#i just need to get one (1) pair of sock started so i can watch mota while i knit

[ninoochat]

pairing yarn to patterns shouldn't be this agonizing ahhhhhh

[yooie]

𝘽𝙖𝙗𝙮 𝘿𝙤𝙡𝙡.

PAIRING: jake x fem reader

GENRES: SMUT, fluff

CW: jake is a little (lot) pervy, smut and more smut

summary: bf jake is obsessed his little doll gf.

- literally. just a a random ramble. i did not proof read and im dyslexic so pls dont make fun of me thank u ☝🏻

you already knew how much jake loved when you dressed up for him. from your pretty skirts to the little details of jewelry, lipgloss or some cute frilly socks. which is why it made you even more excited to do so. you got up early for class and got ready for hours, you wore his favorite absolute favorite skirt, obviously one that was a little too short. after finishing the last touches on your makeup you were ready to leave.

second period was the only class you two had together, physics, and when 1pm came around you walked in, without looking for him in his seat walking past him and to your own seat. you didn't need to look, you could feel his eyes on you. practically burning holes into your skin. and not soon after you had sat down you heard your phone ding

jake: not even a hi? :(

jake: you look so pretty baby..

jake: how am i supposed to pay attention now...

jake: did you wear that pretty skirt for me?

you watched as your phone repeatedly went off, causing you to turn off your ringer, smiling at your phone as you read the texts that repeatedly came in.

you: you better !! how else am i supposed to study your notes... you are all thats getting me through this stupid class :(

fuck. the more he stared at you the more he felt the fabric of his pants straining. he tried to take a deep breath before pulling his hoodie over his lap. you were just so cute but all his brain could think about was how cute youd look with his dick inside of you.

-

class went by slow as. hell. for the both of you. more for him, you just liked his attention, you knew he wouldn't be completely focused so you did try to pay attention some, taking some notes of your own.

as soon as the professor concluded the lesson jake shot up from his seat like a magnet, he needed to be near you. soon you felt him behind you, grabbing your backpack and putting it on his other shoulder. "hi babydoll," i smiled softly giving your head a small kiss which immediately resulted in your cheeks turning bright pink. his hand had found its way to your lower back, guiding both of you out of the classroom.

"i missed you~" you smiled glancing up at him, his hand carefully moving some of your hair aside. "yeah? wanna come back to my dorm, we can... study" he smiled with a small chuckle. "i still have 1 more class jake.." you pouted - "skip it." "jake-" "please... " he pouted like a little puppy, he was so clingy all the sudden, and you loved it. "fine," he smiled as you both walked through the campus toward your dorms.

"did you like my outfit?" you hummed, "what kind of silly question is that.." - "of course i love it,.. my perfect little doll~" he cooed, gently playing with the lace hem of the skirt between his fingertips. "so pretty for me.." he muttered softly, that alone was enough to make your brain start going fuzzy. thankfully not long afterwards you had both reached jakes dorm, letting you in and leading you to his room, setting both of your things down and plopping his self onto the bed. thank. fucking. god. you two were finally alone. he didn't know how much longer he would be able to keep his hands to himself. "cmere baby,"

jake signaled you over to him, patting his lap for you. you walked over and compliantly sat down in his lap, his hands wasting no time starting to roam your body. "fuck, you make me crazy, you know that?" he finally had no filter. you could feel your heartbeat racing with every touch. he quickly lifted one of his hands bringing it to your chin and guiding your face to meet his. "that was a question doll," - your mind sputtered for a moment before replying ever so quietly, just enough so he could hear, "i know.." ,he hummed contently as you answered him.

jakes hands snaked down, caressing the curves of your waist before running down your thighs, stopping before sliding them up your skirt and gripping your ass. "m,.. just these little panties?... my naughty doll..". your breathing hitched as you felt the wet spot in your underwear grow, trying to shift your hips around to hide it, which only resulted in him pulling your skirt up further. "ive been dying to fuck you all day.." you felt his large bulge pushing against your clothed cunt, earning a small whine from you. Jake smirked as he heard the beautiful sound leave your lips. he wasnt typically this forward with you, but you could see in his expression he was different than normal, his eyes darker, more needy, like he couldn't think straight.

"did you want my attention baby?" "m?, is that why you dressed up in my favorite skirt~?" you slyly nodded your head, "words baby,-" he carefully turned your chin leaving one of his hands fondling your ass. "yes jakey... wanted your attention.." you mumbled, he kissed your lips softly in reward. but before you knew it he was giving you the exact attention you were now craving, his lips pressed against yours moving rhythmicly together, the kiss was needy, sloppy, and above all hot. he carefully guided his tongue into your mouth, feeling your hips shift around needlessly, causing him to chuckle a little into your mouth, making you whine. "as pretty as this little top is, i dont think we need it," he whispered before asking and then carefully removing it from your body along with his aswell.

he quickly went to work, trailing wet kisses all over your neck down to your chest, he physically couldn't get enough of you, he would devour you whole if he could. he trailed kisses all the way down to your tits, carefully sucking on the skin, slipping his tongue down to play with your nipples. earning small whines and moans to leave your mouth as your head hung in his shoulder. "jake.." you whinned, you could feel your wetness soaking through your panties onto his pants at this point. he pulled away just to look at the mess you made, "oh baby, look at the mess you made.." he pointed to the wet patch on his pants, your cheeks were beet red at this point. "want some help?" you nodded quickly in response.

he wasnt going to tease you anymore, at this point his dick was painfully hard and he needed to fuck you before he would actually explode. jake quickly lifted up your hips pulling your panties off before setting you down on the bed and taking off his pants and boxers letting his cock finally spring free of its restraints. "what about-?" you asked as you still had on the mini skirt, "keep it on." he smirked

— too be continued?

honestly my first time writing and i kinda think its shit so idk if i should keep going or not, but honestly if at least like 10 ppl actually want me to write the rest, i will!! let me knoww...

[undead-supernova]

Bullshit! / Masterlist / 18+

part 1 / part 3

Playlist

pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

plot: eddie runs into you unexpectedly and you think it's time to have that date a little early

contains: eddie lacking confidence, confident!reader, get to know Eddie and the reader a little better, making out, kids this is a bit more than pg-13 I'll tell you that much without spoiling it

note: sorry guys, I'm not done with this. maybe far from it. they have a dynamic unlike any other and I'm here for it.

wc: 4k

The library was maybe the last place Eddie wanted to be at one in the afternoon on a Tuesday. It was always overcrowded, riddled with students running around with coffee from the adjoining Starbucks. 

But Eddie needed a new book, having told himself that rereading The Hobbit the third time this semester was…unnecessary. Plus, his English professor told him that “we can only enact change ourselves.” 

Maybe it was a sign. Because as Eddie passed the large glass windows, he saw you sitting at one of the booths.

You looked different from every Saturday night. No makeup, hardly any jewelry except for a thin gold necklace and several rings. An oversized sweatshirt and, from his vantage point, you were wearing a pleated skirt. He even noticed that your high-top Converse were placed next to you, mismatched patterned socks adorning your feet. 

And, fuck, Eddie couldn’t help the excitement rising inside him. It should’ve embarrassed him when he started jogging towards the front door, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. All he could think about was the sound of your voice and your eyes and your touch and your kiss.

He slowed his pace as he walked past the printers and computers and found your head down in some textbook, blissfully unaware.

“Working hard or hardly working?” he asked.

And when you looked up and smiled, he could’ve sworn his heart swelled and burst like a goddamn balloon.

“Oh my gosh, hi!” you exclaimed, jumping up to give him a hug. “What the fuck are you doing here!”

It was only for a few seconds, but he couldn’t resist breathing in your intoxicating perfume and memorizing the feel of you. The curve of your back, the soft fabric of your sweatshirt scratching against his calloused fingertips.

And as you sat back down, he realized quickly why your mere touch was so alluring. It was a reminder that Saturday had been real and, on this grueling Tuesday, you still cared about his existence. You still noticed him.

“I was coming to look for something new to read,” he answered, trying to figure out what to do with his hands and failing. “What about you?”

Eddie couldn’t decipher your now raised eyebrow, watching as you lifted your pointer finger. “Sit down,” you nearly demanded, eyes flickering from him to the booth. His heart hammered in his chest as he complied, eyeing your finger following his movements. 

It was despicable how easy it was for you to get him to do whatever you wanted. Even just fucking sitting down. But he loved it. Every. Fucking. Second.

“I was in the stacks looking at the archives,” you explained. “But everyone in my class took them already.” You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Such bitches.”

“How rude,” Eddie said, all teasing with an amused smile.

He could tell you liked it, biting your lip slightly before playing along. “I know, it’s offensive.”

There was something he noticed in your expression, placing your lip back between your teeth as you scanned him up and down. Eddie was unable to keep a smile off his face, overwhelmed by the attention you gave him. Like he was a meal, but something to be savored rather than merely devoured.

He couldn’t help it when he returned the sentiment, glancing down at your skirt that was riding further and further up your thighs. It wasn’t the time to think about you like that, spread wide for him as he got on all fours. Having you barking commands at him to do it properly, rewarding him with endless praise once you deemed it good enough.

Your thighs parted just a bit more, head tilting to the side as you gave him a smirk. As if you knew exactly where his thoughts were and wanted him to keep going. And, wow, were you two really just eye-fucking each other in the library?

“Want some coffee?” he asked, trying to distract himself. Practically flinching, pulling himself back from the table. “I was gonna head to Starbucks afterwards.”

The sexual tension broke at the question and he watched as you fiddled with your pen. But you didn’t flounder like he did. He wondered if you ever could. 

“Yeah, I’d love to. I have to finish something up but—”

“Oh, I’ll go by myself,” he offered.

“You sure?” you asked, clearly surprised.

“Yeah, no biggie,” he assured you, standing up.

Expression turning a bit sheepish, you said, “I will warn you… My order is complicated.”

He shrugged. “Hit me.”

And the order wasn’t complicated, per se. Eddie just wanted to know how the hell had you come up with a “dirty iced chai with oat milk and two pumps of cinnamon dolce”. Regardless, Eddie tucked that into his Notes app for later. If there was a later.

After grabbing himself a large black coffee and the concoction you'd asked for, he made his way back over to you. Rounding the corner, he noticed the way you moved back and forth between a book and your laptop, sighing and mumbling something to yourself. But as if you could sense him, you turned and watched him approach, a smile appearing on your lips.

“Oh, a Venti, huh?” you teased, making grabbing motions at him anyways.

He shrugged, sitting back down. “You deserve it.”

“You know what? You’re right.” You took it from his hand, taking a long sip. “I hate Starbucks coffee,” you said, licking your lips. “It’s awful. But this is the best thing on the menu, so thank you.”

“Yeah, of course.” Eddie hoped you couldn’t see him blush. "I hate it, too. It's just the only thing we got." 

“God, I know. Also, I can Venmo you or—"

“Absolutely not,” he interrupted, waving you away. 

“Okay,” you conceded, not bothering to argue further. Just took another sip and sat back. Glanced out the window before back at him. “Wanna go on that date today?”

“Today?” he asked, nearly gobsmacked.

Nervousness ran along his limbs, not fully prepared to be with you. Alone. Just the two of you. It’d taken him hours to go to bed after dropping you off the other night. Any time he thought he was done masturbating, it just came with another round. Like a goddamn creep.

“Why not?”

“Aren’t you doing research?” he asked, feeling his face grow hot.

And if you noticed, you didn’t say anything about it.

“Oh my god, I would rather die than look at this shit any longer. I’ve been here since eight.” You paused before throwing a hand over your face. “Unless you’re busy. Sorry I didn’t ask first.”

“No, no. I’m free,” he lied, deciding at that moment to skip his class. He’d catch up on Algebra with his tutor—it’s not like he paid attention anyways. That damn tutor was the only reason he understood a fraction of it. Pun absolutely intended. 

And he swore you nearly jumped up, grabbing your shoes and shoving them on before packing up your backpack, the weight of it starting to look daunting. Book after book, plus your laptop and pencil case and…

Without thought, Eddie grabbed it for you, slinging it over his shoulder. Fuck, it was heavy. “Here, I got it.”

You stared up at him, clearly shocked. “Oh, you sure?”

But Eddie gave you a smile and gestured towards the window with his head. “Yeah, come on. I’ll drive.”

By all accounts, Eddie was actually…sweet. It was nearly sickening how sweet he could be, carrying your backpack for you and opening the car door (despite it being a stalker van). Asking what music you liked to listen to—everything, was the answer. And you didn’t just like every genre, you loved it— Fiddling with the air conditioning and telling you to change it if you get too hot or too cold. Asking if his music was too loud, asking how you were doing now, away from your books.

You were starting to find him ridiculously intriguing, unsure how to take his kindness. It wasn’t a bad thing by any means. You just…weren’t used to a man being so considerate of your feelings. 

It wasn’t like you didn’t think you deserved it—that was obvious every time a man got a little too close for comfort and you had to humiliate them. 

But there was just something that felt new about Eddie. When he’d approached you at the party, you sized him up like every other guy shooting their shot. But he caught your eye immediately when he stumbled over his words. And when a jolt seized your veins at that first touch on his arm, you knew you were hooked. 

You’d gone to bed that night with a smile on your face, softly licking along your lips to savor the lingering taste of Eddie’s mouth. It was tinged with beer, something you used to hate. Something you now loved, thoughts echoing one word:

New.

Eddie helped you out of the car once he’d parked, even insisting that you let him get it for you. It made you feel quite warm in the face, surprised by his assertion. Made you feel like a lady, something you hadn’t ever felt at the hands of a man.

As you moved through the museum, you were quiet, whispering now and then about certain art styles and their importance during their corresponding time periods. And you were glad that Eddie wasn’t a douchebag about noise level inside a museum.

He never interrupted, never poked fun at your intelligence. He’d even asked more questions, all hushed and contained, some even you didn’t know the answer to. Pocketing them for later to ask your professors. 

But Eddie rarely gave up any information about himself, leaving you to tap his foot with yours and ask him questions. Every time, his face got hot and he murmured responses with a shrug, as if he didn’t think it was anything special. 

How was it not? He was still undecided, having dreams of working on video games and helping direct the narratives in new and innovative ways to engage with the player more. You didn’t know much about video games, but you still listened. Still gave him the attention he’d given you. It wasn’t even hard—he was so animated once he got into something he was passionate about. It was endearing, actually.

You ended up sitting down on one of the benches together, staring at an abstract painting by an artist you’d never heard of. 

“Do you like abstract?” you asked him, whispering despite the empty room.

Eddie shrugged, eyes trained on the swirling colors. “I think so? I mean, it’s cool to look at. I just don’t really know what I’m looking for. Or what I’m looking at, for that matter.”

That brought a smile to your face. His statement wasn’t judgmental or dismissive. It was…pensive. Contemplative. 

“I think of it like music,” you said. “The different colors and movements are like different instruments. They’re all separate but they come together to make something magical.”

For emphasis, you leaned in closer to him, your face and shoulder fully pressed against him. Raised your arm to point at the sharp flicks of red hurling towards the top right of the canvas. You could’ve sworn you heard Eddie suck in a breath, having to suppress a smirk at the effect you had over him. 

“That’s like a trumpet, bright and loud. Furious in nature but soaring off the page.” Then you pointed toward the royal blue splatters, more round than some of the other scattered pigments. “And this is like, oh, I don’t know. I guess, a trombone. Low and sultry. Rounded. Keeping everything together.”

Eddie turned his head, your noses nearly touching. You couldn’t help the shiver running down your neck at the tickling sensation you got from his hair. A smile you hadn’t seen before enveloped his face as you made eye contact.

“So, you’re saying it’s like jazz.”

A breathy laugh left your lips, finding yourself intimidated by his pointed gaze. By the way you could study the rich brown in his eyes, all bright and energized despite his calm demeanor. The stubble rising from his pores, all scratchy and wicked. 

“Well, uh,” you murmured, surprised by your inability to form words. “It doesn’t have to be, but, um, I guess this one made me think of jazz. The way it kinda…” your voice trailed off as he seemingly leaned in further, his scent like smoke fogging your senses. “It’s not so rigid. It’s improv. It’s, um…”

“Varied?” he offered, his smile growing. “Unique?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Eddie let out a hum. “I think I get it now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s beautiful.”

For once, you had to look away, back at the painting to try and control your breathing. There were flashes of things you wanted to do, both tender and wildly too inappropriate for the setting. Things you wanted beyond physicality, beyond the limits you’d always set for yourself.

And as if he could hear the pounding of your heart, his fingertips touched yours. Slowly weaved his fingers through the spaces left open. Took a piece of your heart with him.

Eddie might not be exactly forward with his actions, but he knew what he wanted. All you could do was squeeze his hand and hope that one day you’d get to see him in full bloom. 

“Why do you do that thing?” you asked.

Eddie glanced over at you, one hand on the steering wheel. The other fiddled with a hole in his pants, needing something to grasp onto. His heart rate just started to slow down, giving him a chance to breathe. 

There was just something about you that drove him mad.

“What thing?”

“Act like you’re not interesting.”

Sheepishly, Eddie shrugged. “I mean, I don’t know. I guess it’s ‘cause you’re way more interesting than me.”

“Bullshit,” you said sternly, a scoff leaving your lips.

“What!” he exclaimed, looking over at you again. “It’s true.”

You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “You highly underestimate yourself.”

Eddie snorted. “I’m a stereotype.”

“Bullshit,” you repeated, starting to sound genuinely frustrated. “Who the hell told you that?”

He didn’t know where to start. 

Being a loser wasn’t a big deal for him in high school. Grew up with his father’s reputation preceding him. Got through it the best he could with some awesome friends along the way. Finally graduated high school and raised his GPA enough to come here. It was simple. In his mind, he was simple.

But spending the latter half of summer, the one he dared never to speak of, without his friends and then coming here without anyone else… Well, he struggled to find anyone willing to be his friend. He tried. Really, he did. But it never came to fruition.

And what was more embarrassing than joining a D&D club before being told he didn’t belong within the first hour? Him, the DM of Hawkins, hell, Indiana, being told he didn’t belong. That he didn’t play right. That he just didn’t fit.

He spent so much time alone. It was starting to make him miss Hawkins, the nostalgia starting to kick in. Hawkins, the place he loathed. The place he wanted nothing to do with. 

He was a nineteen-year-old Freshman with no friends and an undecided future.  

His silence must’ve lasted longer than he thought because you pointed at the nearly empty Walmart parking lot and asked, “Actually, would you pull in for a sec?”

“Yeah, of course,” he responded, heading towards the very back row, far from any remaining cars. Giving the two of you privacy just in case you started to yell at him for being a loser or something. He didn’t know. You were just so unpredictable.

But once he parked, you were unbuckling your seatbelt and grabbing his chin. Squished the bottom of his cheeks in one hand as you pulled his face closer to yours. He must’ve stopped breathing, hands slipping from the steering wheel.

“You better start listening to me, Eddie,” you breathed, all low and sensual, moving your lips to barely graze his bottom lip. “I really don’t like you talking about yourself like that.”

Eddie could feel sweat collecting beneath his bangs as you continued your torture, raking your fingernails down his throat before wrapping your hand around it. He gasped, earning a small smile out of you.

“I don’t waste my time with boring people, as conceited as that sounds,” you continued, the left corner of your mouth lifting. Eyes flickering between his eyes and his lips, eyelashes fluttering with each micromovement. “But I never claimed to be the nicest person, did I?” Eddie still wouldn’t speak. He didn’t know if he could without moaning. “You’re one of the most interesting people I’ve met. And the nicest, which is probably more than I deserve. You’ve seen the way I treat other men.”

“They deserved it,” he whispered, feeling his cock twitch when your grip tightened. “Every one of them.”

“Yeah, they did,” you replied, raising the pitch of your voice. Like you were taunting him. “But you’re different, aren’t you?”

“I-I am?”

“You’re sweet,” you breathed, giving slow kisses to his cheeks. Giggling when you noticed the blood rushing into them so rapidly. “And you’re a real nice guy, you know that?”

“I, uh, I try to be,” he stumbled as you moved your lips past his jaw and against his ear. Went limp at the feeling of you biting the lobe, fanning your breath over it.

“You do such an excellent job,” you whispered. “So nice and kind and funny. You really get me going, Eddie. I didn’t think I’d be so affected by you.”

When you pulled back to face him, you chuckled. He couldn’t blame you. His eyes must’ve been popping out of his head, mouth agape at your pretty words. What was even more fucked up was how genuine you sounded, like you weren’t just saying these things to say them. You meant it.

“I thought about you a lot this weekend,” you said breathily, removing your hand from his neck to start coiling his hair around your finger.

“Me?”

“You,” you said with a nod.

He licked his lips. “W-what about me?”

“About how interesting you are. And not to get too vulgar,” you said with a giggle, all teasing and devilish. “But I couldn’t help but think about taking your cock down my throat.” Another giggle as you tapped your fingers along his collarbone. “Thought about what it looks like, if it’s half as pretty as you.”

Eddie couldn’t stop the way his cock strained against his jeans, the neverending praise overwhelming him. “T-thank you,” he responded, unable to suppress the whine that he’d tried to contain when your other hand began palming him over his jeans. 

“You, um,” he tried to continue, taking a deep breath through his nose to keep his composure. “I-if you want, you can. Anytime. Any time.” 

“It’d be so easy like this, you know,” you nearly purred. “To ride you, to leave you a blubbering mess and thanking me for taking care of you. I think you’d really, really like that.”

“You’re killing me, sweetheart,” he groaned, fingers now reaching out to white-knuckle the steering wheel. 

“Am I wrong?”

A tiny scoff left his lips as you nearly massaged his cock, knowing that if you didn’t stop soon, he was going to burst. “You already know the answer to that.”

