#knotting me with each one nice and slow
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wlw-cryptid · 2 years ago
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so what i'm hearing is you need some kind of eldritch butch with tentacles to milk you, judging by recent posting
listen. listen. yes
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luveline · 5 months ago
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this might be silly but i imagined the boys (marauders) playfully arguing over who gets to marry reader first and they’re just listing times they did these ridiculously romantic things to win the name of husband
“I’ve been thinking…” 
You’re focused on your keychain, but you hum to show you’re listening. Once you get to the end of this row, you can talk properly. 
Sirius sits beside you, his hands paused on either side of his own keyring. They’re technically alpha patterns made from knotted embroidery threads, but you and Sirius call them keychains. 
This is the second time he’s sat with you to make them, and it makes you so happy you could cry. Last Saturday he’d been sitting on the sofa as he usually does when you’re by the coffee table in the evenings, Remus at the other end, feet in his lap, when he touched your shoulder lightly and asked if he could try to make one with you. 
It’s definitely not an easy craft to teach, but it isn’t rocket science, either. Sirius is a quick learner, and his keychain looks very neat. 
“Would you wanna get married, someday?” he asks quietly. 
“Of course I would.” 
You put your string bobbins down. You’d answered without thinking, and the true answer is a little sad. Of course you wanna get married someday, but you’re not exactly in a conventional relationship. Marriages don’t tend to go four ways. 
“You know I wouldn’t have it in a church or anything, but we could still dress up. You could wear a white dress,” he says, looping a bobbin string under one of the anchors, knotting it, and moving on to the next. “I’d get you any dress you want.” 
“That would be nice,” you agree, leaning in to hug his side. You kiss his shoulder, lips pressed to a sleeve. 
“And then you could get divorced and marry me,” James says, backing into the room with a tray of drinks and snacks alike. He sets them down on the table behind your craft station, before rounding it, and sitting behind you to feel your shoulders. “Better yet, marry me first, and Sirius can go second.” 
“No, I’m going first,” Sirius says without worry. 
“You can’t just go first.” 
“Says who?” Sirius turns into your hugging to hug you back gently. 
“Me?” James says. “You can’t just decide that. What I want to marry you first?” 
“You haven’t asked me to get married.” 
You laugh at the ridiculousness of their conversation. There’s sincerity in it somewhere. 
They bicker about who’s doing what and where and who’s with who. You revel in the feeling of Sirius’ hand on your back moving a slow back and forth, each line of his fingers. You love his hands. 
“Babe,” James says eventually, “would you marry me first, please?” 
“Sirius asked first.” 
James groans. “Okay, but does Sirius deserve to be first?” 
“James,” you warn softly. 
“It’s fine,” Sirius says. “He’s kidding.” 
“I’m not kidding,” James says, though he is. “What has Sirius done for you to deserve you as I do? Who brings you a bouquet every Sunday?” 
Technically, the bouquet is from everyone, or so they say, but it is James who wakes up early for bread, milk, and flowers. 
“And who rearranges it? Who gives you your back rub every night?” James pulls you away from Sirius, your head dipping back against his thighs. His smile is catching. 
“Those are very nice things, Jamie, but Sirius takes good care of me too.” 
James cups your cheek. 
“I’m the one who kissed her first,” Remus says. You startle at his voice. He’d been quieter than Sirius, letting himself into the room, climbing over the arm to sit on the sofa behind Sirius. “Which was very romantic. Not sure if you remember.” 
You remember. 
“That disqualifies you from any more firsts,” Sirius says. 
“By that logic, you’re disqualified too,” James says. 
You flush and sit up properly. “I’m not marrying any of you because I’m not something to be argued over.” 
Again, you’re kidding around, but Sirius holds your arm to his side, tired enough to be affectionate. “Sorry,” he says, smiling, “I was just thinking about it.” 
You lean back against James’ legs. How lovely is that? You’re stressing over embroidery lines and he’s thinking of you at the courthouse together. 
“I’ll marry you,” Remus says, giving Sirius a nudge. “Yes?” 
“Yes please.” 
“See,” James says, “they’ll get married and we’ll get married, as I wanted.” 
“And when they’re married and you don’t get to call Remus your husband, you’ll be okay with that?” you ask. 
James frowns deeply. “Well, I hadn’t thought of it until now.” 
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stunie · 6 months ago
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˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ “DID YOU JUST FAKE THAT, PRINCESS?”
WINDBREAKER BOYS + FAKING AN ORGASM. ft. yamato endo, kiryuu mitsuki, & kaji ren x f!reader
content: explicit smut (18+), fem! reader, overstimulation, squirting, praise (genuine & mocking), degradation, teasing, dumbification, mild humiliation + corruption + dacryphilia + choking, fingering, cunninglingus, muffled (panties), doggy, mating press, wall sex, endo is mean, usage of pet names
mdni - 2.9K wc ; whew it ended up super long ! i had sm fun writing this one <3 as always, individual warnings are below
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YAMATO ENDO.
note: ooc, written before newer chapters were out, sorry >:
taking you like this has always been endo’s favorite way to ruin you. your pretty noises are muffled by the mattress, ass high and back arched in a futile attempt to ease the stretch of his cock. it’s so good, and he grabs your hips roughly, pulling you back to slam against his own. his pace is unrelenting, length able to reach the deepest parts inside your cunt as you squeal and tug at the sheets beneath you.
“promise i w-won’t do it again,” you crane your neck to gasp for air, apology coming out frantic and slurred, and your face burns when he laughs— laughs at your sincerity and at the way that your jaw falls slack at the slightest change in his angle. “you’re sorry?” his words come out mocking, relishing in the way your teary eyes clench shut as you try to fight the tension building up in your core— because you know good and well that you’re not allowed to cum until he says the word.
“yea, ‘m sor—”
“sorry’s not gonna cut it,” he spits, “gonna have to make up for it, pretty girl. try again.”
his hands come to push your back further down into the mattress, angling your ass higher for him to let him bully his cock into you harder. it’s so cute how endearing you are, teary eyes trying to focus and think despite the way his heavy cock is hitting so deep inside you, his pace as rough as ever and your head foggy and dizzy.
“i will,” you blurt, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap with each roll of his hips— “i will! i’ll make it up, please endo, ‘m gonna cum, i think ‘m gonna cum—”
“aw,” his tone is low and mocking, pace slowing down ever so slightly as his fingers come to wrap around your throat and apply pressure, “since you’re so cute, i’ll be nice today.”
“cum with me and i’ll let it go, yeah?” he pulls out, until just the tip is inside before he slams back into you. “gonna have to use your brain and match my pace.”
and you’re nodding as soon as the words leave his lips, not a trace of hesitation in the way your shaky hands come to spread your ass wider for him, just the way he likes it. endo feels his dick throb at just how cute you are, holding yourself wide open for him to ravage you as you blabber about how good he feels— how close you are to cumming.
“alrightt,” he lulls, “ready, doll?” his tone comes out amused, but you can’t tell, nodding so desperately as your hips start to jerk. in an instant, he’s picking up his pace, hitting so deep inside you that it makes your eyes roll back in your skull, endo fucking you completely senseless with each snap of his hips.
“e-endo—” you gasp when the hand around your neck moves to push your head down, allowing him to better leverage himself as he buries his cock into the spot that has you screaming. your eyes widen when he finally growls out the word, the word that lets the knot inside you snap as you gush around his cock, thighs reduced to a violent tremor.
“f-fuuck,” he groans when your walls squeeze and flutter wildly against him, his jaw clenching shut to grunt a “just like that.”
“that’s my fucking girl,” he slurs lazily, slowly dragging his cock in and out of you as your walls continue to flutter around the thickness, your chest heaving up and down from the intensity.
the praise makes your heart swoon even with your current state, eyes half lidded and heavy and your mind barely able to register the lewd noises coming from your dripping cunt.
“feel good now? making a mess all over me?”
“mmhm,” you nod mindlessly, tired arms reaching back to swipe at your cunt like clockwork. it was something endo had taught you the very first time he took you, and you’ve never failed to do it since. it’s usually about now when you collect the load that seeps out of your hole, and he’ll pull you onto his lap next, urging you to stick those fingers in your mouth and swirl your tongue around it.
he’s addicted to how good the sight of you swallowing his cum makes him feel, cock throbbing and aching— picturing those pretty lips wrapped around his length again. it’s always enough to rile him up again and again.
your tired fingers rub between your folds, collecting the slick, but something’s different. “h-huh?” you stutter, head craning back to look at your hand. it takes you a moment, innocent eyes squinting as you inspect your fingers— there’s nothing besides your own slick.
“oh, fuck,” endo laughs loudly, “i can’t believe it.”
he grabs your arm roughly, earning a surprised yelp from you as he flips you onto your back, pressing your thighs flush against your own chest, his body hovering over you with a hunger that sends a shiver straight down your spine.
“still so fucking innocent, huh? thought you knew me better than that.”
“i-i don’t understand..” your voice trails off, face burning with embarrassment because he’s always being so mean to you. it takes you by surprise when you feel it slap against your clit, your gaze finally shifting downwards to see his cock— throbbing and slick with your juices, thick precum collecting at the tip.
he really didn’t cum.
“oh, dumb girl,” he coos, “did you forget our agreement?”
he wishes he had whipped out his phone to record the sight of you. it’s adorable, your pretty body folded into a mating press, teary eyes desperately looking up at him as you whine and complain that he tricked you, that’s he’s not being fair, but all he can think about is how he wants to ruin that pussy that you have so clearly on display for him.
he pushes his length inside you all at once, tip kissing your cervix as your head falls back, sobbing that’s it’s too much for you. “aww,” endo feigns sympathy, leaning forward until his face hovers right over the side of your neck, “it’s just too bad you didn’t do a very good job matching my timing.”
he licks a slow, deliberate stripe down your neck and sucks— sucks hard before releasing the skin with a pop to admire the mark he’s planted on you. “since you couldn’t do that for me,” he starts, fingers running along your waist, “you don’t have any other choice but to let me use this pretty body of yours, don’t you?”
“gonna fuck you so stupid— ‘till your brain’s too mushy to think up any more little tricks.”
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KIRYUU MITSUKI.
“hey,” kiryuu slaps your cunt lightly, “i don’t remember teaching you to do that.”
his voice is gentle, almost unnervingly so as he pulls your back flush against his chest, hand coming to spread you open for him. “let’s try again.”
“j-just wanted more…kiryuu,” you whine when he’s slow to sink the first finger deep inside, pumping it in and out as his thumb comes to circle at your clit, the precision making your hips jerk and push against him.
“more?” his voice comes out directly besides your ear and it sends a strong shiver down your back, “you’re getting real greedy with me, princess.”
he obliges regardless, eyes gauging your reaction as he slips a second finger inside, pumping them a little faster into your cunt. “f-fuck…” you sigh, walls fluttering eagerly around his fingers when he begins to curl them against your walls.
“look— at the mess you’re making all over us.” your eyes shift downwards, face burning at the sight of his fingers, pretty hands coated in thick layers of your slick, the muscles of his forearms flexing with each curl of his fingers. “see?”
“that’s why i’m gonna take my time with you,” he coos, fingers curling against that spongy spot inside you that dots your vision with stars, “n watch your pretty pussy swallow my fingers like this.”
the lewd noises of his fingers fucking your cunt has you approaching your high, but you’re greedy for more— and knows that painfully well. he’s not any different, cock bulging tight under his pants and desperate to bury itself deep inside you, but not yet.
kiryuu fights back the smile that threatens to creep onto his lips when you gasp loudly at the stretch from a third finger slipping inside you, the thickness making your thighs tremble against his touch. “so pretty for me,” he lulls, “feeling good, huh?”
he loves watching your reactions, eyes intent on watching the way your expression contorts with pleasure, mouth slightly ajar to let out little pants and huffs, your own attention focused on how good his fingers feel inside you. he can tell you’re getting close with the way your thigh has started to tremble harder against his, hips occasionally jerking from the stimulation.
“you’re so good,” he coos, letting out a lazy grunt as his other hand comes to hold your face, “but no more looking. okay?”
his hand clasps over your mouth, your head tilting back to face the ceiling— and that’s when he switches. your head falls back on his shoulder when he’s suddenly he’s suddenly fucking you faster, fingers slamming into the most sensitive spots inside you. his thumb comes to rub roughly at your clit, drawing lewd moans from you as your thighs try and clamp together to fight the stimulation.
“i know, baby, i know—” his voice comes out calm, and he knows what you need. he knows how to work his fingers to make your head spin, knows this pace will have you whining that it’s too much, but he wants to see you cum. so he aims to pummel his fingers against that deep spot inside you, relishing in the way your thighs tremble violently in response.
“mmmp—!” your moans come out muffled against his hand, but he understands. “you’ll cum for me this time, won’t you?”
his hand leaves your mouth, a thick string of saliva connecting the two before he’s holding your thigh open for him, spreading you so he can thumb at your clit harder. “y-yes! ‘m gonna cum, f-fuck— kiryuu” you babble, eyes clenching shut and hands coming to squeeze at his forearms.
it’s too much. you find yourself right along the edge, eyes clenched shut because it’s just too much, but your cunt is eagerly swallowing his fingers whole, juices dripping down your thighs and his arms— “that’s right, you’re so good for me.” his voice comes out a little rushed, a little more breathless as he fucks his fingers into you.
“you can take this.”
all it takes is one more curl of fingers and his thumb to swipe over your clit to have you crying his name loudly, cunt spasming around his fingers as you gush all over him. you whine when he takes his fingers out, dragging them along your folds to watch the way your hips jerk at the overstimulation.
“that was better. see?”
he brings his fingers to your face, and you open your mouth in a daze, swirling your tongue lazily around each finger as he sighs contently, cock throbbing at the thought of your lips wrapped around his dick instead. “ahh… that’s so good.”
“you’re doing so good,” he whispers, “you can take another one. turn around for me, sweet thing.”
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KAJI REN.
“thought i told you to be quiet,” kaji growls against your cunt, “not to fake it.”
“‘m trying—” you stammer, thighs trembling as your hands lay flat on the surface, your body bent over his desk as he eats you out from behind.
“what?” his voice ghosts against your clit, making you suck in a sharp breath, “needa be muffled?”
your face burns when he takes out your panties, wet from the way he was grinding his cock against your clothed cunt earlier. you got him so riled up— his mind still stuck on how irresistible you looked folded over his desk, his bulge nestled so nicely between the globes of your ass. he should have tossed you onto his bed next, get a good look at how his cock sits between your thighs when you’re in prone bone, then get you arching your back and pulling at the sheets for him because he always fucks you that good.
but you had to test his patience today.
“open.” he stuffs the fabric into your mouth, fingers subtly ghosting over your lips before his hands are back around your thighs, tugging on them to urge you to come closer.
"gonna teach you a lesson," he spits, and his mouth is back on your cunt in an instant, tongue coming to roughly lap at the slick that’s started dripping. your face contorts, thighs pressing together- but his rough hands are moving to keep you wide open for him.
kaji has always been messy, groaning directly into your cunt as he licks and sucks, eating you out with fervor until he knows your eyes are rolling back into your skull, lewd noises barely muffled by the tiny wad of fabric in your mouth.
he’s slurping loudly, licking and sucking on your clit, and he brings his tongue down to prod at your hole, eyes narrowing into a glare when you try and clench your thighs together. his hands come to hook around the front of your hips, yanking you roughly back until you’re flush against his face, his tongue deep inside your hole as he licks in every direction, fucking you on his tongue while you make those sinful noises for him.
“k-kaji,” your words come out slurred from the muffle, your saliva dribbling onto his table, “‘m close!”
“oh f-fuck,” you cry when two fingers are shoved deep inside you, lewd noises echoing in his room when he fucks them in and out of your cunt, his mouth coming to flick at your clit. it’s becoming too much, and you try to escape by going higher onto your toes— but he doesn’t let you.
“don’t you dare,” he warns with a low growl against your cunt, hand squeezing your thigh to keep you firmly planted against his face. “quit squirming and take it.”
the knot in your stomach is tightening, pushing you closer and closer as his fingers seem to reach impossibly further inside your cunt with each movement, beating against that sweet spot inside that has you moaning so loudly against your panties.
“a-ah—” your eyes widen when his tongue flicks over your clit perfectly, and the coil inside your stomach snaps in an instant, screaming into the fabric as your walls flutter over his fingers, gushing into his mouth as he groans and laps at your cunt messily.
your jaw goes slack even he begins to slows down, fingers leaving your walls empty and needy so he can bring them to his lips and suck on them, get a last taste of you before he’s sloppily wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. your panties fall onto his desk, body reduced to a trembling mess.
and it’s everywhere. dripping down your thighs, coated over his entire hand— his face. if he was even trying to get it off of his mouth in the first place, it didn’t work.
“you’re fucking messy,” his voice is raspy when he leans over you, heavy cock pressing against your ass. “and we’re not done yet.”
there’s a deep, shaky groan from him when he first pushes his cock between your thighs, using your slick to get his dick wet. he’s throbbing by now, so desperate to be inside you, and it’s rubbing against your folds so nicely, tip nudging against your swollen clit each time he pushes forward.
“k-kaji,” you whine, “i wanna see you.”
his eyes widen a bit at the innocent request, your pretty face peering back at him with that fucked out look in your eyes— it’s cute. he’s gentle when his arms come to wrap around you, picking you up and pressing your back against the walls of his room.
“gonna make you cum over n over,” he grunts, sinking you slowly down onto his thickness. he’s always been harder to take in this position, cock practically splitting you open— and your sinful moans are going straight into his ear with the way you’ve latched onto his shoulders.
“you’re so big, kaji,” you gasp, “feels so good.”
“yeah?” his voice is low, breathless as he starts to slam his hips up into yours, tip prodding against your cervix each time he bottoms out. “you like that?”
