door with a hidden smile. Finally, I could have her attention tonight. Would I have preferred to spend time with her at our apartment? Yes. Was I complaining? Absolutely not. At this point, I’d take all I could get.

The walk to the Last Drop was a quick one considering we lived quite close to it. The bouncers posted by the doors didn’t spare us a glance as they allowed Sevika to push through the doors.

The atmosphere was sweaty and the lingering smell of smoke and intoxication drifted through the air. I trailed behind Sevika as she made her way over to a table that was crowded with men playing card games. I wasn’t sure why Sevika loved to play cards so much, but I didn’t care to ask.

She sat down in her usual seat and her metal hand made its way around my waist, pulling me down into her lap. Just her touch alone sent a shiver down my spine.

She started a game with the guys and simply didn’t acknowledge me for the next ten minutes. This was bullshit. She had gotten my hopes up for what? A game of cards?

I scoffed under my breath and rolled my eyes. Sevika quirked a brow at my irritation, but her eyes never left the cards in front of her. I twisted my head around to survey the bar, and something- or rather someone caught my eye.

Sevika was stubborn and could hold out when I wore scandalous clothes or picked fights, but I knew she wouldn’t be able to stand this. Everyone knew Sevika was- possessive, which led me to my next decision.

I hopped up from Sev’s lap. “Where are you going?” She muttered. “I’m thirsty.” My face appeared bored, and she nodded. I waltzed over to the bar and took a seat next to a woman. I smirked to myself as I called over to Thieram, the bartender. “Two shots, please.” I smiled as he gave me a short nod.

“I know you.” Said the girl by my side. She blew her long, blue bang out her face as she studied me. Her azure eyes trailed over my features before realization hit her.

“You’re Sevika’s girlfriend, aren’t you?” She asked me. I tilted my head with a grin. “Depends on who’s asking.” I shrugged, letting my eyes scan her slowly. Jinx’s eyes narrowed, but I could detect a sly grin on her face. Jinx would do practically anything to get under Sevika’s nerves, and if I planned on finally getting the attention I fucking deserved from my girlfriend, this was the route to take.

Thieram placed the two shots in front of me and I slid one over to the blue-haired girl. “You’re Jinx?” I feigned ignorance. Everyone in the lanes knew who Jinx was. You’d have to be living under a rock not to.

“The one and only!” She smiled and we rose our glasses, both of us downing the burning liquid quickly. Jinx wiped the residue from her plum-shaded lips. “What’s a good-lookin’ person like you doing with a troll like her?”

My lips quirked into a smile. “She’s got her moments.” My eyes slid over to the woman in question. Sevika’s eyes darted over to us every so often, and I knew she was getting angry. Her grip on the cards was tight and her jaw was tensed.

I needed to push her a little bit more. My eyes returned to Jinx’s. “Are you with anyone?” My voice hinted curiosity, but I already knew the answer. She scoffed. “Relationships don’t interest me. I’ve got better things to do with my life.”

“Hm. I assumed someone with looks like yours would be in a relationship.” Her eyes widened slightly, as did her smile. “You hittin’ on me, toots?”

I ran my tongue over my bottom lip as I inspected her. “Maybe.” I gave Sevika another glance before moving my lips to Jinx’s ear. “Truth is,” I started, my eyes meeting Sevika’s from across the room. “I’m trying to make Sevika angry.” Sevika’s eyes narrowed as she watched my lips move a mere inch from Jinx’s skin.

Her grip looked lethal as it tightened around the glass she held. Her face promised death as she glared daggers at me. Jinx chuckled once I pulled back. “I can certainly help with that.”

Her hand fell to my thigh as her painted nails lightly drug across my skin. That seemed to be the final straw for Sevika. My eyes widened as I watched her shoot up from her seat and make her way toward us.

Jinx simply chuckled and took a sip from her drink once Sevika gripped my arm and pulled me away from her. Her touch was bruising, and I winced as she dragged me into the bathroom.

“Sevika, that fucking hurts.” I attempted to pull my arm from her hold to no avail. “It should.” She growled and locked the door. Before I could respond, I was being shoved against the door. One of her hands was wrapped around my throat while the other was against the door, trapping me.

“You’ve been acting like a little bitch for days. The fuck is going on with you?” She demanded. Her lips were curled into a snarl as her eyes burned into mine. My hands were on her wrist and my eyes were narrowed. “You’ve barely looked at me for weeks! This was the most we’ve spoken in days, Sevika.”

“So that gives you the right to act like this? You’ve been behaving like a child for some attention? Is that it?” She sneered, her grip tightening around my throat.

“It worked.” I smugly told her with a smile. By the look in her steel eyes, I knew I’d regret those words. The corner of her lips rose slightly. She yanked me over to the bathroom counter and I let out a yelp at the force.

She hoisted me up by my thighs and placed me on the cold surface. “You want my attention? Here it is.” She yanked off my pants and my eyes widened. Her nails dug into my skin harshly, and I winced at the feeling of blood escaping.

She pulled me to the edge of the counter and I yelped, trying to hold on to one of the sinks for balance. “Fuck!” I shouted at her roughness. I felt my skin hit the cold counter once she had torn away my underwear as well.

Her metal hand forced my upper torso back against the counter once I tried to get up. “Nope. This is what you wanted, right?” She tilted her head at me demeaningly.

I opened my mouth to protest before her tongue abruptly licked up my slit. A sharp gasp left my parted lips as she started going down on me. She lifted my thighs onto her strong shoulders and pulled me closer against her.

My hand fell to her dark hair and I gripped it harshly. “Shit!” I panted and bit back a moan. Her human hand gathered some of the wetness that had begun to gather and used it to shove two fingers into me. I hissed in pain, causing her to laugh cruelly into my cunt. The vibrations made me shiver, and her fingers began thrusting quickly.

I could feel an orgasm approaching as my breathing got shallower and faster. She sucked harshly at my clit, and she pulled away right as I was about to peak. My eyes narrowed at her. “What the fuck, Sevika?”

Her metal hand gripped my jaw. “You think you deserve to cum?” She hissed. I grit my teeth together. “Fuck you.”

Surprise passed through her features and a small huff left her lips. Without warning, she flipped me onto my stomach and her human hand she gathered my hair. She pulled it back and my eyes met my reflection. The cold metal of her robotic arm came in contact with my entrance, and she shoved a finger inside followed by two more. I cried out in pain as she moved them as far as she could.

A mixture of pleasure and pain deliciously shrouded my senses as she fucked me mercilessly. Strangled moans left my throat as my mind clouded. She moved her hand from my hair back to my jaw as she forced me to watch her fuck me in the mirror. I gripped onto the sink as tears formed in the corner of my eyes.

“Gonna cry, slut?” Her eyes watched me hungrily. “You’re just an attention-hungry whore, aren’t you?” She lowered her lips to my neck and bit down. A groan left my lips at her touch. “Answer me, bitch!” She commanded.

“Fuck- yes!” My head fell onto the counter as I saw stars. I could feel my high approaching and I prayed she would allow me this one. I clenched around her robotic fingers and she smirked against my skin before pulling out once more. “Damn it!” I groaned against the cold tile.

She lifted my head up and I saw just how pathetic I looked. Tears stained my cheeks, black mascara leaving a trail. My hair looked wild while she looked smug. “That enough attention for you?” She asked as she released me.

I felt weak and limp while I tried regaining my breath. I could nothing but watch as she stuck her fingers into her mouth. She teasingly sucked the residue that coated her skin, her eyes never leaving mine.

I sighed and pushed strands of hair from my face. “Sorry for flirting with Jinx.” She scoffed. “I’ll let it slide. Pull that shit again and you won’t cum for a month.” She threatened.

I smiled and slid off the counter, pulling my underwear and pants up. Her arm slid around my waist as we left the bathroom together.

[heavenwithgyu]

take it

pairing: minghao x gn!reader (ft friend!dk)

genre: its just fluff, ik the title sounds a little suggestive soz

a/n: i have hao brainrot and thought of this bc i adore the man so i decided to share with you guys !! still writing that prince thing for dk so look out for that :) ALSO !!! i wrote this on my laptop which doesnt mean much but idk just wanted to share

proofread: no i spewed this out of my mind and then posted it

w.c: 1.9k (this was meant to be shorter i swear)

warnings: reader can fit in hao's clothes? idk if that is anything but yeah and reader has hair at least to shoulders

"Want to go for a walk with me?" slipped out of your mouth towards Minghao before you could stop it, it's all you could think of when you realized it was nearing time for you two to leave to leave Dokyeom's house, which means splitting ways and you couldn't find it in yourself to do so.

It's not as if anything had happened to have prompted you to feel this way, feel as if you would die if you left his presence. It was a little dramatic but it was the truth, today out of all days, you were addicted to his aura, wanting to be near him just to be near him.

His eyebrows raised softly while he grasped the doorknob since he had been standing near the door, him opening it slightly to feel the cold air slide its fingers into the house, coating what it could before he closed the door back. "It's freezing, we can take a walk another time—" you cut him off, almost desperate to keep spending time with him.

"No," you replied firmly, feeling yourself shrink when he narrowed his eyes, "It's not that bad, I mean I'm fine and you should be too, you have your jacket." You were quick to give an explanation, knowing you couldn't explain the longing you were feeling despite him being right in front of you.

It sounded insane to you inside of your head and you couldn't imagine how he'd take it, he hummed while glancing behind you, you did the same to see Dokyeom there, a bright smile on his face. "Don't freeze," he told the two of you, a nod coming from you while Minghao was silent, you were suddenly worried you had pushed him too far.

Sure he was normally quiet, but this quiet? Especially when he could say something sly to Seok? He wouldn't pass up the opportunity, you turned towards him, opening your mouth to apologize and to tell him you would just go home.

"You ready?" he asked before you could get any words out, another nod and he was letting you out first, shutting the door behind him. He was right, it was freezing, why did you have to be this way tonight? You tried to hide the shiver that ran down your spine, knowing he saw it anyway, biting the inside of your cheek praying he wouldn't say anything.

Especially something that resembled him saying something that was between a scold and a jab at you for him being right, like he did often.

He didn't though, just remained silent as you two walked aimlessly down Seok's street, this was something that happened often when it was warm, when the moon seemed to shine with a yellow hue attached to it, practically warming you with the sight.

Tonight it was stark white, leaving you feeling colder than you wanted to, your teeth finding your bottom lip to play with.

"So," he breathed out after a couple minutes of you two walking, your pulse racing as you knew what he was going to ask, "What's up with you tonight?" He was blunt with his question, though he always was, which typically you liked him for but right now, you wanted the earth to split open and swallowed you whole.

You glanced at him, eyes moving right back to the sidewalk in front of you, tensing your jaw as you tried to think of something that wasn't confessing how much you couldn't stand to be away from him. You sighed softly while shrugging, "I dunno, just missed you I guess," you mumbled, missing how he smiled softly at how you didn't want to explain yourself.

He knew what was up, you weren't one to outright express being clingy with him because you knew he didn't really enjoy being clung to. What you didn't know is that he wouldn't mind if you were the one to cling to him, but he would rather eat hot coals than ever tell you that.

"You saw me two days ago," he pointed out with a chuckle, your eyes blinking a couple times while trying to figure a way out of this that wasn't leaving because you couldn't leave now, that would require you jogging back to Seok's place to grab your car.

Another shiver ran down your spine when the wind wrapped itself around you, fighting its way into your clothes to make you feel it full force, goosebumps quickly ran along your skin. Your hands found your sides, acting as if you had just crossed your arms, but you were trying to warm yourself up best you could without making it obvious.

You heard him sigh, your eyes glancing at him to see him unzipping his jacket, them quickly widening while you stopped walking out of shock, him doing the same while he turned to you, shrugging his jacket off. "Here," he offered, holding it out to you and that's when you came back to your senses.

You pushed his hand back softly, "No, I'm the one that made you walk with me, keep it," you replied, his eyes squinting at you slightly while he held it out to you again.

"Yeah and I'm the one giving you it, so put it on," he told you, his voice growing taut, he despised that stubbornness of yours that often forced him to not make any moves on you because you were always rejecting his help.

Your eyebrows furrowed while you opened your mouth, "Just take the jacket," he had cut you off without you getting to say anything, though he knew it would be another refusal.

"Hao—"

"Take it."

You blinked a couple times, having never heard his voice that stern before, you slowly grasped it in your fingers, pulling it onto yourself. He zipped it up for you, brushing your hair away from where the zipper was at the end. "There," he huffed, turning on his heel and continuing to walk, you taking a few seconds and then catching up to him.

You walked in silence for a couple minutes just like at the beginning of your walk, your hands in the jackets pocket to help warm them up from the cold. You soon noticed that the tips of his fingers beginning to turn red which only fueled the guilt you were feeling.

Without saying anything, you laced your fingers in his, his hand pulling back slightly before feeling the warmth and realizing what you were doing. So he just held your hand tighter, slightly swinging it as you two walked, he could feel your pulse on the pad of thumb and knew that you were doing it for more than just to help stave off his chill.

His thumb began softly rubbing against yours, your heart jumping from the feeling but no words left your mouth, a small smile on your face that you had tried to will away before it happened but it still managed to find its place on you.

"I know why you wanted to walk with me tonight," he broke the silence, your throat suddenly feeling as if you hadn't drank anything in days, your teeth biting your lip, "It's the same reason I agreed to it." What? What was that supposed to mean?

Did he feel the same longing?

No, that wasn't possible, he had never showed it, there was no way. "It's the same reason I even started these," he added on, his eyes glancing at you and you felt like your mouth was wired shut at the moment, no words wanting to leave you in fear he was lying for some reason.

You knew he wasn't, he wouldn't lie about something like this, but the doubt gnawed away the elated feeling in your chest. "I.." you trailed off, not knowing what to say and then just opting for what he already knew from what he said, "I like you." You never expected to confess, especially like this.

However it seemed he enjoyed it because he was laughing, your heart dropping while filling at the same time, "I like you too, dork," he used that nickname anytime you were any kind of cheesy around him, though normally they were just jokes or things you knew would work with what he said.

None of them had ever been honest until a few months ago.

The first time you meant it was when you had planned a group outing to the museum but only Hao and you showed up, leaving you two to admire the arts by yourselves. He had said something about how pretty a painting was and you were impulsively saying he was prettier, a smile filling his face while he called you a dork.

You realized you had meant it and that's what scared you that day, scared you up until now because he liked you, he had admitted it to you now and to himself that same day you had realized your own feelings. He couldn't stop his heart from fluttering the second that left your mouth but the worry that it was just another joke, just another perfect timed tidbit you couldn't keep to yourself, so he kept his feelings to himself.

"Y'know, you look good in my clothes," he mused softly, swinging your arms a bit more and you were laughing, thanking him quietly.

"It's just because you have good taste," you complimented back, watching his features morph to hold a wider smile, his eyes crinkling while he looked at you.

His hand squeezed yours, "Of course I have good taste, why do you think I fell for you?" Your eyes widened before you were bumping your shoulder into his, laughing louder.

"I'm rubbing off on you," you muttered, him nodding while bumping his shoulder back into yours, glad he got to spill his feelings finally, and know that you had reciprocated only made him happier.

