#or at the side kinda let forward with just his head on the mattress

[gay-caesar-truther]

Hm I cant decide if I want Brutus to sleep be a fidgety sleeper (constantly shifting, moving, making little noises, etc) or a clingy sleeper (Cannot sleep well unless he's buried under blankets, and has something to cling to- be it a pillow, his dog, or person).

I know for a fact he's a light sleeper, and can sleep just about anywhere including the floor (though he won't sleep well on the floor, but can and will just curl up for nap if the situation requires) AND his ass snores

[kamitv]

Suguru walking in on you pleasing yourself would probably go something like…

“Well, shit. Didn’t know I had such a slut for a wife,” He’d comment mere seconds after walking in on you.

You’d be laying on your stomach, back arched, knees bent, legs spread, and a hand in between your legs as you fuck a rather lengthy dildo into your sloppy cunt. Your husband, who you weren’t expecting to be home so soon, seems anything but surprised to catch you like this.

If anything, Geto barely tilts his head as he approaches the bed and then cracks a smirk, “Look at this pussy… fuuck, she’s drippin’ all over the place. All because of some stupid toy?” As he makes his comments, he’s unbuckling his belt and tossing it to the side.

“Suguu… S’not ‘cause of the toy,” You huff out with a pout, shamelessly staring at your husband as you continue pleasing yourself. “I missed you.”

“Yeah? Y’Missed me baby?” He’d tease, not even bothering to take his shirt off as he can’t help but reach forward and swat your hand away from the toy stuffed inches inside your cunt. He’d purposefully drag the item out of you, listening to that filthy squelch before brining it to his mouth and licking your taste off. “Mmh. Couldn’t even wait f’me, huh? Were you missin’ me or my cock, princess?”

You let out a heavy sigh and wiggle your hips back a bit, begging for him to give you something-, anything, “Both Suguru.”

“Needy ass girl,” He’d scoff in response.

He’s actually rather kind when he catches you pleasing yourself. Which is how and why you ended up with his cock inside you not too long after he’s come home.

Geto doesn’t really like knowing you were getting off without him but at the same time, something about coming home to you whining his name as you imagined he was fucking you instead of some toy kinda turned him on. He wondered how often you did this kinda thing.

And so he decides to ask you while he’s stuffing your cunt full of his thick cock, “You fantasize about me often, baby?” He hushes out to you, staring so deep into your eyes that it makes you feel embarrassed all over. His tone is so soft and loving with you too that it just makes you shudder beneath him as if he’s not fucking you at such a merciless pace right mow.

All you can do is nod as your jaw hangs open, “Uhuh… mmgh, I-, hah, think about you a-ah, all the t-time, Sugu.” Your words come out in between moans but that only fuels his arousal.

The way his lips curve into that knowing little smirk has your nails scraping against his back before he lets out a low hiss. “Fuck. You imagine my cock’s inside you when m’not even here?” Geto asks rhetorically before shifting his hips and hitting that one mushy spot inside you, “You replay our moments together, huh? Maybe we should record it one time so you have somethin’ better to get off to.”

Your legs squeeze around his waist and he notices your back arching up off of the bed. Geto thrusts in harder and faster, eager to watch your face twist up the same way it was moments ago before he’d caught you— he’d never let you feel that euphoric sensation more with some toy instead of his cock. Not that he’s jealous, of course…

“S-Sugu,” You choke out with how rough his hips grow against yours.

His head tips down into the crook of your neck and you can feel his fat cockhead knocking deeper and deeper into your sopping walls as his strokes become more calculated-, passionate almost. “Mhm, I know baby, I know,” He coos against your skin, his breath hot and tone almost hoarse, “M’right here,” God, his gentleness was a complete contrast to those mean hips of his.

Even the way his hands traced along your arms in search of your hand to grab had you so utterly weak.

“Y’missed this right?” Geto whispers hotly as he shifts his lips up to the crown of your ear, “Missed how I treat this pussy, huh?”

Your neck arches as you toss your head back and you feel his fingers squeeze onto one of your hands whilst he presses it down into the mattress. Moaning quiet little babbles in agreement to his soft-spoken yet lewd words, your cunt gushes around his aching cock, almost invitingly encouraging him to continue talking like that.

And who is he to ignore such encouragement? Pressing against your ear again, he starts fucking you a little slower but noticeably harder, “Agh… Missed you too, pretty girl. Hah, missed how she,” He emphasizes that word with a heavier thrust, “Takes me so fuckin’ well-, shit.”

Then he moans into your ear and you think you cum at the sound alone. So clear and provocative, echoing in your ear and making your mind go blissfully blank. “Ha-ah… ngh, Suguru, I… mmh..” You moan as his cock splits you open so deliciously.

Hell, that’s all you could do. Geto weighs his body down against you, pinning you to the mattress completely as he drags his cock almost all the way out of your twitching pussy just to give you a seconds rest. Not that it really helped as he slipped his dick right back into you, his jaw dropping and a filthy moan leaving his wet lips at the way your cunt feels so utterly soaked and warm wrapped around his cock.

Geto swears he could fuck you like this for hours and hours and hours but he’s too eager to see other things.

“Gonna have t’show me how you fuck yourself one of these days, love.” He huffs out breathlessly between thrusts.

You quickly start shaking your head at that—lost between reaching your high and processing his words, “N-No…”

“No? Oh c’mon,” He puts on this pout to mock you, “You don’t wanna show me? We��re married… I’ve shown you how I touch myself when you’re not around, why can’t you do the same, hm?”

“S’embarrassing…” You mumble with your lower lip poking out so deliciously that it makes your husband smirk.

“Aw, it’s embarrassing?” He teases, “Baby, I like it when you’re embarrassed. Plus, you looked so fuckin’ cute tryin’ to fuck yourself without me. Could’ barely take that piece of plastic ‘nd it’s smaller than my cock.”

“Sugu-“

“M’just sayin’…” He shrugs, “I want you to put on a lil’ show f’me. You can do that can’t you?” You’re shaking your head all over again and he frowns, “No? But baby,” His body presses down against you as if to emphasize his words and you could feel his tip pressing into your sweet spot, “C’mon, don’t make me beg for it.”

“I-I…” You’re left stuttering and moaning as your eyes travel to the back of your skull, “Ah, Suguru-, mgh…”

“Or would you rather me demand it, huh? Should I tell you you’re gonna show me what you were doin’ with that toy before I got here?” Geto pants into your ear, his lips brushing against your warm skin as you nod frantically in response. “Yeahhh? Alright then, gimme one more ‘nd then you’ll put on a lil’ show for me, ‘kay?”

[starcrossedmusings]

Pretty Hands

Pairing: best friend!Yunho x f!reader WC: 3.2k Warnings: eventual smut, reader has a thing for Yunho's hands (who doesn't??), swearing, fingering, choking, a little bit of degradation (he compares her to a whore literally once), PRAISE so much praise, Yunho talks reader through it (you're welcome), pov is kinda all over the place just let it be, Yunho is absolutely WHIPPED for reader teehee, probably some other things that I missed (let me know)

Summary: You and Yunho have been friends for years, and you tell each other everything. He suddenly takes a much more vested interest in your love life when you can't stop mentioning your newest interest.

A/N: This is entirely self indulgent and also I just wanted to get something full posted. The Phantom fic is turning out to be much longer than I originally anticipated (and so did this one once I started writing it). Let me know what you think♡

Stepping into Yunho's apartment had always felt like coming home, and today was no exception. You take your shoes off in the tiled entryway and pad your way through the main living area, calling out to him as you walk.

"Yun? I'm here!"

His muffled response flows down from the end of the hall, "Bedroom!"

You make your way through the back hallway and enter his room, finding him exactly where you thought he would be, focused in on his computer. There's a selection of empty drink cans and snack wrappers scattered around his desk, which tells you that whatever he's currently building on Minecraft has probably occupied the majority of his day so far. He pauses the game and turns his chair to face you.

"Whats up?"

"Got bored at home and my roommate isn't even trying to muffle her pornstar moans for her new boy toy."

Yunho barks out a laugh, "Does she seriously sound--"

"Just like it Yun I can't make this shit up. I'm starting to think maybe they're recording themselves in there."

Yunho wiggles his eyebrows as he stretches his arms up and over his head, leaning back in his chair. "Well, if I ever see your living room on Pornhub I'll be sure to let you know"

You crinkle your nose. "Ew. I do NOT need to know that."

"Whatever, don't act like you haven't been talking to me for weeks about how horny you are. If I have to hear about your vibrator dying one more time I'm gonna buy you a new one myself."

"You try getting unintentionally edged three nights in a row with a full charge, it's some bullshit Yun. Besides, I'm allowed to complain about my dry spell."

Yunho scoffs, tone playful and lighthearted. "Dry spell? It's been what? Two months?"

"It's been three thank you very much." You move to sit on his bed.

"Well some of us haven't had sex in much longer."

"Oh, please, that girl that San was messing around with was all over you at his birthday party last month, don't tell me you didn't take that opportunity."

Yunho raises his eyebrows in shock, leaning forward in his chair. "Wait, really?"

"Oh my GOD Yun you are so oblivious. Yes really. She was all giggly and twirling her hair and shit. That's like...girl flirting basics."

"I am not oblivious, I am actually quite observant. I could tell you things about yourself you don't even know. I just have my sights set on someone and that someone is not her."

You shoot him an incredulous look and snort out a laugh, leaning back to lay down completely on his bed, legs dangling off the edge. "Sure Yun, whatever makes you feel better."

You hear Yunho stand from his chair and feel his weight shift onto the mattress. He appears in your vision, a challenging playful sparkle in his eyes as he peers down at you. "Okay, fine. I can tell that you're trying out a new perfume, you just went shopping because your leggings are a different brand than you usually wear, and I know that you washed your hair last night because you're wearing it all the way down today."

You do your best to ignore the way your stomach summersaults at his attention to detail about you and your routines. You roll onto your side and prop your head up on your elbow, matching his challenging gaze. "Okay Sherlock Holmes. What kind of underwear am I wearing then?"

Yunho pauses to consider before responding "a thong, probably black." You grin triumphantly and lean in just a bit closer.

"Wrong. I'm not wearing any. You lose!" You stick your tongue out playfully at him and he swats your shoulder, falling back onto his mattress.

"You set me up!"

"Face it Yun, I'm just better than you."

"Yeah yeah, whatever" Yunho pouts, voice hightening slightly from surprise. He can feel a slight redness creeping up his ears and prays his hair has grown long enough to cover it. 'I'm not wearing any.' He clears his throat. "So why go commando? You finally planning to seduce your new conquest?"

"He is not a new conquest, he doesn't even know I like him."

"He will once he knows you aren't wearing any underwear for him" Yunho jokes, smiling cheekily. You smack at his chest.

"I didn't want to do laundry last night, asshole. Get your mind out of the gutter!"

"You're one to talk" he mutters under his breath.

You sit up fully and reach for one of the pillows at the top of his bed, slamming it down on his face. "Jeong Yunho I swear to god!" On your second swing, he manages to catch the pillow with one hand and pry it from your grasp, but not before giving you an entirely unhelpful image of his long fingers gripping the plush material.

"What?? All I ever hear you talk about lately is how tall and handsome this dude is and how much his hands make you drool."

"You sound jealous."

"I'm not jealous, I'm pissed that I have to hear all about him and don't even get to know what the dude's name is."

"I told you, I'm gatekeeping this time. You run your mouth too much."

"I do not!"

"Do too."

"Ugh FINE whatever," Yunho chucks the pillow back towards you and you dodge it, leaving both pillows on one side of the headboard, "You're so agitating."

"You know you love me Yun. But just for the attitude," You adjust both pillows and shuffle your way back until you're leaned against both of them, "no pillow for you for tonights doomscrolling session."

He huffs a laugh and scoots up to meet you, pulling out his phone and settling in against the headboard.

An hour later you get up to go to the bathroom, and when you get back Yunho has stolen both of his pillows. You frown and cross your arms. "Hey, asshole, those were mine!"

"Yeah?" He taunts playfully, "Well they were mine to begin with, and my back is killing me. So deal." You roll your eyes and cross back over to the bed, crawling over the side you've been sitting on and curling yourself into Yunho's side to rest your head against his chest. You feel him tense slightly underneath you before he moves one of his arms around your shoulders to let you lay more comfortably.

"There's no way in hell I'm sitting up against that cold ass metal frame you call a headboard." You mutter as you begin scrolling. Yunho's chuckle rumbles through his chest and tickles your cheek. You both sit in silence for a while, content to scroll on your phones. Eventually, you turn to look up at him from his chest.

"I meant to ask how your new project has been going. Whatever you were building when I came in looked pretty intense." You can see the faint tinge of red trail up his ears and neck--a telltale sign that whatever you caught him building makes him embarrassed. You sit up, propping your weight on your elbow and placing a hand on his chest to shove him slightly. "Ooooo now you have to tell me what it is!"

"It's embarrassing..."

"Tell me tell me tell me tell me--"

"Okay fine, fuck. I'll tell you if you promise not to laugh--"

"I won't I swear!"

"Pinky promise?" He holds his pinky out to you, and you raise a hand from his chest. Before you can lace your pinky in his, he pulls his hand up above his head. "I'm serious, Y/N, if you laugh I'll have no choice but to tickle you to death."

He's definitely not stalling because he has to come up with a reply, because he certainly hasn't been building a treehouse for you in what he hopes will one day be a shared server. Yunho thinks to himself that he would rather die than let you find out.

You scoff, "I won't laugh...and even if I did I'm not ticklish so your threat is a moot point."

Yunho drops his hand down onto the mattress. "Bullshit."

"It's not. I don't have a ticklish bone in my body."

"Liar."

You shake your head, and Yunho takes the opportunity to gently press the pads of his fingers into the sides of your ribs. The sensation hits you almost immediately, and you feel the tight feeling in your chest as he begins tickling you. You squeal and thrash around in his grasp, trying desperately to get away from his assault.

"Yun stop it--"

"Not until you admit you're a liar!" You begin to giggle and manage to roll away from him, but Yunho is quick to follow. He swings a long leg over your hips and pins you beneath him, a single large hand trapping both of your wrists above your head while the other dances across your ribs. "Admit it," He sings out.

"Okay! Okay fine I'm a liar!" You gasp out between laughter. Yunho beams down at you and immediately stops tickling your sides, leaving you panting underneath him--

Oh fuck...you're panting underneath him.

He can almost feel the shift in the air as he stares down at you. He knows he should move, just roll off of you and make up some bullshit lie about what he was building. You like someone else, and he clearly wasn't getting out of the friend zone any time soon. He's just making a fool of himself...and yet he just can't bring himself to stop memorizing the way you look splayed out beneath his hips. Eventually he forces himself to stop staring at the way your chest rises and falls or the sliver of your tummy that's poking out from underneath your shirt that's riding up. He locks eyes with you.

Your voice comes out softer than he's ever heard you speak before. "Hey Yun?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that mystery guy I've been telling you about? The one with the pretty hands?"

A twinge of annoyance flairs in his stomach and he can't help but grumble out his reply. "Yeah?"

"I'll give you a hint. He's got me pinned to the mattress right now."

Yunho feels his heart drop deep into the pit of his stomach.

"Like...like right now he does?"

You laugh lightly. "Yeah, right now, Yun."

Yunho swallows thickly as his head starts spinning. He leans down much slower than he would have liked to, giving you plenty of time to take it back--to laugh at him and tell him you got him good. He feels like his whole body lights ablaze when you close the final gap between your lips, and suddenly he is kissing you.

In almost any circumstance that you had seen Yunho kissing someone, he was always fast-paced--hot and heavy petting in the corner of a darkened bar, dares in drunken party circles--which is why you were floored at the reverence he was kissing you with now. His mouth was steady and intense against yours, his hands roaming slowly across the expanse of your torso like he was memorizing the feel of something priceless. You gently pull your hands from his grasp and tangle them in his hair, pulling him closer and matching his intensity with your fervor. You feel his hands make their way to the lower hem of your shirt, and your skin erupts in goosebumps as you feel his fingers ghost along the sliver of skin there. He breaks the kiss and you feel his breath fan across your face as he pants. His hands gently make their way to rest just under your shirt, not quite pushing the fabric up. He locks eyes with you.

"Is this okay?"

You chuckle gently. "Yes, Yun, you can touch me. I want you to touch me." You watch his eyes darken and his hands start running up your torso, pulling your shirt up with them.

"Where do you want me to touch you, baby?"

You exhale heavily and arch your back into his touch. "Anywhere...everywhere...I don't care."

Yunho smirks and feels his ego inflate. "You don't care? Hmm..." He starts planting kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck. Slow. Teasing. "If I remember correctly, you seemed pretty keen about having my hands in some specific places baby. Can you refresh my memory?"

The low whine that escapes your throat nearly sends him spiraling. "You know where...don't make me say it."

He does know, but there's nothing he wants to hear more right now than to hear you say it. He brings one hand up to your chest, cupping one of your boobs and squeezing gently as he continues peppering your neck with kisses. "Was it here? Or..." His hand trails back down and grips your hip possessively, "Here, maybe?" He hears you huff and feels your hand wrap around his wrist. You try to tug it up, and he chuckles softly but allows you to move his hand. He nips your earlobe and asks lowly, "Where do you need my hands baby?" He feels his cock twitch in his sweats when you wrap his fingers around your throat, guiding him to squeeze the sides gently. Your hands run down his chest and drop to your sides as he squeezes a little harder. "Fuck, look at you. So pretty with my hand around your neck."

You whine and buck your hips up, desperately looking for friction. Yunho coos as he looks down at you, wanting to have the image burned into his memory. He adjusts his position so he's sat on one side of you and brings his free hand to your thighs, squeezing the flesh there and watching the way you spread your legs for him. "Pretty girl, I need you to use your words. Spreading your legs like a whore isn't gonna get you what you want." He revels in the way you throw your head back onto the mattress and close your eyes, frustration evident already on your face.

"Need your fingers, Yun. Please."

Holy shit, he could combust right then and there. He smiles and traces his hands along the inside of your clothed thighs. "Good girl. So polite for me." He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings and pulls them down and off, leaving you bare from the waist down. "Sit up for me baby. I want you between my legs."

Yunho sits on the edge of the mattress and allows you time to sit up, moving to sit in between his thighs. He hooks your legs over his, leaving you spread and completely at his mercy. A shiver runs down your spine as the pads of his fingers run across your thighs and you gasp as they brush against your core. He presses kisses into your neck and chuckles, "You're already soaking wet, what's got you all bothered hmm? I've barely touched you..." Yunho hums and teases your entrance with this middle finger. He can feel you clenching. "Do you like my hands that much baby? All it takes is a little choking and you're putty for me." He pushes two fingers inside, pumping slowly and curling back to find your sweet spot. He feels pride flare through his chest at the noise you make, a mix between a whine and a moan that eggs him on.

Your toes curl as Yunho almost immediately finds your g-spot. The pace he sets is almost perfect, and when he begins rubbing tight circles on your clit your eyes roll back into your head. The pleasure is a building wave, and it's all you can do to keep yourself remotely still as he continues pumping his thick fingers in and out. "Oh my god, Yun, please don't stop!" You clench helplessly around his fingers and let your head roll back to rest on his shoulder.

"Awe baby I'm not gonna stop. Not until I see how pretty you look cumming all over me. Will you do that for me, sweetheart?" he coos, bringing his other hand back up to your throat and squeezing lightly. "Will you cum all over my fingers? I bet you want to right? Wanna come on my fingers while I squeeze this pretty neck of yours?"

You whine and preen at his words and arch your back. Your legs begin to shake as Yunho's circling on your clit quickens pace just slightly, the thrusts of his fingers audible from the squelching between your thighs. Your breath quickens.

"My pretty girl, you're such a mess for me, aren't you? Can you hear how wet you are? All soaked for me? I bet your hands don't feel as good as mine hmm?"

You shake your head no violently, whining as he continues to talk lowly into your ear. Your orgasm builds quickly, and at this point you have no faith in your ability to speak coherently.

"No, they don't do they? I want you to show me how good my hands feel baby. Let go for me, sweetheart."

Your breath catches in your throat as you tip over the edge, and the feeling of your release washes over you. Your whole body jolts in his grasp as he continues pumping his fingers. You feel him squeeze your throat gently, just enough pressure to remind you that he's got you.

"Atta girl, look at you! Doing so good for me." You whine and buck your hips, orgasm still riding through your body. Yunho nips at your neck lightly and slows his pumping to a stop as you continue to shake. "That's it baby, just grind on them for me." The final aftershock of your orgasm finishes, and you go limp in his arms, leaning all of your weight back into his chest and breathing heavily.

Yunho pulls his fingers out and admires the mess you made on them before popping them into his mouth. He's still rock hard, and the taste of you on his fingers makes him twitch again. He'll definitely need your help with that later. He uses the hand around your neck to brush a stray hair from out of your face. "How are you feeling?"

You huff out a breathless laugh and turn your face to nuzzle into his neck. "How do you think I feel? That was...wow."

He can't help the goofy smile that crosses his face. "Oh really? Tell me more, I'd like a full report." He jokes, pulling the two of you down to snuggle on his bed. He grabs a throw blanket from your side and pulls it over the two of you and nearly melts when you curl closer to him, burying your face into his chest.

"Give me a few minutes to recover and I'll show you exactly how I'm feeling right now." Yunho rubs a hand up and down your back.

"I look forward to that."

"And then afterwards you're going to show me what you've been building."

Yunho chuckles and kisses the top of your head. No way in hell.

[xosannie]

ateez’s reaction when you accidentally mark/scratch them bcs it feels so good and you just cant help it

☆a/n: sorry if this took so long I wanted it to be good🤞🏻also look at me posting fics back to back🤭

☆Genre: smut 18+ MDNI

☆Pairing: ot8xfem!reader

————————————————————

Hongjoong

He might not comment on it, but the feeling of pain definitely encourages him to keep going. Dare I say it turns him on.

~

It’s no surprise that Hongjoong likes to tease you. Giving you light touches and avoiding the area you need him the most, and if he does touch you where you crave him it’s at an agonizingly slow pace. So when finally, he has you pressed against the bed holding your legs open as he thrusted into you, you can’t help but gab onto whatever body part of his you can reach. In this case you hold onto his bicep, laying limp on the mattress as you let out whiny moans. It all just felt so good, finally having his cock slamming into you that you couldn’t help but drag your nails down his skin.

“Fuck,” he grunts.