“I want to hear it, Eddie.” You nipped his neck, causing him to jump a little. But you wouldn’t stop, whispering filthy words as you continued to mark him. “I want to hear you tell me how good it would feel for me to suck you dry.” He continued to nod, each word sending him further into the deep end. “Before getting you hard again, just ‘cause I can, and getting on top so I can milk you with my pussy.” He moaned at your vulgarity. “Which is dripping, by the way.”

Without any warning, Eddie was cumming, an explosive rush that had him twitching and jerking. Panting and dry mouthed. You didn’t remove your hand, merely chuckling and rubbing him through his jeans until he was able to breathe normally again.

Before Eddie could get the chance to apologize for his behavior, you were pulling him in with an agonizingly slow kiss, your fingers damp from the cum seeping through his jeans. 

You tugged at his lower lip with your teeth before letting out a hum. Gazed up into his puppy dog eyes and said, “Good boy.”

After a few moments of Eddie being able to think clearly again, you found your eyes wandering around his console before settling on a pack of cigarettes. 

“You smoke?” you asked, plucking them from the cupholder and shaking the box in front of his face.

He nodded, seemingly quiet despite what transpired. “Want one?”

“Absolutely,” you responded, quick to take two out and hand one over. Watched him roll the windows down. Even went so far as to light both cigarettes for you like a gentleman. 

You knew he was still coming down from that high. It wasn’t like you could judge when the wetness collecting between your thighs was probably staining the carseat. It took everything in you not to beg him to take you right then and there. But you were a lady (of sorts) and as a lady, you were content with saving yourself for another day.

Besides, it was nice to see him so calm now. Like a weight had been lifted, if only for a moment. It was still a moment.

“Post-nut clarity cigarette,” you joked, taking a slow drag and glancing out at the afternoon sun. 

“Was that…not embarrassing?”

That was when you realized what was happening.

“Are you kidding me? That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” you said truthfully. 

“I’m sure it’s totally hot,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Ah, yes. You supposed it was embarrassing for a guy to have creamed his pants without so much as a kiss. But that didn’t bother you at all. You knew it would be different once you were alone, edging him until he was begging you for more. Nothing would make you happier.

You ignored him. “You know, if you want us to go any further, you’re gonna have to earn it,” you said plainly, checking over your nails to make sure the paint hadn’t chipped too bad.  

“How?”

“Once you learn to be nice to yourself.” You shrugged before glancing back over at his wide-eyed expression. “I know there’s something more to you than what you think of yourself. I saw it at the party and I’m seeing it now. You just have to see that, Eddie. That’s really all there is to it.”

Eddie’s lips seemed to form a pout before he took a few hearty puffs, the smoke billowing around you. Looked around. Looked down at his lap. Looked back up at you. Mumbled, “So I can’t, like, go down on you right now?”

A laugh surged out of you so quickly that you started coughing. You waved him away when his concern sounded, ending up laughing harder before you could contain yourself.

“As much as I’d love to give you the privilege of eating me out right now, I think it’s best to wait until you’ve shown some improvement.”

“So there’s a chance?” he asked. 

You leaned back in towards his face, opening his mouth with your thumb. Taking another drag, you put your lips to his and blew the smoke into his mouth. Felt him breathe it in before letting it out through his nose. 

You smirked. “If you’re desperate for a piece of me, you could always lap up what I left behind on your car seat.”

He groaned, taking a deep breath while rolling his eyes. “God, you’re a fucking menace.”

“Honey, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

as per usual, thanks to @strangergraphics for letting me use her dividers and looking over my work hehehe

[myzticbean]

Smutty dom!Xavier (Sex Pollen Pt. 2)

This is part 2 of my Xavier smut series, On The Job Work Hazards: Sex Pollen Made Me Do It. Find part 1 here. You can read it without part one, but it would make more sense in the context of the story. It's also wild that this ended up being an 11k+ word series🤷‍♀️😎

Quick recap: After a battle with a flower wanderer, you and Xavier unexpectedly get a little frisky, and now you're going to finish what you started. Read on AO3.

Pairing: Shen Xinghui | Xavier / MC (fem! reader) Tags: Dominant!Xavier, fingering (f. receiving), oral sex, ass play (f. receiving), shower sex, consensual rough sex, roleplay (consensual non-consent) -- everyone is an adult, nobody gets hurt 😊

Title: On The Job Work Hazards: Sex Pollen Made Me Do It

I wasn’t quite sure how it happened - I had never been swept away and materialized with Xavier before (I didn’t even think it was possible), but we appeared in his apartment in seconds. I gripped his neck a little tighter, frightened of the subtle power he displayed. 

“Xavier…” I questioned, trailing off as I peered up into his face. His eyes were shielded by his bangs, and he wouldn’t meet my gaze. He just slowly released me, letting me slide down his body.

He tapped his watch, and there were beeps and alarms from both of our hunter units as we officially entered the decontamination protocol. In unison, we both took off the watches and set them aside. 

“Do you want to shower first?” he asked, voice quiet and restrained.

He didn’t want to meet my eyes, and I felt a little hurt. “I…did you change your mind?” I ask, a little hesitant but not quite sure how to read his body language. Just minutes ago, he seemed so confident and sure of what he - we - wanted. 

“No,” he said, startled, his eyes jumping up to meet mine. “I just didn’t want to pressure you in case you decided you…didn’t want…”

I sighed in relief, pulling out my ponytail and letting my hair fall down around my shoulders. I could see the bright yellow pollen still dotting my hair, skin and clothing. 

“Xavier, sometimes…” I shook my head lightly. “Look, I’d tell you if I didn’t want to. Haven’t I always been honest with you?”

“Sometimes too honest,” he agreed, nodding slightly. “It can hurt my feelings.”

I bit my lip, trying to stifle a smile. “Shaddup.”

“Like that,” he said.

“If you don’t take your clothes off and join me in the shower, I’ll definitely just go back to my apartment instead,” I replied, starting to unfasten the various buckles and straps on my hunter vest. 

His hands immediately got to work, quickly unfastening his buckles and zips, and just as I shimmied out of my vest and undershirt, he was already standing nude in front of me.

I gaped, my eyes drifting down his body in a slow, visual caress. His skin was so pale and smooth (practically hairless except for a few scattered dustings of ultra-light ash brown hair), but a pink flush had started at his cheeks and worked its way down his neck and shoulders. 

“You…” I gulped a little, watching his abs ripple as I stared at his body in awe. 

“Do you like it?” he asked, watching the expressions race across my face. He placed one palm on his belly before sliding it down, taking hold of his rapidly-hardening cock. I swallowed, a little breathless.

“Yes.” I tried to bite back a moan.

“Please take off your clothes, I want to see you too,” he said, his whispery voice more urgent now with his need. He didn’t step towards me, simply watching as my hands started moving once more. I bent down to slide off my boots and socks, and pushed my pants and underwear down over my hips. 

As I stood back upright, he appeared in front of me, the heat radiating off of his skin and warming mine. I could feel goosebumps race over my flesh, and his masculine scent and the soft rustle of his hair twined around my body. I had never wanted someone the way I craved him.

“Touch me,” I half-begged, half-demanded. My nipples hardened in the slightly cool air conditioning. 

He reached out, trailing one finger across delicate collar bones before dipping down to trace along the curves of my breast. Using one finger, he scraped gently over one nipple. I inhaled quietly, my head tipping back slightly as he used his fingernail to scratch along the surface again, and then for a third time. My sensitive flesh tingled, red and slightly puffy.

“Your mouth too?” I wanted it to be a command, but it came out pleading instead. 

“Hm,” he said, neither a yes or a no, simply shifting a little closer. He knew what I wanted, and where I wanted his mouth, but instead, he barely moved to allow his chest to brush delicately against mine, the heated touch of his skin almost like fire to my sensitive flesh. 

His hand drifted away from my nipple, instead sliding down my ribcage and settling at the small of my back. He lowered his head, his soft hair a gentle caress against my cheeks and neck, and he pressed a small kiss to the underside of my chin. 

I tried to bite back the whine of dismay, lifting my chin a little higher to encourage him to trail down my neck and shoulders, but he didn’t move. His tongue darted out to take a lick, and then another, the soft, slick muscle a hint of things to come. I pressed my thighs together unconsciously.

“You said you wanted to be fucked…and then loved. Is that right?” Xavier asked, his voice somewhat muffled against me. 

“Yes,” I whispered. “That’s what I want.”

“Then I’ll need to get you ready,” he murmured, pressing another gentle kiss to my neck before he stepped back, holding out one hand. “Come with me.”

I eagerly placed my hand in his, letting him tug me into the spacious, cream-colored bathroom. His apartment was a lot nicer than mine, but I didn’t stop to take in all the details, just watching as he flipped on the switch in the shower to warm up the water. He let me go to get a thick towel, and I was a little amazed at the casual confidence in his nudity. But I supposed if I had his body (and other gifts), I’d be pretty confident as well. 

“Let me brush my teeth first,” I said, watching his tight little ass clench as he opened a drawer and pulled out a new toothbrush for me. I got to work while he hung up the towel on the hook next to the shower door, and he motioned me inside after testing the temperature. I stepped into the spray, the hot water a welcome jolt after the sudden coolness of the apartment following an energetic battle.

“Xavier,” I murmured, unaware of how affectionately I said his name as he soaped up his hands and started stroking up and down my body. My neck and shoulders, arms, breasts and hips, he left no part of me untouched. He knelt down in front of me, soaping my legs, but his eyes were glued to the curves and folds between them. He toyed with the small patch of soft, dark hair I had trimmed right above my pussy.  

“I like this,” he said. “You are…perfect.”

I blushed furiously. “You don’t-” I started to say before he cut me off.

“I’m not being polite, and I’m not lying. You are so beautiful.”

I shivered, the feel of his calloused hands rubbing up and down my legs sending a jolt of pure pleasure through me. He dipped me back into the water to rinse off.

“Let me wash you too,” I said, reaching for the soap.

“Next time, honey,” he promised thickly. He washed and rinsed himself off with record time, thrusting his head under the spray and scrubbing his hair roughly as I moved out the way to give him room. 

I laughed as he rushed, the warm steam in the shower adding the hazy, almost surreal experience. I could hardly wrap my head around how we just shifted from partners to lovers in less than an hour. 

He suddenly spun around, wrapping his arms around me and tugging me closer to his body, resting me against his chest and my stomach pressed against his eager, straining cock. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he said, staring down intently at my surprised face, his blue eyes so dark they looked almost black. 

“So long?” I asked, a little disoriented, but he didn’t answer me, instead lowering his head and pressing his lips against mine. I parted my lips on instinct, awash in sensation as his tongue slicked along my bottom lip and entered my mouth. Our tongues tangled together; he deftly rubbed the roof of my mouth, skimming over my teeth, and even coaxed my tongue to follow his back into his mouth. I returned the favor, the feel of his thin, sweet lips on mine and his breath panting into my mouth as we exchanged fervid kisses. 

I could feel him, hot and trembling against my belly, and I undulated against his hardness in an unspoken invitation. 

“Turn around and put your hands against the wall,” he commanded, his voice tight and low. “Spread your legs, honey.”

I did as he asked, in no mood to play any games, and I bent forward, resting my palms against the cold tile. My excitement rose when I heard him kneel behind me. He spread the cheeks of my ass, exposing me to his gaze.

I whimpered, clenching a little in nervousness, but he just hushed me with a gentle hum. “That’s it, honey, just like this. I’m going to taste all of you now.”

It was indecent the way his voice caused an almost visceral reaction, my pussy damp and excited. 

“You’re so pretty, so pink and wet,” he said huskily, trailing his lips over one cheek and then the other. He suddenly nips me hard, and I can feel a blooming warmth from the bite. I groaned, my head lowered as I shifted back, hips arched and begging for his mouth. 

“Please,” I whispered, body aching. The arousal that had begun following our battle came roaring back with a vengeance. 

He trailed long, slender fingers up the damp slit of my pussy, his thumb rubbing a slow, meandering circle on my clit before sliding back down once more. The puffy folds were so sensitive, pink and flushed from my excitement, and tingled with every gentle stroke of his fingers. 

I moaned, unable to help myself, arching my back and spreading my legs a little farther apart. 

“Good girl,” he murmured softly, lips still pressed against the soft curve of my butt as he watched his fingers play in the damp folds, spreading them apart to expose my wet, quivering pussy. He grunted, obviously pleased, as he tugged playfully on one little fold.

“Why are you teasing me?” I grumbled, pressing my forehead against my hands. “I didn’t tease you like this.”

He immediately shifted, nipping a little harder and pulling back to admire the mark. “Alright, honey. I hear you.”

He immediately strengthened his strokes, going from light, playful touches to a more demanding tug. Using two fingers, he pinched my clit, massaging it with his calloused fingers in an undulating motion, tugging at the swollen hood.

I gasped, rocking back before pressing forward into his grip, pressing my clit more firmly against his fingertips. I could feel my body clenching in pleasure, empty and unfilled. 

“Xavier, gods, please,” I sighed in pleasure, the edge of a moan in my words. 

“That’s it, use my fingers. I’m going to get you nice and wet for me, okay?”

I shivered, pleasure racing down my spine and pooling between my legs. I could feel how damp and sticky my thighs were, the shower spray a distant hum of white noise. 

“Yes, yes,” I panted. “Please.”

He let go of my clit, trailing those deft fingers back up my slit, circling the quivering hole and coating his fingers with my wetness. Using one finger, he dipped inside, just barely breaching me before pulling back out. I groaned before gasping when he sunk his finger back inside a little deeper, working me open.

With his other hand, Xavier spread my cheeks, fingering the tight little bud of my ass that I had only ever considered something shameful. My cheeks flamed in embarrassment at the whine of ridiculous pleasure that escaped from me when I felt him circling the little ring.

“Oh, no, I-” I started to say before my words were cut off. He had pressed a finger more tightly against my ass, not breaching me, but the pressure had me clenching even tighter around the finger he was pumping inside of me.

“You like it,” he murmured, as if a little surprised but very pleased. I could tell he was turned on, his voice a little raspy now. 

“I’ve never…” I couldn’t finish the sentence as he slipped a second finger inside my pussy, curling and stroking the soft, quivering flesh inside. I breathed heavily, panting, my body bowstring tight. It had been a long time since I’d had a lover, and I was used to my own slim fingers or a vibrator. His fingers were deceptively long, filling me in a way I never could before. 

“Yes, oh my gods, yes, feels so good,” I moaned. “Give me another.”

He followed my orders this time without argument, slicking a third finger and easing it inside of me with a slow, steady pump. I felt full now, almost too full, and I loved it. I arched and pressed back, back against his fingers and the hand he used to stroke my ass. 

“That’s it, honey, just like that.”

For a moment, I thought I’d come just from his words, but suddenly, I could feel his tongue burrowing next to his fingers, licking around them as he continued to thrust them, slowly but steadily, into my pussy. I could hear tiny gulps, as if he were drinking nectar, a hum of pleasure vibrating his chest as he captured every droplet. 

I started shaking, my legs quivering as I could feel the wave of pleasure starting to crest. I wanted to come so bad, but at the same time, stretch it out just a little longer, the feel of his fingers and tongue fucking into my pussy about to drive me over the edge. 

“Oh, y-y-yes,” I stuttered, my hips writhing back on his fingers and mouth. I pressed my forehead even harder against my hands braced on the tile. Suddenly, I felt his mouth disappear, and I whimpered in loss, before a sudden exhale shook me as I felt his tongue tracing around the bud between my cheeks. 

I gasped, the filthy image of his tongue buried between there immediately raced through my mind, and the slick, deft tongue he used to press against my flesh shot me into orbit. I climaxed so hard I saw stars, my body gushing and clenching around his fingers and tongue. I cried out, sobbing and rocking back onto his hands. I could feel the fluid racing down my legs as each throb of my orgasm rocketed through my body. 

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I wailed, his mouth furiously licking and sucking as his fingers thrust into my harder and faster, chasing and extending my orgasm. 

“X-X-Xav-Xavier,” I stammered, my tongue heavy and tired as I finally started to come down and he pulled away, my legs trembling and almost giving out. He caught me in strong arms, holding me tightly against him, my back pressed to his chest. I could feel his dick throbbing where it nestled between my buttcheeks.

“You did so good, honey. That’s it, just breathe,” he said softly, burying his face in my neck as I tried to steady my breath. 

“That…that was…amazing,” I said, still somewhat breathless, but I stretched in pleasure, lifting my hands to drape over his neck as he stood behind me. 

“We’ve only just begun,” he replied, somewhat cheekily I noticed with a lifted eyebrow, but he sounded so happy that I let it slide. 

“Let’s finish up here, I want you in my bed,” he murmured as he lifted his head. We stood there for a few moments longer just cuddling closer. 

I stepped back into the spray, hastily washing away some of the slick between my thighs, my body still a little shivery with aftershocks. He watched me, soaping up his hands and sticking them in the spray around me, rubbing over my tummy as the water sluiced down our bodies. 

He stepped back, reaching outside the glass door to grab our towels as I turned off the spray, and we dried off in comfortable silence. I giggled a little as I bent over, towel drying the damp strands of my hair and swiping down my legs.

“Why are you laughing?” he asked, his voice questioning. 

“I just thought it was a little funny that this morning, I woke up with no idea that we’d be…uh…together like this,” I said, smiling as I flipped back my hair and wrapped the damp down around my body. He hadn’t bothered, just hanging the towel back up and stepping out of the shower nude. 

He walked casually to the sink, swishing a little mouthwash as he stared at me in the mirror. After he had finished, he lifted his head to watch me drape my towel on the hook next to his and saunter out into the bedroom. I caught a glimpse of something soft, but shuttered, in his eyes. I wondered what he was thinking about…but it wasn’t the right time to ask, not when we both had something else on our minds. 

I collapsed on his unmade bed, sprawling on the sky blue bed sheets and his fluffy white comforter bunched up under my hips. When I flipped onto my belly, I could smell the scent of him in the pillows and sheets, sweet and sugary (telling on his probable affinity for eating candy in the bed), and his warm, inviting scent. 

He paused when he walked into the room, a clean towel in his hands that he threw over the footrest at the end of the bed as he watched me wallowing in his sheets. I wanted to leave a mark of my own scent behind, I thought, so that after I left, he would be reminded of me perhaps. 

He crawled onto the bed, kneeling beside me, and ran his hands up the back of my thighs and over my butt, his fingers digging in a little as he traced them up to my shoulders. I wiggled a little, sighing as he trailed over my ribs and spine, and laughed at the ticklish sensation. He laid down beside me, moving the hair off my neck and giving me a gentle kiss, his chest pressed against my arm and back as he hovered over me. 

“Xavier,” I murmured quietly, turning my head towards him as he propped himself up on one arm. The other hand smoothed up and down my back, hands warm against my skin. 

“Yes?” he asked, watching his fingers as they tickled along my hips. 

“It feels good,” I answered, stretching a little into the caress. 

He hummed a little, thoughtful and quiet as he touched every part of me that he could reach. I flipped over, watching his hand trail along my skin as I moved, and it settled just under the dip of my belly button. 

“What do you want me to do to you?” he asks in a low, rumbling tone - quite a departure from his usual whisper-soft voice. I liked the difference, knowing that I was hearing it because he was turned on and just as attracted to me as I was to him. 

“Hmm,” I said thoughtfully, reaching up to rub his cheek, swiping a finger over his parted lips. He captured my finger between his teeth in a gentle bite before letting me go. “I want your mouth, your teeth and tongue and fingers, and I want your cock pounding into me while I come. I want my legs over your shoulders, I want you to fuck me from behind, I want to be on top of you and ride you until you think you might die.”

I smiled naughtily. “I guess I’m saying, I want it all.”

“That’s a long list for tonight, but I’ll see what I can do,” he answered casually. I gulped.

“It doesn’t have to be all at once,” I muttered. I draped my arms over his neck, tugging him closer. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“Haven’t we already kissed?” I questioned back, smiling.

He just watched me, hovering above me propped on one arm, the other tracing over one nipple before pinching it. 

“Yes,” I hissed, lifting my head in a silent beg for his mouth.

He smiled, a small one but there in the soft corners of his lips, and lowered his mouth to mine. Before today, we had never been this close, this intimate, but we were rapidly learning each other's likes and dislikes. I liked it when he nipped at my bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue, his mouth neither too wet nor too dry against mine. He liked it when I sucked at his top lip, licking along the seam of his mouth before my tongue dipped inside. 

I breathed out a happy sigh when he pulled away, his nose nuzzling along mine as we breathed together. I combed my fingers through his damp hair, brushing the bangs back so I could see his face.

“I know a little about what you like,” he starts, his voice quiet and restrained. “What do you not like?”

I wasn’t really sure how to answer. How could I admit how generally normal my sex life had been? A few short-lived relationships when I was at the university, and one or two dates after I joined the hunter’s association didn’t make for an exactly thrilling love life. 

Maybe he could see the conflict, or confusion, in my expression, because he gave me another quick, deep kiss before pulling away again. “How about this? Are you okay if I play a little rough?”

“How rough are we talking about? I don’t want any blood,” I said, staring up at him. 

“I won’t hurt you like that,” he soothed, brushing a hand over my face, and tugging gently on a lock of dark hair. “Did you like what I did before? Bites and…” he paused, pinching my nipple again, but a little harder this time.

I gasped, nodded, and said “yes” on a long exhale. My nipple felt a little sore, but the pleasurable tingles overrode any discomfort. He leaned over, sucking the abused nipple into his mouth, pulling strongly at it. I grabbed his head, cradling him against my breast, and jerked when I felt his teeth clamp lightly over the tip. The grip got steadily harder, though, and I could feel a flash of pain and pleasure clouding my mind. I jerked, shudders wracking my body. He tugged at it once more before pulling away with a soft little pop as he let me go.

It was flushed red by his mouth, and I shivered, the damp skin prickling as he puffed a warm little breath over my breast. 

“It seems you like a little pain with your pleasure?” he asked, but I could tell he already knew.

