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moonlightndaydreams · 6 months

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It’s your usual “anime afternoon” with Jisung but you accidentally put on porn.

Pairing: Han Jisung x Female Reader. I don’t use y/n in this.

Trope: Friends to lovers

Style: smut, all smut… 18+ MDNI

Warnings: watching porn (briefly), mutual masturbation, spitting, oral sex (f.rec), orgasms, unprotected piv sex (you know you should be safe guys), creampie.

Word Count: approx 3.6k

——————

“Let’s watch some anime, Sungie.” You called to your best friend Jisung, who was gathering snacks from his kitchen.

“Huh?” He called back, but you were already grabbing the remote flicking on the widescreen television.

“It’s okay, I’ll just put on whatever you’ve been watching.” You added, knowing perfectly well he’d probably moved on from whatever you watched the last time you were over. But you didn’t mind. You just loved spending time with your best friend. Just hanging out and enjoying each other’s company.

You sank back into the couch as the screen came to life. You were startled when high pitched pornographic whimpers filled the room, and a not so innocent visual of an animated woman jerking off an animated man came to life.

A crash came from the direction of the kitchen, and a very flustered Jisung appeared in the doorway.

“Fuck… baby,” he always called you baby, even though you were just friends. You tore your eyes away from the screen to find Jisung standing frozen, horrified, beet red and beyond flustered.

He rushed over to the couch, almost tripping in his haste, making grabby hands for the remote control. But you kept it out of his grasp.

“No, Sungie. I wanna see.” You protested.

Realising he couldn’t get the remote off you, Jisung took to standing in front of the television, arms spread out wide and flapping them about trying to block your view. “Shit! I didn’t mean for you to see this.” He wailed.

“Sungie! Sit down. I mean it. I do want to see. I’ve never seen Hentai before.” you plead and batted your eyelids deviously.

It was true. You were deeply intrigued, and you wanted to see.

You patted the couch cushion next to you. “Come on, Sungie. Sit.”

Jisung hesitated. “Are you sure?” He finally spoke. “You really wanna watch?” He sounded doubtful.

You closed your eyes and nodded vigorously.

“O-okay.” He gulped in disbelief, and nervously sat himself at the opposite end of the couch, keeping as much distance as possible from you (because that way it would be harder for you to see the growing bulge under his sweatpants).

You both sat in complete silence for the next five minutes. Eyes glued to the screen. This was more awkward than you had anticipated. You thought that the pair of you would have a giggle over the size of appendages and breasts, and the excessive amounts of animated jizz.

Instead, you felt yourself growing wet, and a slight ache developing in your core.

And then you realised - this is what Jisung gets off on. Of course he wouldn’t be joking around with you over it. He was probably feeling extremely uncomfortable right now, maybe even judged, and that’s the last thing you ever wanted him to feel.

Closing your eyes and sighing softly, you broke the silence. “Sungie,” you turned your gaze to him and he met your eyes. He looked - different. There was that familiar nervousness about him. But there was something else there too. His eyes seemed darker, his gaze a little unfocused. His eyelids heavy. “You are so quiet, Sungie. We don’t have to watch this.” You said softly. “We can turn it off, okay?”

“Baby, it’s up to you.” He bit his lip. “But,” he hesitated, “it’s gonna take a little while to turn this off!” he jerked his head downwards towards his crotch.

Without meaning to, you dropped your eyes to his lap finding him straining in his sweatpants. “Oh dear! Sungie,” your hands flew up to cover your mouth “Fuck, I’m-I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to look…Oh God, I didn’t realise that you’d…” you started to ramble.

“Baby,” he cut you off abruptly. You closed your mouth and stared at him, jolted by the assertive tone in his voice. Then his expression softened. “It’s porn. My type of porn. What did you think would happen to me sitting here watching this?… With you.” The last part was barely a whisper, almost like he didn’t intend to say it.

For a moment you just looked at each other.

“Look,” he said, ignoring the sudden tension between the two of you. “this might be funny and entertaining to you,” he gestured to the screen, which you hadn’t turned off. “But…there was no way it wasn’t going to make me hard. I'm really sorry, baby. I hope I haven’t weirded you out.” He dropped his gaze to the floor and swallowed a lump in his throat.

“I’m aroused too, Sungie.” You admitted.

Jisung’s eyes snapped up to yours with a perplexed expression, his doe eyes - his hopeful but aroused doe eyes - made him look lost and vulnerable. You felt your core pulse in response.

”Are..are you just saying that to make me feel better?”

You shook your head seriously and swallowed, feeling your cheeks flush. Jisung gulped. God, you felt nervous.

”At least you can hide it. Look at me. Ha ha.” He chuckled and you could tell his anxiety was getting the better of him. He rubbed his hands on his thighs before finding a cushion and placing it over his lap. “Ha ha.. I should have thought of that sooner. Oh sit there cushion. Stay put.” Then he tilted his head back to lean on the back of the couch and squeezed his eyes closed. The boy looked like he was in agony.

”Sungie. Baby.” You felt terrible that you had gotten him into this predicament. He was right. You could conceal how you were feeling, how your body was responding underneath your long, flowy skirt. You seemed so calm and nonchalant when all the while your cunt was begging to be touched, to be filled, and to be sated. You looked at where Jisung had balanced the cushion precariously on his (what you imagined to be) agonising erection. He still had his head back leaning against the back of the couch, and his eyes remained closed.

Your precious Sungie. So fucking vulnerable. Yet he hadn’t sent you away. He hadn’t turned off the porno. He hadn’t left the room. Perhaps he trusted you? That, or his anxiety caused him to freeze rather than fight or flee.

The cushion wobbled ever so slightly, almost falling from it’s perch. Balance. You needed to balance things out. You needed to be vulnerable too.

”I won’t hide it then.” You said steadily.

Jisung’s eyes slowly opened and for a moment he stared at the ceiling as though he was trying to decide if he had imagined your words. Still resting his head on the back of the couch, he lazily turned his face towards you.

”Yeah?” He said low and breathlessly. You couldn’t quite tell if his expression was begging you or daring you to show him. Your cunt clenched.

”Yeah.” You whispered. Your teeth bit into your lower lip as you reached down to the hem of your skirt, and shifted your position to be resting your lower back against the arm of the couch and brought your legs to rest along the couch cushions. Slowly, you began to slide the fabric up your legs. One inch at a time. You kept your gaze on Jisung, who hadn’t moved except for his eyes. They were following your hands as they eventually lifted your skirt high enough to reveal your panties. You let your legs gently fall open, exposing your most intimate place to your best friend, even if it was covered by your panties.

You held your breath just as Jisung sucked in a breath, his eyes glued to the wet patch between your legs. You could feel the fabric sticking to your folds, and having Jisung’s lust filled eyes fixed to it made you gush even more.

The cushion fell off Jisung’s lap, almost comically. But he didn’t seem to care as his hand mindlessly went to palm himself.

“So you’re into Hentai then?…’cos I can give you some links if you want?” Jisung was trying to make light of this very new situation you had found yourselves in, but his voice came out husky and deep.

You weren’t even sure if it was really the porn that was turning you on at this point. In fact, you had stopped paying attention to it when you saw Jisung’s erection. You realised in that moment you wanted Jisung. Your Sungie.

“What would you normally do when you watch porn, Sungie? Show me.” You encouraged.

”Only if you show me what you do.” He countered.

”Okay.” You replied without hesitation.

”So…I’m gonna, like, get my dick out now.” He stated.

“Okay.” You said again. He gave you one last look to make sure you were serious, and when he felt certain that you were, he pulled his sweatpants down just enough to let his cock spring free.

A little whimper escaped your lips as you took in the magnificent sight that was Sungie’s cock. The silky smooth skin with a vein running up the shaft had your mouth watering. The pink, angry tip looked almost painful and you desperately wanted Jisung to feel relief from the strain.

Jisung licked his palm and wrapped his hand around his cock, and started to stroke it languidly. You looked up to find him watching you watch him.

”Hey…um…baby?” He tentatively began, “C-can I get you to, um, do something for me?” He stuttered. “It’s kinda dry… can you, if you want to that is… spit on it? Get it nice and wet for my hand?”

You thought he was going to ask you to suck him off, and part of you wished he had, but you also didn’t want to make assumptions about what he did and didn’t want. This whole situation was uncharted territory, and the last thing you wanted to do was overstep some boundary.

“Okay.” You whispered (was that the only word you knew how to say anymore?) and shifted onto your knees beside Jisung.

Careful not to touch him, because you weren’t sure if you should, you leaned your face over his cock. Pre-cum was oozing from the tip and it was all that was needed to make your mouth water. You watched as a string of saliva left your mouth and connect to the head of Jisung’s cock, before it trickled down the slit and down his shaft. Jisung let out a sharp breath as your saliva made contact and his dick twitched.

”Good girl, baby.” Jisung praised, and you sat up on your knees proud of yourself.

You went back to your position up the other end of the couch and watched Jisung smear your saliva around his cock with his hand before pumping it rhythmically.

The thought alone, of him using your saliva to lubricate his cock, made you desperate for relief of your own. You took this moment to discard your drenched panties and lay a little further down on the couch and prop one leg up on the back of the couch, hanging the other off the side of the couch, your foot resting on the floor. You tried to block out the nerves of being so open and on display for your friend, and instead focus on the feelings of arousal.

You and Jisung locked eyes again. His expression told you he liked what he saw. He looked breathtaking when he was turned on. He looked almost drunk, and most of his nervousness had left him (although your nerves were worse than ever now).

Slowly, you reached for your pussy, spreading your lips apart and dipping a finger into your entrance. You gathered some of your wetness and slid your finger up to your swollen clit where you rubbed circles over it.

Jisung didn’t even try to peel his eyes away from where your hand pleasured yourself.

”Fuck, baby. You're so good to me…showing me how you play with yourself like that.” He choked. “Oh, fuck!” He cried, scrunching his face up and furrowing his eyebrows as spurts of cum took him by surprise and landed all over his tshirt.

”You look so good when you cum, Sungie.” I hope I get to see that face again sometime. You thought..

Jisung grinned that fucked-out grin you’ve seen your previous lovers have after they cum, but none of them looked as sexy as jisung. It only made the desire inside you grow.

Jisung pulled his shirt off to reveal his perfect broad shoulders and tiny waist, and used it to wipe away some of the cum that had landed on his skin and toss it to the side.

He let out a big relieving sigh and brought all his focus back to what you were doing. “Baby, you're glistening.” He said in awe. You were so wet right now, your juices smeared all over your core and even sticking to your inner thighs.

“Spit on it, Sungie.” You purred, mirroring his request. Jisung smirked, and crawled over to you, making your heart rate speed up as he entered your personal space. He stopped only when his face was mere inches from your cunt. “Oh, so you like it really slippery and messy, huh?”

You knew he’d be able to see everything. You were sure he could see your clit throb, your cunt clench around nothing. You were certain he could smell your arousal too. Oh god. It was almost too much to bear having him drinking you in with his eyes like he was.

“Sungie,” you whimpered.

”Shh, baby. Sungie’s got you.” And with that he gathered some saliva, letting it dribble out in a long string. You clenched in anticipation as you watched it fall from his mouth, and hissed under your breath when it landed on your clit and ran down between your lips to your ass.

“Do you… do you wanna touch me, Sungie?”

He glanced up at you. “Fuck, yeah!” He grinned. You reached out to gently cup his cheek, before sliding your hand up to push his dark, messy hair out of his eyes, while he took his thumb and slid it along your sopping slit from your entrance up to your sensitive bundle of nerves, just like he’d seen you do moments before.

“Am I doing this ok?…. Fuck! You’re so slippery!” It was as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing and what he was feeling with his thumb.

“I have to taste you.” He looked up at you. “Can I taste you, baby?”

You nodded. “Yes. Sungie… please, I need to feel your mouth on me.”

Jisung nestled between your legs, resting on his forearms and placed his hands on your inner thighs, pushing them out wider to give him more access.

You kept your hands tangled in his hair as he moved in and attached his plush lips to your centre in a soft kiss.

“Oh!” You cried. His lips felt searing hot, and he’d barely even begun to eat you out. Then he parted his lips and slipped his tongue out to lap at your entrance. You held one of your legs wider, and pulled Jisung’s face closer against your pussy. He devoured you like a starved man, messy and desperate. “Fuck, Sungie! Your mouth… nggghh… your tongue! Fuck!”

You felt fingers at your entrance at the same time he moved his mouth up to latch onto your clit, and you arched your back off the couch when he slid two fingers inside of you whilst nibbling at your clit.

It was all of a sudden too much and you could feel yourself reaching your tipping point. “Sungie… I’m gonna cum… I’m… I’m…” you ground your hips wildly against Jisung’s face as you reached your high. Jisung stayed with you only slowing his fingers as you came down. Breathless, you laid your head back on the chair arm and tried to come back to earth.

Jisung peeked up from between your legs, his shit eating grin covered in your wetness. Your hand still tangled in his hair.

