#and he gets SO judgemental bout it

[eupheme]

— on the fence [into the fire, part ii]

part i | masterlist

cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader

rated e - 3.8k

tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, pwp, restraints, sex for favors, oral (m), exhibitionism, spanking, biting, hair pulling, light choking, sub/dom elements, PiV, irradiated creampie

a/n: hi! I had a couple ideas I wanted to explore, which turned into a mini-series. I have them all mapped out & I hope to have them up for you soon! 💖

“Why don’t you show me again,” He husks, “What you’re so good at.”

Your breath catches - eyes flicking warily towards the door, but he’s quick to call you back.

“Hey, now. Eyes over here.” The Ghoul snaps, “You need to worry ‘bout me more than anyone out there.”

(Or - the Ghoul gets you out of your Vault Suit.)

You’re not sure you like the look of this town.

It sprawls wide and low across the desert, the inhabitants gathering in the shadows to escape glare of the sun. A low buzzing murmur that carries with you through the streets.

It feels suffocating, after the open miles before.

Following the dark figure of Ghoul, as you wind through the streets. Partly because you have to - that leash still pulled tight, wrapped around a fist.

Partly because you want to stick close, always.

“-don’t need you slowing me down.” The Ghoul gives the rope a yank, and you scowl, “You get hurt doing some stupid shit, and I’m leavin’ you behind.”

Your frown softens. His words still just as harsh, snarled out. But they’re a far cry from before.

Before, when you were certain he was going to hand you right back over to your Vault, in spite of how far you’ve come. Something significant passing in the journey through the desert, as he had taken what you wanted.

The taste of him has since faded, but he still lingers.

“Gotta earn your keep, too.” His head turns, eyeing you from beneath the brim of hat, “You good at anythin’?”

Unable to help it, you smirk - a brow raising. He scoffs in response, eyes narrowing.

“Anyone can be good at suckin’ cock, sweetheart.” He drawls, unimpressed, “’m not so bad at it, myself.”

Your lips part in surprise and he’s the one that grins, now.

The Ghoul picks up another bounty here. A shady, alley-way deal - keeping you close to his heels as he snatches the faded paper contact off a tattered board.

Running into another pair looking for jobs - a fresh scar splitting across the nose of a man who tries to start a conversation, before quickly retreating.

“Fuckin’ amateurs” muttered in reply to your heavy, silent judgement.

The client is tracked down for more information, after. Wasn’t hard to find the man with cage over the lower half of his face. Spikes that scream Raider with the way they jut through his clothes.

Fifty caps for the “goddamn no-good thief” that wiped out his stall in the night, taking every last bullet and can of cram. Last seen about two days ago, heading north.

Dead or alive, the client doesn’t care.

“Did you see ‘em?” The Ghoul frowns, “What they look like? Give me somethin’ to go off of.”

“Course I did,” The man huffs, “Looks just like me, don’t he? He’s my own damn brother.”

You can’t contain your own sideways look in disbelief, only to see The Ghoul returning it.

He bargains for a hundred, and gets it.

It’s hard not to wonder if he had taken your bounty this way. If your face had been scrawled across a piece of paper. Exchanged in a no-nonsense, disconnected way.

How much had your life been worth?

You never asked him. It’s something you’re not sure you even want to know.

The rest of the afternoon is spent stocking up. Caps exchanged for some more ammo. A couple bottles of watery chems, shoved deep in his bag to join the others.

A way the ease the cough that rattles him every few days. The smallest bottle kept out, wrenched open with a tight fist.

It snags at you - the way he swallows it like ambrosia the second he steps away. Gasping and groaning as if it’s air he needs to breathe.

“I’m good at medicine,” You tell his back - following again. Memories of the Vault pushing their way to the surface, “Could make that for you, if we find the stuff. Wouldn’t have to dilute it.” You almost run into him, with the way he’s gone still. The tilt of his head, a single sharp eye piercing through you under the brim of a hat.

Shifting over your shoulder. Narrowing.

His hand fists in the collar of your jumpsuit instead, hauling you down the nearest alley and into the shadows.

“Hey!” You protest, your back knocked against the wall. He cages you in, knuckles pressing into your jaw with his tight grip.

The vial is pinched between his fingers, dangled in front of your face.

“You can make this?” He confirms.

You’re able to confirm it now, never quite getting a good look before. RadAway. It would be simple, compared to some of the stuff you’d had to cook up.

“Get me to a lab, some supplies,” You nod, “And I will.”

“Huh.” He’s close - you can’t help squirming in his grip, as he considers you, “Ain’t that something.”

A second, before his grip eases - but he doesn’t let go. Your bound fists rest against his chest, but there’s no force behind them to drive him off.

“Could’ve just asked.” You huff, “You don’t have to man-handle me.”

He almost smiles - his voice coming low, with a tilt of his head.

“Don’t I?”

It flusters you, how his body presses against yours. Your heartbeat kicking up a notch, your chest brushing his with each short breath.

His thumb sweeps, ghosting against your skin. Those sunken eyes dropping to your collar, with a frown.

Another glance down the aisle, before they’re dragging over you - voice lowering.

“Need to get you out of this suit.”

His words make stiffen in his arms, a sharp inhale of anticipation.

“Not so smart, are you?” He husks, his gaze dragging from your parted lips, up to your eyes, “Runnin’ around like this. Downright advertising you’re a Vaultie, when someone’s lookin’ for you.”

He’s not wrong. He tracked you down easily enough. You nod is small, a pang of regret as his fingers drop - as he steps away.

“Come on, then. I know a place.”

The place is an old saloon, the windows blasted out over two centuries ago. The gutted insides filled out with a patched-up bar, the mended tables and scattered chairs filled with patrons. Rooms to rent lining the first - and second floor - if you were brave enough to risk the staircase.

A few stalls set up alongside a wall - a barber ran by a Mister Handy with a looping stutter, the second by another Ghoul. Her few racks are filled with a patchwork of fabric, all in stained and faded patterns.

He gestures, a tilt of his head at the racks, “Pick something out, quick like.”

You’d gape at him, if you weren’t afraid he’d change his mind. Serious about your suit - you’re quick to grab a shirt in your size with only two holes. A pair of trousers, a rip at the knee.

“This ain’t for you.” The Ghoul clarifies darkly in your ear, “This is a trigger-happy town. Don’t need to be wasting my bullets.”

You hum in agreement - undeterred by his tone. The package clutched to your chest as he hands over a couple caps. Stuck over a full two weeks now in the same suit - you’re itching for the soft cotton against the skin.

Turning to leave, but then you’re halting. A couple of the patrons look familiar, hovering just inside the door. Something about that scar-

You’re trying to recall, in the crowd of people you’ve seen today - when a hand clamps down on your shoulder. Wheeling you around as the Ghoul turns to the shop owner.

“You got a room she can borrow?” There’s a change in his tone, almost a sticky-sweet edge to his drawl.

It must work - you’re shown to what used to be an old parlor room. An array of broken chairs, a heavy wooden table. The wallpaper torn and faded, the shades of cream long stained a dull, dirty yellow.

He fills the doorway - an arm propped against the frame, and you hold your wrists out to him dutifully.

You’ve worked at the knots before, to no avail - only to scowl now, as he undoes them easily with one hand.

A moment of silence hanging then, as you give him a pointed look - rubbing at sore wrists.

“You gonna leave so I can change?” You ask, “I’ll just be a second.”

The Ghoul steps forward instead, pulling the door shut behind him. An audible click, as he thumbs at the lock.

“Oh, I don’t think so, darlin’.”

A heat flares to life in your cheeks, “You’re staying?”

“That’s right,” He sinks into an old loveseat, propped up on concrete blocks near the boarded-up window, “Can’t leave you alone in a place like this. Fuckin’ vultures would swoop right in.”

You hesitate, watching him warily as an arm slings across the back, legs stretched out against the floor. If you didn’t know better then you think it was something almost akin to concern in his tone.

Or then again - he might just want to keep your bounty to himself. You had hoped you were past that, but-

“What?” His tongue pokes at his cheek, tone taunting, “Gettin’ shy again?”

The clothes are dropped unceremoniously on the table, your Pip-Boy following. A glare, as you reach for the zipper of your Vault Suit, starting to yank it down.

“Hey, now.” His hand raises, “Slowly. Got it?”

There’s an immediate urge to resist, to test him - but then, you’re catching the look on his face.

It’s hungry, beneath the brim of his hat. You start to feel like you did in the desert, and then the alley - intrigue, and desire, and an ache from his words, all melding together.

So, you take it slow. The zipper slipping from your throat, to breasts, then belly. A roll of your shoulders as you slip your arms from the tight sleeves.

His eyes follow, lingering on each inch of bare skin that’s revealed.

“Turn around.” He growls when you reach your hips, and for him - you do.

Bending at the waist as you unlace your boots and step out of them. Back arched as you wiggle, pushing the suit down past your knees. Down soft legs that part, so you can step out of them.

A glance over your shoulder, then. His head tilts, eyes sweeping from your ankles to fix on the crux of your thighs. They press together on their own, a thrill at being on display for him.

He catches you looking, his hand lazy as it drops to his lap. A lift of his hips as he adjusts, palming himself. The other hand leaving the revolver shotgun that rests on the cushion next to him.

Crooking two fingers at you, silently beckoning you over.

You fit between thighs that inch wider. His hands curl on his lap, before he’s slowly peeling his gloves off. Warm, against your hips, biting into your skin.

“Don’t make ‘em like you above ground anymore,” He idly comments, a flatness to his tone that betrays nothing.

Soft and smooth skin. You wonder if he’s thinking about ruining it - sinking his teeth in and taking a bite. Leaving a mark that you’ll carry.

You think you’d let him.

His grip dents your skin, before his hands are dropping. A heated look thrown your way, as his face tips up to yours.

“Why don’t you show me again,” He husks, “What you’re so good at.”

Your breath catches - eyes flicking warily towards the door, but he’s quick to call you back.

“Hey, now. Eyes over here.” The Ghoul snaps, “You need to worry ‘bout me more than anyone out there.”

It sends a heat rushing through you, knowing that he’s right. You’re locked in a room with the most dangerous man in the city, and it does something to you.

A boldness, in the way you reach behind. His growled out “fuck” when you let bra loosens - joining the blue and yellow suit on the floor.

The wood is rough under your knees. Letting your hands wander, lifting his hips while your work open his belt. Drawing down the rusted zipper.

You grasp at his hips, tugging the faded fabric until he’s free. Fingers tracing over thighs, just as rough and reddened at the rest of him. It’s still not much, but it’s more of him than you’ve ever seen.

Bare beneath the stained pants, cock already thick and full where it curves against his hip. All from just watching you - perhaps a strange thing to be proud of, but fuck, you are.

Your hands curl around his knees, as your head dips. Taking more time than you did before. Lips pressing against the taut base, as a hand twists in your hair again.

“Come on and thank me, sweetheart.” He growls - urging you upward, “Gettin’ those clothes for you. Make it worth my while.”

It’s different this time. A familiarity in the way your tongue presses against the flushed head. The taste of the salt on your tongue, before your lips are part around him.

A soft groan, when he’s filling your mouth again. You’ve thought about it often since last time. Wondering when he would have you on your knees again. If he’d want more, the next.

Your heartbeat thuds between your thighs, with the shift of his hips into your mouth - chasing his pleasure.

An urge to make him feel good. Without thinking - your hand wraps around his shaft, as your head eases back.

“Easy, now.” He grits, though his eyes are fixed on how your fingers curl around him. How it pumps, squeezing him with spit-slick fingers.

Jerking him into a mouth that parts so prettily for him. Your other hand slipping against his thigh, with feather-light brushes. A short inhale before you take him deep again, your fist sliding down to the base.

The next time you pull him from mouth for a breath, drool stringing from his cock to your lips, he hears himself growling out, “Stop.”

You’re being too tender, and he finds that he can’t stand it. Should have kept you bound, like last time.

The Ghoul’s fingers bite into your chin, your mouth glossy from how you swallowed him down.

“I’m taking you this time. Know you’ve been just aching for it.” He husks, his thumb pressing against your lip. Watching your tongue peek out to taste it, “Go on. Get up, and get your ass over to that table.”

Your desire nearly eclipses everything else. Pushing on his thighs for support, crossing the three steps to the side of the table.

“No,” He follows - the gun clattering on the table top, brought over from the couch. His hands at your hips, guiding you until you’re facing the door, “Right here, sweetheart. I’ll be keepin’ watch.”

It has you remembering where you are - that you’re just supposed to be getting changed. Wondering if you should worry that you don’t care - the thought of piping up, having the risk of losing this chance and denying pleasure again has you quickly adapting.

A hand presses at the small of your back insistently, bending you over it. You can feel him against the curve of your ass, sticky against your skin.

“Cross your wrists,” His thighs shift against yours, as you fix your hands that has flattened against the tabletop.

Making it easy for him to grasp at them with one hand - stretching them further, pressing them against the wood as he kicks your thighs further apart.

Leaving you on tip-toe, arched against him.

“Look at you, listening.” He almost coos, with another lazy rock. His cock shifts, fitting between your thighs, nudging against you.

“I think-” You start, but it’s punctuated by a moan, “Think you just like tying girls up.”

“Now you’re gettin’ it,” He drawls, “Though I don’t discriminate. Theres just something ‘bout havin’ you like this-”

The Ghoul leans over you then, his grip tightening. Pinning you firmly between him and the table, unable to do more than squirm as his free hand slips between your thighs, cupping you.

It’s the first time he’s touched you like this, and your muscles string tight - trying not to buck into his palm. Against fingers that rub against your clit, pressing the sticky fabric to your skin.

“Fuck.” He rasps in your ear. Nails bite into your hips, as he tears the fabric down to your thighs.

Coming back to press against your bare cunt, fingers slipping against your folds. You’re unable to help the soft whimper as he parts you, two fingers teasing at your entrance.

“Please,” You whine, as he pets against you. Smearing your slick up to your clit again, his fingers parting just as he reaches it.

His cock presses against your leg, thick and stiff. A roll of his hips until it’s pressed snug against your cunt - jutting between your thighs just below his hand.

“Your pussy is downright leakin for me, sweetheart,” He growls, “You need it that bad?”

You whine, your head turning to look - watching how he arcs over you. That blown-wide look in his eyes again, as you nod.

There’s a split second as his hand leaves you, before it’s cracking down on the meat of your ass. You gasp in shock as you go still beneath him, the pain unexpected and swirling with your heady need.

“Say it out loud,” He barks out, “Tell me just how much.”

Your skin stings, his fingers twitch before he kneads roughly at the flesh - the burn of it akin to way you ache for him.

“I need it,” You keen, “Need your cock. Want you to fuck me-”

The words cut off - a rough hum of approval before he’s lining himself up, a hand curving to grip your hip. The other flexes around your wrist, before he’s driving himself deep with a single, powerful thrust.

Your cry is loud, this time. Low and rough, pushed from your lungs as your pussy makes room for him.

“Fucking christ, you’re tight,” He grunts, unable to help the shallow buck of his hips, “Better than my goddamn dreams.”

It makes you moan - the gritted-out admission not lost on you.

Even with how wet you are, you still feel like you’re stretched wide. An ache radiating through you, sparking to life as he inches out, only to plunge deep again. The table bites into your hips, back arching as he sets a rough rhythm.

The sharp twinge starting to fade, as you begin to accommodate him. Growing accustomed to the heavy weight of him inside you, the steady stroke against your walls that has you starting to clench down around him.

Your breathing grows shorter, faster. Face turning to bury in the curve of your shoulder, muffling the moans that are pushed from you - until his hand is leaving your hip, twisting in your hair with a sharp tug.

Forcing your head back, his grip anchoring you.

“Don’t think so, darlin’. Know you saw those eyes on you,” He’s lost the steady edge to his voice, words turning rough, “Go on, be loud.”

The Ghoul’s hips pound harder, the rough texture of his cock stroking deep. Each sending a current through you, leaving your fingers and toes flexing, aching for just a little bit more.

“Saw you come in with me. Show ‘em who you belong to.”

“Fuck!” You cry, wishing you had a name to scream. Unable to muffle your ragged breath, the moans he pulls from you.

It fills the room, melding with the slick punch of his cock into your wet and needy cunt. Better than before, because his hands are on you now - leaving your hair, blunt nails dragging down your back. Ghosting across your hip, where your skin presses into the wood.

“Touch me.” You beg, again, “Let me touch myself, I can’t-”

His hand withdraws, and you whine - backpedaling. Afraid that he’s going to pull from you, finish himself across your back or your ass for asking.

“Please. Fuck, please. Don’t, I’m so close-”

He groans at your plea through clenched teeth.

Releasing his grip on you, only for his hand to slide to the base of your throat. His other arm looping beneath you as he hauls you against him, flattening against your ribs.

Palming at a soft breast, as you’re pulled up and pressed flushed to his chest.

“Listen to you, miss manners,” He grins - teeth bared, “That’s more like it, honey.”

The bandolier cuts into your skin, the wood into your thighs. And change in the angle that has your cries growing louder as his cock pounds against a soft spot inside you. Warm breath ghosting against your neck, deep rumbling growls in your ear.

Everything fades, growing hazy. His fingers tighten, but not enough to fully choke the air from you. An implication - your own hands wrapping around his wrist to anchor yourself to him. 

You can hear him inhale you, the scrape of teeth against your skin above the heavy press of his fingers. Salvation in the way the hand splayed beneath your chest drifts lower, his voice smooth in your ear.

“This is for listening,” He husks, “You understand?”

Relentless, when his fingers press against your clit. Slick and circling until you’re grinding into his touch, meeting the hard slap of his hips.

The gasping chant of “fuck, fuckfuckfuck,  please-” turning into mindless whimpers, his rough rhythm growing sloppy.

“Goddamn, you feel good.” It’s a ragged sigh, “Feel your tight little cunt squeezing me. Gonna make a mess, sweetheart?”

It sounds muted, layering with a ringing white noise. Your nails bite into his wrists as the swiftly building tides breaks. Almost missing the sweet growl in your ear.

“Let them hear how a pretty thing like you sounds coming on a cock like mine.”

You do, with the next swirl of his rough fingers - the sound broken as he rips it from you.

Bearing down around the cock that fits so deeply into you, with each blissful pulse of your release. Forgetting about the rest - about the outside world - as your nerves alight with pleasure.

His hand drops from your throat to brace against the table. Bending you flat again as he feels you flutter and gush around his length, crushing you against the top as blunt teeth close against the pulse point of your throat, biting down.

The sounds of his own orgasm muffled - a ragged groan as his cock throbs, as he fucks himself deep into you. Tasting the salt of your skin as you yelp, clenching around him - milking him until your walls are coated with his spend.

He hadn’t meant to - but the urge to pull from you had wavered the moment he buried himself in your cunt. Abandoned completely, after feeling you come so sweetly around him. An instinct lingers even now - to enjoy the soft press of your body against his, your warmth.

You shiver as his lips brush your neck, the closest thing to an apology as you’ll get - before he’s pulling away from you, leaving you clenching and empty.

A ragged hand slips between your thighs as you prop yourself up on your elbows, catching your breath. Pleasure still radiating from your core as fingertips swipe through the come that is just starting to leak from you.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” He laughs - the sound ragged, with a flash of yellowed teeth.

“Guess this means you better start cookin’.”

The Vault Suit is left beneath the table, a crumpled up reminder that you’re happy to leave behind.

Your cheeks burn as you leave the saloon - the strangers from before cleared out. A definite wobble to your steps - something that The Ghoul certainly notices, the low tilt of his hat hiding the curling pull of his lips.

Outlining the path towards the next bounty as you find your way out, guessing where you might find a lab along the way.

And it’s only as the city starts to fade, that you realize -

He never bound your wrists again, after.

I have the brainrot for this man for sure! Thank you for stopping by & reading 💖 (and I have also been reading so much about the new chem the Ghoul takes! For plot & smut reasons - I am going with RadAway, haha)

[sebastiansluts]

How about reverse cowgirl with Bucky but you are completely on top of him, and him hooking his arm under your leg and thrusting into your kitty so hard yet he decides to be a little mean by putting 2 of his vibranium fingers inside you while his cock still inside and hooking it so they hit your g-spot perfectly that it makes you squirt everytime he hits it

I believe you'll be the perfect writer to write that kind of sfuff, Rosie!