I nodded. “Not…not a lot,” I said, a blush on my cheeks. “But I like how you make me feel.”

“I’ll check in with you, okay? If you feel like it’s too much, I want you to say something. Green means you’re good, yellow means we need to take it slow, and red means no more. Got it?”

I nod. “Got it.” He was much more experienced with this than I was, I noticed. I tugged him down, brushing my lips over his. “What about you? What do you like?”

He smiled, catching his bottom lip between his teeth before he let go. “Hmm, that’s a conversation for another day. This is all about you, honey.”

I pouted, my lips pursing. I didn’t like that answer, but he swept me into another deep, searing kiss before I could argue. I slumped back to the bed once he released me, panting. 

He lowered his head, nipping along my neck to the meat of my shoulder, using his teeth in a slightly harder bite. I grunted, writhing and feeling trapped by his teeth but incredibly excited. I’d never had another lover bite me like this - sure, a few love nips, but this was an actual bite. I could feel the imprint of teeth when I rubbed a hand over it, my mind a little hazy at the tender sensation. 

“What color, honey?”

“Green,” I said, digging my head into the pillows and arching my neck in blatant invitation. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, resuming his exploration. He slipped down my body, his mouth licking and sucking along the curves of my breasts before baring his teeth and biting down once more. A little harder this time, and as he released the clamp of his teeth, he sucked the flesh tightly into his mouth, his tongue licking along the trapped flesh. He was leaving a mark this time, an angry red bordering on purple. 

“Oh, yes,” I moaned, the release of his mouth sending tingles shooting through my body, endorphins rushing to fill the space where pain had once been. He chuckled darkly, his face pressed between my breasts as he reverently kissed each mound. 

“That’s it, I want to hear you even more.” 

He went on, his hands and lips skimming over my body. I felt like there was no inch left unmapped, and I was panting by the time he finally knelt between my legs. He lifted one of my legs, propping it on his shoulder and rubbed his hands firmly from my ankle to my knee. He turned his head, biting the meat of my calf, but not enough to leave a mark. 

“I’m going to use my fingers until you’re nice and ready for me, honey, and then I’m going to put your legs over my shoulders and fuck you deep into this mattress.”

I watched as his eyes locked on my pussy, now exposed with one leg thrown over his shoulder. I bent the other knee, digging my heel into the mattress and opening myself up to his gaze. I gripped the sheets since I couldn’t reach him, my body already aching and ready.

“Please,” I shamelessly begged. “Hurry.”

He tutted, a small sound, but I could see the smile in his eyes. “I don’t want to rush,” he said softly, his eyes lowering as he surveyed my body under his. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

He reached down, gripping his cock with one hand as he knelt between my legs, his long, slim fingers wrapping around it. He stroked it, almost casually, as he watched me undulate with barely suppressed need.

“Xavier, you’re teasing me,” I pouted, my eyes glued on his hands. I swallowed hard, remembering the taste and feel of him in my mouth. His eyes were dark as he watched me, and I could tell he was practically reading my mind.

“Next time, I want you on my face while you suck my cock,” he sounded a little pained, watching as I licked my lips. 

I nodded fervently, fists clenching in the sheets. “Please,” I begged again, trying to spread my legs even wider.

He didn’t tease me anymore, releasing his cock to grab my thigh as the other hand stroked up and down my damp slit. His thumb pressed against my clit, circling, while his fingers slowly dipped into my pussy. I was still wet from the play in the shower, no resistance against his entrance, so he easily added a second finger. He stretched me gently, curling his fingers and stroking that soft, spongy spot that had me groaning in pleasure.

His fingers curled and pressed forward, before he paused and went still, the pressure high and tight. I tried to wriggle my hips, arching and squirming. “Xav,” I whined, “keep moving.”

Instead, he lifted his second hand, two fingers clamping on my clit again, and between the pressure on my clit and in my pussy, I could feel myself rapidly building towards another climax even without extra stimulation. I moaned, thighs quivering. “I’m close,” I panted. 

He massaged his fingers before releasing the pressure on my clit, and I could feel the blood rushing back into the tender area. He added one more finger, three buried deep as he curled and stretched me a little more before he finally lined himself up between my legs.

“You ready, honey?” he asked, voice tight and sultry, his pupils blown wide as he looked down at me. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” I chanted, canting my hips up. I could feel the stretch in my hamstrings and thighs as he pulled my second leg over his other shoulder, my butt cradled between his thighs as he centered himself. He tilted forward, curling over me, and eased himself into my body in pulses. Pushing forward, withdrawing, over and over as he opened me up to fit his cock. I instinctively tightened as he bottomed out, wanting him to stay inside deeper, longer, filling me up.

He grunted, hips pulsing forward in a slow, methodical roll. I could feel him pressing against me, full and deep, and it was almost painful how good it felt. I threw my head back, gasping his name. 

“Give me your color, baby,” he ordered, “because I’m going to start now.”

“Green,” I promptly replied, thighs clenching in excitement. 

Without holding back, he spread his knees wider for better traction, one arm wrapped across my legs and the other braced beside me as he leaned over, and I felt him pull back and thrust in, hard and deep and fuck, it hurt so good, I cried out. 

He picked up an almost brutal pace immediately, his cock rubbing against the sensitive walls of my pussy with the angle. All I could feel were short, sharp thrusts before he pumped into me so deep I could feel him against my cervix. Each movement sparked a rough drag against my clit, sending a shockwave through my belly. 

I couldn’t even speak, my throat tight as I panted for breath. He kept thrusting, but it wasn’t mindless, it was with precision on just how deep he knew I could take it. And that faint edge of pain dissipated when he suddenly shifted, the edges of his cock now rubbing against that perfect spot inside of me with each thrust.

I went nova. I clenched my pussy, tight like a vise around his cock, demanding more. My fingers were digging into the mattress, and I could hear the faint tearing sound of the sheets. Tears leaked from my eyes as I was rapidly overwhelmed by pleasure, his cock pumping into me at a steady pace as soon as he realized he had gotten the perfect angle. 

“Y-y-y-yes,” I tried to say, teeth chattering. All I could see were his shoulders arched above me, blocking out the light as he fucked me into the mattress, just as he promised. I was locked down tight, unable to get any leverage to push back against his thrusts. 

I was almost insensible. “Harder, fuck me, yes, fuck, harder,” I tried to demand, but I don’t know if he could even understand me. He didn’t change his tempo, though, no matter how much I wanted him to go even deeper, his cock spearing into me over and over again. 

I reached up with one hand, scrambling for purchase at his shoulder, and he curled over, my body rolled up even tighter, legs trapped as he fucked me now even deeper than before. Every thrust was winding me up even tighter. 

I dug my nails in, scratching at him in my mindless pleasure. Warmth coiled between my legs, trembling from the stretch, and suddenly, I clamped down. Spasms and waves of pleasure burst forth, and I could hear the sound of his cock fucking into my clenching, wet pussy. 

I cried out, tears streaming from my eyes, mouth open as I panted and gasped for breath, my entire body shivering with white hot flashes of heat and electricity from one of the most powerful orgasms of my life. He held me firmly, and I was unable to move away even as I began to grow more sensitive, but my climax kept cresting over and over again, unending, as he continued to thrust into my flexing pussy. My clit was overstimulated and sensitive, red and flushed as it dragged along his cock. His eyes were locked on me, tracing over my face and body obsessively. 

I tried to writhe from the pleasure, but I couldn’t move, and excitement continued to flood me as I realized he had me exactly how he wanted me. There was nothing I could do. I sobbed, pleasure hazing my thoughts, and I felt like I was going to pass out. 

“Color,” Xavier demanded harshly, sweat peppering his hairline and glistening on his chest and shoulders as he maintained his rhythm. 

“Y-yellow?” I say somewhat questioningly. I was having a hard time catching my breath, and I knew as I came down from my orgasm I was going to be very sensitive, but I didn’t want to stop.

He hummed, slowing down though still pulsing inside of me, more gently now. “Let’s try this,” he says, and carefully pulls out. He lets my legs fall free and helps me flip over to my belly.

“On your knees, honey,” he coaxes. “That’s it, good girl. Rest your head on the bed, but lift your hips. There we go.”

The praise is…honestly, it was really doing it for me. I blushed and hid my face in the ragged sheets as I got into the new position, lifting my hips and arching my back. I turned my head a little, glancing over my shoulder.

Xavier was flushed, face and chest pink, damp from exertion and control. He was mind bogglingly gorgeous, the ropey muscles of his arms tight as he gripped my hips and abs clenched as he braced himself behind me.

I can feel the traces of my orgasm dripping down my thighs, damp and flushed as I move my legs further apart to let him slide more closely behind me. He stroked one hand over the curve of my butt before he drew back his hand and swatted me. I was more surprised than hurt, the slight sting of his palm print vividly red against the pale skin of my butt.

I gasped, rocking forward.

“Color, baby,” he reminded me.

“Green, very green,” I said, voice muffled in the sheets as I clench my hands.

He slapped my butt again, not any harder, but this time on the other cheek for a matching handprint. I bit down on my hand to smother my desperate whines. He didn’t go any further, just lined himself up and slowly sunk back into me, my pussy clenching around him as if to suck him in further.

He slipped a hand around my waist, his fingers dropping to rest over my clit. Not a lot of pressure, just a teasing stroke as he began to pick up his pace. He held on to my hip with his other hand, controlling our rhythm.

I groaned, my face turned to the side as I tried to breath through the sensitivity. I hardly ever went through the effort of multiple orgasms when it was just by myself, and I felt a little rusty. I bit my lip in stifled amusement at the thought, though I caught him tilting his head as he watched me, the slap of our flesh getting a little louder. 

“So good,” I whispered, allowing myself to sync into the feeling of his body against mine, the heat of his skin, the thickness of his cock slipping deeper into my body. I shivered, a little tired and sore, but the ache seemed to heighten the slow deluge of pleasure.

“One more time, honey,” Xavier murmured gently behind me, his hips smoothly rolling forward, sinking into me. I was so wet, the slick glide of our bodies audible in the otherwise quiet bedroom. 

“I-I can’t,” I said, tear tracks still damp on my cheeks. Almost as if mesmerized, he stretched out on top of me, leaning down to press along my back, licking tenderly at the tears of pleasure still dripping down my face. 

He braced himself over my back, his hips still pumping, and I could feel the soft skin of his testicles brushing my ass each time he bottomed out. He was sticky with my orgasm, the scent of my body and my pleasure filling the room. He inhaled deeply, eyes like midnight, pupils blown in pleasure. He tweaked one of my nipples playfully, before pinching it harder a second time.

“You can, I know you can,” he answered, his voice whispery soft and seductive. 

“No,” I whimpered. “I really can’t.” But I clenched around his cock, wet and needy and sore. I needed more. As if uncontrollably, he fucked me harder, deeper, groaning as I caught him off guard. 

I realized what had set him off, and I hid my grin as I turned my face briefly away from him. I gave a faint struggle, whispering a soft “green”, before I raised my voice.

“No, Xavier, please, I’m too sore. I can’t,” I cried, letting out a little sob as tears welled in my eyes a little more. I could feel the sheets under my cheek growing damp. I struggled as if to try to pull away from him, twisting and reaching forward towards the headboard with one hand. 

He growled, a flush spreading down his chest as I felt him get impossibly harder inside of me. Gods. I’d never done anything like this before, but I was so turned on, I could feel my thighs stained with my slick. 

“No, don’t,” I said, struggling a little harder, my hands scrabbling for purchase against the mattress. He gripped my hips so hard, I knew I’d probably have bruises in the shape of his fingertips, and fuck, it was so deliciously bad. He stretched out on top of me, pressing me deeper into the mattress now, gripping my wrists in one hand.

“Take it, baby, I know you can handle it.” He nipped my earlobe hard before sucking it into his mouth, laving his tongue around the shell of my ear. He had me pinned down, splayed underneath him, and finally let go.

He fucked me hard, losing any gentleness he had remaining. I cried out, my body quivering from the bombardment, sensitive and on fire. He angled so deep I could feel him tight and hard, and I was stuffed full. 

“Ah, ah, ah-” I panted with each thrust, my voice muffled as I pressed the side of my face into the mattress. He wrapped one arm under my waist, holding me tightly against him as he abruptly lifted one knee, my leg hooked around his, changing the angle until…

I sparked, spasming around his cock, squealing as I felt a release of fluid. I screamed into the mattress with my orgasm, tears gushing from my eyes as I cried out over and over. I could feel the warmth between our bodies as I squirted in pleasure, and a groan rumbled through his chest when he felt it. 

I felt him lose his rhythm just as I started coming down, becoming more jerky until he pulled away, fisting his cock a few more pumps to jet his release on my back. I sighed with a small ‘ah’ as I felt the heat of his come in stripes along my skin. He moaned, head lolling to watch with narrowed eyes filled with pleasure as he aimed the last of his release on one of the handprints on my ass. 

I sprawled bonelessly on the bed, dazed, while he slumped next to me, both of us panting. I shivered, the last vestiges of my multiple - incredible - orgasms rocketing through my body before I finally started to settle. He breathed deeply, his cock slowly softening against his belly as we lay in complete disarray on his bed.

“Wow,” I murmured, voice husky and strained after screaming through multiple climaxes. 

He nodded before turning his head to look at me, one hand reaching for mine where it rested limply on the bed. He lifted my hand, brushing a tender kiss along the knuckles.

“You are so beautiful,” he answered, his voice also raspy with a post-orgasmic glow. 

I blushed, a silly response considering this man had already licked my ass, fingered me to orgasm and then blew my literal mind with the best sex I had ever had, but his sweetness never failed to catch me off guard. 

“You are too,” I said shyly, half burying my face into the bed and grinning as I watched his face, now relaxed, curve briefly with a small smile. He kissed my hand again before he groaned a little, rolling off the bed to his feet.

I chuckled, not daring to move with all of the fluid still dotting my back. “You sound like an old man,” I said, missing the look he darted my way. He stretched, rotating his shoulders as he stood unconcernedly nude, both of our fluids smeared across his belly. He reached for the towel at the end of the bed and wiped my back gently to remove the traces of his come, before he casually swiped it over his cock.

“If you have the energy, we can wash up,” he said calmly. 

“And then a nap?” I asked hopefully.

“And then definitely a nap.”

[the-avengers-not-the-nazis]

Bad moon rising III

Summary: After a nasty divorce, you and your family are forced to live with your Grandpa in the lovely notorious Santa Carla, California. Filled with punks, geeks, surfer nazis and apparently all kinds of creatures of the night.

Word count: 3.7k

Poly!Lost boys x Emerson!reader

[1] [2] [3] [4]

A/n: This chapter will have a brief mention of SA, so this is your warning! But, don’t worry because we kick ass, literally. I also love this chapter, because it does go a bit more into the boys protectiveness and yours and theirs feelings for one another. So please in joy:)

You awoke groggily the next morning. 

Staying up late the night before at the boardwalk did not mix in well with your normal sleeping routine. Sun filtered through the blinds, the light casting a glow throughout your bedroom. You lightly stirred awake, tugging on the itchy sheets to keep last of your sleep from wandering away. 

“Y/n?” A voice called out from behind the closed door. “Sam and I’ve made breakfast, if your hungry.”

A muffled ‘ok’ surpassed your lips, the sound of your mother’s footsteps fading from your door. You reluctantly got out of bed, your pajama shirt that you may or may not have taken from Micheal’s closet rested loosely around your hips, the waist of your shirts twisted around your body from last nights sleep. 

Glancing around your room, you took in the multitude of box’s that littered the ground. Each having different labels from t-shirt and underwear all the way to cd’s and band posters. You knew that you’d have to empty the boxes at one point, and not fish through everything just to find a clean pair of socks.

You slowly walked out of your room, careful not to roll an ankle stepping over a box of shoes. The floor was cold against your bare feet, causing a soft chill to run through your body as you made your way down the stairs. 

Soft clinking of silverware and scraping plates met your ears as you rounded the stairs railing. Sam, Micheal and mom came into view, each of them sitting around the dining table, their breakfast either already eaten or halfway gone. 

Your gave them each a morning greeting, mom receiving a politer one than either of your brothers. Upon entering the kitchen, you made a quick plate, filled with plenty of eggs and bacon to keep your hunger subsided for a couple of hours. 

You returned back to the dining room, sitting next to Micheal. Mom and Sam sat on the opposite side, a single plate pulled with just bacon and a glass of orange juice sat at the head of the table. Definitely Grandpas. 

Though, where the old man currently was, is beyond you. 

As you start to eat your breakfast with your family, the gentle noise from outside passing as conversation for now. Mom let out an appealed hum, mouth stuffed with her own cooking, hand coming up to cover her mouth as she began to speak. 

“I forgot to tell you guys,” Voice slightly muffled by her hand. “I already found a job for myself.”

You slowed your eating, glancing between your brothers and mother. “Already?” You asked, lightly stabbing the yellow bit of egg. “We’ve been here less than a day, how have you got a job?”

Mom lowered her hand, smile still evident on her face. “Yes, well, last night at the boardwalk, I met a fine man who offered me a job at his store.”

“Fine man?” Micheal echoed, leaning back in his chair. “We don’t have to expect him around the house, will we?”

“No, no.” She waved off. “He is just a sweet man, who happened to notice someone in need of work.”

You shared a quick glance at Micheal, not entirely certain if the guy was just looking out for a stranger or more. Sam, on the other hand, was estatic for mom. Talking with a mouthful of his breakfast. “That’s great, mom. And, just think, when you get your first check, we can buy a TV.”

Micheal rolled his eyes at his brothers sudden accusation, you held back a smile. Remembering the conversation from yesterday about having no MTV to watch here at grandpas. 

“We can’t spend our money on entertainment, Sam. We have help pay for food and bills, we can’t just live off of grandpa forever.” She told him, taking a quick sip of her orange juice. “Besides, a video store will not pay that much on the first check.”

“Your working at a video store?” You asked, even though she had just told you the answer to your question. 

She gave a soft nod, standing up from the table with her plate and drink in hand. “Yes, unfortunately. It was the only thing that I could find in such short notice.” She then walked out of the dining room, leaving you with your brothers. 

Sam looked between you and Micheal, a sad look on his face. “My god,” he muttered, leaning back in his chair with defeat. “We’re going to be living in the streets by the end of the summer.”

You kicked him beneath the table, earning a pained noise to pass his lips. 

After breakfast, you returned back upstairs, gently closing your bedroom door behind you. Kicking an empty box out of your way as you sat down on your bed. Out of the corner of your eye, the sun bounced off of a square object, the light shining in your face. 

Turning in the direction, you eyed the cd from last night. The same one that the bleach blonde slipped into your back pocket. Reaching over, you picked up the object, twisting it around in your hand as you read the song listings for the cd. 

You pondered with the disk in hand, gently tapping it against your palm as you eyed your cd player. A pair of headphones hung on top of the device, eagerly waiting to be played. 

A tired sigh passing your lips as you opened the plastic case. You weren’t one to judge people’s music, often giving each genre a try before making a conclusion on it. But, stolen music was something that’d you’d happily judge. 

Placing the disk into the appropriate slot, you pressed play on the cd player. The music played through the headphones, the padded material fitting snug against your ears. You laid out on your bed, letting the music calm you, despite the punk metal flowing through your head.

You hadn’t seen the four boys over the past week at the boardwalk. Well, you did see them, anyone could see them. But, they were always driving away on their bikes or terrifying some tourists that got to close to them. 

You also didn’t know what to say to them, it wasn’t like you were friends with any of them. So, you just stuck to the side when they would get too close or change directions entirely, not wanting to be noticed by the leatherback motorcyclists.

But, you were noticed.

They knew when you were near, and they knew when you would hide away in a random shop when they’d passed by. To them it was hilarious, this girl that they’d barley known was doing everything in her power to keep herself hidden from them.

It wasn’t like it was something new to them, plenty of people dodged their presence when around them. Often, giving them a clear path to walk along the boardwalk. 

Though, whenever they would catch the sweet odor of your perfume, or the soft beating of your heart. Their feet would follow after you, trailing a good distance behind to not alarm you of their presence. 

And it was like they couldn’t stop when they would catch your smell in a crowd. 

It was something deep down that made them follow after you, something deep within their cold body’s that tethered them with you. They all felt it, that odd pull when one of them would spot you. But, none of them would speak out loud about it, not knowing how to ask what it was or why it was you. 

They just knew that the pull they’d fell would softly strengthen itself they closer they were to you. And a small part of them was curious of what it could mean. 

You watched as the sun lowered itself behind the crashing waves of the ocean, soft pinks and purples mixing in with the night sky before it turns black. It was always mesmerizing how the sun would move so quickly, yet slowly throughout the day. Beginning and ending just as it had started, beautifuly.

The railing from the boardwalk dug into your forearms as you leaned against it, a peaceful feeling scorching through your body at the sight before you. You knew you’d have to leave soon, you promised mom that you’d be back before dinner. 

Pulling yourself from the deck, you made your way over to the stairs leading down to the beach. Straps of your bag digging into your shoulders, as the weight of your items shifted. The only reason that you had brought the thing was because you’d wished to open your wallet a bit more tonight. 

A couple of happy’s for your family and yourself. As well as your house keys, wallet and Walkman. (For when you get bored.)

The sand inched itself into the crevices of your soles, no doubt something that mom would get on to you about if you track any kind of grime into the house. 

You could have just walked along the boardwalk, but you were growing a bit tired of the over packed people crowding around you. Too many sweaty bodies, and far too many noises. So, a nice walk along the beach would be the perfect way to end the night. 

A small fire came into view, the light casting a soft glow around a group of kids that surrounded it. You didn’t recognize them. Not that you’d recognize a whole lot of people with only being in town for a total of two weeks, but still. Loud music came from the group, shouts and laughter erupting the quiet atmosphere of the beach. 

You kept your focus away from the group, not wanting to disturb their own fun. Keeping a far away distance to not draw any attention towards yourself. Though that seems to be the opposite of tonight’s plans. 

