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A New Place
Azriel x Archeron!Reader
Summary: Your birthday felt ruined until you met someone new.
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: Angst
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They forgot. They forgot that it’s your birthday.
You really couldn’t blame them considering they all have their own lives and issues to deal with, but it didn’t make it any easier.
The main problem you have isn’t really that they had forgotten your birthday, it’s actually that they had celebrated every other holiday and birthday no matter what was going on. They dropped everything for everyone. Except for you.
So to say it hurts is an understatement. The forgotten sister, as per usual. Always left behind and pushed to the side. You suppose it makes sense considering you’re the youngest of your sisters. Always pushed to the side, whether it was intended or not.
For the last three years, things had gone from bad to worse, to just about perfect for your family. But not for you, you felt like a burden. Birthdays are supposed to be special, to celebrate whose day it was. It certainly didn’t feel like it right now.
Wandering through the River House, not a single soul in sight. Everything felt too quiet. No breakfast being made, no presents—not that you expected to get any—and none of your sisters to greet even. They were who you wanted to see right now.
Instead, you make your way to the kitchen and grab an apple instead. As you were about to leave to go for a walk, you hear loud laughing coming from the front door. In walks your sisters, their mates following close behind.
As they make their way to split off from each other, you only get a few smiles and greetings. Nothing else. That’s how you know they have forgotten. So you give them a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Once they’re all out of the doorway, and not giving you a second thought, you take that as your sign to finally go for your walk. The walls now feel incredibly claustrophobic.
What you don’t notice is a certain pair of hazel eyes studying you as you tug on your coat, and pull the door open. The spymaster’s calculated gaze, noticing everything no matter how discrete you think you’re being. His shadows agitatedly circled him as you passed the threshold.
─
Dress brushing the cobblestone streets of Valaris as you stroll down and take in your surroundings, relishing in the fresh air and sunlight warming that previous coldness you felt from the negative start to the day.
Walking past shops, bakeries, and cafes. Passing an oh-so-familiar bookstore before doubling back to head into. You think that maybe browsing for an hour or so could help brighten your already tiring day. Without realising you’re already ambling your way over to the shelves.
Picking up many books, reading their synopsis, and then putting them back in their previous places, you finally find a book that interests you. Feyre’s money isn’t mine. A sour taste fills your mouth at that thought, so you decide against getting it.
Exiting the lovely bookstore with a wave to the cashier you think it might be time to make your way back to the house. Maybe you’ll be able to fix up some food once you’re back. Mindlessly dawdling you through the crowded streets, then deciding to take the long way. There’s no need to be home any earlier than needed.
Moving by stores you’d never seen or heard of before, peering in through the windows, but not daring to go in. A sign catches your eye, ‘Benny’s Bar’ read above the doorway. From the outside, it looks similar to one that you remember in the human lands, just not nearly as beat up. A drink or two couldn’t hurt, hopefully, they’re not too expensive.
You enter, not giving yourself enough time to argue, and the strong scent of alcohol quickly invades your senses. Ignoring it you meander over to the bar.
The interior is much nicer than what you see from the street, with dark wood floors, and the walls a deep shade of green. The same wood as the flooring extends up the wall behind the bar, lined with long shelves, and all kinds of liquor. The tables scattered around the room were well worn, in a charming and homey way, with mismatched chairs pushed under them. Old paintings that seem to have been passed down for generations are pinned up around the room. The lights dim but not dingy, giving the place a warm glow without being too bright.
Passing by the fae, face down on the tables, and loud groups either brainlessly arguing with one another or laughing their asses off, either way, their conversations were unintelligibly slurred. Glancing at the clock hung above the door frame, you wonder just how long they had to have been since it’s only two o’clock. A loud breath escapes you, registering that you’re joining them. Disregard that thought and slide onto a stool regardless of the depressing realisation.
You finally grant yourself a minute to have a proper look at the people working. A large, muscular, older-looking male is behind the bar pouring out drinks, while also barking orders at a couple of younger males out the back, in the kitchen. A tall, black-haired female, her face lips set in a firm line, as she saunters around the room, handing out the drinks the larger male poured. Another stocky male makes his way around the room to wipe down tables and booths, while also pushing in chairs and picking up dirty plates and empty glasses
But the fae who sticks out to you is a female with deep blue skin, and hair a darker navy shade as she walks by some large cabinets with a heavy-looking crate in her arms. Once she notices your presence, a charming smile stretches across her lips and makes her way over to you. Your lips quirk up in response.
“Hi, Love, what can I get you?” her voice has a lovely rasp to it. However, your face heats for an entirely different reason, not having any experience with taverns in general, but also not much with alcohol either.
Contemplating your answer, your hands wringing together in your lap, “What do you recommend?” your words come out softer than intended. Her smile softens slightly, and it makes you tense up, now feeling out of place. “Don’t drink much?”
Her words cause a soft huff to pass your lips. “Not really.” your shoulders slump forward, but her smile brightens once again as she heads over to the alcohol-filled shelves that line the wall behind her. Grabbing a bottle of clear liquid, and a tall glass. She takes the lid off with a pop, and pours out a small amount, slowly sliding the glass across to you. She watches you, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips.
You pick up the drink, lift it to your nose, and instantly recoil. The smell felt like it singed your nose hairs. A soft chuckle escapes the female's lips. “I wouldn’t recommend sniffing it,” she leans over the counter as if to tell you a secret, “It’s easier if you down it in one go.”
With a slight nod, you lift the glass to your lips, follow her advice a down it in one go. It burns your throat as it slides down, and your nose scrunches slightly in response. “Didn’t taste easier.” a snort escapes her. “Unfortunately this bar doesn’t have any of the fancy sweet drinks that others do.” Your lips curve up. “I’m Benny by the way.” The Owner. Your grin grows a little and you give her your name.
─
Hours later you’re in the same spot, conversation is flowing easily with Benny—who hasn’t left her spot behind the bar since you entered. Refill your drinks when needed. The alcohol is easier with every drink you have. The bad morning your day started with is like a distant memory. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see It’s now dark out.
Sloppily turning to the clock to see the time—11:30—then back to face the female in front of you, now aware of the fact that you had spent your entire birthday in a tavern, you let out a long sigh. Benny tilts her head to the side from the sound, but as she opens her mouth to speak you beat her to it.
“It’s my birthday.” you blurt out, words coming out slurred, but you brush it off and continue. “My entire family forgot. Didn’t even wish me a happy birthday before I left the house.” a small sniffle followed your words.
Benny frowns. “I know who your family is, honey,” you stiffen and she resumes. “You never know, they could have a surprise birthday waiting for you.” trying to lighten your mood at least a little bit, and it makes you straighten briefly before your shoulders curl inward once again. Not believing her words. And by the way, Benny shifts on her feet, you know she doesn’t even believe it.
“Unlikely,” you mumble. Finger swirling around the edge of your empty glass. Benny lets out a huff, tapping her fingers on the wooden bar before she turns around and grabs a different bottle from the shelf, a rich brown one. She also grabs another glass before turning back to you.
She pours a generous amount into both glasses, and rather than bringing it straight to her mouth she holds it in the air, seemingly waiting for you to do the same. So you mirror her movement. She clinks her glass with yours, “To you! Happy Birthday, Love.” Both of you finish your drinks in one go.
“Thank you, Benny.” Looking over your shoulder another sigh exits you. “I should head back now.” Turning back to her. She nods.
As you slide off your seat, swaying as you straighten your dress, readying to leave. “If you need a place to stay, I have an apartment upstairs that needs an owner.” she offers just as you are about to turn away. “I know I don't know your current situation, but a new place to stay might do you some good.” A smile tugs at your lips.
“I don’t have money to pay for it,” You reply. Yes, your sister and her mate have more money than one ever could imagine, you still couldn’t help but feel like you’d owe them if you used any more of it than just drinks you had today.
Benny dismisses your words with a wave of her hand. “Don't worry about that, I have an opening to work here.” she gestures to the bar. “If you don't, I could always help you find a different one.”
Your smile softened slightly. “Thank you, Benny,” repeating your words from earlier. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
And with that, you wave her goodbye and exit the tavern. Swaying and stumbling drunkenly over the uneven cobblestone streets, as your mind churns with the thoughts that your family are most likely gathered in the living room, after sharing a lovely family dinner. They’ll probably judge you for the fact that you had a couple of drinks too many, that thought makes you feel a little queasy.
─
After a long time of manoeuvring your way through the nearly empty streets, you finally find yourself staring at the front door of the River House. Dread fills you thinking about what kind of conversation you’re about to have.
With a heavy sigh, you push the door open, stepping inside. The first thing you hear is their loud laughter. The door closes behind you louder than expected, and you grimace. The voices quiet down as you stumble your way towards the sitting room. From the doorway you see all heads turn to you. Everyone’s here. Even Lucien and Varian are seated next to their partners.
“Y/N!” Feyres's cheery voice breaks you from your thoughts. “Your back.” You step closer, her nose flares subtly, and her smile falters. But Nesta’s the one who says something. “You smell like a Tavern.” Her tone is sharp enough to make you flinch.
“I had a couple of drinks.” your reply words slurred, shrugging your shoulders drunkenly, and an uncomfortable silence follows.
“More like the whole bottle.” Mor seemingly trying to lighten the mood, her joke makes a couple of people snicker.
“We didn’t even notice you were gone.” Amren deadpans. Heads whipped in her direction at her statement, ready to scold her. “It’s true. Don’t even try to deny it.” Her voice is harsh.
Your brows pull together at the fact that no one tried to argue, and your nonchalance falters, giving way to frustration and anger at the entirety of the situation and your ruined day.
“It’s my Birthday.” your voice a near growl. Everyone’s eyes widen both at your admission and at your unusual tone of voice. Usually so soft-spoken, and gentle. The complete opposite of right now. Another disappointment.
“I was willing to chalk it up as stress from your own lives.” Your breathing ragged. “But you've been sitting here for hours and like Amren said, you didn’t even realise I was gone for something as small as a family dinner!”
Your eyes flit around the room as you continue, “Oh, and not to mention the fact that you have all taken the time to celebrate every other holiday and birthday! I guess my day isn't important enough to remember compared to the festivities that hardly even get recognized by the general public!” You practically spat your words.
Now you take a moment to look around at them. Feyre’s face is contorted in guilt, Elain looks as if she might cry, Nesta’s staring at her lap, and everyone else is either wide-eyed or unable to meet your gaze.
The lack of response further fuels your rage. The only person who looks as if they might say something is Azriel. His usually stoic features falter, but he hesitates. A look crossing his face that you couldn’t quite make out. Not wanting to linger on that any longer, you turn your gaze back to the rest of them.
You scoff. “Nothing?” Looking up at the ceiling, too many emotions are warring in you and are far too much for you to handle in your drunken state.
At the extended silence, you turn on your heel and make your way back to the entrance. No one even calls after you. That's enough for you to grasp the fact that you can't stay here. Not anymore.
The door slamming behind you, rings throughout the house. It didn’t matter as the cool nighttime air slammed into you, the lingering effects of the alcohol wearing off entirely.
Your arms wrap around yourself to keep the cold out as you amble down the streets of the City of Starlight, the stars shining above you now not bringing the same comfort as they once did. Once again you find yourself outside a familiar building. Making your way inside, Instantly finding who you unconsciously were looking for.
Benny turns towards the entrance as the door shuts, her face falls as she takes in your expression. She quickly makes her way to her, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and leading you to a more private corner of the tavern.
“Is your offer still on the table?” Your voice is hoarse and watery. Benny gives a nod, ushering you passed the kitchen and up a set of stairs.
A new place. Already feeling more at home than with those who are supposed to care for you.
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a/n: I know there isn’t any interactions between Az and Reader yet but there will be! This didn’t come out exactly how I wanted, so I might came back to this at some point, and there might also be some spelling mistakes. The editing took longer than expected so sorry for the delay. I’ll try and get a part two out as soon as I can, hope you enjoyed. <3
taglist:
@tiredsleepyhead @blackgirlmagicforever
#azriel × reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#azriel x reader angst#azriel angst#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#azriel acotar#acotar x reader#acotar#a new place#a new place series
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lesson in words | s.r. x pregnant!fem reader
for some reason today, annabeth was not in the mood for her princess dresses or jelly shoes. she raised her voice when you were shuffling around her room, trying to find something appropriate for the aquarium. she didn’t want her sage green pants, or her lavender plaid shorts, not even her scratchy sparkling pink skirt.
“i want these!” kicking her legs in the air to indicate her unicorn pajama pants. you just sighed, not wanting to indulge her antics, “honey, those are house clothes. you sleep in those for a long time, they’re not appropriate for a day out. now, what’s our second choice?” leaning against her dresser with a fist beside your growing bump.
“unicorn! i want unicorn!” she jumped her body against her mattress, the springs creaking. a headache brewing behind your eyes, “annabeth diana reid,” you kept your voice stern and level, “if you can’t pick out day clothes then we can’t go to the aquarium. that means you can’t see the stingrays for another month.”
she pouted as she crossed her small arms over her chest, her hectic bed head another part you’ll have to deal with. “i hate you,” she said it mostly quiet, probably meant to be a whisper but doesn’t understand how that works yet.
you pursed your lips while diverting your eyes to the floor, “well i’m sorry you feel that way, but if you can’t fix your attitude and change your clothes then you can stay in your room for the day.” leaving your daughter behind as you headed to your shared bedroom where your husband was tidying the space.
he turned when you stepped on a specific creaky spot, he greeted you with a smile that dropped when you assumed he saw your upset pout and wet eyes. “what’s wrong?” quick to hurry at your side with his hands caressing your elbows.
“hormones mostly,” sniffling, “and annabeth has decided to be stubborn today and says she hates me cause i won’t allow her to wear her pjs out the house.” spilling what happen in the last five minutes as fat tears collected on your lash line, one blink and they slid down your pregnancy cheeks.
“oh honey,” spencer leaned your head into his chest, neglected nails curling into his navy polo. one of his hands slid along the back of your head to keep you hidden while his other rubbed soothing circles between your shoulder blades. “she doesn’t actually mean it.”
“i know i know,” you sniffled as you moved to place your ear to his heart, “just hurts having her say those words. she probably doesn’t understand the extent of its meaning.” taking a deep sigh as you gathered yourself to lean away from spencer.
“why don’t i go talk to her? try from a different perspective.” his warm palms rubbed at your upper arms as he stared softly into your wet eyes.
you sniffled, “she is a daddy’s girl. listens to you more no matter what.” chuckling wetly when spencer just shrugged. he pecked a kiss to your forehead and guided you to the made bed, telling you to rest for now as he went to talk with your four year old.
spencer knocked gentle on her cracked door, “can i come in?” both of you were making sure to teach the importance of knocking before entering a room. she almost caught the act of making her new siblings.
“yes,” she replied quietly. spencer slowly pushed open her decorated door, his head peaking in first before completely entering and closing them in.
his daughter lay in her bed, her flower comforter swallowing her. only a small lump shifting gave away her hiding spot, spencer took a seat at the foot of her twin.
he gave what felt like her calf a loving squeeze, “wanna come out and talk?” her small heel nudged into his knee, “no.” spencer could hear her pout.
“why not?” “cause i-i-i was a meanie to-to mommy,” annabeth began to hiccup through her words. spencer quickly pulled her sheets back and frowned at her rosy wet cheeks, along with a line of snot leaving her tiny nose.
“oh honey, come here.” spencer wrapped his arms behind her back as she threw hers around his neck. she crawled into his lap, her small legs stopping at his hips. “do we feel bad about our earlier emotions?” spencer rubbed a large palm in soothing circles.
“ye- yes. i-i want to see sti- stingrays, and i-i want to match with mo- my mommy.” her words a blubbering mess as she panicked over something small for the adults but other worldly for her child mind.
spencer cooed in her ear, “why don’t we go apologize first. see if she’ll accept.” he felt annabeth nod in agreement. he carried her the short distance to the master bedroom where you were laying on your back as your palms rubbed your stomach and you stared at the ceiling.
you turned your head at a small knock, your face softening at the sight before you. “someone has something to say,” spencer said as he let annabeth’s feet sit on the bed.
the young girl untangled from her father’s hold and slowly walked to sit beside you. you could hear her ragged inhales and frowned at her flushed face. “i- i- i am sorry for ye- yelling. i want to go to aquarium and you- you can help dress me, mo- mommy.” her tiny hands pulled at the helm of her sleep shirt.
you let a palm caress her warm cheek, “i was a little hurt when you said you hate me,” wanting to be truthful to your brilliant child.
her lip wobbled, “i- i didn’t mean it. i lo- love you with my whole body.” something you say to her to show your complete extent of affections. “i heard that it was an unkind word, i- i re- regret saying it.”
“i know you do, honey.” pulling her into your chest for an awkward side hug. “let’s be mindful of our words, alright? they’re very powerful.” petting down her hair, you felt her nod on your shoulder.
“are my two girls friends again?” spencer spoke up during the moment. he stayed near the edge of the room to give the both of you space.
you pressed a kiss into annabeth’s temple, “i think so. what about you bethie, do you want to wear matching overalls today?”
her eyes peeked at your through clumped lashes, “can- can we also do bows?”
you squeezed her side, “of course, bethie-boo.”
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a/n: i took this idea from @khxna that they left on a post of mine. thank you for sharing💗
#erin writes spencer#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid early seasons#spencer reid x pregnant!reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine
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I'm Here on Business
Wayne is a regular at the bookstore Steve works at and badgers Steve into going on a blind date with his kid.
For @extocancer Happy New Years!!! I hope you enjoy your presents ◡̈
***
It's a quiet night in the little bookstore on the corner of Brinks and Williams. Steve is sitting behind the check-out counter flicking the leaf of a potted pothos placed next to the register. Soft music plays from the radio behind him.
Steve likes taking the evening shifts at the shop just to see the place warmly lit up by all of the eclectic and ornate lamps that Amber, the owner, has collected. The store doesn't give him migraines from obnoxious fluorescent light, which has been an issue at previous jobs.
Ever since Robin moved out of their apartment for Grad school, it's been upsetting to be at home alone at night. Without her company, the couch feels longer. And without her unhinged apartment decor, the walls feel taller and colder. Consequently, Steve has taken on more work hours instead of being home.
Plus, he has kind of fallen in love with reading. It came as a shock to him that he could enjoy it as much as he does. It started when his all-female team of coworkers began ranting to each other about these romance novels they were all into. He felt a little left out and decided to give one of them a try. It turns out that reading was actually a really great coping mechanism for dealing with his temporary loss of Robin.
The nicest, and most surprising thing to come out of this job though, is probably Wayne. A one-time customer turned regular, turned tentative friend for Steve. He's got a caring, parental energy that Steve's own parents never had.
The guy looks like he'd have a gruff or standoffish personality. His face naturally rests in a frown and he's got receding grey hair. He wears a flannel every day without fail; he's got a million different colors of them and Steve has even made a game of predicting which one he'll be wearing when he comes in.
"Did ya guess right today, boy?" Wayne will ask.
"No," Steve often admits glumly. "The universe told me you'd be wearing your green and blue one."
So anyway, Wayne comes around a lot to make small talk. He often mentions how he misses his son, Eddie. He's so stiff with personal information about his kid, but one time he let it slip that Eddie was on tour with his band. Steve had a field day afterward colluding with Google to find out exactly who Wayne's son was.
Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of rock group Corroded Coffin.
Steve hadn't heard of ‘em but they certainly have a following. He listened to some of their stuff, to give himself some context for the next time Wayne brought up Eddie's music. It was nice enough, the guy has a good voice.
Steve's been waiting for Wayne to come in tonight. He's later than usual and it would be ridiculous for Steve to worry about a man who probably just thinks of Steve as that one kid who works at the bookstore. He may not come in at all tonight, and that would be fine too. Steve's still holding out on him pulling up in his... yellow flannel.
Steve's about to cave and start the next book in the current series he's reading when the door jingles. Wayne pushes inside in his mother fucking yellow flannel.
"Yellow Flannel!" Steve exclaims. Wayne chuckles and drops a book on the counter followed by a receipt.
"You got me right today?" Wayne asks fondly.
"Yup. It's been a while. I was aching for a win." Steve starts returning Wayne's book for him without giving him slack this time. Wayne treats the store like a library and Steve doesn't have the heart to tell him it's not allowed.
"Was this book any good?" Steve throws Wayne's receipt back at him and starts moving around the counter to put it back on the shelf for some other historical fiction lover to purchase.
"It was just alright." Wayne follows behind him languidly, eyeing the rows of colorful book spines for something that catches his eye. "But actually I'm here on business tonight."
Steve leans on the shelf and waits impatiently for Wayne to tell him what sort of business he's on.
"I think you ought to go on a date with Eddie. I think you two'd compliment each other."
Well, that's... not what Steve was expecting to hear.
"That's business to you? You came here to set me up on a blind date with your famous kid? I think he's gonna be a tad underwhelmed by a bookstore employee, Wayne." Steve's not gonna lie, he's a little intrigued by the prospect of dating a musician. He read a romance novel about one, not that long ago. Concerts, greenroom intimacy, targeted lyrics: Steve could be into it, in theory.
And ultimately, Steve did see photos of Eddie on Google and he's attractive. He looks good holding a guitar.
"He's gonna be home for a while so I figured now's a good time. Just go on one date. He's a big softie, you'll like him." Wayne pulls a book off the shelf and squints to try and read the title. He holds it further from his eyes before giving up and pushing it back into its slot.
"What happens if he doesn't like me? Will you still come around?" Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair. It wouldn't be the end of the world if Wayne stopped showing up, but it would probably hurt a little. It might fan the flame of his fear of abandonment.
"Of course, unless you break his heart. I know where you work, young man." Wayne pats his shoulder good-naturedly.
"Okay old man, you need my number to hand off?"
***
A day later, when Steve feels his phone buzz against his thigh, his instincts already know who it is. His heart gives that anticipatory squeeze he often gets before a first date with someone he finds attractive.
The text reads:
Hi Steve, this is eddie. Wayne swears we're soulmates. Wanna get dinner on friday?
It's a funny text to receive out of nowhere. Steve doubts Wayne actually used that word, but he imagines that Eddie is probably getting more of an earful than Steve got about this whole blind date. He also wonders what kind of person calls their dad by their first name.
Hi Eddie. I'd love to get dinner on Fri and discuss our soulmate status. I'm pretty sure he expects us to be married by the end of the night. Should I bring my tux? Also do you have a time and place in mind?
The master of puppets (Wayne) suggested we go to Maggiano's, are you okay with Italian? 8 maybe??? Tux optional but I think I will not be wearing one.
Haha. That sounds good Eddie, it's nice to hear from you. I'll see you soon.
***
Steve has to ask Amber to change his shift for Friday to work in the morning instead of the evening.
"Steve has somewhere other than work to be on a Friday night? Unheard of!" She slaps her palms down on the book display she was laying out.
"I know. I'm surprised too." Steve fiddles with his lanyard and gives her a 'please say yes' smile. She sighs.
"Yeah, I'll cover you. You can take my morning slot."
"Thank you! I owe you, boss."
***
When Friday arrives, Steve has the nervous jitters. It's been about a year since his last date, it didn't go very well. He's flattered that Wayne thinks highly enough of him to set him up with his kid.
Steve picks up a few small gifts for Eddie on his way home from work. He always brings his first dates a little something. He likes to see the way their faces light up. He thinks maybe he should get Eddie something music-related. So he walks into a little music store he's never been in and asks for small gift ideas for guitarists. He walks out wearing a smile, and hoping Eddie digs what he bought him.
And he's all smiles and confidence until he pulls up to the restaurant at eight and realizes he didn't send a confirmation text this morning. That's like, a rule, right? What if Eddie doesn't show up?
Steve steps out of the car and is equally anxious and relieved to find him leaning artfully against the restaurant near the front door with his hands in his pockets.
His curls are haloed by the warm light spilling out of the restaurant window. He's wearing a dark button-down with the sleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos on his forearms. And yeah, okay, he's hot.
The fact that Steve's going on a date with someone sort of famous hasn't fully sunk in. He's not sure he needs the added nerves though. He approaches as casually as possible and smiles when Eddie looks over.
The man does a double-take when he sees Steve. His eyebrows shoot up and he pushes off against the wall to stand straighter.
"Hi, Eddie?" Steve steps up onto the curb with a little wave. Eddie gives him a thorough once over.
"Oh, damn. Hi." He pulls a hand out of his pocket to shake Steve's.
Eddie is pretty up close. He's got long eyelashes and a bridge of little freckles across his nose. Steve notices all the little details that the on-stage photos didn't capture. He wonders if Wayne described what he looked like to Eddie who was at an informational disadvantage.
"I don't know what I was expecting you to look like, but my uncle didn't mention you were model pretty." Eddie tucks one of his big curls behind his ear and then steps forward to open the door. Steve's face gets warm at being called "model pretty", but he's terrible at taking compliments. He tries to redirect the conversation.
"Your uncle?" Steve asks.
"Wayne? My uncle?" Eddie motions towards the open door and follows after Steve once he's inside.
"Oh. You know he tells people that you're his son?"
Eddie's face softens and he scratches at his cheek. "Oh. Yeah well, I basically am. Maybe I should start calling him dad, I don't know."
"We don't take walk-ins." The hostess of the restaurant announces, breaking up their small talk. Steve looks over to see a tall woman with a slicked-back ponytail mad-dogging them. She has a cold demeanor, she kills the mood with one look between them. Steve knows the look, he's sure Eddie does too.
"Good to know! I have a reservation, though." Eddie responds.
"What's the name?" The woman pulls her iPad closer to herself like a shield.
"Munson." Eddie glances at Steve nervously.
"Hm. I don't see it." She pretends, tapping around meaninglessly. Eddie is getting agitated and maybe embarrassed too. He's scratching at his arm, unsure of how to proceed. First dates are already so awkward, especially blind ones. And if there's one thing about Steve, it's that he's gonna try to lighten the mood.
"Don't you know who he is?" Steve asks offendedly. Eddie whips around to look at Steve with wide, panic-filled eyes. The hostess raises an eyebrow and looks more closely at Eddie. It makes Steve chuckle. "I'm just kidding, let's go get burgers or something." He grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him back out the door.
"Holy shit, you scared me. I didn't know you knew who I was." Eddie has a hand on his chest and a wild grin. "She definitely didn't."
"I was just messing around. She did not want to seat our gay date." Steve sticks his hands in his pockets and then remembers Eddie's gift. "Oh but hey! I got you something."
Steve pulls out a nice bar of chocolate and a little tin of black pearly guitar picks. He offers them to Eddie with an open palm.
"Oh, what? You didn't have to do that." Eddie grabs them eagerly and slides open the tin. "This is so nice! How'd you know I've been needing picks? Now I feel doubly bad about dinner falling through."
"Hey, if I'm honest, sit-down dinner dates kind of give me anxiety. Too much pressure to keep the conversation going." Steve pulls out his keys, "You like burgers?"
Eddie huffs dramatically. "My palette is far too sophisticated for greasy burgers, Steve. I'm a chicken nugget man, obviously."
"That makes sense. You look like one." Steve teases. Eddie pouts.
"I'm taking that as a compliment."
"If you want nuggets we can just walk down the street. Unless you want me to drive?" Steve points in the direction of the row of fast-food restaurants.
"Yeah, let's walk."
Steve slowly turns and starts walking, glancing invitingly over his shoulder.
"So you know me." Eddie rattles the tin of guitar picks and looks a little worried by the prospect that Steve is some sort of fan.
"Only through your uncle, really. And maybe a short Google search. Sue me." Steve holds up his hands guiltily.
"Oh yeah, Wayne's my marketing manager. I send him out to spread the good word."
"Well I don't know who you've been instructing him to market to, but he's spending all his time in my store making me read book summaries to him because he conveniently forgets his glasses every time he comes in." Steve deadpans. Eddie chuckles and shakes his head knowingly.
"Yeah, It's this new long-con form of marketing. We decided to go all in for just one new fan." Eddie's got these sweet little dimples on either cheek when he smiles.
"Kinda worked, I dunno. I'm charmed by the Munsons." Steve and Eddie are veering towards each other as they walk. They're set to collide like two little asteroids. When they do end up bumping shoulders, it's soft. They stay close after that.
Steve hears a truly horrible sound coming from a bar a few meters ahead of them.
"Oh shit! Karaoke bar!" Eddie exclaims and speeds over. Eddie stands in front of the fenced-off patio and looks in while someone butchers Guns N' Roses. He looks absolutely delighted.
"What, you want to go show off in front of these poor, tone-deaf drunkards?" Steve rests his arms on the little fence and leans forward. Eddie vehemently disagrees.
"God no, I just like hearing all the very talented Midwestern voices." Eddie wiggles his eyebrows to express his sarcasm. "In other words, I enjoy making fun of bad music. I'm only human."
They sit there and give each other pained looks at the bad voices for a few minutes until someone starts trying to drunkenly stumble over the verse to a Nicki Minaj song and then Eddie drags Steve away in anguish.
"Can't take it anymore, Steve. Spare me."
***
The two of them have a good rapport, Steve thinks as they sit on a curb and share a big box of chicken nuggets. Maybe Wayne was right. It's playful. He can see how Eddie and Wayne share a handful of mannerisms and a sense of humor.
"Let's intertwine our arms like newlyweds do when they drink champagne," Steve says with a ketchup-covered chicken nugget in his hand. He wraps an arm around Eddie's and then takes a bite. Eddie follows his lead and giggles.
