#[ when they see how you shine and they raise you up but you've only ever been a symbol to them

[marinehero]

when th freaking uquiz real

[soulwrencher]

how would it taste, and the way you move

summary: ellie takes you back to her place after patrol, letting you take a closer look at her tattoo but you find yourself eating her out instead.

warnings: not proof read, nsfw

"you thought that was off-putting?" you gasp and slowly chuckle at the sight of ellie's forehead forming wrinkles as she raises her eyebrows. "i mean, how would you like it if i went—" she scoots closer, her eyes searching for yours. inhaling sharply, she waits a second, or two, before she wiggles her head like a bobblehead. her mouth is wide open, she's screaming silently, only the air rolling over her tongue is audible.

"no way," you burst out into laughter, and she does too. suddenly the fairy lights over her couch seem much brighter, you notice the warm tones illuminating her face, shining onto the ridges of her scars. "so... how did you like that?" she rubs her shoulder, a scoff escaping underneath her breath.

"can you blame me though? i totally panicked when i saw that crack on your mask," apologetic eyes, how could ellie ever be upset with you? it might've not been the smartest thing to do, screaming at the top of your lungs while you just finished dealing with several clickers. she just thought it was sweet that you cared for her, although anyone would react the same way, but for some reason she likes to read more into your actions. no specific reason, she just had a soft spot for you, that's what the auburn-haired woman would tell herself when she would lay awake at night thinking of you.

"guess i owe you a more throughout explanation then," she says, her mind overly aware of the fact that your shoulders are touching. you tilt your head towards her in anticipation, exposing the skin on your neck. her eyes trace the way the light is illuminating you, from your nose bridge to your jaw, down to your collarbone all the way to your shoulder.

ellie shuts her eyes close once, inhales and exhales deep twice. she watches your eyes wander down to her forearm closely as she rolls up the sleeve to expose her tattoo. you've always been curious about seeing it up close, you couldn't lie about the fact that you thought that it made her insanely attractive. objectively, of course.

"you see this?" her soft tone pulling you out of thought. she tilts her head, eyes lingering on yours. green eyes, you want to get lost in them. you scrunch up your face at that thought, you're not supposed to have thoughts like these, you tell yourself. you squint, trying to see what she's pointing at. "hold up," ellie reaches out for your hand, but she stops herself. "can i?" she asks, you nod.

the second the tip of her fingers touch the back of your hand, it sent shivers all over your skin. your body couldn't deny what your mind has been trying to any longer.

she gently makes you form a fist, pressing every finger of yours down leaving out your index finger. her thumb glides over your palm as she wraps her fingers around your wrist, pulling your hand softly towards her forearm for you to feel. it was mesmerizing watching her put so much care into such a simple action that it made you become self-conscious over the speed of your heartbeat and the heat creeping up your face.

you avert your gaze rapidly towards her tattoo, feeling the textured parts of her skin.

"oh," it escapes your mouth, your eyes widen in embarrassment. you didn't mean to, your mind was racing. "yeah, i was bitten, it looked like shit," she chuckles, her eyes focused on the back of your hand. "but i covered it up, pretty neat, huh?" ellie continues, as she slightly twists her forearm to the left and right underneath the fairy lights. "yeah, you look really good,"

"i do?" ellie blushes. she can't read too much into it, but it's already too late. the words have left your lips already, you can't take it back, you're visibly embarrassed.

but seeing her reaction, seeing her freckles drown in the pink of her cheeks, maybe it wasn't so bad. perhaps you really didn't mind seeing her get all flustered like this over a singular compliment. and while your mind begs you to pull yourself together, you've been dying to know what it felt like to let your guard down for once.

"yeah, i think you look really good," you repeat once more, carefully watching her. "thank you," her voice is low and soft, she can't ignore her racing heart any longer. just a soft spot, but was that really it? why would ellie's heart jump at you finding her decent?

"you're really pretty too," she says, inching a little closer. she holds her breath, anticipating your reaction. but she couldn't see coming that you were reaching for the side of her cheek, cupping her face in your hand. you've been wanting to do this, wanting to close the distance, you wanted her and she did too. and as the fairy lights emit the warmth coming from your bodies, you lose yourself in short, desperate kisses.

her hands searching your body, eyes adoring every inch of your skin, something ellie dreamed of each night she couldn't sleep and every time she's been on patrol with you, she couldn't help but wonder what's been hiding underneath those clothes of yours. undressing you, that's all she could think of and you could see it in her eyes, feel it in the way her fingers dragged over the only skin that was exposed. but you've been craving for her more, so you push her gently against the armrest of the couch, the auburn-haired woman was quivering under your touch already.

"you seem so tough, but i know," you whisper as you gaze down on her. "you know what?" she looks up to you through her lashes, fuck did she look pretty.

"i know how soft you are," you go on, as you play with the rim of her shirt. you feel her skin heat up, she's looking away, inhaling deeply while in thought before her green eyes pierce through you and waver your confidence. "if you start something now," she begins, while adjusting her body to place her veiny hands on your waist. "it's gonna be hard to stop me," she continues, gaze lingering on you. you hold her hands on your waist and move them up to your face, still holding them. you've let your guard down already, and the way she's been looking at you has left you throbbing, so you weren't going to stop here.

"keep up then," you say as you make ellie slightly part her legs to allow space for your knee in between, her soft lips are on yours.

ellie has been dying to know what you've tasted like. but your knee being dangerously close to her pussy was distracting her, she wanted more, she wanted for you to actually touch her. her arms around your neck, you begin to undress her while dragging your lips down her neck all the way to her sternum.

"fuck, they're gorgeous," you exhale as you cup her tits. you squeeze and knead, making her inhale sharply. ellie winces and a little noise escapes her mouth, enough to drive you crazy. you accidentally shove your knee in between her legs as you lean forward to pull down her pants and watch her bite down a moan, fuck, you want to go crazy on her. but you have to hold back, you tell yourself. not until her panties reveal the wet spot that her pants have been hiding.

