#or at least write down my thoughts to get it all fixed in my head

[smaller-comfort]

So how do you imagine snail love darts and necrontyr working/combining? Cause I am interested~

Aksjdhsk ahahaha oh god okay here we go

(Tumblr crashed on me three times while I tried to write this, but I will not let that stop me from rambling at length about snail sex, speculative xenobiology, and various ways that necrontyr get to be fucked up little guys.)

Okay, now snails: they use the darts during courtship to deliver hormones that increase the likelihood of fertilizing their partner's eggs; after the several-hours-long mating dance, they'll exchange spermatophores. (Fun fact, the penis, copulatory canal, and dart sac are all located inside the genital pore, on the snail's head. Mating dances can involve a lot of biting.) Snails have bad aim, but it's not uncommon for both snails to end up getting stabbed during courtship.

Okay. Some assumptions/general thoughts: necrontyr do not have "dual-use" reproductive/waste elimination systems (inferred from Trazyn's hilarious disgust at the idea, but honestly it would be entirely believable for him to have completely lost any and all memories of necrontyr biology). Most higher order animals do (they're efficient!), but you start to see ones that don't when you get down to bugs and marine creatures, so that's what kicked off this train of thought.

I'm assuming also there is relatively little sexual dimorphism among necrontyr (not for any particular reason, although my understanding is that actual female necrons are a relatively new thing in wh40k lore, so that fits). And finally, everyone constantly dying of turbo cancer has led to a 'throw everything but the kitchen sink at it' evolutionary approach to reproductive strategies.

"Copulatory canal" is a deeply unsexy phrase, btw. So are most words we use when talking about sex, unfortunately. *sigh*

Okay, so, love darts. Pretty much only ever used by nobles/the military, because in the upper classes of society, sex isn't about reproduction, it's about reinforcing social hierarchies. And necrontyr social hierarchies tend to be inherently about violence in one way or another. Sexual dominance is generally more about who gets stabbed with the dart than it is about which penis is going where. (That's still a factor, but it's secondary, since genital configurations/functionality can be a bit of a wildcard.) Snails take an egalitarian approach to sex; necrontyr categorically do not. Both parties consenting to be darted would be considered weird and perverted.

Anyway. While many necrontyr do only have one set of functional reproductive organs by the time they reach adulthood (either because the other set was always vestigial or because it gets removed to reduce the spread of cancer), both sets are usually present in some fashion. Sterility would be fairly common, but medical technology is able to mitigate some of that; the lower classes, at least, need to be able to breed like rabbits to feed the war machine. Gender is mostly divorced from reproductive role by the time biotransference happens; in addition to male and female, there would have been at least one other normative gender, possibly two (to account for both null and multimodal genders). Gender fluidity would have been common and largely unremarkable for necrontyr. (It's still largely unremarkable for necrons, but it's not particularly common; they're mostly fixed with whatever gender they had at biotransference.)

The dart sac would be located in their mouths, under the tongue; it's meant to be ejected into the soft tissue of the mouth, but it's sharp enough to pierce the skin anywhere. (This does mean kissing can be Complicated, or at least somewhat subversive, depending on everyone's social standing.) Normally it gets broken down and absorbed by the recipient's body; pulling one out tends to be extremely uncomfortable/painful.

Kind of going off ancient greek/roman sexual mores here; it would be entirely unthinkable, for example, for Obyron to be the penetrative partner in either sense with Zahndrekh. (Then again, Zahndrekh is a shameless pervert.) Sex between two social equals is generally accompanied by an agreement- sometimes tacit, sometimes explicit- about not using the darts. Doing so would be an overt act of aggression. Often, to prevent any potential misunderstandings, they'll voluntarily empty their dart sacs ahead of time.

Forcing someone to empty their dart sac prior to sex is a pretty common form of sexual humiliation. When done voluntarily, it's a sign of submission or respect. (Darts usually have a refractory period of a few days, depending on the person's overall health. Single-chambered dart sacs are typical, but multiples aren't unheard of. Leads to occasional 'surprise! You thought I was submitting to you but now you're getting fucked instead' situations.)

The exact cocktail of hormones and neurochemicals it injects the other person with would vary somewhat between individuals, but can potentially vary widely between dynasties or social classes due to genetic/geographic/cultural differences. Some might include a mild paralytic agent; some sort of euphoric effect is also common. (This is all in addition to the original function, which, uh. Is to make the recipient more likely to get pregnant.) The shape of the dart varies in a similar fashion, ranging from a straight, smooth bone spike to something more elaborate with barbs or fluting.

(A bloody mouth can signify a lot of things to necrontyr- in addition to violence or illness, it's also inherently erotic. Necrons who remember this try very, very hard not to think about it when confronted with Flayed Ones.)

(Yenekh: *very sexily smearing his mouth with blood and draping himself all over Oltyx*

Crypteks have their own social hierarchies within their conclaves, but they're usually not as concerned with sexual politics as nobles and the military tend to be. Most people believe that crypteks all lace their love darts with poison, and the crypteks don't try to discourage that assumption. Some of them probably do, tbh.

Oltyx: *oblivious, can't stop thinking about how pretty Yenekh is*

The rest of the flayed ones: *still not sure why their king and his consort haven't fucked nasty in a pile of carrion yet. Maybe they need a bigger pile of carrion? Yes, that's probably it. They will take care of this for their beloved king.*)

Necrons, of course, don't have genitalia, but they can still stab each other with love dart analogues- this ranges from things like executive buffer override packages sent via interstitial channel, to actually physically jamming a spike of necrodermis into a neural input node. (From a purely aesthetic/romantic standpoint I also like the idea of love darts constructed out of crystallized core flux. The first time Zahndrekh does that to Obyron he goes into complete cascade failure and takes several hours to reboot.)

If Orikan and Trazyn did have sex pre-biotransference, one of them would have darted the other without permission (probably accidentally, being that they are both intensely nerdy losers and thus Bad At Sex by necrontyr standards), setting off a sixty-five million year hate-sex feud that neither of them can even remember the origin of. Orikan would've gone after Trazyn's mouth with a pair of pliers at some point; joke's on him, Trazyn's into that.

(Trazyn does have a collection of necrontyr love darts in the archives- all of them ones he collected personally when he was alive. He has no absolutely no memory of slutting it up back in the day, though, and probably doesn't even realize what they are. Sannet, unfortunately, does remember, and wishes he didn't. He has had to put up with so, so much over the years.)

#nattering #warhams #well i have now officially thought about this Too Much ahahaha #this is what i get for trying to be funny; now everything's gotten slightly out of hand #am i even going to use any of these ideas? who knows. they are free to a good home

[bad268]

I love your writing so much!!

Can you kaybe do a Ralf Aron one where him and the readers parents go way back and they always thought that Ralf and the reader were going to marry each other?

Skip To That Part (Ralf Aron X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/WEC

Requested: Clearly (THANK YOU SO MUCH LOVE)

Warnings: None (no physical descriptions of reader)

POV: Second Person (You/you)

W.C. 1270

Summary: Let's just skip to the best part of the wedding (save me from embarrassment). + Song Rec

Join my 1K Celly

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

Today was the day. Your wedding day. As cliche as it sounded, you were excited to start the new chapter. Sure, not much of a new chapter when you grew up with your future husband, but a step forward nonetheless. Ralf and you had been friends since primary school and together since you were teens. You were interested in engineering, so it was easy to follow him around everywhere. You were able to help with his karts, and it was only a matter of time before he put a ring on your finger.

The only thoughts that ran through your head as you stood at the altar were that you could not believe it. All that planning was finally coming to fruition, and so far, it was perfect. The skies were clear, the weather was nice and the wedding itself was small. You only wanted your closest family and friends since you were both pretty reserved. Plus, this was your day. Neither of you needed to justify your want to have a small ceremony or reception. 

There was one very important part of the ceremony, though. It was something you were looking forward to, and when you first told Ralf about it, he thought it was a great idea. You had heard about people having their parents or married family members give you advice or tell a story during the ceremony, and every video you saw of it made you want to include it in your day. 

Your concentration (or lack thereof) when your mom and Ralf’s mom stood before you. You chuckled nervously before they took the place of the officiant and faced the rest of your families.

“Before we get started with the advice,” Your mom started as a few of your families looked at your mothers.

“We thought now would be a good time for a story,” His mom finished off. Everyone laughed, but you looked at Ralf nervously, knowing this was probably going to be an embarrassing story. His mom waited for everything to calm down before gesturing to your mom and saying, “For some background, I have known her for years.”

“That’s right! At least 30 years!” Your mom laughed, playing along. “And we said that when we had kids, we would force them to be friends.”

“Well, lucky for us, our kids didn’t need to be forced!” The entire group erupted in laughter as you leaned to try and hide your face in Ralf’s shoulder. “These two were always attached. I don’t even think I ever saw you apart!”

“I can think of one time where I walked in on you two-” Your mom started, but by the glint in her eyes, you knew this was not a story you wanted to air out.

“Mom, please don’t embarrass me too much on my wedding day,” You cut her off immediately. No one needed to know that story. Some things just needed to stay between you and her, and this was one of them. 

“Ok, we won’t say that story,” Your mom conceded as she brought her hand up to fix a hair that had fallen in front of your eyes. “But I will say this. One day, we took them to the local karting track. This was back when they both wanted to be F1 drivers.”

“Oh right! To say Ralf got beaten to a pulp was an understatement,” His mom chuckled, poking fun at her son.  

“We were like 7!” Ralf defended himself with a laugh.

“Anyways,” Your mom dragged out before gesturing to you, “You climbed out of that kart so quickly and ran to Ralf. I don’t even think I’ve seen Lightning McQueen go faster than that!”

“You hit him with such momentum that it knocked him over! Good thing you both were wearing helmets,” His mom joked. The rest of the guests also laughed as both of your cheeks flushed from embarrassment. “I said right then and there you two would get married, so thank you for making me 100 euros richer.”

“You bet money on my love life?” Ralf gasped as his mom added the last part. “I should get at least half! I mean, it is my life!”

“And I get the significant other’s tax of 50%,” You joked with everyone, but once everyone calmed down, you turned to your mom and mother-in-law, “Did you really make a bet based on that one interaction?”

“Oh no!” They both said quickly, almost offended at the accusation.

“There’s plenty of instances that led to the bet,” His mom said.

“Like when you first met, and you grabbed his hand and said, ‘mine’ before dragging him into your room.”

“Or when you both raced against each other, swapped cars and immediately said each other’s cars sucked.”

“Or when you joined Prema just to travel with him during his F4 and F3 champaigns.”

“Or when you said you couldn’t stand each other after every other time you hung out.”

“Or when you both admitted to not wanting to ruin your friendships because of your feelings,” Your mom exasperated. “I had to listen to it for three years! We had to do something!”

“What do you mean you had to do something?” You and Ralf asked skeptically. You did not like the sound of that. Neither of you did.

“Let’s just say someone had to give you a little push but don’t shoot the messenger,” His mom replied quickly as she raised her hands in surrender. That’s when you realized what they were talking about.

You were 15 when you became official with Ralf. He slipped a note in your post box, and you knew it was him because it was his handwriting. You knew his handwriting like the back of your hand. It was a love letter that you still had to this day. As soon as you read his confession, you went to his house and admitted your feelings. The rest was history. 

However, the way his mom said, “Don't shoot the messenger” got you thinking. You never mentioned the letter to Ralf, thinking he delivered it, but the way she said it seemed suspicious.

“Did you give me that letter?” You decided to just bite the bullet and ask.

“What letter?” Ralf asked as he glanced between you and his mom confused. “What am I missing here?”

“Ralf, did you or did you not confess to me through a letter?”

“No…” He trailed off but picked it back up in a second. “I wrote a letter once, but I threw it away. I was going to give it to you, but the day after I wrote it, you came over and confessed. I didn’t need to give it to you.”

“Would it happen to have started with, ‘How about we shift our gears and drive into the sunset together? Because with you, every road feels like a scenic route’?” His face said it all as his eye snapped to his mom. “So the bet is invalid because the messenger interfered. I petition to just move on and never speak of it again.”

With a laugh, they sat back down, and the officiant stood between us again. Just as the officiant was about to call up the first couple to give us advice, Ralf stopped them.

“Can we just skip to the part where we kiss? We can do the advice during the reception, but that story took forever,” Ralf pressed as he tried to pull you closer. The officiant looked at you for approval, to which you nodded with a sigh.

“I think it’s time we skip to that part.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

#ralf aron x reader #ralf aron x you #ralf x reader #ralf x you #ralf aron #paul aron #formula 1 #formula 2 #formula 3 #world endurance championship #wec #f1 #f2 #f3 #wec x reader #bad268 #ship268 #thing268

[jkslipppiercing]

Needy | jjk oneshot

♡ summary: your boyfriend often helps you set up for your weekly girls' night...what happens when he gets needy for you only 15 minutes before your girl friends arrive?

♡ pairing: boyfriend!jungkook, dom!jk.

♡ genre: smut, smut, aaaand- you guessed it- smut!

♡ warnings: pure filth, pwp, oral (f receiving), he eats her out, he fucks her from behind, overstimulation, squirting, choking, praise, begging, uh what else- spanking, dirty talk, cursing, creampie, raw sex, penetration, he's basically obsessed with her ass.

♡ WC: 3.2K.

♡ a/n: this is my first time experimenting with smut, so bear with me. please please please never hesitate to share your thoughts about my works with me, constructive criticism is very appreciated, since it helps me write better, and especially if what im writing is for you to read- it would help me to know what you think!

index

taglist

-unedited.

you place your hands on your hips and settle your gaze on the scene before you.

at least fifty fluffy pillows are thrown all over fuzzy bean bags that occupy the whole space in the livingroom- save for the couch that sits in the middle, faced with the TV.

you're already in your silk PJs, a silk set of shorts- that are above thigh- and a shirt. drinks, beers, and shot glasses are neatly positioned on the table, along with millions of other snacks scattered all over the place.

Jungkook usually prepares the food and snacks like popcorn, chips, and natchos while you take care of the setup with the pillows, beanbags, and blankets.

it's fifty fifty.

every saturday night, jiho and yejun- your girlfriends- get dropped off at yours for a disastrous girl's night where drinks are exchanged and secrets are spilled.

in the meantime, jungkook heads out of the apartment and to his mates'- yoongi and taehyung, respectively jiho and yejun's boyfriends- for what he calls a "mature hangout" which is anything but.

you know for a fact they play video games and gossip about all three of their girlfriends.

speaking of your boyfriend, he waltzes into the living room, two bowls of popcorn stacked on top of each other in one hand and a plate of nachos in the other.

he sets them down on the table and turns to you, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you to him rather abruptly.

you squeal, laughing when he wiggles his brows at you playfully before nuzzling his nose with yours.

you wrap your hands around his neck, putting your forehead to his.

soft locks of his hair meet your fingertips in a familiar caress, used to your touch.

your nails gently stroke Jungkook's scalp as he hums in satisfaction, his eyes shutting closed as he relishes your proximity.

"thank you."

"I already told you before, you dont need to thank me, sweetheart."

"i do, though."

"but i dont even do much."

"you do more than enough."

"it's the bare minimum. i wish i could offer more."

"shut up and accept my thanks, dumbass."

he chuckles and you pull away.

seconds later, you find yourself away from Jungkook's arms and frowning at the table, leaning down to fix the placement of the bowls Jungkook had just brought in.

"Kook! You got them wrong again! i always tell you, popcorn, natchos, popco-"

you feel a sharp slap on your ass, followed by a hushed curse.

"fuck."

you straighten, your jaw almost hitting the floor.

you were leaning down wearing short shorts, not paying attention of the possibility of flashing Jungkook. Your ass must've been on full display- scratch that- it was.

turning around, you take in the intensity of his gaze.

the earlier playfulness is long gone, replaced with cloudy chocolate eyes, hooded with something you were always able to identify- lust.

"did you just-"

he pulls you by the waist, catching you by surprise, yet again.

he looks at you in a way that quite literally has you melting, but you cant deny, youve never been wetter.

you can feel your arousal through your panties, only resulting from the mini spank delivered mere seconds ago.

"you're sexy in silk." his husky voice travels over your senses and sends them into overdrive.

just when you thought the situation couldnt get any hotter, his palms trace from your waist down to your ass.

he palms the soft tissue before squeezing it, hard.

your eyes shut immediately as you bite your lip.

his hand retracts only to land on your ass shortly after, sending a jolt of pain through your being and setting you alight with pleasure.

you gasp, incapable of making any other sound.

"bend over."

"w-what- right now?!"

"dont let me repeat myself, Y/N."

"but the girls will be here in fifteen minutes!"

"fifteen minutes is more than enough for me to make you cum more than twice."

more than twice?

dont mind if i do.

the pool of heat in your lower belly grows hotter under his gaze.

this man must be insane.

"go on." he steps away, willing you to get into the position.

you comply, bending over the armrest of the couch and stabilizing yourself on your palms.

"are you sure this is a good idea-" another spark of pain, from your ass cheek aiming to your pussy.

fuck.

you're silenced by the spank, and so, you dont say anything else. you just let the man behind you do his thing. not that you mind...

you can feel his presence behind you, and you're almost begging him to touch you until he hooks his fingers into the band of your shorts and tugs them down.

"i love your ass so fucking much." ...and another spank.

his words leave you breathless. you always knew how talented jungkook was with using his mouth, and he proves you right when he moves the string of the thong you're wearing to the side. he latches his mouth onto your pussy, eliciting a loud exhale from you.

you were never the type to scream your lungs out at the lightest touch, but you're also not hard to please, either.

at first, he works with a few nibbles and sucks on your opening, groaning into your entrance approvingly. he only gets a few gasps from you in return.

his hands are planted on your ass cheeks, spreading them apart as he dives in even deeper.

he surprises you when he pulls away, making you whine in protest but before you can straighten-

"don't move." he says from between your legs. "spread your legs wider for me, baby."

holy shit, this man is going to be the absolute death of you.

you can feel your pussy clenching around nothing at the dirty words, and you grow more achingly weak by the second.

when you do spread your legs, his tongue licks at you, but from a different angle. he switched his position so his butt is sitting on the ground beneath you, his back pressed to the couch. he grabs your hips and pulls you down to him, licking up your arousal from clit to opening then back again.

"so wet. for me?"

you hum in agreement.

it's true.

all for him.

he's no longer testing the waters, taking your clit in his mouth.

he sucks on it, causing you to moan.

you shamelessly moan at the action, but then he adds a finger.

and after he adds another finger, he moans into your pussy, sending vibrations through your body and fogging up your brain.

your mind is clouded, only focusing on the man between your legs, eating your pussy out like a hungered man.

he moves his fingers, slowly at first. you relish the delicious stretch his long fingers offer, moaning in appreciation.

it starts slow, but then his pace grows faster, snatching your breath away with it.

he's still nibbling on your clit, making your head swim.

your moans grow louder when he hits a spot with his fingers, and your mouth hangs open at the sensation.

"think you can handle another finger?" he rasps beneath you.

"please." a husky, breathless plea is all you can muster in this situation.

"please what?" he demands.

he adds another finger, making you take all three at once. he rubs your clit with his thumb, and all your thoughts are thrown out the window. you simply cant think.

his hand makes harsh contact with your ass cheek in a rough slap, doing an amazing job is heightening your pleasure.

"answer the question, y/n." his tone is dark, commanding you to reply, but you simply cant.

"oh, god!" you let out a high pitched moan when he curls all three of his fingers, knowing how to push all your buttons.

he knows. he's mapped out every inch by inch of your body, so you wouldnt be surprised if he reached certain spots even you wouldnt be able to reach.

you know that because you've tested that theory for yourself.

and you were right.

the man is a god at giving mind-blowing orgasms.

"beg for it." is all he says before he goes knuckles deep into you, basically abusing your hole. but it feels too good for you to argue, not that you want to.

he latches back on to your clit, and his fingers remain unrelenting at a fast speed.

"please, please, please!" you chant in a desperate moan for a release.

"Kook!" and right then and there, your orgasm hits you like a train and you tense. the euphoria is injected into your veins, mind-numbing you.

"that's it, baby." Jungkook coaxes you through it, pulling his fingers out to replace them with his tongue. he laps up your arousal, not wasting a single drop.

"you taste divine."

you just came, but now you want more.

Jungkook stands, leaning down to get ahold of you. you were hit with such a strong orgasm that you slumped forward in the midst of it, face planting on the couch like jello.

he hugs you from behind and you arch into him, feeling his erection.

he holds your body with one hand, grabbing your jaw and turning your face to him with the other.

you plant your lips onto his own soft ones, humming in contentment.

"thank you."

"we're no where near done for you to thank me, sweetheart."

you wouldnt come out alive.

"one more wouldnt hurt, right?" you say as if you're trying to convince yourself, aiming the words at you more than him.

he laughs, a deep rumble erupting from his chest. "we'll see."

what in bloody hell is that supposed to mean?!

the hand once holding your jaw now slithered down to your neck, claiming you as his. he pushes your hair to the side, tucking his head into the crook of your neck to place a few kisses there.

he takes your shirt off, your bra going right after as you're left naked for him to play with you.

he chokes you lightly, inhaling your scent as the other hand travels down to cup your pussy.

you're left breathless, even more so when he pinches your clit.

"who does this belong to?" he rasps into your ear, the sound so sexy it sends jolts of arousal through your spine, pooling down to wet slick between your legs.

"you." you mumble under your breath.

he slaps your pussy and you moan, arching your back and grinding back onto him.

"louder."

"you!" you desperately grind on his hand, only for a bit of friction.

"that's right." he snuggles into your shoulder, hand still on your neck as the other teases your entrance. "good girl."

your hands are clutching onto the arm rest for dear life, growing weak. your schest in heaving, and you might explode from all the hormones you're feeling right now.

Jungkook lets go of you, and you hear sounds of clothes shuffling which makes you look over your shoulder to meet his eyes just as he's unbuckling his belt, shirt off, chains on.

you're salivating.

"like what you see?"

he knows he's hot. smug bastard.

you only spread your legs wider as a response, putting your wet entrance on full display only for him to see.

you see him curse under his breath before he crosses the distance between you in a few strides, grabbing you by the neck to kiss you.

his tongue delves into your mouth, roaming, exploring, and dominating all it wants.

again, not that you mind.

seeing no reason in dragging this out any longer, the head of jungkook's cock nudges against your entrance, having you weak at the knees.

you moan into his mouth and he smiles into the kiss, always loving how responsive you are to his actions.

he pins one of his hands down on your hips, keeping you in place as he holds his cock with the other.

he guides it to your pussy, gliding it up and down your slick, causing your knees to waves everytime he nudges it with your clit.

"you ready for me?"

"please." is not even a coherent answer to his question, and he knows that because he chuckles at your neediness.

it started out with him convincing you to fuck him because of his neediness, and here you are now, begging for his cock.

he enters you with just the tip, testing the waters at first.

this isnt the first time you've had sex with jungkook. it's just that he needs to give you time every time because you just never got used to his size.

hes just so fucking big.

he enters you with another inch, then one after another until he bottoms out.

he groans at your warmth and your mouth hangs open at both the sound and the stretch.

"so fucking tight. all for me."

"all for you." you dont recognize your voice. all out of breath and high pitched, but jungkook loves it. he loves to hear you moan and writhe beneath him.

he stays there for a couple of seconds, letting you accommodate to his length.

he leans forward to take your tits in his hand, rolling the pebbled peaks between his thumb and index which makes your breath hitch. he toys with your breasts, kissing your shoulder from behind as he begins to move.

"mmm, fuck." is all he says before he moves his hips, gently. he knows when to be rough when it comes to sex, which causes him to speed up when all you do is breathe loudly.

it's like he has it as his mission to make you moan for him. for his ego.

and you do, because one minute, jungkook is being all lovey-dovey and slow with you, and the other, his hips are snapping into your at an incredibly high speed.

he leans back and grabs you by the hips, only to ball your hair into his fist and tug on it harshly. your hands are back on the armrest, desperately holding on.

he's fucking you relentlessly, groaning deeply at your tightness when you clench harder around him.

his groans are answered with high moans and pleas, and Jungkook speaks, his voice so full of restraint.

"look in front of you, y/n." and that's when you realize that you can see your reflection in the window.

you can see how Jungkook is manhandling you and take you from behind, and that does nothing but push you even closer to your climax.

"Jungkook!"

"can you see it?" he rasps out breathlessly. "can you see how well you take my cock, baby?"

"fuck!" there goes the second orgasm.

"cum for me." it barrels down on you and weighs you down even more than the first, tiring you out.

Jungkook's hand leaves your hair and grabs you by the neck, pulling you even more back to him and arching your back.

that position is the only thing keeping you from slumping forward and face planting onto the couch.

Jungkook thrusts just once, causing you to whimper out of overstimulation.

"i cant. i'm sorry, Jungkook. maybe you can fuck my mouth instead-"

"you did well."

"huh?"

"but you can do better."

hell no you cant-

he rubs your clit, still buried ball's deep inside of you.

the clit stimulation makes you relax a little bit, and maybe you can try.

"okay." you muster out a small confirmation which he gladly takes, except this time, he's anything but gentle.

Jungkook goes faster than he did before, ramming into you from behind but still rubbing your clit.

he squeezes your throat and leaves you little to no space to breathe, then loosens his hold after a couple of seconds.

he fucks you so hard you see stars, sounds of skin slapping against each other filling the room. his balls slap against your pussy, and it just feels divine.

your ass must be red by now, and you just cant breathe.

and then, you're hit with a sensation like never before. you cant see, cant breathe, cant hear, cant speak. a throaty scream snatches out of your throat and this orgasm is like none of the ones you've experienced before.

"you can take it." fuck fuck fuck fuck.

"fuck, kook!"

"yeah, baby? you like the way i fuck you so hard you forget your name?"

"thank you, thank you, thank you-" you're screaming, helpless. he's rubbing your clit, fucking you animalistically, tugging on your hair, and you can see it all in the reflection. you can feel his love for you.

the overstimulation doesnt make you uncomfortable, it makes you breathless.

he slaps your ass and smiles at the handprint.

shortly after, Jungkook curses under his breath and cums, "take it all." he thrusts into you through his orgasm, and when he's done, he pulls out and admires the masterpiece he created.

his cum mixed with yours oozes out of your pussy, and he plays with it, getting the mess all over his fingers.

you turn around just in time to see him suck his fingers clean, maintaining eye contact as he moans in satisfaction.

instead of feeling embarrassed, you step closer to him and kiss him. you both smile into it as you can taste yourself and him on his tongue, which feels amazing.

it feels euphoric.

you pull away, slightly cringing at the slick wetness you feel all over your thighs, which makes you confused.

"did i pee or something?" you say, perplexed, as you look at jungkook, which snorts in response.

"no, baby, you squirted." he gestures to his own lower abdomen, signaling the mess you made all over him. "you did it all over me, too. it was hot as hell."

you've never squirted before.

thats enough proof that he really did go all out this time.

wow.

when you look to the ground, seemingly embarrassed about it, he hooks his finger under your chin and makes you look up to meet his eyes.

"nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart." his eyes alone speak volumes. the man loves you more than himself.

"just proof that i fucked you well." he wiggles his brows, making you laugh.

you hug him in response, but then you remember...

"oh my god! the girls! i totally forgot!" you go to take a step forward, but wobble and almost fall instead.

jungkook immediately grabs you by the waist, stablizing you and pulling you to him.

"easy there, you're gonna hurt yourself." he says smugly, knowing he's the reason that's got you so sore.

"i should probably call them and make sure-"

"i already texted yejun saying you had a fever and cant get up from bed." he says a little too quickly.

he did what?

"you did what?!" youre so puzzled right now. "but why?"

"do you think i'm gonna leave you here after literally ruining you just to hangout with my mates?" he raises his brows, a frown tugging them together when he pins you down with a hard stare.

"plus, you need to shower, and you cant do that alone-" he smiles, his bunny teeth showing. "you need me to help." he wiggles his brows yet again, and you catch onto the implication a little too quickly.

there's no way you're surviving a second round in the shower...

right?!

what do yall think for a first time?

