#IT IS SO COLD AND THE WINDOWS ARE SINGLE PANED.

[volixia669]

I have gone outside in very cold, very windy, weather, so once my tea is done steeping I am hiding under blankets for the foreseeable future.

[slippery-minghus]

i look forward to the future when i have a home that can be heated adequately in winter... i love the season and i love the snow so much, but it's not something my body can handle well. i don't think i'd mind it so much if i could be warm for at least a few hours a day during these long cold months >_<

[miasmaghoul]

If you're feeling up for it, may we get something with Dew inviting Phantom/Aeon to sleep with him on a particularly cold night?

It's a peaceful evening in the ghoul common room, quiet save for the crackling logs in the fireplace and the low drone of the TV. Only a few of them remain now that dinner has passed, the wintry chill of the abbey making their beds damn near irresistable.

Mountain's lounging on one beat-up sofa, Cumulus using him like an oversized mattress while he rubs her back. Dew can hear them mumbling to each other, but doesn't really listen. He's flopped sideways over one of the armchairs by the windows, a book in one hand and a tumbler of whiskey in the other. The ice clinks against the glass when he swirls it, taking a sip and skimming the page he's been staring at for the past ten minutes - he's been too busy watching Aeon to remember a single word.

He's been curled up in the corner of the loveseat for a while now, long legs tucked up to his chest and a mug of tea clutched between his palms. It's either empty or cold by now, Dew isn't sure which, but Aeon hasn't sipped from it in quite some time and Dew suspects he'd only accepted the drink to ward off the shivers. Dew can see his hands trembling from across the room, despite the way Aeon keeps his tone light when Cumulus asks him a question. About what, Dew doesn't know, but he seems to be the only one that notices the shivers.

With an exaggerated yawn, Dew snaps his book shut and tosses it onto the side table. Downs the last mouthful of his nightcap with a pleased hum, stretching as he rolls from the chair. He scratches at his stomach when he pads to the kitchenette, making sure to pass behind the loveseat so he can give Aeon's hair a playful ruffle. He leans into it immediately, and Dew chuckles. He grabs the nearly full mug from Aeon's grasp and leaves both it and his glass on the counter, and nods towards the door.

"You're with me tonight, kid," he informs Aeon, and the way his face lights up could make anyone smile.

Dew rolls his eyes with a smirk, sidling over to the couch while Aeon unfolds himself. He bids goodnight to Mountain and Cumulus, grumbling when she insists on kissing his cheek but not hiding the way his tail swishes. Aeon gets one too, of course, before Mountain decides they've both gotten enough of her attention and steals her lips for himself. Dew takes the opportunity to grab Aeon's elbow, coaxing him towards the hall, and finds him cold to the touch. He grimaces where Aeon can't see it.

"C'mon," he sighs, funneling warmth into his palm and resting it against Aeon's lower back, "let's get you thawed out."

He visibly sags, leaning into Dew with a huff and dragging his feet as the little ghoul practically carries him down the hall. He's freezing.

"Figured Rain would get you tonight," Aeon mutters as they step into Dew's room, Dew depositing him at the end of the bed so he can stoke the spent logs in his own hearth.

"Usually does." Dew crumples up a piece of newspaper and snaps his fingers, setting it alight. He tosses it into the fireplace and waves his hand, the flames immediately growing. "But Swiss is on fishstick duty tonight, so you get to play second fiddle."

Aeon snorts, and there's a shuffling sound. Dew turns to find him wrestling his way out of his oversized hoodie with a yawn, rubbing at heavy eyes. He hugs himself, trying to rub the chill from his limbs.

"Why's it so cold?"

"It's winter," Dew deadpans, gesturing at the window by the bed. It's started to snow since dinnertime, fat flakes floating down to settle against the leaded glass panes. "Comes with the territory."

"Yeah, well, I don't like it," Aeon grumbles, and Dew can't help his chuckle.

"You're as bad as Rain," he teases, tossing one more log into the fire for good measure before ambling over to the bed. He gathers Aeon's face in both hands, gives it a squeeze. "Lucky for you I don't mind being a space heater."

Aeon makes a strange noise, probably because Dew's smushing his cheeks, but he doesn't complain about the warm hands gracing his skin. Dew strokes sharp cheekbones with both thumbs, watching Aeon's pale skin slowly start to brighten. His eyes start to droop, and Dew feels unbearably fond.

Aeon tips forward when Dew pulls his hands back. He doesn't catch himself, just ends up with he face planted on Dew's chest. A sheepish little laugh sounds form his shirt. Dew doesn't bother hiding his smile - Aeon couldn't see it anyway.

"Alright, in the bed," he instructs, gently tugging Aeon's messy curls. "Lemme get the extra shit."

Aeon chirps, nosing at his chest for a second before he obeys. He crawls up the bed while Dew heads to the closet, fetching the stack of plush blankets he keeps just for nights like this. They get tossed onto the mattress with little ceremony, Dew kicking the closet door shut behind him, and an oof sounds from under the resulting pile. Aeon pokes his head out from around it, eyes crinkled at the corners.

"I feel better already."

Dew chuffs, setting about organizing the mess.

"That so?" He tosses the first blanket over the other ghoul, tucking it up around Aeon's pointed ears. The second blanket gets laid over Aeon's legs, and Dew can see him rubbing his feet together under the covers like a cricket. "Guess you don't need me to join you, then."

Aeon snorts out a laugh, hunkering down even further. His smile is teasing, but the softness in his eyes betrays him. Dew settles the last blanket overtop of the rest, completeing the weighty pile of fleece and wool that will surely have him sweating in two minutes flat. He shrugs off his shirt and tosses it aside, moving to unbuckle his belt.

Aeon wolf whistles when he drops trou, left in just a ratty old pair of boxer briefs, and it's Dew's turn to snort.

"Drink it in," he lilts, gesturing at his bare chest. The firelight glints off his nipple rings, makes the gold in his hair really stand out when he lets down his messy bun. "I know you want to."

Aeon licks his lips like a thirsty dog, waggling lascivious eyebrows, and Dew rewards him by stripping off his undies and tossing them directly onto Aeon's face. It's not exactly a punishment, at least judging by the deep inhale Aeon takes.

"Gross," Dew chides with absolutely no malice. It's not like he has room to talk when he spends every laundry day nose deep in Aether's unmentionables. He slips between the sheets, grunting at the weight of the covers but making sure not to dislodge any part of his perfectly crafted pile. He plucks the offending garment from Aeon's face, finding the other ghoul grinning like a fool.

"You like my gross," he says, and Dew does not argue.

The underwear gets tossed to the floor, and Dew busies himself getting their bodies arranged. Despite the covers, Aeon's still icy against his bare skin. That's half the reason he'd undressed - easier to channel his fire that way. He gets the other ghoul onto his side, molds himself to Aeon's chilly back and tangles their legs together, and once he manages to sneak an arm under Aeon's t-shirt Dew cranks up his temperature.

Aeon melts in an instant, going limp in his arms with a deeply pleased groan. Dew nuzzles at the back of his neck, little baby hairs tickling his nose. The hand under Aeon's shirt rubs along his sternum, pouring more and more unnatural heat into his core with every passing second.

"Fuck," Aeon groans, a long, drawn out sound of pure relief. "That's so nice," he sighs, snuggling deeper into his pillow. "You're so warm."

"Fire ghoul privileges," Dew breathes against his slowly heating skin. He peppers little kisses across Aeon's shoulder, each one a little spark of heat that helps chase away the shivers.

There's one more part of his space heater routine left, though, and it's his favorite.

"If you want," Dew mumbles into the juncture of his throat, "I could warm you up from the inside too."

Aeon makes a curious sound, but when Dew rocks his narrow his narrow hips against the curve of Aeon's ass he gets the message.

"Oh yeah?"

"If you want," Dew repeats with a shrug, holding him close, "I could show you the real meaning of cockwarming."

Aeon barks out a laugh, but the way he wiggles his ass is answer enough.

[xyziiix]

𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐑 - 𝐉.𝐏 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓

Captain John Price X Female!Reader

Warnings: SMUT! (P in V, fingering, spit kink - Price spitting in readers mouth 🫣, unprotected sex, hints of a breeding kink?) PRICE IS A NASTY MF - implied secret relationship, language, mention of violence, mentions of guns, description of bullet wound, hint at Ghost being a peeping Tom @ the end, reader is described as a woman!!!!

Small summary: after a mission not going as smooth as planned, yourself and the boys had no choice but to hunker down in a safe house while you stitch up Soap - him taking a nasty bullet wound to the thigh - the heat is overwhelming and anticipation bubbling as you weren’t sure if you were entirely safe, the only thing that could take your mind off of it was your Captain’s lingering eyes, promiscuous and completely unprofessional thoughts racing through his mind about you.

!not proof read!

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ!” Sergeant Mactavish exclaims, his head thrown back as a pained groan rumbles from his chest - his accent thicker as he complains.

“Hold still, Soap.” You reply - your voice coming out stern as you focus on pulling the bullet out of his thigh, your breath wavering as you tried to concentrate - pushing away the panic and anxiety you were feeling at seeing your friend injured. Luckily, the bullet hadn’t gone deep - and as far as you could tell - it hadn’t hit an artery. “Almost out.” You added, trying to get him to calm down.

“Stay calm, Sergeant.” A low - gravelly voice filled the clouded room, your Captain stood behind the groaning Scot, a hand placed on his shoulder to ground him as well as keep him still in order for you to work easier.

The house you were holed up in - though you could barely call it a house - was in the butt-fuck middle of nowhere - not another sign of life in sight as all that surrounded you was sand and heat. The scorching sun blared through the single glass-pane window, lighting the room enough to your satisfaction - and if you looked over to the ray of sun, you could actually see the abundance of dust floating in the air. It was safe to say you were surprised when you learned this was a marked safe house and not some deserted shack in the middle of the urzikstan desert.

You were kneeled on the chalky ground, your knees aching from the concrete floor as Soap sat above you in the rickety chair, the furniture groaning in protest at the agitated soldiers weight. You hands worked fast - managing to remove the bullet from the surface of his flesh and immediately going to disinfect it.

“Shite!” He hissed, the wound burning as you pressed a antisept-soaked cotton pad to the open area, cutting him an apologetic look as his neck strained - teeth bared at the stinging pain shooting through his nerves.

After a few minutes of you working swiftly and silently - save for the few ‘sorry’s’ when you see the Sergeant wince when you push the needle through his flesh in order to close the wound - you managed to successfully stitch him up, sighing as you lean back slightly, the strain in your back and the cramp in your hands pushed aside as you observe your work - wanting to be extra sure your teammate was taken care of. After wrapping gauze around his thigh, Gaz and Ghost move over to Soap - wrapping his arms around their shoulders as they guide him to stand.

“You go and lie down, okay? You need to rest that leg so you don’t tear the stitches.” You order softly, rising to your feet - feeling your knees pop from the benumbed feeling of kneeling for so long.

“Aye.” Johnny grunts, exhaustion taking over his usually lively self as he looks to you, “I owe you big time, lass.” He says gratefully, casting you an appreciative and tired smile before he’s moving out of the room with the other two - Ghost mumbling something to about not being so reckless, his cold demeanour failing to mask his genuine worry for Soap.

You let out groan of relief as you take a seat at the rustic table, your whole body aching as you tried to relax as best as you could in the beaten down chair.

“You alright, love?” Price asks you - and for a moment, you’d forgotten he was still in the room with you - stood over by the window he’d pried open, a cigar in his hand as he looked over to you. He’d barely spoken a word since the mission had gone south, and as much as you wanted to ask if he was okay, you knew it was best not to pry for the moment - understanding that a lot of stress and emotions were weighed on his shoulders.

“Yeah.” You responded, a hand coming to rub and knead at the back of your neck - attempting to unwind the knot that has formed there. You felt uncomfortably warm, having removed your vest a while ago - leaving you in a simple tank top, though it did little to relieve your skin - the air almost impossibly humid.

Price surveyed you, bringing the thick cigar to his lips, relishing in the smoke burning his throat and lungs as he took you in. A light sheen of perspiration was layered on your skin - collecting between your breasts that gave the illusion that your skin was glowing, your once-neat updo having loosened, your hair falling more loosely and wild, and stray, defiant strands of hair stuck to your damp skin. Price had been silently replaying the events of before in his head - what he could’ve done to prevent it; to prevent Soap getting shot, and to prevent you being put in danger. But, seeing you now - looking as ravishing as you did, helped to take his mind away from his own self-doubt for a beat.

You reluctantly stood, having looked at the scattered medical supplies on the table and floor long enough - hoping that if you glared at it hard enough it would magically be cleaned up and put back to where it was supposed to be. You began slowly picking up pieces of gauze, rolls of surgical suture and various other supplies before placing them back into the first aid box, lost in your own thoughts as you stayed contently silent.

You felt his presence before he reached for you, he smells of ash, and a lingering acrid taste of a cigar burns your tongue. His aura is intrusive, but it’s never uncomfortable. Two calloused, large hands place themselves on the outside of your arms, pressing his hard body to yours - his chest to your back as his familiar, warm lips press onto the heated skin of your neck - the juncture of where your neck and shoulder meets.

“John…” you breathe, eyes flickering over to the open doorway - painfully reminded that you weren’t alone in the house, and if either of your teammates walked in, the first thing they would see is how your Captain is practically trapping your body to the dust-covered table with his own.

“Hm?” He hums back to you, the vibrations crawling from his chest and settling into the sensitive skin of your neck. He was doing it on purpose. Acting nonchalant about the compromising position that you could be caught red-handed in at any moment. “I love hearin’ y’say my name.” He murmurs against your skin, one of his sizeable hands placing itself on your midsection - effectively pushing you back and closer to him, also chipping away at your resolve as you fought back to not sink into the feeling of him. Your skin grew impossibly hotter, the weak feeling in your thighs becoming known as you were silently glad you were being held up between the table and John - certain your already exhausted legs would collapse - you had to stifle a gasp when you felt the light graze of teeth under your jaw, the wiry stubble of his goatee scratching across your delicate skin - your Captain continued his onslaught on your neck, nearly groaning at the taste of salt on your skin.

“They could catch us.” You remind him, breathlessly.

“They could.” He agrees, though he made no move to step away from you.

It was a dangerous game you were both playing. It’s not important how your dalliance with your Captain started - it being a long story of what started as lingering looks and intrusive thoughts as you distantly admired one another - knowing the consequences of what would happen if you were to act on your feelings. You could lose your job, and John would be punished greater than you - being kicked off the team and risking being stripped of his rank. Yet, it seemed he cared little for the consequences when one night - he’d shown up to your room in the barracks, telling you that you both needed to talk - a long overdue conversation - which actually led to him fucking you senseless on your single bed. You both agreed afterwards that you needed to keep whatever this was quiet - John promising you he’d find a way to make it not result in backlash when others learned about your relationship, and in the last few months - you were both in your own content little bubble outside of work, spending most of your time from deployment with him in his apartment in London.

Panic flashes across your face as you hear footsteps descending the stairs, each step groaning and creaking from heavy combat boots, Price then stepped away from you - going back to his place by the window to resume smoking his cigar, acting as if he hadn’t just left you a flustered mess. Gaz was who appeared, not taking any notice of the red dusting your cheeks and the nonplus stature you had while you remained stood by the table.

“He’s passed out.” Gaz interjected the atmosphere - unaware of the previous state you and the Captain were in, Price nodded briefly at Garrick, the end of his cigar burning orange embers for a second as he took a pull of the smoke. You also nodded at his words - shaking yourself out of it as your unsteady hands moved to close the first aid box. Gaz took a seat at the table - the seat previously occupied by Soap - as another set of heavier footsteps came down the staircase, the skull faced Lieutenant appearing, silent as he joined the table. You glanced over to Price, who casually watched out of the window. “It’s bloody boiling in here.” Garrick comments, tugging at the collar of his shirt. Ghost lets out a grumble of agreement, a gloved hand readjusting his mask slightly. You busy yourself, now having regained your composure as you silently took the box in your hands - walking out of the room to go and put it back with the other supplies. Price’s cerulean eyes flicking over to you, watching you leave the room.

It was a few hours later, daylight had burned and it grew darker. The air finally getting cooler and giving your body some relief. You had just finished checking up on Soap - him finally feeling more like himself, joking and putting on his charm as usual. It was a relief to see him act like himself, as well as that his wound hadn’t shown any signs of infection. The stairs creaked under your feet as you left Johnny to rest and descended to the ground floor. Glancing into the living room to see Gaz had made himself comfortable on the worn down sofa, and was already passed out. Simon was no where to be seen - and you guessed he was either outside on watch or he’d just found himself a private area for the night, understanding that he prefers his own company sometimes.

You snatched a pillow from the armchair in the living room - unfortunately, the only bed that was actually inhabitable; was occupied by an injured Soap. You would’ve slept in the living room, but Gaz’s snoring was already doing your head in. You moved to the more open room - where the flimsy dining table was. You went to the other end of the room, laying the pillow on the hard ground and lying down. The pillow gave your head some relief, but the hardwood floor dug unmercifully into your already aching back.

You sighed, staring up at the ceiling, observing the parts where the paint had chipped. You laid there for a moment, hands resting on your stomach as you enjoyed the peace and quiet - yet it also put you on edge; you could hear a pin drop it was that silent.

You decided to shut your eyes, disappointed to feel not even an ounce of sleep behind your eyes, you let out another frustrated sigh - scrunching your brows as you tried to will yourself to get some rest.

When you heard the quiet shuffling of boots moving towards you, your breath slowed - already knowing who it was as you felt him settle on the ground beside you, a strong arm slithering around your stomach and gently pulled you to him until your back met his hard chest.

“What are you doing?” You asked, your voice sounding stern - though, you could both hear the smile in it.

“Wha’s it look like i’m doin’?” Price asked rhetorically, his voice low and gravelly - his accent mixing his words to a perfect melody as it vibrated against your ear. You felt his stubble prickling the back of your neck as he placed a single, wet kiss there - a shiver rolling down your spine.

“Not here.” You sighed reluctantly, even having him lay next to you was risky - as well as that it was effectively arousing you like a bitch in heat. It’s been so long - too long - since you’d felt him, having been on this mission for weeks now and not having an ounce of privacy between you.

“Was only wantin’ a cuddle, love.” He responded with a raspy chuckle, his voice having a teasing edge to it as his arm flexed around your torso slightly - pulling you closer to him until there was practically no space between your bodies. “-unless…” he trailed off, his arm around your torso slowly moving south, his fingers dancing along the slit of exposed skin where your top ended and your pants begun.

“They’ll hear us.” You say, your voice growing breathless as you tried to remind him - as well as yourself - looking down to try and watch his fingers in the dark - only being able to make out darker shapes as you felt his finger tease under the waistband of your pants - trailing along the sensitive skin of you abdomen.

“We’ll be quiet.” He says, his liquid voice soothing you as he nestles his head in the crook of your neck - also looking down to watch his hands work as they slowly begin to pop the buttons of your pants open.

You don’t reply, breath bated as you feel your pants grow loose on your hips and leisurely pushed down to your thighs - feeling your skin being exposed to the air.

He lets out a hum against your neck, adjusting his head to softy suck at the thin skin of your jugular - feeling your breath hitch as his warm, large hand slides further down, slipping under the cotton fabric of your underwear and cupping your pussy, feeling how hot, puffy and slick you were under his palm.

“Oh, sweetheart..” He groaned, his voice barely above a whisper as he leans more over you to get a better look at your face, a smug smirk pulling his lips and goatee up as his hand wedges itself between your closed thighs - flexing his wrist to essentially grind his hand against your neglected cunt. “How long ya been like this? All wet for me?” He asked lowly - though he knew you were too focused on not crying out to answer him. His pride grew as he felt your hips begin to rock on their own accord, grinding into his palm as well as brushing your arse against his clothed cock. “Soaked… and I haven’t even put my fingers in you yet.” He practically growls against your neck - his voice reverberating through your entire body, his touch feeling electric.

“John…” you breathe a quiet whine, and he feels his chest swell as he could already hear the pleading edge in your voice, his cock throbbing in the confines of his pants.

“Tell me to stop.” He breathes, his hand pressing up against you - feeling your slick stick to his palm. He let out a low, gravelly breath as he felt how hot and wet you were. He doesn’t wait for you to respond - because he knows you won’t. He knows you won’t tell him to stop.

And you know it too.

You hear the metal of his zipper being pulled, the noise joining the soundtrack of your heavy breathing. The hand still buried inside of your underwear shifts, spreading your slick over your puffy clit, sending small jolts through your body. When you hear a quiet, strangled groan from behind you, you turn to look over your shoulder.

Price was still laying on his side behind you, his pants being pulled down enough so that his cock was free. You watched in awe as he slowly fisted his dick, pumping himself languidly as his other hand was still buried inside of your underwear - a calloused thumb circling your bud of nerves while you felt two of his thick fingers tease at your quivering, drooling entrance.

You thankfully didn’t need to whine and beg - mostly because John was growing just as desperate as you were. His thick fingers sank into you, stretching you more than your own fingers could, you let out a soft hiss as your hips squirmed a little.

“Be quiet.” Price orders, his tone authoritative yet dripping with lust, he began slowly dragging his fingers in an out of you - scissoring you open to get you ready for his cock. His chin rested on your shoulder again as he watched you squirm and bite your lip in an attempt to keep quiet, his voice a breath of air against your ear - “so fuckin’ tight.”

His other hand released its hold on his cock, lifting to cup your jaw and turn you to face him. He pried your bottom lip from under your teeth with his thumb before he planted his lips on yours - letting out a long exhale through his nose as he relished the taste of you. His fingers moving a little faster as your quiet noises fell onto his tongue.

He pulled back a moment later, his face hovering above yours. You could only just see his face in the dark, his lips parted as he took in your expression.

“Open.”

Like the good girl you were, you did as you were told, your lips parting and your tongue peeking out invitingly. He let out a small groan of approval before he spat into your mouth. You took what he gave you, whimpering a little as you swallowed. His fingers pulled out of you then, leaving you feeling empty. A protest was on the tip of your tongue before you felt him use his booted foot to push your pants the rest of the way down your legs, and you quickly kicked them off your ankles, the sound of fabric hitting the floor filling the room for a beat.

