i’ve had this account for a while now and while i love her and all the time i’ve had here… i feel like she’s definitely run her course. so i’m moving blogs and hopefully you’ll all come join me in my new lil era over at @digitalhoe ᢉ𐭩
you can feel his eyes on you, watching you as you lay across his bed on your tummy, flipping through the book in your hands. he'd been staring at you for mintutes now, not saying a word, just watching you as your eyes skim over the black inked letters on the pages.
it was getting to the point where his staring was started to distract you, and he'd start to let out little tiny sighs. you couldn't take it anymore.
"what's the matter?" you say, closing the book but keeping your hand between the pages to keep from losing your spot.
he immedately begins to shake his head, tousled curls bouncing back and forth, "nothing."
he was lying, that much was obvious, but you couldn't be bothered diving into it right now. not when you were on a deadline to finish the book you held, and especially not when you only had a couple of chapters left.
narrowing your eyes, you contineu reading - or at least you try to - but eddie's stare only gets increasingly harder to ignore. his big brown, doe eyes staring at you from across the bed.
"okay, munson. seriously, what do you want?" you flip your book over on the bed now out of frustration and move to sit up on your knees.
"what, am i not allowed to look at you?" he retorts, eyes narrowed, but there's no true malice behind his tone, just pure sarcasm.
this was typical eddie behaviour, all fun and games, and the worst part was that the longer you stared at him and his stupid, big, brown eyes, you could feel your tension resolve. he might've been a pain in the ass, but, oh god, was he your pain in the ass.
"no, it's distracting me!" you grab one of his pillows and hit him with it, earning yourself an exaggerated 'ow' in return.
eddie lets out a huff before looking back at you with that cheek smile you oh so loved, "i'm sorry. i can't help it… you're just too darn pretty."
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𝓭𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 doesn’t like to talk during sex. it makes him feel awkward. he’s all grunts and moans as he likes to put all his focus in touching you. in feeling your skin beneath his hands. the way you’re so soft compared to his calloused and worn palms. the way you curve and arch against him as he envelopes you in his arms. he buries his head in the crook of your neck and breathes in your scent. he loves being close with you. loves finally having someone he can be close with. and he’s wrecked the second he presses inside you. his breaths shaky and low, growing deeper and deeper as he too gets deeper and deeper.
“you know what this skirt does to me, luv,” simon growls lowly in your ear, his front pressed firmly against your back as his hands roam down your thighs, bunching the material up as it reveals your ass and the cute little panties you had on underneath.
“don’t know what you’re talking about” you smirk, playing coy. you knew exactly what you were doing.
“maybe i should remind you then, huh?” he gives you no time to answer as he pushes you down against the kitchen counter, the marble cold against your skin. a stark contrast to the heat coming from simon behind you.
his large hands reach for your panties, pulling them down with ease and exposing your glistening cunt. a groan falls from his lips as he sees this, immediately fighting off the urge to just delve head first into your sweetness.
“so fuckin’ pretty,” he says more to himself than to you.
the sound of him unbuckling his pants fills you with excitement, your core throbbing and waiting to be reunited with his cock. it was all you could think about while he had been away, and you practically go weak in the knees the second he runs himself along your entrance.
“such a needy little thing” he smirks. you can’t see his face but you know, you can tell by the small lip in his tone, that he’s enjoying this - enjoying having you exposed like this - and even more when he hikes up one of your legs.
“god, si. please.” you practically whimper, brows all upturned and eyes half-lidded with desire. you needed him now.
hearing the desperation in your voice is all he needs before pressing his length inside you, both of you letting out a breathy moan as he stretches out your walls and fills you to the brim. he gives you a moment to adjust, to accommodate his girth, as his hand gently runs over your hip as though to give you moral support for the satiable feeling flowing through you.
“that’s my girl,” he leans down, his head pressed against the back of your shoulder. “taking me so well.”
all you can do is nod, your breathing growing heavier as he begins to slowly move. his movements are gentle at first before he finds that perfect rhythm that he knows drives you crazy. the kitchen is all breathy moans and the sound of his hips slapping your ass with each thrust.
“ffuck, si,” you cry out. you could feel his tip rubbing against your insides, pushing you closer and closer to that sweet release.
his nickname falling from your lips is all the motivation he needs to go faster. the sound of his skin hitting yours is almost diabolical, something that only the two of you will ever hear. his mind is fuzzy, nothing but the need to please you filling it.
he can feel you starting to clench around him, your warmth squeezing him as you near your orgasms edge. he can tell by the uneven moans and pants falling from your lips that you’re on the brink of it.
