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gurugirl · 4 months

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Next Door Neighbors

Summary: You just wanted peace and quiet and Harry just wanted to jam out in his garage for his birthday. So you decide to confront your new neighbor but things don't go as you planned.

A/N: Here it is! Sorry I didn't get it out earlier but it's here now! Enjoy this little 🎈 Harry Styles Happy Birthday Treat 🎈xoxo

Word Count: 7.8k

Warning: 18+ only, smut

It was the perfect house with the perfect backyard in the perfect neighborhood. You’d hit the jackpot. Your first big girl purchase. A house with a lovely garden, two bedrooms, a lovely little kitchen with the perfect rays of light that shone in through the big windows all morning. And the neighborhood was nice and quiet where you could enjoy your weekends in peace reading to your heart’s content.

It was a huge upgrade from the apartment life you endured for years while you saved up for just this thing. And you’d finally found it. Things seemed to be coming together for you in life finally.

On Friday after you got off work, Zoya called, asking if you wanted to go out with the girls but you politely declined, “I’m just gonna stay in I think. I hope you don’t mind. Maybe next weekend, Zo.”

You had a bottle of wine tucked under your arm as you held your cell phone to your ear on your way to the checkout lane at the little neighborhood market a few blocks from your house. Your new house. The one with your name on the mortgage.

Your plan was to drink a little wine in your cute new backyard and read a book, just taking in the peace of your new place.

You turned on the twinkle lights over your back porch (your dad had helped you put them up into the trees) and sat down in your outdoor lounge chair with a glass of wine and the book you’d been looking forward to reading. The sun had just gone down and you could hear crickets. A perfect Friday night, in your opinion.

That is until you were twenty pages into your book and suddenly the loud racket of what sounded like obnoxiously loud live music playing from next door had you closing your book and standing up to investigate.

The closer you got the more you could hear the unmistakable sound of a live band playing, the pop of a snare drum, the trill of a guitar... You looked over the wood fence into the driveway of your neighbor’s home and couldn’t see much but you saw lights on inside of the garage and the loud ruckus of a homemade instrumental band.

You didn’t want to be one of those neighbors. One of those awful people who complained about everything their neighbors did. But this was ridiculous. It seemed they had no regard for any of the people that lived around them.

Walking back to what was supposed to be your little oasis you sat down and grumped to yourself about how rude some people could be. You’d give them one hour until you went over there and told them in person to lower the noise.

You’d only been living in your little house for a few days and this was your first Friday night. You had really been looking forward to a peaceful night at home. Not even your second glass of wine could calm you down.

You didn’t know why you were so mad about it. In your apartment, you were bombarded with noise from all the neighbors who shared a wall with you and the loud heard of elephants that lived above you.

But this? It was meant to be your sanctuary. Your place of solitude.

But you’d had it. When an hour had passed and you paced around your backyard getting up the nerve to walk over there you huffed and psyched yourself up as you made your way into the front yard of your neighbor’s house and could see three men inside the wide open garage. A drummer pounding away, and two men standing – one with a guitar and another with a bass.

You stepped into the driveway and clutched your cardigan closer to your chest as you appeared at the threshold of the garage and the music abruptly stopped when the tall one with dark curls laid his eyes on you.

“Hi. You’re the new neighbor,” he raised his hand from the neck of the guitar he had slung over his shoulder and smiled.

You instantly no longer were raging with anger when you heard his voice and realized this was the man you’d seen briefly the morning before as he got into his car. You imagined he was attractive but not this attractive. Tattoos along one arm, thick curls, plush pink lips, dimples…

“Uh… yeah. I just moved in next door a few days ago.” You looked behind yourself and back toward the men before continuing, “I was hoping you guys could–“

Your voice was cut off by the clash of a symbol then the hit of a snare before the drummer tapped his sticks together, “We’re in the middle of something here in case you didn’t see.”

“Hey… chill. Don’t be rude man,” the curly-headed man with the guitar shot a look at the drummer before looking back at you, “What were you saying? Sorry.”

You shifted on your feet, “I was wondering if you guys could keep it down. It’s so loud and it’s all I can hear while I’m trying to read.”

The guy with the bass guitar spoke, “Oh come on, lady. We hardly ever get to do this.”

Your neighbor began removing his guitar, lifting the strap over his head as he looked at the other two, “Let’s call it a night guys. That’s enough.”

The other two began to grumble as they packed away their things and your neighbor stepped out of the garage in front of you with his hand held out to you, “I’m Harry.”

You smiled and placed your palm against his, “Y/n.”

The drummer came up beside Harry, “Today’s his birthday you know. The only thing he wanted today was to jam out for a bit.”

Your eyes widened as you looked at Harry, “Oh. I didn’t know. I’m sorry… you–“

“Don’t worry about it. We had a good hour. I’m beat anyway. Long week at work.”

The bassist gave Harry a side hug, “I’m gonna head home. See you later, okay? Happy birthday, dude.”

“Oh. I should leave. I’m really sorry again,” you waved as you began to back away.

But Harry stepped in toward you, “Stick around for a minute okay?”

The drummer followed suit, bidding Harry a happy birthday and then getting into his car to drive away as you stood awkwardly at the edge of the garage until it was just you and Harry.

“I’m sorry. I feel really bad that they left. And it’s your birthday too? I’ll… do you want a bottle of wine or something? Let me grab you a bottle as a gift and an apology…”

Harry grinned at you and shook his head, “Mind if I come with you? I’d love to see the inside of the house. Never got the chance to see it before. That can be your birthday gift to me.”

You noted the smirk on his face, his confident posture, and then you realized he had crystalline green eyes. Something in the way he was looking at you gave you those ridiculous butterflies in your tummy.

“Yeah. Of course, Harry.” You turned and he followed behind you as you led him into your backyard, closing the gate behind yourself.

“This is the backyard. I’m gonna put in some flowers over there,” you pointed, “And maybe do something with the porch at some point.”

Harry looked around the backyard briefly before he put his gaze back on you as you opened up your door to let him inside. You were sure you were insane to be letting your neighbor, whom you did not know, into our house with you alone at night, but you only live once, isn’t that what they say?

“Kitchen,” you gestured your hand and then moved through into the living room where Harry trailed behind you and looked around.

“It’s nice. I like how big the windows are. Always was jealous of how big they are compared to mine.”

You looked up at him and smiled, “It’s one of the reasons I bought the place. The window in the kitchen overlooking the backyard kind of sealed the deal for me. Lots of great light comes in for most of the day.”

“I bet it does,” he kept his eyes on you and your tummy was still fluttering about.

“Over here is the bedroom,” you flipped on the switch, “It’s got its own full bathroom. Tiny but I like it.” You turned to move down the hall and flipped on the switch to the hallway bathroom, “Another bathroom, here,” and then moved to the final door, pushing it open to an empty room, “And at some point, I’ll furnish this. It’ll be like an office, guest room sort of thing.”

You turned off the light and looked back at Harry who was standing right behind you.

“Thank you, for showing me around.”

You felt your face warm up as you looked at him. You liked how he said your name. Liked how his lips moved around his words when he spoke.

“Of course. Um… do you want any wine? I was a glass and a half into a bottle if you want to finish it with me?”

That was an easy yes from Harry. You brought your glass in from outside and pulled out a clean one for your neighbor before pouring a bit of the burgundy liquid inside for him.

“Happy birthday, Harry,” you held your glass out to him and he tapped the edge of his glass to yours, “Sorry that I ruined it, though. I kind of feel awful.”

Harry shook his head, “Don’t be sorry. Like I said, it was a long week at work and we had a good hour anyway. Plus this is nice. Getting to know my neighbor,” he took a sip of his wine.

“How old are you today?” You took a sip of your wine as you watched him.

“30,” he sighed, “Grown adult officially.” He smiled.

You laughed at his remark and nodded, “Yes, 30 marks the official entry into adulthood. That’s my belief as well.”

You really liked Harry. He was easy to talk to and you decided he made you feel very comfortable.

“So, you’re a musician?” You raised your brows.

He shook his head and chuckled, “Well, I like to sing and play instruments. I’m not really great or anything. Just a hobby. Used to be in a band in college but then I realized I had to get a real job and figure out how to pay my bills and get along in life.”

You leaned your bottom into your kitchen counter and smiled at him, “Oh yeah. I know all about that. Would be nice if we could make good money just doing our hobbies so we didn’t have to get real jobs,” you laughed, “What do you do for work?”

“I’m an electrical contractor. Have a small business with three employees. It’s hard work but it pays well. Most of the time.”

You smiled. He continued to get more attractive the more he talked and the more you learned. It didn’t hurt that you could tell he was in incredibly great shape as well. He was tall, his shoulders were broad and his shirt stretched tightly over the lats at his back and hung loosely where his waist was, indicating a nice healthy build and upper body strength. His arms were lean muscle and even his thighs filled out the tops of his jeans so you understood it wasn’t just his upper body that was well-muscled.

You heard Harry chuckle as you darted your eyes back up to his. You’d been caught checking him out. You hadn’t meant to let your eyes scrape down his frame but… well. Here you were.

“And what do you do, Y/n?”

Harry kept his sight on you as he sipped from his glass. His sultry gaze was doing things to your hormones and making your heart pump a little harder behind your ribcage.

“I’m the general manager at SpendCo,” you laughed and shrugged, “Not a fancy job but I like it. Good benefits. Was able to save up for this place,” you gestured your hand around the kitchen.

“My job’s not fancy either,” Harry laughed, “But yeah. It’s steady work. A good paycheck.”

You nodded. You could relate in some ways. You’d gone to school for business but wound up working your way up from the bottom at SpendCo. When you started you were making just over minimum wage as a cashier, but now you worked in the office, Monday through Friday (no more weekends for you) and had shift managers and employees working under you. It felt good to be the boss.

“Wanna sit in the living room? Couch is brand new. In fact, I’ve hardly even had the chance to sit in it myself.”

“Yeah. Let’s break that couch in, Y/n,” Harry grinned as he nudged you with his shoulder.

Oh?

You laughed at his comment but decided to not take it the way you imagined he meant. Of course, he obviously meant just sitting on it and breaking it in that way. Certainly, there were no innuendos behind his words.

You didn’t have a proper coffee table yet so you pulled an empty bin with a lid to the front of the couch, “We’ll use this to put our glasses on. Still not done decorating or buying things I need, as you can tell.”

Harry sat his glass down on the plastic lid of the bin and pointed at your stereo setup next to the TV, “Can I put on some music?”

“Yeah, sure,” you smiled as you took another sip of your wine and watched your handsome neighbor get up and turn on your stereo and speakers. He pulled his phone from his back pocket and searched for the Bluetooth to connect and a song began to play over your speakers.

“Like Chris Isaak?” Harry asked as he sat down on the couch, right next to you, his knee knocking into yours.

“Yeah… I think. I’ve heard this song before anyway,” you smiled as you looked down at your thighs.

Harry leaned his back into the cushion and you felt him shifting next to you, his arm propped up on the back of the seat behind you.

“So where did you live before you moved in here?”

You turned your head to look at him before placing your eyes safely on the plastic bin, “In an apartment over in Roger’s Park. Nice little neighborhood. But I hated living in an apartment. Lugging groceries up three flights of stairs every time I went shopping. I mean I got used to it but still…” you laughed.

“Oh yeah. I know what you mean. I used to live in an apartment too. Actually also in Roger’s Park… but that was like five years ago.”

You peeked at him with your brows raised, “Yeah? You lived in Roger’s Park too? What area?”

“Off Grand near the big bus terminal.”

“Wait. For real? At Sheraton Oaks?”

Harry furrowed his brows and squinted, “Yes. Shit. Is that where you lived?”

“It is. 3rd floor. Apartment 10.”

Harry turned his body toward you, his thigh flush against yours, “No fucking way, Y/n. I lived in apartment 10,” he pointed his thumb at himself with a wide surprised grin on his face.

You shook your head and looked at him in disbelief, “That’s wild. How funny that two people who used to live in the same apartment at different times became next-door neighbors. What are the chances?”

Harry laughed, “Seems quite unlikely in such a big city.”

You and Harry sat facing one another in amazement as a new song came on.

“You okay?” Harry’s pupils ran over your features and you saw him looking at your lips as he poked his tongue out to wet his own.

“Yeah. Why?”

Harry softly smiled as he lifted his hand to your face and you felt the pad of his thumb press into your cheek, “You’re biting the inside of your cheeks. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t nervous or something.”

You puffed out a laugh and shook your head, “No. I’m not nervous. Sometimes I chew on the inside of my cheeks. Bad habit.”

Harry nodded shallowly with his eyes on you but he didn’t respond. Instead, he reached for his glass and took a sip of wine.

“So… um…” you glanced at him and shot your eyes to his hand that held the stem of the glass. His hands were nice and big and you noticed he had his nails painted, alternating blue and yellow.

“So, um… What? What were you gonna say?”

You gulped and forced yourself to look into his eyes. He was so handsome and you were beginning to get hot all over. He was too close (not that that was a bad thing), his thigh was solid against yours, and his eyes were drawing something out of you. He was alluring.

“I don’t…” you shook your head, “Forgot what I was gonna say.”

Harry pulled his lips into his mouth, a muted grin on his face as you watched dimples carve into his cheeks. Like he knew what you were thinking.

“I like this sweater,” he gestured toward your cardigan and you looked down at it. It was knitted with a cat playing with a ball of yarn on the left side.

“My aunt bought it for me for Christmas last year,” you smiled and as you brought your eyes up you noticed he was wearing a necklace but you couldn’t see the whole thing as it was tucked under his t-shirt.

He pulled at a button on your cardigan and cocked his head as he looked at you, “Are you sure you’re okay, Y/n? Do you want me to leave?”

Your eyes widened, “Oh no. This is nice. I… I’m okay. Honestly.”

“Okay. You just seem a little frazzled. Want to make sure I’m not doing anything that’s making you uncomfortable.”

You shook your head, “No. You’re great. You haven’t done anything to make me uncomfortable.” You bit your bottom lip into your mouth and tried to give off an air of calm and confidence like Harry was but he was something else. He was so incredibly attractive and the eye contact was making you slowly melt. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander to what it would be like to kiss him.

He grinned, one side of his mouth pulling upward, “I see.”

You watched as he took a deep breath and placed his wine glass back down before looking back into your eyes, “So, um… can I ask you a personal question?”

You nodded, “Yeah. Sure.”

“Do you have a boyfriend or…?”

Your brows raised upward, “Oh. Uh, no. No boyfriend,” you put your hands into your lap and fiddled with your fingers, “And, uh… you? Significant other?”

A breathy laugh fell from his chest as he shook his head, “Nope.” He popped the p as he responded.

You nodded and looked down at the hand that he’d placed over his thigh. His pinky was pressed into your leg. You were sure he was giving you some kind of signal. All the signs were there. His body language, eye contact, asking you about a boyfriend, and the nearness of him… He was so close you could smell the soap he used.

“Mmm…” you racked your brain to think of anything to say, “How long have you lived here?”

He licked his lips again, “Five years. Moved out of Sheraton Oaks and then bought the house next door.”

You smiled, “So that means I moved in right after you moved out.”

Harry slowly moved his hand further toward your leg and you felt his pinky and ring finger press into your leggings before subtly bending his pinky finger out to rub the fabric under his digit, “Sounds like we have a lot in common.”

“Yeah. Guess so,” you gave him a weak smile and looked down at his hand.

“Am I overstepping?”

You shook your head and looked up at him.

“No? What about if I kissed you? Is that too much?”

Your breath caught in your lungs as you kept your eyes pinned to his and shook your head again.

“No, it’s not too much? Or no you don’t want me to kiss you?”

You swallowed and your heart bounced around in your chest so wildly you could almost hear it, “No, it’s not too much.”

The smile on Harry’s face was soft as he looked from your eyes to your mouth, “It’s okay then? You don’t mind the birthday boy stealing a kiss from his cute neighbor?”

That pulled a laugh from you just as he hoped it would, “I’d like that I think.”

Harry slid his free hand up to the side of your neck, his thumb at the base of your jaw close to your ear, “Last chance to say no.”

You laughed again and placed your palm over the top of his hand that had fully moved over your thigh, “Kiss me.”

The slow movement of his face toward yours, the nudge of his nose to your skin, hot puffs of breath spreading over your cheek, soft lips brushing against the edge of your mouth, before he finally pressed his smooth pink lips against yours was alchemic. Something about him, about the way he handled himself and spoke to you and devoured you with his eyes… But with his mouth against yours, his thumb softly rubbing at your jaw, and his hand moving to fit his fingers between yours as he kept it pressed over your thigh you felt electrified.

And he tasted like mint and smelled like soap and his lips were smooth and moist against yours. Your Friday night had already turned out far better than you imagined it would.

Yeah. Making out on your new couch in your new house with your new neighbor was way better.

You slid the palm of your free hand up his shoulder and to the nape of his neck as his own grip on the side of your neck and jaw tightened the slightest.

But your mind was on his mouth. The heat coming from his touch. The way his tongue slid through your lips to beckon them open…

Harry pulled at your hand and urged you toward his lap. Parting your legs you sat down over the spread of his thighs, settling yourself as close to him as possible.

He slid his hands up your thighs and you felt ravenous. It was as if sitting in his lap made it so much more real. He was moving things along and you were keeping pace.

You pressed your tongue against his and softly rocked your hips down. As your pelvis tilted against Harry, he moaned into your mouth and it was the hottest thing you’d ever heard.

“Fuck. You still good?” He parted from the kiss, keeping his nose bumped against yours.

You breathed out a yes as you nodded and when you lifted your face your lips brushed against his and it started all over again. Lips smothered over lips and tongues wetly dragging against tongues.

Harry’s hands inched up to your hips and you pressed your fingers into the back of his neck, feeling his pulse, steady and strong under your skin.

He lapped over your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth and then dropped his cushiony lips down to your jaw, peppering damp kisses under the space of your chin and over your neck.

You loved having your neck kissed. Not just loved it… you craved it. The feel of a man’s breath and mouth and tongue and nose against your pulse point and the delicate skin that wrapped over blood pumping through your arteries had your skin tingling.

Another rock of your hips down and you felt the obvious swell of something growing under his jeans. He hissed and you backed away from his mouth, not knowing if his sharp inhale was from pain or if he liked the slide of the fabric over your crotch pressing against him.

When you looked at his eyes he was a different man. His pupils had widened and his plush pink lips were wet and parted, nostrils taking in air heavily as you felt his fingers dig into your hips.

“Did I hurt you?” You brought one of your hands toward his jaw feeling the light scruff along the bone under your knuckles.

He shook his head, “No. Not at all. But I do need to reposition.”

You looked down between your bodies and moved back on his thighs to give him space but before your brain could connect to your motions you were reaching down for his button to unpluck from the thick jean fabric. He gently lifted his hips as you unzipped his pants and then you looked at him as you pushed the bottom hem of his shirt upward over the band of his underwear.

“You wanna help?” He spoke breathily as you nodded and pulled the elastic away from his skin with one hand and used the other to reach under the fabric. It was sparse hair and skin and then and then denser hair and warmth until you felt him tucked awkwardly to the side against his pelvis.

The small coo that fell from your mouth was involuntary as you wrapped your hand around him. Hot and thick in your hand. He inhaled sharply again when he felt your palm on his cock as you helped guide him upright.

Your breath was unsteady and shallow as you kept your eyes on Harry’s, “God, Harry.”

“What?” His teasing smirk gave away that he knew what. He knew his cock was big and watching your reaction to that was pleasing.

You gulped and peeked down at it, your hand still holding the fabric away from his hips. A swollen, smooth ruddy colored tip that matched the pink of his lips. The length of which pushed out from the top of the band and sat perfectly in between two fern tattoos at his hips along the bare part of his skin.

“It’s…” you looked back up at him, “It’s nice.”

Harry breathed out a laugh, “Nice? Why thank you.” He grinned.