"You are," he agreed, pausing as he seemed to think, "I'm glad it's the dorkiness and not your stubbornness." He teased, a roll of your eyes and you were pulling your hand out of his, but he didn't let you two stay parted for long because his fingers were quickly lacing with yours.

You didn't stop him because why would you? Everything seemed so perfect, so cozy despite the cold weather.

"Hot chocolate?" He suggested after feeling just how cold his hand was without yours in it, knowing there was a shop only a couple minutes away, and you were agreeing, on the condition he paid and he was furrowing his eyebrows. "If I remember correctly, you were the one that made us walk in the cold to the point where I had to give you my jacket so if anyone should pay, it's you," he argued.

He had a point.

You shrugged, nodding and then he was moving his hand to be away from yours, wrapping itself along your waist to pull you closer, "But I will pay, just because you deserve it." You hummed out a questioning tone, asking why you deserved it since you had done those things and he was just beaming at you, "Well, my baby deserves everything."

You faked a gag, pushing him away but not being able to hide the smile that slapped itself onto your face, immediately returning to have your arm wrapped his waist instead. "Whatever," you muttered, heart full over how he called you his, how it slipped off his tongue so easily.

Even as you were sat next to each other in the cafe, cheeks both red with cold while you had your pinkies intertwined, sipping it as you both sat in comfortable silence, you realized something.

The hot chocolate couldn't even compare to how warm his care made you feel.

[fullmoonandstar]

just leaving it here in case you’d be interested! Literally anything for Leto Atreides with femdom dynamic would be awesome!! ❤️‍🔥 everyone is writing him as a dom :( this is for you - 💐

This took pretty long but I hope it was worth the wait <3

I watched the movie but it did not help me that much with the characters. Leto is hot though. He is regal but also compassionate and I dig that. It's very tragic what happens to him but that's what fanfiction is for right?

Also, I’m surprised bc literally all of Oscar’s characters feel like closet subs lol

The timeout

Leto x Reader

Cw: dom! Afab Reader, sub! Leto, angst, thigh riding, urethral play (not very detailed), grabbing by the neck (explicitly not ch*cking or breath play, only used a gesture to assert dominance), pwp

Word count: 4.2k

Summary: Duke Leto Atreides has sent for your services tonight with a special request that you almost refused but not for the obvious reasons.

Or You are a professional dom who usually doesn't have feelings for your clients until you do.

A/N: I literally only saw the movie so no guarantees on any details XD In the movie they address Leto as "my lord" or "sire" but with his title of Duke it should be "Your Grace" and that's what I used here.

The guards at the door looked only from the corner of their eyes as you approached the Duke’s camber as if just knowing that you were there was improper. They could probably hear what was happening in the room on the other side of the wall. Just for the sake of the Duke’s safety, this would make sense. You recognized one of them from the last time you had been called to the palace, that time too he had been on guard duty here. You stopped in front of the door and waited. The guard who you already knew pushed a button behind him and wordlessly opened the door for you. 

As you stepped into the darkness, soft lights flicked to life, hidden in the ceiling and the floor their light bounced off the walls and filled the spacious bedroom with a warm atmosphere.

When the door closed behind you all sounds were shut out and only the silence of an empty room remained. As soon as the Duke of House Atreides would arrive, you two would find a way to fill it. 

You sat your bag down on the bed and let the cape slide down your shoulders. You could not hang it anywhere, so the cape found a place on the floor next to the bed. It made you wonder if this was by design, that the Duke got off on the sight of your clothes in his chambers. On the other hand, for someone of his rank, the Duke’s private room was modest, almost utilitarian. Only a bed, a few storage cabinets that you did not dare to even touch let alone open, and a place to sit and write. No lavish wall hangings, statues, or other frivolities were to be found here. This bedroom with its lack of pomp reflected its owner well. 

You opened your bag and looked at the tools inside. Earlier today a messenger had come to your home and had given you a note from the Duke. This request was quite specific and had come with the explicit choice to do it. You could have declined if it went against your taste or ethics. Normally people could not outright decline a request from the Duke like this and that alone made you feel special.

Usually, you would not come this early but today you had to prepare a bit before he would come to meet you here. He would leave his last meeting of the day, eat an in-between meal, then he would come into this chamber and expect to let himself fall under your guidance. It must have been quite a hard time for him if he wanted something more extreme than the last times you had been at his service. On the other hand, there was some natural progression with which people used your service. It always started out light followed by a phase of self-exploration until they found the limit of what was still comfortable. As you lay out all the things you would need at hand your mind inevitably shifted to the last time you had been here. The same warm light had shone on the Duke’s sweat-covered body as his hands grabbed at the soft sheets, not knowing what else to grab onto while his release swapped over him. The thought sent a chill down your spine. Today you had almost declined the Duke’s request and it had nothing to do with his request. Maybe that would have been better for your mental state. Even if he was not the Duke, Leto would be the most gorgeous man you had ever seen and you had made him chase his release for hours until he forgot even his own name, only bagging for you to have mercy on him. The image of Duke Leto naked, shining with sweat and needy, laying in this very bed while you sat next to him unable to get yourself off. It drove you insane. Last time you had gone back to your home and with trembling fingers, you had rubbed yourself until you came but it was not right, it was not enough. You had gone to your closet and chosen a toy but you were careful not to use one that was close to what you had seen earlier. You knew which one was approximately the right size but did not dare to use it. He was still the most powerful person, not only on this planet but the head of a whole system of planets. He could have you beheaded at any time that it pleased him. Duke Leto was not known to do such things but if you stepped too far out of line that was no way of knowing what would happen. Even if he was not one to relieve people of their heads, others in his inner circle may not be so kind. Every time you had sat in this camber to satisfy your ruler’s needs you felt blasphemous for wanting to feel his tongue between your legs and his heavy glory stretch you wide open. It was preposterous. He was the regnant and you were his subject, just because this was your profession did not mean you were entitled to taking what you wanted, no, because this was your job he expected you to be professional about it, not soaking your underwear at the thought of him. There was no way you could ever …

The scraping of the door made you jump and your heart hammered in your chest. He had appeared: Leto Atreides, Duke of House Atreides. By the gods, he was stunning. Recently his deep black hair had become streaked with white. Some men looked old once the first white appeared on their heads but the ruler of Caladan only became more regal. The dark grey uniform he wore highlighted his wide shoulders and despite the simple cut, it made him stand out as the most powerful person on the planet. Why would someone like him need a pompous outfit when he could enter a room wearing the finest clothes the spinners of the known universe could produce and have it be comfortable too? 

The lines that stress and age had drawn on his face melted when he smiled in the most dazzling way. 

“Your Grace.” 

You bowed down as he took a few more steps into the room and the door closed behind him, shutting out the murmur of the palace and the prying the ears and eyes of the guards once again.

“You have prepared already? I’ll get ready then.” 

He unfasten the belt around his waist and tossed it onto the pile of your cape.

"Come."

"Yes, your Grace."

You straighten. Your guts began to tighten into a hard ball as you walked over to him. The Duke looked at you expectedly. You willed your hand to stay steady but they shook when you reached for the collar of his jacket. The small hooks with which the Jacket was fastened resisted your trembling fingers and did not help your nerves.

"Should I call the camber lady?" he jested with an amused smile on his lips. 

In his day-to-day life, the camber ladies helped him to get dressed and undressed but you hated the thought of more people knowing that you were here, so your clumsy fingers had to do. His hot breath fanned over the skin of your hands as you fumbled with his collar. You were aware of how close you stood and his smell tickled your nose and set your gut on fire. Some traces of perfume, the lingering smoke of the pipes some of the ministers loved to smoke, and a smell that was unlike anything else, his own smell that never vanished. You fought the urge to bury your face in his neck. How had you done this in the past? One of the tiny hooks finally came undone and you let out a sigh of relief. There was a second one at the base of the collar while the rest of them were along the back. You did not dare to give into your desire to kiss his neck but one thing you could simply not avoid. Your fingers ghosted over the side of his neck as you move to open the other hook and tried to hide the hitch in your breath at the feeling of his hot, soft skin.  

The next hook opened easily and you stepped behind him. Your fingers followed the seam to the hooks on his back. Opening each one rewarded you with a bit more of his bare back. You swallowed hard and bit the inside of your cheek, all to not touch him again even though everything screamed to touch his hot skin. The last hook came undone and you took a step back. His Grace let the jacket slide off his arms and you pried to the gods of the old days to give you strength or strike you down where you stood. Neither happened. 

As always he turned to face you and you did not know where you should look. Into his warm brown eyes, the swell of his chest, and the plains of his stomach were all not good choices for different reasons. You chose to avoid the choice with a bow, not as deep as before but at least you did not have to look at him. He turned to go and wash off the day in the bathroom that belonged to this room. Just because you could only see his shoes that did not mean that the rest of him was not in your inner eye. Again you had to think about the torture of having to watch him come over and over without any relief for yourself and two words slipped your lips.

“Your grace.”

Still bowed, you saw his shoes halt at the sound. His stare weighed heavy on you even if you could not see his brown eyes. What were you thinking? You could not ask for this. Your stand was too low to even think about asking, and yet the experience from the last times made your gut twist into a ball of dread. 

“What is it?”

You could not bring the words to come out. Would you be instantly executed for even saying it? The guards were just outside the room and could hear more than you dared to think about. You should come up with something to say that was not the truth. Maybe you could still save your neck.

“I…“ 

The blood rushes in your ears and your head burned as you just stood there, staring at the Duke’s boots. 

“You can talk freely,” he said in a painfully soft voice. It made your heart somersault in your chest and you pressed your lips together, hoping to keep the words inside. You hoped he would let it slide and enter the bathroom instead if you just did not say anything. 

The sound of your name on his lips was like a boulder that rolled right through your wall of willpower. How could you deny him the information he was asking for? 

“Can I …? Can I get my release today?”

The silence that followed was deafening, it weights so heavy on your shoulders that you wanted to sink to your knees and the only reason you did not beg for forgiveness was that you were afraid to move. You were still alive even after saying that meant that the Duke had not realized what you had said and any movement could mean your end. So you stood frozen in place, holding your breath and listening for something but only hearing the rushing of blood in your ears. At any moment now the door would open and the guards would storm in to take you away or worst, relieve you of your head right there. Duke sucked in air and you pressed your eyes shut. Maybe he would just get his weapon and do it himself.

"Yes."

The word was like a needle that pierced you and the anxiety balloon that had kept you standing was losing air. 

"You can," he rang for the words while you still could not believe that you would probably live to see the next morning. "You can use my body as you see fit."

As always, his Graceretreated into the next room to take a bath and get in the headspace for want was about to happen. Usually, you did not need that time to prepare but today you sank down on the edge of the big bed and try to calm your hammering heart. He had said yes, and not just that. "Use my body as you see fit". How much trust he had to have in you to say that? 

When the door to the bathroom opened you had composed yourself because now the roles were reversed and you had to take care of Leto. He wore plain, dark grey pants and a simple shirt of the same color. If you had not known better you could have believed that he was just another guy from the streets, a very handsome one though. 

"Come over here."

You pointed to a spot right before you. Leto’s brown eyes lit up and the wrinkles that years of politics had craved into his face began to smooth. The time that he spent with you were the only moments where he was truly unburdened, free from what was going on outside of this room and you intended to do your best for him. Inside you still trembled from what he happened before but he must not see that now.  

"Kneel," you instructed when he reached the spot where you wanted him. Leto could barely hide his excitement and sank to the floor. The hard stone was surely unpleasant to kneel on but it was a low level of discomfort compared to what he would experience today. 

"Aren’t you a cute puppy?" you said and grabbed his chin. Others would have found it strange that you used the word "cute" for this middle-aged man but with his adoring eyes on you, it was hard not to feel that way. You scratched his soft beard and took three steps around him until you stood behind his back. 

The very first time you had been here had been all about wants and limits. One particular thing had crystallized in the following session, Leto needed one thing above everything else to get into the right mindset: a ritual. Every session after the 2nd one had started the same: he went to wash up or take a bath, and you would call him over to you and make him kneel. Now came the final part of this ritual before you started the next part. Your hand traveled from his right shoulder over the firm chest to the other shoulder until you had him in a chokehold and you could feel his heartbeat against his neck. It was just tight enough that he could feel you but did not restrict his breathing.  

"You are going to do exactly what I say."

"Yes, ma’am." He breathed the words more than he said them. 

"Will you follow my orders?"

"Yes, ma’am."

"Who is in charge here?"

"You are, ma’am."

Your whole body was lit up and tense. With every answer you could feel him sink more into your arms, eager and pliable. It was time to ask the last question, to finish your prologue.

"Who do you belong to?"

He sucked in air between his teeth and you gave him a tiny squeeze.

"I belong to you, ma’am."

"Good."

You released him and took a moment to calm your shaking legs before stepping in front of him. Keeping up the image of authority was important here. 

"Stand."

He obeyed eagerly and rushed to his feet. 

"Strip."

Now, this gave him a pause. Usually, he had kept his clothes on or only took off some things later. Leto reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head with a gleam in his eyes. He was a bit proud of his body, you realized. Vanity was not a characteristic you thought he had yet here he was enjoying you looking at him. Despite his schedule, Leto must take some time to take care of his body and it showed in his muscular arms, round chest, and flat stomach.

"Strip," You repeated in a warning tone when he did not move to remove the rest of his clothes. Leto looked into your eyes as he hooked his fingers under the hem of his pants and pulled them down. He had forgone any underwear, so he was now completely exposed. 

"Lie down on your back." 

He sat on the bed and got into the position that you wanted. You took the rope from the bedside table, grabbed his right hand, and lifted it over his head. 

"Your other hand."

You tied his wrists together and onto the headboard of the bed. His half-hard erection twitched when you tightened the robe. 

"Don’t struggle too much. You will be punished if you get bruises on your wrists."

"Yes, ma’am," he breathed. 

Now came the fun part: the tease. He had a special request but that did not mean you could not do something else first. You ran your fingers over the soft inside of his arms down to his chest and he whimpered. The inside of his thighs was especially sensitive and when you dragged your nails over the skin there he twitched and his eyes fluttered shut. You enjoyed the soft skin beneath your finger too much. You could probably spend hours just running your fingertips over some places that were smoother than the rest like the patch of skin right on his hip bone. The hairs were dense around the middle but quickly vanished towards the sides. You did not quite know why the feeling was so satisfying but you could hardly get enough of it. 

Leto could only watch as your hands explored all the soft spots of his body. He was painfully hard already and you had not even started. 

"I think it’s time now, don’t you?"

He stared at you with wide eyes when you took a box from the nightstand and opened it. The metal rods inside reflected the dim light of the bedroom on their polished surfaces. The two thinnest ones were made from a harder metal that did not bend as easily but was harder to manufacture and thus was more expensive. This kind of stimulation was overwhelming and for most, it was too much to take. You took him into your hand and he sucked in air through his mouth. So silky and hard. Your mouth was watering but you showed a neutral face. Be professional. Even after the little conversation, you had had you felt a barrier in your mind that did not let you do anything other than what you were here to do. 