“mhm,” your lips come to messily suck at his neck, and he groans loudly. “want more, kaji. please—”
"more?" he snarls, audible slaps echoing throughout the room from the way he's bouncing you even harder against his hips. "squirting all over my face wasn’t enough for you, huh?”
you grab at him to avoid falling from the roughness, arms tangled tightly around his neck to let him fuck you with pure strength, thickness spreading you so good as your slick dribbles down his balls.
"i better not hear you whining later that it’s too much.”
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pt 2: suo, sakura, togame, & umemiya x f!reader
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bi-writes · 29 days ago
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ok simon and his mail order bride live rent-free in my head now and, like, what i wanna know is what their anniversaries look like? not just their one year anniversary, but also their fifth or tenth? how does it change as they settle into that deep comfortability that comes with being with someone a long time? -391780
this piece i still consider canon mail-order bride, but i see it almost as an extra than a continuation of the current story since it is very much in the future of that timeline. <3
mail-order bride
it's difficult to see the potential of something so mangled. sometimes things are so worn out and so used that they don't reflect what their purpose was. instead of function, they see flaw. instead of value, they see waste.
sometimes you wonder if that's what they saw in you. sometimes you wonder if that's why you were given to him.
that's what they made him. simon was a tortured dog they let loose. they saw value, but only what was left, and perhaps they thought something like you might help them squeeze just that little bit more out of him. one more year. one more op.
the sunlight wakes you up. you forgot to pull the blinds, but when you see simon sleeping peacefully next to you, it's worth it to be up so early. you know as soon as you move, he will wake, so you keep still for just a few more minutes.
today marks ten. he doesn't look much older. he seems to have stopped aging ever since you asked him to put in his papers.
like always, as soon as you sit up, simon blinks awake. he's bleary, but conscious, and when your eyes meet, you smile at him. he lifts his big hand and rubs your back gently. you don't speak any words so early in the morning, but you don't have to. there isn't much to say when the love of your life loves you, and you love them back.
you push the blankets off, giggling when you reveal the black and orange balls of fur that blink up at you. they almost seem irritated that you interrupted their sleep, snuggled in the heat that simon radiated. they'll just have to deal with it.
you drag your hand down simon's leg wordlessly. you hear his deep breaths from behind, and you reach into your bedside table to press a little balm into your hand before spreading the ointment across his knee and under it. you work it into the muscles nice and slow; any faster, and simon will hitch his breath in pain, and you'll have to start over.
you kiss his knee before laying back down, settling into his side, and you lift up your left hand, wiggling your fingers knowingly at him before looking up towards his face. he smiles down at you sleepily, raising his hand to cup your fingers.
"still love me?" you ask softly, and simon pretends to think about.
"mmm..." he rumbles. "still love ya."
"but do you still like me?"
"more everyday."
the first few years were spent trying to play catch-up. fancy dinners, expensive gifts, handwritten letters that could've been novels to try and stuff the love you have for each other all in one night. they were all wonderful; you think about those nights all the time, and you cherish the gifts he's given you like they are a part of you, but today feels different.
today might not be just another day, but it's just as special as yesterday. and the day before that. and the day before that.
when it's time to really wake up, you let simon guide you. he walks easy, barely a limp, and he sits you down at your vanity to help you do your hair as you add your serums and moisturizers. he's good with that brush, running it through gently, parting your hair the way you like so he can tie it up. he'd braid your hair if you asked him to (he said it wasn't unlike all the knots he knows how to tie--and he meant it, no one dutch braids like him), but you know your show came out last night, and you want to watch them with the scones you have proofing in the fridge.
he makes the coffee and tea while you set the scones in the oven. you fill the cat's bowls while he cleans out the water fountain. it's wordless, the morning routine, but you like the times when you brush by him. when your arm runs against his. when your hands bump going for the same cabinet. when he leans down as he passes you, kissing along your jaw before he keeps walking.
bliss. fucking bliss.
he's waiting for you in the living room once you pull the scones out of the oven. your coffee sits on the table on its coaster, in your favorite mug, and he's under your blanket as he flips through the tv. he already knows what you'll want to watch, and you bite back your smile when you notice him typing it into the search bar because he didn't see it when he scrolled past (you keep telling him to wear his glasses, but he'll never listen).
you take a seat next to him, thumbing at his cheek, and he takes a scone off the plate before biting into it. he smiles when he tastes chocolate, looking at you knowingly, and you reach for his hand as you settle against his chest.
you used to be mangled, too. a mess. pretty on the outside, dying on the inside. all fried wires, a traumatized animal, learned behavior of relieve and appease that kept you out of trouble and out of sight.
you have never seen simon this way. and simon has never seen you this way. no hopeless potential. no wasted space. no diminishing value.
i matter because you matter. you matter because i matter.
hidden, not broken. disguised, not incomplete. you did not have jagged edges, only armor that you tried to put up to protect yourself.
you tip your head back to look up at him, and when he cups your jaw to stare back at you, you're relieved by what you see in his eyes.
ten years. it will be nothing like forever. it will be nothing like your next life, nor like the life after that. it's comforting to know what home looks like. maybe you will recognize it the way you recognized it in this life.
no, that can't be it.
you recognized it because it had already happened. in some other time, in some other place, you were sitting where you sit now, looking at simon the way you look at him now.
you knew who he was before you even met him, and you will know who he is when you meet him again.
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crescenthistory · 2 months ago
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#11 "i want to see you" with Regulus pretty please?
well, when you ask so nicely, of course babe<3
Prompt: E.11 "I want to see you"
Words: 1.5k
Warnings: not proofread, implied smut (mdni), foreplay, heavy makeout, implied trauma and mental health issues on reggie's part, creating a safe space during sexy times, established but new relationship
Note: this man is not okay and i want to personally rectify that. don't know how i feel about this one, but it's something!
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The curtains in Regulus’ dorm are drawn, bathing the room in a soft glow from the lantern on the bedside table. You have been spending more nights here than in your own bed the past few weeks, your lives being tangled more and more, and the thought of it all tasted sweet. Each night, you fall into this rhythm, this back-and-forth dance of give and take, of pushing and pulling, daring the other to take it another step. 
His hands are at your waist as you straddle his lap where he sits against the headboard of his bed, fingers tracing absent-minded patterns across your skin. Your shirt is discarded somewhere on the floor, leaving you half-exposed, while Regulus is still fully dressed, save for his tie, which is deliciously loosened. The knot hangs precariously around his neck, the top few buttons of his shirt undone, revealing the pale skin beneath. His chest is heaving and his heart erratic beneath your palm.
His lips meet yours again, soft at first, like he is testing the waters, but you can feel the tension rolling off him in waves, the barely restrained control he is trying so hard to maintain. It’s intoxicating, the way he holds himself back, but you want more. You need more.
You deepen the kiss and feel him melt slightly into you as your fingers tangle into his dark curls, pulling him impossibly closer.
When you break the kiss, you rest your forehead against his, breaths mingling. His hands still linger at your waist.
“Regulus,” you murmur, voice low and edged with something unspoken, "I want to see you.”
His brow furrows slightly, lips parting as if he’s about to speak, but nothing comes out. You bring a hand to his face, thumb brushing over his cheek, his jawline tense beneath your touch. You know he understands, even if he doesn’t want to.
“I understand why you're scared,” you repeat, voice softer but no less insistent. Your fingers move to the knot of his tie, slowly pulling it loose, and you feel his breath stutter against your skin. “But I care for you. I will take care of you, I just want to see you. All of you.”
You mean the words in every possible way. You want to see him — vulnerable, bare, unguarded. Not just physically, you want him to let go, to stop hiding from you, from himself.
His eyes flicker to yours, wide and uncertain, but you can see the desire, the passion, burning in them. A spark that matches the fire simmering inside you. His hesitation makes your heart ache, because you know why he feels the way he is, why he is wired like this, how much he fears losing control, of unravelling in front of you. But you also know how much he wants this — how much he wants you.
Your hands move to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one, your movements slow, deliberate. You give him ample time to stop you, tell you he's too scared, but he just watches you, hunger slowly overtaking his uncertainty. You can still feel the tension radiating from him, the way his breath comes faster with each button undone, as if he's teetering on the edge of something he can’t quite name.
“Let me in,” you whisper, your lips brushing against his collarbone as you push the fabric of his shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. “I want to see you fall apart.”
He exhales sharply, like he’s been holding his breath for years. His hands move from your waist to your back, pulling you closer as his lips crash into yours again, more desperate this time, more raw. You can feel the shift, the way his restraint is slipping, the way he is starting to let go.
You’re pressed against him now, your bare skin against the warmth of his chest, the last of his barriers crumbling as you move together. His kisses grow hungrier, his hands rougher as they trace the curve of your spine, the dip of your waist. He groans into your mouth, and the sound sends heat pooling low in your belly.
"I need you," he whispers against your lips. "Just you."
Your hands explore his chest, fingers swirling over his nipples, smiling when he jerks into your touch at the sensation. You let your nails lightly scratch over his stomach, moving slower as you caress his happy trail and eventually the waistband of his trousers. He is receptive to your touch, finally making the occasional sound of enjoyment as he uses his tongue more surely, more passionately. The controlled Regulus Black allows himself to be more sloppy, more desperate, and the mere thought that it's all for you excites you more than anything.
A teasing finger slips beneath the edge of fabric, pulling slightly at it as you push yourself further into him. You feel him tense slightly against you again, though this time it's not from hesitation — it’s from the sheer intensity of everything he’s feeling. He’s right there, on the cusp of losing himself in you, and it’s driving him equally as mad.
You pull back just enough to meet his gaze, your free hand caressing his jaw and neck, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. “Reggie,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “You don’t have to be closed off with me. I’m right here.”
"You are," he repeats, eyes holding yours intensely, the weight of your words sinking in. You see the war dying inside him — the battle between wanting to keep his walls up and the overwhelming desire to tear them all down for you. One of his hands moves to your thigh while the other holds your back as he lifts you up from his lap to place you on the mattress behind you. You gasp and he smiles, devilishly and beautifully, before kissing you deep.
“Merlin,” he groans against you, his voice low and wrecked, lips trailing down your neck. His teeth graze your skin in a way that has you arching into him and he meets you in turn. He is starting to unravel under your touch, piece by piece, and it’s the most intoxicating thing you have ever seen.
You feel his hands at the clasp of your bra, his fingers only shaking ever so slightly as he undoes it. There is something vulnerable in the way he moves even now, like he is baring himself just as much as you are. When your bra falls away, his breath catches, and for a moment, all he can do is stare at you, his gaze reverent, like he can’t believe you are real.
“So beautiful, so, so gorgeous,” he whispers, already moving down to kiss across your chest with an open mouth, voice rough with need. His hands tremble as they slide up your sides, kneading the flesh, and you can feel how close he is to losing control, but he’s holding on, just barely, because he’s still afraid to fall completely.
You cup his face in your hands, pulling him back up to meet your eyes. “Let go, my love,” you murmur, your voice barely more than a breath. “I want to see you.”
His resolve shatters.
With a low, broken groan, he kisses you again, harder this time, his hands everywhere at once — your hips, your thighs, your breasts. He’s a mess of need and want, his careful control slipping through his fingers like sand. He is undone, and it is everything you’ve been waiting for.
His trousers are the next to go, discarded in a rush as he moves above you, his body pressed to yours, skin to skin. The heat between you is unbearable, but it’s perfect, and when he finally gives in, when he finally lets himself fall apart in your hands, it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. 
As his groans fill the space between you, as you pull him closer, your bodies tangled together in a perfect mess, you realise this is what you’ve both been waiting for — raw and real, he is completely yours and you his. He whispers your name into the darkness.
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ynsvnte · 24 days ago
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Cat lady !
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Heeseung x fem!reader
genre: smut 18+ MDNI!!, hybrid au, established relationship, a bit of fluff — Synopsis: having a hybrid wasn’t so bad. Especially a cat.. oh how fun they were.
word count: 639
Warnings: rough sex, biting, cum eating, ddlg, piv, unprotected sex, oral (m and f), swearing, degrading, slapping. Mating press, riding, kissing
Masterlist
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You scratch his back as he pounded harder into you. Screaming out loud. Pleasure taking over your body. His cock hitting your cervix you whined
“Go faster..” you begged, this isn’t enough for you, you craved more. More of this feeling. He always made you feel good. No one could replace him. His grip on your thighs were starting to hurt.
“Such a fucking slut..” he whispered into your ear, making you clench around him. You moan out loud not holding back. You don’t even care if the neighbors hear you both. He forces you into the mating press.. hitting the spot. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. You felt yourself coming close. You close your eyes only to be slapped.
“Keep your eyes on me..” He threatened. Rubbing your clit.. he only increased his pace, he doesn’t take too long before unloading in you. Filling you up once again. You lost count how many times he came inside of you. Some seeping out. You feel his finger shove it back before picking some up and putting it right in front of you. “Lick my fingers..” you smile opening your mouth, allowing his cum covered fingers inside.. you slurp around his fingers.. enjoying the tangy taste.
He pulls his fingers around from your mouth.. before laying on the bed.. “Cmon sit on my face so I can eat that sweet cunt of yours” you obey him and lift yourself up each leg on the side of his head. Sitting on his face you moan.. enjoying the sensation. Heeseung is a messy eater.. sucking and licking your clit making you moan. You grabbed his cock stroking him.. Getting hard quickly you place his tip to your lips letting the pre-cum coat your lips.
You lick his shaft. You take him fully in your mouth as he eats you out. You moan around his cock, moving your head up and down. He slaps your clit causing you to jolt a bit. You gagged around his cock.. “Fuck such a whore.. my cock whore..” You try taking him even more, gagging around him. You pull away, a string of saliva detaching, you lick his balls before sucking on them.. you feel them tighten knowing he's getting closer.. as you suck him off you stroke him.
The sound of moaning filling up the room.. “Close kitty.. finna come..” He doesn’t last long, coming quickly you take him back in your mouth you moan. He laps your cunt trying to make you come in his mouth.. you sit up fully pulling away.. and ride his face eagerly chasing your orgasm. “Heeseung.. I-“ you were cut off by him slapping your ass.. you let a whine.. you cunt aching.. the knot tightening.. you cunt bumps onto his nose triggering your orgams. You scream his name as he continues to eat you out while you come. You get off his face lying down weak.. exhausted, out of energy.
“We aren’t done yet kitty.. ride me..” he sits up stroking himself waiting for you. You look up, forcing yourself up. You crawl towards him and place yourself above him. His tip at your entrance. He fills you up nicely. You grabbed his arms to support, lifting your body up and then going back down. You bite down onto his shoulder. The pleasure taking over your brain. Your thighs ache.. as your pace slows, you get your ass slapped by Heeseung, red marks on it. You try to quicken your pace but it’s too late for that as Heeseung grabs your hips and pounds from below.. you both come together as you curl into his embrace..
“Sorry if I was rough baby..” he kisses your lips, purring you smile at him.. “it’s okay.. I love you..” you stare at his eyes.. “I love you too..”
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Author’s note: I wrote smut it’s been a long time it’s so hard tbh (mainly why only I really write fluff tbh..) idk I make new ideas and post them but not my drafts that have been there for months. Also happy late Halloween..? I’m sick yall hope I get better 💔
© ynsvnte copyright 2024
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aerinaga · 5 months ago
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I NEED A PHONE SEX FIC
kiss me thru the phone.
paige bueckers x reader
warnings: smut (phone sex, masturbation)
synopsis: an away game without you being able to go causes heat between the two of you.
the uconn team had left for the ncaa tournament, leaving you in connecticut. paige didn’t wanna leave you, she insisted that you go with her but you had a tight schedule with work.
you thought that it would be a good idea for her to get away first and take a breather with the games she would be playing in. you miss her, but you both had priorities that needed to come first.
you saw new pictures of paige being uploaded frequently. it was no doubt that she was fine as hell. it made you even more jealous with the fact that you can’t be there to witness it. you knew that you were sharing your girl with the entire world, but damn it was difficult.
paige had just arrived at her hotel, she texted you saying that she would just take a shower and facetime you. being the neediest person alive at the moment, you fix your hair and put a little bit of gloss on your lips.
to make things even hotter, you undressed yourself, leaving your underwear on.
a few minutes later, paige calls you.
“hi babymama, how are you?”
“i’m good, just bored. i miss you so much.”
“i miss you even more. just one more week and i’ll be home.”
you had an idea. you got up from your bed, not showing your body just yet. you went to your bathroom, looking at the mirror and fixing your hair. what you really meant to do was to flip the camera on purpose and tell her that it was an accident.
paige was staring at you so intently, admiring you.
thats when you flipped your camera. you saw her eyes slightly widen, a smirk forming on her lips. you flipped it back to your face. “oops. sorry babe.” you tell her, watching the reaction on her face.
“so thats what you wanted to do huh? such a needy princess hm?” her voice deepens, eliciting a soft moan from you.
you rush to your bed, immediately flipping the camera again to your body. your legs were rubbing against each other, hinting paige that you were wet.
“open your legs for me, alright?”
you open your legs to the widest possible, earning a groan from paige. “you’re so sexy just for me.” paige immediately tells you to touch yourself.
your fingers run down your nipples, pinching them just to tease paige. your hand slowly goes down to your heat, landing your fingers on your clit. paige watches you with need, you knew she was doing the same to herself too.
you rubbed your clit in slow circles, a moan coming out your mouth. “i want you so bad p.” paige moans at your comment, throwing her head back. “i’ll fuck you hard and real nice when i get home hm? just keep fucking yourself baby.” your fingers rub faster on your clit, you couldn’t think. you just wanted her.
you inserted two fingers in yourself, pushing in and out. your moans were becoming louder by the second, and you could hear your girl’s breathing fasten thru the phone.
you plunged your fingers at a fast pace, feeling the knot tighten in you. you curled your fingers in, hitting your special spot. “p, i’m gonna cum.” your voice hitting the highest note. “let go, baby. i’m gonna cum too.”
