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causenessus · 3 months

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Biggest Sweethearts. | Haikyuu

inc. atsumu, oikawa + bokuto as an extra <3

written in 2nd pov

song recc: brooklynn baby by lana del ray

word count: 1244 words

summary: defending atsumu and oikawa against playboy allegations or in other words, the kind of partner each boy needs <3

ik i already lowkey went off and defended atsumu in that one post while i went crazy in windowless rooms for 12 hours that one day but i wanted to write the full thing <3 i have not posted written content in so long!! happy 900 followers <3 this has all been written in one night while my brain is giving out so i apologize

miya atsumu

atusmu needs someone who knows what he’s doing

he definitely wants a part in leading a relationship but he wants someone who he can fall back on and isn't expecting him to be like a full-time hotshot

he needs someone who loves him unconditionally, seeing past all the fronts he puts up and loves him past the douche he can sometimes act as/be

of course it’s fine if you tease him like his friends, he’d expecting nothing less, but falling for you means you’re someone he feels safe with

someone he feels comfortable enough to be soft around, someone he can come to after a long day and let his shoulders drop as he falls on top of you while you’re laying on the couch

he doesn’t feel like he has to maintain a facade of a man whose strong and acts like nothing ever phases him around you

like yes, he’s strong and makes a show of it for you all the time, but everyone needs a rest day <3

when you guys are at home together he’s actually pretty quiet

it’s all loving gestures and soft voices

hands wrapping around your waist while you’re in the kitchen and a murmured “i missed you” while he peppers kisses down your neck

he can be so loud around his friends and it’s part of an autopilot switch that just flips on being around them, and being loud is nothing bad

but if he needs your help with something while you’re both home, he’s never yelling for you

he’ll peek his head in, finding you laying on your shared bed

“babe?”

when you look up, he’s picking at the doorframe, quietly waiting a response

“if you’re not busy can you help me with something? it’s okay if you don’t want to”

you’re already getting up from the bed, softly pulling his hand off the doorway to hold it between both of yours, “of course i’ll help you, ‘tsumu, what do you need?”

biggest baby ever actually

he could never be with someone short term or do casual relationships and he really hates hookups

everything already feels so superficial to him besides volleyball, and he knows he’s eye candy but he wants to be more than that

he wants to be more than the shallow flirt his fans seem to obsess over

(of course he’s a big flirt, but his comments are reserved for you and you only <3)

falling for you means he’s found that in you; he’s found someone who sees him for who he really is and still loves him

oikawa tooru

tooru knows what commitment is

he knows that fruition will only come from time

if he wants something meaningful, he has to put effort into it. he isn't going to get that from messing around with a girl or nothing else

of course he accepted the gifts from his fan club and ate up their attention, but once he met you, it no longer meant anything to him

he wanted you to be wholly is, and him to be wholly yours

he would never do anything to make you think that he wants anyone else but you

he’s committed 100% to you which also means you also receive 100% of his flirting because he enjoys the reactions it gets out of you

and even when he teases you, his words are light and harmless; you can hear how much he loves you behind it all

honestly probably the best communicator ever because he wants to make sure you know how much he loves you

will text you about how he’s been asked to do a photoshoot with a model and then will write you an essay on how he’s not doing it because he’s interested in anyone else other than you and in fact, he’ll only be thinking of you during the shoot

his fan club made it a little hard for him to really accept or even know who he was, he wasn’t sure anyone would value him for anything other than his volleyball skills and looks

but you’ve stayed with him, seeming to find the positives in everything he’s done. even through the games he’s lost, and when he’s acting pessimistic and is isolating himself, you’ve stayed with him

you’ve talked him through the losses. when he’s curled up and turned away from you, mind drowning in thoughts of failure, your voice seems to break through everything

you take small steps towards him, telling him that you’re coming closer, and that if he wants you to leave at any moment then to tell you

but he never tells you to leave

he’ll lean into your touch, and he feels how much it quiets his head

as soon as he’s better he’s always apologetic for how he acted and he tells you how thankful he is for you while rubbing small circles on your skin

you always hush him with a kiss

“tooru, i’m not gonna get mad at you or leave you just because you lost a game and then understandably get upset. you’re always working so hard”

you silence his biggest fear

he needs someone who really sees him

you’ve never once failed to notice an accomplishment or how hard he’s working at something and that’s what he needs, rather than someone whose only with him for what he can give them or for something physical like his appearance/manners <3

extra!! bokuto koutarou

NOT a playboy but i just wanted to sort of hc the kind of person he needs in his life

amongst everyone who always seems to be “growing up” in the world, he needs someone who will still see the beauty and the color in the world

not here for anything that those people who are always posting about “look how successful i am at the age of 18” “here’s how to make an extra 10k a year” “you should be doing this, you shouldn’t be doing this…”

just wants to be happy with u <3

he needs someone who will still get excited with him over getting ice cream, looking at christmas lights, watching new episodes, and more <3

he knows money or whatever concerns of life people have will be solved and follow after happiness so he’s also definitely your biggest cheerleader

always advocatess for you to find things to do that you enjoy. hushes any concerns you have about how much it'll pay

"i've got it, baby. you do whatever you want. whatever makes you happy. and if volleyball somehow doesn't make enough i'll find a way :) maybe akaashi will let me help him with his editing"

will check in and make sure you’re always doing good

will always always always come over immediately to be with you if you’re not

he'll brings over food or distractions to give you company, never pressuring you to feel better immediately

it’s okay to stay and work through any feelings you’re having <3 there’s no rush, but he does want you to be feeling good so he’ll stay with you until you’re doing better and even after <3

life isn’t simple, he knows that, but there’s also no reason to overcomplicate it in his mind so he’ll never fail to get excited over new movies and getting to go out with you <3

paying bills and tax days are fun

(also he's definitely the kind to be like "we should just get married rn so we get those discounts")

you’re both fighting for your lives, the table is a mess, and while some couple next door is argued over taxes, you both have your heads in your hands

then you’re both looking up at each other

“i didn’t even know we got charged for having a phone” he whispers, absolutely horrified

“me neither,” you reply, just as confused

“do you wanna go watch wall e?”

“yes” you’re both already sliding out of your chairs, leaving the bills for another day

#atsumu x reader #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya #atsumu miya x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #tooru oikawa #tooru oikawa x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou #bokuto koutarou x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu x reader headcannons #haikyuu headcannons

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notmyneighbor · 5 months

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A New Neighbor - Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader, Francis Mosses x Nacha Mikaelys

Chapter 1

Word Count - 6.5k

Rating - Explicit

Content Warnings - cheating, pervert Francis Mosses, reader is an 18 yo highschool student and the new babysitter, fondling, masturbation

Also available on AO3

taglist - @kaislashes @unicorngirly1 @charli33-b33 @natiii727227

Things aren’t going well with Francis Mosses’ girlfriend Nacha Mikaelys.

The milkman is trying to make things work; he truly sees it that way. Their daughter Anastacha certainly wasn’t planned, but he’s not the type to shirk his duties. An unwed mother carries a certain stigma and it’s not really fair when he’s partly responsible for the situation they’re in. So they’d moved in together. Claimed they were engaged to be married, though it was clear neither of them had any intentions of tying the knot. The resentment on both sides is clear. This was never supposed to be a long term, committed relationship. They weren’t particularly compatible. Yet here they are. Friends at the best of times, but those times were coming fewer and farther between. More like roommates that tolerated each other now. Barely tolerated. Conversations strained. Tempers short. He feels like he was suffocating, trapped. He knows she feels the same way.

Nacha wants to resume her career as a chef now that Anastacha is in elementary school, and that means a babysitter will be required to make up the gap between Francis and his girlfriend’s upcoming shifts. He’s not so much a product of his time that he doesn’t believe in women working outside the home; he actually thinks it will be good for her to pursue something she enjoys. So he readily agrees to the idea, wondering whom they’re going to hire.

These are difficult times.

Trust is hard to come by, when you don’t know whether the face you’re staring at is really your neighbor or not. The doppelgänger situation wasn’t just something you heard about on the news in some distant city anymore. It was here. It was real. Just last week someone downstairs had been killed, the previous doorman guarding the entrance a little too lax in his duties.

The demand to inhabit a DDD secured residence was high no matter how derelict in their duties the individual screening at the door was, and Francis had heard through the rumor mill of the crowded building that a father and his daughter were already moving in. He was a college professor. She was an older teenager, eighteen, finishing up highschool. She might be a good option to watch Ana. He’d have to meet her and see. He’s sure Nacha will want to as well.

Today is the day the new residents are moving in, he thinks. Or was it Wednesday they were slated to take up residence? Wait, was today already Wednesday?

Francis rubs the bridge of his nose and massages his tired eyes. He’s almost done his delivery route. Not even his busiest day, the schedule almost half of what it will be tomorrow, and he already can’t wait for it to be over. He’ll stop by to introduce himself on the way home, get a feel for things. At the very least it was the proper thing to do, welcoming someone to the neighborhood. If things didn’t work out, well, they’d just have to keep looking for a babysitter.

***

Francis always takes the elevator when he returns from his shift.

The thought of climbing up three flights of stairs just doesn’t appeal to him most days. Not after so many deliveries. He supposes he should be glad so many people still lacked proper refrigeration and relied on him for fresh dairy products. Job security, they called it. He used to have to solicit customers, years ago. It was an expected part of the job. The invasion had changed all of that, though. Demand more than enough without seeking additional business. It wasn’t even about convenience anymore. People were becoming more and more afraid of leaving their homes.

A heck of a lot riskier than it used to be, visiting so many residences. You never knew who—what—was really on the other side of the door nowadays. Before, he used to complain about having to collect payment from customers that were behind. Now that task seemed paltry in comparison to the daring just delivering goods involved. Even the increased pay doesn’t quite cancel out the threat of the doppelgängers lurking around every corner.

He actually forgets to present his entry request that afternoon after fumbling his ID card out of his wallet, a battered leather billfold that’s seen better days but he can’t be bothered wasting money to replace it. Besides, it takes time to break a new one in. This one is creased and comfortable. It had lasted him this long, it would service him a little longer.

The new doorman frowns suspiciously and he hurriedly reaches for his clipboard, sliding the request free from its position tucked at the very back of his address list. He tries a smile that is not returned, the DDD’s recently hired guard perusing the offered document before squinting at something just to the left of the window. He knows he’s on the day’s expected entry list, so he’s not worried about that. But he did already arouse suspicion, neglecting to present his excuse for his departure from the apartment building. He hears the receiver of the black rotary phone lifting and his heart sinks. The doorman really isn’t buying that he was just a milkman returning home from work. A very human, normal person.

Francis tucks his clipboard back under his arm, his free hand tapping nervously against his work pants. He can hear the dial tone, the lack of a response. Of course no one was home. Still a relief, though. If the doorman had inadvertently already let a doppel in, a stranger wearing his face now taking up his residence, lying in wait, while he himself was condemned to execution by the DDD disposal team…he shudders to think of that scenario.

Without a word his identification card is slid back to him, the request filed away. It seemed silly to have to keep making them out on a daily basis, but that was the procedure. He hears the door buzzer signaling he’s free to enter the building and he sighs in relief again, nodding gratefully before ducking through.

The elevator doors slide open and the tired delivery driver steps inside the carriage and presses the button for the third floor out of habit, leaning slightly against the rear wall of the car. He’s really exhausted today, and the week is only halfway done. Maybe he should have a few customers taken off his route.

Wait. Had he pressed the third floor button? He was supposed to be going to the second, to meet the new neighbors. With a mournful sigh he thumbs the correct button and the doors close, shielding his view of the familiar stretch of navy blue doors on the floor he resides on. Every floor was similarly color coded: pistachio green for first, tangerine orange for third. He doesn’t think there’s any real significance to the chosen palette. Every apartment was furnished identically as well, everything provided with utilitarian pieces. In some respects, he thinks it makes things a lot easier. Nacha didn’t agree. She insists on adding decor and personal touches to make it feel unique, more like their own. He lets her have free reign over that department; he hardly has any decorating expertise. If it was entirely up to him, his sole decision would be to leave it just as it was when he’d moved in. Simple was best.

The elevator doors part on the correct floor this time, and he immediately sees a pile of boxes and luggage outside a door just across from the elevator. So the rumor mill had been correct. Today was the day.

Moving boxes is the last thing the tired delivery driver feels like doing just then, but it’s as good a way as any to break the ice. He raps his knuckles on the edge of the moulding, announcing his arrival. The door opens and he’s greeted by a pleasant looking middle aged man who looks very confused to be greeted by an empty handed milkman.

“I didn’t order anything…”

“Oh! No, I’m sorry. I’m not here for a delivery. I just got home from work and wanted to introduce myself. My name is Francis Mosses. I live upstairs with my girlfriend and daughter.” He offers a hand and the man shakes it. He has a strong, confident grip and an easy smile.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Need a hand with this?” He gestures towards the stack beside him.

“That’s very kind of you, but you certainly aren’t obligated to.”

“Not a problem. Moving is a big job. Is your daughter here?” He asks curiously, lifting one of the suitcases and wincing a little at the unexpected weight.

“No, she’s in school. She’s a very dedicated student. It’s fortunate we’re still close enough to where we lived before so she didn’t have to transfer to another so late in the school year. She’ll be home soon. That’s her luggage you've got there,” he adds, looking sympathetic.

“Feels like she packed everything and the kitchen sink,” Francis jokes, and the man cracks another smile. He likes him already. Hopefully the daughter would prove just as affable.

“Just set that in the living room for now. I apologize for the mess,” he says over his shoulder. “My daughter is the one for the knack with organizing things. Must have gotten it from her mother, God rest her soul. Lost her during childbirth. It’s always just been the two of us. I could never quite bring myself to move on,” he adds softly.

The third floor resident offers a sympathetic sound, waving away the man’s concerns before he heaves the heavy suitcase onto the couch. If he knows anything about women, he imagines it’s jam packed with clothing. Nacha’s outfits took up more than half of the closet in the bedroom. It’s a good thing he didn’t have a large wardrobe himself.

Francis returns to the hallway and he and the new neighbor steadily begin demolishing the pile, chatting amicably. He doesn’t envy the man the task of unpacking all of this. He isn’t even sure they’ll be room for this much stuff. The apartments were moderately sized.

“Ah, here she is! This is our neighbor from upstairs, Mr. Francis Mosses.” The introduction accompanies your entrance through the front door, the backpack hooked over one shoulder settled beside the luggage on the couch before turning your attention to the visitor.

You shake the stranger’s hand and survey the state of the interior of the new living space, looking a bit overwhelmed. “Dad, I told you to wait. I was going to help,” you say, and he can hear the good natured, long suffering patience you must have to exhibit living with the widow in your tone.

“I know, I just wanted to get a head start.”

“Just wait before you touch anything else, okay?” It sounds like the roles are reversed, with you being the mature adult and your father looking the part of the bashful child. You smile apologetically at the milkman, making for the boxes lining the kitchen counter first. “I’m sorry we don’t have anything to offer you, we still need to pick up groceries. Just seemed foolish to have even more things to carry. Worried about food spoiling, you know…” Your voice trails off as you tuck a stray strand of hair behind one ear. Well mannered. Pretty. You had a nice smile. Nice everything if Francis was being honest, but he was very firmly trying to deny his initial assessment of your appearance as you’d walked through the door wearing a school uniform, still trying to conceal how much he was admiring the shape of your figure in a plaid skirt that was maybe a touch too short, the way the button front white blouse and navy cardigan hugged your curves so neatly.

Or maybe it wasn’t too short at all. Maybe it was just the right length, he thinks, watching you bend over to pick something up your father had dropped, stubbornly ignoring your advice and diving into the contents of one of the boxes.

Jesus, Francis. Perverted much?

It had been awhile since he’d last been intimate with Nacha. A long time. So far back he can’t even remember. That part of their relationship had just fizzled after the baby, becoming a rare occurrence if they both just happened to be in the mood. More a matter of convenience and availability, certainly nothing romantic or passionate. And now here he was, lusting after a girl he didn’t even know who was barely into adulthood. Someone he’d intended on asking to watch his own child.

“I, um, don’t want to take up too much of your time. I just wanted to say hi. I’ll leave you to it.”

“Thanks for stopping by. And the assistance. Extend our greetings to your girlfriend and daughter.”

“I’ll do that.”

Did you look a little displeased when your father mentioned these two females you lived with? Or had he only imagined that scowl that was there and gone fast as a passing summer rainstorm?

“See you around,” you call after him, and the milkman cannot get on the elevator fast enough, hurriedly pressing the button to return him to the third floor.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

***

Nacha visits the new neighbors before the week ends, inviting them to dinner.

Francis hasn’t said much about his first impressions. His girlfriend certainly seemed to approve. She never invited people over.

Maybe it would be okay. Maybe it had just been a fluke. Just raging hormones and unsatisfied needs making him react that way.

It had been the guiltiest jerk off he’d ever had in his life after meeting you for the first time.

The only saving grace was he was home alone when he’d done it. Thankfully Nacha had been out visiting her parents with Anastacha at the time. A rare moment of peace and quiet that had instantly filled with thoughts of you. Very inappropriate thoughts.

He’d still locked himself in the bathroom, just to be on the safe side. She wouldn’t be home for a couple of hours according to the note, but still, better to be safe than sorry.

Stupid, waiting to clean the pipes this long. No wonder….fuck.

When you had bent over to retrieve whatever kitchen utensil your father had clumsily dropped…That image alone would have been enough, but his mind is already shoving that innocent movement into something much more depraved, with you bent over in front of him instead. His cock had already been flushed and leaking when he’d dragged it free of its enclosure, stroking the sensitive organ and hissing in pleasure. It was so hot. He was on fire. Those sexy lips of yours. Maybe he wants you on your knees in front of him instead, wrapping that mouth over his prick. Choking you on it. It wasn’t bragging, simply stating a fact. He knows he’s larger than average, thicker and longer than many. Girls had always been surprised and appreciative. He’d love to see the look on your face the first time he exposed himself to you. He’d wondered if you had a boyfriend. How far you’ve gone. Still a virgin, maybe? Waiting for marriage like a good girl?

Fuck. He’d been throbbing. There was no way he’d been able to prolong the session. He’d fucked his hand wishing it was yours, any part of you, envisioning bathing you in a load that jets out in reality moments later, thick creamy wads spurting onto the bathroom sink. His free hand grips the counter in a white knuckled grasp and he looks at his appearance in the mirror while his hips still spasm even after he’s removed his hand from his pulsing cock. Flushed. Perspiring. The almost bruised looking smudges beneath each lower eyelid now underlining blown pupils. He should have been ashamed.

It had only made him want you more.

***

“How are you enjoying the apartment so far?”

Nacha had cooked enough food for an army, crowding the table with dish after dish. For all her flaws, Francis couldn’t deny she had true culinary talent. Baking was her passion; that’s how they had met, in fact. Delivering dairy products to the shop she’d worked at. A little flirting on both sides. And then, well…

“Still getting settled, but it’s been good so far. A much safer neighborhood than where we lived previously,” the college professor remarks, responding to the hostess’ query.

