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dearharriet · 4 months

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American Honey; Steve Harrington ⛱️

summary: it’s summer, and you’re in love with your boyfriend, steve.

word count: 2K

warnings: implied fem!r, drinking, lots of pet names (honey, baby, pretty, beautiful), lord of the rings references (+ fellowship spoilers!!), tickling, suggestive language

authors note: rly missing summer after writing this one 😭 also I made a mental yarn map between st and lotr while writing this that i can’t unmake I fear

Steve Harrington is an American Treasure.

Fresh out of the pool, he strides toward you, a limber hand reaching out for the beer he entrusted you with. It made you feel special, and Steve certainly entertained the notion. He’s always calling you sweet things—baby, pretty, beautiful, or your favorite—

“Honey.” His shining body is enveloped in shade as he steps under the umbrella you’re using.

He’s an American treasure. Patriotic the way that Colonel Sanders or Bruce Springsteen are. Spangled with freckles and moles like stars, stripes of hot skin on display. Red-shouldered from the sun, blue-lipped from a rocket ice pop, but his teeth remain pearly white.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his warm fingers dampening yours as you hand the can off to him.

“‘Course,” you reply, breathless.

“You sure you won’t swim with me?”

You liked that. He never pretended he had the interest of the whole group in mind. Steve wanted you all for himself, and he wasn’t shy about it.

Smiling up at him, you shake your head.

“I don’t wanna get burnt,” you say. “And anyways, who’s gonna look after your drink if I get in?”

Steve steps closer to pet your hair. It’s a little awkward with his hands still being wet, but you accept it nonetheless.

“Lucky for you, I don’t really care about the drink. I only asked you to hold it ‘cause you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

A smile creeps onto your face, which has turned red—sunblock be damned.

That’s another thing you like about Steve. He’s not really coaxing you into the pool. He knows you burn easy, and further, he’s trying his hardest not to touch your face. He’d watched you meticulously rub sunscreen over it just thirty minutes ago, and he’s sweet enough to remember now.

Worst of all, he knows your anxiety about burning stretches beyond just you, so he ordered the kids to sunscreen up just to put you at ease. It has you thinking undeniably fond, hungry, and binding things about him.

Steve is none the wiser, setting his beer down and rubbing a pruny palm down his chest.

“Could you get my shoulders again, babe? Think the chlorine washed it all off.”

You both know damn well it didn’t, but neither complains as Steve perches himself on the edge of your lounger and you rub sunblock into his broad shoulders.

It’s hard not to love everything about him. Not that you’re trying to stop, but you haven’t admitted to it yet, so maybe you are. Everything is terribly simple and domestic with Steve, easily imaginable as a forever kind of thing, and you’re desperately trying not to jump the gun.

What’s stuck with you time and again—like now—is your contentment in committing unselfish acts, as long as Steve is happy. Everything you do for him is sublimely fulfilling, and you can’t help but imagine that he thinks the same about you. Why else would he happily swim alone and bake away in layers of sunblock, if not because you’re happy first?

Feeling intimidated by all of the commotion around, you amalgamate all of these big feelings into a subdued kiss on Steve’s sticky shoulder. Your lips come away tangy with sunblock, but it’s worth it.

Taking it as a sign that you’re done, Steve turns around and gives you exactly what you want, leaning over your bare legs to kiss your waiting mouth. You think it’s a thank-you kiss, but then he’s leaning in for another, and another, his hand holding steady to your ankle.

When he pulls away he’s like a concentrated UV beam. His shoulder is hot where you draw shapes into it.

“Y’still having fun? We could go inside.”

Your legs press together.

“I know why you want to go inside,” you tease, poking his cheek, “and it’s going to have to wait.”

“Who says,” he challenges, pouting, “s’my house.”

Your eyes leave his face to watch the action in the pool. The kids are reenacting a Tolkien-related battle very loudly and dramatically, with Eddie as Aragorn.

“Everyone is here,” you remind him, nodding at the pool just as Will flays an imaginary Orc. Steve doesn’t even glance behind himself.

“So?” He mumbles, kissing your bottom lip. “I’ll tell them to leave.”

He’s so hard to resist like this, all gushy and lovesick. You push your fingers into the hair at his neck to pull him away and he hums happily.

“You’re terrible,” you chide, but you’re smiling, anyhow.

“Is it a crime to love your girlfriend?” A shock zips through you, but Steve doesn’t seem to notice what he's admitted.

“Steve!” Lucas—who is using his recent growth spurt to play Legolas—calls over, saving you from responding.

“Stop sucking face and get over here! It’s time for you to die.”

“Uh-oh,” you laugh, patting Steve on the back. “Sounds serious.”

“How come they always make me play Boring-mir,” he complains, turning back to you. He doesn’t seem very motivated to get up at all, practically lazing beside your legs despite the gang of nerds waiting on him.

“He’s not so bad, from what I’ve read,” you argue, glancing at the closed book by your side. “Though I think they should let you take a crack at Aragorn.”

Grinning, Steve stretches up to kiss you.

“Honey, I think you’re the only one who believes in me,” he whispers sarcastically, and then presses in again.

“Steve!”The kids all throw their hands up. Eddie continues to swing a pool noodle like a sword.

“Coming!” Steve gives you the kiss they interrupted, though it's missing the sensuality it began with. “Jesus, you guys, you see what I’m leaving behind?” Steve gestures to you, and you swat at his arm.

“Steve, stop.”

“No! It’s an impossible task,” he declares, arms out, loud enough so the kids can still hear him. Then, quieter, “you’re too damn gorgeous, gorgeous.”

“Resist temptation, brother,” Eddie calls. “The power of the ring cannot be wielded!”

Steve waves him off as he gives you one final, lingering kiss. Then he's up, trekking back into the sun.

“Don’t think you’ll kill me so easily this time, brats. I’m fighting for Mordor!”

“You’re fighting for Gondor, thick head,” Dustin snips, but screeches when Steve tackles him.

Smiling from your shady oasis, you leave your book forgotten at your side. Steve puts on a good show, taking imaginary hits for Merry-Erica and Pip-Dustin, cutting off forgotten lines with groans and tears.

You shake your head ruefully as the kids cheer and applaud his passing, not sure they understand the sacrifice made. Steve just smiles and bows, and you think maybe he doesn’t, either.

When he finally slumps down next to you again—dripping and warm and happy to be discharged—you curl into him and throw your legs between his.

“Tired?” You lean your head against the springy elastic slats and look at him softly. He nods and pulls you closer, his free hand and his thigh working together to open a new can of beer. He takes a swig and hands it to you.

“I don’t know how they can keep going. I feel like I need an IV.”

You laugh around the rim of the can.

“Maybe I can get you a glass of water, then, and keep this to myself.” You swirl the heavy can in front of him. Steve shakes his head.

“You wouldn’t dare. Beer is, like, basically water, I’m pretty sure.” You raise a skeptical brow, but hand it back to him. “It is! It’s sterile, baby.”

“I love it when you talk sexy.”

Steve throws his head back laughing, nearly dumping the can into both of your laps. You never take your eyes off of him, chest light with the high of encouraging a sound so sweet.

“Where did you even hear that?” You trace his collarbone as you ask, and then his adams apple. Steve’s eyes are still squeezed shut as he attempts to talk through his giggling.

“E—hedd—d-iehee.”

Surely it wasn’t that funny, you think, watching him go red in the face. He’s working himself up more than anything, now. You don’t care. You add fuel to the fire, pinching under his ribs to watch him squirm and howl.

Steve practically throws the can onto the ground, writhing away from your menacing fingers.

“Baby—stop!” You’re laughing with him now, infected by his hiccuping voice. “Honey—honey, please——time-out, time-out!”

You stop, and he snags your hand to hold it away from him. Panting, Steve twists around to pin you on the chair, his free hand creeping towards your bare side.

“Payback…,” he whispers threateningly.

“No…Steve—“It’s too late, Steve’s hands are already working into your sides cruelly, and his mouth is blowing raspberries into your neck. You kick your feet wildly, pushing at his shoulder with your connected hands.

At your shrieking, everyone looks over, faces forming into a hash of reactions. Surprisingly—or unsurprisingly—no one intervenes. The boys boo at you, but it’s only as long-lived as the tickling itself.

“Sto-ho-ho-hoppp—“ you plead, and Steve yields, a satisfied smile on his face.

When you finally relax back into the chair again, chest rising and falling rapidly, Steve takes your hand into his and holds it over his torso.

“Hate you,” he puffs out, and then picks up the beer that started it all.

“Hmph,” you complain, and hold your hand out until he passes it over.

“I love you.”

You’re aiming for casual, but you miss the mark obscenely. It sticks in your throat and you end up saying every letter.

Steve is eerily silent, watching as you take a nervous gulp of PBR. When you try to pass it back, his receiving hand floats up to your face to wipe over your bottom lip instead.

“What was that?” It’s not a question so much as an encouragement, a request. You can’t even look him in the eyes, curling into his shoulder shamefully.

“Please don’t laugh,” you whine, mortified. How had he made it look so easy?

Steve snakes an arm behind you and rubs your back comfortingly.

“‘M’not, honey. Just wanna make sure I heard you right.”

“You heard me,” you confirm grumpily.

He hums a warm laugh.

Smushing your face into his bicep, you laugh, too. Like magic, the ease flows through your body again, as if it never left. Like the water in the pool, your conversations always slip and slide from childish to heart-pounding and back again. So far, the scariest parts of being with Steve have been the anxieties you invented along the way, and he’s never been unprepared for them.

Propping your chin on his peck, you cuddle closer to him, the warm day slipping into evening chill. Steve waits, patient as a Saint, fiddling with your hair and your top and your mind.

“You knew, didn’t you,” you whisper, rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb. The near-empty can is still wedged between your bodies, cool against your ribs.

“Sure,” Steve admits. “But thinking it and saying it are different things.”

“True.” You swallow. “Were you waiting on me?”