"I didn't know they did that. I've never been to a wedding." Eddie swallows and reaches for his soda.
"What? Never?"
Eddie shakes his head and looks up at the night sky. It's too cloudy to see any stars, unfortunately.
"My tux is in the car, by the way, should things pan out tonight." Steve jokes.
"I think they're panning." Eddie winks and leans in slightly.
"Oh yeah? Have I lived up to Wayne's description of me?" Steve bats his eyelashes and gives Eddie a sweet little smile.
"You've exceeded it, sweetheart." Eddie picks up Steve's hand and presses a chaste kiss to the inside of his wrist. Steve's heart jumps. When Eddie pulls back, he doesn't pull back far.
"Do you ever kiss on a first date?" Eddie whispers and squeezes Steve's hand. He glances at Steve's lips.
"Mmm, I could be persuaded." Steve feels a heady rush at the fact that he has somehow won the interest of a successful musician who probably meets loads of people every day. Steve reaches forward and tugs at one of Eddie's loose curls. He twists it around his finger and looks up with big doe eyes.
The tension is cut from Eddie's body when Steve looks at him like that. The move has a pretty good success rate at this point. And it doesn't fail him tonight. Eddie rests a hand on the base of Steve's neck. He strokes his thumb back and forth against the hollow of Steve's collarbone and leans in slowly.
Eddie's warm lips press against his own gently, experimentally. Their lips make a sweet sound when the suction is broken and Eddie's immediately reseal against Steve like he's irresistible. It's been forever since Steve kissed anyone, especially anyone worth kissing. He forgot how sweet and floaty it feels.
The hand on Steve's collar slides up so it's lightly holding his neck, it feels quietly possessive. It makes Steve's face heat up. Eddie's free arm wraps around Steve's waist pulling him closer. He lets himself be pulled.
Eddie starts getting more confident and hums softly when Steve weaves a hand into his long hair.
Steve could keep this up for hours, he wants to. But as dark as it is, he doesn't love the idea of continuing this so out in the open. He pulls back with regret.
"Damn, how are you not already taken?" Eddie wipes at Steve's shiny lips with his thumb.
"How are you not already taken? You're the accomplished one." Steve counters, squeezing one of Eddie's knees.
Eddie gathers their trash around them and stuffs it into the paper bag. "Well, I'll be home for a while if you'd want to do this again sometime. I can take you to a nice restaurant next time, I promise." He stands to throw away the trash. "Damn, I don't want the night to be over..."
"It doesn't have to be, you're welcome at mine." Steve leans back on one of his hands and bats his eyelashes up at Eddie.
"My New Year's resolution was to not do first date hookups, though."
"We don't have to, just come hang out." Steve holds an arm out to be pulled up to his feet from where he’s still sitting on the curb.
"Oh, yeah okay. You want me to?" Eddie pulls him to his feet with more force than necessary. It sends them both stumbling and giggling.
"Obviously I want you to."
***
The walk back to the restaurant is much faster than it was at the start of the night. They regretfully have to split at the parking lot, each having their own ride.
"Wait, call me so we can still talk on the way there." Eddie requests before jogging off to Wayne's truck. There really isn't much need to talk on the phone since Steve lives so close, but it's kind of cute that he wants to. Steve hits the call button on Eddie's contact.
"Hello, to whom am I speaking?" Eddie asks in a formal, over-the-top voice.
"This is Steve Harrington. I'm contacting you regarding your car's extended warranty." Steve backs out of his spot and waits for Eddie to do the same before driving out of the parking lot.
"Oh wow, what a coincidence. I was just wondering if my car had an extended warranty." Eddie always plays along, he digs into all of Steve's jokes and finds his own spot to grow there.
Steve drives slower than he normally would so that he doesn't get separated from his date. Eddie doesn't appreciate the sentiment.
"You drive like a grandpa. Has anyone ever told you that?" Eddie laughs and honks his horn. Steve hears it both over the phone and from his window.
"I'm only driving slow so we don't get separated, asshole."
"There's barely anyone on the road tonight to separate us, but it's fine, Steve. I value your safety. Drive at your comfortable geriatric pace."
When they pull up to a red light, Eddie instructs Steve to roll down his window so they can stick their hands out and play Rock Paper Scissors. Steve is so distracted watching Eddie's hand through his side mirror that he misses when the light turns.
"It's green, honey," Eddie alerts him softly through the phone, and Steve apologizes.
He's smiling real big the whole way there and when Steve eventually gets out of the car, Eddie comes up and grabs him from behind.
Eddie plants a few eager kisses on the side of Steve's neck. "You're fun, Steve."
"I'll show you real fun some other time." He jokes and pulls Eddie towards his place.
As soon as Steve opens the door to his apartment, he feels self-conscious about how dull it looks inside. Eddie looks around quietly. His eye catches on a picture of Steve and Robin.
"That's my best friend, Robin." Steve clarifies, just in case Eddie reads it wrong like dates have in the past.
Eddie smiles and pulls Steve back against his chest. "She looks nice."
"Looks can be deceiving." Steve laments which has Eddie chuckling into his shoulder. Eddie rubs at Steve's tummy.
What Steve really wants, what he's been desperate for, for months and months is human touch. He just wants to cuddle so badly. And Eddie doesn't seem the type to cuddle, but looks can be deceiving, so Steve's gonna ask anyway.
"Wanna cuddle and watch trash reality TV?" Steve's shoulders rise to his ears, it's a defensive gesture and he's expecting to be rejected. Eddie looks slightly amused by his offer, but he nods.
***
"So you liked him alright?" Wayne asks smugly patting the counter. Steve nervously watches the back of the store where Amber is reorganizing. Steve shouldn't be having a conversation like this at work while she's around.
"Yes, Wayne." Steve rolls his eyes. "Your nephew is lovely."
"I told him he should come here with me next time. Maybe we'll both visit ya." Wayne looks happy. The corners of his default frown have been pulled upwards by the return of his nephew. He's a good man. Steve thinks if his kid was only home a few weeks he'd want to hoard all of his attention, surely not set him up on dates.
And that's the thing about Wayne, it seems like he puts the people he cares about first. Steve wonders if Wayne is all that lonely when Eddie's gone, or if he just comes into the store so often because he knows Steve is.
"I'd love that." Steve hopes things work out with the Munsons.
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Steve Harrington x fem!reader [4.2K] loosely based on the movie float, lifeguard!steve, a summer full of swim lessons. mentions of drowning, eventual smut 18+
SWIM LESSON SCHEDULE
LESSON #1
“Oh, come on,” the guy coaxed, voice wheedling and a little slurred.
You didn���t really know him, a friend of a friend's cousin who was visiting from out of town but he’d been cute enough to entertain five beers ago. He’d grown sloppier now, a little leery, his hand around your wrist as he udder you towards the dock that overlooked Lover’s Lake.
You’d dug your heels in, smiling through your teeth as you shook your head and tried not to spill the cheap wine Robin had brought down the front of your shirt. The small beach that was hidden in a cove was surrounded by trees, green in the summer, full and making the crescent moon strip of land perfect for a bonfire and for some drinking.
There were small crowds of people all over the sandy patch, sitting on blankets and cheap camping chairs, familiar faces lit by the small fire, people you didn’t know as well lingering between, bare feet on the edge of the shoreline.
You’d came with Eddie, riding in the front seat of his van with a rucksack full of corner store liquor on your lap, the smell of weed coming off strong from the pocket inside his leather jacket.
“A night full of potential clients, sweetheart, please,” he’d pleaded with you, brown button eyes wide. “The Jacksons have their cousins over from the backass of Georgia, they’ll pay for the rest of our summer if I show them the good shit.”
So you’d agreed, albeit grudgingly, letting your best friend haul you off your sofa and to the get together that you didn’t really want to go to. But Robin was there, and Nancy too, a few people you hadn’t seen since senior year, back for the summer to visit their folks and well - it wasn't all bad.
Then the evening faded into night and the lavender skies turned inky, the same shade as the lake water. And when people got a little looser, whisky and bud light warming their veins, they laughed as they stripped down to mismatched underwear and dove off the dock, splashing and shrieking in water you couldn’t see the bottom of and god—
You’d, grimaced, turning away from the shoreline and sticking close to Eddie, the boy’s arm always brushing your own even when he was busy dealing, twenties fisted in his hand as he passed over baggies to a twenty something girl you’d never seen before.
But then that guy found you, relatively sober and sweet until he wasn’t, sloppy with his arm around your neck, breath smelling like smoke and beer and he was pulling you towards the people in the water, telling you it was all part of the fun. You’d protested immediately, intensely, eyes wide as the water came closer and your feet hit the wooden planks of the dock.
Between the gaps, you could see black, dark water rippling, the moon overhead glinting white off the tips of the current. Eddie hadn’t noticed you were gone until the stranger had dragged you half way down the decking. Your wrist burned from how tight he held it, how hard you tried to twist it from his grasp.
“Hey— hey!” Eddie had barked out, loud and brash and aggressive enough to make a lot of people around him startle. He broke free from the circle that had gathered around him, lips set in a snarl and determination in his eyes. You knew fine well that when Eddie got his hands on this guy, it wasn’t going to be pretty. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Let her fucking go—”
But Eddie couldn’t reach you in time, not when his boots dug too deep into the sand and there were too many people to push out of the way. The guy laughed at a joke you weren’t a part of and then he pushed.
Your arms swung wildly, windmilling as gravity took over, your balance gone and you were too near the edge of the dock to do anything about it. Your hands grabbed at the air, fingertips just brushing your new acquaintances shirt and his grinning face and beer blurred eyes were the last thing you saw before you back hit the water.
It was as dark underneath the surface of the lake as it was above it, an icy shock despite how warm the day had been, how the heat still lingered in the night. You gasped, immediately inhaling, murky water filling your mouth and throat and you kicked, hoping that the direction your hands were clawing in was up.
But nothing happened and your body didn’t move.
On the beach, people were murmuring, too drunk to consider the consequences, too stoned to fly into action. Besides, only seconds had passed. Bubbles were floating in the spot you’d gone under, ripples evidence of the fact that you’d once been there. Eddie was sweating, shoving at people as he ripped off his leather jacket and prepared to vault himself onto the water after you but someone at the bottom of the deck beat him to it.
Steve Harrington had dropped his beer at the first sign of the commotion, his part in the conversation with Jonathan Byers and his friend from California dying off as he turned to watch a guy he didn’t know drag you down the dock. The stranger had been laughing but you hadn’t, and before he could say something, Steve only had a second to look at the absolute horror on your face before you were forced backwards and into the lake.
He was on his feet immediately, facing back up the dock to where you’d disappeared from, watching wildly for signs of you returning to the surface. And then Eddie was yelling at him, pushing past some underage kids from out of town, half of his jacket hanging from his shoulders and he was yelling.
“Steve! Steve, she can’t fuckin’ swim, man—”
If Eddie finished the sentence or said anything else, Steve didn’t hear it. He launched himself off of the side, hitting the cold water with a splash he didn’t hear. Water filled his ears and fuck, he could barely see. But somewhere a little below him there was a flash of white from your shirt that had tangled itself up around your neck, your arms flailing wildly as you tried your damn hardest to kick up the way.
Steve had grabbed your arm, your panic making you slip before he curled his fingers around your wrist and then you were being hauled against him, your back to his chest as he moved with a confidence you could never imagine for yourself. You’d been under for a minute, maybe a little more, maybe a little less, but Steve had your head breaking the surface of the lake in seconds. You were gasping and coughing, your fingernails tattooing half moon lines in Steve’s forearm as you held onto him, fear gripping you as hard as you did him.
You thought you’d heard his voice, a low murmur in your ear that was fuzzy from the water lodged there, from the buzz and clamour that had then awoken on the beach as the music stopped and people were gathered by the shoreline.
Eddie had been knee deep in the water, readily meeting you and Steve as the boy swam closer with you, and once your feet hit the sandy bottom, you lurched forward, hands held out to grab Eddie’s waiting ones.
Steve’s were on your back, keeping you upright and steady until he saw that Eddie had you. You and Steve were both dripping and Eddie was swearing, his cheeks red and his eyes wide, unsure whether to rush you to his van first or hunt down the creep that had put you in danger in the first place.
But Nancy was rushing forward with a blanket, wrapping it around your shoulders and taking in your chattering teeth and panicked stare, the vice-like grip you had around Eddie’s fingers. “He’s gone,” she said to the boy. “He ran off when he saw Steve dive in. Just get her home, Eddie.”
Steve Harrington had ended up in the front bench with you in Eddie’s van, your shivering frame sandwiched between both boy’s and no one said anything until you all got back to Eddie’s trailer.
You hadn’t said anything as you’d headed for a hot shower, your wet clothes slapping on the bathroom tiles as you had stripped, slimy weeds and grains of sand stuck to your cold skin and your hands were still shaking as you twisted the squeaky handle to turn the water up hotter still.
And when Eddie was ripping his room apart for dry clothes for you and Steve to change into, his eyes watery with anger, his throat tight with rage, Steve had been leaning against his door frame with his arms crossed over his damp chest.
“We’ll get him,” he’d said quietly, just in case you could hear above the spluttering of the old pipes. “We’ll find out who he was and— and we’ll deal with him and then I’m gonna teach her how to swim, alright?”
Eddie nodded, movements sharp and jerky and he handed Steve a pair of black sweatpants and an old Metallica shirt.
“Alright?” Steve had repeated, chin ducked to make Eddie meet his gaze. He had been so serious. “I’m gonna give her lessons. This won’t happen again.”
The sky was still half pink as you biked down the empty sidewalk.
A blue-lilac colour, softer than you’d usually witness due to the early morning hour. The sun was still low, the town still asleep, the watch on your wrist telling you the seven am was still to come. Your bike chain whirred softly, brakes squeaking as you slowed by the chain link fence.
Hawkins community pool was sun bleached and well loved, the old bunting that draped over the water barely red and blue, the shutters for the food stand still rolled down and locked. The aquamarine slide was now more white and it looked like it would give you an infection if your skin was to snag on one of the exposed bolts. But the gate was open, only just, and you sucked in a deep breath as you let your bike lean against the wall.
Chlorine filled your nose as you walked in, the generator humming and the pool filter trickling, the sun loungers empty and still stacked against the changing rooms. Despite your early wake up call, the air was already warm, a humid kind of heat that Indiana summers brought, sticky and sweet smelling, like someone had left a jug of peach tea on their porch all day.
The tiles that surrounded the pool were wet, recently hosed down and cleaned, and your sneakers slapped noisily as you walked towards the waters edge. You didn’t go too close, not at all, grimacing at the bright blue rectangle like it would force you in itself. It seemed somehow more menacing when it was still, a glasslike surface reflecting the cotton candy sky above it, no splashing and screaming kids to fill its depths.
Then a boy appeared - no, more man than boy - from the staff building.
He had red shorts on, the fabric sitting above his knees and an old white shirt that you assumed must’ve once said “lifeguard.” He was barefoot and tanned, sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose and he didn’t even notice you at first, too busy hanging a net back onto the wall.
Steve Harrington was pretty and tall and he had really good hair. He was quieter than when you’d know him in high school, softer looking than he’d once been. But you didn’t really know him and he didn’t really know you. But he was friends with Eddie and you were friends with Eddie, so somehow, someway, that meant you were kind of, almost friends with him too.
Except you weren’t and you had no idea why you’d agreed to this.
“You can change in there.”
You hadn’t expected his voice, so you startled, arms wrapping tighter around your body and crushing the small rucksack that housed your suit and towel. You frowned at the idea, because changing meant one step closer to going into the water and you weren’t quite sure you wanted to do that yet.
So you said nothing.
Steve just watched you from across the pool, brows raised. And then he shrugged and muttered something that sounded like “suit yourself,” before he threw his sunglasses onto a plastic chair and tugged his shirt over his head.
You’d barely gotten a chance to really look at the quick flash of tanned, bare skin he exposed before he dove into the water, barely causing a ripple. You were slack jawed as you watched him move seamlessly below the surface, his body a pretty shade of blue as his muscles flexed, strong back and broad shoulders stretching as he swam.
When he reappeared, much closer to you, Steve braced his forearms on the edge of the pool and dragged a hand through his wet hair, strands of it plastered to his forehead, water clinging to his lashes.
You didn’t know where to look.
“You’re not going to learn much if you don’t take your clothes off.”
Despite the way his words warmed you, skin heating up the same way the morning was, you scowled. You didn’t want to be here. Not at the pool, not around water, not with Steve Harrington and certainly not at seven in the morning on a Saturday.
And now you were standing under the morning sun and the same boy that saved you from the lake was squinting up at you from the pool below and you were only really here because Eddie had begged you.
It had been a whole week and you could still taste lake water on the back of your tongue.
“Changing rooms are over there,” Steve motioned to the building behind you with a tilt of his head.
You tried not to look at him, or the water, when you nodded tightly, dragging yourself off to the ladies section. And when you came back out, the sun had risen just a little more and Steve was still in the pool, floating easily on his back as he used his arms to move slowly around the water. The rays were glinting off of the water and him, toned shoulders and soft stomach glittering with water droplets and suddenly the pool seemed an even scarier place to be.
The old swimsuit you’d managed to pull on was a little on the tight side, all black and supposed to be modest if the too small size hasn’t been cutting into the swells of your ass and chest. It had been a good few years since you’d had reason to put it on, and even then, you hadn’t gone near water. A beach day on the Fourth of July with enough space between you and the ocean that you hadn’t even minded the sand too much.
So you stood with your arms crossed over your chest, trying to hide the expanse of skin there, your knees pressed together and you looked downright mournful about your current predicament. If Steve hadn’t remembered the fear in your eyes that night in the lake as you scrambled for him under the water, he would’ve cracked a joke or two.
Instead, he swam over to you cautiously, fingers curling around the edge of the pool as he swiped his wet hair from his forehead. “Hey,” he began gently. The town still hadn’t woken up yet, not really. It was just Steve’s voice and the hum of the pool filter, some cicadas buzzing in a bush behind the far side of the fence. “Nothing bad is going to happen, alright? Not here.”
You looked at him like you didn’t believe him, eyes wide and lips drawn into a tight line. You didn’t move an inch. And it wasn’t because you didn’t trust him, not really. You were exactly friends but Steve was close with Eddie and if Eddie trusted him— well. He got an automatic pass from you too.
Eddie didn’t trust a whole lot of people.
But the problem wasn’t Steve. It was most definitely the rectangle full of blue water, shimmering and pretty as it was, it looked deep, the slope of it going downdowndown and Steve’s body was distorted under the ripples, his legs looking broken and mangled, the surface lapping way too high across his shoulders and neck.
Your body felt like lead, a dead weight ready to sink to the pool floor, legs unable to push yourself back up.
You took a step back.
“Okay,” Steve sighed and he tried really hard to not sound impatient. The day had barely begun and he’d make a promise to Eddie, one he really didn’t want to break. “We’ll take it back a little, yeah? Come over here.”
You watched as he pulled himself out of the pool with an impressively low amount of effort. The muscles in his shoulders and back bunched up and he swung a leg onto the tiles before standing, water dripping off of him, cool and splashing your toes. He made a point of not looking at your and all your bare skin as he walked around the edge of the pool, right towards the back of the lot where there was a set of stairs that led into the shallow end.
He didn’t look over his shoulder to check if you were following and you only hesitated for a second or two before you did. And when he reached the top of the steps, he waited for you and held out his hand, brows raised expectantly.
You stared back.
The water didn’t look as scary here, but not by a whole bunch. It was lighter blue, the white tiles on the bottom of the pool about more visible and the numbers that were flaking and painted on the side of the wall said the depth was only two and a half feet.
You could drown in less, the voice in your head told you. It sounded a lot like your mom.
So you kept your arms crossed for a little while longer, teeth gnawing unkindly at your bottom lip. Steve just waited, hand extended palm up and after a minute had passed, he took one step into the pool, standing ankle deep in the water on the top stair. He caught your eye then, smiling in what he hope was a reassuring way.
“D’you trust me?” He asked, eyes squinting in the bright sun. There was a mole on his cheek that disappeared into the lines of his skin when he smiled. “S’okay if you don’t yet, but, I’m a lifeguard here, so like, legally? I can’t let you die.”
You surprised both yourself and the boy when you snorted unexpectedly, a sharp sound of amusement that you used a hand to cover up. But it seemed to encourage Steve, ‘cause he positively beamed at you, his hand wiggling, vying for your own.
“C’mon, I promise I won’t let you go,” he swore. He leaned further forward, his fingers close enough to brush the softness of your stomach, if he so pleased. He didn’t. “We’ll start nice and easy today, alright?”
It felt momentous, when you slid your hand into his. He was still warm despite his pool damp skin, like the sun lived inside his bones. He grinned, victorious, nodding encouragingly when you moved to the edge of the steps.
“We’ll do them one at a time, alright?” Steve moved to stand in front of you, his other hand catching your free one until he was guiding you closer and closer to the water, walking himself backwards with every step you took forward. You flinched when your foot hit the first step, the water warmer than you’d anticipated, brushing up just past your ankle.
You had two feet in the pool and two hands in Steve Harrington’s and it felt like the entire world was about to implode on you.
“There you go,” Steve murmured, warmth and a little hum of pride in his voice. “See? S’not bad, right? I’ve still got you.” So you took another step and another and suddenly the water was lapping at your knees. You froze, grip tightening around Steve’s fingers and your wide eyes found his, all too aware of the way you were very much in the pool now.
“Hey, hey,” Steve’s thumbs rubbed over the back of your knuckles, the skin there burning from holding him so tightly. “Listen. Do you trust me?”
There was no joke that followed the question this time. His eyes were earnest and warm, serious as they looked at you, searching your face for any signs that you were going to flee. It took you a few seconds, swallowing dryly and taking a deep, staggering breath before you nodded. You did, you did trust him, and that was as surprising as you being in the pool.
“Yeah,” you told Steve, voice a little weak and hoarse. “Yeah, I trust you.”
He squeezed your fingers and his smile was gentle, an achingly kind thing that made your eyes water in the corners and Steve let you stand on that middle step for a little while longer. “Good,” he finally said and his voice was as soft as yours had been. You tried not to look at the way the chain around his throat caught the sunlight, the silver turning golden, just like his skin. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay?”
You nodded, feverish and your movements jagged and you tore your eyes from Steve to look at your bare feet on the steps, your toes waving under the ripples, longer and skinnier and then fatter and wider. The sight made you dizzy, stomach tumbling a little but even still, you wished you’d had the forethought to paint your toenails something pretty.
“Two more steps, alright?”
Steve’s encouragement broke your senseless wanderings and you nodded again, words caught in your throat and he was leading you forward, hands wrapped around your own and he grinned when you took another step down, the water hitting your upper thighs. It was cooler as you went deeper, a stark contrast to the warm, sticky air above it and your skin prickled, mouth falling in a quiet gasp. Another step, happening almost too fast for you to overthink it, the water at your hips and making you swear as you rose onto your toes almost instinctively.
Steve laughed, not unkindly, as you moved closer to him, unthinking as your hands left his in favour of clinging to his upper arms. It felt safer like that, anchoring yourself to his solid frame, but there was so much bare skin involved and not a lot of space left between you both as you held on for dear life. His fingertips brushed the sides of your waist before he must’ve thought better of it, cheeks burning before his hands cupped your elbows and he took a little step back so your chest didn’t touch his.
“You’re alright,” he murmured. “You did it, yeah? That’s it. You’re in.”
Steve was grinning and you tried to smile too, trying to feel proud of your little accomplishment but the rest of the pool was stretched out behind Steve’s shoulder and the water there was so much more blue, cerulean leading into indigo until you couldn’t see the bottom anymore.
Steve must’ve noticed cause he shook his head, the hand cupping your elbow smoothing up your arm until he squeezed, water dripping from his palms and coasting down your skin. “Hey, hey, none of that. That’s for another day. We’re staying here, alright?”
You grimaced at the idea of ‘another day,’ but his words still didn’t ease you. You licked at your lips, dots of chlorine on them and despite how stupid you felt, you asked anyway. “What if— what if l, like, float over that way? Accidentally.”
Steve smiled like he couldn’t help himself, laughter in his eyes and a grin that he quickly tamed. “We’re not gonna catch any waves in here, this isn’t Maui,” he was still smiling, teasing, just a little. But sensing your growing worry, he continued. “And if that had to happen - which it won’t - I’ll come and get you.”
You stared at him, heartbeat in your throat and so many other questions on your tongue. They died there, fizzing into nothing as Steve held your gaze, a silent promise in his brown eyes. You’d never noticed how long and thick his lashes were, still wet and spiky from when he’d been swimming as you changed.
Maybe there was doubt in your eyes, or maybe Steve just felt the need to reiterate his statement, but when he said once more, “I’ll come get you, just like last time,” you really did believe him.
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i told you id request to keep it alive, so like honouary wag fluffy blurb with first race back where she’s an official wag? and the girls are so excited and charles is excited to be able to say that she’s his 😇
MORE HONORARY WAG BABIES !!! this is our girl as an official wag 🥺 READ THE HONORARY WAG HERE
The summer break had flown by, and as you stepped onto the familiar grounds of the paddock, the buzz of the post-summer atmosphere hit you immediately.
But this time, something was different. No longer were you just the 'honorary WAG' tagging along with your friends, half-hidden in the shadows. This time, you were walking hand-in-hand with Charles, officially his girlfriend, and it felt as though all eyes were on you.
You gave his hand a slight squeeze as you both passed the Ferrari hospitality area, the usual sea of red and white surrounding you. Charles smiled down at you, his green eyes warm and comforting, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. "You okay?" he asked softly, clearly sensing the slight nervousness in your body language.
You nodded, smiling. "Yeah, just feels a bit different now."
"Don’t worry. You’ve always belonged here," Charles chuckled softly, "Now it’s just… official."
You smiled at Charles' words, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. As you approached the area where you were meant to meet the girls, you turned to face him.
"I should go meet the others at the Paddock Club," you said, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder.
Charles's lips curved into a playful smirk. "Ah, abandoning me already for your glamorous WAG duties?" he teased.
You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. "Oh, please. As if you won't be busy with team meetings and interviews all day."
"True," he conceded, then leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But I'd much rather be busy with you."
A blush crept up your cheeks as you gave him a gentle push. "Behave, Leclerc. We're in public."
Charles laughed, pulling you close for a quick kiss. "See you later, mon coeur," he murmured against your lips before reluctantly letting you go.
With a final wave, you made your way to the Paddock Club, spotting your friends gathered near one of the tables. As you approached, you could see the grins spreading across their faces.
"Well, well, well," Rebecca called out teasingly as you joined them. "If it isn't the newest official member of our little club!"
Kika giggled, linking her arm through yours. "Welcome to the dark side, darling."
"Oh, stop it," you laughed, feeling both embarrassed and oddly proud.
"You were always one of us, it's just official now," Carmen said, winking at you.
You loved these girls so much.
"But seriously," Lily said, "how does it feel to be the official Ferrari WAG now?"
"I mean," Kika added with a grin, "it’s kind of a big deal."
You laughed softly, shaking your head at their teasing. "It feels good. Weirdly normal though. I guess because I’ve been around so much already."
"Well, we have two reasons to celebrate today. Not only do we have YN officially joining our ranks, but it's also Kika's first race as Mrs. Gasly!" Rebecca said as she called out a waiter to order some champagne.
Kika beamed, her new wedding ring glinting in the light. "I still can't believe it sometimes," she admitted, a dreamy look in her eyes.
As the champagne arrived and Rebecca began pouring glasses for everyone, you couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging. Sure, things were different now, but as you clinked glasses with your friends and laughter filled the air, you realized that everything felt right.
As the race day activities continued, you found yourself moving between the paddock, the garage, and the hospitality areas. Charles had commitments, but every so often, he’d glance over at you, his eyes softening as he caught your gaze. There was a quiet comfort between you two now, knowing you didn’t have to hide anything anymore.
At one point, during a brief break between work, Charles pulled you into a quiet corner of the garage. He leaned against the wall, tugging you closer by the waist until you were standing between his legs, his arms wrapped around you protectively.
"You doing okay?" he asked, his voice low and affectionate as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.
You nodded, resting your hands on his chest. "I’m fine. Just… still getting used to all this. But I’m happy to be here with you."
Charles smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I’m happy you’re here too." His expression softened as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "You make everything better, you know that?"
You smiled against his lips, feeling your heart swell at his words. "You’re not so bad yourself, Leclerc."
Before either of you could say anything more, you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat. "Am I interrupting?"
You turned to see Joris standing there with an amused grin on his face. "Come on, Charles. Time to get back to work. You’ve got a race to win."
Charles sighed dramatically but gave you one last kiss before stepping back. "I’ll see you after the race?"
You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "I’ll be cheering you on."
As Charles disappeared with Joris, you rejoined the girls, who immediately started up their teasing again.
"Did you guys have a moment?" Kika asked with a smirk.
"Oh, they definitely had a moment," Lily added, wiggling her eyebrows.
"Can’t a girl spend a few quiet minutes with her boyfriend without you lot jumping in?" you rolled your eyes playfully.
"Oh, come on," Rebecca chimed in, her eyes sparkling. "We're just happy for you two. It's about time, honestly. "
"How could I forget? You literally bet on us," you teased with no real malice in your voice..
"Hey, it worked out, didn't it?" Carmen said with a wink. "And now you're no longer our honorary WAG. You're the real deal."