You can feel his dick twitch in you and his hips drill into you at a faster pace (you didn’t know that was possible). In return he would lean down to dig his teeth in your neck, if you mark him he gets to mark you. You yelp at the feeling, clenching around his dick as you feel your orgasm creep up.

”You’re mine, remember that.”

If you had a dick you’d be so bricked up right now cause wtf he’s so hot for that.

Seonghwa

He doesn’t give it much thought when you scratch him, but once you start biting him… it’s game over

~

Seonghwa likes to hold you close while he fucked you, he loved the feeling of your skin rubbing against his as you moaned in his ear. In this particular situation you were trying to quiet down your moans while Seonghwa fucked you deep and slow. It was the middle of the night in your hotel room, you definitely didn’t want the other members sleeping next door to hear how good you were being fucked by their hyung. You held on to Seonghwa as your thighs trembled around him. You weren’t thinking when you suddenly dug your teeth in the crook of his neck to silent your moans. Seonghwa let out a choked moan and hips stilled as he pulled away slightly.

“Wait wait… don’t do that,” he whispered.

You looked up at him worryingly, afraid that you crossed a boundary you weren’t aware of.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“I almost came,” he breathed out.

Holy fuck- YOU almost came after hearing that.

Yunho

He’s sort of in the middle ground, it doesn’t affect his deeply but he doesn’t hate it either. He does encourage it though, especially when he sees you resort to biting yourself.

~

You were always too scared to accidentally hurt Yunho during sex, you would just feel to bad. But you had this habit to want to bite on something when you felt too good. So when Yunho kneeled behind you while he fucked into you, you couldn’t help it when you raised your own hand up to bite down on it. Yunho noticed and he tsked at you, leaning forward so his chest pressed against your back. The new angle made you moan louder, this way Yunho was fucking even deeper in you. He reached forward to gently remove your hand from your mouth.

“No baby don’t bite yourself, here.”

He covered your mouth with his large palm, you were so fucked out that your brain didn’t fully process it when you bit down onto Yunho’s flesh. He grunted, kissing the side of your head.

“There you go, if you need to bite I’m right here okay?”

Afterwards, when you both finished and Yunho cleaned you up, you noticed the bite mark on his palm. You gasp, holding his hand gently to inspect the bite.

“I’m sorry baby, does it hurt?”

“No, it’s okay sweetheart,” Yunho chuckles.

You already felt a pang of guilt and Yunho noticed, cupping your face to reassure you.

“Heys it’s really okay baby, it honestly doesn’t hurt.”

“Are you sure?” “Yes I’m sure,” he kissed you softly. “Besides, it’s kinda cute when you feel so good you resort to biting.”

“If you call me cute I’ll get horny again.”

Yeosang

He doesn’t necessarily like the sting of the pain, but he wouldn’t want you to stop. He knows that if you’re marking him it means he’s doing a good job, and that turns him on.

~

Yeosang loved to pleasure you, one of his favorite ways was to have you sitting in his lap, back pressed against his chest as his fingers moved in and out of your hole. He loved to hold you, pressing soft kisses on your neck and cheek while you moaned at the feeling of his fingers fucking you. You threw your head back, resting it against his shoulder. You never purposefully hurt Yeosang, you weren’t thinking when you dug your nails in the skin of his forearm. He tries to hold back a whimper, pressing his lips together to keep the noise in.

“That feel good baby?” He asks in his deep yet soothing voice.

You nod eagerly, unable to form words from how good Yeosang fingers felt inside you.

“Yeah? I can tell. Mmm I love pleasing you.”

Of course after everything you apologize repeatedly while kissing the marks you left. He would just laugh and assure you that it’s okay.

“Don’t worry about it baby, you did it cause you felt so good. It means… I did good,” he says the last part shyly.

You pause at his words, heart exploding at how cute he looked.

“Im sucking your dick.”

San

He definitely doesn’t mind if you scratch or bite him, but his favorite if when you mark his body with pretty hickies. He loves the feeling of your tongue on him, lips sucking at his skin. It’s just so arousing and intimate.

~

You were just so horny, you haven’t seen San in days due to how busy he was. So when you both were finally alone, your grew too desperate when your soft kisses turned into a heated make out session. You both already tore each others clothes off before he pulled you closer to straddle his lap. You subconsciously rocked your hips against him, causing him to groan when he felt the way your wet pussy dragged against his bare thigh. He gripped your hips, guiding them back and forth making you to moan against his lips. You didn’t know if it’s because of how needy you were or if you’re just a sensitive slut, but the way your clit rubbed against the taut muscle made your head reel.

“I missed you so much baby, come on mark me up, let everyone know that I belong to you.”

You let out a small whimper, hiding your face in his neck to suck at his warm skin. You heard him groan at he feeling of your tongue, hands gripping tighter when he felt you nibble him just a bit.

“Yes there you go, good girl.”

”Call me a good girl again and I’m cumming on your thigh.” San laughs, placing a kiss on the side of your head.

Mingi

Honestly he doesn’t pay any mind to it since he’s too lost in the feeling of your warmth around his cock. Although, when he’s eating you out, that’s a different story.

~

You legs trembled around Mingi’s head as you entangled your fingers in his hair. The way he licked at your gushing hole while his long nose rubbed against your clit made your back arch. Your legs closed around his head but Mingi didn’t mind, he loved with when you trapped him against your pussy. You felt yourself getting closer to release, eyes rolling in the back of you head as you dug your nails in his scalp. Mingi whimpered against your core at the feeling, closing his eyes shut as you came all over his tongue. After your high was over, you realized how much you were hurting him so you massaged his scalp worryingly.

“Sorry Mingi, did that hurt? It just felt so good I couldn’t help it.”

“No don’t apologize,” he breathed out, pulling himself up to smash his lips on yours. You felt his throbbing cock press against your thigh.

“That was so hot, I want to fuck you but If I do I won’t last very long.”

Aaaand, you’re horny again :/

Wooyoung

Oh this man would looove it. He’s a pain slut just as much as you are. He loves the sting it feels good to him and he especially loves seeing the marks you left the next day. ~

You grasped tightly onto Wooyoung’s shoulder while you bounced on his length. He gripped your hips tightly, stilling your movement to drill up into your hole. You fell forward, hiding your face in Wooyoung’s neck as he grunted loudly. The feeling was so overwhelming you needed to ground yourself. You couldn’t help it when your nails scratched across his upper back leaving red trails on his tan skin. He moaned in your ear, hips stuttering for a moment.

“Do that again,” he commanded. You couldn’t comprehend what he said, getting lost at the feeling of Wooyoung fucking you just right. He slapped your ass making you yelp.

“I said scratch me again!” This time you did as you were told, scratching him without hesitation. The noises that came out of Wooyoung made you cum on his cock.

Like literally, you came so hard.

Jongho

He wouldn’t say much about it in the moment… but boy does it do something to him. He just doesn’t like to show it.

~

Jongho held your legs up while he thrusted inside you. You couldn’t stop squirming from how Jongho’s thick cock was hitting the perfect spot. You reached down, gripping his thighs and digging your nails in his skin just to drag it down scratching him. He would wince quietly but the sound would be drowned out but your loud moans. It wasn’t until hours later, when your both snuggled up on the couch after a shower that he speaks up.

“I really liked when you scratched me earlier.”

You turn your head to him, a little shocked by his confession. His gaze didn’t even meet yours, still fixated on the TV screen

“Really? I felt a little bad when I saw the mark I gave you when we were showering.”

“No don’t feel bad, keep doing it from now on.”

He pulled you in closer and you smiled at his attempt to sound nonchalant.

“Whatever you say bear,” you kissed his cheek and he fought back a smile.

Why was he so cute? :(

[shotmrmiller]

Uninvited, Unexpected.

a/n: it's nice until the very end. it hints at baby trapping. one solid sentence that's kinda degrading (i couldn't help myself ok) this was in the works for so long, i did so much research just to use words. english is hard. and ignore the plot holes, for my sake. my sanity.

this is SMUT. 18+mdni please (if im missing anything else, lmk)

ty to my wonderful beta readers @waves-against-a-cliff & @xoxunhinged

wc: 3,1K

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!reader

my contribution to the @glitterypirateduck ghost challenge. idc if i wrote it much earlier lol.

You're awoken by a loud noise. At first, you think you dreamt it. Exploding head syndrome, maybe. You strain your hearing but it's quiet, save for the occasional creak of the house settling, its old bones creaking in the dead of night. Rain gently patters against the windows, blurring the world outside.

A flash of sudden light illuminates the bedroom, casting elongated shadows across the floor, followed by a loud crack that rattles the glass. Thunder. You should've guessed.

The frantic beating of your heart slows to a gentle roll, and your eyes leaden with sleep. The soft pillows beckon, the warm blankets cradle you as you sink back onto the mattress.

Only for you to be snapped back into reality, drowsiness dissipating like a morning mist.

Someone's knocking on your door.

Your heart is in your throat as you quickly peel off the blankets, the chill of the floorboards underneath your bare feet seeping into your bones.

In the bookshelf sits the gun Simon had given you before he had moved out, the rumble of his voice a ghost in your ear. "For protection," he'd murmured, placing the cold metal onto your open palms. "Jus' in case."

Your trembling fingers fumble as you search for it in the dark, flinching as a couple of books spill from the shelf onto the floor, pages rustling in your urgency.

The knocking persists.

The metal of the grip is unyielding in your clammy hands. You've never tested it before, never had the displeasure. As you hold it close to your chest with a quivering breath, you hope tonight won't change that.

Simon's instructions echo in your mind as you approach the front door. "Thumb the safety. Hold the grip with both hands. Do not, under any circumstance, put your finger on the trigger unless you're plannin' on sendin' hate. Clear?"

Your throat tightens, a phantom snake coiling around the narrow passage, and panic grips your heart as you reach for the blinds, slowly hooking two fingers and carefully pulling down to look at who is—

Simon.

Simon?

Sweat-slick fingers flip the light switch before quickly undoing the locks, the hinges groaning in protest as the door opens.

"What the hell?"

It's Simon, disheveled— maskless— swaying on his feet. His eyes are half-closed and unfocused. Johnny's holding him up by the arm, struggling to keep him upright.

"S'ry, bonnie. We wen' out fer a few 'nd clearly, he's out 'is face. Quite crabbit, too. He said ye'd let 'em sleep 'ere," he slurs.

Simon's not the only one who's pissed. With a resigned sigh, you gesture at the couch with your free hand. "There, I guess."

That he thought of you even in his drunken haze tugs at your fragile heartstrings.

Johnny guides him to the catch, a quiet C'mon LT to spur him forward. Heavy boots thud against the floor as they stumble toward the living room while you carefully place the gun on the kitchen countertop before reaching for a water bottle in the pantry. Johnny snickers under his breath as Simon collapses onto the sofa, the springs protesting his weight.

Two bottles, then.

You watch Simon's head loll as you hand Johnny the water. "Tell me you aren't the one driving, Johnny," you grumble.

He takes it with a quiet thanks. "Naw. Cap'n's stone cold sober."

Small mercies.

Johnny gives Simon a rough slap to the side of his leg as he bids him goodbye, pulling you in for an embrace tight enough that your spine pops before walking out the door.

You let out another sigh as the lock clicked back into place. The tangy, sour scent of stale alcohol mixed with stings at your nose, as does the invasive smell of smoke.

His boots are mud-caked, and you'll be damned if he stains your nice furniture with his mess. "Shoes off." He groans but complies. The laces come undone quickly, and you tug his shoes off with a grunt. "Simon."

His glassy eyes meet yours. "Drink your water." The burning need to chuck it at his head is one you have to vehemently smother into embers. Moron. Only Simon would have the gall to show up unannounced months after the separation. And drunk.

You push the bottle into his chest roughly and make to go back to bed when he encircles his hand around your wrist and the world spins on its axis, suddenly finding yourself beneath him with his face nestled in the crook of your neck.

Simon's breath is hot against your skin, the weight of his body pinning you down so achingly familiar. It stirs up past memories that would have you pressing your thighs together if he wasn't right there, using his broad waist to spread them apart.

"Missed ya, love." A confession. "S'much."

The breath you draw is jagged, his slow-spoken words hanging in the air. You want to push him away, scream at him for stumbling in and disrupting your night, your rest, your carefully crafted peace. But there's a part of you that can't help but soften at the tenderness in his tone.

"Simon," you whisper. "You're drunk. You don't know what you're saying—" his lips find your fluttering pulse. You find purchase in his shirt, shaky fingers grasping at the hem.

"'M drunk, no' no liar." Your resolve wavers. No, he never had been. Honesty hadn't been the reason for the split. It wasn't the truth he'd spoken but the truths he'd kept to himself. A fortress around his heart, the bridge to its gates raised. Unwilling to share a burden, share a life.

His warm tongue licks a hot stripe up your neck reaching the lobe of your ear where his blunt teeth sink into it. A choked gasp spills from your mouth, spine arching in reflex— your treacherous body remembering his touch, yearning for it.

"Simon—" your words get caught in your throat; snag like fishhooks when he undulates his hips, arousal creeping along your veins like ivy.

"Don't ya miss me, pet?" You've asked him to not call you that because it never fails to stoke the fire in your belly, to sodden your knickers. Before you can chide him on his choice of words, he shifts. One arm, an inked column under the soft light of the living room, holds him up just enough to bring his rugged face into focus. His eyes, like a stormy night's sky, swirl with untamed desire.

You know it's dangerous to play with fire. Touch it and burn, ache, blister. But the passion of this old flame beckons like a siren with sharp teeth. Each drag of his prominent erection against your core only succeeds in pulling you away from the shore of clarity. It's disorienting, insistent.

Relentless.

"My pretty little love," he mumbles. Simon's gaze drags from your glassy eyes to the delicate contours of your collarbone. His fingers trace lines of intimacy onto the swell of your breasts before using the pad of his thumb to swirl the stiffened peak of your nipple. "Say the word 'nd it all stops."

The scent of alcohol clings to him, a bitter reminder of the loss of inhibitions it brings as it warms one's chest. Blurred lines he might not mind, but you do. Lost boundaries. Rejection sits on the tip of your tongue, on the edge of your teeth when he says something that frays the last threads of your resolve.

It comes undone.

"Please. Jus' tonigh'. All I need." His words sound like footsteps in winter mire, slushed, syllables blending together.

You'll just have to kick him out on his arse in the morning.

"Okay," you breathe. Just one night, you tell yourself. He's always been good to you in the bedroom. One last hurrah wouldn't hurt. Maybe it'll allow you to finally close this painful chapter in your life and start anew, with pristine white pages and fresh ink.

Your hands, trembling with nerves and anticipation, cradle his face. The roughness of his stubble in contrast with the softness of your palms is grounding, keeping you from being pulled under your own swirling emotions.

" 'M righ' 'ere, love. You're safe with me, always." He whispers the last words reverently, a vow. Simon's breath mingles with yours as he leans in for a kiss.

The world around you fades, your senses tunneled on the feel of his lips, the taste of him— mildly sweet with a hint of peppermint. He slants his head to deepen the kiss, and the bruising ache in your heart is replaced by another, one that burns brightly and threatens to sweep you away.

The lulling sound of the pouring rain outside is drowned out by the beating of your racing heart.

The bed creaks when Simon perches you on the edge of it, quietly ordering you to take your top off.

"What about my bottoms?" You bite down on the gummy inside of your cheek when he pins you in place with a look— a predator eyeing its prey.

"Those are mine." Resounding. Final. A gavel in a courtroom.

You fling your shirt off, tossing it into some forgotten corner in the room, and cheekily watch Simon undress. It's not methodical like it used to be. No longer a means to an end. Experienced fingers undo the buckle of his belt before he takes it off, the leather material snapping in the air, slicing through the silence.

A quip tumbles out of your mouth faster than you can stop it. "Gonna spank me with that?"

The air around you thickens— or thins, you can't be sure— when his eyes flash to you. He kicks off his jeans, one foot after the other, wobbling as he does. "Tha' wha' you want?" The words he didn't say ring out loud and clear.

Don't rattle the cage, sweetheart. This dog isn't muzzled.

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from saying anything else, something that he might take you up on, instead focusing on the way his heavy cock hangs in between legs (dangling with each step forward—)

"M'eyes are up 'ere." Your nose scrunches at his joke. Cute.

He lowers himself onto his knees, your legs cradling his face as it hovers over your sex, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath on your heated skin.

The sleeping shorts you're wearing are ratty and worn. They're thin too, practically translucent from constant use. Which means that he can see that you're not wearing any undergarments underneath.

"Hope you know I can—" Heat licks up the sides of your jaw, pooling in your cheeks as you cut him off with a snappy remark.

"Yes. I know."

The tip of his pointed tongue drags along the seam of your shorts, right along your slit. Your breath hitches, and you clench your jaw to keep from making a sound. Your back bows involuntarily, the feeling startling, intense.

"Can see tha' clear as day, as if lookin' through a windowpane, pet," he taunts. The words that are forming, almost ready to spill out, freeze in place when his mouth comes in direct contact with your slippery cunt. He licks once, twice, through your folds, slightly dipping into your slick entrance, only pulling away to nuzzle your pearl with his misaligned nose.

"Sweet as a peach, jus' like I remember," he purrs, the timbre of his voice buzzing against your puffy lips. "Missed this." A mewl slithers past your grit teeth when he gently sinks one thick finger into you, curling and twisting. Arousal drips onto his knuckle, tracing a hot path down to his wrist. He coos at you when he adds another digit, hissing at the sharp but brief pinprick of the stretch.

"Bloody fuckin' tight." Simon rises off the floor, the quiet sound of his knees popping swallowed up by your harsh pants. "Gotta let me in, love. Relax."

He keeps the thrusts shallow, his fingers dragging deliciously along your nerve endings. The sting soon fades, giving way to a gentle warmth that unfurls inside of you, letting Simon reach deeper until—

Your muscles stiffen, tight like a spring when he brushes over the rough patch of skin that has bursts of light appearing across your eyelids.

"Look at ya. Droolin' like a mutt with my fingers stuffed up your pretty cunt."

There's a pressure in your lower belly that's steadily building with each sloppy thrust of his hand, pulling squelching noises from your sodden pussy. He finally, finally, latches onto your neglected clit, lightly sucking on it in tandem with his fingers.

Your chin drops to your chest as everything nears a breaking point. The pressure inside you has your body wound tight. The fibers of your muscles contract, almost painfully, preparing for the release of what's to come, what can't be ignored.

The swirling of his golden tongue pushes against the boundaries of your endurance, pushes you to the precipice, where you finally hit the point of no return. You can feel something about to give, ecstasy trickling through the cracks in your foundation, uncontrollable, raw. Your fingers thread through Simon's hair, curling tightly, pulling it taut when you feel something about to give—oh fuck—

Snap.

The structure that holds everything in place collapses.

A sudden release of pent-up energy and emotion erupts like a dam bursting, a cleansing flood that washes away the grime of old wounds, of bitterness, leaving the edges softened so they can heal; knit closed and scar over. Closure. It touches every part of you, filling you with a sense of liberation.

Your heart beats freely, it throbs with life as a wave of relief washes over you, soothing, a balm over scraped flesh, a rush of cool air into starved lungs.

A lightness that comes after being weighed down with burdens for so long.

Simon's hands encircle your arms firmly— fingers digging into the meat of your biceps— and effortlessly maneuvers you toward the center of the bed as if your lethargic form were a feather caught in a breeze; weightless, insignificant.

Gentle but unyielding.

There's a ringing in your ears that muffles his voice, blurring the edges of his words, an unintelligible hum, as if you were underwater. The sensation leaves you feeling adrift in a tranquil sea, cradled in its silken embrace. The only anchor you have to the muzzy reality is his warm touch.

"'M sorry, sweetheart. I can't," he apologizes, hooking your right leg over his shoulder. You let out a sibilant hiss as he leans forward, pushing your knee to your chest, the corded muscle of your hamstring pulling to its limit. "Can't wait anymore, 'm sorry."

Simon gives you a sloppy kiss as his heaving length prods at your swollen entrance, the tip breaching your pussy with a warm burn that starts from under your navel and only flares, radiating from your core outward. It's searing, the initial bite of the stretch disrupts the haze in your muddled mind, bringing the world around you into cutting clarity.

A guttural noise claws up his throat as Simon sheathes himself halfway, his growled words not the salve he was hoping for. It only grates at already raw nerves, abrasive.

"Jus' a little more, you can take it." He winds a hand downward to draw messy circles on your slippery clit, to stifle the roaring fire in your stomach, your chest. "You already have."

His jerky touch does its job, transforming the sharp burn of him wrenching your walls apart fiber by fiber into a quiet glow; smoldering heat now simmering. You soften, mellow and pliant, accept him into your body as he sinks to the hilt with a quiet groan.

"There's my girl. Takin' all of it like you were made f'me." Simon's words of praise tangle around your spine, electric, prickling. Your heart gallops like a herd of horses, wild and free. "Liked tha' did you? Jus' about strangled my cock with your tight cunt."

He rolls his hips once, twice, searching for signs of discomfort, but when only warm pleasure laps at your heels, when the barest of moans spill from your open lips, Simon begins to put his weight behind his thrusts.

Through half-lidded eyes, you see a raw, primal hunger reflected in his eyes— his soul, the one he'd claimed to have lost long ago, back with his reason, his sanity.

Yet he looks down at you as if you were his only salvation. A lifeline he grabs onto with an unyielding grip, his only tether to hope, purpose. A lighthouse shining in a raging storm, a beacon calling him home.

Simon presses a large hand onto your lower stomach, his work-worn palm pushing until you wince, brows furrowing at the fleeting whisper of pain.

"Can feel myself right here," he sluggishly mumbles, drunk of the feel of your cunt, the taste of your skin on his tongue— sweet like ripened figs. The sensory overload has him sinking his fingers into your flesh until it dimples.

He murmurs something under his taxed breath, something akin to mine, only mine as his lips leave a slick trail of saliva on the dip of your collarbone, the gentle curve of your shoulder, the thin, soft skin of your bicep up to your inner wrist, where he laps at your pulse.

As if savoring the present. The precious gift he's unwrapped, here and now. The last taste of you, which he hopes with a reverence that borders on prayer, lingers on his tongue long after the fruit— the sweet evidence of this one last intimacy— falls from the bough.

Simon comes with his teeth in the crook of your neck, biting down with a crushing pressure that has an acute pain digging its spurs into your consciousness, cutting the blazing euphoria of your own release short.

His cock is still twitching as he fills you with his spend when he takes his thumb and collects some of your slick to take you over the edge one last time.

"F'me. You can take it, yeah? I'll go slow, I promise."

