#it looks empty but it’s okay for a first attempt. practice makes perfect after all

[kiko-klept]

Sleepover at Rouge and Shadow’s new house <3

This one took me few days (mostly because of procrastination). July 2-5th

[mv1simp]

I have heard your prayers dark!max simps, rejoice now and go forth in peace 🙏

What You Need ♥️

Max Verstappen x Friend’s Girlfriend!Reader

I got everything you want with me, I do everything he does times three. he’s what you want, what you want (I’m what you need)

You've just started dating Daniel and find yourself spending a lot of time with his old team mate, Max Verstappen - who's dark gaze and wandering hands always seem to be on you. It's okay though, Max cares for Daniel as a friend and by extension you too, right? You have no idea Max had already decided long ago you were the perfect girl...just not for Daniel, but for him instead.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, innocent virgin! reader, manipulative dark!max, size kink, cheating, very dubcon, somnophilia, drunk!reader, Daniel is a bad bf for plot, 4k WC

Max Verstappen stares at you across the crowded room, the dozens of drunk and dancing people at the house party he was at doing nothing to distract him. You’re giggling prettily at something a friend had said, lifting an almost empty wine bottle to your pink glossed lips and not noticing the heated gaze of the 3 time F1 world champion. As always. He tilts his head, a lion eyeing a baby deer, studying your profile and ignoring the attempts at conversation people make to him.

You’re a mystery to someone like Max - a guy who always has whatever he wanted. He drove the fastest cars in the world, fucked the hottest models, and lived in a penthouse in a city with the most expensive real estate. Everything he desired was at his fingertips - except you, Daniel's Riccardio's newest girl. He had no idea how his former team mate had found you amongst all the trashy influencers and plastic models in Monaco. You’d recently started coming to the paddock, quietly cheering on Daniel in his RB garage several spots down from Max's own first place spot - and that was where Max met you the first time. You were a natural beauty, so sweet and innocent, easily got along with the others on the grid, and were smart, too - studying to be a doctor. And to top it all of you didn't seem to even care that Max was Max Verstappen, world champion - which only intrigued him more.

The first time you talked was when his car had skidded out badly on the RedBull practice track, leaving a nasty cut on his forearm that you had patiently sutured and bandaged, sweetly explaining how to look after his wound with a concerned expression. You really were the perfect girl, and Max had decided right there and then that he had to have you for himself. You were wasted on Daniel - and besides, you two had barely started seeing each other a few weeks ago, just “casually” the Australian has said. Daniel was an idiot for not making it official with you. Ah well, all the more easier for Max to claim you instead.

But you never seemed to have eyes for anyone but Daniel, which perplexed the Dutchman to no end. Max was the one in first place, in the top team that every driver dreamed about, the richest and fastest one on the grid - while Daniel drove as a second rate RB driver, a shadow in the glory of its primary Red Bull team. Yet you'd be beaming at Daniel excitedly as he finished P12, while only shyly saying a brief congratulations to Max in P1 at the afterparty. Max was never one for losing, though - he just needed time to get you to give in and accept everything he could offer you. There was no way you would be happy with a 2nd rate driver - no, he knew what a diamond like you really wanted was someone like him. And it had been easy enough to be around you more and more under the guise of hanging out with Daniel.

Like that time he'd invited you both to his yacht for New Years'. He'd seen your eyes light up in awe at the luxurious vessel, and later than evening when everyone had gone to bed but you were still out admiring the stars, he easily came upto you, large hand grazing your back, standing a lot closer than one might to a girl his mate was dating.

He'd casually pulled a diamond choker out from his pocket and held it out to you on a thick finger. Your eyes had gotten wide at the beautiful gift - big, crystal clear jewels with a dangling pearl "M" in the centre. To say thank you for fixing my cut, he explained. And the M for your last name, right? You had blushed and stuttered uncomfortably at the romantic gift, refusing to accept it - Max, is this Cartier? Oh my god, how expensive was this?

Max joked that his hands were a multimillion asset and you deserved a fitting gift for saving them. Besides, it's rare in my line of work to meet someone so genuine who actually cares for me. You'll take it, right? Since we're friends now? You'd felt guilty at his pouting expression, hesitating but having no choice but to say yes - it was just a friendly thank you, after all, right? He stepped behind you to put it on, his lips brushing your ear as he bends down to your petite height. He doesn't miss the way you shiver at his touch and smirks as he traces a large palm along your neck before bringing the clasp together. Wow, Max, it's truly so beautiful, thank you, you breathe, entranced as you look at the jewels - Daniel was so lucky to have such a caring friend! You completely miss how Max gazes down your cute summery off-shoulder dress, his height behind you giving him the perfect view of your delicious tits - where a pearl M now dangles just above them. He feels a delicious satisfaction at the sight of you in his necklace, on his yacht, and within his arms. Yeah, it's beautiful, he agrees, smiling with just a touch of darkness. Looks great on you. You smile back innocently, not realising the M around your neck didn’t stand for your last name but rather for the M in Max.

Another time, you and Daniel had joined Max's extended group for a weekend retreat to St Tropez. Max hadn't seen you in a while, since you had been busy sitting final exams. But the wait had been worth it when he saw you in your cute little baby pink bikini and gold waist chain. And it had only gotten better when he found you later, dozing alone on a sunbed in the Spanish heat, your idiotic boyfriend nowhere in sight and leaving you unprotected to Max's predatory advances. You blinked your eyes open sleepily as Max set down a chilled G&T at your side. You thank him sweetly, too lazy to sit up properly and just lean over to suck up the refreshing drink from the straw, giving Max an enjoyable teaser of what you might look like sucking something else of his. Sorry I haven't been much fun, you say apologetically, especially after you've been so nice to invite me. I'm still catching up on sleep from my exams.

Max assures you not to worry about anything, telling you to nap to your hearts' content, making you giggle cutely. You look around, trying but failing to see Daniel and pout cutely when he's nowhere to be found. He'd promised to put sunscreen on my back, you explain, slumping back onto the comfy cushion with a yawn. I'm really sorry to bother you, Max, would you mind? I don't want to burn-

Max snatches up the golden opportunity, Don't worry, schat, he reassures, and you tiredly file a mental note to google that word later. I'll take good care of you. You smile at him gratefully, closing your eyes as he slowly rubs across your tantalizing caramel skin with his large, rough palms. You never notice how his steely blue eyes greedily roam up and down your body, but you do gasp in surprise when he slowly undoes one of your bikini strings, turning to look back at him - just have to get under them to apply it properly, sorry, you're a little burnt here, Max’s apology sounds so sincere that you say Oh, of course, turning back around and feeling silly for getting worried. So you don't question him further when he undoes the other set of strings on your bikini top, your back now completely exposed for him, and his warm palms feel sooo good against your aching muscles that you accidentally let out a moan. This time you hastily apologize but Max chuckles, saying your shoulders carried the tension of a hostile terrorist-hostage situation. He offers to give you a hand with a deep muscle relaxation massage he uses.

You hesitate, not sure if this is pushing the boundaries of what's okay, but when Max says that he does this for Daniel all the time, you relax, surely Daniel wouldn't mind then, right? It's all too easy to fall back into a light sleep as Max continues to rub the stress out of your sensitive little body, his hands so much larger and stronger than your boyfriends’ that it makes you feel reallyyy good in places you didn’t know you could be. You're too content to care when Max's touches drift down your sides, grazing against the full swell of your tits, or when he goes lower, and lower, and your bikini bottoms are now undone and he's squeezing across your juicy ass, making you moan sweetly while half asleep. You're completely soft and relaxed underneath him, forgetting that your own boyfriend hasn't yet touched you in the intimate places Max now had. If you had looked back you would have seen Max lazily stroking his erect, big cock as he stood over you, taking some pictures for later as he spreads your pliant chubby thighs and zooms in on the wet slick that had started to gather in between your legs and drip down then. Smirking to himself with the proof that your body was so affected by him, he jerks himself off with rapid pumps, breathing heavily as he shoots a large load of hot, white streaks all over your tan ass. You hmmm at the feeling, jiggling your hips, but don’t bother fully awaking to investigate as Max huskily leans down and whispers in your ear that you just needed a bit more cream there, sweetheart.

You nod, settling back into a comfortable sleep as Max rubs his cum all over your ass territorially, smirking darkly at how innocent you were. By the time Daniel returns to your side, he finds you still snoozing peacefully, your bikini tied back up in perfect little bows and Max long gone.

As the days went on you found yourself more and more in the company of Max, and you couldn’t deny the flutter you felt sometimes now when you looked at the older Dutch man. He was so handsome, so generous, and so considerate of you - so much more than Daniel was - and you felt immensely guilty at the disloyal thoughts that would spring up. Especially since Max was just being a good friend to you but you were starting to develop all sorts of inappropriate feelings. One training weekend you decided to be a good girlfriend and took a freshly packed homemade lunch down to the Redbull track to energize your boyfriend.

Max caught sight of you first, and easily fed Daniel some bullshit about the RB social manager needing him to review an insta post - just on the other side of the track. By the time you walked into the garage it was just Max, who told you that Daniel had gone out for lunch, actually, one of his friends was in town. That French model, I think? Oh! Yep, the one who was in Vogue last month.

He didn’t miss the flicker of uneasiness that spread onto your face as you were informed your boyfriend was out on a lunch date with a model. Oh, you say, feeling insecure and stupid that you’d come all the way here - but Max easily wraps a strong, comforting arm around your shoulders and reassures you, insisting that you join him for lunch instead and surely come for a ride, yeah?

He completely takes your mind off your worries by speeding you around in his racecar on a hot lap, and you’re screaming in pure excitement and delight, one hand automatically grabbing his large thigh. He’s so much faster and smoother than Daniel, and you bite your lip as you watch him sexily manoeuvre through tight corners. Afterwards, your stomach is all queasy from the speed and he laughs and helps you out of the car, and you end up having a picnic by the waterfront with your homemade grilled sandwiches and slices of lemon cake. God, this is so good, Max moans as he scoffs down a second slice. You’ve completely ruined my diet. Daniel’s so stupid to miss out on a lunch like this. If you were my girlfriend, I’d never spend a meal away.

You blush at his words, feeling flattered but also a little on edge - it was a bit strange of Max to wonder what it would be like dating you when you’re dating his friend, right? You pick at the grass, suddenly avoiding his gaze and feeling guilty again. Max notices immediately, eyes narrowing, but changes the topic to ask about how your studies were going to which you respond enthusiastically. Afterwards, you thank Max for being such a caring friend and knowing just how to cheer you up. You miss how his jaw clenches at the word "friend", because he would much rather be known as your boyfriend - or preferably, husband.

Later, for good measure, because he never did things half heartedly, he asks his good friend - the French model on the Vogue cover last month - to swing by the RB station and greet Daniel, his mate who’s a big fan and would love to meet her. Conveniently, the paparazzi just happen to capture the moment when she kisses his cheek, and within hours the photos have blown up about Daniel's latest fling and you’re being sent it by all your friends. It leads to a huge fight between you and Daniel, making you storm off only to end up calling Max, crying and apologising but asking if he would pick you up. He’s all too eager, arriving within minutes in his sleek Aston Martin, all comforting and warm as you sob into his secure chest and he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. But despite it all you still shakily smile and thank him, saying you should head back and work it out with Daniel. You were just too sweet and loving for your own good. Max needed to step up his game plan - if it wasn't money, status or his charm, how would he sway you into his arms?

The final piece of the puzzle came together at the Barcelona Grand Prix. The Redbull and RB drivers all happened to be sharing a hotel that weekend, and as Max is walking back to his room one night he hears moaning coming from Daniel’s room - the one that he knows you’re sharing with him. Being the perv he is, Max doesn’t hesitate to crack open the shared ensuite door and see his naked ex-teammate rutting up against your plump ass, sliding his small dick back and forth between your asscheeks as you lay on your stomach - fully clothed in a shorts pajamas set, looking almost bored. Confused, Max tries to figure out what the fuck you’re doing - only to get his answer when Daniel pathetically whines please, honey, please can I take these off, I want to be inside you-

No! You snap at him, turning to face him with a glare. I told you, I’m saving my virginity for marriage. Stop asking me. This is all you get.

Oh, shit. You were a fucking virgin? Max’s jaw is practically on the floor and it takes him a few minutes to collect himself before he quietly closes the door and leaves to ponder on this new information. You really were the perfect girl for him. He was going to claim you in every sense of the word - until no one had any doubt about who you belonged to. He smirked, already hatching up a diabolical plan.

And that was how Max now found his gaze fixed at you, barely a week later, at this house party where you’d clearly had too much to drink. Swiping his phone out his pocket, he shoots a text to his very helpful friend the Vogue model again - this time asking her to help out a certain Australian driver who was quite sexually frustrated at the moment. Having sorted out the issue of your boyfriend for the time being, Max strides over to you, who’s now all alone in the kitchen messily trying to pour another drink. You’re dressed in the cutest little pleated miniskirt, stumbling on matching kitten heels, and Max feels all the blood rush to his cock as he sees you’re wearing the diamond choker he gifted you.

You haven’t seen him yet so he comes up behind you, guiding your hands to pour the drink smoothly. You giggle, assuming your boyfriend has arrived, and rub your ass against his crotch. Daniel! You exclaim happily, turning around and burying yourself in the Redbull hoodie he wore. Mmmh, baby, you’re here! You love when he wears this hoodie, because sometimes you like to cuddle it and wonder - just for a few seconds! - if it was Max's arms around you instead. Not that you'd ever admit these illicit thoughts to either party.

Meanwhile, Max’s eye twitches at the insult of being called the name of his supbar ex-teammate, but then you’re rubbing your pink nails all over his shoulders and back and pressing your soft, curvy body against his much larger frame and drunkly whispering have you been working out? You’re sooo much bigger and musclier than I remember you being, it’s super hot!

Max can’t help chucking at your cute antics, telling you let’s go somewhere more quiet, baby. Grabbing your drinks, he easily tosses you over his shoulder and exits out the back door to avoid your friends, slapping your ass for good measure as your miniskirt rises up, making you yelp in excitement. He definitely must have been working out because you can't ever remember when he has lifted you so easily before! He leads you into the dark and empty pool house, well and truly away from any prying eyes.

Throwing you onto the plush sofa, he purposely leaves the lights off as you squint up to see his dark, tall silhouette. You whine for him to come closer, asking where did the music gooo and after connecting to the speakers he drops down next to you. You climb eagerly onto his lap, excitedly yapping about how much you love this Redbull hoodie. His large hands automatically come up to rest on your ass, thick fingers sliding underneath your miniskirt and pulling your thong to the side as he begins teasing your slit. You instinctively grind against his leg, pushing back against his fingers, cause wow, baby, when did you get so good at this? You meet his eyes finally when you lean in to kiss him and you squeal in surprise as you realise just who you’re desperately humping. Mmmh-Max?!? Ohmygod what are you doing here-

Max is immediately annoyed that you seem to have come to your senses, but as you begin to pull away, he hatches a new plan. I just came to tell you the bad news myself, schat, he says earnestly. You’re confused at what he means but he pulls up his messages and shows you a video (his friend works very fast, after all) that has you recoiling in disgust. But Max makes sure that you see every second of it - of the French model filming Daniel’s pathetic scrunched up face as she rides him into oblivion, him moaning please can I come, mommy?

Max has to resist his snort. Fucking pathetic. You could do so much better - with him. Sorry you had to hear it like this, Max lies through his teeth, not sorry one bit, I just wanted you to hear it from me and not the news outlet. But you just climbed on top of me and began doing all this and I couldn’t stop it-

His guilt trip works perfectly and you’re back to bouncing in his lap, teary eyes, saying I’m so sorry Maxie, that’s all my fault, I thought you were Daniel but I guess we’re broken up now, can I make it up to you? What can I do?

Bingo. Tilting his head, Max smirks darkly at you. Can you just use your lips to drain some of the stress, baby? It got all tense cause of your grinding. You widen your brown doe eyes, confused but he just guides you down with a strong hand to sit on your plump ass in between his legs. My lips? You say breathlessly, and Max nods, guiding your head to his crotch as you immediately start sucking on his straining bulge. Like-like this Maxie? You ask innocently, voice muffled. Not quite, Max strains through gritted teeth. Unzipping himself, he guides his thick length out against to rest against your face with a thwack. Your eyes go wide at the size. Maxie is much, much bigger than your boyfriend.

Ex, the world champion corrects, as you accidentally say it out loud. He’s just an ex now. Now, you going to be a good girl and clean up the mess you made?

You nod obediently and sloppily take him into your mouth, choking and gagging as you go. Max moans blissfully as he finally has you, angling his flash onto your face - just to help you see what you’re doing, he lies sweetly - whilst recording the filthy blowjob he’s tricked you into performing. You moan around his length, Max is always so thoughtful towards you! You’re determined to clear up any ounce of tension your earlier actions had caused him - not noticing that his cock is only getting harder as you coat with it your saliva and lip gloss.

Swearing at your eager mouth and nearly finishing early, Max sadly has to put an end to this as he has other plans in store. He manhandles you again, this time carrying you in his arms up the stairs and tossing you onto the bed. Before you can orient yourself he’s yanked his clothes off and climbed on top of you, asking you to open your mouth wide so he can check you’ve drained him properly. You do so dumbly, and Max messily spits before shoving his thick tongue down your throat as you start moaning again. Mmh, don’t think you got it all, sweetheart. Max says disapprovingly. Plus, you made me all messy with your lipgloss. How am I going to go back to the party like this, huh?

You go teary eyed again at the demanding tone, anxious you’d made Max mad. You beg to suck him off again, promising you’d lick up all the mess this time, but he sighs, running his hands through his hair and saying not enough, think I need to relieve it a different way. You nod eagerly, whatever you need Maxie, but squeal in suprise when he grabs your ankles and lifts your legs up over his shoulder, flipping your skirt up and ripping your panties in half to expose your dripping pussy. Maxie- Ohmygod, what are you doing, is this really- you’re babbling frantically, hearing a voice at the back of your mind tell you Max was taking this too far.

Max cooes words of reassurance at you, Shhh schat, this is the only way to feel better, okay? You’ll help me out, right? After I helped you?

You hesitate but give in, unable to resist your growing desire for the handsome driver. He grins cockily at you, leaning down and lapping at your intimate parts with his skilled tongue, saying he just needed to make sure you were all relaxed first before he started. You feel bad that you’re enjoying it this much, since Max has to do all the work himself, but it feels soo good, and you moan Max’s name over and over as he starts sliding his fat aching cock in between your slick folds.

Almost there, baby, he hisses, sweat running down his back as he yanks your crop top off, leaving you in the sparkly choker with his initial across your heaving tits. He turns the camera back onto your blissed out face again, wanting to capture the expression on your face when he enters you for the first time. You smile back adoringly with your doe eyes, unaware of just how long of a night he had in store for you or how many times you would come apart on his cock, your precious virginity now all his.

And the next morning when you’d arrive on the paddock, meekly walking past the RB garage and straight into Max’s Redbull motor home, he would reply to Daniel’s confused texts with a picture of his hand across your bejeweled throat, hickeys littering your tits, so that there would be no more questions about what you were doing at Max’s side. Just how you were always meant to be ❤️‍🔥

—————————————————————————

A/N: GUYS I need to write some fluff after this I feel like I’ve objectified this poor man with like 7 straight smut stories in a row omllll

[pia-nor481]

Long night, Hard ride

Oscar Piastri x reader smut

1.3k words (sorry it’s so short I struggled with the actual smut)

It was made very clear from their first interaction that Oscar didn't particularly like social events; work social events were no exception. As much as he enjoyed working with, and for, Mclaren, he didn't like any of the launches or parties. This party did not evolve the car and so Oscar was especially angsty, his whole body felt heavy, and it was starting to get difficult to keep proper posture. "You will be okay." She said, trying to comfort him, running her hand over his bicep clad in the black blazer. His eyes were slowly begging to fall, "I know, it's just too much and I'm so tired." Oscar liked to sleep in as much as he could, but the training combined with the early morning to prepare for with event didn't help. The divers were there to secure sponsors for next season, Lando was capable of speaking with sponsors for hours, he was so full of energy that it came easy to him. But Oscar struggled and so was hiding in a corner with his girlfriend. "It will be over soon, at least we have some peace for now." She looked around quickly before pecking his cheek; he smiled wide as she rubbed the lipstick off of his face. "Do you think we could sneak out?" Their drinks have long been empty and Oscar was leaning against the wall for a few minutes now. "I think Zak might give away your seat." She giggled 

"I think we can get away with it." He whispered, wrapping his arm around her waist, guiding her towards the door. They practically hugged the wall trying to avoid human contact. She had to hold him up  as they walked down the stairs towards the car. She held her hand out for the car key, not letting him drive in such a condition and ever the gentlemen, he still opened the door for her. The drive home was long, Oscar definitely fell asleep a few time, but the roads were rather deserted at this late hour, his hand remained firm on her thigh as she continued to hold the wheel. "We are almost home, ten more minutes." She whispered, his only response was a quiet hum. Oscar could stay awake now, but he didn't have the energy for much more; Completely lethargic, he stumbled out of the car and in through the front door. 

"Come on." She said, dragging him up the stairs towards their shared bedroom; It was still very much a mess from the morning, Oscar was in a complete rush after waking up for the third time, she helped him get ready, not that it would have taken him very long on his own. He took a brief moment to stare, the dress was beautiful, and it fit her so well, Oscar would say it made her look perfect, more than usual. But that was all he could think as she pushed him out the door. It was not often that they were late, a skill Oscar must have perfected in his early years. She looked at him with an almost smug look, handing him the car keys. "I know I drive for a living, but surely you drive fine." His statement fell upon deaf ears. Oscar did not expect his words to change her decision, so he proceeded to the driver's side, with a quiet whine. 

Even now, quiet huffs left his mouth, making a poor attempt to walk up the stairs. She knew he was tired, yet she couldn't help the feeling of desire. Seeing Oscar in a suit really did get her going, even just the sight of him could do the same, but tonight in particular, she just couldn't stop the arousal from coursing through her body. Oscar reached the bathroom rather swiftly and slowly began to remove his clothes, struggling with the buttons. "Please, Love, I need help." She giggled, walking closer, seeing the dishevelled man pouting. Selfishly, she undid each button as slow as possible, staring at him with a sultry look. Oscar noticed, but chose not to say anything. If he was honest, Oscar would say he preferred morning sex, a sure way to wake him up, and have a good start to the day. He also understood that waiting wouldn't be wise.  

She turned slowly, as Oscar motioned for her to, wanting to help unzip her dress. He did so as fast as possible with the little energy he had. He was shocked at the sight before him; the matching set before him framed her perfectly. He felt a rush of blood flow through his body, warming him up slowly, with a lightly blush painting his skin. She turned back around slowly, meeting his lust filled gaze. Already feeling fuzzy, Oscar grabbed her hips softly to pull her closer, desperate for close contact. He didn't say a word as she began to kiss his neck slowly as he wanted her to feel good, blissful even. Yet she was nervous, curious as to how this would work; Oscar didn't have the energy to fuck her the way she desired, the way she deserved, but that wouldn't stop him. 

His hand found a home on the small of her back as he guided her back towards the bed. "As much as I want to, I can't fuck you tonight." Oscar whispered, laying down on his side of the bed with a loud sigh. She pouted at his remark as he smirked, closing his eyes. "Come here." There was a moment of silenced accompanied by hesitation, it took a while for her to register that she actually had to move towards him. He smiled up at her as she rested on the bed beside him,  he was giddy despite the late hour, perhaps becoming slightly delirious. Oscar head the quiet pads of her feet against the floor and smiled, he got truly excited when he felt the bed dip slightly. "Be good...And straddle me." She was originally sat there peacefully, knees together, waiting for an instruction, so she was keen when she heard Oscar's voice. 

With her knees around Oscar's hip, she smiled, endorphins running through her body. "No, no, Baby, I need one of your legs to be between mine." His voice had dropped an octave and likely some volume, not quite a whisper. She was confused to begin with, expecting to ride him. "Straddle my thigh, that's it." She listened carefully to every word, focusing on every syllable. She pushed her cunt against his thick thigh, enjoying the pressure. Oscar's hands quickly, made way to her hips, grasping lightly. "Now, I need you to slowly rock your hips for me." She did so in awe, moving slowly, feeling pressure build up in her lower abdomen. Rocking back and forth was easy, getting the right pressure and speed was difficult; She placed a hand on his chest, needing support.  "That's it, Good girl." Oscar's grip harshened, he pushed and pulled on her hips, helping her grind faster and harder, heightening her pleasure. "Please, Oscar, need you." Her mind was too full, all full of Oscar and how he feels. 

His thigh was covered in her, soaked in her wetness. Her whines quickly became moans as he edged her on, sucking lightly at her neck. Oscar could feel her cunt twitching with every movement. "So good for me, cum, cum for me Love." Her eyes were closed as her head dropped back, Oscar smiled at her legs shaking, struggling to keep her body up right. She collapsed on his chest, seeing stars while giving raged breaths. Oscar's hands began to draw shapes onto her skin as he hugged her close, pulling the blanket over their bodies he spoke, "I'm wide awake now" 

[brittle-doughie]

Attempt #4. THE INBOX DIMENSION WILL NOT HOLD ME-

I was playing some Noita and remembered that dungeons (The video gamey kind) canonically exist in CRK. Say Y/N Cookie is a student of Parfaedia Academy, they really like trying to make their own spells. Y/N Cookie is very creative, perhaps a bit too creative for their own good. Y/N Cookie's spells vary in quality across a wide margin with some just straight up backfiring in their face. After some very memorable and very spectacular accidents Y/N Cookie receives a brief suspension. Does this deter Y/N Cookie from continuing spellcraft? No! They look back on the events of the Triple Cone Cup. For the third event the champions journeyed through a dungeon labyrinth, surely more of its kind must exist right? Y/N Cookie does some exploring and finds another mysterious labyrinth, perfect for testing out new spells! So Y/N Cookie starts dungeon delving into this new labyrinth of mysteries to use the spells they've concocted against what might dwell below. Of course, Y/N Cookie being Y/N Cookie, their fellow parfaedians eventually discover both their whereabouts as wells as what they've been up to. How would Y/N Cookie's fellow Parfaedians react to finding them dungeon delving all alone, with these new spells of theirs, no matter how hurt they might be? (Sorry if you've actually been getting these)

Wayward Soul (Parfaedia Cookies)

I have been getting these, plz-

You knew it was only a matter of time. That they’d get suspicious of how you were all too eager to carry out your suspicion. It took a little tracking magic to find out where you’ve been going…

Almond Cookie is first on the scene to stop you on your use of unsorted and odd magic here. Don’t you know how dangerous it is to handle this kind of magic, even in a closed and empty environment like this? He’ll ask you to lower your staff, he really doesn’t want to have to use force on you.

Latte Cookie is soft, yet still stern with her speech towards you. First, she makes sure you’re okay and you have no injuries on you. Next, she gives you a talking to about using these vast amount of spells without supervision. She was more worried about you being hurt than breaking the rules.

Seriously? Your professor, Espresso Cookie, reminded you on why you were given your suspension and it was for things like this. He can admire your energy to make all sorts of spells with your imagination, but the spells catalogued in your book should he the preferred ones, undocumented spells are too risky to practice.

The three ask you to follow them back to the academy grounds. They’ll talk more back in the classroom where they’ll decide on how they’ll reprimand you.

You clutch your staff, your grip shaking a little.