"is this okay?" you ask, she nods hastily. you tease her swollen lips through the fabric, making her move her hips desperately to feel more. "so you're just gonna tease me?" ellie says breathlessly. you get on your knees, move the fabric to the side and spread her lips, exposing her clit. "you look so pretty like this," you whisper over her clit, making her grab onto your hair. she couldn't take any of this teasing any longer, ellie desperately wanted for you to make her feel good, to eat her out. her clit has been throbbing ever since you've been here, craving your touch.

how could you resist when ellie was this wet for you, when she's been squirming and tugging your hair, you've never seen this side of her. you drag your tongue over her clit, all the way up and then back down, curving your tongue slightly into her hole.

"fuck, more," ellie moans, thighs squeezing your head as she throws back hers, she felt the sensation all over her body. she's so wet, sucking on her clit makes you have to swallow, but you absolutely love the way she tastes. you let your tongue circle around, just a little more.

"please, if you just—" you go right over her cunt, tugging her between your lips, curving your tongue up and down while putting more pressure on her clit. ellie grabs your hair and moves her pelvic floor like crazy, the way you were eating her out makes her feel like she just ascended, she wants to go higher, she wants you to take her there.

her moans and grunts only turn you on more and more. she sounds so pretty that you want to keep her all to yourself but you knew she wasn't yours to have.

"you make me feel so good, please keep going," the auburn-haired woman begs, the desperation oozing out from her voice. it didn't matter if she wasn't yours to have, all that did matter is that she wants you know, she's been screaming and moaning your name, trembling at your touch, rolling her eyes back at the feeling. you're the one in control, and you're surprised she even let you. she might not be yours, but no one knows that ellie enjoys being taken care of, that she enjoy you taking care of her. and so she moans your name as she cums into your mouth, she's been so wet that her juices have covered your whole lower half of your face and you loved every second of it.

you get up but stay close, her eyes are searching for yours. you wrap your arms around her and pull her into a kiss, she looks so pretty like this, illuminated by the lightening. her freckles are so pretty, you don't want to leave yet. but were you ready to be bold?

"you wanna wash up and grab something to eat?" you ask, your voice low, what if she rejected you? a grin spreads over her lips. "we could get high and watch something too," ellie adds as she plays with your hair. "sounds good to me," you say, kissing her cheek.

a/n: hey sorry for lying that i'm gonna drop a part two of something i wrote a month ago im sorry i lie alot but here's reader eating ellie out i hope that's good enough LOL

[pricegouge]

Humor Me (Even When it's Ruining Me)

masterlist | taglist: @pricegouged

babysitter!reader x single dad!price

cw: fem reader. implied age gap. nothing specific beyond reader being legal. alcohol. reader is a brat and john's having a lot of fun with it. inappropriate work flirting lmao. also i beefed john up cause i could. MDNI

this is in response to a prompt but i don't wanna publish the ask until it's all done and up. also, i don't think this is recognizable against what she posted, but i do remember reading @ceilidho 's musings on this exact dynamic forever ago and it poisoned my brain so any similarities are in fact her fault cause she's gotta stop being so brilliant

Banner by @cafekitsune

>Running late but the door's unlocked. Feel free to let yourself in.

You read the text again as you park your car alongside the shiniest Lexus you've ever seen in your life. It rubs you wrong, the whole thing. The triple wide garage and the perfectly manicured lawn, the lack of a formal meeting and now this - 'Come on in and meet my daughter unsupervised for the first time, the door to my aggressively lavish home is unlocked just for you.' 

It had your hackles raised, creeping up the drive with caution. Honestly, if it hadn't been for the Laswells hooking you up with this gig, you probably would've backed right back out just as soon as you'd parked, but they'd never steered you wrong before and you doubted they would start tonight. 

Kate Laswell wouldn't tolerate some kind of pervert, and she definitely wouldn't recommend your services to him. 

The door is indeed unlocked, though you have some difficulty finding it at first. The flow of the walkway leads you right to the paneled door, but it certainly doesn't look very welcoming and at first glance you mistake the recessed entryway for just another confusing design element. But then the pathway runs out, bordering up to a lawn so lush it may as well have been planted with a carpet and you chew your lip, contemplating. For a moment you think to look for a back door, but then you take one step onto the lawn and your boot kicks out from under you, the soil beneath deceptively soaked by the automatic sprinkler no doubt. The fall isn't hard, just enough to plant you on your ass and splash some soil up onto your face. You frown at your dirty hands and then frown even harder when you see the trench your trainer has dug into the beautiful lawn. Standing, you try to wipe your palms on your hips and discover yet more mud so you give up, toeing a hunk of grass back into place in an attempt to cover the divot. 

When you turn back to the house, your brain finally makes sense of the broad bands of wood, the lock, and the handle. You pull open the heavy door with a frustrated sigh, finding a moody foyer - pale flooring contrasting nicely with the glossy black wall which stood across from you, subtle inlets suggesting it hid closet space if only you were clever enough to figure out how to open it. Fucking rich people.

You remove your muddy shoes out of necessity, but you leave them in a dirty pile next to the door and head off in the direction of little kid TV noises with your jean jacket still firmly in place. You've had enough hoity toity doors for one day.

Emily is four, and you think at first that her father must be brave to leave her unsupervised while he gets ready in the other room, but you suppose needs must, and she's well enough behaved to be trusted it seems, if the pristine state of the room is anything to go by. She sits placidly on the floor, playing idly with a pile of HotWheels as she zones out to some bubbly princess show on the screen. She jumps about a foot when you call to her to make yourself known, and then watches warily as you introduce yourself. For a moment you think you'd rather face a parent's scrutiny, her dark eyes so intense on your face you briefly wonder if she's got the shining or something, if maybe she's about to tell you how you die -

And then she points at you with a boxcar accusationally. "Why are you so dirty?"

