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#pretty much new appliances
eilidh-eternal · 4 months
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Captain Price smut? Yeahhhh, Captain Price smut.
Real estate agent reader who’s showing John Price flats in London, but the only thing he cares about are all the surfaces he can fuck you on.
18+ MDNI | f!reader | d/s dynamics | praise kink | oral f-receiving | unprotected P i V | creampie |
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“This unit is just under 100 square meters, but it has the open floor plan you requested, and the kitchen has recently been remodeled; all new cabinetry, appliances and gorgeous Calcutta marble countertops. It’s an entertainers dream.”
John won’t be doing much entertaining but he thinks you’re an exquisite show spread out on those countertops you love so much, skirt hiked up around your hips and lacy thong between his teeth as he nips and teases the sensitive juncture of your hip and thigh. The scrape of his beard against your thighs only causes you to spread them wider for him, already burning, and before you can protest—complain that you’d just bought those—he’s tearing the flimsy lace from your body and growling at the sight of your glistening cunt.
“Christ sweetheart, just look at ya. Been drippin’ since we walked through the door.”
The first card of his tongue through your folds is long and languid, and the way he moans at the first taste of you is something purely primal, born of raw desire and burning need. Hands made rough by years of hard work snake beneath your thighs, seeking purchase at your hips to knead at their plush and soft skin. He pins them to the counter when he dips into your entrance and you clench around him, a moan of his own echoing yours, vibrating against the throbbing bundle of nerves pressed against his nose.
You clap a hand over your mouth to muffle what would have been a scream when he takes your puffy clit between his teeth, flicks the tip of his tongue over it until your thighs are quivering against him. You could scream when he pulls away from you, leaves you dangling from that razor thin edge to pull himself up, to brace his arms on either side of your head and pull your hand away from your face.
“No more of that, doll. Need t’ hear ya. Gotta know how thin these walls are. Don’t want any neighbors reporting us for violating the noise ordinance.” With his orders given he returns to his position between your thighs, not wasting a moment as he hooks his arms under you and drags you to the very edge of the counter to throw your legs over his shoulders and continue with his meal.
You grip the edge of the counter with such force you worry it might crack, that it might crumble in your hands just as you are in his. Every searing pass of his tongue, nip of his teeth and bristle of his beard coaxes you back towards that ledge, and every moan and gasp you give him is rewarded with a growl that reverberates from his chest and straight to your clit, sending hot sparks of pleasure licking on your arching spine.
Watching you unravel before him is John’s second favorite part of the tour, tasting your spilled essence as you writhe and clamp your thighs around his head when you cum on his tongue. Second only to the way you feel wrapped around him, the way your brows slope upwards and your mouth makes that perfect little ‘o’ when he sheathes himself to the hilt inside you.
“F-fuck, ‘s too much… I can’t-”
“You can,” he grunts with a pointed thrust, and you whine at the fullness, the stretch of his thick cock and the press of the flared tip against your cervix. “You can take it, honey. Just keep those pretty eyes on me yeah?” You focus on his face, concentrate on the lines between his brows. “Good girl.”
He sets a steady pace, one hand pressing your knee up beside your face and with the other he braces himself on the counter, bent over you to watch your eyes flutter with every drag of his cock in and out of you.
“Fuck sweetheart… ya feel fuckin’ perfect. ‘S like you were made for my cock.” It’s too much, too intense staring up into the swirling depths of ocean blue eyes when he says things like that, and you look away before you drown in them and all of his pretty words.
But John is like a rip tide; calm and collected on the surface, but swift and brutal below. He halts his movements abruptly, grips your face, thumb and forefinger pressing into your cheeks, and forces your gaze back to his. “Did I say you could look away?” A beat of silence and he cocks an impatient brow.
“No…” you squeak.
“What were my instructions?”
“Eyes on you.” It’s less whiny but it still comes out small and breathy.
“That’s right, eyes on me. Gotta be able to see ya so I can take care of ya. Gotta know it feels good, that I’m not hurtin’ ya. Understand?” You nod weakly, but his brows remain furrowed, mouth set in a hard line, and he doesn’t move.
“Y-yes sir.”
“Good girl,” he hums in approval and removes his hand from your face, drags it down the length of your body as his hips begin to roll forward again, following the valley of your breasts down to your navel, your messily bunched up skirt, and presses his thumb to your clit, tracing slow circles around it. It doesn’t take long for him to find his rhythm again, faster this time, each stroke pushing him further and further towards that simmering pool of pleasure as your silken walls begin to flutter around him.
You can feel your own orgasm building, the velvety head of his cock brushing against pleasure centers deep inside of you and his thumb working your clit to fan the flames of your lust and desire into a blazing inferno. Hot tendrils of pleasure lick up your spine, arching you into him and rocking your hips against his as you mewl and whine, desperate for your release and to ease the growing heat within your veins.
“Close… fuck, I’m close-” you can barely manage, and he shushes you sweetly.
“I know sweetheart, can feel ya- fuck… clenching around me,” he says between panting breaths. “Wanna feel ya… milkin’ me. Be a good girl… and cum for me.”
He’s relentless in his mission to see you, to feel you, cumming on his cock, hips slamming into yours at a brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin mingling with each of your breathy moans in the sweetest symphony he’s ever heard. And it’s hard, so, so hard to keep your eyes open, to keep them trained on him when he’s fucking you like a man utterly consumed by the desire to see you shatter beneath him.
You don’t hold back, don’t bother trying to quiet the scream that rips from your throat when he sends you careening over that edge, falling, falling, falling into a warm, blissful oblivion. Every muscle in your abdomen pulls taught, pussy clamping down on him as your orgasm tears through you like a wildfire through a parched forest, and he chases his own release with the same rabid intensity, grunting and panting above you with wild thrusts of his hips. A raging storm of intensity that finally breaks when his balls tighten and he spills inside of you, hips stuttering with a guttural moan that rumbles like thunder in his chest.
You stay like that for a long moment, your arms limp beside you, legs quivering against cool marble with his face tucked into the side of your neck and breathing raggedly. When he finally withdraws you whimper at the loss of him, the absence of his warmth and the fullness he gave now leaves you empty and leaking your combined essence, dripping down your thighs onto the obscenely expensive counter. You open your mouth to say something, try to move back to your feet before you make a further mess, but he silences you with his tongue, lapping at your entrance to taste both of you, and the only sound that comes out is an overstimulated whine.
“I know, I know…” he murmurs into your dripping cunt. “But we’ve gotta get ya cleaned up.”
You. Not the counters—you.
When he finally deems you ‘clean’ enough, he helps you down from the counter, makes sure you’re steady on your feet before you even try putting those ridiculous heels back on. And when you leave he tucks the ruined lace of your underwear into his pocket and guides you out of the flat with a firm hand on the small of your back, all the way to your car, and insists on opening the door for you.
Before you can seat yourself he tightens his hold on you and drops down to place a kiss on your cheek, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers, “I’ll see you next week for that showing, sweetheart. Be good for me until then.”
©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 7 months
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Some Dad!Cod Character Scenario and Appreciation Post
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Characters In Mind: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Alex Keller, König, Keegan P. Russ, Gary "Roach" Sanderson.
The original creator of the picture, they also have so many works that are used in so many fanfics as well so please credit her. I found her account here on Tumblr (@ave661) and here is the post.
AFAB!Reader and used pronouns are "you"
Apologies if this is a bit too short but;
ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ
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A/n: I've had a good but also bad week (good thanks to @puff0o0 and other extremely sweet mutuals), it's neutral, I'm not here to rant of any sort but my personal life has not been good. I understand that not everyone will like me but it feels as though everyone hates me, most of those people happen to be at school. Sure I'm not really going to do anything about it because I prefer avoiding conflict but those same people are trying to flip the story around as if I'm the one who hates them when in reality I don't and by being mean to me they're giving me a reason to dislike them. Sure I'm average academically, sometimes I have difficulty pulling my weight in group works and I'm not outstanding in reportings but we all have our difficulties. I just don't understand people who love to hate on others because they have nothing better to do.
This is a word of advice to everyone, don't let others let you feel insignificant, you aren't and you have many talents that make you different from them. (I don't really practice what I preach because I love self-deprication, however I don't want people to feel the way I do because I know what it can cause)
Disclaimers/warnings: OOC??, Pregnancy, Implied birth, Children (Pretty sure that was obvious from the title), People who don't want/hate children be warned.
Short note: This is also a dedication to all the Mistki and Hozier fans out there <3
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He was so used to the smell of hospitals, the smell of medication, it always indicated death for him but this was a whole new feeling. It was the opposite of what he has seen most of his life
So much so that he refused to hold them, afraid of potentially hurting the fragile little one. He looked at you as if you were crazy when you tried to hand him the baby, "Come on now love, you can't just avoid holding them forever" you said to him as of it was a life or death situation.
Hesitantly letting you guide him through the proper way to hold them, he felt his breath hitch at the sound of cooing. The first time the baby opened it's eyes, the first thing they saw being their dad.
The moment he looked at the baby sealed it, he was going to protect them their whole life, he would go as far as feeling all the guilt of having blood on their hands again if it meant your baby would be protected and cared for.
The baby was so small that it's little head was practically the size of his palm, he didn't know initially what to do when the baby cried and shocked himself when he managed to make them stop.
Once the baby was old enough to crawl, he'd let the baby crawl all over him. The little one babbling non-sense while he just chuckled and replied as if he understood what the baby was saying. Gods be damned if he misses an important milestone such as their first word or their first time walking.
You'd often wake up to seeing him shirtless snoozing on the couch, the tv playing only ads for home appliances late at night while the baby only in a diaper having skin to skin contact with their dad, his huge hand big enough to support the little one from falling.
He almost cried the first time your baby reached for his face an touched it, resting it's tiny little fingers on his cheek, giving him a gummy smile. His little one unaware that they just healed something they never broke.
He NEVER wants to ever see your little one grow up, though sure it makes more memories with them, sometimes they just wish time stops for a second so they can enjoy the moment longer.
Initially was terrified that he'd pass his trauma down but he realized that wouldn't be possible and he will NOT ever let them go through what he did.
Eventually chose to resign from his work because the risk was far too much, what if he died? He'd leave you and your child to grieve over him? He won't be there for them growing up and he'd miss everything.
Sure he's worked most his life to get where he is now but nothing is ever worth more than spending a lifetime with you and your child together. He's been lonely almost all his life until he met you.
You are his family, his everything. He promised that whatever happens, he'll crawl home to you...
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charmercharm3r · 4 months
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doing everything together
BC
Masterlist
wc: ??
warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, bf!chan x afab!reader, porn no plot, shower sex, piv, oral (f receiving), cream pie, he’s so cute i love him
definitely not proofread, entirely self indulgent lol
☆゚
He was very particular about the bathroom. Chan didn't care so much about the house hold appliances when you were looking for apartments together, except for the shower. This was the one area he showed true interest in, so you let him take the reigns entirely when he said he wanted to change the shower head from the original that came with the place.
You didn't know what he had chosen, only that he mentioned how good the water pressure was with the silliest, horniest smirk you'd ever seen.
As soon as the shower head he ordered arrived and he installed it, Chan wasted no time in getting you stripped and soaked. You got lucky that there was a shower bench, which was not what had initially drew you to choosing this apartment, but it was definitely a perk.
Lips everywhere, hands roaming, taking in the warmth of his body and the steaming shower, you couldn't help but giggle at how excited Chan was to show you the reason he chose this specific shower head. You broke away from his eager kisses to glance at where it was mounted, seeing the extra cable connected to a handheld head.
"That seems great for hosing down the walls," you thought for practical uses, not looking any closer and trying to capture his lips once again. Chan redirected your kiss to his cheek and grabbed the handheld.
"Just look," he asked, to which you playfully groaned into his neck before looking. There was an extra hole in the very top and a switch on the side. Chan reached up to the mounted shower and twisted something to turn on the handheld, then made eye contact with you while wiggling his eyebrows. Just as he did, he tipped the handheld towards the ground and flipped the switch. A stronger stream shot out from the top, and it all clicked.
You didn't get a word out before he was kissing you again and blindly leading you to sit on the all-the-more convenient bench. God, you would be dripping if you weren't already wet, Chan sliding to his knees in front of you. Of all things he wanted to be involved in, this was entirely unexpected-- though, not unwelcome whatsoever. He made himself comfortable, thick lips never straying from your skin even whist spreading your knees and fingertips toeing across your thighs.
Just to hurry things along-- you were impatient now that his grand scheme had been revealed-- you scoot forward, pushing your exposed cunt towards him hoping to entice him. Chan laughed into the meaty flesh of your thigh, lightly biting wherever he could and fully appreciating your newfound enthusiasm. Not that you weren't before, just even more now that there was a new and potentially mind-blowing sensation that he could inflict onto you.
He took your hand and let the stream from the handheld hit your palm, asking, "good pressure?"
"If you don't put that between my legs right now--"
"Okay, okay," he giggled again, "needy tonight, hm?"
"Yeah, and it's your fault," you emphasized your point by hooking your knees over his shoulders, locking your ankles behind his head.
"If I had known this is all it would take to have you borderline trying to mesh bodies, I would've upgraded the shower at our old place a long time ago." His hands kneaded at your love handles to displace his own needs for now, too excited to try this almost as much as you were. The sight of his slender, pretty fingers so close to your core was maddening and you failed holding back a slight rut of your hips.
"I would love to live inside you, actually."
"I say the same thing every time I see this pretty pussy of yours, baby." Chan wasted no more time and practically fell into you, first his tongue licking a cautionary stripe up your center, then suctioning his lips around your clit when you involuntarily threaded your fingers through his hair. He moaned into you, vibrations of his constant vocal pleasure making the introductory feeling even better.
This was just a warm up for him, just the prologue to the real fun he'd have when he thought you could handle the lovely pressure of the handheld shower head. Part of you wished he'd give it to you already, but another part never gets tired of how good he is with his mouth. If Chan could, he'd live between your legs and have you for all three meals of the day. And what a blessing those lips are, already having you curling your toes and tugging at his wet curls within the three minutes he'd been on his knees.
Slowly, his fingers tiptoed their way to join his mouth, spreading you wider with two fingers for more access for his lips, then gently moving to circle them around your entrance. Your head fell back against the tiled shower wall, whimpers not ceasing anytime soon.
Just as you were gonna ask him for more, he pulled away, but not without replacing what he'd stole. Chan pushed two fingers into you right when the stream grazed your clit, lightly and calculated as not to do too much. He glared up at you with concern when you slammed your head back against the wall much harder than before, Chan stammered to pull away but backtracked when you cried his name, "don't you fucking dare."
"I do love when you boss me around, darling," he replied, sarcasm dripping from his perfect lips. The teasing came with retaliated pleasure, maneuvering the stream so it hit your clit more straight on. You moaned louder, shuddering and wanting to pull away at how much more intense the feeling was than before. "If you're gonna talk like that to me, then take it like a fucking champ. Don't let me down."
Oh, it was a challenge, now. There was no backing down, you were gonna be fucking good and take whatever he wanted to give just for the sake of being able to rub it in his face later that he couldn't break you. Just don't let him see how badly you wished it was his cock in you instead-- that'd be the real tipping point.
"That's right, baby, I knew you could do it," he praised, mouthing and teething at the flesh of your thigh, slight pinching making the pain mix with the pleasure much, much too well. His fingers started to slowly move, adding the needed friction from within and it had you sob, just once. "Hm, I don't think this is enough."
Oh no, don't say it. "Maybe you need something bigger."
Fuck, he's gonna say it. "Think you can take my cock, too, baby?"
And you're gonna say yes. "Please, yes, please."
Chan pulled the stream for a second to give you a comforting, pillowy soft kiss to your clit and stood. He hung heavy, swaying and glistening and so mouth watering. Somehow, everything was just the right height for him to easily find his reddening tip at your hole and push in. The stretch, a welcome sizzling burn that soon turned into nothing but tingling euphoria, coupled with the returned stimulation of the jet stream, you were floored. It was written all over your face.
He laughed and hid his face in your neck as you adjusted to the all of the new feelings. "God, stop fucking clenching like that," he whined, sending a light slap to the outside of your thigh, which only made you clench harder. He slapped again, a little harder, then groaned when your whole body twitched. "You're killing me here."
"Then make me cum already, unless you wanna die a slow, wonderfully warm and wet death."
"I love when you talk dirty to me."
"Chris, shut up and fuck me."
He shrugged, pecking your lips lovingly and resting his hand on your hip bone to keep the stream pointed just right on your nerves. He knew your body like the back of his hand, knew the spot that made you want to claw out of your skin because the pleasure was too great, and he hit it every time. Only now, he could fuck you at the same time.
And fuck you, he did. He was slow and precise, just as ever, wanting to hit the right spots that caused you to contracted hard and practically milk him, that was his favorite feeling. Getting this little appliance did half the job for him, all he had to do was hold it steady and move his hips.
The sight above you was heavenly, his wet abs right in front of your face while his soaked curls would occasionally drip onto your face and cause you to look up, then be met with his sculpted features. God-- if there is a god-- it could very well look like Chan. The way he looked at you could make you cum by that alone.
It took another four minutes, tops, of him barely rocking into you, tapping at the soft spot within you and keeping the stream satisfying the pulsing along your center. You reached up for his biceps, lightly scratching and pulling him down for a slow, sloppy kiss, mumbling against his lips how close you already were. "Whenever you want, darling," he cooed back, entirely satiated already.
Chan did what he always did when you were close, and that was rapid fire. He quickly shook his wrist to let the stream run over your clit, back and forth, the feeling getting more and more intense every split second it left and returned tenfold. Until you were clawing down his forearm and abdomen, back arching against the tile with a last cry of his name and a string of whimpers.
Another minute passed before the oxygen returned to your brain and you could think clearly again. Chan was looking down at you with his forehead leaning against the tile as well, buried as deep in you as he could go and a silly smile plastered along his lips. Oh, how you loved his lips.
"I think our water bill is gonna be incredibly high," you joked, kissing the darkening red lines along his wrist.
"Just means we'll have to shower together. Y'know, to save water."
"I won't complain about that." Chan's eyes crinkled as he came down to press a kiss to your forehead in return.
"Doing everything with you is the highlight of my day. Even washing your stinky feet," he gently slid out of you and tickled the bottoms of your feet, getting you to kick him away while trying to crawl under the shower again. Chan caught you by the waist and held you from behind, once again hiding in the crook of your neck and simply enjoying having you in his arms.
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tinachristeen · 1 year
Text
Photos of You
Fem!Reader x Subbish!Daryl Dixon
word count: 20,498 (I hope)
NSFW.
Warnings: Explicit, full of horny, Minors DNI. Pillow humping, Sexual photographs, Vaginal sex, Oral sex, Talks of alcohol, vague talks of Daryl's child abuse. That's pretty much it, can't think of any more trigger warnings.
"Hey, look what I found!"
Daryl turned his head away from what he was currently occupied with, a box full of abandoned books in the corner of the room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rick had sent you and Daryl to scavenge for, well, anything useful actually. The children needed new books to read, The pantry could always use more food, And you can never have too many medical supplies in an apocalypse. you and Daryl had thought you hit the jackpot when you came across an old, rather large, thrift shop with enough clothing and books to keep Alexandria stocked for a while. Daryl even found a recliner he seemed to like. Unfortunately, the universe has decided to make your lives a billion times more difficult ( as usual) by sending a decent-sized herd in your direction. you both made it out fine, with only a few bruises and at least 50 of the undead bastards still on your tail, so you both decided to look for a place to wait them out until morning. and like a beacon of light shining in the cold, damp night air, you both stumbled across a dilapidated shack with a set of metal doors protruding from the ground beside it. thinking it was your best chance at a safe shelter for the night, Daryl quietly opened the doors and moved down the stairs to scan the room for potential threats. Once he gave the all-clear, you shut the doors tightly and not even five minutes later, heard the shifting and shambling of the rotting undead above your heads.
turning on your flashlight, you scanned the room to take in your surroundings. it looked to be a makeshift bunker of some kind. It was pretty large, walls made from some kind of metal. In the left corner of the room, there was a bunk bed with gray sheets, colorful quilts, and rather comfy looking pillows. In the right corner, a little kitchenette with various appliances and cabinets for storage. In the middle of the room there was a wooden table with two folding chairs, cards and other assorted items strewn about the surface. you had to admit, besides how cold it was
"Do you think anybody lives here?" you asked Daryl as he started rummaging through cabinets to look for spare supplies. You watched as he brought two fingers down and gave the counter a quick swipe.
"Nah. S' a lotta dust"
You moved further into the room towards the table, where a storm lantern sat, untouched for months or even years. you pulled out your metal zippo lighter and palmed it fondly for a second. Daryl had given this to you months ago and it was one of your prized possessions to date. You recalled a time when you thought he would never give you a gift, or even talk to you for that matter. When you two first met, he wouldn't even look at you and only threw you the occasional snarl, and now he was one of your closest friends. He had really grown as a person since Atlanta... And you had grown fond of him.
Snapping back to reality, you tried to focus on the task at hand, lighting the lantern. with a single flick, the lighter produced a perfect flame. The damn thing was always reliable. The lantern roared to life and gave the room a soft orange glow. You moved around the room, lighting the other three lanterns that were meticulously hung for optimal lighting. You glanced over to ask Daryl a question, but it died on your lips as your eyes found him. From where you were standing, you had a perfect side view of his face. The light hit him as it danced in flickering shadows across his features. He knelt over a chest filled with blankets on the floor, concentration painted on his knitted brow. He looked pretty like this, his bangs falling lightly over his eyes while he moved about. He stuck his tongue out in concentration, one of his many admirable idiosyncrasies, like when he fidgets with something in his fingertips, or rubs his chin with the back of his hand.
You break from your thoughts again, mentally scolding yourself for once again getting side-tracked thinking about Daryl. You decide to at least try and look around for things that could be useful, focusing on a nightstand next to the bunk beds. It was a shoddy thing, looked like it was built out of a pallet and nailed together by a blind child. It had a drawer though, so that was a start. opening it, you find quite a few... interesting things. A chain of at least 15 condoms, a really expensive looking vibrator, a polaroid camera, a few boxes of film, and some already taken photos. Upon closer inspection, the photos revealed a couple in some very compromising positions. One photo in particular was a view of a woman laid out on a bed, sweaty and tense, breasts on display for the camera with her back to the sheets. You immediately begin striding over towards where Daryl was hunched over a box with an amused look on your face.
"Hey, look what I found!"
Daryl turned his head away from what he was currently occupied with, a box full of books in the corner of the room.
"whatcha got there?"
You lower your hand, silently offering the pictures to him. He flicks his head to the side, effectively moving his bangs from his eyes for a better look. His cheeks fired up as he flipped through each picture and felt the embarrassment welling up in his chest.
"These too," you said lightly as you held up the chain of condoms and the vibrator with an amused look in your eye.
Daryl's blush spread from his cheeks to his shoulders, and his ears were comparable to the color of a ripe strawberry at that point.
"Some couple back a' Alexandria gon' enjoy 'em," He managed to utter. But oh, how he wished it was the two of you putting them to use instead.
"Oh hell no! this bad boy is mine!" you said, holding up the vibrator, "They can have the condoms though."
Daryl did NOT need that image in his head right now. Of you all laid out, that thing going between your legs, your moans filling his ears, maybe his name spilling from your lips...
The truth is, Daryl had been harboring a crush on you since the prison. He had to admit, the beginning of your relationship with him had a rough start. He was mean to you for no reason other than he was too scared to get close to you. Wasn't any easier with Merle in his ear all the time, "Tha' girl ain' gon' wantchu baby brother. you're just a lowlife." But after Merle was gone, Daryl had slowly realized that he hurt you over time. You avoided him around camp and used every excuse in the book to prevent spending any time with him. When Hershel's farm burned down and the group was on the run, Daryl would ask Rick to give him as many watch shifts as he could with you. And when the group found the prison, He did the same thing. Taking shifts with you up in the guard towers, bringing extra snacks he found on runs with him so you two could eat. Eventually, Rick started pairing the two of you up on runs, and you two made a flawless team. you both maneuvered expertly, like you were fine tuned to each other's movements and reactions. You both worked on the same brain wave, which came in handy when you needed to make quick decisions on an impulse. And eventually, the archer began to develop feelings for you. At first, he would find himself looking at you, admiring how your body moved when you took out walkers on the fence. Then he started thinking about you, finding little things on runs that reminded him of you and pondering o if you would like them or not. He didn't usually bring them back though, Merle still in his head telling him that it didn't matter how many gifts he gave you, you still would never see him like that. Eventually, the thoughts wandered. They progressed, and sometimes even followed him into the confines of his cell late at night, swirling in his head like a catchy song.
click.
The sudden sound caught him off guard. He looked up to see you chuckling to yourself with that bright smile he adored. He would do anything to see you smile like that, even if it killed him. He watched you with adoring eyes as you pulled the freshly taken picture from the slit in the camera and shook it back and forth. He felt embarrassment creeping up his neck again when you took a look at the photo and smiled. He took a deep breath to compose himself and choked out, "ya gon' lemme see the damn picture r' wha'?." He's trying his hardest to sound nonchalant, but deep down he was nervous, and sweat forming on his palms was certainly showing it.
You hand him the picture, and he replies with a scoff. "tch! I look ridiculous," He remarked while throwing the picture down on the floor.
"No, I think you look great."
He stiffened at that. Fuck! one more thing he's going to think about later when he's alone. He could already feel himself growing in his pants as he groans just low enough so you can't hear. 'Really? jus' a compliment 's giving ya' a hard on? c'mon man,' He reprimanded  himself in thought. The silence thickened, as you shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot with a sad-ish look on your face. 'Oh shit, she thinks she made ya' upset. respond asshol-"
"Well, I guess we should eat," you said, cutting off his thought process.
'fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,' "Sure." 'you fucking coward'.
After that, you both sat down to eat your glamorous dinner of canned pork and beans. The uncomfortable energy had faded at that point, which was another thing Daryl loved about you so much.  You never dwelled on anything longer than necessary, and you always knew how to make the mood right. When you got up to go get something from the kitchenette, Daryl couldn't help but replay what you said in his mind. 'You look great,' what did you mean by that? maybe he imagined the whole thing. Yeah, that must be it. His eyes drifted down to the legs of your now empty chair in thought, where your backpack was propped. And maybe he was imagining this too, but he could swear he saw the corner of a polaroid picture sticking out of the front pocket...
That night he laid down on the bottom bunk of the bed in quiet thought, agonizing over his lack of response earlier, thinking about the picture. He wondered if you would silently resent him now because of it, or even more, he wondered if you wouldn't take his picture again. He always hated having his picture taken as a child. Once in a while, his mother would pretend to give a shit and try to take family photos to hang on the walls. He hated the pictures she took because his bruises were always visible, almost as if to taunt and humiliate him when he'd walk by the frames in the hallway. He's been sour towards pictures ever since, avoiding them like the plague. That was, until about an hour ago. He found himself hoping you would take pictures of him, even with him maybe. God, he would let you do anything to him as long as it made you smile.
His thoughts wandered again, making his cock stiffen in the tight confines on his jeans. Fuck! He couldn't do this now, you were asleep right above him!  The thought of you catching him made the burning feeling in his core worse somehow, as his pants became uncomfortably snug. He flipped over on his stomach in an attempt to diffuse the situation that had been building since the two of you entered this godforsaken bunker, but failed miserably when his sensitive tip brushed against the mattress, causing him to hiss out in pleasure. Fuck, he was a goner. Just then, he noticed the flannel shirt you had left on the floor next to the bunks. He felt shame at the idea that flashed across his mind, but convinced himself that it wouldn't hurt. He was about to do something he hadn't done since he was a horny highschooler. He pulled your flannel up onto the bed by the sleeve and brought it to his nose, taking a big whiff of the area around the neckline. He groaned in satisfaction and flipped on his back as he pushed his pillow on top of his hips and placed your shirt over his face. He reached down, lifting his hips off the bed just enough so he could free his red, throbbing, cock and push it against the surface of the pillow. The contact made him dizzy with anticipation as he thought about what he was going to do. He started moving his hips up in a thrusting, grinding motion slowly so as to not wake you up, moaning a little with each pull and push.
He thought of you as he chased his pleasure, as he always did. He thought of your hips and how they swayed when you walked. He thought of your hands, and how they felt that one day you grabbed his arm to show him something. He thought about that time you insisted on putting his hair in a ponytail, and how was he going to deny you when you looked all sweet and happy? The feeling of your fingers pulling at his hair to get it in the hair tie will be forever engraved into his brain. He thought about you on top of him, riding him while he holds that vibrator to your clit and brings you to your climax.
He whimpered a little bit, pushing the shirt into his face to envelope himself in your scent. you smelled so good to him, like that lavender soap you loved and leather books. The best goddamn smell in the world, or at least he thought so. His hips started to speed up as he became dangerously close to his high. The stark contrast in temperature between his hot, twitching dick and the cool, soft pillow sent shivers down his spine. The friction, The thought of you, Your smell, Your hands, Your mouth. It was slowly becoming too much for him to handle. He needed to cum. He needed to cum to you, FOR you. Then a thought hit him, what if you kept the polaroid because you were attracted to him? what if you kept it because you wanted to... use it. What if you thought about him like this, all sweaty and desperate for you??
oh
OH
That was it, That thought is what made his nerve endings light up all over. His climax came in white hot flashes of pure pleasure, His thick cock spurting long streams of warm cum all over his pillow and bare stomach. He moaned wildly into your shirt as he bit down on the collar, riding out the waves of his orgasm with reckless abandon and no concern for noise.
He laid there slick with sweat and semen, his hair stuck to his face and neck, breathing heavily as he shivered through the post orgasm cooldown. He stayed there for a good minute, still giving little thrusts that made him whine with sensitivity from the overstimulation. Ridiculing himself in shame over what had just happened, He slowly placed your flannel back on the floor where it had previously been and tucked himself back into his pants. He would just clean himself later. However, When he pulled his pillow back up to his head, he realized his mistake. in all his horny desperation, he had forgotten about the fact he had just cum on his pillow with no way to clean it. 'Way ta go dumbass, ya' ruined yer only pillow.' He shook his head as he threw the pillow under the bed and laid back down. Only one slightly embarrassing thought still crossed his mind before he fell asleep, 'I wonder if she'll take more pictures of me.'
Little did he know, that's exactly what would happen.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Morning came, and aside from the shame Daryl felt deep in his gut, the day went pretty well. You returned to the store you two were at the previous day, loading everything you could fit into the storage truck (especially Daryl's chair) and heading for home. The ride home had an awkward air to it, even though you tried your best to lighten the mood with jokes and gossip about the people of Alexandria. Daryl just couldn't keep the conversation going, too busy thinking about last night.
He lit a cigarette and opened the window to get some fresh air. You took notice of how the afternoon sun made his skin shine, and how his lips wrapped around the damn thing perfectly.
click
Daryl turned to you, watching you shake out the film again and giving it a good look.
"S' this gon' be a thing now?"
"Oh, absolutely."
He let a small smirk grace his lips and heard another click to his right.
"What? I rarely see you smile," You said, defending against his scrutinizing look. You gave the photo in your hand another studious glance. God, he was pretty. from the long, brown hair that graced his forehead, down to the stubble on his chin you dreamed about rubbing on your thighs. What would it feel like to have those angular lips drag across your body with need and desire? What sensations would those rough, callused hands make you feel? You bet he's rather dexterous on account of all the whittling he does with those arrows, and the pure skill his fingers use to expertly skin a deer. You bet he's really good at applying pressure in all the right places...
"Hey! Daryl, what the hell?"
Your attention is gripped by Daryl grabbing the camera from your lap with one hand and bringing it up to his face in one swift motion. He snaps a picture of you and glances at the road while he waits for it to print.
"'S my turn, sunshine."
