#i really need the spin-off and another season | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

d1xonss · 2 months ago

Text

Practice Makes Perfect

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 11

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : ⚠️ Smut (18+)

✧ Word Count : 8.9k

AN ~ Okay, so this was originally a request sent in by annon, but when I first uploaded it, I wasn't completely happy with the turnout. It felt a bit rushed and there were some things I wanted to change so I figured I would reupload and try again. So in other words, if you've already seen me post this once, no you didn't:) Hope you enjoy! xoxo

ps- Daryl's a sub in this so if you're into that, this is definitely for you;)

Daryl stood slumped over at the kitchen counter in the shitty apartment he now called home, the space oddly silent as the kids were off with Carol for the day. But the quiet was nice, it gave him time to think, time to let his mind wander as he slowly woke for the day. The smell of coffee hit his nose as it brewed softly from behind him, the light streaming in through the opened windows to let in the fresh breeze.

Though his gaze remained downcast at the piece of paper that sat in front of him, his eyes rereading the words over and over again to the point where he had it memorized. The neat cursive of your handwriting, the small errors in your spelling, and especially the little heart you placed at the bottom where your name was signed. You had left it the first time you came over, and even though you didn’t have a clue in the world, he had kept it ever since. Mostly because he didn’t have the heart to throw it away. Though there might’ve been another small part of him that held onto it because it was something you wrote out for him, and him only.

He reminisced about how stressed he was that day, having just moved into the Commonwealth with two of his kids, trying to figure out the new community and routine they would have to grow accustomed to. It was all very surreal having to go back to a “normal” kind of life, Judith already asking for allowance before he even had his first day of work made his head spin. But then with just a soft knock on the door, came a sight that he never expected to see.

You stood there on the other side, all pretty and perfect, wearing a smile on your face and holding out a container of cookies as some kind of welcome. You explained that you lived just down the hall and heard about the new arrivals, wanting to do something special as you expressed your understanding for how weird it must’ve felt for him. And after offering your baked goods and assistance to whatever they might need, all Daryl could do was nod his head as he stared at you dumbly. He wasn’t trying to be rude, in fact he appreciated your words more than anything in that moment. However, he couldn’t help but ogle you as if you walked straight out of a Disney movie or something.

And it was safe to say those feelings never exactly went away. In fact every time he saw you they only seemed to worsen.

The kids however were even more hooked with you than he was, your cookies really winning them over in the beginning as they finished them within a day and a half. “Marry her.” was the first thing Judith told him after tasting the delicious treat, and he couldn’t deny he was amused. Though he obviously wasn’t looking to date or marry anyone ever, the idea of eating whatever you baked for the years to come...it tempted him a bit.

But the reality of it all was that he didn’t want to ruin his blossoming friendship with you, it was far too precious for him to ever risk. That, and he had absolutely no experience with relationships whatsoever. He had kissed a girl once when he was about fifteen, but other than that, he hadn't been with anyone in his entire life. Never even showed interest in any woman that attempted to flirt or touch him as he simply didn’t ever feel the need to want that. He always preferred to be on his own, that’s just the way that it was.

But now as he stood there, reading over your note you left on top of the container of cookies all those months ago, he knew he was in way over his head with someone like you.

Just then the front door suddenly opened up, the sound causing him to jump a bit as your familiar voice called out, “It’s me!”

It had become a common occurrence for you to just walk into each other's homes without knocking, and though Daryl didn’t mind, now was clearly not the time. He scrambled to open up a random drawer, tossing the note inside before slamming it shut again, “Kitchen.” he called back with a huff.

He saw your head peek around the corner a few seconds later, smiling as you adjusted the strap of your purse, “Hey, you busy?”

“Nah,” he said as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, “Just…makin some coffee.” he gestured, offering you a thin lipped smile.

You nodded, “Where are the kids?” you asked, sitting yourself down at one of the stools across from him, “I found some things I think they’ll like, I figured I’d stop by and drop them off.”

“They’re out with Carol, she offered to take ‘em for a couple hours.”

“Oh.” you nodded again as you watched him turn around to pour himself a cup of coffee, “Well, that’s nice…you deserve some peace in the mornings every once and a while. I can just leave them here.” you suggested as you took the two little boxes out of your bag, placing them down on the counter.

He hummed a response before retrieving some milk and sugar to pour a decent amount into the mug, making you question everything as he was always adamant on having his coffee black. The way God intended or something. But then your expression softened a bit seeing him setting it down in front of you instead, making it the way he knew you loved.

“Oh, I don’t need any-” you tried to protest.

“It’s just coffee,” he said as if it were no big deal, “No roofies or anything, I swear.”

You snorted at his shitty joke, like you always did, raising the cup to your lips as you muttered, “Smartass.” just loud enough for him to hear.

He smirked a little at your response, pouring himself a cup of the steaming hot beverage as the two of you enjoyed it in the nice comfortable silence. His eyes never strayed away from you for very long however, almost as if he was casually taking in your appearance without you noticing too much. You always dressed up pretty, your hair styled to perfection, wearing some kind of boot or high heel, and paired with some fancy outfit that was far too much for the apocalypse. But Daryl never minded. In fact, he found it endearing.

Though he couldn’t help but let his mind wander a bit, noticing that it had been quite a long time since he had seen you. Usually the two of you would get together a few times a week simply because you had grown to love each other’s company. But recently you had been busy with other things, with other people. Perhaps that’s why he found himself staring at your note this morning, subconsciously missing you without even realizing it.

“You avoiding me or somethin?” he then broke the silence, his question lighthearted but a part of him was a little serious. His insecurities tending to get in the way of things.

Your brows furrowed a little, “What?”

He shrugged a bit, “Just noticed you’ve been busy lately…haven’t seen ya in a while. Miss ya.”

You gave him a sad smile, “Believe me, I’m not doing it on purpose, work has just been insane. We recruited a few new people who don’t know what the hell they’re doing, training them has been a disaster, and…” you trailed off as you looked at him, noticing the small smile he wore when watching you ramble on and on. “...I miss you too.”

“Then stay for a while.” he said, his voice soft, seeing if he could keep you a few extra minutes before you would ultimately have to go to work.

You sat up a bit straighter at the invitation, “Yeah? You want me to?”

“Course.” he reassured, though his statement made him feel a bit uneasy, roughly clearing his throat to slightly divert the topic, “Just…don’t get too comfortable cause you ain’t movin in.”

He heard you laugh softly, the sound being almost too perfect to be real, “Don’t worry, I know you like your little bachelor pad going on here.” you gestured.

He scoffed, “Yeah, when the kids ain’t hoggin it.”

You hummed before a slow knowing smile was brought to your face, gently setting down your mug, “You know, speaking of…I talked to Carol recently. She told me some pretty interesting things.”

He raised an eyebrow, whether it was one of concern or curiosity, you couldn’t tell, “Oh yeah? Bout what?”

“You. And…Connie.” you hinted.

A look of surprise crossed his face, “What bout Connie?”

You shrugged innocently, “She seems to think you have a little thing for her.” you said, taking another sip of your coffee as you looked around, “Maybe this won’t be a bachelor pad for long.” you winked.

Daryl was left baffled. Why Carol would think he had a thing for Connie, he had no idea. But she had gotten it completely wrong, and now the girl he had been pinning over was under the same impression from the misinformation. But he couldn’t necessarily correct you, not without you questioning why. This conversation couldn’t have been going any worse, and all because he just wanted you to stay for a damn cup of coffee.

He couldn’t help but chuckle nervously, running a hand through his slightly messy hair, “You and yer wishful thinkin, girl.” he tried to brush off.

You tilted your head a bit at his dismissive tone, “I just want you to be happy.”

The sincerity in your voice made his heart flutter in an unimaginable way, finding he couldn’t stop the smile that spread onto his face. This is exactly why he liked you, your heart was far too big for your own good. “Yer pretty sweet, ya know that?”

“I’m just being honest,” you spoke softly, “If anyone deserves happiness, it’s you.”

He scoffed lightly in response, “Well, I appreciate that…but I don't think that's somethin I want...it ain’t really that simple for me. I can’t just…do that with Connie. Or any woman really. I ain’t good at that kinda stuff, I dunno what the hell m’ doin. I never even-”

A lump formed in his throat as he suddenly cut off the last part of his sentence, feeling his face get hot with embarrassment at what almost dared to slip out. He hadn’t meant to say that much, he never wanted to admit this kind of stuff to anyone let alone the woman he was enamored by. But now he had gone too far, he became far too open and honest about his inexperience, and now all he wanted to do was crawl into a hole and die.

Apparently, the conversation could get worse.

Though whether it was because of your innocence or the fact that it was early in the morning, you weren’t picking up what he was putting down as your face morphed into confusion instead. “Never even…what?”

Oh for the love of God.

Daryl cleared his throat awkwardly as he ran a hand over his face, the redness spreading down his neck as he debated on whether or not to tell you. It was mortifying, the fact that he had gone fifty whole years without touching a woman was absolutely the last thing he wanted you to know. Yet at the same time, he trusted you. He trusted you wouldn’t laugh or make fun of him for the matter. And anyway, he felt it was a little too late to back out now given the intrigued look on your face.

“Never had…y’know…” he trailed off with a gesture of his hand, hoping he wouldn’t have to actually say it out loud.

A beat of silence passed before your eyes widened a little as you connected the dots. Though you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it. No way this man was a virgin.

“Shut up.”

Daryl felt his cheeks burn brighter at your disbelief, “M’ serious…I ain’t ever…done that before.”

“You’ve never had sex?” you asked as if to make sure you were truly on the same page.

He blinked, “No.”

You slumped back in your seat with a breath, “Wow…” you muttered, watching as he grew more uncomfortable by the second. Though you weren’t trying to make him uneasy by admitting such a thing, it just genuinely surprised you that he had gone this far in his life without sleeping with someone. I mean…he was attractive, kind, somewhat of a smartass. It was hard to believe no one had fallen for that sort of thing, causing you to wonder just how much he had missed out on.

You nodded to yourself, “We gotta get you laid or something.”

His eyes widened in absolute horror, clearly not expecting that response from you, “No, no that’s- what?” he exclaimed in disgust, “You ain’t gettin me laid.”

“Why not?” you asked in mild disappointment.

He set his mug down on the counter with a soft slam as he grunted in slight frustration, “Christ (Y/N), cause it ain’t that easy. I don’t just wanna screw around with someone, that ain’t me. I would have to have…feelings for that person to get that far, y’know?” he asked, silently pleading with you to understand.

His outlook made you slowly realize that Daryl wasn’t like any other guy you’d ever met. Well, you always knew that, but hearing his genuine words seemed to make you falter for a moment as you just simply stared at him. Any other guy would absolutely dive head first for the opportunity to have a random and meaningless hookup, something to make them feel good before forgetting about the other person as a whole. Using them to just get what they wanted.

But Daryl…was the complete opposite; probably the biggest sweetheart the world had ever seen. You knew he would want to love and cherish that person he would share such an intimate moment with, treating them with the most respect and consideration. He would probably take it as slow as possible, not only to prolong the intimacy, but to make sure they were truly comfortable. You imagined him to be gentle and kind, even after the deed was done, he would continue to take care of them, offering to get them anything their heart desired.

Thinking about all of this caused an unexpected flutter in your stomach, one that you didn’t expect. But you couldn’t deny it was there.

You blinked a few times to snap yourself out of it, clearing your throat awkwardly, “I know that…I honestly wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” you smiled softly.

His shoulders relaxed a bit upon hearing your response, nodding in appreciation as he assumed the topic of conversation would end here, hoping to get out of this humiliating misery. But before he could speak, your gentle voice cut off his words.

“Is there someone you have feelings for?"

His eyes widened a little at the unexpected question, "...Huh?"

"Is there someone you’d want to, you know…experience that with?” you clarified.

He paused again, swallowing nervously as there was a certain heaviness to that question he couldn’t place. Of course there was. The way he felt about you was unlike anything else he had ever experienced before. In the beginning he denied it relentlessly, because he simply couldn’t accept the fact that he had managed to open up his heart to someone so special. But there was no denying it anymore, at least to himself. Though you on the other hand, could never know the truth.

“Nah.” he said simply.

You nodded slowly in understanding, quietly tapping your fingers on the counter as if you were trying to figure out what to say. “Well…if there comes a time where there is someone, and you need some advice…I’m always around.” you assured.

He nodded slowly, “Alright...” he said in appreciation, trying to mask how he was really feeling, his heart feeling like it was about to burst out of his chest at the thought of you seeing through him.

“Dropping the topic now.” you said as you raised your hands in surrender.

He chuckled gruffly, “Thanks.”

You smiled up at him, before catching a glimpse of the time blinking on the oven, “Oh shoot, I should go. I have to head into the infirmary in like fifteen minutes.” you said as you quickly drank one last mouthful of coffee.

Daryl tried his best not to let his disappointment show, nodding once more as his eyes followed you when you moved around to place your empty mug in the sink. Though the disappointment seemed to diminish when you turned around to give him a hug, your arms going around his shoulders as you gave him a soft squeeze. He found himself smiling at your familiar gesture, patting your back before he pulled away first, his hand lingering on your arm.

“Stay outta trouble, alright?” he mumbled.

“Always.” you promised in return.

An entire week had passed since that little talk the two of you had in his home, and it was safe to say that it had been plaguing Daryl’s mind ever since. He couldn’t recall the last time he was so open with someone, not being able to tell for certain if he regretted it or not. Though he couldn’t deny that your support and understanding wasn’t something to take for granted. But the longer he thought about the interaction, the more he wished he’d told you the truth.

Maybe he should’ve laid it all out there, but then again he had a lot to lose. Having no idea how you would react to his confession, he could potentially scare you off, and that was something he didn’t know if he should risk. He became a mess of emotions as he pondered endlessly over the things that clouded his thoughts. Although he couldn’t deny that he was slowly starting to find the idea of sex more and more appealing the longer he thought about it. Maybe having a little experience wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. But that also meant having to ask you for that experience, and he knew he would rather die than put himself out there like that.

Though as the days dragged on and he grew more restless, he physically couldn’t stop himself from thinking about it. This was way out of his comfort zone, he knew that, but he felt like he was going crazy at this point. At least if you said no then he could just move on and not absolutely spiral about the constant “what ifs.” So, with that in mind, he smoked an entire joint by himself in order to calm his nerves before gathering what little confidence he had left, and headed down to the infirmary where he knew you’d be at this hour. He couldn’t let himself think about the decision too much otherwise he knew he would surely chicken out.

The door opened with a soft creak as he stepped inside, scanning the area for you. He disregarded the people sitting in the waiting area, clearly anticipating when their name would be called, opting out to peer around the corner to try and see if he could spot you. And sure enough he managed to catch a glimpse of your frame in the back, stocking up a nearby medicine cabinet as you organized a few pill bottles. You were wearing that little white doctors coat that he knew you hated, thinking it ruined your outfits. But he always found it quite attractive.