Simon presses a kiss on your sweaty temple, his large hand cupping your jaw as he lazily watches you succumb to sleep, your breath evening out.

He reaches for your arm again, feeling for the birth control implant you'd had there when the both of you were still together.

Gone.

Sweet girl. You'd let him in without a fight. (He makes a mental note to wash the beer off of his clothes tomorrow.)

He knows your cycle better than the lines that are etched onto his palm. Better than the voice of the captain who rumbles in his earpiece, ordering him to go for the throat.

From the moment you'd stepped into his life with eternity in your eyes and the warmth of the sun on your lips, you were his. And he'll do anything to remain in your orbit.

(left unable to distinguish prison from paradise when each poison-coated kiss softens the world he'll build for you and for what's to come.)

[xxgoldie]

happy little accidents

in which you accidentally send your nudes to lighter, and he definitely feels completely normal about it a/n: pls excuse the random letters that refuse to italicise, tumblr post editor hates me. notes: lighter x fem!reader (reader wears lingerie + one mention of boobs, otherwise pretty gn), mature (MDNI!!!), nudes (duh), mentions of rough sex, mentions of light bondage, kinda accidental voyeurism ig? wc: 1.1k

Y/N: [2 image attachments] what do you think?

A small smile makes its way onto Lighter's face when he saw your name pop up on his phone. Normally, he'd force it away - didn't exactly need people asking who had the Red Scarf grinning at his phone like that - but you'd caught him alone for once, resting on his bed after a long day. So he let himself smile, wondering what you'd sent him this time as he unlocked his phone - maybe pretty photos of the sky, or you were struggling to choose a drink at the convenience store, or you'd impulsively rearranged your room again. Corny as it was, it always made his heart skip a beat that it was him you thought of in those mundane little moments-

His heart skipped a different kind of beat when he opened your message.

Two mirror selfies, one facing forward, one in which you stretched to show your back. In both, you wore nothing but a gorgeous lingerie set, shocking red in lace and satin, a bra and panties and a sinful little garter belt...

In an instant, Lighter's thoughts were spiralling with questions and perverted fantasies. Why on earth were you sending him that? Not that he was complaining - he'd imagined you without your clothes more times than he cared to admit, and this was somehow better than any of his daydreams. Did Knock-Knock send screenshot notifications? Were these photos an invitation? A single word from you and he'd be there - he could fuck you right in front of that mirror, watch the bounce of your pretty ass and the way he'd make your eyes roll at the same time. A quick search told him that no, Knock-Knock didn't send screenshot notifications. Two clicks and the images were in his camera roll, quick future access to his personal slice of heaven. Shit, the red of that lingerie was basically the same shade as his scarf. Had you done that on purpose? You'd look so good in just that set and the scarf around your neck. Or he could tie it around your wrists, keep your hands attached to the bed as he pounded you into the mattress. Fuck, he should probably respond. What was he meant to say? Should he tell you what he was thinking about? That he was imagining taking you from behind, those crimson panties pulled to the side, no way he'd take them off when you'd dressed up so pretty for him-

Y/N: HOLY SHIT WRONG PERSON I'M SO SORRY

Okay. Maybe not for him.

For the second time in as many minutes, you sent Lighter's thoughts spiralling. Who did you intend to send those photos to if not him? Not that he expected you to send him raunchy photos, but he didn't think you were seeing anyone. He liked to think you'd have told him, even if it wasn't serious. Had he overestimated how close you were? Or was there some other reason - did you not think he'd approve? Well, not that Lighter would truly approve of any partner that wasn't himself, but you didn't know that. As long as they treated you well, he would be happy for you. Did they not treat you well? The mere thought had him clenching his fists with the sudden desire to throttle someone. And the tent in his pants wasn't exactly helping him clear his head, especially when the beautiful cause for it was still on his screen. And the intended recipient of those photos was the nameless, faceless mystery he was in the mood to throttle.

Crap. He still hadn't responded to you. You probably thought he'd left you on read.

Y/N: i meant to ask lucy for advice on the set ur names are next to each other i'm so sorry again, u did not need to see that

Right. Lucy often gave you advice on clothes - on the times you joined him in the city, you were constantly texting her pictures of clothes you saw in shop windows, wondering if you should buy them. And it made sense - the fact he got a full view of your body between the two photos was just a heavenly side effect of you trying to show both sides of the set. This didn't mean there wasn't someone else in mind with the lingerie, but at least you hadn't meant to send those photos to some asshole who you couldn't even tell him about.

But, more pressingly, he still had to respond. You'd sent Lighter six messages now, and he'd opened them immediately and not said anything the whole time. Not even typing. Just staring at the photos of your boobs like the lovestruck, horny idiot he was. He told himself to get a grip.

He had to be chill about it. He could tell you were freaking out a little on the other end of the phone - he just had to let you know it was okay, that you hadn't made anything weird. Without any hints to the fact he was picturing every possible dirty scenario that involved you, him and that pretty lace.

you're all good, don't stress about it

Shit. That came out way too dismissive. He should have addressed the situation more. Or would that be weird? Lighter was struck by the realisation that, for maybe the first time ever, he had no idea what to say to you. Words always flowed with you, even when you had his heart thumping in his chest; conversation had always been as easy as breathing. Though, to be totally fair, this whole situation was making breathing a bit more difficult too.

Y/N: thank u T^T this is so embarrassing fr

The message had served its purpose, at least. The two of you could move on with your lives. But there was still that itch he couldn't scratch; the guilt of enjoying the accident so much without you knowing, coupled with a desperate feeling that an opportunity was passing him by.

Lighter's fingers were flying across the keyboard in an instant, lurid compliments backspaced and overcorrected with praise that was far too chaste for the situation, then back in the other direction. He couldn't exactly tell you that he was thinking about fucking you so hard you'd leave scratches down his back the same beautiful scarlet as your bra, but calling pictures like that 'cute' would probably be insulting. The respectful balance he was looking for seemed just out of reach.

Eventually, he settled on something, finger hovering over the send button a little too long until he muttered a quick "fuck it", sending the message before the inevitable panic could set in.

if it's not weird to say, you look gorgeous in it

bonus!!

lighter's the kind of guy to send a risky text and immediately throw his phone into a river bc he got nervous abt how you'd respond

[brokenmenswhore]

helloooo do u think u could do a poly marauders smut where they all get jealous and punish reader 😁

absolutely i do

punish | poly!marauders

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader (james, remus, & sirius)

warnings: choking, rough sex (MDNI 18+), smut, spanking, triple penetration (including anal)

────── ☾ ──────

“You’re joking. I mean, you have to be joking, right?”

You toyed with your fingers, watching your hand movements in an effort to keep your head down and avoid eye contact as your legs began to shake, your feet reaching the floor as you sat on the edge of your bed. “I’m sorry, it just felt like something I should tell you-“

“It felt like something you should tell us? Fucking hell, angel, you can’t be agreeing to dates with other guys when you’re with us.”

You sighed, protesting, “but it’s not a date! He just needs help studying, I just thought it would be weird if I didn’t tell you.”

“If it’s something you have to sit us down and tell us about, doesn’t that set off a red flag?” James asked calmly, trying to level with you.

“I mean, not always,” you admitted, “I kinda have to do this with Sirius every time I even breathe the same air as a boy.”

Sirius was pacing back and forth in front of your bed, but he stopped when you spoke his name, turning toward you. “Do not act all innocent with me, you know you lead them on.”

“I don’t!” you protested.

Sirius was frustrated, his nostrils flaring as he gripped your jaw, forcing your head upward and your eyes to look at him.

“Look me in the eyes and try to tell me you didn’t say yes to him, knowing we would have an issue with it.”

“I-“

“That’s what I thought,” Sirius spat, “you knew how we would react, yet you agreed to it anyway.”

“You don’t control my decisions.”

You knew what you were doing by talking back to Sirius. He knew you made your own choices, but the truth was, you made this choice because you knew it would piss your boyfriends off. When they were jealous, they were mean.

Sirius tightened his grip. “What did you just say to me?”

“Take it easy, Sirius,” Remus said, approaching you two, “she’s clearly doing it to get a rise out of you.”

Sirius stared into your eyes. “Are you?”

Instead of responding, you couldn’t help but let out a small giggle, which was the wrong thing to do.

Sirius pulled you to a stand by your jaw, spinning you around and pushing your front down, folding you onto the mattress.

“Something funny?” Sirius asked, and you shook your head no, your breath taken away by the haste of his action.

Remus leaned over the other side of the bed, his chin resting against the mattress, his face level with your own. “I tried to stick up for you, but unfortunately I think you’re going to miss your date.”

“It’s not a d-“

Before you could finish your retort, Sirius connected his palm with the flesh of your ass, causing your body to jolt slightly forward.

You gasped at the sudden pain, and Remus stuck his lower lip out, hyperbolically pouting. “Poor baby, did that hurt? Maybe you shouldn’t agree to dates with other guys.”

You sighed. “But I told you it-“

Sirius hit you again, harder this time. You nearly squeaked at the surprise of the feeling.

“Just stop talking, baby,” James said. He was standing somewhere behind you, near Sirius, but you couldn’t see him. He was always the nicest to you, and his brain felt bad when you were being punished, as much as his cock disagreed.

Sirius flipped your skirt up and pulled your underwear down your legs, exposing you from behind to your boyfriends.

“James, care to take over?” Sirius asked, backing away from your body.

James smiled, dropping to his knees, his face level with your core. You couldn’t see what was happening, but you knew it was James from the way he slowly darted out his tongue, tasting between your folds as his hands came to hold your waist, keeping you in place.

James was by far the most skilled with his tongue, so the boys elected that he would be best equipped to work you up properly.

You rested the side of your head against the sheets, whining softly as James began to taste you, swirling his tongue around your bud and sucking on your clit.

It was difficult for you to stay quiet, especially with James between your legs. The more he worked you up, the louder he became.

“Fuck,” you whimpered.

“Shut up,” Remus demanded.

You couldn’t help but continue to moan and whine as James flicked your bud, causing your legs to shake slightly as he grabbed your ass, pressing his face even closer into your cunt.

“I said shut up,” Remus warned, “bad girls don’t get to make noise.”

“I’m not a bad girl,” you protested.

Remus gave you a wide-eyed stare. “You really wanna be punished today, huh?”

You only squealed in response when James’s tongue began to move faster and faster, trying to coax you to climax.

Remus bent down next to you and clasped a hand over your mouth, shutting you up since you wouldn’t do so yourself.

Your moans were muffled under his hand, which only worked James up more. He wanted to watch you struggle, and he wanted to make you moan so loud that it wouldn’t matter if Remus’s hand was covering your mouth or not.

You gripped the sheets, trying to steady yourself. Sirius, who was suddenly behind you, lifted one of your legs until it was bent on the bed, giving James even easier access to your core. You were even more on display for the boys with your skirt forcibly pushed up around your waist.

You were whining freely underneath Remus’s hand, your orgasm threatening to crash over you at any moment. Just when you began to squirm from the near overstimulation, James pulled away, bending his body identically over yours and moving his hand to insert a finger into your core.

You tried to press your forehead into the sheets, but Remus’s grip on your mouth was too tight. As James began to ruthlessly move his finger in and out of you, his unoccupied hand pressed the side of your head into the mattress.

“You wanna come?” he whispered into your ear, and you did your best to nod your head, but it was nearly impossible.

Just as you began to squeeze around James’s finger, he pulled completely away from you, leaving your core feeling empty and your body cold due to his body no longer against yours.

Your cunt clenched around nothing, the empty feeling causing you to wiggle your ass in an attempt to get one of the boys to give you the attention you now craved.

“Flip.”

Remus’s voice was strict, your body reacting to his instruction as you stood and turned over, laying back down on the bed. Finally facing upward, you could see what was going on.

Remus stood between your legs and pulled you toward the edge of the bed. You leaned yourself up on your elbows, but Sirius was way ahead of you, gripping your wrists and pinning your arms on either side of your head.

Remus pulled down his pants, lining the tip of his cock up with your entrance.

“Gotta remind you who you belong to, hm?” Remus said, slowly pushing the head of his cock into you.

He quickly pulled it back out, teasing your entrance as Sirius held your wrists down, watching you squirm and writhe in need and anticipation.

“Actually, I don’t know,” Remus said, continuing to tease you, “seems you might have already forgotten who’s you are.”

You furiously shook your head no, trying to demonstrate that you hadn’t forgotten you were theirs. You were so desperate to feel Remus inside of you, that you would have done anything to get him to fuck you already.

“Tell us you’re ours,” Sirius demanded, his face next to yours as he stood on the opposite side of the bed, still holding your wrists.

“I am, I’m yours-“

“So then you shouldn’t have agreed to date another guy,” James said, cutting you off.

The moment James’s sentence finished, Remus slammed his entire length into you, causing your body to hit forward.

You cried out, and Sirius dropped your wrists, instead opting to cover your mouth with one hand and your neck with the other.

Remus began to snap his hips in and out, not giving you an adjustment period before he began to ruthlessly fuck you. You didn’t dare move the positioning of your arms, keeping them up as you gripped the sheets beside your head.

You tried to moan and whine, but Sirius had a firm grip on your throat and was using the hand over your mouth to press your head deeper and deeper into the mattress.

Tears threatened to spill from the intensity, which was involuntary, but was also Sirius’s favorite thing.

“Aweh, poor baby, you gonna cry?” Sirius mocked.

You couldn’t help the slight hiccups that came as you cried, which only egged Sirius on more. “You don’t wanna be punished anymore, hm? Then maybe you shouldn’t be saying yes to other guys like a filthy fucking whore.”

You tried to nod your head in protest that no, you were not a filthy fucking whore, and you didn’t say yes to other guys, but you could barely move.

Remus was gripping your hips with no remorse, nearly bruising the skin from the pressure. He leaned over you, adding onto Sirius’s words as he whispered in your ear with each thrust, “filthy. Fucking. Whore.”

You were trying to catch your breath from your cries, but you could only take deep breaths through your nose. The boys were amused watching you struggle, and Remus was fucking you hard, consumed with his own pleasure and hellbent on denying you yours.

Your walls began to clench around Remus, and he immediately pulled out, bending over to steady himself. He had denied himself an orgasm in order to prevent yours. Still, he backed away from you, no intent to finish himself off when you were right there.

Sirius let go of your mouth and neck, but only to shift positions with the boys. You took the opportunity to immediately cry, “please, Rem, please, I need it-“

“Sh,” James took over, “I’m sorry, bunny, but this is a punishment, and you know what that means, don’t you?”

You sniffled, “I don’t get to come until all of you do.”

“Good girl,” James said, “stand up for a second for me, yeah?”

You stood, your legs shaking as James laid down on the mattress and patted his lower stomach. You crawled back onto the bed, swinging one leg over his waist to straddle him.

He was already unclothed, and Sirius was the same, appearing behind you as he knelt on the bed between James’s legs.

You looked between the two boys in confusion before your eyes widened in realization.

“Siri, I can’t-“

Sirius could tell you were nervous, so he dropped the intense wall for a brief moment to ask you for your consent.

Despite your tears, you nodded yes, wanting to please them but also aware that you could absolutely handle it.

“Up,” James tapped the side of your thigh, prompting you to raise your hips. He gave himself a few lazy strokes before lining himself up with your entrance. You slowly sank down onto his length, sighing in appreciation at the feeling of being filled again.

When you were all the way down, James pulled your body against his, holding you tightly as he stilled inside of you.

Sirius had already lubricated his cock in preparation, bending down to bite the flesh of your ass before lining his tip up with your other hole.

James held you tightly as Sirius pushed just his tip inside, a long gasp leaving your lips at the sudden intrusion.

You buried your face into the crook of James’s neck as Sirius slowly inserted himself into your ass. If you let out a particularly high squeak, Sirius stilled for a moment, but otherwise he moved as slow as he possibly could until his entire length was inside of you.

James lifted his head off the bed to peek at where your three bodies connected, bridged through you, and you took the opportunity to grab the back of James’s head, desperate for anything other than the mattress to ground yourself on.

You stayed in your position, heavy breathing as you adjusted to both boys, Sirius grabbing your hips and James’s arms remaining wrapped around your torso.

“Tell us when we can move, doll,” Sirius said, his composure faltering.

You gave it a few minutes, allowing the pain to subside as your hole stretched, before telling the boys, “I’m okay.”

James and Sirius exchanged a look, and James smiled wide as he slowly pushed his hips upward, stimulating your cunt. You moaned from the sudden movement, holding James close to you as he loosened his grip around your body, shifting and holding the sides of your torso as he moved, trying his hardest to keep you from bouncing. He was afraid of hurting you due to Sirius, but it was hard to hold back when you were on top of him with two cocks inside of you.

James set a steady pace, not nearly as rough as Remus, but not slow either. After a few minutes of adjusting to James, Sirius tightened his grip on your hips in warning.

You inhaled a sharp breath in anticipation right before Sirius slowly pulled a tiny bit out, pushing back in to test the waters. You nearly collapsed even more onto James’s body, but Sirius’s grip kept your hips tilted upward.

Sirius began to move in and out slowly, cautious of just how far back he pulled out with each stroke. It hurt like hell for a moment before the pain subsided, and all you could feel was pleasure twice over.

“Fuckin’ hell,” James moaned, throwing his head back against the pillows as both he and Sirius worked you up.

They tried to stay in a rhythm, one pushing in while the other pulled out, but quickly became too engrossed in the act to worry about the other one’s pacing.

You were still crying softly, whining and whimpering at a much higher pitch than you usually did.

Sirius smacked your ass, causing you to throw your head back and moan. He took the opportunity to grip your hair, keeping your head in position. At the new angle, James could see your face clearly, and he couldn’t look away.

“Who do you belong to?” Sirius asked.

You nearly choked trying to speak. “You.”

Sirius balled your hair up into a ponytail, signaling James to take over the hold. James grabbed your hair, pulling until your head was turned to look at where Sirius connected his body with yours.

Your holes were so tight around both boys that they both knew they wouldn’t last long.

“Looks so fuckin’ good,” James said, “you like it when Sirius and I fuck you at the same time?”

You only moaned in response, but that wasn’t good enough. Sirius spanked you again, and you looked him dead in his eyes, swallowing your pride and embarrassment and saying, “I love it when you fuck me at the same time.”

Sirius groaned at your words, especially the sight of you speaking them while looking him in the eyes, and he subsequently picked up the pace.

There was a sudden tap on your jaw, and you cocked your head upward to see Remus kneeling in front of you, lazily stroking his cock in front of your face.

“You wanna be a good girl?” he asked you.

You nodded your head yes, and before he could even instruct you to open your mouth, you stuck your tongue out, ready for him.

He gave you a smile in return before he pushed his cock past your lips. You struggled to move your head, your body rocking in all directions from the two boys already inside of you, and Remus noticed instantly.

“Sh, sh, keep your head still, that’s it, good girl,” Remus spoke, gently holding the back of your head as he began to thrust his hips forward into your mouth.

Every few hits, his cock grazed the back of your throat, causing you to gag a moan. The sound and sight drove Sirius over the edge, and his thrusts became harder and sharper.

James didn’t calm down as Sirius became more intense, and Remus didn’t care about either of them.

Sirius hit a final few thrusts before he pulled out of you, spilling his seed onto your ass and hips, watching as it dripped down the curves of your body.

Remus was the second to come, so worked up from earlier that he knew he would be done for within minutes, and he was right. His come shot to the back of your throat, and you swallowed the entire load, sticking your tongue out to show him you had done so.

You dropped your head in a desperate attempt to relax as James continued to thrust up into you. You were fighting with everything you were to keep from coming, and you desperately needed James to release so you could, but he was arguably being the meanest of them all.

Every time he would feel himself approaching his climax, he would force himself to slow down. He was greedy, and now that Remus and Sirius were done, he had you all to himself. He knew you were fucked out, but he also knew you hadn’t come yet, and wanted to savor the journey.

“Jamie, please-“ you cried.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he whispered in your ear.

“I’m yours, I’m all of yours-“

“No no, baby, tell me you’re mine.”

You moved to hold yourself up on either side of James’s head, looking down at him as you spoke softly so that only he could hear, “I’m yours, James, all yours.”

Your words were enough for him.

He came inside of you, his leg muscles spasming as he hit deep within your cervix.

He came down from his high inside of you, pulling out and lifting you upward, his hands on your hips as he shifted you to lay down on the bed.

You rested your back against the sheets, looking at your three boyfriends, nervous and expectant.

“I don’t know, do you think you deserve to come?” Sirius asked.

You furiously nodded your head yes, the aching between your legs growing. You were tired, but you were desperate.

“I just don’t know-“

“Please,” you begged.

“Sirius, c’mon,” James bargained, running his fingers through his hair, “she did great. Just let her come already.”

Sirius looked to Remus, who was way ahead of him.

Remus took his position between your legs, gently spreading them apart as you whimpered.

“Sh, you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you responded, “I’m alright.”

“You ready for me?”

“Please,” you breathed out.

Remus slowly inserted himself into you, your back arching up off the bed from the overstimulation.

For the first time the whole time you’d been getting punished, Remus leaned down and kissed you. You nearly choked on tears from the happiness and relief that came from the feeling of his lips on yours. While you enjoyed the roughness and punishment, it was nice to be grounded back to safety and intimacy.

Remus continued to kiss you as he fucked you, never moving too fast for fear that he may hurt you. You were overstimulated and edged enough that within few minutes, you came hard around Remus, never breaking the kiss as you whined into his mouth.

Remus didn’t pull away as your legs shook rapidly. You rested them flush against the mattress, and Remus slowly pulled out of you, giving you one final kiss before rolling off of you.

You caught your breath, unable and unwilling to move from your position from pure exhaustion.

“Gonna get you cleaned up and then we’ll all relax together, okay?” Sirius cooed, wiping the sweat-soaked hair away from your face.

“Thank you,” you said as he gently maneuvered a washcloth between your legs.

When you were cleaned up, James lifted you off the bed, and Remus pulled the sheets down before James placed you back down, pulling the sheets up over you and shifting into bed next to you. Remus joined you on the other side.

“Fuck you guys, where am I supposed to go?”

You shifted slight forward, and Sirius took the hint, climbing over everyone to seat himself directly behind you. You rested back against his chest, exhaustion consuming your body as you fell into a sleep that meant you would most certainly miss your “date.”