“Kiss me Jisung.” You whispered, using his real name. Moving quick like a cat, he was suddenly hovering over you, caging you in with his strong arms.

You gazed into his beautiful boba eyes. They were what you loved most about your friend. And now he was staring at you like you’d hung the moon. His gaze flickered over your features, lingering on your lips. Then he was kissing you.

His lips were soft and wet from your arousal. You could taste yourself on him. His tongue sought yours frantically, desperate for connection, just like he was with your pussy.

“You’re so good to me, baby.” He panted before connecting your lips again.

For the next few minutes the world fell away, and the sounds from the television long forgotten as you lost yourself to Jisung’s mouth.

You could feel he was hard again as he ground against your bare centre. The fabric of his sweatpants was the only barrier stopping him from slipping inside you. His hand slid underneath your top, caressing the skin on your stomach. Why did his touch feel so hot, burning into your skin and making you melt into a puddle beneath him?

“Baby,” he managed between kisses to your neck. “Are you gonna let me see all of you?” His hand slid up to cup your bra and squeeze your breast gently. “Mmm…Sungie…” you keened.

“Will you show me everything?” He panted, pressing his hot mouth to the skin of your neck again.

“Mmm… only if you take these off.” You smirked and flicked the elastic waistband of his sweatpants. “I wanna feel you against me. Nothing in the way.”

Jisung kneeled between your legs and swiftly stripped you of your top and bra, and then your skirt and his sweatpants.

He took a moment to take in your naked form, muttering a “fuck!” under his breath before lowering his body onto yours.

He pressed his pelvis against you, trapping his hardness between your bodies, and rolled his hips so the length of his cock slid along your pussy.

“Oh god… Oh Sung-” you mewled and wrapped your hands around his neck to pull his naked body closer to yours. You dragged your fingers down his sinewy back and dug your nails into his ass. Jisung groaned into your mouth, shifting his hips slightly. His cock slipped lower, the tip catching on your entrance causing you both to moan pathetically. But he didn’t push inside, despite your wriggling trying to get it to slip in. Jisung peppered kisses along your jaw, while his hands explored the bare skin of your thighs.

“Will you be mine baby? Will you let me fuck you raw? Say you want me… please, baby.”

He was out of his mind. But so were you. You knew you should be safe, to use protection, but the thought of any barrier separating you was too much distance. You wanted, needed him, to feel all of him, even if just for a second.

“Jisung…please… fuck me. Plea-”

You let out a low moan as Jisung sunk into you. Slowly, as though he was savouring the feeling of stretching you out around his cock.

“Is this okay?” He paused once he was fully seated inside you. You nodded and smiled, indicating you needed him to start moving.

“Jisung… you feel incredible.” You whispered against his sweat sheened neck.

Jisung repeated your name over and over like a mantra, worshiping every inch of your body, as he fucked you so very slowly. He took his time like he was in no hurry to reach your climaxes, rolling his hips and hitting your sweet spot at an agonisingly tender pace. Your eyes rolled back in your head when he took your nipple in his mouth, humming around it then biting down.

“I don’t want this to end.” He chuckled softly. “But I don’t think I can hold back any longer.”

You tangled your hands in his hair, and wrapped your legs around his trim waist. “I need you to fuck me good, Jisung. Show me how you want to fuck me, okay, baby?”

Jisung picked up the pace, pistoning hips harder and harder with each thrust. You had to hold on tight otherwise you were sure you’d be fucked right off the end of the couch.

Your cunt clenched tighter around his cock.

“Oh fuck… I’m gonna cum if you clench like that.” He growled.

“I’m close, Sungie.” You panted squeezing your eyes closed.

“Cum for me, baby. Come on my cock.” He reached down and rubbed your clit causing you to shatter to a billion pieces and pulse rhythmically around him.

“Oh Sungie… oh…” you sobbed from the intensity of your orgasm.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you, yeah?” Jisung pushed a strand of hair off your sweaty forehead and smiled. The gesture made your heart burst. Then he started fucking you again. “You feel so good, baby. You’re so good to me. I’m gonna cum…Where can I-”

“Cum inside me. Fill me up. Please…please don’t pull out.”

Jisung’s hips stuttered and watched his face as you felt him release deep inside your cunt. He collapsed on top of you panting and you held him tight, stroking his back.

For a good while that’s how you stayed. Just holding each other silently. The sounds of the porn on the television still filling the room, but neither of you noticing.

“Baby?” Jisung finally spoke.

“Mmm?” You hummed.

He lifted his head. “Does this mean we’re more than friends now?”

You reached up and squeezed his chubby cheek.

“I think so, Sungie. I think so.”

@channieandhisgoonsquad @queenmea604 @queen-in-the-shadows @kangnina @itshannjisung @noellllslut @weareapackofstrays

#han jisung smut #skz smut #han jisung x reader #stray kids smut #sorshas fic

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virtualexperts · 2 years

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lazyneonrabbitt · 3 months

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The better girlfriend

Daryl Dixon x reader | SMUT🔞 [pt.1]

Having some alone time with Daryl in the woods was not as alone as you expected. But you won in the end so it was worth the drama.

It had been a good few months of being with Daryl and developing your relationship into the well oiled machine it had become these days.

Daryl had invited you to go hunting with him so you could spend some alone time away from the community, thinking the woods would be the best place to get some peace and quiet. Just the two of you in the vast greens of the forest.

There hadn't been many walkers around the area, to your luck, you thought. You had been dying to ask Daryl if he was willing to fuck you up against a tree, or at the edge of the lake when the weather allows for swimming.

"Look there." Daryl's hand found your shoulder to pull you in front of him, sandwiched between the large tree and his body. "Righ' there." His breath fanned your ear as his fingers pointed at an animal in the distance.

Or, you thought he was pointing at one, because you weren't seeing anything remotely resembling an animal in the direction of his fingers.

Were you truly that much of a sucky hunter?

"Dee, I don't see any--" The hand that pointed before dropped to your hip so he could grind against you.

"R'member ya sayin' ya watched. Was cuz ya were jealous, aint it?" His voice was low and gravely, barely above a whisper. "Lemme make this huntin' teip a lil' less boring for ya." The crossbow formerly in Daryl's hands was set on the ground, along with your bags, coats, anything but the pants pulled down to Daryl's thighs and the ones dangling from your leg.

"Tap me when yer legs don' want no more." With a swift lick of his lips he moved down to his knees and stuck his fave between your legs. His beard scraped your thighs and his tongue left a trail of heat in its wake. "Oh fuck, Daryl.."

Moving a leg for better acces Daryl now held you up with one hand on your hip and one on the back of your thigh as he lapped at you like he hadn't had a meal in weeks. "Hahh... ahh." You needed a hand up at your mouth to keep yourself from getting too loud. Daryl's wet, sloppy sounds were at least slightly muffled by the plush of your legs that you felt getting slicker by the second as they slowly started to buckle thr closer you got to your first orgasm of the day. Your hand found his hair, "Daryl.. close.." a harsh tug at the roots had Daryl tighten his grip on your hips and let out a vulgar moan against your clit, wrapping his lips back around it to finish you off. He made sure to lick you clean before pulling you down to his level and laying you down on the forest floor.

Daryl crawled over you, staring down at you like a predator ready to devour its prey. The lower half of his face still glitening with your slick and his thick cock dripping in anticipation.

"Looks like you enjoyed yourself too, dear." Your legs went to wrap around his ass and pull his down to you, feeling him press against your centre. Daryl sat up on his haunches to get a nice view of where his cock slowly pushed into your wet heat, rocking back and forth at a steady pace with his large hands on your hips and your legs wrapped around his waist.

Daryl only got a few rough thrusts in before feeling that familiar tug already, wanting to apologize for how short he'd last but the excitement of having you on his turf got the best of him. He finished without a warning, a loud, animalistic groan leaving him as he slumped forward. One hand landing right next to your head on the forest floor and his face inches from you, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath. He panted as he caught his breath, still semi hard inside of you making you want to squeeze your walls around him. Each little squeeze had him whimper, quickly falling to his elbows with his face in the crook of your neck. You could feel him getting hard fast, continuing to pant against your skin as his thrusts started to slowly pick up again. "You feel so good, Dee." Your hand found his hair and tangled your fingers into the strands, keeping his head in place as he rutted into you like an animal chasing its release.

"S'like heaven.." Daryl's entire world disappeared in that moment. There was just him and you, intertwined on a bed of leaves.

With Daryl's face buried in the crook of your neck it was your job to keep an eye on your surroundings, slowly moving your head towards the soft rustle of leaves that had you stare right into the eyes of the hag herself.

Daryl's ex stood further off between the trees with someone you barely recognised. With looking straight into the eyes of thr woman you put your hand back in Daryl's hair, tugging at the roots and earning a loud moan. Your heels dug deeper in Daryl's back, making him thrust even deeper, having you moaning out loud too. Daryl's hand moved in response, finding the closest piece of fabric to wipe his fingers on before moving his hand up to your face and stuffing two thick fingers between your lips to silence you.

All the while your eyes were still glued to hers.

Daryl had noticed nothing of the interaction by the time you returned all your attention to him, quietly whining you were close and getting a likeminded answer in return and not long after laying in each other's embrace, enjoying the afterglow and catching your breaths.

While you got wiped down and dressed you decided to give Daryl the much needed heads up. "Your lovely ex girlfriend and some douche walked by earlier."

Daryl's eyes moved to meet you as he buttoned up his shirt, lifting a brow as a dign to continue. "Yeah, so expect comments as soon as we see them back home."

An affirmative grunt was all you got in reply as you continued to get ready to move on again.

Your checkup along all of Daryl's traps became more of a repair session between cut ropes and raided traps. Not a single one was left untouched.

"No' only did they see us, they had ta break the damn traps too?" Daryl was quick to blame the two, seeing some were undone properly.

"Surprises me she actually listened for once, then. She remembered how to undo this kind." While you busied yourself setting the trap up properly again, Daryl was a few treea down entirely re-stringing one that got cut down in order to take the animal out. "Bet they're back home lyin' their asses off with stolen game."

There was venom in his tone. Daryl had only a few rules when it came to his work in the woods and normally everyone kept to those.

"Rick will know they took it, he'll call them out on their shit."

Your offer to go fishing was denied without a second thought. Daryl was done.

It hurt you to see him so defeated, and you hated how one person could dismiss the community's rules so easily for their own profit.

You came home with nothing, but the guards didn't seem surprised. Only a quick "Rick took care of it." before you moved on.

Before you went back to your house you stopped by Olivia to report the used materials for the repaired traps and swung by the pantry for something easy to eat.

You were about halfway home and couldn't avoid running into the one person you hoped not to see today. Across the street where you had to pass was her home, currently being used to house a get together of the women's clique. And all eyes were on the two of you.

Daryl tried his best to just look ahead and keep moving on, but the second you were right across her home your walk was interupted.

"You just Had to go see how good he is in the woods huh?" The shrill sounding callout was impossible to ignore and had you stop dead in your tracks, Daryl almost stumbling into you. The hand on your side that clearly meant to steer you away did nothing.

"Oh I Know Daryl's good at anything he does in the woods. Didn't need to have seen your squealing hog impressions to figure that out." You made your way across the street. "He's so good in the woods people need to steal from him and flaunt what's obviously his handywork."

"Besides," you cocked your head to the side in a thinking manner. "I could have sworn you thought he was horrible in bed. So what changed your mind?"

Daryl was silently praying for the pavement to swallow him whole at that moment, but then he wouldhave missed the stammering that was happening in front of him.

With all eyes now on her there were no words that could save her from this fuck up.

"Well?" There was a shit eating grin on your face that only added fuel to the fire that was her beet red face, full of anger but unable to form a proper response.

Daryl's side met with yours as his arm snaked around your back and he pressed a kiss to your hair. It was a small gesture, but it had enough impact to take the win as you two watched her walk off in a rage.

The others that still found themselves on her porch gave you two a shrug as they looked to where she disappeared off to. A few "sorry"'s and "I don't know either"'s came from them as you turned to make your way back home.

"Ya know wha'?" Daryl's hand squeezed your hip as you walked home side by side.

With raised brows and a soft smile you looked at him, the soft sunlight highlighting everything you found so beautiful about him.

"M'glad ya saved me from 'er." His hand slid from your body to take yours, lacing together your fingers and playfully bumping shoulders.

On the turn onto your yard Daryl stopped you with a soft tug on your arm, turning you towards him.

You watched him get in his head for a moment, but his hands found yours. The soft slide of his calloused fingertips over the skin of your arms down to the palms of your hands as he took them both in his again.

With a soft steadying breath he leaned in for a most gentle kiss. It took you off guard at first, Daryl never kissed you in public and now he was holding on to you like this for everyone to see.

You kissed him back with the same intensity he was giving, sharing maybe the most intimate moment you've had.

When you broke apart for air Daryl's breath was shaky, the nerves still clear as day in every fiber of his being.

But he was smiling.

Eyes squinted with the uncontrolable pull of the upward curve of his lips.

