#the belt WAS a good idea even if it's a little annoying from a practical standpoint lol

[marshmellowtea]

ignore how dirty the mirror is in the last two pictures ghlsdkajfds but guys............i think this outfit actually really came together..................

[niniwritesxo]

‘pretty’ pt.4

nam-gyu x fem reader

warnings: degradation, cursing, nam-gyu is kind of mean, unprotected sex & reader is a sub.

——

how did you even end up here? standing against a cold and hard toilet stall, nam-gyu’s hand roughly grabbing the back of your neck holding your head straight.

he looked you up and down, it almost looked like he was inspecting you or something.

‘‘let go of me fuckface’’ you say trying to push him off.

‘‘you have somewhere to be..?’’ he starts, looking for a stupid comment he can annoy you with.

‘‘player 333 waiting for you?’’ he puts his left hand to his eyes, acting like he is crying. mocking myung-gi.

‘‘he has a name you kn-’’ you start defending player 333 in an instant.

it’s not like you guys were best friends but he was like the only normal person to you.

something in nam-gyu exploded, you can’t tell what it is though.

‘‘you are such a bitch you know that right?, always talking about other men’’ he spits, disgusts in his eyes at the mention of the other men’s name.

it sounds insane but..is he jealous?

no way, nam-gyu hated everything that had to do with you.

‘‘sit down’’ he demanded of you, looking around seeming to search for an idea.

for some reason you obey and sit down on that stupid toilet again, the look in his eyes seemed serious and you were curious about what was about to happen.

nam-gyu unbuckled his belt and undid his pants, showing his boxers. his right hand coming up towards your chin, lifting it up.

‘‘whatever you do, i need you to keep your eyes on me’’ he begins, expecting you to take his request serious.

he quickly reaches into his boxers and takes out his cock, stroking it a little before he starts again.

‘‘open your mouth’’ he says looking into your eyes, still stroking his member.

before you can realize what he said he already showed his cock in your mouth, holding the back of your neck again so you can swallow all 7 inches.

you feel yourself gagging as he thrusts into your mouth again and again, you feel like you are suffocating but in a good way.

for some reason you managed to keep eye contact with him.

‘‘you are doing so good for me’’ he says looking down at you with nothing but lust in his eyes.

after a few minutes you look up at him again.

you notice his legs are starting to tremble under your touch, he breaks the eye contact looking up at the ceiling.

‘‘fuck fuck just one more plea-’’ he suddenly says out of breath, his chest rising and falling in rapid, uneven bursts.

was he about to beg? no fucking way.

that’s when you feel it, warm liquid entering your mouth, escaping through the side of your mouth.

he looks at you with a almost warning gaze, practically telling you to swallow his cum. you follow his instructions and swallow it, closing your eyes at the taste.

‘what a slut you are huh?’’ he finishes his sentence proudly smirking at the insult.

you tightly squeeze together your thighs at the nickname, the way he was throwing around these insults was doing way more to you than you would like to admit.

who knew a guy like nam-gyu could make you feel this embarassed and good at the same time.

without noticing your body reacted to the sounds nam-gyu made, every grunt, moan or even deep breath he took made you react, it was either a whimper or another sound you were trying to hide.

nam-gyu notices the quick twitches and noises coming from you, he looks down at you and demands you to open your tracksuit.

you slowly take off the jacket, kind off embarrassed by the action. you haven’t had such a intimate moment with a men in forever.

‘‘hurry the fuck up y/n’’ he says almost annoyed, you notice the impatience in his voice.

you get flustered by the name calling and try to hurry up, you hate to admit it but you need it so bad right now.

you felt like a horny teenage girl right now.

——

‘‘fuck,, you feel good y/n’’ nam-gyu manages to let out pounding into your wet cunt.

you hated how wet he made you beforehand, it was the way he worded things. it was so fucking hot.

‘‘i bet that dumb bitch ex boyfriend of yours can’t fuck you like this huh?’’

you hear what he is saying but you can’t respond, the constant ramming into you is making you lose your mind, you are still sitting on the toilet and are confused how he is able to fuck you in this position, but it’s working so you are not complaining.

‘‘i- i-’’ you try to start, your eyes rolling back at the satisfaction you are feeling in this moment.

‘‘fucking talk,, y/n, are you good for anything besides fucking anyway?’’ he spits, grabbing your ponytail harshly still trusting into you.

‘‘n-no nam-gyu’’ you manage to answer wincing as he pulls your hair back.

‘‘that’s what i thought bitch’’ he responds, not thinking twice before slapping your ass.

after a few minutes of pounding, wincing and whimpering, you hear nam-gyu behind you.

‘‘i am about to- about to cum y/n fu-’’ as he tries to finish his sentence it has already happened he came, inside you.

fuck.

you quickly stand up straight, facing him.

‘‘no fucking way nam-gyu you didn-’’ you say looking at him in shock.

‘‘oh there is the y/n i know’’ he responds, his smirk showing.

he leans in a whispers.

‘‘i had to show you that you couldn’t get fucked better than this, so don’t go looking for it somewhere else.’ he says with a warning in his voice. probably referring to myung-gi.

you get dressed and walk out of the stall, when you stand in front of mirror you try to make yourself look as reasonable as possible.

nam-gyu goed to stand besides you checking his hair, checking himself out it seems like.

‘‘that was fun’’ he says looking at you in the mirror, he then turns to you and fixes your hair for you.

‘‘pretty’’ he simply states, exiting the bathroom.

what the actual fuck just happened.

———

(this is my first time writing smut guys lol, also english is not my first language)

[marchsfreakshow]

A Night Time Rush [Stan Bowes]

Smut / Angst

Stan likes to be gentle with you whenever he's over, but sometimes he can't help himself if he's had a bad day.

Anon... I haven't written for Stan for a while but I was JUST thinking about this idea w him.. we r on the same brainwaves.

Fair warning I still haven't finished off S1 of Pose... Might sound ooc, hope it's still good <3

18+! MINORS DNI! READ MY SFW STUFF

Warnings: Stan's a pos I hate him <3 (shit talking Patty which I don't agree w truly. I love Patty), fem!reader so PnV, quick fuck, praise, hand job, creampie. (That's a bad way of saying breeding kink)

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Fuck. This. Bullshit!

Stan couldn't take it anymore. Not in his selfish mind. Patty was asking too much of him.

Was he, though? Was he really?

He felt like he was already taking enough days off as it is! There's no way in hell he can add a Wednesday off, too. Jesus...

... So maybe he was exaggerating it a little. There was already so much stress radiating off him like a stench that any little, picky thing from his wife practically set him off. It was obvious when he visited your apartment earlier in the evening. Stan stormed off in a frankly immature huff, leaving his sleepy kids wondering why mommy was so upset. Driving immediately to yours like the routine was second nature to him.

One turned key later and you peeked up from the couch, noticing Stan's pissed off look. Chest heaving as he removed his coat, he put his spare key to your place on the side table. "You okay?"

"Shut up." He snapped, which made you blink in surprise and a bit hurt. Stan winced as he realised he may have freaked you out, making him sigh, slip off his shoes and sit by you on the sofa. "Fuck.." He murmured, leaning his head back against the back cushions. Today certainly hasn't gone right.

Sensing his stress about to snap like a twig, you slid yourself onto his lap, already in some evening wear. Arms smoothly slid around his shoulders and legs on either side of his hips. His eyes were still closed but his hands went to your ass, kneading it like dough. Like he was a cat pawing at something comfortable. "Mm wanna tell me something love?" You asked, starting to press kisses to his neck.

Stan made a little 'mmh' noise, debating in his head wether he wanted to bother you with a vent about his wife again. He was sure you were sick and tired of hearing about this woman and how it's not easy to leave her like you so, so desperately wanted. And god forbid he mentions his little ones. He did love them, but lord, it was so much at once, and finding time for you onto- "What's your lady done today, hm? How's she annoyed you?"

"fuck... She was up my ass today," Your hands went to his belt, pulling the leather out of the holder slowly. The sound made Stan take a deep breath in. You smiled and hummed in his ear, encouraging him to continue venting. His zipper and button went next, slipping your hand down his boxers, jerking him off.

Stan moaned quietly, eyebrows furrowed for a second as he tried to formulate his words. "I already take so many days off... I try my fucking best and apparently I need, shit, more days off... I can't fucking do it. Work needs me. You need me.." He sighed into your neck, hips jerking up into your hand slightly. It seemed slightly unreasonable to Stan, but he wasn't going to bother you with details. You didn't need them. You just needed him.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry." You cooed, picking up the pace which he hissed at. He let out a little 'ha' and his fingers gripped you. Wherever he could, he found something to ground him. "You're doing so well, baby, I think you're doing such a good job at work." You praised softly, smiling again and kissing the side of his face. Which in turn made Stan turn his head to kiss you deeply. It was needed. He groaned into your mouth, like he was trying to swallow you whole, keep you as close as possible.

"bite me... Please.. I need it. Bite me.." Stan muttered, eyes glazed over slightly in lust. You knew he didn't mean it. You couldn't, even though you wanted you. So desperately you wanted to kiss and bite his neck, make sure his co-workers knew someone else was making him so happy.

A small noise left you, something of a hum or a chuckle. "Stan... How about you just cum instead, hm?" You teased, pressing your thumb to the underside of the tip, rubbing it softly. His hips jerked up again, and he groaned again. Precum was leaking down his cock, coating your fingers viscously. That was probably proof enough he wanted to finish now. And quick. He just nodded though, his hands gripping at the loose fabric of your pajama trousers.

Awkwardly, you slipped the trousers down your legs, feeling one leg pool around your ankle. Stan just watched in want, needing you to go faster. Once it happened, he couldn't help himself and immediately gripped your hips, trying to get you to sit on his cock. "Awe, so needy this evening huh?" You chuckled, hovering over him for a moment. Stan just nodded, gazing up at you.

"please... Please bunny.." he begged slightly, attempting weakly to pull your hips down. A smirk was painted on your lips, and you gave in after a few seconds of torturing your boyfriend. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, Stan guided you down until he bottomed out. A quiet moan leaving his lips as he wrapped his arms tight around your waist. It kept you in place as you adjusted yourself until it felt right.

The rolls of your hips were slow, calculated and desperate. A full feeling that felt like torture for Stan as he let out occasional noises. All he needed was to lay you down and roughen you up, make you scream his name which would've made himself feel better. Make him feel somewhat wanted. It didn't take long for him to start pathetically fucking up into you, occasionally whispering your name into your neck.

Stan was a selfish lover. And it was obvious tonight. He had only fucked you a small amount before he came, whimpering into your neck as he bunny humped you to drag out the feeling of his orgasm. It was like heaven. You just accepted it, letting Stan hug onto you. "That feel better honey?"

He nodded, and just stayed buried deep in you. Making sure his release was kept in you. You kissed his cheek and smiled as you pulled back slightly. "I want to stay here tonight..." He uttered, still holding onto you, keeping you close.

"Of course you can sweetheart... I'd never deny you anything."

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Taglist: @lacucarachapisser / @fear-is-truth / @strawb3rrystar / @bohnerrific69 / @xrag-dollx / @pajaaa2005 / @saintlucretia / @taintandviolent / @phantommoondoll / @american-horror-whore

[some-thirst-here]

Pretty shy

Leo x Reader

There was always something good about the acoustics in the gym. Which is why you like sneaking away to sing after school, when there isn't any sporting practice of any kind. You waste no time in slinging your backpack down on the bleachers. You start pulling homework out and singing along to the song coming through your headphones.

"My names Noel. In gym class I mostly duck, and I kinda smell. Puberty really sucks. I like this one guy but he's pretty shy."

You belt out the song while moving around gently to the beat. The next part of the song is louder and you raise your voice to match it.

"He doesn't know who I am, and he doesn't give a damn about me. Because I'm just a teenage dirtbag baby."

Bumping into someone behind you knocks you out of the cosy little world you were just in. Heat crawls up your neck as you turn to see who. It's not one, but four guys you have never talked to. The heroes from the news. Your heart drops into your stomach.

The one in blue reaches a hand out to you, while opening his mouth to speak. Without thinking you flinch back and immediately start cramming the homework right back into the backpack. Throwing your backpack over your shoulder, you bolt. Tripping over your own feet as you run out the doors. You don't see the dejected look on the turtles face.

A moment after April walks up to the guys. "What was even that?" She can't help but ask.

Raph snorts. "They took one look at nardo here and ran." Raph pats Leo's shoulder. "It must be hard being that ugly bro." Leo promptly smacks his hand away.

April frowns, not liking that answer.

*****

For the next few weeks you make yourself scarce. The only glimpse anyone can get of you is the back of your head. You're determined to stay far away from the turtles. It was working pretty well. Unfortunately for you today is a pep rally in the gym.

The whole school is packed in the gym. So many people everywhere. Luckily your headphones do block some of the noise. You decide to sneak up to the top of the bleachers. While squeezing your way up someone knocks into you. The momentum makes you lose your balance. Your backpack is not helping as the weight helps pull you over the guard rail.

A surprised gasp leaves you as you tumble over. Your headphones hit the ground first. Squeezing your eyes closed you try to brace for impact. The sound of sneakers scuffing the floor is all you hear before you land.