“let go, sweet girl. i’ve got ya.” he encourages, pushing you to your wits end as your orgasm crashes down over you in waves. your body goes stiff, tightening around him and pushing him to his own release inside you, pumping you full of him. “such a good girl. maybe now you’ll think twice before wearin’ that skirt o’yours.”
you simply shake your head, “only gonna make me wear it more.”
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𓏲 ✉️ྀི ׂ 𝓲𝐧 𝔀𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 . . . steve loved watching you, so you give him his own private show !
𝓪𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝔀𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𑄹 fem!reader. kissing. flirting. voyeurism. female masturbation. female orgasm. swearing. dirty talk. talking you through it. praise. suggestive ending. 2.8k words. ꣖ adult content. mdni ꣓
droplets of sweat had gathered on the nape of your neck, pooling in the valley between your breasts, as you danced in the middle of the crowded room. the music was loud, almost too loud, but there was an undeniable electricity in the air. not from the atmosphere or the array of eyes on you from people you had never met. not even the alcohol that coursed through your system, but only between you and him.
him, steve harrington, the only person whose attention truly mattered.
you could feel his deep, lust-filled gaze boring into you from across the room, watching you so intently you were sure you were going to combust. he stood leaning up against the wall in the far corner, one arm raised to steady himself while the other held a cup to his lips. he adorned a recycled halloween costume as robin remained by his side, talking about who knows what, but despite the little nod here and there, all he could focus on was you.
steve loved watching you. he loved watching the way your body moved to the music. he loved watching the way you would meet his gaze, the slightest glint of a smirk tugging at your lips before continuing to pretend that he wasn't even there. he specifically loved watching the way your skirt would hitch up your thighs the same way it would whenever you went into his work.
he was sure he was the reason behind it. no, he knew he was the reason behind it. that you would purposely pull your skirt higher just for him, and even more so when you would bend over in the aisles pretending to look for something on the bottom shelf. being well aware that he was the only one that could see you.
he knew what you were doing - that you knew what you were doing - stringing him along and playing hard to get. you were challenging him. you weren't giving in to him like every other girl that looked his way recently.
you were making him work for it - for you.
except tonight he had other plans.
tonight, he was finally going to get what he wanted.
at least, so he thought.
"listen, i know it was my idea to crash this party, but it's kinda lame," eddie joins you, disrupting your dancing and slowing down your movements. "y'wanna find the others and get out of here?"
eddie was right. the party itself was lame. the only thing giving you any sort of entertainment was the free alcohol and the look on steve's face - steve who had now disappeared from where he stood only a moment ago as you peer over your friend's shoulder.
the munson boy waits for you to answer, your attention now absent from the conversation as you scanned the room rapidly but there was no sign of steve anywhere. he repeats his question, but it's not until he snaps his impatient fingers in your face that you finally return to him.
"c'mon, let's find steve and robin and we'll go back to mine. can finally show you that new riff i learnt on the guitar." he imitates playing his sweetheart, hair bouncing in an unruly mess, as more bystanders begin to stare.
you laugh, giving him a slight nudge, "okay, munson. i'll search upstairs, you search downstairs."
the two of you pan off in different directions, you heading for the staircase by the front door as he began in the kitchen. as you pushed your way through the crowd, weaving yourself to the entryway, you spot robin at the bottom of them, but still no sign of steve.
you call her name, but your voice falls on deaf ears over the music. she twirls around, hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt when she finally spots you and a relieved smile bestows upon her lips.
"we're gonna go back to eddie's. where's steve?" you raise your voice, leaning towards her ear so that she could hear you.
"he went upstairs. something about needing a moment away from the music,” she gestures upstairs where there were far less people. "i'll go get him."
she turns to head up the stairs but your hand catches her arm before she can so much as put her foot on the bottom step, "it's okay, i'll get him. you go find eddie and we'll meet you at his van."
robin nods, though there seems to be a knowing look in her eyes, a hint of a smirk as if there were some obvious secret only you didn't know about, and she traipses off toward the kitchen in search of eddie.
once alone, you take one look up the large staircase and let out a deep breath. this was it, this was the moment you were finally going to tell steve that if he truly wanted you so bad, it was about time he did something about it.
with each step, your heart seems to beat a little bit faster. the top of the stairs growing further away and when you finally get to them, there are only a couple of small groups of people scattered along the balustrade. you weave your way through the crowd once more to find the bathroom and just as you're about to knock, it opens before your hand can graze the wood with your knuckles.
steve stands on the other side, eyes widening when he sees you, but the sight of him causes the breath in your throat to catch. his dishevelled hair, deep pink lips and dark eyes entrapped by a red tinge - he was truly a sight for sore eyes.