@hoseokteardrop @nochuel @kaitieskidmore97 @nays2112 @jksoftii @yu-justme @meadow-in-spring @bunnykoos @looneybleus @fushigurosdarling @alpha-mommy69 @junecat18 @xjiminsthighsx @tanniesdolls @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @whoa-jo @ahgasegotarmy116 @jksusawife @frgetmenotz @baechugff @partyparty-yah @army130613210521 @drugerlime @allisonstone @hopekive @llallaaa @tarahardcore @hopetookmysoul @betysotelo18 @harmonic55 @ecrvea @awesomebabyyoda @peterstarkchrishiddleston @pinkrockstar19 @sweetestseoul @luv--youu @mochminnie @coletaehyung @whitelies2248-blog @ash07128 @bangtans-momma

#smut #jungkook jeon #jungkook ff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jeon jk #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook oneshot #jungkook smut oneshot #haya's random thoughts

[shmpxx]

HE’S NOT MY BOYFRIEND — y.o

⛤ yuuta okkostu x fem! reader

How else would yuuta react if you denied your relationship in front of everyone? You obviously weren’t gonna be let off easy.

cw. smut. (kinda) exes to lovers-ish. thigh riding. semi-public sex. library sex. dry humping. oral (f. receiving). groping. marking. pet names (princess). face grabbing. slight manhandling. +18!

wc: 1.1k

a/n: yall i got a full time job and I’m doing school and i really want to post my fics more bc i love sharing my writing and hopefully this doesn’t sound rushed lol.

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

You practically had to shout it out loud for it to be known. How many times did you have to say it to get through Maki’s skull as she was constantly teasing you about how you and Yuuta used to act like two middle schoolers in love, laughing about it in front of everyone.

You wanted to craddle yourself into a ball hearing it all made you remember the soft moments you had together and then made you cringe about it in every being of your body.

You held hands and tried to catch the perfect moment to kiss but was too anxious to, spent everyday together before he left, he promised to send a call, text or at least email and now he’s back, decides to act all cool, his attitude changes only slightly like he’s all that now, he had fixed his hair to side and his demeanor turns cold. Everything about him and his current presence ticked you off. He didn’t have to stay. You wished he’d go back.

Did you really wish that? Or did you need him to trap you in the darkest aisle of a library where he caught you. Whispering in your ear to take all those awful words you said back while he’s pinning you against the tall shelf, his pelvis is rocking against yours, his lips ambushing your neck. He’s just kissing you and touching you all over, making sure you don’t escape him either. He’s squeezing your tits a bit too hard, leaving too many hickeys.

“Can we just take a moment—“

“Why should we?” his hot breath hitting the shell of your ear, traveling down your jawline. His hand squishing the sides of your cheeks to turn your head to the side to gain access to your neck. You could feel his wet muscle and his warm lips glide over your skin, his hand on the back of your ass, squeezing it and also pulling you more into him.

The slight change in yuuta was quite scary, he wasn’t as soft as he used to be. He’s leaving marks and his hips are moving recklessly. He knows it will be so much better if he could take your clothes off and be bare already to fuck you like he is your boyfriend, you’re all his.

He guides his leg between your legs under your skirt, his thigh grazing your covered cunt and his hands situated on your hips to rock you against his thigh.

“Didn’t you think it hurt my feelings when you said that in front of everyone?”

You couldn’t look him in the eyes knowing his eyes bore into you, he was looking for an apologetic look from you but you were too distracted by looking down watching as he was driving your hips to desperately drag on his thigh. He was pressing his leg harder into you making you finally let out out moan. The shame you felt when you realized you were in a public place making such noise.

“I was just telling the truth..hah…” your tone with half of regret and moans by yuuta forcing your hips to grind on him, your clit throbbing from the harsh friction and you’re already leaving a damp on his leg.

The way your words were set in annoyance and anger like you truly disregard the fact that you and yuuta never had a thing going on and this frustrates yuuta when he replays how you yelled that he wasn’t your boyfriend.

“I am your boyfriend, i just wanna make sure you don’t forget that princess” He pulls down your bottoms and he’s on his knees with his hands on the sides of your thighs like he’s kneeling to an angel which you were to him and you never thought so with all the built of negativity you had towards him.

“Alright i get it—“

He doesn’t think you do, he wants you to understand that you were his and he was yours. Why would he stop here? He’s already pulling down your underwear and your anxiety strikes at you when he gives your pussy a gentle kiss and you gave out a yelp, you kept your eye down the aisle to see if people would pass by. Your hand is slightly hovering over your mouth, so you’re still emitting small moans.

“C-come on yuuta—quit it already..ah!” You would rather move somewhere with more privacy though yuuta doesn’t care a place, he was too busy making out with your cunt now, his tongue flicked and sucked on your clit.

And it was not enough for him he had to prop your legs on his shoulders that your back pressed against the shelf of books more and you gasp by the sudden feeling of being weightless with your feet off the ground and yuuta buries his lips, his tongue to eat you out.

You cursed under your breath not knowing where to put your hands, you wanted to support yourself to not fall though yuuta would never let that happen and yet also drown in bliss with your hands gripping his black locks. the anxiousness and the pleasure clouding your mind at the same time.

Your trying your best to keep it down and your constant repeated pleas. Yuuta was lapping his tongue from the outside of your walls to your clit and something ignited deep in the pits of your stomach that just made you push your hips further into his face. It doesn’t seem like he was gonna stop anytime, he was so focused his eyes were shut thinking about how good you taste and how he had never got the chance before. he can tell that your twitching to cum soon and your sobs getting a little louder.

“Gonna cum! Gonna cum! Gonna cum!” You squealed, your legs wrapped around the back of his neck and your heels digged into his back, your spine arching off of the shelf and your eyelids flutter.

“Cum on my mouth princess, I’m all yours…” the way his voice melted your heart all over again, causing butterflies to fly in your tummy, made your orgasm come faster but also made you feel shamed and entirely hate it for feeling this way.

The moan of his name being let out so indecently that people might hear or probably did. Feeling the waves of you cumming flow through your body and his mouth hasn’t yet disconnected from you.

Yuuta looks up at you like this was just the beginning. You’re forced to wrap your arms around his neck when his hands comes under behind your knees, you still had no chance of keeping your feet on the floor. He’s already planning to fuck you with the zip of his pants and his cock freeing out, make you cry out a million times repeatedly that your his and he’s yours.

Now you’re gonna have to take everything you said back.

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk yuta #jjk yuuta #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuuta okkotsu smut #yuuta smut #yuta okkotsu smut #yuta x y/n #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta x reader #yuta smut #yuuta x reader #yuta okkotsu

[eddiesxangel]

If you ever felt like it, would you be cool writing reader and Eddie; their best friends and they both perv for each other but never show it and she was invited to DND and she needs to rush to the bathroom to literally rub one out and Eddie silently makes his way to see what you’re up to

Just Friends |Perv!EddieMunsonX Perv!bestie reader

AN: I made it modern just to make it more pervy! hope you enjoy :) ps. If you see any typos no you didn’t 🤫

WC: 3.2k

It’s been almost a year since you and Eddie became friends, you’ve been inseparable since. You and Eddie first met when you were sleeping over at Nancy’s and Eddie was over for a DND session. You had literally run into Eddie, you smacked your face into his chest as you rounded the corner, in your pyjamas no less. You gave an awkward giggle and introduced yourself. You didn’t really recognize him, your lunch periods weren’t the same and he wasn’t in any of your classes. But fate swooped in, and due to that fated night everything changed. 

Eddie was struck by you the second you crashed into his chest. He had seen you occasionally with Nancy in the halls but never could come up with a good excuse to approach you. He thought you were cute, like really fucking cute. So cute to the point that when you did actually touch him (by accident) he popped a boner the second your sparkling eyes looked into his for the first time. Lame, he knows. He couldn’t believe you had this visceral reaction over his body, but all he could think about was your lips, how they moved when you spoke his name and how you smiled at him. Eddie was absolutely screwed, and he had to do something about it he just didn’t know how. So when you finally approached him at Mike’s one day he seized his one opportunity. Turns out you were really fucking cool, on top of being really fucking cute. 

Eddie wanted to spend the most amount of time with you that he could. He was always asking to hang out one on one. His favourite would be when you would ask him over to your house. He loved being able to have access to all things you. The first time he was invited over he couldn’t believe his luck. In the midst of your hang out, you had to take a phone call in the hallway and you left him alone in your room. Eddie felt like a creep the first time but he had to know. He found your underwear drawer, it was filled with soft cotton and lace. His eyes almost popped out of his head when his hands found your red lacy thong. Pocketing it and slamming your drawer ship when he heard you giggle goodbye. 

The second time Eddie was left in your room you told him you were going to take a quick shower, leaving him to his own devices for a least ten minutes, he saw your book on your nightstand, it had a cutesy little cartoon cover, very girly, he was planning on mocking you when you got back in because who reads romance novels? He opened up to where your bookmark was, and his eyes bulged open when he saw what exactly it was you were reading

His strong hands gripped my bare hips as he pinned me down to the bed. His fingers travelled down to my soaked pussy, slowly and agonizingly circling my sensitive clit. I begged for more but he only laughed, "Only good girls get what they want" he whispered and I ground my hips up into him the best I could, but his hold was too much. "Please' I begged. "Please Sir I will do anything, I want your cock so bad, I promise I'll be a good girl." I cried. He was torturing me...

Eddie could not believe his eyes, he had no idea you were so dirty. His best friend had another side to her that he had yet to see, that he would literally sell his soul to see. Oh to hear you say those dirty words to him that he had just read. He popped a boner just thinking about it. He hadn't time to fix it so he grabbed your cow squishmallow to put on his lap when you re-entered the room in nothing but your pink bath towel. You were literally going to be the death of him. 

You loved when Eddie would come over, but you also loved being in Eddie’s space. Being consumed by all things Eddie, the decor, the smell, the comfort of being surrounded by him. Eddie let you into his home anytime and all the time, it didn’t matter if he wasn’t home yet, you knew where the spare key was, he texted you he would be home in 40 minutes so you let yourself in and hung out until he got back. 

You walked into Eddie’s room and the urge to snoop was growing. You didn’t know what you were looking for until you found it. Stashed under his mess of clothing was Eddie's laptop. Your hands couldn’t move fast enough to the search history. Luckily for you, he was dumb enough to be logged into everything automatically. You didn’t care that this was wrong, yet you wanted to know if he had been talking to anyone. You hadn’t seen him romantically attached to anyone in the almost year you’ve been just friends. You're sure he would tell you. However, the jealousy gremlin was nipping at your ear; telling you to keep going. 

After being unsuccessful at finding any dirt you continued through the search of his laptop and found a particularly interesting bookmark. You knew this was so wrong and he probably would never forgive you if he found out but you had to know what Eddie was into. 

You clicked on the link and a porn website opened. The video was of a woman solo touching herself, and using very racy language about what she would do to the watcher. It was much different than what you consumed when you were to indulge yourself, but it was starting to turn you on as you examined the naked woman spread out in front of you. Thinking about Eddie and what he would be doing while watching this…in this bed you were sitting on, naked, touching himself to her sexy words. You thought about how big he would be, how those delicious fingers would grip himself. You often found yourself dazing out while staring at his thick ring-clad fingers. Especially when he would practice guitar, and how quickly he could move them without missing a note. Your mind drifted and you found yourself lying down in Eddie’s bed. 

Trailing your hands down underneath the waistband of your jeans, you brought a worn t-shirt that was thrown on the bed up to your nose, it smelled so strongly of Eddie. Your fingers teased your clit edging yourself as you pretended they were your best friends. You thought of how it would be to have him on top of you, how it would feel to have his cock slip past your entrance. You hummed his name quietly over and over until the slam of the screen door made you jump and you snapped out of your bliss. You quickly exited the screen and slid the laptop under the pile of clothes that rested atop the bed before Eddie entered his room. 

A bright smile struck his face when he saw you there sitting in his bed. He was oblivious to what you had been doing seconds earlier. Eddie's mind spun with the scenarios he imagined the both of you in, preferably naked. He never divulged these fantasies, of course, he couldn’t have you finding out about what a perv he was for you, or else you would never let him near you again. 

Tonight Eddie invited you to watch in on Hellfire because you told him Nancy had a date and you had nothing to do this Friday night. You’d never attended before, you were always busy with Nancy. So when you showed up to game night you didn’t know what to expect. Eddie tried so many times to explain the game to you but you never really understood, there were too many rules and you’d always zone out as you watched his plump lips at work. Day dreaming of them on your lips, or on your neck, or on your pussy.

You walked up the the Wheeler household feeling a bit strange that you weren't here to see Nancy. You were let in by Mrs. Wheeler who was on her way out with Mr. Wheeler for a very rare date night.

"Hey guys" you greeted the group as you made your way down to the basement. 

“Hey, cutie" Eddie greeted back with the biggest smile on his face. 

It truly was a mystery to the others how the both of you weren't picking up one another's signals. You saw Mike roll his eyes after Eddie spoke but you took it like he didn't was his annoying sister's friend here to ruin their ritual. Little moments between you two were clear as day to any onlooker but to the both of you, you were oblivious. Too blind to see the signs because you’ve convinced yourselves that the other one would never share the same feelings. 

You had settled in sitting on the couch behind the DND table so you could give them space without crowding around. Eddie was directly facing you so you could see everything but still do your own thing.

As the night progressed you’d been so turned on by Eddie’s performance. The passion that filled him, the way he deepened his voice, the gaze in his eyes as he described the frightening scenes that played out for the club members. Everything that you lusted for from Eddie was heightened by 100 tonight. Eddie had such a hold over you that he didn't even know about. 

You crossed your legs trying to focus on the tiktoks you tried distracting yourself with however they were not helping because it had been a bunch of thirst traps and sexy excerpts from romance novels. Yes, you were on Booktok and no you were not ashamed of being an avid smut reader. 

Since the distractions were not working and the throbbing between your legs was becoming unbearable you needed to excuse yourself, and quickly. You barely mumbled that you needed the washroom before sprinting to the main floor to find some peace in the powder room. 

You shut the door so quickly you may have accidentally slammed it which altered Eddie's even more. He was worried about you. You'd been squirming on the couch looking very uncomfortable, and then you ran out of there like a bat out of hell. He knew he needed to see if you were okay, maybe you had gotten your period or something? 

Eddie walked up the steps and called out your name but there was no answer. As he rounded the corner he noticed the light coming from under the closed bathroom door. He walked closer and heard your muffled voice but couldn't make out the words. As he approached the door he almost knocked but froze halfway when he heard your voice loud and clear.

"Eddie please" you moaned. Eddie couldn't believe his ears because there was no way this was happening...until you did it again.

"Fuck me please, Eddie right there!" you gasped. Your clit had been throbbing the whole time you’d been downstairs you couldn’t help but relieve it. You were silently watching the secret video you had taken of Eddie while he was commanding the game. It has turned you on so much, and watching it back was even better. Eddie didn’t know what to do. But he had to think quickly because his time was limited. He hesitantly knocked on the door and cleared his throat before he spoke. “ uhhh are you alright right in there?” he stuttered out his words. The knock on the door scared you. You let out a small scream as you ripped your hands away from yourself and up to your chest feeling your heart pounding. How much had Eddie heard? How much does he know you don’t think you’re being that loud? Where are you? Oh shit, maybe you were? 

“Uhhh I’m-I’m fine Ed’s” you managed to stutter. Oh my god, you were mortified. The handle of the door giggled like Eddie was trying to come in. “Come on sweetheart open the door I really need to come in,” he continued on jiggling the door until you unlocked it. Eddie needed to seize this moment. He was never going to have another opportunity like this.

“Eddie I-” You didn’t finish your sentence because Eddie had cut you off with a kiss as he cupped your face while backing you into the opposite wall. “You’re such a little pervert. I know what you think about now when you want to touch yourself, do you think about me and what my fingers can do to you huh?” Eddie broke away from the kiss and started kissing down your neck. All of this was so sudden. You had no idea that this was going to happen when you had left the basement. “I’m not a pervert!” You defend yourself. “No baby? So if I took your hand and sniffed these fingers I wouldn’t smell your pussy all over them?” he cocked his brow. “And I didn’t hear you moan my name twice just now?” He hummed. You had never heard Eddie speak like this, not even in your wildest dreams did you think he had such a filthy mouth. “You want me, baby? I heard you and your dirty words through the door. Do you want Eddie to make you feel good? Can’t get off without me? That's it huh?” Eddie’s cockiness was only making you wetter. “Fuck Eddie I need you I have needed you for so long. Please touch me.” You gasped as his plump lips sucked the delicate skin of your neck.

“Could have just asked baby, I would give you the world” His hand grazed up your leg to the open zipper of your jeans until his calloused fingers found the waistband of your baby pink panties. Your breath hitched as he found his way into your pants, brushing over the short hair of your mound to your slick wet slit. “Oh oh oh baby,” he chuckled darkly “you’ve been hiding this from me? I don’t think you deserve me to touch you, you’ve been very naughty. Tell me, baby, you always get this wet for me? What other dirty things do you do when I’m not around?” Your mind was numb with pleasure as Eddie slowly made contact with your pussy lips. He was being so mean like he was punishing you, grazing everywhere but your clit. “Fuck. Eddie please” you beg girding your hips up into his fingers to get some relief.

“I don’t think so sweetheart” you’ve been a very bad girl. “Have I? You try to spit back. “I recall you stealing my favourite pair of panties. Don’t play innocent Munson. I found them in your room yesterday.” You chide.

Eddie kissed you to shut you up. His tongue pushed its way into your mouth as you moaned in pleasure. Your slippery slick coated Eddie’s fingers as they prodded their way up into your tight hole. “Oh, Eddie!” You sighed. “Fuck say my name again” he growled.

“Eddie!” You moaned throwing your head against the wall. His fingers were so thick. He really knows how to work his fingers. “That’s it scream my name” his cocky smirk hasn’t left his face. All disregarding everyone downstairs, you didn’t try and keep quiet. Eddie watched your chest heave as your breasts raised and fell. His free hand scaled up your shirt over your bra. His hands explored your breasts and he pulled down the cup to free you. His hands worked your nipple and your clit. The way his fingers felt exploring your body only made the feeling in your core build and build. Eddie dipped his head to take your perked nipple in his mouth. You arched your back into him and his warm tongue latched onto you. A soft “Eddie baby” slipped from your lips as you were washed away with the feeling of everything Eddie. You were getting so close so fast, you had already warmed yourself up and Eddie was here to take all of the credit. Not that you’re complaining but the coil in your core was being wound up so tightly you need for it to snap. “I'm so close! please don’t stop.” 

“Oh, so you are a good girl who knows her manners, go on then, on cum for me baby” 

Eddie kissed the sweet spot on your neck while playing with your nipple with one hand and your pussy with the other. Your senses were on overdrive and you were bumming from his words. Your body shook and your release dripped down Eddie’s fingers. A few seconds later after you come down from your high you realize that he was having all the fun and you haven’t touched him yet. You graze your hand down his stomach, to the button of his black jeans. You quickly moved your fingers to unbutton and unzip his pants. You slide down the bathroom wall and get on your knees in front of Eddie. He gathered your hair in his hands and you pulled out his cock. “You’re complaining about me hiding from you when you’ve been holding out on me this whole time?” You don't hesitate. You start making out with the base of his cock moving your way up to the tip. You coddle his balls in one hand and use the other to tease the tip of his red cock. “Fuck” Eddie sucks in a breath. You continue to worship his cock. How could you not? It was so pretty, long and thick, and slightly curved to the right. Hearing Eddie whimpering above you was music to your ears. You loved the feel of the weight of him on your tongue. You swirled your tongue on his tip taking in the taste of his precum before sliding down his length to the hilt. His pubs tickled your nose but you ignored that as you hummed onto his cock. You bobbed your head up and down. It was messy and it was loud. 

“Baby fuck fuck fuck if you keep going like that I’m-” Eddie couldn’t finish his sentence before he came down your throat. The hot thick liquid ran hot down your throat. “Shit I’m sorry I’m sorry” he panted as you continued to suck him dry. Humming in satisfaction. Eddie finally loosened the grip of your hair as you pulled back and opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue to show him you’d swallowed it all. Eddie’s eyes went wide, he hadn’t expected you to be so filthy, just for him. He pulled you back up by your hair to stick his tongue down your throat. A giggle left your mouth and he pulled away. 

“We are so doing that again” he breathed. 

A pounding on the bathroom door made you both jump. 

“We get it you guys are disgusting! Let's get back to the game please!” The sound of Lucas’s angry voice came from the other side of the door. You could practically hear his eye-roll. Eddie and you burst out laughing “Come on baby, the Dungeon Master needs to finish up and then I will be seeing you later for more” Eddie left you in the bathroom, flushed and more than satisfied. You couldn’t wait for him to finish that sexy little game. 

#Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x you #Eddie munson smut #perv!eddie munson #perv!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x best friend reader #eddie munson x perv!reader #requests #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson headcanons #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson concept #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie stranger things

[tohokuu]

boobs, boobs, boobs - tengen, kyojuro, akaza, aizetsu

tumblr is based off a system of reblogs. reblog my work.

word count : 1.5k

warnings : tiddy sucking, somnophilia in akaza's

a/n : first time writing for kny...

TENGEN

tengen’s mouth watered when he saw your perky nipples sticking past the thin white fabric of your shirt. it was colder during this time of the year, so he knew that your nipples poking through was inevitable. his main concern was how he could help in fixing that. 

he didn’t want you embarrassed, ya know? imagine sanemi or kyo drop by and get a chance to see your perky tits. he couldn’t have that. your tits belonged to him. they were cute and squishy and all he wanted to do in this moment was sit you down on his lap and suck your nipples until you pulled at his hair. 

wouldn’t that be flashy?.. he thought. 

you sighed as you wrapped tengens thin blanket around you. it didn’t make much of a difference, though. you were still shivering cold. he knew the only way to keep you warm was if you were laying flat against him (tit in his mouth). 

“baby, is it cold in here or just me?” tengen spurred on. you looked up eagerly, staring at him in shock. “are you not cold?” you asked him. he shook his head. 

“i’m not but i can tell that you are.” you saw tengen’s eyes dart directly down to your chest, raising a brow as he stared shamelessly. “hmm, have they always been this perky?” he asked you slapped his arm in embarrassment.. or at least tried to slap his arm. instead, he grabbed you by the bicep. pulling you down onto his lap. 

it was in mere seconds, he had the blanket draped around your shoulders and your chest exposed for him. he could see goosebumps rising on your skin, standing up to the sky as he undressed you in the bitter cold. “fuck.” tengen sighed as he stared at your chest. 

“the piercings are so flashy, honey.” he crooned. you blushed, looking away from his face. 

“can i warm you up?” 

-

KYOJURO

kyo was pretty uncaring when it came to how you dressed around the house. you usually lounged around in some loose pants and a short, cropped shirt of his. today was no different. you were cooking when he walked in the next morning, shirtless with only a pair of trousers on. he didn’t pay much attention to your chest until you turned around, handing him a cup of tea. 

“good morning, kyo!” you chirped, smile fresh on your face in the early morning glow. kyo smiled tenderly. “thank you, my angel.” you kissed his pec after, walking away. kyo didn’t know what it was, that got him thinking that morning, looking at your ass and raising a thick eyebrow. 

“mm tasty!” he said as he sipped on the honey and lemon flavored tea. joining you on the couch, he leaned over, laying his head on your chest. he snuggled his face into your chest, groaning and grunting softly as some of the sleep was still settled in his mind. his eyes fluttered open and closed softly as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

“mmm.” he whimpered, enjoying the scratch of your nails against his scalp. kyo got up, getting on top of you and surprising you with his sudden outburst. his eyes darted down to your nipples poking through the thin cropped shirt. “fuck.” he groaned. your eyes widened as he help himself balance on his forearms, caging you in between. 

suddenly his head was under the fabric of your shirt, his lips attached to your nipples. they were cold and hard, and in need of his mouth. his tongue swirled around your buds that were getting harder as he teased them. you gasped, moving up to discard of your shirt. 

“kyo!” you cried, wailing as he bit and sucked at the skin. “you think you can just walk around like this with your nipples pokin’ out and not expect me to say anything?” he growled. kyo sounded eager, not in his usual gentle and soft nature. 

“gonna make you cum from sucking your tits alone.” 

-

AKAZA

akaza walked into your bedroom at around 2 am. your window was open and you slept soundly in bed. he raised his eyebrow and sighed. 

how many times had he reminded you to lock your window at night… 

you never listened to him, always arguing with him and teasing him. he was never angered, though. he’d smile thinking about you as he worked throughout the day, following orders. you were his comfort space, the one he’d visit at night when he had nothing particular left to do. 

he walked into your bathroom like he owned the place, washing his face sighing while he ran a wet hand through his pink hair. 

things were calm and quiet. a part of him wished that in another life where things were easier, he could just do simple house chores with you. it wasn’t that simple, though. life was hard right now and he couldn’t take care of you the way he wished. he had to settle for this. 

coming in to your bedroom unannounced at night and snuggling with you while you slept. he listened to your soft snores and soft whimpers when you had a impactful dream. today was one of those nights. 

he knew you were having a wet dream when he began to smell the wetness from you. a scent of pheromones bursting into the air and clouding his judgement. he watched as your nipples got visibly harder through the thin camisole you wore. his mouth watered. 

you turned towards him in your sleep, whining and pulling him closer, grinding your cunt on his thigh. “fuck..” he whispered. 

“a-akaza..” you whined, half asleep. he felt his dick get hard, making his pants uncomfortable. he suddenly didn’t care anymore. you had given him permission to touch you in your sleep before but he never went through with it, feeling a tiny sense of shame to do that to you without your knowledge. 

but his judgement was clouded today. his day was rough and he couldn’t care less about morals right now. 

he lifted your shirt up, his chest rising faster and faster seeing you whine for him even in your sleep. a primal urge overtook him as he dove into your chest, mouth wrapped around your buds completely. 

he sucked and whined, two fingers dipping down the waistband of your sleep shorts and feeling the slick gathered in your panties. “you dirty, dirty girl..” he groaned. 

he couldn’t wait for you to wake up to the hickey’s on your chest tomorrow morning. 

- 

AIZETSU

aizetsu was always sad. his eyebrows furrowed in sadness and worry. his zipped up the black nike tech in the mirror, unable to waiver the solemn expression on his face. 

he figured coming to see you would maybe fix his mood just a bit. 

the knock on your door at 2 am was a surprise. you didn’t get a call or a confirmation that someone would be showing up to your door this late. you took extra caution checking the peephole. 

the rush in your throat went down when you saw that it was just your solemn boyfriend, dressed in his usual tech. you opened the door, head tilted to one side as you invited him in. 

“zetsu, what happened?” you questioned. your boyfriend was often sad. he was quiet and didn’t speak much to others unless he had something significant to say. 

“nothing. i just missed you.” he softly spoke, staring down at the ground. your own eyebrows furrowed as you pushed him deeper into your apartment. 

“do you wanna cuddle with me?” you asked. 

he looked around nervously before nodding. you laid in bed, urging him to remove the hoodie he wore and just lay in his t-shirt. 

his strong arms wrapped around your body, pulling you in. aizetsu pushed his face into your chest, hoping he’d feel better. 

your fingers went straight to his dark locks, tugging at the strands softly. “what happened today, angel?” you asked. 

“sekido was making fun of me today.” he whined. his lips pouted, eyelashes fluttering to keep away a glimmering sheen of tears. “ ‘m sorry, zetsu. don’t listen to anything he says. he’s a dickhead.” you told your boyfriend. 

“can i suck your tiddies?” 

your mind felt like it broke. 

“w-what?” you asked. your boyfriend looked up at you, his eyes widened and brows furrowed as if he was ready to beg. 

“y-you heard me.” he whispered. you were right. you had heard his random and bizarre request. he had never asked before. in fact, you two hadn’t even done anything significant yet. 

“sure.” 

and suddenly your shirt was torn off of you, flung into a separate corner of the room. your boyfriends personality always made you forget how brawny and muscular he was. his body didn’t match his soft facial expressions and you could hardly recover from the whiplash you had received. 

aizetsu’s arms were wrapped around your waist and upper back, pushing your body into his face. he sucked your nipples harshly, no care in the world that it might have been hurting you or not. 

he licked and tenderly bit the skin, looking up at you with his brows this time pushed together to focus on the task. 

he planned on sucking your tits into making himself happy. 

taglist form

©️ tohokuu. do not steal or plagiarize.

leave a comment and/or reblog pls !