Was he... Trying to be playful right now? The only other time he was playful was that night when you were both up in the guard tower and you challenged him to a game of knife throwing, to which he responded with a competitive grin and a, 'You're on.' You both threw your knives at a very well made target you had drawn yourself that was taped to the pole in the middle of the tower. The rules were simple, First person to hit the bullseye would emerge victorious. After three or four throws, you landed the shot perfectly, causing Daryl to sarcastically accuse you of cheating. Those nights in the tower were some of your favorite memories. Snacks shared over mutual silence, just enjoying each other's company and occasionally talking about random stuff. Such a simpler time.
"Are you gonna let me see the damn picture or what?" You remark, mocking him about the comment last night.
"Nah, don' think so." He retorted, taking a drag from his cigarette and puffing it in your direction.
You faked an offended look, watching him stuff the picture into his back pocket. You think nothing of it as you both make your last turn towards home...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A week later, Rick took it upon himself to throw a party for the new group that had arrived at the gates. You had to hand it to Him, The idea to put signs up on the major roads and train tracks had been a huge success. Alexandria had gained quite a few new members since then, most of which were actually decent people, which was hard to come by these days.
You invited Rosita over so you two could pick out clothes and do makeup together. You enjoyed quality girl time since You didn't have any sisters growing up. Rosita always helped you piece together outfits for these events, she was the self-proclaimed best stylist in Alexandria, not that you would disagree.
You stood in front of the mirror, Feeling the fabric of the dress between your fingertips. It was cute, a red sun dress that hugged your hips and showed off a considerable amount of cleavage. She paired it with a set of black strappy heels that accentuated your calves nicely. She also insisted on you keeping your hair up with two strands down in the front to, "make your collarbones and cheeks really stick out," or whatever.
"Damn mama, You look sexy as hell in that dress, I'm jealous. Daryl's going to love it."
You threw her a sour look.
"What? you know I'm right."
Deep down, you knew she was. "I just don't think he likes me like that Rosa," You said with a sigh. You gave yourself another look in the mirror with a droopy expression.
"That's a lie. Anyone would take the chance to be with you. If I swung the other way, I would sleep with you the minute I saw you, hermosa. And I KNOW Tara would too, That girl has a looking problem."
"Rosita!" You turn back to her with a shocked laugh.
She just shrugged and continued on, "What about that thing you told me about?"
" 'Sita..."
"You saw that man on the bottom bunk of that bed, Masturbating, right underneath you! And you still don't think he has a thing for you?"
You started to feel flushed, "That probably wasn't because of me."
"you're oblivious. Wait! was it big?"
"Oh. My. God. Stop."
Rosita cocked an eyebrow at you, expecting an answer.
"I- I didn't get a good look. It was dark and I didn't want to invade his privacy like that, so I just popped my head back up."
You remembered hearing him breathing heavily and dropping your head over the side to see if he was okay, Only to be met with the sounds of moans and whines and his face covered in some sort of cloth. probably to keep himself quiet so he didn't wake you... It definitely didn't work. You hate to admit it, but you listened to him carry on for another few minutes. Hearing him whine and moan so close to you had your underwear soaked and your legs rubbing together. When he reached his climax, it took everything you had not to make any noise. He was so vocal, and you were just aching for any kind of relief.
You couldn't help but touch yourself after you were sure he had fallen asleep.
"Bor-ring." Rosita said with a disappointed look, followed by her ushering you to come closer so she could start on your makeup. "Next time, Hop down there and assist him."
You chuckled, "Unfortunately, Rosi, I don't think there will be a next time. Now hurry up so I can start on you!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Daryl heard a knock on his front door and shuffled off his new chair and up the stairs to answer it. He was not at all surprised to see Rick on his front stoop, holding a bag in his hand.
"What'd Ya want? M' not goin' to tha' damn party, so ya' might as well stop tryin'."
Rick knew Daryl hated these parties, but had to attempt to sway him to come anyway. When Daryl walked back into the house, Rick followed in hot pursuit all the way to his room in the basement.
"Come on, brother. Just give it a chance, you might enjoy yourself," Rick said as he stepped through the doorway.
Daryl flopped down on the wooden chair that he had pulled out from his workbench to face Rick, " 'S not gon' happen."
Rick had seen the way Daryl looked at you, like a desperate puppy who couldn't breathe unless in your presence. He was about to play dirty, but this was his last resort.
"Y/N is gonna be there."
For a split fraction of a second, Rick saw a hint of excitement in his eyes. But just as quickly as it was there, it was gone.
"an' why's tha' matter?"
Rick walked towards Daryl with the bag still in hand, lowering his voice a bit.
"Wouldn't you like to look at her in person instead of staring at that picture you like so much?"
Daryl stayed silent. He couldn't trust his voice not to come out shakey.
"Here, I brought you some clothes and some other stuff."
Rick tossed the bag in Daryl's lap. Daryl opened the bag to find a pair of charcoal dress pants and a dark green button up shirt, along with what looked like hair gel.
" 'M not wearin' this shit." He said with a disgusted look on his face. "Don't even know how ta'."
"I can help you, And she'd like it. you know I'm right."
Daryl grunted in response, embarrassment welling up in his chest.
"Fine."
"Good. Now take a shower and put those on and I'll help with the rest." Rick said as he walked out of the room. "I'll be waiting out here.
Daryl drug his feet to the bathroom that was connected to his bedroom and started stripping layers. As the water started to run, he got lost in thought. If Rick could tell he liked you, did you know too? What if you saw him and laughed at him because he looked dumb? Rick better know what he's talking about. He picked up his bar of soap and got to work on his legs, scrubbing vigorously until his skin had a pink tint to it. Now he was getting a little self conscious, trying to make sure his skin and hair was clean for you. He really would do anything to see you smile.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I look ridiculous."
"No you don't, now sit down and hand me the comb."
Rick was a persistent son of a bitch, Daryl had to give him that.
Rick ran the comb through Daryl's wet hair, slicking it all back and adding in some gel as he went.
"Alright, looks good! Oh, just one more thing." He unbuttoned the first two buttons on Daryl's shirt, causing him to let out an uncomfortable groan.
"Never leave the top two buttoned, Girls love to see a little chest."
Daryl threw the comb in Rick's direction as Rick dodged it and laughed. "I used to do this for my little cousin, He was a few years younger than me and he loved it."
"ya well 'm glad ya had yer fun, playin' dress up like I'm a damned doll."
Rick just chuckled in response and exchanged goodbyes so he could go get dressed and ready himself.
Daryl looked in the bathroom mirror, His nerves were getting the better of him. What was he doing? pretending like he wasn't redneck trash and dressing like an idiot. If Merle could see him now, he'd be having a field day with this. How was he even going to talk to you like this? You'd probably be too busy laughing to talk.
Well, at least he would see you smiling.
He shook the thoughts away and mentally prepared himself for the shitshow this was about to be.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rick smiled to himself as he entered his room to change.
He was happy to help his brother with any lady issues.
He was even happier that Rosita had come to him with this idea.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You slowly approached the front door to the party, silently wishing Rosita had never talked you into this. "Damn Rosita! And damn rick and his stupid parties." You thought to yourself as you took a deep breath in and closed your fingers around the chilled door knob. With a deep breath, you opened the door and stepped inside.
The smell is what hit you first. Warm, home-cooked food and alcohol. A soft, upbeat tune played from somewhere deeper into the house. Before you could even process what was happening, Maggie had walked up to you, grabbed you by the hand, and pulled you into a circle of people to chat, muttering something about needing to introduce you to the new people. You met a few new folks, Including some new guy named Mitch who was an architect before the world fell apart. you two got to talking, but in all honesty, you were only half paying attention once you realized Daryl wasn't there.
As if the universe listened to your thoughts, the door slowly creaked open and in came Rick and Daryl. And he looked... wow. All thoughts escaped you as you looked him up and down. He cleaned up well, His hair slicked back and that tight-fitting shirt made your head swirl with desire. The two buttons had been popped open at the top, giving you an excellent view of his collar bones and upper chest. Then his eyes met yours, and it was like there was no one else in the room. Quite a few people turned to stare, mostly from your group, probably in surprise at how clean he was. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest and decided to throw him a little wave and a smile.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Daryl left his house and started his stride to the party in the brisk, cold night air. "Ya really let Rick talk ya inta this huh? ya stupid bastard, she's gon' laugh atcha when she sees ya like this. swear ta god im gon' kick Rick's ass later." He approached the front door of the event, hearing the music and laughter buzz through the door. He considered going home and changing out of the stupid outfit to save himself the embarrassment, just sitting in his new chair all night and reading one of the books he found on that run last week. He had only been out for ten minutes and already missed the warmth of his bed and the comfort of his old ratty shirt. Just then, he felt a hand on his shoulder and spun around to find Rick smiling at him.
'fuck, too late now. The bastard caught me.'
"You'll be fine."
Daryl just offered a grunt in response as Rick opened the door and led them both inside.
The first thing Daryl noticed was you, it was always you. No matter if you were wearing the dirtiest rags you could find, or the most beautiful thing you owned, he would always be able to pick you out of a crowd. No matter what. The second thing he noticed was what you were wearing, and he would be damned if his heart was still beating after. He raked his eyes over every inch of you he could, taking in every agonizing detail. The black heels made your legs look strong yet delicate at the same time. his hands itched to run his fingers over your thighs while you sat on his lap, taking the pleasure you wanted from him. He longed to leave that red dress that showed the delicious swell of your breast on the floor of his room. When his eyes lifted to yours, he swore the world went quiet. your eyelashes fluttered as if you were trying to figure something out.
'Here it comes.'
But it never did. You only smiled at him and offered a small wave. And he offered one back.
Only then did he realize people were staring at him and he shrunk back into himself. He tore his eyes away from you and started walking towards the kitchen.
'Where's the alcohol?'
He made a B-line for the open liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Bourbon that would be his best friend for the night. He already felt sweaty and was thankful that cologne rick had let him borrow. He was still going to kill him later though.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rosita swiftly walked towards you and you were already rolling your eyes before she ushered you to an unused corner of the room.
"Tell me you just saw what I saw, because I think I just had a stroke Y/N."
"Stop."
"Girl, that man showered and dressed up for you. His hair is out of his eyes, this may be a marriage proposal."
You had to admit, you were having less than pure thoughts about him right now, specifically his chest, which you thought about on a nightly basis at this point. That shirt brought out his ocean colored eyes perfectly, and you often wondered if you dove deep enough into them, would you ever be able to swim back to the surface? Did you even want to? How would they look closed tightly underneath you in an expression of pleasure? How would his mouth look pleading for more? How would that hair of his look spread out on the floor around his head like a chocolate colored halo?
"I have to admit, He does look rather handsome in that shirt." And you meant it. you REALLY meant it.
"Oh my god! You were totally just having a sex fantasy weren't you?" She said when she saw the ever so slight tint to your cheeks.
"Keep your voice down!"
Rosita gave you a knowing look and smile before you walked away and headed for the kitchen to get a glass of water. Lord knows you could use a cooldown right now. Once at the sink, you pulled a red party cup from the stack on the counter and filled it up with the tap. Turning around, you find Daryl in the corner, sipping a glass of amber liquid.
"Hey."
He looked at you and nodded in response.
Fuck it, why not bite the bullet?
"You look nice. That shirt is a pretty color."
All right. this time his heart might have actually stopped. His body tensed and the room suddenly shot up a few degrees.
'Oh no, no this again. say sum dumbass, tell 'er she looks good'
"Ya- mm," He choked up a bit and lifted the glass in his hand to his lips to take a sip of liquid courage. "Ya look great too. 'S a nice dress."
"Thank you, Rosita lent it to me for the night, along with this tacky purse."
You gestured to the oddly shaped handbag that was draped around your shoulder. The thing was sort of ugly-cute, but it was the only bag large enough to hold the things you wanted to bring tonight. Oh! That reminded you. Somehow without Daryl noticing, you pulled your beloved polaroid camera out and prepared it for a picture. Luckily, Daryl was staring straightforward and lifting his glass for yet another sip, making it the perfect opportunity for a photo.
click
Daryl recognized the sound all too quickly and made an annoyed face. You had been terrorizing him with that camera for the past week. Snapping pictures of him while he was working on his bike or checking the snares outside the wall. You had to have at least 7 of them by now.
He shifted his eyes between you and the camera before you finally lifted the picture to your eyes and smiled.
There was that warm feeling in his chest again.
Your gaze moved from the picture, to him, and back to the picture.
"This one is definitely a keeper."
"pfft, I look ridiculous."
"You look handsome." You have absolutely no idea what just possessed you to say that. you were sure Daryl was going to leave and never come back. Why would you say some stupid shit like that? Why wasn't he saying anything back?
Well, the truth was Daryl was in shock. He must be hallucinating, because He could have sworn you just called him handsome. Were you flirting with him or just being friendly? He tried to come up with something witty to say, but all he came up with was, "Stop."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The night moved like molasses in January. You talked with a few other people about upcoming events, future runs, and guard shift schedules. You introduced some of the new people to long time residents of Alexandria you thought they would get along with.
Rick approached Daryl at some point in the night and attempted to get a conversation out of him. Deciding he had enough of Rick's shit for one day, He started towards the porch to have a smoke. Grabbing the bottle of Bourbon, he stumbled a little when he took a few steps and almost fell into the door. Shit, was he really that wasted? Whatever, a little more couldn't hurt. It was a party right?
You noticed him leave the room out the corner of your eye and contemplated following him to make sure he was alright. You felt ridiculous for even thinking like that. Daryl was a grown man who could take care of himself, he didn't need you bothering him all the time. But maybe he would like some company? He never seemed to mind spending time with you, sometimes it seemed like he would even seek it out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The air outside was a nice change from the stuffy atmosphere in the house. Stepping out on the porch, you immediately noticed Daryl leaning on the railing, a cigarette between his lips and a bottle of alcohol to his left. You cleared your throat to alert him of your presence and prevent him from getting startled. The moment he saw you, His face broke into a dorky grin and he dropped the cigarette into the ashtray on the banister.
"Hey, 'S you"
Was he drunk?
"Ya here ta see me?" He looked around for other people you could be there to see.
He was so drunk.
"D'ya want sum?" He slurred as he lifted the bottle towards you.
He was wasted.
His eyes looked so happy as he offered you the bottle. You had never seen him like this, it was uncharted territory in your friendship. You realized he was waiting for a response so you just smiled and shook your head no.
"How much have you had?" You said as you approached the banister and leaned on it with one arm.
He lifted the bottle and squinted his eyes at it like he was trying with all his power to see, then brought his thumb and pointer finger to the side. He looked like he was trying, and somewhat failing to measure how much had been taken from the bottle. When he was satisfied with his measurement, he held the two fingers up in your direction.
"'Bout tha' much."
You thought this was the most adorable thing you had ever seen, besides that time Judith had chocolate cake all over her face and threw some at Carl. You sat there admiring Daryl with a smirk as he picked up his cigarette and took a drag, a swig of Bourbon followed closely after.
"Daryl Dixon, you are the pinnacle of health, you know that?"
" 'anks, Got it from ma dad."
Your face drooped a little at that. You remember Daryl telling you stories about his family on one of your late-night guard tower talks. He didn't outright tell you his dad was abusive, but he gave you enough pieces to build a very depressing puzzle. It wasn't a very happy puzzle either. You recalled the story about his 13th birthday. His mom forgot what day it was and His dad passed out on the couch watching old black and white movies. But Merle? Merle tried his best to give his little brother a good day. He bought Daryl a little cake from the convenience store in town and presented it to him at the local park. Daryl always said that Merle could be mean, but he still cared for Daryl as best as he could. As best as he knew how.
You took your camera out of your bag again and Daryl looked at you in sad confusion.
"why ya' always tak'n pictures o' me?"
You sighed and began piecing together your explanation. He probably wouldn't remember any of this anyway, so why not?
"Because you are Beautiful, Everything about you is. You are strong, and capable, and when the light hits you at the right angle, it's impossible to resist saving the moment. Your facial expressions are so unique and rare that it makes me want to capture them all and hang them up for everyone to admire. I would paint murals of you if I could find enough wall space to do so."
You hesitated for a split second before bringing your fingers up to his chin.
"You are the most amazing man I have ever met and you don't even know it, do you?"
He stood perfectly still, but not tense this time. He narrowed his eyes in focus like he was trying to sober up to remember this moment.
"y-ya really think tha'?"
Instead of responding, you just moved to his side and brought the camera up to put you both in frame. You got a little closer to him so your head was almost resting on his arm
"Of course I do."
...
Click
...
You brought the camera back down, Grabbing the fresh film and shaking it to cool it down. You turned over the photo, only to realize Daryl had been staring down at you instead of into the camera. You chuckled as you turned towards him to show him the picture.
"Hey big guy, you were supposed to look a the ca-"
You stopped your sentence when you met his eyes. He was still looking down at you. It felt like he was staring into your soul with puppy eyes and nestling his way into your heart with each passing second.
In all your months of friendship, nothing could have prepared you for what happened next. You felt two arms snake around your back and a head rest on your shoulder before you realized. Daryl Dixon was hugging you. And... sniffling?
"Daryl, are you alright?" You asked, worried you might have hurt him in some way.
No response.
You pulled away from him and saw that his eyes were a little wet, so you brought your thumb up to wipe them away. Normally, you wouldn't even think about being this close because he hated when people touched him. But right now, He looked like he needed it. It hurt you to see his beautiful eyes filled with tears, no one this sweet should cry.
"No ones ever said tha' 'bout me."
Your heart broke just a little bit more.
"Well it's true. Now, I'm going to tell Rick I'm calling it a night. Wait right here so I can walk you home."
Just as you walked away, Daryl grabbed your wrist to get your attention.
"Ya don't have ta leave 'cause of me."
Even when he was drunk, he was still as considerate as ever.
"Honestly, I'm getting sick of being here. It's too hot and my feet are starting to hurt from these damn shoes." You offered with a light-hearted laugh. "I'll only be a second."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Leaving so soon?"
You loved Rick, but sometimes you were really sick of his shit.
"Yeah. I'm taking Daryl home."
He raised a playful eyebrow at you. The asshole.
You sighed with annoyance, "He drank too much and I want to make sure he gets back okay."
"Well, that's very nice of you."
"Shut up rick."
He laughed that annoying laugh and gave you the go ahead to leave while Rosita gave you a look. You swore to yourself at that moment you would never show up to one of these parties ever again for as long as you lived.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Alright, come on." You motioned for Daryl to follow you.
He silently obliged.
"Alright, now give me your arm so I can keep you from falling down the steps."
He held his arm out for you and you wrapped your own around it. When touched him, his skin buzzed from the contact. He had never been this close to you, and his drunk brain questioned why he hadn't tried to sooner.
You successfully led him down the front deck steps and towards the road with few complications. He was still stumbling like a child trying to walk for the first time, and you found it pretty adorable how he put his hands out a little when he felt unstable. You both walked for a few moments in silence until Daryl lost his balance over a curb and fell into you, grabbing you for support, almost sending you barreling over.
“'M sorry. ya shouldn' have ta take care o' me like this.”
"I already told you, I don't mind it sweetheart."
He flushed at the pet name as he straightened up. Those goddamn pants Rick gave him were already too tight, but it was even more so now.
"Do you have your keys?"
"Hmm?"
"Your house keys bub. Do you have them? The door is locked," You asked him in as clear a voice as you could. He fumbled through his pockets as you waited patiently for him to produce them. He checked his last pocket and felt something jingle. Pulling them out, he placed them in your hand and watched you search the key ring for the correct one.
When you slotted the key into the door, you felt Daryl wrapping his arms around your waist from the back. You froze as he buried his head into the hair that fell against your neck. You heard him take in a large breath, like he was trying to smell something.
"Ya smell so good."
A heat grew in between your legs and you couldn't move. It was wrong to be turned on by Daryl when he wasn't in the right state of mind, but the way his body felt pressed against yours had your cheeks warm and your eyelids feeling heavy. You almost collapsed when his embrace got tighter.
"D-Daryl, honey, you have to get off so I can open the door."
"Mmm." He reluctantly let go of you and you shakily turned the key and opened the door.
"Can you make it from here?"
"Huh?"
"Nevermind, that answered my question." You chuckled and stepped inside.
"ya have such a nice smile. Makes me happy ta see it."
"Thank you. I'm almost upset you won't remember any of this. come on big guy, let's get you settled and in bed."
By pure luck, you somehow managed to conquer the stairs to the basement with Daryl in tow. You opened the door to his room and ushered him inside to sit him on the bed.
"Hold on, I'll be right back. Change your clothes while I'm gone." The thought of him naked briefly made its way across your mind, but you shook it off and focused on getting him something to drink and eat. You entered the kitchen and made a mental note of things you would need. First off, water. You grabbed a bottle from the fridge and set it down on the counter. Next you needed something easy on the stomach. Looking in the pantry, you spotted a pack of saltine crackers. Perfect! That's what you used to eat when you had the flu. If it could work for sick ass you, it could work for drunk ass Daryl. You figured he would need something for the inevitable headache. The medicine cabinet was just over the refrigerator, you remembered from when Abraham needed antacid and the only person who had some was Daryl. It was a struggle to reach, but ultimately a small hurdle to clear. You mentally patted yourself on the back for a successful and bountiful expedition, and headed back down the stairs. You knocked on the door and heard an affirmative grunt from the other side.
"Alright, I have some water for you, some food too. and ibuprofen for the headache. Don't drink too much, you're gonna be thirsty in the morning."
Looking over at him, you noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt. Now, you knew Daryl had been through a lot during the end of the world, and most of it left scars. But some of the scars littering his torso looked old, really old. You deduced that these were most likely marks left by his father, and most of them looked like healing came rather hard. How could anyone do this to a child? Especially someone as sweet as daryl?
You realized he was looking at you, waiting for you to continue.
"I brought you some crackers too, Eat them in small amounts or you will regret it."
He stared at you as you walked towards his nightstand and placed the items there.
Months of watching you. Months of hearing your sweet voice. Months of watching your thighs peek out from your shorts, and Daryl had enough.
You were startled as you felt a rough force pulling you downwards and it took you a second to realize where you had landed. Daryl wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him, His warm lips found their way to your neck.
"D-mm." Your words were interrupted by Daryl moving his hips upward. You could feel how hard he was and it made you cry out with pleasure. He was holding on to you with pure desperation, Every inch of your body felt like it was burning up.
He moved his lips away from your neck to speak, "I need ya', please Y/N. I need ya ta take me. Y-Ya can h-have me any way ya want. I need ta feel ya." He punctuated the sentence with a thrust upwards that left your head empty and your mouth unable to function. "I-I want ya so much, sunshine. Want ya ta hold me down an-...an`." His hips bucked up wildly and He let out a grunt as his hands left trails of fire down your shoulders and arms.
"Daryl, w-we can't."
He grunted in frustration and looked up at you with big, sad eyes.
"Why? You don't want ta? With me?"
His voice wavered on the last two words and you felt terrible, but he was under the influence and you were worried he didn't really want this. You just didn't want to take advantage of him...
"You're drunk Daryl. I don't want you to regret doing this," You motioned between the two of you, "With me. You might not even remember."
"S-so ya do want ta?"
You leaned down to place your lips on his forehead.
"More than anything."
You took his hands in yours and spoke.
"I'll tell you what, If you remember this in the morning and you still want it, you come find me."
You couldn't help but frown a little as he looked at you with those beautiful blue eyes full of sadness. You brought your finger up to his forehead and ran it over his brow bone, then down his cheek and on to his bottom lip. He kissed your fingertip and you smiled.
"Tomorrow, imma come find ya."
"I'll hold you to that, love."
Daryl sighed as you wiggled out of his lap, already missing the warmth of you against him. He flopped backwards on the bed and grabbed his pillow, shoving it under his head.
You padded your way back to the front door where you had left your heels and purse, all the while thinking about what just happened a few moments ago. Daryl fucking Dixon was kissing and begging for you to take him, and you felt him... All of him. You wanted nothing more than to rip off the layers of clothes that separated the two of you to feel him even more. Tonight's events got you thinking, what if Rosita was right? What if that night in the bunker, he was thinking about you?  You shouldn't get your hopes up, he was most likely just drunk and horny. You've never seen him show any sexual interest in anyone, so he was probably as pent up as could be and just relieving a little bit of the pressure. As unlikely as it was, you hoped he wanted you like you wanted him. His words were like fireworks in your mind, bright and explosive with sparks of color.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
After such a long night, your bed felt like a toasty marshmallow. Your feet were aching, your thoughts were racing, and your body was at its limit. You needed a day of rest and at least three ibuprofen, but a glass of milk and 6 hours of sleep would have to do.
Before heading to bed, you pulled out your leather bound journal and added your new pictures from that night to the pages of your choosing, along with descriptions of each. This was a new thing you started doing after the day you found the camera. You got a few of Glenn and Eugene talking about video games, one of Carl stuffing his face with cupcakes, which was definitely a keeper. Your fingers stopped when they reached the pictures you took of Daryl earlier, especially the one of him looking at you. You decided to keep them out of the book and put them in your nightstand, along with your camera, for safekeeping.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The first thing Daryl noticed was the jackhammer someone let loose in his skull. The second thing Daryl noticed was the unbearable amount of light seeping through his basement window. Seriously, who gave the sun the right to be that fucking bright? He sat up and rubbed his eyes to try and rid himself of the mount Everest sized migraine, effectively making it worse. Great, a wonderful start to the day. He figured he might as well brush his teeth to get rid of alcohol breath. He noticed something out of the corner of his eye. A bottle of water, some pills that looked suspiciously like ibuprofen and... Were those crackers? No way he would have gotten these for himself, he's never done that before, just came straight home and passed out. which means someone brought him home. Someone very considerate.
He took the ibuprofen and washed it down with some water, then ate some crackers to settle the unease in his gut. He tried to desperately remember what the hell had happened last night. He got to the party with Rick and... drank. Ah, that explained the memory loss. He remembered you, and that dress. You took a picture of him, he remembered the camera lens pointing at him, but nothing else. He felt the gel Rick had lent him still stiff in his hair, which meant he had to wash it out. No way in hell he was taking another shower, so a quick wash in the sink would work good enough. He dipped his head down and turned the water on. If he saw Rick today, He made a mental note to hit him.
He lifted his head to stare into the mirror, and his hair was back to its normal self. Perfect! time for toothpaste. He thought about you and tried to recall if he even talked with you. After all, even though he would never admit it to Rick, he DID come to that party for you. He hoped he wasn't an asshole to you, he had a habit of being like that after enough to drink. He needed to figure out what happened, and he knew that someone at that party would have answers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"yes?"
Rosita looked tired when she answered the door, eyes droopy and face turned down in a frown. Her face changed when she saw who was on her front stoop. "Well, if it isn't Romeo. Tell me, what can I do for you at 'way too early for this o' clock."
"Wha' happened a' Rick's dumb party last nigh'?"
"Straight to the point then." She motioned for Daryl to come inside, but he shook his head no.
"Jus' tell me."
"Other than you showing up looking like Al Capone? You drank a lot and Y/N... Took you home." Rosita gave him a suggestive look and if he was being honest with himself, he was shitting bricks. Did something happen with you last night? He would remember if you two... Wouldn't he? Of course he would, it was you, and you were unforgettable. His stomach was churning nonetheless though.
"Ya' didn't hear anythin' else?
"Well...''
"Jesus, jus' fuckin' tell me."
"Alright, Alright."
And she told him everything. She told him about the conversation she overheard on the porch, or at least the little portion of it she heard before she gave you two some privacy. She didn't have to say anything else though, Daryl started remembering a little. And then he remembered a lot. Then he remembered all of it. Everything.
He needed to find you.
He needed to find you NOW.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The knocking on your door grew quicker and louder with each passing second. Who the fuck woke you up and what the fuck did they want. You swore on your mother's grave that if it was Rick, you were going to beat him with your slipper.
"Y/N, are ya home?"
You cut him off mid-knock by opening the door.
"Daryl, are you okay? Is someone hurt?"
The look on your face almost broke him in two before he remembered why he was there.
"Can I come in?"
You opened the door and made a mock butler stance, bowing your head and gesturing towards inside. He walked inside and shut the door behind him rather quickly.
"Jesus, somebody is antsy-"
He got close to you, close enough that you could smell the scent of that cologne still radiating off him in waves.
"Did ya mean it? please tell me ya meant it! tell me ya want ta and we- I-. 'Ve been thinkin' 'bout this forever. dreamin'."
You looked at him in confusion, studying his hopeful features. To be fair, you had just woken up and were not firing on all cylinders. You usually needed a cup of coffee and some food in order to even see correctly. Then it hit you.
oh.
That's what he was here for.
"Yes, I meant it." You DEFINITELY meant it. You wanted him more than anything.
"Good," Was all he said before attacking your lips with his in desperation, as if you would vanish when he stopped to take a breath. His lips were surprisingly soft and warm, like a fresh meal just waiting to be devoured. Your hands threaded through his messy hair, tugging just a little. He groaned and you pulled him down so his head was level with your mouth.
"Any way I want?" You asked, mimicking his words from the previous night.
You heard his breathing stop suddenly for a moment.
"A-any way ya want."
"Follow me, beautiful."
He obeyed and trailed after you, hand in hand, up the stairs towards your room. His nerves were starting to catch up to him and he wished he was as confident as drunk ass Daryl right now. What if you didn't want to be with him and you only wanted to satisfy an urge? This time he didn't let what Merle said, or even his own overthinking, get to him though. You wanted him, you really wanted him, and nothing else in the world mattered to him right now except that. Even if you only wanted him for pleasure, he could learn to live with it. As long as he got to be close to you. He told himself that multiple times as you led him down the hall, and the truth was, it was a lie. He wanted to be with you in every sense of the word. He wanted to wrap his arms around you at night, and confide in you about his worries, and take pictures of him, and put his hair in a fucking ponytails every day so he could see the smile that lit a campfire under his heart.
You opened the door to your room and led him inside. "Everybody crashed somewhere else for the night, so don't worry about being loud. Although, you really didn't seem to care when we were in your room." You shot him a sarcastic grin but stopped when you turned to look at him. He had an embarrassed aura about him and his eyes were diverted to the left. You put your arms around the back of his neck and spoke in a low, suggestive tone, "Your little noises made me so wet, sweetheart. Couldn't stop thinking about them all night."
His cock jumped a little at your words. He was growing in his jeans, and you seemed to take notice. You turned around in a brisk stride towards your bed, and swayed your hips with each step. Daryl was quick to follow as you sat down on the edge and beckoned him.
"Undress yourself for me, sexy."
He stood in stunned shock as he tried to process what you just said. Y-you wanted him to strip for you? He'd never done that before. Well, he had never done much of anything before actually. He wasn't technically a virgin, but just barely. Despite his nerves, he was aching at the thought of being on display for you, so he slowly shucked off his vest and started working at the top button of his sleeveless flannel. No matter how hard he wanted to be sexy and keep eye contact, his brain failed him and his eyes drifted down to focus on his hands. He managed to get two buttons undone before pausing.
You knew immediately what was wrong and you stood up to take his hands in yours.
"I-"
"It's alright Daryl, I uh- I already saw last night, remember? You don't have to continue if you don't want to. You can keep your shirt on, or we can stop if that's what you want. No pressure, all you have to do is tell me. But I want you to know that you are the most breath-taking man I have ever met, and nothing can ever change that."
You rubbed his hands with your thumbs and smiled up at him, trying to tell him how much he meant to you without uttering a single word. His eyes almost welled up in tears from the onslaught of emotions you made him feel. You dropped his hands and softly grabbed his chin, waiting for his answer.
He somehow mustered up the words in his chest and spoke, "I don't want ta stop. P-please."
His little beg went straight to your core. "Then don't," You said as you sat down and leaned back on your forearms.
