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feral4daryl · 1 year ago

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masterlist || MDNI

sweet scent.

perv!daryl x fem!reader

summary: while looking for his crossbow around the house, daryl ends up finding a pile of your dirty clothes and... used panties of yours. and when no one's looking, he decides to have some fun with them.

warnings: EXTREME AGE GAP (daryl is in his late 30s/early 40s and reader is 18), not entirely proofread, smut, mean!daryl sort of, corruption kink, daryl being an absolute pervert, panties sniffing, daddy kink, masturbation, cussing, daryl imagining himself doing the dirtiest things to you (unprotected p-in-v, squirting, face fucking, praising, loss of virginity, cunnilingus and i think that's pretty much it)

word count: 2.8k

a/n: please proceed with caution, this piece of work portrays a few extreme or unusual fetishes, so if you're not comfortable with any of those i've listed above please do not ready this. the idea that inspired this work originally belongs to @dilfsandmartinis.

if there was something daryl absolutely hated, it was the feeling of uselessness.

since andrea had mistaken him for a walker and shot him from afar, grazing his head, useless was exactly how he felt, having to lay down on a bed the whole day and night, doing absolutely nothing but be left alone with his own thoughts. and oh, what a disgraceful fate.

everytime he wasn't focused on hunting, fighting or surviving in general, the farmer's sweet younger daughter flooded his mind. your hair, your face, your stupidly adorable sundresses, everything about you was so... distracting.

daryl wasn't ever the kind of guy to simp for a woman, but that one specific girl made him feel emotions and sensations that were hidden deep within his being for years, maybe even decades. feelings he thought had vanished from his heart a long time ago were now blooming all over again, like he was some stupid teenager looking at a playboy magazine for the first time.

there was something about your innocence, your adorable mannerisms, your sweet voice and your kindness that had awakened something in him, something he wasn't quite sure what it was.

no, he wasn't exactly a young man. and while being aware that you were very young, he couldn't help but feel so guilty for having those feelings. whenever you bended over to pick something up, he had to fight demons not to have a glimpse of your panties. he often wondered how could you be so careless by exposing yourself like that, even if you didn't do it on purpose.

and there was him again, thinking about you. it's like no matter how hard he tried to push those thoughts away, they were like water, always finding a way in.

he huffed, feeling defeated. he knew he was still recovering from the incident, and that he should rest, but why was he following orders around anyways? he wasn't a damn puppy. plus, everybody else had left him there to go looking for sophia. he wanted to be able to help too. he was alive after all, and if he was alive, he believed he should be on his feet.

so that's what he did. he slowly lifted his right foot, resting it on the floor, then he did the same with his left one. his body reluctantly lifted itself up, and he immediately could feel the consequences for laying down for so long, his back killing him and his vision a bit foggy. anyways, he ignored any discomfort and started walking slowly, his head still a little dizzy.

then, he remembered he needed his trustworthy crossbow, he couldn't just leave unprotected like that. he looked around the room he was settled in but it was nowhere to be seen. he knew it was still in the house, so he left the room. he started walking down the corridor, his eyes attentively looking for any signs of his crossbow. he was even starting to think that his mates might've hidden it to force him to stay in the house when he spotted a halfway open door.

his calloused hands pulled it open, revealing a small bedroom, all pink themed and stupidly decorated. no, his crossbow wasn't likely to be there, it just looked like it belonged to one of hershel's daughters, but it was like something was calling him in.

he stepped in the room and it almost looked messy. the dressing table on the corner had lipsticks, combs, all sorts of make-up and girly stuff all piled up and... a perfume.

it was happening again, images of you flooded his mind and it was like he could almost smell you. oh, your sweet scent had the power to make him hard like nothing else. just by looking at that small bottle, just by imagining your scent, he could feel little shock waves travelling all the way down to his cock, threatening to awaken it.

he knew it was wrong, so fucking wrong thinking about a much younger girl like that. and it was even worse considering that you were the daughter of the man that provided him shelter in such difficult times. it felt ungrateful.

when he saw you for the first time, he didn't think much of you. he was actually careful, treating you like the stranger you were. and even when time passed, he never really got close to you. now and then you tried to share a word, even if just a little bit, but it seemed useless since he would reject all your attempted approaches. he didn't hate you like he tried to after acknowledging his disgusting desires for you, but he just couldn't allow himself to interact with a girl that made him sick to his stomach for all the wrong reasons.

your sweetness was almost annoying. the entire world had gone to shit, for goodness sake! dead bodies walking around and eating all the people they could find. how could you act so clueless all the time? daryl even wondered if you had ever seen a walker before, if you knew what was really happening out there. after all, it was very obvious that you were a daddy's girl, always protected under your father's wing.

but strangely enough, acknowledging that only made him protective towards you. he was always somewhat watching, always around you making sure you were safe and he barely knew why, he just felt like he should.

so he didn't stop himself from reaching over to your small perfume bottle. the design was very simple, no labels to be seen, time had probably faded it away. the cap was baby pink and heart shaped, and when he removed it, he immediately brought the bottle to his nose, giving it a gentle sniff.

fuck.

now, he was 100% sure that was your room. the fragrance was the same one that filled his nose and made him drunk in you everytime you walked by. he wondered if that was the scent he would feel if he ever hugged you, burying his face into your chest.

in that moment, he couldn't think about anything else, not rick, not carol, not his chores, not surviving, not even sophia. you were everything that he had in his fucked up mind.

he wouldn't feel so fucking guilty if his thoughts were only about your innocence and sweetness, but they were also dirty as fuck. countless were the times when daryl imagined groping you, running his hands all over your delicate body, feeling every texture, squeezing every junk and listening close to your every little whimper. he would pull your hair, gently at first, just to get it off your face and neck so he could pamper them with little wet kisses, gently scratching his teeth along them. he imagined he'd have to keep you on your feet himself, since you'd struggle to because of how weak your knees would get at all the sensations he would provide you and...

wait, no.

what was he thinking? was he out his fucking mind? he needed to stop those absolutely disgusting thoughts right away. he couldn't keep having those thoughts about you, not when you're out taking care of such important business with the others. he put the perfume bottle back on the dressing table, determined to let all that go. he knew he couldn't just let himself get so distracted like that over something so mundane and unimportant as his own sexual desires but then...

...he spotted a basket filled with clothes when he turned around to leave. his mind immediately started to rush all over again, and for the 100th time that day, he turned careless. he slowly approached it. shorts, tops, pants and so on could be seen at the top of the pile.

in that moment, he had totally forgot why he had entered that bedroom or even left his bed in the first place. he couldn't even remember the existence of his crossbow or his duties.

and then... he gets an idea. he starts going through the pile of dirty clothes and in no time, he finds your panties. they were white with a pink ribbon on the front, a clear reminder of your innocence. for a moment, he just looks at it, contemplating the possibilities. then, he remembers seeing you in it when you bended over to pick some off the floor the day before. he remembers catching a glimpse of it under your yellow sundress when you went to change his bandage.

that meant that those panties had been freshly worn.

if just your perfume ignited such vile desires in him, he couldn't even imagine what your natural scent could do to him. and he was oh so curious to find out. he still felt guilty, but that man had been sex deprived for so fucking long, he didn't even masturbate very often. he knew damn well he was about to commit a big mistake, maybe even starting something he was sure he couldn't finish, but he finally made up his mind.

he flips the small piece of cloth over, eyeing the soft-looking lining of the panties. he gulps, feeling his mouth water right away. god, what was he doing? what was right, what was wrong wasn't even important to him anymore. he just wanted to embrace his sickness.

there was a small stain on the lining, probably from you wearing it. just that sight alone was enough to get him off, and once again, he found himself having to face that tingling sensation inside his pants. he knew damn well what that meant and what was about to happen. but honestly, he couldn't give a single fuck anymore.

in one quick motion, he brought the fabric to his face, giving a long sniff while he rolled his eyes to the back of his head. that fucking scent of yours got him drunk the moment it filled his nostrils. so intense, so feminine and raw, daryl couldn't remember the last time he felt that type of pleasure, or if he had even felt anything like it before.

it made him needy like a horny teenager. he felt himself going back to puberty when all he could think about was jacking off day and night. and it was all your fucking fault.

daryl palmed himself through his denim pants, never taking your panties off his face not even for one second. the natural scent of your cunt was more than successful to make him hard as a rock, the sensation of being in his pants started to get uncomfortable as his dick grew bigger and bigger.

just palming himself wasn't enough.

he slowly unbuttoned his pants and unzipped them, inserting one of his hand in his briefs to catch his hard cock in it, freeing it for the first time in a while. his angry-red tip was literally pulsating while a clear and sticky liquid dropped down his length.

he wasn't able to hold a small grunt as he wrapped his calloused hand around his cock, the rough sensation of his fingers causing him to feel a jolt of pleasure so fucking delicious and guilty at the same time. the archer brought his hand to his mouth, catching some of his saliva to use as lube.

oh, how he wished you were there. he'd make sure you'd get his cock nice and wet with your spit so you could rub it up and down. and then, without warnings, he'd just shove it down your throat, forcing you to prove how much of a good girl you could be just for him.

and just for him. he wanted you all for his own. daryl never really liked to share, specially when it came to a girl like you, so princess like, so adorable looking. your plump lips looked so fucking perfect, and they would look even more wrapped around his big cock.

knowing how fragile you were, he knew you would definitely choke and gag on him, struggling to fit all of him in your mouth. he would whisper sweet encouragement words to you like “tha's it, tha's ma good girl”. he imagined how he would hold your head in place and keep a hand on your throat so he could feel his cock while he aggressively pumped it in and out, making you drool all over him. “just like tha', yeah, show daddy how fuckin' good ya are fer him”.

in his imagination, you would look up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, with a mix of uncertainty and desire to make him proud. “am i doing this right, daddy?” he could almost hear your voice saying it whenever you would take him off his mouth to catch your breath for a moment, never disconnecting your small hand from his thick length.

he started pumping faster, squelching sounds were all that could be heard in that silent room, a proof of his degeneracy. the grunts and stifled moans were only getting harder and harder to hold back. he was sticking those panties to his face and sniffing on them like his life depended on it, like he was a desperate virgin.

a virgin. he wondered if you were one. you sure looked like it, your dad never let you out of sight for long enough for you to try something like that, he supposed from what he knew about your relationship. he imagined how would it feel like to be the one to pop your cherry for the first time.

oh, he would teach you so many things, everything he knows. he would guide you through it all along, teaching you where to touch, where to kiss, where to lick. he would make your virgin little cunny cum so many times it would get all puffy and red. he even wondered if he could make you squirt, stuffing you with his fingers, brushing against your sweet spot over and over again until you were a quivering mess, squirting all over his skull tattoo. and yes, he would make you lick his fingers clean, your sweet little tongue dragging across them, and then, he would kneel down in front of you, not wanting to waste a single drop of your sweet release, attacking your sensitive clit and slit with his lips and tongue.

fuck, fuck, fuck.

he was so fucking eager to taste your slick, to revel in your salty taste. he imagined how fucking good the smell he was getting from your panties was from the actual source. he would lick it all, your lips, your slit, even your ass, but he would give special attention to your little clit, flicking his tongue on it, making it cum again just for him. he would never grow tired of it.

and when he felt you were finally ready for him, he would bend you over just like you used to do so absentmindedly. he would be gentle at first, but knowing himself, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold himself back for too long before absolutely railing the shit out of you, making you cry out and scream his name in pleasure and pain.

and when he flipped you over on your back, he would be able to see the bulge on your lower belly caused by his big cock inside you. just by imagining that he felt himself getting close to the edge. he would press his hand on it, making the little room inside your pussy even tighter. fuck, he imagined the sweet sounds you would make just for him.

all those dirty thoughts and your sweet scent from your panties were more than enough to make shivers run down his spine and his whole body tremble. he kept his eyes shut tight as he licked a stripe on the lining of your panties, trying to get some of your delicious taste. meanwhile, he hadn't stopped his hands not even for a second, harshly rubbing his cock up and down until it was too much.

in a strangled moan, his cock started shooting spurt after spurt of thick cum onto the floor, the dressing table and pretty much anything that was around. he couldn't remember the last time he had such an intense orgasm, the sensation making his mind completely empty except for your image.

his movements got slower until they stopped and he let go of his now sensitive cock. he sighed after catching his breath. he was left with that afterglow and the feeling that he made a huge mistake. suddenly, he felt dirty like before. he opened his eyes slowly, removing your panties from his face and putting them in his pockets. yeah, he knew it was wrong, but he was still planning to keep them for later.

then, when he averted his gaze to the mirror on his side, he saw...

you. standing on the doorframe with a shocked look on your face.

“u-uncle daryl?”

[PART TWO]

a/n: i know, i'm disgusting. i'm sorry. (just a quick reminder, english isn't my first language, so please excuse any grammar mistakes or awkward phrasing lmao, and tysm if you read it this far)

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secretlovezz · 1 year ago

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Simon with an s/o who has a cat

Prt.2 here! <-

He hates your cat 😭

Their literally mortal enemies it's ridiculous

The cat glares at Simon 24/7 and he stares right back

You finally make it home after a stressful day at work ready to shower and relax. You open the front door and call out, "I'm home!" You get no response. It makes your brows furrow in confusion, having been used to a little furry friend lying on your unused shoes waiting for you to get home or hearing the heavy steps of your boyfriend making his way toward you. But today there was no welcome wagon for you.

Your heart immediately racks in worry the once steady beat of it moving to an unnaturally quick pace. Your hands move faster to remove your shoes and jacket wanting to look for the person and cat that once populated your apartment.

You call out again, "Simon? My Baby?"

"In here, dove." At the sound of your lover's voice, you're on the move heading to where his voice had been most prominent.

When you get to Simon- in the bathroom -he's clad in only a towel water still dripping from his hair and body and condensation on the mirror signifying he's just gotten out of the shower. Then your gaze goes to his face and his eyes aren't on you they're focused on something on the counter.

Your cat.

They're staring at each other both of them refusing to look away from one another. They were barely blinking. Then you realize why Simon's having a glaring contest with your pet, it's because the cat was on his clothes refusing to move out of pure stubbornness.

Suddenly you're glaring at the both of them too, "Are you guys being serious right now? This is getting ridiculous," you tell them and with Simon's response you roll your eyes and walk away.

"Oh, this is deadly serious, love"

Sometimes when Simon walks by your cat it latches onto Simon's leg kicking and biting the shit out of him (your poor boyfriend is just about ready to chuck the cat into outer space)

Your little fur baby definitely steals or tries to steal food from Simon's plates. Simon swears the cat gets stronger when determined to get into his stuff

Simon's cups have been knocked off of tables more often then not being left to clean up a mess that isn't his

Your looking up from your plate of food as soon as you hear grumbles and silverware clanking roughly against a porcelain plate. You smile a little at the sight in front of you. Simon's pushing your cats head back away from his food, while the cat uses all of his strength. Simon's scowl at the animal only gets deeper when he sees you smile at his unfortunate situation.

"You better not be smilin'," He says annoyance clear in his tone.

Now your laughing, a sound simon usually adores, one that makes his body relax, one that makes him feel safe, but now it has him clenching his jaw and has his eyebrows furrowed.

"Make 'im stop," He growls.

You pretent to think about it for a moment, pointer finger tapping your chin in faux thought, "I don't know si... this is thoroughly entertaining. What's in it for me if I help you?" The vein on his arm looked like it might burst at your question.

"If you don't get this dammed cat away from me it's gonna go missin'," you roll your eyes at his dramatics but called your cat to you regardless.

When you cuddle with one of them the other gets sooooo jealous

Simon will literally toss your little baby off the bed

The cat hits and claws for simon to get away from you

(Your constantly having to scold them its like having two children)

These two will argue with each other Simon's voice is stern its how you imagine he talks to new recruits and your cat is meowing loudly at him clearing cussing him tf out

Groggily peeling open your crused eyes open but quickly closing them as the bright morning sun peeked through your bedroom window you start to awaken. You rubbed into your eyes with the back of your fist before opening them again moving to look at the clock on the bedside table.

11:23

You slept in, or really someone let you sleep in because to your right your boyfriend seemed to have long since left the bed leaving the side he usually accompanied empty and cold.

You stretched and groaned the sheets and blankets moved with you weird groans and grunts leaving your yawning mouth as your joints crackled and popped. You sat up in bed still drowsy with sleep barley aware of your surroundings but still you gripped the enormous blanket and wrapped it around yourself as an act to shield the breezy-ness of the winter weather that leaked into your apartment.

Mreeeooow!

Your head whips to the door at the loud sound. Your cat was talkative but he was never very loud about him. This time the usual cute sound was replaced with an almost screech that made you cringe.

You take a deep breath before standing up and making your way to your room door. Once you open it the sounds of your cat get louder and now you can hear Simon too. His voice is booming but isn't loud it's stern and serious but filled with frustration and anger.

As you walk down the hall to the living area your duvet drag behind you on the floor. The floor creaks and groans under your feet alerting the two others in your home. Both their heads snap towards you. Your little baby's ears are pinned back in airplane mode and his pupils are dilated. Your big baby has his nose scrunched and lips downturned into a frown.