"Hey, I've got you. Are you ok?" A voice very close to you asks. It takes a moment for you to open your eyes. You realize the turtle in blue has caught you bride style. He gives you a nervous smile waiting for you to speak.

"Your eyes are brown." You say without thinking. He blinks in confusion. Your heart thunders in your chest. Why did you say that?

You are once again scrambling up and out of the gym. The first thing you do is run and hide in the bathroom. After closing the door, it swings right back open and smacks against the wall. You nearly jump out of your skin. April O'Neil herself is marching up to you. You very visibly gulp. She backs you up to the wall.

"What was that? Do you have some problem with mutants or something?" April asks, clearly annoyed.

"Wh-what? That's not-." Your eyes widen as you try to reply. April raises an eyebrow.

"Well, what is your problem then?" She asks curious. You sigh, your shoulders sagging.

"I just... They saved a whole city. But every time they see me, I look like an idiot." You finally admit. You run a hand down your face. April's eyes widen. Her annoyance dissolving.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about it. You should try actually talking to them. They're all kind of huge dorks." April gives you a small smile. Thoughts of bacon, egg, and cheese fill April's head. You rub the back of your neck.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea." You mutter. April ignores your protest and grabs your hand to pull you along.

"Well, I mean Leo did just save you from a potentially broken neck, so I think the least you can do is say thank you."

"Oh ,um, right." Heat creeps back up your neck. You don't have to go far as Leo is waiting outside the bathroom. April officially introduces the two of you.

"You dropped these." Leo says holding up your missing headphones. A bright smile spreads across your face.

"Thank you." You say. Leo gently places them into your hands. You pull the headphones around your neck.

"Thanks for catching me too." You say softly looking away from Leo's face.

"Yeah, no problem. It was nothing. Not that you're nothing, you're totally something. It was just easy..to do." Leo rubs the back of his neck. Why did he say it like that?

You can't help, but smile at his rambling. Maybe it wasn't going to be so hard to get along with them.

[moralisist]

hobie brown x reader

a/n: requests r open 😉

warnings: i have no idea what any kinda british slang is so this might not even sound like hobie tbh lets just see how this all plays out 😭 might be a lil ooc… and a lil suggestive at the end

summary: hobie wants you there, right there with him, as he’s performing at his first big gig

“hobie, you have to go get ready! when i do your eye makeup, you can cling on me for however long you want to.” hobie has his first big gig. it seemed like you were way more excited than him seeing how he refused to get out of bed and was overly clingy this morning.

“no sweetheart, just 10 more minutes yeah? you can stay with me jus’ for 10 more minutes…” you can hear him drifting off back to sleep slowly but surely. he was unreasonably adamant in not getting out of bed which had you wondering if something else was really going on. you lay next to him and he clings on you as if it’s the last time he’s ever gonna hold you. you use your thumb to trace his face and smile at him.

“what’s wrong bee, hm? is there something on your mind that doesn’t want you to get up?” you’re staring at his closed eyes that are feigning sleep. he slowly opens them and sighs quietly. “not gonna lie to ya sweets… i’m a bit nervous. it’s only hitting me right now that this is my first gig. things could go stellar or things could go horribly wrong.” hobie opens up to you while using his thumb to rub your arms. you kiss his cheek and then his forehead and then his lips. “you’re gonna do great baby. i’ll be watching you and everyone else is gonna wanna kill me for screaming too loud. now come and let’s get ready.” at that, hobie gives you a little smile and begrudgingly gets out of bed with both of your hands laced together.

you’re doing your skin care and you watch hobie as he’s getting out the shower with a towel around his waist. “you wanna do skin care baby? it’ll make your face soft and pretty for today.” he can’t help but chuckle lightly at your choice of words. he loves you so much and he’s so happy he has someone to support him the way you do. “alright love, lemme wash my face first m’k?”

when you guys are done with your bathroom activities and have eaten it’s nearing the time hobie’s supposed to be at the gig to practice a couple hours before his actual performance. “okay hobie, we gotta go and get ready. go get dressed and i’ll do your eye makeup.” he does a little nod and puckers his lips slightly signaling he wanted a kiss. you kiss him quickly and go upstairs to get dressed and hobie follows suit.

you get dressed matching with hobie’s punk rock attire. “goodness gracious love, should we skip the gig?” he pulls you by your belt loops smirking at you. “hobie i’m not even gonna entertain you,” you’re giggling at his antics. “okay sit down so i can do your eye makeup and then we can go, okay?” he nods and sits on the bed and you straddle his lap while grabbing the materials you need. there’s a comforting silence as you’re doing his makeup. he’s gripping your waist and rubbing your thighs from time to time. you being here with him like this is calming the nerves he was pushing deep down about this gig.

“okay all done, let’s go we’re gonna be late.” hobie grabs the car keys and you’re both out of the door.

“hobie, you’re late!” gwen says sounding annoyed which you can assume is from the other bandmates since they’re all arguing about something seemingly minuscule. “honestly it doesn’t even matter, go talk to rest of them, they’ve been freaking out ever since we got here.”

hobie goes to settle things with his bandmates with his calm exterior and he manages to get them all relaxed. you were always so impressed that your boyfriends presence could calm anyone at anytime. they begin practicing and they sounded so good. gwen is playing with so much emotion and hobie is playing with so much passion and looks to his lead singer to make sure he’s following his lead. early comers start rolling in just to get some drinks before the band actually starts playing. you’re right in the front row, looking excited for them to start playing and give people a show.

they finish their last song of rehearsal and sound amazing. hobie goes down to the front row. “i want you staring at me the whole time, a’ight love? helps me focus.” he gives you a kiss and a semi long one before he pulls away seeing many people anticipating their performance.

once they start playing, you start screaming the lyrics to the songs they’re playing, especially to the songs you know hobie co-wrote. his eyes are on you the whole time. you can’t help but stare back smiling at him each time he’d play a beautiful solo. the place was getting more and more packed as the band continued to play with much more confidence then they had when rehearsing. you were so proud of hobie. his first big gig and he was doing so good on stage.

hobie finishes his last song with a strong solo. once he finishes, the entire pub goes crazy. he’s even getting standing ovations. you’re screaming your boyfriends name like you’ve been doing for the past hour, voice extremely hoarse. the band goes backstage and you follow, just wanting to congratulate and kiss hobie. “baby you did so amazing, i’m so proud of you-” before you finish your sentence, he pulls you in for a kiss smoothly. “heard you screaming my name the whole time. got me hot and bothered.” he smirks at you playfully while chuckling a little. “come on, let’s get you home hobie. gotta treat you after putting on such a performance huh baby?” you say slightly shoving him and smirking back.

a/n: sorry this was a little rushed towards the end it got so long it was exhausting for me to complete 😭😭😭

[ae-azile]

Progression: Chapter 30 Preview

Running a bit late on chapter 30, but hope to get it done in the next couple of days. Until then, here is another sneak peak! It is told from one of Arm's three year old niece's point of view.

Sneak peak below cut:

This place is FANCY. Their old house wasn't like this! Priyja is so excited!!!

“Now that Uncle Arm is gone, let’s explore! He won't catch on and come find us!” Tida whispers. It's early. If they leave the suite, Mama will get mad. But Priyja doesn't care. Mama said she would love them and take care of them no matter what. She’ll do the same if they sneak out and explore super early in the morning.

“We can go down to the kitchen and see if they will give us breakfast!” Priyja whispers as she gets out of her bed, “Let’s go now!”

“We gotta brush our teeth first!”

Priyja doesn't see the point if they are going to eat breakfast and get food in them anyway. Why can't they brush after breakfast like they sometimes do?

“No!” Priyja says, then crosses her arms defiantly. Tida drags her to the bathroom anyway. Priyja only relents when Tida sticks the toothpaste covered toothbrush in her mouth. It's annoying and pointless if they are going to get food from the kitchen, but she will humor her sister.

“Let's go,” Priyja says once they are finished. This time, Tida agrees.

They sneak to the elevator without being detected. It’s a little easier with Uncle Khun and Uncle Arm being on their trip, but Auntie Hansa, Auntie Nalin, and Auntie Preeda all live close by too. Auntie Preeda seems to always know when they are up to no good, just like Uncle Arm does. It's annoying. They have to be EXTRA careful. They are getting better about that. They make it to the elevator without anyone interrupting their plans.

“Maybe we should sneak food from the kitchen,” Tida whispers as they crouch down in the elevator, “Make sure no one sees us.”

Priyja nods in agreement. They should avoid getting detected for as long as possible. As practice. If they hear Mama is scared and worried, they will come right back. But they are big girls now, and big girls explore.

So that's what they do! They sneak around and get food from the kitchen without anyone seeing. It's still REALLY early. The sun isn't even up yet, and Mama probably isn't either. So while they still have complete freedom, they find a sitting room, act like they are having a fancy lunch, and practice their secret language. They came up with it themselves a long time ago, but now they are trying to make it even bigger so they can talk about everything!

“Yom Rok Oglebay Belt-ka,” Tida suggests.

“Gear-Rum Magletoff Hom,” Priyja responds. It really is a good idea, but Priyja is only going to agree if they can both wear purple.

But before Tida can agree or suggest a compromise, they hear a man clearing his throat, causing them to turn their heads.

“I believe you have taken residence in my morning sitting room,” Korn says as he walks in to sit over on the couch with a cup of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in another, “Is your mother or one of your aunts around?”

Priyja is hesitant to answer. Uncle Arm made it clear to stay away from Korn if they could help it. He told them not to be disrespectful, but to never trust him.

But he seems nice enough at the moment. He isn't going off and telling Mama. Priyja supposes he can stay in their new tea party room for now.

But her opinion on him changes when he reaches for his phone in his pocket, “I will put out a notification and have a guard escort you back-”

“But we’re having fun!” Tida shouts, getting to her feet to stomp, “You're mean!”

Korn chuckles at that. Priyja has a feeling Korn secretly enjoys being mean.

They will need to handle this differently.

“ Sech vae toon unta makay,” she tells her, causing Korn to pause. He's probably pretty smart. Priyja can tell.

But he isn't as smart as them. When she glances over at the chess table by the window, she decides she is going to prove it.

“Come on!” She says, taking the paper away from him to pull on his hand, “We want to play chess with you!”

“It's our favorite!” Tida agrees, pushing at Korn's waist.

“For some reason, I feel like that isn't quite true,” Korn says, but seems okay with being moved towards the table, “However, if you would like me to teach you the basics, I would be happy to.”

Ugh. Grown-ups can be so annoying sometimes.

“Play,” Tida demands as she climbs up on the side with the black pawns. Priyja joins her on the chair and waits. Korn eventually learns his place and sits on the other side.

“The pawns can move one or two squares forward for the first move, but can only move one square after that,” Korn says pointlessly, moving his center pawn two pieces. Priyja holds back the desire to roll her eyes.

“He's really smart!” Priyja says to Tida instead, then grins, “Maro tolas minco alloine.”

As Tida grins back, Priyja knows they are on the same page. They make a couple of rookie moves at first - ones that likely surprise Korn. For some reason, he thought they couldn't actually play!

They’ll show him.

“Bast,” Priyja tells Tida. Tida must feel the same on the next move since she picks up the knight and immediately takes Korn's bishop. Korn briefly looks stunned, but also seems to be more aware of what he may be dealing with. His moves become more calculating and aggressive after that.

Priyja personally thinks he just comes off as silly.

“Kutch puck long,” Tida says, as if she doesn't know that already. Within three moves, Priyja captures Korn’s queen and lets out a squeal! Tida does as well and they both get up to dance out their victory.

“We won!” Tida says, shimmying over to Korn in her bare feet, her nightgown swaying back and forth, “We’re good at chess, huh?”

“We beat you, so that means this is our sitting room now,” Priyja says, dancing over to him as well, “You gotta say yes. It's the rules-”

“One more game,” Korn says, determination in his voice as he puts the pieces back in place. Priyja glances at Tida at that point. She doesn't know why Korn wants to lose again.

“How did you do that? I demand to know,” Korn asks them, almost sounding accusatory. He sort of sounds like Mama when they get into her makeup and wash it off before she can prove they actually did anything wrong.

“You're really funny!” Tida says with delight. Priyja bursts into giggles as well and they both come over to throw themselves over his lap and laugh into his knees.

Uncle Arm and everyone else said to be careful around Korn, but Priyja isn't scared of him at all. He is going to be so much fun to mess with. Priyja can't wait to beat him at every single game there is!

“Plya tarrondo goff,” Priyja says to her twin. As Tida nods in response, Priyja knows Tida is happy they moved here too.

[decaydancedeaddove]

more unhealthy petekey for you hehehehehehe

Asexual Pete and hypersexual Mikey. And they never talk about anything. Pete can’t even really explain why he feels like shit all the time bc I don’t think he’d think being ace was real. Add whatever you want onto it :3

-🪱

!!!! yes officer this post right here. okay. omg. okaY. first off worm anon ur mind i love this so bad and want to turn it into like a whole ass fic (lowkey i might, but that would mean i need to leak my ao3 here and uh…. i don’t know if i should??? idk yall lmk). anyway this shit is long and would probably be annoying to scroll past so i put it under a keep reading

Mikey’s lips were quick to attach to Pete’s, practically pouncing him as soon as Pete walked through the fucking door.