 When the lubricated rode slowly entered, his mouth opened but no sound came out. Even though there was no objection you were careful. You did not know if this was his first time doing this but it was better to proceed carefully. 

When you moved the road Leto’s body tensed, his hands gripping the air in hope of finding something to hold on to. His drawn-out moan resonated in your body until it pooled between your legs. Here you were again, helplessly turned on, with a hammering heart, a dry throat, and sticky underwear. 

You needed to do something about the throbbing heat between your legs and straddled his thigh. His eyes flew open when your wet core made contact with his skin. He strained against the cuffs and his hands clenched and unclenched. He wanted to touch you. You dragged your hips back and forth and the whimper it drew from his lips made you clench. What would you give to sink down on the beautiful hardness in your hand? Anything, but it felt wrong, out of reach. The resistance in your mind was stronger even than that urge. You tried to see the bright side, denying him the feeling of being inside of you seemed to be pure torture for him too. 

“Please,” he whimpered. Words came hard to him in these moments with you so how desperate must he be?

“Do you want to be inside of me,” You asked in the calmest voice you could muster. 

A strangled moan was his only answer. Pulling the rode out almost pushed him over the edge. He gasped and looked at his erection in your hands, his eyes bagging even harder than his words ever could. You grabbed his chin and made him look into your eyes and said: “No, you're not getting that.”

He whined and you rocked your hips faster, pleading to the gods of old for a quick release while Leto squirmed trying to deal with his helplessness. He wanted to touch you, feel you, and cum inside of you, but you denied him all of that and it was driving him mad. You closed your eyes, concentrating on your clit dragging over his thigh that was slick with your arousal. You placed your hands blindly on his body for support and you were still surprised at how hard his muscles were for someone who did not have to work physically. Even for you, there was something deeply animalistic ing about the way muscles felt. It satisfied the oldest parts of you in the darkest corner of your subconsciousness. With a moan and curse on your lips, you pushed yourself over the edge of his thick, hard thigh. 

For a few breaths, there was only a comfortable nothingness all around you. The world manifested from the edges again, first the murmurs of the halls beyond the walls, Leto’s controlled breathing, his sweaty skin under your palms and pressed against your core, your own hammering heart, and your labored breathing. You opened your eyes to Leto staring at you with a mixture of wonder and desperation. 

Maybe it was time to give him his release too. You took his erection into your hand and stroked it slowly. 

“Did you like watching me?”

He did not answer but you had a feeling the answer was yes and I hate it. 

“You have been good today. Now come for me.”

Leto was indeed so good that he came on command. Another beautiful moan accompanied the hot streaks of milky liquid that painted a pattern on his chest. 

You gave him and yourself a moment to catch your breaths. 

“Come.”

You held out your hand for him and lead him to the bathroom. 

Taking care of him until he was back to himself was also part of your job and one that you enjoyed just as much. You took a washcloth from the shelf and soaked it in warm water. The soft, thick material must feel nice because Leto closes his eyes as you clean his body from his release and the sweat. 

“I didn’t know,” he said after a while. His eyes were present again. This was no longer your submissive pet but your ruler that stood in front of you. 

“You don’t want your other clients.”

It was not a question. Most of the people you assisted did not turn you on, in fact, only very ever had and wondered why he did. 

“No,” you confirmed. 

“Since when?”

“The second time.”

The first time had been quite normal but something had changed. He nodded.

You stopped with the washcloth and averted your eyes. It was improper of you to look into his eyes directly now that you were done with your job. 

“You know you have to tell me honestly when I ask you,” he said and you nodded. “Do you want to kiss me?”

A heat wave ran down your body as if you had been dumped into a hot pool of water, head first. You had to answer honestly but it was a blasphemous thing to say. He took a small step towards you and made you look into his eyes. 

“Do you want to kiss me?”

“Yes.”

You expect to be tackled down by the guards for saying such a thing but it did not happen. Instead, a hot mouth attacked your lips. Even though you could see it coming you were still taken aback by his action. For a few heartbeats, you were frozen in place, while your mind tried to understand the situation but every clear thought flew out the window when his tongue slid over your bottom lip. You opened your mouth in response and your hand tangled in his soft hair. He moaned into your mouth when you angled his head by pulling him into the position you wanted by his hair. His hands on your hips brought you closer until your body was flush against his, still-naked form. You lost yourself in the kiss and only pulled back when you ran out of breath. 

"Please don’t hold back next time," he breathed and planted a sweet kiss on your forehead.

A/n: I didn't know how to end this but also did not want to write more XD

[crypticjackal13]

can i request a oneshot about redson x reader is the daughter/son of the spider queen romantic when they are actually really sweet and always treats redsons wounds and they secretly like him but dont want him to find out cause their afraid their mother wont approve of it and he doesn't like them that way

Awww ok

I took this in a lot of directions AND included a happy ending bc it's for my mental health ;-; pls enjoy!

"Sparks Fly" (1622 w.c)

Redson x GN!Spider Queen's Child!Reader

Pronouns: you/yours

CW: author is projecting slightly, some food mentions, anxiety, you might cry?? I know I almost did!

For your dear friend Redson, it was entirely different. His parents didn’t “boss” him around per se, but they did give him guidelines in terms of how he should do things. On his own he was a force to be reckoned with who just happened to have an infinite supply of firepower. 

Being royalty was never easy. For you, it was living in frankly dank conditions underground as your mother, the Spider Queen, worked endlessly to expand her power. You helped out wherever you could. She showed you a certain softness to you that she didn’t spare for anyone else, refusing to let you go into life-threatening situations and demanding that if that was the case that Goliath go with you. The biggest muscle of the group, of course. 

You two had met some time after the New Year’s incident, when you just wanted a break from hearing your mother complain about her losses. You bumped into him out on the streets, and originally he was slightly afraid of you considering your spidery appearance and how he was a target of your mother’s venom. But from there you actually got to talking and developed a friendship of sorts. He wouldn’t admit that, insisting it was a matter of being allies and perhaps taking over the world on your own rather than with your parents. 

“Y/n, you’re playing with your food again. You skipped lunch, I want you to have some dinner.” Your mother snapped you out of your thoughts. You blinked a few times and then took a bite of your meal, but you could feel her eyes on you. Searching for discontent.

“Did you get up to anything interesting today, hon?” She asked. You shrugged. 

“Not really. Went to hang out with a friend,” you smiled at her. Her interest was piqued at this—who else were you socializing with outside of the caves? “I was wondering if I could actually take one of the bikes out for a ride tonight? The weather’s gonna be really nice.”

“Who’s your friend? You should bring them for dinner sometime.”

You hesitated. If you told her it was Redson, there was a chance she would go after him a second time.

“Um…it’s this really nice guy.”

She hummed inquisitively. You were still looking at her waiting for an answer to your question, but she was clearly trying to figure out who else you knew. 

“Oh, and yes. You may go out tonight. But I want you home before midnight.”

“Thanks, mom! I won’t be late, promise!” You finished the rest of your food and went to give her a quick hug. She gave you a fond smile as you waved to her on your way out. What you didn’t see as you left was that she had Syntax log in to some of the CCTV cameras around the city so she could keep a protective eye on you.

You were far from concerned about how the public saw you when you were out and about. With your purplish skin and bright green eyes along with a pair of fangs that were almost as large and sharp as your mother’s. You were feared—this isn't necessarily a problem. But you wanted one fiery demon in particular to see you as pretty, as worthy of proper love like you’d heard about in movies and books. 

“Took you long enough.” Redson was sitting on a bench in the park you two often met up in. It was almost directly in between the paths to your respective houses. 

“Sorry, I was eating. Mom was interrogating me.”

“About what?”

“I mentioned I was hanging out with someone, so she was trying to figure out who.”

“You didn’t tell her it was me, right?”

“Of course not! Now, come on, I wanna show you something!” You urged him to get on his bike and follow you, and thankfully it wasn’t a long drive to get where you wanted to be. There was a spot by the river where they would be doing fireworks that evening, and you wanted to go watch. If you played your cards right, you might even be able to tell Redson how you felt about him. You’d gladly help him get away from your mother’s venom if you needed to, but you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself.

“Look! It’s starting!” You pointed up at the sky from the back of the crowd that came for the same reasons you did. Redson adjusted his glasses and looked.

“It’s pretty cool.” He said. It didn’t seem like much on the outside, but you knew that meant he was enjoying it. 

You two stayed and watched until the very end of the show, and stuck around even after most of the crowd had dispersed. Worries were bubbling up and it was showing in how your palms grew to be clammy and your face heated up. 

“Are you alright, y/n?” Redson poked your arm. 

“I’m fine, just thinking!” You stammered. Was this a good idea? Should you just back out now and go home, so that way no one would even need to realize that something would have happened?

“Well, alright. Let’s get ready to leave, then.” He turned to start walking back to where you two had parked your vehicles, but you stopped him by grabbing his sleeve.

“Wait! There’s uh…” you let go as soon as his eyes locked with yours. “Something I wanted to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“I like you a lot! And I wanna be your partner!” You blurted out, keeping your gaze fixed on the ground. Your breathing was heavy as you took in the fact that there was no going back now. It was quiet for a moment, until a warm pair of hands took yours and intertwined your fingers together. 

“I really like you too.” He was just as nervous as you were, since his hair was flaring up without him being upset.

This surprisingly peaceful moment was interrupted by your phone beeping. Looking at the screen, it was your alarm to start heading home.

“I have to go. Otherwise she’ll send someone to get me.”

“Me too. Let’s go.”

You two went back to the park. You were about to watch Redson leave, but his path was blocked by Goliath. Syntax was here too, removing his weird headset thing. And behind you was your mother.

“Mom, I was just heading home!” You got off your bike to face her, but you were looking at Red out of the corner of your eye. 

“I know. And no worries, you’re not past curfew. However, this is much more interesting,” She stepped forward, placing a hand on your shoulder and looking at your (now) partner. “Tell me, hon. Were you gonna surprise me with just the fly I wanted on my web?”

You moved away from her for the first time in your life, going to stand by Redson and minding your stance as you stared at her. Your gaze was determined and you kept your eyes peeled for any sudden movements from the two figures behind you.

“I wasn’t. I was having fun and enjoying some quality time with him.”

“What, like you two get along? Y/n, dear, you’re a little far out of his league.” 

“We do get along! We’ve been friends for months now! You just haven’t noticed ‘cause you’re always working!” You ranted, the words all leaving your mouth before you could properly filter them. Your mom was shocked at this, her eyes widening in surprise. “You’re always busy. I wanted to talk to new people. So I did, and um…now we’re lovers.” 

Well, that Band Aid hurt to rip off, but it was done, and Redson took one of your hands to squeeze it reassuringly. Tears were welling up in your eyes. Your mother dropped her menacing facade. Her dress swayed as she approached you on her mechanical spider legs. 

“You love this kid?” She gestured to Redson. You nodded, trying so hard not to cry. “And you love my kid?”

“With every part of me.” Redson answered. She opened her arms to you, and despite your fear, you embraced her. You sobbed into her torso, begging her not to hurt him. She shushed you, running her claws through your hair. 

“I’m sorry, y/n. Sorry I haven’t been giving you my time. And I’m sorry you think I’d lay a finger on anyone you hold dear, even someone I’d classify as an enemy.” She spoke quietly, so mostly just you could hear. 

“So you’ll leave him alone?” You looked up at her. She shook her head. 

“I will, but ONLY if he swears on his LIFE that he won’t hurt you. EVER.” She pretended to cradle your face in a funny way as she pointed a claw at Redson. He put his hands up to show he didn’t mean any harm. You stopped really crying and started laughing as she squished your cheeks.

“I promise, I won’t!” He half-laughed, wondering if it was appropriate for him to join in on the sentimentality. 

“Good. Now go ahead and run along, otherwise your parents will come after me. And frankly, I ain’t up for that.” She waved her hands, as if dismissing the possibility, and Syntax and Goliath started heading back to the manhole to get back underground. Redson gave you a hug, before zooming off on his motorcycle. Your mother looked down at you. 

“I promise you I’ll start balancing things. Relax a little. Work on not eating your partner...”

“No one’s eating anyone!!” You playfully tugged on her arm as she laughed to herself.

“But seriously, thanks mom.” 

She patted your head. 

“Of course.”

[moonchildstyles]

i was rereading the aster one shots and i absolutely loved how harry was watching angel throughout her interaction with that creepy guy that was making her a drink, and when he saw that she was about to take a sip he really said nope not on my watch !!! like the way he was so worried for her that he got angry bc of how easily she can be taken advantage of was so hot, like he didn’t even let her stay at the party he just wanted her to be safe and at home, and don’t even get me started on their first kiss !!! i know he was laying on his tummy and swinging his legs in the air after he dropped her off 😭

BESTIE!!!!!!!! THATS LITERALLY EXACTLY HOW I PICTURED THAT WHEN I WROTE IT:((((((((((( like he hadn't seen her when she came in with Clare and Sarah so he didn't see her when she spotted him w Chloe and get a little mopey and go to the kitchen but eventually he did spot her and he just kept a quiet eye on her as she talked to this guy bc he knew his reputation for being a bit of a creep at these functions but he wasn't going to intervene unless she needed him to or something so hes just watching and his frown is getting deeper and deeper and deeper until Chloe is trying to talk to him but hes just >:( and when he sees her look away when hes getting her a drink and he can't see what this guy is doing either bc he put his back to the party where he was messing w the drink so even tho harry can't say for sure something bad was her in her juice he also cant say that there wasn't so when he sees her ab to take a sip hes like yeah no this isn't happening and hes just mad immediately bc she shouldn't have to worry about things like that and hes just frustrated bc isn't it like a common rule that you don't look away when someone is making your drink???????? and just !!!!!!!! the worrying puts him on edge so hes not happy and you know he thought they had a little bit more of an understanding after the last couple of days and she knew he would be here tonight so hes a little :( that she didn't come find him before talking to someone else and hes just Grumpy and Frustrated but first things first he needs to get her away from this guy and that just turns into him literally takin her from the party and going somewhere quiet and then somewhere quiet turned into him driving her right back to town and her house and then his house and ofc THE KISS:(((((((( you are so true about him kicking his feet after dropping her off he def went home and texted her w his feet in the air twirling his hair and giggling :) and on the drive home after he dropped her off he def sang along to every song that played in the car super loud w a smile on his face :)

[haruhey]

Mind If I Join You?

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Word count: 13k (i am SO SORRY i got carried away and this fic turned out SO FILTHY but i hit 300 followers so consider this a gift??)

Established Relationship Fluff | Smut

There’s only one bed shower, and Daryl Dixon is an opportunist.

the request:

every single fic of yours is seriously amazing. ur a great writer!! can i request a daryl shower smut bc wooweeeee

There’s always a giddiness inside Daryl when he returns from runs. No more sleeping in the RV for nights on end, no more eating cold canned chicken soup and - as much as he liked Aaron - no more hearing him talk about how much he missed Eric and making him miss you, too. He’s exhausted, his muscles sore from overuse, but the fact that you’re probably curled up in bed makes him so damn excited that all the ailments of his aging body are swiftly forgotten with each step he takes.

