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lustspren · 1 month ago

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D.A | I Hate Everything About You.

Male reader x IVE's Wonyoung.

🔙 Previous update | 📄 I Hate Everything About You |

tags: HATE sex, rough sex, bdsm, daddy kink, squirt, overstimulation, really dirty facefuck, creampie, facial, degradation, dirty talk, kinda enemies to lovers ��

word count: 9.6k

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“Are you sure? One hundred percent?” you asked, sitting in your desk chair with the phone to your ear. You had finished a six-hour stream a few minutes ago.

“Of course!” Yujin replied from the other end of the line. “I already made sure the staff got you a room at our hotel. You have no excuse!”

You sighed, rolling your chair back and turning it to face the wall. Helios was sleeping on top of the bookshelf where you had all your action figures, next to a Blood Raven Space Marine.

“Yujin-ah, I’m serious, I don’t want to have any problems when I arrive,” you said. “Are you sure you don’t want me to pay for a room myself?”

The reason for the argument was that she, Liz, and Rei had invited you to see their performance at the Golden Wave in Tokyo. The idea had of course been born from Yujin, and her insistence left you no choice but to accept. But it still wasn’t that easy; you had to sort out some logistics first, as always.

“No! Don’t even think about it, Ezio!” Yujin said, in a tone you knew was best not to refute. “Just trust me. Has a tragedy ever happened because of that?”

“A year ago you made Rei and I believe that your manager wouldn’t find out you were spending the night with me after the concert, guess who got told off the next day?”

“But that wasn’t my fault!” she protested. “I had no way of knowing!”

“But it happened. I just answered your question.”

Yujin snorted, and you smiled. Getting on her nerves was pretty easy and fun.

“Are you going to accept my offer or not?”

“I have no choice, I guess,” you sighed, and turned back to your computer to push your chair forward. “I’ll buy the ticket right now.”

You heard Yujin exhale in relief as you searched for the airline’s website.

"The hotel is the Hyatt Regency. I think we'll get there around 2pm."

"Okay," you replied, scheduling the flight. "But I'll go the day before."

"Why?"

You sighed.

"I'd say it's for shopping, but I spent way too much on my two trips to Italy in the past two months. I need to get back on my feet."

"You went again?" Yujin asked. "I thought you already went to Rome in October with the NewJeans girls."

"I mean, that was a one-night binge," you finally bought the ticket and stood up, walking out of your office. "This, on the other hand, was a mini vacation."

"Mini vacation? Where, with who?" she asked again, as you headed straight to the kitchen to grab a drink and some leftover poke you had left in the fridge.

"Woah," you chuckled, going to sit at the dining table. "You sounded just like Nana. Scary."

"Hey! I have a right to know!"

"Yeah yeah, I'll tell you when I see you, it's a long story."

"Yeah, you better."

"Hey, I gotta go," you said, opening a can of Pepsi. "I'm going to eat and then I have a work meeting."

"Okay! See you in a few days then?"

"If nothing weird happens, yeah."

"Alright! Bye oppa!"

"Bye Yujinie."

Yujin hung up, and as you ate your poke you checked your text messages. You had from Sohyun, from Hanni, and of course, from Nana.

Nana was honestly amazing. She could just ask that from the first text, but no, she loved it and begged for your attention. Incredibly, it was like that from the first day you met her, when she did that challenge with Sullyoon at the Music Core and she cast a spell on you that three months later you still couldn't shake.

You didn't even bother to answer her at that moment. You rushed to finish eating, fed the cats as well, and ran to take a shower to attend your meeting with Sony.

In the end, that trip to Tokyo turned out to be extremely productive. Sony executives had made it clear that a face-to-face meeting would be extremely necessary to discuss all the details about your collaboration, and by putting your trip to Japan on the table, it was easy to arrange a time and place.

Unfortunately, that meant you had to make a flight change in order to get to Japan as soon as possible, and from around 8 in the morning you were already in Tokyo on your way to the meeting. That was basically the whole day for you, since obviously, releasing a custom line of speakers was something that took quite a bit of work.

At around 8pm, after the meeting, lunch and a short walk, you arrived at the Hyatt Regency. But you found something strange. The lobby was strangely populated, and once you paid a little attention to your surroundings you could see dozens of people with cameras whose flashes went on every second.

As you tried to figure out why there were so many photographers, a hotel employee approached you with a friendly smile.

"Good evening, sir," the woman said, with a pretty thick accent. "Do you have a reservation?"

"Uh... yes," you nodded absentmindedly, trying to look over the heads, but it was no use. "Yes, ma'am." you finally looked at her.

"Follow me, please." she nodded and started walking.

You followed the woman to the reception. The check-in process was quite smooth; about five minutes later the hotel staff had already provided you with both your room card and instructions on all the benefits that came with the reservation and how to claim them.

With nothing else to do down there, you decided to go straight up to your room, as you were exhausted and urgently needed to lie down for a couple of hours. The crowd was still milling around where the event was being held, and curious you finally approached outside the security line as it was on your way.

You wished you hadn't seen what you saw over the heads of the photographers, because it immediately put you in a bad mood.

Jang Wonyoung, now an ambassador for Tommy Jeans, posed for the cameras as seemingly innocent as ever, with that face carved by the archangel Gabriel and that beautiful, slim body. She was probably one of the most gorgeous people you had ever seen, without a doubt.

And you really, really disliked her.

You couldn't stand her since before you personally met the IVE girls over a year ago, but from then on, you only confirmed that she was exactly the kind of person you could never be friends with. She was a pick me girl, self-centered, pretentious, and haughty. Four things you hated all in one person.

Of course, she couldn't stand you either. Every time you had interacted had resulted in tensions, many of which ended in an argument, and for some time now you had chosen to simply stay away from each other to avoid awkward situations with people who had nothing to do with you.

And there she was again, in a hilarious twist of fate. It seemed scripted just to make you look stupid.

But as always, you were just going to ignore her and go about your business. Nothing was going to happen as long as you two stayed away from each other. So you took a few steps back, turned around, and took the stairs to the first floor, then took the elevator to your room.

The first thing you did when you got there wasn't even unpacking, it was going straight to take a shower and then lay down on the bed to check your phone.

You ended up getting a little too wrapped up in watching TikTok and Twitter, because you didn't realize when two hours had passed, only when your eyes started to feel heavy and your body was already asking for some rest. And that was exactly what you were about to do.

Until you heard the room door open.

Instantly alarmed, you looked over your shoulder, ready to throw punches on whoever had forced the lock to get in.

But out of all your possible scenarios, none of them mentally prepared you for seeing Wonyoung walk out of the hallway and stop dead in her tracks. You immediately sat up, your brow furrowed in a combination of anger and confusion.

“Ahhh!” she screamed in fright, dropping her suitcase and handbag to the floor. Recognizing you, her eyes went from fear to anger. “What the fuck are you doing here?!” she asked, in perfect English with no trace of an accent.

Great, just what you fucking needed.

“I ask the same damn question,” you said incredulously, staring at her. “It’s my room.”

“No, it’s not!” she protested, and stepped forward to show you her key card.

“Look on the fucking nightstand and tell me what you see, please,” you retorted, pointing at it.

Wonyoung frowned and walked over to look at your key card. She then clenched her fists and stomped her foot.

“Oh my god!” she shrieked in frustration. “This has to be a fucking joke!”

She then turned her back on you and stormed off down the hall. You knew where she was headed, so you immediately followed her. You both headed straight to the lobby to demand an explanation.

“I’m sorry, but that’s how the reservation was made,” the receptionist told you, embarrassed by the unfortunate situation. “There’s nothing that can be done to change it.”

“At least I can pay for another room, right?” you asked, hopefully.

The woman smiled sheepishly and folded her hands across the desk, indicating to you that nothing good was about to come out of her mouth.

“I’m afraid all rooms are taken for the night, sir,” she said. “We only have the Atrium suite available.”

And with that, any hope was crushed. On another occasion you would have paid whatever, but right now you couldn't afford it.

Wonyoung, seized by rage, slammed her hand on the desk and went back the way you had come.

You looked at the receptionist, embarrassed by Wonyoung's bratty attitude.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," you sighed. "She's like that. Thank you very much, too."

"It's nothing, sir," she shook her head. "Sorry again for all this."

And with that, you set out to follow Wonyoung straight to the room, where you entered and slammed the door shut behind you. She immediately turned around and glared at you.

"Tonight was special for me!" she yelled at you. "Why the fuck did you have to show up and ruin everything?! Ugh!"

The moment she said that, you felt rage wash over your body like an uncontrollable tide of bubbling lava.

"Huh? Now it's my damn fault?!" you said, not yelling but with a louder tone than usual. "How the fuck was I supposed to know you were going to be here today?"

"You did it on purpose, you idiot! Surely Yujin told you!" she pointed at you, taking a step forward. "Why else would you be here today?!"

"For fucking work, woman," you replied, also taking a step towards her. "Why the fuck do you think I care enough about you to come here a day early?!"

"Because you hate me, Ezio, that's why!" she took another step towards you and gave you a nudge with her knuckles on your shoulder.

"So what?! You hate me too, you pretentious bitch!"

"I hate you because you hate me, you moron!" another step, now she was less than two feet away from you. "And I hate you because you always go around thinking you're better than everyone else!"

You couldn't help but let out an incredulous laugh.

"The donkey talking about damn ears!" you yelled.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!"

"That you're the first one to think you're better than everyone! Oh my god!" you growled, frustrated at her cynicism.

"Because I am actually prettier than everyone, asshole!"

Without realizing it, the two of you were now face to face, but you were so furious that you didn't think to step back.

"See? That's your fucking problem and you don't even realize it!"

"So you hate me for being pretty?" she said with a laugh, raising both eyebrows. "Are you fucking retarded or what?!"

"Huh?" you grimaced. "I hate you because you're a fucking pick me bitch and you do nothing but draw all the attention to yourself on purpose!"

"So fucking what?!" she yelled again, so close to your face that you could feel her breathing. "Are you going to cry about it?!"

She continued yelling at you, between insults and rhetorical questions that you didn't hear. For some reason, you took advantage of that moment to scrutinize every detail of her pretty doll-like face, from those bright, round eyes, to her small nose, to her little moles, and finally, those pretty, full lips, which, in an impulse that came from the depths of your heart and you didn't quite know why, you kissed.

Wonyoung accepted your lips with a slight start, but immediately resisted by hitting your chest several times until you moved away with your hands on her waist.

"Hey! What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" She pushed you away and then gave you a stinging slap. "If you think you can kiss me first, you're so damn wrong!" She grabbed your face with both hands. "Because as a princess, that honor belongs to me!"

And then, in a move you definitely didn't expect, she kissed you.

There was something that felt strangely liberating about that kiss. It didn't feel weird like you thought it would, and the best way you could describe it was like accidentally getting something you didn't know you needed. That satisfaction was directly reflected in how your lips danced fiercely against each other, your heads constantly tilting from side to side.

You couldn't believe you were kissing Jang Wonyoung, possibly the only idol that you automatically got upset about when you saw her. For some reason you were enjoying it, maybe too much, and you couldn't blame yourself for it, she was a whole fucking beauty of a girl after all.

"I've always wanted you, you fucking idiot," she muttered mid-kiss, both hands tightly gripping the hair on the back of your neck. "You're exactly my fucking type. Ashole, fucking ashole."

That only made the anger in you come out again. But it made a revelation come to your mind, so clear that it made you feel stupid for not having had it before.

"I've wanted you too, from the first fucking day," you muttered back, your hands gripping her small waist. "Why do you have to be such a fucking bitch?"

"And you're a bitter fucker," she muttered, lowering a hand to your cock to squeeze it angrily over your sweatpants. "A bitter fucker who makes my pussy drip and doesn't notice."

"That's all your damn fault, woman," you replied, pulling away from her lips to kiss the side of her face and then the right side of her neck. You heard her moan. "Your attitude is a fucking turn off for me."

As you peppered that side of her neck with wet kisses and your hands tightened on her ass, she continued to knead your cock until it was hard.

"Are you so retarded that you couldn't spot the damn signs?" she asked between gasps, shoving her hands under your sweater and then pulling it off. "Fuck, you're even stupider than I thought."

"And what were the signs, huh?" You bit her neck, teeth marking the skin. You also slid your hands under her white sweater and pulled it off in an instant. "Looking at me like I'm a piece of shit? Trying to trample me every time I talk?"

"It doesn't matter anymore, Ezio," she gasped, and grabbed onto your hair again as you peppered her collarbone and the center of your chest with kisses. "God, I'm fucking sick and tired of you. I need you to use me like your fucking sex doll."

Wonyoung grabbed you by the waist, turned you around, and pushed you down so you were sitting on the bottom edge of the bed. She then took off her bra, revealing a pair of modest but bigger than you imagined tits, and then she got rid of her denim skirt, which fell to the floor to reveal her white panties.

"It's not enough for you to be a pick me bitch, but now you're a fucking slut too?" you asked, looking at her slim, tight body, as she kicked off her boots.

"Shut the fuck up, asshole," she muttered through gritted teeth, and straddled your lap with her hands on your shoulders to crash her lips against yours again.

She began to grind her hips back and forth, with intense, deep movements. You brought your hands to her small waist and then to her small ass, which you squeezed with your fingers before giving her a hard spank that reverberated throughout the room.

Wonyoung moaned and sank her teeth into your bottom lip.

"Mmm fuck yeah daddy," she growled, looking into your eyes. "Again."

You gave her another equally hard spank on the other cheek. She moaned again, grabbed your hair and pulled your head back to dive into your neck with kisses.

"Mmm, you're so fucking sexy, fuck," she gasped, and bit your neck. "Will you do the same fucking me against the wall?"

"I will when you suck my fucking cock, bitch," you replied, giving her another smack that made her moan between kisses.

"Oh yeah?" She lifted her head to look you straight in the eyes. "Then make me, fucker."

You pushed her off you and stood up, grabbing her hair in a rough grip and pulling her off the bed. Wonyoung bit her lip and moaned, falling to her knees in front of you. If that was a challenge, you were more than happy to take it.

"Open your fucking mouth," you said as you quickly pulled down your sweatpants and boxers, releasing your hard cock onto her face.

Wonyoung instantly complied and opened her mouth, tongue sticking out. You then grabbed your cock and buried it inside her mouth. She caught you between her lips, and you grabbed her hair again to move her head along every inch of your shaft, fast and hard.

She let you guide her however you wanted, just being a good girl and sucking every inch of the piece of meat that went in and out of her mouth with those cute, full lips. Thanks to this, the blowjob got sloppy within seconds, as you made her pump her head at a frantic pace.

"Yeah bitch, now choke on that cock," you said, and grabbed another handful of her hair with your free hand to push her head all the way down your shaft.

Wonyoung took the tip of your cock into her throat with gags that made saliva spill out of her mouth. You could tell she was struggling, but from the way she looked at you with dilated pupils and slightly arched eyebrows, you could also tell it made her extra horny.

You let her breathe a couple seconds later. She moaned and bit her lip, jerking you off with tightly clenched fingers.

"Oh god, fuck my face and don't hold back daddy," she told you, her lips spit stained and her eyes glassy. "Or are you a fucking pathetic weakling?"

Your only response to that was to give in to your impulses and give her a slap, exactly like the one she had given you a few minutes ago. She gasped in surprise, but turned her face again almost immediately to open her mouth and stick out her tongue.

"So you like that huh?" you asked, giving her another hard slap on the same side of the face, to which she responded with a moan. "You gonna let me use you as a cum dump, bitch?"

"Any hole you want as long as you do it dirty and not like a fucking pussy," she said, and hit your cock against her tongue.

"Oh don't worry, you can count on that," you replied, and then you grabbed your cock and took it inside Wony's mouth, all the way to the bottom.

This time, it was up to you to control the situation. You started to move your hips hard, fast, with too much pent-up rage being released. Wonyoung stayed still for the first few seconds, hands on her thighs and tongue out as your cock hit her throat over and over again. But as the saliva built up in her mouth and she had a harder time keeping up with that pace, she brought her hands up over your knees to dig her nails into your skin.

"You like it this dirty? Huh?" you growled, watching as you turned that gorgeous doll face of hers into a complete mess, clutching two handfuls of her hair like handles. "Put that fucking throat to work, slut."

You kept thrusting again and again, until you let go of both handfuls of her hair to bring one hand to her neck and the other to the top of her head, and with that push her back so that her neck was bent against the edge of the bed. Then you raised one foot to the matress, pressed her into it and fucked her throat up and down.

Now, Wony was not only gagged, but she was also coughing and choking on her own saliva. You were pushing her beyond her limits, you knew that, but you certainly didn't care and neither did she. Her eyes were still on you, tears spilling out of them; her hands, now clinging to your thighs with trembling fingers and nails well dug into your skin.

After a few seconds you felt close to your climax, so you quickly pulled out Wony's mouth and gave her another slap on the other side of the face.

"Now finish me, bitch," you hissed.

Wony moaned and pushed herself off the mattress to grab your cock soaked in her own saliva, press the tip against her tongue and jerk you off at a speed surprising for such a thin wrist. Just an instant later you exploded with moans, shooting jet after jet of cum onto her tongue.

"Oh fuck yeah," you growled with a hand on her head.

She caught you between her lips and pumped her head along your shaft, letting you unload inside her mouth and at the same time slurping all the saliva off your cock. When you had left your entire load inside her and your cock stopped throbbing, she pulled you out and stuck her tongue out. Nothing on it.

"See daddy? I'm a good slut," she moaned, and slapped the back of your shaft against her tongue. Her face was still a mess, her cheeks streaked with tears and both her lips and chin stained with saliva. “Don’t I deserve a reward?”

You grabbed her hair, pulled it back, and moved within inches of her face.

“I’ll decide when you deserve a fucking reward,” you said, and spat out a good amount of saliva that you had accumulated on her face. “Do you understand that?”