He awkwardly stood there for a moment as if debating whether or not to go back there, knowing he didn’t exactly have permission. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, letting out a small whistle in hopes to get you to look at him. It was a quiet, soft sound, but it caught your attention nonetheless, glancing over your shoulder to see him standing there lingering in the waiting room. He smiled a bit, gesturing with a hand as if asking if he could walk over to talk to you, to which you nodded almost immediately, waving him back.

Daryl let out a breath once you beckoned him to come over, silently slipping past everyone else to join you in your more secluded spot, “Hey.” he breathed.

You smiled, “Hey, what’re you doing here?”

Once you said that, it hit him. What was he doing here? He showed up to where you worked of all places to have this private discussion, not even considering the option to invite you over sometime to talk like adults. Maybe he underestimated how high he really was.

“Just uh…just wanted to see ya.” he said quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he figured there was no backing out now, “Can we talk for a minute?”

“Oh, um…” you trailed off as you looked around, making sure no one needed your assistance, “You might have to make it quick.”

He nodded in understanding, “Right, course…I promise it won’t take long.”

Your brows furrowed a little in concern, “What’s going on?”

He cleared his throat nervously, gripping the material of his jeans as he felt his palms begin to sweat, “You know, uh…you remember that morning you came over a few days ago? When we was talkin in the kitchen?”

“Mhm.” you nodded.

He swallowed thickly as his heart was beating concerningly fast, trying to force himself to just say it, “Well, I been thinkin��bout what you said and…all that,” he gestured with his hand, “Bout gettin some real experience.”

Your eyebrows raised a little, “Really? You changed your mind?”

“Yeah, I did,” he grunted, “I think it could help, y’know…get outta my comfort zone and whatnot. See what all the fuss is bout.” he joked dryly, purposefully dancing around the subject.

You smiled a bit in surprise that he was willing to take that step, knowing normally he wasn’t one for change or trying new things. But maybe this time he was really ready to put himself out there, and you couldn’t lie, you were happy for him. Though the more you thought about it, the more you became a bit discouraged at the thought of him with another woman. You didn’t know where it came from, this pang of jealousy, but you knew you couldn’t say anything. After all, you were his friend, and he clearly came here in search of the support you always provided.

So, you managed to push your lingering thoughts aside, smiling genuinely as you gave his arm a small nudge, “Well, I think that’s great.”

He hummed as he nodded his head, trying to force himself to just stop being a coward and ask, “But I also had…somethin to ask ya.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Oh? About advice?”

“Nah…not exactly,” he mumbled as he let out a heavy sigh, “I was just wonderin…if you’d…” he trailed off again as he took another moment to look at you. He knew there was no going back after he said this, questioning last minute if it was really worth it. But seeing that gleam in your eyes and the sweetness of your smile, the words just seemed to stumble out without his permission.

“If you’d be the one to give me some experience.” he said quietly, his tall frame leaning down a bit to mutter it quietly for your ears only.

Your stomach plummeted when you heard his quiet request, feeling as if the wind was knocked out of you as that was the last thing you expected to come out of his mouth. The way his tone dropped when he asked, the fact that he took a small step closer to tower over you more than he normally was. It was all doing something to do. The tension between you was there, thick enough to cut with a knife as you stared at him practically gaping like a fish, not knowing what to say.

On one hand, you were flattered, and a little turned on by the fact that he wanted you specifically to give him the experience he craved. But another part of you felt hesitant, as if you weren’t one hundred percent sure he knew what he was asking of you. You wanted him to get out there, escape his comfort zone, but you didn’t want him to do it just because you simply suggested it.

Though just as he was growing a bit worried at your silence, you finally spoke, “...Me? You…you want it to be me?” you whispered.

He let out a soft breath, “Well…yeah. I...I really like ya, and...I trust ya.” he admitted, gazing down at you with a certain gentleness in his eyes, “But you know…you don’t gotta if you dont want to. I ain't gonna pressure you or anythin, I just thought I'd...” he trailed off, realizing he was talking far too much.

But you didn’t feel pressured, quite the opposite really. You honestly just couldn’t believe this was actually happening, it was a lot to process, and you hardly knew what to say. Time seemed to be moving incredibly fast and slow at the same time as you stood there, staring at each other with a newfound feeling.

Though just as you were about to open your mouth to speak again, someone popped around the corner and called your name, clearly needing some help. Daryl silently cursed at the interruption, though it was to be expected. He was coming to the conclusion that this was probably the worst time to be having this discussion.

“Sounds like they need ya...” he said softly.

You tilted your head as you didn’t want to go, your expression turning sympathetic, “I’m sorry.” you whispered.

Daryl shrugged it off, “It’s alright.” he said, hesitating for a moment, before reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair back behind your ear. Your eyes widened a little at the gesture, the comfort of his touch, feeling yourself almost leaning into his hand before he took it away too quickly.

“I’ll um…I’ll see ya around, okay?” he said with a nod before turning to head out, not even giving you a chance to respond.

You were a little shocked at his sudden rush to get away, but at the same time you understood. He must’ve been incredibly embarrassed and ashamed, especially since you hadn’t given him an answer. A part of you wanted to call him back, but you knew better than to do that, knowing he was already too far gone to hear you anyways.

Daryl couldn’t even begin to describe his regret as he walked back home, the distance between his apartment and the infirmary giving him way too much time to think. You didn’t seem completely disgusted, but clearly you weren’t a huge fan of the idea given the look on your face. He knew this was a bad plan from the get go, but he still somehow convinced himself to do it, now wishing he had never opened up his mouth at all. He felt a certain grief wash over him as he could imagine he had ruined whatever relationship he had with you, needing to learn to let it go.

The remainder of the day passed by in a flash, ending with him taking a long, hot shower in an attempt to ease the tension in his muscles and the thoughts circling his mind. The water sprayed down on him like an element of lava given the harsh temperature, his fingers running through his wettened hair as he rinsed out the soap and bubbles. Perhaps the longer he spent under the running faucet, the more it would make him forget about the embarrassing events of the day. It caused him to wonder what you were thinking at this moment in time, but then again a part of him didn’t want to know.

“Daryl?”

His eyes widened in surprise when he heard the sound of your voice, momentarily considering it to be just his imagination, but the sound of the front door closing with a familiar slam convinced him otherwise. What the hell were you doing here? And with the worst timing in the world.

“Y-Yeah? I’m in the shower.” he called out without thinking, the door being opened a crack and just enough to where he hoped you could hear him.

You fidgeted nervously near the front entrance, hearing his slightly muffled words made you rethink your decision to come over, seeing it clearly wasn’t the best time. “Oh, okay...should I um…should I come back later?”

“No, no,” he quickly called out again, “Just…just gimmie a sec.” he said as he frantically finished up before you had the chance to leave.

With his reassurance in mind, you stayed put as you waited for him, briefly hearing the water shut off after only a few seconds. Your thoughts ran wild as you pondered over the things you wanted to say, having not been able to take your mind off the interaction for your whole shift. It was distracting, nerve racking…but it was also a bit enticing. You had no idea what you were going to say to him, but one thing was for certain, you weren’t about to deny that his request didn’t intrigue you.

The sound of his footsteps approaching is what snapped you out of your thoughts, your eyes widening a fraction as you saw him step into the living room in nothing but a towel. The truth was, he was just far too anxious to hear what you had to say to take the time and put on real clothes. Though now as he stood a few feet from you with just a thin piece of fabric shielding him, he felt a little exposed under your lingering gaze. But you couldn’t bring yourself to look away, his messy hair sticking to the sides of his face and the water droplets that clung to his skin, it truly was a sight to behold.

Had you always looked at him like this? From the moment you met, you always saw him as a close friend and someone you could count on for anything. But now it was like a switch flipped or something, nearly drooling as you saw him in a way you never had before.

“Somethin you need, sweetheart?” Daryl’s voice broke through the silence.

You blinked a few times as you were brought back to the current situation, nodding absentmindedly, “Yeah, uh…I was hoping we could talk.”

He shifted a bit on his feet, subconsciously tugging his towel up a bit, “Bout what?” he asked dumbly. He knew why you were here; he just didn’t know what else to say.

You gave him a look that made him feel stupider than before, “About earlier…” you trailed off after a moment, attempting to find the right words, “Were you…um…did you really mean all that?”

He shrugged, “Yeah…” he breathed, “You really think I didn’t mean what I said?”

“No,” you quickly reassured with a shake of your head, “It’s just…it was all really unexpected, you know? You’ve never done anything like this before, and now all of a sudden, you’re asking me-”

“I know how it looks,” he said as he dared to take another step closer to you, “But…I’ve had these feelings for ya ever since you first knocked on that damn door, alright? It’s new to you but it ain’t new to me.”

Your expression softened as he admitted this wasn’t some spur of the moment thing, not that you thought it was. But his confirmed feelings for you only drew you closer to him, hearing the assertiveness behind every word.

“Look,” he sighed, “Goin down there and askin ya that was me bein a fuckin idiot. I shouldn’t have gone about it like that, hell, maybe I shouldn’t have even asked at all...I don’t know. But I don’t want ya to feel like ya owe me a damn thing, cause ya don’t. If you don’t wanna do this-”

“I want to.”

Daryl paused for a moment when you interrupted him, feeling a bit shocked that you had made your decision just like that. But then again, you did have hours to think it over. Meanwhile he didn’t even have to think twice when it came to you.

“Y-You do?” he asked, not meaning to stutter. He was just thrown off and absolutely floored that someone as breathtaking as you would agree to something like this with him of all people.

You took a breath as you stepped closer to him, leaving just a few inches of space, “Yeah…I really do. Honestly, I’m...pretty flattered.”

He felt a sudden burst of nervousness in his chest as the reality of the situation began to set in for him. You wanted this too. He could easily see how genuine you were being as you moved to be closer to him.

Clearing his throat gruffly, he spoke again a bit quieter, “Yer flattered?” he couldn’t help but chuckle, “Ya don’t even know the half of it.”

You smiled a little, sensing both his eagerness and unease which you seemed to find charming, “It’s just me.” you reminded.

He nodded quickly, “Yeah, yeah I know…” he said as he hesitantly rested his hands upon your arms, as if to help steady himself. “I just…I don’t know what m’ doin.” he admitted a bit sheepishly.

“I know,” you reassured, “I’ll show you…you trust me?”

He nodded again, his heart beating rapidly against his ribcage as he grew more anxious by the second. Not because of her, but because of the unknown. But it was clear he was in good hands. “I trust you.”

With his simple nod of approval, you reached up to gently grasp the back of his neck, before pulling him down to meet you halfway where your lips clashed together. He gasped quietly against your mouth, the softness of your lips already addicting as his hands instinctively squeezed your arms, wanting to keep himself grounded. The taste of you was better than he ever could’ve imagined, heavenly, unreal…but what else did he expect from someone as perfect as you? As the kiss deepened, you slowly coaxed his mouth open so you could slip in your tongue, his groan in response to you only encouraged you to keep going. His kiss was hesitant and a bit sloppy, though you couldn’t help but love it.

Your free hand moved up to his wrist, guiding his hand down toward your hip as if silently encouraging him to touch you. Daryl received the message loud and clear, but he was still a bit clueless when it came to how, slowly allowing his hand to roam the curve of your back blindly. He then pulled you a bit closer to him, wanting to feel every part of you against his skin. But with his swift movement, caused his towel to nearly slip all the way off his waist, feeling him quickly grab it before it had the chance to hit the ground.

He cursed quietly as he pulled away from your mouth, his breathing coming out in short, harsh pants as he grew a bit flushed at the idea of being completely naked in front of you. You allowed him to collect himself for as long as he needed, noticing the red that dusted his cheeks, but you still didn’t miss the blatant lust that filled his eyes.

Your hand reached up to gently brush some hair away from his face, “You don’t have to be embarrassed around me.” you spoke so softly, so patiently, leaving a few kisses on his cheek as if to help ease him.

He sighed shakily, trying to gather himself as his eyes fluttered closed for a moment at the feel of your touch, “I know, just…never been this exposed in front of anyone before.”

“I know,” you assured again, your mouth traveling to gently nip at his earlobe, “How about we move to your room? And you can take it off when you’re ready.”

Daryl hissed softly as your teeth grazed his ear, nodding frantically at your suggestion, “Okay…yeah.” he said breathlessly before taking your hand to guide you back down the hallway.

In a flash he had taken you into his room, shutting and locking the door behind the two of you before you gestured for him to sit down on the edge of his bed. He followed your suggestion without saying a word, willing to do just about anything you wanted right now with how incredibly turned on he was. Though he was extremely nervous, he couldn’t deny how badly he wanted you, how many times he had imagined himself in situations much like this one. Completely at your mercy.

His eyes followed your movements as you came to stand in between his legs, cupping his face to angle it up toward you. “Just relax.” you whispered before slowly kissing him again with a little more force than before.

This time he couldn’t stop the moan that bubbled up in his throat, feeling the smoothness of your skin on his aging cheeks, his body physically shuttering. His hands reached out to pull you closer to his bare chest, wanting your body flush against him as his touch seemed to roam a bit more confidently. You felt his hands travel down to squeeze your ass, groaning into your mouth as your tongue invaded his mouth to taste him again. At this point he couldn’t help but wonder if this was a dream, or some kind of sick hallucination, his mind tricking his body that this was actually happening with how fast they seemed to move. But he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care right now.

You smiled against his lips as he gently groped your ass, your hands moving up towards his hair to give the roots a gentle tug as your mouths worked frantically. A shiver ran down his spine, the action making his head spin. You were so good with him, so gentle yet so firm as well. He couldn’t stop himself from breaking away from your mouth briefly, his lips moving down your neck as if he wanted to trace and memorize every last bit of your skin.

You sighed softly as your head instinctively tilted back for him, “You sure you’re a virgin? You seem pretty good at this.” you teased lightheartedly.

Chuckling against your skin, he took his time to kiss the underside of your jaw a few times before responding roughly, “Just have a good imagination is all…”

“You’ve thought about this before?”

He nodded a bit timidly against your neck, growing a bit shy at the admission, “A lot, actually…”

A smile broke out onto your face as you looked down at him, “Well, now I’m even more flattered.”

He groaned in slight embarrassment as he buried his face in the side of your neck, the words just slipping out without him being able to stop. His mind was too far in the clouds to realize fully, the lingering effects of the weed he had smoked making his mind a bit hazier. But he desperately wanted to remember every little detail, his hands trailing down toward your thighs as if he was itching to memorize your body.

“Here...” you then spoke again, moving his hands up toward the buttons of your blouse, “Help me out.”

Daryl looked back up at you with slightly widened eyes, swallowing thickly as he gave a shaky nod, beginning to undo them one by one. His calloused hands, though rough, couldn’t have been more gentle when it came to touching you. He treated every part of your skin like it was delicate glass, a piece of art to admire, as he almost didn’t feel worthy of being in this position. How could he have gotten so lucky when this was the last thing he thought he deserved.