Houses fly by in a blur as he ramps up into a jog, his feet taking him to the dim light of a moving lantern in your shared bedroom window. By Daryl’s estimate, it couldn’t have been more than 10 or 11pm, but time meant little in the apocalypse - it was either dark out, or light and with the days getting shorter, he noticed you using the lantern more and more frequently. Just a few days ago, you had fallen asleep curled up on his chest, the soft orange light filling the room before he strained his body trying to turn it off without waking you. The next morning he had a terrible cramp running from his rib up to his bicep, but he never complained. Not even a wince in your presence since he thought the soreness was worth it. He would rather die several times over than lose the image he saw - of your pillowy lips taking soft, steady breaths of air while you slept against his bare skin.

Smiling, he lets himself remember the way you looked when he first gifted it to you, a grin that spread to the apples of your cheeks and crinkled at your eyes plastered on your face. It wasn’t a perfect replica, but it looked close enough to the one you would both light on nightwatches in the prison - which he thinks was when he first realized he loved you. Daryl also remembers the first night he saw you use it, the memory so vivid in his mind that he felt like if he reached out, the soft fabric of your pajamas would welcome his touch.

He could picture it now, your back against the headboard, reading one of the books that littered the shelves he never touches. Your face bathed in the lantern’s hue while your eyes scanned the pages and drinking in every word of whatever you were holding. He plucked that book right out of your hands that night and pulled you onto his lap, kissing the pout off your face until you weren’t annoyed at him anymore, rendered down to just laughing against his lips.

Fuck, he couldn’t wait to get home and see you again.

Daryl curses under his breath as he fumbles a little with the doorknob, but the profanities are quickly replaced with a huff of accomplishment as he practically sprints to the bedroom, boots shucked off haphazardly at the front door. He skips every other stair with long strides, desperate to feel you in his arms. When he enters the bedroom, he places his crossbow on the dresser and is surprised to see the room as dark as it is, the only source of illumination being the moon as it streams through the windows. The bed is empty and the blankets are strewn to your side, but neither you nor your pajamas are anywhere in sight. Panic flies through him before he registers the unmistakable sounds of the shower running, and he scoffs at himself when he sees the dim orange light peeking from beneath the bathroom door.

Had you known how worried he was for a second, you would have laughed at him. He was already so protective of you before the two of you got together, but it was another level entirely when you both made it official. It wasn’t just losing you to the dead anymore - it was also losing you to other people. Daryl knew you could take care of yourself, he had seen you hold your own on runs in the prison and trips outside the Alexandrian gates, but, God, if anything happened to you he wouldn’t know what to do. Being apart from you once when the Governor attacked was already almost too much for him to handle, but the thought of losing you and having to be okay with the fact you were never going to love him again? That was something he never wanted to experience.

Leaning against the wall, he pulls off his belt and places it next to his crossbow, his vest following not long after. The mattress squeaks slightly when he makes his way over to it and lies down, his body feeling almost instant comfort at the feeling of something other than the hard leather of his bike’s seat. Days like this made him think that maybe you were right in jokingly telling him that his motorcycle was a dumb choice for long runs - his tailbone was probably shaped like a rectangle from how long he’d been sitting on his ass.

A few moments pass as he allows himself to indulge in some rest, eyes closing and already in the first stages of a slumber before he shoots up, pushing himself to the edge of the mattress and sitting straight. Fuck, he needed to shower. He had given you his word that he would. Each time before he fell asleep after a run, he’d said; and Daryl Dixon was not one to break promises. Especially not to you.

Getting off the bed, he sheds his shirt and throws the old fabric onto the dresser, grimacing at the knowledge he would have to scrub at the dried walker blood come morning. His socks are next, pulled off by impatient hands and left on the floor, not even given a second glance as he then pulls open a drawer and grabs a pair of boxers from his meager pile. The only thought in his mind being the feeling of smooth sheets and your body against his skin. He’d pick up his clothes after his shower - if he could even muster up enough energy to.

Step by step, he makes it a good few feet out of the bedroom before he realizes the other second floor bathroom doesn’t work. If his memory served him correct, there were some plumbing issues and, before anyone could buy replacements, the world became, well, what it is now. After all, it was the only reason you and Daryl even took this house - nobody else wanted to have only one shower and, after becoming a couple, sharing one between two people didn’t seem all that bad. At least, that’s what he thought until now. Groaning, he rubs his eyes in an attempt to rub out the fatigue in them before his whole body lights up with an idea. Maybe he could have some fun with this. And if you asked, he could always blame the missing pipe or whatever it was that the Alexandrians couldn’t fix.

Practically thrilled, he mentally pats himself on the back and rushes back to the bedroom. Tired? Not anymore. Daryl can’t be if he wants to fulfill what just popped into his mind. Years of hunting leave his footsteps nearly silent when he enters the bathroom, but he’s not exactly at a disadvantage in terms of noise. The rhythmic beating of water against the tiled floor drowns out the slight squeak of the door as well as the hitching of his breath when he notices the gap. With how the room was designed, just standing at the door led his gaze in a nearly direct line of sight to you, the shower curtain lying an inch or two from the wall and offering him a vision which he doesn’t hesitate to indulge in.

It’s not like he's never seen your body - far from it, actually - but there was something about you that made him hesitate when it came to stuff like this. You deserved sweet and soft, affectionate with declarations of love between his kisses, and while he enjoyed giving that to you, sometimes he wanted something different. Sometimes Daryl wanted to act on impulse - to feel a different type of desperation - and tonight, he wanted to act out one of his long-hidden fantasies. One that involved you on many, many occasions.

Truthfully, he couldn’t fucking stop thinking about it since Merle and his buddies showed him that damn VHS as a hormonal high schooler. He never really had a committed girlfriend or anything like that to ever even pluck up the courage to ask, but that fantasy remained like a phantom in the back of his mind, lying just outside his finger’s reach. One that haunts him late at night and renders him withering in his own palm. At least, that was the case. Because he has you now and how he managed that? He didn't know. But he felt confident enough around you and trusted you enough to pursue the desire in him.

A shiver courses through him, running along the tip of his spine when he considers the possibility you might like it as much as him - and if you did, maybe he would divulge to you more of these secrets he’s always kept hidden so well.

With silent movements, Daryl unbuttons and unzips his jeans as he leans against the door of the bathroom, just barely suppressing a groan when his fingers graze the zipper. He curses himself, chastising his sensitivity at the mere image of you doing something as mundane as taking a shower, but he knew it was an inevitable consequence. Ever since the prison, anything you did got him riled up - even just seeing you sitting on his motorcycle made his skin light up with goosebumps. Left in only his boxers, he steps out of the denim pooling at his feet and picks it up, throwing it haphazardly onto the cream coloured counter as he waits for you to take notice of his presence. The metal button clashes against the smooth marble of the vanity, and its noises sound across the room, your eyes opening and your fingers catching the edge of the plastic curtain as you dart your head out, searching for the source.

Your body tenses up, no doubt the experience of living out on the road for so long, but the fighting instinct drains from you the moment you see the affectionate boyish grin playing on Daryl’s lips. It’s barely visible as he stands so far from the meager light source, but it sends an eager smile onto your face. Like all those times he’s returned to you, you want to run to him, feel his arms wrap around you and inhale his scent as you plant those incessant kisses he ‘hated’ everywhere on his face, but that urge only serves to remind you that you’re standing naked in a shower and he’s just staring at you.

“Daryl! What the- I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.”

Embarrassed, you speak, voice pitched higher than normal from the shock and excitement coursing through your body. However, he stays put, leaning against the door as he drags his eyes up the expanses of skin afforded to him; that is, until you pull the plastic curtain to cover yourself and run your free hand through your hair, tilting your head ever so slightly in order to urge his eyes to meet yours. You wait for his response as you brush the wet strands back from your face, but it never comes, him instead choosing to stride towards you and send you a pout before pulling petulantly at the shower curtain, trying to coax you to let go of it. Raising an inquisitive eyebrow, your grip loosens and he can barely hold back his excitement when you really do let go, tongue peeking out for just a second before he hooks his lip between his teeth.

Throughout your relationship with Daryl, you learned he loved looking at you, gawking at and admiring each angle, birthmark and curve until you felt heat flush through your body. Even before the two of you got together, his gaze stuck on you, longing and soft when you weren’t looking, only hardening if your eyes ever met his. Each time he saw you it was like he was still in disbelief that you were his, forever suspended in the wide look he had when you first confessed to him, hence why you didn’t pay much attention to his stare as you moved to pump out some shampoo. You didn’t really know why he was in the bathroom and he made no effort to tell you, but you were here to clean yourself. So that’s what you’ll do. He’ll probably leave sooner or later after making sure you weren’t hurt anywhere, anyways.

The way the light from the lantern bounced off your glistening skin made you look like some sort of goddess. Like an otherworldly being he shouldn’t be looking at. Or like a succubus, sinfully tantalizing, except you didn’t know what you were doing to him as you raked your hands through your hair again, bubbles forming already between your fingers as you scrubbed. Shit, this was way better than he expected, and he’s gladly taking in everything it was offering. Shifting his weight, he clenches and unclenches his fists - commanding himself to keep them at his sides - but then you turn around, allowing the water to rush down your back and his resolve withers away as he tries not to envy the path along which it’s falling.

Soon, the little space between the shower curtain and the ceramic tiling isn’t enough for him. He needs to feel you against him, his trembling hands and suffocating boxers egging him on like this was the first time he’s ever seen you naked. Clearing his throat, he urges himself to move, building his confidence which had seemed to dissipate nearly immediately as you locked eyes with him. What he wanted to do wasn’t sweet or affectionate, and even though he knew you would tell him if you didn’t like it, he just didn’t really want to risk even doing something you didn’t like in the first place.

“Sorry I, uh, I’ll go rinse out my hair somewhere else. Here, I’ll get out so you can-”

This was it. He had to act now or he’ll lose the opportunity. Running his thumb across his bottom lip, he watches as your hand reaches for the shower valve, but your movements and voice stop when Daryl shoots his dominant hand out, the calloused skin wrapping around your wrist in a warmth that makes you snap your gaze to his. While firm, he never applies enough force to hurt you - he knows what kind of men there were in this world, and he didn’t know what he would do if you ever thought of him like that. On the contrary, the feeling of his fingers around you is welcome, especially after what felt like years away from him. Giving him that same inquisitive look, except this time laced with a small smile, you can tell by the way he’s gnawing at his lip that he has something to say. Something that has him hesitating in a way you’ve never really seen him hesitate before, well, besides the first time you both kissed.

“Actually, mind if I join ya? ‘Cause ya see, the other shower don’t work and there’s this girl - my girl - she’s amazin’, but she doesn’t let me into our bed ‘til I shower and I’m damn tired.”

Oh.

Noticing the way you tense up slightly at his suggestion, he offers more, another reason to sway you into accepting as if the pursuit of his little fantasy would both begin and end with what drops from his lips. This definitely felt more daunting, like a much larger leap than him asking for permission to kiss you.

“I also heard showerin’ in pairs saves water.”

Oh.

Yeah, you get why he was hesitating now.

Honestly, Daryl really couldn’t give a fuck about the water he was talking about. What he had in his running mind had little to do with his environmental footprint and more to do with feeling your skin on his and the image of you coming undone for him. He hasn’t been home - been with you - in what felt like weeks, and he thought the generator could stand to work a little harder after running for one person for a few days. With a slight upwards twitch of his eyebrow, you can feel what little apprehension you had leave your body and his heart pounds in his ribcage with the anxiety of what’s to come. At least, he thinks that’s why its beating at 100 miles per hour.

It surely can’t be the residual hormonal anticipation or excitement from his youth.

“And who exactly did you hear that from?”

The slight joking edge to your voice causes him to smile, but it’s a mischievous one, one that holds promises and sends a shiver through your body. Daryl really had no clue what he did to you when he looked at you like that, his piercing blue gaze hitting you as his head tilts down almost sheepishly to the grip he has on you.

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a glint residing in them that draws you to look at nothing but him as he runs his thumb along the bone of your wrist. With a tilt of his head, he speaks, muttered as he gnaws once more at his lips and lets go of his hold.

“It matter?”

So nobody, probably.

The amusing thought sends you shaking your head ‘no’ as you smile, pulling open the plastic curtain in invitation while trying to suppress the idea that just popped into your head. Daryl just wants to shower and the only reason he wants to shower with you is to fulfill that promise he had made. Because he just wants to go to sleep. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, he’s hopeful that you would be watching him - and he’s fully prepared to make a show of stripping his last piece of fabric - but he’s sorely disappointed when he sees your eyes closed in an attempt to keep the bubbling shampoo from burning at them.

Why weren’t you looking at him? Was he not overt enough?

Wow, he really wasn’t very good with… whatever it is he’s trying to do, huh?

You shuffle forward from the steady stream and he takes that as his cue to step in, gladly placing his body just a few inches from yours and sighing in relief when the water hits his sore muscles. The sounds don’t go unnoticed by you, and your heart sinks a little with each suppressed groan of pain Daryl lets out. He always worked so hard for Alexandria, and they still treated him like somewhat of an outsider, questioning his true intentions with harsh looks when he even so much as walked too close to them. But they didn’t seem to mind him much when they were eating the animals he hunted, though, and that sent your blood boiling.

Turning around, you try not to let your gaze drop too low as you place your hands on his shoulders, frowning when you feel the stiff knots that have burrowed their way underneath his skin. Almost immediately, Daryl submits to your touch, an all too familiar warmth bubbling in his heart as he, too, turns and exposes his scar ridden skin to you, allowing your thumbs to rub circles into his upper back. He always loved this - the domesticity of these moments, the wordless communications, your love and affection directed solely at him - and he’s starting to forget the real reason he crashed your shower in the first place, lulled into relaxation under your nimble fingers and the water beating down on his overworked muscles.

“Does that feel better?”

Your question warrants a response landing somewhere between a grunt and a groan, but then you laugh and he swears his heart swells tenfold. He missed hearing that. Even if you got embarrassed of it sometimes, or hid it muffled behind the palms of your hands, he loved hearing it. Because you glowed when you did, your eyes crinkling up at the corners with a smile that almost always brought him to his knees, and perhaps almost selfishly, the knowledge that he doesn’t want to be away from you any longer dawns on him - as well as the knowledge that it’s inevitable that he has to leave again soon. Whether it be with Aaron or Rick, or some of the poor bastards that piss their pants whenever they see him.

When you stop your ministrations, he feels himself frowning as you tap him once with your thumbs, but he elates almost immediately when you speak promise of a better massage come morning. He’s slightly ashamed of the way his whole body lights up in goosebumps in anticipation, but it’s not unwarranted. Spending late mornings with you was something Daryl never knew how the hell he had lived so long without, and they were his favourite types of mornings by a long shot. Especially when it ended up more often than not with you on him or him on you, the both of you thankful for the misfit house you had all to yourselves and away from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears.

“You’re too damn good to me.”

But he deserves it, you think to yourself, He deserved to be cared for like this.

His praise drips with a softness he didn’t even know he was capable of until you came along and Daryl turns back around to face you, smirking lopsided when he sees a shy smile worm its way onto your face. He had to have known what he was doing when he said stuff like that - especially when he used a voice like that. Seriously, how long had the two of you been together? It felt like an eternity already, but he could still make you flustered from a simple compliment. Shaking your head, you rest your wrists at the nape of his neck and use the leverage to pull his lips to yours, thumb swiping at the blood dried at his cheek and hoping the distraction of your tongue on his will keep him from teasing the warmth crawling up your neck.