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gor3-hound · 5 months ago
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SLY FOX // DUMB BUNNY - ZENIN CLAN
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ft. fox!toji, naoya, naobito, jinichi and ogi x bunny!reader
a/n: thank uuuu to @sqiim and @kaitkatme for beta'ing !!! another commission for @nexysworld :333 coolest gal out there on god 💪 gangbangs are... hard to write but... think i cooked???? fb and rbs appreciated !!
cw: 18+ content, gang bang, mxmxmxmxmxf!reader, knotting, dubcon, power dynamics, ooc naobito?, double penetration, breeding, creampies galore !!, mating press, doggy, biting, very small blood mention, size difference-ish, cockwarming, the zenins aren't nice, misogyny
word count: 2.6k words
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Being a servant in the Zen'in family was difficult. Being a rabbit among a den of foxes was another thing entirely. You could feel narrowed, judgmental eyes following your every movement. You could sense their gazes on you at every moment, even when you thought you were alone.
Some of them liked to play with you for sport - tugging on your floppy ears, baring their teeth at you to watch you tremble or sneaking up on you to watch you jump. It keeps you on edge, but more than anyone, Naobito fills you with a sense of dread.
It's his silence - the way his watchful eye scours the compound. He does not discipline his family for their mistreatment of you, but he does not engage in the behaviour himself. If anything, he seems wholly uninterested in you, addressing you only when he sees fit.
You're tense when he approaches, every muscle fibre pulled taut in your body. His gaze is locked on you, but his movements are slow. Languid. Like he enjoys watching you squirm as he approaches.
“Here, little rabbit.” He orders, voice firm and unwavering, but not cruel. Your ears twitch at the authority in his tone, and you're quick to walk towards him until you're right in front of him. He nods his head to the side, turning and walking away. A silent command for you to follow.
He's silent as he leads you to the clan meeting hall. There's a few faces you recognise here - the next most eligible heads of the Zen’in clan, along with its very own black sheep, Toji. Naobito orders you to strip, and you shakily comply, shaking slightly under the fox’s heavy gazes.
“You've all failed to produce any useful heirs to secure your place as the next head of the clan. Ogi has given us women, Toji - a bastard. My own son has not even produced a child, and as for you, Jinichi… I do not even wish to speak on the matter. You have somehow disappointed me more than your brother.”
Naobito kicks your trembling form forward, your body bare as you catch yourself before making contact with the floor. The wood is rough against your soft skin, your eyes flickering across the many faces of the Zen'in men staring down at you.
“A bunny. Not ideal, of course. But fertile enough I'm sure one of you will be able to fuck a useful heir into her by the end of today.”
The men are tense, gazing at each other for a few silent moments, as if eyeing up who gets first dibs. Ogi is the eldest, but seems thoroughly disinterested. Toji, although cocky, knows well enough that a fight will break out if he attempts to be the first to approach. The toss up is left between Naoya and Jinichi, who both look like they're about three seconds away from tearing each other apart.
Naoya steps forward first, which sets Jinichi off. He takes two large steps forward, his form dwarfing Naoya's as he squares up, determined to be the first to have you. Naoya's fur bristles, his tone conceited when he speaks up.
“I'm the rightful heir. It is my duty to breed her first.” He grunts, stepping in front of his cousin, glaring as he gazes up at the older man.
“You're nothing but a spoiled brat. I could tear you apart in seconds, little fox.” Jinichi growls, thick brows pulling together as he pushes Naoya to the side, baring his teeth at his cousin in frustration. He kneels, his hand coming down to smack your clit harshly before he forces two thick fingers into your cunt.
“Your son is too arrogant, uncle. You should teach him some respect.” He grunts, scissoring you open. You're much wetter than fox girls he's been with, slick gushing from you eagerly, streaming steadily down his hand to his wrist. “Bet a cock like that wouldn't even stretch out a tiny bunny girl like this, hmm?”
Naoya's tail bristles, a low growl forming in his throat as his lips curl back. “You watch your mouth old man, or I swear I'll-”
“Enough. Both of you. I'm sharing the girl as a gift to our clan - a means for you to produce heirs. Do not think I won't keep her to myself if you don't behave.” Naobito cuts in, his eyes narrowing as he gazes at the other Zen'in's. Ogi remains silent next to him, but his gaze is harsh and unwavering as he gazes at Naoya, making his disdain for his attitude abundantly clear.
Toji, who has been too busy watching his brother’s fingers splitting you open, scoffs at the eldest Zen’in. His eyes flick up to his uncle, and he cocks his head to the side. When he speaks, it's with barely restrained amusement. “You think you can keep up with a bunny at your age?”
Ogi speaks up for the first time then, his gaze narrowing in on Toji. “You should consider yourself lucky that a runt like you was even invited to join in on this.”
“Runt, huh? I'm bigger than you, ya old bastard.” He growls, ears pulling back as he straightens up, making himself appear bigger. You whimper as you gaze at the two men, but Jinichi doesn't stop stretching you out, leaving you mewling despite your discomfort.
Jinichi ignores their bickering in favour of pulling his fingers from your tight cunt, shedding his kimono and pulling his cock free. Your eyes widen as you get a lock at it, your chest heaving with nervous breaths.
“That's not… it's too big.” You squeak, eyes wide as he grips the back of your thighs, folding you in half effortlessly. In return, you get another harsh smack against your cunt, one that has you jolting with a whimper. He bares down on you, forcing his thick length into your tight hole, bottoming out with a low groan.
The stretch stings, making you whine and squirm against his body. His grip is unwavering, not allowing you to pull too far back from him. He doesn't grace you time to adjust as he presses your thighs to your chest, the weight of his body keeping you pinned. He sets a brutal pace, fat cock rutting into you mercilessly.
“I'm sick of waiting.” Naoya growls, his ears pulling back as he glares at his cousin. Jinichi bristles as he approaches, body growing rigid as the younger man approaches. “Let up for a second, huh? ‘M just gonna join ya. Fuckin’ brute.”
Jinichi scowls, but relents, pulling out of you long enough for Naoya to lie down, lifting you so your back is pressed against his chest. He sinks into you with a whine, tail swaying contentedly under him. The larger man returns, slowly pressing his length in along his cousin's with a grunt.
“Fuck… she's even tighter.” He practically purrs, continuing the brutal pace he set before. Naoya starts moving too, their cocks pistoning in and out in a rough rhythm that steals the air from your lungs.
Jinichi senses your discomfort, but the most he offers to soothe you is his tongue lapping at your skin, a soft growl rumbling in his chest. His head dips down to your chest, dark locks tickling your skin as he latches onto a nipple, sharp teeth grazing the fat of your breast. You mewl at the feeling, slick gushing from your cunt to aid in the movements of the cocks inside of you.
“So wet. Acting all shy, but your body knows what you're meant for.” Naoya coos, a condescending tone underlying his words. He sinks his teeth into the crook of your neck as he fucks into you, the sharp pain making you cry out. He loosens his jaw, lapping at the blood spilling from the bite. “A bunny bitch acting like she wasn't born to be bred.”
The other clan members watch the exchange, but Toji is most notably affected. His eyes are hooded as he stares at the way your hole stretches around his brother and cousin, eyes narrowed in on your slick cunt.
Jinichi's thrusts grow sloppily as he reaches his peak. He feels his knot swelling, and he pulls back from your breast and grits his teeth to surpass the urge to force it past your tight ring of muscle. He growls as he spills inside of you, filling him with your seed.
“Can't keep up, cousin?” Naoya teases, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face. Jinichi snaps at him in warning, easing his softening cock out of you.
“I'll rip your throat out with my teeth, you insolent brat.” He sneers, stepping away from you as Naoya continues to pound into you. Naoya rolls his eyes, his expression still smug as he rolls the both of you over and yanks your hips up so he can fuck you properly.
“Presenting all pretty f’me.” He teases, draping his frame over yours as he ruts into you desperately. “Just like a good breedin’ bitch, hmm?”
You whine low in your throat, bunny ears flopping limply by your face as you claw at the ground, pussy already sore from being treated so roughly. You do your best to roll your hips back to meet his thrusts, but you're already tired and your movements are sloppy and disorganised.
“Gonna knot this bunny cunt.” He murmurs, brows furrowing as he fucks into your drippy cunt. His knot catches your entrance, and he forces it in with a hiss of pleasure, tail twitching behind him. You feel his cum filling you, joining his cousin's as he rides out his high. He sits back with a satisfied sigh, making you yelp as his knot tugs you back with him.
“Did ya have to knot her?” Toji growls, tail stiffening as he approaches. “Been waitin' long enough as it is.”
“You can wait longer.” Naoya huffs, stretching his legs out to get comfortable as he waits for his knot to deflate. The next few minutes are tense as Toji's gaze remains locked on his cousin, waiting impatiently for his turn.
As soon as Naoya's knot deflates enough for him to wriggle free, Toji steps forward. He's stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder, Ogi's face expressionless as he pulls him back.
“I'm not sharing with the runt.” Ogi says simply, stepping towards you as he frees his cock without bothering to disrobe. “And I'm certainly not letting his seed dirty my cock. He can wait.”
Toji lunges, clearly looking for a fight, but one firm look from the head of the clan has him stopping, seething as he steps back again to watch his uncle slide easily into your used cunt. You're already sore and tender, and you know you're not going to last long with the deep, slow strokes Ogi's delivering.
You whimper as you clench around him, cumming on his cock. Your eyes water, lash line gathering tears that threaten to fall down your face. Ogi doesn't speak, or so much as acknowledge you, using you for nothing more than his own pleasure. The overstimulating pleasure has your back arching, and you mewl as you squirt, release flooding his cock and coating his lower abdomen.
His face wrinkles in distaste, but he just continues rocking his hips against yours until his knot swells. He doesn't knot you - but he buries himself to the swollen base of his cock before cumming deep in you. He pulls back, putting his cock away before nodding once in the direction of his brother and leaving the room.
Toji steps forward, cock already aching and drooling as he approaches. He seems to soften at your fucked out, exhausted expression and twitching thighs, his features softening almost imperceptibly.
“Shhh, it's alright, little one.” He coos, voice low as he nuzzles a floppy ear so only you can hear it. He knows what it's like used and discarded by the Zen'in’s, albeit in an entirely different way. “Won't make ya take my knot. I'll be careful.”
He sheaths his cock into you slowly, guiding each inch carefully into your swollen cunt. His thumb rubs circles into your clit, hoping to give you pleasure as he chases his own. He stays still when he's buried into you fully, the head of his cock twitching as it presses firmly against your cervix. He licks at your ears gently, coaxing you to relax before he starts fucking into you.
You whine and keen under him, lips open in a silent gasp as he fucks into you. You can barely keep your eyes open, lids fluttering as you peer up at him.
“Keep your eyes open, bunny.” He purrs, tail swaying behind him. “Don't pass out on me just yet.”
You whine softly, but force your eyes open. He grabs your hips, manhandling you so he can pull you back to meet his thrusts, bullying himself into your cunt with low grunts. “So fuckin’ tight after bein’ stretched by so many cocks, lil bunny.”
The squelching sounds of your abused cunt fill the room with every shift of his hips, your moans and whines growing louder as your orgasm crashes through you once again, your walls tightening around Toji's cock. He growls at the feeling, thrusting shallowly before shooting hot ropes of white deep inside your trembling form. He stays buried inside of you for a few moments, nuzzling at your neck before pulling back, ruffling your hair between your ears.
Naobito gestures for everyone to leave once Toji redresses before he beckons your exhausted body towards him. You can't even walk straight, your body shaking with exertion as you approach him. Cum drips down your inner thighs, the sensation making you cringe.
He fishes his cock out - its hard and leaky, the tip flushed red. You whimper softly at the thought of being bred again, but he clicks his tongue to silence you. He hoists you onto his lap, ears twitching as he slowly slides you down on his length. He grunts as he bottoms out, nosing at your hair before his tongue darts out to run along the length of one of your ears.
“Shh, little bunny. Just keeping you plugged, hmm? Making sure one of those useless bastards gives our family an heir.” He coos, uncharacteristically soft. His tail sways gently, greying fur brushing the soft skin of your thigh.
“You're one of us now. Gonna be carrying Zen’in kits in you soon. I'll make sure you're looked after.” He murmurs, holding you close to his chest, large hands rubbing up and down your back.
He starts thrusting slowly, tongue coming out to lathe gently across your skin to soothe as he guides you up and down on his cock. He barely pulls out, only shifting you a few inches so it's more of a slow grind.
“You're going to take my knot, little one. Then you can relax, and I'll have the servants draw you a bath.” He murmurs against your skin, nosing at the crook of your shoulder. He's old, and his stamina wasn't what it used to be, so it's not long before he pops his knot in you.
He holds you close as he floods you with his cum, your belly feeling full from all the loads you'd taken. He reaches up to stroke one of your floppy ears, running his fingers gently along your soft fur.
“Sleep, little rabbit. I will personally see to arranging a chamber for you in the compound until we can find out who the father is.” He almost purrs, gently stroking your ears until you drift off.
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recklesssturniolo · 1 year ago
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Early Morning - C.S
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Soft dom!Chris, “ma” & “mamas”, reader and Chris are dating
NSFW below, leave if you’re a minor
Rolling over as Chris’ alarm goes off, him refusing to do it himself I turn it off and roll back over to face him.
“Chris come on, you know you have that meeting this morning. Nick will kill you if you make them late” I say playing with his hair.
He grumbles into his pillow before opening his eyes and mumbling out, “Five more minutes, keep playing with my hair it feels so nice”
I roll my eyes but let him fall back asleep for the five minutes he asked for before waking him up again.
“Alright pretty boy times up” I tell him.
In response he pulls me closer to him, my back now against his chest. Only wearing one of his shirts and a thong I immediately can tell he’s hard - as he is every morning. I feel him slowly grind his hips against my ass as he places gentle kisses on my neck.
“Chris we don’t have time for this” I reply, ignoring the wetness beginning to pool in my panties.
“Come on ma, you know it’ll feel good. Then I’ll get up I promise” He croaks into my ear, his voice still raspy from just waking up.
He continues grinding himself against my ass, but moves his hand to my pussy, a moan slipping from my mouth as I felt his touch.
“See baby you’re so wet for me already” He whispers into my ear. His hand slowly massaging my clit. My face flushing as the small gesture that came with so much please.
“I - fuck Chris” I whimper out, my hands gripping the sheets as I feel his fingers enter me.
The air now thick with desire as he pumps his fingers into me, noticing him slowing down his pace, I whine.
“No don’t slow down”
“I want you to ride me mamas, you look so good on top of me” He smirks.
The words flowing so effortlessly from his mouth only cause me to ache with the want of him more. Turning him onto his back, he removes his boxers before bringing his hand up and tugging on the hem of the shirt I had on, his head nodding upwards signalling for me to take it off. Him immediately reaching for my breasts as I weave our lips together, tugging on his hair as our tongues collided.
My breath hitches as he smacks my ass, “Come on pretty girl, you know we don’t have much time”
I position myself so his dick is in line with my entrance. I slowly sink down onto him, whining as I struggle to take in his size.
“You can take it ma, show me how much of a good girl you are for me” He murmurs out, his eyes clenching shut the further he was inside of me.
Moans flowing from both of our mouths as he’s fully inside me. I begin bouncing on him, almost dizzy from the sensation of him inside of me.
“F-feels so good Chris fuck” I whimper.
“Yeah? You like how I feel deep inside you baby?” He groans back, now thrusting his hips upwards, meeting mine each time I went back down.
“Keep doing that, please” I whine out, my eyes rolling back as I feel his strong gaze on me, watching my every move.
I feel one of his hands leave the side on my waist, crying out in pleasure, my head being thrown back as he begins using him thumb to move circles on my clit. Becoming intoxicated by the sensation.
“Mm look so pretty bouncing on my dick mamas” He grunts, both of us picking up our pace. His hips now hitting mine perfectly, his dick lined up directly with my g-spot only causing me to whimper out his name louder as the knot is my stomach got tighter.
“I love you saying my name like that baby but you gotta stay quiet for me okay?” He says, knowing his brothers could easily hear if I didn’t quiet down.
“I - yeah fuck I’ll be quiet” I whimper, “Please don’t stop Chris I’m so close” My jaw slightly dropping as I felt my climax become closer and closer, while being aware of his dick starting to twitch inside me.
Locking eyes with him, his glazed over with lust as he looked my body up and down.
“Fuck I’m coming, come with me ma, I know you can. Fuck you feel so good” He says, his breath slightly becoming faster as he hits his high.
“Oh my god Chris” I strain out, my pussy pulsating as I come. Feeling nothing but ecstasy flow throughout my body as both of our moans fill the air. Shockwaves of pleasure continuing to flow through us.
With a couple more thrusts of him inside me, I slowly remove myself off of him, his come dripping out of me as I did. A small groan leaving my mouth as I noticed. Looking over at him, sweat on his forehead, his breathing returning back to normal, he takes him thumb and slowly traces my bottom lip with it.
“Such a good girl for me” He mumbles, pulling me close and connecting our lips again, “One more round mama”
Pulling away from him, a groan leaving his mouth as I did, I smile slightly before replying, “I’d love to but I can already hear Nick bitching about how he ‘just knows’ you’re gonna make them late”
“Fuck sakes Nick” He sighs, but doing as he promised and getting out of bed, placing a quick kiss on my forehead before heading over to his closet.
TAGLIST: @sturnphilia @thatonekid536 @cupidsword @loveesiren @daddyslilchickenfingers @christinarowie332 @ilovemattsturn @mattenthusiast @its-jennarose @lxvlysworld @lovingsturniolo @iwantmattsobad @secret-sturniolo @mattsd0ll @soursturniolo
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smallndsoft · 6 months ago
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tw: breeding
“what’s up, sweet boy? okay. you can come sit on my lap. but you have to stay still, okay?”
the days i work from home are always nice. especially when it’s raining out. the soft patter on the windows and being able to be with you all day is a huge benefit to such a stressful and usually labor intensive jobs.
as i work on responding to emails and handling client demands, you situate yourself on my lap. it’s nice to have a warm body so close and i’d never say no to a little company while i’m working.
for a while, the patter of the rain, tapping on my keyboard, and your gentle breathing are all i can hear. it takes away some of the stress i have of having to deal with difficult clients.
for a while, it’s nice and quiet. unfortunately, the silence doesn’t last long. soon, my office chair starts to squeak from the little adjustments you’re making on my lap.