One of his thighs wriggled between your legs, pushing your legs open as he melded against you. Wasting no time in gathering your slick with the flushed tip of his cock before he pushed into you. Pressing your lips together again as you both groaned from the stretch of his cock slowly filling you.

“So fuckin’ tight…” he groaned again, his voice barely above a whisper as his head fell onto your shoulder - his cock throbbing between your hot, constricting walls. “Like you were made for me, love.” He added with a breathless chuckle, slowly rocking his hips until he was fully buried into you.

“John-“ you gasped as he bottomed out, your body already writhing beside him, your chest rising and falling with shallower breaths.

At the sound of your noises unintentionally upping in volume, his free hand came to clasp around your mouth - muffling the little whimpers threatening to escape. “I know…” he cooed against your ear in a whisper. “Got to be quiet for me sweetheart, don’t want to others to catch us — to catch me filling you up like this.” He breathed, his own breathing quickening as he began to rock his hips in hard, shallow thrusts.

The moan that escaped was trapped into his palm, your legs already quivering as his cock dragged against every spot inside of you it seemed only he could find. You weakly rocked back against him, hearing his hot breath fan against your ear as it seemed he was also trying to stay quiet.

“Not gonna last long, love.” He says honestly. You too were already feeling the beginnings of shock waves indicating an incoming orgasm. It’d been such a long few weeks since he’d been able to fuck you. “Need you to come around my cock before I can fill you up.” He growls, the hand not muffling your mouth reached down to fan across your clit - your body immediately tensing, your cunt practically strangling his cock.

His pelvis kept hitting your arse in slow but hard thrusts, rocking your body with him as his chest remained glued to your back. One of his hands cupping your breasts through your shirt while the other was down to where you were joined together - touching your clit in tight circles. His face pressed into your neck, his goatee burning your skin deliciously. Your teeth trapped your bottom lip between them - forcing yourself to muffle your noses - almost to the point you could taste copper in your mouth.

It felt like the knot in your stomach was tightening by the minute, your body shuddering and your thighs tensing as they were forced open by his own muscled thighs.

“M’gonna come-“ you moan quietly, spurring him on as he let a low groan into your neck. He picked up his pace a little, nearly rolling you onto the side with the force of his thrusts, his fingers began smacking tapping at your throbbing clit, his cock piercing you open as his thrust grow sloppy. His hot tongue laved over the think skin of your neck - the sensitive spot just under your neck that he knew would have you trembling.

About several seconds later it happened. Your abdomen coiling taught as you felt heat and desire crash through you, your lips parting in a silent moan as you stiffened for a moment - your pussy quivering around him as you came.

He continued to fuck you through it, his eyes glued to your face as he watched your expression contort with euphoria. He let out a low and breathy groan when he felt you tighten around him. “That’s right, love… make a mess on me-“ he encouraged, his gravelly voice whispering into your ear as he held you to him.

He wasn’t that far behind you, grunting curses and profanities into your ear about filling you up as his hips met yours with one final, hard thrust, before he was spilling his hot come into you. His body shuddering beside you as he panted into your neck again.

You let out a quiet, weak moan as you felt warmth of his spend bloom inside of you. You both stayed there for a few minutes, catching your breaths as you felt sweat dancing over your skin - your pussy still pulsing around his softening cock from the aftershocks of such an intense orgasm.

“Fuckin’ hell..” he breathed — his voice trailing to a soft chuckle as he slowly pulled his lax cock out of you, gently shushing you when you whined at the loss. “So good f’me, always such a good girl…” he praises, kissing around your ear as he whispers sweet nothings to you.

As your captain coddled you and cleaned you up, you were both blissfully unaware of the ogling eyes from the shadows, the moonlight shining through the window giving a glimmer of light to reflect against the cool surface of the skull mask…

A/N: hope everyone enjoyed! Sorry it took so long to get out been a lil busy. I couldn’t resist adding the little mention of Ghost in the end — I LOVE reading those fics and head cannons of Ghost x you x Price.

Ooo maybe I should write a Ghost x reader x Price??? Lmk!!

[muntitled]

Eunseok's Restraint

Bodyguard!Eunseok x Fem!Reader

Summary: Seducing the man hired to protect and serve

Warnings: Language, Violence, Organized Crime, Smut +18 (Minors DNI)

A/N: Do not read this it's not good. I just needed him out of my head

A door slamming shut in the distant driveway underneath your window rouses you from a disturbing dream. A dream you're all too happy waking up from. This had been odd because you had never stayed up past the tenth hour and as a result, have never had a sleepover with any of your past adolescent friends.

You fell asleep when your father conducted his shady goings on like a good little girl because that is what was expected of you. And if there was but one thing that you knew, it is how to be good.

As of recently, however, your usual, robotic if not, blind obedience was thawing slowly and it only takes one single solitary evening for that clean pure streak to become poisoned with an inky blackness.

But something in you was screaming with molten excitement because he was back…

"Just one peek," You're not entirely sure who you're trying to reassure. You certainly had no friends and you couldn't have been talking to any of your stuffed animals, you had put them to bed long ago.

You ought to be in bed yourself- but your mindless feet drag you out of bed. You're aware enough to slot them into the pink, fuzzy slippers but that is where your sensibility stops. You trot across the carpet, as silent as a lamb, stepping into the sliver of moonlight shining in through the window.

The window.

It was an ancient, ghastly thing, much like the rest of your home. Your room was the only architectural exception with its pastel interiors and soft finishes. The rest of the ostentatious manor belonged solely to your father. Ivy clung to the building like a sickness, crawling up the foundations of your window. It is against those windows where you now sit perched like a bird, watching the beasts that prowled down below. You watch with bated breath as those neatly arranged cars snake down the gravel pathway, circling around the fountain and stopping at the myriad steps. You're not too hidden and perhaps you should be, but every sliver of rationality left, disappears as soon as he uncovers himself from within the jet black luxury car.

It all happens in slow motion, really. Your breathing stammers with unfamiliar lust, steaming up the pane as you watch Eunseok, one of your father's fiercely loyal workers, readjust the lapels of his dark blue suit. He looks impeccably dressed, actually, along with that stone cold visage that only adds to his ‘brooding, emotionless bodyguard, exterior. He's so finely dressed, in fact, that you suspect it had been terrifyingly easy to blend in with the normal working class in his outfit. Absolutely nothing about his countenance alluded to all the blood he'd voluntarily spilled for your father and that's the problem.

At least Sungchan beside him had the decency of appearing like the common criminal he was. Something in his pitch-black suit and that garish display of jewellery pieces just screams 'illegal activity.’

Not Eunseok though.

As if feeling somehow that he was being watched, Eunseok’s eyes flit to the highest level of the piss-rich manor as if compelled by some other worldly force. You suppose this is why your dad had hired him. His senses had to have been immaculate to catch you watching him from up high.

His eyes however, do not react as he watches you watching him from up there, your night gown clinging to your shoulder by a single silk thread and sheer fucking will. A low whistle rips through Sungchan’s mouth and just like that, the spell is broken.

"Quit it," Eunseok says, breaking eye contact to stare straight ahead at the manor instead. "Quit thinking about fucking his daughter."

Eunseok could feel Sungchan's eye roll as he whined "Since when did you become so fucking boring?"

"Since our entire lives depended on completing a job without our dicks getting in the way." Eunseok locks the car door with the tinted windows before continuing towards the manor, Sungchan walks in stride.

It is only when the men disappear inside the building when you realise you were straining your neck immeasurably, just to catch one fleeting glance.

You're never usually so easily coaxed out of the confines of your quarters but this is an exception. The corridor is dark and deserted when you creep out, your fuzzy slippers muted along the floor. The end of the corridor opens to a mezzanine flooded with a rectangle of golden artificial light and you quicken your steps. Your stomach already set alight with the inevitability of seeing him again. And him seeing you.

"I hope he didn't give you too much trouble," the voices in the downstairs living room travel towards you while you're still clinging to the darkness of the corridor like the ivy outside. You’re smart enough to cling to the mahogany bars of the mezzanine, overlooking the scene below like a hopeless voyeur.

Even now you could tell you'd probably get eaten alive if you were to get caught. Such talk of unsavoury business is no place for any dignified lady. All machismo and grit rising from the stems of celebratory whiskey glasses. You creep closer.

"No trouble at all," Eunseok speaks up but Sungchan is quick to interrupt, "-Although there was just a disgustingly wayward spray of blood that I rather not have had to deal with. I've got blood on my cufflinks and It's just not-"

"He's joking, Sir... of course" Eunseok adds with a quickness, causing you to slap a hand over your mouth to stop you from laughing involuntarily. It is that one movement that illuminates your frame right in Eunseok's line of vision. He watches you from above your father's head as you skulk, quite effectively in the shadows. His eye sparkles in the knowledge that he had made you laugh and your presence alone, albeit unseen, charges the room with something new.

Your father remains quiet for one suspicious moment before murmuring a low yet audible, "Of course," before veering off on his very own tangent.

From atop the mezzanine, you could see every part of the man in your father had hired to protect you. And he was damn good at his job if he was able to spot you so embarrassingly quickly.

None of the other men in the room had any inclination of your presence and that only fuelled your hunger and your confidence. A dangerous combination for a woman indeed. Your hand is already dipping between your legs the second conversation resumes. The shadows are a thin and inconsolable veil but a veil nonetheless. No one that wasn't looking for you would ever see you. Sungchan was engaged in a mind-numbing conversation with your father and as luck would have it, Eunseok seemed to have been the only soul keeping an eye out. So you decide to put on a show.

His breath quite literally hitches in the back of his throat when you lift the hem of your nightgown, up. Ever so slowly lending a patch of skin to the chandelier's warm glow. He watches your hands disappear under your pink cotton shorts with wretched anticipation. His swallows thickly, attempting to nod along to what your father was saying especially because a part of him knew the risk that came with entertaining your disobedience.

The threat of getting shot in the head for ogling his boss's kid, whom he swore to protect, doesn't seem all that daunting as Eunseok let's his gaze drift once again to the balcony above.

Eunseok only catches what the light allows and that's significantly less than what he wants, what he deserves. Your cotton panties are a fleeting, quick sight and he fights the groan off honourably, that wishes to slither through.

"I hope his exit was not too cruel, the old dog." Eunseok does not initially register your father's words, his eyes are piercing into your visage, watching every flit of emotion as you rub yourself through the fabric of your panties. He's bursting with the need to help you, to pull you against him and show you how it should be done. He needs you so bad.

"He did not suffer in his final moments?” Your father asks, stealing Eunseok's gaze from you once again. “I'm sure his wife will be glad to hear this."

Eunseok veers his eye from off of your frame, blinking as if reminding himself of the other people present. "We used the silencer.” Eunseok replies robotically.

Sungchan laughs knowingly from beside him. "-like a virgin in church-OOMPH!" Sungchan could not save his ribs from Eunseok's elbow in time.

As quick as the lighting, your back is once again plastered to the corridor away from the light and any prying eyes. You didn't need to use your eyes to know Eunseok had socked Sungchan in the ribs and you nearly laughed once again. "Jesus Christ, it was only a little metaphor!" Sungchan grumbles.

Your father is quick to excuse their antics for the blatant waste of his precious time that it was. He waves a hand dismissively as he says, "Your work is highly revered and will not go unrewarded, gentlemen. For now, you may retire to the west wing for the evening. We are expecting a storm, driving through the countryside is far more treacherous under these conditions." Your heart accelerates with your father's announcement and you feebly peek from around the concrete corner. Eunseok is already looking at you, and what you find in his eyes strips you of your confidence. His eyes are locked within a promise, drowning in the surety that something, beyond the tempest, was definitely a foot. "We appreciate the hospitality sir," Tan mutters under his breath as he watches you sink into the shadows once more.

When you make it back into your room, you leave the door ajar.

If, by some miracle invoked by an ancient power, you had gotten Sungchan to divulge even the tiniest of details about his partner, he'd tell you that, quiet as he may appear, Eunseok was a fucking whore and that it is of paramount importance that you not pursue him in the slightest. Still, it sets your heart aflame when your bedroom door creaks wider only an hour later and your arms grip the stuffy impossibly tighter.

You're tucked away in bed when you hear a voice speak up behind you, "You should be asleep," His words seem to pierce and excite you. A torrid combination as you peer aimlessly ahead. Your mattress feels weightless beneath you, and every particle in the air only seems to be so completely electrified.

It was interesting that he had maintained such a respectable distance. Everything you knew about the man your father had hired was limited but one thing that remained undeniable was Eunseok's restraint. He was restraining himself quite well.

You sit up to face him, your head haloed by your pillows and stuffed animals like a princess. Eunseok's cock all but twitches at the sight of you. Eunseok hates to admit that he had been nursing a boner ever since your little show on the mezzanine and it made his blood boil. He hated to feel 13 again, with no restraint on his hormonal adolescent hormones.

Even now, under the darkness of your room, shrouded in nothing but moonlight, Eunseok sees everything.

Your nightgown has shifted over the course of your tossing and turning and a nipple peeks out from the gown. His voice is gruff as he whispers, "Spread your legs for me. Spread them like you did before." His cock rages against his pyjama bottoms, begging to see the action he had commanded of you.

"All I could do is scream,” you say instead, always preferring to piss him off even in your most fire moments, “and my father would have a bullet through your skull the very second anyone laid their eyes on you,"

"I'm well aware of that, yes," His voice is laced with monotony and he looks completely inviting as he slams his head back against the wall adjacent to your bed. His lips quirks up ever so slightly as his hand lazily rubs over his hard and aching bulge. "Do you know what else I'm aware of, Dove?"

"What?"

"If you truly wanted me dead, I'd be a heap of blood on guts on this pretty little floor already.” He whispers once again, “Pull the sheets down and open your fucking legs."

His command triggers the obedience lodged in the confines of your brain like a switch. You shift and glide over the soft covers as you watch him across from you. Despite the warmth in your cheeks, you humph and open your legs tentatively for him, the cold air crawling up your heated thighs.

"Good,” he says, “Very good," delirium was fueling his every breath and it only causes the throbbing in between your legs to intensify. You whimper unintentionally but the sound causes his eye to snap up to you.

"Do you need instructions, Dove?”

The most you can manage is a broken, pathetic whimper once more as your hand slides over the swell of your breast to tweak your exposed nipple. A rush slams through your body causing you to clamp your legs shut, much to Eunseok's chagrin. He's so desperate to watch you fuck yourself, so undeniably desperate to just fucking cum and you're still making it completely difficult.

Eunseok's cold eyes snap away from your breast up to your face and you freeze in the snow storm of his glare, “You're not stupid, are you? Listening shouldn't be this fucking difficult-" Eunseok is quick to restrain his frustrations once more, when he notices the slight tension in your shoulders and your wide sad eyes in the wake of his degradation.

"I'm…” Eunseok sighs loudly “Sorry," he says so painfully, monotonously it almost makes you smile. Abandoning his post against the wall, Eunseok trudges to the foot of the bed. A war wages within his emotions and you see it in his face, but the right side (or wrong side) wins as he lowers himself at your feet.

A rough calloused hand finds your soft, supple skin, electing a trail of goosebumps in its wake. It's almost magnetic, the way his large hand travels up and down your leg. "I just need you to do something for me. Can you manage that, Dove?" You nod meekly, and the sight of it only makes Eunseok's cock ache even more.

He hadn't thought it possible to want something this bad, to want to feel anyone this bad. Whenever his need arose, he fucked whomever he wanted to at that very moment, but you had introduced a new set of rules. It seemed sacrilegious to pounce on you like he had done with so many other girls. You seemed so incredibly fragile. So breakable.

"Open these legs for me,” he wiggles your toe causing you to let out a quiet giggle, “Just a little? It'd make me so, so fucking happy. " He presses a soft kiss to your steepled knee and the brush of his soft lips on your skin causes a small moan out of you. The bed dips and the covers shift as you move your feet to accommodate your opening legs. "So good, you're doing so good for me, Sweetheart,"

He shifts in unprecedented anticipation and soon, both his hands find your knees to help coax you open. He breathes in deeply at the sight of your drenched cotton panties. "I'm going to help you just a little. Is that alright?"

"I'd really like that." Your voice is high pitched and small, drenched with the thickness of being caught in the height of subspace and all Eunseok can do is marvel at it all.

"Of course, baby," He delivers soft, ticklish kisses along your thigh as his hands hook into the sides of your underwear and he drags them slowly down, against his animalistic and torrid will. "You're so fucking gorgeous." He melts against your legs and his reaction elicits a wave of butterflies.

"You're so fucking perfect, 'know that?" He asks, still spraying kisses over your leg as he discards your panties into the pockets of his pyjama pants. "But you need to do something else for me alright? I need you to-" Eunseok inhales sharply instead of finishing his sentence.

Your hands had operated with a mind of their own, one hand parting your swollen lips while the other rubs lightly over along your clit. Your head is thrown back at the overwhelming rush of ecstasy that flows through your body and you're only spurred by his heated gaze.

"You're not such an innocent little girl, are you?" His thick vibrato sets your skin alight with need and you moan rather loudly into the night air. "Say it," Eunseok taunts. "Say 'yes daddy, I've always been a little slut for you,'” he was testing you.

Your legs cramp with grating tension and your other hand finds your nipple once more. Your gaze is firmly locked on Eunseok who watches you while seated at the foot of your bed with absolute focus.

"Say it!" He barks and the words slowly mesh out of you like a spewing waterfall.

"I've always been…” you squeeze your eyes shut, letting an unprecedented wave of shame intermix with your arousal, “I've always been a slut."

“For who?” Eunseok's voice is sharp.

“For you.” Your voice is quivering.

“For me who?”

“You, Daddy-”

Eunseok’s restraint drains so completely he wonders of it had even really been there as he grips your ankle and violently pulls you underneath him.

"My good little slut,” he whispers as he makes quick work to replace your flimsy hand on your breast with his strong one. Your backarches as Eunseok hovers above you, as if unconsciously giving your entire body to him. “My little fucking whore. Does that feel good baby?”

All you're able to do is nod with your eyes squeezed shut as Eunseok's hands, which are much more experienced and much more reassuring, tweak your nipples in a way that actually has you gasping into the air.

Through the haze of your delirium, you stop his movements. You guide his hand downwards, to wear he’s needed most.

Once Eunseok's cold calloused fingers make contact with your weeping cunt you immediately detach your hand from his, urging him to make magic out of you.

Your hands could never accomplish what he can and you're immediately shot into hyperspace once Eunseok gets the message and begins to rub your cunt at snail's pace.

,”You're so good you know that?” He flies his gaze from his hand in between your legs to your blissed out face and he plants a kiss to the side of your head as if trying to distract you from his fingers sliding into your cunt.

“Fuck, you know you're making Daddy need you, right? He needs you really badly,” His praise is god and it's all that guides you to your inevitable orgasm. Eunseok's lips against your ear while his index and middle finger fuck you open has you fighting the urge to scream into the night air.

“Your fingers couldn't make you feel good like Daddy's can-” it wasn't a question, you don't think. Thinking proves to be exceedingly difficult as you lift your hips to meet his thrusts while his thumb plays with your clit. All this control from one hand is so fucking impressive to you. Watching him strum you like an instrument as if he were in charge of your entire body has you nearing your edge quicker and quicker.

Eunseok begins to rub furiously at your pussy and you fight to keep your eyes on him. In his billowy shirt and sporting an impressive bulge-his eyes wide and showering you with all the attention, it proves to be far too much."C-Can I-"

"Cum for me, Dove. Cum all over my fingers, baby." And your orgasm is quite literally ripped out of the skies. Your legs quake and your voice quivers as you are flung over the edge. His reassuring murmurs and soft affirmations guide you through it all.You slump against your pillows, basking in the afterglow as you watch the millions of thoughts swim through Eunseok's head.

[melynnwater]

I met god sitting on a park bench.

I thought of my childhood. Of frutiger fields and the sweet embrace of surreality.

Movies I've never seen and games I'll never play.

She smiled at me and the ground cracked beneath my feet.

She extended a pane and I forgot where my hands were.

She found me anyways and pulled me through the event horizon.

Endless windows of every memory. Every experience. Folded into one.

I asked god if I could go back.

She did not understand my question, and apologizes for the distress.

I will say "so is this it?"

"so is this it?"

she will respond "yes"

It is, indeed.

"now what?"

Well. when life becomes another footstep on your path, and infinity boils down to a single wrinkle upon your pinky finger, you might take a different type of look at life.

thats all it was just a little peek

And when you get a look, you realize what we all must realize.

it's all just the peak before the drop. the dark before the light. the last ray of summer's light. yearning for the cold in the warm, aching for the warm when you're freezing cold.

dualities, dichotomies, binaries - they're all arbitrary. none of them matter. that's why you look for the contrast. you find the edge between yourself and I, and you define the fractal that's there along your edge.

you carry that fractal with you, and never forget that infinity is contained within a finite you.

I love you.

[assortedseaglass]

🌟Mistletoe | Yuletide🌟

Michael Gavey x Fem!Reader

Summary: Michael's Christmas plans are scuppered, but a chance encounter lifts his hopes for the New Year.

Content: Fluff, Language.

Yuletide Masterlist

December 15th. The night of the Catton Christmas party in Brasenose College. Term ended a week ago, but the prospect of partying with the university’s hottest boy and his gaggle of gorgeous followers was too delicious to pass up. Freshers to third-years clamoured to rub shoulders with the prime ministers and business men of tomorrow. Any way to get your foot in the door, and maybe some Christmas action too.

The single-pane windows of the old college dorm room rattled to the beat of NOW XMAS, and each time the door opened a pair of drunk undergrads tumbled into the quadrangle.

The latest two, a straw-haired girl in a Juicy Couture tracksuit and a burly boy wearing a rugby polo, stumbled from the old double doors leading to the common room. On their way, between sloppy kiss and over the top giggles, they bumped into a solitary figure.

“Sorry, mate,” the drunk boy said, watching the other young man through alcohol-heavy eyes. The girl beside him eyed the stranger and snorted. “Merry Christmas.”

Hands tucked into his pockets, scarf wrapped neatly around his neck, Michael Gavey stumbled. The pair got no reply, only a cold glance of annoyance as he made for his dorm.

Gold, string-light bulbs decorated Brasenose quadrangle, tacky Christmas trees were perched in various student windows, and the saccharine chorus of Band Aid 20 was shouted from the common room.