"y/n," your name falls off the tip of his tongue like sweet honey, sending an immediate wave of bumps across your skin. "are you okay?" he looks almost concerned, brows furrowing when it takes you a moment to answer.
"uh, yeah. we're going to ditch the party and, um, and..." you pause for a beat, words turning to a jumbled mess inside your head and all the confidence you had tried to bestill had disappeared. "... um, head back to eddie's. we're going to head back to eddie's." you repeat it a second time for safe measure.
he nods, slowly, his eyes purposely falling to your lips as he exhales and leans back against the doorframe, "yeah. i mean, we could do that..." his words are even slower, pulling you in with each syllable. "or... we could talk about what's really going on here?"
this was it - this was the moment he finally did something about it.
"i have no idea what you're talking about." you lift your right shoulder into a shrug, pursing your lips before gazing up at him through your lashes.
his lips part as he leans in closer, his face so close you could feel his alcohol-saturated breath on your cheek. "so, i'm just imagining you pulling up that pretty little skirt of yours on purpose, huh?"
you almost gasp, throat tightening with need. need for him. "apparently... though, it's nice to know you've been thinking about me."
the devilish grin on your face now infuriates him because, once again, you were in control.
a breathy chuckle leaves his lips, fingers raking through his hair, "what am i going to do with you?"
"i don't know. what are you going to do with me?" a moment of realisation passes through his eyes. you want him to do something about it, want him to finally give in to the urges. all this time, he had been waiting, and now, here you were, allowing him to have what had been torturing him.
while his head races with a million thoughts, in reality, only seconds had passed by, but those few seconds were more than enough to build a wall of tension. his gaze falls to your lips once more, and in a heated movement of passion, he finally takes the leap and presses his to them.
soft moans reverberate through his neck, daring to carry you away as your fingers curl through his hair. you press yourself against him, almost knocking him over, but he answers your neediness and pulls you into the bathroom to close the door and lock it.
all the tension, flirty looks and suggestive gestures that had been building up over the past few months had finally started to unravel in a matter of seconds. igniting you both so much so that you were sure to catch fire.
the kisses seem to last forever, despite feeling rushed, and when he starts to trail his lips down the side of your neck, you're left a hot mess as you try to regain your breath. your core was already aching for attention, throbbing within your underwear, as his hands ran rampant all over your body.
he glides his tongue across your skin, hair tickling your face as he begins to suck lightly, "you've no idea what you've done to me. how badly i've wanted this." he mumbles against you, sparking thought in your mind, and at this, you gently push him away and slide yourself back on the counter.
"is that so?" you breathe heavily. "tell me about it."
there's a glint of confusion in his eyes, brows slightly furrowing, as he stands between your legs. you had so much power over him and you planned to keep it that way.
if you gave in to him so easily, all the long months you had spent teasing and hinting at him would've been for nothing. he needed to know that you weren't going to give yourself up to him just because he wanted it - he needed to earn you.
"d'you really want me, harrington?" your words are low, breathy, sending shivers down his spine as he gazes into your eyes.
"fuck," he nods, the word shakily falling from his lips and he swallows hard. "i want you so bad."
your lips quirk up once again, heart beating so fast it was thrumming in your ears. you lean forward, lips barely grazing his, and whisper, "tell me what you want... while you watch me touch myself." before planting your teeth around his bottom lip and tugging on it.
"w-what?" there's a hitch in his voice as you feel yourself growing wet within the confines of your underwear. he's stunned. eyes wide and jaw taut.
"tell me what you want, and i'm yours, but... touch me, and you lose." your words are barely above a whisper but they're enough to send shivers down his body.
his breath catches in his throat, letting out a small gasp, as his dewy brown eyes bore into you once again. only this time, there was determination clouding them. he wanted you. he wanted you so bad, and he was going to do everything he could to get you - to finally feel you.
he opens his mouth to speak but stops when you lean back against the mirror, hitching your skirt up and spreading your legs before him. revealing the black lace underwear you had worn in anticipation. the same pair that he had only ever caught glimpses of.