#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fanfiction#charles leclerc imagine#the honorary wag#f1 x reader#f1 fanfiction#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fanfiction#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc smau#cl16 x reader#f1 grid x reader#charles leclerc story#charles leclerc fic#harrysfolklore#f1 smau
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Isn't there an age limit?
The Justice League gathered in the meeting room to deal with yet another potential world ending threat. On the screen was a projection of an incoming alien armada. The invaders were as numerous as the stars. Each spaceship looked like a skull with many tentacles.
“These mechanical ships harvest a world’s resources, destroying all life, while terraforming the planet into servers which become part of Brainiac’s interstellar network,” Batman explained.
“We don’t have sufficient numbers to take them all down,” Martian Manhunter pointed out. “Is there a weakness we can target? Or do they have a leader we can capture to force the entire fleet into submission?”
“We need to locate Brainiac and infiltrate the ship he’s on.” While Batman spoke, a hush silence fell on the entire room. Everyone stared at the screen behind him, with mouths wide open.
Turning around, Batman stared in unbelief.
A massive sphere - a dead star, moved between Earth and the alien army.
The cameras zoomed in on a red dot pushing it - Fawcett’s new local hero with the demeanour of a golden retriever - Captain Marvel.
Gripping the titanic star like an oversized plastic ball, he swung it forward, hitting the incoming spaceships out of the galaxy.
The Herculean man’s face lit with childish glee as he pumped his fist in the air.
Grinning like an idiot, he carted the unimaginably heavy celestial object away, while whistling a ditty.
How powerful was that man?
More importantly, does he have any weakness in case he needs to be taken down?
“Phew,” Flash was the first to get his voice back. “The new guy took care of that. So can we go home now?”
“No,” Batman raised his hand. “Change of agenda. It’s time we expanded our membership.” Keep your friends close but your enemies closer. What better way to keep an eye on the new guy than to bring him into the fold.
Superman had a silly hopeful grin on his face. “I vote we invite Captain Marvel to join the League.” The Last Son of Krypton must suspect that the new hero is a fellow Kryptonian.
“We don’t know anything about him,” Green Lantern cautioned.
“Better get him on our side than have him join our enemies,” Batman replied as the screen showed photos and articles about Captain Marvel gleaned from the internet for all to study.
“He’s clean.” Cyborg ran his checks on the man. “He’s a boy scout. Half of all the footage I have found — and I mean exactly half — shows him rescuing cats from trees or helping little old ladies cross the road while carrying groceries for them.”
“Cast your votes,” Batman ordered. “Do we want Captain Marvel to be a member of the Justice League?”
*
The decision was unanimous. Captain Marvel has a place in the Justice League, that is, if he wants it. With his power set, he would be a valuable asset to the team. All appearances of the new hero have shown that he is one of the good guys.
“I’ll ask him,” Superman volunteered. He was dying to meet the new guy. He had to be a fellow Kryptonian. Though he must have a chat with The Captain about Bat-paranoia, to hide how much Kryptonians can really do. Otherwise Bats might break out his Kryptonite stores to hit them both.
For example, while pushing a titanic star, for goodness sake, please make it look a lot more challenging.
According to Cyborg, Captain Marvel would appear in Fawcett right after a massive lightning strike from the clear, cloudless sky. The hero tended to patrol Fawcett for an hour before seven in the morning and for an hour after three in the afternoon on weekdays. His schedule was more unpredictable during the weekends.
Clark was a reporter.
Could The Captain be an elementary school teacher in his civilian identity?
It was a quarter past three on a Wednesday afternoon. Superman hovered four hundred feet above Fawcett’s busiest square, drawing a curious crowd while he waited for Captain Marvel to make his appearance.
Lightning struck an alley near a local elementary school.
“S-superman!” Captain Marvel hovered in front of him.
The man’s brilliant blue eyes brimmed with excitement as he stared at Superman with an open-mouthed grin.
“What brings you to Fawcett?” The Captain’s cheeks flushed as he stiffened, arms crossing his heavily muscled chest. If Superman didn’t know any better, he’d think Captain Marvel was starstruck.
“Captain Marvel,” Superman began, feeling a little self conscious.“I come on behalf of the Justice League. We’ve seen what you can do and want you to join our team.”
“You want me to join the Justice League?” The big guy was practically bouncing with excitement. If he were a golden retriever with a tail, he’d be wagging it.
Just as abruptly, he looked down, slouching as if trying to shrink his large frame. “But isn’t there an age limit to join the League?”
“We don’t discriminate against anyone based on their ages.”
Superman whispered conspiratorially. “I don’t even know how old I was when my ship landed on earth. For all you know, it could have taken lightyears to get here.”
“Hmm,” Captain Marvel rubbed the back of his neck. “If you say so.”
“Take your time to think about it,” Superman handed him a League communicator. “This is for you. If you want to talk to us, just press this button,” he showed The Captain how to use the device.
“For me?” The guy looked as excited as a kid who had received a shiny new toy.
“Yes, for you,” Superman replied. “Call us when you’ve decided.”
“I want in,” Captain looked up, grinning from ear to ear.
“Then, welcome to the Justice League!” Superman shook his hand. “Come with me to our headquarters.”
*
The flight to the Justice League’s Headquarters with Superman was fun.
That giant satellite that Cap often flew past when he left earth’s atmosphere was the Justice League’s Watchtower - a secret meeting place for Justice League members.
Billy was flying with Superman.
Elated.
The SUPERMAN!
How cool was that?
His hero was a lot chattier in person.
Superman talked about Krypton, his home world. His dad uploaded all Krypton’s history and knowledge into the A.I. of the spaceship that brought Kal-el to earth.
Kal-el was Superman’s birth name.
“What’s your birth name?” Superman asked?
“William,” Cap replied.
“Wil-em,” Superman looked deep in thought.
“The Ems — I think I know your bloodline.”
“You do?” The thought that Superman even cared about Billy’s family warmed him like a cup of hot chocolate. But as far as Billy knew, he was a Batson, not an Em. He was four when he lost his family. It’s been three years since. His memories of Daddy, Mummy and Mary were beginning to fade.
“Come with me to my Fortress of Solitude after your induction and I’ll show you Krypton’s records about the Ems,” Superman grinned as he tapped on the satellite.
A panel slid open.
“Where is it?” Cap asked as he flew into the airlock.
“In the Arctic,” he accompanied Cap in the dock.
“Are there polar bears?” Cap felt giddy with excitement.
“Plenty,” Superman laughed as he walked Cap through the massive hall. It was like nothing Billy had ever seen.
“I can introduce you to a family of friendly bears,” Superman grinned.
“I would love that,” Billy’s heart did flip flops over the thought of getting to meet polar bears who were friends with Superman. Cap could speak all languages. He’d have a great time chatting with Superman’s bear buddies.
“Holy Moley,” Captain Marvel exclaimed as he walked through the security checkpoint. The doorway opened into futuristic corridor with interactive walls and holographic displays.
Announcing the arrival of Superman and his guest Captain Marvel, a tinny voice rang out.
“Brace yourself,” Superman whispered. “The rest of the League is waiting for us in the meeting room.”
A metallic panel slid open revealing a grand meeting room. Batman sat at the head of the long table. Wonder Woman, Flash, Green Lantern, Cyborg and Aquaman sat around it. There were two empty seats.
All eyes were on Captain Marvel.
“Holy Moley,” Cap whispered. He couldn’t help himself. It’s a bad habit he picked up from his late father.
“Guys,” Superman announced. “Captain Marvel has agreed to join the Justice League.”
The room broke into applause.
“Welcome to the team,” Flash whooped.
“Let’s celebrate,” Aquaman tilted a large bottle of whiskey, filled a glass and slid it across the table to Captain Marvel.
Cap looked at the glass in front of him and back at Aquaman. “Isn’t there an age limit?”
#billy batson#dc captain marvel#billy batson is captain marvel#captain marvel#shazam#dcu#fan fiction#justice league
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Guys I came up with a new DPxDC AU where we get Deaged!Dani(Ellie), Mom!Cass, and Dad!Danny.
"Cass... Are you sure you want to do this?" Tim asked one more time before he would put the last code in. He knew she was sure, more than willing to deal with it but he just needed one more confirmation before they all started what couldn't be stopped.
Cass stared at Tim, her face straight and her eyes firm without a hint of doubt. She nodded in his direction, despite the growing nervousness in her stomach for a second even with Stephanie squeezed her hand in reassurance and support.
Cass turned her gaze to the little girl, no older than thirteen, suspended in a tank full of green glowing goo and asleep. Her vitals showing up on screens near the tank coming from the wires that were hooked up to her inside the tank.
She said her name was Danielle Masters but had also said she wouldn't mind a new name once she was no longer just a clone but instead Cass's new daughter. She had only asked to include her 'dad', a Danny Fenton/Phantom, in her future naming decision too
Cass took a breath and said softly but determined "Save her."
Tim nodded back and entered the final code into the computer.
-x-x-
Basically-
Cass, while in Hong Kong, finds a destabilizing Dani.
Cass see's the desperation and fear Dani is in and helps as best as she can.
She manages to help but they both seem to know the next time this happens will be Dani's last.
Dani is very, very sick at this point and needs help even standing up.
Cass see's and remembers herself at this age and wants to help.
They do become friends and learn each other backstories
Cass goes to the one person she knows who might to be able to help with the destabilizing clone problem.
Tim, Tim is that person. (Because he's friends with Conner, and no doubt knows Conner's DNA and how it works, AND the fact he tried his hand at the whole cloning thing.... Tim told Cass everything once things settled down after his BruceQuest was done)
They fill him in on what is happening and he starts helping, mostly cause Cass asked and because "Clone rights!" (side note, he asked if its okay to tell Conner, when yes, Conner comes over and chats with Dani the entire time whenever he has free time) (the image of Conner sitting at her bedside as they chat is in my head btw)
Tim finds out the reason Dani is destabilizing so badly is because she's not 'complete', she needs a female donor technically because she's female not male (unlike Conner who is stable because he is male with male donors)
They find out that after trying to see of ways to save her that Cass was the closest that could donate her DNA (they also discover there might be a connection between ectoplasm and the Pits, they don't wanna run the risk of asking a LOA member) (If I remember right Cass grew around the Pits for a while and was even tossed in them after a fight with Shiva)
Tim also brings them news that Danielle's body is rapidly destabilizing due to her body/hormones trying to 'mature' her since she is at that age and she has less than a week.
Everyone knows there is no time to think of trying to save her in any other ways.
Tim says that if they do this, they have to technically 'remake' her body to the actual age she is (a couple months old/a few years old? Depends on the writer) and there was a high chance of her not remembering her old self. That the male DNA in her, the one that seemed to be the most is Daniel 'Danny' Fenton's DNA will be considered father DNA and if Cass does this, her's will be the mother DNA. (Vlad's DNA, because he would try to put his own in, would be 'pushed out')
Cass would become Dani's mother.
Both Cass and Dani talk about it.
Cass wants to help her, she had become friends with Dani and loves her like a little sister already but will try to love her as a daughter as well.
Dani wants to live an actual life.
They agree to it.
Tim sets everything up, Conner is helping around/keeping Dani comfortable/happy.
Cass told Steph and Babs whats happening and they're helping/being supportive once they find out everything.
Meanwhile Tim and Babs has Dick, and Damian go to Amity Park to find out whats happening there/bring Danny to her so they can explain what happened to Dani. (Dick and Damian have no clue why just yet but will find out when they get back, but oh boy is Amity a mess between the GIW, ecto-acts, crazy fruitloop mayor/villain ghost, and other stuff)
Cass and Tim tell Jason and he's helping Alfred (who basically already knows) set up a room for the newest arrival. Jason is gonna stick around if to just see Bruce's face when he gets called a 'grandpa' for the first time.
Duke takes this all in stride when told and just goes along with things now because this is life with the Batfam. He also helps with the room and keeping Dani company until the day.
Bruce was on a space mission thus comes home to find a new group of teens with his kids. One (with black hair and violet/purple eyes) is talking about a purple back gorillas with Damian and swapping vegan recipes, another (wearing a red beanie and has glasses) is getting into tech talk with Tim and Babs, a girl with red hair is talking classic books with Jason and giving Duke advice with school and stress, and another boy (one who could pass as one of his own adopted kids) is cracking jokes/puns with Dick, and telling Steph stories about his Rogues(!?).
Bruce isn't ready when Cass comes up behind him, nearly dancing in her spot and hands him something.
He is given a baby/toddler that looks like Cass but had darker hair and bright blue eyes.
He almost faints when Cass signs to him that he's holding his granddaughter, her baby.
He does faint when Cass notices the signs and takes her baby back before he falls over.
#danny phantom#danny fenton#crossover#dp x dc#blue rambles#danny phantom dc#writing ideas#random idea#dpxdc#Dad!Danny#Mom!Cass#Deaged!Dani#deaged!Danielle#Bruce wakes up confused and thinking he dreamed all of that#only to get hit by a wet tiny hand on his cheek#the baby/toddler was on his bed with him and was nomming on her own hand but once she realized he was awake she did the whole baby hit thin#Bruce has to come to terms that he is a grandpa now#He isn't happy when its finally explained#To be fair he left them alone#and they are chaotic#and just wanted to save a kid that finally gets to be an actual kid now#but hey they also discovered the Ecto-Acts. the GIW. evil mayor/fruitloop/evil ghost Masters. etc etc#AND they have new allies in Team Phantom#Also leaving the pairings open. Danny and Cass do not have to get together. They can be friends and just co-parenting
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It's funny to think about a scenario in which Luke manages to get Yoda off Dagobah and bring him back to the Rebellion. Maybe Obi-Wan left a message with R2 as a backup plan or something, so Luke got the message much earlier. Yoda is still too old and injured to fight, but he can train Luke while moving around as the Rebellion's new grandpa (and potentially reunite with characters like Ahsoka and Kanan and Cal and so on).
This AU is important to me because how it would look from an Outsider's POV:
"Uhhh, Luke," Han said. "What's that?"
"What's what?" Luke said, turning to look across the hangar bay. "Oh. That's Master Yoda. I went to Dagobah to get him, remember?"
Han studied the small, green, vaguely amphibious creature with long pointy ears and wisps of white hair, crouched underneath Luke's X-Wing and steadily eating its way though a bucket of... what the hell were those things? Eggs?
"That's your great Master Yoda?" Han said dubiously. He couldn't have helped it, so he didn't even try not to sound skeptical. "The one who's going to train you and Her Royal Highness in this... uh... penetrating life field magic?"
Those ragged brown blankets that it seemed to be wearing looked not unlike the dusty robes that Luke's old man had been shuffling around in, before getting killed back on the Death Star. Maybe.
"He's the wisest and most powerful Jedi Master alive," Luke said, like he was determined to be upbeat about it. "He's 900 years old. He said."
Han watched the creature dig around in the bucket some more, nearly sticking the entire upper half of its body inside. Its long ears wilted when it came up empty. It sat back with a loud, high-pitched harrumph and its wrinkled face scrunched up like a fruit rotting all at once.
"Yeah," Han said. "He looks it."
Luke shot him a betrayed look and Han just shrugged. He didn't have a problem with the kid and the princess finding some comfort in some hokey old religion. The kid's family had apparently been killed by troopers the day that Han had met him and Leia had watched her entire planet be destroyed, so whatever touchy-feely nonsense helped them deal with that helped.
But that didn't mean that Han wasn't going to call it like he saw it- "Uh, kid, is that your storage unit he's searching now?"
Luke groaned and put his head in his hands. "I left some ration bars in there, I think. I bet he can smell them."
This great Jedi Master was making a real mess of it. He threw one of Luke's things over his shoulder, where the tool hit R2-D2, and the small droid immediately let out a shocked series of beeps and chirps. The outraged blare when the droid traced the missile back to Yoda was even louder.
Han watched as the droid whirred briskly up to Yoda, then reached out with an extended grabber and yanked at the old Jedi's stick. Yoda shrieked in surprise. A tug-o-war started, which looked like it was going to have one or both of them falling over.
"Oh, no," Luke said.
People around the hangar bay were starting to stare. Han couldn't look away.
The droid released the wooden stick and Yoda let out a cry of triumph. Which turned into a yelp of pain, because R2-D2 had just zapped him with another extended tool, which crackled like a threat that the droid would do it again. Yoda's response was to smack the droid with his stick, repeatedly, grunting with the effort - and the loud clanging caught the attention of everyone who hadn't already been looking.
"You gonna, uh, you gonna do something about that?" Han said to the kid.
Luke sighed heavily, which definitely meant that this wasn't the first time something like this had happened. He stood up and waded into the mess, catching the stick with one hand and physically pushing the droid back with the other, ordering the old astromech and older Jedi Master to knock it off. He sounded just like a parent about to hand out some punishments.
R2-D2 beeped petulantly at Luke.
"I don't care who started it!" Luke said, his exasperation carrying. "This time or last time-! Ow!"
The great Jedi Master had just smacked Luke in the shin with that stick. Luke hopped on one foot for a few seconds, biting down on what probably would have been some nasty Huttese cursing. Yoda harrumphed again and then lurched back over towards his empty egg bucket.
R2-D2 made a sound that Han had, whether he liked it or not, already come to recognize meant: "I told you so."
"Oh, fuck off," Luke snapped.
Han threw back his head and laughed.
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deal - cl16 (36/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: Lets get drunk part two - with new opportunities.
Warnings: fluff, alcohol consumption
Word Count: 3.2k
series masterlist
previous part
A/N: hah. you thought you'd seen the last of me. feedback is appreciated!
"Okay," says Charles and sits back down next to you on the sun bed. He sets the basket down between you, with the necks of various bottles sticking out of it. "Are you more of a vodka girl or a tequila girl?" He pulls out two bottles and holds them out to you.
You examine the bottles before raising your hands. "Neither, to be honest." You carefully pull the basket towards you and take a look inside. Your hands turn the containers slowly so you can read the labels better, and when a bottle catches your eye, you grin at your roommate. "Here."
Charles takes the bottle you hold out to him. "Peach?" He looks at you and raises an eyebrow. "Quite summery."
You shrug your shoulders. "You promised to take me with you next summer so I could go swimming in the sea. I just want to prepare myself properly."
A smile spreads across his face. "Touché. All right." He reaches into the basket and fishes out two small shot glasses. He places them at the head of the sun bed to fill them with the peach liqueur. "You'll love it here during the summer. The sun is blazing, the sea is cold and the days are long." He carefully slides a glass over to you so that the contents don't spill over the rim. "It's like paradise."
You nod gratefully at him. "So now you definitely don't have a choice."
He looks at you, confused. "What do you mean by that?"
"Well," you sit up straight and pick up the shot glass. "You talked me up about the boat and summer at sea so much that you definitely have to bring me here next year." You grin at him. "So you have no choice but to take me with you."
"Oh no." He rolls his eyes in mock annoyance and reaches for his glass as well. "So I guess I can't get rid of you at all, huh?"
You shake your head excessively. "No fucking way. You definitely won't get me off this boat in the summer. And the deal about us sharing the apartment is on anyway." You tilt your head. "Even if you really tried, you wouldn't get rid of me that easily." You hold out your arm so he can clink glasses with you.
He looks you in the eye. There's a sparkle in his green ones as he knocks his glass against yours. "Thank God."
The peach liqueur tastes indescribably good and the longer you lie on the sun bed looking at the glowing Monaco in front of you, the more you drink of it. The stars above you twinkle and although it's getting colder, you're nice and warm. Whether it's the alcohol or Charles' laughter, you don't know.
"You've met Arthur yourself," he says as you have to press your face into the pillow to stop your laughter echoing across the ocean. "I swear, his April Fool's jokes are the worst! And you never see them coming!"
You giggle into your pillow. "Tell me you didn't fall for it." Hesitantly, you peek over the hem of the pillow to see Charles' blushing face. You quickly push it back into your face and laugh. "Oh, Charles!"
Your roommate grabs his own pillow and hits yours with it. "Don't laugh at me! You'll be affected soon enough! And then I'm not going to be the one to rescue you."
As you slowly calm down and wipe the tears from the corners of your eyes, you put the pillow back behind your head and look at him. "Trust me - by then Arthur will like me enough that we'll form an alliance. Then he certainly won't play any tricks on me."
Charles looks at you, dumbfounded. "Excuse me? I thought you and I were friends! You're supposed to stand on my side!" With a shake of his head, he reaches for the peach liqueur and refills your glasses.
You grin at him. "I don't form alliances with people who fall for stupid pranks like that."
He pushes your glass over to you. "All traitors." He shakes his head again. "I thought at least I had you on my side."
You raise your glass to your lips. "I'm always on your side, Charles. You're my best friend," you assure him, although the sentence leaves a nasty taste in your mouth. You wash it down with the liqueur. "But I'm not going to let Arthur take the piss just to make you feel better."
"You're a great best friend," he says and pours the liqueur into his mouth. "Just you wait and see. I won't save you if my brother does decide to play an April Fool's joke on you."
"You wouldn't dare," you reply with a grin. "Your mom would give you hell if she knew you were abandoning me." You grab the liqueur and fill your glasses again. "After all, she likes me better than you."
Charles watches you fill his glass to the brim. He presses his tongue into your cheek before licking his teeth. "I wish you were wrong." He holds out his arm for you to clink glasses with him. "Here's to my family liking you better than me."
You try to suppress your grin. "Don't worry, Charlie. I like you all the more for it," the alcohol speaks out of you and when you hear what you're saying, the blood rushes to your face. You quickly clink your glass against his and drink the liqueur so you don't have to look at the Monegasque in front of you.
As he puts his empty glass down, he grins at you. "'Charlie'? You're really going to give me a nickname?"
You roll your eyes and run your fingers through your hair so he doesn't notice your nervousness. "Don't worry," you try to play it down. Thank goodness he can't hear your rapid heartbeat. "I only use it when it's just us."
When you look at Charles again, he smiles at you softly. "I like the name," he assures you. "And if it stays your little secret and mine, I like it even more. It belongs only to you. Only you can call me that."
You smile at him before leaning back into your pillow and looking up at the stars. The night is clear, there isn't a single cloud in the night sky and the sea breeze on your face cools your alcohol-warmed skin pleasantly. You feel Charles lie down as well.
"Do you want to spend the night at my mother's tomorrow?" he asks quietly. When you turn your head in his direction, he's already looking at you. "I usually spend the night there. Maman always gets delicious wine and when we all get together, the evening gets pretty long." When you raise an eyebrow with a smile, he continues. "And there are plenty of rooms in the house. You're welcome to choose one of them. I'd hate to go back home for Christmas," he adds. "Especially because my mom would be alone and -"
"Charlie," you interrupt him. "We can spend the night at your mom's. There's nothing wrong with that." You wink at him. "Besides, I want to have a drink with Arthur and then I definitely can't go home."
He exhales with relief. "Very good." He turns his head forward and looks up at the stars too. "It's going to be a nice evening. My maman cooks delicious food and then we always play something. It's usually Uno or charades. You've heard how Monopoly turns out for us."
You have to giggle. "I would really like to play Monopoly with you," you admit quietly. "And I would never steal money from the bank either."
Charles exhales. "I'll take your word for that. But Arthur is more cunning than you think. He would steal money from the bank and make it look like it was you. You definitely don't want to play Monopoly with him."
You shrug your shoulders. "Then again, maybe I'm smarter than you give me credit for." You look up at the night sky again. "Maybe I can outsmart Arthur and win."
Your roommate laughs out loud. "Then you'd have to get past me first. And I'm certainly not going to let you win just like that. Not after you said you'd team up with my brother and not stand by me when he pulls his April Fool's pranks."
Offended, you reach behind your head for your pillow to smash it into his face, but Charles is quicker and snatches the pillow out of your hand before you can hit him with it. "You suck, Charlie."
"You love me. Just admit it," he grins and hesitantly gives you your pillow back, risking being exposed to your attack again.
But you merely wrap your arms around the pillow and hug it to your chest. Even through the feathers inside, you can feel how fast your heart is beating.
"Of course," you try to play down the swirling feelings inside you and hope that he doesn't notice the trembling in your voice. Or the truth in your words. "I'll still try to beat you at Monopoly. Or Uno. Or charades." Offended, you lie back on your pillow and cross your arms in front of your chest.
Charles sits up again and refills your shot glasses. He pushes it towards you like a peace offering. "Maybe I'll let you win," he smiles as you look at him. "After all, Christmas is the festival of love and I -" he continues, but is interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone.
You look at him in confusion. You'd love to know how he would have finished the sentence. "You have reception out here?" you ask him as he pulls his cell phone out of his pocket.
The Monegasque shakes his head and shows you his phone screen. "I had set an alarm clock."
You raise an eyebrow. "For what?"
He points to the time with his finger. It's midnight and therefore officially Christmas. He looks at you with a grin. "I have a Christmas present for you."
As he gets up from the sun bed and staggers onto the wood of the deck, you look at him indignantly. "No way," you reply, annoyed. "If I can't give you a present, then you can't give me one either."
"Calm down, mon ami," he says, swaying slightly from left to right as he circles you. The alcohol seems to have hit him hard too. "I'll be right back." Without another word, he disappears into the interior of the yacht, leaving you on the sun bed.
Annoyed, you sit up.
The fact that you're not allowed to give him a present has almost ruined your friendship. Just the memory of his words that he wants nothing from you but your friendship sends a cold shiver down your spine. You would love to tell him that you want more from him than friendship, that you desire him, that you want him for yourself - that you love him - but no amount of money in the world would make you reveal your feelings to him. If he actually knew how you felt about him, you would certainly lose the only good thing in your life. And you wouldn't risk that under any circumstances.
You run your fingers nervously through your hair. What could he possibly give you? You've never mentioned anything to him that he could possibly buy. And there's no way he'd change his mind in a day and confess his love for you. You'd have to be incredibly naive to believe that.
It's not his fault that he doesn't feel the same way about you as you do about him. It's not his fault that his words have torn your heart apart. And it's not his fault that he can't take your feelings into consideration if you don't tell him about them.
You take a deep breath and smile at him as he rejoins you. In his hand, he holds a brown envelope, which he hands to you as he drops back onto the sun bed next to you. When you look at him uncertainly, he nods at you. "Merry Christmas, mon ami."
Hesitantly, you open the envelope and pull out several pages of paper, held together at the top left corner by a paper clip. You immediately recognize your name on the first page, with Charles written underneath. The rest is written in French, which is why you look at your roommate even more confused than before. "What's this?"
Irritated, he takes the pages from your hand and lets his eyes wander over the letters for a moment before he hits his forehead a little too hard with the palm of his hand. "Shit. I thought they'd printed it out in English," he says, handing the papers back to you. I'm really sorry."
You raise an eyebrow. "And what's this?" Your eyes wander over the paper, trying to identify any of the words, until you unsuccessfully put the papers down in front of you.
"This, mon ami, is an employment contract," he explains with a smile and leans back a little.
"An employment contract?"
" Mh-hmm." He licks his lips once. "Remember when Joris mentioned that he had a new job?"
You nod. Of course you remember.
After you'd been to the place where Charles had been with his father in the past, you both went to Joris' and had lunch there. Joris had told you that he was starting a new job and when you had been there to burn Annika's things, he had talked about it too.
"Well," Charles says hesitantly. "Joris was my personal photographer. And now that he can no longer work for me and accompany me around the world because of his new job, I thought - well - maybe you'd like to be my new photographer. You - um - you don't have a job at the moment and - well - I thought it would be cool if you and I worked together," he babbles in one breath, blood rushing to his cheeks. "You'd travel with me to the Formula 1 races and take photos there, but of course you'd also spend a lot of time with me in private. Which would be a good fit, as you and I live together anyway and the fans loved the photo you took of me at the lookout point. And the one you just took of me turned out great too."
Your breath is stuck in your lungs.
Charles wants you to work for him? That you photograph him so he can post the pictures on Instagram? That you fly around the world with him?
You'd love to throw your arms around his neck with joy, but you just grin at him. "Are you serious?" When he nods, you squeal with excitement. "You're really serious, Charlie? You really want me to work for you?"
"Of course," he admits openly and smiles at you. "You and I are best friends. Why would I want to work with someone else when I have the perfect and best photographer literally sitting right in front of me? I'd be pretty stupid to ask anyone else."
Carefully and with shaky hands, you put the documents back in the envelope. "I - thank you. I don't even know what to say."
"Just say yes." He leans a little to the side so that he can push your full shot glass over to you. "You'll travel around the world with me, get paid incredibly well and spend a lot of time with me. I'll cover the travel expenses, of course. All you have to do is take good photos of me."
You look at him in amazement. "I'm getting paid and you're still covering the travel costs?"
Your flatmate laughs out loud. "Of course! What do you think? Whether I give you more salary so you can pay for your flights and everything yourself, or whether I pay you everything, it's the same in the end."
Heat shoots into your face. "Then at least let me give you money for the rent. Now that I have a job again."
He shakes his head vehemently. "Absolutely not. The money is yours, you can do anything you want with it."
"Except pay the rent," you reply and get his pillow thrown in your face.
"Exactly. Everything except pay the rent," he assures you. "So, what do you say, mon ami? Do you fancy exploring the world with me?"
You nod with a grin. "Definitely." You raise your shot glass. "Thank you, Charlie. That's the best Christmas present I've ever been given."
A blush creeps into his cheeks as he scratches the back of his neck nervously. "Really?"