[httpdwaekki]

movie night | s.c. ft b.c.

summary: after a rough day all you wanted was a movie night with your favorite boys, but when they forget it feels like you’re world is crumbling.

wc: 2.1k

warnings: hurt/comfort, fem!reader, gendered terms of endearment (sweet girl, baby girl, etc.), crying, meltdown.

a/n: i kinda got lost in the sauce w this one but week three wooo!!! don’t forget to check out @straykeedz versions!!! i hope you guys enjoy and as always, drink water, eat something, and take ur meds. <3

(i tense switch alot during this, i wrote it half asleep most of the time, i’ll edit it eventually lmao)

my library | bee’s vers | bee | binnie month | fundraiser

(pictures not mine! credit to owners!)

you were having a terrible day, nothing was going right and the only thing keeping you from completely breaking down was the movie night you had planned with your boyfriends.

8 o’clock came and you were all set up in your living room with snacks, blankets and of course wolf chan and dwaekki. you were sat on the couch, barely containing your excitement for the night ahead.

but then 8:15 came and you were still sat there alone, and then 8:20 you decided to send them a gentle reminder.

from sweet girl <3:

hi my loves, i’m all set up for movie night whenever you guys are ready 🖤

but 8:30 rolled around and then 9:00 and by that point you had sent several texts

from sweet girl <3:

i’m assuming you guys are still at the studio, just let me know when you’re on your way! love you guys 🖤

it’s getting kinda late, i hope everything’s okay, love you both very much 🖤🖤

i hope everything’s okay, but it’s getting late so i’m heading to bed, we can do movie night another night, goodnight my loves

now it’s 10:00, you had a terrible day and now the one thing you were looking forward to fell through, you were defeated. at your last texts you moped into your room needing nothing more than your warm bed and comfort movie.

luckily you had already put the snacks away after an hour of waiting realizing they probably forgot. once cozy in bed, you put monsters inc on your tv and pulled the two stuffies to your chest.

it was at this point the realization of what happened hit and you couldn’t stop the breakdown that followed. tears streaming down your face, breathing terribly uneven, and incoherent words falling from your mouth.

“they- they forgot about me.” you whimpered, hugging the plushies impossibly closer to you. the hoodie from changbin that usually helps calm you down, was now just a painful reminder of the two missing people.

you ripped the article of clothing off in an attempt to calm yourself, throwing it across the room. you settled back into the soft mattress, placing the gray and pink plushes to the side, opting for your soft blanket to calm yourself.

luckily after a few minutes your comfort movie had worked it’s magic and you felt yourself relax enough to finally fall into dreamland, tears drying against your skin as you slept.

unbeknownst to you, your boys were scrambling 15 minutes away in the studio. the producers had a habit of locking up their phones during their working hours to limit distractions but unfortunately that caused them to also forget about the plans they made with their favorite girl.

“oh fuck, hyung we gotta go, like now.” changbin shot up out of his chair once he realized the time. they were supposed to be at your apartment 2 hours ago to start movie night. “huh? what, what happened, what’s wrong?” trying to figure out what could’ve pulled such a reaction from the younger boy.

“look at the time,” he points to the time to emphasize his statement. “oh fuck,” the older of the two’s eyes goes as wide a saucers, whipping his head to the former. “we were supposed to be there 2 hours ago.” bin nods his head before moving to shut everything down.

“okay, okay, relax bin, let me save everything, you pack everything up then we can leave, okay?” changbin nods, realizing he’s right, this will all be completely in vain if they lost everything they were working on.

in the midst of gathering their items, changbin finally looks at his phone where he finds all the messages you sent, the last one being sent 15 minutes ago. he quickly texts out a response, hoping you hadn’t fallen asleep yet.

from binbin <3:

princess we’re so so sorry, we got caught up in work, we’re packing and heading to you now. we love you so so much baby. 🩷🩷

he puts his nail in his mouth, gnawing on it anxiously as his leg shakes. after saving all the files and shutting everything down, chan turns back to find a very anxious changbin staring at his phone.

he makes his way next to him, placing his hand on the shaking leg. “hey, what’s going on?” he asks gently. changbin looks up, unshed tears line his soft eyes. “she texted us 11 times.” his breathes, shaking his head, showing him the phone screen.

“and we ignored every single one of them. what if she was hurt? what if something happened? we would’ve never known” he rambles, sending himself further into a spiral.

“hey, hey,” he gently grabs the younger’s cheek, “she’s safe, she’s home in bed asleep,” his thumb slowly stroking his cheek, soothing the anxious man. “we’re going to her now, everything will be okay, okay?” bin nods his head, closing his eyes, letting a stray tear or two run down his cheek.

chan wipes the tears before placing a soft, loving kiss to his temple. “okay, let’s go see our girl.” chan smiles, grabbing his hand pulling him up with him.

once they made it to your apartment (not without breaking a few traffic laws), they let themselves in with the spare key you made them. quickly discarding their shoes, practically running to your room but not without missing the wrapped up snacks in your kitchen or the discarded blanket pile on your couch.

changbin pauses, guilt clutching his heart as he sees your discarded preparations. “come on.” chan quietly ushers, pointing to your room with a quick movement of his head. bin is quick to follow, needing to see you as soon as possible.

chan opens your door, finding a sleeping lump in the middle of your bed and none other than monsters inc playing softly on the screen. that alone told them everything they needed to know but then the thrown hoodie on the floor and two plushies laying next to you instead of clutched to your chest?

they knew they messed up, big time. bin went to rush to you, to wake you up and apologize profusely but chan stops him. “hold on, you might scare her.” bin nods understanding that even though he means well, you were in a very fragile mental state.

the older man carefully sits on the side of your bed, placing a hand to your shoulder. it was only then did he catch a glimpse of the tears stains dried to your chubby cheeks. his breath hitches, causing changbin to look after, catching sight of the same thing, his eyes filling with tears once more.

chan holds out his hand to give him a quick squeeze and a kiss before turning back to the problem at hand. he lays his chin on your shoulder, softly rubbing your arm to coax you awake.

“sweet girl,” he whispers, placing kisses to your shoulder, trying to wake you up as softly as possible. “wake up baby girl.” you slowly come back to consciousness, realizing that there was someone touching you.

you would have been scared if you didn’t recognize the familiar aussie voice. chan sits back as he feels you stir, bin coming to sit beside him, placing a hand to your thigh.. you turn to find your boys looking at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen.

you feel the familiar sting behind your eyes but you quickly rub your eyes, masking your tears. “hi” your voice quiet, sleep lacing your voice. “hi sweetheart.” the aussie coos, “hi bunny.” bin whispers, his fingers tracing patterns on your thighs soothing him you.

“we’re sorry baby, we completely lost track of time, and we put our phones away so we didn’t see you texted, we’re just- really sorry bubba.” you nod, willing your tears away before you spoke.

“it’s okay, i understand.” you say lowly, fidgeting with the soft material to keep your composure. but try as you might the two boys knew you all too well.

“no it’s not,” bin finally speaks, causing you to catch a glimpse of him. two streaks shine on his soft cheeks against the glow of the tv, caught your eye. you sit up, moving chan, attempting to reach changbin.

“it’s not okay, we knew we had plans with you today, and not only did we miss it, we ignored you-” you cut him off with a kiss, your hand coming to wipe the wet streaks away. you pull away, your own tears making their way down your chubby cheeks.

“i am upset, but i’m not mad. i just had a bad day and this was the one thing i was looking forward to and it was just the final straw.” pause, sniffling as chan grabs the hand still in your lap.

“i was inconsolable and your hoodie and the stuffies just felt like a reminder of my bad day.” you look down, your hand falling from the soft man’s cheek to your lap, where he grabs your hand. you hear a sniffle, cause your head to shoot up where you find them both with wet streaks on their cheeks.

your lip wobbles as you see your boys upset, you shake your head frantically. before you can even open your mouth, chan shakes his head before moving behind you, pulling you to his chest. binnie moves to sit in chan’s previous position, placing a soothing hand on your thigh.

“do not apologize, you did nothing wrong, us being upset or missing movie night is not your fault, nor is it your problem to fix.” he whispers in your ear, rubbing your soft tummy. your lip wobbles again, dropping your head into your hands as you sob.

bin moves to wrap his arms around you, bringing you to him as best he could with you against chan. they knew you were upset and the best thing for you was to let you cry it out as heart wrenching as your sobs are.

they just hold you as you calm down, binnie rubbing your back, placing kisses to your temple. chan rubbing your tummy, placing kisses to your shoulder.

you pull away once you feel calm enough, wiping your tears as you sniffle. “thank you, both of you, i love you both more than you know.” you give bin a kiss first before turning around as best you could, doing the same to chan.

“come on, let’s get you to sleep, we’ll talk more in the morning, sweet girl, okay?” he pats your tummy, waiting for you to nod your head before moving the blankets to give you space in the middle of the bed. you carefully move over, shivering as you land on the cold side of the mattress.

both boys get up, chan rounding the bed to get to the other side while binnie goes to grab his discarded hoodie. he makes it back to your side as chan sits on the edge of the bed.

“sit it up for me quick bunny. “ he says, kneeling on the bed, scrunching the fabric. you sit up, lifting your arms so he can slip the familiar fabric over your head. once you slide your hands through the sleeves, the hood covering a part of your face.

you give him a cheesy smile before shooting out to wrap your arms around him. he wraps his arms around your shoulders, placing a big kiss to your hood covered head. “mwah!” he plops down next to me, getting comfy under the blankets.

you adjust the hoodie a bit before leaning against the plush pillows. chan lifts up the two stuffies, placing them to your chest, wrapping your arm around them. you smile once again, rolling over to place a big kiss on his cheek.

once you settle back into the bed, they both wrap their arms around you, making you feel safe and secure. “good night bubba, we love you,” chan whispers in your ear before placing a loving kiss to your soft cheek. “so so much bunny.” binnie finishes, placing a kiss to your other cheek.

you melt right into their arms. you get comfortable, turning on your side to face binnie, laying your head on his chest, grabbing chan’s arm to stay around you. “i love you both too, more than you know.” you mumble, placing a kiss to bin’s pec and chan’s hand.

you all melt into each other, relaxing slowly as sleep welcomes you, the soft sounds of monsters inc playing as you all lay peacefully in each other’s arms.

[hottiesforhockey]

may the best brother win pt. 2 ⎜hughes brothers

pairings: quinn hughes x afab!reader ⎜luke hughes x afab!reader ⎜ jack hughes x afab!reader ⎜ genre: romance ⎜bachelorette-esque situations ⎜angst? ⎜friends - to - lovers warnings: awkwardness between reader and Jack⎜mentions of a bet / competition⎜friendly love-hate relationship ⎜luke being a cutie patootie ⎜luke's love language is very much physical touch ⎜ kissing with mild heavy petting ⎜jack's kind of an asshole in this one ⎜miscommunication ⎜ synopsis: you have been friends with the hughes brothers for years - but why does this summer feel so different? word count: 5.1k authors note:  this is luke's chapter - I've always seen things saying that luke is super sweet and shy but really playful with people he knows so I kinda went with that for this story - anyway I hope you all enjoy! (p.s. i will be posting chapter aesthetic pics at the bottom so you can get an idea of what I was picturing :) )

(unedited)

“You look like you’ve been kissed.” Lukes voice carries through your bedroom, as you stand in front of your vanity mirror, trying to braid your hair to avoid it getting stuck to you with sweat overnight. 

“Huh?” You question, turning around too quick to be casual to look at the long legged boy sprawling himself across your bed. 

“Your lips are a little swollen?” Luke continues, trying to play oblivious to the nerve he was hitting with his words. 

“Didn’t know you pay so much attention to my lips, Lukey.” You hiss back, turning back towards the mirror watching him in the reflection.  You stick your tongue out at him, a quirk of his lips brightening the atmosphere as he leans forwards, his elbows pressing into his thighs. 

“So how’d the date go? You both came back in a bit of a weird mood.” Luke notes, his eyes catching the small twitch of your jaw as you clench and unclench thinking of what to respond with, “Did something happen between you two?” He adds, goading you for a reaction. 

“The date was nice.” You say softly, finishing the second braid and tying it off with a hair band before turning around to face the intruder. “He’s very serious about this bet thought, so you better have something good planned.” Your snark surprises Luke as you walk around to the other side of the bed, slipping onto the mattress besides him. 

“He did kiss you didn’t he?” Luke’s smile is outrageously large as you cover your face with your hands, already feeling the tips of your ears burning. 

“Don’t say anything.” You snap, letting out a long groan into your hands as the tingle returns to your lips - the featherlight feeling of Jack’s lips still lingering. “It was spur of the moment, it didn’t really mean anything.” You admit - the memory of Jacks joking comment playing through your head on repeat. 

“Does Jack feel that way?” Luke asks, his question, making your turn your head in your hands, just peeking over at him from the corner of your eyes. 

“I mean he said and I quote ‘if I don’t win this competition, I’m gonna say it’s rigged’, so I don’t really think feelings were on his mind.” You say, trying to do your best Jack impression, your voice mockingly low as you recall his words. Luke winces as you sigh, leaning back against your headboard - the large puppy of a man turning on his side to face you. 

“I think you made him nervous, kitten.” Luke whispers. 

“If you ever call me kitten again, I’ll cut your balls off and feed them to you in a sandwich.” You snap, Luke immediately throwing his hands up in defence. 

“I’m just testing some out - give it time, pumpkin.” 

“Get the fuck out of my room.” 

“I’m kidding.” He laughs, his hands grabbing hold of your wrists as you try to shove him off the bed. “But I was being serious, Jack says stupid shit when he’s nervous or caught off guard.” 

“Are you saying kissing me somehow made him nervous?” You can’t help the way your head shakes as Luke nods his in agreement with what you’re saying. “There is no way, hot shot hockey star got nervous from kissing the girl he went bra shopping with when they were ten.” 

“It’s just a suspicion, so don’t take his stupid comments to heart.” Luke admits, dragging the covers which lay folded at the end of the bed over the two of your before settling down into the pillows. 

“What are you doing?” 

“My room is so far away.” He whines, patting the space next to him waiting for you to follow suit. “I’m not leaving so get comfortable.” Luke adds, his arms crossed against his chest, a triumphant smile on his face as you settle into your own pillows turning your back to face him. 

“Get a good nights rest cause we have a big day tomorrow.” Luke warns before rolling around in the bed till he finds a comfortable position. 

+

+

The sound of “eye of the tiger” blaring in your dark bedroom and the heavy arm over your waist is what makes you crack your eyes open - glancing around to confirm the you are still in fact in your own bedroom. You glance down at the arm around you in confusion, your eyebrows lifting in surprise at the sight of Luke’s fingers entwined with yours sitting comfortably against the comforter. “No wonder my hand is so sweaty.” You mumble

“Luke.” You groan, trying to get his hand to release yours so you can tug the covers up and over your head. 

“Shit, sorry.” He mumbles back, his eyes barely opened as his fingers release yours, rolling onto his back, slapping his hand around the mattress for his phone. “Eight AM sugar cookie, rise and shine.” His voice is crackling with sleep as his arm drops back to the mattress the alarm no longer singing the song of Rocky Balboa. 

“Sugar Cookie?” 

“I know, it’s just not right, is it?” He agrees, as he raises his hands to rub at his face before pulling himself into a sitting position. “We gotta get up though, can’t let date day go to waste.” You dare a glimpse over at the curly headed morning freak who is greeting you with a beaming grin, you can already see the energy buzzing under his skin. 

“Time for us to get our game faces on!” He grins, flicking your forehead gently. “The bet’s not gonna win itself.” 

You roll your eyes, sitting up and stretching. “This is ridiculous. I don’t even know why you’re this invested.” 

“You’re just mad cause Jacky made a boo boo.” Luke teases as he slides off the bed, walking over to your curtains to rip them open, unleashing the morning sun in your face.  “You don’t think I’m gonna let him just coast to victory, do you? He thinks he can just kiss you out of nowhere and then act like it’s nothing?” Luke’s voice is teasing, but there’s an edge to it, and you catch a glimpse of his competitive streak.

“Pfft, not on my watch. I’m gonna make this the most fun you’ll ever have on a date.” He tries to keep his face serious as he adds, “You’re going to go on other dates and be like ‘god I wish this was even close to being as much fun as I had with devilishly handsome and oh so charming Luke Hughes’.” He mimics trying to raise his voice as high as it’ll go. 

“Actually scratch that - you’re not going to go on other date ever again cause you’ll be so enamoured by me.” He corrects, his smile as wide as it can get as you let out a bark of laughter. 

“Very funny - now get out and I’ll get ready for whatever you’re going to enamour me with.” 

“As you wish, m’lady.” He says as he makes his way to the door, pulling it open all the way, Jack stopping just outside the door, looking between you and Luke in surprise. “Oh and wear something comfy.” He adds, nodding hello to his older brother as he fiddles with the long messy curls falling in his face. 

“He has a lot of energy.” Jack notes, stepping forwards to lean against your doorframe. 

“He’s excited.” You say with a shrug, slipping out of the bed and adjusting your pyjama bottoms which had ridden up over the night. 

“Listen, I think we should talk.” 

“Can we do it later? I have a feeling if I’m not ready in fifteen minutes Luke is gonna drag me on this date in my pyjamas.” You joke risking a glimpse at Jack’s face, expecting there to be a light smile but met with a blank expression. 

“Yeah.” He says quickly, clearing his throat. “Yeah whatever time suits you.” Jack says snapping out of his daze as he shoots you a quick smile, clapping his hand against the door frame before walking the rest of the way down the hall to his bedroom - the sound of the door closing echoing through the house. 

You can’t help the shiver of nerves at Jack's sudden shift; maybe Luke was right. 

"Fifteen minutes, princess!” Luke’s voice rings from this bedroom down the hall, and you huff out a breath, rolling your eyes. Luke’s enthusiasm for this date was charming in its own right, and for now, you'd focus on that. 

You dress quickly, pulling on a white thin sweater and some muted green overalls with your favourite broken in and worn down white converses as you gather a small cross body bag with the essentials. 

“I’m coming.” You hiss and Luke stops outside your door, pointedly looking down at the watch on his wrist. You pull your hair into a ponytail, the loose pieces at the front unable to be contained by the hair tie. Luke has on a simple pair of black shorts, with a washed out blue concert tee - his hair freshly washed and dried, and also possibly brushed, which was rare for the younger brother. He sports his own white converse - quick to point out the unintentional matching. 

“We’d just make the cutest couple, wouldn’t we?” He sing songs to Quinn who slides a plate of freshly cut fruit over to you as you take a seat at the counter - thanking the oldest as you dig into the juicy red apple slices. 

“He’s got a lot of energy.” Quinn notes, the deja vu slapping your across the face. 

“He’s excited.” You agree the encounter mimicking your earlier run in with Jack. 

“So what’s your plan for today?” Quinn questions Luke, watching his younger brother shove gatorade bottles and packets of chips into a small backpack. 

“Why? Trying to keep your enemies close?” Luke chides, slinging the mini black bag over his shoulder - the item looking smaller then before against his broad back. “We may or may not be going to one of her favourite places.” Luke hints, your eyes lighting up as Quinn looks over to you in confusion. 

“There’s a fair nearby?” You question, Luke nodding his head as he grabs an apple from the fruit bowl taking a large bite from it. “Since when? How did I not know about this.” 

“Wait, didn’t your friends from u-mich invite you to hang out with them there?” Quinn questions, a teasing smirk on his face as a frown grows on yours. 

“So you’re using this date as an excuse to hang out with your friends?” You ask Luke, his head shaking quickly as he bends down his mouth just besides your ear. 

“No I’m using it as an excuse to show you off to my friends.” He corrects, a shit eating grin on his face as he ushers you off the bar stool and towards the front door. “We’ll see you later tonight.” He bid farewell to his older brother before slamming the door closed. 

“C’mon we have a one hour drive ahead of us.” Luke says, his hand reaching for yours for what would be the first time of many throughout your date. 

+

+

The one-hour drive feels like minutes, and before you know it, you’re pulling into the makeshift parking lot beside the fairgrounds. The scent of fried dough, popcorn, and fresh-cut grass wafts through the open window, instantly transporting you to childhood summers. The sound of laughter, carnival games, and the occasional squeal from the rides fills the air.

Luke parks the car and hops out, circling around to open your door before you can even unbuckle your seatbelt.

“What a gentleman,” you tease, stepping out and adjusting the strap of your crossbody bag.

“Only the best for my date,” Luke retorts with a wink, grabbing your hand again.

The fair is bustling with people, families with kids in tow, couples hand-in-hand, and groups of teenagers excitedly darting between rides. Luke leads you through the crowd, his fingers laced securely with yours, making sure you don’t get separated.

“Where to first?” he asks, stopping in the middle of the main walkway. His eyes gleam with excitement as he scans the colorful booths and towering rides.

“I don’t know... you’re the one who planned this, remember?” you tease, nudging him with your shoulder.

“Right, but it’s all about what you want,” he insists, gesturing dramatically to the array of options. “Games? Rides? Food? Name it.”Your eyes land on a giant Ferris wheel at the far end of the fairgrounds, its lights twinkling even in the daylight. 

“That,” you say, pointing to it. 

“The Ferris wheel? Starting strong, I like it.” Luke grins and starts leading you toward it, but not before pulling you to a halt at a booth along the way.

“Hold up,” he says, eyeing the rows of oversized stuffed animals dangling above a ring-toss game. “I’ve got to win you something first. It’s tradition.”

“Tradition?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Yup. No fair date is complete without a ridiculously large stuffed animal you have no idea where to put later,” he says with a smirk, handing a few bills to the booth operator.

Luke’s competitive streak comes out in full force as he lines up his shots, determination etched into his face. The first two tosses miss, and you try to hide your giggles behind your hand.

“Oh, laugh it up,” he says, narrowing his eyes playfully. “I’m just warming up.”

The third ring lands perfectly around the target, and Luke lets out a victorious shout, throwing his hands in the air. The booth operator hands him a stuffed bear almost as big as you are, and he turns to you with a proud grin.

“For you,” he declares, presenting it with a flourish.

You laugh as you take it, hugging the soft toy close. “This is so impractical, but thank you.”

“Impractical? No way. It’s the ultimate prize,” Luke insists, leaning down to whisper, “Besides, it’s my excuse to keep carrying stuff for you all day.”

“Smooth,” you say with a grin, letting him take the bear back as you head toward the Ferris wheel, your hand slipping into his again.

As you step into the Ferris wheel carriage, the world below begins to shrink, and the view stretches out for miles. Luke sits close beside you, his knee brushing against yours as the carriage rocks gently.

“Okay, you were right,” he says, looking out at the sprawling fairgrounds and the sun painting the horizon in shades of gold. “This was the perfect first stop.”

You glance over at him, catching the soft, thoughtful expression on his face. “You’re full of surprises, Hughes.”

