#and shes watching him with those eyes...and shes lovin him with that body I just know it...

[bumblingbabooshka]

Tuvok is a friend. Yeah, I know he’s been a good friend of mine...

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 1: Break

A night out takes a turn. The first chapter of Yearling, a TLOU fan fiction. Find the Masterlist here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 5.6k

AO3 | Next Chapter

Friday, September 26, 2003

Dubois, Wyoming 

“They ain’t even that good,” you took a sip of beer, glaring at the girl in the short, white eyelet lace sundress standing near the band on stage. Your Texas accent got stronger when you were drunk. It also got stronger when you were pissed. You were speaking with a full blown drawl now. “I can play better n’them.” 

“Baby Doll, you can play better than everyone in town,” Justin leaned down, his head so close to you that you could feel his breath on your cheek, his lips brushing the shell of your ear when he spoke. His arm went around your waist. “Better than you is a damn a high bar…” 

You could hear the smile on his voice and you turned around in his arms to face him, eyes narrowed. 

“You’re lovin’ this,” you said. “I can tell, you’re just havin’ the time of your life…” 

“I ain’t gonna lie to you,” he smirked. “It is fun seein’ you get all worked up over a girl hittin’ on me.” 

“I am not!” You swatted his chest. “I just think it’s disrespectful, she saw me come in with you, she should know that you’re gonna dance with the one that brung ya…” 

“Hey,” he teased. “I brung you, not the other way ‘round…” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved him off, turning back around and taking another sip of beer just in time to see the girl in question heading to the bathroom with one of her friends. She looked a little green and you smiled a little. Served her right. You looked back up at Justin. “Don’t go thinkin’ you’re hot shit now just because I didn’t like some rancher’s daughter tryin’ to climb you like a tree.” 

“Oh I’d never dream that you thought I was hot shit,” he kissed your temple. “Don’t you worry. Need another?” 

“It’s Friday night and if I’m gonna listen to that band fuck up ‘Devil Went Down to Georgia’ you better goddamm well get me another,” you said. He just shook his head and worked his way up to the bar. You smiled a little, watching him go, rapping your fingers along the side of your almost empty beer bottle. 

You were getting attached to Justin. 

He’d started out as something fun to do over the summer when he showed up at the ranch you’d been working at for more than a year now. He was a few years older - not enough to make it scandalous but enough that he knew what the fuck he was doing. He was rugged and handsome and he was happy to buy you beer and whiskey because, at 19, getting your hands on the stuff was tricky. It had started in May with you fucking him. 

At first, that’s all it had been. After a few weeks of him staring at you when you were hanging tack back up at the end of the day, you all but cornered him in the barn. 

“You got some kind of problem with me, cowboy?” You snapped, getting so close to him that the brim of your hat almost caught his chin. 

“No I do not,” he replied. “Unless you count the fact that your ass looks way too damn good in those jeans to be doin’ nothin’ but ridin’ horses all day. Otherwise, I got the opposite of a problem with you.” 

“Oh,” you stepped back from him, looking him up and down. He was tall, broad, handsome. He reminded you a bit of the boy you’d lost your virginity to when you were 16 and he’d been working on your parents’ ranch back in Texas. “Well, I’m done for the day, headin’ back to my room. You’re welcome to join if you want to see what else I’m good at ridin’ on.” 

You turned and started off toward the bunkhouse. He scrambled to catch up with you and you smirked a little. He was definitely going to be fun. 

In August, he asked if you wanted to go to dinner sometime. You frowned, looking over at him, his naked body shiny with sweat. 

“Dinner,” you said, incredulous. “With me.” 

“That’s what I said,” he replied, looking over at you. “Unless there’s someone else you’d rather go to dinner with…” 

“You realize you’re already fucking me, right?” You frowned. “You don’t have to try.” 

“Oh trust me, I noticed,” he grinned, a little cocky. “But I’d like to do more than fuck you. So I’m askin’ you to dinner. Gonna try to make a proper lady outta you and all that.” 

You snorted. 

“No proper lady to be had here,” you said. “But… we can have dinner.” 

This was actual date number five. Not that the number of dates meant much when you were already screwing every chance you got. 

But you’d gotten to really like Justin, especially now that you were spending almost every spare second together. Maybe love him. A little. You’d cross that bridge when you came to it. 

“You know,” he came and pressed a new beer into your hand and took your empty bottle, putting it on a nearby table. “Bet you’d look pretty as hell in a little dress like that…” 

He ran his nose along your temple and you glared at him a little. 

“OK, first of all, it’s after Labor Day, wearin’ all white like that is tacky,” you said. “Second of all, you get frustrated when I take 10 minutes to tame my hair before we leave, you know how long it takes to look that put together? Longer than you want to wait, cowboy.” 

“OK well I’m dyin’ to know where you got that Labor Day thing from. But you’re prettier than her, so I’m sure it wouldn’t take you that long,” he said, smirking a bit. “And I’m not talkin’ about for every day. Maybe if we were to… I dunno… take a trip somewhere.” 

“A trip?” You smiled, brows raised. “You tryin’ to take me away from all this, that it?” 

“Maybe,” he winked. “Thinkin’ maybe a few days, we run away to a cabin on a lake, find some fun restaurants, I get to spend way more time kissin’ you than usual…” 

“Sounds good to me,” you were about to move to kiss him when there was a strange, snarling sound from over his shoulder. You frowned, leaning around him just as he turned to look. 

The girl from before - in the stupid white dress - flew at him, her blonde hair tangled, her fingers curved so her nails were more like claws. He stepped back, his hands going up to stop her but she didn’t seem to notice or care. 

She jumped, knocking him to the ground as you jumped out of the way, the girl ripping at his shirt before digging her bared teeth into his neck. 

“What the fuck!” You yelled, grabbing her by the hair and yanking her backward. She sprawled on the floor next to Justin for a second before she scrambled up onto all fours and tried to rush you. You took your half full beer bottle and throttled her on the side of her head, hitting her with every ounce to strength you had, sending her down to the ground, unconscious. 

“Shit!” A man near you looked between you and the girl. 

“Hey, she fuckin’ started it!” You snapped. “She just tried to take a chunk out of my boyfriend’s neck!” 

Someone else got down on the ground with the girl as Justin got to his feet. You looked at his throat, her teeth marks red and oozing. 

“Jesus, she got you good…” you frowned, leaning in close. 

“We should call the cops,” the man near you said. 

“And that’s our cue,” Justin took you by the elbow and started pulling you to the door. 

“Hey, we didn’t do a damn thing wrong,” you said as he dragged you along beside him. “She went fuckin’ nuts…” 

“Yeah but that’s your third beer of the night and you’re 19,” he said quickly. “Rather not get in trouble for buyin’ you booze…” 

“That’s the girl that hit ‘er!” Someone yelled. You looked up at Justin.

“Run!” Justin pulled you with him as the two of you took off, him clearing a path with you at his heels until you were in the parking lot, a handful of people on your tail. 

“Sure hope you ain’t drunk!” You said as you jumped into the passenger side of his rusted pickup. 

“Sober enough to get us outta this,” he said, turning the key and holding it until the old engine turned over with a growl. He floored it, nearly taking out the front of a sedan on his way onto the main road. 

He careened through town at 80 until the streetlights had faded in the distance and the sky was bursting with stars. 

“What the fuck was her problem?” You crawled to the middle of the bench seat and tried to get a look at his neck. “Maybe you should go to a hospital, this looks bad…” 

“I’ll just clean it up when we get back,” he waved you off. “I’m too eager to find out what kind of sex I get as your boyfriend…” 

“What?” You sat back, incredulous. 

“You called me your boyfriend back there,” he smirked. “I’m really ready to find out what that means once I’m in your bed…” 

“Oh, Jesus,” you shoved him playfully. “You got a one track mind. And you shouldn’t read too much into what I say when I’m defending myself because some psycho tried to take a chunk out of ya.” 

He winked and you rolled your eyes. 

The two of you made it back to your room without any more excitement - something you were plenty thankful for. Once you were inside, you took Justin’s plaid button down off and draped it over your worn wooden desk chair before getting out your first aid kit. You usually used it for patching up cuts when a horse did manage to throw you - a rare occurrence - or when you weren’t paying close enough attention and cut yourself on barbed wire - less rare. 

You frowned at the bite mark, the skin around it red and angry, as you cleaned it with rubbing alcohol and applied a bandage.

“This looks infected,” you said. “Really should take you to a hospital…” 

“Nah,” he waved you off. “I’ll go to a doctor in a day or two if somethin’ ain’t feelin’ right. I’m fine, Baby Doll, really.” 

He tugged you onto his lap and kissed your cheek. 

“You’re cute when you’re worryin’ though,” he smiled a little. “If I’d known all it took was some rancher’s daughter gettin’ handsy with me to get you to be all over me, callin’ me your boyfriend, I’d have done it sooner…” 

You rolled your eyes and shifted so you were less sitting on his lap and more straddling him and his hands went to your waist. 

“See if you were in a dress, this’d be easier…” 

You glared at him. 

“You’re not careful I’ll give you a matchin’ bite mark on the other side of your neck.” 

“Oh, from you, I’d welcome it,” he smiled, kissing you as he unbuttoned your shirt. 

You ground your hips down against his as he undressed you, his hands exploring you as he kissed you. Once you were bare from the waist up, he pulled you down on the bed and you crawled down his body, opening his pants and stroking his hardening length a few times before taking him in your mouth in one, swift motion. 

“Fuck, Baby Doll,” he groaned, one of his hands going to your hair. “Fuckin’ love your mouth…” 

You hummed in approval, making his legs twitch as you sucked him, bobbing your head up and down his length as his fingers dug into your scalp. You worked his cock until he pulled your head roughly away from him, panting for breath. 

“Really don’t want to come before I have a chance to properly fuck ya,” he said, grip loosening on your hair. 

“So demanding,” you teased, looping your fingers over the top of his jeans and boxers, pulling them both down his legs and leaving them on the floor. You took off your own jeans and underwear, too, and crawled up his body, leaning over him to grab a condom from your bedside table. He took one of your nipples into his mouth and sucked you as your breasts hung over his face, his fingers sinking into your hips. 

He reluctantly released you when you moved back down to straddle his thighs, opening the wrapper and sliding the condom on over his thick length. You looked at him naked in front of you and rubbed two fingers through your slit, spreading the wetness that had gathered there. 

“You gettin’ wet from suckin’ me off has to be the hottest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen,” his hands slid up your legs as he watched you arrange yourself over him. 

“I’m so busy thinking about this the whole time I can’t help it,” you said, breathless, as you sank down onto him. He groaned as you did, your body slowly and surely taking all of his cock into you. Your hips met his and you ground yourself down against him, his hardness just big enough to stretch you enough to satisfy. You rode him like that, rubbing your clit as you did, his hands on your hips as you worked yourself to an orgasm on his length, coming around him with a whimper. 

He took advantage of your orgasm and grabbed you, flipping you onto your back and driving into you as you rode out the last waves of pleasure, arranging your legs so he was pressing deeper. You groaned as he started to fuck you harder, faster, the force of it making your tits bounce. 

“Love seein’ you come on my cock,” he grunted. “Love seein’ how this tight little pussy takes me…” 

He ground himself in as deep as he could reach, your body tightening around him again. 

“Fuck, I love you,” he gasped it out as he started to come deep inside you, spilling into the condom. 

Your eyes went wide and your orgasm hit - soft and subdued but not entirely put off by his words. He collapsed beside you when both of you were spent, your own slick leaking out between your legs. You stared up at the ceiling. 

“Knew boyfriend sex would be good,” he teased, a little breathless and smiling at you. 

“Yeah, about that,” you said, propping yourself up on your elbows. “What did you say at the end there?” 

He frowned. 

“I said…” and his eyes went wide. “Oh shit… I didn’t mean… I don’t expect… Look, I…” 

“Did you mean it?” You asked, brows raised. 

He flinched. 

“Maybe,” he said. “But I wasn’t plannin’ on sayin’ a damn thing about it to you, alright? So please don’t freak out about this, OK? I feel like we’re in a good place…” 

“I…” you paused. “Well I dunno if I love you yet or not but… I do like you. A lot. You’re kind of my favorite person so… I might love you a little. But just a little.” 

You shrugged and fell back down onto your back. He smiled. 

“Well, you’re my favorite person, too.” 

“Don’t read too much into it,” you smiled a little. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Baby Doll.” 

He rolled over to kiss you before getting out of bed. You frowned. 

“Gonna go rinse off,” he said. “I’m feelin’… I dunno, just off.” 

“I’m telling you, that stupid bite is infected,” you called after him as he went to shower. You waited until you heard the water turn on and got out bed yourself, getting his shirt from the chair and shrugging into it. It hung on you and you had to roll up the sleeves. You smiled a little at the physical representation of him enveloping you, the shirt smelling like his cologne with the faint smell of hay below it - a smell he never seemed to really shake. You liked it. 

You got your guitar from its stand in the corner and settled back down on the bed, tuning it briefly before just noodling on it. You’d been experimenting with a combination of chords and the rhythm you could get from tapping on the guitar body itself. 

“That’s soundin’ good,” Justin said, coming out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. He got is boxers off the floor and stepped into them, draping the towel over the chair. 

“Thanks,” you said. “Not sure what I’m gonna do with it yet but something eventually… Feeling any better?” 

“Bit worse actually,” he frowned. “Maybe I should go back to mine, what if I’m comin’ down with somethin’. Don’t need to be gettin’ you sick, too…” 

“You were just inside me, Justin, whatever you got I’m gonna get,” you rolled your eyes. “Assuming it’s contagious and it’s not from that damn bite.” 

“She wasn’t rabid,” he teased, climbing into bed beside you. “Sure I just picked up somethin’ somewhere…” 

You put the guitar down beside the bed and curled into him, falling asleep breathing in the smell of hay on his skin. 

His twitching is what woke you up. 

“Justin,” you whispered, nudging him. He didn’t respond. “You’re dreaming, c’mon baby…” 

You gave him a shake but he didn’t wake up. You sighed and untangled yourself from him and the sheets. You grabbed your panties off the floor and ducked into the bathroom. If you were awake, you might as well pee. You did that, chugged a glass of water and went back into the bedroom. 

It was uncommonly dark, the new moon making it so there was almost no light coming in through your windows. You nudged Justin again as you tried to get under the covers. 

“Hey,” you shook him a little more firmly this time. “Baby, you’re dreaming something crazy…” 

He responded then, taking in a deep, raspy breath, his movements still sharp and jerky. 

“Justin?” You said quietly. “Hey, it’s me, it’s…” 

He shrieked, sounding like the girl at the bar and you shocked back from him, jumping away just as his fingers reached and groped for you. 

“This isn’t funny!” You yelled, stumbling over your guitar as you backed away from him. You squinted, barely able to make out his writhing in the bedsheets in the dark. “Justin, cut it the fuck out!” 

He just shrieked again before he fell to the floor with a thud, his breaths still coming in deep, rasping pants. 

“Justin?” You crept toward his side of the bed cautiously. He snarled and scrambled, on all fours, for you. 

It shocked you so much that he got ahold of your ankle, yanking you onto the ground so hard that it made your brain rattle in your skull, his fingers digging harshly into your flesh as he dragged you closer. 

You fought without really thinking about how or why or who, you just kicked as hard as you could with your free leg, catching the side of his head with your knee. He shrieked and released you and you scrambled back from him, pulling yourself up by your bed to run around to your nightstand. You yanked the middle drawer open - just below where you’d grabbed a condom just hours before to put on the man who was now bent on killing you - and pulled out your hand gun. 

“Justin!” You were crying. You almost never cried. You weren’t sure when you’d started. “Please! I don’t want to do this, please!” 

He snarled and lunged for you again and you pulled the trigger. He collapsed immediately and you screamed, fumbling to turn on the lamp on your side table. 

“Justin?” You got down on the ground next to him. You’d shot him in the chest, right by his heart. The rattling sound of his breaths were gone. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please…” 

You sobbed, instinctively trying to put his blood back inside of him. If you could just fix it, put it back together, he’d be OK, he’d wake up and be Justin again and everything would be fine. That had to be the way it worked, it was the only thing that made sense…

You barely noticed it, out of the corner of your eye. He’d pulled the bandage off his neck at some point, the violent bite mark on display and a fibrous, vine-like tendril reaching out from his throat. Reaching for you. 

You yelped and scrambled back from him, your gun still in your hand. The thing was still moving, with a mind of its own. 

“What the fuck?” You were panting for breath. His body twitched and you did the only thing you could think to do. 

You ran. 

“Help me!” You ran out front of the bunk house, gun still in your bloody hands. “Please! Help me!” 

You heard it before you saw it, the rattling breath and the inhuman snarl. Like the girl at the bar. Like Justin. 

It was Keith, one of the older ranch hands. He worked with the cattle. You’d almost never seen him so much as jog and here he was, running for you, snarling, his hands in a claw-like shape. 

“Stop!” You held up the gun. “I ain’t jokin’, I will shoot you!” 

He kept coming, the snarling getting louder. You fired, shooting him in the head by the glow of the light on the barn. He collapsed where he stood as you heard something crash against the door of one of the other rooms at the bunkhouse. Like someone was hurling their body against it, trying to break free. 

You looked around, frantic. There was only one thing you were sure of: you’d get torn apart if you stayed here. You didn’t know why, you didn’t know what caused it, but you knew you were going to die if you didn’t get away. 

You ran to the paddock where you’d been working with a horse, a filly who was just past her yearling stage. You’d been breaking her in, now that she was old enough, barely to dumb broke, just starting to carry a rider and learn commands. She was there, asleep in the grass. You jumped the fence, not wanting to risk going in the barn where there were sometimes still people, even at this hour. 

“Hey Nike,” you whispered. She roused with a whinny. You’d named her for the goddess of victory and you hoped that meant she’d help you win whatever the fuck battle was apparently happening here today. “We gotta get goin’ sweet girl…” 

You coaxed her to her feet and she shook her head, her mane bouncing. You jumped on her back and realized that you hadn’t even put on shoes or pants, you’d been in too big a hurry to get the fuck out of your room. But it wasn’t safe to go back, not now. You’d have to make do. You tucked your gun into the waistband of your panties. Nike pranced, impatient below you. 

“We’re gonna get the fuck out of here,” you said. “You and me.” 

You leaned forward and took some of her mane in each hand, one on each side of her neck. You couldn’t afford to go and get reins, you hoped this would be enough. 

“Lets see if we can make you a jumper…” 

You nudged her forward and got her moving. There was more snarling from the bunkhouse, louder now. Something must have gotten through a door… you shuddered, thinking about it. 

Once she was up to a good clip, you pointed her at the fence line and drove her to it, adjusting your weight and pulling back on her, hoping that she’d figure it out. 

She did, you barely hanging on as she sailed over the fence posts. 

“Good girl!” You said, driving her toward the woods at the edge of the property. “It’s you and me, Nike. You and me. We’re going to get through this, we’re going to get help, we’re going to get through this.” 

You said it more for you than your horse as you rode into the dark of the forest, the ranch and the bodies of the first men you ever killed behind you. 

*** 

Sunday, November 2, 2025

“Been quiet today,” Tommy said from beside Joel, the gentle crunch of the snow under the feet of their horses the only other sound on the cold air. 

Joel groaned. 

“Jesus, Tommy, why don’t you just ask for us to get swarmed by infected,” he glared at his little brother. 

“Don’t tell me you’re superstitious now, brother,” Tommy smirked a little. “You and I both know that whatever I say don’t got shit to do with anything that happens later.” 

“It will if I deck you for sayin’ stupid shit,” Joel replied. “And I ain’t superstitious, I’m just smart enough to not say somethin’ that goddamn dumb in the middle of a patrol.” 

The men were, at this point, about a four hour’s ride from Jackson, Wyoming. But they’d been taking it at a slow pace because - as Tommy had rightly and stupidly pointed out - it had been a quiet day. A quiet day in a quiet month. 

Raiders seemed to have gone dark - either hunkering down for the coming winter or migrating elsewhere. So had infected, though they knew they could put that on their migratory patterns. Stupid fungus was smart enough to know that the humans it occupied couldn’t hold up in extreme cold and that their host bodies would freeze and die if they stayed too far north during the winter. Things thinned out this time of year. 

“We should turn around and head back soon,” Tommy said. “We cut over a few miles, we’ll be able to sweep up and check a different area…” 

“You know this shit better’n me,” Joel shrugged. “Just don’t be surprised if we come up on a pocket of raiders now…” 

Tommy rolled his eyes as they rode up on a stream. He nudged his horse to follow it, cutting back toward Jackson. 

They’d only been following the path of the stream for about 20 minutes when Joel first noticed it. The sign of footprints, then blood. 

“Tommy,” he said quietly, nodding his head at it. 

“Shit,” Tommy sighed, shaking his head. 

“You said it was quiet,” Joel said, trying not to smirk at him. 

“Fuck you,” Tommy replied, steering his horse to follow the footprints. 

They didn’t have to go far, the snow growing steadily redder the further they went, until there was a body face down on the ground. 

Joel slid off his horse and crouched next to the man, checking for signs of life even though it was pretty obvious that there weren’t any. He rolled the man over. There was a sizable knife buried in the man’s chest but that’s not the thing that caught Joel’s attention. 

“Jesus Christ,” he looked up at his brother, still on horseback. “Tommy, look at this.” 

Tommy frowned, dismounting and squatting down next to Joel. 

“Oh fuck,” he said. “Was that… infected?” 

The man’s face had been nearly torn apart, nail marks like some kind of feral animal had gotten to him but they were distinctly human, little half-moon shapes dragged through his flesh that had gushed blood. He’d been alive when something - someone - got to his face.

“Ain’t ever seen one go at someone quite like this,” Joel said. “And infected don’t use knives…” 

“Maybe suicide if he got bit?” Tommy shrugged. 

Joel looked over the body and found a gun with plenty of ammo and nodded to it. 

“Well then, never mind,” Tommy frowned. “Jesus, he pissed off someone…” 

“The fuck knows who,” Joel said, looking him over more to see if he could find any signs as to where the man had come from. There were a few thick zipties in the man’s back pocket. Joel sighed and held them up for Tommy to see. “Well, probably plenty. I’m bettin’ he’s a raider, probably tryin’ to bring in someone who fought back a little harder than expected…” 

“Fuckin’ hell,” Tommy sighed, getting up again. “Grab the guns I guess, knife too. See if we can’t find who fucked him up.” 

The men mounted up again and rode on. They found another body, this one shot dead and not scratched to hell, though one look at the nails - free of blood and torn flesh - told Joel this was another raider and not who they were after. 

“Joel,” Tommy nodded at another set of tracks, starting with little drops of blood in the snow and coloring it more crimson as the path wore on. 

“Shit,” he sighed, steering his horse to follow the path. 

They didn’t need to go far. 

Ahead was a body in the snow, splayed out on the ground, splotches of red and pink around it. Joel dismounted and approached slowly. He could sense that this was different. This was who the raiders had been after. 

He moved cautiously, almost afraid to see what the raiders must have done to you if you’d done that kind of damage to them. You were bloody but he wasn’t sure the source of it from a quick glance. Your face was bruised and he could see signs of you being bound on your exposed wrist, the skin ringed in harsh and angry red. 

“Jesus,” Tommy breathed, coming up along side Joel. 

He noticed it then, the small, almost imperceptible movement of your chest. Joel tapped Tommy’s arm and nodded toward your torso. 

“Oh shit,” he said. 

Your eyes fluttered open and you took a sharp breath, struggling onto your elbows and hands, trying to drag your broken body back away from Joel and Tommy. 

“Woah!” Tommy held up his hands. “Not here to hurt you, you’re OK, we’re just gonna try to help…” 

“Fuck you,” you spat - literally, blood and spittle flying from your lips as you tried to get a full breath. “Don’t touch me!” 

“Hey,” Joel got down on your level, his hands up, and met your eyes. There was something in them that felt familiar. Something that he wanted to protect. “It’s OK. We’re not like them, those men back there. Guessin’ you killed ‘em?” 

You nodded once. Your eyes were so wide, you were so afraid. It reminded Joel of a baby deer, fragile and wild. 

“You did good, Bambi,” he said, keeping his hands where you could see them. “Fucked ‘em up real good. We’re from a settlement, few hours from here. It’s a good place, we’ve got a doctor who can help you…” 

“Can’t walk a few hours,” you said through gritted teeth. 

“I know,” Joel said, nodding to your torso. “Mind if I take a look? See where that blood’s comin’ from? I’m just gonna lift your shirt, not gonna touch you.” 

You looked at him for a moment before you gave him a stiff nod. He gingerly raised the bloody fabric - you weren’t wearing nearly enough layers to be out in this weather, just jeans, boots and a button down - and examined your stomach. There were two bullet holes there. He winced. He wasn’t a doctor but he knew getting shot in the stomach was bad. He noticed a raised scar on your hip, just below and to the left of your belly button, a branded letter M. His stomach turned. The fuck had happened to you? 

“It’s bad,” you managed. “Just shoot me, better… better than dyin’ with them.” 

“She’s right, Joel,” Tommy said, his voice low. “She’s lost a lot of blood, dragging her back to town’s just torture at this point…” 

You’d fallen back into the snow, struggling to breathe, your eyes closed. But he remembered your eyes, the warmth wrapped in something harsh and sharp. 

He realized then what they reminded him of, who you reminded him of. Tess. You were a survivor, like Tess. He hadn’t been able to save her, either. He’d failed her, too. 

“Bambi,” Joel said, just sticking with the name. He figured you’d offer your real one if you wanted to. You opened your eyes again. “Now, I’m gonna have to touch you for this but I’m gonna be as gentle as I can…” 

“Fuck you,” you winced. “Just…” 

“Not going to just let you die out here in the cold,” Joel shrugged out of his jacket and held it out to Tommy. “Gonna get you on my horse - it’s OK if you pass out, I’ll hold onto ya - and we’re gonna get you back with us.” 

“I don’t…” you began but Joel slid his arm below your legs and the other behind your ribs and he gently, slowly, lifted you into his body. You cried out in pain but he held onto you, putting you on the horse as best he could. 

“Sorry, Bambi.” You instinctively wrapped your fingers around the saddle horn as your body slumped forward and you whimpered. He mounted up behind you and held his hand out to Tommy, who handed him his coat. He draped it over your shivering frame and tugged you against him. Your head lolled back against his chest and you groaned. Your eyes were closed. He wondered if you were conscious. 

“This is damn stupid, Joel,” Tommy said, mounting his horse again. 

“Couldn’t just leave her out here,” Joel said. “You know we couldn’t.” 

Tommy sighed. 

“Let’s get back,” he said. “Maybe, by some miracle, this won’t all have been for nothin’.” 

“And you said it was a quiet day,” Joel said, starting off at a faster clip this time. 

Tommy sighed.

“Fuck you.” 

A/N: Hi everyone! Welcome to Yearling! I hope you've enjoyed it so far and that you'll come to love Bambi and Joel as much as I have as I've been thinking about and planning this story for the last month or so.