“are you getting restless, puppy?” checking the clock on my phone, i realize just how long i’ve been working without a break.
“okay. let’s have a little break.” i smile and push away from my desk a little, making sure i’m still close enough if you want to lean back against the edge of it. “what do you think i should do on this little break, hmm puppy?”
gently, i start to rub my hands up and down your upper thighs, squeezing every so often. i’ve known what you wanted from me since you sat on my lap almost an hour ago, but i still want to hear it from you.
instead of giving a real answer, you just softly whine as if squeeze your thighs a little harder.
“use your words, pretty boy.” i smile as you mumble out an answer, almost too quiet for me to hear. normally, i would make you speak up before teasing you a little more, but i can see in your eyes just how desperate you are.
still, i take my time to get you worked up. pretty soon, your breath comes out in short pants. your soft whines fill my office as i unzip your pants. “puppies don’t wear pants, now, do they?”
you give me a firm head shake as i lift you up with ease, tugging your pants down along with your boxers. “there we go. much better.”
already, i can feel your wetness soaking through my jeans and the strain against my zipper is apparent.
while i gently pet you with one hand, the other reaches down to unzip my jeans. i stroke myself over my boxers, a relaxed sigh leaving me as i imagine how good it’s going to feel being in you.
i get lost in the pressure my hand provides over my boxers, but your insistent whines and rutting against my thigh snaps me out of it.
“i’m sorry, puppy. you’ve been such a good boy for me today. it’s time for your treat.”
slowly, i pull my cock out, drops of pre-cum running down my shaft as i feel you squirm even more.
“okay, pretty boy. you know what to do.”
letting out a stifled moan, i adjust slightly as you sink yourself down onto my cock. the process is painfully slow as i feel you take every inch.
“of fuck, puppy. you’re so tight.”
my eyes closed, i give you a second to adjust before i grab your hips and move you back and forth.
it’s been less than a day since i fucked you last, but it feels like months with how tight you are. soon, pants and moans fill the room. my chair squeaks under me as my thrusts meet every movement of your hips against me.
“just like that, puppy. fuck. fu-oh i’m not gonna last long this time, baby.”
as your eyes roll into the back of your head, i grasp onto your hips harder. i adjust myself before i speed up my thrusts, the tip of my cock brushing against your cervix now with each aggressive thrust.
“fuck fuck fuck. such a good boy. oh shit you feel good, puppy.” the knot in my belly starts to tighten as i feel myself getting close.
as you rut into me as fast as you can, your hips moving frantically, i cup your cheek, pulling you close to me for a kiss.
tongues and teeth clash as you bounce on me, my cock drilling into you one final time as i squeeze your hip hard enough to bruise it.
i keep my lips firmly pressed against yours as i let out a guttural moan. my nails digging into your hip as i fill you with my cum, your own orgasm clashing with mine.
“fuck that’s a good boy,” i mumble against your lips. “that’s a good boy. just let me breed you. fuck.”
my thighs shake a little as i feel you clench around me. i rest my forehead against yours, smiling as i feel my cum drip onto the chair.
“you’re such a good puppy letting me breed you like that, but i have to get back to work. i promise i’ll fill you up once i finish.”
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perplexedflower · 7 years ago
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Connection
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Fandom: Gravity Falls.
Category: F/M.
Relationship: Stanford Pines x Female Reader.
Type: One shot.
Words: 3,830.
Summary: Stanford Pines is anything but used to romance, but when the young woman he has fallen for confesses her feelings to him, it feels to him as though they were destined to be together…
Chronology: Late Season 2.
~~~~~~~~~~
I felt a little dizzy as my body began to tremble, but after one slow, deep breath, I regained my composure and walked out of the attic. After having spent so long, so much time, so many days debating with myself, I had finally made up my mind: that day was the day I would dare approach Stanford and confess to him everything that weighed on my mind. At last.
I made my way down the staircase and up to the vending machine, alone in the room; that afternoon was bright and sunny, thankfully for me, as all the others were spending their time outside the shack. The last thing I wanted was for one of them to walk in on me confessing my love to Stanford, and the sheer thought of such a thing happening was enough to bring knots to my stomach.
Still standing in front of the vending machine, I input the code to the basement on the pad, a code only the Stan twins knew better than I did, a code I typed in every day, a code that had become so important to me.
Come on, [Y/N]... You can do it. I motivated myself through thought as I watched the secret door open. You've prepared yourself for this day, for this exact moment... You can do it.
With the vending machine now retracted, I took a deep breath once more, sensing my nervousness rise as my stomach truly began to ache, my heart beating faster in my chest than it had ever before. For the second time, I found myself faced with a flight of stairs: I walked down each step, one by one, until I arrived at the elevator. With a slightly trembling index finger, I pressed the button that led to the last floor, which was home to the now-broken portal. While I waited inside the elevator, I continuously repeated to myself the speech I had prepared, the speech I intended to give to Stanford. And the second the elevator stopped moving and the doors slowly opened, I knew my time had come.
Seated on his chair, Stanford was pacing back and forth between all corners of the room, whether it was his desk, shelves, or even the ground, promptly standing up to grab some of his tools off the floor before he sat right back down. For but a moment, it was clear he had not yet noticed I was present in the room with him, until I took a few steps forward in his direction: then, he instantly recognized the sound of my footsteps and finally turned around to me.
From the other end of the room, he showed me a warm smile that made my heart flutter.
"Good afternoon, [Y/N]." He said cheerfully while he brushed the dust off his clothes with his hands. "How are you feeling today? Good, I hope."
"Good afternoon, Ford." I said back to him as I tried to sound as nonchalant as I could. "I'm fine, yes, thank you for asking. And what about you?"
"I'm doing great." He answered, still smiling. "In fact, I'm doing very well."
"Really, how so?"
"Well, I can't quite yet tell you much about it, but my current research is coming along nicely, to say it all." He told me with delight.
"Oh, that's fantastic news!" I exclaimed enthusiastically.
I stared at Stanford in the eyes, pretending to be jolly, when my heart rate was in fact racing.
"Oh, but enough about all that." He said as he took a step toward me while gesturing his hands. "Tell me, [Y/N], why are you not outside? I would have expected to see you out there, enjoying such a sunny day."
"You're one to talk, you know?" I teased him with a light chuckle. "But, as for me... Well..."
The old ceiling lamp above our heads emanated a low light that mixed in orange and red, which faintly reflected against the lenses of Stanford's glasses, making them sparkle just slightly.
"You see, Ford..." I started, the volume of my voice diminishing with each word. "God, it's just so hard to say it..."
As my hands began to tremble and awkwardly twist their fingers, he took yet another step in my direction, which brought him right in front of me.
"[Y/N], are you sure everything's all right?" He asked me with concern while he rested a delicate hand on one of my shoulders. "Is something the matter?"
To avoid his gaze, I lowered my head and stared at the ground, at my feet, just in front of his.
"Ford... There's something I have to tell you." I finally managed to say. "It's... really important... to me. That's why I'm here and not outside with the others."
While I spoke, I simply could not resist the urge to look down at Stanford's hand, holding my shoulder in place with a firm grip, yet without too much pressure; and the longer I stared at it, the longer I felt his touch on me, the more I could sense my heart pounding in my chest. I could tell my cheeks were progressively turning pink as I allowed my eyes to wander, leaving his hand to trace up his arm, detailing the outline of his muscles through the sleeve of his coat.
It's undeniable that the 30 years Ford spent stuck in-between dimensions have toughened him up... by a lot. I thought to myself. He's told me before that back when he and Stanley were little, he would get pushed around by other kids, even bullied. Then, growing up into adulthood, as a scientist and researcher, he never quite had a muscular physique, unlike his twin brother. But now, I look at him... and I can't help but feel a sense of pride seeing the man he has become.
I quickly pulled myself out of my thoughts and diverted my eyes from his arm, then cleared my throat before I looked back up at his face.
"I have to tell you that... I'm really glad that Stanley made the right choice to save you and bring you back here... and that Mabel decided not to press that button." I told him with genuine affection. "Stanford, I like you, and—"
"Oh, how sweet of you, [Y/N]." He exclaimed with a smile as he interrupted me. "I know it may not always seem like it, but I'm actually truly happy to be back, to be here, beside you all, even Stanley... And that includes you, of course. I like you too, [Y/N]."
With a grin still displayed on his face, he leaned forward and moved his hand from my shoulder to my head: his palm tousled my hair, after which he started to walk back to his desk, assuming our conversation was over and that he could go back to his work.
"T-Thank you, Ford, but you don't get it—" I said with a sad smile while I shook my head slowly, my eyebrows furrowed. "I like you, Stanford... I love you."
It felt as though my words echoed throughout the room, bouncing off the walls, surrounding us wholly, resonating within our heads. He immediately stopped walking, his foot frozen in mid-air, and remained still, his back turned to me; although I could not see his face, I could feel mine growing hot with blush, an expression of conflicted emotions on my face.
"... Hum— You know what? Forget I said anything." I mumbled as I stared at his back. "I... don't know what came over me, but just— Ignore it... please..."
The more I tried to express myself properly, the longer I spent choosing my words, the more teardrops escaped my eyes, rolling down across my cheeks and ending their course on the ground.
"This... must sound like complete nonsense to you... I'm sure you're thinking I've lost my mind."
While I still stared at his back, still turned to me, Stanford still motionless, I took a blind step backward, then another.
"... I'm very sorry to have disturbed you, Stanford... You may resume your work, now."
The second I finished speaking, I promptly turned around and nervously pressed the button on the elevator: and as I stepped inside, I anxiously waited to hear him say something, anything, but he remained quiet. I pressed a second button, this time to order the elevator to go back up to the surface. After a second of silence that felt excruciatingly long, the two doors closed, and the moment the elevator started to move, I broke into tears.
I was still sobbing when, shortly after, I walked out of the elevator, climbing the secret stairs back up to arrive back into the room. I was too emotionally compromised to truly scan my surroundings, but I was still able to tell all the others were still busy, as the room was still empty.
I need... to be alone... I told myself. I need to find a place... somewhere, anywhere...
I knew the attic was out of the question, considering Dipper and Mabel could have very well been there, and so was the kitchen, given how much time Stanley spent in it; the only place that was left, the only place I could think of was the secret room Soos had discovered the other day, by pure accident. Once standing in front of the door, I gave it a soft push with my hand, too feeble to put any amount of strength into my movements. But as physically weak as I felt, I stepped inside the room without even an ounce of hesitation.
Once I was in, I closed the door behind me then took a look around the dim room, plunged into darkness, and, soon enough, my eyes spotted a couch: without a second thought, I made my way to it and sat down, bringing both of my legs onto the sofa. The temperature in the room was quite cold, which forced me to bury my face into the sweater I was wearing, a sweater Mabel had knitted for me. And as I sat in the dark, I let my tears flow, pouring out of my eyes like a river.
For a while, although I had no notion of how long it had been, I did not move from my spot, nor did I stop weeping, surrounded by my overwhelming thoughts in the midst of obscurity. That was, until I heard the door of the room open behind me, in such a slow and gentle manner it was almost inaudible.
Without sticking my head out of my sweater, I shook my head at the sound.
"I don't know who you are, but frankly, I don't care." I let out in-between two tears, my voice muffled. "Please... go away... I just need some time on my own..."
Despite my pitiful request, the person decided to walk in anyway, and I felt my heart twist into knots when I recognized the sound of their footsteps on the creaking floor, the sound of old, muddy boots. They continued, growing closer and closer to me, until they stopped, right beside me, and after but only a second, I felt his body sit down on the couch, just next to mine.
"[Y/N]... Please, listen." Stanford started in a tone so gentle it was almost a whisper. "You may think you've lost your mind, but you're far from it, trust me."
His voice and his words reached my ears and instantly enveloped me in a sensation of safety, of warmth, of comfort, and a part of me was already soothed, just listening to them, no matter how much I craved to be alone at that moment.
Though hesitantly, I slowly raised my head from my sweater, revealing the upper part of my face, though the rest was still concealed: and in an instant, my eyes were met with his, his gaze soft and affectionate.
"Because of... what you've told me, you see yourself as a freak... as some kind of monster. And you know this is something I can relate to, [Y/N]. I've had similar thoughts in the past, when I was a child, after other people would make fun of me for my weirdness, especially my polydactyly. But no matter how many times I got pushed around, I always— Well, almost always had my brother by my side, to remind me I should not be ashamed of who I am... Just like you have us."
Ever so gently, Stanford extended one of his hands to me, reaching down into my sweater to grab my chin between his thumb and index finger. And that one single gesture tore my heart in half.
I already know how all of this is going to end... Ford is going to comfort me, to try and make me feel better, but he's not going to bring up again my love declaration, he's going to ignore my feelings for him... He'd rather avoid mentioning it, finding it easier to pretend as if it never happened... and this tension between us would remain.
With my face still held by his hand, he stared deeply into my eyes, though it appeared his confidence was progressively fading away.
"[Y/N], I... I don't... quite know how to say this..."
His face turned pink as he broke eye contact with me, his eyes restless.
"I've never really... done this type of thing... ever, you see, so..."
But eventually, after looking for the right words for some time, he looked back into my eyes, this time with strong determination.
"I love you too, [Y/N]." He blurted out bashfully.
Upon hearing his words, my eyes opened wide and my heart stopped beating. I was already convinced my imagination had played a trick on me, unable to believe what Stanford had just said to be the truth.
"... This... is not something I thought I would say today, but I assure you that I mean it, no matter how unbelievable it may sound to you." He further confessed, his words heavy. "I've had feelings for you ever since the day I first made your acquaintance. I saw you for the first time and... found you... beautiful. I talked to you for the first time and thought your personality was wonderful. Then I saw how well you got along with my family, with Stanley and the kids, and... I felt something I had never really felt before."
He marked a pause, his voice slightly shaky and his face shifting from pink to red.
"... A-And, at first, I couldn't believe it was love, I put the blame on... on the fact that you simply had been the first woman my eyes landed on after 30 years outside of this dimension, but—... But soon enough, I had to be rational and face the truth... I understood I truly had fallen for you."
Although I kept quiet, I could very distinctively tell what was going through Stanford's mind, especially given the facial expressions he was switching between as he spoke.
"But I... I didn't say anything." He continued, lowering his eyes to avoid mine. "I didn't know how to properly apprehend these feelings, how to confess them to you... For a man my age, all of this shouldn't be a problem, but... well, my experience is close to none. I understand your own hesitation regarding your feelings came from our age gap, and, quite frankly, so did mine. I just couldn't find a way to let you know about mine without coming across as a pervert... So I decided to bottle it all up."
After his last sentence, silence reigned for a moment, and I understood his speech had finally come to an end; the two of us were now staring straight at each other, our gazes locked on, neither of us saying a word. Only then did Stanford remember he was still holding my chin, and only then did he realize his speech had gone on for much longer than he himself had intended, judging by the look on his face. His eyes suddenly opened wide, his cheeks still buried under a thick layer of blush as he let go of my face, visibly embarrassed.
"I-I'm sorry, [Y/N]— I said too much, didn't I?" He asked me, seemingly shameful. "I must have spoken for too long— You said you wanted to be left alone, so... I'll be going, now—"
He hurriedly stood up from the sofa as he nervously pushed his glasses on his nose. He promptly made his way to the door of the room, but before I could let him get too far away from me, I extended an arm toward him and reached for the bottom of his coat: as he felt my hand tug at the fabric, he turned back around and looked at me, at the single tear rolling down my cheek.
"Stay." I said in a whisper. "... Please."
Stanford's eyes remained on me, on my face, which was now begging for his presence, and he could feel it; all while staring down at me, he walked back to the couch and sat back down, this time even closer to me, close enough to wrap his arms around my body and bring it down against his as he lay back slightly. His embrace felt warm and secure, yet so overwhelming as well. With my face nestled in the crook of his neck, I closed my eyes and took multiple deep breaths, his natural scent soothing me further with each passing second.
As I listened to the sound of his heart beating faster in his chest, I felt one of his hands rub my back gently, shortly followed by a kiss he left on the crown of my head. Both of us found peace and tranquility within that moment, that moment of serenity and quietness; but the silence did not last for long, as I let out a heavy sigh.
"... I'm sorry, Ford." I said, my voice slightly muffled against his skin.
"What for?" He kindly asked while looking down at me.
"For... all of this. For having waited all this time to let you know how I feel, and for having made you repress your own feelings. Because of me... we've wasted so much time we could have spent... this way."
Stanford chuckled, a genuine laugh that made my heart skip a beat and turned the tips of my ears red.
"You don't need to apologize for such things, [Y/N]." He stated as he brought his hands down on my shoulders.
With slow and gentle care, he pulled me out of his embrace, just slightly, just enough so that he could look down at me, so that our faces could meet, so that he could show me his bright smile.
"You're not responsible for any of this, and if we follow your way of thinking, logic would have it I need to apologize too. But neither of us is at fault, here. So, please, don't burden yourself with guilt."
With a shy smile, I closed my eyes and nodded. When I opened them again, I was still faced with his loving smile, with his affectionate gaze; and, after but a brief moment of uncertainty and indecision, I slowly brought my hand up to his face and gently rested my palm on his cheek, which led to the blush on his cheeks intensifying. As my fingers drifted down along his jaw and then his neck, I tilted my head a little.
I've... never really been this close to Ford before... It might take some getting used to... But I get the feeling that won't be an issue.
Our eyes gazed deeply into one another as my other hand found its way to his torso, my palm slowly rising and falling along his heaving chest, along the rhythm of his heartbeat. One of his hands left my shoulders to hold my waist, while the other held the nape of my neck, his fingers delicately running through my hair. Our faces grew closer to each other, the air around us filled with anticipation and excitement, until we both tilted our heads and closed our eyes: our lips met and our embrace grew tighter, finally sharing together this special moment we had waited so long to see happen.