#demon slayer smut #akaza smut #tengen smut #rengoku smut #aizetsu smut #akaza x reader #tengen x reader #rengoku x reader #aizetsu x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny smut #kny x reader #kny fanfic #smut headcanons #demon slayer headcanons #akaza headcanons #tengen headcanons #rengoku headcanons #aizetsu headcanons

[straykeedz]

RIDING MEAN DOM SEUNGMIN PLEASEPLLEAS PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE IM BEGGING DACRYPHILLIA TOO OH I FEEL LIKE IM GOING TO GO FERAL

no ‘cause how did u know seungmin’s been wrecking me lately!!!! honestly i don’t think i’m good at writing dom!skz but i hope you enjoy this anyway!!! 🤧🩷

tw: afab!reader ; dom!seungmin ; seungmin’s dick is big ‘cause i said so ; he slaps reader’s ass a few times ; he calls reader a brat and the word slut is used a few times but they love each other very much i promise ; dacryphilia if you squint ; ♡

wc: less than 1k ; ♡

smut! minors dni. 18+ only.

seungmin watches closely as you sink down onto his length.

he’s got one hand tucked under his neck in a cocky pose, the other on your hip, eyes fixed on your face not to miss a single reaction of yours as his cock fills you up slowly inch by inch. he’s big and hard and the initial stretch is kinda painful, but you like it that way. a cocky smirk appears on his stupidly handsome face when you finally take all of him inside of you and a huff leaves your mouth.

“’s big, yeah?” his question is rhetoric, he knows it well.

you nod, eyes glistening a bit due to the slight burning sensation between your legs. seungmin is quick to react, his hand leaves your hip, and he taps your mouth with his pointer and middle finger. you open your mouth, wetting seungmin’s fingers with your own spit. after making sure they’re wet enough, he pulls them out and places them on your clit, touching you to get you to relax around him. it works.

“’s big, but you’re gonna take it like the brat you are, yeah?” you hum in agreement, but it’s not enough anymore. seungmin stops stimulating your clit, and before you know it, he lands a slap on your asscheek. you let out an obnoxious moan and your walls clench around his cock, squeezing it tighter - it catches seungmin by surprise, too. “words.”

“y-yeah. ‘m gonna take it. ‘m gon’ ride your big cock,” you bite on your lip, lifting your hips and finally starting to move up and down his length.

your legs give in, like, after a couple of minutes maybe, and seungmin notices the way your movements are slowing down. another slap on your ass that makes you whimper. “i can’t believe you’re tired already.”

“‘m sorry, minnie,” you halt your movements, resting your hands on his chest.

seungmin chuckles, shaking his head disappointedly. “ah, i spoiled you too much, didn’t i? made you a pillow princess,” he grabs your hip, looks you in the eye, “you want me to take control and fuck you, yeah?”

you nod. “please. please, minnie-“ you beg with tears in your eyes.

“not tonight. not now, at least,” he chuckles, squeezing your hip. he grunts when he sees your lips quiver and your teary eyes. “the things you do to me, fuck…”

“please. i’ll be your good gi- i’ll be your good slut. please, please fuck me,” you try to convince him.

you’re sitting on top of him. his cock fully sheathed inside of you, its leaking tip practically kissing your cervix and you’re begging him to fuck you. he could switch positions in the blink of an eye if he wanted to. if. wrap his delicious arm around your waist and flip you onto the bed, on your back, your legs spread to accommodate him, and he could fuck you mercilessly then and there. the thought is tempting, he has to admit.

“let’s make a deal, yeah?” he knows he’s got your attention now. “you ride me nice and good until you make your slutty pussy cum around my cock and then i’m gonna fuck you. in your favorite position, yeah?”

you shake your head as a no. seungmin raises his eyebrows, genuinely surprised by your rejection, but before he could open his mouth to speak - “i want’ you to fuck me in your favorite position.”

seungmin’s eyes roll in the back of his skull. you feel him twitch inside of you and maybe getting a little bit harder. “you want that? you want me to fuck you like that? ass up, face down?”

you nod, biting your lip. seungmin swears under his breath.

“you’re gonna be the death of me,” seungmin sighs. “c’mon, fuck me. make yourself cum on my cock,” he grabs and squeezes your asscheek.

“min… feels big, min-“ you choke on your own moans, tears in your eyes as you fuck yourself on his cock. “i think i might-“

he smirks. “you think you might cum?” he mocks your tone. “already?”

“miiin…” you whine at his teasing.

“ah, you just love this cock, don’t you, brat?”

you sniffle, then nod, riding him just a little bit faster. you feel sore already. “i do. feels good. feels so good inside of me,” you pant. “‘m close, min, ‘m so close.”

“cum on this fat cock,” seungmin grunts, feeling your tight pussy squeezing him even tighter. “fuckin’ soak it, brat.”

“‘m cumming, ‘m-“

seungmin watches in awe the way your lips part as your body trembles and shakes before you collapse on top of him, resting your head on his chest, completely spent. he rolls his eyes, pretending to be annoyed.

“ah, you’re such a brat. making me do all the work every time,” he taps on your asscheek a couple of times, “c’mon. ass up, face down you brat. we had a deal, remember?”

and don’t think he doesn’t notice the smirk on your face. that’s how he knows this was your plan all along.

-> if you read this and you liked it, consider reblogging. it’s cool and it lets me know you actually enjoyed reading my work! ♡

#seungmin smut #kim seungmin smut #kim seungmin hard thoughts #kim seungmin hard hours #seungmin hard thoughts #seungmin hard hours #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #kim seungmin x reader smut #seungmin x reader smut #kim seungmin fanfic #seungmin fanfic

[justwonder113]

Sharing a bed with Channie

Lee Know ; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;

My Masterlist

Summary: Chan is your rock, your guide your everything. He was also the the only person you could go to when you couldn't sleep. Warning: CURSING- I literally have no shame; GN reader, reader can't sleep. I Know I said it would be like one bed trope series but I feel like it isn't fully it? Like they lay in one bed for 5 minutes before point is shifted? Playful banter between friednds, Chan and reader are best friends and roommates. fluff, friends to lovers. Not proofread. Mention of burying yourself alive? A/N- I know I announced that I would write this eons ago but it took me more time thatn I thought it would. I had a clear vision but while writing this I changed everything like at least 5 times. I really hope you'll like it. Thank you for all the love and support you have given me. It means the world to me. Please share your thoughts with me and reblog. Also if you have any type of request please I'll be more than glad to write it. Word count-

You were going to do this! You were not going to back down. You were not a coward! What could happen? The worst thing he could say was no. Big thing! You knew how to take no as an answer... No you didn't.. You would most probably die of shame if he said no. He wouldn't right? No, he is much too kind to deny you of such simple thing. But what if you made him feel uncomfortable? You would rather chew off your own foot than make him do something that makes him uncomfortable or make him uncomfortable yourself. He would tell you if he didn't want it right? You were friends. Quite close ones too. God you were friends! Of course he would find it weird that you wanted to sleep in the same bed. You had nothing explisit in mind tho. You just wanted to sleep next to him. You had trouble sleeping these days and it was starting to affect your everyday life, You were more groggy, more irritable, your head was in the clouds and you couldn't fully concentrate on anything. You tried everything to fix your sleeping schedule but nothing really worked. To say that you were despterate would be an understatement.

For the past 2 weeks the only time you slept peacefully and didn't wake up feeling like shit was when you and Chan fell asleep watching tv. It was the best sleep you had in a while, you woke up feeling like a new person. You were hopeful that you wouldn't experience trouble sleeping like that ever again but sadly nothing had really changed.

You couldn't help but sigh when you saw that it was almost 3 am. You had to get up early too and you had to be on top too. You were going to do it!

You got up from the bed, but before leaving the room you turned back and headed to the mirror. After making sure you were decent at least fifteen times you finally left the room. If it was any other of your friends you wouldn't even thing twice before heading to them, but this was Channie, your channie, the guy you had been hopelessly in love with since forever, but also a guy who only saw you as a friend.

You've read countless times that whenever a person came to their crush with the excuse that they couldn't sleep and/ or had a nightmare(in your case both) their crush always welcomed them with open arms. And they always ended up together after sharing a bed. If there was a fanfiction god you prayed things would go well or you would bury yourself alive and at least that would solve your sleep issues.

You were surprised to see that the lights in his room were on. Was he still working? You had to scold him later, he promised that he wouldn't work until late and would actually try and sleep.

You softly knocked on the door, but there was no answer. After a few seconds you knocked again, but also no answer. Maybe he fell asleep you thought. Feeling bad waking him up you felt bad you turned back to return to your room.

To say that you almost had a heart attack when you saw a dark figure looming behind you would be a severe understantment. You even fell back on your butt. Chan's gasp of your name made you realize it was him, he even tried to catch you but couldn't hold onto you on time.

"Oh my god are you okay?" Chan crouched down next to you, he held your face and carefully examined you while you tried to catch your breathe.

"I think I saw god for a second." You gasped out after a few seconds of gasping dramatically. Chan rolled his eyes at you before asking "What were you doing in front of my room?"

You stumbled for a second trying to find a perfect answer. While staring into his eyes all your courage from earlier had disappeared, you felt embarrassed about what you wanted to ask him. Also the fact that he was only in his pyjama pants didn't help at all. Like you also needed to be distracted by his Greek God body! "I wanted to get water and saw that the lights in your room were on." You couldn't be more obvious you were lying but you still hoped he wouldn't pry. Chan looked at you sternly before sighing. "You couldn't sleep?" You wanted to deny but the way Chan was looking at you, you couldn't lie. You could only nod, feeling disappointed in yourself. Chan looked at you for a second before grabbing your hand and leading you into his bedroom.

"What are you doing?" You couldn't help but ask, when he literally just casually picked you up and put you in the middle of the bed like a pretty decoration on top of a cake. He only told you to stay put and then left the room. You were baffled. You stayed put and only waited for him who quickly returned couple of minutes later with your pillow and the plushie he won for you when you were at the arcade. He instructed to you to get comfortable under the covers and then left again. He took a bit longer this time, but in a minute or two he was back with the cup of tea. Literally how could you not love him? He was so sweet and gentle with you. He really was the most beautiful person to walk this earth both body and soul. You were so touched by this that you forgot all your bashfullness? You leaned in and kissed his cheek. And the bashful smile he gave you?! The butterflies in your stomach were having a french revoluiton.

After you drank your tea, Chan took the glass from you and put it on his nightstang. "Are you comfortable like this? I can go back in my room." You couldn't help but ask. You felt shy laying on his bed next to him. Chan rolled his eyes and got under the cover. You two were so close you could feel his body heat without even touching him.

"I was the one who bought you here so stop overthinking and go to sleep!" Chan grumbled before wrapping his hand around your waist and bringing you closer to his body. You were chest to chest now and your heart was beating so strongly you were worried he would feel it. You looked up at him with wide eyes. "Christopher Bang Chan! What is this behaviour? What did you do to my shy best friend?" Chan smiled, "when was I ever shy?" Now it was your turn to smile mischeviously, "you're right you always were a little shit." Chan pinched your side making you yelp, you couldn't help but laugh at his distaste. "You're a menace." His voice was low, making you shiver. "Learned it from the best." You quipped quickly.

"Brat."

"You love me."

Chan waited for a second before leaning in and kissing the tip of your nose before muttering, "You're right, I do."

You started at him with wide eyes, unable to say anything. Your cheeks felt really hot. "What's with the heart fluttering shit you do? Be carefull Christopher or I might fall for you. What are you going to say about that?" Not going to lie you were dying inside wanting to know what would Chan say. Chan opened one eye to look at you and then closed it. You thought that he would ignore you, he cradled you closer to his body. Your face was against the crook of his neck. You felt like you could melt. You felt so warm and secure,the smell of his shower gel and the musky scent of his body really soothed you, you could even feel his carotid pulse. It was comforting his pulse was almost as fast as yours. Maybe you were deluding yourself but what if he felt the same?

The sound of Chans voice bought you down to reality." I would say it's about time, I've been flirting with you for ages!" What the actual fuck? You immediately jumped up and looked at Chan with the most shocked face ever. He's being doing what now?

"You've been flirting with me?" You needed him to say it again. You needed the clarification!

Chan opened his eyes and leaned up, you tried to read his expression but you got nothing. "Yes? Since forever? I'm surprised you hadn't realized."

"You like me?" You couldn't believe your ears.

"Yes? Why are you so shocked?" He sounded genuinely confused.

"Because I thought you only saw me as a friend and well you do have a flirty personality." -You tried to explain, Chris sighed and fully leaned up. He looked at you for a second before putting his hand on your neck and pulling you towards him. You thought he was going to kiss you and your heart basically did a backflip on top of running 500 kilometers per hour, but instead of kissing you on lips he softly kissed your forehead. When you opened your eyes whitch you hadn't even realized you had closed, you saw that he was looking and you with the softest gaze ever. You couldn't put it to words but it was type of expression that even if you didn't like him you would fall for him head over heels without a doubt.

"First of all you're literally the hottest person ever with even better personality. I would be a fool to not fall in love with you. So trust me my flirting was genuine. Now the second, you always flirted back, you weren't being genuine?" His question bought you aback and you started stammering for an answer but you stopped when you heard him chucke. "Okay okay I'm just teasing. I know you were being sincere. And I'm also aware you have a crush on me. It's cute actually. " His eyes twinkled with mischief as he teased you. You didn't know if you wanted to hit him or kiss him sensless.

"I hate you so much sometimes." You couldn't help but groan. You were feeling beyond embarrassed, both because you knew that he liked you back and because he had known you liked him. What an asshole why did it take him this long to say anything? Chan leaned in and placed another peck on your cheek, making you sigh quietly. "Your raging crush on me says otherwise."

"Oh shut up!" You did smack him on the arm this time. Chan's cuckle filled the room and you couldn't help but also laugh. You felt like a lovesick teenager but you didn't really mind it. Chan's one hand was still on your neck rubbing the thumb mindlessly along your skin, his warm hand not failing to send shiver aftee shiver down your spine, while his other hand was on your waist keeping you close to him. He acted like the thought for a second before muttering "Good idea." And leaning towards you, your lips so close they slightly grazed each other with each breath.

"Can I kiss you?" God were you dreaming? You even pinched yourself and you were awake! Fanfiction God really did exist apparently. You would have to thank them later.

Much to your dismay after kissing each other for so long that your lips were already starting to buzz Chan decieed to lean back. You chased after his lips, you didn't care that your lips were buzzing, you felt like you could kiss him until your lips fell off. You felt like you had been deprived of him all your life and you felt greedy now once you got the taste of him.

You nodded eagerly, making Chan's smile deepen. And he closed the distance. Chan, your lovely Channie, your best friend and closest companion, the guy you could trust with your life and your longtime crush was kissing you. And it felt beyond majestic. It was everything you had imagined and so much more! His lips were so soft, so warm and felt so nice against yours. Your whole body was like set ablaze and despite feeling so so many times today you felt like melting, like your bones were liquifying. Only he could make you feel that way. So confused and so hopelessly in love. You couldn't help but smile into the kiss, Chris mirrored it and soon you were full on chuckling between giving each other short pecks. You love how lighthearted and fun everything was with Chris but also very deep and meaningful and how he always made you feel so secure. Really, how could you not love him?

Chan smiled and gave you a short peck. Then he brought you closed to his body and hugged you. "I really like you, heck I might even love you, this might sound cheesy and I know your menace butt is going to tease me after this but be mine?"

What a dork. You hugged him closer and kissed his neck. "I think I also love you too. And I will tease you about it most definitely, but yes, I will be yours." Chan smiled with his pretty dimples fully on display, he kissed your forehead and then helped you get comfortable on his bed. You felt so calm and peaceful despite your heart still running like crazy, you could feel the sleep approaching. Oh yeah you had insomnia, how funny.

A/N- I really hope you liked it, I will fix mistakes later my eyes are burning at this point. Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading❤️

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz fluff #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #chan imagine #bang chan #bang chan drabbles #bang chan fanfic #bang chan fic #bang chan fluff #bang chan imagines #bang chan scenarios #bang chan stray kids #bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x you #chan #chan scenarios #chan skz #chan x reader #channie #skz bang chan #skz chan #stray kids bang chan #stray kids chan

[astonmartingf]

FALLING FOR YOU ; MV1

max verstappen x reader

. . . in his own little way, max finds the solutions to his problems not without a little help from his friends and ends up giving you the confession of a lifetime

amgf yeah... there's this, just fluff. i won't be as active this week because of exams and research but this is prime time of my impulsive ideas so either i can milk this opportunity to write every single day, or avoid this app for the remainder of the week. enjoy 👍

Max strives for stability. 

He enjoys the same routine that consists of jogging at eight am, early morning workout by nine am, brunch, a few rounds of sim racing, stopping by for a few phone calls and online meetings. If he isn’t expected to fly anywhere else he’d have his usual afternoon snack, play with his cats, more sim racing from six to eight pm, dinner with his team, reviewing data and notes, an hour for his own leisure— mostly sim racing, before heading to bed at one am.

Whatever happens in between is usually one of Lando’s plans in an attempt to spice things up in his life. Whether it’s going to the movies, buying ice cream at the convenience store down the street, or playing padel. Max is very much thankful for his friends.

Max also strives for the best.

He takes pride in his skills in racing and acknowledges his talent, and flaws. Honing them like a sharp knife through whetstones, he polishes himself and cuts through the defenses of the grid. He is a World Champion for a reason, and with a great car and team behind him, he knows they’ll get far. Max is very much thankful for the trust his team set upon him.

Max hates uncertainty. 

Well- hate is too strong of a word and dislike would be too weak for his opinions. 

Max despises uncertainty.

Especially when there’s you- the current root of all his “problems”. Despite his tendency to be blunt and straightforward statements, uncertainty always left a distasteful feeling in his mouth. 

Realizing that his wavering feelings for you have now shattered the routine he built to perfection. Long gone are sleeping on time and hello to staying up with you crowding his thoughts. Head full of the lingering scent of your perfume and the same voice playing in his head.

Max hated it. He despised how you orbit around his mind, bouncing through the walls of the gray matter inside his skull. He often catches himself smiling at the thought of you- before a bitter scowl fills his face and an incredulous and slightly constipated look pasted on his face.

But that was the least of his worries, such feelings could be fixed (a term he used to convince himself these are temporary). It’s not that Max doesn’t believe in relationships or think it’s nothing but a distraction, deep inside he’s aware that he craves affection. It’s the vague emotions clouding his heart making him think twice.

Then again, Max is thankful for his friends. 

“What did you say?” Lando squinted his eyes in the hopes to hear his words clearly. With a blank look- almost as if he put on a mask void of emotions Max spoke once more.

“Do I like YN?” 

The rest tilted their head to the side, in confusion. “D-did you perhaps ask us. . . if- if you like someone?” George, asked once more to make sure of his words, sighing in disbelief.

“It’s not just someone, it’s YN.” Max pushed the question once more and glanced at everyone on the table.

The silence was deafening. Max’ statement was too loud and too quiet at the same time, no one spoke and they left each other contemplating on the next words he will say.

“I need help. How do I know I like YN?” Collective gasps were heard throughout and one by one they slowly left the group of friends on the table leaving Max with Lando and George.

“How about we sleep over your question and. . .think— think about it you know?” Lando, the first to talk regarding the revelation that their stoic friend has now developed feelings for someone.

“Sleep? I hardly get any sleep these nights. I want to confirm my feelings now so I can finally sleep peacefully.” 

That’s when the pair noticed the bags under his eyes, mostly due to the lack of sleep like he said. Lando took a glance at George and started to talk telepathically at each other.

George sighs before pushing Max from his seat, “You see Max these feelings can’t be confirmed in a night, these requ-”

“It’s been weeks, George, I can’t lose sleep over such a trivial matter.” Max retorted with a firm stance using his lack of sleep as a front to confirm his feelings.

“Okay, first of all feelings are not a trivial matter. They are valid, and whatever is going on in your head about YN shouldn’t be taken lightly. Not because we’re curious but because we care about your emotional well being.” Lando spoke in a serious voice which only added on to Max’ confusion.

Feelings are not a big deal, at least not for him.

“And we're curious as to why you like YN.” George chimed as he followed the pair outside the room.

“Yes we’re curious but now how about I give you some romance books that you can study and read. Only you can confirm your feelings Max, let’s stop by my room and I’ll give you books you can read and next week- next week we’ll talk about this matter again.”

Lando now sounds like a mom scolding his child for misbehaving, dragging the latter to his room and sending him off with a tower of romance books.

Max is smart, he can understand such concepts by himself.

Feeling accomplished, Lando glanced at George smirking at him before walking away with Max to his apartment.

Max on the other hand went inside his room and began to bury himself in the books he brought along. “If I’m not sleeping at least I get my feelings in line.”

One chapter. And another turns to five and in the blink of an eye a week has passed. Max returned to his routine but instead of sleeping at one he pushed it to an even later hour to make time for reading which helped him sleep.

The first nights were hard, after finishing a chapter of the book he finds himself falling asleep and now you appear to become more vivid in his mind. Invading his dreams as romantic scenarios play on repeat while Max mindlessly sleeps which results in him waking up flustered and warm.

Passing by you on the paddock became frequent; it's as if the universe has its way to bring you together. Now everywhere Max looked there was you, in the corner of his sight you occupied a chunk of his thoughts and as much as he hated to admit he found himself anticipating your presence.

By the end of the week you managed to invade his thoughts and heart which only strengthened his theory and confirmed his feelings for you. With no time to waste, Max went to look for you. The second practice was over, he’s telling you what you’re doing to him.

With new found information from the team about your whereabouts, Max made his way to the hospitality locating where you’re assigned he opens the door abruptly to see you preparing food. You stand straight feeling the intimidating aura around him, you watch him exhale a sigh of relief before talking a large step in your direction. On instinct you back away giving him space, every step Max takes is a step backward from you.

Unknowingly your feet hit the corner of the marble countertop and like a cliché scene Max remembers from the books he’s been reading you stumble backwards.

Max is a racer for a reason, and with swift reflexes he managed to catch your fall and brought you up to your feet. “You should watch where you’re going. I don’t want you falling just like how I fell for you.”

Silence. Complete, utter silence from the both of you paired with the low buzz of the booming air conditioner right near you. You blink your eyes incredulously, “What?”

“I mean. . . I do want you to fall for me, it would be sad to find out that my feelings are one-sided. But I mean my words YN.”

You adjust your posture and back away. “What are the words Max? About me falling to the ground or you. . . you f- falling for me?” Your voice thins out at the end unsure of what you just heard.

“Both. I don’t want you to fall, it’s dangerous just like how you did to me. You enamored me with those charms, I just want to know how you did it.�� Max spoke with the most bored and plain looking face he could muster up. His palms were sweating inside his pockets in extreme nervousness.

“Is this- is this your confession perhaps?” You try to piece things together, like the subtle clues Lando and George have been leaving out of nowhere.

“Yes. This is my confession.” Max blurts out as sweat drips from the side of his forehead. And just as he was losing hope from this failed confession your bubbly laugh bursts the silence in the air.

“You know, you need to work on your confession more. That was unlike any other, but I understand what you mean. Do you want me to fall for you, Maxie?” 

Max stares at you and you don't miss the soft gaze he set upon you. You note the light blush spread around the apples of his cheeks as his eyes light up the moment you called his name. The once awkward silent air was now filled with a warm feeling that spread all over your body, leaving goosebumps all over your skin.

“I do. I fell for you, I like you, and I want to mean something to you.”

His way with words caught you off guard, Max Verstappen, who would’ve thought. You smile at him, this time it’s you walking towards his direction.

Max stiffened at the proximity between the two of you, his feet stuck to the floor preventing him from backing away. Your face gets closer to his and all the thoughts clouding his mind have been wiped away.

You face him and whisper something in his ear before walking away towards the kitchen at the back, legs shaking and breaths heavy. 

Taking a moment to himself Max meditates in an attempt to calm his bouncing heart, legs shaking as if they ran a hundred miles, and his mind whirring into different ideas and possibilities.

Max never falls- literally and figuratively.

Yet you managed to be the root of all his problems. The person who made him fall, there was no doubt that Max fell and will still be falling for you.

#f1 fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine

[d10nyx]

teachers pet

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+content, dub-con, pussy spanking, spanking, degradation, milddd brat taming, teacher x student relationships (age gap, but reader is in college), p in v, pull-out method, cum eating

a/n: i have been really struggling to write recently, so i hope you guys still like this :3 i um... hate it sorry it's not that good... writer's block is so shitty rn. feedback is appreciated !!

word count: 1.3k words

Leon finds you infuriating at the best of times. Sitting at the front of the lecture hall, giggling as you look at your phone. You never pay attention to his lectures - he doesn't understand why you even bother to show up.

You're not even subtle about ignoring him. The least you could do is try and hide in the back like the rest of his students who don't give a fuck.

To make matters worse, your grades are actually decent. Nothing to write home about, but you always turn his assignments in on time, and you've never failed to get a passing mark. If you failed, at least you'd flunk out of his class, and he wouldn't have to put up with your shit anymore.

It's like you want to get a rise out of him.

He's sick of it. He's sick of you. He retired and took on teaching college kids in the hopes he'd finally have some time to relax, but you seemed to enjoy making his life a living hell. He'd had enough of it. As you're packing up once he dismisses the class, he makes his way to your desk, his footsteps echoing across the lecture hall.

“Not you, miss. I need to have a word with you. Please come to my desk once you're packed up.” He tells you, tapping two fingers against your desk as he leans in to speak before he's returning to sit at the desk at the front of the hall.

You let out an exaggerated groan at his words, shoving your laptop into your backpack before begrudgingly making your way over to him. Your bag is slung over one shoulder, hanging precariously off to the side.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

“That's right.” He says with a slight nod of his head, gesturing for you to take the seat across from him. He leans back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other as he waits for you to sit.

“I'm going to be honest. You've gained my attention, however it's been for all the wrong reasons. You're smart enough. I'm sure if you applied yourself to this course, you'd get top marks. Is there something I can do to help? Is it a motivation issue? Something at home?”

“Well, if I'm being honest, sir. I thought when I chose this elective, it'd be more interesting. Your lectures are, like… seriously boring.” You say with a smirk that makes it clear you're just trying to frustrate him further.

“I'm seriously getting sick of your attitude.” He bites out, leaning forward against his desk. His eyes are narrowed and locked onto your own. “You can drop an elective. It will have no effect on your main course of study. Why are you still here?”

“It's fun to annoy you, sir.” Is your response, a shit-eating grin spreading across your face.

That's it. Leon is a patient man. He'd tried his best to help you. To figure out what the issue was so he could fix it. But you? Everything about you made him want to rip his hair out.

“Stand up.” He hisses, the feet of his chair screeching against the hardwood floor as he pushes it back suddenly before standing, stalking his way to your side of the desk. You don't stand, crossing your arms as you lean back in the chair.

“I said, stand up!” He repeats, gripping you by the arm and tugging you to your feet. He presses down harshly on your shoulders, forcing you to bend over his desk. “You want to act like an unruly child? Fine. I'll treat you like one.”

“You can not be serious.” You grit out, moving to straighten back up before your chest is forced against the surface of the desk once more with a strong hand pushing down on your back, right between your shoulder blades. “Jesus. I always knew you were a fucking freak.”

“This could all have been avoided if you weren't such a brat.” He hisses, raising your skirt to expose the curve of your ass. You hear him snort, bunching up the fabric of your panties and yanking them upwards harshly, making the fabric bunch up between your lips in a wedgie. It draws a whine from your lips, your brows furrowing as you drop your cheek against his desk.

“Fucking slut. Is that why you're acting up in my class, hmm? You want attention? Prancing around in those tiny skirts, skimpy panties like these underneath ‘em?” He lets go of your panties, sliding them down your thighs before smacking his flattened fingers repeatedly against your pussy until it runs hot, dripping all over his skin.

“Fuck… fuck off.” You say through gritted teeth, your mouth twitching downwards as he continues to spank your pussy. You bite down on your tongue, trying to prevent any noises from spilling past your lips.

He pinches your clit harshly between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a little yank. He grins at the sound of your whimper and the way you jerk away from him, letting out a low chuckle. “What was that, sweetheart?”

