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georgeweasleyslostearhq · 2 days ago

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SHOULD HAVE KISSED YOU

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem! Summary: when made to participate in a school fundraiser, Eddie finds himself actually having fun. Warnings: none

Prequel here!

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"Mister Munson, you have to be a part of this school!" Principal Higgins exclaimed to the boy sitting on the other side of the desk, protesting

"I've been apart of this shitty school for 6 years" Eddie hummed lowly

"what was that?" the older man raised and eyebrow, his hands on his hips as he looked down at the rebellious teen in front of him

"what do you want me to do?" he got in response

"Miss Kelley is holding a fundraiser- u-an auction, of sorts.. you'll be participating"

Eddie frowned "an auction? what you want me to go up and hold items for people to bid on?"

"you'll be the item"

Eddie scoffed "what's that supposed to even mean?"

he stared at the principal and almost laughed, was this a joke? he fails a few times and is now being punished

"it means you'll go up and girls will bid on you- a date with you"

oh Eddie definitely laughed at that, does he think he's funny? he must because that was the funniest thing Eddie's ever heard

"yeah, right" he snorted

"Mister Munson, do you want to graduate this year?" Higgins asked rhetorically.

this wasn't a joke, this was serious

"what's a stupid fundraiser going to do to help me graduate?!" Eddie raised his voice before looking away when the man scolded him

"well, lucky for you, Edward, this school will do just about anything to get rid of you-" The older man started before getting cut off by Eddie

"-How flattering" he hummed

"-so, we'll be granting you with extra credit if you do this, and if you get at least a C in Miss O'donnells, it will be enough for you to graduate" the man finished, crossing his arms

"what type of fundraiser activity is that anyway! I'm no help, I can assure you no body is bidding on me, Higs" Eddie rolled his eyes

"well, lucky for you, you don't need to be bidded on to participate, just showing up is enough"

"this is ridiculous" Eddie mumbled, slumping down in his chair

there was no way he was going to do this.

"oh please, Mister Munson, It's not the end of the world, just a simple date to the fun fair is the most you'll do" Mister Higgins shook his head, deciding this was the end of the discussion.

he shooed Eddie out of his office after telling a few simple details about the night he should be ready for

"and please, have some school spirit" he said before closing the door behind Eddie.

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You sat in the school gym with your friends when Miss Kelley announces the boys up for auction

you had already seen the list a week prior and and had no interest, unlike your friend, Becky, who was more than excited to bet on a handsome mister Mike Lewenski.

your opinions on the fundraiser were mixed.

although a great way to make a few bucks, it was more of a way on telling which girl liked who. but even so, if they won the guy, it's a free date without the definite rejection most of them would face if they had just asked the guy out

so, while it saves a few rejections here and there, and could be seen as a trial run for a relationship, it's also a pit of thirsty women who want to dig their teeth in to a free date with a cute guy, especially if it's Gary McKlaren.

so to say you were the least interested was correct, but you were open to any changes if proven wrong.

The boys walked in the Gym single file and lined up behind Miss Kelley

you snorted at the sight of Eddie Munson 2nd last in line

you had browsed the list at least 3 times, you think you'd notice his name on the paper on the notice board. he must have been a last minute addition, which is pretty smart if you look at how many girls there are in school ready to bid.

but Eddie Munson, the freak? were they having a laugh?

you'd spoken to the guy a max of 5 times this year, he wasn't actually as bad as people made him out to be.

you weren't friends though; you wouldn't go that far. you'd be metaphorically killed if you were associated with him, so God forbid that ever happening.

Eddie huffed, looking out to the Gym seats.

he'd rather be doing anything else right now other than being at school, on a saturday afternoon, ready to be humiliated in front of what looks like 100 girls he's never spoken to (and doesn't plan to)

he frowned at the outfits the other boys had dressed up in, adorned in button up shirts and trousers, some even had a bowtie around their necks.

He mentally shook his head at the effort, because as they all dressed up fancy, like the organisers of this stupid even told them to, Eddie was still dressed in his normal attire, Black jeans and a dio shirt, his leather jacket hiding the cut off sleeves Eddie had fixed it up with. it's not like he was here to impress anyway

he would be here for 30 minutes max before driving back home alone.

"lets bring up our first boy of the evening, shall we. Toby Glover, everybody!" Miss Kelley claps.

She went on to describe the boy, hobbies, likes and interests before looking out to the crowed

"starting the bid at five dollars!" she smiled before a girl put her hand up, then a few others

Toby was baught at 20 dollars to Tracy Dekert.

then the next boy was up. Dylan Mantella.

it took a few seconds for a girl to put her hand up. but then another one did.

Dylan was bought for 10 dollars by Gracie Moore.

Jason Carver stood tall as he took a step closer, immediatley being bought by Chrissy for 5.

Then it was Mike Lewenski.

"He likes to play Football and the band Queen" Miss Kelley smiled

Becky's hand flew up as soon as the teacher announced 5 dollars, and glared at the girl on the other side of the bleachers when she outbidded her

"15!" Becky yelled out before the other girl said "17!"

they went back and fourth a few times before the other girl huffed and ran out of money

Mike was bought for 23 dollars by Becky, who cheered beside you

Then it was Gary McKlaren.

Miss Kelley didnt even get to describe his hobbies before a bidding war broke out. at least 10 girls fighting for him

yeah, he was popular. it made sense

Gary was bought for 50 dollars by Denise Weller.

Brian Gibley was bought for 5 dollars

Matthew Schneebly was bought for 25 dollars

and then Thomas Smith stood there for a few moments

that was when 2 girls put their hand up

you weren't sure if that was out of pity or they were just too shy to put their hand up, But Thomas looked like a whole bunch of weight lifted off of him when he was bought for 8 dollars

"now we have the...lovely Mister Edward Munson!" Miss Kelley announced, she looked nervous as she said his name, trying to find a praise but had to lie through her teeth

Eddie stood forward and clicked his tongue, looking out dully to the seats of girls and young women.

"E-Eddie likes um- Metal music? and uh- is a owner of a club" she spoke, she didn't know anything about Eddie, only that he was a satanist.

"5 dollars?" She announced with a tight smile, looking out to the crowd

you looked down at Eddie from your seat

his hands were in his pockets, he definitely didn't want to be here, but you could tell by the silence in the room he was...insecure?

you looked around the room, did no girl want him? did no girl see anything in him?

surely there was one girl to look past the scary demeanor of his figure and see something to like, but the only thing to hear was an awkward cough

you frowned, you felt bad, you really did.

Eddie looked down at his feet when Miss Kelley spoke into the mic "no bidders?" she asked as if she didn't know no body wasn't going to buy him

you closed your eyes and slowly lifted your hand.

it was just because you felt bad

"oh, we have a bidder! 5 dollars going once, twice, SOLD!" she banged her gravel on the wood. surprised.

Eddie munson was bought for 5 dollars. by you.

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Eddie was surprised when you put your hand up.

but Eddie was very Surprised to see you walk up to him afterwards, a smile on your face, a tight one, he knew it wasnt real

"hey" you greeted

Eddie looked at you confused, like you had grown two heads or that something was wrong with you, but he replied nonetheless

"hi" he said

you looked around the hall, seeing the floods of single girls walk out of the hall, glaring at you with the same look Eddie had a second ago.

"so um-" he licked his lips, sighing

"we don't have to go on the date.." you spoke in a rush, looking back at him

of course, Eddie thought to himself, of course you wouldn't want to go on a date with him

Eddie kicked himself for thinking you would for a split second.

"if you don't want to" he shook his head

this was awkward.

so awkward

"it's not that I.. don't want to. i do...but you- you probably have better things to do so..." you hummed, rolling on your ankles as you looked away from him

"I dont...and I don't want you spending money on me for nothing.." he mumbled sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

you were probably the first girl to talk to him, Willingly, without buying drugs- the first girl to be nice to him to his face.

Eddie doesn't get that often, or at all for that matter, so you were...special. you could say. to him.

you weren't friends, you probably didn't want that. and he doesn't blame you, but it still hurts deep down, where he wont admit it

"it's fine.. it would be embarrassing to be the only person who didn't get bought so..."

yep, that was the only reason you bidded on him, you both thought to yourself

"yeah, I guess you're my saviour, then" he joked, though he didn't find any humour in it

Because you had told him you bought him out of pity, thats not funny or you being nice, thats just sad.

you agreed to the joke and looked around, the hall was empty now, all the girls gone, a few out to their date and all the rest on their way home, alone. some going to the fair with their friends.

"I'll uh- see you next week then?" you stepped back, going to walk away

"I thought you wanted to go?" he frowned

"i thought you didn't?" you raised an eyebrow

"eh.. i feel like i owe it to you, besides i think Principal Higgins and Miss Kelley will be there and if they don't see us- or at least me there, I won't get my credit cause i left you" he shrugged

that was it, it was just for the extra credit

"ok, sure" you nodded

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you walked side by side into the fun fair, you were a little nervous to say the least but it's not like you were gonna be here for a long time

Eddie had said he owed you and just wanted to be seen, so he'd probably just say a quick hello to the principal and spend five bucks on a quick game before calling it a day

that seemed fair, though.

he brought you over to the little games with various toys hung on the wall

"you wanna play a game? i'll try to win you a bear or somethin'" he looked down at you, pointing to the stall where you shoot at a few cans to win

you shrugged when you met his gaze, his big brown eyes full of the bright colours from the lights flashing from the games, the yellows and reds illuminating his face as he turned to you.

he looked pretty good

"sure" you replied shortly, looking away from him, letting him guide you to the line.

his hands were in his pockets as he looked around briefly. it made you wonder if he wanted to be here.

but on the inside, Eddie was almost shitting himself, cause here he was, in the line of a game with you next to him. this was a date, unadmittably his first date- if it even counted

and it's not just because it's a date, it's because it's with you, the only girl- bloody hell- woman that's ever been nice to him. to look at him like he's not a freak who sold his soul to the devil.

and God, did you have to look so pretty good?

he looked away when you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and stepped forward, it now being your turn

the guy spoke enthusiastically, explaining the rules as Eddie picked up the fake gun.

you took the time to scan over the plush toys, the big bat hanging upsidedown from the roof of the stall made you smile.

you smiled at Eddie as he lifted the gun to his face, squinting his eyes before shooting his first shot.

your eyebrows raised at his shot, impressed as you stood beside him

Eddie lowerd the gun, putting another pellet in the gun when he caught your gaze, looking over at you awkwardly

you blinked and smiled tightly at him before looking away "did- sorry did you want to shoot?" he frowned, now noticing that he should have let you play- or at least asked you

"oh no, it's ok I uh- I don't know how to shoot a gun" you breathed, letting out a dry chuckle

"it's pretty easy, here" one of his hands let go of the gun to each out for your own hand.

you let him take your hand and you tried to hide the blush rising quickly on your cheeks, looking away as he pulled you closer

he stood behind you, his broad chest against your back as he instructed you, you held the gun with his hands over yours, his arms wrapping around your frame to help you

"Just look through this little hole right here." he pointed to a little circle on the top of the gun, and you slowly raised the gun to your face, quinting to look through the hole.

"aim it" he told you

you lined it up with the can and he took one of your fingers to place it on the trigger.

the feeling of his hot breath fanning on your neck sent shivers down your shine as it contrasted with the cold brisk air, but you were so hot right now.

did he have to be so close to you?

he waited a second before he pressed on your finger, pressing down on the trigger, shooting the gun.

you closed your eyes as the loud bang and the feeling of him pressing up against you. Why did you like it?

"ahh good try, you just grazed it" Eddie spoke, mumbling something that you couldn't here before you opened your eyes

you could see a little dent in the can but it hadn't toppled over or fallen, signifying a miss.

you shoulders dropped and your frowned, looking over your shoulder to see Eddie smiling softly

"you'll get it this time" he reassured you, lowering the gun

you shook your head "i'll let you do it, you obviously know what you're doing" you flushed, smiling before stepping to the side to get out of his hold

it was then when Eddie realised that he was manhandling you and his eyes slightly widened. Had he made you uncomfortable? he really hoped he hadn't. he dropped his hands and let you slip away from in-between him and the gun and looked away sheepishly

you finally felt like you could breathe as you let out a deep sigh you didn't know you were holding

why was he making you feel this way?

Eddie put another pellet in the gun and shot it effortlessly before he put the last one in.

he didn't even flinch at the loud bang! noise it made when he shooted, or lost his footing, he was a natural.

you don't know what you expected though, he looked like the kind of guy who knew how to shoot a gun, he had that look to him

you didn't want to say it but- he did have the dangerous kind of look to him, but throught the few talks you've had with him, you would hightly doubt he would even shoo away a stray cat if it made home on his porch.

he put the final pellet in and aimed it before shooting it, you watched as it bounced off the bar and fall back to the ground.

you smiled and clapped when the guy announced a winner

"so..what will it be for the lovely lady?" he said looking at you as you stood forward.

the long haired metalhead looked over at you, nodding to the wall of toys.

you opened your mouth, and your eyes landed on the bat again, pointing up at it "the bat?"

the man smiled and got the bat down, passing it to Eddie as you backed away to get out of the line, which was small but growing impatient.

Eddie followed after you and handed the bat to you.

"here ya' go" he smiled.

the bat was even bigger than it looked, bigger than your head, at least.

you brought it up to your chest and thanked him before walking awkwardly away from the stall

"you're pretty good with a gun" you said break the silence between you and him, the blush on your face appearing again as you looked over at him

"yeah? well.. my dad taught me when I was younger so... had a good teacher I guess" he let out a breathy chuckle, kicking his feet.

of course. everyone knew the stories of AL Munson. so your weren't surprised when Eddie told you he made him go hunting with him before he got sent to prison

"made me shoot more than just tin cans.." He shighed

you hummed, walking towards the enterance before Eddie stopped you

"Where are ya' going?" he asked, a deep frown covering his features as he looked around

you grew confused too "I- I thought we were leaving?"

Eddie's face dropped at your words, looking down "oh. I mean if you want to. I just thought- I- I was kinda havin' fun. with you so..."

Eddie was having fun with you; it wasn't a lie. he didn't want to leave just yet, he wanted to play a few more games and if he got lucky, get to know you more. he doesn't know exactly why but he knew he liked being with you tonight

but it's probably because it's either this date with you, or a lonesome date between him, his couch and a cold can of beer.

you stepped back to him and smiled "I am too... I just thought- but yeah, let's go"

the sky turned dark as Eddie and you played a few more games and shared a fairyfloss stick.

you were having fun, laughing and getting embarrased when you got shoved closer to Eddie when a few kids ran past you to the rotating tea cups.

"sorry" you mumbled, stepping away from the metalhead as he tensed up at the contact.

"'s'okay" he smiled, noticing the way you hugged the bat plush in your arms

it was night time- and winter. So were you cold?

so he asked you "d'ya want ma'jacket?"

he frowned when you shook your head quickly "no it's ok, don't worry"

you felt your cheeks grow hot again as he began taking his leather jacket off, exposing his biceps arms that were adorned in dark tattoos.

the bats caught your eye.

you had seen them before, of course, but they made you frown

you looked down at your bat plush toy and hid your face in it sheepishly

when it caught your eye, you didn't know why you were drawn to it the way you were

it reminded you of something, but at the time you picked it, you just couldn't pinpoint it

but now, looking at his tattoo, you realised it was that and you grew embarrassed, did he think you wanted it because of him? well technically you did- no, no you just liked it...right?

"it's ok, really" you shook your head as he handed it out to you

"Please, I don't want you to be cold" he pleaded

he was such a gentleman, you don't get why people did see that, there was something clearly wrong with society to shut out this beautiful specimin of a man like him, he's just so kind and gentle. no- snap out it.

you squeezed the fluff of your plush as he draped it over your shoulders, smiling

"what about you?" you wondered

he only shrugged "m'fine" he looked down, putting his hands in his pockets "as long as you're warm"

you chuckled softly as you looked around

"ferris wheel?" he asked after a beat

you looked to the ferris wheel and nodded "sure"

you let him guide you and you smiled as you got the line

the fair music filled your ears as you slowly moved up the line.

the line was pretty long, trying to see the lights from above and the kids thinking they can see the whole town from the top. they were wrong but let kids be kids, you thought.

when you reached the front, you stepped up and Eddie quickly handed the guy a few coins, letting your guys on. you sat down, your bat plush sat on your lap as the guy pulled the bar down, letting it click before leaving you with Eddie in the closer proximity

your shoulder to shoulder with Eddie when it began to move. going backwards

you looked over at him and smiled sheepishly before looking away

he cleared his throat before pointing to the bat you were cuddling

"do you like bats?" he questioned

you looked down and shook your head

"no..not really. I just thought he was cute" you shrugged

he hummed "have you named him?"

you giggled "no, not yet" you looked at him, finding a teasing smile on his lips and you furrowed your eyebrows.

"I don't- It might be childish, but I don't have a lot of them..." you soft quietly, fiddling with your fingers as the ferris wheel went up again

"No.. I.. I don't think it's childish.. I have a uh- I have a bear on my bed.. Ozzy... so. it's cute" he nudged your shoulder softly

you smiled, still a little embarrassed but it made you feel better that he admitted that.

you think it was cute.. that he of all people slept with a teddy bear, you feel as though you've learnt a lot about him today

it's almost like this wa a real date.

it made you hope he thought it was a real date too.

"do you..like bats?" you pointed to his swarm of bats tattooed on his arm

he looked down and nodded

"yeah I guess.. it's more of that they are seen for good luck and uh..protection.. I guess" he mumbled the last bit

you raised your eyebrows "really?" you tilted your head

"yeah.. don't know where i found that but I though i needed it so..."

"cool" you nodded

his eyes met yours again and you saw his adams apple bob in his throat as he looked at you

your bench stopped at the top as fireworks began exploding in the sky, painting the sky in all different colours, but you didn't look away from Eddie, for some reason, your eyes stayed on him

the sprays of colour reflecting in his eyes as he looked back at you. you wonder if he could see the fireworks in your eyes too.

"thank you, for today.. I've had fun" you spoke, wanting to ease this tension in the air.

"Yeah.. I've had fun too... with you" he said

you didn't know what was happening. why butterflies filled your stomach and made you feel sickly.

Eddie was shitting himself again, the look in your eye made him so weak he was happy he was seated. you looked so pretty in this light. it almost made him want to thank Mister Higgins for making him do this. but after this, he woudn't have any reason to talk to him unless it's to tell him he'd be graduating.

he can't explain how he felt in this moment, but all he knew was that he really wanted to kiss you.

but you don't want to kiss the freak? no matter how many times you've told him you don't see him as one, that's what he is, what he always will be.

Besides. You did this out of pity, right?

Amd it's not like he likes you, right?

but all Eddie can think of as he forces himself to look away is that he wants you to like him

he wants to know why he feels this way, why the burst of colour in the sky wasn't the only fireworks in the air tonight.

he had taken you home after that, sadly saying goodbye as he drove you home, the only sound in his van being the metal music he set to low as he thought about how much of an idiot he is.

all while you had felt completley embarrassed, and if you're going to be honest, a little angry, though you're not sure why

you wanted him to kiss you, but why? you didn't like him like that, this was just because you felt bad

but you wanted him to like you.

I should have kissed him, you thought as you walked into your home.

I should have kissed her, Eddie thought to himself as he drove off.

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anyone want a part 2?

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#x fem!reader #imagines #fluff #eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem #might make a part 2 #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fic

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ladybirdswritings · 2 days ago

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SWEET THING, DBF — joel miller x reader.

DESCRIPTION: your life is a storm—an overbearing father, a shitty boyfriend, and the ache of growing up. everything becomes more tangled when you find yourself drawn to your father’s best friend, joel. NOTES - finally, part two. leave me all your thoughts and opinions. i love them <33 | prev part ; next part

two;

“Put your seatbelt on, Y/N.”

His voice was gruff—tired from overuse, nearly ready to silence entirely. A rich, southern rasp that sent chills down anyone’s spine, yours included. You obeyed without hesitation.

“Thank you for this…” was all you managed in a whisper while locking the metal into place—trapped.

You didn’t know your daddy’s friend too well, but you knew enough. Most people avoided him, whether it was the constant scowl etched on his face or those dark eyes that seemed to scream threats his quiet mouth never voiced. Everything about him made people stiffen, their bodies rigid as old boards.

He only hummed, his eyes fixed on the road, his jaw ticking as he navigated toward the party nearby.

“A left here,” you offered, leaning forward and pointing just past his line of sight.

When he breathed, the scent of honey and jasmine flowers on your skin clung to the air between you. His jaw locked tighter.

You knew you looked every bit the spoiled, overprotected little princess your daddy raised you to be. Skipping Jackson’s town dance to attend some trashy house party hosted by your boyfriend wasn’t exactly subtle rebellion, but you didn’t care.

Where your father insisted on preserving the innocence of your youth, you argued you’d only get to be young once. Only get to date questionable men, drink questionable drinks, and laugh about it later one time in your whole life.

Naive? Sure. But you didn’t know that.

Joel didn’t wait for you to notice he’d parked before snaking a firm arm across the console. His calloused fingers brushed the hem of your denim-clad thigh. Your heart stuttered, your eyes widening as his glare burned into you.

So close.

And then, the seatbelt clicked.

You exhaled shakily, a smile tugging at your lips as you reached for the door. But before you could escape, his rough fingers caught your chin, tugging your face back until you were forced to meet his eyes.

Dark, chocolate eyes.

“You’re real lucky tonight, sweetpea. Now don’t go in there and make me look like a fool to yer’ daddy. You drink responsibly, and you don’t touch a blunt in sight—understand?”

You gulped, cheeks burning tomato red. Wide-eyed and frozen, you nodded. You were nothing more than a fish caught in the hands of a cold fisherman, your pretty face cradled between his calloused palms.

“What, you think I’m stupid? Think I don’t know what’s gonna go on the second you walk that purtie lil’ ass inside?”

His voice was sharp, and you stammered, blinking up at him as your breath hitched. He knew. Of course, he knew. He was young once, too.

“I’ll be responsible, Mr. Miller—sir,” you lied through your teeth, the sweetness in your voice a thin disguise.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, and a deep, gravelly laugh escaped him.

“Oh, sure you will, sweetpea.”

Satisfied he’d issued a proper warning, he released you. But before you could scramble away, he added, “Go on and behave, and I might just convince your daddy to let you live a little more often.”

Hope bloomed in your chest like wisteria tangling with your rapid heart. If Joel vouched for you, maybe daddy would ease up.

A plan solidified in your head. All you had to do was be good.

You could do that! Easy, just be good.

Step one? Sweeten him up.

“You’re a peach, Mr. Miller,” you chirped, leaning forward to press a kiss to his stubbled cheek.

You lingered a moment longer than you should have.

Where Jesse smelled of beer, snow, and fresh spices, Joel smelled of whiskey, cedar, and leather. Of hard work and blood-stained hands.

Joel noticed the pause, and slowly, his head turned. Just an inch closer, and his lips could press right against yours.

The thought made your eyes widen.

What was wrong with you? He was doing you a favor, and here you were imagining how his scowling lips might feel against yours. How his tongue—experienced, confident—might tease the roof of your mouth, trail down your neck…

He peered at you through bourbon lashes.

“That business doesn’t work on me, sweetpea…” he started, freeing a hand so to tuck a stray ringlet of your untamed waves behind your ear. You inhaled sharply.

“You gon’ be good?” His voice was low, a tickling whisper that sent warmth flooding through your body.

“I am,” you promised, your teeth betraying the truth behind your pretty smile.

He nodded once. “Go on, then. I’ll be parked out front. Holler if you need me.”

His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel as you slipped out, your heart racing with every intrusive thought lingering in your head.

Maybe you were ovulating. Or maybe you were a basket case.

You shook your head. Jesse. Jesse. Jesse. Your boyfriend—Jesse.

With that, you slammed the Chevy door and hurried toward the party.

•••

Big. Fucking. Mistake.

As soon as the scent of weed and tequila hit your senses, you grinned. A tiny buzz wouldn’t be too hard to hide from Joel.

One shot here. Another there. You inched closer to Jesse, ready to surprise him.

And you did.

“Y/N!”

There he was, wide-eyed and guilty, his lips swollen from Abby’s kiss.

Tight, toned Abby.

They were tucked in a corner, her lips lazily trailing his throat. The sight made your knees wobble. When Jesse saw you, he jerked away, but the damage was done.

Abby’s hands shot up as though she were innocent, and it took all your strength not to lunge for the bitch.

“Baby—” Jesse started, but your throat tightened, hot tears threatening to spill.

You remembered how he admired your strength back in high school. When you were nerdy and unimportant — only glanced at after the tragic death of your mother. Everyone else pitied you. Jesse was different. He’d whispered sweet words to you after your mother passed, he’d made you less… stuck-up; convinced you that tequila could numb the pain. God, it did.

“Y’know, you’re a real tough girl to show up every day with your head high after everything that’s happened…”

“Sip this— baby. all those thoughts about your mom will go away…” he’d whispered once, tipping vodka onto your tongue. He had lost his mom, too. He knew how to stop the agony.