"Oh," you laugh awkwardly. It's stupid to flounder under a child's gaze but you feel a bit out of your depth already so you do, smearing more mess across your pants when you pat your dirty hands over your thighs. "Took a little tumble outside."

"You look silly. You need to clean up."

"I -. You're right, I do. Where's the bathroom, please?"

But Emily is uninterested in helping you, it seems, instead much more entertained by the vaguely rhythmic chanting of 'dirty girl' she sets into, clamoring to her feet in order to run circles around you, pointing every now and again to make it clear who she's singing about.

You sigh to yourself, hoping against hope that she's not another spoiled rotten client. You're getting real sick of rich people and their spoiled kids, honestly. But you don't bother trying to correct her behavior. You are after all a stranger who just wandered into her home covered in mud. Any adjustments made now likely wouldn't be taken seriously by a child and that's okay, you wouldn't take anyone seriously under those conditions either. So you just grumble good naturedly and break free from her little circle, wandering in the direction of a dark, recessed hall off to your left. 

"The bathroom over here?"

"Dirty girl, messy girl!"

"Good talk," you mutter to yourself, socked feet slipping on the polished floor. You were definitely going to Risky Business the hell out of this place once the little shit had gone to bed. In the privacy the hallway offers, you give it a trial run, grinning like an idiot as you overshoot the first door and sidle back, rapping your knuckles on the frame out of habit. You roll your eyes at yourself for it, knowing full well the only other person home is upstairs getting ready, and push the door open just as someone from within grumbles 'In use!'

It's like you've never seen a man before, the way you stand there and gape. Looking at him now, you're not sure you ever have.

John Price is big. And hairy. And wet. And big, meaty fist so thoroughly swallowing the razor he's pulling up his exposed throat that at first you're unsure if he's just feeling himself up, inspecting the thick cords of his neck, maybe. Shaving cream drips down his bare chest in sticky rivulets, matting the thick pelt to his pecs. Water flows into the runnel between them, chestnut hair darkened by the runoff from his task. It drips down his forearms too, at least as far as it can, the hair there so thick it dams up somewhere around his wrists. He wears a towel slung low on his hips, his muscled belly hanging over the hem. It's tied off on the hip closest to you and hanging on for dear life, the breadth of him testing its capabilities. It gapes open high on his thigh, yet more hair and dense meat on display.

In the overwhelming humidity of the room, each breath feels too heavy to take, like your chest is simply too weak. You want to stammer an apology, but your mouth is suddenly much too dry and it comes out as little more than a series of clicking noises in your throat - 

Which are completely drowned out by the litany of 'dirty girl!'s behind you.

Mr. Price huffs a laugh, razor clattering against the sink as he taps it clean. The noise is muted in the dense air but it's enough to break you of your spell and this time when you apologize, your voice is winded and thin but at least audible. You step back, attempt to duck out, but then the man is turning to face you fully, motioning you closer with the hand that still holds the razor and you've never been one to disobey the people who pay you so you do, careful not to slip on the slick tile.

"Think you need it more than I do," John rumbles, deep voice lilting around the edges as if he's in on some joke that you're not. He nods to the sink he still mostly blocks when you shoot him a confused look, clock the open interest in his gaze.

Right, the mud. Some first impression. "Sorry," you chuckle, trying to make light of it. "I took a little spill in your yard just now. Mr. Price, yes?"

John at least nods and has the decency to look concerned but his niceties end there, still standing much too close as you step forward and run the faucet, getting to work on your hands. You keep your eyes locked on your task, afraid to make eye contact with his reflection in front of you. He's only one man but between the sheer size of him and the mirror, you feel like you've been caged in.

"But you're alright, I hope? Not hurt?"

"Nothing besides my ego." Your laugh is still breathless, nodding down the hall where Emily continues singing. In the reflection, you catch John staring down at you shamelessly and you duck your head again before continuing, "Your daughter has a way with words."

John chuckles, scratches his chest absently. You try not to zero in on the sound of it. "Gets her clever tongue from her mum, I'm afraid."

And maybe it's because you're stupid, or it's because humor's never failed to get you out of a bind before - maybe you just like making things difficult for yourself - whatever the cause, the effect's the same. You're an incorrigible flirt. "Well, don't sell yourself short."

The scratching against John's chest stops. When you look up, ears on fire, you find him staring back at you through the reflection, dark eyes so heavy they're nearly a physical weight. Your pulse thrums, whole body primed for a smart retort, but then Emily is in the door, laughing at her own antics. Her voice is bubbly when she asks if you can order pizza and it's hard to stay mad at her even when she calls you 'messy girl' again.

You start to say yes and then bite your tongue, unsure. You don't care how Mr. Price feels about delivery, honestly, but it's possible Emily has a dairy allergy you don't yet know about. This is why you usually prefer to meet parents ahead of time, but Kate had said the man was much too busy for such a thing, and the way he'd been scrambling for a reliable babysitter after his live-in nanny retired had made you sympathetic (see: very open to accepting clients who could afford live-ins), bending your rules for one of the Laswells' oldest friends. It hadn't seemed like a big deal at the time but now you were being guilted into cheesy comfort food, you find yourself ill-prepared

Thankfully, John takes over. "Not until you learn some manners first, munchkin," he proposes, wetting a hand towel and turning you to face him with a big hand on your shoulder. You frown up at him in confusion but he just ignores you, wiping at your temple with his towel as he continues talking to the toddler behind you. "That's Miss Messy Girl, alright? Only polite."

When he releases you, you glare up at him, no real heat. He smirks, taking the towel to his own face now, wiping excess product off his skin without breaking eye contact. "Now ask nice."

You flounder a moment, at a loss, and then have to resist the urge to kick yourself when Emily takes up the queue instead. Of course he meant his daughter.

"Miss Messy, can we please order pizza?" 

John laughs and suddenly you don't care how Mister Price feels about delivery. And if it turns out Emily can't have it, he can deal with her ensuing meltdown. He's already running late anyway. "Of course we can, sweetie. But please, my name is -." 