You can expect updates a few times a week here as I have brain rot and really only want to write this stuff :)

I'll start a tag list, please let me know if you'd like to be added!

Thank you so so much for reading! I hope you stick around and go on this journey with me. Love you!

Next Chapter

[melis-writes]

Ooh what about pregnant hormonal Victoria needing to have sex again with Sonny - and they do and it’s even better than when they did it in New York - she’s so much more sensitive and responsive, she needs him to dick her down so bad - Sonny loves how he’s got her pregnant and how even more beautiful she is, loving how her boobs are bigger etc. 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

By far the most popular kind of Victonny prompt definitely has to be pregnancy sex, and of course while Victoria’s pregnant with Sonny and her child. 😳😳 God… A Victonny prompt requested is a Victonny prompt granted. 🥵🔥

“Third times the charm, huh?” Sonny pulls at your silk nightrobe’s tie, loosening the fabric around you. “Especially on a day where Michael isn’t home.”

“Mm, well it’s not like I need to ask.” You blush, “maybe I’m an opportunist.”

“That you are.” Sonny chuckles quietly, gently brushing aside your night robe to reveal your naked body and five-month baby belly to him as Sonny hovers above you upon the velvet, chaise lounge.

“More than just that,” Sonny mumbles, placing his hands gently over your baby bump. “You’re beautiful.”

“Santino…” Your cheeks sting with blush as you watch Sonny softly caress your baby bump, looking up at you with such admiration in his eyes.

“With our baby.” Sonny’s eyes continue to wander over your body, unable to resist the urge of arousal tugging inside of him. “Fuck, you’re practically glowing, and…” Sonny raises your thigh up, hearing your dewy pussy lips spreading apart.

“Oh.” You clasp a hand over your mouth, glancing away out of embarrassment.

“Yeah…” Sonny smirks wryly—the sound of your wetness nothing but music to his ears. “You’re tellin’ me its all those pregnancy hormones.”

“Don’t believe me?” You whisper back as Sonny cups your breasts in his hands.

“Oh trust me, I do.” Sonny buries his face inbetween your tender, enlargened breasts sore to the touch—filled with milk for his baby. “It’s the only fuckin’ thing I wanna believe.”

“M-mm, gentle, baby…” You breathe out, clutching onto Sonny’s curls.

“Anything for you,” Sonny mumbles against your hot skin, letting his hands roam all over your body. “Want to keep mother and the baby safe and comfortable, only…”

Sonny raises his head up, massaging between your inner thighs and parting your pussy lips open again and again as he does so. “You just can’t enough of me, can you? Three times today.”

“Don’t tease me.” You whine, pulling at Sonny’s tie and pressing his body against yours. “I’ll have you as many times as I want again and again—I need you.”

“Yeah?” Sonny steals a wet kiss off of your lips before pressing his hands on your inner thighs to keep them spread while he moves his head downward between your legs. “Anythin’ you want, baby, anythin’. Maybe it’s best it’s not up to me, huh?”

Sonny sloppily kisses over your clit, letting his spit ooze between the folds of your pussy.

“O-oh my God!” You hold back a shrieking moan, instantly bucking your hips up to Sonny’s mouth in response.

“Ooh, sensitive.” Sonny chuckles, pulling off his belt with one tug; not that he had  much time to put it back on before you could hardly take the throbbing and demanding arousal inside of you.

“All these hormones…” You whimper out, “they’re doing a number on me already. I’ve never, you know—” You clasp a hand against Sonny’s shaft, looking him in the eyes as you stroke his cock. “Needed you so much, so badly, just—” You shake your head, pushing your hips against Sonny’s. “Please.”

“Alright baby, alright.” Sonny grins playfully at you, positioning his cock against your entrance. “You know I’m lovin’ every second of this. You want me so bad, huh? I’m not gonna keep you waiting.” Sonny thrusts into you with ease, embracing your body against his.

“God,” you moan, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “And not even twenty minutes ago we were…again…”

“Still filled with my cum.” Sonny tilts your chin down, keeping all of his movements gentle with you. “Don’t think you’ll ever not be pregnant with me.”

“I don’t c-care. I love when you cum inside me.” You breathe hotly against Sonny’s lips, digging your nails into the fabric of his dress shirt as he begins to dip his cock in and out of you.

“I’ll glady do—ah!” You cry out, spreading your legs open as far as you can throughout each deep thrust, “it again—ohhh! And again! I want—to carry your babies!”

Sonny thrusts at an upward angle, keeping all ten inches of his rock hard thickness in you with each and every thrust—obsessed with the way your pussy contracts against his shaft.

“Now whose teasing who?” Sonny plants two wet kisses over your nipples, giving them a gentle squeeze. “I don’t care what anyone says—mmm, you’re mine, Vic. Mine to fuck, mine to love, pregnant with my baby. Fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

Sonny’s hips snap back and forth into yours as he squeezes his eyes shut—beads of sweat beginning to form over his forehead.

You refuse to stay quiet, letting every filthy moan demanding for more of Sonny’s cock come out of your mouth, desperate to feel thrust after thrust. “Yes, YES! W-want you, want you!”

Every inch of your body feels a fire of arousal spreading over it, causing you to curl your toes and build up an intense orgasm much faster than before you were pregnant.

“Such a heavenly fucking pussy.” Sonny grabs both of your thighs, clasping both of your legs up together and putting them over his shoulder—fucking you at an entirely new angle.

“M-My God—” You squeal, shakily glancing down to see a mixture of Sonny’s cum and your wetness smeared over his cock. “F-fuck me! Don’t stop!”

“Obsessed with my cock, aren’t you?” Sonny gives your thighs a gentle smack, obsessed with the sight of your body so plump and full from carrying his child. “I told you, baby, I told you."

“Did you—” Your eyes snap open as you let out a gasp throughout your moan.

“Ohhh yeah, baby, I did.” Sonny presses his forehead against yours, ruthlessly picking up his pace and deepening his thrusts. “Fucking came inside of your pussy—don’t bother to count, I’m not gonna stop.”

“Don’t stop,” you beg, unable to stop the whimpers and whines escaping your lips from the sloppy fucking. “D-don’t stop, don’t stop! Oh God, I want that fucking cock in me so bad—fuck me harder!”

Fourty-five minutes into the heated fuck session without a care for anything else in the world, Sonny’s still buried in your pussy with his continued arousal surging his stamina.

Spurts of Sonny’s hot, thick cum smear all over your pussy, dripping out of it and only being pushed back in with each thrust—dripping all over the velvet chaise.

With each push of Sonny’s cock inside of you, you cry out his name again and again, hearing how soaked your pussy is—squelching and sloshing around Sonny’s cock that has your wetness dripping off of his shaft.

“Again, a-again,” you pant against Sonny’s lips, feeling another dozen spurts of cum spewing inside of you.

Sonny licks over your lips, ramming his cock into you again and attempting to catch his breath. “Barely getting started, baby.”

[crosseddestiny]

@athrecs liked for a manfred singing starter!

Manfred slid across the kitchen floor in his socks, hands outstretched and snatching up the old radio off the counter. Sure, he could download Spotify and make a playlist, but there was something nostalgic about being at the mercy of a radio hosts spontaneous song choices that came on through the airwaves. Plus if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Xylda would have been proud to see him still using it. Saves him a bit of money too.

He’d heard the announcer say what was about to come on, and grinning widely, he turned it up just a bit before putting back down. As soon as the first few seconds of the song hit his ear, he grabbed a wooden spoon out of the jar holder and held it to his lips. Completely forgetting he had a house guest that had been staying with him for a while…

“Jessie is a friend. Yeah, I know, he's been a good friend of mine,” Manfred sang along into the spoon, his boxer covered butt bounced in time to the tune. “But lately something's changed that ain't harrrd to define, Jessie's got himself a girl and I want to make her mine!” Dramatically he spun around as the music did, free arm draped against the counter.

“And she's watching him with those eyes!” He fluttered his lashes, head tilted slightly back, gaze going to the ceiling. “And she's loving him with that body,” Free hand lifted up from against the counter and came to trace down the side of his bare chest, and stopped at his hip, “I just know it!” His arm followed the lyrics and slid around himself as he continued, “Yeah, and he's holding her in his arms late, late at night! You know, I wish that I had Jessie's girl, I wish that I had Jessie's girl. Where can I find a woman like that?”

There’s a beat in the song where he bops his head, then straightened, both hands holding the spoon now, “I'll play along with the charade. There doesn't seem to be a reason to change. You know, I feel sooo dirty when they start talking cute! I wanna tell her that I love her, but the point is probably moot! ‘Cause she’s watching him with those eyyyyyyyes! And she’s lovin - ” Movement caught his attention, and the song all but became forgotten as he straightened, lowered the spoon, and cleared his throat, acting as if he hadn’t been busted.

“Mornin’, want a coffee?” Was he turning bright red? Yes. Was he aware he was half naked? Also yes. Mortified, he quickly turned back toward the counter, and shut off the radio, then reached for the French press. “I – uh… I’ll get this started, then go get dressed - ”

[josiebelladonna]

paraselenae | mirage

pairing: alex skolnick x fem!ocs (love is not enough)

genre: hardcore erotica

fandoms: testament

*18+ only; minors dni*

Warnings: sex in front of a mirror

*Please note that you are responsible for your own media consumption. I came here to write and relax, not police you.*

Summary: alex and q at the santa cruz boardwalk (for @teababe27 💜)

Word Count: 3078

Q was woken up the sound of a knock on the hotel door panel. Jay was still sleeping in the bed right next to her, and thus, she climbed out of the bed with one foot over the other down onto the floor. It had been a long trip out to the California coast prior to then, and the two of them needed some time alone to rest and recharge before they did anything else, and anything that involved the making of their money back in any way possible. But she wondered if it would be anything urgent as she padded across the carpet to the door there. 

She peered through the peephole, and her heart skipped a few beats when she recognized that little tuft of gray hair at the top of a helmet of black curls as well as an aquiline nose from the side. She opened the door part of the way, and he turned his attention to her and showed her a little smile. 

She brought a finger to her lips, to which he nodded his head at her. 

“We have to keep quiet,” she whispered to him. 

“Why is that?” 

She gestured back behind her, and he gasped at the sight of Jay laying there on the bed by the window. 

“She had a long night,” Q explained, still in a soft whisper. “We came out here and—you know what, I have a better idea.” 

She stepped outside and almost shut the room door all the way right behind her. She stood before him, complete with the crown of her head right up to his chest; she gazed up at him and their eyes locked, like they had never locked with one another before then. 

“Jay and I came out here just yesterday, and she was pretty much beat,” she explained, that time in a louder tone of voice, and then she nudged a lock of hair back from the side of her neck and raised her head for a look up at him. “I can be happy to do something for you, though.” She showed him a smile. 

“I’m kind of in the mood for a little lovin’,” he confessed to her with a shrug. 

“Okay. Uh—where would you like to go?” 

“Well, I'm feeling a little hungry right now.” He rested a hand on his smooth flat little washboard of a belly. “What say you and I have something to eat together and we can bring something home to sweet Jay in here?” 

She squinted her eyes at him, and then she reached up and rested her hands upon his shoulders for a light little massage. She moved in closer to his body to better feel the warmth that radiated out from his chest and his little belly. Q raised herself up onto her toes to give him a gentle kiss on the side of the neck, as she had missed the bottom of his cheek as part of her proper hello to him. 

“Here, lemme help—” He bent his knees so she could have a better caress of his face. She closed his eyes as she gave him the softest kiss by far on the side of his cheek, such that it coaxed a sweet little smile out of him. She gave him another one, complete with one hand pressed onto his chest to feel his heartbeat as well as that tender warmth from inside his stomach. 

“I have a better idea,” she told him, right into his ear and in a hushed voice. He licked his lips and opened his eyes for a look into her own; she raised her hand from his chest so as to hold his face and feel the soft skin on his jaw. 

“We’re not too far from the boardwalk,” she informed him. “There’s a whole little amusement park there—I don’t really know it very well. This is Jay’s neck of the woods but I don’t really feel like waking her up, though.” He stood up all the way right next to her, and she ran her fingers through her soft locks. “We can bring her a funnel cake—she absolutely loves those.” 

“Really?” he chuckled. 

“Oh, yeah! You should see her with one of them—it's like watching a little girl eat something sweet and decadent at her grandparents’ house.” 

He chuckled at that, a nice hearty little bounce of a chuckle that seemed to come from somewhere deep within his little belly. He then ran his fingers through his black curls and reached into his pocket for something; Q led the way away from the hotel and he put on his sunglasses. 

The sun hung high in the sky over their heads as they walked along the boulevard towards the sight of the ocean at the far end. He peered around them to the long low buildings that lined the block: right at the next corner up stood a little open-air surf shack with a rack of sunglasses out in the front there before the entrance. 

“You know, I could use a new pair for myself,” he told her as they neared the entrance of the shop. He picked off the pair near the top of the rack, and showed her the mirrored lenses. 

She nodded her head and showed him a smile. 

“I like those,” she said. “They fit your face nicely. You know what else fits your face nicely?” 

He took them off and she showed him a pair of rectangular regular glasses, which albeit had a slight violet tint to the lenses. He put them on and her face lit up at the sight of them. 

“Oh, god, so cute!” she proclaimed. 

“You think so?” he asked her with a raise of his eyebrows. 

“They’re so utterly adorable on you!” He turned to the small mirror at the top of the rack for a look himself, and he showed his reflection a little smile. 

“I guess they are quite nice on me,” he remarked. “I saw there was one of those quick glasses places up the street. Those guys’ll change the prescription in like an hour or something like that.” 

“Oh, absolutely,” she said as she took out her wallet from the front pocket of her jeans. 

“You got it?” he asked her. 

“I’ve got you and Jay both covered several times over,” she assured him. 

Once she had paid for his glasses and sunglasses, they walked on towards the end of the block, where they were met with another narrow street plus a cream-colored fence across the pavement from them. He turned his head to find the back end of the roller coaster right behind the fence as well as a handful of trees and a few long, low buildings on the other side. Thus, was the boardwalk. 

He was eager to make his way inside as the two of them made their way through the entrance and into the actual wooden part of the boardwalk itself, nestled between four carnival games and some cotton candy. The bright colors of the balloons and the candy, the smell of the cooking sugar and the popcorn, the swarming, ballooning feeling of innocence all around him... it was all so nostalgic for him as he remembered the fair and few days as a young boy where he and his parents would go across the country just to go to Coney Island as well as the park back up home in San Francisco. 

“This way, this way...” she coaxed him away from the front entrance of the boardwalk towards the center where the walkways met up with one another. It was right then he spotted the place with the churros and the funnel cakes off to the left of them. The roller coaster right next to the fence was already in full swing right behind them, and yet, Q seemed to have another idea for them. 

“Before we have any fun and games here, I want to take you somewhere near and dear,” she quipped to him, and she took him by the hand once again, and she led him through the small clusters of people for the day, back towards the roller coaster and those long low buildings in question, particularly to the one on the right. 

It stood far removed from the roller coaster with a view of the ocean, and right near another small stand that sold bunches of brightly colored cotton candy and bags of popcorn: the hypnotic smell of both followed the two of them up to the ramp and the walkway around the perimeter of the building itself. He tucked a lock of hair behind his ear and licked his lips: the smells were almost too much to bear for him. One appetite had to be settled first, however. 

Q led him to the narrow doorway of the house of mirrors, to which he found himself surrounded by himself. Those same blue eyes that gazed back at him. The plume of gray upon his head that seemed to float around him like the wisps of smoke from a fledgling fire. 

“Whoa,” he remarked. 

“Yeah. I remember the first time we came in here and she and I were trying to chase one another in here.” 

He chuckled at that as he took a glimpse up above them, to the mirrors on the ceiling. Luckily, the floor was made of rickety, slightly aged wood covered in a dark carpet, but he was curious about the rest of the house as Q reached out before her to touch the mirrors all around her. 

“There is something weirdly unsettling about this,” he confessed to her in a low voice. 

“Unsettling but also hypnotic,” she retorted; they hung a left and the next corridor over had mirrors on the floor. There was no one else in there with them. 

The two of them stood there in the middle of the mirrors, surrounded by themselves, shown themselves to each other in infinite fashion. Q glanced up at him and the eternal row of his jet-black curls and ocean blue eyes reflected back to back right behind his head, and he showed her a playful, lopsided little smile. 

“We’re all alone in here,” she told him. 

“Indeed, we are,” he remarked, and he lowered his voice a bit. She licked her lips, and he raised his gaze to the eternal row of her smooth hair and soft eyes reflected upon each other right behind her head, as well as his own reflection in junction with her. It was too much and yet not enough all at the same time. 

“We should—” She cracked him a smile, and he raised his eyebrows at her. 

“You sure you wanna do that, Q?” 

“Positive.” 

“But what about Jay, though?” 

“What about Jay? She's sleeping, and she won’t mind, either.” 

“And also, what about in here?” he asked her. 

“What about this place?” She chuckled at that, a light little chuckle that sounded like a pair of wine glasses clinking together. “Let’s do it on the mirror here, and the mirrors across from us can show off everything about us.” 

He swallowed and inched back to the mirror behind him. He glanced all around him to the mirrors on the walls. His reflections upon reflections, the mirrors upon mirrors. Surrounded by himself and by reflections upon reflections of Q and her head of smooth light hair and her sturdy little body. 

“Is it driving you crazy, big boy?” she teased him. “Is our love driving you up the wall?” 

“Why would it drive me up the wall?” he asked her, befuddled. 

“Because we’ve been told that we’re too much, especially Jay herself.” 

“You ladies aren’t too much for me,” he told her, and his voice lowered once again just so the echo across the mirrors would subside away enough to warrant themselves moments of silence in an otherwise public place. He took his glasses off his face and tucked the earpiece down the collar of his shirt, and all the while, he showed off his Adam’s apple to her. He then lowered his gaze to her and parted his lips, as if he beckoned her for all the kisses in the world, all the love in the world. 

“If anything—I don’t think either of you can handle me,” he whispered right into her face. 

“Nonsense,” she quipped back to him in a near whisper. 

“Let me ask you a question, dear Q,” he began again. “How do you feel about all these reflections around us?” 

“I feel like I'm dancing on the back of a kaleidoscope,” she told him, “and you’re at the helm of it all. You're the glass, my dear baby boy. The glass, the heart of it all—” She moved in closer to his face and the reflections of her head did as well. At the center of it all, and yet the whole entire thing seemed to blend into itself. If neither of them knew better, they swore that one of those reflections were at the center of it all and not the two of them. They were all following each other, in one big symphony, one big optical illusion, one big mirage. 

She gazed into his eyes, big and blue and voluminous, out there in the open without the glasses on for all the souls to behold themselves through the mirror’s image all around them. 

An eternity and yet one at the same time. 

Every reflection did the same thing: the same kisses, the same caresses, the same unbuttoning of his jeans to reveal his burgeoning erection and her fondling him to move it forth a bit more so she could grind him. Every single one, bounced upon itself to the point that he swore it was choking him. 

He shot his arms up in the air so she could better feel his body. Every reflection upon itself. All a mirage and the feeling that it was really happening all at the same time. Her warmth and her dampness pressed upon the full length of his dick as she bound down upon him the way that she knew so well. 

He pressed his head to the wall behind him, as did every reflection around them. It was almost too much to bear, too much to feel, too much to consider and take within himself, such that he didn’t know if he was the one reaching his climax or the field of souls all around him. Q parted her lips and breathed into his; he then reached down between her legs for a feeling under her hood to make her do it again, and that time for each reflection to hear her. 

She tipped her head back as his index finger caressed over that little nub there. She breathed harder, and harder, and more so as he dug deeper within her for another burst of that euphoric feeling. The feeling that no other man or boy could ever give to her or Jay up to that point. 

She let out a low sigh, followed by a gentle moan that echoed over the mirrors all around them, and he cracked her a smile as a result of the feeling that he would always bestow onto her. The feeling that would never escape either of them, lest love ravage them both down the line. And yet, somehow, he knew that the three of them would always find their way back to each other. Back to the cozy room. Back to the mirage all around them. 

Q leaned forward and rested her head upon his chest to hear his heartbeat, and then she remembered that he had his glasses tucked down right there. She raised her head and gazed straight into his face yet again. 

“Let’s go back to privacy,” she coaxed him in a soft voice. 

“Of course,” he replied, and the tone of his voice was still low and husky. She ran her fingers down his chest onto his stomach, and he knew that they would be packing in the funnel cakes soon enough. 

“Let’s also have a little fun here, too,” he said. “We are at the boardwalk—California's Coney Island.” 

“It really is! At least, that’s according to Jay.” 

“Okay, now—how do we find our way outta here?” he asked her, that time with a clearing of his throat. 

“This way—” Q took him by the hand and guided him along the wooden floor towards the mirror that faced them straight on, and she hung a left down the next corridor. The house of mirrors became a maze right before their eyes. 

And yet, she managed to bring them to the centerpiece of the house, the room with the vast mirrors and the small ones piled on top for one great big mirage right before their eyes. He squeezed her hand a bit, and then he lifted up her hand for a kiss on the back. A soft warm blush crossed her face and the mirrors showed it off to the two of them to witness for themselves. 

“I think it’s this way, big fella,” she coaxed him, and she led him off to the left, and indeed, there was the other entryway which led out of the house of mirrors and back into broad daylight. 

A ride on the roller coaster, a dart game for a pair of teddy bears, one for Q and one for Jay, and then some plates of funnel cake back to the hotel room, and they returned to the hotel room, where Jay herself had woken up and showered off. 

When Q unlocked the door, they were greeted by her wrapped up in her bathrobe and a towel coiled upon her head to keep her hair off her neck. 

“Oh, hello, cutie pie,” Jay greeted him, and he nudged the black frame up the bridge of his nose. 

“I like them, too,” Q said with a quick nod. 

“Bespectacled is a really good look for you,” she told him with a wink. Q sauntered over to her with her teddy bear in hand for her, and she whispered something into her ear. Jay shot out her tongue and wrinkled her nose at that. Q then turned back to him for a flash of her eyebrows, and he lowered his glasses frames just to flash them both a wink as well. 

[stripperblvd]

Heyy so sorry about your break up but hey hot girl summer. Anyways can I make a request for plus sized fem!reader x Eddie Munson. Him showing her that he doesn’t care what she looked like and all that jazz. Feel better 😽

Precious (Eddie Munson x plus sized!reader)

Warnings: Body image issues, mentions of food restriction, slight mention of maybe some action. 

Word Count: 2k 

Eddie couldn’t wait to get his hands on you. After so many practices and a shit ton of planning for Hellfire, he finally had the time to spend a full weekend with you. It just made it even better that your parents had left for just a little under a week, meaning the entire weekend could be spent in each other's arms, wasting the hours entangled in a cocoon of love and adoration, Eddie’s giddy mannerism visible a mile away. He was hoping to spend this friday’s evening simply resting on your chest, or maybe have you curled up on his lap while the two of you watched whatever the fuck Robin and Steve had recommended at the Family video, maybe even get himself some lucky time with you. Truly he couldn’t be more excited. 

Hearing his van pull up you perked up, turning the stove off and pouring the hot water that had been previously boiling into a long pitcher with some sweet flavored tea to leave cooling for tomorrow's iced tea batch. You placed your hands over the steaming liquid, chasing away the early December cold from your hands as you heard the door open, heavy footsteps following and closing in on the room you were currently standing in as the lock was heard being placed, a grin spreading itself naturally on your face. 

“My queen! I have returned!” Eddie yelled, dramatically jogging to the kitchen, and setting down a bunch of bags on the table before slumping on the kitchen’s refrigerator, holding his hand tightly to his chest. He looked at you with a look of desperation, facial features twisting to form an incredibly exaggerated face of exhaustion. “C’mere baby, I’m in serious need of some lovin.” he smirked, finally standing to his full height, lanky limbs allowing him to be a good few inches taller than you. You couldn't help the giggle that bubbled up in your throat, walking slowly and tauntingly as he whined, making those adorable grabby hands. In a flash he ran to you, grasping your body close to his and encasing you in his musky aroma, his hair tickling you as your arms wrapped around his waist. 

“Got’cha pretty girl.” he whispered, arms around your neck as his hand slowly made its way to your chin, lifting it slightly to pucker his lips towards yours. “Mm, looks like it huh?” you smiled, closing your eyes and feeling his pretty kisses, all over your face and finally, on your lips, your mouth moving in sync with his as he pressed his hand to your cheek, his other one dropping to your lower back and pressing you even further into him, your frames molding to each other’s silhouette, warmth spreading all over your chest. 

“I got us the munchies, some movies, snacks for later and I also got some of that pie that we get down at Tony’s” he smiled, pulling apart from you only slightly so that his words wouldn’t slur against your lips. Your smile dropped slightly, but you fully broke away, turning to the sink. “Yeah, okay baby you can go put the stuff in my room, I’ll bring plates and cups.” you said, leaning over the small cave in the counter. He came up behind you, kissing the top of your head and then placing his hand right over your tummy, kissing your cheek. “I’ll be waiting for you then.” he said, the rustle of plastic wafting through the space as you heard him leave the room, treading hastily to your bedroom on the second floor. 

You couldn’t help the slight tremble that made your elbows give out slightly. A deep breath being taken right into your lungs as you closed your eyes momentarily. Opening them again only to reach to the small door right in front of you and swinging it open, reaching for two plates and another couple of plastic cups for you and your Eddie.  Your stomach twisted as you made your way up to where Eddie was. Your feet entered the room, bending your leg once you were inside to fully close the door, a habit that you knew you didn’t exactly have to keep up since no one would be in your home other than you and your boyfriend for the next few days. 

A grin couldn’t be helped as you saw your pretty boy, rummaging through a KFC bag and pulling out a fry that he quickly popped into his mouth, turning his big floof of hair towards you and looking at you with slightly wide eyes as a smile crinkled the sides of his cheeks, a dimple winking at you from his face before he laughed. “Couldn’t help myself babe. But look,” he said, showing you the cover of a film, likely whatever Steve and Robin had put on his check out list. It was a copy of Chainsaw Massacre, a film you both loved due to its very comical depiction of horror, well comical according to Eddie. 

“Least they didn’t put some random fucking animal documentary.” he laughed, chewing the fry in his mouth and going over to your TV stand to start putting the tape in so you two could comfortably watch it. You took a moment to look at him. His hair was less frizzy than usual, probably because the cold really did help his brown curls, he had kicked off his boots, leaving him in just his jeans and beloved Hellfire shirt, his leather jacket and patch vest neatly placed on top of the chair in front of your desk. His ringed fingers toyed with the player, back hunched as he bent to get a better view of all the buttons. “If you keep staring at me I’ll get a boner princess.” he laughed, not taking his eyes off the player but feeling your intense stare. 

“Didn’t realize looking at my boyfriend was a crime.” you whispered, setting the plates at the edge of your bed, and taking a crossed legged seat on your mattress. Another laugh, and you heard a click as he pressed play, allowing the beginning of the movie to start. Eddie walked over, placing the food in the middle of the bed and taking out pieces of fried chicken, allowing them to rest on their respective plates as he poured some fries into your plate first, setting the second half on his and grabbing ketchup packets from the bottom of the bag. “Got mash in there too if you want it.” he spoke, words slightly muffled by the packet of condiment between his teeth as he ripped it, spreading the red sauce on a place where he could successfully bite without making a big mess. “Okay.” you smiled, his hand quickly pulling you towards him as the movie started. 