”Jesus—“ Pete murmured between sloppy kisses. He was distinctly aware he’s being lead somewhere, the two of them stumbling backwards in the hotel room, presumably to the bed. Mikey’s hands were everywhere, groping wherever he could.

The backs of his knees hit the bed, and Mikey was quick to push him down on to the bed, settling himself on Pete’s lap.

Pete should have been feeling differently about this. It wasn’t that he wasn’t into Mikey. Far from it— he was, in fact, extremely into Mikey. And having Mikey in his lap, clothed ass digging into his groin, should have been nothing short of a dream.

Mikey’s wry grin as he finally pulled away, lips shiny with spit, was enough to make Pete’s heart flutter.

But then he reached for Pete’s belt, and the moment sort of fizzled for him.

“Wait— shit, Mikes, baby—“ Pete cut him off, grasping his wrists gently.

Mikey tilted his head. “What? We can’t exactly do this with our pants on, y’know,” he pointed out (as he so frequently pointed out the obvious), gaze quizzical.

Pete slid his hands up to Mikey’s lithe hips, hoping the physical touch would appease him for a moment. It wasn’t like Pete didn’t enjoy physical touch, but Mikey seemingly craved it. “I just thought we could talk first.”

Mikey scrunched his nose for a moment, a facial tic Pete had a habit of noticing. “About what?”

”Uh,” Pete said dumbly, feeling suddenly put on the spot. “Anything, I guess,”

“We can talk about how I’ve got a semi right now and that I want you really fucking bad,” Mikey suggested crassly, leaning back down to kiss Pete again. His tongue slipped against Pete’s, demanding his attention.

To his credit, Pete would classify himself as at least pretty fucking good at making out. But knowing that it was just going to lead to sex made Pete hesitant and stiff.

Mikey, however, was oblivious to his hesitancy. Or maybe he knew, but was so horny that he didn’t much care.

Pete pretended like that didn’t make him feel awful.

They parted for air, dizzy and breathless. Mikey was unsubtly grinding on Pete’s lap, and God, Pete should have been more into this.

”Baby,” Pete whined, not really knowing what he was trying to say.

“Hm?”

“Lemme get you off,” It felt like a compromise. Pete could jerk him off while they made out, and maybe he would feel a little less wrong that way. The idea of being touched sexually was so unappealing at the moment, but he could at least make it good for Mikey.

Mikey nodded, reaching down for his own belt and undoing it. “God— needed to get these fucking jeans off,” He stood up for a moment, getting out of his gray jeans and pulling down his boxers with them. He was quick to settle back into Pete’s lap.

Having a lapful of ass-naked Mikey Way should have had Pete hornier than anything, but instead he just felt guilty. It was a disarming feeling, but Pete pushed those emotions away.

Mikey was rock hard, unsurprisingly. Pete reached between their stomaches, wrapping his hand around Mikey’s cock.

Pete jerked him off slowly, tilting his head up to kiss Mikey again. If he just focused on the feeling of Mikey’s lips against his, he wouldn’t feel so awful. Making out with Mikey was always enjoyable.

After a few moments, Mikey whined in the back of his throat, parting from Pete’s lips. “Babe, go faster,” He urged, followed by a quick kiss to his lips.

Pete obliged, watching as Mikey’s eyes fluttered shut, long lashes contrasting against his pale skin.

From that point, Pete’s actions became almost mechanical. He distantly recognized it as disassociation, but he did nothing to try and re-ground himself.

Mikey’s moans were distant to him.

God, why was he like this? Mikey deserved better than someone who couldn’t even bother being sexually interested in him. He couldn’t figure out why he felt this way. Despite the sleazy-ish rockstar persona he’d adopted, he really wasn’t interested in much past making out with people. He’d been like that throughout his whole life.

It was true, he’d had sex, many times, with many different people; men, women, it all felt the same. Part of him had managed to believe that it would feel right and natural with the one, whoever his soulmate was. But he was convinced that Mikey was, and it still felt… wrong.

Maybe it was his medication. He’d read somewhere that antidepressants could make it hard to orgasm, or get turned on in general. Maybe all he needed was to talk to his doctor and get a new prescription, and that would fix him? It was worth a shot, at least.

Mikey’s voice drew Pete out of his thoughts and back into the present. “Pete— babe, ohmygod—“ he whined, in a tone of voice that Pete distinguished as Mikey’s ‘I’m about to cum’ voice.

“Yeah baby, fuck, c’mon— please, cum for me,” Pete urged him, immediately snapping back into the moment. Though, he was definitely playing it up somewhat for Mikey.

Mikey’s brows knit together, a low moan escaping his lips as he came into Pete’s hand and on his shirt.

He panted, a little sweaty, and kissed Pete on the lips briefly. It was a breathless, sweet kiss, one that made butterflies erupt in Pete’s stomach.

”Sorry. I, uh, I got jizz on your shirt,” Mikey said, a light chuckle escaping him.

“Huh? Oh,” Pete looked down, and sure enough, it was staining the bottom of his black ‘Mikey Fuckin’ Way’ shirt. Pete tugged his shirt off over his head, not missing the way Mikey’s eyes roamed over his bare chest.

Immediately, Mikey leaned in for another kiss, this one more heated. Then, he yet again reached for Pete’s belt, this time undoing it successfully.

“I’m good, baby,” Pete breathed, stopping him. “I… I already came,” He lied. But with the wetness left from Mikey’s cum, it was a plausible enough lie.

Mikey’s lips twisted into a satisfied smirk, and Pete knew he’d bought it. “Is that so?”

Pete didn’t opt to lie to answer him, instead pressing his lips against Mikey’s hungrily.

They continued on like that for a few more moments, until Pete prompted: “C’mon, wanna have you in my arms,” Truthfully, he’d be more relaxed once they were merely cuddling.

Mikey, ever one for being cuddled, obliged without complaint, but not before turning off the bedside lamp and taking his glasses off. He slid under the covers, beckoning Pete over.

Pete sighed, tossing an arm around him. They lay there in silence for a little while, Pete shirtless and Mikey pantsless.

“I love you,” Pete whispered, pressing a kiss to Mikey’s cheek.

For a moment, there was just silence, making Pete wonder if Mikey had fallen asleep.

“I know you do,” Mikey said.

Once again, Pete pretended like that didn’t make him feel awful.

[boomerroomer]

A sneak peek! :)

Buddy rolled his when hearing that his cousin Cendy had once again landed himself in prison

Of course he did..this has to be the 9th time he's been arrested

Daisy: 10th time actually but yeah apparently he's gonna be stuck there for 18 months though considering Cendy he'll get another month

His twin sister responded over the phone with sounds of her movement in the background

That or Grandpa will bail him out

Daisy: true he did just come back from Florida for "business" so I guess it's possible

Buddy hummed in agreement as he changed his position into a more comfortable one behind the hospital counter

Even after over a month, Buddy was still shocked that he was able to be a practicing nurse in a small neighbourhood called Welcome Home he honestly thought because of his family's criminal past and how his grandpa and grandad were the most feared and powerful people in the mafia that his hard work to become a doctor would be for nothing He'll end up either working for his family or getting another job though Buddy had a feeling that he was accepted Because of his crazy family

A toothy grin spread across Buddy's lips as he remembered a bet they all made after Cendy was released from prison Speaking of jail how long did he last ag-

He didn't get to finish that sentence an annoyed groan from over the phone interrupted him

Daisy: yeah yeah I know well send you the damn money she snapped mumbling something under her breath Buddy couldn't make out but he assumed it was an insult

Oh don't be like that you know what Mom says about a sour loser Besides losing one time isn't gonna kill you

Daisy: oh shut up!

Buddy was about to respond but the words died on his lips when he saw Fanny, Bea, and Jonsey rushing to the front desk with a labouring Julie in the older brother's arms

Buddy: oh boy..hey listen I'll call you back a patient just came in he quickly said before hanging up

Bea: we need a doctor! Are sister is in labor!!

OK, OK, calm down. Everything is going to be fine. Can I get your information miss? I instinctively pressed a red button to call the nurse

Fanny: how the hell do you know!!??

Julie: Fanny! Calm down blond woman the hippie man's arms answered Buddy taking a deep breath each time she talked

Julie; m-my name is Julie Joyful and my husband is named Wally Darling or Wally Joyful I live in a neighbourhood called Welcome Home in the 5th house and my best friend is named fr-

Bea; Julie too much information She turned a bit redJulie: oops sorry I have a bad habit of that she sheepishly said flinching and holding her swollen stomach tightly as another contraction hit her

Oh, no need to apologize. Just keep breathing. How far are your contractions?

Fanny: every five minutes in 2 hours

Buddy frowned a mixture of worry and confusion clear on his face that was far too close to just coming to the hospital Why didn't you guys come much earlier

Fanny: oh, because this dumbass thought it was a good idea to get high on mushrooms while we were shopping for groceries!!??

Jonsey stayed quiet at this point as he was still under the effects of the mushroom, giggles softy and spoke up Jonsey: oh relax my dear sister it's not a big deal he slurred

Fanny: IT IS A BIG DEAL. YOU DIDN'T NOTICE JULIE WAS IN LABOR FOR HOURS UNTIL WE CAME BACK BECAUSE YOU TO BUSY TRIPPING!!

Bea quickly tried to calm her sister down so as not to have another public outburst under their belts but unfortunately, it was already too little too late as Fanny was already tearing Jonsey a new one

Buddy; mi-miss I unde-understand you are upset b-but this i-

Fanny; STAY OUT OF THIS Buddy flinched when Fanny yelled at him his tail twitching nervously as it was tucked behind his leg His anxiety grows more and more as the yelling continues he wants to try and calm the situation down but his feet feel like they are rooted in the ground and the words are stuck in his throat

thankfully A few nurses came in to get everything settled down and help Julie into a wheelchair then rushed to the labour and delivery room

Julie; I'm so sorry! Fanny is a nice person just...very opinionated

Ellie: oh don't worry about it was used to this by now you'll be surprised by how much drama can happen in a hospital he reassured me but did mumble..besides if my name was Fanny ill probably he short tempted too

----

As Julie was wheeled into a room that was big enough to have two patients, a look of surprise yet joy appeared on her face when she saw a familiar face

EDDIE!!

[imissaaronhotchner]

Convince Me

tw: smut smut smut minors DNI 18++

WC 1.4k

"Please Dave, I need this. I need something new!" you beg. Rossi shakes his head, "Y/L/N, I said no. It's not a good idea." You turned away from him as he went to leave for lunch, storming to in Hotch's office. "What do you need, Y/N?" he asks. "Dave is being an ass," you huff. "Y/L/N," he scolds.

"I know I know, but he won't recommend me to get a second class to teach from Strauss. Come on Hotch, you know I can take it." You look at him with the saddest eyes you can manage, hoping it will break him. "Why would I say yes if Dave already said no?" he asks you.

You groan, throwing your head back. You needed this, and you knew the only way to get Hotch to say yes was using the sexual tension that had been budding since you started at the BAU 3 years ago to your advantage. The two of you had practically been pining for each other the whole time.  "I'll beg," you smile. He lets out a low chuckle, "Yeah, for what?" You open your mouth but no words come out. You didn't expect him to say that. hell, you expected him to scold you not encourage you.

Turning you walked out of his office to find the bullpen completely empty, everyone had gone for lunch. You had plenty of time. You slowly walked back into his office, shutting and locking the door before closing the blinds. "What if I convince you?" you ask sweetly. "Y/N," he warned. You slowly rounded his desk, pushing his chair back. "If I win, you recommend me. If I lose, I never talk about it or this again," you say as you get on your knees between his legs.

"Y/N," he says as you wrap your hands around his belt. SLowly you unbuckle it, avoiding eye contact until you knew it would ruin him. You could feel him staring at you as his dick hardened. You pulled his zipper down slowly, as he lifted his hips so you could pull them down a little. You smiled to yourself, he was already giving in.

You pressed your mouth to him against his boxers, softly sucking as you felt him harden even more, straining against the briefs. He went to play with the waistband as you shook your head gently. You swatted his hand away, going to put your own hands down as you pulled away to push his boxers down. He lunged forwards pressing his dick against your mouth once again. You fought back a sarcastic remark as you glared up at him.

As much as you wanted to deny it your mouth salivated at the sight of him, rock hard in front of you. You wrapped a hand around the base of him, moving it slowly. He tried his best not to react, he was your boss for fucks sake. But you were the prettiest woman in the world to him, and seeing you stroke him slowly as if you had all the time in the world was torture.

"I would love it if you fucked me," you told him before going to lick his tip lightly. He clenched his jaw, turning to the side as if that would help any. You smiled before moving to take his balls in your mouth while running your thumb over his tip.

"Are you gonna put me in your mouth or not, Y/L/N?" he asks. You pull back with a shrug, starring at him heavy with want and need for you. You could feel yourself getting wet, almost needing to bring your fingers down to helo yourself first. As you were distracted licking the tip lightly he shoved your head down, making you gag around him pushing him back. "If you can't handle this, handle me, just say so sweet girl." he chuckles.

It shouldn't have annoyed you, him being a smartass, that's just how he was with you. Yet you still wrapped your lips around him, sucking lightly before letting your jaw fall loose. Taking him in your mouth, going down halfway and coming back up, going a little further each time you went down. You hollowed your cheeks, whining every time he grazed the back of your throat.