"MISS MESSY'S THE BEST!" Emily crows, jumping up and down on the spot. 

***

When he gets out of the bathroom, John teases you right up until the moment he heads out the door that pizza was your idea so you'll have to pay for it. He also throws a stack of flannel and henley at you, tells you to stop tracking mud all over his house or he'll add cleaning to your job description. You tell him you charge extra for that and he gives you a look like he's famished, like you're the first slice of meat he's seen in years.

It only gets worse when you emerge from the bathroom moments later with what can only be his pajamas hanging off you, but he never says anything inappropriate and he keeps his hands to himself. You try not to think about why that disappoints you. 

Resisting the urge to take a big whiff of his thermal is far more difficult. 

(Past the scent of fresh laundry, he smells like cedar and smoke and in the crease of the seams, something muskier lingers. 

You decide you're going to steal it right then.)

He shows you to the laundry room, shuffling a load of brightly colored girl's clothes from the dryer before giving you the rundown on how to use them. You're not sure what about you gives him the idea you don't know how to operate a washer, but you decide not to comment on it when it means him standing too close, the warmth of his body seeping into your back.

The spiel about Emily's schedule and needs is delivered as he shoves his feet into a brown pair of loafers. They match his belt perfectly, visible where he keeps his fitted button up tucked into pressed blue slacks. It's hard to pay attention to what he's saying but you're fairly certain you catch the gist of it. No strawberries or house parties, bed by ten at the latest and only if she's well behaved. He knows you have his number saved because he texted you about your availability this evening earlier in the week, but that doesn't stop him from standing over your shoulder to ensure he's still in there. You think you hear him snort when he sees he's saved as 'Mr. Price' with a money bag emoji but you steadfastly refuse to think too hard about it.

When everything finally meets his expectations, John scoops Emily up in a big bear hug and peppers her in kisses which leave her squealing in ticklish delight.

Emily hangs from him happily, little arms wrapped around his neck as if she'll never let go. You hear him whisper something conspiratorial directly into her ear which makes the girl giggle in delight before shooting you a wink which has your stomach fluttering with a strange mix of excitement and apprehension. Likely, he's just telling her to behave for you and being cheeky about it, but he's far too handsome to be running around winking at young ladies like that and you've half a mind to tell him.

Maybe you'll pencil that in after your sock sliding. He does say you're allowed to text for any reason, after all.

"And I mean it. Don't want to waste my evening there anyway," he grumbles, setting his daughter down. 

"So stay here with me, daddy!" she implores. "I'm much cuter anyway." Little shit even strikes a pose.

John chuckles, hand heavy when he pets her hair. "The company here is much better," he hedges, and for a split second you think you see his eyes flick to you. "But unfortunately a man's gotta endure some boring business dinners from time to time if he wants to get ahead in life."

A beat passes while Emily seems to think that over. John starts his car from his fob while he lets her digest that, the very picture of placating indulgence. Vaguely, you want him to look at you - or through you - like that and then immediately decide that's a desire best left uninspected. 

"You're out every night!" Emily gripes, no real heat. It's the kind of thing you know will bug her later in life but for now she's too busy reveling in all the late night pizza parties and gifts he no doubt showers her with to mask his own guilt.

You've been there before.

"That's true," John allows, brief flick of regret across his face. "Which means you gotta be good for Ms. Messy so she'll come back."

Emily gives you a look as if she's not very excited by that prospect and you're so offended you forget to correct John about your position being regular. 

John laughs when you scoff, a harsh bark that stops your snide remark in its tracks. "Behave, you two," he says by way of farewell. "And try to get along."

Shrugging, Emily bounds away in search of better entertainment. John's big hand is on his ridiculous doorknob as he waves absently and then you're remembering so quickly there's no time to dress up your request when you call after him for pizza money.

A beat passes, Mr. Price blinks at you. You sheepishly tack on a please and he hums, digging in his back pocket for his wallet. "Suppose I can't expect you not to ruin my reputation as a good tipper," he grumbles and you gape when he hands you a crisp hundred note.

"That's way too much," you blurt, not even reaching to take it from him.

John just shrugs, tucks it into the hip pocket of his own pajama pants while you're still stiff as a board, winks as he tells you it's just a tip.

It's only after the door snicks shut on silent hinges behind him that your brain catches up enough to catch his double entendre 

***

Emily is a sweet girl, if a little catty at times but she's endlessly amusing to tease so you're honestly surprised when bedtime sneaks up on you both. Despite your chosen profession, you don't usually get along with kids as well as you do with her. She even carts herself off to bed with little complaint, an absolute unheard of when it comes to first nights with a new family. 

It's how you end up on the couch with too much time to spare, bored in a house that's smarter than you and unsure when you'll be relieved. You flick through the endless list of streaming services briefly, settling on some mindless comedy because you don't want to watch any girly romances and mess up Mr. Price's algorithm. 

Well, the messing it up part sounds endlessly entertaining, but not worth the embarrassment of him knowing the kind of stuff you blubber to at home. 

It's a fine enough distraction until you settle into the couch, the collar of John's shirt riding up until you can comfortably cover your face with it. It still smells like him, enough to deter you from going downstairs and swapping it for your own clothes. It's not a problem until the masculine scent and the boring movie have you reaching for your phone, scrolling through steamy romances until you find something to fantasize about. And even that's not a problem until the author earns their rating, the depiction of the female lead's satisfaction so explicitly rendered it has you rubbing your thighs together, head on a swivel lest you be surprised by a sleepless little girl.

By the time your face feels aflame and your panties feel soaked, you're debating texting John to see if he'd mind you crashing in a guest room when you jump a foot at a noise behind you, turning to find that very same man not two feet behind you.

That fucking door.

"Could've texted," you accuse, and Mr. Price holds up two hands in mock surrender.

"So could've you," he drawls and then smirks at your confused look, drawing in a rather pointed breath through his nose. "Told you to text if you needed help with anything."