"what's the matter, harrington? you like watching me... don't you?" you ask, coyly, batting your lashes.
he groans, lulling his head back to reveal his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows once more. you lift a finger to touch the tip of his chin, letting it trail down his chest before landing between your legs. he watches your hand as if his life depended on it.
you slowly trace the edges of your underwear where your core was barely covered. lips poking out around the thin material, gathering up your wetness when your finger starts to rub small circles over the top of them.
"are you wet?" steve asks, and you nod, brows arching from the touch already.
he shuffles nervously on his feet, pulling at the material around his crotch to give himself more growing space, but his eyes never leave you. not for a second. and they only double in size when you finally move your panties to the side, confirming your answer - your sweetness glistening under the dim bathroom glow.
"holy f-fuck, y/n," he retorts with astonishment, almost falling to his knees at the sight of you before him. "you're killing me here."
"tell me more," you press the tips of your fingers to your tongue, collecting the saliva that had gathered, and gently start moving them across your sweet little bundle of nerves.
"you're so fucking pretty, baby. i bet you're so warm too. i bet your pretty little pussy is so fucking warm," his words caress your ears as your movement starts to speed up, building up the sensation in your core. "i want you so bad. i want to feel you wrapped around my cock. every fucking inch of you."
a small chuckle falls from your lips, as you now press your middle finger into your hole. moaning at the feeling and slowly you begin to fuck yourself, all while steve's eyes remain trained on you. catching a glimpse of you fingering yourself but focusing on your facial expressions and the way you're making your own mouth fall open with ecstasy.
"fuck your little hole, baby," he says, almost demandingly, which again makes you want to prove that you were still in control. so you add another finger. "fucking hell, i want to taste you so bad."
"mmm-yeah? you wanna taste me, harrington? you wanna know what my pretty little pussy tastes like?" your words are slightly muffled, as you continue to penetrate yourself. fingers gliding in and out of your goodness with ease, hitting just the right spot as the top of your palm rubs your clit, causing your hips to buck up a little.
his hand involuntarily falls to his crotch, he didn't think you noticed. but it was a little hard not to when he begins palming himself through his pants as his eyes burned with so much desire. desire for you.
you can feel the coil within your core on the verge of breaking, ready to snap as you near your end. the pleasure of it all becoming too much, as your hips buck more rapidly, face contorting and mouth falling agape. you grab onto steve's jacket with your free hand, gripping the material and bringing him closer.
"f-fuck, i'm gonna cum," your breathing is unsteady, all over the place as you get closer, wrapping your arm around steve's head to grab a fistful of his hair. “make me cum, harrington.”
“show me how you cum, baby. show me how pretty you look when you let it all go. you do that and i’m gonna fill you up so good,” his voice is low as he presses his head to yours. “you want me to bury my cock in you, don’t you?”
"mmm- fuck yeah," your moan is cut off by steve's mouth as he presses his lips to yours once more. immediately gliding his tongue across them for permission and you give it to him, letting his tongue enter.
and just like that, you're overcome with stimulation. a wave of sensation coursing through you but steve doesn't pull away, instead, he muffles your cries with kisses as he takes in the sight of you. completely vulnerable as you chase your high. chest rising and falling at a dramatic pace as your hips twitch and buck, eyes glazed over and brows arched. to hear the sweet noises you made, muffled or not.
it was a sight he had only seen once, but, oh boy, did he want to see it again.
"oh, fuck," you sigh, words split by your panting as you try to regain your breath. you still hadn't stopped fingering yourself, only slowed down the movements as your creamy goodness collected along them.
"i'm that good of a kisser, huh?" steve chuckles, staring down at you still slowly pumping your digits into yourself, eyes unwavering from the wetness that covered them.
"whatever makes you sleep better at night," you smirk, finally pulling your fingers from your pussy at the same time someone knocks on the door. "i guess that's our cue to go. eddie and robin will be waiting for us."
you both slide off the counter, your underwear slipping down to your feet as you quickly wash your hands. but rather than pulling them back on when you’re done, you gather them and scrunch them into a ball.
"what are you doing?" steve asks, confused when you pull the pocket of his jacket open and slip them inside.
"think of it as a parting gift," you smile, patting it closed then lean up to place a soft kiss in his lips, "plus, it's easier access for later."