Hotch's breathing got heavier, sweat touching his skin. He was still fighting an internal battle not to be hard for you. He didn't want to react but having you on your knees for him was too much. You pulled your mouth off of him to give his dick a few sloppy kisses, as you smiled at him. He wanted to pull you up onto his desk and fuck you right then and there, he just didn't want to care.

Feeling confident as he kept reacting you went back in, it was as if he had gotten bigger, harder, than the last time. You bopped your head, swirling your tongue around him. You craved him and you didn't want to. This is just for the class, you tried reminding yourself but you knew there was more to it.

His hands came up to cup your cheeks, silently begging for you to let him fuck your throat. He wanted to shove himself in there until you were choking, tears running down your cheeks. HE wanted you to scream at him to stop, to let you breathe.

You pulled away so only the tip was in your mouth, putting your hands behind your back. You looked at him with wide eyes, daring him to do some damage. "Fuck, come here," he groaned as he gathered your hair, pushing it back. "Tight little throat, you want me to choke you with it?" he asked as he trusted into your mouth. You did your best attempt at nodding. You could come just from him talking like this.

You tried breathing through your nose. but focusing on that felt impossible when you could feel him sliding down your throat. You kept taking him, again and again, your throat constricting against his dick. He took one hand down to your neck, pressing it so he could feel himself in there. You feel the tears forming, ready to fall at any moment. This is what he wanted, you ruined for him. He was fucking your throat, and he was being manic about it.

He left himself in your mouth until you were pushing him away, your mouth and his dick a mess. "I want to taste your cum," you told him. He let out a moan, almost losing it then. He never thought it would happen but here you were, getting ready to suck him again.

You start sucking hastily on the head when there's a knock on his door. He pushes you under his desk before moving his chair to hide you. You hear Rossi enter the room, "Have you seen Y/N? I'm worried she went to bug Strauss about that class she wants to teach." You smile at yourself, something of the sort Rossi. "Oh no," Hotch starts before you start to suck him again. He kicks you under the table, "I haven't seen her in a few hours." Dave says a quick thank you before leaving.

"You think that was cute?" Hotch growls as he pulls you both away from the desk. You shrugged, going back to suck him focussing on licking the head. You scratched his thighs with your nails before going to fondle his balls.

"Oh fuck," he grunts.

You almost squealed in excitement, only sucking harder as he started to thrust erratically. "Does that feel good?" you asked as you pulled away to pump him.

He tilts his head to the side, letting out a little whine, "Fuck yeah, Y/N"

You started pumping him faster, licking his tip a few times. "Are you gonna cum for me?"

"Yes."

"Will you recommend me for the class?" you smile.

"Yes, fuck," he says. He wasn't listening. He didn't care he just wanted your mouth around him again. That's how you win. You started sucking on him again, harder this time

He thew his head back, gripping his desk, when he felt himself starting to cum. "Stop fuck,' he groaned. You ignored him, only sucking harder and scratching his thighs again. "If you don't stop I'm gonna cum" he moaned.

You lifted up your skirt, giving him a good view of your ass before taking him all the way in again. He threw his head back and groaned, grabbing your hair. With a grunt he came in your mouth, hard, spilling everything he had into your mouth. You pulled off of him to make sure none of it fell. You swallowed, sticking your tongue out to show him. He groaned before pulling his pants on.

"I'm getting you back for this later," he warns. "Counting on it." you say with a smile

[futureplayboibunnie]

Reader and doctor strange are competitive rivals in the mystic arts, always testing each other, teasing, and trying to one up the other. During a fight with a real enemy, reader takes a blow that almost kills her, forcing Stephen realize how much he cares for her. After reader is all healed up, immediately after the fight, Stephen and reader have some really rough “almost died, but somehow survived, reaffirming sex”.

‘Hex’

Dr Strange x fem!reader

I LOVE THIS IDEA THANK U SMMM NONNIE HOPE I DID U JUSTICE <3

SLUTTY SMUT SLUT SO MDNI

Maybe it was your inability to take criticism, maybe it was your incessant whining, maybe it was yout lack of respect regarding authority figures, maybe it was because…you were better than Stephen.

You were good, a natural flair, picking up spells and rituals like a seasoned pro and it rattled Stephen's nerves as well as angering him beyond all degrees. You practised all those spells and rituals through illigitimate means of course, sneaking glances and pages from prohibited spell books way above your level. Stephen hated your undying need to break all the rules. You never played fair.

Starting your training around the same time, you immediately pitted yourselves against each other like two animals at a rotting carcass. You were both dying to be better, to do better and to prove your competence but you just had to play and fight dirty. You constantly tested his patience through embarrassing him; quick flicks of your fingers ended up in Stephen having his cloak disappearing, his sling ring stolen, and to top it all off, his belt. He wondered why you always took his belt. When he inevitably notices, he turns his head to see you leaning in a corner with a dirty smirk plastered on your face and he hated seeing you so smug.

An instance that did leave him more annoyed than usual was when he caught his stare lingering longer than it should have.

—-

Stephen thought he'd tear a page out of your book and practise one of the spells that was limited to the Sorcerer Supreme only. It was late at night, far too deep into the darkness for anyone else to be awake at such an hour. His face canvased side to side in the library and it was ambiently lit by a few lanterns and candles, no one was here. Stephen traced the ridges of the spine of the ancient spellbook, he opened the sheets, sat down and began reading.

'It's 2am and you're still not out of your robes?'

Stephen darted his face upward and found you leaning on the door frame, arms crossed condescendingly. His mouth dried slightly as he found you wearing nothing but an oversized shirt. Nothing underneath. He slammed the book shut in response.

'Whatcha reading?' You smiled, sauntering over to him. You snatched the book instantly from his hands.

'Hey, give it.' Stephen stood up to try and pry it away from your greedy little hands but all you could shoot him was a knowing look. You tiptoed away from him and he followed you like a lost puppy.

'Ohhh Spells of Sorrow, Hexxing and Obsession. That's a little above your paygrade.’ You insulted as you read the contents; you'd practiced these spells before but never on another person, to find that Stephen was about to break a sneaky little rule thrilled you. Rich boy turned rebellious. He grasped the book from you again and you peered up at him like an inquisitive annoying child. God if only he knew you were flirting with him, even though the man was a genius he was so oblivious to your ministrations. You hated him but you couldn't help but flirt with him because it winds him up like no other.

'As if you haven't done the same." He shot back at you.

'Touché.’ You inched closer to him, he turned his head and his eyes couldn't help but be cast down to your bare legs. Stephen felt like he was seeing something he wasn't meant to see.

'What are you doing wandering around?' He asked.

'Couldn't sleep, heard some rumbling from my room. You?'

'Trying to beat your ass at spell casting.' He half joked but he was dead serious on wanting to be better than you but it was proving to be quite a challenge.

'What, with this?' Your bready eyes latched onto the book he was still holding onto, your mitts held onto it instantly again. 'You trying to "'sorrow'' me to death?' The push and pull of it all really messed with his head, you two were pulling on the book like two children wanting the same toy.

'Let go.' Stephen warned but you instinctively ignored it.

'You first.' You strained.

As you were inching away from Stephen, you thought you'd gained the upper hand the way a sly smirk was toying on your lips but with one swift tug, Stephen pulled you and you collapsed into his chest. You blinked up dumbly at him once your eyes met his. His stare was anything but welcoming, though he did look confused the way his eyebrows creased. He wondered what would happen if he let go of the book and wrapped his arms around your waist instead.

It definitely would be one way to get you compliant.

To your dismay, Stephen stepped back and let you go. You regained your composure once more and shook the feelings you had for Stephen off.

"Sleep. Now.' He demanded sternly and you weren't in the mood for fighting.

‘Fine.' You made your way back to your room and left him alone in the library once again.

———

You were dreading the mission the day promised. You and Stephen would inevitably test each others patience and you would make it your own personal mission to tease him out of his focus, something that he despised was being out of focus.

You were tampering with grounds that daren't be crossed.

'You remember what we need to do?'

'Quick recon. Kill bad guys, save hostages blah blah blah. I've got it Stephen.' You huffed, you were so tired of Stephen never trusting you and seeing you as his perpetual enemy even though you were on the same team. He saw you as heartless when all you cared about was saving the hostages and ensuring their safety.

Stephen twirled his fingers to form a portal and you shoved yourself through it, the building was metallic, cold, echoey and spacious. It felt very unwelcoming to yours and Stephen's presence. Your ears quirked at the pained groans and muffles of the people you assumed were the hostages that were caught up in all of this. You and Stephen split up to canvas the building and to find them; dead end after dead end until you found them in one of the cold rooms...they were.. kids?

This changes everything. There was more at stake now. They couldn't be more than 7 or 8, blinking up at you in fear as they were huddled in a corner. One of the boys stood up and made his way to stare up at you vacantly.

'Are you going to hurt us?' The boy questioned blankly, it looked like he'd seen a ghost- even his eye colour was pale.

'Stephen!'

He rushed his way to where you were, only to have his mouth open in shock at what he was witnessing. Stephen didn't know how to deal with a situation as sensitive as this, he didn't know how to handle children and the fact that their lives were in his hands made an unnerving shiver course through his shoulder blades.

'Oh God.' He sighed through a mumble, eyes heavy in the pressure all of this amounted to.

'No, no, honey. We're hear to rescue you. We'll get you safe, just hold on.' You bent down to whisper softly at him before ultimately perching him up in your arms and carrying him so his head was on your shoulder.

'Stephen we need to get them to a hospital now, they're all so malnourished and thin...they haven't eaten in days.' This was the first time Stephen noticed how concerned your face was, most times you'd never let these missions get to you but it seemed that your soft spot was children. He cocked his head and he studied how well you were interacting with them.

You gave Stephen a hard look and he was just staring at you like an idiot, even more so when you handed him the kid to hold. His eyes darted from you to the kid and he felt so lost in his mind he couldn't register any of his surroundings.

You swirled your hands and conjured a portal to a nearby hospital, Stephen slowly pushed the boy he was holding through the portal to ensure everyone that it was safe to enter. The nurse that was witnessing all of this happened gasped as she dropped her clipboard, she gathered the other nurses to collectively round up all the children and help them. Once you ushered everyone through the nurse mouthed a 'thank you' as you closed the portal.

Stephen gawked at you in pure awe. He'd never noticed this sort of compassion you were able to harbour for other people before. His moment was ruined however as he heard the static of a walkie talkie. 'Backup we need backup, the building has been breached.’

A gunfire ripped through the air before Stephen could attack the goon. His reaction time was too slow. Stephen conjured a knife in his hand and flew it at his chest, he was on the floor bleeding in half the time. What Stephen failed to notice was that you were leaning on his side. Bleeding out.

He shot at you. A bullet was planted above your chest and Stephen's face paled at the influx of information. You heard the shuffling of feet and immediately feared the worst, your eyelids were heavy with pain and your body was failing you already. You felt weak as the blood seeped through your skin.

'We need to go..back. Now.' You breathed out raggedly and for once Stephen listened to you. He pushed you through a portal so you were back at the Sanctum and you had never been more relieved to see the ancient walls.

You were latched onto Stephen's arm and you had never realized how thick his bicep was, you were sure the blood was rushing out of your head the way you felt so woozy. He rushed you into his room and you were stunned at the artifact adorned walls and the abysmal amount of clasical literature his room had. No one was ever allowed in his room...you felt incredibly special at such treatment. He placed you down on his bed and all you could do was let out a pained grunt, the gaping hole that was inhibiting your flesh made you see specks of white in your eyeline. Until everything turned black.

Once Stephen had made the bleeding stop and patched you up, he was pacing his room. The mere thought of you not waking up made his heart dip and twinge in pain. He was out of his robes now, it had been so long until he heard your voice; he changed into something comfier.

A startled gasp escaped from your throat and Stephen's eyes were fixed on you, hoping to dear God that you were okay. Your palm met your forehead as you perched yourself up and grunted in pain, your eyes were bleary from sleep and once you opened them.. your periphery was Stephen, a worried expression was etched all over his face. What a weird sight to wake up to.

'You're awake.' Stephen commented.

'Shit, what time is it?' You mumbled.

'It's 11 at night. You've been out for three hours.' Stephen sat at the foot of the bed to gaze at you. Your eyes widened as the strain of your mind started to wain away.

'Are the kids okay?' Your voiced wavered in worry as paled eyes met his, a weird kind of energy swang through the air and it made him feel uneasy in your presence. Probably because he's seen you at your most vulnerable. No one had seen you like this...except for him.

'They're still at the hospital, they're fine.' Stephen's heart warmed at your sigh of relief.

The intense eye contact and the immense silence made you view him in a different light, his eyes were soft in his gawk and his eyebrows weren't creased. It confused you to why he was so worried about you when he made his distaste for you very clear. Stephen's eyes fell to your lips, they were parted now as your head cocked to the side. You always made this face when you were about to say something insulting.

'You're not good with kids, are you?' You winced. Even when there's a literal hole in your body you still found it in yourself to flirt with him.

'Never thought about having any.' He replied softly.

'Maybe we could make some.’ You blurted without thinking, creasing your eys playfully. He caught a glimpse of your pearly whites gnawing at your bottom lip and he couldn't help but smirk as he stood up from his seat.