And now? He was the one causing it.

“Fuck you, Jesse. We’re done,” you snapped, your voice cracking despite your best efforts to sound strong.

You turned to leave, but Abby’s smug voice stopped you cold.

“Don’t know why you’re so pressed, princess. I dig chicks too. You could’ve joined us.”

You saw red.

Before you knew it, your ringed fist collided with her chiseled jaw.

Gasps echoed as she stumbled back into the crowd, her wide eyes meeting yours. Jesse grabbed your wrists, but you yanked them free.

“Stay the fuck away from me!”

And just like that, you stormed out, leaving the crowd and your dignity behind.

This wasn’t how your night was supposed to go.

But instead of sulking to Joel’s truck, you vowed to drown your sorrows in tequila until the world stopped spinning.

Oh yeah, that’s exactly what you intended to do.

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sc0tters · 2 days ago

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Best - Jack Hughes

summary: the time has come for you to return to New Jersey, does seeing Jack make you fall into old ways or do you finally stay strong?

request: yes/no

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sexual relationships but nothing overly explicit.

word count: 3.69k

authors note: first off happy 2025! this is our first fic of the year and we have waited way to long for this part to come out but I seriously think the wait was worth it all in the end. I was going to give us a good ending but then I heard Best by Gracie Abrams and you guys said we could do the angst soo… if it’s not clear, this is a sequel (that I throughly enjoyed writing) but you don’t have to ready part one, it’s just that this one will make a lot more sense if you did first.

part one

This was meant to be a trip you were excited for.

Christmas and New Years in Jersey with Luke at your side. It had been planned since you missed your annual trip to the lake house after your parents surprised you with a much needed summer in Europe.

Just as you should have predicted things ran cold with Jack the moment you the garden state last time round. So now as you stood in Newark airport waiting for Luke to show up you had to force a smile on your face, as the pit in your stomach grew.

Nerves coursed through your veins as you hated that Jack still got to have an effect of you.

This was meant to be a trip that you could use to just catch up with your best friend, but still you stood there forced to have his older brother be the one who was on your mind.

All you were left with was the memories, that you couldn’t seem to part with “guess who?” Your thought was broken as hands covered your eyes “are you that one devils defender?” You grinned knowing that it was Luke who stood behind you.

His shitty attempt of a British accent made you laugh “that one devils defender?” Luke scoffed as he dropped his hands allowing you to turn to face him “Lukey!” You squealed pulling him into a hug.

The boy smiled as he wrapped his arms around you, feeling happy that you were back there with him. Luke had seen you in Detroit over the last two months but this was the first time you both got to spend actual time together since February.

Luke’s eyes scanned your face to see how much you had changed recently, your eyes didn’t seem to shine as bright as they once did. He knew that something was up with you, it would have taken a fool to not.

As the man who knew you like the back of his hand Luke knew that you’d also only tell him once you were ready. He just really hoped that what ever seemed to drag you down, would be set free before it was too late “I’ve missed you.” Your voice was soft as you ran your fingers through the curls you used to help him take care of in your dorm.

He was quick to grab your suitcase from you “we’ve got so much to talk about!” He confessed motioning to you to follow him to his car.

The ride was long but felt short in time as the two of you didn’t shut up, catching up on all things school, hockey, and life itself.

Jack had come back from a workout as the two of you arrived, and you swore that the universe was out to get you. The elevator doors opened on the gym floor and that’s where you were met with the middle Hughes brother.

He was sweaty as he had a towel that sat in his shoulders “didn’t think you were gonna be here yet.” Jack stepped into the elevator as you shrugged “flight got in early.” You tried to pay no mind to the fact that your body felt on fire as his eyes practically burnt into your soul.

Luke sucked at his teeth “it’s good because Jacky here got us into hosting a party tomorrow.” He mumbled sending his brother a glare “Jack eh?” You teased wanting to let out a laugh.

Jack smirked as he looked at you “you want to go on a booze run with me or get snacks?” You didn’t even need to answer as Luke cut you off “you want to get a partner for this prep then you find your own best friend.” He pointed out wrapping his arm around you.

The middle Hughes boy let his lips form a pout “and here I was thinking we’d share her.” The words made you cough as the elevator doors opened to their apartment floor.

Jack laughed “good to see ya Blossom.” The nickname rolled off of his tongue as he walked out first.

The next twenty four hours you were able to avoid Jack for the most part as Luke wanted to show you all the parts of the city that he had grown to love since you had last been. And the fact that he still shopped like a teenage boy helped, as you were having to explain to Luke what a party really needed.

Your luck ran out as Luke got drunk whilst the continued on. Jack clearly knew what he was doing when he bough Luke’s favourite shooter, as the youngest Hughes boy currently stood practically jumping off the walls.

Some of their teammates knew of you from your last time being there and how Luke never seemed to shut up about you. Nico had already been over to say hello again as you had gotten yourself a drink “Y’know I’ve got to get back to my sister but I think you should go see what Jack wants.” Nico motioned in the direction of his teammate.

Jack looked at you as you nodded “thanks for the heads up.” you mumbled seeing the American a confused look as he watched you see if there was someone behind you.

You tried to avoid him but you felt as if you were trapped as Jack seemed to be where ever you turned after that. Every time you went to a different part of the apartment he was talking to a different person. But of course his eyes never seemed to leave yours.

So as you watched this blonde girl run her fingers over his shirt you finally felt sick, rather than watching the scene continue on. You instead opted to chug the remainder of the whiskey in your cup, before you headed to the bathroom hoping that a slash of cold water would do the trick.

Your face felt warm as the sound of water running in the faucet trickled in your ears “pull yourself together.” You sighed resting over the counter as the door opened “can’t you see this is busy-” you grumbled cutting yourself off as you locked eyes with Jack.

He sent you a glare “you know you’ve got a funny way of getting all mad at me when I go talk to someone.” Jack let out a cruel laugh “ain’t like you’re fucking that Canadian or somethin’.” He added making you scoff.

You had started a solid relationship with Ethan right as the summer started as you both seemed to bond over heartbreak. His girlfriend had dumped him and as everyone celebrated the end of the school year, you both found each other in bed needing the company and the release.

Before you knew it, those meet-ups became weekly things. You needed a break from Jack and that seemed to be the one thing that really did calm your mind, even if it was only for that night.

But as Jack stood in front of you, you couldn’t believe that he got mad “you keeping tabs on me or some shit?” you laughed almost wondering if someone was playing some sick prank on you.

He still stood tall as he rolled his eyes “don’t play dumb with me.” He muttered letting a loose strand of your hair get caught between his fingers.

His touch made your body feel on fire “and it’s hard to not know when Luke won’t seem to shut up about it.” Jack added making you smirk “you jealous that he ain’t heard about you?” You asked tilting your head up to face him.

Jack stood there for a moment as he thought about it “you think I’m gonna be jealous of a little college fuck toy?” He laughed almost taunting you “know only I fuck you the best.” The middle Hughes boy knew he was right as you pushed your thighs together trying to dispose of the heat that built up in them.

You shook your head “not anymore.” Your lips pursed together as you shook your head.

Jack noticed how you were still wearing that same perfume of yours that drove him wild “got a long time here.” You still had four days left there and if your trip was going to end like the last one, he knew you’d end up in his bed at least once.

But in that bathroom you tried to remain strong “you wanna act like you don’t fuck me and leave me?” You scoffed wanting to honestly hit him in that moment.

You pressed your pointer finger against his chest “like I’m not just the same as every other girl that you fuck and forget about as if I’m nothing.” Your voice broke as you almost felt your emotions making you feel nauseous.

He could read the pain in your face “don’t say that.” He clicked his tongue as he reached for your arm “know you’re my special girl.” The title was meant to fill you with joy and praise, and it would have if this was February.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you shook your head “fool me once shame on you, fool me twice and I’m the fucking idiot.” You sucked at your teeth watching him remain silent.

There was so much anger in your body “I can’t believe I actually let you fuck me.” You spat turning around to finally leave.

The door to the bathroom whipped as you were faced with Luke “you fucked my best friend?” He scoffed as he looked over you and towards his brother.

His eyes traveled down to yours as he frowned “I’ve got to go.” You mumbled pushing past him as your cheeks turned red, flushed with embarrassment as the boy’s teammates and their partners eyes stuck on you.

You went through the crowed as you grabbed your scarf “I can’t believe you!” Was the last thing you heard before you let the door shut behind you, desperate to be as far away from there as possible.

But the first thing you needed was a drink and a strong one.

It had been hours since what you called your catastrophic meltdown in the Hughes apartment, and Luke still refused to listen to a word that Jack said “she’ll be okay Luke.” His voice broke the silence as the younger Hughes snapped his head in his brother’s direction.

Luke chewed at the inside of his cheek “she’s a smart kid.” Jack added finally breaking his younger brother “you don’t think I already know that?” The defenseman scoffed as he threw his cloth onto the table.

It was rare that he got this angry, but tonight Jack pushed his past his limits “she’s my best friend and you just had to go and fuck her?” Luke felt tears form in his eyes as the betrayal stood in front of him “and for what? To make her life hell and make me think that I did something to make her hate me?” Your avoidance of being in the same place as Jack finally all made sense. You weren’t avoiding Luke but rather the pain his brother managed to so easily inflict on you without a second thought.

The middle Hughes boy shook his head as he let out a sigh “you think I wanted to walk away from her?” Jack sucked at his teeth as he let his eyes squint into a harsh line “you don’t think that I spend most nights fucking wishing she wasn’t your best friend so that this wouldn’t have been so complicated.” Those words made Luke ball his hand into a fist.

He felt his heart pound in his ears as he grew irritated “how is you screwing her and leaving complicated?” Luke’s voice raised as both boys did little to care about what their neighbours would think.

Jack knew he couldn’t really say it, even if there was a truth that made him feel trapped “she deserves so much better than you.” Luke spat letting his words hit his brother like bullets.

The room felt claustrophobic as the middle Hughes boy tried to ignore that he agreed “you’re right.” Jack sighed making Luke freeze as his eyebrows raised.

He chewed at the inside of his cheek “I love her but I couldn’t be the reason you two stopped being friends.” His confession lingered in the air as Luke realised that his brother was being truthful, even if it was as ironic as it seemed.

But Luke didn’t get a chance to offer some form of a rebuttal as the echo of something falling onto the wooden floor of the living room. There you stood with now tear stained cheeks “I forgot my wallet.” You announced holding the red purse in your hand with your eyes widened.

Jack felt his throat go dry, as it was clear that you had been there to hear what he had said. He wanted to reach out for you but instead Luke beat him to it “we should talk.” Luke didn’t give either of you a chance to respond as he pulled you out of the apartment.

Snow sat on the windowsill of the hotel room as Luke joined you on the bed after what felt like the quietest uber ride of your life.

You hadn’t stopped fidgeting as never really thought that you’d have to tell Luke about this part of your life “I’m so sorry Luke.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you expected him to yell, scream, even just be disappointed in you.

But instead the boy clicked his tongue to break his silence “do you love him?” Luke knew that you had always had some degree of a crush on his older brother. Yet he never assumed it would have been something reciprocated or even acted upon.

The question lingered in your mind as you couldn’t find the right words to explain yourself to him “I did but I don’t know how I could like him when he has hurt me twice now.” You fiddled with the rings on your fingers as you let your eyes stare at your knee.

Your answer made Luke frown as you too were processing what Jack had confessed “and it’s for the best that nothing does happen.” You added, not sure if you were telling yourself that too or just the boy in front of you.

Luke placed his hand on yours “you know that it’s okay to still want him.” He sighed knowing how his brother could be and the love you held for him “I just wish you had told me.” His words made you let out a soft laugh.

A tear slid down your cheek as you cocked your head “that I was fucking your brother or that I liked him?” The words made him erupt into laughter that made yours follow shortly after.

He shook his head as he pulled you into an awkward hug as you still sat cross legged “I just missed you is all.” Luke had stayed up more nights than he could count over the last year as he tried to figure out what had happened to you.

You wanted to believe that everything would be fine between the two of you, that it’d all go back to some sense of normal. But you knew deep down that it would never be the case. Because as you lay there talking yourself to sleep as Luke refused to let you go, part of you wished that it was Jack that held you.

Sure you got your best friend back to the greed you held caused you to want the middle Hughes boy now more than ever. Luke had seen you through your highs and lows so you almost guessed that there was now a silent expectation that he’d always show up for you. And that was it, Luke was always going to show up for you.

It should have been enough, and you really did want it to be that way.

Luke let out a quiet ‘mhm’ as he squeezed your side nestling against you “I just wish things never had to change.” You sighed letting your head rest on his chest as the sound of his heart beat soothed you to sleep.

On the other side of the city, Jack lay there as he struggled to sleep. Thoughts of you plagued his mind, as he too wanted to be selfish. You being in his life as merely Luke’s best friend should have been enough.

The boundary that the title drew should never have been broken. But Jack was so desperate to have you in more of his life than just during the summer or when you’d visit Luke.

It seemed that up until tonight Jack didn’t know how to put what he felt into words and now that he had told Luke the truth, Jack had opened the faucet of emotions that couldn’t be turned off.

So as he lay staring at the alarm clock that sat on to his bedside table, Jack couldn’t help but think about what it was like to have you beside him. The thought of your imprint in his bed was like a drug as his hand gripped the empty side of his bed.

Silence consumed him as he shut his eyes, praying that he hadn’t waited until it was too late.

You and Luke had managed to avoid Jack and the apartment for the rest of your trip “you sure you want to do this?” Luke’s question lingered on your mind as you stared at the front door “if I don’t then I’m worse than him.” You wouldn’t have assumed that the pain you experienced would ever have been felt by Jack.

But still that didn’t help your hands from clamming up as the door opened. Jack paused the tv as he heard the noise, making his head whip around.

His eyes landed on you and it was clear he hadn’t properly slept in days “hey.” His voice was soft as his gaze fell onto his younger brother “I’ll go get the car ready.” Luke offered taking your suitcase with him as he left the two of you alone.

You fiddled with the ring on your finger as the middle Hughes brother walked up to you “I’m sorry.” Jack cleared his throat as he stopped in front of you.

He ran his fingers through his hair hoping you knew what to say back “I’m leaving.” You admitted as your mouth felt dry.

Nerves rocked your body as he shook his head “can we talk about what happened?” He pleaded as he felt as if his throat constricted. The boy reached for you as you pulled away, shaking your head no.

It took all of you to not break “we just hurt each other.” You pointed out knowing that your heart couldn’t take one more time of Jack walking out on you.

His words meant nothing if his actions didn’t fulfil them and right now, you weren’t ready to just take that chance “I love you.” If you didn’t know any better you would have sworn it sounded as if he was begging you to just say it back to him.

Your voice broke as you saw how his eyes were full of pain “you hurt me Jack, you don’t love me.” Jack never knew of your nights in your dorm as you sat there in tears wishing that Jack could hold even an ounce of the love you held for him.

He shook his head wanting to wipe away the tears from your cheeks “I never meant to do that.” Of course Jack never did mean to but it seemed as if he just couldn’t help it. It now seemed as if it was easier to hurt you than call you his.

The two of you cried as Jack gripped your hands in his not wanting to hear you say what he thought was coming “if you love me Jack.” You cut yourself off as you sniffled.

It made his heart break as he squeezed your hand “I’m so in love with you.” He confessed making you shake your head “you need to let me go.” Your voice was barely a whisper as you nodded.

Time felt as it is slowed as the boy dropped your hands whilst he froze “and if things are different down the line maybe we can try again.” The offer almost felt like a shitty taunt, that if Jack hadn’t fucked up you could have been his now.

He wanted to fight you on this, he really did “I’ll see you in the summer.” You knew you were going to be there and that was your personal wound. Memories would have to be made that would try to cover those of Jack and that night that started this all.

Your thumb felt rough against his cheek as you wiped away a tear of his “don’t do this.” He pleaded with you wanted to do anything to make you change your mind “goodbye Jack.” You gave him a soft nod as you saw Luke stood by the door with his keys in his hand.

It took all your strength to not go turn around and run into Jacks arms as you walked out of the door.

Because the truth was that, you were still convincing yourself that you had done the best thing for yourself.

Even if you were convinced that in that moment you lost the love of your life.

So as you forced yourself back into work and school when you got back to Michigan, it seemed that life for Jack continued on too. Yet as you trying to forget about him, rumours spread about there being a lucky lady in Jacks life.

This was struck your heart as you truthfully believed that you had really made the right choice, and that you were so stupid to believe he could have ever wanted you. So with Jack you hadn’t really lost him.

Because after all, you can’t lose something you never really had.

#jack Hughes imagines #jack Hughes x you #jack hughes one shot #nhl one shot #hockey oneshots #hockey imagines #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #amber writes fics

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fatliberation · 12 hours ago

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Sorry for leaving this in your inbox, but I need to vent and ask for advice in a place where people won't mock me. What do you do when sex is super difficult because of your fat? I've recently gotten into my first relationship and. I thought I had a handle on my internalized fatphobia and self hate but this has made it worse than ever. We can't have satisfying penetrative sex (we've tried all the tips and workarounds. Nothing works. I'm larger than most of the FA community.), and recieving oral sex is also difficult for me. I also get tired and sweaty extremely quickly if I have to like hold up myself on mostly my arms or something, so he has to do most of the work. So sex is just. Mostly the one that works on repeat, and we don't have it very often because it isn't that fun for either of us, and it also makes me cry afterwards sometimes because of how disappointing it is & me beating myself up over it.

I'm genuinely worried my boyfriend is going to leave me for this. He's clearly very frustrated with the situation, even though he tries to be nice about it most of the time. Earlier today I tried to like be flirty and hint at stuff and he just. got a bit sad. and then said that clearly neither of us enjoy the sex we're having and that he has a lot of trouble staying hard.and that he doesn't see the point when we're both forcing it for no reason. I think he's going to break up with me soon. His ex is way lighter than me, so he's probably comparing the normal sex he had with her with whatever the fuck this abnormal shitshow is :/

All the work I've done on myself to be happy with being fat (including working up the courage to date, what a mistake that was lmao) is all gone. This has ruined my self-esteem so much. I feel like one of those fatphobic jokes but a person.

first and foremost, please try your best to remember this: your body is not the problem. one more time. your body is not the problem. I'm so very sorry you're concerned that your boyfriend would leave you over this. it sounds like he has a lot of preconceived ideas about how sex is supposed to go. I promise you that it doesn't have to be this way. if this is something that could really end the relationship, know that this person is not compatible or open to exploring your needs, rather than your needs being "too difficult." I promise it's him, not you. I know folks who are 600+ pounds who have excellent sex lives and partners who satisfy them and enjoy satisfying them. when someone starts treating your pleasure like a chore, that's just shitty. I know how much it hurts. it also does damage to your own openness to pleasure. when you're caught up in feeling like sex/your body is something that needs to be "fixed," nothing is going to feel sexy, because all that pressure puts stress on and takes you out of the mental state where you're able to experience pleasure. does that make sense? so many couples get stuck in this cycle.

there are so many ways to engage in pleasure without penetration or orgasm. there's a lot that goes into foreplay, setting a mood, making your partner feel appreciated and attractive. words and touch play a huge part in this. something as simple as exploring each other's bodies, not with the intention of reaching climax, but simply to be vulnerable and engage each others' senses. have your partner give you a massage. play with your hair. tickle your back with a feather. shower together. kiss you. compliment you. if either of you are into any kinks or dirty talk, that could be a great way to engage each other sexually without the pressure of "achieving" a goal. the goal here is just to feel good, close, and connected. societal messaging about sex has placed so much importance on orgasm instead of pleasure - when taking the time and space to relax and receive attention, is key.

feel free to check out my other posts on fat sex ed, there's lots of assistive toys that can make pleasure more accessible, but I think that should be a tool for later, since the biggest issue here is the pressure to perform. know that pleasurable sex can exist for you! but for now, I would recommend taking a break from sex altogether since it is not pleasurable for you right now. because pleasure is the whole point. forcing it is only going to feel worse. you do not owe it to your boyfriend, especially if it doesn't feel good and is taking an emotional toll. I hope you both are able to take a step back, reassess and communicate, and are able to reconnect and create a safe space to explore.

I understand why you're beating yourself up over this, I've been there too. but also know that it's just another societal standard that's been internalized (and it doesn't sound like your boyfriend is helping). like you said, you've done a lot to unlearn fatphobia. there's a lot of internalized beliefs we absorb from society surrounding sex, just like body image. I promise that there is nothing wrong with you. If your boyfriend takes his frustration out on you instead of making you feel safe to express your needs, then he's not a supportive partner. you deserve someone who takes delight in your pleasure and your body. believe me, we're out there.

#fat pleasure is fat liberation #fat sex ed #fat sexuality #fat liberation #inbox

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mattsmedusa · 1 day ago

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✎ 𝟕 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐱 ✮ 𝐜.𝐬 𝐰𝐜. 𝟔𝟔𝟏 [𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭]

chris sat confidently on the edge of the bed, his hands on your head, caressing it in a condescending manner as you bobbed your head. spreading his legs wider to give you more space to work with. a smug smirk on his face as he looked down at you.

your eyes watered when he abruptly pulled your head down, causing you to involuntarily deep throat him, but you weren’t gonna stop.

no way in hell. not when he looks so fucking smug.

✩ 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫 ✩

you were at a party, sitting in a circle of strangers with a solo cup in your hand as you participated in their little games. that was until chris sat beside you—much to your surprise.

he’s your ex.

yeah, that’s enough description, and well, having broken up on shitty terms, you would’ve expected him to keep himself out of your radius, but he seemed to relish in pushing your buttons.

the group of party goers suddenly decided to play the cliché game of 'truth or dare'. well, what could they do otherwise? they’d already played everything they knew of. even board games were opened and played at least once. the mood was dying down and some had even sneaked off into the spare bedrooms at the luxurious house the party was held at.

"so, truth or dare... what was your name again?" one of the wasted guys slurred, narrowing his eyes as he leaned forward, looking directly at you.

you raised your eyebrows slightly, clearly uncomfortable with the proximity, your body instinctively leaning back. "uh, yeah, um... dare?" You chuckled, the sound a bit too forced.

the guy, however, was too drunk to notice your obvious gestures of discomfort and grinned drunkenly. "alright, great choice!" he hooted excitedly and after a solid minute of whispering around, they finally made a decision.

7 minutes in heaven with chris.

oh hell to the fucking no. no way in hell were you gonna go into a confined space with the asshole beside you. the idea itself made you feel so irritated that you just wanted to rip the drunken guy’s eyes straight out of their sockets.

the group hollered and howled, making loud noises as they chanted '7 minutes' over and over again like a bunch of broken records.

"fuck me sideways," you grumbled under your breath as you stood up. "i mean, i can do that." chris’ voice was too close for comfort, therefore startling you so much that you nearly hit him. "woah, let’s not get physical," he laughed, "and I’d advise you to lose that heavy guard you’ve around yourself sweetheart."

just his tone made you want to stab him to death. oh how you hated that smug expression, but you loved it too—

no, no, no, shut up!

you were too drunk, too in your own train of thought to notice chris’ hand leading you away and into a spare bedroom for your dare of 7 minutes in heaven.

✩ 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 ✩

you gagged and choked around his base as he kept your head pushed down, keeping his cock nestled deep down your throat. you coughed and slapped his thigh repeatedly, and he finally let go of your head, chuckling as he leaned back on his hands, watching you cough and gasp violently.

"you fucking—" "7 minutes are gonna be up soon," he cut you off, smirking as he continued, "c’mon, finish what you started." there was a clear challenge in his words – as if testing your limits – that made your irritation flare up.

"i will, now shut up and lemme finish you off," you gritted your teeth before standing up, stripping out of your attire.

chris’ smirk slowly widened when you straddled his lap in only a skimpy thong. his hands snaked up to grip your waist, licking his lips slowly as he caressed your sides. his smirk had become a full-blown grin by now, knowing he had gotten his way as usual.

chris had won you over, yet again.

୨୧

[𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞!]

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @chaossturns @mels4ngel @lypsiiii @sydneyylainn @sturniolozbae @hearts4werka @strnilolover @matts-sidepiece @hearts4sturniolo @ivysturnss @bumbl3b34 @sophand4n4 @sagesturns

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emacrow · 20 hours ago

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Danny's pov aka 3 months and 24 days ago before Jazz visited by creator/emacrow

Danny was not panicking. No, he wasn't as he stared up at the foggy smug that covered the sky in Gotham city.

That fancy apartment that Sam assigned him to stay for his collage life, got destroyed during a bomb/hostage by some clown wannabe who fought a liminal in a furry costume during his school time.

Along with his collection of accurate space related merchandise he had in that apartment got destroyed except for the mini projector tucker made him of the stars that he kept in him chest, intangible for now with his thermos filled with ectoplasm and his wallet.

The only available place at the moment was a rundown back alley apartment in the darker part of Gotham, a red flag for neglected health department, with the mold on the wall, three bat hanging on the ceiling, but that wasn't the worse of it.