“Mm, I guess.” He shrugs. “I know it doesn’t change anything if you don’t, but I think I wanted to hear you say it back. Yknow, when I told you.”

Nodding, you kiss the closest patch of skin you can find. Steve continues.

“And then I realized I’d never know if you’d say it back, so I thought I’d wait for you to say it first, which is dumb—“

“S’not dumb,” you assure him, “that’s what I was doing, too.”

Locking eyes, you both peel into laughter at the same time.

“That’s why it’s dumb,” Steve emphasizes. You crawl closer still, giving him the can to put down so you can close the last gap between your bodies. Steve sighs as your nose presses into his neck. “What am I gonna do with you, honey?”

“Terrible, awful, horrible things, I hope.”

You can feel him smiling, sense it.

“Nuh-uh, we’re in love now. Only love-making from here on out.”

You look out towards the pool, at the kids drying off and getting hungry.

You could hardly wait.

thank you for reading! 🦢

masterlist

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff

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thegoblinboy · 5 months

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Eddie skims the books on the shelf in front of him, there was no use in trying to find one he was actually interested in. He was just going to end up forgetting about it and picking up one of the lord of the rings books again. Instead he just lets himself wander through his thoughts. Letting his body go in autopilot as his fingers gently brush the spines of dozens of books.

He should be in gym class, but he isn’t. The consequences of skipping were far better than those of actually showing up. The last time he went (over a month ago now) he ended up walking out with a chipped tooth and black eye. And he can’t forget about the bruised ego.

Walking at the end of one aisle, he carefully turns and moves himself into the next. Preparing to loop through said aisle again but nearly jumping out of his skin when he nearly falls over another person. A person who was sitting down, back pressed to the shelf he was walking the corner of.

A croak like noise comes out of the back of his throat as he nearly tumbles face first into carpeting. Stumbling forward a bit and catching balance on the shelf to the left of him. Secretly praying to all that’s holy that he didn’t somehow know the entire shelf over.

“Jesus H Christ.” He spits out, a hand pressed against his chest as he dramatically breathes heavier then normal. Putting on a show for whoever nearly killed him. Turning around to face the culprit he nearly jumps back again startled.

Sitting, pretty pathetically Eddie would say, was a very beat up Steve Harrington. Who looked like a horror book came to life. His eyes, or eye was a bit glossed over and wide as he starts stuttering over his words a bit. Obviously having a moment before Eddie came along and crashed the party.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to trip you up like that.” Steve visibly cringes at his own words, as if he was also aware he seemed pathetic.

“Eh- it’s alright. Not the first time a king has tried taking me out.” He grins, before faltering a bit as he remembers that the other wouldn’t understand his DnD campaign reference.

He begins to walk away, wanting the entire awkward interaction to be over. But he can’t help but be just a bit nosy as his eyes glance down at the book in Steve’s lap. It probably had been open at one point, but it was now closed and Eddie is secretly thankful he can read upside down.

“Head injuries huh?” He points out. “Didn’t take you for a reader King Steve.” He drags the other’s name out a bit longer than he has to as he crosses his arms over his chest and cocking a hip out. He didn’t personally enjoy talking with asshole jocks, but what he did enjoy was knowing some things. He liked having some lore for the people around him.

“I’m not.” Steve snorts as he lifts the book up. “Just trying to do some research, I don’t know if you have eyes or anything but my face is pretty smashed in right now.” He retorts back with a little bit of sass. Eddie notes how his words slur up a bit, like he was drunk. But Eddie could spot a drunk anywhere and Steve Harrington seemed a hundred percent sober.

Furrowing his eyebrows, just a bit concerned he doesn’t let up the banter. Purposely forcing his eye lids open with one hand and jokingly pressing the finger tip against his eye before pulling back. Blinking the tears out of his slightly agitated right eye as he brings two thumbs up and comments, “we are in the clear I, Eddie Munson, let the record show, have eyeballs.” He grins dramatically.

“Want a gold star for that poncho.” Steve snorts, shaking his head a bit obviously amused. His body tensed up a bit as he goes a bit pale for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut with shaky breathes as his fists tighten around the book he was holding.

“Yes I do in fact want a gold star-” Eddie mumbles out gently, face scrunching up a bit more worried now as he moves his crossed arms from off his chest and moves a few steps closer to the other.

“Hey Harrington, you alright? You don’t seem like your typical charming self.” He comments as he hesitates for a moment before he crouches down. Leaving a few inches between the two of them.

Steve gives a weak nod of his head before he adjusting himself. “Yeah- just moves my head too much. Happens sometimes you know?” He chuckles gently.

“Oh thank god, you were looking a little green. Was worried you were about to hulk out on me buddy.” Eddie jokes a little, trying to lighten the mood a bit. Lifting his hand up and running one of his rings against the bottom of his lip before glancing back down at the book.

“Find anything good in there, or are you just holding it for show?” Eddie asks gently, trying to come off a bit more teasing.

Steve snorts again, sounding a bit stressed as he nearly shakes his head no again but stopped ps himself. “No, couldn’t even make it through the first page without wanting to throw up.” He groans as he quickly adds. “Not because I don’t want to read it, it’s just the words won’t sit still and it hurts my eyes which then hurts my head.” He groans as he opens his eyes back up fully and looks down at the book with a little huff.

“Could always get a nerd to do your homework for you,” Eddie jokes, slightly hinting towards Wheeler. “Heard that girlfriend of yours had a decent brain on her, she seems like the type to understand that you’ll need help.” He tilts his head to the side as he looks at the other.

Steve makes a noise that Eddie can’t even place, it sounded like the mixture of a laugh and a snort combined. “Can’t, I’m pretty sure she cheated on me with Byers. Don’t want to feel any more stupid around her.” He mumbles the last sentence out.

Eddie looks a bit surprised, he hadn’t taken Mrs Priss to be a cheater. Though he furrows his eyebrows again in thought. “If you give me a twenty I’ll read that book for you and try answering any questions you have.”

Eddie didn’t want to seem completely like a sweetheart, he had to keep up the image he had going on or else people wouldn’t take him seriously during deals. And he didn’t want to ruin said image to Steve Harrington of all people.

Steve squints his good eye at Eddie suspiciously, “I’ll pay you a hundred if you don’t mention this to anybody else.”

Eddie feels a little bit shitty for doing this but an image had to be kept.

“You’ve got yourself a deal Harrington.” His grin isn’t fully authentic as he takes the book from the other and does a playful salute as he stands up fully and begins to walk away.

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astralis-ortus · 14 days

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ways to say 'i love you'

✱ a bang chan headcanon

— an awkward phrase for him, so he resorts to showing his affection instead.

w.count → 0.6k genre → fluff. pure fluff because i miss him :( warnings → very minor cussing (is saying ass includes as cussing?), just very domestic chan thingy a.n → again, i'm in my 'missing chan' hours and writing this at 2 in the morning was hopefully enough to lessen some of that feeling (it was not)(also this is absolutely not proofread)(who has the right mind to proofread at 2am AND after a crying sesh?)

chan’s a busy man—but it was never a problem for him to make time for you.

be it on the days where his schedules were dictated down to the second, or even worse—when he’s constantly away, for weeks on end, performing in cities where your days were the exact opposites of his nights, he would always make it a point that you know the thought of you never once leaves his mind.

captioned ‘was going on a stroll and came across this park, heh’ as he sent you a picture of him going on a swing, or ‘look at this giant ass churro!! hahah you’d definitely love it here’ when he went to an amusent park with his members on his day off, thousands of miles away from you. your gallery easily surpasses the tens of thousands count, and it’s all from the way chan remembers you in his mundane, everyday life.

chan would also make a connection between you and the small things around him.

his chunky chrome hearts beanie? yeah, it’s the one you said turned him into the wolfchan plushy he gifted you. his earbuds? oh, you stuck a glittery star shaped sticker on the case so you wouldn’t take the wrong one. his laptop? it still made him giggle when he remembered how panicked you were when he told you the thing wouldn’t turn on, only for him to then realize he just forgot to charge it (and he had to appease you from leaving him on read by promising to call as soon as his rehearsal ends).

even when everything is technically his, chan couldn’t help but leave traces of you in his memories of those things—because for him, everything is better with a touch of you in it.

chan loves taking care of you, but he can’t decide if he loves it more when you’re the one taking care of him.

don’t get him wrong—he’d still try very hard to be the dependable one in your relationship. it’s in his blood, he can’t help it... but what power does he have when you adorably said that you’ve been learning on how to take care of his curls, and how you wanted to try the products that just came in the mail earlier in the day. he’d have no choice but to obediently sit between your legs, taking glances of your furrowed brows through the mirror across while your fingers were busy making sure his hair finally turned into the glorious curls you’ve always longed it to be.

if by letting you take care of him made your eyes turn into the brightest constellation of stars he’s ever seen in his life, then he will forever allow you to take care of him.

also, let’s not forget how chan loves his dose of physical touch.

constantly being away never made the trips any easier for him. if any, the periods of actually being with you made it harder for him to ever leave. imagine going from constantly having your gentle body heat around him, to not having them for an extended period of time? lord, chan would give anything just to be able to feel the way your fingers absentmindedly trace figures on his palm while you were reading your books away, like that one night when you stubbornly decided to accompany his all-nighter attempt at his studio.

chan direly needs your touch—he direly needs you.

and after everything you’ve done for him,

after everything you’ve went through,

chan finally realizes that there’s one sure way to let you know that he loves you.

so the next time you sleepily said you think you’re going to bed,

or when you text him a random meme along with an ‘i miss you’ text on a regular thursday evening,

he’d make sure he didn’t forget to tell you the line

“i love you.”