A ‘hm?’ noise falls from him, small and surprised as his eyebrows raise for just a moment before his hands loop around your waist by instinct. When you pull away, another noise falls from Daryl, but this time it’s more disappointed than anything, and he chases your lips with his bottom one jutted out, taking full advantage of the strong arms he has wrapped around you. Holding you in place, his eyes plead with the now perfected ‘one more’ look you’re all too familiar with and you can’t bring yourself to deny him - he knows you can’t. Closing his eyes and puckering his lips as he waits patiently, he hums when you finally kiss him again, his satisfaction vibrating down to the hollow center of your collarbones before begrudgingly letting you go when you pull away again.

The water runs a brownish red from the dried walker blood being washed off his body and he scrubs furiously at his arms, trying to gauge the right move that will get your thighs shaking and your moans bouncing off the ceramic tiles he’s seen less than he’s willing to admit. Should he just… go for it? Just pull you against him and push you up against the walls he wants your noises to echo off of? No, he should come up with a better idea. You deserved a better idea.

Running his thumb along his jaw, Daryl sneaks furtive glances at your body - who the hell he was hiding them from, he didn’t know - and picks even more skin off his chapped lips as he watches you twist at your waist ever so slightly to comb through your hair. Swallowing down his spit like some teenager, he watches your shoulder blades protrude and disappear, intently following the droplets of water as they fall along your neck and down the muscles you’ve developed. He had to hand it to the sorry rich prick who had designed this house because, all things considered, they did a pretty good job; there was just enough spread of it between the two of you to pass as a decent shower. Even if you or him had to oddly angle yourselves to warm a cool patch of skin.

Reaching towards the shampoo bottle, his arm brushes against your waist almost feather-light, but it sends a shiver through you, rattling your ribs and making your cheeks flush all the same. Daryl lingers for a moment longer than you expect, his body leaning as he stretches over and you think he’s going to step forward - wrap you up in him - but dutifully, respectfully, anxiously he stays put. You want his touch, especially after nights alone with only the scent of him on his side of the bed to keep you company, and, having caught a quick glance at his straining boxers before he joined, there’s little room for doubt in your mind that he wants you. But still, it exists.

Your own arms begin to sore when he finally pulls away, his hands now raking through the hair he seemingly never wants to cut. Clearing your throat, you turn around, eyes screwed shut as you face Daryl, fearing for both the shampoo you’re washing out stinging at your eyes and the fact that if you looked at him, your gaze would probably drop. God, was all it took just a few days without him to have you craving him like this? The close proximity coupled with the knowledge he’s standing next to you naked makes you tense up before a shiver runs up your spine, your thoughts causing your breath to hitch for barely a second. Despite your efforts to suppress it, your subconscious prays that he picks up on the little noise. Please let him pick up on it.

And he does, ever observant as he connects the dots, the initially surprised look on his face melting into a small anticipatory smirk before he all but races to lather his hair in the coconut - or was it grapefruit? - scent. This was good. This was damn good.

He dares take a step forward, tentative, testing out the waters as if he was unsure of your desire, but he knows he can read you, and that he can do it well. This was when he should do something, right? The subtle confirmations - a tense, a shiver, a hitching breath - beg him to. Under the streaming shower, Daryl impatiently scrubs at his scalp, teeth hooked permanently atop his lip as he watches the rivulets of watered-down shampoo catch along your skin, his fingers and mouth itching to replicate its path down your neck to your chest. He knows that path well, and perhaps that’s what makes him even more envious.

Thank God for the fact you’ve closed your eyes because if anybody saw Daryl right now, they would take a step back, maybe even several thinking he was angry. How could they not when he was glaring at you as if you had done something horrible? It’s a surprise to him, the fact that it seemed like you really could not feel the burn of his stare, but then a thought pops into his lust-fogged brain. Maybe you did know. And maybe you were toying with him, playing coy and pushing him to a teetering edge, letting him taste the tension on his tongue until he could hold back no more.

To say he’s impatient is an understatement. He isn’t simply impatient, no, he’s impatient. He wants to do something. He wants you to do something, to initiate the flurry of hands and lips he’s craving so desperately and, seemingly blind to that triad of signals, he scrubs frantic at his hair in an attempt to control himself. As he rinses out the shampoo, he manages to cling onto what little restraint he had over his body until you turn back around. It was like the universe was egging him on, trying to break his resolve by showing him those dimples on your lower back, reminding him of the way he gripped them when he took you that night before he left - and it works. Jesus fucking Christ does it work.

Daryl’s body crowds you then, muscular arms wrapped around either side of your waist and rough hands palming at your chest before sliding down to your stomach, pulling you flush into him while he grinds his hips experimentally against your body. The feeling catches you off-guard, eyes widening in surprise as you let out a gasp into the steam of hot water and you grip harshly at his forearm, attempting to steady yourself from the sensations blossoming from your thighs. He can feel them tense and begin to snap closed against him, but you hear the corners of his mouth twitch upwards with satisfaction.

“What- what are you doing?”

Restless, his fingers travel downwards, hooking a strong thigh between your two legs as he ignores your question, them parting immediately to accommodate him. Daryl’s veins thrum with adrenaline, feeling the all too familiar effects of your warm skin when he realizes you’re letting him do this - enjoying him, even - your hands pawing at his to beg him to speed up, to bring you that nirvana he loves to be the reason for. Heat flushes your body, knowing full well what he’s capable of, but despite it, your skin erupts into goosebumps under his touch, desperate for more.

“What’s it look like ‘m doin’?”

Your neck comes under his affection next, his lips meeting it as he mumbles the words against your pulse point, tongue darting out when he feels it speed up. Almost methodically, Daryl finds the marks he’d left days prior, darkening them with unadulterated determination and rolling his hips against you once more. The heavy motion draws a whine from you, short and needy as your nails dig into his wrist and he all but basks in it. God, this felt good. How the hell had he spent so long without you? Without your skin under his? Everything about you feels like a fucking drug to him.

“D-Daryl- what would your girl say.”

He smiles against your neck, a warm pride bubbling in his chest when he hears the slight shake in your voice. It always got like this when he was touching you, and he liked to think it was the anticipation raking through your body. All the possibilities he could bring to you. He loved listening to your voice as it was, but hearing it quaver as it bounced off the ceramic walls, mingled perfectly with the rhythmic thrum of water crashing against the two of you? It was almost alarming how quickly it made his head spin.

Submitting to your urging, he lets you slide his hands down to the apex of your thighs, groaning guttural into your ear when he feels your hips lift and rut into his touch, unintentionally grinding your ass onto his cock when you push yourself back onto him. Hooking his chin over your shoulder, you hear his breaths as he digs his palm an inch below your pelvis, thick fingers gripping harsh at your inner thighs as he nudges his further between them. It feels like fucking magic, whatever he’s doing, and a plea tingles at your lips before you bite it down. Daryl’s never been this bold, and this is new territory for the two of you. Very new. So you were going to let him take his time - let him explore every inch of your skin as if he didn’t already have it memorized - despite the fact every cell in your body screams for you to sink down on him right here and now.

His grip disappears too quickly for your taste, but before you can even register the decadent sear that marks his blunt fingernails and calluses, his palm makes home just below your stomach and he swipes two fingers against you, spreading you for him but avoiding that bundle of nerves you want so desperately for him to touch. An expletive drops from Daryl’s lips as he gathers evidence of your arousal, and the sound of him makes you claw at his wrist, your hands still blanketing his as you try to angle him to do something other than coat his fingers and smear you across your inner thighs. Amused, his middle finger curls, breaching you just until his first joint before pulling away, relishing in the way you clench as if trying to keep him in you.

“Hm, I dunno. What do ya think she’d say? I think she likes it.”

You can hear the self-satisfied smirk on his face as he feels your body react and you can practically see it behind your closed eyelids. Daryl knows all your buttons, every single movement that renders you down to a puddle of mush, but he’s avoiding them. His jaw clenches and unclenches as you buck your hips up to try and meet the talented fingers only getting further and further and further from you. Skin warm from the streaming water and the sheer amount of lust coursing through him, his left arm snakes upward, resting just under your breasts before pulling your shoulders flush against him. His teeth sneak out from behind his lips, grazing against that spot that made your thighs shake the first time you slept with him, and you become putty in his hands.

A gasp of Daryl’s name falls before a staggered whimper erupts from your throat, his hands moving so fast and sure along your body as if he had molded you to his perfection. Everything hits you at the same time, his sharp canines right below your jaw bone before they melt into the caress of slightly chapped lips, the hand at your chest palming and tweaking and toying like there was no tomorrow, his fingers swirling, nudging at that tiny bundle of nerves you’ve been silently begging him to touch just once, and you can’t stop the noises falling from your lips. No matter how much you try, they escape.

“Or d’ya think she’s too busy moanin’ for me to tell me?”

Oh, that fucking prick.

To make it worse, you can’t even bring yourself to be angry for that long because his voice drops into that low, husky whisper that makes your knees go weak. Had Daryl not essentially smothered you against his body, you just know you would be a puddle, pliable and aching after just a few days away from him. A jolt of pleasure rockets through you the moment you realize what he wants - to make you as desperate as he is for this - and you know he knows exactly how to get it. Biting your lip, you trap your sounds in your throat just to spite him and you dig your fingers into his forearm, seeking in any way to find another outlet for all the compounding stimulation he just keeps giving you.

Your heartbeat drums through your ears and you can barely register the growl against your skin, but the vibration of it is inescapable. He feels the crescent shapes already forming from your nails on his tan skin and he pulls his face from you, breath fanning your ear in preparation to express how disappointed he is at you robbing him of your noises, but you beat him to it, freeing the words that burn at your tongue to knock him off his high-horse. Daryl was never a very confident man, but fuck if it does not make your skin tingle.

“I think she’d tell you to- to shut up.”

The rebuke is futile, a stutter brought on by the push and pull of his deft fingers and he laughs. Daryl chuckles into your skin before everything from him detaches, only for him to grab at your waist and spin you around to face him, adjusting his hold to crowd you once more. Your back hits the ceramic tiles, a sharp whine escaping you at the contrasting cold, and you can see that smirk you had envisioned on his face when you open your eyes, taking in every inch of the swept back hair now falling into his face as he tilts his forehead slowly to yours. Running your non-dominant hand up from his arm to his face, you push the strands back, smiling slightly at the way he melts as his eyelids flutter shut for just a second. As much as he said he hated how damn soft you made him, he sought after your touch, your hands much too intoxicating for him to deny them.

You glow a ring of delicate orange from the lantern shining behind him, the light bouncing off your glistening skin and those sparkling damn eyes that shine with unguarded affection despite your ‘annoyance’ from just moments ago. Creating shadows over your body with his broad figure as he blankets you, Daryl nearly groans with delight at the image - the realization that you look impossibly better with the warm hue making his head spin. And when he remembers that you’re his to love? He tries to hide just how much it makes his mind run, but his voice comes spilling out without much thought, everything about you shrinking the filter between his brain and mouth that he so tenaciously keeps on during the day.

“That so? ‘Cause if I do then I can’t tell ‘er how much I missed her. Or what I was thinkin’ when I thought about ‘er at night.”

Daryl was already so worked up at the thought of doing this to you, you didn’t even need to actually do anything to him to have him throbbing against your stomach, begging to be touched after days of only imagined scenarios to keep him company. So you indulge him, tracing your dominant hand down the V-line of his pelvis and biting your tongue when his hips snap into your grasp, his grip at your waist tightening as he tries to still himself. He wants you to touch him, to let you give him what you want to give him and he tries his damndest to control himself, instead using his words to try and rile you up.

“Nothin’ I do feels as good as her. Nothin’ I’ve tried’s ever been close.”

Your whole body shivers at the insinuation, the ceramic sandwiching you to Daryl ceasing to feel as cold as it did when he first pushed you against it. He feels like centuries have passed when your hand finally wraps around him, running your fingers in a stroke that has him groaning and nearly keeling over you with how much that simple damn action makes heat pool in the pit of his stomach. Everything about this feels heightened, the steam of the shower failing in comparison to the heat pinging between the two of you. His eyes seek yours, cock twitching and catapulting him much farther to his climax than he would like to admit when he sees you watching your grasp, lips parted ever so slightly, pleading with him to lay his on them.

Heart thrumming in his chest, another groan of an expletive followed by your name drops from Daryl before his hips jerk forward, stuttering into your grip with no real rhythm as he pushes a rough kiss onto your mouth. When you let out a little surprised squeal, he pulls himself back immediately, as if shocked by his own lack of self-control, but your hand never stops, and your face leans closer towards his, the feeling of his ruined sounds vibrating along your tongue making you chase him. This must have been how he felt when he had you whimpering for him on those late nights and early mornings. No wonder you both loved them so much.

Twisting your other hand from the side of his neck to his nape, you pull him to you with equal fervor, the stroking of his cock forgotten in favour of his chapped lips turning into something more sinful with each movement of his talented mouth. His fingers begin to wander now, eagerly grasping at the two dimples at your lower back before his palms find all too familiar territory kneading and massaging your ass. Knees nearly buckling, you remember the leaking heaviness twitching in your grip and you nudge him between your thighs, your legs spreading just a bit wider as you inch him closer and closer and closer to where you need it most.

“N-no, wait- I gotta-“

His hands shoot downwards to still yours and he pulls his hips from you, his statement stuttered through a sharp, shaky breath. Whining, you nearly beg for him before you realize he succeeded in what he set out to do - and he was only gone four days, your subconscious chastises. Your head is swimming in desperation for him as you shake it, hair whipping into your face and onto the wall while you vehemently disagree with both his words and your own internal mocking. All coherent thoughts leave your mind, washed away in the stream of water running down your body and you come to the conclusion that you don’t fucking care if he would poke fun at you come morning, you need to feel him.

“Daryl you don’t need to- you can just- I can-“

You don’t need to keep-

You can just-

I can-

God, you sounded pathetic, your voice barely breaking above breathy through the heavy beating of water, and he loves it, it’s enticing him; he could die right now and he would feel nothing but satisfaction. Daryl was never a very confident man - well, with people at least - but around you, he felt wanted. Not just in moments like this when you craved him so debaucherously, but in moments when you would pull close to him while you were sleeping or hug him from the back. Just giving him your affection so freely and not expecting any back. It made his heart damn near break everytime he had to leave. Adjusting his grip on you, he digs his knee into the wall, perching you on either side of him and leaning closer and closer to your burning skin.

“Gotta get ya ready. Jus’- jus’ be a good girl an’ be patient. Don’t want ya limpin’ tomorrow ”

Despite his words, Daryl can’t help but think that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. It wouldn’t be so bad to linger beside you the whole day, a constant reminder of the real reason you needed him to get you things, or why you would grip his arm as a piss poor substitute for a crutch when the two of you walked along the street. Nobody else would know - at least, neither of you would ever tell - but the satisfied puff of his chest and the fact he stands just a little bit prouder might make them connect the dots. That, and the lovebites that creep out from underneath the neckline of your shirt which, coincidentally, only seemed to darken after he came back. Nah, he thinks to himself, it wouldn’t be so damn bad.