The Ferris wheel slows to a stop at the very top, giving you a moment of stillness high above the fairgrounds which is becoming increasingly busy as time seems to pause. 

“Pretty great view, huh?” Luke says, his voice quieter now, almost reverent.

“Yeah,” you agree, though your eyes aren’t on the horizon. Instead, they linger on the way the rays of sunlight catch the edges of Luke’s face, softening his features.

He turns to catch you staring, and a slow, teasing grin spreads across his face. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” you say quickly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “I just—yeah, it’s a good view.”

Luke’s grin softens into something gentler as he leans back against the carriage, letting the quiet between you stretch comfortably. The Ferris wheel starts to move again, and he shifts closer, his arm brushing against yours.

By the time the two of you reach the ground the fair has hit peak chaos - hundreds of people filling the walkways, your new bear tight in one arm, Luke’s hand gripping your free hand as he leads the way through the crowds, his oversized frame making it easy for him to pull the two of you between the masses of people. 

“Alright, it’s time for the most important part of any fair experience: food,” he announces, his enthusiasm infectious.

“Let me guess—corn dogs and funnel cake?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Obviously,” Luke says, feigning offence. “But also, those giant turkey legs and deep-fried... well, anything.” You laugh, letting him pull you toward a stand where the smell of fried batter and powdered sugar makes your mouth water. Luke insists on ordering for both of you, and soon your hands are full of hot, sugary funnel cake and a comically oversized lemonade.

The two of you find a spot on a bench near the carousel, sharing bites of the funnel cake and laughing at the powdered sugar that inevitably ends up on your face—and his shirt.

“You’ve got some...” Luke gestures vaguely toward your chin. 

“Where?” you ask, swiping at your face with a napkin.

“Nope, you missed it,” he says, reaching out to brush the spot away with his thumb. The simple touch sends a warm flutter through your chest, and for a moment, the chaos of the fair fades into the background.

“Thanks,” you murmur, your eyes meeting his.

“Anytime,” he replies, his gaze lingering just a little longer than usual.

“So what happened to your friends? Are they not meeting you here?” You question, clearing your throat as the two of your break eye contact, your focus going back down to the funnel cake in front of you. Luke also clearing his throat as he pulls his hands off the table where they were resting to pull his phone out of his back pocket. 

“I’m not sure, they’re somewhere around here.” He says, tucking his phone back into his pocket, digging his fork into the remaining food in front of you taking a bite as you tilt your head in confusion. 

“I thought you wanted to see your friends?” You ask, your eyebrows furrowing deeper as Luke lets out a long sigh. 

“I do.” He admits, whispering something inaudible under his breath, his eyes still turned towards the table. 

“What was that? I didn’t quite catch it.” You joke. 

“I said, I’d rather spend today with you.” He repeats himself, his shoulders sagging a little almost in relief as the words leave his mouth - his eyes finally lifting to yours as he leans back on the picnic bench. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay?” He questions your head nodding quickly. 

“I like spending time with you too, Luke.” You admit, smiling at the surprised grin that spreads on Luke’s face. 

“That’s good.” He says feigning nonchalance. 

“Yeah, you’re like my best guy friend.” You tease, watching Luke’s face drop a little, the infamous Hughes pout spreading across his lips. 

“Great, this is great.” He groans, running his hand down his face in despair. His head dropping against the table as you let out a snort of laughter, sliding out from your seat, making sure to grab the arm of your oversized bear before making your way over to his side. 

“I’m kidding, Luke.” You whisper, as you perch one knee on the bench besides him, leaning forwards to press a soft kiss against his cheek, jumping back as he flings himself from his hunched position. “Are we gonna continue this date or not?” You smile, as Luke nods his head, sliding out of his seat, and reaching his hand behind him as he waits for you to follow after him. His fingers squeezing yours tight as you slide your palm into his. 

Your day seems to fly by as the hot summer sun slowly descends in the sky, your arms now filled with your giant bear and a more modest sized unicorn that had taken Luke six attempts to win from the basketball game. “You’re looking a little tired.” Luke notes as you make your way down the significantly emptier main walkway. “Do you want to start heading home?” 

“I just need to use the bathroom.” You respond, pausing your steps as you catch sight of the bathroom sign, Luke quickly pulling the stuffed animals from your arms motioning for you to go ahead. 

“I’ll wait right here.” He says the sound of his voice being called hitting you as you walk into the restroom. You make quick work of your business after waiting in line for ten minutes, trying to push your way out of the bathroom without touching any of the admittedly dirty walls. 

Luke is exactly where you left him, talking animatedly with who you quickly realise must be the friends he had avoided meeting up with all day so he could spend the day with you. You take a few steps forwards before deciding to hover back a little bit, letting the friends catch up without the interruption of a stranger. Pulling your phone out of your bag to check the notifications you had ignored for most of the day. 

Jack 😈: let me know when you guys are heading home. 

Jack 😈: I hope you had a lot of fun on your date

Jack 😈: I’m sorry if I made things weird between us. 

Quinnifer 😇 : I think you broke my brother. 

“Hey, what are you doing over there?” Your head pops up at the sound of Luke’s voice, the sight of the group now turned towards you making your eyes bulge a little. 

“Just catching up on my messages.” You say quickly, awkwardly showing your phone to the group, hoping it was enough to dismiss the attention. You watch as Luke’s friends nod to you in acknowledgement before turning to talk to each other in hushed whispers, the words obviously pleasing Luke as his boyish grin lights up his face. 

His eyes make contact with yours, his head motioning for you to come over and join him, his hand reaching out towards you, making quick grabby motions similar to that of a toddler as he waits for you to take his hand. You feel his body relax as you slip your hand into his, his arm pulling you close to his side as his raises your joined hands to press a soft kiss to your knuckles, your heart speeding up to a hundred miles an hour as you glance up at him in surprise. 

“It was good seeing you guys, we need to do a lake trip soon.” Luke interjects, wrapping up to conversation efficiently as he quickly bids his friends farewell, making promises to hang out soon, as the two of you slowly wander away from the group of college students.  

As you settle into the car for the ride home, Luke glances over at you, his expression soft and a little shy. “So... was this a good first date?”

You smile, leaning your head against the window. “It was perfect.”Luke grins, reaching over to place his hand gently against your thigh, his hand remaining there for the whole trip home, his thumb rubbing soft circles against your skin. 

+

+

 Luke parks the car and turns off the engine. For a moment, the two of you sit in comfortable silence, the air filled with a warm contentment that neither of you seems in a rush to break. His hand lingers on your thigh, the steady pressure a grounding reminder of his presence.

Finally, Luke looks over at you with a playful smirk. “You’re not going to make me walk you to your door like a proper gentleman, are you?”

You chuckle, undoing your seatbelt. “Well, you did just earn some serious points tonight. But sure, let’s see how gentlemanly you can be.”

He shakes his head, pretending to be exasperated, but he’s out of the car in an instant, jogging around to your side to open the door for you. He extends a hand with an exaggerated flourish. “M’lady.”

You take his hand, laughing as he helps you out of the car. The cool night air brushes against your skin, and you instinctively lean closer to him as you walk up to the door. His arm slips around your waist, holding you close as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

When you reach your doorstep, you turn to face him, surprised as he doesn’t slow down, opening the front door and ushering you inside. 

“Where are you going?” You ask, Luke turning back to look at you with a smirk. 

“This is the door, but not your door.” He responds, your brain catching up quickly as you close the front door softly before following him up the stairs until the two of you stop outside your bedroom door, your heart fluttering as you meet his gaze. His boyish grin is back, but there’s a hint of nervousness in his eyes now. He rubs the back of his neck, glancing down for a moment before looking at you again.

“So… I had a really good time today,” he says, his voice softer now, more vulnerable.

“Me too,” you reply, your voice matching his quiet tone. “Thank you for making it so special.”

He takes a small step closer, his free hand reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. “I’m glad. I wanted it to be… I don’t know, just right.”

“It was,” you assure him, your heart racing as the space between you shrinks. Lukes hand slowly cupping the side of your face, searching for any signs of resistance before he leans down, pressing his lips firmly against yours, your own hands grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, as you lift to your tippy toes pulling yourself tight against him. 

His free hand raising to grab hold of your door handle, as he twists it open, slowly walking the two of you inside your bedroom, kicking the door closed with his foot. Both of Lukes hands are gentle against your jaw as you pull away from him, his eyes meeting yours as you chew on your bottom lip. 

“Is this too much?” He asks gently, his thumbs rubbing softly against your cheeks, his breathing heavy as he waits for you to respond. 

“Is this not kinda of crossing the line? I mean I know we didn’t set any rules for the competition but do you not feel weird that I’ve kissed you and your brother?” You explain, grimacing as you speak the situation out loud. 

“Do you want to kiss me?” Luke asks slowly, ignoring the rest of your statement, his eyes searching yours as you nod slowly - unable to miss the way Luke grins as he mumbles, “Then fuck the competition.” Luke doesn’t waste time in reconnecting your lips, his hands firm on your hips as he walks to two of you back towards your bed, perching himself on the edge. 

Luke’s lips leave yours for no more than ten seconds, ripping his shirt over his head as his hands tug your body onto his lap, your legs straddling him as he shoots you a quick grin, before leaning up to catch your lips again. Your body melts against him your hands rake up his arms, Luke letting out a small shiver as they tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you. 

You’re both starved for each other, taking the time to melt your bodies together as Luke lies back on the mattress pulling you down with him, his fingers digging into the plush flesh of your thighs, before moving higher up your body. 

“Why’d you have to wear fucking overalls?” He grimaces as you sit back against his pelvis, your hands briefly bracing against his bare abdomen the muscles tensing under your touch before reaching up to undo the two buttons holding up the top of the overalls letting the top fall off your shoulders. Luke lets out a shaky breath as he reaches forwards griping the hem of your sweater waiting for your small nod before pulling it up and over your head. 

“I wasn’t really going for aesthetic when I got dressed this morning.” You admit, glancing down at the black sports bra with a frown, your overalls bunching at your hips as you glance down at Luke, still sprawled on your mattress glancing up at you with a sparkle in his eyes.  

“I’ve never been one for aesthetics.” He says quietly, his hands running up the skin on your sides, goosebumps blossoming on your skin as he pauses as the clasps on your sports bra, a knock sounding through the room. 

“Are you in there?” You just manage to catch as your head spins towards the door, the clear shadowing seeping under the door, Jack’s voice slicing through the tension in the room. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Luke growls, his hands sliding back down to your hips to hold you steady as he sits up from his spot on the mattress, his arms wrapping around your waist as your turn your head back to him in panic. Luke leans forwards, skin pressing against skin as he steals one, two, three more kisses before pushing himself off the mattress, your legs wrapped around his hips, Luke slowly letting you place your feet back to the ground. 

“Don’t panic.” Luke whispers, his forehead pressing to yours. “He probably just wants to talk to you about your date last night.” Luke reminds you, pressing one more sweet kiss to your nose before stepping away from you, picking your sweater up off the floor and handing it to you to put on. 

“I’ll come back later.” Luke reassures you, grabbing his own shirt off the floor before moving towards your bedroom door, pulling it open and sending his surprised older brother a glare. “Don’t say anything stupid.” Luke warns his brother before padding down the hallway to his own room. 

Jack glances over at you in surprise, his expression almost an exact mirror of this morning when Luke left your room. “I have a feeling I interrupted something.” Jack notes your arms crossing over your chest as you choose not to respond. 

“I just wanted to apologise for last night and thought that maybe the kiss made things weird between us but…” Jack pauses, glancing back in the direction his brother just went before looking back at you, his expression shifting from soft confusion to simmering anger, “Clearly the kiss wasn’t the problem.” 

“What are you saying, Jack?” 

“I’m just saying I thought maybe I crossed a line by kissing you but obviously that line doesn’t exist with you.” Jack reiterates, his words making you lift your eyebrows in surprise. 

“You were right, Jack. The kiss wasn’t the problem.” You begin, opening to your mouth to continue explaining but pausing as you watch Jack take a step backwards, his head nodding as he frowns. 

“No don’t bother - I understand now.” He says quickly, escaping down the hallway to his room slamming the door harshly the sounding ringing through the house. 

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part 12

Pairings: Bucky x Reader (eventually lol)

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: None,

A/N: Okay this is kinda like a filler i guess! I have some juicy stuff coming up!! Some more angst and drammmmaaaaa 🫶🏻 (bucky and dean meeting 🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪)

Masterpost

Steve waited outside the door for a moment, his hand resting lightly on the frame. He could hear your pacing, the soft thud of your footsteps moving back and forth. He let out a quiet sigh, his chest tightening at the sound of your frustration, your hurt.

“Take your time,” he said again, his voice gentle, barely above a whisper. He didn’t move, didn’t leave. He just stood there, a silent presence, ready for when you were.

Inside, you finally stopped pacing and sat heavily on the edge of the bed, your hands gripping the edge of the mattress. The weight of the fight with Natasha pressed down on you, and for a moment, you let your head fall into your hands.

Natasha wasn’t just any friend. She was your person, the one who always had your back, who could cut through your bullshit with a single look. The fact that the two of you were at such odds now felt like a sharp crack in your foundation. You’d fought before, sure, but never like this—never with such finality in her tone.

“When did everything get so wrong?” you muttered to yourself, your voice barely audible.

The knock on the door came again, softer this time. “It’s me,” Steve said quietly. “Can I come in?”

You hesitated, your throat tightening. “Yeah.”

The door opened slowly, and Steve stepped inside, closing it gently behind him. He didn’t speak right away, just took a seat on the chair across from the bed, giving you space. His blue eyes searched your face, taking in every detail—the way your shoulders slumped, the way your fingers nervously twisted together in your lap.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked after a moment, his voice steady but soft.

You shook your head, letting out a bitter laugh. “What’s there to talk about? I’ve managed to piss off my best friend. Bucky probably hates me too. Everything feels like it’s falling apart, and I don’t even know how we got here.”

Steve’s brows knit together, his voice calm. “Nat doesn’t hate you. She’s just… worried. And Bucky—” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “He doesn’t hate you either, he never would… If anything, he’s probably hating himself right now.”

You scoffed, your eyes stinging. “Yeah, well, I’m tired of feeling like I have to defend him to everyone…. Like I’m the only one who gets it.”

Steve leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “That’s because you do get it. You’ve known him your whole life. You’ve seen sides of him that the rest of us haven’t. But that doesn’t mean you have to carry this all on your own… y’know Buck would never ask you to defend him”

You met his gaze,”I know but its him…” your throat tightening. “It feels like I’m losing everyone, Stevie. First Bucky, now Nat…”

Steve’s eyes softened, and for a moment, he hesitated, as if debating whether or not to say what was on his mind. Finally, he spoke, his voice low but firm. “You’re not losing me.”

Your eyes flickered with emotion, but you quickly looked away, trying to keep your composure. “Thank you…,” you murmured. “But sometimes it feels like I’m losing myself.”

Steve stood, crossing the small space between you. He didn’t sit down beside you, didn’t invade your space, but he crouched down in front of you, his hands resting lightly on his thighs. “Hey,” he said, his voice grounding. “You’re still you. You’re still the same strong, stubborn, caring person who holds this group together. And yeah, things are messy right now, but it doesn’t mean they’re broken beyond repair.”

You blinked down at him, his words sinking in. There was something so steady, so unwavering about Steve. He always seemed to know exactly what to say, even when you didn’t want to hear it.

“I just wish I could fix everything,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Steve gave you a small, sad smile. “You don’t have to fix everything. Sometimes, you just have to let things settle. Nat will come around. And Bucky… well, he needs to figure some things out, but he’ll come back too. He always does.”

You nodded, though the weight in your chest didn’t fully lift. “It doesn’t feel that simple.”

“It never does,” Steve agreed. “But you don’t have to go through this alone even if it doesn’t always feel that way.”

You offered a weak smile, your voice soft. “Always the voice of reason.”

Steve hesitated slightly, his expression was thoughtful, his voice measured. “Maybe,” he said carefully, “a little space isn’t the worst thing right now.”

You frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “You, Bucky, Nat… you’ve been attached at the hip since forever. That kind of closeness? It’s bound to lead to clashes eventually. Sometimes, a break can help. Give everyone time to cool off, get some perspective.”

You nodded slowly, his words sinking in. “Yeah,” you said, sighing. “Maybe you’re right.”

Steve smiled softly. “Of course I’m right.”

You chuckled, the tension in your shoulders easing just a little. “Thanks, Steve. For always being there. You’re like… my rock, you know? I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Steve’s smile faltered for a brief second, but he quickly masked it with a nod. “That’s what I’m here for.”

You didn’t notice the flicker of emotion that passed through his eyes as you continued, your tone warm. “You’re such a great friend. I don’t say it enough, but I’m really lucky to have you.”

Steve’s heart clenched. Every time. Every single time he felt like he might be getting somewhere, like he was more than just your safety net, the friend you could always lean on, you reminded him exactly where he stood. The word friend hit harder than it should have, even though he’d heard it a thousand times.

He forced a small smile, even as his thoughts churned. Of course she doesn’t see you that way. Why would she? She’s got Bucky. She’s always had Bucky. No matter how much he wanted to be the one you turned to, the one you chose, it was always him playing the role of the supportive friend. And he would. He always would. Because he’d rather be your friend than nothing at all.

Steve’s hand drifted to his pocket, where the locket he’d bought at the farmers market 2 months rested. He’d been carrying it around for weeks, waiting for the right moment. Maybe now, after everything, was the time. Maybe if you saw how much he cared, really saw it, things could be different.

But before he could pull it out, your stomach grumbled loudly, breaking the quiet. You blinked in surprise, then burst into laughter, the sound filling the room and easing some of the lingering tension.

“Guess my body’s trying to tell me something,” you said, grinning. You glanced at Steve, your eyes sparkling with amusement. “You wouldn’t want to get solo brunch with little ol’ me, would you, Stevie?”

Steve’s heart twisted, but he pushed the feeling aside, letting a warm smile spread across his face. He slid his hand out of his pocket, leaving the locket where it was. “I’d go anywhere with you,” he said softly, his voice carrying a depth you didn’t quite catch. “Just say the word.”

You grinned, standing up and grabbing your coat. “Well, then. Let’s go. I’m thinking pancakes.”

“Pancakes it is,” Steve said, following you toward the door.

As you stepped out into the cool morning air, Steve tucked the locket away for another day, keeping it close to his heart. He could wait a little longer. For now, being by your side was enough.

Before

It was a warm, golden afternoon, the kind that felt endless. The group had gathered at the park, their favorite spot back in college. The sun filtered through the trees, casting dappled light over the picnic blanket sprawled across the grass. Laughter echoed as everyone passed around snacks, drinks, and half-hearted attempts at playing cards.

Natasha sat beside you, leaning back on her hands, her red hair catching the sunlight. She nudged you with her elbow, grinning. “Okay, I need to know—are you seriously not going to shoot your shot with Bucky?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Nat, please. Not this again.”

Natasha laughed, throwing her head back. “What? I’m just saying! He looks at you like you hung the damn stars, and you’re over here acting like you don’t notice.”

Your cheeks flushed as you glanced toward Bucky. He was a few feet away, wrestling Sam for control of the frisbee while Steve cheered them on. His laughter was loud, unrestrained, and it sent a familiar warmth curling in your chest.

“It’s not like that,” you mumbled, picking at the edge of the blanket.

Natasha rolled her eyes, leaning in closer. “Sure, it’s not. And I’m totally not sitting here rooting for my two favorite idiots to get their act together.”

“Nat…” you warned, but she just smirked, unbothered.

She sat up straighter, her tone softening. “Look, I get it. It’s scary. But if anyone deserves a shot at something real, it’s you. And if he doesn’t see that? He’s even more of an idiot than I thought.”

You gave her a small smile, her words settling over you like a warm blanket. Natasha had always been your fiercest supporter, the one who never let you doubt your worth. She believed in you, even when you couldn’t quite believe in yourself.

Before you could respond, Wanda plopped down on your other side, holding out a bag of chips. “Okay, but am I the only one who thinks Steve’s got a little crush on you?”

Natasha groaned dramatically, flopping onto her back. “Wanda, please. One love triangle at a time.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Steve and I are just friends. He’s practically a saint. No way he’d put up with my chaos.”

Wanda shrugged, munching on a chip. “I’m just saying. You’ve got options.”

Natasha sat up again, shooting Wanda a playful glare. “Stop confusing her. She’s got enough on her plate.”

Across the way, Bucky finally wrestled the frisbee from Sam and jogged over, a triumphant grin on his face. He tossed it toward Steve, who caught it easily, then flopped onto the blanket beside you, his arm brushing yours.

“You missed my epic victory,” he said, his blue eyes sparkling.

“Oh, I saw,” you replied, grinning. “Very impressive.”

Bucky leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Don’t tell Sam, but I think he let me win.”

Natasha snorted, giving you a knowing look, but thankfully she kept her mouth shut.

The afternoon stretched on in a blur of laughter and easy conversation. The group settled comfortably into their usual rhythm—Sam was in the middle of telling an exaggerated story about his latest gym mishap, complete with wild hand gestures, while Steve shook his head, muttering, “That’s not how it happened.”

Natasha leaned into you, her shoulder brushing against yours. “Did you catch that?” she whispered, nodding toward Bucky, who was currently sprawled out on the blanket, his eyes fixed on you even as he pretended to be listening to Sam.

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool. “He’s probably just zoning out,” you said, keeping your tone light. But your heart fluttered all the same.

Natasha smirked, undeterred. “Oh, sure. Totally normal to ‘zone out’ while staring at someone like they’re the only person in the world.”

“Nat,” you hissed, nudging her. “Stop it.”

She held up her hands in mock surrender, her grin widening. “Hey, I’m just calling it like I see it. And I see a man who’s absolutely whipped.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your cheeks warming. “You’re delusional.”

“Am I, though?” she shot back, raising an eyebrow. “Because last I checked, you’ve been sneaking glances at him all afternoon.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could, Sam called out, “Hey, Bucky! You planning to help me win this argument or just stare at her all day?”

Bucky’s head snapped up, his face instantly flushing. “Shut up, Wilson,” he muttered, chucking a crumpled napkin in Sam’s direction.

The group burst into laughter, and you buried your face in your hands, groaning. Natasha, of course, was having the time of her life.

“See?” she said, leaning in again. “I’m not the only one who notices.”

You peeked at Bucky through your fingers, catching the way he ran a hand through his hair, avoiding everyone’s gaze. It was almost endearing, how flustered he looked. Almost.