With each button that came undone, more of his toned chest was exposed to the chilled air in your room. He looked up to see your expression as he reached the last button, your expression looked... hungry. No one had ever stared at him like that before. He weirdly liked it. He watched your eyes rake over his torso as he shrugged out of his shirt and let it fall to the floor. He was so hot right now, so completely turned on while he stood in front of you, as vulnerable as could be. 'Slow down ya dumbass...'f she wants a show 'en giver 'er a show,' He thought to himself as he reached for his belt. He got the buckle free and pushed his hips forward ever so slightly as he slowly pulled the belt out in one tug. He felt stupid for the attempt until he saw you rub your legs together the slightest bit in arousal. He pulled his jeans down over his hips and ass, making his erection slightly more visible to you, and he saw you lick your bottom lip and pull it between your teeth. That meant you liked what you saw, right?
Sensing his question in the air, you spoke, "You are doing so good Daryl, you look amazing for me. Such a god boy."
Your words spurred a sudden confidence and arousal through him. He turned his head to he side, shutting his eyes tightly as he hooked both his thumbs into the elastic of his boxers. He hissed as he dragged the boxers down his legs, making sure his cock was pushed down until the elastic caught on the rim of his sensitive head. He stayed there for a second, making sure you got a full view of his heaving chest and veiny shaft.
"Daryl. stop."
Fuck! Fuck! you didn't like it. You thought this was stupid and he was trying too hard. You decided you didn't want to do this with him-
"Can I take a picture of you? Like this?"
Y-you wanted a picture of him? Like this? T-to keep? God, his cock was throbbing at that thought and he couldn't form words right now, so he just weakly nodded his head.
"Don't move. you look perfect just like this." The praise was making his head weak and his skin glossy with sweat.
You reached into your nightstand and pulled out the camera which was, thankfully, pre-loaded with quite a bit of film. He watched you lift the camera to your eye and speak, "Look at that, so beautiful." You could see the effect your words were having on him. "Look at that sexy chest, and that thick shaft. I bet you are going to feel amazing buried inside me Daryl." He whined a bit and moved his head to the side, most likely to hide his embarrassed flush.
*click*
"Look at me, sweet boy."
He obeyed.
*click*
"F-fuck. Y-ya love takin' pictures, don't ya?" You could hear how horny he was by his speech, and it was really starting to get you going.
"How can I resist when you look so damn tempting. I'm gonna stare at these when I miss you and get myself off to he thought of your hands on me Daryl."
"Ahhhh," He moaned as he lowered the boxers enough to let his hard cock spring upwards and bounce a bit. He just needed relief, just a little relief. He was big, bigger than average, and you knew it.
"I want it in my mouth baby, only for a second, will you let me?" He nodded furiously and already walked towards where you sat on the bed.
" 'Ve never had s-someone- not with their-"
"I'll make it feel good for you sweetheart, I promise. Just enjoy the way it feels." You said as you brought a hand to his pink tip and lightly ran it over his slit.
"G- ahh." He started whimpering lightly.
"I've barely touched you yet angel, and you're already singing for me. Are you sure you can handle more?"
He nodded in response and you closed your hand around his length and started slowly stroking. His hips were shaking a little, this poor man was so pent up it wasn't even funny. You then leaned your head down a bit and opened your mouth to drop his tip on your tongue, and his knees started to wobble when you took him into your mouth fully. Your throat was like heaven around him, hot and wet and tight, so tight. You kept eye contact with him as you worked at his cock, smiling a little when you saw his head throw back in pleasure. Your tongue traced every vein on his girthy meat until you were satisfied you had memorized and mapped out every single one, and by the time you were done, Daryl was panting for air in between moans.
"Now, what was it you told me you wanted me to do? Hold you down and..?"
The sound of his dirty words leaving your lips was the most erotic thing he had ever heard.
"Come on, big guy, use your words."
"H-hold me down an- an f-fuck me 'ntill I can' T-take it." His words were failing him and he felt stupid for not being able to say a single dumb little sentence. He wanted nothing more than to be underneath you while you used him for your pleasure, as long as he got to touch you.
"Lay down then honey,” you said, pulling his arm towards you.
He still couldn’t believe what was happening, even though it was unfolding before his eyes. All the months spent telling himself hell would freeze over before you considered him an option, and here he was, laying on your bed waiting for you to have your way with him. He watched in awe as you started removing your shirt.
“Do you want to help?” You asked him and he nodded in response. “Words baby.”
“Y-yes.”
He went to put his hands on your stomach where your shirt ended, but stopped before he could touch you.
“Are you okay Daryl?”
The genuine concern in your voice toyed with his heart strings in the worst way possible, and he was reminded of how much he actually adored you. You were so caring, understanding, and thoughtful. How was he going to tell you he didn’t know what to do? How was he going to tell you he was nervous to touch you and mess up? Luckily, you spoke up.
"You're overthinking Daryl, I can practically hear the racing thoughts. tell me what's going on in there." You lift your pointer finger and tap at his forehead.
Here goes nothing.
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Daryl shakily spoke,
" 'v Jus' never done this before really with anyone and I-I jus' don' want ta mess this up because I r-remember tha' time at the prison when y-you and Rick were in the garden... t-talking 'bout your high-school days an' all the guys ya've... and..." His eyes lower from yours, and his voice softens to a whisper, "Ya' just have so much more e-experience 'an me when it comes to ta'... this."
Oh, that's what he's worried about?
You open your mouth slightly to begin your reassurance, to let him know it didn't matter to you and you want him no matter what, but he hurriedly started up again.
"I jus' want to make ya' feel good Y/N, I-I think about it all the time. when 'm alone a-at night, touching myself ta' the thought of ya'. the thought of bein' b-buried inside of ya'... I d-don't deserve ya'"
The fire that has been lit by Daryl is now burning with reckless abandon, only stroked by his breathless, heartfelt confession.
"Daryl, look at me."
His face doesn't move, still pointing towards the left of the room somewhere, obviously embarrassed.
"Look. at. me." You grab his chin softly, resting your thumb under his lip, and tilt his head towards you. When his eyes meet yours, your breath stops. You have never seen a man look more lost and full of need in your life, and it breaks your heart to see him like this.
"Daryl Dixon, there is not another man that has, is, or ever will be on this planet that I will want more than I want you." You lean down to his ear and lower your voice, "There is no man I would rather have buried inside me, experienced or not."
He moans lightly, and you feel his cock twitch under you.
"T-tell me what ta' do Y/N. T-tell what ta' do ta' make ya' F-feel good an' I'll do it. Please. I'd do anything ta' please ya'."
"Fuck, Daryl, I can't handle it when you beg like that."
"D-do ya' like it when I beg?" He looks uncertain, and you reassure him with a soft kiss on his nose. The sweet and seemingly innocent gesture makes his face warm.
"Yes, very much. Take off my shirt for me."
He obeys, hands shaking, but only slightly. His gaze burns trails of heat up and down your abdomen as he reaches out a thumb and places it over your naval, rubbing at the skin softly. He looks up at you, assumedly for permission, which you hastily grant with a controlled nod. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Daryl's hands trail up your stomach and towards your back, moving ever closer to your bra clasps.
His fingers work at the little hooks for a few moments before he turns a whole new shade of red and drops his hands to your lower back in defeat.
"Need help?" You ask quizzically.
"Y-yes... please. 'm not sure how ta' yet."
You giggle a little bit but immediately stop when you hear him groan in frustration. Oh no, you hadn't meant to make him upset. He wasn't used to a little playfulness in between the sheets. You pull the clasps of your bra and slide it down your shoulders ever so slightly, you want to leave him the pleasure of removing the garment himself. You grab his hands and pull each of them up to the bra straps hung low on your shoulders. As he pulled the bra free from your chest with a muted gasp, his eyes widened in awe. You both stayed there a moment as he studied every hill and valley on your chest. His eyes met yours in a desperate yet silent plea.
"You can touch me Daryl, go on pretty boy."
The nickname makes him involuntarily move his hips in a wave of unexpected pleasure. You take note of this and decide to stow that information away for later. Led bravely by your words, he reached his palm up and cupped it over your right breast, testing the weight of it in his large, warm palm.
"Shit, 's so...soft," he grunted, experimentally pinching your stiff nipple in between his thumb and forefinger. The sensation shot electric currents through your nerve endings and earned him a short but sharp inhale of breath from your lips. His eyes widened in horror as his hands recoiled from your skin. "S-Shit Y/N, Fuck! 'm sorry, did I hurt ya'? I told ya' I weren't no good a' this-"
Sensing the panic in his voice you cut him off without letting him finish his ramblings. "NO! No! Daryl that felt great. do it again, please. Your hands feel amazing on me." You waste no time in pulling his hands back to your chest and using his fingers to pinch your nipple again. All reluctance vanished from his features when he heard you moan in pleasure and press your still very clothed core against his very naked cock.
"Fuck Daryl. Good job, Good boy."
His cock twitches once again and he knows you felt it for sure this time. He turned his head and buried the side of his face into the pillow beneath him.
"Oh you like that, don't you? Do you like being my good boy Daryl?"
No response. He just closes his eyes tightly.
"Talk to me, sweet thing. I like it when you're vocal, It's hot."
Upon hearing you liked it, he spoke up.
"Y-Yeah. I do like it. I like being-... I like being your good boy Y/N."
You don't think his face can get any redder and the blush is now appearing over his shoulders and chest, as if his system is so overloaded it doesn't know what exactly to do.
"Don't move, keep your face right there, angel."
When the bed shifts he becomes a little suspicious but doesn't dare move after you told him to stay. He wants to be good for you. He wants to be your good boy. Daryl doesn't have to guess what you are doing for long, as you return and he notices the outline of the camera in your grasp. Fuck, you want more pictures of him.
Why does that thought turn him on so much every time?
He lifts his hands to the side of his head, gently tugging at the pillow... posing for you. He'd pose any way you wanted him to just to make you happy. He'd let you take a million photos if that's what it took.
"Somebody's eager. Do you like being my model angel? You like having yourself on display all desperate and horny for me?"
"Yes. L-Love being under ya Y/N. Love b-being yours ta look at. Never thought ya'd W-want ta-... see me like this...T-Take all the pictures ya want. P-please. Never stop. Please never S-stop."
*click*
You wiggle your hips a bit against his erection and his mouth opens as his back arches off the bed. He whines as his chest lifts towards the sky.
*click*
"So pretty. you look so good in these pictures Daryl. I may just have to put one in my wallet to carry around."
You still liked to carry your wallet around from before the world went to shit. It makes you feel normal, like it's just another work day where you forget your keys and spill coffee in your lap. You could think of no better place for some of these photos than in your back pocket, tucked away in between the leather folds...
"Ya'd really do tha?" He looks surprised.
"Oh, absolutely. Now, what do you say about getting these sweatpants off of me?"
He offered no verbal response, just the hasty movement of his once nimble fingers, now clumsy as he fiddles with the knot on the drawstring of your pants. You internally laugh a little. You had witnessed Daryl's dexterous fingers build hundreds of arrows and carve a multitude of sticks. and yet here he was, fumbling with a simple knot that, quite frankly, wasn't very tight.
It made you beam with pride that you could reduce him to this.
"What was it like, your first time?" You inquired incredulously. You were filled with curiosity as you remembered his flustered statement from earlier.
After finally loosening the knot from your pants, and resting his hands on your hips, he answered, "was alright I guess." His expression became sheepish and you knew he was being stingy with details on purpose.
"You don't have to talk about it, But I'm not not going to judge you."
He contemplated for a split second.
'welp, here goes'
"Must'a been 'bout sixteen 'n Merle, He t-took me ta some druggie's house. Druggie's sister was a' least five years older 'n me. She did some... Work on the side. Merle thought it'd be good for me, "It'll make ya a man," 's what he said. S-she-"
He paused for a second, looking up to you for what you assumed was reassurance. You had never seen him look so vulnerable. You placed your hand on his chest, just under his left collar bone. He breathed a bit and continued.
"She took me ta one of the spare rooms an' I told her I'd never done anythin' like tha' before. She told me it wouldn' be an issue and we continued... I- uh, I didn' even finish. She never breathed a word ta Merle and 'm thankful for it."
He looked uncomfortable, and you felt terrible for him. You were the first person to admit that your first time wasn't the best, when you impulsively slept with your lab partner in sophomore year and faked an orgasm to get out of there, but this was definitely worse.
"And you never tried again?"
"N-nah... never wanted ta... 'till now," He replied with a wavering tone.
At least you've had some good experiences. He hasn't had any, and that thought just made you want to give him some.
"So you've never cum inside someone before?"
He weakly shook his head.
"Well then, we'll have to fix that then, won't we pretty boy? Now, I know for a fact you can cum..." You leaned down to his ear and whispered, "especially on pillows." You felt him stiffen below you.
"Fuck! Y-ya saw tha'?"
"I saw it and heard it, sweet thing, made me so horny. I just had to touch myself that night." You punctuate your sentence with a brisk roll of your hips that Daryl mewled at. "What were you thinking about?"
"Y-you."
Your suspicions were confirmed, and it gave you a rush of confidence.
"What were you thinking about me?" You wanted to hear him stumble over his words. you wanted to hear his shameful, dirty thoughts formulate on his tongue.
"Jesus fucking s-shit y/n. I was thinking about you and how ya sound 'n s-smell. I- fuck I love tha way ya smell c-couldn't help myself from..."
Your ears perked up, "from?
He tried to look away from you, but you wouldn't let him. Raising an eyebrow, you offer him a silent challenge to defy you.
His mind was racing now, afraid you might be disgusted with his confession. He needed to learn how to keep his big fat mouth shut. He just couldn't help himself though, he wanted to tell you everything. He wanted to tell you anything you wanted to know about him. He would do anything for you.
He would do anything for you...
He loved you.
In the next few microseconds, Daryl moved that word around in his head over and over again. It felt so right. Like the word had been on the tip of his tongue for a long time, just waiting to be spoken.
He figured now wasn't the best time to tell you though. Instead, he quieted his self deprecating thoughts and opened his now red, plush lips to answer you. He wouldn't let Merle's voice fill his head when he had your sweet one to do it instead.
A sudden wave of confidence rolled over him in ripples.
"Your shirt.  Tha' green flannel tha' hugs yer chest like it was made for ya. had it pressed up against m-my face so I could smell ya all around me when I finished. Imagined if ya thought of me when ya t-touched yerself too. Wondered if maybe ya... used tha' picture ya took of me for... other things."
The smile on your face could be considered sinister from an outside perspective. "You have no fucking IDEA how hot that is Daryl. No idea at all. Jesus, Fuck, that just made me so wet. I think about you all the time when I pleasure myself, does that make you happy? Does it turn you on that I did look at that picture of you when I had three fingers stuffed inside myself to mimic two of yours?" You punctuated that sentence with a cock of your eyebrow.
Your voice almost sounded mocking.
It made your words even more erotic to him.
That was the single most arousing thing he had ever heard with his own ears. He didn't know if it was because of the current sexual context, or if it was just because they came from you.
He decided it was a combination of both, leaning more towards the latter.
You were overwhelming him and he loved every single second of it. All he smelled was you. All he saw was you. All he heard was your voice and your breathing. Everything was you. Just you. You. You. You. He needed to have you with every fiber of his being. He needed to be surrounded by you even more.
"Fuck me Y/N please. please please pleasepleaseplease. Can't- Can't stand not being inside ya anymore." He whined out the whole thing and it was almost incomprehensible.
"Whatever my good boy wants."
And with that, you put your hands on his and guided them back to the elastic at your waistline. Something about his hands in yours felt absolutely perfect, like they were made for it. That idea mixed with the feeling of his rough fingers brought a familiar swell in your chest that you often felt when you were in Daryl's presence. However, this time it was much stronger and much more warming. You wondered if it was because of the sexual contact or if it was just because of him.
You decided it was a combination of both, leaning more towards the latter.
You lifted your hips for his for a moment so Daryl could remove your sweatpants from the upper part of your waistline more easily. You pulled them the rest of the way down and removed them completely, along with your red silk panties.
Daryl's brain short circuited when your bare ass and pussy sat down just above his throbbing cock. He could feel your wetness leaking onto his stomach and the thought of tasting it crossed his mind. 'Later' he said to himself. He'd pleasure you with his mouth later if you would let him. And even though he had never eaten a girl out before, he would damn sure make up for it with enthusiasm to do so.
You looked at the soft panties in your hand and then back to Daryl, who had his eyes fixated on where your sex met his skin. He was so deep in thought he didn't even notice what you were doing right now. You could practically read his mind at this point, so you called out to him and held out your soaked panties towards his face.
"Go ahead baby. I know you want to."
He wasted no time in bringing the garment to his nose and giving a big, unashamed whiff... Then brought them to his tongue and licked a long strip of the crotch while keeping eye contact. The look on his face was like a starved man being fed a feast for four. His eyes darkened and he let out a moan of pure satisfaction before tossing them to join the other discarded clothes in the room.
You reached over to the drawer in your nightstand and pulled out a condom that you guessed was his size. Taking the wrapper between your teeth, you ripped the foil in half and pulled the condom out.
A memory from highschool flashed behind your eyes and you got a wicked idea. You made an "O" shape with your lips and suctioned the condom on them. You lowered your head to his cock and started slowly rolling the condom down the head and over the shaft, using your tongue as assistance.
You guessed by the little throb that pulsed inside your mouth that he liked it.
"Fuckin' Fuck!"
You giggled, "So eloquent."
"S-Shut up."
A Little amused sigh was shared between both of you.
This moment was so perfect, and it was about to get even better.
"Are you ready?" You asked genuinely, even though you knew the answer. You just wanted to make sure.
"Jesus Fuckin' Christ yes Y/N. F-fuck me already."
That definitely sounded like consent to you.
You gripped his shaft lightly as you positioned your hips over his in a kneeling stance, the head of his cock just barely beneath your entrance. Without warning, you started sinking him into your warm, wet heat.
Two things happened at that moment. You were overcome with pleasure and nearly collapsed all the way on top of him due to your wobbling knees, and Daryl let out a moan that could only be described as pure fucking bliss. If you were feeling pleasure, he must have been feeling heaven given the sheer volume and force the noise from his lips possessed. You didn't know if Daryl's neighbors could hear him right now, and quite frankly? You didn't give a single fuck. You wanted everyone in this whole godforsaken community to hear how good Daryl was feeling. How good you made him feel. You wanted that asshole Rick and Rosita to know that they got their wish and you were both enjoying every second of it. This spurred you even more, and despite your knees protest, you sunk down on him even slower to prolong the moment. Your eyes rolled back and you whimpered deeply as his meaty dick hit bottom and stretched you out sinfully. As soon as his cock was fully sheathed inside you, His moans turned to whines.
As his body fought for control over itself, he shivered and his hands became restless. At that moment he decided, somewhere deep down in his subconscious, that he was going to spend every second he had buried inside your wet, tight cunt. He was never going to waste another second without the feeling of you around him, whether it be your arms or your sweet pussy. The rest of his days were going to be spent with you. Of course, he didn't voice any of these thoughts. His mouth was too busy telling you how good you made him feel, even if it wasn't with words. He managed to open his eyes only to meet your piercing gaze, full of what appeared to be admiration. And if he wasn't buried inside of you, he could probably cry at your sincerity. He realized you actually cared. He realized you wanted him to enjoy himself. His whole life, no one had ever looked at him like that before you, like he was something to care for. After a moment, Daryl realized you were also searching his face for any signs of discomfort, and his heart melted at the sentiment. He gave you a slight nod and a soft, somewhat awkward smile.
A smile looked foreign on his face, given that he always seemed to be annoyed at one thing or the other. His frown was well known and well joked about between you and the other members of the group, especially Carol. You have very rarely seen even a ghost of a smirk flash across his face. While it was strange to see the happy expression on the mostly angry man, it was not unwelcome. A smile suited him, and you were determined to see it more often.
Agonizingly slowly, you lifted your hips and dropped them back down, the feeling it left resembled fire on your trembling walls. Daryl was laying back with a blissed-out look on his face like a man high on the most exquisite drug money could buy. That's what you felt like to him, a drug, Intoxicating to the point of suffocation, and he could overdose on you at any second. You altered his senses in the best ways possible until he couldn't form a single cohesive thought. Every movement of your insides that was awarded to him sent a jolt of electricity and pleasure up his spine, and he knew his right hand could never compare to this. With every passing second he spent buried inside you, he knew exactly how much you had ruined him.
Nothing could ever make him want it any other way.
You had never felt like this before with anyone.
No man had ever made you feel as empowered as Daryl was right now. Sex with most guys you knew just consisted of them trying to take what they needed from you, and then making up some lame excuse to leave. It always felt like a task for you, leaving you unsatisfied. Daryl was different in every way possible, he gave you everything. At this moment, he bared his entire soul to you, every vulnerability and insecurity on display, a sign of his complete trust. Even though he was a bit out of it, he still ran his hand up and down your back and chest, delicately pinching and caressing your breasts with fervor.
This was more than just sex to you, and it was more than just sex to him. The rhythm, the matching movements, the energy that was radiating in the air, all of it formed itself into the most delicately perfect dance, a waltz of two lovers. You couldn't imagine a better dance partner.  Daryl was a masterpiece to you, an awe-striking painting that was made with billions of perfect brush strokes and a quality of paint that only true master artists possessed. He deserved to be admired. He deserved to be recognized. You wanted to paint murals of him and write songs about him, you wanted to capture his every expression in photos and fill the empty spaces of your existence with them. You wanted to be full of him in every way you could be because the laws of imperfection didn't apply to him in your eyes.
You mustered the strength in your arms to pick the camera back up from where it was resting, and bring it to your eye. You wanted to remember this moment forever, and you were going to snap as many photos as it would take for that to happen.
*click*
Daryl whimpered and bucked his hips.
Before you could realize what was happening, Daryl had a surge of coherence and used it to flip you over, keeping up the pace without a hiccup. You were surprised at how fluidly he managed the motion like he had done it a thousand times, even though you know he hadn't. You would be proud if you could muster up a thought that wasn't laced with lust and wanting, however, the rhythm of his snapping hips wouldn't allow that at the moment.
You opened your eyes to take in the sight above you, the camera still in hand. This gorgeous man's woodland brown hair was hanging from his head and swaying in the air with every thrust, and his eyes were strained shut with concentration. There was just enough space between you for you to bring the camera in front of you comfortably and snap a quick picture. His strong shoulders and forearms were flexing deliciously as he held himself above you, and the camera flash made the sweat on them sheen like he was glowing.
That one was going to look great later when you could focus.
You dropped the camera to your side and reached out your hands and placed them on his face, rubbing them over his brow bone and cupping his cheeks in your fingers. His facial tension dissipated the moment your skin came into contact with his, and he opened his eyes to greet the image below him.
"It's okay to go slow, my love. There's no rush. Just feel it. Just feel me." You stated in a husky, almost whispered voice.
He exhaled in response, and the sheer length of the breath served as a reminder of how much smaller than him you actually were.
"Wan' ya to feel good." He informed you, sounding mildly timid, yet still as confident as ever. He smirked at you and punctuated his sentence with a rather cocky roll of his hips that momentarily left you breathless.
"I feel fucking fantastic," you sighed, "I feel like you are wrapped around every piece of Me Daryl. I can feel you in my nerve endings, I can sense you in my lungs. Please don't stop. You make me feel like I am dying in the best way possible." You meant every word and so much more.
Daryl's expression changed from confident to loving in an instant, and he experimentally rolled his hips slower and softer, studying the movement of your face. He spent so long with his eyes shut from the pleasure that he barely got to see what you looked like when he buried himself inside you, and he could kick himself for wasting that time. You looked like a dream with your eyes fixed on his, that pure sexual expression painted on your features. Your hair spread itself out over your charcoal gray pillows and sheets like you were floating in a pool of water. He took notice of how your breasts were warm and sweet like softened butter, the small amount of light in the room cast shadows that contoured your figure perfectly. You looked like a goddess below him, chest heaving and long, feminine lashes blinking. Somewhere along the way, the comforter had been discarded from the bed to the floor, and the sheets had become rustled. They shaped themselves around the outline of you like a renaissance painting of a noble queen, the kind that would have men bowing at her feet.
It was his turn to take a picture.
Daryl leaned back on the balls of his feet and grabbed your thighs so he could pull your hips to meet his once again, letting his touch linger for a moment or two before grabbing that camera that you loved so damn much and charging the flash.
"Stay still." You hear him grumble out under his breath.
You gave him your best sexy pout and felt his cock jump a little inside you.
"F-Fuck," You heard him grunt out once again, "Fuck, you are so- such a-." He pulled the photo from the camera and studied it, shuddering out a breath as you clenched around him slightly. "B-Beautiful."
He dropped the camera down somewhere gently, and honestly, you couldn't care less about the fucking thing right now. All you wanted was to feel him moving inside you again. You didn't have to wait long, because he was back on top of you again in an instant, but this time it was different.
Daryl lowered himself onto his forearms and knees, making sure to bury his head in your neck and hair, keeping his chest connected to yours to the point where you could feel his heartbeat. He wanted to be able to smell your scent all around him when he finished, just like he did with your shirt in that bunker. He wanted to be surrounded by you as much as possible. He wanted to be totally overwhelmed by you. This new position allowed him access to places you didn't know someone could reach, and his moans and whines were bringing you ever closer to your end.
"Close." You struggled the words out, both a warning and a promise.
"Tell me. T-tell me where yer-." He was interrupted by an involuntary moan escaping from his throat, "Tell me where ta T-touch you. Want to help ya. Please I-I'll be good. Promise. Please please please," He trailed off.
He definitely knew how to get what he wanted.
You grabbed his hand and guided it slowly between your legs until the rough pads of his fingers found your clit and you cried out. He began carefully rubbing circles over that spot as he picked up the pace. This was absolutely devastating for you, the feeling of his fingers and his cock working in perfect tandem had you practically crying for him. Daryl's moans were becoming needier by the second. Every time he pressed down on your clit, you clenched around him tighter. You felt like wet velvet. Wet, hot velvet.
"P-Please cum fer me Y/N, want ta know 'M makin' ya feel good. 'M so c-close fer ya. Please let me feel ya cum 'round me." His voice was almost unrecognizable, filled with need. And it sent you over the edge.
Your legs wrapped around his lower back, and your fingernails dug into the flesh of his shoulders, leaving streaks of red in their path. The wave of your orgasm came crashing down around you, clouding all of your senses and making your vision go white. All you could feel is pure pleasure, and Daryl's hair in your fists. He wasn't too far behind.
Your legs constricted around him like a snake ready to strike, but if this is what being poisoned felt like, then he would gladly die right here, like this. The only pain he had ever felt was filled with hate and malice, but as your fingernails raked down his back, the fire he felt made him dizzy. The pleasurable pain spurred him on even more. Your scent surrounded him as he desperately pressed open-mouthed kisses wherever he could reach on your neck and jaw before he felt your sweet pussy pulse around him. The final straw was the feeling of your fingers pulling at his hair, and the coil inside his stomach snapped. He came in thick, hot spurts that forced a small scream from his throat as he humped into you needily. He melded completely into you, and you were so close at that moment, that you didn't even feel like two people, you felt like one.
The scene looked like something out of a movie. The sheets were misplaced and wrinkled, and clothes littered the floor, thrown off in the throes of passion. Countless polaroid pictures were spread out around the bed, surrounding you and Daryl, the camera long forgotten on the floor. You both came down from your high breathing heavily, slick skin now comfortable and chilled in contrast to how feverish you both were a moment ago.
And you just lay there, reveling in each other, in the feeling of one another's presence. Your skin vibrated with the feeling of your afterglow, and you both silently agreed to spend a few moments relaxing.
....
You felt him slowly gain control of his limbs and leave some soft kisses behind your ear. If anyone told you that Daryl fucking Dixon would be so soft and emotional after sex, you would have called them crazy. But right now, as he starts to trail the kisses up your jaw and cheek, making his way to your lips, you would believe anything. When his lips finally do meet yours, it's the sweetest kiss you think you could ever receive. He's so gentle and you can tell that he poured everything he was feeling into it, that way you could feel it too.
The silence was broken by him pulling out of you slowly, and you shuddered at just how empty you felt without him. You both groaned when he left you, and he noticed how you shivered.
"Are ya cold?." He asked, and he looked genuinely concerned.
The sentiment warmed your heart.
"I-," You went to speak but he cut you off.
"Cuz I can get ya a blanket, er I could turn up the heat. Here." With that, he lifted himself off the bed in search of the comforter, covering you with it when he found it.
"Thank you, Daryl, bu-."
"Or I can get ya some food if yer hungry, sumthin ta drink?"
"No no, I'm good baby. I really appreciate it, I do. but jus' want you to come lay with me. please? Hold me? If you want to, that is." You slurred out the words due to exhaustion
"Y-yeah alrigh'."
He went to take off the condom, probably to tie it off and dispose of it, but you couldn't have that. You've been dying to know what he tasted like for way too long.
"No, stop. Let me." You demanded as you sat up, the comforter falling to your lap. "Come here, please."
He complied, walking to the edge of the bed, waiting for you. You reached out and grabbed the tip of the rubber, working it off of his softened shaft slowly.
"Ya better hurry up, or imma get hard again real soon.''
The condom came off and you held it by the top as you opened your mouth, making sure to keep heavy eye contact with Daryl. His cum flowed out of the condom in thick, creamy globs, landing on your tongue in a sizable puddle.
"Fuuucck girl, yer gonna fuckin' kill me," Daryl spoke in his delicious southern drawl.
You fully expected him to stand there and watch you until the condom was empty, but instead, he grabbed your face and pressed your warm lips to his. This utters a noise of surprise from you until you feel his tongue enter your mouth and mingle with yours.
Oh, he wanted to taste himself with you.
That was bringing some familiar feelings bubbling up in your stomach.
You returned the kiss with equal amounts of passion and an eager tongue. The kiss left you both breathless as Daryl pulled away and you drug him down to bed with you. You both laughed lightly when he landed on top of you with an 'oof'. He rolled over on his back and looked at you, waiting for you to cuddle up next to him like you promised you would.
Eventually, you got the hint and made your way under his arm, laying your head on his chest.
Even though Daryl hadn't really cuddled before, it felt natural with you, like breathing. His mind wandered a bit, wondering if you enjoyed your time with him. 'Of course she did, you retard, she was screaming underneath you a few minutes ago.' At least his internal voice was actually helpful for once. He couldn't help but wonder though... Thankfully, he didn't have to.
"I can see your mind moving, sweetheart. Ask what you want to ask."
He was really thankful you could read his mind sometimes.
"Did- Did ya... Enjoy urself?" His reluctance was obvious.
He sounded small when he spoke. You didn't like it.
"Daryl Dixon, I want you to listen to me very closely. That was the best sex I have ever had. You are the best man I have ever been with, and I would definitely like to do it again. With you. In my bed. Or maybe yours. Possibly your new recliner. Your workbench. Maybe against the bike..."
"Alright, Alright. I get it," He let out a low chuckle, his mind put at ease.
The room was silent for a little while as you just enjoyed the silence that was so rare in a world filled with the shambling dead.
...
...
"So the bike, huh?" Daryl asked, laced with humor.
You looked up and met his gaze, smiling deviously.
"If you like that, you would love some of my other ideas."
His interest peaked. "hmm? Tell me all 'bout 'em."
You both chuckled.
"Well, I've seen you flipping that combat knife around..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You woke up to sunlight streaming through the curtain-covered window, it danced across the hardwood floor smoothly. Right away you noticed three things. First, Daryl isn't next to you, which made you feel a bit sad at first. Second, You smelled something absolutely delicious, and you wanted to track down the source of the scent. You noticed the third thing as you were searching for your clothes, Daryl's shirt draped across the nightstand by the bed, which meant he was probably still there. You put it on, along with your discarded sweats from the previous night, and made your way downstairs. The smell got stronger and stronger until you entered the kitchen, the source of the odor. And there he was, standing in front of the stove in a pair of pants and no shirt. Suddenly, the smell wasn't the only thing that was delicious.