It was the kid's crying or getting yelled at by drunken parents in the neighbors apartment as the walls were too thin that Danny could practice heard all four story apartments.

Danny's hands tighten so hard in the a fist to push down the growing length of his fingers nearly shifting in ghost form of claws.

"Remember jazz advice, I can do this. I'm the one in control, not my obsessions. I can do this, I'd beaten Dan for spirit sake, I can do this."

Unfortunately that mental strain of control lasted for 4 days straight.

The sound of smack made Danny's teeth gritted so hard as his head nearly whiplash, eyes glowing neon blue toward the sound of a little toddler crying out loud as the snapped bit of control of his obsessions rear its terrifying head.

3 days, of walking through this Damn shitty apartment seeing kids cautious huddle walking or limping around with bruises that he could see with, was torture on his protection obsession.

He could help them, save the day like he used to, beat some scummy bastardly asshole with a inch of their life and ripe off their arm off that dare beat their own flesh and blood and tear their thro-

Danny shook his head from the invasive thoughts out of pure panic, biting his lips til it bleed red.

"Im in control, not my obsessions, I'm in control, not them, I'm in contro-

....

.....

He was groaning into his hands, peeking between his eyes, to see the two sibling, 5 year old Denis and Diani looking at him with sparkling puppy eyes, gorging themselves on the freshly made mac and cheese covered in cooked mini cut sausages with a side of chicken nuggets and fries, a freshly deinfected sippy with fruit juice in the table in his apartment.

He slipped up. It was just a tiny slip of control. They were starving for god sake with how malnourished they look.

This is going to be a one-time thing, and the first thing he is doing is child support services in the morning.

....

...

Ok he might have gone overboard in two months

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#dpxdc #dc x dp #danny phantom #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp prompt #dcxdp #danny is the ghost king #end up living in a shitty apartments full of abusive parents and their kids #cassandra cain #dead silent #he saw these poor abused children and abandoned babies and his obsession said it free real estate #dont fucking steal my story bots #don't steal my story bots

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sadlynotthevoid · 2 days ago

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An enstars social media fic with outsider pov included (aka, fans and the public) must be very funny because then you'd have:

• Random no idol fan person asking why is a highschooler going around with a sword.

• Video compilation of Rei Sakuma acting like a vampire.

• Video compilation of Rei Sakuma acting like an old man.

• Conspiracy theories about Eichi Tenshouin and how he "is totally hiding something guys. I don't trust him!"

• "Yes. Wataru. He's hiding Wataru. Look at his hair! That guy can't be human." As a reply to above.

• Alkaloid spotted accounts because they still believe they're not actually famous.

• Regarding the above point, Mayoi's photos are mostly purple blurs or dark corners where you can see a figure who somehow the fans know it's Mayoi.

• Aira's are taken mostly at idol events— others' idol events. A moment you're waiting in the line with your friend, the next you look back and realize the dude behind is Aira from Alkaloid.

• Tatsumi is greeting or smiling at the person behind the camera in most of his, except when he's getting out of a car. Then he's smiling the brightest— and everyone else is pretty much not.

• Hiiro's are a mix of 'spending time with friends/his brother' or a selfie with the person with the camera after he almost gave them a heart attack by dissapearing and reappearing right next to them.

• Shun's accounts in anywhere having an apparently random number added at the end. It actually is the number of the times he had to get a new account to the date.

• Madara fans putting his face in cowboy pictures and cowboy memes the same.

• Madara putting his face in cowboy memes himself and refusing to use normal ones.

• Kanata logging in once a month to post the name of a submarine creature and nothing else during the rest of the day. Sometimes with a picture for reference, which can vary from a photo of the species to a bad drawing of a fish.

• Madara evolving to put his face on mom memes.

• Someone jokingly asking Madara if he can adopt them and getting a positive answer. But they have to call him Mama.

• Hiyori's fans asking him every morning what's the veredict. If he answers Good Hiyori, they rejoice and act like they're going to have a great day. If the answer is Bad Hiyori, they rejoice and take meassures to prepare themselves for a shitty day.

• No one knows if they actually have good or bad days as per Hiyori's answer.

• Occasionally, Hiyori is going to reply with a Good Hiyori but remind to take their umbrellas anyway.

• In an interview, Hiiro is made a question about what song did he enjoy performing the most and he answers sunny trip summer. Immediately Aira affirms that is because he wants to eat lemons. The conversation sidetracks and now no one know if that is the real reason or not, just that Hiiro likes lemons a lot.

• "Alkaloid sidetracking compilation" and the video is four hours long.

• Sakuma Ritsu falling asleep video compilation.

• The rest of Crazy:B exposing Rinne for fun and revenge every so often. It goes from stories from when he just arrived to the city (once he got Niki really pissed off) to his latest act of brotherly pride to, one time he made HiMERU snap, finding any embarrasing moment of his and @-ing Hiiro at it.

• [Many days] since Eichi had to be ingressed into the hospital.

• Hokuto-senpai.

• Knights posting a photo of a small part of the lyrics for their new song:

"what kind of writing tool is that?"

"is that ketchup?"

"why is it written in ketchup"

"Mustard doesn't have the same effect."

• "If I had a nickel for every time [an idol used ketchup to write on non-edibles] I'd had two nickels, which is not a lot but is weird it happened twice".

• "It happens more than you'd think". Actual ES member response.

• People asking Koga to recreate the fight with the guitar.

#ensemble stars #enstars #hiiro amagi #madara mikejima #hiyori tomoe #crazy b #eichi tenshouin #wataru hibiki's hair #tatsumi kazehaya #mayoi ayase #aira shiratori

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magefelixir · 1 day ago

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wait do people think that it’s human meat specifically that made the pies good guys the pies before were made with LARD and BUGS!! the opposing pie shop stretched one cat into 7 PIES the pies were good because they.. actually had meat in them not because human meat is particularly good

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janiehellion · 18 hours ago

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Revved Up

ONESHOT

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Learning to ride a motorcycle should’ve been simple. After all, you knew your way around bikes better than anyone in Alexandria—except Daryl Dixon. But one crash and one pissed-off redneck later, and you're stuck with him giving you a hands-on crash course in focus and control.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: SMUT / LANGUAGE / MINOR INJURIES / VAGINAL FINGERING / CUNNILINGUS / SEMI-PUBLIC / ROUGH SEX / PAIN PLAY / MARKING

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 14.441

ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ: S05E13—ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ & S05E14—ꜱᴘᴇɴᴅ

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ: My first oneshot of 2025—and my longest yet! Sorry, not sorry, for the length; Daryl Dixon refused to stop until the lesson was fully drilled in. Hope it's worth the ride.

MASTERLIST & REQUEST GUIDELINES

You couldn't take your eyes off of him.

Out of everyone from the new group in Alexandria, he was the one who made the least effort to fit in. He was quiet and always looked ready to leave, like this wasn't a place to call home. He preferred to keep his distance, doing his own thing around the community, and that made him even more interesting to you.

Daryl Dixon was certainly different from the rest.

The first time you caught him working on the motorcycle and the parts he got from Aaron, in Aaron's and Eric's garage, something caught your attention. It wasn't just the way he moved, though the way his hands worked on the machine was something you couldn't ignore. No, it was more than that, and it pulled you in.

And for you?

The sound of metal and the smell of oil were all too familiar. You'd grown up around motorcycles and spent hours watching your old man work on his Harley Davidson most of the time, until you decided to become a mechanic after school, especially for motorcycles. That knowledge was something you didn't share with many others in Alexandria, but when you saw Daryl putting that motorcycle together piece by piece, you figured it might be a good way to start a conversation, if nothing else.

Sure, he kept to himself mostly, spending more time with his crossbow than with humans. But it made him stand out in a place where most people were getting used to living 'normally' again. And you didn't want anything normal. You wanted real.

That's what led you to the garage.

Daryl, of course, was bent over the motorcycle he'd been working on for some time now.

As you walked closer, you pretended to inspect his work. "What is this, a '92 Honda? Nice setup. Yamaha front end, though? Bit of a Frankenstein's monster, huh?"

That got his attention. "The hell ya know 'bout bikes?"

You shrugged, smirking at him. "What, do you think just 'cause I live in Alexandria, I can't tell a carburetor from a walker? Oh, please."

He hadn't spoken to you much since he arrived, but then again, Daryl didn't talk to anyone much. But you? You barely ever got a grunt in your direction since he'd been here.

"Looks like it's finally coming together," you started, trying to sound bored. It was a shitty way to break the ice, but small talk wasn't your thing after all.

Daryl didn't even look up. Grease covered his hands, and his current expression made him look like he'd rather punch you than say hello.

"Yeah, maybe if ya'd stop annoyin' my ass," he murmured, tightening a bolt.

"I'm only annoying the bike," you snorted. "And I'm making sure it doesn't fall apart the second you ride it out of the community."

That earned you a glare. A quick one. And you held his stare for that moment, refusing to look away.

"So yer always this annoyin'?" He shot back, wiping his hands on a rag and finally standing up to his full height.

"You tell me. So what is it? This… special kind of build?" You asked, gesturing to the motorcycle. You had to admit, it did look quite nice.

His eyes narrowed, and he seemed to be a little surprised about your curiosity. "Do ya really know bikes?"

You shrugged, playing it cool. "Enough to know that this isn't a normal setup, but that's just personal taste, you know?"

"It'll work."

"Sure, until it doesn't," you continued with a smirk. "But hey, it's your funeral. Or someone else's if that thing gives out mid-run."

He grunted, clearly not in the mood to admit you might have a point.

"Still, not bad for what you had to work with. Must've been a pain in the ass to track down some of the other parts," you moved closer, getting a better look at the setup. "But I heard Aaron's been helping you out. He's good with scavenging stuff. Though, I bet he didn't know half of what you needed."

That got a grunt of agreement from Daryl. "He ain't bad. Jus' don't need anyone watchin' when I'm workin'."

"Noted." You raised your hands, but you didn't back off. Instead, you crouched next to the machine, inspecting the details up close. You could feel Daryl's eyes on you, probably wondering what the hell you were doing.

After a moment of silence, you looked up at him again. "You ever really gonna take this thing out, or are you just building it for the hell of it?"

Daryl looked over to the garage door as if he was thinking whether or not to answer. Finally, he sighed. "Gonna use it. Aaron wants me on the road, recruitin' and all. Need somethin' fast."

"Yeah? And what if you end up with a flat tire out there? Wait, that might not even be a problem, since it kind of looks like you're building yourself a time machine there," you answered, standing up. "But you're gonna need more than just duct tape and spit to get this thing running."

Daryl's eyes narrowed again. "Told ya I know what I'm doin'," he snapped, his hand tightening around the wrench like he was itching to throw it at you.

But you weren't about to be ignored that easily. "You've really got some interesting mismatched parts here. Yamaha forks on a Honda… Look, I'm just saying that you might wanna check the suspension before you ride outta here. Unless you're aiming to get launched off it."

"Gonna manage."

You snorted. "Sure, you will. But hey, if you ever feel like teaching someone else how to ride, I wouldn't mind learning. I mean, someone's gotta be around to save your ass when that thing tries to kill you."

Daryl shot you a look, his jaw clenching slightly, but this time, he just stared at you like you were the most confusing person he'd ever seen.

"Ya wanna learn how to ride?" His voice sounded annoyed, like the idea was somehow offensive to him, but there was also some slight disbelief to be heard as if he wasn't sure why you'd ask him of all people. "Ain't got time for that. Got 'nough problems without babysittin'."

"Come on," you pressed further. "What's the harm? Or is the asshole routine just for me? Besides, if you ever crash, I promise I'll write you some kinda eulogy. Something about how you died doing what you loved—which is looking perpetually pissed off."

You could've sworn you saw the slightest smirk, but Daryl quickly busied himself with the motorcycle, like he hadn't shown you might really have a point with your tips.

Keeping your voice casual, you stepped back. "Let me know if you change your mind," you continued, brushing off your knees. "Might be fun."

With that, you gave him one last smirk and turned around, leaving him to think about whatever he thought of you.

You spent the next couple of days trying not to think about Daryl Dixon, which was about as easy as trying not to notice a walker biting your arm. But despite your best efforts to act like it was no big deal, the thought of riding that motorcycle—and more specifically, him teaching you—kept making its way into your head.

Daryl didn't say anything about your offer for those few days, too. Hell, he didn't say much of anything, really. He'd pass by you in Alexandria, his crossbow by his side, always looking like someone just spit in his drink. But you had gotten used to the silent treatment by now, so you didn't let it get to you... much.

Indeed, it didn't take long to figure out that convincing Daryl Dixon to teach you how to ride a motorcycle was like trying to herd cats—but grumpy, feral ones… with knives.

It was late afternoon when you found yourself near the garage again, and you hadn't planned on seeing him, but let's face it, you were intrigued. And there he was—still working on the motorcycle and still looking like it personally insulted him.

However, the thing looked all patched together with scavenged pieces and maybe a little bit of wishful thinking. It had a certain look to it, like it wanted to run off into the wild and never come back.

Daryl didn't even move. He didn't look your way. He just kept wrenching something near the seat before he glared at you like you'd asked him to solve a math problem.

"Thought I'd come by and bless you with my knowledge once more," you announced, smirking as you leaned against the workbench.

Daryl only rolled his eyes—actually rolled them—like he couldn't believe he had to put up with you again. "Ain't nobody asked for that."

"Yeah, well, nobody asked for that bike to look like it's held together with a plea and a prayer, but here we are," you shot back, leaning forward slightly. "'Livin' on a Prayer,' in fact."

He grunted, shoving the wrench into the toolbox with force. "The hell do ya know 'bout motorcycles, anyway?"

"I do know motorcycles! I told you, didn't I? And that thing," you pointed to the machine, "is one bad pothole away from turning into scrap metal."

Daryl scoffed, clearly not a fan of having his work criticized, especially by someone who, in his eyes, hadn't earned the right to say something about it. "It'll hold. 'S a good bike."

"Sure, sure," you said, grinning at him. "But if you're so confident, why don't you accept my offer? Teach me how to ride. Let's see if this thing here can handle it."

He stared at you for a long moment, like he was thinking about his options. You could practically see the gears running in his head—whether to shut you down and tell you to piss off or give in just to prove you wrong.

"Ya serious 'bout this?"

"Dead serious," you said, holding his stare. "What? Are you afraid?"

His nostrils flared in the way they did when he seemed to be two seconds from snapping at you, but instead, he just turned back to his work. "Ya wanna learn? Fine. But don't come cryin' to me when ya hurt yer ass."

"Oh, don't worry, Dixon. If I hurt my ass, I'll make sure you hurt yours, too," you said, biting back a laugh as you straightened up. "But I swear, this thing's gonna be your mid-life crisis. What's next, leather pants and chaps?"

He showed you one of those stares again—half-annoyed, half-confused—like he wasn't sure if he should bother responding or pretend you didn't exist.

"Ya done?"

"Done? I'm here to save you from yourself, Daryl. You keep this up, and in a week, you're gonna be having a mullet and wearing a crop top."

He stared at you like you'd grown an extra head. "What the hell're ya talkin' 'bout?"

"Mid-life crisis, Daryl. First, it's the bike. Then, it's questionable fashion choices. Next thing you know, you're coming back from a run with a Corvette and crying over Bon Jovi ballads. I'm just here to make sure it won't happen."

"Ain't havin' no damn crisis."

You smirked. "Uh-huh. That's what they all say. Just remember, I offered to help. I can't wait to see you when you're rocking those chaps and a bandana."

"So, ya still wanna learn to ride or not?" His voice sounded definitely pissed off.

You raised your eyebrows, as if in shock. "Oh my, was that an offer in return? From you? I'm touched, really. Let me just—" You pretended to wipe a tear away from your eye and sob. "This moment's very special to me."

"Shut up," he grumbled, but his voice gave way that he almost sounded amused.

"I'm just saying, this is progress," you said. "Next thing I know, we'll be exchanging friendship bracelets."

Daryl didn't respond right away, but you thought you had seen enjoyment, maybe? Or irritation. It was hard to tell with him. Either way, he was back on his feet now, pulling the motorcycle upright and kicking the stand back. Soon enough, the familiar sound of the engine made its way through the garage, and damn if it didn't make your pulse race just a little.

"Get on."

His sudden words made you blink at him in surprise. "Wait, like… right now? Where's the foreplay, Dixon? At least buy me a drink first."

"Nah, when I'm dead. Yeah, right now," he snapped, unable to believe you were even asking.

"Okay, okay," you mumbled, swinging your leg over the motorcycle with as much confidence as you could have at that moment. The seat seemed normal, but it still felt bigger than you expected.

Daryl stepped beside you, his arms crossed as he watched you. "Ya know how to start?"

"Of course I do," you said, reaching for the handlebars.

You were halfway through fumbling with the throttle at first when Daryl's hand shot out, grabbing your wrist. "That ain't how ya do it," he growled as he leaned in. "First lesson: This here's the throttle—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know what a throttle is," you interrupted, waving him off. "I'm not a complete idiot. I could turn this thing into scrap and piece it back together if you wanted me to, so..."

His eyes narrowed. "Then maybe shut up and listen."

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. You couldn't help it—pissing him off was just too easy.

"Clutch on the left, throttle on the right," he continued, his fingers tapping the handlebars. "Brake's here. Don't yank it like an idiot." He then gave the machine a once-over. "Ya pull the clutch, twist the throttle slowly. Too much, and yer gonna stall it."

"Okay, understood. Show me."

Daryl let out a frustrated sigh but soon moved behind you, reaching around to grip the handlebars. His strong chest pressed against your back, and you immediately forgot how to breathe.

"Ya gotta ease into it," he instructed while his fingers guided yours on the throttle.

"Uh-huh, yeah, sure, ease into it," you mumbled, trying to sound unimpressed. "And what happens if I don't ease into it? The whole thing explodes?"

"Nah. Ya gonna wipe out an' eat dirt," he shot back, his lips showing a bit of a smirk. "But maybe ya'll learn faster that way."

"Yeah, well, I've eaten worse," you answered, glancing over your shoulder at him. "Besides, I doubt you've ever taught anyone how to ride before. What if you're just a terrible teacher?"

He huffed against your neck. "Ain't teachin' ya much. Now, idle it forward."

You followed his instructions, twisting the throttle just enough to get the engine purring beneath you. The vibration went through your legs, and despite yourself, you had to admit it felt very, very good.

"Okay, now what?" You asked, trying to sound bored even though the adrenaline was starting to kick in.

"Now ya balance," Daryl said, his voice neutral like this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Try not to fall over." You could feel his eyes on you, judging every movement you made. "Quit messin' 'round. Friction Zone is how ya idle forward."

You shot him a look but did as he said, trying not to stall the motorcycle. For a second, you wobbled, and you swore you heard Daryl whisper something—probably betting on how soon you'd crash.

But you didn't. You steadied yourself. It was a weird feeling—kind of thrilling, kind of terrifying.

"Well, look at that," you said, showing him a grin. "Didn't fall over. Guess you're not the worst teacher after all."

"Jus' keep 'em hands on the bars," he instructed, his voice rather patient—well, as patient as Daryl ever got.

You did as he said, gripping the handlebars harder, trying not to think about how close you were to him. His smell wasn't exactly unpleasant. In fact, it was kind of… intoxicating.

Not that you'd ever admit that to him out loud.

"Fine, so what's next? Do I just rev it up and hope for the best?"

Daryl snorted, clearly unimpressed with you being unable to wait. "Ya listen, or yer gonna end up on yer ass."

"You know, Daryl, I don't usually take threats during lessons, but I'll make an exception for you."

His grip tightened on the handlebars, and you thought he might just leave you there. But he didn't. "Don't jerk the damn throttle, woman, or yer gonna take off too fast."

"Throttle, got it. Don't jerk it off. Guess I'll save that one for later." You wiggled your eyebrows, even though he couldn't see it.

Daryl stiffened, grumbling something you didn't quite catch, though it definitely wasn't a compliment.

"C'mon now, twist it—slowly," he ordered.

You followed his lead, the motorcycle easing forward just a bit as you worked the throttle.

"There ya go," Daryl said, his voice sounding a bit less harsh now that you weren't about to play around. "Gotta ease into it."

"Wow, who knew you could be so supportive?" You teased. "Almost makes me think you care."

He grunted. "Jus' don't wanna pick yer ass up off the ground."

"Got it, got it. Now, let's see if I can actually ride this thing without killing myself."

Daryl's hand moved to the clutch, his fingers touching yours as he guided you through the motions. You weren't sure if it was the machine or him, but your heart was beating much faster than usual. Maybe it was both. Either way, you were in for one hell of a ride.

His hand was warm, calloused, and—despite everything—comforting as he guided you out of the garage.

"Okay, slow down a bit, but not too much," he instructed, his voice almost a growl. The way he said it made you shiver, but you refused to let it show. You could be cool about this, right?

"Or I could just go full throttle and see how far I can fly through the streets of Alexandria," you laughed back.

"Real funny," he answered, rolling his eyes. "Jus' don't fuck up. Y'ain't flyin' nowhere. Ya gotta keep it steady."

"Right, no jerking off," you said, moving your head to the side just enough to glance at him. "That's usually my motto, you know, but I can make an exception for you regarding that as well."

"Focus. Don't push it," he warned. "Ya gotta keep yer focus on the bike, not me."

"Really? I thought you were my main distraction." You leaned back a little. "Sure, I'll focus. But I'm also pretty good at multitasking." As you worked the throttle again, you felt a rush of adrenaline. "So, what happens if I actually do fall? You gonna come to my rescue?"

Daryl didn't answer immediately. Instead, he loosened his grip on the handlebars, his body tense next to you. "Ya get back up. Everyone falls. 'S what ya do afterward that matters."

"Profound," you smirked. "You should start writing poetry! 'When life knocks you down, just get back on your bike.' Classic wisdom."

"Shut up and drive."

The motorcycle moved as you used the throttle too hard, and you fought to regain control, laughing nervously. "Shit! Maybe I should have listened to that part about not jerking it!"

He sighed, not bothering to hide his amusement this time. "Ya keep talkin', and ya might jus' convince me to kick ya off myself."

"Promises, promises," you smirked, adrenaline rushing through you, making everything feel a bit more exciting.

He grumbled something again—probably another insult—but he didn't try to stop you. Your movements weren't exactly smooth, but it was a start.

"You're a terrible teacher, by the way," you soon said, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

"Good," Daryl answered. "Means ya won't ask me to do this shit again."

You were just getting into the rhythm, feeling the motorcycle beneath you and getting the hang of it, when you heard the sound of footsteps getting closer behind you.

"Hey! What's going on here?" Aaron's voice destroyed the moment, and you felt Daryl tense near you.

"Shit," he groaned, practically gritting his teeth. You tried to process what was happening as you got off the seat, the way Daryl's body stiffened and the smirk faded from your lips.

"Oh, nothing, just a little driving lesson," you announced, trying to keep going despite the sudden stop. "Motto: 'Try Not to Die, but If You Do, It Ain't My Problem.'"

Aaron laughed, walking closer to you both. "So, it's finally finished?" He looked at the machine, inspecting the mix of parts that somehow came together into something that resembled a proper motorcycle.

"Jus' 'bout," Daryl replied dryly.

Aaron raised an eyebrow, looking from you to Daryl, who was already stepping away from him and you.

"That's great. Looks like you're making some great progress," Aaron continued, stepping closer.

"Ain't needin' ya to worry 'bout that," Daryl grumbled, the annoyance in his voice unmistakable. "Lesson's over."

"Wait, what? You can't just—"

"Don't push it," he snapped, shooting you a look that said he was done. "Ya wanna learn, ya have to find someone else."

You blinked, stunned as he walked away with the motorcycle by his side. "Daryl, stop!"

"Forget 'bout it," he called back, almost like his voice belonged to a different person. "Y'ain't ready."

Your frustration boiled over, and you turned to Aaron, arms crossed. "Thanks for ruining my lesson, by the way. Just what I needed today—more interruptions."

Aaron frowned, glancing between you and Daryl again as he watched him walk away. "What did you expect? He's still new here. Trying to keep his distance from the rest of us."

"Yeah, well, he doesn't need to be an asshole about it," you snapped. "I was getting somewhere!"

"You have to understand that the whole group has been through a lot. Daryl's not always going to be open with people," he explained, but it didn't help your mood.

"I get that, but I was just trying to learn something! Guess it's my fault for thinking he could actually teach me without being a complete asshole about it."

"Maybe give it some time?" Aaron suggested, his voice softer now, sounding more sympathetic. "He'll come around."

"Maybe," you sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration. "But just when I thought I could finally get him to smile and to talk, you pull this."

Aaron's expression was by now somewhere between concern and curiosity as you huffed, glaring at Daryl walking away.

"Really, Aaron…" You continued, throwing your hands in the air. "You couldn't have waited five goddamn minutes longer to come and ruin my day? You see me finally making some progress, and you think, 'Oh, hey! The perfect time to interrupt!'"