A sharp whistle came from the group, dragging you out of your peace. 

You glanced over at the bonfire, stopping momentarily in the sand. They were a lot closer to you than the fire itself, maybe a few feet away than the couple of yards they were previously at. 

“Where you running off to on such a nice night, babe?” One of them asked, his voice slur like. The nickname didn’t roll off his tongue like Paul’s did the other night, no, instead it came off forced and disoriented. Almost like the name was just a way to try and sweet talk you. 

“Home.” You told him bluntly, taking slow but deliberant steps away from them. 

An airy chuckle came from a different guy, “What a coincidence, so are we.”

“Please don’t follow me.” You said over your shoulder, picking up your pace when you realized that they were starting to follow you. 

“Why not, you look like you could use the company.”

You didn’t give a response, instead kept your head forward, ignoring the calls that they continued to ring out. “C’mon, beautiful, this a way to treat a gentleman?”

An hand gripped your arm, yanking you back into the imbrace of a body. Two strong arms wrapped around your waist keeping you tightly in his hold. “I was fuckin’ talking to ya.” He told you, the smell of his intoxicated breath making you gag. 

He pulled you closer to the fire, dragging your body as you kicked and refused to allow him to take you to their spot. The other guys had brutish smiles on their faces, finding the situation as a pleasant form of entertainment for them.

One of the men snatched your bag off your shoulders, tossing it near the bonfire as a couple dug through your possessions. “Let me fucking go!” You shouted, arms and legs kicking out at anyone who got close. Your sudden movements caused the guys grip on you to slip, your feet finally planting firmly on the ground.

You twisted out of the guys hold, his arms still wrapped tightly around your waist. And, out of a flurry of emotions, you raised your dominant arm, reeling it back before your fist connected with his nose. Hard. 

A sharp crunch came from the man’s nose, and something warm and wet coated your knuckles as you pulled your fist back. The man let out a pained groan, his hands cupping his nose as blood dripped from between his fingers. 

“God! Fuckin’! Dammit!” He shouted, words coming out choppy and rushed as he struggled to breath properly through his nostrils. “Look what you fucking did, you bitch!”

You bit your toungue, fighting off a smug smile. Now is really not the time to play around with these guys, but, you knew it felt good to punch him. The tiny bag of dicks deserved it. “I can see.” You told him taking a small step back from the supposed leader of the group. “And it looks like a shitty nose job, if you ask me.”

“You broke my fucking nose!” He was beyond pissed, anyone with an eye could see that. He pointed a finger at you, blood dripping from the tip. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

God, this guy has a nasty mouth on him. He gets punched one time and it’s all fucking this and fucking that. His mama needs to teach himself some manners. 

You opened you mouth to tell him, ready to snatch your bag back and take off towards grandpas, when a reflective object caught your eye. Glancing over at the man’s hand you saw a knife clutched tightly in his right hand, his fist slightly shaking for how hard his grip was. 

Holy shit. 

He really is gonna kill you. 

Turning swiftly on your foot, you tried to manuver out of the outstretched hands grabbing at you. Sprinting on the sand, you felt as the tiny rocks slowed you down. Everytime you pushed off, your foot slowly sank down into the beach’s bay. 

Holy shit. 

A hand gripped your hair, tight. Your scalp burning as you get yanked back and thrown down on the ground. A yelp slipped past your lips when your upper body hits the floor, the air vacating your lungs. 

You tried to lift your body up, tried to run, tried to scream for help. But, there were suddenly hands everywhere, holding you down on your back, arms and legs pinned down as the man you’d punched leaned over you. 

“You know,” he started, twisting his knife in his palm. “It’d be a real shame for me to fuck up your face, because, well, you sure do got a pretty one.” He trailed his hand over your face, blood trailing behind as he did so. 

“Burn in fucking hell!” You shouted, putting as much strength as you could muster to try  and shove off the ones holding you down. 

A nasty sneer rested on his lips, “But such a shitty attitude, maybe I’ll cut off your tongue, you know, keep you quiet for once.”

The guy pinning down your left arm looked up at the man, slight concern bubbling across his features. “Hughie, yer not actually gonna cut ‘er, right-“

“Shut the hell up!” Hughie shouted at the man, knife pointed dangerously close to his face. “Just shut up.”

He turned back towards you, the knife dropping down to his side as glared down at you. “I ain’t gonna cut the bitch.”

You felt air enter your body, feeling slightly better about the situation now knowing he isn’t actually gonna use the knife. But, you still didn’t know what he was gonna do with you. 

“No, well just take her shitty bag, and I want just a little pay back for the nose.” Hughie brought his index and thumb close together. 

You watched with wide eyes as he walked around you, stopping at the top of your head, kicking just a little bit of sand in your face as he did so. “Fucking slut.” He muttered, before he raised his leg and the heel of his boot came down hard on your face. 

David sat on top of his motorcycle, the kickstand holding him steady as he puffed on his cigarette. The sun had set about an hour ago, the night fresh and just starting. They had plenty of time to scope out the crowd and find their next meal. 

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Paul and Marko sweet talking a group of ladies. They’d be nice for a snack, David thought. The sent of their blood flooding his senses, but, they’d need just a little more to actually fill them up. 

Dwayne leaned against the wooden railing, keeping a steady eye on those who wander too close to him and his brothers. Anyone that catches his eye would immediately steer themselves in a different direction. 

The smell of your blood drifted around the group, drawing Paul and Marko away from the group of girls and back over to their brothers. Your blood was a lot stronger than usual tonight, they noticed. It was more out in the open than what they’d usually smell around you. 

Paul was the first to notice you, a smile spreading across his face. “Hey, babe.” He drawled, watching as you came into view of the group. “Where you been lately?”

Though you didn’t stop to acknowledge them, in fact you seemed to walk faster to try and past them. It was slightly uncharacteristic of you, no snarky comment or a roll of your eyes. To say they missed it was an understatement. 

One by one, they each stepped away from their bikes, sauntering over to your fleeting form. The smell of your blood grew stronger and stronger the closer they got to you, the reminder that they need to eat picking at the back of their minds. 

Marko reached you first, gently pulling at your arm to catch your attention. “Hey, beautiful, where you been all week?” Though, you shrugged off his hand, barley giving him a glance as you tried to push through the crowd. 

He furrowed his brows, slightly confused at your demeanor. The first time you’ve met you’d snapped at him for trying to take a silly vinyl, and now you wouldn’t even spare him a second of your attention. 

Even when they’d see you out on the boardwalk, you’d always glance up at them, meeting at least one of their eyes before scurrying in a different direction. 

He quickly glanced at the others, silently asking them what to do. 

David brushed by his brother, understanding him without either having to open their mouths. He took long purposeful strides, the sounds of the others following right behind floated up to his ears. In no time, David was at your side. Gloved fingers wrapping around your forearm, as he spun you around to face them. 

A witty comment danced on the edge of his tongue, the sudden impulse to hear a snarky remark fall from your lips egged him on. Though, what he sa made his thoughts stand still. 

Bruises were found all around your face. A few rested along your jawline and cheekbones, but, the biggest of them all was the one on your right eye. The skin slightly puffed around the eyeball, making it hard to see clearly from that side. 

A dark red was slowly but steadily seeping from your bottom lip, the sticky liquid had had found its way to the collar of your shirt. The fabric had caused the blood to spread across the top. 

That explains the smell of blood. 

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over onto your cheeks. Your breaths became labored, short intakes and outtakes, eyes darting past the four men to your surroundings. 

David placed both hands on your face, the feeling of his gloved fingers against your skin oddly calmed you. You placed your own hands against his wrist gently trying to tug them away, though, his grip didn’t seem to loosen. 

“Let me go.” You said in a hoarse voice, the sound of it made an odd feeling stir in the pit of the boys stomachs. 

You hadn’t even realized that the rest of the boys had surrounded the two of you. Each eyeing the small marks that littered across your face with hidden emotion. 

Paul had reached forward grasping your hand in his, eyes trailing across the hills of your knuckles. A faint coat of blood was slowly drying itself up, blood that wasn’t your own. The blonde gently showed your hand to the others, discreetly eyeing each of them, a silent conversation threading itself through the air. 

A weak sniffle sounded from you, mindlessly dragging their thoughts back to the fact that you were here right infront of them. “Can I please just go home?” You asked, voice wavering with emotion. 

One by one they each gave a chorus of, ‘of course’ or just a simple nod. Paul released your hand, not before wiping a small trail of blood onto the pad of his finger. Keeping the scent with them as you left. 

David pulled his hands away from your face, the cold touch lingering on your warm skin. They watched as you pushed through the crowd, hand gently pressing against someone’s lower back as you pass by them. An eerie tick crawled its way to the back of David’s mind, something unsettling and terrifying. 

And it didn’t seem to mix well with the need to feed. 

David glanced over at Dwayne, giving him a quick nod. The brunette mirrored his brother, neither having to open they’re mouth before he distantly trailed after you. Getting lost in the crowd just as you had. 

Now just the three blondes were left in the boardwalk. Paul was softly bouncing on his feet unpatiently awaiting for David’s orders. Marko stood beside his brothers, fingers twitching at the sudden need to sink his fists and fangs into someone. 

The faint smell of the assholes blood filtered through their noses, a soft trail leading through the crowds. Without glancing back at the terror twins, David signaled towards the bikes. The three of them straddles their own Motorcycles, Dwayne’s would just have to stay at the boardwalk until they get back. 

They revved their engines, the loud noise drawing attention of nearby locals. Though, tonight, the people’s attention was the last thing that they were trying to capture. 

“Boys,” David spoke over the rumble of the bikes. “Let’s eat.”

A/a/n: Ok, so, if anyone of confused by the ending, the boys went out to basically kill the surfer nazis. And, Dwayne went to make sure you got home safe before joining his brothers. Also, I felt like the ending was a bit rushed, because I haven’t posted in like a week or something. But, let me tell you that this chapter has been 90% done the whole time. I was just lazy to finish the other 10%. But, let me know what you guys think ;)

@mrstargayen09

[aaizawashouta]

Delicate

pairing: aizawa shouta x fem!reader

word count: 1.1k

summary: sometimes you just need to be taken care of

warnings: just fluff. reader has long hair.

a/n: this is so self indulgent. i don't even care.

Something is wrong the moment the door opens. Actually, something has been wrong since 1:28 p.m. when you didn’t respond to his text message. You never leave him on read, even on your busiest days. Shouta listens as the door locks behind you, as you slide your shoes off your feet. His eyebrows raise when your bag drops to the floor with an echoing thud. His gaze follows you as you amble to your shared bedroom where you disappear out of sight.

It’s silent as he stands in the kitchen, cup of tea in hand. Brows no longer raised, but furrowed. Only slightly relieved when he hears the bath water running. He knows it when he sees it—half the time it’s from his own reflection. Odd being on the other end. Very rarely, if ever, do you get burnt out. Worn down, exhausted, dead on your feet. It never matters, that’s just how you are. But there are times, like today. Shouta sighs, leaving his tea to go cold before trailing after you.

You stand next to the tub staring as you wait for the water to warm up. You’ve got your bra, panties, and one sock on. Your fingers dance under the faucet. It’s been a long day. The only thing that’s kept you going is the man you left in the kitchen. You rub at your chest, pain scraping along your ribcage. Your heart rattles for the comfort only your husband can bring you. It’s not fair, you know that. There’s no way you want him to see you like this. Your temper flares as you think of the prick who ruined your day.

The door opens silently. So caught up in your frustrations you don’t feel the presence of Shouta until cool fingers are wrapping around the back of your neck. You start, turning to look at him over your shoulder. His eyebrows are raised as he takes you in; a peculiar expression on his face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You never jump.” He murmurs before shaking his head.

You follow without a thought, no fuss even though you frown when he pulls you into him. Skilled fingers undoing the clasp at your back. The tension leaves you when Shouta drops to his knees before you. His warm breath against your skin causes goosebumps to erupt. Always so responsive, even to the little things. But that’s not what this is about, not what you need. Shouta peels your underwear down your legs. Teeth digging into your lip to keep yourself from giggling when he pulls off your sock.

A heat spreads through you. Warm and comforting. No, this doesn’t happen often. Where you’re unsure of yourself, overworked, and burnt out. But as you watch him, Shouta, your Shouta, your husband. The one person you never have to hide from. He knows you better than you know yourself, sometimes it’s downright terrifying. He sees you for everything you are and everything you’re not. You feel silly now, trying to hide yourself away from him.

The atmosphere in the bathroom changes then. Shouta gives you a soft smile accompanied by a kiss to your inner thigh. He doesn’t say anything; doesn’t have to. Getting to his feet he moves to the cabinet and grabs your favorite scent of bathing oil. Your bottom lip wobbles a bit. He kisses your forehead as he helps you into the tub. You can’t bite back the moan that escapes you. Your muscles have been coiled so tight all day. The warm water is a welcome balm. Tilting your head back you watch him as he drags the stool over closer to where you are. Shouta gives you a wink, sitting down before pulling your hair out of your face.

It’s silent in the small bathroom, comfortably so. The only sounds coming from Shouta’s hands dipping into the water as he washes your hair. It’s the most relaxed you’ve felt in weeks. Who knew the weight of the world would come crashing down off your shoulders on a Wednesday afternoon? But was it really? Blunt nails scratch at your scalp and you sink a little further into the water. What’s a rough day when you can come home to this?

Your lips tilt up, Shouta’s voice cutting through the silence, your name floating with the steam from the tub. A soft hum of acknowledgment is all he receives.

“Are you going to tell me what happened today?”

A wet shoulder raises and falls, water rippling around you. You stare at your feet, wiggling your blue polished toes.

“There’s a guy at work who’s gunning for my position.”

His hands pause. “You have relations with every hero in the city.”

“I know. It’s not like my position is up for grabs or anything. He’s just a real piece of work. Drives me up a damn wall.” It’s silent for a moment, you sigh. “He’s a misogynist, doesn’t think I’m qualified.”

You can feel Shouta’s glare. Never one to fight your battles, you’re good at doing that yourself. That’s not to say your husband isn’t protective of you.

“Should I stop by for a visit at lunch tomorrow?”

You can’t help but laugh. “I don’t even think he knows what my last name is.”

Shaking your head with a small sigh. You have to admit you do feel better after talking. But you don’t want to talk about it anymore. You don’t want to waste any more of your time on it. That’s tomorrow’s problem. Tilting your head back, you look up at Shouta who looks down his nose at you. Dark eyes swirling with adoration and amusement. He raises an eyebrow when you reach up and tug on his dark locks.

“Will you read to me?”

“I can. Anything in particular?”

“No, just want to hear your voice is all.”

Shouta hums, rinsing out your hair one final time before drawing out the water and letting it hang over the tub behind you. His footsteps are quiet as he leaves the bathroom, only to return a few moments later. The sound of pages turning makes your eyes fall shut. You give it maybe another five minutes before the water runs cold, or you turn into a prune.

“You’re going to have to let me return the favor, Sho.”

“Not tonight sweet girl.”

Your toes curl at the term of endearment. Sinking a little farther into the tub, you doze off lightly in the comfort of your home, and the warmth of your favorite person wrapping around you with every word he reads.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hi, I hope you're having a good week!

If you feel up to it, could you a Dick Grayson x Dom M!reader?

I have two options I really like...

1. While Dick Grayson and R(reader) are sparring and due to the Reader being rough with pinning and tackling. Dick gets pushed into sub space.

2. Dick is undercover for a mission, where he has to keep an eye on the target (Reader). He has to make sure the reader dosent leave the nightclub. What Dick didn't expect was the reader starting to flirt with Dick, not only that, but the flirting was actually making Dick flustered.

You can make either of these has less or more sumtty has you see fit ^w^

Dick Grayson x male reader

Headcanons

Is it here I should tell yall I love writing about characters going into subspace, and being cared for when under. Reader is a fellow hero in this.

-          You and Dick have been dating for a while, enough that you have both explored the dom/sub dynamic a few times, at least enough times that it made a connection in Dicks brain, that you are a safe person to enter subspace around and give himself over.

-          It had been a very long and exhausting week, in both day jobs and night jobs for the both of you, and you hadn’t been able to spend much time together except for sleeping in each other’s arms.

-          You could easily tell that Dick was on edge and tense, his entire body wound tight, and he was snippier than usual. He was already frustrated when you both got to one of the league gyms, which you could see in the way he ground his jaw and clenched and unclenched his hands.

-          He was wearing a pair of compressions shorts that stopped just above his knees, a tank top, white socks, a pair of shoes that had seen better days and one of those bands you wrap around your upper arm to hold your phone so you can listen to music.

-          You had been lifting when he entered the gym, his walk tense and hands clenched by his sides. He had his earbuds in, so he didn’t seem to notice you greeting him. He didn’t even stretch before getting to work, going to the pullup bars, and going at it.

 -          You watched him work out for a while, watching how he only seemed to drive himself further up the wall with the annoyed grunts he let out as he lifted himself up further than he needed for a pullup.

-          Placing what you had been using back down on the floor, you brushed off your hands and debated on taking off the gloves you were wearing to lift, but decided to leave them on. You knew Dick loved them, and if that’s what he needed to be taken out of his head then so be it.

-          Sauntering over you gave him enough time to notice you approaching, and normally he would have sensed your presence quickly, but he seemed stuck in his head.

-          So when you wrapped your arm around his tiny waist and help him from doing another pullup, he let out a noise and quickly flipped his head to check who was grabbing him.

-          When he saw it was you he relaxed just a little, releasing a shaky breath as he flicked his head, knocking one of his earbuds out and asking what you wanted. His temper was quite short today it seemed, as he squared his jaw and waited impatiently for your answer.

-          “I think you need to take a break Dick” you tell him. Now, comments like this never worked in making any of your friends or coworker relax, ever. But that was the point, it was to drive Dick up the wall even more so you could make him want to get more physical.

 -          He squared his jaw in a way that truly reminded you of Batman as he snapped that he didn’t need a break, and when he tried to return to his pullups you held him in place, sneaking a hand up under his tank top and pinching his hip.

-          Dick yelped as you pinched him, on instinct kicking out behind him at the flare of feeling, but you were quick to catch his leg and give him a teasing grin when he glared down at you. “Stop” he hissed, and you could tell you almost had him where you wanted him.

-          Quirking a brow, you slid your hand further up his shirt. When your hand reached his pec, his glare became thunderous, and any other time you might have withdrawn and stepped away, but you knew there wasn’t any real heat behind it.

-          Making sure his eyes were locked with yours, and that he was paying attention to what you were doing, you dug your fingers into his nipple and gave it a rough pinch and twist.

-          Dick let out a high choked noise, his thighs clamping together tightly as he tried to force down the moan you knew wanted to escape his mouth.

-          Flicking the now hard nipple once or twice, you withdrew from your partner and stepped back. He was quick to drop down from the bars, turning to you with a glare and slightly flustered cheeks.

-          Giving him another teasing smirk and quirked brow, you made your way towards the sparring mats that were in the room, opening your arms at him as if challenging him.

 -          Dick was so frustrated from the day and hot from your touches that he quickly charged over, not caring one bit that he was supposed to be a serious and well thought vigilante, something in his chest just want to throw you around or test your boundaries.

-          That’s how you two ended up sparring, and on any normal day Dick could probably have overpowered you or you would have been an equal match, but today because Dick was already unsteady on his feet from the past few days, he was having a hard time keeping up.

-          As he was tackled and pinned to the floor, the edges of his consciousness grew slightly fuzzy, the tense and prickly feeling in his chest loosening just a little. He tried his best to stay focused, bucking you off and trying to take you down again.

-          But as you kept pinning him down and tackling him, holding him tightly against the rubber mats and pinning his arms above his head or behind his back, his mind grew foggier and warmer. His muscles grew less tense, even as he staggered to his feet.

-          You could tell he was still trying to fight against the warm fluffy headspace his mind wanted to go to, so when he tried to throw himself at you, you quickly pinned him to the floor.

-          He met the floor with his chest, and before he could do much you had hooked an arm around his throat and tightened it just enough to cut off some of his breathing. The feeling he had tried to fight against just seemed to multiply at your rough touch, his hands coming up and patting at your arm uselessly.

 -          Dick kicked out his legs to try and shake you off, but he was sluggish and slow. You leant in and talked softly to him, praising him, and telling him to just let go, that he had been strong for so long and that you would take care of him, and he was your good boy, he just needed to be reminded of that.

-          Finally, the fight seemed to melt right out of him, his body going limp and his hands softly holding onto your arm as you loosened the chokehold enough for Dick to catch his breath.

-          He whined and moaned softly as he gasped for breath, his mind completely fuzzy and filled with wool. You carefully turned him over, keeping him pressed against you as you made sure he was completely okay.

-          Dicks eyes were unfocused but so soft, his mouth was slightly open as he panted and made quiet noises, his hands coming up to grip softly onto the front of your shirt. You could feel he was hard against your thigh, but that wasn’t that he needed right now.

-          Dick keened when you leant down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, his eyes fluttering shut as you peppered kisses all over his face until your lips met his own. His noises grew louder as he let your tongue plunder his mouth, putting up no fight as you took what you wanted from him.

-          Resting him down against the sparring mats, you slipped your hands up his shirt and started playing with his chest, his noises becoming louder and slurred as he seemed to fall even further into the warmth of subspace.

 -          When you could tell he was completely under you removed your hands from his shirt much to Dicks displeasure, soft whines leaving him as you gathered him in your arms.

-          He didn’t need anything like that tonight, he just needed to be allowed to float away from the stress and pain of your daily lives as heroes and to be taken care of.

-          So, taking one of the hallways with least cameras and that was used very little by others, you brought Dick back to the room you had been given at the league tower. Dick was drifting off against your shoulder, letting out quiet noises every now and then as you walked because your movement made his crotch brush against your stomach.