“The new doorman seems to be very strict. I feel a lot safer,” she agrees, cutting into the casserole on her plate and mulling over the bite. It was a habit for her. She always took her time eating, judging what ingredients she’d used, deciding what worked and what could be improved upon.

“Can I have some more juice, Mommy?”

“When you’ve finished what you have, yes.”

Ana quickly polishes off the contents of her glass. She’s been staring at their female visitor all throughout dinner, clearly fascinated by the older girl.

“I’ve got it,” you say, offering to refill the child’s glass. She smiles and Ana breaks into a grin that’s in that awkward transitioning stage between baby and adult teeth, a few gaps noted here and there. You were already getting along so well.

Francis had been hoping you wouldn’t. It would make things so much easier. Removing temptation. No need to ever go to the second floor again. Perhaps there would be the occasional paths crossed on the elevator, but that would be it.

He has barely spoken the entire time. He’s very pointedly not looking at you in the pretty floral button front dress you’re wearing, your hair freshly styled, skin natural and clear of makeup, just the way he likes. Nacha always wore such dark lipstick and heavy mascara, attempting to cover her freckles with powder and concealer. He wishes she wouldn’t. He’s mentioned it before, as politely as he can. But she doesn’t agree with his preference. She’s wearing it right now. The modest dress is so old it’s nearly out of style. She’s definitely not trying to impress anyone.

“This is delicious, Nacha,” the male guest remarks after she’d insisted they be on a first name basis.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it. It’s a new recipe. I might still tweak a few things in the future…” Her voice trails off thoughtfully, then she turns her attention to the young woman seated across from her. “So do you have any activities after school? Senior year is so exciting.”

“I’m on the year book committee and I take piano lessons.”

“I wish I could play a musical instrument. Just never seemed to get the hang of my mother’s piano,” Nacha murmurs wistfully. She pauses, then nudges Francis under the table. This was his cue to inquire if she’d be interesting in babysitting.

He clears his throat loudly, suddenly parched and grabbing for a drink, his hasty fingers nearly knocking the glass over. “We were wondering, if you have time, of course. Understandable if you don’t.” Another nudge, this one firm enough to leave a bruise. “If you wouldn’t be interested in babysitting for us. Nacha is going to be going back to work and there’s a slight discrepancy with our schedules…” Suddenly the words that had been so difficult to utter come spilling out like a guilty man confessing his crimes to the authorities. And oh, was he guilty. His eyes finally meet yours directly, shifting from the point he’d fixed on somewhere near your face, the striped wallpaper on the wall behind you substituted for your features. He feels his body responding immediately, a slight tightening in his trousers that makes him shyly glance away again. Damn it. Masturbating the other day hadn’t taken the edge off at all. What was it about you that made you so irresistible?

“I’m interested,” you reply, and he feels his gaze dragged forcefully back to you. No, he shouldn’t have looked. But he can’t help it. He really can’t. Magnet and iron filings. Moth and flame. The attraction is too strong.

He lets his girlfriend iron out the details like the times and days that work for everyone involved after your father readily agrees to the proposal, stating you’ve always been good with your niece who’s a similar age. A real natural at childcare. Dessert follows after you graciously help Nacha clear the table, a homemade chocolate cake and coffee for the adults, milk for Ana and you, per your request.

The milkman feels your eyes on him again. You’re lifting the glass to your lips, that creamy white substance leaving behind a stain on your upper lip that you quickly lick away, your tongue darting out and stroking over the pink arches. Francis nearly chokes on his bite of cake. It has to be deliberate, right? Or was it really completely innocent, and it was his own sick, twisted brain making it seem like the teenager was flirting with him?

It’s a relief when it’s his daughter’s bedtime and Nacha decides to show you her routine, in case you’ll be there late one night if they ever decided to go out or were otherwise occupied. A little more bonding time for you and his daughter. Your father’s already drawn him into a conversation that distracts him, lets him calm down, the bulge in his pants easing. There’s a nervous moment when you’re parting at the door, the scent of you and your close proximity suddenly threatening to reveal his perversion again, but then you’re gone and it’s just he and his girlfriend once more.

He’s surprised when she begins stroking his shoulder after retiring for the evening, a signal that hadn’t been used in ages. Even more surprising when he responds to it. You don’t resemble Nacha in any way, but maybe that’s better. In the dark, it’s easier to pretend the warm body he presses beneath his is actually yours. The chef had gained weight during the pregnancy that had mostly been shed again, some residual softness still clinging to the middle even after all this time. An idea warps this into your own belly stretched for him. Francis keeps his face tucked into the side of his girlfriend’s neck, huffing softly. You’d be tighter than this. Wetter. He knows it. Those eyes. Those lips. He’s moaning, too loud, he knows.

“Francis,” Nacha cautions. “You’ll wake Ana.”

Your lip stained in white at the dinner table. Your tongue. He wants to lick it off you. Lick every inch of you. Dump an entire bottle of chilled milk over your warm body and lap away. Fuck. Too good. The imagery is too vivid. He pulls out just before he climaxes, spilling semen over Nacha’s torso and abdomen, then flops down beside her. He has no idea if she’s still taking birth control. He’s hardly going to risk getting the mother of his child pregnant again.

There’s a sigh from the other woman. She hasn’t orgasmed. She hates cleaning cum off of her body. Francis bets you’d enjoy it. Rub it in. Encourage him to spread even more on you. He wants to make you cum. He wants you.

The mattress creaks as his partner leaves the bed to go wash up in the bathroom. His elevated pulse and respirations are gradually slowing, returning to normal. He shifts his pajama pants back into place, dragging them back over his hips.

It takes Nacha a long time to come back to bed. Maybe she’d finished herself off in the bathroom. Did you ever touch yourself?

It’s the final lewd thought he ponders before he drifts off to sleep.

***

A week passes. Nacha’s returned to work, this time at a restaurant. Not as many opportunities for creating the baked goods that had been her previous passion, but still a step in the right direction before a better opportunity presents itself.

Francis arrives home a little past four that afternoon, finding you on the floor in the living room with Anastacha. You were helping her color a picture of a rainbow, your shading much neater while the elementary student’s scribbles tended to veer outside the lines. You're both lying on your stomachs, your knees bent, ankles crossed in the air, swaying up and down a bit. A position he’d seen Ana adopt countless times. You, though…

“Daddy!” His daughter scrambles to her feet, running over to give him an enthusiastic hug.

Your eyes lift to meet his as he tousles her hair playfully. “Hi, Mr. Mosses. How was work?”

“Fine. It’s Francis,” he reminds you, although he’s not certain it’s such a good idea to encourage that informal address.

“When is mommy coming home?” The first grader tips her head back, regarding her father.

“Late. Remember I told you? You’ll be in bed before she gets home. It’s just you and me, kiddo.”

“Will she come kiss me goodnight?”

“Yes, baby.”

“Can she stay? She’s helping me color.” She points to you and the crayon scrawled picture.

“I see that. It’s very nice. But she can’t stay. She has homework to do, I’m sure. She’ll be back tomorrow.”

The pout on the young child’s face softens. She’s got his eyes, there’s no denying it, but every other feature inherited is her mother’s. The button nose ceases scrunching up and she shrugs her thin shoulders in acceptance.

“Can I have a snack?”

“Not now. It’s almost dinner time,” he says gently.

Unlike Nacha, Francis hated cooking. Thankfully she’d prepared for this, leaving leftovers in the fridge to reheat for supper tonight.

The milkman watches you gather the crayons back into the box, handing the picture to Ana after you push yourself to your feet. “We’ll finish this tomorrow, okay?”

His daughter nods. You slide back into your cardigan, blocking the view he’d just had of your brassiere very visible beneath the thin material of your school blouse. Was that lace he had caught a glimpse of?

“Would you mind walking me downstairs? I’m still a little nervous being on my own.”

It seems like the most innocent of excuses, but Francis is more convinced than ever it’s anything but. He hesitates, eyeing his daughter. The entire point of hiring a sitter was so she wouldn’t be left alone. Now he was going to be doing that very thing.

“Isn’t your dad home?”

“No. He’s teaching a night course.”

The milkman’s heart sinks. Alone. You were going home to an empty apartment. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Ana, daddy’s going to walk your babysitter home, okay? I’ll just be downstairs. You know to keep the door locked until I get back. And the secret knock so you know it’s me.” It was the most innocent way to teach the child about safety. An absolute necessity with the added threat of the doppels around.

“Ok, daddy.” She’s already found her next task to occupy herself, plopped now in front of the television. Too close to the screen, as usual.

He reminds her to sit further back, then turns to you. “Ready?”

You nod and he escorts you to the door. The brief ride on the elevator is silent. It’s the middle of February, and the heat in the building isn’t that good, but he’s already perspiring. His fingers twitch nervously. You’re standing so close beside him your sleeve brushes his.

The carriage halts and the doors slide open. You’re already digging in your backpack for the key. He knows he should turn and flee, right now. Get back to Anastacha. Make dinner. Forget all about you.

Instead he hovers just behind. You push open the door, immediately toeing your shoes off, little polished dress ones with thin black laces. “You want to come in for a minute? Have a drink?”

Oh, he does. He definitely does.

Francis steps inside and closes the door behind him, securing the deadbolt. It locks with a severe cracking sound of metal being driven forcefully together. You move to the fridge, bending slightly as you survey the options, listing each one to him.

It’s over. Doomed. The most cliché thing ever. The babysitter. Really? Fourteen years his junior. Only eighteen. Still in highschool. Fuck.

“Water’s fine.” His mouth is dry, his throat parched. He actually needs the moisture. He’s already pitched a tent, immediately obvious. Impossible to ignore. Your eyes have already spotted it after you straighten, shutting the appliance door. A faint flush in your cheeks. He recognizes the way your pupils have dilated, that signal of desire making the dark centers pool and spread until there is just the thinnest bit of iris encircling each. Your chest rises rapidly, you lips parting slightly, seeking an alternative source of air. “Tell me to leave,” he says, and it’s a plea, something dredged against his will from the depths of his soul that he barely manages to utter.

“No,” you say softly.

He steps closer, crowding you against the sink. His hand reaches out, settling on the side of your neck, shrouded beneath the fragrant curtain of your hair.

“Tell me to stop.”

His chest actually hurts, his heart is pounding so fiercely.

“No,” you deny him again.

His mouth brushes yours. Velvet. Your lips are absolutely plush, pliable. Peach skin. Sweeter than, when his tongue dips inside those parted wedges to taste the ambrosia nectar within.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he pants, and it’s his most desperate urge yet; his last resolve, his last shred of decency hanging by a thread.

“Francis,” you gasp, one hand sliding down to when he needs you most. A place you shouldn’t touch. But oh, how he needs it. His body is already responding, hips grinding against that delicate hand, pushing you further into the sharp edge of the counter. He can smell the last vestiges of the lemon dish soap in the sink behind you, a brief waft of clean citrus before his mouth crushes yours, drinking you in more deeply.

I tried to resist. I didn’t force you. You want this, too.

He’s kissed a few girls in his day. Your own experience level maybe not on par. There’s a certain awkwardness. Maybe from nervousness. But you’re a fast learner. The clumsier collisions of lips and tongue now meeting more smoothly as you map his own. He doesn’t even mind the accidental knocking of teeth, the inadvertent nip of his tongue. It just heightens the experience. Everything about you is the epitome of erotic. You’re gorgeous, sexy, perfect.

He’s got a handful of one breast curving against his palm now, that soft globe palpable beneath the layers of cotton shirt and the lace bra he’d spied earlier. Certainly nothing your father had picked out for you to wear. When had you purchased the lingerie? Did it make you feel wicked? Had you blushed in front of the shopkeeper? Did you choose it just for him?

The milkman is still grinding against your body. He could cum just like this, easily. Even without your hand there, sliding and squeezing. These motions unpracticed, just like the kissing. Maybe you were a virgin after all. His own prize to defile.

He should really guide you somewhere more comfortable. Couch, bed, anything. But that would mean moving apart from you, and he doesn’t want that. He can’t bear to separate from you at this point. The hem of your plaid skirt is gathered roughly in one fist and then he slides immediately to the center, finding your panties are made of the same material as your brassiere, a matching set. They have the stiff, scratchy feel of something new. You’ve definitely just gotten these.

You’re soaked.

His previous imaginings had indeed been correct. An absurd amount of arousal fluid leaks from the entrance his probing fingers skim across after dipping beneath the waistband. You’re making the most amazing sounds. He wishes he could record them, play them on repeat when you’re not around. He collects your slick on the pads of his digits and brings them back through your pert lips to your clit. You moan, low and gutteral, into his mouth. A filthy sound. Like animals, that’s what you’re behaving like. Frenzied and desperate to fuck. Your progress on opening his fly has been interrupted, your brain clearly short circuiting at his intimate touch, the pleasure proving too much of a distraction for you.

The older man’s saturated fingers glide over your pearl, drawing neat circles, as tidy as the coloring you’d done earlier. Refined movements. He swaps out for his thumb and sends his middle finger back through the dewy folds to tease your opening again. Pressing gently. Sealed tight. You haven’t even experimented here, have you? Not even so much as a tampon has ever breached this entrance. You whimper against his ear, your tongue darting out to taste the skin. Salted, no doubt. He was sweating like a man after a marathon. Nervousness. Excitement. Arousal.

“Francis,” you groan again, and the sound of it shoots straight through to his groin. You’ve finally got his pants open, dragging his cock out of his briefs. He’s watching your face as you do it. Sees your eyes widen. It’s going to be so difficult to stretch that virgin pussy over his prick. But he’ll manage it. He’ll manage.

Not today, though. There isn’t time. He hasn’t completely forgotten his other duties, the daughter waiting upstairs. Another time he’ll bury his face between your thighs before he introduces your womb properly to his dick. For now, he has to be content with shoving your panties down and rubbing his erection over your vulva, the fat mushroom head massaging your clit before parting the pink flesh of your sex and teasing your entrance, then back again, fucking against the slickness on the outside of your body. The angle and the height difference makes it difficult and he pauses only long enough to lift you and sit you on the edge of the counter, your ass dipping dangerously close into the stainless steel basin behind you, one arm keeping you balanced while his free hand continues manipulating his cock against your drenched cunt.

The kisses are as sloppy as your nether region now, whatever adroitness you’d acquired previously now forgotten in the wake of your desire. You’re keening and shaking.

“That’s it, baby girl. Cum for me,” the milkman croons encouragingly.

The hand curled around his neck tightens, gathering the ends of his hair and pulling them taut as you explode, the softer noises he’d elicited earlier now howls and whines. Your head flings back and he feels his cock finally surrender, shooting the load of cum that’s been building up, painting your abdomen and your pussy and your thighs, long spurts that recklessly splatter and slide down your soft skin.

He’s actually done it. He’d fucked around with the babysitter after your first day on the job.

Francis helps you ease back off the counter. You reach for the sponge resting on the back of the sink near the faucet, then think better of it, opting for paper towels instead, dampening them slightly before wiping away the traces of his indiscretion. He refastens his pants, taking a few paper towels for himself to wipe the sweat off his face and neck. Still panting slightly, still recovering. Coming down off the high of being intimate with you.

There’s guilt now, of course. Even though he technically hadn’t violated you. It wasn’t right, what he’d done to you.

But you’d wanted it, hadn’t you? He’d given you the opportunity to refuse him and you’d pulled him closer.

You’re the adult. You know better. Teenage hormones. You should have walked away.

Guilty, yes, but not nearly enough. And he can’t say he regrets it. Can’t fail to admit he’s already thinking about next time. There would surely be a next time.

He washes his hands. He can’t go home smelling like pussy, as much as he’d love to savor the taste and scent of you longer. He should have sneaked a sample before he’d cleansed them. Now they were just soapy and citrusy.

You walk him to the door.

“I have to get back,” he says, as if you’re unaware of the situation. Apologizing for the rushed nature of it all, maybe.

“I know.” Your voice is still soft.

He seats his hand on your cheek. Steals another kiss. It’s meant to be a brief parting one, but you’re already curling a fist into his work shirt, pulling him more tightly against your body. Unbelievably, his cock is twitching again.

“Baby girl, fuck, I have to go,” he reiterates, for himself as much as for your benefit. “I’ll see you soon.”

“My dad’s going to be home tomorrow,” you caution.

“Nacha’s only doing a half shift tomorrow. She’ll be home by five. It’s my long delivery day,” he murmurs regretfully. “I probably won’t get home until six or seven. The day after that is my lighter schedule. I’ll be done by three.”

You frown thoughtfully, then your features brighten. “Pick me up after school the day after, then? I’m staying late for yearbook anyway.”

Yearbook. Yes. Because you’re a senior. In highschool. Honestly, Francis.

“That’s a date, then. I mean, it’s not really a date,” he adds hastily.

“I know.” You stretch to kiss his mouth, this one more chaste, like he’d intended on doing previously. “I’ll see you then. I’ll wait out front by the main entrance.”

“I’ll be the guy in the delivery truck with the cow on the side.”

“Got it. Except…how do I know you’re not, you know, a doppel coming to kidnap me? Didn’t you mention a secret knock earlier?”

”Yes. It goes like this.” He creates a rhythm of staccato taps on the doorframe. “And you answer with this.” A different series this time. “Try it.”

You have the sequence nailed by the second attempt. You smile and something stirs in him. Just a little something. The faintest hum of feeling. The genesis of a tiny affection. Then the milkman finds himself back on the elevator. Suddenly anxious, fumbling the keys in the lock of his apartment door after using the secret knock. He’s relieved to find Ana safe and sound, greeting him less enthusiastically this time, immediately returning to whatever television program she’d been engrossed in.

Nacha’s taped directions to the filled glass baking dish in the fridge. Temperature, time. He turns the dials on the oven.

“You were gone a long time.”

Francis nearly jumps, surprised to find his daughter beside his elbow.

“No, not really, honey. Just had a snack while I was there,” he says, hoping the casual statement will placate her.

“How come you can eat before dinner and I can’t?”

“Because you’re a little girl and you don’t have the same appetite I do. Want to help set the table? First person to finish gets to eat dessert first,” he adds with a smirk.

The little girl scrambles into action, yanking open the drawer that houses the cutlery and he sighs with relief. He’d gotten away with it, for now.

But what would happen in the future?

#francis mosses x you #francis mosses x reader #thats not my neighbor #francis mosses #milkman #milkman x reader #milkman x you #the milkman #that’s not my neighbor #tnmn fanfic #tnmn francis mosses #tnmn milkman #tnmn #tnmn smut #francis mosses smut #divider @cafekitsune

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 1 year

Text

Cod Characters General Dating Headcanons (part one)

+ Random and Some bits of Chubby Fem S/O Headcanons with mentions of different nationality S/O

+ What type of BF/GF they would be

Including John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Fem terms and pronouns like she/her are used for the reader

ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ

My rules for requests and characters I can write for

Please comment if you want to be added to the taglist, the next part or cod content alone.

Taglist: @marshmallowinamess

A/n: Hi lovelies! Lia here, I'm back after a nerve-wracking week of school. This is a bit short but I hope you enjoy it otherwise. God I fucking hate school. I wrote all of this in a cold room, a heat pad on me (because period cramps) and at 3am so any mistakes will be edited out as soon as I'm aware of it.