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

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slashersidewhore · 2 years

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Slashers! S/O seeing them maskless for the first time

Slashers x gn!reader

Including Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair,

Requested: yes

Warnings: mentions of killing, beefy murder boyfriends, sprinkle of angst, that cute shit

Michael Myers

I think seeing him without a mask would take awhile, he’s not one to reveal much about himself

It would probably just be out of the blue as well

You’d be chilling on the couch, reading or going on your phone or something

Although you never really heard him approach you’d feel his… presence

Glancing up and caught off guard by the fact you’re looking at skin, not an emotionless face of blank white

Probably drop whatever you’re holding from the shock of it

Michael has a large scar across his eye, (and depending on which timeline this is in, maybe also burns)

I see him as someone who isn’t self conscious of looks, despite the mask wearing

The mask is a representation to how he feels in a way, blank, I mean we all know he’s not unattractive by any scale

He wouldn’t say anything either, just stand there staring at you waiting

If this OG Myers, your silence is irksome

If this is RZ Myers, your silence is indicating he’s made the wrong move

Either way both versions are somewhat comforted when you slide off the cushions to make your way over

Warm palms gently caress the sides of his face

Don’t think he’s gonna close his eyes and lean into your hand all cutesy though, no way

He’s just staring, expressionless, into your eyes

Maybe he serves a classic head tilt

Kinda like silently asking, “what do you think”

Of course you’d just smile and lean in for a kiss

It’s slightly one sided but that’s okay, you love your brick wall

Jason Voorhees

Honestly, it was probably an accident

Like he gets some kind of injury, or something similar in the facial region

So naturally when he’s finished with his… “work”, he goes to fix it up

And in order to do that, he removes his safeguard

Jason knows he was seen differently as a kid because of his deformity, the mask is his safety net, a way to look at his reflection without becoming sick

So when it’s perched on the bathroom counter top, and you come waltzing in, let’s just say he imagined this differently

Never wanted to see you without the hockey mask

Even to kiss, he would just place the plastic to your skin

But now it’s just…

It’s really awkward

I’m not even gonna lie

Y’all just standing there, eyes wide staring at one another, you could hear a pin drop

He lunges for the mask but is stopped by a hand clutching his own

You probably didn’t even mean to do it, your body just reacted naturally

Now Jason can’t meet your eyes, he’s staring at the ground in shame

Not wanting to push any boundaries and touch his face, you just tug on the hand in your grasp

Slowly but surely, he meets your eyes

He looks, very comfortable, like lord take me now level uncomfortable

He expects disgust in your eyes, and is caught off guard by the stars twinkling in them

His entire body relaxes

He shoulders drop, his hand clasps with yours finally

And the two of you continue to gaze at one another

Although this time, instead of it being awkward, it’s love

Thomas Hewitt

I’d imagine if Tommy trusts you, at some point he’d let you take it off

It would probably be after a long day, everyone is tired

Especially Thomas

He’d been working in the Texas heat for hours, and no matter how tough this man is, we all need a break eventually

You’re sat in your shared bedroom, on the bed, something keeping you occupied

In strolls the man himself

He’s clearly exhausted, even showered still smelling of the usual sweaty musk

Taking a seat on the mattress beside you, his hair is partially over his face as he angles it to you

The silence is peaceful, even with his usual heavy breathing

Your hands gently caress his leather covered cheeks, leaning in to press a kiss to the bare skin of his forehead

As you go to pull away, ready to turn in for sleep, a much larger hand lands on one of your own

Big, wide, and a dark blue eyes watch your expression shift as his hand guides yours to the straps at the back of his mask

Now, Tommy didn’t sleep with his mask on

That’s a safety hazard

But, he only ever took it off once it was dark in the room, and always put it on before you woke up

The current apprehension in his eyes was melting away as you gradually began to smile

And Tommy just loved seeing you smile

Unbuckling the tough straps, you were quick to lay the now unnecessary item somewhere beside the two of you

Hoyt must be one dumb son of a bitch if he’s calling the face before you ugly

He has no nose, more than a few scars you’ve heard about before scattered across his delicate skin

You can practically hear his heart beating out of his chest

In attempts to quell them, you grin, pressing a soft kiss to his chapped lips

Although this only makes it beat faster

Vincent Sinclair

Bo’s fault

Like 99.99%

Vincent isn’t shy, he’s just reserved, let’s be clear

But that doesn’t mean he feels completely confident in himself, especially when it comes to you

So imagine one day you’re just trying to find Vincent

And instead of silence you’re beginning to hear shouting, specifically Bo’s shouting, echoing down the hall

Then a sharp clank of something breaking

This only quickened your pace until you were standing in the kitchen as well

Vincent was kneeling over his once whole mask, now split down the middle

“Bo can you give us a minute”

You didn’t bother to pull your eyes from the man on the floor, placing a soft hand on his back as you heard footsteps leave the rom

Long, dark hair covered his features, body slouched in a way that couldn’t be comfortable

He never wanted you to see him like this

He knew he wasn’t blessed with visual beauty

He just didn’t want you to inevitability leave when you discovered what he always hid away

But your hand was firm on his back, careful yet making sure you he knew you were there

“Vincent, do you want me to leave?”

Honestly yes

He probably does want you to leave

Get this over with and let him realize he’s alone again

But for some reason he slowly shakes his head no

The palm on his back moves past his hair, cradling his disfigured jaw

You don’t jump from the odd texture of the scarring, nor the bumps and ridges

It anchors him enough to face you, prepared for anything

Although he wasn’t prepared for the little smile on your face

Or the way you shuffled closer so you could place a gentle, chaste kiss to his scarring

Requests are open!

#thomas hewitt #vincent sinclair #jason voorhees #michael myers #slasher #thomas hewitt x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #jason voorhees x reader #michael myers x reader #slashers x reader insert #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #slashers fanfic #slashers fanfiction #slashers headcanons

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whereserpentswalk · 25 days

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There's an orc attending your college. Your city is pretty diverse, there's a lot of human cultures represented there, and even harpies and dwarves are common. But an orc is still a really rare sight. And she's not assimilated at all, she wears the symbol of the dark lord around her neak, and the strange black cloths from the wastelands she came from, and she always seems to have a gun somewhere on her. It's strange just to see an orc in person, she's not like the green skinned monsters you see in movies, her eyes are pitch black, and her skin is so pale you can see veins, she's muscular and tell but also strangely skinny, and her teeth are sharp and spiked like a sharks, this one doesn't have tusks, just these rows of serrated teeth.

Everyone avoids her at first. There's something creepy about her. She doesn't move like a human. She emotes weirdly, being stoic during conversations, but sometimes smiling or laughing at odd times. In class it becomes clear that she lacks knowledge anyone growing up in your society has, but has extensive knowledge on things most humans will never know. She also very clearly supports the dark lord and the demons who serve him, and gets mad when his narrative of conquest and strict genetic hierarchy is challenged in class.

You end up paired with her for a class project. It's weirdly awkward. But you end up spending more time with her then most. It still takes awhile to get used to her mannerisms, and you have to convince her of evolution in a long debate (but eventually you do convince her). She seems strangely naive to a lot of things. Every time she does something that she considers a failure she goes into self loathing, and she gets really afraid she's going to be punished. You have to explain to her things are going to be ok sometimes.

You try to spend time with her. She supports the dark lord but out of a strange sense of fear more than the type of ideological support humans in nations not under his control have. When she does something that she thinks is heresy agaisnt him she becomes afraid. And while she's angry at people who follow gods other than him (which is basically everyone here) she's more afraid of them than everything. When a holy symbol you own touches her she's surprised it doesn't burn her, you have to tell her it's ok.

She has a lot more freedom here than she did back in the wastelands. You slowly help her realize she doesn't have to worry about being punished for sinning agasint the dark lord. She's able to go on the internet for the first time, you help her get everything set up. You also introduce her to your freinds, only some of whom feel safe around her, but those who do seem to like her.

It's weird just hanging out in her dorm. She can be weirdly laid back and introspective at times, at least when she's not nervous or paranoid. But when she's just relaxing she'll tell you about things, about the beauty of the desert sands, about what it was like to observe the rattlesnakes and condors and wyverns of her homeland. How she likes to observe the city, the way the diffrent people flow through it, she was scared of it at first but now she likes to explore it, and the way it lacks stars at night but the lights from the buildings replace it. She says she wishes she could stay here forever, that she wishes she could be an artist but that she was sent here to learn skills useful to the dark lord's empire.

There's something nice about showing her new things. You get to take her to a musical for the first time. Get to show her neighborhoods you like. Get to explain to her what public transport is (though she got scared feeling trapped in a subway car). You get to show her stuff she never got to experience because orcs are never really children, she loves getting to hold a plush for the first time, or watching cartoons for the first time, it's like she's finally getting to live an experience she never had. Even though she's a well armed adult she really likes plushies once she finds out about them, they weren't something she was allowed to have back home.

Over time she starts meeting people and learning things that go against her worldview. As she makes more friends, understands new things, slowly learns that she shouldn't be punished for mistakes, she slowly comes around to seeing how fucked up the world the was raised in is. She tells you she doesn't want to worship the dark lord anymore, she cries just from saying it. You hug her, and realize she's never been hugged before, she seems to really like that feeling. She bathes in the waters of a healing goddess, and she worships something out of love instead of fear for the first time.

Eventually the spawning warlock who spawned her and her siblings comes to visit her. You told her to be careful but she ended up spilling that she doesn't worship the dark lord, she ends up spilling all the things a warlock like that considers a sin. When he leaves she tells you she can't go home. Not ever. Never again will she see the shifting sands, or flying condor, or flowing serpents of her homelands. She's trapped where she is now.

You know it hurts her a lot. She says she feels like she's in a small pocket of safety. Back home she'd be hurt for being an apostate. In human lands outside of the city she'd be hurt for being an orc. But she's safe here. She stays in her apartment for awhile, while you try to make things work. She's finally changing her major to art, and despite everything she's finally free, free to watch the starless sky, free to not be punished when she makes a mistake...

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silken-moonlight · 26 days

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Vampire Yandere

Pairing: Male Vampire Lord x Female human herbalist (you)

Pronouns used for reader: You/Your (writing it Based on a female Reader, will try gn Reader in the future.