Your hands were still held in his when Daryl came back to earth. The blue in his eyes overflowing with everything he was feeling in this moment, but only one stood out.

"I love ya. More than anythin' else in the world. Aint no one gon' change tha'."

A/N: Thanks to a very excited sounding reply to the original fic we now have a second part!! I hope you all enjoyed it ♡♡

#sometimes i write #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #twd #the walking dead #twd daryl #daryl x reader #twd x reader

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1427 · 7 months

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something to prove

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Every time your mom goes down to the city with Merle she lets Daryl stay behind and watch TV. The night your boyfriend breaks up with you, you decide you have something to prove.

Warnings: Very vaguely implied drug use, age-gap (reader is 20, Daryl is mid30’s), smut, voyeurism/exhibitionism, masturbation (both m & f), idk there’s something else that happens but idk how to tag it (premature ejaculation???), preTWD!Daryl.

Word Count: 3k

A/n: this is a two part story, possibly three? This started out as a step-dad!daryl idea but I reworked it because not everyone’s as big of a pervert as I am. If anyone wants step-dad imagines (au or otherwise for Daryl, or Negan) lmk. 🥵😈

17+ mdni

\\part 2\\

masterlist

“Who are you?” You ask, to the man standing in your house. Well, your moms house, certainly wasn’t his house. He looked like one of your moms friends from the bar.

“Shit, who are you?” He looks at you, more confused than you are. Scared almost.

“Mona’s kid?” You explain, who else would you be?

“Oh, shit. Didn’t know Mona had a kid. She just left you here?” You look at him like he’s still a stranger standing in your living room.

“I’m 20.” You watch as he sighs a little in relief.

“Right…. I’m Daryl. Uh. Her and my brother took a ride down to the city. Didn’t wanna go, she said I could hang here.”

“Of course she did,” you say to yourself with a sigh.

Daryl watches you as you run to the kitchen and grab a snack and run back toward the stairs, “Well. I’ll be in my room.”

“Wait! Uh.. where’s the remote?”

You sigh, with a smile this time, and step backward down the first step. You walk past him and dig your hand into the recliner that’s facing directly in front of the TV, pulling the remote from its hiding spot. As you walk back toward the stairs you put it to his stomach, and he takes it with both hands. “Thanks” you hear him say, and then you’re gone. Running up the stairs to lock yourself in your room.

✨🚬

Daryl and Merle came over a lot after that. You didn’t see too much of them, when you’re mom had company you knew it was best to stay locked in your room. Not like you’d want to be around her company anyway.

Daryl seemed different than Merle. Everytime you did venture out of your room for a snack, or to leave the house to go see your boyfriend, and you had to interact with things outside of your room, Daryl never spoke. Honestly, it seemed to you like he didn’t even want to be there.

And every time your mom and Merle go down to the city, Daryl stays back and watches TV and smokes cigarettes in the living room. Never does anything else.

You start developing a crush. And you know it’s insane because he’s so much older than you, but you can’t help it. You never thought you’d see someone older like that, but to be fair he didn’t look it. He definitely wasn’t as old as your mom. Probably mid 30’s? Probably. You couldn’t ask. And there was something about him. Brooding, quiet, but… safe. He never bothered you, never looked at you too long like most of your moms friends did. He seemed.. sweet.

You start praying they’ll come over, and then you pray that your mom and Merle will leave. Sometimes they’re only gone for half an hour, sometimes they’re gone all night. No matter how long they’re gone, though, you always go down and see Daryl.

You never really talk to him more than a few passing words, even when it becomes a more common occurrence.

Obviously you try to look as good as you can when you do go down there to walk in front of him. You stand awkwardly by the kitchen island, pretending to watch tv, trying to say something. Usually you can’t come up with anything.

You find yourself wearing more and more revealing clothing, trying to get him to look, but you never catch him looking. And, honestly? It frustrates you to no end.

Why won’t he look?

It’s starting to make you a little crazy, multiple times you’d had to stop yourself from coming down in just a towel.

And then your boyfriend breaks up with you. Probably better off, but the night that it happens you lose it. You’re not heartbroken necessarily, but you are pissed. And you feel like you have something to prove. And all of it bubbles up into something you normally would never see yourself doing.

You come downstairs this time in only an oversized teeshirt. No underwear. Its dark, all the lights off, it is 2am, but for some reason you weren’t expecting it. It should make what you have planned even easier. Less awkward.

Instead of going to the kitchen you walk right up to Daryl and put your hand out for the remote. “I wanna watch TV.”

He looks up at you. Finally. And he hands you the remote. “Alrigh’.”

You change the channel to something else, doesn’t matter what as long as it’s not what he was watching. You settle on an old movie, looked just boring enough. You lay down on your stomach in front of where Daryl sat in the armchair, your teeshirt riding just barely up your ass, just enough for Daryl to be distracted by it. To notice it. To ask himself if you weren’t wearing any underwear.

You hear him take a deep breath from behind you and it makes you smile. Finally.

And you stay like that for a while, absentmindedly looking at the TV, not really watching it. Daryl’s watching you through half lidded eyes. Before you’d come downstairs Daryl was a good five minutes from falling asleep in that arm-chair. But now? His heart hammering in his chest, he has to control his breathing in the quiet living room, to not tip you off that you were affecting him so much. He wasn’t sure what you were doing, or if you were even doing it on purpose. But you’re 20, right? Surely… he figures you have to know.

But if you know what you’re doing, than you’re expecting some kind of reaction, and Daryl… can’t. He can’t move. He can hardly think straight. Looking at your bare legs, the little peak of your ass just barely revealing itself from under the fabric. And then you shift your hips and the tee-shirt falls away even more.

It takes everything in him to keep his breathing steady.

“Are you looking?” Your voice cuts through the silent room, making no attempt to turn back and look at him.

“No.” Daryl says, quickly. His brain scrambling over the new information that you definitely, absolutely, undeniably knew what you were doing.

You smile to yourself, the choked sound of his voice told you everything you needed to know. You can practically feel the heat in his cheeks. The tightness in his chest.

You never thought you’d be as into it as you were getting. Him seeing you like this was burning up your core. Slowly at first and then seemingly all at once. You put your head to the floor in a small moment of defeat over your own body, feeling yourself start to drip down your leg. You wonder if he can see it too. If the light of the TV is reflecting off the little strings of your arousal, coating the inside of your thighs, starting to drip down onto the carpet. A small groan escapes your lips as you raise your hips up off the carpet, keeping your shoulders and the rest of your body down to the ground.

You want to show him what he’s doing to you. You want him to see the mess he’d made. So there you are, your ass now completely in the air, only a few feet from where he’s sitting behind you, “Are you looking now?”

This time Daryl doesn’t respond. Because he can’t. His fingers are whiteknuckled on the arm-rests. And he was losing the ability to control his breathing. He was losing control of the ability to even think about breathing. To think at all.

You don’t mind that he didn’t answer, you knew. His ragged breathing spurred you further. You reach down underneath your body, through your legs, and try to spread yourself open for him with two delicate fingers. Your middle finger slipping through your folds, too slick to hold up to friction. Your hand wipes some of it down your thigh, so you can continue what you’re trying to do.

And you can hear his breath hitch in his throat, making a smile bloom on your face. A sick, cocky smile.

You spread yourself for him, before taking two fingers to your clit and drawing small circles around it. You hiss, your hips spasming at the too sensitive feeling of pressure directly on your nerve bundle, but you keep going.

Plunging two fingers deep inside of you, selfishly. This one wasn’t for Daryl, although he liked it. You needed the delicious feeling of something inside of you. Your fingers hook in you, desperately curling over and over again as you mercilessly assault your own g-spot.

The noises coming out of you could send Daryl into a coma. Not just the half-coherent babbles and deep definitely-came-from-your-chest groans. No, the sound of your slick hand squelching against your cunt so perfectly.

You go back and forth like this, between your clit and your walls, until you feel your orgasm start to bubble over. The dull throb of ecstasy climbing into every limb. You almost forget Daryl’s watching as you put your fingers back inside you, three this time, and ride your own hand until your body is shaking, expletives falling out of your mouth before you can catch them.

You lay there, on the floor in a heap, teaching yourself to breathe again. Until you glance back at Daryl. With one hand covering his mouth his expression is unreadable, but his other hand gripping the arm rest tells you everything. And the hard cock pressing up against the zipper of his pants tells even more.

You’re almost embarrassed, but not quite. Standing up from the spot you’d laid down to ‘watch TV’ you silently walk over to him and wipe your hand off on his shirt. Pressing your fingers hard against his chest through the fabric, eliciting a barely audible moan from him.

He watches you walk away, listening as your bare feet pad up the steps and into your room. It takes him all of three seconds to free his cock from his jeans. Pumping himself furiously, unceremoniously, with his face buried in the spot of his shirt where you’d wiped your juices on him.

The smell of you, the taste of you, so fresh and right there. He laps at the spot until it’s soaked with his saliva. He comes in a strangled mess, trying to be quiet, hot white ropes painting his jeans.

After it’s over he curses himself. He leaves before Merle and your mom get back, to go home and change. Wondering to himself what the hell just happened.

✨🚬

For a week you avoid him. He and Merle come over twice, but you stay in your room the whole time. A little too embarrassed to face him so soon after what you’d done. You didn’t regret it, or feel bad, but your normal personality had returned. With nothing more to prove to yourself, or your stupid ex boyfriend. Not bold enough to masturbate in front of older men. Apparently not even bold enough to show your face in front of him.

You wake up one night in a sweat, having another dream about Daryl. In this one he’d had you bent over the kitchen table. Fuck it’s hot in here, you go to open the window but what you really need is water.

You start to make your way downstairs, only to see Daryl. In the faint glow of the television, eyes wide as he meets yours. “Oh. Hi.” You manage to say, awkwardly standing on the last step before nodding at his lack of response, looking down trying to hide your blush.

You walk to the kitchen silently, getting some water for yourself. Feeling unbelievably uncomfortable, you wanted to be clever. To be coy and cute and everything you were the other night, but the whole thing is making you so nervous you can’t think straight. You just want to get back upstairs before you say something stupid. Before you embarrass yourself by not being that person.

You down a cup of water quickly and toss it into the sink before heading back for your room.

You’re passing in front of the TV when Daryl asks you, “Do you want the remote?”

One simple question, your head spins. You knew what he meant. What he was really saying. ‘Do it again’.

You look over at him, remote on his knee, and you nod. Walking over to him, you pick up the remote from where it sat, but you let your fingers graze all the way up his leg, over the tight bulge in his pants. “Christ.” He says, through gritted teeth.

You smile, that same cocky smile, and take your position down on the ground in front of him. You take your time, at first you really are watching TV. Letting Daryl ache for it. Letting him question if you understood what he’d meant.

He’d been wondering when he was going to see you next, if you’d do it again. If you’d do more. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was definitely the hottest thing a girl had ever done for him. Not like he had all that much experience with women, but he had some. None of it quite like that. Nothing that was so burned into his memory that if he closed his eyes he could still taste you. Still hear those explicit noises coming off your body.

He needed more. He needed to watch you again.

He waits, with baited breath, for you to touch yourself. It feels like it’s taking forever. There’s something about you just down there in front of him, though. It feels like he’s almost able to get off on just that.

Eventually you spread your legs a little bit at a time. Raising your hips again, you play with yourself in front of him like you did before, taking more time. Teasing him.

You slide the top half of your body, flush with the ground, over to the side a little so you can look back at him. Fuck. He’s just staring. Mouth open, eyes half closed, fingers holding a cigarette that he occasionally drags. Just watching. Never taking his eyes off of you. Occasionally he looks back up to your face, all contorted in pleasure, but for the most part he can’t take his eyes off of what your fingers are doing. The light shimmering over every wet part of you.

You sit up for just a second to bring the teeshirt off your body and throwing it to the side. Resuming your position, now completely naked. Vulnerable. You look at him with another smile, his expression is pained.

Daryl’s trying so hard to keep himself in control. To not touch himself until you’re out of the room, that would be too much, right? He’s convinced himself that there’s no way he can pull his cock out in front of you. He’s so much older, even if you’re 20. Even if you’re in front of him, doing this. Pretty, delicate, messy pussy spread out for him. Begging for him. He can’t. He’s got to control himself. Plus, it’s too embarrassing. You’re so confident and languid with your movements, he’s sure if you saw him like the strangled mess he was the other night that you’d run out of the room immediatly.

He’s wrong, but it doesn’t matter to you. Of course you want him, and of course you’d let him slither right in behind you and claim any hole he wanted. You would love to see him lose control and touch himself, even if it was something you’d never seen a man do before. Of course you would. But the feeling of his eyes burned into you is so exquisite on its own.

Daryl’s losing his fucking mind, though. You’re doing it all different than last time. Slower, hotter. Grabbing at your tits with your other hand. Fuck. His head is dizzy, he feels like he’s going to pass the fuck out. And then you start riding your hand again. But not like last time, last time your fingers were hooked into you so tight that Daryl silently begged for you to just fuck yoursef with your fingers instead. He wanted to watch your lips spread out and over them. Wanted to watch you fill and empty your cunt with your two fingers over and over, and now that’s exactly what you’re doing.