This is divided into a multiple part thing (I think 2-3?) because God knows I can't fit them all in one post because of the limited amount of gifs and photos. I'll add more to these in the future, some are longer than others because I can't think. Also because I can't write them all at once, that's a lot to write okay 😭

Disclaimers/warnings: Typical Cod things, OOC characters???, Unrealistic, Some suggestive themes and language, I'm so sorry but English is not my first language so please don't come after me. Most of the content I've seen are on TikTok and Tumblr I don't actually play the game but I love the characters so much, same with any other content I have for other video games.

Tiny sidenote: the reader in this has been describe to be shorter than the characters and has been mentioned to have a soft body rather than the muscular type.

John Price

ꕥ (OH MY GOD LOOK AT HIS SMILEEE) (He's such a quokka)

ꕥ Price who literally is such a father figure, doesn't matter whether the relationship between you two is romantic or platonic. He often takes the dominant caring role.

ꕥ Doesn't smoke around you, doesn't matter if you insist he doesn't. He still won't and definitely will criticize you if you try or do smoke because he doesn't want you do end up like him.

ꕥ If there's a bit of an age gap between you, I'd say he's hesitant. Definitely afraid of what the rest of the task force thinks (He can't help it, they're basically his boys)

ꕥ John Price who wants to settle down with you, maybe have kids if you want but just a white picket fence life with you without the chaos that is war and his job.

ꕥ He only ever let's you have his hat, only when he gives it to you though. Most of the time it would be while you're out, he'd put it on your head from his. (Cowboy hat rule? I heard that in more respectful terms rather than sexual, it respectfully means that you are theirs)

ꕥ John Price who rests his chin at the top of your head no matter how much he needs to crouch down whenever hugging you from behind. Love doing it whenever you're busy doing something too. (Props for the effort because you cannot tell me he doesn't have back, neck and knee pains)

ꕥ Is constantly worried if you share the same line of work, like at first it was nothing but a tiny crush and slowly he finds himself caring about your well-being more and more over time.

ꕥ Can't help but think he's an acts of service type of guy, reaching up for things you need or better yet lifting you up so you can reach them and loves opening things for you like bottles or anything canned. (Girlies who get their nails done or wear press ons know this struggle ( I'm a press on girly)

ꕥ The kind of man who would turn on some oldies music and slow dance with you in the living room, your footsteps and breathing being the only other sounds as you smile at each other, foreheads against the other's.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

ꕥ Ghost who is such Doberman/Black cat boyfriend. Like have you seen this man? He's so tall and intimidating, one distasteful look from him and if it was physically possible that person would drop dead.

ꕥ Ghost whose a chubby chaser through and through, he just looks for something different from what he's used to.

ꕥ Is definitely a tits kinda guy, doesn't matter how big or how small they are. He'll definitely play with them in some way during doing the you know what.

ꕥ Feels like you can take him and his size better because of your plush body. Has a size kink and likes seeing it bulge a bit when he's inside you.

ꕥ You're just so soft and warm, he wants something away from what he usually feels doing his job. Not really that touchy but he gets quite clingy within closed doors.

ꕥ Likes to squeeze your thighs, his grip on them would not falter. Doesn't matter whether it's in a sexual or domestic way.

ꕥ Thinks you deserve better than what he can offer and needs constant reassurance, never says it out loud but you pick up on what he feels. (please be patient with him)

ꕥ More often than not, he thinks you're quite fragile. Even if you can protect yourself, one of his ways of showing you he loves you is through protecting you. Hence the Doberman boyfriend scenario.

ꕥ Doesn't like PDA but knows when it's necessary, him placing his arm around your shoulder is enough to keep perverts in their places. If that rando is really that bold then they'll most likely end up with a few broken bones depending on how pissed Simon is.

ꕥ If you work alongside him, he'd constantly worry about your well-being but at the same time is conflicted because he's confident that he can protect you.

ꕥ Only you and the TF141 can call him Simon, he still feels uneasy when he gets called that but when it's you saying it, it doesn't sound as daunting to him. Still dislikes in in certain tones of voice because his name reminds him of his past.

ꕥ You've seen his face, it took a long time but after that he trusted you enough to show him. The fact that you didn't find his face revolting and even kissed his scars while cupping his face was enough for him to want to marry you.

ꕥ Isn't fully insecure about his face but has his moments. (You know like the voice line where soap asks him to take off his mask and asked him if he was ugly and Ghost said "Negative")

ꕥ Takes a little while to get him to open up and little things like letting you hold him takes him a bit of time to get used to because it makes him feel vulnerable.

ꕥ God forbid something were to happen to you and he couldn't do anything to stop it, Simon would lose his fucking mind.

John "Soap" MacTavish

ꕥ Soap is a Golden Retriever boyfriend through and through. He's energetic, loyal and really affectionate.

ꕥ He's a lighthearted flirt at first because he doesn't wanna scare you off but damn does he gradually get bolder over time.

ꕥ Very hands on, touchy, and could be clingy at times unless you don't consent him, secretly always finding new ways to touch you.

ꕥ A sucker for cheek kisses, lips are his favorite but he can't help but break out a wide grin whenever you kiss his cheek. Can't help but feel kinda manly whenever you do.

ꕥ Adores making you laugh, no matter how stupid your sense of humor is he will absolutely say that joke if it gets a laugh out of you. Would be concerned if you had a dark sense of humor but will eventually get used to it. To describe it, hearing you laugh makes his heart feel full like in a content domestic way.

ꕥ Also, see the gif? You cannot tell me that he doesn't look at you that way because he absolutely would.

ꕥ Loves your weight against his body to the pint he's begging you to lay on him. You, him in the bed while he's shirtless with grey sweatpants on and you in your night clothes sharing each other's warmth with your head on his broad chest.

ꕥ Shows you silly and cute pet videos, especially the cat ones:

"[Name], look at this one!"

"Soap, we're not adopting a pet. Not right now at least"

ꕥ He was upset and gave you puppy eyes the whole time because the only time he had pet was when he was child, it was a hamster which was killed because it got sucked into the vacuum by his older sister.

ꕥ You're the only one allowed to tough his hair, he's very proud of his mohawk and will let you style it. Won't wear it out if you did something silly to it though.

ꕥ Soap who loves showing you off to everyone, loves light PDA but doesn't wanna potential put a target on your back.

ꕥ He definitely is the guy you want to take home to your family and friends (or found family <3), he's funny and easy to get along with. Very flirty with you but he'll straighten out because he's terrified on making a bad impression.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

ꕥ (HE'S SO FREAKING UNDERRATED WITHIN THIS FANDOM)

ꕥ He gives Labrador boyfriend vibes, you can't help but want to take care of him.

ꕥ Gaz who literally had to do a double take when he first saw you, he turned to Soap with that "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" look in a good way.

ꕥ Gaz who literally had to ask you out multiple times before you said yes thinking he's only doing it for a bet or a cruel joke.

ꕥ Constant reassurance from him because he doesn't want you to feel insecure about your looks because to him you are literally an angel.

ꕥ Loves to chill with you, cuddling and just relaxing. Maybe scrolling on TikTok occasionally and show you the funny ones he chuckled at.

ꕥ He has a sixth sense whenever you crave something, say you want chocolate or drink of some sort then he'd definitely being home whatever it is you we're craving without having to ask you.

ꕥ Kyle who has your Starbucks order memorized because he likes being the one to order things for you. Will playfully argue with you on who'll pay this time. (Don't even try anymore, he always wins anyway)

ꕥ Puts his hat on your head mostly when you're out, has done it the first time because it was hot out and the sun was in your eyes. He's picked it up from Price and once you smiled at him through the shade of his cap, he has not stopped doing it.

ꕥ Definitely a words of affirmation and acts of service kind of guy when it comes to love languages. Sometimes whenever he'd give you two thumbs up and a cheeky smile, you can't help but laugh a little.

ꕥ He's very thoughtful, so much so that he prides himself in knowing you better than anyone. Everytime you two go out to eat, when he gets something and know that you'll want to taste it (he knows damn well whether you'll like it or not when he tastes it) he'll bring it upon himself to order you one before you even say you want some.

ꕥ Soft snores when he sleeps, it's cute but you know damn well he's tired. Also I think he's very cuddly, like he just likes reminding himself that he's not alone and that his bed is warm because you're in it. Therefore at minimum always has an arm around you in bed.

ꕥ Dances in the rain with you and loves it when you pull him gently on his arm while your hands are intertwined. Takes note of how the the raindrops sometimes fall on your lashes while you look up at him smiling.

ꕥ Kyle Garrick who wants nothing more in the world to see you happy and smiling. His "this is the woman I'm going to marry" moment was when you baked his favorite cake for his birthday despite it being so hard, you nailed it perfectly. (Whether it's out of luck or skill is up to you)

Alejandro Vargas

ꕥ (idk how to write for this angry Mexican man but I'll try my best, love him and his megamind hairline though <3)

ꕥ Alejandro is definitely a flirt, a very bold on at that. He's quite forward when it comes to liking someone so yeah.

ꕥ He lives for it when you boss him around. That being said, he isn't picky about body type or any of the sort.

ꕥ Will teach you Spanish if you don't know any, definitely prioritizes the curse words and laughs whenever you jokingly call him pendejo.

ꕥ Wouldn't mind you teaching him your own culture and mother tongue. Bonus points if it's similar to his.

ꕥ Has Spanish nicknames for you because I imagine his own culture is important to him.

ꕥ Would hate it if you had the same line of work but will never take it out on you, it's just that it's so dangerous given the people he's involved with. (It's definitely Valeria)

ꕥ Speaking of El Sinombre, I don't think they had anything romantic going on. It's mainly platonic and the "betrayal" sucked on Alejandro's side. They definitely had some rivalry and the tension was through the roof. (Mainly because I headcanon Valeria as Lesbian)

ꕥ Can be so romantic when he tries, you can't tell me this mf ain't a smooth talker because he definitely is. Can be very blunt like in a forward way with his affection too.

ꕥ Likes kissing your wrist and feeling your pulse against his lips because it reminds him you're alive. (The amount of angst this scenario carries would be something I'm up for to write)

ꕥ Is sent on a fit of rage when something happens to you, say you got kidnapped then this man would tears off the walls of every building if he had to.

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

ꕥ (ANOTHER UNDERATED CHARACTER)

ꕥ Another Golden Retriever boyfriend. This man is just loving and dotting, very husband material.

ꕥ Loves chubby women, has a soft spot for them and just likes holding them.

ꕥ He's definitely used to the insecurity that comes with the body, also doesn't get why such beauty standards are even in place. Has and would fuck the insecure out of you again if he had to. (It's in a very gentle and loving manner)

ꕥ If you hold him in your arms, he'd be absolutely living for it. He already has had a long day and being honest he hasn't had many lovers that went far so having you care in this way about him would have him wrapped around your finger.

ꕥ Worships the ground you walk on. That's it.

ꕥ Would take everything to heart whenever you teach him or mention something within your culture if you aren't of Spanish origins like he is. He just loves you so much that it makes him happy knowing more about you.

ꕥ Would adore slow dancing with you, brings him back to reality where he realizes that he has you and that you're there.

ꕥ Terrified that one day you'll end up leaving him so reassurance would be much appreciated by him.

ꕥ Definitely a sucker for receiving forehead kisses, as for giving he likes to kiss the back of your hand.

ꕥ If ever danger presents itself to you too closely, he would have a heart attack like full on crying but not in public though.

#cod x reader #task force 141 x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #price x reader #los vaqueros x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rudy parra x reader #cod headcanons #cod x female reader #Aethelwyne Lia writes

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demibats · 2 months

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been thinking about richbuisnessman!eddie and how he would spoil you with gifts and jewels and different types of jewelry and clothes and accessories until one day he decides to get you an anklet with his initials on it and you surprise him one day buy putting on the lingerie he bought you a few weeks ago and putting the anklet on and everytime he hears it jingle while he’s thrusting into you he gets harder and rougher until youre both wore out 🤭🤭been thinking about doing a short fic on this but i would die to see your spin on it 👻👻

MY MIND IS REELING HOLY HELL. so i def took some creative liberties with this one because i wanted to stay true to eddie’s character, so in regards to him being a rich business man, i changed it just a bit 🤭 this has also been sitting in my ask box for probably near a year, but here ya go!!! changed it juuuuust slightly bc i believe that eddie munson is an absolute munch and eats pussy for his won pleasure. enjoy!

content warnings; smut (if you're under 18, do not interact!), fem terms and anatomy used, oral (f!receiving), eddie eating pussy because he loooooves it (and yes this needs it own tag), slight dom/sub dynamics, use of 'sir' as an honorific toward eddie

Eddie Munson is a modest man. With a wallet and dick that fat, you're surprised. Most men would be shouting from the rooftops of their penthouses that they're loaded, throwing hundreds at the dozen strippers they order every other friday night, just because they can.

But Eddie Munson isn't like that at all.

He doesn't live in some monstrous mansion or picturesque penthouse, he doesn't own six cars or a private jet. He isn't the kind of man to have a different girl in his bed every night, ones that really are only interested in him for his money. He's always been a gentleman and shot them down politely, but still met with a drink being thrown in his face or some uncalled for insult.

When you met him, he didn't give any indication that he had money. He wore a faded Dio shirt tucked into a pair of black slacks and a matching suit jacket. His thick fingers had scuffed silver rings, one for almost each of them. He had the most unruly curls you'd ever seen on a man. He flashed you a smile from your spot behind the bar, a toothpick hanging from the side of his mouth as he raised his glass in your direction, the men around him making comments about his boldness. From that moment forward, you were mesmerized.

The most difficult part about being romantically involved with him, was the gifts you'd receive from him. Eddie was very straight-foward with his wealth, he told you on your first date, to the exact same bar you tended. He told you he had toured with local bands from his hometown as an instrument and audio visual engineer. He made calls to different tour and musician managers to see if he would be able join their road crew. After a few years of life on the road, he managed to open up his own music shop. That's when the big bucks started flowing.

Despite knowing that he has more than enough money to spoil you with, you're still bashful and hesitant about accepting them. Hell, when he asked you to move in with him, you declined it almost immediately, not wanting to seem like you were financially leaning on him in any way. Even after you began living together, you maintained a 40-hour work week at the bar for some time.

The first gift, more like gifts, were beautiful bouquets of flowers he'd bring home to you. You'd be at home, curled up into the couch cushions with a paperback folded in your hands and in comes your darling boyfriend, ringed fingers curled around the green stems of another bouquet. Every Monday, he comes home from work with a fresh bouquet to replace your old ones. "To cure your Monday Blues, dollface," he'd say.

Then came the clothes. Every weekend he offered to take you shopping, saying something along the lines of, "Maybe we'll find something from one of those magazines you seem to actually read." Within the first month of living together, your portion of your shared closet took up the most space, at least a 3/4 ratio.

You feel beyond special, never taking his gifts for granted, especially since you're more than aware he knows he doesn't have to. He always tries to play it off, explaining how gift giving is just his love language. You might actually believe him, considering he gets his friends outrageous gifts as well, but it's different with you. There's a dark glimmer in his eyes when you tear back the paper encasing your newest present from your beloved.

Behind a deep maroon wrapping paper, lies a small white box. The name across the top of the box in golden script is of a jewelry shop you recognize. And it's not a cheap shop either. Lifting the lid off the box, your eyes flick up to meet Eddie, who's smirking, arms folded over his chest while a hand cradles his chin.

Once the gift has been revealed, a small gasp escapes from parted lips. It's a dainty anklet, sterling silver. As you lift the jewelry up by careful fingers, you notice the hanging letters. A less-than-subtle 'EM' charm hanging from it. It's also in a script font, making the 'E' look like a backwards '3'. A small gemstone sets between the initials, a beautiful cut ruby.

To say it's beautiful is an understatement. It's gorgeous, only something that Eddie Munson himself would think to be a perfect fit for his sweetheart. "Whaddya think?" He asks, though he already knows how you feel, more than confident at his gift-giving abilities.

"Eds, I love it. It's perfect, thank you," you chide, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips as another form of 'thank you.'

It isn't until Eddie decides that the two of you are going on vacation in Santorini that you ever really wear it. It's too ornate for every day wear, and a small part of you fears that it'll somehow slip or snap off and you'll have lost it.

Laid out on a reclining beach chair, you're soaking up the midday Grecian sun, shades perched atop the bridge of your nose and a mimosa in hand. The rental Eddie snagged for your two-week excursion was straight from a resort advertisement. The modern advancements made were stunning, but the architecture was true the city. You'd never imagined being sprawled out in front of a heated pool overlooking the beautiful seaside.

Aside from one of the many bikinis you packed for the trip and your sunglasses, you only had on the dainty anklet purchased by your lover. It settled against your skin and caught the sun's rays, making it shine.

"Look at you," you hear Eddie from over your shoulder. You hadn't heard him come outside, but the soft breath against the side of your neck made you jump, "spoiled rotten."

You can't help but snicker at his comment. He had made you this way with his expensive gifts, how could he judge? You decide to lean into this role of the 'spoiled rotten brat' he so lovingly teased you with, "What could you possibly want that's more important than me enjoying the sun?"

He knows better than to take the comment seriously, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he stands up from his crouched position, stepping to stand in front of the sun, "Wanna run that by me again, sweetheart?"

You see him now, in all his glory. Long curls pulled back into a bun, strands creeping out from either movement or humidity, you aren't sure. A pair of black swim trunks hang off his hips and a Metallica muscle tank has been pulled over his tattooed torso, the ink etched into his arms still exposed. Good enough to eat.

Pushing your shades up on top of your head, you roll eyes at him once they're visible, "Ugh, you're blocking the sun, Eddie."

The metalhead raises his hands in defeat, a small smile on his features as he steps to the side, allowing the sun to once again be soaked up into your pores, "Alright, alright. No need to get feisty. Come inside for a while, I made lunch."

Even though you felt assured you'd won whatever playful battle was at hand, you weren't sure you were ready to drop the facade. Though, you were getting hungry, and if Eddie cooked? Your mouth watered at the thought.

"Fine. But because I'm hungry, not because you asked." You taunt as you swing your legs off the chair's recline, sliding your feet into your sandals.

Following him inside, he opens the sliding glass door for you, like the perfect gentleman he's always been, before following you through the threshold, sliding it shut behind him.

As the two of you enter the kitchen, your eyes land on the empty stove and countertops, eyebrows knit together in confusion, "Eddie, you said you-"

You're cut off by Eddie's fingers digging into your hip, backing you up against the marble counter top. Lifting your gaze up to his, the breath is nearly sucked out of you at his imposing stance in front of you, "I might've told a white lie," he mumbles, eyes glued to where his hand meets your flesh. His fingers slide underneath the thin band to your bottoms before allowing it to snap against your skin, "but then again, your attitude needs an adjustment."