Bucky Barnes x Reader; vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, squirting,

ANY HATE WILL BE DELETED THIS IS A JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE DON'T LIKE, DON'T INTERACT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+

You and Bucky were on the bed, and you were sitting on top of him, backwards, facing his legs, slowly sinking down on his dick. You breathed heavily, your hands planted on his calves, your legs tucked under you and still you felt shaky and off-balance.

"B-Bucky, I'm gonna fall," you whimpered, his big cock stretching you and it was only halfway in. His hands were firm on your hips, and he squeezed them, the vibranium shifting in his arm and making you squeak.

"Doll, you're not goin' anywhere," Bucky muttered, and pulled you down farther on his dick, making you take the stretch and pain until you were gasping with pleasure, his tip hitting that special spot inside you.

You panted as you adjusted, slowly walking your hands up his firm, thick thighs, until you pushed yourself upright, sat on top of him. Bucky kneaded your hips again, before sliding his mismatched hands up your sides, smoothing over your arms, until he had a firm grip on your upper arms.

"C'mon baby, I told ya, you're not goin' anywhere," Bucky said, pulling you down until you started falling, then he stopped you, controlling your descent, getting you resting on top of him completely.

"Fuck...Bucky don't slip out," you whined as he shifted, propping his feet on the mattress, yours still folded at his sides. He reached down, vibranium and flesh grabbing your calves and lifting you as you squeaked until your legs were folded up by your head.

"You still worried 'bout me slippin' out?" Bucky chuckled, draping your legs over his arms, the vibranium shifting beneath you making you shiver.

Bucky started thrusting, gently at first, teasing you with it before he suddenly started putting more power behind his thrusts, grunts and whimpers leaving you as his big cock stretched you again and again.

"How 'bout now doll, think 'm still gonna 'let you fall' or 'slip out' or some other silly nonsense?" Bucky was relentless with both his words and his thrusts, fucking you so hard you knew you were going to be bruised and swollen.

"No Bucky! I trust you!" you cried out, and his hips stuttered for a moment before regaining their steady, almost too much, powerful rhythm.

"Yeah? You trust me baby? So fuckin' sweet of ya, can't stand it doll. You're too good to me, so I'm gonna be too good to you."

Your eyes widened, staring up at the ceiling in shock as Bucky reached his vibranium hand over and slid a finger in beside his cock. You clenched hard, breath punched out of you, the sting back and intense, nearly bringing tears to your eyes, but Bucky kept moving, sliding his cock in and out of your hole while he kept his finger still.

You groaned, forced to take him like he wanted, literally held into position. "Bucky...fuck, it's s'much," you panted, moaning as he rubbed a second finger against where his cock was pressing deep inside your cunt.

"Aww, havin' trouble doll? S'it too much? No, never too much for my baby," Bucky praised as he pressed his second finger in beside the other, his cock pushing back deep into you.

Your mouth dropped open, your head fallen back on Bucky's shoulder as his vibranium fingers flexed inside you before hooking on your spot, pressing hard just as his dick plunged deep.

You gasped as pressure built inside you and released, liquid squirting out of you above Bucky's dick even as he pulled back partway. "Bucky!" you cried, and he groaned loudly, fucking you hard again, fingers pressing that spot and you felt that release again. You squirted again, to Bucky's absolute delight.

"Jesus Christ doll, that's fuckin' it, soak me baby, drench me, c'mon you can do it," he goaded, every other word punctuated with a thrust and a push of his fingers which set you off, squirting all over Bucky and the bed.

Your mouth was hanging open, your eyes rolled back in your head and still you were coming, body and thighs shaking as you tried to hold on to yourself.

Bucky wouldn't stop making you squirt, but his thrusts were getting sloppier the closer he came to coming. There was a puddle forming on the bed beneath you two, as Bucky lifted his hips repeatedly, forcing you to take everything.

Your back arched as you came dry, spasming around Bucky's dick and clenching tight enough to trigger his orgasm. He came inside you with a pulse and a groan. He pulled his fingers free and buried his cock deep inside you, holding you down against him.

"Take it all baby, everything I give ya," Bucky groaned, and you just whimpered, overstimulated and exhausted, body twitching as he emptied himself inside you, then let your legs drop to the bed.

"Good fuckin' girl," he praised, stroking your still trembling thighs, smoothing over your sensitive cunt and making you jump. "I think this might be a new go-to position, hmm?"

You moaned, already imagining how much he'd make you come and squirt and ruin the bed further. "Yeah doll, get ready for round two."

[dixons-sunshine]

The Archer's Girl | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When the world ended, you and Daryl narrowly escaped the clutches of the dead and found yourselves in a quarry camp with Merle and some other people. Unwanted, someone in the camp takes a weird liking and disliking to you, and it made you extremely uncomfortable. Luckily, Daryl was there to stand up for you.

Genre: Fluff, some angst.

Era: Outbreak day; The Quarry.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU but can be read as a standalone.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of morning sickness.

Word count: 4.4k.

A/n: Damn, I love when two requests correspond with each other and I can get them both into one fic. It's my favourite thing in the whole world. However, I feel like Daryl is kinda ooc in this, but I tried to imagine how he'd be with a woman he just met at the quarry and started forming a relationship with vs how he'd be with someone he's been with since he was a teenager, and in my mind, he'd totally be softer regarding someone he already knows and loves vs one he's just getting to know. So soft!Daryl in this, it is! Also, Carol is being a supportive queen in this because @celtic-crossbow's Blood Ties series has made me appreciate Carol more and made me realize that she would always be so supportive of someone who's pregnant. Anyways, I hope you like this!

(specially dedicated to @mydearestdaryl because we planned this fic in my comment section a while ago and I'm only getting to it now.)

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Daryl!” you called out, trying to push past the stampede of people trying to hurriedly evacuate the store you were in. You were abruptly shoved into one of the shelves, a sharp pain shooting up your side. A loud curse escaped your lips as you clutched your side.

Barely one minute ago, you had strayed from Daryl's side to go grab some milk. You had told him that you would be right back, but with all the chaos that suddenly unfolded in front of you, you highly regretted leaving him at all. With everything going to hell, you could be separated from the man you loved. That thought terrified you.

However, as you turned around, nothing terrified you more than the sight that beheld you.

On the floor, a woman was screaming in pure, unadulterated agony. On top of her was a man who's body appeared to be decaying, and he ripped a huge chunk of her flesh from her chest. His grimy hands were clawing at her stomach, and with little to no effort, he tore her stomach open. The sight was truly mortifying, and it would never be erased from your mind.

A hand grabbed your wrist from behind. You flinched and tried to rip your hand from the person's grip, but the familiar voice of your husband calmed you down. However, when you looked at him, you were surprised to note the splatter of dark blood all over his clothes and face.

“S'me! S'jus' me!” he hurriedly explained. He cast one glance to the horrific sight before you before dragging you along with him, the two of you moving quickly. He stopped momentarily in front of one of the shelves to grab two knives, carefully pushing one of them into your hold. “Ya see one'a these dead motherfuckers, ya stab 'em in the head, alrigh'? S'the only way they drop dead.”

“What? I don't—”

“Dun' think 'bout it, peach!” he cut you off, pulling you with him out of the store again. “They ain't alive. The news weren't lyin' to us 'bout the dead risin'. We got a real fucking problem on our hands now.”

Choosing to trust his judgement, you nodded and hurried next to him. The two of you ran down the sidewalk, heading in the direction of your apartment. As you continued onward, you highly regretted deciding to walk to the store instead of taking Daryl's truck. It would've been a whole lot easier to escape the mess surrounding you if you had a vehicle.

Just as the two of you arrived at your apartment building, about a dozen of the undead people were stumbling out of the door. Daryl quickly pulled you with him to the parking area instead, making a beeline for his truck. However, more of those things flooded the area and a couple of them were heading straight towards you, and it was clear that the two of you weren't escaping without a fight.

“Ya got yer knife?” Daryl questioned, shooting a glance at you over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” you told him, gripping the knife so tightly, your knuckles started turning white.

“Good,” he replied, stepping forward to plunge his knife into the skull of one of the monsters. He withdrew the knife, holding it ready to use at a moment's notice. “Ya gotta stab 'em in the head as hard as ya can, alrigh'? Dun' think 'bout 'em bein' alive. These assholes ain't alive.”

“Don't worry about me trying to talk them out of eating me or something,” you scoffed, replicating the way he was holding his knife with your own. “I'm not that stupid. All these fuckers are getting from me is a fatal blow to the head. They're not touching me.”

“Atta girl,” he praised with a small smile. However, his attention soon got diverted back towards the flood of the undead stumbling around the parking area.

As the two of you continued onwards, Daryl repeatedly stabbed the heads of the monsters. By some miracle, the two of you made it to his truck without you having to do anything. However, just as Daryl was getting into the driver's seat and you were opening the door to the passenger seat, a slimy, blood covered hand gripped your arm tightly in its clutches.

You let out a small cry of terror, instantly alerting Daryl to your horrifying predicament. However, as you struggled against the literal death grip of the monster, its teeth trying desperately to take a chunk of your flesh, you realized that you couldn't wait for Daryl to come to your rescue. By the time he managed to make it towards the other side of the truck, you would already be doomed. You had to take matters into your own hands.

Shakily, you drew your hand that held the knife back and plunged it deep into the thing's skull with a sickening force. The monster miraculously fell limp with the first blow, its hand falling from your arm. However, before you could fully process that you had just killed something that was once human, Daryl took your face in his hands and checked you over, his eyes filled with fear. You had never seen him with as much terror in his eyes ever before.

“Are ya okay?” he asked in a hurried manner, his voice shaky. “Please tell me the prick didn't get ya. No bites, scratches, nothin'.”

“I'm okay,” you assured him, watching him calm down somewhat. “But we have to leave. Right now.”

“Yeah, let's g—”

The deafening sound of a gunshot echoed through the area, followed closely by the rumble of a motorcycle. When the motorcycle came into view, you were both simultaneously relieved and disappointed to see none other than Merle Dixon. He stopped his motorcycle once he saw you, an exasperated look on his face.

“Y'all jus' gon' stand there and get eaten or get in the fuckin' truck? I did not risk my life gettin' here jus' to watch y'all get eaten alive.”

Daryl opened the door to the passenger side and quickly ushered you in, shouting over his shoulder at Merle. “Wha' the fuck are ya even doin' here?!”

“Helpin' yer sorry ass!” Merle exclaimed, shooting at another oncoming monster. “C'mon, let's go!”

Daryl didn't need to be told twice. He rushed to the driver's side and hurriedly got in, starting up his truck and speeding out of the parking area, following behind Merle's motorcycle. With all the chaos that unfolded, the two of you hadn't even managed to go grab some clothes from your apartment. However, by some stroke of luck, as you glanced towards the back of the truck, you noted that two duffel bags were resting there, as well as a bag with everything needed to construct a tent and Daryl's crossbow. You thanked your lucky stars that the two of you had gone camping for his hunting trip two days prior, and forgot to remove everything from his truck. The clothes were dirty, sure, but once you found a body of water, you'd be able to wash them. And Daryl's crossbow would more than likely come in handy.

“Are ya okay?” Daryl asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. He was nervously chewing on his thumbnail, his eyes darting between you and the road.

You nodded at him, trying to calm your racing thoughts. In a matter of thirty minutes, your life had flipped upside down. You had killed someone, whether they were dead or not. The blood from the kill coated your skin and made you feel sick at your actions, but you tried to remind yourself that the thing you killed wasn't human anymore. If you didn't kill it, it would've killed you. It would've killed—

Gasping, you sat upright and clutched at your stomach. Daryl looked at you worriedly, his eyes trailing to your stomach. His eyes widened in terror, his grip on the steering wheel tightening even more, if possible.

“Wha's wrong?” he questioned. “Oh, god. S'somethin' wrong with Peanut? Did those pricks—”

“No! No, nothing's wrong,” you reassured him, your hand resting on your stomach. “It's just... With everything going on, I forgot about the baby. I forgot about my own child, Daryl. What kind of future mother does that make me?”

Daryl moved one of his hands to rest on your thigh, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles on the fabric of your jeans. He sent you a small smile, hoping to bring you some comfort.

“S'okay,” he told you. “Yer not gon' be a bad mom. With everythin' goin' on, yer body went into fight or flight mode. S'cause of it tha' ya managed to keep the baby in yer belly safe. And once they're here, I know yer gon' do yer absolute best to protect 'em.”

“I hope so,” you mumbled, resting your hand that wasn't on your stomach over his hand. “I really hope so.”

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

One month had passed. One month since the dead started walking. One month since everything you knew got destroyed. One month since you had stumbled upon a quarry camp filled with other survivors with your husband and brother-in-law. One month since your life turned upside down.

You sighed as you washed one of Daryl's jeans, subtly listening to the other women's conversation, the other women sitting quite a distance from you. Most of the women in the small camp you were in tended to keep their distance from you, deeming you damaged goods because of the people you were with. Well, more so because Merle was your brother in law. You and Daryl tended to keep to yourselves, with Daryl only speaking to others when absolutely necessary, but the same couldn't be said for his hotheaded older brother. Merle had made quite the impression, and not a good one. And automatically, by mere association, they had deemed you and Daryl the same. Most of the women simply referred to you as the archer's girl, and you were pretty sure they didn't even know your actual name.

Most of the women didn't even bother acknowledging your existence most of the time. The only exception was a sweet woman named Carol Peletier, who offered you her kindness whenever she talked to you. She offered you tips on how to properly scrub stains from jeans, on how to fix up the holes in your husband's socks, and so much more. She was the only one who you'd felt comfortable enough sharing the secret of your pregnancy with, so even though she promised not to tell anyone, she silently offered you her support, and gave you advice regarding your pregnancy by telling you stories about her own pregnancy with little Sophia. Carol was your only true friend there, and you deeply appreciated her.

Without her, you probably would've snapped at the other women there for the judgemental looks they threw your way, so you cherished the friendship you had formed with her.

The touch of a calloused yet gentle hand drew you from your thoughts. You looked up and locked eyes with your husband, his blue eyes staring down at you with a softness only reserved for you. You sent him a smile and dropped the pair of jeans you were washing on the ground, standing up to face him better.

“Ya know all'a tha' washin' s'now ruined 'cause ya dropped it in mud, righ'?” he told you playfully, sending you a small smile.

You smiled and shrugged. “It's your jeans. I've never heard you complain about a little mud on them before, considering those kills you have to skin that stained these jeans in the first place.”

Daryl chuckled and shook his head. “Yeah, yer righ',” he replied, before his smile fell and he adapted a more serious tone. “I have to go huntin'.”

“Again?” you asked incredulously, your mood visibly deflating. “You went on a hunt not even two days ago.”

“Yeah, I know,” Daryl sighed, fidgeting with his hands. “But tha' Shane prick demanded tha' I go on another hunt again fer some reason. I dun' know why, 'cause we have 'nough meat to last us another week or so, but he threatened to throw us out of the camp if I didn't go now. We can't leave. 'Specially not now.”

Your lips formed into a small smile as Daryl's eyes trailed down to your stomach, his eyes softening slightly as he thought about the life that fluttered there, the life that he had helped create. His very own son or daughter. A small being that he would go to great lengths to protect, even if they weren't born yet. His little Peanut.

You stepped forward and pressed a chaste kiss against his cheek, before withdrawing again. You giggled at the blush that spread across his face, and didn't miss the way his lips twitched up into a small smile. He could say whatever he wanted, but he secretly loved your little public displays of affection. It was never something big, like some passionate kiss or a full-blown make out session. It was always something small and sweet, something quick to show your affection without drawing too much attention to the two of you. A subtle graze of your hand against his, quick pecks on the cheek, a gentle squeeze on his shoulder, you name it. You knew how to show him love in public without making him uncomfortable, and he loved you for it.

“How long will you be gone?” you asked, nervously fidgeting with your fingers.

Daryl noticed and subtly took your hands in his, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “Ain't no tellin'. Walsh demanded tha' I find some venison, and tha' might take me a while. Dun' even know if there are any deer here.”

You pursed your lips and nodded. “Stay safe, okay? I love you.”

Daryl nodded. Stepping out of his own comfort zone, he leaned down and pressed a feathery light kiss to your lips. When he pulled back, he gently caressed your cheek. “Always am. And I love ya more, sunshine.”

With that, he turned around and left, leaving you standing alone with the unfinished laundry. Watching his retreating figure, you smiled fondly, completely missing the envious looks the other women were sending your way.

They hadn't heard your conversation, the two of you being too far away to overhear anything, but they did see the way the archer interacted with you. It was so vastly different from the way he talked to anyone, including his own brother, his own flesh and blood. It was clear there was a lot of history between the two of you, good and bad, and it made the two of you a strong couple. From what Merle had let slip in his high state once, the two of you had been together since you were both merely seventeen years old, and by the looks of it, the two of you were still going strong. The two of you radiated love for one another, and that's more than most could say about their own past relationships.

It was clear the two of you shared something special, and it was unfair to them that they couldn't find love like that. And with the world ending, they doubted that they ever would.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Three days had passed. Three days where Daryl was nowhere to be found. Three days where you had to deal with Merle's disgusting attitude on your own. Three days where you had to sleep alone in your shared tent, wishing he was there.

It seemed like baby Dixon noticed their father's absence, and they weren't happy about it. For the past three days, you hadn't managed to keep anything down in the depths of your stomach. Any and all food you ate came right back up again a few hours later, and it wasn't exactly pleasant. Thankfully, nobody saw you whenever you rushed to the bushes behind the RV to spew the contents of your stomach out, so nobody knew of your pregnancy yet.

And you had Carol by your side whenever your stomach rebelled against you, so that was a major plus.

“God, I hate this so much,” you groaned in frustration, eliciting a laugh from the woman gently rubbing your back.

“It's what comes with the joys of pregnancy,” she laughed lightly, continuing the circular motion on your back until you felt better. Once you stood upright, she handed you a bottle of water, encouraging you to drink as much as you needed to. “Drink up. You need to stay hydrated.”

Once you had enough to drink, you handed her the bottle again. “Thank you,” you thanked her, giving her a small smile. “How'd you handle it? The morning sickness, I mean.”

“I was lucky enough to only experience a mild case of morning sickness,” Carol explained, wrapping her arm around you and starting to walk with you back to the main campsite. “You know, and I'm not saying this to pressure you at all, but maybe you should tell everyone about your pregnancy. It would be good for Glenn to be on the lookout for prenatal vitamins.”

“I can't,” you denied. “Then everyone will look at me like I'm carrying the plague and see me as just another liability. I can't have that. Daryl and I can handle things on our own until we absolutely have to tell everyone.”

“Okay,” Carol replied, before shifting the conversation away from something that quite obviously stressed you out. “I drank a lot of herbal teas when I was pregnant. That seemed to really work for the nausea.”

“Just great,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Where the fuck are we supposed to find that?”

Carol smiled and gently rubbed your shoulder. “I'll see if Dale has some. I remember him mentioning something about ginger tea.”

“What if he asks why you need it?” you asked hurriedly, worry lacing your tone.

“Don't worry, I won't tell him,” she reassured you. “I'll just tell him I'm feeling nauseous. That something I ate isn't corresponding with my stomach. Trust me, he'll believe it.”

You sent her a smile. “Thanks, Carol. I mean it.”

She smiled at you before disappearing into the RV, on a search for Dale. You stood waiting outside, staring ahead at the treeline. You hoped that by continuously looking at it, your husband would appear from the trees with a deer over his shoulders, dirty but unharmed. Alas, as you had learned over the last few days, that didn't work, and you wished you could go out there and look for him yourself, but you knew he'd be extremely mad if you did.

No, your main priority was your baby at that moment. Your husband had shown time and time again that he could take care of himself, so you chose to believe that he'd be fine. You had to believe that, otherwise you'd spiral into an abyss you didn't want to go down.

The feeling of somebody standing next to you startled you. You stumbled and nearly fell, but the hands of the mystery person caught you. Looking up, you locked eyes with the self-appointed leader of the group, Shane Walsh. His brown eyes were staring down at you, a small grin on his face.

“Sorry, girl. Didn't mean to startle you,” he apologized, slightly rubbing your arms.