𝓵𝐨𝐨𝐤𝓲𝐧𝐠 𝓯𝐨𝐫 𝓶𝐨𝐫𝐞 .ᐣ library taglist form guidelines
price kissed you hungrily, almost desperately, his moustache tickling your upper lip as his tongue invaded your mouth. he tasted of beer and cigars, a combination you typically weren't fond of, but on him it tasted so good.
you pull away reluctantly, your chest heaving as your breath ran ragged. you needed air but that didn't stop him from continuing his vicious attack on your throat. his lips nipped and sucked at the skin of your neck, hands roaming your inner thighs and pushing up under your skirt.
"darlin', can i touch you here?" he asked as his fingers ghosted over the front of your panties, but going no further until you gave him a small nod of the head.
his fingers danced over your core - soft delicate circles that were so unlike the cold, abrasive man you had grown to know during missions. he was warm, and sweet, and god, he knew what he was doing with his fingers.
"s'that feel good?" he asks, noticing the way your chest was beginning to rise and fall as your breaths grew heavier. you were already sensitive and aching for his touch.
"uh huh," is all you can manage to say, your legs involuntarily spreading a bit and giving him more access. you were a mess. a mess for him.
"that's a good girl," his voice vibrates lowly in your ear before pressing his lips to your neck once more, his tongue gliding over your skin before sucking gently.
his large calloused fingers continue to work you over the thin material. small calculated circles over your bundle of nerves as your arousal began to soak through, an evident dark patch growing. price loved what he was doing to you. that you were so turned on by him and his touch alone.
your breaths began to fall from your sweet lips like music to his ears, as you were fighting the urge to start rutting your hips against his large hand. your head lulled back against the sofa, hands clenching at whatever you could get them on, which just so happened to be his arm.
"oh my-" your body writhes beneath his touch now, moans drilling from you in such an intimately dirty way. price was a goner for you, for the way you were coming undone.
he leans in closer, his forehead against the side of your face, "just like that, darlin'. wanna see you come, yeah? wanna see your pretty little face as i make you come."
you're already lost on the sensations, begging and writhing for that release, and it only takes a few more pressured ministrations for you to fall into the depths of your orgasm. price continues to work you through it, loving the way you tensed and your mouth fell open as you tipped over the edge.
"such a good girl," he smirks, his eyes watching you with so much awe and adoration as your body falls limp against him now, craving his comfort.
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𓏲 ✉️ྀི ׂ 𝓲𝐧 𝔀𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 . . . he believes you’ve changed him for the better and he wouldn’t have it any other way !
𝓪𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝔀𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𑄹 fem!reader. established relationship. petnames. kissing. gift giving. mostly fluff. suggestive ending. based on vday. 1.6k words. ꣖ adult content. mdni ꣓
back in the city, the buzz of celebration was everywhere - couples on dates, shops filled with chocolates and flowers, love songs playing on every radio. but here in his manor, sylus had carved out his own kind of celebration. the lights were dimmed, the night outside giving way to their own private world.
you knew he was going to go overboard, you knew that he was going to spoil you rotten, but most importantly, he had made it ardently clear that there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.
sylus had already spent the day pampering you and sparing nothing in making your time together perfect.
and as you pushed open the doors of his bedroom, you shouldn't have been surprised by the sight before you. it was almost overwhelming, not just the scene unfolding, but the thought, the effort, the care, that he had put into every single detail.
the usually dark and imposing room had been transformed. now bathed with soft candlelight, banishing the shadows with its warm glow. red roses had been placed everywhere, standing in vases, trailing along the walls… their delicate petals scattered across the floor.
a very subtle, romantic music filled the air, the daybed by the large wall-scaled windows laden with all of the gifts he had already given you throughout the day, and his bed - which always looked luxurious by default - had a very peculiar box perched on top of a soft cushion.
"baby, you really didn't have to do all of this," you say, eyes wide and mesmerized by the glowing lights and pretty flowers.
sylus chuckled softly behind you at your awed expression as you took in the sight. you could only imagine how ridiculous you looked, like a deer caught in the headlights or a child in a candy store.
he steps closer, his fingers brushing lightly against your waist as he leans in just enough for you to catch the faint scent of his cologne mixed with something darker, something distinctly him.
his voice is low, a murmur against your ear. "you're right. i didn't have to," a smirk curls at the edge of his lips as he pulls back slightly, red eyes glinting with amusement. "but, kitten, i keep my promises, and i promised i was going to spoil you, did i not?"
his fingers trail up your arm, teasingly slow, before he tugs you gently toward the bed where that box sits. the cushion beneath it is silk - black, of course - and the box itself is sleek, obsidian, with a single red ribbon tied around it.