Even with his tone bordering on mean, he leans in and catches your lips in a passionate kiss, taking his time. He can taste the freshly squeezed orange juice on your tongue. A firm, tattooed hand stays at your hip, holding you in place as your arms slink around his neck. With both his kiss and touch still relatively gentle, the thoughts that you're able to process are that he'll remain stern with you, but not unreasonable.

The brunette brings his kiss to your neck, down to your collarbone, traveling lower and lower until he reaches your navel. Glossy brown orbs lock onto yours as he slides the bottoms of your swimsuit down your legs.

"Don't cum until I say so," he states, his tone brokering no room for argument, "Got it?"

You nod, hands already white-knuckling against the edge of the counter, "yes..."

"Yes what?" he questions as he brings your ankles out of the fabric, eye catching that gorgeous anklet.

"Yes sir," you breathe, head lulling back, shoulders slumping already at the thought of his face buried between your thighs.

He carefully brings your thigh over his shoulder, one hand gripping the flesh there while the other has a determined hold on your opposite hip. Before another word can be passed between the two of you, his face is pressed to your core, tongue flattening out to lick a slow stripe between your folds. Although he's taking his time, listening intently to every sound you make, no matter how quiet, he's relentless. Tongue dipping into your weeping hole, his nose catching on your clit every so often. He's tuned in with your body, it's subtle movements, the noises you make and what the different sounds mean. You couldn't derail his focus if you tried.

Your fingers weave through his umber tresses even with it being tied back with an elastic, "Oh fuck..."

He devours you, laps at the liquid arousal trickling out, the noises caused by his actions utterly obscene. Wet, slurping and sucking noises mixed with your combined moans were a perfect melody to him. Something he'd listen to every day in his headphones, on repeat, without pausing. He shifts his eyes up, his gaze burning the image of your shallow breath matched with the swift rise and fall of your chest to memory.

The grip you have on his hair only spurs him on, especially when you tighten it. Calloused hands drag down your thighs, keeping them settled at both sides of his head like a pair of noise-cancelling headphones. He feels the soft bite of cold metal against his back, then remembers the anklet. Popping off of your dripping cunt, his chin glistening in your arousal, he brings his your thigh off of his shoulder and brings his hand down to your ankle, fingers delicately tracing over the thin metal chain.

You offer a soft whimper at the loss of contact, half-lidded eyes locked onto his figure, "Wha.. Why'd you stop?"

Cocking his head to the side, he taps the pad of his index finger against the jewelry dangling off your ankle, "Just... admiring the leash you so willingly wear." He coos, the words filled with lust.

He dives back in, bringing both thighs onto his shoulders, face snugly between them. He doesn't relent until you're arching your back, shuddering with every flick of his tongue. Even then, he's still not satisfied, and neither of you. You're on the cusp of your orgasm, trying to let Eddie know, but he just gives three gentle taps to your hip and a disapproving grunt. His words ring in your ears, Don't cum until I say so ... Got it?

Just as you're sure you can't hold out on him any longer, he mumbles 'you can cum, sweetheart,' against your mound, then goes right back to his assault on your clit. You spasm, thighs clenched around his head to the point you're sure he can't breathe, orgasm tearing through your body like a ripcord. He slowly brings the aggressive flicks of his tongue to a stop once you're whimpering, out of breath, sensitivity having taken a strong hold on you.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, staying knelt between your legs as you catch your breath and return from the astral plane and back into your body. Though, he can't help but sneak glances at the silver anklet, and the 'EM" charm hanging off of it.

thank you for reading xx.

#꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ e. munson #eddie munson smut #demi's asks #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut

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novemberheart · 1 month

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{overview} You get attacked. Does your pack step up for you?

{warnings} violence, blood, mentions of sexual content (no sexual abuse), fem reader, cursing, poly141, pain, crying, angst, a/b/o dynamics

Chapter 10 <- Chapter 11 -> Chapter 12

It was Simon’s last day of physical therapy. If he passed this he would be cleared to get back out in the field. On his way, he dropped you off at another Omega Committee event. This one you were actually excited about. It was a hike through the forest at the far end of the base. Priya wasn't there and you wished you had the presence of mind to have asked her for her number. But luckily you ran into Anais.

“You smell like peaches and cream. Anyone ever told you that?” she asked. The sound of Johnny yelling “peaches” instantly ran through your mind.

“A few, yeah.” you smiled.

“Well that's what I'm going to call you, PC for short.” she giggled. You had been called worse. Anais was a chatter. You didn't really mind though.

“Can I ask you something- something personal,” she whispered, leaning even closer to you. Curiosity killed the cat.

“How does it work with all five of you? Do they take turns-” she whispered.

“Oh my god, Anais.” you couldn't help but chuckle, despite the flaming of your cheeks. To be honest you were wondering the same thing.

“That was too much! I'm so sorry. I was just curious and I thought we were friends”-

“Anais it's alright. If I knew I probably wouldn't mind sharing a bit of info.” You assured. She relaxed.

“So you haven't?”

“No,” you responded truthfully.

“Have you ever?” she trailed off. You hadn't. You never really had the chance. You weren't sure if your pack members would approve of you spilling this information everywhere. “I'll take that as a no.” she snickered. You gave her a playful side-eye.

“Don’t worry about it. Took me forever to lose mine too.” she signed.

“It has not been forever!” you gasped, swatting at her. She laughed loudly causing a few heads to turn. Neither of you really cared.

“Just don't get your hopes up. First times are always terrible,” she advised, bumping you with her arm.

“Thanks for the pep talk.” you huffed.

“Do you have a favorite pack member yet?” she asked suddenly. You quickly shook your head. You enjoyed them all- truthfully. “I think if I was in a pack I would have my favorites. Hopefully one would be my alpha, but you never know,” she smirked.

“Can I ask you something?” you began.

“Shoot.”

“Did it hurt when you were marked?” you questioned.

“The first time, yes. I was in a long-term relationship with an alpha who wasn't entirely nice.”

“I'm sorry Anais.”

She quickly waved you off. “Don't worry about it. It was a long time ago. The second time, not as much. He did it during my heat and it only hurt for a day when I came out of it.” she explained.

“You’re strong Anais.” you said. She flashed you a smile.

“We’re omegas, PC. We have to be.”

The hike back was partly uphill, which was nobody's favorite.

“It was so beautiful when we left. When did it get so bloody hot out?” you panted.

“Look. The heat turns you English.” Anais chuckled through her own pants. You may have picked up a few phrases from the boys.

“Alright, everyone, take five!” One of the group leaders shouted. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. You had made it to the edge of the base, still a little under half a mile to get back.

“I’m going to go refill my water. You need some?” you asked. Anais flopped down on the grass, her arms blocking her face from the sun.

“No thank you.” she groaned, rolling onto her stomach. You made your way up to the front, intending to tell one of the leaders you were going to go get some water. You huffed as the same five omegas were consuming all their attention. “Whatever.” you sighed. You knew where it was, you had filled your water bottle up with Kyle a few days ago when he took you bird watching. Besides, Anais knew where you were.

You made your way quickly towards the buildings, going between them to the other side where the water fountain was.

“My thumbs gonna fall off,” you grumbled. You had to press and hold the button down hard. Kyle made it look easy. Your ears perked up at the sound of footsteps. Your head darted around not seeing anything. You figured you didn't need water that bad and began walking back.

You were abruptly thrown to the ground. Your shorts offered absolutely no protection against the rough gravel. The whole left side of your body slid against the ground, the force of the shove sending you a few feet. There was a low growl behind you and you acted purely on instinct. You felt a hand on your ankle pulling you back. You flipped yourself around, swinging your arm luckily catching a man's face with your claws. He howled, throwing himself away from you. You quickly shuffled backward trying to find your footing.

“Shit, that's 141.” the other man with him cursed. He grabbed the bleeding man pulling him away. Even though they were leaving, you knew you weren't safe. You were finally able to get your footing and began running around the corner, almost knocking Anais down in the process.

“What the fuck!” she shrieked. You were beginning to bleed at this point. It started dripping down your left leg, and right knee. It was starting to show through your shirt on your left side, your elbow, both your hands, and your chin. “It's okay, lovie.” she soothed. You were trying your hardest to keep it together, not wanting to create a scene, however, the pain and fear were making it very difficult.

“I can't go back to the group like this,” you whined. People will think you’re crazy.

“Don't worry. This wasn't your fault. Everyone will understand.” she soothed, gently pulling you along. You held your ground shaking your head. “PC you're bleeding a lot. You need help.” she insisted.

“I want my pack.” you whimpered. You pressed the backside of your hand against your mouth, your throat constricting.

“If you come with me you can get to them.” she urged. It was the push you needed. Luckily you didn't get very far before a group leader noticed and raced towards you.

“What happened?” he questioned. You ignored him, not really in the mood to talk to strange men, and pulled your backpack forward grabbing your phone out of the front pocket. You were lucky it hadn't shattered in the ordeal.

“Someone attacked her.” Anais growled, annoyed that he couldn't use the context clues.

“Hello?” Johnny had picked up after one ring. Hearing his voice made it impossible to hold back any tears. You sobbed into the phone. You heard him repeat your name on the other end, it growing louder and louder every time it left his lips.

“I need you, please. I'm not really sure where I’m at.”

“It's alright, Bon. I have your location pulled up on my phone, I'm near there. Just don't hang up,” he assured. Your chip. You breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against the side of the building.

“I think you should head back to the group.” The group leader directed towards Anais.

“No way,” she growled. “I’m not leaving her”

“Thank you.” you mouthed.

“Of course,” she whispered back. She leaned against the building with you. The rest of the group was still there, the other group leaders trying to prevent them from getting any closer. You didn't need to worry about that, as Johnny quickly rounded the corner, gravel flying under his feet. His mouth fell open at the state of you. His arms extended out and you quickly threw yourself at him, neither of you caring about any blood, sweat, or tears.

“I got you, baby,” he whispered, causing you to lose it again.

“I want to go home.” you whimpered, against his shoulder. Your legs were wrapped firmly around his waist, his arms squeezing you so hard you might have even more bruises.

“Alright.” he soothed. He nodded his head to the group leader and Anais.

“I'll come and visit you in a few days,” Anais called after you.

“Thank you.” you sputtered back. He didn't say a word but pressed his lips against the side of your head every few feet. He stopped setting you down causing you to sob louder. He peeled off his jacket quickly. Carefully dabbing your legs, where the most blood was coming out. He didn't want you to leave a trail of blood everywhere.

He went a back way, not wanting everyone to see his bloodied-up omega. Johnny carried you like you were a feather, weaving through buildings like it was just another day. Well to him it probably was.

Luckily too many people weren't hanging out around your home, the few that did were ignored or met with a snarl. You whimpered at the sound, all your senses on overdrive. You could tell how upset Johnny was, even though you couldn't smell him. He was shaking, growls escaping him nearly every moment. “Almost there.” he soothed. He made it out of the elevator, slamming his key card against the sensor and throwing open the door.

He set you down on the kitchen counter, making no move to pull away from you. He needed to calm you down first.

“S’alright,” he repeated against your head. “I need you to relax for me, lass. Gonna get you all taken care of, aye?” he shut his eyes tightly, resting his body against yours. Your hands dug into his shirt, and you growled at the inability to smell him. “I know what’ll help.” he soothed. He pulled away causing you to whine, and he darted into John's room grabbing a shirt out of his dresser. He brought it back, holding it up towards your face. You were about to bury your face in it but stopped.

“I don't want to get it bloody.” you sobbed.

“He won't mind, bon. Plus we know how to get blood stains out.”

You didn't need to be told twice, you buried your face into the fabric, nuzzling up to Johnny again. After a few moments, your breathing returned to normal and the tears fell quietly. You were quivering now, the pain making up for the loss of adrenaline. “Gonna tell the rest, okay?” he asked, causing you to nod.

He grabbed his phone out of his pocket.

-come home asap. Omega emergency

He tossed the phone on the counter, pulling away from you, sitting down in one of the stools so he was almost face-to-face with you.

“Need you to tell me what happened,” he demanded softly. He kept his jacket pressed against your legs and used a sleeve to stop the bleeding of your elbow.

“I went to get water,” you whispered. Your eyes burned, now dry. “I heard someone walking so I started to leave then all of a sudden someone pushed me to the ground.” his face twitched, his jaw clenching so hard you worried for his teeth. “He grabbed my ankle and started pulling me back, but I turned around and scratched him across his face. One of them said something about 141 and then they ran away,” you explained.

“That’s good. Did exactly what you should've. This happen by the water fountain?” he asked.

“Mhhh,” you confirmed, wondering what he was getting at. The door swung open.

“Holy shit,” Kyle hissed, eyeing you up and down. He was a bit out of breath and you wondered if he ran all the way here like Johnny had. “Let me see.” he insisted, nearly pushing Johnny out of the way. He peeled away the sweatshirt and pulled John's shirt out of your hands.

“Some bastards shoved her.” Johnny snarled.

“By where you took me to see the birds,” you spoke up.

“They've got cameras.” Kyle said exactly what Johnny was thinking. “Should get it pulled up for when the alphas come.” As if on cue the door slammed open again.

“Where is sh”- John cut himself off. “Let me see.” he demanded, pushing Kyle out of the way. If you weren't in pain you would've laughed.

“Someone pushed me, Johnny’s trying to find it on the cameras.” you caught him up to speed. Simon moved towards Johnny glaring over his shoulder at the device. “It was my fault,” you whispered to John. Everyone's head snapped to you. John had your face in his hands, looking over your chin. “I went away from the group to get some water. I should've stayed with the”-

“You don't get to take credit for this.” John sneered. “I don't care where the hell you are, who you are around, this should never happen to you. Understand?” he ordered.

“Yes, Alpha,” you responded quickly.

“Don't make it a habit though,” Kyle spoke, hovering back over by you and John.

“Got it,” Johnny said. John left you but Kyle stayed.

“I'm gonna take a few pictures of you, love. Gotta keep the evidence,” he explained.

“Okay,” you replied softly. Your eyes trained on the three men watching the video. Johnny's face curled again, gripping his phone so tight his knuckles were white. Simon and John appeared to be fairly level-headed, trying to pick up on every detail.

“Record it before someone deletes it,” John instructed. John came back to you, pressing his lips against your forehead. “I’m going to go take care of a few things. Me and Simon’ll be back soon,” he spoke through gritted teeth, taking an inhale of your scent to prevent himself from shaking. He pulled away, Simon following behind him like a dog. “Send me the pictures after.”

“You did good, pup.” Simon praised, heading out the door with John.

Hi friends! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Chapter 12 will be up in two days! See you then! 🧡

#novemberheart #captain john price #gaz x reader #ghost x reader #kyle gaz garrick #poly141 #price x reader #simon ghost riley #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish #captain john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #as needed #cod men #cod x fem!reader #cod x reader #cod x you

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kanmom51 · 7 days

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Jikook - Are you sure?!

My take is that they pretty much are!!

I've been mulling over this for a few days now.

Do I write this? How do I approach the subject and how do I even put this onto paper (figuratively)?

I touched on this a little in previous posts, including in my last one about choices. Clear cut choices the two of them made regarding enlistment, the show and how they wanted to spend the little spare time they had before their restrictive 18 months military service.

But this post here is specifically about the show.

Even before the show came out I was thinking about the subject and discussing this with friends. Why do the show? Is there something they are wanting to tell us and if so what is it they are trying to tell us?

The first question was an obvious to me even before the show came out, before we heard their discussion in the car on the way to CT.

It was a way to spend time together in the guise of work (once again, a choice they made so that they can spend much needed quality time together within the constricts of their schedules and upcoming enlistment - and that car discussion sure did show us just how much this was a need for the two of them).

Being such a short time before enlistment, both with separate super busy solo schedules, this here was their way of getting to travel together, including out of the country (for which they needed it to be for work to allow said travel at this point prior to enlistment), spend quality time together, creating those new memories to carry with them into the military, all while under the protection of "work".

It's not that they hadn't spent time together. We talked about this already. This was about it not being enough. Not enough quality time. Not enough memory making time before this life changing event they are going to go through.

We have to remember that when this was initially thought about, the idea of the show, them enlisting together was not a done deal. Can you just imagine that? Them knowing that time is running out and they have to enlist but might have to part ways for 18 months? If so many of us were so stressed out about the idea, what do you think it felt like for them?

There was so much going on behind the scenes, which we were unaware of, it's actually quite comical knowing what we know today and looking back at the discourse surrounding those two - the stories of heartbreaking breakups or just plain indifference to each other - all because people just cannot come to terms with the fact that not all their lives are out on display for us (kind of blows to pieces the whole Jikook are for fanservice narrative, if you ask me), that these two can and do spend time together when only they can, behind closed doors, just enjoying each other's company doing whatever. That there are powers at play (many reasons why they were toned down in public and content in 2023), that there are things they might need to be doing in order to reach an end goal that suits them, playing a long game. And the one sentence I have on repeat since I started here on Tumblr:

Not seeing them most definitely does not mean they aren't there.

And boy did they prove that one to us during AYS. Time after time. They get together. They see each other. They spend time with each other. They share things with each other. And huge surprise (NOT): they do it off camera!!! Without us knowing. Without reporting back to us. WOW!!!

As usual, off track meet Kanmom...

Back to the show.

So, talk about doing this came before they knew for sure that they would be enlisting together. It came months before. Way before July 2023. Toying with the idea, turning it into a plan of sorts and then it took planning and booking and getting permits for filming, including using drones for filming.

This might partially explain why the first trip happened in July and not earlier, although they both did have busy schedules pretty much from April 2023 onward and the trip happened when JM finished recording Muse).

And what about the destinations? Why these three?

Connecticut - I think this one was more of a chance decision, as in it was suggested to them seeing that timewise this was the only time they had available for that first much much needed trip. JK was already scheduled to be in the USA, they had Hybe America to rely on as far as finding locations, places to stay, activities to do and places to eat. And I do think that doing this, the unknown location in a country where they don't speak the language fluently was actually something of a thrill to them as well (going to a location where the chances of them being recognized as JM and JK of BTS were kind of low). But mainly, I do believe this was more of a "we need this trip and we need it now, so we will go wherever, just make it happen" kind of situation. This was "the much needed trip".

Jeju - Jeju is a safe place for them. A place they both love and have visited multiple times separately and together (the last time prior to this trip was only weeks before). Even without Tae, this would have been a lighthearted, activity filled fun trip. Tae being there highlighted them, their intimacy, their connection with each other. And it probably did tame down some of their naughtiness, although we did get to see plenty of that as well. This was "the fun trip".

Sapporo - Japan as a whole is a destination they love. I mean, and JK said that himself, Tokyo is where they took their first alone trip together, they loved Tokyo, and the memories from that trip are dear to their heart to this day. They got to do Tokyo together again. Not together all the time, probably not as much as they wanted to either, but still managed to spend some time together in Tokyo before moving on to Sapporo where they filmed the show. A trip to Japan, Tokyo, and Sapporo as well is a sentimental one. Places they have been, places where good memories were made (as part of BTS and as a couple), places where they will make more good memories that they will carry with them to the military. This is "the emotional/ sentimental trip", or "the nostalgic trip".