“Keep going,” you encouraged when you felt your top fall to the floor, feeling his hands hesitantly move to unzip your skirt.

The piece of fabric slowly slid down your smooth legs and bunched at your feet, leaving you in practically nothing as you believed bras were a waste of time and effort to wear. His eyes took in every inch of you, mentally trying to capture this moment as he was already reluctant for it to end. And yet it hardly even started.

“You’re so beautiful…” he whispered as his hands reached out to touch you again, his face filled with desperation.

You smiled as you looked down at him, “Yeah?”

He nodded instantly, “Yeah…I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

A laugh escaped your lips as you leaned down to be aligned with his face, “We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” you said sweetly before leaving a kiss on his cheek.

Daryl let out a breath as you kissed his cheek, the reminder that this was far from over was almost reassuring. His growing need and want was beginning to be unbearable, his hands gripping your thighs a bit tighter as he felt his erection start to ache.

“You wanna take that off for me?”

Upon hearing your request, the gesture of your hand that pointed toward the towel still around his hips, he grew a bit anxious. It was no secret that he was a bit insecure with the way he looked, he was older, his hair and beard a bit graying, his skin worn and scarred. He knew he was about to be fully vulnerable with you, that being both a good and a bad thing. He did trust you, but he just hoped you liked how he looked despite the fact that he didn’t.

It took a moment for him to build up the courage, to which you were incredibly patient, before he finally pulled the towel off of him, leaving him completely bare in front of you. But your reaction was far from a negative one. Your eyes widened a little as you took him in, not being able to see his flaws he was so worried about as you were solely focused on how breathtaking he looked. His arms could’ve been sculpted by gods, his toned chest rising and falling with every heaving breath, and as your gaze traveled south, you were shocked at the bragging rights he seemed to hold.

But the thing you wanted him to know the most, was that he was just as perfect to you as you were to him.

Though seeing his pleading expression seemed to stir something inside you, quickly slipping off your thong before stepping forward to straddle his hips in a fit of impatience. His eyes widened at your fast actions, but he wasn’t about to complain, his hands immediately going to your hips to hold to in place as he loved the feel of your skin against his. He didn’t know what to do now exactly, but he did know that he wanted more of you.

“You’re so handsome.” you praised, your mouth coming down to suck softly on the side of his neck. "So perfect for me."

A small gasp escaped him at your praise, your mouth working against his skin caused him to nearly melt beneath you. He had been called a lot of things in his life, but handsome and perfect were never one of them. It was new, different…and he loved it. He soaked up everything he could like a sponge, wanting to ravish in your touch forever. But when he felt you begin to rock against him, stroking his length with every pass of your hips, he couldn’t help the strangled moan he dared to let out. His hips instinctively bucked up against you in return, unable to help himself as he craved more than what you were giving him. All he could feel was his heart racing, his skin burning up, and his dick twitching as he physically needed more. His face nuzzled in the side of your neck, breathing you in as shivers of pleasure ran through him like currents of electricity.

You hummed, “You like that?” you asked, your mouth hovering over the shell of his ear where your teeth grazed his sensitive skin.

Daryl nodded his head frantically against you, losing himself in the lust he had never felt before in his entire life, “Yes…yes, I like it.” he stuttered out desperately, gripping onto you as a signal not to stop anytime soon.

He had never felt so good, the rhythm mixed with your kisses and taunting praise, he felt he could’ve imploded right then and there. He wanted more, his body craved more of you, but he didn’t know how to ask for it. His breathing was ragged at this point as he tried to hold himself back, his face still hidden in the crook of your neck as his lips began to place soft kisses against your skin. But as your pace grew more tortuous and slow, he couldn’t help but writhe and moan beneath you, not being able to take much more of your teasing.

You felt him pull back to look up at you, a distressed look painting his face, “Please.” he nearly whined. It was a tone you had never heard from him before, finding that you loved the way he was falling apart for you.

“Please what, honey?” you asked sweetly as if you didn’t already know, cupping the sides of his face, “Tell me what you want.”

A soft whimper escaped him in your agony, knowing damn well you knew what he meant. He looked up at you pleadingly, the smooth skin of your hands on his face feeling so good, but not good enough. “You…” he whispered needily, “I want you…please.” he begged.

Whilst he was beneath you, whimpering and pleading for you to fuck him, you on the other hand learned something new about yourself. The scene that played before you was something sinful, but you loved it far too much to feel even a little bit guilty. The burly man you had come to know as tough and stoic, just whimpered because of you. And for that, you had no choice but to give him what he so desperately needed.

In an instant you slowly sunk down onto his length, the size of him causing a moan of your own to escape through parted lips. Though Daryl on the other hand groaned loudly as he felt your tight walls enveloping him, his head falling back as he bit his lower lip in an attempt to silence the noises you threatened to pull from him with one simple move. It felt like he had just walked through the pearly gates of heaven, the feeling so surreal and pleasurable he couldn’t help but let it cross his mind.

As you adjusted to him, you looked down and studied his face, his brow already lined with sweat and his expression one of pure bliss. “You look so good like this.” you whispered, your finger gently tracing his jawline.

He wanted to scoff at your comment, thinking that he no doubt looked like a mess in front of you, but he couldn’t help but feel prideful at the thought of you loving it. It made him feel good, perhaps more confident even though he was fully flushed and exposed.

Though as he felt you begin to move, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and a low moan left him in response, feeling the heat in his stomach already beginning to build. His hands moved from your hips down to your thighs as if to encourage you to keep going, giving them a firm squeeze as he panted to try and catch his breath. He felt as if he were going insane with the waves of pleasure washing down upon him, the feeling like no other as he knew he was a goner from the moment you agreed. His head was spinning though he tried to concentrate, not wanting it to ever come to an end as he watched you steadily pick up the pace from above him.

His mind was lost on him as your movements quickened skillfully, his hips pathetically trying to match your pace though he was failing miserably. But he didn’t care. It felt too good to care. His fingers nearly dug into the soft skin of your thighs as he whimpered and squirmed, feeling himself already starting to chase his high. He felt a little embarrassed that it had taken him close to nothing to reach his peak, but then again, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you to stop.

Daryl grew desperate to say something, to warn you that he was getting more and more overwhelmed with the feeling of ecstasy, though he wasn’t able to form any coherent sentence. All that managed to come out were pathetic whines and moans as he desperately tried to pound into you, looking up at you with widened eyes in hopes you would get the message.

And you did. You understood completely. With a simple kiss on his lips and encouraging words, you let him know that it was okay. “I know, honey, I know.” you said sweetly, “Let go for me.”

He whimpered against you lips when you kissed him, hearing your words made him feel a bit more at ease as he felt himself just on the brink of losing all control he had left. But he couldn’t help the way you were making him feel. With his mind beginning to cloud and the desperate movements he made, he finally felt himself release deep inside you, burying his face in your neck as he came. You slowed down your pace a bit as you guided him through his high, trying to make it last as long as possible for him as he just gripped and thrusted into you harder. Near sobs began spilling from his lips as he clung onto your limbs, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths as his body was practically vibrating.

He hadn't meant to be this much of a mess, completely falling apart from underneath you as he chased his high so desperately. But with how unbelievable you made him feel, it was like he had no control over the noises he made t or the emotions he felt. Like you had complete control. And he loved it more than he was willing to admit.

It took him a while to come back down to earth, but you waited patiently the whole time, running your fingers through his tangled mess of hair as he collected his hazy thoughts. Though he couldn’t help but feel a bit ashamed and a bit vulnerable, knowing he didn’t last as long as he would’ve hoped. When he finally gathered the courage to look you in the eye, he feared your reaction, as if he expected you to regret what just happened.

But instead you smiled, “You okay?” you asked gently.

All he managed was a small nod in response, letting out a breath as it was clear you weren’t upset in the slightest. But as his mind wandered a bit, he began to feel selfish, realizing he couldn’t make you feel as good as you made him feel. Leaving him overthinking the things he could’ve done differently.

“I’m sorry.” he then whispered gravely.

Your brows furrowed a little in concern, “For what?”

He blushed a bit with embarrassment, almost not wanting to explain his reasoning for speaking up in the first place. But your gaze remained expectant, and he knew he should answer. “For not…makin ya feel good.” he said sheepishly.

“Hey…” you said softly as you titled his head up to look at you, “You did make me feel good.”

The truth was you enjoyed yourself, even if you didn’t finish, you didn’t care. He was still new at this, and that wasn’t something you were about to shame him for.

He grew a little surprised at your admission, “But…you didn’t…” he trailed off, almost not wanting to say it out loud.

You smiled a little at his lack of words, “It was your first time, Daryl. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” you said, kissing his cheek reassuringly.

He sighed, “I know…but I wanna make ya feel good too.” he tried to explain.

“You will,” you nodded, “Practice makes perfect, right?” you said with a small wink.

He perked right up at that, the idea of doing this again with you hadn’t even crossed his mind. He assumed it would only be a one time thing, but hearing you say that sent a spark of excitement through him.

“So…there’ll be a next time?” he asked, trying to hide his hopefulness.

You laughed softly, “Only if you want there to be.”

He quickly nodded, he would have to be an absolute fool to say no to something like that. “Course I do…I want ya…as many times as you’ll let me have ya.”

Your smile widened as you leaned in to kiss him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to bring him flush against you. He groaned softly as his hands danced across your back, suddenly feeling very grateful. He almost couldn’t believe someone as kind and understanding would actually want him, but he couldn’t bring himself to question it for very long. Just simply wanting to live in the moment and not take it for granted.

“Wanna go again?” you asked against his lips.

“Mhm.” he hummed immediately as he deepened the kiss, his response not having any hint of hesitation. It made you laugh softly, feeling him already getting excited all over again. It was safe to say it was going to be an eventful night.

~ Thanks for reading!

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feeder86 · 9 months ago

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Feeder 86: The Top Ten

Can you believe that the Feeder86 ‘Orginal Gainer Stories’ blog will soon be posting the two hundredth story? I thought of many ways to celebrate. But then I stopped and realised that I would probably be best using the time to address one of the questions I get asked about most frequently. Which of the stories do I personally like the most?

This was not an easy list to make as I very rarely go back to re-read my own work after I have finished editing and posting them. This is not because I do not like them, but because I always see bits that I want to change. Nevertheless, this project was the perfect opportunity to revisit a few oldies that I remember being very proud of at the time.

Hopefully you will see this list for what it is: a glimpse into how I write, my motivations and drive; rather than just a self indulgent pat on the back for myself. Yuck!

So, with that being said, let us begin...

#10 The Feeders’ Formula: This tale certainly had to be placed into the list. After all, it is the one that kicked off ‘Original Gainer Stories’ all those years ago. There are many amazing examples of instant body weight transformation stories out there. I felt that I needed to write this one as my contribution to the genre. It went down well at the time. I swiftly wrote a Part Two, then followed it up with others (The Feeders’ Formation, The Feeders’ Formalities, The Feeders’ Foreclosure, The Feeders’ Forecast, The Feeders’ Former Years), becoming something of an ongoing saga in recent years; focusing on the different Feeders from that very first meeting. As a writer who sometimes struggles to find the ending, these are wonderful to write as they all have the same inevitable conclusion. There is also so much freedom to be had when you’re working with characters who are pretty much pure evil. I know so much more about the Feeders than I’ve ever written down, so it is great to tease out those little details with each new installment. The newest of these tales (The Feeders’ Foreplay) was the darkest yet, but seems to have provoked a very favourable reaction from many. Who knows what the Feeders may get up to next? I do! And you can find out too, once we start a whole new sweeps season of stories this April! Come with me into The Feeders' Fortress!

#9 Only One: Where do I start? Only One has my absolute favourite type of feeder. Ben is big, sexy and very in control. He’s one of those rare types of guys who always stays on top and is a step ahead of absoultely everyone he meets. Who wouldn’t fall for him? I certainly did! In fact, I loved him so much that I wrote an entire prequel for him (and none of you even noticed!) Check out Rewire if you want to see how Ben became the man we know and love.

#8 The Wright Boys: The idea of a weight gain that cannot be stopped or controlled is a tempting one for many. How much easier would it be if you didn’t have to second guess your choices or face the pressure to lose weight? This was the first tale of what I see as ‘The Curses’ saga that eventually bled into many other stories (including another one on this list!) and culminated in Wright vs Beckett. However, this story remains my personal favourite of these. If you’re a fan of looking for crossovers between my stories, these are some of the most explicitly linked. I followed it up with a spin-off tale (The Wright Boys: DNA), but continue to have ideas about how I could go back to these boys in the future. Watch this space.

#7 Making Monsters: The title of this story really does give away how I felt about it at the time. This is quite the saga, spread over into not just two, but three parts! It began as a story that was very similar to Blackmailed; a tale that I had written previously about a guy voyeristically enjoying seeing his friend fatten up her boyfriend. However, this story evolved even further for me, with Tommy’s love of eating and gaining weight being both his greatest love, and his biggest shame. His denial only heightened the tension for me, and, when he does eventually give in, the gains feel all the more satisfying as a result.

#6 The Pig Feed: It’s not easy to write a gainer story where there isn’t another character spurring the events along and encouraging things. In this tale however, that role is given to a very tasty and surprisingly addictive pig feed mixture that Steve gets himself hooked on. It’s a story that I really enjoyed writing and still feel very happy with. I have considered writing more stories around this interesting feed. However, I am yet to do so; deciding (for now at least) that things are perhaps best left as they are. But, feel free to let me know your thoughts on this.

#5 Farm Boy: Whether you grew up in a big city, or a small rural community, like Hayden in this story, we can all relate to having desires and attractions that those around us don’t understand. And, thanks to how well connected we are these days, we now know what it’s like to realise that you’re not actually alone, and the whirlwind of excited emotions that follow. I enjoyed writing this story because I, quite simply, fell completely in love with Hayden. As kinky as he was, he still retained that fresh faced innocence throughout. If any of my characters were destined to be together forever, I imagine that these two would be my top choice.

#4 Keeping a Crush: This is one of those stories that I wrote in a matter of hours, and I was so pleased with it when I was done. Getting the train to go to work is not necessarily something that many Americans have to do, and so the location had to be switched to the UK (quite refreshing, I thought!). For me, it’s one of those really rare instances where placing very solid restrictions on the structure of a story (In this case, having it all take place during the commute to and from work) and finding that it actually elevates the sexual tension and mood. All scenes take place in public settings. All conversations could, in theory, be overheard. These days, so many people meet online and flirt for weeks by messaging back and forth, before they even see each other for the first time. Nowadays, for better or for worse, the actual, real fantasy is finding a connection with someone you just see in the real world; perhaps with a person you literally just met on the way to work...

If you’ve not read this one, I really would highly recommend it.