“God, just fuck me and destroy my pussy, Ezio,” she whimpered, reaching a hand inside her panties to touch herself. “I’ve been waiting for over a fucking year.”

“Too bad for you,” your lips curved into a small, wicked smile before giving her a small kiss. “The wait would have been shorter if you hadn’t been such a fucking despicable bitch this whole time.”

“Ugh you’re such a fucking bastard!” she squealed, and you pulled her up to her feet.

"A fucking bastard who's got your pussy dripping wet," you said, replacing her hand with yours inside her panties. She wrapped her arms around your neck and clung to you.

"And also a fucking cute bastard who I'd kiss all night if I didn't want to punch him in the face," she managed to say between moans, while you kissed the left side of her neck and rubbed your fingers up and down her slit.

"Then do it, bitch," you growled, and raised your face to look into her eyes. "You don't have the fucking nerve."

Wony untangled one of her arms from around your neck and slapped you, which met the standard of intensity you'd been carrying so far.

"And ruin that gorgeous face of yours?" She bit your bottom lip, and then slapped you again, harder. "I would never dare. But seeing it marked in red by my hand is sexy."

With a growl of frustration at how stupidly insane she was, you wrapped your free arm around her waist, joined your lips with hers, and walked with her to the opposite side of the room, where there was a built-in worktop with a wooden desk; you sat her on it and spread her legs wide.

"I'm sorry, but your fucking panties bother me," you said against her lips, and in a small display of savagery, you ripped them from her crotch and let the shreds fall to the floor. Then your hand returned to her slit. "Hmm, what should I do with this nice wet pussy?"

"Eat it? Fuck it and fill it?" she asked, and kissed your chin as you rubbed her clit in circles. "I don't fucking know, god, at this point do whatever you want with me daddy."

"That's an excellent answer," you smiled, and slowly brought two fingers inside her. Wony held onto your shoulders and stifled a moan against her pursed lips. "Is the despicable bitch in you wearing off?"

"Fuck you, motherfucker," she hissed, and leaned forward to bite your jaw as your fingers sank completely inside her pussy. "You're lucky you drive me crazy."

"Oh yeah?" you murmured, pumping your wrist in a steady, hard rhythm.

Wony took a moment to lean her head against the TV behind her and arch her back, melting under the steady, increasingly faster pumping of your fingers, which made her pussy fill the room with wet sounds. A few seconds later she was able to open her eyes and look at you between adorable moans.

"Yes daddy," she nodded between moans. "You drive me fucking insane, and I fucking hate you because you're not mine."

You snaked an arm behind her lower waist and held her close, now fingering her as fast as you could. She gripped the sides of your neck with her hands, and held your gaze as she gave in to the pleasure.

"I thought it was because I think I'm better than everyone," you said, raising an eyebrow.

Wony rolled her eyes back and bit her lip. From the way her fingers tightened on your neck you could tell you were taking her downhill.

"Yeah, and that's so fucking hot," she gasped, her face becoming more twisted and flushed. "But I also hate other fucking bitches touching you, mmmgh!" She arched her back, pressing her sexy abdomen against your newly hard cock. "If I could lock you in my fucking room to have you all to myself I would do it without a fucking doubt!"

Those were her last words before she hugged your neck and came around your fingers. Her face as she writhed in ecstasy and moaned like a princess was like watching Turandot in the front row; a mesmerizing work of art that was burned into your memory from the first moment. A fucking beauty, like very few you had ever seen in your life.

For which you still felt an incalculable amount of rage.

"You're not ready yet, bitch," you hissed, fingering her just as fast through her orgasm and making her squirm desperately. "Cum again damn it."

"Ugh just fuck me you fucking piece of shit!" she whimpered, and she slammed a closed fist into your chest as her hips shook. "Fuck fuck fuck!!"

Despite her complaints, your commands sank into her body and made her react against her will. It wasn't even ten seconds after her orgasm passed until another followed, making her shake and you double-duty to keep her from knocking the TV over. With another girl that would have been enough, but you weren't sated yet.

"Please Ezio, please!" she whimpered with tear-filled eyes, and she put a hand on your head to hold onto your hair as you continued to move your wrist as if nothing had happened. "You can do the same with your cock inside me! Please!"

"I don't care," you growled, beads of sweat falling down both sides of your temple. "Shut the fuck up and cum. Cum, bitch, cum!"

"Mmmgh!! Fuuuuckk!" she screamed, pulling your hair and hitting you several times in the chest before cumming again, and now with an added surprise.

You finally pulled your fingers out of Wony's pussy when she squirted and made a complete mess, wetting part of your arm and the floor beneath your feet. The way she writhed was absurdly sexy, and you took a step back just to admire her in detail, noticing how her legs couldn't stop shaking and her mouth remained half-open, paralyzed.

"Now you deserve a reward," you said between gasps of exhaustion, your wrist feeling like it was going to melt, and you walked over to her again to wrap your arms around her waist and pull her down from the counter.

"You're a fucking insufferable son of a bitch," Wony said, and gave you another punch to the chest as you carried her up with one arm to the back of the room, where there was a single chair, a small circular table, and a double couch that you sat on.

“And?” You raised an eyebrow, and pulled her by the hand so she straddled you. Wony cupped your face in her hands, and now her touch felt so delicate that it sent shivers down your spine.

“And I won’t let you out of this room until you’ve made me cum at least four more times,” she said before kissing you again.

Wony wrapped her arms around your neck, and you wrapped yours around her small waist. You ran your hands over every corner of her back, and then down to her surprisingly round and firm ass to grope it. The back of your cock was pressed between her folds, and at the feel of it, Wony ground her hips slowly to rub your crotches together.

You pulled away from her lips to move down and kiss her collarbone, now letting yourself drift towards her small, pretty tits to suck, lick, and eat them in every way possible. Wony moaned into your ear, the lobe of which she bit on before she made you look at her.

“I’d love to ride you, daddy,” she made a cute pout. “But you’ve already exhausted me for that.”

“Can you at least stand up?” you said, both hands on her thighs.

“I think so.” she nodded. “For now.”

Perfect. Because you had something in mind since you saw her naked in the first place.

You stood up from the couch with her in your arms and carried her to the left, towards where the window was. You pulled the curtains wide open, revealing the bright nightscape of Tokyo. Wony was smart enough to lower herself, turn around and rest her hands on the glass, her pretty face now illuminated by the lights of the buildings as she bent over for you.

“You’re a good fucking girl huh?” you said behind her, hands on her waist before spanking her. Wony squealed and looked at you over her shoulder.

“I’m a good fucking girl for daddy,” she nodded. “Do I deserve my reward already?”

You gave her another smack on the other cheek, both now with bright red marks on the skin.

“Shut up, you impatient whore,” you said, and pulled her by the neck towards you, speaking in her ear. “I’ll make you perform in a wheelchair tomorrow.”

Her lips curved into a mischievous smile.

“You’d do me a big favor,” she said, and licked you from your chin to the tip of your nose.

Unwilling to continue playing with her for the sake of both of you, you spit on your cock, picked it up, and brought it between her ass cheeks. Wony held your gaze, and you watched her face twist closely as you slowly sank into her suffocatingly tight pussy.

“Oh god, keep going,” she moaned with her eyes on you as half of your shaft was inside her. “Put it all inside me daddy.”

The words got stuck in your throat as you pushed forward and every inch of your cock was inside what was possibly the tightest pussy you were ever going to experience in your whole life. You tried to say something, but all you ended up doing was kissing her and stifling a satisfied moan against her lips.

Wony, clinging to your forearm and your hand on her neck, let you take control of the kiss and use your tongue as much as you wanted as you began to move back and forth. You made sure every inch of throbbing flesh went in and out of her slim body, and she was forced to part from your lips to try and take in everything she was feeling at that moment.

“You’re bulging my fucking belly oh my god,” she moaned, giving you little kisses on the side of your face.

You placed the hand you had on her waist on her lower abdomen to check, and sure enough, you could feel your tip bulge against her skin every time you pumped forward. That wasn't something new for you, but doing it to her gave you an extra boost of horniness, and if before you were determined to leave her crippled for a whole day, now it was your damn life mission.

"Come on slut, let all of Tokyo watch you being fucking railed," you panted in her ear, and put a hand on the back of her neck to press her face against the glass.

Wony rested her hands on the glass and looked at you out of the corner of her eye, face pressed against the window. You brought one hand to the back of her head and grabbed a good handful of shiny brown hair, while the other hand was left on her waist. Now you fucked her hard, fast, letting the rage in you flow just like when you fucked her throat.

"Does my cock satisfy you enough?" you asked between gasps, watching as it disappeared between her ass cheeks with each thrust. "Or are you going to complain about it like the fucking spoiled brat you are?"

"Why?" she asked, and managed a cocky smile despite being absolutely railed. "Are you gonna cry to that little whore Hanni Pham if I hurt your feelings?"

Oh hell nah. That was hitting a very, very soft spot for you, and she knew it. Hats off to her. It was an easy way to piss you off, and since you were completely done avoiding giving her what she wanted at this point, you gave her the victory and started to unload spanks, one after another, with your palm wide open and as hard as you could.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck! Yes!" Wony moaned with each spank, staring at you. "Harder, motherfucker, harder!!"

You didn't know if you could do it 'harder' than you were already doing, but you still made a little extra effort. By the time your arm tired, Wony's buttocks looked like two freshly picked cherries and her legs were wobbly in an attempt to stay upright.

"Like that?! Huh?!" you hissed, and grabbed her hair into a ponytail to pull her towards you.

"Yes!! Just like fucking that daddy, fuck!" she replied between unbridled whimpers, with nowhere else to look but the city. "Oh my god I'm going to cum, keep going, keep going!!"

Not even a minute passed when her words came true. Wony came in a tide of attacking spasms that threatened to make her fall to the floor if it weren't for the fact that you held her tightly and she pushed her hips back, preventing you from moving until her orgasm passed.

But almost instantly after she relaxed her body, you regained control and put a hand on the back of her head to push her against the glass with a downright dangerous blow. She only moaned in a mix of pleasure and pain, her mouth half open and her brow furrowed as you fucked her like an animal again.

"Fill me daddy, please!" She pleaded, miraculously still standing even though her pretty long legs looked like they were about to fall apart. “I can’t feel my damn legs anymore!”

“Oh yeah? I’m fucking glad.”

You pulled her hair again, this time to wrap your arms around her body and hold her against you, one hand tightening on her neck and the other on her pussy to rub in quick circles. Wony squealed and dropped her head to rest on your left shoulder, exposing her neck for you to kiss, suck and bite until she came again.

“For the love of fucking god fill my pussy already!!” she screamed in the middle of her climax, voice raspy from the grip of your fingers on her throat. “Please daddy!”

You didn’t wait for her second orgasm to pass before you turned around with her and walked her to the bed, where you threw her down with a rough push. Wony fell face down, and you quickly positioned yourself above her with your knees on either side of her hips. You brought your cock inside her again, and dropped forward to rest your forearms on either side of her head.

Wony quickly sought out your lips, and you accepted them as you pumped your hips up and down. You then wrapped one of your arms around her neck, and swirled your tongues together with moans from both sides.

When you felt your climax approaching, you let go of her neck and lifted your body, grabbing a handful of Wony's hair and pushing her head against the mattress, causing her hair to cover part of her sweaty face. The other hand went to the back of her neck, where you gripped your fingers before fiercely fucking her pussy against the mattress.

"Cum daddy..." she managed to say between pretty whimpers and the little breath you left her with each thrust. "I told you I'd be your cum dump, well fucking use me."

Coming from her, you didn't expect those words to sink into your bones as much as they did at that very moment, greatly accelerating your climax and making your body work on its own. It was such a magnitude of the damn spell, that you didn't even realize you'd cum until Wony began to moan in satisfaction.

"Oh fuck yes!" she growled, and bit the sheets beneath her as you filled her tight little pussy with deep thrusts. "It feels so warm, god. Are you sure you don't want to be mine alone?"

Still panting and not fully taking in how good it felt to cum inside her, you raised an eyebrow at that last bit.

"Why, are you going to drug me with chloroform and kidnap me if I refuse?" you asked, and removed your hand from her head and neck to let yourself fall forward and pepper her jaw with kisses.

"It won't be necessary," Wony replied, and turned her face to kiss you in a way so cute it seemed unlike her. "Because I highly doubt you'll refuse anytime soon."

Once you dumped all of your load inside her, you pulled out and laid on your side next to her.

"If you stop being a spoiled bitch, maybe," you said, pulling her on top of you to wrap your arms around her body and kiss her. You felt your own cum drip down to your thigh from her pussy.

Wony cupped your face in her pretty hands and gently ran one through your hair before pulling away from your lips.

"That's like asking me to stop breathing," she said with an innocent smirk, and she pushed herself off you to turn around and bend over your thigh, sticking her tongue out and licking up the little pool of cum that had spilled from inside of her.

After cleaning up the little mess she'd made on your leg, the only thing left to do was your cock, which she grabbed by the base and took straight into her mouth. You were still a little sensitive, but of course she didn't give a damn about this, she slurped up every inch of flesh without caring how you felt. Within seconds, however, you could appreciate how amazing she was at giving head, and how good her plump lips felt running up and down your shaft.

Her pretty ass, full of bright red marks on each butt cheek, was to the side of your face; you groped it, with gentle squeezes and caresses so as not to make the marks of your hands on her skin sting. You were taking care of her indirectly, and when you realized it, you quickly gave her a spank to make up for it. Wony moaned as she pumped her head and turned to look at you.

“Mmm, you still have some for me right?” she asked after pulling you out of her mouth, and placed wet kisses around your tip. “Yujin told me you can cum up to four times before you get tired.”

“I definitely have more for you,” you replied. “But that bitch lied to you.”

Not really. But that night had been special since Yujin looked absurdly hot in that tight black leather outfit.

“Three then?”

“Three,” you nodded. “And I know exactly what to do with the third bullet so get up here.”

“I told you I can barely feel my legs, Ezio, are you fucking deaf or what?” she raised an eyebrow as she straddled your abdomen.

"You won't have to use them, dumbass, and turn around," you motioned with your finger.

Wony frowned in confusion and complied with the order. You noticed that she genuinely had trouble lifting her legs, so you had to give her a small hand. When she was finally sitting with her back to you, you pulled her hair so that she was lying with her back pressed to your chest, and you grabbed her legs behind her knees to lift them up and pull them towards you in a full nelson position.

"Put it inside you, slut," you said, as you had your arms busy holding her legs.

She reached between her legs and grabbed your cock to take it inside her pussy herself. Wony delighted you again with a cute moan, as you held her head, planted your feet on the mattress and began to move your hips up and down, quickly picking up the pace until you were eventually drilling her pussy.

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!!” Wony screamed, so loud it seemed like she would tear her throat out. “Motherfucker you’re destroying my cervix oh my god!!”

Along with her moans, the room echoed with the deafening sound of her body being nearly torn in half by your animalistic and careless thrusts. In the end, your promise about making her perform on a wheelchair was going to come true. Pretty reckless on your part honestly. In fact, you were afraid of what might happen to you if her manager found out the real reason for her inability to dance.

But there were hundreds of possible excuses. Besides, it was common for some idols to perform sitting on a chair when they had physical problems, right? Wony was pretty enough to attract attention anyway; she didn’t have too much to worry about, and certainly neither did you. That was why you were going all in, no holds barred when it came to giving her a fuck she would remember for the rest of her life.

"Yes daddy fuck yes!!" Wony moaned with her head hanging back, clinging to your forearms and with her hair—which by the way had a delicious vanilla and jasmine scent—covering your face. "It feels so goooood!!!

After that scream to the ceiling Wony came again on your cock, and you felt the muscles in her thighs contract and tremble under your fingers. You let go of her legs and wrapped your arms around her torso. She was again lying against your chest, and you kissed her neck as she moaned in your ear.

"Don't you dare stop you fucking asshole," she managed to gasp in your ear, even though her legs were still shaking. "If you don't make me cum at least two more times I'll have to tell your slut girlfriend that you're such a lame fuck."

And there she went again, like the fucking despicable bitch she was, mentioning the most important person in your life right now to add fuel to the fire. Luckily for her, you were quite susceptible to provocation at the moment, so you immediately pulled out of her, pushed her off you, and got on top of her. Wony was still obviously unable to move her legs on her own, so you grabbed them again, spread them wide, and pushed them back before thrusting back into her. You then leaned forward to look into her eyes, holding her legs with your torso.

"Keep my girl's name out of your fucking mouth, bitch," you hissed, and began fucking her again.

"Or-what?" Wony asked, panting, jerking back and forth from your thrusts. "I can say whatever the f..."

You cut her off with a slap.

"What was that?" You asked, thrusting fast and deep. “I didn’t hear you, bitch.”

“I said… Mmmgh!” another slap on the same side of her face from you. “Fuck!”

As you watched her cheekbone redden, you brought your hand to her long neck and tightened your fingers there. Wony tried to say something else, but the sound came out barely in a raspy whisper. She then closed her eyes, opened her mouth in a permanent O shape and frowned in a sexy display of pleasure.

“So you like that huh?” you said, straightening your back a little to add pressure to her neck. “Who knew you’d be such a S&M slut.”

Another attempt to speak from her, and only a weak cough. Seconds later she squeezed her eyes shut and raised her hips. The way she pursed her lips and began to squirm were indicative that she had come again, but you didn't stop, instead you switched the hand on her neck to the left, and used the right one to slap her again.

Wony opened her eyes now teary to look at you with arched eyebrows. You looked down, intending to admire how your cock bulged that tight belly every time it went inside. The hot and lascivious scene triggered all your senses, and made you turn on the overdrive so that in a sudden burst of energy, you gave her the most aggressive thrusts of the night.

"Now you're not saying shit, are you?" you gritted your teeth, and added another hand to her neck to squeeze it harder. "Wanna say something bitch? You fucking can't because you're a fucking masochistic whore."