You didn’t regret practicing your magic like this, but boy were the incoming consequences not sounding good either…

[mountainficss]

!! mentions of: age difference, unprotected sex, drinking,

i had a request for a dilf!seungcheol a while back ;) for @lalalalavv

dilf!seungcheol who you’d meet in a bar one night after a long day of work. he’d be sitting alone at the bar, his tie loosened and his hair slightly tousled from a tough shift. you’d find him so handsome, and would have no troubles slinking into the barstool next to him. he’d notice your presence and glance over, looking you up and down slowly. you’d introduce yourself and he’d smirk, taking a sip of his drink as you shamelessly check him out. he’d take in your cute work outfit, listening to your sweet voice as you ask him for his name. “it’s seungcheol,” he’d smile, swirling the ice around in his drink. his sleeves were pulled up to his elbows, the sight of his exposed forearms making you lightheaded. “well, seungcheol,” you’d purr, “feel like taking me home tonight?” he’d let out an amused exhale, looking down at his empty glass and tracing the rim absentmindedly with his finger. “i’m too old for you,” he’d reply simply, a sad smile adorning his perfect face. you’d shoot him a glare, grabbing his tie and yanking it towards you. you’d force him to look at you, narrowing your eyes suspiciously. “i wouldn’t give a shit if you were a grandpa, seungcheol.” you’d huff, rolling your eyes at him. “what’s the matter? do you fuck like one too or something?” you’d banter, trying your hardest to get him to give in. he wouldn’t reply, he’d just laugh and wonder how he stumbled across someone so unique.

dilf!seungcheol who would take you back to his place, one hand on your thigh the entire drive there. his thumb would rub circles across your clothed skin, and even such a minimal touch would send jolts of electricity through you. he’d lead you into his apartment building, taking you all the way up to the penthouse level. not even seconds after you enter would you both practically pounce on each other, both stumbling around as seungcheol does his best to lead you to his bedroom between kisses. you’d both flop down onto his bed in a frenzy, a tangle of limbs and lips pressing against each other. you’d rip off each other’s clothes swiftly, and seungcheol would have you underneath him in a matter of seconds. you’d both gasp as he first slides into your heat, the feeling of pleasure almost overwhelming. he’d bottom out, pulling out almost completely and slowly thrusting back in. he’d take his time with you, sensually rutting into you as you wrap your legs around him. his pace would quicken, drawing loud moans from the both of you. the alcohol in your system would make everything more sensitive, feeling your high approaching quickly. it wouldn’t take long before you were tightening around him, cumming around his cock and tipping him over the edge at the same time. your twitching hole would make his orgasm last longer, practically milking him dry as his strong thrusts slowed to shallow ones. he’d pull out carefully and flop down beside you, listening to the sound of your labored breathing and watching your chest rise and fall with every breath. he’d study your flushed cheeks, but would be snapped out of his daze once he sees you sitting up and rolling off the bed. “i’d better not overstay my welcome,” you’d muse, shooting him a timid smile as you attempt to collect your scattered clothes from the floor. “you definitely don’t fuck like a grandpa, seungcheol.” you’d joke, looking over your shoulder at him and laughing to yourself. seungcheol would sit up, admiring how pretty you are and frowning at your words. “please stay,” he’d plead as you turn to face him, your clothes still piled in your arms. “you aren’t overstaying. i like having you here.” you’d grin at his words, taking a step towards his bed. “even though we just met earlier?” you’d question playfully, receiving a shy nod from him. you’d chuckle to yourself, dropping your clothes on the floor again as you slip your bare body next to his. “okay. i’ll stay.”

dilf!seungcheol who would stay up late with you, pulling you close to his chest and running his fingers through your hair. he’d tell you about his children, two beautiful girls, and would share his story about his tough divorce 2 years ago. after the divorce he’d never gotten around to dating again, too consumed by his career and too discouraged from the split. he’d confess that you’d been the first person he was genuinely interested in, so when you asked him to take you home he just couldn’t pass up the opportunity. you’d smile to yourself, imagining how precious seungcheol would look playing with his two daughters. “maybe i’ll get to meet them in the future,” you’d hum, hearing seungcheol chuckle behind you. “if you decide to stick around for a while, i’d love to introduce you.” he’d reply quietly, pressing fleeting pecks onto your exposed neck. you’d lean into his touch, sighing at the feeling of his plush lips against your skin. the thought of seeing seungcheol again would make your stomach flutter, secretly hoping that this won’t be a one-time thing. you’d crane your head around at an awkward angle to reach him, locking your lips with his and grinning into the kiss. “maybe i will.”

taglist: @imprettyweird , @jeonghanpill , @bangantokchy , @caratboy , @c-hanniehae , @wonvsmile

[ladamedusoif]

20/20 - no outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

(gif by @nicolethered)

Summary: After months of pestering from Sarah, Joel finally concedes that he might need to get his eyesight checked and makes an appointment at your optometrist practice. He really doesn’t want glasses, though.

Pairing: No Outbreak!Joel Miller x Optometrist F!Reader

Content/Warnings: MDNI; 18+; not explicit as such but implied; no outbreak AU; Joel and reader are broadly around the same age; fluff; Joel in glasses is his own warning; me making stuff up about eye exams

Word Count: 1600 (this was supposed to be a drabble)

Notes: So @lunapascal and @julesonrecord decided I needed to atone for being incredibly thirsty for the sight of a certain someone putting on a pair of glasses. And voilà, a “glasses are hot” one-shot and my first attempt at Mr Miller.

They say the eyes are the windows to the soul. But they’re also fascinating little machines in their own right, and you should know: you’ve been running your own vision care clinic in Austin for almost twenty years, after qualifying as an optometrist and gaining experience for a couple of years at various chains.

Some people love finding out they’re going to get to wear glasses. Others? Not so much.

Your last customer of the day definitely falls into the latter category. 

“Mr Miller?”

He looks around him in the empty waiting area, sighs, and stands up to join you in the testing suite. He looks like he’s being sent to the rack, not going for a routine eye examination. You introduce yourself and gesture towards the seat in front of your desk.

“So, Mr Miller -”

“Joel.”

“Joel. What brings you to the clinic today? You’re a new customer, have you just moved to the area?”

Joel looks uncomfortable, shifting in the seat. You guess he’s in his early fifties or so, salt-and-pepper hair and a patchy beard. He’s broad, still evidently a strong and well-built man. His denim shirt, embroidered with a logo that reads Miller Family Contractors, fits snugly but perfectly over his frame. 

“No, not new to Austin. Been here my whole life. Just…new to the eye doctor.”

“I see.” You pull up his file on the computer system and note his age. “If you don’t mind me saying, Joel, you’ve done pretty well getting to this stage in life without needing some kind of sight correction. What’s changed?”

He exhales, and for the first time since he sat down he actually makes eye contact with you.

Holy shit. You look at irises and pupils and corneas all damn day. You admire and respect the human eye, but you didn’t think it had the same power of attraction over you. Turns out, it had just been a while since you’d seen eyes as beautiful as his.

Even in the shitty artificial light of the testing suite, you can see that Joel Miller’s eyes are a perfect dark brown: at times like black coffee, at times like fine whiskey, depending on the light. They’re warm and enticing, even without him trying. You notice, too, the laughter lines and wrinkles around those extraordinary eyes - here, despite his stern exterior and manner, is a man who smiles and laughs. Who knows happiness.

“My daughter… she made me. Said she was gettin’ sick of me holdin’ up my phone so I could see the screen, and of missin’ half the stuff in my shows because I was squintin’.”

“Ah, she sounds like a wise person. Well, Joel, let’s get going.”

You conduct the retinal exam and the glaucoma test, Joel flinching as the puffs of air hit each eye. When he almost drags himself off the stool to move over for the pupil reactions and visual acuity testing, you decide to just ask.

“Joel, is everything okay? Are you comfortable with the procedures I’m doing?”

He arranges himself in the chair, his broadness making the equipment look comically small. He flashes you another look with those big brown eyes.

“I…I don’t want glasses.”

It’s not the first time you’ve heard this. “It’s okay, Joel. If you need vision correction we can look at contacts, or even laser surgery if you think that might be an option.”

He grimaces.

“I don’t want pokin’ in my eyes, either. Or lasers pointed at them. Absolutely not.”

You arch an eyebrow. “Well, let’s hope you don’t need glasses, then, Joel Miller.”

You have to get up close to him for parts of the eye test, as normal. To your horror, you realise that every time you do so, you get a surge of desire. He smells of shaved wood, of pine soap, of peppermint, and of leather. You notice the smattering of freckles across the tan skin exposed by the snaps left open on his shirt. You can’t take your own eyes off his hands: big, broad, long, and strong. 

Your mind immediately wanders to thinking about what those hands could do to you. Where they could go that you can’t reach with your own fingers, how they’d feel against your skin, reaching for you, groping at your tits as you - 

You clear your throat and turn back to the lens unit, away from Joel, lest he see how flustered you are becoming. He’s got a daughter, you remind yourself. He’s got a wife, or a partner.

“Everythin’ okay?”

“Sure, yes, fine, Joel. Sorry, just trying a new lens combination.”

***

Of course he needs glasses. It’s not a very strong prescription, but he seems crestfallen as you talk him through it.

“Joel, I don’t want to be condescending but glasses are a minor hardship when you think of being able to see clearly again.”

For the first time, he cracks a smile. “I know, I know. I just - I dunno. I feel like I’m an old man now, with my glasses and my stiff knees and my tight back. That’s why I didn’t want them, I - vanity, I guess. Didn’t want to admit I was old.”

You smile in return, noting how kind and warm his expression was. “You’re not old, Joel. You look great.”

That was unprofessional.

He blushes. “Until I put the specs on, that is.”

You point to yourself. “I’m wearing contacts today so it’s easier for me to do my job, but in my downtime - I’m glasses all the way.”

He scoffs. “Different for you, though, you’d look pretty no matter what.” 

“Pretty?” 

Joel looks up at you from under his lashes. “I mean…yeah, you are. Probably even prettier in your glasses, too.”

It’s your turn for the heat to rise to your cheeks, but you can’t help smiling. “Let’s just double-check the last of the personal contact details before we go look at some frames. Says here your emergency contact is Sarah Miller but there’s no description of your relationship - is she your wi-“

“Daughter. Sarah’s my adult daughter. No wife, no girlfriend.”

You try not to smile too obviously. “My emergency contact is my younger sister. Same reason.”

As you print out Joel’s new prescription, there’s a knock on the door - Meghan, your assistant who usually looks after customers when they choose their frames.

“It’s closing time… you want me to stay late?”

You shake your head. “Of course not, Meghan. I think I’ll be able to help Mr Miller choose his new frames. If that’s okay with you, Joel?”

He smiles and turns to Meghan. “I think I’m in good hands.”

***

Joel studies the selection of frames on display in the main public area of the clinic, looking completely overwhelmed. He turns to you, shrugging helplessly.

“I don’t even know where to start. What would you suggest? You’re the expert.”

You move closer to study his features, taking in the size and shape of his face, the firm set of his jaw, the strong line of his nose, the softness of his lips. 

Fuck, this is a beautiful man.

You catch your breath momentarily. “Many men who don’t want glasses choose the invisible frames, like these.” You hold up a pair of the lightweight style, placing them gingerly on Joel’s handsome face.

He studies himself in the mirror. “Not bad. Can’t even tell.”

“If I might suggest something, though?”

He nods. “You’re the expert, like I said.”

“I think your features could carry something a little stronger. More definite, more distinguished. Can I show you?”

You pick a couple of acetate frames from the rack, one in a dark caramel brown, the other in a sort of charcoal grey. You hold them out to Joel. 

He wavers, and settles on the caramel pair. You watch as he examines the frames, before gently putting them on.

That’s when you give yourself away. The sight of that man putting on those glasses is so devastatingly sexy that you let out a tiny moan. Joel turns, the frames beautifully complementing his colouring and the darkness of his eyes, and it’s all you can do not to moan again.

“You okay?”

“I’m…I’m fine. You just look…very…”

He moves closer, a little smile on his face. “You sayin’ the glasses are doin’ it for you?”

You nod. “That pair, yes. Yes, I think they might be. I’m sorry, this is horribly unprofessional of me.”

He grins. “Can you explain what it is you like about them?”

You swallow hard, turning him to see himself alongside you in a mirror. “They’re stylish. They are strong. They’re distinguished. They’re very…masculine.” You let the next words slip before you can stop yourself. “In other words, they’re very you.”

Joel turns his back to the mirror, focusing on you. “Only because you found them for me. I’d never have tried somethin’ like this.”

“You glad you did?”

“I am. And I’m glad I came in to get my old eyes checked out by the prettiest optometrist in all Texas.” 

You laugh, and he catches your hand to pull you in. Your fingers rest lightly on the broad expanse of his chest, feeling the taut denim underneath. You look at him expectantly.

“I know this is probably mighty unprofessional, but…”

You nod. “But I’ve already gone over the line, so…”

Joel leans in, frames still on, and kisses you: hot, hungry, deeply. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, returning his kiss with the same intensity. When you break away, you take his hand and lead him back towards the testing suite.

“More tests, darlin’?”

You arch an eyebrow as you pull him inside and close the door. “I suspect you’ll pass these with flying colours, Joel Miller. You don’t need 20/20 vision for what I’ve got in mind.”

[thesugarclubs-blog]

Back in the Game - Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: strangers to lovers, fluffy first date vibes

word count: 6.4k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1396767302-back-in-the-game-celeste

Masterlist

“When was the last time you saw her?” Sam asked as he poured a mug of coffee for himself. They were sitting in Bucky’s empty apartment. He had finally pulled the trigger and bought a bed, a few dishes, and food but that was enough.

It was starting to feel too comfortable. 

“Last week,” Bucky said, flexing his metal fingers and rolling a cloth through them to polish the plates in a sad attempt to hide the blush on his cheeks as he thought about her long dark hair and pretty smile. 

“You scrub those any harder and you’re going to corrode them,” Sam laughed. “Did you talk to her?” He asked. 

“No,” Bucky grumbled. “She’s-”

“She’s what?” 

“Out of my league.” He looked up finally and met Sam’s glare. “How do I flirt with a woman? The last time I did that was-”

“It’s kinda refreshing seeing the White Wolf sweat.” Sam sipped on his coffee and stared at Bucky. 

“You’re not being helpful.”

“So she’s pretty?” He assumed, looking at Bucky over his mug. 

“She’s beautiful,” I corrected him. 

“Go to the bar, practice on some random women, and work that confidence back up man. The next time you see her at the grocery store you can put the moves on her,” he suggested. 

Bucky fixed Sam with a blank, unimpressed look - as if it was just that easy - and then blinked slowly before he groaned and ran his warm hand down his face. 

"I never used to be like this y'know?"

Sam chuckled and placed his coffee mug down, his voice soft as he gave Bucky's arm a comforting squeeze.

"Yeah, I heard the stories. You got this though, man. You're Bucky Barnes." 

He said it like it means something and Bucky scrunched his, unconvinced. He hasn't felt like Bucky Barnes in decades.

Sam tilted his head.

"We could go out tonight."

"No," Bucky grumbled. "I'm busy."

He didn’t want to practice on some random woman in a bar. He wanted to get it right. With her. She was stunning, and Bucky remembered clumsily dropping the orange he was holding when he spotted her in the produce section. He swore there was a halo around her, and that could have been the bad fluorescent lighting, but even she looked good in it.

"Busy polishing your arm, or busy polishing something else?" Sam giggled from behind his mug.

"Samuel..." Bucky warned. “Don’t start with the jokes.”

“That’s my thing.”

“Get a new one.”

Sam raised his eyebrows and shrugged dramatically.

“Okay. Suit yourself. Stay at home and wallow.”

“I am not wallowing!” Bucky snapped. “I’m…” 

He let out a sigh, swallowing the lump in his throat. There were very few people he could be vulnerable around, but Sam was one of them. When push came to shove, they counted on each other.

“I’m terrified.”

"Aw Bucky.." Sam started.

"I don't need your sympathy, Sam," Bucky cut him off.

"You weren't getting sympathy," Sam responded, looking him dead in the eyes. "What I was going to say, before you so rudely interrupted, was that it might be decades since you worked your magic but things haven't changed as much as you think. She's a woman, and you're all man."

“Would you…just…man, quit wigglin’ your eyebrows at me like that, jeez,” Bucky stammered, his face turning an even brighter shade of crimson. 

“Look, even you must have noticed the way those recruits giggle and bat their eyes at you,” Sam pressed.

“That’s not the same thing,” Bucky muttered, his thoughts once again drifting to the way her eyes had brightened when she’d picked up the perfect head of broccoli.

"It is!" Sam exclaimed, eyebrows nearly hitting his hairline in disbelief. "You just don't wanna admit that even after everything, someone might actually want to make you happy. You could kill someone and that intern with the glasses would ask you to do it again!" 

Bucky tossed the rag at Sam, who let out a yelp at the amount of force the fabric hit him with. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he took a deep breath. Hums, thumps, and the soft beat of Sam's heart echoed in Bucky's head as his best friend's words replayed over and over. Suddenly the silence was way too loud. With resignation, he met Sam's puppy eyed stare. 

"You get one hour," he pointed at Sam, who punched the air gleefully. "And you're buyin'.

A groan left Bucky's throat in response, but Sam ignored it while he put the rag back into the kitchen, winked at Bucky, and left the apartment with another "One hour, loverboy!".

The moment the door closed behind him, Bucky took a deep breath. So deep that he could see his chest expand in the corner of his eyes. Every breath felt heavy but only a bare minimum of oxygen made it into his lungs. As if he was drowning, without even being in water. 

He recognized the early signs of his anxiety, but tried to calm himself with massaging his flesh hand with the vibranium fingers, applying enough pressure on the trigger points next to his thumb. 

It was only a boy's night out. She probably wasn't even there and he wouldn't use a different woman for a dry run. Nope, not going to happen. 

With his head hanging low and his mind too busy to focus on anything else right now, he head into the bathroom to take a shower.

That evening, Bucky met Sam outside their regular haunt, a grin on his friend’s face as he opened the door. 

“Let’s get this over with,” Bucky muttered, ducking inside.

“Alright hotshot, what’re you drinkin’?” 

Sam bustled him towards the bar, hands on his shoulders and almost bouncing with giddiness. 

“Old fashioned,” Bucky murmured to the bartender awaiting their orders. 

“Make it two,” Sam added as Bucky turned his back to the bar, scoping out the crowded room.

He was starting to regret agreeing to this. The alcohol wouldn’t do anything to loosen him up and if Sam’s enthusiasm was anything to go by, it was sure to get real tiring, real quick. 

Speaking of which, his partner clapped him on the shoulder and not so subtly pointed to a blonde down the bar. 

“What about her? She’s hot… and definitely giving you the eye.”

“Yeah, but she’s not—“

Her.

Sam groaned and took a generous gulp of his drink, shaking his head.

“Will you relax, big boy? You’re not marrying her. This isn’t 1920 anymore.”

“I was three in 1920, you jackass,” Bucky snarled. 

Sam rolled his eyes and Bucky shifted in his seat. He couldn’t do this, not now. He’d always longed to be the man he was before the train, before Zola, before the brainwashing, but he knew that man died in the snow that day in 1945. He’s never been the same since, even after therapy and pardons… something shifted. He felt alien; thrown into a brand new century that he wasn’t meant to exist in.

“Just… give it a shot. She’s gorgeous.” 

Sam gave her a little wave and she giggled, hiding behind her hair as her long fingers wrapped around her glass. She was pretty, with golden hair that fell down her back in gentle curls.

“Sounds like you’re more interested in her than I am,” Bucky grumbled into his drink. 

“Okay. Tactic change,” Sam replied. “200 bucks says you’re too big of a coward to hit on the next woman who walks in here.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. If there was one thing he didn’t lose, it was a bet. Especially not a bet to Sam Wilson.

“You’re on.”

Bucky's heart was in his mouth, as the minutes passed and the bar doors remained closed.

He picked up his glass again. He needed to relax, to tell himself it wasn't a life or death situation, or the end of the world.  He took a sip and gulped the liquid down. 

Moments passed before the door opened. He managed to take a breath in when he saw it was just a group of guys, hustling each other inside with good natured banter.

"You really are nervous," Sam started, as the door started to swing closed again. 

As he took another swig, trying to summon 1942 Bucky, the door swung inwards again. As his eyes rose to look at the entrance, it took every bit of control he had to swallow that mouthful.

A woman walked through the door with bouncing brown waves, a delicate jaw. Bucky’s heart leapt in his chest. 

Shit, it was…not her.

The face she revealed when she turned wasn’t the one that’d been haunting his thoughts for the past two months. That wasn’t to say she wasn’t beautiful though. 

Catching his eye as she walked over to the bar, the woman smiled sweetly at him before leaning against the wooden bar top, trying to catch the attention of the bartender.

“Look man, she smiled at you. Go shoot your shot,” Sam hissed, nudging him towards the woman.

With a glare at his friend and a final swallow of his drink that he had to force past the knot of nerves in his throat, he squared his shoulders.

“Fine,” he gritted if only to get Sam off his back.

Fixing a smile on his face he turned and took a few steps towards the woman and leaned next to her.

Act casual.

“I’ll drink that,” he said, gesturing to the glass of wine before her.

“What?!” She asked, bemused.

“I mean I’ll buy you,” he tried again, wincing. “No! I mean I’ll get that drink for you.”

Her eyes widened as he stumbled over his words. Instead of responding, she slipped from the stool, giving him the cold shoulder as she disappeared towards the back of the bar. 

With a groan, Bucky turned to Sam and glared pointedly. Sam sent a thumbs up and mouthed "Try again." before nodding towards the growing crowd of people. 

Bucky licked his lips anxiously, blue eyes trying to casually scan the room like he used to do with Steve at the dance halls. Girls seemed easier to approach in his youth, but maybe he was just filled with Brooklyn-born confidence back then.

With his gut twisting uncomfortably, Bucky let his gaze skip from woman to woman. All of them beautiful but none of them gave him that feeling — the butterflies, the double-time beating of his heart. 

God, he hated this. 

And then it happened, the door closing and Bucky only quick enough to catch the back of her head but he knew. Brunette waves, no doubt in his mind this time. His eyes settled on her across the room and in his peripherals he sees Sam’s head turn to follow his gaze to the door.

Bucky met his eye briefly before Sam’s thumbs were flying across his phone screen. Bucky’s buzzed in his pocket and he fumbled for it before he scanned the message on the screen. 

If you don’t, I will.

Bucky’s head whipped around to tell him to fuck off, but Sam was already striding toward the bathroom, lifting one hand to wave at him without looking.

You’re supposed to be my wingman, he typed back.

His phone lit up again.

That was never part of the bet 💃🏻

“I’m gonna break his phone,” he muttered. “And his fingers.”

When he looked back up at the brunette, she was flicking away tears. And she was alone. Her eyes landed on him for a split second. Was he imagining a brief moment of recognition? Or was he just nervous? She trudged up to the bar and leaned up against it, her tight black tank top rode up her back a little and Bucky stared up at the ceiling, fighting every urge not to stare her down like a creep. He wanted to work on his "game" as Sam called it-- but he didn't want to terrify women.

“Gin and tonic, please. Triple.” 

Her voice was husky and laced with grief. She tossed some cash onto the counter and Bucky’s guts twisted. Who the hell made her cry? Before he could even think, he was walking up to the bar and pushing the cash back toward her as he dug his wallet out of his leather jacket.

“It’s on me.”

“Please,” she scoffed. “I don’t need a man to take pity on me. Not right now.”

“It ain’t pity…”

“Celeste,” she quietly supplied.

“Celeste,” he repeated, relishing the way her name felt. “I just thought it might put that beautiful smile back on your face.”

He thought he’d messed up again when she turned away from him but to his relief she didn’t walk off.

Shaking out her hair she adjusted her shirt and sniffled a few times. If it hadn’t been for his enhanced hearing he would never have caught her muttering.

“Can’t believe I meet Hot Grocery Store Guy looking like a royal mess. Must think I’m a psycho.”

“I don’t think you’re a— wait. Hot Grocery Store Guy?!” 

Celeste snapped her head up, looking a little sheepish as her cheeks flushed a soft pink. 

“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” she murmured.

Bucky chuckled and leaned against the bar, his nerves withering away as Celeste huffed out a quiet laugh too. 

“I got good ears,” he replied, lips curved into a small smile. 

“You got a name too? Unless you want me to call you Hot Grocery Store Guy?” 

She smiled properly then, bright and just as gorgeous as he’d seen in the store. 

“Bucky. Uh, Bucky Barnes.”

“Oh, okay, so Hot Grocery Store Guy is your middle name,” she replied with a grin. "Got it."

Bucky blushed furiously and swept a hand through his hair.

“Middle name’s Buchanan.”

“The worst President of all time?” She fired back with a teasing smile.

He exhaled, his shoulders shaking with laughter. This woman knew how to humble him. Quick. He liked that. Slowly, he could feel some of that bravado creeping back in.

“You’re killin’ me here, doll.” 

Celeste laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and bit her lip. She was so beautiful, with soft freckles that cascaded down her cheekbones, and a few scattered on the bridge of her slightly upturned nose. Her warm brown eyes danced across his face and suddenly, Bucky felt like he wasn’t in control of this anymore.

“I’ll go easy on you from now on.” She licked her lips. “Bucky.”

He liked the way his name sounded on her lips. Maybe a little too much. He glanced down at the drink in front of her.

“You gonna let me pay for that?” He asked.

“That depends,” she breathed. “Are you planning on sticking around? 'Cause I could use a drinking buddy."

Bucky beamed.

"I'm here all night."

He could sense Sam exiting the bathroom even before he saw him, the smugness rolling off his friend in waves.

“How ‘bout you grab us a seat, Sweetheart, and I’ll join you in a second, yeah?” Bucky smiled, indicating his head towards Sam’s approaching figure.

“Sure,” she replied, picking up the bulbous gin glass and squeezing his arm before making her way through the bar.

“Well look at you, Tinman. Found your heart after all,” Sam drawled. “Is this the part where you introduce us?”

“No, this is the part where you leave,” Bucky replied, hoping Sam wouldn’t pick up on the desperate note in his voice.

“Leave! Are you kidding me?” Sam scoffs. “Not when the fun is about to start.” 

“You just want to see me sweat,” Bucky rolls his eyes a little at that. He loved his friend for making him come here but, right now, he wants to focus on the gorgeous woman that’s waiting for him at the table without Sam’s watchful gaze. He doesn’t want to mess anything up just because his friend is giving him a thumbs-up from across the bar. 

“But…”

Bucky gives him a look that says, ‘go or I’ll make you go’. “Fine,” Sam relents to his friends’ wishes and before he turns to leave, he says with a smile, "Good luck!"

"I am going to need it," Bucky murmurs and turns to find her watching their interaction with an amused expression.

“Go get her, tiger.” Sam clapped him on the back and Bucky swatted at him.

“Don’t call me that!” He snapped as he headed back toward Celeste. “So patronizing.”

“You got this, sport!” Sam called. "You're doing great, champ!"

Celeste looked confused while Bucky was blushing furiously as he wandered back to her.

“You gonna introduce me to Captain America?” She asked as she sipped her drink.

“Not until he behaves himself,” Bucky grumbled. He tried to shake off the nerves and climbed back onto the bar stool. “So… where were we?”

“Oh!” Her eyes widened and she rested her chin on her hand. “You were doing some pretty awkward flirting, and you still have to pay for my drink.”

His stomach flipped. Right. He forgot about that.

“Oh! Jeez,” he grumbled, digging into his wallet. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “What a schmuck, huh?”

She giggled and placed a hand over his metal one. He flinched a little, but she didn’t move it. Her smile was warm and comforting. He could get used to seeing it every day.

“Bucky, it’s fine,” she giggled. “I’m just giving you a hard time. I’m sorry. I’ll stop.”

“No, no. I offered.” He pulled some cash out of his wallet and handed it to the bartender, shoving a little more into the tip cup. “Sorry. Okay, now where were we?”

“I found an empty booth back there,” she pointed, “I mean, if that’s ok with you? We can sit at the bar if you pref-“

“A booth’s fine, great actually,” he interrupted, eyeing Sam’s shaking shoulders as he edged away.

With a tight smile that still showed a hint of her earlier sadness, Celeste led the way across the bar towards the booths. Bucky followed close behind, his hand hovering at the small of her back, not quite touching. 

“This ok?” She asked, looking back over her shoulder.

“Perfect,” he reassured.