Michael didn’t hate Christmas. He quite enjoyed the fuss from his aunties and the jumpers his grandmother bought him. His mum snuck extra roasties onto his plate and his dad made a point to buy him each year’s Telegraph Quiz Book. This year would surely be even better. The pride on his family’s faces, each asking about his first term at Oxford. First one in his family to go to university and he gets into Oxford.

It was precisely because he liked Christmas that this one was so miserable. Michael was neither surprised nor upset when he checked his pigeonhole that morning to see no invitation to the Catton Christmas part. Him and Oliver. A pair of nobodies.

He took the new Nokia his dad got him for his A Levels out of his pocket. No texts. Punching the numbered keys, he sent one to Oliver.

Back at BC. Mince pies and port ready.

The corridor to his dorm room was empty. With the turn of his key, he opened the door. The room was cold. The ancient radiator was ticking into life and the old windows were beginning to fog with condensation. On top of his stack of maths textbooks a bottle of unopened port gleamed.

Turning on his bedside lamp, Michael gathered two dusty glasses his mother insisted he pack with him, and from his Tesco bag produced a pack of mince pies. He placed them on a paper plate and emptied the rest of the carrier bag (wallet, keys, pencil case, workbook) next to the E45 cream and battered copy of GH Hardy’s biography.

The Nokia buzzed aggressively on the table. Removing his scarf, Michael checked the screen. It was from Oliver. He unlocked the phone and checked the small envelope icon.

Something’s come up, sorry.

Michael slumped on the bed. His thumb hovered over the keypad.

Get a better offer, did you?

He deleted the text, locked the screen and threw it on the cheap duvet.

The others would still be at the pub. He could just go back and meet them there. Could, were it not for his pride. It just wasn’t the same, a group of people forced together, as opposed to those who found each other.

The pub was full of his fellow mathematics students. Spotty, eager to please and reeking of desperation to prove themselves. Michael didn’t need to. He watched as they fought for Professor Mathison’s attention, keen to discuss tutorial projects and career prospects. Mathison was already keenly aware of Michael, judging by the way his jaw dropped when Michael recited the Lagrangian form to the last letter.

With Oliver it was different. They were two outsiders, making their way in a world entirely foreign to their own, their intellect their only way in. Now it seemed the friendship Michael was working so hard to cultivate with Oliver was slipping away.  

He stared at the empty glasses. Fuck it. Pouring a little too much port in one of the glasses, Michael stuffed a mince pie into his mouth, grabbed another and made for the door.

The air was crisp, but mild for mid-December. The music of the Catton party across the quadrangle had mellowed, and through the misty windows Michael could make out shapes dancing close together, swaying slowly.

A pang of jealousy twisted in his naval and he twitched awkwardly. He wondered what it would be like, having another body pressed against his. Or rather, to have someone want to be that close to him. His mind flashed to the French girl in tutorial. She’d pressed her leg against his at the pub when Mathison mentioned a partnered project for the new year, and when he’d looked down, he saw her fingers brushing the cuff of his jumper. He’d flinched away.

Everyone was doing it. Quick flings with no regard for consequence. He supposed he could do it too. With the French girl, or the girl with agoraphobia. Lord knows, she was getting as much action as he was. But there was something in his studious nature, his desire for knowledge, that meant he had to be consumed by knowing someone fully, or nothing at all.

Perching his bony bottom on the cold concrete step under an old brick archway, Michael took a gulp of port and began on the mince pie. He took the top off, ate it, and thought of his grandfather, and how he would add brandy butter before replacing the pastry cover. He ate the rest quickly and sipped his port slowly, thinking over the last term. The successes; far and away the best student on the course, and the failures; one (?) friend. It was as he did this that the door behind him opened.

“Shit, sorry! Didn’t see you there!” You hadn’t done anything wrong. Not opened the door on his back or tripped over him. Michael waved his hand noncommittally and without answer. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

He looked up at this. An old grey coat at least a size too big was wrapped around you, a scarf pulled up to your nose and muffling your voice. Michael couldn’t make much of you out, just the eyes peering down at him from above the scarf, but he could tell you were beaming at him. Why?

He gestured to the cold step. You sat beside him, gave him a bright smile that didn’t falter when he stared at you a little too long, and turned to look at the night beyond the small archway.

“Pretty, aren’t they? All the lights?” Michael didn’t respond. He shifted his body slightly away from yours and took another sip of port. You weren’t deterred. “You a Billy-no-mates too then?”

“It’s Norman-no-mates-”

“I don’t think it matters.” You cut him off. “Well?”

Michael turned his face to you. You were still watching the lights but sensed him looking at you. In turn, you looked back at him, unabashed and direct.

“I might have mates waiting inside.”

“You might, but you don’t. You’re out here drinking wine,”

“Port.”

“Port’s just fortified wine. Drinking on your own when everyone’s off partying.”

Michael didn’t blink as he watched you. You weren’t being cruel by making him feel bad for his social ineptitude. Nor were you prying into what it was that made him so deplorable to seemingly everyone in college. No. You were just stating the facts. Michael loved facts.

“NFI.”

“Snap.” You held out your hand and gave him your name. Michael’s heart didn’t leap, but it did give a strange sort of jolt.

“Michael Gavey.” He shook yours and his mouth twitched when you gave him a firm smile.

“What about you? Why are you sitting on a cold step with a stranger?”

“Mate’s back there screaming at her fella cos he necked some girl in Exeter after a Hooch too many.”

“Let me guess, Business Management?”

“The very same.”

There was a contented silence a while. Michael sipped his port and watched you from the corner of his eye. The fingerless gloves you wore were fraying a little. Everything looked second hand. From your slightly battered Mary Janes and baggy jeans to the bag by your feet. Even the scarf still wrapped around your neck. The hair there was bunching under the fabric and a few wisps kept sticking to your lip gloss. Too pretty to be sitting with him, and too rough around the edges to be the usual Catton-fodder.

Michael licked his lips. “What are you reading?” Please be something good.

“Computer Sciences.” Merry fucking Christmas. “You?”

“Maths.”

“Ah, we could have done with you at the pub quiz! ‘How many birds in total are there in the twelve days o-’”

“One-hundred and eighty-four.” Michael rattled off as though the answer was a grocery list. You stared at him, an impressed smile playing at the corner of your mouth. Michael’s heart vaulted that time. He wanted more.

“Ask me anything. I can do any sum.”

You eyed him with barely supressed glee. “Twelve times thirty-one.”

“Three-hundred and seventy-two. Come on, ask me something harder.”

“Three-hundred and seventy-two times eight.”

“Harder.”

“Times twenty-three?”

“Harder.”

You almost shouted with excitement. “Three-hundred and seventy-two times forty-seven!”

“Seventeen-thousand, four hundred and eighty-four.”

You giggled and let out a low whistle. “Fuck me,”

Yes please.

A broad flush spread across Michael’s cheeks and he licked his lips again. “I can also-”

“Better check madam is ok,” your eyes indicated behind you as you took you phone from your pocket. The white light from the small screen was garish amongst the soft golds of the Christmas lights, and Michael’s heart sank as he watched you scroll through your contacts list. So many names. He’d give anything to be among.

He didn’t pay attention to anything you were saying as you chatted to your friend. The shine of your lip gloss beneath the fairy lights was too mesmerising. Michael raised his port glass to his lips, took a sip and let the glass linger there as you ended your call. He was entranced.

“Love you, mate. Alright, chat tomorrow.” You sighed as you hung up and looked at Michael. “Home for me, I think.”

As you stood, Michael did too, pulling his trousers up and tucking his hands into his pockets. “Nice to meet you, Michael.” You shook his free hand again and took the port from the other. He watched, agog, as you downed it in one. “Graham’s? Very nice.” You passed him the empty glass and began making your way to the end of the archway. He followed you like a shadow.

At the end of the passageway into the old quadrangle you turned to face him. “What are you doing for Christmas, Michael?”

“Home,” his voice was unnaturally high and he coughed. “Home, to see family but not much else.”

“And new year?”

“Seeing some boring old school friends then back here before term st-starts-starts,” you were leaning towards him. With no hint of shyness, and perhaps a little too forcefully, you kissed him. You pulled back, smiling.

“What was that for?” The surprise of your lips on his made him shout, and it sounded more hysterical than genuine shock and curiosity.

“Mistletoe,” you stated simply, pointing at the small poesy hanging from the archway.

Michael coughed. “Of course, yeah. Thank you.” He made an odd movement and almost clicked his heels. You laughed again, turning into the dark night.

“See you in the new year, Michael.” Your voice echoed off the old stone walls. Just as Michael expected, you sounded so certain. In all your ten minutes of knowing each other, he’d learned that about you. The statement wasn’t speculation or conjecture. It was a fact. Michael loved facts.

Merry Christmas everyone! I hope it's been a kind and calm one. H x

The usual suspects: @arcielee @targaryenrealnessdarling @theoneeyedprince @ewanmitchellcrumbs @ellrond @cyeco13 @babyblue711 @exitpursuedbyavulcan @humanpurposes @myfandomprompts @barbieaemond @anjelicawrites

[scarletttries]

A Harmless Sleepover (Steven Grant Request)

Pairing: Steven Grant (Moon Knight) x Reader

Rating: Explicit Smut - Gender neutral pronouns through, but AFAB reader for smut purposes - A little bit of somno/dub-con so reader discretion advised there!

Word Count: 2.9k

Author's Note: Brightening up January with a little bit of Steven Grant smut for you all :)

A Harmless Sleepover (Steven Grant Smut)

The noise was overwhelming as the rain thrummed against the windows of Steven's little flat, almost single-handedly keeping you both awake as the credits rolled on the movie you'd brought over for your date tonight. It was still very early days in your relationship with Steven, the sweet handsome museum guide that had spent a flustered hour touring you through halls before finally building up the nerve to ask for your number, but you had a very good feeling. After a dinner date and a surprisingly sunny walk in your local park, you'd suggested a third date at his place, offering to cook as a chance to get a closer look at his home and inner workings. Steven very eagerly agreed, spending all day tidying his little flat and stocking up his fridge, just so overwhelmed at the opportunity to have someone as special as you in his life and his space.

In your past relationships a third date had often meant taking your relationship physical, something you certainly weren't opposed to with Steven, but given it had taken two dates for him to build up the nerve to kiss you, you thought that might be expecting a lot from him tonight. You were very content to just sit shoulder to shoulder with him, watching him let out a giddy giggle every time you placed his hand in yours, and look at you like you were responsible for every ounce of joy in the world. But that didn't mean you weren't looking forward to the night you finally got your hands on him.

A crack of thunder and lightning behind you snapped you out of your train of thought and had you both sitting up straight, glancing out the droplet covered window in dread. You let out a yawn as leant closer to the pane of glass, taking a deep breath to steel yourself to the idea of heading out in the cold and the rain, the cosy comfort of Steven's flat much more appealing.

"You can stay here tonight if you want?" Steven squeaked out meekly, looking shocked with his own boldness, quickly trying to clarify his noble intentions, "Just because it's so miserable out there, and I'd hate for you to catch a cold love. And I wouldn't try anything! I can even sleep on the sofa?" Chivalry was alive and well as you placed a hand gently on either side of Steven's face and brought your lips to softly meet his, before he talked himself into even more of a panic.

"I'd love to sleepover, but you don't have to give up your bed for me, we can share. That way you can keep me warm." You leaned a little closer to him as you spoke, chest pressing gently against his and sending warmth rushing to his cheeks as he broke into his widest grin.

"You can borrow anything you want as well!" His mind raced with the idea of you in his clothes, wanting nothing more than for you to look like a real partner to him, and start getting comfortable in his flat, and in his life. As he rushed off to the bathroom to brush his teeth, almost tripping over in his excitement for bedtime, you took the opportunity to dig through his drawers, pulling out one of his t-shirts to sleep in and slipping off your jeans so only your little shorts remained, hidden by the low hem of his shirt. You wandered barefoot around his bedroom, taking in the piles of books and little trinkets he'd collected to make the space his own, feeling full of affection for your boyfriend as he stepped out of the bathroom and letting his jaw drop at the sight of you.

"You look - wow! That suits you a lot more than it does me!" You made sure to plant a few sweet kisses on his adoring face as you slipped into the bathroom yourself, getting ready for a comfortable night sleep, confident Steven wasn't interested in taking things any further tonight and happy to just spend the night in his strong, warm arms. As you stepped back into his room you noticed him looking a little pensive, wringing his hands together through the oversized sleeves of his sweater.

"Are you sure this is okay Steven?" You ask softly, worried he's reconsidering his generous offer.

"Yes! No! Of course! I really want you here," He shook his head to try and start his brain up again, struggling to form a coherent sentence every time his big brown eyes met your sweet, loving gaze. "It's just I need to warn you - I've been known to sleepwalk. It's not every night, but it happens sometimes, and I wanted to warn you so you're not too surprised, but then I was worried you would think i'm too weird." He frowned and let his eyes drop to the floor, so worried about scaring you off that he couldn't see how deeply smitten you are with him.

"You are the perfect amount of weird, gorgeous, and I'm not going anywhere. Is there anything I need to do if you start walking around at night?"

"I think you're perfect too." He grinned, "And no, it's actually better if you don't do anything. It can apparently be really dangerous to wake someone up if they're sleepwalking so best to just let me wander about I'll get to back to sleeping normally soon enough."

"No problem, I promise I won't wake you up, love." Sliding under the cover you pulled a corner back for him, inviting him beneath the blankets with you and pulling him close as he turned the lights off behind him. "Thanks for keeping me out of the rain."

"Are you kidding, love? Thank YOU for staying. I hope it never stops raining!" Steven choked out excitedly, squeezing you tight and giving you one final sweet kiss before he released his grip on your waist and wiggled to the other side of the bed to give you space.

You could feel your heart fluttering in your chest as you tried to fall asleep, the excitement of this new closeness with Steven painting a smile across your cheeks as you resisted the urge to turn around to see how cute he looked when he fell asleep. It felt like an hour had passed when you heard him turn back towards you, taking a peek to confirm his eyes were peacefully shut, his soft breathing and parted lips a heartwarming sight in such an easily worried man. You turned away again and let your own eyes flutter shut, head swimming with thoughts of Steven as you heard him inch closer towards you, until his chest met your back, an arm snaking over your waist so his hand could rest on your stomach. You felt yourself tense then melt under his touch, his broad hand spreading warmth across your abdomen even through the fabric of his borrowed shirt. His fingers began to move in soft shapes, tracing invisible patterns from your ribs to your hips, the gentle caresses soothing you to sleep as his other arm slipped under your neck to fully envelope you.

His fingertips came to rest where the hem of shirt had ridden up your hips, and in one smooth motion his hand dipped underneath, returning to its gentle dance across your stomach but now pressed against your tingling skin. You gasped a little at the warmth of his touch and delicate sensation against you, very carefully turning your head just enough to check he was still asleep. You could see the peaceful slumber in all his features and remembered his warning that you weren't to wake him up when he started to sleepwalk, even if his actions weren't exactly what you expected. You tried to hold your breath steady as his fingers climbed over your skin, rising and pulling the shirt up with them until you could feel the cool night air hit your exposed chest. His exploring fingers brushed over your nipple, drawing soft circles that had you stifling a sigh as he teased the sensitive skin over and over again. His other hand quickly lifted any remaining fabric out the way so it could pay equal attention to the other side of your chest, grazing his thumb over you until both nipples had stiffened as his touch, a pit growing in your stomach over what to do. You didn't want to risk harming him by waking him up, scared of what unknown damage that could do, but you weren't sure you should just let him feel you up as he slept, your own hands clenching as his teasing touch sent shivers down your spine.

"Steven?" You whispered sharply, needing to know if this was just his way of making a move, having never heard of anyone sleepwalking quite like this. There was absolutely no change in his expression, his lips parting in a content sigh as he began to knead and squeeze at your chest, his fingertips flicking over your nipples every few seconds to keep your sensitivity on edge. You took a sigh of relief as his arm on your waist started to lower away from your chest, not sure how much of this sweet torture you could take, until the hand trailed down to your inner thigh, slipping between your legs and starting to massage the tender flesh there. Heat pooled unwillingly in your belly as you thought about trying to push him off, sure he would be mortified if he knew what he was doing, but terrified of hurting him in some way if that woke him up.

As the hand between your thighs drifted higher it found the edge of your little shorts, making your whole body flinch in anticipation. One finger hooked inside the dampening fabric and slid them down just enough to leave you completely exposed. Before he could go any further you tried to inch your hips away from him, not sure if you wanted him to stop, or to give you everything he had. The moment you moved a muscle Steven's body tensed, hand against your chest squeezing more firmly, one knee slotting between your thighs to lean his weight on your bottom leg stopping you from shifting further away as he groped at your thighs again.

You bit down on your lip as he traced a line up over your slit, one finger coated in your excitement as it brushed your clit painfully lightly. Each of his fingers followed the same teasing path, barely providing any friction and only making you agonisingly more sensitive. Finally his thumb came to rest over your clit, rubbing tight circles ever so gently, the wetness from your folds helping it glide so softly over your sensitive button. You could feel a moan stirring inside you as your stomach tensed, his fingers grazing your nipples in time to his thumbs expert strokes, clenching your eyes shut and trying not to think about the way he had your body completely trapped under his weight. It felt like hours passed of these soft circles stirring up the pleasure inside you without giving you any hope of relief. Your clit throbbed at his every touch, desperate for release after so long on the edge, your orgasm held just slightly out of your reach. One finger slowly dipped inside you, your walls clenching in need around it, the limited contact sending a wave of fresh pleasure and sensation through your core without bringing you any closer to the easing the uncontrollable pressure building inside you. You could feel his grip on you tighten every time your body squirmed against his, your thighs trembling and hips bucking of their own volition, chasing the high you so painfully needed.

"Steven, please." You let out a quiet plea, unable to contain yourself any longer, the overwhelming sensation almost unbearable, your body writhing against his as desperate whimpers escaped your needy lips. Even fast asleep he seemed to hear your prayer, sliding two more fingers easily into your drenched entrance and stretching you as both hands started to move harder and faster. One thumb strummed your nipple as the other rubbed firm stroked over your clit, his fingers thrusting in and out of you as fast as you could take them, the sounds of your wet folds and whimpers filling the room as the coil inside you snapped and had you shaking in his arms, the force of cumming after such a tantalising weight making it so hard to stay quiet. It felt like every cell in your body was electrified, his movements not slowing down as you rode out the waves of pleasure, feeling overwhelmed by the way he touched you, the feel of his warm breath on the back of your neck, the steady sound of his gentle sleeping sighs. Those soft breaths made you conflicted about cumming as hard as you ever had on his still working hands, not sure if you ever actually wanted to stop him, or if you even could with the way his strong arms clung to you like he was never going to let you go. You could feel your pleasure building again through the way he caressed your now even more sensitive places, overstimulation leaving you panting out his name and fighting against his all-consuming grip. As you were brought the edge of another climax, no longer in control of your own pleasure and forced to take whatever a sleeping Steven wanted to give you, his touch suddenly stopped, fingers pulling away as you let out a desperate whine, so close to another long awaited release and your whole body tingling for his touch. With his arms back by his side, you noticed his eyes slowly blink open, surprised to see you still awake too.

"You still awake love? Is everything okay?" He cooed the words so sweetly you almost couldn't believe the same man had driven you to the edge of insanity and ecstasy just moments before, aching body taking control before you could reconsider. Tugging the half removed shirt over your head and kicking off your shorts, you move to strandled a very wide eyed Steven's hips, grinding your soaking entrance over the obvious erection he was barely aware of before now.

"I need you Steven. Please! Can I feel you inside me?" You paused your movements as you awaited response, hoping somehow in his sleep he'd managed to get just as frustrated as you had, watching his mouth fall open as he nodded furiously, half convinced he was still in one of his favourite dreams. You lifted your hips to tug down his sweatpants, his impressive length springing free and only making the ache in your gut more unbearable. You leant forward to run your tongue over him a few times, watching his eye roll back into his head at the soft, warm sensation of your lips, panting out,

"You feel so incredible. Oh my god. Are you sure you want to do this?" Interlaced with needy moans of your name as you nodded your head and lined him up with your dripping entrance.

"I want you so much, need you." Was all you could choke out in your daze as you slid him inside of you, the pressure already building inside you again as you felt so perfectly full. "You feel so good Steven. Make me feel so full." Every sweet, dirty word from your lips is almost more than Steven can take, no idea what he's done to deserve this but very happy to get swept along in your excitement. He could feel how soaked you were around him, pussy clenching as you rode him, running your hands down your body as the temperature inside you climbs and climbs.

"You're so perfect love, so gorgeous, too good for me. Feel bloody amazing." He moans out as his hands replace yours, instinctively toying with your nipples before one drifts down to frantically rub against your clit, Steven knowing he can't take more than a couple of minutes of something that feels this incredible. He can feel the way your hips buck in response, losing their rhythm as finally your orgasm washes over you again, vibrating through your centre and making you gush around Steven as your whole body reacts. You can feel him spill inside you, unable to hold back for even a second longer to try and pull out, overwhelmed by the incredible feeling of cumming deep between your walls as they spasm around him, his mind completely shutting down in pure ecstasy. You practically collapse on his chest as you finally come down from your high, slowly easing your hips off his before your excitement or frustration can start to build again, and hearing him whimper as you slide off of him.

In the morning Steven will tell you he thought last night was amazing, and that he's glad he didn't disrupt you with his sleepwalking. You'll tell him you're going to be sleeping over more often, and that his sleepwalking doesn't bother you one bit.

[rkay07]

The Traveler

c!Technoblade x fem!reader

(I don't have time to put warning so read at your own risk I guess and this is an UNFINISHED fanfic so sowwy (:)

Word Count: 6.1k (that's a big number)

Living alone has its benefits, privacy, everything and anything is on your own time, and you don’t have to worry about anybody. At least almost anybody.

You were having some time up in your attic reading about potions, even though you’ve read that book about seven times already. You zoned out, staring off out the window. It took you a second but you came back and focused on the snow that was falling outside, you smiled at yourself knowing that you haven’t gotten fresh snow for a good couple days. Admiring the scenery, you stared off into the distance at the trees. Beautiful spruce trees, covered in white powder is something you couldn’t get enough of when you looked out from your house. In all the years you’ve lived here alone, you never took them for granted. You get up from your chair and stand in front of the window, opening up your view to the whole field of snow you had. You leaned on the window sill and closed your eyes as you felt the coldness from the glass pane kiss your face.