A/N: This is my first yandere writing. I do not know yet if I do like to write yandere or if I do it right. Anyways. Let us begin

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As the moon shone gently down across the silent streets, you readied yourself. It was almost midnight, and the full moon climbed higher and higher in the firmament. You were out to harvest a very special flower: Crystallunar flowers. They only bloomed beneath the sixth full moon of a leap year, never in the same place twice. They could heal a great many illnesses. But you had found the place where they would bloom...your local cemetery.

To be honest, it felt a bit strange to you to walk out at midnight to harvest flowers at the cemetery. However, you knew the value of the crystallunar flowers was greater than a short moment of discomfort and awkwardness.

You slipped through the night; no one was outside, and the houses you passed were dark. No one else was still awake. Only the stars and the moon accompanied you on this night.

After a brisk walk, you reached the iron gate; it opened without a sound. Fortunately, the moon was bright enough, so you didn’t need a lantern. Even more quickly, you reached the field of flowers, taking out your sickle to harvest them. The moonlight was reflected by the metallic surface of the petals.

What you didn't realise was that you were watched. A pair of silver eyes followed your form as you sat in the midst of the flower field. He had only seen you once before. He, Lord Atlas Drakaron, gazed upon you when you rushed to aid a sick person in the middle of the night. Now, he saw you again....and if he learned something in his long long live....than that there were no coincedences.

You intrigued him; that was dangerous. His steps were silent as he walked closer. The breeze that caressed the flowers and you brought your scent to him... cool herbs and something else. Something welcoming, something... something else that he needed to have. Atlas licked his fangs. He took a step forward, and your gaze snapped to him.

You froze in your movement and looked at the man infront of you. Who was he? Where did he come from? So many question filled your mind at one.

Atlas, the undead heart, would race if he could. The thought of having a pretty meal vanished. Only one thought filled his mind: Mine. That look in your wary gray eyes, those plump lips, the blush on your cheeks... Atlas shuddered with the desire to have you. The desire became so overwhelming that he quickly walked away into the darkness and vanished.

But he was determiend to meet you again.

#male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere #reader x yandere #vampire x reader #vampires #vampire #monster lover #monsterlover #tw yandere #yandere male x reader #yandere oc

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magistralucis · 6 months

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Conflict in Literature + Necron Books

(Read more for titles and notes, watch out for spoilers)

Man vs. Nature - Devourer This is not the only necron vs. tyranid lit, but I thought the cover illustrated the conflict best. Out of all the horribad things in WH40K, the tyranids tend to be presented as the closest faction to a natural disaster; certainly in Devourer they do not logically justify their presence, nor can they be reasoned with, not by the Blood Angels or Anrakyr or the Tomb World he's trying to wake. Not mindless, but an amoral happenstance, like nature itself.

Man vs. Society - The Lords of Borsis Necron court intrigue played straight, with a sprinkle of delusion on the side. Since this story revolves entirely around the schemings and plottings of necron(tyr) society, with changes in dynastic hierarchy as the final objective, it fits best here.

Man vs. Technology - Indomitus This is an awkward placement, since Indomitus was not, well... a compelling story, with most of its tropes not being explored beyond their first introduction. But it is the most bare-bones way of describing this book's premise. Humans battling a robotic malignancy, albeit with a Bolivian Army Ending, which doesn't conclude the plot in either direction 😞

Man vs. Man - The Twice-Dead King: Ruin Ruin is an exceptionally deep novel, and fits every conflict listed here. It was the hardest one to place, because it's not so much choosing the one that goes best, rather crossing off every other conflict not central to the story. Both gods and the absence-of-gods are a problem in Ruin, as well as nature and technology, but they're not at the heart of Oltyx's problem. Society could be a big one, since Oltyx is an exile - but he’s not trying to antagonize his society throughout Ruin, he's trying to work with it, or at least save it from doom. Self and reality both count, but fit better with other stories in the Nate Crowley corpus. So man vs. man it is. His most important clashes are all with individuals ('man') - Djoseras, Unnas, Hemiun, arguably Yenekh in reserve - and by the end, his crownworld is overrun by the Imperium, who will become the antagonists for the second part of his tale. Man vs. 'Man', with a capital M.

Man vs. Self - The Twice-Dead King: Reign Again, this could have gone elsewhere. In man vs. reality, perhaps, or the god-related ones. But the self is where the conflict of Reign truly lies, since Oltyx's greatest obstacle is himself, and it is his inability to accept that which brings his dynasty close to destruction. Thank goodness he got over that one.

Man vs. Reality - Severed The emotional and philosophical core of this novella relies on it. Zahndrekh's inability to see the world as it is brings about the whole plot, and is at the centre of all of Obyron's musings. Interestingly, reality does not win at the end, at least not what necrons envision reality to be: a place of cold hard facts, with no room for emotion. Zahndrekh would rather dream the impossible dream, which might be the healthier way to deal with their situation.

Man vs. God - The Infinite and the Divine 🚨 𝔻𝕆 ℕ𝕆𝕋 𝔹𝔼 𝔻𝔼ℂ𝔼𝕀𝕍𝔼𝔻 🚨

Man vs. No God - Crusade: Pariah Nexus Not a novel, not 100% about necrons, not even out yet as of now (Dec 2023). This is an inherently problematic conflict for WH40K, because gods are very real and very present in that universe... here I'm only thinking about the necron perspective, and the civil war unfolding in their lore. They banded together in a shared purpose eons ago, destroying the Old Ones who oppressed them, and sundering the star gods who subjected them to biotransference. Now they are as antigod as they could be, and they did not retain their bonds, they have once again turned on each other. So it goes.

Man vs. Author - Codex: Necrons (10th Ed.) (Collector's Ed.) James Workshop knows what they did. 😑

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thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch · 5 months

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w.count: 1.1k - golden birthday wishes for him only (っ◔◡◔)っ ❤

evening was settling in when you came face to face with zhongli's front door. you knew he was cleaning up around his home today, he told you so after all.

"it's pleasant starting off the new year with a fresh start, and there's no better start than your own home," he had told you.

staring at the liyue styled door, you sway between knocking or just using the spare key he keeps stashed away not far from the entrance. on one hand, you felt like it would be rude to just interrupt his progress- even if the both of you had plans once the sun set. on the other, wouldn't it be just as rude to barge in unannounced- even if he was partially expecting you?

not coming to a proper conclusion, you decide to cut your awkward standing at his doorstep short. quickly finding the key, you crack open the door and with the little space you granted yourself, peek your head inside. the small lamp inside the doorway on the small shelf he kept was lit, so he was at least home. you didn't see him or his shadow anywhere though.

stepping further inside, you knock on the already open door twice before shutting it behind you. why chose between two options when you can just do both after all. toeing off your shoes, you step cautiously inside. although less than likely, you didn't want to startle the fake geo vision holder if you could help it.

"zhongli?" you call out, stepping into the main room. looking back and forth and even moving to check to see if he was in the kitchen; maybe he would be rearranging his tea leaves because there is no way he'd use his kitchen for cooking. lord of geo he may have used to be, that man cannot be trusted in the kitchen.

walking back, you stand at the bottom of the staircase that leads up to the second floor. he must be up there- and upstairs he was. once you reach the top, you could hear him rummaging around in a room with the door half shut. and old storage room he kept all sorts of things in if memory serves.

approaching the door, you knock softly a few times before peeking in just like how you did at the front door.

"zhongli?" you parrot from earlier and are met with his back. he was stood in front of an old wardrobe crafted from sandbearer wood- common to liyue. "well, don't you look handsome," you compliment when he turns to face you. walking inside, you come to his side and flick his long hair that rested on his chest over his shoulder to behind his back where it now rests along his spine.

the outfit he wore was one you didn't even know he had. though different from his normal whengsheng funeral attire, it had a familiar pattern to it. deep shades of brown lined with gold and flickered with designs that mimicked golden stars. the scaling pattern along the fabric was a nice touch as well; no doubt a nod to his golden form that had put on quite the dramatic show at his 'death'.

"i've never seen these pieces before," you tell him, reaching up to straighten the collar that crawled up his neck. zhongli's chest jumped in light chuckles at both your actions and words.

"i had forgotten i had them in truth. though, a long time ago, i used to wear them often." turning back to the open wardrobe, you notice an over coat with large shoulder guards that obviously went over the skintight under-layer he currently wears. "i came across them while tidying up, and in the spur of the moment decided to... remanence a bit."

"hmm," you hum in acknowledgement. seeing his normal clothes hanging neatly up away from him you indeed notice how similar they are. "did the person who made your clothes of today also make these?" his eyes blink in astonishment at your query.

"that is correct. you have sharp eyes to notice."

"i wouldn't go that far." you look up at him and brush his bangs around his face, fixing him up in small and rather passive ways. still, zhongli allowed you to do what you wanted. he enjoyed your preening; it made him feel cared for. your fingers move to brush around his ear that held a golden cuff that curled around his earlobe instead of his normal white dangling one. "are you planning to wear this out then? im sure it's creator would love to have it seen the moonlight of liyue on the eve of a new year, no?"

"the thought had crossed my mind," he admits. "perhaps i shall."

"then we better have a good time, or else the moonlight on the fabric will be wasted." you turn away from him to search the nearby dressers for shoes that aren't his daily ones. maybe a nice pair of boots instead... and maybe longer gloves to hide the golden veins running across his wrists. as you rummaged around, he watched you with stars in his eyes.

the way you encouraged and even prompted his whims filled his chest with so much warmth- it was like he could bleed gold.

"dear," he calls. when you turn to offer him your attention, his hand is outstretched towards you. a silent plea for you to come to him. and you do. placing your hand in his, he holds it tightly and tugs you gently so his lips can be pressed into the crown of your head. "you'll stay with me into the new year, yes?"