Your voice is laced with tiredness and a little deeper than it normally is, "What are you two arguing about this time?" The back of your hand is rubbing one of your eyes again as you speak.

"The little fucker is bein' disrespectful, he's not listenin' to me."

The cat meows loudly in response to Simon seeming trying to say he was lying.

You sigh and move to pick your cat up, he turns to putty in your arms and nuzzles his head against your chin. You walk towards Simon now. Leaning into him and humming contently when he wrapped his arms around you and the little one in your arms pretending to be annoyed but fully relaxing against your body.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod mw2 x reader #cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley fluff #simon ghost riley fluff

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coldfanbou · 4 months ago

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Showing Some Skin

How about a little vacation with Natty. I wonder what the first day will end with.

Natty X Mreader

Length 2.2K

In the morning, you grabbed Natty some coffee, waking her with the smell. Her hand reaches out, trying to grab the cup as she slowly stirs from her sleep. “What are we doing?” She mumbles, her eyes still shut as she finally grasps her cup.

“It’s the first day of our vacation; let’s go to the beach.” Natty takes the smallest possible sip from her cup and nods her head, placing her cup on the nightstand. She lays her head against her pillow and tries to drift back off to sleep. You put your drink down and shake Natty, but she keeps her eyes closed. She’s on the verge of laughing.

“Wake up, Natty.” You tell her as you continue to shake her.

“The princess needs a kiss to wake her.” Natty mumbles under her breath. You stop shaking Natty and sigh, staring at her as she opens one eye before quickly shutting it. You shake your head at her before leaning in and pressing your lips against hers. Natty’s lips curl, smiling as she finally awakens. “You’re a real handful.” You tell her as you get off the bed, grab your coffee, and change into your beach clothes. Natty struggles to get out of bed but becomes a bundle of energy once she's fully awake. She rushes into the bathroom, changing into her swimsuit, putting on a pair of shorts over the bottom because she knows she’ll be running around.

You drive down to the beach with Natty after packing everything you’d need. The plan was to spend the day here, relaxing and maybe playing a few games. The first thing Natty does when you arrive is ask you to cover her with sunscreen. She lays on the towel you had just laid down and gives you a sly smirk. You pull out a bottle of spray-on sunscreen and spray her back. The coolness of it makes Natty jump. She tries to argue with you about the spray-on screen, but you don’t listen, covering her entire body in it as she complains. “I wanted you to massage it onto me!” She whines, burying her head into her arms and kicking her feet like a bratty child. You pat her back briefly before spraying yourself and beginning your vacation.

The two of you enjoy the sounds of the beach, with waves constantly going in and out. You play a few games together, enjoying your time as the sun comes and goes. Then, you head into the water, dragging Natty along before splashing her with the cold water.

As you splash her with water, Natty shakes her head with a toothy grin. “Hey!” She shouts, pushing her hands into the cold ocean water as she returns the favor. The two of you continue to splash each other in the late afternoon sun, the sound of the waves providing a soothing background. Natty backs down, with your last splash knocking her down. “Okay, okay, you win,” Natty says, leaning on her arms as the seawater rushes over her body. You extend your hand for her, and she takes your hand and rises to her feet. Natty looks down; her swimsuit and shorts are utterly drenched. She runs her hands under her straps, letting them smack her chest when she lets go. “I think I’m done here.” Natty walks back to your little space, lying on a towel and taking a deep breath as she relaxes.

You sit beside her, handing her a water bottle from the cooler. Natty sips on it, shuddering as the coldness hits her. “Thanks.” She turns onto her side, looking your way as her finger traces the spiral patterns on the beach towel. “Hey, it’s getting pretty late, and we’re all alone here.”

“No.” You reply, knowing exactly where she’s leading the conversation.

“Don’t you think it would be fun?” Natty asks, her voice filled with excitement and a hint of mischief, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

“I don’t want to get in trouble. Even if we are alone, someone could come by. The beach closes in an hour.” You explain, your cautious nature coming through.

Natty pouts, her cheeks puffing out as she fills them with air. “But it would be so exciting,” She whines, her feet kicking up sand in a playful manner.

“I know, but it’s too big of a risk,” You say, staring into the ocean. “What about the balcony of our room instead?” You suggest, trying to find a compromise that would satisfy both of you.

You glance at Natty, seeing the sparkle in her eyes and a giant grin on her face. “Let’s do it!” She yells, her enthusiasm contagious. “Come on, let’s go to our room.” She says, bouncing from one foot to another, struggling to contain her excitement. You grab the cooler’s handle and pull the umbrella out from the sand, carrying them as you make your way to the car. “Come on, slow poke!” Natty says as she runs ahead,

“At least towel yourself off before getting in the car!” You yell as she opens the door. You watch Natty tilt her head back and sigh before walking to one of the outdoor showers. She lets the water run over you, giving you a deadpan expression as the sand slowly falls off her. You can’t contain your laughter as you get closer to the car. You put everything in the back and wash yourself off, drying yourself as much as possible before hopping in with Natty.

You drive to the hotel; Natty taps her feet against the floor, excitedly waiting. Once you arrive in the parking garage, Natty wastes no time getting out of the car. She goes as far as opening your door and pulling you out. “I’ve been waiting all day; come on, let's go!” She says, pulling you into the elevator and hitting the button to the ninth floor. Natty grabs your arm, pulling it to your chest and giving you a mischievous grin. “This is going to be great. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” The elevator doors open soon enough, and Natty scurries to your room and drags you along. Her giggles fill the hallway as she reaches the door. You scan the key card, and you’re whisked inside with her in a moment.

Natty leads you to the balcony, turning around and wrapping her arms around your neck the moment you’re both outside. She steals a kiss before moving her hands down to your shorts, feeling a bulge. “Ooh, looks like someone’s ready,” Natty says as she reaches into your shorts, pushing them down as she grasps your shaft. The cool evening air hits you both, making you shiver.

You lean in and kiss Natty, slipping off her strap and pulling her swimsuit down until her breasts pop out. You both giggle. “I think you are, too.” You whisper into Natty’s ear before kissing her neck. Her light moans fill the open air as you reach up and cup her soft mounds, shaking them in your hands and watching them jiggle before squeezing them. Pressing your lips against Natty’s, you stare into her eyes. “Are you ready?”

“Ready,” She says as she pulls your shorts down, leaving you naked. She kneels before you, her hand slowly moving along your shaft as she takes gentle licks at the head. You place your hand on her head, guiding her. Natty presses her lips together, letting your cock split them apart as she takes you inside her mouth. You watch as she grabs one of her tits, kneading it as she bobs her head. Natty’s tongue moves along the sides of your shaft as she bobs her head; small groans escape her lips as she grows more aroused by the second. Natty places her other hand on your thigh, resting it there for support as she takes you into her throat. She constricts it around your cock, letting you enjoy the tightness before relaxing it and pulling away. As Natty catches her breath, she makes sure to keep you pleased, stroking your cock quickly before eventually taking you back in. “Do you like my throat?” She asks when she has the chance.

“It feels great,” You moan as you push your cock back into her mouth, Natty’s warm tongue teases you, wiggling along your shaft and flicking the head when you pull out. You smile at Natty before your eyes move lower.

“Oh, you want these?” Natty asks, pressing her tits together. “Let me get them ready for you.” Gathering her saliva, Natty spits between her breasts and pushes them together. The soft flesh melds together as she spreads her saliva and makes them glisten. “All set, baby,” Natty says with a smile. You push your cock between her soft mounds, thrusting between them as Natty presses them against your shaft. She takes small licks at the tip, enjoying the heat coming from you as you move between her tits. Natty adjusts her hands as you thrust, giving herself the space to pinch her nipples. Small moans escape her lips as she enjoys herself. “Keep going,” Natty moans as your cock begins to throb between her tits. She puts her head down, taking you into her mouth as you blow your load. Her hand cups your balls, massaging them as she gratefully accepts every drop of cum you give her. Her tongue moves along the tip, swirling around it as you finish giving Natty her treat. She licks her lips, ensuring no drop escapes before taking your hand and getting to her feet.

“It’s time for you to make me feel good.” She says, turning around and leaning against the railing. Natty unbuttons her shorts and pulls them off. Her legs shake as the cold air hits them. She looks over her shoulder at you, “Could you help me?” You press your body against hers, slipping your hand under her swimsuit, snaking your way down to her slit. Natty’s body jerks as she feels your fingers tease her. “That’s- not what I meant,” Natty moans as you push your fingers inside her warm cunt. You grab one of her tits with your other hand, squeezing it as you rub your cock against her ass.

“You wanted me to make you feel good. It doesn’t matter if you’re wearing the swimsuit or not.” You whisper as your fingers in deeper. Natty’s whines grow louder; she turns back around, seeing the distant lights of the homes below for the first time. Her walls grow tighter around your fingers. You slow down, massaging her tits and pulling your fingers out of her. As Natty is about to complain, you move them around her clit, making her knees go weak.

“I need you,” Natty whines, shutting her eyes as she focuses on the pleasure she gets from your fingers. “I need you inside me.” Your hands leave Natty’s body as you pull down her swimsuit, letting it fall on the floor and leaving her naked. You reach back between Natty’s legs, tapping her cunt with your fingers and making her gasp.”Please,” She begs, pushing her hips against you.

You press your cock against her entrance, aligning yourself and slowly pushing inside. Natty’s warm walls cling to you, and she lets out a long groan. Natty isn’t satisfied yet; she moves her hips back, forcing your length inside her, impaling herself on your cock. “Good girl,” You groan before pulling out and ramming your cock back in. Natty throws her head back and leans her body against yours, turning her head slightly. You press your lips against Natty’s, your tongue exploring her mouth as you grab her tits and begin thrusting. Her muffled moans are quick and constant as your cock stretches her out, filling her pussy. Natty places her hands over yours; her eyes are shut as she revels in the pleasure.

Once you break the kiss, Natty begins moaning loudly, every thrust making her moan louder. “You’ll get someone’s attention if you keep doing that.” You groan, picking up your pace. Natty’s eyes open slowly, growing wider as she feels her orgasm coming.

“It feels too good!” Natty cries as she places her hands on the railing. You move your hands down to Natty’s waist and move faster, with each thrust you’re striking against her womb. Her grip on the railings grows tighter as she comes closer to her climax. Natty’s walls clamp down on your cock, squeezing you tightly, desperate for your cum. You continue thrusting, planting desperate kisses along her back before driving your cock deep into her cunt and cumming inside her. Natty’s cries of pleasure reach their peak as your cum pours into her. The lights beside your balcony flicker on, and you quickly drag Natty inside. Your cum sloshing around inside her as you remain connected. You shut the door and place yourself on the bed, Natty sitting on your lap. She turns her head, and you kiss her; your hands wander her body, leaving loving touches on her as you both calm down.

“So, how was that?” You ask her as you move your hand around her clit.

“Great. I want more…let’s go another round.” Natty says breathlessly as she turns around and straddles you. You smile and spank her, “Is that a yes?” She asks before kissing you as your night of passion continues.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #natty smut #kiss of life smut

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mywritersmind · 17 days ago

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SLIM PICKINS - LN4

summary : in which y/n is over her pathetic love life and lando sees an obvious way to fix her situation. inspired by slim pickins by sabrina carpenter ifykyk😘

listen up : no warnings !! i don’t write smut so sorry lol

word count : 600

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“I’m literally going to die alone!” I groan and lay back on my bed, on the phone with my friend.

She laughs on the other side, “You’re so dramatic!”

“I am not! These are just my thoughts.” She makes the point that my phone is constantly blown up by men, “Yes well they’re all douchebags! All I want is a boy who’s jacked and kind!”

“What about Lando, then? You always complain but Lando Norris is the definition of that!” I groan into the phone. My infamous best friend, the subject of my fantasy’s and utterly and completely off limits.

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it, many times. “No chance.”

“But why!?”

I sigh, “He’s just… my friend! I don’t even see him like that.”

I hear her scoff dramatically, “You don’t see him as jacked or kind!? Do we need to get your eyes checked?”

I hang up.

⋆༺

There’s a boy in my room an hour later, laying next to me after putting out in five minutes. I text Lando to call me with an ‘emergency’ so he’s gone as quick as possible.

Lando laughs over the phone, “That bad, huh?”

I fall onto my bed, screaming into my pillow, “He didn’t even know the difference between their, there, and they are.” I hear his laugh on the other side, biting my lip from screaming even more because he sounds so damn sexy.

“Sorry love…” fuck, that nickname. “ever tried it with a girl? It’s fun.” He’s joking to boost my mood but I just frown.

“I think the Lord forgot my gay awakening.”

⋆༺

I walk with Lando to the elevator, drinks and shopping bags in hand, “So, what? You’re just gonna keep moaning and bitching until a man falls into your lap?”

“The good ones are all deceased or taken.” I shrug, “So yes. I mean seriously- what’s a girl to do? Every man is evil and lazy but I gotta get off somehow.” Lando chokes on his drink.

“Shit, Y/n. Tell it to me straight then.” I roll my eyes as we exit the elevator. We walk his room, swinging my bags and throwing them onto the couch, “So what is your type then?”

I plop down on his bed, laying back and staring at the ceiling, “Any nice man who breathes? Someone who’s jacked and kind!” He laughs, “I’m serious!”

He’s still laughing, I throw a pillow at him, “Come on!” he shakes his head.

“Lando!” I watch him shake his head and throw the pillow back. “What is so funny?”

“I’m jacked and kind.” He shrugs, unscrewing his water bottle top and taking a swing.

I lean back on my hands, tilting my head to look at my best friend, “Lando.”

He's still drinking water when he pulls up his shirt, revealing his *ahem* jacked body. Fuck.

Look, seeing Lando’s face and arms every day is enough to keep me up at night. But this? THIS!? I’m fucked. At least I wish I was (by him).

“You’re staring.” He teases, dropping the fabric and putting his water down. I am staring. And I do not have any plans to stop.

“Lando.” I warn as he steps closer, a slow smirk forming on his face.

“Y/n.” He mocks me in that sexy voice he does. “Say the words, love. I’m there.” His knees knock mine, he’s standing right in front of me and looking down with those green eyes of his.

“Please.” I whisper, and he’s on me in an instant.

#fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando x reader #lando imagine #slim pickins #sabrina carpenter

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lordprettyflackotara · 22 days ago

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hostage || bloody painter / helen otis

‘it’s not like me to be so mean, you’re all i wanted. just let me hold you, like a hostage.”

sum: after being kidnapped by the bloody painter, he expects you to be terrified beyond belief. to resent him. instead stockholm syndrome ensues faster than he could’ve imagined, resulting in you partaking in the most dangerous love affair

tw: smut minors dni 18+. kidnapping, yandere-ish themes, stockholm syndrome, choking, bath sex

an: something about helen being yandere just… makes sense?

Helen Otis was in love with you.

There was no way around it, no way over it. He adored the ground you walked on. The air you breathed. The water you drank and bathed in. The clothes you wore. The list was endless. All of these things were sacred for him.

It started off simple, admiring your beauty from a far and swearing to protect you. It only escalated from there. Paranoia was an irrational thing. Helen knew that. But the fear of a meteor crashing into your house or a poisonous spider biting you, only justified his own paranoia to him. You were only human. Despite his sudden wishes that they weren’t, they were utterly disposable.

So Helen did what he thought was best. He snuck into your house and laced your morning tea with something he found in Eyeless Jack’s stash. He ensured it was diluted enough not to kill you, but to make you pass out. So he waited. Standing ominously in the cupboard of your kitchen and waited. There was only a crack, only a small sliver of sight for him to admire you through. As anticipated you followed your morning routine, resulting in you collapsing onto the kitchen floor.

He tried not to harm you too much as he shackled you to the dead bolts secured on the floor of his art room. Helen had gathered a mattress and proper sheets. He wanted to ensure you were comfortable while adjusting to your new surroundings. He anticipated protest, silently observing as he waited for you to awaken. You looked so peaceful as you slept. Helen expected you to be upset when you awoken, so he purposefully soaked in your serenity while it lasted.

After a few hours you stirred, unsurely blinking your eyes awake. You seemed surprised at first, scanning the room. Your eyes landed on Helen, the killer soaking in the beautiful color of them as you stared at him. “H-Hi,” You sputtered. You tucked some stray hairs behind your ears. Helen was shocked at your calmness, walking back and forth as he studied you. He slowly approached you, not wanting to spook you. He kneeled down to your level. “Hello there. I’m Helen. I already know your beautiful name,” He greeted, delivering a sincere smile. You gave him a small one in return. Your calmness was odd to him. Usually his victims were a lot more scared, typically screaming and thrashing like they had gone mad.

Not you though.

Instead your sights soared around the room. “Is this your art studio?” You asked timidly. Helen felt himself gleam with pride. “Why yes, yes it is,” He informed you. You went to stand, your shackles stopping you. Awkwardly you plopped back down onto the mattress, still focused on soaking in your surroundings. “It’s beautiful, i’ve never seen anything quite like it,” You answered. Helen flushed with joy at your compliment, immediately working on undoing your shackles. “I apologize for these. I wanted to ensure you wouldn’t hurt yourself,” Helen rambled. The shackles fell to the floor with a thud, your body immediately curling upwards into a stretch. Your shoulders popped as you pulled your oversized shirt down. With your bare feet hitting the cold floor, you went over to admire his art collection.