Daryl’s chewing on his thumb, anything to keep his hands away from himself. Every time you pump your fingers inside he feels his hardened length spasm. So tight into his pants, the friction actually starts to feel good.

You add another finger, and then another. It’s too much for Daryl, who was again silently begging you to do that too. To stretch that little pussy even more for him. Before he can even comprehend what’s happening, his vision goes white. Daryl’s cock spasms violently, cum coating the inside of his pants. His thumb is bleeding from where he’d bit down on it, and he’s never been more fucking embarrassed in his life. Never been more surprised, confused, turned on.

He watches as you ride out your high, following with your own earth shattering orgasm only a few moments later. He looks down to you to see if you had any idea of what had happened, but you don’t.

You have no idea he just came in his pants without even touching himself. Just from watching you.

pt 2

a/n : thanks to @norman-fucking-reedus for helping me with some ideassss for this 💕🤘🏻

#daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader

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bellaxgiornata · 9 months

Text

The Devil at Your Window |1: Snowed In|

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word count: 8k

Warnings/Tags: 18+; fluff, flirting, sexual tension, light angst, pining, eventual smut, identity reveal, and lots of black suit Matty

Series summary: In the middle of a New York City blizzard, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen accidentally lands himself on your fire escape–quite literally. When he accepts your invitation to warm up inside your apartment, you're surprised at how well the conversation flows all night with the curious and attractive masked vigilante. He's intriguing, though what you find even more intriguing is his unexpected returns to your window after that night–and his flirting. But when it seems like you're not the only one beginning to develop real feelings, he pulls back and you're left wondering two things: Why did he disappear and who really is the mysterious Devil that you've inevitably fallen for?

a/n: Just a short collection of one shots that I'll update whenever the ideas strike. It'll be told in a style like Falling for the Devil but it won't get nearly as long (unless y'all end up loving it, too). I just couldn't deny giving us all the fantasy of black suit Matt reappearing at your apartment window and all the flirting, sexual tension, feelings, and naughty things that might ensue... The installment list for this little series can be found here and feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @danzer8705 @darkened-writer

Picking up the steaming mug of tea you’d just finished making from off the kitchen counter, you cradled your other hand around the warmth of the ceramic and drew it towards your chest as you turned and headed back towards your living room. The small spot of heat against the front of your sweatshirt caused a shiver to run down your spine as your sock-clad feet padded along the cold hardwood floor and back towards your couch.

It was freezing inside your apartment tonight and the blustering snow storm raging outside in Hell’s Kitchen wasn't helping. Thankfully your office had already announced its closure for tomorrow before you'd finished work earlier this evening. The snow had already started to dump from the sky before you’d even left the office, falling heavy and wild as it accumulated in a cover of white that blanketed everything in the city. It would have been beautiful if you hadn’t needed to walk home afterwards in the frigid mess–especially with the way the large clumps of snowflakes pelted and battered you in the face over and over, the cold stinging at your skin.

The city was expected to get a whopping eighteen inches of snowfall minimum over the next twenty-four hours, so you were grateful that your boss wanted as little to do with making it into work tomorrow as you did, especially because you couldn’t afford to do anything but walk to the office. The last thing you wanted to do was trudge through all of that mess and slip on a patch of ice, inevitably falling in a massive pile of snow and leaving you stuck in damp dress clothes all day.

No, you'd rather stay dry and cozy at home enjoying a lazy day off of work.

You were just hoping the power in your apartment building remained intact throughout the fury of the winter storm. You didn’t want to think about losing the heat in your building in the middle of all of this. Another shiver ran through you as you pushed the thought away–hopefully not something you’d need to worry about tonight.

But since you didn’t have work first thing in the morning, you had every intention of enjoying your night. You’d immediately come home and thrown off your dress clothes before settling on something comfortable–soft sweatpants and a cozy sweatshirt sans bra underneath. Then you’d made dinner and cleaned it up fast before claiming your ‘spot’ for the evening on your couch. Which consisted of both of your blankets and the television remote while you binged a guilty pleasure show that you hadn’t had time to catch up on for the past few weeks. Tonight you were intending to stay up a bit late, cozy up beneath your blankets, drink some hot tea, and lose yourself in the plot and romance of the show before eventually dragging your tired ass to bed in the hopes of sleeping in tomorrow to make up for staying up late.

Eyes focused on the paused television screen as you moved, you rounded the side of your couch while drawing your steaming mug up to your lips. You sipped at the warm liquid, reveling in it for a moment before you swallowed it down. You could feel it heat you from the inside out as a pleasant sensation washed over you. Your eyes closed briefly for a moment–it was the first time you’d actually felt warm today.

Opening your eyes, you continued towards the couch and began to lower yourself down onto the cushions while trying not to spill any of your tea from the mug. Just as you were about to sit back down on the couch and cocoon yourself in both of your blankets, ready to settle in for more of your show, something outside the window to your right caught your attention. Your head spun in the direction just as a flash of black dashed past the window and a loud bang reverberated through your apartment.

A frightened yelp slipped out of you at the sound and you clutched your mug tight to your chest, your heart thudding heavily in terror. Whatever had just literally dropped onto your fire escape had been large, especially with the sound of that impact. Sucking in a breath, you held it as you stared transfixed at the window, almost ridiculously terrified it would be some sort of wild animal–like a bear or a wolf–on your fire escape.

Though, more realistically considering you were in New York City, you knew it was probably a burglar. Who else would be traversing fire escapes late at night? Especially dressed in all dark clothes? Except…that also seemed a little ridiculous, too. There was a literal blizzard happening outside, meaning everyone would be home. In their apartments. Making it impossible for a burglar to break into anyone’s place unseen. Plus, it was insane outside, what criminal would risk dealing with that right now?

So what the hell had just fallen onto your fire escape?

Another thought struck you soon after and your lips parted in shock at the idea as you blew out the breath you’d been holding. With trembling hands, you very slowly reached out, carefully placing your mug of tea onto the coffee table before you without taking your eyes off of your window. Gradually, almost nervously, you rose to your feet before taking hesitant step after hesitant step forward. Another sharp, surprised gasp flew out of you when you saw the dark figure sit upright on your fire escape, bent in half as if they were in pain. Which made sense, considering the fall they’d just taken.

But your body froze up instantly at the sight of the man dressed in all black bent in half and dusted in white patches of snow. He wasn’t a burglar at all. With the black cloth tied over his head and the form fitting shirt he was wearing, there was absolutely no mistaking who he was. You'd certainly seen enough images of him plastered across the media.

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen had just fallen onto your fire escape.

Eyes widening in shock at the infamous vigilante attempting to pull himself up to his feet, one of his gloved hands holding onto the metal railing of your fire escape, you were suddenly overcome with the urge to check on him. To make sure he wasn’t seriously injured from that fall.

Without thinking your actions through, you crossed the last few steps to the window and unlatched the locks before pushing it up. The masked figure immediately spun towards you at the sound as a bitter gust of wind burst its way into your apartment, chilling you instantly while those thick snowflakes once again assailed your face. For a moment you locked eyes with him–or at least, it seemed like you did despite the fabric covering half of his face–as your mouth hung open. You suddenly found yourself at a loss of what to say in the moment. And considering the way his lips thinned out along his face and the way he remained silent, he clearly wasn’t going to strike up a conversation with you, either.

Eyes darting down, you saw he had one gloved hand clutching at his right side as if it hurt him. His shoulders were hunched in on himself as his back faced the violent winds blowing snow relentlessly. Seeing him in person for the first time ever–something you’d never expected in your life considering how elusive the media made him out to be–you realized just how thin and unprotective his clothes really were. Especially tonight considering the cold weather. He had to be freezing.

An icy wind whistled loudly, another flurry of heavy snowflakes pelting you right in the face and breaking you from your thoughts. Blinking the snow from your lashes, you finally found your voice.

“Are you alright?” you asked hesitantly, unsure how one should approach the masked man. “I just–just saw you fall. It looked like it hurt.”

He gave a curt shake of his head, wincing before he turned more towards the railing. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he replied.

Something warm flooded your veins at the gravelly tone of his voice. It suited him somehow, even if it sounded fake. Like he was pitching his voice lower to sound like someone else in order to hide his identity. Not that you'd probably have recognized him anyway.

With his back partially to you now, especially this close when there was barely a few feet of space between the pair of you, you could see just how incredibly muscular this man was. His black shirt clung to him like a second skin, the toned abdominal muscles on his upper body clearly visible even from just his profile. Even the pectoral muscles of his chest were well defined and visible beneath the sheen of black. His arms were thick–far too big for just one of your hands to wrap around. And as your gaze lingered lower, you fought back the thoughts that entered your mind at the sight of how large his thighs were in those tight pants–and how pleasant a profile his ass also had. You wondered briefly if he'd gained all that from working out or if it had more to do with his nightly activities.

Though when you saw him grab onto the metal railing of your fire escape with both of his gloved hands, the movement drawing your attention away from observing him as he attempted to swing himself over it, you nearly screamed as you lurched forward. You lived on the fifth floor, was this man really about to fling himself off of the fire escape from all the way up here?

But the scream died in your throat the moment he cried out in pain, his feet slipping from off of the railing as he fell back onto your fire escape. He let out a hiss of pain as he clutched at his clearly injured side.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out, shoving the window open wider despite the cold and snow and leaning further forward. “You’re clearly not okay. Do you need something? An ambulance or something? Is there someone I can call? Or–or something I can do to help?”

The man rolled off his injured side and onto his back, gradually turning towards you as he lay on the fire escape. You hadn’t expected the amused and pained chuckle he emitted while the snow accumulated on the entire front of him, lightly covering the thin layer of his black shirt. Which you’d noticed had ridden up, revealing a small sliver of skin just above the dark, form fitting pants he was wearing. You tried hard to not keep glancing back at that patch of skin as it slowly rose higher and higher, unsure why you were so distracted by it.

The sound of his amusement soon drew you back to the moment and you cringed. Why the hell was he laughing?

“Are you alright? Did you…hit your head?” you asked him cautiously. “Maybe you have a concussion…”

Another amused sound slipped out of him, but that was quickly followed by a pained groan as he tried to once again rise up onto his feet. “I don’t have a concussion,” he assured you.

“You sure?” you asked, an eyebrow arching onto your forehead as you crossed your arms over your chest to stay warm when you began to shiver from the cold. “Because this doesn’t seem like a funny situation to me.”

“Well,” he grunted out, wincing as he drew back up to his full height, “normally I’m the one offering assistance, not the other way around. So yeah,” he continued with a faint shrug, your eyes once again catching the way he was holding his side, “it’s kind of amusing. In an…irritating sort of way.”

Your heart sank to your stomach at his words. “Oh, sorry,” you muttered, heat rushing up to your face instantly. “I didn’t mean to be annoying. I was just concerned–”

He took a half step forward, cutting you off as he waved a hand between the pair of you. He shook his head, letting out a slight huff of laughter. “No, I didn’t mean you were irritating. Just…this situation. The–the snow and the falling part.” In a quieter voice he added, “And having an audience for it.”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you stood there studying him for a moment. He was injured and wearing barely anything at all in the middle of a blizzard. He looked like he needed help even if he seemed like the type not to ask for it.

“Do you want to come inside?” you blurted, unable to stop yourself. “I mean, to get warm and maybe sit down for a moment? I could call an ambulance or–or a taxi or something to bring you to a hospital.”

Another amused huff of laughter slipped out of him as he shook his head. “No hospitals, please. I’ll be alright. But…if you’re offering, I wouldn’t mind a moment to warm up.” His gloved hand lowered, pinching a bit of fabric from his shirt as he glanced down at it. “Admittedly this doesn’t offer much protection from the elements.”

You eyed the thin material between his gloves doubtfully. “Doesn’t look like it offers much protection from anything,” you told him.

A surprised bark of laughter peeled out of him, the sound drawing a smile onto your face. You’d made the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen laugh. Now that was something you weren’t going to forget anytime soon. He didn’t seem like the type to break character easily.

“You wouldn’t be wrong,” he agreed, his laughter subsiding.

Taking a step back from the window, you waved a hand towards him, gesturing for him to come inside. “How about you come in so I can close this window and we both can stop freezing?” you suggested, surprised at how bold you sounded considering who it was you were speaking with. “I’m shivering already so I can only imagine how cold you must be.”

You watched as his lips curled up into a charming grin at the corners, just beneath the black fabric of his mask. It was impossible to deny that he had a handsome face–at least, from what you could see of it. You imagined the rest of it to be just as attractive beneath that cloth and a sudden intense curiosity to know what the rest of it looked like overtook you as you watched him carefully climb through your opened window. He moved slowly, wincing in pain as he made his way inside. Despite his tough act, that fall must’ve really hurt his side and you frowned, wishing he’d accept your offer to help. There was no way he was as fine as he claimed to be, surely he needed medical attention.