My hand on his neck moved to the collar of his sweater, which I grabbed passionately while I felt Stanford furrow his eyebrows, his lips sighing against mine, cherishing the moment as he held me against his body. But the moment inevitably came to an end when we both pulled away, slightly out of breath, slightly panting, in an atmosphere that had all of a sudden become heavy. The two of us were still nervous, even now that we had kissed, and I could tell Stanford was feeling particularly awkward: with a soft smile, I tugged at his sweater and leaned forward to leave one more kiss on his lips, catching him off-guard. After I pulled away, I stared into his wide-open eyes with love as I caressed his blushing cheek.
"That was wonderful, Ford." I told him enthusiastically in a reassuring tone.
While still smiling, I readjusted his glasses on his nose a little better, seeing as they had slightly slipped down during our kiss.
"For a man in his 60s who's barely ever kissed a woman before, you're quite a good kisser." I added, teasing him playfully.
My compliment made him chuckle, somewhat awkwardly but mostly with genuine affection.
"Well... Thank you, [Y/N]." He said while blushing. "You're... really good yourself."
My body imitated his and I felt the redness on my face intensify as I giggled lightly. Both of his hands traveled back down around my waist, which he grabbed firmly, though without applying too much pressure.
"Well... The afternoon is far from over, so why don't you and I go back to the basement?" He suggested happily, visibly excited at the idea of keeping this conversation going elsewhere. "I'll show you a glimpse of what I've been working on these past few days."
"I like the sound of that." I replied just as happily.
With the help of my hips, his hands moved my body to the side, freeing his so that he could stand up from the couch: then, as he stared down into my eyes, he opened the palm of his hand to me.
"Then, let's get back to work... Shall we, sweetheart?"
I felt my pulse accelerate greatly upon hearing him call me by such a pet name, but I did my best to keep my composure as I nodded and put my palm in his.
Hand in hand, Stanford and I walked out of the room and headed to the basement, where we spent the rest of the day together, exchanging more than just words, until the sun went down and the moon went up.
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blindmagdalena · 1 month ago
Note
I know someone's already asked for the voice kink a couple times which I love your writing for those frfr but have you ever considered doing a hand kink prompt for homie? If I'm being real his hands are pretty
18+! 1.4k homelander x reader. finger sucking, vaginal fingering, grinding, dirty talk.
The first time you saw Homelander’s naked hands, the reveal left you feeling scandalized. His fingers are long and lithe, but not spindly. His nails are always clean–one positive thing you can say about those gloves–and nicely manicured into a rounded shape. 
Pronounced veins create sprawling patterns on the backs of them, disappearing into the spaces between his knuckles. His wrists are slender enough to look delicate, but the thrum of power in his touch proves they aren’t.
Suffice to say you’ve been obsessed with them ever since.
“Y’know, it takes real talent to make hand-holding feel perverse,” he says one day, one corner of his mouth arched in a lazy smile.
Days like this are your favorite. You’ve both been awake for hours, but getting out of bed hasn’t crossed your mind once. Not while you’re tucked in against him, his arm around your body, his hand cupped between yours.
His hands have been at the mercy of your reverence for the majority of the morning.
“What’s perverse?” you ask with a laugh, absently sliding your fingertips up and down the space between his fingers, your touch light and slow.
“You are,” he says, smile widening. “Never had my phalanges edged before.”
“I just like your hands, I think they’re beautiful,” you say, pressing your thumb up his palm in slow, firm slides. You move up each finger, feeling tiny knots disperse beneath the pressure like wood crackling in a fire. “And since you insist on hiding them so frequently, I have to take advantage where I can.”
“I do love it when you take advantage of me,” he purrs, his free hand sliding down your hip, gripping the meat of your thigh.
You grin, bringing the tips of his fingers to your lips so that you can kiss each and every one of them, finishing with his thumb.
His gaze drops to watch, fixated on the plushness of your mouth, and how it moves. You wet your lips with a swipe of your tongue that he follows with predator quickness. His rapt attention makes you feel as powerful as he is, all that raw power thrumming in the very hand you hold in yours.
Tentatively, he tugs at your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, eyes never leaving your mouth.
Watching him in turn, you open your mouth and take him into it, teeth scraping over his knuckle. His eyes darken at once, his own lips slightly parted, mirroring you subconsciously.
His thumb, like the rest of his hand, is smooth and without callouses. He tastes clean to a near clinical degree, but there’s a faint salt tang to remind you he’s still human. You trace the veins along the back of his hand before interlacing your fingers with his and squeezing.
With a sly little smile, you bite down just behind his knuckle while pushing your tongue against the pad of his thumb.
Homelander makes a rough noise in the back of his throat, his nails biting dull crescents into your thigh. His throat clicks dryly as he tries and fails to swallow back his hunger.
Pulling off of his thumb with a wet pop, you kiss a trail from his thumb to the divot between it and his index finger, moving leisurely. His skin is growing warmer and warmer against yours, and from where you’re holding his wrist, you feel his pulse quicken.
Particularly when you take his finger into your mouth again, savoring the way it seems to hum against your tongue. 
The feel of him reminds you of the static that would collect on old CRT screens; an invisible force that makes your tongue tingle. Beyond his beauty, he is otherworldly down to the core of his being. Unlike anyone you’ve ever been with.
It’s no wonder you’ve become addicted to him.
“Fuck,” he breathes, enraptured by the sight of you taking him to his last knuckle, your tongue swirling around his finger. 
His hand on your thigh moves and suddenly you’re moving, too. He manhandles you effortlessly onto your opposite side, his finger slipping from your mouth.
He repositions you to put your back to his chest, and with his arm under you, he brings his hand right back to your mouth, coaxing your lips open with his fingers.
Naturally, you greedily swallow down two of them without hesitation.
He groans softly at your ear, kissing the sensitive spot just behind it. Meanwhile his other hand moves down your side, down your belly, slipping into the space between your thighs.
“So warm,” he murmurs, and you’re not sure if he means your mouth or your cunt, his fingers toying with your clit, but you don’t care. You shiver, letting out a quiet moan of your own against his fingers. “So soft.”
You start to match his strokes, drawing back to lick at just the tip of his middle finger the same way he’s teasing your clit.
He catches on quickly, pushing his fingers further back to massage your cunt, only to suddenly pull them away.
You protest with a sharp little nip, but he doesn’t stay gone for long. You hear him suck his own fingers into his mouth–a mental image that by itself makes your pussy throb–and all at once his fingers are back upon you, wet and pushing in.
You moan, pulling his hand to take his fingers deeper into your mouth, tongue pushing between them. The feel of him is absolutely unreal, and everything you enjoy about him on your tongue and your lips is amplified tenfold when he’s sinking into your cunt.
With his fingers buried inside you, he presses you firmly back into him and grinds his cock against the curve of your ass, already hard.
You purposefully arch back into him, hollowing your cheeks sucking on his fingers, bobbing your head in time with his fingers pushing in and out of your pussy.
It feels like heaven to have both of his hands inside you, fucking you, pinning you against his chest where you can feel the tension of his restraint, of his power.
With a rough little gasp you pull off of his two fingers only to take three instead. To your delight, he takes the hint and adds a third between your legs, the aching stretch so good it makes your thighs quiver and clench.
“Fffuck,” he grits out, matching his own pace with how he grinds against your ass, smearing wetness from his leaking tip. 
You can feel how close he is by the faint tremble of his hand, how he’s holding himself back. 
Not to be outdone, he angles his thumb to work your clit, the shock of sensation causing you to bite down on his fingers suddenly.
It makes him moan.
“That’s it, bite down hard, sweetheart. Lemme feel how bad you want it,” he says, the dam officially broken. “You know you can’t hurt me, don’t you? So do it, bite all you want. You like my fingers so much, you’re gonna cum spitroasted on them.”
It works. His words push you over the edge you’d been teetering on, plummeting you down into a surge of pleasure that washes over your entire body, that makes your breath halt and your jaw clench.
While your release is a silent and internal thing, Homelander’s is not.
He growls in your ear, mercilessly fucking you with his fingers through the quakes of your orgasm. He’s murmuring filth and desire and need until he’s choking on the words, gasping his pleasure as he comes against you, a wash of white hot deliciously searing your ass and lower back.
By the end of it you’re both panting, bodies slack against the bed, his hand splayed on the pillow next to your head, his fingers still buried in your quivering cunt.
With what strength you can muster, you slip your hand into his, interlacing your fingers and squeezing. He returns the gesture, stroking your hand with his thumb while he recovers.
“S’mazing…” you slur, tongue and body blissfully loose.
He peppers soft kisses along your neck, nuzzling against you. “Told you it was perverse.”
“You made it sexual.”
“You complaining?”
You don’t respond.
“That’s what I thought,” he says, his smile audible in each word.
Staring at your hands interlaced on the pillow, you smile, too.
They look beautiful together.
“I love you.”
He squeezes your hand. “And I love you.”
200 notes · View notes
0o-junebug-o0 · 1 month ago
Note
Hihi! I adore your work! I was wondering if you could write a (sub) Spencer x (soft Dom) Reader smut,
where Spencer is feeling comfortable in hands tied bondage after Hankel situation!
"Tie Me Up"
Here you go!! I had fun writing this one! It was a nice break from school work haha
genre: smut
cw: 18+ mdni! sub!spencer, softdom!reader, bondage, references to spencer's kidnapping, dirty talking, praise, use of good boy, handjobs, oral sex (r!reviving), face sitting, nipple play, multiple orgasms, gn!reader (reader has a vagina but nothing else is specified), no use of y/n, autistic!spencer (because every spencer is autistic!spencer), aftercare, cuddling
wordcount: 3k
“I want you to tie me up.”
Your head shoots up and you look across the room at Spencer with wide eyes, confused. “What?”
He flushes and his eyes dart to the side before moving back to your face. “I, um, I want you to tie me up,” he says, sounding a bit less confident this time.
You nod slowly, trying to wrap your head around Spencer’s sudden proposal. You haven’t done anything like this in a while, not since before he was kidnapped by Tobias Hankel. You can’t help but feel a little concerned at his request, you don’t want him to push himself to do something he’s not comfortable with just because you enjoy it.
“Are you sure?” you ask warily. “You know I wouldn’t mind if we never do that again.”
“Do you not want to?” Spencer asks, sounding more nervous than before.
You shake your head. “No, no, that’s not it,” you reassure him. “I just—“ you pause, trying to find the right words. “I don’t want you to do something you’re not ready for. All I meant was that if you’re never ready, that’s fine. I’d completely understand if you’d never want to be tied up again after—“
“I want to,” Spencer interrupts. 
“Okay,” you say.
“I miss it.”
You nod. Your gaze falls to his beautiful hands where they rest in his lap as he plays with his fingers. You’ve missed it too. “And you’re sure about this?”
“Yes.”
“You have to promise me that if you stop feeling good you’ll tell me immediately,” you insist.
Spencer nods, a shy smile crossing his face. “I know. I remember.” You shoot him a pointed look and he adds, “I promise.”
You nod and pat your thigh. “Come here,” you command softly.
Spencer immediately scrambles to get out of his chair and crosses the room to stand in front of you. He pauses for a moment, looking between the couch and the floor, knowing each option is available and welcomed, before settling on his knees on the ground in front of you. You smile and reach out to run a hand through his hair. He hums softly, his eyes slipping closed, and presses his head into your palm. 
“My beautiful boy,” you sigh.
He opens his eyes and takes your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles, making eye contact with you as he does.
You lean forward to rest your elbows on your knees and stare intently into Spencer’s eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort or apprehension. Finding none, you nod. “When do you want me to tie you up, sweetheart?” you ask softly.
“Now,” he whispers. “Please.”
You raise your eyebrows at him and let your gaze fall to the growing bulge in his pants. He clearly wants this and that reassures you. “Okay,” you agree. Spencer smiles brightly up at you. “But, we’re going to go slow, do you understand?”
Spencer nods obediently.
“I won’t tie you up completely today, we’ll just start with your hands.”
Spencer opens his mouth, you think maybe to argue, but you shoot him a look and he closes it. “This is non-negotiable,” you say. “I don’t feel comfortable completely tying you up again yet. I know you feel ready but I don’t want to risk it.”
Spencer nods, looking deep into your eyes.
“And I’m going to use a knot you can undo yourself if you need to. Also non-negotiable, I want you to be able to free yourself the moment you need to without having to wait for me to untie you myself or cut you free. Do you understand?”
Spencer nods again.
“Words, Spencer.”
“Yes,” he says, his voice breathy with obvious arousal.
You smirk and whisper, “Good boy.”
A soft whimper escapes Spencer’s lips at the praise and the sound drives you crazy. You push yourself off the couch and stand still for a moment, just admiring the way Spencer stares up at you so desperately. “C’mon, beautiful, follow me.” Immediately, Spencer scrambles to his feet and follows you like a lovesick puppy to your shared bedroom.
You stop in the middle of the room and turn around to face Spencer. You look him up and down, he looks gorgeous, but he’s wearing way too many clothes. “Strip,” you command, and Spencer instantly obeys. You watch with a pleased smile as Spencer practically rips off his clothes, so eager for you to touch him. The sight of him naked and hard makes your stomach flip and sends heat shooting between your legs. You can feel yourself starting to soak through your underwear, seeing Spencer naked never fails to drive you crazy. 
You close the gap between you in a single step and kiss him gently, wrapping your arms around his waist. He sighs happily against your lips and his hands shoot up to cup your face. You let your hands slip down to grab handfuls of his ass and you pull him up against your hips, making him moan into your mouth. You slip your tongue between his lips and Spencer eagerly follows your lead. Spencer’s hands fall from your cheeks to paw at your shirt and you break the kiss for a moment to let him pull it over your head.
Heat rushes through your body as you continue to kiss him and you maneuver him around, guiding him back until his knees hit the bed. Spencer breaks the kiss with a gasp as he stumbles slightly, falling until he’s sitting on the bed, supporting his weight on his arms. He stares up at you with wide, lust-blown eyes and pouts slightly when you move away.
“I’ll be right back, sweetheart,” you coo, quickly ridding yourself of your pants and soaked underwear. You walk over to the dresser and open the drawer in which you both keep your toys. You grab the red silk rope and glance over your shoulder at him as you hold it up. “You wanted me to tie you up, remember?”
Spencer’s eyes get impossibly wider and he nods rapidly. “Yes, please. Want it,” he gasps. 
“Aw, baby,” you purr. “You’re so desperate already that you can barely speak.”
Spencer nods again and his cock twitches in his lap, but he’s a good boy and doesn’t touch himself. You unravel the small ball of rope as you walk back over to him. As you get closer you can hear Spencer’s breathing pick up with excitement. You love seeing him like this, you can feel your arousal clinging to your thighs.
You stop in front of him and say, “Hands.”
Spencer lifts his hands and holds them out to you, wrists pressed together and palms facing each other but leaving a few inches between them. His breath hitches and he stares intently at his hands. You pause and glance down, noticing his erection has flagged slightly. You look back up and into his eyes and see some apprehension. You smile softly at him and flip his hands so his palms are facing the ceiling before resting the rope in them. Spencer looks up at you, his brow slightly furrowed with confusion. 
“Hold the rope,” you say soothingly. “Feel it.”
Spencer nods, despite clearly still being confused, and closes his hands around the rope. You watch in silence for a moment as he runs the rope through his fingers and stares at it.
“It’s soft, isn’t it?” you ask, though you know he's familiar with this rope already. Spencer nods in response, still playing with the rope. “You’ll be able to free yourself at any time,” you continue. “You’re home, you’re safe. I’m going to take care of you.”
Spencer purses his lips in one of his closed-mouth smiles. “Thank you,” he whispers, still looking at the rope even though his hands have stilled.
“Do you still want to do this?” you ask softly.
“Yeah,” Spencer whispers. He hands you the rope and looks back up at you. You smile at him and reach out to cup the back of his neck with your free hand, pulling him into a gentle kiss. Spencer’s hands lower to hold your waist and you set the rope on the bed and climb into his lap as the kiss begins to increase in intensity. You can feel him getting hard again underneath you and you moan at the feeling as arousal burns through your body. 
You grind your hips against his, letting his cock rub up against you, and Spencer gasps weakly into your mouth. His hands slide down to grab your ass and you groan. His hips buck beneath you and it takes a tremendous amount of self-control to pull away. Spencer pouts as you climb off of him but it quickly disappears when you pick the rope back up. 
He immediately holds his hands out again but you guide him back until he’s lying in the middle of the bed, propped up slightly on your pillows. He raises his arms above his head, and you whisper soft praises to him as you wrap the rope around his wrists and one of the slats of the headboard. You tie a simple quick-release single-column knot and slip the part of the rope that allows for the quick release into Spencer’s hand. He gives you a dopey smile and you press a quick kiss to his beautiful lips. 
“If you need to get out, you tell me and pull on that, okay?” you instruct.
Spencer nods happily, squirming and tugging gently on the rope around his wrists.
“Words, baby.”
“Yes,” he gasps.
“Good boy,” you coo and his hips buck into the air.
You place your hand on one of his hips and dig your thump into the dip just next to the bone. Spencer gasps and writhes at the feeling. You smirk at him and swing your leg over him to straddle his thighs, sitting just below his cock. You hold both of his hips to support yourself as you slowly start to grind against him, rubbing your clit on his thigh. 
Spencer whines your name, staring at you with wide pleading eyes as you avoid touching his cock in favor of your own pleasure. “Please!” he gasps. “Please! I need you!”
“Yeah?” you tease. “What do you need me to do baby?”
“Need you to touch me!” he begs.
You remove your hands from his hips, sliding them up over his stomach to his chest. You rub your thumbs over his nipples and Spencer moans. The sound travels like a shock of electricity through your body. You pinch his nipples between your fingers and his hips jerk beneath you, knocking his thigh against your clit, making you moan. You can feel how wet you’ve gotten him. “N–not like that,” he whines, his words interrupted by moans as you toy with him.