An entire wall of the room was dedicated to his work, canvas’s upon canvas’s covering every square inch. “Do you fancy the arts?” Helen asked, meeting you by your side. He puffed his chest out as he held his hands behind his back. “I’ve never given it much thought, but yours are marvelous. I’ve never seen anything quite like it,” You admitted timidly. You oddly felt at home, as if you had been in this room millions of times before. You noticed one painting in particular, the faded brown one you recognized. A wave of nausea washed over you as your fingertips graded the canvas.

“Is this blood?”

“Yes it is.”

This was it. This was the moment you’d snap out of your entranced haze and see Helen for the monster he truly was. Instead your eyes went wide, tears flooding your waterline. “You’re not going to kill me right? I-I really think i’d be comfortable here and you seem really nice,” You whimpered lowly. Instant regret washed over Helen as he cupped your face with his hands. His ocean eyes stared down into yours, his thumb stroking your cheek, “I could never hurt you my dear. I just want to stay with you. Forever.”

After that, everything fell into place. You and Helen immediately clicked, your codependency issues resulting in falling in love with a man you barely knew. His homicidal tendencies and fetishes didn’t scare you. You found it endearing in a way, that he’d keep you pristine and clean and explore those urges on others. Helen treated you like a princess, pampering you with whatever you needed or wanted. You had never eaten so well in your life. His care didn’t stop there, stealing the most lavish clothes he could get his hands on.

You were everything he could ask for and then some.

Your days were spent wondering the mansion, Helen making it very clear to the other residents you were off limits. He found your friendliness adorable, your mornings spent cooking his fellow residents breakfast. Otherwise when he was out you were in the library, studying the endless books lined on ancient shelves. Helen overlooked your codependency stockholm syndrome, while you overlooked him being a massive serial killer. The two of you became the perfect assemble, complimenting each other in every way possible.

You sat across from him in his pristine bathroom, kept in marvelous condition for a piece from the previous century. Up until now Helen had never seen you naked, just a few slips here and there. You slept alongside him in his bed, meaning the reveal of your more private areas was bound to occur. Especially with the scandalous night slips he got you. He sat across from you in the tub, drinking a glass of wine as you smoked a cigarette. “You know Im not fond of smoking,” Helen said. His gaze was stern, but even he couldn’t deny you smoking was so attractive. “Masky gave it to me as a gift since I made him chocolate chip muffins. You know they’re his favorite,” You answered. Helen could withstand the smell of cigarettes, but he feared about the long term damage they may cause you.

“Ahh yes. Masky isn’t an easy man to please. Good job dear,” Helen said, smiling as he took another sip of his wine. His gaze fell down to your breast, that were modestly covered by the soapy bubbles. The room smelled of vanilla and cigarettes, a combination Helen was beginning to find himself attracted to. “Did you finish that piece you were working on?” You asked, exhaling the cigarette smoke. Helen sheepishly grinned, relishing in the feeling of someone properly enjoying his art. “I did. Took an extra life or two to complete it, but nevertheless it’s done,” Helen grinned. You set the cigarette on the ash tray, another gift from given to you by Hoodie.

You sank lower into the bath, allowing your chin to be under the water. “Hmm this is so nice. This was a great idea,” You hummed. Your eyes fluttered shut, your long eyelashes beautiful enough to make Helen stare for days. He felt heat rush to his cheeks as your legs rubbed against his, the killer clearing his throat in an attempt to ease the tension. “Royalty like yourself deserves a nice bath,” Helen answered modestly. You sat back up, the bubbles poorly concealing your perky nipples. Helen swallowed at the sight, forcing himself to look at your face instead. He noticed some suds still covering your chin.

“Oh dear you have something on your chin, let me get it,” He said, leaning forward. The tension in the room only rose as he wiped the bubbles off of your chin. Your eyes met his, before flickering down to his lips. Helen had purposefully not made an advancement towards you, wanting you to settle in first. Although a visiting Eyeless Jack deemed you as the ‘perfect mate’, Helen wanted to ensure you were comfortable. He avoided thinking too much about your clingy behavior. You attached yourself to him every chance you got. But now it was all coming to a halt, your face pleading for him to kiss you.

So he did.

You tasted like bubblegum and cigarettes, the taste intoxicating as he kissed you deeply. Instinctively you found yourself crawling to him, ignoring the water splashing around the tub. You straddled him, your cheeks red as you reattached yourself to his lips. A shiver ran down your spine as his soft hands grabbed your hips, guiding you to lower yourself down further. His cock hardened under the feeling of your folds, a soft groan escaping your lips as he rubbed his shaft up and down your slick. You wrapped your arms around his neck, hungry and desperate to be closer to him.

“Have you ever done this before?” Helen asked, his voice dry and lustful. You nervously pulled away from his lips, your hips grinding up and down his shaft. His tip brushed against your clit with ease, your heart beginning to race. “Unfortunately I have. I wish I hadn’t though. I would’ve saved myself for you,” You whispered.

Your words put Helen on a high not even heroin could produce.

“Well then, i’ll make sure to fuck you like it’s your first time then,” He replied, his voice low with hunger. He licked his dry lips, before slipping his hand down to your eager cunt. He began to draw slow circles around your clit, causing you to hiss. “Helen please, I need you now,” You whined. He bit his bottom lip, guiding his cock down to your entrance. “Be careful what you ask for darling. Now lower yourself down,” Helen ordered. You slowly lowered yourself down on his cock, grabbing his shoulders and bracing yourself for the stretch.

“Are you sure you’ve done this before?” Helen panted, feeling your walls cling to him desperately. You groaned as you continued to sink down onto his, before finally feeling his tip brush against your g spot. “It’s been a long, long time,” You admitted sheepishly. Your cheeks were flushed as you began to move your hips, your gaze meeting Helen’s. His ocean eyes were captivating, your mouth falling into the shape of an O as you began to ride him. Warm water carelessly splashed on the floor, your body a slave to the pleasure only Helen could provide you. “You’re so tight, heavens,” He grumbled.

He didn’t even need to help you, your body was craving his. The way his cock abused your g spot set your soul on fire, your body gladly accepting the flames. You tilted your head back, giving Helen a clear view of your throat. He watched you swallow as your unholy noises bounced off of the bathroom walls. Your cunt was captivating, much tighter than anything he had ever experienced before. Before he could stop himself his hand shot out of the water, grabbing your throat.

You gasped as water droplets hit the tub, his fingers tightening. “You like this, huh? Tell me you like it,” He snarled. You panted for air, your heart pounding against your chest. “I- like i-it,” You sputtered, your hand cupping his veiny arm. Helen smirked in a cruel satisfaction as he began to thrust upwards into you, pounding your cunt mercilessly. Curses fell off of your lips, causing Helen to frown. “Such a filthy mouth. Moan my name darling. Moan it now,” He commanded. You repeated his name until your throat was sore, your vocal cords gone raw.

Helen could feel that you were close, forcing your head to tilt backwards as he choked you. “There there. You can handle it little one. Cum for me,” He hummed. Your body was a slave to Helen, your mind and now body at his disposal. Your vision went white, your mouth open and gasping for air as he released your throat. You were seeing stars, unable to process Helen cumming deep inside of you. He rested your head against his shoulder, lovingly stroking your back. His cock was still buried inside of you, keeping his cum buried in your womb.

“It’s okay darling. I only do these things because I love you,” He cooed. You could feel tears arising in your waterline, your body exhausted as you submitted to him. Helen hummed to himself as he stroked your back, his fingertips grazing his skin. You’d always be, his precious little hostage.

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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months ago

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Leaving IV

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: Alexia takes you on holiday

The first time Alba and Alexia went on holiday with each other was when Alexia turned eighteen.

Suddenly, she had independence and some adult money to blow on frivolous things so she took Alba to Ibiza with her.

You got left at home because you were still very little and going to the beach and tanning was not something you enjoyed.

Instead, with both of your sisters in Ibiza, Mama took you to the beach near the house and you did fun things like building a sandcastle and eating your weight in ice cream.

Mama made a weekend of it and you were certain you had a much more fun time than Alba and Alexia did. You couldn't imagine laying in the sun and sleeping the day away with fruity drinks could be much fun or, at least when you were younger you couldn't imagine it being fun.

Now though, as a teenager that was also an athlete, you enjoyed you sleep. Naps were an important part of your routine. You came home from school and napped before getting up to go to your training. Then you would come home and nap until dinner.

It was good routine. You liked your routine.

You didn't like having it interrupted at three in the morning by Alba shaking you awake.

You blindly bat a hand at her. "Go away." You roll over onto your front and bury your head in the pillow. "Five more minutes."

"You'd already said that," She says," Come on, get up."

"No."

"If you don't get up now then Alexia will be up with a bucket of water. Then you'll have to get up and change your sheets. Come on, up!"

You groan loudly, muffled by your pillow before forcing yourself up.

The only reason you agreed to going on Alexia and Alba's sister holiday was because you thought you could relax. But, with Alexia in charge, you should have known that would never be the case.

She'd booked the flight for six forty-five leading to this three in the morning wake-up call so you dragged yourself out of your body and changed into some plane comfortable clothing.

It was barely an hour's flight from Barcelona to Mallorca so you've no idea why Alexia insisted on the stupidly early flight.

Either way, you drag your suitcase down the stairs and flip your hood up in an attempt to show your protest at the early morning wake-up call.

Alexia pulls it straight back down.

You flip it up again.

She pulls it down again.

You reach to put it up. Alexia's stern look stops you.

You kick her in the shin.

"You kick like a baby," She says, sticking her tongue out.

"I'm going to bite you."

"Ah," Alba says wistfully, throwing her arms around each of you," Just like old times!"

Alexia grins and ruffles your hair. You pretend to be annoyed.

You manage to have a small nap on her shoulder on the flight over and then get rudely awakened by her shaking you.

The villa is nice though and it's even nicer when you remember Alexia is paying for absolutely everything.

The house has a pool and a shady spot for naps and a big inflatable sword that you're going to use to smack Alba when she annoys you. It's near the beach and is only a ten-minute walk or so into town.

All in all, you're actually quite happy to be on this trip with your older sisters, even though Alba shoves past you to claim the room you wanted as her own.

The sun is nice and hot and you close your eyes for your midday nap as Alba floats around in the pool and Alexia paces around on the phone to her girlfriend.

It's nice and peaceful and sleep comes easy to you.

You don't know how long you've been sleeping by the time Alexia wakes you up by squirting cold sun cream onto your back.

You shriek, flinching away but her strong hands follow you and you can feel her rubbing it in.

"Ale," You whine," I don't need any."

"You do," She insists, working it more furiously into your skin," I got the strongest I can find."

"But then I won't tan!"

"Good. Tanning can cause skin cancer."

"You tan!"

"I don't have delicate baby skin," Alexia says and you turn your head back to look at her in disbelief," Skin cancer is scared of me."

From the sunbed next to you, Alba scoffs. Her face is covered in sun cream that hasn't been rubbed in yet. Clearly, she was Alexia's first victim.

"I don't have delicate baby skin!" You insist.

"Yes, you do." Alexia bats your arms away. "Mama made me promise to make sure you two wore your sun cream which means no tanning oil and no fighting me on it! I'm the oldest. I'm in charge!"

"You can't be in charge of me," Alba says," I'm an adult."

Alexia thinks for a moment before nodding. She prods you in the pack. "You're a baby so I'm in charge of you."

You groan. "This is so unfair!"

"Life's unfair," Alexia says impassively," Now, stay still. I might have missed a spot."

You're pretty sure she dumped the whole bottle on you.

Alexia's a hoverer. She always has been and she always will be.

Her arm is slung around your shoulders as you make your way down the street to find some food. She's insisted on getting you a big floppy hat to protect your face even though she's completely drowned it in sun cream.

"I'm kind of craving seafood," Alba says," Seafood and pasta."

You nod. "I want pasta too."

Alexia nods along. "Pasta sounds good."

"I want dessert as well," You continue.

"That's such a good idea!" Alba agrees quickly," I could kill for some warm cookie dough right now."

You nearly drool at the thought. "With whipped cream."

"And caramel sauce!"

Alba grabs your hand, pulling you out of the security of Alexia's arm and starts sprinting down the street, to where all the restaurants have lined up their menus for the night.

You allow yourself to be dragged, easily keeping pace with her.

You turn to look behind you. "Ale, come on!"

Alexia catches up in record time, grabbing your other hand.

"Seafood, pasta and cookie dough," She laughs," I want dough balls too."

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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thetxtdevil · 1 month ago

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This blog has become a thought dump page and you're going to deal with it

Ok ok ok,,, listennnn Fox Hybrid!Yeonjun

mdni - some smutty stuff, hybrids duh, biting duh, mating DUH

Its cliché but my mind is thinking, stray wild fox starved and lonely somehow how finds himself in the edges of a town, your town ofc. Just as he peeps through the trees he sees you on your daily walks and oh my does he think you're beautiful and *ahem* scrumptious. Fox!Yeonjun takes a few days to work up the courage to step out of the woods to finally stalk towards you, I mean, meet you.

You're walking and right when you were about to put your earbuds in you hear foot steps behind you. You turn around thinking someone is there but there is no one. You shake your head at your curiosity to turn back around to bump into the fox.

Dirty, is the only thing you can think of, you're frightened but god he’s dirty af. His orange hair is more of a brown dusty color, clothes ripped and not his size, but his eyes, his big brown yet predatory eyes have you melting. He needs a home. That night you bathed him and Yeonjun was basically purring to you.

And thats how you ended up with a fox hybrid in your house. Well, sorta, see foxes are independent, so Yeonjun liked to escape your cozy home and go back into the wild. Adaptable and very observant it wasn't hard to find his way back to you. He'd come every other day bringing back meat he hunted for, you two cook a meal together, and ofc another bath only from you bc he says he doesn't know how to do it himself :))

By the end of winter your seasonal depression is itching to go back outside for your walks. You hoped to see your handsome fox as it had been some time since you've seen jjun. You watch as the spots of snow melts into the green grass, the wind was brisk but bearable, crisp to breathe in. While walking you jolt, a tickle on your skin when you feel something brush against you. You look to your left to get a flash of a white tip of an orange tail, looking to your right you see Yeonjun, your handsome fox. He was very vocal today, talking about everything and anything, even singing a few times. He liked how you had evident heart eyes every time he sang.

You two end up back at your house ready to do your usual, give him a bath. But something felt different, usually jjun would be jumping off the walls for his special treatment but this time he was right next to you, holding your hand leading you to your bathtub. Bending down to turn the faucet on, you could sense the fox right behind you. Straightening your posture you're not surprised to feel his arms around your waist as he tends to be cuddly, but you are surprised by his abundant neck kisses and the hardon poking your back. One thing leads to another and now you're both naked and in the bathtub.

Yes, you knew all the times Yeonjun creeped on you before he introduced himself, you're not dumb, but you never felt unsafe with him. The fox is gorgeous, a flirt, a smooth talker, but he had a playful and caring nature that made you feel like he was another home at home. So his need for mating you felt natural, good even. Letting him leave a bunch of love bites all over your skin as you ride him. You two giggling at the waves of the bath water, but all giggles were put aside when you stroke his fluffy orange tail awakening his feral side, having him thrust up into you so much that the water floods the whole bathroom floor. Your hands in his hair then reaches up to his pointy ears holding them for dear life. Panting, moaning, overwhelmed by his force, yet you take time to admire Yeonjun's pretty features as they contort by the feeling of you.

And yeah so, after that you had to clean each other up again. Yeonjun becomes very protective after mating you. Never leaving your side, gets a little frustrated when your don't go to bed right away. Fox!Yeonjun just wants to stay up on guard as you get your beauty sleep. And foxes tend to have one mate for life, but you don't need to know that....

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil

taglist: @naoristerling, @inkigayocamman

#txt devil #txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #txt imagines #txt x reader #txt smut #txt x you #txt x y/n #yeonjun smut #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x you #yeonjun x y/n #choi yeonjun x reader #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun hard thoughts #yeonjun hard hours #hybrid!txt

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baldursgate3tempobsessed · 1 year ago

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Kidnapped Astarion

I have a very specific thing I can't stop thinking about. That involves Astarion getting kidnapped by Cazador for the ritual and him taunting him over the lie that Tav gave him away. Sold him even.

Tw: Lies, manipulation, mentions of torture, bad times had all around, it's long as fuck, betrayal (or at least the lie of it). Like Cazador is involved so all bad. Very bad. This also has VIOLENCE. Like canon game violence but it is BLOODY. You've been warned. Also happy ending :)

So now let's get to that angst:

It had all happened so fast.

One moment Astarion was laid back in the tent you share, reading a mediocre book as he impatiently waited for your return. He loathed when you went out without him, even if it was for good reason. He wasn't exactly welcome company when it came to solving Gale's problems, especially when it came to the bomb nestled in chest. You both knew his inability to keep his sarcastic quips to himself would not be an asset while exploring a sacred library. Besides, he didn't have much room to complain, not when he accompanied you on ninety-nine percent of your outings.