They sit down and Bucky picks up the laminated menu, “Would you like something to eat? The pretzels here are amazing.”

“Pretzels?” Celeste asks, baffled at that. “From all of the menu items, a pretzel is the amazing thing here? That is so simple. Pretzels are the same everywhere! You cannot mess up a thing as basic as that.”

“You would be surprised,” Bucky replies, but he accomplished what he wanted – to put a smile on her face again. 

“Okay, I’ll give you this one. Let’s order that and some potato skins. Now, those are good.”

With the food order, Bucky decides to ask what has been bothering her since he saw her at the bar. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Celeste glanced up from her drink, fingers stilling on the glass. 

“Oh, uh…” she hesitated. 

“You don’t have to,” Bucky rushed out, “I just— I have good ears… y’know, for listenin’.”

He was internally groaning even as the last word left his lips, but Celeste had her bottom lip tucked under her teeth, eyes sparkling with amusement as she stifled a giggle. 

“You really are out of practice, huh?” She replied, but her tone wasn’t teasing, it was soft and understanding. 

“Yeah,” Bucky muttered, cheeks flaming, “but even I know that was bad.”

“Self-awareness gets you brownie points,” she said, her lip quirking upwards into a smile.

“Somethin’s gotta,” Bucky winced, taking a swallow of his drink.

“It’s more than most guys have,” Celeste hummed and when he saw her expression change it finally clicked for Bucky what had made her so upset.

“Oh, Sweetheart, please don’t tell me you’re cut up over some dumb guy?  I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna go kick his ass.  He obviously needs some of the stupid knockin’ out of him.”  Bucky made to get out of his seat but Celeste laughed and dragged him back.

She continued to giggle, covering her face with her hand as he muttered about stupid guys not knowing a good thing when they see one.

“No, no, don’t do that,” she continued to giggle. “He got a good talking to in his voicemail, believe me.”

Bucky huffed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not enough.”

She dropped her hands from her face and rested her fingers on his arm, "I'm better now, let's just forget that I got ghosted."

"Ghosted?" His brows scrunched together and Celeste started to laugh again. "I'm not very good with the terms. Will you tell me what happened?" He asked her. "With the ghost?"

She nodded and took a sip of her drink, swallowing it down as she settled into the booth. He liked that she was getting comfortable, her eyes widened a little and her bottom lip went slack. She was enjoying herself and it made him feel wonderful.

“It sounds stupid now that I think about it,” she sighed.  “You’re gonna think I’m dumb.”

“I would never!” He gasped, looking mortally offended.  “Cross my heart.”

“OK, I matched with this guy on a dating app and we hit it off, even spoke on the phone a couple of times.  He talked a good game and we arranged to meet tonight but he never showed.  Left me waiting in the restaurant for an hour and a half.”

She gave a little sigh and Bucky’s brows furrowed sympathetically.

 “I tried the whole online dating thing too, it’s pretty crazy. A lot of weird pictures.  I mean, tiger photos? Half the time I don’t even know what I’m looking at, it’s a lot.”

“Tiger photos?” Celeste laughed. “What?”

“Yeah, I didn’t get it either,” Bucky murmured. “Between that and getting random pictures of body parts I didn’t ask to see yet… I, uh…” He let out a chuckle. “I gave up pretty quick. It’s brutal out there. I don’t know how people do it.”

She raised her drink.

“To shitty online dates.”

They clink glasses and Bucky couldn't take his eyes off of her as she sips her drink. 

“I’m pretty close to deleting the app myself,” she confessed. “Last month, I went out with this Wall Street guy and all he did was explain Bitcoin to me. Didn’t ask me about myself, my hobbies, just… tried to get me to invest. Come to think of it, I think it was a pyramid scheme. And he was sweating a lot.”

Bucky chuckled, his cheeks warming as her eyes lingered on his lips.

“Well, I’d like to know about your hobbies. And I only sweat a medium amount.” 

“A medium amount, huh?” She laughed. Celeste took a sip from her drink and pondered a moment. “I like the outdoors. Walks in the park or through the zoo are stress relief for me.”

"The zoo?"  Bucky hadn't been, "you'll have to take me, I mean if you want, I don't remember the last time I went to the zoo..." 

"Planning our second date already?" Her hair fell over her shoulder as she tilted her head to the side. 

"Well isn't this our first?" He asked her. There was a slight risk she might say no but he was willing to take it. 

"And what about our third?" She smiled at him and he nearly fell out of his seat from the fireworks that exploded in his chest. "Where will you take me, I'm taking you to the zoo after all."

Bucky bit his lip, his heart racing. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sam watching them, chin resting on his hand like he was watching one of those stupid romantic comedies he said he never cried at.

He did. And so did Bucky.

Just two grown men sitting on the couch, pretending they didn’t have emotions during You’ve Got Mail. 

“How about a walk through Central Park and dinner? Real dinner.”

“Real dinner?”

Her eyes sparkled and he wanted nothing more than to reach over the table and brush his fingertips across the soft pink flush that stained her cheeks.

“You like sushi?”

“I fucking love sushi,” she whispered. “Are you asking me out, Bucky Hot Grocery Store Guy Barnes?”

He cleared his throat and took another sip of his drink for a bit of liquid courage that he hadn’t actually felt since the ‘40s. The habit was just there. He drummed his metal fingers against the glass and she watched with fascination before her eyes met his.

“I think I might be,” he whispered.

“I’d say yes if you did,” Celeste returned, and it was her hand that slid halfway across the table, her palm up and her fingers outstretched.

Bucky was too dumbstruck to say anything else.  He could feel his face burning as he reached out and placed his hand in hers, not able to tear his eyes away from her sweet, smiling face.

A crash sounded from the other side of the bar and Celeste let out a giggle, the direction her eyes were being drawn in told Bucky everything he needed to know.

“What did he do?” He sighed in consternation.

“Fist-bumped the air so hard he fell off his stool,” she replied between bouts of laughter.

Bucky’s head fell as he snorted, then laughed. “I would have paid to see that.”

“I’m pretty sure someone recorded it,” Celeste replied as she felt him grip her hand. “He is Captain America, after all.”

"Beautiful and smart," his eyes flickered to and from her lips, lingering on the corners of her mouth as she pulled the bottom lip between her teeth. 

"How does anyone resist that charm?" she asked in a whisper as their bodies grew closer. 

"I think you dragged it out of me," he whispered back. 

"Kicking and screaming?" She laughed and her breath fanned across his cheeks. 

"I'm waving a white flag," he winked at her. 

“Well, someone should rescue you,” she chuckled.

He shrugged.

“We could always cut straight to that third date.”

Celeste’s eyes widened and suddenly, a bead of sweat trickled down his spine. He was really taking a leap of faith with this one. And Bucky wasn’t a huge fan of heights.

“You wanna leave your friend all humiliated and alone at the bar?”

Bucky drained his drink and shook his head, brows knitting together.

“Trust me, this won’t be something he gets mad at. One time I ripped off his wings and kicked him off a hellicarrier.”

Celeste choked on her drink and covered her mouth with one hand as she coughed. Bucky winced and looked away. Maybe that was too much.

“Wow, I thought I had shitty co-workers,” she snickered.

When he looked back, she was still laughing, her shoulders shaking and her eyes sparkling.

“Well, I’ve grown.”

“That’s important,” Celeste murmured as her thumb glided gently across his vibranium knuckles.

He couldn’t feel it, but he shivered all the same. She was totally unafraid. She treated him like he was any other guy as blush cascaded down her neck. His t-shirt was starting to feel a little too tight around the base of his throat and he slid his fingers between his skin and the fabric just so he could get a second to breathe. His heart was pounding. She hadn’t even said yes yet, and he was hanging on to every breath she took. Waiting.

Celeste’s lips curled into a smile.

“There’s a great ice cream place near Central Park,” she offered. “Maybe you could buy a gal a waffle cone.”

“I could do that,” he smiled back, his tongue darting out across his bottom lip.

“They even have pistachio, I think.”

“That’s my-“

“Favourite? Yeah, I thought so,” she said and then continued as she took in his curious expression.  “You’ve always had a pint of pistachio in your cart in the store.”

Bucky couldn’t help the delighted laughter that bubbled up from his chest.  He downed the last of his drink and stood from the booth, holding out his hand.

“Come on then, Beautiful Grocery Store Dame, let’s get some ice cream.”

Celeste blushed as she gently took Bucky’s hand and stood. “Lead the way.”

Bucky’s heart felt like it could burst as he led her out of the bar, turning back to look at her. “The park’s not far. Do you wanna walk? Did you drive here?”

"Walk," she answered quickly and gave his hand a squeeze. They walked through the crowd passed Sam who watched them with a shocked expression.

"Not a word," Bucky shook his head in passing. "Not a damn word Wilson!" He held open the door for Celeste to walk through, expecting her to drop her hold on him but she just tugged him out into the cool air away from the busy sounds of the crowded bar. 

"That's better," Celeste nudged him as he scooted her to the inside of the sidewalk and directed them toward the park. "Now we can actually talk."

“Okay, so. You know I have a penchant for the outdoors and zoos,” she began. “Tell me about you.”

Bucky always dreaded this part. This was the reason a lot of his conversations on dating apps didn’t go anywhere. He hated talking about himself. What was there to say? Yeah, I did some casual assassinations for 70 years and got brainwashed and manacled to a chair. Not a big deal. Where did you say you worked again?

“Which version do you want?” He asked.

“I want the Bucky Barnes nobody sees. I know all about Hydra, and about you saving those hostages in New York and about being a big hero. But I want the real you.”

"That's a tall order," he chuckled.

"Almost as tall as you." He snorted and her hand slipped into his with relative ease. “But I think you’re up for it, Sergeant.”

His stomach fluttered and for a second, he was at a loss for words. He was a civilian now. His life was no longer about the fight. His therapist told him he had to find a balance between being a hero and being Bucky, but it wasn’t easy. That life was all he’d known, ever since he got drafted back in ’41. 

“I have a cat,” he offered.

Celeste gasped.

“I love cats. Do you have pictures?”

He chuckled.

“So many.” He pulled out his phone and showed her a picture of Alpine napping in the sun. “She’s my wallpaper.”

“Oh my God, she’s gorgeous,” Celeste gushed, almost grabbing the phone from Bucky’s hands to take a closer look.

“Second prettiest girl I ever saw,” he said, proud of the way his words caused a flush to creep up the sides of Celeste’s throat. “But don’t tell her I said that.”

“Promise,” she grinned, releasing her grip on his phone and crossing her heart.

The gesture drew Bucky’s gaze to her chest, which then made him panic that she’d think he was staring, which in turn almost made him stumble over his own feet as they reached the entrance to the park.

“Come on, soldier, both feet,” Celeste chuckled, leading him forwards yet again.

Bucky laughed and shook his head as he regained his balance. “I’m sorry. I’m normally not like this.”

"Do you have-" He attempted to recover, "a cat, or a dog?" 

"My apartment doesn't allow them but when I was little I had this grouchy old thing, grey fur, angry as all hell." She laughed and leaned in closer to him, resting her other hand on his chest as she snuggled into his arm. "He was mean until the day he died. You would have gotten along with him." 

"Ha, ha," Bucky laughed leaning his chin toward her as they walked. "Okay next," he said trying to grasp at the normality of their conversation, "what do you like to do in your spare time? You know, when you aren't prowling the grocery store for hot men who love pistchio iceream."

“Skydiving. Arson. Um… a little bit of breaking and entering.” 

Bucky stared at her for a second before she burst into laughter and leaned up against him, bumping him with her shoulder. She smelled like bergamot and caramel.

“Careful, doll. You’ll give an old man a heart attack pulling stunts like that.”

“Okay, okay,” she laughed. “I'll stop for real. I wouldn’t want that.”

“Well, that’s nice of you.”

“I mean, who would pay for my ice cream?” She quipped.

He shook his head, smiling from ear to ear. The more they talked, the more relaxed he felt. Celeste kept him on his toes— literally and metaphorically. He liked that. 

“I’m mostly a big reader with no friends,” Celeste laughed.

Bucky pressed a hand to his chest.

“What a coincidence. I’m also a big reader with no friends.”

“You have a friend!” Celeste countered. 

“Eh…” Bucky shrugged. “That’s putting it loosely.”

They continued walking along, a slight nuzzle every now and then for warmth. 

"What kind of books do you like to read?" 

Bucky loved her curiosity. "Mostly science fiction and fantasy. Someone on an app once called me a hot nerd." He thought for a second. 

"Goddamnit, he was flirting with me. I'm dumb. I see that now."

Celeste let out a loud burst of laughter- more of a giggle. Bucky's eyebrows shot up and he couldn't help but chuckle

"Something I said?"

Celeste stopped them in their tracks and placed her hands against his chest. He blushed furiously. 

"Self-awareness with a small peppering of self-deprecation. You better be careful, President Buchanan, or I just might fall for you."

His heart lept into his throat. He was quick, but she was quicker.

“I’ll race you down there,” he said, trying for smooth but the way Celeste threw her head back and cackled made him think he’d not quite hit the mark. 

He laughed with her, and at himself, shaking his head and squeezing her fingers when her hand slipped back into his. 

They continued along the path, admiring the late fall afternoon. Leaves crunched beneath their feet and the ducks on the lake seemed to follow them, perhaps hoping for crumbs.

They rounded a bend in the path and the vintage-style ice cream truck appeared, with a thankfully short queue. Joining it, Bucky’s heart nearly leaped out of his chest when Celeste snuggled closed to him, sliding her arm tentatively around his waist underneath his leather jacket.

He smiled down at her, feeling butterflies flutter in his chest. “Are you cold?” He asked softly. “I could offer my jacket?”

"I much prefer it this way," she nuzzled a little closer and knotted her fingers into the fabric to hold him close. 

"You might change your mind after ice cream." He teased. 

"Maybe, but we can deal with that later." She said, watching him as he ordered two ice creams for them. The waffle cone was warm in his hand and the ice cream cool against their lips as they curved down the path toward the quieter part of the park. She ate her cone quietly, every so often checking to make sure he was still there as if she wasn't attached to him. 

"What?" Bucky finally asked, curious enough about what was going on behind her big beautiful eyes.

“You’ve got ice cream on your nose,” she giggled.

“Dammit—“ 

Bucky blushed and reached for it, but Celeste’s fingers bumped into his. His chest grew tight and suddenly, she was the only thing he could see. The people milling around them didn’t matter, and the sound of the traffic faded into the background as she licked her gorgeous, plump lips.

“Let me?”

His face was so warm, he was surprised he wasn’t melting his cone just by holding it in front of his face. She smiled at him, getting up on her tiptoes to swipe some pistachio ice cream off of his nose and lick her thumb.

“All gone,” she whispered. “You’re back to looking very suave.”

“Good. Wouldn’t want to ruin my disguise.”

She was still on her toes, her head tilted back slightly to meet his gaze, and his arm around her waist tightened just a little. It pulled her closer and she fitted against him like she was made to be there.

“Can I-can I try something?” He asked softly with a slight tremor to his words.

“I wish you would,” she whispered back.

James chewed at his bottom lip a moment before he gently rested his fingers under her chin. Then he dipped his head down to place a single chaste kiss to her lips.

A soft whimper left her lips as he pulled back, his hand tickling around her waist unwilling to let her go just yet. She looked up at him, nose cold from the chill air and cheeks red from blushing. "I'm really glad you did," she laughed breathlessly. 

For such a tiny kiss Bucky could feel the vibrations of it down to the tips of his toes as he battled with the urge to steal another. Her lips were soft and tasted like ice cream. He just wanted more. For a day he had been so scared to begin, he didn't want it to ever end.

“You still up for dinner?” He asked.

“Tonight?” 

Bucky shrugged.

“Sure. I’m not doing anything, and you’re already dressed for a date.”

She clicked her tongue.

“I don’t know… I might need some convincing.”

He frowned and tilted his head. Sam called it his golden retriever head tilt. 

“Convincing?” 

Celeste beamed and got up on her tiptoes, pressing a slower kiss to his lips. Bucky’s hand slid around the back of her neck as she nipped gently at his bottom lip and he blushed as she tugged on it, releasing it with a gentle pop. He whimpered, his eyelids fluttering as she gazed up at him, batting her eyelashes.

“I think we’re supposed to kiss after the date,” he whispered.

“We’re also supposed to have ice cream after dinner, so we can let some things slide.”

Bucky cleared his throat and nodded. Celeste giggled and nuzzled against him.

“I’d love to have dinner with you, Bucky.”

[inlovewithgreta]

you are my sunshine

Larissa Weems x Fem!Reader

Chapter Seventeen

The week went by quickly, both you and Larissa taking a step back into professionalism to set up for the Rave'N. As both of you were perfectionists, the decorations took up most of your time as there was always something that looked off so you decided to change it or move it somewhere else. After everything was perfected and ready to go, you took a step back to admire your handy work, proud of how good everyone did to make this dance unforgettable.

"I'm going to go get ready," You sighed contently, Larissa giving you a nod while she took a sip of her nearly empty water bottle.

"Don't be late!" She called out after you as soon as she finished drinking.

You gave her a nod over your shoulder, walking out of the room, and immediately making your way to your living quarters. You were going to get yourself ready until you spotted the dress you bought for Wednesday hanging next to your own, immediately grabbing it and heading towards Ophelia Hall in hopes that she was in her room.

After a few knocks to the door, an excited Enid opened the door to let you in. A squeal immediately left her lips when she noticed the black dress in your hands.

"Oh my gosh, is that for Wednesday?!"

"It is," You chuckled at her enthusiasm.

"That dress. . ." Wednesday butted in, eyes focused on your hands. "How did you–?"

"You're not as sneaky as you think you are. I caught you staring at it, and as the amazing older sister that I am, I bought it for you. Go try it on." You practically forced the dress into her hands, not giving her a chance to rebuttal as you returned your focus back to Enid who was sitting on her bed with makeup spread all around her as she frantically tried to figure out what she was doing.

"Need some help?" You offered the small blonde.

"Please– I have so many ideas but I don't know what I'm doing. I've watched tutorial after tutorial but I always mess it up, and tonight needs to be perfect–" The younger girl was speaking so fast, panic spreading across her features.

"Okay, okay!" You cut her off with a small laugh, "There's no need to panic, I know what I'm doing. May I?" You point to her bed, wanting to sit across from her.

"Oh– thank you! Sorry, yes, sit." She attempted to tidy up her mess to make room for you to sit down.

You sat across from her, legs tucked beneath you as you examined all your options.

"First things first, what do you plan on wearing?"

"Uh–" Enid looked around before jumping from the bed to grab a dress that hung in front of her floor-length mirror. "This! Isn't it totes adorable?!" She smiled brightly as she showed you the dress.

"That's really cute, Enid! I have to say, I love your style." You admitted, as she put the dress back to return to her seat in front of you.

"I could literally say the same about you! I always see you in super cute dresses, and I can only imagine what the inside of your closet looks like."

"Maybe I can give you a little tour sometime, I'm sure you'd be in heaven." You smiled when her eyes immediately lit up.

"I would love to! I need a break from looking at Wednesday's clothes, they still give me the creeps."

"Then we'll have to remember to do that soon."

She nodded her head with the biggest smile you've ever seen on someone's face.

"Now, back to business," You cleared your throat, returning your focus back to the task at hand, "Give me one word for the kind of look you're going for."

"Pink!" She answered, almost instantaneously. "Ooh, and sparkly! How about these?" Enid excitedly handed you a small case of rhinestones and face glue.

"This is perfect, Enid. You're going to look amazing!"

Enid's face never faltered as you started on her makeup, her finger eagerly tapping against her leg. Thing jumped onto Enid's bed, holding her hand to calm her nerves.

"You painted thing's nails?" You asked the younger girl as you finished off her pink eyeshadow, noticing the color on thing's nails.

"Mhm! We've been really bonding."

"Hmm, I don't know why I've never thought of that before."

You and Enid chatted for a few minutes just before Wednesday came out, your focus turning towards your sister with a small smile. "Mother would so freak out if she saw you right now, Wednesday. Getting ready for the Rave'n with your roomie," You slightly teased her, earning an expected eye roll from Wednesday.

"What are you doing to her face?" She asked, eyebrows knitting in confusion.

"I'm putting small gems on her face. She's going to shine under the lights!" You had just finished applying the small stones, Enid turning her face to show Wednesday the almost finished look.

"You'll lose a hand if you even attempt to do that to mine."

"Wasn't planning on it, sis. You should still do something though, and when you're done I can do your hair. You and I both know you have zero skills in doing anything besides your two usual braids."

"Fine." Wednesday reluctantly agreed, just as there was a knock at the door.

Wednesday answered it, eyes widening when Tyler, the boy from the coffee shop, was on the other side of the door, dressed for the Rave'N and expecting to go with Wednesday. Enid giggled, knowing that thing had set the whole thing up.

The two of them talked while you finished Enid's makeup, finishing the look off with a bit of lipstick and handing the blonde a small mirror to look at the final product. Another squeal clouded your ears, Enid excitedly pulling you into a hug before jumping off the bed. "Thank you, thank you! I'm going to get dressed!" She snagged her dress and ran inside her closet just as Wednesday had closed the door with an exasperated sigh.

"Come on, I'll do your hair." You did your best to hide how excited you were. It was strange to even see Wednesday in this kind of dress, going to a school dance, let alone with a boy.

"Nothing crazy." Wednesday responded, sitting down at Enid's vanity while you stood behind her to fix her hair.

"Okay, okay."

It only took you a few minutes to come up with an idea and get her hair into place in an updo hairstyle, that was simple since it was her usual hairstyle, yet new for Wednesday as you put a new spin on it. Enid had since ran out the door, too excited to wait for Wednesday as she had brought a date of her own. Once Wednesday was done, you gave her a small smile in the mirror, one in which earned a small smile of her own.

"Thank you," Your sister finally stated. "You should go get ready, I'm sure Weems is already on a rampage."

You eyes widened at her name, her words from earlier clouding your mind.

Don't be late.

You checked your watch, swearing under your breath at the time you've spent on the two girls instead of getting yourself ready. "I'll uh– see you down there. Please don't do anything stupid tonight. There's only so much I can say to Larissa to keep her from yelling at you." You pleaded before making your exit, practically speed-walking back to your own room.

Clothes got thrown at multiple angles around the room as you stripped down as fast as possible to put your dress on. The mess was something you would worry about later, your main worry now being the earful you feared you were going to get from Larissa at your tardiness.

You kicked your shoes off to switch them out with heels before you sat down at the vanity. Nimble fingers picking out your usual makeup, but using a bit more contour and lip gloss, while also making sure to add mascara to make your eyes pop.

Your foot tapped repeatedly as you attempted to tame your hair, giving up after multiple failed attempts, and just putting a small braid along the side before taking a faux pearl hair clip and clipping all your hair up at the back of your head. Your bangs were purposely left out to frame your face, thankful that your hair had a slight curl already to it, saving you time on having to use a curling iron.

You added faux pearl accessories that complimented your hair clip, including earrings, a necklace, and a few rings that sat tightly over your long silky white gloves that stopped just above your elbows. Your shoes got kicked off to be replaced with a pair of high heeled shoes, making you prominently a few inches taller than usual. You gave yourself one last glance in the mirror, making sure you looked as good as possible before slipping out the door.

It took a mere moment for you to make your way down to where the dance was being held. You walked slowly inside, just after a group of excited teens ran through the doors. Standing just past the entrance, right under the fairylights, your eyes immediately swept over the crowd for Larissa.

Larissa would guarantee that her heart skipped a beat in the moment your eyes locked with hers. Her breath hitched, getting caught in her throat and her body paused at your smaller figure standing under the twinkling lights, your eyes sparkling almost as much as a jewel would've. You looked ethereal.

In her eyes, everyone else in the room disappeared and nothing else mattered. You were her main focus. She could feel the heat rush to her cheeks as she scanned you from head-to-toe, eyes lingering ever so slightly at your hips before returning back to your face.

There was something about her gaze that had you weak in the knees, feeling like you could topple over from just her look alone. She felt like a kid in a candy shop, and you were the delicious treat that she didn't just want, but needed to have. Her eyes were glossed over by the time she had come back to reality, not realizing how long she had been staring at you until she heard the start of a new song.

You slowly made your way to her, carefully slipping past the few students who stood in your path to reach Larissa, whose eyes never strayed from yours once you had finally reached her.

"You look so–" Larissa stopped herself to clear her throat and fix her posture, returning to professionalism once she remembered where she was. "You're late," She pointed out with a pained look in her eye. What she really wanted to say was how beautiful you looked, but she knew she couldn't with numerous students within touching distance. The last thing she needed was rumors spreading about the Principal and her assistant.

"Oh. . ." You attempted to hide your disappointment, but failed to do so. "I'm sorry, I was doing Enid's makeup and did Wednesday's hair. I must have lost track of time–"

"Y/N!" A familiar voice cuts you off, "I've been meaning to talk to you." Marilyn grabs your attention, earning a small scoff from Larissa that only you seemed to hear.

"About what exactly?"

The redhead went quiet, answering nervously with her eyes and glancing in Larissa's direction.

Larissa cleared her throat once more, taking a threatening step forward in Marilyn's direction. "I don't think I'm any of your concern, Miss Thornhill. Why don't you be a dear and make sure nobody spikes the punch, hmm?" Larissa tilted her head slightly while she plastered her best fake smile on her face.

"I–" Marilyn froze momentarily, stunned by Larissa's sudden change in mood towards her. "Okay. . ." She trailed off with her own fake smile, and walked towards the drink table, mind reeling from Larissa's actions. She had never seen Larissa act this way before, and her smile faded from her face when she looked back in your direction only to see Larissa had guided you to a more secluded spot on the opposite side of the room.

Before you had a chance to say anything, a slow song came on, Larissa's hand visibly twitching to reach for your own. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around you, pull you close, and sway to the soft tune with her, but she had to stop herself once more. She didn't think she'd be struggling this much when the dance had only just begun, but the way you looked at her with those big beautiful eyes, and looking the way you did, had her burning up on the inside.

You caught Enid out of the corner of your eye, dancing with her date, but completely focused on a different boy swaying with a girl in front of her. You smiled to herself, immediately catching onto that look. It was the same look you always gave Larissa.

"Larissa?" You question the blonde standing quietly next to you.

"Hmm?"

"Would you like to dance?"

"We can't Y/N, and you know that. It's unprofessional." She sighed, balling her hands into fists, irritated that she can't do anything with you in public. She wanted to show you off, she truly did. To show everyone that you were off limits. "I'm going to get some punch, are you thirsty?" She changed the subject as quickly as possible.

"Uh, no thank you."

She nodded her head quietly, a visible frown toying at her lips.

Just as Larissa walked away and out of your view, Marilyn had strided up next to you with an excited smile on her face.

"Wanna dance?" She asked when she saw you tapping your foot to the new faster beat.

"Are we allowed?"

"Oh, who cares! We deserve to have some fun after setting all this up, come on!" She chuckled, holding her hand out for you.

You attempted to look around for any sign of Larissa, but after failing to see the tall blonde, you turned your focus back to Marilyn and took her hand to guide you to the dance floor. Some old pop song had been playing loudly through the speakers as you and Marilyn quickly caught onto everyone else's dance moves, joining in with a few moves of your own.

Your hand never left Marilyn's, both of you laughing at the randomness of her movements before she twirled you around. You had just barely missed the heated gaze of Larissa when she arrived back at the spot she had momentarily left you at, only to see you out on the dance floor with Marilyn.

She had watched every spin, every touch, every laugh you shared with Marilyn. It should be her out there on the dance floor with you. She couldn't help but seethe at the thought of Marilyn swooping in to sweep you off your feet while she had left for only a minute.

Larissa's eye twitched ever so slightly when Marilyn had momentarily grabbed your hip, steadying you from falling after getting a bit dizzy from spinning around. The students around you cheering once a new song came on. At first you thought it was because of the favoritism towards the tune, but Marilyn telling you to look in the middle of the dance floor had you smiling like an idiot.