You nod with a smile. "Definitely. I can't thank you enough for that."
The thought of being permanently close to Charles scares you as much as it makes you happy. As his best friend, you're looking forward to spending every minute with him, traveling the world and discovering the most beautiful places. And getting paid for it too.
As the woman who loves him, you're a little worried about what will happen if he meets someone he falls in love with while you're traveling. You don't want to imagine the pain if he gets into a committed relationship with someone and all you can do is stand on the sidelines and watch him be happy. There's no question that he deserves to be happy - but the thought that the person he's falling in love with isn't you makes you feel sick.
You try to suppress the thought and smile bravely at him. "It's absolutely the best present. Thank you so much, Charlie. No one's ever done anything like this for me before."
There is a loving sparkle in his eyes. "I'd do anything for you." Before he picks up his glass as well, he pulls out his cell phone again and taps on it. "Can I post it like this?" he asks you and holds his phone out to you. His screen shows the picture you just took, with a simple caption.
You shrug your shoulders. "I think so. But do you think it's a good idea to post something when you've had so much alcohol?" you ask him with a grin.
"Oh nonsense," he grins at you and taps his phone one last time before activating the keypad lock and putting it back in his pocket. "I only have good ideas when I'm drunk." He reaches for his shot glass and holds it out to you so you can clink glasses. "I'm glad you said yes. I can hardly wait."
"Me neither," you reply with a smile.
He takes a deep breath before his eyes search yours. He would love to put the glasses aside, pull you onto his lap and kiss you until you can't breathe, until the sun rises, until the world ends. But that's just the alcohol whispering to him, he thinks.
He knocks his glass against yours. "Here's to us."
-
liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55 and others tagged: yourusername charles_leclerc: ma mère approuve
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc prompt#charles leclerc blurb#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfiction#charles leclerc cute#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x yn#charles leclerc x female reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 fic
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Water drips down in the corner, the steady dop drop drop— does wonders for the bat.
Batman has been taken, tied up, and undressed of his utility belt. It takes him a second to figure out who took him, by the large but empty and run down warehouse, the sound of the shore not far away.
The docks. He shuffles, bound and comm off.
Then, the steel enforced door slams open and Joker enters.
"Batsy!" He calls, overjoyed. The man walks to the bound vigilante and crouches to his height.
"It's been so long, hasn't it been?"
The vigilante grunts. "Joker."
"Today will be different." He goes on, "today, we have," the crime Prince drums his fingers on Batman's thigh. "A guest!"
He freezes at that, Joker has a civilian.
(Oracle sends out the message, her voice firm, and the coords are shared to the rest of the clan in seconds as she looks at her monitor. Batman's red dot at the harbour bright.)
"I'm a guest now?" The voice of a child asks, it brings slight confusion that the boy wasn't tied nor harmed in any way.
It's relief that he seems okay, but the danger of standing next to the Joker has Batman wiggling in his restrains.
"Is that a promotion or demotion for son?"
A brief look of annoyance enters Joker before being smoothed out, the boy is dealing with a delicate time bomb. Uncomfortably close to the madman.
(He hurries in the process of breaking free.)
"My son! My blood!" Sings the clown, throwing his hands around the boy's shoulders and prancing around.
Which brings another question.
Son?
Cool lighting hits the boy's head and the tuffs of pink, blue and green become more obvious, hidden beneath black hair previously.
Joker and Harley have a child. A son.
He will visit harley later. The boy comes first.
"Dante! Danyal! Daniel?" Joker croons, shaking the boy. "What was it again?" He stops, turning his son toward him with a grin.
(Robin drops down behind him, hiding, katana ready to be swung.)
"Danny, actually," the child— Danny– shrugs off the hands and steps back. Unflinching from the judging stare, simply waving off the hands creeping to his throat.
"Danny," the name is tested, and the Prince of Crime hums to himself. "We can always replace it as Joker Jr! It fits you better than Danny."
(Red Robin and Spoiler get on position above them, ready to pounce from the construction pillars.)
"Yeah, I don't know about that." He chuckles nervous, catching Batman's eyes and—
His eyes alone scream of fear, scared– scared—!!
"We will get you an acid flower, a new suit as well, the hoodie looks horrible on you." The man notes, humming.
"I prefer hammers." Danny replies with tense shoulders.
Joker clicks his tongue, "You always went after your mother." he hisses, outright glaring at his son now. His hand tightened around the crowbar he'd gathered not long ago.
"I mean," he hesitates, eye trailing off the Joker and over his shoulder. "I did come out of her."
The sound of a loaded gun shatters the silence, and Joker is pulling Danny, switching their positions and pushing him right in front of the gun in Red Hood's hand.
"Always a coward, hiding behind others, aren't you." Danny stops himself from squealing. That's the Red Hood!
(Escrima sticks light up with electricity as Red Hood speaks.)
Joker is ticked off, party ruined and surrounded now that he looks around.
Oh well, he can get his son on his villain path another day.
Cackling, he evades the escrimas, dodging the wonder boy and evading the twin attacks from above.
He pulls out a trigger and presses the bright red Button.
"Have fun bats and birds!"
The warehouse is completely flooded with fear gas, scarecrow wouldn't be mad he sacrificed one of his warehouses, will he?
It's all blurry. In one moment, his view is shrouded, and he's coughing. In another, he gets picked up and brought outside, the Joker gone.
An oxygen mask is placed on him by a paramedic, being handed off to an ambulance that had been called.
Peeking around, he sees Red Hood (!) still lingering around. Danny catches his eye and with a wave, the man is walking towards him.
He simply crosses his arms and tilts his head, waiting.
"Could I get a picture?" Danny blurts out, flushing after and coughing, holding the oxygen mask in his lap.
Red Hood makes a show of his shoulder sagging before crouching down and leaning toward him.
Later, Danny will look at the picture with a boyish grin, crooked and charming.
.・゜-: ✧ :-
A continuation
#dcxdp#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc#fic prompt#writing prompt#dc x dp prompt#idk how the chemicals in joker and harley would affect a child tbf#so danny gets nice tuffs of blue pink and green#danny is the kid of Joker and Harley Quinn#look man#if harley was aware he was back in gotham she would have killed the joker before he knew of his son#batman is so confused#who allowsd the joekr to reproduce#edited: im actually been thinking ahrd decided the original was better#child danny would be greay to traumatize#also#dannys fav robin was the sec one#he has a complicated relationship with his dad#or rayher no relationship at all#hes gonna bash this mans head in with a hammer#harley will be so proud#sorry rebloggers for changing it!!!
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City Pigeons - Part 10
WC: 817, Masterpost
Jason sighed as the tablet in his hands flashed with alerts. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“How did the meeting with Black Bat go?” Bruce asked instead of responding, because of course he did.
“You know it went fine,” Jason said, trying not to snap. “Besides, everyone likes her, there was a good chance it was always going to go fine.”
“We both know trauma isn’t always that easy,” Bruce said, his tone carefully modulated to be gentle. It rankled Jason, like it always did.
Jason took a breath and let his chin drop to his chest for a moment. Bruce didn’t mean it like that. He knew that now. This was Bruce trying as best as he was able— it wasn’t just another mask. Bruce just had to put effort into emotions that made it seem forced. Jason pushed away his flair of temper; it was harder to do than he’d like after too much worry and too little sleep.
“Ja—”
“I’m fine. It’s just like you said, trauma isn’t always that easy. I’m fine,” Jason said as he waved the concern away. “And names. You know we’re sticking to code names still.”
Bruce tilted his head, observing Jason through the white lenses. (That used to rankle too.)
“You thinking there’s a chance he’ll run.”
Jason sighed. He gave an exaggerated shrug to cover the worry that ran through him at the question. “Not run, exactly. I think he doesn’t believe that he can stay— that it’s even on the table. I think that we’re his last hope and he doesn’t believe in hope anymore.”
Bruce didn’t move. Jason gave him time to think that over.
“That’s why he doesn’t want to see… Wayne,” Bruce said, slowly, like he was feeling the idea out. “He doesn’t expect to get anything from him so it’s better to be healed up first.”
Jason shrugged again.
“Figure so. But also once that meeting happens, whatever happens, then all of this,” Jason motioned to the safe house, “is over as far as he knows. If he puts off the meeting, he puts off the risk of losing the first safety that I think he’s hand in a long, long time.”
Bruce’s shoulders hunched and he almost blended back into the shadows by the window. “If he’s already posed for it to go badly…”
“B, that’s not your fault,” Jason said— had to say. “The kid’s been through hell, maybe by his own family, of course he’s going to expect the worst.”
It was a long moment and then Bruce nodded, just once. “What’s the plan?”
If Jason really had his way, the plan would be to deal with all these ill feelings, but that’s not what anyone in the family was good at, him included. It would be what it would be.
“We’ll have BB over again for a meal tomorrow. I’m sure it will keep going well and she can help be on watch that night. We think it’s best to give that a few days before we introduce O or anyone else new, so you have to keep the rest of the horde reigned in,” Jason said pointedly. Then a though occurred to him. “Where is the little spawn anyways?”
“He’s on the roof across the block.”
“Yeah, is he? Because that was a lot of alerts—”
“Hood!”
Jason didn’t think before he was striding across the room towards Danny’s room. The kid was standing in the door. White hair stark in the low light. Green eyes bright.
Glowing.
Wide with fear.
“Danny?”
“Someone else is here,” Danny said. His voice was almost too quiet to hear, but Jason could half swear he felt it in his very bones. Danny reached out and clung onto the sleeve of Jason’s hoodie. A cold settled into Jason’s bones along with the vibration of the soft words. “Someone touched by death. Can you feel them too? They’re not not like us. They haven’t died. They haven’t died, but they reek of death. Hood, what are they?”
“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe here, remember?” Jason assured Danny automatically. The words rolled out of his mouth without Jason having to even think about them, which was good, because Jason’s mind was still caught on Danny’s words: They’re not like us. They haven’t died. “Some Bats just stopped by to check on us.”
Was it Bruce? Did all of Gotham’s death cling to his shoulders like his cape?
Was it Damian? Was it the stench of the Pits?
Or did Jason miss something else slipping in with all of the other alarms.
“We’ll go check on Nightwing together, alright? I bet he has a little red and black guest who slipped in,” Jason said. He twisted his hand to hold Danny’s. The cold bit at his skin. He didn’t let go.
He hoped he was right.
He had a hard time believing in hope too.
---
AN: A myyyyyyyystery *wiggly fingers*. Gods I'm so tired.
I no longer tag, you can subscribe to the masterpost instead!
#jason has therapy but he still hates feelings#bruce doesn't know how people do feelings#this is a problem#dp x dc#batpham#city pigeons
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I HAVE COME BACK! i loved what you did with my request omg <3 but now i have something real dirty i wanna ask of you my lovely.
is it possible we can get a mermaid type thing? so what i'm picturing is kinda like the original Ariel movie yk? so the reader can have a giant fish tail and can speak underwater but instead of losing a voice when they shift to two legs, they lose vision :DDD
really it's like the blindfold kink without a blindfold lmaoo but can we also get the reader to be a bit on the chubbier side? reader likes to eat too much krill lol TYSM MY LOVELY you work so hard i love youu
I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH!!!!
König x Mermaid!Reader (fem)
Part 2
MDNI🔞
Master List ✍🏽
>cw: fem/afab, sketchy deals, blindness, groping
2.0k word count
���♀️
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Last week you’ve noticed a ship docked in the port; you typically scour for human inventions. Your first thought is excitement about all the new things that might be tossed into the sea or on shore for you to grab. Yet, it’s not the little treasures that keep bringing you back.
You linger miles away from the shoreline, watching as the men on the ship wake up. Only the top of your head peeking through the water so you aren’t spotted. Your eyes instantly focus on him. He towers over all the other men, his pale skin turning red from exposure to the blistering sun. It’s almost as if your heart stops beating when you see him. He’s perfect, worth leaving the safety of distance to get a closer look.
König walks on to the dock with his men, his mind fuzzy as he recovers from heat exhaustion; not being able to fully rest. He has never felt this level of disorientation before. As he walks along the boardwalk, his flash falls off his hip into the water. His eyes shift, looking as he sinks lower down into the water.
“Scheiße.”
König stops, pulling off his white shirt and dark blue pants, tossing them aside so they don’t weigh him down. He dives into the blue water, swimming down after his flask. Out of the corner of his eye he sees a shape, causing him to panic, missing his flask as he turns around to swim back up.
This is the closest you’ve ever been to a human, to him. You watch him return quickly to the surface without his item, so you grab it for him. König breaks the water, crawling up on to the shoreline. He lies on his back breathing deeply from the adrenaline that just rushed through his body. His eyes remain watching the water, yet he sees no shark fin. Could he be seeing things still?
With his flask in hand, you poke your head out of the water. Your eyes instantly locking with his pale blue eyes. After a moment of intense eye contact, you lift your arm with his flask. König sits slack jaw looking at you, a beautiful woman in the water.
Your head goes back underneath as you swim closer to him, showing up only a foot away from one another. You take your time to study his features, how beautiful he looks. His skin was covered in scars and his eyes locked onto you.
“Hallo?” König says in a small voice that surprises himself.
“Hello.” You bring up his flask to hand to him, coming up onto land more.
König ignores the flask in your hand. Instead, he looks at your whole body. Your skin seems impossibly soft, your large breasts bare without a top also exposing your chubby stomach. As his eyes travel down, the color of a bright green and iridescent blue looking fish's tail follows you.
“König!” A group of voices shout from behind him.
“I’ll be right there!”
He turns to look behind him at his men calling for him. Once he turns back to face you, you’re gone. Nowhere to be seen. His eyes frantically search for your presence, but the only thing that remains is his flask pushed into the sand.
“König, come on. We’re late to start the day.” One of his men, Alan, says as he approaches him on the beach.
“Did- did you see her?” König asks, still searching the ocean for you.
“Who?” Alan looks down confused.
“There was… a naked woman. I think she was a woman.”
“I think the suns getting to you again, maybe you should get in the shade and drink something.” Alan tries to suppress the chuckle in his voice so he doesn’t anger the testy giant.
“I heard her speak…maybe you’re right.”
König stands and grabs his flask, walking back to the dock to get dressed before following his men to the small port city so he can get fresh water to drink. The image of your full breasts and soft plush body lingers in his mind. The way your voice sounded so sweet… if you’re a dream come true, he hopes to see you again soon.
You rush back to your home, full of excitement and heart full of love. A soft hum leaves your lips as you dance in the water, celebrating your new found love. That all stopped once you noticed Tabatha, the sea witch, lingering by the entrance of your home. She looks over at you with a knowing smile on her lips.
“Hello, little princess.” She greets you with disdain in her voice.
“What are you doing here?” You stop swimming and stare at her, guarded.
“Oh, nothing.” Her tentacles push her off the rocks behind her body. “Just noticed you were gone today during your fathers gathering.”
“I’m allowed to have my own life—”
“A life near the surface of the water? Near…humans?” She smirks at you as he swims closer, circling your body with her slender long frame.
“Please don’t tell my father.” You instantly begin to beg, the thought of him finding out terrifies you.
“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I just wonder why you never come to me…” Tabatha fakes a voice of sadness as her shoulders drop.
“What do you mean?” Her act works, piquing your interest.
“Well, you know I make miracles happen.” Tabatha turns her head slightly, masking her smirk as her blonde hair flows in the water.
“But at what cost?”
“You can’t expect a witch to work for free. It’s always a fair trade, it’s not my fault some don’t…follow through.” She turns to face you again.
“Well, what are you offering me?”
“Human legs. Lungs. The ability to leave your oppressive father and explore the world you desire to be a part of. You can fall in love with that sunburnt lover boy.” Tabatha gets close to you, so close her tentacles begin reaching out and caressing your flowing hair.
“What do you expect back?”
“Oh, it’s nothing really…” She goes behind you, whispering in your ears. “Just your sight.”
“My sight? Are you insane?”
“What? Don’t they say love is blind? So, what will you need your vision for?” There is almost a sound of glee in her voice, she’s aware of how tempting her offer to you is.
“But… I’d miss seeing his face.”
“Oh, princess, you’ll get your vision back eventually—if you can make him fall in love with you with this…ailment…then it’s true love.”
You look off into the entrance of your decorated cave. “What if he doesn’t?”
“Then I’ll keep your vision and you’ll be forced to navigate the ocean sight unseen. A risk, of course, but I’m sure you’ll succeed.”
You close your eyes and think about König. His pale eyes and skin, the scars litter his face and body. You’ll miss looking at him, but if it’s temporary. Tabatha’s tentacles grab your arms and spin you around to face her. She looks into your eyes, seeing the desperation. She knows she has to add a bonus to push you off the edge, making you take the risk.
“You’ll also be able to return home…see your sea family. If you’d even want too by then.”
“I could?”
“Of course. There are spells for everything.”
“Why are you being so helpful?”
To spite the king, your father. So she can punish him for banishing her for simply having a different body. With you out of water, he would be lost. Broken. With you here simply a helpless creature blinded by love—that’s even better.
“I’ll do it.”
The words escape your lips before you can even second guess yourself. You watch as her eyes darken with pleasure. She caresses your face with her hands as he holds you at the waist with two tentacles.
“Good choice. Look into my eye. Just don’t look away.”
You gaze at her blackened eyes. Slowly, you feel yourself getting light headed. Everything around you begins to fade, your body falling into a sleep-like state. Soon enough you’re out of it, puddy in Tabatha’s grip.
König comes back to the ship, later than the rest of his men. His body was exhausted in the tropical heat. He walks slowly and looks over to the beach where he saw you earlier only to stop in his tracks. You. It’s you.
König rushes to you, his body getting a rush of adrenalin as you lay there. As he approaches, he notices that you’re completely naked. Your plump body is on full display for him. While he wants to look away and be a gentle man, you just look so delicate. He kneels near your body, gently grabbing your shoulder and laying you on your back. His eyes exploring your breasts and apron stomach. Your thighs look welcoming with a forest of hair between your legs guarding your sacred cunt. You can’t possibly be real.
“Hallo? Fräulein?”
You hear his voice as you slowly come to. The feeling of his warm hands radiating throughout your whole body. Your face turns to him, opening your eyes to gaze up at him, but see nothing. There is simply nothing. A hand reaches out to caress his face, fingers tracing down his nose to his thin lips.
König watches your face as you explore him. You’re the woman from before, yet your eyes are pale and you seem to lack your vision. The green tail is now gone. He knows it’s you though, your beautiful face and supple body.
“My name is König.” Your heart flutters hearing the name he was called earlier, it’s him. “Are you okay? Can you speak?”
“Y-yes.” Your voice sounds like a chorus of angels to König.
“What is your name?”
“I’m y/n.”
“Are you lost? You can’t see.” He says as a statement as your hand travels to his jaw.
“I am.”
“How did you even end up here?”
“I don’t know. I passed out and woke up here.”
König’s eyes travel over your body before gently grabbing you, lifting you from the sand. Poor thing probably is suffering from exhaustion. Your body feels cold against his body, a welcomed sensation. He walks you back to his ship, making sure to head straight to his small cabin.
The sounds around you seem louder, each step he takes on the wood beneath him seems to boom in your ears. You wiggle your toes, feeling your new feet. A whole new body you have to explore. You can hear a heavy door close before being sat on a soft fabric.
König takes a seat next to you, his massive body completely towering over you. He reaches out and caresses your arms. A shiver runs over your body, never having been touched so delicately before. His eyes see goosebumps forming on your skin.
“You’re a very beautiful woman.”
You place a hand on your own thigh, feeling it. He watches you closely as your hand moves up to the patch of hair covering your pussy. Unable to resist, he places his hand on your other thigh. In a slow motion, he rubs a circle on the soft skin of your inner thigh. You let out a sigh and open your legs more to permit him more space.
König gazes at you, taking this as the invite he was desiring. His large hand moves up until he grazes against the fluffy bush, gently pushing past to touch your folds. His finger grazes over your clit to see your reaction. Your leg twitches and a surprised moan leaves your lips.
The simple touch of his finger felt like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Being unable to see his next move sends a jolt of excitement through you. A spark in passion is ignited and you feel hopeful you’ll be able to make him fall in love with you. He’s already obsessed with your body; he can easily fall in love with your mind.
Part 2
#konig#könig#konig cod#konig x y/n#konig smut#könig mw2#könig cod#konig x reader#könig x reader#könig smut#light smut#cod smut#konig x reader smut#smut#könig call of duty#konig call of duty#cod konig#cod könig#konig mw2#konig x you#könig x y/n#könig x you#x mermaid!reader#konig x mermaid
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Before Sunrise - A Family Of Her Own Series
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
A Family of Her Own Series
3/7
Masterlist | General Masterlist
w/c: 3.3k
Summary: After the fall of the Avengers, Natasha Romanoff returns home to her secret family—a life she's carefully hidden away for years. Struggling to balance her role as a mother and wife while avoiding the dangers of her past, Natasha is forced to make difficult decisions that impact her loved ones.
This Chapter: Natasha has a secret family. Set during the BW films. She brings her Red Room family to meet them. She has a moment with her daughter.
Part 3 of many more.
Just like the night, the house was quiet in the early hours of the morning, the kind of stillness that only comes before the world wakes up. Natasha moved quietly through the hallway, her bare feet making no sound on the wooden floor. Despite being away so often, she knew her daughter’s rhythms like second nature—how Stella always woke up just before the first hint of sunlight touched the horizon.
As she pushed open the door to Stella’s bedroom, the soft creak of the hinges sounded louder in the silence, but it didn’t disturb the little girl. The room was painted like an aquarium, deep blues and greens swirling together, with playful fish and, of course, a giant shark on one wall. Stella’s obsession with sharks had taken over every part of her imagination, but despite the ocean theme, she had recently begged for a new princess-style bed set, complete with pink sheets and a tiara-shaped pillow.
Natasha smiled faintly as she took it all in, her heart tugging at the juxtaposition of her daughter’s fierce fascination with predators of the sea and her innocent love for all things sparkly and soft.
She quietly made her way to the rocking chair tucked in the corner, the same one she had rocked Stella in as an infant. Natasha eased herself into the chair, making sure her movements were slow and deliberate.
Sitting there she let her eyes trace over Stella’s small sleeping frame. Her daughter looked so peaceful, her soft breaths steady and uneven. This was the quiet Natasha craved. The moments when everything felt so simple.
The ticking of a clock was the only sound, rhythmic and soothing. Natasha knew Stella would stir soon, her internal clock always waking her before the first light of day. That was part of why she had come in early—to be here, to sit with her daughter before the day inevitably pulled her back into the chaos she couldn’t seem to escape. Even if she couldn’t always be present, she wanted to savor these moments, the ones where she could just watch over her without needing to rush off to fight someone else’s battles.
But as she sat there, a familiar ache settled in her chest. Being gone so much meant missing out on these quiet mornings. The guilt gnawed at her, especially now, watching how peaceful Stella looked. Remembering how excited Stella looked to see her just yesterday morning made her want to call all of this off. Leave Tony to deal with the mess they created. It would be too selfish.
Natasha allowed herself to settle into the rocking chair, peace finding her once again, and she closed her eyes. The familiar rustling of blankets caused her to open them again. Stella stirs against her blankets before sitting up. She sways gently, fighting whatever sleep calls to her, as she surveys the room. She rubs tiredly at her eyes.
“Mommy,” She calls out for you. Though you wouldn’t come. Not when Natasha asked for this morning alone with your daughter.
“I’m here, love,” Natasha says softly.
Stella turns to her, and even in the dimness of the room, she can make out her features—the slight smile that spreads across her face. It seems she forgot that Natasha was home.
“You real?” Stella asks.
Natasha chuckles.
It was a game they had played before. In the middle of the night when Stella would wake from a bad dream, sometimes she would think she was in the past, her mind playing tricks on her.
“I am real,” Natasha nods.
Stella crawls across her bed and onto her knees. She leans forward, reaching out to cup her cheek. She squishes it with her tiny hands and grins.
Natasha reaches out and takes hold of Stella.
“Mama’s home,” Stella whispered as she pressed herself deeper into Natasha’s arms.
Natasha presses her lips to the top of Stella’s head.
Stella curls closer to Natasha, a sigh leaving her. Natasha rocks her back and forth until her breathing steadies out and her body relaxes.
“I love you,” Natasha whispers.
“Mama?” Stella looks up at her with big brown eyes. Natasha studies the features of her daughter. She hums, letting her know she is listening.
Stella shifts in her lap, pressing her nose into her neck.
Natasha closes her eyes and holds her tight.
“Are you going on another airplane?” Stella asks. Of course, most of it sounds like gibberish as she is only two and developing a vocabulary but Natasha understands it nonetheless.
She sighs heavily and kisses the top of her head.
Natasha didn't want to tell her, didn't want her to have to go through the process of waiting for her mom to return.
“Not today,” Natasha answers.
“I don‘t want you to go on any more airplanes,” Stella shakes her head. “I just want you to be my Mama and stay home.”
Natasha feels tears prickle in her eyes. The little girl snuggled into her mother’s chest, unaware of the storm she’d just stirred.
Natasha squeezed her, her grip firm yet tender, but she didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. Her throat tightened, and for the first time in a long while, she felt completely helpless. She rocked them back and forth, trying to maintain the rhythm, as if that could soothe both of them, as if the gentle motion could drown out the ache in her chest.
Back and forth. Back and forth.
Each rock of the chair was an attempt to hold herself together, but Natasha could feel the cracks widening. The words repeated in her head, tearing through her defenses. I just want you to be my Mama and stay home.
She had faced down armies, survived impossible missions, but this—this tiny request from her daughter—felt like a blow she couldn’t recover from.
The tears prickled in her eyes, stinging with the weight of everything she couldn’t say. The truth, the life she lived, the constant leaving—it all flashed through her mind, and for the first time, it felt like she had failed at the one thing that truly mattered. How could she explain to Stella that being Mama wasn’t something she could always do? That her other life—the one filled with danger and sacrifice—wasn’t something she could walk away from, even if it meant breaking her daughter’s heart?
Stella pulled back just slightly, her wide eyes staring up at Natasha, waiting for an answer, for reassurance that Mama would stay.
But Natasha couldn’t lie. Not to her. Not to this little girl who looked at her like she was her entire world. The lump in her throat grew, and she felt the sting of tears pressing harder, threatening to spill over.
“Oh, baby…” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady.
She kept rocking. Back and forth. Back and forth.
But no matter how much she rocked, the ache wouldn’t go away. Stella didn’t understand why Natasha left, why she couldn’t be like other mothers who stayed home and tucked their children into bed every night. And how could she? Natasha had crafted a life of secrecy and danger, one that her daughter couldn’t begin to fathom.
The silence between them stretched, broken only by the soft creak of the chair and the quiet sniffle from Stella, who had already nestled back into Natasha’s arms. Natasha kissed the top of her head, holding her as close as she could, as if holding her tight enough might somehow make up for all the times she couldn’t be there.
But it wouldn’t.
And for the first time in a long time, Natasha let the tears fall. Not because she was scared, not because she was angry, but because she finally let herself feel the weight of what she had sacrificed. She could take down enemies and save the world, but she couldn’t protect her daughter from the one thing she longed for most—her mother.
Back and forth. Back and forth.
She rocked them both, knowing that no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t promise Stella what she truly needed. She could only be there for this moment, holding on for as long as she could, before the world would pull her away again.
And in that moment, Natasha felt like the biggest idiot for ever believing she could balance both worlds without breaking something—without breaking someone.
“Mama, why you not talking?” Stella asks, the confusion on her face reminding Natasha so much of you.
She smiles sadly and presses her lips to the top of her head, inhaling deeply.
She was here, holding her, and even though it wasn't forever, she would soak up every moment.
“I’m sorry,” It leaves her lips in a broken mess. One Stella doesn’t catch. “I’m sorry for leaving you.”
Stella doesn't say anything, her fingers clutching tighter around her neck.
Natasha sighs deeply, her fingers brushing softly over the crown of her head.
Natasha swallows tightly. “You’re my baby and I love you.”
“Yeah, I know,” Stella nods. “Mommy tells me that every day.”
Natasha nods, her lips pulling into a smile.
Her fingers curl into the hem of her shirt and Natasha leans forward.
She closes her eyes, trying to hold onto the moment for just a little longer.
“It’s almost my birthday and then I’m going to be three,” Stella reminds her. “So big. Right? I’m even taller right now.”
Natasha nods, opening her eyes, watching the way her daughter wiggles and moves, showing her height.
Stella stops moving, her eyes widening.
Natasha blinks back tears but doesn't look away.
“Mommy says I need a haircut soon,” Stella grips tendrils of brown hair before dropping her hand. “I want my hair to be like Rapunzel.”
Natasha lets out a watery laugh.
Her daughter was so beautiful and innocent.
Natasha presses her face against the top of Stella's head, the scent of her strawberry shampoo filling her nose.
“Mama, did you see my baby brother? He was sick yesterday but Mommy takes good care of him,” Stella reminds her.
“Your Mommy always takes good care of you both,” Natasha says. Stella simply chuckles. She agrees.
“Can we go eat breakfast now?” Stella asks her.
Natasha lets out a breathless chuckle, shaking her head at her daughter.
Natasha sets Stella on her hip, standing slowly from the rocking chair.
She carries her down the hallway towards the kitchen. They could eat breakfast together.
next part
#do we want more ?#natasha romanoff#black reader#natasha x reader#black widow x reader#black widow x female reader#natasha romanov#natasha x you#afamilyofherownau
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Simmer #6
CH6. Spilled Milk | The Menu [4.3K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.