“No?” you ask, feigning ignorance. “Where do you want me to touch you baby?”
“My–“ You pinch his nipples again and he’s once again interrupted by the sound of his own pleasure. “My cock!” he begs. “Want you to touch my cock!”
“Aw, baby,” you tease breathlessly. “You—“ You moan as his hips buck again, pressing his thigh harder against you. “You should have said so.”
Spencer whines pathetically at your teasing but the sound is soon transformed into a moan as you wrap your hand around his cock. He gasps your name over and over as you stroke him. He squirms and writhes beneath you. You can see the muscles of his arms tensing as he tries to reach down to touch you but is stopped by the rope. You notice the quick release has fallen from his hand, so, still stroking him, you reach up and give it back to him. He doesn’t pull it so you keep touching him. 
“So good! So good!” Spencer gasps. “Love you! Love you so much!”
You rise up onto your knees and, bracing your free hand against the bed, lean forward and kiss him, continuing to stoke him despite the awkward angle. “I love you too, baby,” you whisper between kisses. You kiss across his jaw, down his neck, and back up to his ear. “Such a good boy for me. My good boy.”
Spencer whimpers desperately. “’M close! ‘M so close!”
You remove your hand and settle back onto his thighs, watching as Spencer whimpers and writhes in disappointment as he’s unable to cum. He whines your name and you press a kiss to his chest. “You wanna cum, pretty boy?”
He nods desperately, his hair sticking to his beautifully flushed face.
“Yeah? Well, I want to cum too,” you taunt.
Spencer’s eyes widen and his mouth falls open as if anticipating what you’re going to say. His chest rises and falls heavily with each panted breath.
“So eager,” you tease and Spencer nods frantically.
“Please!” he gasps.
“You want me to sit on your face, baby?”
“Yes!” Spencer cries. “Please!” 
You smile. You can feel him squirming with desperation beneath you. You press another kiss to his chest and slowly crawl up his body until you’re straddling his face, your knees braced on either side of his arms. Spencer whines and whimpers, tugging on the rope with his desperation to touch you. 
“Remember, sweetheart,” you say softly. Spencer stares hungrily at where your cunt hovers just over his mouth. “Snap if you need me off.”
“Yes!” he gasps, and, without giving a chance to prepare, lifts his head to run his tongue over you.
A strangled gasp leaves you as pleasure shoots through your body and you sink until you’re almost completely sitting on Spencer’s mouth, the way you know he likes it. Your hands shoot up to grab the headboard as you curl forward from the pleasure. Spencer eats you out with a fervor unique to him, practically devouring you. He pulls gasps and moans from your chest as he flicks his tongue over your clit. Then he’s wrapping his lips around it and sucking in a way that has you seeing stars. He mouths hungrily at you, alternating between licking and sucking your clit and pressing his tongue inside you. 
“Spencer!” you gasp. You grind yourself down onto his tongue, unable to help yourself, and Spencer moans into you. The vibrations send pleasure shooting through your body. He removes his tongue and returns to sucking on your clit, moaning consistently. With how turned on you are, it doesn’t take long for the familiar heat to start traveling up your spine. 
“Fuck! Such a good boy! Doing so good! Feels so good!” you moan. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum!”
At your words, Spencer begins to eat you out with an even greater intensity and soon your climax is slamming into you. You gasp his name, as your whole body shakes with the intensity of it. Spencer works you through it until you’re panting and gasping and when you pull off of him to sit beside his head, his face is soaked and he smiles up at you happily. 
“Fuck, Spencer,” you groan. “You’re so good at that.”
He licks his lips and whimpers. You see his hips jerk out of the corner of your eye and you smirk at him. You quickly reach around and grab a condom from the top drawer of your nightstand. You hold it up to show him and Spencer’s eyes widen.
“Please!” he gasps. “Oh, fuck! Please! Want you to fuck me! Please!”
You chuckle slightly and tear open the packaging. Spencer whimpers and gasps your name as you roll the condom over his cock. You stroke him a few times and he thrusts weakly into your hand. 
You swing your leg over him, grab his cock to line him up, and quickly sink down onto him. You both moan simultaneously at the feeling and it feels so good you have to take a second to just breathe. You rest your hands on Spencer’s chest and slowly push yourself onto your knees before sinking back down. A delicious moan tears itself from Spencer’s and his eyes flutter shut with pleasure. You can tell he won’t last long, but you’re still so sensitive from your previous orgasm that you won’t either. 
Moans and incoherent babbles pour from Spencer’s lips as you ride him. His hips thrust up to meet you on each downstroke, slamming his cock right into that spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. You moan and gasp his name and praise him as you fuck him. Heat once again rises in your body as you get close and you can tell from the way Spencer’s whole body twitches, he’s close too. You drop yourself back down as his hips rise to meet yours and suddenly he’s cumming, and the sound of his moans and the feeling of his cock pulsing inside of you has you cumming too.
You clench around him, grinding down on his cock, as you work you both through it. Once your orgasm fades, you fall forward, resting your head on Spencer’s chest, listening to his heartbeat and feeling the warmth of his skin and the way his chest rises and falls with each heavy breath. You press a soft kiss to his skin before sitting back up with a groan and lifting yourself off of him. Spencer whines weakly at the feeling and you press your forehead against his for a moment to soothe him. You pull away and remove the condom, quickly tying it off and dropping it into the tiny trashcan you keep beside your bed for this exact reason. 
With the condom disposed of, you reach up to tug on the quick release. The knot unravels easily and Spencer opens his eyes as the rope slips off his wrists. You toss the rope aside and take his hands in yours. “You did so good, Spencer,” you coo. “I’m so proud of you.” Spencer smiles up at you contentedly as you massage his hands and wrists. You slowly lower his arms to rest on his chest, whispering praises as you rub and squeeze them to encourage blood flow. 
After a few minutes, Spencer curls up against your side with a sigh and you lay down next to him, massaging his hands until he falls asleep.
_____
REQUESTS ARE (temporarily) CLOSED!
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370 notes · View notes
reixtsu · 3 months ago
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hello! how are you? I dont know if you do multi characters, but if not, then one of these characters is alright! ^^ i like to request wanderer, tighnari, wrio, and neuvillete (separately) witnessing/dealing with nice guy who's hitting on their partner (gn! reader) and what they would do if the nice guy doesn't get the hint that the reader is taken, please. ^^ thank you and have a nice day!
Hi anon! I’m sorry that it took me a long time to respond to this request, and the fact that I’m still working on the second half is kinda bad… but your request will be fulfilled first. Please enjoy!
Wanderer, and Tighnari dealing with a nice guy hitting on their partner.
(Wriothesley and Neuvillette coming soon)
Warnings: jealous boys alert, Wanderer is a tsundere
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Wanderer
It’s been far too long now -an eternity, really- of you chatting with some random student from the academy. From his spot in the distance, Wanderer watched in silence, taking slow, deliberate sips from his bitter tea. Each sip did little to ease the tight knot forming in his chest. His frown deepened as he observed the student's overly cheerful demeanor, the way his eyes lit up when you laughed at his every joke. Wanderer’s grip tightened around his cup, the edges of his irritation sharpening with each passing moment.
Wanderer continued to down his cup of tea, one after another, as if they were bottles of beer. Setting his last cup down with a jarring thud, he looked down, glaring at you with his peripheral vision.
"It's impressive that you managed to make the journey all the way from Inazuma to Sumeru, Hajime," you praised the student, your voice warm and sincere as you flashed that irresistible smile of yours. "I'm really glad you're here.”
"Me, impressive? I beg to differ."
"Why is that?"
"Well, you are very accomplished," Hajime said simply. "Helping everyone, so intelligent. You are a role-model for all." he winked at the end.
Wanderer nearly choked on his own spit, his breath catching in his throat. How on earth were you tolerating this man—and giving him compliments, no less? (And why wasn’t he the one receiving them?) His mind buzzed with disbelief and irritation, the questions swirling in his head. What right did this plain, insignificant nobody have to be so close to you? He let out a shaky breath, struggling to silence the spiraling thoughts before they consumed him entirely.
"Aren't you nice," You chuckled.
"Say..." Hajime hesitated, shyly placing a hand on your shoulder. "Would you like to join me at the tavern one of these days, dear?"
Wanderer instantly shot up from his seat, his eyes narrowing into a piercing glare directed at Hajime. How could he? Had he completely lost his mind? The audacity! Wasn’t it blatantly obvious that you were spoken for? His disbelief simmered into a potent mix of anger and possessiveness, the intensity of his emotions threatening to boil over.
You smiled awkwardly, not too sure how to approach the situation. "Um, I'm sorry."
"I know you have a partner, but I heard that he is very rude. Let me treat you for a day."
You chuckled, sweating a bit as you stepped away. "Oh, uh... He's really nice to me though, so there's no need to worry."
Hajime's eyes softened. "There's no need to lie. If a guy is toxic, why stay with him?"
“Hands off,” came a gruff voice, as Wanderer seemed to materialize out of thin air, his presence sudden and imposing. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, and he leveled a glare of pure disdain at Hajime, as if he were nothing more than an irritating pest. And in Wanderer’s eyes, that’s exactly what he was.
Hajime raised an eyebrow at him, curious as to why he was acting so protective of you. "And you are...?"
"Their partner, obviously," Wanderer spat, his voice laced with venom as he roughly seized your hand, gripping it with a possessiveness that bordered on harshness, as if you were a dog being yanked by its leash. Hajime frowned at the scene, his expression hardening as he crossed his own arms, clearly displeased by Wanderer's aggressive display.
"You're the one who is rude to them, no? Even after all of what they've done for you."
“Don’t talk like you’ve known them their whole life,” Wanderer sneered, his voice dripping with disgust. “Those are just baseless rumors, idiot. You’d have to be a fool to believe any of that.” Hajime’s eyes flashed with irritation, as if the mere suggestion was an insult to his intelligence.
You nodded, leaning your head on Wanderer's shoulder. "Yeah. Besides, Wanderer here is like a black cat. Sure, he's rude, but he actually is really sweet." You kissed his temple for emphasis."
Hajime frowned, his mouth opening and closing like a fish struggling to find the right words, clearly wanting to protest but ultimately deciding against it. With a reluctant sigh, he offered a small, respectful bow before turning away, choosing to leave without uttering another word.
Wanderer let out a relieved sigh, one that was barely audible. "Finally. That pest was getting on my nerves."
You smirked, feeling Wanderer's grip on your arm . You watched as he looked away, a small pout forming on his perfect lips. "Why were you so interested in him anyways? He was a nobody.
In your mind you translated that to 'why were you being sweet to him and not me?'. You smiled, leaning forwards to kiss his forehead. "I was just hearing his stories of his journey here. That's all."
All you heard was a small hmph. "Whatever," huffed, lowering his hat down with his hand. "Let's just go home now."
"Does my baby want cuddles?"
"You goober, I hate cuddles!!”
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Tighnari
You and Tighnari were busy gathering flowers for the upcoming banquet in honor of your friend when you encountered a fellow forest ranger. He was tall, friendly, and exuded a natural charm that seemed to radiate from him effortlessly. As you engaged in conversation, everything seemed pleasant—light-hearted jokes and genuine compliments flowed easily. However, the atmosphere took a sudden turn, escalating into a situation that Tighnari could only describe as disgraceful.
"You've actually seen an aranara? That's so cool!" The random guy said, impressed.
"It's not a big deal, really," you said with a touch of humility, though you couldn’t ignore the enthusiastic reaction you’d provoked. With a polite smile, you continued, "By the way, what’s your name, sir?”
"Ah, the name's Arash, but you can call me yours," He winked. "What's your name, lovely?"
Tighnari visibly cringed, his ear twitching and his tail flicking in irritation. He watched with growing dismay as you smiled at the ranger, chuckling at his so-called 'funny' behavior.
"Y/n," You said, extending your hand in the graceful way you always do. "A pleasure to meet you."
"The pleasure's all mine," Arash extended his hand, attempting to shake yours before a hand got in between.
Tighnari had his eyes closed, his ears twitching in annoyance as he wore an irritated smile. "If I may interrupt, my dear here is already taken."
Arash's eyes widened, surprised. "Really? By whom?"
"Me," Tighnari said, his voice firm as he wrapped his tail possessively around your legs. "So enough with the flirting. We were in the middle of picking flowers, so if you have nothing else to do, you may leave." He offered a tight smile, clearly signaling for Arash to go.
Arash looked at Tighnari, at you, then back to Tighnari. "Right. I apologize. Have a nice day." He bowed his head and waved, turning around to leave.
Tighnari let out a sharp breath through his nostrils, his arms crossing defensively over his chest. "When someone starts flirting with you, you should tell them to stop! You're already taken," he said, his tone stern and unyielding.
You chuckled, bringing your hand up to scratch his soft hair. "Ha! Sorry, I just found him interesting."
He raised an eyebrow, clearly displeased by the response. "Excuse me?" he said, his tone sharp.
"Not as interesting as you, of course," You scratched his ear lovingly.
Tighnari, of course, leaned into your touch, a sense of relief starting to wash over him as he subconsciously began to relax.
"...Let's continue picking flowers, shall we?”
355 notes · View notes
libingan · 4 months ago
Text
i just graduated yesterday!!! and ive been having back pains since the morning before the graduation. even now, im still in pain dsajkds so i thought why not make a fic abt kyle giving reader a real nice massage😉😉😉!!! except, let’s make it male reader because why not????
um, idk how to do warnings and shit…
does this count as dubcon??? idk, theres a part where reader tries to stop him, but its very brief??? so im not sure????
just to be safe, ill tag it as dubcon bc i literally do not know SHDJWJSJW pls tell me if it is or isnt!!!
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after a long, grueling day, you return to your barracks, each step sending a sharp twinge of pain through your lower back. a low grumble escapes you, cursing about how the weight of your gear feels like it’s compressing your spine and you can barely find the energy to unbuckle the heavy straps.
once you finally enter your room, you quickly drop the gear onto the floor, a loud sigh of relief escaping you, despite the lingering ache. you stretch lightly, trying to ease the tension in your muscles, but it only causes you to wince in pain.
you trudged towards your bed, carelessly flopping onto the soft mattress. you didn’t even bother stripping off your clothes, too eager to finally get the rest you’ve been craving the whole day.
the silence in your barracks gives you time to think about the relentless duties your line of work brings. you love it, no doubt about that, but sometimes you can’t help but wonder why you love what you do when shit like this happens.
a heavy exhale leaves your lips, and just as you were about to finally get some sleep, a knock on your door disrupts your plans.
you groan loudly into your pillow, forcing yourself off the bed as you slowly made your way to the door, face scrunched up in discomfort as you rubbed your lower back.
once you reach the door, you twist the doorknob and pull it open, revealing your superior, sergeant kyle garrick. you blink at him in surprise. what the hell is he doing here?
“sergeant,” you greet him with a nod, “what brings you here?”
kyle nods back at you, walking into your barracks without a single word. he closes the door behind him before addressing you. “how’s your back?”
you’re caught off guard, not expecting him to notice. you straighten up at his question, the persistent ache in your back making itself known, but you’re determined not to show it.
“it’s… manageable,” you reply.
kyle hums, eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion at your response. “manageable, you say?” he muses, “i’ve seen that wince. go get on the bed, lay on your stomach.”
“…what?”
the man standing in front of you sighs, ushering you towards the bed. “gotta make sure i keep the team in shape, yeah?”
surprisingly, you find yourself unable to resist the way kyle smiles so charmingly at you. with a sigh, you make sit by the edge of your bed. “do i keep my shirt on or—“
“take it off.” kyle immediately replies. he clears his throat right after, still smiling at you. “you can take it off, if you want. it’d make this easier for me if you did.”
you shrug, pulling off your shirt and hanging it by a nearby chair. kyle’s gaze flicker down your body, his eyes gleaming with… something. you can’t tell what, but it’s there. “good. lie down.”
you wordlessly comply, moving to lie on your stomach, just as kyle had instructed. he shuffles to straddle your hips, perching himself on your butt.
kyle places his hands on your back, working on the tight knots with practiced skills. his fingers are firm, yet gentle, kneading your sore muscles with rhythmic motion.
after a few moments, he pauses, “where do you want my hands?” he asks.
“low… a little lower, please… near the spine—fuuuuck, just like that…” you suck in a breath, eyes fluttering shut as kyle applies the perfect amount of pressure on that one spot.
“right here?” he moves his hands in slow, circular motions, pressing into the indicated spot.
“yesss… yes, right there,” you respond, a sigh of relief escaping your lips. as he continues to work his magical hands on the sore area, you can’t help but let out a few (a lot) of appreciative moans and groans. “feels so much better, holy shit,” you murmur, a soft hum leaving you.
kyle’s breathing hitches, and he tries to maintain his composure, but how can he? you sound so pretty, moaning from his simple touch. he can’t help it if he finds himself responding to the sound of your relief. the gentle sounds you make as he presses into the knots bring out an unwelcome reaction, stirring his arousal.
fuck, he can feel himself getting hard. kyle knows he should stop. he stills his hands, ready to pull away, but when he hears you whine out his name so softly…
he can’t help it when his hands travel lower, toying with the waistband of your jeans, wanting nothing more than to pull them off.
“…sergeant?” you call out, looking over you shoulder to catch his heated gaze. kyle gently shushes you, pressing his crotch against your clothed ass. “it’s okay. im gonna take care of you, i swear. just let me, okay?” he whispers, lifting up your hips enough to unbutton your jeans.
you try to push yourself up, but kyle tuts in disapproval, gently pushing you back down. “no. just stay down. be good for me, okay?”
“sergeant, we shouldn’t—“
“it’s kyle.” he quickly cuts you off, unzipping your jeans, slowly pulling them down. “remember that, yeah? wanna hear you moaning that name in a bit.”
his words send a rush of heat flowing through your veins, heading straight down to your cock. you mutter a few curses under your breath before lifting your hips up a little to give him more space to pull your jeans and boxers off.