"where else would i be?" you notice over his shoulder the last rays of the evening darkening into a blanket of night. "but if you wish to see the festivities of the end of this one, we should hurry out soon." pulling his lips away from your head, he agrees. you help him into his coat- as out of style on an 'ordinary' man it was, it still looked far too good on him.

standing at the front door, you slip on your shoes you had left there earlier. and with his hand on your back, he falters when you stop suddenly before turning to face him. he blinks down at you and you wonder if he still remembers his birthday, or if he even cares at this point in his long long life.

"happy birthday, rex lapis," you tease. seeing as he was wearing his archon clothing, it felt right. zhongli just shut his eyes in amusement and thanks you by nuzzling his nose into your temple before leading you out into the harbor's busy streets.

call him greedy, but a part of him wanted to stay home so only you could see him like this. and additionally, only he could bask in your presence for the turning of the year.

perhaps he could sneak you away just before the clock ticked fully down and spend the first few minutes of the year of the dragon alone- even if it's hidden in an alley.

#genshin impact #zhongli fluff #zhongli x reader #zhongli x y/n #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli x you #zhongli blurb #zhongli fic #zhongli fanfic #zhongli #genshin impact zhongli x reader #happy birthday dragon man c: smooches

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missglaskin · 1 year

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Do you Love Me?

Note- Once again, it’s 3Am as I finish this. So I apologize for the many grammar mistakes. Also, this was greatly inspired by The great (hulu), come on Aegon gives off Peter vibes

Pairing: Soft dark!Aegon II Targaryen x reader x fem!reader

Tags: EXPLICIT/SMUT, Arranged marriage, character deaths, strangely some fluff, lots of angst, pregnant!reader, Aegon is a terrible husband at first, squint of Jace/reader, love confessions, manipulation, jealousy, implied painful first time

You worshiped the prince. And how could you not? He was young, handsome, and, as mentioned, a prince. Every girl in the seven kingdoms dreamed of him. But he was yours by oath. And when you finally saw him on your wedding day, it was the happiest moment of your life.

Your arms were linked with your father’s. Feeling your heart pound in your chest. Stomach churned with excitement. When you finally reached the altar, your father handed you to the Prince. And the second his hand touched yours, the butterflies in your stomach violently clashed with one another.

In the sight of gods and men. The prince will become yours. And you will be his. Your eyes didn’t look away from his violet ones, wanting to drown yourself in them. They are so alluring that the Septon’s words are muddled in your ears. But you didn’t need to hear them. Memorizing the vows by heart. As you recited them to the mirror every other day. One heart, one flesh, one soul.

After the vows were said, you and the prince sat side by side. The servant on his side poured wine into his cup throughout the entire night. He didn’t speak to you. He didn’t even ask you to dance. Watching all the other lords and ladies surrounding you laugh and dance with one another.

His face turns to you on occasion and you smile at him every time. He didn’t return them. Maybe he was nervous. You hoped he was so you wouldn’t feel that slight pang. To distract yourself, your eyes roamed the remaining table, seeing his family. His grandfather, his mother, his sister, his brothers were all there. You couldn’t help but notice the shared look they gave you. In return, you continued smiling, even when you sensed it slowly faltering.

Soon it was the wedding night. And the excitement bubbled once more. You remembered your times at the library back home. You were a lady, and it was a scandalous thing to do, but you indulged your curiosities. Reading such shameful books that your Septa would’ve certainly had you flocked if she ever heard of it.

The pleasure, the desire, the yearning, the burning, the ecstasy all written in such detail. And the men in the stories. They were so selfless and giving. Meeting her every need, making her see the stars and the moon. The thought of doing all of those things with the prince crossed your mind more times than you can count. It made you ashamed, but should you be, knowing he’ll be yours someday.

But on that night, he tarnished your dreams.

The prince, your newly husband; Aegon crawled to you. Stinking of wine. There was no preparing, no reassurement, no kisses, no praises. Laying there as he thrusted sloppily into you. Your body moved back and forth from the force. Your eyes on the ceiling, tears welling up. He wouldn’t even look at you.

Aegon lies beside you now, passed out. All that drinking finally got to him. Your eyes are still on the ceiling, unable to grasp the reality you’re in. There was no pleasure, no ecstasy, and you surely did not see the stars. You doubted if it even happened, if not for the aching in your legs and the cum stains on your inner thighs.

Finally, you move to get yourself clean. Maybe you were to blame. You had all these whimsical dreams and such lofty expectations. It was known that first times are always awkward, so maybe it will get better the next time. And besides, you have a lifetime together. He’s just drunk. The following morning, he will treat you much better and finally show you the love and affection you have so desperately craved.

The following morning he did not, in fact, treat you better. He wasn’t even there. The breakfast that you had the servants prepare was left mostly cold, with you being the only one at the table. His presence during the evening was nowhere in your ‘shared’ chambers. And when he finally showed himself, it was him drunk either collapsing on the bed or going on top of you to do what he must do.

Is that what your life is to be every day. Where were the embraces, the kisses in the morning, the heartfelt confessions, the gifts, the loving gazes. He treated you as if you were some common whore, rather than his wife. But it wasn’t his constant drunkenness that pushed you over the edge, nor was it him ignoring your mere existence.

It was the sight of him with another woman that did. He didn’t even notice your presence as you turned to leave. He finally did it. He broke you. As sobs wreck your body. You finally understood the looks his family gave you, the court, the servants, even the guards. It was a look of pity. Foolish girl, they must think. So hopeful, so naïve, so stupid.

The morning after, he showed up at the breakfast table. The day before, it would have made you giddy in your seat. Batting your eyelashes and listening intently to every word he said. But now you have seen what you need to see. Your head down while you eat in silence.

You just couldn’t understand. He didn’t show you an ounce of kindness even when you greeted him with open arms. Even when you were ready with a heart full of love.

With all of that, you shouldn’t have taken pity on him. He came drunk as he always did, but this time it was in such a state that it almost seemed as though something had happened to make him seem so miserable. Aegon puked, filling the space with the foul stench. It seeped through his shirt.

You genuinely despise your tendered heart as you move to assist him. Having him lean on you as you shout for the servants to run the bath. They also assisted you in taking off his clothes and getting him into the bath. During all of this, Aegon was still somewhat conscious.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a servant reach for the sponge to wash his body with. But you stop her, taking it from her hand. You command for them all to leave. Call it jealousy if you will.

As you scrubbed his body, half-lidded eyes watched you the entire time. When you were finished, it took all your strength to get him out of the bath, his wet body soaking through your nightgown. You grabbed the towel to go dry him off only for your nightgown to be tugged by his fingers.

With his words slurred together, he murmurs "take it off". Even in this state, he was still thinking of what’s between his legs. As you finally glance down, you realize his sudden arousal. As the wetness made the white night-gown a see-through.

You could easily deny him. Slap his hand away. Push him to the bed and tuck him in. His condition left him in no position to fight. He has always gotten his wishes. And will it fill you with some satisfaction to finally deprive him of his wants. Absolutely.

But what of your wishes, your wants, your needs. Perhaps it was driven by a sense of entitlement, but you wanted to experience the burning desire you had always heard of. Not the sloppy drunken fucks he gives you, all just to release his seed and pass out later on your side.

Hands reaching the bottom of the nightgown. Lifting the drenched fabric over your head. Drawing the violet eyes to your bare body. His lips arc into a contented smirk. You smack the hand trying to grab you. Wiping that smirk off his face when you push his chest.

Resting your full weight on him. Palms placed on either side of his head; caging him. Feeling the soft strands of silver hair between your fingers. Through his haze, he can mostly see your face. And that's what you want. For him to focus on you and nothing else. For the rest of the world to be nothing more than a shroud.

You reached down to grab his cock, brushing it against your pussy lips. Rubbing his cockhead in between your folds. Breathing heavily, coating the tip with your witness as the pressure builds in your stomach. This all becomes too much for you to endure. To him, the said can be said as silent pleas escaped his lips.

A hiss is let out between clenched teeth as you slowly sat down on him. He groans at the feeling of his length gradually filling you up. Your movements are halted while you inhale and exhale with the dull pain from the stretch. It wasn’t long before the said pain fades away and it morphs into the pleasure you yearned for.

As his hardened cock seeps through your pussy walls. You began to slowly grind yourself against him, slowly circling your hips. Aegon's hand slides through your body all the while he moans loudly, with no shame in the slightest. You can feel every vein on his shift. The squelch of flesh fills the air. Rolling your hips in a way that his cock brushes every inch of your inner walls.

It twitches inside you. With your body arched and head thrown back in pleasure-you are unable to contain the noises that you let out. The aroma of sex fills the spacious chambers. He tries to keep up with you, to try thrusting his hips, but all he could manage is to roam your body from your hips to your tits. Another moan escapes you as he gropes them.

You lean forward. The change of the slight position makes his cock reach further into your core. Your hands grab his shoulders and dig your nails into his skin. The sloppy sounds of you two fucking echo off the walls. Feeling your insides clench around him causes him to groan louder.

Kiss me. You whispered it, breath touching his face. And he obeyed your command. Lips clashing against yours. A kiss filled with passion and desperation. His tongue invades your mouth, entwining and twisting it with yours. He presses you against him, your nipples briefly brushing against his chest.

It leaves you breathless, not in how he seems to inhale your breath, but in the way his arms are tightly wrapped around you as if you were to vanish at any moment. His mouth muffles your gasp as the head of his cock touches that special spot inside of you. And you felt him cry into your mouth, feeling your insides wrap even tighter around him.

Both your lips swollen when you pulled back for a gasp of air. A salvia string between your mouths. Just for Aegon to close the distance once more, a hand on the back of your neck. By now, you are both a moaning mess as you continue riding him much faster than before. The sound of skin slapping against skin identifies each second, your bounces becoming more abrupt.

In an almost scream, you struggle to keep your eyes open with the overwhelming pleasure that washed over you from head to toe. He followed you right after. His body shivering and twitching underneath you. His swollen lips parted in broken moans.

It seems like another bath is needed.