Wednesday was the center of attention when she started dancing with moves of her own.

"Oh my god. . ." You couldn't help but get a better angle of the scene unfolding in front of you.

Wednesday had pulled out dance moves you had only seen you do once before. It happened when she was much younger and your mom had decided to play some show tunes, Wednesday immediately lighting up at one of the songs that was playing.

"I can't believe she's actually dancing!" Enid called out from next to you, squealing with excitement at her roomie doing something that she herself likes to do.

"Me neither," You replied, smile never faltering as the younger girl ran to the dance floor to join in on the fun.

"It's almost time for the big finish," Marilyn grabbed your attention once the song had come to an end.

"We should go tell Larissa."

The redhead nodded at your words before both of you made your way back to Larissa who had her arms crossed from watching the two of you dance.

Marilyn either didn't notice Larissa's stance, or chose to ignore it, but you caught on immediately, noticing how she basically bore daggers into Marilyn as she spoke to her. The redhead had moved the three of you closer to the DJ booth so she could give the man the signal that it was time for the main event.

All the students ran to the dance floor in a large crowd to give their all to the last song of the night. Marilyn decided to join in, dancing her way through the crowd while the popular pop song played, leaving both you and Larissa alone. The blonde had visibly relaxed once the redhead left, happy that it was just the two of you once more.

You could feel the heat radiating from the taller woman next to you, your pinky finger just barely grazing her own, and watching a small smile slowly spread across Larissa's face at the little gesture from you. She couldn't resist any longer, and interlocked her pinky with yours, both of you standing close enough to hide the small touch from the dancing students in front of you.

You swore you could feel something drip onto your forehead, but chose to ignore it, thinking it was just your sweat at how hot it was in the room. But once you felt the same thing happen again, your brows knitted in confusion and you went to swipe at your forehead. Larissa's smile slowly faltered when she peered down at the red liquid on your fingertips, thinking you were bleeding until she saw the same red liquid drip onto your shoulder, then something fall onto her face right after.

You looked around, only to see the same red liquid dripping from the ceiling all around you, covering students and faculty in the unknown substance. You froze when the liquid only came down faster, most students running from the dance floor to get out of the room. Your eyes then landed on Wednesday who had licked her finger with a smile on her face, you following suit and discovering that the red liquid was in fact paint, and not blood that you assumed everyone else thought it was. And that's when you snapped back to reality, when Larissa suddenly let go of your finger to scream.

—

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[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Falling (In a Different Way)- Hannigram x OC

Hannibal Lecter x Celine Lennox x Will Graham

Description: After hearing news of Hannibal and Will’s deaths, Celine has a hard time learning to heal. However, she receives quite a shock when she goes on vacation to Hannibal’s home country. 

Word Count: 2.3k

Celine felt herself go numb when Jack, Alana and Bedelia told her the news. While in Italy, they had teamed with her fiances Hannibal and Will in order to kill Francis Dolarhyde. Once he was dead and gone, they were ready to go home until they turned around in time to see Will push both himself and Hannibal off the cliff that they had just previously pushed Dolarhyde off of. They attempted to look for the men, but they were nowhere to be found. They’d been washed away by the sea. She never even got to tell them goodbye. 

“Is there anything we can do for you, Miss Lennox?” Jack asked gently. That caused Celine to snap out of her stupor, though her ears were still ringing a bit, and she shot them a polite smile. 

“No, it’s okay. Thank you for coming by,” she responded simply, standing up and leading them to the door. Jack looked like he wanted to protest, but one look from Alana told him that now wasn’t the time. So, the trio wished her farewell and walked out. Celine watched the car pull out of the driveway and disappear down the road before stepping back inside. 

After closing the door, she had no reason to stop the tears from flowing. She hadn’t even realized that she had let out an agonizing scream until her throat began hurting. Sobs racked her body as her knees buckled from under her. She fell to the ground, continuing to bawl her heart out as she attempted to stop this anguish from entering her heart. 

Her breakdown lasted hours. By the end of it, Her cheeks were raw from continually wiping her face, her throat was raw from screaming, the house was trashed and her hands were bloody, from what, she didn’t know. All that she knew was that the loves of her life were dead, and she was broken from it. 

Two years went by in a blur for her. She was nowhere close to being healed from what happened, but she was managing just fine. Just a few days after being informed of their deaths, Celine was visited by the boys’ lawyers, telling her that she had been left everything in their wills and that the guys said they were sorry. She was angry for a long time after that. Neither Will nor Hannibal had told her where they were going nor what they were doing, but they had time to transfer everything in their will to her? They said it would be too dangerous for her to go, so she stayed like they’d asked. Look where that got her though. 

Eventually she understood why they did it, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. They were still dead, and she was still alone now. She still lived in the same house, not having the heart to sell it and move somewhere else. It held too many happy memories for her to just give it up.

After spending two years in Maryland alone, she decided to go on a vacation. Hannibal left her everything in his will, that included his estates in Italy, Cuba and Lithuania, any one of those would be perfect. She just wanted to get out of wet and cold Baltimore, and sunny Lithuania was possibly the best option for her. Alana was happy to see her finally get out of the house, and Jack and Bedelia knew this would be good for her. 

Within a week’s time, she was bringing her stuff inside Hannibal’s house (it felt weird to call it hers, so she just didn’t). Thankfully she made sure that the cleaning people would come by at least once a month, so the house was practically spotless. The first thing she did was go shopping since she knew logically that the fridge and cabinets would be empty. She was happy to converse with the people in the market as she shopped, learning a few key words in Lithuanian in case she’d ever need it. 

When she returned home, there was a bright smile on her face. She’d only been here a few hours and she was already beginning to feel at peace. As she walked into the kitchen, she couldn’t help but stop in the doorway as she looked around. Were there pans on the stove before she left? Her eyes widened when she heard a noise coming from upstairs. Someone’s here with her. 

As quietly as she could manage, she set the bags down to the side so the intruder wouldn’t know that she was home yet. She tiptoed into the kitchen and grabbed the biggest knife that sat in the set. The footsteps upstairs began making their way down the stairs, so Celine took that as her cue to hide behind the doorway as a plan formed in her head. 

She waited with bated breath as the intruder reached the bottom of the stairs. They began walking towards the kitchen, and she took a very quiet deep breath. This is it. It’s now or never. The footsteps grew closer, and she finally saw the person appear in the doorway, despite it being dark. Without a second thought, Elena swung her arm out and clotheslined the intruder, getting him in the neck. He grunted and fell back, but was quick to swing blindly in the dark. Celine successfully managed to duck it then kick him in the gut, smirking when he recoiled from it. 

Unfortunately, she wasn’t expecting a second intruder to be there. She cried out when the second person yanked her hair, moving her away from the first one. The first one managed to land a punch to her cheek before practically tackling her to the floor. Her head hit it and she let out a small groan, but didn’t give herself a lot of time to stay still before she put the knife in her hand to good use. She swung blindly, but managed to get the guy’s left arm before it was wrenched away from her. He couldn’t do much with it before the second one turned on the lights. He lifted his hand to stab Celine, but both froze when their eyes met once they were lit up by the kitchen lights. 

“Celine?” He questioned, looking shocked. 

“Will,” she breathed out, eyes wide. Her head snapped to where the second guy stood, not believing her eyes. 

“Hannibal?” The man in question’s eyes were wide, though there was a calm expression on his face. Celine couldn’t stop looking between the two. 

“You’re alive?” That’s all she could come up with. But it wasn’t possible. They fell off a cliff, they were dead. Jack couldn’t find them. The thought made her laugh, which confused the men in front of her. 

“I see what’s going on here,” she stated. Will and Hannibal shared a look before facing her once more. 

“You...do?” Hannibal questioned slowly, walking over to her. Celine nodded her head with an amused smile forming on her face. 

“I’m hallucinating again,” she explained, pushing Will off of her. “Bedelia said that this may happen again since I’m going to a place connected to you two.” She stood up and brushed herself off, beginning to walk to the living room where her bags were. “She very kindly gave me some Nuplazid specifically for this. All I have to do is take some and the guys will disappear like you do every time.” By the end of her sentence, she seemed to be talking to herself rather than the guys. 

“Bedelia?” Hannibal repeated as he and Will followed the girl. She ignored his question and dug through her bag, pulling out the orange bottle. After shoving two pills down her throat, she took a deep breath then closed her eyes. They snapped open just a moment later when Will grabbed her hand, and she yanked it away. 

“Why haven’t you gone away? You're supposed to go away, you always did before. But you’re still here, which means…” she trailed off, looking between them. “You’re alive.” Neither man had an idea of how she would react, but they definitely weren’t expecting Celine to slap Will across the face as hard as she could. It was enough to make him stumble back from her and he held his cheek in shock. 

“Celine-”

“How dare you,” she hissed, cutting off Hannibal’s sentence. She reeled back and delivered a punch to him as well, though he didn’t react as much as she would have liked, so she kept hitting him. 

“You two died! You left me alone!” She yelled between hits. “You left me in that stupid big house thinking that it was my fault! I thought that I lost you two forever!” 

“Angel, we-” 

“SHUT UP!” She screamed at Will, already feeling her throat constricting as tears welled up in her eyes. “Neither of you talked to me for two fucking years! Two years of agony, of feeling numb and dead inside! Two years of wishing that I had fallen off that cliff with you two! You don’t get to talk now!” She attempted to push Hannibal away from her, but his hands shot out to grab her wrists. Because his grip was so tight, she couldn’t pull away no matter how hard she tried. 

It wasn’t until she felt like her wrists were about to dislocate that she finally stopped her assaults and collapsed into a heap of sobs. Her knees buckled beneath her, and she allowed Hannibal to lower her to the ground as she continued to cry. 

“You left me,” she whimpered out, barely having enough breath to do so. She had no strength to do more than sniffle as she sat there, her tears rolling down her cheeks less frequently now. Finally, once her sobs had turned into sniffles and stray tears, Will crouched down beside them. 

“Can you please listen to us now?” Hannibal asked gently as his fiance pushed some hair out of the girl’s face. Though hesitant, Celine finally offered him a single nod. She was genuinely curious about their explanation. 

“Maybe you could clean me up while we talk,” Will suggested, glancing at his arm, still bleeding from her slash during their fight. Once again, she nodded then allowed Hannibal to help her up. 

“Dolarhyde was dead and defeated,” Hannibal said as he watched Celine pour some hydrogen peroxide onto a rag from his place at the stove. “But Will had previously told me of Jack Crawford and Alana Bloom’s plan to kill me after we killed Dolarhyde. They finally figured out that I was the Chesapeake Ripper and Will was also a serial killer.” 

“We had to think of something quick while they were distracted,” Will continued, pausing to hiss when Celine pressed the rag to the cut. She offered him an apologetic smile, to which he grinned at. 

“Anyways, I remembered seeing a cave in the cliff while sea fishing a few days ago. If you planned it right, you could land on a small ledge just below the cliff’s edge then slide the rest of the way down to the cave.” 

“We stayed there until we knew for certain that Jack, Alana and Bedelia were gone. After that we had to swim to shore so we could get our injuries checked out,” Hannibal added, flipping the stir fry in the pan. “The FBI knew what we were, and we couldn’t give them even a single hint that we were still alive, we had to make them think that we were dead so that we wouldn’t be taken into custody. That meant having no contact with you.”

“Jack was suspicious that you were in on the killings,” Will said as Celine began wrapping a bandage around his arm. “He would be watching you for a while after he returned to the FBI. We couldn't risk him finding anything so we couldn’t let you know that we were still alive,” he grabbed her hands, which made her stop and look at him. “It killed us to do it, it hurt worse than anything we had to endure up to that point, you have to believe me Celine,” he concluded, staring straight into her eyes so she knew he was genuine. The girl sighed and her gaze fell to the floor. 

“I hate that I can’t be mad at you guys,” she muttered. “I don’t think I’m ready to forgive you guys.” 

“There is a difference between forgiveness and accepting an apology,” Hannibal said, throwing the dish towel over his shoulder and setting the pan to the side to cool a bit. He faced the duo then leaned against the counter in front of him. 

“Forgiveness is to pardon or excuse someone for what they’ve done. Accepting an apology is to acknowledge that they are trying to atone for what they’ve done. If you don’t think you can forgive us quite yet, then what you’re saying is that you’re at least accepting our apology.” Celine hummed in thought, then looked between them. 

“It’s no excuse for the pain you caused me, but I’m grateful that you guys apologized. So yeah, I accept your apology. You’ve got a long way to go before you can earn my forgiveness.” Hannibal let a small smirk grace his face. 

“I expected nothing less from you, my brangioji (darling in Lithuanian),” he responded smoothly. “But for now, let us be happy that we are all together once again, hm?” Celine couldn’t help but grin, she liked that idea. They seemed to understand that because Will led her to the living room while Hannibal grabbed the food. All three of them knew that she would forgive them sooner rather than later, but the guys were still willing to wait as long as it took.

[vanillann]

guitar club meets on fridays- (e.munson x gender neutral!reader)

i. ii. iii.

eddie munson masterlist

WC: 1k

based off this request!

I was going to murder Eddie Munson with his own kitchen knife. Who did he think he was? Forgetting your anniversary because of a board game.

I stood outside the classroom, my foot idly tapping the beat to I’m on Fire while Dustin Henderson’s screams echoed off the walls.

We’ve been together for a year, a whole year of waiting for DnD to finish and band practice to let out. God, why couldn’t I come first, at least on our anniversary, but here I was as a bunch of underclassmen yelled and Eddie’s giggles filled the empty halls of Hawkins High.

After a few more minutes, the laughs died down and Wheeler's kid came tumbling out with the brightest smile you’ve seen on him.

“(Y/N)! Why didn’t you come inside!” Mike stood in front of you, gentle brown eyes and you wished it was Eddie standing before you with concern.

“Wasn’t welcomed,” I frowned down at the cheap red tennis shoes on my feet. Mike said nothing, feeling the awkward tension and making a run for it.

Dustin didn’t even say goodbye until he was running behind Mike, obviously feeling awkward.

Dustin didn’t even say goodbye until he was running behind Mike, obviously feeling awkward.

Dustin didn’t even say goodbye until he was running behind Mike, obviously feeling awkward.

“Do you realize it’s October 5th?”

“Yeah,” Eddie shrugged, attempting to reach out to me but i quickly stepped back.

“Do you know what you were doing a year ago today?”

“No,” Eddie looked almost shocked I would ask.

“You 're doing me! For the first time I might add!”

I watched the shock overcome his face, his hands finding the roots of his curls. That son of a bitch truly forgot, it wasn’t some funny joke, he simply forgot our year anniversary.

“No, no, no!” Eddie rocked on the balls of his feet, readying to reach out for me again but he must’ve thought better.

“You seriously forgot?”

I couldn’t hide the quiver in my voice as I watched his panic state. He didn’t have some secret date planned, he simply forgot something he knew was so important to me. He put DnD before me, again.

“I’m sorry! Why don’t we go to Pops and grab a burger or something,” that stupid perfect smile stretched wide across his face but it only made my blood hotter.

“No, I’m not some last minute plan Eddie! Just go home, I’ll see you later.”

No kiss or hug, I simply stormed from the stuffy building. My heart had been punctured by the knife of his negligence. I had been mentioning to him the whole week about today, telling him directly to be free so they could spend some time together, and yet here we are.

DnD always won, I didn’t even realize it was a competition until now. He’d always pick that little group of middle schoolers and a few upperclassmen over me, without fail. If he wasn’t with them, he was spending his time at band practice with the same upperclassman as before. Never did I fit into that schedule unless someone was out or sick. I was number three and as selfish as you sound, I wanted to be number one just today.

I wanted his hands to be all over me even when it felt inappropriate, I want his words to shower me with candy sweet compliments. I want to be number one today, but I was just a last minute burger plan.

How much more depressing could I get?

Days passed in a blur of anger, Eddie and I not speaking once within that time. He had all the time in the world for DnD and the band. Eventually, I stumbled upon the metalhead leaned against my sand colored Toyota with a little “I’m Sorry” within the dirt in front.

“You wrote it in the dirt? That’s going to wash away when it rains,” I didn’t even get a permanent apology.

“I thought it would be romantic!” Eddie’s hair was messier than normal and his purple underage bags made me almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

“Thought wrong,” I mumbled under my breath, finally stopping before him. His body covered my driver side door and I wanted to shove him right into his apology and leave.

“Okay okay, but I think you’ll like this part,” he pulled a fresh sheet of paper from his binder, which shocked me. Eddie Munson holding a binder with paper in it? Looking down at the page I felt my frown only grow deeper.

Guitar Club

Meets Every Friday Night at 7

No. Matter. What.

“Another club! This was what we were justin arguing about Edward!” My hand went out to push him lightly, but a quick side step quickly revealed my car or more likely what was in my car.

A lovely black electric guitar sat in my driver seat, a small price tag still attached but the total scribbled out with black ink pen.

“We’re both doing this club,” Eddie’s breath tingled against the lobe of my ear. His body hovered over me, and I wish I could stay mad at him but I was short circuiting.

“I don’t want to join some stupid club watching me play an instrument I don’t know,” I huffed again, turning to face him and I missed those eyes.

The eyes that would watch me walk on the sidewalk with concern when a guy passed by. The eyes that made me love him. Stupid windows to the soul bullshit.

“We’ll the instructor,” he gestured his arms up and down, “already closed admissions. I saved you the last seat, the only seat.”

He made a club for me. He bought a binder for me. He printed a fake flier for me.

He bought me a guitar.

He loved me.

“You can’t buy me a guitar every time you screw up, you know.”

“Yeah, my wallet is well aware of that fact.”

I opened the driver side door and ran my thumb over the strings, enjoying the tang of metal on my fingers.

“So does this mean I’m fucking my teacher?” My eyes were bright, almost as bright as his. Almost.

“Oh I love how you think.”

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

Established Relationship Fluff | Smut

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

the request:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Embarrassed, you speak, voice pitched higher than normal from the shock and excitement coursing through your body. However, he stays put, leaning against the door as he drags his eyes up the expanses of skin afforded to him; that is, until you pull the plastic curtain to cover yourself and run your free hand through your hair, tilting your head ever so slightly in order to urge his eyes to meet yours. You wait for his response as you brush the wet strands back from your face, but it never comes, him instead choosing to stride towards you and send you a pout before pulling petulantly at the shower curtain, trying to coax you to let go of it. Raising an inquisitive eyebrow, your grip loosens and he can barely hold back his excitement when you really do let go, tongue peeking out for just a second before he hooks his lip between his teeth.

Throughout your relationship with Daryl, you learned he loved looking at you, gawking at and admiring each angle, birthmark and curve until you felt heat flush through your body. Even before the two of you got together, his gaze stuck on you, longing and soft when you weren’t looking, only hardening if your eyes ever met his. Each time he saw you it was like he was still in disbelief that you were his, forever suspended in the wide look he had when you first confessed to him, hence why you didn’t pay much attention to his stare as you moved to pump out some shampoo. You didn’t really know why he was in the bathroom and he made no effort to tell you, but you were here to clean yourself. So that’s what you’ll do. He’ll probably leave sooner or later after making sure you weren’t hurt anywhere, anyways.

The way the light from the lantern bounced off your glistening skin made you look like some sort of goddess. Like an otherworldly being he shouldn’t be looking at. Or like a succubus, sinfully tantalizing, except you didn’t know what you were doing to him as you raked your hands through your hair again, bubbles forming already between your fingers as you scrubbed. Shit, this was way better than he expected, and he’s gladly taking in everything it was offering. Shifting his weight, he clenches and unclenches his fists - commanding himself to keep them at his sides - but then you turn around, allowing the water to rush down your back and his resolve withers away as he tries not to envy the path along which it’s falling.

Soon, the little space between the shower curtain and the ceramic tiling isn’t enough for him. He needs to feel you against him, his trembling hands and suffocating boxers egging him on like this was the first time he’s ever seen you naked. Clearing his throat, he urges himself to move, building his confidence which had seemed to dissipate nearly immediately as you locked eyes with him. What he wanted to do wasn’t sweet or affectionate, and even though he knew you would tell him if you didn’t like it, he just didn’t really want to risk even doing something you didn’t like in the first place.

“Sorry I, uh, I’ll go rinse out my hair somewhere else. Here, I’ll get out so you can-”

This was it. He had to act now or he’ll lose the opportunity. Running his thumb across his bottom lip, he watches as your hand reaches for the shower valve, but your movements and voice stop when Daryl shoots his dominant hand out, the calloused skin wrapping around your wrist in a warmth that makes you snap your gaze to his. While firm, he never applies enough force to hurt you - he knows what kind of men there were in this world, and he didn’t know what he would do if you ever thought of him like that. On the contrary, the feeling of his fingers around you is welcome, especially after what felt like years away from him. Giving him that same inquisitive look, except this time laced with a small smile, you can tell by the way he’s gnawing at his lip that he has something to say. Something that has him hesitating in a way you’ve never really seen him hesitate before, well, besides the first time you both kissed.

“Actually, mind if I join ya? ‘Cause ya see, the other shower don’t work and there’s this girl - my girl - she’s amazin’, but she doesn’t let me into our bed ‘til I shower and I’m damn tired.”

Oh.

Noticing the way you tense up slightly at his suggestion, he offers more, another reason to sway you into accepting as if the pursuit of his little fantasy would both begin and end with what drops from his lips. This definitely felt more daunting, like a much larger leap than him asking for permission to kiss you.

“I also heard showerin’ in pairs saves water.”

Oh.

Yeah, you get why he was hesitating now.

Honestly, Daryl really couldn’t give a fuck about the water he was talking about. What he had in his running mind had little to do with his environmental footprint and more to do with feeling your skin on his and the image of you coming undone for him. He hasn’t been home - been with you - in what felt like weeks, and he thought the generator could stand to work a little harder after running for one person for a few days. With a slight upwards twitch of his eyebrow, you can feel what little apprehension you had leave your body and his heart pounds in his ribcage with the anxiety of what’s to come. At least, he thinks that’s why its beating at 100 miles per hour.

It surely can’t be the residual hormonal anticipation or excitement from his youth.

“And who exactly did you hear that from?”

The slight joking edge to your voice causes him to smile, but it’s a mischievous one, one that holds promises and sends a shiver through your body. Daryl really had no clue what he did to you when he looked at you like that, his piercing blue gaze hitting you as his head tilts down almost sheepishly to the grip he has on you.

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a glint residing in them that draws you to look at nothing but him as he runs his thumb along the bone of your wrist. With a tilt of his head, he speaks, muttered as he gnaws once more at his lips and lets go of his hold.

“It matter?”

So nobody, probably.

The amusing thought sends you shaking your head ‘no’ as you smile, pulling open the plastic curtain in invitation while trying to suppress the idea that just popped into your head. Daryl just wants to shower and the only reason he wants to shower with you is to fulfill that promise he had made. Because he just wants to go to sleep. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, he’s hopeful that you would be watching him - and he’s fully prepared to make a show of stripping his last piece of fabric - but he’s sorely disappointed when he sees your eyes closed in an attempt to keep the bubbling shampoo from burning at them.

Why weren’t you looking at him? Was he not overt enough?

Wow, he really wasn’t very good with… whatever it is he’s trying to do, huh?

You shuffle forward from the steady stream and he takes that as his cue to step in, gladly placing his body just a few inches from yours and sighing in relief when the water hits his sore muscles. The sounds don’t go unnoticed by you, and your heart sinks a little with each suppressed groan of pain Daryl lets out. He always worked so hard for Alexandria, and they still treated him like somewhat of an outsider, questioning his true intentions with harsh looks when he even so much as walked too close to them. But they didn’t seem to mind him much when they were eating the animals he hunted, though, and that sent your blood boiling.

Turning around, you try not to let your gaze drop too low as you place your hands on his shoulders, frowning when you feel the stiff knots that have burrowed their way underneath his skin. Almost immediately, Daryl submits to your touch, an all too familiar warmth bubbling in his heart as he, too, turns and exposes his scar ridden skin to you, allowing your thumbs to rub circles into his upper back. He always loved this - the domesticity of these moments, the wordless communications, your love and affection directed solely at him - and he’s starting to forget the real reason he crashed your shower in the first place, lulled into relaxation under your nimble fingers and the water beating down on his overworked muscles.

“Does that feel better?”

Your question warrants a response landing somewhere between a grunt and a groan, but then you laugh and he swears his heart swells tenfold. He missed hearing that. Even if you got embarrassed of it sometimes, or hid it muffled behind the palms of your hands, he loved hearing it. Because you glowed when you did, your eyes crinkling up at the corners with a smile that almost always brought him to his knees, and perhaps almost selfishly, the knowledge that he doesn’t want to be away from you any longer dawns on him - as well as the knowledge that it’s inevitable that he has to leave again soon. Whether it be with Aaron or Rick, or some of the poor bastards that piss their pants whenever they see him.

When you stop your ministrations, he feels himself frowning as you tap him once with your thumbs, but he elates almost immediately when you speak promise of a better massage come morning. He’s slightly ashamed of the way his whole body lights up in goosebumps in anticipation, but it’s not unwarranted. Spending late mornings with you was something Daryl never knew how the hell he had lived so long without, and they were his favourite types of mornings by a long shot. Especially when it ended up more often than not with you on him or him on you, the both of you thankful for the misfit house you had all to yourselves and away from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears.

“You’re too damn good to me.”

But he deserves it, you think to yourself, He deserved to be cared for like this.

His praise drips with a softness he didn’t even know he was capable of until you came along and Daryl turns back around to face you, smirking lopsided when he sees a shy smile worm its way onto your face. He had to have known what he was doing when he said stuff like that - especially when he used a voice like that. Seriously, how long had the two of you been together? It felt like an eternity already, but he could still make you flustered from a simple compliment. Shaking your head, you rest your wrists at the nape of his neck and use the leverage to pull his lips to yours, thumb swiping at the blood dried at his cheek and hoping the distraction of your tongue on his will keep him from teasing the warmth crawling up your neck.

A ‘hm?’ noise falls from him, small and surprised as his eyebrows raise for just a moment before his hands loop around your waist by instinct. When you pull away, another noise falls from Daryl, but this time it’s more disappointed than anything, and he chases your lips with his bottom one jutted out, taking full advantage of the strong arms he has wrapped around you. Holding you in place, his eyes plead with the now perfected ‘one more’ look you’re all too familiar with and you can’t bring yourself to deny him - he knows you can’t. Closing his eyes and puckering his lips as he waits patiently, he hums when you finally kiss him again, his satisfaction vibrating down to the hollow center of your collarbones before begrudgingly letting you go when you pull away again.

The water runs a brownish red from the dried walker blood being washed off his body and he scrubs furiously at his arms, trying to gauge the right move that will get your thighs shaking and your moans bouncing off the ceramic tiles he’s seen less than he’s willing to admit. Should he just… go for it? Just pull you against him and push you up against the walls he wants your noises to echo off of? No, he should come up with a better idea. You deserved a better idea.

Running his thumb along his jaw, Daryl sneaks furtive glances at your body - who the hell he was hiding them from, he didn’t know - and picks even more skin off his chapped lips as he watches you twist at your waist ever so slightly to comb through your hair. Swallowing down his spit like some teenager, he watches your shoulder blades protrude and disappear, intently following the droplets of water as they fall along your neck and down the muscles you’ve developed. He had to hand it to the sorry rich prick who had designed this house because, all things considered, they did a pretty good job; there was just enough spread of it between the two of you to pass as a decent shower. Even if you or him had to oddly angle yourselves to warm a cool patch of skin.

Reaching towards the shampoo bottle, his arm brushes against your waist almost feather-light, but it sends a shiver through you, rattling your ribs and making your cheeks flush all the same. Daryl lingers for a moment longer than you expect, his body leaning as he stretches over and you think he’s going to step forward - wrap you up in him - but dutifully, respectfully, anxiously he stays put. You want his touch, especially after nights alone with only the scent of him on his side of the bed to keep you company, and, having caught a quick glance at his straining boxers before he joined, there’s little room for doubt in your mind that he wants you. But still, it exists.