The diner was busy.
Too busy. In fact, it was chaotic. An unusual brunch time rush on the hottest Saturday in August. The first in the month and the official marking of your two month birthday at Jim’s Grill. Not that it mattered, no one was able to celebrate it, not even yourself.
A greyhound and a private coach had pulled into the parking lot within ten minutes of each other, tourists pouring out of them in big families, clusters of hikers, campers and back water town enthusiasts ready to order everything from the menu. Jim had lit up at the sight, the bell above the diner door jingling over and over and over again, before the man looked at Eddie through the hatch and his face fell into a panicked expression.
“Shit.”
Steve was already smiling until his cheeks ached, his customer service voice ringing out through the din of the crowd as he tried his best to get everyone seated, him and Jonathan pushing tables together to cater for the family that arrived with seven kids in tow.
Jim was on the phone in his office, barking out orders before they turned into pleas, the garish orange receiver clutched between two hands before he closed his eyes, mouthed a prayer and then pumped his fist in the air. Twenty minutes later, Dustin Henderson was storming through the diner with two other teens trailing behind him, looking far more begrudging about whatever they’d obviously been roped into.
Hopper handed them aprons and promised, “cash in hand at the end of the night and an extra twenty if you get through this without breaking anything.”
A deal was made and soon, a red headed girl called Max Mayfield was flying between tables on bright green roller skates, bussing tables with a bored expression on her freckled face. Behind her, Jonathan’s little brother Will was delivering trays of drinks, narrowly avoiding Dustin as he brought Eddie’s famous stacked burgers out by the dozen.
It was chaos. It was too warm, and god, it was so loud. But fuck, the tips were great. Your apron was stuffed with bills and order tickets, your fingertips red from the amount of times you’d caught them between the metal clips you hung them from above Eddie’s station. It was too busy to talk, to chat and flirt quietly in this new way you’d both grown brave enough to do. The boy was frazzled, side by side with Argyle by the grill as the flipped patties and fried eggs and bacon, a new batch of rolls dangerously close to burning in the oven. The timer was screaming, something else was buzzing, the workstations were the messiest you’d ever seen them and there was a puddle of spilled milk by the door.
“Door! Behind!” You yelled out amongst the noise, eyes wide at the orders sitting by the hatch still to be delivered. Nancy and Robin were taking plates six at a time, hands and arms full, their balance nothing short of impressive. “Eddie, sorry, but table six wanted extra hash browns with their brunch combo not an egg—”
You didn’t get to finish your sentence before Eddie was taking the plate from you and sliding the perfectly fried egg into the trash. He barely looked at you, something you tried not to frown at because his mouth was set in a strained line and there were beads of sweat gathering at curls on his forehead. “Argyle, time on those hash browns?” Eddie barked, eyes still on the burgers he was placing cheddar slices on top of.
Argyle was scraping crispy potato pieces around the griddle, salt and pepper and some other spices poured on top as he worked at breakneck speed. “Three minutes, chef,” Argyle called back and Eddie grunted in return.
You felt stupid, standing there aimlessly with a customer's plate in your hand and before you could get out of the way, Eddie was moving you himself. Big, wide hands on the tops of your arms, guiding you out of the path of the door just before Steve burst through it. He narrowly missed the spilled milk.
“Door!” He yelled a fraction later than he should’ve. Eddie glared at him. “Corner! Fuck, where’s the fucking syrups? Eddie? Ed! Where’s the syrup!”
You watched Eddie squeeze his eyes shut before he groaned, killing the heat on the grill just as Argyle appeared at your side to slide the freshly cooked hash browns onto the plate. You smiled, grateful. “Thank you.”
“Open your fuckin’ eyes, man! They’re on the shelf!” Eddie was furiously wiping his hands on his stained chef whites, a dish towel tucked into the ties of his apron as he started assembling burger after burger.
Bun. Sauce. Patty. Cheese. Bacon. More sauce. Lettuce. Pickles. Tomato. Fried egg. Perfect yolk. Crispy onions. More sauce. Bun.
“What shelf?!” Steve yelled back, the pantry contents rattling as he pushed his way past huge bags of sugar and jars of homemade jam. “Eddie, it’s not fucking there!”
Robin barged in the door, not announcing her arrival to anyone and the edge of it slammed Argyle as he walked past carrying piles of grease filled frying pans. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry dude!” Eddie glared at her. “Door?” She said weakly.
“Why is everyone in my fuckin’ kitchen!” Eddie yelled and diners closest to the hatch peered in at him, disapproving expressions on their faces as their kids with ketchup smeared chins laughed. “Buckley! What is it?”
“There’s like, seven tables asking for maple syrup. Where is it?”
Everyone groaned, eyes rolling and Eddie threw his hands to the ceiling. “It’s on the fuckin’ shelf, but Harrington is too blind to see them. Christ, Argyle, start getting these burgers out, Harrington fuckin’ move man—”
It all happened a bit too fast, that’s all. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, not really. Just a classic case of spilled milk. No need to cry over it, right? That’s what they said.
Argyle dumped the pans into the sink with a crash, slipping between you and Eddie’s workstation as he tried to get to the burgers before they went cold. Eddie was pushing past Robin to get to Steve who was still arguing and well, Robin might’ve stepped forward at the same time you stepped back to avoid Argyle. Plateful of hash browns held high, you tried to stop them from falling. You tried not to elbow Argyle in the face and god, you tried really hard not to completely crash into Robin despite the way her shoulder caught yours.
You stepped back again, someone yelled ‘door!’ and the sound of Max’s roller blades ripped through onto the kitchen tiles, sending everyone into a loud panic. Your foot found the puddle of milk, sneakers slipping through the liquid and the inevitable happened.
There was an awful crack when your head hit the worktop on the way down. Ass hitting the tiles, a horrible spine numbing pain licking up your back. The bones in your hips tingled with it before tears sprung to your eyes as a searing pain set in everywhere at once. You heard the kitchen go quiet for just a second, a blissful peace before the plate you’d been holding finally joined you on the floor and smashed into a hundred different pieces. Argyle’s perfectly crispy hash browns skittered under the workstation and you heard someone swear.
Then everyone was clamouring at once, hands hesitated to touch you as you brought your own to the back of your head and held it there. There was a strange kind of heat to it that made you hope it wasn’t blood, but you were too scared to look. Milk seeped into your wrinkled sock, your legs splayed out in front of you like a forgotten doll, but you didn’t feel half as pretty as one. You gazed mournfully at the smashed plate and couldn’t help the way your bottom lip twisted and trembled. God, your head hurt.
“Oh my god, are you okay?”
“I’m sorry, shit— I’m sorry, I should’ve said I was coming in, right?”
“It’s fine Max, it’s not your fault—”
“How many fingers am I holding up? Can you stand? Hey, who’s the president—?”
“Lil’ Chicago slice got laid out.”
“Everyone move.”
Eddie’s voice rang out the loudest, clear and gruff with an authoritative tone that bordered on scary. Everyone listened, the kitchen and its team quietening down again when they all saw how you winced at the noise. Eddie pushed past Steve, and Robin, dropping down to hunker next to you. His brows were stitched together with concern and he tutted softly at the tear slipping down your cheek. You hadn’t even noticed, but his thumb brushed it away before anyone else could see.
He murmured your name and it sounded like a question you were supposed to answer, so you hummed, face scrunched up as more sharp needles of pain prickled at the back of your skull. Your hand was still pressed to it, scared to let go as if your whole head would simply roll off of your neck.
But Eddie’s hand curled around your wrist and he tugged gently, murmuring words of nonsense that were nothing more than soft placations. With a bit of coaxing, you let him take your hand away and you slammed your eyes shut before you could look. No one hissed or gasped, so it seemed safe enough.
But still, you asked, “there’s no blood, right?”
The boy gave you a soft smile as everyone circled closer to peer at your hand. “Nah,” Eddie told you reassuringly. “No blood, you’ll live.” Then he was cupping your chin in his hand, thumb pressed to the corner of your mouth and his brow wrinkled with more concern. “Can I take a look though?”
You wanted to say no. All this fuss and attention was making you feel too hot, embarrassment from falling starting to roll in with the pain and it mixed in your stomach to create an awfully uncomfortable concoction. Steve and Robin were still gazing down at you, eyes wide with shock and Max looked stricken with guilt, as if she thought her coming into the kitchen unannounced caused this. Argyle was already moving between everyone, sweeping broken pieces of plate and squished food out of the way.
But you nodded and let Eddie peer at the back of your head. His hands gentle as he turned you this way and that, parting your hair so he could look for any cuts. He whistled at the sight of a bump and ran his thumb over it softly. You winced and he murmured a sorry before squeezed your knee, a comforting thing that Robin raised her brows at.
“Think you can stand?” Eddie asked.
You didn’t get a chance to answer, because Hopper was bursting through the doors with a red face and seven ticket orders clutched in his hand. “Why is half my staff on the kitchen fucking floor?” He yelled. “It’s crazy out there! What’s going on?”
You brought your knees to your chest as Steve explained what had happened, gesturing to the puddle of milk, the broken pieces of plate in the trash. Eddie didn’t move, didn’t take his eyes off you, even when you winced in embarrassment and tried to hide your face in your hands.
You heard Jim sigh and then he was clapping his hands and demanding that Steve and Robin went back to the dining floor. “There’s four tables waitin’ for coffee, never mind food, c’mon! And Max— Jesus, Maxine, take those skates off before someone else ends up with a concussion.”
Argyle was sent back to the grill before Hop patted Eddie on the shoulder and told him to do the same. Eddie screwed up his face, confusion wrinkling his brow. “What? No, Hop, someone’s gotta take her home.”
“Ed—” you started to interrupt, mortified at the idea of causing an upset.
Hop laughed, not meanly, just amused. “And what? You think you should be the one to take her, Casanova? You’re the only guy I got here that knows how to cook an omelette, you’re not going anywhere Munson.”
Eddie’s ears burned with the quip, cheeks flushed pink and he scowled at his boss, uncaring about the repercussions. But his attention was quickly stolen by you as you made an attempt to move, standing shakily as you protested that you were fine. The boy scoffed, holding your forearms so you could grip his, knuckles white as the shock of it all set in.
You did feel a little dizzy.
“She’s not going back out there to take orders,” Eddie told the older man as they both looked at your peaky expression, your glassy eyes.
“Well, I ain’t got the bodies to get someone to take her home, kid,” Hop shrugged regretfully. “Wayne at the garage?”
“Fishing trip,” Eddie answered sourly. “Here, c’mon, sit down, yeah?” He guided you to the stool by his station and helped you onto it, eyes filled with concern as you clutched the edge of the worktop and closed your eyes. “Should we be callin’ a doctor?” Eddie asked Hop.
“Don’t you dare,” you managed to bark at him, even though your voice sounded shaky. “I’m fine. I’ll just, I’ll just sit for a bit.”
You couldn’t hear what the two men were whispering about, but embarrassment told you it was most definitely about you. You only looked up when someone set a glass of water in front of you and you smiled in thanks at Argyle before he squeezed your shoulder and went back to flipping pancakes.
“Drink that, please,” Eddie mumbled softly as he appeared by your side. Hopper had left, standing awkwardly in the middle of the diner instead of his office as he wrote down orders listed off by a frantic Nancy. “Okay, we’ve come to an agreement.”
You snorted into your glass. “We have?” You asked as you wiped at your lips.
“Hop’s gonna take over and I’ll drive you home when this place finally calms down. Or we run out of eggs, whatever comes first.”
You rolled your eyes but the action was fond, just like the smile on your lips. You could barely bring yourself to look up at the boy for fear of giving too much away in your gaze, but when you did, you saw the same softness in Eddie’s own expression. “You don’t have to do that,” you told him. “I’ll just sit for a bit and then walk home.”
Eddie snorted and began chopping slices of tomatoes at a speed your eyes could barely keep up with. “No you fuckin’ won’t,” he told you. “Part of this agreement was that you park your cute ass where I can see you. No passing out in the walk-in, alright?”
You tried not to dwell on the compliment too much. Weeks had passed since the night you’d gotten high with the boy, too close on his bed, too close to doing something that was interrupted. You’d been back to the Munson trailer since, but you spent evenings on the sofa with both Eddie and Wayne, yelling at Alex Trebek and trying out new dishes that Eddie created for late nice dinners. No other attempt at a kiss - if that’s what had been about to happen. No other attempt at asking for a date - if that’s what the boy had been about to say.
“Are there any other conditions to this agreement?” You asked, wincing when Argyle dropped a pot into the sink. “Or did you just sell my soul to Jim without me knowing?”
Eddie laughed as he threw some mushroom halves onto the grill, dropping in some butter until they sizzled. “Sweetheart, c’mon now, you did that yourself when you agreed to work in his hellhole.” Eddie moved away just for a few seconds, long enough to return with a new glass of ice water that he replaced your empty one with. “But he did say you’re not allowed to sue him.”
You smiled, laughing weakly because your head still throbbed and the diner was too loud but Eddie Munson was grinning at you with his dimples on show and a stray curl falling into his big, brown eyes.
“Damn,” you tried to joke. “There goes my plan.”
—————
You’d been slumped on the stool for the best part of two hours before someone roused you from your semi sleeping state. Heels of your hands pressed to your closed eyes, the sounds of the diner sounding further and further away as you let yourself be lulled into haze by the sounds of Eddie and Argyle talking over the sizzle of the grill, the popping of bacon, the whir of a whisk.
Then, a palm on your back, wide and warm. You startled only slightly, sitting up and reappearing from behind your hands to see a bowl of soup being slid in front of you. A deep red, flecked with cracked black pepper and smelling like tomato and basil. There was a swirl of some cream in the centre, artfully placed, and a spoon was dipped into the middle of it.
“Eat up,” Eddie instructed softly. “Then I can try ‘n’ find you some Advil or somethin’, Nancy probably got some stashed somewhere.”
You eyed the soup with a sudden greed, mouth watering at the aroma, your fingers finding the spoon. “You didn’t even ask if I was hungry,” you gently scolded the boy.
Eddie knew what it meant. ‘Thank you. You shouldn’t have.’
“Don’t start,” he grumbled back, already going back to cracking more eggs into a bowl. Only six this time, which meant service must’ve been slowing. “You’ve had a coffee and half a slice of toast all day, eat your fuckin’ soup.”
You knew what that meant too. ‘You’re welcome. Please eat, so I stop worrying.’
So you ate and Eddie made omelettes, folding each so meticulously that you couldn’t help but watch. Butter on top, chives diced, fresh tomato and Italian ham in the middle. He knew you were staring, he always did. But now he smiled instead of scowled, let his gaze flicker to you every time he put his knife down and he nodded appreciatively when your spoon scraped the last of the soup from the bowl.
“Good?” He asked like always, sliding the omelette dishes out of the hatch for Steve to deliver to the waiting tables.
Jim was back in the office and the younger kids were long gone, sent home with leftover doughnuts from the pastry cabinet and an extra twenty in each of their back pockets. Regular slowness has resumed. Only Mr Creel sat at the bar, under the television as always, nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee he wouldn’t let Jonathan refill. There was a family at one table, an older couple at another, and three teens sharing a plate of fries in a booth at the back.
You nodded, humming. “So good, Eddie. Best soup I’ve had.”
Eddie grinned and tried to hide it, bashful and pink in the face at your praise. There was a lull in the kitchen as Argyle disappeared into the walk-in and for the first time that day, there was nothing on the grills in danger of burning. So the boy cleared his station and leant his elbows on it, so close to you that you could let your hand touch his, if you’d felt brave enough.
“How’s the head?”
You made a face at the reminder, reaching back to gingerly feel at the small lump there, tender and embarrassing. “It’s fine,” you told him. “Just another injury for the collection.”
Eddie snorted, knowing about your bumps and bruises you’d gathered working in the diner. You were insistent someone was moving table eight a few inches to the right each day, just to fuck with you and your hip. “Gonna have to keep you in a bubble.”
You smiled, “can’t feed me in a bubble, Munson.”
Another grin from Eddie, shy and pretty and so incredibly genuine. The boy that had scowled at you from the minute you’d appeared now couldn’t hide how happy you seemed to make him. Pink cheeks and dimples, a shine to his eyes that made your knees a little weak and you wanted to tell him then, right there, kiss me please.
Kiss me without smoke between us, kiss me without having an excuse to be close. Kiss me ‘cause you want to.
“Yeah, yeah you’re right, that seems— that would be, uh, less than ideal,” Eddie coughed, suddenly nervous. He straightened up and took his hands away from the counter, away from any ideas you had about holding them in your own. “I could, uh, I could - y’know - ask you if you wanted to grab dinner later, instead.”
You sucked in a breath, eyes wide. You didn’t say anything, you just blinked and your silence urged Eddie to fill it, so he rambled on further, voice coming out rushed and a little rough. “Like, I mean, so I can make sure, you know… you eat. God. And you don’t hit your head again, ‘cause you could totally have a concussion and that would su—”
“Eddie?” You interrupted, heart beating too fast, your chest too tight. It felt like it was ready to crack in two, ready to bloom. Excitement was caught in your throat, maybe hope. “Are you asking me on a date?”
The boy faltered and then smiled, a dopey, lopsided thing that you were sure was the most endearing sight you’d ever come across. Those cheeks went pink again and suddenly he was the furthest thing from the grumpy line cook that grunted his greetings to everyone. But maybe, you guessed, he just didn’t do that to you.
“I’m definitely trying to, yeah.” Eddie grinned then, only once he saw your smile too.
Giddy, feeling like a schoolgirl with her first crush, you squinted at him, eyes crinkling in the corners with a new type of joy. You wanted to laugh at his attempt, his shyness for a change instead of your own but you couldn’t keep it together. You were bursting at the seams, chest splintering as the butterflies roared. You felt breathless, you felt warm, you felt like you could look at yourself in the mirrored edge of a frying pan and watch yourself glitter.
“I’d love to,” you told him, soft, quiet, happy.
The boy lazed back against the worktop, the stainless steel between you littered with spilled sugar and the lonely top of a carrot. He played with the edge of his dish towel that was tucked into the front of his apron, narrowed his eyes at you comically and tried to contain his own grin. He was beaming.
“You’re not just saying that ‘cause you’re concussed, right?”
You laughed, a bright, sharp sound and you shook your head. “I’m not concussed.” You hummed, happy. “And even if I was, I’d still wanna go on a date with you.”
Eddie looked brighter than the sun.
—————
That evening, Eddie picked you up outside your apartment with freshly washed curls and a shirt that didn’t have any rips in it.
His boots were clean and his jeans weren’t creased and you’d have said something about it all if you weren’t as nervous as he looked. With what appeared to be a permanent flush on his cheeks, he hopped out the van as he saw you lock up, jogging round the front so he could open the door for you.
“You look nice,” he murmured as he helped you in, his hand holding yours, his gaze unable to stop from wandering over all the bare thigh your dress showed off.
A summery thing, cherry red with a hem that erred on the side of almost too short, with short sleeves and a pretty frilled neckline. It was lower than your uniform, showing off more skin and cleavage than he’d ever seen before. You’d changed seven times between getting out of the shower and watching the window for Eddie’s van, throwing your rejected outfits on your bedroom floor as you stood in your pyjama shirt, wondering if it was far too presumptuous to change into your best lace underwear.
The butterflies inside your ribcage were rattling.
“Thank you,” you answered politely and you let yourself look at him too, like you were allowed to now. He still had the rings he wore outside of the kitchen, a plain black T-shirt that smelled like he always did, like lemongrass and freshly spritzed cologne. “You look nice too.”
He went pink at your words and duked his chin to hide his smile. And when he got back into the driver's seat, you looked at him expectantly, nervously.
“So, uh, there’s only really one place to go for food in this town,” Eddie cleared his throat awkwardly and he smiled, nose scrunched. “And rumour has it, the chef is out on a hot date…”
You laughed, tension broken for a second or two and you hummed, nodding. “Hot date, huh?”
Eddie nodded furiously, letting his eyes dip to look over your bare legs, the short hem of your dress, scarlet against your skin. He looked bravely, not trying to hide it the way he used to. “The hottest,” he confirmed.
“Where are you taking me then?” you asked softly, leaning your cheek against the seat. It was dangerous looking at him like this, like you wanted him, like you were over trying to hide it. Your workplace crush had bloomed into something else, something more and it made your chest ache.
“Wayne’s not home,” Eddie replied just as soft, just as quiet. His gaze kept falling to your mouth, the way it turned up in the corners. “I have it on good authority that the food at Casa Munson is top tier.”
It made your stomach flip, the idea of being alone with the boy. It barely happened, a rarity, really. The butterflies in your stomach were pushing at your bones, gnawing to get out. You were dizzy with it.
“Yeah?” you smiled at him, putting Eddie’s own nerves at ease. “Think you could get us a table?”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fics#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson smut#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson imagine#linecook!eddie
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I’ve had this idea in my head for days now and it just won’t LEAVE so here have scraps
So we know those de-aged au’s with Danny right, and the ones where Jason adopts him? YESSSSSS so anyways the thing that’s been ravaging my brain like an anteater on crystal meth is:
So all night has been pretty shit for Jason. Drug dealers, a couple muggings (who even goes out anymore in crime alley, at this time of night???????) and some human traffickers. You know, the usual. So anyways he’s pissed. Not to mention when he comes across some bastard who’s beating his family, jason promptly broke his legs in a couple new ways he liked. Later, deep into the night he’s already seeing a bit of green around the edges and he’s already called in dick to cover some areas while he cools off, so, naturally, as it is in crime alley, something goes horribly wrong that gets him pissed. Beyond pissed. He sees green and only when dick drags him away does he see some red too. A lot of red.
Fuck.
Well, he knows exactly what he has to do, so he pushed dick off of him and starts roof-hopping over to his apartment (where did his bike go?) and dick calls in the others thinking Jason’s going for more weapons/ammo or smthn, and Jason gets to his lil place and carefully opens a window, trying to be quiet because even though he’s in a killing mood he doesn’t want to wake Danny up, what kind of monster would do that?
Anyways Jason’s taking a moment with his helmet off, leaning his arms against the counter to calm himself down taking deep breaths he learned from Danny yes okay he learned from his son when Tim and dick crash through and Jason gets a little more pissed because those assholes probably just woke up Danny!
So here’s Tim and dick wrestling with Jason to get his weapons off of him and calm him down when all of a sudden the lights flick on and there’s a little boy, around 6, with a messy mop black hair and loose space-themed pajamas, rubbing his eyes as he clearly just woke up. everyone freezes in place and Danny looks around, his eyes adjusting to the light before he looks at Jason and–
“Dad? What’s going on?” He asks so innocently with a tilt of his head. While his brothers are stunned to silence Jason shrugs them off as hard as he can (they woke up his son) and walks over to Danny. Dick and tim lurch foreward but Jason just picks up Danny and places him on his hip. Danny reaches forward and carefully pulls off his dads domino and holds it in his hand while he frowns. “Green monsters are being angry again?” And Jason just sighs with his son (his son!!) in his arms and looks at danny; dick and Tim now seeing the green almost completely gone from his eyes.
“Yeah bud. No big deal though, alright? The green monsters are all gone now. So come on, it’s past your bedtime Danny.” To which Danny groans and he turns to look at the two others in the room who are bewildered as fuck because does Jason have a kid????? W h e n?? H o w??? Okay they know how they really don’t but that’s not the point
Anyways they stand there for a minute while Jason puts Danny to bed and when Jason comes back out he stares at them in silence. Then he just *sighs* and stares them dead in the eyes “yes, I have a kid. Yes, he quiets the pit. Yes, it’s past his bedtime. And yes,” Jason cocks his gun, “you both will be getting out of my apartment. right now. Silently.”
Yeah, they guess questions can wait till tomorrow
Link to the fic :)
#dick is just excited to meet his nephew#Tim is thouroughly confused as to when Danny happened#word of Danny spreads through the family like wildfire and they all come over to see Danny#he’s a little shy at first but his aunts and uncle can do BACKFLIPS so it’s okay :)#Bruce is beyond bewildered that he has a grandson but by god if he isn’t gonna spoil the fuck outta that little blue eyed bastard#Alfred is ESTATIC#dc x dp#dp au#Jason Todd adopts Danny#danny phantom#jason todd#Jason Todd dad au
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Neighbors
Summary: After moving next door to Negan and Lucille Smith you find yourself incredibly drawn to both of them with their flirtatious behavior. One night they invite you over to a dinner at their house and it sets things in motion for you to start a sexual relationship with the both of them.
Characters: Negan, Lucille & the reader (OC, second person)
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53568841
Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, Little To No Plot, Threesome - F/F/M, Voyeurism, Daddy Kink, Mommy Kink, Pet Names, Unprotected P in V, Oral, Two Women Together, Overstimulation, etc.
Notes: This is a very naughty one shot. It's long. But yeah. Y/N can be your name, or whatever name you choose. Enjoy. If two girls aren't your thing you can just skip over most of their stuff btw. Since I know some people are sensitive.
Moving into a new home was a pretty big deal and you were ecstatic to be doing it, but as you sat on the steps to your back deck you were starting to wonder if you were acting inappropriately. The neighbors right next door had caught your attention. It was a married couple that had been very welcoming from the start. On your first day, they were the first to offer to help you unpack and you were instantly charmed by them. Negan and Lucille Smith. You were nervous at first about moving because you had always heard horror stories about new neighbors, but pretty quickly they made you feel comfortable.
Negan helped you move in most of the bigger things and Lucille had made you a really nice dessert. There was just one thing about the two of them that you noticed almost immediately. They were both flirty. Very flirty. And you didn’t know if that was purposeful or if they were just those kind of people who were extremely charming, but you found yourself swooning over the both of them right away.
There was Negan with his wickedly charming smile, chiseled jawline and gorgeous dimples. And there was Lucille whose smile was breath taking and had a set of the prettiest green eyes you had ever seen. Both of them were touchy, complimentary and very friendly. It was something that you weren’t used to, but pretty quickly you found yourself attached to both of them. It wasn’t like they were making it hard for you to feel that way either.
Tonight they had invited you to a get together at their home and they didn’t let you refuse. Then again, you really didn’t want to deny them. Especially with how good both of them made you feel when you were around them.
“Howdy neighbor,” a deep raspy voiced called out, catching your attention and making you look next door. In the distance you could see that Negan was heading out into his backyard. Just the sound of his so very familiar voice caused your heart to skip a beat. Standing slowly from where you were seated, you could see that Negan was pulling a cigarette out, depositing it between his lips. Starting to pat at his pockets, you could tell that he was searching for a lighter as you made your way into your yard. Stepping before him, you pulled your lighter out to help him. Flashing you one of his captivating smiles took your breath away. Negan bent down allowing you to light his cigarette, letting out a slow rumble of a sound when he raised up and gave you a wink. “Thank you, darlin’.”
“It’s nothing,” you waved your hand in the air dismissively, pushing the lighter into your back pocket. A hiss fell from Negan’s parted lips when he exhaled a large amount of smoke. After, he pulled it from his lips and offered it to you. “I shouldn’t.”
“Are you gonna get grounded?” Negan mocked you, an amused rumble falling from his throat when you accepted the cigarette from him. A proud sound escaped his lips when you shared his cigarette with him. “Thatta girl. With lips like those, you shouldn’t be afraid to put something between them every now and then. “
Coughing, you pulled the cigarette from your lips, noticing the wicked smirk that expanded over his features, “Jesus.”
“What?” Negan feigned innocence, accepting his cigarette back from you. “Don’t be a pervert. I was being innocent.”
“Sure you were,” you placed your hand in over the center of your chest hearing Negan snicker before bringing the cigarette back up to his lips. “Are you ready for your get together tonight?”
“Do I look ready?” Negan’s eyebrow arched and he looked down to gaze over the sweats that he was wearing. When he lifted his stare again, he could see that you had taken the time to look him over too. “A nice dinner and I’m dressed like this?”
“I think you look nice in sweatpants,” you blurt out and suddenly you felt a heat rushing into your cheeks with the way that it made Negan’s eyebrows bounce up. This is what you meant with becoming inappropriate. Instead of considering what you were saying, you were just saying what you were thinking and you couldn’t even believe the things coming out of your mouth. The thing was, in his gray sweatpants it didn’t leave much to imagination.
“You like that?” Negan smirked, exhaling a large amount of smoke away from you so it didn’t blow into your face with a mischievous smirk tugging at his features. Originally you were embarrassed that you said what you did, but he was playing back with you, so what was the point in feeling bad about it?
“Looks thick,” you dropped your stare down again, tipping your head down to steal another lingering gaze and a rumble of amusement fell from his throat. Raising your stare, your eyes locked with his and he looked enamored with your response.
“It is. I’m kind of a big guy. You should see it when it’s hard,” Negan slurred, stepping closer toward you closing the distance between the two of you. It drew a chill down your spine with the lack of personal space. “If you like the way it looks in my sweats now, you would really enjoy how big it gets when it’s erect.”
“I can only imagine,” you whispered with the warmth of Negan’s breath over your lips. That’s how close he was. “Your wife is a lucky girl.”
“I’d like to think so,” Negan muttered, his hazel eyes gazing over your lips. Just having him looking at you like that had goosebumps developing over your arms. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t incredibly attracted to this man.