-          Back in your room you carefully cleaned Dick up with some wet wipes as you couldn’t bring him to the showers at this time, got him dressed in some of your clothes, and crawled into bed with him.

-          You spent the rest of the time watching something on your tv as Dick laid dozing in and out of sleep, his hands still gripping onto your shirt as you ran one of your own hands through his hair.

-          Dick felt like he was melted against your torso, his body growing so heavy as he felt so comfortable here with you, all thoughts of getting off having left his mind the moment you had placed him in your bed and cuddled him.

-          You let Dick spend all the time he needed in subspace, holding, kissing, and praising him quietly until he fell asleep. You knew you’d have to have a conversation about communicating when he needed you to bring him down, since you didn’t want to have to do it through sparring every time, but that could wait for now.

[separatist-apologist]

The Sweetest Con

Summary: Nesta Archeron has been trapped in witness protection for the past five years, hiding a secret no one can ever learn. All she has to do is wait out the criminals back home determined to punish her and her sisters for a lie they told years before.

She can handle anything- even the new agent sent to keep her safe.

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Nesta woke with a start to frosted windows and her ankle tied to a bedpost. “CASSIAN!” she screamed, voice hoarse from disuse.

“No need to shout,” he replied, sitting in a leather chair by an unlit fireplace. “I’ve been here the entire time.”

He had his wounded leg propped up on an ottoman. Shirtless, Cassian had on a pair of loose black basketball shorts and a pair of ankle socks, and his thigh was wrapped in a clean, white bandage. A prick of guilt slithered through her that she couldn’t quite banish despite what he’d done in response. Maybe they were even, she reasoned.

Or maybe he was a bastard who’d infiltrated her hidden life and now had her tied to a bed.

“Untie me,” she ordered, heart hammering in her chest.

Cassian cocked his head, dark hair spilling over broad, tattooed shoulders. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” “I’ll kill you,” she snapped.

He laughed. “You could have killed me days ago and you didn’t. You can’t kill me anymore than you can leave me, Nes. You know it.”

Looking up at the ceiling, Nesta reconsidered all her life choices. “Not killing you doesn’t mean I want to be with you.” “I assumed you wanted to be with me when I bent you over the kitchen table,” he deadpanned in response. 

“Let me go.”

He shrugged. “Okay. But there’s nowhere to run, Nes.”

“I’m not going—”

“Do me the favor of not lying to me,” he replied.

“Oh? Like you did?” she snapped in frustration. Cassian’s eyes widened ever so slightly, his guilt plain. “When did you decide you weren’t going to kill me?”

“Fuck, Nes, I was never planning to kill you. Ever.”

“Bullshit. Rhys sent you—”

“To keep tabs, that’s all. He wants your sister and she wants to be reunited with you and Elain. I was just watching until it was time to bring you back. I never had orders to kill you.” Nesta didn’t know how much of that she believed, despite the almost pained look on his face.

“And if he called you right now–”

“Christ, Nesta,” Cassian exploded, wincing as he rose to his feet. “Is it that difficult to believe I prefer you alive?”

“It’s difficult to believe you wouldn’t betray me if your boss told you to,” she sneered, heart racing. Nesta knew the truth—knew Cassian was no better than every other man she’d ever been with. They had no loyalty to her, and Cassian would betray her for his friends if they asked. All men did. 

Cassian untied the rope against her ankle, leaving Nesta to scramble to her feet, furious with him. She’d prove she was right. “I told the lie.”

Cassian sucked in a sharp breath. “What lie?”

Was he stupid? “The lie, Cassian. It was me—all my idea, my plan, my lie. I told Feyre to blame the murder on Rhys, I told the police it was him. This is all my fault. Does your precious Rhysand know that? Did you?”

Cassian took a breath, and then another. “So?”

Nesta blinked. “What?” “So fucking what, Nesta?” Cassian replied, crossing his arms over his naked chest. “Rhys thinks Feyre told the lie and you know what he’s doing right now?”

Nesta was too afraid to speak, to swallow the pooling saliva in her mouth. 

“He’s probably fucking her—”

“Don’t talk about her that way!” 

“No one cares about the goddamn lie, Nesta!” Cassian exploded, temper getting the better of him. “Did you think it would change my mind? Your father was a bastard—”

“Don’t talk about him that way, either!” she yelled back, not disagreeing with him. She merely wanted to fight him—if he’d told her his name was Cassian she’d have disagreed with him simply on principle. Nesta wanted to see how far she could push him before he inevitably backed off. Before he realized he wanted a fantasy and the woman beneath was no prize, nothing special. No one worth chasing across the country or obsessing over the way he was. 

“He was,” Cassian snarled as he stalked forward. “He would have done the same to you—would have traded you to someone worse if it suited him. What kind of father—”

Nesta slapped him. “Don’t,” she warned him, unable to listen to Cassian defend her. 

“Did it feel good to see his body?” Cassian asked her, gaze sharp and lethal. “Did you feel relieved knowing he couldn’t hurt you anymore? Or did you feel guilty, Nesta, that Feyre did the thing you’d always wanted to?”

“You don’t know anything about me,” she whispered, voice trembling.

“I know more than you think. I worked with your father, you forget,” he replied, coming closer still. Close enough she could feel the heat radiating off him. Nesta wanted to press her face against him and tell him everything. The life before her mother died, when her parents made it clear they loved each other first and their daughters second. Realizing the blatant favoritism and how even their attention felt like a curse. The downward spiral when her mother died and the different ways he played them off one another while acting hapless and confused.

And Cassian was right. Nesta did feel relief. And guilt, because what kind of terrible daughter wished her father was dead? What kind of horrible person wished she’d had the strength to do what Feyre had? 

Cassian’s callused palm caressed her cheek. “If I had known…I’d have done it for you,” he murmured. “You’re too sweet.” “No one thinks that about me,” Nesta bit back, hating the way tears were gathering against the corner of her eyes.

“No one knows you. Not like me,” he replied, his expression cautiously guarded. This time, when Nesta raised her hand to hit him, Cassian caught her wrist. It wasn’t a bruising hold but it was firm, his eyes flashing with warning. 

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Cassian breathed, crowding her personal space. “Push away everyone who loves you until you’re alone just to prove you deserve to be alone. The only person who thinks you’re unworthy of love is you, though. Not me, not your friends, and not your sisters, either.”

“What do you know about it?” she whispered, hating the hitch in her voice. Fuck him. Nesta hated him. She hated him for speaking about her insecurities with so much confidence, as if he had the right. 

“I know what it's like,” Cassian whispered in response, thumb rubbing a soft, soothing circle against her wrist. “My mom was murdered and my dad…I killed him. Hunted him down, let him see the man he refused to raise and the monster everyone said I’d be. He deserved it.”

Cassian spoke the words with such relish, his eyes bright as he conjured up memories of the past. “Would you do it again?” she asked him, throat dry.

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “The only difference, I guess, would be my methods. I was too angry—I didn’t savor his pain. If I could go back, I’d prolong his suffering.”

“I think I’m a bad person,” she whispered, hating the way her body started to shake. “I couldn’t keep them safe. It was Feyre—Feyre who saved us. And she’s still…she’s in danger and I’m here, useless—”

“Don’t,” Cassian interrupted, his expression fierce. “Don’t talk about yourself that way. Not in front of me.”

“Someone should,” she snapped, wrenching her hand from his grasp. “What good is it to pretend otherwise?”

Cassian shook his head. “No one thinks half as harshly about you as you do.”

“I should have—”

“You’re sweet,” Cassian insisted, stepping in front of her as she tried to leave the bedroom. “My sweet Nesta.”

“No one thinks that.”

“No one knows you like I do. Someone told you you were cold and harsh, once, and you’ve never forgotten. But they were wrong about you. Let me be your weapon, Nes. Please.”

“And what do I do, then? Sit at home and—” “You asked me if I’d kill you if Rhys ordered me to?” Cassian began, eyes glittering with something that looked like triumph. “Ask me if I’d kill Rhys if you told me to.”

She just barely got the question out. “Would you?”

“Yes.” Spoken easily, without hesitation. “If you had a sword, I’d kneel and allow you to knight me. If you were a Queen, I’d beg you to make me your General. Your enemies are mine, your banner the only loyalty I know, your command my edict.”

“You like poetry now?” she asked, strangely embarrassed by his declaration.

“I read too, you know,” Cassian told her gently. But Nesta didn’t know that. While he’d been studying her, she’d been largely ignoring anything to do with him that didn’t involve his body laying atop her own. 

“You’re a bad man, Cassian,” she murmured, trying one last time. One last test, just to see, at least for now. Maybe there would be another someday, and maybe he’d let her down eventually.

But right then, Nesta saw his determination coupled with his realization he nearly had her. Damn him. 

“I never said otherwise,” he murmured, eyes soft. “I’ll be good to you, though.”

“Is this what you call good?”

He grinned. “How long did you know?”

“The minute you walked to my door,” she replied as he stared back at her incredulously. “You look nothing like a cop—”

“A compliment—”

“And also I can google. Do you think I didn’t look you all up years ago?”

“Ferye didn’t,” Cassian said with a smug smile. Nesta bit back the urge to scream a little. Feyre didn’t even google Rhys? It was so like her, to just put it all from her mind and trust that fate would guide her. And Rhys… “Is she safe?”

“Yes,” Cassian said solemnly, and Nesta believed he wouldn’t lie to her. Not about this, anyway. Nesta felt off kilter, unsure what to do or say next. It took her a moment to remember it all—he’d put a cloth over her face filled with chloroform and Gwyn and Em—

“My friends—”

Cassian grimaced. “Mor and Em are fine…well…Em is fine. Mor is…getting what she deserves, I think.”

“And Gwyn?”

“Az took her with him.”

Nesta was going to kill him. “Took her where?”

Cassian’s eyes slid to the floor. “I uh…I’m not sure.”

Nesta punched him hard in the shoulder.

“Ow! I didn’t kidnap her!”

“No, but you brought him to us!”

“Well, shit, Nes, I didn’t know he was gonna get obsessed when she put a gun in his face. Though…now that I think about it…I probably should have known,” Cassian mused, hazel eyes far away. “He’s always been…”

“Cassian, I don’t think you can judge him,” Nesta said, mind racing. Gwyn would be fine…right? “He’s not the…he wouldn’t…he respects the word no, right?”

Cassian’s eyes widened. “Of course. I’m sure he wouldn’t…do that.”

“How sure?”

Cassian’s gaze searched her own, face serious. “If he hurts her, I’ll kill him for you.”

Nesta wasn’t sure she believed that, but his words soothed her a little.

“Besides, from the last update we got, it sounds like she’s giving him a difficult time.”

Nesta was tempted to press him, but Cassian turned and asked if she was ready to go home with a wariness that betrayed how nervous he was. She wasn’t leaving him, though—even if it was a betrayal of her time in witness protection. She was ready to go back to living her actual life, to stop pretending to be Agnes, a woman she hated, and living in a place she loathed.

Rhys knew the truth and he didn’t want them dead for it. And Cassian…a million memories slithered through her mind. He’d cooked with her and done yoga, and—

“Did you kill Tomas?”

“Of course,” he replied easily, tossing a couple things into an open canvas bag. Nesta didn’t know why it mattered, but she crossed the wood floor all the same to fling her arms around his neck. 

“Thank you.”

Cassian hugged her back warmly and without hesitation. She felt him inhale the scent of her hair, hand spanning the entirety of her back. “For what? I love killing.”

“Cassian…you know thats fucked up, right?”

He shrugged. “We all have our talents.”

“Take me home, Cassian,” she murmured. Cassian only smiled, lips in her hair.

“Consider it done.”

CASSIAN:

In his wildest dreams, Cassian never expected Nesta to come as easily as she did, in the end. Perched in the passenger seat, Nesta complained about the music he listened to—Divorced Dad Rock, she claimed—the route he took—What is your obsession with backroads—and the way he drove—Get your hand off my knee, Cassian. 

With any other woman, in any other circumstance, it would have been a nightmare. He’d have been ready to commit a trail of homicides before he ever reached home, but listening to Nesta settled something restless and wild in Cassian’s chest. After a lifetime of violence, she made him feel safe, somehow. 

It didn’t hurt that she had a gun holstered to her thigh and those sharp eyes kept vigil even at night. Nesta didn’t relax until the doors were locked, the curtains drawn, and the closets checked for monsters. Was it him, he wondered, that made her look? Or the life she’d lived before him? Cassian drew up the courage to ask the night before they arrived home, holding Nesta in his arms.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked into her hair, unsure what he’d say if she did.

Nesta snorted. “Of you? No.”

“Then why—”

“Habit,” she replied, reading his mind. “It doesn’t hurt anything though, does it?”

“I just needed to know.”

They fell back into silence, half asleep even as Cassian’s mind whirled. What was Rhys going to say when he came home like this? Maybe he ought to put a ring on Nesta’s finger…just in case. 

“Nes?”

She merely hummed in response.

“We should get married.”

There was a very pregnant pause in the dark. “Is there a question in there somewhere?” Nesta finally asked, rolling over so she laid on her back.

“If I ask, you might say no. I’m telling you we’re getting married.”

Nesta leaned up on her elbows while Cassian tried to suppress his grin. If he wasn’t careful, she’d shoot him again. Why did that turn him on? 

“You’re telling me?” she repeated, her voice lethally soft. “Do you want to try again? I’ll pretend I never heard you say that.”

“No.”

In that, Cassian was certain. If he gave her the option, it was too risky that Nesta would say no. She’d fight him no matter what, but this way, at least she knew the outcome. He’d take her to the altar kicking and screaming if he had to. But Nesta was going. 

“Cassian—”

Cassian had her before she could raise her fist, pinning her beneath him quickly. Using his knee to spread her legs, Cassian settled himself between her thighs before lowering her head.

“Do you imagine a life without me, Nes?”

“Maybe.”

That wounded him, though he was determined not to show it. “Oh? And how do you figure?”

“Maybe I’ll get bored of you,” Nesta said in that flippant, bratty way of hers. The words shot straight to his balls which irritated him. He was never going to win a fight against her if he couldn’t keep his body in check. 

“Yeah?” he questioned, teeth tugging roughly at the lobe of her ear. “Do you think I’ll ever be bored of you?”

“Probably,” Nesta said, though there was a breathless quality to her voice. “Maybe you’d prefer someone less difficult.”

“Don’t sound so hopeful, Nes. There will be no one else. For either of us,” he added, just in case she thought he was giving himself some sort of out. 

“Cassian—”

“You shot me, remember?” he said, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. He would like a recreation of that moment. Nesta, gun pointed at him, Cassian, helpless. Though, he’d prefer it ended with him fucking her against a wood floor rather than picking a bullet out of his leg. 

“And that made you want to marry me?” Nesta asked, fingers brushing the stubble of his cheek.

“No,” he admitted, “though it certainly didn’t hurt anything. The sight of a gun in your hands, I just…fuck. Tomorrow. We’ll get married tomorrow.”

“How do you think we’re going to get married? We don’t have paperwork, a license—”

“I’ll figure it out,” Cassian interrupted. 

“Do I have a choice, Cass?”

“You could shoot me again. Run off, if you want. But I’d find you,” he added, just in case there was any doubt. “I’d bring you back.”

“Seems you’ve got it all figured out.”

“I’d like it better if you were excited,” Cassian murmured, kissing just beneath her jaw. “If you said yes.”

“You’d have to ask me a question if you wanted that,” Nesta replied blithely. 

Fuck he wanted her.

“Marry me?” he asked, changing his inflection just enough it was a question.

“No.”

Cassian covered her mouth with his own, kissing her with a brutal intensity that left him breathless. Desperate. Of course she said no. She likely had to, couldn’t have said yes even if she wanted to and still it did something for him. 

“Marry me, Nesta?” he whispered again, lips inches from her own.

“No,” she said again, though there was a whine to her voice that hadn’t been there before. Cassian kissed again, and again, his tongue stroking her own as his hands began skimming down her sides. How long before she said yes? Would they be fifty years in before Nesta finally admitted she liked being his wife? Three kids, eight grandchildren later?

Cassian ignored his desperate need to hear her say yes in favor of making her want him again. It felt as though it had been a lifetime since he’d last felt her beneath him, but right then he thought if he didn’t touch her, taste her, he’d go mad from wanting. Why was she wearing so much clothing? Nesta was in one of his t-shirts and a pair of underwear, all of which felt criminal right then.

He’d marry her, and then he’d keep her naked in his house, he decided. She could do whatever she wanted so long as she did it without a top. Cassian pulled it off over her head, dislodging the bun of hair she’d set just before they’d fallen asleep.

“I put moisturizer on—”

“I don’t care,” he growled, kissing her again. Fuck her skincare routine, and her pretty hair, and everything else. Cassian liked Nesta when she was fussy because it made undoing her all the more fun. Raking his fingers through her silken hair with one hand, Cassian used the other to palm her large, soft breast. He was painfully erect and making it her problem, grinding himself against her pelvis until he could feel her arousal through the thin fabric of her panties. 

“Cassian…” Nesta breathed, arching her neck as he began to drag his mouth down her skin.

“Marry me,” he replied, certain he’d be repeating this well into fucking her. 

“Shut up, Cassian,” Nesta replied, just in time for Cassian to lick her nipple. He sucked a little harder than he needed to, groaning when she arched into him. Her hand slid between his legs for his cock, squeezing a warning.

“Do that again,” she whispered, her eyes somehow bright even in the pitch dark. “I dare you.”

“Fuck,” he panted, wishing she’d keep stroking. Nesta released her grip in favor of raking her nails down his back before her palms settled on his shoulders to push him lower.

Cassian settled between her legs, peering up at her in the dark. “Are you going to marry me?”

“I guess it depends how well you do tonight,” she replied, which was an improvement from the outright no of before. 

“When have I ever done a bad job?” Cassian asked as he slid the fabric of her white panties to the side. There was something about letting her wear them that turned him on. Like he was doing something he shouldn’t, touching something forbidden. Nesta was a lady—she should have been off-limits.

And there he was, running his bloodstained hands all over her immaculate skin. This was Cassian’s religion, his home—his purpose. How could she not want to marry him when he’d never been more sure of anything in his life? That first taste of her felt holy, and when her legs fell fully open, Cassian truly believed there had to be some sort of higher power.

How else did you explain a woman like Nesta Archeron? 

Nesta’s fingers found his hair as he began to lick at her, taking his time in the dark. Where did he have to be? Outside of just returning home and telling Rhys what he’d done, Cassian didn’t need to be anywhere at all—and Rhys could wait, besides.

Rhys would wait. 

Cassian took his time, eyes adjusted to the dark as he licked slow circles around her clit. His fingers teased, using the fabric of her underwear to rile her up until Nesta was panting, thighs squeezed tight around his face.

“Cassian—”

“Are you going to marry me?”

“Cassian!” she replied, but he’d pulled away entirely to look at her. He wanted to hear her say yes—it was killing him that she wouldn’t, and if that was the only way he’d get that answer, well…

He’d done worse things than this. 

“Cassian, please,” Nesta all but begged, and he couldn’t stand that, either. Maybe it was just his aching cock begging him to get on with things, but Cassian returned his mouth to her pussy, licking faster this time because he wanted to hear her come. He’d missed the sound of her breathy sighs and the way her chest flushed red when she got close. Nesta’s legs trembled, arching and rolling against him in a mimicry of fucking. 

He needed to be inside her more than he needed anything else. Cassian pulled her close, wishing he’d sat her on his face so at least she could touch him. That was heaven and hell all at once, the desperate need to taste her and the frantic urge to fuck her. 

Cassian pulled back moments before Nesta came, panting roughly as he pulled his cock from his pants. Nesta whined, arching her back so her nipples pointed directly at the ceiling. Fuck.

“Marry me, Nesta.”

“Yes,” she replied, too lost to pleasure to think about fighting him. Cassian was quick to slide his cock into her body, using the pad of his thumb to rub her clit so Nesta came as he was entering her body. He felt her tighten around him, the sensation causing his eyes to roll up into his head. She was so wet—so warm. Cassian laid himself against, letting himself feel the waves of her pleasure against his otherwise still cock—he was too close and he hadn’t done a damn thing. 

“No take backs, Nesta,” he whispered against her ear.

“We both knew I was going to say yes,” she replied, eyes fluttering open to look at him. “I just wanted to give you a little hell.”

“I like hell,” Cassian murmured, kissing the corner of her mouth. “And I love you.”

Nesta smiled, a sweet smile on her lips. “I know you do.”

If he’d been in his right mind, Cassian might have demanded she say it back. It was very Nesta not to say it, to let him wonder if she meant it. But he knew, as she reached for him, that Nesta felt the same. He didn’t need words—her actions screamed it. 

Cassian had pulled himself out and was simply too drunk on the woman beneath him to care about anything else. Especially when her whole body tightened as he reentered her body, drawing a ragged whimper from Cassian’s lips. Somewhere in his head, he thought he heard Nesta asking for more. Maybe that was merely wishful thinking—Cassian couldn’t be sure.

He pumped, though, fingers slipping between their sweat slicked bodies until he found her clit again. He needed to hear her, needed to feel her. He was dangling on a precipice and yet he couldn’t finish, in part, he thought, because he wanted to feel the rhythmic clenching on his cock again.

Nesta came loud enough that if they had neighbors in the hall, they certainly heard her. Assuming, of course, the headboard knocking against the wall hadn’t alerted everyone to what they were up to. Cassian didn’t care, spilling himself right behind her the moment he felt her tighten around him like a vice. His orgasm ripped through him like a bomb, making a fool of him as he panted and pleaded her name. 

Nesta, Nesta, Nesta. 

Reality slipped back in like an unwanted house guest, forcing Cassian out of Nesta so she could quickly make her way to the bathroom, complaining about how much he’d come. As if that was a bad thing. 

“Cass?” Nesta asked, naked and illuminated by the harsh glow of the bathroom lights. He was once again struck by how beautiful she was. Ethereal, like some kind of angel sent from heaven to shoot him with his own gun. 