Aaron raised his hands defensively. "Hey, I didn't mean to ruin anything. I didn't know you two were having... whatever that was."

"Whatever that was?" You repeated, your voice rising. "It was a goddamn driving lesson! Or, at least, it was supposed to be before you came along with your good intentions and your bad timing!"

Aaron frowned, the tone in his voice still kind, but he wasn't backing down. "Look, I was just checking in because I heard the sound of the engine. I thought Daryl wanted to head out, and I only wanted to see if he's done with his work on the bike. I didn't realize you were both so busy."

"Busy?" You let out a loud laugh, shaking your head. "You know what? Forget it. Next time I'm about to get Daryl Dixon to do something other than grunt or skin dead animals on the porch, I'll write you a goddamn note so you don't fuck it up. Now he's all pissed off and stomping away with my only chance at learning how to ride a damn bike and not kill myself."

"I doubt he's mad at you," Aaron responded. "Daryl's complicated. Like the rest of the group. They're still very new here. And you were the same when I found you and brought you here. But you're probably closer to getting through to him than anyone else."

You snorted. "Yeah, sure. 'Cause nothing says 'bonding' and 'getting to know each other' like storming off with his damn Franken-bike in a hurry. Really fucking touching."

Aaron smiled, squeezing your shoulder. "Just think about it."

You exhaled loudly, putting your hands on your hips. "Sounds like it's from a fortune cookie. Thanks for nothing."

With that, Aaron simply walked off, leaving you alone.

Soon, some days had passed since your lesson with Daryl. Days that quickly turned annoying when you realized he was avoiding you like you were the last slice of cold pizza at a party.

It felt weird.

Like, ridiculously weird.

And it didn't help that every time you tried to casually walk into the garage or catch him before he went on a supply run, he was either nowhere to be found or suddenly too busy to talk. You even half-expected to see a 'Do Not Disturb' sign near the bike.

It wasn't like you were stalking him—okay, maybe a little—but it was hard to stop thinking about him.

"Should I ask for him? Should I knock on the garage door? Maybe he's just sleeping? Or dead?" You laughed at the last thought. With Daryl, it wasn't a real possibility.

Finally, you sighed and decided to call it a day. "Alright, Daryl Dixon, you win," you said to yourself, kicking the dirt as you turned to leave.

But just as you made it halfway down the street, you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps, followed by a clink of metal that made your heart race. You turned, and there he was—finally. Daryl Dixon, leaning against the side of the garage, arms crossed, his eyes hidden behind his hair, and with a cigarette in one hand.

Oh no, you're not getting away this time.

"Been hiding from me, huh?" You asked as soon as you reached him. "Gonna run off again? Or maybe you've just been too busy?" You faked a yawn, your eyes narrowing. "Or hiding from the bike lesson, maybe?"

Daryl simply scoffed, the only sign of life you got out of him as you stood a few inches from him. His eyes looked down, clearly not thrilled to see you standing there, but you didn't give a damn.

You put your hands on your hips, pretending to inspect him like he was the most boring human in Alexandria. "Hey… You did promise, you know? I didn't just imagine that part now, did I?"

"Dunno what yer talkin' 'bout."

You raised an eyebrow, your smile growing wider. "Oh? Sure feels like it. Guess you finally realized you're not as good of a teacher as you think."

Daryl sighed, sounding not only frustrated but... pissed off? Maybe both?

"Don't need to explain shit to ya," he grumbled in return.

You grinned, shrugging. "Well, if you're busy doing... whatever it is you do when you're not being an asshole, I guess I'll just go back to trying to learn from someone else." You turned to leave, but not without looking back over your shoulder again. "Don't worry. I won't ask you to teach me again."

That got him. He pushed himself off the garage, taking a few steps closer.

"You promised, Daryl. Or is that just another thing you like to say and not follow through with? You were gonna teach me. Not that I care; I'm sure I'll learn from someone else... unless you finally stop being an ass," you taunted, still looking over your shoulder at him.

Daryl's hand shot out before you could get too far, catching your arm in a grip that could've cracked a tree in half if he wanted it to. He was definitely pissed.

With a growl, he yanked you back toward him. "Fine. I'll teach ya. But not here. Not in Alexandria." He released your arm. "Meet me by the gates. Tomorrow, at dawn."

Without waiting for a response, Daryl walked back inside, leaving you standing there with a grin.

The next morning, you woke up early, a little earlier than you'd planned, but that was the least of your problems. There was a knot in your stomach that you couldn't get rid of, not even with a few stretches or by putting on your clothes.

This wasn't just another run. It wasn't just another 'do this or die trying' kinda deal. No, this was different. And for some reason, you were extremely nervous. What was he gonna do? What was he thinking?

You threw on your jacket, tied your boots like they were the last thing you'd ever do, and then... you hesitated.

What the hell was wrong with you?

With a deep breath, you forced yourself out the door and towards the gates of Alexandria. When you finally made it, you saw him. There he was—Daryl Dixon, standing there like he was waiting for the bus, except minus the whole 'bus' part. The motorcycle was leaned up against the walls, and he was staring straight ahead as if you were the last person he wanted to see right now.

"Well, damn. You did show up. Thought maybe you'd hide behind that attitude of yours for another day," you said, taking your time to walk up to him, not quite giving a damn whether he was ready for you or not.

But Daryl didn't even acknowledge you. He just flicked his cigarette away and gave you a look that could probably kill.

He then grunted, clearly not amused. "Ain't here to talk."

You looked at him, smirking a little. "Oh, I thought we were here to talk. 'Cause last time I checked, you were too busy to teach me anything useful. Guess you did promise, isn't that right?" You continued and raised an eyebrow. "So... what's the deal, huh? You just gonna stand there, or are we gonna start this driving lesson?"

He was still giving you that dead-eyed stare like you just asked him to swallow down rusty nails. The way Daryl was looking at you, all calm but irritated at the same time—it made everything weirder. But now, you had no choice. You had to get on that machine if you wanted to learn.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped closer to him after he took the motorcycle and got onto it himself. "Get on."

You hesitated before swinging your leg over it as well, the movement too awkward to be smooth. There was no denying it—there was a whole lot of you that wasn't exactly eager to be pressed up against him.

You bit your lip but tried to keep your cool. "Alright, I'm on."

Daryl didn't answer. He just started the engine, his hands gripping the handlebars, and that was when you had to settle into place—right behind him. You were close now—way too close—and that knot in your stomach was only tightening itself. You couldn't help it. You had to steady yourself, right? And as much as you hated to admit it, you found yourself sliding your hands down, almost instinctively. But... it wasn't enough.

And it wasn't fair. Nothing about this was fair. The way he was so broad, strong, and so very close made it impossible to think straight. Your palms were sweating, and it wasn't because you were nervous about falling off. It was him. Just him. And God, it was infuriating, letting your thoughts run wild.

Why does he have to smell so good? Why can't he just be an asshole and not… this?

Your hands moved. Lower.

You didn't mean to, but... there you were. Your fingers grabbed his hips, right there in front of you and so, so very close. He was warm, so warm, and you couldn't not notice it, even if you tried. But you weren't even trying.

Oh, no. Don't. Don't do it. Not now...

But your hands stayed right there. Resting on his hips. You couldn't help it.

God, he feels good. Warm. Strong. Hell, if I slide even lower, maybe I can make him feel me, too. What if I just—

You quickly cut your thoughts off, but the temptation was there. It was stupid. It's Daryl, you reminded yourself, though it didn't make the racing of your heart in your chest any less intense.

"Quit it. Jus' hold on," he suddenly said, still keeping his focus on the road in front of you.

You snapped out of it, blinking as though you were just pulled back from the edge of a cliff.

"Me?" You shot back, trying to sound as neutral as possible, hoping he didn't feel the way your heart was pounding. "You're the one acting like you've got a stick up your ass. Don't act like I'm the problem here."

Daryl didn't respond—again. His hands tightened on the handlebars, and you felt him move slightly on the motorcycle. You wondered if he could feel the way you were still pressed against him, too. If he noticed, he didn't give any sign, but hell, you weren't sure whether that was calming you down or just making everything worse.

Your hands were still grabbing his hips. Still low. Still in the danger zone. And every second you stayed on that seat that close behind him, the more you realized just how close you were to crossing a line you couldn't uncross, too.

Just stop touching him like that. For God's sake, control yourself...

But it was too late, wasn't it? Your hands were already doing what they wanted, sliding ever so slightly as Daryl revved the engine beneath you. And as the machine roared further and you felt the vibration between your legs, you couldn't deny it—you were holding on tight...

And shit, you hated yourself for it, but you couldn't think straight.

Your hands—those traitorous, slightly trembling hands—started to move further without you even trying. At first, you could feel the hardness of his muscles under his shirt. You didn't mean to, but your fingers couldn't resist anymore.

What the hell is wrong with me?

You kept telling yourself you weren't like this, but the warmth of his body in front of you, the vibrations of the motorcycle—the whole situation—it was clearly messing with your head.

And then your fingers touched the waistband of his pants. Your mind started spiraling.

Fuck, stop it.

But your hands were moving still, just a little further, and before you could catch yourself, you were dangerously close to slipping one whole hand past the button of his pants.

Why does this feel so fucking good? So right? No! This is so wrong!

You knew you shouldn't be doing this. You were driving yourself crazy just being this close to him. You should pull away and act like nothing happened. But the thought of him—of the way he looked, the way he smelled—it was too much.

Should I really keep going? You wondered, heart racing. What if I just slide my hand inside and just feel him?

The idea was so sudden it made your stomach growl, but you couldn't stop imagining it. The way he'd react—if he'd stop the motorcycle and throw you off, or if he'd just let you have your way.

But your hand froze at the button of his pants, resting there, barely touching it. You hated how much you wanted to go further, how much you needed to.

Pull back. Move your hand away. Stop thinking about how strong he is.

The way his muscles moved under your fingers, how he wasn't even saying one thing to stop you. Did he want this? Did he feel it too? You hated how much you wanted to find out.

But Daryl kept driving, focusing on the surroundings and possible dangers as you left Alexandria.

Why isn't he stopping me?

He was tense, but that was it. No words, no warnings. And that drove you wild.

Maybe he wants this as much as I do.

Your mind was on fire now, and you wanted him so badly, it felt like your whole body was about to explode. And the weirdest part? You weren't sure you even cared anymore if this was wrong.

If you don't stop me, I swear I'll—

You didn't finish that thought, and as soon as Daryl pulled off the road and into a clearing surrounded by trees, the motorcycle came to a stop.

"This'll do," he said, getting off it and motioning for you to follow.

You stumbled off, your legs still shaky from holding yourself together.

Right now, you wanted to hate him. To scream at him. But the truth was, you were more pissed at yourself. You were supposed to be learning how to ride a motorcycle, not imagining what it would feel like to be all over him and…

No. Stop it. Get your shit together.

"Alright, what's next?" You asked, doing your best to sound casual even as your heart was still racing. "You gonna teach me how not to eat dirt or just let me ride it?"

Daryl glared at you, one eyebrow raised like you were the one making this complicated. "Jus' pay attention."

You snorted, shaking your head. "Sure, 'cause that's been working out for me so far." You crossed your arms, a little too aware of how your body felt like it was overheating.

Stop thinking about him, stop thinking about him...

He was already gesturing to the motorcycle again, explaining the controls all over. "Clutch, brake, throttle—all that stuff."

You nodded, doing your best to stay focused despite how goddamn awkward you felt.

Focus; you can do this.

You glanced at him and caught the way his hands moved around near you, the way his fingers got hold of the throttle like he was born to do this.

"Ya won't wreck it if ya listen."

You scoffed, trying to hide your nerves. "Yeah… 'if,' but okay."

Daryl took a step closer, the space between you suddenly feeling way too small. "Stop makin' jokes, and start payin' some real attention."

You could feel how he stared you down, even without looking into his eyes, and before you could stop yourself, you were blushing—hard.

Shit, shit, shit.

He then smirked, only a little, and you wanted to punch him for it. Or kiss him. You weren't sure. Either way, you tugged at the collar of your shirt like it was too tight, but there was no escaping it.

Daryl was watching you, though his smirk was already gone again. "Jus' sit down on it. Let's see if ya can at least do that alone while out here, without fallin' over."

You had to swallow hard.

Just get on, just get on, and don't think about him.

Your mind was screaming at you to stop acting like you wanted to crawl all over him, but your body was betraying you.

And Daryl for sure wasn't even trying to make it easier, and all you could do was grit your teeth and pray you didn't lose it.

The first time you tried to balance the motorcycle, you almost tipped it over, but Daryl quickly got a hold of it—and you—before you really ate dirt.

"Goddamn it," he groaned, yanking you upright and keeping the motorcycle steady. "Yer fightin' the damn thing instead o' drivin' it. Quit makin' it harder for yerself."

You shot him a glare but didn't respond, figuring it was easier to just get the lesson over with. This time, he stepped in behind you, hands landing on your waist like he was holding onto a ticking time bomb. His grip tightened just enough to make you aware of his presence, but you weren't going to let him throw you off balance.

"Ease up on the damn clutch," he grumbled. "Slowly. Ya ain't in a damn hurry."

By the third or fourth try, you were starting to get the hang of it. You made it a few feet without the motorcycle wobbling like it had been possessed. You didn't even stall it this time.

"Look at me!" You grinned over your shoulder at him all triumphant as you stopped at a treeline. "I'm basically a stunt double at this point! Wanna try jumping flaming buses next?"

Daryl shot you that look again. The one that made you want to throw something at him. "Nah, yer bein' an amateur stunt double wantin' to set yerself on fire… 'cause ya can't keep yer hands to yerself."

You ignored him.

You had it now. You totally had it.

But who needed to play it safe when you could push this lesson to the limit and prove yourself?

You twisted the throttle again but felt a sudden rush of speed. "Shit!" You screamed from far away. "Fuck!"

"What the hell are ya doin'?!" Daryl shouted before you were hurtling forward at fast speed, your stomach dropping as it made everything around you blurry in sight. You had no idea how to stop in the heat of the moment without throwing yourself off it, and that realization hit you hard. You were in panic mode now, and trying to steer only made it worse.

"Daryl? A little help here, please!" You screamed, gripping the handlebars as your hands shook.

"Hold on!" Daryl yelled, but his warning was already too late. The front wheel hit something—a big rock? A tree stump? You didn't even see it. All you knew was that the motorcycle lurched like a wild animal wanting to throw you off its back.

For a moment, you were sure you were about to die. But Daryl wasn't about to let that happen. He lunged forward, grabbing you and yanking you off the seat just before it tipped completely and threw you off.

You and Daryl went down, both of you slamming into the ground hard. You landed on top of him—completely on top of him, with your thighs pressed against his hips and your upper body crashing against his chest.

You knew you fucked up, but his expression only made it worse. The slight pain in your body was nothing compared to the humiliation you felt. All you could do was catch your breath and stare at him.

And Daryl was flat-out pissed. His face was full of rage, and he was breathing hard from the crash. He shoved you off him, his hands on your shoulders as he stood up.

"What the hell were ya thinkin'!?" His eyes were practically burning holes through you. "I told ya to slow the hell down and focus! Ya don't listen for shit!"

You didn't want to admit that he was right, that you'd been very reckless. "Well, maybe you should've taught me how to actually ride instead of standing there like a statue and just barking orders!"

Daryl's hands were clenched into fists at his sides.

He wasn't just angry.

He was livid.

You were both breathing fast now, adrenaline still running through your veins. "And maybe I'm just a fast learner, okay?" You continued.

Daryl looked at you like he was about to rip you in half. "Yer not a fast learner; yer a damn idiot! And now I gotta drag yer dumb ass back!"

He grabbed the motorcycle and swung his leg over it with a grunt. "Get the fuck on," he growled in frustration.

You glared at him for a moment, but you weren't about to argue. You had to get home. You had no choice but to follow him.

Throwing your leg over the seat, you settled behind him. You couldn't even look up now. Every time you did, your stomach hurt in a way that made no sense. The anger, the shame—it was all so degrading. You wanted to argue. You really did. But you were too embarrassed, and your body was too sore to keep up any fight.

Daryl started the engine, and the motorcycle roared to life under you. As he sped down the road, you couldn't help but notice how tense his body still was. Every muscle in his back seemed to be stiff. And he didn't say a word anymore. Not a single word as you rode back toward Alexandria in silence.

His hands gripped the handlebars with such force, you swore the motorcycle might crack in half under the pressure if he kept it up.

You were pissed as well. Pissed at yourself for fucking up and pissed at him for making you feel all... this. You hated that you couldn't read him, hated how he could just shut everything out like that, and especially for making you feel something you didn't want to feel.

Once back at Alexandria, the garage door had barely been shut when Daryl's frustration exploded. He was still breathing hard from the ride, and he hadn't pushed you away since you'd now gotten back, but the way he was glaring at you said enough.

He took a step toward you, pushing you back a little. "Crashed my damn bike…"

"I didn't wreck it, Daryl," you argued. "It's fine!"

"Fine?" He repeated. "That's what ya call near splittin' yer skull open?"

"I didn't crash on purpose!" You shot back, the frustration boiling over. "I'm not dumb!"

He let out a mean laugh, his eyes narrowing. "Coulda fooled me, dumbass!"

"You're the one all trembling here, not me!" You crossed your arms, trying to hold onto whatever bit of defiance was left. "It was an accident, Daryl," you continued, glaring right back at him. "It's not like I'm trying to be your damn stunt double!"

He scoffed, not buying your excuse. "Bullshit. Ya were pushin' it, tryin' to prove somethin', weren't ya? Ya coulda gotten yerself killed!"

Maybe he was right; maybe you had been showing off, but why bother with giving him the satisfaction and letting him know that it was the truth?

"What's your problem, Dixon? It isn't like I destroyed the damn thing," you scoffed.

He shot you a glare. "Problem is, ya don't think. Out there, one screw-up ain't jus' a scratch—it's the difference 'tween comin' back or not comin' back at all!"

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, please! Spare me the PSA! It isn't like I don't know how this shit works! We're all one wrong turn away from dead anyway! What's the big deal?"

"The big deal," he growled, "is ya don't get to pull that shit with my bike!"

His finger shot out, pointing toward the side of the motorcycle. "Look at this," he growled. "Ya see that?"

You glanced where he was pointing and shrugged. "What, a couple of scratches? Boo-fucking-hoo! Rub some dirt with your spit on it; it'll be fine!"

"Couple o' scratches?" His voice rose, and he bent down to run a hand along the damaged part. "Ya know how I worked on this, ain't that right? To get it runnin' smooth?"

He crouched, looking at the machine like he was inspecting a wounded animal. "Look."

"What?"

"Look," he snarled once more, pointing his finger at the gas tank.

Reluctantly, you stepped closer, peering over his shoulder. The scratches weren't as bad as you'd expected—some scuffed paint and a tiny dent, hardly catastrophic.

"Oh no," you pretended to be shocked and threw your hands up. "It's ruined! Better put it out of its misery!"

Daryl turned around, staring at you in disbelief and anger. "That funny to ya?"

"A little," you shot back, trying to ignore the way your heart pounded. "Newsflash, Dixon! This is a hunk of metal. It'll survive!"

His jaw clenched, and he stood up so fast you stumbled back. "Ain't the damn point," he snapped, stepping closer.

"Then what is the point?" You demanded in return.

"The point is," he growled, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous register, "ya don't listen. Yer always so goddamn dumb, thinkin' ya know better—"

"I do know better!" You interrupted him. "I could rebuild this bike with my eyes closed! Hell, I could build you a new one from… a scratch!"

Daryl's hands dropped to his sides, his breathing fast as he stared at you. His eyes looked down to your arms, and you followed his line of sight, realizing for the first time that you were trembling.

His eyes softened, just for a second. "Ya hurt?"

"No," you lied, crossing your arms to hide the shaking.

Daryl huffed, and his frustration was boiling over again. "Bullshit."

He moved toward you, closing the space between you as he grabbed you by the arm. You flinched but didn't pull away. His grip tightened, pulling you back toward the motorcycle you'd nearly wrecked.

"Get on," he growled, holding you still.

You froze, glaring at him. "Excuse me?"

"Get on the fuckin' bike," he repeated, his eyes narrowing.

You shook your head. "You're out of your damn mind."

But you didn't fight it when he shoved you over to the seat, guiding you like you were weighing nothing at all. You hadn't expected this—his touch and his obvious anger.

But it wasn't just the crash. No. It was the way his eyes looked at you—like he was waiting for you to back down, to beg for mercy even.

"What?" You scoffed. "You're pissed 'cause I fucked up your bike? Is that it? So fucking ridiculous!"

"'S part of it," he answered, and before you could respond, his hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him.

And you weren't sure what you expected from him, but you didn't expect the force of his lips on yours.

His kiss was aggressive. It wasn't tender. It wasn't gentle. It was all teeth and tongue and the feel of his stubble against your skin.

You tried to pull back, pushing at his chest. "What the hell—!"

"Shut the fuck up."

You barely had time to react before he was pushing you against the motorcycle, and his hands found their way under your shirt. It was almost too much to bear—the roughness of his touch. It had no place here, not with you two practically being strangers in this world, but somehow it made sense.

And no, you didn't pull away. Not now.

"Daryl—" You cut yourself off when his hand slid down to your waistband, tugging at your pants, a movement that was fast and urgent. Your breath hitched, a gasp escaping your throat.

He didn't respond, not in words anyway, as he lowered himself to his knees in front of you, his hands on your thighs, forcing you to stay still.

He wanted you—had wanted you, maybe for longer than he'd ever care to admit.

You gasped again when he pulled your pants down roughly, his hands moving along your hips before dragging them down your legs. You knew his hands were capable—he could gut a deer in under a minute, rebuild a bike from scratch—but this? This was a whole different level of skill, and you weren't sure whether to be impressed or terrified by how quickly he had you undone.

But you didn't have time to process it before Daryl was standing again, his face dangerously close to yours, eyes burning with a fire that made you blush.

God, his eyes.

They weren't just looking at you—they were staring you down.

Before you could say anything else, he kissed you again, deeper this time, his hands sliding down to your hips and pushing himself closer until there was no space between your bodies.

And then, his fingers slipped beneath your panties, and he slid two of them into you. Without warning.

You cried out at the suddenness of it, at the overwhelming feeling, but you didn't stop him.

"Still think I'm tremblin'?" He asked as he moved them inside you with a pace that made your head spin. You couldn't think. Couldn't breathe.

Sure, he was frustrated—but now it was all coming out, only in a way that you'd never expected. You didn't know what this was—what this would be afterward—but damn if it didn't feel like the only thing that mattered right now.

As his breath turned quicker against your neck, the urgency of his fingers quickened, too. Until he pulled them out of you. The moment he removed his hand, licking his fingers clean, you almost cursed aloud, the emptiness threatening to drive you mad.

He didn't give you time to say anything, didn't even let you think about it, because in the next moment, his hands were yanking your shirt up over your head, and your bra was gone just as fast.

But the way he studied you, every inch of you—like he was savoring the moment as if you were a piece of art he needed to drink in—made everything feel too much. Too much to take. Too much to bear. But also too good to stop.

You couldn't protest, couldn't do anything but let him have his way, and your eyes squeezed shut as you fought to hold it together.

Without a word, Daryl kneeled back down onto the ground again, his hands moving to your thighs, pushing them apart for him.

"Open yer eyes," he ordered, but you didn't. You just couldn't. But you could feel him there, right between your legs, and the anticipation was nearly killing you.

No, you couldn't do anything but obey as his hand was pulling your panties down and his other hand's thumb stroked across your clit, but something else caught his attention. A bruise on your thigh started to slowly form itself from when you'd crashed.

And then, without a word, he leaned forward, his lips pressing hard against the bruise. His teeth bit into the skin, and then he sucked on it with a hunger that had nothing to do with the motorcycle and the crash.

You gasped loudly, eyes opening wide as the sharp sting of his bite was followed by the slow, deep suck of his mouth.

His lips left the bruise for a moment, but it wasn't gone long. His tongue licked over the edges of it, then his teeth, scraping some more, making your legs shiver with lust and a little bit of pain.

As his fingers moved toward and away from your wet pussy, to brush over the scratches on one leg from the crash, you could feel the pressure of his touch as he traced over each one. He didn't care about the discomfort it caused, didn't care about the marks—they were his to play with.

A growl left his throat as he scratched them a little harder, just a little deeper, making you whimper.

You didn't even realize you were staring at him until his blue eyes looked up into yours, a silent claim that went deeper than anything else.

"Ain't lettin' ya look away," he warned as his hands gripped your thighs again, forcing your trembling legs to stay open for him.

And God, they were.

His touch was everything you didn't know you needed as he slipped his fingers back into you—simply all-consuming. His thumb stroked your clit yet again, and you were sure you were going to lose it way too fast.

And the way he kept looking at you—like he was daring you to look away…

But you didn't. Not once.

The pressure was building, that sweet, unbearable pressure, until it felt like you were going to burst into flames.

Indeed, it was pure fire.

"Eyes on me," he growled. "Don't ya look away."