Daryl was dishing out pancakes when you walked in, a plate of bacon, and a cup of black coffee sitting next to him. He noticed you immediately and smiled softly. You walked up behind him while he was pouring more coffee from the pot into a second mug, and wrapped your arms around his torso. You noticed the scratches you left on him from the night before, and leaned your cheek on his back, feeling a sense of pride.
"What's all this?" You feigned ignorance.
"'S breakfast. for us." He looked very proud of himself.
If he got any sweeter, you don't think you could handle it.
"This looks delicious, Daryl. You did an amazing job," And you meant it, "You Look pretty damn delicious too."
He chuckled and you could feel his shoulders shake with the action.
"Tell ya what, finish yer greens, and ya can have dessert.'' The last word was a little heavier than the rest of the sentence, and you understood the implications. Who knew Daryl Dixon was so playful?
Having you in such close proximity was driving him wild all over again. He had never been touched so much by someone in such a short amount of time, and feeling your warm skin on his in a domestic environment was making him hotter by the second. He peeked over his shoulder to look at you and when your eyes made contact, he felt that electric spark all over again. You were a sweet little thing, pressing your lips softly against his back and touching his chest like this. He could feel the love radiating between you two, and it was laced with a barely tamed lust.
Were you wearing his shirt?
He might just have to fulfill the promise he made to himself the night before, and get a taste of you for breakfast instead.
How would he even initiate that though? He didn't really know what to do exactly because he was still new to this, but he did know that he wanted his tongue buried inside your moist heat until he couldn't feel it anymore. Do you even like that sort of thing? Would you want that from him?  No. No, he wasn't going to let himself overthink this. You liked eager, right? Well, then he was going to be eager for you. He decided that what he lacked in experience when it came to this, he was going to make up for in his desire to make you feel good.
"Daryl, are you ready to eat?"
"Hell yes, I am." He replied to you under his breath.
"What was that bab- Ooh!" The wind was taken from your lungs in surprise as he swiftly turned around, picked you up by your thighs, and set you down on a nearby countertop. The shock factor soon wore off and faded into excited giggles.
"The food is going to get cold," You whined as his palm covered your sex, catching you off guard again.
His mouth came to your ear and you shivered, feeling his breath tickle the skin there.
"Food feels warm ta me." He really hoped you would find this sexy and not stupid. Just in case, he made sure to deepen the tone of his voice just a bit.
You found it very sexy.
He pulled away and made direct eye contact.
Was he really serious about this? Did he actually want to put his mouth on you, or was he playing around? You wondered that for a moment, his eyes bore into you like a needle in some fabric.
And then he slowly sank to his knees...
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
Still keeping that intense eye contact, Daryl moved forward on his knees and pulled you to the edge of the counter by your thighs, then started working on the drawstring of your sweatpants.
You had to admit, your brain was short-circuiting a little. Was this really about to happen, or were you dreaming that Daryl Dixon was pulling your pants down from the ankles? The latter was very likely, considering you had dreamed about scenarios like this before, In this kitchen, With him. And he was about to make that dream come true, whether he knew it or not.
He made quick work of discarding your sweats, and you were thankful you had decided to forgo wearing panties today. The shaky nervousness from the previous night had obviously dissipated, and you were definitely glad for it. His gaze had moved from your face down to your cunt, greedily taking in the sight of you, almost as if he was memorizing everything perfectly. You were practically soaked already, and he felt a wave of pride wash over him.
At least he knew you liked this so far.
You grabbed a handful of his hair, forcing his eyes up to look at yours. The feeling of your fingers yanking the roots of his hair was something he could get used to.
"Please Y/N, please let me eat ya out. Ya like when I beg right? 'll be good. Promise. Please? Been dreamin' 'bout how ya taste fer a long time. P-Please use me, use my face, pretty girl."
His admission made you gush. You gripped his hair tighter.
Your tone dropped lower, and your eyes became lustful.
"Open your mouth," You commanded, and he obeyed.
You pushed your hips out, presenting yourself like a five-course meal just waiting to be devoured, and pulled his head forward until his now outstretched tongue rested against your folds. You moaned softly, eyes rolling in the back of your head. His mouth was devilish, lapping up your juices like they were the best thing he had ever tasted. To him, they were.
Daryl was feeling beyond amazing, you had the most exquisite flavor he could imagine, nothing could compare. He sped up his tongue, licking from the bottom of your sweetness, all the way to the top, then flattening over your clit. Your noises got louder, and your fingers pulled him closer by his hair. You chased your pleasure by jutting out your hips, practically grinding yourself on his face. He lifted your legs over his shoulders to give you a better angle on him, to make himself more accessible to use. Every sound you uttered made him swell with even more pride, letting him know he was touching you like you needed. He pushed his tongue inside of you, wiggling it around slowly in experimentation. He noticed you gripped his hair more when he angled it up, so that's what he did. Your thighs sandwiched his head in their pillowy warmth, and it was his turn to groan, although it was muffled by the flesh of your sex. He knew what Merle meant now about eating pussy, This was fucking fantastic.
You fed off of each other's noises and touches, each becoming more eager every time. You were getting close, and Daryl could feel it in how hard your thighs clenched around his head with every movement of his tongue. It was now or never.
Daryl brought his fingers to your entrance and moved his tongue to your clit, slipping two of them inside and curling them upwards slightly like he did before. It was like he had pressed a button when he stroked that spot inside of you, and it made you see stars. Your orgasm hit you so powerfully that you almost went limp when the first wave hit. You spasmed around Daryl's fingers like you had never cum before, your vision went white momentarily and you felt something else coming from inside of you. His fingers continued their motions inside of you, coaxing you through your release. You felt yourself getting wetter, Impossibly so.
Oh shit. Did you just-?
Looking down after you gained control confirmed what you suspected.
"Fuckfuck, Y/N. Wha' the fuck was tha'?" Daryl looked mesmerized, staring down at his now-soaked arm and chest, glistening in the kitchen light.
You were still a little light-headed, so your response was staggered.
"That was-... It's called squirting. It- It happens when a woman gets really aroused." You were still a little out of breath, so all you could do was lightly run your fingers through Daryl's hair, massaging his scalp with your nails. "It means you did a very good job." You closed your eyes for a second and spoke again, "Sorry for not warning you."
...
Daryl's lack of response mildly concerned you until you looked down and he was staring at his hand in what looked like awe. His hand moved closer to his mouth and he was... tasting it? He was sucking on his fingers like his life depended on it, taking as much of your juices in as he could.
"Mmm, fuck. Ya taste better 'n ice cream," He spoke, his words muffled by his fingers.
You responded with an amused chuckle, pulling him back up to stand in between your legs. Deciding it was your turn to taste yourself in his mouth, you pulled him in for a soft kiss, tongues mingling affectionately.
"We should probably clean up a little and eat," You suggested, remembering the food that was probably ice cold by now.
Daryl offered a satisfied grunt and kissed you quickly before wandering off to look for a towel.
You couldn't be happier.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The food was, in fact, ice cold by the time you got around to it. However, considering the fact that your legs wobbled a bit when you walked, you couldn't care less about how warm breakfast was. You would do it all over again.
You both talked about what the plans were for this week. Runs, weapons training, and the box of motorcycle parts Daryl found a few days ago in an old auto body shop. Somewhere during the conversation, you realized just how domestic this was, like you two were a married couple spending the morning together.
You liked it.
You loved it.
You loved him.
You both made it about halfway through your meal before you were ever so rudely interrupted by a slight knock at the front door. With an annoyed sigh, you padded your way there across the hardwood floor and unlocked the knob while twisting it. When you opened the door, Rick was standing on the porch, hands resting by his sides.
Rick took notice of your choice of clothing, specifically Daryl's shirt. He decided to play dumb anyway. He knew damn well that Daryl went to see you after he talked to Rosita because Rosita told him so.
"Can I help you with something, Rick?" You sounded mildly annoyed, which made him smile a bit.
"Have you seen Daryl 'round? 've been lookin' for 'im. Wonderin' if he maybe went out without tellin' someone again."
Before you could answer, you felt the presence of warm hands on your sides and a chin resting on your head.
"Ya found me," Daryl sounded annoyed too, "Ya need sum?"
You melted into Daryl's touch a little and cocked a questioning eyebrow at Rick. You could tell that Daryl's PDA put him off track for a second or two before that shitty grin of his returned even stronger. God, you wanted to punch him.
"I was jus' lookin' for you so we could go over the plans for the supply run in a few days," His words were filled with smarm, "But it can wait for later."
Daryl spoke before you had the chance to.
"Good, See ya later," Daryl closed the door before Rick could spout more bullshit, pulling you closer to him and sniffing your hair.
Who was this affectionate man and what had he done with the hardass you knew?
You both could hear Rick laughing as he walked off the porch, and Daryl groaned into your neck.
"'M gonna beat 'is ass later. can' believe he talked me inta goin' ta tha' damn party."
You laughed a little. "As much as I hate to say it, you should probably be thanking him. I mean. some good definitely came of it."
"Oh my god, you're right," He spoke sarcastically, fake shock playing in the undertones of his voice.
You stood there for a minute, laughing in his arms and reveling in the attention he was giving you. You had never seen him like this, so happy and loving, He seemed like a completely different person right now. Somewhere deep down, you knew this side of him would be reserved for only you, and it made the moment all the more special to you.
In truth, Daryl had never felt like this before. Of course, he felt love towards the group, but it was a familial kind of love, This was different somehow. He wanted to be your partner, your best friend, and your backup in dangerous situations. He wanted to patch up your cuts, share a beer with you, and protect you when you needed it. But most of all, he wanted to give you everything you could ever want from him. Whether that was a life of fighting and hunting or a white picket fence with a few kids, It didn't matter to him as long as it was with you.
Daryl picked you up by your legs, still giggling, and carried you deeper into the house to spend as much time as he could with you before you both had to face the life that waited for you both outside.
Neither you nor Daryl would have ever guessed that the dead would rise up and bring the apocalypse,
Neither of you ever thought you would find a family from a group along the way,
And neither of you ever guessed you would find love in a world where it was lacking.
And honestly?
Neither of you would want it any other way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"That was a genius idea, I have to admit," Rick spoke with playful admiration.
"I told you it would work, that girl has a serious thing for formal wear... and for Daryl," Rosita stated with a hint of smarm in her voice.
Rosita, tired of her best friend's shit, came to Rick a few weeks ago and they devised a plan. Rick's job was to throw a bullshit party for the newcomers and get Daryl to shower and wear normal clothes, Which Rosita knew would be easy once he mentioned you, then all they had to do was push you two towards each other all night. The outcome of that evening may not have been what they expected, but regardless, the result was still the same. At least now Rick didn't have to witness Daryl pine for you from afar, and Rosita didn't have to deal with you talking about him all the time and never doing anything. And what better entertainment was there than matchmaking during the end of the world. 
Rick, who had placed a bet that Rosita's plan wouldn't work, pulled out her winnings from his jacket pocket, placing the chocolate bar in her hand, which she received with a smug smile. He really thought it would take Daryl a bit longer to lock this down, but this is what he gets for doubting his brother, and Rosita's matchmaking skills.
"As promised," He uttered in his southern drawl. "A bet well won."
"Thank youuuu Grimes," Rosita remarked sarcastically while tearing open the wrapper.
A few short seconds of comfortable silence passed before Rick spoke up with a genuine smile instead of his usual grin.
"It's nice to see them happy, they deserve it."
Rosita finished chewing her mouthful and swallowed to reply.
"Yeah. they do.... and so do you."
"Oh no, I know where this is going." If Rosita brought up Michonne one more time, he swore to God.
"Soooooo.... Michonne?"
"Goodbye Rosita." Rick had enough of this.
"Aww, c'mon! hear me out! So, she has been complaining about the lack of toothpaste, and I was thinking..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N
sorry this took so long to write, School sucks, and yadda yadda. To be honest, I just lost the motivation to write for a long time. I have shit grammar and my spelling is a hit or miss. English is IN FACT my first language, although you wouldn't be able to tell that from my writing. No amount of Grammarly can help me at this point, Fuck formatting anyway. No beta, we die like the show's ratings after season 7. Please enjoy and be sure to point out any mistakes in the comments so I can fix them.
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wtfsteveharrington · 2 years
Text
put away my pride / roommate!steve harrington x reader 
contents: requested - mutual masturbation where reader’s vibrator dies so they get a helping hand. i changed up the ask a lil but hopefully this still works! 
roommate steve finds you flustered and on the hunt for batteries and wants to help take care of your bad mood. 
if you squint there’s a bit of perv!steve energy. female masturbation w/ toy, mutual masturbation, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, a hint of cum play. a lil praise kink for steve. 
author’s note: this was meant to be pwp then steve harrington’s chokehold came back strong so SOME plot was made. no reader pronouns included nor body descriptors outside of fleshy/soft skin references.
word count: almost 4.6k
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Steve would never tell you this to keep you from getting embarrassed - but the walls in your apartment are thin. And you? Well... You can be a little loud sometimes, much to his surprise. 
Not just you, but late at night there’s this faint mechanical buzzing he can hear that keeps him up. He’s tried moving his bed to a different wall, tried asking if you could hear him rustling around at night, tried everything he could think of. 
Alas. 
You wait until it’s late enough that you’re sure he has to be asleep, pulling your heavy comforter over your naked body and getting yourself comfortable back on the bed. It’s been over a month since Robin had dragged you two towns over to go to some sex shop, getting the two of you matching vibrators because she was too embarrassing to get one by herself. 
It sat in the box under your bed for over a week until one day you were so frustrated and needed an outlet. 
You’d been on edge the whole day and didn’t have the energy to tease yourself tonight. The toy hums to life under the blanket and you quickly think up some plot to keep yourself entertained before bringing the toy towards your clit. If you had been more present you might have noticed that it sounded weaker than normal, but you weren’t. 
The toy had, maybe, 3 minutes of life left. Even in your needy state, three minutes wasn’t nearly enough. You hear it start to slow down, muttering out a string of panicked profanities as the toy gives out on you. 
You’re flabbergasted, pulling the blanket off your heated frame which sends the toy tumbling somewhere across the room. A problem for later. You had told yourself to pick up batteries on the way home but forgot and were now paying the price. 
Stumbling around your dark room you pull a shirt from the pile of laundry in the corner and begin your hunt because surely there’s two batteries hiding somewhere in this apartment. You’d steal them from a different appliance if it came down to it. You’re turning the corner into the kitchen and letting out a small scream because - 
“Holy fuck, you’re awake!” 
Steve’s standing in front of the sink with a glass of water in his hands. Truthfully? He’s a vision. Shirtless with these light blue sweatpants sitting low on his hips, hair a crazy mess, and you refuse to let your eyes linger too long but you could swear there was a bit of a bulge under those damn sweats. “Couldn’t sleep.. What are you doing up?” You’re cursing yourself for not throwing on shorts or cleaning yourself up before heading this way because you’re pretty sure he could hear why you’re up if you take a step. Still on edge and wet and he looks so pretty that it’s not helping. 
You’re walking over towards the sink, pulling out the junk drawer next to it and digging through on a mission. This night had already become significantly more frustrating than you anticipated and this wasn’t going to help. “Just uh, - Noticed my alarm clock was dead. Wanted to get new batteries in it so I don’t oversleep.” Steve’s chuckling into his water, giving the energy that he knows something you don’t. Normally it would annoy you but tonight you’re too focused. 
Where are they? 
Everything in the drawer is getting slammed on the counter. The batteries surely have to be rolling around somewhere in there. Steve’s leaning in closer to you, heat rolling off his body and the combination of everything is starting to make you dizzy. “What do you need? AA’s? Hate to break it to you but I took the last of ‘em for our TV remote.” Fuck. You’re gripping the edge of the drawer, leaning over it and trying to take a deep breath to calm yourself down. 
Steve’s hand is on your lower back and he’s trying to reassure you with the touch yet little does he realize that it’s making your problem so much worse. “Wanna borrow my alarm? I don’t work until two tomorrow... Pretty sure I’ll be up before that.” You’re throwing everything back into the drawer, tears burning the edge of your eyes because you’re so frustrated. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight now. Won’t matter.” 
Maybe you’re being a little dramatic but nothing’s worse than being so close and having it ripped away without a solution in sight. Yeah, you could use your fingers but it’s not the same. His hand’s giving your back a small squeeze while he sits his glass in the sink. 
“What’s got you this worked up, huh? Anything I can do to help?” 
It feels like there’s something laced in his words but you can’t decide if it’s actually there or your brain is imagining it due to your current state.
He’s turning to face you, bare chest pressed against the side of your arm. Your cheeks are burning up and you can’t believe how much you’re falling apart from not being able to finish. Between the vibrator dying and the way you can smell how minty Steve’s breath is from brushing his teeth and the way his chest hair is tickling you with each deep breath he takes... 
“Robin convinced me I needed this stupid vibrator and I kept telling myself I needed to get batteries after work for it because I’m practically -” You toss your hands up in the air with a scoff and you know you need to shut up but you can’t help yourself, “I’m addicted to using it. Like, fully addicted, Steve. All I wanted to do after this long ass day is lay back and make myself cum but now I’m standing in the kitchen looking crazy. I can only imagine what you’re thinking of me right now.” 
You can practically feel how entertained he is. Lopsided grin as his hand presses deeper into your back. The pressure brings out this small moan from you that Steve’s not quite sure he didn’t imagine. 
“M’not judging you. Trust me.” 
Your shirt’s getting pulled up ever so slightly by his motions and he’s trying so hard not to look down and take in each inch of exposed skin. “I uh, - I could help. If you want me to, yanno? Getting girls off is one of the few things I’m good at and I don’t want you to suffer like this when I could easily take the edge off.” Blame how late it was for, blame the countless nights he’s spent listening to you moan in the other room... 
Steve’s now cupping the back of your thigh, sliding up until you feel his thumb brush across the bottom of your ass. His lips are ghosting over the shirt covering your shoulder and you can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like on your skin. You whimper out this pathetic sound as he begins to knead at your tender flesh, pushing your hips back into his touch. The past few years have toughened up his hands. His grip is stronger, the pads of his fingers and palms not nearly as soft as you were used to from the boys you’ve been with in the past. 
Plus, not to mention, it felt different because this was Steve touching you, after all.
“Gotta give me something... Tell me to stop if this is too much and I will. We’ll get you the batteries out of the remote and never talk about this again.” You barely let him finish before you’re turning your head to finally face him, leaning in to brush your lips along his. “Need you to take care of me. Please.” He’s bumping his nose on yours, sliding his hand forward and giving you with a moan at the feeling of how slick your thighs were. 
“Jesus Christ.”
You gasp as his fingers find their way between your folds, taking a small side step closer to him to give his wrist more space to move. The step has your thigh pressing along his crotch, now it’s both of you who are moaning at the sensation. Steve ruts his hips up towards you at the same time he push his hand forward to fully cup you, crooking his middle finger so it’s tracing the outer part of your folds. You finally lean in, connecting your lips in a kiss that’s messy and loud and so needy.
He adds his pointer finger to the mix, lightly applying pressure against your hole. You can feel yourself clenching at the touch, rocking your hips down on him. Pulling back from the kiss, lips glossy, you watch as the motion of your hips both works you up from the added pressure between your thighs and you can feel him getting harder on your side. The combination of all these sensations is making you lose all train of thought. This is crazy, isn’t it? 
“Need to cum, Steve. Can you make me do that?” 
“Yeah... Fuck, yeah, I can do that.” His hair is flopping down in his face as he nods his head along with his words, but that doesn’t stop him from watching your expression as he finally dips his index finger into you.
You’re gripping at his arm with one hand, his muscles flexing under your touch while the the other grips the counter for some sense of stability. Lips ghosting over each others as you gasp at the feeling. His thumb’s dragging along your clit at the same time he slips his middle finger inside of you too.
Steve’s finally kissing you and every nerve in your body instantly lights on fire. His lips are warm, more gentle than you expected. There’s a part of you that’s convinced you could cum from just his fingers and this kiss alone considering everything else that happened tonight. Both of you savor each time the other moans into the kiss. 
You bring your hand to his chest, sliding it up through the patch hair then reaching down to toy with the waistband of his sweatpants. “Can I touch you?” He’s chuckling against your mouth, giving a small nod while reaching around to cup the back of your neck. In all honesty, Steve would let you do anything to him. Tilting your head just right so he can deepen the kiss at the same time your hand slips into his pants.
Running your fingers through the patch of hair, dragging your nails against the skin, the combination making him buck his hips up towards your touch. His hand starts picking up the pace, scissoring his fingers deep inside of you to stretch you out. Not that he’s expecting anything more than this… But just in case he wants you to be prepared.
Your hand goes lower, his length hard against your palm. He’s rocking himself towards your touch, lips parted against yours but there’s too much going on for him to be able to keep up with kissing for now. You wrap your hand around him, cursing yourself for not getting something to act like lube before you got this far. Nonetheless, Steve’s fucking himself into your fist, enjoying the drag and friction your dry hand provides.
The two of you work each other like that, a mess of needy touches and sloppy kissing. You’re pretty sure the both of you could finish like this if you gave it another five minutes.
Steve has other plans.
You feel the vibrations through his chest as he groans next to you, pulling your lip back gently with his teeth and slowing his motions between your thighs.
“So fucking wet. Let me clean you up... Gonna feel so much better.” 
He’s fully pulling away from you, eyes hooded and his lips swollen. Falling to his knees in front of you and using a firm grip on your waist to turn your body so your back’s now against the counter.
Steve’s ducking his head under your shirt. You can feel him alternating between kissing your inner thigh and dragging his tongue over your heated skin as he gets closer to your core. He knows how badly you need him, a feeling that has his ego sent to the moon, but he’s not sure if this will happen again so he’s going to savor it while he can.  
This damn drawer handle behind you continues to press into your hip. A stray thought passing through that holy shit you’re gonna be left with some insane bruises tomorrow. You barely have time to process that when Steve’s pulling all your attention back to him.
“You ever think about me when you fuck yourself?”
The question makes you gasp, throwing your head back as if not looking at him makes it better. How do you even answer this without sounding insane? His thumb is pressing firmly against your clit as if to punctuate his question before continuing when you don’t instantly answer, “Have you? Because I’ve thought about you. Know I shouldn’t but sometimes I can’t help myself.” 
Your hips jolt back as his thumb now swirls your clit, “Yes. Sometimes you come home and I can tell your date didn’t go well... I’ll lay in bed and think about you using me instead of your fist.”
He doesn’t respond, instead rewarding you by finally leaning in and pressing a kiss to the left of your clit, the right, above it, then wrapping his lips around the nub while starting to move his fingers still buried inside of you. 
You’re lacing your fingers in his hair, knees getting weaker by the second as you rock your hips towards his mouth. He’s lapping at your hole, letting his tongue just push in to tease you before showing your clit love too. You feel his fingers at your core now, one sliding inside of you once again while he sucks at your clit. He’s already worked you up, he knows one won’t do, so before you can even register there’s another finger being pushed in with the first one.
Steve’s fingers are dragging inside of you, a firm pressure along your walls, bending them to press down just right and - “Steve, fuck. Gonna cum if you keep that up.” That’s all the encouragement he needed to keep up that pace, continue tracing over your clit with his tongue at the same time. Flicking it against the nub, moaning into your sensitive skin. 
There’s something about Steve Harrington kneeling on the kitchen floor, ignoring his own hard cock, and eating you out better than anyone else...
You’re tightening your grip on his hair, hips twitching as your orgasm builds deep in your stomach. He’s not backing off. Bottom lip dragging along your folds as he moves to suck your clit in between his lips now. You’re choking out his name, pressing your thighs tight around his head and throwing back your head as your climax hits. 
Steve licks you through your orgasm, humming into your sensitive core as he works away. His grip on your waist is the only thing keeping you upright as your body starts to go limp, overwhelmed and exhausted from the night’s events. You can feel him sit your feet on the cold kitchen floor but you both know your thighs are shaking too bad for you to support yourself. 
He’s chuckling to himself, admiring how much he was able to get you to fall apart before helping you jump backwards onto the counter. Maybe you shouldn’t be up there bare assed, neither of you particularly care at the moment. 
As your body comes down from it’s high, you start to really notice how much Steve has given you without asking for a single thing in return. He’s straining against his sweats, shifting uncomfortably, cheeks turning rosy. 
You wave him closer, giving him a sleepy and haphazard grin as he steps between your legs. He’s going to excuse himself to the bathroom or claim he needs to sleep... Make up something so he can go take care of himself.
Steve’s lost his train of thought as you brush your fingers alongside the top of his cock. You’re taking mental notes - slight curve, thick vein to the left of where you’re touching, his hips keep jerking when you gently rake your nails against his length. There’s a thick tension in the air that’s sending a shiver down your spine, the motion not going unnoticed. Both of you know you should probably go to bed, but Steve deserves more than a night of jacking off in his bed, right? 
The question comes out before you can even register what you’re about to say. 
“Do you wanna fuck me?” 
Steve’s cock twitches beneath your fingers and you can hear his breath get stuck in his throat. He starts rocking himself into your hand and if you scoot up a little more - The head of his cock is now flush against your core. You watch as he grabs a hold of himself, dragging his tip through your folds and shuddering at how wet and warm and God he wants to sink into you so bad. 
“Don’t know if I can fuck you just once. Think I’m gonna get addicted.” 
Which makes you giggle. A lot. 
You’ve seen him through all his phases, from King Steve to hopeless Steve, and you never once pictured that you would be his undoing. You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning in to press a kiss to his brow, his nose, his cheek, all the way until you’re kissing under his ear and - 
“Make me yours then.”
Steve bites down on his bottom lip and has to take a moment or he’s running the risk of ruining this for both of you. He’s tapping himself on your clit one last time before lining himself up, meeting your eye and watching your expression as he starts to inch in. Your face scrunches up as you give Steve this gaspy moan that he’ll never forget. Once he’s fully buried inside of you, there’s a hand clutching at your hip while the other comes to cup the back of your neck. 
“Feels good?” There’s more pressure on him to get this right with you. You’re nodding instantly, tightening your arms around his neck to pull him closer. Some of the tension in the air being replaced with nerves as it hits you both that holy shit you’re fucking on the kitchen counter. “Yeah, feels really good. Do you, Stevie? Feel good?” 
He’s giving you this goofy little smile, giving an experimental rock of his hips. “Feels - shit... Feels amazing.” Stopping short of telling you that he’s already pretty sure you were the best thing he’s ever felt. That might be a little too much. 
Steve’s lips drag across yours, moaning into your mouth as he starts to build up a rhythm. Slow, deep strokes. He’s a little caught up in his own thoughts - Trying to make sure he doesn’t do too much since you’re still sensitive, trying to show off for you after years of talking up how good he was, trying desperately not to make a fool of himself.
You stroke along his chin before letting your hands fall down his chest. “Too much going on in that pretty head of yours.” Tightening your legs around his waist and digging your heels into his ass so he’s bottoming out in you. He’s choking out a moan, hips instinctively rocking the best they can against the pressure you’re putting on his body. 
“Wanna do a good job - Wanna impress you.”
His hips buck deeper, making the two of you moan in unison. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers lacing in his hair as you drag him into another kiss. The two of you haven’t learned the other yet, how you both like to kiss and be kissed, so it’s sloppier than you wanted but it gets the job done. Steve’s grabbing onto your hip with one hand, clutching the counter with the other for stability as he deepens his motions. 
You whimper at the new sensation, thighs losing their hold on his frame as he fucks into you with a new passion. Muttering out a broken string of praises and pleas as he chases his own orgasm. Steve’s burying his face in your neck, all you can hear anymore is the sound of him moaning mixed with his shaky breathing right by your ear. 
“Wanna impress me, Baby? Can you come for me? Know you want to so bad... Show me how good I feel.” 
You’re not totally sure where this side of you is coming from, but you know you did something right when Steve brokenly grunts out your name and his hips start to lose their pace. You start clenching yourself around his length, sneaking a hand between your bodies to toy with your own clit. It’s rare you finish during sex, yet here Steve was making you think you could come twice. 
He’s pulling away from your neck, lips finding yours with a feverish intensity you weren’t expecting. It’s needy, primal even. You’re whimpering into the kiss, dragging your nails along Steve’s back with the hand that’s not between your thighs. It hits you by surprise, that tension building up once again as you cry out Steve’s name. 
It takes every ounce of strength for him to not finish deep inside of you as you come undone. Instead he’s pulling out once he feels you relax, choking out your name as he strokes himself through his orgasm, watching as each drop lands against your fucked out pussy. Admiring how pretty you look like this, how much he likes when you look like you belong to him. He’s unwrapping his fingers from his cock, reaching forward without thinking to collect the mixture of you both. Thick on his fingers, he’s making eye contact with you for a moment before looking pointedly down at your lips. 
You part your lips, eyes focused on his as Steve’s fingers now weigh heavy against your tongue. Getting right to work cleaning him up, moaning at the way you two taste together. His eyes gloss over, pulling his fingers from your mouth then stealing one last kiss.
The two of you stay close for a few minutes, both trying to catch your breath and simultaneously letting the reality of the situation settle in. His forehead is pressed against yours. His hands lazily sliding along your thighs while yours are firm on his back.
Holy shit.
You just fucked Steve.  
He silently gets to work cleaning the two of you up. Taking a moment to ponder between using a kitchen towel or a paper towel to wipe you down with - finally deciding that the paper towel was probably cleaner. He’s delicate with you. Catching your eye and waiting for the small nod of permission before reaching out to wipe your inner thighs. You grip his shoulder as he wipes at your core, heat rising to your cheeks before giggling out some apology about still being sensitive.
As if you need to apologize.
You watch, entranced by seeing him this up close, as he twists his head, pressing a small kiss to your fingers still resting on him, then stepping back and out of your touch. He toss the paper towels away before moving to grab the discarded cup of water from earlier. Filling it under the tap while he yanks up his pants much to your disappointment. It’s not an uncomfortable silence… Just the two of you trying to navigate what the hell comes next.
Steve takes a long drink of water and you let your eyes linger on the way a droplet finds its way down his adam’s apple before disappearing into the hair on his chest. Now that you’ve finally let yourself truly look at him, not just keep your guard up against admiring him... “You’re pretty, Steve Harrington.” 
He’s blushing, choking a bit on his last sip of water. The half full glass is being offered your way and you use taking a drink of it to mask your entertainment at the sight of how flustered he got. Steve’s wiping his mouth with the back of his hand then reaches over to squeeze your knee. “You’re not too bad on the eyes either.” 
The glass is taken out of your hands once it’s empty, so you take that as your signal to hop off the counter. “We gotta deep clean this kitchen tomorrow. No way I’m gonna cook off these counters until I know we’re both off of them.” Now Steve would laugh, but you way overestimated how steady your legs were and land on the floor too unstable for your own good. You can hear him laughing behind you at the sight, reaching out to hold your waist and keep you steady.
You both start stumbling down the hallway, a mess of laughter and jokes and getting comfortable with each other once again. It’s not until you hit your bedroom door that you realize... What comes next? Is it bold of you to assume you two would sleep together? Does Steve even want to sleep next to you?
Glancing between the door, back at Steve, and towards his bedroom door - You decide to leave the decision up to him. 
Easily navigating your dark room, you find your way to the bed and make a show of scooting all the way against the wall. Your door is still open, there’s plenty of space for Steve, it’s the best invite he could possibly get. So imagine your surprise when there’s nothing more than silence at the door before you hear him start to make his way towards his own room. 
Not even a goodnight? 
You sigh into the pillow, pulling your blanket tight around your body while squeezing your eyes shut. What the hell was that? 