'You just got shot, sweetheart.' He quirked his eyebrow up at you, unnoticing of the pet name he just called you...it just came out.

Sweetheart? Your insides gushed at the pet name and you thought that maybe. just maybe...you were starting to crack through him.

'I'm fine.' You shot back, staring up at him through challenging eyes as he was beginning to fawn over you.

'I'm not. You could've....I didn't save vou from it-' Stephen cut himself off as if the rememberence of the memory wounded him, the light flashing from your eyes and the soak of blood everywhere pained him more than anything. He didn't care for you...he was just sympathetic...wasn't he?

'If it wasn't for you I would be dead Stephen, cut yourself some slack. Is this your twisted way of making me feel sorry for you?'

'No.' He huffed out a laugh and the silence became tangible once more.

A delicious idea pinged in your mind.

"Can I use your bathroom?' You asked him.

"Uh, yeah sure.’

You stood yourself up and sauntered to his en suite with an undeniable pep in your step before locking yourself in. Stephen groaned and plopped to the side of the bed that was facing the en suite; his elbows planted into the tops of his legs as he buried his face in his hands, waiting for you like a dog with a bird at thedoor. You stared at yourself in the mirror, his bathroom was finely crafted with gold and marble trims and it was so irrevicably Stephen.

You felt so worn out. Undoing your hair from its confines, a wild mane cast down from your scalp and you ruffled it out with the tips of your fingers. Undoing your layers of clothing, the bareness of your skin was becoming increasingly prominent bar from your bra and panties. You just wanted to let Stephen know that you were okay and there was only one way to show him that. You shimmied your underwear down your legs and unclasped your bra and left the two articles of clothing as a present for only him to find. With a sly smirk, you left them in his cologne drawer. Your nerves were wiring out as your hand found the door handle. You finally gave in and swung it open.

It took Stephen a second to register what was going on as he was completley absolved in his own thought, his head darted up and his eyes were immediately fixated on you. A plague of realization hit his face as hard as a brick, his mouth dried and popped open slightly at the mere sight of you, the wound adorning your skin like a bejweled battle scar. You made your way towards him until you were standing right infront of him. His eyeline was just your body, until his eyes connected with yours. The big vast blue blinking up at you like a dumbfounded idiot as he was unsure as to what was going on; your fingers traced the outline of his face and the pad of your thumb soothed the skin of his cheek.

'I'm okay. Really. I just want to show you I am, Stephen. Can I?' Your voice was as sweet as honey and your touch was as soft as velvet. You sat yourself on his lap and he let his arms wrap around you. His hot laboured breath was fanning your cheeks as you cradled his face in both hands.

'I don't know if I can live with myself if I let you get hurt again.' He whispered.

Your heart twitched in pain at the sentiment, the fact that there was so many bubbling feelings brewing between you two made your brain turn to mush. Your fingers had a mind of their own the way they travelled to his zipper.

"Shh please. Just let me show you how much I want you.' You breathed desperately, eyebrows tensing in pure need. He reached behind his back to rid himself of his shirt as your hand tugged his cock out of his pants and boxers.

The breahtless gasps that were escaping Stephen's throat was like music to your ears, your slender hands rubbed the aching fleshthat was growing between his thighs. Stroking him and smearing the pre cum that was sitting at the tip made him lose his mind. The fact that you had his hands on him by any means was driving him mad and. he was seriously stifling the urge to take control but no, you were reaffirming him...you were treating him. Stephen stopped your hands from working their magic as he shattered his lips on yours, eyes screwed shut and mouths fastened together like you would both die if you let go. Your mouth tasted like heaven, so warm and inviting. Honeysuckle and crushed cherries, a potent and heady combination he found himself drying to taste more.

Tongues banding together, the sloppy wet kisses were becoming more desperate and needy the way Stephen's hands were tugging at your hair.

'I need you so bad.' He muttered against your lips, eyes heavy and clouded by desire. You ruffled up his once neat salt and pepper hair.

Enough was enough, you wanted him in you. Mounting yourself on him, his cock slid into you through the wetness that was evident since he called you sweetheart. He groaned in tense pleasure in addition to the crease of his brows. You moaned into his skin as you began slowly grinding yourself onto him. Sex had never felt this sensual and intimate to him before. The intertwining of the hatred and the pining made this moment even more intoxicating. His cock was ramming into you as you slowly bounced on him, the prolonged eye contact was intense and unwavering and made him that much more needy for you- the fact that you were both so desperate to make each other feel so good.

'Dear God- you're so...Stephen!' You could barely string a sentence together you were fucking each other so well. His fingers pulled at your hair relentlessly.

'It was like you were made for me.' Stephen let out a gutteral groan and the admission made a rush of adrenaline swing through your body, you finished on him with a scream and doing that made him follow suit. Your body convulsed and it was all because of him. The mere image of him was like a potent drug.

You were both breathing out like panting animals, your eyes were cast down as you giggled at the fact he was still in you. He smiled at such a sweet reaction.

‘What?' He tried to stifle his shit eating grin.

"You sure you didn't hex me with that spellbook?' You bit your lip bashfully and it made Stephen have stars in his eyes

'You're asking me that while I'm literally still inside you?'

——-

[just-some-random-blogger]

i wont go home without you

Jay Park x Idol!Reader

Summary: Jay has had a crush on you for years, but you were always too busy or out of reach for him. But now that he's got you walking around his company because of your collaboration with Simon Dominic & Mokyo, he thinks it's a good time as ever to get the show on the road.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: Pining, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: idk why i felt really inspired to write this but here you go! I hope you enjoy it @bird-pinkxx lol i hope i dont have too many typos i havent gone through this yet.

I open the door and poke my head inside the studio. I break into a smile when I see Ssam-D and Mokyo staring into the bright screen wordlessly while arranging some .

"Ooohhh, so serious," I tease as I walk in. The two turn to me and I hold up some iced coffee drinks, "want to spill this all over the mixing panel?"

Mokyo chuckles while Simon Dominic clicks his tongue, "ya, you really know how to drive Jay nuts."

I knit my brows as I hand them the beverages, "this has literally nothing to do with him, but okay."

"Ya, everything you do here has everything to do with him. He owns the floor you're standing on."

I narrow my eyes at him, "okay? What do you want me to do, levitate?"

Mokyo snorts at that as he gets his share and passes Ssam-D the other, "he's trying to be a wingman for Jay." He sips on his drink, "he came in a minute ago, thinking you were here, then played it off and left when you weren't."

"Right," Ssam-D agrees, sipping on his drink, "he's so stupid when he's around you. It was cute at first," Kiseok sighs, "now it's so annoying."

I purse my lips and shrug, "again... not sure what I'm supposed to do with that information."

Kiseok takes a big gulp then pulls the straw away from his lips, "what do you think of him anyway?"

"Wah," I shake my head and raise my hands, "I think he's Jay Park."

Mokyo makes a dramatic pained sound and places a hand on his left rib cage. I raise a brow at that and narrow my eyes. I proceed to shove him just as he's about to take a sip. He pulls his cup away and looks at me with wide eyes, "Ya! What would you did if this gets on the equipment?!"

I click my tongue and give him a look, "make Jay daddy pay for it, obviously."

Kiseok wheezes and cackles at that , nearly shooting out of his seat in amusement. I break into a chuckle as Mokyo snorts.

"But seriously, I don't you like him, even just a little bit?" Kiseok inquires.

I take a moment to respond, "I mean, we don't really talk much and I personally don't like guys who can't even admit they like me, you know."

Kiseok nods his head slowly at that. Mokyo agrees, "Fair."

The three of us brainstorm and talk about our ideas and vision for our collaboration. We've been going through stuff all day now and only just had a break. For a while, we take turns discussing our thoughts, then we begin to freestyle verses.

Having had a eureka moment, I am promptly told to go into the booth and record the tune we suddenly thought of.

I walk into the room, put the headphones on and practice the bars we got. I pull out my phone and go over the lyrics we made. I repeat it a couple times and do some spontaneous riffs.

"Wah!" I hear an exclaim.

I look outside the booth and see their looks of astonishment. Mokyo chimes in, "can you repeat that again?"

"This one?" I ask and proceed to repeat what I did last.

I am quickly praised and encouraged.

The minutes melt like seconds as I'm singing my heart out to this improv. I have only one side of the headphones against my ear and I close my eyes as I throw my head back and belt.

I nod each time I get a signal to repeat, redo, or tweak something but keep my eyes fixed on my phone, typing away the pointers I'm given.

By the time I'm done, I finally look out the booth and shape my hands into a heart. Only then do I notice Jay is outside smiling back at me with the other two in his label.

"Great job," Kiseok praises, raising a thumb, " I got chills when you did the riffs."

Mokyo agrees and so does Jay. I break into a laugh and shake my head, but nonetheless thank them.

I turn to Jay, who was already looking at me, "oh, you're here? When did you come in?"

"In the best moment, I think, when you were going over the end of the verse," he says with a grin.

"Oooh, I really like that part too."

Simon Dominic and Mokyo exchange looks, the former clears his throat, "yeah. I think we're good for today. We can contine tomorrow."

I nod, placing a hand on my belly, "I'm starving. It feels like I didn't have lunch."

Concerned, Jay's eyebrows quirk, "you didn't have lunch?"

"No, I said it feels like it," I click my tongue, "I had lunch, but these two stayed back and recorded some rap lines."

Jay lets out a breath. Mokyo defends himself, "we ate a big breakfast!"

I roll my eyes, "and you should have ate your shoes while I ate a sandwich for lunch."

"How about we," Jay raises his hands and claps them together, "all have dinner together? My treat."

The two of them instantly agree but I don't, which is why all eyes fall on me. I hesitate, "I don't know."

"Ah ya," Kiseok scolds, "you're not going to skip dinner on my watch."

"Trust me I won't. I just have an early schedule tomorrow and I know you'll all be drinking and I'd rather not drink and be shitfaced the next day."

Jay doesn't miss a beat when he responds, "I won't drink either."

The three of us turn to him. Mokyo snorts. Kiseok calls him out.

I take a moment to respond before ultimately shrugging and agreeing.

On our way to the restaurant, Jay does nothing but compliment me as he drives. Although the three of us decided to sit back and make it look like Jay was our driver, he didn't mind and still went out of his way dote about everything, from my appearance, to my singing, to my career, to my personality, to downright things that he probably only just thought of in the spur of the moment, like being able to put up with Simon Dominic and Mokyo at the same time.

I mean, I don't know what they're like around him but they aren't that insufferable.

We promptly arrive to a restaurant and walk in.

We arrive at a table and Jay pulls out my chair for me. I thank him, adding a polite smile.

"Ya," Kiseok kicks Jay after helping me sit down, "quit it. It's too much."

Jay turns to him and breaks into a chuckle, "ya, you're the one who said our vocal star likes dudes who are upfront about their emotions and I'm about to show everyone just how upfront I can get."

Mokyo sighs and sits down next to me.

Jay turns to him, "Ya."

I turn to Jay and Ssam-D, "of course you two talked about me."

Kiseok clicks his tongue in annoyance, "the idiot won't shut up about it. I had to throw him something."

The two sit down. Jay decides to sit in front of me after Mokyo's adamance to staying in his seat.

"So," Jay leans in, elbows resting on the table, "are you seeing anyone?"

I snort. The other two collectively groan.

"I'm sure you can be seen just fine," says Mokyo.

I can't help but mirror Jay's actions though, placing my elbows on the table, "I'm not."

Jay dramatically leans back and places a hand on his chest, "wah, my heart just skipped a beat after being so near your pretty face."

Mokyo is disgusted. Kiseok is oddly endeared and can't help but grin at the interaction.

I decide to jest, "Too bad the feelings aren't mutual."

Jay leans forward and taps the table with his finger, "how do I make the feelings mutual then?"

"Good evening, are you ready to order?"

We turn to the waitress and I break into a smile, "Chicken and ice cream."

Jay firmly pats the table then points, "okay, chicken and ice cream for my future lover."

"That's it," Mokyo pushes himself back and stands, "I'm fucking leaving."

"Ya, Choi Myung-hwan," I turn to him and catch his shirt in my fist, "sit down."

Mokyo sits down.

Jau randomly blurts, "that was hot."

It's Kiseok's turn, "Ya!" he breaks into a chuckle but then makes an annoyed sound, "how was that hot."

Jay doesn't spare him a look and smacks his lips, "well a hot person said it."

For the first time in our banter, I find my cheeks tingle at his comment. I clear my throat and motion to the lady standing by our table, "ya, she's been waiting for our order for five years."

The rest of the night continues like this. Jay says something cheesy, the two grow more annoyed, and I grow a little bit more willing to hear him out more.

By the time we finish eating, Jay purposefully calls out that he's only driving me home. I'm about to protest, but the two quickly agree that there was no way they were going to listen to Jay's compliments for me any longer.

The lack of people present in the ride back, partner with me now sitting in front out of courtesy made the first few moments of the drive a little awkward. Jay was quick to lighten up the mood though.

"Now, imma be real with you," Jay says, eyes fixed on the road as he makes a turn, "you drive me insane cause I have to actually will myself to be confident around you. You get it? I will myself to be confident."

I turn to him as he says this.