His fingers found their rhythm, slow but deep, making you moan out loud, trying your hardest to keep your eyes open and on him.

"Yeah, 's it," he growled. "Focus."

You nodded wildly, the feeling overtaking everything, your body desperate for more. Every bit of your skin was burning, and you hated how badly you needed this.

"Daryl… I," you gasped, your hands holding on for dear life on the motorcycle seat, trying to stay upright but close to losing the battle with every pump. "I can't—fuck!"

"Can't what? Focus? Ain't nothin' new," he answered, his thumb still on your clit while his fingers were thrusting away. "Can't handle it? Ya jus' gotta focus. Keep yer eyes on me."

You were close, so fucking close already, but he wasn't letting up.

His fingers moved so roughly inside of you, pressing against your G-spot, which soon made you feel certain this was it—this was the moment.

Your legs were shaking hard, your breath coming in quick, desperate moans. "Fuck… fuck…" You whimpered, fingers tightening on the seat behind you.

But then he stopped. Just stopped.

The sudden loss of his fingers was like being thrown into a room full of walkers. You groaned, your hips bucking in a desperate attempt to go after what was just within reach, but he pulled his hand away completely, leaving you trembling and half-crazed.

"What the fuck, Daryl!" You cried out loud as you glared down at him, but Daryl only had the audacity to smirk, licking his fingers off once more like you hadn't been about to shatter into pieces.

"Keep still and shut up," he growled, and before you could scream at him, his head was between your legs.

Your words turned into a choked cry as his tongue moved over your clit, the feeling of his stubble against your inner thighs making you squirm.

It wasn't fair. You were already so close, your body trembling so hard it hurt, but now he was dragging it out, taking his sweet-ass time, licking and sucking like he had all damn day.

"Fuck—fucking hell, Daryl," you hissed, hands grabbing his hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan against you. The vibrations shot straight through you, making your thighs clench around his head, but he didn't stop—he didn't even flinch.

"Thought ya were so good at takin' risks," he taunted, his lips brushing against your clit as he spoke.

And with that, he sucked on it so hard you nearly screamed, the feeling of it being just on the edge of pain, but God, it was perfect. You were so damn close again, and this time, you needed it.

If he pulled away now, you swore you'd kill him.

"Please," you whimpered, your hips grinding against his mouth in a way that should've embarrassed you. "Daryl, fuck, don't you dare stop again—"

His grip tightened on your thighs, keeping you exactly where he wanted you as his tongue pushed you further and further until there was nowhere left to go but over the edge.

But it wasn't just his mouth—oh no. His hands were keeping you in place, his fingers pressing into your skin like he was claiming you, and maybe he was. You didn't care. You just wanted more.

"Fuck—Daryl, I'm—" Your voice broke, too far gone to even finish the sentence.

He pulled back just enough to growl, "What? Yer what?" His voice was rough and way too sarcastic for a man who was driving you insane.

"Stop it and finish me!" You snapped, your hands pulling at his hair like it would somehow speed him up.

He laughed—actually laughed—and that sound went straight through you. But before you could cuss him out for being an 'insufferable bastard,' his fingers were back on you, two sliding inside so easily you swore you saw stars.

Your breath hitched, and then he added a third.

"Fuck—holy shit!" You gasped, your thighs trembling as he stretched you wide. The feeling was nearly too much, but it was just right, and when his fingers started pumping in and out, so deep and hard, you couldn't do anything but ride it out.

He looked up at you then, his blue eyes searching for yours. You wanted to look away, to hide from the way he was watching you like he was saving every second of this to memory, but you didn't. He wouldn't let you.

"Eyes on me," he growled. "Don't ya fuckin' look away."

You didn't think you could blush any harder—you didn't think you had the energy left for it—but then his other hand moved, his thumb pressing into the bruise on your thigh, just hard enough to make you wince.

"Shit—Daryl, that hurts!" You hissed at him, but his grip tightened, keeping you still.

"Good," he growled, looking at you. "Should hurt."

His fingers inside your pussy were picking up speed, driving you mad with how good they felt.

"Ya think I'm jus' gonna let ya off easy after crashin' my bike?"

He pressed harder into the bruise, making you whimper from the pain that somehow only made everything hotter.

"Nah. Yer gonna feel this. Remember this."

You hated how much it turned you on—the sting of his thumb on your bruise along with the pumping of his fingers inside you and the way his mouth was so close to your clit again.

"Please—fuck—please," you begged, not even sure what you were asking for anymore. You just needed something—anything—to finally push you over the edge.

"C'mon," he growled against you, not stopping. "C'mon, woman. Fuckin' let go. Let me fuckin' have it."

And that was it. That was all it took.

Everything inside you exploded so intensely you moaned out loud, your whole body arching as the orgasm ripped through you.

"Fuck—fuck, Daryl!"

You tried to keep your legs from giving out, but they were done, trembling so hard you had no choice but to lean fully against the motorcycle once more, trying to hold yourself steady. But Daryl didn't stop. His mouth stayed on you, his tongue again working your clit, dragging out every last bit of your orgasm until you were shaking all over, whimpering and sobbing from the overstimulation.

Only then did he pull his fingers out in a way that made sure you'd feel everything.

But before you could catch your breath, his hands were on you again, gripping your thighs like they belonged to him. Without a word, he hoisted your legs up, wrapping them around his neck. The sudden movement made you yelp, but he didn't care—not one bit.

"What the fuck are you—"

"Shut up," he growled, his voice ragged as he shifted you off the motorcycle and onto his shoulders like you weighed nothing. "Focus."

The cold floor hit your back as he lowered you down, your body shivering against it. He moved near you, his hands gripping your thighs to keep them spread wide as he settled between them again, his face just inches from where you were still dripping for him.

You barely had time to process the new position before his tongue was back on you, licking slow and deep, making you moan aloud through the garage. All you could do was writhe and shake beneath him, your hands searching for anything to grab and hold onto—his hair, his shoulders, the cold floor—trying to keep still as he worked you over.

But then, just when you thought he'd keep going until you couldn't take anymore, he moved, his mouth leaving your pussy as he started to lick and kiss—hot, wet, and sloppy—all over you.

And he didn't move fast. He took his time, crawling up your body like he was deciding which part of you he should tease next. You felt his breath across your skin, so warm yet unsteady, while his hands worked on keeping you exactly where he wanted you—legs spread wide, no room to close yourself off, no room to argue.

His hands? Oh, you knew those hands could kill you if they wanted to, but the way he traced the edges of the scratches on your thigh? Fuck, it was worse. Slow. On purpose. Just enough pressure to remind you it was there. A reminder you didn't need, but apparently, he thought you needed.

The tip of his thumb ran over them once, twice, then pressed down harder. You flinched—it was pure instinct—but his other hand clamped down on your leg, pinning you to the floor. His thumb didn't move, didn't give you a break. If anything, he pressed harder, and you hissed through your teeth. He groaned, low and deep, like your slight discomfort was exactly what he wanted.

Daryl soon leaned down and kissed them. He kissed them like he was apologizing. Then his teeth grazed over the same scratches, and you realized he wasn't sorry for it at all. His tongue followed, licking slowly and wetly over the stinging feeling of them, and your back arched itself off the floor.

By the time he moved up to the bruise on your hips, his fingers found it first, pressing into your flesh like he was testing it, seeing how much it was hurting you. You flinched again, but this time, his response was immediate—a growl coming out of his throat as his fingers dug in deeper.

"Daryl," you started, but your voice cracked, and you knew that he wasn't listening anyway. His mouth replaced his fingers, and the first kiss of his lips made your head snap up.

Not soft, not tender—he sucked on the bruise as if he wanted to drag the pain out of you, to make you feel every sting of it.

He kept going, his mouth kissing up your ribs, licking, biting, sucking, finding every bruise that was forming itself, every scratch, and making sure you knew he'd found them.

"Fuckin' hell…" He whispered as his mouth moved higher, pressing kisses to your chest, in between your tits, before his tongue licked over one nipple.

You gasped as he sucked it into his mouth, one of his hands moving to tease the other, pinching and rolling it between his fingers.

"Daryl, please! Please… just—"

He didn't let up. He crawled higher over you, his body pinning you down, his mouth moving up to your collarbone, where his tongue licked over it next.

By the time he reached your neck, you were a mess, your hands now clawing at his shoulders, desperate for him to give you more, to stop teasing. And he knew it.

But he wasn't done. His teeth found your neck, and he bit down, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to leave a mark, your thighs instantly squeezing around his hips.

"Goddamn," he growled as his mouth finally reached yours. "Look atcha… all wrecked."

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, rough and hungry, his tongue pushing into your mouth like he needed to taste every part of you.

And fuck, you didn't care.

Daryl left no room for argument—not that you had any strength left to argue.

His hands were everywhere at once, sliding over your thighs, your hips, your waist. You moaned into his mouth as his fingers moved back down between your legs, slipping through the wetness he'd left behind when he dragged his fingers through your wet folds, and his smirk certainly showed that he was satisfied with himself.

He wasn't asking for permission, no, but he wasn't rushing either. And he was now giving you the chance to stop him without saying a word.

When you didn't push him away, he leaned back just enough to look at you. His blue eyes seemed darker now, his pupils all wide, searching for something, waiting.

Your hands slid up his strong back, trembling slightly but steadying themselves as they reached his shoulders. You gave him a small but quick nod as you took a shaky breath.

That was all he needed.

With a growl, Daryl's hands gripped your hips, flipping you over onto your stomach fast but not harshly. Before you could even process it all, he pressed himself down against your ass.

"Don't move," he whispered.

You weren't planning to.

He grabbed your hips again, pulling you back just enough to hold them upward. You felt his cock pressing against your ass, still in his pants but unmistakably hard as he grunted and pushed it against you, his hands only holding on harder.

The deep and loud groan he made? You couldn't help but push back against him.

You barely had time to listen to the sound of his zipper before he was back, his cock sliding between your thighs, teasing, the wetness of your pussy making it too easy for him to glide against you.

Your fingers were clawing at the floor as you tried to push back, but his hands held you in place.

His hips rocked forward, and the tip of his cock pressed into your pussy. You tensed, your breath stopping at the sheer size of it, but he didn't push in—not completely. He was letting you feel every inch of how big he was.

When he did push inside, it was enough to stretch you wide open, and with one slow thrust, he sank into you, filling you up. Still, Daryl didn't move right away. He stayed there, buried to the hilt, as he gave you a moment to adjust and made sure you were okay.

Then, he finally started to move.

Slow at first, his hips pulling back before thrusting forward again, each movement so controlled.

But it didn't take long for him to move faster.

Harder.

Deeper.

And you couldn't do anything but take it as he pinned you down.

"Daryl—" you moaned, but he cut you off with a growl, his arm sliding down around you, pulling your hips higher to give him better access.

"Don't talk," he ordered, trying not to lose himself. "Jus' take it."

And you did. God, you did.

The garage felt almost suffocating now, and all you could smell was the scent of sweat and sex. The only sounds to be heard were your fast-breathing moans of yourself and his feral grunts as Daryl moved behind you. Every thrust was deep, driving you forward just to pull you back again with a growl, his grip on your hips leaving marks you'd wear for days.

Your hands still searched for any kind of hold against the floor, trying to ground yourself as the intensity of it all threatened to break you apart. His cock stretched you in a way that still bordered on too much, each thrust rougher than the last, and yet you couldn't get enough of it—of him.

"Fuck," Daryl grunted, his voice sounding as if the word was being dragged out from deep inside him.

You couldn't respond to him, not with the way he filled you so completely, your body trembling under his control. But he didn't need any words in return from you. His hand slid from your hip, moving along your ass and up your spine, before he put his arm around your shoulders to keep you steady.

"Don't lose focus now," he growled, leaning over you, his chest brushing against your back. His stubble grazed along your shoulder as he pressed his mouth down, his lips rough, almost punishing. He bit down hard, his teeth sinking into your skin just enough to leave another mark.

You cried out, clenching around him involuntarily. "Daryl—"

"Shut up," he said, cutting you off with another bite to your shoulder, this one softer than the last. His teeth were still on the mark he'd made, right before his tongue soothed it, leaving you shivering.

Daryl's pace quickened, each thrust making your overstimulated body shudder.

"Goddamn, look atcha," he grumbled, his voice full of lust. "Really fuckin' wrecked, ain't ya?"

You whimpered in response, your head falling forward and almost hitting the floor, but your body was still being held on tight by his grip.

"Ya like that?"

You nodded.

"C'mon," he growled, his hand tightening around your chest to keep you steady as his thrusts grew erratic. "Stay with me, woman. Focus. Fuckin' focus."

You didn't have a choice. His arm around your chest and his cock buried so deep inside you made it impossible to think about anything else. And the pressure was building again, unavoidable, and you knew he could feel it—the way your pussy clenched around him, desperate to feel him come, too.

And he didn't slow down. He didn't ease the pace or give you any room to breathe. Instead, he buried his face against you again, his lips sucking on your neck, his tongue following to taste the sweat of your skin.

"Shit," he hissed, his voice all muffled against your neck. "Goddamn, ya feel so fuckin' good."

His hips thrust forward, harder and faster, and you could feel him getting close, his movements losing their rhythm as his breathing turned ragged.

"Fuck—fuck," he groaned, his arm moving from your chest to hold your hip again, his hand grabbing you roughly as his thrusts went deeper. "Gonna—fuck, I'm—"

He didn't finish the sentence. With a loud groan that was almost sounding more animal than man, he pulled out, his hand gripping his cock as he came all over your back with force.

You stayed there momentarily, still on the cold floor of the garage, as you tried to piece yourself back together. Your legs felt like jelly, trembling so badly you weren't even sure they'd hold you if you tried to stand up.

Daryl soon moved off behind you, his heavy breathing just as loud and uneven as yours as he leaned against the motorcycle for balance. His cum was feeling all warm across your back, but you didn't have the energy to care—not yet.

Finally, he straightened himself, pulling his pants back up and putting his softening cock away. You heard the sound of his footsteps next to you as he walked around the garage, and for a second, you thought he was going to leave you there, fucked and half-naked in the garage.

But not long after, he was back, something soft and slightly damp rubbing over your skin.

"Hold still," he grunted. "Gotta clean ya up."

You flinched, moving your head to see what he was doing. Daryl had an old, torn rag in one hand, smudged with a little bit of dry oil, but it was enough to do the job. His other hand pressed against your shoulder, holding you still as he wiped away the mess of his cum he'd left behind.

"You could've at least grabbed a clean one," you grumbled, but there wasn't any real annoyance in your voice.

When he was done, he tossed the rag aside. "Yer alright?"

You smirked, despite the ache in your legs. "What, worried I might've cracked under all that control?"

For a moment, he looked like he wanted to argue. Instead, he just grunted before crouching in front of you. His hands found your arms as he helped you up, his strength the only thing keeping you from falling right back to the floor.

"Easy," he mumbled, sliding one arm around your waist to steady you. "Ain't wantin' to pick yer ass up again if ya fall."

"Not my fault," you answered, your legs wobbling as you tried to find your balance. "You're the one who—"

"Don't even start," he cut you off quickly, but definitely with amusement. "Ya got no one to blame but yer damn self."

His arm stayed around you as you took a few shaky steps with him by your side as if you had to learn how to walk again, your knees still threatening to buckle. You hated how he looked at you right now, showing you a smirk as he watched you struggle.

"Shut up," you grumbled, leaning against him more than you wanted to admit.

"Ain't said nothin'," he smirked, but the way his hand tightened on your waist betrayed his satisfaction.

Once you were steady enough to stand on your own, he let go, his hands falling to his sides. As you reached for your clothes, putting them on with clumsy, trembling fingers, Daryl leaned against the motorcycle again, watching you with that same gaze he'd had earlier, his blue eyes tracking every movement of your body.

"So? Ya still reckless?" He suddenly asked, as if to taunt you.

You glared at him as you put on your bra and shirt. "Excuse me?"

"Crashin' my bike," he continued, crossing his arms over his chest. "Then gettin' all riled up when ya can't handle shit."

Feeling your cheeks turn red, the heat was spreading all over your face as you turned to zip up your pants. "Maybe if you weren't such a goddamn caveman, my attention would've—"

"Caveman, huh?" Daryl stepped closer, the space closing between you until you could feel the presence of him behind your back. One hand came up, his fingers brushing lightly over the bruise on your thigh from earlier, the touch rather gentle.

"Caveman kept ya focused now, didn't he?" He continued, his lips all close near your ear. "Got yer attention real good."

You hated how easily your body responded to him even now, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of an answer.

"Next time," he said, his voice dropping slightly, "ya might think twice 'bout tryin' to show off."

His fingers then pressed into the bruise just enough to make you wince, reminding you of the lesson he'd drilled into you—literally.

"Control," he said, stepping back again. "Might save yer damn ass next time."

You turned to face the motorcycle with a scowl as you adjusted your clothes, looking around for your jacket. "Are you done lecturing me, or should I grab a notepad?"

"Nah. Jus' get yer shit together," he answered. "We're headin' out again tomorrow. Yer ridin' bitch till ya prove ya can handle it."

Laughing at that, your words were coming out faster than your still-wobbly legs could even move. "Riding bitch, huh?" You repeated as you turned to face him. "Next time you're teaching me to drive, I'll be riding something, alright—but it sure as shit won't be the bike."

It was a bold answer, considering your legs still felt like they'd been switched for spaghetti, but you weren't about to let him see you back down.

Daryl's lips twitched, that small smirk coming back as he closed the distance between you in a few quick movements. One hand shot out, gripping your chin and tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

"Keep talkin'," he grumbled, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "See where it gets ya."

You grinned, biting his thumb just enough to make him hiss. "I think it gets me exactly where I want to be," you responded, voice all daring, even as your pulse kicked up a notch all over. "Don't you think?"

Daryl's silence was answer enough, and for a moment, you thought he might snap again, dragging you into another round right there on the spot. But for now, and for once, you decided to savor and enjoy your little victory. Of course, it didn't last long.

You weren't sure who moved first, but before you knew it, you were pulling him down by his collar, your lips crashing onto his like they had something to prove.

The kiss was all grunts and stubbornness, his teeth biting at your lip as you ran your fingers through his messy hair. You didn't even notice when his hands found your waist, pulling you closer until there wasn't an inch of space between your bodies.

"Y'ain't got any sense o' self-control," he mumbled against your mouth, but he didn't stop kissing you, one hand sliding up to grab the back of your neck.

You broke the kiss just long enough to catch your breath, smirking up at him. "And you've got too much of it," you shot back.

You knew this would've gone on longer—should've gone on longer—but the sound of the side door from the garage to the house opening stopped you both in place like a couple of kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

"Daryl?" Aaron's voice was to be heard, and you felt the blood freeze in your veins. "Are you both back already?"

Daryl let out a growl, his forehead slowly dropping to yours like he was trying to collect himself before turning to look toward the unwanted interruption.

Aaron stood in the doorway, his eyes looking between the two of you, taking in the sheer awkwardness of it all. His eyebrows shot up, and he blinked like he was trying to reset his brain back to factory settings.

"Oh…" Aaron said after a moment, his voice sounding a little bit higher than usual. "I just—uh—saw the garage door was closed from the outside when I came back. Thought you were done with, uh, teaching? I just wanted to get—"

Daryl cleared his throat, stepping back from you but not bothering to hide his irritation. "'M still teachin'."

Aaron's mouth opened like he was about to ask something else, but you jumped in before he could make things even worse. "Yeah, exactly," you said, smiling at him before you looked back at Daryl. "He's teachin' me how to… focus."

The words had barely left your mouth before Daryl shot you a look. Still, he couldn't resist adding, "And 'bout… control."

Aaron stood there, his mouth opening and closing like a fish in urgent need of water. Finally, he managed to let out a quiet, "Still teaching, huh?" His voice was full of disbelief. "About control and focus?"

You crossed your arms, smirking. "Of course! And let me tell you, Daryl's got a real hands-on approach." Daryl gave you a warning look, but you ignored him. "Next time, maybe we'll move on to, I dunno, accelerating!"

"Yeah," Daryl answered flatly, his tone as casual as if Aaron had walked in on him fixing the motorcycle, not having had you taken against it. "Focusin' on the road ahead. Controllin' the bike while… ridin' it."

Aaron arched only one eyebrow this time. "Right," he said, dragging the word out like it was hurting him. "Well, maybe teach her outside of Alexandria next time instead of Eric's and my garage?"

You snorted. "Oh, we can, for sure. But Daryl's really good at teaching me how to focus on what's in front of me," you said sweetly. "It's the control part I keep getting stuck on."

Aaron let out a short, strangled laugh, already backing toward the door. "Yeah, okay! Don't let me interrupt your lesson." His face went red, and he backed up so fast he nearly tripped. "I mean, it sounds, uh... productive. I'll just—yeah." He gestured around awkwardly as he was about to hurry back inside the house.

When he left, you could've sworn he whispered something that sounded suspiciously like, "What the hell is wrong with all these people?" before he closed the door behind him.

The second the door clicked shut, you leaned against the workbench, your eyes moving to the motorcycle that had started this whole situation, after all. It stood there innocently enough, like it hadn't been witness to your absolute lack of keeping control. Stepping forward, you traced your fingers along one of the scratches on its gas tank.

"Looks like Frankenstein's bike's seen some rough handling, thanks to me," you said before your eyes moved back onto Daryl, who was watching you like an animal sizing up its next meal. "Guess it'll get used to bein' ridden hard."

Eyes looking up, you were daring him to take the bait. "Think you'll leave some scratches on me next time?"

His muscles were flexing like he was seconds from pulling you back to him. "Keep talkin', woman, and I jus' might."

You grinned, stepping away from the motorcycle and grabbing your jacket, which was on the floor near the workbench. "Guess I'll just have to wait and see, huh?" You put the jacket on, taking your time on purpose to let him stew in his frustration.

Just as you reached the garage door and opened it, you turned back toward Daryl, who'd started to talk, watching you lean your shoulder against the frame. "Yer walkin' funny, woman."

You stopped, moving your head up with a glare. "If I walk funny, I'm tellin' everyone it's 'cause of the bike." You made sure to add a smirk. "I'm going to say it was a wild ride—not a crash."

As you pushed yourself off the frame and stepped outside onto the streets of Alexandria, your grin was as wide as ever. "Thank you for the thorough lesson, Dixon."

But before the garage could even close behind you, something soft and slightly damp was flying past your head, landing on the ground in front of you.

"Jesus, was that—?" You started to laugh, realizing exactly what he'd thrown after you. "Oh, come on! Did you seriously throw that at me? Gross!"

Daryl leaned against the motorcycle, his smirk not obvious, but it was there. "Missed, didn't I?" He didn't flinch, didn't apologize. "Didn't miss on purpose."

"That's disgusting," you called back and laughed, unable to help yourself. "And I'm not picking that up!"

"Didn't ask ya to," he answered, pushing himself off the machine and taking a few steps closer to the street. "But yer might come back in here 'n pick up somethin' else."

"Not a chance," you snorted, shaking your head while you stumbled a little bit. "Better luck next time. Or… tomorrow."

"Fuckin' reckless…" Daryl growled, but with amusement in his voice as he watched you disappear ever so slowly. But he didn't move, not yet. "Jus' get yer damn ass back here!"

You were already down the street and smirking to yourself as you tried to walk and just waved him off, making it clear that it was all for show as you held up both middle fingers, trying to make it seem like you were stumbling away with your body intact.

And, of course, you were—kind of.

Either way, Daryl knew that next time, the only thing you'd be riding was him, and you'd make sure he would be the one struggling to keep focus and control.

81 notes · View notes

missdynamighttt · 1 day ago

Note

Hii, I hope you had a very happy holiday and that you are well, I love the way you write! I would like to ask you for something half anguish half soft and whatever you want to add some other thing even if it is spicy.. Something where both the reader and Katsuki are both pro-heroes, The reader tries to take good care of himself during missions and avoids getting hurt so that Katsuki doesn't worry (go crazy about it) But Katsuki doesn't do the same and almost always ends up hurt and worrying the reader and this makes her upset by his lack of reciprocity.. They end up fighting for a moment but end up reconciling. I hope it's not too much to ask, bye, kisses🙏

hi hun!! hope you had a very happy holiday too<333 that means SO much to me, thank you lots!! its not too much at all, i hope this met your expectations and i hope you enjoy it. byeee, kisses <333 (disclaimers: handjob in a hospital, nipple play, mentions of breeding kink, calls you mommy, switch katsuki (gets really subby in the end))

katsuki was on his bed in the infirmary, covered in bandages and scratches. he had gotten himself injured again during a battle with a villain.

you walked into the room, face filled with anger and concern. you quickly made your way towards his bed and looked at him, obviously frustrated.

"my fucking god, katsuki.."

katsuki looked at you with a mixture of annoyance and guilt. he knew he had upset you by getting injured again this badly but that didn't matter to him.