It's just subtle enough you're not sure you would have gotten it if not for the graphic descriptions of heady scent your nose had just been stuck in. You stammer something that might be an apology, though you're not entirely sure why. Suddenly you feel like the frog being boiled alive.

He's kind enough not to let you flounder for too long, moving on like he's the picture of innocence with a heavy hand on the back of the couch, muscles of his forearm bunching when he leans over the back of it, just this side of too close. "Everything go okay, then?"

"Yes, Mr. Price," you recite, the fight to keep your legs uncrossed and neutral a conscious thing. You do not need to prove him right by overacting the blushing virgin.

"And Emily behaved?"

"Well," you hedge, voice high and humorous. You're desperate to get to familiar ground and it's the quickest path, unfolding before you well-trod and welcoming. Parents love when you can joke about their kids and John's no exception, eyes crinkling in delight as he conjures up whatever image he has of his daughter in mind.

"She can be a handful," he agrees even though you never said that. "Not so bad you'll refuse me for Wednesday though, I hope?"

You balk. "Wednesday? Day after tomorrow?"

"Aye, sorry for the late notice - again. But you'd be getting out of here a little earlier, at least."

"Mr. Price, I have…" A paper due, a social life that's slowly dying, responsibilities. "I'm busy that night. The Laswells -."

"I've already fixed it with Kate. You can bring Colin here for the evening, Gina will pick him up when she gets off work."

"But… Wait, I can bring him?"

"Well they'll need you for the morning, right? I won't need you until Emily's due back from preschool." He shrugs, the motion carrying him down until he leans both forearms on the back of the couch. "It just makes the most sense."

"But that's clear across town?"

"Oh, I'll pay for your gas, of course."

"Hang on. Am I picking up Emily, too?"

"Oh, would you? Thanks, you're such a dear."

You blink, overwhelmed. This was only supposed to be a one time favor for Kate's friend, you can't juggle school and two part time babysitting gigs. But you don't know how to tell him that in a way Kate hasn't already. "I'm not sure how I feel about watching both kids at once."

The look he gives you is borderline lecherous, though you're unsure why. "I'm sure you can handle it," he rumbles, voice suddenly much deeper. He clears his throat. "And we'd both pay you full rate, of course. Only fair."

You scoff. "Well yeah, I don't offer a group rate." 

Your jaw clicks closed audibly when his gaze turns hungry again. "Our loss."

Swallowing past the nerves in your throat, you eye him over openly. Technically, John hasn't moved any closer but the way he looms over you now feels somehow much more imminent than it had only moments ago; threatens to pin you in place lest you move out from under him. "I have to go get my clothes... I'll think on it?"

John smiles, just slightly forced. "'Course, kiddo. Need me to walk you downstairs? Basement can be a bit scary after dark."

"Um. No. Thanks."

He breaks away when you do, unfolding to his full, impressive height. "I'll be in the kitchen," he offers and then he lets you get away with no further comment.

Outside of Mr. Price's vaguely concerning influence, it's easy to see you'd be stupid not to take the job. You don't like how pushy he seems, but if you've already given up your day to work anyway, it's a no-brainer to take on the second income while you're at it. Besides, the beauty of under the table jobs like this was you could back out any time you wanted so there really wasn't much harm in taking the man who tips delivery drivers one hundred percent on for a few jobs, see how well it panned out for you. Even if you're fairly certain he's flirting.

Like, extremely certain.

But he was still annoying about it and you didn't like being taken advantage of or being teased like that, so you don't feel bad when you leave his comfy henley on under your sweatshirt, march back upstairs with your spoils well hidden.

In the kitchen, John inspects the label of a golden scotch you can't pronounce, thick fingers drumming on the counter silently. His watch catches the pendant light, a thick stripe of silver nestled in his dark hair. He's got his shirt unbuttoned like a whore, just far enough you can see a spot of the matching pelt there, your brain helpfully supplying you with memories of how he'd looked earlier, shirtless and dripping with cream. 

Shaving cream. Dripping with shaving cream.

"Are you old enough to drink?" He asks bluntly, pointing at the matching tumblers before him when all you manage is a blink in response.

"No. No, thank you!" You clarify when the man looks like he's about to choke on his tongue. It's enough to settle your nerves a bit, get your footing back underneath yourself. About time he's the one left floundering. "Sorry, I am old enough, but I gotta drive in a minute here."

John's quick to recover, pouring himself a neat glass as he shrugs. "Could spend the night."

"Well," you hedge, still worrying you're reading too far into all this. If it's too hot in here, you blame the three layers of tops you have on. "Wouldn't want to wear out my welcome. You'll see me again on Wednesday, after all."

His smile is just as honeyed and warm as his drink. "There's a good girl," he rumbles and it's a physical fight not to let your knees buckle when he comes close, another hundred note tucked into your front pocket. 

"That's way too much again, John," you breathe and his grin turns patronizing.

"John, is it?" He makes as if to snatch away the money and you take a step back, out of his range. He just grins at you over the rim of his glass, lets you keep your distance.

"S-sorry, Mr. Price." After a moment's deliberation, you ask if he'd like the money back and he snorts.

"Cute." Placing his drink on the counter with a clatter, he steps close and guides you to the door with a hand on your back. Part of you thinks your dismissal is a bit sudden, but you can't be too upset by it when you just want to hide under a pile of blankets until your nerves settle, maybe replace your pillow case with his shirt. "No, kiddo, I don't want that back. Just teasing. Over tipper, remember?"

"Right. Um. Thank you."

"My pleasure," he says magnanimously, drawing to a stop next to your shoes and pushing them toward you with socked feet. He does nothing to hide his slight distaste at the sight of so much mud and you try not to let shame make you meek again, remembering instead how annoyed you'd been about his stupid door and his stupid lawn when you'd left them there. It's hard to maintain the feeling when he offers to walk you to your car, your weak little thank you just as pathetic as the one that came before.