The fact that he didn’t even say goodnight was close to sending you into an overthinking spell - If it weren’t for the fact that seconds later you hear his bare feet padding down the hallway and Steve’s bursting into your room. “You always take up so much blanket I needed my own.” 
“I do not! You always get hot while you sleep and kick it off, not my fault if I take advantage.” 
He’s kicking something across the room, wincing in pain and stopping himself right before getting in bed. You can just make out him squinting and - “Holy shit, I think I just kicked your vibrator. Why was it so hard? I thought they would be like kinda squishy?” You’re squealing, pulling the blanket over your head to try and hide from the embarrassment. 
“Steve Harrington! Shut up and get in bed or I’m going to lock you out!”
The bed dips besides you, Steve laughing while he wiggles his way under your blanket and draping his own across the two of you. “Fine, fine, Jesus Christ don’t lose your mind.” He’s pulling you into his chest, pressing a string of soft kisses against your shoulder. The two of you falling asleep easily. 
Just know - Steve still wakes up with neither blanket in the morning. 
8K notes · View notes
onginlove · 5 months
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a little drabble
black!fem!reader x 42!miles
——————-
you walked into miles’ room, unannounced, seeing he was already busy with a little screwdriver in his hand working on a new gadget. you’ve known he was the prowler ever since you barged in on him laying on the floor in pain due to the mission he was just on.
“hey m&m!” you called out to him, startling him  as he looked your direction to see you standing at his doorframe.
“hey ma. i didn’t know you was coming over.” 
“well surprise!”
you walk closer to him and see all his little pieces he’s putting together. “whatcha making?” you ask as you closely examine his hand movements.
“oh nothin, same old’ stuff.” 
“what does this one do?” 
“it’s supposed to take out any electrical appliance.” 
“so, it can turn off your light?”
“never thought of it that way but, basically.”
as you admire his work and what he has done so far, you take a look at all the other gadgets he has on his self. he always tells his mom it’s for a ‘robotics project’ but that’s just a cover for what he actually does with them.
“can i help you out?”
“help me out like how?”
“yk, i wanna add a piece on your gadget.”
“sure.” he finds a piece on the table to give to you and demonstrates where is has to go and what you do with it. as you put the piece in its designated spot, the object lights up a pretty purple.
“now, im almost done.”
“yk, you can do so much more with your skill.” 
“like?”
“discover time travel, or maybe even travel different dimensions.”
all he could do was laugh. time travel and going to different dimensions was nearly impossible for even the best scientists to exist, but he liked the way you thought he could do that.
“what if in a different universe there is a superhero called spiderman.”
“spiderman? really? that’s the best you got?”
“it could happen!”
“and what’s spiderman’s powers?”
“uhh, climb walls, ooh maybe shoot webs out his culito!”
he chuckles “sure.”
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bisexualiteaa · 5 days
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Mornings Like These
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Cooper Howard x Fem Reader
CW: slightly NSFW, established relationship, mentions of sex, sexual daydream, OOC Cooper, Cooper in a frilly apron cooking, cursing, slight deviance from the canon, more domestic Cooper because 🥹❤️
AN: Had the most wonderful request to do something a little different than what I’m used to! I know it’s out of character for our cowboy ghoul but I just loved the concept. This is a continuation of my last work, so it is set in the same Fallout TV series and Fallout 4 tense. Breakfast is served my lovely Cooper simps, hope I did your ask justice @morrrrow !! Hope y’all enjoy!
“God damn this fuckin’ thing” spoke the ever recognizable southern twang of Cooper from the kitchen. You woke up to hearing a few pots and pans clank together as he removed them from the cabinet, and his not so quiet curses in frustration that he was a man who failed at being quiet. Outside of bounty hunting of course. You were still in bed, having just barely woken up as the sun poured in through the windows, making you rub the sleep from your eyes. You padded into the kitchen to see what all the noise was about, seeing him trying to work the stove that you both bought off of someone that was supposed to be repaired and in working order. “What a fuckin’ rip off” he said angrily as he threw the towel down on the floor that was resting on his shoulder, then leaned over the sink to breathe, doing his best to try to control his anger before he started breaking things. “Stove givin’ ya trouble, hun?” You asked, your voice carrying a sleepy rasp to it as a small playful smile stretched to your lips, making him look over at you. In that moment, it was as if all the anger inside of him had just melted away upon seeing you, clad in just a tank top and underwear, hair slightly messy from sleep. You were truly a sight to behold at all hours of the day in his eyes. “Shit, I’m sorry darlin’. I wanted t’ surprise you with breakfast but this damn thing won’t work. Shoulda known it was a fat load a shit when he said it was workin’” he replied, defeat and agitation still evident in his tone, making you walk closer to him and grab his hand. “Hey, it’s okay, Coop. I think it’s mighty sweet you wanted t’ do that. Can I take a look? Maybe a fresh set’a eyes can help?” You asked, watching as his shoulders dropped a little bit as the tension left him at your touch, a small smile reaching his thin, marred lips as he looked down at his girl. “Go ‘head” he replied, starting to follow you and what you were trying to do but you stopped him before he could do anything. “*You* have a seat and relax, I’ll take a look, ‘kay?” you said, your hands resting on his shoulders to make sure he listened to you, knowing well and good his stubbornness was his biggest attribute. He gave a grunt before giving in, recognizing that you just wanted him to relax after being all worked up. “I’ll take care of it, promise. I’m a big girl, but if I need anythin’ I’ll holler for ya” you said, smiling up at him sweetly once more as you rubbed his shoulders a little before kissing him softly. His hands rested on your hips for a moment as you kissed, and in that moment, everything felt at peace in the world. As you parted from the kiss, you turned and moved out of his way before coming to take a look at the new appliance. Well, maybe not *new* but new for post war standards. You took a look at the wiring, noticing that it looked pretty good for a shit box that survived a nuclear bomb or two. No rust, no corrosion, hell even the paint didn’t look half bad. Cooper knew he had to get it for you the moment your pretty eyes lit up with excitement upon seeing it, going on about how much you missed making homemade pies, casseroles, and bread. He knew you were one hell of a cook with the passion you put into making some iguana, or even your famous stew he’d grown to love that was made from just about anything you could get your hands on. He swore you put some kind of drugs in your food with the way he craved it all the time, he’d joke that you could put cyanide in it and still manage to make it taste delicious. And that was just over a fire, he could only imagine the creations you’d put out if given the right materials. Seeing you working a stove, in a house that was starting to get pretty settled into, would be one step closer to the dream of having a domestic life with you when the rest of the world had gone to shit. He wanted to see you happy, because when you were happy, everything was alright in the world in his book.
You opened the door to the stove, bent over and examining the inside for any reason as to why it wasn’t working. The broiler seemed good, all the coils were there, nothing was rusted or corroded so you weren’t quite sure what the issue was. Cooper however, was in a whole other world looking at you. Had he been the man he was before meeting you, he’d have had half the mind to fuck you right then and there while your body was half way in the oven. He gave a groan at his own daydream, watching you with your ass in the air, clad in just the panties you were wearing, making him shift in the small, dining room chair he was sitting on as his pants began to grown uncomfortably tight. You always had a way of getting to him, whether you meant to or not, that man stayed feral for you all hours of the day. He wondered if your moans would be muffled or amplified with your head stuck in the oven, how you’d squeeze him tight with the slight sensory depravation. What he really wanted was the memory to play in your mind each time you’d use it, for you to bend down and remember the way he used you in that same position as you’d slide a casserole in the oven. He was broken from his daydream when you called his name, finding that you were no longer in the kitchen but outside checking the power source. He stood up and walked towards the front door, leaning in the open doorway as you stood outside, looking to him with a relieved smile as you found the solution. “Was wonderin’ why it was so hot in there” you thought out loud, explaining that it was a problem with the power source, not the stove itself before flipping a few switches and connecting a few wires then hearing your electricity hum back to life. “‘s ‘cause you’re here” he joked flirtatiously, sending a wink and a smirk your way, making you giggle. “Wasn’t the stove, was the power. Radstorm must’ve knocked it out last night” you said as you both came back inside, plugging the stove back in and sure as shit, it turned on. You dusted your hands off, standing there proudly in front of your new, working oven. He was thoroughly impressed. “Well I’ll be damned, when’d you get so handy?” Cooper asked with a teasing grin, making you smile as he looped an arm around your waist proud that his little lady was able to fix the problem. “Since I had to start fixin’ things ‘fore you break ‘em” you teased, coming up to kiss his cheek as he swatted your ass affectionately in retaliation.
“Ya know, before you start cookin’ I have the perfect thing for you to wear” you said, slipping from his grasp for only a moment, making him raise a brow at you as you giggled and treaded into the closet of what you called your bedroom. You opened it, finding a frilly white apron you used to own back in the day when you would bake and cook everything by hand at home. You smiled as you grabbed it, knowing full and well you’d have hell to pay for this little stunt, but when has that ever stopped you before? So you snatched it up, leaving it folded before coming back into the kitchen and handing it to him. “A good cook needs a good apron, and I just know this one would look damn good on you” you said, handing it to him with the most mischievous glint in your eyes and grin stretched to your lips, leaving him to unfold it and look it over. Now this was where you were expecting to get in some serious shit. To hear a chide comment or a “never in a million years, sugar” but no, this man looked at you like you’d handed him a challenge, and he was going to take it in stride. So with a smirk, he set it aside and started to shake his duster off from his frame. “I’ll do ya one better there, little lady” he said, that look in his eyes told you he was up to no good and it had you curious. He started working his shirt off and you’d be damned if you weren’t enjoying the sight of him shirtless and just in his pants, the decorative buckle on his belt helping him maintain that rugged cowboy look. He noticed your stares, giving a dry chuckle. “Like whatchya see, sweetheart?” He asked, his voice dipping a little lower but he didn’t need you to say anything, he already knew the answer. “Always” you replied, a half lidded expression on your face as your tone dripped with something a little less pure. What you really hadn’t been expecting was when you saw him take his pants and briefs off before you, a slack jawed grin coming to your mouth as he tied the apron around his frame. Completely naked underneath. You gave a laugh as you watched him wear it with pride. “You sir, never fail to surprise me” you said, making him chuckle but you spotted the tent that started to poke at the apron where he was getting hard underneath. “Think you’re right, it’s a pretty good look” he said, turning to face away from you and you gave that same crude whistle he’d always give you when he liked something you wore or did, because you had an eye full of ass standing right in front of you. You walked up and stood behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso and laying kisses to his shoulder and back. “On second thought, who needs breakfast when you look this good? Hell, I think you pull it off better than I ever did” you said through a giggle, feeling him swat at your grabby hands the way you do when he gets handsy with you. “Can’t disturb a chef when he’s cookin’, sugar” he said coyly, making you chuckle as he started frying a few slices of Cram in the skillet. “Oh but you can disturb me when I’m doin’ laundry? I see how it is” You said playfully as you took a seat down at the dinner table you two found, it wasn’t much, but it was nice all things considered. Gave that homey touch that was missing from the house when you two first put together the settlement. You watched as he romped around the kitchen, going out of his way to put on a show for you and get you as worked up as you make him. “You are such a tease” you said, making him grin as he had his back turned to you, fully focused on making a good breakfast for the two of you to enjoy. “Welcome to my world, sweetheart” he said, making you laugh. You could certainly get used to this.
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scarlettohairdye · 4 days
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Home Ownership Was a Mistake
This is for @trickybonmot, who may or may not use some of these stories in a fic.
Okay. So.
In the year of our lord 2010, my wife and I were lucky enough to be gifted $20k by my parents, which in those days (given it was a historically low point for real estate prices in Seattle) was enough for a down payment on a house. It was an astounding confluence of luck and privilege that led to us being homeowners, because if they gave us the same money now it would go precisely nowhere.
Anyway, it was not enough money for a large house, or a fancy house. We looked at a lot of places, only some of which were move-in ready (and one of which was absolutely just a tear-down) and eventually settled on our current place, which is a 1910 bungalow with a detached garage that was finished and turned into a studio.
Was it the most aesthetically pleasing house when we bought it? No. The walls were white, the carpet was light beige, and the paint had seen better days. That said, it was move-in ready and the owner was pretty desperate to sell, so we took it!
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The inspector let us know that some of the wiring was still the old knob-and-tube, so we'd want that updated sooner rather than later, but it looked pretty good. About half the outlets were grounded, so it didn't stop us from plugging in three-prong appliances. We just had to use more extension cords than maybe we'd prefer.
The Electrical
The first big house thing we paid for was to have the entire place rewired. Our circuit breaker was a mystery, we didn't have enough outlets, and we were tired of being stuck with specific layouts of our stuff due to the lack of grounded outlets. We were expecting about half the wiring to be up to code, and the rest would need an update.
Spoiler alert: HAHAHAHAHAHA.
The rewiring took about a week, and every morning the electrician sat down with us and told us what new fire trap he'd uncovered.
"Yeah, so the knob and tube wiring going to the lights in the ceiling? Knob and tube gets hot when it's running, and yours is under three layers of insulation."
"You know how you thought your outlets were grounded? They weren't, actually, the ground wire just went elsewhere into the house and wasn't connected to anything."
"So there's wiring in your crawlspace? Whoever put that in nailed some sheets of wood paneling over it, so we had to rip the wood paneling out to access it."
I think the job was about $15k when it was done, we had many many more outlets, and our house was no longer one bad day from lighting itself on fire. Victory, I guess?
The Studio Window
This was leaking a bit, and we knew it was leaking when we moved in. (South facing walls get all the weather in our region.) We were not handy enough to replace it ourselves at the time and we also didn't have money because I got laid off shortly after we bought the house and was making my living doing costume commissions. Solution: Trade costuming work to an acquaintance who did carpentry.
The window, we discovered, was not so much a finished window as it was a single sheet of glass sandwiched between some boards.
Badly.
The carpenter was not entirely she that she was qualified for the job, but she did manage to remove the single sheet of glass and replace it with a window that was insulated and actually capable of opening. She used caulk around it. It was way better than we had before. Maybe someday we'll have both studio windows replaced by a contractor who actually does windows, but this is not that day!
The Siding
The cedar shingles were no longer cutting it at a certain point, so we had the house resided. (Houses are money pits, in case you didn't know.) This was a $30k job (MONEY PIT!) and had several layers of badness.
Bad: Our house had no insulation. It was cedar shingles over the original siding, with nothing in between that original siding and our INTERIOR WALLS. There was occasionally a newspaper. Our PM asked if we wanted insulation? And we said yes, please!!! We did not have a lot of time to think about insulation or research the best type, so it's just sheets of the pink fiberglass stuff in there, but it exists and we have it now!
Worse: Underneath our laundry room was a horrorshow. The laundry room is an addition that was added to our house probably sometime in the 50s? And, uh...
Well, the siding guys pulled off the siding, took a look at what was under it, and immediately called the project manager. The project manager came out, took a look, and then called us. He said that the siding guys thought it really needed to be reinforced and stabilized before they re-sided it, which is very fair, because I think the people who built it originally were drunk when they did it. It was a fucking Wild West cowboy construction situation under there.
Yes, you heard that right: A LOAD-BEARING SHINGLE.
Our project manager also informed us that the siding guys couldn't do the reinforcement, because they're just siding guys. They don't do structural. This is very fair.
It also needed to be done by Monday so we could stay on schedule for the siding work.
We learned this on Friday.
I immediately called my general contractor dad and got his voicemail, because (I remembered belatedly) he was in Mexico getting dental surgery. There was absolutely no way we could get another contractor out to do the work over a single weekend.
It was up to us.
My wife and I (mostly my wife) went HAM on it. We rented big jacks from the tool library to prop the laundry room up while we replaced one of the entirely rotten support poles. One of the big telephone poles was so wrecked with dry rot we could kick it out of place. (It didn't even touch the BIG ROCK that was supposed to be its foundation!!! It was floating!!!) Several of the joists were also fucked, so we ran new joists alongside them and married them together. My wife dug holes while crouched in a 4' high space, filled the holes with gravel, compacted it by putting a piece of wood on top of it and hitting it with a mallet, and then installed an entire additional support system from 4x4s and deck blocks. She actually attached the support system TO THE FUCKING HOUSE, which was a big improvement from the way it was originally held on by vibes and paint.
Here's a tasty little before and after:
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(Yeah, see how that visible joist at the front just... stops at the far left? There's a new joist right behind it now.)
This was completed with resounding cries of, "Good enough!" and "It's better than it was before!" The siding guys thought it was fine and sided over it. Someday hopefully we will be able to afford to tear the whole thing down and rebuild it with a properly poured foundation, but in the meantime the spin cycle on the washing machine no longer shakes the whole house. Victory?!
Ridiculous: The purple paint saga. My wife and I are lesbians who tend toward maximalism in our decoration style. Construction companies find this baffling. We paid extra to our siding company to get the extended color choices (if you order the siding with the color baked in it lasts longer, but you're limited to a particular range of colors) and spoiler alert: 90% of them are boring as fuck. We basically paid extra to have access to 400 shades of white and 400 more shades of beige. There were like three saturated colors in the whole book. Pathetic.
Anyway, we chose the one nice teal that was available and decided we'd paint the door purple, since all the purple colors were gray at best. The project manager then forgot to put in our order, and when he remembered he'd forgotten, ordering our siding through his company would have pushed back the start time by six weeks. We could still make the original start time if we ordered through a different company doing the same thing, though!
Me, immediately: And we wouldn't be restricted to your color palette, right? Him: Yeah, they can do custom colors. Me, slapping down a color card called "Fully Purple": MAKE IT PURPLE.
Bless this man, he went to the siding company and asked for Fully Purple. They told him they couldn't do that color, and also is he sure anyone wants this color? He called them on the phone and informed them yes, we did want that color, and also that he'd worked for them and he knew damn well they could do that color, they'd just have to custom mix it, so they needed to do their fucking jobs. Suitably chastened, they finally sent us a sample of the siding, and it was... okay. It was purple for sure, but a little de-saturated. Not the purple of our hearts.
I asked if they'd actually started manufacturing our siding yet or just sent the color sample. The project manager confirmed they hadn't, and if we ordered this imperfectly-purple siding now, it would be several weeks before we could get started.
"We're gonna paint," I decided, and our project manager put in the orders.
The paint store called him and said, "Hey, are you sure you want this color?" Yes, he assured them, that's the right color.
The guys doing the painting opened up the can and then called him and said, "Are you sure this color?" and he told them yes! They want that color!
At this point I told him he should just start responding with, "They're lesbians!!! Yes! They want the purple! They're lesbians!!!"
Eventually we cleared every hurdle god and the construction industry put in front of us, and now our house is Fully Purple.
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It also has insulation, wiring that won't kill us, and a laundry room that hopefully won't collapse anytime soon. We got a heat pump installed that took shockingly little time and worked immediately, and our next project will be having the roof redone. Check back in to find out what fresh horror awaits us then! I think it'll be a second roof under our existing roof made of lead and asbestos tiles, probably!
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tinkerbelle05 · 8 months
Text
It's Ours
Characters: Jaime Reyes x Fem!reader
Genre: Fluff
Summary: You and Jaime move into your new apartment, but not without a few hiccups.
Warnings: showering together (it's nothing crazy but some ppl might be iffy about it)
Translations: Princesita = Princess
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“Okay, that’s the last of it,” Jaime huffed as he pulled the very last box into your new apartment with him. You clapped for him while he playfully bowed to you.
You and Jaime decided to move in together in a new apartment building. You were nervous but excited to start this new chapter of your life, especially with the man you loved.
The apartment wasn't much; one bedroom and bathroom. They have an AC unit and the appliances looked new so hopefully there won't be any issues with them. But you never know, especially with the older buildings.
“So, what you wanna eat?” Jaime asked you, phone in hand and he plopped on the couch next to you.
“Maybe we should unpack some boxes first?” You suggested. Yes, you were hungry but you knew yourself. The moment you were fed, you’d crash. And Jaime would be right behind you too.
He attempted to give you those puppy dog eyes but you shook your head, “No, no. We should at least set up our bed so we don’t sleep on the couch. And maybe unpack some of the bigger boxes.”
Jaime groaned and sunk deeper into the couch, “Princesita, please. For me?”
His pleading was cute but your resolve was stronger, “Oh c’mon Jai- Ahh!”
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw something move. It was small and black so it must be a bug. You saw it moving again, scurrying across the floor. You being scared of bugs, were whipped into a frenzy of course.
“Kill it! Kill it!” You screamed off the top of your lungs as you climbed higher up on the couch to get away from it.
Jaime got up and used a lone flip-flop to smash the bug to death.
“Okay, okay, It's dead. You’re okay,” he told you and attempted to contain his laughter but you saw it anyway.
“Don’t you dare laugh, Jaime! Those things are scary and gross!” You argued and he gives you that sweet smile.
After he disgraded the dreadful creature into the trash, Jaime came to sit to next to you. He pulled you into his arms and rested his head on yours.
You two stayed like that for a quiet moment, exhaustion deep into your bones. The sound was the cars outside and your neighbors’ tv.
“We should really put up a tv,” you suggested quietly.
Jaime gave you a breathless laugh, “Only you could think of more things to do even when you are tired. It's amazing.”
You sighed and sunk deeper into Jaime’s embrace, “Yea, your right and it’s getting late too.”
With all of the energy you could muster, you hauled yourself up from the warm embrace of Jaime and walked to the bathroom.
“I’m going to take a shower then head to bed, on the couch,” you said with a hint of disgust. “Can you pretty please look for some pjs for me?”
“Fine, fine. Only because your so cute.” He got up from the couch to look for some clothes for you.
Out of habit, you closed the door and undressed. You were excited for the steaming hot shower to touch your skin but unfortunately, what rained down on you was freezing cold water that probably came all the way from Antarctica.
You yelped when the water came into contact with your skin and jumped against the wall to get away from it. Bathroom door opened and Jaime came in with your clothes, he had a confused expression on his face.
“The shower is ice cold,” you explained to him. "We'll have to call the landlord tomorrow."
He came closer to the shower to put his hand under it and jerked his hand away instantly. "Wow, that's pretty cold. How's a new apartment got this many issues."
“How I’m gonna take a shower now?” you complained. “I smell like sweat.”
“Well, we could shower together. For warmth,” Jaime suggested and there was a glint in his eyes that you chose to ignore.
You nodded your head and watched him get undressed. Though the implications and that smirk on Jaime’s face weren’t lost on you either, you really just needed to take a shower and head to bed.
Your eyelids were growing heavier by the minute and you didn't wanna fall in the shower. Jaime got in behind you and started to gently wash you up. You washed his back, neck, and shoulders.
In 30 minutes or so, both of you were done and laid on the couch together. It was quiet like before, except for Jaime's soft snores and your breathing.
There were things that needed to be fixed in the morning but for right now, you were content. Ignoring the fact that you were shaking like a leaf from your shower and that you could slip from the couch any moment, of course.
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Tags: @fhhahaha12, @allthingsvicf, @louiesdaydream, @herrescasper, @niluuuuu, @starii-light, @scryarchives, @666kpopfan, @sodacatz, @bluecray0nn, @itsyagrillkat, @strawberrycreamb, @conicoroahre, @losingmywayyyy, @nightwingandhissquad, @champagnelovers101, @asvterias, @wintersdeadd, @shslsimpette
Taglist & Masterlist & Anonlist & Reqs Info
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eilidh-eternal · 4 months
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Ok, I need to get into a fluffy mindset to write for Johnny and Simon so here’s some poly!bluecollar!141
Contractor 141 with reader who’s hired them to do the renovations on your house/business and you insist on bringing the guys like, drinks and sandwich platters each time you drop by to check on the progress. The whole thing is terribly behind schedule because every time you stop by with little gifts for the crew they ask if you wanna learn how to level concrete, how to frame a wall, how to dry wall. You always say yes, always want to learn a new skill to make yourself more marketable. And they love the excuse to be a little touchy with you, to stand chest to back with you and show you how to use the table saw, to keep a steadying hand on the small of your back when you climb up the ladder to mud the drywall after it’s been hung.
The sight of you, this white collar worker who never has a hair out of place, is always so perfectly put together and speaks to them with the confidence of every project manager they’ve ever worked with, is getting down and dirty with them and using all the power tools so confidently, and it just gets them all so fucking hard…
you guys know where this is going. The build is a good 6 months behind schedule, maybe a year, because your original design plans aren’t big enough for you and the four of them.
The shower definitely needs expanding and you need a much bigger bathtub—they’re big guys, love. And the fridge you picked out? Forget it, you’re gonna need a commercial grade fridge and freezer to keep enough food on hand for your big hard working boys. But don’t worry, John will have custom cabinetry done so you can still get that integrated look with all the appliances. Simon goes with you to pick out the bed and furniture because poor baby has the worst back out of all of them and needs an extra firm mattress, and he’s the tallest and you would feel just awful if things aren’t big enough for him. Gaz and Soap both go with you to pick out paint colors, counter tops, all the different tile and flooring, and all the pretty detailed things, taking notes and making sure that they have or can get their hands on all the tools and materials necessary to bring your vision to life.
And you best believe all four of them are carrying you across the threshold when it’s done, that they’ve had everything all assembled and put together and ready for you to christen every surface, every piece of furniture, in your new house with your boys.
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dduane · 4 months
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Okay, time to get on with this Nutella and crushed-hazelnut roll cake I've been plotting for the last couple of weeks. (One of our neighbors did us a favor just now and I want to bring them some of this to say Thank You.)
The recipe looks quite sound—no surprise, as this lady's website is full of great stuff. But I'm going to have to spoof it somewhat, as it's predicated on the use of a sheet pan size that wouldn't fit into our oven (the usual US-size-vs-European-size hardware- and appliance-size issue). Probably I'll wind up baking about 75% of the batter in the 10x15-inch pan I've got and the rest in a smaller 9x7-inch, so that the sheet cake doesn't come out so thick that it refuses to roll correctly.
...Got to toast the hazelnuts first, anyway. I'll add pics to this post as I go along.
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ETA 1: The hazelnuts, just out of the oven. The aroma in the kitchen is fabulous. :) (We've got a tabletop microwave-cum-fan oven that has about a hundred custom cooking/baking programs built into it, and one of them is for toasting nuts.) (Oh look, @petermorwood got a shot of one of the special menus from the manual when he was posting about the microwave sponge cake.)
...Had I not had the fancy gadget, I'd have just put the hazelnuts on a baking sheet and toasted them at 180C/375ish F for ten or fifteen minutes, stirring the nuts around every five minutes or so until the outsides went nice and brown. The skins rub right off when the nuts cool down, if you don't want them. But I left some in so they'd keep their toastier flavor. These are a soft nut after toasting/roasting, so they crush really easily.
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Meanwhile, while sitting still a moment before getting the mise en place together for the cake, and idly scrolling down through the menu on Sky Movies: wow, I really do need new glasses in a hurry. Saw the movie title "Fred Claus" and read it as "Fried Clams." (sigh) After the holidays, for sure. (It's the usual problem. These glasses are trifocals, you have to point-and-steer them to get the right results depending on what you're looking at, and sometimes you're distracted or in a hurry and can not be bothered to do the hunting-for-focus thing, and as a result you get comical results.) (sigh)
Now the mise en place:
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...So typical. You're trying to have it be pretty for the photo and one of the egg yolks breaks. (eyeroll)
Anyway. Not shown here: running off to give the stand mixer's bowl an extra wash to make sure it's absolutely clean, because any grease getting into egg whites being beaten will inhibit how well they fluff up.
So, time to get on with that.
First thing, though: the baking pans need to be prepared while the egg whites and so forth are beating.
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So the recipe suggests that you should butter both the pans and the parchment paper used to line them. And speaking as one who's writing this after rolling the cakes up, I can speak directly to its effectiveness. The cake sheets pretty much leapt out of the pans. As I can imagine all too clearly what having to convince them out would be like, better to go overboard with the butter at this stage. I buttered the pans with solid butter and then melted a couple of tablespoonsful and brushed the baking-parchment liners with them.
Lining the pans with the paper, btw, is much assisted by having buttered them first. You just press the paper down and it sticks. Then you go get the scissors and cut off whatever's hanging out.
And now comes the part where you make the cake batter.
First you beat the egg whites and half the granulated sugar to the stiff-peak stage. (Took my mixer about five minutes.)
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Then in a different bowl you beat the egg yolks and the rest of that sugar together. Somehow I missed getting a pic of this: apologies. It's the usual "beat together until pale, light, and fluffy." Took about seven minutes for that.
Then: sift together the flour, cocoa, salt and baking powder, The logistics of the original recipe get a little complicated at this point—it sounds like a third bowl is being called for. But at that point I'd decided that I already had more than the usual number of bowls to deal with, not to mention the one I'd just sifted the dry ingredients into. And we don't have a dishwasher. So I just said "The hell with that", added the coffee and vanilla to the egg yolk mixture, and mixed it a bit more: then spooned about half the sifted dry ingredients in, and pulsed the mixer a few times: then added the rest of the dry stuff and mixed again, very slow, just wanting to make sure that everything was completely combined. (As usual with cakes at this point, the idea is to get everything well mixed without doing anything to develop the gluten in the flour. I never let the mixer go very fast.)
...Then comes the "folding in the egg whites" part of the operation. Always use the biggest spatula you've got for this.
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Then, when you finish this stage (again, sorry, no pic, I was busy racking my brains over what tool would be best for this job) you spread the batter in the pans.
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When I finished with this task I was very glad that I had an offset spatula, because if I'd attempted this with a regular mixing spatula, I don't think the result would have been anything like this even. This batter is light but it's also moderately firm... and with the best will in the world, no amount of shimmying the pans around on the work surface is ever going to even that batter out. As for its thickness in the pans: we're talking about a centimeter at the most.
And then: into the oven for ten minutes, while setting up the pieces of cocoa-powder-dusted baking parchment meant to receive them. I don't have pics of them in the pans when they came out, because the get-them-out-of-the-pans stage is kind of a time-sensitive thing (like immediately). So I got on with it.
They fell straight out onto the prepared sheets with no trouble at all. The small one fell out by itself: the large one fell out with the baking parchment still clinging to it, but not so desperately that it took more than gently lifting it away between finger and thumb to get rid of it.
And then came the rolling. I did the little one by myself, to get a sense of the technique: then asked @petermorwood to video the rolling of the larger one.
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...So now they get left to their own devices until, oh, tomorrow morning, I guess. That's when I'll move on to the next stages.
My plan is to unroll the little cake as a test: brush it inside with warmed/semi-liquid Nutella: sprinkle the Nutella with crushed hazelnuts, which theoretically/please gods will stick to it if gently assisted; and then contrive a filling that will taste at least somewhat of Nutella but not be too sweet to bear. Then the ganache will be made using that fabulous Belgian chocolate that came in a couple of weeks back, and when the whole cake's put together and has had a little time to rest, Peter and I will test it and see if it's something we feel confident enough to offer to other people.
So we'll see how it all goes. Tune in again tomorrow for more hijinks... :)
ETA 2, December 23: When we last saw our cake rolls, the two of them (the one baked in the Euro-size pan, and the smaller one where the spare batter went) were sitting innocently on the counter, waiting to settle enough to be unrolled.
Now's the time. And guess what?
DIsaster! (-Ish. As you'll see.)
The first small sheet of cake was just too small to deal with this treatment without immediately cracking into one-inch slices upon unrolling. I therefore won't waste your time with that video. Instead, you should have a look at the video of the bigger-baked sheet as it gets unrolled, and watch it crack in pieces! (This was either due to the baked sheet being too thick, or too thin. More diagnostics are needed before we come to a verdict.)
But first: the buttercream filling, which worked just fine.
This is the recipe I used:
This recipe worked perfectly. There's zero reason to inflict a long video about this on you, as I was working in a cold kitchen (with three stone walls, two external...) and the butter and sugar took something like half an hour to get friendly enough so that the Nutella could finally be added.