You leaned towards her and spit in her open mouth. Wony closed her eyes again, and you felt her try to scream from the depths of her throat in vain as she came again. You didn't stop. More thrusts as she squirmed, and your persistence only made her cum one last time. By then, her pussy was so tight and felt so good around your cock that you felt your own climax just around the corner.

Wony was finally able to breathe properly as you let go of her neck and pulled off your cock. She opened her eyes and looked up at you as you straddled her chest, and despite breathing like she was on the line of life and death, she raised her neck and presented her cute little face to you; seconds later, you were turning her into a beautiful painting worthy of Tintoretto himself.

Every corner of her face was being covered in cum, with most of the spurts landing around her nose, under her eyes, and on her beautiful lips. By the time you finished draining yourself, you fell to the side and lay on your back, breathing heavily. That had definitely been your last bullet. But that only made you think like a normal person again.

What the fuck had you done?

Turning to look at Wony you could tell she was asking herself the exact same question. You expected her to make one of her usual comments, but she didn't say anything, she just stared at the ceiling with her face covered in cum and her chest rising and falling. Fuck, you had lost count of how many times you had made her cum. That girl was sure not going to be able to dance tomorrow.

You sat up after a couple minutes and looked into each other's eyes.

"Uh... I'll get some toilet paper," you said.

"Yeah… sure," she nodded.

Silence reigned in the room as you went to the bathroom to grab a roll of toilet paper and returned to Wony. It was a rather tedious cleaning session, since you had left several places in the room dirty. Of course you had to start with her face, then you went to the TV area and finally near the window. Needless to say, all the work had fallen on you, since Wony couldn't stand up. You even helped her put on her panties and gave her one of your oversized t-shirts so you wouldn't have to snoop through her things.

By the time you were done you were dressed again too, in sport shorts and a hoodie. Wony had made herself comfortable under the blanket already, on the left side of the bed, but you didn't join her, instead you went to the couch and made yourself comfortable there in the most awkward way possible.

"What the hell are you doing?" you heard Wony ask you, as you were already curled into the fetal position (the only possible position in that space).

"I know you don't want to sleep with me," you said, pulling the hood of your hoodie up and closing your eyes. "And frankly I don't either."

There were a few long seconds of silence.

"Ezio, don't be a fucking idiot and come here," she finally said. "The bed is big enough for both of us."

"Why do you suddenly care?" you asked. "Anyone would think you'd be too self-centered to even share a bed."

You heard her growl in frustration.

"Do you want to wake up with a bad back?" she asked. "Get in bed right now!"

As much as it stung, you had to accept that order for the sake of your back and your comfort, since that damn couch was certainly not suitable for sleeping under any circumstances. With a huff, you stood up and went to the bed, where you crawled under the covers next to her but leaving a good gap between you.

"The blanket isn't that big, so I hope you're not a restless sleeper," you told her, turning your back to her.

"I'm not," Wony replied from the other side of the bed. "And even if I was, I'm a fucking cripple right now."

"Good," you said, closing your eyes again. "Good night."

"Good night," she repeated.

The next morning you felt particularly comfortable and warm when you regained consciousness. What had woken you up was the sunlight, filtering freely through the window whose curtains you had left wide open. You slowly opened your eyes, expecting to see Wony at the other end of the bed.

But she was in your arms, curled up against your chest and hugging you. Even your legs were intertwined. You immediately frowned, wondering how the hell that had happened and searching through your memory.

When the memories came back to you, everything was much easier to decipher. She and you, at some point in the early morning and for some reason, sleepy, moved around the bed looking for each other. First Wony had hugged you from behind, and when you turned around, you were the one who was the big spoon. Finally, she had turned around and curled up against you, the position you were still in until that moment.

You didn't see it appropriate to wake her up, so you just waited as long as necessary, completely still and lost in your thoughts. Wony woke up around twenty minutes later, yawning and rubbing her eyes, and upon noticing the situation you were in, she froze.

"Uhm... Ezio, what are we doing?" she asked with her hands on your chest, looking into your eyes.

"I... I don't know," you replied, still hugging her. "I honestly don't know."

Again, silence. But it wasn't an awkward silence, as you were unable to feel that tension that was always between you again. Rather, you felt the purest calm.

"At least you slept well?" you asked, looking back into her eyes.

She nodded softly.

"Perfectly," she replied, lost in your eyes. "Better than ever, honestly, and you?"

"Comfortable, very comfortable," you replied back, also lost in her gaze.

Both of your gazes then shifted to a single possible place. You looked at her lips, which were just inches away from yours. She looked back at yours, and with a quick glance into her eyes, it was easy to understand that you both wanted it. So you finally kissed.

This time you were able to properly enjoy Wony's lips, in a slow, careful kiss that was totally in contrast to what had happened last night. Wony cupped your face with her gentle hands, and you held her waist with one hand while caressing her shoulder with the other. You completely lost track of time as you kissed, but you were sure that a while had passed by the time you pulled away.

"Ezio... I'm sorry," she said against your lips.

"Why?"

She looked into your eyes.

"Because of everything we've been through," she replied. "I'm... not really like that."

"Huh?" you frowned. "But yesterday you said that..."

"I was just playing along, fool," she nudged you affectionately with her hand on your chest. "I've never hated you, but you know... you do me, and I apologize for that."

"Jang Wonyoung, you've been acting like a bitch ever since I met you and now you come to tell me that you're not really like that?"

"It's the attitude I learned to have in order to survive this shitty industry," she looked down. "You can't act fragile and naive, Ezio... Everyone has their own method to deal with media pressure and competition. It works for me to believe I'm better than everyone else, even though I know I'm not."

"But..."

"It's true that over time I didn't tolerate you for being such an insufferable whiner about my personality, but I never hated you."

"Last night you almost had security kick me out of the room when you found me here."

"Because I hated to think that after such a nice night I'd have to deal with your hatred for me," she said, still looking down as she scribbled on your chest with her finger. "And that shit stresses me out."

"So..." you looked at her in silence.

Wony finally looked up to meet your eyes.

"You've been hating just a disguise all this time," she replied. "I'll explain anything you want, really."

"No... you don't have to explain anything right now, but I'll think of questions to ask you," you said, somewhat flabbergasted. "Actually, I have a good one: what's the real you like, then?"

She gave you a cute smirk.

"You can find that out for yourself, honey," she replied, and grabbed your hoodie to pull you into another kiss.

You kissed back gladly, but you felt like the biggest idiot for being such a dick for so long. How the fuck could you not hate her? You never really talked to her, and you never gave her the chance to get close to you in a friendly way either because you always repelled her with your obvious dislike for her. Plus, it only made you realize something else.

She was one of the most gorgeous human beings you knew, and on top of that she was actually a sweet and kind person? Oh my god. Fuck no.

As the minutes passed, you broke the kiss, and you found yourself caressing her face with one of your thumbs.

"Do you want me to order us breakfast?" you asked against her lips, giving them small kisses.

"I'd love that," she nodded. "And watch something on TV together?"

You couldn't help but smile, but you cursed in your head.

Karma was a fucking bitch. A cruel one.

—————————–

As always. Thanks for reading! MASTERLIST HERE!

#wonyoung smut #ive smut #izone smut #kpop smut #smut fanfic #x male reader smut #male reader smut

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hauntedhowlett-writes · 2 months ago

Text

ANIMAL INSTINCT

PAIRING: logan howlett x vampire mutant!female reader

RATING: explicit | WORD COUNT: 2.3k

SUMMARY:

after helping you out by letting you feed from him, logan asks you to return the favor.

part two of bloodthirsty

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

thank you for all the love on bloodthirsty! here’s a nice and smutty second part. big thank you to @guiltyasdave for reading this over for me 💕

TAGS/WARNINGS:

explicit sexual content (18+ mdni), x-men (2000) logan howlett, able bodied reader, vampire mutant!reader, no use of y/n, single POV - reader, primal play (chase/capture), gratuitous use of growling/roaring, light fighting, mentions of blood, biting, rough sex, semi-public sex (in the woods), oral - f receiving, unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms, creampie, dirty talk, blade play (the claws come out).

Logan finds you in an empty hallway one afternoon, about two weeks after your encounter in the kitchen. You made the mistake of making eye contact, leaving you unable to turn and pretend you didn't see him like you've been doing since that night.

"You avoiding me or something?" he says, hint of a smile on his lips.

"No," you reply quickly. "What makes you think that?"

"Haven't seen you around much lately."

"Just busy."

"Right." He looks away for a moment, hands on his hips. "Look, I got a proposition for you."

"I don't--"

"I got this issue--," he continues, ignoring your response "--where it gets to be too much, you know? And I helped you out so--"

"What are you talking about?" you interrupt.

His voice drops a bit lower. "We're predators, right? And I don't know about you but sometimes my prey drive can be...too much, if you catch my drift."

"Okay..."

"And I got two words for you - quid pro quo."

You blink at him. "Logan, that's three words."

"I thought pro quo was one word."

"Why would you think that?"

"We're getting off topic," he says, waving his hands. “Think you can help a guy out?"

"Help you...how, exactly?"

You agree to meet Logan at the edge of the dense forest that surrounds the X Mansion at nightfall and as you walk through the grounds blanketed in darkness, your senses begin to feel more alive. Anticipation courses through you and the further you venture from the mansion, the darker the night becomes.

Logan is already there when you arrive, tension rolling off of him in waves. He gives you a tight smile.

"Took you long enough," he says. You roll your eyes.

"I'm still here, aren't I?" You gesture to the forest. "So, what now?"

"You run," Logan replies. "I hunt."

The deep timbre of his voice sends a shiver down your spine. What he's asking for goes against your nature but some deep part of you is eager to please.

You take off through the trees, running as fast as your legs will carry you across the soft forest floor. With your enhanced speed, it's not long before you're miles from the manicured mansion grounds, surrounded by gnarled roots and a thick canopy of leaves that blocks nearly all light from the moon.

You slow to a stop, catching your breath. The snap of a branch is the only warning you get before Logan's heavy weight barrels into you, sending you both tumbling to the ground with him coming out on top, smiling down at you, a wild glint to his eyes.

"Gotta do better than that, bub," he says. He stands up, holding a hand out to help you to your feet. "I'll give you a head start this time."

"I don't need a head start," you grumble. "I'm faster than you."

He laughs. "We'll see about that."

You start running, his laughter ringing in your ears. Your path is less direct this time, weaving through the trees and doubling back to leave your scent in more places and crossing a small creek with the hopes that the running water helps to cover your tracks. You grow comfortable enough in your lead that you begin to slow down, keeping yourself attuned to the sounds of the forest and any changes that might indicate Logan has found you.

The trees break into a vast clearing, tall grass swaying in the breeze. Moonlight trickles past the branches, stripes of faint light illuminating the floor. You take a moment to appreciate the tranquility of it, but the calm is short lived when you catch movement at the corner of your eye.

Logan steps through the trees. He's removed his shirt, thick muscle glimmering with sweat, his chest heaving with labored breath. Your mouth goes dry at the sight and for a moment you really do understand what it's like to be prey, faced with something so deadly it's almost hypnotizing, impossible to look away even when you’re in danger. He stalks closer and you feel frozen in place, unable to move a muscle.

"Found you," he growls.

Your survival instinct kicks into gear and you attempt to run away, sprinting across the glade with renewed vigor. If you can make it back into the forest you know you could shake him loose again, but staying in the clearing makes you a clear target.

Logan roars, the sound loud enough to shake the branches of nearby trees. You risk a glance over your shoulder and are met with the sight of the man on all fours, running towards you with single minded determination. He rapidly closes the distance with impressive speed, wrapping his arms around you and taking you down to the ground for the second time that night.

You grapple with him, landing a kick to his chest that gives you the chance to crawl out from beneath him. He reaches a hand out for your ankle and drags you back toward him, using his weight to hold you in place. You wiggle an arm free and strike at his face, though he dodges and your fingernails scrape against his neck, leaving red gashes in their wake that heal in the blink of an eye. He pins your arm to the ground above your head.

"No more runnin’,” he says, a command that shoots straight to your core. You know he’s not talking about just tonight, but rather how you’ve been avoiding him.

But how were you supposed to face him when the only thoughts you had of him since then were about how sweet he tasted, how good he felt, how much you wanted more, more, more that you couldn’t possibly ask him to give?

Your inner turmoil is lost when his lips slam against yours in a kiss that’s hot and hungry, stealing your breath with its ferociousness. His teeth sink into your bottom lip and you gasp at the sharp sting of pain that lights up your nerves. There’s nothing gentle about it, but you’re not gentle creatures and the beasts that pace and snarl beneath your ribcage have finally broken free.

Logan breaks the kiss to stare down at you with wild eyes. Blood, your blood, stains his lips and his tongue darts out to lick it away with a satisfied hum. He leans in close, burying his face in your neck, inhaling deeply, mouth open against your skin with the threat of sharp teeth over your racing pulse.

“Can’t hide it,” he says. “Not when I can smell it on you, sweetheart.”

“Smell what?”

“How much you want it.” He nips at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, making you hiss. “How much you want me.”

Heavy hands find the hem of your shirt, shoving it up your chest until it’s bunched beneath your armpits. He pulls down your bra to expose your breasts and your nipples tighten at the sudden burst of cold air against your skin but his mouth is on you in an instant, warm tongue tracing the taut buds. Your back arches at the sensation and you dig your fingers into his thick hair, pulling at the strands. He hums with pleasure as he switches to your other breast, giving it the same maddening attention.

His palm slides down your belly, fingers dipping beneath the elastic of your leggings and finding your needy center, swirling through the mess you’ve already made in your underwear. You can feel the smug grin on Logan’s face before he even lifts his head to look at you.

“That’s what I thought.” He withdraws his hand, holding it up to his face. In the moonlight you catch a glimpse of the strands of slick stretching between his index and middle finger before he sticks them in his mouth with a groan, licking them clean. “Fuck, you taste better than I imagined.”

The metallic sound of his claws unsheathing reaches your ears and your pulse jumps as he drags the blunt side of a single blade up the inside of your thigh. The tip catches on the fabric covering your pussy and with one quick move of his wrist he slices through your pants. His claw disappears and he reaches down with both hands to tear the fabric further.

Logan settles on his belly with his head between your thighs, your legs propped up on his broad shoulders. He kisses your pussy over the soaked fabric of your underwear but

spares you any further teasing, grabbing your panties in a tight fist and pulling roughly until the elastic snaps against your skin and he holds the torn fabric in his fist. He tosses them aside and buries his face in your cunt, devouring you like a man on a mission. His tongue alternates circling your sensitive clit and dipping into your dripping entrance, expertly tracing every inch of you. You’re so lost to the pleasure that you don’t notice him getting to his knees until he’s lifting your hips, hands gripping your ass tightly to keep your lower body suspended in the air and his mouth sealed to your cunt.

“Fuck!” you cry out, muscles growing tense as your orgasm builds. It hits you like a tidal wave, coursing through your veins as you shout his name like a prayer. His hold remains tight as he works you through it until you grow boneless in the aftermath.

He lowers you slowly back to the ground and you fight to catch your breath while he quickly removes his belt and shoves his jeans down enough to free his cock. You watch him take himself in hand, a brief slide of his fist over his impressive length before he runs the glistening head through your sensitive folds, bumping your clit and making you shiver.

Logan’s gaze remains fixed to yours as he presses forward, breaching your tight entrance. Your body accepts him greedily, the slight sting and stretch barely a thought when all you can focus on is how full he makes you feel.

His lips find yours for a messy kiss while he begins to thrust, a slow drag of his cock from your body followed by a sharp snap of his hips that punches the air from your lungs. You cling to his shoulders, clawing at his skin. The scent of his blood invades your senses and your teeth begin to ache at the memory of his taste.

Your teeth catch on his lip and he hisses but doesn’t pull away. Copper blooms across your taste buds and you can’t help the desperate moan that escapes into the kiss.

“Come on, baby,” Logan says. “Take a bite.”

You rest a palm on the back of his head, urging him closer, lifting your head and kissing his neck, licking the salty taste of him from over his fluttering pulse. You open your mouth, sinking your teeth into skin and muscle and vein until warm blood spills into your mouth. The combination of his blood on your tongue and his cock spreading you open sends you over the edge.

Above you, Logan growls, a deep rumble you can feel down to your marrow, some ancient part of you preening with excitement. He holds himself still as you clench around him. Your orgasm slowly subsides and you find the strength to unclench your tense jaw from his neck, gently licking at the blood that spills from the deep impressions of your teeth.

Logan sits up, cock slipping from your body and leaving you achingly empty. His hands grip your hips, forcefully turning your lax body over and hiking your ass into the air. He spreads your cheeks and the vulnerable position has your whole body growing hot.

“Hope you didn’t think we were done,” he tells you as he positions himself behind you, thrusting his length back into your body and setting a brutal pace that has you crying out into the night.

One hand holds your hip with bruising force while the other settles on your shoulder, pulling you into every delicious snap of his hips. Your mind goes blissfully blank with the overwhelming pleasure building up inside of you for the third time.

He folds forward, his chest pressed to your back and his pace growing sloppy as he nears his own release. A hand curls around yours, a moment of intimacy that leaves you reeling.

Logan roars, hips slamming into a final time, dragging your last orgasm from you as his cock pulses with his release inside of you. A sharp pain on your hip makes you gasp and you notice his claws have extended from the hand wrapped around yours, sinking into the dirt.

“Shit,” he pants, sitting up after a moment. The loss of his heat makes you shiver. “I nicked you.”

You slowly move yourself into a seated position, muscles feeling like jelly, and inspect the area that the pain came from. Your leggings have a new slice in the fabric and the material is sticky with blood but to your surprise, there’s no wound to be found.

“You heal that quick?” Logan asks. You shake your head.

“Not usually.” You run your fingers over smooth skin. “Must have been your blood.”

“You think so?”

You shrug. “Just a guess. Never fed from someone with advanced healing factor.”