“there we go…” kyle throws the clothes off the bed, his hands immediately kneading the soft flesh of your ass. “where have you been hiding this thing, man?” he teases, lightly slapping your cheek, watching it jiggle from the force.
you don’t even bother responding, only rolling your eyes at his comment. kyle chuckles at this, shaking his head in amusement.
“got nothing to say?” he gently parts your cheeks apart, licking his lips at the sight of your puckered hole. “fuckin’ hell…” he groans, feeling himself throb in his pants. “can i?”
you bury your head into your arms, nodding. you doubt kyle would take no for answer anyway.
without another word, kyle lowers his head, tongue darting out to lick a fat stripe across your hole, groaning at the taste.
you shiver from the sensation, a shaky sigh leaving you as you glance over your shoulder to see kyle, eyes shut and brows knitted together, half of his face disappearing in between your ass cheeks as the tip of his tongue breaches your hole, circling the muscle before slowly prodding inside.
“kyle, wait, this is really dirty—fuck!” you moan again, burying your face into the pillows.
“s’not dirty, love, just let me make you feel good…” kyle mutters, pulling away to spit on your hole, watching the glob of saliva roll down to your balls. “lift your hips up f’me.”
you nod, raising your hips with the help of kyle’s hands. he gently pats your bum in approval before moving closer behind you, reaching in front of you to position two fingers to your lips. “suck.”
you eagerly take his long, slender fingers into your mouth, slobbering your spit all over the digits, drool slowly dripping down his palm. you swirled your tongue around his fingers, moaning when he catches the wet muscle with ease, pressing them down before pulling his hand away, causing you to whine from the loss.
“patience, boy,” he chuckles, planting kisses down your spine before spreading your ass cheeks once more with one hand. “relax, okay?”
you nod your head, trying to ease your mind as kyle’s fingers trace around the rim of your hole. “im going to push it in. take a deep breath for me, love.” he says, and you do as you’re told.
he smiles at your obedience, finger slowly sinking into your tight hole. kyle can’t see your face, so he relies on the sounds you make to know if you’re still enjoying this.
“how’s it feel?” he asks, pausing his movements momentarily. you swallow the lump in your throat, voice coming out shaky as you reply, “…w-weird, but you can… you can keep going.”
“good boy,” he praises, resuming the movement of his finger. once he finally sunk in the entirety of his finger, kyle stills himself, waiting for some sort of negative reaction.
all kyle gets in return is a needy whine for more leaving your lips.
he grins at that, sliding in the second finger into your crack. “how does it feel?”
“i feel like i’m about to take a fucking shit,” you grit your teeth, clenching around kyle’s
fingers.
“you aren’t, don’t worry.” kyle reassures you. “im gonna move, is that okay?”
when you finally give him the green light, he lets out a low chuckle, circling his fingers inside of you.
you shudder at the feeling, your aching back completely forgotten as kyle fucks you on his fingers.
“tell me how this feels,” kyle whispers, lightly pressing the pad of his fingers against a certain one spot that has you seeing fucking stars.
“oh, fuck—“ you gasp, eyes rolling into the back of your head, your neglected cock leaking pre onto the sheets. “again. again. please.”
kyle smirks at that. you can’t see it, but you can already imagine the smug look on his face. “like this?” he asks, fingers curling against your prostate intently, determined to bring you over to the edge.
“yes! yes—oh my god-!” you mewl, hands going up to each side of your head to grab and twist at the pillow beneath you, knuckles turning white from your grip.
you bury your face into the pillow, muffling your moans, which have increased in volume with each curl of kyle’s fingers. the sergeant lets out a breathy laugh at the sight of you, lowering his head down to your ass before licking at the rim of your hole, his free hand moving to wrap around your cock, stroking it in time with his fingers.
“haah—fuck! fuck, kyle! please—i-i’m so—“ you try to speak.
“mmhm, just let go…” he mumbles, doubling his efforts.
you groan, muscles trembling as you try to keep your hips upright, head lolling down in between your arms. you can’t help but fuck yourself against him, biting the pillow in an attempt to stifle your moans.
“i-i’m almost—“ a broken moan leaves you, the coil in your stomach tightening, the pleasure running up your spine, and you know you can’t hold back any longer.
it’s then that kyle applies more pressure to your prostate, fisting your cock with renewed vigor. that’s all it takes for you to cum all over the sheets, your orgasm crashing down on you like a tidal wave.
your vision whitens temporarily as kyle continues curling his fingers, milking you for all your worth.
“kyle—i can’t, no,” you whimper, feeling a mixture of pain and pleasure as he crosses the side of too much.
slowly and carefully, kyle pulls his head away, along with his fingers. he gently lets go of your softening cock, watching as you slump on the bed, exhausted.
he wipes his fingers off on his pants. it’s a little gross, but kyle doesn’t care too much about it.
“you okay?” kyle asks, using his clean hand — the one that wasn’t in your ass — to rub soft circles into your back.
“never been better,” you answer, panting heavily as you move your head to the side, looking over your soldier to see kyle’s concerned, but also slightly amused expression. “my back’s still aching.”
kyle lets out a hearty laugh at that, rolling his eyes playfully. “i’ll get to that later,” he says, pressing his clothed cock between your asscheeks. “i got something aching here too, love, and you owe me one.”
yeah, your back pain didn’t get any better after that.
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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 11 months ago
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Blood Ties Chapter 12
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, canonical character death, poorly written smut, mention of scars, allusions to child abuse
A/N: I feel like I say this about every chapter but I really struggled with this one. I even scrapped 3,800 words because I hated it so much. It still ended up being a long one but it feels like a lot of time skipping and nonsense. The beginning is nice though. ;) I hope it’s at least somewhat enjoyable. Thank you, my dears.💙
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gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams
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Your body was on fire; electric jolts sparking with pleasure each place where his skin was touching yours. It was never like this before. It was purely physical, without attachment. Now it felt like he had integrated himself into your very soul. You wanted him deeper than his cock dragging over your inner walls; you wanted him beneath your very skin. 
Each thrust was slow but deep, his back arching when he rolled his hips into you. His lips and hands felt like they were everywhere all at once. He wasn’t just fucking you. He was making love to you. Deliberate, delicate, yet no less exhilarating. 
Your hips raised of their own volition to meet his. You were desperate to snap that inner tension; the tightly coiled heat low in your belly. Daryl had other plans. He was drawing this out. He was savoring you. 
“Easy. I gotcha.” He purred against your ear just before his lips attached to the skin above where your pulse thrummed. “S’gonna feel real good. Hang on for me.” He ventured lower to draw a nipple into his mouth, the swirling of his tongue pulling a moan from you, your hands moving from his bare back to his hair and then returning. You urged him back to your mouth, whining against his smiling lips. 
“Please.” You weren’t sure what you were pleading for; there was so much sensation that you couldn’t even pinpoint where you needed him most. “Please, please, please.” He chuckled and made a slow journey with his fingertips, whispering down your torso to disappear between your bodies. A calloused thumb pressed against your clit and you nearly wailed. 
“That’s it. Let go for me.” His thrusts never wavered, leaving you to dimly wonder if this would be the first of many orgasms he would give you before he was chasing his own high. “Cum for me, Y/N.”
You could feel your cunt clamp around him and begin to pull him impossibly deeper, preparing for your orgasm to wash over you. You were right on the edge, teetering. His lips met yours and your hips angled upward, the knot ready to burst. Just as you felt the first wave of ecstasy—
You opened your eyes to the dim light of a small lamp on the bedside table. You still felt tired when somewhere in your mind, you could recall that something happened and you should feel better. In your sleepy haze, you couldn’t seem to summon the memories. Only the residual feel of Daryl’s body pressed against yours and the pleasure he was so eagerly offering you. 
“That must’ve been some dream.”
You lifted your head to find Carol sitting in a chair close to the bedside, a small smile on her face and her hands folded on her lap. 
“Carol.” Your lips curved upward ever so slightly. 
“So dehydrated but still able to drool so I’d say we’re making progress.” She chuckled while you dragged the back of your hand across your mouth with a curl of your lip. 
“The baby okay?” You scratched at your scalp, still trying to piece together what happened that ended with you in bed and hooked up to fluids. 
“Mhm. Hershel says the heartbeat is strong.” She smiled, the sadness behind her eyes more transparent than she probably realized. 
“What happened?” You inquired, slowly pushing yourself up to sit against the headboard without disturbing the IV tubing. Just as her mouth opened, the memories of your rescue mission came flooding back in a breathtaking onslaught. “Oh god, Daryl!” You grabbed the blanket and threw it back, aiming to get to your feet, only halting by a gentle touch to your ankle. 
“He’s in the next room. He’s gonna be fine.”
When the sudden rush evaporated, you sank back against the pillows. You had all three made it. 
“He was in shock by the time you made it back. Hershel gave him some IV fluids and is going to start some antibiotics. He’s all patched up. He’ll be back to his cheery self in no time.”
You chuckled. “Just a ball of sunshine, that one.” Your smile fell away, remembering just how horrible he had looked the last time you saw him; dragging his feet along behind you. Blood dampened his shirt, his pants. He was pale as milk, dark circles under his eyes. You held on to a fragile hope that he—if nothing else—looked better after stitches and fluids. “Is he awake?”
“He was stirring a little while ago.” You nodded, picking at your left thumbnail. “I’m gonna get you some water. Maybe we can take out that IV now that you’re awake.” The other woman stood gracefully, donning her usual smile except it wasn’t quite reaching her eyes. Your gaze followed her out the door, your heart aching for her. She was so intent on caring for you and your baby while her own child was still missing. It was a bleak reminder of how unfair life truly was. 
You inwardly sighed, your stomach beginning to feel ill at ease. How did you end up in this position? All of it. The dead rising to eat the living. Losing everyone you held dear. Making a baby with a complete stranger. And now so desperate to keep that man in your life that it frightened you. Just—how?
Everything had been so normal before. You had your routine with your father waiting at home for you everyday. You’d sit with him over a dinner that you prepared, listening to his lame jokes and laughing even harder when they weren’t funny. Your uncles and aunt would come over once every two weeks for a big supper. You’d usually save the larger kill for those occasions. 
God, you missed them. 
But they weren’t here now.
Daryl was. You’d be damned if you’d lose someone else. 
A soft knock on the door signaled Carol’s return. She had a tray of food. Eggs, apparently. The last time, when Daryl had brought them, you had been famished and paid no mind to the smell. It was different this time, and your stomach was not pleased. 
“The eggs.” You gagged, sitting up and covering your mouth and nose. Carol’s eyes widened and she swiftly put the tray outside the door and grabbed up the water glass before she shut the smell out. 
“I’m sorry.” She said quietly. “I brought the pills that Maggie and Glenn were able to get. They found a few bottles so you should be set for now.” She handed you the medication and the water. Your stomach churned angrily. “I’ll see about getting Beth to make you another smoothie.”
“Thank you.” It was made clear by the expression on her face that she was worried. “I’ll be okay.” The pill had a grainy texture and left a horrible taste. You washed it down with a sip of water, but the unpleasant assault on your tastebuds continued. It would be worth it if it meant everything would stop trying to crawl out of your throat. 
“I’ll get Hershel to see about that IV. Then maybe you’d like to go see Daryl?”
You gave her a nod and a tight-lipped smile, watching her leave to fetch the vet. Ugh. You knew he would lecture you, but you couldn’t let it sway your desire to protect your little family. That’s exactly what it was: a family. Your relationship with Daryl didn’t alter the fact that you would share a child. Co-parent. Protect one another.
A rapid knock on the door before it opened revealed the vet. “Carol tells me you’re feeling okay. Maybe we can remove your IV if you can ensure you’ll continue to take in as much water as you can.” 
“I can do that.”
He studied you for a moment, as if searching for a hint that you may not follow through. Apparently satisfied that you’d heed his instructions, he rounded the bed and began working on removing the catheter from your arm. The grim expression was sign enough that you were about to be scolded. “Y/N, you understand the risks involved when you go out there.” And so it began. “This, I can’t stop you from doing but you should consider the safety of your child if nothing else.”
“No one else was going to try and find him. It was something I had to do.” You lowered your head, feeling not unlike a child who was in trouble for drawing on the walls and knowing better. 
There was nothing left to say. He continued to stare for a moment after instructing you to bend your arm and hold pressure on the square of gauze he’d placed there. Perhaps, he was attempting to understand. Maybe he was judging your decision. Maybe he was even praying for you. It didn’t matter. In the end, he gave a curt nod and turned to leave the room. 
As soon as the door closed, you tossed the gauze onto the bedside table, carefully lowering your feet to the floor. The mattress acted as support while you ensured dizziness wouldn’t bombard you. Your vision stayed clear, even if your stomach was still protesting. Hopefully it would settle soon enough. 
You knew Daryl would likely be across the hall. There was an anxiety at the thought of seeing him; one you couldn’t validate. You knew you wanted to go, to see with your own eyes that he was alive and healing. You chose to ignore the feeling and opened the door, pausing on the threshold when you heard his voice. 
“I didn’t do anythin’ Rick or Shane wouldn’t done.”
“I know.” You could see Carol step into the doorway of the adjacent room. You stepped back behind the frame of your own, feeling like an intruder. “You’re every bit as good as them. Every bit.” The door closed, her soft steps moving further away, most likely in route to get your smoothie. 
You could absolutely throttle the redneck after hearing him downplay what he had been nearly killing himself to achieve. He had worked just as hard as anyone else in the search for Sophia. If he wouldn’t acknowledge the effort he’d put in, he was likely giving himself hell over being placed on the sidelines after his injury. There was no way Hershel was going to clear him to go back out there anytime soon. 
Your bare feet barely made a sound when you crossed the space between rooms, leaning into the door with one hand on the knob while the other quietly knocked. 
“Jesus, can’t a guy get some sleep ‘round here. What is it now?”
Scrunching your nose in response to his grumpy attitude, you opened the door and peered inside. He most likely wasn’t expecting you. His back was to you, the sheet up to the curve of his hips, giving you a glimpse of the deep, dark puckered lines of several scars. His skin was still pale. They likely didn’t appear so harsh against his normally tan complexion. Still…
“Hey, dumbass. How’re you feeling?” The way he flinched and clumsily gripped the thin cover to drag it up higher made your chest tighten. The reason he didn’t want to remove his shirt when you fucked; he didn’t want you see. 
“Callin’ me a dumbass when you was the one came runnin’ after me all half cocked.” He mumbled, not turning to look at you. Deflecting. You decided to let it go. He was so ashamed of that part of himself. He needed to keep that secret. It wasn’t yours to know. Maybe one day. 
“I could make so many jokes out of what you just said and most would be at your expense.”
“Y’can go now, funny girl.”
You crawled up onto the mattress and maneuvered your way over to where he lay, resting your chin on the curve of his shoulder while carefully avoiding adding any pressure against his wounded side. 
“Don’t be such a sourpuss. You know you’re glad to see me.”
Daryl scoffed, shrugging his shoulder to jostle your head. “Pain in my ass.” You peered at his outstretched right arm, the taped tubing leading up to a bag of clear fluids, half empty. At least his skin was feeling warmer. “Y’okay?”
“I’m sure they already told you that I’m fine.” You answered softly. You resisted the urge to brush your fingers over the bandage on his head. 
“Don’t matter. Better to hear it outta ya own mouth.”
You smiled. “I’m fine, Daryl. A little nauseous but Maggie and Glenn found the medicine.”
He grunted, a moment passing before he asked “baby okay?” His voice had lowered, muscles tensing beneath your chin, as if he were bracing himself for your answer. 
“Mhm. Hershel checked and said the heartbeat was strong.” He relaxed almost immediately. You were once again reminded of his desire to not be touched. You had seen him flinch away from Rick and Carol. After a rare glimpse at his bare back, the fear made sense. But he saw you differently. He had chosen to accept you as safe for whatever reason. It had to be more than your willingness to spread your legs for him once upon a time not that long ago. 
“That’s good.” He muttered. He sounded a little groggy. 
“He give you something for the pain?” You tilted your head on his arm, your cheek lightly pressing against the muscle there. 
“Mhm. Didn’t want it. Shoulda saved it.” 
“Take the meds, you stubborn ass.” You nearly shoved at him, albeit playfully. It still would have caused him discomfort. His movements were stiff, the muscles rippling under your face as his hand came up to present a clear message in the form of one finger. “You’re so mature, Dixon.” You teased. “I’m so honored to be the birth giver of your spawn.” There was instant regret when you felt him flinch, tense up, and then deflate. 
“M’sorry.” His voice was raspy. Tired. You didn’t hesitate to caress the white bandage over his temple this time. 
“Don’t be.” You soothed, watching him battle to stay awake. “I’m not.” You glanced at the sheet covering his back, shielding his shame from you. You could see the very top of what appeared to be the aftermath of a burn. Daryl had definitely had the opposite of your childhood. Where you had love and tenderness and support, it was suggested Daryl had pain and cruelty and isolation. Somehow, you knew that he would want better for his own child. 
“I ain’t gonna be—like our daddy. My kid—ain’t gonna be like us.”
You brought your hand up to trace shapes onto his forearm, smiling as goosebumps rose from the gentle caress. “Daryl?”
You thought he might already be asleep, but then he drew in a breath and answered with a drawn out “hmm?” 
“I really am honored.” 
He went so still that he appeared to hold his breath, before he made a dismissive noise and shrugged you off of him. “Tryin’a sleep, woman.”
“Okay.” You had hit a nerve. It wasn’t like you didn’t consider the possibility he’d react negatively. “I’ll be across the hall.” You gracelessly scooted across the mattress, just having thrown your legs over the edge when there was a grip on your wrist, firm but gentle. You looked over your shoulder to find him awkwardly balanced on his right elbow while keeping the arm as straight as possible for the IV. He wasn’t looking at you but it had to hurt for him to have twisted into how he was to reach for you. 
The breath he took shuddered. “Stay.” 