But that didn't mean he had to like it. Even if it was shaping up to be a nice, uneventful evening. He had set your tent a little farther away from the others, considering the complaints that some....well most had made about the volume of your nightly activities. It was quiet, peaceful even. The atmosphere tranquil enough for him to fully relax.

What a mistake that had been.

When the flap of the tent opened he didn't even look up, fully expecting it to be Shadowheart or Lae'zel coming round to dig about in his darling's things. It made sense, considering how it was one of the few times they wouldn't be risking walking in on something. You had such a bad habit with that "open door" policy of yours. One that had exposed nearly every party member to quite the show. Though in Astarion's view, they were just unreasonable. When you were both loud they complained. When you were quiet and they walked in on it they would whine even more. How could you win with people like that?

Perhaps a sign on the door would have done the trick, but Astarion would be lying if he didn't enjoy the others being fully aware of who could make you cry and moan. The risk was just more thrilling, if not the slightest bit annoying.

But the intruder was staying still at the opening, quiet as could be. It was odd enough to have Astarion glancing upward, his heart stopping in his chest at what he saw.

It was a man, frantically muttering something under his breath. A man that he recognized. The idiotic Petras, trying to cast some kind of incantation. It had Astarion scrambling upward, reaching for his dagger. But it was already too late. The spell was finished and Astarion could feel his senses start to fade away, one by one.

He had gotten sloppy, relying on the safety of camp that had never existed. And now he was paying the price, and what a price to pay. Even as he fell to the magic, one feeling managed to stay in place until the bitter end.

Terror.

And then, he felt nothing at all.

The next thing Astarion knew he was being awakened by a slap of cold water to his face, blinking up into horrifyingly familiar light. He immediately recognized where he was. The torture room, his arms hanging from the ceiling, his toes barely scraping the floor. It hurt to be suspended like this, a pain he was still so familiar with despite going months without. And in front of him was the cause of it all, sneering at him like the maniac he was.

Cazador.

"You're finally awake," He grinned, dropping the bucket that was in his hands, "You've been a very bad boy Astarion. Just what am I to do with you?"

Astarion wanted to answer, to curse at him, maybe even beg to just be left alone, but nothing came out. He was too stunned, too stupefied that he ended up here after everything he'd gone through. Everything you'd gone through. How could it end like this?

"I don't fully know what you were up to with all that time away from your family," Cazador continued, stepping close enough for Astarion to feel his disgusting breath on his skin, "But I think I may have the gist. Galivanting around with your merry-band of degenerates. Seems fitting."

Astarion gave a full-bodied flinch when Cazador started to graze along his collarbones with a gentle finger, his touch freezing and revolting. The gentleness wouldn't last, Astarion was surprised it was even there to begin with.

He should have realized there was a reason for it.

He trailed up his neck, stopping to trace a bruise you had left the night before. If only he had known that it was almost certainly the last time he would get to touch you. The realization was nearly enough to bring tears to Astarion's eyes, but he refused to cry in front of this creature, not if he could help it.

"Seems like you may have even found yourself a favorite amongst them. Tell me pet, who was it?"

"Fuck you." Astarion spat out, his fury managing to shine through his despair.

Astarion expected a hard slap for the insolence, but instead Cazador just laughed, loud and full-bellied, "You've gotten quite the temper since you've been away, haven't you? I wonder where that came about?"

It was a false question, Astarion could tell from the way his eyes were crinkled. Like a child excited to reveal a surprise. Cazador answered it for himself, "Is it that lovely little thing that you've been following around. Gods, what's their name again...Tav, is it?"

"Don't you dare say her name," Astarion growled, his righteous fury overcoming the ever-growing terror and dread, "They have nothing to do with this!"

"Oh but they do," Cazador grinned, stepping back to do one of his famous gloating sessions, "Just how do you think I found you? Luck? No my dear, you were given."

Astarion's answer was as immediate as it was hateful, "You're lying! You know nothing of them. Nothing of us."

He won't believe it, he has no reason to. You...you loved him. And you were probably looking for him as they spoke. You would never betray anyone like this, least of all him.

But Cazador remained unphased. If anything he was looking at him with pity, "Oh you poor thing. You think she cares? You think she loves you? I'm disappointed Astarion, it seems you've learned nothing from our time together. What is there to love, hm? Nothing that I can see. Though...they sure did seem to love the gold. You fetch quite the high price my dear. But it will be worth it."

Lies. It was all lies. It had to be. Astarion shoved his uncertainty back down, bellowing out, "Liar!"

It was forceful enough to even make Cazador falter for the briefest of moments, a split second that anyone else would have missed. But he pressed on, shaking his head, "Darling, don't you find it strange that you were all alone that day? That no one came to your aid? Where do you think you're love was, hm? Wait, don't tell me. I can remember...ah yes! With Gale, correct?"

Astarion swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. How...how did he know that?

"It was a fabulous excuse, was it not?" Cazador continued with a laugh, "We came up with that one together. After a little fun that is. I can see why you fell for their treachery Astarion, they are quite lovely, aren't they?"

No. No, no, no.

"Stop it," Astarion hissed, "Shut your mouth. I-It's not true."

"Oh but it is. I'm not sure if you're aware but you're quite the headache darling, not many can handle it. Not including myself. She even told me of that hilarious speech you gave. About wanting something real. It was just as funny to her as it was to me."

Astarion stared at him, at a complete loss for words. It couldn't be true. It couldn't. But...how else would he know that? In a camp full of people why did no one come to his aid? But the cruelty of it all...it was exactly the type of thing Cazador was versed in.

Setting up the same type of trap that he'd trained Astarion for, that he had used on others countless times. And he fell for it, he lost the game he thought he'd mastered.

His faith was slipping, hard and fast when he asked the horrible question, "How do you know that?"

"Because I sent them to you," He said with that disgusting grin, "It was no coincidence that you met. You were kidnapped, I needed you back, so I hired some help. It's a pity that they were captured as well. The pause to our plans was quite inconvenient. Our Tav just can't help but get distracted, can she?"

"No..." The word slipped out of Astarion without his consent, his mind racing. That couldn't be true. It didn't make sense. T-There had to be another explanation. If he could just think he'd find it. But...what point was there? He was already captured, taken. If anything, all of this being a grand scheme from Cazador was more logical than someone loving him.

He had gone through many, many tortures during his time here. Unspeakable, horrible things that he would never wish on anyone, excluding the man in front of him. But this...this was the worst thing he'd ever done to him. He had tricked him, you had tricked him, and he whole-heartedly fell for it, like the fool he was. The fool he would die as.

He didn't know it was possible, but this would be the greatest pain he ever knew. He was sure of that. Cazador had managed to do it. He had broken him, finally.

His tears were falling on their own accord, plentiful and pathetic. Cazador cooed at him, tracing his cheek with his horrid hand, "It hurts, doesn't it? I missed that expression on you my boy. You were always at you're prettiest when you had given up."

He wiped Astarion's tears away, gently holding his face as he spoke, "If only this was enough. The things I want to do to you for running away... I want to make you scream, make you beg for death. Just like how things used to be. If only we had the time."

Cazador let go, stepping back with a sigh, "How I wish that they had gotten you to me earlier. Though it's too late to pout about it now, the preparations are almost complete. But don't fret my boy, your end will have the meaning that your life failed to posses. Come along now."

Astarion hung there, limp as Cazador unhooked him from above. This was it. He was going to die here, as nothing but a pawn. He didn't even try to fight it when he was led down, deep into the palace to a place he'd never known existed. He kept his eyes closed for most of the journey, simply for the fact that he didn't have the strength to keep them open.

It was...a horrendous feeling to be incased in that red energy, floating in the air with all of his brothers and sisters as Cazador finished his preparations. It forced his eyes open against his will, making him see the hell that had been hiding beneath his feet all these years. He had been wrong about the sacrifice it seemed, it wasn't just them. There were thousands of bodies, barely alive in hanging cages, strewn throughout the place.

It was horrible, but fitting. Where else would something like him die? All he wished was that Cazador would hurry, so he could be done with it all. He has to much time to think in these last moments, too much time to examine your betrayal.

He...hates you. For it all. He hates you more than anything, enough for that same fury to come bubbling back to the surface. How dare you do this to him, after everything you'd been through. He should have killed you while you slept, while you let him drink from your throat. He should have killed them all, the vile sacks of shit.

If his soul ever found it's way back from the hell it was about to be damned too, he'd find you. His revenge was no longer reserved for Cazador, but for the wretched bitch hat tortured him in ways he didn't even think were possible. He'd do worse to you than anyone could imagine.

You were the cruelest thing to ever exist, as heartless and horrid as the monster before him.

So why was he still crying over it?

It didn't matter anyway. Not now. Now, all he could do was wait for the bitter end.

But then...he felt something. A familiar presence tickling the back of his mind. A barely there whisper, no words that he could make out. But it was getting stronger. Clearer.

It...it was you. Calling out to him with your illithid connection, begging for an answer.

My love, where are you? Astarion please, please tell me your there. Help me find you.

He can scarcely believe it. But he wasn't going to wait for his emotions to catch up to what could be an escape. He was screaming in his brain, trying to send out any signal that he could.

I'm here. I'm here. Don't let him take me. Please.

He could hear you in his head, the sheer relief from your mind nearly overwhelming, I'm coming. Hold on, I'm coming.

Astarion didn't even have the time to doubt. Because the next moment you were bursting through the ornate doors, nearly your entire team in tow.

Astarion had never seen you look the way you did then. He was so used to your kindness, the warmth and light that you tried to spread everywhere you went. You were always smiling, always laughing, always trying to share the same with others.

But now you were breathing hard, near feral in your posture as your eyes darted around, landing straight to the shocked Cazador. You looked murderous, vicious enough to send a shiver down Astarion's spine. Your teeth were bared, your whole body trembling with rage as you started to advance, weapons already drawn.

And in that moment Astarion was sure that you were the most gorgeous, perfect thing he had ever seen. Or ever would.

It was brutal, bloody battle. One that ended with you slitting Cazador's throat as Astarion watched in awe. You let the body fall to the ground, blasé before you finally ran to him, releasing him from his prison.

Then he was being pulled into the most crushing hug of his entire life. One that he was helpless to return. He clung to you, uncaring for their rather large audience.

He was too busy burying his face into your hair, breathing you in as you whispered into his shoulder, "Thank the Gods that you're still here."

The pain in your voice was so raw, so real. Astarion needed no other evidence to be sure that every word from the dead man's lips had been a lie. He was also positive that he had never cried this much in his life, but now it was a different kind of sob he was trying to choke back. The flood of relief was crushing, the truth that your love was real was nearly enough to destroy him all over again. Not for cruelties sake, but to make something new. To kill every last doubt he had that he was nothing, worthless. How could he be when you were here? When you came for him?

He pulled back reluctantly, smiling down at you with tear tracks on his face. He kissed your forehead, covered in sweat and blood, and gods knows what else.

It was all finally over. You both turned to the rest of the group, your hands clasped together as you made your way to where Cazador lay dead. It was satisfying to see, but such a shame that Astation wasn't the one to do the deed. A regret he'd have for the rest of his days.

Or so he thought.

But then you were turning to Shadowheart, your sweet face curling back into the disgust from earlier when you ordered, "Revive him."

Astarion watched, wide-eyed as she did what she was told. Cazador came back into consciousness, in what looked to be an extremely unpleasant experience. He was coughing blood, the spell doing just enough to mend his mortal wounds, but not nearly powerful enough to give him a fraction of his strength back. He stared upwards, his eyes wide at the sight of you lording over him.

And for the first time in two hundred years, Astarion saw fear in the other man's eyes. Wonderfully delicious fear.

He felt you squeeze his hand as he stared at him, speaking quietly, "He's yours. To do with what you please. Do...do you want us here for this?"

He could hear the hidden meaning in your words. This wasn't just a choice of what to do with him. It was a choice of what to do with them all. He had taken notice that he was the only one that you had freed, his brethren still suspended in air.

He turned to you, his voice strong for the first time since he'd come back to this pit, "I want you here for this."

You nodded before looking back to the others to tell them to wait outside. They did so reluctantly, obviously without confidence in his decision making abilities. He ignored the especially worried look Karlach sent his way, too focused on the piece of vampiric trash in front of him.

Cazador was still coughing, his mouth forming more vile words, "Y-You don't have to do this. I can-"

"Silence," Astation seethed, partly surprised when it worked to shut him up. But then again, he had never been placed in a position to see his master be the one without an escape, "Your life is in my hands now. Tell me the truth. How did you find me?"

Astarion could see the fury behind his eyes, the humiliation of being ordered around by his own spawn. But his desire for life won out in the end.

"Luck," he spat out, "Sheer luck. Yomen saw you in the city, at Shar's Caress with this one. He followed you, found your camp and reported back. I sent Dalyria and Petras to fetch you, gave them a powerful sleeping scroll to knock out your allies. And then you were mine again."

Astarion shouldn't have been surprised that he had the audacity to glare at Tav, seething, "Or at least you would have been."

"And my memories?" Astarion pressed, "How did you know of us?"

"The tadpole squirming behind your eyes doesn't change the fact that I am your master," Cazador said, "Your mind is mine to shape, to understand. It was more difficult than before, yes. But I had enough to know what to say."

Of course. He should have known, "So that was your last torture then?"

"Yes," Cazador said simply, a sneer managing to appear on his bloodied face, "And you have to admit, it worked wonderfully."

"You can kill him now if you'd like," You piped up from his side, staring down at the vampire like the trash he was, "Or...you can take his place."

You hesitated for a brief moment before steeling yourself, looking Astarion in the eye, "Whatever you choose, I'll be here for you. I promise."

Astarion nodded, weighing his options. It was so very difficult to not just kill him where he laid, like the pathetic dog he was. But then again...the ritual would mean endless power. Power that he could use to protect himself, to protect you. So nothing like this could ever happen again.

Astarion looked up, his eyes searching every last one of his brothers and sisters faces. They looked scared, perhaps even resigned to their fate. Just at the hands of another. Astarion hadn't expected the image to make him feel ill, yet it did.

Could he do it? Sacrifice them all, along with everyone else trapped in the bowels of their personal hell? He could. He knows he could. Yet...

He looked back at you, the only thing he had ever loved. The one person to show him a different way to live, who was giving him the freedom to be his own person. But... he wanted that person to be someone worthy of you. Someone who would make you proud.

And there was only one way to do that. Astarion let go of your hand, reaching for the dagger you kept at your belt before striding over to Cazador. He stabbed him with little fanfare, no warning, no chances to beg. And then he did it again, and again, and again. Until he lost count, until the body of his former master was mutilated, his chest nothing but unrecognizable gore.

He wasn't quite sure when he started crying again. He only realized it when he could barely breath through his own screams, every bit of rage, hurt, and humiliation that had been beaten into him coming straight to the surface. He sunk to his knees as he sobbed, tossing the knife to the side.

The whirlwind inside of him was too much, so overwhelming that he was afraid he'd be lost to it. But then he could feel it, you wrapping your arms around him, kneeling next to him as he broke down.

He clung to you, burying his face into your neck as he cried, desperate for your comfort, your touch. You were crying too he realized, your voice breaking as you gently spoke to him, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I should have been there to protect you. I love you, you did the right thing. I'm sorry."

You had nothing to apologize for, but that didn't stop your words from acting like a soothing balm to all of his internal wounds. But he would get through this. Because for the first time Astarion knew, without a shadow of a doubt he wouldn't have to get through it alone. With you by his side, he would never be alone again.

He wasn't sure how long you both spent there, kneeling in a pool of his tormentors blood. But he knew he felt different when he pulled away, changed.

Free.

He cupped your face, wiping away your tears while only managing to smear the mess about. But it didn't matter that you were both covered in blood and viscera, not when he had you.

"I love you too," Astarion whispered, finally allowing himself to unload the burden of hiding away from you. No more of that. He was yours, fully and completely, "I love you so much. I-I thought that this was it. That I'd never see you again. That you betrayed me-"

"Never," You interrupted, your voice fierce despite how it was breaking, "I never will. You're all I want, all I need. I should have been there, I'm so sorry-"

"No more apologies," Astarion murmered, pressing a quick kiss to your bloody mouth, "No more. We're here. That's all that matters."

You nodded, kissing him again, so sweet despite everything that should have made it sour. Despite his own words, Astarion couldn't help the white hot shame that passed through him. How could he have doubted you, even for a moment? Doubted this, the most beautiful that ever happened to him. Never again would he question what you had together, to let his mind be poisoned by others.

But there would be more time for the two of you later. The rest of your lives if he had anything to say about it. But for now...you freed him. And it was his turn to do the same.

Astarion pulled back, sighing as he looked around the room at his brethren. They were still hanging in the air, all privy to quite the show. He freed them, forgave them even, despite every horrid thing they'd done to eachother over the years.

But that didn't stop him from clocking Petras squarely in the face the second his feet touched the floor. The other man took it well enough, fully knowing that Astarion was capable of much, much worse. Though he was well aware that Petras had been compelled to kidnap him, it didn't change the fact that the punch was very satisfying.