“You sayin’ I’m your first?” he asks with a smirk. You can’t help the laugh that escapes and his smirk stretches into a grin. Logan stands, fixing his pants and holding a hand out to help you up.

“How am I supposed to get back into the mansion like this?” you ask, gesturing to your destroyed leggings.

“Guess I didn’t think that through,” he admits. “Give me a few minutes and I can be back with some new clothes.”

“How are you going to get into my room?”

He turns to look at you, continuing to walk backwards.

“I’m a man of many talents.”

With a wink, he disappears through the trees. You sigh.

What have you gotten yourself into?

Thank you for reading!

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zae-heeyyy · 6 months ago

Text

Seraphic

Summary: You are Arthur's angel. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!reader Word count: 2,222 Tags: smut, high honor Arthur Warnings: 18+ MDNI

a/n: Whew 😅 I'm a little nervous to post this one. 🫣 Been sitting on it for a while (no pun intended) I've read and reread it a million times, and I'm ready to share. Also, we're pretending like Arthur's tent actually closes. Anyway thanks for reading!

Seraphic: something angelic or celestial in nature, often suggesting purity, beauty, or holiness.

By 1 a.m., the sounds of camp had reduced to the songs of crickets and the crackle of the fire. While everybody else slept, you waited up for Arthur, reading a book under lantern light in his tent. He arrived eventually, keeping his greeting short and joining you on his cot with slouched shoulders, seemingly exhausted. When he took his hat off, the grimace on his face became all the more apparent. His expression and tense body language told you all you needed to know; whatever happened out there wasn't good.

You handed him a match and a cigarette from his nightstand, and he thanked you with a nod. Using the heel of his boot, he struck the match and lit the cigarette, holding it with his thumb and index fingers. Flickering lantern light and the burning ember tip illuminated his bruised knuckles.

"Should I ask?" You traced a gentle finger over the bruises, and he shook his head.

"Best not," he replied, exhaling a ribbon of smoke.

"Well, I'm glad you're still in one piece," you said, looking him over. His shirt had seen cleaner, less wrinkled days, and sweat plastered his hair to his forehead. "Well, mostly in one piece."

He let out a gust of air, a failed attempt at a laugh, before pinching the bridge of his nose and groaning.

"Headache?" you asked, and he confirmed. The discomfort came with the life he lived. Loud gunfire, the rush of adrenaline, and focusing on his shots all combined to leave him in pain afterward. You exited the tent momentarily and returned with a bowl of warm water, a cloth, and a bottle of miracle tonic.

"Here—for your head." He took the medicine and snuffed his cigarette. Rejoining him, you sat on the cot and dabbed his face with the wet cloth, wiping away dirt and sweat. A soft kiss on his temple prompted him to lean into you, the tension finally dissipating. You wrapped your arms around his big frame and held him close. Obviously, he was your safe space, but oh—were you his. Eyes shut, he rested his head on your bosom.

Arthur found comfort in his typical role as protector and provider. But in these moments, when roles faded, he could feel the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders—a crushing weight he didn't even realize he was carrying. Being with you like this made him wonder if heaven was real because you were godsent.

To Arthur's dismay, you unraveled yourself from him to tie the tent flap closed, sealing the two of you away in the dark. Walking between his legs, you untied his neckerchief and dusted his soiled shirt.

"—Needs a wash. Your blood or someone else's?" you questioned, fingers undoing the top button.

"Not mine," he answered. Peeling the shirt off and tossing it aside, you studied him for a second time tonight. He'd seemed more relaxed than when he arrived, but his brow stayed brooding. Still positioned with his legs on either side of you, you caressed his face, one of your thumbs stroking the hairless scar on his chin.

"What else can I do?"

"You done enough; I'm fine." He gave your hand on his face a reassuring squeeze.

Leaning forward, you kissed him tenderly. His arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you nearer until your foreheads touched. You spoke low against his mouth, a playful grin forming on yours.

"You gotta stop getting yourself into so much trouble, Arthur Morgan."

Your demand was met with a chuckle, and he replied, "I'll do my best, darlin'." You peppered his lips with loving, tender kisses, making him smile against them and squeeze you tighter in a hug. You would do just about anything to see that man smile at you the way he did, all soft and endearing.

Your kisses subsided, but Arthur's affectionate gaze stayed fixed on you. The slight smile on his face had straightened, his expression mirroring the intensity of the one he wore when he first confessed his love for you.

"Got that look on your face," you told him, and he just blinked slowly, awestruck. Though he often swore he was a man of few words, he could fill volumes with his devotion for you. You loved it when he got like that, entranced and overwhelmed with love.

The way he watched you set a fire within you that warmed the most intimate parts of your being. He was surprised when you let yourself fall heavily into him, trying to get as close as possible. Maybe he was going to say something or make a noise, but he didn't have the time before your mouth was on his again, your tongue pushing through his lips to tangle with his. You only pulled away when you needed to breathe.

Instead of pressing your lips to his once more, you dropped to your knees in front of him. Eyes widening, he tried to bring you back up to your feet, shaking his head, once again astounded by you.

"Sweetheart—"

Still on your knees, you patted his cheek and looked up at him with doe eyes. "Shhh, let me take care of you, Arthur." His hand found yours on his face, and he turned to kiss it, nodding placidly. Both of you managed to keep your volume low as you helped him strip down to his union suit. You began working at the buttons of his neckline, doing more ripping than unbuttoning, shoving the fabric down his shoulders.

As more clothing fell away, you trailed sweet kisses down his abdomen. At the same time, his hands roamed wherever they could. The rough pads of his fingers lightly tracing your skin mirrored a faint electric charge. Despite being a brute of an outlaw, he was overly careful with his hands when it came to you; your body was fine china and deserved to be treated as such. Goosebumps formed in a wake left by his touch.

As you kissed down the trail of hair under his belly button, his rapid breathing hitched, and the bulge between his legs strained against the flannel fabric, begging to be unleashed. You tried to find his eyes as you groped him through the underwear, but his head was tipped back, his mouth agape.

"Look at me." You whispered, and he snapped to attention like a soldier following commands. Eyes locked on his, you unclasped the last button, and his length sprung free, the pink head of his cock primed with anticipation. A teasing laugh crept up within you as you trailed soft kisses from the base of his shaft and left one long lingering peck on the tip. The loud, rhythmic thumping of his heart was music to your ears. Not wanting to keep him waiting any longer, you took his entire length in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down, taking him deeper until your nose touched the curly hairs at the base.

Then he couldn't hold it in anymore; a deep, guttural groan escaped him.

Your mouth was the warmest, most intoxicating blanket he'd ever been wrapped in, and he never wanted to leave. He gaped at you, seeing your mouth full of him, his pupils dilated with pure lust. The blunt tip of his cock pressed to the back of your throat, making it constrict around him. His whole body shuddered.

"Look whatchu' do to me, woman," he rattled, tangling his hands in your hair. Despite his eagerness, you withdrew from his aching sex, a string of saliva joining your lips to him. Something reminiscent of a whine exited him when you stepped away, but his open mouth fell shut at the sight of your bloomers slipping down your legs. You kissed him, savoring the salty, bitter taste of his arousal mixed with the tobacco and herbs of his mouth.

"Lay back," you murmured in his ear. Obeying your command once again, he let out a grunt as he felt your weight on top of him. You straddled him, and he held you up, his fingers digging firmly into your sides. Bending at the waist, you kissed longingly, your hips undulating against his. He pulled your nightgown up around your midriff, one of his hands gripping the flesh of your ass while the other one went between your legs. His index finger sank painstakingly into your weeping cunt, then brushed over your clit, making you shiver. He raised himself on his elbows, reaching for the hem of your sleep dress.

"Take this off; let me see you." You raised your arms and let him yank the garment away, leaving you completely exposed on top of him. "Beautiful," he breathed, using the back of his hand to graze your skin. Breathy sighs escaped you as he traced delicate circles around your nipples. His eyes bored into you, absorbing every detail like you were the most captivating thing that ever lived. Hyperfocused on your body, he fondled your breasts before gliding his hands down your torso, ogling, taking all of you in.

Freezing, his stare intensified as you massaged the tip of his cock up and down your glistening slit. Touching his lips to yours, you pushed him into your wet folds. Neither of you could contain the sounds building with you. He split you open, stretching you, making room for him, filling you. You held yourself up with your hands braced on his chest, but you went weak as he bottomed out within you, brushing against that deep, tender spot. You would've fallen if he wasn't there to hold you up, a thought mirroring one he had about you so often.

"I got you," he whispered into your ear. It took every ounce of restraint he had not to snap his hips up into you, the warm embrace of your center clearing his mind and driving him mad all the same. Finally, you started to ride, surging and sinking into him. He was a simple, agnostic man, but being with you like this made him believe in all the theocracy of angels, soulmates, and divine intervention. This was his bliss. This was his heaven, and you were his seraph. He'd go through hell every day if it meant coming home to this—to you. Hypnotized in the rhythm of you, a new thought crossed his mind every time you bounced.

Up.

She's so goddamn beautiful.

Down.

So perfect.

Up.

My girl.

Down.

My girl, my girl, my girl, my girl.

Up.

My angel.

Down.

I love her so much.

Up.

So wet.

Down

So warm.

Up.

So danm tight.

Down.

Shit.

And before you could come back up again, he squeezed his eyes shut, halting your hips with all the strength he could muster, fighting the damn-near irresistible urge to cum inside of you. Sweat had built up on his brow, and his stomach rose and fell quickly with each panting breath. You folded to kiss him, your hard nipples grazing against his chest.

"It's okay," you whispered, patting his face and grinding antagonizingly slow against him. You wanted him—needed him— to come undone for you. With that goal in mind, you picked up the pace and rolled your hips relentlessly, moaning your every thought into his ear.

"You feel so good inside of me."

"I need you."

"I love you."

Your climax was building fast, and you reached to give relief to that sensitive bundle of nerves atop your center. Arthur pushed your hand away swiftly, replacing it with his own. Always a giver, he'd do anything to feel useful while you were treating him like royalty.

While one hand worked your clit, his other gripped the meat of your hip, rocking you in time with his upward thrusts. His head tipped and hit the pillow, and you could feel his thighs tensing and shaking beneath you. Lips parted, he stared up at you. You felt him twitch inside you, and his brow finally relaxed.

That did it for you.

You were wordless as your orgasm ripped through you, your head swirling, and your veins on fire. Arthur's guiding hand on your hip didn't stop, and he fucked you through your climax. Hugging your body close and nuzzling his face into your neck, he growled as he painted your inner core with his own release. You stayed like that, glued to each other as you came down from your highs.

"You're too good for me," he finally said. You clasped a hand into his, kissing the long-forgotten bruises on his knuckles.

"Shut up." You responded, and he didn't say another self-deprecating word. It was the least he could do.

You cleaned up and redressed, nestling into the small, one-man cot. Finally settled for the night, you resorted to your regular bedtime positions: your head on his chest, his arms wrapped securely around you, your legs tangled in one another's.

He rose before you in the morning, perching himself on the cot's edge while you slept behind him. He wrote in his journal, his thumb leaving a smudge on the page:

"For a long time, I believed I could not live a bad life and expect good things to happen to me. Yet somehow, this woman of pure goodness entered my life, and it is clear now that I have been a fool."

#peep the angel number word count #all banners made by be #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 community #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 photography #read dead redemption 2 photography #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fanfiction #wait i used 3 word counters and they all gave different numbers so idk what that's about. grammarly says 2222 though so 🤷🏾‍♀️#zaefic #amje

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runninriot · 3 months ago

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keep your pretty face out of trouble

written for @steddieangstyaugust day 20

prompt: "I didn't know where else to go." | rated: T | wc: 2.596 | cw: mentions of blood, injuries, homophobia | tags: Steve Harrington is a mess, and so is his face, Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Friends to Lovers | also on ao3

Eddie didn’t really know what to expect when he entered the Henderson’s home. Dustin had been quite vague on the phone, didn’t say much at all to be honest, nothing of substance at least. Nothing that could’ve prepared Eddie for what he finds when he steps into the living room where, next to his little pal, he finds none other than Steve Harrington sitting on the couch.

And as if that isn’t confusing enough, what’s really concerning is the way he looks.

His face is fucked. Beaten, bruised, mush. There is blood on his lower lip and dripping out from his nose into a tissue that’s already soaked.

Dustin is sitting by his side, holding what seems to be a bag of frozen peas against the older boy’s neck.

“Dustin, what the fu-“

He doesn’t get to finish his question because Steve suddenly looks up, eyes wide in shock like he’s just now becoming aware of Eddie’s presence, before turning to Dustin with an expression that isn’t at all hard to read.

What’s he doing here?

Dustin lets go of the frozen goods in order to hold both hands up defensively.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that! I didn’t know what to do, so I called Eddie.”

“You shouldn’t have done that. I’m fine.”

“You are very clearly not fine, Steve!”

They’re doing this weird but kinda adorable staring competition they often do when they’re arguing and it would be amusing to watch if it weren’t for whatever the fuck is going on with Steve’s face.

Dustin doesn’t waver, holds Steve’s disapproving gaze seemingly unimpressed but Eddie could hear the tremble in his voice, knows Dustin is only barely keeping it together.

Always trying to keep up a brave face, Dustin is, but Eddie knows his vulnerable side, too. Maybe that’s why Dustin called him instead of Wheeler or any of the other Gremlins when Steve- what? Appeared on his doorstep all beat-up? Or where they out together when it happened? Is Dustin hurt, too?

Eddie shakes himself out of his thoughts, lets his eyes wander between the two, both hands on his hips like he’s seen Steve do whenever he’s trying to make a point.

“Alright, enough! Can someone please tell me what happened?” Eddie asks as he steps closer, watching Steve’s shoulders tense immediately.

“I told you, I’m fine. I just- I didn’t know where else to go! Robin’s not home and-”

Okay, ouch! Eddie feels slightly offended. Steve could’ve come to him instead of-

Nevermind. There are bigger problems at hand.

“It was stupid, I’m sorry. I’ll be out of your hair.”

Steve makes an attempt to stand up but his body betrays him as soon as he’s on his feet, swaying slightly into Eddie’s direction, who catches him instinctively, steadies him with a hand on his arm.

“Woah there, big boy! You’re gonna sit your ass back down for me, okay?”

Eddie can sense that Steve wants to put up a fight but thankfully, he doesn’t. Instead, he lets Eddie guide him back down.

“Some assholes did this to him,” Dustin finally says. “I don’t know who but Steve said he got into a fight.”

“I only came here because it was closer than my place,” Steve grumbles, obviously regretting his decision now.

“You scared the shit out of me, Steve! So I called Eddie because- well, I don’t know. I thought maybe he could help talk some sense into you. You need to go to the hospital! Or a doctor, I don’t care but someone’s gotta take care of that.” Dustin says, pointing at the mess that is Steve’s face.

“I don’t need a doctor. I’m fine, really. See, it already stopped bleeding.”

Steve retrieves the once-white-now-red tissue to prove that the bleeding has stopped, which it has. But Eddie can see in Dustin’s eyes that the boy is still not convinced enough to let him off the hook.

“Let me have a look?” Eddie gently takes hold of Steve’s chin to tilt his head up, feels his courage falter for a split-second when Steve’s pupils suddenly dilate and he can see by the bob of his Adam’s apple, that he has to swallow down hard.

God, even with his face bloody and bruised Steve is fucking gorgeous. It’s really not fair, if you asked Eddie. That guy is beyond anything he could ever wish to-

No, no. Focus, Munson.

“Let’s see if we gotta be worried about your pretty face being blemished by a broken nose, ey?” Eddie jokes just to cover his own nervousness.

“How would you know if it’s broken? You’re not a doctor.” Dustin protests, rightfully sceptical about Eddie’s ability to come up with a valid diagnosis.

“Ah, see, when you’ve had your nose broken several times, you kinda know what to look for,” Eddie replies nonchalantly as he examines the swelling around Steve’s nose, ignoring the sad, kind of pitying look in Steve’s eyes at his statement.

“I think you’re good, Harrington. Still straight and beautiful as ever. It’ll hurt for a few days but you’ll live,” Eddie says with a wink, hesitating to let go of his face even if there’s no need to hold him still anymore.

For a moment, their eyes are locked in on each other, both staring wide-eyed and kind of lost in some spellbound haze that makes it impossible for either of them to look away.

Unfortunately – or rather, lucky for him – Dustin’s voice breaks through the static crackling in Eddie’s ears and brings him back to reality.

“I don’t know Eddie. Are you sure it’s not broken?”

Eddie finally lets go of Steve, not without an instant feeling of regret at the loss of contact, and turns to the younger boy.

“I’m sure, Dusty. Believe me, when you’ve been beat up as often as I have, you quickly learn to know the difference between injuries that’ll hurt like a bitch but are otherwise harmless, and injuries that need medical attention.”

It does look worse than it is, thankfully. And with a bit of ice and some rest, Steve will be back on his feet in no time.

This, however, brings Eddie back to wondering what even got Steve in the state he’s currently in.

“Wanna tell me who did this? What happened?”

Steve looks down at his hands, fumbling with an invisible thread on his neat jeans.

“I, uh- got into a fight with some guys because they were talking shit about, uh-“

His eyes dart up to Eddie, just for the flicker of a moment, looking almost ashamed with that light blush creeping up from his cheeks to his ears, before he finds his voice again.

“About someone I care a lot about. They were being mean, called them some disgusting shit, made assumptions about them without knowing them. They-“ Steve looks at Dustin, obviously contemplating whether to say out loud what’s on his mind.

“They said these things like, how someone should teach them a lesson. To, uh, to set them straight.”

Steve swallows thickly, and the shuddering inhale tells Eddie that he’s trying his best not to break. That whatever it is he’s trying to say really gets to him.

Eddie is confused; he has a feeling that there’s more to Steve’s words. Like, maybe he doesn’t want to alert Dustin with the harsh reality of what they really meant.