"what? i'm fine."

you tried to blink back your tears as they threatened to escape, lips curled into a stubborn frown. "you look anything but fine."

katsuki rolled his eyes, still trying to act nonchalant about his injuries. "i've had worse. you know that. i'll heal up in no time."

he huffed slightly as he attempted to shift his position on the bed, causing a small wave of pain to shoot through him, but too stubborn to show you his signs of pain.

"we have the same damn job," you snapped, holding his arm and helping him up. your eyes narrowed, words filled with irritation and worry. but you don't see me acting like a reckless idiot, do you? i may get a few scrapes and bruises, but i don't look like I've just stumbled out of a warzone."

"i'm not acting reckless. 'm just doing my damn job," katsuki grumbled as he grudgingly allowed you to help him. "and besides, you're always avoiding getting hurt. you never take any risks, so it's no fuckin' surprise you don't get hurt."

you widened your eyes at him in disbelief, shaking your head in frustration. "no risk?"

"yeah, no risk. you always play it safe, you never take any chances, you always avoid fighting any shitty villains that might be too damn dangerous..." katsuki trails off, noticing the look on your face and realizing that he might've struck a nerve.

"playing it safe? is that what you assume i do to prioritize my fucking life?" you let out a scoff of disbelief, lips twisting up in a sarcastic smile. "is that what you think I do when I try to protect myself, so that you don't have to add my name to your growing list of worries?"

katsuki's expression softened slightly. he knew deep down that she was right, but he wasn't ready to admit it.

"it's not about that. it's about getting the job done. sometimes that means taking risks."

"excuse you. i get the job done just fine. at least i don't look like i've been trampled on by a hundred fucking bulls."

"yeah, well, at least i'm not afraid to get my hands dirty."

katsuki knew that was a low blow even as he said it, but his pride was too wounded to backtrack now.

your emotions finally breaking through the facade of toughness as you bit your bottom lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill.

"damn it, katsuki," your voice cracked slightly. "all i'm asking is to keep yourself safe. do you even realize how much it hurts me, seeing you injured over and over again, knowing i can't do anything about it? its like.. you don't care. then you go ahead and insult how i do my job and..."

kasuki's expression softened further as he saw the tears in your eyes. he knew he messed up.

"sweets, i... i didn't mean what i said. you're great, okay? the damn best. i just.. wanna do my damn job. i don't want to hold back and let someone get away with shit because i was being too careful."

you let out a huff of frustration, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand.

"doing your job properly doesn't mean throwing your life away, katsuki. what if something happens again, and.."

your pause as tears welled up your eyes, finally rolling down your cheeks like a waterfall. you tried to wipe them away, movements aggressive as your sniffles growing louder despite the attempts to keep them silent.

katsuki watched as you wiped away your tears, guilt gnawing at him. it was a sight that never failed to clench his heart. he reached out and gently gripped your arm, pulling you closer by the edge of the bed. "hey, c'mon. don't... cry, dammit."

"i'll be fine, i always do," he continued, his voice softer than usual. he crooks his finger to tilt your head up at his gaze. "even if i look like i got trampled on by a hundred fuckin' bulls."

he repeated your words back to you with a small grin. you huffed when you realized he was trying to lighten the mood, giving his arm a gentle nudge as you pouted at him.

"i... i can't lose you. not again, katsuki," you sniffled, lower lip trembling slightly as you kept your emotions in check. "okay?"

katsuki's smirk faded as he heard the raw vulnerability in your voice, the memories flooding his brain back when he almost lost his...

"sweets... i'm not going anywhere, okay?" he repeated, his voice serious now. "i promise." he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace.

you huff, calming down in his arms a little as you appreciate the warmth of his embrace and the sound of his steady breathing.

meanwhile, katsuki held you close, feeling your body relax against his. with a sigh, he buries his face in your hair, taking solace in the feeling of your in his arms. he hated seeing you upset, and he hated himself for being the cause of it.

"i'm sorry."

"hmph. you better be."

you sigh as katsuki chuckled slightly, the feeling of your fingers in his hair sending a shiver down his spine.

"i am. i won't be so reckless next time. i'll be more careful, i promise."

"if you don't?"

"if i don't? what, you'll come kick my ass yourself?"

"katsuki."

katsuki takes a deep breath before letting out a long sigh, looking up and his gaze fixed on you.

"if i don't..." he begins, tucking a strand of hair behind your hair. "i just won't. i don't want to put you through that again. i'll keep my word. for you, sweets. okay?"

you nod, your pout giving way to a more relaxed expression as you sank deeper into his embrace. you were a little more relaxed now that he gave you the reassurance you needed. he just needed to recover, and then—

you suddenly felt a slight shiver run through your body as you register the feeling of katsuki's lips on your neck.

katsuki grins when he noticed your slight surprise, continuing to place soft kisses along your neck, pausing occasionally to nibble on your earlobe.

"you worry too much, you know that?" he whispered in between kisses.

"only because i care about you..." you breathe, your voice a little breathless as you leaned into his touch. you really, really couldn't hide the effect his touch had on you.

katsuki's smirk returned as he heard you gasp, the sound sending a wave of heat through his body. he moved his mouth to your jawline, trailing kisses along your skin.

"i know you care about me," he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. "and as much as i love seein' you get all feisty when you're worried about me... i promise i'll be more careful from now on."

"okay...good," you hum softly as he continued peppering kisses down your body. "glad we.. cleared that up."

katsuki chuckles, his lips still against your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "yeah, we did."

you had to bite your bottom lip when he moved his lips, nipping at your collarbone. "and now that we have that settled..."

"there's somethin' else i'd like to do."

your eyes widened in surprise as you realized what he was hinting at, heat spreading across your cheeks. "w-wait—"

katsuki grinned again when he noticed how bashful you were getting. he loved it when he could get you all flustered like this.

"what?" his lips hovering near your ear. "you don't want to?"

you shook your head, your desire warred with concern. there was a part of you that wanted to give in to the moment, but practical senses prevailed. he was still recovering from his injuries, and you weren't about to risk his health for an orgasm.

"i..." you began, voice shaky with a mixture of desire and reluctance. "yes, i want to... but not here. and not while you're still recovering, dammit."

katsuki pouted slightly, clearly disappointed. but as much as he hated to admit it, he knew you were right.

"tch, fine. but don't blame me if i start goin' crazy from recovery boredom."

he paused, a sly smirk appearing on his face. "although... i could think of a few ways you could keep me entertained while i recover."

you tilt your head with a raised eyebrow. "like?"

"well... you could start by just cuddlin' with me while i rest," he teased, his voice low and suggestive, tugging you closer to the bed so that you could cuddle him. "or maybe you could give me a few kisses here and there... you know, to help me heal faster."

"oh?" you smile, scooting over the bed and snuggling up to him. "did the doctor approve of that?"

"doctors are overrated," he says in mock-offense as he wraps an arm around you. "they all say the same things. rest and fluids, blah, blah, blah. where's the fun in that?"

"besides..." he leaned in closer with a grin, his voice dropping to a whisper. "who needs a doctor's approval when i have a beautiful woman like you to take care of me?"

you scoff, nudging his arm softly and roll your eyes, running your fingers through his hair. "as much as i'd love to take care of you, i'm scared we might get caught."

"what, afraid of getting caught in the act?" he asked with a mischievous grin. "come on, it'll be fun."

he could tell you were still reluctant. so, he pulled you even closer, his hands roaming up your hips and resting on your waist, his lips brushing your ear when he spoke. "we'll be discreet, i promise. just a few kisses... no one will ever know."

"i'd rather if you just focus on recovering."

"a few kisses ain't gonna set me back. i'm fine, sweets. i heal fast, remember?"

"then, if you heal fast, i doubt you need me to kiss you, right?"

"you think i can't handle a few kisses, is that it?"

you grin at his pout and shrug. "i think you can't. because then you're going to take it too far."

katsuki rolled his eyes, mock-offended. "i have no idea what you're talkin' about. i'm a saint."

he leaned back against the pillows, narrowing his eyes at your reluctant gaze and giggles. "besides, i'm in no condition to do anything strenuous right now. a few innocent kisses won't hurt."

you huff, exhaling in a soft sigh as your pout deepens. your eyes flicker to his, searching for any kind of reassurance. you didn't want to set back his recovery by going too far but who were you to deny him the kisses he needs? "you promise?"

"a few innocent kisses, that's it. no funny business, no getting carried away," he paused, reaching out to take your hand, his thumb tracing circles on the back of her hand. "just a few little kisses to keep me entertained while i recover."

after a moment, you gave in with a sigh, nodding in reluctant agreement.

"fine..." you muttered, your tone a little sulky.

but your gaze flickered to him, your narrowed eyes meeting his with a hint of heat. slowly, you lean in closer, your breath catching in your throat as you prepare to initiate the kiss.

katsuki grins as he tilted his head slightly to meet you halfway, his eyes closing in anticipation.

"that's more like it," he murmured, his voice low and sultry.

katsuki reached up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb tracing soft circles along your skin as he closed the distance between your lips.

the moment your lips met his, he let out a soft sigh, wrapping his arms around you as he deepened the kiss. it was slow and gentle, a stark contrast to the usual.. passionate embraces.

but the kiss deepens and katsuki starts to get lost in the moment, you can feel him getting more aggressive and intense. sensing that he's starting to lose control, you give his bicep a gentle but firm squeeze, signaling him to slow down. it acts like an anchor, reminding him to keep his desire in check.

katsuki feels your squeeze on his bicep and realizes that he's getting carried away. he breaks the kiss, panting for air as he tries to regain control of himself.

he looks at you with dilated eyes, his chest rising and falling heavily. "f-fuck.. 'm sorry.. i got carried away..."

you chuckle breathlessly, your own heart racing. you try to reassure him with a soft, affectionate smile on your lips. "it's okay... i liked it."

"damn it. me too. maybe a little too much," he sighs, glancing down at himself and groans at the tent in his pants. "fuck, you're not making this easy. you know how hard it is for an injured pro-hero like me to resist his gorgeous girl? and i'm supposed to be recovering, remember?"

"oh? who insisted on the kisses, smartass?"

"hey, you're the one who agreed to it."

"weirdo," you tease, poking his side gently. "want me to..?"

katsuki's breathing hitches at you looking down at his lap. he knew he should resist. he needed to recover. but the sight of you, looking at his raging boner, and imagining what you'd look like taking care of it, is almost too much for him to handle.

"don't tease me like that, woman. you know what the answer is."

you glance down to admire the obvious tent in his pants, the evidence of his desires clear as day. you can't help but bite your bottom lip, feeling a sudden rush of heat as something aches in between your legs.

"okay," you whisper, reaching down for the waistband of his pants. "just keep quiet f'me, okay?"

katsuki nods, his eyes locked on you as you reach for underneath his boxers. he feels his breath catch in his throat, his body tensing in anticipation.

"yeah.." he breathes, his voice strained. "i'll be quiet..."

katsuki watches as you touch him, his eyes darkened with desire as he feels your hand wrap around his cock, his body already responding to your touch.

"fuck... fuck, you're so hot.." he manages to say, his voice hoarse and gravelly.

you laugh softly, looking up at him, thumbing the tip of his cock thats leaking with pre. "yeah? you think i'm hot, katsuki?"

"mhm.. so hot.." he nods, his breath coming in ragged pants. he closes his eyes, his head falling back against the pillows as he sinks further into the bed. "f-fuck.. feels so good.. keep goin', sweets, fuck.."

katsuki's hips instinctively buck up into your touch, trying to get even more friction. he grips the sheets, his knuckles turning white as he struggles to keep himself quiet.

you chuckle breathlessly, biting down your bottom lip as you slowly fuck your fist on his cock, purposefully slowing down. "you're not keeping quiet, katsuki. what if someone hears us, hm?"

"fuck, you can't do that to me.. don't tease me like that.." he lets out a strangled moan, unable to hide how needy he is for you. he bites down on his lip, trying to muffle his noise. "i'm tryna be fuckin' quiet, i swear.. but it's gettin' really fuckin' hard.. just keep going.."

you smile, a small, sassy grin that dances across your lips. yu shake your head lightly, titling it to one side as you wrap your fist tighter around his cock. "do you need my help to shut you up, hm?"

katsuki nods, his face flushed and his eyes pleading. "yeah. please.. please, i can't keep quiet on my own. i need you.. i need you to shut me up with your tits..."

you stop stroking him a little to shift positions, maneuvering yourself so that he is lying on your lap and his face on your chest. his head rests on your thighs, and you can feel the warmth of his body against yours as you reach out again to stroke him.

"so needy, sweetheart," you tease in a soft murmur, your fingers tantalizing on his cock as you look down at him.

"hmph," he huffs as his hand slips under your shirt, tugging it up quickly before his fingers warm against your skin as they brush against your stomach. it's not like he could tell you that you were wrong.

katsuki tugs gently on your bra, his intentions clear as his eyes lock onto yours. he doesn't break eye contact with you as he pulls your bra down, your tits spilling from the fabric, hard nipples already meeting the cold air and his hot breath.

it doesn't take long before katsuki's mouth immediately latches onto your nipple, moaning softly against the skin as his tongue swirls around your areola.

"you taste so good," he groaned, his other hand touches your neglected breast, rough and insistent as they knead and massage the doughy mound, pinching your nipple. "fuck, sweets.. wanna make you a mommy. get these gorgeous tits swollen with milk..."

"yeah?" a small, sheepish smile plays on your lips as you try to find your words. but it's hard to think clearly, hard to even form a sentence when he's getting handsy with your tits, feeling your cunny clenching with need. "you wanna make me a mommy, sweetheart?"

"yeah," he breathes, his cock twitching with precum as you stroke him. "i wanna put a baby in you. wanna fill you up and get you all nice and pregnant for me. you want that, right?"

your cheeks heat up as he gets more aggressive with your tits, his hands continuing to caress you. "yeah, maybe. so?"

"yeah? you'd like it if i knocked you up, mommy?"

you let out a soft moan, your body arching involuntarily as you try to process the pet-name. whenever he got subby, which was rarely, it always caught you off-guard. you wanted to deny how much it affected you as he caresses you, nibbling on your nipples like a man possessed.

"katsuki... i thought i told you to keep quiet.."

you clicked your tongue at him, your hand moving up and down his cock faster, purposely toying with him. he whines at the change of pace, his head dropping back against your plush thighs before he presses his face against your chest to muffle his moans.

"fuck... i'm sorry, mommy, i'm sorry," katsuki whimpers against your nipples, his tone almost whining and pleading as he looks up at you. "i'll keep quiet, i promise..."

"it's a shame, really," you murmur. "with how loud you are, now i'm thinking if i should even let you cum."

"no, no. need to cum, i'll be so quiet, i promise," katsuki gasps out, sucking your tits sore in between his pleas as he humps your fist.

"don't stop.. i'll be a good boy, just let me cum, mommy-"

"yeah? you think you deserve to after what you did?"

"im sorry alreadyyy," he moans, his voice cracking as he begs. it's hard to believe he's a tough, powerful pro-hero known for how aggressive he is. all brought down to a whimpering, whiny looking mess for you. "fuck, fuck, i'll do whatever you want... just please let me cum. please, mommy.."

katsuki looked like a little boy who wanted his favorite toy as he fondles your tits. he's desperate, he's needy, he's your whining, jacked boyfriend who just wants to cum.

and who were you to deny him what he wants?

"it's okay, baby," your voice is a sultry purr as you look down at him. "since you've been begging real good f'me, you can cum.."

katsuki's eyes flutter shut at your approval, a soft, guttural moan leaving his lips. he's close, so close that it's almost painful, and he's clinging to you like a lifeline. "shit.. sh-shit, thank you, m-mommy... fuck, 'm gonna fuckin' cum, shit-"

he bucks his hips into your hips one last time before trembling beneath your touch, shaking as his cum shoots down your fists, his cock twitching from the release.

you grin as you pump your fist on his cock, helping him ride out his high. your fingers linger on him for awhile before you pull away, licking your fingers off of his slick.

but someone still needed you. katsuki sat up and pulled you closer and he grabs your face in his hands, his lips crashing into yours in a fierce, desperate kiss. he kisses you like he needs you more than air, like he'll die without your touch. he doesn't even care if he's being needy. he just wants you, and only you.

he breaks the kiss for a moment, panting for air as he presses his forehead against yours. "fuck," he mutters against your lips, his voice rough and ragged. "that was... shit, i don't know what to say." he chuckles breathlessly.

"well..." you start with a cheeky grin, your fingers running through his hair. "you could start by saying thank you."

he huffs out a laugh, a tired smile spreading across his face. he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of your shampoo that he just loves. "thank you, baby. you're perfect, you know that? so goddamn perfect."

you bask in the moment, smiling warmly as you revel in the comfort of the cuddle. his warm, firm body against yours feels like home, and you feel content and complete in his arms.

in that moment, you feel completely content and at peace, as if nothing else in the world matters besides the two of you. you press yourself against him, a silent reassurance that he's here, he's real, and he's all yours.

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sayyestoheav3nn · 5 hours ago

Text

You, Again: Part 1/2

Roman x black!oc

Warnings: fluff, angst, short mention of abortion, emotional/verbal abuse

Word Count: 3k

a/n: thanks for your patience, it really means a lot 🥹 I hope this isn't a disappointment. still working on part five of nights like this, most likely won't be posted till monday

Sky spent hours in her room crying into her pillow. She was sick and tired of this constant fucked up routine.

Her mother’s disdain for her progressively grew worse day by day. For as long as she could remember, that woman did everything in her power to make sure she understood that her biggest mistake in life, would always be the day she chose not to abort her.

It was starting to become a nightly occurrence of her drunkenly barging into her room just to belittle and scream at her.

Her mother’s hatred for her grew immensely as the years went on, to the point where she would find absolutely any reason to take her frustrations out on her.

This included breaking any and everything she could get ahold of in Sky’s room.

Sky knew any attempt to defend herself would only make the situation ten times worse, so she just stayed quiet and accepted it.

Sky could tell she wanted a reaction out of her, which is exactly why she refused to give it.

Maybe life would have been a tad bit easier, if her sister would’ve had her back during these repetitive toxic situations she was forced into.

But no, her one and only sibling turned out to be an even more evil and vindictive bitch.

Eva was four years older than her, and it was absolutely no secret that her older sister despised her.

Sky spent many years hoping she would eventually be able to build a relationship with her big sister.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t have been more wrong.

Sky remembers that night like it was yesterday. The night where Eva went to the bathroom and her creepy boyfriend tried to make multiple passes at her.

The fact that he knew she was underaged and still chose to hit on her, disgusted Sky to another level. She quickly rejected his creepy insinuations, trying her best to ignore him.

As soon as Eva stepped out of the bathroom, Sky wasted no time in telling her exactly what happened, not giving two fucks about the fact he was still standing there.

Her boyfriend immediately interjected, saying that Sky was the one who was hitting on him, he painted a story about how she’d been making him uncomfortable for the longest of time whenever Eva wasn’t around.

She remembered the exact lies he spewed, “Baby you know how jealous she’s always been of you, don’t tell me you believe this crazy bitch! Why would I ever do that to you? Let alone in your own house!”

To her surprise Eva looked at Sky like she was fucking insane, Sky could see her sisters anger rising.

“Eva, please don’t tell me you believe him over me…” Sky’s voice cracked as tears started to form in her eyes.

Eva pushed Sky against the wall with all the force she had, causing the back of Sky’s head to slightly start bleeding.

“If you ever even think to go near him again, I’ll fucking kill you,” Eva sneered.

In that exact moment Sky whole heartedly accepted the fact that she was truly alone, with absolutely no one by her side.

And just when she had fully given up hope on continuing to live this shitty life, with her even shittier family, she met Joe.

Joe was a boy who made her whole entire world shift.

He was her new neighbor, who in a short time of getting to know, became her favorite person.

As years passed they grew even closer, she was his best friend, and he was hers.

He was truly a light in her dark world, and there wasn’t a damn thing she’d do to change that.

……….

After another night of the same bullshit fight caused by her drunken mom, Sky carefully stumbled out of her bedroom window making her way across the wet grass that was now starting to soak her fuzzy slippers. Her phone was dead, so she had no choice but to rely on the natural moonlight to illuminate the short path leading her next door.

She lightly tapped on Joe’s window, hoping not to startle him.

Shortly after, he carefully slid his window open. His eyes were low and sunken, a sleepy smile formed on his face.

“Come in.” Joe helped Sky climb in, which basically consisted of him doing all the work in picking her up.

“Shit, sorry for waking you up Joe,” she whispered.

“Sky, how many times have I told you? Never apologize for that shit,” his voice was low.

Joe knew that she had issues with her family, but Sky made sure to never tell him how bad it really was. She knew him well, his hot headed ass would confront them with no hesitation, but that would only end up making things worse for her.

If Sky’s mom found out about him, she’d forbid her from ever seeing him again.

And that’s something that Sky simply would not allow, so choosing to keep him in the dark, in her eyes was the right choice.

Joe pulled his covers back leaving Sky’s preferred side easier for her to get in.

His bedroom became a safe space for her, it was starting to become a habit for Sky to spend her nights sleeping there. For some odd reason the smell of his sheets gave her a sense of comfort, his cologne scent became soothing to her.

They both laid down on their backs, with their gazes focused on the ceiling.

Joe was always respectful, making sure he left a small space in between them.

“You wanna talk about it?” He whispered.

“Thanks, but not really,” she sighed.

Joe could hear the sadness in her tone, he knew she was holding something in, but he didn’t want to push her. He believed she’d open up when she felt comfortable enough, so he respected that.

“That’s okay….but know you can tell me anything, Sky.”

She turned her body to face him, “I’m going to tell you something, but promise me you won’t get upset,” she muttered.

Just as Joe was deep in his thoughts admiring Sky’s beauty, beauty in which he was convinced everyone saw except her, her light angelic voice instantly snapped him out of it. “Talk to me, we’ll go from there.”

“This is going to be my last night sleeping here…”

Joe quickly sat up on the bed, with his eyebrows furrowed. Sky could feel his gaze locked in on her. “Why?”

“Joe I know we’re just friends and that we’ve always had boundaries, but you have a girlfriend. It…it just seems disrespectful to keep sleeping here knowing that,” she muttered.

Joe paused in silence for what felt like forever. Sky was starting to get anxious, because the last thing she needed was to cause problems or a rift between them. As regret started to seep in, she decided to try and smooth the situation over.

“It’s just—”

“We’re not together anymore,” his voice was low.

Confusion, that’s exactly what Sky was feeling. This was the last thing she was expecting him to say.

“W—Why didn’t you say anything? What happened?”

“She didn’t like me being friends with you, so she gave me an ultimatum… to choose between you or her.”

At that Sky stood up, her anxiety causing her to pace the room while so much guilt began to weigh her mind. She felt so fucking bad, knowing that her friendship ended his relationship which was the exact thing she was trying to avoid.

She swallowed down her emotions as best as she could, which worked to no prevail because she instantly felt warm tears begin to slide down her face. “Joe I-I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t….you shouldn’t have chosen me.”

Joe instinctively walked towards her now seeing that she was crying, he gently grabbed her chin forcing her gaze on his.

“Sky, there’s no reason to be sorry. It was the easiest choice I’ve ever fucking made.’’

“I—It’s my fault Joe…. I shouldn’t have put you in this situation,” she sniffled.

“Look at me,” his voice was assertive but still gentle, Sky’s glossy eyes met his.

“The ultimatum wasn’t the only reason I ended things with her, Sky.”

“Joe, w—what do you mean? I’m confused…..”

He moved some of her hair behind her ears, the way his eyes were glued to her lips gave her butterflies. “I….don’t want to just be friends anymore.”

Sky could feel her heart beating out of her fucking chest. Sure she believed they were close, but in no world did she ever think he thought of her that way. Joe carefully studied her facial expressions, trying to figure out what she was thinking.

“I—”

Before she could speak Joe interrupted. “I’ve always liked you Sky, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, inside and out. I enjoy every moment I spend with you. With that being said… I understand if you don’t feel the same way, my intention isn’t to make you uncomfortable. But, I just needed you to—

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“I want you to kiss me, Joe.”

Just as he was beginning to lean in, she slightly hesitated while slowly pulling back.

“I’ve.. I’ve never…” Sky was too embarrassed to finish her sentence.

“You’ve never kissed anyone before?”

She shook her head no, her gaze now shifted to the floor.

Joe lightly brushed his thumb across her bottom lip. “Sky, it’s just me. I got you, I promise.”

Once she silently gave him the approval, Joe gently pressed his lips against hers, starting off slow letting her get used to the feeling. Her lips were so fucking full and soft, it was going to be a challenge for him to contain himself.

Once Joe could feel her growing comfortable, he began to deepen their kiss. Sky could feel her arousal intensify as the kiss went from soft and slow to something more needy and sensual.

Without a second thought, he picked her up by her ass, hoisting her on his hips.

Sky wrapped her legs around him, while doing the same with her arms around his neck. Joe carried her back towards his bed, laying her down gently, while pulling her closer towards him.

To his surprise Sky climbed on top, straddling and kissing him. Joe sat up with his back resting on the headboard, a light moan escaped him when she slid her fingers behind his head, lightly scratching at his scalp.