Your own arms begin to sore when he finally pulls away, his hands now raking through the hair he seemingly never wants to cut. Clearing your throat, you turn around, eyes screwed shut as you face Daryl, fearing for both the shampoo you’re washing out stinging at your eyes and the fact that if you looked at him, your gaze would probably drop. God, was all it took just a few days without him to have you craving him like this? The close proximity coupled with the knowledge he’s standing next to you naked makes you tense up before a shiver runs up your spine, your thoughts causing your breath to hitch for barely a second. Despite your efforts to suppress it, your subconscious prays that he picks up on the little noise. Please let him pick up on it.

And he does, ever observant as he connects the dots, the initially surprised look on his face melting into a small anticipatory smirk before he all but races to lather his hair in the coconut - or was it grapefruit? - scent. This was good. This was damn good.

He dares take a step forward, tentative, testing out the waters as if he was unsure of your desire, but he knows he can read you, and that he can do it well. This was when he should do something, right? The subtle confirmations - a tense, a shiver, a hitching breath - beg him to. Under the streaming shower, Daryl impatiently scrubs at his scalp, teeth hooked permanently atop his lip as he watches the rivulets of watered-down shampoo catch along your skin, his fingers and mouth itching to replicate its path down your neck to your chest. He knows that path well, and perhaps that’s what makes him even more envious.

Thank God for the fact you’ve closed your eyes because if anybody saw Daryl right now, they would take a step back, maybe even several thinking he was angry. How could they not when he was glaring at you as if you had done something horrible? It’s a surprise to him, the fact that it seemed like you really could not feel the burn of his stare, but then a thought pops into his lust-fogged brain. Maybe you did know. And maybe you were toying with him, playing coy and pushing him to a teetering edge, letting him taste the tension on his tongue until he could hold back no more.

To say he’s impatient is an understatement. He isn’t simply impatient, no, he’s impatient. He wants to do something. He wants you to do something, to initiate the flurry of hands and lips he’s craving so desperately and, seemingly blind to that triad of signals, he scrubs frantic at his hair in an attempt to control himself. As he rinses out the shampoo, he manages to cling onto what little restraint he had over his body until you turn back around. It was like the universe was egging him on, trying to break his resolve by showing him those dimples on your lower back, reminding him of the way he gripped them when he took you that night before he left - and it works. Jesus fucking Christ does it work.

Daryl’s body crowds you then, muscular arms wrapped around either side of your waist and rough hands palming at your chest before sliding down to your stomach, pulling you flush into him while he grinds his hips experimentally against your body. The feeling catches you off-guard, eyes widening in surprise as you let out a gasp into the steam of hot water and you grip harshly at his forearm, attempting to steady yourself from the sensations blossoming from your thighs. He can feel them tense and begin to snap closed against him, but you hear the corners of his mouth twitch upwards with satisfaction.

“What- what are you doing?”

Restless, his fingers travel downwards, hooking a strong thigh between your two legs as he ignores your question, them parting immediately to accommodate him. Daryl’s veins thrum with adrenaline, feeling the all too familiar effects of your warm skin when he realizes you’re letting him do this - enjoying him, even - your hands pawing at his to beg him to speed up, to bring you that nirvana he loves to be the reason for. Heat flushes your body, knowing full well what he’s capable of, but despite it, your skin erupts into goosebumps under his touch, desperate for more.

“What’s it look like ‘m doin’?”

Your neck comes under his affection next, his lips meeting it as he mumbles the words against your pulse point, tongue darting out when he feels it speed up. Almost methodically, Daryl finds the marks he’d left days prior, darkening them with unadulterated determination and rolling his hips against you once more. The heavy motion draws a whine from you, short and needy as your nails dig into his wrist and he all but basks in it. God, this felt good. How the hell had he spent so long without you? Without your skin under his? Everything about you feels like a fucking drug to him.

“D-Daryl- what would your girl say.”

He smiles against your neck, a warm pride bubbling in his chest when he hears the slight shake in your voice. It always got like this when he was touching you, and he liked to think it was the anticipation raking through your body. All the possibilities he could bring to you. He loved listening to your voice as it was, but hearing it quaver as it bounced off the ceramic walls, mingled perfectly with the rhythmic thrum of water crashing against the two of you? It was almost alarming how quickly it made his head spin.

Submitting to your urging, he lets you slide his hands down to the apex of your thighs, groaning guttural into your ear when he feels your hips lift and rut into his touch, unintentionally grinding your ass onto his cock when you push yourself back onto him. Hooking his chin over your shoulder, you hear his breaths as he digs his palm an inch below your pelvis, thick fingers gripping harsh at your inner thighs as he nudges his further between them. It feels like fucking magic, whatever he’s doing, and a plea tingles at your lips before you bite it down. Daryl’s never been this bold, and this is new territory for the two of you. Very new. So you were going to let him take his time - let him explore every inch of your skin as if he didn’t already have it memorized - despite the fact every cell in your body screams for you to sink down on him right here and now.

His grip disappears too quickly for your taste, but before you can even register the decadent sear that marks his blunt fingernails and calluses, his palm makes home just below your stomach and he swipes two fingers against you, spreading you for him but avoiding that bundle of nerves you want so desperately for him to touch. An expletive drops from Daryl’s lips as he gathers evidence of your arousal, and the sound of him makes you claw at his wrist, your hands still blanketing his as you try to angle him to do something other than coat his fingers and smear you across your inner thighs. Amused, his middle finger curls, breaching you just until his first joint before pulling away, relishing in the way you clench as if trying to keep him in you.

“Hm, I dunno. What do ya think she’d say? I think she likes it.”

You can hear the self-satisfied smirk on his face as he feels your body react and you can practically see it behind your closed eyelids. Daryl knows all your buttons, every single movement that renders you down to a puddle of mush, but he’s avoiding them. His jaw clenches and unclenches as you buck your hips up to try and meet the talented fingers only getting further and further and further from you. Skin warm from the streaming water and the sheer amount of lust coursing through him, his left arm snakes upward, resting just under your breasts before pulling your shoulders flush against him. His teeth sneak out from behind his lips, grazing against that spot that made your thighs shake the first time you slept with him, and you become putty in his hands.

A gasp of Daryl’s name falls before a staggered whimper erupts from your throat, his hands moving so fast and sure along your body as if he had molded you to his perfection. Everything hits you at the same time, his sharp canines right below your jaw bone before they melt into the caress of slightly chapped lips, the hand at your chest palming and tweaking and toying like there was no tomorrow, his fingers swirling, nudging at that tiny bundle of nerves you’ve been silently begging him to touch just once, and you can’t stop the noises falling from your lips. No matter how much you try, they escape.

“Or d’ya think she’s too busy moanin’ for me to tell me?”

Oh, that fucking prick.

To make it worse, you can’t even bring yourself to be angry for that long because his voice drops into that low, husky whisper that makes your knees go weak. Had Daryl not essentially smothered you against his body, you just know you would be a puddle, pliable and aching after just a few days away from him. A jolt of pleasure rockets through you the moment you realize what he wants - to make you as desperate as he is for this - and you know he knows exactly how to get it. Biting your lip, you trap your sounds in your throat just to spite him and you dig your fingers into his forearm, seeking in any way to find another outlet for all the compounding stimulation he just keeps giving you.

Your heartbeat drums through your ears and you can barely register the growl against your skin, but the vibration of it is inescapable. He feels the crescent shapes already forming from your nails on his tan skin and he pulls his face from you, breath fanning your ear in preparation to express how disappointed he is at you robbing him of your noises, but you beat him to it, freeing the words that burn at your tongue to knock him off his high-horse. Daryl was never a very confident man, but fuck if it does not make your skin tingle.

“I think she’d tell you to- to shut up.”

The rebuke is futile, a stutter brought on by the push and pull of his deft fingers and he laughs. Daryl chuckles into your skin before everything from him detaches, only for him to grab at your waist and spin you around to face him, adjusting his hold to crowd you once more. Your back hits the ceramic tiles, a sharp whine escaping you at the contrasting cold, and you can see that smirk you had envisioned on his face when you open your eyes, taking in every inch of the swept back hair now falling into his face as he tilts his forehead slowly to yours. Running your non-dominant hand up from his arm to his face, you push the strands back, smiling slightly at the way he melts as his eyelids flutter shut for just a second. As much as he said he hated how damn soft you made him, he sought after your touch, your hands much too intoxicating for him to deny them.

You glow a ring of delicate orange from the lantern shining behind him, the light bouncing off your glistening skin and those sparkling damn eyes that shine with unguarded affection despite your ‘annoyance’ from just moments ago. Creating shadows over your body with his broad figure as he blankets you, Daryl nearly groans with delight at the image - the realization that you look impossibly better with the warm hue making his head spin. And when he remembers that you’re his to love? He tries to hide just how much it makes his mind run, but his voice comes spilling out without much thought, everything about you shrinking the filter between his brain and mouth that he so tenaciously keeps on during the day.

“That so? ‘Cause if I do then I can’t tell ‘er how much I missed her. Or what I was thinkin’ when I thought about ‘er at night.”

Daryl was already so worked up at the thought of doing this to you, you didn’t even need to actually do anything to him to have him throbbing against your stomach, begging to be touched after days of only imagined scenarios to keep him company. So you indulge him, tracing your dominant hand down the V-line of his pelvis and biting your tongue when his hips snap into your grasp, his grip at your waist tightening as he tries to still himself. He wants you to touch him, to let you give him what you want to give him and he tries his damndest to control himself, instead using his words to try and rile you up.

“Nothin’ I do feels as good as her. Nothin’ I’ve tried’s ever been close.”

Your whole body shivers at the insinuation, the ceramic sandwiching you to Daryl ceasing to feel as cold as it did when he first pushed you against it. He feels like centuries have passed when your hand finally wraps around him, running your fingers in a stroke that has him groaning and nearly keeling over you with how much that simple damn action makes heat pool in the pit of his stomach. Everything about this feels heightened, the steam of the shower failing in comparison to the heat pinging between the two of you. His eyes seek yours, cock twitching and catapulting him much farther to his climax than he would like to admit when he sees you watching your grasp, lips parted ever so slightly, pleading with him to lay his on them.

Heart thrumming in his chest, another groan of an expletive followed by your name drops from Daryl before his hips jerk forward, stuttering into your grip with no real rhythm as he pushes a rough kiss onto your mouth. When you let out a little surprised squeal, he pulls himself back immediately, as if shocked by his own lack of self-control, but your hand never stops, and your face leans closer towards his, the feeling of his ruined sounds vibrating along your tongue making you chase him. This must have been how he felt when he had you whimpering for him on those late nights and early mornings. No wonder you both loved them so much.

Twisting your other hand from the side of his neck to his nape, you pull him to you with equal fervor, the stroking of his cock forgotten in favour of his chapped lips turning into something more sinful with each movement of his talented mouth. His fingers begin to wander now, eagerly grasping at the two dimples at your lower back before his palms find all too familiar territory kneading and massaging your ass. Knees nearly buckling, you remember the leaking heaviness twitching in your grip and you nudge him between your thighs, your legs spreading just a bit wider as you inch him closer and closer and closer to where you need it most.

“N-no, wait- I gotta-“

His hands shoot downwards to still yours and he pulls his hips from you, his statement stuttered through a sharp, shaky breath. Whining, you nearly beg for him before you realize he succeeded in what he set out to do - and he was only gone four days, your subconscious chastises. Your head is swimming in desperation for him as you shake it, hair whipping into your face and onto the wall while you vehemently disagree with both his words and your own internal mocking. All coherent thoughts leave your mind, washed away in the stream of water running down your body and you come to the conclusion that you don’t fucking care if he would poke fun at you come morning, you need to feel him.

“Daryl you don’t need to- you can just- I can-“

You don’t need to keep-

You can just-

I can-

God, you sounded pathetic, your voice barely breaking above breathy through the heavy beating of water, and he loves it, it’s enticing him; he could die right now and he would feel nothing but satisfaction. Daryl was never a very confident man - well, with people at least - but around you, he felt wanted. Not just in moments like this when you craved him so debaucherously, but in moments when you would pull close to him while you were sleeping or hug him from the back. Just giving him your affection so freely and not expecting any back. It made his heart damn near break everytime he had to leave. Adjusting his grip on you, he digs his knee into the wall, perching you on either side of him and leaning closer and closer to your burning skin.

“Gotta get ya ready. Jus’- jus’ be a good girl an’ be patient. Don’t want ya limpin’ tomorrow ”

Despite his words, Daryl can’t help but think that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. It wouldn’t be so bad to linger beside you the whole day, a constant reminder of the real reason you needed him to get you things, or why you would grip his arm as a piss poor substitute for a crutch when the two of you walked along the street. Nobody else would know - at least, neither of you would ever tell - but the satisfied puff of his chest and the fact he stands just a little bit prouder might make them connect the dots. That, and the lovebites that creep out from underneath the neckline of your shirt which, coincidentally, only seemed to darken after he came back. Nah, he thinks to himself, it wouldn’t be so damn bad.

“I thought you were tired.”

There’s a hint of concern in your voice, peeking out from between the teasing and he grunts, acknowledging your words before his hands wrap around your wrists and urges them to loop around his neck. He knows he needs to do this, the action a silent beg for you to just relax and let him treat you right in the way you know he always will. With his neck flush in the crooks of your elbows, you tug him, pulling his face to yours and raking your fingers through his wet hair.

“Never too tired for you.”

His stubble scrapes against your nose as he mumbles his confession between kisses down from your forehead, a delicious burn leaving a trail that makes your heart beat impossibly faster between your ribs. Grip falling to your waist, Daryl’s rough fingers inch towards the apex of your thighs, but he moves them so fucking slow you're tempted to just reach down and push them into you like you intended to do with his cock. Before you can entertain the idea any longer, he catches your lips in a clash of tongue and teeth and knowingly smirks against your lips. He’s dedicated, attentive, and what kind of man would have the heart to deny you? He would do anything for you, all you had to do was ask.

Daryl eagerly swallows the moan you let out against his lips when his middle finger curls into you, the vibrations spreading along his tongue and consuming him from the inside out. Your thighs spread wider for him, welcoming him - no, begging him - for more and it riles him up almost comically well. Whether it was intentional or not, he would never know. He pulls his face away just inches, breath heavy against your parted lips before he sends you a small smile, an underlying mischief peeking out from the tiniest sliver of teeth he exposes. Leaning more of his weight onto his knee, his left hand travels around your waist to your ass, digging his dull fingernails into the flesh and pulling towards him, bringing your hips off the cold ceramic and snaking that arm into the curve he’s just created.

Before you can even brace yourself, he pushes a second finger in, curling languid with accelerating speed, revelling in the heat you bring him with an audible groan that reverberates off the shower walls. Already so desperate, the feeling nearly makes your legs shake under your own weight, but Daryl’s prepared - he could keep you up with the hand he has splayed across your upper back and he’s secretly proud of it. His mouth returns to you again, tongue surging to meet yours as if just the taste of your kiss would satisfy his desire to taste what’s beginning to coat down his palm.

It doesn’t, but it’s a damn good substitute.

Nails scratching pathetically at his scalp, your lungs beg for oxygen, but you ignore your body’s pleading for as long as you can. You need Daryl. Just him. Just him. His fingers are ardent, all of them pushing and pulling and toying and touching you in a way that skyrockets you into an overwhelming nirvana and it feels good. It feels so good to be with him again, surrounded by his scent and his heat, that you start to entertain the thought of begging for him. You try to do just that, but every sound coming from your lips is only absorbed greedily by his before you pull him away by his hair, taking large gulps of oxygen as he does the same.

Not even a second passes before you’re grinding down into his palm with pleas falling into the steam of the shower, all your words going straight down to his cock. Gritting his teeth, he growls at your desperation, lips shooting down along your collarbone before catching the skin between teeth. He has your whole body memorized, proof of that fact littered across your body in the form of lovebites, memories seared into your mind of his everything and it’s almost too much to handle. Almost. But you need more. And Daryl knows, much too perceptive in all senses of the word.

His left arm snakes up to your neck, the nape of it secured in a grip firm enough to pull your hips down onto his muscular thigh, spreading you and rubbing that sensitive bundle of nerves with his rough skin. Something between a swear and Daryl’s name chokes through your throat and he curls his two fingers just enough for you to repeat the sound, the movement perhaps pulling your hips forwards toward him. With the way you grind down so readily on him, it wasn’t easy to tell whether the roll of your lower body was from his fingers or the lust running through your veins. A satisfied smirk worms its way onto his face that you want to kiss off, but your head is stuck against the ceramic tiling by his hand tugging securely on your hair. Not enough to hurt you. Never enough to hurt you.

He can feel it now, the fact that you’re close, and it only makes him work harder. Maybe it was selfish of him, expediting your pleasure so he can finally seek out his, but he’s damn near shaking with the thought of finally being able to be with you in one of the ways he always wants to be. Sometimes Daryl felt like a teenager with all this certain enthusiasm he can’t seem to control with you around, but you had never complained - you made him feel alive in all the best ways - and he thanked whoever was pulling the strings in his favour for bringing him to you. Circling his thigh, he pushes everything he can up into you, the pressure making you feel like you’re floating. Fingers carding through his hair, your whole body tightens around him in a silent plea, and he's pretty sure he would have to be just about the biggest idiot in existence to ever deny you.

“Give it to me. C’mon, give it to me. Ya wanted my cock didn’t ya? Jus’ give it to me an’ I’ll make ya feel even better.”

Give it to me.

Give it to me.

Give it to me.

Daryl’s voice makes your mind swim, the growl rough and dangerous like everyone always tends to think he is, and incoherence drops from your lips, echoing against the confines of the walls as his breath fans your ear. Rutting your hips up to his hand, the knot in your abdomen snaps, the proclamation of it escaping you in a broken moan of his name. He can feel your body’s reactions before you start to get those familiar sparking waves of pleasure, the clench of you around him growing sporadic as he continues to unravel you with his teeth gritted, the unrelenting precision of his fingers sending you clawing and tugging at his scalp with no regard of your strength for just a moment.

His groan at the sensations edges out the haze of your climax and you immediately detach from him, pulling your body back from his so abruptly that he slips from you. Scrunching his nose in disappointment, his large hands cling at the back of your thighs, bringing your chest and forehead to his as if he couldn’t stand being apart from you for even just a few seconds.

“Sorry- sorry if that hurt I didn’t mean to-”

Face inches from yours, he shakes his head and cuts you off with a series of hungry pecks. One to your sinfully soft lips, then to the corner of your mouth, then one to your jawbone, devouring your apology right then and there as he overtakes your senses.

“‘S alright. It felt good.”

Then he kisses you again, urgent all the same, but he only pushes a firm brush of his mouth against yours. The movement is like a signature, as if it were his name scribbled easily along at the bottom of a letter - a soft possession that you wear along the tingles of your lips. It makes you claw at him again, tugging on the sides of his hips to pull him flush against you, fingernails digging crescent shapes he wants to see come morning, and your apprehension all but dissolves into the hot water of the shower. You were his, he was yours and in his mind, there was nothing he wanted more than for you to show him just what he does to you.

“Anythin’ ya do feels good.”

It’s stupid, how you could be in the middle of something so intimate and a simple compliment from him could leave you flushed from the neck upwards, but he loves it. He loves the little whimper you let out at his words and he smiles that lopsided boyish grin that makes your heart skip a beat. When he smiles at you like that, it makes you feel like the only person in the entire world. No walkers, no Alexandrians, no runs or patients at the infirmary to steal you or him away from the other. There was no one except you and Daryl - and it’s been too damn long since it was like this.

Body flush against yours, he snakes a hand down between his legs and the other grips at your thigh, hooking it around his torso and begging with a roll of his hips for you to rest your leg there. Each breath he takes sends a jolt of pleasure blossoming against your ribs, his skin rubbing against your chest so deliciously it makes your mouth fall open in silent pants of air. You don’t know when you closed your eyes, but they open when Daryl says your name, broken by a curse that falls somewhere after the first letter. He looks good like this - eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched.

Gritting his teeth, his mouth can barely form a coherent sentence with how much excitement is coursing through him, and he’s trying his fucking best to hold back from slamming into you until you give him a nod or a pull or anything, but then something in him breaks. The feeling of just having you so damn close worms its way into his brain and he takes himself in his fist, dragging along to gather the remnants of your climax and notches himself, all the while groaning from the heat emanating off you.

“‘S this okay? Need t’know if this’s okay.”

Slurred speech. It was so uncharacteristic of the Daryl everyone else knew - the Daryl who was so sure of himself, the Daryl who wore a permanent scowl on his face, the Daryl who was so mysterious, never speaking anything above a growl - and you think you could have laughed had it not been for the fact the words themselves dig up memories of all the times he had said them to you before. Every cell in your body lights up, high alert now that he’s in you, but he’s not moving. He’s not inching into you or filling you in the only way he can and you push your hips towards him, greedy movements making you swallow more of him. Taking a sharp breath, he lets you rut against him, but still, he doesn’t fucking move.

“God, Daryl- yes. Yes, it’s okay. More- more than okay.”

Sometimes you hated him, and then hated how stupid you felt for hating him.

He waits for your words. He always does. Without fail he checks on you before he slides into you. He never wants to take because he always wants to be good for you, but sometimes you wish he would. Sometimes you wish he would just take from you - take everything you have. There is nothing in this world that is not shared between the two of you. Daryl’s wholly yours as you are wholly his.

Curses drop from his lips, your name thrown in once or twice as if he’s reminding himself you’re real as he feels you around him. They fly out of his mouth like the bolts from his crossbow and ricochet off every wall as he begins to move, slow at first, experimental maybe with his hand secure against your thigh, then he starts building and building into a heavy, sinful rhythm. Shakily, Daryl groans, the breath he lets out tendrilling at your chin before he sucks frantically at your bottom lip, your noises meeting his as they hit the ceramic wall.

He wants to live in this moment forever; immortalize the way you look and sound on one of those VHSes, write the damn date on it, and hide it away for his and your eyes only so it’s rewatchable and revisitable and reliveable. It's not enough to just sear you into his memory like he’s done so many times before because you’re damn near perfect. Like you were made for him - for him to give you everything he wants to give to you.

“Fuck- fuck- you feel better’n I remembered. How’s‘at possible?”

The words escape him, rushing out as if you’ve put a spell on him, and they almost escape you, too, your pulse beating in your ears. But he’s so close to you, growling out through gritted teeth into your ear and pushing his lips to the curve of your jawbone like they need to be on your skin. He pulls his body away, chest leaving yours, and you pull at his waist to bring him back, whining lewd for him and only him, shameless and betraying the blush you feel as you register his stutters, but he doesn’t. Instead, Daryl smiles, that same damn grin with his teeth hooked along his bottom lip and eyes hooded as he watches every change in expression. You groan, half in the way he rolls his pelvis just enough to rub against that small bundle of nerves that beg for him, and half in annoyance at the way that lascivious expression seems to make every electron in you buzz.

“Shut- shut up.”

He lets out a sharp breath, a singular amused ‘ha’ following it, cock hardening and twitching even more at the fact he’s making you blush like that first night he had lavished every inch of your body with his lips - like you didn’t deserve every single damn word escaping from him. Leaning his weight against his left forearm that lies on the side of your head, Daryl brings his face to yours, nipping at your lips and seeking your tongue before he starts speaking.

“You should see yourself like this, y’know. Fuckin’ perfect for me.”

For a man who only ever growls and mutters, he certainly liked to talk a lot when he was pounding into you the way only he knows how and you’re just so damn unbelievable for him. For him. You’re his to love and it sparks something within in him that makes his tongue fucking run and his hips speed up involuntarily. Hell, you probably heard more of his voice in this shower tryst than the whole first nightwatch you had with him. You’re not even sure the water is beating down onto you anymore because the heat of your body makes the shower pale in comparison.

The sweat accumulating on his back and chest and everywhere is washed away almost immediately as it forms and you’re grasping for something to hold onto. Clawing, you wrap both your arms under and around his shoulders and scratch desperately at his back, grinding up against him and making jumbled noises of moans and Daryl’s name when he drags against that spot he knows so well. It’s skin on skin, the ceramic wall ceasing to feel cold as you screw your eyes shut and let yourself mount and mount with each roll of his hips. You hear a nearly feral growl, feeling your leg being hiked up higher by the elbow hooked underneath your thigh, and a loud noise breaks from your throat when his thumb swipes where his cock meets you.

“C’mon, we ain’t got all night.”

You’re close and he knows it. It was like he was rubbing it in your face, the fact he could make you like this - how quickly he could reduce you into the incoherent, ruined state you always seemed to become for him. Attentive. He’s always attentive. You can tell by the way he’s memorized everything that makes you shake and capitalizes on them, thrusts coupled with the tight circles pulling you closer and closer to that precipice of pleasure, but he says those words anyways, hoping to get a reaction from you. Daryl’s not an impatient lover - he would spend hours buried in you if you let him - but he’s so damn close and perhaps almost selfishly, he wants to watch you succumb first. He wants to watch the water race down your body as you writhe for him against the wall, and he wants that to send him over the edge.

“Then- then do better, Daryl.”

You bite back, your breath grazing against his neck and a wet heat rushes through him, making him groan nearly wrecked as his hair tickles your cheek. Reaching behind his muscular body to his shoulder blades, one of his large hands is more than enough to wrap around both of your wrists and he takes them in his grasp, moving them until they’re secure against the ceramic wall behind you. You’re warm for him. Pliable for him despite the veil of distaste in your voice and he can’t get enough of it.

Daryl’s so fucking happy you bite back.

His hips stop and you let out an almost childish cry, but he stays buried deep, filling you up to the brim as the water beats down on the both of you and holding you against the tiles by the weight he’s pressing from where you meld to him. His face is so close to your ear now. So much so that you can feel the breath when he speaks, a dangerous growl resounding through your body before his teeth graze along your neck.

“Hm? I ain’t never heard a complaint from you be- before. That a- fuck- are ya challengin’ me?”

An expletive drops from Daryl’s lips when you clench around him, no doubt from the sudden crash of your mounting pleasure, and he pushes impossibly further into you, firmly pinning you down until he knows you won’t be able to move anymore. He wants to show you he can stop at any moment, that he can make you work for it, but you both know he’ll give in. Maybe you didn’t know the extent of which you have him wrapped around your finger, but if you even knew half of it, you would know he would never stop. Not when he was so desperate for you he can barely think of anything except the way you look and feel. At least, not unless you wanted him to.

“Are you g-gonna take it up?”

Although your mouth ceases there, your brain runs, pleas tickling at the tip of your tongue, but you can barely manage to form the meager few syllables that have already escaped you. Eyebrows knotted at your forehead, you try desperately to coax more movement from him - a whine, a whimper, a thrash of your pinned hands flattened by his strong grip - but Daryl’s so damn still and it’s driving you crazy. When your body settles for only ragged breathing and shaking thighs, he takes it as his cue to lean down, lips brushing yours in a kiss that’s so affectionate you forget that, just moments ago, he was relentlessly pounding into you.

“Don’t know. Seems like you might be wantin’ it more’n me.”

Smiling against your mouth, he pulls away just enough to speak. A challenge in his words so obvious to you that you try in vain to buck your hips to his. If he didn’t sound so good and look so good and feel so damn good, you would have denied it, but you’re strung so taut, so close to the peak, that you can barely form a retort. A stupid, handsome smirk rests on his lips as he waits. Patient. Like it wasn’t affecting him, being buried in you. He’s just waiting for your words - goading you as he watches from underneath his lashes.

“Daryl, I swear to God if you stop right-“

The insincere threat is enough to spur him into action. Partly due to the fact you sound so desperate and ruined for him, and partly because he just needs to feel you again - he would lay you down and take you the way you deserved on the bed come morning, but right now was a different matter entirely. Swearing, his smirk drops in favour of a scowl, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he snaps up into you in quick succession. The hand at your thigh is roaming now, massaging and palming wherever his nimble fingers can worm their way onto before it splays across your ass, using the grip to pull your body impossibly closer to his. Daryl would have made you beg for him - he wanted to - but he can’t stop himself. Not when you look so pretty up against the wall and you’re taking his cock so well.