‘Teach them a lesson’, the words echo in Eddie’s mind, ‘Set them straight.’

And suddenly, it dawns on him.

Suddenly, he understands what Steve is trying to say.

Did they- this is about Robin, right? Steve said they were talking shit about someone he cares a lot about.

Did these fuckers, whoever they might be, threaten to harm her for being... a lesbian? Is that it? It must be, right? It’s the only thing that makes sense, would explain why he’s all choked-up about it because everyone knows how deep their friendship is. How much Steve cares for Robin.

Fucking small-minded small-town dickheads and their outdated view on how things should be. God, Eddie hates it. Hates everything about them being stuck in a town where people still have to be afraid of openly showing who they are and who they love.

It’s why he never had a relationship. Why he flees to Indy and beyond on the weekends, whenever he’s desperate enough. He’ll never find love as long as he’s stuck here – for multiple reasons.

Robin is so much braver than him. Said fuck it a few weeks ago when she finally found the courage to ask out that girl she’s had a crush on forever. It was the talk of town the next day – ‘Did you hear that? Someone saw that Buckley girl kiss another girl! Can you believe that? What a disgrace. Displaying this filthy behaviour without any shame.’

Fucking assholes.

Thankfully, like with most gossip, people eventually lost interest and moved on to whatever next thing it was they found to deflect from their own miserable lives. But the damage had already been done. Ever since, Robin has been walking around with a big, fat, neon sign on her forehead, saying ‘I’m queer and proud’ – which should be liberating, a cause for celebration, but it’s not.

Not here, anyway.

“Eddie?”

The warmth of Steve’s palm on his arm brings him back.

“Huh? What? What is it?”

“You, uh... kinda zoned out there for a moment. Are you okay?”

This startles a laugh out of him. Of course, Steve would ask him if he’s okay, when he’s the one with a swollen face. Typical.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just- tell me who.”

“What?”

“Who where those guys. I’m feeling petty and I haven’t been in a fight for a while.”

Eddie wiggles his brows at Steve and grins, makes it sound like a joke. But Steve must see the rage in his eyes, must sense that he means it because there’s suddenly so much worry in his eyes, the kind of honest concern that makes Eddie’s heart melt.

“I don’t- No, Eddie. I won’t tell you. You need to stay away from those guys! That’s what they’d want and I don’t want anything to happen to you!”

Steve seems frantic, like the mere thought of Eddie getting into a fight with them is making him panic.

But why would he-

“They’re a bunch of assholes! And I told them, if they ever dare to lay a hand on you, they’ll wish they’d finish what they started today. I will not let some intolerant bigots hurt you!”

Oh.

This has never been about Robin, has it?

They’ve been talking shit about Eddie.

And Steve-

“Why would you get into a fight over me?!”

Eddie jumps off the sofa, both hands in his hair, tugging roughly at his own curls.

“What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I?” Steve replies sounding perplexed. “I care about you, Eddie! And it’s not okay that these- these fuckers think that only because you’re- only because you are who you are, it’s okay to treat you like that. Doesn’t matter if it’s behind your back or to your face!”

Steve takes a deep breath trying to calm his voice.

“To say shit like they’re going to do- bad things to you? How can I stand there and listen to that and do nothing?”

This is too much for Eddie. It’s too much for so many reasons, most of which he’s not ready to explain.

The worst and most important one, though, is that Steve’s face is covered in bruises because he was protecting Eddie. Steve got into a fight because someone threatened to hurt Eddie and in return, got hurt because of him.

“Well, look where that got you! You don’t have to always be the hero, Steve.” It’s not meant as an insult, although it must sound like one.

“I’m used to people talking shit about me. I can live with that.”

Steve opens his mouth to say something but Eddie beats him to it.

“What I can’t live with, is knowing that you could’ve gotten seriously injured because you were trying to defend me.”

Dustin stays uncharacteristically quiet the whole time, just alternates his gaze between Steve and Eddie, stunned into silence by whatever weird scene it is that’s unravelling before his eyes.

Eddie can’t blame him, can’t really wrap his head around any of it himself.

Why are they shouting? What are they even arguing about? And why the fuck is Steve suddenly so close? Why is he holding his hands? And why does he look at him like he-

“Steve, I really appreciate you looking out for me, okay? But I can’t take it to see you get hurt. You’re face is too pretty to be covered in blood.”

Eddie huffs out a tentative laugh and to his relief, Steve does too, but not without rolling his eyes in fake annoyance at Eddie’s cheesy line.

“Are you guys gonna make out now?”

They both turn around only to find Dustin standing there with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Because as much I love you, I think there are some things my innocent eyes do not have to see.”

“Shut up you little shit!” Eddie scolds him but does so with a smile on his lips because-

Because Dustin might be onto something here. Or at least that’s what it feels like. Because Steve still hasn’t let go of his hands. And while Eddie is trying his best not to completely drown in Steve’s eyes by looking at Dustin instead, he can still feel Steve’s eyes on him.

And when he turns back, Steve has this fond, almost loving look on his face; an expression so soft not even the swollen nose or the dried blood can take away from the beauty of it.

Just for a moment, Eddie allows himself to dream. To wonder if maybe he can find love in this godforsaken town after all. Thinks, foolishly, that if Robin can have her happy ending, maybe he can, too.

“For real, guys. The tension is killing me. Can you either speed this up or take it somewhere else because I can’t take it.”

“Get used to it, shithead,” Steve says without looking at him, eyes still trained on Eddie.

“Yeah, Dusty. Get used to it because I’m gonna be so annoying once your babysitter’s face is all healed up,” Eddie teasingly agrees, ignoring Dustin’s defeated sigh.

“Does that mean you want to kiss me?” Steve asks a little breathless.

Eddie leans closer to him and whispers “Want nothing more. But I wouldn’t want our first kiss to hurt so it’s gotta wait. And you need to keep your pretty face out of trouble. Understood?”

He doesn’t know where this sudden rush of bravery is coming from but he takes it, needs it because-

“I might be a little bit in love with you, Stevie. So I need you take better care of yourself, okay? I can’t let you get hurt.”

Somewhere in the room, Dustin is making fake gagging noises but Eddie’s focus is set on Steve who looks like he’s in trance, like he can’t believe what Eddie just told him.

“I will, promise,” he finally says and sure, Eddie might have hoped for a little love confession in return for his own but he doesn’t need Steve to say it to know that this isn’t a one-sided crush.

And he’ll make damn sure Steve keeps his promise because he really wants that kiss as soon as possible.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddie fic #steddieangstyaugust

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satyricplotter · 5 months ago

Text

NSFW Alphabet — Dick Grayson, Jason Todd and Tim Drake

Be warned, I wrote this for myself but it got so long I was like, I gotta publish this, so a lot of the language is raunchy and joking. It's not polished whatsoever. It is also very fitted to my tastes, which isn't necessarily what I'd do for a story. Use of the second person, reader as gender neutral as I could, but I refer to a variety of scenarios with different genitalia.

WC: 6.7k

Triggers and tags discussed or mentioned: body image, biting, breeding, dubcon, noncon, cnc, mutual noncon, sexual assault (as a different category and a reference to Dick's canon) somnophilia, breath play, watersports, scat, blood, bondage, BDSM in general, pegging (implied), dildos, vibrators, toys in general, sensory deprivation, crying, crossdressing, porn, hentai, anal, PIV, cunnilingus, whatever the proper term for sucking dick is, cum, demeaning terms (cum dump, specifically), fingering, masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, age play, pregnancy and birth control, thigh fucking, frottage, edging, cumming in pants... maybe more. I am tired of listing things. Simply beware.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Dick: somehow I don't think he has much time for aftercare. To me this dude always seems a little on the go and distracted by other things. Like, half the sex you have with him is quickies where upon his departure you gotta tidy yourself up, or they're hours long affairs with few breaks to think about moving. In these latter instances, he takes a long, long time to stand up and get moving after you're done. I think he's always secretly waiting for another last round even when it's clear you're both tapped out. He stays in bed and cuddles, uncaring for the drying substances on either of you. Most often he just kisses you, slow and tender, as he holds you. Eventually you gotta kick him out of bed and clean yourself up and then he's rushing to help you.

Jason: my man is methodical. This is His Job and he has His Way to do it. He keeps his bed crisp, towels at hand, water nearby etc etc. He's always the one to wipe you down, straighten you up if there's still clothes involved. You always whine you wanna cuddle a bit and he's like no. You'll get an UTI. Go pee. We'll cuddle after. And you shuffle sadly to the bathroom. The sheets are new when you come back. He dislikes being rushed and not being able to tidy, so you gotta be very strategic when you know you won't end up in bed.

Tim: Tim's a baby. Tim's the one you gotta clean up, the one you gotta lay down and tell him to stay put. He's very bad with being in the moment if he's got something else going on, so you gotta keep all electronics away from him. Mostly you gather him in your arms and run his fingers through his hair, while he absently traces circles on your skin, and then nods off eventually.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Dick: I think Dick really likes his forearms! A dark horse, of course, considering the stellar butt, but that seems to be a little of a sour point. I think he loves his figure in general, and the graceful line of it. For his partners, I'm thinking the waist to hip area—the tummy essentially, but also the lower back. He loooves to sling an arm around your waist and squeeze, loves to nip at the lower belly, loves a good pinch. He just likes grabbing. The sides of your thighs are always marked with his fingers.

Jason: man's an ass guy. He loves to watch that shit bounce. You can't miss with the bending over. He's behind you immediately, a hand on your hip like hey... As for himself, genuinely I think he likes his hands. They've gone through a lot. You can tell they're pretty banged up. But he's a maker, a fiddler—he builds his gadgets, he pulls the trigger. He's so into precision, I think he appreciates them a lot for the tools they can be. And his fingers pumping in and out of you are never a bad sight.

Tim: He's a cop out and would say brain. He likes his eyes best, I think. He doesn't strike me as the type of man who fixates on any part of his body but rather takes it in as a whole, and as such finds it difficult to like, separate it into pieces unless it's for a specific purpose. Oh, maybe his calves. They're nicely shaped. But his eyes are very pretty and he knows they're charming. As for you, he likes tits (big, small, pecs, etc). Just the chest area in general. Big fan of a nipple. Will suck and bite and twist until you squirm. If you're not sensitive, you simply haven't met him. He'll pavlov your nipples to harden upon seeing him and then smile evilly when you complain. A low cut anything is a direct challenge and he will take it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Dick: nothing will stop this man from coming inside eventually. He'll wear you down talking about how good it will feel to fill you up, or you will eventually come to beg him for it and he'll take the opportunity with no complaint. If you can get pregnant, keep that birth control schedule TIGHT. Nothing he loves more than watching cum dribble out of you. Loves to stuff you with it, loves to rub it over your entrance, loves to watch it squelch as he goes back in to pump you full of more.

Jason: actually very normal about it. He doesn't believe in pulling out, so he wears a condom and disposes of it safely. He does love to cum on your face. That's very much a thing. It's a relatively safe thing to do, and he likes it a lot when you try to catch it all with your mouth but it ends up dripping off your cheek. When your eyelashes are sticky with it—ooh. He knows it hurts if it gets on your eyes, and he apologizes while he wipes it off, but he's already semi hard again so you can't quite believe him.

Tim: if he's topping, he's pretty normal about it. Doesn't feel any type of way about his own cum, though he kinda likes it when you mix it with your own and feed it to him, but that's mostly because he loves your fingers in his mouth. If you're topping (and if you can cum from that inside him), he's suddenly the nation's number one cump dump. Stuff my man up. He can take it. Ooh, he wants to take it. He really, really wants you to blow a load inside him. A lot of the times, it's the feeling of being filled up that has him coming himself.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Dick: he's, like, very into somno, but he hates to bring it up first. The thing with Dick is that he's so good at denying himself things he doesn't care about but the minute he really, really wants something, he struggles real hard not to go get it. And he really wants that pussy (gn). He's the king of guilty fucking. I honestly think he likes being a little ashamed of what he's doing, like it just... Brings flavour to the table. But he's an Upstanding Citizen so while he looks at your ass while you're asleep and imagines what it'd be like if he could just roll your pants down a little and rub the head of his dick against your entrance, he will not speak a word until you bring it up or you find him jerking off over you at the thought of it.

Jason: easiest man to get to sub for you. Doesn't look like it, doesn't wanna admit it, but you get him at the right moment? Oooh baby. He's so easy to unravel, blushing to the tips of his ears and wet all over. You can literally do whatever you like with him in that state. He bounces off your cock (gn) so pretty, though he doesn't enjoy bottoming regularly.

Tim: mfing stalker. He takes pictures of you all the fucking time. You don't know the half of it. And he jacks off to the weirdest shit because it's not so much about how you look in that picture, but the idea of your innocence being corrupted (so corny) (you'd look at it and be like, tim, I can take nudes, you know, you don't have to masturbate to a blurry panty shot taken under the dinner table, you can't even see shit).

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Dick: this is dick grayson we're talking about. Be real. He's been around. He knows his way around the human (and alien, shoutout to my baby Kori) body. Nine out of ten times, he's the most experienced person in the relationship. And not only does he know what he's doing , he's good at it.

Jason: there's about three universes or so where Jason's not a virgin when he meets you. The rest of them my boy's simply too fucked up and/or busy for love, so he just... Doesn't. It doesn't seem to me like having sex was a priority to him, and while I think he regularly gets propositioned, he's the type of dude that just blinks at you until you slink away in shame, so he simply doesn't get laid until he's in a relationship. At most he's fucked two people before he fucks you.

Tim: this is dick grayson 2.0. he pulled steph, he pulled kon, he pulled bernard. He has by far the widest breadth of knowledge about sex, although most of it doesn't come from first hand experience. He hasn't had that much freaky sex, but he knows plenty about it. He's very adventurous.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Dick: oh, eugh, this man think you're a contortionist. He thinks you guys are equals. It doesn't matter how much you tell him he's far more flexible than you, he loves twisting you up into the weirdest positions in the book, and you know what? He's right. You do feel him so much more with your leg up in space and the other one around his ankle.

Jason: doggy. Again, my man loves to watch it jiggle.

Tim: he loves being ridden. Just infatuated with the sight of his cock leaving and breaching your entrance, and your thighs quivering, and how it all gets so wet. I think he'd be more partial to the cowgirl/boy than the reverse bc tits, but yk. Loves to watch you go.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Dick: He's sooooo into getting a laugh out of you with a stupid joke so he can ram into you and watch it catch on your throat. Thinks it's grand. He's the goofiest of them all, but he likes to make you laugh, and doesn't entertain your attempts to be funny. There's only one clown in this bed ☝️ So annoying.

Jason: he can be giggly at the beginning, like laughing into your mouth, but once he gets going, he's pretty serious about it. Not withdrawn, but he doesn't want to joke or, like, have a conversation. He's just laser focused on getting you both off.

Tim: he's alright on the jokes, doesn't particularly bring it to the bedroom. He's a little snappy, but not keen on super goofing around? Rather, I think you'd wanna make him laugh, just to get him to relax, and he'd roll his eyes and scoff but smirk a little. (I'm rlly picturing this with kon rn lmao)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Dick: he's got himself trimmed and pretty! I think he just cares about looking good. Not his main concern in life, but, you know.

Jason: he's kinda got to groom himself bc I headcanon that the pit let him some after effects so his nails and hair grows really fast. He doesn't like it, finds it a real chore, but it's like a real bush if he lets it go untamed. And he does it himself, of course.

Tim: I don't think Tim concerns himself much with that, but I also don't think he really needs it. He's the type not to grow that much hair anyway.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Dick: he is so romantic. He's the type to whisper things he doesn't mean, not because he's trying to gaslight you into thinking he has feelings, but because he gets caught up in the heat of the moment and also believes those things should be said. He's soft and coaxing, even when he gets mean, and he's very into small gestures in the sense that he holds your hand when you're going to come, he presses a kiss to your temple. Just loving, I guess, even if he doesn't, like, love you.

Jason: he is unbelievably, unbearably intense. You will not be able to shake him off, emotionally speaking. Even when he's trying not to be intense, he can't help it. There is always so much weight and deliberation to his touch. Under his fingers, you feel the skin of your body bloom with heat. And the eyes. Never stops looking. So sharp and heady. You can't look at him for you, but he forces you to look into his eyes when you're about to come, grabs your chin if you don't wanna.

Tim: it depends on how he feels about you. If it's casual sex, he is very casual about it. He's not one to make promises if they can be used against him lol but if he likes you... You can see the saw trap plans he's concocting in his mind to never get you off his dick again just coming alive in his eyes.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Dick: My take is that dick is so funny about this because he so absurdly prefers coming inside you or fucking your thighs or your tits that whenever he can't and has to resort to jacking off, he's kind of churlish about it? Like right at the beginning when he's just starting, you'd just see him pouting with a hand caressing his shaft almost disinterestedly. He's so funny. Then he gets going and comes and is like oh that was a nice experience actually.

Jason: When he begins to jack off while thinking about you, he's ashamed about it for the longest time. It's not the act itself that brings him embarrassment, but the fact that he used to do it kind of perfunctorily, like just... body upkeep, or whatever. A little impatient with it even, just to get it over with. And he didn't think about anyone in particular, just flashes of the stuff he was supposed to think about. Then one day, after he meets you, he's just going at it as usual and the image of you pops into his head. And he can't stop thinking about it. The question of what you look like, how you'd feel under his hands, how you'd sound—it consumes him. When he thinks about you looking at him slouched over his couch, smiling at him and kneeling between his legs, your eyes fixed on him as you offer to help and take him into your mouth—oof. He's never come so much in his life.