The morning came and instead of the breakfast you thought you’d share with Aegon; it was instead shared with your mother-in-law; the queen. “Has my son been treating you well,” were the first that greeted you as you sipped your tea. You merely nod, setting the said cup of tea on the table. Alicent sighs, "Good." She then makes a brief pause before speaking, "Has he been doing his duty?"

In other words, are you with child. That was the question she wanted to ask. But perhaps it was too forward. As the heat spreads to your skin, you nod again. In all your preparation for marriage, discussing your sex life with your mother-in-law was not one of them.

Then, the door opens. You turn to face the other way. Seeing Aegon. His raised brows and slight widening of the eyes tell you that he didn't anticipate his mother’s presence. His mother asks of his arrival before you do. His eyes remained on your face even when he answered her, “You weren’t at the breakfast table.”

He was waiting for you. You briefly blinked. Aegon was waiting for you. In all your days, it was you who did all the waiting. Every morning. Sometimes he didn’t arrive, and you were left to eat the cold food. Pitying the rest that will be thrown away.

The butterflies flutter in your stomach, but you keep them at bay. Turning your back to him. You had no intention of keeping your hopes up. One night of an intimate moment and a considerate gesture in the morning won’t easily sway you to forget it all. Your heart was in his hand and he threw it to the ground then stumped on it. It still aches from that night of the wedding and seeing him with that damn woman who you were certain was one of the servants.

But he was making it all the harder for you. Gods, have you mentioned how much you hate your tendered heart.

"I have a gift for you." When your eyes caught sight of the necklace in his hands, you couldn't help your awe. Fingers gracing the emerald stones before it’s swept away from your touch. “Let me.” He intends to put it in you, you realize. So you turned as he placed it around your neck. Back in his line of sight, you gave him a smile. Detesting the way your chest tightens when he returns it.

Wearing nothing but the emerald necklace. The prince and you are bathing together. You truly have no idea how the two of you got into this predicament. Though at the moment you are in no mood to fuck, but have you ever known Aegon not to. Pushing against his shoulders. “So what do you want me to do then,” he asks in exasperation, and you couldn't help but raise a brow. Has he ever done anything remotely affectionate for another other than fucking.

Relax, you told him. Just relax. All you got was a blank stare. Heaving a sigh, you turn around, leaning your back against his chest. You sensed his surprise at the act, but he welcomes it. His chin rests on the top of your head, and your lips almost curve upward as his arms awkwardly embrace you. You close your eyes to enjoy the peaceful silence that now permeates the space.

But in the end, Aegon always got what he wanted. Your wet bodies entangled on the sheets soaking it. It feels refreshing not to taste the wine on his tongue. Aegon was rough as he always was. But this time there was something different.

He fucked you like he didn’t just want you. But like he needed you. And when he came. He didn’t move to sleep on the side as he did all those times before. Resting his cheek on your chest with his cock still inside you. Your fingers combed through the strands of his silver hair, receiving a hum that made your skin tingle.

Despite all of your self-talk to the contrary, you held the optimistic belief that the relationship changed. That he changed.

And how could you not, given that Aegon's hand never left yours. Everything you wished at the altar that day finally came to you. The embraces. The kisses not only given in the morning but all throughout the day. A never-ending stream of gifts.

Not to mention his insatiable lust for you. It doesn’t matter the time or if there were others in the room. When Aegon wanted you, there was no stopping him. Even if you were his wife, it was still a scandal. The many scoldings and fights it caused. You promised his mother it will never happen again, only for Aegon to have you break it the same day by having you in the gardens.

There was something you did notice in Aegon. Such as when you tug his hair back and hear a moan. Or how he never moves the hand that wraps itself around his throat. How he hangs on to your every word. But you dare not to mention it.

It was no surprise then when you visited the maester and were informed of your condition. Strangely, his family showed more excitement for your pregnancy than Aegon did. Even his grandfather was oddly proud at the announcement.

But another announcement was heard. The arrival of the princess Rhaenyra and the rest of her family. You only heard rumors. But it seemed they have some semblance, given that Aegon doesn’t seem the slightest bit happy by the news.

It wasn't until suppertime that you got to meet them. As you couldn’t attend the petition. Alicent demanded you must rest for the time being. Aegon tried to insist on staying by your side, but he was compelled to leave, kissing you goodbye before he did. And thank the gods you weren’t permitted to attend as Vaemond’s fate filtered through the castle. Such a sight would not have been something you can stomach.

At suppertime though, you are utterly furious with Aegon. No matter how many times you nudge his feet or whisper for him to stop. He continues his inappropriate remarks to Baela and Jace. You offer an apologetic smile and even move to stand to raise a glass to their upcoming union.

But you assume he got his own taste of medicine when the music began and a hand reached out to you. Looking up to see it's Prince Jacaerys. As soon as you took his hand, you felt a tug on the other. It’s Aegon; giving you a silent command. To refuse. But you simply ignore him, moving to stand.

Jace says a few words, but you can feel Aegon's watchful eyes never leave the two of you, sending blood rushing to your ears. It wasn't until you were a little distance from the table that you gave yourself permission to enjoy the moment.

With your round belly, unfortunately, you were unable to jump, but Jace only gave you a reassuring smile and opted to link your arms together instead.

You have only known him for a brief period of time, but you felt at ease in his presence. He seems to share your love for dancing, which you weren’t able to do as much even at your own wedding. With him, you allowed yourself to smile. To giggle when he whispers a jest in your ear.

But when Aemond gave his speech, that moment of tranquility was tarnished. When Jace goes to punch Aemond and Aegon pushes Luke onto the table. The guards pass you by, moving you aside and your hand protectively reaches for your stomach.

Before Alicent could usher any of you to bed, Aegon has already grabbed your arm, dragging you along. The fury on his face tells you of what to expect later at night. And as rough as he wanted to be, there was the concern of ‘hurting the baby’.

But the following morning, your husband was nowhere to be found.

Matters were made worse when the news of the king’s death was told to you. Standing in front of the green council, it was they who informed you of his passing. Being watched by them, with most of the focus on your round stomach, made you feel uneasy.

When you heard Otto's words, you did not try to conceal your shock. Aegon will become king. But they all swore allegiance to Rhaenyra. She was the king's chosen heir. However, you dared to keep those thoughts to yourself. You knew what it meant. That you'll be made a queen consort. And the child, who the council is already referring to as 'he' will be the heir.

A servant greeted you as soon as you returned to your chambers. But she seemed nervous, her hands clasped together with clothes that appear too big for her. She didn't perform any of her duties; just standing in the center of the room as if she were waiting for you.

Asking of her name, you make your way to sit on the bed. "Mauriel," she responds, voice trembling in unison with her body. Before you can blink, she goes down on her knees. Head pressed to the ground just inches from your feet, choking sobs pierced your ears.

You are at a loss for what to do as you hear her pleas. But at the mention of your husband, your body tenses. Finally, her familiarity dawns on you when she lifts her head. That day when you saw Aegon on top of another woman. It was her. She was indeed a servant.

It was hard to hear her words over her hiccups and sobs. You then saw her hand reach for the bottom of her clothing. And you prayed. Prayed it wasn't what you assumed it to be. But the gods were cruel when you are met at the sight of her round belly.

A hand over your mouth, taking deep breaths to keep your composure. Tears and snot ran down her face. "I tried so hard hiding it my lady, but it gets bigger every day," she cried out. You can only nod along. “I don’t ask much, my lady, only for some money to help me leave”.

As much as you were boiling over with resentment and jealousy. You found it in your heart to pity her.

Before you could even respond, the doors were thrown open. Alicent is there with guards on her side. Maurel's face is seen to be filled with horror. As if she expected them. Despite your protests, they drag her away. I will deal with it, Alicent assures you. “But-” “I will deal with it,” she repeats sternly this time. In no position to fight, you are forced to back down.

You decide to change the topic. "Where is Aegon?" She doesn't respond, and you ask her again. "We're looking for him," was all you got from her before she left. The rest of the guards follow after. Strangely, Ser Cole was not in sight.

When the doors close once more. You are back on the bed. Face covered in your hands, trying to process every overwhelming thing. The worst fucking thing is Aegon was nowhere to be seen. He left you. Abandoned you. You're not sure why it startled you. From the beginning, you vowed to stop yourself from keeping your hopes up, from loving him.

Then again, you don’t know if you wish to see Aegon again. You can still see her. Mauriel on her knees, tears rolling down her cheeks. A sick part of you was relieved that she wanted to leave rather than stay or, worse yet, ask Aegon to be involved in the child's life. As if that will happen. There was also this horrible thought in that you wish Alicent had given her moon tea. It will be a blessing. She is in no position to care for a child.

You were well aware of the rumors before you were wed. The bastards that were in the street of silk. But you assumed they were simply rumors. That he was an honorable prince and such revolting behaviors were not a part of his character.

But you soon come to understand that 'the you' prior to the marriage was not in love with Aegon, but the idea of him. That he was just like all the princes you have read of in your books. He was far from them though, hell even Aemond fit the image better, and that said something. All those thoughts of the many women he has slept with and all the bastards that roamed King's Landing are racing through your mind.

It made you livid, green with envy. And you let it be known when he returned.

Upon his forced return, you weren't allowed to see him. And when you did, he was standing at the opposite end of the Dragon pit's. His family positioned behind you. You stay close by as Ser Cole places the crown, Aegon the conqueror’s crown on his head. Then, in front of him, stands his mother. Kissing him on the forehead.

She then turns to face you. A steward comes from your side bearing another crown on the red cushion. The golden crown carved with rubies—fit for a queen—is taken by Alicent. She places it in your head before giving you a polite kiss on the cheek.

At first, there was no noise from the crowd, but as they began to cheer, it quickly gained momentum and echoed in the pit. As your husband raises the sword to the sky, you watch him soak in all the cheer and praise. Then his hand grabs yours, raising it as the applause continues, but this time for their 'queen'.

Your hands briefly entwined with his before you wrenched it away and forced it back to your side. A clear frown could be seen on his face in response. His daring to wonder of your treatment of him only served to inflame your rage.