“Daddy,” Lucille’s voice called out from the back door drawing Negan to smirk. Looking back over his shoulder, Negan’s eyebrows bounced up and he offered up one of his enchanting smiles. “It’s time to get to work on dinner.”
“Yes mama,” Negan took a step back, finishing up his cigarette before giving you a wink. “We’ll see you tonight Y/N. Duty calls.”
A tremoring breath escaped your parted lips when Negan made his way back up to his house. It felt like the world was spinning around you with how hot that interaction alone made you. The two of you were just fucking around with your words and it had your flesh on fire.
“You okay?” Lucille’s voice called out, finally breaking you from your moment. Lifting your head, you felt a sense of guilt with the way that Lucille’s green eyes were locked on you. With a nod, you tried to gather yourself knowing that it was wrong to be flirting with a married man like you were. Especially with how much you liked both Lucille and Negan. “We’re looking forward to having you over later.”
“I have to get ready,” you announced, pointing back toward your house knowing right now you absolutely needed that shower to cool down after your interaction with Negan. Lucille gave you a wink and then turned on her heel to head back into the house. You had to get ready for the get together they asked you to and you had to find a way to chill the fuck out in front of both of them. They were married for heaven’s sake.
So that’s what you did. You took an extraordinarily long shower and got ready to go to their house. It was hard picking something out to wear because they really didn’t express how you should be dressing. You went through plenty of outfits before settling in on a black dress. Maybe it was a bit much for a get together at your neighbor’s, but you liked the way you looked. The material clung to your breasts drawing attention to them and the bottom of the dress came down to about mid-thigh. This was Lucille and Negan. You wanted to at least make a good impression on them.
When it was time, you headed over to their home with the bottle of alcohol that you were planning to bring as a gift, surprised to see that only Negan’s motorcycle and their Mustang was parked out front. Were you early? Heading up the steps to their home, you knocked on the door and let out a shuddering breath as Lucille opened the door. Standing before you, she was in a red dress where the neckline dipped incredibly low drawing attention to her breasts.
“Wow,” you felt your heart skip a beat at the sight of her. Most of the time Lucille was gorgeous, but she just wore whatever made her comfortable. Now, she looked like she had just walked off the cover of a magazine with how stunning she looked and it took your breath away. “You look amazing.”
“Look who’s talking,” Lucille clung tightly to the door after she held it open for you and you stepped into the home. In the distance you could see that Negan was standing in the corner attempting to put some music on. He was wearing a pair of black slacks with a black button down with only the buttons done up until about his mid abdomen revealing the dark curls of hair over his chest. Both of them looked incredible tonight and you didn’t know how you were going to make it through the night. “You look beautiful.”
Stealing a look back over his shoulder, a wolfish smile tugged at Negan’s handsome lips when he gazed between both you and Lucille. Placing his hand over the center of his chest, he dramatically leaned back and stomped his foot, “Be still my fucking heart. You both are trying to kill me tonight with the way you look.”
Once Lucille closed the door, you heard Negan start the music. In the living room was a table set up with three seats. Candles were lit at the center of it and only three places were set out, “Did I get here early?”
“What do you mean?” Negan stepped forward, his arm hooking around Lucille’s shoulders loosely. You could smell what you assumed was their dinner cooking in the kitchen and it smelled amazing.
“I thought you were having a party,” you clung to the bottle of alcohol in your hand hearing the amused sound that escaped Negan’s throat.
“Did I word it weird?” Lucille wondered, her hand pressing in over the center of Negan’s chest. Lucille’s fingers stroked through the dark hair that covered Negan’s chest as he hummed out at the sensation. “I was just inviting you over for dinner so the three of us could get to know each other a little bit better.”
“Oh,” you felt your face getting hot. Well, if you knew that maybe you wouldn’t have dressed like this, but you didn’t feel so bad considering both Negan and Lucille had dressed up as well. Lifting the bottle of alcohol, you held it out for them to look over. “I brought this since you were so kind to invite me.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Negan accepted the bottle, taking a look at what you had brought and he let out an impressed exhale at the expensive brand you had gifted them. “But I will happily accept this. We can get this started off tonight. I’ll go grab some glasses. Dinner should be done soon.”
“Negan,” Lucille gasped when Negan smacked her ass when he left them to head back toward the kitchen with the bottle of alcohol you gave him. “Sorry.”
“Nothing to apologize for. The two of you like each other very much. That’s something to admire,” you waved your hand in the air dismissively. Every time you had seen Negan and Lucille together, they were always kissing or being touchy in some fashion. “It’s nice to see.”
“We try,” Lucille stated with a wink, her hand dragging down over your arm before her fingers curled around your wrist to lead you over toward the table. “Hopefully you like what we prepared tonight. Negan has really gotten into cooking lately and he’s really proud of his food. If he gets tired of coaching, I think he has a chance at being a chef if he ever wanted to put in the effort.”
Lucille helped you into your seat and you felt her hands settling in over your shoulders. Faintly she squeezed at your flesh, an extended breath escaping your parted lips when Lucille’s hands slid further down with her fingertips teasing over your collarbone.
“I just enjoy cooking for the people I actually like,” Negan announced making his way out of the kitchen to set down three glasses on the table. Popping open the bottle, Negan poured some of the alcohol out into the glasses for all three of you. Grabbing a glass for himself, Negan tossed back the drink and hummed when he swallowed it down. “Fuck…that’s good.”
Negan got himself another drink, but the sound of a timer going off was heard and he held his finger up in the air motioning you both to wait. Heading back to the kitchen with his glass had Lucille taking a seat at the table feeling a warmth surrounding you.
“Are you enjoying the new house?” Lucille questioned you, her hand stretching out to place in over yours to draw your attention to her. With her leaning forward, it had the material of her dress dipping down further making your throat go dry. God, you were trying so hard not to ogle the Smiths, but they were making it so hard for you.
“Yeah. It’s really nice,” you stammered through your words, enjoying the way that Lucille’s fingertips stroked at the back of your hand. “I was really nervous about moving since you hear all of those horror stories about people moving and having horrible neighbors, but everyone has been really nice.”
“People mostly stick to themselves around here,” Negan announced walking back into the kitchen holding two plates in his hands. Lowering down the first plate in front of you took your breath away. It looked like you were dining at a five-star restaurant with how good the food actually looked on the plate. Negan lowered the next plate in front of Lucille and leaned back. “We enjoy having you as our neighbor so much more than our last.”
“Were they bad?” you inquired feeling Negan’s fingertips drag across your shoulder as he walked by to head back to the kitchen to undoubtedly get his plate.
“It was just a really old man that was grumpy,” Lucille answered for Negan with a half laugh. “And he didn’t like Negan that much. He always had a problem with whatever Negan was doing. I think his family moved him into their home, so it’s been nice having someone like you living next to us instead of someone who always wanted to fight about something because they were bored.”
“So in comparison, you’re a fucking angel,” Negan returned back to the table with his drink and his plate of food. Carefully lowering down into his seat that was across from you, Negan’s smirk had a lump developing in your throat.
“This looks amazing Negan,” you commented and it had him giving his head a small bob happy to have you complimenting his food. It was even better when you took the first bite. When you met Negan the first time, you would have never pictured him being this good of a cook. Throughout dinner, the three of you had small talk and it was just nice being able to talk with them in a relaxed setting. Long after dinner was done, the three of you were still sitting at the table laughing and talking about life and you were all drinking. A lot. Lucille had moved her chair closer to Negan and you admired the way she stroked her fingers at the back of his neck while all of you talked. There was no doubting that the two of them were close. When Negan went to get up to do the dishes, you started to get up to help him, but his large hands pressed in over your shoulders to get you to lower down. “You cooked that amazing meal for me Negan, the least I can do is help you clean up.”
“You’re a guest in this house,” Negan responded, his lips incredibly close to your ear drawing you to close your eyes tightly. With the warmth of Negan’s breath over the side of your neck, you felt chills flooding your veins. “I can take care of it.”
Parting your lips, you swore you felt Negan kiss faintly at the side of your neck before pulling back to gather everything to clean up. When your eyes opened, you felt your heart racing when you noticed that Lucille was staring out at you with a smirk. Giving you a wink, she stood up from the table to help Negan and you felt like the room was spinning around you. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you were starting to feel heated in their home.
“Maybe I should get going,” you suggested, standing up from the table smoothing your dress out. Heading toward the kitchen, you watched the two of them cleaning up and Negan shook his head. “I don’t want to keep you all night.”
“It’s Friday. I think you are allowed some down time, don’t you?” Negan reasoned with you, nodding off toward the bottles of alcohol that he had on the counter. “I still haven’t made you some of my best drinks that I’m capable of. I’m a gin man and I can get something really amazing together for you. Come on. It’s not a school night.”
“Seriously. Just let us finish cleaning up. We’ll put some different music on. Sit down. Have some drinks. Really get to know one another,” Lucille stepped forward, grabbing a hold of your hands to give them a small wiggle. “Come on, what do you say?”
“I’m almost done” Negan had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up his arms while he finished with the dishes, flashing you a big smile. “Come on. Don’t disappoint me. Just stay for a while longer. It’s the weekend. At least enjoy yourself. You’ve been working so hard to get moved in, when is the last time you got to have a decent night to relax?”
“Yeah, okay,” you agreed to stay with them feeling your throat tensing at the idea of how eager they were to keep you there.
“Just go sit down on the couch and we will be right out,” Negan urged you with a half-smile and you listened.
After you sat you could hear them whispering together about something, but when Lucille returned, she was carrying two drinks, “Negan put these together. I think you’re really going to like them.”
Accepting your drink, you let out a surprised sound on the first sip with how much alcohol was in it. It tasted good, but there was no doubt a lot of gin in it, “Wow.”
“He makes them strong,” Lucille noted with a tiny smile, taking a long sip herself before getting comfortable on the couch beside you. You were talking about your job with Lucille by the time that Negan returned to the living room with his drink.
Negan was lighting something up when he moved in beside you and you choked realizing what it was, “Is that weed?”
“I’m starting to think you’re a bit of a goody two shoes and here I was thinking you were a naughty girl,” Negan snickered, pulling the joint from his lips and holding in the smoke before exhaling. A laugh fell from his throat when he held it out to Lucille who accepted it from him. The way that Negan was looking at you made you breathless when he slid in closer to you. “I just thought you would want to have a little fun and relax.”
“I just didn’t expect you to pull out weed,” you responded, finishing off the drink that Negan had made for you. Taking the glass from you, Negan set it down on the coffee table beside his drink and his eyes were locked on yours. After she took a hit from it, Lucille held it out to you. “I’m not a goody two shoes. I was just trying to leave a positive impression with both of you.”
Grabbing the joint, you placed it between your lips and watched Negan smirk when you inhaled sharply after pulling it away, “Thatta girl.”
Taking it from you, Negan put it back between his lips and smiled, “So, what’s your dating life like?”
“I’m sorry?” you breathed out when you exhaled, noticing that both Lucille and Negan were sitting incredibly close to you. “I’m not dating anyone.”
“By choice? Because you’re hot,” Lucille’s fingers stroked at your arm and it kickstarted your heart in your chest.
“Things just haven’t worked out. I did just move out of state you know,” you declared, letting out a tense breath when Negan wrapped his arm around the back of the couch behind you. It revealed more of his chest to your sight and you cleared your throat uneasily. “I’m okay with that though.”
“Daddy,” Lucille held her hand out and Negan handed the joint over to her. An uneasy breath fell from your throat with Lucille reaching out to lace her fingers into Negan’s hair. Tugging him forward had them right before you when Lucille demanded a kiss from Negan. A hum escaped him with his tongue brushing out against hers and you felt incredibly hot being between them while they kissed. When they parted you were probably breathing louder than you should have been.
“Wow,” you stammered eyeing over Negan when he licked over his lips. “You make good food. You have good alcohol and weed. What other surprises do you two have?”
“Well that’s for you to learn throughout the night,” Lucille explained, handing you over the joint and her green eyes were locked on yours. “Do we make you uncomfortable?”
“Honestly?” you felt a breath hitching in your throat with the sensation of Negan’s nose nuzzling in against the side of your neck. Involuntarily, your head tipped to the side when Negan started peppering wet kisses over your flesh. Lucille lifted her hand to drag her finger across your bottom lip. “Yes.”
“Uncomfortable in a bad way or a good?” Negan growled against your flesh, nipping at your jawline when Lucille pressed in closer to you. God, they both smelled so good between his cologne and her perfume.
Before you had time to answer, Lucille’s lips covered yours pulling you closer to her. At first, she just seemed to be testing the water to see if you would be okay with kissing her. When you didn’t fight her on it, the kiss grew in strength and when she pulled away, your lips parted. It felt like the room was spinning around you. It could have been your body reacting to them or a mix of that with the alcohol along with the weed, but it felt nice. Negan’s fingers pressed in over the side of your face urging you to him. Capturing your lips with his had you falling in closer to him. Fuck, they were both good at kissing. When Negan pulled back, his eyes were hooked on yours trying to read your reaction to everything.
“Good,” you finally answered hearing Negan’s amused laughter before he reached up to cup your face in his hands. Allowing him to pull you to him, you kissed him over and over again, enjoying the way it felt with Lucille’s lips pressing kisses over your shoulder. The taste of alcohol still lingered over Negan’s tongue when it flicked out against yours. It had a warmth developing at your core with your right hand sliding back to caress over Lucille’s inner thigh. A tug at your jaw had Lucille pulling you back to kiss her and it was obviously so vastly different from kissing Negan, but you liked it. The contrast between the both of them felt fantastic.
“I’ll be right back,” Lucille announced, pulling away from your kiss with a smile before getting up from the couch.
“I think we could use something a little more upbeat,” Negan got up from the couch to turn on a different song that was something you felt was a bit sexier. Extending his hand out to yours had you smiling. Taking his hand, you laughed when he pulled you in closer to him. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“I have no idea what is going on right now, but I can’t complain” you were honest pressing your hands in over the center of Negan’s chest with his large hands grasping to your hips. Together the two of you danced to the music, your pulse jumping with how close Negan was to you. “Are you bad at anything?”
“No,” Negan snickered, his bottom lip dragging across yours with how close he was to you. “I’m just naturally gifted at everything. Play your cards right and you will discover just how true that is.”
“What is this?” you finally asked gasping when Negan spun you to face away from him. With his groin pressing up against your bottom, you felt his hand settling at your lower abdomen drawing you to move your hips a certain way to dance with him. There was a fire burning deep inside of you with the way he was pressing up against you, allowing you to feel the solidness of his masculinity pressed against your bottom.
“Do you always need the answers to everything?” Negan slurred against your flesh with him kissing over your jawline again.
You were doing your best to follow suit with the movement Negan was doing with you while the two of you danced, but it was beginning to get incredibly sexual. Your face was hot. Hell, your whole body was. But you wondered if this was something you were actually experiencing or your brain was exaggerating the details of what was truly happening. With all the alcohol you drank and from smoking the weed, you could have been experiencing what you wanted to be instead of what was genuinely happening. But this felt real. Very real.
Hooking your arm back, you wrapped it around Negan’s neck when you felt his hand lowering between your thighs. A moan fell from your throat when he caressed over your body in confident movements. Kissing down over the side of your neck had a heat flooding throughout your body. Fuck, this was hot. Just having the stubble from his short beard teasing against your flesh had your nipples getting hard beneath the material of your dress.
In the midst of his touches, you had closed your eyes, sucking down on your bottom lip with just how good he was making you feel. It was when you opened your eyes that you noticed your vision was slightly blurred. The adrenaline could have been kicked up in your body in that moment, but you were starting to think it was more so the effects of the alcohol.
Fuck, why did it have to start up now of all times? You didn’t want this moment to end, but you knew it felt like you were going to pass out.
“I…I think I need to sit,” you informed him as Lucille was returning to them. It had you falling into Lucille’s arms who caught you with ease. “I might have drank too much.”
“I got you,” Lucille led you toward the couch allowing you to lean back against it. Observing you, Lucille made sure you were okay with her fingers tracing down over the side of your face in a tender sweep. “Are you okay?”
“I think so,” you waved your hand about in the air. The sad thing? You were honest. It wasn’t bullshit. The last thing you wanted to do was stop dancing with Negan but all of the alcohol had the room spinning for you.
At some point you must have passed out because by the time you came to fully, the room was dark except for a light that was illuminating from the kitchen. It took a minute before you were able to pull yourself up into a seated position and you wondered how long you had been passed out. Of course you fucking passed out when things were just starting to heat up with Lucille and Negan.
The sound of muted moans were heard causing you to look toward the kitchen. Getting up, you were quiet in the way you moved stepping just to the side to hide yourself when you finally saw what you heard. Negan had Lucille laid back against the table in the kitchen with the bottom of her dress pressed up to her mid abdomen. His head was buried between her thighs, the wet sounds of him pleasuring her flooding the kitchen along with her moans. Lucille’s fingers were tangled in Negan’s hair with her chest rising and falling heavily.
This was a personal moment between the two of them and you should have just left or gone back to lay down, but you couldn’t help yourself from watching. With the sounds that Lucille was making, you could only picture how good it must have felt. There was an ache between your thighs and you were impressed with how fast it turned you on.
“Negan,” Lucille panted, her fingers tugging at Negan’s hair getting him to pull back, licking over his lips when he looked up at her. “Please…”
“Yes mama?” Negan pressed a few kisses over her thighs before getting up to lay in over Lucille. His fingers hooked into the straps of her dress to tug the material down revealing her breasts to him. Covering Lucille’s breast with his mouth, Negan kissed over her breast in long, drawn out motions with his hips bucking up toward Lucille.
Biting down on your bottom lip, you were doing your best to stay quiet when you felt a warmth pooling at your core. From where you were, you could see that Negan’s shirt was fully opened and you had no idea where to look first. Between Negan and Lucille, you were overwhelmed with how beautiful both of them were.
Gradually, Negan’s kisses rose up over Lucille’s chest, toward her neck and over her jawline with her hands reaching down between them. Eagerly, Lucille pulled apart the belt in Negan’s pants with their mouths colliding together. Both of them were incredibly dominant in the way that they kissed. Pushing into Negan’s chest had him stumbling back with an amused sound. Lucille lifted up on the kitchen table and dragged her fingers down over the length of Negan’s long torso. Tugging open the material of Negan’s pants, Lucille reached her hand inside and you let out a small sound of awe when she pulled Negan’s solid erection from his pants. Negan wasn’t kidding. He was big.
Stroking her hand over Negan’s length, Lucille kept kissing Negan with his moans growing louder. Dropping her head, Lucille took Negan between her parted lips having Negan’s fingers sinking into her hair while she pleasure him. God, watching the two of them together had you hotter than you could have ever imagined. There should have been some kind of jealousy going on there, but there wasn’t. You were enjoying watching them. Negan’s long eyelashes fluttered to a close, the muscle at the corner of his jaw flexing with Lucille’s head bobbing over his length. Even the moans that fell from Negan’s throat were incredibly sexy.
“Fuck,” Negan hissed, pulling back on Lucille’s blonde hair. Lowering her down on top of the kitchen table, Negan pressed his hand in over Lucille’s throat to keep her down. Pulling her right to the edge of the kitchen table, Negan reached between them to grab a hold of his erection. Tracing the tip of his cock over Lucille’s body had her purring out, her hips arching up toward Negan. With a wet sound, Negan entered Lucille having her back arching up on the table, her hands wrapping around Negan’s wrists when they found their way to her slender hips. “Fucking hell mama.”
“Daddy,” Lucille tugged at the material of Negan’s shirt to get him to lay over her and meet her in a passionate kiss. Slowly, Negan started to thrust into Lucille shaking the table with his movements. Lifting your left hand, you covered your lips to stay silent. With every thrust, Lucille’s cries started to grow louder and you felt an ache in your body.
Watching the two of them fucking had you desperately wanting to touch yourself, but you knew that you wouldn’t be capable of being quiet if you did that. Hearing both of their moans was like music to your ears and you had to coach yourself from making any sound. It was torturing yourself not allowing yourself to give you any kind of pleasure from watching this. Your nipples were hard and pussy throbbing but doing that might have gave away that you were watching them. You didn’t want that.
Lucille’s arms wrapped around Negan’s shoulders with his thrusts getting rough. Negan was a very verbal lover, praising her and talking Lucille through everything while also not being afraid to moan. It was incredibly sexy and you just found yourself drawn to both of them more the further they continued.
“Come here,” Negan commanded, helping Lucille lift up from the table to pull her in closer to him. With her holding onto him, Negan grabbed a tighter hold of her with Lucille kissing over the side of his neck. How desperately Lucille clung to him and cried out, you knew that she was enjoying every thrust she was experiencing. Adjusting her, Negan pulled his hips back and it had her crying out when his length pulled away from her. Forcing Lucille face first onto the table, Negan lowered down to kiss over her shoulder and moved in behind her. Adjusting her the way he needed her, Negan reached between them to lead his impressive length back into her. The sound of their skin smacking together was heard, his head lifting up. A wicked smirk tugged at his lips when his hazel eyes connected with yours and you silently cussed to yourself. You thought you were hidden enough to not be seen, but there was no questioning that Negan saw you watching them. Palming down over Lucille’s back, Negan growled out when he grabbed a firm hold of Lucille’s ass testing the flesh in his hands. “Good girl.”
Starting to pound into Lucille had her cries intensifying and Negan’s eyes continued to stay hooked with yours while he fucked his wife. Every plunge had Lucille bouncing forward toward the table before eagerly rocking back into him. Negan was putting on a show now. It fueled him to know that you were watching the two of them together.
“Fuck…” Negan’s head tipped back, the vein at the side of his neck prominent with his movements. Once Lucille’s moans were getting closer together, it had Negan’s thrusts more determined leaving Lucille reaching back to place her hand in over Negan’s lower abdomen to get him to stop his movements so she could catch her breath. It was mesmerizing seeing their bodies pressed together like they were. “Do you feel good honey?”
“Yes daddy,” Lucille purred out, her body tremoring from the orgasm that he got her to.
“You want to ride daddy’s big cock?” Negan questioned with a wolfish smile when Lucille shakily pushed up from the table. She pushed into the center of Negan’s chest getting him to stumble back into the chair that was at the corner of the room. Confirming that you were still watching, Negan started to stroke over his swollen cock drawing attention to how big it actually was. There was no doubting that Negan had a reason to be arrogant about things. Shakily, Lucille moved in over Negan and he helped her to lower down over him with her head burying against the side of Negan’s neck. “Fuck Lucille…”
Staying where you were, you felt your heart hammering in your chest and were enamored with the way they moved together. All the way to the end you watched them knowing that Negan would have wanted that. He was putting on a show for you and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it. Once they were having their intimate moment together after everything, you gave Negan one final look with him pressing kisses over Lucille’s shoulder and you headed back to the couch. Laying down, you turned toward the back of it and pretended to still be sleeping when Negan and Lucille stumbled through the kitchen and to the hallway that you imagine led to their bedroom.
It took an ungodly amount of time for you to fall back asleep, but by the time you finally did wake up, there was light flooding into the living room. You were surprised that Negan and Lucille even let you stay the night like this. No doubt, it was time to finally leave as you carefully pulled yourself up from the couch. The question was, did you tell them or did you just leave?
Thinking it over, you headed toward the hallway knowing that you should just let them know you were going to take off. Making it to the end of the hallway, you noticed that one of the doors was partially opened and you pressed into it. When it opened fully, you felt a lump developing in your throat at the sight before you. Negan was sleeping at the middle of the bed completely naked with only a sheet covering his most intimate parts keeping them hidden from you. Then again, it didn’t leave much to imagination.
Stepping into the bedroom, you gazed over Negan’s body and felt your mouth go dry looking at him. God, he was so incredibly sexy with the tattoos that covered his body. Lowering your gaze, you couldn’t help but stare at the v-line over his hips that led to the dark curls of hair over his lower abdomen that made you lick your lips.
“Are you just going to stare are you going to actually take what you want for once?” Negan’s deep raspy voice filled the air, his eyes fluttering to a slow open. An amused, tired smirk tugged at his handsome features with you standing at the bottom of the bed. Sliding his palm down, Negan caressed over the area that was covered by the sheet before yawning. Stretching out his long body had the sheet tugging further revealing the base of his cock. Your mouth went wet and your heart raced. Tugging slightly at the sheets, Negan pulled it away from his body to reveal his completely naked form to you. “Why don’t you take that dress off for me?”
“Where is Lucille?” you questioned, letting your curiosity get the best of you. Your eyes were still centered on his cock and you were certainly tempted.
“She had a shift today. She left you sleep because you looked like you needed it,” Negan was still comfortable at the center of his bed, his head resting back into the pillows. “So why don’t you do what daddy tells you and take that dress off. And how about you use your mouth to make up for what you did yesterday. We were really going somewhere you know.”
Surprisingly, you found yourself listening to him working the dress from your body. It was bold and it was stupid, but you wanted to obey. Humming out, Negan seemed to enjoy when the material dropped to your feet leaving you in your bra and panties before him. Wiggling his fingers at you excited you. Slowly lowering down, you pressed your knees in over the bottom of his bed with Negan’s smile expanding. God, you were actually doing this. Pressing forward, you balanced your body weight evoking a proud exhale from Negan when you started kissing over his thigh.
Lifting your stare, you felt exhilarated with the way that he was watching your movements. Each kiss you were pressing over his flesh was faint, but he seemed to be enjoying it. Just having him watching you like he was had your heart pounding in your chest. Your eyes fell upon his semi-erect cock that was resting at his hip and your lips parted. Crawling further up the bed, your kisses continued over his body and he let you know he liked it in the way that he sounded. Hovering just over the root to his masculinity had his head tipping to the side to watch you better with his dimples becoming more prominent. How couldn’t you want to do something like this with him?
Dragging your tongue out against the length of his shaft had his hips arching slightly toward you. It made you smile to know he wanted this. Inhaling sharply, Negan did his best to keep his eyes locked on you when you continued to press faint kisses out across the tip of his cock. Quiet moans were falling from his throat and they were so incredibly sexy fueling you even more with what you were doing.
“You’re a tease,” Negan grunted with your fingers curling around his cock, stroking it in unhurried caresses. Glaring at him, you got a good grasp of his manhood before wrapping your lips around the tip. Flicking at it with your tongue had him growling out and the way he looked at you was so enticing. You were gentle at first. You wanted to build up that pressure inside of him. And he was completely enchanted with you. The kisses you pressed against the sensitive tip were wet with your tongue following suit with dragging out against the flesh. Having his cock growing harder inside of your mouth fueled you. The ache between your legs still lingered from the night before, but it was growing with the damp heat this was all causing you. “Fuck. Good girl.”
Hissing out, Negan’s eyes came to a tight close with his head falling back into the pillows as you took him further back into your throat. Now it was about testing what he liked. You couldn’t imagine he would have gotten any sexier, but getting to pleasure him showed you that he could. His body was intoxicating with how it reacted to every touch. Doing your best to impress him, you paid close attention to his praises when you did something he liked and you focused on that. Negan was a big fan of when you would drag your tongue across the underside of his cock where the tip met the shaft. And he loved when you’d take him back into your throat because it had his hips lifting slightly off the mattress every time. It was the damp heat that he was drawn to. God, the taste of him against your tongue was incredible too. Just doing this alone would be a gift for you.
A wet sound filled the air when you pulled your mouth from his body. Sheathing his flesh in your palm, you used your saliva to help coat his length making it easier for you to caress over his cock.
“Last night it looked like Lucille really enjoyed herself,” you whispered against his cock, your words vibrating against his flesh. It had his long eyelashes fluttering, his lips parting and then a smile tugging at them.
“It could have been a whole lot better if you wouldn’t have passed out,” Negan proposed, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip. Last night you were pretty sure that they were trying to start something up with you, but your self esteem got in the way. You questioned if that was the case but hearing it come from Negan’s lips made you wonder. Maybe everything did happen the way you remembered it last night. Stretching his hand out, Negan swept his thumb in over your wet bottom lip. Kissing at the pad of his thumb had him humming out before he caressed his fingers through your hair. It was a soothing sensation with him admiring the sight of you. After what you had done, Negan was fully erect in your grasp. Stealing a look at your handy work, you licked your lips and heard his breathing grow louder. There was amusement in his eyes when you looked back up to him. “What do you think about my cock now that it’s hard and in front of you?”
Snickering, you kissed at the ridges of the tip liking the audible moan that followed, “You know what I think.”
There was something so handsome about the way he looked. There was a reason for all that cockiness and it suited him. He was good looking. His body was amazing and he could charm the pants off anyone. Hell, you were an example of that.
Taking Negan back between your wet lips, you lowered your head down over the first few inches. A hum of approval filled the air with Negan’s fingers hooking tightly into your hair. When you pulled back, you were meticulous in the way you dragged your tongue back over his length making sure to hit that sensitive spot just below the tip every time before lowering back again to repeat the motions.
“Fuck baby,” Negan groaned out, letting you take your time pleasuring him. As your movements grew faster, Negan’s breathing became louder and his grasp got stronger. “Relax your throat.”
Hearing his order, you attempted to do what he asked of you. At that point, the strength of his palm was lowering you further down his rigid cock. The tip hit the back of your throat and you did your best to relax for him. Making sure you could handle it, Negan started to thrust his hips up toward you fucking your throat with slow, careful movements. Over and over again he did it before he pulled you away and allowed the air to fill your lungs again. Your lips were wet, your eyes damp, but you didn’t hate what he had done.