Tim: he is so so hot about it. He doesn't think about it that much and is the type to neglect his dick for ages until he has free time and suddenly he has to unleash two weeks worth of cum upon you. So he starts fisting his dick, shuddering at the feeling of finally getting some release, and thinks, I should share this, and starts recording, but because he is evil, he doesn't let you see. He places the phone on his desk (because he's STILL working, he just couldn't hold it any longer), and begins jacking off under his shirt. So you only see his flushed cheeks, the hair covering his eyes, and the way the wet spot on the fabric grows larger and larger as he goes. Near the end that thing's so transparent and sticky you can almost see the angry red head every time it pushes against the fabric—and then he splutters against the fabric with a cry of your name and doesn't even let it dry before he winks at the camera and cuts the video, just as he's going to lift the shirt. Evil.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Dick: well, I already said somno and breeding (I don't think he's into it for the children, like, seriously. Like if you can get pregnant and do, it's not going to be a nice surprise. He'll ride it out! But he's got commitment issues.) And thigh fucking. He's unbearable about it, particularly if you're wearing anything that gives him easy access.

Jason: My good honest man. He likes sense deprivation, I think, but he likes it being done to him. He's almost never not being in charge, however, so it doesn't come up often. If almost like a birthday special to him. He's also very into frottage, but I don't know if that counts as a kink? He likes coming in his pants a few times before the real deal.

Tim: is this a kink? He loves to make you cry. He just really likes bullying you to the point you're bawling. You can fuss and kick all you want, and it just turns him on, because the minute he removes himself, you're whining to have him again. I think that's his favourite way to make you cry, just to edge you unendingly until you're sobbing for him. He also likes age play, but he likes to play the younger part. I don't think quite mommy/daddy stuff (depends on the reader), but a bit of an emphasis on the age gap (think the blurry noona/hyung area in korean, when employed sexually. The terms are not translatable but that's the spirit of it).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Dick: everywhere. Does not discriminate. Inside the house, I think he likes bothering you when you're chilling in the couch. If your lying down there, he'll starts running up a hand between your thighs and he'll stop if you can't carry on the conversation. Outside, I think anywhere that is mildly risky—possibly the park? Kinda loves shoving you between trees and eating you out, or fingering you. When he comes onto you outside, it's mostly to get you to come so you have to hang out there, all sticky, thinking of him. He gets really thrilled by you running out of patience and pulling him out of whatever situation you're in just so you can go home and fuck. Sometimes you don't even make it home. You "force" him to fuck in a bathroom or in the car — closest relatively enclosed space you can find. He really enjoys those releases.

Jason: the bed. Give my boy his space and his nightstands! But outside that, no joke, the kitchen. It's more often than not his kitchen rather than yours, so he's there most often and it's where you find him and put your hands on him. Also god forbid you take anything out of the oven. He just shows up, takes it from your hands, presses you against the counter.

Tim: no joke loves to have you suck him off underneath his desk. He thinks it's funny when you bang your head against the top lmao but he also just likes to see you cramped into a tiny space and all over him.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Dick: Hear me out. He likes implied corruption masked as salvation. That sounds dramatic: what he likes is the tension between helping you and succumbing to his own desires. He is very often the more knowledgeable, powerful, etc party, he almost always has some advantage over you, and he likes struggling against the feeling of giving you what you want and thereby taking advantage of you. It's a weird, false dichotomy, but he likes playing the hero a lot, and that makes him feel sometimes like what he wants is selfish, which means he tends to be secretive and manipulative in order to get it, and he winds up doing stuff that is suspicious and much closer to taking advantage of you than just being upfront would've been. And he unfortunately really enjoys those times. I associate him a lot with the "I can't help myself from doing this" sentiment. So to answer the question lol, when you look particularly put together and he gets to mess it up, or when you look at him with big, round eyes, or when you look really fuckable and are not aware of it, he really likes that.

Jason: He's a slow goer. You have to seduce him. He likes the motion of that, likes having you come onto him, likes it when you're flirty and a little risqué just for his benefit. Likes when you're self assured, and when you're a little mean with him. He could watch you forever, but to really make him spring into action, you gotta tell him how badly you need him. That'll bring him to your side in a minute.

Tim: milfs. No joke. I think he's pretty attracted to cheery people he can make fun of. Oh, he really likes riling you up. That shit gets him fired up in a second. You're arguing with him and he's got to adjust in his pants, and he won't go down without a fight. He really, really likes bullying you lol He thinks it's so hot when you're annoyed

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Dick: no watersports/scat/blood (vampire universe exempt), and so on and so forth. It's a bit silly that he gets grossed out by it when he's so into cum, but, you know. Another thing is, he can't really be demeaning. It's not that he doesn't want to, but it never... hits? Like, he's unauthentic about it, in a way, and he's much better at praise. So it's not that he won't do it, but that it's a little mid lol

Jason: I don't think he can do CNC. Even if you really wanna, he just can't play the part without going limp. It's not in him to do that to you. He can't bear to hear you plead with him over that, it makes him feel gross and uncomfortable. He'll talk bad to you if you wanna, though.

Tim: breath play. He doesn't like the feeling of his airways being cut off even when he's at his most mindless, it always kickstarts his survival mode, and he can't choke you either because he doesn't trust himself to stop.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Dick: my good man #1 pussy (gn) eater in the house. He will be there hours. His poor cock will weep unendingly and he doesn't give a single fuck. Matter of fact, that first load after he finally slides into you? Best part of the job. Would not like it half as much without the various orgasms he drew out of you. And he's good at it, obviously. Practiced. I think he's also a decent cock sucker (what an image), but he's way more practiced with a pussy.

Jason: he also likes giving more than receiving, but he is soooooo hot when he lets you suck him off. It's the way he can barely hold back, how he falls apart in your mouth. The way his hands fist your hair despite himself, the way he weighs on your tongue. You have to beg him to let you suck him off first, but christ, if it ain't a gift when he acquiesces.

Tim: receiving, I think. I love to think about him sucking a dick, though. Very pretty. But in general, I think he prefers to be sucked off rather than being the one to give. He's fine at it! And he's not one to shy away from it if you wanna, or offer it when in the mood, but he thinks he's better with his fingers anyway, and he wants his mouth free for your nipples.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Dick: he tends to go more for the slow and sensual. It's part of the romantic vein of his style. He gets really close to you. He is also evil and very rarely loses control of himself, so he will fuck you however he wants, not how you beg him to, and because he's got so much experience, he usually has the better idea of how to get you to come.

Jason: i love him. Can't go slow. Okay, technically, he can, but he's got to work really hard at it. He just likes being inside you so much, he slips into that excitement too easily. His way of fucking is very bruising, very felt, much like his feelings. And again. My man loves to watch it jiggle.

Tim: he's the one man who will listen to how you want it. Mostly because he likes being ridden so you're setting the pace. He usually goes for slower rhythms, though, and if he's toying with you, he goes excruciatingly slow. Also knows to speed up exactly when your patience is about to snap.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Dick: again, half the sex he has is quickies so yeah, he likes them lol. I do think they appeal to him as an expression of unbridled want, in the sense of we want each other so much we have no time to savour one another and we still can't help ourselves from having a fleeting taste.

Jason: he dislikes not having time and space to do everything he wants to do, so he is mostly opposed to them. And he is very good at waiting, though the longer he waits, the longer you end up spending in the bedroom. He's also pretty big so he wants to have the room, time wise, to prep you to take him so the slide is easy and pleasurable for you, and the quickies don't afford him the space for that. He'll do it if you come to him real wet, though.

Tim: he thinks they're fun but he's very bad at them in the sense that once he starts doing you, he is very disgruntled that he has to stop. And he always fucking forgets it so he needles you to let him stick the tip in real quick, c'mon, just five minutes and we're done, and then you're having to bite down on his shoulder to pry him away from you before whoever you're waiting for comes in. And he likes the biting, so it's 50/50 whether he actually comes off.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Dick: yep. He's a little more conservative with what he's willing to try, and he doesn't like everything or want to implement it regularly, but he's very open to at least trying it ou. He doesn't come up with a lot of stuff himself, and he doesn't spend time researching on his own, but he'll see something interesting and bring it up next time if he decides he likes it enough to play out.

Jason: Jason has... categories. He's very intuitive when it comes to sex. He kind of already knows what he likes and can go off that knowledge to predict what he will like or not. And he's good at making modifications on things he finds uninteresting to better suit his needs, if you still wanna try. He doesn't like roleplaying in general, for example, but he will pretend you're both strangers so you can pick him up at the bar. Likes bringing you to the bathroom stalls and fucking you there.

Tim: oh yeah. He reads a lot. He's very curious. He'll go on the internet and read manuals, read reviews, take tests, etc. He's also much more likely to fixate on a certain kink for a period of time, or to genuinely incorporate it to his regular sexual life.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Dick: mr. first robin have been a vigilante since i was nine, have never not exercised, etc etc. Yeah. He ain't stopping.

Jason: the fucking pit. He keeps dying and coming back and it's like they pump more cum in his balls every time. Enough said.

Tim: see mr. grayson. I don't know how the spleen affects him, but I doubt he lets it hold him back. He will stop you after a while if you're topping tho. Doesn't like to be sore much. Which doesn't mean he'll stop altogether, you know, he still has a dick.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Dick: he hates your dildo. He's horribly, terribly jealous of it. At first he'd use it to tease you, but then he liked you for real and that thing became his sworn enemy. He despises the fact that he's away so much you have to resort to using it, basically, so it'll always kind of have a place in your bed. He resent a vibrator even more. It's super fucking funny to me. He's game for everything else that doesn't fuck you tho.

Jason: Jay likes gadgets for their ingenuity but I don't really see them coming up too often. A few restraints, blindfolds, maybe a cock ring? He'd like them better if you used some on him rather than him using them on you. He prefers to do the work with his hands and mouth and cock. Good honest work

Tim: I think Tim's game on toys for either participant. He'll make you watch him fuck himself onto a tentacle-shaped dildo, if that's something you're into, and he won't let you touch him. He's a terror with a vibrator, though, particularly if you have a clit? Dude. A remote operated vibe. Anal plugs with tails attached. A fucking machine? Get away from that man. When I say saw trap, I mean it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Dick: horrible. He is awful. Worst of all because he's also so very sweet, and tender, and he plays the fool to lower your guard, and then you're lying there, gasping around his cock for the umpteenth time because he will not let you come yet and nothing you say breaks his nerve, and he just. taunts you. He's also soooooo into walking around looking delectable and playing dumb about it. Sure, man.

Jason: this one is on me, but I love a reader who's just off-handedly disrespectful to him. I always pair him with the brats lol I think he handles that well, by which I mean he strips it down to bone raw frankness which is heady and intimidating (metaphorically, I mean, but also strips down as in naked, I guess). He's quippy, also, as a general rule, but that's two way banter so I don't count it.

Tim: horrible part 2. See: loves to make you cry. See: Loves using toys on you. See: loves torturing you. His nudes are not even explicit, they're just suggestive, but you know intimately what he looks like, so the mere suggestion is enough to drive you mad. And then his fascination with you is never ending. It's a cocktail for great and tortuous diversion.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Dick: soooo talkative this man will not shut up. You're like, my man, you've been speaking for two hours straight, doesn't your throat need any lubrication? And he's like, you're right and swallows when you come. He's a moaner, I think, but not any louder than average. Will play it up if he sees the neighbour eyeing you in the hallway tho lol

Jason: Grunts and gasps and overall very throaty. He murmurs a lot of stuff into your skin. He's not loud, but his voice is a spear right down your groin. He likes speaking against your ear and sometimes it's all you hear. If you top him, and with some very precise loosening, you can get him moaning so so pretty, but it's pretty rare.

Tim: bitch has the most obscene little whimpers. It activates apex predator instinct on you immediately, like a switch being flipped. It's impossible not to bite him when he starts giving the short, breathy moans. Sounds so needy, and when he gets like that, he can barely string a sentence together, which is just mind blowing considering who he is.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Dick: I think Dick has a COMPLICATED relationship with his body. Perhaps it's me projecting a little because I cannot imagine being such a beautiful man and being able to cope with it. First vector to the issue is the fact that this man knows his body from the tip of his toes to the last strand of hair on his head. He is much more in touch with every muscle in his body than the vaaaast majority lf the world, and he has been so since very early in his life. You know that quote from Ursula K. Le Guin, I think, about how dogs don't really conceptualise their size, and cats are the complete opposite, they know exactly where they begin and end and that's why they seem like water sometimes? And then she says dancers also know exactly what they look like, because what they look like is what they do. And that's exactly him, as an acrobat and as a vigilante both. And though he doesn't care much for it, he also knows exactly how well he is regarded for possessing the body that he does. It is flattering, yes, but it is objectifying also. There's not so much the worry that people won't look any deeper than his looks because well, most of the time he doesn't want them to look, and also his loved ones regularly bypass his handsomeness and treat him as a person, so he knows he can live beyond that. Then there is the matter of his continued sexual assault at the hands of Catalina, and the subsequent objectification she subjected him to for the weeks following that first time at the rooftop, which would irrevocably change his relationship to his body. I don't think she ruins it for him, but he does develop, like, a very deep awareness of the power he holds and how easily that can be taken away. There's a lot of deliberation behind his every move, and when he cannot put that much thought into his actions, he freaks. It's also kinda why I headcanon him being so enthralled by so many dub-conish situations, I think it provides him with a playground in which he can explore the extents of his desires and what acting on them means while acknowledging the harm they may create, thus liberating him from the pressure of the worry or the not engaging altogether. I think an instance of mutual non consent (or plain noncon of you, but I don't think most versions of him have it in them) would absolutely obliterate him, and do a lot of bad to his psyche in a way Jay and Tim could withstand much better. He'd think it a moral failure, in a way the other two could resolve, but he'd never forgive himself. It's a point of no return, for Grayson.

Jason: he finds porn really distasteful. He would honest to god rather pay to watch two people go at it than look at a film. He just can't appreciate it for what it is—the stories are corny, the dialogue is cringe, etc etc. I genuinely think my man is on the aspec to some level. He's got a healthy libido, he likes having sex, but it's very person specific. I suppose I'd say demisexual, but I do think he can have casual sex but it's a VERY rare thing for him to feel sexual attraction like that right from the get go.

Tim: he enjoys cross dressing, but he won't go out like that. It's a very personal thing, to him. He strikes me as a dabbler in genderfluidity. If there's something there, he doesn't really care to examine it. He's good at being a man and he's comfortable with it, too, so there's that. But with you, he can just try it out. Of course it's fun to fuck you with a skirt on, but it's not a sex-based thing. And, unrelated but he watches hentai unironically because man's a weeb.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I don't rlly understand this question sbhdhd all those suits are skin tight I think you can tell. I assume this is about cock size cuz we all know Dick's got an ass and Jason's vice president of the perfect titties club with nic coughlan so.

Dick: I think he's a little bigger than usual but nothing that'd give you pause. Well, maybe a little. It's enough to think "that's just unfair" but not to be appalled. Very pretty. Leans slightly to the left. It's got some heft to it, but I wouldn't comment on its girth, and it's very expressive (shshdj?). It twitches a lot, is what I mean.

Jason: fat. So so fat. Fat, heavy, and uncut. Coupled with his full bush—instantly mouthwatering. This one does make you blink a couple times in astonishment. The type that makes you say I don't know if I can't take this but by god, I'm gonna try. He probably has to prep you a decent amount before you can both be comfortable with him inside you. It really fills you up, though and the stretch is craaaazy. Also good balls.

Tim: perfectly average length, longer than it is girthy. Oddly straight. Stupidly pink. Rosy as fuck. Looks like he paid for someone to do his blush this morning, etc. Circumcised. The head is perfect, you always fall for it when he asks you to let him put in just the tip because you like it so much.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Dick: high, like, a bit of a concern type of high. The thing with him is you get him started and you both got time? That's your day. Good fucking luck getting out of there. And then he's the sort of man that can't quite keep his hands to himself also, so it spirals pretty fast because it's hard not to want him when you know he's good and tasty and ready for you.

Jason: Pretty normal. He will be the one to say no, let's just cuddle a couple of times. I think he likes the moment of non-sexual affection a bit more, though they are not in competition. He's got a healthy libido and a fuckton of stamina, so it may seem like a lot at times. He'll fall hook line and sinker every time you set out to seduce him, but he'll drag out the start a lot. He's a fan of foreplay anyway.

Tim: Tim can go weeks without having sex if he's got something to be absorbed in. He'll forgo having sex if necessary, as well, even though he likes it lots. It's kind of how like people forget to eat or drink while they're working and then when they look up and realize they haven't eaten since breakfast and it's 8pm they're ravenous. That's Tim. He will blink and the onslaught of pent up horniness will hit him, and he's like, oh I gotta fuck you for several days straight now. You kinda have to needle him to fuck otherwise if he's got a project going on, and he always stops a moment to get you bouncing on his lap, but you're done and he goes right back to work. When he's got free time, he's such a damn distraction, though. God forbid you don't have any time for him.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Dick: Depends on how tired he's feeling. He usually really refuses to go and its kinda cute seeing him fight with himself when his eyelids are dropping and he's barely kissing you anymore

Jason: he stays awake waaaay past you, likes to watch you as you sleep against him or beside him

Tim: very, but again, you gotta cradle him and lull him

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #dc imagine #satplotdb #the tags make this look insane it's not im just mentioning stuff

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clementine-thedestroyer · 1 year ago

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Kinktober day 13/14: Monsterfucking + blood - Childe/Foul Legacy Transformation x reader

Warnings/tags: Monsterfucking, his dick is like 14 inches, fem!reader. Once Childe transforms, Foul Legacy gets it/its pronouns. Blood is mentioned, unrealistic sex, Foul Legacy is kind of horror movieified. Slight dub con. It sticks its tongue down your throat. You bleed from multiple things. Mentions of breeding too.

Reader really wants Childe to fuck her in his Foul Legacy transformation.

The first time you asked Childe to fuck you in his foul legacy form, he said no.

Immediately shut you down. Outright refused. Wouldn’t even let you start up with a word of argument- he was so violently opposed to the idea- convinced there was no way you could take that version of him, in any way.