John's the perfect gentleman, his hand returning to the small of your back as he ushers you down the drive. He tells you to text him when you get home safe and checks for fingers before closing the door. He even watches as you pull out, waving at you happily as you drive off. You spend the whole commute wondering what you've gotten yourself into and if you'll ever be able to look Kate in the eye again if you fuck her friend.

John calls you kiddo again when you text him that you've made it home safe, tells you to sleep well.

In the morning he asks if you've stolen his shirt.

Next>>

[beomcoups]

F.U.C.K.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ex!bf Seungcheol x fem!reader

𝐆����𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, smut, small fluff, lovers to exes au, 18+

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.1k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You've been on and off forever and you couldn't leave him alone if you tried. You have an itch only Seungcheol can scratch.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, oral, missionary, riding, praise, dirty talk, creampie, clit stim, multiple orgasms, a bit of overstimulation, Coups is a lover boi, angsty feelings about the relationship

𝐀𝐍: Thank youuuuu @hobeemin & @wongyuseokie for reading this for me and Beezy you are the best hype woman ever <3. Also thank you @aaagustd for making this sexy ass banner 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: 💿 F.U.C.K- Victoria Monet, Dirty Dancer- Orion Sun, Idea 686- Jayla Darden, Strings- iyla, Behind- Woodz, Forgive Me- Chloe x Halle, Art- Tyla, I Could Imagine- Alina Baraz, Good& Plenty- Alex Isley, Masego and Jack Dine, Skin Tight- Ravyn Lenae Steve Lacy, Idea 683- Jayla Darden, Body and Soul- Emotional Oranges and Biig Piig, Butterflies- Tyla, Between Us- Alina Baraz, Nasty- Tinashe, Under The Moon - Alex Isley, Jack Dine (spotify)

It’s complicated. Your Facebook relationship status has been that way for over a year. If someone asked, you wouldn’t know how to define your relationship with Seungcheol. You can’t say you’re just friends when the love is still there, but you can’t stay together longer to just work. Something happens, and you argue and split up. Months, sometimes years, can go by, and you feel like you’ve finally moved on, but all he has to do is call, or you have an itch that needs scratching, and there he is, ready to make it go away.

He stands there in front of you, his dark hair clipped and trimmed perfectly, highlighting the handsome features on his face: his dark, round eyes, high cheekbones, and plump pink lips. He comes dressed in a simple white tee and sweats, with an overnight bag in hand, as he knows he is staying the night. Seungcheol smirked as he walked in, placing a small kiss on your temple. 

“Well, hello to you too,” you say, shutting the door behind you. You watch him take off his shoes, walk into your living room, and admire the view of the city through your picture windows. You just moved into your high-rise condo a couple of months ago, and your job promotion allows you to level up in life and enjoy nice things for once. Your place looks straight out of a movie, with your tastes added. Your favorite color is blue, and you included it in your decor. 

“You kept the couch?” Seungcheol points at the royal blue sectional sofa with matching gold-trimmed throw pillows you bought from your favorite thrift store. “Yes,” you say proudly. “That couch is my pride and joy. We’ve been through a lot together.” Memories about the many times you spent together on the couch, clothed and unclothed, cloud your mind. He chuckles as you sashay to the kitchen, grabbing a bottled water. You offer him one, and he shakes his head, returning his attention to the city's shining lights. He’s been in your life for five years, meeting at a grocery store with both of your hands on the last bag of cherries. He relented, letting you have them in exchange for your number. You didn’t give it to him, hoping that you would see him again. At the time, you just moved to the city, and if you were meant to meet again, you would give him your number. A couple of weeks later, you did when you went to a birthday dinner with your former roommate. His eyes twinkled when you exchanged glances, and you felt like it was fate.  “You did it,” he felicitates you. “You did everything we talked about doing all those years ago. I’m proud of you.”

You would have late nights with him in your shitty old apartment, eating Chinese takeout in bed and talking about your hopes for the future. Seungcheol wanted to have it all: a nice house, cars, and riches beyond his dreams. All you wanted was a good life. You grew up poor, raised by a single mom who worked two jobs to ensure you had a roof over your head. You understood each other in that way, and it worked between you two for a while… until it didn’t.

“You got your high rise before me,” you appear beside him. “What does it feel like, being the top broker in your firm?”

“It’s nice,” he nods. “It keeps me busy.”

You knew that all too well. One of the reasons you broke up was time. His work felt more important than maintaining a relationship with you. You swear if someone called in the middle of the night, he would answer in a heartbeat. It’s not like you aren’t busy; you work on Wall Street. But you still made time to be with him at all important events and when it mattered most. The energy wasn’t reciprocated.

“I see nothing has changed,” you say, taking a swig of your water.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I think I am ready for it, though.”

“Are you now?”

“Yeah. There is no point in having all of this if there is no one to share it with, right?”

You didn’t have to say anything back because he was right. What is the point of working hard, making more money than your parents could ever dream of, traveling, and having life experiences without having someone to share them with? It also incredibly frustrates you. Why did it take five years for him to get to this point? The back and forth, blocking each other on all accounts. Was it worth it?

You two are silent, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance. His fingers slip in between yours, pulling you closer to him. Just being near him makes your heart skip several beats. No one like him can melt you just by his touch and presence. Yes, he can irritate you to no end, but he also makes your soul smile.

“I missed you,” he says, gazing at you. 

“I know.” 

You kiss him, the magic stirring in your chest as he returns your feelings; sparks all around you two like fireworks. Your hands explore him fervently, pulling off his shirt and throwing it on your couch. He unhooks your bra, helping you out of your shirt and exposing your breasts. He bites his lip as he palms his growing bulge, the very thought of his lips all over you making you hot.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers. 

You take his hand and guide him to your bedroom, climbing over your king-size bed. He follows you closely, his index finger sliding up your thigh. It feels electric, having him touch you again after so long. You have tried moving on, going on dates, and having one-night stands here and there. But deep down, those people weren’t him. Seungcheol knows your body, what makes you tick, your boundaries, and what drives you crazy. It’s exhausting trying to find that chemistry with someone else. Too bad you can’t just make it work. 