#3 To the Max: Stories with a magical element to them are either loved or hated. However, I find that this tale walks that line very successfully. Ned gets his hands on a love potion and makes straight guy, Max, fall for him. I’m sure we’ve all been there with that fantasy! However, it is in the consequences of inviting someone into your life, someone that you actually know very little about, that the entire eroticism of this story is based. I won’t spoil it for those who have not read it, but believe me when I say that things soon start getting very interesting indeed…

#2 Tommy’s Two Hundred. Don’t recognise this one? Well, that's because none of you have read it yet.

Now, I’m not just saying this because I want you all to come back for the two hundreth story, but this is genuinely one of my absolute favourites. For my big milestone stories in the past, I have written something specifically for that event (Wright vs Beckett, The Seven Feeders of Finn). However, this is just a tale that I adored writing and decided to hold back for you all, especially for this occasion. It’s a story of domination and submission within a fairly open, but very kinky, relationship. Strapping Hunter plays the part of a very controlling feeder, making me break many of my own rules and stretching my boundaries to the absolute limits. You’ll either love him, or you’ll hate him. That’s all I’m going to say…

Also, this story is going to be the first Feeder86 story that will be fully illustrated. It’s all thanks to the amazing talents of Spellwell9 who was given an advanced copy and asked to imagine the characters in four different scenes. I cannot wait for you to see this!

Put it in your diary. All will be revealed from Friday 5th April…

#1 F80 Control: This is perhaps a controvercial choice (especially as my #1). I have previously admitted that this story strays a little from its purpose of being a gainer story. In other words, I get very caught up in the background story that is being told. However, I feel that the science fiction genre is surprisingly underused in tales of weight gain. Yet, the combination of Aritificial Intelligence and submission seemed, to me, to be the perfect blend. It really is a beast of a story if you can follow it all the way through to its conclusion.

With the advent of improved artificial intelligence software in recent years, I felt the time was right to develop the world further, with the addition of F80 Ctrl Alt Del; a spin-off tale set slightly before the main story. Then, unable to help myself, I followed this up again with another companion story, F80: Kidnap and Control.

The reason I chose this universe as my favourite is because this is where I am happiest writing. With AI, I don’t need to consider the morality or motivations - I know exactly what their aims are and I can see multiple ways in which it will cause conflict with humanity (and their waistlines!) I would also love to write more for this world one day, and I even left a little unused subplot in the last story that I think would provide the perfect starting-off point for another chapter. Will I ever write it? Well, we’ll have to wait and see…

So, there you have it! The the complete list!

This was a much harder exercise than I expected when I first embarked upon it. Stories like: Jiggle the Jock, Meticulous, Rule Number One, Freaks, Leftovers I and II, Ethan: The Secret Feeder and, not fogetting The Consequences I, II and III all crept in and out of the list, unfortunatley missing out on the final cut. There are many, many others, of course. But this list cannot go on forever...

So, why not tell me which ones were your favourites? Feel free to write in the comments and post a link to any other stories that you have enjoyed from myself, or from other authors. Hopefully, if we all work together, this could become a great resource for people in the future, filled with signposts and reccommendations.

Also, don’t forget the Feeder86 Contents page where you can find links and descriptions of all the 200 stories posted so far (as well as plot outlines for upcoming tales as well). Please continue to enjoy the vast catalogue of stories, and even have a go yourself! I love supporting the many new gainer fiction writers who contact me. So please do get in touch if you need advice, or to talk through your ideas. Let’s all encourage a whole new generation of people to get typing away! I’m sure you will cheer them on just as much as I will.

Thank you to everyone who supports the stories blog here on Tumblr. Keep checking in every Friday througout April for a whole new sweeps season to celebrate this milestone. Stories will include: Tommy's Two Hundred, Train for a Gain, The Feeders' Fortress and The 1% (a companion story to The 5%). For now, I thank you all for taking time out to sit and read the very bizarre tales that sprout from my mind. You are all wonderful.

Happy 200 stories!

Feeder86

#gainer fiction #gainer stories #gainerstory #gayfeeder #gainerfic #gainer story #gayfeedee #gay feedee #gainerstories

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wileys-russo · 5 months ago

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just like mummy II l.williamson

in the same universe as legacy and little golfer

"mila! mil? mila?" leah called out with a frown, poking her head in each room with a frown that deepened each time she didn't find her daughter.

"okay bubba this isn't funny we need to leave soon!" leah's voice wavered as she ducked down, checking under the beds with a huff as again she came up empty.

"mila? mummy isn't joking we really need to leave!" leahs chest tightened a little as she went room to room hunting for the four year old.

normally you took charge when it came to getting your daughter ready of a morning before training, but considering today was pre season media day you'd had meetings set earlier than leahs so you'd already left before the four year old was up.

normally mila was the very first awake of the three of you but last night she'd been particularly stubborn about refusing to go to bed which leah had promised to take care of after almost two hours of trying to get her settled, practically locking you in the bathroom to shower.

when you'd finished you'd found them both curled up on the lounge in front of the tv, passed out together with a rerun of the euros playing on the large screen.

so with a much later bedtime than normal she'd actually slept in to the point leahs alarm had gone off and she was stunned to be alone in bed, expecting a four year old lump curled up on the end of her bed as usual like a cat.

"ready!" the blonde almost jumped out of her skin as tiny footsteps sounded behind her.

"i look like you! wanted to match today." the girl grinned, one of leahs arsenal kits hanging down on her like a dress and her feet drowned in a pair of football boots and socks which continued to fall down.

"stay up!" the smaller blonde huffed yanking at them with a scowl which if you'd been there you'd have commented was near identical to leahs own.

"oh mila." leah chuckled, relief flooding her body replaced quickly with amusement. "you have boots! lets go find them you monkey." the blonde laughed, scooping up her daughter and tossing her over her shoulder.

"mama!" you looked away from the interviewer at the familiar scream, hiding a laugh at the way your wife grabbed the back of your daughters top trying to restrain her, other hand barely holding together her own bag as well as mila's, lia hurrying over to lend a hand.

"thats us pretty much done anyway." the interviewer smiled kindly, nodding for you to go as you thanked them and shook hands, standing up and heading over to where a small riot had taken place as mila's aunties all fought over who got a hug first.

"excuse me i think i take priority." you called out over the squabbling, leah almost taken to the floor by the force in which your daughter pulled to get to you, letting go and catching her footing as a small body slammed into your legs.

"mama you weren't there when i woke up." mila frowned as you smiled and smoothed her creased eyebrows out with your thumb, squatted down to be at her level.

"i know, but remember i told you i had to come to work early? to take pictures." you poked her stomach a few times eliciting a giggle. "oh yeah. hey look! i match mummy." mila perked back up, taking a step back and doing a spin.

"you didn't want to match me?" you gasped in mock offence, mila shaking her head with a cheeky smile and running back to leah before you could grab her.

"no i'm mummys little gunner."

it was around an hour later when the day took a turn, mila having been passed around between your teammates as you and leah fulfilled your interviews and commitments.

you were doing a few tiktoks with laia for barclays when you were interrupted by your best friend, whispering something to one of the producers who frowned but nodded.

"williamson, you're needed. can someone go find pelova to take her place please?"

confused you stepped aside, alessia grabbing your hand without another word and tugging you away. "where are we going?" you questioned with a frown. "we have a problem." the blonde sighed, refusing to elaborate much more as she pulled you out of the main room.

"wait is it mila? is she hurt? sick? do we need an ambulance?" you began to panic as you were pulled toward the change rooms. "yes, no, no, not yet." alessia answered which didn't help ease your anxiety.

"not yet!" you exclaimed though as the taller girl pulled you into the change rooms and you saw the sight in front of you, suddenly things all made sense.

"oh my god."

"just like mummy!" mila cheered, sat on the bench on lia's lap with a horrendously self cut attempt at a fringe, safety scissors confiscated and a very guilty looking kyra hovering about nearby.

"what. happened." you exhaled unable to drag your gaze away from your daughters new haircut.

"she was with kyra and i and we were colouring. then she asked for some scissors and we assumed she was going to cut out the picture from her book to show you and leah and well we looked away for like one minute and..." lia began to explain, trailing off gesturing to mila's forehead and her new 'bangs'.

"mila.." you exhaled, dragging your hands down your face as alessia rubbed your back gently. "mummy got a hair cut, so i got a hair cut." the four year old beamed clearly very proud of herself.

"has leah seen-" "nope."

though you may have jinxed it as footsteps sounded and the woman i question arrived, mila's bag in hand ready to tell the pair of you that you were all free to head to lunch.

"leah. it was an accident love, breathe." you grabbed your wifes arms watching her face change as she took in mila's haircut and the scissors sitting idly by, mouth opening and closing as she looked around the room.

"kyra. we need to go outside...for a little chat." leah warned, voice calm and face anything but as she didn't even wait for someone to explain before deciding who she was blaming for this.

"leah-" the girl couldn't even get a word out before she sprinted off, your wife quick to follow her as mila just giggled and you sighed, alessia's hand coming to sit on her shoulder.

"now i think we might need that ambulance."

#woso community #woso #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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nadvs · 5 months ago

Note

What if sleeping with the enemy rafe accidentally calls reader his gf but neither of them seem to mind 🤭

OBSESSED WITH THIS 🤭

based on this fic

rafe has had too much to drink. tonight’s game secured his team a position in the championship finals. they had to celebrate. one shot became two became however many it takes to make the room start spinning.

he’s sprawled out on the couch at a party at one of the student houses on campus. everyone’s loud and rowdy and excitable. he’s exhausted and sore after the game, but he’s just as wired.

at this point, he texts her anytime there’s a party because he likes her being around. she’s on the other side of the room with a couple of the friends she brought, laughing at how shit-faced rafe is.

“should you be here?” one of his teammates slurs with a drunk smile, approaching her and her friends.

“no,” she replies light-heartedly. they shouldn’t be at a party celebrating another team’s win, especially theirs, but she stopped caring about the rivalry a long time ago. “you’re the bad guys.”

“you’re the bad guys,” he responds, pointing at her, but he loses his balance and nearly stumbles on top of her.

rafe’s seeing stars but he’s conscious enough to realize his teammate almost just knocked her over. he stands and crosses the room, putting a heavy arm around her, shielding her from his friend.

“you tryin’ to tackle my girlfriend? the fuck’s wrong with you?” rafe drawls. his mind catches up with what he just said. he looks down at her. “i mean, uh… my…”

“you’re hammered,” she laughs. she doesn’t mind the slip-up. she knows they’re friends. but her mind has drifted to the possibility of being more a few times.

rafe falls into a fit of laughter, raking a hand through his hair.

“i’m hammered,” he echoes. “you see all those three-pointers i got tonight?”

“you’ve only mentioned it like a hundred times,” she says. really, she’s thrilled to see him so happy. he’s been working hard this season. he deserved the win. “let’s get you some water. follow me.”

when they reach the quiet kitchen tucked at the back of the house, rafe slouches over the counter as she fills a glass with water.

she watches him drink it, surprised at how far he’s come since they started hooking up. he was never the type to let people tell him what to do, but she just ordered him to follow her and he listened. she’s pretty sure that at this point, she’d tell him to jump and he’d ask how high.

at a party last weekend, he mentioned that she’s his best friend. she told him that he’s hers. but the term girlfriend sounded so good coming out of his mouth.

he drains the glass and then she turns to fill it again.

“i don’t need that much,” he complains.

“you need a lot to hydrate so you don’t feel like shit tomorrow,” she says. “you’re like ten feet tall.”

he laughs again.

“i don’t get hungover,” rafe says.

“that’s a lie,” she chuckles. she offers him the full glass, deciding to tease him. “you shouldn’t lie to your girlfriend.”

rafe rolls his eyes and swallows down the water, but her words sober him up a little bit. he lowers the glass, his lips gleaming with moisture. she stands in front of him, tempted to kiss him.

he stares down at her, gazing into her eyes, and the thought of her wanting some sort of commitment to him is oddly thrilling.

“you’re going to be so embarrassed that you said that,” she laughs.

“no, i’m not,” he says quickly. he may be drunk but that, he knows for sure.

tension sits between them. the reason their whole deal works is because they’re direct with each other. honest. it’s a knee-jerk reaction of his to tell her exactly what he’s thinking. but what he’s thinking right now could shift things. maybe even break them.

she’s frozen. they say drunk words are sober thoughts, so maybe rafe really does see her as his girlfriend. they definitely act like a couple at this point.

“what kind of boyfriend would you even be?” she eventually says. instead of laughing off the prospect of being in a relationship with anyone like he always does, he answers after he takes another sip of water.

“a good one,” he says. “i’m good at everything.“

“your humility is so inspiring,” she replies sarcastically.

their words sound like jokes, but the looks they’re sharing are utterly serious. it’s unusual not to be laughing together, chiding like friends. the air is heavy. awkward.

but it’s also incredibly natural.

“you sleeping over tonight?” rafe asks, eyes traveling over her face.

she’s only slept over a handful of times, when the sex was so tiring she couldn’t imagine making her way home. sleeping over feels coupley. but here he is, asking her to.

and she could make a joke about him just wanting a private nurse for his inevitable hangover in the morning. but it feels cruel to tease him when he’s being so vulnerable, looking at her like she might actually have the power to hurt him. to hurt someone so strong and loud and unpenetrable.

“yeah,” she replies simply.

rafe nods, unable to tear his eyes off of her.

“finish that,” she says, looking down at the half-full glass.

“i don’t have to listen to you,” rafe tells her. but he brings the glass back up to his lips, mirroring her smile.

he definitely doesn’t have to let her boss him around. but he’s going to, whether he wants to or not, because that’s the effect she has on him.

(the next morning)

#ask #swteblurb #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron and y/n

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sophsbookstore · 6 months ago

Text

Somebody Come Get Her

Lando Norris x driver!reader ｡･:*˚:��｡

Masterlist can be found in navigation!

Word count: 1,627

“I'm literally fine!” She is not fine. Infact Y/N is the drunkest she's been in a while.

After placing in the points at the Montreal Grand prix, while simultaneously celebrating her friend's second place win, Y/N decided that getting absolutely wasted in Montreal was the best thing for herself to do.

“Y/N how many shots have you taken?” A concerned Lando Norris questions his best friend.

“This many.” Y/N says, holding up two middle fingers in front of Landos face.

Lando tried to hold in his laughter, Y/N wasn't a big party girl. Sure she would always accompany the rest of the grid out to parties after races, she usually doesn't drink that often, going a little crazy once a season, but never this crazy.

“I'm going to get you some water, please don't drink anything while I'm gone, okay?” Lando scolds Y/N. “Can I trust you won't do anything stupid?”. When the girl gives him a thumbs up he takes it as his sign to move, quickly walking to the bar, Y/N books it to the other side of the club, spotting a small group of wag’s sitting together.