Nearly 15 minutes in and he had already finished his piece and some fries, your plate still nearly full as you toyed with a little piece of french fry, having only eaten maybe a couple, your piece of chicken still intact. You hoped he wouldn’t notice, but you knew it was inevitable, especially when he looked over at you, frowning. “What's wrong.” he said, scrambling off to pause the film before pushing the meal to the side and sitting on his knees before you. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, faking an innocent little miniature smile as you tilted your head towards him. “Don’t do that baby, you know what I mean. I bring over a tub of your favorite chicken and you can barely touch it? So tell me, what’s wrong, is it midterms?” he asked, placing his hands on your thighs, making your cringe a little. He noticed it, looking down at your bottom half, which was exposed to him from your sleeping shorts, giving them a small squeeze. 

You couldn’t keep up with his intense stare, opting to fidget with your hands instead, picking at a little scab you had on your thumb. You could feel his intense gaze on you, much like he had felt yours on him prior to settling down. It was useless to try and fight it, knowing Eddie he’d probably drop it when hell froze over. But you couldn’t bring yourself to admit exactly what it was, choosing a more subtle approach. 

“It’s just, ya know. Maybe I should cut back on the junk food a little.” you shrugged, looking up at him momentarily but quickly looking away as he frowned, leaning towards you a little. “The hell are you talking about.” his voice was truly just above a whisper, confused as to why you would say something like that. 

“Well, you know. I mean look at me. Wouldn’t hurt to cut a couple of pounds.” you whispered, feeling the slightest hint of tears hitting your eyes, just small enough to blink back before he could see the fall. Eddie was taken aback, his heart breaking as he looked at the girl he loved, hiding herself more and more from him as his silence filled the room like a stone clogging a small little stream of water. He felt horrid, not knowing when these thoughts had started festering in your mind, but hating himself for not noticing when it happened, allowing them to simmer in your brain and influence your actions. He could have that, pulling you towards your door, where your full view mirror hung. 

“Who’s that in the mirror?” he whispered, forcing you to look at him through the reflection as he wrapped his arms around you, settling his chin on your shoulder, allowing his brown mop of hair to settle between you and him. “It’s us.” you said, now it was your turn to be confused, why was he doing this. 

“Damn right it’s us. Eddie and Y/N, my Y/N, my beautiful,” he paused to place a kiss on your shoulder, “Perfect,” another small one on your neck, and lastly one on your cheek as he finished his sentence, “Amazing girlfriend.” 

You wiggled slightly in his warm embrace, feeling the trace of a small grin growing on your face. He spoke again, “I don’t care what the fuck caused this pretty little head of yours to think that. Look at me.” he said plainly, forcing you to lock an intense stare with him through the reflective surface of your mirror. “But it’s all bullshit. Bullshit okay? You’re perfect, you’re perfect in every single way and I’m stupid lucky to be able to call you mine. So what if you’re not thin like those cheerleaders at school or those girls in a magazine. That doesn't mean you aren’t gorgeous, my love. My baby girl is the prettiest, hottest and down right most drop dead beautiful girl in all of Hawkins.” His words made your heart clench as he squeezed you tighter, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “My princess is so so so gorgeous, I love every single part of you, I love your body, I love feeling you on me when we sleep, I love holding you when we’re out. Andddddd, I love making love to you.” he smirked, making you close your eyes and slap his forearm. 

“Eddie!” you shrieked, laughing a little with how romantic and forward he was being. “It’s true! It’s all true.” he exclaimed, turning you around and blindly walking backwards, setting you on the bed and kneeling before you. “I don’t want you to ever bring yourself down like that, understand?” he said, looking up at you, eyes growing with what you could only describe as adoration, a look that forced you to nod your head, believing each word that he had just uttered on your behalf. 

It didn’t take long for his lips to find yours, kissing you sweet, slow, like he had just returned from war and he couldn’t wait to once again taste you. When you broke apart, he climbed back into bed with you, sitting with his back to the headboard as he guided you between his legs, hands settling on your waist. 

“Now, eat baby, I didn’t freeze my ass off driving to that place for my girl to deny my humble offering.” he smiled, handing you your plate, and grabbing his own to settle with as he grabbed the remote to play the movie. 

You cannot convince me that Eddie wouldn’t swoon if his girl had thick thighs, no feeling insecure in this household, Edward Munson ain’t picky when it comes to his baby.

7-18-22

[country-n-sassy]

Feeling cute today. Headed into work for a few hours, then going to find some sunshine 🌞 I hope all my Tumblr friends are having a great weekend 😊

Side note... I love this song, but does it make anyone else wonder why 'Jessie's Girl' has a feminine spelling? Shouldn't it be 'Jesse's Girl'? No? Nobody else? Just me? Well, ok then.... continue your scrolling.

And she's watching him with those eyes

And she's lovin' him with that body, I just know it

[foli-vora]

danger! high voltage

A/N: So uh, I don’t know. I thought my threesome lactation fic was the filthiest thing I’ve written but uh... this might take the birthday cake. Absolute fucking filth. It’s all my favourite things, and some fun extras, thrown into one long ass piece with my newly favourite 6′2 military himbo as a present to myself so... happy birthday me lmao. ENJOY ANGELS!

Dedicated to the ever wonderful @charnelhouse​

Pairing: Rick Flag x metahumanf!reader

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: swearing, obs it me. THE SUICIDE SQUAD SPOILERS (a few scenes from the movie but nothing detailed) SMUT 18+ ONLY. Jesus okay—slight dom/brat vibes, fingering, hand job, electro stimulation, oral sex (f receiving), titty lovin’ (rough handling/pinching/biting), choking, spanking, unprotected p in v sex, rough sex, overstimulation, hair pulling, semi public sex, spitting, anal play/fingering, creampie, cum eating... (if I’ve missed anything, let me know!)

I blame this on the yellow tee + cowboy hat combo. Also, this is my first time with Rick and the DCEU so uh... sorry lmao.

+++

Fucking yellow.

Yellow.

And eight sizes too small—not that you were complaining. It was the stupid hat that was doing it, though. Why did it look so fucking good? You find yourself tossing up what you prefer, the stupid hat and tee combo or the downright delicious vision you were greeted with when you found him—

Before. It was hard to feel remorseful for the unnecessary… brutality unleashed on the camp when he’s walking around like… well, like that. A damn treat. You should put in a word with Waller—no more shirts for Flag, and you’ll do whatever fucking bizarre mission she throws at you no questions asked. 

“Colonel,” you greet with a sarcastic little two fingered salute when he’s in ear shot, eyes flicking over his bare torso with a lick of your lips. “Lookin’ good.”

It’s all playful. It wasn’t the first time you’d had Flag on a mission, and poking him was something you’d taken an extreme liking to. He was a good sport about it—not like the other toffee nose higher ups that were too good for a bit of harmless banter. He wasn’t above chuckling at one of your shit jokes, or accepting comments about his appearance with a polite nod of thanks. 

Now is apparently not one of those times. He shifts, brows pulling together into an almost apologetic wince and the resistance lady beside him whirls on you. She scoffs in what seems like disgust, eyes narrowing sharply at you before she breezes past without a word.

Your gaze follows her before you blink in surprise, turning on him in question. “What?”

“Not really the best time.” Flag mutters, eyes falling on the blood and bodies scattered around the camp.

You frown defensively, following his line of sight. “Well I didn’t do that.”

He levels you with a look that just screams ‘bullshit’ and you grin, yielding with a little shrug.

“I didn’t do all of that. I did that, and that one… and those over—you know what? It doesn’t matter. It was a team effort and, I for one, think we should be commended on such a great execution of teamwork.”

You let your comments settle in the humid air before snorting, back of your hand slapping softly against his bare chest. Damn. Firm.

“Get it? Execution? I saw that smile, Flag, don’t fuck with me.”

Current. —it shouldn’t look as good as it does. On anyone else, it would be fucking ridiculous. It does look ridiculous, you decide. He just… fucking pulls it off. You follow him into the club, warming when he pauses to let you walk ahead, his palm firm and hot on the low of your back as he guides you along.

A greedy hand lands on your wrist, dragging you towards the dance floor, and you’re sneering into the face of a complete stranger, uncaring as his hands falls from you while he gives a shout of pained surprise, hand raw and blistered from the currents you had just delivered to him. 

You miss Flag’s own curl of his lips, his eagle eyes watching the man all but run away clutching his skin. Though you often called your… talents boring, him recalling you pouting about not being able to throw lightning bolts or mess with the city grids, they came in handy. You were like a mini taser, delivering just enough shock to kill, to be useful in the field—to Waller, anyway. He was just happy to have you on his team, zaps or not.

“Here’s to being alive in three hours!”

You snort, but raise your glass anyway, grin wide as it knocks softly with the others. Conversation flows with the more drinks that come to the table, giggling at Polka Dot Man’s adorably lame jokes, dancing in your seat when Sebastian crawls up your arm and starts to look like he was throwing his little furry arms up in the air to the music, Cleo cooing into your shoulder about how he likes you.

The group eventually parts, and your smile is easy as you watch the team on the dance floor, heart surprisingly warm considering they were complete strangers and only knowing them a short while. They were nice. They deserved a little fun, a little respite. You stick to the table with Flag, content with his company for what could be the last time.

“You can’t handle it.” He grins, head tilting as he appraises you from across the table and you suddenly can’t remember the topic of conversation, mind racing to catch up.

Something had been building around the table, the air slowly getting thicker, and while you originally thought it was just the night getting humid, you think maybe not the more his gaze falls to rest on the neckline of your stupid little sundress the resistance lady all but threw at you.

You didn’t mean to kill her men—it was like she’s never heard of a mistake. Christ.

Despite the low flames of attraction that had been burning for Flag for an almost ridiculous amount of time, indignation flares within your chest and you straighten in challenge. “I can handle anything.” 

He huffs, lips lifting into a grin and then his eyes find you from under the rim of that stupid fucking hat, something stirring in them that had your stomach falling to the fucking floor, heart lodged and beating heavily in your throat.

“Could you handle me, sweetheart?”

What? He did not just say that. 

Fucking—

“Any day, Flag.” You return confidently, resting against the back of the booth while your fingers run along the smooth bottle, tips collecting the small beads of condensation and smearing them across the glass as you tilt your head. “But the question is, cowboy… could you handle me?”

His tongue runs along his bottom lip and you follow the movement with darkening eyes, his low drawl soon following, “I’d like to find out.”

Shit yes. “...would now be out of the question?”

You can see he thinks about it, eyes falling to his watch before moving to survey your surroundings, to where the team are all dotted about and then he stands, smirking curling his lips into a charming little half grin. “We’ve got time.”

There’s a line for both bathrooms, and by the looks of the many couples interlocked in the queues, you weren’t the only ones in need of some privacy. Flag pauses, eyes quickly looking around before he rams his shoulder against a locked door to the right of him, grin wide as it gives in easily under his strength and then you’re being ushered in. 

He keeps there, face lingering so fucking close, almost teasingly so as he backs you into the room and kicks the door shut behind him. It rattles violently against the frame, a bit splintered from the violent entry but otherwise stays firmly shut, and finally you’re alone.

It’s a managers office, or something along those lines, with filing cabinets and a sturdy looking metal desk sat in front of blind covered windows you assume looked out over the bar. You see it all from your peripheral, but worry you’ll break whatever fucking trance Flag’s thrown over you if you break eye contact for even a second.

“You sure about this?”

“Are you?” You fire back, brows raising.

Unspoken words hang between you before something in the air just snaps, the both of you meeting in the middle in a messy kiss, uncaring when teeth clash in your hurry to get to the other or when the stupid hat knocks against your forehead, hands moving to grab whatever they could on the other. You’re stumbling back and soon feel the dig of the desks edge along your thighs and hop onto the surface, legs widening for him to step in between.

A hand cups and tilts your face, thumb brushing along your jaw before moving down, fingers slipping the small buttons of your dress through their loops before your chest is bared to hungry hands, rough palms sliding along your heated skin and tugging at the cups of your bra until it slides enough out of the way for your tits to be bared to the warm air.

The hands that move in on the flesh start soft, but soon turn harsh when his fingers pinch and pluck at your nipples, your quiet groan of approval at the rough handling encouraging more aggression, and you arch further into the touch when he pinches and twists them slightly, your gasp eagerly being swallowed by the hungry mouth working against yours. 

Eager to play, your hands dive for his pants and dive in, humming in appreciation when you find nothing more in the way of your pursuit of feeling him as your fingers wrap around his hard cock and pull him free from his pants.

The low moan that reverberates into your mouth when your hand starts to move is downright fucking sinful, and you chase more of them as your thumb swipes along the weeping head of his cock, smearing the bead of precum along his skin before reclaiming your grip, free hand falling to gently massage his balls.

A thought hits you in your haze of being swept away by his glorious fucking mouth fighting against yours, and you briefly wonder if it’s something you should try. It’s something you’ve done before, practised and perfected to not burn any skin, just enough energy to deliver some fun little surprises. 

You keep it light, barely there. A little shock—nothing too noticeable, but it’s enough to make his mouth stutter against yours, and your eyes snap open to watch the twitch of his brows with a small wave of amusement. His eyes stay closed as you pull away, but the frown remains, deepening when you repeat the zap through your palm, only just a little stronger this time.

“What—”

You hush him softly, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and sucking on it softly. “Relax.”

“Fuckin’, Jesus—” He jolts in your arms at another longer, little zap, bucking into your grip, and you laugh sweetly against the hot skin of his throat, tongue sliding along and tasting the tang of sweat and dirt hanging there.

“Not quite, cowboy. Think you could handle a little more?”

You move at his nod, keeping your grip tight as you jerk him while every now and then delivering little shocks, ranging in length and intensity. He likes it. You know by the way his frown twitches, the way his eyes crease along the edges...

“Shit wait, I-I’m gon—”

Like hell he was going to disappoint—

Scoffing quietly, you tighten your grasp and smirk slyly up at him, lashes fluttering. “‘Wait’? But this is what I want. Cum for me—Colonel.”

One last sharp zap, mixed with your sultry coo of his title and unforgiving jerks of your hand, rip through him and he buckles in your hold, face crumbling as his high crashes over him in unforgiving waves. You chuckle softly against his lips as he floods your fingers in heavy spurts, his cum hot and sticky as it catches under your touch and slides along his cock.

You keep going, even as he softens in your hold, squeezing and milking him until he’s spasming, his hands quickly landing on your arms in a firm plea for relief. Pulling your hand away, you keep your gaze locked with his darker one as your tongue moves across your palm and hungrily along your fingers, sweeping up the streaks of his cum left on your skin with an appreciative hum that has his eyes narrowing.

He drops, knees hitting the floor while his hands fight with the hem of your dress, soft fabric slipping through his grip in his hurry to get it the fuck out of his way. The dress survives, but your panties don’t—the stitches holding the seams of cotton together tearing as he rips them down your legs, his teeth clenching in irritation when they catch over your calves.

“Easy, cowboy.” You coo down at him, slipping back to rest on an elbow as your licked fingers flick the rim of the hat playfully.

He huffs softly in amusement, breath fanning over your exposed pussy and you shift on the table, legs widening further. You flood with heat the longer he stares, so deliciously open and exposed all for him. Fingers dance along the inside of your thigh, drawing steadily closer until they ghost over your glistening folds, up and down, teasing in their movements while you whine impatiently.

“You’re a fuckin’ pretty little thing.” He murmurs in his low drawl, eyes flashing up to meet yours, fingers parting and smoothing along your slick pussy until his fingers zero in and circle your swollen clit. “You want more, baby?”

“Stupid question.” You huff sarcastically, lips twitching when he grins.

“You and that smart fuckin’ mouth.”

His fingers move away from your clit and push into your wet pussy, curling deeply against your walls and patiently searching, probing, until he finds that sweet little spot that makes your thighs twitch. A hum of victory and then he’s moving forward, open mouth hot and heavy as it lands on your pussy, tongue lapping where his fingers disappear into you before hungrily gliding up and rolling against your clit with a quiet groan, that stupid fucking hat knocking and rubbing along your lower stomach, hindering your view of him.

Lips lock around the nerve and then he sucks on it sharply, tongue flicking unforgivingly over the surface while his fingers start up, steadily thrusting deeply and continuously hitting something so fucking good you feel yourself hurtled halfway to a peak already. 

“Fucking h—” your sentence evaporates into a sharp gasp, head falling back while his mouth works you over, his fingers moving with lewd squelches as his tongue and fingers work your pussy harder. You can’t help but grind into it, pushing back against his fingers and face as something deep in your core starts to churn and twist, tightening with every rabid flick of his tongue and curl of his digits.

He feels it coming, can feel the way your thighs start to spasm and shake where they hang and cradle his face. It pushes him harder, something in him desperate to see what sounds your smart mouth makes when you’re completely shaking from pleasure he surrounds you with, drowns you in.

Your breathless chant of fuck, fuck, fuck reaches its peak when you do and, for a split second, everything hangs in a timeless void and you float hazily between stars, mind wiping clean with no knowledge of where when how, before a flare of heat explodes in your core and you come violently crashing down with a dizzying cry that has his ears ringing.

He feels the buzz of your powers through your system as you shatter, a pleasant charge moving through his fingertips as fluid gushes around his fingers and coats his chin. Your pussy clenches violently around nothing as he rips his fingers away and locks his hands around the tops of your thighs, fingers unforgiving as they dig into your flesh, dragging you tightly against his mouth before his tongue buries itself in your pussy, coaxing your body to give him fucking everything—

It throws you into the heights of another, prolonging the ecstasy already pounding through your veins and twisting it into something deeper, stronger, the depths of it reaching out and curling over you, clawing at the backs of your eyes until tears form and spill down your cheeks. Whatever spills out of your mouth is jumbled and incoherent. A mixture of pleas, voice mewling coos of more, p-please, so so fucking close—

Blackness overtakes the edges of your vision as you outright implode, a flow of charged energy shooting from your hand as it knocks against the desk lamp and shatters the glass to complete pieces, your body twisting and arching and shaking on the desk as he still keeps going, mouth hungrily taking the fresh wave of arousal that coats his tongue, content to stay exactly where he was and push you to your fucking limits.

You ride it out, voice breaking into pleading little whimpers the longer he stays locked against you, ravaging every little gush and twitch until he breaks away with a ragged gasp of his own, chest heaving as his tongue runs along his lips, back of his hand catching whatever his tongue doesn’t.

Panting towards the ceiling, your lips twitch into a well-fucked little smirk, voice breathless, “I underestimated you, Flag.”

He grunts, standing and stretching his tall frame over you, briefly pausing to lick and bite at both of your tender nipples before continuing up until his face is mere inches from yours, eyes fiery. “For once, just shut your fuckin’ mouth.”

Your mouth opens to deliver a sharp retort, but fingers are shoving their way in before a single word can even form. The tangy taste of your arousal floods your mouth and you moan lowly, lips wrapping tightly around his fingers, tongue dancing along his calloused skin as he slides them softly in and out, watching the way your lips thicken and pucker with his leisurely strokes.

The challenge swirls in your eyes, and it’s ultimately your sly little eyebrow curl that has his fingers pushing deeper until they’re down your throat, your brows creasing while a whine falls from your throat as you fight off the urge your muscles have to contract and flex around the intrusion.

“You’d take my cock so well.” He mutters in quiet admiration, grinning at your little mhm of excitement. “Not today, sweetheart.” Lips press against your temple in a silent apology when you make a noise of complaint, running soft open mouth kisses along your skin until he hovers just next to your stretched lips. “I know. One day—just not today.”

His fingers slip from your mouth, a string of saliva spilling across your chin, and then his mouth is over yours, open and breathless as he coaxes your tongue to move along his. You knock the damn hat off his head, tangling your fingers in the short dirty blonde hair at the nape of his neck before tugging it, ripping his mouth away from yours and letting your lips breeze over his with a teasing coo.

“Fuck me, Flag.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

His hand disappears between you, rubbing the head of his thick cock against your sensitive clit and then moving, probing your still fluttering pussy and sinking in, face dropping to bury into your shoulder. He’s tender, hips careful in their strokes, almost testing the waters before he pulls away to check, eyes flickering over your face. Finding no pain or discomfort, he thrusts forward, hips meeting yours with a violent slam that has the breath leaving your lungs in a sharp gasp—

“Hold on.”

You almost want to scoff, but then he’s moving. Your hands scramble to find purchase on something, anything, while he drills into you, ramming so fucking hard into your pussy you start to slide up on the desk and away from the fury of his hips.

This apparently starts to annoy him after only a minute, his body ripping away from yours with a snarl before hands are grabbing your hips and dragging you up and off the desk, spinning you around and letting your front slam against the metal top, dress soon being flung over your ass and leaving you spread and on display.

A sharp slap rings around the room and you yelp in slight surprise as your ass cheek starts to throb with the immediate after effects of the strike, skin tingling with a thousand little bites. Your eyes find his over your shoulder and he grins darkly, smug, rough fingers digging in and massaging the tender flesh.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

You smirk in return, shaking your hips ever so slightly against his touch, “Oh? Is that all you got, Colonel?”

The next is much harder, your toes curling in your boots as his palm lands harshly on your ass, your lungs barely getting a full inhale before his cock is pushing into you again, your pussy clenching around him when he aims another two to match on the other cheek. You feel his palms against your skin, squeezing and pulling at your ass cheeks and you know he’s spreading you to watch where his cock disappears, engulfed by the wet heat of your pussy as he starts to move.

It’s not long until the brutal pace is back and he abandons the little show in favour of keeping you pressed against the desk, large hand resting on your head as he tears into you, urged on by the moans you make when he hits that borderline painful limit within you. Your pussy coaxes him back in greedily every time he pulls back, and he’s weak to fight the pull of it, eyes slipping shut as workers harder, pouring weeks of pent up irritation and anger into his thrusts. 

His hand stays splayed on your head, keeping your face pressed harshly up against the cold metal desk, hips violent as they pound into yours from behind. You can’t help the wrecked little whines falling from between your lips with the harshness of his actions, ears ringing with the slap of flesh. His other hand splays across the bottom of your spine, heel of it digging into your flesh in time with his thrusts to keep the momentum.

You feel the brush of his thumb moving lower, cautious, curious, and you damn near melt through the fucking table—

“‘s okay,” you pant, eyes rolling. “Do it.”

He pauses his movements and you don’t know whether your cry is from him stopping the brutal thrusts or relief that you get a break, but it soon melts into a gasp when you feel a drop of spit hit between your cheeks, sliding down down down until his thumb rubs it softly over the puckered hole sitting above where the tip of his cock sits buried within you.

“This okay?”

Wrecked. He sounds fucking wrecked, voice almost non-existent between his sharp pants for breath, and you briefly wonder what’s doing it to him. Was it the workout of driving you into the metal; stubbornly motivated to keep you whining and boneless beneath him in some display of dominance? To prove that he can, and will, handle you wherever and whenever you’d allow him?

Or was it that you were so eager to let him do as he pleases? The fact that he had you bent over a desk in the middle of a hostile environment, spread and open, knowing anyone could just walk in and see how fucking filthy you are—all for him.

You’re nodding against the desk, sweat slicked skin sliding across the surface as you try to grind back on him, the only thing you could conjure rasping from your throat in a tangled line—more, more, more…

It’s slow, the movement of his hips starting up, just keeping to shallow, barely there thrusts while his thumb presses into your tight hole, sliding it in and out, softly pressing deeper and deeper until it’s buried fully in you and you’re whimpering into your arm.

“Please R-Rick—”

You’ve never called him that before. It breaks him.

The feral growl of “Fuck.” is all the warning you get before he’s moving again, thumb fucking and stretching your ass in time with the aggressive slam of his hips and you arch on the desk, head falling back as he drills into you further. Fingers grasp at your hair and pull, sharp and unforgiving, forcibly arching your back further until a hungry mouth could meet the soft flesh of your throat.

Teeth melt into the curve of your shoulder and you cry out, fucking yourself back against him as the hand holding your hair moves to wind around your throat, fingers tight and unyielding as they squeeze, and you’re just fucking done.

The hand slowing your oxygen supply, his thumb brushing deeply along the soft, sensitive walls of your ass, along with the bruising pace of his hips and the overwhelming ache of him hitting your cervix builds until you’re physically trembling in his hold, face creased and sweaty—

Lips brush along your throat, “That’s my girl.”

You shatter at the words, hands scrambling to hold onto his forearm wound tightly around you as his hips stutter, your pussy clenching so fucking violently tight around him along with the increased shockwaves of your powers shooting through his cock has him quickly following, his low growl of f-fuck melting into your throat as you sharply cry out, tears spiking your eyes.

The next time you meet the desk is a lot more gentle, his hands soft as they rest you down before removing himself completely from you. You vaguely hear him shuffle around the room before a cool wet cloth is carefully running along the swollen folds of your pussy, providing slight relief with the sting of cold before it warms against your body. 

“That better have been clean, Flag.” You mumble, face buried in your arm. The smile that curves your lips is soft when he chuckles quietly in return.

“I think it was.”

You make a low noise of disgust, nose curling at whatever the fuck could be on that cloth, while arms wind around your torso and help you stand straight.

“You alright?”

You hum, swaying slightly on your feet. “Fucked outta my damn mind. Good job, Colonel.”

He doesn’t get to reply—

“OI!” It comes sharply through the door. DuBois. “You finished yet? Or are you tryin’ to fuck this whole thing up?”

+

Tags: @infuriatinglyoptimistic @221bshrlocked @blueeyesatnight @januarystears @madhattervanessa @runic-belova @vvola13 @mrscrain-x7 @panemedited @southside-otaku  @lacontroller1991 @xoxabs88xox @h-hxgirl @whoopsiedaisez @witchygagirl​ 

[reid-fiction]

A Progression of Touch

In which Spencer doesn’t like to touch people until you come along and then he can’t help himself

A/N: Look at me, dropping stories like flies. Also, I’ve been staring at this gif for far too long...

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He doesn’t like to touch other people.

He knows it, you know it, the whole F.B.I. knows it. He told you as much the first time he met you by the way he awkwardly refused to shake your hand. Though he compensated with a friendly smile and a wave, you knew you were in for a ride with Dr. Spencer Reid. 

It wasn’t that he thought you were diseased. He just knew too much about germs and the human body to risk it, especially around cold and flu season which was exactly when he met you. It was bad enough that Garcia had dragged him to the Christmas party to begin with - there were so many people in close quarters, who knew what viruses were floating around - but he wasn’t a big fan of mingling and small talk either. And that was exactly what Penelope was forcing him into when he got his first glimpse of you. 

As soon as you had five minutes with Spencer under your belt, you knew you wanted a lot more time with him. He was unlike any person you had ever met and he fascinated you, especially his aversion to touch. 