As for the rest of the spawn, the thousands trapped here, he let them go as well. Down to the Underdark, where they could at least have a chance of controlling their feral nature before associating with mortals again.

Then it was time to leave this wretched place, forever. He would never be hurt here again, never controlled. He was free, finally. And with you by his side, what else could he ever ask for?

#astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 cazador #hes such a piece of shit #but I feel like this is something he would totally do #happy ending #but god damn that was rough #angst #a lot of angst #its there #front and center #long fic #you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands #im feeling spawn astarion man #i started this side blog for the ascended version but...#spawn is bae #female tav

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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 6 months ago

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Glasses | Spencer Reid x reader

Summary: Spencer shows up in new glasses and it awakens some new feelings for your fellow BAU agent.

A/N: I wrote this a month ago procrastinating studying for my exam 4 on Tuesday after I saw this GIF and finally finished it tonight. so here it is - hope you enjoy! this is NOT proofread. Sorry for any mistakes.

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

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********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

**Aye Warning: this is PG 13 - little raunchy at the end *

You and your fellow agents sat around the round table in the conference room. A new case had come to light, JJ gathering you all before you even had time to sit down at your desk. Fresh coffee sat in front of you and just the smell brought comfort. You glanced around the table, missing one of your agents. Spencer. Usually he beat you to work every morning, reprimanding and teasing you about it.

“If you’d drink the coffee here instead of stopping every morning on your way to work, you’d actually be on time and beat me here.” Spencer teases following you through the glass double doors. He was in his usual work attire - slacks and a button up. His hair a curly mess. His messenger bag hung over his shoulder.

You turned around to face him, walking backwards a few steps and made a face, mocking him, “I’m not drinking that tap water you all call coffee.” You saluted your coffee cup toward him, “I will always be late for a nice, fresh cup of coffee.”

“Where’s Spencer?” You asked, sipping on your coffee and flipping open the case file JJ tossed in front of you.

She took a moment to glance around the room, perplexed Spencer wasn’t here yet. “I actually don’t know.” She peeked out the window overlooking the rest of the office, “Usually he beats you here.”

JJ went on with the meeting, turning on the TV screen to show pictures of the crime scene and now the next missing and possible victim.

“Sorry I’m late-” Spencer says, out of breath as he enters the room in a rush. “I had an appointment and it ran later than expected -” He tosses his bag on the ground with a thud, sitting down and oblivious to the surprised looks from his fellow agents.

Glasses. Spencer was wearing glasses. Your jaw dropped at this new sight, the pen you were chewing on, hanging against your lips. You wouldn’t disagree, Spencer Reid was a very attractive man. I mean you’d admitted that multiple times, but he was also your coworker. A relationship with a coworker could create a rocky atmosphere for the BAU.

He always been an eye candy to look at, however, this new look tossed you over the edge, changing something inside you. You needed him. His touch, his lips against yours. You were overwhelmed with such affection and adoration. Where was this coming from? Immediately your mind went dirty, your face flushed with embarrassment at having those thoughts, scared someone else could hear them.

Spencer met your eyes from across the table, a new twinkle in his eye, “What did I miss?” He’d noticed the effect he had on you, he could read you like a book.

You couldn’t even look him the eye. God what was this man doing to you. A wave of warmth was felt through your body; spreading to your core as new fantasies come to light. A dark mahogany desk... Spencer in a button up, loosening the tie around his neck. Oh god. You sat up quickly as if you were just touched by a hot poker and composed yourself, “JJ was just telling us about the last victims who were found-” Your eyes pleadingly glanced at JJ and the screen behind her.

“Right anyways-”

Everyone had settled into their seats on the jet and you stood, slipping behind the curtain to grab a water bottle from the mini fridge. When you stood back up, you were met with Spencer’s chest, “Shit--Spencer.”

“Did I scare you?” He smiles in triumph, “You’re so jumpy.” He tilted his head as he observed the change in you.

You stepped out of the way as Spencer reached for mini fridge, fumbling for an excuse. “Watched a scary movie last night.”

He hums in response turning to face you, the small countertop digging into your back as you tried to put enough space between you and Spencer. “Which movie?” He glances back over his shoulder, checking the curtain is closed.

You glanced around him as well, wondering what he was looking for, but finally meeting his eyes, “oh you know.. I think it was scream?”

He closes the space between the two of you, slipping his hands behind you and placing them firmly on the countertop behind you.

“Spencer!” A quiet gasp escaped your lips as his body pressed against yours.

“Shhh...” He places his index against your lips as he leans in close, the smell of his aftershave and minty breath hitting you in a wave. His breath is hot against your neck as his lips dance along your neck.

Your entire body submits to his touch. oh god.

“Wouldn’t want them to know what we’ve been up to these last couple months, now would we?”

Comments, likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! x

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Criminal Minds tag list: @thelovelydreamer17 , @la-vie-en-amour1 , @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 , @astra-inclinant-sed-non-obligant (possibly: @astra-x-inclinant) , @bluerose512 , @lolychu , @varsityalthete

All my works tag list: @blossomreed , @mggstyles , @simonsbluee , @thewolf-and-thesheep , @obxrafe , @abbiesthings , @itstaskeen , @reniescarlett

#spencer reid x female!reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female!reader fic #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid imagines #Spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer reid fanfic #Spencer reid x reader fic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds imagine

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andvys · 6 months ago

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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter sixteen ⭐︎ Hold me, love me, touch me, honey

Warnings: 18+ minors don’t interact! smut, unprotected sex, *cough* breeding kink *cough*, slight allusions to pregnancy? but not really. not proofread... ignore any mistakes please

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve's newfound feelings awaken something else in him when you reveal a little secret to him.

Word count: 7.9k+

Author’s note: I'm sorry for taking so long with this chapter, I hope it was worth the wait though and that you guys will enjoy it! shoutout to @hellfire--cult for helping with this as always hehe ♡

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

The aching in your head is the first thing you feel when you wake from your deep sleep, the throbbing pain making you groan in displeasure. When you open your eyes, you quickly shut them again, it’s not even that bright in the room, the curtains are closed but the little light that peeks through is still enough to hurt your sensitive eyes. You scrunch your nose and raise your hands up towards your face, hiding your eyes with your palms, you roll over on your side and sink your face into Steve’s pillow.

You can still taste the beer in your mouth and it brings back the nausea that has been haunting you for a while.

You raise your head and touch the spot beside you, sliding your palm back and forth, only to find Steve’s side of the bed empty.

He is downstairs, you can hear the radio, it’s not even loud but your ears could pick up any sound right now.

You squint open your eyes and give yourself a moment to adjust to the light, you stretch your arms out and inhale his scent that lingers all around you, embracing the fluttering in your heart. You slowly push yourself up but keep the covers over your body, looking over at the nightstand on your side of the bed, a smile appears on your face when you see the glass of water and Advil along with a little note ‘drink up, blondie – and come downstairs for coffee and breakfast’. Your dry mouth is begging for the water, you scoot over and reach for it, gladly grabbing the painkiller too, you throw it into your mouth and wash it down with the water.

From the corner of your eye, you see the clothes you wore the night before, the skirt he slid down your body, the top and the bra he took off for you before he helped you put on his shirt.

Pictures of last night start flashing in your mind, you remember how he held your hand and how he kissed you, how he held you and refused to let you out of his sight. He was soft with you, gentle and sweet — how you always wished him to be with you.

Was it because of how you acted? Because of the side you always refused to show?

The alcohol in your system revealed something you were always afraid to show, a you that you’ve always kept sacred, because you were too afraid to show your real self to people, the gentle and caring side, the loving one that craved intimacy and affection so so badly. This side of you is too vulnerable and you don’t like it, you don’t like to be perceived that way. You’d rather let people keep seeing you like this — rough, mean and cold. They won’t know if you’re hurt, they won’t see through your act, they won’t see you, and you want to keep it that way.

Embarrassment fills you the longer you think of how you were around him, how giddy and happy you were, how love guided you to kiss him and treat him as though he was your boyfriend when he wasn’t, when he isn’t, when he will never be.

How will you face him after last night?

What does he think of you now?

Will he treat you differently now?

Can you just pretend like you don’t remember a single thing and you can both go back to normal?

You throw the covers off your body and get up from the bed, making a trip to the bathroom to brush your teeth, wash your face and comb through your hair to make yourself look more presentable before you walk downstairs to join Steve in the kitchen.

Your heart starts doing pitter patters the closer you get to him, feeling nervous to look into his eyes and trying to pretend like everything is normal between you both like his soft touches didn’t fill you with a sliver of hope – something that makes you feel like a fool, there is no hope, there shouldn’t be, but your stupid heart can’t understand that.

When you walk into the kitchen and you look out the window, you realize that it’s not even that bright out, the sun is only peeking through the big clouds, drops of rain roll down the windows, and the faintest sound of thunder rumbles through the sky, overpowering the music playing from the radio.

Goosebumps rise up on your skin, an unsettling feeling appears in your stomach but you’re not afraid, despite how uneasy you feel, you’re not afraid, because you aren’t alone, because you’re with him.

It smells like coffee and waffles, the mixed scents making your lips curl into an excited smile.

Steve is standing with his back to you, finishing up on the waffles that he’s already got a stacked up plate of, he is sipping on his coffee and you wonder how long he has been up for already.

His head is slightly banging along to the music, his hair is still messy, uncombed and unstyled, he is wearing a white tank top and sweatpants, he looks so cozy – that’s how you love him the most.

You take in a shaky breath and open your mouth to speak, to say good morning, to say something as the nervousness seeps in deeper but he beats you to it, as though he can feel your eyes on him, he turns around to face you, his hazel eyes lighten up at the sight of you, the smugness that sinks into his features makes you shrink into yourself a little, your cheeks heat up and you suddenly feel flustered.

“Good morning, Blondie,” he smirks, eyeing you up and down as he takes you in, how you look in his shirt – he will never get tired of this sight. “How are you feeling?”

“Morning,” you murmur as you make your way over to the coffee maker, you reach for one of the mugs in the cupboard and place it on the counter, pouring yourself some coffee, you take your time turning back to him as you try to calm your nerves and your blushing. “Good… surprisingly.”

Steve chuckles behind you, you hear his footsteps and how he opens the fridge, getting something out of it before closing it again.

“Yeah, you were pretty drunk last night,” he clears his throat and you suddenly feel his breath on your shoulder and his hand on your waist as he places the creamer on the counter before you, “no hangover?”

His hand lingers and he doesn’t step away just yet.

“Thanks,” you murmur as you reach for the creamer and pour some into your coffee, “my head hurts a little but I feel fine.”

Steve nods behind you, he squeezes your waist and fights the urge to just turn you around and steal your breath away by kissing you deeply.

“Did you drink the water and the Advil I put on the nightstand?”

He doesn’t remove his hand, even when you turn around to face him, he leaves it on your waist.

You cup the mug with both hands and bring it up to your lips, taking a sip as you look up into his eyes. The burning in your cheeks is still there, the heat matching the one of the hot beverage in your hands.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Good,” he nods, eyeing your face slowly.

He can tell that you’re flustered and shy even – that is a rare sight to see, it makes the fluttering in his heart so much stronger.

You blink as you stare up at him and take another sip, squirming a little when he takes a step closer.

Steve can’t help but chuckle to see you blushing, he brings his hand up towards your face, slipping his fingers through your hair before he tucks it behind your ear.

“Do you want another kissy?”

Your lips part and your eyes widen, more embarrassment rushes through you at his teasing.

Steve chuckles again when you roll your eyes and groan.

“Stop!” You whine, not knowing that this sound only makes him adore you even more. “I was so drunk!”

“Yeah? I couldn’t tell,” he snorts, shaking his head in amusement.

“That was the alcohol talking,” you murmur, lying.

“Was it?” He asks, furrowing his brows as he tilts his head to the side, adoringly so. “I don’t know, I really liked this Blondie. She was so cute and touchy.”

Whether he’s teasing or mocking you, your heart doesn’t seem to care as it beats even faster in your chest. The thought that Steve could find you cute makes you feel giddy and it fills you with a sense of happiness only he can make you feel.

You roll your eyes at him but he chuckles as a smile tugs at your lips.

Steve’s hand moves from the side of your face to your shoulder and then to your waist again.

“Don’t get me wrong, your mean side grew on me but you were so adorable last night.”

Adorable.

He is teasing you, you are sure that he is just teasing you, the smirk on his lips, the glowing mischief in his eyes gives him away.

“Don’t forget your waffles,” you blurt out, not knowing what else to say to that.

He huffs in amusement and squeezes your waist once more before he steps away from you, making his way back to the kitchen counter, he opens the waffle maker and takes out the last one, placing it on the plate before he turns his head to look at you.

“Come on, I already set up the table.”

You turn to look at the round kitchen table, seeing it set up just the way it was the first time he made you breakfast.

Warmth blooms in your chest and your eyes soften.

He held you in his arms when you fell asleep last night, he got up before you just to make you breakfast – your favorite kind too.

Is he like that with everyone?

Does he treat all his hookups like this?

Does he make them breakfast too or hold them in his arms until they fall asleep?

Or are you the only one that gets all this?

You don’t even know if he is seeing anyone, if someone else occupies your side of his bed when you don’t see each other.

Your eyes follow him as he makes his way over to the table and places the plate full of waffles in the middle.

The thought that someone else might get this too makes you feel uneasy, upset, and hurt.

He looks at you with furrowed brows, looking as you stand there with a frown on your face, holding the mug against your chest as you stare at him.

“Come here, your waffles are gonna get cold.”

You blink, snapping out of the thoughts that leave you with a bitter taste on your tongue.

You nod and step away from the kitchen counter, you hold the mug tightly in your hands as you make your way over to him.

Steve pulls back the chair for you, waiting for you to take a seat.

You try to hide the surprise and the blush on your face as you hide your face behind your hair and turn your back to him as you sit down but it doesn’t go unnoticed by him, he smiles to himself, adoring this shy side of you.

“Eat, Blondie,” he murmurs, patting your shoulder before he walks around the table and takes the seat across from you, “we need to get some energy back in you.”

“Yeah, I actually agree,” you chuckle, picking up a waffle for your fork, “I feel like there’s a huge hole in my stomach.”

“You need to eat more,” he says sternly. “You devoured that chicken sandwich last night.”

“Mhmm it was heavenly,” you nod and pour some syrup on your waffle, “especially after all the beers I’ve had.”

Steve chuckles, picking up the bowl with strawberries and raspberries, he puts them on your plate, “you need some vitamins too.”

“Yes, mom.”

“Shut up,” he snorts.

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, only the sound of the radio continues on. You eat your waffles and drink your coffees, sharing glances and sweet smiles, a few comments here and there, his foot touching your own under the table. This is nice. You could get used to this.

If only you knew that he feels the same.

Steve watches you, how you comfortably sit here with him, enjoying the breakfast that he made for you, you’re much quieter than you were last night and he can’t help but miss the other side of you — the clingy and touchy one, the one that asked for kisses and even peppered his face in them. He wonders if you even remember any of it or the things you’ve said to him. You rambled so much, that you probably forgot about the comments you made.

He takes a sip of his coffee and clears his throat, “do you remember what you said to me last night?”

Despite remembering everything, you can’t help but panic slightly, wondering if there’s a small detail you can’t recall, that you might’ve said something you tried to keep secret, that you accidentally revealed your feelings, or even confessed your love for him.

“Uh… I think I’ve said a lot,” you chuckle nervously, scratching the back of your neck as you straighten your back.

He laughs and nods, “yeah you did, but you told me you had a surprise for me. What’s that about?”

The look on his face is a curious one, his head is tilted to the side, tapping his fingers against his mug.

A surprise.

Oh, you surely remember that and what you meant by ‘surprise’ and you can’t help but curse inwardly at your drunken self for thinking that it was a good idea to mention it as that.

Heat rushes to your cheeks again and the nervousness inside of you returns once more.

“Ah, right uh… it’s not exactly a surprise but uh…” you pause, not knowing how to start this conversation, sensing the awkwardness that is about to ruin this comforting moment already.

He raises his brows at you, waiting for you to continue.

You take a deep breath, breaking eye contact for a moment to look out the window.

“Um, do you remember those three days we didn’t see each other before Vickie’s party?” You ask and look back at him.

“Yeah.”

“I went to the doctor one of those days…”

His eyes widen a little, his heart skips a beat as some kind of hope swirls inside of him and a million questions start running through his mind.

“Oh?” Is the only thing he can say as the excitement for something that probably doesn’t even exist starts building up.

You bounce your knee and hold your mug tightly, blinking as you stare into his hazel eyes.

“Yeah I um… I got an IUD.”

Steve blinks a few times.

“I’m sorry, what?” He asks in confusion, he expected something else.

You huff, getting more and more nervous as each second passes.

“An IUD… Birth control? Didn’t you learn that in school Lego Head?”

He nods quickly and furrows his brows again, “I know what it is, I’m just wondering why.”

The heat in your cheeks intensifies and suddenly glows so hotly, embarrassment flushes through you and as he stares at you, completely lost and confused, you feel like a deer caught in headlights.

You had never used birth control before him, or even thought about it, you would’ve never gone without protection with anyone else, birth control or not but with Steve, it’s different. You want him. You want to feel him. You want him closer and more intimately. That one time wasn’t enough, how could it ever be?