You hear the sound of a belt buckle and the shuffling of fabric, which is enough to send a shiver running down your spine. You swallow the lump in your throat, suddenly feeling your confidence drain from you. When you speak, your voice is almost a whisper. “Mr. Kennedy…”

“Oh? You finally learning to keep that mouth shut?” He grunts, running his tip teasingly up and down between your folds, letting his cock catch on your hole just to see you jump. “Trying to pretend you're not a filthy slut, but your cunt is crying for me...”

He presses forward with a low groan, burying himself to the hilt inside of you. His cock throbs as your walls tighten around him, his fingers digging painfully into the fat of your hips as he starts to fuck into you, his pelvis pummelling against your ass with every shift of his hips.

“Greedy.” He scolds, smacking your ass harshly, and once more just to hear the way you whimper when his hand connects with your flesh. “She's sucking me right in. Know this is what you've been wanting… shoulda asked, sweetheart. Pretty sluts like you always get what they want.”

“Perfect pussy… squeezing me so tight.” He groans, thrusting deeper into your cunt, pulling you back onto his cock and angling his hips so he's bumping against your sweet spot every time he bottoms out. He fucks you with deep, hard strokes, letting you feel the drag of every inch of his thick cock inside of you.

“Ah, that's right. Just need to fuck the brattiness out of you, hmm? Goooood fucking girl. Gonna… gonna make me cum.” He says through gritted teeth, slipping a hand down to circle a thumb around your clit. You babble helplessly as he touches you, nothing but ‘please’s and ‘sir's spilling past your lips. He almost cums inside of you when he feels your clenching around him as your orgasm hits, but he's not too pussydrunk to release how stupid it'd be to get his student knocked up, so he pulls out quickly and coats your ass in his cum.

“You gonna be a good girl for me now?” He asks, dropping to his knees behind you, his tongue darting out to lick his cum off of you. The sensation has you shivering, but you nod weakly at his question. He pulls your panties up, straightening out your skirt before patting your butt and going to sit at his desk once more, as if nothing's happened. “Good. That's good.”

“Come see me after class tomorrow, babe. Gotta make sure the lesson really sinks in.”

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

[softlyspector]

The second crow

Summary: There's not much in your tiny town, and Joel doesn't expect to stay long.

Pairing: coal miner!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: ~13.5k

Warnings: once again writing about grief, mentions of suicidal ideation, small town setting and drama, past death of a parent (reader), past death of a child (joel), avoidant reader, mentions of natural disaster, anxiety, brief smut, smoking, alcohol mention

A/N: She wrote another long ass fic! This took months to write and then collected dust in the drafts because I'm scared. This is the kind of thing I post and run away from because there is so much of myself in it. This is probably the most me you will ever get. Please allow me this little moment to be sappy about it in the author's note. I don't know if anyone even reads these but I'm going to shove my love in here anyway. This fic is very special to me for a lot of reasons. It deals with a lot of personal issues I've been grappling with, and it is very much a love letter to where I'm from. I hope you enjoy this fic, can find something in it to relate to, and can appreciate the little slice of idealized love for home I've indulged in here. Thank you for reading! And as always, I would love to hear any thoughts you have.

And, he will never, ever know it, but this fic is very much dedicated to my best friend, who was the first person to hang on and say I won't let you go this time.

The door clatters back in the wind; the glass rattles in the frame. Snow swirls into the front foyer before it slams shut again.

A man you don’t recognize steps through the archway, and into the front room. A layer of coal dust lays fine and thin over his coveralls, settled into the creases in his face. He carries a battered miner’s helmet, a duffle bag, a rifle, and nothing else.

“Hi,” you say, surprised from your place behind the kitchen counter, plucking down holiday decorations that had long overstayed their welcome. “Somethin’ I can help you with?” 

“Sure,” he nods and approaches, eyes flicking around the small front room, overcrowded with furniture that was in style thirty years ago, peeling patterned forest green wallpaper that you’d love to be able to replace one day, or at least fix up. 

You can’t be bothered to feel anything but curiosity. 

Strangers are a rare thing.

Rarer are strangers that come from so far away that they do not know not to come inside covered in coal dust and snow, before they have cleaned off. It sloughs off him in minute, shimmering waves, fine lines of black that sparkle in the white, winter light. 

Rivulets of sweat cut through the dust on his face and neck, and pools at the base of his throat. Snow melts in his hair and along the shoulders of his coat from the blizzard outside.

A chunk of ice falls off his boot with his final step toward you. You watch it slide across the floor and under the edge of a battered bookshelf. “I’m lookin’ for a room. Guy at the bar pointed me here.” 

His accent is a drawl and not a twang, the syllables of his words hang long in the air. Not quite southern. It takes you a long second to pin-point its origin. “Tell me, do they have coal mines in Texas?”

He blinks at you, fingers tightening on the rim of the hardhat in his hands. “Yes ma’am.” 

“And did you mine coal there?” 

“Can’t say I did.” 

“And you didn’t get much snow either, I take it?” 

He huffs out a surprised, exasperated chuckle. “Not like this.” 

“I figured so,” you smile. “With that way you’re trackin’ dust and ice across my floor. You’d know better than to come in the front door like that. Or at least to stomp off the snow a little.” 

The stranger looks back at the mess he tracked across the room and then turns back to you, looking sheepish, maybe a little horrified. “I apologize, I shoulda realized—”

“Don’t worry about it,” you shake your head. “It’s all right. But most folks along this street will feel the same, except the bar, so keep that in mind.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“A room you said?” 

He nods, then shakes his head. “Well, if I didn’t offend you too bad, that is.” 

“You didn’t. But you should know we got a miner’s shower in the basement.” 

He just nods again, glancing around the room. You didn’t think someone could get culture shock from your little town, but you think you see all the fixings of it on this stranger’s face. The coal dust and the slushy streets aside, the miner’s shower and kicking snow off his boots seems to have done it. 

He looks lost, in more ways than one. Down on his luck, melancholy but different to the kind of sadness you usually see. Tired. Like there's something missing about him.

You go through the motions of asking how long he’ll be staying with you, figuring which room to put him in — end of the hall, you decide, the least drafty of the two. Not like you ever had many guests.

You can’t help feel a little sympathy for him, standing uncomfortable in the middle of the room because you’d pointed out his mistake. 

“So, Texas, what brought you to our little town?” You ask and pull on your coat, motioning for him to follow you back outside. 

The front steps are slick with ice, in need of another layer of salt. You step carefully over it, the stranger offering you an arm to hang onto as you descend, and lead him around the side of the house, the path already dug out from the snowfall of the previous night. 

Dark is falling quick, the sun sinking below the mountains, layering the valley in its usual early darkness, the crests of the hills in the distance cast in an eerie golden orange even through the snowfall. 

Texas doesn’t answer you, the tread of his footsteps quiet behind you. When you reach the back of the house, snow up to your ankles padded in from the yard, you turn to face him, snow battering at both of you. “Just work.” 

“Why here?” 

You like knowing strangers. They’re easy to know, because there’s no chance of them turning and knowing too much, of looking behind your questions and smiles and seeing anything important. You are anonymous to them as they are to you, and that's how you like it. Nothing you might reveal means anything.

He doesn’t answer you and so you leave it. “Well, whatever brought you here, we’re glad to have you. We don’t get many folks from other places.” You turn to the door you’ve led him to, “Now, when you get in from the mines, you come in this way.” You hold up the proper key and let both of you in. “Just to rinse off, y’know? Won’t make you clean up down here, too cold. But otherwise, you can come on through the front door as long as you kick the ice off your boots. All right?” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

He sounds so serious and polite, brow lowered over his eyes. 

“Well, okay,” you smile. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Yours is the first place Joel lands in a long time that he feels comfortable. 

Everything has a worn, lived in feel to it, like generations of families and visitors and travelers have passed there before him, like the warmth of their ghosts still linger in the walls and beneath the floorboards.  

The front room is cluttered with books and all kinds of knicknacks, postcards that look like they were sent by people who passed through or visited before the town stopped getting so many visitors. The wallpaper is peeling and the floors groan no matter where he sets his feet. 

It reminds him of somewhere he’s been before, or something he used to know, and can’t say exactly what. 

Maybe it just reminds him of all the comfortable places he’s ever been, that very particular small town intimacy that he’s tried to remain anonymous and separate from for the last year or so. 

He means to stay just until the snow storm passes. 

And then it does and he keeps on staying. 

It’s funny, how quick he takes to you, feels the ache of something settled just at the bottom of his chest, echoed back at him in your eyes. A kind of loneliness and seeking that he tramps down any time it dares raise its head. 

“You know,” you had said the second evening he was there. He had been thinking about getting something to eat, and instead found himself letting you pour him a cup of coffee. “You can stay for dinner. We used to feed everybody who stayed here. But that was before the passenger trains quit running. Before my time, nearly. Now it’s just those guys that pass through and wanna go over to the bar anyway.” 

“I don’t want ya to go outta your way—”

“Please,” you’d scoffed. “I’d be glad for the company.” 

“All right,” he’d found himself agreeing to that smile, the invitation of company he hadn’t wanted or needed in a long time. “Anything I can help you with?” 

You’d shaken your head and he sat when you’d gestured at the table. “Very kind of you to offer, though, Joel.” 

He hadn't been sure what to say either, that second night, because he’d been alone for so long, and talk had come at a minimum since he left Texas. 

The house sighed and Joel sipped his coffee, watching the points of your elbows, the jut of your hip, as you cooked. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t been sure what to say, because you had; well versed in quiet strangers it seemed, which would come to bother him. 

He would come to hate how easily you get on with strangers and push everyone else away. 

But he hadn’t known that the second night. 

Maybe he just hadn’t realized how starved for company he’d really been. But he liked you right away and the way you just talk, every thought you ever had floating up and right out of your mouth without a filter.

It takes his mind off the things he tries to forget anyway.  

So, he had eaten with you that second night and every night that he can afterwards. 

A week passes and you expect Joel to move on, like everyone does. But he doesn’t, he asks for the room for another week, and then another, and another. 

Joel clips steadily into your life, until he’s part of your everyday routine. 

He gives you extra money for the dinner appointment he keeps with you each night, though you tell him he doesn’t have to. 

He makes himself helpful in the evenings even though you suspect he’s always exhausted but never able to get any shut eye. He drinks coffee by the pot full, and though you wonder what it is that keeps him up at night, you don’t ask. You don’t ask anything of him, because it isn’t your place, though your curiosity burns hot.

The stranger is becoming not a stranger and you don’t know how to feel about that. Maybe this time you would manage to let someone in without feeling like the world might cave in on you. 

The stranger, Joel, is kind and sometimes funny. He’s handsome and it’s hard not to like his company. He doesn't talk much but you don't mind.

The dark shadow that hangs behind his eyes has nothing to do with you. But it gets hard to remember that when you end up spending so much time with him. 

It isn’t long before your neighbor, and friend, starts in on teasing you about him. Each time Janie comes to the back door with fresh bread from the bakery she makes eyes at you and asks after your handsome boarder. 

You claim to know nothing of him, despite knowing so much and so little all in one. 

You start to worry every Sunday that he goes out on his own into the woods that he’ll never come back, and that all you’ll have left are the footprints he left in the snow, and even those will be long gone when the year eventually and inevitably warms up. 

It scares you that it worries you at all. It shouldn’t matter at all if he suddenly disappeared into the snow. 

But he always comes back, never with any game even though you told him nobody cares about the no hunting on Sundays rule, and with a look in his eye that says he did kill something, just not something you could see. 

When you figure out he’s carrying nothing to work with him to eat, you insist he go next door and get some pepperoni rolls from Janie. “What is it?” 

“What’s it sound like?” You ask and roll your eyes. “They’re good to take into the mines with you. You can’t work thousand hour shifts and not eat. Don’t you have a lunch bucket or somethin’?” 

“Thousand hour,” he scoffs. Then, “No, I don’t.”

“Jesus, Joel.”

He laughs and it’s the first time you’ve heard it. It’s nice, and sounds surprised in the air, punched out of him in a short burst. “All right,” he agrees. “All right. I’ll figure somethin’ out.” 

But he leaves before the sun comes up and comes back long after it’s set and so you can’t just let it go. His whole days are set in perpetual darkness, and the very least he needs to do is eat proper.

You know you shouldn’t, but you worry about him. 

“Just do it,” you grouse at him, shooing him away from the coffee pot. “She makes ‘em fresh everyday and it would make me feel better. It’s common, anyway. It’s what a lot of guys take down there. And you wouldn’t want me dying of worry over you, would you?” 

Joel grumbles about it, but he does as you ask, and when he comes in in the evenings, he doesn’t look so pale anymore. The bruises under his eyes never go away, the puffy bags of sleeplessness that he supplements with coffee at all hours of the day, morning and night, but he doesn’t look so wan and so it’s better.  

Even quiet as he seems to be, he looks at you when you talk and always says thank you when you put a plate down in front of him, and makes it out to be a great ordeal when he asks if he could trouble you for a cup of coffee.

One evening, a couple weeks on, he slumps down at the table with an unusual amount of heaviness. His shoulders are damp with a thousand snowflakes, coal dust rubbed haphazardly off his face, the weight of a heavy sky on his shoulders. 

Joel asks for a cup of coffee but he looks like he’s been sleeping even less than usual. 

He looks exhausted, purple bags beneath his eyes, and even though it’s none of your business, you ask, “Sure? Might be you won’t sleep.” 

“I’ll be all right.” His voice doesn’t leave room for argument, a tad dismissive. 

“You’ll eat with it,” you snap. “Or you can go find it somewhere else.” 

He blinks up at you, surprised at your tone. “I can be mean, too, Joel Miller.” 

It takes a second but he nods. “I’m sorry. I was raised with better manners than that.” 

“I know it. It’s all right.” 

Almost like an apology, he tells you about Texas that night, about his brother, about what he’s found he actually misses from home, how he used to be a carpenter before he did this, how he can play the guitar.

“What is it you’re lookin’ for?” You ask softly when he stands at your sink with bowed shoulders, washing the dishes, meticulous about it. 

He shrugs. “That’s just it,” he says without looking at you, hands reddened with the heat of the water. “There's nothin’ to look for.” 

“You’re that Mr. Miller, aren’t ya? Lives over at the inn, right? Have all winter long?” 

Joel is in the tiny general store. It’s mid-March and you asked him to get milk. There’s about five shelves total, a freezer, and a refrigerator. He’s been in and out plenty of times without any kind of trouble. 

He glances at the man leaning against the cooler door next to the one he has propped open and gives a vague nod. “Sure.” 

“Well, we was just wantin’ to know what’s got you hangin’ around over there for so long.” 

It ain’t phrased like a question. 

Joel glances over his shoulder, finds two women and the owner of the store looking over at them from the front counter. 

“Mister?” 

He turns back to the man attempting to intimidate him. “That so?” 

“Sure do.” 

“Well, she don’t seem to have a problem with my stayin’ there,” he grabs the milk you’d asked him for, the least he could do after all those dinners you cooked. He tries to repay you, do things around the place but you’re resistant to it, independent and sometimes angry, and damn stubborn about it. “So I really don’t see what that has to do with you, anyhow.” 

The hostility bleeds red in the air. He pays for the milk and doesn’t wait for the change, figuring he wouldn’t get it anyway, and that a few coins didn’t matter anyway. 

When he opens the backdoor, snow and ice and street grit knocked carefully off his boots at the bottom of the steps that led up to the porch, you smile at him. 

“You got some protective friends.” 

“Excuse me?” 

He tells you what happened, lets you put a cup of coffee in front of him on the table and press a friendly hand to his shoulder. 

And, Jesus, it shouldn’t, but it makes something deep in him ache. If your hand lingered, if it rubbed the top of his spine and between his shoulder blades, he’d be all right with that; he’d lean into it. 

But your hand disappears just as quick. 

“Oh, honey, they’re just suspicious of anyone that hangs around town for too long.”

“Why’s that?” 

“You ain’t noticed? We don’t get people from other places around here, and the ones we have take everything. With not a lot to go around. They just don’t know you.” You smile wryly at him over your shoulder, mouth twisted crookedly. Your gaze flicks over him, lingering for a second, but then you shrug and turn away.

“Make an effort, if you care to. They’ll come around. They just don’t know you, it’s not like you get out,” you rib lightly. 

“Cute.” 

“Can’t help you go from here to the mines and back and that’s it.” You’re smiling when you say it, the curve of your cheek visible to him even though your back is turned. 

He rolls his eyes and you laugh when you catch him doing it. 

He can’t figure why it matters to him, but it does. 

So, Joel makes the effort, or does his best to. 

He makes his way over to the neighbor’s place and offers to fix their front step he noticed was loose, wood rotting through. He fixes someone’s leaking roof. Runs deliveries of groceries to the old folks who can’t get out and regale him with stories that take at least two hours to tell. He shovels snow until he’s so exhausted he does actually pass out at night. 

It gets around that he’s handy and not asking for anything in return and a nice young man according to the older people and so he finds he has something to do each evening for almost a week straight. 

Maybe that was a mistake, but if Joel knows anything it’s that small, poor towns run on favors. He knows that you smile when he tells you why he’s back so late each evening. 

A week or so after the general store incident, he receives a parcel of muffins, and overhears one of the neighbors commending him in your kitchen. “Maybe he’s not so bad. We was worried. No one ever sees him. You should bring him over to the church sometime.” 

It shouldn’t matter, but it does. You laugh and say, “I don’t think either of us are the church goin’ type. But I always know a good man when I see one, you should know that by now at least.”

“You sure do. Think he could fix our porch swing before spring comes?” 

“Don’t see why he couldn’t.” 

He makes an effort to be seen. It’s nice, he guesses, that people know his name again. It’s nice to feel needed somewhere, even if it smarts a little. It’s nice to feel like maybe he isn’t looking for nothing anymore. 

Joel tells himself that it just makes things easier for him, just so he can get goddamn milk without being accosted. Milk for you, for dinner. 

No, it has nothing at all to do with you, or the way you called him a good man, or the way the tips of his ears went hot with it.

Not getting to talk to you for a week straight in the evenings almost becomes worth it. 

It has nothing at all to do with that big lonely hole in his heart, or the memories that snagged like sharp teeth at the edge of that wound. 

The mines are way out past the edge of town. 

It’s a long damn walk there and back. The morning is pitch black when he sinks into the cold earth, and only dregs of light are left when he comes back up in the evenings. 

But the town, when he draws near, sparkles with light, bright with moonlight reflected on the snow that won’t seem to melt, even as April begins to creep in. 

Spring should be well on its way, but the world still smells frozen and bruised, like pine needles and coal dust and the enduringly brutal cold. 

Most that stay in town are just passing through town, on their way to somewhere else. He finds he doesn’t mind being the only permanent fixture at your place. 

Some of them are all right, most of them really, but a few make him wary. He worries about you, though you don’t seem concerned about being alone. He supposes you did it long before he got there, and you’ll do it after he leaves. 

They’re gone within days, anyway, so he doesn’t say anything about it. But he wants to, the words like bubbles that want to pop in the back of his throat. He wants to tell you to be careful and not so friendly. 

He’s exhausted by the time he makes his way to the basement door, folds away his coal encrusted oversuit and rises off the worst of the sweat and dust quick. He’ll take a proper shower later. 

You and him have fallen into a routine the last couple months, the fine sharp edge of April waiting just around the corner, and with it the hopes for warmer weather, that the temperatures will rise and the wind won’t bite quite so harshly. 

There’s always something hot waiting for him on the table, even if you aren’t there to see to it. Most nights you’re there, but you are busy. More times than not lately, you’re somewhere else, doing something else, maybe like you’re trying to unstick yourself from him just a little. But you’re just busy, popular in town as a local, a regular nearly everywhere. 

He always sits with you when he gets the chance, eats with you. He likes to. It keeps his mind off of what he’d left behind, what he lost.

Just like working himself to death all day does. It’s hard to think beyond the physical, backbreaking pain of the labor to what lay in back in Texas. 

You and him create a routine together, solid and steady. 

When it’s interrupted, he hates to admit it burns. 

It hadn’t taken him long to realize that you are profoundly lonely, despite the plethora of people in and out of your life—the visitors and guests, but the townspeople, too. You’re a regular everywhere, and somehow always alone. 

You’re friends with the baker next door, at least. As far as he can tell, she’s the only person you’re really close with in the town. 

The baker has started coming to the back door in the morning, a sly smile on her face that he’s not particularly keen on. He has started taking the basket from her, answering the knock that never waited to be answered, the door always pushed in before either of you could get to it, a basket of fresh bread and the pepperoni rolls he’d started buying off her weeks before to appease you.  

He forgets to eat more than he ever has before. It just doesn’t seem to matter. 

A couple times a week, you sit down to cards and cigarettes and drinks with the baker. He listens to the gossip from the front room, a book with words that blur and never sink in propped on his knee. To hear the two of you together, it makes something in his throat close. 

He usually has Sundays off, days where he’d climb out into the great unknown of the valleys and hills that surround the picturesque town, almost village-like with all its holiday lights still strung up to keep the long dark days of the enduring winter season at bay, and, rifle in hand, go hunting. 

It’s illegal to go hunting on Sundays, but you assure him no one cares as long as it’s after the church services are over.  

He never manages to get a shot off anyway, so it doesn’t really matter. 

Everytime he thinks he’ll be able to lift the gun to his shoulder and pull the trigger at the creature sighted in the scope, he doesn’t, he can’t. He sees his daughter instead. He sees Sarah’s closed coffin; he sees her bloodied face, shards of glass spread around her like a halo of sparkling snow; he sees her blonde hair stuck to her forehead with sweat, tubes crawling in and out of her mouth and chest and arms.

And all Joel has to show for it is a scar across the bridge of his nose, a tight pinch in his right shoulder that hadn’t been there before.

There are a lot of deer around, but birds, too, ducks and geese, rabbits, foxes. All of them remind him of his kid and so the rifle remains unused. He can’t help but feel like he might be killing his kid all over again. 

The basement is dark and chilled when he gets in, but not cold or damp. Snow crumbles from his boots and leaves an icy shine behind. There’s a broom beside the door and he does his best to sweep the mess to the drain in the center of the basement floor. 

Something weary weighs on him. He feels heavy all the time, tired beyond belief, and like a hole might open up in his chest at any moment, like the heart of him might slip out, bloody and mangled, right onto the floor. 

This isn’t the first town he’s stumbled onto, lost and wandering, unable to stay in Texas without thinking of his girl. It is the first town he’s stayed in longer than a week. 

It’s been near a year since she passed in that hospital, machines turned off, chest ceasing to rise and fall. 

He thought he could take it, be strong, be there as his child died right in front of him. 

He’d had to agree to it after all, sign all the right papers and talk to all the right people, and get a thousand and one second opinions from all kinds of doctors to be sure. 

No brain activity. No chance of ever waking up. Hung in limbo forever, and he couldn’t abide that, that maybe she was in pain and trying to move on and leave and find rest and he wasn’t letting her. 

They assured him that she would not feel a thing, and that was good, but no one warned him that he would be the one taking it all on. It felt like being carved open, split down the middle, like he was raw and turned inside out and someone was holding a hot needle to his lungs. 

He hadn’t been able to help the way he fell to his knees and howled, sobbed. 

So, after the funeral, he sold his house and left. Did odd jobs and backbreaking seasonal work for almost a year, a different town every week, until he stumbled on this mining town, deep in the hills of some place long forgotten. 

By the looks of the buildings, it might have been busy once, trains and visitors and people, but the mines feel like they’ve been there since the beginning of time. There’s something ancient in the air and down in the deep earth. 

Maybe he stays because he got into town on the anniversary of the accident. 

He’s goddamn stupid if he doesn’t think it has nothing to do with you, though. 

Joel should have already moved on when he heard about your little inn, in the bar down the street, but snow had moved in, so thick and white, he couldn’t see more than an inch in front of his face. The roads would be bad for days after, the least he could do was get away from that shitty company housing while he waited, and get a few more days of pay. 

But the roads cleared, and a week passed, and then another, and another, and he still hasn’t met that urge to keep moving, to put space between him and Sarah. He only thinks of her when he’s trying to sleep, and those fateful Sundays. 

The kitchen is empty and cold when he closes the basement door behind him, a thin wind spiraling in from the cracked open back door. 

The porch is dark but the outline of you is clear, sitting on the plastic-covered porch swing with a cigarette between your fingers. “Those things’ll kill ya they say,” he says by way of greeting, leaning against the siding. 

“And what exactly do you go breathing in everyday down in them mines that’s so healthy?” There’s a snap in your voice that usually isn’t there, that mean streak that lashes out from time to time. 

Joel pulls the door almost shut, shuts the little bit of light leaking outside away. “Are you all right?” 

“Sorry.” 

“S’okay,” he says. “Should I leave ya?” 

It takes a minute for you to answer. “Get a coat and come sit.” After a second you add, “If y’want.” 

So he gets a coat and sits next to you on the swing. The plastic crinkles under his thighs. “Do you smoke?” 

“I used to.” He should leave it at that but more words follow that he doesn’t intend. “Stopped years ago, a couple months before my - my daughter was born.” He falters a little on the words.

Joel braces himself, stiffens, all the bone and muscle inside of him going deadly tight, waiting for the inevitable questioning. Maybe you don’t care to ask or maybe you feel him tense or hear something in his voice because you don’t ask. 

Something pricks at him, disappointment maybe. 

“Well, it’s just us here,” you say simply. “You want one?” 

Sarah never knew he smoked. 

He takes the one you offer and the packet of matches. 

“I don’t usually,” you say without prompting. “Smoke, that is. Sometimes when I drink.” 

Joel takes a long drag and holds it in his lungs for a long minute. It feels good and tastes as bad as he remembers. “Card night.” 

You smile at him, cigarette slowly brought to your lips. “That’s right.” 

He almost asks what it is that has you smoking without your friend, but he figures you’re about to tell him anyway. You talk a lot. He likes that about you. 

So he waits. 

And you don’t say anything. 

There’s just a long melancholy silence where your words normally are. 

On a usual evening, he comes upstairs and bothers you about letting him help you some way. You don’t like letting people help you, like it even less when he just does it anyway. 

On a usual evening, he’s threatened with expulsion from the kitchen, and then gets caught up on local dramas, some of which he is beginning to understand, while he sits at the table with a cup of coffee and you pretend to never need help. 

The snow makes a sound as it hits the piles of the stuff that has yet to melt, frozen hard and unforgiving everywhere. 

He’s never been around snow, much less sat outside as it fell. 

The whole world goes quiet with it, like he got sucked into a black hole and sound got swallowed up around nothing. 

And in the silence, he can hear the individual plunks of each flake settling onto the frozen ground. He wouldn’t have thought it made a sound at all.

“You sure you’re all right?” He asks and slips one arm across the back of the swing, realizing that you never answered him in the first place. 

You just draw in another long breath and inch closer to him on the swing. 

Maybe he’s not as crazy as he thought. When you look at him, there’s something in your eyes, a grief that he feels reflected back in your eyes, sharp like a tack shoved into the delicate skin between thumb and forefinger. 

The ache in his chest is present on your face. 

“Just one of those days,” you say and smile. “Sorry I’m not myself.”

You’re plenty yourself, just muted. Quiet. 

He does quiet pretty well, so you just sit there and listen to the snow, breathe it in, shudder against his arm until he just wraps it around you, trying not to put too much thought into it. 

You don’t look at him. “Thanks.” 

“Mhm.” 

He’s not sure how long you sit there. He just knows he’s numb when your hand covers his, your fingers feel hot against the freezing ache that’s set in.

“My dad was a miner. Pretty much everybody is around here, I guess. Those mines,” you say and shake your head. “They give. We wouldn’t exist without ‘em, but they take too. They take what they think they’re owed in the end. You can’t take that much out of Earth that old and expect nothin’ bad.” You hesitate for a long moment but when Joel squeezes your hand, you continue. “My dad died in a mine collapse around this time a couple years ago. So I guess that’s what I'm thinkin’ about today.”

There’s a long moment of silence, and, slowly, your head tips against his shoulder. The cigarettes are stubbed out, the butts deposited in an ashtray. “Usually, this time of year all the snow is already gone. And then the rains come and everything floods. And that spring, the mine collapsed with it.” 

He thinks of telling you of his own grief, his own loss, and the way he ran away from it. The way he’s still trying to run away from it. But something sharp twinges in his chest and he stays silent. Layering his grief over yours wouldn’t help no one, least of all you. 

Telling someone about her, someone who didn’t know her, having to describe her — he wants to, and can’t imagine doing it, all in one. 