He slightly pulled away, biting down on his bottom lip, his eyes entranced by that beautiful face of hers. “You have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you.”

“Me too,” she grinned.

Time passed, and Joe had no idea how long they spent kissing. It’s almost as if time didn’t exist when she was around him.

They eventually had to stop, Joe refused to get ahead of himself, making sure to prioritize taking things slow with her.

Just as they were about to sleep, Joe got up and walked to his drawer pulling out something plastic, it was too dark for her to tell.

“Shit, I almost forgot.”

“What is it?”

Joe handed her the light plastic item. “I know you forget to bring it sometimes, so I bought you one to leave here.”

Once Sky shined her phone light on it, a smile formed on her face.

A bonnet.

Joe went out of his way to buy her a bonnet.

Something so simple, yet so fucking thoughtful made her eyes water “Thank you Joe.”

She immediately pulled it out the package, wasting no time in putting it on.

Sky kissed his cheek and laid down, Joe pulled her by her waist with his big arms wrapped around her, there was no longer a gap in between. The warmth of his chest on her back was the most comforting thing she’d ever experienced, resulting in her instantly falling asleep.

Since the day he met her, she’d been the only person he thought about. Having her this close to him, internally evoked new emotions for him.

Watching her sleep so peacefully while being wrapped in his arms, brought a smile to his face. In that very moment he made a vow to himself, to always put her happiness first.

No matter what.

…………….

Present

The New York city lights illuminated the busy streets. Sky wasn’t used to being in such a live and ambient city.

After a shit ton of convincing from her best friend Lori, Sky forced herself to step out of her comfort zone and pursue a new potential career opportunity. It’s something that she had been wanting to do for the longest time, but unfortunately her deep rooted insecurities had her convinced she wasn’t good enough.

She was scared to waste so much time and effort, just to end up receiving rejection.

Except she was wrong, very wrong. Because after an exhausting few months of traveling around the world and going to so many different try outs, life finally threw her a bone.

Sky had received a message from her agent, informing her that a well known modeling agency based in New York, was interested in flying her in for a week to attend their casting call.

This was an opportunity she was glad she didn’t miss. Lori, being the amazing friend that she is, decided to join Sky to offer her unwavering support.

After being in this colorful, fast paced city for a few days, Sky went in for one last meeting with the agency where they informed her she would officially be signed.

Sky still had the weekend left in this enormous city, so she figured she’d make the most of it. Lori, suggested they try out this new fancy bar to celebrate Sky’s new job.

As they walked in the atmosphere was relaxing, the room was filled with dim lighting and the low sounds of jazz music. Sky noticed diverse groups of people scattered across the room, the air was filled with chatter and laughter, which brought a small smile to her face.

They decided to sit at the stools of the bar, they figured the closer they were, the faster they’d receive their drinks.

To say they were having a good time would be an understatement, Sky was starting to truly enjoy the feeling of being immersed in this vibrant city.

While Lori went to the bathroom, Sky decided to order their third drinks, and as she was waiting she ended up getting distracted with a dumbass reality show, that for some reason was starting to pique her interest.

Just as the boring commercials started to play, she was starting to zone out when out of the corner of her eye she saw a WWE ad.

Sky could instantly feel her breath hitch in her throat. It’s not the first time she’s seen him randomly displayed on tv.

That’s not the exact reason her heart was racing, while her body felt frozen in place. It’s the fact that the advertisement said he was in this exact area for a press event he had during the weekend.

Every piece of joy she was feeling prior to this revelation was stripped away.

Lori came back, and with one glance at Sky, she immediately knew something was wrong, “Sky, are you okay?”

Sky cleared her throat, trying her absolute best to play it off. “I’m fine, I promise. I think these drinks are hitting me all at once,” she nervously chuckled.

Lori stared at Sky, seeming completely unconvinced, but she ultimately decided to let it go.

“I’ll drop it for now, only because it’s a big day for you.”

“Thank you,” Sky mouthed.

Sky waited twenty minutes for Lori to finish her drink, her anxiety made it feel like she was waiting a lifetime. Once Lori finished up, Sky asked to leave, using the excuse that she was exhausted.

Lori paid their tab after refusing to let Sky pay a dime. They started to make their way out of the packed bar, trying their best to maneuver away from large crowds.

Just as they were close to the entrance door, Lori had to turn around when she noticed she left her sunglasses. Sky was looking back to see if her friend had located them, while still walking forward.

She decided it would be best to wait outside since the bar was starting to get congested. When she reached to open the door, her gaze was glued to her purse while she dug for her cellphone.

Before she knew it, she accidentally bumped into someone, causing her to stumble back.

She stood up, immediately apologizing, moving to the side as more people walked in. “Shit. I’m so sorry!”

“Sky?” His voice was low and hesitant.

In hearing that voice, his voice… she looked up, suddenly feeling the air grow thick. The bar started to feel small, as if it was enclosing around her.

She felt her body go cold, her legs started to feel weak and numb. No words escaped her mouth, she was rendered speechless.

He studied her, noticing she was just as fucking stunning as he remembered. After all these years, the feeling he got when she looked up at him, never changed.

“Sky…”

“Stay the fuck away from me, Roman,” her voice cracked, while tears began to pool in her eyes. She pushed past him, while quickly walking away.

He knew he deserved it, but hearing her call him by that name fucking stung.

He stopped her by gently grabbing her arm.

“Sky, if you never want to see me again after this, I’ll…I’ll let you be. But please just let me explain,” he pleaded.

“I think it’s a little too fucking late for that,” she scoffed.

Sky walked out the bar without looking back, quickly texting Lori saying she’d be at a café a few blocks over. Right now all she wanted was to create as much distance as possible, from the man who broke her heart.

#roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns fic #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns fanfiction

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c0s-lettuce · 1 day ago

Note

Not sure if this will make sense

But can you do when were Sergei first love comes back. Either he runs into her when he’s out hunting someone and it ends up being her father

a/n: hi nonnie, thanks for the request! i decided to write this in more of a blurb style, hope that's okay!

------

it's hard to forget first love, let alone one that was so strong. sergei was young when he met her, but he knew immediately. this was no passing fancy. that's why he ended it. it was his last act of control before he fell in too deep.

his new life was lonely, but he accepted it. he told himself he was sparing her from future heartbreak. it was for the best. he wasn't made for love, at least not anymore.

he would think about her less and less over the years. not necessarily because he stopped caring, but because he just didn't have the time.

but sometimes he couldn't help it. he'd hear a song that she used to like, or he'd walk past someone who resembled her. or sometimes, during sleepiness nights, he'd think of her completely unprompted.

work was a good distraction. sergei was following a rather long trail of people when he came across his next target. but the name gave him pause. he stared at the surname. her surname.

but the first name belonged to a man. sergei shook his head. there are eight billion people in this world. this was just a coincidence. a distant cousin, at most.

but soon, he found out that this man was in fact was her father. sergei remembered very little about him, except that he was distant and shady, much like his own father. perhaps that was a reason he got along so well with her.

but currently, sergei was at a loss. what was he supposed to do? abandon the hunt? find out more? try to find her?

no, no. he couldn't possibly... could he?

but after too much stalling, he decided he couldn't keep running from her forever. he had to face this. it was time.

------

she lived an unassuming life, doing what she needed to get by. it was a peaceful existence, if it wasn't for her father's constant pestering.

she didn't know the details of his criminal life, steering clear of him as soon as she was old enough. desperate to reconnect, he would regularly reach out to her and try to make amends.

it was all for show. she knew this. he was only trying to make himself feel better for being a shitty father. so, she ignored him.

it didn't take long for sergei to find her. however, it did take long for him to approach her. he watched her leave work one night. she was beautiful. more graceful, almost ethereal. but most of all, she was still... her.

she froze when she heard her name. the voice was low and rough, but strikingly familiar. she turned around and saw him, standing before her. sergei kravinoff.

for a moment, she could only stare. she was speechless. sergei couldn't help the satisfaction he felt from still having that effect on her.

"it's been a while," he said. "can we talk? over dinner, maybe?"

no, she wanted to say, as unpleasant memories threaten to surface. she didn't want anything to do with him.

sensing her hesitation, sergei added, "please? it's about your father."

she furrowed her brow. what does he know about her father? she wasn't sure what sergei was involved in these days, but if he's sought her out after all this time, it must be important.

finally she spoke, "alright, fine. lead the way."

sergei nodded, relieved. as they walked, he tried to calm his nerves. he wasn't here to reconnect. he was here strictly for business. but history is bound to repeat itself. he would start falling for her again. he would feel like he's losing control. but maybe this time, he won't run.

#sergei kravinoff #sergei kravinoff x reader #kraven the hunter #kraven the hunter x reader #kraven #kraven x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #aaron taylor johnson #atj

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its-your-mind · 2 days ago

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Something something timkon and hair and how lex lichrally programmed Kon to shave his head before he went all luthor and was forced to attack his team, his best friends, his family. and then how most of the hair on the back of Tim’s head got burned off when he got blowed up (thx Steph) and he had to cut or shave the rest of it off so it could grow back semi-evenly. and how kon was a #rebel esp compared to all-American Boy Scout Superman; Kon’s rockin around with the side cut and the leather jacket and the buckles and the spikes or the (ill-advised and made me sad) black t-shirt and jeans but even the “I am a totally normal bro” getup made him distinct and different from Kal and that is really important to Kon because he wants to be his own person, not a Superman-stand-in. and THEN fucking LEX made it so Kon would look more like Lex! his other DNA donor!!! And Tim!! He kept his hair short — just long enough to spike it up as Robin — until both of his parents were gone. which suggests to me that he kinda always wanted it long (hello Tim Drake, #1 Dick Grayson stan) but that just wasn’t an option allowed to him (not uncommon for parents who care Very Much about Appearances — my own parents were the same about my brothers’ hair growing up, not least because the private all-boys school they went to dictated that their hair couldn’t be long enough to touch the collar of their shirt (with exceptions for [insert kinda racist and vaguely xenophobic language here] hair styles). As soon as he turned 18 my baby brother got a rocker-style mane. But I digress. Anyway). Then, post-tragedy, Tim’s hair got long enough to flip down over his forehead and stream behind him when he swung through the city (perhaps one of his ways of clinging to control and his sense of self in the whole awful situation). But then… Tim got fucking exploded, betrayed by his ex-girlfriend who had only just returned after letting him grieve her death for a year, and now she’s following Tim’s dead father mentor’s instructions to challenge him or whatever the fuck bullshit Batman told her, (a young girl whose own father was an asshole criminal, who so desperately wanted Bruce to be proud of her) and now Tim has to cut his hair all the way down to the scalp again and listen. I’m sorry dc tim looks fucking amazing in adventure comics and I’m in love with how he is arted but hair cannot and does not grow back that quick!! Mf had to wait!! I bet it grew in fucking patchy!! I bet kon’s did too!! (prolly not as bad as Tim’s cuz Tim’s got scar tissue and shit.)

but I just think tim and kon deserve a chance to sit down and just commiserate with each other about growing their hair back out (growing back out a sidecut is a BITCH I speak from experience) and Tim’s prolly having to trim his own hair super often to keep it nice-ish while it comes back in, and Kon’s curls are just a fucking MESS until they grow out enough to like. Curl. (Again, speaking from experience) And they’re just shooting the shit (“well MINE was worse bc I looked like fucking LEX. LUTHOR.” / “well you didn’t have to wait to figure out which parts of your scalp we actually gonna bother growing hair again”) until it gets quiet for a minute. And then one of them asks if the hair also reminds the other one of The Shitty Thing That Happened. And then they fucking talk about it. About how they can’t look in the mirror without having a flashback of pain or rage. How it makes them feel like they don’t even get to control their own bodies, their own appearances, and how much that fucking sucks. How they go to run their hand through their hair and there’s just. Not enough of it to do that. How Kon is terrified that somehow looking like Lex means Lex will use him to hurt the people he loves again. How every time Tim sees another Bat or Bird looking at the back of his head, all he can think about is how they might be planning to lure him into another Bat-mandated trap test. How both Tim and Kon kinda really miss the feeling of people playing with their hair. How they miss playing with each others’ hair.

And maybe then one of them extends an offer and the other does the same and they agree to do each others’ hair. Maybe it’ll help paint a new layer over those awful memories.

So Kon finds Tim once a week (he’s never in the same place, he’s rarely even in the same country) and he trims the hair until it looks even, gives Tim the #sitch on how much hair is growing back in. After the second or third week he realizes that Tim’s not keeping up with his burn-care routine, so he starts bringing burn and scar cream with him too. Then he remembers Tim’s lack of a hair care routine and starts trying out different products on Tim’s hair to see what works best. Tim doesn’t say anything, but he thinks all of this feels even better than when Kon and Cassie used to twist little braids into his hair.

Kon insists that Tim doesn’t have to help until his hair’s grown out more, (that he doesn’t want Tim nearby and distracted while Kon still looks like Lex) but Tim outright refuses to let Kon push him away and he will NOT be outdone in the caretaking game. He waits until Kon’s busy fighting some giant alien robot in metropolis and sneaks in to the Kents’ house to scope out what products Kon uses. When he leaves the bathroom, Ma Kent is there, eyebrow raised. She tells him he “could have just knocked on the front door, sweetheart, we know how’ta keep secrets in this house. Now, let’s get some food in you before Conner comes home. You’re all skin and bones, hun.” So Tim goes downstairs and takes some mini meat pies for the road, and then researches the products Kon uses, what they do, what the ingredients do, if there are other (more expensive) options that people have sworn up and down are better. He amasses a collection, and the next time Kon shows up with clippers and healing creams and a new shampoo to try, Tim’s already got ten different products lined up on the sink — everything from shampoos and conditioners to serums and masks. Kon asks if these are things Tim wants Kon to use in Tim’s hair. Tim tells him that no, all of these are for Tim to try on Kon. Kon almost cries. (He does cry, he just doesn’t let the tears fall until Tim isn’t looking.) (Tim notices anyway ofc.) And Tim’s made a spreadsheet to track the effectiveness of different products, different ingredients, different combinations, so he tells Kon to start coming every 2-3 days instead, so he can establish results using a realistic timeframe. Sometimes, if Tim’s gonna be in one place for a few days, Kon just crashes with him. (Neither of them say it, but they both fucking CRAVE the old Core Four cuddle piles.) Eventually, when Kon’s hair is long enough that he’s ready to switch back to his side-cut again, Tim surprises him by not only shaving the hair down, but shaving a few racing stripes (“they’re flight patterns!” / “rob, I dunno what to tell you. everyone’s gonna think they’re racing stripes. doesn’t mean they aren’t dope as fuck, though.”) into Kon’s hair. Every time Kon’s hair grows out enough, Tim shaves it back and stencils in a new design. Kon starts making requests (“gimme the Super ‘S’!” / “It’s the House of El crest, Kon. You know that. Also, you have a secret identity to maintain.” / “C’mon, I’ll just say I’m a fan!” / “With the same El family crest shaved onto your scalp as Superboy?” / “No one’s noticed the identical head decor yet!”) but it’s the day Kon asks (with the same confident and mischievous tone as always) for Tim to shave in the Red Robin crest that something in Tim’s chest, something formless and warm that he hadn’t really paid attention to before, seers a burning path through his heart, takes root, and solidifies.

“Kon. I love you.”

Kon’s distracted, rifling through their hair-care bags for Tim’s razors. “Love you too, Robbie. Duh. That’s why I’m askin’ you to shave your cre–”

“No,” Tim shakes his head, mildly frustrated with himself for the lack of clarity. “I’m in love with you. I think I have been for a while.”

Kon is seated in the chair they’d pulled into the bathroom from the hotel room’s desk, so he has to look up to meet Tim’s eyes. The hand digging beneath sample bottles of leave-in conditioner freezes, still wrist-deep in hair products. Kon’s expression looks to Tim like one of his video games’ character builders froze between the settings for ‘bright smile’ and ‘shock and awe.’

So Tim just looks down at him. Waits. If this was anyone else, Tim would probably be losing his mind right now, but… it’s Kon. Tim’s safe. Kon would never do anything to hurt him.

Kon unfreezes, blinks a few times. “Could you–” he coughs. “Could you say that again? I think my brain maybe like, malfunctioned for a second.”

Tim takes a step closer, reaches out one hand to cup Kon’s cheek, scratches his fingertips through the stubble on the side of Kon’s head. “I’m in love with you, Conner Kent.”

Tears fill Kon’s eyes, and he blinks them away. “That’s– that’s what I thought you said.” His hand (the one not trapped beneath a sea of shampoos, some detached and unhelpful part of Tim’s mind remarks) comes up to gently rest on Tim’s hip. “Robbie, Tim, I– of course I’m in love with you. You– you’re– you’re amazing, you know that? You’re so kind and strong and you’re a genius and you’re a gift to everyone around you; I dunno how everyone else doesn’t see you like I do.”

Tim can’t help but reach out his other hand to wrap around the back of Kon’s head, to feel where the curls carve a path down through the shorter hair and come to a sharp point.

“I mean, damn Wonder Boy,” Kon tries to muster up his Superboy smirk, but the look in his eyes is full of too much genuine affection for him to pull it off. “I think I’ve been in love with you since Kauai, since you grabbed me outta free-fall and swung me to safety. You caught me. No one’d ever done that before. And then you just… kept doing it. You’re still saving me, still taking care of me.”

Kon reaches his other hand (no eruption of hairspray, thank you TTK, that same unhelpful part of Tim’s mind comments. Read the room! the rest of Tim yells at it.) around the back of Tim’s neck, avoiding the tender and scarred areas with practiced ease, and pulls Tim down until their foreheads touch.

“I love you, Wonder. I love you, Robbie.” Kon tilts his head up, waits until their eyes meet. He’s got the biggest smile on his face that Tim’s ever seen.

Tim smiles back, and Kon’s eyes soften. “I love you, Tim.”

Tim leans down and uses his hands on either side of Kon’s head to guide Kon’s lips up to his own.

This is what I want to remember, Tim thinks as he feels Kon’s fingers gliding softly against the sensitive skin of his burn, feels Kon’s TTK covering and protecting the parts still too tender to touch. Tim runs his own fingertips back and forth over the stubble on the sides of Kon’s head, before pushing them up until they’re tangled in Kon’s curls.

I don’t want to care anymore whether or not the people around me look at the back of my head and see weakness or failure. They don’t get to decide whether this mark on my body matters or what it means. I do. And I decide that these scars are important because they brought me here, to this moment. They brought me to Kon.

Kon tilts his head down to break the kiss. He stands up, and before Tim gets a chance to move away and give him space, Kon wraps his arms and TTK around him. He plants a kiss in Tim’s hair. “Damn, Wonder Boy. Having to grow all my hair back almost feels worth it if it got me here.”

Tim smiles and wraps his arms around Kon’s waist, nestles into Kon’s chest. “You know what, Clone Boy? I was just thinking the same thing.”

#hmm. this was supposed to be a meta post idk what happened.#(that’s a lie ik what happened what happened is I love timkon vv much)#anyway pls ignore timeline inconsistency if DC gets to fuck up their own timeline for story reasons then so can I #it’s about the queer need to have control of your appearance and how the world sees you #it’s about the intimacy of doing someone else’s hair care #it’s about being VULNERABLE by letting someone you love see and care for the parts of you you don’t like and/or can’t control #dcu #dc comics #tim drake #conner kent #kon-el #timkon #superboy/robin #superboy/robin: world’s finest three #world’s finest three #robin 181 #teen titans (2003) 24

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your-nanas-house · 11 hours ago

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Cillian murphy x fem!reader

The reader's aunt is going to a honeymoon with her husband for two weeks, so she leaves her 10 months old baby with her niece and her boyfriend cillian

And cillian is INLOVE with that baby, and he keeps saying he wishes he could give you one until he tries to

Fluff and smut plss🥹

Sure thing!!! Sorry it took me so long 😭 very unique idea btw. 🙇🏼‍♀️

Baby fever

◇ Pairing: Cillian Murphy X girlfriend/fiancè!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut (Cillian cums too fast), mention of pregnancy and baby fever, babysitting, both off age, fluff

◇ Summary: You and Cillian babysit your baby cousin and your amazing boyfriend gets baby fever.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Shitty writing... sorry about that, I'm still trying to "get my mind back in the writing".

"I really wish for us to have one too" the so unexpected and sudden sentence left Cillian's lips a quiet evening.

You've been busy taking care of your cousin, since your so kind aunt left you to babysit him during her honeymoon. A baby, a 10 months and some weeks old baby, dropped in your care at your door with some begging and thanking.

It has been just some weeks since your not-paid job began, and ignoring the first days of struggling, you and your boyfriend, Cillian, took the new routine strangely well. Adapting well to the new schedules and cries and needs that a baby could have.

A few days and you both were smitten; that baby had you really wrapped around his little, chubby finger.... and he didn't even know it yet. Everything about babysitting made you wish for it to never end, even the random tantrums or the diaper moments.

You had been sitting on the sofa, your baby cousin asleep in his crib in the other room as you cuddled with Cillian. The TV off. You had been just enjoying your small moment of silence and intimacy when that sentence slipped from his lips:

"I really wish for us to have one too" your mind froze, slowly taking in every since word your boyfriend just said.

"I don't wanna rush things or put any pressure on you, love... but we've been together since years now and this weeks with your baby cousin made me realize how ready I am to take... any further steps in our relationship" he continued after a moment of silence, you could tell he was pondering about it carefully by the way his gaze remained focused on a spot and his eyebrows slightly raised

"Plus I might have what they call baby fever" he added in a weaker tone to lighten up the mood... and it worked. You didn't let him add anything else not wanting him to think you weren't on his same page

"I think so too... I mean we are about to get married and I just love you so much. Plus we don't know if it will work right away" you commented in a shy but earger voice, glancing at him as if it was your first time having sex... asking for it.

"Yeah?" Cillian asked after your answer, his light blue eyes finally looking at you with hope and love, making your heart skip a beat

"Yeah" you replied in a softer tone, taking his face in your hands to bring him in a needy kiss.

Soft noises of approval kept living your mouth as his soft lips trailed a path down your neck to your chest; his warm tongue draw shapes on your skin while his slender fingers in quick motions, finally, removed the layers of clothes.

"I love you" your eyes met as you caressed Cillian's pale and flushed skin up to his messy hair as soon as your kiss broke. Your breaths became one and your chests moved together, brushing against each other.

His cock was already painfully hard, resting against his stomach and leaking precum; it just needed a couple of strokes, and it got fully ready. His other hand worked your clit, his index finger explored your cunt, adding in no time another finger

"Yes, yes!" You whimpered out, your body shaking in pure pleasure.

The intimacy of the moment made it feel even more intense, forcing you to hold back moans, limiting them to heavy breaths and soft praises.

It felt so right and so good. You hoped it would never end.

Your mouth connected again, sharing the same passion; your hearts nearly beating in sync. You just needed one more thing.... his cock finally inside of you, stretching you out like only Cillian could do and bring you to feel— not exactly what you expected.

As your mind focused and dreamed about the imminent pleasure, it didn't register the warm feeling of his cum shooting in. It was just when his cock started to soften that you finally realized

"I'm so sorry, love. I was bit too excited—" Cillian voice interrupted the silence, his pale face flushed in embarrassment and bit of shame

".... I make it up to you" he added quickly while already trying to move down your body to finish you off with his tongue, but without succeeding since your legs had his hips caged in a iron grip

"Don't you dare move, Cilly. Stay inside... We can always try tomorrow and you can make it up then"

#cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy fandom #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy smut

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nikethestatue · 2 days ago

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Not Another Hallmark Christmas Story

Chapter 2: A Christmas Miracle? No

TW: Non consensual sexual activity

Azriel paid for the tree.

I didn’t want him to, but he ignored me when I tried to pay. It was $78 and I felt bad.

“Get in the car,” he told me. “Your shivering is driving me nuts.”

I bristled at his rudeness, but then he chose to hoist and tie the tree to the roof of the car, and you know what? Whatever! More power to him. If he wanted to do the shitty jobs, then he could be my guest. I sat in the car, in the passenger seat, because he made me, even though it was my vehicle! But I was so overcome with dread about him being in my house, I didn’t even care about that.

I still didn’t understand what his game was exactly? Why was he doing this? Why did he want to come to my house and decorate my tree?

Fifteen minutes later, he opened the door and slipped inside the warm car.

“You couldn’t have chosen a colder day?” he muttered under his breath, and then put his arm around my seat, looking back and pulling out of the parking spot. I had a camera in the car, but Azriel didn’t seem like the guy who trusted cameras.

“It’s 170-,” I started to tell him my address, but he cut me off and reminded me,

“I remember. I’ve been there before,” and he smirked.

I groaned inwardly.

Last Christmas

“You are hammered.”

It wasn’t a question.

Azriel stood with his hands in his pockets, his suit jacket still crisp and pristine. My co-workers were looking worse for wear, though they were still standing. After dinner, there was more drinking and charades, and then more drinking.

“I am not!” I protested. “I am perfectly fine.”