Natasha gave you a gentle nudge. “You know, if you two ever stop dancing around each other, I might actually die of happiness.”

“Noted,” you said dryly, though you couldn’t keep the small smile off your face.

A little while later, as the sun dipped lower in the sky, Bucky wandered over to the cooler and pulled out a bottle of water. He walked back toward you, holding it out.

“Here,” he said, his voice softer, his eyes meeting yours. “You’ve been out here all day. Don’t want you passing out on us.”

You took the bottle, your fingers brushing his for a split second. “Thanks,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended.

Natasha, who had been watching the whole exchange like a hawk, leaned in close again once Bucky returned to his spot. “Yup,” she whispered. “Totally whipped.”

“Nat!” you whispered back, trying not to laugh.

The banter carried on as the day stretched into evening, the golden light casting everything in a warm glow. Natasha’s playful commentary, Bucky’s lingering glances, and the easy laughter of your friends—it all felt like a perfect snapshot of a simpler time, one you wished you could hold onto forever.

Later, as the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, Natasha grabbed your hand and pulled you aside while the others packed up.

“Promise me something,” she said, her tone unusually serious.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What is it?”

“Promise me that no matter what happens, you’ll go after what makes you happy,” she said. “Even if it’s scary. Even if it feels impossible.”

You nodded, squeezing her hand. “I promise.”

Natasha smiled, her eyes soft. “Good. Because you deserve the world, and I’ll be damned if I let you settle for anything less.”

The group slowly packed up, laughter still echoing in the warm summer air. Sam was balancing an empty soda can on his head, much to Steve’s disapproval, while Wanda and Bucky bickered over who was responsible for forgetting the sandwiches.

Natasha gave you a final nudge as you walked back toward the cars. “Remember what I said,” she murmured, her voice just loud enough for you to hear. “Don’t wait too long.”

You glanced at her, a playful smirk tugging at your lips despite the weight of her words. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

“Damn right,” she said with a wink, looping her arm through yours as you caught up with the others.

When you reached the parking lot, Steve and Sam were already arguing about who would drive. “You almost hit a mailbox last time,” Steve was saying, arms crossed.

“That was one time!” Sam protested, throwing his hands in the air. “And it was barely a scratch.”

“Barely a—” Steve cut himself off, glancing at you and Natasha as you approached. “Can we get a neutral party here?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Neutral? You’ve got the wrong girl.” She patted Steve’s shoulder. “But you’re probably safer behind the wheel.”

Sam groaned, muttering under his breath as he tossed Steve the keys. “Fine. But if we hit traffic, I’m picking the music.”

“You always pick the music, Sam,” Wanda said, sliding into the backseat.

Bucky hung back with you, his hands shoved into his pockets as everyone else climbed into the car. “Guess we’re stuck with Stevie’s Sunday driving,” he joked, his voice light.

“Could be worse,” you replied, nudging him gently. “Could be you driving.”

Bucky feigned offense, his hand over his heart. “Wow. No faith in me at all.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you both walked toward the car. But as you reached for the door handle, Bucky hesitated, his expression softening.

“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice almost lost in the noise of the others. “I’m glad you came today.”

The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. Finally, you smiled, your heart skipping a beat. “Me too.”

Before the moment could linger, Sam yelled from inside the car. “Come on, lovebirds! Some of us are hungry.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, opening the door for you with an exaggerated flourish. “After you, Your Highness.”

You laughed, sliding into the seat. “Thanks, Barnes.”

As he climbed in beside you, the car roared to life, Sam already flipping through his playlist as Steve muttered something about keeping his eyes on the road.

Wanda hurried down the steps of Steve and Sam’s building, her heart racing. She had barely reached the sidewalk when she spotted Natasha a few feet away, pacing like a caged animal. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her jaw clenched, and her face a storm of emotions.

“Natasha!” Wanda called out, quickening her pace to catch up. “What the heck was that?” Her voice was light but concerned, trying to gauge the situation without setting Nat off further.

Natasha stopped pacing, turning sharply toward Wanda. Her eyes blazed with frustration. “What was that? That was me finally losing my mind!”

Wanda blinked, surprised at her friend’s raw anger. “Okay, calm down. What happened back there?”

Natasha let out a bitter laugh, throwing her hands up. “What happened? What always happens! I’ve been on her side with Bucky for years, Wanda. Years! I’ve been the one in both of their ears, telling her to go for it, telling him to stop being a coward. And what’s changed? Nothing. They just keep dancing around each other like we’re still in high school.”

Wanda frowned, watching as Natasha resumed her pacing. “Nat…”

“No,” Natasha interrupted, her voice rising slightly. “I’m serious. I love them both, you know that. But she was my first friend here. My loyalty will always be with her, and I can’t keep watching her get hurt. It’s driving me insane, Wanda!” She stopped, facing her again. “And now? Now she finally agrees to go on a date with someone who isn’t Bucky, and what happens? He pulls this crap. Of course he does!”

Wanda crossed her arms, her voice calm but firm. “I get that you’re mad. But you’re letting it get to you, Nat. This isn’t just about you.”

Natasha sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “I know, but I can’t help it. We’re adults now, for God’s sake. This is some hogh school drama, and I just… I can’t anymore. They’re wasting so much time.”

Wanda stepped closer, her voice gentle. “I get it. But at the end of the day, it’s not our fight. We can be there for them, listen, support, but we can’t force them to do anything. It’s their mess to figure out.”

Natasha nodded reluctantly, rubbing her temples. “I know you’re right. It’s just hard. And now what do we do about Dean? I can’t believe this is how her first real date ended.”

Wanda gave her a sympathetic look. “We just keep being there for her. And maybe ease up on the pressure. Let her decide how to handle things in her own time.”

As they started walking toward their apartment, Wanda tried to shift the mood. “Come on, let’s get some food, maybe brunch wasn’t such a bad idea after all.”

They hadn’t made it halfway down the block when they spotted Sam leaving your and Bucky’s building. He looked up, surprised to see them. “What the hell?” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he approached. “I thought we were all getting lunch?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, her tone dry. “Let’s get lunch then.”

Sam glanced at Wanda, his brows raised in confusion. “Uh… okay? What did I miss?”

Wanda sighed, nodding for him to follow as they continued walking. “Nat and Y/N had a fight.”

Sam’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? We’re falling apart”

“Tell me about it,” Natasha muttered under her breath.

Sam quickened his pace to walk alongside them. “Alright, what happened?”

“She’s always defending Bucky, no matter how much of an ass he’s being,” Natasha snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface again. “I just can’t deal with it anymore.”

Sam raised his hands defensively. “Whoa, okay. Look, I just left Buck’s place, and yeah, I totally agree—telling her to leave was wrong. But for what it’s worth, he did try to go after her. He’s beating himself up about it.”

Natasha huffed, her anger still simmering. “That doesn’t change what he did.”

“I’m not saying it does,” Sam said, his voice steady. “But like we talked about, it’s 50/50, Nat. They’ve both been stuck in this cycle for years. He’s scared, she’s scared—it’s a mess.”

They reached the diner and slipped into a booth, the warm smell of coffee and pancakes wrapping around them. Once they’d ordered, Sam leaned forward, his tone more serious.

“Bucky told me his side,” he said. “He’s been trying to work up the courage to tell her how he feels for years. And every time he thinks he’s about to make a move, he freezes because he’s terrified of ruining what they have. And now? He’s convinced she doesn’t feel the same.”

Natasha frowned, crossing her arms. “That’s no excuse.”

“It’s not,” Sam agreed. “But it explains why he’s stuck. He told me last night that seeing her with Dean made him realize how much he’s screwed things up. He’s scared he’s already lost her.”

Wanda tilted her head, her voice soft. “It’s like we said—it’s their mess. We can’t fix it for them.”

Natasha sighed, leaning back in the booth. “Yeah, but watching them do this to each other? It’s exhausting.”

Sam nodded, his voice gentle. “I get it. But all we can do is be there for them. That’s what friends do.”

The conversation settled, and for a moment, the three of them sat quietly, the weight of their friendship—and its current fractures—hanging in the air.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Chapter 27

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Poorly written smut; lots and lots of pregnancy stuff (kinda gross toward the last)

A/N: We are now exiting my area of expertise with pregnancy. Google will be my friend. If I made mistakes, please just pretend I didn’t. lol

Opening your eyes, you had to immediately squint against the morning sun. It couldn’t be later than eight o’clock, give or take a few minutes. You were still in the same room Hershel had put you in two days ago, only allowed up to walk around, use the bathroom, and join for meals if you would like. Hershel had said you could still do light chores with no bending or reaching above your head, but Daryl had forbidden it without even saying a word. So, you mostly rested and focused on taking in enough water. Carl or Beth would bring each person’s bag so you could go through and inventory the contents, ensuring all the supplies were making it from each escape and taking note of any new supplies added. 

Stretching your legs, you winced at the ache in your pelvis. “Christ, Thumps. Why do you have to sit right on my bladder first thing in the morning?”

“S’prolly like a pillow.” 

You already wore a smirk when your head rolled toward the door, finding Daryl in the chair working on his crossbow. Did it really take that much upkeep? Or was he just that meticulous? Cradling your belly, you eased onto your side to face him, propping yourself on your elbow with your cheek on your palm. 

“Most women would find it creepy to wake up with a man watching them while tinkering with a weapon.” 

His hands kept moving but he looked up with a smirk of his own, a dark brow arched. “But not you?”

You shook your head against your hand, smiling gently. “Not me.” He laughed with a breath through his nose and refocused on what he was doing. You had to push yourself up on your arm and shimmy around a bit to get into an actual seated position. Your belly was warm and heavy against your upper thighs, a hand or foot pressing out next to your navel. You poked it and chuckled when it disappeared and popped right back out. “Good morning, baby.” 

In your peripheral, you could see Daryl had stilled, felt his eyes on you. He was watching the interaction in silence, as he usually did. Just as you watched his interactions without a word. You started to invite him over, but the baby shifted, the weight on your full bladder doubling and the discomfort growing tenfold. 

“Okay, time to pee. Like—yesterday.”

Your partner was already getting to his feet and standing next to the bed before you even maneuvered your way to the edge of the mattress. Daryl leaned forward for you to grab his biceps while his hands found purchase beneath your arms and pulled you the remainder of the way with what appeared to be little to no effort. Using the hold he still had on you, he lifted you straight up and let you find your footing. Your protruding stomach was pressed against him, immediately squashing any hope you had of stealing a kiss.

You looked up at him with a silly pout that instantly disappeared in the face of the tiny one-sided lift of his lips. He’d smiled at you before; hell, he’d even laughed at and with you. But this? This was the most peaceful, truest smile you had ever seen him wear. 

And then it was gone, replaced with a scowl that was half hearted at best. “What’s with the face?” 

“Nothing.” You brushed your fingers over his left temple at the same time that you felt his hands on either side of your belly. “As sweet as this moment is and as much as I love you, if we don’t get me somewhere to empty my bladder within the next two point three seconds—well, remember when I vomited on your boots?” 

“Gross.” Daryl’s lip curled. He knew where you were taking that implication and urged you toward the door with a hand on the small of your back. “Just walk. Or—waddle.” When you snapped your head around to gape at him, he was utterly stoic.

“I swear I’m gonna strap a watermelon to your stomach and we’ll see how sexy you can strut.”

The archer snorted, following you out the door.

You were impressed that you could still move as fast as you were, dodging and ducking, with Carol’s hand tight in one of yours. Your bag was on your shoulder, bouncing against your back, and your other hand braced the swell of your belly. The other woman was watchful, taking out anything that she knew you couldn’t get around. Daryl was at your heels, stabbing walkers that stumbled out from the sides.

“Get ‘er outta here, Carol!” He roared from behind you, sounding further away than you were entirely comfortable with, but he always said run, don’t look back. You had promised to listen to him. It’s how you kept the peace when you were just as stubborn as him. Each of you gave a little.

“I’m trying!” Carol hissed out through gritted teeth, letting go of your hand to push back a walker while she stabbed another. Your knife sheath was unsecured, the weapon easily accessible, but you had promised to only use it when absolutely necessary. The walker that Carol had shoved turned in a stagger that led it straight toward you. In your book, that qualified as necessary. You took it down with ease, unable to admit how good it felt to protect yourself because another took its place. And another. And another. “Go! Get to the truck!” 

You had the keys. Daryl always made sure you carried them now. You were perfectly capable of hot-wiring a vehicle but he didn’t want you wasting time. The two of you never discussed what would happen if he made it to the truck and you never did. He would never entertain the thought. Not for a moment. 

You gave Carol a look, one that said you knew you had to listen to her, to Daryl but that it was definitely not what you wanted to do. And then you ran, stabbing if needed, dodging when you could. There were so fucking many. You could hear the yells of the others making their way to the van, sending up a silent prayer that they all made it. Your lungs were on fire by the time you saw the truck. It should have been a straight shot but someone—who had yet to come clean because you were all running for your lives—had left the gate open and allowed the dead to fill the driveway.

You caught yourself against the cold metal passenger door, fumbling for the handle before jerking it open. You had lifted one foot into the cab when the door was forced inward, slamming it against the side of your head. With a shout, you pushed back, scrambling to get inside the truck while your ears rang and your vision blurred. How many head injuries were you going to rack up within a year? Hands were grabbing at you, pulling at your bag, your clothes, your hair. Finally, you were on the seat, holding the door tight while two arms and several hands kept you from closing it.

“Fuck!”

Their snarls and moans were so loud that you couldn’t hear anything beyond them and the steady knell in your ears. Hands hit the driver’s side window. More walkers. Daryl wasn’t there. Carol wasn’t there. You’d never be able to get across the seat to start the truck before at least one was in the cab with you, maybe more. 

But goddamnit, you had to try.  

It was the only option left. You had to save Thumper and that meant saving yourself. It was what Daryl made you promise.

Holding the door with one hand, you leaned and fumbled with the key against the ignition. “Come on!” After a few more tries, a few more agonizing seconds, the key slid home. “Yes!” You let the bag slide from your shoulder and to the floorboard. Turning yourself to put your feet against the door while still holding the handle was some seriously uncomfortable gymnastics shit but you didn’t hold the position long. Pushing against the door with your feet, you both propelled yourself toward the steering wheel and knocked back the walkers that had been blocking you. 

The seat was left between where it needed to be for you or Daryl to be able to drive. You could fix it later but you could fit well enough to get the fuck out of there. Turning the key, the engine barely started before you were throwing the shifter into drive. There were thumps that indicated a few had climbed into the bed but you could deal with that later. 

Mowing down walker after walker, you nearly sobbed when you saw the taillights of the van. The others had made it. Had everyone made it? Maybe Daryl and Carol were with them. It took only a few moments to get far enough away to stop. You pulled off the road, just behind the van, your passenger door hanging open. The truck rocked, reminding you that there were still the walkers in the bed, but as people filed out of the van, there was no Carol. No Daryl. 

And your world came to a screeching halt. “No.” You whispered against the hand you pressed to your mouth. Your other hand gripped the fabric of your coat over your stomach. Rick would never let the walkers get into the truck so you placed your head against the steering wheel and let the tears fall. How would you do this without Daryl? How could you live without him? The man you loved was gone and you knew in your heart of hearts that you needed to go back, face the herd, find him—along with Carol—and put them down. You wouldn’t leave them to walk. You couldn’t. You needed closure. A grave to visit if possible.

When the driver’s side door opened, you sobbed even harder, knowing Rick could never know how to comfort you. Your arms wrapped around your belly, your apologies to little Thumper for never being able to meet their father were choked down by each jerk of your shoulders, each wet breath. Distantly, inwardly, you hoped for a boy that you knew you would name DJ. You hoped he would be the spitting image of Daryl. 

“Christ, ya drive like a maniac. Ya hurt? Baby okay?”

You straightened so quickly that your belly bumped the steering wheel and you felt a twinge of pain in your back. Daryl—a little worse for wear—was standing at the door, staring at you like nothing had happened.

“Dar—how—” You sobbed.

“Jumped in the back ‘fore ya could peel outta there. Carol too.” He tilted his head and studied you, his eyes raking over you before stopping on the right side of your head. “Ya alright?” You didn’t even register his arm lifting, but then his calloused fingertips were touching a tender spot just behind your right temple. You hissed but that pain meant nothing. “Hey, talk to me.”

As quickly as you could manage with your rounded middle, you launched yourself at him, falling into his chest with his arms instantly encircling you beneath your own. He walked forward and pushed you back onto the seat for support and held you tight, his cheek against the top of your head.

“I thought you were dead, you absolute fucking asshole!”

A hand pressed against the back of your head, pulling you to rest against his collarbone. “M’right here. M’fine. Carol’s fine.” When he tried to push you back, you held on, digging your fingers into his back, taking fistfuls of his vest. “Want Hershel to look ya over, butcha gotta let go first.”

“No.” You stated bluntly.

He didn’t say anything for the longest time, simply letting you cling to him until your sobs had quieted to whimpers and hiccups, his large hands rubbing your back and cradling your head. “Alright. Least scoot over so I can drive. An’ ya gotta let ‘im take a look atcha when we get to wherever the fuck we’re going.”

With a sniff, you conceded, nodding against his chest. When you moved back across the seat, you kept a hand fisted in the front of his shirt until he climbed in after you. He was talking with Rick but you didn’t hear a word of it. Your forehead was pressed against the round of his shoulder, thigh against his, hands gripping the hem of his vest below the arm he had outstretched to the wheel. Your body rocked with his as he closed the door. He went still for a moment, likely examining how he was going to drive with you clinging to him like a fungus but not a word was said. You had never killed the engine, so he just shifted the gear and drove while you held onto him like a lifeline.

“Ssh. Gotta be qui—fuckin’ christ.”

You had purposefully clenched your walls around him while continuing the steady rocking of your hips. “Ssh,” you pressed a finger to your lips, “gotta be quiet, Daryl.” The scowl he gave you was impressive for a man teetering right on the edge of orgasm. You traced a line through the sheen of sweat on his chest, only stopping when you reached where your belly loomed over him. His fingers were digging into your thighs, moving up to your thickened waist to both guide and urge you. “I’m so close.”

Daryl only grunted, running a hand over your prominent belly and up to your breast, squeezing gently. You were still so sensitive—and sore—but with one flick of his thumb over your wet nipple, you crested, your palm swiftly covering your mouth to muffle your shout. He quickly let go of the soft mound of your chest to grab a thigh, digging blunt nails into your flesh as he followed you up, up, up with a series of heightened breaths, desperately keeping himself quiet as well.

Still panting, Daryl caught you by your bicep and rolled with you to lay you onto your side, slipping out of you in the process. You must have looked as dazed as you felt because he was brushing your sweaty mess of hair out of your face and narrowing his eyes. “Ya okay?”

“Mhm.” With a content sigh, you caught his hand and kissed his palm, smiling when he gave you that look as if he had no idea what to do next. “I love you.” His mouth twitched into a tiny smile, a hum vibrating behind his lips. He turned his hand to hold yours, placing them on the bed between you. He didn’t say it back but he didn’t need to; you knew. You knew about his dissent with emotions but he had said he loved you and you believed him. And that was that. “Let’s get cleaned up and go face the people we probably kept awake.” You chuckled.

He scoffed, throwing the blankets back from the bedroll as he sat up. The room was cold. There were even goosebumps on his skin where the air touched it, and that man was always hot. The house was more of a shack, one large room with the kitchen and a family area, one bedroom, and a bathroom. It was the third temporary safehouse in a week and a half. 

Daryl kept the truck close to the door now, as close as he could possibly get it. With you at around 38 weeks, he was taking no chances. Seriously. No chances. You had to pee? He was with you. He had to pee? You were with him. He was practically attached to your hip, but you were finding you didn’t feel crowded at all. You just couldn’t since the night you thought you’d lost him. 

The archer stood, pulling up his pants and underwear together, staring at the window as he buckled his belt. God, he was beautiful. The moonlight was bathing him just right. He didn’t look real. Licking your lips, you thought about asking him to get right back under the blankets but that train of thought derailed with the tightening of your abdomen. You made a noise of discomfort, even though this contraction didn’t hurt. It still wasn’t the best feeling in the world.

“What?” Daryl sniffed, looking down at you.

“Stupid fake contractions.” You grimaced, holding out a hand for something with which to clean yourself up. He was already on it, digging through the bag for the bra pads for you anyway. He tossed you one of his shirts, huffing a laugh when you regarded him with bewilderment. “Are we really going to have Carol washing jizz off one of your shirts? Oh my god, or Beth?! No! Give me something else!”

“Ain’t much else to use, Sunshine.” He tossed the bra pads at you but continued rifling through the bag. A box landed next to your hip which you recognized as squares of gauze. If it weren't for the fact that you not only needed to clean up the mess between your legs but the bedroll and blankets as well, you would have just thrown on your underwear and left it.

Daryl was buttoning his shirt and not really paying attention when you wiped through the sticky mess at your core, ready to open another square but then your hand was brought to a sudden halt. Along with your heart. 

“Daryl.” You knew there was fear in your voice, you couldn’t have hidden it if you tried. When you looked to him for reassurance, you found your expression mirrored.

“Hey, doc, get the fuck in here!” He bellowed, staring at the thick glob of red, white, and yellow on the white material. Everyone was asleep or had at least bedded down, so it would likely take a moment for anyone to appear in the doorway. Still, he moved fast, pulling the tank top he had tossed to you over your head. It had to be stretched over your belly and a portion of your breasts could be seen from the side but at least you were mostly covered since it was untelling how many would respond to his exclamation. 

“Daryl, it’s blood. I’m bleeding. Is this normal? Is something wrong?” You rambled, the hand holding the gauze shaking so fiercely that he was forced to take hold of your wrist to steady it.

“I dunno. Hershel can—he’ll look. S’gonna be okay.” On his knees beside you, he pulled you against him with his free arm, holding you so tightly that you just knew it was so you didn’t shatter. “Hershel!”

“What’s wrong?” Carol was the first in, wrapping her cardigan tightly around her, but Hershel was just behind her, wiping at his eyes.

“What on earth, son?”

“She’s bleedin’, she ain’t s’posed to bleed is she?” Now, you could feel Daryl shaking, even with his voice as steady as it was.

The others were filing into the room but Carol was on top of things, ushering them all right back out while the old man rolled up his sleeves.

“Carol, could you bring a couple more candles, please?” He asked, his tone so light that even you wanted to kick him. It was likely Daryl wanted to throw him out the window. “Let’s see what we have here.” Hershel picked up the one candle you and Daryl had lit and knelt down next to the bedroll, his knees cracking and popping. When he held his palm flat, you curled your lip, wishing gloves were something any of you had thought of on the runs. Daryl guided your hand with his hold on your wrist, keeping the gauze from flipping or spilling onto the man’s palm. “Hmm. Can you tell me what happened before this?”