You grinned and opened your eyes. But as your eyes adjusted, you could see wrestling off to the side of the tree line. The tree branches tossed and turned with leaves falling from the disturbed sticks, you were eager to see what it was but you didn’t have a great view. So as fast as you could possibly go, you booked it for your ladder, sliding down and hopping over your stairs to get to your front door windows. You grabbed your bow and arrows as you flew through your room, setting up right in front of the tree that was still moving rapidly. Honestly, you weren’t scared but confused, you thought the thing was trying to get something out of the tree but what? There was no food in the spruce trees. It was very strange to you. You thought about it again and took a deep breath setting your bow and arrows down under the window. You unlocked your door and headed out onto the porch, you had your sword with you in case of an emergency.

The tree line was a great deal away from your house, 25 yards to be exact. As you slowly walked up to the forest you thought it might be your horse that had gotten lost a couple days earlier while you were hunting for rabbits in the same forest but he could have been anywhere. You got a few feet away from the forest when you heard murmuring like someone was talking to themselves so you held your ground, planting your feet in the snow and having your sword ready behind you. You hesitated to speak but then it stopped, the talking had stopped. You froze at the sound of silence, your eyes narrowed in on the trees, jolting at the slightest movement. You held your breath but your heart rate sped up, skipping a beat when a rabbit jumped out a little ways down the tree line. You focused on the place in front of you trying not to become impatient with the lack of noise. You took one step forward but a voice from beyond the trees' bold and thick vibrates your head, “Don’t.” It said. So you stopped, daring not to take another step for the sake of not knowing what’s back there. The voice speaks again but sounding softer this time, “I’m just passing through but I think I have something that’s yours.” You scrunch your eyebrow together, not really thinking of what this person might have.

You hear sticks crack and see branches move as the person steps closer towards you. You take a big breath and a single step back when you finally see what was talking to you, tall, short pink hair, and tusks. Wait, no, he’s wearing a mask but still tusks? Huge cape too, gosh he looked like royalty. You slid your sword back into its spot and straightened up, “Sorry.” Was all you could muster at the sight of him. He continued to walk out from the forest, making a path with his sword through the branches. He had a horse with him, it was walking behind him, slow and tired, it looked like it hadn’t rested in days. When the man finally got into a good spot off the tree line, he turned around and clicked his tongue, “Is this your horse?” Your horse came running out of the trees, bucking and trotting around the snow like he hasn’t seen snow in forever. You chuckled and smiled at the sight of your horse prancing around, “Oh my goodness, Rusty! Where have you been?” You glance at the man petting his horse and decide to walk over to Rusty, your horse.

When you got Rusty settled down you walked back to the man and stuck your hand out, “Thank you, sir.” He looked at your hand, finger tips red and cold from standing outside for a little too long. He took your hand and firmly shook it. His hand was warm despite it being frigid outside. You took your hand back and turned to look at your house and back to him, “This sounds odd but would you like something to eat? I just got done making some mushroom soup and I think your horse would enjoy hanging out in my barn for a little bit.” You gave him a weak smile and cocked your head. He looked over your shoulder towards your house and at the barn that was a bit farther away. He looked at his clock and finally back at you, “I don’t think so.” He started to walk off, every step going deeper into the snow. You press your lips together at his statement, “It’s the least I could do for you because you found my horse.” He shook his head and kept on walking but his horse stopped behind him. The man turned around to his horse and gave the reins a tug, signaling that he wanted to keep going but the horse had other plans. His horse turned around and walked back to you. He nudged your arm and rubbed his face against it, “How long have you guys been walking?” You tried to sound caring more than anything. He exhaled and walked to his horse, mumbling under his breath, “A day or two.” He took his horse by the reins and pulled him away from you. “Have you rested at all?” You ask, trying to look around his horse and at him. You could hear him murmuring to himself again, the same exact tone you heard earlier behind the trees. You could tell the horse was tired the moment you saw it and now questioning if he’s even rested for a straight day or two. You look at Rusty and signal him to go to the barn, he stomps his foot and trots off to the barn as you walk with the man and his horse.

“I think you would get to wherever you’re going faster if you rest for a couple hours.” You said quietly, wondering if he even heard you. It takes a couple seconds before the man stops in his tracks making the horse bump into him. The man turns around and faces you. Not prepared for you to be so close to him, he stepped back, “Fine. But when I’m done, I’m gone.” You smile and start walking to the barn.

You made a bowl for you and the man as he sat over at the table, you occasionally looked back at him sitting there very quietly. You hadn’t had another person in your house for a very long time and it felt weird but not uncomfortable. You grabbed the two bowls and took them to the table. You sat across the table from the man, you had so many questions and you didn’t know why. He probably didn’t know the answers to them anyway so you asked a more relevant question to break the silence, “So where are you traveling to?” You had looked up from your bowl but he didn’t, he kept his eyes on his bowl. Looking at it like it was going to be the last meal he was going to eat. You put your eyes back on your bowl and took a sip from your spoon, you were a little surprised, you had made the soup very good this time. You got a little excited because you got to share with someone else but you kept your cool and kept eating.

He looked up from his bowl and at you, seeing that you were eating the soup, that made him feel a little better about eating it but it was still questionable. His skepticism got in the way of him actually enjoying a meal with you, he couldn’t go anywhere without feeling like everyone was out to get him. He was looking at you longer than he should have, observing a person that he had never seen before. His eyes widened when he realized that he might have a crush on you, he immediately looked back at his bowl and started eating. He had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time he would see you. And next time wouldn’t be an accident.

He did what he said, he was gone when he was done. You watched from your porch as he galloped away on his horse, set off down the field and into the forest again. He was gone in a blink of an eye. You felt this warmth inside you that you had never felt before, you were outside on your porch in freezing temperatures and you felt warm, you thought you were going crazy, it was so unknown to you. You walked back inside and closed the door behind you. You sighed leaning against your front door. You thought about the man and buried your face in your hands, you never got his name. You were ashamed of yourself, asking where he might be going instead of asking him what his name was. You couldn’t believe yourself. You pushed off the door and started to walk to the stairs when you saw a napkin still on the table where the both of you ate. You picked it up to throw it away in the trash but it had writing on it, you couldn’t help but read it. 

The name’s Technoblade but you can call me Techno, I’m headed off to the town a few miles from your house. If you don’t mind, I'd like to stop by your house again on my way back.

You smiled at the note and walked up to your room, happier than ever.

You waited for him to come back, you were excited to see him again but got a little worried when it hit the fourth day. You tried your best not to think about it like hanging out with Rusty and moving hay bales but it was hard not to.

You were outside when you heard trotting in the distance, a big smile was plastered on your face when you saw Techno on his horse. You stopped what you were doing and walked to your porch to greet him. You took your gloves off and set them on the thick railing of the porch and crossed your arms. You grinned as he slowed down. He got off and whispered to his horse, the horse pranced around finally making its way to the barn where it found Rusty eating some hay. He took one step onto the stairs but stopped, he looked across the field from where he came from and took a second to stare. You noticed he had a little more emotion on his face than last time, he looked worried. You pressed your lips together, “What’s wrong?” You asked, taking a step down. He closed his eyes and was still facing the field, he didn’t know how to put it but he wasn’t at all worried. He turned back to you, “Nothing.” A smile tugged at his lips but never seemed to form. You nodded your head and walked into the house, he followed close behind, closing the door to not let the nice warm heat escape the house.

It was colder than usual at your house so you had the fireplace going. Techno sat in the seat he sat in the previous time, staring at the fireplace. He couldn’t tell if the heat was coming from the burning wood or his blushed cheeks. To be honest, he was also delighted to see you again and he was hoping that he could spend more time with you and not just on this occasion. He liked the company, and knew you did too but he didn’t know if you liked him. He whipped his head towards you when he heard you speak, waiting to hear that lovely voice of yours for days. “So do you have family? Brother, Sister, Father, Mother?” He was caught off guard by your question, he thought about an answer, one that wasn’t so complicated. He didn’t want to lie so he only said the basics, “A Father, a wonderful Mother, and…” he paused, you thought you heard him sniffle but it was probably you. He rubbed his chin before he finished his sentence, “And a little Brother.” You smiled at yourself, knowing he had family made him seem not so big and scary but a lovable giant. You picked up the board of bread, cooked chicken, and two wooden plates and walked over to the table sitting in the same spot as last time. You notice that he took off his big cape, exposing the rest of his figure. You thought you were prepared to see but he looked too hot. He was wearing a tight wool long sleeve making his arms seem massive, and brown wool pants that looked comfy as clouds. You didn’t know if he knew what he looked like but if he didn’t you would show him one day.

It seemed like the both of you talked for ages but when Techno checked his clock, only three hours had passed. He wanted to hit the road but he didn’t want to leave you here all alone. He was tempted to ask you if he could stay the night but his mind quickly discarded it. When you saw him check his clock you knew it was time for him to go, you got up and stacked everything. You made your way to the sink, rinsing the board and plates off. You rinsed your hands, drying them off with a towel. You started walking back to the table but Techno was already sitting on your couch watching the wood pop and sparks flying in the air. A smile tugged at your lips as you looked at him, you walked over to the couch across from him and sat down. You looked at the fire mesmerized by its light, your gaze trailed off to Techno. Your eyes met his, that made heat rush to your cheeks and your eyes widened slightly. He had taken off his mask before you guys ate but his facial feature glowed in the light of the fire, you couldn’t help but stare.

He leaned back onto the couch, putting his foot on his knee and resting his arm on the back of the couch. You had to look away before you walked over to him and kissed the living daylight out of him. You grinned as you looked down at your hands, “You’ll be traveling in the dark if you don’t leave soon.” You sounded as if you were trying to convince not only him but yourself too. He nodded and tapped his leg. He knew he had to go but he was convinced that you liked him back. He didn’t want to push it though and tapped his leg again. He got up and walked over to you. He held his hand out and waited for you to take it, “Thank you for letting me stay.” You took his hand but didn’t expect him to pull you into his arm and hold you by the waist. You were starstruck looking up at him, he was so tall and muscular, at that moment you didn’t know what to do.

Your brain froze for a second from being so close, his body was at your fingertips. But you knew better if you wanted him to at least have some sun for his travels you would have to let him be for the time being, “Anytime.” He leaned down as if to kiss you but hugged around your waist, bringing you up on your tippy toes. You hugged him back, wrapping your arms around his neck and burrowing your face into the crook of his neck. He hugged you back even tighter when you did that, moving his hand from your back to the back of your shoulder basically strapping you against him. You felt safe, that was something you didn’t feel very often but with him you were never going to get hurt. You ran your fingers through his surprisingly untangled hair, you leaned back but he held you close. You chuckled, cupping his face with your hands, “Would you like to take anything for the road?” The words of your request slipped your mind but he took notice of your ‘mistake’. He opened his eyes and looked deep into yours, if looks could kill. He tucked some hair behind your ear, “You.” Your lips curled into a soft smile and butterflies formed in your stomach. You shook your head and patted his shoulder, not believing what he said, “I meant food, Silly.” You made your way back to the kitchen and he followed you, walking incredibly quiet, “And I meant you.” You shook your head once more.

He ended up not taking food but he did take some night vision potions you had and some fire resistance. He was impressed by how many books you had of, well, everything. From potions to cooking, from ruins portals to strongholds. He had mentioned earlier that he was the boredest man alive when he was traveling through the tree because he couldn’t go fast unless he wanted to hit a tree at 35 mph. So you gave him a book of his choice because you don’t like being bored yourself and that gives him a reason to come back but to be honest he didn’t need a reason to come back to you.

It was over two weeks until you saw him again. It was a relief to see him and his horse walking out of the forest and finally getting to have time with him. You weren’t letting him leave until you got at least one kiss. You leaned on the porch watching him signal his horse off to the barn, the horse trotted away behind the house but you kept your gaze on Techno. He kept his eyes on the ground for his own reasons, walking up the stairs and finally looking at you. He looked sad but smiled anyway. You smiled back at him as you cocked your head, tilting up when he got close to you. You blinked at him, you would never get used to his massive stature, you were tiny compared to him and you think he liked it. He moved some hair out of your face and behind your ear. He glided his thumb across the skin of your cheek, you were cold and hot at the same time. You closed your eyes as you melted into his touch, “We should get inside.” Your voice soft and shy. He was taken aback with the sudden change of appearance, he nodded and let you lead the way with his hand on your back.

You went to the kitchen as usual but he followed this time. He hung his cape and mask up and walked over to the counter that you weren’t using and leaned against it. Your back was turned to him but you knew he was staring, tracing your body with curiosity and affection. A slight smile appeared on his face as you turned to give him a bowl of beetroot soup, your shocked expression came across your face when your eyes met his. And it didn’t help when you saw his smile get bigger, his canines showing and his hands on the counter. You raised the bowl to him and he took it, sipping on it as he looked at you. You didn’t know what to make of it, you stood there quite flabbergasted and he liked every moment of it. You stepped closer to him and leaned against the same counter he was, you finally felt ok to eat. You didn’t if you were uncomfortable with it or if it was just awkward to you but it didn’t matter because you snuggled next to him and he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. He rubbed your arm and took a sip from his bowl. The both of you sat in silence for a while before speaking, enjoying each other's company.

You guys had a few things in common, like you both lived alone, you both lived in snowy areas, and you both liked reading. Not much but it was enough to get on topics you could talk about for hours. You and Techno were sitting across each other on the couch, the fire going ablaze and your conversation getting hotter by the minute. You felt the tension between you and him but you were nervous, you didn’t know how he was going to respond so you stayed put, holding your tongue every time you thought your remark was too much.

He saw how jittery you were and wanted to make sure you were ok, “How long has it been since you’ve had someone else in your house?” He leaned forward his elbows on his knees, your mouth parted slightly at the sight but you were brought back instantly, thinking about his question for a moment. You messed with your fingers as you spoke, “Honestly I can’t remember the last time I had company other than you in my home…” you trailed off, your gaze landed on the very bright fire, dancing in the fireplace. You had the sudden urge to cry, tears filled your eyes and you didn’t know why. You quickly rubbed your eyes and face, trying to remove any evidence of sadness off. You felt the couch shift and strong arms wrap around your shoulders, big hands softly rubbing up and down your back. He was unbelievably soft to the touch, he wasn’t scary at all to be clear, someone couldn’t be any further from the truth if they said he was scary. Sure, he was humongous and built like a spruce tree but that wasn’t even close to his heart, he cared, he cared about you. He had one leg on the couch and one foot on the ground, you moved in between his legs and leaned against his chest. It didn’t seem like he was phased but he was, but not because you were close to you know what but because you were so small, you fit perfectly between his legs and he couldn’t get enough of it. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you as close as possible which was actually quite close but you didn’t care. You settled into him and held onto his arms, you couldn’t believe how thick his forearms were so you stared at them as you tried to calm down.

He couldn’t help but think that it was his fault that you started crying. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck and whispered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He nuzzled even further into your neck to hide his flushed face. You chuckled lightly, “No…no, you didn’t make me cry.” You brought your hand up to his hair and ran your fingers through it. He chuckled and came out of his hiding place, resting his chin on your head for a second. You looked up at him and gave him a soft smile, he cocked his head and smiled back. You moved your hand down to his jaw and gave his lips a couple glances. He took notice and cupped your cheeks with a free hand, wiping a tear that had escaped from your eye. He examined your face and gave your forehead a gentle kiss. You looked up at him with pure fondness, you didn’t kiss him, it wasn’t time but maybe you should have because before you know it someone’s knocking on your door.

You looked at the door shocked, almost scared. You never get visitors, never. This was frightening. You look at Techno, he saw how scared you were and told you to either not move or go up to your room and see if you can see anything. You nodded and quietly sprinted up the stairs, finding your bow and arrows and peered out the window. You had a perfect view but the porch was covered by the awning. You saw no horse standing out in the snow so you were confused by how anyone could get to your house from anywhere if this person didn’t have a horse. You sat up there, waiting for absolutely anything, then you heard Techno open the door.

Techno watched as you ran up the stairs making sure you got up before he pulled anything out. He was silent, not making a sound whatsoever, he picked up his cape and satchel from the bench next to the front door and pulled out his sword. He looked through the window next to the door, being as stealthy as possible. How could he miss the guy standing outside? It was the last person he ever wanted to see, especially at your house. It was like seeing a ghost, this guy was thought to be dead but he was standing right outside the front door. He took a deep breath and gripped his sword behind his back. He put on his mask and opened the door slowly. “Hi.” The man spoke as if he was waiting for this moment his whole life. He had a huge scar across his eye that the one and only Technoblade had given him not so long ago. Techno held the blade by his side to show that he wasn’t messing around. “Oh come on, Techno. I’m just here to chat. Nothing more should happen unless you decide to be difficult.” Techno narrowed his eyes and scanned the man, he trusted him once but after what happened, after he tried to execute him, it would be the last time he could ever trust that man again. Techno stepped out onto the porch, appearing much taller than said man, “What do you want, Quackity?” Quackity grinned looking all around the porch, the floor, the walls, the windows. He sighed, “Techno, you know how it goes- I find you…I kill you.”

You stared at the tree line, questioning if this person had more people with them. You could hear muffled conversation, a short conversation, from downstairs. You slowly opened your window to pull your bow back, ready for some action. You stepped back to be more in the room, hidden in the dark shadows. Straight away you saw movement in the trees and pulled back all the way. You saw a person, who seemed to be taller than Techno, walk out of the forest holding an axe. Then right after him was another person, shorter than the one before, holding a crossbow already loaded and pointed at the porch. You had multi-shot on your bow so this was a piece of cake, it seemed as if time slowed to a snail’s pace. Your eyes jolted around the treeline, no one else was coming, you could feel it so you lined up for a shot but they dropped their weapons.

Two guys emerged out of the trees, one after another. One holding an axe and one holding a loaded crossbow. Techno chuckled at their gesture, “You really think you can kill me, after you failed to do it the first time.” He steadily raised his sword, resting it on Quackity’s chestplate, “Put it down Tubbo.” He said looking over Quackity’s shoulder, “You too Ranboo.” They only gripped their weapons tighter, eager to get a hit but knew they had to wait for the signal. Techno breathed out in disappointment, he really thought after everything they’ve been through he would put it down, for him. Techno leaned down to Quackity’s ear, “I can kill all three of you in a heartbeat.” Quackity gulped as Techno leaned back, straightening up he let the tip of his sword drop to the ground. Making quite a loud thud but surprisingly you didn’t hear it. Techno glanced at all three of them knowing they weren’t leaving until he was finally dead, “Fine. One last fight. But first let's get even, you take off your armor and I’ll take off mine and we’ll only use swords.” Quackity stared at Techno for a second to see if he was kidding but he was not. He turned around and gestured to lower their weapons, they dropped the weapons in the snow. The axe sank lower than the crossbow into the fresh blanket of snow that came that morning. Techno watched as they threw the weapons, taking a breath as a sigh of satisfaction. Techno and Quackity took off their armor at the same time, not breaking eye contact from one another. An evil grin appeared on Quackity’s face, “You’ll be lucky if you even get a scratch on me.” He threw a right hook to Techno but it couldn’t compare to his reflexes as he caught the punch and twisted around to his back, making him walk towards the porch stairs as Techno’s sword was held across his neck. They got to the first step of the stairs, Tubbo picked up his crossbow but it was too late, an arrow went straight for his shoulder, sending him to the ground. Ranboo looked up to see where the arrow came from but he saw nothing but an empty window, he went for the crossbow hoping to grab it before the next shot came but another arrow went right through his forearm. It sent a shock of pain through his arm up his shoulder making him wince and grip where the arrow was. Techno pressed his lips together, “See, told you I could kill all three.” Quackity stared at the aching bodies in the snow, “Well where’s the third one?” His breathing was now heavy, probably from adrenaline and the lack of heat running through his body. Techno shook his head and pushed Quackity into the soft snow, “I was going to spare you but I guess I’ll have to put another scar on you for you to understand.” As Techno talked he took a small step down the stairs, one after another after another and after another, making each second more painful than the last. Until he was standing over Quackity with his sword in his face, waiting for him to make the last snarky remark he would ever make for the rest of his life.

After shooting a couple shots, you saw a man fly down the stairs of your porch into the snow. Techno walked down the stairs, talking while he was taking steps, finally getting to the man and looking down at him with the sword in the man’s face. You had your bow ready for another shot, ready to take it whenever. You saw Techno kneel down to the man, gliding the sword not even an inch over his skin. Your eye caught the guy with the crossbow, trying to take a shot again. You fired and missed by a centimeter, as you quickly grabbed another arrow you heard someone gasp in pain. Pulling back and firing again. You sent the arrow straight through the guy’s other shoulder, he poofed into thin air before he hit the ground. 

Techno knelt down to the ground and glided the sword across Quackity’s face, “You can avoid all pain if you leave right now.” Two arrows were fired, one missing and one hitting Techno’s right peck, he hummed in pain trying to keep his noise level to a zero. There was a moment before another arrow was fired hitting Tubbo and sending him back to respawn, wherever that may be. Quackity looked to see who was shot, his eyes widening when he only saw Ranboo. He looked back at Techno, who was trying to stop the bleeding, he looked up past his shoulder and saw you standing in the window with your bow pulled back aiming at him. He tried to squirm out from under Techno but he pierced Quackity’s leg before he could get away, “Finish him!” Techno yelled, knowing you were up at the window. You breathed out and let go of the arrow, it went flying straight for him, penetrating him and he was gone in a cloud of dust with only a blood stain left behind in the white snow. Techno was unbalanced and dizzy from losing blood. Stumbling to get up, he used his sword as a cane to help him. He looked up at Ranboo, “Go. It would be a waste of your time to try and fight me.” Ranboo honestly didn’t know what to do, he could either fight and die or run and hide. And he chose the better option. Run and hide. He disappeared back into the woods and ran for his life.