Not even thinking twice she bolts to the other side of the tight Montreal club, speed walking as fast as her designer heels can take her. Lily Z spots her, not really the party girl herself notices Y/N practically falling over herself trying to get to them.

Laughing, Lily taps one of the girls on the shoulder, they all turn to face Y/N instantly getting up and running to the girl with drunken excitement.

“Holy fuck you guys are so hot.” Y/N blushes, giving each girl a compliment before finding Lily in the back of the group. Y/N clings onto the Australian for dear life, Lily doing her best to hold half of Y/N’s body weight.

The girls walk back over to their couch in the VIP section of the club, all of them talking over one another while house music blasts throughout the small room. Back at the bar Lando is constantly looking over his shoulder, trying his best to find Y/N, making sure she stays near him.

Just as he thought, when the bartender finally hands him his drinks she's gone. “Of course she's gone.” Lando scolds himself for thinking that she would have actually stayed.

Placing his hand over the top of her drink, Lando aimlessly walks around the club, trying to find Y/N so he can take her home. Back at the couch the girls are starting to move to the dance floor, all of them going crazy for the international house music being played on the speaker.

As Y/N spins around, her eye catches something in the middle of the club, a pole. The pole is placed in the middle of the club, sitting atop an LED podium. Throughout the whole night many people have drunkenly got on it and sloppily spun around. “Look!” Y/N shouts, all the girls following her line of vision to the pole.

“I need it!” before anyone can say anything Y/N sprints to the empty pole, practically jumping onto it before spinning around. The sudden movement of the pole triggers the people around to stare at the girl. For being absolutely wasted Y/N managed to do pretty well for herself, random girls at the club shoving money in her bra as her friends and random patrons cheer or record on their phones.

The sudden cheering alerts Lando, a big crowd of people move toward the center of the club, Lando turns, seeing what he feared most. Knowing this was going to be a PR disaster for Y/N if the videos got out he abandons her drink on a random table, moving quickly through the crowd covering any camera he can in the process.

“Excuse me, pardon me, sorry.” Lando says to complete strangers before making it to the base of the pole. Without a second thought he grabs her arm, pulling her into him. Drunk off her ass Y/N collides into Landos chest. “Come on, I'm taking you home.” Lando snakes his arm around Y/N’s waist, moving the two of them closer to the door as another girl jumps onto the pole.

“Why did you do that? I was having so much fun.” Y/N pulls away from Lando, folding her arms in front of herself, trying to get some stability.

“Y/N come on, you're too drunk right now.'' Lando puts his hands on his hips, the both of them knowing she has no chance in this fight.

“I'm staying, that's final.” Y/N turns away from Lando, walking back to the big group before suddenly she's swept off her feet. Lando kneels down next to Y/N grabbing her waist once more before throwing her over his shoulder.

Holding onto the back of her knees, Lando pulls his keys out of his pocket as he walks toward the exit of the club, eyes following the pair as they walk away. “Damn Lando, why didn't you ever say anything about this dumpy back here?” Y/N giggles, her face against his lower back.

Lando laughs, carrying her all the way to his car. He holds the door open for her, helping her into the front seat before buckling her in. Lando quickly moves to the other side of the car, typing in Y/N’s hotel a few blocks away, before starting the car and driving off.

“Oh shit!” Y/N shouts, pulling the money out of her stuffed bra. “I'm rich!” She cheers, throwing the money all over Landos car.

“Where did you get all of this?” Lando says, picking up a twenty from the dashboard.

“People just kept giving them to me, I ate.” Y/N shrugs. Lando smiles at the girl, Y/N turns her attention to the window beside her, resting her head against the glass as her eyes start to shut.

Lando plays some soft music to help Y/N fall asleep, within seconds she's out. The drive doesn't take long, about fifteen minutes, when Lando parks he takes a minute to admire the girl beside him, carefully tucking a loose hair behind her ear to wake her up.

Y/N stirs in her sleep, Lando whispering for her to wake up as he goes to her door to help her out. With a combination of alcohol and sleep deprivation it's a miracle Lando got Y/N to her room, avoiding eye contact with guests and staff on his way to the elevator.

Lando lets the both of them into her room, helping Y/N into bed before placing Advil and water next to her bed. “You're so hot.” Y/N whispers, her glassy eyes stare at Lando.

“You're so drunk.”

“It doesn't mean I can't point out the obvious.” Y/N shrugs, closing her eyes and pulling the comforter close to her body.

“I'll see you in the morning, Y/N.” Lando smiles, setting up a “bedroom" for himself in the living room.

Lando spent the whole night thinking about Y/N, her dancing at the club, what she said before she went to bed. Lando has liked Y/N ever since they joined Formula 1 together, the two have always been inseparable, an iconic duo in motorsport.

CLACK! “Fuck!” The sound of something falling, quickly followed by a semi quiet swear, wakes Lando up.

A shirtless Lando moves his head toward the sound, his gaze falling upon Y/N wearing a tank top and plaid pajama pants. The pair look at one another, Lando notices her wet hair and beautiful bare face.

“Goodmorning!” Y/N gives lando an awkward smile.

“Good Morning to you too.” Lando gets off the couch, stretching before walking over to Y/N, the girl's eyes looking him up and down before the two become face to face.

“Be honest, how drunk I was last night.” Y/N grabs a banana off the counter.

“Honest?” Y/N nods, wanting to know what stupid thing she did. “There was a pole at the club, it may have gotten a lap dance from a certain female driver.”

Y/N drops her banana, her face getting hotter by the second as she covers her mouth in shock. “No I didn't.'' Lando decided that he wouldn't tell her about how many strangers filmed the whole moment. “Please tell me that was it.”

“You told me I’m hot, which boosted my ego an unhealthy amount.” Lando laughs.

“Oh, that's not that bad.” Y/N shrugs, picking the banana up off the floor. “You are.” She starts unpeeling the banana, taking a bite out of it before going to get a cup of water.

Lando was shocked, too stund to speak. Y/N turns around laughing at Lando’s expression. “What, you seriously didn't know?”

“Know what?” The man quickly asks.

“I've had a crush on you for the longest time, I thought it was so obvious!” She finishes the water, throwing away the remainder of her breakfast.

“You gotta be kidding me.” Y/N stares at Lando, trying her best to read his emotions. “I've had a crush on YOU for the longest time!” Lando explains, both their smiles getting bigger and bigger.

“Well then what the hell are we waiting for!” Y/N steps closer to Lando. “Can I kiss you right now?”

“Always.” Lando replies, taking Y/N face in his hands before kissing her passionately.

“Finally.” Y/N says as the two pull away from one another. “But seriously, remind me to never drink in Canada again.”

#lando norris one shot #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris #lando x reader #lando norris x y/n #formula 1 #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris x driver!reader

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formulawolff · 5 months ago

Text

the (not so subtle) art of a crush - t.w.

pairing: female driver!reader x toto wolff

word count: 777

warnings: toto being down bad, some teasing, sexual innuendos, one-sided yearning, yadayadayada

a/n: this was a request made by an anon (i believe!) this is also sort of a spin-off of fanboy behavior, which i absolutely adored writing. i think yearning (and well.. down bad) toto is my favorite toto to write! i hope y'all enjoy! <3

"and tell me," the driver's accent is crisp as he licks his lips, "why do you need help creating an instagram account again?"

"nothing major," a figure shrugs, fiddling with a loose thread in his wrinkled white polo, "i just want to stay in the loop. that's all."

"toto," a new voice chimes in, "you have never once mentioned wanting an instagram, or any social media really, until now. what is going on?"

"nothing major," toto wolff exhales, rolling his eyes, "you all have it, so why can't i?"

"because you're ancient?" lewis hamilton scoffs, arching a brow, "you're probably going to need a step-by-step tutorial on how to navigate the platform."

"i think i can figure that one out myself you know," toto hisses, jaw clenching as his drivers stare blankly, "if five year-olds can do it, i can do it."

"let me see your phone," george russell extends an arm, waving his fingers, "i'll get your account set up."

"i-i," the team principal stammers, heat billowing into his cheeks, "i-i don't know if i necessarily need help with that."

"are you blushing?" lewis purses his lips, a devious smirk forming as the dots connect, "mate, do you have something in there that you don't want us to see?"

only approximately one hundred and two screenshots of a certain williams driver. three or four videos. all of which were screen recordings from various interviews.

his cherished clips. ones he watched every night before he drifted off.

all of which were not tucked away into the hidden folder of his camera roll.

speaking of which, he may have to figure out how to do that. with three kids, an ex-wife, and two nosy drivers, his phone was an easy target. he probably needed to set up a passcode as well.

the lengths he was going to over a crush. a fucking crush.

well, was it a really a crush?

or more like an infatuation?

that was a question for another time. he had two drivers in his office at the moment, circling around him like vultures, eager to pick him apart.

"nothing of your interest," toto retorts, in a vain attempt to maintain his composure, "nothing, really."

"got someone's nudes in there?" lewis coos, tilting his head, "or even worse, a sex tape?"

"lewis," george brings a hand to his temple, "what on earth is wrong with you?"

"what, mate?" lewis throws his hands in the air, "i'm just giving him shit."

"shit he clearly does not want," george mutters, "toto, if you need help setting up an account, just facetime me. don't try to text me. it's much easier to explain over a call than written directions."

"or he can just go on wikihow," lewis offers, "they have guides on just about everything."

oh, really?

did they have a guide on how to navigate the unbearable weight of yearning for a woman thirty years your junior? a woman on a rival team? a crush so bad that it was beginning to snake its way into every aspect of your life? consume your every waking thought?

a crush so intense that you had already spoken to members of the williams crew?

his next target was james, whom he was planning on meeting and speaking with after the next press conference. that was in about a week's time, at third grand prix of the season.

fuck, this was embarrassing, really.

but he wanted more.

actually, he needed more.

he craved it.

he needed to gather all of the possible information and intel as he could. her likes and dislikes. her favorite foods and the ones that were so vile they made her throw up. what kept her up at night. what music she preferred to listen to on race day. what drinks she indulged in. what animals she loved. what made her so unbelievably pissed off she couldn't think straight.

he wanted to catch a glimpse inside of her mind.

all of the things that could possibly buzz around inside of that beautiful head.

really, he just wanted to learn what she was composed of.

her childhood memories, the ones she spoke of with that sweet fondness in her voice. the delicate aspects of her life that she cherished, beaming from ear to ear. the things she feared. how she expressed her love. the people she adored.

everything.

he wanted to know it all.

and following her instagram account, along with her various other socials would prove to be the first step in accessing that plethora of information.

at least it was a step in the right direction.

even if his drivers were giving him hell for it.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ taglist ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

@noooway555 @s-awturn @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @lokideservesahug @fore45fore @eattothebeatt @statuewoman @sarah10r-blog @lavenderandlace @racecardilfs @bblouifford @irishmanwhore @jhobi18 @roseandtulips @simply-the-best23

#toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #formula 1 #f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #toto wolff x you #alkaline: female driver! x toto wolff #alkaline series #alkaline #toto wolff x y/n #formula one #mercedes amg petronas #lewis hamilton #george russell

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 25 days ago

Note

I know that there are a lot of feelings right now, and everyone is absolutely entitled to them. The announcement certainly hit hard.

I did, however, want to add a little bit of my own hope into the mix. Maybe it won't matter. But maybe it will help someone feel just a bit better about everything.

For context, someone on Reddit made an excellent point that 90 minutes is plenty of time to tell a great story. Many have been told in less than that. Lion King, Nightmare Before Christmas, Beauty and the Beast, Totoro, I could go on.

I completely agreed with them. But I also wanted to add my own personal spin as well.

When you really get down to it, the plot of season two was truly only compromised of 90 minutes worth of plot between A + C. Maybe even less than.

A lot of it was drawing out a mystery that didn't need to be as long as it was. As much as I love me some putzing and meandering, seeing this entire 90 minute drama go down has made me realize just how weak season two was.

Did I love it? Hell yes.

But I'm also realizing that the plot wasn't tight.

Most of the memorable moments are comprised of seconds of screentime.

Not minutes.

Seconds.

The touching of Aziraphale's hand to Crowley's chest

"Look at you, you're gorgeous."

Hands touching during dancing

The final speech and kiss

Michael Sheen's bitchy little eyebrow raise

Michael Sheen eye fucking Crowley every chance he gets

Just Michael Sheen's quiet, quick acting choices in general

When breaking it down, most of what mattered added up to less than 90 minutes, with the rest of it being unfocused and dithering.

Now imagine 90 minutes. 90 minutes of focus on these two characters. No chance for meandering, no opportunity to wander off. These two will be forced to confront their issues, their grief, their resilience, their LOVE with nothing to pull us away. There won't be time for side characters to take the focus. There won't be time to worry about other relationships or spending time apart.

This is going to be about them because it can't waste time on anything else.

AND ANOTHER THING.

I keep seeing people saying "90 minutes isn't enough time to tie up all the loose ends". And to that I say...

What loose ends?

We really only have two. The second apocalypse and their love.

And to those who say 90 minutes isn't enough to stop an apocalypse, I counter with; season 1 stopped it in 5 minutes while they stood on what was essentially a parking lot. And they were side characters at that point.

In conclusion: we will be okay. Would I have loved six episodes to watch them circle one another? Sure. But I have spent more time reading fanfiction of them than watching the actual show, and those writers have created better scenarios than Neil Gaimen ever could. The kind of stories that would make Terry Pratchett proud.

We will get what we need. Because the people who fought for this love these characters. And because David and Michael would personally square up with Jeff Bezos in a parking lot just to be able to lock lips on screen again and again in a cottage by the sea

We will be okay. More than that, we will thrive.♡🖤

❤.

#ask

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ohbueckers · 2 months ago

Text

TWO CAN PLAY THAT GAME. i’m not scared of it, she ain’t either.