But then you felt his fingers slide under your t-shirt, pushing the fabric up slowly until his skin was pressed into your sides. It felt like he was urging you to remove your shirt so you did. Pulling your cardigan off first you let it fall to the floor at Harry’s feet before you peeled your t-shirt off.

Harry was surprised to see you weren’t wearing a bra. It had been easy enough to hide under the knitted sweater you figured, so you never put a bra on when you went to confront him earlier. And of course, you weren’t wearing one. It was meant to be a quiet Friday night in. There had been no need.

He pushed his hands up your sides until his fingers were wrapped around your ribs with his thumbs pressing into the soft plump underside of your tits.

You watched him take you in. Your nipples were straining and goosebumps littered your flesh as he ghosted his thumbs along the sensitive tissue.

It felt like so much. You had never done anything remotely sexual with someone you didn’t know. But Harry was hot and you were turned on. So much so that you could feel the dampness in your panties.

You reached back to his chest, pulling at his shirt. You wanted to see more. Wanted to know what he looked like underneath it all. You knew he was fit. And you were positive there were more tattoos hidden away under the material of his shirt.

With his eyes on yours, he moved his hands away from your breasts and pulled his shirt off, taking the back and bringing it over his head at the front. You got a glimpse of the necklace he wore. A white gold cross that slapped against his chest when it caught on the fabric of his shirt as he removed it.

You had been right. His body was defined and strong. Bulky muscular pecs and toned abs. Inked skin from his clavicle to the butterfly under his pectorals and down to the ferns, where his cock poked out of the top of his underwear.

Pressing your palms over his pecs you smoothed your hands down over his nipples and to the butterfly tattoo underneath.

Harry put his hands on your hips again while you admired his torso and you felt his fingers dip under the waistband of your dark-colored tights. Another signal. A question seeking approval for more.

Drawing your eyes up to his you put your hands over his fingers and pushed the material down with him.

Of course, sitting in his lap hindered too much movement but he understood your hint as he pushed you up by your hips and you found yourself being moved off of his lap to your back on the couch.

“Still good, Y/n?” He looked at you with those dark pupils, an air of respectful authority. He made your skin boil.

You nodded, “I’m good.”

Harry began to pull at the stretchy fabric, bringing it down your hips and over your thighs til your knees were free and then he lifted your legs so he could get the leggings off your feet.

When your pants were on the floor, he still had your legs held upward, one hand at the back of your ankles and you peered down at him indulging in the sight of your skin at the back of your thighs and down to your bottom covered in your panties.

You saw a grin on his face as he brought your legs down before he stood up and pulled his jeans off his legs.

His body was so strong and masculine. He could easily dominate you, the thought briefly crossed your mind as you watched the muscles in his arms flex, his abs clench, and the sinew on his powerful-looking thighs bulge as he steadied himself one leg at a time until his jeans were off and he was only clad in his underwear with dark inky designs on his skin and even on his thigh.

He kneed himself down onto the couch, hovering over you as you naturally spread your legs to allow him space between your thighs.

And the feel of his hard shaft pressing over your mound before his lips dropped down to yours once again had you dazed. It almost didn’t feel real.

“So fucking hot, Y/n…” he whispered against your lips, “Made me so hard.”

You gasped when he rocked himself down over you, fabric rubbing against fabric until your arousal had seeped through your panties and began wetting his underwear.

He moaned and parted from this kiss, “You’re all wet.” He slid himself upward and then back with a grin. “You like that?”

You nodded with a moan.

“Yeah? What else do you want, Y/n? Hm? Want to get rid of these panties?”

You moved your shaky hands down your hips and pushed at the fabric to bring them down. All you wanted was him. Your hormones were screaming at you and all you could think about was his big cock and how it would feel sliding inside of you.

Harry laughed at how enthusiastic you seemed and moved back to help you remove your panties, “Okay. We can get these off. Mind if I lose my underwear too?”

You sat up and reached for the band of his briefs as he began to push them down until he was completely bare before you.

His cock hung heavy outward, pointing toward you, like it was beckoning to be touched so you did, reaching for him and taking your palm from his tip to his base until your hand hit the dark thatch of hair and then pulled back up to his smooth head.

“I want it. Want to feel it, Harry.” You looked at him as you pumped him again.

He groaned as he watched your small hand move along his length.

“Do you have a condom?”

You swallowed and paused your motions. You definitely did not have a condom. Which was quite unfortunate because that could only mean sex was not going to happen unless he had one and was willing to go to his house to get it.

Shaking your head no you frowned.

Harry licked his lips and trailed his eyes over your tits and down your tummy, “S’okay. Plenty of other ways to have fun.”

You whined as you looked down at your hand. You had really wanted to feel that big thing wrecking your insides.

Harry took your chin and tilted your face to look up at him, “What’s wrong?”

You inhaled and let go of his pretty dick, “I wanted to feel you so bad.”

He pressed his mouth against yours, soft reassuring kisses had your heart strumming in your chest.

“Well I would hate to disappoint you,” he grinned, “Want to go to mine? I’ve got condoms. We’ll just have to put some clothes back on.”

You nodded and pushed yourself up, quickly pulling your cardigan on and slipping your leggings back up your legs.

Harry liked how desperate you seemed. That was quite the ego boost. He put his shirt back on and pulled his jeans up but left the zipper down as he clutched the fabric to keep it up.

“Guess that’s good enough for breaking your couch in, yeah?”

You laughed and nodded, “Was a good first use for it I think.”

Harry laughed as he took your hand and you two made your way out your front door to his, hurrying over grass under bare feet and small chuckles until you were in the safety and privacy of his living room. He kept your hand in his until he got to his bedroom where he pulled his shirt off and you followed suit, ridding yourself of the annoying clothing you’d had to put back on.

But you knew it was going to be worth it.

Harry dug into his bedside table for a condom and laid it on top of the wood before looking back at you, “You still want this?”

You nodded and climbed onto his bed. The tunnel vision you had was keeping your mind from wandering too far off course as you watched Harry stroke his cock, long pulls up and down to his base as he crawled after you onto his bed.

You easily opened up your legs for him to fit his hips between and felt his warm cock slipping through your folds, rubbing against your clit.

“So slippery, Y/n.” You knew you were as he drove himself over your labia, smoothing his cock against your arousal back and forth.

A shaky moan fell from your throat and Harry grinned as he smeared his lips against your mouth.

He worked himself up and down, wetting the outside of his cock and his tip as he inched through your pussylips smoothly.

You loved his mouth. Loved how he kissed you. It was raw and felt like he gave a damn. Felt like he was enjoying your mouth just as much as you enjoyed his.

Finally, he pushed himself back and reached for his condom looking at you, “Do want anything else first? Or do just want my cock?”

You looked down at his hard dick with your arousal spread all over him and it was all you wanted.

“I want your cock,” your words were breathy as you looked up into his eyes.

“Yeah? A greedy little thing aren’t you?” Harry began to pull the condom over his shaft, pinching the tip as he dragged the rubber down as far as it would reach before settling himself back against your hips, pushing your thighs back slightly, “So desperate for it,” he nudged his cock down against your pussy and then slid it up to your clit teasingly, “Couldn’t wait to have me inside you. Insisted on it even,” he grinned as he tormented you with his wide girth slipping back and forth against your cunt.

You tilted your hips up and groaned, trying to get him to push inside but he continued his taunting movements, “Now, now… so impatient. I’ll give you what you want soon enough sweetheart. But today’s my birthday so I get to control the pace. Don’t want you getting all bossy with me.”

You moaned and slid your hands over his shoulders as you rolled your hips upward again, kissing his slit with your entrance but this time he placed a hand over your thigh and held you in place, “Is it that bad, Y/n?”

You nodded, “Please, Harry.”

“Mmm… love a well-mannered lady. You gonna be good for me?”

You sighed and you would have rolled your eyes if you weren’t so horny, so out of your mind desperate, “I’m gonna be good. Please.”

“Yeah? Cause once I slide inside of you there’s no turning back.”

You gripped his shoulders tight and groaned, “Please.”

The feel of his warm, heavy cock smeared against your clit was almost too much. In fact, you could probably come from that alone if given enough time.

“So sweet for me, Y/n,” Harry took the thigh he’d been holding down and brought your leg over his low back, smoothing his hand over your skin as he positioned himself at your entrance.

The moment you felt him pressing his bulbous head through your slick muscle you dropped your mouth open and moaned but then his mouth caught yours and the noises you were making became muffled as he moved his lips against your mouth.

You knew he was going to split you in half. The slow glide of his cock inside your warm walls was intense. Inch by inch he pushed in as his lips were wrapped around yours.

Holding onto his lats you lifted your hips against his as he slid back and then buried himself into the hilt. You gasped into his mouth at the ache of him nudging into your guts and then pulling back to his tip only to slide himself back in. Working you open slowly, he continued to drive into your cunt with gushy wet noises coming from your pussy as he stretched you open.

You appreciated him plunging in slowly and easing you into fitting around his cock properly. You liked the warmup but more than that, you needed him to destroy your pussy.

When he felt you bucking upward into him he parted his mouth from yours and sat back with his knees bent. You saw him watching the space where he was connected with your cunt as he continued rolling into you.

His abs were flexing as he steadied himself in and out. You gasped when he began to fuck into you a little faster, his cock sliding through your walls and bumping into all the slick bits on your insides.

A gurgled moan fell from your lips as he smacked his hips into yours. The patting of his balls against your ass came out in wet thuds. Your tits bounced with every long stroke into your tummy and he was panting as he let his eyes scan over your body and up to your pretty face.

“Taking me so well, Y/n. Making me leak into my condom already, pussy’s so good.”

You both moaned as he drove into you, his mattress under you giving way to the force of his thrusts.

“Feels so good, Harry…” you panted.

“Yeah?” He bucked inward and ground against you, swiveling his hips and you gasped at the deep press into your cervix.

His fingers were pinching into your thighs as he stuffed himself in and you gripped his forearms for leverage and lifted your neck to watch as his cock disappeared into your body over and over again.

His shaft was coated with your shiny arousal as he slid in and out, your pussy gripping around his skin perfectly.

Harry’s moans were growing louder as he continued fucking into you wetly, hips slamming against yours making his balls strike into your ass.

His thighs were flexing as he rocked against you while your body was shivering and feeling the bliss of getting an itch scratched that you’d been needing.

You felt his right hand release your thigh and then watched him press his thumb over your slippery clit.

You let out a pathetic cry of relief when he smoothed the pad of his digit in circles on your bud, “Yes! Oh god!”

Harry coughed out a moan as he watched your face twist up, “That feel good, Y/n?”

You focused your sight on his eyes and nodded, “Yes…”

The grin on his face could have been akin to something cocky but your brain was mush as you let him wreck you with deep strokes into your tummy, wet and sloppy, dripping arousal down your ass.

The springs in his mattress were bouncing in time with his thrusts and the wooden frame on his bed creaked when he jerked his hips forward into you.

“Just like that, huh? Pussy needed fucked, yeah?” Harry’s words were coming out tight and shaky. You could hear it in his voice how good it felt for him too.

He pressed down and moved his thumb deliciously over your puffy clit as his cock punched into your organs and tissue making you throw your head back and close your eyes arching your back upward.

Harry loved the sight; your sloppy wet pussy spreading apart for his cock as you arched your back like the sexy thing you were, soft tits swaying every time he buried himself in balls deep, lips parted, neck long and stretched out as you breathily moaned his name, “Hh… Harry…”

He could watch you like this all night. Stretches of skin covered in goosebumps as if you were cold, hard nipples at the center of your wobbly squeezable tits, soft tummy clenching, and wet pussy ruined and clenching around him.

The way he was smushing and circling his thumb over your clit had your head fuzzy and your heart racing. But then he leaned over you and pressed his other hand over your low tummy as he fucked into you, pushing against your insides and making the space he was invading with his cock feel tighter as he slid upward and nudged into your guts.

“Gahhh…” you let out a gasped moan when his hand pressed into your stomach.

“Does that feel good, Y/n?” Harry’s eyes were on yours as he drove himself into you.

You nodded and scrunched your brows upward when your insides began to twist with your pussy stretching around him indulgently.

Your legs began to quiver from the strain of your muscles as you felt your orgasm nearing. Everything he was doing to you set your body alight. You reached for his strong biceps and dug your fingers in tight gasping at the depth of him.

“Be good for me, honey… there you go,” he spoke through clenched teeth, holding back his release, “Right there, huh? Feels good like that?”

You whimpered with a nod as you pinned your eyes to his. The expression on his face was lusty and filled with need as he dipped into you, pasting his hips against yours now, only fucking inward, pressing solidly against your insides.

You cried out when you felt the small burst and snap of your orgasm and he quickly moved his hands from your tummy and clit, leaning his hips against yours before pressing his palms into the mattress on either side of your shoulders and angling his body so he could pound into you and fuck you through your orgasm. The way his pelvis smushed against your clit, hips grinding against you as he pulled back and then forced his way through your opening to bury himself deep inside sent you over the edge.

You clung to his shoulders as you spasmed around his fat cock, slipping deep inside of you with a wet squelch as he reared back to his tip before rutting into the hilt.

Your vision and hearing grew muted as you came so you couldn’t hear him clearly when he babbled off nonsense, “Shit! Squeezing the fuck out of me, honey! Oh my god, that feels good. So fucking hot. Gonna make me come so hard…”

Harry’s hips struck against you repeatedly until his balls constricted and tightened and then he was pumping into his condom, his muscles stiffening with his hips pressed into yours, mashing your body into the mattress underneath you.

He choked out a moan as his cock spurted his release, throbbing and twitching inside of you as you panted at how hard he’d come. The front of his thighs were pressed into the back of yours, holding you down with his hips as he drained every drop of his come into his condom.

Then it was silent. The sound of sex and moaning was quieted and the bed was no longer creaking and thumping.

Harry pressed his chest against your tits and you felt his plushy lips on yours again and you sighed against his mouth. Slowly your ears stopped ringing and you smoothed your hands up his strong back.

He pushed his face into your neck and his warm breath dampened your skin, “Happy fucking birthday to me,” he laughed.

You grinned with a tiny giggle and opened your eyes before running your fingers into his thick curls.

When he’d pushed himself up to look down at you, you couldn’t get over how adorably handsome your neighbor was. He was sexy as hell and yet so cute at the same time.

“You all right?” His raspy voice was quiet as he searched your face and brought a hand up to your temple, his thumb drawing over your skin.

The grin on your face should have told him as much as you nodded, “Very much all right.” You puffed out a laugh.

He laughed with you and smiled widely, dimples appearing in his cheeks, “Well, welcome to the neighborhood, Y/n.”

Raising a hand up to his jaw you nodded, a cheeky grin still stretched over your mouth, “And happy birthday to you, Harry.”

Part 2

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#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fiction #harry styles one shot #firstpost #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles x you #harry styles x yn #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harrystyles #harry #harry smut

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rafeandonlyrafe · 5 months

Text

ponytail

words: 1k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, blowjob, face fucking a bit, hair play?, mentions of thigh riding, public sex

“can i join you today rafey?” you ask, plopping down on his lap.

“join me for what?” he questions, dropping his phone onto the couch, the weather app still opened up, checking the radar and wind direction.

“golf, duh.” you say like it's obvious. he does usually go on fridays, so it's no surprise that he would be going today, especially since it was pretty sunny out

“oh.” rafe says, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “you really want to go with me?”

“mhm.” you nod. “i bought a new golf skirt.”

“ah, now it makes sense.” rafe laughs, pulling you into his chest when you pout. “of course you can come baby.”

“yay!” you press a kiss to his lips, your hands coming to rest on his strong jaw. “im gonna go get ready.”

you hop up off of rafes lap, but not before giving him another kiss. you head upstairs, excited to get dressed in your new golfing outfit. you apply makeup, figuring you'd get rafe to take some cute pictures of you for instagram.

you tie your hair up in a ponytail before adjusting your skirt and putting on your golf shoes.

“all ready, rafey.” you bound back down the stairs. rafe perks up instantly when he sees you in your tiny skirt.

“you look hot.” rafe says as he stands, coming over to deliver a kiss.

“thanks baby.” you smile, rafe still managing to make you blush even after you've been together for over a year.

“come on, let's go before it gets too busy.” rafe says, taking your hand in his as he leads you out the door.

“rafe, cut it out.” you say with a laugh as his hands find a way to your waist again.

“i can't help it baby, you look so good.” he groans, pulling your body against his, not letting you swing your club and hit the golf ball.

“i know, but i gotta hit this! don't you wanna move on to the next hole?” you question. it's an easy putt, which is all you really like to do. you always start your turn from where rafes first hit lands, it makes golf easier and more enjoyable for you. rafe even lets you drive the cart from time to time.

“wanna move on to your next hole.” rafe says, making you lean against him as you howl with laughter.

“that was so stupid!”

“shut up.” rafe groans, burying his head in your shoulder, glad that you wore a tank top today that didn't cover too much of your skin as he kisses where your neck meets your shoulder.

“you are corny, rafe cameron.” you say with a roll of your eyes, pulling away from his grabby hands so you can finally make your putt.

you line up your shoot before tapping the ball into the hole, letting out a whoop in happiness at getting it in.

“good job.” rafe says, giving you a high five.

you retrieve your ball before heading to the next hole, frowning when rafe turns the golf cart the wrong direction.

“uh… rafe?” you question as he pulls behind a patch of woods.

“wanna suck me off baby?” he questions as he puts the cart into park, looking over at where you are perched on the golf cart next to him.

“oh!” you squeal, now understanding why he took you to the one secluded part of the course. “yes!”

rafe laughs, stepping out of the cart and moving to the other side. you get on your knees in the cart, not wanting to dirty them in the grass.

rafe tugs his zipper down as you work the button open, mouth already salivating.

you pull his pants down to his thighs, his underwear coming with it as his cock perks up, already hardening. rafe glances around, double checking that no one is around as you grasp his cock.

you open your mouth, stroking over his cock as you rub the head against your tongue. rafe lets out a quiet moan, his hand moving to grip your ponytail.

“gonna fuck your mouth, yeah?” rafe questions. he wants to let you take your time, but he also doesn’t want to get in trouble with the country club if he gets caught.

you nod, opening your mouth as rafe pushes your head down on his cock, his hips pushing forward at the same time. you place your hands on his thighs to keep yourself steady as he uses your ponytail to guide you up and down.

rafe only takes it slow for a minute before he begins to snap his hips forward, his cock growing inside your mouth.

he wraps your ponytail around his head for a better grip. you squeeze your eyes closed at the pain of your hair being pulled, you panties flooding with wetness.

“good girl.” rafe praises you, pumping faster. you moan around his length, glad that you have enough practice on his cock to accommodate him easily, remembering when you first blew him and was unable to take him all the way into your mouth.

you whine as rafe yanks on your hair, using your mouth to get himself off. your throat constricts around him as you resist the urge to cough, managing to squeeze your fists tightly and avoid gagging.

rafe picks his head up from looking at you to glance around again, but he sees no carts or players nearby.

“gonna cum in your mouth baby.” rafe warns, imagining if you did get caught, if someone saw you being such a good slut for him, your jaw slack as his cock pulses in your mouth.

rafe releases quickly after his warning, cum spurting into your mouth. you moan around his length, sucking gently as you help him ride out his high.

rafe pulls you off by your ponytail, tucking his cock back into his pants and redoing them.

“you messed up my hair.” you pout, trying to smooth out your ponytail.

“sorry, baby.” rafe says, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. you wipe your mouth and move to sit back on the seat of the cart, stretching your legs out.

“wanna ride my thigh to make up for it?” rafe asks, sticking his leg out.

“oh, yes!” you squeal, sliding over to push your crotch into his thigh, straddling him.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre

#fun fact i fucking hate this fic!#i just had a different picture in my mind but ugh whatever #i wanna move on #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic #rafe cameron x you #obx x reader #obx fic

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hero-hoe · 2 months

Text

Owner!Ghost with dogboy!Soap who gets puppygirl!Reader as a gift.