“Stand up then,” he jerked his chin at me, willing me to stand up.

I stood up, and then immediately swayed on my feet, careening so violently that he threw his arm out and steadied me. He didn’t grab my arm, or my hand. He wrapped his arm around my waist for a brief moment. He was firm and hard all over–his chest, his arm, his hand, his shoulder. For the few moments that we stood that closely together that’s all I felt–firmness and warmth.

“Looks like you are hammered,” he pointed out, as I swayed again.

I could hear myself slurring a bit ‘No I am not!’.

“Uhuh,” was all he muttered.

“I am just buzzed. I am not hammered!” I continued arguing with him.

“I am taking you home,” he announced then, ignoring my protestations.

Even in my inebriated state, alarm bells rang, “No, no! I can’t go with you.”

He only snorted and nudged me towards the coat room.

“No!” I repeated, frustrated, and a little scared, “you can’t take me home. I am not allowing you to!”

He actually laughed at that and simply said, “I wasn’t asking for permission.”

He walked me to the coat room, but I didn't have my ticket with me and he sat me down on a bench and said that he was going to be right back. I closed my eyes. I really wanted to go to sleep. And I wasn’t going to go anywhere with him! Never. I was going to get an Uber and go home. And then I was just going to sleep the whole weekend. Yes, that sounded like a good plan.

I must have dozed off after all, because the next thing I remember was Azriel standing there with my coat, my purse, and my phone, casually scrolling through it. How did he know my code??! How…what…how… I leapt to my feet, almost falling over in the process and landing on his chest, while he easily caught me around the waist, and held me to him, while his thumb scrolled through my contacts. I attempted to snatch the phone back from him, but he easily outmaneuvered me and simply whispered ‘settle down’. I watched in complete dismay as he paused on the names of my co-workers. My male co-workers. Graysen Nolan. Isaac Hale. Eris Vanserra. He then proceeded to delete them all from my contacts.

“Who is Ripleigh?” he asked blandly. “Is it a man or a woman?”

“It’s a woman! It’s my aunt!” I cried out desperately.

He left the contact alone and then dropped the phone back into my purse.

As if he didn’t just violate my privacy, didn’t break into my phone, and didn’t delete a bunch of my contacts, he easily held my coat for me and even gently helped me find the sleeves, before buttoning me up as if I was a toddler. His own coat was dark and expensive and long.

“I am going home,” I declared uselessly, once we stepped out of the restaurant.

North Pond restaurant in Lincoln Park, Chicago

It was cold and the park looked dark and menacing, despite it usually being pretty and safe in the daylight. Strong wind was blowing from the lake and I huddled into my coat.

“I know,” he said, and then offered me his arm, as if he was a gentleman, which I was forced to take, considering that I was wearing heels and was buzzed. For that one moment, and only that, I was sort of grateful that he was with me and that he was walking me to my Uber.

By the time we exited the park, I was freezing and also thankful that Azriel was next to me. His big body shielded me from the wind, and when it got especially gusty, he took a step back, so he could cover me and take the brunt of the cold himself. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought that he was being nice.

I mean, I’ll give credit where credit is due–Azriel Sebstian Singer was rather nice to me today. He didn’t critique me, he complimented me on how I played the game of trivia, he kept buying me drinks all night long (expensive ones too, with top shelf liquor.)

At some point in the evening, Graysen Nolan came over to me and we chatted about the Bears and how badly they were playing. Since it was Graysen and not Azriel, topics of conversation were limited to sports and work. Azriel didn’t interfere, but sat there, talking to my co-worker Gwyneth, who was a junior analyst on the team. She was very pretty, with her burnished bronze hair, tied in a high, perfectly straight pony, thin limbs and well-polished look of an Instagram influencer. She probably had a 19-step skincare routine. My routine was washing my face, if I remembered to, and moisturizing. She was drinking white wine and laughing a lot. Azriel seemed friendly and engaging and he smiled at her. I don’t know why, but it annoyed me. It annoyed me that she could laugh like that with him, her face open and her giggles bright. I could never do that with him. I could never be that carefree and relaxed. And his face wasn’t as intense when he was speaking with her. He always looked like he wanted to devour me. With her, he looked blandly polite.

“Buy you a drink?” Graysen had asked me, stepping a little too close to me.

“I’ve been drinking all night,” I admitted.

“You have it in you for one more,” he winked at me. “What are you drinking? Gin and tonic?”

Before I could answer, he ordered a gin and tonic for me. House gin. Problem was that I didn’t like gin and tonic at all. It was my least favourite cocktail–bitter and watery and medicinal. I wanted another one of those incredible dirty martinis that Azriel had gotten me. I pretended to sip the gin. When I looked across the bar, I’d noticed that Azriel was smirking in my direction. Like he knew that I wasn’t enjoying the drink.

“I wish I could ask you out,” Graysen told me, his eyes planted on my cleavage for a little too long. “I think these rules are unreasonable. And I am fixin’ to break them,” he grinned at me with a knowing look.

“I am flattered,” I murmured, and threw a nervous glance at Azriel praying that he didn’t hear what Graysen had proposed. Azriel seemed to have been engaged in a conversation with a few men from the team, with Gwyn laughing in the midst of the gathering, her fingers planted on Azriel’s bicep. However, the moment I looked up at him, I felt his eyes on me.

The risk wasn’t worth it. Graysen wasn’t enticing enough for me to risk Azriel’s wrath, however unreasonable it was.

…I was cold, sleepy but feeling giddy once we got out of the park. Azriel pulled out his phone and ordered an Uber. “Seven minutes away,” he said to me. I knew that I should let go of his arm, but he was so big and warm, and I was so tired. So, instead of disengaging from him, I closed my eyes–just a moment–and leaned against his shoulder. I was drunk, okay? I didn’t mean to. I shouldn’t have. But we stood there, under the street light, with random snowflakes swirling around us and the wind whipping my hair around my shoulders.

“You talked to Gwyn a lot tonight,” I said, my eyes still closed.

“You spoke with Graysen. Did he ask you out?” he chuckled in response.

“Maybe.”

“What did you tell him?” he didn’t sound angry. Merely curious.

“That I couldn’t. We couldn’t.”

“And if you could?” he pushed.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Would you go out with Gwyn if you could?”

He snorted in derision,

“Gwyn? No. Why would I?”

“She likes you,” I pointed out. “She’d want you to ask her.”

“She’ll be waiting a long time.”

“You don’t like her?” I asked.

“Not at all. He is too young. She talks too much. She dares to one up me in things, which is ridiculous,” he concluded haughtily.

“Maybe she is confident?” I argued.

“Stupid, more like. She is tangling with someone who is almost ten years older than her.”

“Oh my god, are you 37?” I exclaimed and opened my eyes.

He was looking at me, resting my head on his shoulder.

“No,” his brow furrowed, “you think that I am almost 40 years old?”

Shit.

“I mean, no…I don’t know. You look good,”

“If you add ‘for your age’ I will write you up,” he threatened, but there was no bite behind it. Mostly amusement.

“You can’t do that! But also…35?”

“I am 33 years old, Elain,” he groaned.

I tried to stifle a laugh. He looked so put off by my guessing his age, it was actually amusing.

A Toyota pulled up to the curb and Azriel checked his phone.

“That’s us,” he said.

Us?

His hand slipped down my back and he placed it just above my hip, almost on my ass, his pinkie definitely a little too low for comfort. He prodded me towards the car and opened the door, helping me slide inside the cabin. It was awkward in my drunken state, but I finally plopped in the seat and my head lolled to the side. I just wanted to sleep.

“Good ni-,” I began saying, but stopped abruptly because Azriel was sliding in after me. His coat was cold against my skin when I brushed against the soft cashmere. He folded his massive body into the back seat, manspreading widely and pressing into my side.

“What are you doing?” I had the sense to ask.

“What am I doing?” he asked, visibly confused.

“Why are you in the car? Where are you doing?” I pushed, now pathetically nervous.

“You think I am going to let you ride in some shady Uber in the middle of the night when you are drunk?” he asked rationally, ignoring the driver’s outraged glance and sighing, like I was asking stupid questions. When he put it like that it made sense, but it also didn’t.

“I don’t live far,” he explained further. “About 20 minutes from your place.”

“And you’ll drop me off and go home then?” I asked hopefully.

He hummed something unintelligible and didn’t respond.

I must have dozed off for a few minutes, because by the time I opened my eyes, we were almost in Wicker Park. I don't know how or why, but my hand was on this thigh, palm up. I jerked it back, feeling embarrassed. He was my manager. And I didn’t like him. And none of this was even remotely appropriate.

I watched his handsome profile and his heavy-lidded eyes. He truly was very beautiful. Shame he was such a dick most of the time.

He must have sensed that I woke up because he looked at me and his expression was almost soft. There wasn’t a lot that was soft about Azriel, but right now, in the darkness and the flickering lights, he seemed content.

He looked at me for a beat of time and then said, “You can sleep”.

Then he looked at his phone, and muttered, “I’ll get some work done.”

I noticed graphs and charts on his screen and told him, “It’s Friday.”

“Never stopped me before,” he said in his usual clipped tone. “Besides, I need to rework one of your buddy Graysen’s reports, because he screwed it up. Yours also need work.”

My heart beat rapidly and heat flooded my cheeks.

“I sent it to you for review before we left the office!” I reminded him defensively.

“You did,” he agreed. “And it needs work. Kind of sloppy on the UBS data.”

“No it’s not!” I argued.

He leveled one of his stony gazes and said, “If I said it’s sloppy, then it’s sloppy.”

The driver snorted a laugh.

Azriel pursed his lips with distaste, as if he was the only one who was allowed to berate me. My cheeks were painfully hot.

“Go to sleep,” Azriel said again.

“We are almost home.”

“I’ll wake you.”

So I did.

I didn’t know then what I know now.

When I inhaled his scent, his cedar-scented aftershave, it seemed familiar. Bold, but almost comforting. I didn’t know back then that the scent would come to disgust me. And yet, a year later, I didn’t know that I would be like a trained dog, responding to it with fear, trepidation and familiarity.

I leaned against his shoulder and fell asleep.

When I woke up the following morning, I felt a bit disoriented. Wildly thirsty. My head was heavy, my temples pounding. I haven’t felt this bad probably since college, and I wasn’t much of a partier even then. My mouth was dry and I had real difficulty moving my tongue around. My stomach was unsettled, but at least I didn’t have the urge to vomit. My limbs were laden though, heavy and stiff. I probably would have slept for another thirty hours and still be tired.

My brain moved slowly, like a sleepy sloth.

And then, I was jolted awake. Violently.

Because the smell…the scent of him. Unmistakable. It was here. In my nostrils. Permeating the air around me.

And then, the heat.

The heat of him, of his body, the heaviness of his bones all around me.

Mind you, all of this took place in my brain within about 3-4 seconds. Once I knew, I knew it all.

I knew that he was in bed with me.

I knew that he was under my duvet with me.

I knew that I was feeling his bare skin against my own.

I knew that he was spooning me from behind.

I knew that it was his hot, long cock in the crack of my ass.

I knew that it was his breath on my shoulder, fanning my hair.

I knew that he was naked? Almost naked? His legs and arms were naked.

I knew that I wasn’t wearing anything on my legs. Underwear? Did I have underwear on?

I knew that his big palm was cupping my breast possessively.

I knew that his other hand was between my legs, warm skin lodged between my thighs.

I thought frantically about what had transpired last night?

I didn’t remember coming upstairs to my apartment, but there was a vague sense of him being here and walking me in. How did he open the door? Did I give him the keys? Or did he rummage through my bag? Well, considering how he spied on me, found out my phone code, and then broke into my phone and proceeded to delete a bunch of contacts, I suppose him digging through my purse wasn’t that big of a deal. Almost expected behaviour, I guess.

After that, things were even muddier in my stupid brain.

The only thing that I recalled with any degree of clarity was a moment where I was in the bed, barely awake, and he was hovering on top of me and my dress was hiked up over my hips and he was rolling my pantyhose down my legs.

That was it.

Suddenly he moved. I think he was still asleep. He sighed softly and his face pressed to the back of my neck, as he inhaled softly. His hand moved between my closed thighs, pressing into my flesh, and then he cupped me. Cupped my pussy in his hand as if this was the most natural thing for him to do. Only then, to my endless relief, I realised that I was wearing underwear. Didn’t stop him from brushing his thumb over the indentation of my slit. It was a proprietary and familiar gesture, as if he’s done this a million times before with me.

“I liked you more when you were sleeping,” he suddenly groaned in my ear. “You were nice and relaxed.”

I was too shocked to speak. Meanwhile, he spoke like this was not a big deal.

“I like how soft you are,” he added casually and moved his hips, grinding into me.

“What are you doing?” I finally managed to whisper.

“Waking up, I guess,” he shrugged.

Then, with some disdain in his voice, he added venomously, “I am sorry. This must be very disappointing for you. That it’s me, and not Graysen. Or Eris. You are waking up next to Azriel Singer and not someone you actually like.”

I don’t know…I don’t know what he sounded like at that moment?

Angry? But also hurt? Also disappointed?

I, personally, wasn’t disappointed. I was petrified and completely discombobulated. That wasn’t ‘disappointment’. This was a full on freak out.

I swallowed. Hard.

“Did we?” I couldn’t finish the thought.

No. No. No.

Please G-d. No.

“Have we,”

He groaned again.

“Please, like you wouldn’t feel if you had me inside of you?” he chortled unhappily.

“But then,”

“I didn’t feel like calling another Uber and going home,” he said.

“So you decided to just park here, undress me and sleep with me?!” I cried, fighting a full blown panic attack.

“I suppose I did, didn’t I?”

I opened my mouth to speak further, but he interrupted, “And before you assume that you can run to HR and start accusing me of things, may I remind you that everyone saw that you willingly went with me? That you were at the bar with me, drinking and laughing. And that, if I was inside of you, I would’ve worn a condom–at least for now–and,”

“You said we didn’t do anything!” I screamed, trying to turn around in his arms.

He kept me in place.

“I said that you would know if we did,” he argued calmly. “Would you, Elain?” his thumb slowly dragged over my nipple, circling it. “Or are you a sweet, and innocent virgin, just waiting for someone strong and powerful to come and make you his?”

I couldn’t even respond.

He sighed and then pulled away. Once the enormity of his body separated from me, I curled into a ball under the duvet, tucking my knees to my chest.

“As I was saying,” he continued, swinging his legs and planting them on the floor, as he rubbed his face. “Keep all your emotions to yourself. You are a strong and capable woman. I am sure I don’t need to tell you that it would be unwise to speak to anyone about this–you have a successful career ahead of you. What’s more, I will be your manager in a few weeks. And you will be under my complete control.”

I barely contained a sob which threatened to escape me.

A million very uncomfortable questions swirled in my head, but I didn’t dare ask any of them.

It was petrifying that I’d have to become some kind of a sex slave to my new boss.

It was horrifying to think that maybe he did have sex with me while I was unconscious.

It scared me to think that maybe, this was…something? One thing is lust. But what if this was some kind of stalking? An odd obsession that this powerful, respected man harboured for me for whatever reason?

“Also,” he continued when I didn’t respond. “You don’t know if I took any photos. Or videos. And if I did, you don’t know how you might look in them.”

Oh god. This was not something I expected for him to pull.

I forgot. We lived in the age of everything being filmed or photographed. Why wouldn’t he? If he wanted my silence or assurance that this would stay between us, he would take photos.

“Did you?” I asked at last and my voice sounded hollow even to my own ears.

“Did I what?”

“Take photos? Videos?”

“For me to know, for you not to find out and live with an uncomfortable thought of ‘what if he did’?”

“Why are you doing this to me?!” I all but screamed.

“Doing what, exactly?” he inquired cruelly and I heard him stroll into the bathroom. “Buy you drinks? Guide your career? Making sure that you got home safe?” I heard him relieve himself and then the toilet flushed. “Oh, keeping douchebags like Graysen from taking advantage of you? Someone who’d pump and dump and then you’d be walking around the office all teary eyed and clutching at your blouse?”

“He…he…he wouldn’t,” I tried.

“Oh, no, he totally would,” he called out from the bathroom. The water was on. He was brushing his teeth. Was he using my toothbrush?!?! I don’t know why this was the one thing that almost pushed me over the edge? Of all the things that I’ve experienced since last night, this was something that I couldn’t comprehend.

He stepped out of the bathroom.

His voice was close, and I kept my eyes shut.

“And to answer your little ‘woe is me!’ question about why I am doing this to you: maybe I like you.”

“What?” I didn’t mean to, but I opened my eyes on reflex.

“Yeah,” he huffed. “Just because you have some kind of warped opinion of me and you are a haughty princess who wouldn’t give anyone the time of day, doesn’t mean that your opinion is correct.”

Whatever he said, I wasn’t paying attention.

Because all he wore was a pair of boxer briefs, his unnaturally perfect body on full display. His brown skin was smooth and stretched tautly over an intricate maze of muscles and perfect sinew and bulging veins. He was hairless, and his pecs were like slabs of burnished bronze, and what surprised me the most were the black tattoos that covered parts of his shoulders and wrapped around his powerful, muscular arms.

He padded towards the living room and the kitchen, leaving me behind. I thought he’d be getting dressed and finally leaving me alone. But, surprise-surprise, I wasn’t so lucky! Instead, I heard the kitchen sink water run, and then some kind of movement of pots and pans.

Was he…cooking?

I finally got up, refusing to go and investigate. Whatever he was doing, he was doing. I wouldn't be able to stop him anyway.

I was wearing panties, and a t-shirt, but I was braless and the t-shirt was from my dresser. At the very least, he’d seen my breasts. He had removed my bra, which was draped over the door handle in an overly sexual manner, taunting me.

I tore the t-shirt off my body.

My nipples ached. I rushed to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. My breasts are large and full, and the skin is white. That morning, my nipples were unusually swollen and puffy. They puckered, like perfect pink round grapes. And just above my right nipple was an outline of a purplish bruise.

He’d sucked on them. He’d licked on my breasts, he sucked on my nipples. He bit them and he left a mark, which he wanted me to find. I brushed my palms over the nipples and winced. He definitely did more than sucking–in the recess of my mind, I recalled him pinching them, rolling them between his fingers. I recalled his dark head looming over me, his tongue lapping over my tits and I remembered him smirking at me, when he pulled my nipples with his teeth, tonguing them roughly. He branded me with his teeth.

His bite felt somehow final. Like he made me his.

I stepped into the shower, not caring that I was naked, and that he was just in the other room.

I washed my hair and scrubbed my body. It felt like he might have touched my clit too, but I wasn’t sure.

When I was done and my hair was wrapped in a towel, I noticed that he’d opened a new toothbrush. I had a set in one of the drawers, languishing there for at least a year, maybe longer. It’s not like anyone came and stayed here, so the package was unopened until today. What concerned me more was how he knew that I had this package of toothbrushes? And why didn’t I hear him rummage through the drawers? He found them immediately.

…”Did you touch me?”

I was dressed in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. I wasn’t going to dress up for him, and he wasn’t going to see me in yoga pants or anything even remotely revealing. My hair was wet and hanging over my shoulders, unstyled.

“Touched you?”

Azriel was still basically naked, still only in his boxers. The coffee was percolating on the stove, and the frying pan held a pile of cooked eggs, seared tomatoes, something green too. Spinach maybe?

I noticed that the counters were wiped clean and the dishes that I had left in the sink yesterday morning were washed and put away.

“Your apartment is messy,” he stated blandly, and poured coffee into one of my flower cups that I got from England. I watched him and contemplated whether I’ll need to toss them out now, because he touched them.

“Well, I am sorry, “ I snapped. “I guess you’ll just have to get the hell out of here,”

“Don’t be rude,” he warned me coldly.

I bit my lip and he glared at me with those green, penetrating eyes. Then, he slowly handed me the cup.

“Sit,” he ordered, “and you will be respectful.”

“Why are you here?” I demanded.

“Trying to bring you to heel is why I am here,” he snarled through his teeth, but it was quiet and he didn’t seem angry. More like annoyed. I guess he expected me to heel out of my own volition?

“Your apartment is messy,” he repeated. “Your mail is unopened and piled on there. Your clothes were tossed on the floor. The dishes were unwashed. The laundry basket is overflowing. There was a bunch of expired stuff in the fridge, which I had to toss,” and he glanced at the trash can.

What the hell. Why was he going through all my things? Throwing stuff out?

“Are you having trouble with work and life balance?” he queried imperiously.

What life? All I did was fucking worked nonstop! What ‘balance’?

“I am fine,” I muttered.

“Are you? Because it seems like things are being neglected and falling through the cracks.”

“And it’s none of your business,” I reminded him.

“I beg to differ.”

He picked up a plate and placed eggs and tomatoes on it and then sprinkled the whole thing with some grated cheese. He set the plate in front of me and then made himself one as well.

“Did you touch me?” I reminded him.

His fork stopped midway between the plate and his mouth and he looked at me with amusement.

“Of course I touched you.”

I almost choked on my eggs.

“I loved undressing you,” he said softly, watching me and my reactions. “Took the dress off you, then your pantyhose.”

“And?”

“Your tits are magnificent,” he stated simply, without breaking eye contact. “I knew that they would be. But honestly, I wasn’t prepared for how nice they were once I got the bra off you. So soft. Larger than I expected, which isn’t something I am going to complain about. I wasn’t expecting to play with them quite as much as I did, but once I got my hands on them, I couldn’t stop. Are they hurting?”

He was so preternaturally calm about this. An absolute psychopath. Drinking coffee and eating eggs and chatting like this was nothing.

“Yes,” I told him firmly.

Instead of remorse, he smiled a satisfied smile.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Azriel. They hurt.”

“Good. You’ll remember me and this night for a while now,”

“Hard to forget,” I said sarcastically.

“I sucked your nipples for like forty minutes straight,” he informed me. “I couldn't stop. When you are pregnant, they’ll be absolutely glorious. Large and sensitive…What can I say…I am a tit man.”

I stopped eating.

Pregnant?

Pregnant??

“Do you want me to suck them more?” he offered and I screamed ‘NO!’

He sighed.

“Pity.”

He finished his food and coffee and went to the sink to wash everything and tidy up.

“I’d stay, but I have a ton of work to do and I need to go grocery shopping,” he explained, as if I was begging him to stay or wondering what he would be doing later. He was insane.

He went to the living room, where I noticed his suit hanging neatly and pulled his trousers on.

“Why did you do it?”

“Do what, exactly? I’ve done a lot of things,” he told me, as he began buttoning his shirt.

“All of this…”

“Like I said, maybe I like you. Or maybe I am a psychopath who loves tormenting co-workers. Sucking on your tits? Well, that’s a given. I am a man and I find you rather attractive. Anything else?”

“Why did you delete all the contacts from my phone?” I don’t even know where that came from. But it’s been bothering me.

He frowned.

“Because, Elain, you don’t need anyone but me. You certainly don’t need Isaac or Graysen. And if you have a question about work, you will come to me,” his voice was chilly. “You will learn how to come to me for all your needs. You will get your pride under control and you will ask me for assistance. It will be me that you seek out. Me. I will be the center of your world. Do we understand each other?”

I sat there, in shocked silence.

“Do we understand each other?” he pressed.

I nodded.

What was I going to do?

I’d have to figure it out after I gathered my thoughts.

“Good,” he smiled at me.

He didn’t put his suit jacket on, but folded it over his arm. I was still at the kitchen table, when he came over and looked down at me.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” he asked smoothly, his knuckles gently brushing my hair.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Azriel. I will be a good girl for you.”

“You’ll listen? You’ll follow my directions? You won’t argue? You’ll come to me for help?”

“Yes.”

I sighed.

“Word by word,” he snapped.

I swallowed and repeated,

“I will be a good girl for you, Azriel. I will listen to you and you will guide me, and I will follow your directions without arguments. When I need help, I will seek you out.”

He smiled, his absurdly handsome face looking positively happy.

“You are my good girl,” he breathed, and then, his hands reached and he suddenly cupped my breasts. He squeezed them slowly, without breaking eye contact, and then slowly rolled them about, squeezing tighter. He watched me, as he thumbed my nipples. “Perfect,” he approved, and then pinched both nipples between his fingers and tugged on them. “Walk me to the door,” he told me then, and didn’t release me, and pulled on my nipples painfully. I got up, and he led me to the door by my nipples, tugging harder and rolling them. It felt good but I also winced from the pain. He was harsh, like he was in life.

We stopped by the door. I noticed that he had a trash bag waiting for him there.

He leaned towards me and his lips ghosted over mine. He gave my breasts one parting squeeze and said, “I’ll see you on Monday.”

Picking up his coat, he grabbed the trash bag and left.

Left me ruined.

Confused.

Scared.

And with a clean apartment.

For some reason, it never occurred to me to ask him back then how he knew where I lived?

#Not Another Hallmark Christmas Story #elriel #elain archeron #azriel #azriel and elain #pro elriel #elain #elain x azriel #acotar #elriel fanfic #Elriel fic #my writing

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