A few months later, when Spencer finally bit the bullet and asked you on a date (after much prompting and borderline bribery from Garcia and multiple other team members she had coerced into helping her), he knew that his no touching rule was not going to fly for very long. He didn’t know much about relationships, but he did know that physical touch was a pretty important factor to most women. Though you never pushed him, he could tell that you were holding back for his benefit. He could see it in your eyes every time he dropped you off after a date. In most scenarios, a kiss goodnight would be expected - you wanted it, he could sense it - but it felt like you were the wrong side of a magnet that he just couldn’t get himself close to.

This was a problem, because he was falling for you and he was going to have to do something about it. 

Spencer knew that going the 0-100 method wasn’t going to work for him. He couldn’t just jump from not touching you at all to getting hot and heavy in the backseat of a car. But, gradual steps may work. If he eased himself in to getting acquainted with touching you, he could both push himself out of his comfort zone and give you a bit of the physical contact that you were clearly craving. 

-----

It started with a hug. 

One night, after walking you to your front door, you could tell that Spencer was concentrating on something and it wasn’t your current conversation. You were rambling on about some TV program you had seen the other night, and you knew he wasn’t listening to a word you were saying. 

“Hey, you okay?”

He glanced up at you, frowning, as if he had just remembered you were standing there.

“Yeah, fine. Why?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged, wrapping your arms around yourself after catching a gust of chilly air. “You just seem...far away. Distracted.”

He paused, pursing his lips at your accusation, and you suddenly felt extremely vulnerable under his gaze.

“Is something wrong? Did I...did I do something? I mean, are you -”

“No!” 

The suddenness of his reply caused you to jump, and he let out a nervous chuckle before running a hand through his hair. 

“No, it’s not you at all. I’m sorry, you’re right. I am distracted.”

“Well...about what? Maybe I can help.”

He paused again, and then smiled. “Yeah, maybe you can. Would you be able to just...stand still for a second?”

The strange nature of his request caused you to frown a bit, but you simply nodded and watched him with curiosity. A few seconds later, he slowly started to to move a few steps closer and raise his arms slightly. You had absolutely no idea what he was doing, but you didn’t move a muscle. His arms eventually found their way to rest lightly on the sides of you waist and then started to wrap around your torso. 

Your stomach instantly flipped. This was the first time Spencer had ever touched you beyond the occasional brush of your shoulders when you moved past him, or a playful kick to his leg when he beat you at chess. It had been two months of weekly dates, dinners, museum trips and evenings of sitting and talking until you were both too tired to form coherent sentences but, as much as you loved those times with him, you’d by lying if you said you never wished that he would throw caution to the wind once in a while and toss an arm around you or caress the side of your face with his fingers. 

Now, just the feeling of his hands on your back was like opening up a can of worms that had been wriggling in desperation for weeks, and you certainly hoped that this wasn’t a one time thing, because there was no way you’d ever be able to put those worms back in the can after this. 

He took another step toward you and circled his arms tighter around your back. You knew he had asked you not to move, but you couldn’t hold back any longer. You slowly raised your own arms until they were resting on his shoulders and then, when he didn’t protest, you wrapped them around his neck and leaned in until your head was nestled just below his collarbone. He tensed up only a moment before you felt him lean his head in the crook of your neck. 

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, holding each other. It could have been a few minutes, it could have been a few hours. You didn’t care, all that you knew was that you never wanted him to let go. 

-----

After the hug, his next target were your hands. 

Although Spencer was keenly aware of just how many germs the human hand picked up throughout the day, he was determined to overcome his aversion. You were clean and had good hygiene habits, he knew that. He had been hugging you every time he saw you since that first night, how much more difficult could holding your hand be?

It was during a movie he wasn’t really paying attention to that he finally made his move. Lately, his go-to move during movies was to carefully put his arm around you and rest his hand on your shoulder. He was completely comfortable with that movement now and really thought nothing of it anymore. He could tell that you enjoyed it as well, so he was more than happy to oblige you and suggest a movie night as often as possible. 

Tonight, however, he had different ideas. He purposely kept his arm at his side for the first half of the film, and he knew that you noticed. Truthfully, you had come to expect the motion now and were slightly disappointed when it didn’t happen as soon as the opening credits started to roll, but it wasn’t long until you figured out why.

You thought it was an accident at first. You had both of your hands resting in your lap and had your eyes focused on the movie when you felt it. The lightest, softest brush of skin against your own. Your hand twitched involuntarily and you silently cursed yourself for probably scaring him away. But, a minute or so later, it happened again. Still soft, still tentative, but it lingered. 

You stealthily flicked your gaze down to your lap and saw Spencer’s hand hovering just slightly over your own. You weren’t entirely sure what he was aiming for, but you kept your hand deathly still while you waited. His hand finally came to rest on your thigh and the side of his palm rested lightly against your own. You watched as his pinkie brushed up over the back of your hand, then another finger, and another, and another, until his whole hand was on top of yours. You opened the spaces between your fingers in hopes that he would lace his own through, and you weren’t disappointed. His fingers slid between yours like butter and you felt him squeeze your palm and slowly caress the back of your hand with his thumb. 

It was your idea to shuffle closer to him, lift his arm with your hands still intertwined, and loop it over your shoulder. He glanced over to you, smiled, and squeezed your hand again.

You wished you had picked a longer movie. Truthfully, so did he. 

-----

The idea of kissing you was terrifying. 

Spencer had kissed and been kissed before, but it wasn’t a common occurrence and it hadn’t ever been with someone he truly cared about. It was one thing for two body parts to come together in what science called a kiss, it was a whole other thing for that kiss to mean something. The last thing Spencer wanted was for him to screw up a potentially important moment in your relationship because he was hesitant or overly paranoid. 

He also had no idea how to know when the “right” moment was, if there was such a thing. Hugging was easy now, holding your hand was routine - he could do those at really any time, in any location, in any circumstance, and it wouldn’t be considered awkward or weird - but kissing was different. It was intimate, it was private, and it required more thought. 

It had taken him weeks, but he finally had a plan in mind. It was elaborate and detailed - as most of Spencer’s ideas were - and he knew exactly what he was going to say and do leading up to the moment.

However, what he wasn’t betting on was the sudden, overwhelming, spontaneous desire that came over him one evening while you were sitting in his apartment. You hadn’t been doing anything out of the ordinary; you had gone out to dinner, walked back to his place, and had plans to spend the rest of the night talking, maybe doing a puzzle or playing a game, and then you would go home like you always did. 

But it was something about the way you laughed after he told you a funny story that happened at work that day. It was the way your eyes locked on his every time he spoke, and the way you looked so intensely interested in every single thing he was saying, even if you didn’t understand all of it. It was the way you leaned into him when he pointed out something in a book he was holding, and the way he could smell your shampoo - vanilla with a hint of lavender - when you got close to him. It was the way your hand rested lovingly on his back while he read a passage to you and the way you absentmindedly twirled your hair as you listened. 

He needed to kiss you, and he needed to do it immediately. 

He didn’t care that it didn’t fit into his plan, he didn’t care that it wasn’t exactly what he pictured, and he didn’t care that he hadn’t prepared himself for it. The only thing he could think of was the shape of your lips and his intense need to know what they felt like on his own. 

So, he went for it.

It wasn’t slow, it wasn’t subtle, and it was probably the messiest thing he had ever done. He put the book down on the table, looked over at you, grabbed the sides of your face and pulled you to him. You were initially frozen in shock - the last thing you had expected that night was for Spencer to kiss you, let alone like this - but you could feel the intensity and desperation as his lips moved over yours, and that was enough to thaw your surprise and trigger your response instinct. You put one hand behind his head and pulled him impossibly closer to you, scooting to the very edge of your seat. 

His hands dropped from your face and landed on the tops of your thighs before he slid them up to your waist and you could feel him start to tug you closer. There was nowhere for you to go other than practically on top of him, and you knew there was no way he wanted you to do that. 

Was there?

As much as it pained you to do so, you momentarily broke the kiss to catch your breath. 

“Wow.”

Spencer chuckled, still gripping your waist. 

“Sorry,” he said, “I guess I just...couldn’t wait anymore.”

“Oh, don’t apologize!” you said, a little too enthusiastically. “It was great, and I wouldn’t have stopped you, it’s just...”

Spencer studied you, and brought one hand up to the side of your face again.

“Just, what?”

“It’s nothing, I guess I just wondered - I mean, I wasn’t sure how far you wanted to...you know...go. I don’t want you to feel like you need to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Spencer smiled, and you felt him tug you closer again. You gave him a questioning look, and he nodded.

“C’mere,” he said. “It’s okay.”

You tentatively stood and took a step closer to him before he gently guided you down until you were straddling his lap. You exhaled a breath of nerves as you seated yourself and brought your hands up to rest on his shoulders.

“You don’t need to worry,” he said. “I’m not going to push things any further tonight. But, right now, I would really like to keep kissing you. It’ll help me get comfortable with it. Repetition of an action you’re uncomfortable with is proven to retrain your mind in how you view the action.”

You grinned. “Is that the only reason you’d like to keep kissing me? To prove a scientific fact?”

“It’s more like a psychological fact. You see, in moments of intense satisfaction or pleasure, the brain releases something called dopamine which causes -”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish before you leaned in and kissed him again. 

The psychological facts could wait.

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[buglass]

Ch. 2: Are You Hopeful Tonight?

Characters: Austin Butler!Elvis Presley x OFC, Austin Butler!Elvis Presley x black!fem!OFC

Chapter(s): 2/?

Chapter 1

Warnings: slow burn, fluff, angst, sexual situations, racial tension

Rating: M (Mature)

Word Count: 3.2K

Song Inspo: You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’, It’s Now or Never, Trying to Get to You - Elvis Presley

Summary: Hope attempts to juggle the pressure of sharing intimate details nearly two decades after Elvis’s passing in a television interview. Reminiscing is not only painful but awkward as she shares Elvis and herself with the world.

A/N: Thank you for the kind words, likes, and reblogs. I’ve loved writing for our little community within the fandom!

♡ ♡ ♡

Chapter 2

1991 “Tonight,” Oprah stared at the camera while leaning into the arm of her chair. “We are joined by some of the most important women in Elvis’s life. Recently after her book was published, we learned that Hope Haynes is one of those women. Welcome, Hope.” She said smoothly and met my eyes. My heart felt as if it would break free from my ribcage. I knew it came with the territory or that I could deny the interviews. As keen as Priscilla had felt to keep Elvis’s memory alive, I had felt the same in an entirely different light.

“Thank you for having me, Oprah. It’s all so very unforeseen. Despite writing the book from my perspective, I only care about how Elvis has been portrayed.” I said with an exhale. Clasping my hands together, flashes of memories passed behind my eyes in a glazed look. I prayed it went unnoticed.

“You do so well explaining that in Are You Hopeful Tonight? I must admit. It’s the most harrowing and detailed piece of non-fiction I’ve read in some time. Fourteen years have passed since Elvis’s death. You come forward now. Why?” Oprah squinted though her tone was kind.

“Well… It’s something I kept quiet for a long time. I expected to die with this knowledge. Colonel Tom Parker was part of why it was difficult to have a future with Elvis. We all know now after the estate sued him, he was more hands-on than he needed to be. That Fight the Power song didn’t sit well with me either. Calling Elvis a racist was wrong. A generation of kids just pointing the finger was upsetting,” I wrung my hands. “Anyone who knew Elvis in the black community and music business such as B.B., Sammy Davis, Jr.--the list goes on--knows that he didn’t have a bad bone in his body.” 

“It must be painful to watch from a distance with what you know. Were you in his life much leading up to his passing?” Oprah said woefully and placed her hand on her chin.

“Not as much as I wished once he neared the end of his life… I think I’ll always regret letting the distance grow between us. I had to move on eventually, as did he. Writing the book was a time machine waiting to happen.” 

1956

The engine to Elvis’s Cadillac shut off with the turn of his wrist. I started to reach for the door handle and Elvis stopped me with a sound from his throat. “Don’t even think about it. Let me walk you to your door.” He protested after stepping halfway out of the car. I stayed put and sat back into the seat. The car felt too silent without Althea. I was wary of Daddy being there to open the door to see me with a white man. If he did, I silently pleaded with God that he would be forgiving as it was Elvis Presley. The ruckus alone when getting out to the car had been tempestuous. Although I looked just like the women outside of Club Handy, the disapproving whispers had been enough to make me feel silly. Elvis walked around the front of the car to pull open my door the rest of the way. I stepped out and pulled my pocketbook onto my arm, taking the hand proffered before me. He was warm and steady as he had been in the middle of the dancefloor.

 “I’d like ta see you again,” Elvis started as he led me to my door. “If you would be so kind as to give me your number or write down your address. The touring never stops, of course. This is the longest I’ve gone in a while without being on stage. I go to Hollywood not long now. But, when that’s settled, I think it would be good ta hear from you.” He stopped at the front door after we made it onto the porch.

“I--I don’t know what to say to that. You know how people feel about race mixin’. We couldn’t even be in the same restaurant if we wanted.” I looked down at our conjoined hands. Seeing such a stark difference in front of me felt strange at the time.

“We don’t need a restaurant. Come for supper at my place. You could meet my mama and daddy. Patsy and my mama will cook a fine meal that would beat the socks off’a any restaurant, Hope.” Elvis spoke decidedly. How he looked at me made me think it was possible to live in his fantasy world. What worried me most was his family wasn’t as kind as he said. I sighed and shook my head with a light chuckle. Digging out a notepad and pen, I scribbled my name, phone number, and address for the star. There was nothing but lightning bugs, heavy silence of the night, and a cool breeze grazing our faces. The tug and pull of the paper seemed loud once it was free. It caused me to look up again to the windows where the light inside the den was lit. Elvis grabbed the piece of paper and stepped forward. I naturally tensed up at the closeness as if I had not been held by him the hour before. 

“I think you should write down that address for me.” I said, holding the notepad up with the pen. It was a quick way of stopping him in his tracks. 

“Oh, is that right?” Elvis grinned. He pocketed the first page I gave him to take the pen and notepad. He wrote out the address in quick sharp cursive and handed it all back to me. I peered down at the address 1034 Audubon Dr with mild glee. Staring at it didn’t make it feel any more real. Elvis placed one of his palms over mine and leaned in. 

“Good night, Hope.” He whispered. Lips brushed the side of my cheek before he pulled away.

I had no time to react while he strode back to his car. He always had a way about himself. The charisma and charm were never-ending. I wanted to hate how girlish and in awe I felt. His presence had drawn me in tenfold. 

I didn’t hear from him for a month. 

Too far from my mind, Elvis taking on Hollywood, I at the time had no recollection of the small tidbit. A worn diary entry jogged my memory alone. 

August 28th, 1956

Dearest Diary,

There had been nothing more fascinating to talk to you about until Elvis Presley waltzed into Club Handy. I don’t want to divulge much in hopes of not winding myself up (as you can see from the emptiness and skipped entries). He has my number and address as I have his… 

He’s been on my mind since I saw his piece in TIME magazine. Probably the most vulnerable I’ve ever seen any celebrity be. Last I read in the papers, he’s off in Hollywood filming a motion picture. An expected hit. I haven’t heard from him since that night. The days drag while I wait for his call and think it’s too good to be true. He owed me nothing. All the time spent thinking ‘what if’ and being generally upset feels wasteful. There was still no good reason why Elvis Presley would put his fame at risk for me. At least, I don’t think so. 

-H

September 20th, 1956

He called.

The audacity of this man. I’d ask, ‘who does he think he is?’ but we all know damn well who. I don’t think I can even truly express the flood of anger and annoyance filling me up to the brim. 

Yet, I’m happy he did.

-H. xx

My mama was the one who got to the phone. I had no reason to expect a call after the amount of time that passed. My little sister, Bev, sat between my legs on the floor while I plaited her hair. I was humming when mama broke me from my reverie.

“Hope, baby, it’s for you.” She called from the kitchen. Mama was hard to read. I got up, expecting it to be Aletha or anyone else.

“Who is it?” I asked slowly. My eyes dropped to where the receiver pressed to her bosom. 

“A kind boy who says he’s Elvis. There’s only one kinda man with that name.” She raised a brow and offered the phone to me at last. I must have looked as wide-eyed as I felt. My cheeks were hot, sweat beading on my nose. I was beginning to wish he had written instead.

“Thank you, mama. I’m sure it’s a…coincidence,” I beamed and walked towards where the phone's cord met its plug. My back was left to my family and I leaned into the wall in quiet excitement. “Elvis? Hello, stranger. I would have thought you were too big for the likes of me.”

“Hope, you are one of the most memorable people. A taste of home don’t compare to these big wig folk.” He responded effortlessly.

Another thing about arriving at Elvis Presley’s home was that it wasn’t short of fanatics outside. It was a sight that the modern eye could barely fathom—milling young women by the dozen surrounding a meek gate. The car was dense in metal while the window's glass was thin. Riding in the passenger seat, I could hear open curiosity as to who I was when we pulled up in one of a few of Elvis’s cars towards his home. My anxiety was far too high to fathom putting it into words then. The majority, if not all, were white women and questioned what I was doing on that side of town. Comments of ‘oh, she must be the maid’ or something along those lines followed after me like a shadow. The words dug into my chest and clawed at my heart. Elvis must have noticed from how he peered at me once he parked. The chiffon scarf at my neck felt too tight while I tried to play timidly. His hand met mine in my lap as I lowered my eyes to where they met. I gave him a half-hearted smile while he squeezed once in quiet confidence and dismissal. Unaffected, Elvis bounded out of the Cadillac and opened my door for me as he had a month ago. Between watchful eyes and the people inside I was about to meet, my stomach churned. He waved towards the awaiting fans from the front of the car. Elvis took my hand once at the passenger door and led me out while strangers called from the road. I could hear the click and snap of personal cameras. He didn’t act fazed at all. It wasn’t something I would ever grow accustomed to. I didn’t want to. My eyes only ever were for him by that point. 

“You’re nervous, huh, darlin’?” He asked and pushed the car door shut behind me. 

“I can’t help but be with everyone starin’. Worse if your mama doesn’t like me,” I whispered. “Please tell me my lipstick isn’t on my teeth?” I smoothed out my dress and kept my eyes downcast from the flock. Elvis placed a hand on my back and led me toward the door. 

“You don’t have nothin’ ta be worried bout,” He answered sweetly and pushed the door open. “Sattnin, daddy! I’m home. C’mon and introduce yourselves.” He called out. Elvis smiled at me and winked as we passed the threshold. Nothing to be worried about would be ideal if my skin color was lighter and my hair was dissimilar to wool. I watched as Elvis’s mother rounded a corner with a beer bottle. She smoothed her free hand down her dress and offered me a smile. Vernon appeared from another room and postured himself against the nearby entryway. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mister and Misses Presley. It’s lovely to be here.” I said. My eyes roamed the foyer while my heart felt like it wouldn’t slow down enough.

“You as well, Hope. Dinner is almost ready.” Gladys smiled. She fiddled with the beads of her pearl necklace absentmindedly.

“You’d better have come hungry.” Vernon grinned in return.

After dinner, Elvis convinced me to go to his room. My mind was running a million miles per minute to understand what would be his reasoning. He assured me in quiet words that it would be better to spend time alone and to go ahead to avoid attention. Mothers had senses like a hawk. I wanted to avoid the wrath of Misses Presley my first time meeting her. Regardless, I was in Elvis’s bedroom and too afraid to sit on the bed or touch anything. I left the door cracked and clasped my hands together. After five minutes, I grew bored and looked closely at a few photographs. I picked up the silver frame holding one of Elvis and his parents as a boy.

“What you lookin’ at?” Elvis asked from the door. I nearly jumped out of my skin. My face grew hot since I didn’t hear him push the door open. Glancing over at him, I put the photo back in its place and turned towards Elvis.

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming. I’ve never been in a bedroom this big.” I spoke carefully. “Are you sure it’s no issue being in here?”

“Well, as long as we keep our voices down, and they don’t travel to Dodger’s room, I’m sure we’ll be alright,” He grinned as if entertained by the thrill. He further explained to me how everyone retired to the family room, teasing. “Sit with me, Hope.” Elvis crossed the room and sat down on the end of his bed. My eyes were the first to follow him along with my body. He pat the spot next to him when he saw I wasn’t moving. My legs started moving on their own until I was next to him in seconds. We were close enough I felt the heat coming off of him. I crossed one leg over the other, wondering about the star’s intentions. Meeting his parents gave me enough confidence to feel secure in what he wanted. Elvis was still a man with needs. My father huffed and puffed about the dark desires of men for too long for me to ignore. 

“You must have been busy filming your movie. Are you nervous?” I asked softly. My fingers played with the ends of the scarf at my neck, a nervous habit.

“I’m always nervous about somethin’. Like it runs in the Presley blood. I’ve always wanted this since I was a youngin’, you know? Once I could understand what it meant to be in the public eye. Here, let me turn on some music.” Elvis offered and bound from the bed to rifle through his record collection. He turned slightly to hold up Fats Domino’s Here He Comes Again! Album causing my eyes to widen. Elvis drew the vinyl out of its pouch and dropped the needle. He returned to my side again after setting the volume to give them enough privacy and room to talk. 

“The world is a scary place. What’s scarier is not following your dreams or your heart.” I admitted while I tried to relax. The music was soothing. Not that we were doing anything wrong. I seldom was alone with a man.

“And what dreams do you want to come true?” He asked while watching me. Elvis’s eyes carried a weight to them as I met him halfway. His sincerity was nearly staggering. My eyes dropped to his full lips before the guilt caused me to look elsewhere. Elvis placed a curved finger under my chin to meet his eyes again.

“I… Maybe, one day, I can own a cafe or bookstore. A place of refuge. I’m not sure it will ever be more than a dream.” I muttered shyly. His hand moved to spread across my cheek to keep my attention on him. 

“You seem like a smart girl, Hope. Too smart for me, probably.” He let out a low laugh. The sound of it warmed me. I wanted to be the reason he laughed every day and hear his aspirations. “You never know what might happen,” Elvis spoke with something else behind his words. I wasn’t aware at the time how much of a giver he was until years later. Staring at him again, Elvis held my gaze while I leaned closer and rested my hand on his knee. I knew I would regret it if I didn’t allow myself to close the gap. He did it for us. We melted together and soon were lying on our sides. His hand slid to the middle of my back to draw me in. I should stop him--should was the keyword. 

A rumbling noise of approval from him went straight to my core. I carded a hand through soft strands that were deceptively longer than they looked. A few minutes had passed and they were getting too close. Elvis started to draw back, breathing heavily. I didn’t want it to stop and tried to press in again. Elvis stopped me. “Hope…” He panted and pushed up onto his elbow. “We should stop now before we get any worse.” 

“Is it something I’m doin’?” I asked half-heartedly. 

“No, no. Nothing at all. I think I would be remiss to ruin things by going too fast. It would be better to…hold off.” He responded almost as if embarrassed. I didn’t need to see it to know what I felt pressed against me. “Let’s take a breather and talk. I want to hear more about this cafe bookstore thing you’ve got goin’ on in that pretty head of yours.” He rolled over onto his back. I moved to sit up and straightened my skirt to pull it back down.

“And you need to show me what other negro artists you’re coveting over there.” I gave him a reassuring smile. A third time I bent to his will since knowing him. The ache was distracting initially. I found myself enraptured by our conversations and showing one another our favorite songs on each album we managed to get through. The fondest memory that always stuck with me was the sound of Frank Sinatra’s voice singing Mood Indigo surrounding us. I wasn’t as hesitant as I’d been in Club Handy and sunk into his arms. His strength somehow gave me less to worry over. I’d forgotten about the fans on the drive and his family beyond the room. One of the last times I would feel safe in his arms.

“You weren't the only one who says Elvis was their first love.” Oprah perched her chin onto her hand and stretched her index finger over her lips. 

“Elvis was the kind of person that you couldn’t help loving. He was a flirt and a go-getter. As much of an entertainer he was, Elvis was also a lover. He had so much to give. Too much that he didn’t see when he was beyond his breaking point in all forms.”  

A/N: Been looking into so many real-life events to keep it interesting. I finished Elvis and Me a couple days ago before I originally started on this. I was so wrapped up in it and finished it in two days. So many details surprised me and even threw me off that I had to sit with my thoughts for a few days. Anyhow, might skip ahead in the timeline to speed things up in the next chapter! Please let me know if you want to be tagged. Taglist (some people couldn't be tagged for some reason): @wonderprince @4niah @matchaluvr123 @mirandastuckinthe80s

[the-iceni-bitch]

Every Little Thing

Pairing: Colin Shea x fem!Reader

Words: ~4.3k

Summary: You and Colin are two slutty pea in a pod neighbors, but maybe you could be more?

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (fingering, f receiving oral sex, unprotected vaginal sex), idiots in love, excessive alcohol consumption, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!!!

A/N: Ugh, I love Colin and I can’t believe it took me so long to write him. Before I get a bunch of notes about it, they’re gonna realize their feelings eventually but it might take a couple fics because they’re both morons, but they’re pretty morons so it’s fine 😉

Check out my masterlist and join my taglist if you want!!!

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Oh god, what the fuck was that noise? Why was your phone ringing at 8 AM on a fucking Sunday?

You picked up the offensive object and growled when you got a look at the caller ID.

“Colin, it’s Sunday morning, this had better be really good. I didn’t get home until 4 AM.”

“She won’t fucking leave.” He hissed over the line. “She wants to go out for waffles.”

“I fail to see how this is my problem.” You grumbled, rolling over onto your back and flinging your arm over your eyes. “Just ditch her at the fucking waffle place.”

“C’mon, Y/N, that’s like a second date. What about our deal?” That fucking deal, he definitely benefitted more from it than you did.

“You’re an asshole.” You mumbled, sitting up with an exhausted groan. “Gimme 5 minutes.”

“You’re the best!” You could hear the fucking grin in his voice and rolled your eyes at him.

“Yeah, I fucking know.” You didn’t wait for him to confirm before you hung up on him, stretching your whole body as you moved to put on some clothes.

It only took you a few minutes to pull on some old jeans and a sweatshirt and then you were stomping across the hall to Colin’s apartment, determined to make this as uncomfortable as possible for him. 

“Colin Shea!” You pounded on the door viciously. “This is your wife! I found your little love nest! What hooker do you have in there now?”

You couldn’t help but grin to yourself as you heard a commotion from inside, someone was cursing up a storm and you were pretty sure you heard a couple of slaps.

“I can hear you in there.” You tried to make it sound like you were on the verge of tears. “What about Colin Junior? I’m not raising that baby on my own, you bastard!”

The door slammed open and a very angry looking woman stormed out, shooting a glare over her shoulder and calling Colin a motherfucker as she scurried down the stairs. He came rushing after her with a frustrated look on his face, rubbing the side of his jaw and scowling when he got a look at the shit eating grin on your face.

“My wife?” He asked incredulously, grabbing his hoodie and pulling it over his naked torso as you just continued laughing at him. “That was kinda mean.”

“8 AM on a Sunday, Shea.” You booped his nose with your finger and winked at him before turning to head back to your place. “You wake me up before 10 AM on a weekend and you take what you can get. I’m going back to bed.”