"open it," he urges, voice dropping into something dangerously soft.
your body obeys without question, not even trying to deny just how under his control you were sometimes. your fingers tremble as they close around the bow, your heart thumping against your chest, anticipation making your senses spiral.
sylus stands beside you, watching closely as you untie the ribbon, your movements almost adoring. the lid of the box opens with a soft click, revealing the contents. the interior is lined with black velvet, and nestled within is a small object.
"a necklace," you breathe. it's a thin silver chain, glinting and delicate, with a single, stunning red gemstone pendant.
you can feel his gaze on you, heavy and intent as you lift out the necklace. it's beautiful - catching the candlelight in a way that's almost magical. he chuckles softly, the sound rich with satisfaction.
he then tugs you towards the large mirror, his fingers brushing against your collarbone and sending a shiver down your spine as he carefully fastens the clasp around your neck. he then presses his head to the side of yours, his eyes roaming over you.
"it's not just any stone either," he murmurs, admiring how the gem dangles against your skin.
"it doesn't look it," you admit, meeting his gaze as your fingers trail up to gently grasp the pendant.
"it's an alexandrite," he says, thumb circling on the nape of your neck, causing you to shiver faintly once more. "do you know its significance?"
you shake your head and he hums softly under his breath, his hand never leaving your skin.
"alexandrite…" he begins, his voice smooth and steady, "… is a stone known for its unique change of colour under different lighting." his gaze flicks to the gemstone, to the way it catches the candlelight, and then back to your face. "in the daylight, it appears to be green or blue. but at night…"
"…it's red."
he nods, the small, satisfied smile growing wider. "yes, in the darker hours, the stone takes on a deep, red hue."
he lets the silence settle for a moment, allowing you to process the information. his thumb has stilled, resting on the soft flesh of your neck, his eyes on your face through the mirror.
"do you know why i chose the stone for you?" he leans in closer, lips close to your ears.
"no… but i'm sure you're about to tell me," you gently tease and watch as he exhales sharply through his nose. it's not quite a laugh, but something close.
"cheeky," he murmurs, though his tone is all fondness.
then, with deliberate slowness, he leans in even more, his lips brushing just below your ear as he speaks, his breath warm against your skin.
"because…" he says, his voice lower. "… just like this stone, you change me."
your breath stutters, heat rushing to your cheeks at his words, at the intimacy of the moment. his lips are close, so close, each syllable sending little sparks through your body.
"and how…" you manage to ask through the sudden dryness in your throat, "do i change you?"
the words have barely left your lips when his hand tightens around your arm and he turns you around to face him now.
his eyes bore into yours, dark and intense, and you feel pinned there, captivated. "you…" he answers, his thumb tracing a path along your jawline. "you make me soft."
the word 'soft' sounds foreign coming from him. he's always been rough around the edges, sharp, dangerous, unyielding. and yet… there's a vulnerability in his gaze when he looks at you. it's like a secret, one reserved solely for you.
"and is that a bad thing?" your voice is so small, so quiet.
he chuckles, shaking his head in mock disbelief. his other hand comes up, cups your face gently as he leans in, almost brushing his nose against yours.
"no…" he whispers, gaze intense and tender at the same time, "god, no. with anyone else, being soft may be seen as a weakness. but not with you."
his thumb brushed over your bottom lip, tracing the contour. his eyes follow the movement, almost like he's memorising every curve. "never with you."
your heart stutters at his words, the tender sincerity of it all touching you in ways you never thought anything ever would. his touch is gentle, as if you were made of glass and he was scared of breaking you. it feels almost surreal, like a dream, but the way his calloused fingers graze your skin, the way he holds you, is as real as it gets.
"sylus…" you murmur, the word almost catching in your throat. the way he's looking at you, the way he's speaking, is making it hard to think, to breathe.
he doesn't let you finish. he doesn't need to. his lips crash against yours in a kiss that steals the breath from your lungs, his hands gripping your waist to pull you flush against him. it's hungry, possessive, yet somehow still achingly tender. when he finally pulls back, just enough to let you gasp for air, his forehead rests against yours, his smirk smug but his voice rough with sincerity.