“Yeah?” he said, eyes on her face though he was looking at her boobs through his periphery.

“Can we…stay…for a day or two? Before we go back? Just us?” she added.

Cassian grinned, beckoning for her to come join him in bed.

“Whatever you want.”

And he meant it. Whatever she wanted.

Forever.

[moldybonessmell]

Spider-squad winter outfits headcanons post!

you can tell i drew different charas in separate days oh wow

So i kinda posted few days ago about recent lack of atsv content Hobie content specifically so i had to deliver myself, amirite? Tho i decided to not stop on Hobie and did the entire spider-squad or perhaps, spider-quad? *badum tss* im funny see

also it's like -38C/-36.4F in my city and i be wearing like four layers at all times so i got inspired can't believe i still love winter when my ass be freezing this bad

So here's my headcanons for spider gang winter outfits!

Let's imagine they all have a mission in winter...

Gwen

She can't really wear her hood bc of wind but everyone teases her about looking bald without it lmaoo so she got one of these knitted hoods instead, also wears one of these fluffy soft jackets

Was wearing uggs until she lost one of the boots during a fight LOL so she got these uggs with velcro fasteners + leg warmers

pics: 1) found-store on Pinterest, 2) wglwkjg on Pinterest, 3) pey on Pinterest, 4) ·˚ Isabella·˚ on Pinterest

Miles

I see him wearing something kinda like his og itsv outfit but winter version with one of these gigantic puffy jackets and nike sneakers with fur inside + a hat with pompom

Let's imagine his jacket is opened, i didn't realise in time it makes his spiderman-outfit not-so-spider looking

pics: 1) Hipok on Pinterest, 2) Nordstrom on Pinterest

Pavitr

He got one of these fluffy earmuffs (because his hair needs to be looking perfect at all times!), a puffy cropped cord jacket, a pair of these puffy winter shoes (these have a ribbon so you don't lose them flying around a city) and a BIG scarf with mittens (he definitely lost one of these tho)

He's the least used to cold out of the squad, but he's being very brave about it and wears a socially acceptable amount of layers

pics: 1) Campus Gifts on Pinterest, 2) WTI Designer on Pinterest, 3) true deals club on Pinterest, 4) liisa rita on Pinterest 5) EtsyCA on Pinterest

Hobie

In contrast with Pavitr he would wear a disturbing amount of layers, definately one of these mfs who wear layers instead of one warm thing

He's got one of these plaid "winter" coats that are thin af but swears he's warm cus it gets hot during fights (nobody believes him cus they watch him start to shiver in real time) (Pavitr crocheting a scarf for him was the only way to make buddy dress fairly properly for cold weather)

At least Hobie got a warm hat, right? Yes, spikes on the mask do just go through it, but it's warm, right? -right? ("it's a ventilation, mate!" or whatever lol)

Got layers of sweaters over each other: a turtleneck-sweater, a cropped one on top + a vest over all these

Would wear his usual boots just with warm socks under

pics: 1) People on Pinterest, 2) Natalia on Pinterest 3) Fur Hat World on Pinterest 4) OLUOLIN on Pinterest 5) Elena Ilieva on Pinterest 6) EtsyCA on Pinterest

Disclaimer: english is not my native and i was SWEATING trying to find how all of these clothes are called in english so if i messed up some names ignore it pls or let me now how they are called correctly

Okay, this is all! Hope you liked it!

[spacecadet-ticklesinspace]

Tickletober Day 23: Sweet

Fandom: Marvel (Avengers)

Pairing: Sam, Bucky, Peter 1 (platonic)

Summary: Sam shows Bucky how all the cool kids are trick or treating by knocking on Peter's bedroom door in the tower. When the teen doesn't have any candy to give, the older two Avengers look for a different kind of sweetness to get.

(Yep, had to include one of these three ❤️ :))

"Sam, what are we doing?"

"You'll see in a minute," Falcon replied as he lead him over to a door in the Avengers Tower.

"Believe it or not, I know how to trick or treat. I was around when it was popular."

"Yeah, but the kids have upgraded what they do since you were around. Now I'm going to show you the right way to do this."

Bucky watched as Sam knocked on the door in front of them. At first, no one answered so Sam had to knock twice more before it finally opened to reveal a familiar face.

Peter pulled back one side of his headphones. "What do you two want?"

Sam held up a bucket. "Trick or Treat."

The teen deadpanned.

Bucky huffed out a laugh. "Seem things haven't changed as much as you say they have Sam."

"Ah, but you see, kids aren't as gullible as back then. Now you really have to work to get candy."

Peter pulled his headphones down around his neck. "Did you really knock on my door so I would give you candy?"

Sam patted Bucky's shoulder. "Just showing him the ropes of how's it done."

"I don't need you to show me how to Trick or Treat," Bucky shot back.

"Wait, isn't this the exact opposite of what they warn you about in school?" Peter pointed out.

"They teach you in school not take candy from strangers Pete."

"And now there's two strangers knocking on my door asking for me to give them candy."

"Look, all you gotta do is put something in the bucket and we'll go," Sam responded.

"Sorry to disappoint, but I don't have anything to put in the bucket."

Sam pulled his bucket back. "Rude."

Bucky's face lit up as he grabbed his friend's shoulder. "Hey Sam."

"What?"

"If he won't give us candy, maybe he can give us another type of sweetness to make up for it."

Peter's eyebrows furrowed together while Sam matched Bucky's grin. "I get what you're laying down."

When both of them turned to Peter, the teen got the feeling he was screwed. "Oh no."

Peter tried to shut the door but Bucky managed to throw his arm up in the way. The teen then tried to run to his closet but he was quickly caught and thrown on the bed.

Bucky and Sam rushed to pin him down.

Peter squirmed. "No! Let mehe goho!"

"What's the matter kid?" Bucky wiggled his fingers into the bottom of the teen's socked foot. "You seem nervous."

Peter desperately tried to pull his foot away while still trying to fight with Sam's hands.

"I know, right?" Sam managed to slip past the teen's arms and dig into his ribs. "It's like he's worried something's going to happen."

"Naaah! Knock ihit ohoff!"

"Not until we get the sweetness we need from Trick or Treating."

Bucky spidered his hand up to squeeze Peter's knee. "So where are you hiding it?"

"AH! NOWHERE!"

"I think I know where it is." Sam dug into the kid's stomach. "Down here."

Peter bent in half. He desperately tried to pull his knees up to protect his stomach but Bucky kept pulling them back down. "No! Nohohoho!"

"You're right Sam." Bucky dug into the kid's thighs. "Looks like we found his hiding spots."

Peter was in stitches. He scrambled to roll over onto his other side but the older two pulled him back onto his back.

"Looks like you're desperate to hide something from us," Sam teased.

The teen shook his head. "Ihim nohot!"

Bucky rolled up his shirt. "Let's see what he's so anxious to hide."

"No!" Peter again tried to pull his knees up to protect himself but Bucky pinned them back down while Sam grabbed onto his arms. "Noho wahait!"

A moment later, Bucky's head rushed down to start nibbling along the teen's exposed stomach.

Peter's eyes screwed shut as he cackled and twitched at the feeling of the super soldier's teeth and facial hair attacking his bare stomach. He twisted his feet up into the air to try to counteract the feeling.

Sam gave Bucky a nudge. "Alright, my turn before we kill him."

"Nohot yohou tohoOOO! NAAH!"

Bucky chuckled. "Sheesh kid, could you be any louder."

Peter thought he was going to explode from the feeling of Sam's facial hair and teeth brushing against his stomach. It somehow felt even worse than Bucky's.

Finally, after several more minutes, Sam pulled his head away from the kid.

Peter sagged into the bed. "Jeherks."

Sam nudged him. "Drama king."

The teen kicked at them both.

"Hey! Keep that up and I'm going for those toes next."

Peter immediately pulled his feet up. "Don't yohou dahare!"

"Wehelp." Bucky stood. "Ihi thihink we got the sweetness we were looking for."

Sam ruffled the teen's hair before leaving the room with Bucky. "I think we did."

The teen glared at the two retreating figures before throwing a pillow at the closing door.

[exhuastedpigeon]

November 24 - Dec 1

Welcome to my second weekly Buddie fic rec list! Here are the fics I read or reread this week that I liked the most! The lists are tagged as ‘Han’s Buddie Recs’ and 'Han's Weekly Fic Recs'

Newly Read

Batting a Buck & Change by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briars Teen || 15.5k Eddie and Chim embark on a “Dad’s night out” to watch baseball at a sports bar, and after a few too many, Eddie accidentally lets his feelings for Buck slip.

It’s Not the Roaring Dream, It’s the Silent Lightning by giselleslash/ @gigi-gigi Mature || 15.2k (or the one where Buck is married to Eddie in a coma dream and he doesn’t want to let the dream go.)

wanting was enough (for me, it was enough) by bigfootsmom/@bigfootsmom Explicit || 13.2k Eddie is back at work and everything is going great. Except he's in love with his best friend and can't have him, so things actually aren't all that great.

He's made it this far with wanting but never having Buck, so he'll be fine.

But when the offer to have a threesome with said best friend arises, Eddie can't not take it, right?

What could go wrong?

Eddie/Buck/Lucy threesome with so many Buddie feelings

the next best thing by wikiangela /@wikiangela Explicit || 9k Buck accidentally sends a nude and a spicy text to Eddie - things escalate from there.

S P I C Y !!!!

Out of Order, Still In Line by callmeewbie /@callmenewbie Explicit || 6.2k When Buck finally gets to the Clinic, the long awaited release doesn’t seem to come; cue Eddie to the rescue.

SPICY!!

i come with a softer answer by hattalove/@hattalove Teen || 5.7k in which there is a frog, and a fair, and an eddie who allows himself to accept what he deserves.

coax the cold right out of me by oklahoma/@malewifediazTeen || 2.6k “You know,” Eddie begins, running his fingers through Buck’s damp, frizzy curls, “when I booked this cabin for the weekend, I had plans for us to fuck real nasty by the fire.”

Buck laughs—an ugly, congested noise that sounds like it hurts when it gets caught in his chest—and tips his head back to meet Eddie’s gaze in the low light of the blazing fire. His big blue eyes are puffy and his cheeks are red, hot by the fire and chapped by the wind; he looks like a kid, almost, sitting on the floor and wrapped tight in a large, black fleece blanket with nothing beneath except a pair of boxers and fuzzy socks.

“Well,” Buck croaks, “we’re still by the fire, at least.”

let me cradle your body (be a safe place to rest) by thewolvesof1998/@thewolvesof1998 Gen || 1.9k What starts out as a normal 118 gathering ends with Buck sitting on Eddie's lap.

This fic is so soft, it feels like falling asleep in Eddie Diaz’s lap.

stay here honey (i don't wanna share) by HungryHungryHippo/@hippolotamus Explicit || 1.8k || Lutalia OR Natalia helps soothe Lucy after a rough shift

This fic is so hot I needed time to cool off after reading it. 

In my defence I was left unsupervised by Spotsandsocks/@spotsandsocks Mature || 1.3k Buck gets bored and decides on a new look.

Can we just say the rest with no sound by devirnis/@devirnis Gen || 1.3k It’s late by the time Eddie finally pulls up in front of his house. In the passenger seat beside him, Buck is still staring blankly out the window, showing no indication that he’s aware they’ve arrived at their destination.

He’s been like this since they left the hospital. Quiet, still. Despondent.

Rereads

let’s hear it for the boy by hattalove/@hattalove Teen || 56.2k in which eddie attends a self-empowerment group for gbtq men to supplement his therapy, and is empowered to: forgive himself, say "i'm gay" to his own reflection in the mirror, accidentally adopt an adult, make fried rice, and tell his straight best friend that he's in love with him. not necessarily in that order.

This fic is so special to me. It has one of my favourite lines from a fic of all time - “you don’t realize what the world is doing to you until long after it’s already done”. 

in the night we trust by glorious_spoon/@glorious-spoon Explicit || 29.2k Or: Eddie and Buck start sleeping together when they're all stuck at Buck's place during lockdown. It still takes them almost three years to notice that they're in love.

The Scroll of Saint Barnabas by Amiril/@runawaymarbles Mature || 15k The day of the shooting, Eddie got stuck in a time loop. But that was three months ago. He's completely fine now.

One of the most unique time loop fics I’ve read. What happens once you’re out of a time loop? How do you move forward?

WIPs

The Lost and The Found by Spotsandsocks/@spotsandsocks Mature || 28.3k || 3/10 chapters posted

Eddie Diaz was born a shifter, of the wolf variety, and he loves his life. Visiting his Abuela one summer he meets a new friend but not long after that everything in his life gets turned around and hard choices have to be made. Eddie faces his responsibilities and does what he has to do.

Shifter AU, my beloved! As of adding to my rec list, three chapters have been posted! Be sure to follow Spots so you can read snippets when she shares them!

[kenny-the-ken]

Y O U + M E

Part 1

Soooo!!! Last nights South Park was everything I wanted but didn't know I needed!!! Kenny with his hood I mean,,, I am deceased. I'm having some serious writer's block, so please feel free to send me requests, HCs too!! I wanna get to know you all, and thanks for all the love on my previous fics. I normally hate my writing so knowing you guys like it is amazing!! This fic contains string language, angst, toxic thinking, obsession and sexual themes. ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP!! If you guys like this fic I can write more parts!! Loosely based on the Netflix show YOU!!!

Kenny hasn't been with another girl since the last time, and that was not something he wanted to repeat. That was until his eye was caught by you, and he couldn't tear his eyes away.

You were new here, family just moved to town and you had transferred to South Park High, and he was determined to know more about you.

It's not an obsession, he isn't obsessed, is he? So far he knew your name was y/n, you had moved here from the UK, so quite a far away from home, you were shy, trying your best to fit in, you were alternative in how you dressed, Kenny has already touched himself thinking about you, and he swore it was the best wank he'd ever had! It was clear to him that you were thirsty for that kind of attention, blushing as other boys talked and flirted with you, and his blood boiled, you would be his, who the fuck did these other guys think they were? How dare they even look at you in that way!

Although he didn't blame them, those short skirts, tight tops with too much cleavage and today was the day that Kenny's resolve broke, he could no longer watch from the sidelines, you were wearing the shortest shorts he'd ever seen with knee high socks and a lace bralette, no bra! God he was going insane. You had a flannel shirt tied loosely around your waist and Doc Martin boots on, and god you had tattoos! He swore you were so angelic looking it was sinful, and he knew he had to talk to you, before someone else could shoot their shot. You would be his. He was damned sure of it.

One problem though, how to approach you without creeping you out? You didn't know him, but he knew you, you were both meant for each other, you just didn't know it yet, but how to catch your attention. He'd have to think, and fast.

That was before his perverse thoughts were interrupted by the harsh ringing of the bell.

"Fuck." He muttered under his breath, slamming his locker in annoyance before making his way to English class, plopping down on his seat, lost in his own thoughts as the rest of the class filtered into the room.

He was once again distracted from his thoughts about you by the scent of your perfume, his head rising as you both met each others gaze, you smiled at him, as he gave you a gapped tooth smile back.

Trust the teacher to ruin his shot!

"Quiet class! I have a lot planned for todays lesson so let's cut to the chase, I have paired you all up for group work, you will be working in pairs! This is an analysis of the prose we have been reading, and I expect a presentation and a written essay that both of you must present to the class next week."

She turned her back, writing on the chalk board who was paired together, and Kenny swore his heart skipped a beat when he noticed he was paired with you. He's never wanted to fist bump the air so much in all his life, but he didn't want you to notice him geeking out over you.

"Please sit next to your partner and get started straight away!" You teacher said to the class, and you moved your seat beside Kenny's, you both sharing a desk.

"Hey, I'm y/n, I'm new here from the UK so sorry if some of what I say doesn't make sense, our slang is hard to forget." You laughed, and Kenny nodded.

"Most people can't understand me either." He mumbled, his hood up. Let her see your face, idiot! His brain almost screamed at him as he unzipped his coat, taking his hood down, and it didn't go unnoticed by his friends. They knew he was hot on your tail, and what Kenny wants, he gets.

Your mouth was wide as you studied your partners face, a blush on your cheeks. He was hot, his fluffy blonde hair sitting messily atop his head, his pale skin and subtle freckles and that adorable little gappy smile. Fuck! You'd only moved a week ago and already you were crushing on someone.

"I'm Kenny. We can meet at the park after school and work on our project if you're up for up it?" He offered, you would definitely be turned off if you seen how his family were and what his home was like, and he was not losing you because of his parents and their usual neglectful bullshit.

"Or you could swing by my house? I'll get us coffee and order some pizza?" You offered, twiddling your pen between your thumb and forefinger, trying to avoid direct eye contact out of fear of blushing in front of him.

"That sounds a million times better, thanks." Kenny replied, a small smile on his face, he took this opportunity to sneak a quick look at your cleavage, and he swore he could make out the shape of your hard nipples through your bralette, and were those piercings?! Fuck, what were you doing to him? Don't get hard, Jesus Christ don't get hard!

"Can I have your number? So I can send you my address?" You asked, offering him your phone to punch his number into.

And he gladly accepted, typing his number on to your phone, and while you were distracted talking to Wendy he quickly installed a tracking app on your phone, just so he could know where you were at all times, to keep you safe of course.

"There you go." Kenny replied, holding your phone out to you as you took it from him, smiling at him.

"So... tell me a little about you, Kenny?" His eyebrow quirked at your sudden question. Were you wanting to find out more about him because you were partnered with him and just being friendly? Or did you ask because you were interested in getting to know him, because he wanted to know everything there was to know about you.

"I'm eighteen, I've lived in South Park for my whole life, and I've always been known of the poorest kid of the school, thanks to Eric over there." He said, nodding his head in the direction we're the older boy sat, you could hear him laughing at his own jokes, he seemed like an ass.

"I have a brother and a younger sister, Kevin and Karen. Just a warning though, people here love to gossip, so if anyone is bothering you, let me know." Kenny said kindly, his eyes not tearing from you once, it was as if you two were the only people in the room, god how was he going to control himself when he was in your bedroom, just you two.

"So tell me a little about yourself, y/n." Kenny inquired, and he was genuinely interested, soul mates needed to know all there was about each other, and he was determined to know you, he just hoped that you'd let him.

"Um... I'm eighteen too, I'm an only child, live with my mother, but she has some... problems, y'know?" You said, and Kenny knew exactly what you meant, his parents were the crème de la crème of drug and alcohol addicts, so he knew fine and well what she meant. Maybe they moved here for a new start.

"You smoke?" He asked curiously.

"Yeah, you smoke weed?" You asked back, a small smirk on your face.

"Fuck yeah, I've dabbled with a lot of drugs, I mean, I've been exposed to them all my life." Kenny said, his eyes staring at his table, then back to you.

"I'll buy pizza and get us coffees if you bring the weed, deal?" You asked, putting your hand out to the blonde boy in front of you.

"Deal!" Kenny said, a smirk on his own face as the bell rang for the end of class.

You began packing up your things off your table and into your bag and as you bent down to grab your pen that had fallen on the floor, Kenny thought his eyes had popped fully out of his head. He stared at your ass and your thick thighs and my god how he wanted his head between them.

When you stood back up you finished packing and turned to see Kenny was waiting on you.

"If you wanna grab lunch together you can come with with me?" He asked, a small smile on his face, and boy did he hope that you said yes.

"That sounds lovely. Thanks, Kenny." You replied, throwing your back pack over your shoulder and beginning to walk out of the classroom with Kenny.

You could feel the eyes of other girls burning into the back of you as you both walked down the corridor, chatting together and making jokes as you both erupted into laughter.

Even though he was fully fixated on what you were talking about, Kenny was dazed, he was deep in thought, and it was all about you. About how your shirts hugged that perfectly round ass, how sensitive your nipples would be, what piercings would adorn them, did you have any tattoos that he couldn't see? His mind swirled.

As you both entered the cafeteria, he smiled and waved at his friends, before leading you over to introduce you.

"Guys, this is y/n m, she's new here. Y/n this is Eric, Kyle, Stan, Jimmy, Craig and Tweek." He said, pointing to each individual as he said their names, and you smiled.

"Hey guys, hopefully we can all be friends." You said, taking a seat between Kenny and Kyle.

"Kenny, how did you manage to get this pretty girl to befriend you?" Stan blurred outright, his cheeks going red as he averted both of your gazes.

"Um, we got partnered up together in English and it looks like we have a lot in common, and Kenny seems really nice." You said as the rest of the group nodded as if in sync.

"That makes sense." Kyle said to no one in particular and Kenny was in his own world again. You thought he was nice? He was making a good start, now he had to get you to fall in love with him, and he was pretty sure he knew how.

The rest of the day was pretty much standard procedure as far as Kenny was concerned, you had texted him, telling him to come over at 7pm.

So he had some free time on his hands. And he knew exactly what to do with it.

[guilty-pleasures21]

Yooooooooouuuuuuuuuu!!!!!!! You SUCK!

One more chapter guys!

And then gates to Hell shall open! Mwahahahahaha! 😈

2. It NEEDS to be EVEN sssslllllooooweeeeerrrrrr.

Part 1 - the new recruit

Part 2 - the depression

Part 3 - the gelato

Warnings: none.

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

     It was already getting to ten, Miguel noticed, glancing at his watch quickly, but X continued to sit by him, refusing to go home yet. 

     “You aren't gonna go home?” he finally asked her, curious - the latest she'd stay was ten, on weekends. Otherwise she'd be out by nine on the weekdays, so that she could get enough sleep for work the next day. X swivelled back and forth in her chair, biting in her lip nervously. 

     “Um, no …?” She sounded worried, afraid, and his forehead creased with concern at the thought. 

     “¿Qué pasa, arañita? What's wrong?” He turned to face her, his voice so gentle whenever he spoke to her. She clenched her fists, hesitating. 