“I thought you were tired.”

There’s a hint of concern in your voice, peeking out from between the teasing and he grunts, acknowledging your words before his hands wrap around your wrists and urges them to loop around his neck. He knows he needs to do this, the action a silent beg for you to just relax and let him treat you right in the way you know he always will. With his neck flush in the crooks of your elbows, you tug him, pulling his face to yours and raking your fingers through his wet hair.

“Never too tired for you.”

His stubble scrapes against your nose as he mumbles his confession between kisses down from your forehead, a delicious burn leaving a trail that makes your heart beat impossibly faster between your ribs. Grip falling to your waist, Daryl’s rough fingers inch towards the apex of your thighs, but he moves them so fucking slow you're tempted to just reach down and push them into you like you intended to do with his cock. Before you can entertain the idea any longer, he catches your lips in a clash of tongue and teeth and knowingly smirks against your lips. He’s dedicated, attentive, and what kind of man would have the heart to deny you? He would do anything for you, all you had to do was ask.

Daryl eagerly swallows the moan you let out against his lips when his middle finger curls into you, the vibrations spreading along his tongue and consuming him from the inside out. Your thighs spread wider for him, welcoming him - no, begging him - for more and it riles him up almost comically well. Whether it was intentional or not, he would never know. He pulls his face away just inches, breath heavy against your parted lips before he sends you a small smile, an underlying mischief peeking out from the tiniest sliver of teeth he exposes. Leaning more of his weight onto his knee, his left hand travels around your waist to your ass, digging his dull fingernails into the flesh and pulling towards him, bringing your hips off the cold ceramic and snaking that arm into the curve he’s just created.

Before you can even brace yourself, he pushes a second finger in, curling languid with accelerating speed, revelling in the heat you bring him with an audible groan that reverberates off the shower walls. Already so desperate, the feeling nearly makes your legs shake under your own weight, but Daryl’s prepared - he could keep you up with the hand he has splayed across your upper back and he’s secretly proud of it. His mouth returns to you again, tongue surging to meet yours as if just the taste of your kiss would satisfy his desire to taste what’s beginning to coat down his palm.

It doesn’t, but it’s a damn good substitute.

Nails scratching pathetically at his scalp, your lungs beg for oxygen, but you ignore your body’s pleading for as long as you can. You need Daryl. Just him. Just him. His fingers are ardent, all of them pushing and pulling and toying and touching you in a way that skyrockets you into an overwhelming nirvana and it feels good. It feels so good to be with him again, surrounded by his scent and his heat, that you start to entertain the thought of begging for him. You try to do just that, but every sound coming from your lips is only absorbed greedily by his before you pull him away by his hair, taking large gulps of oxygen as he does the same.

Not even a second passes before you’re grinding down into his palm with pleas falling into the steam of the shower, all your words going straight down to his cock. Gritting his teeth, he growls at your desperation, lips shooting down along your collarbone before catching the skin between teeth. He has your whole body memorized, proof of that fact littered across your body in the form of lovebites, memories seared into your mind of his everything and it’s almost too much to handle. Almost. But you need more. And Daryl knows, much too perceptive in all senses of the word.

His left arm snakes up to your neck, the nape of it secured in a grip firm enough to pull your hips down onto his muscular thigh, spreading you and rubbing that sensitive bundle of nerves with his rough skin. Something between a swear and Daryl’s name chokes through your throat and he curls his two fingers just enough for you to repeat the sound, the movement perhaps pulling your hips forwards toward him. With the way you grind down so readily on him, it wasn’t easy to tell whether the roll of your lower body was from his fingers or the lust running through your veins. A satisfied smirk worms its way onto his face that you want to kiss off, but your head is stuck against the ceramic tiling by his hand tugging securely on your hair. Not enough to hurt you. Never enough to hurt you.

He can feel it now, the fact that you’re close, and it only makes him work harder. Maybe it was selfish of him, expediting your pleasure so he can finally seek out his, but he’s damn near shaking with the thought of finally being able to be with you in one of the ways he always wants to be. Sometimes Daryl felt like a teenager with all this certain enthusiasm he can’t seem to control with you around, but you had never complained - you made him feel alive in all the best ways - and he thanked whoever was pulling the strings in his favour for bringing him to you. Circling his thigh, he pushes everything he can up into you, the pressure making you feel like you’re floating. Fingers carding through his hair, your whole body tightens around him in a silent plea, and he's pretty sure he would have to be just about the biggest idiot in existence to ever deny you.

“Give it to me. C’mon, give it to me. Ya wanted my cock didn’t ya? Jus’ give it to me an’ I’ll make ya feel even better.”

Give it to me.

Give it to me.

Give it to me.

Daryl’s voice makes your mind swim, the growl rough and dangerous like everyone always tends to think he is, and incoherence drops from your lips, echoing against the confines of the walls as his breath fans your ear. Rutting your hips up to his hand, the knot in your abdomen snaps, the proclamation of it escaping you in a broken moan of his name. He can feel your body’s reactions before you start to get those familiar sparking waves of pleasure, the clench of you around him growing sporadic as he continues to unravel you with his teeth gritted, the unrelenting precision of his fingers sending you clawing and tugging at his scalp with no regard of your strength for just a moment.

His groan at the sensations edges out the haze of your climax and you immediately detach from him, pulling your body back from his so abruptly that he slips from you. Scrunching his nose in disappointment, his large hands cling at the back of your thighs, bringing your chest and forehead to his as if he couldn’t stand being apart from you for even just a few seconds.

“Sorry- sorry if that hurt I didn’t mean to-”

Face inches from yours, he shakes his head and cuts you off with a series of hungry pecks. One to your sinfully soft lips, then to the corner of your mouth, then one to your jawbone, devouring your apology right then and there as he overtakes your senses.

“‘S alright. It felt good.”

Then he kisses you again, urgent all the same, but he only pushes a firm brush of his mouth against yours. The movement is like a signature, as if it were his name scribbled easily along at the bottom of a letter - a soft possession that you wear along the tingles of your lips. It makes you claw at him again, tugging on the sides of his hips to pull him flush against you, fingernails digging crescent shapes he wants to see come morning, and your apprehension all but dissolves into the hot water of the shower. You were his, he was yours and in his mind, there was nothing he wanted more than for you to show him just what he does to you.

“Anythin’ ya do feels good.”

It’s stupid, how you could be in the middle of something so intimate and a simple compliment from him could leave you flushed from the neck upwards, but he loves it. He loves the little whimper you let out at his words and he smiles that lopsided boyish grin that makes your heart skip a beat. When he smiles at you like that, it makes you feel like the only person in the entire world. No walkers, no Alexandrians, no runs or patients at the infirmary to steal you or him away from the other. There was no one except you and Daryl - and it’s been too damn long since it was like this.

Body flush against yours, he snakes a hand down between his legs and the other grips at your thigh, hooking it around his torso and begging with a roll of his hips for you to rest your leg there. Each breath he takes sends a jolt of pleasure blossoming against your ribs, his skin rubbing against your chest so deliciously it makes your mouth fall open in silent pants of air. You don’t know when you closed your eyes, but they open when Daryl says your name, broken by a curse that falls somewhere after the first letter. He looks good like this - eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched.

Gritting his teeth, his mouth can barely form a coherent sentence with how much excitement is coursing through him, and he’s trying his fucking best to hold back from slamming into you until you give him a nod or a pull or anything, but then something in him breaks. The feeling of just having you so damn close worms its way into his brain and he takes himself in his fist, dragging along to gather the remnants of your climax and notches himself, all the while groaning from the heat emanating off you.

“‘S this okay? Need t’know if this’s okay.”

Slurred speech. It was so uncharacteristic of the Daryl everyone else knew - the Daryl who was so sure of himself, the Daryl who wore a permanent scowl on his face, the Daryl who was so mysterious, never speaking anything above a growl - and you think you could have laughed had it not been for the fact the words themselves dig up memories of all the times he had said them to you before. Every cell in your body lights up, high alert now that he’s in you, but he’s not moving. He’s not inching into you or filling you in the only way he can and you push your hips towards him, greedy movements making you swallow more of him. Taking a sharp breath, he lets you rut against him, but still, he doesn’t fucking move.

“God, Daryl- yes. Yes, it’s okay. More- more than okay.”

Sometimes you hated him, and then hated how stupid you felt for hating him.

He waits for your words. He always does. Without fail he checks on you before he slides into you. He never wants to take because he always wants to be good for you, but sometimes you wish he would. Sometimes you wish he would just take from you - take everything you have. There is nothing in this world that is not shared between the two of you. Daryl’s wholly yours as you are wholly his.

Curses drop from his lips, your name thrown in once or twice as if he’s reminding himself you’re real as he feels you around him. They fly out of his mouth like the bolts from his crossbow and ricochet off every wall as he begins to move, slow at first, experimental maybe with his hand secure against your thigh, then he starts building and building into a heavy, sinful rhythm. Shakily, Daryl groans, the breath he lets out tendrilling at your chin before he sucks frantically at your bottom lip, your noises meeting his as they hit the ceramic wall.

He wants to live in this moment forever; immortalize the way you look and sound on one of those VHSes, write the damn date on it, and hide it away for his and your eyes only so it’s rewatchable and revisitable and reliveable. It's not enough to just sear you into his memory like he’s done so many times before because you’re damn near perfect. Like you were made for him - for him to give you everything he wants to give to you.

“Fuck- fuck- you feel better’n I remembered. How’s‘at possible?”

The words escape him, rushing out as if you’ve put a spell on him, and they almost escape you, too, your pulse beating in your ears. But he’s so close to you, growling out through gritted teeth into your ear and pushing his lips to the curve of your jawbone like they need to be on your skin. He pulls his body away, chest leaving yours, and you pull at his waist to bring him back, whining lewd for him and only him, shameless and betraying the blush you feel as you register his stutters, but he doesn’t. Instead, Daryl smiles, that same damn grin with his teeth hooked along his bottom lip and eyes hooded as he watches every change in expression. You groan, half in the way he rolls his pelvis just enough to rub against that small bundle of nerves that beg for him, and half in annoyance at the way that lascivious expression seems to make every electron in you buzz.

“Shut- shut up.”

He lets out a sharp breath, a singular amused ‘ha’ following it, cock hardening and twitching even more at the fact he’s making you blush like that first night he had lavished every inch of your body with his lips - like you didn’t deserve every single damn word escaping from him. Leaning his weight against his left forearm that lies on the side of your head, Daryl brings his face to yours, nipping at your lips and seeking your tongue before he starts speaking.

“You should see yourself like this, y’know. Fuckin’ perfect for me.”

For a man who only ever growls and mutters, he certainly liked to talk a lot when he was pounding into you the way only he knows how and you’re just so damn unbelievable for him. For him. You’re his to love and it sparks something within in him that makes his tongue fucking run and his hips speed up involuntarily. Hell, you probably heard more of his voice in this shower tryst than the whole first nightwatch you had with him. You’re not even sure the water is beating down onto you anymore because the heat of your body makes the shower pale in comparison.

The sweat accumulating on his back and chest and everywhere is washed away almost immediately as it forms and you’re grasping for something to hold onto. Clawing, you wrap both your arms under and around his shoulders and scratch desperately at his back, grinding up against him and making jumbled noises of moans and Daryl’s name when he drags against that spot he knows so well. It’s skin on skin, the ceramic wall ceasing to feel cold as you screw your eyes shut and let yourself mount and mount with each roll of his hips. You hear a nearly feral growl, feeling your leg being hiked up higher by the elbow hooked underneath your thigh, and a loud noise breaks from your throat when his thumb swipes where his cock meets you.

“C’mon, we ain’t got all night.”

You’re close and he knows it. It was like he was rubbing it in your face, the fact he could make you like this - how quickly he could reduce you into the incoherent, ruined state you always seemed to become for him. Attentive. He’s always attentive. You can tell by the way he’s memorized everything that makes you shake and capitalizes on them, thrusts coupled with the tight circles pulling you closer and closer to that precipice of pleasure, but he says those words anyways, hoping to get a reaction from you. Daryl’s not an impatient lover - he would spend hours buried in you if you let him - but he’s so damn close and perhaps almost selfishly, he wants to watch you succumb first. He wants to watch the water race down your body as you writhe for him against the wall, and he wants that to send him over the edge.

“Then- then do better, Daryl.”

You bite back, your breath grazing against his neck and a wet heat rushes through him, making him groan nearly wrecked as his hair tickles your cheek. Reaching behind his muscular body to his shoulder blades, one of his large hands is more than enough to wrap around both of your wrists and he takes them in his grasp, moving them until they’re secure against the ceramic wall behind you. You’re warm for him. Pliable for him despite the veil of distaste in your voice and he can’t get enough of it.

Daryl’s so fucking happy you bite back.

His hips stop and you let out an almost childish cry, but he stays buried deep, filling you up to the brim as the water beats down on the both of you and holding you against the tiles by the weight he’s pressing from where you meld to him. His face is so close to your ear now. So much so that you can feel the breath when he speaks, a dangerous growl resounding through your body before his teeth graze along your neck.

“Hm? I ain’t never heard a complaint from you be- before. That a- fuck- are ya challengin’ me?”

An expletive drops from Daryl’s lips when you clench around him, no doubt from the sudden crash of your mounting pleasure, and he pushes impossibly further into you, firmly pinning you down until he knows you won’t be able to move anymore. He wants to show you he can stop at any moment, that he can make you work for it, but you both know he’ll give in. Maybe you didn’t know the extent of which you have him wrapped around your finger, but if you even knew half of it, you would know he would never stop. Not when he was so desperate for you he can barely think of anything except the way you look and feel. At least, not unless you wanted him to.

“Are you g-gonna take it up?”

Although your mouth ceases there, your brain runs, pleas tickling at the tip of your tongue, but you can barely manage to form the meager few syllables that have already escaped you. Eyebrows knotted at your forehead, you try desperately to coax more movement from him - a whine, a whimper, a thrash of your pinned hands flattened by his strong grip - but Daryl’s so damn still and it’s driving you crazy. When your body settles for only ragged breathing and shaking thighs, he takes it as his cue to lean down, lips brushing yours in a kiss that’s so affectionate you forget that, just moments ago, he was relentlessly pounding into you.

“Don’t know. Seems like you might be wantin’ it more’n me.”

Smiling against your mouth, he pulls away just enough to speak. A challenge in his words so obvious to you that you try in vain to buck your hips to his. If he didn’t sound so good and look so good and feel so damn good, you would have denied it, but you’re strung so taut, so close to the peak, that you can barely form a retort. A stupid, handsome smirk rests on his lips as he waits. Patient. Like it wasn’t affecting him, being buried in you. He’s just waiting for your words - goading you as he watches from underneath his lashes.