Maybe it isn’t right to, anyway. 

Instead, he squeezes your hand, tilts his chin against your forehead. “You always run this place?” 

“No. Back when there were people still passing through, my aunt did. It’s not like there’s much else to do around here so I just decided to keep it going when she left.” 

“It’s nice.” 

“Think so? One day it’ll be a five star hotel.” 

He chuckles. “I don’t doubt it. Almost too rich for my blood now.” 

“Honorary guest,” you disagree. “Always. Room reserved for you, just in case.” 

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m serious,” you laugh and relax fully against his shoulder; the tension bleeds out of you, the curve of you spilling softly into him.

You sit like that for a long time, until the snow stops coming down.   

It’s then that the world does go silent as a grave, like the two of you are the last people alive. 

“It’s been real nice havin’ you here,” you say suddenly and quietly, like someone might hear, like you might disturb him. The puff of your breath clouds, crystalizes in front of him like something physical he might pluck from the air and put in his pocket.

Glad to have been here, glad to be here, he wants to say and doesn’t. It feels wrong to be glad to be anywhere at all. 

When you tilt your face up, your eyes are soft. He doesn’t even think about it. 

He just kisses you. 

You taste like blackberries, dark sweet and sour. The cigarette on your tongue is only an afterthought. The sound you make when he cups your head in his hands and tips it back, rehomes itself in his chest. 

When he pulls you into himself, you sigh. 

Five days later, it’s a Sunday. Another snowstorm is passing through the hills, and any snow that had managed to melt that week comes right back. 

Joel only realizes when he’s brushing his teeth—preoccupied with thinking about maybe not going hunting for once, and cleaning the damn rifle instead—that it’s unusually cold. He rinses his mouth out and goes to find you. 

The steps creak and crack as he descends them, like they’re covered in a spiderwebbed ice that might split and send him into some achingly cold depth if he isn’t careful.  

He finds you bundled up in a coat by the backdoor, a scarf wound halfway up your face, just your eyes visible above the fabric. 

“I’m sorry,”  you say, voice muffled and eyes wide. “The heating went out and there’s nothin’ to be done about it until the snow clears up a little and it ain’t supposed to until tomorrow.” You shake your head. “Never snows this goddamn much or this late in the season,” you gripe, a bitterness in your voice. 

“Well, that ain’t your fault,” he says, watching you wiggle your fingers into a pair of gloves. He thinks you’re just layering up, but when you reach for your boots by the back door it becomes apparent that you intend to go outside. “And just where do you think you’re goin’?”

You pick up a basket next and reach for the doorknob. “I need wood for the fireplace—”

“Then let me get it for ya,” he says, stepping into his own boots, tugging the basket out of your hands as he goes. “You’ll freeze out there.”

“No, Joel, you’re a guest here—”

“C’mon,” he says. “It ain’t like that now and you know it.” You don’t say anything but when he looks up, you’re frowning at him. ���We got anyone else around?” 

“Just—it’s just me and you.” 

He doesn’t know why you sound so upset about it. “Good. Now where’s the wood?” 

You blink and glance away, pulling at your gloves nervously. “In the shed. Should be enough little pieces but the ax is by the door if some of it needs broken up.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll have some coffee ready for you.” 

“You don’t gotta do that.” He opens the door, snow swirls in. 

“I’m doin’ it anyway.” Then. “Joel?” 

He turns. 

“Thanks.” 

He’s not sure what he’s being thanked for and you still aren’t really looking at him, so he nods and plunges into the white blur that is the back yard, the whip of blizzard wind harsh against his face.

Inside the shed he finds that more of the wood does need axed.

He can’t get the way you looked at him out of his mind. You’ve been busy the last couple days, always out or taking care of something, pushing away any of his attempts to. . .what? He isn’t sure. Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe he made things complicated, messed something up along the way.

He fears that pushing has nothing to do with the grief that had made a home on your face that evening you spent on the porch together, but what came after and what he hadn’t said. 

You have been different too. Like something wary and stiff.

He chops the wood, feels every lift and swing of the ax. It seems to ache more in the cold. Everything does. 

Joel shoves the wood into the basket and stacks the extra pieces back onto the pile. The house is marginally warmer than outside without the brutal slice of the wind. He leaves his boots by the back door and finds you poking around in the grate of the fireplace. 

You back away when he approaches and it stings that you do. 

“Somethin’ the matter?” 

“No. ‘Course not.” 

But there is. Some kind of wall went up between you the other night. He should have said something. “All right. I’m, uh, I’m gonna get outta your hair for a while.” 

He doesn’t think of being in a blizzard, just that he needs to get out of your house before you ask him out of it, before you kick him out of it.  

The only thing he can think is that he doesn’t mean shit to you. Somewhere along the way, things got messed up, like they always do. His ex-wife’s face flashes behind his eyes, all that happened with her, all of it that always seemed to be his fault. 

Joel grabs his gear and goes out into the blue-white of the snow and makes his usual trek to a spot up in the hills. He sits with his back to a tree and listens to the way the weather beats down. The metal of the rifle goes ice cold between his knees, the bluster of the wind coats him in a perfect white. 

He might just be the only living thing out. The world is quiet apart from that brutal, beautiful shush of wind through trees and snow through air. 

He’d be ashamed to admit it, but the only thing he thinks about that day, is you. 

Joel’s hair is still damp and curling lightly against the back of his neck when he finds his way to the kitchen. 

He’d come back frozen to the bone, ice in his hair and eyebrows and the webbing of his lashes. It’s all melted now, and you have to resist the urge to reach out and touch him there, the back of his neck where you know his skin is soft, the feathery thick hair that grows a little long these days. 

“You have a minute?” Joel asks, right hand toying with the strap of his watch. He’s looking at you the way he always does lately, like he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. A stab of guilt rakes pointed talons along your belly. 

You did that, you always do that. 

Stop it, you think. Don’t do that this time. 

“Hey,” you nod, trying. “Sure, I do. Was gonna ask you to come sit with me anyhow.” 

He pauses, takes the cup of coffee when you extend it to him, fresh brewed, a peace offering of sorts. Peace over what, you don’t know. “Y’were?” He sounds surprised, takes the cup from you, his fingers brushing yours. 

“Sure,” you answer, swiping your hand over your thigh. His gaze follows. “It’s just s’cold upstairs. Electricity’ll be out ‘til tomorrow probably. At the earliest. So.” 

He nods and looks down into his cup and you feel bad about the last week again. Of how you’re pushing again and don’t know how to stop. You held him at arm's length, made sure you were out and busy and away, watched him stop smiling at you again, replaced instead by uncertainty. 

It’s unfair. 

He should probably hate you over it. 

You wonder why he’s still here. 

When he looks up at you, you smile and his shoulders relax marginally. “All right. I’m gonna get more wood, then I’ll be there.” 

You show him the bottle of whiskey when he comes back inside, smelling of frozen air and pine. “Just to stay warm,” you promise. 

He doesn’t say no to the drink you pour him, or the way you inch closer to him. 

Because it’s cold, you tell yourself, just like it had been on the porch that other time.

The pull of longing in your chest hasn’t eased since then. You shouldn’t have let him, you’re bad at hanging on to people and afraid they’ll disappear, and you’d rather hurt by choice. You’d rather be alone and ache. 

But Joel is here and real and still in front of you, still looking at you.

It’s terrible because he wants you to know things about him and you want to run away. You want to push him away, until he leaves or hates you or both. He brought up his daughter and even though you think it might have been an accident, you think he might have wanted you to ask about her. 

And you hadn’t. 

He doesn’t make it any easier on you by being warm and solid and pressing an offering open arm along the back of the couch. 

Just like the other time. 

You accept it, because it's cold. Just because it’s cold. 

It has nothing at all to do with the way he strokes your shoulder and tugs you close to him, the way his head tilts down over yours when you press the cold tip of your nose into his neck by accident and then leave it there on purpose. 

You aren’t expecting him to say anything. The guttering of the candles lulls you to sleep, the pepper of white snow against the black swirl outside soothing. “You know,” the sound of his voice rumbles against your ear. “I didn’t know snow made noise.”

You blink. “What?”

“That sound it makes. When it’s real quiet, you can hear it land.” 

“Suppose you can, yeah.” 

“My daughter,” he starts and your breath hitches. The broken eggshell of memory delicately being pressed into the palms of your hands. You’re being trusted with something. “She only saw snow once, I think. Real slushy and wet. Not like you get around here. And I don’t remember it makin’ a noise.”

You swallow the instinct to change the subject, to say something dismissive, to push and push. 

“Did she like it?” You ask after a moment. “The snow?” 

“Yep. Got off from school. Made the world’s tiniest snowman. Maybe only a foot high. Made snow angels that turned out to be more mud than snow. My brother thought that was real funny.” 

You laugh and lean into his shoulder. He smells like snow and damp cotton and gun oil. “What’s her name?” 

Assuming. No, hoping. You are hoping that he’s just missing her, that the chipped china memory in your palm is of a girl he misses and doesn’t mourn. But you could tell the other day, you could tell by his voice and the way he isn’t with her. If he had a choice, he’d be with her. 

Joel isn’t like you. 

He’s not the kind to leave someone behind. 

He clears his throat. “Sarah. She was, uh, she was twelve.” 

“Oh. Oh, Joel. I’m sorry.” 

And you are. That is a loss no one should ever know, and Joel is not the kind to carry it well. It leaves those purple circles under his eyes, burrows deep ruts into the arteries to his heart, half his blood just drained away. It leaves the coffee pot empty, it whispers fourteen hour work days, and still no sleep. 

It pushes a rifle into hands that always come back without game. 

“Anyway, I think she would have liked this shit,” he gestures to the snow beyond the window with the mug in his hand, coffee and whiskey. “Think she would have liked it here.”

“It’s okay, when you get to know the place.” You follow his eyes. “It’s home, anyway.”  

“Yeah,” he says. “It is.” 

What part he’s agreeing with, you aren’t sure you want to know. 

He looks at you again, and you can’t bear to meet his gaze through the dark that’s fallen on the room, to see too deeply into what lay there. Sharing his daughter with you, that she died so young. A lot of things about him suddenly fall into place in your mind. 

The grief and the love with no place to go. It makes sense why he’s there, running away from something that could never be ignored. 

You take the cup from him and pull him up by the hand. 

He fits against you, pulled in tight, so easily. You feel the brush of his mouth against your cheek, his fingers against your back.

You sway, and there’s no music. You want to say that you’re sorry again. Not for his daughter, because he wouldn’t want to hear it, but for everything else — the running you’re both doing, the snow and the cold, and how clear it is that everything in the world looks like grief and loss and the big hole in his chest. 

“I think you should ask Joel to get a drink.” 

Janie pauses mid-chop, knife hanging in the air. Your friend the baker turns to look at you over her shoulder. “What did you just say?” 

You wince and fiddle with the edge of your sweater. “Joel. You should ask him.” 

“Now why,” she starts, wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist. “Would I go and do somethin’ like that?” 

“Well, I think y’all would be good together—”

She sighs heavy and long, rolling her eyes as she sits down across from you and takes your hand in hers, still wet from rinsing the vegetables off. “You’re doin’ it again, you know.” 

“Doin’ what?” You snap, yanking your hand back, accusatory. 

“As soon as you think somebody is getting too close you push ‘em away. I know you know what you’re doin’. And I know if I hadn’t had the sense to hold onto you so hard all them years ago, you woulda done the same to me. And we’d just be neighbors.” 

She raises a brow at you when you sputter. But it’s true. You know it’s true. 

It happens all the time, with everyone. It always hits you so hard, the sudden smothered feeling, the scared, confused, cornered animal feeling, when hanging onto something seemed impossible and wrong. 

“You know that man don’t want nothin’ to do with me.” 

“He always answers the door to you in the mornings,” you defend weakly.  

“As a favor to you. He does everything for you, and I know you noticed or you wouldn’t be trying to pass him off on me. You don’t gotta be so avoidant. Not everything disappears.”

You know, but you what you don’t know is how to stop it. The sharp talons and fangs that spring out whenever someone gets too close are always a surprise. You hate it when people care about you, when you care about them. 

It’s like there’s a box around you, growing smaller with each passing second. So, you flee, before the box crushes you, or before the thing trapped in there with you gets to do it first.

That’s what you’re really afraid of, after all, not that someone might care about you, but that they one day might stop.  

“I told him about my dad,” you admit.

Janie freezes, blinks, and then looks over at you. You look back at her, miserable about it. “Oh, honey.” 

“And he. . .you shoulda seen the way he—” The way he looked at you. You almost tell her about Sarah, but don’t. That loss isn’t yours to tell, no matter what, even if it would tell her exactly how close he’s drifted to you. 

You don’t know what to call it, anyway. The way he looked at you the night of the snowstorm, the air chilled and the whole world cold except for the two of you pressed together. His hand in yours, the mocking remembrance that you had forgotten in that moment to feel trapped. 

No, that had come later. When you couldn’t breathe before going to bed, when your skin felt pinched and tight. That moment is tinged in your mind with the heaviness of a hand pinching the back of your neck, instead of the gentle press of fingers to your spine, his mouth against your cheek but not your lips, not again.

“He’ll leave soon and it won’t matter,” you dismiss with a shake of your head. “He’s got to be goin’ soon. I know it.”  

She pats your hands again, pity in her gaze. “It will matter, and you know it. But it seems to me he’s stuck. And it isn’t this town or those mines that are keeping him here. He wants to hang on. You should, too, for once. He’s looked like nothin’ but a kicked dog lately, and one that might bite at that.” 

The snow melts over the next couple of weeks, temperatures rise rapidly. For a while, the sun shines, the weather is nice; the skies a purest bluest blue. 

Joel doesn’t leave. 

He smokes more on the back porch, his eyes far away and haloed with something distant. He stops hunting on Sundays, and starts going fishing at the lake instead, and unlike before he brings back a haul. 

For a minute, it seems like things might be okay. You don’t allow yourself to have any more quiet, secret moments with him, but you don’t push either. You try not to push. 

But you wonder if he wants that, if he might have wanted to kiss you again when the heat went out and you were stupid enough to let yourself reel him back to you. 

Then, one day, the rains come. Clouds so black they appear blue roll in and sit heavy in the sky for a day, winds whipping the leaves of the trees back so their bellies show. Old warnings about just how bad the weather was about to get. 

The skies open up, and the rain doesn’t stop. 

For weeks. 

Suddenly all anyone can talk about are the floods and the landslides that are likely to happen any day. 

You wish they wouldn’t, or at least not to you, or have the decency not to look at you with pity when they talk about it. What if there’s a mine collapse? Well, you think, that too is likely. 

The creeks swell until they look like rivers; the rivers glut themselves with so much rainwater the levees threaten to bend and break, the banks of the lake disappear, silt stirred so deeply that the whole lake goes brown with it. 

Joel stops fishing. 

You expect them to close the mines, at least for a while. But the coal companies have never cared about any of you, and they weren’t about to start. 

“Mornin’,” he says, his voice a soft grumbling rumble. 

“Hi,” you say, not turning away from your spot by the window, watching the rain pour down seemingly harder. 

The rain and all it could wash away, makes you anxious. Makes the whole town anxious. Flooded river plains and lake shores, mountainsides crumbling down to sweep everything away. It’s embedded in you, something your body learned generations before you were born. 

A generational curse, a landscape that could steal everything, that had and would again. 

“You okay?” 

The sound of the coffee pot sliding out of place, liquid being poured, ceramic clicking down onto the counter. 

“Yeah. The rain makes me anxious.” 

“All anyone talks about are the floods.” 

“Same way every year,” you shrug, like it doesn’t keep you awake at night. Like you haven’t stopped sleeping and pace all night long. “Hard thing to forget, once it happens to you.” 

Joel makes a soft noise in the back of his throat and joins you at the window. “It’s gettin’ lighter every day, at least.” 

You think he means it to comfort you. 

“The sound, though.” 

The sound of rain tapping at the window is like nails on a chalkboard — warning. 

He covers your hand with his for just a second, the squeeze of his fingers around yours barely felt. “I know.”  

Too close. 

It’s too close. 

You don’t want him to know that. 

You move your hand before his skin has fully left yours, jerking away like you’ve been stung.  

He clears his throat and shifts, floorboards squeaking awkwardly beneath his socked feet. 

Socked feet. Hand on yours, rough skin against yours. Tender words, gentle tone. 

It all feels like he knows too much, wants too much. You take a step away from the warmth he radiates under the guise of reaching for the handle of the dishwasher. “You think you’ll be movin’ on soon?” 

A surprised silence follows your words. “What?”

“It’s just you been here awhile.” 

He doesn’t answer and you start to unload the dishwasher, carefully stacking the ceramic on the counter even though you’d normally just put them up in the cabinets. “Big waste of money, stayin’ somewhere like here for so long. If you’re waitin’ for better pay or something, I can tell you it won’t happen. Not even if you talk to the union.” 

A long silence follows your words. It’s a buzzing, angry silence. “You ain’t even gonna look at me?” 

You shrug and your body continues on autopilot, still not looking at him, stacking dishes one after another. 

Clink, click, clink. 

The door to the basement doesn’t exactly slam, but it shuts much harder than usual.

You sit the mug in your shaking hands down on the counter and stare at it without seeing. 

The pressure in your chest isn’t gone. It never is, after. You push and push and push, until they finally let go. And then the loneliness and pain rub their hands together and slip back into their comfortable home in your chest. It’s almost a relief to have it back. 

God, why does someone knowing something about you, caring about you, feel like getting your arteries ripped out, one fine line at a time? Why does it feel like your skin is shrinking and your throat is closing up? 

Your eyes sting and you wish you wouldn’t have said it. 

But you did and he’d be on his way soon enough and everything would be simple again. 

You can remain in your little box all alone with carefully constructed walls that push everyone to the periphery of your life. They belong at arms length where you believe it won’t hurt you when they leave, where you convince yourself you’ll have enough time to recognize the signs and do it first. 

He can’t get any closer, can’t see anymore than he already has. 

Joel has to leave. You have to push him away, before he makes the choice himself and leaves you bleeding. 

But Joel isn’t like you, you think again. He’s not the kind to leave someone behind. 

The rain comes down harder. 

The house rattles with it.

You think about the mines flooding, and finally cry.  

Joel doesn’t leave, but you can tell he’s trying to figure out how to. He’s trying to leave because you want him to, and that’s what matters. 

You don’t know how he picks where to roam next and you don’t care. You’re glad he’s going to leave. 

He doesn’t eat dinner with you anymore, barely nods at you when you see him though you try to be busy with something else when he comes in in the evenings, or not in the kitchen at all, not in the house at all. 

Joel leaves so early in the morning that you don’t see him then either. The ache that slices like a knife through the ventricles of your heart tears open a little wider each day. He makes the coffee now, and always makes enough for you, too, the pot left on to keep it warm for you. One morning you find an envelope in the center of your kitchen table.

Panic overcomes you, until you open it and find a week’s worth of money. Scrawled on the outside, I’m sorry to keep imposing. 

You rip the envelope up, angry, because you don’t want to think about what it means that you got scared. Fear that he had already been gone. 

Near a week later, late in the afternoon, when the sky is a deep purple, Janie knocks on your backdoor. Her voice is frantic. She smells like raw flour and sliced apples. 

There’s mud on her boots and that’s the only thing you can think of as she talks at you, her voice far away. 

You think about the mud on her boots and her boots on your floor and how she always takes them off on the porch no matter what. 

She’s still talking, words flowing a million miles an hour, and you just think about the smell of bread and how she normally, always, takes her boots off.  

She shakes you by the shoulders suddenly, hands clamped tight against your skin. “Did you hear me?” She asks urgently. “One of the mines collapsed.” 

“Which one?” You snap, reality snapping sharply into relief. “Which one? They're all shut down but one. Which one?” 

One that is empty, or not? The one with people, or not? The one with Joel, or not?

“I don’t know. Nobody seems to know but—” 

You pull your raincoat off the hook by the door and shove your feet into the first pair of shoes you see, and dart out and into the rain, the hale of it cold against your skin and your face. 

It’s been a cold year. This time last year, it was warm and sunny already, things like a mine collapse a far off, unreal, non-possibility. 

The mud sucks at your boots but soon enough you’re on the road and running. 

You run and run and don’t feel the burn in your lungs or the pain in your thighs. There’s nothing that will keep you from getting there. The town is small and built in relation to the mines. 

You’ve always been a mining town and so it’s not far. It shouldn’t take you long to get there. 

Joel walks in the mornings. It’s not far. 

But time moves slow, and your body seems to move even slower than that. 

Shouldn’t you have known? Shouldn’t you have felt something? The beating heart of the earth tearing something away; that primordial, knowing pit taking back what had been taken from it? What it was owed in return?  

Not him. Not him. 

He didn’t owe this stretch of Earth anything. And it is not owed him. 

The hills and mountains rise up around you, the comforting presence of them, like ancient, silent sentries, suddenly loom a little more sinister. Crumbling and old and vengeful, just waiting to swing a fist down on something you cared about, something you loved, something you always try to push away. Because it would always be destroyed. The town, or a neighbor’s house, or the banks of the swollen river and lake eating up precious farmland. 

That’s one thing, though.

Towns and houses can be rebuilt, the banks of rivers and lakes and the sides of mountains reinforced — other things, well, you can never get back. 

He has to be okay. When you wanted him to leave, this is not what you meant. This is not what you wanted. 

You move backwards in your mind, mapping out all the times Joel has come home. Where he’d usually be in his journey to your house after work. 

It used to be he only came home after dark, but spring has arrived and the sun stays longer each day, and you think you should meet him on the road. You should find him at any moment; unless the mine collapsed and he was unlucky, trapped and lost and suffocating; or lucky and already dead. 

The road twists and turns. You have to slow because you live in the hills, everything and everywhere is steep. Your chest starts to burn and you wish the trees hadn’t started to get their leaves yet even though it's so late in the season because then you’d be able to see further, you’d be able to spot him earlier. 

Maybe it’s too early for him to already be along the road. 

Your coat is soaked and so is the little house dress you’re wearing. Your shins and ankles feel cold from the rain and the chill in the air. 

But then you bolt around a bend, and there he is. 

His name jumps out of your mouth, careens across the gravel road, and echoes around the valley through the din of the still falling rain. It sounds lush against the leaves. It sounds horrible against drain pipes and gravel. 

He looks surprised right before you crash into him and lock your arms around his neck. He drops his backpack and catches you, arms circling you tightly. 

“Joel.” 

“Hey—” The sound of his voice makes your knees weak and you’re afraid for a moment you might slip to the ground, into the graveled mud, and dissolve along with the rain. 

“The mine collapsed,” you say, feeling the grit of coal dust beneath your cheek, the warmth and weight of him leaning back into you, strong arms tight around you. His palm slides against the back of your neck, thumb stroking slowly. 

“I know it.” His voice is gentle, like you’re a startled, feral dog that might turn on him at any second. “S’why I’m on my way back now.” 

You start to shake and cry and he just rubs your back and tugs you more firmly into his chest. He seems to understand what’s wrong. His palm settles against the back of your neck, keeps you tucked in close to his chest as the rain continues to siphon down over you. It’s all right. I’m all right. He repeats and repeats and repeats. It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay. 

“Hey,” he pulls back eventually, the cups of his palms cradling your face, pushing the tears away. “I’m gettin’ you all dirty.” 

“I don’t care,” you grip his sleeves, press your hands over his. His face is streaked with gray so deep it appears purple, like there are bruises latticed over his face. “I don’t care. And I’m sorry.” 

“All right.” 

It’s too late, you think. Too little too late, pushed too far, and by your own hand, so you have no one to blame but yourself. 

But he’s alive and he’s okay and something precious has not been reaped by the Earth. 

You try to step back but he steps with you, not letting you go. Apologies swim to the back of your throat again, heavy on your tongue, but he’s already shaking his head at you. 

Hazel eyes stare deep into yours, rivulets of water snaking down the side of his face, tracing through the coal and dirt. You don’t look away from him this time. 

Your words get trapped, congested and clogged, sticky and stuck together. 

“Joel—”

“Let’s get outta the rain.” His hands slide down your face, briefly slot against your throat, and then trail down your shoulders and arms. “Let’s do that at least. Before you catch your death.”

“Okay.” 

You bend down to scoop his backpack off the ground, surprised because he lets you keep it and keeps his hand threaded with yours. His skin is wet against yours, the crinkle of your fingers together just a little uncomfortable. 

The rain comes down harder, lightning sparks, the angry slash of violence through the sky, thunder crackling right after. 

The walk goes quicker than your run. Time is moving at a normal pace again, you can breathe again. 

“I’ll meet ya in the kitchen,” he says when the town and your street resolves itself. He turns and takes his pack from you, pinches your chin between thumb and forefinger and tilts your face up. “All right?” 

You nod and release his other hand, and watch him walk away. You know the moment he reaches the back of the house because you hear the clatter of the basement door opening.

You just stand in the front yard for a long moment as shadow fall, as the rain continues down harder than ever.

The rain pounds against the side of the house, the windows when you step inside. The tree your neighbors have been telling you to cut down for years sways ominously, lashing the front window and the siding. The noise of it is awful. 

You stand there, dripping pools of water onto the kitchen floor, anxiously waiting for Joel to come up the steps, like you’d gone and pulled a ghost right up out of the ground. He’s all right, you tell yourself. He’s all right. Real and not some ghost. 

When he comes up the steps, his gaze flicks slowly over you. He holds a hand out. “C’mon. ‘S get you cleaned up.” 

You’re shivering. The material of the dress clings to your skin like webbed silk. 

It’s so pathetic, the way he comforts you and the way you want him to. You shouldn’t let it happen. You feel stupid, all that worry after all that pushing. 

He follows you up two sets of stairs, to the third floor, the loft where you reside even though so many of the rooms below always remain empty. 

Joel settles you on the edge of the bathtub in your little bathroom and fishes around in the cabinets until he finds what it is he’s looking for. He doesn’t ask you where anything is and you don’t offer. 

He smells like earth and pine. He doesn’t complain or pull away when you touch that hollow place in his cheek, when you stroke his beard and watch the muscle jump, jaw clenching and releasing.  

“Joel,” you say when he kneels in front of you with a washcloth in his hand, a first aid kit open on the bathroom counter. “I’m not hurt.” 

He just pats the water away from your face and hands and arms. “Y’are. Musta ran through brambles or somethin’. Legs are all torn up.” 

The surprise is muted when you look down and find you have been scratched all to hell. 

“I’m sorry,” you offer. 

He shrugs. “Nothin’ to apologize for.” 

The way he takes care of you is meticulous. Disinfectant and ointment and bandages wrapped around and around. You probably would have just rinsed the cuts out and slapped the biggest band aid on and called it a day, but that’s not good enough for him and that makes you want to cry.  

There’s only so long you can handle sitting there, shivering, feeling the press of his very warm hands into your cool, bruised skin, before you’re slipping to the floor too, kneeling with him, asking for forgiveness for something that doesn’t deserve it. 

“I’m sorry. And that’s not enough.” 

“No.” Hands cupped around yours, stilling the anxious twist of them. “Shouldn’t’ve got so comfortable. I ain’t anyone to you—”

“But you are.” 

The words bleed. They are red and bone white and raw and drop like stones between you. He thinks he means nothing. He doesn’t know. “You are. You are. And that’s why.” 

Thunder rumbles, and this time, you kiss him. 

There’s only a brief second of hesitation. 

But then he pulls you in and doesn’t let go, doesn’t complain of the cool tiles and your cooler hands or the way you pull at his clothes. 

Joel does jump when you press your hands to the small of his back, when your iced over fingers skim his belly, when you finally get to rake your nails against that coarse chest hair that makes your mouth go dry. 

“Hey,” he’s cradling you to him, mouth desperate and eyes wild. “I’m here.” 

Go easy with it, his voice asks. Go easy with me. 

You knock your forehead against his. “I know.” 

Joel nods and his fingers skim up your thighs, beneath the clinging material of your dress. He’s so warm, even though he’d been in the rain too, and his skin feels like it's burning, like the tips of his fingers might sink right down into your flesh. 

Cloth parts beneath desperate hands. He cups your breasts in his palms, follows with his lips. Fingers tug your underwear down your legs, and then slide through the core of you, circling and stroking. 

It should be a surprise that he’s so delicate with you, but it isn’t. 

He kisses you again, his beard scratching pleasantly along your skin. You gasp into him and let him lie you back against the bathroom floor. 