Feeling extremely uncomfortable, you shrugged his hands from your arms and took a step back, putting some distance between the two of you. You sent him a tight-lipped smile.

“It's okay,” you replied, hoping that he would end the conversation with that. However, the man had other plans.

“What's your story, lady?” he asked curiosly, leaning back against the metal of the RV, his eyes trailing over you in a way you didn't like.

“My story?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “What's a pretty girl like yourself doing with a lowlife nothing like Daryl Dixon? I mean, you could have anyone you want, but you chose him, the redneck. Why?”

“Because I love him,” you stated matter-of-factly, sending him a harsh glare that only seemed to spur him on even more.

“Bullshit. There's gotta be something to it,” he disagreed, chuckling at the glare on your face. “There's no way that a guy like that managed to pull someone like you. It goes against all the laws of the universe. So tell me, what's he got to offer? Is he paying you? Are you some prostitute he keeps around for his own pleasure or something? You certainly look pretty enough to have a guy pay you for something like that.”

Before you could stutter out an angry reply to Shane's deprecating accusation, a hand gently gripped your shoulder and pulled you aside. Looking up, you saw Daryl, an angry look in his eyes. Without a word, he stepped forward and viciously connected his fist with Shane's nose, hearing the satisfying crack of the bone there.

“Son of a bitch!” Shane exclaimed, bending over to clutch his nose in his hands. “What the fuck, Dixon?!”

Daryl gripped Shane by the collar of his shirt and shoved him against the side of the RV, a threatening glare on his face. Terror filled Shane's eyes, something unusual for the for the man. Everyone started gathering around the fighting pair, and Carol, who had rushed from the RV once she heard the commotion, pulled you back from the battle ground, holding you firmly against her side.

“Listen'a me real fuckin' close, Walsh,” Daryl spat angrily, his voice dangerously low. “I dun' care wha' ya say 'bout me, but if ya ever talk 'bout my pregnant wife like tha' again, I'll do so much worse than jus' break yer nose. Ya dun' talk to her, ya dun' look at her, ya dun' even breathe the same fuckin' air as her. If ya do, I'll skin ya alive and feed the remainin' pieces of ya to the walkers. Do I make myself clear?”

“Fuck you,” Shane groaned out.

“Yer venison's on the table. Next time, go hunt fer it yer fuckin' self.”

Without waiting for a response, Daryl shoved Shane harshly and turned around, meeting your eyes. Instead of finding fear in your eyes from his actions, he found adoration instead. You stepped out of Carol's hold and took Daryl's hand in your own, dragging him to your shared tent. You didn't even spare a glance at the people, so you missed the way all of their eyes widened at the realization that you were pregnant, that they had been unnecessarily rude to a pregnant lady that had done absolutely nothing wrong. They had been harsh to an expecting mother and father, for no reason at all. Everyone felt guilty, but the groan that Shane emitted caught their attention once again.

Back in your shared tent with Daryl, you were stood busy gently cleaning the blood from his split knuckles while the man sat on the cot. Daryl was avoiding your eyes, feeling ashamed of his actions. In all the years that you had been together, you had only seen him lash out like that once—one time when you were drinking together in a bar when you were twenty-four, a guy had grabbed your breast without your consent, and Daryl had completely lost it. After that, he swore he'd never act like that around you ever again, but Shane made him break that promise.

“I'm not mad, you know,” you finally broke the silence, watching the way his ocean coloured eyes flickered over to you, the confusion evident in them. “Shane got what he deserved. Quite honestly, I planned on punching him, too. You just beat me to it.”

“M'sorry,” Daryl mumbled, ducking his gaze to the floor. “I know ya can fight yer own battles. S'jus'... Hearin' the way he talked 'bout ya, like ya were some object who's worth he could judge... I dun' know. It made me pissed. Ya dun' deserve to be treated like tha'. 'Specially not when yer carryin' a baby in yer belly. Speakin' of, m'sorry I revealed yer pregnant. I know ya wanted to keep tha' hidden.”

You smiled and gently lifted his chin with your finger, gazing deeply into his eyes. “It's okay. They would've found out eventually,” you told him, gently cupping his cheek. “Look at you, always so considerate about everyone else except yourself. You're amazing, Daryl Dixon.”

Daryl blushed. “Yer the amazin' one,” he countered, leaning forward to rest his forehead on your stomach. He placed a small kiss to the clothed skin. “Peanut's gon' have one hell of a mama.”

“And one hell of a daddy,” you replied, bringing one of your hands to thread through his hair. “I love you, Daryl.”

“Love ya more, peach,” Daryl murmured, closing his eyes at the comforting feeling. “Love ya too, Peanut.”

The serene moment was soon interrupted. The soft calling from Carol grabbed your attention, and you giggled at the groan Daryl let out.

“Y/n?” she called out. “I've got that ginger tea I promised you.”

“Ginger tea?” Daryl questioned, looking up at you.

“Yeah. I got a bunch of morning sickness without you around for some reason. Seems like Baby Dixon doesn't like when their daddy's not here.”

“Good,” Daryl chuckled, rubbing your stomach affectionately. “Then I guess ya won't mind if I stick 'round.”

“Hm,” you hummed, pretending to think about it before letting out a slight giggle. “I guess I'll keep you around.”

“Tha's real good to hear.”

Before you could respond, you heard the bellowing voice of your brother in law. You groaned in frustration, praying that Carol had gotten out of the line of fire, because your tent was about to become a war ground.

“When the fuck were ya plannin' on tellin' me ya got yer whore pregnant?”

Daryl visibly tensed up at his brother's words, anger flaring up in his eyes, and you knew that another beating was about to commence. “The fuck did ya jus' say, Merle?!”

“Ya heard me, boy.”

God, you hated Merle with a fiery passion, and you doubted that would ever change. But you loved Daryl, and you knew that as long as you had him by your side, you could face anything.

Yeah, your little Peanut was gonna have the best father ever.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[thevirtualvalentine]

TAPE ONE : PIZZA DELIVERY !

Starring… PORTGAS D. ACE 📸

SET SCRIPT :

“Hi hi hi!!! For the follower request event, can i get a pizza delivery Ace? Sweet boy, kinda clueless, and a sweet reader as well? 🥹❤️”

MATURE WARNING(S) : unprotected penetrative sex, cheesy porno dialogue, cunnilings (you sit on his face), slight breeding kink if you squint, afab/fem reader, Ace thinks you’re really pretty, thick!dick ace (canon), switchy!ace, & he calls you “sweetheart/pretty girl.”

DIRECTORS CUT : for my love @kingofthe-egirls !!! I loved this prompt so much and have been itching to complete it since I saw it. Thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy. 🖤

A Friday night with nothing to do, a product of boredom. You didn’t feel like doing anything tonight, especially cooking. Sitting in your apartment in shorts too tiny for your ass and a tight tank top, waiting for your pizza delivery.

Getting your usual favorite combo from the local shop guarantees a good comfort meal with some quiet TV before you head to bed. The couch offers you adequate back support after a long week at your desk, sighing and falling into the cushions while ads play in the background as ambiant noise.

Time slips you before there’s a series of knocks at your door, playing a rhythm as you’re pulled from your trance. “Yo, Delivery.”

Checking the peep hole before unlocking the door you’re faced with the cutest delivery boy. He’s in shitty combat boots and cargo shorts matched with a half buttoned uniform shirt. His long wavy black hair kept under a hat as he reads the receipt, “a large pizza for y/n?” You open the door wider as you step into frame. “Ohhh, for miss pretty y/n,” he corrects himself, tipping his hat at you with a smile.

Giggling slightly you cover your mouth, “yeah, y/n. Thank you so much, let me get my wallet.” You wish you could invite such a cutie inside but you know it’s against better judgement. Turning around you make your way through the apartment looking for your wallet.

Ace, the delivery boy, grins watching your dainty ass sway as you saunter back inside. Tiny shorts riding up between your cheeks as you bend over the counter, but he’s just the delivery boy. A distressed look crosses your face before you walk back to the doorway where he’s leaning. One arm holding your pizza and another flexing as he rests his weight into it.

“Everythin’ ok?” A pretty girl like you should never have such a perturbed look spread across your face like that.

You lean forward, studying his name tag. “I’m sorry Ace, I can’t seem to find my wallet. I must’ve left it at work.” Feeling like an idiot you’re barely able to look at him. The guilt of making him come all the way from across town to deliver your order setting in.

“I can help ya find it,” he offers, ignoring the fact he’s on the clock. It’s not the first time something like this has happened at work, just not to someone so enticing.

“No no,” biting your lip as you try to think of a solution that’ll remedy the situation. You look at him, worried to find an annoyed expression on his face but you heat up finding such a soft handsome gaze thrown your way. A complete stranger so bothered by your troubles. “How bout I pay you back? Whaddya say?”

Confused, he tilts his head; was that not the problem in the first place? “How,” he asks curiously.

Looking into the hallway, you check down both ends before tugging him inside by the collar. “Like this.” Leaning on your tip toes not letting go of his shirt you kiss him softly, taking over his senses with your soft plush lips against his. Ace drops the pizza and doesn’t even bother to catch it as it clatters to the floor. “That ok with you?” Your eyes looking at his lips and then back to the rest of his face.

He’s lit up bright red as he nods dumbly, “more than ok.”

You push him back against your front door chasing his lips once more. He tastes like cinnamon gum as you swipe your tongue against his bottom lip, eager for entry into his mouth. He grants it to you unquestionably, equally craving the feel of your heated tongue sliding against his. Muffled groans escaping him as your hands caress his warm exposed skin beneath his shirt.

“You’re s’good at this,” he says in between each wet smack of your mouthes. His hands wrapping and groping along your waist and backside, kneading the plump flesh like playdough. The cutest part is he’s much taller than you, bending down so you can kiss him how you want.

“You think so? I can get better.” One of your hands leaves his chest, trailing down his toned body as you palm his hardening cock in your hand. “Oh, and you’re so big Ace. Almost like you’re paying me with all this.” Heavy breaths leaving him as you cup his dick tenderly and give such feverish love to his neck all at once. It has him rutting into your hand trying to satiate that itch that’s been bothering him ever since he saw you in the doorway. Little shorts leaving nothing to the imagination.

You unzip his cargos, leaving only his thin boxers between his growing length and your nimble fingers. He rolls his hips harder each time you tease the waist band and lick his lips as you both swap saliva. “Stop teasin, thought I was ‘sposed to get paid.”

“You’ll get compensated, delivery boy,” you grab him by the belt loops as you lead him to your couch. Smiling as you push him back, he plops against the cushion with a soft ‘hmp’. Ace takes off his shirt, throwing it to the side as he man spreads to ease the ache in his balls, bulging erection awaiting your attention. “Want your dick sucked or what?”

While that sounds like a great idea, Ace is more eager to taste the sweetness between your legs. “Sit on my face pretty girl, wanna eat you.” He pulls you by the back of your thighs, edging you closer to his body as he starts to slide down your shorts. His forwardness makes you glow, slotting your hands in his hair, ruffling it slightly while he tends to your clothes. For a delivery boy, he sure knows the art of seduction. You’re practically dripping for him already.

He kisses your hipbone while waiting for you to join him on the couch. Sliding down the cushions, grabbing hold of your legs as you mount and hold the backing. “You sure?” He stares up at you from the valley of your swell breasts and smooth tummy, not having any of your objections. He sits up to swipe his wet muscle from your clit down. A soft ‘oh’ leaving your lips as he gets to work.

“Mhhm,” he moans as he taste you, almost analyzing its components like a savory sauce. He plants his hands on your waist, pulling you down further onto his mouth— it’s as if he’s not afraid of suffocating down there.

He’s eating you out like a man starved, dipping and curving his tongue into your oozing hole before suckling on your clit. He ignores the mixture of spit and slick on his chin as he devours you greedily. “Pussy’s so fuckin’ good, could eat this every day.”

Your soft moans encourage him to give you more, he needs you to fuck his face. He uses those same hands to hook around your ass and thighs, dragging you down on his tongue as he licks your insides. “Oh shit, ah— wait Ace,” you try to sit up, running from all the attention but it’s no use.

His strong arms keep you planted in place, “no runnin’ m not done yet.” Fuck this guy is hot, it’s like he’s straight out of a shitty 80’s porno as he makes you cream against his mouth. He slurps and sucks your hole as you whine loose chants of his name.

Adding his hands into the mix when he slides two fingers knuckle deep inside you. Scissoring your tight walls, you shake feeling those calloused pads massage your g-spot. “Gotta cum for me sweetheart, then I’ll fuck you as a tip.”

It feels even closer cause his tongue does not relent from your throbbing bud. Sliding it back and forth while his fingers give you something to squeeze on. “Yes yes, like that!” You sound so raunchy taking advantage of his face; running your hips in a figure eight along his tongue.

He’s grinding against the air trying to find friction, shallow thrusts up that match the pace of his fingers inside you. So close, you start pinching your nipple trying to tip yourself over the edge of raw pleasure. The pizza delivery boy of course notes this, groaning as he watches you play with yourself. He wants to replace his hand with yours, pinching and tugging at your dark bud. But, he has to keep you in place while he fucks you on his fingers. “Gonna— oh fuck,” here it comes.

Your orgasm crashes hard, washing over you in one big wave as you almost collapse on his face. He drinks whatever you offer as you whine and cry out, it’s too good. “Think you’re stretched? Cause I really wanna fuck you now. Ya look really hot when you cum.”

He’s swiping the culminating wetness from his face into his mouth, sucking the fingers he had inside you like a greedy bastard. Licking and suctioning onto the pads to emphasize how needy he is for you. Oh, he’s good.

“Be my guest, pretty boy.” Ace has never really thought of himself as pretty, so hearing someone as beautiful as you say it, it must be true. He flushes a light shade of pink while removing the rest of his clothes.

“Condom?” Like an idiot, he didn’t bring any and his wallets downstairs in the shitty delivery car where he typically keeps one if he’s lucky.

“Want you inside, I’m on the pill.” Oh.. and he gets to pound you raw? He’ll definitely be coming back here. Shaking your ass back and forth at him as if to invite him over. “Cmon I want the tip already.” He laughs at your two way pun, rubbing your ass in his hands as he marvels the sight of you bent over the side of the couch.

Ace sees his hard work continuing to drip down the insides of your thighs, smirking while lining his fat tip up with your cunt. He spits in his hand before pumping himself to make sure it’ll fit just right. You’re pushed forward till your hips meet the arm of the couch, sandwiched between two immovable forces.

He’s trying his hardest to not just slam into you, your pussy is so warm and wet around his cock and there’s nothing separating the two of you. You’re squirming from the sheer size of his length even after all that work he did to prep you. “Doin’ so good taking all of me sweetheart. Just a lil’ more.” He doesn’t know if he’s saying that for you or himself at this point, the way your bare walls grip his cock makes him double over.

The couch gives before Ace does, each thrust of his strong hips into you makes it creak and slide forward. He starts off with deep punctuated strokes, each one earning a high pitched cry from you. He’s pummeling your cunny, making your hips rub against the arm as your knees begin to buckle.

“Feelin’ good pretty girl?” But when you go to open your mouth any answer is replaced with moans that sound so pornagraphic. “Fuck your cunts so good. Suckin’ me in.” Being drilled by the hunk of a man behind you and the friction of being fucked into the couch is bringing you near your second orgasm of the night, you start to feel it licking at your insides tentatively.

Ace isn’t in much better shape himself, fucking your pussy raw is taking all of him to shoot his load right in you. He needs to get his moneys worth after all. “Can’t cum yet pretty, wanna see you.”

He moves you both to the couch so you’re flat on your back, one leg hooked around his small waist as another dangles off the couch. “Easy baby, remember to breathe,” he says before easing himself back in. That feeling of fullness returns and brings a dopamine rush with it as he flashes a toothy smile your way. Savoring the feeling of sliding his tip through the gummy resistance.

Your body is so warm beneath him as he drives in and out of your soaking cunt. “Cmon’ give it to me baby. Know you were so close…” Ace trails a hand down your abdomen, spreading his palm across your stomach as leverage while he fucks you stupid. Hair shrouding his face as he coos at you. “Please, dont wanna without you.”

The way he pleads for you is what does it, breaking the dam that was holding back another mind shattering orgasm from this sexy delivery boy. “Ahh fuck, cumming— oh! I’m-” you’re gripping onto him for dear life, firm biceps not budging an inch even when you start to dig your nails into his skin.

It all happens so fast he doesn’t even realize he’s also cumming right behind you, too caught up in the way your sultry lips fall into an “O” shape as you scream his name loud enough to be heard by the entire complex. He buries himself to the hilt, mind boiling with the thought of how he’s fucking his cum into you raw. For some reason the idea only pushes him to not pull out, letting you keep all his seed as he mewls. “Take it, take it all,” sweat accumulating at his hairline.

You’re squeezing him like a damn vice while you come undone, face scrunched so pretty. It makes his cock ache inside you, relishing in the soft sighs that come from your parted lips.

You both start to come down from your lust filled highs when he speaks again, “mhhhm, you’re still a few cents short.” He kisses you, leaning forward and almost suffocating you into his large chest.

Oh boy, hopefully he clocked out.

Enjoy? Reblog & click 2 see event masterlist!

[milf-murdock]

Nightmares

(Simon “Ghost” Riley x 141!Reader)

Summary: You’d always avoided spending the night with Simon, quick to make excuses and get out of there soon after your passionate and enthusiastic bouts of mind-blowing-sex.

One night, you accidentally fell asleep. And Simon finds out what you’ve been hiding.

Warnings: Soft Ghost™ should be his own warning ☠️ nightmares, comfort

It was practically routine at this point, you showing up at Ghost’s room, sneaking across base under the cloak of night. There was always a false pretense ready to go—oh, just a quick form for the Lieutenant to sign. Just need to go over one last detail of the mission—though you seldom ran into anyone asking too many questions.

Ghost was always waiting for you.

What started out as a single night of poor judgement, nothing more than blowing off steam with a squad-mate, quickly delved into something much much more. It happened as gradually as walking from the shallow end of a pool into the deep end: slowly, and then all at once, Ghost’s feet were out from underneath him and he was treading water. As much as he was loathe to admit it, he craved your company. And clearly, you felt the same way, if the way you tapped on his door night after night was any indication.

Seated on the edge of his cot, Simon took another sip of his bourbon, a rare treat he stashed away in his quarters for nights such as this, trying (and failing) not to look at his watch.

21:05. You were late.

Simon wouldn’t say he was waiting for you, per se. But he wasn’t not waiting for you. His thumb traced a drop of condensation running down the glass.

Tap. Tap. Tap. There it was: the signature three knocks.

It wasn’t intended as a code of any sort, but it had become a sort of running secret language system between you two.

Tap. Tap. Tap. I’m here again.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Let me in again, Ghost.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Come see me, Simon.

Ghost took a final sip of his bourbon before placing the chilled glass on the coffee table in front of him and pulling down his balaclava.

As he opened the door and your frame came into view, Ghost tried to pretend he didn’t notice how his heart racing as he took in your subtle beauty. His eyes raked over you from head to toe, drinking you in, committing your face to memory as if he hadn’t just seen you the previous night. Maybe he was going mad, but Simon could have sworn that the hours between each visit felt like they were getting longer and longer, despite you showing up at his doorstep at promptly the same time every day.

“Hey,” you smiled up at him, and for the first time Simon noticed the signs of exhaustion tugging at the edges of your eyes. You must not have been sleeping well, he thought to himself.

“Sorry I’m a bit late, lost track of time trying to wrap up this last report,” you continued, stepping over the doorstep.

“S’fine,” Simon assured as he helped you out of your coat. “Glad you made it.”

It was routine: taking your spot on Simon’s bed, your lips finding his as the small talk dwindled down. The unending waves of pleasure as Simon devoured you, thrusting into you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to this world. The two of you collapsing into a sweaty, tangled mess, panting for air in the aftermath.

Simon tugged you into his side, letting your head rest on his chest as he cupped the back of your head, keeping you firmly in place.

“Fucks sake, love,” he panted out. “That was incredible.” Still deep in that post-orgasm haze, a small nod and hum of agreement was all you could manage as you tried to coax feeling back into your shaking legs. Lost in a moment of pure tenderness, Simon tentatively pressed a kiss to the top of your head. He was so so tempted to ask you to stay the night, just as he had been for the last several nights. And though the excuse differed from night to night, the gist was always the same. “Sorry, Si. I can’t.”