He slides your shorts and panties off with one hand, your naked body being illuminated by the moonlight. He notices your sheets, trying to hold it in before succumbing to a belly laugh. 

“Cherry sheets? Really?” He says in between breathes.

“Come on now,” you chuckle. “You know I love my little house on the prairie sheets.” “I swear you were born in the wrong generation,” Seungcheol expresses, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “Yeah, maybe,” you muse over his words. “I’m glad I met you in this lifetime, though.” He admires you, his thumb caressing your cheek before he kisses you again. This time, it’s more heartfelt, your bodies hungry for another as each minute passes. His hand travels down to your inner thighs, spreading your legs apart and slowly entering a digit into your wet core. Seungcheol licks his lips, watching your eyes roll back as you unravel his arms. “Shit,” you moan. “Keep doing it just like that.”

“I’m going to do more than that,” he whispers in your ear. 

Seungcheol was already great with his fingers, slipping one more in you as his tongue played in circles on your neck, your sweet-smelling perfume intoxicating to him. He loves the way your brows furrow when he goes deep, your mind focused on nothing else but cumming all over his hand. You play with your clit, drunk on the pleasure he’s giving you, with your wetness pooling onto your sheets. You two are connected in a way, in your own little bubble surrounded by ecstasy.

“Fuck baby,” you pant as pressure builds up in your stomach. “I’m almost there.” He pulls his fingers out of you quickly, snapping you out of your zone, and you whimper in protest. He aggressively pulls down his pants and briefs, revealing his hardened cock already leaking with precum. He slides down to your entrance, his face nose deep in between your legs before he dives in; his tongue attacks your sweet nectar. Sensational couldn't even begin to describe how you feel. He eats you with an enthusiasm that almost makes you laugh despite the deep pleasure he brings you. “You taste better than I remembered,” he mouths. “Cum for me.”

Your body is at its brink, ready to fall, when Seungcheol slips his fingers in, working together with his tongue to make sure you hit that pool of ecstasy. Your hands grip his hair, and your orgasm hits you like cool water on a warm day. You feel him smirk against your thigh, leaving you with lasting, small kisses before lifting his face and revealing your essence on the lower half. You cover your mouth to hold back your giggles, and he rolls his eyes, leaning over and kissing your lips. “I’m not sorry,” you breathe. “You knew what you were doing.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he smirks. “Especially when I’m going to make you do it again.”

Seungcheol lifts your leg, pulling himself back as he rubs his throbbing dick against your entrance. Your eyes grow wide as he taps your sensitive, swollen clit, a mischievous grin on his face. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says as if reading your thoughts. “I’m going to start slow.” “You don’t want me to blo—” you start to protest. “No, I’ve waited long enough,” his deep and velvety voice serves as a warning. FUCK.

He enters you inch by inch, stretching you out the way you like, your fingers already gripping the sheets. You look at him through a hazy daze, his focus on burying himself deep inside of you, bringing you a deep satisfaction. You enjoy watching his Adam’s apple shift when he moans, his voice barely audible while he dives into you. You remember the first time you slept together; he had your legs over his shoulder, fucking you long and deep on top of your blue couch at your old place. You both didn’t intend for it to happen that way; you were caught up in the highs of seeing a band you both enjoy, and one thing led to another. His dick is long with a bit of a curve, fitting perfectly like your pussy was molded and made for him. No one has even come close. 

“Give it to me,” you breathe. “Please, I need you bad.” Seungcheol loves it when you beg for it, and he obliges, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. Maybe it’s because you love him, but he is the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. The way his hips roll as he snaps into you, watching him come in and out of you with your wetness coating him, turns you on. Your hands grasp his face, your thumb slipping into his mouth as he fucks you silly. You can barely form words in your head, let alone say anything else but “fuck” and “make me cum”. He fucks you in a way that makes you have wet dreams and leaves you with a puddle in your sheets. If he were a Greek god, he would be Eros, the god of love and sex. That’s how bad he has you. “Turn over,” you grit your teeth. You lean up and flip him over, his throbbing cock still inside you as you are on top of him. You let your body take over, riding him while his hands are placed firmly on your breasts. You set the pace, and he follows, a harmonious rhythm between the two of you, your senses heightened to another level. You are on this incredible high, sliding on his shaft while you vigorously play with your clit, ready to cum. “Did you miss this?  He teases you as he grinds harder into you. “Did you miss sitting on this dick until you cum?” You nod fervently, your hand still playing with your clit, and you are ready to explode. 

“Fuck,” he grits his teeth. “I’m close. Let’s come together like we always do.” You erupt, screaming his name while he sloppily pumps into you, his hair sweaty and his succulent lips red from biting. He leans up and kisses you hard, your moans and words of praise swallowed and digested. Whatever you were going to say, he felt it more, your hearts beating in unison powered by your feelings for each other. He talks you through it, helping you come down from your high before he releases his own, spilling into you until he is completely spent. You’ve been on birth control for years, and Seungcheol is the only person you’ve let hit without a condom. It just feels so right with him. You roll off of him, collapsing on your pillow as you try and catch your breath. His breathing is relaxed, and when you gaze at him, his eyes are closed, already half asleep. You attempt to get out of bed, but he grabs your arm, pulling you close to him. 

“Stay,” he kisses your shoulder. “I sleep better when you’re with me.” 

You can’t deny him when he is in this state, pulling on your heartstrings like that. 

“Fine, you win,” you say without much effort. 

Glancing at the time, it’s after 12, and fatigue finally hits you at least. Snuggling into him, you fall into a deep sleep, but not before admitting that you still love him and would do anything for him. 

The sunlight is not kind as it peers through your windows and wakes you up a little after 9. You had forgotten to draw the curtains before you fell asleep, but you didn’t have much energy left after the night you had. You woke him up after three, sucking his cock until he exploded down your throat, and he returned the favor by eating you out until you were ripe from overstimulation. You made such a mess that you had to change your sheets and listen to him teasing you about your “old lady” sheets. Whatever, you liked them.