He continues, "I don't know what it is about you. Maybe the fact I've know you for a long time and yet we don't really talk, or maybe it's cause every time I see you have another great comeback after another great comeback and you just look prettier than ever."

I bring my hand to my lips in an attempt to hold back a smile.

Jay turns to me and catches this, chuckling at that, "gosh you don't know how elated I am to have you finally acknowledge my presence."

"Ya. Why are you acting like I've been ignoring you?"

Jay raises a brow, "well I couldn't get one good conversation out of you before, so it's just as good as being ignored."

I roll my eyes, "so dramatic."

Jay scrunches his nose, "so cute. Gah. A big part of my brain is yelling that I shouldn't go home without you but I don't play like that-- unless you want to, of course."

I clear my throat and cross my arms, "save that for another time."

I am taken aback by Jay suddenly bursting out laughing and gripping his fists in victory, "hell yeah! Here's to another time coming soon!"

[romantiqueofthemind]

Wearing Your Shirt

Sorry I’ve been inactive recently guys! School has been crazyyy and I’ve been writing like crazyyy. I promise there are things coming soon! But in the meantime whilst you wait for part 3 of Dreaming of You, here is a smutty imagine I wrote at 3am!

Warnings: 18+ ONLY Smut, Daddy Kink, Spanking, Thigh Riding, Fingering, Breeding Kink, Fluff at the end if you squint

Word Count: 1.1k

The moment you heard the lock click and the doorknob turn your heart sunk slightly. You were annoyed. More than annoyed, you were sexually frustrated as fuck. You stood in the main room with your arms crossed and an annoyed look on your face. Austin however greeted you with a hug and leaned down to kiss you. What is usually a more intimate kiss whenever he comes home, this one was short and somewhat bittersweet as you pulled away from him almost instantly. He looked at you with a confused look on his face. “Baby? What’s wrong?” He asked in his low soothing voice trying to console you.

You’re sexually frustrated and express this to Austin. Explaining that you haven’t had good sex with him in a while because he’s been so busy with work. He pulls you closer and his fingers ghost your heat which gets you even more annoyed and you practically demand him to touch you as you place his hand between your legs and kiss him. You ask him to choke you softly which he does. All of this making you ache for him. “Daddy spoils you baby. You know that?” “You’re daddy’s little brat.” “If you want to act like a spoiled brat I’ll treat you like one.”

He picks you up and takes you to the bedroom you two share and sits on the edge of the bed, bending you over his lap. He pushes your shorts and panties up and out of the way and spanks you harder than you were expecting making you jump and whimper. He does this a few more times before pulling you up on his lap and asking you “How many was that baby?” You softly curse yourself under your breath since you weren’t keeping track and before you know it you’re bent back over on his lap and whimper more and more as he spanks you a few more times. “How many was that baby?” He asked again. “N-nine.” You mutter out. Austin hums in approval before spanking you one more time harder than he had previously causing you to let out a slight cry at the stinging feeling. He tossed you on the bed and started undressing you taking off your shorts and your panties. He stopped when he noticed you take off your shirt. “Baby? Are you wearing my shirt?” He asked. His voice sounded calm and not nearly as aggressive. Still hesitant you nod and hand it to him. “Sorry baby, I like wearing your shirts. They’re comfortable.” Austin smirks before unbuttoning his work shirt and tossed it to you. “Here you go baby. You can wear this one.” You looked up at him slightly confused. “Honey, this is your work shirt. Why do-“ “Put it on baby.” He said sternly cutting you off. Without question you did as he requested, earning a smirk from your boyfriend as he looked you up and down in the white button down he had worn.

He fingers you on all fours, you push back against his hand, then he gets the idea for you to sit on his lap and ride his fingers as he curled them up inside you. You ride his thigh and fingers as he pulls you in and kisses you deeply. “Such a needy little brat for daddy’s fingers. Making you want to cum already baby?” All you can do is nod and ride his fingers faster and harder feeling the knot in your stomach get tighter and tighter as it became harder and harder to control. You eventually cave, and let your orgasm wash over you as you remain still. Austin’s fingers still pushing into you slowly to ride you through your orgasm. He places his hand on your jaw and pulls you close to where your lips are barely touching and he says “Did I say you could cum yet kitten?” You nod and before you know it, you’re tossed on the bed again once again on all fours and your stomach drops when you hear Austin take off his belt and pants. You whimper and jolt your body forward when you feel the sudden sting and heat of leather on your bare bottom.

Austin finally begins to fuck you hard and rough, dirty talking you through it. “You’re so fucking needy aren’t you baby? You missed getting fucked by daddy’s cock so good?” At this point all you could do was moan and nod your head into the pillow, you’re spine beginning to ache slightly from how arched it had been for such a long time. Before long Austin was burying himself inside you, moans and profanities leaving his lips as he loved the feeling of being this deep inside you. “Such a good girl taking all of daddy’s cock. God, you feel amazing baby. I’m so fucking lucky.” He said before smacking his hand back down onto your bottom. You could feel him getting closer and closer and you were trying your best to hold in your overwhelming orgasm but with each hard thrust Austin gave, it became harder and harder.

“Fuck Austin..baby I’m going to cum!” You whimpered out from beneath him, noticing his pace quickened for a moment once you said that. “Not yet baby. You can hold it a little bit longer.” He replied his voice sounding softer and not as intimidating as it had been. Your legs were beginning to shake as you started mewling into the pillow softly. “So fucking perfect for me baby. You’re so beautiful. I love you so much. You make me want to give you my last name and…Fuck…have my babies!” Austin moaned as his body stiffened and you moaned into the pillow finally letting your orgasm wash over you. The feeling of Austin coming inside you was enough to send you over the edge and had your body shaking. Austin pulled out gently and nearly collapsed onto his side of the bed next to you. His chest rising and falling rapidly as a thin layer of sweat coated his body. You too were trying to catch your breath as you cuddled up next to him and almost instantly falling asleep.

You felt Austin kiss your head gently and whisper to you “I love you so much baby. I meant every word about wanting to start a life with you, marry you.” Your eyes were closed but you could feel tears slightly dampen your lashes but you just held him closer and replied “I love you too Austin.” Before the both of you finally relaxing and drifting off to sleep in each other’s arms.

[haruhey]

Mind If I Join You?

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

Established Relationship Fluff | Smut

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

the request:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

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

Oh.

Yeah, you get why he was hesitating now.

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

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

“And who exactly did you hear that from?”

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

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

“It matter?”

So nobody, probably.

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

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

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

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

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

“Does that feel better?”

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

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

“You’re too damn good to me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What- what are you doing?”

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

“What’s it look like ‘m doin’?”

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

“D-Daryl- what would your girl say.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, that fucking prick.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“N-no, wait- I gotta-“

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

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

You don’t need to keep-

You can just-

I can-

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

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

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

“I thought you were tired.”

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

“Never too tired for you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Give it to me.

Give it to me.

Give it to me.

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

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

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

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

“‘S alright. It felt good.”

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

“Anythin’ ya do feels good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut- shut up.”

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

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

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

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

“C’mon, we ain’t got all night.”

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

“Then- then do better, Daryl.”

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

Daryl’s so fucking happy you bite back.

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

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

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

“Are you g-gonna take it up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Here, let me- I’ll help ya wash up.”

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

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

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

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

“Yes, sir!”

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

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

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

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

Hopefully.

“You coming?”

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

“Thank you.”

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

“For lettin’ me, uh, do that.”

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

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

“Anything for you.”

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

“I’m glad you’re home.”

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

“Glad ‘m home too.”

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

It was good to be back.

Back to a home he had made with you.

──── ⋙ 

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[sugarylawliet]

In Death Note, you know the part where the L placed spy cams everywhere within Yagami’s house?

What if Light and his girlfriend start doing the deeds to look like normal hormones teens?

YES OMG i’ve actually thought of this before so i’m so glad someone requested it LMFAO

> warnings: swearing, smut, degradation, sir kink, kind of exhibition??

  Light tossed his backpack onto his bed, loosening his red tie before collapsing onto the bed himself, letting his exhaustion express itself in the most natural way he thought possible. It’s hard to act natural when you’re being watched; you almost forget every aspect of your daily routine, putting excessive thought into typically mindless tasks like walking around your house or laying on your bed to the point of obviousness. 

“Light, wanna play video games?” Ryuk asked, standing before the boy.

Light fell back onto his bed, placing his hands behind his shoulders with a deep sigh. Closing his eyes, he prepared for the performance he’d have to put on. How could he ignore Ryuk without giving off reactions to the shinigami’s words, tilts of the head or instinctive hums of agreement that could incriminate himself in a matter of seconds.

“You listening? Hello?” 

Light only ignored him, grabbing a long beige coat from the closet before heading outside, Ryuk following close behind.

“Hey, Light, what’s with the brushing off? I’m starting to get annoyed.”

He popped his collar and rolled up his sleeves, checking meticulously for any bits of wire or chips of plastic that could be audio bugging him. 

“Light! Hey!” Ryuk wined.

“There might be secret hidden cameras around the house,” The brunette broke the silence, his voice in a slightly raspy lowered tone, almost a whisper, “Or microphones, probably both.” He explained, going on to detail his clever methods of finding out if someone had been in his room- or if someone had opened his door, at least.

“Let’s go on a camera hunt! You got a plan after that?” Ryuk asks.

“Simple, make it seem like I have no idea the cameras are even there, and that I’m just a normal teenager. I’ll probably need some excuse for why I have that paper and lead in my door, they’ll want to know why I don’t want anyone in my room, what I’m hiding, and if the footage reveals I’m hiding absolutely nothing, that’ll look even more suspicious. Every teenager has secrets.”

“So what’ll you do?”

“You’ll see.”

                               _______________________________

“This feels objectifying, Yagami.” 

You walk down the street leading to your boyfriend’s house, accompanied by the man himself as he explains his, quite frankly, pervy plan.

“Objectifying? We have sex all the time, Y/N.”

“Yeah, but nobody plans out when they’re gonna fuck. It’s just weird.”

“Hey,” Light stops walking, facing towards you as he gently lifts your chin with his thumb and index finger. The feeling made you melt, and he knew that very well. The way Light held your face and looked at you like you were the only thing on earth felt exhilarating, he could tell you anything in that position and you’d believe it. And that’s just what he does, constantly. “This is not an option, this isn’t personal business. This is about Kira. This is going to throw suspicion off me, okay? Do it. For me.”

You sighed deeply. He had you the moment he held your chin like that. “And there won’t be any explicit footage of us? There won’t be a camera like, right there?”

“I don’t know where all the cameras are, but there aren’t many like that in my room at all, we’ll be safe.” He lied, a practice that came so easily to him he no longer viewed it as morally wrong. It was just something he did, like going to school and eating dinner or doing homework, he also lied.

“Okay.” You agreed with a smile, prompting him to release his grasp on you and continue the walk home.

“I didn’t realize he went through such great lengths...might there be something in his room that he doesn’t want anyone to see?” Soichiro Yagami remarked, watching Light fiddle with the thin strip of paper in the doorway and the piece of lead in the hinges as you stood patiently behind him.

“Well, considering he’s 17, it isn’t all that unusual. I’ve done it myself, for no reason at all.” L responds, “I am a bit curious, though, as to what he’s hiding so admently.”

You enter Light’s bedroom with him, shutting the door behind you as you watch him toss his bag down besides his bed. 

“Y/N, are you scared of me?” He turns to face you.

“Hm? Why would I be.”

“L, the best detective in the world, thinks I’m Kira when I’m not.”

Oh, Light.

“He makes me out to be some kind of monster,” He continues, “I’m worried you’ll start to believe him.”

“I’m not scared.”

“Maybe you should be.”

“Huh?”

Before you could register his comment, Light lunges for you, tossing you onto his bed before tickling your stomach and sides.

‘L-Light! St-stop! Please!” You cried between giggles.

“Make me.”

Understanding, you connect your lips to his, causing his hands to rub up and down where he previously tickled you. You moaned into the kiss as Light pushed harder into it, his desperation showing. You wished he would take his time, but you knew the real reason you were here. His hands slid down to your lower half, pushing his hand inside your pants and rubbing your clit through your panties. You gasped, hand reaching up to grab his wrist reflexively. He let out a chuckle. 

Impatiently, he stood up straight, unbuttoning your pants before slipping them completely off along with your panties, leaving you in only your t-shirt on his bed.

“I figured,” L sighed, “You can close your eyes if you’d like, Yagami-san, but I’m afraid I need you here for legal purposes.”

Light crouched down onto the floor, lifting your legs to lay bent on his shoulders. Teasingly, he licked a line down your slit, earning a gasp from you. He straightened himself out again, moving towards your face. “L is watching,” He whispered, his hot breath on your ear, “Put on a show.” He smirked.

Watching? Had Light lied?

Light lowered himself back down to push his tongue inside you. His tongue wriggled around, exploring your walls with lust.

“Oh, Light” You moaned, slapping your hand over your mouth to muffle the sound. You knew L, you knew the whole task force for that matter. Your face flushed with embarrassment imagining any of them reviewing this footage and hearing your moans. Hell, Light’s dad worked with L, he could be watching for all you knew.