Just as he was finding the wordsto convince you to stay, Simon noticed the soft snores coming from you and the steady rise and fall of your chest.

This was new. You fell asleep.

Perhaps it was the lingering exhaustion from your last mission, or the intensity of the two back-to-back orgasms Simon coaxed from your body, or the soothing sound of his heartbeat beneath your ear as you laid on his chest, but for the first time, you fell asleep in Simon’s bed.

Simon smiled to himself in the dark and pressed you in a little closer, his hand trailing up and down your back. He hated to admit how nice this felt. How right it felt to hold you in his arms. And in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder what on earth had stopped you from doing this before?

It didn’t take long for Simon to fall asleep with you in his arms. Your steady breathing and comforting weight on his chest were quick to lull him to sleep, tonight already proving to be one of the best nights sleep Simon ever had.

There was a whimper in the dark.

Simon’s eyes fluttered open. Another sound, and his exhaustion-riddled brain was still trying to fit the pieces together when he felt the twitch of your body on top of him.

You were having a nightmare.

The realization dawned on Simon as another soft cry escaped your lips and you subconsciously pressed your face into Simon’s chest. He carefully brought up a hand to your shoulder, giving you a gentle shake. “Love?” He whispered into the dark. “Wake up, it’s just a dream.” His voice wasn’t used to taking on such a gentle tone. You let out another whimper, and Simon felt his heart cleave in two. He gave another firm shake of your shoulder, his voice growing louder. “Sweetheart, wake up.” You gave a final cry as your body twitched and you pulled your head up. Your breathing came in ragged gasps.

“Easy,” Simon coached. “Take it easy.”

You moved to sit up, Simon following suit, his hands resting on your shoulder in an attempt to ground you.

“Fuck,” you rasped out. “Fuck, I didn’t mean—“ you were cut off by another gasp, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes as the panic from your dream escalated into panic in the present, mixing with the embarrassment at the display unfolding in front of Ghost. “I didn’t mean for you to see that, to see me—“

“No.” Simon cut you off, his hands wrapping around your wrists and gently pulling them from your face. “No, love, don’t say that. Just breathe for me, yeah?” He released his grip on your wrist as he sat back, surveying your trembling form. You inhaled sharply, trying your best to do as he asked.

“Atta girl,” his low voice filled the space, calming you down even further. “Gimme another.”

You took another breath, finally feeling your heart rate start to slow down.

“Simon, I—“ you were cut off again, this time by Simon’s lips pressed gently against your own, just a quick peck, a motion meant to soothe, not to interrupt your stabilizing breaths.

“S’alright, love.” He murmured. “I get ‘em too.”

You nodded your head in understanding. You should have guessed. After all, you both had your fair share of traumatic, nightmare-inducing missions together. That’s to say nothing about the more personal hardships you had each endured outside of your time in the 141.

“Is this why you’ve been avoiding staying the night?” Simon took a shot in the dark, his voice was reserved, trying not to pry too hard for fear of you becoming even more of a flight risk. He couldn’t explain it, but he had this deep seated feeling that if he let you leave just then, you might never come back.

You gave a solemn nod, the thought occurring to you too late that he might not even be able to see the gesture in the dark.

“Thought so.” Simon sighed, raising a tentative hand to brush against your shoulder. This kind of touch was new to him. And to you. You bristled for a second at the sensitive touch, before caving in. Later on, you’d blame it on the midnight haze, still half drunk on sleep, the adrenaline from the too-real nightmare, the safety of the dark room. But you felt yourself slip into Simon’s grasp, strong arms folding you into his body.

You were unsure at first, stiff in his arms, before finally succumbing to the motion and leaning into his form. Simon gently lowered the two of you back down on the bed, making sure you were back in your original spot against his chest. “C’mere,” he muttered, a hand pressing into your back to pull you even closer. “I've got ya.”

It was an unspoken agreement in that moment, a truce of sorts. A line of vulnerability had been crossed and the shift in the atmosphere was palpable. There was no going back. Not for you. Not for Ghost.

Masterlist ✧ Ask Box

[hiddenzev]

Second Confession: Part 1

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Already having a crush on Joel for a year now, she was asked to be his patrol partner.

Chapter Warnings - Angst, One-sided love, Unrequited Love, Idiots in Love, a hint of fluff

WC: 1.6k

series masterlist . AO3

A/N: This is my first time committing to write a complete series of a fic. Also my first time posting it on tumblr so i'm still navigating and figuring things out. I love reading unrequited love with a happy ending stories so this has been living in my head rent free for awhile. I speak broken English most of the time (singlish iykyk) so there might be errors in my writing here and there, sorry bout that. Idk if anyone is gonna read this but if you do, i hope you enjoy it. This is prolly gonna be a 5 part series so the next few chapters will be longer than this.

Knock, Knock, Knock

You finish up washing your hands in the sink before shouting over your shoulders, “Coming!”

You dried your hands before making your way to the front door. You quickly put on your coat before opening the door and finding Tommy leaning against your porch with his hands in his front pockets.

“Good morning!” he say with a smile, “Ready to go?” he asks, turning his body to gesture them to walk out front. You nod your head and turn to lock your door. Both of you walk out and make your way to the cafeteria for breakfast as usual.

The cafeteria is filled with people in the morning. After getting your food, both of you made your way to the table in the corner with Maria, Ellie and Joel already seated eating their food. As you get closer, Tommy went to Maria’s side and bent down to kiss her on the cheek before sitting beside her. You sit down beside Ellie and gave your greetings to the group.

“Good morning,” you greet them.

“Morning.” Ellie greeted back with mouthful of food still in her mouth.

You get a nod from Maria as she looks up at you while eating her food. Maria has been nice to you from the moment you got to Jackson. Even though she can be strict and tough at times, that is what makes you admire her. You, on the other hand, are reserved and laid back. You are not a leader but more of a follower. That’s why you respect her a lot because of what she’s doing for the community.

It’s been 3 years since you arrived in Jackson, tattered with the remnants of the past and  the pain within you. It was difficult to adjust to the community at first but the couple currently sitting in front of you embraced you into the community with open arms without any judgement. They taught you everything that you need to know about Jackson and since then, you have been living here without much difficulties.

Unlike Maria, Joel does not even acknowledge your presence and keep on eating his breakfast with a frown on his face. You wonder if you will get to be the receiver of his smile one day. You had seen him smile a couple of times while talking to Tommy and you want to see his smile more often.

However, Joel is someone who distances himself from everybody else and has a tough exterior. People in Jackson find him intimidating and stay as far away as possible from him, scared to agitate and make him angry. He’s always tensed around everyone except the ones that he consider his people like Tommy and Ellie.

Joel and Ellie came to Jackson a year ago to find Tommy and that was when you saw him letting his guard down for the first time when embracing his brother in the middle of the town. After that, he had returned back in his shell refusing to open up to anybody. In the beginning, you tried to come up to him and strike a conversation but he always reply with one word answer or silence or a glare that can burn through your skull. You understand that after everything that happened to this world, it’s tough to live with optimism and hope like before.

Ever since he arrived, he had caught your eye. With his rugged appearance, tic in his jaw every now and then, a face that doesn’t show you a hint of happiness and you still can’t take your eyes of him when he’s around. You don’t know why you seek to look or ask about him when he’s not around. You have been harbouring this feeling towards him for a year now. It’s starting to bubble up on the surface and you’re afraid that you can’t contain it anymore.

You shake those thoughts away and start to dig in your food. Breakfast is filled with Ellie telling everybody on the table about things that she learned in school and asking us about life before the outbreak. Tommy and Maria answer her questions and Joel scoffs at what she said sometimes. You watch her talk about life before the outbreak with wonder in her eyes and you can’t help but smile at her. She brings up the feeling of serenity in you when you see the curiosity in her eyes.

Seeing the world through a kid’s eye is something that we adults cannot afford to do anymore. You are caught up in what Ellie is saying that you don’t realise that Joel, who is sitting on the other side of Ellie, is looking at you. You stare in each other’s eyes for a few seconds before he look away and go back to finishing his food.

“How are you feeling today?” Maria ask you.

“I’m good,” you answer, tearing your eyes away from Joel.

“Do you mind covering Tim on patrols next week?” Joel looks up hearing this. Tim is Joel’s patrol partner. They’ve been partners for almost a month now. Apparently, Tim and Joel don’t get along well. I mean, no one gets along well with Joel. Anyone that got assigned to be his partner always backed out after a few weeks. They cannot find anyone that can handle him except for Tommy. For awhile, Tommy was his partner but they cannot let him stick with him all the time as they needed Tommy’s help somewhere else sometimes.

You look at Joel to gauge his reaction. His stern look towards Maria is not breaking.

“Yeah I don’t mind.” You turn your head to look at the couple. Tommy is giving you an apologetic look knowing Joel is difficult to work with. He look at Joel who has turn his eyes away from Maria and now towards him.

“Joel, please. We don’t have anyone else.” Tommy says with a begging look on his face. Joel stares at him without saying anything.

“Oh come on man, is it so difficult to not be mean?” Ellie breaks the silence. Joel frown at her as she continues to speak.

“She’s my friend and she’s nice,” her eyes widen to emphasise her words.

“I don’t want you to infect her with your ‘old man attitude’,” she air quote annoyingly, making Joel to soften his eyes a little bit.

“Besides, she’s the only one that can stand you and your grumpiness.” Joel look at her confused. You are confused too by what she said. What does she mean by that? Tommy and Maria exchange glances before Maria speaks again.

“If everyone is ok with it, I’ll see you at the gates for patrol next week.” She looks at everyone for confirmation before stopping to look at you. You give her a nod before she stands up to start her day. Everybody quietly leaves before you are left with Ellie alone who still has a little bit of food to finish.

You timidly ask her about what she meant earlier, “Ellie, what do you mean when you said I’m the only one that can stand him and his grumpiness?”

Ellie looks at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. She smirks and continue to eat her food not answering your question.

“Ellie!” you urge her to answer you.

She just laugh at you and stands up to return her tray. You are left alone being confused.

Feeling a little bit sluggish from the day, you make yourself a nice hot tea and make your way to your front porch. You sit down on your chair, immersing yourself in the calm stillness of the night. You have always enjoy the nights in Jackson more than the daytime. 

As you are relaxing, what happened earlier today, creeps up in your mind. The way Joel was looking at you makes your heart beat faster. What was he thinking while looking at you like that? Also, what did Ellie meant when she said that I’m the only one that can stand him and his grumpiness? You did not spend a lot of time with him alone for her to think that way.

You are perplexed on joining him on patrols, knowing the fact that a lot of people had a tough time with him. You cannot back out from it now and you are taking this opportunity to get to know him better.

While you are in thinking about Joel, you hear the strumming of a guitar nearby. It must be him. Joel lives adjacent to your house and you know that he plays the guitar some nights thinking no one is around to hear him play. You are not able to see him play because he plays the guitar at his back porch all the time. You did get to see him play once when he was back facing you, sitting at the edge of his porch, taking in the sunset. You had thought it was a beautiful view even though he wasn’t facing you.

You did not tell anyone about your feelings for him but you think that maybe Tommy has caught on to it. Sometimes he caught you looking at his brother and he would give you a mischievous smirk.

You have been wanting to tell Joel about your feelings that you’ve kept for about a year now. You also know that it is a risk as he will probably react badly to it. You do not expect him to accept it. You are doing it mostly for yourself. Call it selfish or whatever but you think it’s better to let those feelings out and move on with your life without keeping a secret that will only eat you from the inside.

Having a crush for a year is a long time and you think that it won’t progress any further so you’d rather do it fearlessly with no regrets. With a determination to confess , you let yourself listen to him playing the guitar for awhile more before calling it a night.

next part

[lingeriae]

DEEP

synopsis - being fuck buddies with geto suguru has got to be one of the worst(best) decision you have ever made, especially since you have feelings for said man. ( inspired by deep by summerwalker)

warnings! - cursing, smut, use of n-word, fwb to lovers-ish, angst, fluff, happy ending (or it there?).

parings - geto suguru x black! reader

You try not to make eye-contact with the male infront of you, his arms crossed over his chest as he slouched spreading out his long legs infront of him. From the eyes glaring into your skull, you could tell he was staring at you and he couldn't care less if anyone noticed how hard he was staring.

He looked good, and you had no doubt he smelled good either although you hadn't been all up on him to know if that was true or not.

But Suguru always smelled good, you knew that and you'd bet that bitch who was rubbing all up on him knew it too. She had on a neon-green tube top, with a black leather mini-skirt to match it, her sliver nose stud glistened under the lights as you watched her move closer to your man-

'huh?'

You immediately ended your train of thoughts there, deciding to get up and find yourself a drink because of how delusional you sounded.

"Ima go get me something to drink," you tapped Shoko on her shoulder before getting up, leaning up to whisper in her ears so she could hear, "be right back."

She nodded, turning back to a blushing Utahime which made you giggle knowing Shoko was defininetly gonna hit that tonight. As you walked you pulled down the shorts that was riding up your ass, sucking your teeth as it just rode back up.You finally made your way to the kitchen, opening the fridge to look for something strong that would make you forget the thoughts you had from earlier.

Bending over to open the draw at the bottom, the feeling of someone coming up an pressing into your ass causing you to gasp and stand up straight, your plump lips immediately set to cuss out the bitchass who thought that was a bright idea. Turning around, you immediately sucked your teeth at the person looking back at you,

"I know your mama taught you better than that." you said, turning back to the fridge to grab the beer you wanted and trying not to make the warmth from the male behind you cloud your judgement. Suguru grinned, his eyes creasing around the corners and his smile lines appeared causing you to clear your throat at the warmth that spread inside of you unexpectedly.

"And I know I taught you better than to ignore me." he replied, grin still on his face as he looked down at you watching how you fiddled with the top of your beer nervously and twisted your glossed lips. Something he noticed you always did while being confronted. You rolled your neck, and Geto mentally prepared himself for the attitude you were about to give him, placing his hands inside the pocket of his sweatpants as he watched you fold your arms as if to intimidate him.

The thought made his lips tilt up for a spilt second,

"Well, im sorry ian wanna interupt you and your little 'friend'."

Suguru paused at your comment, tilting his head to the side his eyes narrowing at you. "If your jealous, say that."

You almost broke your neck because of how fast you looked up at him, your eye twitching as you repeated the word jealous over and over in your head. Sucking your teeth you looked Geto up and down,

"Nigga please, jealous? You aint even my man talking bout some 'jealous'." You side stepped him, your eyes rolling as you continued to cuss him out under your breath. "Dick aint even that good, witcho bitchass."

As soon as the words left your mouth, you immediately regreted it. A sinking feeling appeared in your stomach as you prayed he didn't hear what you said only to curse under your breath at his response.

"Oh, word?" you didn't know what made your face heat up, the tone of his voice, how close he was to you, or the look in his eyes. Sun-kissed skin almost feeling like it was turning red because of how hot it was getting, and you subtly tried to press your thighs togther as you kept eye-contact with the black haired man, biting your plump lips at the expression on his face.

Suguru leaned in closer, his hair that was out of it's usual bun brushing causing the strands to brush against your cheeks, his lips so close to touching yours. He placed one hand on the counter behind you, while the other moved to push you up against him, his hands feeling up your ass as he had you right were he wanted you.

"You're being so bratty, but don't worry i'll fix that shit soon enough." and just like that he backed away from you, checking you out before turning and walking away leaving you with your chest heaving and your thighs pressed tightly together as a ache started to form between your legs.

For the rest of the night you were anxious, wondering what Suguru was going to do and making sure to constantly dodge him for the rest of the night, and it was working, mostly.

"Hey guys, m'gonna head out now I got things to do in the morning and I be damned if I wake up with a headache." you said, waving goodbye to everyone as you walked out of the house preparing to call an uber.

An arm wrapped itself around your waist, briging you into a firm chest.

"Where do you think you're going?" you tensed, not looking behind you as you tried to keep your straight as you swiped through instagram.

"Im going home Geto."

Suguru licked his lips as he looked down at you, his chest vibrating as he laughed before grabbing your hand leading you towards his car.

"W-what the fuck? bro, let me go. Geto im not playin with you right now, let me go." you struggled against his grip, feeling as his hands tightened around your wrist but not tight enough to hurt you.

He opened the door waiting for you to get in while you stood there staring at him with your arms crossed and your plump lips turned down into a scowl. Sighing, Suguru rubbed the bridge of his nose becoming irritated with your behaviour.

"Get in the car, Y/n."

"Fuck you."

"Later, baby." he flashed you a grin before his face got stern again, "Now get in the car, before I haul your pretty ass in myself." you stared at him for a good minute before sucking your teeth and rolling your eyes, moving inside of his car with a huff as you sat down. Smiling the male closed the door beore jogging around to his side of the car.

The car was silent as Suguru droved you home, you stared out the window refusing to look or talk to him while he drove with his hand place firmly on your thigh, herefused to move it even after your attempts at pushing it off, and the other one on the wheel. He sighed as he stopped at a traffic light, turning to look at you who stubbornly refused to look at him.

"Wanna tell me what the fuck I did?" He said, rubbing circles in your thighs you turned to look him up and down, "Nothing."

Suguru sucked his teeth, glaring at you. You could see he was becoming fustrated with you, which made you even more upset because how dare he.

"If it's not nothing why the fuck are you acting like this?" Turning to face him more you returned his glare, your eyes begining to water as you look at him. "Why the fuck you care so much? You aint care when you was with that bitch declining my calls."

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked at you, his chest hurting as he saw how hard you were trying to hold back your tears. "What the fuck are you talking about, Y/n?" You kissed your teeth at him, shaking your head. "Ion even wanna talk to you right now."

"Nah, what the fuck are you talking about?"

Forcing yoursel to laugh, you turned yourself back around no longer facing him. "I just find it funny how you feeding me all this fake shit, just to be up in other bitches faces. Having me calling you just for you to be up in some randoms pussy and having me look like a clown."

The car got silent as Suguru looked at you, waiting for you to show any sign that you were joking. He sighed opening his mouth to answer you only for a car horn to interupt him making him realize the traffic light had turned green again. As you reached to your house you were immediately out of the car, slamming the door as you got out and trying to walk fast so that the male behind you couldn't catch up.

You stopped halfway as he grabbed your wrist, refusing to turn towards him so that he could see the tears in your eyes.

"I don't know what somebody said to you, but baby, I promise that the only pussy I been in is yours and all this shit im feeding is not fake."

Sniffing you turn towards him, unlocking your phone before shoving it in his face. "How you gon explain this then?" He took the phone from your hand, staring down at it with a crease in his eyebrow. Shaking his head SUgur looked back up at you, "Mama this picture is old, where did you get this?"

"Some bitch sent it to me on instagram, thought I should know what you get up to when you tell me your busy." You say, sass evident inyour body language. "How I know your not lying?"

"I can't prove im not lying you just gotta trust me on this," he releases your wrist to hold unto your waist, bringing you closer to him only to be stopped by you bringing your palms to his chest.

"What about you declining my calls?" you feel your core heat up because of the way the way Suguru was looking at you. Eyes low lidded and a little glossy, roaming your figure ever chance he got his held unto your wrist as you lay your palms against his chest feeling how fast his heart was beating from your touch alone, he licked his lips as he noticed your eyes on him before the turned up into a lazy grin. "My phone was dead because I forgot to charge it. You would've know that if you didn't block me."

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarassment, allowing Geto to bring your wrists up to his lips placing a kiss on them, before drawing you in closer by your hips. His kissed the side of your neck causing you to grip his shirt, without having his touch for several days you were now weakened by it no longer touch-starved because of his lack of touvh. Suguru drageed his lips against the side of your neck, smirking at how sensitive you were, he brought his lips to your ears and you suddenly felt hot all over at his next words.

"You were being so mean at that party tonight, think you should make it up to me, don't you?"

"W-wait! Sugu-aah!"

The brutal thrust that the man behind you were giving could almost be desrcibed as animalistic. The grip he had on your hips never letting up as the other forced you to keep your arch.

"Wait on what baby? You keep my pussy away from me, and what me to wait? taah must be fucking crazy."