You ran out to Techno to help him get up the stairs, he was slow but ‘stable’ as you took off his mask. You got him inside, setting him on the ground with a pillow to rest his head. You laid him down on the floor and took a look at him, it didn’t hit anything severe which was great. You moved some hair out of his face and slid your hand to his neck, “You’re going to be fine.” He nodded and let out a light cough. You got up and ran to your kitchen, grabbed your box of potions and pulled out regeneration and healing potions. You also grabbed a bunch of bandages from your box and quickly get back to Techno. You set all the bottles down and gave it to him one by one, you could already see he wasn’t so tense anymore. You asked him if he could take off his shirt, for medical reasons, and he said yes but he also told you that this wasn’t the only way to ask him if he could take it off. You scoffed and helped him take the shirt off. He was more handsome than you could ever imagine, his pecs were huge, his shoulders also huge and those light abs. You blinked away the images and carefully pulled the arrow out, you tried your best to be soft but it was an arrow. You swiftly wrap him up in the white bandage, applying all your pressure to the wound so it would stop bleeding.

When you were done, he took your hand. His touch was gentle as he ran his thumb up and down the back of your hand. His hand was cold for once, it felt like you were holding ice that was never going to melt away. You put your hand under his, raising it up and rubbing it against your cheek. He looked at you with love in his eyes, “Thank you.” He gave you a small smile and you smiled back. You set his hand down beside him and leaned down, giving him a kiss on the forehead. He leaned into the kiss wanting you to stay there for a little longer. You gave him a couple more kisses on the forehead before resting against his. You moved more strands of hair off his forehead as you spoke, “You need to rest.” He looked up at you, lightly gliding his fingers up and down your arm. He nodded and you nodded as well, you got up to go make something to eat but he held onto you. You looked back at him concerned but he had a smirk on his face, “Stay with me.”

[heartthrobin]

paint my sunset peach (1)

mechanic!eddie munson x farmgirl!reader

wc: 6.71k

warnings: reader is a little bit of a meanie, dirty sweaty eddie, hella pining, sunshine!eddie + grumpy!reader, swearing but otherwise pretty wholesome, limited use of y/n

an: i started writing this literally months ago and only finished it recently, super duper proud of it :))) this will be part one of a (probably) three part series. let me know if you want a tag in part 2 !!! i tried to tag all those who liked this post so thanks for the support - love you all <33

summary: the conveyer belt of mech-heads you dealt with on a weekly basis were nothing more than a side-show annoyance. but god, the auto-shop had never sent one with such round, wet brown eyes before.

part two

Before the auto-shop, on the corner at the intersection of Lovett and Harwood, was a Chinese restaurant.

The Red Lotus.

On Friday nights as a kid, daddy would drive into town and return with a steaming white bag of fried rice and dumplings. Sometimes, when they had in stock, he'd bring a single mooncake to share between him and you.

It was family run, the Zhou's. Three sons and a daughter.

They closed down right after you graduated, tired of the middle of nowhere-ness. The tractors rumbling loudly through town at six o' clock every morning, the shaky cell reception and the incessant knock of evening frogs on the porch.

Tired of butt-fuck nowhere Tennessee.

It stood empty for two years. Sometimes you'd pass it in your truck and remember them, other times you wouldn't even look.

But now, now it stood as a brand new garage. Or at least the tiny town's excuse for "brand new".

Daddy's friend, Mister Carl Abernathy, owned it.

He was a short stocky man, bald all over and you'd never seen him without a cold bottle of cider and the remnants of it’s sweat staining down his creased button-up.

You knew that only because he was always around: lots of things on the farm needed fixing up.

Weeds crept up into the tires of the tractors, age beat at the truck you used to move in and out of town - crates of peaches bouncing jovially over each bump.

Every time they needed a looking at, Carl would send over the bonehead of the week.

The same white pull-up would brake loudly outside the farmhouse door, always somewhere around nine: just in time to disturb your breakfast, and one of his latest recruits would hop out.

They’d lean haughtily against the large wheel of the dying blue tractor.

"Well, looks like we've got a problem on our hands here, hey little missy?"

They weren’t even worth the effort it took to roll your eyes. No shit.

The farm didn't make nearly enough from the weekend markets in bigger nearby towns, or the pennies of the townsfolk to afford new vehicles. So, you stuck it out with each caveman Carl sent your way.

And you were fine with it.

Mostly fine with it.

Sure, some of them were vulgar: they'd whistle at you or comment on your ass when you passed them working. Others could only succeed at making the vehicle worse than when they'd started, but it was your job to sort them out.

Could you have gone off with your high school friends to college? Sure.

Maybe.

But that’d leave Daddy all alone in that big house. You pushed away the thought when it surfaced to bug you.

Your mother had disappeared long before you knew her, exhausted - like the Zhou's - of being nowhere.

Maybe of being no one. Perhaps of being a no one peach farmer with the grump that was your daddy and a toddler zooming at her feet.

Either way, it didn't matter.

She had left and you remained to do the job, and that job included dealing with Carl’s mechanics.

At least it hadn't mattered, not until some morning in late summer.

The sun watched from high over the green farmhouse. It glared down, peeking over the edge of the porch.

You were fixed on the bird pecking at the already deteriorating grey window pane above the sink, overlooking the rows of colourful fields.

"You're messing, Cherry."

Cherry. Daddy had been calling you that since as far back as you could remember him talking.

You glanced at him across the table, where the spread of bread, eggs and jam had been lain, before you noticed where a long stripe of strawberry jam had run down the front of your black tank top.

"Listen now, you're gonna be fine with the tractor today?"

His voice was stern - probably too stern for such an hour of the morning, but you hardly noticed - swiping at the jam with your finger and nodding.

"No problems, alright?"

Daddy usually worked the tractor, but he was going to some meeting two towns over. He hadn't mentioned what about, but you were sure it had to do with the crippling financial state of the farm.

You nodded.

It's how you found yourself alone out in the heat of the midday sun.

The tractor rumbled beneath you, joggling over every rock and mole hill.

Every couple meters, you'd stop: climb off and pick at the peaches before tossing them into the crate. When enough crates were full, you'd load them onto the truck and move again.

You'd been at it, burning over your arms and shoulders, for what couldn’t have been more than a few hours when the tractor gave a sickening jolt.

Gripping the wheel and watching in horror over the edge of your sunglasses, your eyes followed the thick cloud of grey smoke where it began seeping out at the edges of the hood and disappearing up into the sky.

"No, no, no ..." you drew up the handbrake and leapt out the side onto the soil. The blue metal scalded the tips of your fingers where you threw the bonnet open before swallowing down mouthfuls of hot smoke.

It took five minutes of coughing against the side of the vehicle, another five kicking at the left wheel and at least another ten swearing at the sky before you dug your phone out from between the seats and dialled the number to Carl's auto shop.

It rung three times before his gruff voice carried across the line, "Abernathy Auto Repairs speakin', hello?"

"Good morning Mr Abernathy," your fingers pressed into the sides of your temple, working fruitlessly against the headache forming there. "I'm calling from the farm down Jasmine road—"

"Oh hey there, darlin'. What can I do you for?"

A squirrel rustled somewhere down the row of bushes. "Well, I'm out in the field now and the tractor has ... uh, given up on me. The ‘63. Need one of your men to come give it a start, or a look-over or—"

"Not a problem, not a problem at all. Are you far out? Whereabouts are you?"

You cupped a hand to shield up over your eyes, glancing back from whence you'd came. The house was but a speck of green in the distance.

"About two or three miles north west of the house?"

You could practically hear him nodding, a steady gulp audible against the line.

"Don't you worry about a thing, little darlin', I'll have one of my boys out there within the hour. Just hang tight."

"Alright, thank you kindly sir—"

But the line was already dead.

You glared at the phone.

Huffing loudly, you pulled yourself back up onto the truck - allowing the soft shade to gently graze over your face as you sunk back into the seat.

The warm wind rippled over the tops of the rows of greenery and you watched quietly, the irritation simmering to a low boil in your chest.

There was a quiet tranquility in being so far out from the house, shielded from the scorch.

Your boot tapped rhythmically against the console. Warm breeze brushed over your face again and you sighed, tilting your hat lower over your forehead. The lull of the quiet field allowed your lashes to fan closed over your cheeks. Before you’d taken note of the bird coming to perch on the roof, you were already asleep.

It was the loud rumble of an engine and the throbbing pain in your neck that brought you back to the world of the conscious.

You woke with a jump. Heart thumping against your ribcage in instant confusion. Your hat flew off your head and over the edge of your seat from where it had been blocking the light over your eyes.

Bringing a hand to your neck you whined loudly, the angle you’d been perched at doing nothing for the long term preservation of your muscles there.

You turned anyways, noticing the white pick-up quickly nearing from the direction of the house.

Frowning, you glanced down at time against the console. Three fifty-eight.

"Shit!"

You stuck your head out from under the shade of the tractor top to notice how low the sun has sunk in the sky. It was almost reaching the head of the hill in the distance.

The mechanic shouldn't have taken longer than an hour to find you, and subsequently, wake you. You quickly diffused yourself of blame.

Daddy was going to kill you.

Clambering off the side of the tractor, your hands found your hips before the car pulled to a wailing halt barely a few centimetres off from your knees.

Dust swept up around the truck, obscuring the view of the man that stepped out of it.

"Woah. Almost hit you there, doll."

Warm wind cleared the air and the figure of a young man stood in your field.

The words sitting on your tongue begging to be spat out were sucked straight back down your throat.

For a moment you forgot what you had planned to say at all.

The man's eyebrow cocked at you under strands of dark, curly hair falling carelessly from the skew bun atop his head.

Behind you, a crow cried in the distance. Your senses quickly returned to you.

Your fists tightened at your sides. "Where on god's green earth have you been?"

He looked taken aback.

"Well, I had some trouble finding the house," he smiled sheepishly, motioning to the farmhouse over his shoulder, "and then I had to phone Carl cause he didn't really tell me where—"

"So you're new then? Carl sent a greenie to come fix my tractor?"

Anyone who'd spent more than three days in town knew the farm down Jasmine road. Knew your farm.

A heavily ringed hand came up to his jaw, rubbing there and eyeing you in a way that made the hair on your arms stands straight up.

It was painfully unfair how handsome he was.

"New to town. Not new to fixing tractors." His voice was smooth, the curl of a grin peaking at you from the edge of his mouth.

Sucking in a deep breath - a feeble attempt at composure - you nodded once.

"Well, I've got a tractor and it's broken. And you're two hours late, so if you don't mind, I've got a job to do."

You turned violently on your heel, sure if you stood under his gaze any longer that you'd melt right against the soil.

The sound of the peaches tumbling out the crate onto the tractor split the air between you and him, and soon you were marching away from his figure - crate in hand - in pursuit of fruit further down the lane.

"I'm Eddie!"

You waved vaguely over your shoulder, electing not to bless him with an answer.

Carl was going to hear an earful from your father, you were sure of it. You plucked angrily at the fruits off the bush, tossing them a little too violently in with the rest.

It was quiet from the distance behind you, but you refused to turn to look.

Sure, you shouldn't be so surprised that one of Carl's idiots was nearly two hours late and got lost in a town that really only has two roads, but god, he'd never sent one with such round, wet brown eyes before.

The walk was long, each stop causing the crate to become heavier, and you worked hard to put the image of the mechanic’s black shirt - that he'd obviously cut the sleeves off himself - and how it clung to his chest with sweat out of your mind.

You didn't stop until a voice called from behind. At first it was soft, but it grew louder within a minute: as was the sound of footfalls.

"Hey, miss!"

He was jogging towards you, pieces of hair falling recklessly out from the grips of his hair tie to frame his red face.

Eddie only stopped when barely a few feet separated you.

"All done." He grinned, huffing around his smile. "She just overheated a bit, needed some water and a a couple valves disconnected."

You couldn't tell whether it was harder to hold his gaze or work to keep yours off of his chest.

"Right. Good." You nodded, leaning to lift the crate at your feet. "Then I'll be getting back to it."

It was heavy, almost too heavy if you hadn't lifted boxes like those from sunrise to sunset for the last eighteen or so years.

But the mechanic was clearly unconvinced, he swooped in closer to you. "Let me get that—"

"I'm fine—"

"No really." By now he was way too close, close enough that you could smell the undertones of a shower gel or maybe a cologne.

His voice softened, "Please. To make up for my tardiness."

It was hard to tell whether it was the sun making you so dizzy or his proximity, but either way, it forced you to nod slowly. "Fine."

Eddie took the crate from your hands, you ignored the rush of heat to your stomach as he grunted against the weight.

"Strong thing aren't you, doll?"

You didn't respond, eyes fixed on the giant blue tractor a couple meters from where you stood.

Silence rung, only the footfalls filling the space. You'd almost made it all the way back to the tractor without conversation before the mechanic decided to open his mouth again.

"I don't think I caught your name earlier."

You met his eyes, regretting it almost immediately when your knees threatened to buckle, "That's because I never gave it."

Stepping just close enough to take the crate from his grip, but avoid the drift of his cologne again, your hands brushed closely against his.

They were cool against your sweaty ones.

He was grinning again.

You stepped back, balancing the peaches against your hip before tilting it over the box attached to the end of the tractor allowing the round pink pieces to clatter down into its depths.

"Right. Well, what's your name then doll?"

But you were already clambering back up the side of the tractor into the worn leather seat.

"Wouldn't you like to know, pretty boy."

He was leaning against the side of the truck now, you avoided looking down at him, something told you that you'd find those eyes blinking right up into your soul again if you did.

"So you think I'm pretty?"

Hot red blush chased up the sides of your neck over your ears, you prayed it wasn't discernible under the pink sunburn.

The keys jingled loudly as you slid them into the ignition and turned them violently. The vehicle jerked to life.

"I think your job is done. Good afternoon sir."

Before he could say another word, your foot had sunk down on the accelerator and the tractor was rumbling back down between the bushes again.

In your peripheral vision you watched how the mechanic stumbled back against his pick-up, narrowly avoiding catching his foot under one of the hundred pound tires, and the sound of an echoing chuckle fading as you plodded away.

-

The drive back to the auto-garage was quick. At least quicker than the drive Eddie had taken to find the farm.

His hands tightened around the wheel, twisting over the leather as he pulled to a park in the open spot across the street.

A ring of brown soil stared up at him from where he'd pulled at the handbrake with dusty paws.

"Shit ..." he wiped his hands down the jean over his thighs.

Eddie was used to the oil and the reek of grease, as if that wasn't already enough, but not the itch of farm soil up his nostrils and behind his ears.

He twisted the metal ring around his finger, a small grin playing at his lips.

But the soil wasn't so bad, he reckons he'd swim through a pool of it it to get another chance to watch the hot-tempered farm girl's hips sway when she marched away from him, just as you'd done earlier that afternoon.

The smile didn't leave his face as he climbed out the car, locked it and crossed the street whistling.

Eddie was almost completely used to the whir of the drills echoing off the walls and barely registered the creak of the lever that was raising a car near the back of the shop.

Carl was leaning over the reception desk clinking the bottom of his cider bottle against the wood and puffing on the end of a cigarette.

He waved vaguely down at the open ledger when he noticed Eddie nearing, "See here, extra two hundred dollars on a cheap fucking knock off for that AMC Eagle. You believe that, Munson?"

"Hardly, boss."

Eddie was halfway back to where he'd abandoned the engine on a red convertible before weaving across town to find a farm when the boss' voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Hold it, hold it. Where’ve you been? Didn't I send you outta here three hours ago?" He swivelled on the bar stool against the counter to face him.

The greasy palm that had been picking it's way under car hoods all afternoon reached up to rub against the side of his neck. "I couldn't find that fucking farm, did three circles ‘round the post office before I saw the sign for Jasmine road."

Carl surveyed him with a crooked brow. "They didn't teach you to read maps down in Indiana, boy?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He was about to turn back on his way, when the picture of your face glimmered at him behind his eyes, "Listen boss, the girl there. The daughter you said, what's her name?"

By then, Carl had already turned back down to the accounts. "What's it to ya?"

Silence rung long enough that Carl peeked back up at Eddie over the rim of his glasses.

Eddie shrugged bashfully. "Pretty thing."

Carl threw his head back, laughing loudly - Eddie always thought his laugh sounded like a dog barking.

"I've seen that look." He shook his head, lifting to perch his glasses on his shining bald head. "Too many of you boys come back from that farm starry-eyed. No hope with that princess, she don't like you mech-heads. Nope, not one bit."

"Ah, come on, don't you believe in love at first sight?"

Carl let off another crumbly chuckle, "Bit your head off, didn't she?"

"Sure did." He beamed like the cat that caught the canary, "Love it when a lady talks to me sweet."

A sweaty hand shrugged him off.

"Get back to work, Munson."

But Eddie wavered. "Just a name, boss."

Carl stared at him for a couple moments, clearly bored. It took a long slug of the yellow cider and a hard sigh before he spoke again: "Y/n."

The grin crept back up his cheeks. He tested the name on his tongue, finding it to taste as sweet as he knew it would.

"Appreciate it."

"Get back to that convertible before I fire you."

-

Eddie the mechanic had been firmly put out of your mind following the ruckus out in the field.

Sure, his puppy dog face had returned to you later that night as you lay in bed, but that hardly counted.

You'd forgone mentioning his tardiness to Daddy, electing to take the mild scolding instead.

By the time the end of the week had arrived, you'd just about completely forgotten the floppy haired man that had once graced the farm.

That was until Daddy rose the topic of the auto-body shop again.

He handed you the wet plate, you took it carefully - starting to wipe it down. The water sloshed beneath his hands, scrubbing hard at the soapy pan.

Bullseye watched up at you from where she was curled up on the kitchen chair, purring loudly. Outside the sky was turning deep lilac and the crickets were clicking loudly.

"Tomorrow on your way back from Madeline's, I want you to stop by Carl's."

Madeline's was the local - and only - grocer. You dropped five cases there every Tuesday.

Your hand stilled against the plate, "For?"

"I want you to ask him to spare a man, a good one. Just a couple afternoons a week to do some work."

Your father handed the next plate over carefully.

Confusion tugged at your brow, "Work? What work?"

"You're too curious for your own good, y'know that?"

Bumping your shoulder against his, the pot lid almost slipping from his wet fingers, you laughed. "Don't be difficult, what for?"

The old man sighed.

Some nights, with the evening hue seeping in through the window against his face like it was just then, you were reminded of how old he really was.

"I want to fix up the Cobra."

In the barn around the back of the house, sitting untouched and unmoved for almost twenty years, lived a 1965 AC Cobra.

The steel lid slipped from your hands, clattering against the floor. Your father jumped.

"You're fixing the Cobra!" You grabbed him by the arm, eyes wide in delight. "Is it for me?"

He offered a half-hearted stern look at you, leaning to pick up the lid before straightening out.

"Don't get too excited, she's a real piece of work and we don't know if she can even still be revived."

You tugged at the edge of his shirt, "But ... it's for me, right?"

"Well, your twenty-first is coming up and I thought you're old enough now—"

Just about strangling him, your arms flew up over his neck.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you—!"

He sighed over your shoulder, patting your back with a wet hand. “Alright, alright. Just speak to Carl.”

-

Your drop-off at Madeline's had never gone faster.

Town was busy, as busy as it got on a Tuesday morning, and Abernathy's was no different.

You pulled into a spot down the line of other nearly identical pick-ups to your own in front of the shop.

At the front desk, where you were sure he'd grown roots into the stool behind it, sat Carl Abernathy.

When he looked up from a piece he'd been tinkering with, surprise twisted at his features.

"G'morning darlin'," he set the piece down, puffing around a lit cigarette, "What can I do you for on this fine morning?"

"Good morning sir," you set your hat on the counter, leaning beside it. "My daddy sent me, he's asking if you could spare a man for some work 'round by ours. Couple nights a week."

The little man's eyes screwed at you.

"What, may I ask, will he be expected to do?"

By then you couldn't stifle the grin any longer.

"He's gonna be fixing the Cobra."

The response seemed to delight the man as much as it did yourself, because he laughed loudly and slammed a hand down against the wooden desk.

"Your old man finally found some sense, hey?" He jeered, "I'm mighty pleased to here that, little miss, I really am."

You smiled, "It's my birthday gift. Twenty-first coming up."

"Twenty-one, hey? Well, I've got just the boy. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it."

Carl leaned dangerously back on the stool, you fleetingly wondered how he didn't topple over, before yelling over his shoulder into the depths of the shop.

"Munson! Get your up-to-no-good-ass over here!"

Not to say that you'd completely forgotten him, but you were still more than a little taken aback when the tall framed mechanic from a few days before emerged from under the hood of a pick-up.

"Boss—?" His eyes found you. They lit up like main street over Christmas. "Oh, what a pleasant surprise. Morning, doll."

Grease covered every inch of his arms up to his elbows which held the scrunched up ends to the black long sleeve he was wearing. He was dirtier than last you saw him and it made your stomach swoop dangerously.

"Him?" It slipped out before you had time to catch it.

But Carl didn't comment on your rudeness, instead he slapped a heavy hand over Eddie's shoulder and shook it.

"For sixty's models, this is your boy for the Cobra." The older man beamed at him, like he was telling you his son was a heart surgeon. "Hands like a magician I tell you."

The comment sent a icy chill down the back of your spine, it wasn't helped when the mechanic snapped a wink at you from under his boss' hand.

"R-Right, well, you can come by as soon as you want to start working. A couple hours a day, my daddy will pay you."

With his hair clipped back, you could make a clearer assessment of his face as he nodded to you. He had thick lips and a strong-set nose.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, doll."

The cheekiness in his grin was plucking at a nerve behind your eyebrow. "Think you'll be able to find your way this time?"

"I think I'll be fine." His hands sunk into the depths of his jean pockets, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Left at the butchery and right down the road to my heart."

You scoffed, turning back to Carl. "Thanks Mr Abernathy. I'll let my old man know."

Not even sparing Eddie another glance, you grabbed your hat off the counter and turned on your heel back to the car.

He watched your hair sway under the press of the brown hat and where your wide shoulders glistened in the light beneath the straps of your overalls.

Only when the sound of your engine had disappeared down the street, did he turn back to Carl who was digging the end of a screwdriver into a metal plate.

"You're really an old romantic aren't you, boss."

Carl grumbled, waving a dismissive hand at him.

Eddie shook his head, chuckling delightedly, "Psh, "sixty's models"! As if Jacob couldn't get that Cobra running in a couple days."

Pulling another cider noisily out from the cooler he kept at his feet, Carl guffawed. "I sure hope it's gonna take you more than a few days, lover boy, cause that little miss doesn't seem too fond 'a you I can tell you now."