“Been gone four days an’ you’re already so damn needy.”

Whether that statement was directed at you or himself, you would never know.

An abashed whimper escapes through you and you want to deny it, perhaps just to see what would happen, but you can’t. You can’t because Daryl’s right. He knows he is, and you know he is. You thrash your arms so you can touch him, feel his skin underneath your fingers, but his grip around your wrists keeps you firm against the ceramic tiling - just enough to keep you pinned so he can admire the way you squirm for him. Grunts and groans of your name escape from him with each thrust, the feeling of your body melded to his much too intoxicating for him to keep his mouth shut.

“What, you embarrassed now? Wanna cover your mouth? Keep them noises from me when you’re soundin’ so damn pretty? Ya better not be thinkin’ about it. ‘Cause ya damn well ain’t gotta.”

Daryl tilts his head, eyes squinting in faux-concern and mocking you as his hips relentlessly hit up into yours, pushing out the breath from your lungs which escape in tantalizing gasps with each roll. You’re so close, and the only thing you can do is moan at the sound of his rough voice, the coil tightening in your abdomen because of his determined thrusts. You just need a little more - just a little more - and he reads you like a book.

Without warning, the hand pinning your wrists frees itself, his finger pinpointing back between your thighs with an unadulterated eagerness to pull your climax from you and you damn near cry out Daryl’s name as you claw at his back. It’s like second nature to him, the way he can touch you and make you crumble for him. Practice does make perfect, and he’s always been a persistent man.

“Ya sure as hell weren’t when you were bein’ a brat.”

Everything he’s doing to you is almost effortless. It makes your legs shake and without warning, your thighs tense up, a white hot surge of pleasure erupting from the base of your stomach and you gasp a broken moan of Daryl’s name as you clutch at his neck in an effort to keep yourself from collapsing onto him. He holds you close, chest pushed up to yours and breathing ruined into your ear as he works you through your climax with dextrous fingers, chasing his own as his rhythm begins to falter. Sporadic thrusts meet each flutter of your clenching warmth. until he can’t hold out anymore.

Screwing his eyes shut, a stuttered chanting of profanities mixed in perfectly with pleads of your name fan out from his mouth and he pulls out, rubbing himself harsh against your thigh before your fingers wrap around his cock. Fuck, Daryl nearly crumbles right then and there, a ragged groan rushing from him before his hips jerk upwards to your touch - nothing could even compare to it and he thinks nothing could ever come close. Nothing except you. Pulsing in your grasp, both of his rough hands dig into either of your thighs and he stills, teeth gritted as the evidence of his pleasure hits your stomach before being washed away in the steady stream of water.

Satisfied, you smile and lean towards him, your head coming off the ceramic wall, and he parts his lips immediately for your tongue, but you pull away after giving him a quick peck. Scrunching his nose, Daryl pats lightly at your thigh for your attention and seeks your lips once more, moving his with the same amount of overwhelming love and affection he always does. It makes you feel warm inside, like you were the only one in the world for him. And you were. At least, in his mind you were.

He releases the grip he has on your thigh and slowly lowers it, his hand still ghosting close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off his body. Both legs still shaking slightly, your foot hits the floor of the shower and you lean your weight on it, tentative and experimentally at first before you overestimate its security and half-fall-half-stumble into him. Daryl notices, of course he does, and he swallows down the pride welling in his chest as his sure grasp steadies you against his body.  

“Hey, hey, I got ya. Jus’- jus’- I got ya.”

By instinct, he speaks, the rumble of his chest against yours making your heart well up with the familiar fondness you always experience when it comes to him. Daryl wasn’t a man of many words even though you had managed to break him out of his shell a little - at least with you - but there was no doubt in your mind that he genuinely and wholeheartedly cared about you. In his eyes, you had strung the stars into the sky and he always treated you with a softness he never thought himself capable of.

With one hand on his waist and one on his shoulder, you use Daryl as a crutch, continuing to lean your weight on your legs until they cease to shake. When you can stand on your own, albeit with wobbly legs, you link your fingers in both of his and meet his protective gaze - alert as if prepared to catch you again if your body gave any type of signal. He smiles when he sees the expression on your face and brings your knuckles to his lips, pressing a firm kiss onto the back of each of your hands before letting go and reaching for the bar of soap you two had ignored in exchange for something more riveting.

“Here, let me- I’ll help ya wash up.”

It meets your shoulder and it’s cold as he trails it down, lathering your right arm before moving across your chest and to your left. Smiling at his concern, you hum, nodding your head and content at the feeling of his tenderness as he continues to dutifully run the suds down along your body. Daryl unabashedly goes about copping a feel or two when his hand just so happens to fall onto your chest or your ass, a boyish grin meeting your quirked eyebrow when you question his intentions with a look. If you actually, truly cared to ask him, he would say he was helping you wash your body and making sure he was doing it to the best of his ability - quality assurance or some shit like that.

He helps you lather, too, calloused fingers rubbing off dead skin much better than yours could as he focuses the showerhead on him. You laugh when he pulls you into him, water streaming down your body along with his hands as the bubbles wash off your body and you run the bar of soap along the broad expanse of his shoulders, doing your fair share of subtle… touching too. Daryl all but melts into your caring hands, revelling in the way your attention is solely focused on him before he grunts, as if signalling you to look at him. When you do, his hands loop around your waist, head tilted to one side as he gingerly rubs those little shapes he always love to draw onto your skin.

“Y’alright? Was, uh, was that alright, I mean.”

Allowing you to maneuver him under the shower, he begrudgingly lets go of you to rinse off all the soap and feels genuinely clean for the first time in what felt like days. Smiling, you respond, saluting playfully and laying a small peck onto the corner of his lips before you spin around, pulling the curtain open just enough to reach for the towel lying just a few inches away on the towel rack but still keeping the warmth from the water in.  

“Yes, sir!”

His cock twitches at the name, betraying the slur of fatigue in his voice and he sighs at himself, turning the shower knob off and opening the curtain fully, reaching for his own towel that hangs next to yours. He always did feel like a teenager when it came to you, and usually he didn’t mind it, but he really was tired before this and his back is killing him, so maybe another time.

Drying your body, you turn your head towards him and smile before making quick work of your wet hair and stepping out, pulling your underwear on from where you left it on the bathroom counter. It’s a small smile, one fully innocent and only ever reserved for him, but that look makes your words replay in his mind. A shudder runs through him as he tries to ease a smile onto his face too, admiring the scene of you for a moment. It’s domesticity, showing him a homelife he could actually feel loved and safe in; reminding Daryl something like that actually existed for him.

He imagines meeting you in a different world, wooing you like you deserved through coffee dates and Radiohead concerts, not through killing reanimated corpses or guarding Alexandria’s walls together, and his whole body calms down.

But then you pull on a shirt that’s much too big for you - one of his shirts that you said you liked wearing because it smelled like him - and he swallows his spit as if he hadn’t seen you naked just moments ago, a familiar shudder running through him again. Definitely another time. Near future, preferably.

Hopefully.

“You coming?”

Your voice breaks Daryl out of his daydream and he grunts an answer, smirking at the joke that just popped into his head as he replies with a curt ‘I just did’ and catches the pair of boxers you throw at him in response. Rolling your eyes, you comb your fingers through your hair and try to dry it as much as you can with the towel before reaching for your toothbrush. He follows suit, dressed in only his boxers as he brushes his teeth and shakes his wet hair at you like a dog, causing you to whip water at him off your fingertips after you wash off the excess toothpaste dribbling at the corners of your mouth. Smiling internally, he spits, tasting mint on his tongue that he'd much rather replace with the taste of your lips, even though he knows full well you’re just as minty as he is.

“Thank you.”

Meeting his eye in the mirror, you give him a confused look, eyebrows raised in an expression he thought was much too cute on your face for your own good. Your hands don’t still as you continue to rub out the water in your hair, determined not to go to bed with it too wet and risking it to clump up and dry tangled.

“For lettin’ me, uh, do that.”

His naturally gravelly voice clears up, turning slightly more timid than you were used to and you notice the shift in his behaviour. He avoids your gaze, waiting for your response as he fiddles with the lantern he now has in his grasp, unsure of what you would say and you decide your hair is dry enough. Hanging your towel back onto the rack next to his, you grab his free hand and lead the two of you back towards the bed, smiling affectionately as you turn off the lightsource and place it onto the nightstand. Wide-eyed, Daryl stares at you, as if waiting for you to tell him to leave - that you hated what he had done - but you break him from that train of thought as you slip under the covers and welcome him to join you.

Relief washes over him and he happily climbs in, groaning at the feeling of your body next to his and he succumbs to the comfort of the mattress. Pushing yourself into his side, his arms automatically open for you and he swears he could cry when you brush your thumb against his cheekbone and lean up to him.

“Anything for you.”

He feels the words as you whisper them just inches away from his lips, and he relishes in them when you pull away from the quick peck and dig your face into your pillow, closing your eyes and just looking so at peace. You’re so close to him Daryl’s in awe and he can’t help but stare. Wanting to hold onto the feeling of his skin a little longer, your finger draws a little heart over where his beats in his chest and you speak again, voice so warm and sincere.

“I’m glad you’re home.”

Home. That’s what it is to him now, too.

“Glad ‘m home too.”

With a final kiss laid on your forehead, Daryl echoes your statement and pulls your body closer into his. A small smile tugs at his lips and his arm slings lazily at your waist before he, too, closes his eyes, allowing himself to fall into the lull of sleep.

It was good to be back.

Back to a home he had made with you.

──── ⋙ 

@daryldixonluv @pulplorrd @fuseburner @hells-mistress @maria--grey-blog @marylimlp @pncnsc @tinachristeen @hail-yourselves @whimsicallymad @just-always-tired​ @phoenixblack89​

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[astaroth1357]

I don’t know if this’ll make the cut, but brothers with an MC wearing their (the brothers) clothes, and I’m talking full ensemble not just a random jacket or accessory (you can delete if you’re not comfortable of course)

So when left with the question of whether this was a full on clothing theft or a cosplay of some kind, I'm going with theft because that's just funnier to me. Just a little MC marching around in Beel's tent of an outfit… Hilarious. 🤭

MC Steals the Brothers’ Outfits

Lucifer 

It started out like any other morning, Lucifer woke up early in bed - as he always does - but when he rolled onto his side to stir the MC, he found their side of the bed empty… 

Normally, he’d have thrown up the alarm in an instant, but his mind was still groggy as he tried to recall what happened the night before… He could have sworn the MC slept over… unless…

MC: “Good morning, love.”

Their voice was enough to get him sitting up again and he uh… well he was not prepared for what he saw. The MC was sitting with their legs crossed at his desk, attempting to imitate his “I’m-in-Complete-Control-Here” energy as much as they possibly could, but with an added detail…

They were wearing his clothes. His favorite suit to be specific which was tailored to his much bigger frame, resulting in a frankly ridiculously ill-fitting look on their smaller human body...

MC: *picks up a poisoned apple off the desk, continuing their very best Lucifer-impression*  “You should get up, love. We have an early meeting today and we can’t keep Lord Diavolo waiting.”

The MC appeared to polish the apple with his sleeve for a moment before taking a bite, looking pleased with themselves before their eyes widened in complete horror. It only took a split second for them to spit the unchewed hunk of apple into a nearby waste basket and toss the apple away in panic.

MC: “Ah FUCK!! I forgot I can’t eat these!!! SHIT!!”

Their panic only grew as Lucifer could no longer hold in his laughter, the booming volume of which is enough to wake up all his brothers throughout the House.

MC: “Lucifer, don’t just sit there laughing!! Bring me some water or something!!! LUCIFER!!!”

Mammon

Look, Mammon always gets up late so not being able to find, like, any of his normal clothes was a serious problem! He’d already dug through half his closest and still couldn’t find anything!!

He had a photoshoot that he had to get to in less than hour and he still needed to take a shower, get dressed, get his stuff together, then bolt halfway across town before-

MC: *literally kicks open his door Kuzco-style* “Yo, yo, yo!! What’s up, Mammon??”

First off, the sudden loud bang of his door hitting the wall nearly scared him out of his skin, but before he could even yell at the MC for their weird entrance his brain had to process what they were wearing….

Good news! He found his missing clothes, the MC had thrown them on while he was sleeping - sunglasses and all - and now stood before him with a toothy grin on their face.

MC: “What's the problem, Mams? Lucifer got your tongu-EEEK!”

Apparently, they weren't expecting Mammon to literally lunge at them and capture them in a tight hug, practically lifting them off their feet with a laugh.

Mammon: “What'cha think your doin', MC?? I'm gonna need those back ya know?”

MC: *laughs loud and bright, throwing their arms around his neck* “I know, I know... But I wanted to surprise you!” *stops laughing suddenly and blinks* “Huh…”

Mammon watched the MC experimentally lift his glasses off their nose then put them back down, repeating the action several times before snickering.

Mammon: *frowns* “What's so funny?”

MC: “Nothing really but… Mammon, do you wear these just to make everything look like gold?”

Mammon actually had to pause before responding, pulling the MC closer with a devilish grin.

Mammon: “Nah… I ‘cause got all the gold I need right here~”

MC: *chuckles and nuzzles his cheek* “Nice save...”

Mammon: *his cheeks flush and he frowns* “I dunno what your talkin’ about... But could ya go put on a t-shirt or somethin’? They’re paying me big for this shoot and I really gotta go!”

Leviathan 

Another convention, another cosplay far too complex to ever hope to peel out of… Though Levi would never regret wearing his five piece Lord of Shadow cosplay, it’s a heavy thing and certainly not something he can change out of in a bathroom stall…

When he finally got back to the House, he wasn’t looking to do anything but drag his tired body back to his room and change into some more manageable clothes… but… well…

When Levi opened his door, he saw the MC sitting alone at his computer desk playing a game by themselves. That was all well and good but… WHY IN DIAVOLO’S BLACK HELL ARE THEY WEARING HIS CLOTHES???

When they heard the door, the MC whipped their head back and they both stared at each other in an awkward silence… His clothes didn’t even fit them right!-or maybe they did?? His mind was panicking because they had the collar of his shirt covering their mouth and it looked so moe it was actually ridiculous!

Levi: ……….

MC: ………….

MC: …. “I can explain.”

Levi: ……. “Y-yea?”

MC: “I was having trouble on this one level and you wouldn’t pick up the phone… so I thought ‘What would Levi do?’... and it escalated…”

Levi: “You think??”

Levi felt like he could die right there, but he wasn’t entirely sure if it was from embarrassment or happiness… On the one hand, the MC was  literally trying to be him in order to get better at video games - which was flatteringly adorable… And on the other, the MC is pretty much cosplaying as him, right in front of him… and looked so damn cute doing it too… 

MC: “Is this weird…? This is weird. I’m sorry, I’ll go change-”

Levi: NO-agh! *he throws a hand over his own mouth, surprised by how loud he just shouted* … “U-uh… no it’s fine…”

MC: “Okay...?”

MC: “But could you put your phone down? I think you’ve been taking pictures for the past two minutes…”

Levi looked down at his hand and sure enough he unconsciously pulled out his phone in camera mode and has been spamming the “Capture” button long enough to have his thumb cramping...

Levi: “Oh.” *stops for a moment, then seems to second guess himself*

Levi: “Uh… just one more?”

Satan

When you share a house with Mammon, you grow accustomed to not being able to find things from time to time, but an entire outfit?? 

When he woke up one morning to find that he couldn't find any of his normal clothes, he blamed Mammon right off the bat… 

I guess in hindsight, what would Mammon want with his jacket? But anger doesn't always jump to the most rational conclusion, you know?

After searching for "long enough," Satan stormed out of his bedroom on a warpath. He didn't stop his march until he was banging on Mammon’s door with a closed fist!

Satan: “Mammon!! What did you do with my clothes you useless, money-grubbing asshole!?”

When he didn’t get a reply, likely because Mammon was hiding in his closet or something, he was about to kick the door in when he felt a tap on his shoulder...

When he turned his head, much to his surprise, he found his missing clothes!... They were on the MC - right down to the single sleeve - and the MC met his eyes with a mischievous grin…

They had a book in their hands he recalled seeing once at the library: "101 Ways to Prank Your Partner," open like they'd been reading down the hallway.

MC: … Page 47.

They winked at him before bolting back down the hallway in a fit of giggles and oooh, it was on now.

Satan spent the morning chasing the MC through the House, both laughing and dashing around in reckless abandon. He really needed his clothes back and he wouldn’t mind an extra hour or two with the MC when he got them… 😏

Asmodeus 

Asmo isn’t exactly a morning person… Though he forces himself awake so he can perform his wake-up routine, by the time he comes to the table it’s a hit-or-miss on how irritable he’s going to be...

Of course, his favorite outfit suddenly disappearing from his massive closet did not help his mood in the slightest!

Who would take his clothes?? Well, that’s not even a question - surely plenty of his devoted, adoring stans would kill to even have his scarf, so maybe the better question was, “How??” Lucifer keeps all the doors and windows magically sealed at night! (He would know, having been locked out on numerous occasions)

Asmo was tearing through his closet, wracking his brain for any place he might have left his beloved outfit, before he heard someone clear their throat by his bedroom door.

What greeted him was a lovely look at the MC wearing the missing clothing in question, even with all the grace and style he would himself!

Asmo: *jaw-drops* “MC???”

MC: *smirks at his delight and winks at him* “Looking for something?”

They strutted into the room with the confidence of a mock fashion model and took a silly vogue pose in front of the closet, barely holding in a fit of laughter from their actions.

MC: “… Or just at me?”

Asmo, of course, snatched them right up in his arms with a delighted squeal.

Asmo: “Oh. My. Diavolo!! MC, you look just gorgeous!!!- Because you look like me, of course.” 🤭

MC: *laughs and cups his cheeks to pull him closer* “Who wouldn't want to be you, Asmo?”

Asmo: “So true… But you’re already perfect, my love~” 😘

And he went on to prove that to them all morning long...

Beelzebub 

Beel didn't even get the chance to notice his clothes were missing. He had a tournament the night before and was sleeping even harder than Belphie that morning...

What woke him up was the smell of food: scrambled shadowhawk eggs, hellboar bacon, pancakes with nightshade syrup…. 

Beel's stomach had him sitting up long before his eyes ever opened, drawn in by his nose alone.

MC: “Beeeeel. Wake up!”

Beel's eyes dragged open at their request and what he found had his mouth watering... The MC had brought him a dining cart with a complete breakfast spread, brimming with portions only Beel could ever finish, but for once he wasn’t looking at the food.

The MC, for whatever reason, had decided to put on his clothes… And keep in mind that Beel's built like an ox compared to almost anybody. They were absolutely swimming under all that fabric (thank the Devil for his suspenders…) 

MC: “Congratulations!!!”

They throw their arms up excitedly, making the unzipped jacket balloon out like a parachute behind them… It's a remarkably cute image.

Beel: *blinks* “Oh.” *he gets a little pink, still very confused* “What did I do exactly…?”

MC: “You won the championship last night, remember? Or did you forget already??”

The MC takes a step to the side and begins pointing at the plates on the cart.

MC: “I thought we'd celebrate with some breakfast! I brought you eggs, bacon, pancakes, toast, cereal-”

As they continued their list, Beel's hand naturally reached out towards the cart eagerly, before something finally clicked in his head. WHY were they wearing his clothes??

Beel: “Wait. MC, why are you wearing-...?”

MC *holds their hand up* “Hold on!”

MC: “-oatmeal, muffins, banana bread, annnd…” *they get onto the bed and plop down onto his lap with a grin*

MC: “Me! Congratulations, Beel!!”

They lean up to peck his cheek while his arms automatically wind around their waist. The combination of their scents already bringing out a different sort of hunger in him…

Let���s say if this is his reward, he'll never lose a game again. 😏

Belphegor 

Belphie was in the middle of his afterschool nap in the library. The day was exhausting, so he didn’t even bother changing uniforms… The couches there were comfortable and the space was quiet, really nothing should have woken him up...

But somehow, for whatever reason, something did. A tug… Something was chasing away his dreams by tugging on the cow pillow in his arms.

MC: “Beeelllppphie….”

The tugging did not cease and he half growled in response, still keeping his eyes firmly closed.

Belphie: “What now...?”

MC: “I need this…” *they tug on the corner of the pillow a little harder* “Can you let go please…?”

What kind of question is that?? No one takes away his favorite pillow!

Belphie: *hugs the pillow tighter* “Go away, I'm trying to nap…”

MC: “Noooo please…! I need it for something right now…!!”

They started really pulling on his pillow now and he only held on tighter in annoyance. Since they wouldn’t leave him alone, he finally opened his eyes.

Belphie: “MC! Why are… you..?”

His voice trailed off as he finally saw the MC standing there in his usual outfit. His cardigan was so long over their arms that they had to grasp his pillow through its sleeves...

While his drowsy mind tried to catch up, the MC snatched the pillow from his grasp with one swift yank.

MC: *grins* “Mine now!”

They turned to bolt out of the library, but Belphie snatched them by the waist and dragged them back to the couch with him.

Belphie: “Fine, but then I get a new pillow.” 😏

The MC yelped as he flopped on top of them, pulling them close like a body pillow and resting his head into the crook of their neck to enjoy the soothing smell of their scent mixed with his.

MC: “W-wait Belphie…!” *tries to wiggle out from under his surprisingly heavy deadweight* “I was just playing around…! Please don't fall asleep on me!!”

Belphie: *yawns and settles in, already drifting off* “Too late… G'night, MC…”

MC: “Belphie!!!” ����

They could complain all they liked, he wasn’t going to let them go for a few hours. Cute or not, MC, nobody takes his pillow!

[tteokdoroki]

countdown | k.bakugou + e.kirishima.

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou, eijirou kirishima  x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 6.1K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: college!au, fluff + smut.

♡ summary: with the new year finally approching, your boyfriends figure out the perfect way to start the countdown.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, pwp ( characters aged up to twenties ), drinking, mentions of alcohol, poly!kiribaku, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it y’all ), oral sex ( female recieving ), fingering, choking, dumbification, degredation, double penetration, daddy!kink, master!kink, creampie, cumplay. guys it’s a lot idk what to tell you brrrrr. 

♡ author’s note(s):  um this is like 8 days late but happy new years y’all, first fic of 2021 and it is a Wild one !! this kinda goes with along with my christmas deku fic, you don’t have to read it but it gives some context!! thank for all your love and support, stay safe babies <33

♡ masterlist | requests

“don’t look so nervous, shitty girl.”

your gaze flicks up  and to the left of the rim of your tainted red solo cup, a pretty mauve stain coating the outer edge.  you can see bakugou moving in your peripheral vision, slender body resting against the counter in the kitchen you’ve hidden yourself away in— outside a new years party bustles away, so full of life that you’ve struggled to become a part of.  it was supposed to be a small gathering, a few of your boyfriends’ mates were getting together to see off the awful year after finals and tears and mishaps.

you were excited, you’d spent some time with the group before and were stoked to get to know them a bit better— but the idea had quickly been scrapped when kirishima’s roommate turned the tiny event into a full blown goodbye bash. so now your social anxiety was through the roof and you could hardly think about enjoying yourself.

downing the rest of your... well whatever the hell it is...you shift to face the blonde with a slight scowl.  “i’m not nervous, katsuki.” you half growl in an attempt to keep the explosive blonde away, but crimson eyes with mischievously sparkling irises only roll once, your lover can read you like an open book— and for that you hate him... but only just.

“yeah?” katsuki hums, turning to corner you against the worktop. forgoing your empty cup, your free hands instantly settle themselves on your boyfriend’s hips— the material of his black skinny jeans rough against your palms, sneakily to thread fingers through his belt loops to tug him closer and barely feel flustered by the half lidded gaze bakugou gives you. “if you’re not s’nervous, then why the fuck are you hidden away in here?”

it’s your turn to send your eyes rolling, to which katsuki catches and gives you a gentle nip to the cheek. “i’m not hiding either, i came in here to get a drink for kiri— hey! don’t look at me like that.” the rest of your words fall flat in a whine you don’t mean to set free, bakugou grinning like a maniac above you. his eyes sparkle at the hint of your lie as if he can see right through you, which again... you hate. out of the two of your boyfriends; the blonde was able to pick up on your behaviours slightly faster than kirishima— you put it down the quick reflexes and his complex for wanting to be first at everything but that didn’t make him any less annoying.

in response, bakugou bites down a little harder on your fleshy cheek, pulling you closer by the waist so that your legs wrap around him from over the counter. “a drink that kiri already has, baby? stop lyin’, you loser,” he mumbles into your skin, making you huff. “talk to me.”

“fuck you, but fine...” whining again and with a slight buzz of alcohol to your veins you tilt your head before bakugou can affectionately chomp onto your cheek again and attempt to steal a small peck from him. your love only denies you of this pleasure, at least until you tell him the truth. “okay, okay. i’m in here hiding ‘cause there’s too many people and i’m afraid i’ll be too nervous to talk to your friends.”

“‘m feeling burnt out katsu, there’s so many more people here than i expected and i’m worried that your friends might not like me s’much anymore...”

bakugou smirks, running his tongue over the top row of his pearly whites and you cross your arms in defeat.  “you’re so fuckin’ stupid, yn.”

“fuck you! right up your stupid little ass—“

your blonde boyfriend raises a brow which silences you quickly and makes you wriggle in annoyance. “you’re stupid ‘cause our friends aren’t gonna stop liking you for gettin’ shy— there’s a lotta people out there that aren’t exactly kiri or i.” you perk up at the mention of your latter partner which makes katsuki smile and release you. “just relax. they love you, we love you...let’s just say goodbye to this fuckin’ shitty year, okay?”

you nod and watch as the male moves away from you to fix you both another set of drinks while you adjust yourself to go back into the outside world. the kitchen stays quiet compared to the bass blasted music that echoes throughout the dorm halls, giving you time to grasp at feelings of anxiety and attempt to soothe them— you promise yourself to leave all of the negative feelings behind and focus on making happy memories with your friends. bakugou breaks you from your thoughts and hands you another cup filled with a drink you recognise to be your favourite, he doesn’t speak however and leans back against the worktop to drink his own beverage.

you’ve always liked that he gives you room to think and make a note to show your appreciation later on. your boy’s love language was always through actions and hardly ever words.

but your bubble of sweet silence is soon burst when one of your partner’s friends darts into the kitchen, a look of excitement dancing brightly across pink lined features. her amber eyes land  on you first and swiftly find bakugou after causing a smile to break out against her features. “ohmygod finally, i was wondering where you guys got to! come on, the countdown’s about to start!” you quickly place her name to be mina, remembering her voice from the last time you’d met and offer her a sweet smile in return as her hand reaches out for yours. you take it.

bakugou tsks; clearly irritated but pushes himself off of the counter and follows behind you motherless, mina dragging you in the direction of the living room. somehow she effortlessly weaves you through sweaty bodies of students from the floors below and practically tosses you to the sharks that can be named as your boyfriends’ pals. luckily, your katsuki is right behind you to steady your hips while mina flops onto a couch with the others.

“there they are! two thirds of our favourite lovebirds...” someone to the right of you speaks up; you recognise her to be the roommate you’d walked in on when visiting bakugou’s place before christmas and relax a little. the girl was nice, affectionate and ever so sweet with you the first time you’d met. she curls up in the lap of another guy with green chair, who you presume is the ‘shitku’ or ‘deku’ your lovers had told you about, respectively.

speaking of, katsuki makes himself comfortable next to kirishima on his old loveseat from your hometown— you’d played rock paper scissors with him to keep it, but lost. you couldn’t complain though, the red heard rewarding you with a flurry of kisses in place of the old battered chair.

but with no room and the gang already taking up most of the couch, eijirou pulls you to sit on his thighs and wraps his arms around your middle before pressing a kiss atop your head. “missed you, where’d you go?” he pouts into your neck and fiddles with the frayed ends of your skirt, his free hand grasping at the drink he had.