CHAPTER SIX! pairing, paige bueckers x teammate!oc. notes, hey… writers block got my ass but i’m backkk. decided this fic will be split into two separate parts (ish) the 22-23 season is mostly just lore filling but hopefully still enjoyable, and then the second will be 23-24. enjoy sugarsss warnings, sexual content.

october, 2022

“shots on me!”

my head shoots up to find the source of the sound, and of course, it’s paige. she’s basking in the sudden attention so well you’d be surprised that we had to convince her to come. the whole table cheers like it’s the greatest news they’ve heard all night, and i watch, a faint smile on my face as she strolls over to the bar, keeping her promise.

i lean back in my chair, adjusting my neck that had just been previously broken to look back at her. i glance over at the propped up phone in front of ice, the tiktok livestream running with a small handful of views climbing by the minute. i grin, dramatic, before draping both of my arms over ice’s shoulders and resting my head against her, leaning into the moment. “guys, pour one up for isuneh staying responsible tonight!” i joke, exaggerating my voice.

ice laughs, nudging me with her elbow but not enough to push me off. “you gotta chill,” she says, turning slightly toward the camera with a smirk. “you see what i have to deal with? sana thinks she’s funny.”

i glare at her, playfully removing my arms from around her. “know so,” i retort.

before i can settle back into the noise of the room, nika and aubrey have made their way over, and are now fully invested in entertaining the growing comments. they start playing it up, making faces and gesturing wildly at the camera while ice chuckles, leaning into it all. sober or not, it was really easy to have a good time with this team.

i let myself sink into my own world for a moment, head spinning just slightly as i pull out my phone again, this time to stare at the birthday post i’d put up for paige earlier. i didn’t want to stare at it, but it had been getting a lot of traction. the first slide is a video from one of our late-night sessions at the gym—a grainy shot of paige casually sinking a full-court shot, her back to the camera. she’d turned around just in time to see the ball swish clean through the net, flashing that smug smile she always gave when she knew she was about to show off. it was late, maybe around midnight, and i remember being just tired enough to think i might’ve imagined it if i hadn’t caught it on film.

when the video ended, my other post appeared. it was a photo from the first official day of practice earlier in october that the media team had took and posted. paige, clad in her #5 workout tee had my head snuggled in between her arms, smiling wide as ever, while i on the other hand had one hand wrapped around her torso, the other on my side, smiling all picture-perfect.

a great resemblance of our dynamic if you asked me.

the caption had been simple enough. happy birthday to this blonde lady i found. backcourt next year will go braaazzzy 🏆. i didn’t think much of it, really, but the more i thought about it, the more insane it must’ve looked that sana caruso was now all buddy-buddy with paige bueckers.

not acquainted, friends.

i smiled at it for another beat before locking my phone, leaning back against the chair with a sigh. i’d been distant most of the night, i suppose. practice earlier hadn’t exactly gone the way i wanted it to, and it was messing with me. paige might’ve been injured, but i was starting, and expectations were high—higher than usual this season, which i hadn’t completely came to terms with yet, and i needed to. soon.

“sana, you’re going to be a huge part of this team this year. we need you to step up—not just as a scorer, but as a leader.” geno’s voice was gruff, his eyes on mine. “you’ve got it in you, but you’ve been holding back. let’s see the player we recruited. the one we know you are.”

sure it wasn’t meant to be much more than a pep talk, but i’m way too much of an over thinker for words like those not to stick. i have been holding back. i do need to step up for a team that had just become mine.

lost in that thought, i didn’t notice paige approaching until a shot glass slid in front of me, barely stopping before it hit my hand.

“i meant you too, ruso,” she said, a sly grin spreading across her face as she leaned in, making sure i knew she was talking to me.

i grinned at her, realizing i hadn’t been drinking as much as the others tonight. not that it was a bad thing—after practice earlier, i needed to keep my head straight—but then again, this was paige’s birthday. maybe it was time to let loose a little, and paige was good at that.

“what is it?” i asked, lifting the glass to my lips and tipping it back easily before getting an answer.

much to my dismay, i probably should’ve waited for paige’s response. vodka. i coughed lightly as the burn hit, squeezing my eyes shut for a second as the heat rushed through me. of course, she’d pick the strongest thing on the menu. i should’ve known better.

paige laughed, eyes following mine as she watched me recover. “you good, ma? thought you could hang with me.”

i shook my head, glaring at her. “i can hang. just didn’t expect gasoline.”

she leaned in closer, her breath warm against my neck. “that’s the point. birthday girl gets the good stuff.” i can feel her eyes on me, following my movements as she pipes up, “why you been wall sittin’ all night?”

i chuckle, looking up at her taller figure through my lashes. only for a moment though. my attention drifted back to the empty shot glass in front of me, twirling it absentmindedly between my fingers. “don’t worry about me,” i shoo her playfully. “my phone’s been blowing up, though. let’s talk about that,” i then state simply, raising an eyebrow.

paige smiles smugly, letting out a breathy laugh. “you know they eat that shit up.”

i smile, too—shaking my head. “yeah, maybe. or they just like you too much.”

paige grabs hold of the shot glass, forcing my attention to advert to her. “you like me too much.”

our eyes met, and i caught how she sized me up. her blue eyes were dangerously low, almost hungry. the heat from the vodka wasn’t just in my throat anymore; it was creeping up my neck, and i didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or from the way paige was watching me. her tongue darted out, swiping across her lips, and i needed to get out of this chair.

like, now.

i swallowed—not visibly as i pushed past the sudden tension and mumbled, “c’mon.” i motioned toward the bar. paige smirked, lips glistening from her spit as she held her hand out for me to take, and i hesitated for just a second before sliding my hand into hers.

she helped me down from the bar stool easily, her opposite steadying me, and then we were strolling over together, her fingers still loosely wrapped around mine. it was so normal, like it didn’t mean anything, but we both knew it did.

we strolled over to the bar, and paige was quick to order another round. things felt relatively normal at first, just the two of us, but only got worse after every shot. i’d even taught paige that the real culprit for a night like this wasn’t vodka but tequila. naturally, she’d laughed me off, but the alcohol in my bloodstream had me ordering a mojito, daring her to try it. paige, never one to back down from a challenge, grabbed the glass from my hand before i could even take a sip.

“you’ve been over here way too long,” i said, my voice lower now, the words slipping out with a hint of something i couldn’t quite control. i leaned against the bar, chin propped up in my hand. “it’s your birthday.”

paige raised a brow. her back was against the bar, her eyes flashing as she looked ahead, shrugging. “i’m exactly where i wanna be.”

i licked my lips. “right. and that’s stuck over here with me?” i shouldn’t have asked. i knew the answer.

paige turned toward me, leaning one arm against the counter, her body now fully angled in my direction. “yeah, somethin’ like that. that a problem?”

her gaze dropped to my lips for a second, just long enough to make me forget how to breathe properly. i shifted, trying to keep cool, but she was too damn close now. “guess not,” i muttered.

“good,” she murmured back immediately, her lips curving into that half-smile. there was this constant back and forth between us—like some game of who would have the upper hand of the day, and right now, it was paige. it was all paige.

her eyes flicked down again, and i internally wanted to curse at her. my throat tightened—but i couldn’t look away. “paige—“ i started, and my voice was barely there.

“yeah?” she asked, eyes still locked on me. every inch of her body screamed focus, intent.

“we should regroup.” i nodded towards our teammates, but paige was stilled.

“right.”

i swallowed hard, knowing exactly where this was headed, feeling the pull in the pit of my stomach. “we can’t do this here,” i whispered, a last-ditch effort to keep my head straight as i began chewing on my bottom lip. we were even closer now, and i couldn’t comprehend when that had happened either.

paige smirked, tilting her head and blinking slowly. the gold chain that sat so nicely on her chest swung slightly as she shifted her weight. my mind was racing, trying to remind myself of all the reasons why this was a bad idea—why i shouldn’t, why we couldn’t. “why not?”

i swallowed. my throat was dry. “people. the team.”

paige furrowed her eyebrows, nodding like it was obvious. “oh, yeah. for sure.” but she didn’t budge. and i swore she was moving closer.

before i could stop myself, i sighed out, almost dreamily, like i’d had some pressure built up. “but i wanna.” damn that fucking vodka.

paige nodded, eyes glued to my lips. “mhm? wanna what, ma?”

and before i could come up with a response that was any less desperate than the last to redeem myself, before i could stop myself, i closed the gap.

━━━

her lips were soft. softer than that night in the car if that were possible.

we were stumbling, half-laughing, half-drunkenly colliding down an empty hallway, our hands everywhere and nowhere all at once. my back hit the wall first, and her body pressed into mine, the weight of her against me felt… perfect. sana’s hands were in my hair, pulling slightly, like she absolutely needed to feel me, and i wasn’t about to complain.

i could feel the cool tile behind me, but all that mattered was the heat between us. my hand slid up her neck, fingers resting just under her jaw, and i heard her gasp against my lips. fucking perfect.

“fuck,” i muttered between kisses, my voice a little more breathless than i wanted it to be. “you kiss like you been waitin’ on this.”

she laughed softly, the sound vibrating against my lips. “maybe i have.”

i pulled back just enough to see her eyes, barely able to catch my breath. my hand tightened around her neck as i leaned in again, dragging my lips across hers, speaking right against her skin. her skin was damp, mine too, probably. “you know you could’ve had this whenever you wanted it, baby.”

she didn’t pull back, just let her hands explore the length of my torso. “couldn’t have. you’re you.” sana’s grip on my hips tightened, pulling me flush against her as she pressed her lips back to mine. this time, there was no holding back. the kiss deepened, hungry, like she was making up for all the times she thought she couldn’t. i let her take what she wanted, but damn if i wasn’t right there with her, needing her just as badly.

“bathroom?” i mumbled. my mouth moved to her neck, peppering kisses down her skin, tasting the heat of her pulse.

sana’s breath hitched, and she nodded, her hands gripping the back of my shirt. “bathroom, yeah.”

luckily, it was empty. it was a thursday after all. we barely made it inside before i was hoisting her up, my hands gripping her thighs as she arched on the counter. the brighter light in here felt like a spotlight, like there was no hiding now—not that either of us wanted to. her breath hitched as i moved my mouth lower, kissing down her neck, my fingers sliding into the waistband of her jeans and hastily pulling them down.

i dropped to my knees without warning, and i could feel sana tense under my hands, her breath coming out in quick, shallow bursts as i knelt in front of her. our eyes locked, and i swear i’d never seen a prettier sight. my fingers skimmed up her thighs, spreading them wider, my lips brushing just below her waistband. i didn’t say anything—didn’t need to. her own hands gripped the counter beside her, knuckles turning white, like she was holding herself steady for what was about to come next.

i dipped my head, my mouth meeting her with no more waiting, no teasing. sana’s body jolted, and the sound she made—it sent a jolt straight through me. she tried to stifle it, biting her lip, but there was no hiding how much she wanted this.

her hips shifted forward instinctively, and i didn’t let up, pulling her closer, needing to feel every little reaction i could get. i let her legs drape over my shoulders, my hands gripping her thighs tighter as i took my time—and God, does she taste like a fucking fruit.

i felt her hands in my hair, tugging at the strands, and that’s when i pulled back just enough to speak, my voice low and rough, “had me thinkin’ you were innocent…” i couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at my lips as i dove right back in, the taste of her driving me crazy. “nah… you a freak.”

sana’s breath hitched again as her head fell back against the mirror, eyes squeezing shut. “paige,” she whined out. her expression moved into a laugh as she tugged at my hair a little harder, like she’d just comprehended what i’d said. “shut the fuck up,” she managed, her voice shaky, breaking in the middle like she was losing control.

i chuckled against her, looking up, the vibration of it making her squirm. i didn’t stop. not until she was too far gone to care about anyone else but us.

“yes, ma’am.”

november, 2022

paige bueckers is eye-fucking me from across the room, and i’m not sure how to feel about it.

we’re sitting in the film room, going over footage from yesterday’s home-opener, a complete blowout. 98 to 39. my stats were setting the bar incredibly high for the season, and as much as i hate to admit it, the sex definitely helped. paige helped.

but why did it have to be her?

coach was talking, his voice fading in and out as he pointed at the screen, circling plays and highlighting our best moments, but my mind was elsewhere. i glanced over in her direction, prepared to make some kind of face that would shoo her off, but she was already looking away, pretending to be interested in geno’s lecture. like she hadn’t just been burning holes through me five seconds ago.

instead, i caught nika’s eyes, and she had this mischievous look on her face, one eyebrow quirked as she stuck her tongue out playfully. it was enough to pull a giggle out of me, and i quickly covered my mouth, trying to keep it discreet. nika grinned wider, clearly pleased with herself.

eventually, geno wrapped everything up, and everyone started to head out. either to class, or any other relevant plans, but there was a 99% chance we’d be back in each other’s apartments at some point tonight. perks of getting housing in the exact same complex of your team.

i grabbed my bag, slinging it over my shoulder as i waltzed toward the door. i was ready to get out of there and clear my head, but just as i reached the hallway, i heard footsteps behind me. paige. of course.

“headed somewhere, ruso?” paige’s voice came from just behind me.

i glanced over my shoulder, smirking. “library back on campus to study. what’s your excuse?”

she shrugged, stepping closer, and for a second, i thought she might’ve followed me just for this. “i gotta hit PT a few doors down.”

i glanced down at her knee, but i didn’t say anything. paige didn’t talk about her injury often, but she didn’t have to. her comeback was the only thing that mattered. getting healthy and back on the right track. “right, gotta keep those muscles working,” i replied, playing into that teasing tone she held.

“seeeee, exactly,” she shot back, grinning from ear to ear. “especially since you been keeping me busy. can’t have a repeat of—“

i throw a hand over her mouth, glancing back to make sure no one was behind us. everyone must’ve taken the shorter exit; i was practically walking her to physical therapy at this point.

paige, never one to let an opportunity slide, licked my hand, making me jump back with a startled laugh as she giggled. “paige!” i yelped, immediately wiping her slobber on her own arm, in which she gradually accepted.

a literal kid.

“my bad, go ahead and finish,” she urged.

“we need some rules.” i looked to her, and she didn’t look any bit of phased.

that was before she raised her eyebrows, interest clearly piqued. “that’s necessary?”

i began to chew on my bottom lip. “i mean, i’ve never done this before. and you seem… i don’t know. experienced.”

she laughed, eyes widening in shock, but i swear it was fake. “you tryna call me a slut?”

there was a brief silence, and i met her gaze, unable to suppress a smirk. “if the shoe fits.”

her mouth fell agape, although i wasn’t sure why it was such a surprise. wasn’t she the one practically engaged in hookup culture? “sorry? i don’t think i heard you correctly.”

“if the kobe’s fit, bueckers!” i yelled into her ear.

she pulled back, laughter spilling out of her as she shook her head, clearly caught off guard. “wowww, okay. i see how it is.”

i rolled my eyes at her playfully, struggling to get back on topic. “look, all i’m saying is that if we’re gonna keep doing this,” i continued, “i need to know what’s off-limits.”

“like what?” she pressed.

i thought for a moment, letting her words settle in for a beat. “like, are we keeping it casual? or should i be expecting breakfast in bed after a night of… whatever this is?”

paige chuckled, her eyes flickering to the ground for a moment before she looked back at me. “i mean, i’d love to make you breakfast, but that’s only if you’re willing to stay the night.”

what did that even mean? that’s not fucking casual at all. was she just joking? “maybe i am.” my response was cautious, although my heart was racing a bit at the thought. at least my brain was still quick-witted. “but let’s make sure we’re on the same page first.”

she nodded, a serious expression overtaking her normally playful for just a second. we stopped in front of the PT room, and i glanced inside before giving her a look, indicating that i should probably go.

paige licked her lips, tilting her head up in my direction as she slung the physical therapy door open. “aight, fair enough. i’ll call you later.”