"m'sorry, s-swear jus-fuck! hold on!" Geto yanked you back into him, a squeal leaving your lips at the feeling, "Where you going, baby? Thought the dick wasn't that good? Why you runnin from it?"

"m-m'sorry da! i am-i am! mmm, best dick I ever had I swear!"

A grin stretched across Suguru's face at your words, giving your plump brown ass a smack before giving you a thrust that definetly hit the spot, "I know baby, just needed this dick to fuck some sense into you." Nodding your head in agreement, you repeated the male's name over and over mesmorized by how good he was making you feel.

"Keep on forgettin that t's your dick, and your's alone. Just like this pussy is mine." He brought his hand to rub at your clit, a whine falling from your lips as you held his hand,

"y-yeah, it's your's a-all your's papa."

There was no use begging for him to take it slow, only to submit to his brutually fast a deep strokes. Your hands are now held above your head because of you trying to get him to slow down but to know avail.

you fucked yourself back on him, listening to the groan he let out and feeling how he tightened his grip on your hair before pushing your face down against the pillow, watching how his cock drilled in and out of you in a fluid motion the sight almost making him dizzy. As he felt himself about to cum he turned you over, wanting to see your face.

He watched how your titties bounced up with each thrust, then to your face and how it was screwed up due to pleasure a little drool passing your lips as you out moans, telling Suguru how good he's fucking you and not to stop.

You came first, and Geto followed right after placing a kiss on your lips as he pulled out. "Suguru, I love you."

He froze up, looking down at you through his hair, which you had pulled out of the makeshift ponytail he put up. A smile soon took over his face as he kissed you again, humming against your lips.

"I love you too."

[bloodiedrogue]

I'M STARVING, DARLING (8)

SUMMARY: For the first time in a long time, you and Astarion find yourself experiencing a sense of normalcy through the chaos.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 3,346

WARNINGS: Sexual tension (there always is with these two, whoops), a bit of bloodsucking, mentions of past abuse, angst if you squint.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry this took so long! I'm back from vacay at work and died for four days straight but now we're back! Sort of!

Updates from now on might not be as frequent but I'm going to try and post weekly; maybe on Saturdays?

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

-

 “Don’t you dare.”

At this point, you’ve been lying there for what feels like hours, locked inside his arms —unable to bring yourself to move thanks to the comfort you feel surrounding your frame. A comfort you haven’t felt in a long time as you listen to the raspy way his voice tickles your neck, prompting you to sigh and give in, knowing that resistance is futile.

“They’re going to kill us, you know.” 

Shifting awkwardly to face him, you try not to smile when he peaks one eye open, quickly closing it when he catches your own. “I’d like to see them try considering I’m already dead.”

“Yes, well I’m not.”

He huffs, clutching you further into his chest. “And that’s my problem?”

Rolling your eyes, you playfully smack his face before wriggling from his grasp, moving to sit upright with a groan. As you do, you quickly remember the events of last night and slowly roll your bare shoulders, feeling them click in and out of place before you raise your arms to the sky with a yawn. 

Despite your better judgement, you stayed up far too late, enjoying the ever-growing intimacy the night had to offer. All of the lingering touches and longing gazes mixed between small bouts of passion and a rather lengthy dip in the tub were nothing short of worth it. In fact, if you were honest, it was better than anything you could’ve imagined. A proper break from the chaos you’d been unwillingly thrust into as of late.

You knew because of that it’d be hard to wake up. To let your mind move from fantasy to reality as the sun hit your face and the reminder of the oncoming doom filtered through your tired mind.

What you weren’t prepared for however was Astarion’s lack of restraint as his curious fingers begin to slip across your back. Carefully drawing up and down your spine, his fingers move in delicate motions, sending an onslaught of shivers down your spine that have him chuckling under his breath, shuffling closer toward your frame. 

“If you told me last night I’d be enjoying such a delicious view…”

When you turn to give him a narrow-eyed look he trails off, looking at you with feigned innocence as he kisses your shoulder blade, allowing his lips to linger as you stare him down. 

“You’re lucky you're cute.” 

“And you’re lucky my blade’s still attached to my clothes. Otherwise it’d be at your throat threatening you back to bed.” 

“Kinky.” 

Immediately he snorts, pressing his forehead against your back. “For fuck sakes— come back to bed, please. I won’t ask you again.” 

Biting your lip, you look around the room for a moment, picking apart the disaster of discarded clothes and muddied floors mixed between half-opened packs of supplies. Somehow despite the disarray of it all you still manage to smile as you crane your neck back, knowing that you should get up but ultimately give in to temptation, shuffling around Astarion’s frame to rest your head back on your pillow. 

“Fine. You win.”

“Win?” He slips effortlessly into your side, leaning over to place a chaste kiss to your cheek before tracing the edge of your jaw with his finger. “And what pray tell is my prize?” 

“My company.”

He scrunches up his face in false disgust, softly taking hold of your chin. “I was hoping for something a bit more exciting.”

It’s apparent then that he’s looking for a repeat of the hours prior. More moments of shared ecstasy before the inevitable shift in focus occurs and you’re most likely left wanting for another few weeks.

It’s tempting for sure. Especially when he slips a leg between your own, gently pushing his thigh against that spot that has you swallowing hard as you close your eyes. 

“You and I both know—“

He cuts you off with a long kiss. One that’s devoid of anything other than the hunger of a starved man, reaching for that initial bite. It’s all tooth and tongue —a mess of movements that have him shifting upright to straddle your leg, breathing hard against your open mouth as he slots his teeth against your lower lip, making you groan.

“Sorry darling, what were you saying?” His grin is wicked when he pulls away, using the moment of dazed confusion to stroke your cheek as you open your mouth to speak. When nothing comes out he merely chuckles and places a much softer kiss in the same spot, resting against you for a second or two before pulling away. 

“You’re awful.”

“And you’re easy,” he muses, moving his thigh against you. “Desperate even.”

Immediately, there’s a part of you that wants to argue that the feeling of your legs suddenly tightening around his own as your breath begins to falter isn’t the result of your desperation, but his. That you’re merely just a victim to his charms like always. However, the bigger part of you knows he’ll probably make you feel otherwise. More than likely, he’ll retort with something far too clever and make you second-guess your words.

So instead, you merely give in to his claims, humming quietly as he explores your frame, quickly laying waste to your neck with an open-mouthed kiss that makes you crave that feeling again. The cold nothingness brought on by his teeth latching against you.

Despite its somewhat violent cause, you still long to remember the feeling. The incomparable bliss of that icy jolt before total numbness occurs, leaving you lightheaded and empty. Suddenly, it takes over your mind, flashing amongst the current movements of his mouth trailing down your torso.

All of it’s enough to say his name. Quietly through the haze of desire, you feel him pause and look up, raising a brow at your heavy chest as you cup his cheek. “Are you hungry?”

He looks at you confused. “If this is some sneaky way of trying to get out of bed, I can assure you—“

“No.” You shake your head, moving it slightly to the side to showcase your throat. “Are you hungry?”

For a moment there’s an undeniable tension that grows. Festering amongst naked skin and scratchy sheets, it builds by the second, making your chest ache with the kind of nervous anticipation that has you wondering if maybe you shouldn’t have spoke. 

He may be a vampire but thus far he’s managed to keep himself from feeding on you since that first time. Something you were both surprised and disappointed by, considering you had expected him to ask for more. Especially after the reaction of his previous feed. It was obvious that it was enjoyable. A moment of pure decadence that left him wanting more despite the consequences.

“Wait a minute, am I dreaming?”

His face is suddenly inches from yours, his breath wafting against your face through a grin that makes you chuckle. “No.”

 “Are you sure? Because I’m sure I’ve dreamt of this exact scenario once or twice.” 

“Have you now?” 

He hums with a nod, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. “Yes. However, the only difference is that I was in a castle and Cazador’s head was on a stick in the corner.” 

You snort and wrap your arms around his head, pulling him closer. “Sorry to disappoint. Hopefully you can consider my offer the next best thing?”

“I suppose. But only because you were my first.”

First?

Immediately, you wonder if it’s a slip of the tongue —another one of his flirtatious lies sent to woo despite already having you. Given the nature of his past, it wouldn’t be all that surprising. Considering his role under Cazador’s thumb was to charm and lure, you know that lies like this are still second nature. A mechanism of lust ingrained into his psyche. 

Plus, it’s not like it’s possible for you to actually be his first. Having spent most of his time in spaces like this, a bit of bloodletting was bound to happen at some point. It was inevitable really when you think of Astarion’s voice and face and overall ability to manipulate. 

Surely it’d be hard to resist. But then it dawns on you —the severity of his abuse. The tightened leash so carefully tied around his neck for hundreds of years. There’s no way Cazador would’ve allowed him such pleasantries. Despite his efforts —despite the countless opportunities to take his fill, it quickly becomes apparent that he wouldn’t. 

Because he couldn’t. 

Because despite the allowance to explore the city, he was still considering nothing.

It makes your heart simultaneously skip and break, watching the sudden nervousness that clouds his features. The way his cheeky grin sort of falls out of place, showcasing an underlying fear that has him licking his lips and searching your face.

“Is that true?”

All he does is nod his head, looking at you with such sincerity that the only way you’re able to respond is to inhale slowly. To stop and stare and subtly nod back, hoping that he understands.

When he does you’re met with nothing but anticipation. A breathless series of moments leading up to Astarion’s mouth against your throat, warming up the skin with languid licks that have you closing both your eyes, waiting for the pain. 

“I don’t understand what I did to deserve you.” 

The edges of his teeth scrape gently over your skin, making you swallow and sigh, unable to answer because you’re too busy preparing. Too busy expecting the pain before it eventually subsides into that numbness you so desperately crave. 

“Thank you, for this. Truly.”

His voice feels like velvet on your skin. The way it coasts the expanse of it in the softest of praise before it’s surpassed by that first initial jolt, ripping through your flesh in one quick push. Groaning lowly, you feel the presence of his teeth slide inside before you can even process, his lips haphazardly slotting over top to suck.

Without much warning you find yourself lost. Laying slack against the bed, unable to even bring yourself to grab his hair like the first time, you merely ride the wave of pain and pleasure that repeatedly breaks against you. Allowing it all to sink in with a quiet hum that has him smiling against your throat, lapping up bloodshed after bloodshed until he hears the door crash open. 

“It's way past sunrise what the hell are you —oh fucking— Astarion, seriously?”

Both of you look over in horror to see Karlach looking down at the floor —her one hand covering her face as she disapprovingly shakes her head, realizing what she’s just witnessed. 

Upon noticing, you know she isn’t all that surprised —just disappointed. A feeling that makes you sick to your stomach as you work to sit up, swearing under your breath and reaching for the nearest sheet despite your head starting to spin.

“I know we’ve been without proper shelter for months but for god's sake Karlach doors exist for a reason!” 

Mortified, you look between them as Astarion scolds, noticing the subtle smirk that rises over Karlach’s lips. “Well, maybe if the two of you got up when you were supposed to instead of lying around sucking each other off I wouldn’t have to fucking come up here in the first place!”

“To be fair, we never got to the part where I suck him off.”

Immediately, Karlach groans while Astarion snorts, prompting you to press your lips together to suppress a laugh as the energy in the room shifts toward your favour. 

“You two are just —just… come downstairs, please. Gale was supposed to cook breakfast but his hand’s still sore from the fight yesterday.”

“What the hell does that have to do with us?” Astarion asks but unfortunately, you already know the answer.

“You know how protective he gets over the cooking duties.” Annoyed, Karlach rolls her eyes, dropping her hand from her face to motion to you. “He won’t let anyone else but Blood-Bag over here do it.” 

Both of you groan but relent, telling Karlach you’ll be down soon before she grumbles a low you better be before shutting the door. 

When she’s gone you let out a sigh of relief, moving to sit up and shuffle towards the edge of the bed, trying your best to ignore the aching in your neck and the piercing gaze of Astarion’s frustration honing in on his handiwork. 

“Don’t even think about it,” you tell him then, narrowing your eyes at the hunger that lingers beneath the surface, threatening to rise all over again at the sight of your bloodied skin. 

Despite this, you know he’s most definitely thinking about it. Intensely and angrily, it’s probably the only thing he’s thinking about as he watches you push off the bed and move to your pack to grab a washcloth. 

“Can’t I just finish you off?” 

As you wipe down your neck, watching the way he frowns at the waste of blood you groan. “Astarion—“

“Please?” 

He’s at your side in an instant, wrapping his greedy hands around your waist, pulling you in all over again. Convincing you that despite the importance of your compatriot’s breakfast, his fill still reigns supreme. 

“Fine but—“

“I promise to return the favour.” He cuts you off with a smirk. One that’s laced with lust and quickly finds its way back to its home, stopping at the entrance with bated breath.

You can’t help but roll your eyes through your suppressed grin in response, feeling his fangs hit your neck only to stop when the door rings out in a series of knocks causing you both to close your eyes and groan, knowing it’ll have to wait till later. 

A fact that stirs an anger in both of you as you begrudgingly clean and throw on your clothes, attempting to ignore all the tension as you head downstairs to the communal kitchen space. 

Inside there’s about half a dozen bodies, slaving over pots and pans and chatting with their peers as they await their meals. In the corner, Gale and Shadowheart stand chatting amongst themselves, unaware of your presence until you’re standing before them, hands crossed grumpily over your chest. 

“Ah! About time you two showed up! We were beginning to think you’d abandoned the crew —or worse.”

“What could possibly be worse than leaving all of you behind?” Astarion asks dully, prompting you to shoot him a glare that has Shadowheart cocking her head.

“Where’s Karlach? Did she find you?” she asks.  

Both of you nod, trying your best not to reveal the events of her findings before quickly changing the subject, signalling Gale to go into some long-winded rant about the importance of breakfast. 

After that Astarion zones out completely. Standing alongside you, you can tell his mind is elsewhere as you and the wizard discuss the various ingredients you have on hand, working together to ultimately decide on a simple breakfast hash you could’ve easily whipped up without the lecture. 

“Do you want me to supervise or?”

You shake your head. “Seriously Gale. I’m fine. I’ve been cooking since I was five. Go rest with the others.”

It takes some further reassurance; mostly from Shadowheart who insists that you’re right because of how starving she is. But eventually, he manages to set aside his pride with a sigh, muttering something about spices before being dragged away, leaving just the two of you. 

“I swear I’ve never seen a more uptight wizard.” Astarion shakes his head while you wander over to the nearest prep table, producing a cutting board and a blade from Gale’s leftover pack. “I mean, I know they’re all pretty tightly wound but him—“

“Can you start peeling potatoes for me?”

He looks at you like you’ve just insulted his character. With widened eyes and open lips, he takes a minute to look around the room to see if you’re speaking to someone else before he realizes he’s the only one there. “Me?”

“Yes, you. C’mere.”

He does, but only to further stand there and stare, letting out a laugh. “Oh darling, I don’t cook. Hunt, yes, but obviously considering the fangs and all that you and I both know I no longer have a need for culinary skills.”

Ignoring his words you hand him the knife and motion to the spot next to you, watching as he reluctantly obeys. “Peel these then cut them into chunks about this big.” You show him the sizing with your fingers, hoping he’s smart enough to understand before tossing a couple of potatoes in front of him. “Then cut these peppers about half that size.” 

As you hand over the peppers, Astarion continues to look at you in disbelief. “You can’t be serious, darling.”

“Dead, actually.” You grin mischievously, procuring some eggs that Gale managed to trade off of one of the other cooks before you arrived along with a bowl. “Besides, I recall a moment earlier when you said you’d return the favour?”

“Sexually,” he states. Then, he grabs the nearest potato and begins to peel, shakily slicing off a piece of potato skin. “Also, if I recall we didn’t even finish your end of the bargain.”  

“Yet.”

Realizing that you’re right, he merely huffs and continues to peel, wreaking havoc along the knuckles of his fingers in the process. 

It makes you frown, watching him struggle as you crack your eggs and mix, remembering that he probably hasn’t done this in years. For the last two centuries, he was too busy hunting whatever he could find underground, desperately consuming whatever crossed his path —meaning he probably hasn’t used a knife for anything other than violence since before he was turned. A depressing fact that has you reaching for his hand and examining his wounds with tired eyes.

“Can I show you how to hold it?”

There’s a moment where he goes to protest but ultimately accepts, looking at you half-annoyed as you explain the angle at which the knife should sit in his hand and the amount of pressure you should use. 

“I don’t know why you insist on having me help. I don’t eat any of it.” 

As he speaks he still takes your advice, letting the knife carefully slide across the potato, avoiding his knuckles entirely, making you grin. “It’s not about eating. It’s about making something you’re proud of.”

“How can you be proud of something that will no longer exist in an hour?”

You shrug your shoulders, unsure how to explain as the two of you then work in silence. As he peels and cuts, you prep your eggs before moving on to the sausage, dumping the meat into a pan with some simple spices that most definitely weren’t on Gale’s list. 

You discover then how easy this all feels. From the moment you woke up, it’s as if you’ve been transported to a new life. One where the threat of danger is lost just like the stagnant tadpole behind your eye. In your mind, there’s not a care in the world other than Astarion’s knife skills and the hungry bellies that impatiently sit and it’s nice. Simple. The kind of life you quickly find yourself longing to have as the two of you continue to cook, occasionally joking about your peers between flirtatious touches and suggestive comments that have your chest feeling warm.

“You know with some practice you might actually be a handy prep cook.” 

Bumping your hip against Astarion’s you notice a flicker in his gaze. One that’s filled with something foreign and happy as the two of you begin walking out your freshly cooked meal. “I’d say you’re wrong but considering my toxic pride, I’ll merely agree.”

Before you can respond the whole table catches your attention. Their eyes are wide with want as you set the bowl of hash at the centre of the table, barely blinking before they’re shovelling it onto their respective plates and expressing their thanks; filling Astarion with a new kind of pride that makes him fully understand just what you meant earlier. 

-

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[waffle-spam]

Can you do wanderer/scaramouche or xiao x reader who is an animal archon!

Literally animals will be following reader EVERYWHERE and all of the animals trust her!

It's ok if you don't do it Ofc❤

Aaa my first ask! I've never written characterization for Scara before but I'll see what I can do :D

Scenario: You're the animal archon, constantly being followed by animals

Characters: Xiao, the Wanderer

Content: Fluff, Reader's gender isn't specified

Xiao:

Would keep his distance at first. Very worried that his karmic debt would hurt them

I always hc'ed Xiao to have bird-like traits or behaviors so I feel like he'd be subconsciously drawn to you as well

Either because he feels safe around you (the reason why most small animals seem to seek you out) or because he feels a need to protect you (the reason why larger animals gravitate toward you). His bird instincts and his warrior instincts contradict but either way he'd feel a pull towards you

Since you're an archon that means you're powerful enough to resist and maybe even counter his corruption (think like Venti playing music and the sound stopping Xiao from losing his mind).

Take him by the hand and reassure him that it's going to be okay, that you're not going to let the corruption affect any of the animals, that he's safe and welcome here.

The dogs and boars will look at the yaksha warily. It's not their fault -- they can sense the corruption and instinctively feel uneasy. Reassure them and they'll trust your judgement

He would watch in quiet fascination as a small finch approaches, allowing you to scoop it up in your nurturing hands

He'd freeze up as you reach out for his hand but he trusts you, letting you coax the little bird into his gloved hands

He would remain deathly still, not wanting to disturb the creature as it nestles against the worn leather of his gloves, fluffing up its feathers in satisfaction

Every once in a while on your travels, you'll be visited by a suspiciously familiar teal colored bird. It doesn't sing or chirp like the other birds. Instead, it sits itself in a nearby perch, as if watching over you and your animal friends almost protectively like you were its own flock

You sense its adeptal energy but you don't say anything about it

Sometimes you can coax it to come closer, though it always tries to keep some distance from the other animals for some reason.

Due to your status and powers as an archon, very few monsters ever approach close enough to bother you to begin with but whenever the teal finch is in the vicinity, it's like there aren't any monsters in sight. Almost as if its presence was repelling them...

Wanderer:

Wait. You're an archon? Yikes

Jk if this is Hat Guy and not the Balladeer, he probably doesn't care (or isn't AS bothered) that you're a godly entity. Besides, if he causes trouble, Aunt Buer will make him apologize anyway...