MDNI. 18+ ONLY

Hybrid au. Kidnapping tw, naive!reader, Fem!reader, handjobs (m/m). Ghost and Soap are a little off. Sadomasochism tw

Ghost who's had Soap ever since retiring being discharged due to injury and thought "fuck it, I need something to keep me busy", so he gets himself a retired dogboy. Nothing wrong with 'im, they just tend to cycle hybrids out after a few years of use. Any longer and they go a little wrong in the head. Something about their genetics and how they could get too into their tasks and needed human handlers on the outside.

Ghost is pretty sure the one he got is a little messed up anyway. Fine by him, the man had done his fair share of awful things, too far beyond being considered a good man anymore. At least having the mutt gave him purpose again, he was losing his mind trying to fit back in with polite society on his own. Johnny was Price's idea to get Simon out of his house, to take care of himself instead of wasting away in a bare bones cabin in the countryside. Take the dog on walks and all that, get a membership at one of those expensive city gyms that let hybrids in so they could both keep up on their training.

Johnny would bark his ear off about his time in the military, causing messes he never had to clean up and getting paid for it. And he didn't push when Simon said nothing about his own experience. And then they settled into a decent enough routine, too intimate to just be hybrid and handler, but Ghost wasn't a man who liked labels. They were just Johnny and Simon, that's all that mattered.

He got a good dog. Sure, he was a bit off, but nothing that couldn't be handled. He barked a lot, hated strangers, refused to sleep anywhere but Simon's room after the first few nights. And he was energetic, always bouncing off the walls or chasing down random animals in the woods. If he brought back something to snack on, Simon never minded, so long as he clean his own mess. Ghost wasn't above rubbing the dog's nose in the blood and mud puddle left on the kitchen floor. Good thing Johnny learned the first time.

It'd been a few years, Ghost hadn't bothered to keep track, but his silly pup was getting restless. Only after the third time coming home to Johnny humping himself stupid in the toy he'd gotten, teeth sunk into the pillows, did Simon finally take him to the vet. Trying to handle the situation himself hadn't helped, and he didn't like seeing his boy so miserable, even if he looked beautiful because of it. Simon swore Johnny never looked better than when he was desperate and on their sheets, fucking into a silicone pussy like his life depended on it and whimpering into a slobber covered pillowcase.

Everything was normal, the vet said, a waste of £150. It's actually a good thing, they told him, means he's healthy and happy enough to breed and is having ruts. Gave him three options: have Johnny fixed, let the mutt handle it himself every time, or get him someone to play with. Simon was offended at the idea of getting his pup snipped, immediately shutting the thought down. But he couldn't keep watching Soap sob and beg, pleading for something Simon didn't have. He held Johnny in his arms each but after that, making sure to stroke his needy pup through every orgasm needed with a hand around his neck for stability.

Johnny was a good dog, Simon relented. Never once bit without being told and made sure to moan nice and loud whenever he was hit. He deserved a treat.

So Simon did his research, went to all the shelters and breeders and even searched the parks for a new treat for his boy. Nobody was good enough, he thought, until he found you. Soft, sweet, and so, so innocent. You didn't hesitate to take his hand when he offered you a treat and some ear scratches, wandering away from your old owner and right into his truck.

You ate the special biscuits he gave you and fell asleep with a dopey smile on your face, so happy when he told you he was gonna take you home and introduce you to his puppy.

Johnny was at the door like always, waiting on his knees at the time Simon said he'd be home. He was anxious and confused today, able to smell you from outside as soon as Ghost pulled up. You smelled so good, but he hated the idea of Simon bringing another dog home. Was he not enough? He'd been so good, why would his master need another pup?

"Settle, mutt." Simon huffed as soon as he heard Johnny's whine, the hybrid kneeling obediently at the door with his ears tucked back. "Stop the damn whining. Got you somethin'." He huffed, shifting you in his arms.

Johnny scooted closer, staying on the ground and sniffing at you cautiously. One of Ghost's massive hands laced into a well maintained mohawk, tugging tight until he calmed down. The pain grounded him, a reminder that Simon was there, that he wasn't being replaced. "Fer me?" Johnny asked, taking another deep inhale along the skin of your thigh where is dangled over Simon's arm.

Ghost hummed, the sound pulling another whine from Johnny's throat. "Smells s'good." He whispered, eyes dilating as he crawled closer. "She's pure bonnie, Sir."

Straddling Simon's boot, rutting mindlessly against his shin while taking in deep huffs of your skin, Johnny couldn't wait to play with you.

#cod x reader #ghoap x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #hybrid au #owner!ghost #cod drabble #soap drabble #ghost drabble

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thatone-brightstar · 5 months

Text

someone i saw in a dream once...| C. Berzatto x fem!reader oneshot

a/n: creds to the lovely @thebearer bc i love her dad!carm blurbs and wanted to try it out myself... loved it btw. happy holidays and happy new year to you all 🎄✨🧸

ps. I was actually gonna call this "a very merry hoe-liday special" lol

WARNINGS: smut, piv unprotected sex, dirty talk, reader is on birth control but isn't mentioned (wrap it up IRL tho), minors DNI but you'll do what you want so don't say I didn't warn you

“Yours?” He asked lazily.

“Uh… no.” A nervous laugh escaped your chest from your space on the warm bed, one of his arms wrapped around you as the other played with your hand above the covers. “I don’t wanna argue about why we haven’t baptized her yet, again.”

“That’s fair.” He responded with a chuckle.

“Yours?” You asked back.

Carmy shook his head immediately. “Fuck no.”

“Y’know, she’s gonna ask why we’ve never been to her Grams when she’s older…”

“And when she’s older. I’ll tell her ‘bout the time her ‘Grams’ ran the car through the living room on Christmas Eve.” He stayed silent for a little longer and you moved your gaze from your intertwined hands to his creased brows.

As best as you could, you pulled your other arm from under the covers and up to caress the side of his jaw, drawing his eyes back to you.

“I don’t wanna put her through that shit.”

You nodded and offered a thin smile “No- I know.” then dropped your head back over his warm chest. “We don’t have to do anything. We’ll just stay here, watch somethin’ make breakfast… and maybe see the lights when it’s not so cold out.”

“You think she’ll like that?”

“Oh yeah,” You reassured. “Pjs all day, presents and The Grinch? She’s gonna eat that shit up.” Your words made Carmy chuckle again, the sour memory buried back as he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“I dunno why she likes that movie…” He murmured, adding kiss after kiss around your beaming face. “Fuckin’ green thing’s creepy.”

You laughed and slid your arms around his neck while he dropped slowly over your laying body. “Probably reminds her of you, you grinch.”

“Oh yeah? You think I’m a grinch?” Carmy teased, smiling as he continued to drag his lips along your skin, down the side of your jaw and to the little spot against your neck that drew shaky breaths.

One of his hands pushed against the plush mattress to hold himself up while the other began to rake smoothly up your naked thigh. You nodded in agreement, giggling when the soft curls tickled the side of your cheek.

“Save it for naptime-” You reminded him. “Your kid’s got the best timing-”

Almost like clockwork, three little knocks barely rattled the door and you raised your brows up at Carmy. ‘Told ya’ you mouth at him then asked teasingly “Who is it?”.

A little giggle made it past the wood, followed by a tiny voice. “Me mamma!” And another three hurried knocks.

“Come in!” You sang back again as Carmy pushed himself off you and you leaned up just in time to hear the door creak and catch the tiny human hurling herself into the unmade bed. “Omf!”

“Merry Christmas!” She shouted with extended arms once she managed to balance herself over the duvet on her knees.

She threw her tiny arms around both of your necks and pulled you in for a hug as tight as her little strength allowed her. You corresponded the embrace, one arm circling her, while the other hugged Carmy.

“Oh merry Christmas, pretty girl! Did you go see what Santa brought you?” You asked, pushing back the wild hairs she had inherited from her father. She shook her head no.

“Aren’t you curious?” Carmy asked and she nodded. “Cause I think I heard a little bell last night…”

That was enough to rattle her excitement even more, a gasp obvious over her flushed cheeks and before you could say anything else, she dragged herself off the bed and onto the floor.

“C’mon Daddy!” The little girl ordered, taking his hand and dragging him out the room with her.

Your smile beamed as you waved a teasing goodbye at him, then threw yourself back, stretching your limbs into the bed.

“Mommy hurry up!” You heard travel through the hallway and sighed out a short laugh.

“Comin’!”

**********

“Vale, baby, not so close to the tv, okay?” You reminded the toddler from your space by the kitchen counter, slicing up fruit for breakfast.

“I don’t get it…” Carmy continued muttering by your side while whisking the batter.

You sniggered at his tone and shrugged. The theme song to the movie played through the speakers again and you could hear her little voice sing along as the stuffy in her hands danced to the tune.

“I mean, what even is he?”

“a who…” You answered obviously and he furrowed his brows again.

“a what?”

“No daddy-“ She turned around and pushed herself up on the back of the couch to try and appear bigger, stuffed grinch hanging loosely from one of her hands. “a who!”

You laughed as Carmen nodded jokingly, mouth trapped in an obvious ‘oh’ shape and the sound of your laugh made her giggle even harder, before carefully crawling off the couch and padding her way into the kitchen beside him.

“What’cha making?” She asked curiously, standing on her socked toes beside him but barely reaching the top of the counter with her nose.

“Pancakes. You wanna help?” He asked and she nodded excitedly.

Carmy turned to you with a small smile while wiping his hands on his rag, then moved down to pick up the awaiting child, who wrapped her tiny legs as much as she could around his torso.

“Alright chef Valentina,” He began, making her giggle and curl up against his side. “ wanna pour the chips in?”

He sat her on the edge by the bowl and handed her the cup filled to the brim with chocolate chips. It took both of her little hands to hold it and with slightly clumsy movements, she poured them in slowly.

“Atta girl…” He whispered, holding the bowl steady so she could whisk them in, and something about the sweetness in his tone warmed your heart.

You eyed them every few seconds, an ever present smile on your face. It really did warm your heart to see him that way, sweet and nurturing and kind. Carmy was what you always hoped to find in a partner one day, the kind of person you dreamed about but always assumed you’d never have; yet there he was, perfectly present as he helped your daughter flip pancakes for christmas breakfast.

“Mommy look!” She called towards you, making your smile grow twice as big, if that was even possible.

“I see baby, good job!” You praised too and moved to their side.

She stood on her step stool over the pan, at a careful distance from the fire, while you and Carmy guarded her sides. A kiss was placed on her wild hair as you brushed your hand over her back then laced in into Carmy’s arm, leaning your head on his shoulder. A pleasant feeling of contentment washed over you.

**********

Breakfast took up most of your morning, between batter stains and sticky blueberry maple syrup, it was as if the tiring action of flipping a couple pancakes had worn your daughter out and before her plate was finished, her head had begun tipping into it every few seconds.

Carmy chuckled as he watched her chew herself to sleep for the third time while he got up to start clearing out the table.

“I got it.” You whispered, afraid to wake her up, though she was already out like a light against her high chair. “You go put her to bed.”

“Alright little grinch,” He cooed and as soon as he pulled her up from her chair, her limp body draped over his chest. “how does a nap sound?”

Carmy kept mumbling sweet words and rubbing her back in a soothing manner as he carried her into the room. You would have joined them, but he was always the better one to put her to sleep. Something about him gave her a calming and safe sensation.

While Carmy took his time in your daughter’s room, you began to tidy up the kitchen. The ending scenes of the grinch passed through and the last songs served as ambience while you worked. You hummed along to the soundtrack, washing the last few dishes, when an arm gingerly circled your waist and the warmth of his chest pressed to your back.

“Merry Christmas.” He whispered beside your ear, pressing a kiss to your flushed cheek as a beautifully wrapped box appeared in front of you.

You half turned to him with a soft smile pushing up against your cheeks. “Carm, we said no presents…”

“Just open it… you’re gonna love it.” Carmy said with his characteristic shy smile as he took the soapy dish from you and handed you a drying rag.

You dried your palms and took the small box with caution. After undoing the ribbon and slowly pulling off the lid, a beautiful heart locket shone back at you, taking your breath away. With a slow finger you traced the soft ridges and the delicate designs, as if a piece of lace had been dipped in molten gold then shaped into the small work of art

“Oh Bear, it's beautiful…”

“And you can open it too” He added and unhooked his arm from around your hip to take the box back in his hands.

Carefully, he picked it up and pinched the sides open to reveal a tiny photo inside. It was from a few months back, you remembered the day. The Bear had just received its second star and Carmy and Syd had decided to close that day to offer another friends & family dinner. Richie had taken it outside the restaurant just before service. Carmy stood in the middle, with his pristine chef’s whites slightly unbuttoned, Val sat on his shoulders in her best dress and full of glee and you leaned onto his side, left hand cupping his cheek and glowing engagement ring full on display.

You sucked in your bottom lip to avoid the tears threatening to spill out, then turned to him fully and beamed with joy up at him. “You’re right, I love it.”

His proud smile reached the little creases decorating the sides of his eyes before he leaned down to kiss you with adoration.

Before he could go any further, Carmy blindly placed the necklace back into its box, then slid his fingers past your jaw, burying them in your hair. The movement of his desperate lips over yours left you breathless and despite not wanting to, you moved your face to the side to inhale a few deep and shaky breaths. He stayed glued to your skin, peppering wet kisses over your cheek, jaw and holding your hair up above your neck to grant him greater access into the area.

His other hand roamed down the side of your curves until it reached your hips, then it slid under the thin fabric of your shirt and up again, where it found your naked chest. His thumb skimmed over the tender skin of your nipple, making your hands tighten their grasp around the nape of his neck and sigh out another breath.

“Is she…” You tried to ask but failed as he continued his soft movements.

“Asleep? Yeah.” He answered in a deep tone and hungry searched your lips once more.

With each stroke of his thumb and pull on your hair, you could feel him grow harder against your abdomen and the images crossing your mind didn’t help calm the arousal in your gut either.

“Good.” You smiled against his kiss and pulled him in deeper. “Room. Now.”

That’s all it took before he nodded rapidly and began taking quick steps forward, guiding you through the short hallway and into your bedroom, shutting the door lightly. Once at the foot of the bed, Carmy pulled your shirt off in one swift movement and dumped it somewhere on the floor. Now both of his hands held you by your ribcage, both palms massaging your chest and pulling little moans from your joined mouths.

“Fuck- I love you so much.” He groaned, slowly dropping you against the mattress and without daring to detach from your kiss, followed close behind.

Your hands found their own way to his hips, desperately pulling at the hem of his shirt until it was over his head in seconds, disheveling his hair even more. “I love you so much.” You mumbled back.

Your clothes laid discarded around the room in a few seconds, leaving you buried in between the covers and him. A long sigh parted your chest when you finally felt the sweet relief of his cock inside you, matching his tempo with the strokes of his tongue against yours. Your legs parted even deeper to make space for his thrusts, one thigh wrapped around his hips to accentuate them even harder.

“Fuck- Carm-” You moaned close to his face, trying to be as quiet as you could with him slamming into you.

“Shh, shh- you’re doin’ so good baby-” He praised as he adjusted his weight on his arm and wrapped the other around your thigh, pulling it higher up. “God, you feel so- fuuck”

His movements faltered for a second and he gave a soft breathy laugh that fanned the side of your face, then he placed another kiss over your collar bone and began to slam even faster into you.

Your soft cries vibrated against his skin and fueled his pace, almost rocking the headboard against the wall. Carmy rested his forehead against yours, looking directly into your eyes as he pulled your other leg up and spaced them both beside your elbows. The new change in position had you feeling him so deep in your core you could almost taste him and the way your eyes started to lose focus plastered a grin across his face.

“You love it when I fuck you like that, huh?” He asked in a breathless tone, but all you could do was nod frantically. “So fuckin’ beautiful…” He mumbled over and over.

Each stroke felt deeper than the last, the only indication of your upcoming orgasm was the brows screwed over your face and the trembling of your thighs. Carmy rocked himself continuously into you until you couldn’t take it anymore. A thousand little lights exploded behind your eyes, making your back arch away from the bed and your nails dig into his sturdy shoulders. Your walls contracted against his thick cock as he pushed in a few more strokes, before his chest shuttered with a contained groan and he let himself fall carefully over your panting chest.

Carmy pushed himself off you with effort and rolled to your side, then hooked his arm under your shoulders and pulled you to rest over his still rapidly beating heart.

“How does a nap sound?” He whispered over your head after a few silent minutes.

You chuckled at his tone but nodded in agreement, tracing little shapes over his chest until his beats took a more relaxed tempo and the breaths fanning over your hair grew longer and heavier.

**********

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne , @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha , @yum-yahgurt , @pussy-f41ry , @kirakombat , @redsakura101 , @hobisunshine13 , @feyhunter78, @xeneth99 and that's it lmao

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victoria-writes · 3 months

Text

I will never forget you.

Pairing: Legolas x Reader (gender neutral)

Summary: Legolas proposes to you and reassures you that he wants to be with you. Fluff & Angst with a happy ending + bonus ending

Word Count: 1605

Notes:

Reader is human

No gender or pronouns used to refer to the reader. Reader is briefly mentioned to have short hair

MENTIONS OF DEATH (reader's). Don't read if you're not ok with thinking about your own mortality xoxo

Read it on AO3 here

Story:

It has been months since you moved to Mirkwood with the prince following the disbandment of the fellowship and destruction of the one ring. Sometimes your mind would drift to what could’ve happened had the ring fallen into the wrong hands or if any other evil lies dormant, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. You could never sit with these thoughts for long, though. Legolas seemed to have a sixth sense for when you needed to see the good in the world again. Today was one of those days.

“Come, there is something I wish to show you”, the elf smiled as he stretched his hand out, waiting for you to take it from your place sitting in a wooden chair inside the royal palace.

“It better not be another elk giving birth in the woods. I’m still traumatized from your idea of ‘the beauty of nature’”, you grimace at the memory still not extending your hand.

“No, no, nothing like that. I promise”, he chuckles softly.

“Fine”.

Legolas had brought you to a clearing in the forest, surrounded by old-growth trees and wildflowers. White queen anne’s lace, forget-me-nots, and flowers whose names you did not know, who only seemed to grow near where elves trot, filled your eyes. This is not the first time he’s found a quiet spot in nature to take you, and it will surely not be the last. While overlooking the rainbow of colors seemingly dancing in the field in front of you, you sneak a glance at the elf from the corner of your eye. He stands confidently with his hands behind his back next to you and smiles. If it were anyone else looking at him, they’d think he was completely at ease. Anyone but you. The look in his eyes said “Do you like it? Do you? Please tell me you like it.”. He always wanted to impress you, whether it be shooting three arrows at once when one would suffice, wearing his nicest clothes (“Legolas why are you wearing your ceremonial attire?” “Don’t worry about it, father”.), or finding the best places to take you. Be still, your beating heart. For a nearly 3,000 year old elf, he acted like a lovesick teenager.

“It’s absolutely beautiful”, you finally say after a long silence. Legolas releases tension in his shoulders he didn’t even realize he was holding.

“I knew you would. Let us sit in the grass.”, he guided you so that he was sitting with your back against his chest, his legs on either side.

You felt your tongue form teasing words about him taking you on a hike to a remote spot just for a cuddle, but they faded away as he wrapped his arms around your sides and began to plant soft, slow kisses on your neck and shoulder. You melted into his warm touch.

“May I braid your hair?”

“Yes, but there’s not much to braid.”, you reply. You had recently gotten a haircut and felt as though Legolas may be disappointed. He was very enthusiastic about your new look the first time he saw it, but now you fear he may not enjoy it.

“Nonsense, I shall make many small plaits instead”.

“Alright”, you relaxed into his hands as he began to weave strands of hair behind you. You closed your eyes, as you reveled in the feeling of the sunlight on your face as he worked. All was quiet aside from the occasional bird chirping or squirrel running up a tree. A warm feeling took hold in your chest and you couldn’t help the smile that formed on your lips. You were safe. You were happy. You were in love.