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months ago

Text

Mad Season 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, social anxiety, chronic illness, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker

Summary: a class project gets messy. (short!reader)

Note: you can't stop me from giving a tiny reader to these two and I will not listen to anything ever.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You can't focus on one thing. Your eyes flit around. Shining tables, floating screens, metal tools and gadgets, cabinets with glass doors house endless supplies, Stark-branded emblems from wall to wall...

The lab is extraordinary, well above the shared spaces at the university. A dream come true for any but especially for a student used to ramen and a used single mattress.

"You... you really get to come here whenever you want?" You rasp as your throat tickles.

"Yup!" Peter answers at twice your volume. You wince. You tend to mumble and you're just not good with loud noises. He pauses to measure his voice, "uh, yeah, so I figured we could do our project here, study buddy."

"Oh, mhmm," you hum as you fold your hands over your chest and sway. As awesome as it will be, that usual dread comes over you. What if you break something? What if you get in the way?

"Pretty cool, right? Mr. Stark is so awesome."

"Mr. Stark? Yeah, yeah..." you cough and lower your hands over stomach. "Thought it was a rumour..."

"Yeah, he helped me out in high school after I won a robotics tournament. He's chill."

You nod, almost frantically, as your eyes skitter around without focus. Your chest starts to tighten and you blink big. Peter shifts away from you.

"Hey, you need a minute?" He asks.

You look at him and keep nodding. It's why your happy you got him as your partner. He checks in. Not to mention, he's never annoyed by you.

"I'll be here, wanna take a breath in the hall?"

You squeak but don't quite get out a yes please. You spin and scurry to the door. You flinch and jump back as it slides open on it's own. Peter laughs and a small smile curves your lips but you're too nervous to laugh.

The hall is empty. You bask in the solace, calming yourself against the wall. You just get a little worked up in new places. Or loud places. Or crowded places. Then it makes it so you can't breathe and then...

You pull out your reliever inhaler and take a careful puff. You close your eyes and lean your head back as you wait for your heart to slow. In, out, in, out.

You grip your inhaler as you stay unmoving against the wall. Your ears prick, listening for any sign of life, as you retreat behind your eyelids. Another breath and you'll be okay.

"Um, miss?" A rocky voice jars you away from the wall and your eyes snap open. You nearly collide with the man before you. How did you not hear him coming? "Are you alright?"

You bat your lashes and reach to play with plastic bow clip in your hair. He watches the motion as you nod, "yes, sir. Sorry. I..." Your mouth is sticky and parched, your surprise balls on your tongue. You clear away the lump, "you're... the Winter Soldier."

His brow twitches, "Bucky."

"Sorry, sorry, er... Buck...y," you trail off. You swing back and forth, "sorry... again, I..."

You're embarrassed and lost. You give a sheepish look and turn away. You hurry back to the door and hit the keypad. It blares back at you in rejection. You don't know the code and you don't think your fingerprint will work. You stare at it helplessly.

"Here," Bucky approaches and presses his thumb to the pad. "You new here?"

You shake your head. Your chest wracks. You bring your puffer up and suck without thinking.

The door slides open and you flit through. Peter leans on a table over his phone. He looks over as you enter and stands straight, tapping his fingers on the metal.

"Hey, you found Bucky!" He grins.

"Kid," the man follows you inside. Wait, why? Is he going to tell Peter on you? You didn't mean to call him that. You didn't know he wouldn't like it.

"We're just having a look around," Peter explains, "we're both in engineering. Classmates." He introduces you by name, "Mr. Stark won't care too much if I'm doing homework."

"Mm," Bucky grumbles as he goes to a far table.

Peter shrugs and faces you again. "He can be a bit grumpy. We can get outta here."

He comes forward as you hear metal tinking behind him. You glance over as Bucky works on his metal forearm with a thin tool. His vibranium fingers seems to work on their own as he wiggles the tip in a groove.

"Grumpy and has super hearing," Bucky snipes as he keeps his attention on his arm.

Peter's brows pop up and he rolls his eyes, "come on, let's get outta here before he gets his arm calibrated."

You turn and go back through to the hallway. The door shuts behind Peter and he sighs. He points you down the hall as you shuffle aimlessly.

"This place is sweet but you know, some of the regulars can be a bit much," he jokes. "You'll get used to Buck. He's never in a good mood. Better when Sam's around but... well, he's grown. Shouldn't need a chaperone, right?"

You tilt your head but don't say anything. You don't know much about them. You learned about Captain America and The Winter Soldier in history back in high school. Your knowledge of the Avengers and their current roster is extremely lacking. Other than the Spidery one. Everyone on campus talks about him.

"Mmhmm." You drone.

"Gee, sorry, I know it's a lot, huh? Didn't mean to overload you!" He chimes.

You shake your head, "I'm okay."

"I know, I know. Kinda nice having someone quiet around. Ned is a chatterbox and the worst project partner. He just wants to talk about girls or lego."

You dip your head to show you're listening. You glance at your inhaler and yuck is away in your crossbody bag. You drop your arms straight and continue next to Peter to the elevator.

"Wanna get a slice? I'm starving," he says. "My treat."

"Oh... you don't..."

"Nah, don't worry about it. I just want pizza without May telling me not too," he chuckles. "Trust, I know a great place."

You purse your lips and push your shoulders up again. You give a silent surrender with a tilt of your head. Even if you feel a bit guilty, you won't say no to free food.

#peter parker #bucky barnes #dark peter parker #dark bucky barnes #dark!peter parker #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #peter parker x reader #mad season #series #drabble #au #marvel #mcu #spider-man #winter soldier #captain america #avengers

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nana-au · 7 months ago

Note

not sure if your taking requests but if you are may I request nanami x freader who fakes being sick just so kento takes time off work to take care of her and have him all to herself. he catches onto it and makes his day off worth while by having her 🍆 drunk the whole day 😉

Absolutely! 🫶🫶

I love how sweet Bf! Kento is hehee... I hope this lived up to your expectations. Thank you so much for sending in a request! I’m a little nervous because I’m not sure I can write him right but I hope this is on par enough :cry:

Feeling Sick? I'll take care of you...

Kento Nanami ♡

MDNI

₊˚ପ⊹ Summary: Your doting boyfriend Kento doesn’t want to call your bluff about being sick. He’d rather tease the truth out of you!

₊˚ପ⊹ Warnings: p in v, unprotected sex, nipple play, orgasm denial, light spanking, cumming in your mouth, somnophilia, fingering, f! receiving oral, creampie, slight breeding kink (who is surprised i’m obsessed), not proofread </3

₊˚ପ⊹ wc: 3.2k

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

BF! Kento who never answers personal calls at work unless it is your name on his phone. “Hey sweet girl, everything okay?” he answers, keeping his volume low causing his deep voice to go even deeper. You could get dizzy off of his voice alone, it only solidified what needed to be done. If you didn’t miss him so much you would feel guilty for the lie you were about to spin – but you hadn’t seen your boyfriend all week because of the overtime he was putting in at his job. It was a desperate move – but if hamming up a cold was what it took; You would do anything to spend time with him. “Kento.. I don’t feel so good. Could you come home…” you made sure your throat was dry to sound raspy and even threw in a pathetic cough at the end.

BF! Kento who asks his boss for the rest of the day off without a second thought. You were his everything and he knew just how big of a baby you were when it came to getting sick. He would do anything to make sure you were taken care of – both physically and mentally.

BF! Kento who comes home to find you in your shared bed under a mountain of covers. He pulls them back and plants a kiss to your exposed forehead, rubbing your hair soothingly. “What doesn’t feel good?” he coos at you. It almost hurts how concerned he looks. “My throat hurts,” you tell him, making sure to frown and scrunch your brows. “I’m sorry, baby. Let’s go take your temperature,” he begins to pull back the covers. “I-I already took it. It’s 101,” you tell him – a little too quickly. You can see his face go blank as he thinks over what you said. He knew you well… too well. You would never take your own temperature – always too scared to know the answer. It wasn’t hard for you to admit you feel sick but having it confirmed was another thing entirely. It would sour your mood. You always let Nanami take care of you. Always. He wordlessly touches your forehead with the back of his hand and you swallow thickly trying to read his face. You hoped trying to overheat yourself with all the blankets you brought into bed would work in making your forehead hot. All it did now was make you sweat as your boyfriend studies your figure over. If he has anything to say he keeps it to himself.

BF! Kento who diligently cuts up the carrots for your soup. The anxiety you felt over how silent he became was bad enough you really did think you needed Nanami – you hadn’t felt this sick in a while! You kept sneaking peeks from the couch as you watched him prepare your lunch. His face was expressionless except for the focus he put into sauteeing the vegetables and measuring out the seasonings. While you swallowed down your nerves you had to appreciate how delicious your boyfriend looked. He had a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder that he used to wipe his hands on while he cooked – his button down shirt missing his work tie and exposing his upper chest. “Feeling okay, sweet girl?” he asks you when he catches you looking. You meekly nod, trying to put on a show.

BF! Kento who rubs your feet as you eat the lunch he made you. It was torture being under his diligent touch. He watched you intently – preferring to study you in silence as you ate. His strong thumbs massaged deeply into the arch of your right foot, releasing all the tension. “I know how sore you feel when you get sick,” his eyes lock onto yours, “Do your legs or arms hurt more, baby?” You choke out something that you hoped sounded like legs and he gets to work. It’s nothing short of professional the way his hands turn you into putty. You always tease him about how he must have been a masseuse in his past life – but it didn’t feel right to crack a joke at this moment. His gaze on you was intense as he studied the pleasure written on your face. The bowl of soup was abandoned on the end table as you embraced his powerful fingers. He slowly worked his way up your lower extremities, taking his time with the tight muscles in your calves. You felt yourself melt into the couch under his touch, too relaxed to open your eyes. He rubs the pit of your knee in slow circles before reaching up to your thighs, digging his thumbs in deep. You’re blissed out as you feel him shift closer, moving up even further. He turns your right leg out, tickling the inside of your thigh with a feather light touch before applying more pressure. You open your eyes and he’s still watching your face. “Feel good?” he asks you. Nodding, you bite your lip at the dangerous tingle in your tummy at the feeling of him touching your sensitive inner thigh. If he noticed you biting your bottom lip – and Kento is observant he definitely noticed – he pretends not to and continues on to the other side. He is almost at the point where your thighs and torso meet and you have to use all your strength not to wriggle around at the intense pleasure building. Kento loved watching you pretend like he wasn’t turning you on and he loved pretending he wasn’t aware of how sensitive your thighs were. He rubbed his thumb dangerously close to your pussy lips covered by your pajama shorts multiple times, humming to himself as he worked your ‘sore’ body. Trying to keep still was becoming impossible, jolting every time his digits almost went right where you needed them. “You okay?” he asks you, his knuckle ‘accidentally’ rubbing up against your heat as he squeezed the fat of your inner thigh. When you don’t respond because the only thing that would surely come out is a moan, he chirps up, “I think it’s time to run your bath.”

BF! Kento who never planned to have you soak alone. You were leaned up against him in the tub, keeping still as he ran his hands over your thighs – making sure the soaking salts made your body nice and smooth. They came up to your stomach, rubbing your skin lightly and he kissed the side of your head. “I know just how to take care of you... Hmm?” he questioned and you nodded. “Thank you,” you told him and he smiled into your hair. His good little girl always used her manners. His big hands came up to your chest, massaging your breast unexpectedly. “Something wrong?” he asks when you jump from his touch. “N-no,” you spit out.

BF! Kento who knows your body so well. He rubs one hardened bud between his thumb and forefinger, the other hand still squeezing the fat of your other breast. He’s unabashedly groaning into your ear, “So plump. Fits just right in my hand,” his lips are smiling against your ear lobe. You’re really wiggling under his touch but he still doesn’t comment on it.

BF! Kento who isn’t even hiding the fact that his massage has turned into groping. He’s pinching your nipple and running his hot tongue against your ear. The wet sounds of his mouth are overwhelmingly loud and incredibly sexy. His other hand is pulling apart your thighs so he can slip his knee in between yours – keeping your legs wide open. “Maybe if I play with your clit you’ll feel a little better,” he ponders out loud and you’re agreeing with him. “I don’t know though… might be a little too intense for my sick girl,” you were going to explode if he did not touch you. “No I’ll be okay,” you promise and he clicks his tongue. “I don’t know… I’m not convinced it won’t be too much,” your knuckles must be white from how hard you’re gripping the tub. “I’ll be fine,” you plead and it comes out desperate and needy and definitely from a girl who is feeling perfectly fine.

BF! Kento who makes you admit you lied about being sick just to spend time with him. He’s not mad. He could never be mad at you. Not when you’re making those pretty noises for him. Your clit is so sensitive against the rough pad of his finger. Your moans are just whines and he goes just the right speed for you. “You’re gonna have to make my time off worthwhile,” he sternly informs you.

BF! Kento who makes you take him for the rest of the day. If he was going to tend so diligently to you for your little lie, it was only fair you treated him just as well. That’s why after you came on his fingers in the bath, you had to ride him with no assistance. It was easy at first – you eased yourself onto his long cock while he laid back with his arms crossed behind his head. Your hands leaned against his toned stomach for support as you guided yourself up and down his length. It wasn’t long before you found a good pace, dragging him against your walls and reaching the spot in you that made you dizzy. You were getting so wet watching him watch you take him all by yourself, fucking yourself with his dick. “Lean back baby, wanna see it better,” he mumbled. If you weren’t already blissed out it would be shocking how composed he was. You did as he asked, using your hands to prop yourself against his thighs. You pulled slowly out before sinking back down onto him, feeling his tip hit the spot inside you that could make you cry. You shook as you continued, trying hard not to cum from how good the angle felt. “Nanami… feels…t’good like this,” you mewled. You were pouting, begging for him to be satisfied with what he saw. “Just a few more times,” he promised, “Just love to watch my cock disappear in you.”

BF! Kento who scolds you when you cum again – but he’s not actually mad. He could never be mad at you. Your cunt fluttered around his cock as you came, still fucking yourself onto him to make sure you held up your end of the bargain. “K-kentooo,” you were breathless and feeling weak from your second orgasm. “I need help,” you plead. It was hard to keep up the pace he liked. “You’re doing just fine, sweet girl,” he assured you – still not tired of watching your slick coat his cock with each drag of your hips. You continued to take him shakily, building up the same pleasure as fast as it went. His long cock hit the perfect spot in your gummy walls, tip kissing it each time you sunk down onto him. You were slowing down, allowing him to watch you take every inch of him before pulling back up for his length to reappear all shiny with your juices. You didn’t want to come again but the slow pace was driving Nanami mad with want.