The rain continues outside, the lashing the house is getting a far off dream. 

The only real thing in the world is Joel, his shoulders beneath your thighs, the clench of your belly, the ache that spreads everywhere. 

He presses his forehead to yours when he’s inside you, eyes closed, jaw clenched. 

Joel’s mouth parts, he groans into you. 

It’s enough. 

“Did you know that crows mate for life?”

Joel looks over at you. 

Morning is sitting heavily on the windowsill, watching. 

His limbs are heavy, sleep pulling at the corners of his vision, darkening the room and dampening the sound of the still falling rain. Your bed is comfortable, and your naked skin pressed to his even more so. “No,” he answers after a minute, just looking at the picture of you, plush curves, the soft spill of softer skin. “Do they?” 

You roll onto your side, watchful eyes riveted to him. Slowly, maybe a little shyly, you stretch your arm across his belly. Your fingertips brush his side, and you use the grip to pull yourself even closer. The light is kind to you. You glow in it, lips swollen, the discoloration on your throat from his lips and beard highlighted. 

Joel touches you there. You close your eyes for a moment. 

“They do. They’re real social creatures, and when their mate dies they make this god awful noise. Sometimes they’ll carry sticks and stones and stuff to leave with the body, like a burial.”

“Mm. Not so different from people.” He thinks of Sarah, the last rise and fall of her chest, the noise that came out of him like something wrenched out of the bottom of his soul. He clears his throat but his voice still cracks a little. “Yeah, reckon we’re the same that way.” 

You prop your chin on his shoulder. “Yeah,” you say, voice soft. “There used to be a flock that came around. Or, whatever they’re called, a murder, I think.” 

“Murder?” He chuckles and you smile and it’s enough. 

“Never heard of a murder of crows? Well, it’s true. The backyard was full of ‘em. For a long time, I fed ‘em. And they’d bring presents to me. Eventually they musta moved on, but a pair stayed. I know I sound crazy but I could tell they were in love. They were mated anyhow, even if they don’t feel love like people do.” You lean into his hand when he presses it to your cheek, like his skin isn’t rough and dry from working so hard, from the long, bitter winter; you lean in like it means something, like the pass of his thumb against the crest of your cheek means more to you than he can know.

He doesn’t know a thing about crows. It doesn’t really matter that he doesn’t, he has a feeling he already knows what you’re going to say. 

The limbo he’s been in for weeks has finally ended, of knowing you wanted him to leave but not able to figure out how to give you what you wanted and feeling guilty for it. Just another person he couldn’t figure out how to love right.

Maybe this time hanging on was the right thing to do.

Your eyes flutter closed, head tilted close to his on the pillow, the swell of your body pressed to his. “It went on like that for years. I fed them and they brought me little gifts and everything was fine. And then one morning, there was only one. They mate for life. I never saw the other one again, and it was only a couple weeks, before the other one was gone too. It died.” 

Joel leans in, presses his forehead to yours, the rain a painful tattoo against the roof and the windows and the whole wide world. You push into him, returning the comforting pressure, your skin still tacky with sweat. “So you see, I try to avoid being the second crow. But it just means I end up alone and wondering why there was never another crow in the first place.” Your eyes flick open and search his. “So, I’m sorry about everything. I never realize I’m — I don’t know I’m pushing until it’s too late. And I’ve never been good at holdin’ on.”

“I guess I’ve never been too good at lettin’ go,” he admits. “I’m the second crow.” 

“I don’t want you to be,” you say. “I don’t want you to be the one left behind. And I don’t want you to leave.” 

He nods and looks up at your ceiling. Carefully, you slide closer, until your head is heavy against his chest.  

Things change a little. 

The rain stops and with it you stop pacing through the nights. Before, he’d listen to the pace of your footsteps against his ceiling, the crack of old floorboards and the snaking sound of water down window panes. 

You make every pretense of things being the same until night comes along and you ask him to stay with you. “I just won’t be able to stand it,” you say, nervous hands fisting around the edges of your sleeves. “If you go back to being just a guest. You mean more than that.”

He’s embarrassed to hear it, and likes to hear it all the same.  

So, now, he listens to the long overdue hum of springtime insects nestled down into long sweet grass and between the branches of gently swaying trees, like all that snow and rain and blizzards and flooding never existed in the first place. 

Most of all he listens to your breathing, slow and even, to replace the sound of your footsteps. The curve of your spine rests against his bicep, the ridge of it like the comforting heel of the mountains beyond your windows. 

When he turns and tucks his arms around you, you relax and melt into him so easily it’s like it’s always been done. 

So it goes, every single night. 

Winter is over, spring arrives quiet.

Joel agrees to go to the town festival with you. Tiny, even by your standards, apparently. 

Just some drinking and dancing and live music from a local band. A few games, for which the prizes are all donated.

Things go fine. 

He doesn’t mind crowds, though he does prefer to hang on the edges of them. 

The night is mild. Your arm repeatedly brushes his. 

Joel finds he doesn’t mind that either, the way you stand so close and look at just him. There’s no shortage of eyes on either of you. And when you kiss him, he can practically feel the small town gossip sparkling and wasping in the air like lightning gold, like a thousand bees. 

You don’t seem to notice, or maybe you don’t much care. Maybe you’re used to it. 

Either way, you’re happy, and that matters to him. It matters to him that you’re happy, and safe, and that you feel those things with him.

“If you’re still here when its warm enough,” you say, “you’ll have to go swimming in the lake. It’s real nice down there.” 

It already feels like summer. The air is balmy, the sinking, fading sun he feels like he hadn’t seen in months a red blaze on the horizon. 

“Where else would I be?” 

You give him a funny look and sip your drink, enthusiastically greeting a couple who approaches. Joel nods at them, takes a swig of his beer, and thinks of his kid. Sarah would have loved this kind of thing, all the people and noise. 

He hasn't been hunting in weeks.

“You wanna dance with me?” You smile at him. “Just for one song.” 

“Think I’ll say no?” 

“I’m actually sure that you’ll say no, Joel.” 

He just sets his drink down and offers you a hand. You grin so wide, it looks like it must hurt your cheeks. You don’t dance so much as sway together, pressed tightly together.

“Where else would I be?” He asks again. 

“Somewhere else, I guess. Back home.” 

Home. He hasn’t had one of those since Sarah died. 

This place, as brutal an introduction as he’s had to it, is starting to feel like home. He wants to see the lake in the summer and the trees thick with leaves. The hills probably look beautiful, emerald forests not yet torn up for the things that laid beneath. 

It only feels a little like a push. 

Instead, he just says, “Yeah. Sure.” 

You tip your chin heavily against his shoulder, the weight of your head comforting in its press there. 

You aren’t always good about it. There’s a mean streak in you when you feel trapped. Today, you try. 

“I’d like it if you stayed.” You say it against his throat, your fingers tangled into his hair, the movement of your hand fond. “If you wanted this to be home for a while.” 

He nods, squeezes your hips. “And you should come see Austin. Instead of hearin’ about it. Reckon you might like it.” 

“I think I probably would.” 

The next morning, he calls his brother for the first time in over a year. 

If you read this far, you have no idea how much I appreciate it. Thank you for reading and being here, and as always would love to hear anything you have to share. 💕

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

[samthestrangerthingsfan]

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: frienemies-to-lovers, kinda mean!Eddie? shy!reader, swearing, a lil smoochin', mentions of lack of confidence and poor self image, cute nicknames

a/n: hi bb, will you be my valentine? I don't love writing mean!eddie but its okay because we can always fix him :)

Valentine’s Day.

A day which the Hawkins High elite are positively buzzing over the plethora of cheap red and pink decorations.

Cheerleaders swoon over poorly constructed cards from their popular boyfriends, while dozens of obnoxious mylar balloons take up way too much space in the already crowded hallways.

Beyond the 14th of February, the reason for all the excitement was the annual Hawkins High Valentine’s Day dance—of which you were head of the committee.

Was it because you were the only Senior to volunteer their time to coordinating it instead of attending it? Maybe, but at least it gave you a reason to show up to the dance without a date.

...and avoid looking like the pitiful wallflower you are.

You also knew you’d have no time to rush home and get ready after your last class, so here you are. Standing outside of the AV Club door, decked out in your new crushed-velvet dress. It's ruby red and dangerously short.

This was definitely out of your comfort zone. You typically preferred to be invisible. It’s easier that way; no one can hurt what they can’t see. Right?

But when this dress caught your eye in the mall shop window, it was the first time you could ever remember wanting to be seen. Wanting to try to look like the pretty girls who walk the halls everyday vying for the attention of others.

The dance gave you the perfect excuse. Sure, it’s not like you had a date or anyone asking you to go, but you felt so beautiful. The way the dress hugged your body made all the staring and whispering as you walked down the hallway so, so worth it.

“Hey—whoa…” Dustin’s voice dropped when he walked around the corner, arms full of equipment. “Y-you look fantastic!” He said proudly.

Dustin was your favorite Freshmen, always kind and happy to see you.

“Aw, thanks Dusty! You don’t think it’s too much?” You lifted your boot, inspecting it falsely.

Dustin smiled, “It’s too much for 6th period Spanish, but not for Valentine’s Day that’s for sure.”

He unlocked the door, and held it for you.

Dusting grabbed a pen and paper to write down what you’d need the AV Club’s help with after school.

With hands on your hips, you looked around the room. “Okay, so I definitely need the projector, and if you could set it up before—“

An annoying, loud, cocky voice cut you off. “Henderson! What the hell is takin’ you so long?”

Eddie fucking Munson.

You watched as he sauntered into the room, DIO jacket and all. He clapped Dustin on the shoulders before turning his gaze to you.

“Holy shit. That you, Mouse?”

Mouse. A nickname you loathed.

You’d made the mistake of sitting at the Hellfire table your Freshman year, and he’s never let let you live it down. Once Eddie saw just how shy you were, he made it his mission to get under your skin.

He'd plopped down into the seat next to you, assuming you were there to cause him and the guys trouble. “New girl’s trying to get in good with the freaks, hm?”

You jumped and began to frantically pack your belongings, “I-I…I didn’t know. I’m sorry, I’ll just go—"

When he realized you were nervous, he changed his tone. No longer was he on edge, but rather trying to make you laugh. Show you it's okay to give him a taste of his own medicine. “No no, little mouse. You’re not scurrying away that easily.”

Four years later, you’re both still here and Eddie’s been a thorn in your side ever since. You thought you'd be rid of him once he graduated, but he flunked--twice. Condemning you to another year full of his nonsense.

His obnoxious, overly-confident, doe-eyed nonsense.

“Munson.” You couldn’t help the eye roll. “Dustin and I are working on something so,” you flicked your hand toward the door. “Skedaddle.”

“Oof,” he teased. “You kiss your mother with that potty mouth?”

Eddie walked past Dustin, hands on his hips as he took you in. “Why, may I ask, are you dressed so fancy, princess? Hot date with a frog?”

Okay, guess we’re playing this game.

“The only frog I know is you, Munson.”

His hand flew to his heart. “You hear this, Henderson? Who knew Mouse could be such a brat?”

“If you’ll excuse me,” you attempt to sidestep him, but he blocks your path. Big brown eyes watching your every move. “Don’t you have anything better to do than push my buttons?” It’s a pitiful gripe. You know he enjoys this far too much.

“C’mon, sweetheart. If I didn’t talk to you, who the hell would?”

Ouch.

Something no doubt said in jest, but it hurt to realize just how right he was. You had tons of acquaintances, and you got along great with the teachers. As for friends, the well's a bit dry in that department.

You cleared away the tightness in you throat. “Yeah, I don’t have time for this. I’m actually contributing to society. How about you?” Your face was twisted into a sarcastic smile, attempting to hide the hurt.

Eddie on the other hand thought the two of you were simply playing your favorite game. Seeing just how flustered he could make you before you gave him a taste of his own medicine.

“Yeah, you’re a real Nancy Reagan.” He laughed, gesturing to your dress.

Your eyes honed in on him. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means,” he reached out, sweeping a piece of hair off of your cheek. “If you wanted a little attention, you didn’t have to do all this.”

This.

Said as if the word tasted rotten. Disgusted by what you’d considered to be you at your most beautiful.

I must look like a fucking fool.

The stinging in your eyes got stronger every second you stood in his presence. Your gaze locked onto the floor, following your feet as you left. “Bye, Dustin. I’ll see you later.”

Dustin protested, calling you back before turning his disappointed glare to Eddie.

“Dude…” he chided.

Eddie scoffed, “What? Henderson I was joking—she knows that, okay? That’s our whole thing.”

"Eddie, she was crying!"

Were you? No, no way. This is what the two of you do.

"No, she wasn't." He said unconvincingly. "You don't know her like I do, little buddy. She's a good girl, loves the cat-and-mouse of it all." Eddie wasn't sure if he was trying to convince himself or Dustin.

Eddie had a fuck of a time in O'Donnell's class, and now on top of all of that, he's late to set up Hellfire.

He moved a bit quicker down the hall, easy enough since most of the school left to get ready for the Desperate Dance. He intentionally always schedules DND on nights like this, that way he'd never have to be caught dead--

Eddie's stopped in his tracks at the sight of the trashcan at the end of the hall. He spots a familiar piece of red fabric hanging out of the bin.

He pulled it like a magician, revealing more and more of the velvet clothing until its fully removed,

A dress.

Your dress.

Why the fuck did you throw it in the trash? You we're the most confident Eddie had ever seen you while you wore this thing.

...and you looked drop dead gorgeous, but that's beside the point.

He heard your voice coming from the gym, and abandoned all thoughts of DND.

Eddie burst through the double doors, ignoring the frilly pink and red decorations for the dance. He weaved between the underclassmen carefully setting up the tables and backdrops to make his way over to you.

You, who now instead of being in your beautiful fucking dress, are in you school-supplied gym uniform. Your hair was pulled back, no longer falling in the perfectly natural way you had it earlier. Your makeup was gone--Eddie didn't mind that, he didn't think you needed it anyway.

But you'd never looked so small to him.

He called your name more gently than you've ever heard him speak. When you turned and saw your dress in his grip, you wanted to disappear.

Had he come to gloat?

"Why the hell was this in the trash?" he's not smirking, or sarcastic when he says it.

"Didn't like it." It's all the pain in your throat will let you get out.

You walk away from him, hurrying to find something else to do beside stand there and be made fun of by Eddie Munson.

"Bullshit," he calls after you, quick on your heels. "You don't wear a dress like this and look the way you look in it and just decide you don't like it."

You could feel the tears returning as soon as you stopped walking. "I don't know what you wanna hear," your back was to Eddie, but you felt his gaze regardless. "I just didn't like it...anymore, okay?"

The fake organization of the ribbons in front of you didn't deter him, he remained behind you in silence until he couldn't take it anymore.

"Did...did I say something? Earlier, in the AV Club." He spoke so softly, and with such sincerity, you'd never know it was Eddie talking to you.

You sniffled, angry at yourself for letting him hear how upset you were. "I don't know what you mean."

"Henderson," He's quick on your heels. "Henderson said you were crying when you left."

You don't--can't say anything. Trying desperately to will the tightness in your throat to go away and the tears to dry before they fall from your eyes. A small, shaking breath passes your lips.

"Please look at me, Mouse." His voice is hushed when he calls out to you.

You turn to him begrudgingly. Hoping if he saw the mess he made he'd leave well enough alone.

But when he sees your face, with red eyes and damp tear-stained cheeks, his heart falls into his stomach.

"Oh, oh sweetheart--"

You beat him to it. "I'm fine, Munson. Just...just give me the stupid thing, okay? I'm better off invisible, anyway."

"You've never been invisible to me." Eddie hands you the dress, and watches as you wring it between your hands. "I'm sorry, Mouse."

You scoff, "You didn't--"

"Yes I did," He says firmly. Eddie steps into you, closer than he's been before. "I made an asinine comment thinking we were playing our little game, but it's not a game if someone gets hurt, especially you."

Eddie swipes away the tear on your cheek with the pad of his thumb. "You looked beautiful. You're always beautiful, but that dress? Honey, I couldn't think straight. I'm a dumbass half the time, but I turned into a god damned Neanderthal when I saw you in that."

Your brain couldn't process what was happening. It almost sounded like Eddie...liked you?

"I thought," You looked down, embarrassed to even say it out loud. "I finally felt pretty, pretty enough to be seen and not just in the background."

Eddie's brow softens at your words, "Mouse, I see you. You're one of the only things I look for throughout the day. Always lookin' out for the pretty shy girl with the smile that makes me go weak in the knees."

You laugh at that. "I guess I always look for the obnoxious metal head that's way too good at getting under my skin."

Eddie chest rumbles with a laugh, too. "You're too good at calling me on my crap, what do you expect me to do?"

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you, and it has Eddie clearing his throat. "Can--can I give you a hug? Hate that I made my favorite girl cry."

The smile on your face speaks volumes, but you nod anyway.

When you're wrapped in Eddie's arms, his warmth seeps through your bones, relieving any tension or nerves. His scent invades your senses, warming your belly and heart. You melt into him completely.

Eddie can't believe how well you fit in his arms, like a damn puzzle piece if you asked him. He smells you shampoo, and memorizes the fragrance, filing it away in his mind as his new favorite smell.

When you pull back, he leans his forehead on yours. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I really am."

You nod, moving his head a bit as it rests on yours. "I know."

Eddie steps away, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Ya know, uh, if you're not busy, I'm running a DND campaign tonight. I'd love it if you sat in and maybe after...I don't know, maybe I could take you to Benny's?"

You smirked, eyes narrowing at him. "You asking me out, Munson?"

His eyes widened in sheer panic, "Oh--oh my God, I read this all wrong, huh? Please just forget--"

You're quick to ease his worry. "I'd love too."

Putting the dress on the table, you offer Eddie your hand. "Show me the way, Dungeon Master."

He takes it eagerly, but doesn't walk anywhere yet.

"Eddie?" You giggle.

"One second, princess. Damn knees turned to jelly again."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson

[zepskies]

Big & Tall

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: You steal Sam’s shirt. But that simple theft comes at a big price.

Request: Can you write something where Sam notices the reader wearing his shirt?

Song Inspo: “Look At You” by Screaming Trees

Word Count: 2,200

Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Fluff, thievery, kitchen shenanigans, implied smut, tinge of angst and feels.

It was an honest mistake, really.

After the latest hunt, Sam graciously offered to let you wash your clothes here in the bunker (since most of them were bloodstained). You had to pull a finished load from the dryer before you could use it, not knowing if it was Sam or Dean’s clothes you were shoving into a nearby basket.

When you later went back for your clothes in the dryer, you’d apparently grabbed one of Sam’s black undershirts in all the fabric shuffling.

An accident. Though you hadn’t realized it until you were back in the comfort of your borrowed room in the bunker, sitting on your bed and folding your laundry.

You pulled out one of those big-and-talls and took one good look—and you knew it could only fit perfectly on Sam Winchester’s extra-long torso.

A smile unconsciously drew across your face.

You knew you should just bring it over to him. His room was a mere two doors down the hall…but instead, you gave into the quiet, secret urge to fold it up and put it with the rest of your laundry, knowing full well you were going to use it from now on as a sleep shirt.

The thing was so long it reached halfway down your thighs. (AKA: the perfect length.) But you really didn’t think he would miss an old-ass undershirt like this one.

The next morning, you made sure you were dressed in some pajama pants, your most comfortable bra, and an old college shirt before you ventured out of your room and into the kitchen.

Predictably, Sam was already up and dressed for the day, making some coffee. It was early enough that Dean was likely asleep, or at least still getting himself together.

Sam turned and greeted you with a smile. “Morning.”

“Mhmm,” you nodded groggily, though you offered him a “pleasant” smile before you accepted a coffee mug from him.

Sam’s smile deepened slightly. He knew you weren’t a morning person. He sipped at his own mug while you held yours with both hands, raising it slowly to your lips. You closed your eyes at its hazelnut warmth; trust him to stock the fridge with your favorite creamer. You hummed in delight.

Sam’s gaze was warm on you too, though you didn’t realize it.

“Hey, uh…we’re running low on stuff. Want to go somewhere for breakfast?” he asked.

You met his gaze and had to stifle your smile this time.

“Sure,” you nodded. “Want to wait for Dean?”

Sam shrugged. “We can bring him something back.”

Interesting. Your smile grew, despite your best efforts.

“Okay. Let me just get dressed,” you said.

And maybe you’d put a little makeup on, fix your frizzy bedhead. Apparently you and Sam were going on a brunch date.

Not a real one though, you rolled your eyes at yourself as you trekked down the hall. You had known the Winchesters for a couple of years now, and had gone through some real scrapes together whenever they needed your help, or vice versa. They were quickly becoming part of your people. Your family.

…But never more than that, it seemed.

Your smile slowly fell before you reached your room. You just couldn’t know that Sam was staring after you, down the hall, with a similar contemplation on his face.

“Think Dean’ll crap his pants when he sees the Impala’s gone?” you remarked. You were the passenger while Sam drove. You knew he must've been savoring this, as it was one of the few times he’d ever sat in that seat.

“I left him a note,” Sam replied in amusement.

“Aw, damn,” you teased. “Here I thought we were going on Mission Impossible.”

He shook his head, but his smile kicked up at the corners. He paused when something occurred to him. 

“Hey, by the way.” He turned to you in askance. “Did you happen to see one of my shirts when you were doing laundry yesterday?”

You perked up internally, but you tried to school your features into something more nonchalant. Casual. Yeah.

“Uh, no,” you replied. Somehow, even that small lie made you feel a prickle of guilt. “What color was it?”

“Black,” he said. Good thing he was focused on pulling into the diner’s parking lot, and not on your blushing face. “Can’t seem to find it.”

You averted your gaze and bit the inside of your lip so you wouldn’t smile.

“Sorry, haven’t seen it. I’ll keep a lookout though.”

After a nice morning with Sam (you brought back a breakfast burrito for Dean), you spent the rest of the day catching up on Game of Thrones with the brothers.

It was nice to have a rare day off, even if you spent most of it trying to ignore how your thigh was resting against Sam’s. How you could feel his warmth radiating from his arm, laid behind your head on the couch, and how if you’d just leaned over a few inches, you could’ve been resting against his flannel-covered chest.

God. You’re such a girl, you inwardly lamented at yourself. Fucking c’est la vie.

At their insistence, you spent another night at the bunker while you rested up. That werewolf hunt had been particularly brutal on everyone, especially your wounded side. It was already starting to heal, but would definitely be uncomfortable while driving.

Now, ordinarily you weren’t one to let that keep you down…though it did give you an excuse to stay a little while longer.

When you all finally called it a night, you took a long, hot shower and pulled on the shirt over your underwear. It now kind of felt like contraband, but that thought also amused you. It also made you feel closer to him, in whatever small, pathetic way.

You spent the next couple of hours trying and failing to fall asleep in your room. You tried listening to music, daydreaming, even counting damn sheep for what that was worth, but your brain was wide awake. 

You blew out an irritated sigh into the darkness and silence.

And then your stomach growled. Ugh, fine!

You got up. It was late enough at night that you didn’t bother changing clothes, lest you be spotted by a wild moose. You just padded out barefooted down the hall and into the kitchen, where you raided the fridge.

Geez, Sam was right about them being low on options, you thought as you perused a damn near empty fridge. There was milk and creamer, a couple cases of beer (of course), some crumpled ketchup packets, and a half-eaten burger that already had something fuzzy growing on it.

This is just sad. You grimaced, but you stuck your head in closer to see if you could find anything in the back. If you only knew about the hot gaze on your ass.

“Midnight snack?”

The voice, though familiar, startled the shit out of you. You banged your head on the edge of the freezer door when you jumped on reflex. You cried out and your hand flew to the back of your head, just before a larger hand covered yours.

You glanced up at found Sam’s handsome face—very apologetic, but somehow silently laughing.

“Uh, sorry. You okay?” he asked.

“Y-Yeah,” you replied. You faltered a bit as you realized how close he’d gotten, staring down at you with those earnest hazel eyes. But those eyes soon dipped and took in the rest of you…clad in only a black shirt that brushed your bare thighs.

You watched it start to compute on his face, in the tilt of his head, and the subtle raise of his brows.

“Is that my shirt?” he asked.

Your lips twitched, despite your blushing embarrassment.

“No,” you replied.

His gaze flicked up to yours. He smiled a little incredulously.

He knew you were a filthy liar. But you slipped your hand from under his and crossed your arms under your breasts, leading him to drop his hand from your hair.

“It’s soft…and comfy,” you said lamely. And you wished it smelled like him.

Sam was amused, and a little surprised…and undoubtedly turned on. He couldn’t help but notice your bare legs, the smooth expanse of skin, the suggestion of curves under his shirt, and the firm peaks of your nipples through the fabric.

“Okay. You can keep it,” he said, when his gaze finally drew back up to yours. “For a price.”

Your face felt hot. Your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth for a moment, but somehow you managed to answer him.

“Name it,” you said gamely. Your stance became an unspoken challenge.

Sam’s lips drew closer to a smile.

He reached for your chin and tilted your face up towards his. There was a moment of uncertainty there, as if he was giving you time to pull away, if you wanted to.

The truth was, you were holding your breath. It felt like you’d been waiting a small eternity for this exact moment.

Your arms uncrossed. Slowly you reached for him, grabbing onto the front of his blue flannel, and he bent down to you. When his lips finally touched yours, it almost short-circuited your brain. You inhaled deeply and melted a bit, raising your hand to the back of his head to keep him there.

You felt the gentle way he caressed your cheek, and later the strength in his hands when he molded them to the curve of your waist and pulled you in close. You wrapped your arms around his neck in response, and the kiss became a fierce, sloppy meeting of lips.

His tongue swept across your bottom lip and sought entrance. You welcomed him in with a wordless moan.

Your fingers slipped into his hair, nails grazing his scalp. It earned you a deep sound of pleasure from his mouth into yours. Soon enough, those same strong hands were roaming down your waist and hips, then squeezing your ass, and pressing you against the hard planes of his body. You also felt the hardening length of him against your stomach.

“Sam,” you gasped against his lips.

That seemed to pull him out of the frenzied haze. Panting for breath though he was, he broke from you, pulling away far enough to look down at you with furrowed brows. There was a question in his eyes that he still voiced.

“Too much?” he asked.

It was a loaded question, but you thought you could read them all.

Do you want this? Do you really want me? We can stop…

Your answer was simple. You pulled yourself up on your toes and claimed his lips with a devouring kiss. Sam’s eyes closed on a sharp inhale, but his hold on you tightened again. He bent down to move his hands down the back of your thighs, and he squeezed twice, wordlessly encouraging you to jump for him.

You had electricity in your veins and a warm pulsing between your thighs. In your frazzled state, you did your best to jump up, but he helped you the rest of the way. You were able to wrap your legs around his waist, though you let out a small yelp at being vaulted so high.

Now you had the rare privilege of looking down at Sam’s amused face. You smiled down at him, caressing his cheek.

“I think I want a tour of your room,” you said.

“Good,” Sam replied. Despite the care he took in how he held you, you saw the hunger in his eyes. “I could go for a midnight snack.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at that. You clung to his shoulders as he carried you down the hall and into his room, where he locked the door behind him.

The man was a furnace, you discovered, after your skin was dewy and glistening against his, and the sheets laid tangled between your bare legs.

He held you to his chest while he recovered on his back. You rested there, just enjoying the sound of his heartbeat slowly coming down from its race. His fingertips traced lazy patterns up and down your naked back.

Sam had taken great pleasure in tossing the shirt along with his other clothes onto the floor. Your panties had been flung to parts unknown.

You smiled at the thought, while your nails made delicate tracks of their own across his slightly furry chest.

“What’re you thinking?” he asked you. Quiet and steady.

With a sigh, you pushed up onto your elbow on his pillow, so you could see his face. Your hand found his cheek. There his stubble pricked against your palm, and you drew your thumb tenderly across his his lower lip.

“I’m hoping you want more from this than one…very awesome night,” you confessed.

Sam smiled, reaching up to grasp your wrist gently. It was a different kind of touch, where just a few moments ago, he’d pushed your body damn near to its limits. And yet, he knew his own strength. Controlled, even in his bed.

“Yeah, I do,” he replied, though his eyes gradually fell from your face. “I’ll be honest, it uh…scares me a little.”