And you can see the difference in their behavior between the three trips. Each and every one of those trips meant so much to them but each in a different way. And when you look back at the three as a whole they needed all three.

The perfect trifecta.

The idea was spending time together, making it a work thing allowed for the travel abroad, but it also carved it into a work schedule. Which means, unlike regular time off that can be moved and cancelled, doing this set their plans in stone, in a way, ensuring that these trips actually happened.

This was also a huge opportunity for JM and JK to create content for Army for when they were away. A choice to showcase themselves, their "chemistry", a word used a lot to describe the show. This, on the one hand, was great for JM, who obviously does not want to be visible during his service (and JK is kind of the same, especially when he has JM by his side), and on the other hand created content for Hybe to release while they were away. And having it on Disney, creating merch and a photobook (and maybe there is more stuff to come) is more income for the company while they are away, so win win (that explains Hybe agreeing to this in the first place).

All those are obvious, clear reasons as to why this show came into fruition.

But I do think there is more.

And before I move on to that, I want to remind us all, once again and with feeling, that all 3 destinations were supposed to be Jikook and Jikook only. Jeju was not meant to be a maknae destination. Tae was not invited, and I mean no malice in that. It's just me stating the truth. They let him know that multiple times during the trip. And him being there, in a sense, just highlighted how different they are with each other than either of them or both of them with Tae.

So, they wanted to do a show, just the two of them, visiting different destinations, enjoying different activities, good food and just being (the whole them just being was more evident in CT and Sapporo because of it only being the two of them, although we certainly did get some Jikook BEING moments from Jeju as well).

I get wanting to spend the time together, carve out new memories to carry with them into enlistment, but why show it to us, why the way it was done? Hours and hours of Jikook content, some of just the two basically doing nothing, or nothing much? It's not about sightseeing (not really), it's not about the activities, not really, it's not even about the food (gasp).

This is not about the travel, it's about them!!!

It's about them doing their thing, and us just enjoying sitting for hours on end, watching them do their thing and SEEING them.

Not the places they go, not the things they do, not even the food they eat. It's seeing them do those things, eat those things, be together - them just BE.

And it's about them wanting to give that to us. They want us to see THEM. See what they are together, what they are to each other.

JK and JM know that there are parts of the fandom that have a visceral reaction to them, as Jikook (together and apart - a lot of said hate stems from what and who they are together) . We know that JK monitors SM. Maybe not down to the ugliest, but they know. And still they want to show themselves, because this is who they are and they want to be able to be themselves as freely as possible (depending on just how far they want to be going).

They can't come out and tell us, not yet, maybe not ever. It is what it is, sadly.

But they do want to cement this within the fandom:

JM and JK together can be over the top in every sense. PERIOD.

And when I say over the top I mean as sus as shit...

JM and JK love each other dearly. PERIOD.

JM and JK are inseparable. PERIOD.

JM and JK are close as can be. PERIOD.

JM and JK enjoy spending time with each other. PERIOD.

JM and JK CHOOSE to spend time with each other when they can (the whole Jeju change of plans makes it even clearer) - PERIOD.

JM and JK NEED to spend time with each other. PERIOD.

JM and JK are playful together, as much as they are serious together - PERIOD.

JM and JK care for each other and take care of each other (well they try to as much as the other allows it). PERIOD.

JM and JK enjoy to do the exciting and the mundane together. PERIOD.

*I do believe that JK climbing is just as exciting as rock climbing. And they enjoyed both...

JM and JK know each other intimately - PERIOD.

JM and JK find safety, peace and comfort in each other - PERIOD.

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JM and JK do not act like a typical "we are not in a relationship" hyung and donsaeng act - PERIOD.

JM and JK do things bros just do not do with or to each other - PERIOD.

JM and JK share their work with each other - PERIOD.

JM and JK are the embodiment of You are me I am you - PERIOD.

Jikook can most definitley be seen as a unit. PERIOD.

*Something that has been shied away from for too damn long.

Add to all of that those the things you just can't put into words. But they are there. They are undeniable. That chemistry, that love, that need, that je ne sais quoi, that engulfs everything else and makes it all feel like so much MORE!!!

More palpable, more intense, just MORE.

Remember my whole rubber band theory starting way back in 2021, how I think Hybe and Jikook were stretching the boundaries seeing just how far it can be stretched without breaking?

Ear suck stretch, pas de deux stretch, Christmas couples cheer stretch, hickey stretch (these are all moments that were either shown by the company in official content - like memories - or part of officially filmed content - like filmed performances)... and then came 2022 followed by 2023, with the company taking 20 steps back, but that's for another day (if ever).

This here, my friends, is the ultimate rubber band stretch. Hours and hours of content to show us that every single one of those Jikook instances that came before were not a one of. Not forced. Not singular and far apart. That what we have seen of them is NOTHING compared to what they are, because this is them all the damn time. Cameras on cameras off (dare I say that when cameras are off it's way worse?). Together with the others, or by themselves. No more "it might be out of context". We get the context, most of it, and still we get THEM. And that rubber band, it still hasn't snapped, cause there are still those that do not see it, lol. But, I think it's safe to say that many do and those that don't, well, many of them cannot deny anymore just how close they are. Even though "brothers" or "besties" still comes up a lot.

It's funny how things that were obvious to many of us needed to be reinforced by JM and JK in this show. It always baffled me the way a big chunk of this fandom steered away from Jikook, like touching on the subject was a taboo. Like Jikookers were insane, delusional (we are used to be called that). Not only steering away from a romantic involvement, but also that, god forbid, they are the closest within the group of 7. That didn't sit right with many. Ruined their Vmin soulmates dreams, or TKK best mates or whatever (do we raise the subject once again why the clearly closest duo in the group were kind of put aside, not acknowledged as such not only by the fandom but by the company as well?). OR, and I feel like this one is the winner, admitting as to how close those two were, with their clear super suspicious behaviour, would have them have to admit that there was something more going on between them. Homophobia or over wokeness, either way these people were ignoring what the two were signaling to us for years now. And now, well now, we are in chapter 2, or perhaps just before chapter 3. All of them after service. We know from RM how he's bursting at the seams to tell us things he feels he can't say just yet (and couldn't prior to enlistment), I do believe this is going to be something we will be seeing from all of them. They are mature men now, they have fulfilled their duty to their country, they are BTS, talented successful, rich artists. They have signed new contracts after long negotiations. They will have more freedom. And they will be showing us more. Things they couldn't before. And this show, imo, is one of those steps forward.

Let the world see JM and JK as they are. There will be those that SEE them. There will be those that acknowledge their closeness. There will always be those that continue to deny or hate them because they SEE them. But at the end of the day, this here is a step forward for them to be able to live their lives openly, be who they are to each other and with each other, not have to hide or tone back too much (there will always be toning back because you can't be too open on camera and because at this point they are kind of used to it). They don't have to 'come out' officially loudly (if they do not choose to). As long as they can continue to BE the way they want to and live their lives freely the way they want to. It's always been their choice, but this here allows them more freedom within that glass closet if they choose not to break through it. They will be who they are, live their lives freely as they will, leaving others to think as they want, neither denying nor confirming anything.

Let's be clear here though. This too is a choice. A brave one as such. Because no matter what they decide to do, if it is to leave things as they are, or if they decide post military service to 'come out' as a couple (and there could be reasons for them to make that choice), this show here is as loud as @&#%.

And proud as $@&%

*And for clarification sake, just incase, none of the above is me voicing my opinion about if or should they 'come out' or not after being discharged from the military.

I can't believe AYS is coming to an end. Last episode tomorrow. I know we still have the behinds and we still have the photobook coming, but I sure am feeling the "the show has come to an end" blues. This here, what we got with this show I don't know if we will ever get another chance at. Them letting us in as much as they did. I do hope they know just how much we appreciate them allowing us to see THEM and how very much they are loved!!!

#Jikook #Kookmin #Minkook #Jungkook #Jimin #JK #JM #Are you sure? Jikook #Are you sure? CT #Are you sure? Jeju #Are you sure? Sapporo

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chilschuck · 5 months

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omg… thinking abt chil reconnecting w his ex wife and becoming platonic besties. imagine they talk about it finding love again (chil’s ex has a new gf)… chil realises he’s caught feelings for reader… his ex teasing him about it…

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ OMG ANON THIS HAD ME GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET, WAHHHH. SUCH A CUTE IDEA!!!! it’s currently 2 am but i had to get this out for you since you’ve been waiting a while!!! it was so much fun!! <33

— ALL BECAUSE OF YOU.

꒰ info: ꒱ chilchuck x gn!reader

꒰ warnings: ꒱ none, sfw!! some cussing ofc lol

꒰ wc: ꒱ 586

✦ tumblr deleted this before i could post it twice so let’s pray it posts this time, LOL. short but sweet, i hope you enjoy!!! <333

“So… Who are they?”

That simple question was enough to make him choke on his drink. Was he that easy to read? Catching his breath, the half-foot immediately sputtered.

“What are you talking about?” Yet, the knowing look on her face said it all. Even if they had been separated for this long, she could still figure out just what he was hiding. So much for trying to keep some things personal…

“You have this expression, this content smile I haven’t seen in years, Chilchuck. Someone’s making you happy.” Her tone was not condescending in the slightest, rather content with this new revelation. Her words caused his cheeks to flush, more than the ale in his cup could.

And she was right. He was coming to terms with his feelings; and even the thought of you was enough to make him whole again. The fact it was so obvious was rather embarrassing, and he could feel the tips of his ears burn.

“Yeah, yeah… I guess you figured it out before I got a chance to tell you.”

They were nothing like they used to be, having settled on staying close through friendship. Although this maybe would’ve been hard to do in the past, Chilchuck felt more peaceful than he thinks he has in years. There was something about you that lit fire to his senses in ways he had long forgotten, and he found himself seeking you out more than he’d like to admit.

“I’ve told you plenty about my new girlfriend, now it’s your turn to spill. What are they like? It’s a sight to see you this happy.”

It was something only someone who really knew him could see; the change in his demeanor, the light in his eyes, the smile that threatened to spill from the corners of his lips. And it was all because of you.

“You’re going to laugh when I tell you how I met them,” he began, licking the ale from his lips in thought. “Laios’ party. I really ended up eating my own words about inner party romance, huh?” The last sentence came out in a grumble, one that caused her to laugh.

“Wow, they made you go against your own rules? Must be a keeper.”

And you were. Warm, but not enough to burn. Bright, but not blindingly so. Sweet, but not sickening. Chilchuck found himself feeling like a teenager again when it came to you. He bit his tongue.

“So you’re going to confess to them, right?” She teased, prodding his shoulder. “Look at you, blushing like a schoolboy. Must be serious.”

He opened his mouth to retort, before closing it again. The words died before he could speak, the full gravity of his feelings for you hitting him like a freight train. Burying his head in his arms, he groaned. “Shit…”

Chilchuck was doomed. Yet even as his head spiraled from a mixture of the alcohol and his new found love, it always went back to you. You, and your smiles, and your laugh, and your touch. There weren’t enough curse words he could possibly growl out in this moment to make himself feel better.

His ex wife laughed again, patting him on the back and stirring him from his thoughts. “Jeez, you really are a schoolboy. Maybe you should give them a love letter while you’re at it. Might be smart, actually.”

That’s how the rest of their time together went; two close friends musing about the ability to find love again. All because of you.

— dividers by @/cafekitsune! <3

#⟡ lilia writes! 🌿#୨ chilchuck my beloved ୧ #this was SUCH A GREAT IDEA!!!!#LOVE LOVE LOVE!!!!#so much fun to write hehe #sorry it’s so short!!!#i must get to bed soon….#chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #dunmeshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #dungeon meshi x reader

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dreamgrlarchive · 1 year

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Dear dream girl, I really want to be my dream girl but I don’t know where to start. I feel unmotivated most of the time and I only get a burst of motivation at like 3 am. I just what to glow and radiate good energy for myself and find/do what I like

Oh, So You Wanna Be a Dream Girl? 🎀

starting your dream girl journey

Congrats on choosing yourself and your tiara; I am so proud. Prepare to not be liked, to be judged, and to stand out. It’s lonely at the top.

*this guide is for starting the process, not reaching the end result because my version of my own dream girl is inevitably different than yours. bare in mind i’m not holding your hand. i’m nudging you in a good direction.

what is a dream girl?

a dream girl is a girl that has finally fallen in love with who she sees in the mirror. she’s the girl that she can depend on. she has her desired look and she’s on the path to self actualization actively. she’s aware of her branding. she holds herself to the standards she holds other to; and they are HIGH. her self worth isn’t contingent upon a love interest, amount of money, or social status. she’s simply that girl.

do some healing.

yes, i said it. healing. like i’ve said before, you cannot put glitter on literal garbage. that’s not even the slightest bit appealing. you’re gonna journal about your childhood, your biggest influences in life, your biggest fears and how you feel life has treated you. this calls for shadow work. shadow working really helped me figure out some of my toxic traits and how some of the things that were considered normal to me as a child have affected me in the long run. you’re also gonna write hypothetical letters to your loved (and not-so-loved) ones, including yourself. let it all out. say everything you want that person to know. around you or not, dead or alive. prepare to clam up, cry, get angry, feel anxious. good. you should. you feel clammy, hot and sometimes pain when your body is fighting off and healing from a physical sickness. now you’re dealing with the developmental, mental, and emotional parts. you’re doing yourself a disservice choosing to stay the same toxic, nasty, mean, or victimized person you’ve always been.

what do you want?

before you can start to even do the smallest improvements, you have to have a clear goal. or else you’ll just be running around in circles (heh) over grandiose blurry wishful thinking. ultimately resulting in you giving up and choosing to be basic bc it’s easier. what do you want out of life? how do you want to be treated? what do you want to do? what makes you happy? and most importantly, how do you want to feel? see, it’s more than just the frills and glitter. you have to know what you’re trying to get to, internally and externally.

grab a diary, adorn it with pretty little details and commit to it. pair it with your fav writing utensil. outline all of your goals. every single last one of them. you can categorize them, scale them from short to long term, easy to hard. it doesn’t matter. do absolutely what you want to do to make a concrete record of your goals that’s digestible for you.

what are you going to do?

*fabulosity by kimora lee simmons*

compare your dream reality to the one you’re currently experiencing. what is she doing that you aren’t? that’s it. do that. anyone can read blogs about the process and other people success stories but those posts aren’t gonna change your life unless you get up and go for what you want. i don’t know what exactly you desire out of life. you do. so you have the instructions for this journey. the first part was easy, this is simple but not nearly as effortless. it’s up to you and not anyone else. you teach others how to treat you. improvements you can make include better: hygiene, self talk/treatment, outward energy, work ethic, discipline, health, consumed content, relationships, looks, habits.

the work

it’s time to apply yourself. get up everyday and actively work towards your goal. be kind to yourself. take yourself to the doctors. get active. eat right. find your passion. DO THE HEALING.

everyone’s journey is SO different so i’m just going to do a quick rundown of the importance of each of the ten facets of your dream girl journey (that build upon each other. ie; looks do not benefit you when your hygiene is insufficient):

*these facets are loosely based on maslow’s hierarchy of needs

health - are you taking care of yourself? please treat yourself how you would your loved ones. you’ll be surprised how physical issues manifest mentally, and vice versa. get adequate sleep. take baby steps if need be. some of these adjustments may be huge to you. be gracious with your journey.

consumed content - everything you engage in is your diet. the company you keep, food you eat, music you enjoy. you get the idea. do you feel light and ready to take on the day? or do you feel drained and sick more often than not. make some adjustments wherever you see necessary.

hygiene - extremely important. stick to a routine for your hygienic needs. you should have rituals you engage in everyday. don’t forget that your health and hygiene go hand in hand. oral and feminine hygiene is so crazily important. please don’t neglect yourself. i talk about my routines in detail here.

habits - daily habits are so crucial to your lifestyle. adjust these and consciously break your bad habits by supplementing your life with equal and opposite habits.

self talk/treatment - simple. be kind to yourself. hold yourself accountable for flaws and mistakes while loving yourself enough to be patient with the journey of improving.

outward energy - be very aware of the vibes you’re permeating. again this is so a huge determination of how you will be treated and how you will live your life.

work ethic/discipline - it’s gonna take serious accountability to escape the desire to stay comfortable. you have to tell yourself that you deserve *your desired end result* so you will *make specific change/adjustment.* it’s that simple (again simple doesn’t mean easy).

relationships - if you don’t like the way you’re treated by those in your life, those relationships need to be reevaluated. you can make some trims on your circle, have some honest conversations, or adjust your behaviors (because sometimes, YOU are the problem).

passion and career - in order to feel fulfilled in life, we all need a purpose. discover yours. incorporate your passion into your daily life.

looks - develop your signature and hone in on it. looks are very important to your perception (self and public). check out this guide to help with this part. however you wanna feel is how you should display yourself.

be a dream girl!

you’ve discovered all the facets of creating your dream self and reality. now it’s time to apply what you’ve learned. start showing up in life in the fashion you want to be seen in.

that’s it! the rest is up to you!

- xoxo, dreamgrlarchive 🎀

#dream girl journey #my posts #dream girl cultivation #dream girl wellness

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leidensygdom · 11 days

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Hasbro's CEO is, once again, expressing interest in using AI at WOTC

Not surprising, but I think his own chit-chat about it (directed at shareholders, of course) is quite the read (derogatory):

"Inside of development, we've already been using AI. It's mostly machine-learning-based AI or proprietary AI as opposed to a ChatGPT approach. We will deploy it significantly and liberally internally as both a knowledge worker aid and as a development aid. I'm probably more excited though about the playful elements of AI. If you look at a typical D&D player....I play with probably 30 or 40 people regularly. There's not a single person who doesn't use AI somehow for either campaign development or character development or story ideas. That's a clear signal that we need to be embracing it. We need to do it carefully, we need to do it responsibly, we need to make sure we pay creators for their work, and we need to make sure we're clear when something is AI-generated. But the themes around using AI to enable user-generated content, using AI to streamline new player introduction, using AI for emergent storytelling, I think you're going to see that not just our hardcore brands like D&D but also multiple of our brands."

This directly fights against WOTC's already very weak claims about not wanting to use AI (after massive backslash from players anytime they had tried to get away with it), and does paint quite the bleak future for DnD and Magic the Gathering. AI usage doesn't really benefit the consumer in any way- It's like a company known for nice homemade cakes trying to tell you that factory made cakes are actually also good and you should be buying them too. The cakes aren't better. You can get those cakes elsewhere. The only person benefiting from factory made cakes is the one selling them, because they're the one saving time and money by making them that way.

But short-term benefits (through firing large portions of their artists and replacing them with AI made slop) outweighs any attempt to maybe get some trust from their already alienated consumers back. I also find it kind of incredibly funny and pathetic how this man claims to play DnD with about 30 to 40 people and "how every single one of them uses AI". I'm not entirely sure this guy is even aware of how DnD groups are usually sized, and how you would not have any physical time to do anything if you somehow played with 40 players on the regular (that'd be about 10 games!)