One thing I will show you, though. It's been a long time since I bothered buying confectioners' sugar / icing sugar, because when I need it, I make it myself... in the (very old and beat up-looking) coffee grinder. The sugar's grind comes up finer than that of a lot of commercially made icing sugars... and unlike too many confectioners' sugars in North America, there's no cornstarch in it (which they put in to keep it from caking with storage).
If you try this, make sure not to forget to brush the grinder out well afterwards, and wipe it clean with a damp paper towel. Otherwise the sugar, which is very hygroscopic, will go solid, glue the blade to its spindle, and be a real nuisance to clean out after the fact.
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Meanwhile, here's the Nutella buttercream frosting after it's done. Just a very quick clip here, so you can see what the texture should be like when you pull the beater out of the mixture. (Volume down on this, please: it's really noisy.) If it's not soft enough, do as the recipe recommends: add a tablespoonful of milk or so and beat well until things soften up a bit. Add another, and do the same again, if you need to.
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So now we come to the baked-cake unrolling. (Apologies for the black bars at the top and bottom of the video. For reasons best known to itself the phone insisted on recording in 9:16/portrait format, and the bars are an artifact of flipping it back into landscape...)
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...So after all that, both cakes, the big and the small, are in the fridge now, stabilizing. And there we'll leave matters until tomorrow.
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bloatedandalone04 · 2 months
Text
No One Else
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➪the one where you throw a housewarming party, and a.j. isn’t fond of all the guys staring at you in his new living room.
Warnings: this man is such a dom i swear, smut, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, swearing, pda, jealous a.j., alcohol consumption.
Word Count: 3.4k
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
A.J. hated house parties. He would much rather go out to the club or a bar as he felt like the parties he threw at his apartment got too crowded too quickly.
But he was doing this for you.
About three months ago A.J. asked you to move in with him. He loved you more than anything else and he wanted you around him all the time, and you felt the same way. You agreed and moved out of your small loft and into his massive condo across the city.
While you were used to the city life, you were a bit overwhelmed since he was in the middle of it all. It was loud and chaotic whenever you opened the sliding door of the balcony, and the lights kept you up at night. You didn’t say anything about it, not wanting to give A.J. any ideas, but it wasn’t long until he discovered your distaste for this side of the city.
It was a big difference to where you lived previously, and he felt guilty about the sudden change. 
So he offered to move away from all of it, to give up the city life he had been living in for around twelve years for a cute and modern house in a neighborhood just outside the city. 
He let you have full control over pretty much everything in the house; from the appliances in the kitchen to the paint color in the living room. A.J. gave you his credit card and told you to go crazy, and you really took his words and ran with them.
You bought countless pieces of furniture and when they arrived at the home, A.J. spent a good day and a half building them with Jake. 
Now, a full week after settling into the new place, you decided to throw a house party to really break it in. 
The house was a lot bigger than his apartment, so it wasn’t as crowded, but he still hated having so many people in his personal space. But A.J. knew it was all worth it when he caught your eye from across the living room and saw the way your lips turned upwards into a happy smile.
He really would do anything for you without an ounce of hesitation. 
A.J. crossed the room after wrapping up his conversation with Jesse, and his hands found their home on your waist as he stood behind you. He knew you were smiling as you listened to the story Rachel was telling you, and that smile only grew when he leaned down to rest his chin on your shoulder. 
“You two are so cute, seriously,” Rachel beamed, finishing off her drink with a smile. “I can confidently say you were made for each other.”
“Just like you and Jake,” came your sweet reply and A.J. felt the corners of his mouth lift upwards as you sipped on your wine. 
“Speaking of,” he trailed off, lifting his head and looking around the packed room. “Where is your fiancé, Rach?”
Rachel furrowed her brows as she, too, looked around the room. “I’m not sure, actually,” she answered. “Let me know if you find him, and let me know if he looks like he’s had too much to drink. If he’s plastered, tell him he’s sleeping on the couch when we get home.”
A.J. laughed as he kissed the side of your neck before moving away from you. “Will do,” 
“Come find me later,” you requested in a soft voice, smiling at him afterwards. “I shouldn’t miss you this much in our own house.”
A.J. held back a groan as he moved towards you again and firmly gripped your jaw, pressing a deep kiss to your mouth. You grin against his lips and tangle your free hand in his hair, his lack of hat tonight making it very easy. “Damn, baby,” he muttered as he pulled away and you ran the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip. “You make a guy not want to leave.”
You grin at him and shrug. “Hurry back, Jay,” 
He bit his lip as he nodded and turned to go seek out his best friend. He found Jake in the kitchen talking to John, and they both looked like they were on the verge of being wasted. “A.J.! Hey, buddy!” Jake greeted as the tattooed man entered the room. “This is a nice place you got here.”
“Yeah, man, I like how secluded it is,” John added as he looked around the room. “You buy it with that two million we snagged from those transport trucks?” He asked loudly and A.J. had to deliver a quick slap to his shoulder to stop John from exposing the source of his income to all his new neighbors. 
And there were a lot of them. 
The neighborhood you were now living in was well populated, and you had taken it upon yourself to invite all of them to the party in hopes to get to know them. A.J. wasn’t very fond of strangers in his house, but it was just another thing he forced himself to deal with since he was so in love with you. 
“Keep your voice down,” A.J. muttered as John gave him an apologetic smile. 
“Sorry, man,” he laughed. “Your new neighbors were very generous with their housewarming gifts.” John held up the bottle of champagne with a bow tied around it, and A.J. just shook his head. 
“Just try not to tell the guests all our secrets, yeah?” 
John nodded and gave him a salute before wandering off towards the dining room where Gordon was. “A.J., buddy, I never thought I’d see you get out of the city, man,” Jake said as he leaned against the counter with a beer in his hand. 
“You and me both,” he murmured as he took the half empty bottle from Jake.
“The things we do for the women we love, huh?” Jake asked as he moved to sit down at the kitchen table. 
“Speaking of, Rachel told me that if I saw you and you were drunk, I have to tell you that you’re sleeping on the couch,” A.J. informed the tipsy man, who just laughed. 
“She might say that, but she can’t sleep without me, man, I’m like her personal pillow,”
A.J. shook his head and set the bottle on top of the fridge, knowing damn well that Jake could easily reach it. “Good thing she’s marrying you then,”
“Hey, when are you and your girl getting married?” Jake asked as he grabbed a handful of chips and ate them all at once. “You’ve been together about as long as Rachel and I have, when are you gonna ask her the question?”
“I don’t know, man,” A.J. answered as he avoided the crumbs flying out of Jake’s mouth with each word he said. “Soon.”
“You have the ring, don’t you?”
A.J. nodded and Jake grabbed one of the cookies off the dessert plate on the table. “Yeah, I’m just waiting for the right time,” 
Jake leaned back just as Rachel entered the kitchen and made her way over to the two guys. “Don’t wait too long, buddy,” he advised as Rachel moved to stand next to him. “Putting a ring on this one’s finger was the best decision I ever made.” He wrapped his arm around his fiancée’s waist as he smiled up at her. 
Rachel laughed as she draped her arm around Jake’s shoulders. “You’re planning on proposing?” She asked with excitement lacing her voice. “Do it soon, then Y/n/n and I can be engaged at the same time. Ooh, maybe a double wedding!”
A.J. shook his head with a smile as he looked towards the doorway, expecting to see you enter at any second since Rachel was now in here. When you didn’t, he glanced at your best friend and asked, “Where is she, anyway? You leave her to get lost in her own house?”
Rachel playfully rolled her eyes. “No, I was just making sure this guy was behaving,” she nudged Jake, who just continued smiling up at her. “Last I saw her, she was talking to the next door neighbor who hasn’t been able to take his eyes off her all night.”
A.J.’s smile faded at that and he left the kitchen without saying another word. Rachel and Jake’s conversation faded into the background as he entered the living room again, and instead of finding you where he left you by the sliding door, you were by the couch and talking to some dark haired guy. 
While he knew he had no reason at all to be jealous, seeing as this was his own fucking living room he shared with you, A.J. still didn’t like seeing you around guys who clearly just wanted to sleep with you.
And this guy did a very bad job at hiding the fact that he wanted to fuck you. 
A.J. made his way over to you, receiving a slap on his shoulder from Jesse as he did so. You wanted him to find you later, and he was more than ready to take you up on that offer now. 
Your eyes drifted from the brunet and met A.J.’s, and a smile formed on your lips, instantly replacing the barely hidden look of boredom on your face.
The guy probably thought you were smiling at him, but A.J. sorted him out pretty quickly as he stepped around the stranger and wrapped his arm around your waist. He pulled you into his side and he didn’t even bother glancing at the guy’s face before he was pressing a deep kiss to your mouth. 
You return it immediately and lean into his touch when he lifts his free hand up to grip your jaw and angle your head, and you willingly give him full control of the kiss. He slowly pulls away and smirks at the way you keep your eyes closed for a few more seconds before he looks over at the guy, who did not look happy at all. “New friend, baby?” He asked, making you open your eyes and look over as well. 
“Um, this is….Dean?” You question and A.J. held back a laugh at the offended look Dean gave you. “He’s our new neighbor, Jay.”
“Nice to meet you,” A.J. said and ignored Dean’s outstretched hand as he turned back to you and leaned in close. “Do you know how badly I want to fuck you right now?” He asked under his breath as Dean stood awkwardly next to him. 
Your eyes widen and you let out a startled laugh. “A.J,” you gasp quietly and look over at your neighbor with a blush.
A.J. glanced over at him, too, before beginning to pull you towards the half-bath next to the hallway that led to yours and his room. You feebly waved at Dean as A.J. made a show of guiding you into the bathroom, a smug smirk on his lips when he saw Dean’s glare. 
Once he entered the bathroom as well, he closed the door and locked it before pushing you up against it. “I gotta say, baby,” he murmured as his hands pulled up the black material of your dress. “I’m not a big fan of our new neighbors.”
You lean your head back against the door as he bunches your dress around your hips and teased your clit through the thin material of your panties. “Why? Not friendly enough?” 
A.J. grunted as he pushed the lace material down your legs and let it drop to the tiled floor. “They’re too friendly,” he answered as he picked you up and set you down on the marbled countertop. 
You squeal at the cold surface against your burning skin and cling onto his shoulders. “Fuck, A.J.,” you mumble and tug at his suspenders. “What’s gotten into you? You were fine when you left to go find Jake.”
He would never admit that he was jealous of that prick in his living room, so he shrugged and kissed along your shoulders. “Nothings gotten into me,” he said under his breath. “But hopefully I can get into you.”
You moan loudly, despite being able to clearly hear the party guests outside the door. “Well, when you say it like that,” you tease and drop your hands to the button on his dress pants. “But we have to be quick, Jay. We’re hosting right now.”
“Fuck them,” he rasped as he reached his hand in between your bodies and sunk his index and middle fingers into your heat. “Fuck everyone out there, baby. We’re in our house. I should take you back out there and fuck you right on that couch.” 
You moan at his dirty words and run your hands through his hair, successfully making it messy. No one else got that privilege as he usually spent a good ten minutes doing his hair - just to throw a hat over it, but he would happily let you mess it up whenever you wanted. “You’d actually do it, too,” 
A.J. smirked at you as he worked you open with his fingers. “I would,” he agreed as he looked down. “You’re dripping, baby. Did the teaser I gave you in front of Dean turn you on that much?”
“That and you,” came your muffled answer as you buried your face against the side of his neck. “Are you really going to fuck me in the bathroom at a party?”
“Yes,” he answered as you unzipped his pants. “Unless you feel like waiting until everyone leaves and I can fuck you all over the house. Fair warning, though, I don’t think this party is dying any time soon.”
You moan and lift your head. “Get to it, then,” you murmur and pull him free. A.J. presses his lips to yours at the same time he enters you with a single thrust, and the feeling has you grasping onto his shirt tightly. “Fuck. Is this how you did it in the Ivy League? Fucking random girls in bathrooms during parties?”
“Had to practice somehow. And you’re not just a random girl,” he said back and you laughed before moaning rather loudly as he began to roughly fuck into you. You slap one hand over your mouth with wide eyes and he smirks. “Can’t be quiet, huh, baby?”
You shake your head as you lean back against the mirror. “No,” you agree and tug on his hair with your other hand. “I can’t be quiet when it comes to you, Jay. You make me feel so good.”
A.J. groaned when you clenched around him, and he knew he wasn’t much better. One of the perks of living in an actual house and not an apartment, was that you and he could be as loud as you wanted. 
Not that the thin walls of your last apartment stopped you from being loud. You’d received countless noise complaints, and they all were ignored by A.J., who just fucked you harder until the bed slammed against the wall with each thrust.  
It was like how he was fucking into you now. 
Your body moved further and further back on the counter until you had to place your hand flat against the marble, accidentally knocking over the bottle of soap in the process and making it fall to the floor. “Jesus,” you gasped as his hips rocked into yours. 
A.J. grunted and kept one hand on your hip while his other reached up to grip the side of your face. “God, you’re tight,” he rasped, making you smirk as you wrap your legs tighter around him. 
The smirk was promptly wiped from your face as he began roughly slamming into you, loud moans emitting from your mouth with each thrust. “Oh, my God,” you cried as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your hands bunching up his shirt tightly. “Fuck yes, Jay.”
A.J. groaned and pressed his mouth to yours, his tongue poking out and parting your lips, coating them in a layer of his spit. “Feel good, princess?” He teasingly asked and you nod uncontrollably. 
“Feels so good,” you answer, clinging onto him as you feel your release approaching embarrassingly fast. “So fucking good.”
He grunted, kissing all over your neck as you squeezed him over and over again. “You’re taking me so well, baby,” he praised, reaching behind you to pull on your hair. 
You squeal a bit, hiking your body closer to his as you hear the sounds of the party-goers right outside the door. “I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m gonna come,” you warned loudly, no longer caring about the guests hearing you at this point. 
“Already?” He mocked, pulling at your bottom lip with his thumb. “You needed me just as badly as I needed you, huh?”
“Yes,” you whimpered, your body involuntarily bucking forward to meet his thrusts. “Oh, my fucking God, yes, please please please.”
A.J. gripped your waist in both hands, his still clothed thighs hitting the backs of yours as you moaned loudly in the surprisingly big half-bath. 
You grip his back and pull his chest against yours as you feel your release take over. “Oh, God,” you cried out as you clamped impossibly tight around him. “I’m coming.”
A.J. cursed under his breath as he felt your walls pulse around him before a warmth took him over. “There you go, baby. Give it to me,” he muttered, and your whines increased in volume. “Good girl.” He praised, kissing the skin under your ear as you writhed against him. 
“Are you…” you trailed off as you slumped against his chest, his hips still lazily rocking into yours. “Are you gonna come, too?”
A.J. let out a surprised moan at your dirty question and how sweetly you asked it. He leaned in and kissed you hard, using his hand to angle your head so he had better access to your mouth. “Do you want me to?”
“Yes,” you answer instantly. “I want it so bad.”
His eyes shut tightly as he buried his face against the side of your neck. “I’ll come for you,” he promised, feeling his stomach tighten with each slow thrust he gave. “I always will.”
You whine and pull him impossibly close as he came hard, his hips fucking his release deeper and deeper into you as he groaned loudly. 
When he pulls away, you smile shyly at him as you smooth out his shirt with  a quiet laugh. “Is it all out of your system now?”
“Is what all out of my system?” He asked as he pressed a chaste kiss to your mouth. “My unhealthy need to fuck you all over our new house? No, that won’t be out of my system for quite a while.”
You laugh then bite your lip as he pulls out of you, then he reaches down to run two fingers through your sensitive core. He collects his release onto his digits before lifting his hand again, and you lean in to wrap your mouth around them, hearing him grunt deeply as you clean himself off his fingers. “Tasty,” you smirk once you pull away. 
A.J. had to hold off on taking you right then and there as he felt himself grow a bit hard again. Instead, he cleaned you up, smoothed out your outfit and finished it off with a kiss to your lips. “You ready to go back out there?” He asked and you nodded. “Don’t be surprised when we get some dirty looks, because I think every single person out there knows what we did in here.”
You shrug, looking up at him with a teasing smirk. “Who cares? It’s our house,” you point out and pull open the door. “Do me a favor and don’t fix your hair, okay?”
Then you were walking out of the bathroom, leaving A.J. to look at himself in the mirror with a laugh as he took notice of his post-sex hair. If it wasn’t obvious enough what you and he just got finished doing, his messy hair will definitely get the message across. 
And that was exactly why he left it as it is before following after you.
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esamastation · 7 months
Text
Shizuroth, part two?
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In a restroom near the infirmary, Shen Qingqiu takes a long look at himself, at his life, at his situation.
Though he's not Shen Qingqiu anymore, is he? He's someone else now. Someone super tall, super buff, super dangerous, from what he remembers - someone, who like all the great superstars, only has one name.
Sephiroth.
It scarcely makes sense. Actually, it doesn't make any sense! And neither does his mirror reflection! Nor the utterly ridiculous coat he's supposed to be wearing! Even Binghe didn't have his chest this badly exposed! There's so much leather! Leather trousers and boots and coat and no shirt, at all, just his chest all out for the whole world to see!
Shen Qingqiu's adopted xianxia sensibilities are swooning in shock at the indecency. Indecency, he says! He's used to wearing the minimum of six layers, none of them skin tight, and in the meanwhile Sephiroth barely fits into three! Technically two and a half! 
Sephiroth is - he looks like -
He actually looks a lot like Shen Qingqiu? Mostly around the face. Same kinda narrow features, sharp eyes, straight nose… the colouring and the, ahem, proportions are a bit off - Sephiroth is huge, maybe even taller than Binghe! Muscles on muscles, seriously! But, give him a hair dye and some robes, and, well. He might pass for Shen Qingqiu's taller, buffer brother!
Which is kinda, ahem. Shen Yuan sort of also had that resemblance, just in the other direction. Smaller and softer. It probably means something, but he's too busy trying to get his stupid indecent leather coat to close at the front to care.
The coat does not close. It's literally too small. Who would've thought, the big bad badass boss of Final Fantasy VII had his tits out, because his clothes were just too small! What, did he out grow them?
Get a new coat!
Giving up on the clothes, Shen Qingqiu - or should he think of himself as Sephiroth now? - runs his only slightly shaking hands over and down his hair. At least that's sort of familiar. Sephiroth's hair is a bit longer than Shen Qingqiu's, but at least he's used to handling long hair like it. The colour is new, and he can tell it hasn't been oiled like his used to be in PIDW, but instead it has that nostalgic quality of being conditioned. And that's, honestly, something to look forward to! Shampoo and conditioner and, oh, gods, showers! Not only that, but there's electricity, and there are electrical appliances - so, following that logic, Sephiroth might even have a hairdryer!
If only it didn't come with the burden of becoming yet another doomed-to-die villain. At least it's not a scum villain this time - no, just the crazy one with mommy issues who tries to destroy the planet! Fun!
Curiously gathering his hair into a loose version of Shen Qingqiu's usual updo, he turns his face this way and that. Damn, but Sephiroth is pretty. Glowing green eyes and hair like spun silver, and body of Adonis. Yet another beautiful man with a terrible past and worse future. 
Maybe Shen Yuan's soul is cursed in some way. 
Dropping the hair and letting it cascade back down over the pauldrons capping his already ridiculously broad shoulders, he leans over the restroom sink and tries to remember what even happened in FFVII.
It's been well over two decades since he played it! It or Crisis Core - or whatever it was, the PSP sequel-prequel thing with Zack? Sephiroth had made a bunch of cameos in other games too, and then there was the movie - so who knows which version he's in! Which timeline, which moment in which timeline? Maybe he's in Kingdom Hearts! He could be! For all he knows, he might be in some official novel version, and he'd never read any of those, if they even exist!
Safe to say it's before the main game, though, what with him being alive and, judging by things… in Shinra. Figure they probably wouldn't be doing medical stuff for him if he'd already stabbed the president to death. And that happened years after he died, so, uh… it's probably somewhere in the Crisis Core era. Or any number of the mobile games that took place in between, though he'd never really looked into those. So. Uh…
After having his life revolve around PIDW and cultivation and Luo Binghe, it's weird, trying to remember an ancient PS1 game. Though he'd played it emulated on the computer. Thankfully, he's not in that version, graphics-wise, that would've been painful. And speaking of pain…
If nothing else, he's well out of Luo Binghe's reach now, far better than he would've been in just the Sun and Moon Dew Flower body. He paid back his debts best he could when he self-destructed, and now he's off to a whole different world, genre, even the media is different! No being torn limb from limb here! Just a lot of stab wounds. And, well, maybe some medical torture. And, uh, several short-term resurrections followed by more stabbing to death… while slowly losing his mind… and growing extra limbs… uh.
Still, definitely an upgrade from years upon years as a tortured human stick before being killed by his favourite character! And he doesn't even have a System here! No OOC lock! No B-points or System punishments!
He lights incense in his heart for Airplane-bro, all the while nodding to himself in congratulations for this positive turn of events. Airplane would've felt similarly in his boots, surely. His ridiculous, knee-high, edgelord boots. 
Feeling a little better, he rummages through Sephiroth's pockets and comes away with a treasure trove of props. Keys, key cards, glowing marbles of Magic, which he knows are Materia, but which to his lingering Shen Qingqiu sensibilities look a lot like first grade spirit stones… and best of all…
He brings it out slowly and holds it up reverently. It's the most special, most magical thing he's seen in years! It's so beautiful, he could weep!
Sephiroth, it so happens, has a smartphone.
-
*muffled giggling*
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seungmoonandstars · 3 months
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©¹¹ᵒⁿˡʸ
Kim Seungmin/female reader
wc: ~7.2k
rating: fluff (kinda?) to smut to fluff ಇ (sub/switch!seungmin/softdom!reader)
comments: this is my first time trying out non idol Seungmin. @xirxe requested au fluff! I started a coworker au, and then got more info from them after I started writing furiously. I'm still working on another one more specific to their request, but I decided to finish this one as well. "Finish" …because I don't know when to stop ever. It got very long and turned much more sex-heavy than originally intended. Anyway, I miss writing long pieces and now I might write a part 5 for Blind Date (⁄ ⁄•⁄-⁄•⁄ ⁄)
⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄
The first time you see him, he’s in one of the appliance aisles. Actually, it’s the first time you hear him, because what gets your attention is him laughing hysterically with another coworker, goofing off, sitting in one of the display office chairs. And he’s just about to be launched down the aisle when you turn the corner.
“Oh shit…caught,” you hear one of them say, and you’re pretty sure it was Changbin. But they both stop dead and look at you like you already handed out their punishments.
The reality is, you don’t care what they’re doing, because the store is nearly empty of customers. The snowstorm outside is making sure of that. But you’re new, and you’re above them—that’s all it takes to make things awkward. They’re probably expecting you to start bossing them around immediately.
Nope. You walk by them and smirk, “don’t break anything please…”
They giggle and pick up where they left off as soon as you turn the corner and disappear. You remember who the dark haired one is, but for some reason, the name of the blond in the chair is escaping you.
The second time you see him, he’s fighting with the coffee machine in the breakroom.
As soon as he hears you walk in, he stops beating his open palm against the side, looks back, smiles, then tries the button again. “Do you want a cup?” He asks.
“Doesn’t seem like it wants to give us any.”
“Surrounded by brand new Nespresso machines…stuck with this.” He opens the top, closes it, then pushes the button again. This time it works, and a moment later, his coffee is pouring into his cup.
“Maybe I can ask about getting a new one for us.” You watch him watching his coffee.
He swirls it and brings it to his nose before taking a sip. “I’ve tried. Hopefully you have better luck.”
To your surprise, he sits directly across from you at the table. You look at him, try desperately to remember his name. You forgot to check the schedule when you saw him earlier in the day, but you don’t want to ask. And of course he isn’t wearing his name tag.
“Where’s your name tag?” You ask, trying not to sound too much like a manager.
“Uh…” he slaps his chest where it should be, looks down at it, thinks. “I must’ve lost it.” The smirk on his face is…cute.
“I’ll get you a new one.”
“You’re very helpful.” He shakes his bangs away from his eyes—blond, a little too long. You can see his big dark eyes a little better, just for a second until his gaze drops back down to his coffee.
“I try.”
He’s quiet for the remainder of your break, but when you rise to leave, he does as well. You head toward the office, and he follows. Just before you get there, he makes a left turn.
Now you can finally look at the schedule and figure out his name.
・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄
The very next day, you still have no idea who he is. The copy of the schedule was nowhere to be found, and your computer access is still limited. Try as you might, your login just won’t work. All you have to do is ask him, though. It’s not that big of a deal. And honestly, if you weren’t wearing your name tag, he probably wouldn’t know yours either.
A soft knock on the office door makes you jump. You check the time—8am. If only you could find a schedule, you’d know who was supposed to be here right now.
“Good morning!” You’re greeted with a familiar face when you open the door. He steps inside, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Do you have a job for me?”
“Do I…I’m not sure. Is anyone else here?”
“Uhm, well you opened the doors,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck, “and I just came in because the door wasn’t locked, which was lucky, because it’s cold out and I did not want to stand out there and wait.”
“Okay, so we’re here.”
“Just us, yes.”
“Do you have a login for the computer?”
He nods and smiles, takes a seat, and starts typing. “You don’t?”
“It doesn’t work yet.”
“Oh okay, that sounds about right for this place.” He gets up and turns the seat for you. “I don’t have as much access as your login would, but it’s better than nothing.”
You sit down and spin back to the computer, look around, click a few things. His profile photo stares at you from the corner, and you have to force yourself not to accidentally click on it. He’s watching over your shoulder, leaning in a little, trying to be helpful. You catch the faintest scent of whatever he's wearing. It's not cologne, though. He just smells clean and nice, probably how his bedroom smells.
You find a page of contacts, phone numbers. Good enough for now. “Thanks,” you turn to him and he’s staring down at you with a goofy smile.
“No problem. I’m going to go make some coffee.”
As soon as he leaves, you don’t grab your phone and call another manager, and you don’t even keep the contact page up. You go back and click on his profile.
“Oh! Kim Seung Min, that’s your name.” You stare at his profile photo. His hair is darker in this, and the contrast makes his skin look pale and his eyes look even bigger. His smile is so wide, like he's actually happy to be there. He’s very photogenic; it’s a good photo. A work ID photo really has no business looking this nice.
A few minutes later, he knocks again, and you quickly exit out of the screen as if he can see you through the door.
“Sorry, I just…I saw the new machine," his little nod and blink makes your breath catch in your throat. "I made you some.”
Seungmin hands you a mug of coffee, a little darker than you’re used to, but he obviously watched you put milk in yours yesterday, and tried his best to copy it.
“Thank you, Seungmin.”
“I can remake it, if it’s not good.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
You look at the screen, heart starting to race. Did you only think you exited out of his profile? No, it’s not there. What is he talking about?
“Oh…oh, no not yet. No answer. I’ll call again in a few minutes.”
“I can help you with the opening stuff, if you’d like. I’ve done it a few times with the other managers.”
“The guy I saw yesterday and the one I’m seeing now don’t seem like the same person.”
He stares blankly for a few seconds, puffs out his cheeks, looks around. “Me?” The blush in his cheeks is rising. “Am I being too responsible right now? I can stop.” Seungmin smiles so big you can see all of his teeth.
It’s hard keeping your own smile in check. This one has to know how cute he is, and there’s no way he doesn’t use it to his advantage. “You can stop in an hour.”
“Deal.”
The two of you survive, dancing around each other for a few hours—you, purposely avoiding him several times by swerving to a different aisle. Him, well…he acted responsible all morning, smiled every time you made eye contact. When noon finally comes around, another manager shows up, and the snow finally stops.
Changbin also arrived at noon, and as soon as he and Seungmin looked at each other, all responsibility flew out the window. But you turned a blind eye to whatever goofing off they decided to do. And Seungmin, unfortunately, didn’t look in your direction the rest of the day.
・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄
“Does your login work yet?” Seungmin comes in and digs around in the pockets of his jacket.
You’re slumped over on the table, phone in hand, trying not to fall asleep, but you sit up when you see him come through the door, “It does.”
This is the first time you’ve seen him in three days. He was off, then you were off for two days. Now you’re on break, and he just started his shift 15 minutes ago. You’re not sure why he’s in here, and whatever he’s looking for in his pockets doesn’t seem to be there.
“Are you okay?” he asks, and then finally pulls something out. It’s his name tag. He pins it to his shirt, very crookedly, then takes it off and tries again.
“Yeah, just didn’t sleep well,” you squint at it and try to make out the little sticker by his name, but he’s too far away.
“The trick to falling asleep is to try to stay awake.”
“What?” You look from his name tag to his face. His hair is dark again. “Your hair.”
“My hair? Oh! I got tired of being blond.”
You like it dark. It’s not dark, though, not really. It’s a natural brown color, but he obviously did it himself, because you can still see some blond streaks coming through. It makes his skin look warm. Yes, you like it.
“If you try to keep yourself awake in bed, you fall asleep. I was trying to read on my phone last night, and I really wanted to finish the chapter, but I ended up dozing off and dropping my phone on my face.”
It’s so stupid, and so clever. And cute.
Seungmin smirks at you and turns to walk away, and then he turns back. “Does it look okay?”
You stare at him. Does what look okay? His badge? Everything from where you’re sitting looks very good, now that he mentions it. Long legs in his black jeans, a little loose around his tiny frame. There's a rip over one thigh, and you can see some of his skin peeking through. The belt holding them up had to have an extra hole poked in it, because the end of it is long enough to stick out from the dark blue work shirt.
“My hair, I mean.”
“Yeah, I like it.”
・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄
Seungmin isn’t alone today. His work buddy is here, and you can hear them all the way on the other side of the store. An hour or so later, another one comes in—this one you haven’t met yet, because he’s been gone all week. But as soon as he clocks in and returns to the floor, you hear all three of them laughing and acting up.
You don’t want to have to compete with two friends to get to him, but you will.
A walk by the phone accessory aisle gives you a chance to peek at them. Seungmin is sitting on the floor, legs crossed, arms propping up his long body.
Nobody else in the store seems to bother with making them work, so you don’t either. At least not now, in your first week. It’s hard enough starting a new job without worrying about making enemies—and besides, the minute you laid eyes on his him, making a new friend became your agenda.
---
And of course they all sit in the breakroom together, chatting loudly. As long as one of those two are here, you don’t imagine you’ll have any opportunity to talk to him.
They’re not teenage boys, but you wouldn’t really know it if you could only hear the conversation and not see them. You almost walk in on them, but the noise startles you just as you reach for the door knob. Stopping and listening in is not your smartest decision of the day, but once you stand silently for a few seconds, you can’t move.
The first voice is easily recognizable—it’s Changbin.
“She doesn’t talk much…she hasn’t spoken to me at all. Well, except when she told me not to break anything.”
“Well I haven’t even seen her yet, so I guess she—“
“It’s shitty being new. I’m sure she’s just trying to get used to things.”
Seungmin’s voice is surprisingly quiet.
“Maybe. You’ve worked with her more. And I always see her looking at you…so.”
“So…what?” Seungmin is still quiet but there’s a tiny bit of offense behind it.
“So maybe you’re making it easier for her to adjust.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
"Don't play dumb, Seungie...older woman, authority figure." Changbin laughs,
“Cmon Min…” this time it’s the other one talking, “we know you’re a little bit of a slut sometimes.”
He doesn’t say anything in return, but you hear his chair being pushed back, and then he gets to his feet. It takes you a second to loosen yourself from the spot, but you manage just in time and duck behind the corner.
Seungmin runs right into you when he turns and he nearly knocks you to the ground, but his hand grabs your arm to steady you. “I’m sorry…you alright?” His voice is still quiet. He’s whispering, probably because he doesn’t want them to hear.