But Eddie wasn't fazed, "Don't worry, she will be."

-

Sure as the sun rose in the sky, two o' clock rolled around the next afternoon and a noisy white pick-up pulled into park in front of the green farmhouse.

"Cherry! The mech's here!"

You'd grumbled, reluctantly pulling yourself out from where you'd been perched under the cool shade of the back porch repainting worn pots.

Eddie was standing lost in the driveway when you found him.

He was dirty, obviously just from the shop, and you offered something short of a warm welcome, but he seemed unfazed.

"Car's in the barn 'round the back of the house."

"Well good afternoon to you too, miss." You wondered if his smirk had been permanently stitched there.

The toolbox rattled with each step he took after your pacing figure.

As promised, the barn stood nearly as tall as the house in a faded orange hue.

It was dark inside and the door creaked loudly where you'd swung it open.

There she sat in all her glory. The 1965 AC Cobra, in a fitting cherry red.

Eddie whistled lowly over your shoulder behind you.

"A damn shame hiding this beaut up in this dusty barn." He passed you, running his hand over the bonnet that glimmered even in the low light.

We can agree on one thing at least, you thought.

"I've got to go finish up," you motioned over your shoulder, "but, uh, if you need anything I'll be around. Just shout."

You'd already caught the edge of the door, halfway out, when his voice stopped you in your tracks.

"And what is it exactly that I should I shout, doll? Seeing as you still haven't told me your name."

You surmised him, considering only momentarily letting your name spill off your lips.

Hm. Not today.

"Doll works just fine, greenie."

Finishing off the pots was easy, quick. They stood lined up against the bannister drying while you busied yourself in the vegetable patch behind the house: twisting carrots and beetroots out from the dark soil as the sun sunk slowly lower in the sky.

The time had hardly occurred to you when the back door swung open, your father sticking his one foot down the step.

Keys to the pick-up dangled in his hand.

"Cherry, I'm running to Madeline's for some wood glue and another bag of nails. Need anything?"

Swiping an itch on your forehead with the back of your hand, wiping a long black stripe there, you shook your head. "Nothing."

"Right," he nodded and the door was already halfway shut when he tossed it open again. "Oh, and go make that boy a bite to eat. Damn skinny thing's been in that hot barn for hours now."

You sagged your shoulders childishly, voice coming out as a whine. "Must I really?"

"Yes, you must really."

And he was gone.

The fridge was a ghost town, spare for the never-ending supply of fruit and vegetable that lived in the bottom drawer.

Following five minutes of pursing your lips and staring into its depths, you conjured up a lettuce, cucumber tomato and sweet-chilli sandwich. It didn't take long to convince yourself into making another to satiate your own complaining stomach.

You hummed as you worked, pouring cool lemonade into two glasses, packing the food back into the fridge and rinsing off the butter knife.

The tall clock chimed jovially from the hallway when you shuffled out the back, two plates and two glasses in hand.

Your hip nudged open at the barn door and a wave of sweltering heat rushed over your face and between every tendril of hair on your head.

Blinking foggily into the dim sauna that was the barn, you were met with the only slightly browned back of one Eddie Munson.

The man was hunched over, head lost in the depths of the car's stomach and when he straightened out you just about swallowed your tongue.

His long black mane was in a messy ponytail at the base of his neck and his shirt had been abandoned somewhere by the right tire. Sweat was sliding down the side of his face like an open faucet.

"Hey," he smiled when he met your eyes, voice groggy and tired. The sound made the plates wobble under your grip.

"Hi—" you cringed internally, it was the most pleasant greeting you'd offered him so far. Why had it come out so ... awkward?

You motioned down to the plates, as if his eyes hadn't already found them. "I made you a sandwich ... didn't know if you were hungry or—"

The wrench flew from his grip down into the box where he tossed it and Eddie sighed. "Starving."

You handed him the plate, watching how his blackened fingers stained the edge of the plate and the rim of the glass.

He sat carefully down against an empty crate that had been abandoned by the wall, resting the glass by his feet and wiping his hands down the length of his thighs.

"Hot as hell in here." The mechanic mumbled before diving into the sandwich.

Letting his head fall back against his shoulders, he moaned loudly.

"This is fucking delicious." He commented around the mouthful.

You worked hard to swat away the blush reaching at your cheeks by nodding quickly. That sound would probably ring in your head all night.

"I should go—"

"You're not gonna eat here? I don't mind ..." Eddie eyed the sandwich you'd made for yourself in your hand, gaze flickering between the plate and your face.

Your mouth curled around a response, but you were beat to the chase.

"I know you probably mind," he interjected quickly, "but if you w-want company, I mean, you could eat here ..."

Pursing your lips, you surveyed him: long gangly legs spilling in every direction and rings clinking against the glass.

Would it really kill you to sit five minutes with him?

"No need to turn red, greenie." You resigned, kicking over another crate near the grate of the car before leaning down to perch against it. "I don't mind."

It was quiet for the first couple minutes. You focused on your sandwich, feeling his gaze flicker up to you every few minutes.

He'd practically inhaled the first half of the sandwich, but you noticed he was eating the second half slowly.

"So," he swallowed down a gulp of lemonade. "What were you busy with now before I forced you into sitting here with me?"

You picked at a cucumber that had fallen loose from your sandwich, teasing at the outer skin with your teeth.

"Very important work." Your lip curled at the corners, it seemed he noticed. "Fate of the farm depended on it. Guess now it'll have to crash and burn ..."

"Oh yeah? Enlighten me."

His amused look matched yours.

"Pulling carrots out the patch."

He leaned back, eyes widening theatrically. "Sounds exhilarating."

"You have no idea."

You bit into your sandwich again, finding the space suddenly more comfortable.

"Tell me," he pulled off a piece of tomato hanging dangerously off the edge of the sandwich, "How does a car this beautiful find it's way onto a farm in the middle of nowhere?"

Your chest pinched at the question.

"Y'know, just ..." you motioned vaguely towards the roof, "Aliens."

He caught how your gaze flickered from his to a loose bolt near your foot.

Okay, sensitive spot.

The bread was soft between Eddie's fingers, he set it down.

"I thought I saw some funny lights in the sky last night."

It was becoming almost impossible to keep his eyes off you, even for a couple seconds at a time.

You only nodded at his response, refusing to lift your gaze from the floor.

It was making his stomach churn, desperate for a couple more minutes to enjoy the view of your face.

There was a smudge of brown soil against your forehead where your hair fell over it, making his hands twitch in his lap, itching to reach out and swipe at your sun-kissed face.

"Just you and the old man then?" He pressed, reaching for his glass again.

You shrugged, "Couple creatures of the earth too. And the peaches, of course. Always the peaches."

"Peaches are good."

"Peaches are good."

"No boyfriend then?"

It slipped out of him before he had chance to catch it. He'd been dying to know since the second your figure had appeared to him beyond the cloud of dust out in the field.

You took your sweet time, examining him over the rim of your glass. He couldn't tell whether you intended to respond to him at all.

The weight of your gaze was making his head spin.

"'A course I have a boyfriend. Nights on a big farm like this get lonely without someone to warm the other side of the bed. Y'know?"

Eddie's heart sunk into his stomach.

The sandwich had suddenly lost it's appeal. He set the last couple bites by his feet. He nodded slowly.

"... Can imagine."

Blood was rushing past his ears loudly, he could feel it pooling around his cheeks: warming his face with embarrassment.

"He's actually around if you want to meet him?"

"Uh—" Eddie couldn't even formulate a half of a response before your head was thrown back over your right shoulder:

"Cowboy! Baby!"

Cowboy?

There was a thick confused silence where he wasn't entirely sure who or even if anyone would march through the door - he mostly hoped that you'd been lying and nobody was coming at all.

"Baby!" You called again.

Then he heard it.

The fall of footsteps. Someone was running towards the barn and getting quickly closer.

From out of the sunshine, bounding through the door, Eddie made out the shape of the largest dog he'd ever seen.

Four long gangly legs carried him across the small space, tongue swinging over the side of his jaw: he'd appeared so quickly that Eddie didn't have a moment to prepare before the hound leapt excitedly into his lap.

"Hey, boy—!"

He toppled back over the crate and the dog licked hungrily at the sauce around the edges of his mouth, he nudged Eddie's face with his giant snout before spotting the last few bites of the sandwich left abandoned and scooped it up in one long lick.

The distraction of the food offered Eddie the opportunity to sit straight up again, he could feel the hay tangling into the depths of his hair - but the thought dissolved when he picked up the sound you were making.

You were laughing.

The sound was making him drunk, he was sure of it.

It was made worse when he looked at you: head tilted to the side, leaning at the wall and calling the dog breathlessly between giggles.

Eddie could feel the tiny birds flying in circles over his head and his pupils turning to hearts.

"Cowboy, leave the man's food!"

But the sandwich was long gone and the dog had apparently lost interest in sniffing at the empty plate, returning to licking wet stripes up the side of Eddie's face.

"Sorry, he's just a pup." Your face had softened, giggles bubbling down to a sigh. "Hasn't grown into all his manners yet."

"A pup?" Eddie mumbled in disbelief, catching Cowboy behind his ears with a tickle.

Like a magic button, the dog collapsed into a puddle by his feet: panting loudly.

"Kinda looks like your boyfriend likes me more than you."

You leaned against your knees, head shaking. "I'm feeling a little betrayed that he hasn't even looked in my direction yet."

"It's my natural charm, what can I say. Attracts animals of all species."

Scoffing loudly, you shook your head. "Keep the traitor then. We'll see how long he lasts without me feeding him spoonfuls of peanut butter under the table."

Eddie briefly wondered how big of table existed in the kitchen beyond the window of the farmhouse to fit the monstrous animal at his feet.

"Aw, then who would keep you warm on cold farm nights ..." he flashed a toothy smile, "Winter is just around the corner after all."

"Well, in that case," you tilted your head back in false concentration, lifting your hand to count on your fingers: "There's Bullseye, the cat ... Rodeo, the other cat. A couple stray dogs sometimes walk in off the fields, maybe we could adopt a goat?"

Cowboy was watching you with his head in Eddie's lap, Eddie tilted his head innocently to the side. "No one else?"

"Nope ... none that come to mind."

You were smiling at him now, mischief curled into the edges of your mouth.

It was turning his insides to a molten pool of goo.

"Is that a smile I see?" He tried his luck. "Did I make you smile? Is a comet about to hit the state of Tennessee?"

You turned your head quickly, working to wipe the expression off your face, but not entirely succeeding.

Instead you stood up.

"Whatever, greenie." Leaning down to pick up your plate, Eddie was briefly exposed to the view down the front of your dungarees. He blushed again. "Don't you have work to do?"

Crossing the space quickly, you grabbed his plate from beneath one of Cowboy's pot-sized paws before clicking your tongue at the dog.

He clambered back onto his feet like a new-born deer, clearly still not entirely sure what to do with so much leg.

"I'll see you later then, doll?"

But you didn't turn back, disappearing into the light of the sun with Cowboy trotting at your heels.

"Maybe in your dreams tonight, pretty boy."

-

tags: 

@jokersgrf @anicosa-ironlung @sleepy-bunnie @pricelessemotion @sweetgladiatorfesival @eggo-segual​ @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @introvertedmouse @ctrlaltdel3te @multifandom-l0ver @inarinine @sillysteveharharhar @buckystwilight @hey-lucille 

[colourstreakgryffin]

Can you please do a Demon Rengoku x reader and the reader is just going ready for bed and Rengoku breaks in and is totally ready to kill her but sees how beautiful she is and wants to make her his I’ve yet to see this done and your such a beautiful writer 😪🙏

Yaaaay. I have missed Kyojuro so much, and I just did Senjuro so it’s time to complete the Rengoku Brother duo! I’m excited for this, I have done a Demon/Upper Moon Mitsuri so now it’s time for Demon/Upper Moon Kyojuro

Rengoku Kyojuro- Sweet Nightmares

As the dark shadowy night swallowed over the pale sky, your tired throbbing hands swam over the silky fabric of your vibrant nighttime Yukata to the plush beneath, as you gently flicked your hair strands off your shoulder to begin crawling over your soft futon. The room was lit by a trio of candles, a warm luminescent that strongly scented of strawberry and melting wax

Your bedroom window was closed and locked tight but with how thin the glasspane is, anything could see through into your private quarters and even enter. Dropping down to your side to further get comfortable and pulling the thick blanket over your frame, your bright eyes slowly fluttered but you left the candles to burn and glow

On the other end of your lonely homely cottage, a flame-toned pale-skinned demon politely broke the lock of your helpless door to enter. It was time for him to collect his feeding of human, it has been a day since he had indulged in his beloved intake of fresh human flesh and he could care less for what human he must hunt down

On slow, steady footsteps carrying him smoothly through the hallways to try sense the presence of his next dinner. The demon named Kyojuro stopped before the open entrance of the bedroom with raised claws and gritted mighty fangs in preparation to strike down but what he saw made him flinch

His gorgeous flame-like irises scratched over by deep black kanji writing of ‘Upper 7’. A Upper Moon has managed to find you, a mere Kakushi and his claws balls up until those sharp tips dig into his cold skin

He didn’t want to hurt you anymore, he didn’t want to turn you into a mangled body for him to rip apart and devour for his neverending hunger. The way you sat up and flicked your gorgeous hair once again as it laid flatly over your face only seconds after you closed your eyes. He couldn’t see your face from his angle but he was falling in love with your frame, your cute voice sighing out and he knew in that moment, he was in awe

His peaked curiosity must be explored as he disappears long before you can turn around in concern for hearing your wooden pane floor creak, phasing back into existence like he was a ghost behind you and pressing his beefy clawed palms over your mouth so you can’t scream out, your noises of fear muffled. Kyojuro may be a cruel demonic entity but he doesn’t wish to unnecessarily injury or violate you so he was only pressing enough to keep you quiet

His sick, twisted smile flashed at you. His gorgeous blonde spiky hair with actual flaming yellow tips and a pair of dark red horns over the long sides of his forehead. Thankfully, he kept his head far from your hair so his internal roaring fire cannot touch you. The small streams of that candle trio, besides your futon slowly grew to a intense bundle of flames

Upper Moon… 7. Upper Moon… you’ve been caught by a Upper Moon. You were beyond afraid but you didn’t dare to fight against him as he could reduce you to pieces in a single swing. Kyojuro purred delighted at your darkening horrified eyes gazing up at him, lifting you up from your comfy bed with zero issue and eventually dragging you away from the only sense of safety you’ll ever have from now on as Kyojuro was truly stuck on having you

He wanted you, he didn’t want you as his food. No. Kyojuro wanted you as his wife

“Good morning, darling~! We’re gonna have so much fun together, don’t you think so?”

[sweetiecutie]

Pairing: dark! Sirius Black x fem! Reader

Warnings: obsessive behavior, yandere themes, stalking, blackmail(?), toxic behavior, oc as reader’s best friend but it’s really brief

A/n: it’s Friday 13th so here have some dark content. Im really into mood for yandere content, so there will be more💖

You thanked every possible goddess and greater mind existing as you stomped out of your detention, feeling positively angry and exhausted. You were hungry due to skipping today’s dinner, your arms hurt from continuous polishing of old Hogwarts armours, your head was buzzing with heavy thoughts only adding to your sour mood.

You’ve always liked professor Flitwick - him not only being a head of your house, but an excellent teacher and great person in general only made your respect towards him grow bigger with every day. But detentions with him were pure nightmare - meticulous and boring work, caused, in your case, by you being late with handing in your charms homework on time for nth time.

It was already past midnight and the only thing you wanted was to get into your warm cosy bed, hide under your fluffy blanket and black out for the rest of the night, getting well-deserved sleep.

You were making your way hurriedly down the dark Hogwarts halls, that looked strangely hostile and unwelcoming in a silver moonlight pouring in through numerous paned windows. You couldn’t help but constantly look behind, not being able to shrug off a feeling of being closely watched, just to find no one around, as expected in such a late hour.

Just a bit. Just a bit more and you’d be in the safety of Ravenclaw common room, welcomed by dying fire and fluorescent stars glued to the ceiling by generations of ravenclaws.

And just as you let your guard down, you felt a pair of strong hands grabbing you by your shoulders, turning you around swiftly so that your back was pressed tightly against a cold stone wall of a castle, your throat constricting in fright, not allowing a single sound to escape your lips.

And there he was, standing in front of you in all of his beauty - hogwarts playboy and your personal nightmare - Sirius Orion Black. He was grinning his usual, perfectly practiced, smile down at your shrinking form, and even despite recognizing the person cornering you your whole body only tensed impossibly more.

- Lovely to see you here, Y/n, - black-haired purred mere inches apart from your face, his dark eyes, glistening in a dim moonlight, were ogling you like a predator getting ready to pounce on an innocent lamb.

- Don’t act as if you weren’t stalking me all this time, you creep, - you spat out, anger mixed with revulsion and fear was bubbling underneath your skin. Black tutted at your bitter words, one hand coming to caress the side of your face with his knuckles, all wounded and rough from constant fights he was picking up. You seemed to regain a little control over your own body, your hands coming to boy’s broad chest in an attempt to push him off, but to no avail - Sirius didn’t budge, but only came closer, caging your smaller body under his towering height.

- Now, now, my dearest. Words can hurt, you know? - black-haired uttered in feigned offence, jutting his lips out like an upset child, but you knew better than all of that. You struggled against him once more, but fruitless - your muscles were too tired and weak after long hours or physical work, and Sirius was simply way bigger and stronger than you.

- What do you want from me, Black? - you inquired exasperatedly, voice seething with poison.

Sirius’ perfect eyebrows furrowed up a bit, an expression of fake hurt dissolving quickly and you could see that your question really did surprise him. The hand that was previously tenderly stroking your cheek stopped in its tracks. You could see anger brooding in his amethyst eyes, mad at you using his last name despite him asking you multiple times to refer to him with his first name instead.

- What do you mean? Y/n, we haven’t seen each other the whole day, all of our classes were separate, and this bloody detention of yours! Of course I’m here to see you, what else does it look like? - Sirius said all of that with such fierce, that you knew this time he was really offended by your question, as if the logic behind all of his actions was dead obvious.

- And I don’t want to see you. Leave. Me. Alone, - you seethed at him, sharply accentuating your last words with long pauses, looking him straight in the eyes.

You watched as Sirius’ jaw clenching tightly. The hand retrieved from your cheek, balling into a heavy fist; a moment later it hit on a stone wall mere centimeters next to your head with a dull thump, strength of the impact making cold stone of the wall behind you vibrate slightly. You jolted harshly at that, inhaling sharply through your nose; you didn’t dare to blink, too afraid to let your eyes off this, this animal - ferocious and insane, driven by his instincts and emotions only, and you were trapped right inside his claws.

A moment of silence stretched uncomfortably, with Sirius glaring down at your shrinking form and you trying your best not to break under the pressure of his heavy gaze.

- It’s her, isn’t it? That bitch Lena. She’s turning you against me, putting all that bullshit in your head? - Sirius’ chest thrummed with dry humorless chuckle, his eyes colder than ice.

You felt as if ground was swept right from beneath your feet, your chest swelling with sticky horror. No, not her. Not your best friend. Sirius was purely insane, deeply delusional in every aspect of you. He’ll simply kill her. Or injure her so badly, her chances to live would be near to zero. And he had more than enough money, influence and wit to make it seem as if he never had to do anything with such a ‘terrible accident’. You already knew that, after that Hufflepuff boy that obviously fancied you went missing one day, Sirius’ knuckles raw with fresh cuts and bruises.

- N-no, Sirius, wait, - you stammered out, hands instinctively flying up to rest on his shoulders, his muscles tense under your touch. Your mind was racing with a speed of sound as you tried to find a way out of this horrible situation, to keep Lena and yourself safe.

Sirius was watching you with his scrutinizing cold eyes, fury etched on his sharp features. You felt your eyes sting with tears of panic as you stammered out squeaky:

- S-She al-lways approved of y-you, Siri. Always, - you saw his stony expression crack slightly after hearing you use the nickname, your body shuddering intensely, panic was making it hard to breathe. It was a straight up lie - Lena saw right through Sirius’ insanity, warning you to stay as far as possible from him. But that didn’t matter, you’d do anything just to keep your best friend safe.

Sirius’ fist unclenched, coming to cradle your nape; expecting expression etched on his face encouraged you to go further.

- I… I was just playing. R-really, how could you eat that, huh? - you sputter out hastily, stumbling over your words and forcing a chuckle out, it came out way too tense to sound natural. But Sirius seemed to follow through everything you’ve said as soon as next words left your trembling lips:

- Of course I’m glad to see you.

His lips stretched in a wide grin, so brilliant it seemed to lighten up a thick darkness of a hall. His thumb came to rub small circles into the skin of your jaw; his other hand that was previously propping Sirius’ heavy body next to a wall came to rest on you waist, drawing you in until your bodies were pressed tightly against each other, you could feel heat radiating off of black-haired even despite numerous layers of clothing.

- You little minx, really got me here, - he murmured softly, eyes fixated upon your face. It took everything in you to force a smile onto your lips, your hands were trembling ferociously, still laying upon boy’s broad shoulders.

Sirius ducked down, rubbing your noses affectionately before sealing his lips with yours, his eyes fluttering closed, lost in euphoria, meanwhile you couldn’t bring yourself to even blink, watching his every move with great caution. His hand resting on the back of your head felt extremely heavy and a strong scent of his undoubtedly expensive cologne made you nauseous - it felt like you could pass out at any moment.

Sirius broke away shortly after, leaving a last small peck on your numb lips. It was the first time he went as far as actually kissing you, and you were terrified to even think of how long it’d take until he tries anything more heated than pressing his lips against yours for a few long seconds. Your stomach twisted painfully at the thought.

- Siri, I’m really tired. Detention was pure hell and I need some sleep, - you uttered quietly, his shoulders slumping slightly in disappointment underneath your palms, but he nodded his head in agreement.

- Yeah, right. Let’s get you to bed then, princess? - Black said with a cheeky grin stretching his soft (now you knew) lips. His hands left your body just to grab one of your hands into his, intertwining your fingers together, leading his way up to the Ravenclaw tower.