“Daryl, I swear to God if you stop right-“

The insincere threat is enough to spur him into action. Partly due to the fact you sound so desperate and ruined for him, and partly because he just needs to feel you again - he would lay you down and take you the way you deserved on the bed come morning, but right now was a different matter entirely. Swearing, his smirk drops in favour of a scowl, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he snaps up into you in quick succession. The hand at your thigh is roaming now, massaging and palming wherever his nimble fingers can worm their way onto before it splays across your ass, using the grip to pull your body impossibly closer to his. Daryl would have made you beg for him - he wanted to - but he can’t stop himself. Not when you look so pretty up against the wall and you’re taking his cock so well.

“Been gone four days an’ you’re already so damn needy.”

Whether that statement was directed at you or himself, you would never know.

An abashed whimper escapes through you and you want to deny it, perhaps just to see what would happen, but you can’t. You can’t because Daryl’s right. He knows he is, and you know he is. You thrash your arms so you can touch him, feel his skin underneath your fingers, but his grip around your wrists keeps you firm against the ceramic tiling - just enough to keep you pinned so he can admire the way you squirm for him. Grunts and groans of your name escape from him with each thrust, the feeling of your body melded to his much too intoxicating for him to keep his mouth shut.

“What, you embarrassed now? Wanna cover your mouth? Keep them noises from me when you’re soundin’ so damn pretty? Ya better not be thinkin’ about it. ‘Cause ya damn well ain’t gotta.”

Daryl tilts his head, eyes squinting in faux-concern and mocking you as his hips relentlessly hit up into yours, pushing out the breath from your lungs which escape in tantalizing gasps with each roll. You’re so close, and the only thing you can do is moan at the sound of his rough voice, the coil tightening in your abdomen because of his determined thrusts. You just need a little more - just a little more - and he reads you like a book.

Without warning, the hand pinning your wrists frees itself, his finger pinpointing back between your thighs with an unadulterated eagerness to pull your climax from you and you damn near cry out Daryl’s name as you claw at his back. It’s like second nature to him, the way he can touch you and make you crumble for him. Practice does make perfect, and he’s always been a persistent man.

“Ya sure as hell weren’t when you were bein’ a brat.”

Everything he’s doing to you is almost effortless. It makes your legs shake and without warning, your thighs tense up, a white hot surge of pleasure erupting from the base of your stomach and you gasp a broken moan of Daryl’s name as you clutch at his neck in an effort to keep yourself from collapsing onto him. He holds you close, chest pushed up to yours and breathing ruined into your ear as he works you through your climax with dextrous fingers, chasing his own as his rhythm begins to falter. Sporadic thrusts meet each flutter of your clenching warmth. until he can’t hold out anymore.

Screwing his eyes shut, a stuttered chanting of profanities mixed in perfectly with pleads of your name fan out from his mouth and he pulls out, rubbing himself harsh against your thigh before your fingers wrap around his cock. Fuck, Daryl nearly crumbles right then and there, a ragged groan rushing from him before his hips jerk upwards to your touch - nothing could even compare to it and he thinks nothing could ever come close. Nothing except you. Pulsing in your grasp, both of his rough hands dig into either of your thighs and he stills, teeth gritted as the evidence of his pleasure hits your stomach before being washed away in the steady stream of water.

Satisfied, you smile and lean towards him, your head coming off the ceramic wall, and he parts his lips immediately for your tongue, but you pull away after giving him a quick peck. Scrunching his nose, Daryl pats lightly at your thigh for your attention and seeks your lips once more, moving his with the same amount of overwhelming love and affection he always does. It makes you feel warm inside, like you were the only one in the world for him. And you were. At least, in his mind you were.

He releases the grip he has on your thigh and slowly lowers it, his hand still ghosting close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off his body. Both legs still shaking slightly, your foot hits the floor of the shower and you lean your weight on it, tentative and experimentally at first before you overestimate its security and half-fall-half-stumble into him. Daryl notices, of course he does, and he swallows down the pride welling in his chest as his sure grasp steadies you against his body.  

“Hey, hey, I got ya. Jus’- jus’- I got ya.”

By instinct, he speaks, the rumble of his chest against yours making your heart well up with the familiar fondness you always experience when it comes to him. Daryl wasn’t a man of many words even though you had managed to break him out of his shell a little - at least with you - but there was no doubt in your mind that he genuinely and wholeheartedly cared about you. In his eyes, you had strung the stars into the sky and he always treated you with a softness he never thought himself capable of.

With one hand on his waist and one on his shoulder, you use Daryl as a crutch, continuing to lean your weight on your legs until they cease to shake. When you can stand on your own, albeit with wobbly legs, you link your fingers in both of his and meet his protective gaze - alert as if prepared to catch you again if your body gave any type of signal. He smiles when he sees the expression on your face and brings your knuckles to his lips, pressing a firm kiss onto the back of each of your hands before letting go and reaching for the bar of soap you two had ignored in exchange for something more riveting.

“Here, let me- I’ll help ya wash up.”

It meets your shoulder and it’s cold as he trails it down, lathering your right arm before moving across your chest and to your left. Smiling at his concern, you hum, nodding your head and content at the feeling of his tenderness as he continues to dutifully run the suds down along your body. Daryl unabashedly goes about copping a feel or two when his hand just so happens to fall onto your chest or your ass, a boyish grin meeting your quirked eyebrow when you question his intentions with a look. If you actually, truly cared to ask him, he would say he was helping you wash your body and making sure he was doing it to the best of his ability - quality assurance or some shit like that.

He helps you lather, too, calloused fingers rubbing off dead skin much better than yours could as he focuses the showerhead on him. You laugh when he pulls you into him, water streaming down your body along with his hands as the bubbles wash off your body and you run the bar of soap along the broad expanse of his shoulders, doing your fair share of subtle… touching too. Daryl all but melts into your caring hands, revelling in the way your attention is solely focused on him before he grunts, as if signalling you to look at him. When you do, his hands loop around your waist, head tilted to one side as he gingerly rubs those little shapes he always love to draw onto your skin.

“Y’alright? Was, uh, was that alright, I mean.”

Allowing you to maneuver him under the shower, he begrudgingly lets go of you to rinse off all the soap and feels genuinely clean for the first time in what felt like days. Smiling, you respond, saluting playfully and laying a small peck onto the corner of his lips before you spin around, pulling the curtain open just enough to reach for the towel lying just a few inches away on the towel rack but still keeping the warmth from the water in.  

“Yes, sir!”

His cock twitches at the name, betraying the slur of fatigue in his voice and he sighs at himself, turning the shower knob off and opening the curtain fully, reaching for his own towel that hangs next to yours. He always did feel like a teenager when it came to you, and usually he didn’t mind it, but he really was tired before this and his back is killing him, so maybe another time.

Drying your body, you turn your head towards him and smile before making quick work of your wet hair and stepping out, pulling your underwear on from where you left it on the bathroom counter. It’s a small smile, one fully innocent and only ever reserved for him, but that look makes your words replay in his mind. A shudder runs through him as he tries to ease a smile onto his face too, admiring the scene of you for a moment. It’s domesticity, showing him a homelife he could actually feel loved and safe in; reminding Daryl something like that actually existed for him.

He imagines meeting you in a different world, wooing you like you deserved through coffee dates and Radiohead concerts, not through killing reanimated corpses or guarding Alexandria’s walls together, and his whole body calms down.

But then you pull on a shirt that’s much too big for you - one of his shirts that you said you liked wearing because it smelled like him - and he swallows his spit as if he hadn’t seen you naked just moments ago, a familiar shudder running through him again. Definitely another time. Near future, preferably.

Hopefully.

“You coming?”

Your voice breaks Daryl out of his daydream and he grunts an answer, smirking at the joke that just popped into his head as he replies with a curt ‘I just did’ and catches the pair of boxers you throw at him in response. Rolling your eyes, you comb your fingers through your hair and try to dry it as much as you can with the towel before reaching for your toothbrush. He follows suit, dressed in only his boxers as he brushes his teeth and shakes his wet hair at you like a dog, causing you to whip water at him off your fingertips after you wash off the excess toothpaste dribbling at the corners of your mouth. Smiling internally, he spits, tasting mint on his tongue that he'd much rather replace with the taste of your lips, even though he knows full well you’re just as minty as he is.

“Thank you.”

Meeting his eye in the mirror, you give him a confused look, eyebrows raised in an expression he thought was much too cute on your face for your own good. Your hands don’t still as you continue to rub out the water in your hair, determined not to go to bed with it too wet and risking it to clump up and dry tangled.

“For lettin’ me, uh, do that.”

His naturally gravelly voice clears up, turning slightly more timid than you were used to and you notice the shift in his behaviour. He avoids your gaze, waiting for your response as he fiddles with the lantern he now has in his grasp, unsure of what you would say and you decide your hair is dry enough. Hanging your towel back onto the rack next to his, you grab his free hand and lead the two of you back towards the bed, smiling affectionately as you turn off the lightsource and place it onto the nightstand. Wide-eyed, Daryl stares at you, as if waiting for you to tell him to leave - that you hated what he had done - but you break him from that train of thought as you slip under the covers and welcome him to join you.

Relief washes over him and he happily climbs in, groaning at the feeling of your body next to his and he succumbs to the comfort of the mattress. Pushing yourself into his side, his arms automatically open for you and he swears he could cry when you brush your thumb against his cheekbone and lean up to him.

“Anything for you.”

He feels the words as you whisper them just inches away from his lips, and he relishes in them when you pull away from the quick peck and dig your face into your pillow, closing your eyes and just looking so at peace. You’re so close to him Daryl’s in awe and he can’t help but stare. Wanting to hold onto the feeling of his skin a little longer, your finger draws a little heart over where his beats in his chest and you speak again, voice so warm and sincere.

“I’m glad you’re home.”

Home. That’s what it is to him now, too.

“Glad ‘m home too.”

With a final kiss laid on your forehead, Daryl echoes your statement and pulls your body closer into his. A small smile tugs at his lips and his arm slings lazily at your waist before he, too, closes his eyes, allowing himself to fall into the lull of sleep.

It was good to be back.

Back to a home he had made with you.

──── ⋙ 

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[alreadyblondenow]

A not so Cinderella story

“I’m the only one in this room that knows you don’t have panties underneath this beautiful dress”

Pairing: football play! Jeno Lee x female cheerleader! reader

Genre: SMUT, FLUFF, enemies to lovers

WC: 4,507k

Warnings: mentions of food, as requested the reader here is a cheerleader so the character is fit. Please dont come at me. Public oral sex (female receiving) (inside school classroom), swearing, unprotected sex, mentions of rough sex, the sex was just inspired by Diggity Jeno hahaha, a lot of cliché moments here, mentions of bruises and dislocated bones (bc athletes) NOTHING DESCRIPTIVE IT WAS JUST MENTIONED

A/N: NOT PROOFREAD. I’ll fix it once I get my internet connection back. Part of Request Party. Also Jeno has been wrecking me lately.

—————

Peanut butter and jelly. That’s the perfect way to describe you and Lee Jeno.

The famous sandwich is known with its unbalancing tastes of flavors where the tastes of peanut butter and jam always fights in your mouth, but that’s what makes it so delicious. Something so unfit, unbalanced, contradicts, but still they’re better together. And just like the sandwich, you and Jeno are two different mixing flavors.

As the captain of the football team, and you as the captain of the squad, people around you expect that you ‘mix’ well with each other to the point that they expect you to be dating by this time.

“Nope. Not gonna happen. I hate him, he hates me. Let’s just accept that,” you whine to your friends as they ask you to take Jeno as your date for the dance this weekend. “It’s an exciting masquerade party, please let me enjoy my night without that dick ruining it,”

“And speaking of Jeno’s dick. Look at the size of that... Mmm,” one of your friends said and pointed to the side of the field where the football team are practicing and Lee Jeno’s shorts are just... so thin that his big dick is obvious.

“RIP to that pussy he’s fucking after dance...” another one comments.

“Okay, continue your drooling after practice. I need your full attention now. Let’s go! Move your asses!”

And just like that the captain in you is out in no time, earning respect from your friends and even impressing the guys from the football team. Of course everyone admired your leadership, skills and well... hot body. That’s why Jeno’s focus is nowhere to found the moment he heard you shouting from across the field and seeing your nice ass and-

“You can always say that you like her,” Jaemin disturbs Jeno’s thoughts with heavy breathing, sweating handsomely and waving at the students who calls him.

“Yeah, It’s not that simple,” Jeno said.

“Psh. Of course it is. HEY Y/N!!!! JENO SAYS YOU’RE SEXY!”

Jeno’s eyes went big and tried stopping Jaemin but its too late. You heard him already. Everyone, heard him.

“Stop staring at my ass Jeno, go back to practice” you said sternly and rolled your eyes at him. That was hot, Jeno thought.

You see, just like peanut butter and Jelly, you’re two different amazing beings. Each has unique personalities and charm, but you can’t see the good things in Jeno because you’re always blinded by his cocky attitude. But for Jeno, whenever you’re mad at him, annoyed to the core or whenever you talk back at him, he always finds it sexy. Until one day he fell for you, by just looking at you long and hard one perfect afternoon at the cafeteria while you’re busy reading something.

As the school dance commence and everyone had unique masks on their faces tonight, to be honest you quite enjoy it because somehow you feel invisible. You don’t feel popular and people are just so comfortable with talking to you, not knowing that you’re Y/n. And the only people who knew it was you was of course your friends, and you are having a great time.

“She’s the one wearing a white ball gown,” Jaemin whispers to Jeno under the loud party music and howling teenagers, “you owe me captain, it’s not that easy to make her friends talk,”

“Psh. Of course it is, you’re Na Jaemin,” Jeno pats his friend’s shoulder as a thanks and walked towards you with a smile in his face. Confident that you won’t shoo him away because you don’t know that he’s Jeno.

“Looks like I found my princess,” he said with all his might. Looking so handsome and perfect even with his mask on. You can’t help but accept the compliment and flirt back. So you turned towards him, flashing a big and excited smile and so thrilled that someone finally had the guts to call you princess.

“I thought you’d never show up! Now, dance with me!” you reached for his hand and the masked prince immediately twirled you.

Everything was suddenly beyond perfect that you felt like every second was a beautiful well written scene in a fairytale book.

It’s the way he holds you while dancing, telling you the right words that goes straight to your heart and immediately give you a smile. A kind of smile that only the right person can give you. But of course, you don’t know that yet.

As the night became even more perfect for the two of you, not knowing each other’s names just makes everything more thrilling and interesting but you promised to each other to stay true to each other when the clock strikes midnight and everyone has to take off their masks.

And to maximize the fun, you and Jeno ended up making out in one of the empty classrooms while everyone is busy dancing and enjoying the program. And by the way, it was a passionate kiss, not like those innocent kissing-a-stranger type of kiss that you see in movies. You both didn’t care at that moment whether you know each other or not.

“Fuck- I have to go back before midnight, I kind of... have an important duty during the event,” you said. Careful not to tell him that the captain of the cheerleading squad is needed to crown the voted prom queen.

“Understood,” Jeno says because he is the one crowning the voted prom king. “Does your lips always tastes sweet?” he asked with a very sexy tone, lifting you effortlessly with his incredible strength and making you sit on the desk. He reaches dow to your dress and went under it, completely startling you with the way he holds your thighs and kiss your knee, inner thighs, until he reaches your clothed pussy. Kissing the wet center and drownig with the feeling of his tongue shamelessly ruining your panties.