Millenia seemed to pass before Legolas announced he was done. True to his word, he had formed many braids in your hair. He may have gone a little overboard with just how many he made, but he just loved the feeling of being so close to you and never wanted it to end.

“Thank you”, you whisper as your turn to face him, giving him a peck on the lips. You move your hand to feel the back of your head, itching to feel the braids your lover gifted you. Soft. Your fingers feel something soft. Something thin and soft.

“Forget-me-not flowers”, Legolas clarified, seeing you trying to decipher with your fingers, “I thought them appropriate”.

“Why is that?” “They are gifted to one whose presence you enjoy, so as not to forget them, as the name implies. I could never forget you and I hope you would not forget me. Each past day with you is a beloved memory and each day to come cannot come soon enough. I treasure each moment with you. I feel myself drowning in my affection for you. No, peacefully swimming. I adore you. I cannot bear to be without you.”, he says softly as he holds both your hands and kisses each one, never breaking eye contact.

“Oh, Legolas”

“Meleth nîn”, he uses his hands to guide you both to your feet. As you look up into his bright blue eyes, he whispers “Please allow me to never be without you. Allow me to walk beside you for all the days we may share together before death takes us. I have lived millennia without you. Now that I know what life is like with you in it, I never want to go back. I want you with me, always.”

“Are you asking me-?”, you begin as he kneels down in front of you and pulls out a ring from his pocket.

“Y/N, will you marry me?”, he gazes at you with hope in his eyes as he lifts the ring towards you.

“Yes. Yes. Yes!”, he quickly puts the ring on your left ring finger and you pull him into a harsh kiss. You and the elf wear matching smiles as you kiss long and hard.

“I’m so happy, Legolas…but is this what you really want?”, your smile drops as your nerves hit you. “Of course, my love. Why do you question my intentions?”.

“It’s not your intentions that I question. It’s just that you’re…you”, you vaguely gesture at the elf.

“I’m not following.”

“You’re a prince. I’m poor. You’re an elf that’ll live thousands of years. I’m a human that’ll be lucky if I make it to 70.” “I don’t care about that.”

“Your father won’t approve.” “I care not what my father thinks. His opinion of our union will not sway me.”

“Then what of my mortality? One day I will die and leave you alone.”

He sighs before he speaks, “I must admit I have thought long and hard on this subject. The thought of your death pains me to no end.” “Exactly. Our marriage would be short-lived in your long lifetime and I will become nothing but a memory to you, one that will fade one day.”

“What are you saying?” “I’m saying you love me now, but one day I will die and you’ll move on and I’ll mean nothing to you. One day you’ll laugh at how you ever loved a silly human”, tears began to well in your eyes, shame overtaking you as you finally let out the fears you’ve been harboring all this time. Your gaze drifts downwards, unable to face your elven lover. Legolas’ eyes widened in realization, shocked at your true feelings. He manages to compose himself and lifts your chin up with his index finger.

“Meleth nîn, look at me. Y/N, please.”, he whispers his request.

“It is true that my life will continue when yours ends.”

Hot tears began to run down your cheeks at this.

“But”, he swipes the tears away with his thumb, “You will always be a part of it. Even when you are gone, I will love you. You have shown me love that I did not think was possible. When you are gone, I will visit your grave with flowers each day. I will braid my hair and miss the touch of yours. I will never remarry. I will walk the paths we have taken together. I will meditate in this very spot, remembering this moment. I will never forget you. In life and in death, we are connected. I love you”.

“And I love you”, you barely choke the words out through your tears.

“Knowing all this, my silly human,”he teases before turning serious, “Will you marry me?” “Of course, I’ll marry you, you ridiculous elf”.

You both grin as Legolas lifts you up and spins you in his arms. When your feet are planted on the Earth again he kisses you deeply. As you feel your lips on your own, you imagine a thousand more kisses each day with him for the rest of your days.

Bonus

Many moons have passed since your passing. Legolas meant every word of his promise and has done all that he said. Before he rests each night, he reads the book on his nightstand, your favorite book of poems. He recalls reading it to you on nights your eyes were too tired as he pet your hair while you laid on his chest. When he wakes each morning, he glares at the large empty space beside it, wishing it were you. Although his heart pangs at the loss of you, he finds joy and comfort in revisiting your old haunts, his favorite being the spot where he proposed to you. Today, our elf wanders into the cemetery. “Hello, meleth nîn”, he smiles as he places a bouquet of freshly picked forget-me-nots on your grave.

#angst and fluff #human reader #legolas x yn #legolas x y/n #legolas greenleaf #legolas x reader #legolas #lord of the rings #lotr x reader #lotr #the lord of the rings #lotr x you #lotr x y/n #legolas x you #legolas/reader #legolas/yn

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novasintheroom · 7 months

Text

A home for you and me

Combining these two asks since they both ask for the same line! Hope you don't mind <3

♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader

♡ Word count - 0.9k

♡ Warnings - none

♡ Description: It's a new chapter in your lives.

Now part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3

It’s a hot day. Most people are avoiding the worst of it by staying indoors, where some have cooling vents from the Plant, and others just have shade.

Vash feels sweat drip down his back, his knuckles lightly cramping around the cloth handles for bags laden with food stuffs. He’s happy with the haul from the market. Fresh fruit and vegetables, with synthetic meat that didn’t look too grey. This town really was a good place to settle down. He’ll have to tell you again when he gets home.

Home.

What a strange concept. Over one-hundred and fifty years on No Man’s Land, and Vash could hardly call any place truly home. Sure, there’s the ship, Home. Luida and Brad are wonderful. But he never wanted to overstay his welcome there, always leaving within a few days to hoof it once again across the deserts and try to repent for his wrongs. And always being on the run as either an outlaw or just an unwanted or unwelcome stranger made it impossible to settle down anywhere.

Until now.

Home comes into view as he rounds a corner. Sitting along a row of similar houses, it’s small, built of metal and rock and precious few beams of wood to bend in the desert winds. Three painted pots sit near the door – a craft you’d insisted on doing to help brighten the outside with more than oranges and browns. The string lights sway in the slight breeze over the doorway, waiting to turn on once the suns dip lower and the shadows come.

Someone might say it’s not much. But give them a century of travel, and it’ll become the best thing a man has seen.

His left hand turns the handle of the door – unlocked, you probably saw him coming through the window – and goes inside.

He only has a moment to hear your squeal and drop the groceries before you launch yourself at him. He catches you, feels your legs wrap around his waist to keep yourself locked in place. He is pummeled by your lips on his jaw, his neck, his cheeks. “Mayfly – !” He’s already overheated, but this is making it worse. “What are you – “

“I’m so happy we have a house!” You exclaim, planting a big kiss on the corner of his mouth. “I’m so happy you get to get groceries!”

Ah, zoomies. You’d been doing this lately, just too happy to have a house to do anything but run around or kiss him. He lets out a laugh, pulling you into a hug to stop your onslaught. “Can I at least shut the door before you decide to pounce on me the moment I come home?” He walks into the hallway, gently kicking the door closed behind.

You snort and pull back with a look. “You know you love it.”

He hums. “I’m sure the neighbors love it too,” he says. Still, he leans forward and catches your lips in a full kiss.

When you pull back, you finally put your feet back to the floor and stoop down to gather the grocery bags. “C’mon, I’ve been rearranging the furniture and I need to get your opinion. Oh, also, one of the neighbors came by and gave us a casserole! Isn’t that weird? She was super nice, though. I think she said she lives a few doors down, but I’ll have to check again. I think she has those two teenage boys that we saw walking earlier. Looked a lot like her!”

You wander down the hall, expecting him to follow at your heels, just like when you travelled. But Vash has to take a moment. You’re carrying groceries instead of supplies for camp. There’s food in the house, a place to safely lay your heads. You cut a beautiful figure, knocking into the corner as you go to the kitchen with what he brought home. Already trusting he got the right supplies, that this is going to work. You want him to look at the furniture.

You pop your head back in the hall when he doesn’t immediately show up. Your face falls, and you’re rushing to him. “Birdie, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” You reach up, and Vash is surprised to feel tears being wiped away. He hadn’t known he was crying. “Did something happen at the market?”

Vash takes a moment to rein it in. Then he pulls you into a tight hug, a watery laugh spilling out. “I’m just…really glad we have a home.”

You coo and rub his back. It still has all the scars and metal plates under the shirt. All the reminders of where he’s been, what he’s gone through. You feel your own tears prick in your eyes. What you would give to make that go away. But it’s what made him the man he is today, and you wouldn’t have him any other way. Your sweet man. You rock him side to side with your feet and whisper, “Me too, sweetheart.”

Vash sniffles into your shoulder, glasses pressed into the crook of your neck. Then he pulls away, sighing and wiping his eyes. “Alright, alright, I’m done.” He laughs. Then, looking down, he asks, “One more kiss? Please?”

With a smile, you say, “See? I knew you loved it.” You go to your tiptoes and press your lips to his.

#trigun #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #tristamp #writing #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #self insert #reader insert #nova writes #150 Bullets

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stargirlsmooch · 10 months

Note

would you like to write something like:

modern abby and her best friend are both working on their athletic careers but trying to always be there for each other!

until one day- volleyball player! reader had an important game and abby forgot about it, going out with her friends after her training session! but when she goes (running) to the place of the match there's no one other than a sad reader (her team lost) and they start arguing but then abby kisses her 😔

[thank you for everything you post 🤍 wish you a lot of happiness (and yes i'm in love with your acc)]

would i like to write something like this??? ughhhhh... yes please, baby. I'm sorry it took me so long to get to the request... i have just been in such a rut recently but sexy abby anderson can always break me out of it.

let's go :)

warnings: fem!reader, alcohol, love, mutual pining, tongue sucking and some making out, an ass grab, boobie talk, a baseball reference

the match wasn't going the way you wanted needed it to. it didn't matter how many points you won, the other team just seemed to do one better... and it was eating at you.

and what was worse? you couldn't see her in the crowd.

abby. your best friend. your personal cheerleader. nowhere to be seen. and that somehow felt worse than all of your hard work training for this match going to waste.

the referee blew her whistle long and hard, signalling the end of the game as the other side of the net erupted into cheers and celebrations, and it broke your heart. you had lost before, you were a well-seasoned athlete in your last year of college, a professional contract just out of reach, but each loss hurt just as bad as the one before it.

but if a loss was a broken heart, a forgotten promise was your heart being ripped out; she swore she would be here, at the back of the bleachers where she usually sat, her fingers crossed in the hope that you would once again lead your team to victory. instead, she was...

---

... at the fucking bar. her teammates all crowded around a table, pizzas and vodka-sodas covering the expanse of the dark wood as they all celebrated a successful practice and a week free from competition.

abby had gone a little too hard, she and her co-captain jokingly practicing their victory speeches and doing a shot or two of tequila before falling into an easy yet slightly slurred chat.

"so, you going to that party becky was talking about tomorrow?" abby asked, throwing her pizza crust onto the tray in front of them and taking another drink from the waitress who offered her one.

"you mean the party on friday?" her friend laughed, jokingly sliding abby's drink away from her, hinting at the fact that abby might have had a little too much.

she couldn't help the chuckle that burst out of her lungs at (what she thought was) a joke.

"yeah, tomorrow." abby paused, her eyes widening, "tomorrow is friday."

"abs... tomorrow is thursday," was what she heard, solidifying her nightmare.

but it still took abby a good 30 seconds to take in the news, and another 30 seconds to realise the grave mistake that she had made; wednesday, your match. shit.

---

the steel of the door smashed against the palms of her hands as she flung the sports hall's door open, rushing inside and making it only to the edge of court before she saw you, head in your hands and weeping. if abby listened closely enough, she could hear your quiet sniffles.

"everyone else's friends managed to come," you rushed out, albeit quietly, only just lifting your head enough to meet her eyes, "so you better have a damn good excuse."

abby dropped her head, her right hand automatically sliding around the back of her neck to try to expel some of her awkwardness and guilt. she didn't say anything, she couldn't, because she had no reason good enough for upsetting her best friend.

"nevermind. i can smell the fucking tequila from here." you raised your voice, letting your anger take control as you shoved your sports bag onto your shoulder and made to leave, only making it two steps before abby came up behind you, grabbing your wrist.

"i have no excuse, okay? i forgot, and i'm sorry." choosing the honesty route, she let the words hang in the air behind you, your eyes still pointed away from her.

"we lost, abby." the anger that was once at the wheel wasn't there for long as your earlier disappointment floated back into your head. you stepped back into abby's chest as she laid her chin on top of your head and wrapped an arm around your chest, your back plastered to her front.

"i'm so sorry, honey."

"i needed you here, abs." you whispered, turning around in her embrace to look into her eyes, your arms instinctively going around her waist, holding her closer.

it happened slowly: that first look down at your lips, stealing the words off her tongue as she shot her eyes back up to yours, seeing that they too were now pointing down slightly. and then she couldn't stop herself from leaning in closer, and closer, until your mouths touched gently, your recently glossed lips sliding over hers.

she had once thought about your first kiss, thinking it would never come but hoping so desperately that it would. it would be soft and slow and tender- and it was all of those things, for the first ten seconds.

and then abby felt your hand slip into her hair behind her braid and your breasts squish against her hard chest, your nipples grazing against hers through your sports bras.

you made abby lose it; sucking her tongue into your mouth and sucking on it, tasting her desperately as her hands slid to your ass, squeezing roughly and making you yelp and lose contact.

"okay okay, wait," you said, a hand on abby's chest, keeping her at bay. "i'll forgive if you let me go to third base."

abby laughed, out of breath, "i don't play baseball but you can eat me out."

#abby anderson smut #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fluff #hann answers

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wroteclassicaly · 9 months

Text

Fallin’ For His Darlin’

(Gator Tillman x Female Reader)

Word count: 1,062

Pairings: Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of trauma, wounds, pain, anxiety, and depression, vaginal sex, fluff, hurt/comfort, vaginal fingering, kind of dark!Gator, kind of soft/anxious too, etc.

A/N: So inspired tonight, listened to some mood music, feeling that fall vibe, haha! Hope y’all enjoy? I’m pretty happy with this one! And I can’t wait to see our boy in action 😭 P.S, forgive my shitty graphic making, I’m not good at that!

You’re not sure what time it is. Maybe midnight? You aren’t positive, because when his headlights find your garage door, floating in through your window like his own personal spotlight, his tires skid across the gravel of your lane, his car door heavily thudding closed, his boots crunching heavily over rough ground, signaling him closer… closer — time ceases to matter much. You’re meeting him eagerly over the threshold, his back slammed against the beat up wood, boots falling beside your sneakers on the entryway rug. Nothing can find you here, can harm you here, and what has lifelong permission to touch you, it’s always-only… him.

He smells as good as always. Spicy cologne and cigarettes, powdered sugar from the donuts he’d eaten for dinner (you are always on him to eat more), leftovers from your shared favorite diner — Angelica’s, still pressed into his crisp black t-shirt, as if he’d forgotten a napkin. His hair is usually in its less than pristine condition by the time he arrives at yours in the night hours. Doesn’t matter anyways, not with how you end up carrying on in front of your old fireplace (Gator’s a fan of your new cream rug, intricate floral patterns woven into it, loved by owners before, thrifted, and now yours), or on your couch. You’d never really gone to your bed, learning how those times nearly caused lines to be crossed, one ending with Gator falling asleep on your naked breasts, (the calmest he’s been in years, and you just watching him as the sun came up and cast a glow on his youthful head. he was lost, broken, beaten down).

Sticking to this, here in your living room, it’s safer, saner. But it’s not what you want. However, you’ll have him whichever way he offers. He’s Gator and you’re his sweet darlin’.

~*~

Your legs fall open, one wrapped up in his camouflage pant clad thighs. His fingers press deeper inside of you, thumb circling your curls, smearing the cream around in them, watching how it bubbles. You’re kissing him again, lips so soft on his chest, fingernails scraping through the thick tufts that rest on his chest, occasionally flicking his gold and silver chain overlays. You’d gotten him the gold pendant, something he could wear, a symbol for faith that Gator could attach his own meaning to, not having to wear because it meant what his father wanted it to. But it was safe enough that Roy wouldn’t question its meaning.

Your lips find that patch of skin by his left nipple, sucking it between your lips, before you bite down. Gator throbs in his pants, his spare hand squeezing your neck’s nape. Despite his fascination, he’s still a million miles away. “Why do you let me do this to you?”

It’s a default question, an answer you both know already. Why you let him love you like this, it’s so simple…

“These hands, what I do with them before I come here. I’m bad. And I could hurt you, you know?” He adds a little pressure that travels up your scalp in electric prickles.

You spread yourself wider for him, a third finger stretching you in a welcomed, boundary pushing burn. Your eyes meet the midnight murk that’s woven over his mossy pupils like a blanket to mask, face leaving that cove of his chest. Your finger reaches to rub along his lower lip, his tongue licking out to taste skin.

“You wouldn’t, Gator. You won’t...” Is your answer. As if you believe it more than you believe in any god or higher power.

He’s pushing, as he often does…

“And if I do?”

“Then I’d let you.” It’s plain and simple, your fingers leaving his mouth to wrap around his wrist and correct him to a deeper rhythm. This is not enough tonight. More. Fuck, you want him to swallow you whole, capture you, trap, and hurt you in the ways you welcome — how he can, ever so softly, but painfully blissful, like a fire to your fingertips, flames licking the skin, enough to sting, but never to take away in harm.

He’s fully hard, swollen, and he’s turning towards you, forcing you to him by your nape. Your noses bump into a brushing nudge, his hand leaving your cunt and pressing wet, calloused fingers to your jaw as he brings you into his mouth. He’s so warm, plush, his stubble has a scratching effect. He tastes like sweet sugar and Marlboros. He’s been smoking menthol, you note — what he switches to in the colder seasons.

He’s panting his next declaration over your mouth in a fragile concentration. “Would you let me put it inside of you, darlin’?”

Your thighs tighten together, pussy clicking noisily. You’ve never had penetrative sex with him yet, something so close for two childhood friends. But you’re ready to leap if he is, reaching for his hand on your jaw and squeezing over his knuckles. “What do you think I’ve been waiting for, Gator?”

~*~

Approaching Autumn glides in on the cool September rain of Sunday, leaves and earth filling your room with the harsh scent of two bodies connecting. Your blush curtains blow against the chipped, open window frames. Your nipples have hardened from the cool air, from dragging repeatedly across Gator’s chest hair, his necklaces dipping into your collar bones and the valley of your tits. He’s got your legs held around his waist, your hands pulling in his hair to mess it up, his nose finding yours, foreheads sticking with perspiration. The box of condoms lay abandoned at your bedside, a gamble in you, of which Gator is only ever willing to trust.

Your eyes tighten and close, his size making you feel as if you’ve never been touched or fucked before in your lifetime. Everything aches, everything is too much, all at once.

“Should I stop? You hurtin’?” He’s speaking to you in a way that makes tears gather in your lash line. He brushes them away with a rough thumb, then a trigger finger, almost immediately.

His hands let your legs drop to take your fingers in his own, directing one to his shoulder and the other around his waist. “Hold onto me?”

“I’ll never stop.” And you’re surging in for a kiss.

The rain hasn’t stopped when the sun begins to come up the next morning. And your boy sleeps soundly on your chest, uncaring. And that funny thing called time? Well, it still ceases to exist.

// Eat me paragraph //

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roanniom · 2 years

Text

Animals

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Summary: You and Eddie go camping with Steve and Robin, but when you both go off to get something from the car...you end up getting frisky. That’s it. That’s the fic.