But you were, if anything, stubborn. You were sure you could handle it! You knew you could! And you showed Childe that every opportunity you got- stretching yourself wider and wider till you could nearly take your whole hand. A proud grin on your face as you straddled him- giving him the perfect view to see exactly how much you could take.

You were just so determined to prove to Childe that you could handle it- and no matter how many times he told you “No. It would destroy you.” you persisted. Eventually wearing down his walls enough to just get him to have an open conversation about the topic.

You were curled up against Childe’s side, looking up at him as he stuttered in exasperation and desperately tried to explain to you just how bad of an idea this was. “It’ll break you- it'll rip you apart!”

“No. It won’t. I showed you I could take it, so you gotta at least come up with a new excuse.” You responded, huffing.

“It’s still a bad idea! Being exposed to that much abyssal energy is dangerous! It’s no-“ You cut him off, a bit of pride rising in your chest as you revel in having anticipated this argument beforehand. “I talked to Dottore. He said it’s fine.”

Childe frowns, choosing to set the whole bringing-a-mad-man-into-your-sexlife thing aside for later, and instead focusing on the current subject. “I don’t believe him, he’s not exactly trustworthy.”

“He’s competent.”

“He’s a psychopath.”

“But a competent one.”

Childe sighs, angling your head and looking into your eyes as he speaks in a more serious tone. “You don’t understand. When I’m like that- Foul Legacy isn’t me. I’m not able to control myself- it’s all instincts, there’s no self control, there’s no thinking, only doing. It’s-it’s like I’m an animal. And I don’t want you to see me like that and be… scared of me.”

You, very calmly and methodically, explain to him: That. Is. Exactly. What. You. Want.

After that night, it still takes another week's worth of convincing before you get him to agree, and then another week of prep before the big day. And when it finally comes, you can’t help but feel a twinge of regret over not listening to Childe’s warnings. Because oh holy shit. That’s a lot bigger than you had been expecting-

You had seen Foul Legacy before, of course, but only from far away. Up close was a whole new thing. It was 10 feet. Easily. Childe Foul Legacy absolutely towered over you, you couldn’t hide how you trembled and practically cowered underneath its watch. Dressed intricately in an array of dark purples and reds, purple sparks crackled and fizzled in the air surrounding it. The only hint of Childe remaining was the messy nest of ginger hair that stuck out from behind Foul Legacy’s mask (face? You couldn’t tell).

You understood what Childe meant. This wasn’t him, this was Foul Legacy.

“Is this what you wanted?”

You flinch as you hear Foul Legacy speak, forcing your head into a shaky nod. Its voice is deep, scratchy, and barely recognizable as Childe’s. Despite the words clearly ringing through the room, there’s no movement from its mask.

“Good.”

You could’ve sworn Foul Legacy teleported to infront of you. One moment it was across the room, the next, its black claws found your hips, effortlessly lifting you up and tossing you onto the mattress.

You landed with a soft “thump”, getting no to time to catch your breath before Foul Legacy’s hands are already back on you. Its claws dig into your hips- tiny rivulets of blood flowing from where the razor sharp points pierces your skin- and it lifts.

A startled yelp comes out of your throat as your lower body is lifted up and Foul Legacy moves its head between your legs. You hardly get a chance to scream in horror as its mouth opens- a long, thick, dark purple tongue that immediately dragged roughly over your clit.

You gasped, hands flying to cover your mouth as Foul Legacy ground its tongue against your clit. You rut your hips upwards, whimpering at the way its claws dug deeper into the fat of your hips in warning.

“Childe- Childe please!” You babbled, crying and grabbing at the sheets as you were forced to take the near painful grind of Foul Legacy’s tongue against your clit. It was too much, but it wasn’t enough, and the more Foul Legacy went on, the harder you sobbed, eventually, a painful orgasm crashing into you like a freight train.

Foul Legacy’s tongue continued to rub against you- working you through your orgasm till you were once again squirming in overstimulation.

You didn’t get any time to recover before you were once again dropped down onto the mattress- hazily worrying about the blood ruining the sheets before you froze.

There was no way. There was no way that was going to fit inside of you. It was at least 14 inches, for Christ's sake. And why the hell was it thicker than your upper arm?

You hastily pushed yourself up, opening your mouth to call out Childe’s name- only to have your ankles grabbed and shoved up past your head- your body now completely bent in half.

You cried out and squeezed your eyes shut, shaking as you felt that same long tongue flicker across were Foul Legacy’s bloody claws were holding your ankles- shivering as you felt it lick the blood up- eventually moving to the punctures on your hips and lapping up the blood that ran down your skin.

By the time you cracked your eye open, Foul Legacy had finished with the blood- bitting, licking, and sucking across your thighs as it made its way closer and closer to your still sensitive pussy.

You bucked your hips away, squirming and begging as you tried to get through to Childe.

“No no no no- Childe! I’m too sensitive! You were too rough! Don’t use your tongue again!!”

Foul legacy looked up at you, an angry growl and tight ting of the claws at your wrists was all you needed to be frightened back into compliance.

You bit your cheek and looked away, a whiny whimper escaping from your throat as the head of Foul Legacy’s monstrous cock rubbed against your sore clit.

Well- at least it listened to you-

Although you weren’t sure you were grateful once it started pushing in. No matter how wet you had been, it would’ve hurt either way.

You couldn’t help it, you screamed. loud and pained until Foul Legacy shoved its tongue down your open mouth, muffling your screams as the large muscle wiggled its way past the muscles at the back of your throat, leaving you sobbing and gagging around it as the painful stretch of its cock only grew worse.

All the while, you were staring up. Not at your boyfriend, but at whatever he had become.

Tears flowed freely from your eyes as you struggled to breath around the tongue intent on making its way down your throat. The lack of oxygen at least partially distracted you from the burning stretch of your hole.

Foul Legacy didn’t remove its tongue from your mouth until you were too lost in pleasure to care about the pain. You couldn’t help but scream- the way Foul Legacy’s cock bullied it’s way inside of you- going deeper and deeper with each thrust, till it could bottom out easily with each thrust-

You were absolutely leaking around its cock, babbling and clenching as each of Foul Legacy’s thrusts sent the bed rocking and you bouncing.

You were too far gone to even care when you looked down- seeing Foul Legacy’s cock covered in blood as It roughly thrusted in and out- growling things about breeding you, filling you up, telling you that you’d make such a strong mother for its offspring.

Even when you came, Foul legacy didn’t stop, fucking you through not just that orgasm- but another one after it. By the time Foul Legacy finally did finish, you were hardly more than a fucked out mess beneath it. It’s hips stuttering and grinding into you as it filled you with waves and waves of cum- till it spilled out from your pussy, even while you were still stretched out on its cock.

Even then, Foul Legacy didn’t pull out, it kept you on its cock, curling its massive body around you protectively as you fell asleep almost immediately.

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

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sundew199 · 24 days ago

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I'll love you forever

tags: zoro x reader, no p/n's used, heavy angst, mentions of blood, death?

A quiver in his lip so violent that he couldn’t stop it, the small sucks of air doing nothing to stop the heavy burning tears to breach past his eye, blood dripping from his palm. But it wasn’t his blood, and what Zoro wouldn’t give in this moment to change that, make it his and not yours.

How had he let this happen?

How had he been so careless to not keep his senses alert for you.

It was a battle yes, and you could hold your own as well as he could but he couldn’t lose you. And yet he hadn't done enough to keep that from happening.

“Zoro��”

The rapid beating of his heart froze at the sound of his name leaving your throat so weakly, the shaky smile you gave him as you used the last of your strength to barely cup the side of his face.

“You’re gonna be okay, just don’t move so much, okay?”

Swallowing the heavy lump in his throat, somehow managing a smile to reassure you, but what would that do as he watched the life begin to fade from your eyes. But you nodded, fingers slipping from his cheek and his hand instantly grabbing yours to keep it there, selfishly absorb whatever warmth was left in your touch.

“Zoro…I'm tired.”

He frowned and finally let the tears fall, refusing to hide the sobs breaking the top of his throat trying to answer you back, bottom lip quivering even harder now.

“I know, I am too sweetheart, but you gotta stay awake for me, okay? I’ve got Sanji getting Chopper, just - hold on.”

For me.

You smiled so weakly and he knew why. You always found it so sweet when he referred to the arrogant cook by his real name, instead of whatever nickname he came up with and Zoro felt something inside him break further, shatter into tinier pieces. He couldn’t lose you.

He couldn’t lose you.

It wasn’t fair.

“Zoro, I love you…so much…you’re the best thing that’s happened to me.”

All he could do was nod and squeeze his one good eye shut, pressing your fading warm hand harder on his cheek, barely turning to kiss the inside of your wrist, a tear from his eye landing on your cold skin. This couldn’t be happening, he’s lost so much already, why did the world feel the need to take more from him? What sins had he not atoned for to have the source of his comfort and future ripped away from him.

“And you’re the best thing that’s happened to me, I’m going to get you out of here, I promise.” Breaking into the smallest smile, mouth trembling with the realization that his words might be in vain.

The serenity that occupied your face quickly washed away hearing his words, letting out a sniffle. Zoro opened his eye to see you crying with a less happy looking smile on your face; the one he was unfortunately so familiar with.

“It’s okay, I’m so thankful for you Zoro-“

“Stop talking like that!” Hissing back at you through a sob, clenching your smaller hand in his desperately, the entirety of his body shaking as he looped his other arm underneath from where you lay across his thighs, to you to hold you closer. The tears flowed faster down both of your cheeks, the sickening realization setting in, turning inescapable.

“I’m not losing you, I’m not! Just hold on, for me, please.” Pleading with you through the violent tears and sobs that were so hushed but harsh, pressing a kiss to your blood stained forehead and staining the black bandana still tightly tied around his head as it dipped to press against your forehead briefly.

A choking cough ripped through your throat, a trickle of blood running down the corner of your mouth, suddenly so much paler, fastening the pace of his beating heart as he looked down at you.

“Thank you...I’ll love you forever Roronoa Zoro,” managing to thumb over his bottom lip that momentarily stopped trembling, caressing the part of his face that you used to idly when laying in bed with him, something that was so routine between the two of you, something that Zoro feared in this very moment he took for granted. You gave him one finally smile, going limp in his arms.

“Stop, don't do that! I told you to hold on, FUCK!” Shaking you to get your attention, rapidly breathing and refusing to acknowledge the total lack of light in your face and eyes, squeezing the hand he hadn’t let go of and pressing his forehead to yours, pressing his trembling lips to yours, a futile effort in hopes that his touch would bring you back to him.

You were lifeless, limp and useless and Zoro couldn’t take it, wouldn't accept it. He sobbed like he did when he was child after loosing Kuina, slowly rocking back and forth on his knees, cradling your body to him even though he knew you were gone.

"I'm sorry."

#roronoa zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro #op zoro #op roronoa zoro #zoro x you #zoro x reader #one piece zoro #one piece roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x you #one piece #angst

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chillinglyadventurous · 2 months ago

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I knew you’d find me

Ford takes care of a badly injured reader after Weirdmageddon.

Tags: blood, severe injuries, fluff

After everything, Ford found you. He found you lying outside the Shack, just as broken as the building was. He had scooped you up in his arms and carried you inside, fighting tears. You were covered in blood. There was a nasty gash across your forehead. No wonder you were unconscious.

He laid you gingerly in his room. You were alive. That was all that mattered. He knew he needed to get back to Stanley who didn’t remember who he or anyone else was, but he needed to clean you up first. He was as gentle as he could be as he mopped up the blood on your face. He was gentle as he removed your dirty clothes and changed you into something more comfortable. You’d need it when you woke up. Once you were sufficiently cleaned, he knew there wasn’t much else he could do for you.

After Stan was taken care of, his memory restored with Mabel’s scrapbook, he came to you again. Ford laid beside you, stroking your hair. He kissed your cheeks, hating himself for what he brought upon you. He may not have done this to you directly, but he was the cause. Ford was thankful, however, that you were alive.

His hand rested on your chest. He counted your heartbeat and breaths simultaneously. Traumatic brain injury was an understatement. You’d have a long road ahead of you. He knew it and he swore to your unconscious form that he would be with you every step of the way.

Ford stayed beside you for hours, the room silent except for your steady breathing. Each beat of your heart was a reminder that, no matter how broken things felt, there was still hope. He couldn’t stop running through the events that led to this moment, cursing himself for not being able to protect you. His mind whirled with possibilities—what could have happened differently, how he could have avoided putting you in harm’s way. None of it mattered now. You were here, and you were alive. He’d have to focus on that, even if the guilt weighed him down.

Eventually, he stood, brushing a hand through his silver hair. He needed to prepare for when you woke up if you woke up. The thought hit him like a punch to the gut, but he pushed it aside. You would wake up. You had to. No, there was no if. There couldn’t be an if.

Over the next few days, Ford stayed by your side, except when he was checking on Stan. Stanley was himself again. He was still recovering from the memory gun, but Ford couldn’t quite focus on him. Not when you were still lying in his bed, unresponsive.

Stan came into the room a few times, casting worried glances in your direction. Despite the gruff front he put up, Ford knew Stan cared about you, too. “[Y/N]’s tough,” Stan muttered one afternoon, as if trying to convince both himself and Ford. “Just gotta give it time.” Ford nodded, but his chest ached with the fear of losing you. Every hour felt like a lifetime.

Finally, on the fifth day, there was a flicker of movement. It was subtle, just the faintest twitch of your hand, but Ford saw it. His breath caught in his throat. He leaned forward, his heart hammering in his chest. “[Y/N],” he whispered, barely daring to believe it. “Can you hear me?”

Your eyelids fluttered, and a small, pained groan escaped your lips. It was the most beautiful sound Ford had ever heard.

“You’re okay,” he breathed, tears of relief stinging his eyes. “You’re going to be okay. I’m right here.”

You winced in pain. Ford reached for your hand, his grip gentle but firm. “Don’t try to move too much. You’re hurt, but you’re going to be alright. I promise.”

Your lips parted as if you wanted to speak, but all that came out was a hoarse whisper. Ford immediately grabbed a glass of water from the bedside table and helped you take a sip.

“Ford,” you croaked, your voice weak, but filled with relief. The sound of his name from your lips made his heart swell. He leaned down and kissed your forehead, careful to avoid the bandages.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, his voice trembling.

You managed a small smile, though it was strained with pain. “I knew you’d find me.”

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #ford pines #stanford pines #ford pines x reader #stanford pines x reader #chillinglyadventurousfics

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dixons-sunshine · 9 months ago

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Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: While hanging out with Daryl, an old friend decided to pay you an unexpected visit. Not wanting to cut your visit short, Daryl offers to tag along to the supermarket. You agree, which lead to the funniest but best shopping experience of your life. And the hangout afterwards turned into a night you'd never forget.

Genre: Fluff, some angst (mentions of Daryl's dad and his scars—reader knows about his home life.)

Era: Pre outbreak

Warnings: Swearing, blood (from reader's period), mentions of abuse, mentions of Merle being an asshole to reader and Daryl, allusions to money problems (reader chooses the cheapest foods while in the store and lives in a trailer park), reader's mom is implied to be a single parent.

Word count: 4.6k (this got way longer than I expected)

A/n: Honestly my second favourite story I've written. It's not great, but I loved the concept very much and writing about Daryl before the apocalypse turned out to be so much fun! I definitely need to write more about pre-apocalypse Daryl.

Requests are open for any TWD requests if y'all wanna send any!

Part two

—

“I'm telling you, you're overreacting. How was I supposed to know that it was gonna go flying in your direction?”

“It wasn't even supposed to go flyin' like tha' in the first place. I've been tryin' to teach ya to fish fer months now, but yer hopeless. Stick to buyin' fish from the market fer yer safety and mine.”

You threw one of the pillows on the couch you were sitting on in his direction, trying to look offended but failing miserably due to the burst of laughter falling from your lips. Daryl easily caught the pillow and chuckled, a boyish grin on his face. He flopped down next to you on the couch, keeping the pillow on his lap as he watched you trying to calm your laughter.

“You're mean, you know that? I'm not hopeless, fishing is just hard,” you said with a smile, looking at him through your eyelashes.

The smile you wore and the sparkle in your eyes made Daryl's heart skip a beat. His mouth suddenly felt dry and he felt an overwhelming urge to close the distance between the two of you—and urge he's had for months now—but he refrained, his father's deprecating words about his 'nonexistent' worth echoing in the back of his mind.

Daryl shook the thoughts from his mind and focused back on you, your smile he loved so much still gracing your features. “Nah, it ain't tha' hard,” he replied, resting his arm on the back of the couch.

“Says the fish whisperer,” you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest in mock anger, but the huge smile on your face ruined your facade.

Daryl couldn't help the amused laugh that escaped his mouth. “Fish whisperer?” he asked, a crooked smile on his face as he looked at you. “Tha's what yer callin' me?”

“Yeah, you're a fish whisperer. Every time I try to catch a fish, you lean down to the water and tell the fish to be difficult so that I can't catch them and you get the satisfaction of watching me fail. I've got you all figured out, Dixon,” you joked, a teasing grin on your face.

Daryl shook his head at your ‘accusation’ and chuckled. “Ya got me,” he responded. “Sorry ya had to find out like this. The fish and I jus' have this unspoken bond, ya know? They do whatever I tell 'em to.”

“I knew it,” you replied playfully, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Apologise right now.”

“'M sorry,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “I'll talk to the fish and get them to go easier on ya.”

“Thank you,” you laughed in playful triumph.

“Yer welcome,” he replied with a shake of his head, the crooked smile still on his face. “Now are we gonna watch tha' movie ya promised or are we jus' gonna go back and forth over your lack of fishin' skills?”

“Yeah, I just gotta use the bathroom really quick. You can pick out a movie in the meantime,” you acknowledged, getting up from the couch once you saw Daryl nod.