But while you kept thinking about this, wishing for a repeat, he clearly didn’t want the same.

“J-Just in case,” you mumble with a shaky voice, not realizing just how nervous and small your voice sounds.

The gears in his head start turning, though very slowly and he is still staring with parted lips and widened eyes.

He knows what you mean by that, he knows what you want and he wants it too, he’s been wanting it so badly, he’s been thinking about it day and night, when you’re with him or not — he wants you, he wants to feel you again and again.

He just can’t believe you fucking said that.

You blink and look down, clearing your throat as you close your eyes, feeling regret settling in the pit of your stomach.

“Just, forget I said that, it's just another measure of contraceptive, we don't need um — you know to lose the other, just to make sure you know! The IUD might fail…” You clear your throat, knowing that an IUD's failure is only... like 2%.

Your heart starts beating wildly in your chest and you feel the need to escape this awkward situation and him.

“I uh, I’m gonna get changed and go home… and we can talk later,” you mumble and get up from the chair, not looking into his eyes, “thanks for breakfast…”

You rush out of the room and away from him before he can even react or say a single world. You hurry up the stairs and walk back into his room, gathering your clothes as quickly as you can.

“You’re so stupid,” you murmur under your breath, cursing at yourself.

What were you thinking? That he wanted you like this? That he would care and get excited about something that wouldn’t mean anything to him?

You don’t listen to the footsteps in the hallway or the door that opens behind you but you yelp in surprise when you feel his hands on your waist and he turns you around, ripping the skirt from your hands that you were just about to put on, he throws it back on the bed and cups your cheeks, nearly making you gasp from how dark and lust filled his eyes are.

“You can’t just tell me that you’re letting me fuck you raw and then run out on me.”

“I—“

With his lips against your own, he cuts you off roughly, not letting you finish whatever you were about to say as he kisses you with desperation in his touch as his hands move from your cheeks down to your waist and he grips it tightly.

You whimper in need, throwing your arms around his neck, you ignore the surprise and the pounding in your chest. You deepen the kiss and bury your fingers in his messy hair.

His lips taste like coffee and the sweetness from the waffles, his chest is pressed against yours tightly, so tightly that you can feel the beating of his own heart. He slips his tongue into your mouth and you feel him against your stomach, making you squeeze your legs together as you feel heat pooling in your lower stomach.

And just like that, all your worries, all your overthinking disappear into nothing as pleasure takes over your body.

The kiss is messy, his lips smack against yours continuously, his hands grope your body over his shirt that he wants to get rid of.

Steve always feels eager and desperate to fuck you, to strip you off your clothes and taste you, to pleasure you with his tongue and his fingers, to take you in a way no one else can but he isn’t sure if he ever felt this kind of need before. He feels as though his skin is on fire, the burning seeping through his flesh and only you can mend it.

His dick strains against his boxers and his sweatpants, almost hurting from how hard it is and he can’t help but growl against your lips when you slide your hand down his body and start to palm him over his clothes.

He slips his hands under your shirt, touching your hot skin with his cold fingers.

The sound of your whimper only pushes him further into you, gaining dominance in the kiss as his tongue moves against yours eagerly.

He pulls away just enough to murmur against your lips, “you drive me crazy, Blondie.”

You can’t hold back the whine that falls from your lips, you almost feel embarrassed for what he turns you into every time he touches you.

His eyes are dark, almost unrecognizable, he looks hungry, like he’s starving, for you. And it does little to mend your own hunger.

He grabs your waist tighter and picks you up, catching you off guard when he throws you on his bed, making you bounce on the mattress.

Steve makes quick work of getting rid of his tank top before he crawls on top of you, spreading your thighs with his knee and reaching for the hem of your shirt, he practically rips it off of your body and exposes your bare chest to him, his eyes grow even darker in the process.

He grabs your boobs with his large hands, pinching your nipples, he leans down and hovers over you.

“Steve!” You moan, lips parting as you chase after his lips.

“Keep moaning like that for me,” he murmurs before he smashes his lips back against yours, kissing you just as roughly as before.

You close your eyes and reach for his shoulders, holding tightly onto him as you move your lips against his, melting into the kiss.

You don’t even bother to try and fight for dominance, you won’t win, not today. Steve is in control, and you don’t mind, not for a single second. The pace of the kiss, the touch of his hands, his moans, and the roughness of his lips turn you into a desperate mess as you arch your back and lean into his touch, trying to grind against him.

Your panties are already damp, the material clinging to your pussy and you just want him to rip them off you just as he did with the shirt.

As though he can read your mind, he slips his hand down your stomach, his fingers reach the flimsy material that still covers you. He presses your hips down before he touches you the way you’ve been whining for. He groans into the kiss when he feels how wet you are, knowing that he is the cause of it.

“Is that all for me?” He asks, not moving away from your lips, he rubs circles on your clothed clit, making you whine for more.

“You know it is!” You don’t feel ashamed to admit it, you don’t bother to hide something that is so obvious anyway.

He chuckles in satisfaction as he moves his middle and ring finger lower, teasing your entrance.

“D-Don’t tease me,” you beg, pleading with your eyes as you dig your fingers into his shoulders.

“You’re so desperate for me, aren’t you?” He smirks, pecking your lips as he moves your panties to the side. “So desperate that you want me to fuck you raw, huh?” He asks as he slips his fingers through your wet folds, gathering your slick and bringing his digits up to your clit.

“Yes!” You whine as you buck your hips up, grinding against his fingers.

“You want me to cum inside of you again, don’t you? Want me to fill you up, honey?” He asks as he continues to tease your clit before he slips two fingers into your dripping hole.

You suck in a sharp breath, closing your eyes as a loud moan escapes you, he catches it with his lips, smashing his mouth back against yours, stealing your breath with the kiss and the pace of his fingers as he starts to drag them in and out of you, keeping your legs spread with his left hand.

He lets you adjust for a moment, spreading you open with his long fingers, he kisses you deeply and grinds against your thigh, getting desperate for relief himself.

The touch of your hand and the feeling of your lips against his own makes his heart flutter and his dick twitch in anticipation.

This moment is all so driven by lust but he can no longer deny the way you make him feel, the way he needs to feel you close otherwise he might go insane, he wonders if you feel the same, if that is the reason why you want him in a whole new way.

You clench around his fingers and move your hips, wanting more, wanting him deeper. You mewl against his lips when he curls his fingers inside of you and his thumb presses against your aching clit.

“Do you hear that?” He asks breathlessly, pecking your lips over and over again. “You’re dripping for me.”

Steve admires the scrunch of your nose and the furrowed brows, the desperate look in your eyes as you look into his. Your skin is flushed, your chest is rising up and down heavily, your nipples hardened from the coldness in the room and the pleasure in your bones, you’re getting wetter and tighter around his fingers.

“But you want more, right?” He asks and leans down to wrap his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue around it, “you want me to breed you, don’t you?”

His words are driven by lust, a part of him he doesn’t recognize shining through, surprising both you and himself.

You gasp, your cheeks flushing even deeper as the heat rages underneath your skin. You feel too shy to admit it but this might be exactly what you wanted.

You liked it when he fucked you against his door, when he came inside of you and his cum rolled down your thighs, you loved it even, despite how messy it was, you loved it because it was him.

You nod and shut your eyes again, your mouth waters at the feeling of his fingers hitting your g-spot and you arch your back in pleasure as your hands find their way back to his hair, pulling and playing with it, making him match his moans with yours.

“P-Please, Steve…” You whimper as you feel the fire building up in your stomach, beginning to crash over you, “I’m so close.”

Steve starts kissing your chest and making his way up to your neck, tilting your head to the side to suck a mark onto your delicate skin as he continues to fuck you, faster and rougher, moaning at the squelching sounds and your pretty whimpers.

“Yeah?” He breathes, peppering kisses along your neck and your jaw, “are you gonna be a good girl for me and cum around my fingers?”

“Yes!”

Your breathing gets heavier, your heart starts pounding faster and you can’t help but reach for his face, dragging him back to you so you can slam your lips back against his as your fingers dig into his hair roughly when he rubs your clit faster, throwing you over the edge with his touch.

You kiss each other feverishly, you scrunch your eyes shut, letting the pleasure take control, letting him slam his fingers in and out of your pussy, causing tears to build up in your eyes from the hot intensity.

“Let go for me,” he whispers against your lips, “cum for me.”

One more thrust and a deeper swipe against your clit has you crying out his name in pleasure and this time, he lets you shut your legs around his arm, though that doesn’t stop him from moving his fingers still.

Stars flash in your vision and the wind gets knocked out of you, the overwhelming high crashing over your body.

“S-Steve,” you whimper.

“Yes?” He kisses your lips. “Tell me what you want.”

“You!”

“Me?” He smirks, licking his lips as he looks down, watching the way your thighs are shaking already. “How do you want me? Tell me, honey.”

You are so deep in your pleasure, no shame, no shyness exists for you in this very moment. You are so eager to feel him the way you’ve been craving him for weeks now.

“I want your cock, Steve–” You whine, tugging at his hair. “Please fuck me!”

He chuckles darkly, eyes growing five shades darker, something in him awakens, something that had never been there before, not even the night of Vickie’s party.

He pulls his fingers out of you, fighting the urge to stick them into your mouth and make you lick and suck on them. He grabs your hips and manhandles you on your stomach, knocking the breath out of you again. He slaps your ass and gropes it roughly.

“Stevie!”

“Get on all fours for me.”

You whine, gripping the sheets underneath you tightly as you look back at him over your shoulder, nearly pouting at him but he only slaps your ass again.

“C’mon Blondie, wanted me to breed you, we gotta do it the right way.”

His fingers are still coated with your slick as he pushes his sweatpants and boxers down, making his dick slap against his stomach, pre cum rolls down his length, his tip is red, he is aching for you and twitching in anticipation, knowing that he gets to fuck you without a condom.

Steve expects you to push yourself up on your hands and knees but instead, you worsen his hunger by pressing your front against the mattress and pushing your ass up, presenting yourself to him.

“Holy fuck,” he curses, biting back the growl that threatens to fall from his lips as he takes in the sight of you. Your pussy glistens, the arch in your back is deep, your ass up high and you look over your shoulder again, giving him a pout and desperate eyes as you beg him to fuck you and fill you up.

The hunger in him is insatiable, he already knows it, he will never get enough of this, he will never get enough of you and he doesn’t mind, not even after last night’s realization and how easy it could now be for you to crush his heart — it’s yours now.

He wishes that he could take a picture of this and keep it in his wallet.

He moves closer to you, grabbing your ass and sliding his palms over your cheeks before he grips your hip tightly, slipping his already soaked fingers through your folds, he gathers your slick and uses it as lubricant to stroke his dick before he presses himself against you, pressing his lips together as he looks down at your pussy.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me do this,” he murmurs as he teases you with his tip, circling it around your dripping entrance, moaning at the sight of it.

“P-Please,” you whimper, pressing your ass back against him, prompting him to hold your hip even tighter as he slips his length through your wet folds, continuing to tease you and himself. “Just fuck me already!”

The tone in your voice is nowhere near demanding, it’s anything but that, you're whiny and desperate – you are showing a sight only he is allowed to see.

The excitement is burning in him, his own desperation eating at him. Seeing you like this makes him want to do things he has never done before. His fingers dig into your flesh and he sucks in a sharp breath as he slowly pushes into you.

Your name falls from his lips in a moan, his eyelashes flutter as the pleasure finally envelopes him. With one hand on your hip and the other now grabbing your ass, he inches inside of you, groaning at the sight of your puffy lips around his length.

“Oh my god,” you whimper, gripping the sheets tightly and shutting your eyes as you feel him splitting you open.

“You’re taking me so fucking good, baby,” he praises you, smacking his palm against your cheek once again, making you jerk and gasp in pleasure. “You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

Your stomach flutters at his words, as your walls do around his length, causing him to moan as he pushes in deeper and deeper until he’s buried inside of you, completely.

“Y-Yes, Steve!” You cry out. “I’m your good girl!”

You are both doing things and saying words you never thought you’d ever use, whether it’s the pleasure that is controlling you both, the desperation or something in the atmosphere but neither of you care, this is nice, this is perfect.

“That’s right,” he growls as he pulls out and slams back in, making you cry out his name.

Steve starts rolling his hips, roughly and desperately, picking up the pace with every thrust, making you both moan and whimper in pleasure. His cock hitting deep in every right spot, making you drool already.

You hold onto the sheets, your eyes roll back as filthy sounds fall from your lips. You want to look back and watch him, see how good he looks fucking you like this but you find no energy to lift yourself up or turn your head. Your chest is pressed against the mattress beneath you, Steve’s hands feel so right on your hips, molding into your skin so perfectly. Waves of pleasure crash over you, making you arch your back even further, giving him an even deeper angle.

You gasp in surprise, eyes shooting open when his large palm smacks against your flesh again.

“You’re so filthy, honey,” Steve moans, his eyes nearly roll back as he feels your tight walls clench around him, prompting him to hold you tighter and fuck you harder, snapping his hips against your ass. “Letting me fuck you like this, wanting me to cum in this tight little pussy.”

You feel his throbbing length, the veins on his cock, his balls slapping against your sensitive skin, the roughness of his touch and the eagerness in his voice – it overwhelms you in the best way possible, especially when you feel him growing more and more desperate the closer he gets to his high.

“Y-Your cock feels so good!” You whimper, your head falling and your eyes closing, tears slipping from your eyes.

“Yeah?” He breathes as he looks down at the way he is slamming in and out of you, his length glistening with your slick, your wet walls hugging his dick perfectly. You keep clenching around him, making him throb and twitch inside of you, making him whine in a way he isn’t sure he ever did before – but one thing is for sure, Steve had never felt anything like this before, and he knows he never will again after you. “Your pussy feels like fucking heaven.”

Your walls flutter around him, drool slips past your lips and down on the rumpled bed sheets, you can feel your second high approaching, you can feel the tension in your stomach, the ache in your clit.

Steve fucks you mercilessly, dragging you back and forth on the mattress as though you are his personal fucktoy. And for a moment, you both don’t share any words, only your moans of desperation and need fill the room, the wet sounds of his dick slamming into your weeping pussy, the bed creaking beneath you, and the occasional smacks against your ass.

His hair clings to his sweaty forehead, his cheeks are glowing red, and he doesn’t know where to look, he wants to see your face, he wants to keep staring at the way his dick disappears into you – this feels surreal, like it’s something that came straight out of his dreams.

He feels the need to make you scream, so he slides his hand under you, his fingers finding your clit with ease, he begins to play with your sensitive nub as he changes his pace to slower but deeper and harsher.

You gasp and twitch beneath him, trying to push yourself up only to fall back down again, the sight of it making him chuckle darkly.

“Steve!” You scream out, feeling just how sensitive you are when he rubs your clit faster. “I-I’m so close!”

He can’t help himself when he leans down and presses his lips against your shoulder blades, murmuring against your skin, “do it, cum around my cock, baby.”

Stars and tears blur your vision, the feeling of his lips on your skin only adding to the pleasure, the softness of it a stark contrast to the harshness of his thrusts, the sweet nickname and the swipe against your clit throwing you over the edge completely and you’re suddenly cumming and screaming out for him.

“B-Baby,” he murmurs in a mix of a whimper and a growl, hands flying back to your hips, he grabs you tightly as he feels your walls clinging to him, making him shudder. “I’m gonna… fuck…” He groans, going to pull out, out of instinct. “I need to–”

“Cum inside of me, Stevie!” You sob as his fingers still move against your clit. “Please, please, please!”

He can’t even control it, your words hit him so hard and he suddenly cums, hard. He spills inside of you with a loud moan and a whimper of your name, he paints your walls white and he keeps moving, even as his eyes roll back and he grows sensitive. All of this turns him on even more, not even after he reaches his high, if anything, his hunger is even more insatiable now.

He slows his thrusts and he breathes heavily, his eyes are still clouded with lust, moans still falling as he takes in the sound of your whiny whimpers.

Steve licks his lips as he pulls out after a moment, despite not wanting to but the vision in front of him is so worth it, his cum leaks out of your pussy and starts to roll down your thighs. He doesn’t know what gets over him when an animalistic growl falls from his lips and he gathers his cum with his fingers and pushes it back inside of you.

“Don’t wanna let any of it go to waste,” he smirks when you whine even louder.

You’re surprised and incredibly turned on by his action, you have to press your shaking thighs together, the ache in your center growing bigger despite the two orgasms you just had.

“Steve…”

Steve is staring at your pussy, at the way you’re sucking his fingers in, at the mess he made of you, how can he not grow hard all over again?

“God, that’s so fucking hot,” he murmurs under his breath.

He pushes his fingers in and out of you, admiring the way he pushes his cum deeper back inside of you – somehow the thought of what could happen if you didn’t have an IUD turns him on even more. Steve keeps going, using the same slow pace for a while, getting lost in you before he snaps back as your whimper tears him back into reality – but he wants more, he needs more, and he decides to keep you here with him, all day.

“I got you,” he whispers, pulling his fingers out and cleaning them off on his messed up sheets before he starts kissing up your body, letting his lips linger on your shoulder before he wraps his arm around you and flips you over on your back.