When just the two of you were in the chambers. You let him have it. Screaming at him, using every foul word in the book, letting all your frustration seep out of your mouth. The stress finally caught up to you, feeling yourself stop when you began to feel an ache in your stomach.

Apologies were uttered over and over. You wanted to shove the hands that wrapped themselves around you, the face that buried itself in your neck. You had to use all your strength to push him off, and when you did, you weren't prepared to see his heartbroken face.

Heading to leave, your fingers stopped just as they touched the door handle after hearing it. I love you. The words reverberated throughout the chambers. You hated how your body ached for you to turn to him. How those words made your stomach flutter. How long had you been waiting to hear those words. But after what he did, do they really mean anything.

"I love you," he says it again. And this time, you come to face him. Only for him to be standing so close to you. You tried not to falter. Not to show the effect of his words. "You love me?" You ask of it, knowing he'll just repeat it again.

“Then beg,” the words shocked you as much as they did to him. But there was no turning back now. Your face stiffens, taking a bravery gulp before opening your mouth. “Then go down on your knees and beg for my forgiveness.”

At the moment, time seemed to freeze around you. Truthfully, you are unsure of his reaction. But to your amazement, he does it. Eyes never leaving yours as he bends down on his knees, holding you by the waist.

He puts his pride aside as he begs for your forgiveness. As he begs you not to leave him.

You blink for a moment, almost left speechless. And before you were able to realize what you are doing. Your fingers stroked his hair. He now looks at you with such longing and desperation. The fingers then moved to stroke his cheek only for his hand to cover yours. Watching as he places your palm over his mouth, giving it a few quick kisses.

And before you know it. You are pushing his silver locks to devour your aching cunt. Moans carelessly slipping from your lips. His tongue eagerly, lapping against your dripping folds. Eager to satisfy your lust and prove his love. Making such a mess of you as he drinks in your juice, your nectar.

Even with the pleasure enveloping your senses, you are able to speak out the words. “Do you love me?” You ask him yet again. Yes. He spoke it softly. You whimper at the vibration it causes on your sex. “How much,” you say, looking down at him. "More than anything.” There was no hesitation in his words.

More than the crown, you ask. Yes, he answers. More than your family? Yes. More than the wine? Yes. Each time, his response was the same. Even when you ask him this. “More than your whores?” Yes.

Your mind flashes back to Mauriel. Clenching your fists and scowling at the memory of her. So you said the words, without thinking of the repercussions that will follow. “Then be rid of them,” you demand. You groan at the loss of the feeling of his tongue as his face is revealed, your juice seen dripping down his chin.

You took a deep breath, daring to take the risk. "I want every whore you've ever been with to be gone, whether she sucked your cock or had it in her." Just the thought of them seeing his bare boy was enough to make you envious. When your words reach his ears, worry coils in your stomach. Fearing his response.

Much to your relief, with a muttered promise to do so, he returns to dive in between your legs.

Waking up in the morning, your husband was not there. Even more, taken back when Ser Cole appeared at your door. “The king demands your presence,” is all he says before giving you a moment to dress. As you follow him, you ask Ser Cole where the two of you are heading, but he doesn’t respond.

Moving through the hallways, you start to notice the eyes that watched you from every corner. At first, you thought it was your new position. Being the queen of the seven kingdoms. But these weren't the looks of admiration or curiosity. But ones filled with fear, judgment, and even anger.

Seeing Alicent stopped in your tracks. She didn't greet or smile at you, making you feel more uneasy. “Your husband made such a commotion today,” she claims, “his first act as king all done under your name”. You can only stare at her. Utterly unclear as to what she meant. And when she said her final words to you, you were left more bewildered and even hurt. “And to think I once pitied you.”

Then it's as if the prior mentioning of his name summoned his presence. "My wife," Aegon proudly announces, beaming as he rushed to you. Embracing you as his lips met yours. You hear Alicent sigh at the display. The second he pulls away, Aegon drags you along, forcing you to follow him. With Ser Cole not far behind.

Unsure why the two of you are outside the castle. The chilly air has you shivering, wrapping arms around yourself for some warmth. It's when you look near the gates, do you nearly scream in horror.

Wishing for it is one thing. Speaking of it was one thing. But to see it. To have it be fulfilled was another.

Several bodies lay in front of you. Every one of them hanged. Your eyes can see the darkening bruises on their necks, as it’s bent in an inhuman manner. Every one of them was a woman. Their faces unrecognizable. Against your better judgment, you allowed your eyes to wonder until they came across her. A face that you are familiar with. Mauriel.

“I was planning on bringing you their heads, but that would be too much work, wouldn’t it.” You didn’t respond. No matter how much your body cried out for you to turn away from the horrifying scene, your eyes were powerless to do so. You jumped when Aegon drew you close to him, forcing you to look into his face.

“Do you like it?” Gazing into his eyes, you see it-the ferocity-the love they had for you. But you can also make out the madness whirling around. “Yes,” you uttered, so low and shaky. Sure he must not have heard it, but he did. A smile on his face. You let out a faint gasp when feeling him tug the emerald necklace to pull you in for a kiss.

“Let’s have breakfast, shall we? I had them make your favorite.” You could only nod. Doing all you could do not to break down.

#aegon ii targaryen x reader #yandere hotd #hotd x reader #hotd smut #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon x reader #yandere house of the dragon #yandere x reader #asoiaf x reader #yandere asoiaf #x reader #reader insert #yandere smut #smut

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sugar-omi · 3 months

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good lord I was trying to study but out of nowhere I know where🩸this came into my mind:

having a night in at ur grown up house w cove derek and baxter (only dating cove) and everyone gets wasted asf so they sleep over and late at night the other two can hear u and cove in ur bedroom 👀 ykwim?

the smut and angst potential of them getting off to listening to u two from their respective guest rooms and the irony of both ur guests doing it omggggggg 🫣

in the morning neither of them can properly look at u two out of shame and u and cove r just embarrassed cause u think it’s just cause they heard u (and ofc ur only half right)

these ideas fr come to me at the worst time lol

-🗑️

I AM SCREAMING. YOU'RE SO BRILLIANT I CAN'T.... derek would really try not to, but i feel like it'd end up seeping into his dreams and he just can't resist. and baxterrrr omg... he'd be so embarrassed n ashamed, i dont think he'd be able to sleep the rest of the night at all, even once you n cove are done... pls you sent this at the perfect time bc i was about to start writing n i cannot focus until i write this now, i must have this in a fic.. n ik it isn't what you're talking about, but this is also so good n i instantly thought abt this scenario. i will take ANY chance for derek n baxter to fall in love or into bed LOL

tags : NSFW, baxter x derek, one night stand (UNLESS), you and cove drink, auralism*, oral (derek receiving), top/dom baxter, bottom derek, derek has a crush on you/MC, baxter has a thing for both of you or maybe he's just a kinky bastard

*to be aroused by sound. (can be compared with voyeurism)

synopsis : baxter and derek are staying with you for an extended vacation (much needed for both of them.) and while you two have been considerate and lovely hosts, you're a bit loud... not that it's a problem. quite the opposite actually..

imagine baxter is pouring himself a glass of wine, unable to get your and cove's muffled moans out of his head.

he's generous with his pouring, since everyone already had a lot to drink during dinner, being reserved is unnecessary.

baxter tips back his cup, licking his lips, savoring the sweet taste of this wine, humming at the taste. not bad..

he's checking the label, wanting to remember the brand so he can add it to his shelves at home.

"oh."

baxter looks up, tired eyes wide at the sudden guest. he's met with derek's wide eyes, equally tired..

baxter gives a lopsided smile, trying to be friendly with his new friend. he gestures to the barstools across from him, "care to join me?"

derek rubs his neck shyly, "ah, i wouldn't want to impose. i just came for some water.."

baxter shakes his head, leaning back on the island, taking a sip of his wine. if he knew he'd have company, he wouldn't have poured so much at once.

he licks his lips, trying not to eye his glass to see if it looks like an reasonable amount of wine. trying to preserve his put together image is fruitless anyway, baxter is a hot mess walking and you could probably smell his issues all the way from france.

"nonsense, i wouldn't mind company. the best conversations are best shared under the stars, i'd say. although, i won't blame if you're going bak to bed." baxter laughs to himself humorlessly. "probably a better idea than getting drunk again."

derek laughs, "well, if you don't mind the company then.." and goes about grabbing some water before sitting across from baxter, trying to be quiet when he drags out the barstool.

there's a stretch of silence between them, the two of them sipping their drinks and baxter plays off his awkwardness by admiring the photo collage in the hallway, visible through the wide doorway.

baxter turns back to derek, who's holding his water with both hands, dozily looking into the glass. he looks up and is surprised to meet baxter's sharp gaze, but plays it off with a smile.

baxter speaks lazily, his movements languished and his bones heavy. he's feeling warm from the wine, and a bit chatty. "couldn't sleep either, huh?"

derek laughs, "that obvious?"

baxter shrugs, speaking around the lip of his wineglass. "i figured we're in the same boat."

derek stills, his cheeks slowly filling red, and he looks up, trying to figure out if he's trying to say he also heard you and cove doing... it. the other night.

baxter bounces his eyebrows, and that makes derek flush brightly, looking down. "y-yeah, i guess we are.."

he laughs, covering his mouth to muffle the noise.

derek seems to relax a bit at his amusement, and eventually they relax a bit more, and baxter goes on to tell derek more of his wedding horror stories when he asks.

they're laughing, trying to muffle the sound with their hands when they get too loud, and baxter is leaned over the counter, rambling to derek as softly as possible.

baxter signs and shakes his head, a smile still on his lips as he takes another sip. he's definitely getting buzzed again.

and at some point baxter even sits next to him and derek seems to greatly enjoy baxter's open laughter and his wide gestures as he narrates his stories, even throwing up his own chaotic stories about what it was like growing up with his brothers.