You headed into the bathroom of your small trailer home and closed the door, heading towards the toilet to tend to your business. However, as soon as you sat down, you saw blotches of blood on the inside of your underwear. You groaned inwardly at the horrible timing of your period's arrival and reached for the box of tampons you kept located near the toilet. However, as soon as you opened the box, you audibly groaned at the sight of only one tampon remaining. You didn't have any pads either due to your mom having used the last one a week prior, so you'd have to make a run to the store.

You finished your business, grabbing a fresh pair of underwear from the laundry basket you had yet to take back to your room as well as a pair of pants, before going back out to Daryl. He patiently waited for you on the couch, the movie he picked out paused and waiting to be watched. He fiddled with the remote in his hands before looking up at you when he heard your approaching footsteps. He gave you a small smile before frowning, instantly noticing the ashamed look on your face.

“Wha's wrong?” he questioned, getting up from the couch and taking a step towards you.

“Nothing! It's nothing, I just...” you trailed off, unsure how to go about telling Daryl about why you needed to cut the visit short.

“Ya jus' wha'?” he asked anxiously, unnerved by your sudden awkwardness. You were never nervous around him, so the sudden awkwardness baffled him.

“I have to go into town. I need something urgently and it can't really wait. I'm sorry,” you apologized sincerely, your tone holding sadness at the prospect of the visit you had to cut short.

Daryl's heart sank at your words. He enjoyed hanging out with you and really didn't want to go home yet. He was sure his dad wasn't passed out from drinking yet and he didn't want to accidentally set him off into another rage and deeply pay the price for it, so he wanted to wait it out here with you. But now he most likely wouldn't be able to.

“Wha' do ya need?” he asked, nervously chewing on his bottom lip.

You hesitated for a moment. You liked Daryl, and not just platonically, either. Despite his rough exterior, he was undeniably sweet, kind, caring, affectionate and so much more. He knew how to make you laugh even if he preferred to be serious most of the time and he always treated you with the utmost respect. But you also knew that both his brother and his father were misogynistic pricks. They didn't know the first thing about women and feminine needs, so they definitely didn't teach Daryl about any of that. You didn't want Daryl to look at you differently or be grossed out by you because of your period. You wouldn't be able to handle that.

“Hey, ya alrigh'?” Daryl asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. His eyebrows were furrowed in a deep frown, his eyes flickering between your eyes in concern.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I'm fine. I just zoned out for a second.”

“Ya didn't answer my question from before. Wha' do ya need in town?” he repeated his question.

You swallowed nervously before sighing. “I'm on my period,” you whispered, heat creeping up to your face. “And I'm out of tampons.”

Realisation struck Daryl like a ton of bricks. “Oh,” he mumbled, awkwardly fiddling with his hands.

In all honesty, Daryl wasn't weirded out by you saying that, but he didn't know how to go about the information you gave him. He only had the tiniest grain of knowledge about women's periods—thanks to the many women his dad brought home—but he knew that freaking out about it wasn't the way to go. You were one of the most important people in the world to him, and by god he would do anything to ensure that you knew that you could go to him whenever you needed anything, even for something like you needing period products.

“Ya want me to give ya a ride to the store?” he asked, completely taking you by surprise.

“No, I don't want to trouble you. I'll just walk,” you declined his offer, nervously hugging yourself in an attempt to appear nonchalant and simultaneously ward off the pain that would soon stab through your lower abdomen.

“I ain't lettin' ya walk, especially this close to dark. God knows what trouble is waitin' if ya set foot outside this trailer park alone. Tha' new motorcycle gang likes to hang 'round here and I dun' want them to get any ideas with ya,” Daryl replied steadfastly, his mind already set on escorting you to the store.

You smiled at Daryl's worry towards you. It was rare to see his softer side, but when you did, you always cherished it. Daryl Dixon truly was unlike any man you've ever met.

“Fine,” you relented, your voice adapting the playful tone from earlier. “You can drive me, but just so you know, I'm taking advantage of your hospitality. I need to buy some groceries anyways, but I never got around to it because it would be too much to carry if I walked.”

Daryl's lips twitched up into a half smile and nodded. “Alrigh',” he agreed. “But yer buyin' me a Coke fer my valiant efforts of simply drivin' ya to the store.”

“Deal,” you laughed lightly, unaware of the effect it had on Daryl. His heart quickened at the sweet sound of your melodic laughter and he had to duck his head to hide the blush that formed on his face.

“Let's go.” He motioned for you to follow him and you obliged after grabbing the grocery list, following him out of your trailer and over to his neighbouring trailer. The two of you quietly made your way over to his beat down truck, a vehicle he was 'graciously' being lent by his older brother. Or as Daryl once told you, Merle simply dropped it off one day after getting his motorcycle and just seemed to forget about its existence. So now the truck unofficially belonged to the younger Dixon brother.

You opened the passenger side of the vehicle and got in, closing the door behind you. Daryl got into the driver's side and started the truck, his eyes glancing around at the wrappers and few empty cigarette boxes that littered the floor. “Sorry 'bout the mess.”

“It's fine,” you reassured him. “It certainly doesn't look worse than my trailer when my mom and I have been too lazy to clean up.”

Daryl quietly nodded and started the drive to the store, pulling out of the trailer park. The drive was mostly spent in silence until about five minutes in when a bunch of motorcycles whirled past the truck in the opposite direction. Daryl visibly stiffened after one particular motorcycle drove past and you frowned, placing your hand on his arm to try and ease his tension. At the unexpected action, Daryl tensed slightly but soon relaxed under your tender touch.

“Who was it? The guy on the motorcycle? You seem to know him,” you questioned, earning a disgruntled sigh in response.

“'S my brother,” he responded after a moment's hesitation. “He's back in town fer a while but I dun' know why. He hasn't bothered to come see me.”

“Merle's back?” you asked, trying to keep the distaste out of your voice, but failing miserably, causing a small smile to fall on Daryl's face.

It was no secret to Daryl that you despised his brother. The few limited interactions you had with the man were enough to fuel your distaste. Merle either made sexual passes at you, insulted you or questioned your intentions with Daryl. When you didn't fall for his advances or insults, he'd take a jab at your friendship with his younger brother, claiming that Daryl was "pussy whipped" and that you were taking advantage of him. Daryl always immediately shut him down, but that never stopped Merle. Each time it took walking back into your trailer to get the man to shut up.

“Yeah,” Daryl confirmed, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “I think he joined tha' new motorcycle gang. He's a stupid son of a bitch, my brother. Never learns his lesson, but wha' can I do? He ain't ever gonna listen to me.”

“He's a grown man. He'll hopefully learn from his mistakes,” you started, knowing your words probably weren't much comfort for him right now. “If you want, I can punch some sense into him. I've been wanting to punch him for a while now.”

That seemed to lighten Daryl's mood a bit. His lips twitched into a half smile. “Nah, but thanks fer the kind offer. I'll let ya know if I ever need ya to punch him fer me.”

“Please do. I'll practice and everything,” you joked, playfully punching the air in front of you for added effect, eliciting a small chuckle from him.

“Alrigh', Bruce Lee, we're here,” he laughed quietly, parking the car outside the store.

The two of you got out of the truck and moved to the store. Once inside, Daryl grabbed a shopping cart and leaned his arms on the handle bar, looking at you expectantly. “Where to first, boss lady?”

You giggled and took the grocery list from the back pocket of your jeans, unfolding the paper and starting your list. “We'll come back to the period things later. Let's get the necessities out of the way first.”

Daryl pushed the cart as he followed behind you, walking into one of the grocery aisles. “Tampons ain't a necessity?” he asked, curiously watching you search for the cheapest pasta before adding it to the cart.

You shrugged and walked on, hearing the squeaks from the wheels on the cart following closely behind. “It is, but not before food. I can always improvise or ask one of the neighbour ladies for it, but I don't want to ask for food.”

Daryl nodded, although you couldn't see him. “Yeah, tha's understandable,” he said, his eyes scanning over the products in the aisle.

You continued grabbing things on your list, adding them to the cart. You even grabbed two bags of chips and the Coke you promised Daryl, as well as a drink for yourself. After that, you made your way over to the feminine hygiene section and started looking over the various different choices, searching for your preferred items.

“Wha' the fuck?” you heard Daryl whisper behind you, prompting you to turn around and look at him. You giggled at the sight in front of you; Daryl holding a pack of pads whilst his eyes trailed over the different period products, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What?” you asked with a giggle, gaining Daryl's attention.

“Why the hell do y'all need so many different things fer yer pussy blood?” he asked bluntly, eliciting an amused laugh from you.

“First of all, don't call it pussy blood. That's disgusting. Second of all, it's all about preference. Some women prefer pads, others prefer tampons and other things. And not everyone is the same. Some women have heavier flows and some women need bigger tampons and pads than others,” you explained, amused at the deep frown Daryl wore.

Daryl nodded slowly. “Alrigh',” he started. “But still, it's a lot. Tampons, pads... And wha' the hell is a fuckin' diva cup? Y'all use tha' to make tea fer yer pussies or somethin'?”

“No,” you responded, laughing lightly at the confused man. “I don't know how a diva cup works because I've never used one, but it's for our periods. Like I said, preference. Some women prefer diva cups over pads and tampons.”

Daryl shook his head slightly and turned away from the shelves, focusing his eyes back on you. “Well, ya got whatever pads or tampons ya prefer? Or do ya use somethin' else that wasn't named in yer explanation?”

You rolled your eyes and smiled, amused. You grabbed a box of tampons, as well as a box of pads, and added them to the cart. “No, I use pads and tampons, don't worry.”

“Why would I worry?” Daryl asked, pushing the cart as the two of you walked over to pay for the groceries.

“I just meant that you didn't have to worry about there being any more "period product" surprises. I don't think you would've been able to handle it if I told you there was more,” you explained.

“Well... 'S there?” he asked hesitantly, chewing on his lower lip.

“Yeah.”

You walked ahead to the checkout aisle, leaving Daryl baffled behind you. He sped up to catch up to you, and together you started unloading the items.

“This was more than I bargained fer when I offered to come to the store with ya,” Daryl said, handing off items to be scanned.

“I said I would walk,” you replied nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders. “Would've spared you the headache you got from looking at all those different brands and stuff.”

“Nah, I'd take the headache over somethin' happenin' to ya. Walkin' alone ain't safe,” he retorted, giving you a stern look.

“I would've been fine.”

“Maybe, but I wouldn't risk it. Still ain't gonna risk it.”

“Ah, young love,” the lady working at the cash register interrupted, startling both you and Daryl. “You two lovebirds are absolutely adorable.”

Daryl ducked his head in embarrassment, a blush spreading across his face. You could feel your own face flush with heat as well.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, handing the owed amount over to the cashier before moving over to grab a few bags.

Daryl followed your lead and grabbed most of the bags. Together the two of you walked out of the store and over to his truck. You placed the bags in the back of the truck before getting into the passenger side, Daryl getting into the driver's side. He silently started up the vehicle and pulled out of the parking lot, starting the drive back to the trailer park.

“Thank you, by the way,” you said after a few minutes of silence, shifting Daryl's attention to you.

“Fer wha'?” he asked in confusion, shifting his eyes from the road to you and then back again.

“The ride. And for making me laugh. It was nice.”

“My confusion was amusin' to ya?” he asked with a small smile, glancing over to you.

“No, but the things you said were. Especially the thing about the diva cup. Comedy gold right there,” you said with a smile, gaining a quiet chuckle in return.

“Glad I could make ya laugh,” he replied, before a look of realisation crossed his face. “Wait, ain't ya supposed to be in pain? From wha' I know, period's are supposed to hurt.”

At his words, realisation dawned on you. You could suddenly feel a dull ache in your lower abdomen, a telltale sign of a greater pain awaiting you in a few hours. You just hoped that you had some ibuprofen left back at home.

“I'm fine for now,” you reassured him. “The pain's manageable.”

Daryl nodded. The rest of the drive was spent in silence, save for the rumble of the engine and the wind coming through the open windows. You stared outside at the rising moon, the stars starting to light up the approaching night sky. The trailer park soon came into view and Daryl pulled up to your trailer instead of his, putting the vehicle into park. However, instead of getting out, Daryl tensed up as he stared ahead at his trailer.

You followed his line of sight and saw what he was looking at; his father leading a woman into the trailer. His father shut the door behind him, effectively cutting off your line of sight. You turned to Daryl and saw his jaw clenched in anger, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as his mind seemed to be in another place. You doubted that Daryl even remembered you were still in the truck with him.

“You can stay over if you want,” you said quietly, snapping Daryl from his wandering thoughts. “My mom's working the night shift down at the bar. I've got the trailer to myself tonight and I wouldn't mind having some company.”

Daryl hesitated for a moment. “Ya sure? I can go home. Doubt the old man would notice me slippin' in anyway.”

You nodded your head at him. “I'm sure. Come on.”

Daryl followed you from the truck and into your trailer, carrying most of the bags so that you could unlock the door. Once you were inside and he placed the bags down, he silently admired you as you grabbed a bowl to pour the bought chips into.

Daryl appreciated the fact that you never pried. He had told you once about his father and what he did to him because you'd accidentally caught sight of one of the scars on his back. However, instead of pity, you offered him comfort and understanding, telling him that you were there if he ever needed to talk to someone or needed an escape. You never brought up his home life or his scars, and only ever talked about it if he initiated the sensitive conversation first, which was rare. Because of that, Daryl was convinced that you were an angel in human form. You understood him in a way nobody did, and he would forever be grateful for the chance he got to know you.

You could feel Daryl's intense gaze on you and you could feel your face heat up. Daring to be confident for a moment, you glanced up and locked eyes with him. “See something you like?”

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed in agreement, completely capturing you off guard. You inhaled sharply and tried to slow your racing heart.

Daryl inwardly cursed himself. He hadn't meant to let that slip, but he had gotten so lost in his thoughts and admiration of you that he acted before properly thinking. He blushed for what felt like the thousandth time that day and ducked his head, finding the floor very interesting all of a sudden.

“Well,” you started after clearing your throat, grabbing the bowl of chips and the drinks you bought for you both and walking the short distance into the living room, Daryl hot on your tail. “I'm glad you enjoyed the view. It's my "I desperately need to wash my hair" look.”

Daryl chuckled but said nothing. He got comfortable on the couch, sitting beside you as you handed him the Coke you promised him. “Thanks,” he said, nudging his nose up at you in a nod. “How's yer stomach?”

“Surprisingly okay. I guess the pain decided to give me a break for now. I probably won't be so lucky tomorrow, though,” you responded.

You grabbed the remote and hit play on the movie that Daryl had picked out earlier before you went into town, the opening sequence playing loudly. However, about ten minutes into the movie, Daryl took the remote from you and paused it again, confusing you.

“Can I ask ya somethin'?” he asked unexpectedly, his face conveying how nervous he was.

“Of course,” you replied without hesitation, shifting on the couch until your body completely faced him.

“I dun'... I dun' really know how to ask ya this, and I really hope this won't ruin anythin' between us, but I need to know if ya feel the same,” Daryl nervously said, fiddling with his hands in his lap.

“Daryl, what-”

“Nah, let me finish, please. 'S jus'... Yer so perfect to me, y'know tha'? Yer so kind, so carin', so affectionate. Yer basically a ray of sunshine. Yer the complete opposite of me, and ya could spend yer time with someone who deserves ya, but ya choose to hang out with me. Even though 'm damaged goods and I ain't gonna be nothin' more than a dumb, redneck scum, ya always treat me like 'm this fine piece of priceless art or somethin', and I dun' get why. Yer-”

The sudden pressure of your lips against his instantly shut him up. His eyes widened for a moment before he closed them, his hands instinctively going to rest on your waist. The kiss was slow and hesitant, but loving and sweet at the same time. It was perfect and neither of you wanted it to end, but you soon pulled away, looking into Daryl's ocean coloured eyes.

“You're not damaged goods and you're not a dumb, redneck scum. Don't ever say that about yourself again, you hear me?” you told him quietly, your hands gently resting on his cheeks. After he nodded, you continued. “Where's all of this coming from? I'm not complaining at all, but it's kind of unexpected.”

“I've felt this way fer a while now,” he explained, taking one of your hands off of his face and playing with your fingers. “I never said anythin' because I didn't want to scare ya off, but after tha' lady called us 'lovebirds' and ya offered to let me stay over without question after ya saw my expression earlier... I dun' know, I guess I jus' needed to let ya know how I felt. Didn't know if ya'd feel the same, though.”

You smiled at him and leaned forward to press another kiss to his lips, this one more firm and sure than the first one. “I do feel the same,” you confirmed after you pulled away. “I just never thought you'd like me.”

“Guess we both wasted time not sayin' anythin' 'til now, huh?” he asked, giving you a boyish smile.

“Definitely,” you nodded in agreement, a huge smile on your face.

“I guess we have to thank yer time of the month fer this happenin',” Daryl said. “If it didn't start and we didn't go to the store, tha' lady never would've called us 'lovebirds' and we never would've seen my father and tha' woman enterin' the trailer, so ya wouldn't have asked me to stay over. I probably would've gone home by now if we didn't have to go to the store and probably would've never gotten the balls to say anythin'.”

“I never thought I would be this grateful for my period, but I am now,” you said, leaning your forehead against his.

Daryl closed the remaining gap between the two of you, the two of you descending into a slow, hungry kiss. You brought your arms around his neck and his arms encircled around your waist, bringing you closer into his arms. As the two of you got lost in the moment, you didn't hear the trailer door opening, too caught up in each other to hear anything else. However, the clearing of someone's throat startled you, the two of you practically jumping apart.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” your mom asked with a raised eyebrow, her hands on her hips as she looked over the two of you.

You looked over at Daryl, your face flaming with heat at being caught by your mom. Daryl's eyes widened as fear crossed his face, his breathing heavy from your previous actions. You turned your attention back to your mom and sighed.

“Mom, don't freak out. I promise I can explain.”

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