"shhh… just let me adore you, sweetheart."
and then he's kissing you again, deeper this time, the necklace's gemstone pressed warm between your skin and his chest. it's proof that even the hardest things can change under the right light.
you melt into the kiss, clinging to him like a lifeline, the world outside disappearing under the array of sensations. your fingers grip at his shoulders, his shirt, anything to ground yourself as the kiss deepens.
his hands roam over your back, leaving trails of fire in their wake. one slips beneath the skirt of your dress, his palm flat against your thigh, as he guides you backward until your knees hit the bed and he gently pushes you down.
he follows, pinning you beneath him as he continues the kiss, his body flush against yours. his weight is heavy, but not uncomfortable. if anything, it's reassuring, a reminder that for this moment, you're completely his.
he breaks the kiss, but only to trail his lips down your jawline, your neck, your collarbone. each press of his mouth makes you shiver, your breath coming faster as you arch into him, seeking more contact, more touch, more of him.
"sy…." you pant helplessly, the warmth in your core already consuming you.
his lips ghost over the hollow of your throat - his favourite spot - before he murmurs against your skin. "i know." his hand skims higher up your thigh, fingertips teasing, deliberately slow.
the gemstone dangles between you, catching candlelight as it shifts from red to green in the flickering glow - just like him. hard and ruthless to the world, but unravelling, changing, for you.
𝓭𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 who becomes addicted to eating you out. who needs to taste you on his tongue all day, every day. who worships your thighs, and presses rushed urgent kisses all over them. who absolutely devours you the second his lips and tongue come into contact with your cunt. who pushes his fingers inside you, curling their thickness to just the right spot and flicking his tongue over your clit in a messy rhythm. who loves to make your head lull back with your eyes, watching the way you react to him. who laps up every drop when you come because it's all for him, right?
sitting on 𝓻𝐚𝐟𝐞'𝓼 lap always drives him insane. he loves the way your bum looks, all heart-shaped and cute on top of him, and he always purposely leans back. man-spreading beneath you so that you're more situated on his crotch. he instantly goes fuzzy in the head, and breathes in sharply when you slowly start to roll your hips against him. "fuck, keep doin' that and i'm gonna make a mess," he groans in your ear. you just laugh lowly, knowing that you have him in the palm of your hands, "maybe that's what i want." you continue to move, feeling him grow hard between your legs, "oh, i fucking bet you do." he retorts, a groan coming from the back of his throat. your panties grow wetter and every so often his cock hits your clit, pulling a moan from you. his breath deepens, breaking up the praises he's giving you, his chest rising and falling dramatically. he feels so good, your moisture transferring to his pants as you grind harder on him. it all starts to become too much and he throws his head back, eyes clenched shut as he reaches for anything to grab onto, settling for your hips as you roll yourself against him a few more times. "holy fuck, baby," he exclaims, pants soaking up his mess as he lets it all out.
the first time 𝓼𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 sees your boobs he's over the moon. he's like a child being taken to a candy store; he can't look away, doesn't want to look away. he knew how you felt about your body, how you covered yourself up, but with him... you felt safe. you were wearing a sweater, one of his, and had removed your bra through the sleeve. this amazed steve. it was like witchcraft. watching you take it off without showing so much as a glimpse of skin. he stares, bewildered. he could see how nervous you were, your fingers playing with the hem of the sweater as you try to stall him, but he pulls you close, hands wrapping around your waist, "it's me, baby. it's just me." the sweetness in his voice surely convinces you and matched with the softness of his dewy brown eyes, how could you say no? heaving a sigh, you slowly begin to pull the material up your tummy, revealing more skin than steve had ever really seen of you, and the second your breasts are free, he stiffens in his seat. his eyes are immediately drawn to your nipples, the small cherubs of skin hardening and he swallows hard. his hand instinctively lifts to touch them but he stops before looking to you for confirmation, which you give through a shy nod. his thumb rolls over the bumps, soft against your breasts as he encapsulates them in his hands. "don't know what you were so nervous about, baby" he pulls his gaze away from them to look at you, "they're so pretty."
the smell of breakfast wafting through the house is what stirs you from your sleep, but it's the emptiness of the bed that pushes you to open your eyes. it always felt so big waking up without steve by your side - so lonely - but you knew he was never too far away.
before clambering out to the kitchen you give yourself a once over in the mirror, flattening out your shirt and making sure you looked somewhat decent. you follow the smell of, what you can only assume to be pancakes, until you find him.
and there he stood, in nothing but his blue checkered boxers and a bright purple apron he got you that said ‘world's cutest girlfriend', as he flipped away at the stove. you knew steve could cook - someone had to feed him while his parents were away - but never once had he cooked for you.
it wasn't because he didn't want to, or hadn't offered, you were usually just the one insisting on doing it. of course, he helped from time to time, but you enjoyed cooking for him.