“Takes a special kind of person to just invite me into their home so readily,” the Devil’s rough tone came out as he turned his back to you, shutting the window after himself. “Normally people prefer to avoid me.”

“You’re not dangerous,” you replied almost instantly.

The window closed with a sharp clack before his masked face turned over his snow-dusted shoulder, his attention fixed on you. “Oh?” he asked curiously, a smirk growing over his lips. “I’m not?”

Your eyes were drawn to his mouth, though it wasn’t like there was anywhere else to look when you spoke to him with that mask covering most of his face. The smirk appeared teasing, and for some reason that had the hair on the back of your neck bristling. You suddenly became very aware of the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra beneath your loose sweatshirt and it was now cold in your apartment. Quickly your arms wrapped over your chest, hugging yourself tight. His lips almost seemed to curl ever higher in response.

“I mean, you are ,” you amended, “but to, you know, criminals.”

You swallowed hard when he remained still, gazing at you over his shoulder wordlessly.There was something almost predatory in the way he was studying you. It was easy to see how this lone man terrified the criminals on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, striking fear into them. He certainly had a presence. Goosebumps rippled beneath the sleeves of your sweatshirt at his continued silent stare.

“Right?” you asked tentatively, voice softer.

His smirk vanished as the other corner of his mouth curled upwards into what felt like a warm smile despite you being unable to see if it reached his eyes. He nodded gently, turning slowly back towards you as he did.

“That's correct,” he agreed, brushing the snow from his broad shoulders. “I’m only dangerous to criminals. So unless you’re hiding any dead bodies or have some outstanding charges…?”

You laughed, though abruptly you snatched your bottom lip between your teeth in an attempt to quiet the noise instantly. He was witty and funny. You weren’t anticipating that. Or the way your reaction to his quips seemed to please him, like he was trying to charm you. Which seemed even more curious, considering who he was and what he spent his nights doing.

“Can't say that I do,” you said. “I'm probably the most boring person in Hell’s Kitchen.”

“Well now,” he replied teasingly, “don't sell yourself short. I'm sure you're not taking that title all by yourself.”

That charming smile was back on his face and it had your stomach fluttering. Tearing your eyes away from him, you noticed the television was still paused on your show. Paused on a scene where the two actors on screen were clearly about to kiss. Cheeks burning, you hurried over and grabbed the remote from the couch and turned it off.

“You can make yourself comfortable if you want,” you told him, trying to keep the embarrassment out of your tone. “I've got a couple of blankets you can use to help warm you up.”

His heavy boots thudded with each of his steps as he crossed the room and made his way to the couch. You bent over, grabbing both blankets from your place on the couch where you'd previously been curled up as he passed behind you. The moment one of his cold gloves brushed against your back, you froze.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“No it's–it's fine,” you replied.

He passed behind you before settling onto the opposite end of the couch from where you had clearly taken residence. You forced a smile onto your face as you turned and leaned over, holding out the blankets towards him.

Pull yourself together , you internally chastised yourself. Just because it's been a while since you've had a man here doesn't mean you need to react to every little thing. That's not what this is, obviously.

“Thank you,” he said, accepting the blankets from your outstretched hand.

You nodded before sitting back down on the opposite end of the couch, keeping space between you and him. Curling your legs up under yourself, you watched as the Devil wasted no time throwing both blankets around himself, beginning to visibly shiver beneath them as he tried to warm up.

“Are you sure you don't want me to call anyone?” you asked him.

“No one to call,” he answered. “And a hospital would defeat the purpose of trying to remain anonymous.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” you muttered, glancing away and spotting the forgotten tea on your coffee table. “Would you like something to drink at least? Some water or some hot tea, maybe?”

His masked head tilted curiously to the side at your question, a grin returning to his plush lips. “Playing hostess?” he asked.

“Well I'm sure you've got to be thirsty running around Hell’s Kitchen and fighting criminals all the time,” you explained. “I always sort of wondered if you stashed water bottles around the city or stopped for water breaks somewhere–not where you live, I imagine. Since you're trying to keep your identity hidden.” Your eyes narrowed as you added, “Or do you just let yourself get dehydrated every time you're out? Because that's not good for you, you know.”

The Devil's grin grew wider as he shifted on the couch, facing you even more from his place on the cushions. “Oh?” he asked, curiosity in his tone. “You've thought about me before, have you?”

Eyes dropping down to your lap, you smiled sheepishly as you shrugged. “I mean, I've had some theories circulating about you ever since you kept reappearing in the news,” you admitted awkwardly. “Sort of hard not to.”

“Well now you have to indulge me,” he teased. “Enlighten me on some of these theories of yours.”

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you continued to avoid his covered stare. “I mean, they're not that interesting…”

“Oh come on,” he tried again. “It's not like we don't have the time. And maybe I can confirm or deny some of them for you. Besides, I admit I’m curious to know what you think of me. Especially being so willing to offer help like you did.”

Chewing your bottom lip, you glanced up at him from beneath your lashes. He looked far less intimidating beneath your blush pink blanket now. What would it hurt if you told him a few of your ideas about the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen? Maybe he might laugh at them, but would hearing that sound again be all that bad? And it truly would be interesting to learn more about the mysterious vigilante, something you'd probably never have the opportunity to do again.

“Okay,” you agreed with a nod. Straightening up on the couch, you turned to face him more fully. “So I've always thought with the way that you fight that you were trained by some sort of secret ninja assassin organization.”

A hearty chuckle filled your living room at your first theory. The pleasant and resonant noise left you grinning as your stomach fluttered in response. You briefly wondered how often the Devil actually laughed when he was out.

“I cannot confirm nor deny that,” he responded.

The playful smile that kept appearing on his face was beginning to further disarm you. You found yourself enjoying his company, soon becoming used to the way half his face was hidden from sight with that ridiculous fabric. And for some reason your unexplainable attraction to him was only growing.

“Next theory,” he prodded, the smile on his face apparent even in his voice.

“You're not wealthy,” you stated, leaning forward and grabbing your tea from the coffee table.

“Oh, ow,” he joked, playfully recoiling back from you on the couch. “What makes you say that?”

You waved a hand at him across from you as you settled back into the cushions, mug in hand. “Because you wear clothing that is obviously not meant to protect you very well in a fight,” you answered. “I imagine if you had money you'd have something…nicer. Meant for what you do. And,” you continued, pausing long enough to drink down some of your now barely warm tea, aware of him focused on you, “you protect Hell’s Kitchen. Only Hell’s Kitchen. This part of the city isn't exactly filled with the wealthiest people. And with how dedicated you are to everyone here, I assume it's because you probably grew up here yourself. Most likely still reside here, too.”

The Devil hummed appreciatively when you'd quieted, his masked gaze still on you. You swore you could feel it as you drank down more of your tea.

“You're observant,” he mused. “Maybe I need to watch myself around you.”

A surge of pride swelled in your chest; you hadn't expected his praise. Or the way it would make you feel. And apparently, you'd guessed something right about him.

“You're also not married or in a serious relationship,” you blurted before you could help yourself, wondering what more you could learn about him.

“Poor and unlovable?” the Devil asked with a surprised laugh. “That's what you think of me?”

“No,” you disagreed, laughing a little with him as you shook your head. “No, but I mean, I imagine you don't have time for someone else. And I figure most people wouldn’t like their partner going out and doing what you do. Putting yourself in danger.”

“Mmm,” he hummed out, shifting on the couch and making himself more comfortable. “A partner would certainly be…a distraction. A liability. One I couldn't really afford to have. So no, you're not wrong, I don't have one.”

You glanced down at your lap, your fingers fidgeting with the mug in your hands. Half of you was hoping to hear that he wasn't with anyone–though you refused to admit to yourself why that mattered–but the other half of you had heard the way he'd said that a partner would be a distracting liability and you’d felt a sad pang hit you in the chest. Considering how much he seemed to be enjoying your company when he didn't even know you had you guessing that the Devil was a lonely man deep down.

But that wasn't a theory you felt comfortable sharing.

“Any others?” he asked, breaking through your thoughts.

Clearing your throat, you focused back on him across the couch from you. His smile had disappeared, his lips now downturned at the corners just a bit. His posture had changed in your silence, the same as his mood, as if he'd picked up on the subtle change in yours somehow.

Strange.

“I imagine you're the kind of guy who's fridge is always empty,” you answered.

A ghost of a smile reappeared on his face as he huffed out an amused breath. You couldn't fight the smile returning to your own lips at the sight of his again.

“Well hey now,” he countered lightly, “there's usually beer. Sometimes orange juice and eggs.”

You giggled, unable to stop yourself. “Who'd have guessed the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen is just your average bachelor?”

“Average?” he repeated in mock offense, his head tilting to the side. “I'm just average now?”

Quirking a brow at him in a challenging manner, your own head cocked to the side. “Maybe tell me more about yourself and I could say otherwise,” you boldly teased back.

“Well obviously,” he began, grinning at you in a way that had your body heating, “I can't exactly do that now can I? Defeats the purpose–

“Of remaining anonymous,” you finished for him. “I've picked up on the importance of that.”

A silence soon settled between the pair of you, one that slowly began to cause your nerves to grow with the way he kept smiling at you. Once again you desperately found yourself wanting to see the rest of his face, curious to know just how handsome he really was under that black mask. Though you settled for studying what you could see, your eyes tracing the soft curves of his pink lips, noticing the way they very minutely twitched under your scrutiny. Eventually your gaze dropped down, following the hard lines of his stubbled jaw. As your eyes trailed further down, they lingered on the part of his neck that wasn't covered by the blankets he’d wrapped around himself for warmth. A heat burned in you as the urge to reach out and just touch him, just to see if he was real, suddenly grew within you. It didn't help that it almost felt like you could feel the weight of his own eyes fixed on you beneath the mask, once again making you very aware of your lack of bra beneath your sweatshirt.

Catching your lip between your teeth, you noticed the way his throat bobbed with a hard swallow. Had he been having similar thoughts? Observing you, too?

Inhaling a sharp breath through your nose at the idea, you knew you needed to stop this line of thinking and stop it fast. There was absolutely no way the Devil would be interested in you. Certainly not like that. That was absurd.

“Would you like something to eat?” you asked, trying to calm your pulse. “If your fridge is empty all the time I'm guessing you could use something to eat.”

“I mean, I suppose if you’re–”

He stopped short the exact moment that the lights died, throwing the pair of you into almost complete darkness. You sucked in a breath, turning to look out the window just to your right. It was eerily dark outside, a sight that was rare in the city. Even the buildings across the street had been thrown into darkness. There was nothing but the howling wind and snow outside.

“Guess it was too much to hope the power wouldn’t go out in this mess,” you breathed out.

“I suppose so,” he replied, his tone just as soft.

Reaching blindly forward, you set your almost empty mug onto the coffee table before you. For a moment you reached around on the surface until your fingers brushed against your phone. You picked it up and unlocked the screen, grateful for the bit of light it shed in the dark as you turned on the flashlight function.

“So I can’t offer you a nice cooked meal without power,” you told him, rising to your feet, “but I can get you an apple and a couple of protein bars? If you’d…like?”

“You don’t have to, but I’d appreciate it,” he said.

“It’s the least I can do for the man who does so much for the rest of us,” you told him, maneuvering around the couch and navigating your way to the kitchen by the light of your phone. “I’d feel awful leaving you hungry and dehydrated.”

Wrapping one arm around your chest to try to fight the chill that had been steadily creeping into you, you headed towards a cabinet near the sink. Reaching up, you grabbed a glass from out of it before taking a moment to fill it beneath the faucet before setting it along the countertop. Then you plucked an apple out of a fruit bowl on your counter, taking a moment to rinse it off first. The moment you’d turned off the faucet you heard his voice from across the apartment.

“You’re cold.”

For a moment you found it odd how his words hadn’t come out as a question but more of an observation, though you quickly shrugged the strangeness of that aside. You set the apple down on the counter beside the glass of water before sliding a step to your right and opening up another cabinet.

“It’s alright, I’m fine,” you answered, trying to shine the light from your phone into the cabinet to read the labels on the boxes. “I wasn’t the one out in that snowstorm wearing barely anything at all.”

“You say that like I was out there naked.”

His voice had unexpectedly come from just behind you this time and it jolted your heart in your chest instantly. His sudden proximity mixed with his word choice had you startling on the spot. Your hand that had been about to pull the box of protein bars out of the cabinet accidentally bumped it instead, causing the entire box to slip off of the shelf. But before it could tumble to the floor and spill its contents, a black gloved hand darted out beside your face, catching it before it had barely fallen six inches.

You stood there rooted to the spot, his hand just brushing your arm as his held the box of protein bars. The hair on the back of your neck had risen, aware that he was standing barely a foot behind you now. Slowly, you turned over your shoulder to look at him. Your pulse quickened further at how close his face was to yours. He was looking at you, too. Or at least, he was facing you. Eyes dropping down, you couldn’t help but notice that mouth of his again.