The first time you arrive in Sumeru (It's been a couple hundred years since you visited due to trying to avoid the bouts of Withering caused by the Cataclysm. You didn't want animals following you there and getting sick) you see a small little creature with a :] face approaching you. Well, at first you don't identify what it is because it's covered by what looks like a big hat

it places the hat in front of you and makes a bouncing motion, as if in greeting

Not long after the little creature sets down its "offering" to you, you hear footsteps that give way to the arrival of a very angry looking puppet.

The rishboland tigers laying down beside you give a small warning growl and the little shroomboars huddle behind you for protection from this new person.

At first he thinks you're just a mortal and asks what the tell you think you're doing sitting out in the wilderness contracting diseases from wild animals (which earns another growl from the rishboland tiger that was enjoying a nice nap resting its head in your lap)

But then he'd sense that you're an archon and give you a look but not say anything

You'd have to convince the Aranara (or the "forest gremlin", as the Wanderer put it) to return the hat back to him

"Is this your friend?" You ask, amused, after coaxing the fairy-like creature to release the hat.

"Hardly." The Wanderer crosses his arms, eyes flashing with contempt. "Little menace follows me around constantly. The whole lot of them do. And they just... watch."

"It's been a while since I've interacted with one," you think out loud, coaxing the shroomboars to come out of hiding. "But from what I remember, Aranara normally only ever show themselves around small children. They must see something in you that makes them trust you."

"..."

For a moment, the crease in the Wanderer's forehead disappears. An unreadable expression crosses his face as if he were contemplating your words, but as soon as the expression appeared it was gone.

He grit his teeth and let out a dry laugh, as if deciding to disregard your words.

Alternate version for Scaramouche's part:

Being the animal archon, you can sense things in living beings.

Specifically, when they're not actually living beings.

Living things had a pulse. They breathed. They strained when put under stress but healed and kept living.

Ruin Guards have a constant creaking sound whenever they move, artificially propelled by magic that had stopped being practiced before even you manifested into the world. Maybe your predecessor would have seen it, understood it. The clockwork meka in Fontaine give off a metronomic clicking sound, keeping time through their walk cycles and other pre-programmed movements.

Sure, these things are animated, but it would be a stretch to call them alive.

When you first met the Wanderer, you didn't sense a pulse, nor did you hear that telltale clicking of gears and wires. He wasn't quite alive, but too elaborate to come across as an artificial imitation.

Maybe, after knowing each other for a looong time, Wanderer will disclose his past to you. How he isn't a god nor a human.

The two of you are sitting in a clearing, you followed by animals, him followed by Aranara.

"Well... Even if you're not the same species as a human..." You say after thinking for a long while, "I still consider you to be a person."

His eyes widen ever so slightly as he listens to you.

"You have the capacity to think and feel and want, just like anyone else. To me, that makes you just as alive as any human, even if you don't share some of the physical traits."

With the way he described his past, such a human reaction to pain and betrayal, the only thing that seemed to set him apart was the godly ability he inherited.

He'd consider your words in silence, not offering a response, but for a moment you swore you heard a heartbeat.

A/N: I was mostly just throwing things at the wall and seeing if it worked for this one. Idk how to write Scaramouche I'm sorry asdfjkl

[theillusionmachine]

Where Love and Confusion Begin (Ominis Gaunt x F!Reader)

"Do you really think I could be that cruel and careless to you?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

December 25th, 1893 The Yule Ball... Wear your best formal attire-

Everywhere I turned I seemed to hear about. Countless after countless bouts of excited, restless chatter would always manage to come echoing back to me. And while I understood why most would be excited about the prospect of a ball, I on the other hand couldn't help but feel... downright anxious about it all.

I knew it sounded silly, completely dramatic. Afterall, I had been through a lot worse things during my time in Hogwarts. But for some reason, my mind, my thoughts, my worries just couldn't relax. And when they did for a short while, they'd slowly begin to drift back onto one person...

Ominis Gaunt.

I was practically infatuated with the man. For a multitude of reasons, besides his obviously good looks. He was marvelously kind, had a whit so quick it could make your head spin, and could be snarky and sarcastic one minute. But caring and loving the next.

Ominis simply made it hard not to love him.

But he did, however, make it hard for me to even think about going to the Yule Ball with him. We were friends, close ones despite the fact that I had only been at Hogwarts for a couple of years. Our friendship would be something I'd always treasure, something I would never want to ruin because my love for him clouded my judgement.

And the thought of losing him because of that was enough to make me nauseous.

"Enjoying a cat nap, are we?"

I slowly cracked open one of my eyes, wincing slightly at the beam of sunlight that had been slowly warming me as I laid down in one of the many alcoves at Hogwarts. But once my vision focused fully, Sebastian came into view. Grinning down at me cheekily.

"I wasn't napping." I muttered, forcing myself to sit up. "Just enjoying the sun.

"You could've gone outside for that." Sebastian suggested, now sitting down on the floor too.

"It's freezing, you sit outside for an hour." I replied, a little too snappy for my liking.

But Sebastian wasn't fazed by my crass mood in the slightest. In fact, Sebastian seemed to find me to be quite humorous. "Aww, is someone missing their nap partner?" He teased, making me grumble in annoyance.

"Oh, shut it, I don't know what you're talking about."

Sebastian let an exaggerated sigh, leaning back slightly on his hands before continuing. "You both are insufferably stubborn you know that right? Ominis was in a terrible mood after History of Magic because you decided to ditch today."

I scoffed at Sebastian theatrics, not even bothering to hide the fact that I had rolled my eyes. "History of Magic is painfully boring, anyone who goes to that class will be in a ba-"

"History of Magic is tiring enough, but her not being their made it worse." Sebastian deadpanned, trying his hardest to imitate Ominis's tone.

"Well, I am very entertaining." I replied sarcastically. "And can you really blame me for skipping out on that class? I swear if I hear one more time how many wizarding cloaks were destroyed during the Goblin Rebellion, I'll lose whatever mind I have left."

"It's 632." Sebastian couldn't help but laugh at my less than amused expression.

"Are you finished? Or did you actually approach me to talk about something important?"

"Yes." He began, clearing his throat. "If you would stop changing the topic that is."

"I am not-"

"Ah, ah, that's the same thing Ominis said to me after classes. You two are so incredibly in sync today." Sebastian teased. "It's quite adorable really. He's moody, you're moody, you're happy, he's smiling up a storm, if you've disappeared to... god knows where, a majority of the time he's right there with you."

It annoyed me to no end how right on the money he is...

"What're you getting at Sebastian?" I questioned meekly, trying my hardest to ignore the flush I was beginning to feel on my cheeks.

"I think we both know exactly what I'm getting at." Sebastian spoke bluntly, raising up from the stone-cold floor. "Maybe you should ask him, Ominis can get into his head rather easily. And you know that can stop him from saying what he wants to."

Sebastian then walked away, leaving me practically dumbfounded on the floor.

Ask him... ask him... merlin I don't know if that idea made me feel better or worse. The idea of being rejected by him was painful. But maybe if I asked to go with him as friends that it would work...

"Sebastian, you might've actually had a good idea for once."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had decided to skip dinner for the night, not feeling too hungry after the talk I had with Sebastian. I figured a moment alone would give me enough clarity to decide whether I'd actually bite the bullet and asked Ominis to the ball.

"Ah, there you. I was starting to think you were avoiding me."

But a moment alone in this school was a rarity... Of course, he was here... why wouldn't he be?

"Ominis, I figured you would've been in the Great Hall for dinner." I greeted, trying to keep my nervous laughter from bubbling up to the surface.

"Wasn't hungry." He answered nonchalantly, turning back to face the fireplace of our common room.

I stood there for a moment, in silence, completely unsure of what to say next. But Ominis beat me to it, filling the silence before I got the chance to.

"Aren't you going to sit?" He began, I hadn't even noticed he had turned his head again, his eyes somehow managing to land right on me.

Just like they always managed to do...

"Or were you really avoiding me?"

That sentence managed to snap me out of my tongue-tied state. That nervous laugh I held in before leaked out before I had the chance to stop it this time around. "You know I wasn't avoiding you."

I finally moved from my spot, walking over and sitting next to him on the couch. I couldn't help but gaze over at him. His hand was lightly raised in the air, his wand beaming red at the tip as a book rested in his lap. A small smile curved his pale pink lips, he looked completely at ease. Which after the past couple of years was a nice sight to see.

"You're nervous." Ominis muttered, and though his voice was soft, I couldn't help but tense up. "You keep bouncing your leg... I know you only do that when you're anxious about something."

"I didn't even realize I was doing it." I admitted, leaning back into the cush couch cushions.

Ominis copied my movements, leaning back against the cushions a mere moment later. His book was now abandoned, the pages of it turning carelessly on their own accord. "Something on your mind?"

I took in a steady breath; thankful it had not trembled like I thought it would. "Maybe." I answered coyly, making Ominis's small smile bloom slightly.

"Are those thoughts the reason I've hardly heard from you all day?"

damn it damn it damn it... think of something to say quick... don't come off as suspicious...

"Hey, maybe you were the one avoiding me. Last time I checked I haven't heard from you too much either today." I deflected, trying to sound humorous.

"Hmm," Ominis hummed. "You've got a good point there... but I have a reason for my... disappearance." He added vaguely.

I leaned forward trying to get a good look at his face. The shadows of the fire danced along his face, illuminating his marble eyes beautiful. His expression was humorous too, and I knew exactly why...

"You know I hate it when you leave me hanging like that." I grumbled, making him let out a smooth chuckle.

"I merely wanted to avoid the constant chatter of the Yule Ball is all. It's beginning to become a bit... excessive."

"You two are so in sync today."

I shook my head, trying to get the words Sebastian had spoken out of my head. "You're telling me, you should hear what I wake up to everyday as of late."

"I could only image." Ominis replied, chuckling once again. "I would rather not hear about something I know I'm not going to."

I could feel my heart sink at his words. I hadn't even thought of the fact that he might not want to go at all.

"N-not going to? Why wouldn't you go?" I questioned curiously.

"A blind person spending their night alone at a ball doesn't exactly sound to enticing to me."

"Oh." Is all I could think to say, I leaned back into the couch contemplating my next move carefully.

Should I ask him... what if he just really doesn't want to go. I don't wanna look stupid.

Screw it...

"Would you want to go with me?"

I tense at my own words, not daring to move to see Ominis's reaction. My heart was racing, so much so it felt as though my pulse was about to burst through my skin. And the silence I was met with after I asked was completely unsettling.

Merlin why did I listen to Seb-

"It's a bit untraditional for a girl to ask a boy to a ball, isn't it?" He pondered.

Okay, it's not a total no... that's a relief.

"Maybe, but it's not like that has to be a bad thing." I replied hopefully. "And besides, it'll be fun to go with someone who... so entertaining to you." I added, attempting to sound boastful, but it just came across as a bit... jumbled.

Another bout of silence came, and in those few moments of the quiet. Part of me wished I was a legilimens, so I could see what was going on inside his mind... so I could hear what he thought of all of this.

When finally, I got my answer.

"I think it'd be nice to go with you."

Oh, my Merlin he actually said yes...

I couldn't stop the smile that began to form, a bubbling shyness began to boil to the surface. And my heart still definitely felt like it was going to beat out of its chest. With what little shred of coolness I had left, I finally was able to reply.

"It's a date...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Then, the 25th rolled around... a day I was dreading at one point. But now felt so excited about it that I couldn't sleep.

I felt giddy, or like a swarm of butterflies was fluttering throughout me. I felt restless, I couldn't stay in one place, and I fought the urge to not pace most of the night. But for some reason, I couldn't seem to care... and with every passing hour that I stayed awake, it just revitalized me.

Though, judging from the bags in my eyes, my body didn't exactly share the same sentiment I did.

But thank goodness for Samantha Dale...

I never would've guessed she had such a knack for Herbology. Yet, when she let me up into her dorm in the Ravenclaw tower, after we agreed to get ready together. A whole spread of concoctions was set up.

"You know there is such a thing as beauty sleep." Samantha teased as she stared at my reflection in her vanity.

She carefully places a mint green cream under my eyes, making a pleasant tingling sensation hit me. "That'll clear those bags up in no time!" She stated confidently.

"Thank you." I began to bounce my leg again as the nerves began to creep up on me.

"Nervous?" Samantha asked, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

"Is it obvious?" I asked in reply, letting out a shaky chuckle.

"Just a smidge." She spoke considerately. "But I don't think you need any reason to fret. I find you and Ominis to be a lovely pairing."

My eyes shot up from my hands to gaze at her and I could feel an eyebrow raise questioningly. "P-paring? as in?"

"A couple?" Samantha replied, just as questioningly as I did.

"Oh... we aren't together... like that." I muttered sheepishly.

Samantha chuckled, looking over at me incredulously. "There's no way! Honestly, a lot of people already assume you two are together."

"Really?"

Samantha scoffed, shaking her head at me. "Look, I've seen the way you look at him. And I've seen the way he is around you. People who aren't in love don't act like that."

"Hey, I'm not denying that I've fallen for him." I admitted honestly. "It's just... a hard thing to say to someone you've grown so close to."

Samantha just eyed me for a moment, seemingly taking my words in. "You think he doesn't feel the same way, do you?"

I felt my lips curve into a bittersweet smile. My sights falling onto my hands again. "It's hard to believe that he would."

"Hmm... but, you two are going to the ball together?"

I chuckled at her puzzled words before nodding my head. "Sounds maddening, doesn't it?"

Samantha was quick to shake her head, a sudden, bright smile coming second later. "Not maddening, but an opportunity. You should say something to him!"

"Eh..."

"No, no, just listen for a second!" Samantha exclaimed. "It'd be the perfect opportunity to, honestly this sounds like something that would be in a romance novel!"

"But this isn't a romance novel."

"Exactly! So, it'll be even more beautiful, when the pair of you are slow dancing... and the music and the others around you fade because all you can focus on is yourselves. And before you know it, you two will kiss."

That truly does sound picture perfect...

"Why would it be more beautiful?"

Samantha lovesick smile faded into fondness. "Because it'll be real, and I'll know that the love you feel will be real as well."

I took in a deep breath, trying not to get consumed by the possibilities Samantha planted in my head. But I simply couldn't...

"You have such a way with words." I huffed playfully. "So, I'm really going to do this? I'm... I'm going to tell him that I... love him."

Samantha nodded; her expression full of enthusiasm. "That's exactly what you're going to do! You'll arrive as friends and leave together reveling in love."

"Won't leave tonight as friends." I muttered moreso to myself to... pep myself up.

But Samantha managed to hear me. "Exactly." She spoke, her tone full of satisfaction. "Now, enough chit chat. We must get our hair done." She added, jumping up from her bed before walking over to me.

"Yes let's..."

As I gazed at myself in the mirror, and I felt the occasional tugs of my hair, my mind began to wander. And soon enough, it wandered right onto Ominis. I was sure he was being a lot more composed than me. But part of me wished that he was just as giddy as I was. Or had thought of little scenarios about how out night would go like I had.

But I seriously doubt that would be going through his mind..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cross, shift, pull, tie...

"Ominis?"

Cross, pull... shift, tie

"Uh, Ominis?"

Tie... tie... tie...

"Ominis! Are you trying to fix your tie or choke yourself?" My friends' words were humorous. And I could hear him try to, but fail to hold back a laugh.

"I couldn't tell you honestly." I admitted, laughing myself as I attempted to tug my fingers out of the knot, I managed to get them in.

I could hear Sebastian begin to walk over to me before I suddenly felt a slight tugging on my undone tie. "You can slick back and swirl your hair into... merlin knows how many swirls; you can somehow manage to perfectly button hundreds of those tiny damn things. But you can't fix a tie?" Sebastian muttered humorously.

I let out an exaggerated sigh before I replied. "I can't be perfect at everything can I?"

"Oh, shove off." Sebastian rebutted, breaking out into a laughter. "There, now that looks like a bowtie... you're welcome princess." He added mockingly.

I sighed, attempting to give him a glare. "Don't call me that."

Sebastian bellowed out another laugh before his footsteps began to wander in our room once again. "What would you prefer I call you?"

"Not that." I scoffed, carefully sitting back down onto my bed.

My thoughts began to push to the forefront of my mind, and it didn't take too long for it to fixate itself on her. Since she asked me, I couldn't help but spend many nights thinking about us... about her. Or how tonight would go, if by the end of the night we'd still be nothing more than friends... or something more.

Merlin did I wish we'd end up being something more. I don't know how much longer I can keep up this... facade with her.

"Ah, what's going on in that mind of yours?" Sebastian questioned but before I even attempted to respond he cut me off. "Is it her?"

"When did you get so bloody... observant?"

"I always have been, dear friend of mine. You just never bothered to notice." Sebastian boasted, I could only imagine how cocky his demeanor was as he spoke.

"My apologies, I've simply been too distracted by all the dabbling in the Dark Arts you did." I replied sarcastically.

"Hey, I stopped... eventually." Sebastian grumbled. "S-stop changing the subject... you two are way too good at it. You must've rubbed off on her."

I simply smiled at his words, soaking in the thought of her once again. The smooth sound of her voice, her raspberry iris perfume, her touch. I could drown happily in the thoughts of her, day in and day out.

I couldn't help but not to... I was hopelessly in love with her. And part of me was terrified because of it. But it was a fear I was thankful to experience in some way, and I'd experience it time and time again if it meant I could have her.

But I knew it my heart that I would never get that lucky...

"You should tell her, Ominis." Sebastian suggested, taking me out of my head once again.

I shook my head at his words, doubt began to replace the feelings of fondness I felt before. "I don't know..."

"What's there not to know? Tonight is the perfect opportunity to."

"I don't want to ruin things with her." I muttered lowly.

"Trust me, you wouldn't." Sebastian reassured me. "And, it's better to say something to her now. 'Cause it'll eat away at you mate, and you don't want that."

"How can you be so sure?" I questioned, genuinely wondering how his mind could work so optimisticly.

Sebastian let out a soft scoff, as if he was stating the obvious. "Friends don't act the way you two act with each other. And last time I checked I never saw you and Anne cuddled up on the common room couch."

"Well-"

"Or had Anne playing with your hair while you napped on her lap."

"Okay but-"

"And I know for a fact that I've never seen Anne get... viscerally envious because she heard a group of girls talking about trying to slip you a love potion."

"Okay, okay, I get your point." I managed to speak, letting out a huff. "I understand what you're saying, I do."

"Ah, finally, you admit I'm right. Your life would be so much easier if you said that more." Sebastian boasted once again. "So, you're going to tell her tonight then?"

"I am." I spoke strongly, though I couldn't help but feel that doubt that had stopped me so many times before seep through. "I can't believe I'm going to, but I am."

Sebastian sounded thrilled as he let out an elated laugh. "Finally! Seriously, watching you two pinning over each other was starting to get old."

"Sorry for the inconvenience." I apologized, rolling my eyes at Sebastian's theatrics.

"Don't beat yourself up over it." Sebastian replied nonchalantly.

"Now let's get a move on, you don't want to keep your lady waiting too long now do we?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The second I left the Samantha's dorm and made my journey back to the Slytherin common room. It was like my nerves continuously dashed away with each step I took. I felt levelheaded, as cool as one could be. It almost eerie to me, how I felt so nervous one minute but then completely calm the next.

Things just... felt right, like whatever was bound to happen tonight was simply meant to be. And I couldn't wait to spend my night with him, gently swaying as time seemingly ceased to exist.

Damn Samantha and her romance novels.

"Well, someone knows how to dress up." I turned my head, following the sound of Sebastian voice.

But any reply I attempted to come up with was lost the second I saw Ominis.

Green looks amazing on him...

"Wow," I began, sitting up from the arm of the plush couch. "You look fantastic."

Ominis was stood there, that same, at ease smile I looked forward to seeing so much greeted me tauntingly. "I'm sure you do as well." He spoke gently, my hands were then lightly gripped and placed in his hold.

My eyes mindlessly wandered down to them, and the longer my hands were place in his the more I realized how warm his felt compared to mind.

"Well, on that note, I think I'll leave you two lovebirds alone." Sebastian teased, quickly exiting the common room soon after.

The silence that came after Sebastian left was comfortable. There was no pressure or... plaguing thoughts to think of something to say. It was as if we were taking each other in, or simply just wanted a moment to ourselves.