You jolted at the sudden sting of Light smacking your thigh with an open palm. “Don’t hold back, angel, and don’t cover your mouth. I want to hear all your pretty moans.” He said, removing himself from your core before pressing his lips almost to your ear again, lowering his voice to a whisper, “I want L to see how good I make you feel. Got it?”

You faintly nodded before he returned to your heat, dipping his tongue inside once again while his thumb felt your clit, rubbing it in circles. You knot your fingers through his brown hair, bringing his face closer to your pussy with a moan. He sped up his actions, practically abusing your clit while his tongue hit your g-spot, curling sightly upwords inside of you.

“Fuck, Light, I can’t, I’m gonna...”

With that, Light pulled away, leaving you edged and wanting more. You pouted, sticking your lip out with a whine. Light, having none of it, roughly raked his hand through your hair, forcing you up close to his face by your scalp. “You listen to me.” He growled, the heat of his breath warming your face, “No whining, and no disobeying. Got that?” He yanked your hair with the last syllable for emphasis. You let out a weak “Mhm.” 

He shoved you to the bed chest-first by your hair, never letting his fingers leave your locks. 

“Ass up.” He commanded, you obliged slowly, legs feeling a bit sore from him eating you out.

Hastily he unbuckled his belt before folding it in half, smacking your ass with it leaving a slight red mark. “When I tell you to do something, you do it quickly.”

“Yes Light.”

You yelped as he smacked you again with the belt in the same place, the stinging leaving your ass feel like it was burning. 

“Yes who?” He asked.

“Yes sir.”

“Atta girl.” He pushed his khakis fully down before aligning himself with your entrance, rubbing his head up and down your slit teasingly.

“Sir please...” You begged.

“Please what? Say it.”

“Please, please fuck me sir. I want your cock, please.” 

“Well, only since you asked so nicely.” Light slid himself into you with a groan. Slowly, he rocked himself into you. 

“F-faster, please sir. Faster.” You moaned, gripping onto the sheets.

Light obliged right away, almost as if he was waiting for you to ask for it. He quicked his speed, pounding into you mercilessly. He licked his lips, relishing in the loud slew of moans and curses spilling from your mouth as he fucked you.

“Look at you, you fucking slut. Begging for me to go faster. You’re so goddamn desperate for my cock, you dirty whore.”

You couldn’t help but moan at his words, though degrading, the fact that Light liked you at all made you feel worth something. Light Yagami, Kira, the god of the new world, liked you. Though you’d never admit it to the stubborn boy, he could say almost anything to you, about you, and you’d still love him.

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so tight.” He knotted his fingers back into your hair for stability as he thrusted into you even faster, burying himself deep into you.

“Oh my god, fuck, Light- sir, it’s so good.” You cried, feeling your orgasm creeping up once again. “I’m gonna...”

“Do it, come for me angel.” He encouraged, bringing his free hand up to play with your clit. The stimulation sent you over the edge. “Oh fuck, oh my god, fuck you feel so good.” You came loudly, only a little before Light did as well.

L watched Light collapsed beside you on the bed, only the sound of your breathless pants escaping the monitor. “Uh, they’re done, Yagami-san. You can...open your eyes again. Honestly, this security footage may be useless now, at the very least we cannot bring it to court, considering your son and his girlfriend are both 17. Perhaps this was his plan along.”

“You’re saying this makes you more sure he’s Kira?!” Soichiro raised his voice.

“Well, it definitely raises my suspicions.”

Light finally stood up, tucking himself back into his jeans. Before you could pull your bottoms back up, he picked up your panties from the floor, playfully spinning them around his index finger. “You won’t be missing these, will you?” He asks sarcastically, tossing them into the drawer in his bedside table. 

“Ah, so that’s what he’s hiding. A valid excuse to not want family in your room but... unexpected, to say the least.” L remarked, still somehow watching the cameras.

[chuckbass-love]

hii! I have a request for prompt 71 with Andy or ransom ☺️

Hey lovely, thank you so much for waiting this long for me to post this and i really hope you enjoy reading it just as much as i enjoyed writing it.

Prompt #71: "I'm gonna fuck you in front of the mirror, i want you to see how pretty you look when you're spreading your legs for me"

Disclaimer: My work is not to be translated or to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Andy Barber x Fem!Reader

Warning: Swearing, unprotected sex, rough sex, ass spanking, vagina spanking, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, daddy kink, breeding kink and angst.

Word Count: 3,486

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @sergeantbuckybarnes go check them out💜

In The Mirror

Standing in the middle of the master bedroom, you start to fold the freshly washed clothes before putting them away neatly in the closet. You start off by putting shirts away, Andy’s and then yours before moving on to jeans. Sometimes you wonder how he even has the room for his own clothes since you take up the majority of the space. But you just put that down to shopping trips he's so insistent on treating you to.

As you’re just finishing up, you hear the front door open before it slams shut so hard that the anger fuelling the slam of it can be felt even upstairs where you are.

Looks like Andy is finally home...

You decide to finish up with what you’re currently doing, taking your time before approaching your husband with caution. It was probably another run in with Neil, something you’ve grown accustom to dealing with ever since you met him. Doesn’t mean you don’t run out of ways to handle it occasionally though, your best option is to just allow him to vent before you distract him. Usually distracting him requires an old movie and takeout but other times it requires rough and needy sex.

“Andy” you call out as you pad down the stairs and into the kitchen, only to find him practically chugging a beer way to quickly. It must be bad if he couldn’t even wait until dinner to drink alcohol.

“You know sometimes i think why do i even bother going to work. I mean, Lynn sure seems to enjoy screwing me over for that fucking prick Neil and i’ve had just about enough of it”

Okay, now he’s really angry. You have no idea what to do or even what to say to him, you’re rendered speechless by his cursing and boiling temper.

“I was just about to make dinner, uh, lasagne perhaps. Or maybe we could order takeout again and rent that movie you were telling me about. It’s up to y-“

“Did you not listen to a goddam word i said? I don’t give a shit about dinner, do whatever. I’m going to take a shower” his decibels rise, his tone scolding as he storms past you and up the stairs taking two at a time until he reaches the top. You hear his heavy footsteps stomping to the bedroom and then suddenly it all turns quiet until the shower water starts to run.

Rather than leaving him to cool off, you decide to head up to check on him.

In a way, he was right. You practically ignored his annoyed state and changed the subject, in fact you couldn’t have changed it fast enough. But that’s only because you didn’t know what to say. When he gets like that, there’s not a lot you can say.

“Andy, i’m sorry” you squeak, stepping into the master bedroom to find him stood with his back to you as he removes his dress shirt and tie. His back muscles tense as he stands still for a second before turning around and tossing his clothes to the floor before starting on his belt.

“Andy” you mumble, desperate for him to acknowledge you.

“What?” he snaps, slipping out of all clothes until he’s in nothing but his birthday suit, his impressive size dangling between his legs.

“I’m sor-“

“I heard you”

You gently step closer to him, examining his face for any tell tale signs of discomfort before you rest your hand on his right forearm, “please, just talk to me. What happened today?”

“Like you care, all you seemed to give a shit about was dinner, so how about you go focus on that like a good little house wife and leave me to deal with the tough shit... does that sound like a deal?”

“That’s not fair, Andy. I didn’t know what to say to you, that’s all. You’ve had that many run ins with Neil lately that i lose sight of how to help you. But i’m here now, just talk to me. Tell me what i can do to make it better”

Silence.

His hand pulls from your touch, but before you can even understand what’s going on you’re back is already touching his toned tatted chest. His arms rest on your shoulders, keeping you pressed against him.

“Well, there is one thing...” he starts, moving your hair to the other side of your neck, freeing up some skin for him to feast on. His mouth nears closer, his hot breath fanning you torturously as his nose nudges at you. That’s when you feel his hands fiddle with the hem of your shirt teasingly, slowly lifting it up your torso with ease. You lift your arms in the air, allowing him to remove it before he discards it behind him without a care.

“Such a beautiful body, honey. Be a shame to waste it fretting away about dinner in that kitchen” you gulp in response, feeling his lips barely grazing the nape of your neck, the action causes a shiver to dance down your spine as his beard scratches you.

“Andy” your voice is nothing but a breathless whimper as you turn to face him, his hands instantly rest on your waist at the band of your booty shorts. Of course when he tugs at them, you know what he’s after now and you also know that no matter what you do or say, he’ll take it regardless.

He drops down to his knees, surrendering to your body and dragging your shorts down your legs as he sinks to the floor. You step out of them for him, even going as far as to kick them to one side before he pushes you back to the wall.

The palm of his hand gives your calf a soft squeeze as the other lifts your leg up to drape over his shoulder, your aching sex on show for his lustful orbs to focus on. The insatiable hunger is starting to drown out his mind, body and soul, he’s incapable of thinking of anything else but you, craving anything else but you.

He’s starving, desperate to taste you.

A couple more minutes pass with him peppering kisses along your ankle at first before moving up to your calf and then your thigh. You try to push him away due to the sensitivity there but he only forces you off him, he’s so much stronger than you could ever be and you know now that you’ve lost.

He presses another chaste kiss to your bundle of nerves before pausing and feeling your body react to his touch. Your shaking body begs to be worshipped and devoured whilst he begs to drink and breathe you in like you’re his only lifeline.

“Smell so good” he coos, poking his tongue out to give your clit a kitten lick as his nose nudges at your mound, the action causes you to roll your eyes to the back of your head. Whatever you did to deserve this agonising torture, you will make sure to never do it again. This is teasing at its peak.

“Please, Andy. I need you”

“Oh you’ll have me, alright” his response is quick yet snappy as he dives into you. His mouth latches onto your sex aggressively, sucking, slurping and biting. His beard scratching your inner thighs and it's sure to leave a burn there.

The tip of his tongue points all the more as he winds it around your clit rapidly and even with one hand gripping your hips roughly whilst the other strokes your leg up and down before settling on your ass, you still feel unsteady as if the smallest wave of pleasure could knock you to the floor.

His mouth right where you want him comes and goes as he takes breaks in between to come up for air, but right when you feel yourself getting lost in the feeling, it comes to a complete halt.

You glance down at him, eyelids heavy, chest rising and falling, only to find him rising to his feet.

“What the hell, Andy?” you ask, your entire body heating up.

“You sound angry” he cocks his head to the side as he grazes his hand across your hardened nipple.

“I am”

“Now, that’s exactly how i felt when i came home. Yet instead of comforting me like a good little wife should do, you made me feel worse. So therefore, you don’t deserve to cum”

What the hell is wrong with him tonight?

He shoots you a wink before padding into the bathroom, the shower water still running and steaming up all of the mirrors in your eye-line until he closes the door, locking it to prevent you from entering and leaving you standing there perplexed at his actions.

He did all of that on purpose. He built you up to the edge of ecstasy before leaving you to come crashing down all alone, all in the name of proving a point.

You reach for your robe off the hook on the bedroom door before storming out, brimming with frustration as you make a start on the dinner. Lasagne will do for tonight.

You prep it as fast as you can whilst the oven preheats to the correct temperature before putting it in and setting the timer. Now you can relax.

As soon as you throw yourself down onto the couch and flick the tv on, you hear the bathroom door open. You’re almost certain that he expected you to wait for him like a lost puppy dog but you refuse to play into his petty games of revenge. All because you didn’t comfort him. It was silly and unnecessary.

So for now, you’ll indulge in some reality television whilst you wait for dinner to cook and if there’s one thing that’s for certain, it’s that you are most definitely not putting out for him tonight. No matter what he says or how much he sweet talks you. It’s not good enough for him to treat you like that.

Whatever Neil did or said, that’s a work problem.

Andy can’t believe his eyes when he comes back into the bedroom only to find it empty. He wraps his white towel around his waist, covering up his modesty before heading out into the hallway and down the stairs. As he reaches the bottom of them, he spots you watching tv in the lounge, giggling away at whatever The Kardashian family are doing now, but whatever it is, he doesn’t care.

Instead of leaving you be, he stomps over “what do you think you’re doing?” he inquires, voice bellowing more than he intended “i’m waiting for the lasagne to cook, it’s in the oven. Enjoy your shower, honey?” you probe sarcastically, a rhetorical question. However your sarcasm infuriates him further as he picks you up with ease.

“Andy, put me down. NOW” you shout, kicking your legs and slapping his upper back as he drapes you over like you weigh nothing.

“Dinner is in the oven” you remind him, desperate to avoid burning it. But that’s when he puts you down before walking over to the kitchen and turning the oven off.

Your eyes widen as he approaches you once again, picking you up and carrying you up the stairs, taking them two at a time as he always does.

“Andy” you groan until he places you back onto your own two feet, his hands practically rip your robe off to expose your naked body before he does the same to the towel covering his manhood up.

“I’ll tell you what’s about to happen, honey and you’re going to listen” he informs you, stepping closer and moving you to stand in front of the mirror. You correct your abysmal posture as you look back at him in the mirror. A sinister glint in his eyes becomes crystal clear as a wicked grin graces his handsome face. His beard full, his hair still wet from the shower as droplets of water drip down his chest.

“I’m gonna fuck you in front of the mirror, i want you to see how pretty you look when you’re spreading your legs for me” the pure filth has you holding your breath in shock before exhaling dramatically.