His lust filled eyes intensify when he sees the tears pooling on your lower lash line, the needy look in your own eyes. He cups your cheek and presses his lips against yours for a short kiss, craving more of you.

You reach your arm out weakly, and kiss him back, savoring this moment for as long as you can before he pulls away again and collapses on the bed beside you, he places his hand on your thigh, keeping it there as he starts breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath.

Silence falls over the both of you, you stare up at the ceiling, too speechless to speak, too stunned with what just happened.

His fingertips stroke your skin, your heart is pounding in your chest, your legs quivering as his cum leaks out of you, making you press your thighs together.

You can’t believe that you would ever be turned on by something like this, that you’d ever be here, that you’d ever do something like this with him.

You want more and more.

You blink, a lazy smile tugging at your lips, the fluttering in your heart and stomach taking over again.

“So…” Steve mumbles, turning his head to look at you, to admire your beautiful side profile, “can we discard the condom from now on?”

“Only if you wrap it up for… others,” you mumble, wincing at your own words as you don’t want to ruin the moment for yourself by thinking of this.

Steve furrows his brows, smile falling a little.

You think that there are others?

You think that he could even think of being with someone else, let alone like this?

He squeezes your thigh reassuringly, “there are no others, don’t worry about it.” He says softly.

Your features soften and a weight falls off your shoulders and your heart, and still you can’t help but feel surprised about his confession.

“You are the only one, Blondie.”

He wants you dead.

You are so sure of it, Steve Harrington wants you dead.

Why else would he say such words to you?

“O-Oh?”

Steve is so in bliss, he doesn’t even notice the blush in your cheeks and the quivering tone in your voice.

“Yeah, and what about you?”

You turn your head to look at him, you lock your eyes with his.

What about you?

You can never touch another man again, that is for sure. No matter what the outcome of this thing between you will be, you’re ruined, utterly ruined.

You blink, heat flushing over your body the longer you look at him, at his messy hair that you always want to bury your fingers in, the hazel in his eyes that is now your favorite color, his puffy lips that you want to kiss, moles you want to count and trace with the tips of your fingers.

God, he is beautiful.

“There are no others for me either,” you whisper, feeling exposed and vulnerable to admit it to him.

The smile that appears on his face catches you off guard, he seems… happy about it?

And he is, he truly is.

Steve doesn’t want you to be with anyone else, he doesn’t want you to see other men, kiss them or let them touch you the way he is allowed to. He wants to be the only one for you, he wants to be your only one.

He squeezes your thigh again, scooting closer to you, he eyes your face and lets them linger on your lips.

“Guess we’re exclusive then huh?” He asks with a smirk on his lips.

Your breath hitches in your throat, hope flickering inside of you, the anxiety you felt over thoughts of him with other girls diminishing just like that.

You try to act normal, like you aren’t fazed by his words, like your heart didn’t burst, like this isn’t anything special.

You clear your throat, “seems like it.”

He chuckles, hiding the happiness that flutters in him.

This is what he wants, this is what he has been craving for a while now, to have you all to himself, to be the only to touch you, to taste you, to fuck you, to fill you up and claim you as his own.

“You got anything to do today, Blondie?”

“I uh… I was gonna meet up with Eddie—“

“Cancel it.”

You raise your brows in surprise, confusion flashes in your features but your heart slips a beat when you see the darkening in his eyes again and the feeling of his hand gripping you tighter and harder.

“What?”

He moves closer and closer until his lips are on your jaw and he tilts your head to the side so he can kiss your neck, nibbling at your skin and pressing his hand against your sensitive core again.

“Cancel. It.” He rasps into your neck.

A gasp tears from your lips when he slips his fingers back into your pussy, morning at the feeling of his cum inside of you.

“You don’t need anyone but me today,” he whispers as he presses another kiss against your neck and curls his fingers inside of you.

You bite your lip and moan when he spreads your legs with his free hand, his long fingers pushing deeper into you — you are so sensitive, so overstimulated but just like him, you can’t get enough, you want more.

“Steve…”

“Mhmm.” He murmurs against your neck, peppering kisses along your skin, “I know, baby. I’m gonna take good care of you.”

And taking good care he did. He fingered you in bed until you saw stars, mesmerized by how his own spent worked as lube, mixed with your own juices. You felt exhausted after that, so he drew a bath for you and even helped you wash your hair, knowing your limbs were all tired out.

But he couldn’t have enough of you. Not when you got into his mustard sweater because you felt a little chilly, leaving your legs bare. He wanted to give you more time to relax but he couldn’t help himself while making lunch, so he had to bend you over the kitchen counter to make you scream again.

Overstimulation was very much present, to the both of you, but you couldn’t stop. You wanted to feel him and he wanted to feel you. It felt intimate, and private, but most of all… it felt… hopeful.

Hopeful that, even if you spent a whole day fucking, that this new development means something. Hopeful that this exclusivity is real and will go on until he decides to actually take the leap, to actually fight for what he wants again. Hopeful that he feels the same as you do. That you two would not do this with anyone else, but with each other.

But those thoughts can be for another day. For tomorrow. Maybe the day after, because right now, as he hugs you in the middle of the night, laying in bed, dinner devoured, and one last round of feeling one another, you feel your heart be calm for the first time in a while.

Because for the first time ever you actually feel it. Genuine. True. It is no longer a mere word that you discard, no longer a word that sits in the back of your mind, thinking you would be so stupid to actually let yourself feel that.

But this night, you swore you felt something at the top of your head that you are sure you didn’t make it up. You felt a press at the top of it. A kiss. A good night kiss from his part as he kept rubbing circles on your lower back. This is not the same Steve from a month ago. This is not the same you from a month ago. You two are not the same as a month ago.

So you let yourself feel it. Embrace it. And maybe… maybe it will grow more at some point that it might give you the courage to take that definite step.

You felt confident.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington blurb #stranger things angst

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ghettogirly · 5 months ago

Note

Ok, What about armando aretas finding out you're pregnant with his baby. He found the stick (anywhere doesn't matter).

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍:

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

-> synopsis: what would armando be like if he found out you was pregnant?

-> theme: angst and fluff.

-> warnings: mention of abortion, mature language.

-> authors note: i’m currently posting this to keep you guys fulfilled while im working on some short stories. those take longer than these little headcanons so i apologise for the wait! hope you enjoy!! Let me know if you guys want a taglist as well.

[🕷️] 𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:

-> 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 that you was pregnant about a week ago when you kept throwing up in the morning and was more light headed than usual.

-> telling your friends about your symptoms one day at brunch caused them all to look at you with widened eyes, their faces being explicit with the same expression. Fear.

-> “bitch, you’re pregnant.”

-> “what is armando going to think about this?”

-> what is armando going to think about this.

-> she was right.

-> you guys have never even discussed having kids before, both still being fairly young as you were under the age of 25.

-> you only worked in a cake shop as you was still a student, trying to finish your college degree.

-> the weight of your friends opinions dawned on you as you slowly sipped the lemonade you bought, the icy temperature of the drink awakening your nerves.

-> “fuck.”

-> 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊 laid there on the marble countertop as both of your hands were rested by it side by side. Your hair hung down as you stared at it.

-> It was really true. You was pregnant.

-> The overwhelming thoughts clouded your mind, removing the ability for you to be happy about the idea of motherhood. Instead somber about this rude awakening. It wasn’t meant to happen now. Was it ever supposed to happen?

-> You and Armando never even spoke about the possibility of kids, just focusing on your free-spirited relationship as you both did whatever you pleased. Parties, meetings, the thrill of running from danger, running from law enforcement.

-> That was all going to change.

-> A wet feeling landed on your hand. Then another and another. It was teardrops. The transparent dots of water dropped onto your hand, staining them a little. Eventually an avalanche of tears would cascade down your face, causing you to uncontrollably sob as the obsessive thoughts became more and more out of control.

-> “Babe, ¿Estás aquí?”

-> Your eyes quickly widened as you heard a voice downstairs in the living room, the only man having that deep of a voice, your man. Armando. Quickly wiping your tears, you threw the stick into the bin next to the toilet, walking out of there as if nothing happened.

-> However, it was as if Armando sensed something was wrong. Not being a man of many words, he just simply raised his eyebrow at you, referencing for you to tell him what’s wrong. Yet, you just rolled your eyes and smiled. “Nothing is up.”

-> Still not satisfied he looked at you intensely, his face stoic as ever. Nevertheless, he left it alone and trusted you to tell him eventually. “Perdón por llegar tarde, estaba ocupado.”

-> You bring him into a hug, not caring about him being late. Just being happy he’s finally home. He wrapped his arms around you, engaging with the hug as his pointer finger tapped you gently on your back. That being a little thing he does, acknowledging how much he missed you.

-> 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃, you was passed out on the couch after watching a movie with Armando. Your empty takeout boxes being on the table.

-> Armando went upstairs to shower, allowing the water to cleanse not only his body but his mind too, the day for him being exhausting. He moved his hand to turn the water faucet off, his black hair being a wet mess, dripping slightly on his shoulders.

-> The male opened the shower door. Picking up the towel from the sink, he noticed something stand out from his peripheral vision. He moved his head slightly to turn towards the object that caught his attention, noticing a blue and white stick on top of the trash within the bin.

-> Peering down at it, he noticed it to be a pregnancy stick. “¿Qué es esto..?”

-> 𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐏, you notice Armando in front of you. Slamming the object down onto the table, he looked at you. Anger controlled every feature of his face as he stood there. Digusted.

-> “Espero que lo estés terminando.”

[🕷️] 𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆:

-> 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐖𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐘 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑. You slowly sat up, facing him as his eyes were struck with concern. Still adjusting to reality, you rubbed your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

-> There he gently placed the stick on the table. Not saying a word, just looking back at you, waiting for you to lead the conversation. “I was going to tell you.”

-> “It was in the trash.”

-> You couldn’t object to that, he was right. You wasn’t really going to tell him, hoping that it was all just a lie and that the stick wasn’t even real. Hoping it was one big dream.

-> Looking at him solemnly, you felt your eyes welling up with tears the second time that day. This time, he didn’t say anything but embraced you into a hug instead, kissing your forehead.

-> “Enfermo nunca te dejan.. i would never abandon you.”

-> Those words were the music to your ears. “Damn these pregnancy hormones are annoying.”

[🕷️] 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:

“¿Estás aquí?” : Are you here?

“Perdón por llegar tarde, estaba ocupado.” : Sorry for being late, i was busy.

“¿Qué es esto..?” : What is this?

“Espero que lo estés terminando.” : I hope you’re terminating it.

“Enfermo nunca te dejan..” : I’ll never leave you.

#jacob scipio #armando aretas #imagines #reactions #headcanon #armando lowry #badboys ride or die #armando armas #bad boys #headcannons #short story #stories #armando x female oc #armando x reader #armando lowery #scenarios #angst #fluff

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hrhmimieucliffe · 6 months ago

Text

⚠️🔞NSFW Ramblings🔞⚠️

When I tell you that this card literally made me feral, like I was not expecting this, my mouth literally just fell open. I love Zayne so bad. I love being a Zayne girlie. The way he's just sitting there, I mean phew, I would literally pounce on him and ride him crazy, going at it like we're rabbits.

Either that, or I'd just get on my knees and start going in. Like, I'm talking grapefruit technique levels of vacuuming his cock like a rabid animal. I don't know whether I'd want to be on top of him or beneath him, he's just so... mm.. Good lawhd. I would drain him of his essence. On a pool table too? I'll play with his balls real good. We can play pool with our bodies. BALLS IN THE HOLE?! YES PLEASE‼️‼️‼️

I can just imagine being on top of him on that pool table, making him moan like crazy with how slow you ride him, every roll of your hips, making him grip your hips and guide your movements with his big strong hands, trying not to be loud so that no one else hears your little teaching session.

If Zayne has a million fans, then I am one of them. If Zayne has ten fans, then I am one of them. If Zayne has only one fan, then that is me. If Zayne has no fans, then that means I am no longer on earth. If the world is against Zayne, then I am against the world.

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream, and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carrier, against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, on the back of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce, in the pool, in the garden, bent over, in the basement, against the window, having the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, era ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffing, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan introducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious, gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, vulcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell devolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, splendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening sex ‼️‼️

"Call me strawberry because I want all his seed all over me." - Me in like 2018 or something.

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not-neverland06 · 6 months ago

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How About A Nuke?

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII

Series Masterlist

The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: I see a lot of comments talking about how you guys wished they would just communicate. They are communicating its just that neither of them know what they want. Summary: All you want is to just be clean. He offers to show you a nice little spot where you can finally scrape the grime off of you. What could go wrong?

“So,” you shifted your bag further up your arm. You were favoring the left today on account of the giant gap he had left in your right bicep. You were still pretty pissed off about that. “Do you ever, you know, bathe?”

He looked over his shoulder at you, he seemed caught off guard by the question. “Bathe?” He repeated, face raised in surprise.

You rolled your eyes and nodded, “Yeah, bathe. I’ve been out here over a week. I’ve got about twenty layers of blood and sand stuck in every crevice.” Your skin crawled thinking about the different types of bodily fluid you’d been sprayed with since coming out of the cryo pod.

There was a lot of blood, of course, but Hollywood doesn’t show everything that gets excreted in death. You were itching for a good shower. You know that’s out of the question, but there’s got to be something.

He laughed and ripped off a piece of jerky. He offered you some, grinning when you shook your head. “Buckle up, sweetheart, you’re in for a rude awakening. You can always use the water, but that’s a waste of Radaway if you ask me.” You should have known. It’s not like anyone you’d encountered seemed particularly gung ho about personal hygiene, but you had hoped there would be something.

You reached down, digging your nails into your arm and scratching off flakes of blood and who knows what else. You shouldn’t have bothered, though, it only made the rest of you feel a hundred times worse. You looked crazy, scratching at yourself like a dog but you couldn’t help it.

“Alright, damn, I’ll give you some of my Radaway, you look half rabid.”

You stopped with your scratching and stared at him in shock. “You’ll give me some of your Radaway?”

He rolled his eyes, stopping only when he noticed you’d quit walking. “Is that not what I said?”

You crossed your arms and glared at him, “You’re not exactly known for your generosity. What’s the catch?”

He frowned and clutched at his chest like you’d actually done damage, “Now, that hurts darling. I’m just trying to help you out.” He turned around, walking to the right now, further towards greenery and away from the desert. “Plus, it’ll get rid of that fucking smell.”

You kept your mouth shut but he was one to talk. He hadn’t exactly tasted wonderful when he’d kissed you. Nor did he smell amazing. Still, he had made your heart race and it wasn’t from pure terror for once. Though, any positive feelings he’d caused within you had been negated the second he dropped you to the dirt like a used up toy.

You knew better than to try and bring it up to him, but it had stung. Attacked that vulnerable part of you that made you want to put up walls so high even the sun couldn’t get through.

With no other choice you sped up and caught up to him. Your hip was still bothering you, but it wasn’t dragging behind you as much as it was a few days ago. The only thing really bugging you now was your throbbing arm. He’d assured you that it couldn’t rot, he’d dealt with that, but that didn’t stop it from hurting like a bitch.

“Through here is a lake you can use.” He pointed towards the area where the trees started to thin out.

You looked at him skeptically, “You’re really letting me do this?”

He scoffed and glared at you, “The fuck did I tell you?” You don’t know if he’s talking about his new rule to stop questioning him or about giving you the Radaway, but you keep your mouth shut anyway. He hasn’t been as much of a dick today and you’d rather keep it that way.

“Here,” he motions through the trees and you stumble into an abandoned neighborhood. It’s been submerged in water, you can spot some old apartment buildings peeking up through the top.

Briefly, you wonder if you’ve ever passed your old home and just never realized it. You dismiss the thought as quickly as it comes, not willing to let your mind linger on thoughts like that today.

You slowly make your way to the water, still not entirely trusting of his intentions. He’s made it clear he’s keeping you around for the long haul, but that doesn’t mean he’s stopped tormenting you. “You’re really gonna let me use your Radaway?” You call over your shoulder.

He sighs and leans against the trunk of a tree. “Get your ass in the water, I won’t wait around all day.

You’re not dumb enough to fully submerge yourself in radiated water. You just rip a piece of your shirt off and dunk it into the startlingly blue lake. You use it to scrub yourself down, rubbing your arms until they’re raw and feel clean enough.

You shuffle closer to the water, trying to bend over enough to scrub your face a bit. But when you gaze down into the water you find something gazing back up at you. You scream, scrambling back just as that thing leaps out of the water and towards you.

Something pink and wet slams into your chest and knocks the air out of your lungs. You grope blindly in the mud for your gun as it opens its mouth. Horror and disgust fill you when you see what’s in its mouth, human fingers dangle like disgusting uvulas. It darts forward, jaw posed to clamp around your whole face.

A loud bang echoes through the lake. The thing goes flying back and causes ripples to drift across the surface of the water. You clutch your chest, trying to get your breath back and scoot closer to get a better look at whatever attacked you. It’s the size of your torso and looks startling like some deformed axolotl. He’s left a large bullet hole in the middle of it’s head deformed head.