“I apologize,” he said, your eyes watching as his lips moved. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Sometimes I forget how quiet I can be. I just wanted to give you one of the blankets. No sense in me using both when you’re cold.”

“Oh,” you whispered, unable to form any other response.

With his attention still on you, he reached up and slid the box back onto the shelf. Then he seemed to take a purposeful step back from you, his lips set in a straight line. You wondered what was going on in his mind right now, because you were sure there had to be something. Had he felt the tension you’d just felt? Or were you just ridiculous and overly hopeful?

And why did it even matter? You were never going to see this man again after tonight anyway.

Blinking a few times, you returned your attention to the shelf. Reaching up, you slid your hand into the box that had nearly taken a nosedive to your kitchen floor and pulled out two protein bars. Keeping your eyes actively focused away from the Devil nearby, you closed the cabinet and slid a step back to your left, grabbing the glass of water in your hand with your phone and the apple in the same hand as the bars. Though before you could turn around, you felt something gently drape over your shoulders. Looking down, you noticed it was the pink blanket he’d been wearing.

“Like I said,” he repeated, “there’s no sense in me using both.”

“Right,” you whispered, pulse pounding in your throat.

Turning on your heel, you stepped past him and made your way back to the living room by the light of your phone. This time you heard the heavy steps of him following after you. You assumed that was intentional.

“So why were you out in this blizzard tonight anyway?” you asked him, making your way around the couch. You hoped having something to talk about would distract you from whatever it was he kept stirring inside of you. “Surely there aren’t a lot of crimes being committed in this weather?”

The Devil let out a light laugh as he accepted the offered glass of water and food from you. One of your brows quirked curiously onto your forehead at his reaction as you sat back down in your original spot on the couch. Though you noticed as he took a large drink from the cup while lowering himself onto the cushions that he’d sat closer to you than before. You watched as he ripped open a protein bar and tore off a large bite next, but he didn't answer until a moment later when he’d swallowed the bite down. Internally you noted he must’ve been hungrier than he let on with the way he was devouring that bar and you’d wished you’d had more food to offer him with the power out.

“You’d be correct,” he told you. “And yet I still stupidly made my way out into this storm tonight in the hopes of catching a lead on something. Instead all I got was my ass frozen and my side bruised.”

You watched as he took another large bite of the protein bar, chewing it almost contemplatively as his head canted to the side. You could still see him in the beam of light from your phone which you were still clutching in your hand. Somehow this lighting made him even more appealing as it cast sharp shadows along his jaw.

“Though I suppose unexpectedly meeting you was a highlight,” he added, causing your cheeks to flush. “But you know, you never did give me your name.”

“Well you never exactly gave me yours,” you immediately quipped back.

Those beautiful lips of his curved upwards yet again as he chewed the last bite of the first protein bar. What you wouldn’t give to see if that smile had reached his eyes.

“Alright, point taken,” he replied.

Tearing your gaze away from him, you focused on your phone. If you kept the flashlight running the battery would die in no time. And who knew how long the power might be out for, you might need it later. You supposed you didn't need it on just for a conversation.

“I’m going to turn the flashlight off on my phone for now, if that's alright?” you told him, fingers darting across the screen to do just that. “Might need the battery on this later.”

“That’s alright,” he replied, sounding as if he was chewing another bite of food. “I don’t need it.”

He’d made the comment just as you’d leaned forward to set your phone back onto the coffee table, but you’d paused as the words processed in your mind. Your eyes narrowed again as your mind raced. Something about the way he’d said that sounded as if it had another meaning to it. But before you could put too much thought into it, he’d changed the topic.

“You’re still cold,” he pointed out. “That blanket alone isn't helping.”

Brows furrowing together as you slowly sat back, you wondered how he could possibly know that. The pair of you were in almost pitch black again with your phone flashlight off. It wasn't like he could see you and you hadn't been shivering, though there were definitely goosebumps dotting your skin. How could he possibly know?

“I’m fine,” you said, pulling the blanket you had on tighter around yourself. “It’s bound to get colder here with the power out now.”

“And with how long you had your window open earlier,” he added. “The temperature is going to drop in here faster than it would have if you hadn’t helped me.”

You sighed, frowning in his general direction. “So much for being able to help you warm up,” you muttered. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” he assured you.

It felt as if he was shifting on the couch nearby. Your brows knitted further together as you tried to make out what he was doing through the dark. All you could see was a faint mass of black that seemed darker than the rest of the blackness. Then moments later you felt a blanket being draped over your lap.

“No, uh uh,” you said, shaking your head and immediately grabbing the blanket. “There’s two blankets, we can clearly share.”

“You’re freezing,” he countered.

“And you’re not cold?” you shot back.

“Doesn’t matter, you’ve already been far kinder than I deserved this evening,” he replied.

You grabbed the blanket in your hands and stubbornly tossed it back in his general direction. An audible sigh sounded through the darkness to your left.

“You know I can just leave, right?” he told you. “Which would leave you with no reason to not use both blankets.”

Your eyes narrowed in the direction of the sound of his voice. “But then you’d be allowing more cold air into my apartment, which would only make the temperature drop faster in here,” you argued back. “Then I'd really be cold.”

He breathed out a laugh and you imagined the smile on his lips at the sound. You smiled triumphantly back at the dark shape of him because you knew you had a good point. Even though really, you could just layer on more clothes.

“Okay,” he relented. “That’s true. So how about…we share?”

The smile on your face quickly disappeared at his suggestion. Mouth dropping open, you felt your heart skip a beat in your chest. It took you a few seconds to regain the ability to respond.

“Share?” you asked.

“Body heat would certainly keep us both warmer,” he answered. “So would sharing two blankets instead of using only one.”

“Oh, uh, well,” you stammered, your mind racing at the thought of your body pressed up against his. “I–I–”

His deep laugh rumbled towards you through the darkness, the sound causing your lips to clamp shut.

“I’m not suggesting anything immoral,” he assured you. “Simply a possible solution to the very real problem of us freezing in here. Unless, of course, you’d prefer me to leave?”

“No!” you exclaimed.

Immediately your eyes widened in horror at how quickly you’d responded to that. And judging by his chuckle, he’d also noticed, too. Your face scrunched up as you mentally scolded yourself for sounding so eager to keep him here in your apartment.

“Well in that case, we could share the blankets and our body heat,” he suggested again. “Because the temperature has definitely dropped a few degrees already and it's only going to continue if the power stays out.”

Nervously your tongue slid out, licking your lips. You were trying hard to control the racing of your heart, positive he could hear it with how hard it was beating now. Of course you weren’t going to pass up a chance to basically cuddle the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen for warmth during a snowstorm. You just needed to find a way to not sound so eager to accept his offer first.

“I suppose you…have a point there,” you said slowly, trying to keep your voice even. “That’s–that’s usually what people do in survival situations. Use their body heat to keep warm.”

An amused huff came from him and you realized he’d scooted even closer to you on the couch. Your breath caught in your throat the moment you felt his thigh bump against yours.

“So are we in agreement with sharing both blankets, then?” he asked.

“That–that appears to be the most logical solution to the problem,” you answered. “So yeah, I guess we…share the blankets.”

Despite the lack of light, the Devil seemed to move with ease and fluidity through the darkness, something you were paying close attention to as he gently sidled his way up against the side of you, managing to wrap both blankets around the pair of you. All the while you’d sat pin straight on the couch, aware that he was flush to your side from your shoulder all the way down to your knee. You clasped your hands in your lap, unsure of where else to place them. Truthfully, you had to admit you were already much warmer like this, with his body heat enveloping you beneath both blankets.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked, his tone far gentler than it had been all evening. “Because that's not my intention.”

“No,” you answered with a light shake of your head. “You're not.”

He chuckled softly, his body shaking yours slightly with the movement. Your head turned towards him and you wished you could see at least the part of his face that was visible right now.

“Then why are you so tense?” he questioned.

“I'm not tense!” you lied.

He laughed again, this time louder. The movement jostled you somehow further into his side, though your hand flew out and landed flat on his very solid chest as you tried to stop yourself from falling further into him. Your eyes widened in horror yet again, but before you could push yourself away you felt his arm wrapping around your shoulders and allowing you to sink even more into him. Heat was very much creeping up your neck and reaching your cheeks now in embarrassment.

“You're very tense actually,” he teased. “If you're uncomfortable I can move, but we aren't going to be sharing much body heat if you don't actually sit next to me.”

Slowly you removed your hand from his chest, lowering it to your lap. Though with the way you were sitting facing partially towards him now, your knuckles were brushing against his thigh.

“I am not tense,” you grumbled. “And you aren't making me uncomfortable. This is just…awkward. I barely know you and you don't know me.”

“Okay,” he conceded. “How about since you've guessed a few things about me, I think it's only fair you tell me a few things about yourself now.”

“I told you I'm not very interesting,” you reminded him.

“Ah, well,” he replied with a shrug, “I think I'd like to decide that for myself.”

Biting your lip, you turned your burning face and buried it into his shoulder, glad he couldn't see how nervous he'd suddenly made you. It was hard to tell if he was flirting with you or if that was just his vigilante persona–when he wasn't beating people, of course.

With your nose pressed against the fabric of his shirt, you noticed he smelled surprisingly good. There was the hint of his sweat, but there was also a faint clean detergent scent. You closed your eyes and tried to relax, inhaling a deep breath in. Even though he was still a stranger and a vigilante, he seemed kind and safe so far. And he also hadn't thrown you off of himself for getting even closer to him, either. Maybe you should just do what he seemed to be doing: relax and enjoy the unexpected cuddles tonight with an unexpected acquaintance.

“Alright, what do you want to know?” you whispered, eyes still closed as you focused on his scent.

Eyes fluttering open, you felt yourself waking from a deep, comfortable sleep. Though your eyes instantly snapped closed against the bright light that immediately assaulted them. Slowly you blinked them back open, trying to adjust to the surprising sunshine pouring through your living room window. Gradually you began to push yourself upright, realizing you were laying with your head on a couch pillow, both of your blankets snuggly wrapped around you. For a moment your face twisted into a look of confusion as you hesitated, staring down at the two blankets. Why had you been asleep on your couch?

But then flashes of last night came back to you. The masked man falling onto your fire escape. The joking and constant banter between the pair of you. Darkness when the power went out and the feel of his warm, muscular body wrapped around yours as he tried to keep you warm. The scent of clean detergent and his sweat. The feel of his spandex shirt against your fingertips and your cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder.

Had that all really happened? Or had you just fallen asleep on your couch and dreamt it?

Your attention shifted towards your coffee table and your sluggish brain processed the sight of your almost empty mug of tea, left abandoned all night, and an empty glass of water. Pushing yourself the rest of the way upright on the couch, your head turned over your shoulder. The lock on your living room window was undone.

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen really had been in your apartment last night. Which meant the pair of you really had cuddled together for warmth when your power had gone out. And you really did meet him. At least, somewhat.

“Oh my God,” you breathed out in awe. “He was really here.”

But just as the rush of excitement at meeting someone you’d always secretly admired filled you, it quickly vanished. Because you must have fallen asleep on him sometime last night when the pair of you were talking, and then he must’ve slipped out of your apartment before the sun came up, probably when the power had come back on. Which made sense, considering he wouldn’t want to be seen sneaking back to his own apartment in such a conspicuous outfit.

But what was upsetting you was the growing realization that it wasn’t just the first time you’d met him, but it would most likely be the last. And you’d gone and fallen asleep through part of that meeting.

Stupid stupid stupid.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x you #matt murdock series #matt murdock #daredevil

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ann1eee · 1 month

Text

Shinazugawa Sanemi’s SFW+ NSFW Alphabet

Minors dni :)

A• Aftercare

Sanemi isn’t very vocal about his love for you, but that doesn’t mean he has no other way of showing it. He spends the time after sex to rub your back, run you a hot bath and shower you with kisses. He feeds you your favourite food after sex, and kisses your forehead. His favourite way to show his love is to run his fingers down your back and gently kiss your shoulders.

B• Bedroom attire

Sanemi loves when you wear his clothes to bed. Seeing you in one of his t shirts or even a formal shirt makes his blood rush down there. Bonus points if you aren’t wearing anything except his shirt, and smell just like him. He’ll be kissing you before you notice him. If you decide to wear lingerie to bed, he ends up ripping it in order to get it off you as quick as possible.

C• Capacity

Sanemi’s job requires him to reach the peak of his physical and mental abilities. That applies to the bedroom, as well. He has endless stamina, and enough strength to manhandle you however you wish, and try out any new position on your mind. He can go as long as you want, but usually decides to stop after round 5 or 6. That is if you can handle it.

D• D1ck!

Sanemi is a big boy, 6 inches soft and 7.5 fully hard. His base is medium brown, and a pink tip to match. His dick is mostly straight, a small curve downward. He cums a lot, and cums hard. He likes teasing you by wearing pants where his bulge is visible. Loves it when you sit on him.