Note: This was born both from a request from @boomhauer who said “I’d be totally down for Eddie getting freaky on the hood of a car” as well as a post I made earlier today about pet names Eddie would call you. As you shall see, I had him use a record amount and I am rightfully proud of myself.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, unprotected sex / PIV sex / semi-public sex, fingering, creampie, dirty talk but really more humorous than anything, alcohol and drug consumption

~*~

Eddie Munson is a menace. You know this to be true, and you have known it since you met him. But getting into a relationship with him opened you up to a whole new level of extreme. Even though you’d been close friends for years, you’re only just learning now that he’d been holding back facets of his personality. And you’re more than happy to discovery them - more Eddie just meant more to love.

Which is how you find yourself tipsy and traipsing through the woods with Eddie draped around you from behind. You squeal as he rests way too much of his weight on you, arms loosely slung around your shoulders, his chest to your back.

You’re on a camping trip with Steve and Robin, but you all had run out of the first case of beer that you’d packed for the night. Eddie had chivalrously volunteered to make the trek back down the hill to where you all had parked your cars to grab the extra case he’d left in the van. Of course, you’d immediately jumped up and volunteered yourself as bodyguard and guide.

“After all, you can be directionally challenged and the woods are dangerous, pretty boy,” you’d cooed, stepping forward to encircling him in your possessive embrace. He’d smirked down at you.

“Gonna keep me safe, my warrior Princess?”

You’d stepped onto tiptoes and pulled him down for a kiss, whispering against his lips, “I’d slay dragons for you, Munson.”

“Ooookay, so I’m gonna need about four more beers if I’m gonna have to deal with this sickening nerd shit for the rest of the night.” Steve’s voice had broken through your moment, along with the sound of Robin fake gagging.

“Yeah you guys are cute and stuff but can you be cute while, I don’t know, actually getting the beer?” Robin had whined. You’d flipped them both off and grabbed Eddie by the front of the shirt, marching defiantly into the woods while Eddie had thrown a shrug and a wink over his shoulder at your shared friends.

And now you’re stumbling through the trees, feeling Eddie plaster sloppy kisses down the side of your neck from behind. You cause him to almost trip as you come to an abrupt stop, but even that doesn’t cause him to miss a beat in his assault on your skin.

“Got us lost, baby? I thought you knew the way,” he teases between wet, sucking kisses. You sigh in frustration even as you tilt your head to the side to give him more access.

“I didn’t get us lost, it’s just…hard to concentrate when you’re…fuck.” You’re laughing in spite of yourself as you struggle to speak, words coming out with a moaning pitch.

“When I’m ‘fuck’?” Eddie questions. He takes advantage of your current stand still to push your back up against the nearest tree. He edges your feel apart and slots his thigh between your legs leaning in to continue his mauling kisses down the front of your throat this time. “Is that an inarticulate way of saying I’m ‘sex literally embodied’?”

“No, you’re a fucking gremlin, Munson,” you gasp out while grasping tightly on his messy hair. Eddie hisses, both from the sting and with faux incredulity.

“You’re turned on by gremlins? That’s kinda sick, baby. Maybe I should let the town know that you’re the freak, not me— ” You cut him off by yanking him down to your level and beginning to kiss the life out of him. He groans loudly into your open mouth and you register that the volume of his sounds has probably scared away any nearby nocturnal wildlife.

You and Eddie are the things that go bump in the night.

Your hand slides down Eddies chest to clutch at the fabric of his shirt, nails digging into his skin below. Just as you do that he lifts his knee so that his thigh slots higher up between your thighs, giving your rolling pelvis something to grind against. You pull away from his mouth to pant heavily.

“Okay fuck, sue me. You’re sex embodied. You happy?” you groan. Eddie chuckles and maintains eye contact as his hands on your waist guide your hips to grind against his thigh.

“Ecstatic. That’s all I wanted.”

Pleasure courses through your veins and you slide your hand down further from Eddie’s chest to meet your favorite package. Straining in his jeans.

“Anything to say about me, pretty boy?” you fish with mischief gleaming in your eyes. Eddie’s lips are parted as he grunts in response to the way you’ve begun palming the outline of his member.

“You’re ethereal. Exquisite. My goddess divine,” Eddie rambles, placing kissing on your throat, jaw, and collar bone between each descriptor. You throw your head back and laugh.

“Oh fuck you.”

“Would ya?”

You bite your lip and nod coyly. As if you aren’t practically jerking him off through his jeans already. As if you aren’t already rubbing yourself to pleasure against his thigh.

Without warning Eddie peels you off the tree he had you pressed against and hauls you forward through the forest.

“Where are we going?” you ask breathlessly, holding onto his arm for dear life as he practically runs.

“The van,” he says as if it was the most obvious answer ever. You dig your heels into the ground to try and make him stop, giggling furiously.

“The van’s that way, you idiot!” you pull him the opposite way. “I fucking told you you’re directionally challenge. Thank god I’m here.”

“My hero!” Eddie pretends to fake swoon onto you and you shove his body away with a smile, running the last few meters into the clearing where the little pull off parking area was which harbored your cars. Eddie chases after you, practically tackling when you reach the van, making you squeal.

“Robin and Steve are waiting...oh...waiting for the beers!” you try your best to gasp out as Eddie descends on your lips, hands squeezing you all over. He’s got you pressed into the side of his van, much more purposefully than he had pressed you against the tree.

“Robin and Steve are drunk,” Eddie replies, moving to sloppily kiss your jaw.

“And you aren’t?” you challenge, jutting your chin up to coax him down to your neck. He happily obliges.

“Drunk on you.”

“That’s cheesy as fuck.”

“Yeah? Let’s see if your pussy agrees with that sentiment.” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at rucks up your skirt, pawing at the front of your panties. He’s met with even more wetness than he expected and his eyes go wide with glee. “Exactly as I thought. This pussy is on my side.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you say, rolling your eyes. But your hands betray you, fingers digging into his arms as Eddie’s digits slip past the hem of your panties to slide through the waiting slick beyond.

“She doesn’t think I’m ridiculous.”

“You are NOT anthropomorphizing my pussy right now.”

“She’s upset you’ve been neglecting her,” Eddie says with a pout, eyes puppy-dog-round even as his fingertip swirls sinfully around your clit. Your hips buck into his hand.

“H-how could I have neglected he - I mean it,” you add on pointedly, glaring daggers at him. Eddie licks his lips which pull up in a smirk.

“She’s so wet and needy and I’ve been right here all along. It’s a crime you didn’t ask me to make it go away.” He leans forward and mouths wetly at your collar bone, pulling down the sagging off-the-shoulder neckline of your oversized sweater.

“Okay stop talking about my pussy like that,” you command without any heat. Eddie nods sympathetically.

“Alright I hear you.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, yeah I do,” Eddie breathes, nosing into the valley of your cleavage. Your head rolls back against the side of the van as Eddie works his finger inside you, the heel of his palm taking over applying pressure on your clit.

“Mmm thank you.” It is gratitude both for the pleasure he is bestowing upon you and for his promise to stop being ridiculous.

“Besides, I need to show some love to my other two favorite girls,” Eddie murmurs sweetly, pulling away from you long enough to lift the lower hem of your sweater up over your breasts.

“Wait, what?”

Eddie’s free hand is on your bare tits immediately, lifting and squeezing and molding his palm against the plush flesh. You groan.

“Jesus Christ, Munson.”

“Jesus Christ yourself, sugar tits. You want me to stop being ridiculous, you shoulda had a less spectacular rack.” His voice is affecting a cliche jock-esque accent and he gives you a roguish wink, which makes you swiftly smack him upside the head. He lets out a moan.

“Fucking of course you like getting smacked,” you laugh in frustration. Eddie nods his head vigorously.

“Hit me harder. Come on baby, that the best you can do?”

“Eddie!” you’re rolling your eyes again, but this time they roll back because he’s added another finger inside you. He’s pumping with intention now and your hips roll and your back arches so that your tits are more fully pressed into his touch.

“Slap me? How about choke me a little - just a little!” He’s barely able to get the words out himself through his own gleeful laughter. Deep down you know he’s only partially joking. You’ve seen the way he reacts when your nails dig into his skin. The way his eyes almost cross when you tug too hard on his curls. But something to dig into another night. Because now you’re already rocketing towards that great precipice.

“Fuck, princess. That’s it. Give it to me.” He’s talking about your orgasm. He owns it. It’s his. So you acquiesce. You cum all over his fingers, abdomen stuttering with the force of the contractions as waves of pleasure ricochet throughout your body. You cry out his name and he does his best to muffle the sound by kissing you but you’re sure the woodland animals, and Steve and Robin, and fuck - even god himself - must have heard you.

You’ve barely started to come back to your senses when you feel your back being pressed down against cool metal. Your skirt is bunched up around your waist and your sweater is still gathered up under your under arms, your tits still exposed. Eddie stands between your thighs, ripping open his belt buckle and yanking down his pants and boxers. He pulls out his swollen, hardened cock and strokes it a few times, his other hand pressing down on the crease between your pelvis and your thigh to keep you open and exposed to him.

“Fuck yesss,” he exhales, as if the sight of your practically transparent wet panties stretched across your pussy lips is the exact kind of relief he needs after a hard day. And maybe that’s not too far off. He has been hard practically all day.

Watching Eddie fist his cock is mesmerizing and you spread yourself open even further, welcoming him in. When the outer sides of your thighs also meet cold metal, however, you begin to recognize your surroundings.

“Eddie...” you say as a warning.

“Yeah, my beloved?” he singsongs down at you. He leans over, one arm supporting him beside your head and the other guiding the tip of his cock into your folds.

“We’re...we’re on the hood of a car.” You gasp when suddenly Eddie slams forward, sheathing himself all the way inside you. A million emotions flicker across his contorting face as he tries to calm himself down from the initial squeeze and how good it felt to be inside you again.

“That we are, yes,” he hums, eyes closed against the pleasure.

Your head turns wildly from one side to the other for a full assessment. Your own eyes fly open wide.

“You’re fucking me on the hood of Steve’s car?!”

“Well yeah. The hood of the van is too high up. Wouldn’t be able to get the right angle.” He gives this explanation as if the original question is silly and not worth his time. As he begins to find a rhythm with his thrusts, he places a sweet kiss to your cheek and then forehead. “And I know my baby needs the best angle, isn’t that right?”

“Eddie I can’t fucking believe - oh my god.” He shifts between your legs and tilts his pelvis so that his next thrust hits right at the spot that has you seeing stars. He clocks this positive reaction and doubles down, dedicating all his force and energy on hitting repeatedly into that place. Your fingers scrabble against his shoulders for purchase. “Oh my fucking god.”

“You were saying?” Eddie taunts. Sweat has begun to bead on his brow and he’s panting openly over you now. His thrusts are so hard Steve’s car begins to bounce on it suspension. Your mouth opens and closes a few times but no further words can come out, neither praise nor reprimand. Eddie definitely notices this. “Aw, sweetie. A few minutes with my cock in you and I’ve already fucked you dumb, huh? What happened to that mouth?”

You do your best to glare at him, but your eyes begin rolling back of their own volition. Eddie’s grinning down at you now.

“It’s hot, right? Fucking on Harrington’s car?” He leans further down over you, burying his face in your neck as he doubles his efforts pistoning his cock in and out of you. “Now any time he pulls up you’ll have to remember this. You, flat on your back. Smudging this nice car. Taking my cock so well.”

You let out a hiccupping moan, nodding. Eddie kisses your neck and tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you up and down on the surface of the hood now so that your body crashes into his with each forward thrust of his hips. Your pelvises meeting each time with toe-curling force.

You begin chanting his name, in a whisper this time. A big difference from earlier when you screamed his name as he fingered you. The pressure is intense. The situation is too damn wrong and hot and sexy. His lips are stationed at your ear so you can hear every one of his strangled breaths, his moans, even a full on whimper or two.

“Eddie...so...good...I’m...”

“Mmm again, baby? Is it my fucking birthday? C’mon, give it to me again, fuck.”

His words are fucking ridiculous, yet again, and you end up cumming and laughing at the same time. A combination that has you spasming and clamping down on his cock in a way that has Eddie practically convulsing and shouting out. His own release takes him utterly by surprise and he thrusts into you a few more times before biting down on your shoulder and anchoring you to him by your waist. His cock plunges deep inside you and twitches, painting your inner walls. He grunts against you until his cock stills, at which point he laves his tongue across the indents his teeth left on your shoulder.

“I....you...” you struggle to breathe out as you yet again return down to earth from your high. You gaze unseeingly up at the sky above him, your hands squeezing weakly at his back. “I think you killed me.”

“I killed you? I think you squeezed my soul out of my fucking dick, baby,” Eddie barks with a laugh.

“And here I was supposed to protect you,” you joke with a shaky chuckle. Eddie lifts up, propping his hand against the car so he has enough room to press a sweet kiss to your bruised lips.

“You can steal anytime, you beautiful siren.” You kiss him back with feeling, wincing when he pulls out of you and dropping your head back down against the hood. Eddie whistles low and you look up just as he begins pushing his cum back into your dripping hole.

“Eddie!” you admonish. He gives you a wolfish grin.

“What? You can’t leak cum all over Steve’s car. What are we, animals?”

He lunges forward and swallows your answering laughter before it, too, can fill up the night air.

~*~

When you arrive back at the campsite, the case of beer tucked under one of Eddie’s arms, you tucked under the other, you’re greeted by a swirling cloud of musky smoke. Robin and Steve peer back at you with dumb smiles and bleary eyes, Steve’s head resting in Robin’s lap.

“Is that from my stash, Harrington?” Eddie asks, dropping the case the floor and pulling two cans out, handing you one. Though it’s an accusation, Eddie is smiling and there’s only amusement in his voice.

“Yeah, you brought the good shit. Thanks for that,” Steve says, his dopey grin getting even wider. He passes the joint he’s holding up to Robin, who takes a long drag. When she exhales, she coughs a little.

“We didn’t think you’d mind. Since you were taking a fucking lifetime with the beer.”

You busy yourself cracking your beer open, sitting down on an open log next to Eddie and looking anywhere but at your friends, willing your embarrassment not to consume you.

“It was a long walk to the car,” Eddie says with a shrug, tossing his arm back around your shoulders and taking a sip of his own beer.

“Yeah and an even longer couple orgasms,” Steve says with a cheshire grin. Robin slaps his forehead lightly and he flinches. “What? Those sounds were spread out. What’d you do, fuck in the forest and then fuck in your van with the doors open?”

You know his loose lips are a product of his high but you gape at Steve’s forwardness, unable to respond. Eddie doesn’t have the same problem. He laughs and shrugs again.

“Well actually we - ,” but he doesn’t get a chance to finish because you immediately slap your hand over his mouth.

“Say another word, Eddie Munson, and I’ll hurt you in a way you won’t find hot.”

“Ooo, kinky,” Robin pipes up, wiggling her eyebrows. She and Steve dissolve into a fit of giggles that builds and builds until all four of you are practically rolling around laughing on the forest floor. The sounds of your mirth definitely scaring away any creeping and crawling creatures who could have considered your little campsite.

Because all four of you are the things that go bump in the night.

~*~

Taglist: @sacklerscumrag @millenialcatlady @theoncrayjoy @cowboy-kylo

@copycatkillerfics @boomhauer @boostilinski @wroteclassicaly @eddiesprincess86 @bambigoth-sims @chaoschaoswriting @lassie-bird @softpshycopath @katsukis1wife @spookyreidd

#Eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson one shot #Eddie Munson discourse #Stranger Things smut #fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

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male-reader-haven · 1 year

Text

˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎A Hefty Resolution♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗

Holiday week day 7 (Happy February lmao)

You and your boyfriend work on your new year's resolution together, starting it off with spoiling the hell out of your good boy~ <3

First JK fic, though I have a ton of plans for him!!! Sorry the smut on this one is a bit shorter than last few ones, but I really enjoyed the concept!

Tags: sub Jungkook x dom reader (male implied), praise and reward, needy Jungkook (yes please)

Warnings: 18+, slight sweat+scent kink, praise and reward, blowjob, short and sweet

"Babe, get up, you promised." You tug at your boyfriend's long, wavy black hair. "Come on Gugkie."

"Mmmf!" A sassy groan meets you, and Jungkook turns over stubbornly, pulling the sheets over his head. You smile at his adorable antics and lean down to kiss his cheek lightly.

"Heeey sleepy." You swoon, a gentler approach since he seems tired.

"What.... time is it?..." Jungkook asks under his breath and squints his eyes. You sit up from the bed as you respond.

"It's eight." You pull off your shirt and throw it in the laundry basket, then go to the dresser to search for a t-shirt. "Remember our new year's resolution?"

Jungkook finally sits up in bed and yawns, stretching his arms up and scrunching his face. He sits there blinking for a moment then shakes his head and arms as a way to loosen up.

"Yeah, of course!" He nods his head, watching you change with sleepy, yet intrigued eyes. "But um, can you remind me... what it was?"

You can't help but giggle as you pull a white t-shirt over your head. You turn around and face Jungkook, putting your hands on your hips.

"We are going to go work out, baby. 30 minutes, every weekday morning."

"Ah, right! I knew that! I was just... testing you." He smiles a bright goofy smile, squinting his eyes as he does so. God, you love him. You make your way over to the bed to cup his face in your hands and kiss his forehead.

"Come on and get dressed, I'll be waiting downstairs."

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

You are sat on the cold mat floor in your home gym waiting for Jungkook to come down. The both of you were already fairly active, hence all the home gym equipment and furnished room in the basement, but because of your schedules you rarely had a consistent workout routine or schedule, so at New Years, you had both agreed to make an effort to have a routine and to follow it together. Plus, working out is always more fun with others, and tends to be more effective as well. You scroll in your phone checking Instagram and other apps when the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs causes you to look up. Jungkook descends, wearing black gym shorts and a tank top, holding a water bottle in his left hand and his phone in his right with a white towel over his shoulder. You rise from your squatting position and walk over to him.

"Feeling any better now that we're awake, bunny?" You tease.

"Yeah yeah, just a bit sleepy. Do we have to do this in the mornings?" He whines, tilting his head and sighing exaggeratedly. "I didn't even have time to... fix myself..." His eyes flutter to the ground and his cheeks flash pink.

"Awe, does my baby still have his morning wood?" You smirk and rub his shoulders.

"Y/N, don't tease me! It's your fault anyways, running around in my dreams all night..." He smiles and caresses your hips.

"Hmmmmm, I have an idea." You hum as you kiss Jungkook's neck.

"For some reason that terrifies me." Still smiling, he looks at you quizically.

"How about some... motivation?" You look into his eyes with a steely expression and your hand wanders to just barely touch where Jungkook is slightly stiff in his shorts. His eyes widen.

"Okay, i'm listening." The corners of his mouth turn in a slight grin and he leans in closer to your lips, just thinking about what you have planned. You pull away from him leaving him noticeably disappointed, and you turn to the open notebook setting on the table.

"Workout first, fuck later." You beckon for him to come over. He hangs his head and sighs exasperatedly.

"Okayyyyy, fine. But just so you know, I will be staring at you and undressing you with my eyes the whole time." Jungkook plants a kiss on your cheek and turns to the barbell rack to begin his sets.

"Ah huh. In that case no need for this then." You take your shirt off and hang it on the back of a chair.

"You cheeky, sexy bastard." He grins and starts his sets as you spot him.

As the two of you spend the next few minutes swapping turns spotting for the other, you begin to realize that you enjoy working out together more than alone. Maybe it's the closeness of the both of you, or maybe its the way he bites his lip and breathes when he pumps a bicep curl, but you can swear he gets more beautiful every time you look at him. And you want him right here and right now.

"All right, I think that's enough. Put those away." You move towards Jungkook, reaching for his dumbbells.

"Ah, but I didn't get to finish-" He starts, confused, until you silence him by planting your lips on his. He eagerly reciprocates, following your movements and moaning into the kiss. You break momentarily just to allow room as you lift his sweaty tank top over his head and throw it to the floor. Jungkook's hands move across your glistening chest and trace your abs as your hands move to his slim waist and pull him closer to you. He whimpers as you bite his lower lip and continue to feel all over him, feeling his breath quicken and causing him to subconsciously grind against you. Your hands trail down his stomach as you descend, now on your knees facing him.