“What does?” you asked with a frown. You waited until he looked up at you again.

“This matters to me,” he said at last. “You matter to me.”

And the people that mattered all too often got taken away from him.

Your throat constricted. Because in his wary eyes, you could almost see the thoughts that were likely plaguing his mind. Things that might’ve kept him from this night with you for so long.

In that moment, you made a decision. You lowered down to press a gentler kiss to his lips.

“Then let’s give it a try,” you said.

AN: It got a little angstier than I intended there at the end lol, but I went with it! I so hope you guys enjoy this. I love me some Sam. 💜

Sam Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @siampie @violetlilysunshine @nic-kolas @hobby27 @idiotdyslexic

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#big and tall #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x female reader #spn #reader request #stealing Sam's shirt #supernatural #sam winchester smuttish #fluff #tinge of angst #zepskies writes

[d1xonss]

Older | Part 2

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 6

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : ⚠️Smut (18+)

✧ Word Count : 8.7k

AN ~ Ask and you shall receive:)) I also made sure to tag a few people that seemed to really like the last one! ps- This is my first time ever attempting to write actual smut so it's safe to say I am extremely nervous to put this out there. Writing smut vs reading smut are very two different things I've come to find out lol. But I hope it's good enough and I hope you guys like it!

(Make sure to read part 1 first if you haven’t already!!)

The night before had been a whirlwind of different emotions. Something you weren’t totally expecting. But it happened. He was practically begging you, seconds from getting down on his knees to plead. But then you were unexpectedly dragged away from the whole interaction, and you hadn’t seen him since.

It was a lot to take in. Though at the same time it really wasn’t. You had what you wanted now laying in the palm of your hand, all you really had to do now was act on it. He expressed how he felt about you, told you just how much he wanted you just as you wanted him, you heard everything you wanted to hear. And in your mind, you didn’t want to drag it out any further than you already had. Because you had to admit, you found yourself growing just as desperate as he was at just the mere thought of him. The thought of him beneath you, panting and groaning, it was getting you all worked up as you daydreamed about it. But it didn’t have to be a daydream, not anymore.

You didn’t know what you completely planned to do yet, but a thought crossed your mind about inviting him over to your house, maybe for dinner. The setting would be perfect, the timing would be perfect, and you knew that he would be perfect. It was really all about finding him now to ask him officially, to which you knew he would say yes. But you also slowly realized that you had absolutely nothing left in your house to cook. So you decided to make a quick trip down to the pantry, to pick up just a few simple things as you went over in your head over the options you could make.

Though unbeknownst to you, Daryl was pacing around in his own home, thinking wildly about the whole interaction just a few hours prior. The things he said, the way he sounded. He felt like such an idiot now, knowing that the whole thing was pretty much ruined ever since Carol took you by the arm and away from him. Practically hogging you for the entire rest of the night. He didn’t know how to fix this, but what seemed to be worrying him the most was he didn’t exactly know whether or not you were going to agree. It was hard to tell in the moment, but thinking back on it now, it really could’ve gone either way in his mind.

But suddenly, the man stopped in his tracks as movement outside his window seemed to catch his attention. It was you. Making your way down the streets and heading straight for the pantry it seemed like. He stood frozen for what felt like hours, thinking over how he should approach it, or if he should even approach it at all. The thoughts clouding his mind were enough to make his head spin, but ultimately the older man did know what he wanted. You knew what he wanted. He just confessed every little thing last night, he figured now the least he could do now was talk to you about it.

So with that, he rushed out of his house in hopes of catching you before you had a chance to leave the building, hoping that the pantry itself was free of anyone else so he could speak with you privately. His steps were fast and heavy, his worn boots slapping on the concrete with how fast he appeared to move. In just a split second he was already at the front door, opening it a bit quietly to peer inside, seeing your back facing him as you picked through the food, taking note that there was no one else around.

He stepped in the space as silently as he could, approaching you almost with caution it seemed like as he couldn’t pull his eyes away from you. Though the man couldn’t see your face, a smirk was playing on your lips as you knew of his presence the moment he stepped through the door. For a hunter he sure was awfully loud, but perhaps he was just so nervous he didn’t even know how loud he was being.

“It’s not polite to stare.”

The man froze right where he was at the sound of your voice, his eyes widening once he realized how easily you had caught him. He still couldn’t take his eyes off of your however even if you claimed it wasn’t respectful, watching as you turned around to face him with a warm and sweet smile as you always did.

“Hi Daryl.”

His heart jumped a little at you using his name the way you were, hearing your voice alone was enough to bring a small smile to his face as he looked at you, “Hey.”

He watched as you approached him further, standing in front of him now as you tilted your head a little in question, “What brings you down here?” you asked, your tone clear and knowing.

He felt like he had just been caught once more, knowing that you might’ve figured out that he had come down here just to see you, talk to you. He decided now he had to come up with some sort of lie to get him out of his tension, to make it seem like the situation was all in your head. “I just…uh…I was just comin down for some stuff m’ runnin low on back at the house.” he said almost confidently.

Your face then dropped a little at his answer, though you knew he was lying, you decided to play into it, “Oh…you mean you didn’t come all this way to see me?”

His eyes widened a little upon seeing the hurt look you had on your face, “N-No, I-...I mean…” he trailed off with a sigh, wondering how the hell he managed to already fuck this up when he had been down here with you for about thirty seconds. “I…I did.” he finally admitted.

A slow smirk was brought to your face at his sudden switch in honesty, “I know.” you teased, brushing past him lightly to look at the vegetables just behind him.

The man felt his cheeks heat up drastically, not only that you knew the real reason he came down here to begin with, but the way you barely brushed up against him as you passed. This whole thing was nearly torture at this point as he groaned a little to himself, turning to look at you again.

“God damn it woman…” he said as he moved up next to you, “Yer killing me, ya know that?”

He heard you hum a little to yourself as your eyes never moved away from the plethora of food in front of you as you scanned through them, “Am I?” you asked, your tone coming out almost innocent.

Daryl found himself swallowing thickly as he shook his head, “Yes…ya really are.”

You hummed again in acknowledgement as you finished putting a few things in some kind of woven basket around your arm, before turning to fully face him, “It’s still wrong you know…” you said obviously.

When he hears you state the lone and knowing fact, he can’t help but silently agree. He knew how wrong it was, even without you having to remind him he was well aware of the situation he was placed in. The age difference was big, you were still so much younger than he was and he knew that his lingering thoughts about you were very wrong. But if it was so wrong, then how come he still wanted you? So badly.

He then huffed a little at your statement, “Yeah…it’s still wrong. What if…what if we got caught or some shit? I know it’s all…too risky. And…we’d probably feel guilty if anyone found out about it, right?”

You nodded along to everything he was saying, “...Right.”

But even after saying all that, clarifying how bad this all was to even consider it, a part of him still didn’t care. He laid everything out before you, he had already admitted everything and all the two of you had talked about thus far was everything negative about the situation. That wasn’t what he wanted, and surely it couldn’t have been what you wanted either. Though he couldn’t read your mind, he couldn’t just ignore the slightly disappointed look on your face at the conclusion you assumed you both came to.

“...But…” he started, not knowing how to word exactly what he was feeling.

Your interest piqued however, wanting him to say it, “But?”

His eyes meet your with a mixture of softness and hunger, stepping forward a bit as his confidence took over him so suddenly, “But I don’t give a fuck about how wrong it is. If ya really wanna know how I see it…to me it feels like the only right thing in the whole damn world.”

You felt as if your heart stilled, actually wondering to yourself if any of this was even real. You had been practically dreaming of this moment for years, craving and wanting him so badly for what felt like decades. And now it was unfolding right before your very eyes. For some reason, this statement alone had you sold, not needing to hear another word to know how much he truly wanted this. Last night he almost looked filled with lust and would say just about anything for you to give in. But this right here was different. A determination of some kind that you hadn’t seen from him before.

You were silent for a long moment as you collected your thoughts, worrying the older man slightly as the two of you stood there facing each other awkwardly. That is until your face broke out into a smile, tilting your head a bit at him as you finally spoke.

“Are you free tonight?”

Daryl’s mouth parted a bit in shock as he blinked a few times in utter disbelief, questioning to himself if he even heard you right at all. But all he could do in that moment was nod his head, finding his mouth completely dry as he didn’t even want to attempt to speak.

“Good.” you smirked before gesturing down to what was in your hands, “I’m making dinner. I think it would be nice for you to join me so we could…discuss this some more.”

His head bobbed up and down frantically, his ears turning red at the thought of spending the evening with you, talking about what desperately needed to be considered.

You couldn’t help but smile again at the fact that he hadn’t uttered a word, “Perfect. Come over around seven, yeah?” you said before walking around him towards the exit, heading out the door and down the street to prepare everything, a little pep in your step as you walked.

The man however was rendered completely speechless, standing there frozen like a goddamn statue as if he couldn’t believe that actually happened. But he didn’t want to question it, linger on it for very long before he was suddenly smiling widely to himself, snapping out of whatever trance he was put in to get ready himself. Though he was growing so anxious he hardly couldn’t wait until seven at all, part of him just wanting to go back to your house to spend as much time with you as he could. But he didn’t want to push it. You called the shots. And he would be there at seven.

However the set time could not come soon enough. For the both of you. The remainder of the day just slowly passed by as the seconds dragged on and on for what felt like an entire lifetime. You at least had something to keep you busy, tidying up your house and cooking the dinner you promised as you waited for him to arrive. But he, however, had absolutely nothing to pass the time. He couldn’t go hunting, it was already growing too late for that. There were no patrols for him to get done as every shift was assigned to someone else for the day. 

So he was left sitting there with his racing thoughts. It was both a good and a bad thing he found. Good because he could plan what he wanted to say, what he wanted to do, think over how the night would play out just by the suggestive tone you used when you invited him to begin with. But bad because his mind was stuck wandering to the sinful images of you. How badly he wanted you now, how long it felt like he had been waiting. It was like an eternity, but he found that he would wait centuries for you if it meant you would give into him completely. Anything to just have you.

At seven on the dot, he was on your front step, giving the door a firm knock as he waited patiently for you to answer and let him in. You found yourself smiling as your eyes glanced up to the clock you had on the wall, seemingly impressed that he was here right on time. Though you could almost sense how anxious he was from the moment you left him in the pantry earlier, silently knowing he was just itching to get over here.

You then moved through your house to the front door, finally pulling it open to reveal him in all his glory. But you swallowed a bit thickly taking in what he was wearing. The older boots and black jeans he had on were nothing really new as you had seen him wear those countless times before. It was the dark navy blue button up shirt he had on that caught your attention, the sleeves rolled up to just above his elbows and a few of the top buttons already undone to expose just the beginning of his chest. You could practically feel your mouth watering already and it wasn’t even time for dessert yet.

He however was feeling the same exact way. His eyes trailed over your body, almost in awe as he saw the little black dress you were wearing before him. The straps that sat on your shoulders were a little ruffled and the length of the dress itself was perfect to him, seeing it come up to about your mid thigh. Your hair was perfect as it sat just above your chest, neat and put together as always yet there was something more about it that seemed to catch his eye. You were absolutely glowing, and he couldn’t help the wide smile he gave you the second you opened the door.

“Wow…right on time. I’m impressed.” you said almost proudly.

He chuckled a little as his head ducked down for a moment, “Yeah, well, I guess I was too excited to wait any longer.” he said honestly.

You smirked at him, “Eager aren’t you?” you couldn’t help but tease as you send him a small wink, before opening the door a bit wider and nodding for him to come inside, “Dinner’s almost ready.”

He sucked in a small breath after you winked toward him, already beginning to sweat a little as his nerves were getting to him. Though he quickly stepped inside as you wished, scanning around your house absentmindedly as if he had to somehow distract himself from how nervous he truly was. But just seeing you in that dress alone was enough to send a rush of heat right through him.

“Let me get you something to drink.” your voice spoke sweetly, heading back in towards the kitchen.

The man was quick to follow your lead as you walked, watching how your hips swayed effortlessly back and forth, nearly hypnotizing him. He couldn’t tell if you were doing it on purpose or not, but damn it was really working as he felt himself seemingly get hotter the more he stared. The smell that hit his nose when he entered the kitchen was also incredible however, his eyes moving over to the pot you had over the stove as it was just about done according to you.

You stopped in front of the fridge as you quickly pulled out a bottle of wine, glancing over your shoulder at him with a small smile, “Actually would you mind opening this for me? I just so happen to need a big strong guy to help me.” you flirted.

His eyes fluttered the smallest bit, finding himself nodding immediately as he would help with any little thing you needed from him, “Course…I got ya.” he said as he took it from your hands, finding a bottle opener to get the cork out with a small “pop” before offering to pour it into a few glasses for you as well.

After maneuvering around the kitchen for a moment as the silence shared between you was comfortable, you set the table up with two bowls of soup you had made on either end, while he seemed to wordlessly follow behind you to hand you one of the glasses he had poured. You thanked him quietly, brushing your fingertips against his hand purposefully as you took it from him, before moving over to take a seat. The man let out a small breath at even a sliver of your touch, but snapped out of it quickly as he saw you move to sit down, blinking rapidly as he did the same right across from you.

The silence had grown much thicker now, not being able to avoid what was quite literally sitting in front of either of you. It was so quiet you swore you would be able to hear a pin drop, the tension that now filled the remaining air was growing to be unbearable. The two of you were alone now, out of the public eye and in the privacy of your own home, even you had to admit it was hard to keep yourself together as he kept looking at you a certain way. But you wanted to talk, so you forced yourself to take a breath and just…wait. Though it honestly surprised you that he was the one to break the silence.

“So…discuss things…what exactly did ya mean by that?” he asked as he took a spoonful of soup into his mouth, his eyes never moving away from you as he did so.

You knew how eager he was too, it was written all over his face, and even with the way he slightly shifted in his seat you could tell. But in a certain sense, it brought you a bit of relief knowing that he was just as needy as you were.

You found yourself stirring the soup in front of you absentmindedly as you took your time with your response, “I wanted to talk about last night.”

He raised an eyebrow in your direction as he took a long drink of his wine, swallowing it thickly before responding, “Last night…what about it?”

A small and gentle laugh escaped you at even the mere thought of it, “...How desperate you were.” you stated a bit bluntly, completely changing the atmosphere around you.

Daryl’s face suddenly became a bit flushed with a little embarrassment after you stated the obvious so casually. He almost felt stupid now as his eyes now ducked down to look at the table, noticing your pretty floral tablecloth instead of acknowledging how he completely broke down right in front of you so easily the night prior.

But you wanted to see his eyes, not wanting him to be embarrassed by any of it, “Look at me.” you gently said to get his attention.

Hearing your voice say that command, yet it came out so sweet, he slowly glanced back up toward you. He almost began to feel ashamed, but seeing a glimpse of your face for a split second, told him he shouldn’t be.

“I liked it.”

His entire body seemed to shiver slightly just the mere way you admitted such a thing. He felt himself crumbling all over again, his desperation for you growing further the longer he sat there hearing and stewing over your words. You looked so devious yet so innocent when you spoke, it was almost too unreal to him.

“Really..?” he asked with a breath, almost wanting to hear you say it again as he felt his heart thump even faster than it had been before.

You nodded slowly in response, your eyes narrowing slightly the longer you looked at him, “But I have to know one thing.”

The man quite literally was sitting on the edge of his seat as he waited for you to continue, willing to give you whatever answer you wanted. “Did you mean everything you said?” you asked quietly.

It might’ve been a stupid question to ask, sure. But you needed to be absolutely certain about all of this, needing to know that this wasn’t just going to be the two of you fooling around. You wanted to make sure his feelings for you were real, that he actually cared about you. Because you knew the things you wanted to do next, there would be no going back from it.

He had to admit he was a little thrown off by your question, yet it was a completely valid one to have. And he didn’t have to worry about sounding convincing or needing to play something off. Because his answer was nothing but the truth.

“Yeah…I did.” he said with a firm nod.

Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest hearing how sincere he was with such a simple answer, the only answer you ever wanted or needed to hear. It slid so effortlessly off his tongue that you believed him completely, feeling your breathing pick up just the smallest bit at the returning thoughts of something happening between the two of you.

But to your surprise again, he continued.

“And…before ya say somethin again bout how…it’s wrong for us ta do somethin like this…together.” he trailed off for a moment, almost trying to collect his thoughts, “It might be wrong…but…it just feels…so right.” he said with a heavy breath.

That was it. That right there, was all you needed to hear.

You suddenly got up from out of your seat, watching his eyes widen a little at your movements as he stayed frozen in place where he sat, seeing you come to stand right in front of him. Your body now hovered between the table and his chair as you stood right above him, seeing him gulp a little bit in anticipation. Your hands then came up to move softly across his shoulders, feeling the material of his shirt under your fingers. He let out a soft breath at your touch, looking up at you as if silently begging you to do more, his desire building and resurfacing.

“If we were to do this…it would be a secret…right?” you asked barely above a whisper, your tone sending goosebumps on his skin.

He opened his mouth to answer, before suddenly feeling your hands move up to either side of his neck, swallowing thickly at the new feeling. His mind raced for a moment before he tried desperately to stay focused, even though it felt at this point that you were trying to kill him.

“Right…” he sighed, feeling his breath feather across your face with how close you were to him now, “It would just be our little secret…”

“No one else has to know…yeah?” you asked again as your touch only became more addicting to him.

He nodded frantically again as he felt his skin getting warmer with each passing second, “No one…no one else has to know…just us…”

You smiled at his confirmation, seeing his body nearly quivering at just your hands lingering on the side of his neck, finally decided to not make him wait any longer for your answer. “Okay.” you nodded, moving your hands to caress the sides of his face.

The older man let out a quiet groan at the feeling of your soft hands moving against the light stubble on his cheeks, his jaw, his heart completely racing out of his chest with how close you had become. “God…don’t make this harder than it already is.” he let out a breathy laugh.

You smirked to yourself as you obviously watched him squirm, “But that’s what makes it fun.” you flirted as you tilted your head a bit to the side.

He sighed again deeply as you just seemed to continue to torment him to no end, though he liked it, he wanted more. “Such a tease…” he muttered under his breath.

“Maybe…” you whispered softly with a growing smile, your thumb moving over to trail over his bottom lip, practically dangling a carrot in front of his face. “What do you want?”

He was so clearly struggling to stay still in his seat, fidgeting around restlessly as you still found a way to drag this to a point of pure desperation. His chest heaved and his skin was now not only hot, but felt as if it were on fire. All he wanted was to pull you on top of him and finally end this constant teasing, but he refrained, knowing that all he had to do was be patient. Because even though you were good at hiding it, he could see right through you too, seeing how eager you looked before him.

His mouth parted as he licked his lips, “I want you…I want you so fucking bad…” he spoke quietly, trying to hold still.

Your smirk only grew the longer you looked at him, “What’s the magic word?” you teased again, absolutely loving this sight below you as you could hardly contain yourself.

Daryl felt himself getting even more turned on, aroused at how you continued to play with him even in the last lingering moments. He had completely fallen apart for you again, and he loved it more than he was willing to admit.

“P-Please.” he finally begged, “I need ya…please.”

With that single word alone, you finally caved, lowering yourself down to straddle him as you sat yourself on his lap, your faces even closer than before. He trembled beneath you in anticipation, feeling him getting hard in his jeans the longer you stalled, only proving he secretly adored what you did to him entirely. But it only grew to a point where you couldn’t wait any longer as you finally crashed your lips against his, a euphoric feeling washing over the both of you.

The older man groaned loudly into your mouth as you finally did what he so desperately needed, wrapping his arms around you to press your body even closer to his. Your hands went back to the sides of his neck as his lips began to urgently massage yours, his hands trailing down to grip your hips tightly as you practically rocked against him. You drank each other in, in every possible way as you felt his tongue slowly push past your parted lips, easily slipping inside to explore every inch of your mouth.

You hummed in approval as your hands trailed down to his chest, your delicate touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through him, feeling as though it was all washing over him like some sort of tidal wave. His muscles twitched a little at the feeling, his breath hitching in the back of his throat as he only pulled you in further as if you weren’t close enough, one of his hands moving to cradle the back of your head. You felt his other hand move down further to squeeze your ass gently, sending a surprised gasp from your lips that turned into a quiet sigh.

You both had waited too long for this, getting more antsy with each passing second as the two of you grew even more eager than before if that was even possible.

He pulled away from your reddened lips suddenly, his mouth trailing across your cheek to leave light and delicate pecks across your skin, traveling down towards the skin on the side of your neck. He sucked, licked, and nibbled lightly across the softness of your flesh hurriedly as he searched for that one specific spot, the one spot he knew would surely send you over the edge. Eventually his lips brushed over the skin just beneath your ear, hearing a small gasp from you as he smirked to himself. There it is. The man then paid extra attention to that one spot, sucking on it lightly until you let out a soft moan at his actions, gripping his shoulders tightly as you involuntarily rocked against his hips.

That action alone made him lose all self control as he grunted from the impact, lifting you up in his grasp as he suddenly stood to his feet, trying to ignore the fact that his legs were shaking. You squealed lightly in surprise by his sudden movements, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you feared you might fall as your legs tightened around his waist. But he would never drop you. Never.

He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes blown with lust as his mouth parted to speak, but you cut him off before he even got the chance. “Upstairs on your right.”

His eyes widened the smallest bit as you were able to tell him without him having to ask, chuckling to himself as he placed a few more light kisses on your neck before carrying you up the steps. The man moved at a rapid speed, causing you to hold on tighter as you laughed at his actions, hearing him kick open the door before you were suddenly laid down on the soft mattress. He continued to hover over you, taking in the closeness as much as he could as you gently brought him in to kiss him again, pecking his lips over and over as he chuckled at your affection.

“God, you’re so perfect.” he whispered against your lips, his hand slowly moving up to your breast, squeezing it lightly as his mouth hovered back down toward your neck.

You moaned a little at the feeling, your cheek pressed against his head as your breathing only picked up when he got just the smallest bit rougher. His movements were spurring you on even more as your hands moved towards the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one as quickly as you could.

He chuckled against your skin as he pulled back to look at you with a raised brow, “Eager?” he asked simply with a smirk.

You huffed, “Shut up.” your words came out in a breath, pushing him back a bit as your hands glided over his shoulders, removing the fabric from the upper part of his body. 

He let you do whatever you wanted to him as he sat up a bit on his knees, helping you a little as he fully discarded his shirt onto the ground. You couldn’t help but stare at him a little in awe, his toned chest and arms being fully exposed to you for the first time was something you would surely have to memorize. Your eyes trailed over every part of his skin, even reaching out a little to run your fingers across his chest, sending another shiver of pleasure down his spine as you did so.

Though he couldn’t help but laugh quietly as your eyes were glued to him, “Ya want me to get a camera for ya?” he asked teasingly as he tilted his head a bit.

You let out a breath, “Don’t tempt me.”

He chuckled again, leaning down to peck your lips a few times as his hands traveled down towards the hem of your dress, pulling back the smallest bit to look you in the eyes as if he was silently waiting for permission. That alone caused you to want him even more, nodding your head frantically as you raised your arms, feeling him pull the material up and over your head in one swift motion. You then laid there in nothing but a bra and underwear, his eyes trailing over every part of your skin as his pupils grew drastically.

“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath as his mouth dove back in towards your neck, earning you letting out a sound of surprise as you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck as you closed your eyes at the feeling he provided.

His tongue dragged down the side of your neck, traveling down to your collarbone as he nipped at the area lightly. The feeling of his mouth alone caused a small whimper to escape your lips, only imagining how everything else would feel as he took his time with you. A part of him wanted to savor every moment, cherish it as he had been waiting so long for this to unfold. But another part of him wanted to take you right here right now, practically growling at the thought of you squeezing around his dick. But he did know one thing. He wanted to take care of you first, taste you on his tongue, hear your screams and pleas.

He felt he couldn’t wait any longer as his mind ran, quickly moving his hands to the back of your bra, fumbling with it a bit as it caused you to laugh to yourself a bit as he struggled. He grunted and lowered his mouth to your shoulder to bite you teasingly at your amusement, finally getting it undone and pulling it off of you completely.

You felt the cold air hit your breasts, almost shivering at the feeling as you breathed deeply, but it didn’t last for long as you then felt his hot breath hovering over them. Before you even had a chance to process his next actions, he softly took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the flesh as his hand came up to massage the other.

You let out a breathy moan at the feeling, your head falling back against the pillow as his mouth worked wonders against you. You were so sensitive already, feeling yourself get wetter the longer his tongue was all over you. It almost felt like a dream to you, that all of this was happening so fast. But with the blissful feeling he gave you, you knew it was far from a dream.

His mouth then broke away from your breasts, his tongue trailing down your stomach almost frustratingly slow before he reached the top of your clothed pussy. You felt his lips delicately place a kiss against you, causing you to let out a soft gasp at the feeling, your eyes lightly fluttering.

He then looked up at you again, “You okay?” he asked softly, not wanting to mess anything up. The last thing he wanted was to be too rough with you or do something you weren’t ready for, wanting to make sure you were still okay. But what he wasn’t aware of was your racing thoughts, wanting nothing more than for him to just fuck you right now.

“Yes.” you sighed heavily, “Please…do whatever you want to me.” you breathed as you looked down at him, your expression heavy and desperate.

Seeing this made his worries beforehand suddenly vanish, a new hungry feeling washing over him as a smirk was brought to his face. He then didn’t hesitate to take the waistband of your thong and pull it down your legs, tossing it behind him carelessly as he slowly began to lower himself onto his stomach. The action alone excited you greatly, letting him softly move your thighs open and rest them on the tops of his shoulders, a heat already pooling in your stomach. He saw your wetness glistening even in the darkened room, finally leaning his head down to press a gentle kiss on your clit.

Your mouth fell open at just the littlest feeling, leaning your head back on the pillow as you sucked in a harsh breath. His gaze moved back up to your face as he saw your reaction, spurring him on more as he dipped his head back down to lick slowly down your slit, teasing you as he barely put any pressure at all which is what he knew you needed. A huff passed through your lips as you felt his tongue dart out to slowly continue to lick you up, teasing around your entrance as your hands gripped the bedsheets beside you in anticipation at how long he was taking. But what you weren’t aware of, was that he was doing it on purpose.

“More…” you practically whined as you squirmed a little, swallowing thickly.

His movements stopped completely as he pulled back a little to look up at you, “Ya want more?” he asked, his tone almost condescending, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pay attention to that.

You could only nod your head frantically, needing him now more than ever as your writhed a little right in front of him, begging for his mouth to return to the place you needed him most. But then he spoke again, his words causing you to freeze.

“What’s the magic word?” he repeated, a large smirk crossing his face.

He couldn’t deny that it was just tempting to give you what you wanted right then and there, seeing you squirm was making him twitch in his pants. But everything leading up to this moment was you teasing him, playing with him in a way that was so utterly frustrating. And now seeing your guard fall down instantly as you let him take full control, he couldn’t resist to give you a little taste of your own medicine.

Your head shot up at his words, processing them slowly as your chest heaved up and down more frantically. “Please, please, I need you so bad.” you practically begged as you realized what he was doing.

He chuckled a little as he nodded, knowing he had you right where he wanted you, “Okay, okay…I’ll give ya what ya need angel.” he said sweetly, rubbing your thighs softly as they still rested on either side of his head.

Your mouth parted as you planned to say something else, but the feeling of his lips moving in to suck lightly on your clit, your words seemed to fail you. You instead let out a moan, falling back against the bed as his mouth sent shockwaves through you, nearly making you feel numb. His tongue then darted back out to swirl circles around your sensitive spot, groaning to himself at the sweet taste of you as he trailed down toward your entrance. He lapped up your wetness, gently fucking you with his tongue as you were a full on moaning mess, your hands moving back down to his hair to tug on his locks.

He groaned again to himself at the simple feeling of your fingers through his hair, his pace picking up the smallest bit as he heard the distinct sound of your moans growing a bit louder at the pleasure coursing through you. The tingling sensation you felt in your stomach only grew with each passing second, feeling him kiss and lick you over and over again, an exhilarated feeling washing over you.

Your thighs instinctively squeezed his head as he hit a particularly sensitive spot, and he grunted a little unexpectedly, but he didn’t mind one bit. The feeling of your warm plush thighs pressing firmly on either side of his head sent him into a wave of his own pleasure, loving the sensation. Even if there was a small chance he could suffocate beneath you, the man would easily die happy.