E• Experience

You’re definitely his first. As a demon slayer, he doesn’t have time for frivolous relationships, sexual or not. But after developing those feelings for you, he can’t help but feel attached and rethink his lifestyle choices. If he’s your first, you both spend your nights softly giggling as you try new things together. If he’s not, you spend nights smirking as you teach him how to use his tongue, hands, face and dick;)

F• Favourite body part

Sanemi loves your ass and your hips. Doesn’t matter if you’re under him or on him, his hands will always be on your ass at least thrice. Nonetheless, seeing your cleavage in public makes his head feel light, and you spend the rest of your time asking him to wait till you get home.

G• Gifts

Sanemi often buys you gifts as a way of showing his appreciation and love for you, since he doesn’t do well with words. He tries his best to make you happy, whatever way he sees fit. He likes gifting you necklaces and clothes. His favourite colours on you are white and blue. If you ever gift him anything, he’d first be shocked at receiving it, but he’d treasure it more than anything he owns. He smiles softly as he thinks about it.

H• Hair Down There

Sanemi likes keeping himself groomed, not only for you but also himself. If you admit to liking his happy trail, he tries even harder to keep it the perfect length and shape. He doesn’t shave himself bald, neither does he let it grow too much.

I• Irritating!

Sanemi has a short temper. He’s almost always irritated by something or the other. Yet, he tries to control his anger around you, considering the type of household he grew up in (the last thing he wants is to do something around you that reminds him of his father around his mother) But, there are times he just can’t control himself, like if you were hurt when he wasn’t around to protect you. He’d definitely be the type to yell at you after he makes sure you’re alive and in one piece.

J• Jealousy

Sanemi is THE MOST jealous person you know, and he has no shame to hide it either. He’s not into pda too much, unless he sees a man even remotely shooting his shot with you. Cue Sanemi flinging his arm around your waist and staring daggers at the poor man, who awkwardly shuffles away. He makes sure to let you know that you are his, and he’s yours. If you’re the one getting jealous, he’s gonna be spending the whole time staring at you and smirking. He kisses you hard in front of everyone you think wants him.

K• Kiss Kiss!

Sanemi’s kisses are the most intense, and they leave you breathless for a good minute. He likes to wrap one arm around your waist, and the other holding your chin. His tongue roughly snakes into your mouth as he pulls you closer. Sometimes he pins you to a wall and wraps your legs around his waist to kiss you deeper.

L• Lewd

Sanemi is hesitant at first, but after a while of being with you, he shows off his lewd side both in bed and otherwise. He’s open to trying new things, and teases you about them the next morning. His favourite thing to do at home is have sex in different spots- kitchen counter, bathroom, sofa, or the training grounds in his mansion when no one else is around to catch you. He sneakily touches your ass or your chest out in public, or drags you to a secluded corner to make out. 10/10 freak

M• Masturbation

Before meeting you, Sanemi masturbated once or twice a week, just to keep healthy and let out the pent up frustrations. He’d much rather train than waste his energy and time on pleasuring himself. After meeting you, he masturbates maybe once a month, if he’s away from you on a mission. He thinks about the way you look while he fucked you, and the sweet sounds you make.

N• No!

Sanemi’s biggest turn off in the bedroom is pain. No matter how freaky you two get, he’ll never agree to do something to deliberately cause you pain, whether you like it or not. He goes rough, yes, but only what you can handle. He’ll never willingly hit you or make sex painful for you.

O• Oral?

Sanemi loves going down on you more than you going down on him. He likes to watch your face as your expression turns into one of pleasure, and he doesn’t stop until you’re in total and utter bliss. He goes down on you until you whine and blabber, and only once he thinks you’ve reached your breaking point will he fuck you.

P• Positions

Sanemi’s favourite position is doggy. He loves your ass, and he loves grabbing your hair as he hits it from behind. He’ll spank you and leave light red handprints on your ass every time you’re in doggy. His second favourite is when you ride him. He’s extra soft with you when you’re on top of him, and offers you neck kisses and hickeys as he guides your hips up and down.

Q• Questionable

Sanemi’s weirdest turn on is you being cockier than him and standing up to him. He is used to people being scared of him and running away from him, so he doesn’t expect any different from you. But when you actually stand up to him and show him you’re not scared of him, he finds it amusing. This carries on to your relationship, where you being cocky even as a joke gets him hot and bothered.

R• Rare

Something you don’t see often when it comes to Sanemi is him talking to you about his past and his family. He rarely ever opens up when it comes to his experiences, and deals with it mostly on his own. One time he beautifully braided your hair and when you asked him where he learnt to braid, he grew silent. After a few minutes of you looking at him expectantly, he told you about how he used to braid his little sisters’ hair back when they were younger. Your expression softened but he didn’t answer when you asked him more questions about his childhood. Slowly but surely, he starts to open up more about his past and you’re always there supporting and encouraging him to share his life with you.

S• Sex

Sex with Sanemi is passionate, rough, and leaves you sore and unable to walk for a few days. He’s always there for you after sex, and makes sure to give you lots of affection and care. You usually have sex once every other day, unless he’s back from a long mission- which means you’ll be going multiple rounds every day. He always makes sure you’re comfortable or up for it, and never ever forces you to do it if you’re not in the mood.

T• Tolerance

Sanemi is a heavyweight, but he almost never drinks. Drinking has been a negative thing for Sanemi ever since he was a little kid. Alcohol made his dad beat his mother and siblings, and he feels too much like his dad when he drinks. If you like drinking and insist on taking him out for drinks, he’ll agree but keep a count on the number of drinks he’s had. He doesn’t get drunk easily, and takes care of you when you do. He never does intimate things with you after you drink, even if you insist on it.

U• Uncomfortable

Something that makes Sanemi extremely uncomfortable is talking about his feelings and expressing himself through his words. He’s not very expressive that way, and if you’re expecting someone who showers you with words of love and affection, he’s not the one for you. He prefers showing his love through his actions and the way he treats you.

V• Vocal!

Sanemi absolutely loves it when you make sounds in bed. He loves knowing he has that much of an effect on you, and kisses your neck everytime you make a sound. He himself is not very vocal, he mostly groans and breathes loudly with his mouth. He doesn’t moan too loudly and doesn’t scream.

W• Wildcard

Sanemi loves leaving hickeys and marks all over your body. He likes the thought of making other people uncomfortable when they notice the marks on your neck and chest. He also loves it when you leave marks on him, making sure to widen his jacket even more and show them off to anyone who sees him. He smirks to himself and asks you to leave even more marks when he comes back home.

X/Y• Yuck!

Sanemi’s ick is someone who is completely casual about their life. He loathes people who have unserious attitudes about important things in their lives. He loves someone who is driven about their goals and plans. He finds hardwork extremely attractive.

Z• ZzZ

Sanemi sleeps extremely less. Being a demon slayer, he’s always busy on missions and has to stay vigilant at all times. He usually sleeps after a mission, for a few hours. He’s a light sleeper and is almost always exhausted due to lack of proper sleep. After you insisted on him getting more sleep, he complies but only sleeps well when you’re in his arms.

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instait · 1 year

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spitdrunken · 8 months

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i keep thinking about essentially being like. velvette's 'charity case' model and how your relationship develops from there.

notes: fem!reader, velvette calls you ugly LMAO, beyond that... no warnings, really. surprisingly the most healthy vee relationship ive written yet!

velvette's typical models all look similar, reminiscent of the modeling industry back when you were alive. tall, skinny and, more important than anything else, human-looking. most of them could pass for humans in a costume.

you… do not. you just didn't get quite that lucky with your demon form! really, you can say that the vast majority of people drew the short end of the stick, at least by the kind of standards that people like velvette set. maybe you're a bat, with a snout you've deemed as pig-like taking up most of your face. or a sheep, your single-slitted, dead eyes making even you uncomfortable. perhaps you're more formed after an object than what you would consider a person, or plant-like in nature! in any regards, due to the way lucifer chose to have you reborn you firmly do not fall within hell's beauty standards.

all of that means you were absolutely not expecting to be accepted when you went ahead and applied to a job with someone as famous and perfectionistic as velvette. it had started as a joke, really. you'd posted a purposefully horrible picture of yourself on vitter, with a stupid caption like; "do u think that :skull::heart: would kill me for submitting to open casting looking like this lmaooooo" (you have to use emojis to talk about the vees, as the socials owned by them are notorious for taking anything remotely negative down.)

and unexpectedly, your post randomly did some pretty big numbers, with people egging you on and some practically begging to tell you what kind of insults she would sling at your head. you saw some people copying your original as well.

so you're like! whatever!!! you don't think that you'd even get through the application process, much less velvette herself. nothing will end up happening, so, who cares? but then, somehow, despite everyone and their mom wanting to model for velvette, you get… through? and you even get an interview scheduled with velvette herself?

she takes one look at you as you walk in, and just goes: oh my god. this really is grim. and you're hardly seated, before she continues. look, i don't have the time for niceties, and introductions are entirely unnecessary. i'm sure you already know this, but you're not here because of your looks.

yeah. you figured that. …i guessed so. but i'm still sitting here. so, why?

instead of getting a real answer, you're shuffled off into a shoot, different outfits flashing on top of your body, faster than you blink, velvette's face settled into a scowl, till it suddenly lights up. it doesn't go… super well, you've never really done this and, if you had, velvette's attitude surely wouldn't help. you never really get clarity as to why you're being hired, when a contract is shoved in front of you.

(the reality of the situation is that velvette had seen you trending, not trending-trending, but still a noticable. she realised the demand for someone like you, a 'relatable' every-demon being thrust into this new world, and documenting it online. her company can claim they accept 'all kinds of demons', and some poor suckers will feel less excluded when looking at her fashion, buying it more quickly. win-win-win!)

she tells you to you're face that you're the ultimate challenge. if she can fix someone like you up to in a half-decent model, it just shows that she really is a fucking goddess. maybe you're not as pretty or as used to everything as the rest of the models, but that doesn't mean you don't put in any effort now that you're there. the other girls won't associate with you whatsoever, but you do listen in on their conversations, pretending to mess around on your phone, coming to know the kind of make-up velvette likes. you tirelessly browse online, mostly on vikvok and vitter, figuring out the current trends. and after a while, velvette takes a look at an outfit you picked, and actually says…

this is pretty decent. it won't look good on you, but i can use this. maybe, somewhere along the way, you become more of an assistant or outfit suggestor for velvette, only occasionally stopping in for shoots. velvette never accepted anyone in a similar position to you, even though vox tried her to get an assistant for ages, and she wouldn't have accepted you either if you'd obviously being vying for the position. but you weren't, and your position just kind of naturally developed that way.

your shtick as a 'charity case' has somewhat been abandoned, though velvette still dumps clothes in your arms sometimes and tells you to try them on. maybe you're one of the few people who gets her to laugh, and the only one who she freely bitches to about all of her models. (she does this to vox and valentino too, but it's not the same. they don't care as much, nor do they really know who she's talking about.) she lets you sort through some of the open casting applications and help pick out the theme for a shoot.

of course, absolutely everything you do has to go through velvette first, and she still criticizes you aplenty, but you can't help but feel she has grown… fond of you, in a sense? sometimes, you swear you see her wearing outfits you'd picked out for another model… and while she shittalks everything that moves, you just happened to listen in on her giving a model a tonguelashing for talking bad about you. either way, you've certainly come to like her a lot more. you're now even mutuals on vitter and vikvok! much to the delight of the tiny following you'd grown on there. she even posted a picture of the two of you on there! …that means you've really made it.

maybe at some point, when her company has hit a new milestone and, in a rare slip-up (or perhaps valentino gave her a super strong drink on purpose, thinking its funny) she gets pretty drunk. you end up sitting opposite of each other in a bar, with her having decided on the spot to put some make-up on you, leaning in close to check her work, fingers gliding slowly over your skin. a situation that feels entirely too intimate for this setting, not helped by the half-lidded look in your eyes. …i have changed my mind. she mumbles, slurring her words are little. you can look pretty, after all.

you sputter out a oh really, and you only realised that now?! in order to break the heaviness of the air, the unspoken tension that makes your heart skip a beat, and velvette laughs.

(maybe there's hope for the two of you yet.)

#hazbin hotel x reader #velvette x reader #hazbin hotel velvette x reader #hazbin hotel #velvette #cha.velvette

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muoroseowork · 6 months

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techactive · 6 months

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forever-rogue · 1 year

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So I have this idea for a peter x reader. basically reader is really quiet and shes friends with Peter. anyway, she develops feeling for him but doubts that he'll ever feel the same and tries to hide it as much as possible. eventually when Peter tells her his feelings she laughs and thinks it's a joke like "how would u like me?" and Peter slows down sadly and is like "why would u think I'm joking?" and ends with just fluffy fluffy confessions and comfort <3

AN | Oh yes, one of my favorite tropes, aka Peter Parker confesses his love but you’re not buying it❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d known Peter Parker for the latter part of twenty years.

You’d known that you were in love with him for the last five years. You were pretty sure you’d been in love with him much longer than that, but realization hadn’t dawned on you just yet.