You and Daryl turned beet red. There was obviously cum on the gauze as well.

“‘Sides the obvious?” The archer murmured.

“Okay, so sex.” Hershel nodded. Daryl blanched. “Anything else?”

You were suddenly blank, the fear gripping your heart so tightly that it was cutting off the circulation to your brain. How could he seem so calm about this?

“She had one’a them fake contractions.” Daryl supplied. If you weren’t a trembling wreck, you would have kissed him. 

Carol trotted back into the room with a candle in each hand, kneeling down next to the veterinarian. “Is that—?”

“I think so.”

You were looking back and forth between the two, still unable to find your voice. Once again, Daryl spoke for you. “Gonna make us guess?!” He snapped.

“Easy, Daryl.” Carol admonished, reaching a hand toward him but not touching.

“Don’t fuckin’ easy me! What the fuck is—”

“Calm down.” Hershel demanded in a no nonsense tone. You felt Daryl’s hold around your shoulders tighten. “I believe this is what is called the bloody show. Sometimes it just comes out on its own, but it can be triggered by intercourse. Now I have no way of knowing if the mucus plug has already passed and sadly, our woodland toilet would make it difficult to know anyway. It could actually be present in this. Regardless, that hardly matters.”

“M’gonna need some English an’ real fuckin’ quick, doc.”

“She’s fine, Daryl.” Carol soothed. “You know we wouldn’t say that if she weren’t.” The archer looked back and forth between the two again while you looked up at him. It took a long moment of uncomfortable silence but you felt the tension pressed against you loosen ever so slight. “Let him finish.”

Daryl gave a curt nod.

“This usually means the cervix is thinning and dilating; that the baby is nearly ready to be born. Now the contraction,” he continued while twisting to place the gauze somewhere behind him, “could have been Braxton Hicks, yes. It could have also been the real thing. Was it painful?”

You shook your head.

“They aren’t always in the beginning. According to my reading, some women are lucky enough to have very mild contractions all throughout labor and delivery.” He smiled, trying so hard to settle the unease eating its way through your sternum. “I’d like to examine you. Would you allow that?”

You nodded, feeling Daryl turn his head to see your permission with his own eyes.

“Okay, lie back please. Carol, I’ll need some water and soap please.” The woman was up and out the door before you could blink. “This will be just like the last one. Some mild discomfort but it shouldn’t be anything beyond that. Have you had any contractions since the last one?”

“No.” You sounded so small, even to your own ears.

“Okay, that’s good. We won’t rule anything out yet. Your water hasn’t broken, but I must warn you that it is possible I may accidentally cause that during the exam. If that happens, there’s no reason to be alarmed.” 

You were nodding, you felt yourself doing it but it didn’t feel like you were really there at all. The fear had won and you were falling victim to the panic stirring up within you, its tendrils snaking around your lungs, making it impossible to breathe. 

Then Daryl released your wrist and slipped his hand into yours.

He was listening carefully to Hershel, watching Carol return, but he was still attentive to what you needed at that moment as well. You felt the pressure in your chest recede, your lungs easily filling while your heartrate slowed. You were still scared. You still trembled, but so did he.

The vet had moved onto the bedroll but before he could do anything, Daryl was reaching down with a quick I got it and moving the blanket. His free hand was warm on your thigh, not removing it until you bent your knees and placed your feet flat. You watched the old man for a moment, suddenly self conscious when he stared impassively before his eyes flitted over to Daryl.

“Oh, uh—sorry for the—yeah.” The archer cleared his throat, his head ducking.

“Carol.” Hershel sighed. “If there are any runs to be made soon, please make sure gloves are mentioned as a necessity.” The other woman giggled behind her hand but quickly wiped it away and nodded. “Okay, here we go.”

It felt exactly as it had the first time, deeply uncomfortable and borderline painful at certain points, though this time you were able to remain still and silent. You chose to watch your partner as he eyed Hershel like a hawk, eyes squinted and focused. You squeezed his hand. Instantly, his attention was on you. His thumb swept back and forth over your knuckles, a grounding movement on which you could center yourself.

“Well.” Hershel had pulled his hand away and was washing up with the soap and water Carol had brought in for him. “You’re about 3cm, my dear. Now it’s anyone’s guess when your water will break or if it will at all. If not, I will likely need to intervene to speed things up but that’s down the road. Take it easy but walk around if you can. Drink lots of water, any extra that we can ration off for you. I’m sure others would be willing, myself included. Let me know of any contractions, even if they aren’t painful. We will need to start timing them. I can get Glenn to loan you the watch I gave to him, Daryl, but please don’t smash it.”

“Wait. That’s it?” You struggled to sit up until Daryl assisted you.

“That’s it. It’s a waiting game now.” Carol picked up what she could and promised to return for the rest, smiling at you before she left the room, likely to fill in the others. “But from the looks of things, your little Thumper will be making his or her debut in the very—and I mean very—near future.”

Both you and Daryl stared at the doorway long after it was empty. When you squeezed his hand, he squeezed back. And in unison, you both took a deep breath and uttered two words.

“Holy shit.”

[fxstpace]

“i’m outside your window.”

“wow. you’re so creepy.” you balance your phone on your shoulder and lift it up, pressing it to your ear so that you can finish folding your laundry. “did you watch twilight recently, or something?”

“no.” jake’s voice sounds tinny through your phone’s speaker. he huffs, and you can imagine the look of utter chagrin on his face. “...maybe. i mean, sunoo kinda forced me to, yaknow? he thinks it’s romantic or whatever.”

you snort, folding a t-shirt and placing it on your mattress. “i’m not surprised. are you actually outside my window or are you—”

a soft knock against your windowpane makes you still. there’s no way your boyfriend is actually outside your room, right? it’s dark and cold, and as much as you love jake sim, you don’t want him to catch a cold just because he wants to see you.

“you’ll never find out unless you open your curtains,” he says. “i love the colour, but i’d prefer seeing your face.”

“jake…” you trail off, walking over to your window and drawing the curtains. he’s there, leaning against the glass like this is some kind of real-life romcom. it’s chilly, but all he has on is a thin, striped jumper and a smile so wide, it makes his eyes crinkle by the corners. you put down your phone and wave at him.

he waves back. you undo the latch and open the windows. “hi,” he says cheerfully, as though this is normal. “i wasn’t lying.”

“oh, my god. that’s all you have to say?” 

jake shrugs. “i wanted to see you. i missed you a lot today. can i come in?”

“yeah.” you step aside, giving him space to climb through the open window. “careful, don’t trip.”

he clambers in, a little clumsily, because jake’s reflexes aren’t the best. he catches himself, though, and lands on the floor of your bedroom with a flourish. 

“wow,” he says, grinning at you, “it was cold outside.”

“idiot,” you scold him gently. “who told you to wait outside my bedroom window like some wannabe edward cullen in this weather?”

jake steps forward and plants his hands on either side of your face. his palms cup your cheeks—rough and calloused, but also incredibly cold to the touch. “mm, i don’t know. i really wanted to see you, that’s all.”

you soften. how could you not? you rub your own palms together to generate heat and place them over his. “your fingers are so cold,” you say. “what if you catch a fever?”

“warm me up, then,” he tells you, and kisses you—just once, softly.

the back of your neck prickles with heat. “don’t say weird things.”

“was i being weird?” jake asks, widening his eyes with fake innocence. “you’re the one assuming things.”

“what?” 

“i just wanted to hold you underneath your incredibly warm blanket.”

you pull away, embarrassed, but smile all the same. “i have to finish folding my clothes.”

“after that, then.”

“okay. i missed you too, you know.”

“aw. someone’s getting all soft on me.”

you throw your half-folded sweatshirt at him in response.

author’s note — let’s all collectively ignore that last line because it is so! anticlimactic! also this was kind of inspired by that one video where jake pokes his head out the window and waves at people during his prada shoot in milan :) thanks for reading 🤍

[ichorai]

cheesepie ; miles morales.

pairing ; miles morales x gn!reader

synopsis ; miles was the warm kind of nostalgia, like playing video games at three in the morning while whisper-yelling insults at each other, or dyeing each other’s hair horrendous bright colors in his tiny bathroom with cheap dye from the drugstore down the street, or standing on his apartment’s rooftop to stargaze the light-polluted sky of brooklyn.

words ; 3.1k

themes ; childhood friends to kinda-lovers, fluff, mild angst, slice of life

warnings / includes ; cursing, miles' parents are adorable and i love them, lots of playful banter, a bit emotional near the end, let's pretend miles still lives at home with his parents and not at the prep school

main masterlist.

The tip of Miles’ tongue poked slightly out of the corner of his mouth as he cocked his hand back, a grape pinched between his pointer finger and thumb. “Lean back a little,” he told you, narrowing his eyes in concentration.

You did as he asked, jaw wide open, prepared to catch. 

He took another moment to readjust, and you rolled your eyes. 

Right as he tossed the grape, you barked out in frustration, “Just throw it already!”

The cold fruit bounced right off the side of your lips and landed on the floor with a quiet thud. You blinked in shock. 

Miles glared at you.

Then he smiled. 

“You’re a lousy catcher,” he said, boyish peals of laughter echoing from his chest. With a sigh, he collapsed into his bed, crossing his legs and propping his head up with both his arms. 

“Maybe you’re just a lousy thrower,” you replied easily, slinking across the room to sink into the mattress beside him, mimicking his position. 

The two of you were far too large for his small bed—his long, gangly limbs awkwardly knocked against yours and you had to bump your hip into his to scooch him further to the edge so you’d have more space.

“Stop hogging my bed,” Miles snarked with no real malice to his words—in fact, he was beaming goofily, watching you with amusement as you grumbled under your breath about how it wasn’t your fault his bed was so narrow. 

Your socked foot kicked him in the shin. He retaliated by elbowing you in the ribs. “When was the last time you changed your sheets?”

Miles stuck his tongue out at you. “You don’t wanna know.”

“Ew,” you said, but didn’t bother moving. “You’re gross.”

The boy laying beside you reached out to blindly ruffle your hair, nearly poking your eyes out in the process. “Thanks. You’re not too bad yourself.”

A comfortable silence stretched over the two of you, and you couldn’t help but revel in the overwhelming sense of nostalgia that clawed up your throat. The warm kind of nostalgia, like playing video games at three in the morning while whisper-yelling insults at each other, or dyeing each other’s hair horrendous bright colors in his tiny bathroom with cheap dye from the drugstore down the street, or standing on his apartment’s rooftop to stargaze the light-polluted sky of Brooklyn and crown new constellations stupid names like ‘Snail Eating a Peanut Butter Sandwich’ or ‘Darth Vader Wearing Lady Gaga’s Meat Dress’. 

It was the kind of nostalgia that made you miss a time that wasn’t yet over.

“Miles,” you whispered, staring at the bumps of his popcorn ceiling. He hummed faintly in reply. “Do you think you’re going to stay here for the rest of your life?”

When he didn’t answer, you lolled your head to your side to look at him, brows furrowed. You were surprised to see that he was looking right at you with an indiscernible gaze, as if he was in a trance of some sort. 

“Miles?” 

He only snapped out of it when you flicked his forehead, and he balked forward, yelping out in half-shock, half-pain. A sheepish grin etched plainly across his lips.

“Sorry, can you repeat that?”

“Just say you weren’t listening to me and leave.” With a chortle of a laugh, you shoved your palm straight into his beaming face and pushed his head so he was forced to look away from you. “Nevermind, you idiot. It was nothing.”

You jogged up the narrow stairs to Miles’ apartment door, slightly out of breath, and rang the doorbell. No less than a minute later, his dad swung the door open, already dressed in his police uniform. A bagel was sandwiched between his teeth and his hat sat crooked on his head, which made you guess that he was probably late for work (Miles definitely had the same habit of being tardy), but he ruffled your hair nonetheless, smiling at you from around the bagel. 

“Hey, Mr. Davis,” you greeted with a mirroring grin. “Is the birthday boy home?”

He tried to speak around the food, but Mrs. Morales popped her head out from behind him, smacking his shoulder with a stern glare. “Jeff! That’s disgusting—don’t speak to them with food in your mouth!” She looked to you, her expression melting into one of affection. “Sorry about that, honey. Come on in, Miles is in his room. Wake him up if he’s still asleep, will you? I swear, that boy would snore right through a hurricane. Oh, and ask him if he wants cake or pie for his birthday dessert—and don’t take ‘I don’t really mind’ for an answer.”

“Will do, Mrs. Morales.”

Side-stepping the playfully bickering couple, you bid them adieu with a mock salute before marching straight to Miles’ room down the hall. 

You reached into your bag to pull out the can of silly string you bought from the corner store just beside school, biting into your lip with anticipation. You popped the bright red lid off before knocking on the door.

Just as it swung open to reveal Miles with mussed hair and droopy eyelids, you pressed the nozzle with a wide grin and damp pink strings shot out, covering his face entirely. He wasn’t fazed at all, going so far as to yawn when you enthusiastically yelled out, “SURPRISE! Happy birthday, dude!”

He blinked, swiping the limp strings away from his eyes. A hint of a smile cracked through his sleepy expression.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to at least pretend to be surprised.”

“This is, like, the fifth year in a row, Y/N.”

“You love it,” you crooned, before launching yourself forward to envelop him in a hug. Miles immediately reciprocated, wrapping his arms around you tightly, making sure to nuzzle extra hard into your shoulder so the pink gunk on his face would rub into your clothes. 

“Thank you,” he whispered into you. “At least you didn’t launch those fake cockroaches at me again. That was a nightmare.”

A cackle fell from you as you pulled away, pinching his cheek fondly. “Noted. Saving that for next year, then. Here, I got you some things.”

He pushed his door open further so the two of you could amble in. You sat cross-legged on his bed, pulling your bag into your lap and rifling through its contents before you pulled out a cheap glittery card.

“Hope there’s money in here,” he quipped as he took it from you. Bits of blue glitter fell onto his comforter as he pried the card open, and he shot you a glare. It was clearly a card meant for a seven-year-old child, but in bright red sharpie, the number 1 was drawn in front of the 7, with a little heart and a smiley face below. If you hadn’t been watching him so intently, Miles was sure he would’ve teared up at the sweet gesture—despite you doing it every year for as long as he could remember. His voice cracked with unvocalized emotion when he croaked out, “There’s no money in here.”

You scoffed, punching his bicep weakly. “You’re an ass. Here, I made you this, too. Had to watch, like, a billion YouTube videos to learn how to crochet these. You’re welcome.”

Alright, maybe it was less than a billion, and a lot closer to five. But Miles didn’t need to know that.

Digging into your bag again, you fished out a long woolen scarf that had alternating black and vibrant purple stripes. You threw it straight into his face before pulling out yet another piece, which Miles noticed was a soft, lavender-hued beanie. 

“You made these for me?” Miles asked in surprise, his thumb running over the soft yarn of the scarf. 

“Duh doy,” you said, wrinkling your nose in amusement when he wrapped the scarf around his neck with a goofy grin. “Here—this is the last thing, I swear—but, I also got these for you. I know you’ve been wanting them for forever.”

With one final scrummage through your bag, you pulled out a pack of premium coloring pencils, which Miles scrambled to grab, his wide eyes darting between the colors and your fond gaze. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you got these for me. They’re so expensive, Y/N, you really shouldn’t have.”

“Well,” you said, slinging an arm around him, “I gotta support local artists, you know? And you are, by far, my favorite one.”

He placed the pencils down between you, and roped you into another proper hug, quietly murmuring his thanks into your hair. 

“Your mom wanted me to ask you if you wanted birthday cake or birthday pie this year,” you whispered into him, playing with the tassels at the end of his new scarf.

“I’m kinda feeling cheesecake this year.”

“Cheesecake is pie, Miles.”

“Then why isn’t it called cheesepie?”

“Because that sounds gross.”

“You sound gross.”

“You’re grosser.”

“You’re grosserer.”

“That’s not a word.”

Miles sighed into your hairline, tugging you closer. The two of you dropped your childish bickering as if it had never happened. “Thank you—for all this. I know I don’t tell you enough but, I… love you. Blegh. It’s so weird being sappy with you.”

He kept his hand to the back of your head so you wouldn’t be able to see his eyes tearing up. You heard him sniffling, so it was really pointless, anyway.

“I guess I love you, too. Idiot.”

“Smartass.”

“Nerd.”

The two of you laughed into each other.

“Happy birthday, Miles.”

A month passed by in a breeze. The two of you had rarely seen each other through the days because you had been loaded with work and Miles… Miles was busy. Apparently. You weren’t entirely sure with what exactly, but you didn’t really want to pry. He was a teenage boy—they were allowed to have their own little secrets if they wanted to. 

But it was the weekend, and you missed your best friend. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Miles’ dad greeted you as he swung the door open. He lifted a hand for a high five, and you playfully pressed your knuckles into his palm as if you were fist bumping him. He chuckled at your antics, before speaking again. “Miles is at school—some sort of art club, I think. Or maybe it was a science convention. I never know with him nowadays. Gonna have to ask him once he gets back. You can wait for him in his room—he should be back any minute now.”

“Alright,” you said, ambling down the hall. You waved to Mrs. Morales in the kitchen before slipping into his room, shutting the door behind you softly.

You kicked your shoes off as you crawled onto his bed, curling into a ball and brandished your phone out of your pocket, texting Miles. 

yo bitch wya ur dad said you were at a science convention? bfr ik ur lying

After hesitating for a moment, you sent another text.

i miss you

You sighed, tossing your phone somewhere beside you and stared up at his popcorn ceiling. Boredom eating you away, you reached over to his table to grab one of the haphazardly strewn comic books, aimlessly flipping through the colorful graphics. You were wondering why the story was so familiar until you realized that this was your comic book that Miles had swiped from your room nearly a month ago. 

A loose sheet of paper fell out the back, and you sat up against his headboard, tilting your head curiously. 

Oh. 

It was a drawing of you. 

Your eyebrows raised as you studied the colorful sketch—seemingly done with the nice pencils you’d given him for his birthday—and looked like it was done in a hurry, but it was effortlessly beautiful nonetheless.

You were smiling widely in the drawing, holding up a peace sign. Miles had somehow even remembered the small scar across your nose bridge from that time when he had accidentally thrown a basketball straight into your face a year ago. 

“Oh, Miles,” you whispered softly, tracing the intricate lines with a finger.

As if on cue, the window beside his desk slid open, and in crawled… Spider-Man?

But Spider-Man—Peter Parker—was dead. The two of you had gone to listen to MJ Parker’s remembrance speech together a couple years ago. And Spider-Man had a blue and red suit.

This wasn’t Spider-Man. At least, not the one that you knew. 

The figure, frozen halfway through the window, sported a sleek back and red spider suit. 

And, you recognized with wide eyes, the lavender beanie was pulled over his head, on top of the dark mask. 

You blinked, scrambling back on his bed. 

“Miles…?” you asked tentatively.

Your best friend, the one that you loved ever so dearly, slowly slid into his room, and shut the window behind him, before taking the mask off. His hair was rumpled and his features were slightly winded, but otherwise, he looked just the same.

Words failed to cohesively stick together as you struggled to ask him a proper question. “What are you… why are you…”

Miles pursed his lips. “I didn’t want you to know. Not this soon, at least.”

“Know what, Miles?”

He let out a long sigh, before backing up to the wall. He then proceeded to walk along his walls perfectly horizontal, as if his shoes were somehow suction-cupped to the plaster.

“What the fuck…” you whispered, staring at him with wide, unblinking eyes. “Miles, what the actual fuck? Am I dreaming? I must be dreaming.”

“You’re not dreaming.” He dropped back to the ground silently.

“So you’re… what? You’re Spider-Man, now?”

Miles shrugged. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am.”

“You have powers?”

Teeth sinking into his bottom lip, he nodded sheepishly. “Bitten by a radioactive spider a while ago.”

Hurt etched into your voice without you meaning to do so. “Why didn’t you tell me, Miles?”

“I didn’t…” he cut himself off, slumping into his chair. The brown of his eyes gleamed with inner conflict, unsure of what to tell you. “I didn’t want you to worry. So much has been happening, I just—I wanted you to be separate. I wanted you to be… away from all of that.”

The two of you were silent for a moment.

You squared your jaw.

“Okay.”

Miles looked up at you in surprise.

“Okay? What do you mean?”

“Okay as in—I’ll stay away from it all if you really want me to. Spider or not, you’re my best friend, Miles. Nothing will ever change that.” You pushed yourself off the bed to walk over to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, then promptly changed your mind, winding your arms around his torso and tugging him into a warm embrace. “But if you die out there… I’ll actually kill you. I’ll do it, Miles, I will.”

He laughed slightly, winding his lanky arms around you to return the hug. “I believe you. Thank you.”

“I love you,” you whispered, chin resting on his suit-clad shoulder. “Things are changing for both of us, Miles. And I need you to stay in my life.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, rubbing comforting circles into your back with his palm. There was a knot in his chest, and a lump in his throat. He felt the strange need to cry build up within him, but he kept the tears at bay for you. “I love you, too, you know.”

You hummed against him, sniffling slightly. “I know.”

“I saw your text. I miss you, too.”

“I know.”

“I love you,” Miles repeated, voice faltering slightly.

“I know?” you parroted, mildly confused.

He grasped your shoulders to pull you away, holding you at an arm’s length. The expression that melded over his handsome features was suddenly deadly serious. The abrupt change was jarring—it scared you. “Maybe not in a friend way, though.”

“Oh,” you whispered. You could feel your pulse thrumming beneath your skin. “I didn’t know that.”

A hot tear slipped down your cheek and your shoulders trembled as you staved off a hiccuping sob. Miles’ heart lurched, and he hurriedly swiped it away, afraid that he had completely ruined what the two of you had.

“Everything’s changing, Miles. You know I hate change. It’s all moving by too quickly.” Your expression crumpled as more tears began sliding down your face. “But I think I love you, too. Maybe not in a friend way. And that just… terrifies me.” 

Warmth from his palm radiated against your face even with the suit layered over his hand. He cupped your cheeks delicately, tilting his head as he studied you.

“Can I… can I try something? And if it doesn’t work out, we can just pretend it never happened and go back to being best friends. I promise.”

You weren’t stupid. You knew Miles wanted to kiss you.

“Okay,” you croaked.

And he did.