Making it up the spiral staircase and uttering a right answer to the metal raven upon heavy door, you looked up at Sirius just to find him already beaming down at you. His free hand came to cup your jaw, bringing your face closer to his - hot lips pressed to your forehead, leaving a chaste kiss on your unnaturally cold skin. He broke away rather reluctantly, winking down at you:

- Sleep tight, sweetness. See you tomorrow, - and with that you departed, slamming a heavy door shut behind you.

Standing in a huge circular room crammed with countless books and parchments, with welcoming fire cracking joyfully and fluorescent stars twinkling down at you - you felt utterly and wholly petrified. Cold sweat was seeping through the soft cotton of your uniform shirt on your back, heart pummeling at the huge surge of adrenaline running through your veins, knees trembling ferociously, struggling to keep your body up.

And it was only now that the realization fully sank in, realization of how deep you got yourself into trouble in your desperate attempt to ensure your best friend’s safety, now seeing absolutely no way out of Sirius’ tight clutches.

Part 2🖤

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated - feedback inspires writers on creating even more content for you💖

[ceilidho]

prompt: horror au where soap is dishonourably discharged/falls on hard times and he's forced to move into this really creepy apartment building because it's the only thing he can afford. and ghost is his weird neighbour and soap's not completely convinced that he's not a serial killer. (ghostsoap)

-

Misery takes him to a place covered in litter and dust, and old dirt. 

Maybe he thought it couldn’t happen to him. Famous last words. Anything can happen to anyone; lightning has to strike somewhere. Johnny makes the mistake of driving once under the influence and they throw the book at him when he’s caught—bad conduct discharge stamped on his record for the rest of his life. Through the investigation and trial and the subsequent stamp on his record, Johnny goes through the motions numb, head buzzing like there’s a fog that he just can’t get out. 

It takes a while for Johnny to admit that he might not have wanted this outcome in the slightest, but actions have consequences. In the first few weeks, the shame warps him into something unrecognisable. He sleeps on his sister’s couch until she all but begs him to get his own place. The month passes like he’s in a fugue, the bags under his eyes dark and his hair matted down, unwashed. 

The apartment building in North Barlanark is the best he can afford on his meagre savings—not much squirrelled away over the years, always the thought that the well would never dry up. Now it’s dry; now it’s standing on the embankment staring down into nothing. The bad conduct discharge stamped on his record also means that he isn’t entitled to VA benefits and it’ll show up on every background check going forward when he finally finds the energy to get off his ass and apply for jobs.

From the outside of the building, there are cracks in the stone walls, window panes red with rust. Black scorch marks climb up the walls like someone tried and failed to burn this place down. Stone chipping away in other places; there are air conditioners hanging from several windows that look dangerous close to falling out.

When he moves in, there’s no one to help carry his bags up the long flight of stairs up to the seventh floor. Johnny hadn’t bothered to ask either of his sisters, not too keen on being in this neighbourhood himself, never mind inviting them over. 

The elevator’s broken, of course. Each step creaks under his weight as he lugs the garbage bags filled to the brim with his only earthly belongings up the stairs. An uneven, loosened tile nearly makes him brain himself on the stairs. It would be a depressing, but fitting end. 

The corridors are lit by an ambient yellow light, the walls at the far ends a dusky blue when they ebb into darkness. Johnny’s stared down gun barrels raised to his face plenty of times before and still he stands at the other end of the hall vaguely unsettled. Gut clenching over nothing. 

This whole endeavour feels inauspicious. Living, that is. He toys with the thought like a delicate glass bauble, staring at it indifferently as it rests in the palm of his hand. He might still break it. 

Some nights his heart feels so heavy that he thinks it’ll sink right out of his chest, through the mattress and onto the floor below. Melt through the floorboards until it trickles down into the bowels of the building, down into the entrails where the furnace roars and there’s a damp cold that pervades everything it touches. He hasn’t cried since he was a boy, but his eyes hurt when he blinks. 

Johnny doesn’t see a single other person in the building the day he moves in, nor any of the following days during his first week in the building. He doesn’t have it in him to grieve the loss of his former life anymore—he did that over the month that he lived on his sister’s couch and barely showered or shaved. There’s a factory within biking distance where he gets a job as a die cast operator and spends his days making carburetors and engine blocks. It’s not glamorous work, but it’s better than what he expected. 

There are signs of life in the building though. The sound of a door creaking open when he’s sitting on the couch in his flat, only to peek out through the peephole to an empty hallway. Passing a door on his way home from work and pausing at the sound of someone groaning from within. Trash bags out in the hall when there weren’t any earlier. 

It makes his skin crawl. The suggestion of occupancy that never materialises. People that live like rats in the walls. 

He hurries home with his head down in the evenings, walking straight past the other flats. No one needs to know his business just like he doesn’t need to know anyone else’s business. If he hears the rattling of dishes or feet shuffling along the floorboards, what’s it to him?

There’s only so many times he can tell himself that though. 

The coming of winter deepens the night, dragging it further into the day. The sky has long gone black by the time he leaves the factory after his shift, pulling his hood up to seem marginally less appealing to anyone wandering around at night. Hardly anyone wanders with good intentions. At least, that’s what Johnny’s taught himself. He’s still got all of the muscle mass from his years of service, but he’s not interested in fucking around and finding out, so he speedwalks to his bike and pedals home as fast as possible.

There’s something in the air. He sees only a single light on from outside when he reaches the front doors and it quickly shuts off when he dismounts the bike. A curtain rustles like someone was just there. It turns his blood to absolute ice; something in him is hissing at him to stay out, but there’s little else he can do. He rolls his bike in and up the seven flights of stairs. 

He rolls the bike down the hall as always, only the squeaky sounds of the wheels echoing down the length of the corridor. The exhaustion eats away at his bones; he’s so tired that it’ll be a dream even to collapse on the bed with the weird stain on it that he inherited from the previous tenant. 

Something makes him pause in the hall. 

There’s a scratching sound coming from the door to his left. The faintest rasp of a fingernail against steel. Johnny goes so quiet that even the sound of his blood disappears. Just staring at the door. 

It comes again like someone’s standing there on the other side of the door. Scratching softly with a single fingernail. When he glances down, there’s a slight shadow just under the doorframe, no wider than a person. 

His vision tunnels in on the shadow beneath the floor. 

“What are you doing crouched there?” a deep voice growls from behind him. 

“Steamin’ Jesus!”

When he whips around, his heart about jumps into his throat. A man in a skull balaclava stands not two feet from him, a wall of muscle and bone. The eyes that stare down at Johnny seem almost hostile in their hollowness at first, the darkest blue he’s ever seen. 

Johnny freezes for a second, old instincts taking over. Something feels deeply wrong. He’s never seen the man before and he takes up space like no one he’s ever met. Even in a black hoodie and jeans, Johnny can see the muscle definition just barely visible underneath. The mask makes it worse somehow, obscuring the only part of him that might’ve been comforting. 

“Sorry, mate,” he says with a grin, sheepish. Wary. “Lost my train of thought.”

The man stares at him. “Go back to your place.”

Johnny furrows his brows. “Excuse me?”

“Back home, puppy.”

There’s a second where Johnny thinks he might do something rash. The anger that rises up from his core is swift and sudden, furious at being ordered around like a dog. He pauses though. There’s something wrong here. The man angles himself towards Johnny like he expects a fight, and it’s there in his eyes for a split second, so fast that Johnny almost misses it. Anticipation.

He’s lived long enough to know his limits. He gives a brittle smile instead and nods, backing up a few paces before turning around, wheeling his bike home. He doesn’t hear anything from behind him, but the next time he looks around before stepping into his flat, the man is gone.

[meownotgood]

imagine desperate, super soft sex with aki after he almost died at a mission and you both need to just feel each other and be close :(( and maybe both of you cry :( 💕

high to death. / hayakawa aki x gn!reader, angst, tender sex, established relationship

I'm ill anon...... I'm so sick............

this work contains explicit content intended for 18+ individuals. please read the tags and do not interact if you are a minor.

Aki's hand seeks out yours in the dim light, and when he finds it, he holds it tightly. Your fingers intertwine; his fit perfectly in the crooks of your own, as if they were made to be there, as if this is what his hands have been waiting to grasp for far, far too long. Not the rough hilt of his sword, not the chunk of gun devil matter held deft between two of his fingers, just your hand in his. 

And it scares him half to death — His fingers tremble, his whole body softly tremors, his hot breath on your ear comes out shaky and heavy with sorrow. It terrifies him to imagine an outcome where things happened differently, where he never returned home, where he never got to have you, ever again. 

Aki is used to this, or so he thought. Aki has become accustomed to the grueling missions, to just barely making it home within an inch of his life. It's part of the territory that comes with being a devil hunter, and with this path he's chosen to walk down. He comes home weak and weary, covered in bruises, deep wounds on his flesh bound to leave him with more scars than before. Vivid red blood paints the crisp white fabric of his dress shirt, soaked deep into his fingertips — And at this point, he doesn't know if the blood is his own, or if it belonged to the devils. 

This time is different, though. This time isn't like the others because this time, he has you, and it's the first time the reality he's been living in truly begins to take shape. 

You, who he loves so dearly, who is the reason why he's so scared to die. The reason why each of these days have begun to feel a little less lonely, and a little more meaningful. The incentive behind why he's been smoking less, and why he's trying to quit — If it means a few more minutes with you, just a bit longer in this oh-so short life that he gets to spend right here beside you, he'd do anything, and he'd do it without a single question. 

Because he very well could die; he could lose you forever, just as easily as he found you, and he almost did. The thought alone is enough to make him want to — No, need to feel you, to make love to you like this time will be the last. 

When he slowly eases inside, you hear his breath hitch, his arms around you holding your body closer to himself. You embrace him tightly, safely, like he'll disappear if you let go. Warm, like the cozy rays of dying sunlight that drift through the window pane, to melt the fresh snow of his dying heart. In this moment, everything begins to feel alright again.

Gradually, Aki feels his heartbeat start to calm. His palms are cold when they glide up and down your soft, bare skin, sending tingles twisting up your spine. You feel his touch trail over each curve and dip of your body, feeling the outline of your spine, the shape of your hips, as if he wishes to memorize the very construction of your form. He never wants to forget it. 

One hand comes to settle on your waist, and once he's all the way in, his hips flush with yours, soft skin against soft skin, the other rests carefully on your jaw. Aki drags you in, eyes fluttering shut as his lips press to your own; he holds it, draws out the time like a thin, stretched line, holding onto a secret hope that this kiss will last forever. That this moment and the pure devotion he feels, that all of it will never, ever end. 

Your lips on his ignite a fire in his chest, an ache in his heart — Perhaps his last mission didn't kill him on the outside, but he thinks it might have on the inside, and kissing you, your tongue tasting the blood that lingers in his mouth, is exactly what he needs to feel alive again. 

His head tilts so he can kiss you deeper. You hold the back of his neck, pulling him in. Your body curls into his touch instinctively. When he pulls away from your lips, his gaze settles on yours: eyelids heavy, pupils blown, eyes blue like the depths of the ocean, deep enough to drown inside.

There's a certain sort of look in your own, something between adoration and hurt. A look that makes him think that nothing in this world could ever matter more than you in his bed, your bodies tangled under the velvet sheets, foamy white waves washing over. Your soul and his, connected. 

Aki makes love to you deeply, desperately, shallow rolls of his hips accompanied by his quickened breaths and quiet moans of your name into your ear. It feels so amazing, so perfect, so right. You make him feel high, his mind a dizzy haze, everything exactly where it belongs.

Over the gentle echo of skin hitting skin, you hear his smooth voice, the soft utterances of his thoughts, of everything he's needed to tell you so badly — I missed you, I missed you so much. I thought…. I thought I wasn't coming home. Oh, God, I thought I'd never see you again, I'm so sorry. 

He nestles his head into the nape of your neck, peppering your skin with delicate kisses. With little bites and impressions of his teeth, marks that prove he was there, tangible proof of his existence, of how he was here with you. Your fingers thread through his soft, long hair, tenderly holding the back of his head, lips pressing idly to his shoulder, fingertips tracing the outlines of his scars — Your touch mends his skin anew. 

And when he hears your voice, soft and shaky and beautiful, sounding on the edge of falling apart, his heart breaks. The words resonate so deep within his chest, inside his skull — I don't want to lose you, I can't lose you. Please, don't die, Aki. His arms hold you tighter, he presses himself in even deeper, and the pace of his hips grows clumsy as tears well in his eyes, wet drops falling to bloom over your skin. 

Don't die. God, for you, he'll try, even though he knows it's useless, because destiny has already fated him to. He'll fight against it, as best he can, until the day he takes his final breath. For you.

He can't stop himself from crying then, from speaking through his sobs and quiet sniffles, promises he's not sure he can keep: I'm not gonna leave you, I'm not, I won't. Please, I don't want you to cry. I love you, oh, sweetheart. I love you more than anything. 

His voice sounds weak, breaking at the edges, and when he looks at you, grasping your chin between his fingers, his eyes are puffy, his cheeks are tear-stained. His thumb swipes over your quivering lips, a warm knot coils in the pit of his stomach. When he reaches his peak, you're falling from the edge alongside him not too long after. Aki holds you as close to himself as he can manage, riding his high with you, forgetting about the world as you take him to heaven, just as he wished.

As he catches his breath, he rests his forehead against yours, soft bangs brushing over your skin. His hand grips yours tightly, fingertips caressing your knuckles. He brings your hand to his chest, places it over his heart, lets you feel where it's beating. Thrumming to a gentle rhythm, soft and warm and real. 

I'm right here, my love, I'm right here. I'll crawl home, even from the depths of hell, just to return to your arms. I promise.

[natashaslesbian]

Anchor (pt. 2)

Summary: you’re starting to settle in at the avengers compound when an attack on the building has you spilling more about your past

Word Count: 1.3k

Parings: (Natasha x Y/n) (Bucky x Y/n)

Warnings: fighting, slightly disordered eating

————

You followed a single raindrop from the top of the window all the way to the bottom, it fell so slowly. “Come in” you said after a light knock on the door “only me” Natasha said as she peeked round the frame “how are you finding your new room?” She asked, you decided to stay facing the window pane “it’s a big change I know” Natasha empathised, having a conversation with your silence. “It’s the bed isn’t it?” She said “what?” You whispered as you turned your attention to the red head. “It’s too soft right? You should try taking the mattress off it’s-“ “how could you possibly know what this feels like?” You cut her off. Natasha didn’t take offence to your remark, after all how could you know about her past “sleeping on the mattress on the floor really helped me, when I first came here, from the red room” your eyes grew wide “you were in the red room?” You asked, the bile rising in your throat as you said the words “yes” Natasha said with a tone of surprise, opening her mouth to ask another question before you cut her off “I’m tired” you said as you turned to face the window once more “I’ll let you get some rest” Natasha said as she closed the door behind her. You pushed open the bedroom window and reached your hand out to feel the rain. It was cold outside but you didn’t mind, it was nice to feel the air and the water as it fell off your fingertips. You thought about the look in Natasha’s eyes, the suspicion she held. You thought about telling her, perhaps she was someone you could trust? You wondered why you had never met her. A loud roll of thunder broke your gaze, the edge of your hand getting caught on the open window as you jumped. You hated storms, so you quickly closed your window and climbed into your bed, pulling the sheets up over your head, blocking the world out.

Downstairs, Bucky was talking to some of his teammates about the possibility of a Hydra attack. He didn’t like to cause panic amongst the avengers but they needed to know that you were a target and you were living under their roof now. “We’ll protect her Buck” Steve said, placing a supportive hand on Becky’s shoulder “so we’re just gonna risk our lives for this girl because Bucky said so? She’s a complete stranger to us, she could be dangerous” Sam spoke up from the corner “you used to say the same about me Wilson” Natasha remarked “she’s not dangerous, she’s afraid. We can’t just send her out into the world to defend herself” she continued “you don’t know her like I do Sam, we have to keep her safe, please?” Bucky pleaded with Tony “we’ll set up extra security measures, make sure she stays in the compound and I’ll have Jarvis alert you or I if she’s in any distress” Stark said “Natasha too” Buck answered “I think she trusts you” he said to the redhead “ok Natasha too” Tony said as he settled on the couch “is there anything else we can do?” Asked Clint, Bucky thought for a moment but shook his head. The conversation began to fade and one by one people left for bed. Soon it was just Natasha and Bucky left, sitting in comfortable silence. Nat was the first to speak up “you think she trusts me?” She said “I do” Bucky answered “she might not show it and maybe she doesn’t even know it yet, but I see that look in her eyes. She knows you won’t hurt her” he finished. Bucky excused himself for bed and made it half way to the door until Natasha asked “has she said anything to you, about that mission, and what happened to her?” Buck stopped in his tracks, he had asked you about it but could tell you weren’t ready to talk about it yet “No” he sighed “ok, goodnight” Nat said, avoiding eye contact “night” Bucky said back as he left the room.

The next few days were slow. So slow that you couldn’t even remember how much time had passed. You stayed in your new room, not wanting to be around all these strangers. But there was Bucky, he would bring you fresh meals and sit with you even when you told him to leave. Bucky was the only person you allowed to check your wounds and on occasion, Natasha would stop by to say hello. No one had told you that the rest of the team were hard at work, watching Hydras every move taking turns to monitor the security cameras. There hadn’t been a whisper of movement since you arrived four days ago and Bucky was starting to think that maybe Hydra weren’t after you. Tonight, you were at the compound with Natasha and Bucky, the rest of the team had been sent on an overnight mission under Fury’s order. The widow and the soldier had convinced you to join them for dinner in the dining room, and as there was no one else around you eventually agreed. You pushed most of the food around your plate but did manage a few mouthfuls, much to Nat and Bucky’s appreciation. After dinner the three of you settled on the couch for some movies. You stayed silent while the pair conversed about the things they did and didn’t like about the film.

You were just starting to drift on when suddenly alarms blared throughout the compound. The sound rang through your ears as you jumped to your feet. Bucky begged you to go to your room and hide, but before he could finish his sentence you were following Natasha down the hall. “Y/n, you need to keep hidden!” Nat said “I can help. Let me help” you begged. The widow passed you a pistol and a dagger for your waist belt. The two of you sprinted back to the living room where Bucky was already fighting three masked guards. You caught a glimpse of their selves and the hydra logo sent chills down your spine. Gunfire rained down as fists were flown towards faces and stomachs were kicked. Natasha took a hard hit to the face and was knocked to the floor, Bucky was still preoccupied with taking down the last guard attacking him. It took you only seconds before you decided to dive for the agent who had hurt Nat, taking down the guard fighting you as you went. You through all of your weight at him as you swung around his shoulders to wrap your legs around his neck. Your body was so sore, you still weren’t fully recovered from your injuries. You fell backwards, aiming for the floor, and the guard caught between your grip came crashing down with you.

Bucky came sprinting back over when he had finally overpowered his attackers. “Nat, y/n!” He yelled “are you okay?” He said as he came to help you both to your feet. “Is that all of them?” He finished. “I think so, just the five of them” you said as you looked around you at the bodies scattered on the floor. “They must’ve thought you were alone” Bucky said as Natasha finally found her feet. She was slightly out of breath and was wiping the running blood from her nose. “How did you do that?” She said “do what?” You shyly asked “the way you took that guard out. Where did you learn to do that?” Natasha said, fearing that her assumptions were right and she already knew the answer. You mumbled for a moment, fidgeting with your fingers. “Y/n?” Bucky said with a voice laced with concern “did you learn it with Hydra?” He asked, not really understanding the silent conversation between you and Natasha. “No” you whispered. “Then where did you learn it?” He asked again. “In the red room”

————

Taglist<3

@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo o / @tobiaslut / @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904

[messrmoonyy]

You are nearly single handedly carrying the Tess x reader portion of this website and I thank you so dearly for that and I love all of your stuff

Listen I know it’s the apocalypse and all that they are dealing with, but would you be comfortable doing a Tess fic where she has a strap? Tess and Joel are smugglers so it’s POSSIBLE she could get one…. Right? Right. I’m just going to live in my bubble where it’s possible….

The calm within the storm

Tess Servopoulos x fem!reader

A/n- oh my dear sweet anon. Firstly, thank you for reading and requesting! Secondly. Lord. Have a been waiting for someone to fucking request this I have been waITING. I didn’t intend to post this today but. I just- no words. Feral. I was fucking feral writing this. I need this woman. Rn. Immediately. I was going to post at the end of the week and it wasn’t gonna be this but I just have to get this out there so. Here it is. Also. I think this could technically be a slightly younger Tess cause I kinda made her a lil bit soft

Warnings- 18+ || Tess. It’s basically just pure filth tbfh. Plot? What’s a plot. Smut: use of toys, fake p in v ( reader receiving ) , fingering ( reader receiving), tess being the god of praise as she always is, use of the term ‘ good girl ‘, light Dom/sub roles, Tess refers to the toy as hers if you get my drift 👀💀, reader low-key in a subspace, crying, overstimulation if you squint,

Word count- 5.2k of filth

Masterlist - Tess requests open

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated

Rain was hammering against the window panes, so hard you almost worried that the glass might break. The entire QZ was practically on lockdown, a severe storm warning meaning that everyone was being told to stay indoors. The only people really out on the streets below were FEDRA officers, if you focused hard enough you could occasionally see a black speck moving on the street below through the blur of the rain.

You and Tess had debated attempting to head out anyway, but with no one around to blend in with it made things harder. And the officers were clearly pissed about standing out in a storm all day, they’d be far too trigger happy.

So you were stuck inside. Which wasn’t particularly a bad thing, you loved being alone with Tess. But sitting with so much stuff in your stash and unable to go and sell it was enough to put you both a little on edge.

Joel didn’t seem fazed at all. In fact he’d told you both to leave him alone and you knew he’d just be spending the entire time blackout drunk. Or so off his head on pills that he probably didn’t even know what day it was. Which was starting to look like a decent idea for yourself too.

But Tess seemingly had other ideas.

“ I’m so fucking bored “ you sighed, following a drop of rain as it ran down the glass. Tess appeared behind you, arms looping around your waist and chin propped on your shoulder. You leant back into her embrace with another sigh “ I might go piss off Joel just for something to do “ Tess scoffed and pressed her face against your neck, nuzzling her nose at the underside of your jaw.

“ I have a better idea to keep you entertained “ she whispered, pressing a soft trail of kisses across your neck.

“ you’ve got a one track mind “ you felt her smile against your skin and tighten her grip around you, tilting your head a little so she had more access to your neck.