“Wait, Y/N, don’t you wanna have breakfast or something?” He jogged after you, ignoring the glower you shot him as you opened your door. “I’ll make you my famous eggs.”

“Did you not hear me when I said I got in at 4 AM?” You frowned at him when he kept you from closing your front door. “Colin, quit being so clingy. If I wanted to have breakfast with some annoying dude I would’ve actually brought that lawyer from last night home.”

“A lawyer, huh?” He was giving you one of those stupid looks that he typically reserved for girls he was trying to bang but that he definitely knew didn’t work on you. “And that didn’t even do it for you.”

“I mean, I still rode that beard for a good hour, but he was super depressing.” You kept knocking your door against his foot with an annoyed air. “Which is why I need to sleep, so get out of my fucking doorway.”

“Fine, we’re hanging out later though!” He called as you slammed the door in his face.

You just ripped off your clothes and crawled back into bed, burying your face in your pillows and cursing the sun as you did your best to fall back asleep.

It must have happened at some point, because you woke up six hours later with a mouth full of cotton and absolutely drenched in sweat. Why was it so fucking hot?

The pillow case tried to come with your face when you rolled out of the bed and you threw it away from you with a huff as you padded to inspect your air conditioner. 

It wasn’t on. You knelt in front of it and whined as you tried flicking it off and on and nothing happened. This could not be happening, not with summer just about to start. It was supposed to be in the 90s today. No matter what you tried, it didn’t turn on. Granted, all you tried was unplugging it and plugging it back in, but that always worked with your computer.

The call to the repair company was no luck, they were closed for the weekend. This was going to suck, you fucking hated being hot. You moved to your kitchen to try to find some way to cool off after opening every damn window in your place to hopefully get some kind of air circulation going.

That’s when you spotted it. 

The frozen margarita machine you had bought on an absinthe fueled online shopping spree and never gotten around to returning. It was like a little miracle right there in your kitchen, designed to help you cool off and get drunk so you could forget about how fucking hot it was while you did the week’s worth of chores you had been procrastinating.

You hummed happily when that first gulp of frozen tequila goodness slid down your throat, and maybe you shouldn’t have chugged the whole thing but who fucking cared, it was hot. Time flew by as you downed those things like it was your fucking job, scrubbing your pots and pans and singing little songs to yourself.

Music started drifting through your open windows but you barely registered it even as you started singing along because it was Queen and how could you not.

It was the third time you had filled that margarita machine and you were feeling fantastic, dancing around your kitchen as you continued cleaning your dishes. Whoever was playing music was still going strong and you began belting when they started doing Seven Seas of Rhye.

“You are mine, I possess you, I belong to you foreveeeEEER!”

“Hey, Y/N!”

Your badass high note devolved into a shriek and you turned to chuck the cup you were holding at the intruder on the fire escape, cursing when you saw it was Colin. He managed to duck out of the way at the last second with a muttered fuck and you sighed as you watched your mug sail over his shoulder.

“Fuck, Shea, that was my favorite mug!” You pouted, stamping your foot a little and taking another gulp of your margarita. “What the fuck are you doing on my fire escape?”

He gave you a stupid cocky grin as he watched to try to lean on one hand on your counter and almost go down when you missed it at the last second.

“Are you drunk, honey?” Fuck him for calling you honey, that wiley asshole. “We could hear you singing from the roof.”

“I’m just a little buzzed.” You hiccupped. “Who’s we?”

“My band.” He crawled into your apartment and caught you when you tripped over your own feet again, still grinning at you like an idiot. “The ones you were singing along with.”

“That was your band?” You had never realized how blue his eyes were. “You guys sound great!”

“Yeah, you sound pretty good yourself.” He grabbed the cup you were holding and gave it a sniff, coughing a little before he set it on the counter. “Maybe you should come hang out with us instead of drinking what I think is blended jet fuel and ice all by yourself.”

“If I’m gonna hang out with you guys I think I should bring a pitcher of margs.” He was really fucking pretty, had you noticed that before? “Don’t wanna be a bad hostess.”

“Oh, baby, you’re wasted.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear and you felt your chest flutter a little bit. “No more margs for you. Come sing with us while you sober up. No, no.” He pulled you back when you tried to crawl out the window and started dragging you towards your door. “Ladder doesn’t really seem like a good idea right now, let’s take the stairs.”

You tossed your head back as you laughed, slapping his chest while you leaned heavily on him and let him guide you through the hall and to the stairs to the roof. Those were some firm pecs, you were a little marvelled at the way your palm just bounced right off so you slapped it again.

“Wow.” It was like your hand was moving independently from your brain as you gave him a pretty brazen squeeze. “Your tits are fantastic, Colin.”

“Holy shit, Y/N!” He was laughing hysterically when he shoved the door to the roof open. “Your drunk game is on point sweetie. Guys, this is Y/N, the killer vocals you heard from downstairs. She’s a little tipsy.”

They introduced themselves and you promptly forgot all of their names, your hand trailing down Colin’s chest until you could press it against his abs. This was getting weird, it’s not like you hadn’t seen him naked before. But seeing and touching were apparently two very different things.

“We still doing Queen, boys?” You said, finally tearing your eyes away from Colin after poking him in the bellybutton and grinning when he made a noise like the Pillsbury doughboy. “Cos I’m good with whatever.”

“What about some Journey?” He slung his SG over his shoulder and watched you carefully as you grabbed the mike one of his bandmates was handing you. “You wanna sit down, hon?”

“Don’t call me hon, sweetheart.” You teased, giving him a wink and tapping the mike a couple of times. “I’ll be fine. Journey feels a little basic but ok. Faithfully or Lovin’ Touchin’ Squeezin’?”

That grin he gave you should not have been affecting you like this, maybe you did have too many margaritas. The bassist started playing the opening riff to Lovin’ Touchin’ Squeezin’ and your grin got even wider, your hips moving to the beat as you kept your eyes on Colin. You laughed happily when he joined in with the guitar part, joining in after the piano had done its thing and losing yourself in the music.

He could not take his eyes off of you, he was pretty sure you’d never been this fucking cheerful around him before. Not that you were especially grumpy or anything, or that your typical dry wit didn’t immediately endear you to him. But seeing you with that goofy grin as you sang every fucking Journey song they had in their roster until the sun set was not helping the already prodigious crush he had on you. 

Now the two of you were sitting on the couch he had dragged up there months ago and watching his bandmates pack up their gear, saying goodbye to each of them as they headed down the stairs and left you two to lean against each other and sigh happily. You had your legs flung over his lap as he plucked at his guitar strings lazily, kicking your feet slowly and leaning back on the sofa as you watched him closely and sipped on a bottle of water.

“You ever do any actual performing, honey?” He asked, his fingers running over your calf absentmindedly. “Cos with that voice you could probably line up some gigs.”

“Just karaoke.” You murmured. You were definitely sobering up now, but you were still hyper aware of his hands on your skin and it was giving you some feelings you weren’t totally sure about. “Lemme see that thing.”

“What?” He gave a little huff when you grabbed the neck of his guitar and pulled it into your lap. “Baby, do not tell me you play.”

“I mean, it’s been a little while, but I think I remember a couple chords.” You gave him another grin and his chest started to hurt.

“Jesus, a couple chords?” He laughed to cover the absolutely filthy sound he almost made when you started playing, it was like he had made you on a computer. “Honey, that’s Led Zeppelin.”

“Yeah, but it’s easy Zeppelin.” You teased, turning your body so you could lean against his chest and not missing the low rumble you felt when you tucked your head against his shoulder. “It’s Coda.”

“Uh-huh.” Being this close to you was doing something to him, he suddenly had the overwhelming urge to smell your hair. 

“Why haven’t we slept together, Col?” Fuck it, you might as well do this.

He choked on the water he was drinking, turning his face so he didn’t spit it all over you as you stopped your playing and grinned at him.

“I seem to remember giving it a good try when you moved in.” He managed to get himself under control and turned his face back to you. “But you said you had a rule about not fucking people who live in the same building as you. Something about not shitting where you eat.”

“That’s about sex with coworkers.” You said, scrunching your face up as you tried to remember what your exact justification had been.

“Which is what I told you.” He tried to scoot away from you but you followed after him. “To which you replied, ‘doesn’t matter, not gonna happen’.”

“Huh, that seems awful short-sighted of me.” You scooted closer again and this time he let you. “C’mon, we’ve fucked almost everyone else in this city, we’d have gotten to each other eventually anyways.”

“Jesus, what a romantic sentiment.” He was trying to focus real hard on his softeners, but they weren’t working with you squirming against him like that. “You really want to do this?”

“I mean, I think we’d enjoy it.” You set his guitar aside and turned so your chest was pressed to his. “It’s not like we’re gonna catch feels, or anything. Just gonna see what all the fuss is about.”

“Right.” Maybe this would get his little crush out of his system. “Let’s not do it on the roof, though.”

“God, no. My place?” You stood up and started heading towards the fire escape.

“Yeah, ok.” He watched you climb down to your apartment before sliding down the ladder after you like the damn frat boy he was.

As soon as he climbed in the window you were dragging him towards you, swallowing his tiny cry of surprise when you pulled his mouth to yours. His lips were unbelievably soft against your own, and when he opened up and stroked your tongue with his? 

Fuck.

“Shit, Colin.” You purred when he started trailing his lips down your throat. “I feel like maybe we should’ve done this sooner.”

“Yeah, maybe.” His voice was muffled as his mouth moved to your chest, one hand moving to hook under the neckline of your camisole and pulling on it until your breasts popped out. “Well fuck me. No wonder you know so much about fantastic tits.”

You laughed at that, arching into his face and grinning down at him as he buried his face between your tits and gazed at you through his lashes. Those stupid, long as all fuck lashes that were brushing against your skin as he mouthed at your soft curves. 

“Jesus, fuck.” You wound your fingers through his hair when he dragged his tongue over your nipple, tugging on it softly and guiding him further into your apartment. “God, you really know how to use that mouth of yours, sweetie.”

“Oh, honey, you don’t even know.” He teased, moving his face back to yours and lifting you to wrap your legs around his waist as he started carrying you towards your bedroom.  “You wanna find out, though?”

“You tease all the girls you fuck this much?” You nipped at his lips and grinned when he moaned into your mouth, reaching behind you to open the door to your bedroom. 

“Nah, that’s just for you, baby.” He cooed, giving you a quick peck on the lips before dropping you on the bed with a huff.

Every place his fingers touched sent a jolt of heat through your body straight to your core, your eyes never leaving his as he started kissing and nipping his way down your torso after pulling your cami over your head. He grinned against your thigh when you moaned after he yanked your shorts down your legs, sucking a soft bruise into your flesh before rubbing his face over your clothed core and inhaling deeply.

You throbbed under his lips as he pressed gentle kisses over the fabric that covered your mound, hooking your legs over his shoulders and trying to grind into him when he tugged at your panties with his teeth and let them snap back into place teasingly. His fingers skimmed up your legs until he could hook them under the band of your panties and drag them off you, sighing heavily when he settled back between your thighs and got a good look at you.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He spread you apart with his fingers and flicked his tongue out to run over your slit softly, moaning when he finally tasted you. 

“I bet you say that to all the girls.” You ran your fingers through his hair and beamed at him, rolling your hips against his face when he sucked your pussy lips into his mouth with a low hum.

Colin chuckled into your cunt at that, pressing gentle kisses all over your soft folds before dragging his tongue over you in a heavy stripe. Your body reacted immediately when he reached your clit, your back arching off the bed and your legs curling around his neck as he repeated the same process but at a much slower pace. 

Two of his fingers slid inside you as he wrapped his lips around your clit and you keened, gripping his hair by the roots and tugging hard when he started stretching you open while his lips drove you wild. The rhythm of his suction and release matched the curling of his fingers inside you and made you want to scream, your free hand reaching above your head and digging hard into your pillow as your body tried to rise off the bed when he brought you right to the edge of your peak right away. 

“Col, Colin, oh fuck.” He felt like your thighs were gonna suffocate him but those sounds you were making for him had him past the point of caring about a silly thing like oxygen. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”

Your whole body seized against his face as you let out a gorgeous fluttering moan, soaking his lips and chin in your release as he hummed with satisfaction into your pussy. He sat up when you finally released him, removing his clothes in a rush as he watched you pant underneath him and run your tongue over your lips. God, you were fucking beautiful, he couldn’t believe he’d waited so long to do this.

Before you had a chance to say anything he was hooking your knee over his elbow and thrusting into you, sheathing himself to the hilt in one smooth motion and releasing his breath in a thin hiss when he felt your satiny walls flutter around him. 

“Ah, fuck, you feel amazing.” He ducked his face to catch your lips with his before pulling back with a groan. “Shit, I forgot a condom. Uh, I’m clean, just got tested last week.”

“God, you’re fine sweetie.” You brought a hand up to cup his jaw and ran a thumb over his cheek in a soothing gesture. “Also clean and I have an IUD, so we’re peachy. I am a little mad at you though.”

“Yeah, why?” He wasn’t too worried, you were still grinning at him as he started moving his hips slowly.

“Well, Jesus, fuck, you’re big.” You almost lost your train of thought when he tilted your hips just a bit and his cock hit you deep. “I usually like to reciprocate oral, sweetie. I barely even got a look at what you’re packing down there.”

“You’ve seen it before.” He groaned when you wrapped your free leg around his hips and rolled your body against his.

“Just glances though.” You gripped his biceps and dug your nails in, biting your lip as he continued dragging his length over every inch of you at an agonizing pace. “And never hard.”

“Honey, there’s no way I’m pulling out for you to take a good look so you’re gonna have to make due.” He teased, grinding against your clit and grinning when your eyes fluttered closed.

“Fine.” You huffed, frowning a little before winking at him. “We’re switching then.”

“What?”

You didn’t answer, just giving him a cocky grin and gripping his hips with your thighs. One quick move and he was under you, a small sound of surprise leaving his lips when you were suddenly straddling his hips and grinning down at him.

“Oh yeah, that’s better.” You placed one palm on the center of his chest and curled your fingers through his chest hair as you rose up on your knees before sinking down again nice and slow, loving the low groan you felt reverberate in his chest when you clenched around him. “Good for you, Col?”

“Yes, yeah, s’ good.” He was completely mesmerized by you, his eyes trailing over your body as you arched your back and continued to ride him. 

The way he was reacting to you was making it hard for you to focus on what you were doing, his eyes soft and relaxed on yours and his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he slowly moved his hips to meet your own. You could’ve lost yourself in those eyes if you really wanted to.

Shit, none of that.

His fingers started trailing up your sides when he fucked up into you suddenly and he lost it at the way your tits bounced for him, sitting up with a whine and nuzzling into your chest before wrapping his lips around your nipple as he started bucking wildly.

“Shit, fuck, Colin.” He was hitting your cervix with each punch of his hips and it was taking all your self control to not pass out from how hard he was railing you, wrapping your legs around him and dragging your lips over his jaw. “Baby, you’re gonna make me come again.”

“Yeah? Good.” He cupped your jaw and brought your face back to his, tugging at your lips with his teeth while he gazed into your eyes. “I wanna watch your face while you come.”

You kept your eyes open and trained on his, worrying his bottom lip with your teeth and resting your forehead against his as you felt a warm coil gathering in the pit of your stomach. It was like you were falling into those lust blown pools as he took you apart, your lips crashing against his as the coil snapped and you gasped his name into his mouth. 

The feeling of your entire body fluttering around him was too much, and he followed you with a low growl. He muttered your name under his breath as he spilled his cum inside you, holding you close to his chest and rubbing his nose against yours.

You fell on top of him when he collapsed back against the bed, the two of you laughing breathlessly as you tangled your limbs and molded your lips together before pulling back and gazing at each other some more. Both of you lost yourselves for just a beat, your chests heaving against each other’s before disconnecting and rolling off the bed in two opposite directions as you did your best to compose yourselves.

“I’d say you definitely earned all those screams I’ve heard coming from your apartment, Shea.” You teased, trying your best to lighten the mood and not dwell on the desire you had to ask him to spend the night. 

“Yeah, well I’ve always thought so.” He was avoiding looking at you as much as possible, searching the room for his clothes and fighting the urge to pull you back into the bed and snuggle with you. “Have you seen my converse?”

“Yeah, here.” You shoved his shoes at him after pulling an oversized tee over your head. “Well, I’ve got work in the morning, so…”

“Right, I’ll, um, I’ll talk to you later, I guess.” He shuffled towards your front door and pulled it open before leaning back to look at you one more time. “You can join us for band practice any time, by the way.”

“That would be great.” That smile you were giving him made him feel like his heart was going to break. “I promise not to be sloppy drunk next time.”

“Aww, drunk Y/N was pretty fun, but ok.” He winked at you then left in a hurry, slamming the door behind him. 

You fell back on your bed and ran your hands over your face in frustration, hating yourself for coming up with this stupid idea because now all you wanted was to have breakfast with that beautiful idiot tomorrow after sleeping on top of his chest.

“Goddamn it.”

Colin grabbed himself a beer when he got back to his apartment and chugged it, sinking into one of his barstools and considering the fact that he was absolutely not over his crush after everything the two of you had just done.

“Shit.”

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[muffindaddystyles]

Hates to, Hate you.

Word Count: 8k

Summary: Harry realizes that hurting Y/N broke him into pieces and tries to win her back with the confession of true feelings, will Y/N let him? If yes, how? How will he walk through fire for her?

Pairing: Famous!Harry x Reader!with anxiety.

AU: fake dating, slow burn, sexual tension, enemies to lover!

Warning: Mentions of violence, sexual assault, language, adult topics. 

PART 1, MASTERLIST

"Please, stop." He says dolefully rubbing his eyebrows to get rid of the ache pounding in his head. 

He's miserable. It hurts to not have her with him. It's been two tragic months of going through constant sleepless nights, disrestless stomach, intoxicating himself to forget her,  staring at things like a hawk and missing her terribly.

He was alone before her and never felt this lonely.

He sees her everywhere. In his dreams and her shadows in his drawing room getting excited over a ceramic vase someone gifted him. Dancing in his kitchen to the beat of pink floyd and hip-checking him for a cheerful nudge, in his back garden rescuing a sparrow who broke it's neck and in his attic stressing over her assignments. 

Everything reminds him of her. The fruity drinks that the barista's handing to the people, the fairy lights upon their heads and how she used to fond over them —- buying it for his bedroom too and when he refused to hang them, she just brushed off his snarky comment and did it herself. 

The ring in Harris finger floods back all the bitter-sweet memories of the time he refused to have a lil fun with her, (Y/N and Harris made friendship rings and bracelets for eachother with the colorful beads to spend their boring time in his home waiting for him to write some lines before they went to a gumball shop) as they try to knock some senses in their friend's brain, "You tried to dodge a heartbreak and still ended up shattering your heart, yourself." They worry about him. That he's been bearing the pain all alone and not sharing it with anyone. 

His voice croak-y and hoarse, "How's she?" The question haunts him. She blocked his phone number and even in the wee hours of night he wrecks his mind whether he should call her or not, he couldn't because she doesn't want to hear his voice. 

He misses her voice. He misses her complaints and whines as if they filled the stoic parts of his life with happiness. 

"How'd I know?" Harris lowers down to rest their elbows on the table, "I -- I thought . . she isn't in contact with ye'?" When Harris shakes their head with a gesture that he's being truthful it sinks his heart furthermore. 

He clears his throat, twisting the jewels on his hand and sucks his bottom lip to muster some courage, "I've been seeing someone." Harris chokes on the boba they were chewing on for so long, "You what?" They are completely perturbed at his statement. Even though they've been working together and been friends before Y/N came in the picture, she's still their bezzy and we don't betray our bezzies like that. 

"Yeah, someone to help me sort me feelings out." Harry frowns confusedly and then realization washes upon him so he becomes frantic in his chair, "No . . not what you're thinkin'." He runs his fingers through his hair to subside the twitch in them. 

"A therapist, 'm talkin' bout a therapist . ." He sighs watching his tea waft down sympathetically. 

"Oh. That's a good start, Harry!" Harris tries to bring the same dimply boyish smile that used to flutter over his lips whenever she used to tease him, unfortunately it never appears. 

// 

Y/N didn't handle her first ever heartbreak well. She lost her appetite, her focus on her studies and to her surprise didn't shed a single tear –-- it just kept piling in her chest and she waited for the moment it'd burst until she saw those pictures plastered all over social media. Pictures of him with some model that isn't a shorty pants like her at all, totally how those ladies described his type to be and someone with whom he wouldn't be embarrassed to hang out with. 

She's everything, Y/N's jealous of. Those sparkling blue eyes compared to her boring brown ones, handsome figure and the radiance of richness. 

Then she got stuck into her life responsibilities and worried about other things such that; she wasn't able to pay any bills and her flat's rent despite doing two part time jobs along with doing her class-fellows assignments in return of money and still got kicked out of it. Her close friend offered her to live in her studio and she has made it her kitchen, study, sleeping room with her stuff and clothes scattered everywhere.

She lives on noodles and toasted breads sometimes treating herself with delights of kit-kat bars in the middle of nights. 

Watches her friend do her work and leave when the night comes by —- she has never felt this lonely in her entire life. 

"So, was it love at first sight?" Nora her friend asks, handing her cuppa tea and a scone. Y/N let a weak sad smile slip, shaking her head and reminiscing all those moments where she was falling in love with him without even realizing, "Falling in love slowly patiently is the most beautiful . . . at some time I used to loathe his existence but staying with him and after knowing him, it was like --— an escapeless tunnel. I didn't realize it, till one day I woke up and my heart saw him in a different light, where I wanted to give him all me lovin' but he wasn't ready for it." She shrugs sipping the hot beverage and doesn't flinch from the burn that tingles at the tip of her tongue. 

When she put her cup aside Nora takes her hand assuring her sweetly, "You'll have that person soon -- he's just on his way, with a big bouquet of roses and a teddy bear to give you the lovin' you deserve." Y/N giggles at that waving her off and not showing how her person is still Harry. What does she do to forget him? To fool her in thinking he isn't her first love.

"Aish, Nora aren't you gettin' late? Gooo." She had some clients to meet before she stopped here at studio to grab some things but it turned into a girlie hangout, "Take care honey and don't forget to put a bucket there." She points to the corner where water's dripping from the rooftop and Y/N exhaled an exasperated sigh of breath when the door clicks leaving her alone yet again. 

// 

It was past twelve and when usually she pulls an all nighter to study -- today she decided to sleep early. Her bad habit of overthinking kicks in again, this time it's not over some silly thing but she ponders over where she went wrong? She should've kept her feelings to herself and atleast would have been sleeping in her bed cuddled with her chonky cat Zippy. 

She misses Zippy badly. 

A noise of door unlocking loudly drags her from her reverie and her heart pounds against her ribcage ready to break it. Who could be at this hour of night? It could be Nora since she's the only one who got keys to the place. 

Sitting up quickly she squints against the blinding lights and watches someone's boot stepping over her blanket that flopped onto the floor from the sofa she's sleeping on. 

"Kevin? What are you doing here?" He's Nora's boyfriend and her classfellow. He just shrugs tumbling his way towards the sofa and she tries to scoot back from him as much as possible, "I'm here to see you. . ." He slurs. It knocks her breath out, filling terror in her veins as the heels of her feet rub against the leather of the couch in her effort to be away from him. 

"What? This's not appropriate I -- I . . suggest you to call Nora s –- so, what're you doin —-" She squeaks in fear sinking into the couch when he towers over her and traps her under him with his hands on either side of her body aggressively, "I like you. Why don't you get it!!" She flinches when he shouts angrily with bloodshot eyes and the smell of alcohol disgusts her springing tears in her eyes. 

"Please, stop . . ." She whispers with silent tears running down her throat using all her strength to push at his shoulders but he grips her hips tightly and yanks at her sleeping shirt revealing the strap of her bralette. She couldn't even cry for help. It's useless so putting some belief in herself for the last time she uses all her power and kicks him in his crotch pushing him roughly on the floor. 

His nails tear at her delicate skin but she doesn't care before running out of the studio ignoring the names he's calling her from behind.

She runs away, away and away. Not thinking twice where she's going before crossing the bridges and tunnels. It feels like her ears are bleeding with the echo of loud horns of traffic and the hopelessness of her life makes her fall on her knees. She cries all the tears she was bottling up for months feeling like she's running out of time and reaching dangerously near to her end. 

She's been in the same neighbourhood she's been before many times. The chilly wind doesn't prick goosebumps over her skin, the night's darkness doesn't scare her and the stray dog that's barking somewhere in far doesn't affect her at all as she stares at the door from where she has stepped into her comfort space many times. 

Harry's with Scottie. His childhood friend who's here in London for some shoot. They were lounged in the living room talking their hearts out and their cringey memories from when they were small when he halted mid-talk, jaw slacking when his eyes took the sight of someone standing at his main door from the multiple security screens appearing on the telly. 

He doesn't believe at first. Thinking he's hallucinating and that maybe he just saw a flicker of a ghost but when she looks up revealing her sad face and those big brown eyes he rushes to open the door. 

"Fuck." He breathes out working on the heavy cold locks of the oak door with shaky hands anxiously and she was about to walk away with her back turned to him when he spurts out her name in haste, "Y/N." She listens to him. Insides breaking with the nirvana and scent of him surrounding her. 

His breath hitches in his throat when she spins to meet his apprehensive gaze and she doesn't give him a chance to have a proper look at her before falling in his arms, her head hitting his chest and body shaking vigorously as she sobs sadly. 

"Darlin'?" He asks worriedly, slipping his arms around her shoulders to lull her in his embrace, "Are you oka?" He feels like his stomach ate his heart as he anticipates an explanation from her and she isn't doing anything but crying. 

"You're scarin' me, pet. What happened honey?" He pulls away to cradle her face in his calloused palms. His chests pangs with hurt and remorse upon seeing her tear stained cheeks, wobbly blue lips, and disheveled state. 

He steps inside with her still in his arms and rubs his hand down her spine to calm her down as little sad sniffles and hiccups keep slipping out of her mouth. 

He sits her on the sofa squatting down infront of her and Scottie brings her water. When she refuses to drink it because Harry strokes his thumb against the apple of her cheek, "Shh, 's okay . . you're okay. You're with me now, sweet girl." It's like the world and anything else has blurred around him and his ever priority's focusing on her only. His observant gaze dawdles from her face to her bruised shoulder emitting an afflicted gasp of trepidity from between his lips and it deepens to a growl when it fell over her hip-bone where the fabric of her pyjama's spotted with blood.

He glances up at Scottie who gives him a knowing look of horror. He gets closer to her and she doesn't retract as his thumb streaks away the blood oozing from her shoulder gently, saying nothing as he examines it. 

After a brief pause Y/N's heart skips a nervous beat when he tilts her chin to have a better look at her face, taking in the evidence of someone handling his petal so brutally it left scratches at her face. 

Harry looks her dead in the eyes. His anger barely restrained tippling from the pot ready to leave burns, his voice is tense and quite, ears heating with wrath. 

"Who did this to you?" 

"Kevin." The tears are back at her waterline more concerned that he's panicking because of her and Scottie sits beside her massaging her shoulders. 