     “Mmm, I just …” she trailed off, her chest tightening at the very thought of having to go to bed that night. “I just get afraid to go to bed sometimes. That's all.” 

     She shrugged it off like it was no big deal, but it was an extremely big deal. Afraid to go to bed? What did that even mean? Was something bothering her? Or someone? He felt the rage start to bubble inside of him at the thought. “What? Is someone bothering you?” 

     “No!” she replied quickly, her stomach warming up at his agitation - at how quickly he was ready to fight to protect her. “I just … I get nightmare phases, sometimes. Like night terrors? I think? I wake up all panicked and breathless and ugh! It's terrifying!”

     She shuddered at the memory, then turned to him with wide eyes. “Sometimes, I wake up with tears running down my face. It's horrible.” 

     Wow. It did sound horrible. Like some of the nightmares he had, sometimes. But … “Why do you get them? Did something … happen?” 

     She bit her lip, nervous. “Sometimes, it's about the people I miss, of course. But sometimes, it's just paranormal stuff. Those ones are insane. Maybe I should just take a pill.” 

     She sighed and leaned forward, resting her head on the table as she thought about it. Miguel tapped his fingers on the desk, thinking. But the longer he took to think about it, the faster his stomach began to churn. He shook his leg beneath the table. 

     “Do you …” he trailed off uncertainly, his voice a whisper. “You can sleep at my place. If it helps.”  Because he made her feel safe - safe enough to fall into a deep, dreamless slumber, knowing he was right there by her side. He bit his lip, not looking at her as he waited for her response. 

     He was really offering her that? Miguel? Biting down on his luscious lower lip like he was more afraid of her answer than she'd been of falling asleep. She grinned, her insides bubbling in anticipation of whatever would come next. “Yes! Yes.” 

     He glanced over to check her reaction, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the happy smile on her face. He turned away, feeling his own lips curl in response, then he cleared his throat, avoiding her gaze. “Do you … want to go now?” 

     “Can I go back and get my clothes first?” she suggested. “And then meet you there?” His lips stretched wider at the excitement in her voice; at how she went from being terrified to go to bed, to thrilled to get under the covers. With him. He nodded, still avoiding her gaze as he tried to hide his smile from her. 

     “Sure,” he agreed, remaining in his seat while she got up to leave. “Hasta pronto, arañita.” (See you soon, little spider.)

     “See you later, Miguel!” She portaled back home and raced to her cupboard, tossing a pair of socks onto her bed before she began rifling through her clothes for her sexiest pyjamas. She normally just wore a long-sleeved top and matching pyjama bottoms, but there had to be something that would catch his attention more than the others. Her hand stopped on her red top, the one that hugged her figure nicely and paired well with the plaid bottoms that sat low on her hips. Plus, he'd be able to see her nipples get hard too, every time he looked at her. She giggled at her own naughtiness, then pulled it out, throwing it onto the bed. She already had a toothbrush there from the last time she'd slept over and she could just portal home in the morning to take a shower. She gathered her meagre belongings, satisfied, then opened up a portal to take her to Miguel's place.

     He'd gone home right after she’d left, scrambling around his house to pick up the laundry he’d left lying around. He’d just managed to shove his last piece of underwear into the drawer when she’d called out to him, having arrived in his living room downstairs. 

     “Miguel?” 

     “¡Escalares arriba, arañita!” (I’m upstairs, little spider.) He shut the drawer and headed back down, his stomach fluttering at the sight of her standing in his living room, looking all too adorable as she gazed up at him, her pillow and clothes clutched to her chest. 

     “Hola, Miguel,” she greeted him softly. He grinned and lowered his head to hide his smile, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. 

     “Hola, arañita,” he responded. Then he looked up at her, eyes wide. “Do you want anything to eat? Or drink?” 

     X smiled as she made her way to the stairs, walking up to his bedroom to set her things down. She flashed him a mischievous smile as he followed after her. “Do you have anything to eat or drink?” 

     He paused, trying to remember the last time he’d gone to get groceries. “Uh, I can order something? If you want.” 

     X let out an amused huff and twisted her head back to glance at him quickly. “Should we go on another late night grocery run?”

     She dumped her stuff on his bed, perfectly comfortable to navigate his large apartment, and his chest warmed at the casual familiarity. It was nice, imagining he shared a bedroom with her - a life. Like … Like they were … “Would that help you feel better?” 

     She smiled up at him, delighted by his question. It was so sweet how he cared about her. He could deny it all he wanted, pretend to act as cold and indifferent as he possibly could, but he’d still invited her over, was still willing to walk the streets at night in his pyjamas just so she’d feel calm enough to fall asleep. She considered his question, enjoying watching him squirm while she reminisced about how much fun she’d had with him the last time. “Hmm, do you have your phone?” 

     He raised an eyebrow, confused. “Why do you want my phone?” 

     “I just want to find a good dessert place,” she told him, shooting him an exasperated look. He started returning downstairs to grab his phone and she followed behind. 

     “You want to go get dessert in our pyjamas?” He really hoped she’d say no: because he knew he definitely wouldn’t - he knew he’d march right back up to his room and throw on his t-shirt and sweatpants if that was what she wanted; if that was what it would take to put that easy smile back on her face again. Because he was in love with her. His stomach roiled at the thought. 

     “No,” she assured him, allowing to relax. “I’ll go get some new clothes. Then we can go out.” He handed her his phone and she started typing on it. Then she paused, looking up at him in question. 

     “Or … is there anywhere you like to go?” she asked him “When you’re feeling kind of stressed out?” He narrowed his eyes in thought. He hadn’t really gone out in a while. Not since after … Not since he’d established the HQ. He glanced over at her, with her dark, almond-shaped eyes, her slender fingers curled around his phone as she waited for his response. ‘You’, he realised suddenly, the knot in his chest disappearing as he gazed at her, ‘I go to you, whenever I feel stressed. And even when I don’t.’ He pulled his gaze away from her, trying to remind himself not to take comfort in her presence. 

     “Uh, no.” He waved his hand dismissively. “I’m fine with whatever you want. Lo que quieras, arañita.” (Whatever you want, little spider.) She smiled at that, and continued tapping away at his phone. Finally, she clicked on something and held his phone up to show him. 

     “How about this one?” It was a gelato place - of course. About a ten minute walk from his place. He remembered having seen it in passing once or twice, but didn’t recall having ever been there before. He shrugged. 

     “Sure.” 

     “Great!” she exclaimed happily, setting his phone back down on the kitchen island. “I’m just gonna go take a shower first. See you in a bit, Miguel!” 

     “Sí, arañita,” he agreed, his own lips twitching at the excited smile on her face. She stepped through the portal to take her home and he went back up to his bedroom, opening his cupboard to pick out his clothes. The red shirt? Maybe not - he already wore red all the time when he was with her, in his suit. He pushed the hanger aside and studied the next option. The black one? It was plain, simple … but it might end up looking too gloomy if he paired it with his dark jeans. He’d come back to it later. The green one? It was more of a moss colour, dark enough not to draw too much attention to himself, but light enough that- He paused, freezing up all of a sudden. He was thinking way too hard about this. Almost like … like it was a date! His stomach flipped at the thought of going out on a date with her, with her pretty eyes and her cute smile and her curvy little body. Then it tightened, his body suddenly feeling like it had been doused with a bucket of ice water. Did she think it was a date? Was that what she’d had in mind when she’d suggested it? Mierda, had he just been asked out on a date without even realising it? He shook the thought away quickly. No, he was overthinking it. She wasn’t the kind of person to play vague games that would mess with his head. And based on what he knew about her - what he’d come to know about her - he didn’t think she was the kind of person to ask someone out on a date first either. She’d never even been on a date, after all, how would she even know where to start? He pulled the green shirt off the hanger, not wanting to think about it anymore, and went to the bathroom to shower. 

     She rifled through her closet for the second time that night, puzzling over what to wear for their outing. Something cute and sweet, something that would bring out that shy smile on his face that he always tried to hide from her whenever he felt it tugging on his lips. A skirt? Would that be too much? After all, it wasn’t like they were going on a date or- She froze, terrified. Did he think it was a date? Did he think she’d been brazen enough to ask him out on a date without even telling him? What if he thought she’d tricked him into it? Tricked him into inviting her over by ‘pretending’ to be afraid to fall asleep so that she could drag him on a date when he didn’t even- No. No. He knew her. He’d taken the time to get to know her. He knew she wouldn’t ever think of doing something like that. She took a few deep breaths, calming herself down. They were just hanging out together - as friends. She liked his friendship, valued the casual intimacy they’d cultivated, the way they’d worked on their relationship slowly and surely. Of course she wanted more though, wanted him to tell her that he liked her, that she was pretty and cute and … and that he was in love with her, just as she was with him. But she wouldn’t push him: he didn’t like being pushed. She’d just take it slow and easy, hopefully wearing him down over time with her gentle affection and careful attention. She could be patient - he was worth it. She grabbed the skirt, not wanting to second guess things anymore, and went to the bathroom to change. 

     He glanced at the fridge, adjusting his hair in his reflection before stopping himself for the hundredth time. It wasn’t a date, he kept having to remind himself. And anyway, she’d already seen him at his absolute worst, after a tough mission or another sleepless night. It didn’t really matter what he looked like. He grabbed his phone, stopping it from floating off the countertop as a portal opened up beside him, letting her through. He sighed internally. She was so f*cking cute! Unfairly so. She’d put on a little mascara and some lip gloss and it was all she really needed, her long lashes even darker than usual, her soft lips even rosier than normal. And her outfit? Mierda, he’d been right: it was just like what she’d worn when Peter had called her to HQ that time he’d been grumbling at Hobie and Pav. That same black skirt paired with the suede ankle boots and a skin-tight green top this time, one that stretched over her chest and hugged her- coño, he was doing it again. He dragged his eyes away from her, embarrassed by the direction his thoughts had been heading in. He cleared his throat. “Should we go now?” 

     Wow. He was so effing hot, in his soft green t-shirt that begged her to wrap her arms around him, and his dark blue jeans that fell over his muscular legs just so, and his wavy hair that curled at the ends now that he’d washed the gel out of it. Sure, he was … frickin’ sexy in his Spiderman suit, the nanobots sitting just on top of his skin, following every curve and line of his muscles. But this? This was boyfriend material: going on dates and holding hands and sweet and nervous first kisses. She sighed. 

     “¿Arañita?”

     “Huh?” She looked up at him, suddenly realising that he’d been asking her something. What had he said? Should they go now? She shook her head quickly, bringing herself back to the present. Then she started making her way over to the door. “Uh, yeah. Yeah! Let’s go!” 

     ¡Ay, mierda! The way she’d been looking at him? Her lips parting as her gaze travelled over his body hungrily, her heart picking up speed in her chest. Dios, she was … He pinched the bridge of his nose, wincing as he tried to gather his thoughts. She was going to be the death of him one day. 

     “Miguel?” He startled, turning around to join her. 

     “Coming!” 

     They'd been walking in silence for some time, the nervous energy pouring off of him in waves, suffocating her as well. She hated it. “So, what do you do in your free time?” 

     She looked up at him expectantly and he winced at how awkward he'd unconsciously made the whole situation. “Uh, I-”

     “And don't say you don't have any free time!” she warned him quickly, knowing exactly what he'd been about to say. “You must have some hobbies - something you like doing outside of … everything.” She continued gazing up at him, her eyes wide and pretty, her lips soft and pillowy. Santo cielo, could he not stop thinking about her lips? For just one second?! He dragged his eyes away from her mouth. 

     “Uh, I … I used to play … video games.” He mumbled the last part, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. She turned her head and leaned closer to him so she could hear him better. 

     “What was that?” 

     He cleared his throat and repeated himself, a little louder this time, “video games. I used to play video games. When I had free time.” 

     Her eyes lit up with delight. “Ooh! What kind?” 

     “Um, shooter ones.” He shuffled his feet, embarrassed. “Strategy and teamwork and stuff like that.” 

     “You played with other people?” She asked, curious. "Did you have a gaming headset and a chair and everything?” His lips quirked at her enthusiasm. 

     “I had a headset, but nothing so fancy, arañita,” he replied. “Just … played with some friends, sometimes.” She nodded thoughtfully, turning her attention back to the sidewalk. 

     “That's nice.” She flashed him a soft smile. “I'm glad.” He returned her smile, his chest warming at her delight that he had a fond memory to look back on.

     “What about you?” he turned the question back on her now. “What do you like to do in your free time?” 

     She pretended to think about it, her eyes flicking to the side as she hummed thoughtfully. “Hmm. Think of ways to tease you.” 

     She grinned up at him mischievously and he rolled his eyes, his lips curled at the ends. She laughed. 

     “I'm just kidding. I like to write,” she revealed. “Stories, music, that kind of stuff.” 

     “What kind of stories?” he asked, curious now. She winced, slightly embarrassed. 

     “Uh, fantasy? Mostly? I like fantasy,” she replied a little too quickly. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. 

    “Mostly fantasy?” he repeated, bumping his arm against hers. “What else do you write, arañita?” He grinned as she squirmed uncomfortably, his stomach bubbling with pleasure at how easily he'd managed to fluster her. 

     “I like romance. Too. Uh, romance is nice.” Her eyes flickered up to his briefly before she lowered her gaze, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. He swallowed, her words running through his mind. Along with everything unsaid that went with it. “Is this the place?” 

     They stopped and he checked the storefront. “Looks like it.” 

     He held the door open as she walked in, her arm brushing against his chest, the sweet strawberry scent of her overwhelming all his senses. Then he followed her over to the display.

     X studied the flavours, trying to decide which one she liked best. Then she looked up at the cashier, fluttering her eyelashes at him innocently. 

     “Could I get the dulce de leche, please?” she asked him sweetly. “A single scoop. Thank you!” The young man nodded early and dug out the creamy substance, adding a little extra and flashing her a smile that was a little too friendly before handing her her cup. She treated him to a sweet smile in return, then turned to Miguel, gazing up at him in question.

     Mierda, it was worse than the way some of the Spiders would look at her in the weekly yoga classes Preethi had started - at least they knew that she was- He paused, repeating the thought. That she was … That she was not the one any of them were ever going to end up with. But this guy?! This guy giving her a playful wink as he handed her her dessert? He actually thought he might have had a chance with her. Even when she was standing right next to him. He frowned and moved to stand in front of X, pulling the server’s attention away from her. 

     “I'll have the Cioccolato all'Arancia,” he requested, pointing it out. It wasn't too sweet, so it would probably be more tolerable for him. “Single scoop.” He followed the server to the cash register and paid for their gelato whilst X went to go find them a seat. She slid his cup over to him when he sat down across from her, then took a bite of gelato and smiled, satisfied with her selection. He shot her an exasperated look. 

     “Are you happy now?” he asked. 

     “Extremely! Do you want to try?” She held her cup out to him and gestured to one side with her spoon. “You should take it from this side though.” She leaned over the table and made her eyes wide, whispering in a dramatic tone.

“I have Herpes. But not the serious kind!” she continued quickly, lowering herself back to her seat. "I just get cold sores around my mouth when the weather changes too quickly or when I get too stressed.” He raised an eyebrow. 

     “It’s fine!” she insisted. “I haven’t touched this side, so you can eat from there.” He took the cup from her and purposely scooped a bite out of the side she’d already touched, bringing it to his lips and eating it. He winced and groaned as he set it back down in front of her, trying so hard to ignore the big red message flashing in his mind: you’d get it anyway when you kissed her, you’d get it anyway when you kissed her, you’d get it anyway when you kissed her. And then, a tiny whisper in the back of his mind: and then when you do so much more to her. 

     “It’s so sickeningly sweet, arañita!” he complained. Her gaze stayed fixed on his mouth, her own lips parted in surprise at his brazenness. She swallowed hard, then looked up at him, trying to gather her thoughts. 

     “Um …” She tilted her head to the side, smiling mischievously. “Like me?” She picked up her cup and took another big bite. Coño, she was cute. Argh, he had to stop thinking that! He frowned and snatched her cup, taking another spoonful out of it. 

     “Hey!” She reached across the table and grabbed his cup, clutching it close to her chest so she could steal a scoop from it. Then she leaned across the table, maintaining eye contact with him as she brought the spoon to her lips. She pressed it down onto her tongue and closed her lips around it, twisting it around to suck the cream off before closing her eyes and letting out a satisfied moan. “Mmm.” 

     She opened her eyes and slammed the cup back down in front of him, fixing him with a challenging look. “Delicioso, Miguel.”

     F**************ck. ¡¿Qué p*tas?! How the f*ck could she do that?! How the f*ck could she look him straight in the eyes while sucking on her spoon like that?! And then the way she’d moaned after? Telling him how delicious it was while adding his name to the end of her sentence like … like she’d been telling him how delicious he tasted. ¡Ay, p*ta madre! He was so. F*cking. Screwed. F*ck! He turned his head, following the sound of the muttered curse to a group of guys sitting at a nearby table, all of them having witnessed the entire exchange themselves. He frowned as he saw them jostle each other and gesture to X, smiling at her hungrily. 

     Had he just …? She grinned, having heard the curse fall from his own lips. “What? What did you just say, Miguel?” 

     He turned back to her, horrified. He hadn’t even realised that he’d said it out loud too! He hunched over the table quickly, avoiding her gaze as he focused all his attention on his gelato. “Nothing! Just … eat your ice cream, arañita.”

     “Okay,” X relented softly, her lips still stretched wide in that delighted smile. Miguel barely noticed as he focused his hearing, picking up the whispered conversation of the group of young men. They kept talking about her, those cabrones - discussing how cute she was and arguing over whether or not she was with him and which one of them might stand the best chance with her. Like she’d ever let herself get pushed around by a group of immature little boys. She was a goddamned superhero, por amor de Dios! And anyway, it wasn’t like any of them would ever be able to take care of her in the way she needed - in the way she deserved. He moved his seat so that he was sitting beside her instead, his thigh pressing against hers, his large form blocking her from the view of those malditos cabrones. 

     “Miguel?” She smiled up at him, confused, then placed a gentle hand on his forearm. “¿Qué pasó, araña?” 

     Mierda, did she have to call him that? While her slender fingers were curled so tenderly around his forearm? He shook his head. “Nada. I just didn’t like the way those guys kept looking at you.” 

     He focused back on his food, trying not to let himself think about how it felt like home, speaking to her in Spanglish like this - how much effort she put into making herself seem like home. Somewhere he could return to, everyday, safe and sound. 

     She furrowed her brows at his statement, trying to sneak a peek over his brawny shoulder. “Which guys?” 

     “It doesn’t matter,” Miguel insisted, moving to block her view. He shoved his spoon back into his dessert, scooping up a bite and swallowing it down grumpily. She pressed her lips together at his actions, trying to suppress her smile. Was he … jealous? 

     “Are they good looking?” she asked, her voice dripping with fake innocence. He finally looked up from his gelato to frown at her, his thick brows set into a harsh line. Then he turned back to his dessert. 

     “No. They’re hideous.” X snickered softly at his brusque tone. 

     “Hmm. That’s too bad,” she lamented. 

     “Why is it too bad?” Miguel turned to her, thoroughly annoyed now by her constant curiosity about these other men who knew absolutely nothing about her, who’d never even talked to her let alone spent hours together with her, learning about her preferences, indulging in her company, looking after her when she was having a bad day. 

     He was starting to get frustrated - really frustrated, if the way he was shaking his leg beneath the table was any indication of how he was feeling right now. She shrugged, pretending not to notice how irritated he was becoming because of her. “Well, it’s always nice to know that a good looking guy thinks you’re pretty. It boosts your confidence.” 

     “You are pretty,” he scowled, unable to keep it in any longer. ‘You don’t need some useless cabron to tell you that’, is what he would have finished with had he not realised that he’d just called her pretty. Out loud. To her face. He tensed up, trying to figure out how to backtrack his statement - because how was he going to bring her back to his apartment and fall asleep next to her now that he’d told her how pretty he thought she was?! 

     Her cheeks burned as her lips curled into a smile and she avoided his gaze, knowing he was probably regretting letting the words slip out of his mouth like that. “Thanks, Miguel.” 

     She glanced up at him quickly, taking in the terrified expression on his face. God, he could be so cute sometimes. She scooped up the last bite of her gelato, then grinned up at him teasingly. “That’s going to last me at least a month.” 

     She swallowed the last bite of her gelato, then rested her elbow on the table, cupping her cheek in her hand as she gazed up at him. “And then I’m just going to have to find some other good looking guy to call me pretty after that.” 

     Santo cielo, how was it always so easy with her? How did she always know just what to say to put him at ease again? His shoulders relaxed as he turned away from her, finishing up his gelato as well. 

     “Estás loca, arañita,” he told her jokingly. She thought he was good looking?

     She straightened, her expression softer now that she’d gotten him to ease up again. “I prefer the term ‘exciting’.” 

     He turned to her, flashing her that one expression that he saved just for her - a mixture of amusement and exasperation that made her heart start fluttering like crazy - then stood up, grabbing her cup to toss it in trash. He turned back around and clenched his fists in anger when he saw the guys at the other table going over to X to try to catch her attention. He marched back to her immediately, placing his hand on her lower back to guide her to the door. “Vamos, arañita.” 

     She didn’t miss the possessive tone of his voice, or the way he stopped to glare back at the guys before they walked out of the shop. So he really had been jealous then! Or, protective, maybe. But she didn’t dare bring it up as they strolled back to his apartment, using the moment instead to just enjoy his company. 

     “Yes!” X exclaimed, jumping onto the sofa and settling down to watch her new favourite television programme - a reality dating show set on the moon. Because it was so easy to just travel back and forth between the Earth and the moon - the freakin’ moon! - in the year 2099. “Miguel! It’s on! We didn’t miss it!” 

     Miguel walked over to her, having changed into his night clothes once they’d come back, and groaned when he saw what she’d put on the television. “Coño, arañita. ¿Esta mierda otra vez?” (This shit again?)