Bravely, Jeno removed your panties without breaking the soft kisses he’s giving you, putting your panties straight in his pocket for safe keeping and to make sure that you have no choice but to go back to him after midnight.

“Oh fuck-“ you moaned softly, covering your own mouth while the man in between your legs is giving you kitten licks on your pussy but intensifying everything when he spread your folds and focused on your clit. Licking it fast and kissing it like it it was your lips. It was unbearable, and this time two hands are covering your mouth to muffle you moans because you knew that what you’re doing right now can jeopardize your cheerleading career.

“Close- ooh, fuck. Right there please, faster. Ahh!”

You don’t know but Jeno is smiling right now, happy and contented that he get to do this with you. And in a matter of seconds, your legs are shaking and wanting to be closed so bad, but Jeno is giving you oral like he had never licked a pussy in a year and stopped your legs from closing to torture you further with his tongue.

Then suddenly, you heard your name being called and you made Jeno stop and quickly went down from the desks with weak legs, not having any other choice but to face everyone even after having a nice orgasm just a few minutes earlier.

You feel sorry for your prince of course because you literally kicked him and bolted away without any other words, not even a smile.

“Sorry I’m late, I was in the comfort room handling my tummy ache,” you cleared your throat and did what you had to do. A few minutes later, Jeno is now crowing the voted prom king and you didn’t bother looking at him because you knew he will look so handsome tonight. So you just stood there in the corner of the stage focusing on your weak legs, and feel Jeno stood beside you afterwards. Watching the the prom king and queen dance at the corner, both with tired smile and hearts yearning to be with each other again, suddenly Jeno spoke to you.

“I’m the only one in this room that knows you don’t have panties underneath this beautiful dress” he whispered beside you with a small smirk that only you can notice.

And the moment you lift your head to face him, you see you le prince.

Jeno is your prince. The prince who just gave you a mind blowing orgasm just a few minutes back.

“Lee Jeno- what the fuck. What have you done,” you said quietly, trying to control your reactions in front of the entire school.

“Date me and I’ll give it back to you”

“No thanks, you can keep it- just please dont tell anyone what happened to us.”

And just like that both of your happy endings are cancelled for the night. He felt broken, you felt guilty. But he can’t just finish this night without a fight.

“Fine. At least let me drive you home” he said bitterly.

“Fine”

The drive was quiet as expected. No one saw you get inside Jeno’s car, you made sure of it. To be honest you wanted to apologize to him for the kick earlier, but you figured it will make everything even more awkward. So forget it.

When he had finally pulled in front of your house, neither of you started moving as if you didn’t want this night to end badly than it already is.

“I had a great time...” you started, hoping that it’s okay to even say ‘thank you’

“Can’t you see that I’m trying my best here?” he said and it turned quiet again, “I like you Y/n,”

“Are you sure?” Are the only words that came out from you.

“A hundred percent sure. If you don’t let me date you even just for a short period of time to prove my feelings to you... I might cry while driving home,”

“And that’s fucking dangerous. Okay okay,” you were panicking at this moment “I accept your offer. Please, just drive safe. You’re making me nervous,”

Jeno smiled from ear to ear upon hearing your decision. Even though you didn’t actually accepted his offer because you wanted to date him too,it’s fine. Jeno is willing to work hard for you.

Day after day Jeno ask you if you’re free for the most awaited date but you try so hard to avoid him. It was not easy to hide your ‘relationship’ and to be honest it’s starting to annoy you.

One awful day after practice, it was the weekend and only the squad and the football team is in campus for practice. It was a tough and ugly day, so you decided to wait for everyone to finish showering before you start cleaning yourself.

The water was nice and the warm feeling of the showers just relaxes you to the max and enjoy the running water. You take this opportunity to sort out your thoughts...but someone disturbed your peace again.

You feel him hold you by the waist and encircle his arms around it, head rests by the crook of your neck and even by just feeling his embrace, you knew that Jeno is tired too. That he had a bad day too and you didn’t want to make things worst for the both of you.

“The door was open, I locked it for you” he said quietly. The tiredness was even obvious through the way he speaks.

And knowing that Jeno is using you to comfort himself, you just let him do what he wants as a way to give back to the comfort and company that he’s giving you now.

Wet kisses were place on your shoulder and neck, his strong arms kept you close to him until your ass is so close to his cock that it’s poking your ass cheeks but you just let it be. To be honest you love the feeling of what’s happening now, you feel so close to Jeno just like the night during the dance.

You turned around to face him, only to find his face full of dirt from practice, exhausted expression and silence. He was never silent when he’s around you, and that’s how you confirmed that it was indeed a bad day.

“Want to talk about it?” You offered and Jeno just rests his forehead on yours, letting the water run through your naked bodies. Hands all over each other, no funny business just providing comfort. You took initiative to clean his face with your soap and pour shampoo on his hair, washing it gently as he lets you do what you want.

And finally, you see a hint of smile from his face and you cant help but to smile back.

You didn’t do anything stupid in the showers with Jeno, you just literally had shower with him while he keeps you close but it felt that you did something so intimate together. Like a couple who passionately had sex in bed.

After cleaning yourselves Jeno reached for your towel and wrapped you nicely, looking at your boobs without feeling ashamed because you’re looking at his cock too. If it was a normal day, you’d have sex right then and there, but you both don’t want it as of the moment.

“Wait here don’t get dressed yet,” he said when you’re back in the locker rooms.

And when he came back still wearing a towel wrapped around his waist, he dropped on bended knee as if he’s going to propose. But instead of reaching for your hand he reached for your leg, and made you wear the underwear that he took from you during the dance. “I washed it myself,” he said and placed a quick soft kiss on your waist before he gets up.

It was a sweet gesture. Not normal, but it was sweet and you liked it. He got up, turned his back and left you to finish putting your clothes. You wonder if he’ll wait for you outside because truth be told you don’t want this to end yet.

After you finish drying your hair and making yourself decent again, hoping that someone is waiting for you outside already. You saw Jeno waiting for you outside the school beside his car, looking so handsome on fresh new clothes with the cutest smile. Of course he waited.

“How was your day?” he finally asked you.

“Bad,” you answered and took a big bite on your hotdog sandwich. “I pushed my team so hard today that everyone just hated me during practice,”

“Same thing happened to me, me and Haechan almost got into a fight in the middle of practice earlier. I guess this what happens when we don’t practice at the same place,” he joked but his intentions were cute. “I’m not sure if were going to win this season. If we don’t, I would have to wave goodbye to my dream college”

“Jeno, we’re aiming at the same college, and knowing what they look for an athlete, it’s impossible that you won’t get scouted. I mean, you’re the reason why we keep winning. College football is no joke, so hang in there just do your best”

“College cheerleading is no joke either, you have to get in for me. I’m not taking cheers from a stranger it had to be you,” he made you giggle and let out small laughs that echoes around his car. You just nod at him and wiped the ketchup from his lips.

“Thank you and I’m sorry I’m always an asshole when it comes to you,” you said perfectly ruining the mood but Jeno did not let that happen.

“And for someone who used to hate each other, we sure are better when we work together,” he said, leaning closer to you for a kiss that you didn’t avoid. “Watch me win you fair and square,”

You smiled at what he said and returned the kiss to shut him up. And the next thing you know, you’re making out with Lee Jeno in his car in the middle of an empty fast food parking lot.

“You’re the first boy I ever kissed, Jeno, and I want you to be the last.... I mean you’re the first sincere kiss-“

“I get it, I get it,” he said and continue kissing you again.

After that fateful day, you’ve been each other’s rocks and support system. Meeting under the bleachers, showering last so you could shower in peace together after every weekend practice, and have secret dates whenever you want to. It was a beautiful time even though you’re not yet officially together. And that proper date he was meaning to give you, finally happened and you feel bad for avoiding this amazing moment to happen.

“Okay, I think we should stop” Jeno cut the kiss when you’re both getting too carried away. Knowing that his parents are away and you have the house all for yourselves just makes everything even more dangerous now. But instead of stopping you pushed him on his bed and went on top of him. Putting both of your legs on each of his sides and earning a cute giggle from him. “Alright, if this is what you wanted”

Jeno then traded places with you, putting you beneath him effortlessly and kissing every exposed skin he sees while slowly lifting your shirt and unclasping your bra effortlessly. Cupping your boobs and kneading them gently while he makes you crazy with his touch and the way his tongue swipes on your lips and dominates the kiss with that powerful tongue.

When he removed his shirt, you expected to see a very hot body, a perfectly sculpted abs, and his strong arms. You were prepared to see that. What you didn’t expect to see were the scars and bruises he got from practice and from his past games.

“Hey, don’t mind the scars. They don’t hurt anymore,” he reached for your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours. Even though his body was all ruined like this, he looks so happy in life and this current moment. You then realized that Jeno is more than football and his cocky attitude. He’s a man who loves the game and is willing to do everything for his dream.

And that.... fucking turned you on that you attacked him with kisses and quickly removed your pants, Jeno did the same with quick movements until you’re both wearing only your underwear and ready to do it for the first time. He was the first one to remove his boxers briefs and thats the time when you remember how your friends drooled over Jeno’s big dick. It was true.

And that’s going inside you. Every inch of that veiny, thick cock of Jeno.

He removed your panties next, kissing your legs as he swiftly pull it down you thighs and expose your pussy to him. Whispering sweet words, comforting and filthy ones to balance this beautiful moment. You smiled when he pulled away from kissing you and finally lining his cock to your entrance.

Pumping his cock in between your opened legs and in front of your wet pussy, he started to tease you with the tip of his thick cock. Up and down, Jeno made you feel how raw he’s going to fuck you tonight. He started kissing and touching your body, slowly pushing in your tight hole and stealing your breath away, making you breath so heavily and grip his strong shoulders as he oh so slowly put his entire cock inside you.

“Does it feel nice?” You struggled talking but you managed to let out decent words. He nodded and rolled his hips, making you both moan and hold each other tightly. That’s how nice Jeno feels around you.

He gave you a few gentle thrust, stretching you good so won’t get hurt when he starts fucking you hard. You watch his cock go in and out of your pussy, and you can’t help but feel proud that it fits perfectly. “I love seeing your smile,” he said when he caught you smiling. He kisses the top of your breast, softly and just making you feel crazy with his soft lips around your nipples. Suck it good and twirling his hot tongue around it until your nipples are hard and swollen.

You didn’t notice that he has been fucking and giving you harder and faster thrust that his bed is starting to creak so bad and your bodies are slightly bouncing from the mattress. The pleasure was so nice especially its you that he’s fucking now, that his mind just went blank and started kissing your breast wildly which made you part your lips and furrow your brows. You then reached for him because you can’t take the pleasure anymore and made him kiss your lips instead.

But just as you thought that the he will go slow, no. When his chest hit your breast, and you’re now bodies to bodies that he’s putting his entire weight on top of you, Jeno became wild again and pinned your legs on the mattress and started fucking you hard.

Thrust and thrust you feel the impact on every inch of your body, and feeling the sting and hurt on your cunt as he continues to fuck you so good and the pleasure did not stopped from there. He lifted your left leg, using your flexibility wisely and placing your leg on his shoulders, earning a kiss on your leg when he saw that you got excited with the new position.

Jeno went back to fucking you again, putting his left thumb on your clit to draw small circles while his other hand is holding your leg safely as he fucks you good again.

“Jeno- ahh! Fuck, not on the pill” you informed him with heavy breaths and delicious groans. Gripping his sheets tightly as you slowly feel your orgasm build up and made your toes curl. Pushing Jeno away and closing your legs immediately so could curl in a ball and enjoy your orgasm. You didn’t noticed that he came on your body the moment he pulled out, painting your skin with his hot and thick cum.

Suddenly it was quiet and only your heavy breaths can be heard.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized immediately and placed soft kisses on your shoulders while you still curl and shiver.

“No it’s perfectly fine,” you reached to him for a kiss and then Jeno proceeded to cleaning up his mess. Kissing your sensitive body while he wipes it and putting you both in the mood again for a second round, but stopped yourselves and just enjoy the night while you talk naked in his bed.

“Can you please play more safely? I see you go to the nurse’s wing every after game, but I never understood why until now. I though it’s just simple bruises.... and not, dislocated bones and-“ He cut you off with a soft giggle and caught him blushing like crazy. Who is this man? Is this really Lee Jeno? “What?” You added.

“Nothing. You’re just so cute when you worry for me. I remember back then you told me you wish I break my ankles during one of our morning practice because we had the field that day first,”

“Yeah... I’m sorry about that. You’re just so, annoying sometimes and I just hate you so much,” you gave him a hug as a sorry for what you said back then, which he gladly accepted and planted a kiss on your forehead.

“How about now? Do you still hate me now?” He squeezed you butt cheek to remind you of what happened earlier and how you loved every second of it.

“I most definitely, still hate you Jeno Lee” but of course, Jeno did not buy it and started kissing you again. Touching all the right places and whispering the right words. Until you two fucked again that night and he had to drive you home a little later that usual. This was the first night that you realized, you never wanted to be apart from Jeno.

“Y/n,” he called you just before you enter your house. You turned around to face him and gave him a sweet smile.

“Jeno Lee?”

“I love you,”

“I love you too,”

And just like that he made your heart jump again without any warning. Leaving you safely and driving away from you with both happy hearts.

When Jeno’s most awaited game finally came, by this time around you’re both still seeing each other secretly.

“There’s my favorite cheerleader,” he grabs you by the waist and admire you in your cheer uniform. You rolled your eyes at him and raked his long hair away from his face. Reminding him to play safely tonight.

“Win for this pussy,” you said with a smirk. You haven’t had sex with Jeno for some time now because he was so focused with practice and you think, tonight is just perfect.

But the handsome guy has something more in mind, “uh uh, Im winning for something else, this game is big I need a motivation,”

“Well, name it lover boy and I’m happy to give it,”

“Your heart. If we win this game we will be officially together and of course, the sex is just a bonus. What do you say? My place?” he’s waiting for an answer that will give him the energy that he will need all throughout the game.

You kissed him on the lips and encircled your arms around him and said, “Deal” then placed another one, “Now go win because I don’t want to spend my life with anyone else”

“You just had to set the bar high right before a game, huh?” He smirked and asked for another kiss. Completely transferring your balm to his soft, addicting lips.

Of course you and Jeno were excited and all for the thrill that night. The game wasn’t easy to win, but he worked hard inside the field while you worked hard outside the field, making sure that the people will have faith to Jeno until the end of the game, win or lose.

And speaking of win or lose, of course you’ll still make him your boyfriend after tonight. You just couldn’t let his heart break two times in one night.

But no worries, because as you wave your pompoms and screamed for Jeno’s name to take the winning shot, everyone celebrated with you.

“THAT’S MY BOYFRIEND!!!” You shamelessly shouted and came running towards to Jeno together with the others and Jeno caught you in his strong arms and lifted you off the ground. Kissing you in front of everyone which made their jaws drop.

That night, you have never been so flirty around Jeno, and he had never been this sweet to you. Maybe, you two were just holding it in and now that nothing is stopping you, you’re ready to love each other with everything you got.