"You did so good, let me reward you baby." You let your fingers slide under the band of his boxers and tug slightly, waiting for his eager nod before pulling down both his shorts and underwear enough so you can get a good look at him. He bounces free, already semi-hard from watching you work out and your makeout session. You look up at his doe eyes and smirk. "Already so hard for me, so sensitive..."

Jungkook gulps and looks down at you.

"P-please Y/N, you tease me too much..."

"Of course, I can't help it Gugkie, you're too cute." You can't wait any longer. You hear him inhale sharply as you lick around his base, taking in his scent and salty taste. Jungkook leans his head back and his hands comb his own hair, desperate for something to hold on to, before landing on the pullup bar in front of the both of you. He grips the bar, leaving his chiseled chest stretched and open for you to admire as you continue licking up and down his long shaft.

"Ah, Y/N- hmm!" He squints and sucks in air through his teeth. The way he can't stop some part of him from moving as you pleasure him encourages you to keep it up, feeling the texture of his skin and veins with your tongue. His dick twitches in anticipation.

"So beautiful, can't resist you baby. So good for me, aren't you?" You coo in a deep, lust-filled voice.

"Uh- uh huh! Mmm-!" His voice wavers, barely a response. You take your hand and gently wrap your fingers around his base.

"I didn't quiet hear you, bunny. Are you my good boy or not?"

"Y-yes, i'm a good boy, yours!" He melts at your touch and words. You love seeing your baby needy for your touch.

"That's right, you're so good, so beautiful baby." You pump his dick a few times with your hand before putting his swollen tip in your mouth.

"Hnnn!" His voice cracks in a high pitched squeak, and his cheeks flush red in a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. You work your tongue while you slightly bob your head around the top of him as your hands work his base. The sinful sounds of your actions fill the room, beautiful when paired with Jungkook's panting and whiny moans. His mouth agape and eyes fluttering closed, he gets into it, hips moving with your mouth rhythmically and unconsciously. You love how he looks when lost in his own pleasure, and you feel a sense of pride that you are the one to make him feel like this. You want to spoil him like the good boy he is.

"Mmm Y/N, y-your mouth is s-so, you're g-gonna m-make me come!"

You take him out of your mouth with a pop and lick your lips, then start pumping him with your hands faster than before.

"It's okay baby, my baby deserves to come. You're so good, Gugkie, so beautiful. My beautiful boy."

"Hnnng, ohhh hyung, Y/N, feels so goood, ah!" His body moves with you, simply following his natural desire for pleasure. You simply can't get enough of his wavering voice and needy moans. As for Jungkook, he can hardly take it anymore with the way you suck him off.

"Aah, aah, hnngck-!" His voice peaks and his head flies back as he paints the back of your throat. You suck and lick, not letting a single drop of his orgasm go to waste. His body trembles, and he hangs his head, panting. You stand up to meet his dazed face and kiss him, running your hands through his damp hair while your other hand gently massages his still twitching, sensitive cock.

"You did so good, so good for me bunny..." You breathe the words into his agape mouth between kisses. Still gasping and squinting, Jungkook moves his arms from above him to around your neck, letting you lead.

"I... love... what you do to me Y/N..." He breathes the words, incapable of forming a straight sentence while he chases your lips.

There really are no downsides to this resolution of yours.

Send me suggestions on what to write next! ~ <3

----Masterlist----

#im a sucker for needy jk #bts x male reader #bts x reader #bts x male #bts jk #jungkook x male reader #jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fanfiction #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x male reader

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senp1i · 10 months

Note

Hey it’s my birthday tomorrow so I wanted to request a yunjin from le sserafim x male reader smut where it’s readers birthday they wake up and have morning sex then she cooks breakfast for him in his shirt then they have a party and after everyone leaves they have sex

a/n: firstly happy birthday, hope you have a great year ahead secondly sorry man, my keyboard literally dipped while I was writing your req, I’ll try my best to finish the rest and post it within a few days as soon as I get my hands on my new keyboard, it’s a whole thing and the delivery process is crap, sadly I can’t write stories on my phone, the iphone x keyboard will take hours for me to even get 500 words in. Again sorry and happy birthday. Hope you like it, if not then lmk, I’ll try to rewrite it from the get go.

Yunjin slowly opened her eyes as the morning sunlight filtered through the bedroom window. She turned to look at Y/N still sleeping peacefully beside her. *He looks so handsome even when he's asleep.* She thought to herself as she watched him sleep.

She propped herself up on one elbow and gazed lovingly at his face, reaching out to gently brush aside a lock of hair that had fallen over his eyes. Leaning in, she placed a soft kiss on his forehead. "Happy birthday, my love," she whispered tenderly.

Y/N stirred slightly at her touch but didn't wake. Yunjin smiled to herself. *I have the perfect gift to wake him up* She murmured to herself. Her hand traveled slowly down his bare chest, coming to rest on the waistband of his pajama pants. Sliding her hand beneath the pant, she gently wrapped her fingers around his growing morning wood. Y/N sighed contentedly in his sleep as she began to slowly stroke him.

After a few moments, Y/N's breathing quickened and his eyes fluttered open to meet Yunjin's gaze. "Good morning," she said with a mischievous smile. "Did you sleep well?" Without waiting for an answer, she lowered her head and took him fully into her warm, wet mouth. Y/N groaned at the sudden heat, having yet to fully come out of his sleepy state, yet his hands instinctively came to rest on the back of Yunjin's head. She set a steady rhythm, hollowing her cheeks with each bob of her head.

Y/N's fingers tangled in Yunjin's hair as pleasure coursed through his body. "Jen..." he moaned, his hips starting to jerk in time with her bobbing. The sound of her name on his lips only urged Yunjin on further. She swirled her tongue around his tip before taking him deep into her throat. Y/N cried out, unable to hold back any longer. With a few more hard sucks, he found his release, spilling himself down Yunjin's throat.

She swallowed every last drop, then kissed her way back up his body until her lips met his. Y/N kissed her deeply, tasting himself on her tongue. "That was...- well quite an epic way to wake up," he breathed, caressing her cheek. "But now it's your turn." Yunjin gasped in surprise as Y/N suddenly flipped her onto her back, his hands making quick work of her shorts, the oversized shirt she had on of Y/N rose higher on her torso, showing her midriff. She parted her legs willingly as his mouth lowered to her dripping folds.

Y/N feasted on her like a man starving, his tongue moving in and out, almost in an in-human pace between her slick folds. Yunjin cried out, her hands grasping at the sheets as waves of pleasure washed over her. Two of his fingers joined his tongue, pumping in and out of her tight cave. "Y/N..fuck... don't stop..." she moaned, her hips grinding against his face. The familiar pool of heat was building quickly in her abdomen. When Y/N curled his fingers to hit the sweet spot of her, she fell apart, her walls clenching around him as she peaked harder than ever before. Y/N continued as she came prolonging it, but soon even his fingers couldn't keep up.

Y/N kissed his way back up her heaving torso, kissing the part where the shirt hiked up, then her neck, to finally capturing her lips in a searing kiss. "Happy birthday to me," he said grinning, nuzzling her neck. Yunjin laughed breathlessly, holding him close. "I love you," she whispered, running her fingers through his hair. "I love you too," Y/N replied, his eyes filled with warmth. "Now, how about some breakfast in bed to celebrate?"

Yunjin shaked her head and gazed fondly at Y/N, caressing his cheek. "Let's make this birthday truly memorable first and then breakfast," she said with a playful glint in her eyes.

Sliding her hand down his chiseled upper body, she gripped his growing dick again, firmly. Y/N inhaled sharply at her touch, desire swirling in his eyes.

In a swift motion, Yunjin flipped him onto his back and straddled him, throwing the overasized shirt somewhere in the room, as she began grinding her wet folds against his length. Coating it with her nectar and mixing the previous saliva, Y/N gripped her waist tightly, gazing up at her with complete want.

Leaning down, with her hands on this chest nails slighting digging, Yunjin whispered huskily in his ear - "I'm going to ride you so hard, you'll feel me for weeks." Without waiting for a response, she reached behind and firmly impaled herself on his throbbing cock in one smooth stroke.

Throwing her head back in pleasure, Yunjin began moving her hips in figure eights, riding him relentlessly. Y/N grasped her bouncing breasts, pinching her hard nipples between his fingers. "Fuck Yunjin, slow down" Y/N said in between his sharp breath intakes, still sensitive from the blowjob she gave him.

Yunjin reached down to massage her swollen clit, sending even more pleasure to course through her body. Y/N gripped her hips tightly, meeting her movements with hard, deep strokes of his own.

The bed creaked violently with their movements, sounding as though it'll break any second. Skin slapped against skin, mingling with their constant moans , groans and sighs.

Yunjin felt his cock throbbing and twitching wildly inside her as he got close to cumming. With a few final hard rolls of her hips, her walls clenched tightly around him, milking his orgasm from him.

Y/N released inside her with a raspy groan, his fingers digging almost painfully into her hips, leaving crescents and deep marks of his hands. Spent and tired, Yunjin collapsed onto his heaving chest, kissing him deeply. "Happy birthday, baby."

a/n; would appreciate feedback, I don’t really know Yunjin, or how she talks/behaves all that well so it may not be accurate but also feedback on the writing would be heavily appreciated since this is my second smut lol.

Next part; https://www.tumblr.com/t4ke-1/725622457426460672/birthday-continuation?source=share

#huh yunjin x reader #lesserafim smut #lesserafim x reader #huh yunjin smut #yunjin x reader #yunjin smut #yunjin scenarios #lesserafim scenarios #kpop x reader #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #reader insert #idol x male reader #idol x reader

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ohnococo · 5 months

Text

Gratitude | Chapter 4 | Kiyotaka Ijichi x F!Reader

“I love what you do with your hands… I love what you do with your mouth. You know how to satisfy me. I just want you to feel your cock inside me tonight. That’s all.” You rest your head back down onto the bed and look into his eyes. “I’m not putting any expectations on tonight other than having you close to me, okay?” He takes a deep breath in, and when he exhales his shoulders rest a little lower, his head a little higher, and it’s as if he’s chosen to breathe out any little worries even he was unaware of. He nods and smiles, “Okay.”

Warnings: fem!bodied reader, light dom/sub undertones, vaginal sex, creampie, cockwarming, ijichi cums fast as usual, subby ijichi, the L word.

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

Your plans had been ruined yet again, this time not from just how busy you two were. No, this time it was a snowstorm messing up your carefully planned time with Ijichi. Ijichi had been so excited about your hike together, so excited to share his hobby with you, so excited that you even cared about it.

He was cute when he was like that, explaining details and intricacies of things that seemed to be his specialty. He’d even gone with you to buy new gear, giving recommendations on clothes that would be appropriate for a winter hike in the great outdoors.

Snow, he’d explained, wasn’t a problem. It was great, in fact. He’d even showed you his heating packs and hand warmers, assuring you that he’d make sure to keep the chill off of you. What was a problem was the biggest snowstorm you’d seen in years, so bad that your area was being advised to not even leave your homes, nevermind trek through the woods looking for cute little deer and picturesque views.

As disappointed as you both were, it wasn’t a total waste. You still had your time to yourselves, and you still had it together, you were just trapped in your own home.

It was nice being stuck with him, though. It was as if the weather had pushed the two of you right into playing house. All your time was spent together suddenly and everything had seemed to just fit. Cleaning up together every night, watching Ijichi cook for you, cuddling on the couch, seeing just how many times you could make each other cum in one day.

He’d been so happy, so relaxed. It was what you had wanted for him all along. So, you decide that it’s time to broach the subject he’d made clear he was nervous about in the past. The thing that seemed to be a final hurdle in his mind.

He’s washing dishes, insistent that you sit and relax since you’d been the one to cook tonight. You come up behind him, placing your hands on his hips and nuzzling at his neck. He’s melting into your touch already, quick to get distracted by you. A few well placed kisses along the side of his neck and he’s squeezing the water out of the sponge, grip tightened as you slide your hand down his stomach.

“Thank you for washing the dishes for me.”

“I’m happy to do it.” He sets a plate onto the drainer, shaking his hands off over the sink, not wanting to move away from your touch to dry them properly on the hand towel.

“And thank you for making being trapped at home so nice.”

Your fingers are so tempted to move downward, to pull his cock out and jerk him off right there over the sink as you’d already made a point of doing a few times before, but you want him relatively clear-headed for the next question.

“I want you to do something for me.”

He puts a still slightly wet hand over where yours rests on his stomach and speaks to you softly, “Anything.”

“Can I have your cock inside me?”

You feel his fingers twitch over yours, a soft stutter of an ’ah’ escapes his lips and you can’t help wishing you could see his expression as he thinks, processes, decides. You’re satisfied with pressing your face to his shoulder, knowing that even if you can’t see his thoughts laid bare on his face, his words will do.

He turns around slowly in your arms to face you, holding your face in his hands, pressing one of his soft, but bordering on desperate kisses to your lips. He pulls back and smiles and nods. In case the kiss and the gesture aren’t answer enough, he kisses you again, deepening it with barely parted lips and the soft brush of the tip of his tongue against yours. If even that weren’t indicative enough of his agreement he tells you outright, cock already stiffening against you, “Yes, please.”

He’s accepted so graciously, and you’re the one who has to calm themselves first as you reach your bedroom and undress each other slowly. He’s doing so well, open and present and sure of himself, sure of the two of you.

Once he’s on top of you, having made you cum on his fingers once already - kissing you, holding you, panting and whining against your neck as the muscles in his wiry arms flex while he brings you to climax - you make sure his eyes are on yours as you line him up with your entrance.

“Look at me, Kiyo.”

He does, feeling safe and secure as he hovers over you, surrounding you with his arms on either side of your head and propped up on his elbows. You’re surrounding him too, his hips gripped firmly between your thighs.

You lean up and press kisses across his face between each statement you speak:

“I love what you do with your hands… I love what you do with your mouth. You know how to satisfy me. I just want you to feel your cock inside me tonight. That’s all.”

You rest your head back down onto the bed and look into his eyes.

“I’m not putting any expectations on tonight other than having you close to me, okay?”

He takes a deep breath in, and when he exhales his shoulders rest a little lower, his head a little higher, and it’s as if he’s chosen to breathe out any little worries even he was unaware of. He nods and smiles, “Okay.”

As you slide his tip through your wetness, you take in his expression: excited, happy, smile lopsided and wide, eyes half open and glassy. He looks absolutely enamoured. You only hope your face reflects the same as you press the head of his cock at your entrance, wrapping your legs around him tighter to pull him into you.

He slides in so, so slowly, eyes rolling and moans spilling out just from his sensitive tip being swallowed up by you. As he pushes his hips further the moans get breathier and deeper down into his chest until he’s fully buried in your heat. His stomach tenses and he groans, pressing into you as though desperate to be deeper than was possible for him. You run your hands up and down his back, sending shivers through his whole body.

“You feel so good, Kiyotaka… your pretty cock fits me so well.”

His eyes are locked on yours, and you see that worry bubbling up just behind the lovesick look he was pouring straight into you. His cock is throbbing already, his thighs tensing now too, brows furrowing.

“I’m sorry…” he’s pre-emptively apologising, but you let him know he doesn’t have to.

“For what? I want your cum inside me, whenever you’re ready.”

He groans, and he’s already struggling above you, putting his all into holding out for your word. You take his face in both hands, ready to give it.

“Go on, cum for me.”

It’s immediate, his orgasm ripping through him, shaking his body as he drops his head low and buries his face in your chest. His thrusts are sudden, deep, sloppy and he whines with every wave of hot cum he fills you with.

Through it all you have your arms wrapped around him kissing his forehead, the top of his head, whatever you can reach, chanting out a soft, “Good boy… my good, good boy.”

He rests his head on your chest, shivering as you run your fingers through his hair, pressing into you again though he was already as deep as he could go. He kisses your chest, panting against your breasts, and begins to pull out, but you wrap your legs around him again, heels firm against his ass as he raises his head to look at you curiously.

“Stay inside.” His brows raise, blush coming to his face as the sentiment has his heart racing already, “You just feel so nice. We can keep each other warm.”

He does just that, resting his chin on your chest, looking up at you with happy, calm eyes. You run your fingers over his shoulders, smiling as little shivers continue to run through him when your touch gets too light.

“The weather is supposed to calm down next week.”

He nods, and even though he offers nothing in response you know he’s hanging onto your every word.

“We should go on that hike together then, don’t you think?”

He perks up a bit at that, the prospect of you joining him for his favourite hobby distracting him from the warmth he was buried in. His voice is so smooth and calm when he talks about the things he loves that it gives you butterflies. “That would be great. It’ll be quiet then, you can always hear the birds so well once the worst of the snow has passed.”

His smile widens, and you imagine how cute he’ll look with his binoculars, listing off birds in the surrounding trees. You’d been unsure about the whole thing initially, but now you couldn’t wait.

“As long as you don’t let me fall in some icy creek.”

He lifts his head a little, looking very serious, “Of course not, the trail doesn’t have any tough crossings, I made sure to double check. It’s perfect for your first time.”

You chuckle, and the way it makes you squeeze at his cock gently has him shivering again. “Thank you Ijichi.” This time, your pussy clenching at his softened cock inside of you is intentional. “You always look out for me… you’re so sweet.”

He’s hardening inside of you now, slowly, and you push him a little further.

“Are you happy, Ijichi?”

His smile spreads til his nose is crinkling slightly and he just has to close his eyes, looking like a cat basking in the sun. “Yes, I’m so happy.”

“Me too. You make me so happy, you know.”

“I do?”

There it is, his little way of asking you to keep going, even though he knew by now that you always would.

“Yes, you’re always so good to me.” His eyelids get heavy as his cheeks flush, cock fully hard inside of you now, and it twitches with your next words. “Always my good boy.”

He nuzzles into your chest, and you swear you can see his gears turning, even with his face buried. When he lifts his head, he looks up at you sheepishly, a coy smile on his lips as he is sure he knows the answer to this question. “Can we go again?”

You nod, and he pushes himself up onto his forearms, beginning to give you slow thrusts, barely pulling out before he’s pushing back in and groaning as he bottoms out. After a few moments of this, with your breaths getting louder, soft moans slipping out to join his louder ones, his thrusts get a little harder. He pulls out a little more each time, cock rubbing just so on the sensitive spot inside of you. His eyes are locked onto yours once more, lost in your gaze, and you see him fighting to form his thoughts into words.

“I think I can go longer this time.”

“You don’t have to.” You mean it, otherwise you wouldn’t lean up, beginning to press wet kisses into his neck.

He shudders, rhythm thrown off immediately, “N-not if you do that…”

Those words aren’t enough to stop you, as you suck on the spot that always leaves him whining, right by his Adam’s apple. It has him breathless, thrusts getting quicker in the moments before he regains control and slows them down again, falling back into that pace that had you moaning beneath him.

“Please, you’ll make me cum again.”

“I want your cum though, Kiyotaka.” He whines at that, loud and desperate, and you feel his cock throbbing already. “Want it deep inside me.”

That’s all it takes, and he’s thrusting fast for only a few seconds, whining and panting, before he’s spilling inside you yet again.

“Sorry…”

He’s apologising again, though you don’t know if it’s for cumming fast, or cumming at all since you hadn’t explicitly given him permission. You don’t want him apologising at all, and let him know as much in the uncertain terms Ijichi always needed.

“You don’t need my permission tonight, cum as soon as you feel like it.”

He looks at you, brows up, face asking the questions he was still catching his breath before he could form into words. What about you?

“I love it.” You kiss his forehead as he slides his arms underneath your shoulders, holding you close. “I love your cock, I love your cum, I love all of it.”

He looks at your eyes, then your lips, then back up to your eyes - thinking, and thinking, and thinking again. Then, quicker than the last time, you feel his cock hardening inside of you. Throbbing, almost, as he keeps moving his eyes over your face, redness spreading across his cheeks, followed by wetness gathering just at his thick lashes. You frown, pressing a hand to his face gently, but before you can parse this change of expression, he’s speaking first.