BF! Kento who decides it's time for a new position. He’s got you trapped underneath him while you’re laid down on your stomach – back arched so he reaches right where you need him to. If he didn’t remind you with every squeeze of your cunt that you were meant to make him cum – you would have completely lost yourself again. You already came twice and you were supposed to be making it up to him! You needed to be a good girl and wait your turn. “Hold it,” he told you, almost like a warning. It was evil the way he pounded into you. Him and you both knew he could go for hours like this, too satisfied with the way you were squeezing him to ever want it to end. The pillow your face was in was wet with tears. “Na-Na-Mi” you said each syllable as his hips slapped into you, his body trapping yours underneath it. Your cute little cunt squeezed again at a particularly hard thrust and he pulled out to deliver a firm smack to your cheek. You cried an apology into the pillow. “I cum next,” he tells you and you’re promising him you understand. He pulls your hips off the bed and aligns himself back up with your empty pussy. “You’re doing this for me. You’re taking me so well because you lied,” he reminds you before easing back in. “You don’t cum again until I cum, okay? No matter how good it feels.” You hiccup, telling him you’ll hold it. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to be commanding in the bedroom but he was always so gentle with you – treating you like a princess. It was a little shocking (and incredibly hot) how dominant he was. His pace quickly matched his previous one and once again you were hyper aware of how difficult it was becoming to ignore the building pleasure. “You were so naughty – calling me out of work,” he scolds you, relentlessly pounding your poor pussy. “Gotta let your tight pussy make it up to me,” you’re apologizing into the pillow, getting drowned out by the vulgar sounds coming from your wet cunt as your bodies meet. “She’s such a good little girl,” he coos, referring to the way your pussy is hugging his cock like a perfect little cock sleeve. You’re sweating from the effort it’s taking you to focus on not coming undone. Especially with the way he’s talking to you.

BF! Kento who decides he wants needs to cum in your mouth. You’re grinding your teeth trying to keep it inside while he’s fucking deliciously into you – and thankfully he’s starting to lose control. In between his moans he’s chastising your pretty lips for lying with such ease. “Gonna have to teach that lying mouth a lesson,” he warns you, “Gonna cum in your mouth.” He grabs at your face, squeezing your cheeks and turning you towards him. He pumps in your cunt a few more times before pulling out and releasing messily into your mouth and face. You don’t fight it, swallowing any part that reaches your mouth.

BF! Kento who kisses you all over, thanking you for being so good. He checks that you’re okay and to make sure you know he’s not actually upset with you. “You can always tell me when you need me, baby. I’m sorry for taking so much overtime. This weekend you have me all to yourself. I promise.” You don’t get to cum again but you’re okay with it. You were extremely worn out and after he cleaned you up you didn’t stand a chance – falling right to sleep.

BF! Kento who knows you deserve one more orgasm. You didn’t think he’d forget, did you? This time he was going to be nice and sweet. Take his time playing with your pretty little pussy. A couple hours had passed and you were still sound asleep, laying all pliant and ready for him. You were still naked from earlier so all he had to do was pull the covers back to expose your puffy lips. You looked so peaceful while you slept, your beautiful figure perfectly on display for him. He slid his finger down your slit – unsurprisingly you were not wet. He went to work just ghosting your clit, not wanting to wake you yet. He rubbed slow circles, studying your sleeping face. Your eyebrows scrunched and your nose twitched – but you were still asleep. He tested his tongue on you, taking one small kitten lick on your clit. When you didn’t wake he continued his ministrations, slowly licking your nub. He was swirling his tongue, growing less hesitant as time passed. He teased his finger at your entrance, tracing along the sides before sucking lightly on your clit. You stirred a little, but you weren’t quite awake yet. He pushed his forefinger in only to the first joint, continuing to suck and kiss your clit. You were whimpering, still asleep but aware of the pleasure. Your hips moved a little and your hand came up to rub your face. By the time you woke up his finger was curled deep inside you and lips attached to your nub, sucking feverously. Your hands grabbed ahold of his blonde locks, pushing his face down into you. “Kento… f-fuck,” you cried out. He was slurping up all the arousal leaking out of you, flicking his tongue on your bud. You definitely got the orgasm you deserved.

BF! Kento who needs to feel your pussy one more time – and you’re too drunk on his cock to ever deny him. He’s fucking you slowly in missionary, his eyes full of love as he watches you drool at the feeling of his long cock drag against your walls. You look so good, completely entranced and sickly in love with the way his dick stretches you perfectly. You wouldn’t need any convincing in this moment to stay like this for life, trapped in by his strong body and taking his cock in any way he gives it to you. “You’re so beautiful,” he reaches up to squeeze the fat of your rosy cheek. He’s telling the truth when he swears he has never seen a woman so stunning. “Taking my cock like you were made for it,” you can only nod at his words. “You were made for me? Hmm?” he asks you and you’re nodding again. He knows you’re barely all there but that only makes him more turned on. “Made to take my cum.. Fuck,” his pace is still awfully slow but you’re just happy he’s inside of you. He’s feeling so in love with you – and stupidly pussy whipped. “Can’t imagine anyone else as perfect as you,” he’s reaching down to slowly toy with your clit and you’re leaking onto the sheets. “‘This what you needed, sweet girl?” You’re nodding. It’s all you ever need. “Gonna need my cum too?” Again you’re nodding and he’s picking up the pace little by little. You’re arching your back, pressing your chest against his and grabbing his shoulders. Trying anything to feel close to him while he rocks back and forth into you. Your whimpers and moans only make him go faster and he’s grunting in your ear at each thrust that reaches deep inside you. “Gotta make sure I get as deep as I can, baby,” he says, taking your legs and hooking them over his shoulders. Now you’re begging him to fuck you harder, the new angle reaching dangerously deep inside you. “Think this will work? This deep ‘nuff? ‘This gonna give me a baby, hmm?” He reaches down to your clit and you’re coming at his confession. You can’t think of a man more worthy of you carrying his children than Kento.

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themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 2 months ago

Text

Obsidian Salt

Summary: A little Witch!Reader x Demon!Rhys AU for my Spooky Season Fic List

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My hands shake around the ancient text, the worn tome heavy and dust laden from years upon years of sitting on a shelf, untouched and forgotten. The old latin script is illegible in places, the ink faded and hidden under unidentifiable stains; the parchment is dog-eared and scribbled in, the margins full of strange, archaic markings I’ve never seen used in our Coven’s rune work. These are not the spells of my ancestors, not the runes my mother and grandmother cast upon the old foundations of our family home. We are a family of witches, dating back beyond the ages of written word; I am supposed to carry on that legacy, but truth be told, I’ve always been terrible at spellwork. My potions are mediocre; powers of persuasion abysmal. I truly am a poor excuse for a witch, and everyone in the coven knows it. Perhaps that is why Sister Ruth chose me to put on a demonstration at the Solstice Festival tomorrow. If I cannot prove my worth, well, maybe it is in the best interest of the coven to throw me out, or worse, make a sacrifice out of me.

I would not be the first.

I grip the tome a little tighter. I must prove my usefulness. I cannot fail my sisters, or worse, my grandmother. She raised eight successful witches, it would be to her utter shame to have been my teacher all these years for nothing.

I draw a shaking breath. These spells are old magic. Dark magic. But I must get good at something quickly, and the gods know I will not get there on any natural talent. Perhaps I don’t need to be a natural. Perhaps I just need to summon something that is.

On the old wood floor of our basement, I have laid the circle of obsidian salt in three overlapping circles, each etched with runes of chalk for protection. Just in case, I’ve dusted the floor with dried rosemary and anise seeds; an added barrier against whatever evil I might accidentally conjure if this goes wrong. My mother’s amulet feels heavy beneath my sweater, the cold iron biting against my skin as if in warning against what I am about to do.

I take another deep breath and ignore the warning. I must not fail.

The words are clunky, foreign on my tongue, the first couple of tries produces no results at all. Perhaps I really am the worst witch ever!

I grip the tome so tight the spine groans as I try again, slower this time, sounding out each word piece by piece. I will not fail.

The whole basement is lit with candles and as I finish the final words of the spell, the light suddenly snuffs itself out.

The air in the room drops to near freezing temperatures. My hands so stiff and shaky around the old tome that the book slips from my hands and falls somewhere in the darkness. I make it onto my knees to look for it in a mad scramble before the sound of rushing wind fills the tiny room. It’s so loud I have to cover my ears with my shaking hands.

In the center of the salt ring, dark shadows begin to slither out from a crack in the floor, hissing like a dozen tiny snakes.

What have I done?!

I scramble to find the book in the dark, hands tearing over the anise seeds and clumps of rosemary. Perhaps the crushed scent of herbs will be enough to ward off whatever terrible shadow I’ve just called upon!

The temperature of the room continues to drop, lower and lower, even as the screeching wind gets louder and louder. The shadows within the circle grow darker and thicker by the moment, spinning now like a whirlwind. At least the salt holds.

And then, as quickly as the noise had begun, it suddenly quiets. All the candles light themselves again, allowing me to see where I’d dropped the book: Directly into the circle, having bounced over the line, and it now sits at the feet of the most handsome male I’ve ever seen in my life.

I can do nothing but stare. I had meant to summon some help, the soul of an old mage or a spirit from another world, perhaps, but not… well, whatever he is. He’s definitely alive, his bronze, bair chest rising and falling, making the swirl of dark ink over his skin move in twining patterns. Not a spirit, though I do not know what to make of the great, bat-like wings that sprout from his back, the leathery membrane twitching as he brings them close to his body to avoid the barrier the salt creates. And his eyes! Gods, there like two blazing, violet suns inside the sharp planes of his face.

“Well isn’t this interesting,” he purrs, voice smooth as velvet.

“Gods, what have I done?” I whisper to no one in particular.

His mouth twists in a devilish grin as he bends down to pick up my tome. From the tips of his fingers come dark claws. A bit of living shadow curls over his wrist, moving like snakes across the worn pages. “No gods here, Darling.”

I, somehow, find it within me to stand, despite my shaking legs. It is still terribly cold in this basement; the source of it seems to be coming from him. “What are you?”

He chuckles as he flips through the pages, claws running affectionately over the runes written in the margins. “Why don’t you come closer and I’ll show you?”

The longer I watch him the more off I realize he is. There are fangs in his mouth, the sharp tips of them glinting in the candlelight. Tiny, glittering drops of starlight glisten in the strands of his raven-black hair. Intertwined within the ink across his chest are smaller versions of the runes written within the pages of the book.

“I’ll stay right here,” I say.

He sticks out his full lower lip in a pout. “That’s no fun!”

He takes a step closer to the line of salt, testing the barrier with the tip of his boot. At least I managed to summon him half-way decent in a dark, leather pair of pants and boots. I don’t know what I’d do if I had summoned him fully nude.

My cheeks flush at the thought, drifting down to follow the defined V of his abs, and where his pants slide low on his hips. If he were human I’d climb him like a tree.

“Don’t tell me you summoned me just to gawk?” He presses. When he catches where my eyes are on his body, he adds, “Although you’re welcome to enjoy the view for as long as you like.”

I let out a huff. “I didn’t summon you for anything! I was trying to talk to the spirits.”

“There’s only one spell that can summon me, and you picked it,” he turns the book to show me the exact page I’d been reading from. “So tell me, what is it you want, Witchling?”

The way he says Witchling makes my skin flush; the heat in his tone enough to make me second guess myself. Why did I think that spell would summon something else?

Perhaps I am a fool for saying it, but I blurt, “I need help.”

“Do tell,” he purrs.

“I’m supposed to give my coven a display of my magic tomorrow, for the Solstice, and well… I’m kind of the worst witch ever.”

He glances at the herbs on the floor, and then back up to me. I swear there are actual violet flames moving around within his irises. I don’t know what he is, but I don’t think it’s anything that can help me. But how am I supposed to send him back without the book?

“I meant to summon a spirit to guide me in some quick magic. I didn’t mean to summon, well, whatever you are.”

“I am many things,” he says, walking a slow circle around the barrier, testing it. It’s like watching a recently caged animal at the zoo; he’s testing every point for a weak spot, and if he finds it, he’s using it.

I swallow the lump in my throat. What do I do if he gets out?

“But you can call me Rhys.”

If there is any heat left in the room, it leaves in a rush. “As in Rhysand? One of the Princes of Hel?”

Rhys drags his claws over the invisible barrier the salt creates and I watch the magic ripple and pulse under those sharp tips. “Perhaps.”

“You need to go back,” I say in panic, even though I know it can’t work that way. I summoned him. I have to be the one to send him back. Without the book, Hel, even with the book, I can’t do anything.

“Then send me back, Witchling.”

I’m going to have to get my grandmother, and everyone is going to know that not only am I a failure as a witch, but I am a danger to all of us. I can’t even read a spell book right! I summoned a Prince of Hel by accident!

I chew on my thumbnail, pacing now myself around the outside edges of the salt. What do I do? What do I do?

“Oh but you can’t, can you?” He teases, knocking the book against the barrier. “Not without this pretty little thing.”

The dried herbs crunch under my boots as I keep pacing. There are no other tomes like that accessible to me, not without the Elders knowledge. This one had slipped past unnoticed in my grandmother’s grand collection, I had found it by sheer luck. There were no other texts to help me out of this one, and at this rate, even if there was, could I even get it to work?

“So how about we do this my way, hmm?”

A shiver crawls its way up my spine.

“You break the barrier, and I will help you with your little Solstice tomorrow.”

I finally turn to look at him. “You would do that?”

“After tomorrow night, you can send me back and we can pretend this whole thing was a bad dream.”

Maybe this wasn’t a mistake after all! Maybe I can still turn this around!

“You won’t cause any trouble?” I ask.

He puts a clawed hand over his heart. “I will not cause any trouble.”

“You swear it?”

“I cannot break my word, Darling,” he returns.

My hands shake. What other choice do I have? “Just until the Solstice passes.”

“I promise you, that is all the time I will need.” I have to admit, his voice is strangely soothing. He does not strike me as some malevolent ruler of darkness at all.

I grab a broom off the wall. “It’s a bargain then.”

He grins wolfishly the entire time, watching my every step as I approach with the intensity of a wolf stalking a deer.

I swallow the lump in my throat. It’s only one night, what could one night hurt? With one last shaking breath, I drag the broom through the salt and break the seal.

The book clatters to the floor for a second time tonight, as he lunges forward, a clawed hand wrapping around my neck as his momentum propels me back against the wall. I hit the worn stones so hard dust rains down from the ceiling.

Panic grips me; I have no magic to save me as a real witch ought. He’s taller than I thought he was, towering over me as his grip on me tightens to the point of pain, the tips of his claws leaving indents in my skin. Rhys chuckles at my plight as he leans down and brushes his lips over mine in the ghost of a kiss. Ice fills my veins at the contact. “Silly little, Witchling, a night is more than enough to make you mine.”

#rhys x reader #rhysand x reader #demon!rhys #demon!Rhys au #demon!Rhys x reader #witch aesthetic #monster fics #spooky season #spooky season fics #acotar fics #acotar au #acotar rhysand #my writing #my fanfic

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