"there she is," he instantly perks up when he sees you enter the room. his posture straightening and smile beaming. "good morning, sleeping beauty."
he stretches out his spare arm to you as you meet his side, pulling you close enough that he could press a kiss to your forehead. you look in the pan to see that you were right for assuming he was making pancakes.
"why didn't you wake me?" you heave a sigh, holding back the urge to yawn, and nuzzle yourself closer into him.
"you looked way too cute all curled up in bed. how was i supposed to justify waking you up?" you hear the chuckle reverberate through his chest and when you look up at him, he's already smiling down at you. "plus, i wanted to make you breakfast for once"
simon walks in one day and hands you a packet of body markers without saying a word. he knows you know what they’re for, saw you watching a video on your phone of another girl colouring in her boyfriends tattoos, and thought it would be a nice surprise. he sinks down on the sofa beside you, pulls his arm out of his hoodie and rolls it into your lap. “‘av at it, luv.” he says. he doesn’t care about what colours you choose or if he appears ‘girly’, all he cares about is that his girl is having fun and seeing the way your eyes light up as you slowly begin to fill in his entirely black inked sleeve with an array of colour warms his heart. he wants to poke fun at the way your tongue sticks out a tiny bit as you concentrate but he doesn’t - he thinks it’s adorable. and once you’re done, it only calls for a shower, which he always brings you along with him.
"promise m’somethin'?" daryl's voice is groggy as the morning sun begins to trickle in through the window. one hand wrapped firmly around your waist as the other runs idle shapes across your face.
you hum in acknowledgment, leaning into his chest, not really wanting to break the silence you had built between you both.
“promise that if anythin’ ever gets real bad, you’ll run.” he doesn’t say it as a question. no. he makes it a statement. he wants you to know how serious he is about it.
you peel your face from his chest to look up at him, his light eyes finding yours immediately in the ill-litted room. there’s a steeliness to them that you’d never seen before, but something far beyond just the depths of his seriousness. there was fear.
“daryl-“ you begin to speak, managing to get nothing out but his name before he shakes his head.
“need ya to promise.” he says it more stern now.
there’s a beat of silence, his eyes scanning your face, trying to gather any information on the answer you’re going to give him. his hope lingers in the air as your fingers run across his skin, like kisses from a ghost, as you reach to touch his cheek.
he instinctively leans into the touch. a fault of his. always craving your touch, no matter the circumstances.
then you shake your head and his heart plummets in his chest. his brain working to come up with a reason but your words overpower his own before he has a chance.
“there’s nothing in this world that will ever make me run anywhere that isn’t straight to you. and you can argue with me all you want, tell me that it’s for my own safety, but i don’t care.”
he’s silent for a second before he speaks, but his voice is small, a whisper in the wind, “please.”
you take in a deep breath, your chest pressed flush to his side as you tangle your fingers with his, “daryl, you can’t ask me to do that.”
“s’why i ain’t askin,” he grumbles, his voice gruff compared to your calm tone. “i need ya safe. i need ya alive.”
you can’t help but stifle a small huff of laughter at his stubbornness, your hand pulling his towards your mouth as you press a soft kiss against his knuckle. you can feel his breathing relax a little at the gesture and you look back up at him in the bed.
“when are you going to get it through your thick skull that this world isn’t worth surviving unless i’m surviving it with you.”
his breathing falters, eyes widened with a mixture of disbelief and desire. he still count fathom the fact that anyone could ever care for him, love him, the way you do, but hearing you say that you wouldn’t want to be in this world if it wasn’t with him… it makes his heart swell and ache at the same time.
“y’can’t think like that,” he shakes his head but it’s you who cuts him off this time, pressing your finger to his mouth.
“i can, and i will,” you nod. “if i lose you… i lose everything. i’m not going to let that willingly happen.”
he doesn’t know how to respond, his words getting caught in his throat. he knew you were stubborn, much like him, but he also knew how devoted you were to those you loved, and it confused him every day how lucky he was that he got to be one of those people.
he just nods, knowing there was no point in arguing, “a’ight. a’ight.” his voice is a shaky, but it doesn’t let up just how affected he was by your words, and he pulls your head back to his chest, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.