“I love you.” His tears don’t spill, but you see the intensity of his feelings plastered across his face. Suddenly, he’s thrusting, hard and deep as he can given he’s clutching you so tight his hips can barely separate from yours. It’s more of a rocking motion than anything, and you wrap your arms around him just as tightly. He repeats himself, breathy, lost in you, “I love you.”

There’s not even a chance for you to respond, with his lips coming down on yours, his kisses surprisingly chaste considering he was digging deeper than you’d expected of him, thrusting with a fervour spurred on entirely by his emotion.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” It’s barely intelligible, since he doesn’t bother to stop his tongue from sliding against yours as he repeats it. You rock your hips against his, matching his desperation and earning some friction on your clit.

Your moans are music to his ears, and he can’t help letting ones of his own out as if in direct response to you, loud and broken. He’s close, so very close, but so are you and seeing you like this only makes it harder for him. Urgency flashes in his eyes as he separates your bodies only enough to slide his hand between you, fingers nimble on your clit as another word joins his endless proclamation. “Please, please, I love you, please.”

It’s there, just under the surface, threatening to undo you with your sweet Ijichi begging you to cum with him, but he’s that little bit faster. The warmth of his cum hits you first, and though it takes all of his composure, he keeps his movements steady until you’re cumming just moments after him, clenching his cock hard enough to have his cum forcing its way out around him.

As your orgasm wanes, he’s buried his face in your neck, still thrusting sloppily and swiping at your clit even as he twitches and whines at the overstimulation it was causing him already.

“Ijichi…” you’re back to running your fingers through his hair, warning him to stop before you’re pushed into that jarring sensitivity as well. He does, moving his hand from between you, collapsing into you fully as you hold him tight.

You let the moment settle, letting him catch his breath, before you respond as well with a kiss to the top of his head and a whisper along his skin. “I love you too.”

It might have felt too fast if he’d said it any other time, but like this, it doesn’t. It just fits with you taking it easy, living for only the two of you in your house, close as could be. It’s perfect. It keeps being perfect every time you chat about your upcoming plans with his softened cock still inside of you. Talking about how work would go, everything that would happen after the coming days all while he kept peppering it into the conversation just to have said it again, just to hear it back.

It keeps being perfect as Ijichi reiterates it every time he hardens again inside of you.

Even as he sits up, and from all the sweat it’s like peeling your bodies apart for the first time. His hands are gripping at your stomach, fingers digging in as he gives you his hardest thrusts yet. He sounds like he can’t breathe, like your pussy is hot enough to make him pass out even though he’s been settled inside of you for hours at this point. He’s gotten a second wind though, reaching deep and this time, you’re teetering on the edge even as he is unwavering above you.

The heat in your core is blinding, joining with a weight in your chest as you try your best, even in the throes of your orgasm, to watch him in all of his unbridled glory above you. Ijichi mouths the same sentiment that is burned onto your lips at this point, unable to control his breathing enough to form them into words.

I love you.

#reminder minors and ageless blogs get blocked #my writing #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #ijichi #kiyotaka ijichi x reader #ijichi x reader

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mellowswriting · 1 year

Text

domestic life with din

pairing || Din Djarin x f!Reader

word count || 2.2k (OOF)

summary || ever wonder what domestic life would look like with Din?

content || SMUT, soft and sweet sex, dorks in love, DOMESTIC FLUFF to the extreme

a/n || this started as a headcanon and very quickly spiraled out of control 🤠 which is why this is a very informal format (unusual for me tbh) but still great imo

Din Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Domestic life has been kind to Din.

A year has passed since the two of you settled in the cozy Tudor-style home nestled away in the woods, and a lot has changed. Without the constant commotion of bounty hunting, Din can finally explore that softness he has hidden away beneath his rough exterior. It takes a bit of time for his mind to adjust to the sharp shift in lifestyle.

For a while, he still slept like he was on a cramped ship instead of a huge bed - body rigid, laid out in a straight line on his back, dressed in less than comfortable clothes. He couldn’t sleep more than five hours a night no matter how hard he tried. A blaster was always within reach. The back of his neck would prickle with apprehension at every creak of the house settling. The whole thing was just so abnormal to him.

He looks to you for guidance. Din watches the way you wander through the house, barefoot with your robe tied loosely around your waist. A book hangs loosely from your fingers and a mug of coffee is in the other, and you pace absentmindedly as you read. Your hair is still messy from sleep and one leg of your lounge pants is rucked up over your calf - and he swears you have never looked more beautiful. Seeing you so in your element helps you find his.

You’re so comfortable in your own skin, in this space - he can’t help but want the same. He carefully edges out of his comfort zone. New, comfortable clothes. The trial and error of learning to cook real food. The warmth of alcohol singing in his veins as the two of you sip wine in the middle of a sunny afternoon. Consuming entire books in mere hours. Slowly but surely, Din learns who he is as a man and a husband - not just a bounty hunter.

Mornings are his favorite, which he never expected. Keeping a typical sleep schedule was damn near impossible before and he relishes in the structure of it. Din rises at the same time each morning and takes a moment to savor the sight of you still asleep next to him. Glowing in the few streams of sunlight that peek through the curtains, a bit of drool gathered in the corner of your mouth. His beautiful wife, absolutely dead to the world. Din kisses your forehead, tugs the blankets up to keep you warm, and slips off into the kitchen to make some coffee and breakfast.

Din’s love for cooking hit him hard and fast. Was he good at it at first? No, absolutely not. The windows have been left open many times to clear out the smoke from meals gone wrong. But Din is nothing if not a strategist. He learns from his mistakes and soon, he’s plating meals like a pro. It doesn’t matter if you don’t know how to cook or don’t like to, because he is more than happy to do the lion’s share of the cooking. He loves it when you sit on the counter and chat with him, a glass of wine in hand.

If you want to help, though? Expect excitement in those pretty brown eyes. Quality time spent together in the kitchen is something he can’t get enough of. He’s the type to come up behind you and help guide your hands. His chin resting on your shoulder, chest pressed against your back. It’s so hard to focus with him so close, his low voice rumbling in your ear as he instructs you, but your husband is patient. And maybe, just maybe, he likes the attention. He likes watching your hands falter as he presses a kiss to your shoulder. He likes hearing your stuttered exhale as you shake your head and try to focus on the task in front of you. He likes how you whisper his name like a warning, one he never heeds.

Din likes waking you every morning. He starts out soft and sweet. Gentle brushes of his fingers, calling your name in a low voice. Usually it’s enough to get you up and going, but you can be stubborn sometimes. That’s when Din pulls out the big guns and tugs the blankets back entirely to expose you to the cool air. He ignores your indignant pleas and climbs into bed to hover over you. You look so cute, blinking up at him with those sleepy eyes and begging for “just a few more minutes”.

“But I made breakfast.” Din murmurs. He kisses down the line of your throat, along your collarbone - a surefire way to wake you up completely. You make that soft sound low in your throat and Din smiles into your skin. His tongue flicks out to trace your heartbeat and your fingers tangle in his hair to tug him up into a real kiss.

“You’re a menace, Mr. Djarin.” You whisper against his lips.

“And you love it, Mrs. Djarin.” He whispers right back. All you do is roll your eyes and drag him in for a slow, deep kiss. It’s easy to get lost in the softness of your lips, the happy little sounds you make.

“Mm, your scruff is perfect.” You rub your cheek against his like a content loth cat, all but purring as you love on him.

It doesn’t take long to get you out of bed and eating breakfast and fuck, it feels so good to see you content and happily eating the food he made you. He can’t help but feel proud in a very instinctive, deep-rooted way. Providing for you, nourishing your body - he feels like a good husband. The two of you forgo the dining table to relax on the couch. You sit with your legs draped over his lap, squished between his broad body and the arm of the couch. Right where you belong.

Soon the dirty plates are stacked on the coffee table and you’re snuggled into his side as Din watches some soapy holodrama. His newfound love of cooking has given him a bit of softness to his belly that you adore. He’s all well-fed and happy, and you love the way it looks on him. You’re practically glued to him; your head rests on his shoulder, your thigh hitched over his lap, one arm slung over that soft tummy. His fingers trail nonsensical lines into your arm and warmth radiates from his body.

For the thousandth time, you are struck by just how lucky you are. How much you love him. How unbelievable it is that the two of you finally have this life together. You love him so much that you can barely contain it. It swells and bursts in your chest, rushes through your veins like a drug. You shift against him, trying to press impossibly closer, aching to truly feel him. Desire rocks through you - meanwhile, Din is too lost in the action on the holo to notice how needy you’ve become.

“I swear if Rhysa goes back to that asshole after everything he’s done…” Din grumbles, sounding genuinely irritated, but you’re too distracted to do more than hum in response.

Your fingers stroke lower on his belly, through the wispy hairs of his happy trail, and Din makes a pleased sound low in his throat. It isn’t enough. His eyes don’t stray from the screen but that’s okay. You have more than a few tricks up your sleeve to get his attention. You shift your hips until his thigh is pressed between your own and a throb of arousal warms your belly. The slow grinding is nearly imperceptible, especially with his attention so otherwise occupied.

You tilt your head up to kiss his neck, finally eliciting a curious sound from your husband. His hand settles on your waist and squeezes as he gives you a knowing look, mirth glinting in his eyes. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

“Oh, nothing… wouldn’t want to distract you from your show…” You reply as innocently as possible. Your fingers dip beneath the waistband of his lounge pants and the holodrama goes entirely forgotten from that moment on.

It’s all hot and desperate and messy - and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Din guides the rolling of your hips until you’re an absolute mess. You whine into his neck as you grind against him, your hand stroking his cock sloppily beneath his pants. It doesn’t take long for neediness to consume you both. Clothes discarded on the floor, your knees pressed into the cushions - you take him right there on the couch. Messy kisses, hands in his hair. Mumbling that he’s such a good man, such a good husband - and Din loses it.

His fingertips dig into your waist as he rocks his hips up to meet yours. He can barely complete a sentence, broken praise falling from his lips with every exhale. You’re ethereal above him - your head tipped back to expose the long line of your throat, sweet sounds of pleasure falling from your lips, the bounce of your breasts mere inches from his face. Everything about you overwhelms his senses and he wouldn’t have it any other way. His hand covers yours where it’s braced against his chest and twines your fingers together.

“Let me,” Din whispers as he draws your hand up to his lips to kiss your palm. “Please.”

He pleads so reverently, breathless in his devotion - and you can't say no to him. Not when he aches so deeply to worship at the altar of your body. The moment you give him that sweet fuck yes, Din drags you down onto the soft carpet. You find yourself on your back, a pillow tucked carefully beneath your head and your husband kneeling between your thighs. His hair has grown out the last few months and those dark curls are the perfect place to bury your fingers as he fucks you the way you deserve to be fucked.

His beautiful, perfect wife. You absolutely amaze him and he needs to show you just how much he loves you. Din angles his hips just right and you cry his name like it’s a prayer, supplicating yourself before him with every quiver of your cunt around his cock. It’s almost too good to be real. Fuck, he can barely believe this is his life - that he gets to fuck his wife right in the living room of his home without a care in the damn universe. He’ll be damned if he doesn’t enjoy it to the fullest.

Every long, deliberate stroke makes you choke on your breath. Leave it to your husband to fuck you so thoroughly that you’re devastated within ten minutes. An orgasm already hovers in the peripheral. The stretch of taking him is almost too much to bear and each throb of his cock makes you shiver. Your nails bite into the back of his neck as his thumb brushes your clit and honeyed praise falls from his lips. Din leans close, that deliciously deep voice low in your ear as he murmurs, “That’s it… come for me, sweetheart.”

An order, one rumbled in that commanding tone that you have never been able to refuse. The pressure tightens and bursts in your belly, soaks into your very soul until you’re left trembling beneath him on the floor. You babble nearly indecipherable praise at him as he fucks you through it, buries himself so deep that he grinds against the seal of your womb. Tears prick your eyes as he follows you over the edge, the hot pulse of your cunt dragging him into a devastating orgasm.

It takes a lot of control for him not to sink his weight into you like he usually does. Even though he bought and installed this carpet for the express reason of it being soft enough to fuck you on, the floor isn’t quite comfortable enough for him to squish you like he prefers to. With a put-upon sigh, he opts to roll onto his back to catch his breath. You cast a glance over at him and the moment you lock eyes, you let out a dazed giggle that is painfully irresistible.

“You are ridiculous, you know that?” Din shakes his head with faux exasperation but there’s no fighting the grin on his face.

“Well, you’re the one who married me…” You shrug.

“Best decision of my life.” He reaches out to caress your cheek, affection warm in those brown eyes you love. You lean into his palm and kiss the soft skin of his wrist.

“You’re a sap.” You sigh before tossing your arm over your eyes to block out the late morning sunlight. Din props himself up on his elbow to take in the sight of you. The slow rise and fall of your chest as your breathing returns to normal. The flick of your tongue wetting your lips. The sweat drying on your skin. This… this is all he ever needs in this life.

There’s no life or death, no violence, no endless traveling. Just you and him in the life you’ve built together.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin headcanon #din djarin x reader smut

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blueywrites · 1 year

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turtle dove and the crow, interlude 1930

A 1940s Farm AU, featuring bsf!neighbor!eddie x fem!reader

story tags: 18+ (minors dni). smut; true love; unexpected pregnancy; angst, angst, angst; parental issues; corporal punishment; scheming, plotting, and betrayal; hurt/comfort; period-typical stigma regarding unwed pregnancy; angst with a happy ending.

Set in 1930 - ten years before the events of Turtle Dove and the Crow - this interlude is the first of two glimpses back to their humble beginnings.

INTERLUDE 1930: MUSIC BOX (5.7k)

There’s a music box in the bedroom

It’s playing songs from 1922

And if you listen for long enough

You’ll fall asleep and might wake up

Walking in a wonderland

Music Box — Leith Ross

Before he was your crow, and you his turtle dove, Edward Munson was the strange new boy next door.

The morning he arrives is colored the clear blue of late May. It’s one of those first few days after school has let out for the year, and you’re stuck half in a daze, acclimating to a sense of freedom that has not yet seeped entirely in. That irreality keeps you inside for now, and thus, you’re perched in the formal sitting room, occupying one of the stiffer chairs chosen for its proximity to the window offering a view of Mr. Wayne’s front porch. Your eyes are fixed not to its neat row of balustrades standing proudly from the white-painted decking, or even the gnarled branches of the forsythia where some yellow petals still cling stubbornly despite the lateness of the season. Instead, you’re looking at the lattice that protects the porch’s underside, at the place where it meets the corner of the house’s red clapboard. The wood there is broken at one criss-cross, leaving a small gap.

From there, a rabbit is slowly emerging. Breath catches in your throat as it shimmies its small russet body from beneath the broken lattice into the open air. Your eyes widen; tiny fingers find the window pane, leaving tiny, heedless smudge marks on the glass. Raptly, you watch its nose wriggle, head dipping to the grass and nudging around before coming up again. It ventures forward with staccato little hops before halting with its head perked high.

You hear what has alerted it a second later: a muffled rumble begins to permeate the glass between you and the rabbit. The sound grows gradually louder, and your eyes dart from the red house to the yard and then to the dirt road beyond, where the source is now visible. It begins as a vague blue shape, sharpening slowly but steadily until it resolves itself, finally, into a familiar truck. The truck putt-putt-putts gradually up the dirt road before turning with a crunch of thick dirt and gravel into the unpaved drive of your neighbor.

The rabbit stretches its neck and freezes warily for a long, tense moment, legs bunched and ready to flee. Interestingly, though, it never does. Even when a metallic creak draws your attention from the rabbit back to the parked truck, it eases back into the grass, seemingly unbothered now.

This is when you see him for the first time.

It's a silent affair, his arrival, but the new boy next door rolls in with all the beautiful violence of a summer storm. Face wedged between your Mama’s gauze curtains, you watch the passenger door of the truck pop open to allow the chaos inside to tumble out in a whirl of thrashing limbs. And those limbs become a boy. Pale and jagged, thin and angular, he stalks ahead with clenched fists and a strange backward tilt to his upper body— a posture which implies that, while his feet may carry him toward the front door, the rest of him wants nothing more than to rebel. His face, what little you can see of it from this distance, is contorted into a fierce scowl. It cuts pale beneath a wild mop of dark cloudlike curls, slashed by red lips snarled open as if in the middle of a tantrum.

Yet you cannot hear him. Mr. Wayne catches up to him quickly despite the stiffness of his hips; he dwarfs the smaller boy’s roiling shadow, containing his tempestuousness with a hand on his shoulder and guiding him to mount the porch steps before him. You hear the creak of the wood under their feet, and you hear the crack of the screen door as it bounces off red clapboard, and you hear the vague rasp of your older neighbor’s voice before the gentle click of the handle closes the red house up again behind them. But the boy does not make a sound.

Strange.

In your eight-year-old mind, strangeness does not beget caution; it beckons curiosity.

For that reason, Mama doesn’t have to drag you reluctantly with her to deliver a peach pie welcome, though she still plies you with one of her little decorum lessons nonetheless. “It’s the polite thing to do. And never go empty-handed,” she informs you as you slip your hand into the crook of her elbow without resistance, shuffling alongside her across the grass. Together, you mount those same steps you’d watched a summer storm thunder up yesterday; the recollection causes wonderings about the strange boy to whip through your mind like wind touseling your hair. You end up too sluggish for Mama’s taste, and she gestures impatiently for you to knock on the door for her since her hands are occupied. You rush to comply, rapping quickly but for a little too long, so that she has to shoot you a sharp look to get you to stop.

Your curiosity mixes with both wariness and excitement as you hear movement from within the house, and you find it bubbling over as the sounds come imminently closer. Anticipation thrums as the bolt clicks and the knob turns, but when the door finally opens, Mr. Wayne stands there alone.

Your neighbor, Mr. Wayne, has always seemed a calm, steadfast presence to you. It’s a combination of his homely, dirt-dusted clothes, his tanned forearms and weathered knuckles, his thinning hair that leaches color too fast for his age, and his downturned mouth that feels comfortingly familiar but is also a shade less severe than your papa’s. You aren’t unhappy to see him now, but your insides sag as your expectations are thwarted.

Above your head, you watch the adults exchange pleasantries, but the specifics of their conversation are lost on you. You’re consumed by that sagging disappointment; you’d been so sure you’d see your new neighbor standing beside Wayne like you stand with Mama, or perhaps half-hiding behind his legs, had he a shyer disposition. You could forgive that easily. But only a glance is needed to tell you that he’s nowhere in the vicinity of the front door. Perhaps, you suppose, he’s concealed behind a nearby wall to listen without being seen. Or maybe he is loitering at the bend in the staircase, too hesitant to come closer. It’s possible; you begin to hope it is so, and your hope emboldens you.

The pie plate has passed from your mother’s hands into Mr. Wayne’s, but you don’t see that because you’ve begun inching your nose past the threshold of the doorway, craning your neck around Mr. Wayne’s sturdy legs as you search for a peek of that tumultuous boy. You don’t get far before Mama is tugging you back with a sharp yank of your collar, and you stifle a surprised yelp as you yield to her quickly. She clears her throat— a clear chastisement— and as your face creases with remorse, Mr. Wayne huffs with amusement.

“No harm,” he rasps, and your mother’s squeezing fingers drop from your neck upon seeing the easiness in his crinkled blue eyes. “Why don’t you both join me for a slice o’this pie? Looks might fine.”

You brighten visibly, which makes Mr. Wayne chuckle again; when your wide eyes meet your Mama’s, the surge of your excitement is clear, and she is left with no choice but to accept the invitation. Her tiny wry sigh, fond and exasperated, is likely borne of the false assumption that you are excited by the prospect of dessert. That is, in fact, not what has you excited at all.