Anyways, as always, there's nice TTRPGs out there that don't absolutely despise their customer base nor are obsessed with cutting any remains of humanity out of their product to save a few cents. Play Lancer, play Blades in the Dark, play Pathfinder or Starfinder 2e if you want the DnD experience without the bullshit. Plenty of options out there that deserve your money far more than DnD.

#ttrpg #ttrpgs #hasbro #wotc #wizards of the coast #mtg #magic the gathering #long post #i know i rant a lot about wotc so uhhh feel free to mute wotc as a tag if you wanna filter them

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

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Summer Breeze 7

Warnings: age gap (reader is 22, Andrew is mid 40s), dad’s friend, Andy being Andrew, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

Andy returns in the afternoon. The day is a void in your mind. You don’t feel as if any time has passed at all yet you know you’ve been waiting for hours. Sitting, pacing, watching. You’re dizzy, almost dazed, as you can’t settle enough to stay still.

As you stare at your father’s unmoving body, your ears filled with the noise of pumping and beeping machine, Andy nudges you gently. He holds out some clothes. Yours. You recognise the rainbow striped shirt and faded denim. You thank him and shuffle out to change. You know you need to put something on. Your skin is speckled in goosebumps in the ever-frigid hospital.

You pull on the shorts and the shirt and ball up your bikini, keeping the hoody slung over your forearm. You go back to your dad’s room and offer Andy his sweater. He waves you off and tells you to keep it. His blue eyes focus on the bed, a furrow between his brows.

“Anyone come check on him?” He asks.

“The nurse, a couple times,” you answer. “No change.”

“Mm, alright,” he rubs the side of his nose, “I got your bag in the car. Tried to grab what I could.”

“Oh, my phone?” You wonder.

“Yeah, uh, I popped it in there. Wanna go get it?” He looks up at last, his irises almost glazed over.

“No, I don’t need it right now,” you shrug. You don’t have the energy for all that.

“You call your mom?”

He’s such a dad. It almost feels good though. Having someone looking out for you.

“Yeah, she’s... she can’t come,” you bite your lower lip and try not to show your agitation.

“Mm, yeah, I know they weren’t on the best terms,” Andy rasps. “You hungry at all? I walked past the cafeteria. Could at least grab a coffee? Since you don’t drink, I think they have tea?”

You consider him then peek over at your dad. What’s a couple minutes. You’re starting to suffocate in here. You nod. There’s nothing else to do but wait.

Andy gestures you ahead of him and catches up to you outside the room. He guides you to the elevator and takes you a few floors down. He leaves you to sit at a table and heads off in search of food. You cradle your head in your hands as you stare at the scratch surface of the table.

You jolt up as he clatters a tray down across from you. He gives an apologetic smile and dolls out the goods.

“Chamomile,” he places a paper cup in front of you, “tylenol.” He puts the travel tube down, “my head is splitting, how about yours?”

“Uh, yeah,” you take the pills and rattle them before pushing down on the childlock, “actually, it kills.”

You toss back the tablets as he continues to sort out the tray, “jello,” he puts a cup in front of both of you, “turkey club? That’s the special, I guess, and... coleslaw.” He lifts the top slice of bread on his sandwich and curls his lip, “not much colour to it.”

“Food,” you say flatly and blow over the chamomile. “I’m not very hungry but... tired.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, “we’ll get through it. Just need to be patient.”

He sounds sure, but compared to you, anyone sounds like they know what they’re doing. You sip from the tea and trade the cup for a spoon and the container of jello. Grape. You eat it mechanically. It tastes like cough syrup.

Andy takes small, tight bites. Several times you catch him staring. You shift and leave the jello unfinished.

“What?” You ask.

“Nothing,” he says as he swallows, “I just... you okay? Aside from the obvious?”

You frown, “I don’t know.”

“You look... a little... well, I slept like shit too.”

“Oh, hah, yeah, I probably look like crap,” you snort.

“Wouldn’t say that,” he counters. “Just tired. I...” He takes a breath as he measures his thoughts, “you’re a good daughter.”

“Mm, I guess. I don’t know,” you lift the sandwich. The bread is stale. “Always felt like a burden but he did what he could.”

“He’s going to wake up,” Andy promises, “but you can’t take care of him if you don’t care of you. So eat...” he looks down, “I know it’s not gourmet but like you said, it’s food.”

“Step up from one dollar ramen,” you mutter.

You eat all but the dry crust and only have a taste of the tangy coleslaw. You finish the tea before Andy dumps the remnants in the trash and returns, standing with a hand on his hip. You get up and zip the hoodie as you hug yourself. You head back to the elevator, anxious to get back to your dad.

As you enter his room, there’s a nurse by his bed. You see his hand move, the tube tangled at his wrist, and you rush forward. Andy stays by the door as you stop by the bed rail.

“Dad,” you babble, “dad...”

“He’s still a bit groggy,” the nurse says as she holds a styrofoam cup with a straw up to him. Your dad growls and turns his head away, “come on, Douglas, you need to drink.”

“Mm, mm,” he continues to evade the straw. His eyes bulge out as he looks at you.

You lean forward and your heart throbs, “dad?”

“Eh, kiddo,” he gurgles out and smiles, then cringes and falls back.

“Dad!” You exclaim.

“Douglas, come on and drink,” the nurse pleads then glances over at you, “here,” she holds out the cup, “get him to finish that, alright?”

You nod and accept it shakily. You call to your dad again and rub his arm, “hey, dad, you want some water?”

His eyes skim back to you and he squints. He sits up as straight as he can and you put the straw to his lips. He drinks, just a little, and the nurse exhales.

“I’ll be back,” she says before she flits off.

Andy approaches in her absence and you coax your dad to keep drinking.

“Hey, Doug, good to see ya,” he pats your dad’s hand gently, though his voice is barely more discernible than your father’s.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #series #drabble #defending jacob #summer breeze

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pantherxrogers · 1 year

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Dating Luca (The Bear Headcanon)

Content warnings: kinda smutty 18+ only, explicit language, there's fluff too :)

A/N: Idc how much screen time Luca got, he has a whole personality in my head LMAO 😩 I hope you guys enjoy more Luca content! This is super short, but I had so much fun writing it 😄 My requests are wide open, so let me know what you'd like to see next! <3 If you liked this, please like/reblog! It means a lot! 😘

Summary: A short headcanon of what I imagine it'd be like to date our fav pastry chef 🥰

Let’s start with the fluffffff 😊

I feel like most of the reason we all love Luca (aside from the fact that Will Poulter plays him) is that he’s so gentle (but have you guys heard the term Stern Brunch Daddy?)

Let’s say you’re not very good at baking, doesn’t matter because he’s fully committed to teaching you. He will literally start with something as basic as baking a cookie from scratch and later making more complex desserts. It doesn’t even matter how long it takes because he just enjoys being around you :’)

Speaking of spending time together, Luca’s love language is defffff quality time.

When he spoke about learning from the chef who was much better than him (Carmy??) it made me think about how much he would enjoy just being around the person he loves. Whether you’re baking, watching a movie, or even napping together, the pair of you are like magnets.

He shares his love of food with you every chance he gets (he wants to combine two of his greatest loves 😭)

Going out to dinner with a chef is always a unique experience, but no matter what he’s letting you choose the restaurant (if he has to choose he'll just wind up cooking something for you at home since he can make it better anyways)

Thinking about how he’d definitely bake a birthday cake for you, spending hours on it because it needs to be perfect 😪 (he could bake a cake in his sleep but this isn’t just ANY cake)

He asks you to sample everything whenever he's coming up with a new menu item, he trusts your judgement and knows you'll be honest with him

When he’s working late, he tells you not to wait up for him (much to your displeasure) but every morning, you wake up to a new dessert in the fridge 🥺

He’s been doing it since you moved in together just because he knows it makes you smile (he’ll even leave little notes behind, sometimes silly, sometimes super sappy) you eat it up regardless

Now for the smutty stuff 😈

In the beginning of your relationship, Luca is SUUUPER shy. Like to the point that you have to literally spell it out that you want him to make a move.

Like Carmy, he doesn’t really have much time for socializing, so he might miss the cues that you throw at him.

The first time Luca spends the night at your apartment, he’s sure he’s going to pass out on like three different occasions

1. When you open the door, you’re wearing a satin robe that leaves very little to the imagination (He’s hard before he even sits down)

2. You’re baking together in the kitchen, taking every opportunity to bend over and "grab a mixing bowl", flashing your lacy thong in the process.

3. When you move into your bedroom because you’re getting “tired”, you ask him to unhook your bra for you, making a show of sliding the robe down your shoulders. And whoops! It just so happens to fall to the floor. 🤗

By that point, you’re done with the subliminals, pushing your ass back, feeling him straining against his jeans. For a moment, he doesn’t know what to do with his hands (it’d be adorable if you weren’t painfully horny rn)

“Luca, you can touch my boobs if you want to, I swear I won’t mind,” you playfully tease him, shifting into a sigh when his hands immediately connect with your sensitive nipples.

That’s actually how the both of you found out that manhandling is one of the quickest ways to turn you on

Later in your relationship, he makes a show of tapping your ass (when it’s appropriate of course)

He casually shows his strength a lot because he knows it gets you going (thinking of him picking up those packs of flour 😓)

Both of you love the soft moments too. He’s a passionate lover, so slow, gentle sex is always amazing

Back to our regularly scheduled, fluffy programming 😋

Overall, I see Luca as a sweet, loyal boyfriend. The way he spoke about the chef he shadowed (again, do we think it was Carmy??) it seems like he really values the close relationships in his life

Of course, he values his relationship with you the most, always wanting to be the best version of himself for you (and vice versa) 🥰

Taglist (please let me know if you want to be added/removed):

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notmyneighbor · 2 months

Text

instinct | doppel francis x female reader

rating | explicit

part 3/?

words | 4.8k

cw | explicit sexual content, light breathplay, breeding kink

ao3 link

fanart credit | kri_stasss on X

taglist | @maskedpacific @dreamndestiny @r-o-s-e-0

“We can’t do this.”

The words tear reluctantly from your throat when your mouth is finally granted a reprieve, the doppelganger’s lips now teasing beside your ear.

“Why not?” His voice purrs, punctuating this question by licking a stripe around the thin skin shielding the curve of cartilage.

Fuck. “Because it’s unprofessional, for one thing.” You try to make your voice stern but you notice the distinct waver when his mouth distracts you yet again.

“Given your behavior earlier, I don’t think you entirely understand the meaning of that term.” His teeth clutch your ear lobe, tugging lightly, and your breath escapes in a sharp hiss of sound.

“Are you still giving me shit for that? I said I was sorry.” You’re trying to hold onto your anger from earlier, to regain some sense of control and composure. But it’s becoming more and more obvious the cause is lost. His hand clutches your hip, his pelvis grinding against your body and your brain short circuits over the next lined up protest once again.

“And I said I didn’t believe you. I still don’t,” he reprimands, rolling his hips so the bulge at the front of his suit pants nudges your groin.

“What’s it gonna take to convince you, then?” Your fingers have mussed the mimic’s hair completely, finally abandoning that zone to move further down, nails scrabbling against your partner’s shirtfront.

“You could start by inviting me in properly. Bring this somewhere more comfortable. Unless you want me to fuck you up against the door. That’s also an option,” he murmurs, his tongue stroking up the arch of your throat.

“Jesus,” you hiss at his brazenness.

“Francis, actually.”

“You’re making jokes now, too?” This comes out almost as a squeak when his hand begins palming one breast through your blouse, his fingers managing to pinch your nipple even through the layers of clothing shielding it.

“Adapting to the situation.”

“You do this with all your police partners?”

He draws back to look at your features, his body suddenly going still. “No. Never. You’re the first. Why?”

You shake your head. “Nothing.”

“You’re jealous,” he decides, nipping at your bottom lip.

“No, I’m not. Why would I be?”

“Defensive, too. You can relax. It’s just us. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. I know you’re a hardass.” Another kiss. “And I know your heart is in the right place. I know I’ve said this before, and you said you agreed, but I can tell you’re not really willing to trust me. You absolutely have got to work with me, not against me. Okay?”

There is nothing mocking in his tone now. The replicant stares at you with those dark eyes housed in bruised looking sockets and you find yourself surrendering a little. “I am trying to do the right thing,” you reply. “You don’t know how difficult it is, being a woman in this field, seen as something lesser just because of your very nature, something you have absolutely no control over…” Your voice trails off as you realize the implications of what you’re saying. “You do understand,” you say softly.

“I do. All too well.”

Your final surrender is issued in a gentle sigh. “You want to come in? Maybe take this somewhere more comfortable?” You echo his words from earlier.

His lips twitch in a smile. “Yes, I would.”

“Okay.”

He steps back to give you room to move. The sudden absence of the warm press of his body makes yours ache with longing already. You lead him to the bedroom, trying to push the rest of the doubts and misgivings from your mind.

Once you’ve reached your destination, you turn to face the milkman’s clone. You rest a palm against his chest, feel the thudding of his heart. Start small, you think. One step at a time. Don’t overthink it. Just do it. Let it happen naturally.

You slide your fingers to the top button of his shirt, unfastening that one and the one below it. Curls of dark hair are faintly visible beneath his now exposed undershirt. You lean forward to kiss his chest through that thin layer of fabric and he hums a little appreciative sigh. His fingers weave through your hair and tip your head back and his mouth captures yours. There is no teasing now. His tongue sets forth to map the interior of that warm, wet opening you offer, starting with the tip and then sliding along either side of the base. Another burst of heat sizzles between your thighs when he reaches for the fly of your pants, unfastening them and jerking them down to your thighs, along with your panties.

“Your scent has been driving me insane. Begging to be bred.” The hand forcefully knots in your hair, tugging your head back further, and you glare at the doppel, challenging him. “The real question is, do you want to be fucked by a man, or do you want me to show you my true potential?”

You refuse to answer, suddenly tight lipped, teeth stubbornly gritted but your nostrils flare, dragging air in sharply at this unexpected opportunity. You’re still struggling over the idea of intimacy with a replicant, who is supposed to be an enemy species, but the seeming wrongness of it excites you. You can feel the slick arousal oozing between your clenched thighs, your body way ahead of your mind.

“I want to devour you,” he says, and you can see the faintest hint of his teeth growing sharper, narrowing into points, the tongue no longer the modest replica of the human he’s impersonating. Devour me? Does he mean…? The clone’s pupils snap from abyssal pools to small specks surrounded by burst vessels. Your pulse ratchets up even further, caution whispering in your thoughts. He’s still dangerous, alliance or not. Each revelation of what truly lies beneath makes you shiver with a combination of fear and anticipation. Your lips part and you gasp when you feel his other hand at your mound, thumb wedging in between your nether lips to press firmly against your swollen, aching clit. A sharp point digs into the pink flesh bordering it, something claw-like that doesn’t penetrate, merely letting you know of its presence.

“Give yourself to me,” he rasps, the hand at your pussy lifting, settling at the neckline of your blouse before dragging down in one swift, sharp motion. The row of buttons surrenders, the threads severed and the plastic pieces scattering to the carpet.

“I didn’t like that shirt anyway.” You try to keep your tone light and playful, but it shakes as much as your body does.

The doppel regards you, the grin of those fangs now wolfish. “Are we cracking jokes now?” His words echo yours earlier. “Or is this merely false bravado? You’re terrified,” he says, the adjective caressed by the thick tongue coiled in his mouth, “but so brave.”

“Just don’t rip my brassiere. It’s one of my favorites.”

“I can see that.” His hand inverts, the backs of his fingers sliding over satin and lace. “Take it off for me. Everything. I want to see you laid bare.”

“You asking or ordering? Because I don’t—”

You’re interrupted by his mouth crushing yours. Oh. This was different. There’s so much of that tongue, now. The texture is smoother, the saliva coating it thicker. It’s more agile, too, no longer restricted by that fragile little tether beneath, free to roam, twisting and stroking your cheeks and palate and tongue before creeping back further and further. Deepthroated. Like choking on dick, only this has so much more mobility. Your gag reflex kicks in and your throat reflexively clutches, trying to expel this intruder but you remain resolute, forcing yourself to relax, to accept this challenge.

He withdraws and you gasp for air. You can feel the spit, some of it yours but most of it his, gushing over your lips and chin and trickling down your neck. “Oh, you’re good, sweetheart. Taking it so well. I’m going to love shoving my cock down there later. More of a challenge, to be certain, but I’m sure you can handle it.” He grabs one of your hands and moves it to the front of his crotch and your eyes widen. He’s not bragging idly. The image of that invading your mouth, your cunt, sends a fresh wave of arousal spilling from your channel. “Don’t make me wait any longer. Let me have you,” he growls.

You fumble with the hooks at the back of your bra, trying to divest yourself of your garments as hurriedly as possible. He still seems so methodical, unfastening the sleeves of his shirt, running down the remaining fastened buttons lining the front—not tearing through his own clothing, you notice—then easing out of his jacket and then finally pulling his undershirt overhead in one smooth motion, reaching overhead between his shoulder blades. You’ve managed to clear everything from your upper body and you sit on the edge of the bed to finish the job he’s already started on your lower half, watching raptly as his leather belt strap is slipped free of the belt buckle, pants and briefs thrust down and fuck, you’d known, you’d felt it in the palm of your hand, but still, the display in front of you was more than a little intimidating. His cock angles up and slightly to the left, leaking red, circumcised; like the original milkman’s, then, you suppose there is not a single detail he’s left imperfected, but that size surely is more of a reflection of his own, making you wonder not for the first time what he really looks like, beneath the handsome human countenance, scaled and monstrous, never meant to be viewed by human eyes.

Once he’s standing naked he finally moves towards you, pushing you back into the bed, your ass skidding along the top sheet, rumpling the material. Your head lands near the pile of pillows at the top, or close enough, anyway. You don’t care about the comfort of those cushions, already distracted by his mouth back on yours.

He doesn’t linger, doesn’t test your reflex this time, instead lapping his way down your body. He teases along your collarbones and slides between your breasts, then over each nipple, the sight of his hand grasping each globe to raise the stiffened centers into his wicked mouth terrifying erotic when you see those dusky claws digging into your flesh. You’re trying to stifle most of your noises of pleasure, mindful of the thin walls and your neighbors, but the doppelganger frowns over this, the tongue that has just painted a line to your umbilicus after outlining several of your ribs pausing.

“Don’t do that. I want to hear you.”

“The neighbors…”

“Fuck the neighbors. I want to hear the pleasure I’m giving you.”

You whimper but nod, neck craning to watch where that mouth is traveling, knowing exactly where its final destination lies. You feel his teeth scrape along one hip and the inside of your thighs that you spread for him, never piercing the skin but leaving red welts behind. Your body tenses in anticipation before he plants a surprisingly gentle kiss at the top of your mound, his eyes locked on your features. You know he’s smiling, even if your view is blocked at this angle. Then his tongue darts out, flicking your bud so sharply it’s like a slap, and you moan, your hips rocketing upward.

Francis’ clone wraps his arms around each leg, keeping you anchored and splayed for him, braced against his face. He sucks and lavs at your clit until you see stars. You could explode right then, but you want to see what else he will do, both fearing and longing for something to fill your aching insides.