“ you say it like it’s a bad thing “

“ Hm never said that “ her hand slipped under your shirt making you shiver as her cold fingers trailed their way upwards “ cold hands “ she smiled again and stopped her assault on your neck for a moment.

“ I have a surprise for you “ you turned in her embrace, folding your arms across your chest.

“ I hate surprises “ you stated. Because you did. And she knew you did.

“ you’ll like this one. Go sit down. On the bed “ your brow furrowed in mild annoyance but then you sighed, deciding to indulge her. Last time she’d told you she had a surprise for you it had been a crappy T-shirt, one of the cheesy joke kind. A frog printed on the front with the words ‘ okey- Croakey! ‘ above its head. You’d lost against her in a game of cards and she’d forced you to wear it for the whole day.

She’d found the entire thing hilarious. As did Joel. You? Not so much.

You sat down and watched as she rummaged around in her backpack by the door.

“ what are you doing? This better not be another fuckin frog shirt “ she pulled something in a little black bag from her backpack with a proud look on her face, turning to you with a slightly mischievous look in her eye “ what? “

“ unfortunately it’s not a frog shirt- which I have noticed has mysteriously vanished by the way “ your brow furrowed again, confusion painting across your features as she rose to her feet and made her way over to you. She sat down next to you and you waited with a raised brow as she pulled at the drawstring “ now don’t freak out. I know what you’re like “

You thought of a few variations of what could possibly be in the bag. But the actual answer wasn’t even close. Not even remotely.

You couldn’t help the laugh that left you. Some mixture of shock, confusion and intrigue mingling into a slightly manic sound.

Only Tess would smuggle a fucking strap on back into the QZ.

“ what the fuck Tess “ she was smiling like the cat that got the cream. Thoroughly proud of herself for finding it and managing to get it back home without you finding it.

“ I want to fuck you with it “ there she was, always one for being direct.

“ where did you even fuckin find this?“

“ last time we were in Lincoln. Turns out that house we stay in? Two Women owned it. Must be something in the fucking water in that town “ you laughed again at that, still completely baffled by the entire situation “ whole drawer full of shit. This looked the most interesting though, you ever use one?”

“ I’m gonna let you answer that for yourself “ your eyes glanced up at her face for a moment “ have you? “

“ once or twice “ you looked at the mildly offensive looking thing in her hands, curiously eyeing the size of it and mentally trying to guess if it would hurt. The most you’d ever taken was Tess’ fingers and two of them was usually a sufficient amount, 3 if she was feeling particularly cruel. It was a pastel purple which was quite the relief really. It didn’t look real. Less scary than it probably was.

“ Tess I don’t know if I can fit- Jesus Christ “

“ I’ll get you ready… if you don’t want to we don’t have to. It was just an idea “ you didn’t want to disappoint her and you knew she’d never even dare to pressure you into something. You tried to think about it, knowing she wouldn’t let it hurt you. She’d never hurt you. And if you thought about it, this was truly as close as you could ever possibly get to her, your bodies completely connected.

It made your cheeks burn again.

“ it won’t hurt? “ she shook her head, scooching a little closer to you and tucking her fingers under your chin, turning you to look at her.

“ okay well. Maybe a tiny bit just at first. But then it’ll be good. I’ll get you ready. I promise. You think I’d ever do anything to hurt you? “

“ no “ you said immediately, there was nothing in this world you were more certain of. She’d never hurt you.

“ then… what do you say? Wanna try? “ the idea was growing on you you couldn’t lie. You weren’t exactly a stranger to letting Tess have complete and utter control of you, and this seemed like the ultimate surrender to her power. To have her in you. Filling you. Reaching parts of you she’d never been able to before.

You shuffled slightly trying to ignore the uncomfortable damp feeling between your legs.

“ so you’re gonna- you wear it? “

“ mhm “

“ will you feel good too? “ you know she wasn’t really one for being touched. Always the one doing the touching rather than letting you touch her. She’d always been the same. But you were curious.

“ you know I get off on making you feel good “ her voice had taken on that low and sultry tone that went straight to your core and you let out a shaky breath “ but I’ll feel a little something. Some friction you know? But don’t worry about me. This is for you “ she brushed your hair away from your shoulder, her lips returning to their earlier assault.

Your clit felt like it had its own fucking heartbeat, throbbing at the thought of your girlfriend nailing you into the mattress like that.

“ fuck okay “ it came out a little more breathy than you had intended, and she seemed throughly pleased with herself. She smiled again, teeth nipping lightly at your skin in a way that made your breath quicken.

“ just think how fuckin pretty you’re gonna look “ she whispered in your ear, one hand sliding over your thigh and squeezing softly “ gonna look so good taking my cock aren’t you baby? “ her hand slipped past the waistband of your leggings, smirking when she pressed against the soaked patch of your underwear.

“ Jesus Christ Tess “

“ I’ve barely even touched you and look at you “ your hand flew to grab at her wrist as she pushed a finger between your drenched folds, already wound ridiculously tight. Already sensitive. And it was almost embarrassing. Because she had barely touched you, and there you were soaking through your panties.

She used her spare hand to cup your face, bringing you in to kiss her in a way that seemed far too tender for her. That felt too innocent compared to the way her finger was slowly circling your clit.

She pushed lightly at your shoulder and you took the hint, shuffling up the bed and letting her lay you back. Her lips didn’t leave yours once, quite the opposite. They became a little more forceful, hungry. Your entire body felt like it was burning up, nervous energy buzzing through every single nerve ending. Every single place that her body was touching yours was ablaze, electric. Alive.

She pulled herself away and smiled as you tried to chase after her lips, drunk on the taste of her. Your hand reaching out for her neck, attempting to pull her back down but she simply took your hand in hers. She pressed a kiss to your knuckles and then placed it back down.

“ patience baby. I need to get you ready okay?” You nodded, ready to do whatever she asked of you with a split second of notice. She sat back and made quick work of ridding you of your leggings and underwear, then your shirt, leaving you completely exposed under her gaze.

In the past you had felt almost scrutinised under your lovers gaze. But never with Tess. It was impossible to feel even remotely self conscious when she was looking at you like that. Like she was going to absolutely devour you any second. Like no other woman existed on the face of the earth.

She seemed almost desperate to touch you as her head found itself between the valley of your breasts, kissing at every inch of skin she could see.

She was working you up, getting you as relaxed as she possibly could. And you were more than willing to let her, sighing in bliss as her hands and lips wandered. You felt like putty in her hands, soft and malleable to whatever she wanted to do you. Sucking and licking, teeth grazing and nipping as her hand continued it’s way downwards.

You couldn’t help squirming around under her touch and she held a hand to your hip in some attempt to keep you in place, pushing you back down as you pushed your hips up against her thigh in some attempt to get a little friction.

“ Tess- “

“ patience “ she said again with a kiss to your cheek, you huffed in annoyance and she tutted and shook her head “ so fuckin impatient today “ but she clearly wasn’t in much of a mood to keep you waiting really.

She slipped two fingers into you embarrassingly easy, in no mood to take it slow with you. Desperate to have you ready for the toy sitting at the foot of the bed still. She set a steady pace, the sopping sound making your cheeks flush bright red. It was embarrassing how wet you got for her, and how fast.

“ that’s it, need you nice and wet for me “ you pushed yourself against the heel of her hand, searching for some pressure on your throbbing clit. And she let you for a few moments, her teeth nipping at the skin of your neck now, leaving a trail of bruises blossoming in her wake.

You attempted to keep your moans to yourself, failing as usual, as she gently began scissoring her fingers inside you. She watched your face intently as she did, checking that everything she was doing was okay. She was always the same. No matter how bossy or controlling she could be in bed, she never actually wanted to do anything you didn’t like. Your pleasure was always the most important thing to her.

“ don’t you dare come “ she said lowly, noticing the way you’d increased the speed you were grinding your hips up into her hand “ don’t you fucking dare “ it was near impossible not to when her hands were working pure magic between your legs. Your chest heaved in heavy breaths in some hope it would stave your orgasm off.

But Tess knew your body too well. Knew what every single reaction and sound meant, probably better than you did yourself if you were honest. So she knew your tricks and she didn’t want you coming yet. So she simply removed her fingers.

You felt too empty as she withdrew her fingers but before you could begin to complain she was coaxing them into your mouth. She watched you in awe as you sucked on her fingers, your mouth flooding with your own taste.

“ that’s it. Good girl “ she swatted at your thigh lightly with her other hand when she spotted you attempting to rub your thighs together for some relief, giving you a look of mock disappointment “ what did I just say? Do as you’re told “ when she deemed her fingers clean enough she got up from the bed, picking up the toy. You felt too embarrassed to watch her, instead focussing on the ceiling and hoping your cheeks weren’t too red.

You mentally tried to prepare for the sight. The feeling. The intrusion. But found that yes, you were a little scared still, but also incredibly excited.

You felt the bed dip as Tess climbed back on the bed, her warm hands gently pushing your legs apart as she sat herself between them. You chanced a look at her, propping yourself up on your elbows.

It looked a little less intimidating on Tess than it did when she’d first showed it to you. It almost made you laugh at how you’d been scared, but now you were unbelievably curious over anything else. And embarrassed. Incredibly fucking embarrassed.

Which was silly. It was Tess. Just Tess.

You dropped back onto the mattress and covered your face with your hands, an embarrassed groan muffled by your palms. Tess chuckled and you felt her lean down over you, pulling one of your hands away gently

“ y/n “ she was smiling at you as she peeled your other hand away “ Embarrassed? “ she said with a slight teasing tone to her words and you turned your head away, attempting to hide your face in the pillow “ hey hey. No. Eyes on me, look at me “

“ it’s embarrassing “ you said with a little laugh and she rolled her eyes, smile tugging at her lips.

“ I’ve fucked you plenty of times before”

“ not like this “ she brushed your hair away from your face and her eyes scanned over your features.

“ we don’t have to do- “

“ no. No I want to. Jesus do I want to “ you said maybe a little too fast, a little too desperate.

“ okay then. You ready baby? “ it was mildly pathetic how scared you actually were all of a sudden. It was Tess. Your Tess. You had nothing to be worried about “ baby? “

“ yeah “ you breathed out “ yeah. Yeah I’m ready “ you watched her as she licked the palm of her hand before she reached down between you, watching her fingers wrap around the toy. Your cheeks were on fire again, it was practically indecent the way your stomach fluttered at the sight. You craned your neck to watch, gasping as you felt the cool silicone brushing between your folds.

“ hey, eyes up here. Look at me “ your eyes snapped up to meet hers, relaxing a little immediately “ that’s it. Keep looking at me okay? “ you gave a small nod, trying to keep your breathing steady. It hitched in your throat as she brushed the toy lightly over your already sensitive clit “ breathe. If you need to stop you tell me okay? “

“ yes “ you whispered, arousal and desire beginning to cloud your thoughts.

She sat back up, pulling you closer by your hips.

“ spread your legs for me, that’s it keep them there “ she soothed her hands over your thighs for a moment, smirking at the sight of the remaining bruises left there from the other day.

She was incredibly possessive. Always had been. She loved nothing more than littering your skin with marks from her teeth or her fingers. You were hers. No one else’s.

You heart was hammering in your chest as she returned to her teasing, dragging the purple silicone up and down your cunt. It sent a shiver down your spine every time she caught your clit and it only made her smirk. You even found yourself bucking your hips up for more after a minute or so, unashamedly desperate for her to just give you something. Anything.

“ where’s this enthusiasm come from?” She teased and you could do nothing but squirm under her gaze, a pathetic whimper of a sound leaving your throat. It just made her smug look grow even more “ do you want it? “

“ yes “ she had this ridiculous skill of getting you wound up like that, to the point where you felt like an animal in heat. Desperate for whatever relief she would honour you with “ please Tess”

When she deemed the tip wet enough she positioned it at your entrance

“ it might hurt a tiny bit. Breathe through it, relax “ you nodded and she kept her eyes right on yours as she gently pushed into you, eyes scanning your own to look for any sign you no longer wanted it. Your own eyes squeezed shut at the feeling of the unfamiliar intrusion “ that’s it. Good girl you got it “ She entered you ridiculously slowly, allowing only the tip to push past the restriction of your entrance.

She took her time. Easing into you inch by inch, one hand on your hip to keep you in place. Her eyes fluttered between your face and your cunt, wanting to make sure you were okay but clearly also mesmerised at the sight of the toy slowing vanishing inside of you.

She held it there for a few moments, waiting for you to give her the go ahead to keep moving and letting you adjust to the unfamiliar girth inside of you.

“ Jesus fucking Christ “ you breathed out, trying to get used to the odd sensation and the slight burn at your entrance as you attempted to stretch to the size.

“ you okay? “ you nodded your head rapidly, eyes still clenched shut. It was almost overwhelming, how unbelievably full you felt. How deep she seemed to be inside you “ do you need me to stop?” Her hand cupped your face gently and she rubbed soft circles into your skin, coaxing you to open your eyes “ baby you need to talk to me “

“ no no it’s just- it’s a lot. Let me just- “ you took another deep breathe, unable to stop your squirming as your walls clamped down around the thickness of the toy “ okay. Okay I’m good “

She pulled almost completely out, pushing back in until the toy filled you completely again. She remained at a slow pace at first, hands holding your hips firmly as your back arched off the mattress.

“ fuck “ she said under her breath, looking down at you like you were the most incredible thing she’d ever laid her eyes on “ you know how pretty you look right now? “ you’d already slipped past the point of forming coherent sentences, your brain filled with nothing but how unbelievably full you felt. How with every thrust she made it seemed to hit a part so deep inside you, that you hadn’t even been entirely aware even existed.

You needed more. So much more.

“ can you- faster. Tess. Please I just- more “ your broken attempt at a sentence seemed to make some sense to her, her hands sliding over your legs again and settling back on your hips.

She picked up the pace, settling herself into a rhythm that had your breasts bouncing, a string of embarrassingly vulgar sounds leaving your throat. The room was filled with the sounds of you. Your moans. The ridiculously wet sound coming from between your legs. And Tess’ own heavy breaths.

It felt filthy. But in the greatest way.

“ look at you “ she she said with more joy on her face than you’d ever seen, smiling down at you as your hands twisted into the bed sheets and you attempted to muffle your moans in your pillow “ look so fucking good taking my cock don’t you? Huh? “

“ Tess “ you whined her name at the poor indecency of her words, ears ringing as you tried to focus on staving off your orgasm as long as possible. But it was near impossible. All you could think about was the bruising sensation of the toy pressing hard against your cervix with every single thrust she offered you.

“ doing so well “ she praised “ taking me so well “ you were chasing your orgasm now, knowing you wouldn’t actually get it until she said you could. But you were going to try either way.

You moved one hand down your body, circling the sensitive nub of your clit in a desperate attempt to get off.

“ I don’t remember saying you could touch yourself “ you held her eye contact in some way of being defiant, rubbing yourself faster even if just to prove a point “ are you that desperate?” She grabbed at your hand and you gasped as she moved back over you, pinning your hands down above your head “ I asked you a question “

“ please Tess “ you whimpered, wishing she could feel the way your cunt fluttered around the toy that was still buried inside you. She shifted her hips to press even further into you in a way that was almost painful, a squeak of a sound escaping you.

“ I thought you were being good “ your hands twisted in her grasp but she had always been stronger than you.

“ i- I am. I just need- please I need- “ Her eyes scanned your face for a few moments before seemingly deciding on something.

“ I got you “ she slipped out of you so suddenly it made you whimper at the loss “ be patient “ she smirked, kissing you in a way that took your breath away again. She pulled away far too quickly, making you chase after her lips again as she moved away. Which only made her laugh. You watched her carefully as she positioned herself sitting back against the headboard, beckoning you towards her with her fingers “ come here “

You didn’t need telling twice.

You were up and straddling her lap in a second, gasping when your sensitive cunt brushed against the now warm length of the toy.

“ you’re gonna be a good girl and ride me “ she instructed. And it was enough for another pathetic whine of a noise to leave your lips “ okay? “ you nodded, already reaching between you and wrapping your fingers around the now sticky silicone “ someone’s eager “ you nodded, brain too foggy to form a coherent thought never mind form a sentence “ Tell me “ she said, hands gripping tightly at your waist to stop you before you could go any further.

It was mean. To make you talk. To make you attempt to speak when your brain was absolutely frazzled, filled with nothing but a desperate aching need to be filled by her again.

“ Tess “ you whimpered in some hope she’d just feel sorry for you and not make you talk. Of course you weren’t going to get off that easy.

“ do as you’re fuckin told “ she nudged her fingers under your chin, an eyebrow raised “ come on. You can do it. Use your words “ she dragged her thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down and watching it snap back into place again with a smirk “ tell me how much you want it “

“ so bad “ you whispered, eyes closing and cheeks flushing with heat “ need you so bad Tess “ you didn’t need to look at her to know she had that stupid smug smirk plastered across her face, enjoying it far too much.

“ need what? “

“ fuck Tess “ you dropped your head to her shoulder and tried to clear the embarrassment and fog clouding your thoughts “ I can’t I- “

“ yes you can “ she cooed, a hand brushing over your hair “ one little thing and then you can fuck yourself on my cock again. Isn’t that what you want? “ you nodded weakly “ then be a good girl and tell me what you need “

“ need you to fuck me “ you whimpered into her neck “ please I need it so bad “ usually she’d had made you say it again. Say it louder. Repeat it until you were practically begging for your life for it.

“ good girl that wasn’t so hard was it? “ you took that as your go ahead, lifting yourself before sinking slowly back down with an almost dreamy sigh.

There was less restriction the second time around, the deliciousness of the stretch still there but the uncomfortable burn no longer present. You sank down until she completely filled you again and you were seated flush against her thighs.

The way Tess was watching you was enough to make you come on the spot. No one had ever looked at you like that. Like you were some mythical creature, a goddess walking amongst mortals. It spurred you on to put on a show for her.

“ and don’t you fucking come until I tell you “ she said with a warning squeeze to the flesh of your hips.

You anchored yourself with your hands on her shoulders, rising up again and setting yourself into a steady rhythm. It felt filthy. Entirely too erotic for you to even comprehend, the sweat making your skin slick as your thighs pressed against hers, sounds reminiscent of a fucking pornstar escaping your lips.

Her fingers were pressing harshly into your skin, guiding you up and down on the phallic shape between her legs, you knew you’d bruise tomorrow but you didn’t even care. You wanted her to bruise you. To mark you. You needed a lasting reminder of the moment, needed to be able to glance down at the purples and blues on your skin and feel the ache in your cunt.

You felt primal, completely and utterly consumed by the woman beneath you. the short and quick breaths leaving her everytime you dropped down, the harness clearly brushing wonderfully against her everytime, were like music to your ears.

“ you look so fuckin pretty like this “ she said for what felt like the millionth time, but you’d never get bored of it. She was a little breathless, her eyes not looking away from you for even a second “ you’re so fuckin good for me arent you baby? My good girl huh? “

“ yes “ you whined, rolling your hips in some attempt to rest your legs as your thighs began to burn with the effort. Her hands shifted to grab at the globes of your ass, urging you to slow down a little and go at the pace she wanted.

“ that’s it baby, like that. Just like that “ the all too familiar pressure in your belly was beginning to grow stronger by the second and you knew you didn’t have much left in you. Tess knew you far too well and even though she couldn’t feel the way you were squeezing around the toy, she clearly saw it in your face “ you want to come? “ you nodded your head, head falling back and eyes closing as she kept guiding your hips.

“ yeah. Yeah. I’m almost there but- I don’t think“ she gave a small nod, understanding and shifted herself under you a little so she had some leverage.

“ I got you. Don’t worry “ you gasped, the air leaving your lungs completely as she thrust up into you. The feeling all the more intense than the previous position, hitting a new spot inside of you that made you see stars.

“ fuck Tess “ you whined, eyes squeezing shut and head dropping to her shoulder. Her hand slipped between you, a squeal escaping your throat as she began circling your clit with her fingers.

“ you wanna come for me? Hmm? Gonna come all over my cock, huh? “ you couldn’t form words, desperate pathetic whines the only thing that would pass your lips. Her thrusts were so deep, so hard. It made your vision blur, tears stinging at the corner of your eyes “ look at me. Baby I need you to look at me “ you reluctantly lifted your head, your neck feeling as though it were made of lead. Your forehead pressed against hers and she increased the pace of her fingers against your clit, still slower than you wanted but you weren’t about to complain “ you know what you need to do if you want to come baby. Don’t you? “

You nodded weakly, tears now slipping across your cheeks at the sheer overwhelming feelings she was eliciting in you. It was almost too much and not enough at the same time “ ask me “ she said even though you already knew you had to. It was stupid of you to ever think she’d let you even think about coming without getting her permission first. You just hoped she wasn’t going to make you wait any longer, silently praying that she was in a generous mood.

“ please can I come? “ you sobbed, teetering on the brink and just needing her little push to send you over the edge.

“ go ahead baby. Come for me “ it was instantaneous. The most powerful orgasm of your life knocking the breath from your lungs, nails digging into her shoulders in way you were certain was drawing blood. Tess whispered praise in your ear as your body shook on top of her, moaning so loudly they’d probably hear you on the other side of the zone.

Her words stuttered a little as you came through the latter end of your orgasm and you got the feeling your squirming around had been enough to push Tess over too. She wasn’t even remotely as loud as you. In fact it was a miracle if she ever made any noise at all above stuttered breaths.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, catching your breath and letting the fog clear from your mind. Tess pressed soft kisses to your cheeks, erasing the tears that had fallen from your eyes in the softest way possible. The hand that had been firmly gripping your hip, now trailing softly up and down your spine.

“ you did so good “ she said softly “ knew you would “ you hummed an answer cupping her face in your hands, placing a kiss to her forehead, her nose, her lips “ are you okay? “

“ so fucking okay. Jesus “ she smiled and kissed you again, before gently easing the toy out of you, hushing you gently when you flinched at the feeling.

“ you okay to move? “

“ my legs are fucking dead “ you said with a giggle that made her laugh too, shaking her head slightly. She wrapped her arms around your waist and shifted you to snuggle into her chest

“ that’s okay we can stay here “ one of her hands came up to cradle your head, holding you close to her “ we need to take another trip to Lincoln soon. I wanna see what else is in that fucking drawer “

All you could do was laugh.