"Kevin, who?" Harry's question is curt controlling himself from finding this mother fucker himself and beat the shit out of him, "H -- he's my friend's boyfriend, I though --– was sleeping in her studio 'n 'n --- when he . . . he —-- " She hides her face in her palms unable to speak but Harry quickly pulls her down in a comforting hug whispering sweet things to stop her crying. 

She parts from him with puffy eyes and swollen lips shaking her head at her stupidity, "I … I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here, 'm gonna leave — ' " She's a weeping blubbering mess trying to stand up on her jello legs with the help of the couch's armrest. 

He catches her wrist crying out, "No! Don't! please, please stay . . . . fo' me?" Scottie has never seen him like this. Bended out of shape for a person, begging them on his knees to protect them as he rambles loudly. 

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden on you, I -- I'll go in the morning." Since she has nowhere to go it's better she sleeps here for a night instead of on the streets. 

Harry finds it ironic. That once he didn't want her overnights now he wants her all days and weeks, perhaps till the end of his life. 

He's gonna win her back.

He hands her his tattered comfy sleeping clothes and the spare toothbrush leaving her to it. When he comes back downstairs Scottie's waiting for him at the main door. 

"You should report a file against that bastard the first thing in the morning." Scottie tells him seriously and he nods. His head snaps when she spoke softly, smiling at him, "You're in love." 

"What?" 

"I haven't seen you like that with anyone, Harry. Make it to her foolish boi -- tell her what you feel." She laughs, jolting him with his shoulders and he smiles timidly bidding her a good-bye. 

The door to her room's ajar opened as he peeks inside to make sure she's okay and sighs deeply when finds her staring blankly at the ceiling. The floorboard creaks when he pads inside quietly and her stare diverts to him while he stands on the foot of bed, "I read somewhere that cuddlin' helps ye'sleep better, you w'na try?" She hums in return, fisting the duvet under her chin and slip shuts her eyes remaining stiff in her spot when he slides under the duvet closer to her. 

She turns into a puddle when his long arms wrap around her tummy, "Is this okay?" His voice a mere whisper of care earning an honest nod from her -- his thigh strings over her legs to cocoon her in his warmth completely, ". . and this?" She again nod at him so, 

He smushes his cheek into the crook of her neck and she could feel something moist on her skin while his lips puckered to speak, "Y/N?" He murmures broken and sad snuggling more into her. 

"Hmm?" She hums, the exhaustion from walking and crying this much forcing her to sleep, "I've missed you, terribly." Her heart leaps and she wants to exchange the familiarity of emotions but her tongue remains heavy in her mouth. 

// 

Her toes curls and fingers clutches the wrinkly fabric of the pillow case she had her head rested on but now it's slipping down from over it due to her body shaking vigorously as she tries to escape those filthy, gruesome hands like a terrifying shadows of evil choking her throat and sucking the life out of her. 

Harry's head snaps down to where she was snuggled to his side moments ago when she murmur-yells no,no,no,no'. He feels like someone placed a heavy brick over his chest at the sight of his lovie writhing like a leaf petrified of whatever she's dreaming of and his shoulders rolls back while he perches on his elbow to shake her gently out of it. 

"Y/N . . ." He remains dulcet. Chewing onto his already swollen bottom lip since he didn't even close his eyes the entire night manipulating the plush flesh, he doesn't know what kept him awake —- but it sure was this sense of responsibility to make her feel protected under his wings. She smacks his arm away pushing at his chest with her all might to skid away to the edge of the bed in her sleepy state, so he quickly hunches on wobbly knees to catch her before she falls. 

"It's just me, Angel, Harry –- wake up darlin'," His heart beating ominously frantic and head jumbling with horrible thoughts of what she's going through as her warmed up cheeks soak with tears, he has never seen her like this, he never wanted to see her for the first time after months like this --- shattered to pieces and drained of her energy.

He smooths his thumb to caress her cheek slightly and swipe those sad tears away. She wakes up with a gasp making him jerk his chin back, blinking rapidly to confirm her surroundings and her fearful vision zeros to his panicked features. She places her palms against his pectorals to make sure he's real and there and that ugly nightmare just ended, "Harry?" He gulps the thick web of tears down his throat and bobs his head. 

"Yes, sweet girl, Harry . . ." The very streaks of golden rays sneak through the curtains and dances between their faces as she fists the hem of his shirt, "It was just a nightmare." He assures her running his hand up and down her arms to calm her down. 

"Don't be afraid, dovie' won't let anybody hurt ya from now on, g'na protect you —--" It was the last straw for her before she flipped him over and climbed out of his bed to get out from his room. 

"Shit." He drives into a state of frenzy following her down the stairs like a puppy almost missing a step or two as she wears the slippers she came in last night, "Where ye' goin'?" His muscles twitch in a hurry to make his next move and save whatever's between them that's keeping him sane, " Dunno, away from you." She shrugs, lost in her own fog and the sting in his heart's unbearable with the inflammation of hurt. 

"Why?" He tumbles through the last step and infront of her, eyes bloodshot and heart how from the squeezing agony of loosing her for second time for the same cause. 

"Because, I w'na forget about you!!" The scream she had in her lungs to convey her anger gets stuck in her throat. His shoulders slump from the burden of guilt and regret. 

"Why?" He feels like throwing up with the unbearable anguish of him hurting to a point he wants to wash his memories out of her mind. 

"Because you make me so confused, Harry…" Her face pinches into an exasperated expression of hopelessness while she nudges him aside to pass by him and to the main door but he catches her wrist before she could step outside and never come back to him, "I wouldn't confuse you from now on …. 've been better fo' you y/n, 'cos I want you to know that I'm yours." His confession springes her off guard by pure stupefaction and when she looks at him -- he's already gazing at her as if she's the moon surrounded by singing stars. 

"Please, let me fight for you baby." Tears springs at his waterline ready to welcome a sob out of his lungs. Because he knows he'll be unable to live his life without her, his love will rot in the cage of his heart because he'd never be able to express it for anyone except her. 

He continues not holding back anything from her instead unlocking another love language and that's being vulnerable and completely defenceless to her, "While being with you I still thought a part of me was in love with my ex and I didn't want ya to be me second priority, could neve', was so so wrong 'cos even though you're not my firsts you're gonna be my lasts. I'll make sure that you're." He gulps down the tears blocking his wind pipes and making it difficult to speak. 

"I want you to give us another chance, to forgive me and give me a proper chance to love you 'cos that's what you deserve . .." The sincerity and genuineness in his stained smaragdine irises turns her pudgy in his hold, ". . . you deserve all the lovin' in this world, honey." 

"Work for it then." She tells him and his pretty eyes widen adorably as of some golden fish, a vivacious smile adorns his features and he doesn't take a moment before swiping her off her feet and into his arms to hug her tightly. 

His insides feels like nourishing after a time with contentment and satisfaction. 

To have his loved one in his arms. 

In his life.

"Thank you, Thank you, Thank youuu." He rambles into the crook of her neck, elated and joyful. Swaying their bodies together and making her smile softly after a prolonged time of suffering. 

She'll heal. 

He'll make sure to put ointment of affection and love on her wounds to help her heal, for herself but nobody else. 

// 

"You've got to be kidding me!" She mutters putting the alcohol swab on his torn bleeding knuckles and he squeaks locking his calf around her ankle, "Ouch! Ye' mad woman." 

Harry and her went to file a report against Kevin, along with Nora who became her witness because she despises that disgusting of a man to be even around her and her studio let alone her boyfriend. 

Harry was her biggest support through the whole process and dropped her off assuring her he'll pick all her stuff from Nora's place. There he was, Kevin. Stumbling at the footpath after Nora kicked him and his luggage out. 

Harry's very patient and optimistic but not when his loved ones get hurt. He didn't know what was happening around him before he sprinted towards Kevin and punched him square in his face, breaking his nose and busting his own knuckles with a fierce shout of "y'son of a bastard!" 

"If I ever . . . ever see ya near her, I promise that you wouldn't be able to see the living daylight." He grunted, resisting to hit him in the shin with his boots and walked past him to the studio to collect her stuff. 

He was grief stricken seeing the way she had to live and not finding her pet cat anywhere. His heart could be heard cracking into tinytinytiny pieces when Nora told him that Y/N gave it to the vet since she was unable to afford it. 

When she catches him staring up at her like a love-stricken puppy she huffs wrapping a band-aid around his knuckles, "'M mad at you." He seems unfazed making her gasp when brings her closer with his legs wrapped around her's, "Why . . . you're always mad at me." He whines jutting out his bottom lip and she shakes her head at his silly dotiness. 

"You -– you can't go hurtin' yourself fo' me, H." She's very unaware, because certainly he'd do it as many times. 

She narrows down her eyes to squint him in offense when he brushes her comment off with nonchalance and raises his bandaged wrist up to her face, "Will you kiss it better' fo' me, pet?" Her insides crumbles like dry rose petals falling from a beloved book of her favourite romances. 

"Hmm?" He nudges it in a questioning suppressing a smirk. She wipes her clammy and antiseptic hands down her trousers not meeting his gaze while taking his hand awkwardly but delicately closer to where her soft mouth is located; she halts glowering at him, "Only if you ask nicely." 

"That wasn't nice? Thought I was being a good boy there." He mumbles diligently pulling at the hem of her shirt and she bites down a smile, fingers still wrapped round his wrist. 

"Pretty please…?" He wheezes his words out begging-ly -- upper lip curving, pupils dilating and she shrugs, "..if you insist so.." His grin was immaculate that of golden sun when she pressed her lips to his knuckles carefully giving it a gentle pat afterward. 

"Not doing that again." She breathes out the air she was winding up inside her for so long. Spinning on her heels to turn her back towards him and put the first aid back under the sink, "We'll see 'bout that, let's do some grocery." He stands up patting his thighs loudly, "Wouldn't be surprised if we'll find bugs in me cabinet instead of goodies." 

// 

They've been roaming isles for an hour now and they always end up fighting who will push it. Harry doesn't let her because she keeps on filling it with instant noodles, chocolate bars and sakurai oreos. 

"How about we try to live till our fifties wouldn't be that beautiful?" He follows behind her closely. His chest brushes against her shoulders everytime she makes a stop to cooes over some brightly coloured food and candies, "'M trying to make it till next year, dunno 'bout you." She mutters grumpy-ly tossing another packet of cherry lollipop inside the trolley.

He puts it back. 

With a strict warning glare to her way. 

"I want you to stay healthy." He says sternly glaring up at her from his ducked position. She tosses the lollipop back from the shelf, "'M paying for my things." She dismisses him off panning deadly. 

"Fo' fucks sake, 's not 'bout money!" He grits annoyed at her stubbornness and she arches her brow leaning against the trolley, "Harry…'m not an actress or some high-paid model. Lemme enjoy real things, okay? Or just say you'd look too outta my league standing next to me." Her brows pints down into a frown and her shoulder slumps with her body further relaxing against the trolley. 

She's up for a debate with him right in the middle of the junk food aisle if that's the case.

"See. That's why I don't want to be married!" A couple from far banters off in astonishment catching Y/N completely off guard. 

"Uh-ah!" She yelps getting startled from the boom of interruption and a high-pitch squeaks leaves out of her petite lungs when the trolley rolls from under her perched elbow making her stumble for a nice trip but the bang never came as Harry coiled his arm around her waist to pull her on stable feet with a firm hand over her smallest of back. 

His gentle pupils flicker between her frenzied one's, noses tickling and teasing each other with each spurt of breath that rushes out of her parted soft mouth and against his cheek. 

"Maybe it's not that bad after all." The couple who were planning their future based on another couple, who's not even a couple yet but trying to work on it with their shared amount of affection; sighs in awement leaving Harry and Y/N in their own bubble. 

He takes her by the elbow and helps her with his lips thinned, "Careful there." His mumble is deep and coherent husk. 

She didn't whine about his green vegetables, boring low fat cheese and planned meals, celery or whatever that shit is, after that. Walking by his side like a kid who just got relief from his time out punishment. 

While on the counter she asked him politely rather than biting his head of, "Lemme pay please. I'm already imposing on you by staying at your place." She knows that he wouldn't let her. Harry wants to take care of her -- in every way. He just hopes she warms up to him slowly that there will be a day she thinks of his home as hers too, oh how the table turns! 

T'not make her think that his love for her is only restrictive to materialistic things he lets her pay --- but for half of it. 

"D'ya got a change, miss?" The cashier asks her and she cranes her neck up to him. He denies waving his credit card with a disappointed expression so she quickly takes a chewing gum from the racks beside in return for the change. 

He stops in his tracks. Watching her with glinting eyes more like fawning at her when she sways on her feet happily swinging the bag in her hold side by side. 

"C'mon Harry!" She grins twiddling her fingers in a gesture to usher him where she's standing beside his car, "Yup. On your command, darlin'." He shakes his head. To fetch himself from the fond-land he always enters with anything she does. 

// 

There's a low hum of telly buzzing in the room as they sit crossed legs on the coffee rug with their knees brushing if any of them moves their bum a tad, while they slurp onto the remaining soup in the noodles cup. 

This whole time he wanted to say something, to talk to her, his heart out and make it a domestic routine of sharing stuff while they eat comfy in eachother's presence but seems like his tongue betrays him everytime and his needy eyes always want to admire her and the little things she does. 

He licks his lips, nodding profusely when she asks for his cup and chopsticks to take to the kitchen. A huge sigh of relief vanishes out from his chest when she disappears inside giving him time to re-collect himself, he rummages through the bag to take out the chewing gum they bought at the last moment. 

He rips the packet with his teeth but it remains pressed there between his morals when he senses the familiarity of the foil --- she bought a fucking condom out of accident! 

At the same moment she pads outside halting in her tracks infront of him with a horrendous expression as her peepers wouldn't stop blinking. He doesn't not know what got into him but he throws it her way as if he's utterly disgusted by it. 

Sinks into the couch and refuses to meet her gaze. She throws it back at him, "I don't want it, keep it you might need it." There he goes. The smugness fuels back as he outstretches his arm over the back of the couch and man-spreads scrutinizing the way her eyes linger at his meaty thighs before flicking them away with a nervous gulp. 

"You've already planned it all out, hun?" He smirks rubbing the belly of his nose with his pinky's knuckle and she folds her elbows under her breasts shaking her head at his teasing, "Yeah planning to . . . murder you t'night." She laughs out evilly when his eyes widen comically. 

"Hmm. I see. Didn't know ye' were this kinky 'n naughty." She rolls her eyes at his edgy nip. She wouldn't admit it but him testing her patience turns her hot and flustered. 

"Night, H." She yawns and his heart grows ten times bigger at the softness of her appearance. She cranes her head against her shoulder to look at him from the spot she's standing at when his voice calls for her, "Y/N!? Ye'really into knives? In the bed I mean." His grin mischievous knowing fully well what he's doing to her as he waits for her answer propped on his knees. 

She slams the door at his face and he plops back into the sofa with a pouty victorious smile. 

// 

Harry didn't realise that in the middle of watching Gilmore Girls on the telly he fell asleep straining his neck from keeping it in a weird angle, his arms hugging the pillow and feet dangling adorably nowhere. He groans knuckling away the sleep and tries to wake up when he heard a feeble noise of someone taking his name until he looks up and finds Y/N towering him with her fluffy cream blanket pinched around her head darlingly. 

"What happened, pet? Y'okay!?" He gasps trying to sit up and take her precious face to inspect her properly but she shakes her head and lays him back gently. 

Her nose runny and cheeks rosied as she asks for a favour from him, "Can I -- um," She wipes her nose with the sleeve of her sweater paw. He doesn't question her further and opens his long arms to welcome her for a warm embrace. 

"C'mere, pet." His whisper delicate to her. 

She lies down pressed to his front resting her head on his sprawled arm and scooches herself closer to him smiling shyly against his hoodie where a Harry is embroidered in pink thread. It's like a gust of fresh spring and dew of nighty mountains as Harry takes a relaxing breather snuggling her impossibly affectionately close to himself, petting down her sweet smelling hair. 

"Y'can talk to me 'bout anythin'." Their heart-beats in sync as he keeps his palm spread at her back to protect her from falling, "Ye' know that right?" He pulls back to cradle her chin between his fingers and look her in eyes sincerely. 

"I know that button. Sleep for now, hmm?" He smiles softly, shutting his eyes from giving out how much a mere love name's enough to fuse him into a cloud of giddiness. 

// 

In the morning though, Harry's a small spoon and Y/N a big one. Her limbs trying to latch to his body in every way possible with her cheek smashed against his shoulder blade. 

His lips quirks up into a lazy loopy smile full of contentment and peacefulness as he weaves his each finger into her's to bring her knuckles to his mouth and smother it in kisses, "Rise n' shine you furball." He rasps. chin doubling adorably as he tries to look at his squirmy girl. 

He turns to face her side, temples touching and lips hovering over eachother's skin. He feels her smiling against his chin as she cuddles up into him, "I'd like to make you a brekkie…." She murmurs playing with baby curls on the nape of his neck. 

"Dunno 'bout that. What if you poison me, t'death?" He giggles and she smacks his belly pouting grumpy-ly. 

"Offer, expired. no more brekkie for you." She tells him wiggling out of his grip and walks towards kitchen but burst into gleeful laugh when he wraps around her calves like a koala bear, "Was jokinnnn', babe." He emphasizes his words with a twinge of whine and she meanders her hand in his ruffled curls. 

"Kay! Kay! But, I could only make you omelette and sour bread." He jumps back on his feet enthusiastically looping his arm around her clavicles, "No problem. Glad t'eat  anythin' made from your lovely hands."

She made him brekkie and he made fabulous peach tea for them. She blabbered off and he listened with careful ears. He praised her with glinting proud eyes and she treasured these praises in her heart. 

While she chewed slowly he messaged his manager that he couldn't come to any working place for a week or so. He wants to make it special and memorable for them, their honeymoon phase. 

"D'ya have any class today?" He asks her leaning towards her atop the counter, "Nope 's Saturday dummy." She chuckles flicking her thumb against his forehead and he gives a dimpled grin with bolted shut eyes.

"Yeah … silly me." 

"Why?" 

"So that I could take ye' ona date." His inners bouncing desperate to know her answer, "Me?" She points at herself surprised with parted lips.  

"Yes you, is there somebody else sitting with us? Hello?" He calls for that non-existent person and she suckles her bottom lip to subside her squeals down. She breathes out, "Some ghostie? Evil spirit? Jesus himself —-" She cuts his banter of. With a light slap to the back of his hand. 

"Okay." She says with an excited shake of head happiness bare in her words and Harry literally slips from his seat padding towards her in haste, "I'd love to." She confirms with a sweet smile and he hooks his nimble finger around her jeans loop to pull her closer to him for a fervid emotional hug. 

//

She was a frolic mess in her room trying out her outfits and fitting into her skirts, trousers anything that could match perfectly. Deciding to terminate any ideas to wear cotton floral sun-dresses instead ends up tucking a baby pink sweater into her chequered white and black plaid trouser along with a pair of Mary Janes booties. 

She took huge puffs of breath to calm her wild heart down when the knock on her door appeared. He decided to be a full on romantic today doing all the date rituals without any shame dressing up in a silk shirt three shades lighter than her's, with a pussy bow around his neck and she thinks she couldn't be more in love with him as he has a bunch of sunflowers and jasmines in the cracks of his jewels adorned fingers. 

"Well, well, well, Look who came to their enemy's door holding presents." She smirks and he scowls, "Oh cut it. 'M here to pick y'up fo' our date." 

What makes her lose her mind's Zippy on his shoulder.

"Oh my goodness! Harry!" She leaps towards him and takes her fluffy beast in her arms and showers Zippy's crown with many many kisses, "Thank you!" She cries out joyfully wrapping her free arm around his waist and cuddles him for dear life. 

"I lo —-- " She thinks it'd be embarrassing to say it on the first date and Harry almost had a mini heart-attack but she changed her words, "I can't be more grateful to you, thank you so much." 

"Now, stop thankin' me hunny." He gives her the flowers he plucked himself from his backyard and kisses the apple of her cheek turning her into a gooey mesh. 

"Where is it?" She avoids checking him out. 

"Why should I tell ya?" He nudges her to lock her elbow around his and she gazes up at him with loving eyes, "'cos 'm your date that's why."

"Bribe me then." He grins bashfully. 

"Harry!!" She gasps and huffs tipy-toeing timidly to plant a soft kiss to his chin but it lands against his throat making him thin his lips to give out a noise that could embarrass both of them. 

"Not telling you." He squeaks dragging her outside into the porch and she whines, "You leech!" 

// 

"You did not!" She snaps her neck in utter exhilaration from the view in front of her and towards Harry who's watching her with puffed cheeks to not to give out his bunny smile as her face turns guppy. The sunshine dawdles around them and she pulls him down to her level with the tug of their intertwined hands, "You're somethin' else, Styles." It warms his blood. Bursting sentiments of pure love and amiability through each orifice that leads to his heart. 

"Only fo' you." He whispers stroking the plush of her cheek -- restraining to place his needy  lips on her alluring pillow one's inviting him to have a good taste of their sweetness before they could taste the ripeness of strawberries growing at the farm he just took her. 

"Uhm. Let's see who could collect more!" She grins pushing herself three steps away from him with support of his pecs, "What's the prize?" He asks pawing at her hips to keep her in intimate distance and she giggles tapping his chin. 

"A feeling of saccharine-ss and sweetness when we'll eat those strawberries out." She tries not to step on heavy branches that are still growing and makes her way to the fresh patch, "Perhaps, that could be acquired from eatin' somethin' else out too." His wet lips brushes against her earlobe as he speaks, sending a shiver down her spine. 

"You're being very loud and lewd." She pokes him in ribs. Squatting down to pluck a juicy perfectly sized strawberry and hovering it against his mouth to give him a taste, "Hmm what could I say 'm a man of dirty words." His eyes darken to an intoxicating shade of emerald as his heart-shaped magenta lips wrap around the strawberry to split it in two with his teeth. 

He still remembers. How her mouth tasted that night, how her lips came molding around his's like a stamp of a lover's letter and her body fitted against his's like a lost piece of puzzle. 

Just made for him. 

"Harry …" She's out of words. Maybe, breath. 

"Yes dovie?" He hooks his finger into her belt's loop to saturate the thread like distance between them and makes tight hold at the nape of her neck to crane her head up to meet his honey eyed gaze, "D'ya know how to make strawberry mochi?" His shoulder slumps at her question and he rests his cheek atop her temple cutely. 

"Noo." His voice sort of whine-y. 

"No, problem. We'll make it together." She chuckles turning back to collect the strawberries into her basket. 

She never had this fun. Messing around with him. Feeding eachother the sweet fruit. Him scaring her that some rat sprinted by her feet and enjoying the way she jumps at him, only wheezing comically when she throws a blow at him. 

Her giggles bounces off each and every ivory flower and leafy plant as he pins her to the viridescent grass, with his thighs and tickles her non-stop. What started as raspberries turns into sloppy smothers of kisses all over her face. 

"Harry!!" She bursts into another fit of laughter, "Stop." She warns him squeezing her thighs around his waist and he giggles challenging her. 

"O'what? Huhh?" She closes her eyes nuzzling into his arm that's trapping her down, "Or I'll kiss you…" Her voice gentle and dulcet making his grip loosen and heartbeat fastens like a thunderbolt. 

"'M not afraid of that." He gives a toothy grin sneaking a glance at her hand which's gliding up his throat to cup his cheek, eyelids fluttering like petals from breeze as she smudges her sweet mesh coated lips against his's in a tenderly ardent, and yearningly amiable kiss feeling her pulse ring in her ears with so much force. 

His fingers make their home down her smooth hair to cup the nape of her neck, elbows digging into mud when he lifts her up to deepen the kiss sloppily. Just her. Only her. Swirling inside of him as his very thought. 

Their noses crooking perfectly, skins kissing and bodies hitched to eachother with the knot of souls. 

She whimpers into his mouth squishing the poor strawberry she was holding in her free hand from the intensity of fierce sentiments she's spiraling in; to have him all and swallow him all because he's that damn gorgeous. His tongue pokes and tickles the plush insides of her small mouth tasting the strawberry straight from where he loves the most. His belly burning with the fire of desire feeling the way her body's reacting with puriency to his subtle touches of affection. 

He was dying to have a kiss from her the day she gave him her lips that night and he couldn't resist but to think about it regularly. 

A wet filthy sound bubbles around them when they part away with the remnants of spit in the form of intricate strings connecting them; that breaks when he relaxes his forehead against her's taking a good breather of mossy air. 

"S' messy." He tuts when his eyes fall at her palm covered in strawberry pulp. 

She gasps giddy-ly when he pokes his pink tongue out and takes a huge swipe up her palm with an erotic hum that rattled her insides. 

"H -- arry." She nibbles at her bottom lip to filter noises she's unable to hold meanwhile he sucks her fingers one by one to clean them, her panties twisting with an ache of want. 

"Hmm. All nice 'n clean, now we should go." He says flipping her wrist to act as if he's inspecting it. Brushes the dirt of his trousers leaving her baffled and grumpy. When she doesn't stand up he squats down at her level arching a brow at her and before she could know what's happening she's thrown over his broad shoulder like a rag doll. 

Her squeals hearty and giggly as she tries to punch his back but her breath gets caught in her throat when his large hand comes spanking her butt-cheek. He waits for her reaction —- grinning cheekily when she sucks in her weak mewls and grabs the back of his neck blabbering his name off. 

He puts her back on the ground once out on the gravel path and hands her the basket piled with strawberries. Ducks down to sponge a kiss to her cheek telling her to stay glued to her spot as he leaves to pay. 

She smiles down at her feet then at the sky revinding all the moments and their lovely kiss that makes her feel all warm and stupidly gooey. 

While boarding the train he wiggles his finger behind himself to get a hold on her and keep her close to him, craning his neck with a lopsided sly smile, "Hold me hand." 

"If you insist." She nods with a grin slipping her fingers over his palm and he wovens them with his own with a firm grip stepping inside the train and helps her to do so with his free hand behind her head. 

She sighs. Sitting with her back pressed against the window of the train. One leg folded and other dangling from the seat as she stares at Harry with a pouty smile. 

"Don't ya think you're sittin' too far away from me?" He says, grabbing her knee, "Come here." And slides her towards himself now their thighs overlapping. He doesn't like even the mere distance between them —-- might sound sappy but he wants to be like her scent. 

"Happy?" She pinches his cheek and he winces dramatically ruffling her already loose tresses of hair making her look as if she was on a roller coaster minutes ago, "aren't you a one clingy bunny!" She huffs trying to blow away the hair falling in her eyes. He bobs his head in agreement and slings his elbow around her shoulders to tuck her under his chin protectively. 

// 

"Okie, now add some sugar in it —- aish slow down …" She coughs waving away the sugar dust tickling her nostrils as Harry poured so much sugar all at once. He has his chin rested on her head and her hips crooned against his thighs as they make the strawberry and vanilla mochi together. 