You don’t have to wait long for your fantasy to come true. One finger thrusts into you, and you tremble, thinking that sharp tip must surely do damage, but he somehow manages the task, penetrating the muscular tunnel and curling around the spongey, sensitive tissue nestled near the front of your body. You reach for the replicant, your fingers knotting in his hair, grinding yourself against his mouth, against the pair of fingers that now corkscrew and spread and curl inside of you. His tongue joins in, stretching past those digits and exploring even further. It aches in the most delicious way, the feel of that wet, foreign intruder wriggling and stroking, marking the path that his cock will follow later. You can’t hold back any more, climaxing over everything the doppel has thrust inside, your entire body tremoring violently as you cry out and toss your head from side to side. He doesn’t stop, even after you’ve relaxed your grip in his hair and your body has gone limp and soft. The obscene slurping continues, your oversensitized clit twitching as you beg him for mercy.

At last the doppelganger grants you a reprieve, climbing back over your body, his mouth on yours again. You know what you taste like already, having sampled it before during self pleasure sessions, but it’s even stronger tonight, so deeply saturated on the mimic’s lips and tongue and even his chin, he’s drenched in your fluids and saliva and you lap it up greedily.

“You are the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” he murmurs, his breath warm over your lips. “I could eat you out for hours.”

Even as intense as the orgasm you'd just enjoyed had been, you can’t deny there’s a little thrilling heated tingle in your core at this declaration. You have no doubt he could. Would. An entire day and night spent in bed, with him just ravaging your pussy with his mouth.

In a different timeline, of course; you can’t indulge in that idea now. There is still the case to be solved. You may be allowing yourself to be distracted by carnal desires at the moment, but the impending sense of time slipping out of your grasp has not abandoned you.

Francis’ doppel notices the change in your expression, the solemnity washing over your features. “You’re thinking about the case.”

“I can’t help it. I’m sorry.” You thread your fingers through his tousled hair and stroke his cheek. “It doesn’t mean I’m not enjoying this. That I don’t want to continue.”

“I have no intentions of stopping just yet. Not when that delicious pussy is begging for my cock,” he adds, nuzzling the side of your neck. “I’m going to fuck you hard, honey. Going to stretch you and fill you to the brim. You ready for it?”

Your breath shudders. “Yes.”

“Good girl.” Normally you’d balk at praise like that, but coming from his lips it makes you melt. He shifts positions, leaning back onto his knees, looping his hands around your thighs and tugging you closer. His gaze never leaves yours as one hand manipulates his erection up and down your slick sex, paying special attention to your still recovering clit before it presses against your entrance. He pushes, leans, and the air leaves your chest in a rush as he begins penetrating you.

“Oh, fuck,” you curse. Still more than you’d anticipated. Still unprepared for this sensation, even with the use of his tongue and fingers to pave the way. Burning. Speared fleshed stretched taut to accommodate his prick. Like being a virgin all over again, your body violated, reshaped, remade.

Your eyes flutter closed and you bite your bottom lip. He’s barely begun, still easing into you gently. You find yourself conflicted between wanting him to be buried to the hilt in one go, like ripping a bandaid off, and taking his time, letting you get accustomed to his length and girth.

“Look at me,” he says, and your eyes snap back open obediently, watching this creature that is now straddling the line between man and doppelganger, a little of both presented to you. He shoves in a couple of inches and you visibly tense, making him rest a hand along the side of your waist, thumb stroking small circles of encouragement. Despite his promise to fuck you hard, he’s being surprisingly tender and patient.

“Francis,” you whisper, letting your hand slide over his.

He huffs a little sound of pleasure at your caress, body leaning forward, the momentum burying him further inside of you. He lets his weight drop his hips down, his cock now finally sunk fully inside, his face greeting yours with a sloppy kiss.

“Oh, sweet girl. You’re so tight around me. Doing so well taking me.” His pelvis arches and then slams forward, knocking the air free from your chest again. “So brave. Letting me eat you. Letting me fuck you.” Another repeat thrust and withdraw, followed by another, the pauses in between shorter. The introductory period is clearly over. He nips at your shoulder, still not breaking the skin, but you’re beginning to wonder if he won’t do so inadvertently in the throes of passion. How much control did he actually have over his true form?

“Does it feel good?”

“It’s…hnnngh…” You’ve been rendered incapable of proper speech. It aches. Every part of you throbs. Sore, but also pleasurable. When you’ve recovered enough of your senses your body rocks to meet him, driving you further and further away from the discomfort and into something sublime.

“You’re mine, now. I’ll never let another man touch you. Another doppel. No one will ever have this. You’re mine,” he repeats, his voice sultry, lust and pleasure blanketing each word. The mattress creaks, the headboard sent against the wall—there goes my security deposit, you think wryly—and the lewd slap of damp flesh meeting serenades you. You rake a hand down his spine, halting when you reach the slight swell of one buttocks cheek, kneading the flesh. He growls, hips slapping harder, his mouth sucking along your collarbone. You know for certain this will leave a mark, the skin burning when he draws it away from the bone and against his tongue. At least he’s chosen somewhere you can conceal with your clothing.

You’d only intended to rest your hand in a similar location on his body, but the replicant surprises you when he shifts it from the strip of bone connecting his shoulder to the base of his throat, his hand squeezing your fingers, indicating what he wants. You’ve never attempted breathplay; you’ve always been pretty vanilla when it came to sex. But the doppel clearly had all sorts of kinks, and you think this is just one of many on a long list of depravity. Still shy, your first attempt is soft, and he growls disapprovingly, flexing again over your fingers until you comply, pressing against muscle and tendon and cartilage and his eyes roll back.

You can feel him try to swallow, hear the narrow wheeze of air before you relax your grip. He clutches your wrist before you can move it away, that impossibly long tongue stroking against the inside of your wrist. “I want to cum in you.”

You’re not on birth control; don’t even know if pregnancy is a worry with the mimics. Was it biologically possible? You’d just finished your period a few days ago so the chances that you’re ovulating again this soon aren’t likely, but fuck, why is it so stimulating to consider the idea of him filling you up, impregnating you, just imagine the scandal of that, a human and a doppel successfully mating…

“Do it,” you say out loud, granting permission.

“Yeah? You want it, sweetheart? Want me to fill you up, breed you…?”

“Fuck, Francis, yes.”

He hums approvingly, gifting one last kiss to your wrist before pummeling into you with renewed vigor. The dirty talk seems to have reset your release, and you feel another building.

“That’s it, good girl. Cum on my cock.”

“Francis, I’m going to…fuck…” Your back arches and you feel the wave of your orgasm crash against you. Your body spasms, massaging and wringing the prick inside of you and it sends your partner over the edge. He moans—so loud, you love it, never a fan of the quiet ones, but still, the neighbors—and you feel the answering shudder as his body begins pumping ropes of sperm into you. It quickly becomes apparent how much there is, spilling back out as he withdraws, only to replace that sudden vacancy with his fingers again, fucking his cum back inside of you. He presses his thumb hard against your clit and your back arches again, surging violently against him in another wave of bliss.

You’re both panting when he finally removes his hand from your body, slumping beside you. You stare at the ceiling, wiping absently at the perspiration that dots your forehead. The air smells like sweat, like sex, a nearly palpable humid layer of fragrance.

“Fuck,” you mutter. “God damn.”

“I take that to mean you enjoyed it.” You let your head tip to regard the replicant. His features are completely human again. Normal eyes now, pupils blown, bordered with clear white. His teeth flat edged again, revealed in the little half grin he offers you.

“Fucking hell. As if you couldn’t tell.”

“Hmmm.” He reaches for one of your hands. The claws have vanished. “I was fairly impressive, wasn’t I?”

You gape at him, noticing the little smirk that’s developing anew, and you release his hand to shove at his shoulder, rolling over until your face hovers near his. “You…”

“Me…what?”

“Yeah, it was great.”

“Thought so.”

“Proud asshole. I’m going to have trouble walking.”

“Good.”

You playfully slap him again, fingers colliding with one pectoral muscle before you gentle that touch, guiding it up to his jaw.

He covers your hand with his, regarding you with those sleepy eyes, and you feel something lurch in your chest.

“Francis…”

“You know we’d get more accomplished if we got an earlier start in the morning. If I spent the night it would save us some valuable time.”

“You’re inviting yourself to sleep here?”

“No. I’m asking you.”

“We wouldn’t sleep. Then we’d be too tired to wake up in the morning, undermining the entire process.”

“I’ll behave,” he promises with a soft smile. “I won’t even lay a hand on you. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“You’ll do no such thing. If you’re staying here, you’re going to be in my bed.” You sigh. “You really think you’ll sleep?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think I will,” you concede.

“Am I that irresistible, then? This doppel that you claimed to hate?”

“I told you, I don’t hate you. I didn’t mean it.”

He nods. “Don’t say it again. I don’t like you lying to me.” His eyes flash and his grip on your hand tightens. “I did mean what I said before. You’re mine, now. I won’t let anyone else have you. You understand?”

A little nervous flutter makes your stomach quiver as you nod.

“Say it.”

“I’m…I’m yours now.”

“Good girl.” He relaxes his grip and lets his head loll back to the center.

You’re still not sure how you feel about this new habit of praise he’s adopted. During intimacy was one thing, but outside of it? Your natural instinct to dominate was bristling right now, objecting to being quashed down.

”I can hear those mental gears turning from here. You practically have steam coming out of your ears,” he teases, his eyes on your face once again. “Come on, out with it then.”

”It’s…I’m not sure how I feel about this ‘good girl’ stuff.”

”Ah. I thought it might be that. I think you secretly enjoy it. I wouldn’t do it out in public, of course. That’s just between us in private like this. And no, it doesn’t mean that I think I’m superior to you. You don’t need to feel threatened. It’s more like…affectionate, I suppose. Like a pet name.”

”I guess.” You mull this over. “I don’t know what to call you, though. Like I can’t see calling you babe or honey or…I don’t know. I don’t know why I’m so focused on this. It’s foolish, really.”

”I like when you call me Francis,” he says quietly.

”But that’s not really who you are,” you murmur.

”It’s who I am now.”

You swallow thickly, nodding. “Okay, Francis.”

The doppel heaves a contented sigh and stretches his arms. “Well, now that that’s been addressed, we should have dinner and discuss strategy for tomorrow. What do you think?”

“Yes. I’m starving,” you admit. You always got ravenous after a really good climax. “What did you have in mind? I picked last time, so I guess it’s your decision to make now.”

“How about pizza?

“Oh, that sounds good. With extra cheese. You don’t like gross toppings like anchovies, do you?”

“Don’t know. I’ve never tried them. We can get whatever you want.”

“Alright. The place on West Ninth delivers now, I’ve heard. We don’t even have to leave the apartment. We can have them bring soda, too.”

“Convenient.” His face turns to you again. “Do we have time for a shower, first?”

“Yeah, I think we can squeak that in after we order. But we’re just bathing,” you remind him. “No funny business.”

He adopts a mock hurt tone. “You really have no faith in me. I can be a gentleman when it’s required.”

“I think I like it better when you’re not,” you murmur, leaning over to place a kiss on his shoulder.

“Now see that is exactly what got you into this mess in the first place. Tempting me. Challenging me. Wasn’t it nice just to let yourself go for once? Let someone else be in charge?”

“Careful. That sounds awfully similar to the toxic masculinity bullshit I keep encountering at work.”

“Nothing like it.” He shifts positions, moving until you’re beneath him again, his hands lightly bracing your wrists. “I know what you need. Let me give it to you. It’s not about your career. It doesn’t extend beyond these walls. It’s just for us. It’s okay to surrender, sometimes.”

“When do I get my turn to be on top?”

He smirks. “Whenever you want, sweetheart. I’m more than happy to oblige. You can ride me—”

“—That’s not what I meant,” you interrupt hastily. “It can’t always be you being so possessive and domineering. It’s only fair that I have a chance to exert some of that, too.”

His features grown solemn. “I know. There are so many things we can explore together. So much pleasure we can share,” he murmurs, abandoning one wrist so he can graze his fingertips along your bruised collarbone, then stroking along the notch at the base of his own throat. “It’s not completely black and white, not all one way or the other. Compromises must be met. Here. Even back out there,” he nods towards an imaginary target to indicate the world beyond your residence. “I think you’ll find that if you loosen the reins a bit, people will be more cooperative with you. You won’t lose respect. You won’t be looked down upon. You’ll just level some of the imbalances out. I know your past experiences have colored your outlook. I know it’s hard to let those walls you’ve built up around you lower. I’m not asking you to destroy them completely. Just let people see what’s behind those boundaries sometimes.” He kisses your mouth gently.

“What happens to us when the case is closed and we’re not working together anymore?”

“We might be asked to team up again. But even if we aren’t, this doesn’t have to end. There can still be an ‘us’,” he says.

“I’m a little overwhelmed here,” you confess.

He nods. “Frightened?”

“Yes, that too.”

“Do you think I’ll harm you?”

“Not intentionally. Maybe not even physically by mistake. But in other ways…I don’t want to get hurt again. There’s a reason I’m single. Why I’m so defensive. A hardass, like you say. The reason I have those walls you described in place. It isn’t just about my career, about being a woman in a man’s world. I don’t want to ever let anyone hurt me like that again,” you finish in a whisper.

“I have no desire to see you hurt that way, either.” He combs his fingers through your hair.

“It’s a bad idea, Francis. Not just the sex. Being…emotionally involved. It compromises judgment. It can be costly at precisely the wrong moment.”

“I’m fully committed to this case. You know that. You are, too. I don’t see it as an issue.”

“But what if something happens? What if the suspect threatens me? Will you be able to stay calm? Not do anything brash?”

Francis’ clone remains silent, his lips pressing into a thin line at the thought of that scenario, his hand stilling, buried in your scalp.

“That’s what I’m talking about. The more time we spend together like this, the harder it’s going to get.”

“I won’t fail. Not the case. Not you,” he adds, caressing your cheek. “You have my word.”

#francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #thats not my neighbor #francis mosses #that’s not my neighbor #milkman x reader #milkman x you #the milkman #tnmn francis mosses #doppel francis #tnmn smut #francis tnmn #francis mosses tnmn #doppelganger francis mosses

173 notes · View notes

ashtheketchum · 3 months

Text

●Old times●

Daryl Dixon X fem.Reader

Era: Alexandria (S5)

Summary: The group came to Alexandria and everyone is looking to find a "job" to help this small town. Daryl is very suspicious of this city, but when he sees his neighbor, he no longer wastes any thought about this city.

Warnings: +18 CONTENT, FEM.Reader, unprotected sex, virgin Daryl, virgin Reader, missionary, mention of sickness, mention of violence, angst

Words: 5,4k

Masterlist!

______________________________________

PoV (Y/N):

Deanna had told us that Aaron had found Rick's group. Alexandria had heard a lot of this Rick and Deanna absolutely wanted this group with us. To be honest, I had a strange feeling that this group would come to us, but then I felt a little fear in me when I learned that this group would sleep next to my house. But I forced myself to smile so that I wouldn't look rude. I was not rude, I was just careful, everything was possible in this world.

When Deanna made a welcome party, I forced myself there for a few minutes because Nicholas had invited me. Everyone was known to everyone, including me. He wanted to talk to me all the time, told me about his runs outside of the walls, and he always invited me to eat. I had nothing against Nicholas, he was nice, polite and also respected my limits, but I didn't wanted to be in a relationship with him. My last relationship, which was before the apocalypse started, didn't ended so well. I had loved my boyfriend at this time, but now I didn't even know if he was still alive. Deep inside I knew that he would still live, but the fear that he was one of these undead was too big.

At the welcome party I stayed on the edge most of the time, but of course Nicholas stayed with me. He kept talking to me and drank out of his glass, but I was somewhere else with my head. Whenever we got new residents, I had hopes to see my boyfriend at the time. We didn´t broke up in good terms, but I loved him. God, okay, I still love him today. "Nicholas… I think i should go home… I don´t feel good." I said softly which made him twitch. He looked at me disappointed briefly, but before he nodded and brought me to the door. "I´ll Bring You Home." Actually, I wanted to be alone, but I let it endure.

So I just nodded politely and we went out. Outside, the pleasant night air bumped into my face and the sky was already black. Fortunately, the path was not so long to my house, so we arrived very quickly and I opened my door. Smiling I turned to Nicholas again, who grinned at me but in a politely manner. "Thank you, Nicholas… have a good night." "Can´t I… come in with you?" A slight panic built up in me, but I immediately thought of an idea of how I could get it to go. Immediately I hit my hand on my mouth and I gave loud choking noises from me. I quickly shook my head and I hit the door shut in front of his nose. Then I breathed deeply behind the door and I slowly sank to the ground.

Hopefully he would not come to me the next morning to ask me how I feel.

In the next morning I baked a few cookies that I had always baked cookies the apocolypse. Each of my contacts had always got these cookies and now here in Alexandria it was no different. I always baked these cookies and since I now had new neighbors, I also wanted to give them some of my cookies. Even if this group sounded terrifying, I wanted to leave a good impression, so I did so.

I had placed the freshly baked cookies on my open window so that they could cool down a little. While the cookies cooled down, I showered quickly and put on fresh clothes. As soon as my hair was dry, I put the cookies in a bowl and I went outside, to my new neighbors. However, it was already a little later, most of them were probably at Deanne and talked to her about new jobs. But I tried my luck and knocked on the door. In short it was quiet, I heard no voices and no steps. Just when I wanted to go back to my house, I heard steps that approached the door, in the next moment the door was open.

"Yah?" A rough voice replied to me. I winced briefly because I was startled, but then I looked at the strange man. He had long hair that slightly covered his blue eyes and he had broad shoulders. I stayed still, my heart stopped and my throat became completely dry. Daryl stood in front of me. Daryl Dixon.

PoV Daryl:

I looked at the woman silently, in her hands she held a bowl of cookies. She seemed to be a little frightened to see me, but when I looked into the bowl, I got a little dizzy. "Daryl…?" Whispered the woman quietly. Her voice let my heart beat faster and I swallowed hard. I thought she had died that she was one of the walkers. But she stood here, unharmed, as beautiful as always. "I-i'm sorry…" She stuttered loudly before putting the bowl on the floor and walking away. I stayed still, watched her disappear into the house next door. Then my gaze went back to the cookies.

These goddamned cookies would have made me throw up before the apocolypse, and I would´ve never thought that I would miss this cookies. But now I stood here, raised the bowl and took a cookie to bit into it. The taste came over me immediately and I grumbled quietly. "Daryl, who was here?" I heard someone ask.

I immediately turned and I looked at Carol. She was the next one going to Deanne and experiencing her new job. Her gaze went to the cookies, then back to me. Her gaze already asked me who I got the cookies from and I was afraid that I had to tell her.

PoV (Y/N):

I lay in my bed and stared at the ceiling. Daryl still lived, I just couldn't believe it. I was so incredibly very happy, but inside I was also afraid. Not from him, I was never afraid of Daryl, but of what was now between us.