“Yeah, I’m good.” You look up at him, and you can’t help but wonder if what they just said about him is true. They were obviously trying to rile him up, but friends are also brutally honest sometimes.
“Are you going on your break? I wouldn’t go in there yet, if you are.”
“I was going to, yes.”
“Changbin and Hyunjin are in there, and they can be a handful sometimes.”
“And you’re not?”
A nervous laugh comes out, “uhm, maybe sometimes. They’re not the best influence on me.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“I can go back and make you a coffee. Actually…”
“Seungmin you don’t have to do that.”
“…I can take you across the street and we can grab some better coffee there.”
“Seungmin,” you widen your eyes at him, because his are huge.
“Please, I want to.”
“Are you flirting with me?” You're not sure why he wants to protect you, but that's clearly what he's doing.
Another nervous laugh. His ears turn red. He stutters, “flirting…um, uh no I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.”
You hear them before you see them. They open the door and turn the corner before you can react—Seungmin freezes and stares at you. Changbin pushes him into the wall as he walks by, laughs, nods to you, and disappears.
“Guess the breakroom is safe now.”
“Yeah.”
・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄
Once today, Seungmin caught himself staring at you. He dropped his eyes back down to his phone immediately, heart racing, face red. Part of him wanted you to catch him looking, the other part is still nervous.
You asked him to watch the register specifically to keep him away from his jerk friends, and you tried not to make it too obvious, but he knows. From here, he can see you wandering around, and you can see him. They’re nowhere to be found. It’s quiet.
He won’t tell anyone (well, not them), but he likes when it’s quiet and he can be by himself. And as much as he hates watching the register, he’s glad you put him up here, because it gives him a a chance to read and people watch. Now he’s just waiting for you to walk by.
A text pops up on his phone:
Did you get in trouble Seung?
He ignores it.
She’s looking at you right now…she’s swooning
He tries to ignore him again, but he looks up and around, trying to find you. Seungmin knows Changbin is just being an asshole, but maybe you are looking at him. He’s hoping you are.
“Seungmin?”
He jumps, and nearly drops his phone. “Hi…hi. You’re very quiet.”
“Sorry. I can wear a bell, if that helps.”
“A bell? Like a…a collar?” Seungmin watches as your eyes grow big. He has no idea why he said that, and now you probably think he’s a pervert. “Can we pretend I didn’t say that.” He goes back to his phone only to see more texts—a string of laughing emojis—oh, there she is—she can’t stay away from you.
“Yeah…bell, collar. Makes sense.”
“That was..." he groans, "so stupid. I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright. At least I know where your mind is now.”
“No, it’s not. I’m not…I mean, I’m just a ditz.”
“You’d look much better in one.”
He squeezes his eyes shut and rubs at his cheeks. “Please don’t hate me.” His eyes pop open again, “I’d what?”
“…look cute wearing a collar.”
“I would?”
You mhm and walk away. Just leave it at that. Were you flirting? Deflecting? Making him feel less stupid?
Seungmin doesn’t feel any less stupid. A comment like that to the wrong person could mean getting fired, and he just said it to his new manager.
But he doesn’t think you’d get him in trouble. He has no reason to think you wouldn’t, but…no, you wouldn’t.
You pop up behind him again, and once again, he jumps. "It's gonna take a lot more than that to make me dislike you."
・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄
The next time you see him, he’s on his way out. You’re making coffee, he barrels into the breakroom to grab his things. He doesn’t seem like he’s in a great mood, so you keep your attention on your mug.
Seungmin is in his locker and mumbling to himself. And then… “oh, I didn’t know anyone was is here.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, just ready to get out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The ghost of a smile is on his lips as he grabs his coat and runs back out the door. You were hoping for one more awkward moment with him before either of you left tonight, but now it’ll have to wait.
But he comes back in a moment later; doesn't speak, doesn't even close the door. Just looks at you.
Seungmin has no idea why he came back in, but he was hoping a good excuse would come to him in the few seconds it took to get here. Now he's just staring stupidly and chewing on his lip.
"Hi," you smile at him and sip your coffee. "Did you want a cup before you catch your bus?"
"How'd you know I take the bus?"
"You shrug, "It's in your availability, silly."
"Oh, right. So you're not just watching me all the time?"
"I didn't say that."
They're heard before they're seen. Changbin and Hyunjin push themselves right through Seungmin on the way into the breakroom.
"Oh, hi boss," Changbin reddens and smirks when he sees you standing there, "Is this a bad time?"
"I have to go, I'll see you tomorrow." Seungmin ducks out quickly before you can even say goodbye.
・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄
“Don’t forget your coffee,” Hyunjin squeezes Seungmin’s shoulder as he sneaks by him.
“My what? I didn’t bring coffee in with me.”
“It has your name on it.”
He turns and see it’s sitting there. Just a black coffee, but not from here. It’s from the coffee shop across the street. And yes, his name is written neatly on the side.
“Somebody brought you coffee. How sweet.” He smirks. “Have a good shift.”
Seungmin picks it up and takes a sip. It’s still hot, so it was just set here recently. And of course he knows who put it there, because he can be a little stupid sometimes, but not that stupid. He looks at the schedule on his phone to see who he works with, and you’re right in the middle of his shift. You’ll be gone soon, but, at least he didn’t just miss you.
---
“Thank you,” he says, walking up behind you. You have your coffee in one hand, phone in the other.
“For what?” Seungmin doesn’t scare you, his voice is too sweet and soft, even if he does sneak up.
He looks at his cup, then to you.
“You’re welcome. Hopefully you always take it black.”
“Most of the time, yes.”
“Oh, and you’re getting cut today.“
“My shift was cut?”
“In half. I told the boss I needed you here until I was done.”
“You do?”
“No, but I figured half a shift was better than none. And I can give you a ride home, if you want. It’s too cold to wait on the bus.”
Seungmin sips his coffee, because he’s not sure how to respond just yet. His stomach is swirling, though, and he’s trying to conceal his smile. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
You turn to face him, “in trouble for what?”
“Favoritism.”
“You think you’re my favorite?”
He nods once, mouth still covered by his cup.
“You’re right, you are.”
---
The rest of the shift drags, and of course it would—you’re putting him in your car and taking him home in a few hours…this will be your first time seeing him outside of work. You try to keep away from Seungmin as much as possible, though, because he’s right. If you’re not careful, everyone will notice the attention you’re starting to give him.
“I’m a bit of a drive from here,” he says when you finally walk down the same aisle as him. “So if you don’t want—“
“If you can handle it on the bus, I’m sure I can handle the drive.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I don’t mind. You can get the coffee next time, if it makes you feel better.”
“Yes,” he reaches out and looks at the order on the side of your cup. “I can do that.”
・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄
It is a long drive. But you don’t mind, because he’s comfortable in the passenger seat; head back, eyes closed. You sneak a glance at him every chance you get, and each time, it looks like he’s sleeping soundly. It’s nice seeing him so close, letting your eyes linger even more than you dared to before. Even in the dark. The shape of his nose and lips, his jawline, his ear. The way his hair falls so nicely, and so effortlessly.
But of course he catches you, looks right back, and smiles.
“You really have such a long ride to and from work every day, Seungmin?” You blush, even though you don’t think he saw you staring.
“Yeah, it’s not bad. I’m used to it.”
“Are you saving for a car?”
“No, I can’t drive.”
“Oh, do you want to learn?”
“I’m not sure, thinking about driving makes me nervous.”
“I don’t want this to come across weird, but…how old are you?”
“I am 23. Am I too young or too old?” He flips down the visor and opens the mirror.
“Are you flirting?”
“You did it first.”
“No, I think you might have flirted first, actually.”
“When?”
“When you tried to keep me out of the breakroom. But I guess that was more for my own sake than anything.”
“I didn’t want you to have to listen to them.” Seungmin sits back again, and you can feel his stare burning into you.
“I heard them.”
“You did? What did you hear?”
“Your friends think you’re fucking me…or that you’re going to. And that you’re a slut.”
He’s quiet, and you hope you haven’t gone too far by actually saying it as crassly as they did.
“I’m not.”
“You’re not a slut?” You smile at him, hoping to break any tension you may have created. Thankfully it seems to work, because Seungmin laughs and covers his eyes. Then shakes his head.
“Or you’re not gonna fuck me?”
You can’t see his reaction, because now you have to watch the road, but he’s quiet again and it’s killing you.
“Take a left up here.” He says.
You decide to avoid eye contact completely until you get him home, and luckily, it’s not much longer. You pull into a spot as close to the door as possible, put it in park, and look at him.
He’s still relaxed, sitting back, eyes wide open and staring at you.
“I’m sorry, that was…uh, maybe too much.“
“Do you wanna come up?”
—-
Of course you do. The last three weeks you’ve spent trying to keep your distance has been torture, but you’re still nervous as you follow him down the hall to his apartment. You’re certain that as soon as you have him where you want him, you’ll snap out of it.
“This one,” he says it quietly, a little timid, maybe. You like it. “It’s probably a little messy.”
“I don’t mind.”
It’s not. Seungmin’s idea of messy is your idea of tidied up. And it’s a cute little apartment. Just looking at the couch—the big striped throw pillows, a few plushies, it doesn’t look like a typical single guys apartment. It’s cute, and it’s comfortable. It’s really cute. The kitchen is small and most of the counter space is taken up by an espresso machine and all of the things that go with it. It’s neat in here, too. Not a dish or cup out of place.
“I like it,” you turn and he’s there, an inch away from you. “Can I see the rest?”
“Of course.”
The rest being his bedroom, and he leads you right in. It’s a little darker in here, but it’s still very him. It’s sweet, a little bit colorful, and very very soft.
The dog plush on top of one of his pillows reminds you of something important, “oh, you're collar. It's at home.”
“My collar? You got me a collar?”
“Yeah, it’s really cute.” You close the gap between you and grab the neck of his shirt, “sit.”
He does. Seungmin sits on the edge of his bed, not breaking eye contact. He leans back and rests on his hands, stretches out his long torso, spreads his knees as you put a leg between them. "What does it look like?"
You run your hand up to his throat and very, very lightly close your hand around it. No need to scare him off immediately. You want to squeeze, but right now you’re perfectly content just touching him "It's red...dark red, and has a gold chain across the front."
"A bell?"
“Of course. A tag, if you want.”
His eyes light up, and his hand wraps around your thigh, thumb moves in gentle circles. It sends a little shiver up your arms. He’s making your head swim, and you need to get a hold of yourself.
"...but you won't be fucking me."
"Huh?" he stops, and his mouth opens a little.
It seems a little bold of him, but he slides both hands up your thighs, up your hips, and hooks his fingers underneath your leggings. You told him he won’t be fucking you, and yet…
He pulls down, gently, until you can kick them to the side...and he looks up at you with pleading eyes. You grab a handful of his pretty hair and put his lips on you, and he kisses your hip so softly, you feel like you could melt.
“No," you push him back a little and straddle him. He’s resting on one elbow, and the other hand is slowly moving up toward your ass. “No, pup…I’m fucking you.”
He mouths the word pup, bites down on his lips, tries to hold back his smile. “Yes, please.”
“Please? Oh, I knew you were the one.”
“I am,” Seungmin falls to his back, and sighs…moans, “I am, noona.” His hips buck up and he looks down at his quickly growing erection. Seungmin was probably already halfway there when he invited you up.
He needs let loose, but first you feel him over his clothes. He’s a handful, and he twitches when your fingers move along his length.
“Please…” he whispers, and his puppy eyes are impossible to deny. Now you want to give him everything. “Take care of me.”
“Oh, Seungmin…” you unbuckle his belt, unbutton, unzip. Very slowly. “I will.”
“Minnie.”
“Hmm?” You run a hand over him again, and the red, needy tip of his cock peeks out from his briefs. “What’d you say?”
“Call me—“ he’s cut short by your lips wrapping around his head. His moan cuts through you, your pussy throbs, and your mouth sucks him in a little more. “…call me Minnie.”
“Minnie,” you moan, licking the pre-cum from his stomach. “Minnie, you’re so hard for me.”
Finally, you pull at the sides of his jeans, slide them down his legs, and throw them to the side. You suck him in as far as you can—he squirms, and his hips jerk up toward your mouth, pushing him in even further. A slap on his thigh settles him, letting you work him at your own pace. You don’t want him anywhere near close yet, because you’re just getting started.
“Are you gonna be good for me?” You look at him, stroke him slowly, take in the rest of his body. His sweatshirt is still on, but pushed up just enough for you to see his stomach.
“Yes, I’ll be good.”
You lean down and kiss his stomach, run your tongue across his belly button, “take that off.”
Seungmin listens and pulls his sweatshirt over his head.
“Look at me.”
He does. He doesn’t break eye contact when you suck him back into your mouth, stroke hard and slow, lick the pre-cum leaking out of him again. His moan is desperate and whiny, just how you like it.
“You’re so pretty, Minnie.” You crawl over him, leaving kisses on his body as you go, and when you stop at his throat, he whines a little and licks his lips. “So sweet.”
You’re making him blush. And you give him no warning when you take his dick and slide it across the wet fold of your cunt. His fingers grip your thighs, and you let him hold on as you push him in. Despite how wet you are, it takes a little work. You slide down slowly until he disappears completely inside of you.
The sound he makes for you is so much better, so much softer than you thought it would be—he’s already begging for more.
You grind your hips into him and stretch yourself around his thickness, get used to how much he’s filling you up. “Minnie,” you moan. “Fuck.”
You could do this until you come. You might. He seems like he's enjoying himself, too.
His hips lift and hit you deeper. You let him, because it feels too good. He mumbles something, but you’re too lost in how he’s making you feel.
When your hands grip the sheets next to him, his wrap around your arms, slide up, and then back down. “You feel so good,” he purrs.
You lift your hips and bounce on him, slowly at first, because he’s already losing it. He has no problem making noise and his moans drown out whatever he’s trying to say…
so good… don’t… stop… please… ah… so tight...I'm gonna...
“Oh no baby, not yet,” you slow down and grind on him again, hitting just the right spot. You lean back and hit it even harder, over and over. Each pound against his hips makes him whine. “Pup, you’re gonna make me come already, you’re such a good boy.”
You do. You look at him as you squeeze him tight, relax, and gently bounce up and down. Seungmin smiles and licks his lips—the only sound is the wet slide of him being covered in your come, and it's all he can keep his eyes on.
He bucks up hard, “I wanna come,” and again, you let him. He’s getting away with far too much, but he feels so good, and he’s too cute, and he’s too gentle. And you can’t wait to make him come. But not yet.
“Soon Minnie, I promise,” you lean forward and groan with the change in angle. “I want you all night.” You place a kiss on his chest, bite and kiss his nipple.
“I can come for you…all night.”
“I bet you can.”
“Kiss me, please.”
“I am…” you laugh and work you way further up.
“Please,” he whispers. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for weeks.”
“You have?”
“Yeah…mhm, I have.”
“Oh, you…you like me, huh? I mean—”
Seungmin nods, “don’t you like me?”
“I like you very much,” you kiss the corner of his mouth, bite his lip, and then finally press your lips against his. He kisses so eagerly, so hungrily, you almost can’t keep up with his tongue.
He hums and moans down your throat, holds onto your thighs tight enough to leave marks—fucks you, slowly and deeply, rolling his hips so smoothly you can already feel another orgasm rising. You wonder if he even knows how good he is.
“Min—” you just barely get it out around his lips. “Minnie…”
He slows down, but doesn’t stop.
“Easy,” you finally pry him off of you and push him down, hand just below his throat, “take it easy.”
“Sorry,” Seungmin slows his hips down even more, and eventually comes to a stop. His fingers are still digging into your skin, and his chest is heaving.
“No,” you run your fingers up and down his throat, kiss him one more time, and pull him up by the back of his neck until he’s sitting. “Nothing to be sorry for, you’re still a good boy.”
This has been too easy. You weren’t sure how easy it would be to get him underneath you, falling apart, begging for more…but you had a feeling he wanted it just as much as you. What you weren’t completely sure of was how much control he’d give to you.
Luckily, Seungmin is just what you hoped he would be: gentle, pliant, needy for attention, and very horny.
He melts into your touch—your fingers running through his hair, your thumbs running over his ears, still red and warm. You kiss and suck at the skin on his jaw, not caring if you leave marks. And very slowly, you start to move your hips again.
You have his shoulders for leverage now, and your arms are wrapped loosely around him. From this position he could take so much more control, but he doesn’t. He’s content just watching you move on him, looking up every so often until you look back. Every time you do, a smile tugs at his lips, and you can tell he just wants to kiss you again.
Keeping it from him is becoming a challenge. He craves touch and affection, and he might be the most patient, well-behaved fuck you’ve had in a long time, so you will give it to him eventually.
“Seungmin?” His name feels so nice rolling off of your tongue.
He looks at you…flushed, sweat rolling down the bridge of his nose. He answers by sliding his palm up along your spine.
“Seungmin…” you lock your arms around him, pull him in until your foreheads are touching, and start fucking him faster. He holds you steady, pulls you toward him, grinds you on his cock just how he likes it. “Oh god…ah, just like that, pup. Fuck.”
“Yeah?” He leans forward and kisses, “that feels good, hm?”
His words come out so heavy and warm and thick. You can’t stop him, you won’t. He keeps his pace and movements so steady, and it feels so good you could cry.
“Come for me, please. I wanna hear you.”
Seungmin, you whine his name, pathetically, like you’re falling apart, because you are. You moan and your legs start to shake, but he holds you tighter and keeps you moving on him. In and out, back and forth. Right where you need it. Over and over.
You cry out, and he smiles as he works you through it—gradually slowing down as you relax...then he lifts you up and off of him.
“No, I’m not done with you.”
“Just a little break,” he pushes his forehead against yours again, closes in on your lips, but you shake your head.
“You’re not in charge, pup.”
“I’m not, I know. Catch your breath.”
“You feel so good...I wanna keep going.”
“Not yet…” he grabs you around the middle and puts you on your back. “Relax.”
“Minnie…what are you doing?”
The room spins. You close your eyes. The bed shifts as he lays down, and you feel a blanket being pulled up and over you. And then his arm is there, pulling you against his warm body and holding you tight. Seungmin is turning everything upside down. You’re melting into him, and you like it.
“What about you?” You mumble into his chest, “I wanna make you feel good.”
“You are…don’t worry. We’re just catching our breath.”
“Seungmin”
He rubs your back, “hmm?” pulls away just enough to look at you.
“Nothing”
“Nothing? You sure?”
“No. What are we doing? Ooh…you like me.” It’s hard not to smile when you say it out loud again. “Do you, really?”
He laughs and tries to hide his face behind the blanket. “Yeah, sorry. Am I complicating things?”
“You are, but it’s okay.”
“Is it too much? We can keep going, if that’s what you want. You can take over again.”
“Is this what you like, sweetie?” You slide a fingertip along his jaw and over his ear. “Just being like this? Kissing…” you pull him close for one, “touching.”
“Yeah, yeah I do.” Seungmin is excited and relaxed and nervous all at once. You’re a little more than he was expecting, but he’s not going to complain. He wanted this. He still wants it.
Another kiss on his lips, “you just want taken care of, yeah?”
He nods.
“Good,” as soon as you wiggle your hand free, you slide it down his stomach until your fingertips find him, still hard. Taking care of Seungmin is the only thing on your mind now; making him feel good, giving him all the attention and affection he needs. Making sure he comes back for more.
Slow, gentle strokes—a kiss between his eyes, on the tip of his nose. You almost get teeth when you go for the smile on his lips.
His hands are all over you, touching everywhere he can.
You swallow every little moan that passes his lips, every hitch in his breath when he can’t keep from pushing his hips against you. He gets closer, and he wants more, but you just keep kissing him and touching him just enough.
“Can I…”
“Hmm?”
His eyes scan your face, and he pushes you flat on your back again. Before you even think of protesting, he’s on you, lips on your neck, hands on your thighs, hips grinding into yours. He stretches you out and his thumb finds your clit, still swollen and sensitive.
You focus on kissing him and letting him work. It’s not that you can’t give up control—you just usually don’t. Seungmin is making it easy, though. His pace isn’t too much. He’s not smothering you, and he’s not selfishly pounding you into the bed. Your thighs are resting on his lap, hips up, legs curled around him. And every time he slides in, his dick hits right where you need it to. You can breath between his kisses, and you can enjoy every soft movement of his fingers.
“Should’ve let you take over sooner…”
A pretty smile spreads across his face, and you get lost in his eyes; two big black crescent moons, squished by his pink cheeks. You’ve never had someone smile at you like him. Not while they fucked you like this, at least.
“So good...feels so good,” you barely hear him when he breathes it out. "Does it, baby?"
His mouth is on yours before you can answer, wet and messy, teeth biting and pulling at your lips—down to your throat, he bites and sucks and licks at the sweat forming there.
“You like leaving marks, pup?” You ask, but in your head is an echo of him calling you baby.
The mhmm against your neck makes you shiver.
“Should I keep them out for your friends to see?”
Seungmin is up and back in your face… "yes"…forehead against yours, “please.”
He’s getting so close. Whiney shallow breaths, slow deep thrusts.
“Come in me…it’s okay.”
That…and your fingers grabbing for his hair—that’s all he needed. It hits him and he falls onto you. Your hands move to wrap around his waist, and you hold tight as he slows himself and fills you up. All of his weight on you feels so good, though. His sweat and his heat, his heavy breaths moving across your face.
He shifts to kiss your neck again. Softly, though...no marks this time.
The room is quiet for a while, and only sounds are your legs rubbing against the sheets, against his thighs, the wet release of Seungmin’s lips on your skin.
“You okay?” He finally breaks the silence. “Was that okay?”
You nod and knead your fingers into his shoulders, “you have a good touch, pup.”
“I like that," he sighs, pulls himself out, crashes down next to you. But his arm stays draped over your stomach,
“Hmm, what do you like?”
He props himself up and bats his eyes at you, “I like being pup. Do you call…um, do you call other guys cute nicknames?” Seungmin looks away when he finally stutters it out.
“What makes you think there are other guys?”
And now his face turns bright red. “Oh, sorry, you’re just...you seem like you know what you're doing. You know what you want."
“It's alright. There hasn’t been anyone in a while.”
“Just me,” he whispers, and smirks.
“You’re my only pup.”
"Good."
Lips press against your shoulder, his arm squeezes and brings you closer. You can't help but lean into his embrace. Even now, after everything is done, at least for the moment, you can't escape your growing feelings for him. Sex didn't quench the desire—you don't want to get dressed and leave, you don't want to be done and rid of him until the feeling returns.
The guys you usually sleep with are one night stands for a reason, and you never think of them again when they leave. And you certainly don't give them cute nicknames.
"You threw me off a little, though."
"I did? What did I do?" he laughs, and he has no idea how much it cuts through you. "You were amazing."
"You're so sweet."
Seungmin searches your face, but he can’t figure out what’s going on in your head. It seems like you feel the same as he does, or it did, but right now is when it matters. You caught each other, you poured yourselves out all over place. Now what?
"What's wrong?" he gets even closer, and his nose is almost brushing against yours. "Coming down from everything, maybe? Do you want me to get your stuff so you can get dressed?"
"No, I don't wanna leave."
The relief that washes over his face—you can see it. He isn’t trying to be subtle, because Seungmin has already confessed his feelings to you. You kind of did, too. The difference is, you lied, because you weren’t totally, completely, one hundred percent sure until a few minutes ago.
Now he’s looking down at you like he didn’t just give you three orgasms, and like his come isn’t slowly dripping out of you.
“Not yet.”
“You can stay as long as you want.”
“I can take us to work in the morning.”
“You wanna spend the night? Ah, I can make us dinner, and breakfast…unless, maybe that’s too much.”
“No, it's not. But I am wondering something..."
He’s so eager to hear. He rests his chin on you and grins, “what is it?”
“Can we do that again? Can you really come all night?
329 notes · View notes
tonyspank · 9 months
Text
SHE
Jenna Ortega x G!P Reader
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New York was a city full of opportunity and possibilities. It was a place where people could come to pursue their dreams and make their mark in the world. It was vibrant and alive, and it was a place that gave people hope. You and your best friend Ross decide to move to the big apple, and you meet a woman who drastically changes your life.  That woman being Jenna Ortega.
This oneshot includes mature themes such as foul language, sexual activity, acts of violence and etc.
Jenna and any other celebrities in this book are not famous unless said otherwise.
This is also very rushed, I wanted to get something out, so I’ll be revising it soon. Also this is inspired by that one Netflix show, I can’t say which one because then it’ll spoil a lot of stuff.
WORDS; 8.6K
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"Bro. Please, just please go to the store." The blonde-haired boy basically pleads from the couch. You throw your head back dragging your feet against the white tile floor that leads to the kitchen. You take a deep breath and grab your keys off the kitchen table. You look back with a sigh and say, "Alright, I'll go," before heading out the door.
You walk to your car, still not entirely sure why you agreed to go. You get in, start the engine, and drive off toward the store. You live in the less busy part of New York, free from the loud noises of cars honking and random arguments of people on the street.
Ross Lynch, your best friend who just got accepted to his dream job of working at a tech company, just moved into a new apartment with you. With Ross being at work and you decorating and buying appliances, you didn't have time to go grocery shopping.
The two of you have been ordering takeout every day for the past two weeks. Ross's complaining and along with your stomach eventually convinces you not to avoid the task any longer. Now at the supermarket, you grab a cart and browse the shelves for the items you need. It was late, so the store was nearly empty.
At least that's what you thought. Your head turns toward the sudden voice, "Excuse me." The brunette girl smiles, and you find yourself mesmerized by her beauty. Her dark hair was tied into a messy bun, and her bangs fell into her face.
She reaches up and brushes them away, revealing her deep brown eyes. And also showcases the large amount of freckles that danced across her face, she was breathtakingly beautiful. You find yourself staring, unable to look away.
"I uh, I can't find a worker and I also can't reach this stupid bag of popcorn. Could you help me?" Your heart skips a beat as she speaks to you, her voice as sweet as honey. You can feel yourself blushing before you dumbly nod in response. She smiles and lets out a small laugh before thanking you. You feel a warmth in your chest as you approach the aisle she was in. She points to the white bag of popcorn and you reach it with ease.
"Here you go." She takes the popcorn and looks at you with a grateful smile. "Thank you so much." You nod, "Happy to help." She turns to leave but you stop her. "If you need anything else you know where to find me."
She furrows her eyebrows and you mentally slap yourself for being unable to talk to pretty girls. Her head tilts slightly and you swear your heart rate just increased. "You're going to be in the same aisle... until I leave?"
She gives you an alluring smirk and you feel yourself blushing. Your hands sweat as you mumble a response, barely able to believe this is happening. "Uh? No, but maybe I could just join you until you leave. You know, just in case you need anything else."
You watch her eyes glance around your face, almost as if she's having a mental battle with herself. She breaks her gaze and smiles. "Sure, why not? I'd like that." She replies, her voice a low whisper. You take a deep breath, feeling a wave of relief wash over you as you follow her.
"Wait. I have to grab my cart really quick." She hums in acknowledgment and waits outside of your aisle while you quickly retrieve your cart. "I'm Y/N by the way." You introduce yourself and your face feels like it's on fire. She smiles in response, "Jenna."
"Bread and peanut butter. Not a jelly kind of person?" She says, her eyes scanning the few items in your cart. "I actually like to make my own jelly." You admit proudly.
She raises her eyebrows in surprise. "That's a cool idea. I've never thought of that. Is it difficult to make?"
"No, not at all," you reply. "It's actually quite simple. You just need a few ingredients and a bit of time." You smile and start walking toward the dairy aisle. She glances at you, her curiosity piqued. You start to explain the process in more detail, pointing out what ingredients you need and how to put them together.
"Hm... I might give it a try." You encourage her to do so, assuring her that it is easy and the results will be worth it. She grabs a bottle of sour cream, holding it in her right hand as she holds the bag of popcorn under her shoulder. "Are you making something?" You ask, curious at the different items in her hands.
She nods with a smile and replies, "I'm going to make cheesecake. I've been craving it for the past week."
You grab a few random stuff off the shelf, tossing it in your cart just so Ross can't say you didn't shop. Jenna's a few steps ahead of you, not noticing you've stopped. You quickly jog back up to her, sending her a smile. She smiles back, unaware of the random shopping you had done. "I love cheesecake,—"
"—It's a superior dessert." Jenna laughed. "I'm glad you're so passionate about it." She started walking again, this time more slowly, and you followed her. "Why are you shopping so late? If you don't mind me asking that is." Jenna asks, brushing her bangs out of her view of sight again.
You tap the handle of the cart, puckering out your lips. "Uhhh, I actually just moved here and I've been avoiding the task of going grocery shopping. My roommate— Ross, had to beg me to go." Jenna's eyes scan the shelves, and then they meet yours again with a small laugh falling from her lips. "Where did you move from?"
"Los Angeles." You inform her. She gasps in surprise. "Wow, that's a big change! I'm sure it's been a bit of an adjustment." She smiles. "Well, at least you have Ross to help you get accustomed."
You shrug your shoulders turning left at the end of the aisle. "Yeah, I guess. He's been busy though, with a new job and all. Which is the reason we moved." She nods in understanding before saying, "Well, it's still good to have a friend. Especially when you're in a new environment." You smile in agreement and the conversation drifts to other topics.
"Wait? What? You met Obama and got a photo of him?" Jenna asks in disbelief. You laugh as you nod your head and tell her the story of how you met the former president. Jenna shakes her head in disbelief, still astounded by the story. "Here look," you pull out your phone, scrolling a bit before showing it to her.
"Holy shit." She glances at you and then back at your phone. "You were telling the truth. How on earth did you manage to meet him?" You smile, "A legend never tells." She shakes her head in even more disbelief. "Well, you certainly have some impressive secrets." You begin unloading your cart which was filled with a bunch of random items.
You had a whole pineapple, a loaf of brioche bread, butter, peanut butter, a bottle of ketchup, a jar of pickles, and a bunch of other things. She looks at you curiously and asks, "What do you plan on making with all this?"
You pause, "I—" and you honestly cannot think of anything you could make with it. "I have no idea." She laughs and says, "Ross is going to kill you." You wave her off while the cashier finishes ringing up your items. "He'll live." The cashier begins typing on the screen before finishing bagging up your last item, the price showing on the mini screen in front of you.
"Off of that food? I don't think so," Jenna jokes. You laugh pulling out your card and swiping it. The cashier hands you your receipt and you thank him before you turn to Jenna. "You're funny." Jenna grins and places her two items on the belt. "I know, I should become a comedian."
You switch the bags to one hand. "I'd pay for every stand-up." Jenna laughs and slightly pouts her lips. "Aw, my number one supporter." She takes her bag from the cashier and you begin walking out of the store together. "Of course. You're going to see me in the crowd with a t-shirt with your face on it."
Jenna laughs and you start to smile wider at the sound. "I'd call security right away", she says in a jokingly serious tone. You smile continuing to walk to the girl's car. Once you arrive your smile fades.
Jenna unlocks her truck placing the singular bag down, turning to you. She gives you a tight-lipped smile and looks into your eyes. "Take care of yourself," she says. "It was nice meeting you."
You nod in response, not able to find the words to thank her. She gives you one last smile before getting into her car and starting the engine. You stand there for a few moments, watching her drive away until she disappears from sight.
You turn and walk toward your car, feeling grateful for the moment you shared with her. You take a deep breath and let out a sigh, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you. "I should've got her number." You mumble to yourself.
You shake your head putting your bags in the passage seat and get into your car before starting the engine and driving away. When you arrive at the parking garage, you spot an empty spot and pull in.
You sigh in relief as you turn off the engine and get out of the car. You take a moment to stretch before heading inside. Humming a random song, you make your way to the elevator. A person beats you to it and you furrow your eyebrows. She looked so familiar—wait. It was Jenna.