His puffer jacket on her shoulders (To the time they went to buy grocery stuff it started being cold and Harry being a mommy he took out his jacket and bundled her up in it) —- She sneezes and he quips pecking her hair, "Bless your heart." Fetches her a tissue too. 

"Thank you, bubs." She giggles grabbing his jaw bringing him down to smooch a kiss to his lips. She pulls back but he persists snaking his palm around the nape of her neck to keep her put —- she gives in with her heart fluttering like candle flame in a destructive storm. 

Turns in his embrace and hooks her elbows behind his head patching tiny, tiny, tiny pecks on his pillowy lips until he gets desperate to kiss her mouth and tongue pushing her to his front by gliding his hand into the back-pocket of her jeans. 

Her head lulls. Feeling as if the kitchen got filled with candy clouds floating around her when he cradles her cheeks in his both palms lapping at her bottom lip and nips at it with every whimper of desire that falls, "Mine." He breathes out rubbing the bridge of his nose up and down her cheek like a puppy nuzzling into his favourite plushie. 

"Yours." She says without any hesitation. 

He smashes his wet lips back on hers. Swirls of gleeful colours surrounding them as he feels like he could kiss her forever. 

She gasps gazing down lustfully at his wine cherried lips when he holds her from waist and sits her on the wooden counter, "I want you to take me." She murmurs nailing at the silk of his top and he paws at her hip-bones cravingly, it makes her feel like one the most desired women alive. 

"I'm all yours to pleasure you lovie'," He looks her in the eyes with so much love and affection it melts her whole, "Just ask me and I'll give me girl what she wants …. " He says trailing sloppy kisses down her throat. Her head falls against the tiled wall giving him more access to her skin --- so he could mark her as he wishes. 

The heat from his mouth to her bare skin arouses her to an extent she feels wetness sticking to the insides of her thighs with each grind of his crotch against her's. 

She tugs at the roots of his curls, mouth parted around a moan when he grazes his touch over her plump breasts, "Is this okay?" He asks breathlessly and she bobs her head vigorously latching onto him. 

"Yes, please, more … " He blinks to let reality sink in when she raises her arms in the air for him to get rid of her clothes. 

He smiles. Hard. Crinkles forming by his eyes and cheery lines around his mouth as she looks up at him with those doe eyes glinting with his own reflection. 

She squirms grumpily and he cackles loudly when she hooks his fingers into the hem of her jeans as a sign that "just undress me right now and fuck me hard over this counter." But, the romantic sap he's just keeps on being a tease. 

"Fuck me already." She huffs locking her ankles behind his back. 

"Trust me, I want it as bad as y'do but are you sure —-- " 

"I'm --- just fuck …. " She cuts him off, cupping his cheeks and kisses his mouth. He groans when she sucks his swollen lip in between his teeth and lifts her pelvis grinned against his swell lining in his trouser to elaborate her neediness through actions, 

He undresses her finally folding them and putting them away nicely while she stays a breathless mess just in her undies, her sheer panties soaked in her juices and profanities of moans fuses into air from both of them as Harry places his hands on her knees. Irises darkening with lust when he looks at the delicate lines of her drippy pussy lips forming from underneath the material. 

"Spread your legs, I want to feel how turned on I made you feel." His voice an obscene grunt and it tingles her core making her feel she should obey him, "Fuckin' hell." His moan is dirty as he rubs the pad of his long digits against her soaked centre. His piercing gaze flitting between her thighs crumbled her in the best way possible. 

She fists the hem of his top, tugging at it with the blabbering of his name. 

A series of pornographic whines leaves her through her nose when he demands her to raise her bum so he could get rid of the last thing being a bother to them. 

"Oh my — " She arches her spine when his fingers withered in her stickiness, between her glistening pussy lips to her mound pinching her clitoris in the way and listens to the soapy noises he's creating while lathering his hand with her juices he'd love more to coat his tongue with. 

"This is what you want, hmm? For me to bend you over this counter right fucking now and pump me thick cock inside your sweet cunt from behind till you're screaming for me to ram harder inside you, so deep that you feel me in your little tummy and I keep it there for hours making you cum on it again and again — many time that you're milky and cramped around my prick like a filthy girl you're." He dips his impossibly sweet pink tongue inside her mouth and makes her sip down his dirty words through her throat not letting her mewls slip out as his lengthy finger slicks inside her causing her melt against his chest with a turmoil of emotions and heat she never felt before. 

Her brain whirles with the mantra of fuckfuckfuck but her guppy lips says otherwise, she coils her arms around his shoulders scratching her nails down his neck — eyes rolling back as she shakes with the build of ecstasy. 

"You're so snug and warm, sweets. Can't wait to be inside you." He husks curling his digit to give her upper wall a good rub, "Harry!" Her scream comes out gruff vibrating with a sexy octave. 

"Yes, baby." He pinches her chin between his thumb and forefinger staining soft wet kisses from the corner of her lips, to her rosy cheeks and down her throat sewing love bites along her veins.

"Does it feel good, hmm? 'M g'na stuff you full of my prick bet it'll make you feel like heavens --" Her brows tenses up as he forces her to keep her eyes locked with his's and groans with the throb in his cock bound to implode with each whimper of his name she lets out hiking up her knees on the counter — the heels of her feet sticking firmly against the edge of the counter giving a carnally pleasing view for him to enjoy and ooze with sticky precum. 

He huffs out breathily, fingers sliding in and out at a fast pace while he moves down to take her perky nipple between his teeth teasing it with nip of his tongue, "Fuck. Mhmm baby I've so many dirty things to d'to you, would you be an atta girl and be naughty with me?" He nuzzles his curls against her skin grinding his knuckles up and down against her swollen clit. 

"Yes, yes, yes." She moans trying to sink impossibly deep on his fingers. He admires her in amusement as her belly twists into ripples and she thrashes in his tight hold —- broken into pieces of vulnerability foxily. 

He withers his gaze to where he's driving his fingers roughly inside her and a cold shiver runs down his spine, eyelashes fluttering and he sucks his bottom lip brutally praising her softly, "yes just like that darling taking my fingers so good —- they'll look pretty down your throat too while I'll fill your other holes with me, all me." He wraps a hand around her throat giving it a light squeeze and it was enough to spread warmth and the saccharine feeling of fullness in her every tissue gushing over his fingers. 

"You're mine." He growls nipping at her sweet spot –-- wearing her out with his continuous different motions inside her. His wrist glistening with her come and her head lulls on his tanned shoulder, eyes slip shut, chest levitating with shallow breaths. 

She cups his cheeks wrapping her trembling legs around his waist and kisses his smile, it's sloppy and barely a kiss with their lazy effort to keep their mouths on each other to soak into intimacy. 

Next they're a moaning and crying mess on the kitchen floor with her knee hooked around his hip to keep him close as he stretches her out leaving a pleasurable burn against her squishy inviting walls. 

His cock sits warm inside her pussy and his balls snug against her bum. It's torturous waiting for her to give a signal that he might move because he couldn't resist but to be rock hard inside her and fuck her for hours but his knees are laughing at him for being unable to bear the sting of cold tiles. 

"You can move, 'm okay." She whispers hugging him for dear life and he nods grinding his hips slowly, the bulbous head of his dick hitting all the right spots —- he's so good at fucking. 

He takes her fleshy tits in his palms caressing them with each lewd stroke of his cock inside her and treats her glistening lips from his spit back to his mouth, pecking it generously. 

"Pull me hair." He groans pushing hard and guides her hand into his swirl of sweaty curls — hips stuttering, eyes rolling back into his skull erotically when she does so peppering loving kisses under his earlobe, "You're g'na ruin me lovie … fuck me please." He whines grabbing her ass and lifts her pelvis to slide inside her dripping pussy with much more roughness. 

She has never seen him like this. Shredded to seams for her, sweat beading down his gorgeous face like glimmer of pearls and eyes mossed with so much lust and desperation it knocks air out of her lungs. 

He rolls them over gently and her squeal turns into a shameless yawp when he feels much more bigger than before inside her with her being on top of him —- he was right she could feel him in her tummy. 

She's clueless what to do. Not that she's gonna show it –- she doesn't want to give him an impression that she knows barely anything about riding but the way she begins with zealous back and forth movement digging the heels of her palms against his pecks wrecks him havoc. 

"You're doin' so good pet, yes, yes, yes. Use me baby. Use me like your little fuck toy 'm c'mon." He grabs the nape of her neck and brings her down to skim his tongue over her lips, manipulating the plushiness of them with his teeth. His balls slapping against her skin as she bounces on his cock diligently and he fists the soft flesh of her bum with both of his hands to help her ride him knows she's labouring herself out, "I'm all yours." He says caressing her sides to make sure she's okay and brushes the wisp of sticky hair behind her ear. 

"You're looking so sexy sitting on my dick like that -- how about I don't allow you to cum so you could keep me warm with your pussy like that fo' hours?" His pants out gripping at her thighs as his prick spills with wetness inside her and she cries out shaking, "No!" He smirks crinkled forming by his eyes and takes this chance to drive hard up inside her making her flop onto his chest. 

She gasps moistly, pulsating around him feeling every ridge and vein of his cock stroking against her walls creating obscene noises of skin meeting skin and their moistures mixing soapily like gooe.

"Cum fo' me baby -- squeezing me s' tight. I know you're there." His pants laboured and heavy as he sucks his own digits coating them with his spit nicely and glides them down pressing them to her weeping bud, then flickers it in prolong circles. Toes curling. His thrusts consistent and fast. She crooks her nose against his's murmuring to him with a wavering voice. 

"I'm gonna cum, fuck." 

"You're gonna make me come." 

Her eyes widen in surprise but her body reacts otherwise albeit she has never experienced it —- but her moans were uncontrollable when he spanked her butt cheek and she crampied down at him jolting tremendously with the wave of insanity spreading to her bones.

"I'm a naughty boy, give it to me." He kisses his teeth together man spreading and throwing his knees up to ram up inside her perfectly.

His eyes shuts till he could see white spotting behind them -- he spills inside her in form of thick ribbons and milks her cunt with it riding her out of her high. She clings to his body and snuggles into him to tone down the shivers running down her spine with each tiny orgasm she feels rushing out with his lazy thrusts.

"I'm jello." She tells him and he looks down at her with a mishevious grin, "Does that give me a reason to eat you whole?" She rolls her eyes poking at his cheek with a grossed out expression. 

"I'm still inside ye', remember?" He stirs his hips to make her realise and she yelps not know if it's making her feel hot or utterly sensitive, "You're insatiable." She mumbles pouting her lips to indicate him she's dying for his lips to smooch kisses to her. 

"No kidding I love the noises you make when you come undone." She confesses timidly drawing stars at his chest and he giggles kissing her temple gently, "Stop before you wake me buddy up again –- he quite fond of you." He blushes hiding his face into the crook of her neck with tiny voice. 

// 

They're canoodling under the fluffy blanket on the sofa watching telly after they just took a bath together, shampooing eachother with peach scents and drying eachother off with warm towels. She's nuzzled into his side wearing one of his baby yellow robes, his arm stays around her shoulder thumb addicted to caressing her silky cheek, sometimes spreading his fingers down her throat to tip her chin up to smooch sweet kisses on her lips.

"You're cute when you're not a pest." She giggles and he frowns comically pretending to munch her alive, "That's very rude -- you should be thankful that I lov — " Her heart almost stops functioning. 

They were sipping onto their green teas and nibbling onto the strawberry mochi they made and refrigerated before when the doorbell rang making them groan in laziness.

She stood up going to see what took Harry so long on the door and got revealed to him talking instinctively to whoever rang the bell. 

"Hi, Y/N." Scottie smiles at him. Carrying her luggage and Y/N looks down at her attire for a second then forwards her hand shyly. She was so scared that day –- it's a blur to her but now she watches Scottie properly she realizes …. She's the same girl from all the paparazzi photos.

Something switches off inside her. The rainbows and confettis, the moonlight and stars and the nebula of the whole galaxy she had consumed in her little body from making love to Harry just shuts down into a white noise.

Her bottom lip plumps into a pout. Eyebrows trembling from this confused feeling of some invisible thing squeezing the life out of her. 

She's jealous. 

"I just came here to say bye." Scottie's voice makes her focus back into reality. 

"Oh…" She just nods. She doesn't return the hug even though her brain guilt trips her for that and when Scottie leaves with the air thick and tense, Harry corners her in between a wall and piece of furniture cradling her grumpy face in his careful palms speaking gently to her. 

"You don't 'ave to worry 'bout her, she's just a friend …. Infact you don't have to worry 'bout anyone because I love you so so much baby that I don't see myself spending me life with anyone else." She glances up at him twice, jaw falling slack from shock and he chuckles smothering her in kind-hearted kisses when she stares at him like a hawk. 

"You what!?" 

"I love you, Y/N." Her eyes closing like a moth flapping nearer to fire and finding peace in burning inside it. 

"I love you too so much." She whispers and welcomes his lips melting against her ardently. With the passion only lovers hold. Amiability she couldn't find anyone else but in his embrace, in his kisses and his lovemaking. 

"Can we go back to cuddlin'? Me feet gettin' cold baby." He whines treading fastly into the living room while carrying her like a kitten from behind and makes squeaky noises once snoozed under the warmth of the blanket. 

He touches their foreheads. Kissing the tip of her nose adorably. 

"I love you." Then burst into giggles. When she returns the passion coyly. 

"I love you too." 

[imnotwolverine]

Wolfie’s Fic Recs | The Grand Library of Kink 1/2

THE GRAND LIBRARY OF KINK - Allow me to give you a list of treats to quench the unbearable thirst between your thighs. 

>> Looking for part 2 of this list? <<

🖐WARNING: NSFW - SMUT below the cut 🖐

Author’s note: Let’s be honest. You probably are prowling the Tumblr grounds for the same reasons I am: there’s some darn good porn fics out here. And in the year I’ve been in the Cavillry, I’ve gathered a most wondrous collection of soft to extremely kinky fics. Time..to make a more comprehensible list of my favourites thusfar! (💦It’s long, so you better have some fresh panties at the ready💦)

In this library you’ll find:

Part 1:

Self-help 101  

Cherry Popping Goodness 

Vanilla With A Sprinkling Of Sex Toys 

Vanilla - Toybox Special 

Henry’s Hands Special

The Hook-up

Part 2:

Sensory Delights

The Triple Threat  

Fuck - The Geralt Special

Take It Like A Pussy - The Napoleon Special 

Hammer-time - The Walker Special 

Cpt. Cunnilingus - The Syverson Special

Thighs And Canes - The Sherlock Special 

Fem!DOM 

--

Self-help 101

[This one’s all about the act of self love - solo masturbation]

Toys are for boys. Unless it’s in the bedroom..right? Almost The Same by @lunedelorient  [Henry x Reader]

Mike can’t help himself as his gaze falls upon your lipstick stains on a beer bottle. Where else would he like those stains to be? Lipstick by @emyearns [Mike / reader]

A toy arrives to sweeten the lonely nights when Henry is away. There’s only one minor detail as the package is being unwrapped; she isn’t alone yet. Flying Solo by me [OFC x Henry Cavill]

I love fics written in Henry’s point of view. In this one Henry can’t take it no more. He simply needs to let off some steam; I Need A Woman by @chamomilebottom [Henry Cavill x reader]

This man gets caught..a lot, doesn’t he? You give Henry a helping hand as you catch him in the shower in Welcome Home by @rosethornsanddaisies [Henry Cavill x reader]

I wasn’t sure whether I should put this in the self-help section. So consider yourself warned: watch out..you’re in for a solo-lovin’ surprise in On Display by @ladyreapermc [August Walker x Reader]

--

Cherry Popping Goodness

[There’s a first time for each flower to bloom - loss of vaginal/anal virginity]

The bookstore meet-cute, the skipping heartbeats, and the fluster of cheeks as she just read a steamy passage of her book aloud. It’s the perfect recipe for romance...though there is one tiny, tiny... Her Minor Thing by @ladyreapermc [Henry Cavill x erotica novelist!OFC]

For one night only, gigolo August Walker will make all your fantasies come true. His specialty? Sweet, innocent little flowers. Velvet Chains by @littlefreya [August Walker x reader]

The morning after the cherry popping, a bud starts to bloom. White Honey by @littlefreya [Henry Cavill x reader]

This fic! This. Fic. I hadn’t seen I Capture The Castle when I read this fic, but it made me fall for Stephen so freakin’ hard that I kind of watched the movie straight after. It’s sweet, blushing-cheeks worthy and utterly cinematic. Bluebells by @yespolkadotkitty [Stephen x reader]

August Walker, a virgin? Well..there’s a First Time For Everything by @hope-to-hell [August Walker x reader]

Theseus didn’t mean it to go this way. But he was so thirsty - and now for more then just a drink of water. To Die of Thirst by @hope-to-hell. [Theseus x reader]

It’s Geralt’s first time and isn’t a Witcher body just a fascinating thing..hmm... Anatomy Lessons by @princess-of-riviaa [Geralt x experienced!reader] 

I didn’t know bullet point lists could be this sensual and H.O.T. - First Time w/ Henry by @henchry [Henry Cavill x reader]

GOODNESS ME. Can first times be like this for everyone, please and thank you?! My Flower gives you squirt-inducing, sweet talkin’ Henry making the most out of this special little moment. By @viking-raider [Henry Cavill x reader]

Wait till marriage with August? Highly unlikely....right? Uncharted Territory by @chamomilebottom [August Walker x reader]

Now onto some other sanctuaries to plunder. (Anal that is) Poker Night @foodieforthoughts [Syverson x OFC]

Lets @littlefreya’s words entice you into a new world as you and Henry finally pick the Forbidden Fruit (yep, anal again) [Henry Cavill x OFC]

And now we’re on the anal train, I do notice that men barely ever get any backdoor lovin’ from their partners. And I know, I know: most men are really apprehensive about it. But goodness can it be good! Sy has learned of it’s sweetness and reminisces that first time in Sy And The Sex Tape by @hope-to-hell [Syverson x reader]

--

Vanilla With A Sprinkling Of Sex Toys

[Couple’s sex with just a touch of kink] 

Let’s start with a game. Written in the language of love (French that is), this enticing bit of foreplay gets the blood streaming alright. Invisible Touch by @emelinelovesjc [Henry Cavill x reader]

Is it time for my favourite poetic foreplay fic?! YES it IS! Ode by @wolvesandhoundshowltogether just does something for me and I can simply not explain - just go ahead and read it and see for yourself! [Henry Cavill x reader] 

The key to good sex, is foreplay. And teasing during an event? You bet your  sweet ass you can get Henry riled up. Tease by @captainbigdy [Henry Cavill x reader]

Ready for some myrrh mountain-esque, super indulgent eroticism? Read Confessions by @captainbigdy [Henry Cavill x reader]

Birthday sex

What do you give a man who has it all, for his birthday? A little boudoir, a little make-out on the couch and...Happy Birthday by @rosethornsanddaisies [Henry Cavill x reader]

Apparently boudoir pictures for Henry’s birthday is on y’alls mind! A Picture’s Worth by @sunflowersstan gives you a belated birthday present - but that definitely should not spoil the fun. [Henry Cavill x reader]

Home (coming)

For once, Henry is forgiven for his ungodly early alarm clock: it’s beach time! And Kal will be there too. Home by @chamomilebottom [Henry Cavill x reader]

Henry, unfortunately, isn’t always home. In fact, he’s away quite a lot. Meaning it’s all the important to make up for lost time: Welcome Home by @geralt-of-baevia [Henry Cavill x reader]

And what’d you do if he finally comes home, but an impromptu surprise party is organised by his friends? Better Keep Quiet, baby. By @toomanystoriessolittletime [Henry Cavill x reader]

Does that come with side effects? When a 200 pound beast tackles you after coming home, you just might feel it in the next few days. Lust Worthy by @viking-raider [Henry Cavill x reader]

Home is also domestic goodness ( “Can I, baby?” He whispers against your cheek, placing a soft kiss to it, his eyes searching to meet yours. >> I mean..YES YOU CAN!! DO WHATEVER YOU MUST YOU HUNK OF A BEAR 😩) in this sweet ficseries chap by @lovelycavills: The Night [Henry Cavill x reader]

Tropes to lovers 

Friends to lovers trope, anyone? Of Fck It by @tillthelandslide gives you beers on the couch, friendly banter and then WOOPSIEDOODLIEDOO. [Henry Cavill x reader]

More friends to lovers with one accidental wet dream while lounging on the couch with Henry. Dreaming by @yoursecretsmutblog [Henry Cavill x reader]

Or perhaps PA/boss to lovers? Thunder by @toomanystoriessolittletime gives you Henry in full Geralt gear and rain..lots and lots of rain - meaning it’s time for a ..😏break. [Henry Cavill x OFC]

One more PA story to get the storm in your pussy settled. Years after working for Henry, you send a drunk text and he Answers. In the flesh. By @toomanystoriessolittletime [Henry Cavill x reader]

Audio porn

Another thing I got quite attached to while I learned all about my kinks here on Tumblr, is audio porn. And what better than to have Henry do some audio recording for us thirsty women? Erotic Audios Present... By @thetaoofzoe [Henry Cavill x OFC]

More audioporn!Henry? @toomanystoriessolittletime has got you covered with Talk Dirty To Me, starring photographer Henry who has had.. a bit of a past - and doesn’t his voice sound terribly familiar? 🧐[au!Henry Cavill x reader]

Communication

Smutty fics practically always skip the “So what do you actually like”-part. Well. This fic covers it - and then some. The Interview by @peachyvulpixie. [Henry Cavill x OFC]

And communication is very - very important. Especially when moving stuff around, right Henry? A Little Bit To The Left by @lunedelorient [Henry Cavill x OFC] 

Communication is also key when you want to decide on sub/dom dynamics. Switch has daddy vibes, but in a domestic, confidential, well-established relationship. By @viking-raider [Henry Cavill x reader] 

Or, you may just want to tell sweet Henry that it’s definitely okay to get a little louder between the sheets. Express Yourself by @viking-raider [Henry Cavill x reader]

A thrilling ride

Want to “chose your own adventure” in smutty style? @sciapod’s got just the thing you’re looking for with BD Morning Energy  [Henry Cavill x reader]

Sometimes it’s rough, sometimes it’s sweet, but ever and ever; it’s truly Henry. Read about various types of horny Henry in Shapeshifter by @wanderinglunarnights [Henry Cavill x reader]

Body/orgasm insecurity

This was a very personal piece to write. I have difficulty reaching orgasms, especially with a partner, so for all fellow ladies with the same little problem: Henry is here to give you some Riding Lessons between the sheets. [Henry Cavill x OFC]

And I’m so, so glad that there’s at least a few of you here on Tumblr who can also get a little worried and even impatient between the sheets. Thankfully Henry is the posterboy of Patience, ready to unravel you piece...by.. delicious..piece. By @captainbigdy [Henry Cavill x OFC] 

Nipple love

Female nips get all the lovin’. But male nipples? Not often. Tease by @the-soot-sprite will make sure that is taken well taken care off. [Henry Cavill x reader]

Alright, and now for a little female nip-nip action, let’s dive right into the action. Rough lovin’, shovin’ Cavill is showing you how terribly fucked out he can get you in In My Thoughts by @jolly-polly [Henry Cavill x reader]

Horizontal vs. vertical sex 

Shower sex is such a delectable topic to read about (even though in real life it’s usually awkward and impractical). Let your dreams bring you..after workout Showers with Henry by @darklydeliciousdesires [Henry Cavill x reader]

Or perhaps honeymoon shower sessions? Mirror by @tillthelandslide [Henry Cavill x OFC]

Did someone say honeymoon? Marshall remembers having to climb through that darn window the night before he married you and it makes for a super sweet, domestic fluffy smutty sex scene. And did I mention there was family right at the other side of the door? 👀 Locked by @fourmarkdove [Marshall x reader]

After all that working out it’s time for some food. But what would Henry prefer: ragu or you? What’s Cooking by @writingforhenry [Henry Cavill x reader]

Netflix and Chill

Netflix and chill, anyone? This Movie Night becomes a little steamy 💦 by @writingforhenry [Henry Cavill x reader]

It’s really difficult to watch tv with Henry around, and Freya gets a little frustrated with his incessant teasing; can a woman not just watch some Mindhunter in peace, damnit?! The Refund by @wolvesandhoundshowltogether [Henry Cavill x OFC]

Play-time! 