It wasn’t at all like how kisses were depicted in the movies. There were no fireworks, no explosive passion, and certainly no feverish desperation. Only bumping noses and gentle smiles and lips that tasted of salty tears. And it was perfect. 

“Hm. You’re a bad kisser,” Miles concluded in a joking tone, but dipped down to give you another kiss nonetheless.

You weren’t entirely sure where this left your relationship, and if you were being honest, you were a bit too scared to interrogate him for answers he probably also didn’t have. You didn’t want to ask for much—you were just happy to spend time with him and enjoy the last few precious remnants of teenagehood the two of you had left together. Miles meant the world to you, and you’d be damned if a radioactive spider got in the way of that.

Arching an eyebrow, you gestured to the looseleaf drawing you left on his bed. “And you’re a creep for drawing me without letting me know.”

Miles blanched. “I… hey! You were looking through my stuff?”

“It was in a comic book on the table. That you stole from me, remember?” Tugging him back to you, you leaned up to slant your lips onto his, smiling stupidly into the kiss. “Idiot.”

“Well, it takes one to know one,” he murmured against you, grinning so wide that it nearly split his face in two.

You shut him up by kissing him again.

[gay-dorito-dust]

How do you think Ford’d act when the reader, when taking notice of his horrid sleep habits and kinda-worse sleeping areas, decides to clean up his room to make it more comfortable for him? Like a new mattress, getting rid of cobwebs and trash, sweeping, etc. He just stumbles into his room to find it nice and tidy and just passes out on the nice, not 30-year-old mattress.

I just want this man to sleep :-[

Ford probably wasn’t thinking about how well kept his room was for a place that hadn’t been touched in the past thirty years, especially not when his mind was foggy and in desperate need of sleep after staying up past midnight. However as his head hits the pillows, he couldn’t help but notice how nicer it was and how well it supported and comforted his aching and agin body perfectly.

Yet before he could fully question it, his body succumb to a long, deep and well deserved sleep.

Ford doesn’t being his questioning until the next morning as he found Stan making breakfast for the twins, you, Ford and himself. ‘Stanley did you keep my room clean and well kept?’ Stan only looked at him, confused. ‘No, why would I? I gain nothing from doing such a thing, besides that sounds like something y/n did. So why not ask them?’

Ford didn’t have to wait long to ask you as you came into the kitchen, almost as though you were summoned the moment your name left Stanley’s lips, all the while the man himself smiled from his place at the stove. ‘What a coincidence, we were just talking about you doll face…or much rather he was.’ Stanley teased as he looked over at Ford while pointing his spatula at him, Ford felt as though he was pushed under a spotlight the moment your eyes moved to him, he felt a little exposed.

‘Oh yeah? What about?’ You asked.

Ford gave his brother a glare before it softened when looking at you. ‘My dear, have you perhaps been keeping my room clean and well kept for me?’

You smiled. ‘Yeah I have, the room had been left untouched for thirty years Ford! It’s not exactly going to make for an adequate sleep with that old mattress.’ You shrugged your shoulders, feeling a little sheepish in your own actions but happy at the same time form seeing how well rested Ford looked. ‘So I decided to give it a complete make over. I hope you don’t mind.’ You finished as you saw Ford looking at you softly.

‘I don’t mind at all my dear, I just don’t think you should be cleaning up after me.’ He reassures you, while his mind overthought of the abundance of embarrassing things you could’ve found during your complete clean out of his old room, praying that you didn’t see the failed sketches he had of you carelessly tossed into the overfilled bin. You waved him off. ‘It’s fine you’re a very busy man Ford and besides I found it almost therapeutic in a way.’ You tell him as you walked past him to the kettle to make yourself a drink before looking over at him from your shoulder. ‘How did you sleep?’

‘More peacefully and soundly than i have in long long time. Thank you my dear.’ Ford says softly as he gently moves you to the side, much to your surprise, as he decides to show his appreciation for you by making you your morning drink for you. ‘However I do believe I should return the favour, so sit yourself down at the table and I’ll take care of the rest.’ Before you could say anything in rebuttal, to tell Ford that you didn’t mind making your own morning drink, Stanley points his spatula at you then at the table.

‘You. Sit. Now. Ford is as stubborn as a mule dollface, so I would just let him do this if I were you.’ He tells you playfully as Ford looks at him with another halfhearted glare as he makes your drink the way you liked it, while as Stanley only smirked at his brother’s eagerness to pay your kindness forward. For you were the first person in thirty years to show Ford kindness, patience and concern for his sleep schedule, so needless to say he was determined to show that he cared for you just as equally.

[figsnpassionfruits]

Confessions

a/n: this is basically a chapter from my now deleted fic. the reader here is an artist; but this can be ignored if you wish so :) word count: 3.1k tags: arthur morgan x fem!reader, smut, angst, kinda fluff?, 'what are we' - trope warnings: smut, unclear rs status, age gap, creampie, 18+, mdni dividers by: @strangergraphics-archive pictures are from pinterest

“Horses are taken care of.” You said, taking off your shoes and coat before throwing yourself down on the soft texture of the mattress in the hotel room. With the relaxation of your body came the torment of your mind. Now all there was to do was to think. Think about what to say; think about what to change and think about what to do. “What’s the plan now?” You asked, breaking the silence.

Arthur peeked up from the table he was standing by, stopping the action of writing into his diary for a brief second. “Don’t know, sweetheart. Dutch keeps talkin’ about money. They want to get Bronte out the way to rob somethin’ bigger. Somethin’ that’s worth all the shootin’.”

“And then what?”

“Camp wants to get away. Dutch is talkin’ about some place called Tahiti. But I just don’t know any more what I want.”

Hearing those words were painful. After all this time, it seemed like his camp was still what was the most important thing to him. If they all left after getting the money they needed; he would follow. You were not present in those plans. How could you be? Arthur had refused to let you meet them for the longest time now. It was not like he was in the wrong. Yet, it still hurt. No matter what would happen he would be with his camp. And you? You were insignificant.

Noticing your silence, Arthur let out a sigh before putting down his diary. He slowly walked over to the bedframe, letting the weight of him drop down to the mattress. After still not looking up at him, he took a finger to place it underneath your chin, guiding your face up to create eye contact. “What is it that ya want, dove?”

“I want a lot.”

“Tell me then.”

“It’s stupid.”

“It can’t be.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you moved your frame to the middle of the bed, creating space for him to sit on.

Arthur placed a hand now on the side of your head, gently pressing down on it to make you lay your head on his shoulder.

“I want a farm.” You started. “And a gallery, made out of glass, just for my paintings.”

“That so?” Arthur smiled, placing a kiss on your temple.

You hummed to confirm your statement, playing with your fingers, being a little embarrassed after saying your wishes out loud.

“And where exactly would those things be?” Arthur questioned, taking a hand of yours to stop you from fidgeting with them. He had recognized your nervousness. Now again, the age gap made itself be present. You had dreams and a goal in life. For him, that was already over. All he could do was be a servant to the ones who were still fighting. His loyalty was set on the gang. That did not mean that he would simply abandon you for them. Yet, he was torn. Life had given him too many things to balance. It was on him to decide what to throw out of the equation to move things forward.

“Big Valley, maybe? I always tend to go there.”

“Big Valley, huh?”

“Yea, why?”

Arthur let out a chuckle before answering. “That’s the place we first met.”

“Oh.” You giggled. Another silence occurred, forcing the both of you to wrestle with your thoughts again. There was a certain tension in the room; as if things were left unspoken. You had so much to ask him: ‘What about me? What about us? When will you leave? What will I do once you do?’ But where were you supposed to start? Collecting your courage to confront him, you sat up, leaning your body weight on the hand that was propped up on him, earning you a puzzled look from Arthur. “Arthur, I- what are we doing here?”

“What?”

“What is this? We’re always together. We hug and cuddle but what are we doing?”

Arthur continued to stare at you, scanning his eyes all over your face, unable to read your emotions as you questioned your relationship with him. “I-“

“I was hoping you wanted me the way I want you.” There it was. The confession you had bundled up in your chest for weeks. There was no turning back now. You had poured out your heart to him in a single sentence. All that was left for you to do now was to listen what we would say. By looking at him, you could see the wheels in his head turning. He was trying desperately to think before talking.

“I do want ya, sweetheart.” Arthur confessed, placing a hand on your arm, rubbing it affectionately. “It’s just-“ He closed his eyes for a brief moment, smacking his lips once before continuing. “How could a pretty little thin’ like you get out of an old man like me?”

“Arthur, no.” You moaned, moving your body closer to his to place your palm on his brunette beard. “Why would I care about you being older than me?” You knew about the concerns Arthur had about the two of you from his diary entries. Yet this was the first time he confessed it to you verbally. “Arthur you’re the sweetest and kindest man I have ever laid my eyes on. When you asked me before what I want- I wanted to say ‘you’. I wanted to say ‘us’.” You roamed your hands all over his saddened face now, placing a soft kiss on the tip of his nose, making him look at you. “I want us to happen, Arthur. I wanna be yours.” As your voice got quieter but needier, you moved his arm away from his torso, gathering your courage to sit on his lap, your hands still placed near his face. “Please.” You begged, starting to slowly move your hips on his groin. “Call me yours.”

Arthur clenched his jaw at your words, slamming his eyes shut for a second before giving into your devotion. He places his rough hands on your face, pulling you down to him to slam his lips onto yours.

His harsh handling alone made you moan into the kiss, moving your lips to the rhythm of his. It did not take too long for the both of you to roam each other’s mouths with your tongues, the act getting more frantic as the milliseconds passed.

Arthur placed his hands onto your rear, squeezing it tightly and pulling you closer to him to release the tension that had now formed in his tight black pants. He sat up fully, moving his hands now to grasp your hips, flipping you over onto your back. For a second, he broke the kiss, looking into your eyes, scanning you for any hesitation. Not finding any, he dived back into the kiss, causing your heart to beat faster and faster in anticipation.

“Arthur…” You whimpered against his lips, thrusting your lower body in an attempt to get more friction to your heat.

“I know, darlin’.” He whispered, moving his hands down your body, the calloused skin feeling like rocks against your soft frame.

Being displeased about the fact that you were both fully clothed, you took matters into your own hands, leaning on your elbows to pull Arthur shirt over his head after you undid the first few upper buttons.

After mirroring the same action, Arthur slid his hand to your now exposed neck, sucking on skin next to it. He opted to slide his other down to your pants, bringing you closer by gripping the thin fabric, pressing your naked chests closer.

“Take off your clothes.” You managed to whisper in between hungry kisses.

A quiet chuckle rumbled through his chest before he obligated to your request, pulling down his pants propping himself on one arm that was placed next to head on the mattress.

While he was occupied with his, you took off your own, leading to the both of you exposing all of your skin. Placing your hands back on his neck, you pulled him down to you, your lips not being able to get enough of his.

Unhurried, Arthur slithered his hand down your stomach, moving it closer to your cunt. Once there, he cupped it gently, making you moan quietly as you thrusted your hip against it.

“Easy, sweetheart.” He grumbled, the feeling of his hand on your heat sucking the air from your chest.

Your lips brushed against the shell of his ear as he started to move his head down, a shaky groan rolling through his chest as a response.

Setting his hands on the back of your knees, Arthur flipped your legs up, moving an arm of his to hold them up with a single limb. The fresh air hit your warm cunt, causing you to bite your lip at not only the feeling but also on the sight in front of you. “Please.” You begged, tilting your head at the man who was keeping you in place.

The pecks he delivered to your inner thighs travelled closer and closer to where you wanted him, his eyes on you like a predator stalking his prey. He had never heard sounds as pretty as the ones you were giving him, begging to be touched. A thick finger of his swiped through your wet folds, wanting to hear your melodies again. “You’re already soaked for me, dove.” He rasped before putting his face closer to you, his beard tickling your delicate skin. It did not take his tongue long to find your bundle of joy, flicking it continuously, making you close your eyes and lean your head back into the cushions.

“God, Arthur.” You moaned, your voice getting higher from the way your nerves were getting tickled by the sensation.

“Ya taste so good.” He murmured, crawling back up to you to engulf you in another heated kiss, demanding you to taste yourself on his tongue. Arthur began to sink his middle finger into you, deepening the kiss for only a split second before he propped himself back up, staring into your eyes to make sure it felt okay. “This alright, sweetheart?”

You nodded, letting out small gasps in a pathetic attempt to respond to him.

Arthur cooed at you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead as you squirmed. “Don’t gotta talk. That nod’s good enough. Lemme take care of ya.” His voice got lower and lower with each word, the lust in his body taking over. The finger inside you was curled now, pulling small moans from you. For him, the sounds you were making came straight from heaven. Why did the two of you refuse this for so long?

“I need you inside me.” You cried softly, moving your hips faster against his hand.

“Easy, now.” Arthur rebuked, pulling his hand out of you, causing you to let out a whine. “Ya wanna take me already?”

Giving yourself a small moment to think about his question, you shook your head, making Arthur tilt his head. “I wanna taste you as well.” You demanded, pushing his body off you to put yourself on all fours.

Arthur was now on his knees, allowing you to take control for the meantime. His already hard cock was in front you, throbbing and asking to be touched in any way. As you put a hand on his dick, Arthurs hands travelled to your hair, holding it back and out of your face to allow himself to have no blockage of the view. With eyes set on his blue ones, you licked a trail from his base to his tip, causing Arthur to let out a low moan as he leaned his head back. After all the years of torment and stress his body has been going through, this was needed; badly.

You wrapped your lips around his cock, focusing on the tip when you swirled your tongue as you bopped your head. Your hand was travelling along on his cock, making sure to stroke what you were not able to fit into your mouth.

“You’re a pretty little thing, ain’t ya? Good girl.” Arthur cussed, the breath in his voice hitching as you kept sucking him off.

As a reply you hummed around him, Arthur whimpering at the sound of it.

“Just lemme-“ Arthur noted, placing a hand on the back of your neck while the other found his way below your chin. “Keep yer mouth open for me, darlin’, alright?”

You looked up at him, nodding once to let him know whatever was coming was okay for you. You noticed the hesitation in him. Arthur required your approval for every single thing he wished to do. The poor man had been through so much in his life. This was a way for you to let him release it all. If anyone deserved it, it was Arthur.

With your permission, he started to thrust into your mouth, the action creating vulgar sounds that filled the hotel room.

“Got the prettiest little throat.” Arthur groaned, saying the words in between the fast thrusts he was doing. He licked his lips once before moderately slowing them down, only to push your head further into him, letting go of you once you gagged. A trail of spit remained glued from his cock to your lips when you pulled back, his eyes darkening with craving at the sight of it.

After collecting your breath, you looked up at the man from your hands and knees, flashing a big smile and biting your bottom lip.

“Ya really like this, don’t cha?”

You hummed in approval, a hand of yours pumping his cock, refusing to leave it without any attention. “Now, I want you inside of me.”

As a reply, Arthur flipped you onto your back again, one single hand holding both of your legs up by the back of your knees. He first placed a thumb on your clit, skillfully rubbing a figure eight against the sensitive patch.

The eye contact you both remained could turn anyone primal. Sucking air in between your teeth, you moaned his name, needy to feel his cock in you.

Once he removed his hand from your heat, Arthur soaked in the view from your wet folds, this angle allowing him to take in each pore.

In protest from the lack of touch, you slid your own hand down your body, rubbing yourself with three fingers.

Instead of fighting for the control, Arthur simply watched your hand, enjoying the sight of your delicate fingers rubbing against your glistening body. “No art of yers is gonna be able to touch the beauty of this.”

You giggled at his words, your heartbeat speeding up as he propped himself up, licking his own hand for some lubrication to rub it on his tip before pumping his shaft a few times. Once he contacted your skin, he rubbed himself against your soaked cunt. As he sank himself slowly into you, you hissed at the feeling of being stretched out by the man you were in love with. To get him closer to you, you put a hand on the back of his neck, forcing him to lean his forehead against yours as he disappeared in you, inch by inch, letting out a long and low groan as he did.

“Atta girl,” He breathed out, the large hand he had placed on your legs now gripping tighter onto the thin skin there. “Takin’ me so good already.”

“You feel so good.” You moaned out, pupils wide and mouth hanging open at the filling feeling of him inside you. Your pulse was now at its high, your heart feeling like it could burst out of your chest.

Arthur placed several light kisses on your legs, hip hips now slowly going back and forth, watching his cock get more soaked with each time he pulled back of you. After a while of repeating this, he struggled with holding himself back from gaining speed, asking you if it was alright for him to take things faster. With a nod and still the deep stare into his eyes, he began to pick up pace to a more relentless one, pumping his cock into you, setting a pace that was rough, yet not animalistic.

The pressure in your abdomen continued to boil, the speed of his thrusts being exactly what you needed. The desperation in your moans and whines built themselves up, your legs squirming more and more, causing Arthur to grip your body painfully now to keep himself steady and to not crush your frame with his weight.

A hand that Arthur previously had on your breasts, moved down to your clit once more, rubbing the spot gently, yet rapid.

Your thighs began to shake, a hand of your own now shutting your own mouth, trying to keep yourself quiet from the amount of pleasure Arthur was giving to you.

“You’re okay.” Arthur groaned, a hint of desperation behind his voice, nipping at the skin on your calves as you continued to shake.

Loud cries escaped your mouth as his thumb rubbed the circles faster and faster. With a whine of his name your walls clenched around his cock, tightly wrapping it.

To allow you to come down from your high, Arthur stopped his thrusts, letting go of your legs to lean down to kiss your closed eyelids which were fluttering. “Ya alright?” He asked, doing his best to keep his movements as minimal as possible while being buried deep in you.

You nodded, smiling at him. “Want you to come inside me.”

Arthur smirked at you, moving his body in a way that allowed you to spread your legs only for you to wrap them around his core. The feeling of your legs tight against him caused him to go back to his relentless speed in a matter of seconds, eliminating the quiet moment you just had, filling the air again with the sound of skins slapping and your frantic cries.

“W-want you to fill me up.” You managed to say in between your euphoria, and that was all that Arthur needed to convince him.

With a couple more bruising thrusts he buried himself to a halt, emptying himself in hot intervals into you, groaning loudly. Arthur lazily leaned his forehead to yours, smiling at you with his eyes closed. “Jesus.”

“Not quite.” You giggled, making him roll his eyes at your comment. When he tried to remove himself, you shut your legs tighter around him, silently asking him to stay buried in you for only a little bit longer.

Arthur wrapped his arms around you, puling you closer to him, lingering kisses all over your face.

You brushed your nose against his when he travelled his lips from one side to another, forcing a bigger smile from him.

🍯

[bosinclairsgff]

Slashers reacting to self harm scars

MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING FOR SELF HARM

Warning: talk of self harm, Otis’s is kinda dark, kidnap

Includes: Baby Firefly, Otis Driftwood, Bo Sinclair, The Grabber, Amanda Young

Baby would be laying down with you in bed one night. She loves cuddling you and covering you in kisses. The kisses would start at your neck and go the way down to your hands. That’s when she feels scabbed over cuts on your arm. Immediately she sits up and grabs your arm. “Sugar, what happened?? Are ya okay? Did someone hurt ya?” She asks frantically. You would have to explain to her what happened. She’s heartbroken at first, not understanding why you would do that to yourself. Baby loves you so much and wants you to see how amazing you are. “Oh sweetheart, you don’t have to do that. It’s okay ya know I’ll take care ya.” She says sympathetically, pulling you into a tight hug. “Please don’t do that again sugar, come to me, I’ll help you.” Baby says. You nod in response, maybe she could help you.

Otis wanted to take a shower with you, which you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity for getting him clean. The only bad thing was you had just relapsed recently. You did not want him to see that right now, not knowing how he’d react. Otis went ahead of you and started the shower, getting in first. You slowly followed behind him. “What the fuck is taking ya so god damn long girl, I don’t have all fucking day.” He shouts. You pick the pace up, undressing and stepping into the shower with him. Immediately his eyes fall to your arms and thighs. “What the fuck happened to ya?” He says reaching out to touch your arm. You wince and pull back. “I asked what the fuck happened.” He states in a darker tone. Taking to long for his liking he grabs you by the neck and pushes you against the wall. “You think it’s okay to harm yourself like that mama?” Otis questions again. You shake your head, struggling to breathe. “You ever pull some shit like this again, and I’ll show you real mother fucking pain bitch.” He growls into your ear.

For the past few days you’ve been walking around Ambrose in a long sleeve shirt, keeping it on day and night. Bo starts to notice after the first day. How you avoid him touching one of your arms. Even at night when you usually sleep in one of his oversized shirts, you’ve stuck to a tight long sleeve. So, he confronts you one night. “Darlin, why are you wearin that damn long sleeve shirt in the middle of a Louisiana summer?” Bo questions while tilting his head to the side. It catches you off guard you thought he hadn’t noticed. “Oh I’m not sure. I didn’t even realize I had been wearing a long sleeve shirt. It does keep the sun off me though so that’s good I suppose.” You try to laugh it off. He looks down and chuckles, before grabbing you roughly and the wrist. You yelp in response. Before you can protest he harshly shoves your sleeve up your arm, making you wince in slight pain. His eyes widen at the sight. “Baby, why would you do that? I never want to see this shit again. You understan me?” He barks out like an order, gripping your wrist tighter. “Okay! I promise I won’t do it again, please let go.” Satisfied, he lets go.

It was the third day you had been taken and kept in this hell like basement. You knew it was The Grabber who had taken you. Sometimes when you woke up, you found him sitting near the mattress, just watching you sleep. It scared you but also brought almost a sick comfort. This time he came downstairs he had a small cardboard box in his hands. “I brought you a….new shirt and new underwear. So I can wash your pants.” He says smiling. You say nothing in response, just nodding. He sat down the box in front of you, watching, waiting for you to make a move to look into the box. Scared, you move forward and taking the shirt and underwear out of the box. “Where can I change?” You say, just above a whisper. The man chuckles darkly. “You’ll change right here dove.” His dark smile growing larger. Not wanting to make him mad you take your shirt off, revealing your arms to him. His eyes stay emotionless but intrigued. “Oh my little dove, why do such a thing? Your skin is so beautiful.” He says in almost a kind, caring voice. “I don’t know, it helps me calm down. The world can be so much to handle.” You respond putting the shirt over your head. You couldn’t hide your arms as it was a short sleeve shirt. It was however just oversized enough to hide your most precious parts from his eyes as you changed underwear. Sliding the cardboard box back over to his feet with the dirty clothes you look up at him. He squats down, now eye to eye with you. “What will you do now to handle the world?” He laughs darkly, getting up and leaving you alone in the dark basement.