“i was—“

“she was hidin’ in the kitchen; pretending to fix somethin’.” katsuki cuts you off, earning himself a glare from you and amused chuckles from others ( having pulled their attention away from the countdown on the television ). he attempts to snuggle closer to you both afterwards, making your red headed boy kiss his cheek. you could tell that your explosive boyfriend was feeling a little left out, he’d always doubted himself in the relationship the three of you had ever since he’d found out kirishima had you; his lover back in his hometown,  before college. but you’d loved kiri and couldn’t make him choose between the two people he needed most in his life, so despite the tears and drama...you’d learned to love bakugou as well.

you reach over to squeeze his hand but don’t miss the twitch of his lips into a smile while he watches the live countdown on tv.

kaminari; the blonde who sits at your feet pipes up next— cheeks red from the alcohol he nurses. “why were you hiding, doll?” he hiccups, earning himself a kick to he back from both bakugou and kirishima. “ouchies...”

“she probably wanted to get away from your annoying ass...” sero quips from across the group, where mina lazily toys with his jet black hair; causing bakugou’s roommate to snort and spew her drink in izuku’s face. as far as you were aware, the pair were living together in their apartment off campus and weren’t dating, but might as well have been. katsuki had told you sero was a coward but seeing them now made you think it was cute.

“fuck you, that’s mean!”

“ah, but kaminari my dear friend, it is true...”

a boy with dual eyes chuckles, himself and another figure join the latter male on the ground, hair ruffled and clothes clearly out of place. the girl blinks up at you with a sweet grin before turning to chat with the other girls while eiji fist bumps the male. you remember them as momo and todoroki respectively. bakugou’s roommate checks her watch quickly, a faux frown playing at her lips. “and you guys are done with fourty minutes to spare before new years , a new record...quite frankly, i’m impressed!”

it’s your turn to frown as the newbies blush and attempt to hide their faces. the rest of the group seem amused, sero and denki smirking between themselves, your boyfriends and izuku hiding embarrassed faces while the girls giggle and tease. you can’t help the next words.

“what were they doing?” you whisper innocently and mostly to yourself, unable to focus on the feeling of katsuki pressing kisses to your linked hands to avoid adding to the conversation. however; all eyes teeter over to you, making you freeze up and shuffle nervously in kirishima’s lap.

“fucking in the closet by the front door, they do it every year.” mina teases, causing your face to heat up while momo swats at the pink girl. “nasty right, yn?”

“quit it mina, you’re making her shy!”

you swallow hard and nod shakily, and swear you can almost feel the quiet groan that erupts from katsuki’s chest. “right...”

the group is clearly a little tipsy and you’re not quite drunk enough to feel eat ease with the antics of your lovers’ friends; but one thing lead to another and the topic of conversation lands on you. “maybe yn will get a little new years treat too—“ midoriya slurs somewhere off, by now he and his girlfriend alone have downed a bottle of vodka and cutely make out from time to time. and yet, your boyfriends both have different ideas, the hot headed blonde preparing to launch himself at izuku while the manly red head blushes a shade so deep it could rival his dyed hair.

“what’d you say, shitty nerd?”

it all happens way too fast and you can barely register bakugou’s sudden movement before it’s too late— his elbow jolts as he attempts to kill his best friend’s lover, resulting in eijirou’s drink being knocked clean out of his hand and all over your cute little shirt. you squeal and shudder as the cold liquid seeps right through the thin material, exposing your chest to partygoers and friends alike who cheer as the countdown locks onto thirty minutes until the new year.

kirishima jumps up right after you, shielding your exposed chest from his friends ( mostly denki ) who refuse to look away and leads you up to his room to change while bakugou barks out expletives at deku.

after all it was his fault that your cute tits were out on new years eve.

“what if she’s mad at us kiri? she was already feeling anxious about being here tonight and now—“

“she won’t bakubabe, she loves us and she’ll know it was just an accident, you were defending her honour after all...”

you choose this moment to push open the bathroom door of kirishima’s en-suite, having wiped away most of the beverage that had made your tummy sticky. luckily your skirt had survived his awful choice of rum and cola but at least you smelled nice. two sets of red eyes cast their gaze upon your form, naked apart from the cute pink bra that cups your breasts and tiny skater skirt that sits above your plush thighs.

the boys can already feel their mouths drying at the sight of you have exposed under the yellowing light of kirishima’s dorm room. your skin still shines with the reminders of alcohol as you make your way over to them on the bed, sitting between them with the aforementioned red head’s shirt in your hands.

instantly they shift closer towards you, absorbing your warmth as their fingertips graze your skin. “i told you guys i was fine, i know it was an accident.” you murmur softly, taking both of their hands into yours. “besides, i needed to get out of there for a bit, your friends are—“

“loud?” kirishima offers, kissing your knuckles.

“annoying?” this time it’s bakugou who speaks, shoving his face into your neck to hide from you, still apologetic. his soft blonde hair tickles your neck and you can’t help but giggle gently into the air. “you liked that.”

shaking your head, you pinch at his side and tug eijirou close enough for him to lean his head atop yours. “—they’re a lot, a lot to handle... i just need a little time to calm down before we head back out there.” briefly letting go of your boyfriends’ hands, you reach for the red band t-shirt sitting in your lap in order to shrug it on, but your red headed lover quickly stops you.

“i could think of a few ways to calm you down angel,” he mumbles lowly, so much so that you feel the sound ripple in kirishima’s chest but you’re too distracted by the sudden feeling of katsuki sucking gentle marks into the column of your throat. “we still have a bit of time before we hit midnight on the countdown, right bakugou?”

the hot headed boy only looks up briefly from your bruised and bitten skin, a devilish smirk crossing his lips while the boys work together to push you back onto the sheets. “damn right ei, say we got about twenty minutes to take her mind off things,” your body tingles at the way the talk about you as if you’re not even there, heat beginning to brew in the pits of your tummy. “so, keep the shirt off, won’t you baby?”

you release the offending material as if it’s burnt your palms, thighs spreading instinctively as kirishima’s hand wanders between them to smooth your soft flesh. “yes..., yes katsuki...”

“that’s not what we say, is it babe?” kiri scolds, slapping your inner thigh while bakugou leaves a trail of sloppy kisses that stop just atop your breasts.

“...i mean...yes, sir.”

“atta fuckin’ girl.”

your breath hitches at the feeling of katsuki’s finger tips wrapping around the base of your throat, his touch is delicate and compares starkly with the roughness of his skin— calloused from hard work and use of his quirk. eyes roll to the back of your head at that very thought, the idea that your lover could hurt you in the most delicious of ways using his explosive nature but you have little time to dwell on the fantasy as your other boyfriend moved to hover above your face, ruby red hair tickling at your forehead while he slots his lips against your parted ones.

kirishima’s lips are soft and bitter with the taste of rum clinging to every ridge and imperfection in the skin there so you reach up and weave your fingers through dyed locks in order to bring him closer. meanwhile, bakugou makes quick work of your laced bra— tearing it down to expose your nipples to the cool air they harden under. his hot mouth encapsulates the bud, rolling it between rows of sharp edged teeth in away that has your back arching for more. the blonde ravishes your chest teeth and tongue, while his freehand works on groping your other breast— both of the fleshy mounds being shown equal amounts of attention in different ways, making you whimper wetly against kiri’s mouth.

saliva pools on your tongue, collecting between you and your lover while his own explores the cavern of your hot mouth. the pair of you watch one another with hooded eyes as kirishima pulls away, nothing but a string on your drool connecting you. you swear that every nerve in your body lights up at once just at the sight. “katsuki, you should see yn’s little face right now,” he breathes weightily against your raw lips, hand coming up the squish your cheeks together almost painfully. “we’ve barley even touched her and she’s already looking so fucking fucked out.”

“eiji...sir, please...” you gargle at the mocking lilt to kirishima’s voice and let your hand slip from his hair to cup his wrist as he pinches at your cheeks once more.

but this time, katsuki is the one who speaks to you— vermillion eyes clouded with dark lust when he looks up at you. he’d long moved past his brutal assault on your chest, already leaving a mass of sloppy kisses and bite marks down your abdomen until now, where his head was buried right underneath your little skirt. “the fuck you begging for, slut?” the blonde sneers at you so harshly that pathetic tears begin to pool in your eyes. eijirou is quick to wipe them away before they can hit your heated cheeks but you can tell from the look on his face he’s even more turned on by the sight. “well? i asked you a question.”

“she’s crying, katsuki.”

“don’t give a fuck if she cries or not, i’ll give her a real reason to in a minute.” and katsuki bakugou always lives up to his threats, shuffling back under your skirt to press his tongue flat against your soaked panties. he groans into the material, sending vibrations straight up to your clit before he pulls the sticky material away  from your heat. “god...kiri, she’s s’fuckin’ wet. here.” you writhe against the sheets, jolting as bakugou guides your partner’s free hand to your gummy cunt.

his thick digits press into your sensitive nub and gather your slick between their fingertips, both boys watch in awe and hunger as more of the viscous nectar seeps out of you at their actions. “you’re right, she’s soaked, aren’t you baby?”

you can only nod weakly before the boys pounce, kirishima sucking his fingers clean before they go right back to drawing shapes on your puffy clit. bakugou wastes no time either, pinning you down to the bed with on arm as he slides his pink tongue up you the length of your glistening slit. the two of your lovers work together to make a mess of you, between the blonde slurping at your lower lips likes it his last mean and the red head circling your pleasure button over and over— you have no room to breathe.

all you can do is take what you’re given, throwing your head back as your  high pitched moans mingle with the steady beat of the music out in the hall. your pushy gushes around katsuki’s tongue as he forces it deeper into your tightness, committing each ridge to memory and dirtying his face with more of your juices. eijirou alternates the pressure of his fingers from time to time, grinning brightly every time your face twitches with need or with pleasure. your boys are so good to you, even when they’re in control of your body they always make sure you’re feeling good. getting you off, gets them off.

the waves of ecstasy are rolling off your sweat licked skin, the heat of two bodies pressed against you sending the temperature of your own off of the charts, arching perfectly every time katsuki nips at your pulsing pussy just right or eijirou pinches your clit between finger and thumb. you can’t help but leak all over the place, sure that there’s a dark patch on your innocent little skirt, but it’s worth it for the way your boys make you feel, for they tongue laps over your hard pleasure button even with fingers drawing every shape under the sun on it.

you gasp for air as the knot in your stomach twists and the fire of passion burns a brighter shade in your lower tummy, you sit right on the fence of earth shattering pleasure when both boys rip themselves away from you. “w-why’d...why’d you stop?” you wail, tears threatening to spill once more as your high slips away from your grasp.

you make an attempt to rut your hips into bakugou’s face that sits merely inches away from your sopping cunt, but he only smacks your thigh and cuts his eyes. “we’re checking the time, seeing how long we have left to make you feel good, so quit your fuckin’ cryin, okay?”

sniffling and bucking your hips into the air, you agree silently— only comforted by kirishima when he returns from his phone to cup your cheeks again, pressing kisses to your heated face. he slides his fingers that had been dirtied past your lips in a silent command to suck them clean too. “only twelve minutes left until the new year baby, can you cum, before then?” the red head coos you softly, but you don’t have the chance to respond, for bakugou latches right onto your pussy again, tongue thrusting in and out of your fluttering hole and sliding over your puffy clit.

kirishima hums against your neck while you choke and heave, his lips dancing across the base to add lovebites much harsher than your other lover between your shaky legs. your body calls for release as you tangle your fingers in a forest of blonde, causing your boyfriend to groan and hook his arms around your thighs— sucking, biting and ravishing your poor little entrance at an animalistic pace.

you jerk as the same feeling from earlier begins to unwind in your tummy, hips rolling violently against katsuki’s face. “gonna, mmmph....gonna—“

“what baby? what are you gonna do? be a good girl and tell daddy so he can help you...” eijirou coaxes the whines out of you, nosing up your bruised and bitten skin to trace over your wide parted lips. his own hand moves to join yours in your boyfriend’s hair, pushing his head further into your embarrassingly desperate cunt— lewd and wet sounds filling the air while katsuki growls at the slightly painful feeling.

“cum! gonna cum!” stars start to appear behind your eyes, splashes of colour dancing along your vision much like the people outside your room as you squeal and the knot in your stomach finally unravels with your release. the more explosive one out of your pair of lovers gulps down every drop of your sweet, honeyed release as the after shocks of your orgasm dash through your veins.

you watch with hooded eyes as bakugou leans up from between your slick thighs to share the taste of you in a kiss with kirishima, their tongues slide together in the filthy exchange, riling one another up while their hands slip under their shirts that have suddenly become to tight. stripping the offending garments, both of your boys return to you in your blissed out state, eyes wide with a carnal desire to take you again. “you did so well, naughty little thing,” bakugou hums, voice raspy as he pulls you into his chest. his caramel skin is almost too hot to the touch but it’s all you can focus on while you lose the feeling of eijirou to your left. the sound of a belt clinking further off is faint, but you pay it no heed as the blonde before you lays back with you on top of him. “‘gonna give you our cocks now, ‘kay princess? gonna cum on our cocks while we fuck you into next year...”

suddenly, you become hyper aware of the cockhead that presses against your creamy clit and gently push your hips back against it, just to hear katsuki groan. his large and worn palms settle on your waist as he grinds back to meet your sticky pussy— the feeling making both your mouths fall open in low groans. “gimme your cocks, please,” is all you can say, mind far to hazy to form a proper sentence containing any word other than please. “want it now, can’t wait,” you can barely finish your sentence, too needy to think as you press your lips against bakugou’s for the first time that night, shivering at the taste of your release against his tongue. the kiss is sloppy, going nowhere in particular as you grind against each other and wait for kiri.

speaking of the red headed devil, he leans over the two of you, grabbing your jaw delicately to steal a kiss from you as his own length presses hotly against your backside. “can’t let you two have all the fun, can i?” your boyfriend chuckles breathlessly, slowly circling his hips into your ass, you have no idea how long the boys have been hard for but they waste no more time lifting your hips to align both of their thick cocks against your entrance.

bakugou soothes small circles into your lower back as the two of them press into you,  there’s a slight sting as your hole resists their intrusion— a burn that brings tears to your eyes with the attempt to double stuff you but you bite your lip and focus on the feeling of their leaking tips smearing precum along your velvet lined walls. a broken moan escapes you when they finally bottom out, thick and length girths buried balls deep inside of your throbbing heat and trapping them in.

you pulse around them as the boys wait for you to adjust, their hot breath tickling at your ears and neck. “yn,” katsuki groans, fidgeting beneath you while your nipples harden against his chest. “you’re s’fuckin tight, do we not fuck you enough? shit baby...”

“uhuh, need you ta move, ta fuck me open...please,” you slur, slumping between kirishima and bakugou— you can barely form words, mind too hazy at the thought of being so full of your boyfriends and their leaking, sloppy cocks. they love seeing you so useless between them, barley able to move except for the occasional jump in your hips to prompt them to move.

“so cute, let’s give the poor baby what she wants, yeah katsuki?”

nothing could prepare you for the sudden feeling of both your boyfriends’ thrusting into you at once. it’s a tight fit that has you jolting so far forward, bakugou has to grip your hips to keep you still while kirishima grunts into your neck, hushing his own means with every kiss he places against your skin. the red head places a weighted palm on the base of your spine, forcing your ass up into the air and setting the pace. your cunt spasms with the roughness, soaking their cocks in your honeyed nectar as they push into you, stretching your hole for all it’s worth.

the boys have had their way with you before, usually taking turns forcing their cocks down your throat and painting your tongue with the taste of salty cum or spreading your thighs wide and licking you clean— but the way they double stuff you has you losing your goddamn mind, bright red cockheads catching on every ridge of your gummy walls at every push and pull of their hips. the two aren’t doing any better than you, poor katsuki whimpers at the way you attempt to roll your hips back onto them— chest heaving as his own cock brushes against his lover’s inside of you.

the youngest of the two, eijirou can barely breathe, stuck on how your cunt flutters around them, sweaty chest moulding perfectly with your arched back and hands grabbing fistfuls of your cute fleshy ass. the room is filled with heavy pants and the scent kid your sex in he air, clear liquid seeping down from your twitching pussy onto your thighs and splashing against heir pelvises. “what a sticky fuckin’ mess, huh princess?” the ash blonde somehow manages to mock you, his hazy blood red eyes dancing with amusement as your own well up with tears and your mouth hangs open in a needy wail when when kirishima manages to plough directly into your gummy sweet spot. katsuki weakly grabs hold of your cheeks, and like earlier, forces them together while your babble nonsense about how good it feels. he taps your cheeks a few times, almost as if he’s trying to rouse you from your fucked out state and smirks with pride when all you can do is cry some more. “oh shit, ei, we’ve fucked her dumb.”

his evil laugh rings out into the electric air, mingling with the grunts of your red headed lover and the should of skin slapping on skin. it’s so wet, so dirty and you should feel nasty for how their cocks cream warmly inside of you. the hand that rests of your back ( also belonging to ejirou ) slides up to the back of your neck, tugging you upwards while he chokes you out. “yeah baby? you turning into our dumb, brainless little bitch on new years? how pathetic.” the red haired boy utters hoarsely into your ear, nipping at it with sharpened teeth. the sudden gushing from your iron hot walls gives away how you feel about his degrading words, each one going straight to your core.

you find it in you to nod, arching your back and shivering when your lovers laugh at you, demean you for how much of a stupid slut you’re being when sandwiched between them. “feel so full...want more, fuck me more eiji, harder katsu...” you trip over each of your breathless words, falling into a throaty groan that comes from deep with. you want more, need more— and they give it to you. pumping into you at an eleven faster pace than before, the clapping of balls against your ass and count filling  your ears while the lively music begins to pump outside. ten boys live for his, taking you at a moment where anyone could walk in and see you stretched over their dribbling girths, the thrill drives them insane, drives you to sinful pleasures from worlds away.

“that’s our dumb little bitch, beg for more.” katsuki growls proudly, hand dropping between your entangled bodies to draw searing patterns into your clit— you’d scowl at him for activating his quirk every time his digits sparked over the puffy nub, but you were too far gone to care.

“keep rubbin one out on her bakugou— she clenches down so fucking hard when you do that.” kirishima sighs, hips beginning to stutter.

even the boys are joining you on cloud nine, eijirou tilting your head to get a good look at your face while you bounce back on their hardened lengths. bakugou and kirishima groan in unison at the sight of your lewd expression, eyes rolling back, tongue lolling out of your mouth while drool and tears smear across your mascara stained cheeks. what a fucking mess you are, body flushed and skirt stained, what a fucking mess they’ve made you— a weak and pathetic baby girl who shivers and writes each time a fat cock brushes up against your g-spot. broken laments slip from between your bruised lips as the two of your lovers angle their hips just right, prodding your pleasure spot over and over— and when both boys sneak hands down to press on your tummy bulge, you almost see stars.

your nails dig deeply into the pecks of the blonde beneath you, heart jumping as he lets out a broken howl of pleasure mixed with pain. the faint sound of a count down slips in from behind the closed door and you feel as if it’s a clock ticking towards your organs. desire flares up inside of you as you push and grind against your lover’s to chase your own release. “i’m so close, so so close... gonna cum, don’t stop. please don’t stop!” you chant, screwing your eyes shut while the boys give it their all.

three. the crowd cheers from outside.

“you cum when we say so, you cum on these fat cocks, okay honey? that’s right, that’s fucking right...” bakugou snarls, his own eyes crossing with the immense pleasure he feels from your welcoming heat. you nod feverishly and seek out his hand to hold.

two. drunken shouts spill into the halls, excitement crackling in the air.

their hips stutter, kirshima barley holding on as he works all three of you towards that final hurdle, kissing your cheek softly. “oh shit baby, the way you’re clamping around us...god, you’re gonna make me lose it. you can do it, you can cum for us...”

one. happy new year!

“holy fucking shit!”

“oh, fuck...yeah, yeah...”

colours, like fireworks, burst behind your eyes in flashes as the ecstasy that’s built up within you is finally released. your juices splash against the hips of bakugou and the pelvis of kirishima, painting them with your sweetness and making their skin shine under the yellow artificial light. they follow not long after as you tremble between their bodies; two loads of thick, hot cum spray your insides and cost it white— the potent milky liquid reaching as far as your womb, yet most of it leaking out of your velvet walls.

eijirou collapses to your side on the soiled sheets, watching with awe as a mix of all of your arousals seep out of your abused hole. you squirm in the elder’s  grasp as the red head’s fingers delicately scoop up some of the sticky mess and bring it to his mouth. a satisfied hum leaves his lips as he sucks bus own digits clean, blinking at both you and katsuki sleepily. “happy new year, guys, i love you.”

“yeah yeah, love you both too,” bakugou rolls his eyes but holds an arm out for the younger male to roll into, hugging you both to the blonde’s chest. despite his his gruff and harsh voice, you can still see the traces of adoration on his face. he loves you both so much and wouldn’t dare change this night for the world. “happy new year, ya horny little bastards.”

completely blissed out and too tired to scold him for sounding so mean, however, you lean forward and press a soft kiss to the younger’s nose before sneaking one to the grump in which you lie on. “i love you guys so much, you nasty boys.”

the three of stay curled up for a while after that, as the party outside bursts with hopefulness for the new year. it seems as though you’re all going to fall asleep when the door bursts open to reveal a certain tipsy group of friends.

“so this is what you guys were doing instead of celebrating the countdown with us,”  mina chimes, hanging off of sero’s back as she peeks her head through the doorway. you squeal and make a dive for the blankets, hiding your naked body from the view of your lovers’ prying friends.

bakugou’s roommate huffs triumphantly while izuku, todoroki and momo fail to hold back their laughter. “told you she was gonna get laid.”

kirishima flushes red as his hair and makes an attempt to join you in hiding under the sheets while your explosive boyfriend jumps out of the bed in full naked glory, activating his quirk to threaten his friends. “i’m gonna count to three, and all of you better start fucking running before i kick your asses for bursting in on us.”

“but i thought we already had a countdown...y’know for the new year,”denki dumbly comments. “don’t be silly baku bro!” but he doesn’t have much time to dwell on his thought for your angry boyfriend is already chasing him down the hall, explosions sparking at his sides.

it’s the first day of the new year and denki kaminari is already going to die at the hands of abutt naked katsuki bakugou.

happy fucking new year indeed.

[frostedfaves]

Naive (3)

Masterlist

Pairing: demon!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You pick up on the lies in Wanda’s life and she decides to show you the truth.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark!fic, demon things™️, more hints at dom/sub because I’m a whore for demon!Wanda

A/N: I can’t believe that it’s been a month since I posted the last one 😭 I have some things planned for the next part and so on but I also kinda wanna take requests again??? idk we all know how I get overwhelmed easily with that so we’ll see what happens there. anyway tell me your thoughts on this please!

Previous part

Waking up feels like gasping for air after being trapped underwater. You aren’t sure how long you were asleep, but the mid afternoon traffic quickly alerts you of how much of the day has passed. 

Despite your head feeling like it’s made of cement, you manage to stand up, slipping off thin pajamas as you walk into the bathroom and stop at the mirror. Your skin seems tender in places and you’re a little bit startled when there isn’t a single indication of the bite marks and scratches you feel, even after rubbing your eyes a few times and turning in every direction possible. Deciding to let it go for now, you reach for the shower stall to turn on the water, detouring to the bedroom instead when you hear your phone ringing.

“Hello?”

“You didn’t save my number, did you?”

“Wanda?” You pull the phone away long enough to quickly clear your throat. “I mean hey, Wanda! What makes you think I didn’t save your number?”

“You answered like you didn’t know who was going to be on the other end.”

“Okay, you caught me,” you admit after a moment of silence. “I promise I’ll save it as soon as we hang up. Anyway, what’s up?”

“Remember that pet adoption center you pointed out to me?” You acknowledge her with a hum. “I was thinking about getting a cat…Wanna tag along?”

“Absolutely! I was just about to shower though so I can be ready in an hour or so.”

“Perfect! I’ll text you when I’m outside.”

The two of you say your goodbyes and you keep your promise of saving her number, typing in her name and hesitating on the emoji keyboard. Realizing you’d spent far too much time contemplating this, you simply save what you have and hurry back to the bathroom, something in your brain urging you to not keep her waiting.

-

Within an hour, she sends you a text in all caps and a smiley face that tells you she’s arrived, and you can’t hide the fact that you’re surprised when you come outside and she’s waiting on the passenger side of the car.

“Hey! How are you?” she greets cheerily as she approaches you with a hug, and you shiver when her hand touches your lower back. “Are you cold?”

“No, I’m okay.” You smile and thank her when she opens the door for you, attempting to collect yourself as she crosses to the driver’s side again. “I’m really happy to see you again.”

“You are?”

“Yeah,” you admit quietly as she pulls away from the curb. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No no, I just didn’t want to assume you were enjoying our time together as much as I was.”

She places her hand over yours while she glances at you, smiling as she squeezes your fingers and thigh lightly. You feel a rush of something traveling from the places she touched to your brain, only slightly aware of the fog settling in your mind.

“Well I didn’t want to be too enthusiastic about it and scare you away if all you wanted was friendship,” you clarify, meeting her eyes when she reaches a red light.

“I suppose you’re looking for more too, then.”

“I am now.”

The light turns green and she breaks eye contact, but the little smirk that follows tells you everything you need to know. At least, you hope it does.

-

“I think he’s the cutest one we’ve seen yet,” you comment about the kitten that hasn’t looked away from Wanda since you approached his area. “He seems really drawn to you, too.”

“How did he get the name ‘Baby Satan’?” Wanda inquires with an employee, who approaches you with a chuckle.

“It’s actually Baby Stan, because we used to have an adult cat named Stan as well and needed to tell the two apart. We were going to give him a new name but decided to leave that up to his new family.”

“It says ‘Baby Satan’ though,” you cosign with Wanda, gesturing to the extra A mixed in with the magnetic letters that spell the kitten’s name.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I don’t know how that got there,” the employee apologizes as she reaches over to fix the sign, and you watch her freeze as Wanda touches her arm.

“Don’t be sorry. Keep it; I want to adopt him.”

“Okay, right this way,” the employee mumbles as she turns awkwardly and stumbles over to a desk, and as the two of you follow her, you look back to see Baby Satan still staring at the woman beside you.

“What was that about?” you speak up finally once you’re in the car with her new furry friend, and Wanda frowns at you while fastening her seatbelt.

“What?”

“Why did that employee react to you like that? You touched her and she started acting really weird after.”

“Oh, Kim’s fine!” she assures you as she fixes her mirror before pulling out of the parking lot. “I actually asked her about that while you were looking at scratching posts and she said I’d overstepped her boundaries and made her uncomfortable. Don’t worry, I apologized and everything’s good again.”

“She told you her name?”

“She was wearing a name tag, babe.”

Babe...that’s new. Still, the sudden nickname doesn’t completely distract you from the fact that you’re certain there was no name tag on Kim’s uniform. You’re debating with yourself about bringing this up when you notice her heading toward Lane County.

“Are you taking me to your house?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” She glances at you and over her shoulder toward Baby Satan before turning back to the road. “I figured I could introduce both of my kittens to the place they’ll be spending a lot of time in.”

Her fingers brush over your knee as “my kittens” leaves her lips, and you’re almost embarrassed when your hips involuntarily buck slightly. Noticing the small change in your behavior, she takes advantage of your head turned toward your own window and allows her instincts to continue driving while she stares at you, placing her palm on your thigh and rubbing circles on the fabric covering it that brings her closer and closer to your core.

“Home, sweet home,” Wanda announces as she pulls her wandering hand away to park the car, jumping out a second later and grabbing her furry son from the backseat. “Hey there, Baby S.”

You step out of the car in a similar fashion of pulling yourself out of a swimming pool, taking in the fresh air and trying to relax yourself as you follow her into the apartment building. The hallways reflect the quiet and clean neighborhood as you make your way into the elevator and up to the 6th floor, suddenly entering the most empty apartment you’ve ever seen.