"hey.." derek calls, and baxter hums curiously in response. "does that taste good?"

baxter raises his brow but tips his glass towards derek. "it is. it has notes of peach and honey... wanna try?"

derek glances between baxter's eyes and the wine, nodding, taking the glass from his hands and taking a long sip...

baxter's eyes are stuck on derek's lips, his eyes following how his throat bobs when he swallows and his tongue dashes out to lick the wine running down the corner of his lips..

baxter snaps his eyes back towards derek's, who's already looking back at him.

the silence seems long, and the distance between derek and baxter's lips seems even longer, and he feels antsy even though they're both leaning in, their lips meeting in the middle in a soft kiss.

derek deepens the kiss, leaning into baxter, and humming into the kiss when baxter starts rubbing his thigh, his fingers sliding down th fabric of his sweatpants until he's touching his inner thigh, dangerously close to his bulge..

a moan echoes, and baxter and derek break apart, panting and their lips wet and swollen. then they hear it again, and some muffled talking.

they look into each others eyes, unable to move. they're both wide awake now, both because of that hot kiss and the sounds of cove's deep, and futile muffled moans.

their chests rise and fall, tension in the air, mingling with something else...

derek speaks first, taking baxter's hand before he can pull away. "do you... should we go to your room?"

baxter blinks owlishly, shocked and flustered. but really fucking turned on.

"yes, yeah, yeah okay.." he stumbles his words, totally knocked off his feet by the way derek looks at him, his green eyes deep with lust, and the whole turn of events.

derek leads him down the hall, and baxter is grateful he didn't somehow knock over the barstool or the flower vase in the hall.

they walk past your shared bedroom, baxter's designated room for his stay, at the end of the hall.

baxter tries to ignore the way his cock throb when he hears cove curse and growl, "fuck, you're so warm..." he tries not to think about it, but the idea of what you two are getting up to, how you both look and sound, what you're doing to each other...

he's trying not to let his mind run away with him but he's admittedly, a weak man. and so is derek, if the way he clutches his hand tighter and all but shoves baxter through the door and closes the door a bit louder than he should.

you and cove always drown out all other forms of life when you're together, and baxter doubts it's much different in the bedroom, if not "worse."

derek pushes baxter to sit on the bed, standing over him, his legs on either side of baxter's lap and he pulls off his shirt, throwing it on the floor.

baxter licks his lips, his hands sliding up derek's waist and stomach, his body thick and toned with muscles... "goddamn..." baxter exhales, all but drooling at the sight.

derek laughs shyly, lifting his arm to rub his neck (a nervous tick baxter has come to realize) and the muscles in his arm stretches and flex. baxter has a distant thought about derek being able to manhandle him...

"is this okay?" derek asks, suddenly shy now.

baxter nods, leaning in to kiss along derek's bronze stomach, his lips trailing down his happy trail to his bulge. "more than okay.."

baxter tugs on derek's sweatpants, looking up at him. "let me know if you want to stop..."

he tugs down derek's pants and underwear, letting his cock spring free. baxter strokes his cock to full mast, and derek holds onto baxter's hand for support, his other hand coming up to muffle his moan.

baxter wraps his lips around derek's flushed tip, sucking and circling his tongue over the head.

"b-baxter..." derek gasps, his thighs shaking.

baxter takes him deeper down his throat, keeping eye contact as he swallows around his cock, reaching down to palm his own bulge through his satin pajamas.

he groans, the vibrations sending shivers up derek's spine and derek mumbles, his fingers finding their way to baxter's hair, clinging onto the already messy locks.

baxter tears his hand away from his hard-on, to undo the buttons on his pajama shirt, the buttons slipping through his fingers until his shirt is wide open.

"mhm-!" baxter startles, gripping onto derek's thighs, his hips bucking up into his warm mouth.

derek moans shakily, "oh f- i'm sorry. sorry.." he babbles, pushing back baxter's fringe, his thighs twitching and his muscles clenching under baxter's hands.

baxter hums around derek's length, patting his thigh. his tongue drags along the underside of his cock, baxter's lips pulling off him with a pop, his lips wet and puffy.

baxter's sharp, lustful eyes meeting derek's equally horny gaze. derek's flushed cheeks are a feast for baxter's eyes, he can't wait to have him in bed..

"do you.. wanna go further?" baxter asks, his hand making obscene wet noises from all the pre-cum and spit, as he strokes derek's cock in his fist.

derek nods, his throat bobbing as he tries not to fall to his knees or cry out and alert you and cove to what they're doing in here.. "yes, please.."

baxter pulls away, standing up to tug off the rest of his clothes while derek tugs off his pants, almost tripping when the leg gets stuck on his ankle but baxter ignores it since he's not very elegant either, the wine still buzzing through him.

he throws his clothes on the floor, all but throwing himself into the bed with derek, straddling his lap as he captures his lips in a kiss, his tongue slipping past derek's lips, guiding his tongue to move with his own.

derek grips baxter's waist, his hands pulling him down to grind him into his lap, their cocks sliding together.

baxter breaks the kiss, his lips falling to derek's neck...

"cove- cove- cove!" your cry is heard through the wall, followed by muffled moans and whimpers.

"ah!" derek moans, his fingrs digging into the plush of baxter's hips when he bites down on his neck.

"oh- sorry. did i hurt you?" he worries, kissing the area soothingly. he didn't expect you to.. cry out so loudly. not that you aren't allowed to be loud in your own home, or anything like that. he just didn't think you'd sound so hot.

he's trying not to think about if he wishes it was his name on your lips, or what cove is doing to make you call his name so loudly and lewdly...

derek shakes his head, or tries too with baxter under his chin. "i mean, it hurt but.. it wasn't bad..." derek admits shyly.

baxter smiles, pulling off his neck to kiss his lips again, smiling too much to kiss properly but they have all night for that anyway...

he leans over the edge of the bed for his bag, fumbling through the open inner pocket for a condom and lube.

it's not that baxter planned to get laid on this trip, it's just bad to be unprepared.

"do you want to be on top?" baxter inquires, pointing the condom at derek.

he flushes, licking his lips and glancing off to the side. "um.. if you don't mind, you can be on top..."

baxter raises his brows, a blush high on his cheeks.

ohh derek really is interesting.

"not at all." baxter purrs, fixing their position so one of derek's legs is on his shoulder, and the other over his thigh.

he slowly sinks one, then two, then three digits into derek's hole, scissoring his fingers and rubbing derek's thigh soothingly. he's such a mess just from his fingers alone, derek's face half buried in the pillow and his hips bucking up and his thighs shaking.

"that's-" derek pants, swallowing thickly. "that's enough... put it in.. please..." he gasps, peeking at baxter through his lashes.

"fuck..." baxter curses, his stomach dipping with lust.

he fumbles, trying to open the condom but his fingers are covered in lube and he ends up ripping it with his teeth impatiently. baxter rolls it over his length, leaning over to pull derek into a kiss as he sinks into him.

"hmmn!" derek mewls into the kiss, his arms coming to lock around baxter's neck.

baxter slams his hips into derek, a loud slap sounding through the room from baxter's hips meeting his ass. baxter breaks the kiss, hissing.

that was definitely too loud, but it's also been so long since he's been with someone, and derek is so charming, that he's not sure he cares..

derek moans, trying to stifle it by biting his lips.

they pant, letting derek adjust to his length and for them to catch their breath, baxter feels like the air has been knocked out of him with how derek's hot walls are wrapped around him, his hole clenching and flutter around him, trying to take him deeper.

"mn, y/n-" cove voice is muffled, keeping them from hearing the rest of his sentence. although it was probably cut short, if the deep groan they hear through the wall is anything to go by.

baxter pants, "i'm.. i'mma start moving..." he gasps, moving so he's sitting up again, his hand pushing derek's knee up towards his chest.

derek covers his mouth with his hand, baxter's cock dragging so slowly against his walls, his eyes rolling and fluttering shut when his tip bumps against a sensitive spot in his walls, dangerously close to his prostate..

"harder!- ha- oh fuck!" you curse and moan unabashedly loud, followed by your bed frame thumping against the wall.

it quiets down to some creaking, with dull thumps every now and then.

baxter picks up the pace of his thrusts, spurred on by all your sounds from the other room and derek's lewd expressions.

derek whimpers, his moans and cries barely muffled by his hand and when baxter's hips slam into his repeatedly, he can't hold onto his barrage of moans and whines, babbling nonsense.

baxter leans over him, forcing his legs against his chest so he can whisper in derek's ear, stuffing his fingers down derek's throat, his middle and ring fingers pressing on his tongue.

"shh, darling. they'll hear us..." baxter purrs, although he laughs and nods his head to the side, "although, i think being quiet is a bit useless for all of us at this point."

derek whimpers around baxter's fingers, drool pooling in his mouth. he closes his lips around the digits and sucks, swallowing, dragging his tongue along baxter's fingers seductively..

"god." baxter grunts, his face scrunching up in pleasure.

his hips thrust up into derek's g-spot, his thrusts shallow as they both get closer and closer to finishing.

baxter pulls his fingers from derek's lips, a string of spit connecting derek's lips to the digits before it breaks, his hand slipping between their bodies to stroke derek's weeping cock, pre-cum pooling along the valley of his abs...

baxter captures derek in a sloppy kiss, neither of them really trying to hold back their sounds anymore. and from the sounds of it, you and cove aren't worried about being quiet either, your moans more frequent and totally unrestrained.

"i'm gonna-" derek pants, his nails dragging down baxter's shoulder.

"go ahead. cum. cum for me." baxter growls, his hand abusing derek's sensitive tip, making short strokes.

derek's legs shake on either side of him, his eyes rolling as he cums into baxter's hand. baxter groans, his hips stuttering as derek clenched around him, filling the condom.

they melt into each other, their chests rising and falling, and their heavy breathing match.

baxter turns his head to the side, seeing the sky turn from night to early morning..

"i'll.." he pants, pushing himself off derek's chest. "i'll run a bath... wanna join me?"

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