His mouth then traveled back up towards your clit, sucking sensually as he heard the constant sounds of approval from you. Even the feeling of you tugging more at his hair as you desperately somehow needed him closer, that was enough to cause him to pick up his movements. You then felt his finger slide down your slit painfully slow and towards your entrance, finally pushing through to enter you while his mouth was still glued to your clit. 

You let out a strangled moan, “Oh god…yes.” you sighed as your entire body felt like it was burning, in the most pleasurable way you could imagine.

He grunted at your words, the praises falling from your perfect lips only spurred him on more, delicately adding another finger to pump inside your entrance, stretching you out. You panted as your back began to arch off the mattress, feeling the familiar tingles running through your entire body as your orgasm built. Daryl felt you squeezing against his fingers, signaling him to pay more attention to your swollen clit as he silently knew you were close, your sounds growing louder as you then called out his name in such a blissful state. Feeling his fingers curl up inside and hitting that special spot is what sent you over the edge in seconds, moaning sensually as you felt that sting snap inside of you, the feeling so intense you could’ve sworn you saw stars for a moment.

Daryl drew your orgasm out as long as he could, licking everything up before he placed one final kiss onto your clit and slowly removed his fingers from you, smiling almost proudly to himself. Your chest moved up and down rapidly as you tried desperately to catch your breath, eventually opening your eyes to look down at him with a tilt of your head, seeing the smirk he had on his face. Your eyes then widened a bit as he made eye contact with you, before licking his fingers, humming to himself all the while. His actions alone only turned you on all over again, your eyes blown and wide as you watched him intently suck them completely clean.

“Ya taste so damn sweet.” he rasped, leaning in to hover above you to place a few delicate kisses on your cheek, “Ya okay?” 

You sighed in content as you smiled, “Better than okay.” you confirmed, “That was…” you trailed off, not even being able to find the right words to describe the feelings you had felt.

But he smirked as if he knew what you meant, leaning down again to whisper in your ear, “Don’t worry…I ain’t done with ya yet.” he promised.

The words sent a shiver through you as you felt him move away from you momentarily, his hands reaching down to undo his belt in a quick motion before fumbling with the button of his jeans. You sat yourself up on your elbows, watching him almost in anticipation as he maneuvered himself off the bed for a moment, slowly tugging his jeans and boxers down to his ankles before kicking them off completely onto the floor. Your eyes widened ever so slightly at the sight in front of you.

You always knew he was perfect, but now seeing him like this it only made it more real. His dick was full and hard with veins running up the sides of it. You found you couldn’t pull your eyes away, hearing him chuckle to himself in response as he moved himself back onto the mattress, sitting on his knees in front of you again.

This caused you to actually look up at him as you let out a quick breath, “Now I really want that camera.” 

He laughed to himself again, a bit louder than last time as he shook his head at you, leaning down at bit, “Nah…if anything I need one…” he trailed off as he reached out to grip your waist gently, running his touch down to your hips at he stared at you, “So stunning…” he whispered to himself.

Your eyes softened as you looked up at him, reaching up to pull his neck down to connect your lips to his again in response, your mouth gently moving with his as you felt him lower himself even further into you with a sigh. His touch moved up and down your sides gently, leaving almost a ticklish feeling behind before he reached down further to grip his dick in one of his hands, gently moving it to run up and down your slit. You gasped lightly at the feeling, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him even closer as you silently begged for him to keep going. You felt his tip continue to tease you, circling up around your clit a few times as he wanted to hear those little sounds from you all over again. Wanting to play them on repeat if he could. He smirked to himself when he heard the faintest whimper fall from your lips and echo into his mouth.

But then his lips parted from yours as he hovered over you, a serious look to his eyes now as he spoke, “Just tell me if ya need me to stop…yeah?”

You nodded in response, the anticipation building as he saw your approval, moving down to your entrance as he slowly began to push his tip into you. Your mouth parted at the feeling, but it was anything but painful. It was a feeling of satisfaction after all the pent up feelings you had felt for him, you finally welcomed the feeling of him after years of believing it could never happen. But now it was. And you were positive it couldn’t have felt better as you felt yourself practically melt beneath him.

Inch by inch he slowly pushed into you as slowly as he could, not wanting to hurt or make you uncomfortable in any way as he swallowed a strangled groan in the process. Finally you felt you were stuffed full of him, the two of you just staying perfectly still as you both seemingly let out sighs of pleasure at the feeling of one another.

He lowered his head, leaving a trail of kisses on your shoulder and the side of your neck, before he slowly pulled out of you, only to push back in a little quicker than before. A louder moan left your lips as he slapped back into you, causing him to pull back before moving forward again as his hips met yours. A low growl left his lips as he found a perfect pace to keep at, his mouth returning to your neck to suck and lick lightly at your skin as more blissful moans left your lips with each motion you felt.

You then grew a bit self conscious at the sounds coming out of you, the sounds he was pulling from your throat at the feeling of him tickling the sweet spot deep inside of you. The sounds you were convinced only he would be the one to bring out. One of your hands then moved away from his back as you placed it over your mouth, muffling any sounds you let out.

But he noticed immediately, slowing down his pace as he picked up his head from the crook of your neck, gently tugging your arm away, “No, no, no…” he breathed with a shake of his head, “Don’t do that…I wanna hear those pretty little noises.” 

Your heartbeat quickened at that as you nodded frantically, willing to do anything for him to keep moving the way he was. He smiled at you and placed a quick, sloppy kiss on your lips before picking up his pace again, pounding into you at a more rapid speed as he couldn’t help himself. An exaggerated moan left your parted mouth as your hands returned to claw at his shoulders, your eyes rolling back into your head.

“That’s it.” he whispered as he heard the things he was doing to you, “So fuckin pretty.” 

The words he spoke combined with his movements sent you near the edge, feeling another orgasm build in the pit of your stomach. You almost couldn’t believe how much of an effect he had on you, how you were only able to last a few minutes under his touch before you writhed beneath him. But then again, he didn’t just know what he was doing, but he looked absolutely incredible while doing it. Sweat began to glisten on his forehead, causing his hair to stick slightly to the sides of his face as his hands moved down to squeeze your hips gently, pumping himself in and out of you. The sounds he began to let out were almost animalistic, but he couldn’t help it. You felt so good, better than he ever could’ve imagined.

Your hips moved rhythmically against his, feeling him hitting your clit at the perfect angle now which sent a whole new wave of pleasure through you, “Oh…Daryl.” you cried softly.

The sound of approval and praise spurred him on further, snapping his hips against yours quickly as he could feel you tightening around him, “You gonna cum again? Hm?” he asked.

You cried out again when he kept hitting that same spot, “God, yes! Yes!” you said as you clung onto him more desperately.

His head moved up to leave a few rushed kisses on your cheek as he whispered near your ear, “Come on baby…come on.” 

With one final thrust you completely fell apart all over again, moaning loudly as you felt yourself shake a little as another orgasm washed right over you. Your moans turned into heavenly sighs as he continued to push back into you over and over again, though the feeling of you cumming on his dick, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. In a few short seconds, he reluctantly pulled out of you, stroking himself a few times before he came all over your stomach, some even landing on your breasts.

The two of you were now only left with a feeling of euphoria, catching your breaths and coming down from your amazing highs. Your head rested back against the pillow as you came to your senses again, feeling him moving around for a moment before he was cleaning up your skin with a bandana he carried around in the pocket of his jeans. You let out a soft sigh at his gentle touch, seeing him then throw the piece of fabric somewhere else along the floor before slowly laying down beside you, pulling the blankets up to cover your bare bodies.

He then wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling you back against his chest, feeling yourself smile at the feeling. “Was that even real?” he questioned out loud, his lips kissing your shoulder as he couldn’t help but want to taste every part of you.

You smiled again before slowly turning around to face him, “Hm…I don’t know. Maybe we should do it one more time just to make sure.” you winked, leaning up to place a few kisses across the base of his neck.

He chuckled at your response, his hand running up and down your bare back gently as he let out a deep sigh, “At least gimmie a few minutes first…ain’t gettin any younger ya know.”

You pulled back again to look at him fully, your eyes tracing all over his features as you took in this moment as much as you could. You didn’t exactly know where the two of you would go from here, what the future would hold for your specific situation, so you found you didn’t want to forget a thing. Your eyes took in the entirety of his face as he stared back at you softly, your hand coming up to the side of his face as your thumb ran across his cheekbone lightly. He was so beautiful, so perfect to you. You didn’t want to let him go.

“You’re wonderful.” you couldn’t help but whisper as you looked at him so warmly.

His eyes softened as he took your face gently in his hands, “And you pretty girl, are so, so addictive.” he practically whispered as he brought you into a deep kiss.

And his words were far from a lie. He couldn’t describe it better than he just did. You were like a drug to him almost, finding himself craving you more and more even though you were right next to him. He desperately needed you in his life just as you needed him in your own. And you found that just those few words he spoke to you, it gave you more reassurance for what was to come.

You laughed against his lips as you felt him move up to hover over you again, breaking away briefly to say, “I thought you needed a few minutes.”

He smiled at you as he placed a few gentle kisses across your face, “I guess ya keep me young.” he teased as he leaned down to bite at your neck playfully, causing you to let out a delighted squeal.

Perhaps the future wasn’t something to worry about. But something to cherish.

~ Thanks for reading!

Tags ~ @fluffy-dixon @ryoujoking @dreamtofus @indiasfanficcorner @darylssluttt @richardsamboramylove55 @yoowhatthefuck @pops450 @dixiezstoryz @petalsthorns @seongwin

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x oc #twd daryl #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x original character #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead imagine #daryl twd #twd fanfiction #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus x reader #twd

[scatteredskittless]

hello!! i saw you wanted requests and I was wondering if you would be willing to write some platonic headcanons for the Hazbin Hotel crew with a reader who has chronic pain. (i totally get if you don't want to) thank you so much and I'm excited to see what you write in the future 😺

Hazbin Hotel Crew x Chronic pain having! GN! Reader

A/n: tysm for the request !! This is my first time writing something like this so I hope it’s okay :3 (if there’s anything I got wrong, please correct me)

Warnings: Mentions of chronic pain and disability (but like.. that’s pretty obvious lol)

Fluff✔️ Comfort✔️ Angst❌ Smut❌

‧₊˚✧ Alastor ✧˚₊‧

📻𖤐 After a while of Alastor observing you, as he does with most, he’d notice your body language and think the way you acted was a bit odd…

📻𖤐 Not in a bad way, he just didn’t understand at first why you sometimes visibly look like you were in pain or even just hobbling around to get somewhere

📻𖤐 it definitely raised his brow…

📻𖤐 Before actually approaching you and asking you about it, I’d like to think he made one of the egg boiz spy on you like he did in that one episode 😭😭

📻𖤐 I don’t know what he was expecting though. The only somewhat valuable piece of information he gathered from what the little talking egg had told him was that it saw you taking pain medication. Which did not narrow it down at all and not much of his curiosity had been quenched quite yet..

📻𖤐 So, one peaceful and early morning in the hotel, he decided it’d be best to just ask you about it.

📻𖤐 “My dear, are you feeling alright? You look to be quite discomforted…?” He’d ask casually as he took a sip from his coffee mug, one brow raised and his eyes fixed on yours, pretending like he hadn’t noticed this before today.

📻𖤐 After a chat, he was informed you had something called “chronic pain”. He asked a few questions, nodding when he got the answers and once he was satisfied, he walked off back to his quarters in the hotel.

📻𖤐 After all, he had so much research to do.

📻𖤐 Adding onto that last once I do feel as though Alastor would do more research on it when you decided to tell him about your condition.

📻𖤐 Mostly for his own benefit of learning something new since he hadn’t heard of this before… but it came in handy if you ever needed a bit of a helping hand.

📻𖤐 Like, if you happened to have a flare up or just a particularly bad day he’d sit with you and made sure you rested up.

📻𖤐 He wouldn’t verbally express it but he did take pity on you. How unfortunate you were in constant agony.

📻𖤐 He is a sadistic little fuck though so he’d probably find it mildly entertaining or at the very least fascinating to see what’d make you tick or was a challenge for you

📻𖤐 Although he’d try to be careful not to push you too much.

‧₊˚✧ Angel Dust ✧˚₊‧

🕸️ᥫ᭡ We all know Angel Dust doesn’t have much of a filter so it wouldn’t take him long to ask you why you could barely stand upright for too long or look like you’re genuinely struggling all the time.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ In fact, he’s more perceptive than people would like to think he is. He noticed it shortly after you two had met.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ He’d probably come off a bit strong, saying something along the lines of “toots? Ya alright over there? Ya don’t look so uhhh.. you don’t look too hot.” As he gave you a one over.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ You could tell he wasn’t trying to be insulting to you though, he was just concerned and wanted to know what was troubling you. It showed ever so slightly on the spiders face.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Once you explained to Angel your condition he felt bad. Like, huh? Whatdoya mean you sometimes have trouble even getting outta bed in the morning because of how much pain you’re in?? Sometimes you neglect your own basic needs because you’re in constant pain?

🕸️ᥫ᭡ As he tired to wrap his head around the thought, he’d ask if there’s anything he could do to help. Of course though, there wasn’t much he could do.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ From that day on, Angel would try to make things at least a little easier for you. You had earned the title of his friend, after all. Why would he let his friend suffer alone?

🕸️ᥫ᭡ He loves to cook and is pretty good at it so expect a few homemade meals on him at least a few times <3

🕸️ᥫ᭡ If you ever had a flare up you better fucking believe he’d sit there with you and just talk. He rambles like an old man lol

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Also 100% has movie nights with you with both of you guys’ favourite snacks.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Oh and of course his pig Fat Nuggets would be joining you two

🕸️ᥫ᭡ And thankfully the little guy adores you. Which gains some points with Angel

🕸️ᥫ᭡ The piggy would crawl into your lap if you were up for it. He’s pretty light and his oinks and squeals are bound to make you crack a smile

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Angel is no stranger to feeling pain, so he knows how much it sucks.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ That’s why I believe he’d be one of the best people to tell. You’re his friend and wants to make sure you’re okay as possible.

‧₊˚✧ Husker ✧˚₊‧

🍺🃁 Husker, much like Angel, would notice almost immediately that something was up with you…

🍺🃁 At first Husk couldn’t place it. He just knew that he didn’t often see you standing up straight for long periods of time and that you looked like you were constantly unwell.

🍺🃁 Was it just bad migraines? He’s never really seen you drunk before so it’s not like it could be really bad hangovers.

🍺🃁 Plus, this has been going on since you arrived here so that seemed highly unlikely.

🍺🃁 Husk was the type of guy to keep it to himself though. If it didn’t concern him, why bother saying anything about it?

🍺🃁 One day though, you sat yourself down at the bar and asked for some water. This time however, you looked worse than usual, practically doubled over as you stared down at the bar.

🍺🃁 Even though Husk usually kept his mouth shut.. he couldn’t help but ask if you had a headache or something and if you needed some migraine medication.

🍺🃁 He wasn’t heartless.

🍺🃁 When you shook your head no slowly and told him you were just having a “flare up” he asked what you meant to which you gave a brief explanation of the condition you have.

🍺🃁 Suddenly, it all made sense. That’s why you looked like you were constantly in pain. It’s because you were.

🍺🃁 He slid you the ice cold water gently and observed you for a few moments before going back to wiping the glasses as he spoke to you.

🍺🃁 “If you need something don’t be afraid to ask for it.” He’d say, his deep voice trying to be as comforting as it can while also maintaining somewhat of a nonchalant tone.

🍺🃁 Then, after that, it became routine for you to sit at the bar with him.

🍺🃁 He definitely wasn’t complaining. It was nice getting to know you and since you had a place to just sit and rest, he got to see you more often.

🍺🃁 you swiftly became good friends with him and he was pretty helpful when it came to your condition.

🍺🃁 he’d do his best to check up on you often :)

‧₊˚✧ Vaggie ✧˚₊‧

🗡️☪︎ Vaggie heard about your chronic pain from Charlie so there wouldn’t be a need to tell her about it lol

🗡️☪︎ I have a feeling she’d be a little awkward with attempting to help you out…

🗡️☪︎ Like it’s not like she can really make you feel better so it’s a bit of a struggle for her..

🗡️☪︎ But she does try her best though because she cares about you. You’re her friend.

🗡️☪︎ After a few motivational words from Charlie she’s good to go, attempting to comfort you.

🗡️☪︎ I have a feeling she’d try to help by grabbing you stuff you wanted or needed and chatting with you.

🗡️☪︎ She’s actually quite fun to converse with, she’s pretty sweet when she wants to be and can hold good conversations :))

🗡️☪︎ She’s a good listener so if you wanted to vent or just had something on your mind, she’d listen.

🗡️☪︎ During flareups, Vaggie would just stay by your side and wait it out with you, if you needed anything, she’d be on it and would be back pretty fucking quickly too 💀

🗡️☪︎ Would put a random show on if you wanted a distraction and might let you rest your head on her shoulder if you so desired

🗡️☪︎ I can’t think of much else for her other than the fact she’d try her best. Maybe mess up a few times but ultimately she means well and tries to be as understanding as she possibly can be <33

‧₊˚✧ Charlie ✧˚₊‧

⭐️☀︎ The first thing you did when you arrived at the hotel was inform the very excited daughter of Lucifer that you had chronic pains so you might have to take it a bit slow when showing you around the Hazbin Hotel..

⭐️☀︎ And of course, Charlie being who she was, was very understanding and accepting of that fact.

⭐️☀︎ She’d heard about your condition before so making accommodations for you wouldn’t be an issue

⭐️☀︎ She’s a sweetheart so quite literally your biggest supporter

⭐️☀︎ Like, oh? You need something??Ohmygodwhydidntyoutellmesoonerhereitis :33

⭐️☀︎ Much like Vaggie, she’d sit and talk with you during your flareups

⭐️☀︎ Maybe make you a tea and discuss future plans and such for the hotel to get your mind off of things. Works sometimes surprisingly enough.

⭐️☀︎ She’s nice to talk to, very comforting vibes

⭐️☀︎ But it may get a bit annoying how many times she asks if you’re sure there’s nothing she can do to make your pain go away somehow lol

⭐️☀︎ Or even just how many times she asks if you need something. “Do you need anything? No? Are you sure? Okay…. But are you really sure?”

⭐️☀︎ Might stress herself out on occasion over it tbh😭🙏

⭐️☀︎ But she only means well, you know that.

⭐️☀︎ Her cat Keekee I’m sure would love to cuddle, the cute cyclopean kitty pushing its forehead against your hand for pets (only if you’re up to it, of course.)

⭐️☀︎ Asides from Angel, Charlie would definitely be the best person to tell in the hotel because like… genuinely she just wants to help In any way she can lol

‧₊˚✧ Niffty ✧˚₊‧

🧼𐙚 Niffty is quite blunt as well, very out there and doesn’t really think before she speaks half of the time it just kinda comes out 😭

🧼𐙚 So.. she’d probably take one look at you, and ask why you’re in pain.

🧼𐙚 To which you’d explain to the little one eyed maid your condition, she’d think about it for a moment before asking a shitload of questions about it to which you answer :))

🧼𐙚 Other than that I don’t think Niffty would like… really do much?

🧼𐙚 Maybe clean for you

🧼𐙚 But there’s not much else she would do, realistically, she might forget about it and then ask again. Once you remind her she remembers tho lol

🧼𐙚 During your flareups I do believe like the others she’d sit with you for a while…

🧼𐙚 Before spotting a roach and scurrying off to go take care of the pest. Once done, she’d come back and the cycle repeats.

Please do not repost, translate, or plagarize any of my fanfictions/writing/headcanons without permission ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞

ᯓ★ Scatteredskittless

#husk x reader #alastor x reader #angel dust x reader #vaggie x reader #charlie morningstar #charlie morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel comfort

[rosipuree]

Never lose me.

Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Warnings: Creampie, Virginity loss, Choking, Squirting, erm more probably idunno. Not proofread.

Also my first time writing this stuff so give feedback please!!

Toji was the last person to be in a relationship. He's tried way too many times, but he just wasn't amused by the women he met.

He was giving one last time tonight. "Thanks again Shiu." He says fixing his hair up in a mirror near the front entrance of his home.

"No problem man, I got you every time." Shiu says stuffing his mouth with popcorn as Megumi was deeply focused in the movie that had been playing in the back.

Toji checks his outfit one more time, a black tight long sleeve paired with black slacks. He knew it was basic but after all he doesn't plan on staying out long.

Here he sat bored out of his mind as this women had been doing nothing but blabbering about herself. She was beautiful, but god she would not shut up. Toji got at least four words and it's already been half an hour.

He looked around trying to entertain himself another way, till his eyes landed on you. You were one of his first dates. He vividly remembers you, everything about you was so fucking perfect. Till he found out you were too young for him.

The pink strapless dress you had on tonight, how it hugged your peachy ass perfectly. Your hair was so silky and longer than last time he saw you. Your laugh echoing into his ears.

He still remembers the disappointed look in your face when he told you how it just couldn't work out. But he didn't hesitate to jerk off that night, thinking about you.

His thoughts were interrupted by the cold liquid poured onto his head. "Why the hell are you eyeing that fucking women when we're on a date?" The women says catching the attention of many around the restaurant. Even you.

Fuck.

"You're fucking crazy." He scoffed getting out of his seat leaving her there all alone. He walked passed you before exiting the restaurant.

He sat in his car taking off his shirt. 'I'm definitely done.' He said quietly talking to himself.

He heard a small tap on his window. He turned his head making eye contact with you. Slowly rolling the window down. "So this is where you take all your dates huh?" You chuckled.

Just at the sound of your sweet laugh he felt his heart skip a beat. "What do ya want kid?" He sighs flipping his damp hair back.

You rolled your eyes, "I'm not even that much younger than you." You say leaning on the car door to have a better look at him.

"Y/n, 15 years apart is not a lot?" He asked while his eyes kept floating to your peachy lips. He would fuck that little mouth of yours and love it.

You smiled, "Nope."

That smile had him in a chokehold.

"Get in." Toji unlocks the doors to the car, he noticed that pretty little smirk draw on your face as you slowly back up from his door to walk to the passenger side.

Your ass moving like jello when you walked past the front of his car giving him a perfect view. Just at the sight of you made his blood move straight to his dick.

Next thing you know, all that was heard in the car was the rustling and sloppy wet kisses in Toji's car . You tauntingly pull away from this kiss. You felt Toji's grip around your waist tighten.

It hurt so fucking good. His big arms, how little you looked sitting on top on him. "Fuck...why'd you pull away?" He whispered.

You looked at him with those pleading big doe eyes, "Did you ever miss me Toji?"

"Of course I did." His hands roamed to the fat meaty part of your ass to grab the hem of your dress, sliding it over your head.

No bra, just that slutty bright pink thong. He noticed the tattoo of a butterfly between your breast. How it made your plump tits pop out more.

Toji admired the beauty in front of him. Was it desperate to say this was how he wanted that night to end? That night when he first met you.

You leaned in giving him wet lazy kisses all over his neck. Sucking a little harder in some places to leave marks. "Toji I need you." You whispered in his ear causing his body to shudder.

Toji wanted to fuck you hard.

"Get in the back." He says guiding you to the back of his car. He gets out of the car to go to the back to meet you there.

His dick was throbbing at he sight of you laying in the back patiently like the good little girl you were.

This was gonna be hard for Toji, He was such a big man in such a small little car. But he was gonna make it worth it.

His hands slowly roaming your body making his way to hover on top of you. Planting kisses on your soft tender breast. Sucking one and squeezing the other to give it the same amount of attention.

As you were panting wanting more from Toji, you could feel your hot core crying for Toji. "I wan u." You say breathlessly.

His hand that was massaging your breast was now on your neck, squeezing tightly but not too tight. "You need me that bad?"

You whimper, "Yes."

You were driving Toji crazy.

His dick was aching more than anything. Wanting to fuck that wet little cunt of yours.

'Fuck..' He makes you sit on top of him. Pulling out his fat veiny cock. His tip drooling with pre-cum. You look up and gulp.

"Toji..." You stuttered.

He moves your thong to the side, slowly moving his index and middle finger inside your gushy wet cunt.

You gasp with pleasure. "T-Toji."

You lean in as he was focused on your cunt. Increasing the speed of the thrusting. You planted a wet kiss on his red plump lips. Bitting his bottom lip as you whine to the pleasure.

"Fuck, Toji fas..ter" You stutter. You could feel his long big fingers constantly hitting that rubbery gushy flesh in your pussy. You felt as if knots were forming in your stomach.

You slowly slide your hand down to Toji's girth. Rubbing your thumb on his wet tip. Toji hissed. You smiled.

"Fuck me already." you breathlessly moan, as your hand slowly slides down Tojis shaft, delicately pumping his dick.

You felt close as Toji kept thrusting his fingers deep into your pussy. He teasingly slides his hands out as he hears your moans getting louder.

His fingers making its way up to your empty mouth. Sliding his fingers deep in your mouth. "Beautiful baby, don't you taste so good?"

You nod. Unable to verbally answer.

"Good girl." He smirks, slowly moving his fingers out of your mouth. He looks down at his shaft as your hand was still wrapped around it.

He guides your hand up and down his cock. Earning low grunts from Toji. "You like that?" you softly whisper.

"C'mere." He huffs with pleasure. Guiding his cock to the entrance of your wet cunt.

"T-Toji, be gentle...it's my first time." You whispered the last part. You hide your face to embarrassed at the sudden confession.

Oh but he loved the idea of having your little pussy all to himself. Touched by no one other than you and him.

"It's alright darling...put it in f'me, will ya?" He says grabbing your hands guiding them down to his cock.

Slowly you grab his lengthy fat cock, twitching in your hands as you slowly guide it in. You wince in pain as his cock stretches your pussy.

"Fuck yer so tight f'me baby." Toji hisses as he grabs both ass cheeks guiding you.

"Ahh Toji, hurts m..me." You say wrapping your arms around his neck, hands intertwining with his hair.

" Ts'okay yer gonna feel better." He grunts as he throws his head back. Guiding your hips to move faster.

"F..Fuck Toji." You sob with pain and pleasure.

Toji knew it hurt, but he fucking loved the tightness around him. How he could feel every inch of you. He wanted this ever since his eyes first landed on you. "Fuck y/n." He moaned.

The pleasure was now taking over. Your whole body feeling euphoric as you hop on Toji's dick like a bunny. You pant out a chuckle.

"Uhh f-fuck doll, i love your fucking pussy." He whimpers. Toji

Toji Fushiguro whimpering. How you had him fucking wrapped around your little finger.

He lifts you up a bit as he bucks his hips into you harder and way more faster. "T-Toji I'm gonna...Im close." You cry out as you feel that knotting sensation in your stomach again.

"Cum f'me baby.." He hissed as his pace fastened.

And you did.

The warm feeling overcoming your body as you limp onto Toji's chest as he's still balls deep. The loud moan that escapes your body causes Toji's cock to twitch inside you.

"This pussy is all mine yknow that?" He grunts as he thrust getting ready to cum.

"t-Toji sta-" You were overstimmulated as you felt Toji's hand roam down to your pearly clit, softly rubbing it.

"Tell me your pussy is all mine." You could feel your body beginning to shake. You bit Toji's shoulder. His pace in thrusting hasn't changed but he was rubbing your clit like their was tomorrow.

You bite harder as you feel an odd feeling as if you need to pee. "Toji...ah baby pee..i need t-"

He grabbed your neck basically choking you. "I fucking said tell me!" He says as your arm wraps around his hand that had been choking you.

"Mmmf..fu..Daddy's pussy...only..Toji I'm gonna pe.." You felt the warm liquid running down your legs as Toji lets his load out inside you.

"Fuck…baby you squirted.” he throws his head back and you plop onto his chest. Both panting.

You lazily chuckled a bit embarrassed.

He grabs your face, planting soft kisses onto your swollen red lips. "How was it for ya first time, baby?"

Your hands wrap around his neck as you lay your head down on his chest. Lazily smiling at him. "I could do it every night." You mumbled.

"I'd like that.." He kisses the top of your head as your eyes slowly closed.

He took you home that night after fucking you dumb, giving you the best after care. Ending the night with him asking you to be his girlfriend. And of course you said yes.

#jjk smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji smut #toji x you #fushiguro toji #fushiguro #smut #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #rosipuree