“You are such a fucking good girl,” Negan sat up in bed, grasping your jaw with his right hand. The way his hazel eyes were hooked on yours had your body tremoring and he smiled. Sliding his thumb out over your bottom lip collected the dampness over it and he licked his lips. “Good girls deserve rewards. Don’t you think?”
“Yes daddy,” you purred knowing that’s clearly what he liked to be called. His eyebrows bounced up with a pleased expression over his handsome features. Negan’s messy hair was in his face when he pulled you to him. Claiming your lips in a passionate, heated kiss had you purring against the warmth of his flesh. It was hot, wild and you were becoming more and more addicted with each flick of his tongue over yours. Wincing out, you dropped your head back when Negan’s fingers curled firmly around your throat.
“I’m going to fucking destroy you,” Negan growled against your flesh and while that might have made someone uncomfortable, you found yourself absolutely looking forward to it.
Moving fast, Negan used his strength to roll you onto your back underneath him. Hovering his lips over yours had your heart hammering inside of your chest. Nibbling at your bottom lip, Negan tugged at your flesh before giving you another fiery kiss that had you wanting more. So when he pulled away, you were breathless and panting.
“Fuck honey,” Negan grumbled, pressing kisses down over the side of your neck and toward your chest. Lifting his hand, he tugged at your bra revealing your breast to him when he got the material low enough. Kissing over your full breasts, Negan circled your nipple with the warmth of his tongue before taking it between his lips. Your body was on fire, wanting every bit of what he was providing you with. Curling his arm around your body, Negan worked with the clip at the back of your bra before finally getting it undone. Wasting no time, he pulled at the material tugging your body forward so he could toss it aside and then cover your other breast with his mouth. While he teased and pampered your flesh with his tongue, his other hand caressed your other breast leaving you a panting mess. “You are so fucking beautiful.”
Dropping your head back into the pillows, you enjoyed the weight of Negan over you, taking complete control of you. Each touch and every kiss had you begging for more with you purring out his name. Peppering kisses down over the length of your abdomen had your body arching up toward him and he growled out.
“You deserve to be cherished every fucking night,” Negan declared, biting at your hip as he got up onto his knees. Hooking his arms under your legs, he dragged you to the edge of the bed and grunted when he got you where he needed you. Getting up to his feet, Negan pulled you right to the edge of the bottom of the bed and stared down at you like an animal observing its prey. “It’s a shame that you fucking aren’t.”
A tremoring exhale escaped your lips when Negan tugged at the material of your panties, wasting no time in getting them from your body. Tossing them aside, Negan pushed your right leg up over his shoulder before carefully lowering down. Dragging his fingers over the length of your pussy had you mewling out and he smiled.
“You have such a pretty little pussy, don’t you?” he slurred, lifting his hand to lick over his fingertips before returning them. Stroking his fingers over your most intimate parts had you clutching tightly to the bedsheets that were beneath you. Your eyes slammed shut when Negan lowered his head down to start pressing wet kisses over the inside of your thigh with each kiss getting closer and closer to your most intimate parts. Crying out, you felt Negan’s hot kisses centering in over your sex and you curled the blanket further into a ball under your fingers.
“Negan,” you purred out his name as your body trembled. Strong flicks of Negan’s tongue circling over your sensitive bundle of nerves had you arching your hips to him. And when his lips surrounded the bud and he slurped faintly it had you growing breathless, lifting your head to watch him while he feasted on you. “Christ.”
The strength of Negan’s grasp on your thigh would undoubtedly leave marks, but you didn’t care with the way he left you feeling. Between his mouth and his tongue, you were on cloud nine. Fuck, you didn’t realize how much you truly needed this. Rocking your hips against his movements, you couldn’t help but want more of that friction from his mouth when he pulled away with a moan himself.
“Look at you,” Negan grunted, his fingers tracing over the length of your sex before circling them at your entrance. Inserting one of his long, slender digits had your head tipping back against the bed. You could feel your pulse at your temple when your eyes came to a tight close. Thrusting his finger into you, Negan continued to focus on your clitoris with the warmth of his mouth having you shaking against him between the two. Adding another finger, Negan wasn’t exactly gentle as he pumped them into you, working to hit your g-spot with every thrust after he had found it. You were writhing beneath him and he was using his strength over you to keep you in place. “Come on darlin’. Let it happen. Come for daddy.”
A warmth was rushing to your head and it ached, but it was a good ache. Your thighs were shaking, your body arching up toward him. His fingers were determined, his eyes locked on yours when your hips pulled up with a wet sound. A whimper fell from your lips, your hips shaking and writhing in his grasp. Tiny tremors flooded your body from the orgasm that Negan was able to give you just using his fingers and you were shaken.
“Fuck sweetheart,” Negan snickered against your flesh, still keeping a tight hold of you to keep you in place. “You were really in need of that, weren’t you?”
“Holy shit,” you panted still euphoric after your orgasm noticing how wet his sheets were going to be from what just happened. Even Negan was damp after that one. “I’m sorry.”
“Never apologize for that,” Negan clicked his tongue against the top of his mouth starting to kiss down over your inner thigh again. Almost immediately, his fingers slid back inside of you eliciting an incredible amount of stimulation with the way he was hitting your g-spot. His other hand went to work rubbing at your clit to give you double the amount of pleasure. It had your hips rocking up toward his touch and it was incredible. Every sensation was exceptionally intense since you were already so sensitive, but Negan had a goal and he was determined. Squirming underneath him, you reached for his wrist trying to hold onto something when your heart felt like it was about to pound right out of your chest with the way he was touching you. “Fuck, honey.”
The rhythmic motion of his fingers caressing your g-spot was driving you crazy getting that same fire to flood your body like he did with your last orgasm. Replacing his fingers with his mouth, Negan’s tongue twisted and teased over your clit with his mouth working in unison. You were a panting mess beneath Negan because he knew exactly what to do with you and he did it well.
“Negan,” you cried out hearing the hum that fell from Negan’s throat when he swiftly pulled his fingers out allowing the powerful orgasm to flood from your body. Arching up toward him, you shakily lowered your hands down to tug at the bedsheets. “Fuck.”
“Oh, you are going to be so much fucking fun,” Negan slurred, his amused exhale vibrating against your body leaving you cooing beneath him with the overstimulation that he brought you to. Standing up had your lips parting when your eyes fell to his swollen length that bobbed with his movements. Keeping you right at the edge of the bed, Negan urged one of your legs up over his shoulder when he got onto his knees. With his body pressed flushed against you, you felt chills flooding your body. Tracing a line over your slit with his fingers, Negan smiled and his hazel eyes locked with yours. “You’re already super fucking wet, but if you need me to stop, just let me know?”
Firmly wrapping his fingers around the base of his erection, he toyed with you at first letting the swollen tip tease through your sensitive folds. Purring out had Negan humming and he smiled down at you.
“I know, it feels so good,” Negan muttered, tapping the tip of his cock against your clit having you arching your hips up closer to him. Lining his body up with your entrance, Negan pushed slightly forward giving you the hints that he would fill you, but when he didn’t it had you whining out. Snickering out, Negan’s brow line furrowed as he licked his lips. Unhurriedly sinking his body into yours had you crying out his name. A muscle in Negan’s jaw flexed, his lips parting as your tight canal enveloped his body. The incredibly full, stretching feeling that followed Negan entering you was unlike anything you had felt. Outstretching his right hand, Negan palmed over your breast testing the flesh in his grasp. “Your tight little pussy feels so fucking good. Fuck.”
Taking his time, Negan’s right hand slid down, his fingertips digging into your hip when he started to roll his hips slowly. It was going to take some time adjusting to him, but your body was more than willing. Gasps fell from your throat with every thrust forward he made.
“Do you like the way daddy’s big cock feels?” Negan spoke, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat with a cocky, arrogant smile tugging at his handsome features. Each movement of his hips gradually got harder and faster, allowing him to open your body up further to him. Your moans only fueled him further with the strength of them. “This is only the beginning. Daddy is going to destroy your pussy. You’re going to be feeling me for hours.”
“Please…” you cooed out, a whine falling from your throat when Negan bottomed out inside of you. Writhing beneath him had him smiling and pressing forward to bring your lips together in a sloppy kiss. The warmth of him inside of you and over you sent chills throughout your veins. Whining out, you lifted your head staring down at him stagnant inside of you. You felt every part of him and he wasn’t going to let you move.
“That’s it honey. Take every fucking inch,” he growled, his fingers curling around your throat drawing it further back against the bed. Panting, your body was aching for that movement and stimulation that he had been giving you. Fuck it ached with him like that inside of you, but at the same time it felt so good. “Do you like having daddy balls deep inside of you?”
“I love it daddy,” you cooed out, gasping when Negan used his strength to move you over toward the center of the bed. Adjusting his positioning, Negan put some strength on the back of your thighs to keep your legs up when he started smacking up with his thrusts, finally giving you that desired movement. They were fluid and rhythmic with his faint moans surrounding the two of you. “Fuck daddy…”
“You are so fucking wet,” Negan muttered, his eyes hooked on your reactions to every movement he made. Sure, he’d steal an occasional look down to watch his cock filling you time and time again, but he mostly liked having that connection with you. He wanted to see what he was doing to you. “You look so fucking beautiful full of daddy’s cock, you know that?”
Crying out, you threw your head back loving the way that the tip of his cock continued to caress at your g-spot having you tremoring beneath him. Plunging his cock into you again and again had your whimpers loud and he was most certainly proud of them. Once Negan found your hotspot, he went all in. He wanted to make you come and he wanted to have you screaming out his name with the way he did things.
“Do you like being fucked like a little slut?” Negan lowered down, bracing his weight with his right hand so he would bring your lips together. The friction from the thick base of his cock rubbing against your clitoris added to the stimulation you were feeling. When you didn’t answer, his fingers curled around your throat again extracting a moan from your lips. “Do you?”
“So much,” you answered him and an amused rumble escaped him. “Your cock feels so big. You’re so deep.”
It had been a long time since you’d been fucked like this. The headboard was smacking up against the wall and he made sure you felt every part of him. Hell, you might have never been fucked like this.
“Don’t stop,” you begged of him liking the closeness of your bodies with his forehead pressed up against yours. Desperately you grasped to his shoulders, your fingers sinking into his dark hair. Negan’s steady thrusts had you wincing out every time.
“Are you going to come again?” Negan’s kisses were intoxicating, with the occasional flick of his tongue over yours. You wondered if he could feel your body tensing up or if your facial expressions were giving it away. There was that heat building in your belly again. A rush flooding through your veins. It was right on the edge and wanted to erupt once more. “Do you want to squirt all over daddy’s cock?”
“Please,” you pled of him, your nails biting into his shoulders with his thrusts becoming harder and more determined. “I want to. I need to come.”
“Your taking daddy’s cock so fucking good honey,” Negan praised you, biting down on his bottom lip. His breathing was loud when he lowered his head to watch his cock plunging into you time and time again. Pressing at the center of his abdomen had him groaning out when he pulled his hips back allowing the rushing flood of your orgasm to hit you. Amused exhales fell from his throat when he looked down between the two of you. You were lost in that orgasm. Your eyes slammed shut, your body shaking and it felt like your heart stopped if only for a second. Your body was experiencing so much stimulation all at once and even though it ached, it kept wanting more of it. Without Negan’s cock inside of you, your hips were arching up and you were panting. Once you got a taste of Negan, you didn’t want it to stop. “Fuck, I knew you were special when I first laid eyes on you, but goddamn.”
With a wink, he grabbed a firm hold of your hips, turning you over onto your knees with ease. Your body was still shaking from the earth-shattering orgasm that he drew out of you when you felt him spanking over your fleshy bottom. Purring out, your hips bounced forward, but he brought them back to him just as quickly.
“You’re such a dirty girl, aren’t you?” Negan caressed over your ass before spanking over it again. There was no question that it was going to leave a mark, but you didn’t care. You liked the way it made you feel. Wrapping his arm around your waist, Negan pulled you up to your hands for you to brace yourself and he hummed out. “I’m gonna need you to balance yourself doll.”
Obeying, you allowed him to move you the way he wanted. Looking back over your shoulder, you watched him stroking his fingers over his girthy length before he led it back into your warmth. It had you crying out, your hips arching forward, but he followed your movements making sure to bring you back to him.
“It feels like your pussy was made for daddy, you know that?” Negan hissed out, his hands grasping firmly to your hips when he started pounding into you from behind. Wet sounds from your fucking filled the bedroom and you were having a hard time keeping up on your hands, but you were doing your best. “Yes. That feels so fucking good. It feels like your pussy was fucking made for me baby.”
“Fuck,” you lowered your head against the center of the bed, your eyes slamming shut while he had his way with you. The plunges of his cock inside of you were hitting areas that felt so fucking good. And he knew it too. “Fuck, that’s deep. Your cock is so big.”
“It feels so good inside of you,” Negan grumbled, squeezing at your fleshy bottom before spanking over it again. The smacks of his lower abdomen up against your ass grew louder with him thrusting harder up. “This pussy is all mine today. Yes it fucking is.”
“Yes,” you mewled out, your fingertips curling around the sheets tightly, your upper half lowering down when your head felt heavy.
Filling you all the way to the brim had you crying out, but he kept a firm hold of your hips to hold you in place. Shakily reaching around, you squeezed at his fleshy thigh hoping to get him to move with your body throbbing around his. Wiggling his hips a bit had you cooing out and he let out that same amused rumble you heard so many times before.
“Watching you squirm on daddy’s cock is amazing baby,” Negan growled out, his palm smacking over your bottom leaving a pinging sensation over your flesh. The sound of Negan spitting was heard and you felt the warmth of it over your skin. Negan’s thumb circled over the pucker of your tight hole eliciting a shuddering cry from your lips when you felt it pressing into you. “Fuck sweetheart. Both of these holes are fucking perfect.”
“Negan,” you rocked your hips back toward him begging for that friction that he was keeping you from. “Please. Fuck me. Please.”
“Oh baby, I will. I promise,” Negan chuckled, allowing you the satisfaction of him pulling his hips back slowly before firmly moving forward with a wet smack. It had you hissing out, your eyes slamming shut while each thrust progressively got harder and faster. “Your body is so fucking perfect.”
It felt incredibly foreign with Negan’s thumb in your ass while he pounded away inside your pussy, but you didn’t mind it. It was him having his way with you and you ultimately enjoyed the idea of being completely and totally his.
“Hopefully in the future you consider letting daddy have this phenomenal ass of yours,” Negan growled out, pulling his thumb from your body before pressing his hand in over the back of your neck. The pressure from it had you hissing out when his firm, sturdy thrusts continued. “Today is about focusing on something else though.”
“Yes daddy,” you wailed out with his powerful thrusts behind you causing you to fall forward onto your stomach and Negan snickered. You laid out flat across the bed and Negan carefully laid over you. The drives of his body became slower with his mouth kissing in over your shoulders. Pampering your body with kisses, Negan’s fingers squeezed firmly around yours. “Fuck.”
“Do you want some time controlling daddy’s cock?” Negan wondered, a wolfish smile tugging at his lips. You didn’t even give him an answer before his cock was pulling from your body. You were weak. You didn’t know how good you would be, but you would do your best. His damp hair was clinging to his skin when he lowered down onto the bed, stretching out his body. Nodding, you shakily crawled in over him. Bracing yourself, you only teased your bottom over his cock when you dropped down to bring your lips together. Repeatedly the two of you kissed and he didn’t seemed to mind or fight it. Hell, every part of this man was addictive. The soft stroking sensation over your jawline had you pulling back to stare down at him. “You were worth the fucking wait.”
“So were you,” you smirked, stealing another kiss from his lips before comfortably moving in over him. Bracing your hands in over his thighs, you lifted your hips just enough for Negan to grab a hold of his cock. Allowing him to press it back into your body had you purring out when you lowered down over his lengthy body. “Fuck Negan.”
“Now I get to watch you fucking yourself on my cock,” Negan bobbed his head about, throwing his arms back behind his head. God, he was so fucking cocky, but for a good reason. Starting off slow, you raised your hips up to the tip of his cock before lowering down. It had him moaning out, his abdomen raising and falling heavily with his breathing. Repeating the same movement had hisses falling from his throat, but his dimples became more prominent with his smile growing. Dragging his tongue across his lips, Negan tipped his head back when you braced yourself on one of your hands while using your other to caress over his testicles. “Fuck. I’m so damn happy you’re our neighbor.”
“I don’t know,” you panted, bracing yourself again when you lowered yourself completely over Negan pulling a loud, raspy moan from him. Multiple times today, the stagnant movements had driven you crazy. Maybe it was your time to do it to him. Having that full feeling was so unique, but you liked experiencing it. “I’m going to get addicted to this dick and want it inside of me all the time.”
“I don’t think there is a problem with that,” Negan grunted, keeping his left arm behind his head but lowering his right so he could circle his thumb over your clit. Purring out, you bit down on your bottom lip starting to roll your hips over his length with his thumb caressing over your body with your movements. “It’s there for you whenever you want it.”
“Just like that?” you whimpered, starting to bounce your hips over his again. The sounds Negan was making made it that much easier for you to fuck yourself on his cock because they were fueling you to keep it up.
“Just like that,” Negan nodded his head, his moans growing louder. “I wish you could see what I am right now. It’s so fucking hot watching your pussy taking my cock like it is.”
“You like that pussy?” you asked with a moan yourself eliciting another groan from Negan. Biting down on his bottom lip, Negan nodded his head and hummed out when you started riding him harder.
“Love it,” Negan growled out, his fingers rubbing faster at your sensitive bundle of nerves. In this position, everything was so much more enhanced and you got to experience that stretching so much more. Every ridge almost felt intensified for you. “Fuck honey.”
Bouncing his hips up toward you, Negan growled out and you found yourself incredibly attracted to the prominent vein that was bulging at the side of his neck. Your bodies were moving in unison when you threw your head back, your hips shaking over Negan when you managed to get yourself to another orgasm. There was no time to gather yourself with Negan rolling you over onto your back. Swiftly turning you onto your stomach again, Negan had you laying comfortably as he carefully laid in over you.
“You are fucking phenomenal,” Negan’s groin smacked up against your bottom when he entered you again making you drop your head down. This time Negan’s kisses were being pressed over your shoulder with his thrusts unhurried. Hooking his fingers with yours, Negan took his time building the tempo behind you before burying his nose against the side of your neck. “Where do you want me to come?”
“I don’t care where, just don’t stop,” you begged of him, your head turning slightly to meet him in a wet kiss that had you purring out against his lips. Negan’s thrusts grew harder with you bouncing your hips back against him. It just felt so good having him inside of you and you never wanted him to leave. Each plunge of his cock was a gift and you were in a euphoric state.
“Fuck,” Negan winced, biting at your jawline when his thrusts started becoming more prominent and sharper. “Daddy is going to fill your pretty little pussy with his cum. Are you okay with that?”
“Yes daddy,” you released his left hand, reaching down to grasp at his thigh enjoying the way the muscle flexed beneath your touch. The grasp of Negan’s fingers around yours grew stronger with his moans more frequent and closer together. “I want to feel you come inside of me. Fill me with every last drop…”
“Fucking hell,” Negan groaned out against the side of your neck, his cock throbbing inside of you. With the first twitch, you could feel the first line of his cum filling you. Even through his orgasm, Negan fucked you with powerful movements. The wet sounds of his body smacking with yours made you smile. Negan’s fingers were sinking into your hair, tugging firmly at it when his movements gradually started to slow down. By the time his movements halted all together, Negan was kissing over your jawline and caressing his fingers at the back of your neck. “So fucking perfect.”
Lazily, Negan pulled himself up onto his knees and watched as he unhurriedly pulled his cock from your body enjoying the sight of his cum pouring out of you and down your thighs. Giving your bottom one last spank, Negan laid down beside you on the bed on his back stretched out.
Both of your breathing was uneven when you rolled onto your side to get a look at him. There was a thin layer of sweat over Negan’s body and his softening cock was resting at his lower abdomen making you lick your lips. Unsure of your movements, you slid across the bed and rest your head over Negan’s chest. When Negan’s arm wrapped around your waist, you realized it was okay to cuddle in over him. Listening to the strong, steady tempo of his heartbeat was soothing to you while you took your time gaining your breathing back.
“I think you were trying to kill me,” you teased, kissing over Negan’s chest and playfully nipping at his nipple. A raspy laugh fell from Negan’s throat.
“Death by sex isn’t the worst way to go,” Negan commented, squeezing his arm further around your hips when he got comfortable in the bed beside you. “Brings a whole new meaning to a killer orgasm, doesn’t it?”
It was easy getting relaxed with Negan. You didn’t plan for it, but somewhere along the way of trying to gather your strength, you found yourself falling asleep with him. It was the sound of a car alarm going off outside that had you shocking yourself awake. At first you didn’t realize where you were. The room was dark and being wrapped up in Negan’s arms while the both of you were sleeping was not something you were expecting. You didn’t hate it, but when your eyes fell upon the picture of Negan and Lucille that was in the bedroom you felt your heart dropping.
“Fuck,” you cussed out, carefully moving out of Negan’s arms doing your best not to wake him as you moved. Negan was a married man and you just had some of the best sex of your life with this man. What the hell were you thinking? Of course, you knew what you were thinking. Negan was one of the sexiest men you had ever laid eyes on, but you also really liked Lucille and what you had done was so extreme.
Gathering your clothes, you haphazardly pulled them on so you could sneak back to your home. You were happy that you were able to sneak out without Negan waking up, but you had no idea how you were going to face Negan and Lucille again. When it was happening, you just got so lost in the moment that you forgot completely that Negan was married to Lucille. Or maybe you just didn’t care, but you should have.
Almost immediately you made your way to the shower. Your body was still weak from everything you put it through. You were going to need to hydrate yourself and get some kind of rest. Negan wasn’t kidding when he told you he was going to destroy your pussy because he did. Everything ached. It was a good ache, but it was like you could still feel him inside of you.
Toward the end of your shower, you heard your doorbell ringing. It was a few times so you rushed in the shower and wrapped a towel around your body. Hooking it together tightly, you made your way to the door to open it. Before you could react, Lucille was walking into your home and you let out a worried sound when she headed toward the center of your living room.
“Lucille,” you clung to the towel that was around you, a breath catching in your throat with the way that Negan’s wife was storming into your home. “What are you doing here?”
“I need a drink and I just…” Lucille finally turned to you to see that you were in only a towel and she smirked. “Well, I came here to ask you if you wanted to go to the bar down the street with me because I had a hard day at work with my asshole boss, but you look…”
“A little underdressed?” you finished, thanking God that Lucille wasn’t here to kick your ass for what happened between you and Negan earlier today. “Yeah, I think I’m going to have to take a raincheck, but we can definitely do it another time.”
“Were you in the shower?” Lucille seemed amused that you came to the door in nothing but a towel and you shrugged your shoulders. “You could have gotten dressed.”
“It sounded important,” you reasoned with her, throwing your hand up in the air while your other hand held tightly to the towel.
“When did you wake up?” Lucille questioned, folding her arms out in front of her chest. With her green eyes locked on yours, you shrugged and cleared your throat uneasily. “Was Negan a good host for you. Did he make you breakfast?”
“He was a good host,” you explained with a nod of your head, a warmth flooding into your cheeks at the thought of your interaction with Negan. “You both have been really good to me. I couldn’t complain. I’m sorry for passing out last night.”
“You can’t help when that happens,” Lucille pointed out, her eyes falling to the top of your towel and you swallowed down hard. “I just feel bad because you missed out on the rest of the night’s festivities.”
“I can only imagine how good those were,” you bit down on your bottom lip knowing that you watched Lucille and Negan having sex together. It took you a minute to gather yourself before pointing back toward your bedroom. “You know, if you really want that drink, I can grab you something and get you one here. I’ll get dressed…”
“Hey,” Lucille called out to you when you turned away from her. You felt her arm snaking around your waist to pull you back to her and a chill ran down your spine. “What’s the rush? If you’re comfortable, I don’t mind.”
“Lucille,” you breathed out her name realizing that her hand was dragging across your breasts through the material of the towel that you were wearing. “What is this?”
“What?” Lucille’s nose nuzzled in against the side of your neck and the warmth of her breath had your eyes slamming shut. Chills flooded your body again when you felt the delicate kiss that Lucille pressed over your shoulder. “I had a stressful day at work and I just thought we could destress together.”
“Is that what this is?” you panted when her kisses started to tamper off over the side of your neck. Licking your lips, you were doing your best to keep it together as Negan’s wife started to pamper your body with delicate kisses. It was vastly different than Negan’s approach, but you didn’t hate it. Your heart started to hammer in your chest again. Lifting your hand, your fingers hooked with hers and you bit down on your bottom lip. “What about your drink?”
“I don’t know. I think you might be better than that drink,” Lucille replied, being forceful in the way that she led you toward the wall in your living room to slam you back against it. Huffing out, Lucille’s beautiful eyes linked with yours and you felt your mouth going dry. “Are you against this kind of thing?”
“Fucking around with my neighbor?” you bit down on your bottom lip, your eyebrows bouncing up when Lucille smiled at your response. After what you did with Negan this morning, you had a good answer for that one. “Can’t say that I’m overly against it.”
“That’s not what I was asking you,” Lucille’s thumb dragged across your bottom lip leading you to instinctively press a faint kiss against the pad of it.
“I know you see the way I look at you,” you countered, lifting your hand to brush your fingers through Lucille’s blonde hair. Fuck, today was starting to feel like the luckiest day of your life with two of the most attractive people you’d ever seen throwing themselves at you. And you were just too deeply into it to turn either one of them away.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Lucille reasoned until you swept your fingers in over her jawline to urge her close to you so you could bring your lips together in a lingering kiss. Maybe this was bad considering you truly wondered how well you cleaned up after you did what you had with her husband earlier in the day. Each sweep of Lucille’s lips over yours were perfect and it drew you further in toward her. After separating from the kiss, there was a smile over Lucille’s beautiful face and it took your breath away. “I just had to make sure that I wasn’t forcing anything on you.”
“Someone would have to be a fucking idiot to turn you away,” you announced, letting out a nervous breath when Lucille’s fingers traced up over the towel that you were wearing. It didn’t take much to get the material separated having it fall to your feet. Your throat went dry with the way that Lucille was looking over you and you bit down on your bottom lip. Boldly stepping forward, Lucille curled her fingers around the back of your neck pulling you to her so she could bring your lips together again. Between her and Negan, they were so vastly different, but you enjoyed both of them so very much. Lucille’s hand caressing down over the small of your back had you purring out. By the time her hand caressed over the swell of your bottom you were breathless. “You know, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
Part of you wondered if this was something Negan came up with, but by the expression over Lucille’s face it made you question that thought, “I just mean if you don’t like me like this, you don’t have to pretend to feel this way.”
“If I didn’t like you like this, I wouldn’t have been trying to do this since you got here,” Lucille stated, her other hand sliding down between the valley of your breast causing you to inhale sharply. Sweeping her thumb over the swell of your breast had a breath hitching in your throat. “I couldn’t tell if you were into women at first. You’re a tough cookie to crack.”
“I’m into beauty. I don’t think I need to put a label on it,” you declared with a hum, your head tipping back against the wall when Lucille’s thumb circled your nipple getting it to harden with her touch. “I like what I like.”
“That’s good enough for me,” Lucille’s mouth covered yours again, focusing at your bottom lip as you worked with the sundress that she had been wearing for work. Managing to get the material from her body, it dropped at her ankles with your towel and you swallowed down hard. Having Lucille standing before you in her bra and panties drove you crazy with desire all over again. “The way you look at me makes me feel like a teenage girl all over again.”
“Is that a bad thing?” your fingers caressed over her slender hip and over her ribcage. It made Lucille bite down on her bottom lip when she brought your bodies closer together.
“No, I like it. I like it a lot,” she suggested, urging you to kiss her again.
Right now, with the two of you it was more about learning to touch each other. Lucille was so much more delicate than Negan, but she still had that power in her that drew you to her. In her relationship with Negan, you knew she was the boss and in charge. There was no questioning it. It was incredibly sexy to you. Purring out, you enjoyed the way that Lucille’s lips tampered off over the side of your neck and down over your collarbone. That was one thing about Lucille and Negan. They both were taking charge with things when it came to you and you didn’t hate it. When Lucille’s lips covered your breast, you stroked your fingers at the back of her neck and whimpered out at the sensation. Everything was already so sensitive with your body, that it felt phenomenal being pampered again. Working your fingers around the back of her, you palmed down over the lengths of her body and purred out. Maybe you should have been questioning things better, but you just didn’t care. You were living in the moment and there was no pulling you out of it. Managing to unhook Lucille’s bra, you let the material drop down her arms. Lucille stepping back had you crying out with the warmth of her mouth leaving you, but she managed to pull the bra from her body. Just the sight of her caused a breath to hitch in your throat.