Of course there’s furniture: a couch with a TV mounted on the nearest wall, a dining table with a set of matching chairs, a few stools placed at the island and kitchen appliances that are shiny and new. But there isn’t any personal artwork, posters, books or even just a lamp that you could tell Wanda purchased herself with one glance.

“Are you staying in an AirBNB or something?” you ask as she carefully places Baby Satan’s carrier next to the couch, and she chuckles.

“I guess technically it was one before I moved in, but I’ve been here for two years.”

“Okay...so where are your pictures?”

“What?”

“Where are your pictures?” you repeat, maintaining a steady voice despite the expression she gives you as she faces you again. “Pictures of your family, friends, you as a child?”

“If you knew my family, you’d understand why you don’t see them here.” She startles you by practically growling her words but you press further.

“Okay but you also said you love plants and we’re the only living things in here.” You step back to put more space between you while quiet shuffling noises are heard inside the carrier. “What’s really going on here?”

You can easily spot the shift in Wanda’s emotions: going from defensive, arms crossed and eyes glaring to resigned with slightly sagging shoulders and a defeated sigh.

“Fine, you got me.” She bends over to pick up the carrier again and passes you on her way to the door, stopping a few feet away. “If you’re serious about pursuing a relationship with me, then I should probably show you my real home.”

“I don’t know...”

“Come on, love.” She comes just close enough to bring your hand into hers and a tingle spreads through your body, causing you to pull away but her grip only tightens. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you, and this is the only time I’ve lied.”

You find yourself being drawn closer to her, and an almost familiar feeling washes over you when her thumb begins rubbing gentle circles into your jaw. The metal on her ring is so cold it almost burns upon contact, yet you nuzzle into her more with each pass along your skin.

“Don’t you want to be good for me without being forced to your knees first?”

If the fog surrounding your consciousness wasn’t so thick, you might’ve been shocked by this side of her, so calm yet demanding you serve her. But the hand on your jaw seemed to cover every inch of your body and sink into your nervous system, forcing you to fall into her and let her lead you back to the car with a simple arm around your waist. You’re buckled into the passenger seat again and a slightly blurry grin greets you from behind the wheel seconds later.

“I can’t wait to make you mine.”

Your head falls against the car window as she drives to the edge of Lane County, and your altered vision picks up on businesses turning into isolated suburbs into grassy fields into forests. You travel along narrow, winding roads past the tallest of trees with very few spaces in between, and your hazy state of mind prevents you from panicking when Wanda turns onto a dirt path that doesn’t even seem to be safe for bicycles. The wheels bump along the forest floor until she comes to a stop just outside of a two foot dwelling, similar to a cave.

Once the two of you are out of the car again, she holds your hand with her free one until you reach the cave, instructing you to sit in front of it while she does the same. She places her palm on the door, and her rings seem to come alive as they interact with it for a few moments before it swings open and the three of you are sent flying through a tunnel. You land with a groan on the hard floor and dust yourself off as you carefully stand, any questions dying in your throat as you face Wanda again, now standing before you in her true form.

“Welcome home.”

[thatshithurted8]

Lake Chelan

Heyy💜 so i have a req for Vinnie😍 based on this tiktok: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMdaeQPS7/ So the readers that girl and they had like the most amazing date and for whatever reason vinnie forgot to ask her number so they never met again until years later the reader is actually a big tiktok star and moves in with nai. One day nai’s on live and vinnie’s watching and then the reader shows up on live and he’s like ???!!!!! And freaks out cause it’s the girl he’s never been able to forget. @canyoubuymetoast

Summary: An impromptu connection quickly turns into an unforgettable yet unrealistic one. Despite this a few years later Vinnie finally gets a second chance to reignite said connection. 

Warning: Tooth rotting fluff

Word Count: 3.4k

“You know your help would be great Vinnie.” Reggie says sarcastically while trying his best to figure out how to pitch their tent. Maria and Nate went off to scope the area since they already set up their tent, so it left the two Hacker brothers to figure out how to create their sleeping arrangements. 

“Yea yea one sec.” He responds placing his phone on the picnic table he was sitting on before looking up to see a German Shepard walking towards him. Vinnie’s eyes instantly brighten and a smile washes over his face as he calls the dog over. 

The black and brown dog trots over to Vinnie with a wagging tail and almost immediately the friendly animal starts to leave slobbery kisses all over Vinnie’s face. Vinnie lets out a laugh as he moves his face out of the way, but continues to the pet the dog. 

“Who’s dog is that?” Reggie asks walking over to his brother, giving up on the tent. 

“I don’t know it just came up to me. It’s friendly though.” 

Reggie simply shrugs his shoulders and joins his brother in petting the dog. However, just as Vinnie opened his mouth to suggest that they should call the number on the dogs collar an unfamiliar voice calls out. 

“Zeus! Where are you boy?” 

Reggie looks up from the dog and his mouth almost immediately drops open when he see’s a gorgeous girl searching the area looking for something. He nudges his brother who was still petting the dog and cooing at it in a baby voice. Vinnie looks up at Reggie annoyed before he decides to look at what his brothers line of vision was fixated on. 

As Vinnie looks over yours and his eyes simultaneously meet. Albeit cliché, Vinnie could’ve sworn he had the air knocked out of him just by making eye contact with you. He’s never felt anything like it before. 

You on the other hand quickly glance down and relief washes over you as you finally spot your dog that wandered off of your families campsite. You quickly walk over to Zeus, your dog and the two boys that were with him. 

“Zeus I should’ve known you went to mooch food off of strangers!” You exclaim to your dog who quickly walks over to your side before you finally look back up and make eye contact with the boys. As you do so seemingly the same effect you had on Vinnie, he had on you. How did you not realize how attractive he was when you were walking over to them? 

 “I’m sorry about him he does this at every campsite we go to. You would think we don’t feed him, but he’s just a glutton.” You say, heat washing over your face due to the fact your dog wandered off and found the most attractive guys you’ve ever seen. 

“No no it’s okay we needed a break.” Vinnie says nodding over to the unpitched tent while smiling at how flustered you got from his gaze on you. 

Reggie scoffs looking at you then his brother. “We needed a break?” He asks with a raised eyebrow. “Vinnie, I’ve been trying to set up the tent for the last 15 minutes while you were trying to find service so you could make a tiktok.”

It was now Vinnie’s turn to be flustered. “Pfft, that’s not true.” The blond says obviously fibbing and you simply look at him amused. 

“Do you guys need help? My family and I go camping every summer so I’m basically an expert at setting up tents.” You suggest. 

“Yea sure that would be great.” Vinnie says standing up for the first time in the last twenty minutes while smiling at you. Without another word the three of you walk over to the unpitched tent with Zeus following along. 

“My name is Y/N by the way.” You say glancing at Vinnie before kneeling down to work your magic.

“Vinnie and that’s Reggie.” 

And that was how you and Vinnie Hacker met, all thanks to your gluttonous dog who loved showing off his puppy dog eyes to strangers in return for food. Little did either of you know how much this small interaction would have an impact on the other. As the Hacker’s camping trip went on the more your family and Vinnie’s bumped into each other and finally one night your dad invited the Hacker’s over to your campsite for a bonfire. Almost instantly yours and Vinnie’s acquaintance status changed to friends. Soon enough your family and Vinnie’s family spent the rest of the camping trip together, going swimming, boating, tubbing and more. 

That was no different for the last full day of your camping trip. In fact Vinnie finally gathered up the courage to ask you on a date despite the fact you two originally lived hours away from each other. 

“Thank you.” You say glancing up to the waiter that just took away your empty plates and placed the bill on the table. You look back up at Vinnie who was already staring at you with admiration, causing heat to wash over your face. 

Too flustered to look at the boy in front of you, you take in the scenic view. You two sat out on the patio over looking the lake with mountains, foliage and the sun setting in the distance. The restaurant Vinnie took you to was one of the fancy ones in town and the two of you stood out like a sore thumb due to your clothes. Showing up to the restaurant and sitting down to eat in a normal t-shirt and shorts was the equivalent of eating at McDonald’s in a prom dress and suit. Yet, the disapproving stares from other patrons made the whole experience even more memorable. 

“This is very nice thank you Vinnie.” 

“Anything for you.” He says softly, placing his hand on the table in which you take without hesitating, causing both of your heart beats to increase. 

“Do you want to hit O’Riley’s after?” You ask, referencing the ice cream shop the two of you went to seemingly every day of the trip to cool off on your walk back to the campsite after a day full of activities. 

Vinnie pulls out his wallet from his shorts to pay for the expensive meal while looking at you with a smile on his face. “Great minds think alike.” 

Without another word you two leave the fancy restaurant hand in hand while receiving glares from the regular patrons. Throughout your short walk to the popular ice cream parlor in town the two of you reminisce about the past week and a half together. It honestly felt like a dream. 

“You know I wanted to hold your hand on the hike today, but I couldn’t keep up with you and Zeus.” Vinnie says, recalling the hike you guys went on along with Reggie and your brother. 

“Clearly you need to work on your stamina, City Boy. That incline wasn’t even that bad.” You joke poking Vinnie in the stomach before leaving his grasp to wander over to the menu of ice cream flavours. Vinnie was infatuated with everything about you and he adored how you made fun of him for being from Seattle. The blond lets out a laugh and follows you, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his chin on the top of your head as he analyzed the menu as well. Almost instantly you melted into his touch. 

“Okay Snow White.” He retorts back remembering how basically every animal or even bug seemingly gravitated towards you throughout the trip. 

“What can I say Vinnie. I’m just that captivating.” You say turning to look at Vinnie before winking. 

After a few minutes of waiting in line and you changing your mind on what flavour you wanted for the fifth time the two of you finally order and make your way over to a bench nearby. You weren’t a stranger to Lake Chelan and what you loved most about the small town was how close everything was. In fact the bench you and Vinnie decided to sit down on wasn’t too far from O’Riley’s, but it was close enough to the lake to witness the scenic view in full. 

Once you two sat down you guys instantly turned to each other and tapped the other’s ice cream cones, causing some of your ice cream to transfer to Vinnie’s and some of Vinnie’s to transfer to yours. You introduced this small practice to Vinnie on the third day of hanging out together. In which the reason behind it was simply because you’ve been doing it ever since you were little for good luck and to have a small taste of the other person’s ice cream. 

Vinnie watches as you taste his flavour, red velvet while your eyes light up, causing him to smile. “Holy shit yours is good.” You say before taking a lick of your flavour which was blueberry cheese cake. The blond laughs in amusement as your face of delight quickly turns into disgust. 

“Yea I definitely should have gotten yours or moose tracks.” 

Without hesitating Vinnie softly takes your ice cream cone out of your hand and switches it with his. “There you go.” 

“Vinnie, no this is yours.” You say reaching for your ice cream back, but he simply puts his hand above you and ultimately out of your reach. 

Vinnie laughs playfully as he watches you attempt to reach the cone with your original flavour from your spot beside him. “Y/N like I said earlier, anything for you.” 

You roll your eyes at the blonds cheesiness, but you end up sitting back down placing your head on his shoulder while heat washed over your body at how he made you feel.  

The sound of kids riding their bikes, crickets and birds splashing in the lake could be heard while the setting sun continued to reflect off of the water. “It’s so beautiful here.” You say after swallowing your last bite and taking in the view in front of you. 

“Yea it is.”

You turn to Vinnie and your heart begins to race when you notice he was already looking at you. Some may think this moment was cliche, but to you it was perfect. In fact your hopeless romantic dreams were being fulfilled. 

Vinnie’s gaze on you was intense and you couldn’t bring yourself to break it. Instead you found yourself flickering your eyes down to his plump lips and back up to his brown eyes. Vinnie follows your lead and his proximity causes your breath to hitch. 

Without wasting another second Vinnie finally moves in and acts on what he has been wanting to do ever since he got to know you. His lips meet yours and you instantly kiss back, wanting for this to happen for a while yourself. 

The kiss was short yet sweet and passionate while leaving both of you flustered. You place your head back onto Vinnie’s shoulder, your hand finding his and intertwining your fingers. A comfortable silence falls upon you two as both of you take in the perfect moment.

“I don’t want this trip to end.” Vinnie says breaking the silence while rubbing his thumb across your skin and admiring the scenic view in front of him. 

It scared Vinnie how fast his feelings for you developed and continued to do so and he was quite frankly disappointed that you guys live so far away from each other. Although you both lived in the same state you lived closer to Portland while he remained in Seattle. You two created a once in a lifetime connection throughout a camping trip and it seemed as if it was going to end just like that. 

“I promise I’ll say goodbye and give you my number before we leave tomorrow don’t worry.” You say lifting your head off of Vinnie’s shoulder before placing a kiss on his cheek. The whole trip you refused to give Vinnie your number or social medias simply because you realized their was more to life than the internet. You would rather be going hiking or playing in the rain than being on your phone, which Vinnie adored considering he was so consumed with his platform on TikTok. 

However, your promise would ultimately be broken when Vinnie woke up the next morning. The blond boy walked over to your campsite with a small bouquet of wildflowers he picked along the way. He could hear the beat of his heart in every step he took, knowing this would be the last time he saw you for a while. 

When Vinnie reached your campsite his heart and the bouquet of flowers simultaneously dropped at the same time. Your site was empty. In fact, it looked as if you and your family didn’t even stay there. The only thing that proved that you were there were the tire tracks of your families RV. Now the site was ready for the next group of campers to come in and make their own memories. 

Even though you and Vinnie only spent a week and a half together it felt like you two created a lifetime worth of intimate moments and memories. He doesn’t understand how he got so attached to you in such a short amount of time, but he did. The blond boy lets out a deep sigh before turning around to go back to his site, leaving the memories you two created and flowers he brought you behind. 

- 

Vinnie lets out a big yawn as he stretches in bed. He grabs his phone and checks the time. 2:43pm. The night before the blond streamed Valorant on twitch until 4 in the morning so there was no wonder as to why he was just waking up. Deciding to stay in bed for a little longer, Vinnie cuddles into his sheets and opens TikTok, Hera joining him a little bit later.

As he scrolls he likes a few and comments on some of his friends posts. However, his incessant scrolling comes to a stop when his for you page lands on a video of Nai’s. Vinnie watches it, but as he does so a familiar face is shown causing his heart rate to increase while butterflies erupted in his stomach. Who knew that one person could still elicit these feelings out of him two years later?

There was no way. It couldn’t be you in the video. Yet there you were in Nai’s tiktok showing off your gecko. You looked the same, but so different at the same time. Vinnie couldn’t help himself, but to watch the tiktok a few more times, every time his smile getting bigger and his heart fuller. 

Luckily for him Nai tagged you in the caption in which Vinnie took this opportunity to check out your profile and make sure it was actually you and his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. Right away he knew it was in fact you. 

You had just under a million followers and were on the brink of getting verified. As Vinnie scrolled through your profile he finds your first tiktok that went viral and ultimately kick started your career. The video was of you eight months ago running and dancing around in the rain in the middle of the road. Vinnie smiles as he watches and he couldn’t help, but to feel flustered at the fact he finally found you after all these years. 

It made him happy to see that you seemingly stayed the same personality wise. From what he remembered you loved everything about nature and animals so there was no surprise to see your account full of videos of you enjoying what you loved. In fact your most viral videos consisted of your ring neck parakeet, Athena. 

Just as Vinnie was about to hit the follow button on your account a text from Alex popped up. 

I was planning on throwing a chill party tonight is that okay?

He clicked and stared at the message for a few seconds. Seemingly Nai would be invited which meant if you were with her still Nai would likely bring you as her plus one. 

Yea ofc. 

Vinnie spent the rest of the day going through your social media accounts. He wanted to follow you on every platform possible, but he didn’t want that to creep you out so he decided it was best to wait and see if you came tonight. After all his odds were looking in his favour as the time until the get together dwindled and you and Nai continued to post with each other. 

The blond walks out of his washroom freshly showered with a towel around his waist and into his large room. He could hear a bunch of voices and music coming from down stairs so the party must have already started. Just as Vinnie was about to drop his towel to get dressed a familiar voice is heard from the other side of his door. 

“Knock knock!” Nai shouts. 

“One sec!” Vinnie calls out quickly, throwing on boxers and a pair of black cargo pants before rummaging through his dresser for a shirt. “Come in!” 

Almost instantly the door flies open revealing Nailea in all her glory. Vinnie glances over to her in hopes you were with the brunette, but his hopes fall when he see’s you’re no where to be found. 

“You seriously need to stop making thirst traps in the shower we all thought you slipped and died with how long you were taking.” Nai says walking into the room and flopping onto Vinnie’s bed. 

Vinnie lets out a laugh while he continued to look for a shirt he wanted to wear, his mind being clouded with thoughts of you. Nai was wearing the same outfit she was wearing in the instagram stories she posted with you today so where were you? 

Just as Vinnie turns around, putting on a shirt with the intent to discretely ask Nai about you a familiar, but nostalgic voice could be heard in the hallway over Alex’s loud laugh from downstairs. “Nai?” 

“In here!” 

“Jeez this house is huge I need a map just to leave the washroom.” You say walking into the unfamiliar bedroom. As you do so your eyes lock with Vinnie’s and both of your heart rates increase significantly. Heat washes over you under Vinnie’s gaze and you couldn’t help, but to feel confused. He looked so familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on where you recognize him from. 

Vinnie on the other hand felt as if his heart was going to beat out of his chest. Throughout the past few years he imagined scenarios where he would run into you back at home or at Lake Chelan, but finally being in your presence again caused him to not know how to act. 

“Y/N this is Vinnie the friend of mine I wanted you to meet.” Nai says looking at you. “And Vinnie this is Y/N. I think you guys will click instantly especially since you’re both from Washington.” 

“Nice to meet you. Can I sit?” You ask nodding over to Vinnie’s bed where Nai was sitting, petting Hera. 

“Y-yea of course.” The blond stutters out causing his cheeks to go red. However, a pang of hurt rings throughout the boys heart when he realizes you don’t remember him. 

Quickly you make your way over to Vinnie’s bed and without wasting another second you extend your hand out for Hera to smell before petting her. Vinnie watches as you do so. You looked even more beautiful than when he first met you two years prior, if that was even possible. Although you looked slightly different due to the fact you graciously grew into your features Vinnie could tell your personality stayed the same as you continued to gravitate towards animals. 

“What’s this cuties name?” You ask scratching under Hera’s chin, causing her to purr before you smile at Vinnie. 

“Her name is Hera.” 

You let out a gasp, “Did you know Hera was married to Zeus?” You say, recalling your past obsession of Greek Mythology. By now Nai was zoned out of your conversation and was scrolling on tiktok. 

“Yea I actually named her after a girl that I met at Lake Chelan, who’s dog was named Zeus.” Vinnie says with a toothy smile on his face. 

Your eyes widen and you look back over to the blond, your heart beating a mile a minute while you finally connected the dots. 

“City boy?” You breathe out. 

[hops-hunny]

Angels on Earth

Pairing: Ron Weasley x Chubby!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.8k

Request: “CONGRATS ON 300 FOLLOWERS!!!! I love your writing sm <3

this is my first time ever making a request and recently I found out that the person I was dating is still in love with their ex so I'm looking for comfort rn hehe

could you do a 23, 33, 35 with Ron, a mix of fluff and smut? chubby/plus size fem reader please”

Summary: Ron thought he was obvious, but it was clear (Y/n) was more obvious.

Warnings: Sexual themes

A/N: This took a while but I’ve also been busy but, enjoy!

23. “Cause I never believed there was a heaven till I found you.”

33. “Would you fuck me if I was skinny?” “I’d fuck you right now.”

35. “If you wanted a kiss you should’ve just said so.”

For as long as Ron could remember, he had always found his potions partner to be beautiful. Who could blame him? (Y/n) was a beautiful girl. Round cheeks, soft all around, beautiful (h/c) hair, and the prettiest set of (e/c) eyes he had ever seen. But that wasn’t originally what drew him in, it was everything else. (Y/n) had an aura that surrounded her that was so bright, so full of life. Everyone who befriended her was always in a positive mood, smiles seen left and right from the jokes she’d tell. Even right now, with her hair pulled back from her face and the cute little goggles she insisted on wearing, he couldn’t help but admire her.

“Right. I think that should be it.” She said, pushing the goggles up her face as she turned her head to look at him. His face flushed and if she had noticed, she didn’t say much. “That is unless you fucked something up. Merlin knows how bad you are with Potions Weasley.” she giggled, his heart pulling and racing in his chest. 

“Oi! ‘M not that bad. Plus you didn’t let me touch anything, should be fine unless you managed to make a mistake.” He leaned towards her a bit with a devious smirk. “But it’s impossible for you to do that isn’t it? I forgot you were just a perfect princess.” He pulled away, eyes trained on the potion in the cauldron in front of them. Amortentia, was it? He found it a bit strange because he couldn’t smell anything but the girl’s perfume no matter how far he leaned in. In his own state of confusion, he completely missed the girl’s own shocked look on her face.

“What do you smell?” she questioned, gathering her things due to the period drawing to a close. His eyes widened at his realization before calming down. Now was a better time than ever. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before sighing.

“You.” his eyes shot open at the sound of a snort. (Y/n) had made her way towards the exit of the potions room, (e/c) eyes rolling at him as she shot him a smile. She went to leave the room before giving him an up and down.

“If you wanted a kiss you should’ve just said so.” she teased, shooting him a wink before exiting the room. He groaned, rubbing his hands up and down his face as he adjusted the awkward bulge in his pants. He stood, gathering his things as he huffed to himself.

“I’m in deep aren’t I?” he said out loud, ignoring the look his slimy potion’s teacher gave him. Without another word, he left continuing on his path to his next dreadful class of the day.

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

“She probably thought you were joking.” Harry said, causing Ron to give him a glare. Even though there was a big possibility that Harry was right, he didn’t want to believe him. He thought his attempt was a good one! He was direct about what he meant, right?

“He’s got a point. You guys usually joke around and mess with each other a lot. She probably thought you were cracking a joke. Have you tried just telling her how you feel?” Luna asked as if the answer was obvious. Ron felt his brow twitch as he sighed, sinking down in his seat more as he threw his head back.

“What can be more obvious than saying you smell someone in your Amortentia? Do you guys even think?” He questioned.

“Do you? Cause if you did then you’d know that was a poor attempt.” Hermione chimed. Although at first he was sure his attempt was good, that it was obvious, suddenly he was beginning to have second thoughts. Was he clear enough? Sure, you could say one thing but he’d be the first to admit his actions didn’t match. He huffed, looking at his friends, desperation hidden in his eyes.

“Well, what should I say then?” 

“Say something truthful! Let your heart speak for what your actions couldn’t.” Ginny chimed, causing them all to give her a strange look. She crossed her arms, looking away with red cheeks. “What? I think I’d know what chicks like, I do shag em afterall.”

“So tell us, what does your heart say Ron?” Luna asked, he sighed as he racked his brain. He liked her a lot. How could he not? (Y/n) was beautiful, a gift from the heavens above. The softness of her skin, the roundness of her tummy, and those beautiful luscious thighs. He was surprised no one else had made a move on her yet. She was kind too, always willing to help her fellow (y/h/h) in need.

A lovesick dopey look took over his face. “I...I’d say…” he let out a dreamy noise as hearts took over his eyes, “I never believed there was a heaven till I found you. Never believed angels walked among us at Hogwarts, that I think she’s amazing and I-”

“Okay ew that’s enough. I’m gonna be sick. Save it for her.” his sister said, grimacing as she stood up. “And with that note, I’m gone. Why not tell  her at the Gryfindor party tonight? I’m sure she’ll be there!” Ron gulped nervously. That soon? Surely a few hours wasn’t enough time to prepare! Maybe he’d try in a few months…

However as he looked across the hall, seeing some twit practically eye fucking her, it was settled. Tonight he would tell her and if not, he’d at least make some progress.

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

Ron let out a shaky deep breath, wiping his sweaty hands along the front of his jeans. Whether it was the sweltering heat of all the warm bodies, the shots he had taken, or the thought of what he had set out to do tonight he didn’t know, but either way he was burning like a phoenix. His eyes trailed the room nervously, looking for (Y/n). How was he sure she’d be here anyways? She wasn’t a frequent attender to parties, only showing up to them sporadically. However at the sound of a familiar laugh-snort combo, he had all he needed. 

In his buzzed(and slightly drunken) haze, he followed the sound blindly, face heating up at the girl's appearance. She wore a blush colored bodycon dress that clung to the folds and curves of her body nicely.. Her hair was styled differently than usual, but suited her perfectly nonetheless. Most things did. And when she saw him? Her face broke out in a bright smile as she hiccuped, handing her half empty cup to one of her friends. She stumbled her way over to him. He steadied her by placing his hand on her waist, looking down at her.

“Ronnn! Omg Ronnie, what’re you doing here?” she hiccuped again, giggling as she stared up at him. He smiled back at her softly, stroking along the softness of her waist.

“ I could ask you the same thing, love, you’re not much of a drinker usually.” he placed a hand on her cheek, thankful for the liquid courage flowing through his system. “You alright? Come on, let’s sit you down. You don’t seem to be too steady.” he said, guidning her towards the couch. When they got there, he expected her to sit next to him but was in shock as she parked herself in his lap. She wrapped an arm around his neck, smiling down at him drunkenly. He handed her a glass of water, the same one he had been handed earlier when he was getting a bit out of hand. She thanked him, sipping on it at a slow pace. 

After a few minutes, the hiccuping and giggles had died down from her, leaving her to form goosebumps at their current position. She was fully seated on the boy’s lap and he had his arms wrapped around her, rubbing his fingers along her soft pudgy sides. She bit her lip as she looked off to the side, before bringing her eyes back to his.

“Uh, Ron,” she started, looking down as she picked at the skin around her nail beds. Letting out a deep sigh, she continued, “Can I ask you something?” her heart began to race rapidly as she looked at him, watching as he nodded before offering her a soft smile.

“Course. What’s up?” How should she phrase it? Should she be simple? Should she-

“Would you fuck me if I was skinny?” she blurted out, eyes widening. Although she had wanted to ask him something about if he was attracted to her, she hadn’t intended on being so...bold. She was known for speaking her mind but not in situations like this! In a state of panic, she went to stand up but was pulled down by a strong pair of arms, pulling her close to an even stronger, toned chest. He chuckled in her ears, hair tickling the edge of her neck.

“Shit princess, I mean...I’d fuck you right now.” his grip on her sides tightened, trailing one hand on her thigh. Out of all the things she could’ve said, this was the last one Ron expected. (Y/n), his snarky potions partner, in his lap in that god forsaken dress asking if he’d fuck her. He felt his own heart begin to race. Did she mean to say it? Well, did she mean to say it to him? Or did she just want his opinion for someone else?

“O-oh.” she stuttered out. (Y/n) pulled back some, turning her head to look at him, finding that his eyes instantly were drawn to hers. 

“Do you mean that?” they both asked. Ron’s cheeks turned red as (Y/n) felt her own face grow warm. Both of them let out breaths they didn’t even know they were holding, laughing with one another.

“I meant it but, did you?” she asked, breath hitching of the closeness of their faces to one another. She could smell the fire whiskey mixed with hints of cannabis and weed mixing with it making her absolutely intoxicated. He nodded, pressing his forehead against hers.

“‘Course I did, love. You don’t have to be skinny for me to do anything with you, let alone fuck you. Because trust me,” he trailed a hand along her upper thigh, sliding it between the soft expanse of them. “It’d be my pleasure to fuck a woman with a body like yours. A woman so soft, so tender, bet that cunt of yours is tight and dripping. Isn’t it?” the girl squeaked, clenching her thighs around his hand. He leaned down, pecking her lips softly before pulling away, (Y/n) whimpering  in a desperate attempt to let him know she wanted more..

“And if I were to grant you that pleasure right now?” she purred, placing a soft hand on his cheek which he gladly leaned into, a dark chuckle leaving his lips.

“I’d be the luckiest man alive.”