From game play to girlfriend play during an extremely boring day in lockdown. Confined by @darklydeliciousdesires [Henry Cavill x reader]

More game chair smuttiness? It’s Game on! Mic on! - And ..Eh.. wait..what?! By @thecavillchronicles [Henry Cavill x reader]

Is tickle-play a thing? After a long day where everything seems to have gone wrong, you just need a good shag and Mike will make sure you can Sleep soundly tonight. @emyearns [Mikey x reader]

Alright, it’s a thing. Here’s some more tickle play with Marshall. Laughing During Sex by @promptandpros [Marshall x reader]

Hereby I declare that hairplay is also a thing. And with curls like Henry’s..I mean..come on. Love So Soft gives you dry-humping like horny teenagers after a bad day - and yes..hairplay. By @princess-of-riviaa [Henry Cavill x reader]

Needy Henry

Sad sky eyes are in dire need of some medicine, but Rose doesn’t realise until she’s getting some action for herself that the best medicine for Henry’s malady, is probably not watery soup. In Morbus Et Salus by @fanficsrusz [Henry Cavill x OFC]

Drunk Henry is in need of a midnight snack. And it’s a good thing there just happens to be one in his bed. Drunk In Love by @angrythingstarlight [Henry Cavill x reader]

And the next morning he might just be a really, really needy bear. (My boyfriend, for one, is always EXTRA horny when he is hungover 😂) Five More Minutes by @angrythingstarlight [Henry Cavill x reader]

A few more

And five minutes is probably all you get when you have kids. But it just makes these little mommy and daddy moments all the more sacred. Close To You by @the-soot-sprite [Henry Cavill x reader]

There’s also not a lot of time when you’re in a limo, trying to get your groove on. 🎶Driver roll up the Partition pleaseee 🎶by @fanficsrusz [Henry Cavill x reader]

Now to finish off this vanilla segment: vanilla kisses! Lick Me Till Icecream by @the-soot-sprite [Henry Cavill x reader]

--

Vanilla - Toybox Special 

[A special toy segment for you vanilla(ish) lovers] 

When it’s play time - long work day or no - Henry better be prepared for some frisky business. On Purpose by @wanna-do-bad-things (also hell yes for including some toys!) [Henry Cavill x one very frustrated OFC]

More toys? MORE TOYS! Command And Obey brings you dom!Henry being a terrible teasing ass, but alas..it still gets you all kinds of wet *shrugs* By @wanna-do-bad-things [Henry Cavill x reader]

Perhaps need some dom!Clark instead? With toys? We’ve got you covered. By @poledancingdinos [Clark x OFC]

Now, let’s not forget about Henry’s favourite toy of them all. His bike. In Good Vibrations by @deathonyourtongue [Henry Cavill x reader]

You find Henry pleasing himself with something you didn’t even know he owned; a fleshlight. Henry’s Toy by @viking-raider [Henry Cavill x reader]

--

Henry’s Hands Special 

[I can’t be the only one who has the hots for hands]

Having a bad day? Talented fingers belonging to one caring man of a Henry are here to let off your steam. Burn The Couch by @meowpurrbooks [Henry Cavill x reader]

I’m glad I’m not the only one who has a complete and utter obsession with male hands. This fic is amazing in every way. It’s got suspense, hands AND Henry; Idle Hands by @thelastsock [Henry Cavill x Reader]

More handsy stuff is offered in this private drawing session. Draw Me With Your Fingers by @emelinelovesjc [Henry Cavill x OFC!author]

This fic? ..it’s hands-on work. I must give a disclaimer: I’m hard to please when it comes to daddy!fics, but this one I truly enjoyed. It perfectly rides (hehe) the fine balance between rough throat fucking, choking and usage of the endearing nickname ‘little fawn’. Hands by @twhstuckylover [Henry Cavill x reader]

Henry’s hands are here to warm you up on a cold day in Finger Work by @yoursecretsmutblog [Henry Cavill x reader]

--

The Hook-up

[A little less established, a little more messy. But definitely h-o-t-h-o-t-h-o-t]

Changing rooms may just hide a Dirty Secret (and crotchless pantyhoses) by @foodieforthoughts [Henry Cavill x OFC]

Being toyed around, Henry can’t stand it any longer - and goodness where did he leave that darn bowtie?! Caught In The Storm by @thelastsock [Henry Cavill x Reader]

Syverson is also not one who likes to be toyed around with, especially when you’re in the same bar wearing that deliciously short dress and his favourite high heels. Mine by @yoursecretsmutblog [Syverson x reader]

Dancefloor delights and popping buttons (is this a good time to admit I have ripped some shirts like that? *woops* 😅) - this quite exhibitionistic fic is an utter delight and I’m Glad You Came  by @foodieforthoughts [Henry Cavill x reader]

Since this is steady-hook-up I wasn’t sure whether to post it in this segment or the Vanilla segment, but ..yea..it definitely deserves a read! Rules Of Engagement has Em and Henry coming to the realisation that a friendly hook-up isn’t all that easy. Especially not when one foul IUD throws baby dust in their busy lives. By @ladyreapermc​ [Henry Cavill x OFC] 

Marshall specials 

An old friend/lover shows up just when you find yourself with the predicament of a broken down car. Before you know it you’re having car sex with one curly haired police officer in..yea..a police car. A Perfect Shitty Day by @toomanystoriessolittletime [Marshall x reader]

OOPH you girls are in it for the Walter hook-ups. Forget That Asshole follows up after you had one particularly disappointing blind date. And thankfully a blue eyed sweater-bear-man is there to provide you some much needed consolation.  By @penwieldingdreamer [Marshall x reader]

Sex on set

On set things might just get a little steamy, so might as well take ..*clip scene* ACTION! Touch Me Tease Me by @deathonyourtongue [Henry Cavill x OFC]  

More on-set delights? Perhaps with a touch of embarrassing nerves? Directed By La Petite Mort by @wolvesandhoundshowltogether [Henry Cavill x reader]

--

>> Looking for part 2 of this list? <<

--

Artworks/edits are mine ❤️And as always: if you have more fic recs to add, share them in your reblogs/comments! 

--

[fangirl--writes]

A Dance. Jeremiah Valeska x Reader

 AN: Hello!  Long Time no see huh? I have started writing again and what better way to start than with the softest boi! 

Link to the song the Reader plays: https://youtu.be/pIgZ7gMze7A

Let me know what you think and if there should be a part two?? 

I was aiming this is right before and during S04/E17 

*****************************************************************

It was still.

Soundless suave from the occasional tick of the old hands of the grandfather clock placed elegantly in the corner of the spacious room.  Dust was gathering on the table tops; you had been ignoring it for about a week or so.

Sometimes it gets to him-

Sometimes.

Your significant other, Xander Wilde.

Lately he’d been holing himself in his office, or on a conference call with his associates.

The stoic, ginger haired man was busy, you understood this.

Owning your own company was a lot.

Your leg began to bounce softly off the edge of your cushioned chair, tapping against the plush fabric to a rhythm familiar as you turned the next page in your book.

He was busy sure- but he made time for you.

Dinners, take out naturally delivered by his proxy.  Movie nights, occasionally spent curled up on the couch that now sat neglected on the other side of the room.

Your favorite however; was the times he’d flip on the record player; the corner of his lip would twinge in the faintest of grins. His knowing grin as you called it, he’d usually flash one as he selected the music for your dance.

Xander’s ocean eyes would drift over to you, peeking from over the top of his glasses as the record would start sending you into a near giggle fit every time.

He’d reach out, sweep you off your feet and gently glide around the room in an endless nonsensical pattern. His hand was on your waist as he led you in an imaginary waltz, pulling you ever so close your noses nearly touched.

He was different then, his face would drop into his rare soft grin and his eyes, you would dare say light up watching you. Your hands crawling up his shoulder and gliding down to hold his to hold him closer.

You’d lay your head on his chest and let the world, the worries, the work go.

It was nothing when you carelessly stepped across the carpeted living room, twirling about without a care in the world.  

You took a breath marking the page in your book.  You’d reached out to his proxy, and requested a new record, something with a little more…kick.

Well, new was perhaps not the right term but kick, definitely yes.

You rose from your plush chair, stretching your back as you set the book down. Your eyes laid on the solid wooden door that separated you from your beloved.

If layers of dust and neglected dishes piled in the sink wouldn’t make him see you, perhaps this would.

With a careful hand you spun the vinyl. The cover was worn and slightly tattered from use, you inspected it momentarily before pulling out the record. Gently you laid it on the turntable, setting into place before slinking over to the door.

You sucked in a breath as you paused hesitant at the door.

“Xander?” his name tumbled from your mouth as you rasped against the heavy wood.

No response.

Perhaps he didn’t hear you.

Again, you knocked calling his name louder.

Silence met your reserve as you let out a small huff, impatient.

The wheels turned in your head as you stared into empty space. A soft smile twitched on the corner of your lips.

Working is one thing, but ignoring you is another.

With narrowed eyes you strode back to the turntable, with a flick of your wrist you switched it on eyes darting back to the door again, just in case.

Gently you pushed the dial for the volume, going about as high as it could before setting the needle down to put your plan in motion.

The smooth instrumentals sent your body swaying as the music blared through the den.

You shifted the weight in your heels as you twisted about keeping a watchful eye on the door.

The music swept through the room, sending you into a state as your mind focused on the beat.  

You put the boom-boom into my heart

You send my soul sky-high

When your lovin' starts

You swept around the furniture spinning and twirling around aimlessly, singing as loudly as you could manage. No longer was the warm reserved space a living room, melting away in your mind’s eye to stage, open and wide just for you. The soft lamp lighting transformed to bright spot lights that strobed the walls.

Jitterbug into my brain

Goes a bang-bang-bang

‘Til my feet do the same

The words fell from your mouth as if on cue, your chest heaving as you shouted out into the invisible crowd.

You didn’t notice as the door to Xander’s study cracked open, his face twisted into a disgruntled sneer as he looked out into the living room, annoyed his work flow was interrupted.  The walls were shaking. His concentration broken as the acescent rumbling pounded through the door.  His chest tightened as he prepared to scold you for being so loud.

His brows rose into a curious arch as he caught sight of your form twirling about. Your nose wrinkled as your face contorted fixated on the words as you sang blissfully unaware of his presence.

For a split second he contemplated turning the music down, alerting you to his presence and going back to his work, those thoughts were quickly discarded as he found himself rooted in place eyes glued to you.

He leaned against the wooden frame, mouth still agape as his eyes followed your enraptured movements, you were so enthralling, the way your hips swayed and your body danced about, wrapped in your own little world.

You take the grey skies outta’ my waay

You make the sun shine brighter than Doris Day

You turned a bright spark into a flame

My beats per minute never been the same

You were singing… about him.

Xander felt his body tense, his dark brows furrowed in thought. Recently, he’d been neglecting you for his most recent project. He’d skipped dinners taking them in his office, or not eating at all, working so late into the night that he’d come out and find you curled up on the couch, the book you were reading hanging loosely in your hand or fallen forgotten on the floor.  

Each time his heart panged with regret, yet, he still overlooked you…

After all this time, you still cared about him. He noticed when you set out meals for him lovingly wrapped up with a hand written note or brewed coffee before you fell asleep. His eyes fell to the table and the dust that was layered on its surface… usually the two of you would clean together. An activity that calmed you both, a menial task. But one that was fun when he was with you, the way you’d turn dusting or dishes into a game or just a time to reflect and enjoy.

He admired you, finding your sense of wonder and forever finding joy in something so small endearing.

As if on their own, he felt his body throw its self forward his feet following suit. He reached for your hand; his face flushed as he took hold of your wrist, your eyes opening in realization.

“X..Xander…” his name was soft on your lips as you peered up at him.

Your eyes sending him into a flustered frenzy he moved to spin you, trying to match the rhythm as he tottered with the music.

This wasn’t the type he was used to; the soft melodies of classical were typical in your shared home, gentle waltzing that was slow and simple.

You giggled as he clumsily danced with you, his fingers laced with yours as he awkwardly watched his feet as not to step on you. Your fingertips softly lifted his chin to meet your bright gaze, wordlessly you beckoned him to follow you.  He sucked down a needed breath copying your motions, quickly coming in to his own as he spun you in his arms.

His blush faded as he moved with you, eyes settling on your face. He felt his cheeks crack as a faint line of a smile graced his lips. Xander cherished these moments with you, savored them, however; he couldn’t force back the slivers of voices whispering in his ears.

Fraud

If only she knew the real you…

She wouldn’t be dancing cheek to cheek with a monster...

 Your head tipped as your lover stared ahead aimlessly his blue eyes faded behind his glasses. His chest steadily falling in shallow breathes as his grip loosened on your hands.

You been through so many of these with him, they’d become more frequent in recent months and you couldn’t figure out why.

Gently you pushed yourself against his chest as you caressed his cheek with the pad of your thumb, gingerly reaching to press your forehead against his.

He shifted under your hand, sweeping his arm to your waist to pull you closer as his eyes closed as he basked in your touch.

“Darling…”

His voice was barely a whisper as he pressed into your hand.

“I… need to

 “Sir-

The urgent voice of his proxy pulled his head away from yours. Your eyes flickered to her rigid form in the door way to the labyrinth.

Immediately Xander straightened himself. Your hand falling to the way side as you took a step back.

He took a in cool breath, collecting his thoughts as he adjusted his suit jacket. His calculated eyes turned to you again; a look of faint concern etched on his face.

Xander’s tone shifted.

“Ecco take Y/N to our room.” 

It wasn’t a suggestion, rather a command.

His hands reached to squeeze yours in some attempt to soothe you as he stepped closer. 

The woman in the door way quickly made a move towards you.

“What’s going on?” Your voice hitched in your throat as you spoke, gaze bouncing confused between the two figures.

“Xander, Please-

You spoke again, voice cracked with worry as Ecco touched your arm nodding to her boss.

His eyes were downcast, his gaze going past you to the floor as his head shook softly. He pulled away swiftly moving past you before you could latch on to him.

“Ecco will keep you safe.”

The young blonde pursed her lips as her grip tightened, her voice was hard as she pulled you from your spot on the floor.

“Come with me miss.”

“Xander Wilde-

Your feet were firm as you rooted yourself down; your voice was harsh as you called after him again.

You will tell me what is going on!”

He paused just before he slipped away from view, your tone causing him to freeze; hesitating only for a mere moment before continuing on his way his eyes front.

You felt weak as he vanished down the slinking hallways of the maze.

 Ecco tugged at your arm, now half dragging you along as she led you away from the den. Your eyes glued to the spot where he stopped, hoping he’d come back for you.

The record was forgotten now, music long over. The needle scratching endlessly in the silence of your screams, a faint memory of what was only an hour ago. You were blissfully unaware then, completely and utterly clueless to how your life would burn in the turmoil of what was coming.

tag list: @valeskaduh @seldomabsent @violentvaleska @fuwa-fuwa-yandere

If anyone else would like to be on the list just drop a comment down below!

[babbushka]

Hello My Dear! I Hope you have fun and relax this weekend! I was hoping to request some Mob!Kylo and reader! Perhaps the reader has to go away from him for a short period and then they reunite? Thank You!!!!!!!!!

Thank you so much for asking and thank you for your patience! I hope you enjoy this little something :)

Young mob!Kylo; 1k no warnings just fluff !

He can’t stop it, the pacing. You’ve been gone for three days now. Three days, twelve hours, and thirty four minutes. This is the longest that you’ve ever been apart from him ever since the incident, ever since that fateful night. It makes Kylo’s hands clench into fists, makes his leg bounce in anxious anticipation of your return. He’s at the apartment, a humble something that he’s only renting for now. He doesn’t have the money to buy you the penthouses that you deserve, not yet. So instead he’s in this brownstone pacing back and forth back and forth.

The clock on the wall tick-toks again, thirty-five minutes. Kylo sighs, chews on his lip, and he paces.

That is, until Fives, who has been dutifully sitting by the window for the past two hours, snaps his fingers, immediately drawing Kylo’s attention when he murmurs, “She’s back.”

Kylo is running out of the apartment before Dopheld can even put the car in park. He bolts down the building steps two at a time, round and round until he’s practically flying off the front stoop, stumbling from too much momentum as he crushes you into his arms.

“Thank fucking god.” He kisses the top of your head and hugs you tight tight tight. Dopheld unpacks your bags from the trunk of the car, silently carries them up the steps. He’s just gotten his license and is on a trial period. If he does well, Kylo will hire him as a full-time chauffer, and Kylo notices the way that he treats your bags with the utmost care.

“Hi honey, I missed you.” You’re melting into his embrace, your arms winding around his middle as you snuggle into his chest, right there on the curb.

That shouldn’t be as marvelous of a sentence to Kylo, he knows. You’ve been dating for a couple months now, officially and truly dating. You lived together in this little apartment together, you held his hand and kissed him on the mouth, and yet somehow, the thrill of those few words sends a shiver down his spine.

“You missed me?” Kylo grins there in the dark, a rare sight these days. He’s been too busy with the Business, getting it off the ground again. He’s going to make a name for himself, he’s decided. Now that his father’s dead, now that Snoke is dead, there’s no one to stop him from becoming as powerful as he knows he deserves.

So if he hasn’t been smiling all too much the past few weeks, stress from organizing and managing and planning getting to him, well, the shark-like grin he gives you now makes up for all that, he thinks. You must think so too, because you’re nestling yourself even further against his chest, and you’re grinning right back.

“You bet your bottom dollar I do.” You have a playful twinkle in your eye, and your breath puffs out in gentle plumes against the chill of the Spring night, and Kylo thinks that you’re the most radiant thing that he’s ever seen.

Lifting a hand, he traces the contour of your cheek. Just the barest hint of a touch, his scarred and burned fingertips gliding against the curve of your jaw, his thumb swiping across your lower lip softly, carefully, Kylo swallows hard.

“I don’t like it, when you leave me like that, darling.” He murmurs, and you duck your head ever so gently, pushing your cheek further against your boyfriend’s palm.

“I know, but I’m back now.” You sigh a little, an apologetic smile gracing your lips.

You had gone on a girl’s trip for the weekend, somewhere tropical and sunny where your skin could soak up the seaside air. He can smell it on you, can smell the salt and the sunscreen as it lingers from earlier that morning. A girl’s trip meant no boys allowed, much to Kylo’s immense displeasure. He had been a nervous fucking wreck from the moment he watched your plane take off from the tarmac.

But you’re right, you are back now, and Kylo doesn’t want to waste anymore time, so he tilts your chin up with a crook of his finger, and his eyes slip closed as your mouths meet. Humming sweetly in the back of your throat, your arms slide from his waist up up up to around his neck, and Kylo gets the hint.

He hoists you up so that your pretty ankles are crossed behind you, feet clean off the floor as he gives you a small twirl, smiling against your lips. You laugh and the sound is more beautiful than all the symphonies man could have ever written, and Kylo feels that everything is finally right with the world.

Your tongue slips between his lips and he opens his mouth gladly for it, for you. Oh how he missed the taste of you on his tongue! Kylo’s hands practically shake as he indulges in the way you sigh and bite at him. He could cry at the reunion, when your hands tangle in his hair, keeping your bodies flush together, close as close can be.

Without breaking the kiss, he hoists you up once again, this time in a bridal carry in the way that he envisions himself doing one night sooner rather than later, and he walks you up the stoop steps and into the parlor of the brownstone that you call home. It’s got you giggling, tucking your face under his chin, finger idly tracing his still-healing scar.

“Did you really miss me?” He asks, when he finally puts you down.

The Knights have filed out, knowing when to leave before things get a little more hot and heavy than they would care to bear witness to, and Dopheld has gone back to his car and driven away. It’s just the two of you in the brownstone now, and you still have that twinkle in your eye.

“Why don’t you meet me upstairs, and I’ll show you just how much.” You whisper, walking two fingers up his chest, prompting Kylo to grab you by the hand and bring you up himself, leaving nothing but pieces of clothing and laughter in your wake.

------------------------------

Tagging some Kylo lovin' pals! @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @rennasiance-mama @steeevienicks @mousemakingjam @the-unmanaged-mischief @materialisthicc @slut-for-harri @littleevilme13 @erys-targaryen @leillaa @lovinghufflepuffgirl @hswritingrecs @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @schopenhauerdeathsquad @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @cowgirl1234 @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen

[ramp-it-up]

Fine

Pairing: Rafel Casal x Reader

Word count: 2Kish.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, MINORS DNI, CURATE YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE! Dark Dom!Rafa, Daveed dancing, drinking, cursing, angst, possessiveness, ex sex, face slapping, bathroom sex, fingering, oral (f receiving) clit slapping, orgasm denial, bdsm, binding, lashing, gagging oral (m receiving).

Summary: You didn’t need Rafa anymore. You were just fine without him.

A/N: This is a little dark. I think I’ve used this pic of Rafa before, but it’s perfect for this fic. And btw, I’m on my Rafael Santiago Casal Bullshit. Watch out.

-----------

It had been 84 days and you were perfectly fine.

Out with your girls, you were wearing your freakum dress, getting plenty of attention and drinks.

You were fine.

So fine, that you were debating on which fine man to go home with. You surveyed the room for your pick. They’d all bought you a drink. You were polite, drank with them and told them you’d get back with them. You were trying to decide.

The chocolate one with the light eyes and the razor sharp fade?

The light skin with the gap teeth and hella swag?

The beefy blonde with the buzz cut?

You downed your fifth drink and moved towards those pretty gap teeth and swag.

Someone tall stepped in front of your 5” 6” frame in heels. You zigged and they zagged, blocking you from your goal.

You sighed and looked up at them, ready to politely ask that they move or cuss them out. It just depended on how their face made you feel.

You looked up to see Daveed and you squealed.

“DIGGS! HOLY FUCK IS THAT YOUUUU????”

He smiled and laughed at you.

“The one and only. What’s crackin’ girl?” He leaned back and surveyed your form in the dress.

“Damn! You’re still fine as hell!” He was shaking his head.

You threw yourself at him, your short body almost knocking his big lanky ass over with your over zealous buzzness. He laughed and hugged you more, leading you away from the bar.

“Where’s my girl?” You looked around for Daveed’s other half.

“She’s across country at a gig. I miss my Lady.” Daveed’s pout was adorable.

“Awwww, po baby. I’m gonna have to tell her to give you some electronic lovin.’” You started to pull out your phone.

“Oh, don’t bother. She already knows what’s up. Come dance with me.”

Daveed had turned into Mr. Smiley, and as usual, you couldn’t resist him. But you loved to tease.

“Boy, you know you can’t dance.”

“Fuck you mean????” Daveed started doing a very ugly robot.

“Fine! Let’s dance, ugh!”

You groaned and grabbed his hand to pull him out on the floor before he could embarrass himself, and you, any further.

Y’all had a ball, laughing and trying to talk to each other over the loud music, Daveed white girl dancing and you trying to teach him some moves.

After about four songs, the music turned slow and you two stood there awkwardly.

“Well, I guess I’ll go….”

You looked around to see if High Yella was still around.

Daveed’s eyes were above your head and the hair on the back of your neck stood up.

“May I have this dance?”

FUCK fuck fuck fuck fuck.

You turned around, and came face to face with Rafael Casal. Damn he was so fine.

You cocked your hip and crossed your arms, and glared up at him, mad because you felt like this was a trap.

Rafa stared at your pushed up breasts in the dress and your nipples pebbled as he licked his lips wolfishly.

You avoided the memories of Rafael’s excellent nipple play looked back at Daveed for rescue to see that Rafa’s wingman had suddenly disappeared.

You turned your head back to Rafa, the swivel in your neck obvious.

“I should have known that you would be lurking around here somewhere.”

You rolled your eyes, super annoyed and full of attitude.

And that’s why Rafa’s dick was on hard. He needed to give you some act right.

He’d watched you promise your body to every dude in the place with that fucking dress and lead them on. He needed to remind you whose it was.

Fuck that he’d given you the ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’ months ago.

You belonged to him.

“I don’t lurk, Sweet Pea, I flow. And yeah, you know Diggs is the Yin to my Yang, and vice versa.”

Rafa was speaking low enough that you had to lean in, and you caught his scent. Fuck if you weren’t thrown back 83 days to the last time you’d let him take you apart and literally screw you back together.

That dick was an artistic masterpiece, just like everything about Rafael Casal.

But you were fine.

“You have some nerve, calling me Sweet Pea. Fuck you, Santiago.”

You were heated, and maybe it’s because you wanted some act right. You cursed your pussy’s muscle memory and the five drinks you had that were making you weak for him. Because other than that, you’d be fine.

“Maybe later.” He smirked at you, so damn cocky.

“So, are you gonna stand in the middle of the dance floor and cuss me out, or are you gonna move to the music with me?”

Rafa held out his arms and you looked around, pretending that you didn’t want to be encircled by them again. But you couldn’t be rude, right?

You stepped to him and he put his hands around your waist and crossed them behind you, pulling you flush to him. You stared at his lips as you felt him look down at you.

You didn’t dare look into his eyes, but this view was making you remember what that mouth do.

Shit.

Rafa cleared his throat.

“So, how have you been?”

You looked over his shoulder to the speakers on the stage.

“These past three months have been fine, just fine, Rafael. My life is so zen now. I’m happy.”

“Not quite three months, Sweet Pea. 83 days and 14 hours. And I’ve missed you like crazy.”

You looked up into his eyes when he said that. Oh, hell.

“Oh. Did you now?” You were hot.

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you broke up with me the morning after you fucked me goodbye, you self centered narcissist asshole.”

You tried to leave his embrace, but Rafa slid his hands around to hold you fast, thumbs digging into your hip bones, hurting you. At the same time, his grip caused you to feel his desire pressed against your stomach.

You gasped and slapped his face. Hard.

You two stared at each other on the dance floor for a full ten seconds which seemed like forever.

The next thing you knew, you were being pushed up against the stall in the bathroom, the act of Rafa pulling you in there a total blur.

It always started like this, rough, fast, and hot.

Rafa’s hands were under the hem of your dress, dragging it up so that he could grab your panties and pull them down.

“You seem to have forgotten lesson number one. Whose pussy is this, Sweet Pea?”

You refused to answer and closed your eyes, memories of him seducing you just by teaching your fucking Poetry 201 course years ago flooding your brain.

He shook his head and knelt on the filthy floor as he removed and pocketed your thong.

“You prolonging your submission just prolongs the punishment, Sweet Pea. Is that what you need tonight?”

He licked a stripe up your leg and slung it on his shoulder, rutting into your pussy with his mouth.

Your protest at him stealing your clothing died on your lips and was replaced by a moan as Rafael’s skillful tongue started to swirl around your clit, while his fingers came up to roughly finger fuck your cunt.

“Damn, Rafa.”

You moaned and pulled his hair as his other hand came up to try and still your squirming on his face.

“Shut up and stay still, damnit.”

He spoke to you through your pussy, and your eyes rolled back in your head as the vibrations drove you crazy.

You tugged harder on his hair, which made him graze your clit with his teeth. Then, he laved it with his tongue and leaned back to look at it adoringly and then up at you.

You stared down at him, and watched his face glisten with your arousal. Then you caught his look. He sighed at your insolence.

“Fine. You know the drill. This is going to be payback.”

Before you could move, Rafa reached up and lovingly swirled three fingers around and around your clit, then slapped it three times.

You screamed, thankful that the club music was back to a loud cacophony.

He looked at you again, smiling that fucking smile.

“You wanna cum all over my face, Sweet Pea? Want me to make you unravel right here?”

You refused to answer him, but you both knew what was up. Rafa just chuckled at you, and leaned back in to devastate you with his mouth.

He flattened his tongue and took wide, languid strokes against your clitoris, keeping eye contact with you.

You were on fire, all nerves alive and reacting to what he was doing. He inserted two fingers inside you and curled them so precisely to that spot that always made you wonder if he was present at the engineering of your pussy.

You quivered, eyes squeezed shut and tears eaking out, so close to doing what he’d asked you about and bracing for it. Your muscles were taught, your feet were on tiptoe, even further than your 5 inch heels required, and you were holding your breath.

As soon as you felt you were about to gush into his mouth, suddenly, his warm tongue was replaced with cool air, and his fingers withdrew from your cunt.

“Arrghhhh! Cash! Fucking hell????”

He stood up, licking his fingers as he turned away from you, washed his hands and face, and used the water on them for his hair.

You were quivering with rage and desire. As you fixed your mouth to cuss him out, he spoke, calmly.

“You better not fucking move until I’m done.”

Rafa’s ice blue/green eyes in the mirror, and the tone, made you stand stock still, your dress still around your waist. Your pussy throbbed with excitement.

He finished the swoop, then turned back around to you, straightened your panties and pulled your dress down.

Then, he grabbed your face, pushing you against the stall again. His voice was menacing and cold.

“That’s just the beginning of your punishment for slapping me out there.”

You were dripping on the floor now. You wanted to hear what was next, despite yourself. No one could destroy and put you back together as eloquently as Rafael could.

Fuck, how you’d missed it. You were so wound up.

“If you want me to finish it, you know what to do. If you’re done…”

His eyes took in your face. So fucking beautiful.

“Well, goodbye Sweet Pea.”

He leaned in, and gave you a kiss, releasing your face and his hold on you. You moaned a little and put your arms around his neck, reveling in the tenderness while wanting the pain.

You whimpered as he pulled away, backed toward the door and walked out.

You went to the sink and put a cold paper towel on your neck, fixing your makeup and hair and getting your mind right.

You looked in the mirror. You were fine. You didn’t need what Rafael Casal had to offer.

You made a decision, straightened up and walked out of the bathroom.

----

An hour and a half later, you were in Rafael’s bedroom, naked on your knees, hands tied around your back, the lashes on your ass throbbing, gagging around his cock and praying that he’d let you breathe before you passed out.

You didn’t need Rafa.

But you wanted him.

And that was more than fine.

———

I hope it was fine for you! 😜

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