I began to trace the faint lines I could feel on his palms before moving over to the next. Ominis's smooth laughter came soon after, making me look up to gage his reaction.

"Reading palms now, are you?"

"Mhm," I replied, smiling softly. "You want to know what I see?"

"Yes, very much so."

"Okay, I see..." I paused, tracing over a particularly deep line, one that almost felt like a scar. "That you have great hands."

I could see that he was taken aback, but not uncomfortable. A light, red flush soon bloomed on his cheeks, illuminating his blue marble eyes.

"And, that your cheeks will glow with a marvelous red tinge." I added whimsically.

"Stop it." Ominis muttered, a light laugh following his meek words.

"Fine." I relented easily, smoothly dropping his hands before hooking my arm with his. "We have a ball to get to anyway."

It didn't take too long to find our way to the great hall, that had been transformed into an icy yet stunning ballroom. The sounds of the classical were an easy guide for the pair of us.

"There seems to be a lot of people here." Ominis spoke, I could feel his arm tense under my hold.

"Seems too." I replied nonchalantly. "Doesn't surprise me too much, after all, all we've heard about these past few weeks is the ball.

"I just... don't want to bump into anyone."

I took my eyes off of the crowd and back towards him. He looked nervous, unsure of himself.

Can't have that...

"Oh, don't worry about that, you won't." I reassured him, giving his arm a light squeeze. "That's what your lovely date is here for." I added teasingly, bumping my hip against his.

Though the worry was still evident on his face, Ominis had begun to smile. Hopefully I was able to ease his nerves slightly. "You definitely are lovely."

"Hmm, so are you." I complimented, before gently guiding him through the crowded hall. "More than lovely." I grinned as I saw his cheeks flushed again.

"Darling..." Though he sentence stopped once I did, finally managing to find an open enough place to dance.

Wordlessly, I clasped his hand, Ominis seemed to catch onto what I was doing and was quick to glide his hand from my ribs to the middle of my back. My breath became caught in my throat at his touch and my posture straightened.

Don't tense, don't tense... we're just dancing.

"Is this okay?" He nearly whispered; I hadn't even noticed how close we were to each other, as we glided... cheek to cheek.

"P-perfect." The breath that was got in my throat finally escaped as I spoke. "Wouldn't want to be in this embrace with anyone else."

"I don't think you mean that." Ominis stated bashfully, delicately turning us around before we began to glide again.

"I know that I do." I answered defiantly. "I honestly couldn't imagine dancing with somebody else."

"Really?" He didn't sound completely doubtful this time around, honestly, he began to sound a bit humorous.

"Are you doubting my honesty, Ominis?" I asked, trying to match his playful tone.

"No, no... i just think you haven't... considered your options." He replied carefully, trying his best to articulate his words.

"Hmm, let's me think then... Amit? Nice, but no. Garreth? He's nice as well but not my type... and he's definitely into Natty."

"Sebastian?" Ominis chimed in, his face becoming void of much emotion.

"No, I imagine he'd step on my feet all night. That sounds less than pleasant does it not?"

"You have a fair point." Ominis agreed, before a slightly sinister grin took over. "Leander."

I grumbled at the mention of the infamous Gryffindor's name, the vibrations of Ominis's laugh could be felt soon after. "Don't make me retch."

Ominis's hand began rub circles into my back, I began to smile at the sensation, closing my eyes as he began to lull me into relaxation.

But then...

"So, why, would you choose me?" He asked, my eyes opening once again.

"Wh-why are you-"

"I just want to know." He cut me off gently. "It's been baffling to me as to why you chose to go with me."

"Because I know you-"

"You know Sebastian quite well."

"Not in the same way I do you... not in the same way that you know me too." I explained, finding it hard to believe I was starting to be so open about something I was so used to shoveling down.

But I wasn't going to stop now.

"You... you make me feel safe, and I know that I can trust you with anything I come to you with."

"I'm not always the most... understanding with some of the things you've spoken to me about." Ominis argued, as if he was trying to downplay my points.

"And I love how honest you are with me. You don't fill me with false confidence, or some... mindless delusions. You're my voice of reason, my tie to reality."

His grip began to tighten on my, and I could see his jaw begin to tense. "Reality isn't always the sweetest."

"You make it sweet."

He stopped his movements at my words, his eyes shut, and his head lowered, shaking. "Stop it." He muttered lowly.

"Why?" I spoke quietly. "Why do you want me to stop?"

"You don't mean it, you, you can't mean it."

"You know I'm no liar." I stated bluntly. "I mean every word... and I mean it when I say that I love-"

A harsh bump made the pair of us stumble, our hold finally coming apart. My words fell mindlessly, like the many specks of enchanted snow that surrounded us.

"Oh I'm sorry!" A voice spoke, clearly beggining to panic at what they had just done.

"It's fine don't-" The sound of hurried footsteps stop me once again, and I didn't need to turn around to know who they had belonged to. I didn't bother to try and finish my sentence, instead opting to hurry after Ominis before I lost him completely.

That wand really did imprint this place in his mind...

I could hardly keep up with him as he ran through the mostly desolate hall. The only people who were lingering in them were broken hearted girls, and the occasional... handsy couples.

Thankfully, before Ominis could fully disappear from my sight. I managed to see him slip outside into the courtyard. I hurried toward the large double doors, hoping I had the chance to catch him.

"Ominis wait!" I called out, my breath desperately trying to calm itself.

He was at the now frozen fountain, leaning against the stone tensely. "Why are you doing this to me?" He asked through clenched teeth.

I stepped down from the snow-covered stone steps, carefully approaching him. "Doing what?"

"Toying with me like this!" His voice was trembling, and he was clearly upset.

Was I too forward? Did he not take what I was saying seriously?

"Toying with you?" I repeated distantly. "Do you really think I could be that cruel and careless to you?"

He turned his head toward me, his eyes seemingly swimming in emotions he was struggling to contain.

"Ominis, my emotions, what I've said tonight, was never a game. It's real to me and it always has been." I admitted, feelings of vulnerability began to creep in. "I- I honestly, don't know how much blunter I need to be for you to believe me but, whatever it takes I'll do it!"

"Darling," Ominis called out fondly, he took in a deep breath before he continued. Most likely wanting to compose himself. "I'm sorry I... It's my mind toying with me, not you."

I grasped his hands, gripping them in hopes of emphasizing my point. "Well, tell your mind to stuff it." I huffed, Ominis bit his lip, holding back a bout of laughter.

I then laid my head against his chest, and I felt him rest his against mine soon after. "Friends don't act this way with one another, do they?" His voice was deep, vibrating slightly through his chest.

"No... and most don't cuddle by the fireplace or... spend all night talking, not even caring about how exhausted they felt because... they were with each other.

I felt him drop my hands from his before his arms wrapped themselves around me. "I treasured those nights, you know that?"

"Feelings mutual." I spoke against his chest, taking in a deep breath of his cologne. "And I hope they're still mutual when I tell you that I've fallen in love with you, Ominis."

My heart at that point felt like it was about to burst through my chest. But at the same time, it felt as though a weight had been lifted off of it.

I had never felt so free yet so... terrified at the same time.

One of his hands that had been embracing me began to travel up my body. Undoubtably leaving goosebumps in its wake. My jaw was then cupped, and my breath stuttering once I felt his thumb gently tugged on my lower lip. Before gently tilting my head up toward him.

"Definitely mutual." Ominis muttered, his lips tauntingly ghosting over mine. "Is this okay, love?"

We weren't leaving tonight as friends.

I closed the gap that kept our lips apart, and with that action, my breath dissipated with it. But I honestly could care less about that. Not when it was stolen away because of Ominis, not when he every touch of his lips and hands warmed nearly every inch of me.

Not when I found out that he actually loved me too.

He pulled away a bit too soon for my liking. A tremor quaked through my body. And I couldn't tell if it was cause my body was finally aware of the cold. Or if I simply missed the sensation of Ominis's touch.

Ominis attempted to warm me up, rubbing my arms as he pulled me closer to him once again. "Cold? Would you like to head back inside?"

A mindless smile curved my lips, a hazy wave of lovesickness came soon after. "No, being here is perfect... nearly perfect."

"Nearly? What can I do to make things picturesque for you?"

"Just... kiss me again, please."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello, I hope you all enjoyed this fic. It was actually a request someone sent in, and I absolutely loved writing it!

Sorry if there were some typos. I tried to proofread it as I went along but sometimes things slip by me. I have another request sent in that I'm going to work on next. But if you liked this one and had an idea of your own. Send it in and I'll gladly take the time to write it for you! Until next time, Illusion.

[bearshideout]

Ahh hi I saw you are wanting request I just gave a question if you would write a Rhea Ripley x reader [Platonic] Or maybe a judgement Day x reader [Platonic]

(Only asking BCS ik some people only like to write romantic relationships)

(First Request! Thank you <3)

Judgment Day x GN Reader (Platonic)

"Family"

You are a new wrestler who has recently joined the main roster but is struggling to find your own group luckily for you a certain group wants you as a new addition and they cant wait to welcome you in.

Y/n sighed as they packed all their stuff away in the locker room, the sounds off chatter filled their ears. It seemed ever since joining a few weeks back they couldn't find their place, everyone had already made there friends and even though they were all nice they weren't accepting new people into there groups. Y/n had never felt lonelier hearing everyone making plans after the match, they had given up on asking anymore groups if they could join the rejection hurt every time.

As they were leaving the locker room they suddenly bumped into Rhea. "I'm so sorry Rhea I didn't see you there" y/n said panicked the last thing they wanted was to start making enemies especially not with the judgment day. All they got back in return was a laugh "Don't worry about it, actually I was just looking for you" As y/n went through all the possible things she could have done to make this conversation go bad they were interrupted but this time by a male arm being wrapped around their shoulder. They looked up to see Damian who was smiling down at them "Yeah we all wanted to talk to you if you don't mind" Y/n looked at them now realizing Dom and Finn had also stood with Rhea. Dom started walking to the Judgment day's room "Lets talk in there don't want anyone listening in" Finn followed behind him nodding, Rhea grabs Y/n's hand and leads her along with a cheeky grin "your not in trouble" she jokes.

Finn opens the door for them all to go inside "We don't bite... well I don't cant say same bout this lot" he jokes getting a laugh out of y/n. While walking in she can see Dom already sprawled across one of the sofas. "so what did you want to talk about" y/n asked looking at them all, Damian's arm still around their shoulder. "Well we've been talking and we think you'd make a perfect addition to the Judgment Day, we have already talked to Triple H and he thinks its just what we need as long as you agree to it" Damian says giving your shoulder a slight squeeze. Before y/n can even gather their thoughts Rhea grabs y/n's arms desperately "Please say yes I'm begging you I need to talk to someone about [same interest] with" she begs over dramatically to sell her point making Dom shake his head and laugh. "So what do you say y/n are you in" Finn asks with a slight hint of fear.

They all wait with anticipation until finally "Yes!" y/n smiles enthusiastically they had been waiting for this moment since they joined WWE they finally had a group. "Welcome to the family" says Finn giving y/n a hug which they happily gave back. "Not fair y/n is now my new best friend I should be hugging them" said Rhea joining in the hug. "Now I feel left out" Dom piped up jumping into the hug which gained a eye roll from Damian who wrapped his arms lazily around the group hug.

"Now the family is complete" Whispers Rhea with a huge smile.

(First request done I hope this was okay! I had so much fun writing it and hopefully overtime get to do more scenarios with the judgment day)

[dixons-sunshine]

No-Nonsense | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

A/N: I am so sorry this sucks. I’m moving in a few days, Saturday to be exact, and I’ve been packing non-stop today. When I finally sat down, my brain was fried and I couldn’t really think of words lol. This was the best I could do. I hope it’s still somewhat okay!

The sound of a disbelieving scoff being let out had Daryl tensing up. His cerulean-coloured eyes trailed over to where you leaned back against the wall, his hard, steel-like gaze resting on your face. “Ya got somethin’ ya wanna say, Sunshine?”

“Yeah, I do.” Your own angered stare rested solely upon the crossbow-wielding archer, T-Dog, Rick and the kid, Miguel or something, not even being on your mind at that moment. “I want a gun.”

Daryl rolled his eyes at your statement. He didn’t even know why Rick had bothered asking you along. If shit hit the fan, you wouldn’t be able to protect yourself, and the archer didn’t feel like dying for some woman he didn’t even care for. Sure, you were a resident at Atlanta General before the world ended and had come along to check if Merle had potentially suffered from heatstroke, but other than that, you were useless. At least, to Daryl’s knowledge.

“Yeah, well ya ain’t gettin’ one. I ain’t ‘bout to have my head blown off ‘cause’a yer shit aim,” Daryl told you defiantly. Truth be told, he did not even know whether or not you could use a gun, but if your hesitance towards even looking at Dale’s shotgun back at the camp was anything to go by, it was best not to trust you with a weapon that could potentially lead to his demise.

Cleverly sensing that the situation would escalate without an intervention, the self-appointed leader stepped forward and between your’s and Daryl’s line of sight. “No need to get at each other’s throats.” Rick sighed, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. The last thing he wanted was for blood to be spilled over something as meaningless as an argument. The main concern was getting Glenn back. Rick turned towards you, an understanding glint in his eyes. “Shane told me you didn’t know how to handle a gun. I’m guessin’ he’s got it wrong.”

“Shane doesn’t know shit,” you spat bitterly, pushing yourself off the wall. “I know how to use a gun. I just don’t like it.”

“Yeah, well s’the way’a life now, Sweetheart. Better get to likin’ it real quick,” Daryl interjected before Rick could respond. He picked up his crossbow and slung it across his shoulder. “‘Sides, how do we know ya ain’t jus’ lyin’ to us?”

“You don’t,” you began, your jaw clenching as you tried to suppress your anger. “I could be lying to you, or I could be telling the truth. Either way, I’m not walking into that place with nothing but my good looks. So we can continue to argue about this all day, or you can stop being an asshole, shut up, trust me, and give me a goddamn gun, or else you can tend to your brother’s wounds on your own if we find him. Your choice.”

If there was one thing Daryl had to give you points for, it was your no-nonsense attitude. Most of the women at the camp seemed to fear him, but you didn’t. Time and time again, you stood up to both Shane and Merle. You refused to be belittled, and he respected you for that. You could stand your ground, regardless of the person you faced.

Swallowing his pride, because he sensed that he could potentially have been in the wrong, Daryl reached forward and grabbed a handgun from the table. He offered it to you, and when you wrapped your hand around the handle, his hand lingered on the weapon for a few moments. “Jus’ so ya know, I ain’t gon’ carry ya when ya shoot yerself in the foot.”

Against your better judgement, you sent him a small smile. “And I’m not gonna carry you when that guy shoots you in the ass for shooting him in his.”

Daryl let out a small huff of laughter. Under normal circumstances, the archer would have still been pissed. However, for some reason, seeing your smile made his anger fade away and be replaced with another feeling, one that unnerved him beyond belief. However, he pushed that odd, fluttery feeling to the depths of his mind. There were far more pressing matters at hand.

Before he could speak up, Rick’s voice flooded the air, making you and Daryl practically jump apart. “Now that that’s settled, let’s get goin’.” For added emphasis, he cocked his gun, motioning towards the kid. “Let’s get Glenn back.”

You spared one last look at the brooding archer. He gave you a small nod, a stark contrast to his previously angered, frustrated state. “After you,” he mumbled, motioning towards the door.

You sent him a playful smirk as you walked past him. “Why, thank you. That was almost gentlemanly of you.”

“Keep up the smart ass remarks and m’shootin’ an arrow into yer behind.”

[elliewlums]

"im sorry i yelled at you" + Joel Miller pls baby🫶congrats btw!

content warnings: fem!reader, argument prior to the scene, apologies, joel is soft on r

you don’t know when the tears started. not definitively, anyway. you remember what started as a disagreement escalating beyond either of your control; you remember a scrambling attempt to reel your feelings in, a tugging in your chest telling you that this is going too far. joel was yelling in a way he doesn’t very often, loud and sharp, cutting through your quieter voice like a knife.

he knows he’s fucked up the second you turn away. you stifle a hiccuping sob with the back of your hand, eyes squeezed shut and back rounding like an armadillo as you scold yourself for being so sensitive. you wouldn’t be under different circumstances, but it’s been a hard week and you’re tired.

you think maybe he’d be better off without you. you almost say it.

almost.

joel’s voice is suddenly closer; his hand scrubs a huge circle across the expanse of your back and your heart ticks, loud and booming in your own ears.

“i’m sorry i yelled at you.”

“it’s okay. i deserved it,” you say— quiet, voice congested where another bout of tears is stuck in your throat.

“no- no, you didn’t.”

you shrug and swipe a cruel palm across your stuffy nose. you’re moving against your better judgement, shoulders tilting until you’re facing joel again. he looks sorry in a sort of frustrated way, brows pinched above his deep set eyes, lips pursed, partially obscured by his scruff, peppered with grey.

“i didn’t mean for it to go as far as it did,” you mumble, lip trembling.

his hand cups the back of your neck and you let him draw you up until your noses are almost touching. his thumb rubs your cheek, just beneath your ear.

“i never meant to yell. i never want to raise my voice at you.” sweetheart, he wants to say; he thinks the pet name is maybe too much. “i’ll never do it again.”

you close your eyes and sag against his firm hold on your top half.

“come here,” he murmurs. you do as he says without thinking, though you’re not sure you can get much closer. his palm is cool against your hot cheeks. “get some rest, okay?”

you sigh and push yourself up towards your sleeping bag, a ways away from ellie’s sleeping figure. to your delight, joel follows.

“you comin’ with me?” you ask. you try not to sound too excited.

he rolls his eyes but settles next to you on the woodland floor anyway. branches crunch beneath your body as you try to get comfortable. once you’re manoeuvred into joel’s lap, your head against his thigh, you’re already half asleep.

you’re not sure why he’s so soft on you, but you’re not going to protest.

[vibingpyro]

Piercings and pretty lips

⚠️ TW ⚠️ : Mentions of piercings, needle and decent in depth process of tongue piercing.

Duck- Affectionate British slang term of affection for another person.

Word Count:2,066

"This would go so much smoother if you stayed still, y'know."

You give an incoherent response as you glare at Hobie through the iridescent light of his bathroom, not that he wouldn't be able to tell the mild impatience in your tone regardless of how unintelligible. Your tongue is pinched carefully between Hobies index and thumb finger, his eyes flickering from yours and back to the extended pink muscle.

Being around Hobie must be an greater influence than what you had expected, as you mentioned thinking about getting an piercing in casual conversation with him while lazing about one slow afternoon at his swaying canal boat home, Hobie had practically perked up like an shark smelling blood in the water at the idea.

How you had convinced Hobie to pierce your tongue in his bathroom of all places though in your eagerness, you aren't too sure but you're certainly not complaining while you sit on the edge of his bathroom counter, Hobie situated between your spread legs to get to properly get a grip on your tongue, seeing if you have the proper anatomy for said piercing.

Hobie hums, tugging just a bit on your tongue between his fingers, testing the elasticity of it ignoring when you grumble at him. "Well, you certainly have the anatomy for it." He says, releasing his pinched fingers from your tongue. You bring your tongue back in your mouth, running it along the roof of your mouth to get rid of that odd dry feeling of it being exposed to air for longer than usual.

"Is that a yes, then?" You ask, barely able to contain your excitement at Hobie nod. He leans to the side, one of his hands lightly drums onto your thigh into an practiced rhythm while the other pulls up the tray of sterilized tools he had prepared on the counter for after his inspection of your tongue. Although you're sure he's had it down his throat enough times to know you had the proper anatomy the entire time, but you don't say complain.

"And you're positive you want this, duck?" He says, quirking up one pierced eyebrow at you still drumming his fingers against your thigh, leaning back to fully gauge your reaction. The familiar nickname rolling off of his tongue, you never really did ask why he had started to call you that but it feels too late to ask about it now. You just glare at him and nod, even sticking out your tongue to further solidify your stubborn answer, you feel if you prolong this you might go back on this whole idea. Hobie huffs out an small chuckle as he shakes his head amused by your antics, "Alright, if you're sure.." he murmurs fingers finally resting against your thigh.