I had a violent argument with Daryl. We cried out, insulted each other or broke anything. We had never argued so hard, and I couldn't even remember what we had argued about. But this was also the day when Daryl had completely shocked me. He had given me a slap in the face because I had insulted his brother and him. Somehow it was my fault, I knew that Daryl was looking up at his brother, but I was angry. It just bursted out of me. After this slap I packed my things and I disappeared.

Although it was my apartment, I grabbed my things and disappeared to my best friend. The next day everything started.

Walkers were running around, they bit everyone and spreaded their virus. I only survived because my best friend had sacrificed herself/himself. I fled to the forests in the hope of finding Daryl and seeing if he would be fine, but his house was empty. I ran around panicked until I was taken up by a small group at some point. But this group was also wiped out and I was again the only one who survived. At some point I met Aaron, who brought me to Alexandria. Since then I have lived a good life and I was able to take a deep breath. But Daryl never left my head.

And now? Now he´s my fucking neighbour!

I stayed at home all day long. Nicholas came by briefly to bring me a warm soup because of yesterday. Somehow I was grateful to him because I really didn't feel well, but it wasn't a stomach ache. It was a dirty pressure that lived in my chest since I had Daryl in front of me again. So while I played with the soup with my spoon, I suddenly heard that it knocked on my door again. Inside, I prepared myself to be awarded by Nicholas again, but when I opened the door, Daryl stood in front of me.

He looked nervous to the ground, an squirrel in his hand. "I… Brough´ ya food…" He murmured softly and he held my squirrel. Others would have been disgusted or had declared Daryl as a crazy person, but my heart made a jump and my cheeks became red. "… Thanks…" I gently took the dead squirrel from him before I stepped a little to the side. "Do you wanna come in?" Daryl just nodded, to my question and then came in.

It was still an unpleasant silence between us, but I tried to loosen this tension a bit by cooking us some tea and helping daryl to skin the squirrel. It was almost like back then before the world went to shit. We didn't speak much either, only exchanged a few words or I gave him a short smile. When we were finished, we put the squirrel in a pan and made it ready for dinner. "Yar cookies ´re still good…" He suddenly murmured. I turned to him frightened before I smiled shyly and looked down. "Thanks…"

Our atmosphere became a little more relaxed and I was able to talk to him more and more. When we sat down at the table, we ate together and we continued to talk. "… i´ve been lookin´ for ya…" He said suddenly. His eyes went down, so his long hair now covered his eyes even more. I remained silent and I realized that my feelings for Daryl were never really gone. He had searched for me. I would like to know how many nights he was awake and had thought of me? How bad did he felt that he had hit me before all this started? "Daryl… I'm sorry…" "Don´ apologize…" He shook his head lightly, but he still looked down.

Slowly I got up and I went up to him to let my fingers drive through his long hair. Daryl never shrugged when I touched it. He leaned closer and closer to my touches, just like now. He sighed softly before he wrapped his arms around me and buried his face between my breasts. "´though´ ya were dead…" His voice broke my heart, I would´ve never thought that it would break him so much. "But i´m here now… with you…" My words brought him to nod and I smiled slightly.

While my fingers played with his hair, Daryl gently caressed my back. His hands always went to my lower back, never to my ass. We were never really intimate, Daryl had never felt ready because of his body, and I didn't wanted to stress him either. Just like now. We stayed in this position for a while, Daryl had still wrapped his arms tightly around me while I continued to run my hair through his long, brown strands. It was a little unusual to see him with long hair, but he looked really good with them. Daryl only went back to his house when the sun was down.

We stopped on my doorstep and I looked nervous and unsure at him. How should we say goodbye? With a kiss? With a hug? Wave? Were we even still a couple? Too many questions went through my head, but I was thrown back hard into reality when Daryl kissed my forehead. "See´ya…" And with these words he went to his house.

Only when he closed the front door did I go back into my house and I gently put my finger on my forehead. My skin tingled and I felt my cheeks getting warmer. Before the world went to shit, Daryl had always kissed me on the forehead before going away. It was something like a silent promise that he would come back again and again. I could only think of Daryl all night long, but this time in a good way. I knew he was safe, slept next to my house and probably also thought of me. Although it always annoyed me in our old times, I sometimes missed his quiet snoring. But the funny fact about this was, that he only snored when I slept next to him. How can someone who is as quiet as a hunter at the same time be so loud?

I thought of old times all nights and days that I had with Daryl. At this time I found them cheesy or strange, but today I just thought they were great.

When I once asked him to buy something, he brought two squirrels and three fishes back, which he had hunted by himself. I was startled and asked him why he didn't just went to the supermarket which was maybe just 10 minutes away from us. "Don´ need tha´ shit…" Was his only answer to my question. I found it incredibly weird back then, but today I had to grin because of this. I wondered how he would have reacted if I had praised him?

On my birthday he was camping with me and we had to go back home because it had stormed unexpectedly. After that we both were sick and I was incredibly annoyed, but now I had to laugh and think about how lovingly Daryl had taken care of me, even though he was also very sick. Or when we had argued and he ran away. At first I thought that he would never come back, but on the same day there was a huge bouquet on my doorstep with a little note on it which says "´ sorry.". The next day, Daryl knocked on my door and apologized in person then.

When we were together for three years, Daryl had my initials tattooed on his wrist. I found it incredibly cute and I kept stroking the ink when we cuddled or when I was nervous. Sometimes I also caught daryl how he himself stroked these letters when he was nervous. We had experienced a lot together and I hoped that we could continue to do so.

The next day I met with a few neighbors, we always met once a week and we talked about everything. To do this, we sit on my terrace because it had a bank and a Hollywood swing. I had brought us all something refreshing to drink and we talked for a while.

When I was entertained, I saw from the corner of the eye that Daryl went out of the house to get to Deanne's house, he would probably find out his job today. He passed my house and nodded to me briefly, I could see a small smile on his lips. This little smile made my heart beat faster and faster because I knew exactly that he only gave me this smile. "(Y/N)? Helloooo?" One of my neighbors waved in front of my face, which made me flinch. I looked around a bit, my neighbors looked at me confused and worried. My cheeks became bright red when I realized that I had stared at Daryl all the time. "S-sorry… I what just…" "What that one of the new group?" Now my neighbors looked at me even more confused, but a few seemed to understand it and they grinned broadly. "You like him? Why him? He is the weirdest one of all them. " "He's not weird…! He's just… special… I guess." The grin, on my neighbors lips got wider and my cheeks became even more red now. "Don´t look at me like that…" I murmured softly, but that only brought them to laugh loudly.

"Oh my God! I would´ve never thought he's your type! Is it because of his muscles? " "He smiled at you! Maybe he likes you too! " "Do you still have some sexy underwear?" They overwhelmed me with questions and I was slowly becoming dizzy. I hadn't told anyone in Alexandria about Daryl and me. Accordingly, nobody knew that we were together. Or still somehow are…? I don´t know it. "Guys, guys… Let her breathe." The oldest neighbor in our group said then.

I gratefully smiled at her before I cleared my throat and adjusted my clothes, although there was nothing to do with them. I breathed deeply before I tried to somehow avoid. "We knew each other… Before the apocolypse … Nothing more." It wasn't really a lie tho. My neighbors stayed still briefly before they grinned even more and nodded. Fortunately, they no longer asked. When it was evening, I was about to go to bed when someone knocked on my door.

I saw confused at the clock, which showed me that it was 11 p.m. So I took my morning mantle even more confused and I wrapped it around my body so that nobody could see my pajamas. I could never wear anything with long sleeves while sleeping, it had to be a shirt or top and a shorts. And since I didn't want anyone to see me in top and shorts, I wrapped the morning mantle around me. Slowly I went to the door and I opened it quietly. "Daryl?" I saw confused to the archer, which only looked shy at me. In his hand he held a white rose while holding his crossbow with the other. "What are you doing here so late?" "´Was outside… can I uh… Come in…?" His question let me stall a little, but I nodded slightly and let him in.

Daryl putted down his crossbow and pulled out the shoes before I took the rose and put it in a small vase. As I put the vase on the window, Daryl hugged me from behind, his strong arms wrapped around my hip. My breath caught briefly before I looked back at him. "Daryl…? Are you okay …?" "´M sorry…" He wanted to withdraw, but I grabbed his hand and leaned more into his hug. Daryl swallowed audibly, which made me chuckle in my head. Then the archer turned me around and buried his face into my neck. Slowly I wrapped my arms around his neck to pull him closer to me.

"Do you wanna sleep here tonight?" I whispered softly as I played with his hair again. I liked his long hair, I liked it very much. Daryl hummed deeply before he nodded slightly and raised his head to look at me. With my fingers I stroked his strands of hair away from his forehead, so I had a better look at his eyes. His blue eyes sparkled slightly because of the moonlight, which seemed through my window. I smiled at him gently before we went up. We closed my bedroom door before I pulled out my morning mantle and put it on my chair. When I looked at Daryl, I watched him taking off his vest and shirt.

That was another thing I loved about Daryl. No matter how free I walked around, he remained respectful and sometimes even looked away. Sadly I´m the one who stares at the other one. Daryl looked so incredibly good, his broad shoulders, his strong chest, which is equipped with a few hairs, his narrow but stable hip and his strong arms. God, his arms, I had loved the most how they could lift me up with ease and kept me close to him. I loved them and Daryl knew that too. But when my eyes went to his back, my expression became sad briefly. His scars were terrible, a constant memory of his violent father, but I kept showing him that his scars never deterred me. I kissed every of them gently, stroked his back and also massage it.

There were also scars on his chest, much more than before the apocalypse. Probably he had received them through surviving and the fights. "´re ya still starin´ at an old men like me?" He suddenly teased me. My cheeks became bright red before I looked away and giggled softly. Slowly I went towards him and I put my hand over one of his scars, on his chest. "We're the same age, Daryl …" "´m a few years older, woman …" "Only three …" Daryl snorted briefly before I shaked my head.

I licked my lower lip uncertainly before I felt his rough hand on my cheek. We came closer and closer until our lips nestled together. A sigh escaped my lips, just like Daryls, while we moved our lips rhythmically against each other. We closed our eyes while we slowly climbed into bed. Daryl put his hand gently to my side to pull me closer to him. I carefully stroked his cheek, his beard stubble tickled my skin lightly. Breathing hard we loosened from each other and we looked deep into the eyes from the other.

I saw something in Daryl´s eyes that I had never really seen in them. Hunger, lust and pure love. I always saw love in his eyes when he looked at me, but hunger and lust were new. I continued to stroke his cheek, swallowing, the redneck remained calm while he pulls me on his lap. "Do you wanna do this …?" I then asked softly. Daryl only grumbled quietly before he nodded slightly and took my hand to kiss my wrist. He kept the intensive eye contact with me. "Yeh … ´ wanna show ya how much I missed ya …" He then murmured softly against my skin.

His words gave me a light goose bumps and I nodded slightly. Daryl sat up and gently removed my top, so I could let it fall next to the bed. He looked at my bare breasts briefly before looking at my shoulders. He gently put his hands on my sides and he started kissing my shoulder. Panting, I closed my eyes and I put my hands over his back. I gently stroked his scars, which let him breathe in trembling.

He carefully grabbed my breasts and gently massaged them. His touch let me gasp loud because of the mix, his rough skin and his gentle touch, let me moan loudly. Daryl massaged my breasts for a while as he stirred my neck and shoulders with kisses before having his hands drive to my shorts. He stopped briefly. "You can continue, Daryl…" I whispered softly and lifted my pelvis slightly so that it was easier to take them off. The archer grumbled briefly before pulling down my shorts and my panties. When he threw both out of bed, his gaze immediately went to my cunt. "Yar so beautiful …" He murmured softly before he gently pushed me in bed.

I automatically spread my legs so that he could lie between them. Under his pants I could already see his bulge, which twitched from time to time. I looked up at him with bright red cheeks, but Daryl looked at my body very well as if he hadn't seen it for years. Well, he hasn´t seen my body in years. "Daryl …" "Hm?" Only slightly present he answered me, he put his hands on my sides. "I love you … I never stopped …" Then I whispered softly.

The archer immediately flinched, his eyes sparkled briefly before leaning forward to me, with his arms he supported himself. He pressed a loving kiss on my lips as he gently rubbed his pelvis against mine. The fabric, of his jeans, rubbed against my clitoris and I could now feel his hard cock even more. I gently grabbed into his strong arms as I felt that I was getting wetter. Daryl rubbed against me ever tighter, his cold stimulus lock sometimes gave me a cold shiver. "Ah ~…! D-Daryl ~… " I gasped softly and closed my eyes. Daryl just growled softly, but his eyes were very careful. He wanted to see how I felt while he rolled his hips faster and faster against mine. "Ya wan´ more ~?" His voice was rough and they gave me a pleasant shiver.

My nipples got hard and they rubbed his chest slightly. I quickly nodded before I opened my eyes and looked in his eyes. "Yes, please~… Daryl~… i´ve waited so long for this… for us~…" My words let his cock, in his pants, twitch and he growled loudly. Slowly he moved his hips away and he sat up to pull his jeans down. But to his cock tho, I was able to see a huge, wet stain, which immediately let me blush. Daryl hadn't rubbey against me too long and I was already so wet.

Daryl seemed to understand my redness because he grinned briefly before he pulled his underwear down to his knees, and looked up to me. "It's okay … Don´ be emberrassed …" His voice was so gentle and so rough at the same time. I had to gasp loud and I nodded slightly. Daryl supported himself again, with his arms, his lips landed on my cleavage, which he covered with mouth-opened kisses. He went deeper and deeper until his lips closed around my nipple and he sucked gently on it. He twirled the other nipple with his fingers, which made me a whine.

I automatically moved my hips back and forth, hoping to get some friction, but I didn't get anything. Only my breasts got his attention. Daryl covered my chest with smooch stains and sucked greedily on my nipple before he went to the other breast and gave her the same treatment. "Daryl~ … please~ …" I felt that my abdomen contracted, with excitement and my clitoris pulsed even more.

Although he barely touched me, the tears came out of my eyes because of the excitement and I breathed faster and faster. Daryl seemed to feel my excitement because he kissed up to my face again until he gently kissed my lips. "Greedy woman, ha~?" I had to giggle softly, but I nodded slightly. I was really greedy. Greedy for him, after the man that I had loved for over 5 years now. And now I would get this man completely. I could hardly wait, but could you blame me? "It's okay…" And with these words I heard how he positioned himself on my pussy. I looked down between the two of us, to his cock. A few drops of pre-cum was on his tio and they slowly ran down his shaft. Daryl rubbed his shaft between my folds and he moved his hips forth and back. Moaning quietly, I bit my lower lip, my grip around his arms, became a little firmer. "Can I get in~?" "Yes, Daryl~ … Please…" I lay on my back relaxed, in the bed and I looked up at him.

The archer supported himself again, but this time only with one arm. He positioned himself at my entrance with his other hand before he slowly pushed into me. Moaning I closed my eyes, while Daryl now supported himself with both arms now and also closed my eyes. The archer breathed heavily and quickly, while my inner walls sucked his shaft deeper and closely pulled together around him. A strong pain passed through me briefly before this pain turned into lust. When I opened my eyes again, I looked up. Daryl had buried his face into my neck, but I felt his rapid breath and his quick heartbeat while his cock pulsed hard into me. I felt full, but in the good way.

My senses were foggy and I gently caressed his back. I gently stroked his back to show him that he should take time. My gentle touch made him tremble briefly before he raised his head and looked deep into my eyes. His blue eyes looked at me lustfully, his cheeks were red and a few of his strands of hair hung in front of his face. I gently stroked this path and I kissed Daryl gently. "You can move…" I whispered against his lips. Daryl just growled softly before he started moving slowly. He slowly pulled himself out of me, only to sink back into me immediately afterwards. A loud sigh escaped me and I closed my eyes again. “Nah… look in my eyes” I heard the archer moaning quietly.

I immediately listened to him and opened my eyes again. We looked deep into each other's eyes as Daryl kept bumping his hip against mine. I wrapped my legs around his waist to draw him even closer to me. Daryl was still leaning his arms beside my head, his strong arms always tense slightly as he sank deep into me. “I love ya…” Daryl grumbled softly, his voice giving me a pleasant shiver. “I love you too…” After I moaned this, Daryl moved faster.

Our skin slapped louder and louder, and my voice grew louder and louder. I found it increasingly difficult to keep my eyes open, so I closed them slowly. I felt Daryl lean his forehead against mine, and his voice also grew a little louder. My hands went from his back to his arms, into which I pressed my fingernails. The bed between us squeaked loudly and I kept moaning his name as if he were a god. My legs, around his waist, were getting tighter and tighter around his hip, so Daryl couldn't stretch out very far. His strokes were getting faster and shorter, which took my breath away. “G-god, Daryl!” My voice grew louder and my chest raised and lowered faster and faster.

Daryl growled loudly before he started kissing my neck. He gently bit into my skin, which again took my breath away. Although my eyes were closed, they rolled backwards. All I could hear in my room was the sound of our voices and our skin slapping together. Every now and then I would let out a whimper and Daryl a loud growl. Daryl gently bit my throat, which made me gasp loudly. I stretched my back and pressed my breasts against his chest. “D-daryl, fuck!” "Mnhrr… (Y/N)…" Hearing his deep growl, so close to one ear, made me tremble, and I whimpered louder and louder.

I got goosebumps while Daryl raised his head again and looked at my face. I felt his gaze on me, even though my eyes were closed, but I could not open them either, it was almost as if he had enchanted me. Perhaps he had even done so. The next moment Daryl sat up, his hands now gently grasping my hip. Confused, I opened my eyes before tearing them wide open and screaming loudly. Daryl's grip around my hip became firmer and he rammed himself harder into me. I firmly reached into my duvet, tears ran down my face and I curled my toes. “D-daryl…! Oh my god! I’m gonna cum!” I screamed loudly as I stretched my back.

Daryl's tip kept bumping against the magic point of mine that made me see stars. I was so excited, I still "cried" because of the arousal which was getting too much for me to handle. Daryl also grew a little louder, his cock was twitching more and more inside me, that means that he´s also about to cum. As my orgasm rolled over me, I moaned Daryl's name out loud, my pussy tightened tightly around his shaft and sucked even more greedily on him.

The archer gasped in shock before also moaning my name out loud and cuming at me. I felt his hot seeds flow into me. Breathing heavily, Daryl let me go and he pulled himself out of me while I tried to calm myself down. The archer fell into the bed next to me and he sighed loudly into my pillow, making me giggle. “That was good…” I whispered quietly.

Daryl grumbled approvingly before placing his arm on my stomach and pulling me closer to him. Giggling, I kissed his temples while straightening his boxer shorts and then snuggled up to him. “Were ya a virgin?” He asked me suddenly, his voice still muffled by the pillow. His question surprised me a little, but I nodded slightly. “Yeah… were you?” "´f course, woman…" He turned his face to me and looked at me, his eyes tired. Smiling, I kissed him gently before pulling the blanket over us. "I love ya… and 'm sorry for bein´ an asshole..." “It’s okay… you are here now, with me.” We kissed each other again before we both fell asleep. Grinning I fell asleep when I heard his loud snoring again.

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