He’s always been kinky but sometimes he still manages to leave you shocked. Although it’s times like these that you love him the most, the whines and whimpers he draws from you so effortlessly, the way he causes your body to tremble raggedly and most of all the way your entire world stops turning as he brings you to that cliff edge, pushing you off of it with his two large menacing hands.

He kicks your legs apart further before pulling your arms to the back of you. He hooks his arm inside of them to prevent you from moving away from him whilst his other hand massages your puffy petal like folds before circling your dripping entrance.

Once his tip is resting directly at the tight hole, he proceeds to move forward, the skin around your entrance catching onto him as your walls welcome him inside.

“Oh, fuckkk” he draws out the word, groaning and gasping for air as he drives home, the feeling overwhelming you to the limit.

How can one man have such a firm and tight grip on you like this?

How did you end up here, unable to utter out a single word as his pace picks up before he’s fucking into you so violently, snapping his hips with no signs of slowing down.

“Keep your eyes on yourself, honey, do as i say” he warns, and the moment you look up at him, you see the darkness and it causes you to look away, focusing back on yourself just like he instructed you to do.

The feeling of his cock dragging along your walls so fast is enough to cause the knot in your stomach to tighten painfully. The pleasure is almost too intense to bare, too much for your fragile body to handle. Yet you continue to take it, allowing him to fuck away his anger, channeling it into this moment.

His arm and hand tightens around your arms, holding you in place as he keeps his sights on you, watching as your mouth hangs open in the perfect O shape. Fuck, you look perfect like this with him bending you to his will, using you for the sole purpose of his pleasure and his pleasure only.

How did he get so lucky to be graced with you’re beauty?

The harder he snaps his hips into you, the more the coil tightens and the all too familiar feeling builds all the more inside of you. An ongoing reminder of your impending orgasm.

“Andy, i-i’m gonna c-cum” you tell him, begging for him to allow you the privilege of releasing, the privilege of creaming all over his rock hard cock.

A dark chuckle erupts from his throat, mocking your pleas for a release before tutting at you, the torment continuing.

“Please” you beg once again, only to be reprimanded with the harsh sting of his hand landing on your ass cheek “keep your eyes on the mirror, honey. You’ll come when i tell you to, quit being a brat”

The need to release is almost unbearable, tears of pleasure welling in your eyes and drowning out your vision before you blink, allowing them to stream down your innocent looking face for him to see. It only spurs him on more as he moves his free hand in from of you, kicking your legs further apart before smacking down on your sex brutally. Your body jerks in response before somewhat relaxing at the feel of him rubbing briskly at your pulsating clit.

“That’s it, honey. Taking that cock so fucking well”

“I need to c-cum, A-Andy” your voice trembles frantically in hopes of him taking pity upon you.

“Shhh, baby. Just let daddy fuck the frustration away, gotta fuck it all away” his words are pure filth but his tone is gentle and needy. He just wants to take his anger out on your body, channel it into something.

You can imagine that with the field of work he’s in that he finds it hard to keep his cool with Neil every day. Which is a shame because they used to be close.

Granted that was back when Neil first started and Andy mentored him, whipped him into shape and taught him everything he knows. And Neil is a better lawyer because of it. However, it also means that he’s just rude, obnoxious and cocky towards Andy, pushing him to the edge and taunting him a little more every day.

“Hold yourself back for daddy, you’ll cum when i give you permission to. Is that clear, honey?”

“Yes” you mumble, barely audible.

“What was that?”

“I mean, yes daddy” you correct, watching his eyes intently, searching for any sign of him letting up his tight hold and hard thrusts.

“Good girl, being so perfect for daddy and taking this fucking like a pro, huh?”

“Yes daddy”

Your eyes glaze over as you struggle to keep yourself in tact, the hold you have on your orgasm is slipping from your control slowly but surely and you know that if he doesn’t give you the go ahead soon then you’ll end up breaking the rules.

Something that will surely earn you a painful punishment.

“God, fuck. I’m gonna cum, you gonna cum with me, honey?” he asks, gasping. You throw your head back onto his chest, arching your back into him further. You nod your head as quickly as you can as you feel your knees turning weak.

“Count down with me”

“10’ you say in unison, his fingers rubbing furiously at your sex.

“9” the sound of your skin slapping together bounces off of the walls.

“8” the feel of his mouth latching onto the sweet spot on your neck, pearly white teeth sinking in to mark you up.

“7” the moans he’s eliciting are now flowing out of your mouth uncontrollably.

“6” deep grunts escape him as he pushes you against the mirror, causing your cheek to push up against it.

“5” the feel of him fucking into you tightens the coil for the final time, the feeling agonising.

“4” you scrunch your eyes closed, seeing stars as you arrive at the cliff edge.

“3” you say in unison as his thrusts turn from fast and rough to slow and hard.

“2” his cock twitches inside of you, your walls flutter around him over and over.

“1”

“That’s it, baby, cream all over that cock for me”

You let go, body shuttering as you stand up onto your tip toes. His grip on your arms lets up, causing you to fall forward, hands resting on the wall either side of the mirror.

“Oh god” he growls, hands splaying across the soft globes of your ass before he fills you with hot ropes of cum, breeding you unofficially.

He remains seated deep inside of you for a minute or two whilst the two of you struggle to regain control of your breathing, both of your hearts beating so fast that it feels as though they are on the cusp of exploding out of your chest.

“How are you feeling now?” you ask as he pulls out, turning to face him.

“Hungry for Chinese takeout and a night filled with fucking that tight cunt”

“Was that not enough?”

“I’ll never get my fill of you” he says, pulling your naked body flush against his “i want you all of the time and besides, that was just to channel my anger into something. The next time will be to make a baby”

“W-what?” your voice shaky as you raise your eyebrows at him.

“You heard me, i’m gonna spend all night breeding you, honey. Gonna make you all nice and round with my child. Gives me a chance to take my mind of that cunt Neil”

You nod your head, humming your agreement before pressing your lips to his.

Sure, you’ve had chats about kids before but this is the first time he’s openly suggested trying and even after his outburst, your love for him remains.

You can’t wait to spend the night tangled up in the crisp white sheets of your bed, filled with his cum.

---------------------

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[reidamancy]

skinny tie || spencer reid

summary: It’s Spencer’s first day back at work after your honeymoon and you can’t seem to keep your hands off of him... or his damn tie. (husband!spencer reid x fem!reader)

category: fluff... lots of domestic fluff

warnings: none

word count: 1.4k

a/n: this is my first fluff on here and idk how i feel about it lmao. i honestly think i’m better at writing angst but i literally think about spencer’s ties all the time, so i put it into writing! lmk what you think!

MASTERLIST

The blaring of the alarm clock awakened both you and Spencer from your deep sleep. You groaned and wrapped the blanket around you tighter as he went to turn off the alarm and turn on a nearby lamp. 

“Why do you have to work so early?” You groaned. 

He returned to his spot on the bed and you took the opportunity to roll over and curl up next to him. He chuckled as he wrapped an arm around you and placed a kiss on your temple. “What? You don’t miss waking up at 6 every morning?”

You narrowed your eyes at him before rolling them. He laughed and placed another kiss on your forehead, which caused a smile to form on your face as well. You placed a hand on his chest and leaned towards his face. “Mm, well you better get ready. Don’t want to be late on your first day back.” You cooed into his ear.

Spencer visibly swallowed. You giggled at the effect you had on him and laid back on your pillow so he could get up. Spencer rubbed his eyes and yawned before quickly getting out of the bed and into the shower. 

You dozed into a light slumber while he showered, the soft noise of the water lulling you to back to sleep. You hadn’t even realized you were sleeping until the clinging sounds of Spencer’s clothes hangers awakened you. You sighed in content and finally got up from the bed. “Good morning again, sleeping beauty.” He teased.

You laughed while you rubbed your eyes. “I don’t have to work for a few more hours, I think I deserve some extra sleep.” You quickly stretched and made your way over to your husband.

Spencer continued to get dressed until you were standing right in front of him. You took a moment to admire his half-dressed state. His unbuttoned dress shirt hung loosely around his shoulders, exposing his chest. Spencer smirked as he watched your eyes rake down his body, admiring the view. His slacks clung to his hips, dangerously low, and you noticed his belt draped on the back of a nearby chair. You bit your lip as your gaze went lower and lower until you noticed his socks.

“Spence, your socks don’t match.”

In the low light provided by the lamp Spencer had previously turned on, it was hard to tell what color Spencer’s socks were. But they definitely weren’t the same.

He looked down at his feet and exclaimed, “What? Yes they do!”

You shook your head as you went over to turn on the lights. A soft brightness illuminated the room and revealed a red sock on one of Spencer’s feet and a green sock on the other. Spencer ran a hand through his hair as he chuckled. 

“Oops, oh well.” He shrugged.

You playfully rolled your eyes before walking back over to him. As you were approaching, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach at the simple gesture. You wrapped your arms behind his neck and smiled up into his eyes. Spencer’s lips curled into a smile as he gazed down at you lovingly. 

Laughter rumbled in both of your chests as the two of you both pulled the other in closer. The two of you admired each other, soaking in the moment and getting lost in each other’s eyes.

“I love you, Y/N.” Spencer whispered.

Your arms traveled down from his neck to rub his exposed chest. “I love you too, Spencer.” You placed a kiss on his lips as your fingers ghosted their way down his abdomen, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You broke the kiss when you felt Spencer shiver, smirking at his reaction to your touch. Your hands continued their descent until they reached the bottom of his dress shirt. You smiled as you began to button him up.

Your movements were slow and sultry as you worked your way up his shirt, one button at a time. You felt your heart fluttering in your chest as you felt the heat radiating off his body. Spencer’s hands never left your waist, and the sheer proximity of your bodies only contributed to the intimate ambiance. 

When you finished, Spencer began to tuck in his shirt and put on his belt. You stepped back and excitedly asked, “Can I choose your tie?”

He chuckled and nodded. 

You giddily walked over to his closet and sifted through his selection of ties. You settled on one of your favorites, a dark charcoal skinny tie. You practically skipped over to Spencer and draped the tie around his neck. “I’ve always wanted to do this!”

Spencer laughed. “Then why didn’t you just say so?” His hands were on your hips again and you blushed.

“We weren’t married yet.”

Spencer furrowed his brows in confusion and you giggled. “It’s just different now.” You explained with a smile. You brought a finger up to his nose and lightly booped it. His nose scrunched at the action as you both giggled. 

As you went to tie his tie, you encountered a problem. You realized that you actually had no idea how to. You glanced up at Spencer then tried to mask your confusion as you fumbled with the fabric.

“Y/N... do you know how to tie a tie?” Spencer asked, teasingly.

“Shut up, I’m learning.”

You wrapped the tie, made loops with the tie, fed the ends through those loops, but to no avail. You were no where close to tying it properly. Spencer looked down at the mess of knots you made and laughed. 

“Hey, no! This was supposed to be romantic! Let me just-” You stuck your tongue out in concentration as you tried one last method. You pulled on the tie and...

The entire thing fell apart. 

Spencer laughed and you huffed. “Y/N, look.” He took the tie from your hands and slowly tied it as you attentively watched.

“You cross it over, bring this over here, pull it up, then feed it through this loop.” He explained, emphasizing each step. 

“Wait, wait, let me do this part!” You grabbed his tie and pulled, tightening it against his neck and satisfyingly completing his look. “Is that too tight?” You whispered.

Spencer shook his head. “It’s perfect.” He pecked your cheek. 

Your cheeks flushed as you said, “I’ll get it next time!”

Spencer smiled. He pulled you into a bear hug and rested his head in the crook of your neck. He turned towards your ear and lowly whispered, “Mm, I’d much rather you take it off.”

You immediately backed away and lightly slapped his shoulder. “Spencer!” You scolded.

He let out a laugh as you sarcastically shook your head. “You have work, mister.” You pointed a finger chided him. 

“It’s Doctor.” He corrected. 

You beamed at him. You couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed at this point, he was just too cute. 

Spencer smiled back at you before quickly throwing on a jacket and leaving your shared bedroom. You followed him into the living room and grabbed his satchel for him. He went through a mental checklist of everything he needed for work and nodded to himself when he had everything. He reached for his satchel in your hands but you stopped him.

“Wait, you’re forgetting something!”

Spencer looked at you in confusion. Without warning, you grabbed his tie and gently pulled him down into a sweet kiss.

You got on your tip toes to meet him in the middle as your lips collided. Your noses slightly bumped at the unexpected action, but Spencer quickly adjusted. His hands went up to cradle your face, pulling you towards him, while yours stayed on his tie. You tugged a little harder on it, closing any distance between you, and enjoying the leverage you had on him. Your lips moved in sync as you both breathed each other in. He hummed in satisfaction and you slowly pulled away. 

As your eyes fluttered open, you saw each other’s flushed cheeks as you let out heavy breaths. Smiles adorned your faces as you bit your lip.

He pulled you back for a quick peck on the lips then let you go. 

You tried to ignore the buzzing of your lips as you handed him his satchel.

Spencer slung the bag over his shoulder and made his way towards the door. He turned towards you once more.

“I’ll see you tonight, Y/N.” He beamed. He held on to the straps of his satchel and toyed with his lip, no doubt feeling the same buzz you were. He walked towards the door, but before he could make his way out, you called out to him.

“Have a good day at work, Dr. Reid!”

“You too, Mrs. Reid!”