“Alright.” Your free hand came to rest on the one that held your wrist, intending to provide comfort for a request he was obviously uncomfortable to make, but he pulled back his arm and settled against the pillow. Withholding your sigh, you settled behind him on your side, facing him but not touching. 
It wasn’t difficult for sleep to find you in the dimly lit room with Daryl’s deep, even breathing acting as your gentle lullaby. 
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It was frightening how so many things could change so quickly. Hell, an entire world could end in a matter of days. 
You were up and about the day after you awoke with the IV in your arm. Hershel had instructed you to take it easy and, for once in your life, you had listened. You helped with cooking and hanging laundry. Anything that allowed you to sit often for water breaks and did not require you to lift. 
Daryl was also out of the house that following day. Not because Hershel had allowed it. But because he felt anxious, cooped up. He was stealthy, as per usual, and back in his tent with a book before anyone had noticed he was missing. To his credit, he did move slower and didn’t engage in anything strenuous. Well, for a few days anyway. 
Lori’s pregnancy had been a shocker to everyone. It was laughable to you how suddenly, you weren’t such a burden in the eyes of the second officer. It was also very revealing. You had suspected something all along, but watching him with Rick’s wife when he thought all heads were turned had just confirmed your suspicions. 
That same man was growing more and more volatile with each passing day. He was constantly challenging Rick, the sort of leader of your little group, and then going off on his own to do god knows what. Daryl had butted heads with him a few times over a variety of things. The most recent was just before Lori’s pregnancy was revealed. Shane made an off-handed comment—after you had once again stood your ground against him—about breeding with a redneck having an affect on your mentality. The archer had only conceded when you had stepped in front of him. 
Tensions only rose when Glenn had revealed that Hershel had been keeping walkers in the barn. The issue was debated and discussed repeatedly with no clear resolution. Shane had come stomping over to the porch where everyone was congregated, handing out guns and riling everyone up. He was determined to clear the barn. You stood with Lori, even as Daryl went in with Shane, guns blazing. The action was one that would change everything for everyone forever. 
When the lanky little girl stumbled out of the darkness beyond the barn doors, no one moved. No one made a sound. Except Carol. She had tried to run to Sophia, would have gladly allowed her daughter to rip into her throat at that moment if it meant she would get to hold her. Your fingers only brushed the woman’s arm as you attempted to stop her with a watery call of her name. Luckily, Daryl was successful. He held her until the last moment and even after the walker had fallen by Rick’s gun. 
The drama didn’t end there. 
A young man had been kept in the barn after Rick, Glenn, and Hershel had brought him back with an injury that required surgery. Randall ended up knowing of the Greene farm and thus, became a threat. Rather, the group that had left him was a threat, but—guilty by association and all that. Daryl had participated in the torture of the kid for information. That led to the collapse of already unsteady ground between the two of you. Dale had died still believing that the group was above taking a life. Randall was still in that barn, awaiting the decision on his fate. 
Daryl took the discovery of Sophia in the barn harder than anyone, the exception being Carol. He moved his tent away from the camp, hunted alone, and stayed away from everyone. 
Including you. 
The one time you had tried to talk with him, not even about the distance between you, he had reacted with anger. When you stomped away, you swore you wouldn’t go back. And you hadn’t. That had been more than two weeks ago. 
Inside the house, you were noticing even more changes but these were within your own body. It was as if, over night, your breasts had decided that your bra was just no longer suitable housing. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, you studied them. They didn’t look bigger. Squeezing them in your palms, you hissed at the tender ache the gentle action left behind. You’d just have to wear a flannel over your cami so your nipples didn’t alert everyone that the evening was getting chilly. 
Your special condition had been particularly nasty the past two days, requiring fluids once again, leaving you weak and exhausted. You grabbed your jeans from the armchair and stepped into them. There was the slightest bit of resistance getting them over your hips, earning a crease in your brow. It wasn’t until the button and zipper wouldn’t meet that you realized something really had changed. 
Pushing the denim back to your knees, you turned sideways in front of the mirror. Sure enough, there was the slightest curve to your lower belly. How hadn’t you noticed? With a defeated slump to your shoulders, you let your head roll over to where your sleep pants laid at the foot of the bed. Those and your oversized t-shirt had been enough to keep you ignorant to the changes your body was making to accommodate your baby. 
“Ugh, I’m not ready, Thumper.” You whined with a cool palm over the small bump. Grumbling to yourself as you kicked off the jeans and grabbed the plaid cotton pants, you slipped them on and just pulled the t-shirt back on over your camisole. Your flannel would be enough against the autumn chill and with your boots adding to your already questionable attire, you trudged out the door and down the stairs. 
Your first stop was the kitchen. Lori was there with Carl, handing him a plate that contained a sandwich and probably stale potato chips. She smiled at you as you entered, eyeing your outfit with a barely concealed smile. 
“Hey there. Making a fashion statement?”
Drinking down a glass of water to swallow your pill, you turned sideways and hauled up your shirt and cami before lowering your pants slightly. The other woman gave you a nod. 
“Ah, I see.” Lori began putting away food that was not used for lunch. “How far along are you?”
The question caught you off guard. You honestly hadn’t thought about it in a while. You had been more concerned with Glenn being able to find enough vitamins, with keeping down enough food and water, with Daryl being a jerk, and just with surviving. The farm had brought about several weeks of safety and you wished for your little calendar that you had kept in the beginning. 
“It’s okay if you don’t—”
“No, I got this.” You assured, beginning to count on your fingers. It was more difficult than you thought. The days seemed to blend, some more eventful than others, leaving you unable to recall the quiet days in between. “Maybe 17 weeks?”
Lori nodded. “Sounds about right. Everyone’s different but I’m finding myself more sick with this one than I ever was with Carl. When you have your second, it could be smooth sailing and you could have already popped,” she raised her hands in air quotes, “by the time you’re this far along.”
You tilted your head. “Popped?”
Lori chuckled and continued with her task. “Means that one day you just wake up to a very noticeable belly.”
You looked down at your stomach, still on display with your shirt tucked under your arms to keep it raised. You wouldn’t say that you have popped as Lori put it. It was hardly noticeable until you tried to fasten your jeans. However, it was there. You adjusted your clothes and pursed your lips with a hum. 
“Not sure there’ll ever be a second. I think one might be enough for the end of the world.”
You could see her expression shift, the smile and ease morphing into a questioning discomfort. Maybe it was time to table this conversation. 
“I think I’ll head outside for a while. Get some fresh air. Maybe see if someone will take me to get some different clothes. I definitely don’t want to run around in my pajamas when the weather turns.” The other woman nodded with a tight-lipped smile. “Let me know if you need help with anything.”
“I will, thanks.”
You dipped your head and ambled out the screen door. The sun’s glare, high in the sky, was a shock to your eyes after being tucked away inside. Your hand acted as a visor against your brow as you scanned the farm. Everyone was scurrying around in their day to day activities, a sort of normalcy settling since everyone had moved into the house.
Except Daryl, of course. 
You heaved a sigh at the thought of him out toward the edge of the farm alone. He could handle himself but the self isolation he was inflicting caused a heaviness in your heart that was beginning to fester. Carol had tried to bring him back and he had become irate. The things he had said to her were shared with you when the woman had finally let her tears fall against your shoulder. You wanted to throat punch him. 
Maybe you would. 
You saw Andrea perched on top of the RV with her rifle. You could almost picture Dale hovering behind her, as he often did. The vehicles had been moved closer to the house, providing much needed reassurance of a quick escape if it were deemed necessary. Chewing on your lip, you let your shoulders drop. It was time to bury that hatchet. 
The climb up the ladder wasn’t as difficult as you thought it’d be. You weren’t thrilled about the height with your sporadic bouts of dizziness but as long as you stayed near the middle, it’d be okay. 
Andrea glowered for a moment before turning back to keep watch over the fields. 
“Hey.” You greeted. She didn’t respond, her eyes looking you up and down before she turned around again. “I deserve that.”
“You deserve more than that. You pointed a gun at my head.” 
You had to close your eyes and take a deep breath. “You could have killed Daryl, Andrea.” You kept your tone level, holding up a hand when she spun around with no doubt a snarky retort on her tongue. “I didn’t come to argue with you. I came to apologize.”
“Yeah? Apology not accepted.”
Another deep breath. “That decision is yours to make. Nevertheless, I’m sorry. I was sick. I was exhausted. I wasn’t thinking clearly and you had just shot the man I lo—the father of my baby.” You blinked, stunned by what you’d almost said in the moment. The look that suddenly appeared on Andrea’s face conveyed she’d caught it too. You shook your head and continued, hoping both of you could just forget it. “None of those things are an excuse for what I did when it was truly a mistake. So, I’m sorry.” When you turned to climb down, you had nearly let yourself be suffocated by the weight of your near an admission. Was it an admission? Were you just emotional? Hormones? Insanity? The dream and then this?
“I won’t tell anyone.” 
You turned back, catching her eye and holding it. She could. She could spread it through the group and eventually it would make its way to Daryl and you were not ready to have that conversation. After a moment, you nodded in silent thanks. “Are we good?” Your voice was weaker than you intended. 
Andrea smiled, a surprising kindness in her gaze. “We’re good.”
You inexplicably wanted to cry, barely controlling the quiver of your chin. “Thanks.” Going down the ladder was a little more difficult in part to the blurred vision for which the tears were responsible. 
Once your feet were on the ground, you just started to walk, no destination in mind. When your heart screamed for Daryl, your rationality stomped it down. He was your friend. Alright, you’d been closer to him than anyone else in the group. It was never supposed to be something more. You didn’t want anything more. You didn’t want a baby with him. You didn’t want to feel trapped there. 
But you didn’t feel trapped, did you? The majority of that group was kind to you. They cared for you when you were ill, expecting nothing from you. Daryl, for all his tendency to an absolute asshat, had been tender with you at times. You were safe when you could have been alone, left to figure out the pregnancy and raise a baby on your own. No, you wouldn’t have made it on your own. The complications would have killed you. 
You let out a sob, walking faster and allowing the tears to flow without wiping them away. Your cheeks and neck were damp. Why were you even upset? Had the world finally broken you? You thought you’d last much longer than that, but you never could have predicted the events that had led you to where you were. 
And where you were was Daryl’s camp. 
The archer was perched on the ground, next to a dark patch of earth surrounded by rocks; a fire pit that was currently unutilized. He was scowling when he looked up at your approach, but his expression changed; a sudden conveyance of concern as he hauled himself to his feet. 
“S’wrong?” 
You didn’t know why you were there. The last thought of him before you spoke with Andrea was one of anger. Your body was crying out for a feeling of safety; for a shield from everything bad that could harm you or the little innocent life inside you. Somehow—for reasons you no longer had the energy to debunk—your feet took you straight to Daryl. 
“Y/N?” His gruff voice spoke into your hair after you walked directly into his space, your fisted hands tucked under your chin while your face pressed into the solid warmth of his chest. He didn’t move. You didn’t want him to, not really. It would only make everything more confusing. 
When he remained silent but his hand came to rest lightly against your back, you turned your hands and grabbed fistfuls of his vest. You pushed him away and hauled him right back, angry that he let you. You needed him to yell at you. You needed him to tell you that he didn’t care; that he’d only be around for you because of the baby. 
When you tried to shove him again, he stood firm, his other hand coming to cradle the back of your head. 
“Goddamnit, Daryl! Push me away! Shut me out!” You slapped a hand hard against his chest, fingers pulling at the leather again. 
“Why?”
You couldn’t answer him. You couldn’t answer because you didn’t know. You didn’t want him to send you away. And you were so scared of that revelation that you yearned to scream just to feel something other than scattered turmoil that was enveloping your heart in a deviant swaddle of barbed wire. 
Without a resolution to your emotional plight, you continued to cry until it drained everything out of you. Damn him, he just stood there with his arms around you; being the shield you so desperately needed. You wanted to hate him for it. 
You wanted to, but you couldn’t. 
Your sobs eventually dulled into sniffles and hiccups. After what felt like hours, your legs gave out, any strength you had when you left that bedroom was utterly spent. Daryl didn’t let you fall. You knew he wouldn’t. You weren’t tired enough to miss the way he held you up or the way he bent to sweep his arm under your knees. 
You didn’t look at him while he carried you; turned your back to him when he placed you on the cot inside his tent. The flinch when he draped the sleeping bag over you was unintentional. You hoped he’d leave. Maybe he’d go out to hunt, irritated that you invaded the space he’d built for himself. 
“Why’re ya here?”
Of course he didn’t. The universe hated you, that was abundantly clear now. “I—don’t know.”
“This cause’a hormones or whatever s’called?”
You snorted weakly, your hand working out from beneath the sleeping bag to wipe at your face. “What do you know about hormones, Daryl?”
“The book says—”
“Book?” You sat up on your forearm and twisted to look back at him. The archer looked annoyed, a decent flush spreading from his cheeks to the top of his ears. 
“Went into that town they go to for the meds an’ shit. Grabbed a, uh, book about baby stuff.” You blinked at him, earning a frown in return. “Don’t look at me like that. Yeah, I read, Y/N.”
You looked past his shoulder to where two books peeked from beneath some of his clothes. The one in question was closer, upside down and open beside the battery powered lamp. 
The Expectant Father: Facts, Tips, and Advice for Dads-to-be
The small upturn of one corner of your mouth had him shifting to shield the book from your sight. 
“How much have you read?” 
“‘Nough to know it ain’t much fun for ya some’a the time.” He wouldn’t look at you now, finding interest in a piece of grass that he’d tracked inside. You hummed, a stirring in your chest that directly correlated with the feelings that had guided you there in the first place. The difference now was that you felt oddly grounded, able to focus on a single thought or feeling. 
“Daryl?” He grunted without looking up. “Will you please move into the house?”
He sighed as though he’d been asked a thousand times. “Nah, too many people.”
“Then—can I stay out here with you?” It was your turn to find something to occupy your gaze. You settled on the sleeping bag zipper. 
“Ya need to be inside. Safer there.”
“I have a bedroom.” You weren’t sure how you felt about sharing a close space with the hunter, but you knew you needed him close. Tent or bedroom, you didn’t really care. “It’d just be me and you.” 
The subtle shift of his jaw indicated he was chewing the inside of his cheek. Maybe you could find him something like toothpicks or straws, anything to keep him from hurting himself when he was uncomfortable. 
“Why ya want me there? Ain’t like I’m miles away.”
“I feel safer with you.” Now it was you turning pink, your cheeks and neck flushing warm. 
Daryl snorted. “Ya got over half a dozen people in there.”
“They’re not you.” You countered before you could think of a better way to say it. “Look, you’re the first person I met from this group. You’ve never hurt me. I trust you to fight with me.” You ducked your head. “To fight for me. To protect me if I can’t protect myself. To protect our baby.” When you met his eyes, you realized he had never looked at you the way he was at that moment. He still had that unreadable expression that you sometimes wanted to slap off of his face, but his eyes. There was something in his eyes. 
“Lemme think ‘bout it.” He stated while rising to his feet. “Gotta meet ‘bout the kid later. Letcha know after.”
You didn’t want to drop the subject but at least he was going to consider it. Sitting up, you slumped on the cot, already feeling the need for a nap. Your energy levels had taken a major hit from your momentary lapse of sanity. Scratching at an itch on your belly, you were suddenly struck with the urge to share the progress note with Daryl. He was reading damn books on pregnancy. Surely he’d want to see. Right?
“Um, Daryl?”
“Yeah?” He’d stepped out to get his crossbow and bring it inside, continuing whatever he’d been doing. He still hadn’t asked you to leave. Maybe he was afraid you’d go batshit crazy a second time. 
“I thought you might—well, this morning—” You furrowed your brow, groaning at your inability to put it into words. Finally, you just stood and lifted your shirt, sliding your pants down to just above your pubic bone. “I, uh, can’t get into my jeans anymore thanks to Thumper.” 
Goddamn the man’s ability to maintain an expression of complete and utter stoicism. You suddenly felt self conscious, exposed. Maybe he couldn’t even see the difference. Fuck. 
“Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t—I think I should go.” You slipped your fingers beneath the waistband of the pants but that’s as far as you got before you felt Daryl’s fingertips on your knuckles. He didn’t say anything as he stepped closer, shining blue orbs zeroed in on your stomach. You tracked his movements, each step slow and deliberate until he was directly in front of you. Using the tip of his index finger, he drew a line from your sternum to just where your pants sat below the small curve of your belly. 
“Really in there, huh?” His voice was soft and raspy and you weren’t sure if he was talking to you at all. It seemed like a moment between father and child. His palm was warm when he placed it flat just below your navel. You watched his hand, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin. It tickled but you stifled the giggle that threatened. 
You opened your mouth to ask what the book said about how far along you were but when you lifted your gaze from your belly, he wasn’t looking at it at all. Deep blue pools were staring right back at you. 
You knew your breaths were coming faster and your heart was beating a tattoo against your ribs. “Daryl?” Did you imagine that or did he just glance at your lips? You brought your hand to his face, barely brushing his skin when he pulled away abruptly.
“Head on back to the house. Don’t think I’ll be movin’ in there. Better out here.” He grabbed up his weapon and turned his back to you. 
You were still standing frozen, belly exposed and hand just finally dropping to your side. “Daryl, I—”
“Go.” Daryl’s voice cracked on the word. 
You adjusted your clothing and stepped toward him. “Daryl—”
“GO!”
Eyes blown wide, you flinched back and stumbled from the tent. With energy you didn’t know you had, you ran and managed to make it to the house without falling though you stumbled on more than one occasion. You ignored the concerned calls of your name, nearly taking a tumble on the stairs, before finally disappearing into the bedroom and slamming the door. With your back against it, you tried and tried to catch your breath through the onslaught of tears. Your chest was tight, your stomach rolling. 
Trapped in your distress, you couldn’t hear the screen door slap against the wall, Daryl’s boots heading toward the stairs, or even Carol’s accusatory shout. 
“What did you do, Daryl?!”
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