You speed up your movements to the elevator arriving faster. "Jenna?" She jumps at the sound of your voice, a very confused look on her face. "I live here as well," you say, hoping to help her relax. She looks around, realizing the situation and a small laugh escapes her lips. "Oh wow. I didn't expect that."
"Me either," the elevator dings, the doors opening soon after. You two step inside and Jenna reaches for the button. "Could you press eight—" Before you could finish your sentence another ding is heard. She had already pressed the button. Your mouth forms an "o" in surprise. "I guess we live on the same floor."
She smiles slightly before chuckling, "This is starting to scare me." You smile back, "Yeah, it's like fate brought us together." She nods, stepping out of the elevator as the doors open. "See you around," she says. You both begin to walk in the same direction, causing even more confusion. If that was possible.
She stops, turning to you with a puzzled look. "I think we're going the same way," she says. You both share a smile before continuing on your way.
Shit, you two were next-door neighbors.
You felt embarrassed that you didn't know earlier, but you were also glad that you were neighbors. You figured it would make things easier since you'd be seeing each other again. "Shit, how didn't I connect the dots?" Jenna mutters. "Well, at least we know now." You say and smile back in understanding.
Jenna smiled back. "Yeah, now it all makes sense. Tell Ross that he's in my prayers." She jokes. You both laughed, and the awkwardness between you melted away. You both said your goodbyes, and Jenna promised to keep in touch and you both went back to your respective apartments.
As you place the bags down in the apartment, Ross makes his way to the kitchen. "Took you long enough." He mumbles under his breath, and you roll your eyes. "What the—" He searches the bags, a strong furrow in his brows. "Y/N? What the hell is all of this?"
You smile sheepishly, "I got distracted." Your mind begins to flood with images of your brunette neighbor that you'd introduced yourself to at the supermarket.
"I'll just DoorDash groceries." He sighs out, turning to walk to the living room. "You should've done that in the first place!" You yell out after him.
"THE APP IS DOWN!" He shouts back, a loud groan following after.
It's the next morning and you're sitting at the kitchen island, Ross walks through the door, multiple bags in his hands. You raise your head from your phone, giving Ross a confused look.
He places the bags on top of the counter and you can feel the tension in the room, and you can see the light irritation on his face.
"Woah, Mr. Grumpypants. I told you I was going to get the groceries today." Ross sends you a look, taking a few items out of the plastic bags. "Really?" He tilts his head and you nod, "Because last time you said you would and ended up getting distracted."
You frown at the tone of his voice, "Dude. I'm sorry, I was going to go once you went to work."
Ross apologizes letting out a loud sigh, he shakes his head waving you off with his free hand. "Shit, sorry. I've just been stressed lately."
You mumble an, "It's okay. I understand." Before getting up and helping him put away the groceries.
Ross didn't know it but the day you moved into your new apartment you had been applying for jobs. Ross was making more than enough to cover for your new apartment, but you didn't want to live off of your best friend.
Today you had three interviews lined up, one for a bookstore, one for a restaurant and one for a local flower shop. You were getting very desperate, the pays weren't a lot but it would have to do until you found a full-time position.
You hadn't seen your neighbor. Well, you have seen her. You were walking around the neighborhood and saw Jenna pulling up, she rolled down the window and say her hello's before entering the parking garage.
Then you had seen her again, she exiting her apartment as you were entering yours. She greeted you with a squeeze on your arm before going about her day. Every time you'd see Jenna her hellos would get more touchier, but never taking it too far.
You were exhausted and your mind was on a spiral. Having done three interviews back to back, and the horrible traffic of New York had made you feel like you were going to collapse at your door.
You fumble with your keys, attempting to unlock your door, but they drop from your hands. "C'mon, man." You mumble to yourself letting out a dramatic sigh as you reach for your keys.
You didn't even notice the brunette that passed you, taking out her own pair of keys until you heard them jingle. You look to your left seeing Jenna already looking your way, a playful smile on her face.
"You look nice. Had a date?" You give a small smile shaking your head. Jenna's eyes roam your face taking in all of your features, you were so damn attractive. From your eyebrows to your eye, to your nose and even your alluring lips.
But while she shamelessly checked you out she noticed the tired look in your y/e/c eyes, her lip slightly turning downwards. "Oh, date went bad?"
Inhaling a breath you shake your head again, "No, interview actually." Jenna steps away from her door, coming closer to you. "You look stressed." Her hand rests on your forearm, and you glance down at her touch before meeting her dark and brown sincere eyes.
"I made a cheesecake, come try it." Cheesecake? You really did love cheesecake. You remember back in sixth grade your entire social media account was based on your love for cheesecake.
It had become one of your favorite desserts after your mom replaced it for a birthday cake.
"Uh," You hesitate. You didn't wanna intrude her personal space. But god did that cheesecake sound tempting. "Sure."
Jenna flashes a smile at you, giving your forearm a slight squeeze. You pocket your keys following behind Jenna who holds the door open for you, "Don't mind the mess." She mutters, picking up the empty water bottle off of her kitchen island and throwing it in the trash.
Her apartment was the same size as yours, the decorations modern and bright, white everywhere. There were white walls with sleek and elegant furniture, natural lighting shining through as her white curtains are pulled apart. "Your place is nice."
"Thank you," You sit down on a white bar stool, and she reaches into her fridge pulling out the cheesecake. You swear your mouth began watering at the sight.
"That looks so delicious." She grins at your reaction scooting the dish closer to you. You watch as she pulls a plate and fork, platting your slice of cheesecake.
"Enjoy," She says, sitting down next to you and resting her head in her hand. You glance at her with a smile before picking up the fork and taking a decent bite of the New York-style slice of dessert.
Her eyes watch you intensely, searching for your reaction. Swallowing the piece of cheesecake you nod, twisting your bar stool to face Jenna completely. "Can I keep the whole cake?" You joke Jenna's face breaks out in a smile and she leans into you, holding your bicep.
"Only if you give me a jar of your jelly." You pursed your lips, pretending to think. "Okay fine, deal." You say, taking another bite of your food and she lets go of you.
"Is it not tight?" Jenna asks, your forehead creases in confusion from the lack of context. Her mouth twitches upward as she gestures to your tie.
"Your tie. Is it not tight?" You glance at the black tie around your neck, shrugging. It suddenly felt tighter than before, "Now that you're saying something, maybe a bit."
You reach for your tie but her own hands beat you, loosening it up. "Better?" She asks, her eyes glancing around your face. Staring a bit too long at your lips, you slowly nod sparing a glance at her pink lips. "Mhm," you hum quickly looking away. Her hands slip away, but her gaze remains. You take a deep breath, but your heart is still racing.
"So, what's the story? Why do you love cheesecake so much?" You breathe out a laugh, "Can people just not like cheesecake anymore?" She puckers her lips, tilting her head. Cute.
"Yeah, but not as much as you do." You try to fight back a smile but fail miserably, "Well, it was my fourteenth birthday... and my mom was working overtime, so she had to get my birthday cake late." You glance at Jenna who nods, paying attention to every word you're saying.
"And the store didn't have any left, so she ended up settling with a cheesecake which I absolutely devoured. Ate the entire thing by myself and then proceeded to lie about it and say I dropped it on the floor and had to throw it out." Jenna laughs, holding a hand over her mouth attempting to silence her laugh. "Did she know you were lying?"
"Yes." You simply say, turning back to finish your slice of cheesecake, Jenna begins to talk about another topic, and you find yourself freely discussing and sharing your thoughts without hesitation. It felt like you had known her for years.
You couldn't help but smile as you thought about how easy it was to talk to her. You felt a connection with her that you had never experienced before. You knew that she was someone special and that you wanted to get to know her better.
You could tell she felt the same way, and you were eager to see where the friendship would go. "My friends are going out to this club tonight, do you wanna join?" Jenna asks out of the blue, Jenna smiled, waiting for your response. You were taken aback by the invitation, but excited at the same time. You hesitated for a moment before saying, "Uh, sure."
Jenna's face lit up with a smile and she said, "Great! Let's meet up at 8 o'clock and go together." You agreed and the two of you made plans to meet up later that night, ready to see what the night would bring. When 8 o'clock came around, Jenna was already outside your door waiting for you. She had a big grin on her face, clearly excited for the night ahead.
You, on the other hand, had your jaw dropped to the floor at her beauty, though it already established she was gorgeous when you first saw her. You managed to regain your composure and walked out the door, flashing her a big smile. She smiled back, and you could feel your heart racing as she locked arms with you, making your way downstairs and into her car. You drove to the club, talking and laughing the whole way. When you arrived, you couldn't help but feel like you were walking on air.
You felt like you were in a dream as she opened the door of the club and you stepped inside. You looked around, amazed at the beauty of the place and the vibrant atmosphere. The night had only just begun, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. "Jenna!" A man's voice calls.
You both look over and see a friend of Jenna's waving them over. As they make their way to the table, Jenna turns to you and smiles. "Ready to have some fun tonight?" She asks.
You nod, feeling the energy of the club around you. Taking her hand, you walk to the table, ready to make the most of your night. "Hey, everyone! This is Y/N, we're neighbors." Jenna introduces you, and you wave timidly.
Everyone smiles and welcomes you, "Hey, I'm Mason." A handsome brown-skinned man says to you, "This is Mikey," the woman waves at you shyly, a small smile on her lips. "Jack," he nods his head a you smiling. "And Melissa." She waves at you with two hands, muttering, "Hello."
You take a seat next to Jenna and the group starts talking, laughing and joking. You smile, feeling welcomed and accepted. You feel a sense of belonging like you have always been part of the group. You relax and enjoy the conversation, talking about random things.
The conversation drifts to more serious topics and everyone shares their unique perspectives. You feel energized by the exchange of ideas and the group's willingness to listen and learn from each other. This is the kind of environment you want to be in.
"I'm going to get us some drinks," Melissa says, standing up. Everyone eagerly agrees. Melissa goes to the bar and Mason follows behind her to help. "So, Y/N." You hum in response, turning your head to Jack. Jack continues, "What do you think of everyone so far?" You smile, "Everyone's really nice. I'm glad I came," you reply. "Me too," Jack says. "I'm sure we'll have a great time tonight."
Jenna squeezes your thigh and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. You laugh nervously and glance at Jack, who seems oblivious to Jenna's gesture. She grins and removes her hand, the corner of her mouth turned up in amusement. You take a deep breath and turn back to Jack, trying to focus on the conversation.
"We got the drinks!" Melissa and Mason shout, raising the drinks in their hands. Everyone turns to the two, cheering. You glance at Jenna, who is smiling and clapping along with everyone. You smile back at her and turn back to Jack, who furrows his eyebrows when he's not handed a drink.
"No can do Jack, you're too young." Mason says, wiggling his finger in a 'no' motion. Jack scowls and crosses his arms over his chest. "But Jenna has one more year to go!" Jenna laughs sipping on her drink. "Yeah, but she gives off Wednesday Addams vibes and I don't wanna end up dying," Mason says, smiling at Jack.
Jack sighs and shakes his head. "Fine, I guess I'll just have to wait 'til I'm older." He says, disappointed. Mason puts an arm around Jack's shoulder and they all laugh. The night goes on and everyone is enjoying themselves, you especially. Their group felt like a big dysfunctional, but happy family.
Before the night was over, you excused yourself to get another drink. You head to the bar and order your drink. As you wait, you scroll through your phone, reading emails to see if anyone has emailed you back about a job.
You sigh and put your phone away. "Ex didn't text back?" A voice says, catching you off guard. You turn around and are met with green eyes, "Job didn't text back, I've been looking for quite a bit." You say, flustered at the beauty of the woman in front of you.
She laughs, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Don't give up too soon, you're in New York! There are opportunities everywhere." She takes a step closer, her hand outstretched. "I'm Ana, by the way. What's your name?" You take her hand and smile, "Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N."
She shakes your hand firmly. "Relax. This isn't a job interview, no need for the full name." She lets out a thunderous laugh, and you can't help but smile at the sound. "Let's go," she says. "I'll show you the city." You hesitate, glancing over at Jenna who's laughing with her friends.
You take one last look at Jenna and then nod at Ana. She smiles and takes your hand and leads you forward, the bright lights and bustling streets of New York ahead of you. You feel a thrill of excitement as you step away from the shelter of the alley and into the vibrant city. Together, you and Ana start to explore all that New York has to offer.
A large slice of pizza is in your hand and you and Ana walk down the streets of New York, asking questions about each other. "Ana de Armas? That's a pretty fancy name," Ana smiled. "It's Spanish," Ana said. "My family is from Cuba. I'm actually named after my mother." You hum, nodding your head before taking a bite out of your pizza.
Ana grins. "It's nice to have something that connects me to my heritage." She takes a deep breath and looks around. "This city has a lot of history, doesn't it?" You look around with her, "Yeah... and a lot of interesting people."
She pauses and looks at you with a faint smile. "Are you trying to call me interesting Y/N?" You laugh and smile. "Yes, of course." She gives you a playful shove, and you both keep walking, admiring the city around you.
You talked about the sights and sounds of the city and shared stories from your past. You both felt a connection that was growing more and more with every step. She looked at you with a twinkle in her eye and said, "Maybe we should do this again sometime."
"Yeah." You sigh out, taking your hands out of your pocket. The two of you stared at each other in silence. You smiled, realizing that you were both thinking the same thing. You leaned in and kissed her, your hands landing on her waist as she wrapped her arms around your neck.
You both were lost in the moment, enjoying the kiss and the feeling of being together. You pulled away, still looking into each other's eyes, and smiled. There was no need for words; the moment said it all, but she spoke anyway.
"I don't want this night to end." You leaned in and kissed her forehead, taking a few moments to savor the moment. You grab her hand, intertwining your fingers, and say, "Let's go somewhere we can be together a little longer."
That's how you ended up in her bed, waking up in the morning to a phone call. You sit up tiredly, glancing at the unknown number before answering it. "Hello?" You rasp out, getting up from the bed completely. "Yes, is this Y/N speaking?"
"Yes, this is me," you reply, picking up your clothes from last night. "Hi! This is Zoe calling from Mooney's. I believe you applied for the bartending job here." "Yes, that's me," you say, feeling a bit embarrassed. You take a deep breath and try to sound confident. "Yes, I applied. What can I do for you?"
"Well, we looked over your resume and we think you're a good fit! Could you come in today for training or...?" "Yes, of course!" you reply. You quickly jot down the details of the training and hang up the phone, feeling a wave of relief and excitement. Fucking finally! You got a job.
The training wasn't as difficult as expected, pretty simple actually you just had to listen and follow instructions. Zoe leans against the bar. "Y/N Y/L/N," she begins, looking at you with a smile. You nodded in agreement before taking a sip of your water. Zoe continued, "See, that wasn't so bad."
You smiled and nodded again, relieved that the training wasn't as hard as you thought it would be. "Why the full name though?" Zoe chuckled and shrugged. "Just to make sure I have it right," she said. "No one wants to be mislabeled, right?"
You quickly tilt your head, shrugging. She laughs, "My full name is Zoë Isabella Kravitz, if it makes you feel any better." She gives you a wink before turning and heading back to the other side of the bar. You smile, "Much better." You take a sip of your drink and watch her as she moves away. You can't help but admire her confidence and easy grace.
You continue to observe her as she talks and laughs with the other patrons; she seems completely at ease and unbothered by the chaos of the night. She catches your eye and smiles at you before turning away. You smile back, putting back on your apron before helping her around the bar.
You pass her her drink and she thanks you with a wink. She takes it to the customers the old regulars, who welcome her with cheers and applause. She takes a seat and begins to talk and joke with them as if she had known them for years. You watch with admiration as she fits in so easily, making the customers feel at home. It's clear to you why they all love her.
Once the bar is closed you help clean up as well, hanging up your apron before taking a seat with a loud sigh. "Uh oh, that sounds like a first day and I'm already about to quit type of sigh." She jokes, hanging up her apron as well.
You laugh, shaking your head. "It was a long day, but I'm actually really glad I decided to take this job." She smiles, nodding in agreement. "Me too. It's been quite busy the past couple of weeks, it was nice to have a helping hand."
You both smile and the atmosphere suddenly lighter. You chat for a bit before saying goodbye and heading home, feeling a sense of satisfaction with your first day.
"There she is!" Jenna smiles, walking beside you to her own door. You smile at her, "Hey, Jenna." She smiles back, taking out her keys before speaking, "I haven't seen you since last night." You just disappeared. "I uh, had to do something," you reply. She shakes smiling, "Well, I'll talk to you later." She unlocks her door and waves goodbye before entering her home.
It's been months since that interaction, months since you've worked at the bar. Everything was falling into place. You helped Ross with rent, and you talked to Jenna daily, having your moments every now and then. You were on your way to surprise Jenna with a jaw of your homemade jam.
You knock on her door which she opens in a matter of seconds, only in a robe and slippers. "Oh? Is this a bad time? I can-" She smiles and steps aside. "No, come in. I just got out of the shower. I'm glad you're here."
She takes the jar from your hands and sets it on the counter. "This looks amazing. Thank you for thinking of me." She turns to you and hugs you. "It really means a lot to me that you'd do something like this for me." She pulls away and smiles.
"Yeah, of course. It's just a thank you for the cheesecake." She laughs. "You're too sweet. I appreciate it." She looks around the kitchen. "Here, let's try it together."
She sets two spoons on the counter and you open the jar, sitting down on the bar stool. You both take a spoonful of strawberry jam, staring at each other for a reaction. Her eyes widen, and she smiles. She takes another spoonful, and you do the same. You both savor the sweet flavor of the jam and the moment of connection.
She reaches out and takes your hand into hers. You can feel the warmth of her skin and the electricity of the moment. "How do you rate--" You're cut off by a pair of lips attaching to yours. She pulls away and looks into your eyes. You can feel your heart racing as you realize what just happened. She smiles and says, "That's how I rate it."
You bring her into another kiss, standing up from the bar stool as her hands get tangled in your hair. You break off the kiss and gaze at her in wonder. She smiles again and you can feel yourself falling for her. You move closer to her, your heart beating faster with anticipation as you bring her in for another kiss. She responds eagerly, her body melting into yours. The kiss deepens, and you know that you will never be the same.
Her hands move to your jacket, peeling it off of your body. She pulls you closer, her eyes never leaving yours as you move to the couch, your lips never breaking apart, you lower her onto the couch. You lightly brush your hands against her skin as you take in her beauty, and gosh, was it amazing.
Her eyes close as you move your lips to her neck, she lets out a soft moan and grips your shoulders. "Fuck, Y/N. I want you so bad." You smile as you feel her desire. You start to kiss her again, this time more passionately and with more intensity. You both forget everything else as you melt into each other.
"I want you too," you whisper back, sitting up to take off your shirt. She follows suit, eagerly taking off her robe and reaching for the zipper of your pants. You reach down and take off your pants, taking off your underwear as well.
She bites her lip as she leans forward and kisses you intensely, her hands exploring your body. You feel yourself growing at her touch, falling backwards as she straddles you. She smiles, her eyes filled with desire, and she takes your hand and guides you inside her.
You close your eyes as you feel her warmth envelop you. "I've been wanting you for so long," she sighs, moving her hips slowly. "Do you feel how wet I am?" You can feel her heat radiating through her, and the passion rising. You nod and pull her closer to you, letting your hands roam her body. Your lips meet in a passionate kiss.
You grip her tightly as you move in unison, her moans getting louder with each thrust. "Jenna." You moan, throwing your head back in pleasure. She cries out in pleasure her moments becoming faster and more needy, "Say my name again."
You whisper her name in her ear, she shudders and tightens her grip, her back arching as she cries out in pleasure. "I'm about to cum, shit..." She whines, gripping your bicep.
You bite your lip as you thrust one last time, feeling her body tense around you as the waves start to crash over her. She clings to you, her fingers digging into your skin as the pleasure washes over her. "Y/N!!!"
You groan, "Jenna. I'm about to cum." She bites her lip, "Cum inside me, c'mon baby fill me up." You let out a low moan as you release, feeling her walls contract around you. She wraps her arms around your neck, her lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss. You wrap your arms around her, holding her close as you both come down from the high.
"Round two?" She smiles, her eyes twinkling. She takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom. You both laugh, feeling the thrill of anticipation.
THREE MONTHS LATER
It was your birthday and Ross and Jenna decided to throw a party for you, a small one at least. Jack, Melissa, Mason, Mikey, and everyone came to celebrate. You had also invited Zoe, but she was running late as you anxiously bounced your leg on the couch.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang and you sprang up to open the door. To your surprise, Zoe had finally arrived and was standing at the doorstep with a big smile on her face.
"Isabella!" You jokingly shout you've been teasing Zoe about her middle name for a while now. Zoe laughed and shook her head in mock exasperation. She hugged you and stepped into the house. "It's so good to see you. Happy birthday!" she said.
You smiled and thanked her, and as she walk beside you, placing her arm on your bicep.
Ross looked over at Jenna who watched the situation with a blank face. "Who is that?" he asks, approaching Jenna, watching the scene in front of him. "Her co-worker." She answers, her eyes never leaving the two of you. Ross furrows his eyebrows, confused. "Why would she invite her co-worker to a birthday party?"
"I don't know." Jenna harshly says, jealously burning throughout her body. Ross looks back and forth between Jenna and the situation. "I mean she is cute." He says, shrugging as he takes another sip of his drink. Jenna rolls her eyes and looks at Ross. "Want me to ask if she's interested in idiot for you?" He lets out a laugh, shaking his head.
"I think I already know the answer because she's definitely interested in your girlfriend." Jenna scoffs in response, "It's not mutual."
"I never said it was." Jenna looks away, her expression unreadable. "Or maybe it is... a bit." Ross raises an eyebrow as Jenna continues, "I think Y/N's not fully... satisfied with our relationship."
Ross thinks for a bit before realizing where this is going. "Ugh, no Jenna. I do not wanna have this convo with you." Jenna grunts in frustration. "Too bad you are."
"No, the hell I'm not." He says before walking away. Jenna follows Ross, her voice rising in volume. "Ross, I'm trying to talk to you about something important." Ross lets out a dramatic groan, "I don't wanna talk to you about how you're not fucking my best friend right."
Jenna stops in her tracks, "Fine." Ross thanks her gratefully, before leaving to retrieve your birthday gift. Jenna does the same, leaving your apartment to go to hers and bring you the cheesecake she had made. When she returns she sees you hugging Zoe tightly before pulling away, a silver necklace in your hands. Jenna quickly walks away, upset and sad.
"You got her a cheesecake for her birthday? Really?" Ross says from behind her. "Yes." She replies blankly with an eye roll. Ross looks over to you, watching Zoe put the necklace around your neck. He then glances back at Jenna, sighing. "Don't worry, she doesn't even like wearing jewelry."
Jenna laughed, shaking her head. "At least I know what she likes." Ross smiled and the three of them shared a moment of understanding. Jenna smiled at Ross before turning back to you. She began walking over proudly, showcasing the cheesecake to you.
It read "Happy Birthday" with a red heart on it. "Aww, thank you, love." You smile, giving Jenna a quick peck. Jenna blushes, looking away bashfully. Ross chuckles, happy for the two of you as you all miss the frown on Zoe's lips. Zoe quickly looks away, pretending to be busy with her phone. Jenna notices and her smile widens.
It's been two more months since your birthday. Your life has been going okay. You're still working at the bar to help Ross and you're still dating Jenna, but you're so busy you barely get to see her. You miss her a lot and you want to make more time for her, but it feels like you're stuck in a rut. You've been thinking about making a change, but you don't know where to start. You sigh out, unlocking Jenna's front door and greeting her.
She quickly gets up from the couch, arms crossed. As you lean in for a kiss, she leans back. She looks away, and you can feel the distance between you. You take a deep breath, "What's wrong?" Her jaw clenches, "Where were you?"
You avoid her gaze and reply, "I was at work." She looks away again and shakes her head. "I don't believe you", she says. "Well, that's where I was!" She looks at you skeptically, "I don't believe you. You've been avoiding me for weeks."
You take a deep breath. You were so tired and you didn't wanna do this right now. "I've been working, Jen. You know this? I was doing overtime so Ross could have some days off."
She scoffs, uncrossing her arms. "Do you think I'm stupid?" You look away, not sure what to say. You don't want to argue, and you're telling the truth! "No."
"Then why the hell are you lying to me?" You take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "I'm not lying," you insist. "I'm honestly telling you the truth! I was WORKING." You say, raising your voice. She looks at you incredulously. "You expect me to believe that?" she says, shaking her head.
"Yes? It's the truth."
She shoves you, "Fucking liar!" You barely move at the shove.
"It IS the truth!" You reply angrily. She looks away, her face filled with anger and disbelief. "I don't believe you," she repeats. You grit your teeth, but take a deep breath. You know she won't believe anything you say, so you don't bother trying to defend yourself. "Okay, then, I'm done."
"Oh? You're done with me?" You sigh, running a hand down your face. "I meant with this," you motion with your hands. "I'm done with the argument. Or! Maybe I should be done with you. Maybe I'll be happier."
She doesn't say anything, and the two of you stand there in silence. After a few moments, you turn away and walk off without another word.
"That's all you remember?" The cop asks, writing on a notepad. You nod, sniffling. "Yeah, that's all I remember until I woke up." The cop finishes writing and looks up at you. "Are you okay to tell us more?"
You nod immediately, "I can tell you the rest." You take a deep breath and start speaking again. "The rest was fuzzy, blurry, and worrying. I wasn't scared," You shake your head, staring at the table for a second before locking eyes with the cop in front of you.
"I was worried. I wanted to know why I couldn't remember anything. When I woke up there was a bright light and glass surrounding me. I remember thinking... what happened? Where was I? Why wasI here?"
You sit up, breathing heavily. Glass, four walls, just pure glass. What the fuck was going on? You lift your hand to the back of your head and feel a bump. You slowly stand up and make your way to the glass wall, pressing your hands against it. You look around the room, searching for an exit.
There was a door. Locked. A small department to pass things through. Locked as well. You search for any other possible way out, but to no avail. Frustrated, you slam your fist against the wall. You were trapped. Suddenly, you hear a creaking sound of a door opening, you stare into the dark shadows, and suddenly someone appears from it.
"Jenna?" You whisper, tears beginning to form in your eyes. She steps forward and the look on her face, is terrifying. She wasn't going to let you out. She takes a step closer and you take a step back. You can see the determination in her eyes. She won't let you go.
She places a hand on the glass wall. "Don't be scared, Y/N." You take a deep breath and try to remain calm. You can see her eyes soften, but you know she still won't let you go. You press your hand against the glass, knowing you won't be able to get out.
"Please... please let me out, Jen." Jen slowly shook her head and said, "I can't, Y/N. I'm sorry." She looked away, letting out a sigh. "It's just... I do so much for you... it hurt to hear you say those words to me." You look away, a tear rolling down her cheek. "I was angry Jenna! I didn't mean it."
Jenna removes her hands from the glass, "You're just saying that. You don't care about me the way I care about you." You shake your head, "YOU HIT ME JENNA! AND—AND THEN YOU TRAP ME IN A CAGE? SOMEONE WHO CARES WOULDN'T DO THIS." Jenna looks away, silent. You take a deep breath and turn around, running a hand through your hair.
"Y/N. Y/N!" She shouts at you, and you turn around pressing your hand on the glass. Her brown doe eyes stare at you, taking in every detail of your face. "I love you." She presses her hand against the glass, mimicking your own. "And loving someone means you'll do anything for them."
You stare at her, unsure of where she's going with this. "Everything good that's been happening is because of me, Y/N." You shake your head, "What?"
"Ross getting his dream job, that was me playing with a few strings. You moving next to me, that was me as well. You getting that stupid fucking job, that was me as well! There have been things that I've done that I held out from you. Like killing Ana... she was going to ruin us, Y/N. I had to do it for us. We can be together now, without any worries."
Your eyes widen at the girl in front of you. Is that why Ana never reached out to you? Because she was dead? You take a step back in shock, not able to believe what you were hearing. You felt the tears come to your eyes as you take in the full situation. You were speechless. "Say something!" Jenna shouts, startling you out of your trance.
"Where—where's Zoe?" You whisper. Did she kill her too? Jenna's face falls at your words, removing her hand from the glass a second time. "Dead."
You shake your head in disbelief and your vision blurs as tears stream down your face. You sink to the ground, feeling a crushing wave of grief wash over you. You feel numb, unable to process the news. You try to take a deep breath, but it catches in your throat. You feel a sudden emptiness in your chest and a sinking feeling in your stomach. You slump against the wall, trying to make sense of what you just heard. "You're sick, Jenna! You're a fucking murderer!"
Your mind starts to think of the worst, "Are you going to hurt me? Oh my god, fuck!" Jenna rushes over to you, crouching to be eye-to-eye with you. "I'd never hurt you, Y/N." She presses both of her hands against the glass, watching as you look at her in horror.
She stares at you a bit before getting up and leaving, noticing this you stand back up. "JENNA! WAIT!" But she doesn't stop.
She returns the next morning with breakfast. You apologize for your behavior the night before and thank her for breakfast. She smiles and tells you that it's all right.
You had some time to think, to calm down, and to take everything in. Your girlfriend was kidnapping you, and she was doing it out of fear that you were going to leave her. If you want to escape this you know you have to tell her what she wants to hear.
That you forgive and you understand completely on why she was doing all of this.
You take a bite of your bagel and Jenna watches you, a small smile on her face as she sits in front of the cage eating her sandwich.
You look up and meet her gaze, offering a kind smile. "I used to eat bagels every day when I went to middle school," you tell her. Her face lights up. "Really? Isn't that kind of unhealthy?"
You laugh with her and nod, "Yeah, but I didn't care. I always thought only rich and privileged businessmen ate bagels so I begged my mom to buy some."
Jenna laughs, shaking her head before her smile begins to fade."I'm sorry. I know how much you miss her." You smile and shrug. "It's okay. We all just have our own way of coping." Jenna nodded in agreement smiling at you.
When you finish breakfast Jenna walks up to the cage, pressing her hand against the glass. You quickly stand up, mocking her movement. "Do you forgive me?" She whispers, and you can barely hear her.
"Fully. I had some time to think, and I understand that you only want what's best for me. I don't think anyone has cared for me the way you do." Jenna smiles, her brown eyes glistening with tears. She reaches into her bag, pulling out a pair of keys. Yes. Yes. Yes.
She opens the cage and you slowly walk towards her. Jenna wraps her arms around you and holds you close. When you pull apart you push her onto the ground, searching the room for a weapon.
Jenna stares up at you in shock, as you grab a knife from the table. You raise the knife above your head, ready to strike, but she runs away, tripping on the rug inside the room.
You straddle her, pinning her down with your body. She cries out in fear as you raise the knife to deliver the final blow. "NO! I'M PREGNANT!"
You pause and look into her eyes, realizing the truth of her words. You drop the knife as her chest weaves up and down. "I'm pregnant." She repeats, tears forming in her eyes. You take a step back, shock and disbelief gripping you in its grasp.
You can feel your heart beating rapidly as you process the news. You look at her, uncertain of what to say or do. "I couldn't let you walk out on us, Y/N. I couldn't let our baby grow up without their mother."
She takes your hand into hers and brings it to her stomach. You feel a rush of emotion overwhelm you, and you look up into her eyes, now filled with love. You know in this moment that you will do whatever it takes to make sure your child is safe in the arms of her.
"I was so scared." You tell the cop. He stares at you, and his expression softens. "That's why Jenna killed Zoe. To protect me and our baby." He nods slowly, understanding. "I know," he says. "You did the right thing." He helps you to your feet and leads you away and outside the integration room.
He guides you back to the station's lobby, and you watch as he disappears down the hallway. You take a deep breath and close your eyes. Ross stands up from the bench, bringing you into a tight hug. Jenna appears from behind him, kissing you softly before rubbing her belly. "It's okay, baby. We're safe now." She whispers to you.
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