“What the fuck?” You whisper, shakily getting to your feet and groaning when you realize whatever you’d manage to clean off had been replaced by a thick layer of mud.

You turn around, hoping for some sort of explanation from him, but he’s just bent over laughing, gun still smoking. You grab your bag out of the muck with a huff and glare at him. “Really?”

He straightens up, still grinning and shakes his head. “You should have seen your face, you were petrified.”

”Well, I’m glad someone enjoyed that.” You glare down at the corpse, eyes wide with horror, “It’s got fucking fingers in it’s throat. Human fingers!” He saunters over to you, entirely too pleased with himself. He grabs his inhaler out of his bag and loads it with Radaway. He tosses it over to you and you catch it with your good arm. “You knew that was going to happen, didn’t you?” You press down and take in a deep breath, ignoring how bitter the juice tastes.

“Never trust anything, rule number one of the Wastelands darling. Can’t even trust the water.” There was a loud roar off towards the middle of the lake and he nodded his head back towards the tree line. “Come on, that one was just a baby Gulper. Momma’s gonna be by soon and I can’t imagine she’ll be real happy.” He walks off without you and you’re stuck staring at the dead mutant.

“That was a fucking baby?” He laughs at you again and when you catch up with him, you can't help but laugh a little yourself. You probably looked ridiculous, wrestling in the mud with what, apparently, was only an infant.

He grins at you, “You got a lot to learn.”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, I know.”

He’s kneeled down beside you, fingers prodding at the reddened area around your wound. It feels a bit better now, more like touching a fresh bruise rather than raw nerves. He poured some water from his canteen over the area and retied the bandage. He stood up and moved away from you while you dug around in your bag for another ration bar.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You’ve got the bar positioned between your knees, and you’re trying, hopelessly, to open it up with one hand. Your fingers, now dusted with dried mud, slip uselessly against the packaging.

He looks up at you and lets out a loud sigh. “Give it here.”

”I’ve got it-”

“Give. It. Here.” You huff but toss the bar over to him. He rips it open in one smooth move and throws it back to you. You catch it with your good hand and take a large chunk out of it. It feels like rubber and tastes oddly like dried out meatloaf. You’re not exactly sure what flavor it’s supposed to be replicating, but you figure it’s so old it doesn’t really matter as long as it fills you up.

He pours some water from his canteen onto a ripped piece of cloth and tosses it at you. You’re unprepared, bar in hand and midchew, it slaps against your face and you scowl under the fabric. “Really?” You mutter, mouth half full. You yank it off your face and give him a questioning look.

“Just clean yourself up.”

You drag it across your face and arms, trying to get off as much residual mud as you can. Your clothes are a stained, lost cause, but this will do for now. Not like you’re going to get much better without going up against some mutant monster.

“You’re being nice today?” It comes out like a question more than anything. Probably because you’re having trouble trusting him, especially after the Gulper incident. You wished you could say you can’t believe he would do something like that, but you’re pretty sure he’d been hoping the mom would get you, not the baby.

He shrugged and leaned back against a fallen log. “Feelin’ chivalrous.”

You hummed but didn’t push. You forced down another lump of your ration and reached for your water. “Where are we heading anyway? Been walking for a long time but we haven’t seem to have gotten anywhere.”

“There’s a compound I took a bounty for. We’re on our way to deliver it.”

You tilted your head as far back as you could, tongue out and hoping to catch the remaining drops of your water. “Shit,” you tossed the canteen back in your bag, already knowing it was hopeless.

“Ah, hell,” you glanced up and saw Cooper rifling through his supply box.

“How are you on Radaway?”

He sighed and chucked the box back into his bag. “Got two vials left.” He ran his tongue along his teeth, a pensive expression on his face.

You sighed and rubbed idly at some mud left on your fingers. “You’re gonna need more soon.”

He cut you off with a sharp laugh. “Faster than soon, this is the diluted shit.” He rubbed at his chest and you wondered if he was already starting to feel the effects of being so low on the medicine. You can’t believe he gave you a vial of his own with so few left.

Bastard must’ve really wanted to see you get jumped by a gulper. Your face twisted up in distaste and any twinge of sympathy you’d felt for him dissapeared. You wished he would cough so hard he’d choke on his tongue, at least then you wouldn’t have to listen to his bullshit anymore.

He looked over at you and then your bag. “Got any of that purified water left?” You shook your head, crumpling the wrapper of your bar up and tossing it somewhere behind you,

“Just ran out, not sure where I’m gonna find more.”

He chuckled and stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “I do,” you stood up and grabbed your own bag, following behind him.

Loud laughter and rowdy conversation drifts into the night air. You sit perched behind a large boulder, staring into the building across from you. It’s an old supermarket, refurbished to fit the Wastelanders' needs. “They’ll have what we need?”

He doesn’t look at you, his sight is dead set on the men milling about in front of you. They’re clearly guards, switching positions every couple of minutes and loaded to the teeth with weapons. Cooper silently tracks them, eyes darting between them as they switch positions yet again.

“Yep,” he lifts up into a squat and watches as one of the men turns his back to lace up his boot. “Now!” He grabs you by the sleeve of your jacket and drags you along as he weaves between the guards. He throws you in front of him, practically tossing you inside the store.

You hold back your gasp of shock and duck behind a waist-high shelf. There are only seven or eight men walking around inside. They’ve got a fire burning in the middle of the store, the empty shelves pushed back against the walls. Behind them is about the largest pile of supplies you’ve seen since being up here. They could give Ma June a run for her money.

You peek your head over the shelf and try to get a look at just how many weapons they have. You hear the familiar sound of spurs walking behind you and twist immediately to see Cooper walking calmly towards the group with his hands raised in surrender. He catches your eye and winks before he fully addresses them.

“Gentlemen!” You sigh and sink back against the shelf, an irritated look on your face. The shelf screeched forward slightly and you scrambled off it, you caught Cooper twitch a little in irritation but he didn’t say anything. He’s been fully noticed at this point, the others all glaring at him with their guns raised.

He had a full view of all eight men from his perspective. What he couldn’t see, which you could, was a ninth man sneaking up behind him with a knife. He had it poised, aiming to strike right through the back of Cooper’s neck.

Without thinking too much on it, you leapt out of your hiding spot and used your good arm to point your gun in the man’s face. He came to a stop almost cartoonishly, eyes wide and the knife in his hands trembling when you popped out.

Cooper barely gave you a glance out of the side of his eye and you figured he knew all about the ninth man. He must have been testing you, see if you really had his back. “Hey!”

“Who the fuck is she!”

“What are you doing here?”

You ignored the sounds of their voices, you kept the gun trained on the boy and motioned him towards the left of the room. He followed, letting you guide him backwards until he was scrambling to hide behind his friends. It’s then that you finally got a good look at just how many guns were trained on you.

One of them pumped their shotgun and you pulled back the hammer of your gun. Cooper’s guns were still tucked away in their holster, it was just you and however much firepower they could cram between ten pairs of hands.

“Now, I suggest that you gentlemen put those guns down or my friend here is gonna get a little too friendly with her trigger.”

One of them scoffed, gesturing with the barrel of their pistol towards your right arm hanging limply by your side. “She got a bad arm and a shaking hand.”

“Maybe,” you call out, “but I got a working finger. I only need one of ‘em to kill you.”

Before he can respond there’s another one stepping forward. “She can get real friendly with me.” He’s got a lecherous grin on his face and a look in his eyes that makes your skin crawl. You sigh, sick of the men up here being so predictable, and turn your gun on him. His eyes widen, like he hadn’t seen you pointing it at his friends, and you pull the trigger.

Your aim is a little off and the recoil is harder to handle with only one hand available to you, but you’ve got a sawed off shotgun in your hand, don’t have to have a great aim to kill a man with that. His twitching body has barely hit the ground before you’re diving to the right and ducking behind a shelving unit.

Cooper goes to the left, eyes wide in the same astonishment as those men. Bullets started flying the second their friend was on the ground. They were shouting all sorts of insults and threats at you but it was hard to make out over all the shooting.

“You shot him!” Cooper shouted over the hail fire of bullets.

You rolled your eyes and did your best to reload the gun with your wobbly hand. “He pissed me off,” you shouted back at him. You leveled the gun over the top of the shelves and fired blindly. There was a loud yelp and then another Bitch shouted at you, so you must have hit something.

“You know, I was trying to handle this civilly,” Cooper jumped to his knees and turned around quickly. He fired off a quick succession of shots, four bodies dropped as he did. The rate of gunfire slowed a bit as more men fell. He ducked down and ran across the room, throwing himself down next to you. He tossed his guns at you and tugged yours out of your hand. “Reload me,” you nodded and tugged some bullets out of his bandolier while he used your gun to shoot at them.

“I’m sure you handling it civilly would have ended the exact same fucking way.”

He grinned and sat back next to you, “Well,” he shrugged, “maybe. Maybe not, doesn’t matter now.” You handed him his reloaded guns and he dropped yours in your lap. “Only a few left, use the shelves as cover and circle around behind ‘em.” He didn’t stay to make sure you understood his plan, he immediately set off, drawing the fire away from you and making a run for it.

“Shit,” you hissed, struggling to your feet and following his instructions. With only a few of them left it should have been quick work to get rid of the last few stragglers, but the guards from outside had heard the scuffle and were rushing in. Cooper shot most of them but one got close enough to snatch his gun from his hands and throw it to the floor.

Cooper struggled against the man, his towering form easily overpowering Cooper. Though, your friend didn’t seem particularly worried, if anything it looked like he was letting the man live to draw out the fight, like he was enjoying it.

You were going to just leave him to it when you saw the same bastard from before with the knife sneaking up behind him again. You rush forward, scooping up Cooper’s gun as you go and shove the man backwards.

He grunts at the impact but he refused to be deterred. He charges at you, eyes red with rage and blackened mouth frothing like a rabid dog. You try and keep your guard up but you’ve got a gimp leg and a useless arm, it’s not a fight you’re going to win.

He wraps an arm around your waist and yanks you into him. You grunt, breathing out slowly as you feel his knife slide into your gut. You glance down at the rusted blade and shove your gun under his chin. His eyes widen when you draw the hammer back but you don’t flinch when you pull the trigger, not even when chunks of skull and hair start raining down on you.

Cooper must have finally noticed the tussle happening behind him because he draws his second gun out from under his coat and ends his little fight with the last of them. You must be in shock, you still haven’t fully experienced the pain that you should.

There’s a knife sunk past the handle slammed into your gut, you should be feeling something shouldn’t you? You’re sure it’s the adrenaline still pumping through you. Your body is warm from how fast your blood is pumping, your ears ringing from all the gunshots and head spinning from the amount of blood steadily leaking out of the wound.

“Hey,” you turn around to face him and his eyes widen ever so slightly. You lose your footing and he darts forward, quick arms grab you and draw you into his chest. You clutch onto the sleeve of his jacket, letting all of your weight rest on him while you try and get your panicked breathing under control.

You’ve had worse injuries than this. As hard as it is to believe, in your time up here, you’ve survived a lot worse than some measly stab wound.

So why does this feel so fucking bad?

“Oh,” you moan in pain, nearly doubling over. A feeling like a million exposed nerves being set on fire stops you from falling to the floor, instead you push off Cooper and struggle to your feet.

“Alright, come on,” he grabs your arm again and you have the ridiculous urge to just shove him off you. Your head is swimming, you feel like you could float away. You look down at the knife again and finally realize just how large it is. One of those hunting ones that was about the width of your hand curled into a fist.

Well, fuck.

“Hey,” he snaps when you stumble away from him again. “Sit your stubborn ass down, you need help.” He yanks on the straps of your shirt, holding you up and dragging you to a chair, you don’t have much choice as he forces you to sit. Though, the motion causes a wave of excruciating pain to flare through you.

He kneels in front of you and rips your shirt open, you’re in too much pain to complain about it right now. He hums low in the back of his throat as he takes in the wound. With no warning whatsoever he grabs the knife by the handle and yanks it out like he’s ripping off a fucking bandaid.

You nearly scream, lurching forward and shoving him away from you. The sudden shock of pain has left you half blind and panting like an animal. “What the fuck was that?” You force out through gritted teeth. He plants a hand on your shoulder and presses you firmly against the back of the chair.

“Need to get you a Stimpak.” He takes your hand in his and presses it against the wound. Where blood was once oozing, it’s now gushing. You hadn’t realized just how much keeping the knife in had kept the blood at bay. With how rapidly it’s leaving you now you’re afraid.

You’re afraid that you might not be able to make it back from the edge with just a Stimpak. You can already feel your fingers going cold, pretty soon you won’t be able to flex them and then you’d lose feeling in your arms too.

“Hey,” he uses the grip he has on your hand to press down on the wound. You groan but he keeps the pressure steady. His eyes bore into your dazed ones, some odd expression in them. “You don’t get to give up. Keep pressure on this, understand me?” Your head flops forward in a lazy nod.

He could have been gone for a minute or an hour, you wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. Your head is foggy, coherent thoughts replaced by loopy ones. You’re struggling to remember where you are or what you’re supposed to be doing.

Just as your hand slips from the wound, he comes back. He grabs your hand and places it back, holding it there with his own. You appreciate the way he warms your fingers back up, but the rest of you is freezing too. Maybe he’d share his jacket.

The thought of him sharing anything makes you laugh and he gives you a frustrated look. “Don’t go losing it on me. Not yet at least.”

You lean forward, face nearly pressed against his and grin. “You know, I haven’t heard a thank you yet.”

He scoffed, opening the Stimpak with one hand and preparing the injector. “Yeah, for what?”

“Saving your life, dick.”

You’re caught off guard when he slams the needle into your stomach, your lips part with a silent gasp and you wince at the cool rush of medicine. He grins at you, “Well, thank you for being the only dumbass to get herself stabbed in a gun fight.”

The medicine works fast, you learned that from when he’d shot you. You can already start to feel the pulse of blood slowing and your head clearing up slightly. “Asshole,” you hiss, leaning away from him. But his eyes stay trained on you, on both of your blood covered hands and where they still rest, linked together, on your stomach.

You find yourself taking advantage of his distraction to really look at him. It bothers you, how after everything, his eyes are still so pretty. It’s the first thing that drew your attention when you were younger. Those eyes of his had you swooning from the first time you saw him on the big screen.

He catches you but you can’t find it in yourself to care. There’s something odd in the air, a lingering tension from the kiss you’d never discussed. From the silent partnership you’d never voiced. You’d nearly gotten yourself killed for him tonight, the thought finally seemed to be dawning on him.

His eyes drop to your lips and he leans in. He doesn’t get very far, lips just barely brushing yours before you’re jerking back in surprise. You’re bleeding out in his hands and he kisses you? Your hand is up and cracking across his cheek before you can think about it.

His head whips to the side with a satisfying crack. He lets out a breathy chuckle, using his free hand to soothe the area you’d hit. He stretches the tension out of his jaw and shakes his head before he looks at you again.

Maybe he shouldn’t have kissed you. You definitely shouldn’t be further entertaining his ideas that he holds any sort of possession for you, but you’d just realized what that look in his eyes had been earlier. He had been worried about you.

Cooper has always been the one who protected you. Not the other way around. And as twisted as he’d become, it still relatively remained the same dynamic today. You’d caught him off guard earlier, putting yourself in danger like that for him. And he had been worried about you.

You grab him by the collar of his jacket and drag him forward before he can decide what to do with the fact that you slapped him. Your lips meet again and he hovers over you on your chair. The hand on your stomach pushes harder against you, deepening the pressure and making you groan into his mouth.

He doesn’t waste time, deepening the kiss and letting his other bloodied hand drift into your hair. His fingers curl around the strands and he yanks your neck back, manipulating you how he wants and bending you to his desires. You melt into it, into the complete control you allow him to momentarily wield over you.

You let your mind go blank and just focus on him. You can pretend, for now, that you’re in his old house. You’re coming back after a date at one of those fancy restaurants that he hates, but he takes you there anyway so you can have an excuse to dress up.

He’ll whisper I love you and drag you to the couch. You’ll start there, his kisses traveling lower until he’s dragging you back to his bedroom. You’ll feel valued, cherished, loved. Cooper will take care of you.

He parts slowly from you, still keeping a firm grip on your hair. It takes a moment for your eyes to flutter open again. You’re sure you look like a mess, staring up at him with glossy eyes and swollen lips, completely drenched in your own blood.

“Don’t think about him when I’m the one kissing you, darling.” Your eyes widen and he lets you go. He shoves back from you and paces towards his bag. Any warmth in his eyes, any care, was gone.

You want to say something to drag him back but the moment has passed. It’s not like he was wrong, you were pretending he was someone completely different to make yourself feel better.

But you couldn’t make yourself feel guilty when you remembered half the reason you needed the comfort was because of who he was now. He comes back with a needle and thread. He lets the needle hover over the men’s fire for a moment before he approaches you with it. “Stimpak will only do so much, need to sew you up.”

You nodded and looked away as he knelt down and pressed the needle into your skin. You barely felt it, could barely pay attention to him when your thoughts were on what it was like before. What he was like before. Sometimes it makes you sick to your stomach to look at him.

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout x reader #fallout tv series

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