“You are fucking gorgeous,” you alerted Lucille and the smile it gave her took your breath away. Between Negan and Lucille, you always had a hard time debating which one of them you liked better. Today still didn’t give you an answer to that question. They both were phenomenal. Boldly stepping forward, Lucille brought your bodies together and the warmth of hers pressed against yours had chills flooding your veins. Instead of what happened with Negan, this was slow and drawn out. Anticipation was building between the two of you. Touching each other in unhurried caresses felt amazing and the kisses that you shared between were like a gift that you had been waiting for. “Lucille…”
Part of you wanted to say something, but she hushed you. Her lips covering yours when her hand trailed a line from the side of your neck, down between the valley of your breasts, down over your abdomen and between your thighs. Sucking in a sharp breath of air, you tipped your head back and allowed her to kiss down over the side of your neck with her fingertips dancing over the length of your sex. The sensitivity that Negan left you with was still there, but your hips happily arched up toward the touch of Lucille’s soft fingertips taking their time with you. Between the two of them, you didn’t know what you did to deserve this kind of pampering, but you liked it. Hell, you loved it.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to do this,” Lucille breathed out with a purr following when you felt Lucille’s fingers entering you. It had your head falling back against the wall, but your eyes stayed connected with hers.
“You should have taken your chance,” you trailed your fingers down the center of her slender abdomen toward the top of her panties. Pushing your fingers beneath the material of her panties, your breath caught in your throat when Lucille’s eyes came to a fluttering close with the sensation of your fingertips tracing over her most intimate parts. Urging her legs further apart with your free hand, you mirrored her movements in inserting one of your fingers into her warmth. A second soon followed and it had her lips crashing down in over yours. Passionate kisses were shared between the two of you, breathless moans falling from your lips with the both of you fingering one another. Thank God for the wall behind you helping to brace you because your legs were a shaking mess with everything that happened already today.
Lucille’s fingers slid up over your throat, grabbing a firm hold of your jaw. Forcing your head back had a wince falling from your throat, but you liked the way that Lucille was manhandling you. Your body was on fire, your flesh tingling with excitement.
“You are full of surprises,” Lucille panted against your lips with her body pressing as closely to yours as possible. Backstepping, Lucille had you following her movements until the both of you fell on top of your couch together. The sheer dominance in the way that Lucille was taking over everything had your pulse leaping in your throat and chills flooding down your spine. Every kiss and touch you were eager for with your hips arching up toward every movement of her fingers inside of you. And she was just as eager, her cries of pleasure mirroring yours the stronger the force of your fingers inside of her were.
“Lucille,” you cried out her name, your moan vibrating against her lips when your thighs began to tremor. Tipping your head, you attempted to keep up the tempo of your fingers inside of her with her hips thrusting against the movements aiding to the friction it was causing her with your palm against her clitoris. By the time she was tremoring over you, your body was done and you were happy to have her laying in beside you when you both shared a moment of bliss between each other. “Wow.”
“Wow,” Lucille repeated with a smirk, her head tipping to the side to stare out at you with the both of you cuddled close together on your couch. “I feel like you’re going to be needing another shower.”
“No kidding,” you cracked a smile, your eyes closing with the way the room felt like it was spinning around you. Lucille’s head cuddled in against your collarbone and it felt nice having her laying up against you. It was comforting and it made you feel more connected with her. At least with Lucille and Negan, you didn’t feel like a booty call, even if that’s what you were. You felt admired and wanted by the way they were both incredibly touchy and passionate with you even after your sexual moments together. Although, it was short lived. By the time that Lucille’s breathing had returned to normal she was sitting up on the couch and heading over to her clothes to put them back on. “You’re not staying?”
“Negan is making dinner,” Lucille explained, gazing back at you with her gorgeous green eyes. “I might already be late for that.”
“Negan, right,” you cleared your throat adjusting yourself on the couch with Lucille’s eyes still locked on you.
“You’re welcome to come if you’d like,” Lucille chuckled after the words fell from her lips. “No pun intended, even if it sounded bad.”
“I don’t know,” you began, suddenly feeling guilty that you did this with both Lucille and Negan when they were married. You were starting to question if it made you a bad person sleeping with two people that were married and not giving a shit at the time about their significant other. Being together with the both of them was just going to make it extremely complicated. “I think I shouldn’t.”
“Well the offer is on the table,” Lucille finished up with her clothes, moving back to the couch to bend down to leave you with a lingering kiss. A sweep of her fingers over the side of your face made you sigh when she pulled away. “Feel free to come over whenever you please.”
And with that, she left you. It was probably hours that you remained on that couch. Your thoughts eating away at you thinking back on both moments that you shared with Negan and Lucille. If things kept up like this, you were going to get addicted to the both of them and you knew that you couldn’t since they were married.
That was honestly all you could think about. All night long. By morning, you had barely slept. How could you after all that overstimulation? Your body could have used the sleep, but the two of them were all you could think about.
It took a while to gather yourself, but toward the afternoon you looked outside to see that Negan had been working on his motorcycle with Lucille often joining him. You had to talk to the two of them and let them know that you couldn’t see them anymore. Or else it was going to get to be too much and you knew that.
Heading over to their home felt awkward. How the hell were you going to tell them why you were saying this without letting the other know that you slept with their significant other the day before?
“Hey there gorgeous,” Negan’s raspy voice rumbled, lifting his head up from where he was working when he heard your footsteps. Negan was in a pair of blue jeans and a white tank top. With the hot sun beaming down over him, he had gotten a little sweaty. Standing up straight, Negan reached for the towel that he had for himself to wipe off his hands and he met you halfway. Going to lean down, it felt like Negan was about to kiss you, but your hand placed over the center of his chest to stop him. Confusion flooded his handsome features, his head tipping to the side. “Is everything okay?”
“I need to talk to you and Lucille,” you explained lowering your head down doing your best not to look at Negan. Because if you looked at Negan? You knew it wouldn’t take much to have you in awe of that man and his dimples all over again.
“Yeah, okay,” Negan’s hand reached out to grab a hold of yours to lead you toward the front door of his home. Even having him grabbing your hand like that had you confused with things here. “Mama? Y/N wants to talk to us.”
“Hold on Negan,” Lucille’s voice called out with Negan urging you to lean back against their Mustang. The way his hazel eyes stared out at you was giving you butterflies in your stomach and you damned yourself for getting so hooked on them. The sound of their storm door being pushed open was heard and you noticed Lucille moving in behind Negan. “Hey honey. What’s going on?”
“I know this is probably going to sound terrible because of how wonderful the both of you have been to me,” you were hating yourself for even coming to this, feeling a lump developing in your throat with Lucille’s arms wrapping loosely around Negan’s waist. “But I think I’ve come to the realization I need to put some space between myself and the two of you because…well,” you looked between the two, “I just don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“I’m confused,” Lucille’s fingers stroked at the back of Negan’s neck, twirling the dark curls of hair that were there. “Was your sex bad daddy?”
“Was my sex bad?” Negan stammered, his tone suddenly becoming dramatic when he turned to face his wife. Pointing at his chest, Negan stole a quick look at Y/N and smirked. “My sex had her squirting all over the place leaving her in tears of joy. I wore her out so much that she passed out for a few hours with how many orgasms she had.”
“Well maybe not all people like that kind of sex,” Lucille suggested dragging her fingers down over the side of Negan’s neck where it was damp from him sweating.
“How do we know it wasn’t your sex that turned her off?” Negan scoffed, his nose wrinkling suddenly making Lucille offended at the idea. Hearing the two of them bickering with one another about them having sex with her suddenly brought forth an onset of confusion.
“Wait, you both knew…” you concluded causing both of them to look over at you. You felt your heart drop with how they both looked after your words.
“Honey, we were trying to get you to have sex with the both of us before you passed out,” Lucille commented with an amused breath. “You don’t think we didn’t know about the sex we had with you?”
“I thought you liked the both of us?” Negan reached up to wipe the sweat from his brow. It had your throat going dry and you stood awkwardly before them. “I thought you’d want to be part of something like this. We both like you, a lot and thought you’d be a great addition to our marriage.”
“Oh wow, yeah, I had no idea,” you thought about the night you had passed out and realized that maybe it was something that you should have picked up on sooner. “I’m an idiot.”
“A little more innocent than I think you give yourself credit for,” Lucille chuckled, tipping up on her toes to whisper something in Negan’s ear. With a nod, Negan stepped forward, his hands sliding in over your hips eliciting a loud exhale to fall from your throat. “Does that mean you still want to stop doing this? I thought the three of us would have a good thing here. You can come and go as you please. We won’t force you into anything.”
“It’s all up to you,” Negan bobbed his head about, his smile tugging at his handsome features. The closeness of him took your breath away. Licking his lips, Negan dipped down to start kissing over your jawline and it had your eyes coming to a tight close. “I don’t think you want to stop this whole thing. Do you?”
“No,” you answered honestly, your lips being covered by Negan’s. Curling your fingers around the back of his neck, you tipped up in closer to him eager to meet his lips in the heated kiss. Palming down your back led to Negan squeezing over your full bottom. Purring out against his lips had him firmly turning you to face the Mustang. Placing your hands out over the side of it, Negan’s hands were quick to cover your hips pulling you back to him. Growling out, Negan’s mouth found its way to the side of your neck with his arm hooking around your waist to pull your bottom back against his groin. “Negan. Fuck.”
“So does this mean that you want to be part of what we have going on here?” Lucille leaned against the Mustang beside you, her green eyes hooked on yours while Negan’s hips started to buck up against your bottom. Stepping in closer, Lucille curled her finger underneath your chin to pull your face to her. Behind hooded eyes, you stared out at her almost feeling high with the way that Negan was attempting to entice you. “You can say no if you want.”
“I’d be an idiot to say no,” you panted with Lucille stealing a kiss from your lips. Gasping out, you felt Negan’s fingers pushing into your pants to get them down your hips and you heard the sound of Negan’s belt jingling before his zipper was being pulled down. A firm grasp of Negan’s hands over your hips had you crying out when he brought you where he needed you. Moaning out in unison with Negan as he entered you from behind had Lucille purring against your lips. You were clinging onto their Mustang as that familiar full stretching feeling of Negan’s cock buried deep inside of you was felt.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” Negan buried his nose against the side of your neck when his hips started rolling behind you with his groin bucking up against your bottom. Smack after smack of his hips against your ass had your head pressing against their Mustang. There was something incredibly dangerous about having Negan fucking you outside in their front yard on a hot summer day, but for some reason you didn’t give a shit. Plunge after delicious plunge of his cock inside of you had you up on your tip toes, your hips doing their best to rock back into his thrusts. “I knew you couldn’t say no to this cock.”
“We should take this into the house daddy,” Lucille urged hearing Negan grunt when he pulled his hips back and away from your body leaving you falling forward against the Mustang. Your legs were shaking with the presence of Negan’s body leaving yours. Shakily you pulled your pants back over your hips and saw Negan gazing back as he pushed his cock back into his jeans. Not that it hid much because you could visibly see the line of Negan’s girthy cock through the material. There were people walking outside, but before you could have much of a reaction to it, Lucille was leading you up the stairs to their home on your shaky legs. Once you were inside, Lucille pulled you to her and had you falling in against her as Negan followed the two of you in. Closing the door behind him, Negan pressed in behind you trapping you between the two of them and it had you panting. “If you think we’re good apart, you can only imagine how good we are together.”
“Fuck,” you purred out with Negan’s lips back to covering over your jawline as he kissed over your sensitive flesh. Lucille’s fingers grabbed at the bottom of your shirt, bringing it up your body. Once it reached your arms, she stepped back allowing you to lift them for her to help you take it off. In seconds Negan’s fingers were digging into your pants to get them down again needing you to kick out of your shoes while they worked together to get you standing naked between them. “Are you both sure?”
“Do we not seem sure?” Negan chuckled against your flesh, his hand finding its way between your thighs having you resting your head back against his shoulder. Lucille’s lips were trailing down over the other side of your neck and over your chest. When her lips covered your breast, Negan’s caress between your thighs grew harder. Your body was on fire. Shaking and your core dripping with anticipation. Unsteadily you reached for Lucille’s shirt that she was wearing working it up her body. “Good girl.”
Getting Lucille’s shirt off had you whimpering out with the circling caress of Negan’s rough fingertips over your extremely sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Hold her tight,” Lucille instructed Negan and it left you breathless when Lucille worked to get the rest of her clothes off.
“Yes mama,” Negan snickered, his arm hooking loosely around your waist from behind. His palm caressed up over the length of your abdomen with Lucille lowering down on her knees before you. It had a breath catching in your throat with Negan’s other hand lifting up to grab a firm grasp of your throat. The warmth of Lucille’s kisses started at your hip, lowering down over your thigh having you tremoring against Negan’s grasp. “You are such a good girl.”
“Negan,” you turned your head slightly so his lips could claim yours in a hungry kiss with his tongue brushing out against yours. Whimpering out, you felt Lucille’s lips pressing between your thighs and you were thankful Negan was holding you up. You were a trembling mess when the warmth of Lucille’s lips surrounded your clit and then the teasing flick of her tongue followed.
“Does that feel good baby?” Negan’s fingers squeezed tighter at your throat and you purred out. Nipping at your bottom lip, Negan squeezed his other hand over your breast and snickered. “It’s rare Lucille and I can agree on someone we both want in our relationship. From the start, we both knew that we had to have you.”
“Lucille,” you sobbed lowering your hand to sink your fingers into her hair with her pleasuring you. Once again, she was so vastly different from how Negan did things, but you liked it. The contrast made things so much more appealing to you. The soft bucking of Negan’s hips against your bottom had them faintly bouncing forward into the caresses of Lucille’s mouth over you having your cries growing louder.
“Your just happy to be pampered aren’t you?” Negan slurred, a moan falling from his throat when you reached around you with your other palm to caress over the front of Negan’s jeans. Helping you get his pants open, Negan grunted against the side of your neck when your hand dipped into his pants to curl your fingers around his thick manhood. “Fuck darlin’, you are so fucking good.”
Cooing out, you couldn’t help but whine with Lucille pulling her mouth from your body when she rose slowly. Meeting your lips in a wet kiss had your taste lingering against her mouth and you hummed out with your tongue brushing against hers. Lucille urged you to face Negan and his mouth met yours in a strong kiss that shocked you with how much you enjoyed it. Over and over again his lips caressed over yours with Lucille tugging at the bottom of his tank top.
Helping Lucille, you got Negan’s tank top from his body and dropped the material on the ground. Kissing over Negan’s shoulders, you found yourself charmed with the freckles that covered his skin and you hummed with Lucille kissing at the side of your neck.
“On your knees honey,” Lucille ordered, sinking her fingers into your hair. Obeying, you lowered down and Lucille pushed at Negan’s pants to get them down. Lucille’s slender fingertips stroked at Negan’s cock drawing attention to the swollen tip that had precum developing at it. Helping Negan out of his boots and his pants, you felt your mouth grow wet watching Lucille caressing over Negan’s hard cock. They were kissing and the way that they were kissing had your heart hammering in your chest. Hell, just getting to see them together was more than enough for you. With her other hand, Lucille motioned you in closer to Negan and she nodded toward Negan’s erection. “Take his cock into your mouth.”
“Yes ma’am,” you purred out and Negan moaned when Lucille led his cock to your wet lips. Keeping your eyes hooked on them, you gagged slightly with Negan bucking his hips toward your throat but eagerly worked your mouth over his length. Remembering what Negan liked the day before, you were sure to pleasure him the best way you could, your right hand caressing over his testicles while your left caressed over the side of his body and around to squeeze over his small bottom.
“You like her mouth daddy?” Lucille questioned against Negan’s lips while they kissed making Negan smile.
“So fucking much,” Negan hissed, his hips arching up toward the motions of your mouth over him. Lucille’s kiss lowered down over his jawline. Wincing out, Negan licked his lips when Lucille’s tongue circled his nipple and nipped faintly at it. Lucille’s kisses lowered down over his hips before she joined you on her knees beside you. Pulling your mouth away from Negan’s with a wet sound, you leaned in to meet Lucille in a kiss and Negan’s fingers caressed both at the back of your neck and Lucille’s. When you parted, Lucille took Negan’s cock between her lips bobbing her head over his length. While she did that, you kissed down over Negan’s testicles eliciting one of the sexiest moans you heard from Negan. The tension from Negan’s fingers hooked in your hair was tight. Gradually your lips rose up over his hip before you joined Lucille who pulled back. Lapping at the head of Negan’s cock with your tongue had his head dropping back, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. Joining you, Lucille’s tongue twisted with yours on occasion with the two of you focusing on the sensitive tip. “Christ…”
Gasping out, you felt Negan lower down onto his knees with you and he hooked his arm around your waist to pull you to him, “Do you want to ride daddy’s face or cock?”
“Let Lucille get a ride on your beautiful cock,” you responded, allowing Negan to lower himself on the floor. Watching Lucille crawl in over Negan, you took a moment to enjoy yourself at the sight with his large hands grasping Lucille’s hips when she braced herself. Excitement flooded your veins at the sight of Lucille’s eyes closing once she lowered down over Negan’s cock.
“Come on,” Negan snapped his fingers helping you to crawl in over him so you were facing Lucille. The grasp Negan had on your hips was strong when you lowered just enough for Negan’s tongue to drag across the length of your sex. In this position, you and Lucille could kiss while Negan had his way with you and Lucille had her way with him.
“You look so fucking gorgeous riding his cock like that,” you slurred against Lucille’s lips, a whine falling from your throat with how hard Negan’s mouth was working over your body. Negan’s grasp on your thighs was strong and your body involuntarily was rocking back against the movement of Negan’s mouth.
All of your moans surrounded the living room, with you enjoying one another. Falling forward, you did your best not to fuck up Lucille’s movements over Negan while he continued to use his wickedly talented mouth to pleasure you.
“Fuck Negan,” you muttered, your hips shaking against him and that’s when you realized your body was still incredibly sensitive from the night before. A proud rumble from Negan’s throat vibrated against your sex when he was quick to bring you to an orgasm. Pulling your hips from Negan’s mouth had him groaning out, but you crawled on the floor to the other side behind Lucille. Peppering kisses over the side of her neck, you worked your fingers over her clitoris while Negan’s hips bounced up toward her again and again from underneath her. “Come for us beautiful.”
Between her pants and sobs, you knew that Lucille was close and so did Negan by the sounds of his hips smacking harder beneath her. Once it had Lucille pulling her hips up and away from Negan, you knew that by her shaking that she reached an orgasm. Grunting out, Negan lifted up and curled his arm around Lucille’s waist. Kissing down over the side of Lucille’s neck, you stroked your fingers through Negan’s damp hair. It led his lips to yours, kissing him but then being pulled to Lucille for another kiss. It was about sharing in this moment and the three of you were doing it well.
Palming down over the side of your face, Lucille shakily got up to her feet and moved over toward the couch to sit down. It had Negan smirking when he forcefully urged you onto your hands and knees facing toward the couch so Lucille could watch your reactions.
“Fuck honey,” Negan slurred, the warmth of his body pressing in behind yours. Just the heat radiating against you felt amazing with Negan’s right-hand tracing from your lower back up to your neck. His left hand squeezed over your bottom before a firm whack was placed over your cheek. Your eyes slammed shut with a moan escaping your parted lips. “You have such an amazing ass.”
The sound of Negan adjusting behind you was heard and you looked over your shoulder to get a look back at him. The way that the dark curls of hair clung to his slender body from the dampness of his flesh drew attention to the lines of his torso and it drew you to him so much more. You found everything about Negan sexy. From his tattoos to the slenderness of his form along with the soft fleshy area beneath his bellybutton. Negan’s body in your opinion was perfection. Just like Lucille’s was. But it was definitely Negan’s attitude that really drew more to his sex appeal. Just getting to see him in this state would fuel you for years to come. With the way Negan’s long slender fingers curled around his straining cock, it had your mouth going wet. It brought attention to the swollen tip and the prominent veins in his manhood.
Noticing that you were staring had Negan’s head bobbing about in an arrogant fashion. There was no question that your attraction to him fueled him. The weight of Negan tapping his cock against your ass made you purr out, lifting your hips up closer to him and an amuse rumble fell from him.
“You can’t wait to be full of Negan’s cock again, huh? Good girl,” Negan praised you, leading his cock back into your heated abyss with an unhurried push forward of his hips so you could take the time to feel all of him inside of you. It surprised you how much it actually affected you with the sensation of him filling you every time. Just feeling every ridge and every vein felt incredible. That was honestly what Negan wanted in his meticulous movements. To have you realize just how lucky you actually were to be experiencing this kind of moment. Negan was good. Hell, he knew that and was stressing it to you in the way he did things. “Your tight little pussy feels so fucking good. You know that?”
“Yes daddy,” you licked your lips crying out when he filled you completely. Your hips wanted to bounce forward, but you did your best to stay put when the pressure of Negan’s fingers wrapping around the back of your neck was felt again. With no movement, it was the most addictive torturous feeling because it felt great to have that full feeling, but your body was desperate for the movement. “Please.”
“Please what?” Negan mused, lowering down to press hot, wet kisses over your shoulder. Lifting your stare showed you that Lucille was staring out at the two of you with a smirk. “Use your words beautiful.”
“Fuck me,” you begged, your whine following when you tried to move your hips, but you couldn’t with the grasp that Negan had over you. “I want you to fuck me.”
“Yes ma’am,” Negan snickered against your shoulder, nipping at the flesh a final time before readjusting himself. With the firm smack of his hips against yours, it had you purring out and biting into your bottom lip. Every thrust was slow, but it was rough enough to have your hips bouncing forward. With each roll of his hips, each one got just that much faster and by the time he was pounding into you from behind you were having a hard time keeping yourself up on your hands. Crawling forward slightly had Negan following your movements when you got close enough to grab a hold of Lucille’s thighs to keep yourself from falling over. Your sobs of pleasure matched Negan’s moan with Lucille’s stroking her fingers through your hair.
“She really is high off your dick baby,” Lucille muttered and an amused sound fell from his throat. Pressing kisses over the inside of Lucille’s thigh had her body lowering down in closer to yours with her legs separating.
“That’s because I’m that fucking good honey,” Negan was arrogant in the way he responded. Pressing in closer to you had your head pressing back against his chest as he leaned forward to meet Lucille halfway in a feverish kiss. His hips were still bucking up against yours while you were pressed between the two of them. Using your right hand, you grasped firmly to Negan’s hips feeling that all familiar sensation building up inside of you.
“Don’t stop,” you pled with Negan’s fingers digging harder into your hips. Giving you what you wanted, Negan’s mouth pulled from Lucille’s and covered yours with your cries vibrating against his lips. Over and over he pounded into you, until your body pulled up and away from his having his moan follow and an amused rumble fell from his throat with your wet release. “Fuck…fucking…”
“Oh, he’s very good, isn’t he?” Lucille breathed out with Negan standing up from the ground with an arrogant breath. Dropping onto the couch beside Lucille, Negan’s long legs stretched out and he pat his lap.
“Come on mama,” Negan instructed, wiggling his fingers at her. “Your turn. She’s gonna need a minute.”
Lowering down onto the ground, you rest your upper half on the couch when you saw Lucille crawling in over Negan with her back to him. She braced her feet on the couch cushions, Negan’s hands grasping tightly to her hips with her hands bracing against the back of the couch to balance herself. Helping her lead herself down over his length, Negan grabbed a hold of his erection placing it at her entrance as she lowered her hips.
“Fuck me…” Negan growled, his head falling back against the couch when Lucille started bouncing her hips eagerly over him. It had the lines in Negan’s forehead growing with him biting down on his lip. Watching them together was nice, but there was still that want to be part of it. Moving before them, you started kissing over the inside of Negan’s thighs with Lucille controlling her hips over Negan’s manhood. Focusing on his testicles had Negan moaning out since you were pampering his body with wet kisses and Lucille was riding him. “Fuck ladies…”
Pressing your kisses further up had Lucille’s hips coming to a halt when your mouth centered in over her sensitive bundle of nerves. With her whimpers filling the air, Negan picked up on what was happening and used the strength in his legs to bounce up toward Lucille again and again. Breathless moans fell from Lucille’s parted lips with you and Negan working together to bring her to her next orgasm. It was one of the dirtiest, kinkiest things you had ever done but you were all for it. You were exhilarated that these two beautiful people would want you to be involved in their relationship in the first place so you were taking advantage of it as much as you could.
With every flick of your tongue against Lucille’s sex along with Negan’s hips smacking up against her, Lucille’s lower body started to tremor. With her body tensing up and her breathing becoming uneven, it was very apparent that her orgasm was approaching. Closing your eyes, you felt Lucille’s fingers digging into your hair pulling you flush against her and her hips were lowering down over Negan’s after she lost the balance of her hand on the couch. Tremors filled her and she was breathing rapidly with Negan’s moans matching hers.
“Goddamn baby,” Negan hummed against the side of Lucille’s neck and it sent chills through your body knowing that you were able to bring her to an orgasm like that with Negan’s help. One thing about Lucille is that she was incredibly beautiful all the time, but after her orgasm, she just had this glow about her. Licking your lips, you leaned back on your knees with Lucille uneasily pulling herself to the end of the couch. A wicked smirk tugged at Negan’s lips when he realized that Lucille was needing a minute to regain her composure. “You alright sweetheart?”
“I just need a second,” she panted, holding her hand up in the air giving Negan a nod. Licking his lips, Negan nodded his head, his eyes locking with yours when he held his hand out.
“Come on honey,” Negan stood up from the couch, his cock near your eye level making you smile. Accepting his hand, Negan carefully led you to the couch leaning you back so that way you were resting your head in Lucille’s lap. It made Lucille smile when Negan managed to move in over you on the couch. Pushing your legs up over his arms, Negan looked between the two of you to line his cock up with your entrance again. Smacking forward had you gasping out when he filled you again. That was something you didn’t think you would ever get sick of. An arrogant smile followed after your response to having him inside of you again. “I think we found a good one mama. I think this one is going to fit with us perfectly fine.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Lucille commented, her fingers tracing over your face when Negan started to thrust into you again. Negan’s hands were braced firmly against the couch and your fingers were curled around his wrists. Everything in this moment felt more intimate. From Lucille’s fingertips sweeping over your face to Negan’s now, fluid and sturdy movements you knew that you could find yourself getting lost in all of this.
“You’ve been such a good girl over the last few days,” Negan praised you, his muted moans falling from his throat. “I can only imagine how sensitive your pussy is right now, but you’ve taken my dick so well darlin’.”
As Lucille’s thumb swept in over your bottom lip, you parted your lips and took the tip of it into your mouth. Nibbling at the pad of her thumb had Lucille breathing out in a long exhale, her eyes watching your facial expressions as Negan continued to fuck you. Sharp breaths and winces were falling from the both of you with Negan’s continuous, deep plunges inside of you.
“I’m going to come soon,” Negan announced, the lines in his forehead growing with his thrusts getting harder. The sounds of your skin smacking got louder and you clung harder to Negan’s wrists. Lowering her hand, Lucille’s fingertips found their way to your clitoris caressing over it in tempo with Negan’s thrusts. “Fuck…”
The vein at the side of Negan’s neck was prominent when he adjusted his positioning on the couch over you to be able to kiss you while he rolled his hips in a different fashion. With Lucille caressing at your body and Negan’s thrusts you could feel a fire building up in your abdomen. Rocking your hips against his movements felt amazing between the friction of both his cock and Lucille’s fingers. Shakily lifting your left hand you sank your fingers into Negan’s hair with your tongue brushing against his. Mewling out, your thighs tremored when the duo worked together to get you to another orgasm. With your body convulsing and clenching around his, it had Negan’s thrusts growing faster before he swiftly pulled his hips from yours to shakily stand up. Moving before both you and Lucille, Negan started furiously pumping away at his cock. Leaning forward Lucille took Negan into her mouth and Negan’s hips eagerly thrust his body into the warmth of her mouth.
Even through tremors you were able to push up on your palms to join Lucille. Taking turns, you watched Lucille’s eyes come to a tight close when Negan tossed his head back, his abdomen twitching when the first line of his come hit the back of her throat. Swallowing down, Lucille pumped her hand over Negan’s shaft before his dark eyes looked to you.
“Hold out your tongue baby,” Negan instructed and you did as he asked when he pulled his cock from Lucille’s lips with a wet sound. Stroking at the length of his cock had the last few ropes of his cum covering your tongue before you took him back into your mouth to get the rest of his release swallowed down. Gasping out, you felt your head being pulled back by Negan’s fingers and he gave you a wolfish smile. “Good girl.”
Stealing a final, possessive kiss from your lips, Negan tasted himself against your tongue and growled out when Lucille broke your kiss to get you to give her a final kiss. Snickering, Negan shakily moved down onto the couch beside you, pulling you close so you could both rest your heads in Lucille’s lap with his arm hooked tightly around your shoulders. Your legs were tangled together while Negan’s fingers stroked at your damp shoulder.
“How do you feel?” Lucille questioned with Negan peppering faint kisses over your jawline.
“Overstimulated and sore,” you were honest with a hesitant laugh hearing Negan chuckling against your flesh. “But good.”
“Does that mean you don’t want to do this again today?” Negan captured your jaw between his thumb and index finger. “Are you all tapped out?”
“That’s not what that means at all,” you laughed, shaking your head in response cuddling your head in against the side of his neck. Comfort flooded your body with the way that Lucille’s fingers swept at the back of your neck. “Everything I feel is worth it if I get to be between the two of you again.”
“And that’s what we like to hear,” Lucille assured you with a wink when you tipped your head back to stare out at her. You didn’t know what you did to get this lucky, but you weren’t going to question it. You were just going to appreciate everything you were given and that was that.
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#Negan#Negan fanfiction#Jeffrey Dean Morgan#The Walking Dead#twd fanfiction#negan x reader#negan smut#Negan Smith#Lucille Smith#Hilarie Burton Morgan#Lucille Smith fanfiction#Negan x you#Negan x Lucille#Lucille Smith x you
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