Your head whips this way and that in search of that elusive boy. You crane and twist, peeking around corners as best as you are able without slowing down as Mr. Wayne guides you toward the dining room. But your seeking yields no results. You plop at the table without having claimed your prize, feet swinging in impatience as a slice of pie is placed in front of you. The large fork is clumsy in your fist, but you manage to eat your desserts with dainty bites that Mama would approve of as she continues to exchange more pleasantries with your neighbor. It doesn’t take long for them to begin discussing the new arrival, and your eyes dart between them intently as you grasp for explanations— who the strange boy is, where he came from, why he wasn’t at the door to greet you, anything to sate the curiosity that has been growing since your first glimpse of the storm.

It quickly becomes clear that there is little for you to glean listening in on this conversation. You grow disinterested with their murmuring, their painstaking way of speaking as if each word must be turned over like fruit to appraise, and each each possible selection must be examined slowly before being settled on. Your disappointment returns with a tinge of frustration as the discussion continues on nonsensically, growing less clear with each successive comment.

“I’d give Joyce and Lonnie a ring,” your Mama suggest to Wayne, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug with a tiny chip along its rim. “Their older boy is goin’ through a spurt, outgrowin’ his clothes quicker than they can keep up with.”

You crinkle up your nose. What does that matter? You can’t understand them, and you give up trying soon enough.

As they continue talking, Mama and Mr. Wayne cast you occasional glances as if they’re assessing whether you will react. But you’re preoccupied now with sweet peach filling and flaky crust, which coats your lips until you rub it off with the back of your arm. Once you’ve consumed the entire slice and licked up all the crumbs, you manage to sit quietly for a minute or so before your curiosity, without that distraction, grows too insistent to ignore. In typical fashion, you’ve just barely conceived of a question before it’s already being voiced.

“Is your son gonna come eat pie with us?” you ask baldly.

Mama stiffens beside you, but Wayne remains unruffled. “He’s my nephew,” he corrects you gently. “And I don’t reckon he will.”

The next question— “Why not?”— is begging to burst from your mouth. But one quick look at your Mama’s face tells you you’d be in for it if you give in to that impulse. Mr. Wayne must read the discomfort in your pouted lips, so he offers you a morsel to tide you over.

“He’s not up for visitors just now,” he explains, and his blue eyes leave you to fix on your Mama’s in a weighty way. “M’tryin’ to get him settled in here first, make sure he’s comfortable. Then y’can meet ‘im, if he’s willing.”

There’s a silent conversation then that passes between their gazes. There is a shade of fear and hesitation in the blue, a hint of vulnerability burdening the short silence following that vague explanation. It’s met with empathy across the table, with tinges of experience and reassurance offered without reluctance.

“You will, Wayne.” Your Mama sounds decisive, and your eyes follow the movement of her hand as she reaches across the table and pats him briskly on the hand. “The boy’ll be fine.”

You are ignorant to the significance of these things. All you know is that you’ve been denied that which you want, and you will need to wait to get it. You manage to contain your frustration until you reach the sanctuary of your bedroom; only then do you let your limbs flail against the comforter and pillows, beating out your impatience like rain pattering a roof.

On the third day after the boy’s arrival, you awaken the way you fell asleep: to the melody of a song. But it’s not the soft plinking of the music box your Mama always winds to lull you to sleep at night. Instead, it’s some twangy, uneven notes, starting and stopping in awkward cadence. As daylight streams in warm stripes across your comforter, they filter through wood and glass to rouse you from your slumber.

It’s the first evidence you have, besides Mr. Wayne’s word during your visit, that your new neighbor is actually still residing in the house across the way and that he was not, in fact, a walking daydream conceived by your own boredom. You haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since he’d tumbled from the truck; you’ve been spending many hours outside now in the midday, and you know beyond a shadow of doubt that he has not ventured into his front yard, and likely not into his backyard either. There has not been even a ruffle of a curtain, or a silhouette in a lit window, or a slivered door opening through which he might peer out to provide evidence of his existence.

But now, you can hear him. You hear him in this indirect way, in the fumbling of his fingers on some instrument, a sound that has you rising early despite the lazy minutes you could steal before Mama expects you to start on your morning chores.

It’s almost worse now that you can hear his invisible presence because it makes the silence of his arrival feel even more frustrating. And the more elusive he is, the more you want to see him. You find yourself looking toward the fence that separates your properties as if compelled; you walk slowly on your way to the goat pen, eyes tracking the gaps between the posts, desperate for a glimpse of dark curls and pale angles. This endeavor has yielded nothing but the vague unease of unfulfilled wanting.

Your curiosity can never settle. It haunts you, sustained by the knowledge that as you close your eyes at night, drifting off to the sound of that dainty music box, you will awaken to a twirling of staccato notes too intangible to grasp.

It isn’t until May has eased into the sticky warmth of June that you properly meet your new neighbor. As you’re cutting through your sitting room, slinking toward the kitchen in search of a covert midday snack, you catch a glimpse of him through the flimsy gauze of that same window which afforded you a view of his arrival. The sight is so unexpected that it nearly gives you a fright, and your heart thuds wildly until you realize what that vague shape must be. You stare until your eyes blink clear and reveal a boy hunched in the front yard across the way, pale and topped by a wild mop of wayward dark. That swooping of fear quickly gives way to familiar curiosity, and curiosity then to eagerness. Soon enough, the slight rumbling of your stomach is forgotten entirely as you find yourself turning sharply on your heel and redirecting toward the front door.

The grass is soft as it creases under your small bare feet, and you cross the yard with your eyes fixed on your prize, who crouches in front of the leafy forsythia lining his front porch. He doesn’t seem to notice you, occupied as he is in his task, and you seize the chance to drink in every detail you can as you approach. The boy wears gray pants, which have been gathered at the hems into thick, sloppy rolls but still drag across the grass like he doesn’t have any feet. He wears a rumpled white shirt, slightly yellowed from age and wear. His curls dust the nape of a gaping collar, which sags even farther open as he leans forward to poke around in the bushes. From this angle you cannot see his face properly, only the slope of a soft nose and the suggestion of dark lashes above it.

Your appraisal ends when you grow too close to continue. You stop a short distance away, looking down at the crown of his head as you watch him push aside branches. This yields a new observation, which is that his hands appear too big for his thin wrists— overlarge, they twist and grasp, long bony fingers moving restlessly as if searching for something in the greenery.

Absent any prior consideration and with the baldness only a child can possess, you announce your presence with a loud question. “What’re you doin'?”

The boy’s short curls flop against his ears as he looks up sharply in your direction, and your directness is rewarded with a view of his face. Though he doesn’t appear to be startled, there is something close to that in his brown eyes— something shifty and skitterish. Under the left is a healing bruise a shade lighter than the streak of dirt on his cheek, and his red mouth is a little too wide for his face, moreso when he opens it to answer you.

“Lookin’ for bugs,” he replies, and his voice rasps like Wayne’s but isn’t as deep, nor as pleasant.

“Why?”

He squints that bruised eye and matches your baldness. “‘Cause I’m makin’ ‘em a home, and I wanna see who’s gonna be movin’ in before I put together the furnishings.”

“Oh.”

As your reply falls flatly into the space between you, the boy eyes you warily for a moment longer before returning to his quest. If he moves a little more brusquely than before, it either escapes your notice or you pay it no mind, and after an extended beat of silence, your next question comes out— again— bald and loud. “So where’s the house?”

The next look he shoots you is less sharp, though somehow also more impatient, with the way his red mouth is set in a long, flat line. “Hmm?”

It’s not so much a hummed question, more a vague grunt, but you interpret it correctly. You repeat yourself with more emphasis. “Where’s the bug house? I wanna see it,” you declare.

The boy’s face scrunches up in a scowl then, and he makes no attempt to sweeten his reply.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” he snaps, and you’re dismissed with a shake of those messy curls.

You fall back on a hip, crossing your arms as he pushes aside forsythia branches with increased aggression. You huff impatiently. “Well, how’s I gonna help you if I don’t know what size bugs to find? I dunno ‘bout where you come from, but there’s lots of bugs here.” Dramatically, you grab onto your fingers one at a time as you count, drawing out the words as you recall them. “We got… worms,” you snatch up your index, “rolly-pollies,” you switch to your middle, “ants…”

You pause there, twisting your ring finger in your opposite fist as you cast your eyes upward, trying to think of another bug to illustrate your point. The boy’s rolled trouser hems drag against the grass as he shifts restlessly in his crouch, but your next example never comes. Instead, you pull your finger out of your grip, crossing your arms and staring down at him with an air of triumph you really aren’t entitled to. “See? Loads of bugs,” you finish almost smugly.

The boy twists his lips and narrows his eyes at you. He drags those eyes from your bare toes to the top of your head in a slow, appraising path. It feels distinctly like you’re one of the bugs you’d mentioned, and he’s trying to puzzle out whether or not you’ll sting him.

You want to ruffle up your feathers and squawk your protest, but this brief conversation has not satisfied that yawning pit of curiosity inside you. Instead, you just plant your hands on your hips like your Mama does when Papa’s not listening fast enough. He stares up at you, and you look right back, staring down at your new neighbor’s guarded face.

This you manage for a fair while. But, inevitably, you cannot contain yourself for too long. Soon enough, your next question of the day sees fit to burst and pop from you like the first bubble in a pot set to boil.

“Well then?”

Your voice is loud; your sass is too potent to ignore. When his scowl returns in earnest, you clamp your lips shut too little too late. Mama always did say you need to be more patient, after all, and now you’ll just be left to mourn the permanent disappointment you’ll feel when he barks back. He’ll send you away unkindly, and you’ll have to retreat with your tail between your legs—

The boy next door straightens to his full height, and it’s only then that you realize just how much bigger he is than you. He is still lanky and angular, with ill-fitting clothes that don’t disguise his thinness, but the sudden shift from looking down into those guarded umber eyes to looking up, up, up ‘til your neck cranes is enough to make a teensy twinge of foreboding tighten in your chest.

This boy, you realize, is under no obligation to tolerate your sass. He isn’t your kin, and though he is Wayne’s, that doesn’t automatically speak to his nature.

Your composure falters for the first time as he frowns harshly down at you, and you begin to shrink. You shink like you do when Mama’s caught you doing something wrong and you know her admonishment will be swiftly followed by Papa’s until you’re left feeling hollow and thoroughly castigated. All of you presses in— your shoulders, your elbows, your knees, your brows where they pucker in the middle of your forehead. It’s the perfect opportunity for this strange boy to seize hold of the cracks within you and shatter you to pieces.

But at the sight of your breaking, those umber eyes do not harden further as you expect. Instead, the stormcloud clears; where you shrink and tighten, he gentles, and the furrows of his face ease into smoothness. Silently, he jerks his head to the side in a clear indication for you to follow.

You do.

It feels like grace when he bids you to follow him, and you resolve not to waste it. ‘Y’could use an attitude adjustment,’ you think to yourself, and so you let your sass leech through the soles of your feet as you follow the boy around to the side of his house opposite yours. By the time he stops in front of a small mound of rubbish piled near the concrete foundation, your manners have returned. You regard it with a carefully neutral expression in case he happens to look at you as he explains its purpose.

“M’gonna build the walls out of bark I stripped from that big oak,” he tells you. “And the roof’ll be leaves, so they can eat their way out if they’re clever enough.”

You appraise the rubbish heap, which, you quickly realize, is not rubbish at all, but is, instead, a carefully gathered pile of supplies meant for building a bug house. A hollow acorn cap catches your eye. “Could use that for a trough in case they get thirsty,” you suggest. You turn wide eyes to him, craning your neck back to look into his face and holding there until he meets your eye. You’re hoping he can tell from the bright tone of your voice and the earnestness of your expression that you’ve left your rudeness behind in the grass.

He appears, thankfully, quick to forgive and move on. The boy nods a little too hard in his haste to agree with you, and when his unruly curls flop in front of one dark eye, he blows them out of the way with an impatient puff. “Was thinkin’ that very same thing,” he replies, and there’s even a touch of warmth in his voice.

With that hint of warmth, the foreboding within you finally wisps away as if it had never been. In its absence, the full force of your self returns.

You crouch eagerly to examine the pile more closely, heedless of the way your pink skirt drags over the dirt as you carefully spread out each supply he’s gathered. He wavers nearby hesitantly before joining you near the ground, though he keeps his hands hanging between his knees, seemingly content to let you organize things yourself without interference.

“Looks like it’ll be big enough for a whole lot o’bugs,” you say, and your voice is eager, swollen with your obvious intent to be generous. “Which kind d’you like the most? We can start with those.”

Thus begins the hunt for your neighbor’s bug house residents, a venture that occupies half an hour of your young lives and concludes as a resounding failure. You search first all along the forsythia beds and the edges of the porch. When this yields nothing, you move on to the taller grass at the edges of the yard near the treeline, and then even venture into your own yard. But all you and your neighbor manage to find is the husk of an old worm stuck to the lowest step of his porch and some elusive beetles too quick for even him to catch. Frustration builds within you both over the course of that half-hour, a shared irritation at the difficulty of what should, by all accounts, be a fairly simple endeavor.

“Y’always get ants all over when y’dont want them,” you grouse, flopping yourself down onto the bottom porch step and planting your elbows on your knees and your chin in your hands. You quickly wriggle your hips away from that dried worm as he comes to stand in front of you.

“I know!” he exclaims, throwing his hands wide and letting them slap against his thighs. You sigh heavily together, a near simultaneous sound of defeat, and for a moment you listen to the distant cooing of a mourning dove, allowing yourself to wallow in disappointment.

“Y’know…” you say suddenly, looking up at him from the cradle of your palms, “there’s a bunny livin’ under your porch. Maybe it ate all the bugs ‘round your house.”

The boy’s soft nose wrinkles with a frown, but it’s not critical like before. “Do bunnies eat bugs?”

You stare at him and shrug, a sharp tug and fall of narrow shoulders. After a moment, the boy shrugs back as if in acquiescence. “Well,” he offers, “we could just make a house for the bunny then. In case it wants a ‘change of scenery.’” The phrase trips inelegantly off his tongue like it’s something foreign, something he’d heard once and is now repeating.

You, however, pay that no mind, because a blooming of color fills you at his suggestion. It’s blooming so big and bright and fills you so insistently that the tumultuous boy startles visibly when you leap from the step and scrabble off without a word of explanation.

Some swift minutes later, you’re returning at a trot, your hands laden with a new companion who swings at your side with flopping brown ears and a billowing red cloak. The corner of his eye is caught by your approach; he straightens up whip-sharp and shields his face with an overlarge palm to watch the remainder of your journey back to him, dropping his hand only once you skid to a stop one pace away. Eagerly, you set your bunny doll carefully atop one of the flat rocks lining the garden bed, nudging her arms and legs so she’ll sit there primly without assistance.

Breathless still from the quick run to your house but smiling nonetheless, you explain as if he’d asked, “If we’re buildin’ a rabbit house, Mopsy’s gotta watch! She’s my best friend.”

“Mopsy?” the boy asks curiously, “like from Peter Rabbit?”

Again, you bloom; your eyes light from within as you turn to him. “Yes, that’s exactly it! Oh, Peter Rabbit was my favorite book Ms. Willard read w’me this year!” You blink at him, eyes big and wide and so earnest. “Did you read it too?”

His head tilts just slightly, and the frizzy curls shift across his forehead. “How old r’you?” he asks in lieu of answering your question.

“M’eight,” you reply, still earnest if not a bit confused at the question. “Why? How old r’you?”

“Eight,” he answers, “same’s you.” He scratches at the corner of his wide mouth with a dirty fingernail, eyeing you as if he wants to say more but is holding back. You don’t know it, but it’s because your neighbor is trying to reconcile how you’ve just told him that you read this book with your teacher just this year, but it’s been quite some time since he had need of reading together with a teacher, and even longer than that since he last read Peter Rabbit— something he very much considers a ‘baby book’ now.

You don’t know that. But what you do notice is that he seems to be appraising you again, though not in the same way he had when he checked you for a stinger earlier. This appraisal is gentler and over much more quickly; at its conclusion, he changes the subject yet again. “If we’re building the rabbit a house,” he tells you, “we’ll need sticks f’r the walls. Bark’s not gonna be good enough.”

It’s an adequate distraction, and soon enough, you’ve forgotten the dangling conversation about Peter Rabbit as you and your neighbor collect sticks and branches, gather more leaves, and tear long grass from its roots to lay it down for cushioning in the bottom of your construction project.

The process is not entirely smooth, as it never is between two people who are still learning to work with one another, but you and your new neighbor share a common desire which helps to ease it. Despite starting your acquaintance firmly enclosed within your own tough shells, since then, common ground has been discovered. As such, both you and this strange boy are reluctant to trample the new seed of friendship freshly planted between you. As you work alongside one another, you tend that seed with the best of yourselves: you resist the urge to insist on your own way, and he resists the urge to assume the worst in you.

You are, as Ms. Willard would put it, acting on your very best behavior.

Mama would be proud.

By the time the sun has reached its highest point in the sky, your makeshift rabbit house has three walls and a soft bed of grass at its center. The leaf roof he’d intended to make was more difficult than anticipated, so you used them instead to adorn the ground and create a path from one side of the red house to the other, with the intention of leading the bunny to the new sanctuary you’ve created. How likely it is to take you up on the offer remains to be seen, but you are pleased nonetheless with the fruits of your labor. The gleam in the boy’s eyes seems to indicate that he’s pleased, too, and you watch him begin a meandering circle to admire your hard work from all angles.

He’s pleased up until the point that tragedy strikes.

On the back end of the circle he’s making around your shared creation, an accidental knock of his calf sends Mopsy tipping slowly backward. He feels the impact and spins clumsily, but his scrabbling fingers are too late to prevent her from falling off the flat rock into the garden bed

Mopsy only lays there in the dirt for maybe a second before the boy snatches her up and cradles her to his chest in a crushing hug, holding her close and then yanking her back out to look her over. Yet the damage has been done: dirt is smudged into her red felt cloak, and it also marrs the pale cream of her long ears and the entire back of her head.

The boy tries to clear the stains away with hasty swipes of his hands. But his fingers are dirty, so all he manages to do is streak her with more brown filth. The more he tries— the more frantic he becomes, desperate to correct his mistake— the worse she gets. Helplessly, he turns to you, and you take in the crinkle of his brow, the pinch of his wide red mouth, the panicked look in his eyes as he waits for your reaction.

It’s not unreasonable for him to assume you will be angry. You had, after all, told him that Mopsy is your best friend, and now she’s been soiled by his hand. And he has, after all, already caught a glimpse of the impatience, the stubbornness, the hotness of temper that lives inside you. But what he doesn’t know is that life has already taught you that accidents happen. You remember all the times Ms. Willard has soothed hot tears, or helped you and your classmates clean up spills. And despite— or, perhaps, because of— the ire you face when your accidents make Mama and Papa so angry with you, you accept the earnest apology in his expression without any further fuss.

“Oh, that’s all right,” you tell him, and there isn’t a hint of sourness in it. When you take Mopsy from his loose fingers and look down at the new stains on her fur and clothing, your expression doesn’t even flicker. “S’just an accident. Accidents happen, y’know,” you add when the worry in his dark eyes doesn’t ease.

And then, just to make sure he really, truly understands, you smile at him. Big and wide and uninhibited, you smile.

Though you’re missing one front tooth and the effect is borderline manic, it is so poignantly obvious that the reassurance your smile offers is an instant balm. The worry clears; the boy smiles back, crinkly-eyed and wide. It warms you like a ray of sunshine has overtaken his whole face, like dark clouds have broken to reveal the wild beauty left in the sky after a summer storm has passed.

In the end, that's all it took for inevitability to take hold: a single bright smile echoed on two faces.

You don’t know the name of the strange new boy next door, but it little matters. Because when two like souls finally find their rest on a common wire, fluttering their wings as they descend to perch together and rest in the comfort of sweet company, what one calls another becomes nothing more than an afterthought.

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