     She grinned, ignoring the irritated twist of his lips, and patted the seat next to her. “¡Sí! It’s so trashy I love it!” 

     He rolled his eyes, but sat down next to her anyway, shooting a look of amusement her way before shaking his head fondly. “Estás loca, arañita.”

     “¡Hola, hermano!” Miguel looked up from his laptop as his little brother strolled into his apartment, walking around like he owned the place. Gabe set two bags down on the table, then flashed Miguel a bright smile, glad to see his brother home for once. “You don’t have any missions today?” 

     “Do you ever knock?” Miguel asked him, his tone sarcastic. 

     “Why would I need to knock? I have the keys.” Gabe began to unpack the bags, pulling out different fruits and vegetables and other groceries. But he stopped suddenly when he noticed something new. “Hey! You’re not wearing your eye protectors anymore! What happened?” Miguel remained silent as he pulled a small bottle out of his pocket and set it down on the kitchen island. Gabe peered at the clear liquid within. 

     “What is this?” he asked, curious. 

     “They constrict my pupils so everything’s not so bright anymore,” Miguel explained nonchalantly. As if it wasn’t a big deal that he could finally walk around the world in the same way he had before. 

     “Did you make this?” Gabe asked, growing ever more curious by the second. Miguel hesitated, considering his response. 

     “No,” he replied finally, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “Someone else made them for me.” Gabe leaned against the table, a knowing smile plastered across his face. 

     “Hmm, someone else, eh?” he repeated, trying to catch his brother’s gaze. “Is this the same ‘someone else’ you’ve been thinking about for the past few weeks?” Miguel raised his eyebrows, pretending to be both confused and offended by the question. Gabe rolled his eyes at the exaggerated response. 

     “Come on, hermano, it’s so obvious!” he insisted, unwilling to let the matter go. “There’s clearly someone on your mind! Do I know her? Have we met before?” Miguel glared at him in warning, his gleaming red eyes boring into his brother. 

     “There’s no one on my mind,” he lied, thoughts of her messy curls and her pretty smile and her curvy little body springing to his mind almost immediately. He turned back to his laptop, not wanting his brother to see the guilty look on his face. “And no, you don’t know her. We’re just friends.” Even though she’d told him she loved him. And they’d fallen asleep together, more than once now. And the very thought of her being with anyone else - anyone but him - made him sick to his stomach. 

     “Ah ha! So there is a ‘her’!” Gabe exclaimed victoriously, delighted by the revelation. He began transferring the groceries he’d brought along with him into the fridge and various kitchen cupboards. “When am I going to get to meet her?” 

     “I said she’s just a friend, Gabe,” his older brother repeated, letting out an exaggerated sigh. He really could be so dramatic sometimes. Gabe pulled open one of the cupboards by the fridge, then paused, confused. 

     “What is this?” he asked, pulling out a box of cereal he’d never seen before. Miguel didn’t eat cereal - not since he’d started bulking up anyway. Now, his diet consisted of a strict regimen of carbs and proteins that he prepared every weekend. Miguel’s eyes widened as they landed on the box and he shot out of his seat, grabbing it from Gabe and shoving it back into the cupboard quickly. 

     “It’s nothing!” he replied, his voice a little too loud when he said it. Then frowned. “Why are you even poking around in my stuff anyway?”

Gabe ignored his brother’s grumbling, thinking. If the cereal wasn’t Miguel’s, then that meant that he’d gotten it for ‘someone else’. And if ‘someone else’ was having breakfast at his place, then ‘someone else’ had probably slept over. “I’m gonna go use the bathroom.” 

     Gabe began making his way over to the downstairs bathroom, keeping his pace steady so that Miguel thought nothing of it and returned his attention to his laptop instead. Then he dashed up the stairs, not daring to look back at his brother for fear that he’d catch up to him when he realised what he was up to. 

     “Gabe!” Miguel exclaimed in panic, jumping out of his seat to start chasing after his younger brother. “¡¿Qué haces?!” But he was too late. Gabe stood in the middle of the bathroom, holding up two toothbrushes as he stared at the two towels drying on the rack. 

     “Just a friend?!” Gabe repeated incredulously. “Miguel! She’s slept over! This is serious! How could you not tell me?!” Miguel marched over to him and grabbed the brushes from his hands, shoving them back in the holder before steering his brother out of his bathroom. 

     “What’s she like?” Gabe continued, eager to find out more about this new girl who’d practically moved in with his brother without his knowledge! “Is she cute? Is she nice? I hope she’s, like, the total opposite of you - that would be hilarious.” Miguel gritted his teeth, trying not to think about how so very cute she was and so very sweet and how so completely in love with her was. Because he couldn’t be in love with her. Not when it only tear them - or the entire universe - apart. 

     “Stay out of my bedroom, Gabe,” he huffed, all the anger having left him now. Because it didn’t matter what he told himself, it didn’t matter how many times he repeated it. It still didn’t change the fact that he was in love with her. 

     “Okay! Okay!” Gabe raised his hands in surrender, turning back around to face his brother. His eyes trailed over the crease between his brows, the bags under his eyes, the disappointed twist of his lips. He reached up to pat his brother on the shoulder, trying to reassure him. “We don’t have to talk about it. But if you do, you know that I’m here for you.” 

     Miguel sighed, relaxing a little at the reminder that he’d always have his brother, no matter what happened. He ruffled his hair, causing Gabe to whine in protest about messing up his hairstyle or something. But Miguel just snorted in amusement and made his way back to the kitchen. “What do you want for lunch?”

Tags: @leahnicole1219 @heubstr

[tf-boi]

(A story starring me and my BF and a few of others)

"Hey Tony!" Raymond yelled from his Sean's room.

"What!?" Tony screamed from his room.

"Come in here!"

"For what?"

"Just come here!"

Raymond stood there for a bit in silence, until the sound of Tony unlocking his door and walking into his older brother's room broke the silence. Tony taken a bit aback to see Raymond, his brother Sean and their friend Rudy just standing there smiling only wearing their socks. Their members just hanging out.

"Uhhh. . .what are you guys doing??" Tony said with a weird look.

"We're having a . . .sock party!" Raymond said cheerfully. Raymond a medium sized boy with black hair.

"Yup that's it!" Sean said, almost robotic. Sean is slightly taller than Raymond, a bit muscular with pink hair.

"Join us!" Rudy said, also a bit monotone. Rudy is a smaller boy with light blue short hair and thin.

"Ummm I'll pass. . ." Tony protested, Tony a boy the same size as Rudy but with silver hair.

"Come on it'll be fun!" Raymond said hugging Tony.

"Fine. . ." Tony said, barely resisting as he took off his clothes only leaving his socks on. "What are you guys even doing-"

Before he could even finish his question Raymond interrupted, "Omg you look so cute in your socks! Why not try mine on?" he said handing him his socks.

"Ok?" Tony said reaching down to his socks.

"No no! Just put them over yours!" Raymond grinned.

Tony looked puzzled but he relented, putting Raymond's short black socks over his white socks.

Sean joined in "Oh oh! Mine too!" He said handing him his own short navy socks with red and white stripes.

Tony looked more confused but put them on regardless.

Tony then turned to Rudy "Yours too?"

Rudy handed Tony his red socks "Well if you insist!"

After Tony finished putting he stood up looking at them.

"This feels weird. . ." Tony muttered.

"Show time!" Raymond said snapping his fingers.

Tony's body glowed as his head was launched clean off his body.

Raymond caught his head and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

"What did you do!?" Tony screamed.

"Just watch!" Raymond said pointing his head towards his body.

Tony watched as the 4 pairs of socks he had on flew off his sweaty feet and floated in midair. His body looking like it was unraveling into threads and began getting sucked into the socks. Soon he was only a head in Raymond's hands.

"You look so hot without a body you know? But I guess you have questions that need to be answered. Better to show you. Boys?"

Sean and Rudy grabbed their heads and popped them off like dolls.

"Wh-what???" Tony gasped.

"I turned their heads into these!" Raymond said, taking out a pair of socks from the drawer, each of them white tube sucks with 1 with Sean's face drawn as a cartoon on it and the other with Rudy's. "I then made new heads so they can still talk and everything."

"But how???"

"Well its we were playing with some magic and the more you orgasm mentally the more I can turn you into a sock. But these two were way too horny, so I didn't get to have enough fun. . . so now its your turn!"

"Yeah it was so hot!" Sean said grinning ear to ear.

"I love my new body!" Rudy said feeling his sock"

"Well I'm not gonna orgasm!" Tony protested.

"Well thats not really your choice now. . ." Raymond said. Raymond placed Tony's head on the bed and picked up one of Sean's socks and started masturbating with it.

Tony felt a warm sensation inside of him "W-whats going on??"

"Your body is fused with all our socks so what they're feeling are too!"

Soon Raymond orgasmed into Sean's sock.

"Ahhh~~~" Both Raymond and Tony moaned as Tony mentally orgasmed. Tony's head now feeling softer and more fabric like.

Raymond petted Tony's head. "Slightly better but we have a long ways to go boys!"

"That-felt so good. . .please stopp. .. " Tony barely was able to mutter as Sean, Rudy, and Raymond grabbed another sock each and started to masturbate. Tony felt as if 3 guys were fucking him at once in all of his holes. He moaned as each of them came into the socks connected to his body several times.

He felt Raymond's soft gentle but passionate strokes as he cums into one of Tony's socks. Stuffing the other one into his mouth as if he was trying to gag himself. "Your sweat tastes sooo delicious~" Ramond said teasing Tony.

Tony felt Sean's warm protective cock, very brotherly and lustful. He orgasms into both Raymond's and Rudy's sock at the same time. "Join us bro~" Sean says, picking up Tony's slightly flattened head kissing him.

Lastly he feels Rudy's massive cock penetrating Sean and Raymonds socks. Their bodies look so similar its as if he was fucking himself. "You'll love it!" Rudy said cheerfully as he cums into the socks.

With each orgasm they share, Tony's head shirnks more and flattens into a socks shape. Eventually Tony's head lies on the bed, looking as if a sock had his head printed on it. "Please- no. . . wait more please!" He mutters, his mind almost completely brainwashed to enjoy his fate.

"Well looks like we are almost done here!" Raymond say picking up Tony's sock head. "How bout we finish him together boys!" He said lying down. Rudy and Sean sitting next to him in a triangle.

"N-no!" Tony protested as he feels the three cocks enter his cuff "Y-yes daddies!" Tony said with a lustful tone, as the three began to stroke their rock hard dicks inside of Tony's body. Tony's head stretching with 3 cocks in him. As the trio beat their meats, Tony's mind starts blanking out, his anxiety replaced with ecstacy and bliss.

Each stroke more and more of his personality being replaced with lust for Raymond. He mentally finally succumbs as he moans. "Change me please daddy!" He begged. Raymond and the others continue to enjoy their session until all three of them burst at once, filling Tony's head and inflating it like a large waterballoon.

"ohhhhhh!" Tony moaned as his head turns into a sock with his face printed on it, him absorbing as much cum as he could.

Raymond peels Tony's sock off of their socks and licked it "Nice. . . I love you too Tony! Guess its time to fix you. . ." Raymond says looking at the pile of cum and socks. Snapping his fingers, threads flow out of the socks and reforms Tony's body minus the head. With another snap of his fingers a replica of Tony's head appears in his hands.

"That was amazing master!" Tony said happily.

"Master? Well the brainwash was supposed to change you but I didn't think it would work THAT well!" Raymond says making out with Tony's head. "You know what? You've been so good I think I'm gonna take your body out for a spin!"

Raymond then removes his head and places it onto Tony's neck stump. Raymond began feeling his body up. "Very nice! I always wanted your body!"

Tony giggled "Its yours!"

Raymond picked up Tony's sock and puts it on.

"Ohhh that feels good!" Tony said with a lustful tone.

Raymond then taps Tony's head and it transforms into another sock that Raymond puts on.

"Lucky!" Both Rudy and Sean pouted.

"Its okay!" Raymond said putting his arms on the both of them "You guys can have your way with me! But. . .I prefer it if you guys didn't have these!" Raymond snaps his fingers again and both Sean and Rudy's heads disappear as the two began to fuck Raymond, now with Tony's body. From dawn til dusk.

[gardenvarietycrafts]

WIP Wednesday (Belatedly)

I know it's been a minute since I've posted, but my partner got me Stardew Valley and I am obsessed with it and haven't been knitting as much. I did pick back up my needles recently, though, so here's what I'm currently working on:

I just cast on the Leafy Leaf cowl. I was going to wait until I had finished something else first (the Dustland shawl being the main one I'd wanted to finish before starting this cowl) but I recently watched a Nimble Needles video with tips and tricks for the experienced knitter and just had to try this one! The tip is that no cast on and bind off will truly match perfectly, because they're just formed differently no matter what, but to match exactly you can provisional cast on, knit the work, then bind off both top and bottom with the same bind off technique. I'll update once I'm finished with the cowl to let you know how I like it, but it also gave me an excuse to learn how to provisional cast on in the round!

The second photo shows a little bit closer view of the lace pattern. I've only made it about halfway through the first repeat, but I really like how it's turning out so far. I'm not sold on my guage, though, so I may restart on smaller needles. If I do, I'll still use the provisional cast on then bind off the bottom edge technique.

This one is a hit of a back burner project because I chose a yarn with less stitch definition than I probably should have used for this project, but it's the No Rhinebeck No Problem MKAL 3, and all clues are currently released. I just need to finish the last repeat for clue 3 and then complete clue 4 and I'll be finished with this one.

This one was also in WIP time out for a bit due to the way this yarn knits, but I've picked it back up recently. Working on finishing the heel turn for sock 2 (the more pink sock) and then I'll be back to working on these two at a time in the round. The heels on these are Japanese short row heels, and they'll be a gift for a friend. These are both from the same ball of yarn, and I should be able to get a second pair out of it, which I'll knit exactly the same as these so that all 4 socks can be mixed and matched. My goal is to finish all 4 socks before gifting, but I may just gift these 2 socks first, since my next socks will be a pair for me, I think.

I'm not using a specific pattern for the socks, but they're just stockinette stitch, Japanese short row heels, and I'll use a wedge toe.

Not pictured:

The Dustland shawl - I'm still working on it, slowly, but progress isn't really visible because the stitch pattern just repeats. I have, however, decided to stop just after this pattern repeat, so after the next diagonal rib section (actually, after the garter section after the diagonal rib) because 1, it's huge already, 2, the rows are too long to maintain motivation, and 3, I'd like to not have to use up the whole last ball of this yarn. If I get close to the end of the ball, I'll finish it off there, even if I haven't gotten to where I planned to.

Mitered square blanket - I've decided to add more squares to the width and just make all the squares in the same direction, instead of making panels and seaming them together, so next steps will be adding more squares onto the width of the blanket. But this one likely will also be a long term project, since I have other things I'm focused on working on right now.

Project list, for things I have planned (mostly so I don't forget):

Socks for me using the Duo Sox yarn by Willow Yarns, which is meant for knitting a pair of matching socks and comes with two balls, perfect for the taat method I use

Second pair of apple mittens for my partner. She follows me, so I can't explain how they'll be different because I want it to be a surprise.

Mittens for me to match the hat and cowl I have, though I may also do a stripey cowl with that green and a dark blue yarn I have in my stash. I have an idea to knit a pattern I saw slightly differently to suit my needs better.

A pair of worsted weight socks, because warm and faster to knit.

Tea cozy for my tea pot. The first one I attempted was too small.

[hell-much]

Cutting Room Floor - Satisfaction

I found one more gem in the depths of my files. I had originally intended to end my one-shot Satisfaction with a short fluffy epilogue, but as I couldn't settle on what version to go with I left both of them unfinished.

.

Version 1

It takes a good three wet wipes, then the tiny foot is as perfect as before, and Sansa places a kiss against it.

“I know she’s adorable, Sans. But can we get started? I don’t really do well with apprehension.”

Giving the baby an exasperated look, she slips the sock back on the small foot, and sets the thin summer blanket on top of her.

She sits on her working chair and in pulling a fresh pair of gloves from the packaging and checks the placement of the foot print. It is adorable. It's on her brother's bare chest, yes, but it is adorable.

With the tattoo gun in hand she turns to him, just in time to see throat muscles work in an audible gulp.

“Last chance to change your mind,” she offers graciously.

His lips press together. “You’re enjoying this.”

Sansa keeps a neutral face. “You’re not the first one to accuse me of that, but no.”

“I know that look on your face. Like when we were kids and you got mom to tell everyone they had to play by your rules.”

“Yes, but you choose to play voluntarily. Now stop fidgeting.”

Robb takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “Just tell me when you’ll start.”

“Count of three. One.” And with that she brings the needle down, watches his eyes squeezes tight in pain. “Two. Three.”

“I knew you were going to do that.”

“You didn’t know squad. Now try to relax, or this baby foot will end up looking like a claw.”

He puts on a brave face, but she can see he’s struggling the longer she keeps going. And okay, maybe that gives her a small sense of satisfaction. More than it should, given the good place they’re in. Maybe Margaery’s right and she has more a vengeful streak than she likes to admit to herself.

A knock sounds at the door and Sansa calls a “Come in” without looking up from her work.

“I’m so sorry.” The sound of Margaery’s voice brings the needle to a screeching hold. “I’ll just be a second.”

Sansa and Robb share a look. The same one they shared when they were kids, and their mom was about to catch them making a mess out of the kitchen after Sansa had whipped up some cookie dough for them to eat straight from the bowl.

“Marg,” Sansa says, signalling for Robb to stay put. She gets up and peers past the milk glass screen that shields her working area.  “What are you doing here? I thought you had a meeting.”

“I forgot the pump,” Margaery says with a sheepish look down to her stained blouse. “I think I left it—”

She halts with a deep frown when she spots the stroller parked in the corner. In sheer unbelievably bad timing little Lenna choses that very moment to make one of her adorable gurgling noises. Margaery’s lips fall agape, and in a few steps she’s over to the stroller.

“You have got to be kidding,” she exclaims, lifting the baby into her arms and holding her against herself as if she was in need of comfort. She rocks her daughter, cooing at her, “You’re supposed to be with your daddy. Why aren’t you with your daddy?” Then her eyes dart to Sansa pointedly. “Why isn't she? Where is Robb?”

“Robb’s here,” sounds his voice from behind the screen.

Margaery whips around, staring at Robb. “What’s going on?”

“What does it look like?” Sansa says. “He’s getting a tattoo.”

.

.

.

Version 2

“Are you sure it will come off?”

“No. It’ll stay on for the rest of her life. The other kids will tease her as the girl with the black foot. We should start saving for therapy now.”

“I meant if it would wash off easy. We won’t need any chemicals to get it off will we?”

Margaery rolls her eyes, rocking her wiggling daughter and sends Sansa a look that’s looking for help.  

“It’s a special ink,” Sansa chimes in. “Won’t need more than one or two wet wipes to get it off. I promise.”

Robb holds her eyes warily for a long moment, before he nods reluctantly. “Okay. If you’re sure it won’t hurt her.”

Sansa smiles softly. That’s exactly the reason why she doesn’t do these kind of tattoos if she can avoid it. Young parents are brainless creatures. Present company very much included.

Not that she doesn’t get it. In freeing an perfect tiny foot from its equally tiny sock, her fingertips brush over toes that curl in the same way her fingers do, and just then she gets it. For just a second her own brain malfunctions as well, and she hesitates in bringing the foot down on the ink pad. It’s an immaculacy that shouldn’t be tarnished. Even just temporarily.

It’s Margaery then who gets a hold of the fragile ankle and presses it down on the ink pad. With her daughters foot still in hand she turns back to Robb, and eyes the spot Sansa marked before. She purses her lips. “You’re sure that’s where you want it?”

“I can handle the pain,” Robb tells her stoically.

“You cry when you stub your toe,” Margaery tells him unimpressed. “But that’s not what I mean.”

“Ink drying rapidly,” Sansa interjects the squabble.

She closes her hand around Margaery’s bringing the baby foot down on Robb’s chest. In all the strange situations her job as a tattoo artist got her in over the years, this must be strangest yet. Her brother lying shirtless on her table, while she and his ex-wife / her girlfriend bring her niece’s / step daughter’s foot down on his pec.

The imprint the tiny foot leaves is nearly perfect. Already a little bigger than the stamp they did at the hospital, the day she was born, too. Sansa’s never gotten the appeal of these foot and hand print tattoos before, but now she does. She’s growing way too fast, a remembrance just how tiny she is now seems almost unavoidable. So much she’s tempted to get the same one. Just almost though. In all the things she voluntarily and involutnarily shared with her brother, getting the same tattoo as him is where she draws the line.

She hands Robb the mirror. “Check if you like the angle.”

Robb holds it up, brows drawing low as he inspects the stencil. His eyes dart over to Margaery, who holds Lenna’s foot up for Sansa to clean. “What did you mean if I was sure?”

Margaery shrugs, brushing over the fuzz off red hair on her daughter’s head. “It’s not exactly what women find attractive.” She ably ignores Sansa’s glare that begs her not to go there. “Don’t get me wrong. As your daughter’s mother I find it sweet, but for any random woman you hook up with… I don’t know. I think I might find it off putting.”

“It’s off putting that I love my daughter?”

“Sansa, help me out here.”

“Don’t drag me into this,” Sansa pleads, pressing a kiss to the freshly cleaned and good as new baby foot. She smiles. Just how in love she is with this perfect little girl is unreal. She always knew she was going to love her, but just how much, astonishes her anew every single day.

“I’m just saying,” Margaery goes on unswervingly. “That you already have a daughter is not the first thing you want a woman to think of in the moment you take your shirt off.”

“Your concern for my dating life is touching,” Robb deadpans.

Margaery smirks. “I’m not a regular ex-wife. I’m a cool ex-wife.”

Robb rolls his eyes and turns to Sansa. “Can we get started?”