The revelation had come to you out of the blue one evening when you were at home in your shared apartment, the two of you watching a movie. He didn’t even really do anything special, it just hit as you listened to him comment on random scenes throughout the movie. You were in love with him.

But just as quickly as you had your breakthrough, you decided to push it to the side, compartmentalized to the back of your mind to decay there. You might have been helplessly in love with him, enamored and enraptured by him, but you would never tell him.

There was absolutely no way that Peter would ever return your feelings, not even remotely. No, nope, nah. You were his best friend, and that’s all you would ever be. That was your destiny, and while you hated it, you hated the idea of a life without Peter even more.

So, like some kind of self professed martyr, you decided to live with your secret.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Are you even paying attention?” you weren’t, not until Peter was waving his hand in front of your face, but he didn’t need to know that. You turned your attention back to him and gave him a tight lipped smile and even weaker nod. He laughed, sugar sweet and syrupy, “you’re lying!”

“Am not,” you huffed petulantly, poking around the food that was on your plate. Admittedly you’d lost your appetite and zoned out when Peter started talking about Kim from work and how she’d asked him out again. He insisted that he’d turned her down, again, but it didn’t cause that nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach to go away, “I couldn’t listen to another word out of your mouth, Parker. The sound alone could put me right to sleep.”

“Oh honey,” he took a sip of his drink, leaning back in his chair as he appraised you. You felt warm under his intent gaze, avoiding his eyes as you practically stared holes into the table, “we both know that’s not true.”

“How?” you snapped your gaze back to him, and found the most satisfied little smirk on his face.

“You wouldn’t have been friends with me for so long if you really thought that,” he leaned forward and shot you a wink, which caused you to almost melt into a puddle, “right?”

“You’re the worst,” there was nothing but an affectionate lilt in your words, “the absolute worst.”

“But you love me,” you knew it was meant as a friendly comment but you felt like your heart had just plummeted into your stomach. Did he know? He couldn’t know.

“Whatever,” you took the cloth napkin off your lap and tossed onto the table. You were out at a nice restaurant, both of you dressed to the nines; it would have been easy to assume you were a couple on a date. The waiter had made a comment about what a lovely couple you were, “hurry up so we can get out of here and get home.”

Home. As in your singular home. That’s right; not only were you a fool, you were an absolute fool. One that lived with her best friend that she was secretly in love with. It made things…interesting. But, if anything, it was a good exercise in futility.

“Pajamas and ice cream?” he asked, as if it was really any question. At least one night a week included a lazy night in watching movies in pajamas and lots of ice cream. You loved that you were able to enjoy such simple things, along with the finer things.

“Duh,” you teased, “now come on, before someone mistakes for a couple again.”

“Would that really be such a bad thing?” there was a look of genuine curiosity in his eyes that almost made you spill your deep, dark secret then and there.

“Yes,” you lied, biting the inside of your cheek, “the worst!”

Peter said nothing but you could feel him watching you. You were afraid that somehow he would learn all your deepest, darkest secrets.

You hoped he wouldn’t…you weren’t sure how you’d survive that.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you woke up the next morning, it was to something that smelled extremely delicious. You groaned as you rolled onto your back, rubbing the last of the sleep from your eyes, stomach gurgling loudly. You slipped out of bed and pulled on a discarded hoodie - it used to be Peter’s but was now yours - and socks as you padded out into the hallway.

Noise was coming from the kitchen and your brow furrowed as you walked towards the commotion. Peter’s bedroom door was open which meant that it was definitely him that was the source of all the commotion. Odd. He was usually not an early riser.

“Pete?” a large vase of daffodils, tulips, and daisies sat on the small kitchen table. Your favorites. The boy was in the kitchen, in a t-shirt and gray joggers (damn him), and moved around to make sure everything was ready at the same time, “what’s all this?”

“Hey babe,” the pet name flowed from his lips like it was a no brainer, like this was all so natural between the two of you. You supposed, in a way, it was, “I’m making breakfast.”

“I can see that,” you raised an eyebrow and gestured around, “what’s the occasion?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged lightly, “just wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Peter, that’s…really sweet,” yeah. You weren’t even going to attempt to deny that much, “it looks and smells delicious. And the flowers-”

“Also for you,” this time a sheepish expression crossed his features along with a pretty pink blush, “I just thought you deserved something nice.”

“Is there…it’s not my birthday,” you mused out loud, “it’s not a holiday. So…am I missing something?”

“No,” he considered you for a moment before swallowing thickly, “I just…let me do something nice without the whole interrogation thing!”

“You’re Spider-Man, you should be used to interrogations.”

“Not from you!”

“Well, consider it practice.”

“No, listen, I-” he groaned lightly, swiping a hand over his face, messing up his already roguish hair, “I-I-I-”

“You can’t get all flustered!” you teased, “can’t let the enemy know you’re weak!”

“I’m not-”

“Petey,” you laughed softly, enjoying the little back and forth banter, “I’m just teasing. No need to get so worked up. Look, I’m going to go-”

“I’m in love with you.”

“And shower before breakfast,” the two of you spoke at the same time, but you heard each other loud and clear. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, feeling the heat rise up in your cheeks, flustered and wanting to disappear, “w-why would you say that?”

“What?” he looked confused. Your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest, “what do you mean?”

“I was just teasing you, but you don’t have to be cruel,” you felt tears already welling up as your lip trembled with effort to keep from crying, “why would you be so mean?”

“How? I don’t…what?”

“Why would you tease me and say you loved me?” despite your best efforts the tears had welled up and rolled down your face, “I was just messing around, but that’s…hurtful.”

“Wait - what do you mean?” a look of pure panic crossed his features as he shook his head, “why would I just say that? I would never say something like that if I didn’t mean it. Honey-”

“You don’t love me,” you threw up your hands in exasperation, “not like that. You’re my best friend!”

“You’re my best friend too,” he took a step closer and you took one back, “and I do love you as you my best, but you’re so much more than that. I’m in love with you.”

“You’re lying,” you insisted, unable to wrap your head around the fact that he might be telling the truth, “why would you be in love with me? I’m just…me.”

“That’s why I’m in love with you!” he wasn’t sure what your reaction was going to be, but he wasn’t fully expecting this one, “I’ve been in love with you for years! Have you really never noticed?”

“You’re just being a good friend,” were asking him or telling him? You weren’t entirely sure, “you don’t love me! You could never love me. I’m nothing.”

“You’re everything,” but you weren’t listening to him anymore. You were shaking your head, absentmindedly brushing your tears out of your face as you stumbled towards your bedroom.

“No, please just stop,” you insisted. You ducked into your bedroom and slammed the door shut before locking it. Realistically, if he really wanted to get in it would have been a breeze for him.

He called your name a few more times before you heard his retreating footsteps go back to the kitchen. All you could think to do was to climb into bed and get under the covers. Dealing with anything - what he had said and what you had said - seemed like the last thing you wanted to think about.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

At some point you woke up from the stress and sadness nap you had taken and found that the sun was shining brightly into the room. You looked at your phone with a groan when you saw that it was the middle of the afternoon.

Hesitantly you dragged yourself out of bed, again, and slinked towards the door, sticking your ear to it and listening for any signs of life, also known as Peter Benjamin Parker. This would be one of the times it would have been handy to have his enhanced senses, but even with your regular old human abilities, you were sure he wasn’t home.

With a sigh of relief you opened the door and walked back into the crime scene; the kitchen looked exactly as it had when you’d found Peter in it earlier. He must have left to give you space after your little - okay big - freak out. He’d always been good with boundaries and giving you space when needed.

Part of you almost wished he was here. The flowers on the table were almost taunting you, and you walked over to them, gently touching over their petals. Of course he knew your favorite flowers, he got them for you…kind of a lot now that you were thinking about it. He knew you inside out, better than anyone else, and sometimes you were convinced that he knew you better than you knew yourself.

You stepped into the kitchen and started to clean things up, putting dishes in the sink and other stuff away. The thought that Peter had touched each and everyone of these things provided a sense of relief.

Peter often did these sorts of things. He doted on you, you would absolutely admit this, but you’d always chalked it up to his friendly nature. But then…he wasn’t like this with his other friends. He was openly affectionate, yes, but with you it was different. You thought about the fact that he never went on dates with anyone - he would always turn them down, including Kim from work. The few times you’d gone on a date he always seemed upset, even if he tried to suggest otherwise. Huh.

People often asked if the two of you were dating, but you always gave them the same answer: platonic friends with a capital P. It sucked sometimes, especially when you knew that women, and men, practically threw themselves at Peter.

You thought back on all the things he did for you, all the days, nights, and weekends you’d spent together through the years and oh. Oh.

“Oh,” you whispered the singular word out loud to yourself, halfway through washing a plate when it hit you.

Peter hadn’t been lying; he was telling you the truth. The truth had been so obvious and right in front of you the entire time.

You wanted to curl up and vanish. Not only had you accused him of lying and only loving you as a friend, you’d run out on him and refused to talk to him like a stubborn child. All you could do was hope that you hadn’t ruined everything.

When you were finished cleaning up the mess from earlier, you made a mental plan. Maybe he wouldn’t believe you or forgive you, but it was worth a shot like a sort of romantic hail mary.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Peter spent the better part of the day out of the apartment, opting to go and work in his office. His mind was reeling and the only way he could think to get it to quiet down was to throw himself into his work. He hoped that by the time he got home you would be willing to talk to him, or at the very least you wouldn’t run from him.

Needless to say, he wasn’t expecting you to be in the kitchen making dinner as you sang along to whatever record you threw on the vintage player. You’d gifted it to him a few years ago on his birthday after you’d seen him eyeing it about a hundred times. It was just one of the many ways you showed him love. He’d fallen even more in love that day.

“Hello?” he asked timidly as he kicked off his sneakers by the door. On the table next to the flowers he’d gotten for you, was another vase, this one filled with daisies and sunflowers; his favorites…because they reminded him of you.

At the sound of his voice you slowly turned around, bracing yourself for about a million different possibilities.

“Hi Pete,” you held up your hands in a meek little wave, feeling your flush furiously, “listen-”

“I’m sorry,” the two of you said at the same time.

“W-wait,” a pretty pout settled on your lips. He wanted to kiss you until it went away and was replaced with a smile, “what are you sorry for?”

“For making you uncomfortable,” he shrugged nervously, “I didn’t think what I said would come across so…like it did. I thought you knew, or at least kind of knew, how I felt. I thought maybe you felt the same and it was finally time to tell you. That didn’t land well obviously.”

“Peter,” whenever you said his name like that it made him want to melt into a puddle.

There were a million things you wanted to say, but couldn’t think of anything. Nothing seemed quite adequate or strong enough to convey the amount of love you held for the man in front of you.

You walked the few remaining steps over and stopped right in front of him, both of you staring at each other intensely.

You reached up to touch his face, your hand resting on his cheek. You leaned up and closed the little bit of remaining distance, pressing your lips against his. It only took a moment for his brain to catch up to what was happening, and when he did, his hands settled on your waist, and pulled you ever closer into his body.

Kissing Peter left so natural, so right, like you’d been doing it forever. There was no learning curve - the two of you already know each other so well - no awkward fumbling or misses. It just…was.

And kissing him was addicting. Now that you knew what it was like, you never wanted to stop. You wanted him all over you, all the time, forever.

But eventually you needed a breath of air and reluctantly pulled apart. You found him watching you like you were the most wonderful thing he had ever seen (you were).

“I’ve been in love with you for a very, very long time,” you admitted softly, causing his eyes to lit up, “I just never thought…you’ve always been my best friend and I was convinced you’d never want more. So I never said anything.”

“I’ve always wanted more - I want everything,” he took your face in his hands, cradling it delicately as he studied, “it’s always been you.”

“I thought that I was just me, and I’d never be good enough for you. And then I thought maybe you found out how I felt and you were teasing me,” it seemed really silly saying it out loud.

“I would never do that,” you knew he wouldn’t. Your own self doubt had you convinced of all the wrong things, “I meant it all. I’ve always meant it.”

“I thought about it while you were gone,” it was a soft confession that had you giving him a shy smile, “and I realized it was always so obvious.”

“It’s been terribly obvious,” he agreed as you exchanged soft laughs.

“Terribly,” you agreed, “will you forgive me for how I acted earlier?”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” he insisted, sweet and saccharine, “can I kiss you more?”

“I would-”

Before you could finish what you were saying, you smelt something burning and turned around to find your pain on fire. You panicked while Peter fell into action, taking the pan off and setting it in the sink before getting the fire out. It was just one of the many ways in which you complimented each other perfectly.

“Anyway, you were saying?” He had the biggest, silliest smile on his face as the kitchen filled with the smell of burnt food. You couldn’t help but break into a fit of giggles at the absurdity of it all...and then the smoke alarm went off.

“You can kiss me anytime,” you finally got to say what you had wanted to, shouting slightly over the alarm before the two of you dissolved into laughter, “I love you, Peter Parker. Really.”

“I really love you, honey bee.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x you #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x reader #andrew!peter parker x reader #andrew!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker x reader

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