He grabs at an thin black marker from his pocket, gently gripping your tongue between his index and thumb finger again his eyes narrowed in focus as he dots right in the middle of your offered tongue. It surprisingly doesn't have an gross taste you note, just a tad bitter. Hobie leans back and releases his hold on your tongue, shuffling to open a drawer beside your calf digging around until grasping at an hand held mirror and holds it up for you to see the dot marked on the pink muscle. "Right 'bout there?" He asks.

You look into the mirror already trusting Hobies judgement and precision, nodding in satisfaction as you deem the placement of the dot acceptable. Hobie nods back, although it's more of an subconscious movement of your own agreement. He places the handheld mirror down beside you on the counter, his warm hand drifting from your thigh to open the sterilized packed needle on the metal tray on your opposite side. He opens the package with quick fingers, likely from practice of piercing his friends over the years and stitching. You feel a hint of nerves buzzing in the pit of your belly, but you trust Hobie explicitly to not screw this up...mostly. But if things were to go wrong, you would have solid blackmail for at least an year you think on the bright side.

Hobie then grabs at an pair of silver long forceps laid on the silver tray next to you, adjusting his hold on them, moving towards your tongue, clamping down on it with an steady grip as he lines up the dot on your tongue with the hole in the forceps. It doesn't feel too uncomfortable just a bit firmer pressure than Hobies fingers, your eyes trailing Hobies fingers as they move deftly into the open package of the piercing needle and picking it up between two fingers.

"Right, on three.." he murmurs, his eyes meeting yours for a moment of mutual understanding, your hands move to grip at the hem of Hobies shirt in preparation for what is more likely going to hurt like an bitch. You close your eyes as Hobie begins to count down, you feel him move just a bit closer his thigh nudging your legs apart just enough to slide a bit further in between them, easily closing most of the space between you. It would be tender how he molds himself to you if it weren't for the giant needle hovering so close to you.

"One...two...three-!" He cuts himself off just as he pushes the needle in through your tongue. Your grip on Hobies shirt tightens instantly as the needle strikes all the way in. You feel saliva build up in your mouth from the sudden sharp pinch, your nose scrunching up as you breathe through the discomfort as you try to keep your tongue still regardless of the forceps doing that perfectly for you.

"There you go, duck...jus' breathe, in and out through your nose." Hobie murmurs soft reassurances as he puts the forceps aside while keeping the needle steady through your tongue while his other hand grabs at the jewelery placed on the side that he had shown you for your possible options of tongue piercings he had kept around in a tiny mint container assuring you they were all sterilized and clean although you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes as he said it was for in his words 'Mo-mintos' .

You had opted for an an small silver one, it's regular in size and shape but he had said it would look perfect with a sly wink, almost as if knowing something you don't. The last thing Hobie had wanted to do was overwhelm you with a larger piercing you assume.

He slides the jewelery in with ease as he pushes the needle out completely, tossing away the needle efficiently to the trash can in the opposite side of the room before working on screwing in the balls of the silver piercing on each end with quick fingers, unbothered when a bit of saliva and blood runs down over his fingers. You finally peek your eyes open squinting at Hobie through the tears.

Hobie looks up from your now fully pierced tongue, his pupils are a black hole surrounded by his beautifully colored iris as he looks into your eyes. He hums lowly in appreciation, his right hand coming up to wipe away at the saliva and blood dribbling down your chin. "How're you feelin'?" he asks, always attentive. If you weren't so focused on how close he is you can hear the undertone of pride as he speaks.

You slowly bring your tongue back into your mouth, feeling the cold metal of the piercing quickly adjust to the warm temperature of your mouth. The taste of your blood in your mouth isn't unbearable, but the amount of saliva gathering in your mouth is a mild inconvenience as you begin to talk. "I feel fine but it feels weird.." you acknowledge, testingly running it along the roof of your mouth before Hobie can warn you.

You wince immediately feeling as if your tongue were struck by lightning, and Hobie clicks his tongue but his eyes show only concern if not a hint of amusement too. His hands land on your thighs squeezing through the denim of your jeans to try to ground you against the pain buzzing through you. "Ya can't just do that. It's gotta heal." He scolds you giving you an raised eyebrows look, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Which it is. But still.

You nod as your eyebrows remain scrunched together, mostly focusing on trying to will the pain away, but ever greatful for Hobies quick thinking of using his hands to squeeze and rub up and down your thighs, the warmth of his large palms through your jeans is hard not to notice. His lovely, talented palms. Good God, now you're blushing. As if the pain wasn't enough to make you want to jump off of a cliff.

If Hobie didn't notice the heat rising to your cheeks he most certainly is almost able to feel it by how close he is. You speak after the pain finally dims, just slightly. "I was curious." Is all you state, beginning to feel your tongue swell around the base of where the piercing is nestled. Hobie snorts, his head rolls down to your shoulder momentarily, resting there as he stills his comforting motions on your thighs. You barely stop the whine coming from your throat as Hobie pulls his hands away, only to stop once they land on your cheeks and he looks back up, meeting your burning gaze.

"You're an dunce. Open up f'me."

You don't even bother to validate that with an verbal response, guessing he wants to see the piercing once more. You oblige and open your mouth, sticking your tongue back out, the shiny metal damp with saliva and hints of blood. Hobie seems to drink the sight in eagerly, his eyes glued to the metal jewelry he had placed there.

"Knew it would look killer, had a bunch'a fun memories with this one.." he murmurs, thumbs rubbing subconsciously at the skin of your cheeks. Memories? Your eyes widen comically, and Hobie chuckles, his eyes unsticking from the piercing to your own wide eyes. "Oh? I didn't mention that this was my starter?" He states noncommittally, as if it were the most causal thing ever. You had known Hobie had his tongue pierced, it was common knowledge, like when he stuck out his tongue in sassy retort during fond arguments, when he made up for those exact arguments..

But this was unexpected on an entire new level. You had his first ever tongue piercing jewelery in your mouth, likely from years ago. You can hardly contain your hands from gripping Hobies shirt tighter, butterflies rushing to life in your belly at the thrilling revelation. Hobie can't help but smile wider at your clearly affected reaction, keeping his hands on your cheeks. "If I didn't know any better, you like that idea.. don't you, duck?" He coos with just the right amount of condescension. His hands going to rest from your cheeks to beside your legs on the counter you're sitting on, eyes half lidded as he memorizes your no doubt flustered face, cheeks aflame and still dumbly sticking out your tongue for him to admire.

You nod, still at a loss for words but bring your tongue back into your mouth, the pain is a dull after thought by the way Hobie is looking at you as if you had given him an perfectly wrapped present has you trying to lean closer to connect your lips to his but he quickly evades it by moving his head beside your ear, clicking his tongue again in disapproval.

"Uh-uh, no kissing for three weeks till it heals." He reminds you so quietly into your ear and you feel blood rushing into your hear at his voice so close, so sweetly, but you sink back in disappointment at the mention, new piercing means no kissing after all.

Hobie must sense your disappointment as he gently knocks his head into yours, your disappointing thoughts pushed away as he gathers your full attention, suggesting something even more tempting into your ear. "I never said we couldn't do anything else." He says, nuzzling his head down to your neck, pressing soft kisses and nips to the flesh of your neck. "Just keep those pretty lips to yourself, yeah?"

[chackyxyooj]

Attention (Part 2)

╭──────────.★..─╮

Description: Following a bout of shameless one-sided flirting, the MS boy(s) finally flirts back - drabbles.

Included: Garroth, Zenix, Vylad, Ein

CW: Ein.

AN: Do people like to read Ein X reader? Like, his character is so cruel and obsessive after PDH that he’s basically a mustache twirling villain. So why, one might ask, did I decide to write him? Well… I suppose he seemed like fun to write.

Part 1

╰─..★.──────────╯

Garroth Ro'Meave

There was a point in Garroth’s life when he could’ve been considered a bit of a flirt. That’s not to say that the boy had casanova levels of one liners, but that he knew just the right thing to say if he wanted to make someone’s heart flutter. He’s since moved past that time in his life; at least he thought he had moved past that point.

“What do you think about these pants?” You ask as you give a small spin, allowing Garroth a better view of your assets. The boy can hardly hold back his gaze as it trails your body. When he finally has enough sense to meet your eyes, Garroth finds that you’re grinning. “It’ll last longer if you take a picture.”

“You um…” Garroth’s mouth hangs open as he attempts to reply but modesty is determined to fail him. Not only through his words, but through his actions. He can hardly stop his eyes from drifting down your body once more.

You shift in place slightly when Garroth doesn’t give a full reply. “Geeze, do they look that bad?” 

“No! That’s not it at-!”

“Garroth.” You say the boy’s name with a playful lit. “I’m only teasing.”

“Huh? O-oh, of course.” The panic that had begun to build quickly subsides when Garroth sees the look on your face. You grin from ear to ear, amused with your own antics. The flurry of emotions earns a dry laugh from Garroth as he turns away from you once again. “They look comfortable, I guess.”

“Just comfortable?” You muse, stepping out past the confines of the changing room and reaching out toward your companion. Garroth finds himself holding his breath as he awaits your next move. He doesn’t want to say or do anything he’ll regret later but the way you lift his gaze to meet yours is making it really difficult not to.

Against his better judgement a comment begins to slip past his lips. By the time he catches himself it’s too late. You stare at the boy with wide eyes.

“Garroth… what does that even mean?” You wonder in genuine confusion. “What does ‘your eyes are beautiful but I bet they’d look better on my bedroom floor’ even imply??”

“I don’t know! It just slipped out!” 

“Garroth, you’re killing me over here!”

“I’m sorry!” If the boy wasn’t blushing before, he was definitely blushing now. Garroth knows very well that what he said was anything but charming, but you laugh.

You laugh and Garroth laughs with you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Zenix

“You wouldn’t know what flirting is even if it hit you square between the eyes.”

Zenix frowns at your unwelcome observation. How did a conversation between coworkers about customers suddenly become about flirting? The last thing he needed after handling an irritating customer was to be lectured by you; much less to be lectured about flirting. His pride wouldn’t allow it.

“Not true!” Zenix insists, eyes narrowing on you as you continue making drinks. “Flirting is obvious.”

“And what, exactly, constitutes as flirting?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?” Zenix rolls his eyes at your question. What counts as flirting was so obvious that even he knew, so why bother asking such a question? “Pick up lines and bold actions. Obviously.”

“Oh my Irene…” You mutter out between short fits of laughter. “You’re not wrong, but you are naive.”

“Naive?! You’re just being an ass!”

“I never said it was a bad thing. Though…” You state. Before Zenix can get another word out you chuckle to yourself. “...your sharp tongue is something else entirely. There are better uses for it.”

You put the drink you made down on the counter before turning your attention over to Zenix. He can’t quite put his finger on it but your demeanour has changed. The smile on your lips now falls just before it reaches your eyes.

You take a step toward the boy and allow your gaze to quickly trail across his body. Before he knows it you’ve closed enough distance that he can clearly smell the sweet scent that clings to your uniform. Still holding his gaze, you slowly reach up and fix the collar of Zenix’s uniform - something you’ve done plenty of times before but somehow feels different from the other times.

“You clean up quite nicely.” You let your hands linger against Zenix’s shoulders. When you don’t get much of a reaction from the boy you tilt your head ever so slightly.

Just beneath the collar of your uniform Zenix catches a glance of colour. Curious, the boy brushes back your hair and leans in to get a better look. To his surprise, this ultimately drives you to jump back.

“What are you doing?!” You exclaim, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.

Zenix narrows his eyes at you. “What am I doing? What were you doing?”

You open your mouth to reply but shut it as quickly. After a prolonged silence you finally laugh to yourself and your regular demeanour returns. “It’s just as I thought.”

“What’s ‘just as you thought?’ Was there something on my collar?”

“No.” Your reply comes out gently as you adjust the collar of your own uniform. “By the way, those drinks are for table nine. Be a good boy and take them there for me.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Vylad Ro'Meave

“Vylad… I’m bored.” You drag out the vowels of the boy’s name as you lean your back against his. “Entertain me!” 

The boy peeks one of his eyes open to glance at you from over his shoulder.

You return his glance with pleading eyes. “Please?”

“I told you that meditating isn’t for everyone.” Vylad muses. He more or less expected this kind of reaction from you - not because you were a restless sort of person but because you always want attention when you’re with him. The boy can’t help but liken you to a cute, domesticated animal of sorts.

Unsatisfied with his reply you lean further back against Vylad’s back. The sudden pressure causes the boy to shift along his bed. “How much longer are you gonna meditate for?”

“It was supposed to be for fifteen minutes straight but you distracted me.”

“What?!” You gasp. “Fine. I’ll just… entertain myself for a while.”

With a huff you pull yourself off of Vylad’s back and sit up on his bed. Even without looking Vylad can tell that you’ve begun to narrow your gaze. It’s only a matter of time before you try something else.

A few minutes go by and Vylad is surprised that your self-entertainment has nothing to do with your phone, but his surprise doesn’t last long.

“Hey Vylad.” You call the boy’s name in a sing-song kind of way. “What do your parents think about me being alone with you in your room?”

“I’m sure they’re fine with it.”

“Even though we’re being so quiet?”

“Still fine.”

“And the door is closed?”

“Perfectly fine.”

Vylad can hear you laugh to yourself after he gives his final reply. He’d be lying if he said it sounded innocent. In fact, he was almost certain you were about to try something. Whether that was singing at the top of your lungs or rolling off his bed he wasn’t sure. You tend to be unpredictable like that.

What he didn’t expect from you was how close you suddenly decided to get to him.

You lean in close to the boy’s ear, your lips just barely hovering over the skin. Vylad doesn’t give you the reaction you want but you don’t make it easy. He can feel the ghost of a grin against his skin and just knows you’re up to no good.

“Say, what would it take to raise your parent’s alarms?” You whisper in an almost sultry way.

In complete contrast to you, Vylad takes on an indifferent tone and shrugs his shoulders. “Do you want to find out?” Vylad lets his words hang in the air before finally opening his eyes. He was expecting you to be flustered, but not nearly as much as you were.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Ein

There are a lot of things that can cause Ein’s day to go from bad to worse. Listing and ranking every single thing would be a pain in and of itself, but there is one thing about that list he knows for sure: it’s the fact that you are at the top of it.

And now you’re sitting on the table where his books were supposed to be.

“The hell are you doing here?” Ein spits, his eyes practically tearing through your flesh.

“Isn’t it obvious?” You laugh in that mockingly familiar way, crossing your ankles where you sit. “I’m here to check up on you, sweet little pup.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“Why?” You ask, a grin beginning to form on your lips. “Would you prefer I call you a bi-”

Ein slams his hands against the table and takes pleasure in the way your body stiffens at the sound. “You keep your mouth shut, human.” He growls and bares his fangs.

“Trying to start a fight, little pup? Because I doubt that’ll go over well with him.” You quip as you flick the tip of Ein’s nose. The action causes the boy to reel back with a scowl. “I know you don’t like it when ‘weak little humans’ give you orders, but surely you’ll make an exception for me.”

“And why the hell do you think I’d do that?”

“Is that really a question you need me to answer?” You laugh a disgustingly confident laugh. It all but makes Ein’s skin crawl. When the boy’s ears begin to lay low and flat against his head you become noticeably amused. “What’s wrong? I thought you loved playing second fiddle to me?”

What little patience Ein has suddenly snaps. In a heartbeat the boy has you trapped between himself and the wall. He knows how much you hate it when he enters your ‘personal space’ or whatever you call it. Judging by the way your breath hitches, Ein knows he’s more than within the bounds of your ‘personal space.’

“Don’t make me put you in your place.” Ein mutters as presses himself between your legs. He allows his teeth to hover over the soft flesh of your neck and revels in the way your body trembles beneath his. “What am I saying… I bet you’d love that. Even now I can feel your heart trembling beneath me.”

“Speak for yourself.” You utter, your voice soft and breathless. “I’m not the one wagging my tail, little pup.”

[aechii]

₍⁠₍ OF LOVE AND FASHiON ₎⁠₎

A/N ?! last fic for the day booooo 😥 i dont know if i will be able to post any tmrrw, but i hope i can. anyways enjoy my lovelies

p.s. there's a little written part in this but it's abt 500-600 words

-

-

[y/n]'s heart's racing. every palpitation hammers against her chest with much force, so much so that her full-upon-entry water has decreased to less than half left in just 30 minutes. the heat still fused with the air, but as the sun begins to sleep, it loses its energy, leaving a cool undercurrent that presses into the skin of all the attendees. she's so glad about the cooler weather, finding it completely unfathomable how she would've coped if the heat joined tham at night as well.

but the man seated beside her crashes all of her composure, and her body begins to feel hot and strangled.

she hasn't seen such a visually blessed male specimen in all the years of her living, and the fact that his body was so close to hers because of the crammed seating made matters worse. she can't think, breathe or concentrate on the influx of dressed models that come and go non-stop.

"you look disgusted."

the voice comes from right beside her, and her head whips around, startled. the man that has enraptured her entire conscience smiles goofily at her, and her heart wavers.

"what? me?"

"yes," he chuckles softly, "you."

his eyes turn back to the show before them, yet he continues speaking before [y/n] can justify herself, "i don't blame you, though. some of the outfits are... questionable."

his facial expressions are priceless, and [y/n] falls into a bout of laughter, "you're sick!"

he looks on seriously, eyes flashing with extreme judgement, "i'm not lying! how does anyone find pairing a skirt and baggy trousers aesthetic?"

the combination, that [y/n] had, most likely, missed from being consumed by her thoughts, makes her grimace, "yeah, that wasn't a good look at all."

he turns back to face her and, god, he stares so intently that she has to look away.

"speaking of outfits, what brand you wearing? 'cause i know it's not lv for sure, i'm not seeing any," he thinks of the right words, "over exposure of the logo."

"that's one way to put it," [y/n] snickers, looking down at her outfit, "i made it all myself... apart from the shoes of course."

the boy is taken aback, mouth agape and eyes wide, "no way!"

she begins to feel flustered by his reaction and just smiles.

"that's so cool, honestly. i would take more pride in that than wearing a slutted out luxury brand."

"slutted out?" [y/n] can't believe her ears; he's going to kill her, she's sure.

"how the hell did you come up that?!"

the boy purses his lips, looking smug, "i'm just that amazing."

"you're delusional."

he pretends to think for a moment, "delusional enough to think i'd get your number?"

[y/n]'s eyebrows shot up, "you want... my number?"

he doesn't hesitate to nod, "i don't think i'll be leaving without it."

jobe, who had been painfully listening in on their conversation, decides to make himself apparent, "don't do it, you'll regret it."

she turns around, coming face to face with a younger boy who looks almost identical to the one she had been speaking with for the past 15 minutes.

"you two brothers?"

the older one responds, "yeah, he's a cockblock though, don't listen to him."

"cockblock? jude, i'm trying to save her life!"

ah, so that's his name.

"clear off, jobe," he rolls his eyes, turning back to the girl sitting beside him, "sorry about that- so, your number?"

"don't do it!"

and much to his dismay, she does.

-

y/n_l/n

liked by judebellingham and 23,899 others

y/n_l/n paris photo dump !! met some cool ass people there lowkey

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judebellingham was lovely meeting you, such a vibe 😆

y/n_l/n you too!! <3

yfn__ best time of my life honestly

y/n_l/n paris at night is a sight to see

user1 you look GORGEOUS

user2 i really missed pfw just a day after i left france </3

user3 JUDE????

user4 I'M ACTUALLY SO SHOCKED

user5 😮

user6 WE FOUND HERRRRR

user7 and jude beat me to it already 😐

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judebellingham

liked by y/n_l/n and 899,231 others

judebellingham ❤🇫🇷

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y/n_l/n love the after party candid, send it to me plz xx + tell jobe i'm sorry but not sorry

judebellingham you look so pretty in it ofc + he'll see it anyways xx y/n_l/n @/judebellingham stop plz 😭🛑 jobebellingham @/y/n_l/n buy me croissaints and maybe i'll forgive you

jadonsancho freshh 🔥

user1 who's that girl in the last pic????

user2 someone who he met at the lv show, got her number and everthingggg 😭

user3 AND SHE KNOWS JOBE TOO? that's my chance stripped unrightfully away from me </3

user4 icel, she's gorgeous AAAAA

user5 this is my 13th reason