You rolled over, and Seungcheol was already awake, scrolling through his phone. He notices you and kisses your forehead before removing your blanket and smacking your ass.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he says, leaning back against the headboard.

You chuckle as you get out of bed, grab your silk robe, and walk into the bathroom. You feel sore; last night’s shenanigans are indeed catching up with you. You just want to lay in bed and relax, but you have this nagging feeling in your stomach. You could brush it off and deal with it later, but knowing you, you will overthink, turning it into something it's not. You have to know how he feels.

Finishing up in the bathroom, you leave to find him setting orange juice on your nightstand with a couple of ibuprofen. He is only dressed in his sweats and nothing underneath, your center aching for him despite the tenderness you feel.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, reading your look. You have never had a good poker face.

You sit down on the bed, take your two pills, and wash them down with orange juice. You allow yourself to get your thoughts in order. You're unsure what to say, but you know the conversation needs to be had.

“What are we doing?” you blurt out. “I love you, and you never stopped loving me. Why can’t we just get it right?”

The silence is too deafening for your liking. It would be like you to tear the band-aid off first thing in the morning. But you hate being in the dark, not knowing what the future will hold. You’re not saying that you have to jump the broom, but you have to know if there’s any chance he feels the same way you do.

“I-I-m sorry,” you shake your head. “I shouldn’t have sprung that on you first thing in the morning. Forget I said anything.” 

You attempt to leave the room before Seungcheol catches your arm and motions for you to sit down. Grudgingly, you do, sitting on your ottoman and facing him. “You didn’t even give me a chance to respond,” he complains. “You can’t always assume how I feel is something bad. Give me a chance.” You nod, knowing deep down he is right. “You are right,” He admits. “I love you, and this song and dance we’ve been doing for years is tired. I came to you last night because I missed you and I need you. You’re the only one in my life who has always kept it straight with me, even when you get on my nerves.” You smirk at his comment, knowing it’s true. “But we have also been apart for a long time, and as much as I want to jump back into our usual routine, I recognize we have grown up a bit and need to get to know each other as our different selves.” You nod slowly, mulling over his words, unsure what to say. “I also don’t want to see anyone else,” he breathes. “You are the only person I want to see, to do this with.” He points at the sheets, and you roll your eyes. It would be like him to somehow bridge it back to sex. 

“So…” your voice trails off. “What are we then? We are more than friends but not together? I don’t understand.” “I want to be with you,” he grabs your hands. “If we fight and storm off to our houses, I’d rather it be that then we break up and don’t talk for months at a time. I hate that.” You nod, finally understanding what he is saying. He is scared of the future, just like you are. But in this life, you would rather go through it with him than anyone else. You have too much time and feelings just to throw it away. “Maybe we can try talking to someone about it this time around?” You say. “A therapist or something? I want to be with you, and maybe working through our issues to understand each other better sometimes is what we need.” “Yeah, I’m open to that.” He hugs you, embracing you tightly before leaving sweet kisses on your face. You are deathly ticklish, and he knows it. He moves his kisses elsewhere until you find yourself in your bed, his body towering over yours. He leaves you one more kiss on your lips before laying his head on your chest. “We’re going to be okay,” he whispers.

You look down and smile, caressing the dark stresses in his hair.

“Yeah. We will be.”

[d0rothydraws]

Reader gets attacked on the way home from work late at night.

content: f!reader, violence, possessiveness, murder, blood, after care, fingering, sweet talk, sex.

w/c: 2.2k

Ao3: Here

a/n: I have like 3 other fics im working on, one being where he helps you on your period but apparently thats too soft for my brain because it told me that I needed to write something where Sylus kills for you because I wanted to feel something. Please read the content descriptions, If you aren't comfortable with violence, you can skip to after the break.

It was late, work went longer than expected and you were exhausted. Usually, Sylus would pick you up when it was this late but he had what he called a "non negotiable meeting". He offered to have Luke or Kieran pick you up or order a ride but you refused, stubborn as ever. You were a capable hunter, and besides you've done this walk hundreds of times before. Though, even yet, if Sylus couldn't be there, he did everything in his power to make sure you were safe.

The sound of the mechanical bird's wings was loud in your ears as Mephisto landed on your shoulder, Its eyes shining in the dark, almost like Sylus' himself. "You were waiting." You mumbled as you turned the corner to set off on your journey. Mephisto just turned its head slightly, ruffling its feathers.

A few minutes passed and you heard footsteps behind you. Your shoulders tensed as you put a hand on your gun. You weren't sure what happened, it happened so fast as the steps grew louder, faster. More steps than you could count. An ambush. Your body moved on its own as you turned to try and shoot at one of the men, at any of them. Your gun going off as your body hit the ground. Mephisto flew at them, his razor sharp beak aiming at their eyes. While he did manage to harm one of the attackers, the other two were still surrounding you as the third slapped the crow away.

"What's a pretty little thing doing out this late." One of the men said, pulling a knife out as they watched you try to reach your gun that was just out of arm's reach. Before you could grab your backup plan, the smaller gun Sylus had given you for emergencies, the second man stepped on your hand, making you scream in pain as you were immobilized.

"Eat shit." You hissed, not giving up the fight as you squirmed under them, trying to throw them off of you as the one holding the knife straddled your hips. You spit at him, and in return, he grabbed your jaw. His other hand held the knife against your throat. You refused to show the fear in your eyes as you felt the steel kiss your skin.

"You're too pretty to be using words like that, princess." The man spit. You tried to throw him off of you but the knife pressed harder into your neck. "Keep going and you won't be saying anything soon."

"That fuckin bird got my eye boss! Can't see shit." The third man said, trying to cover his eye to stop the bleeding. The second man spoke up in a mocking tone. "Suck it up, you got another one don't ya? Anyways, ya won't need to see in order to hear the sounds she's gonna make when we-"

The alley filled with black and red smoke. Your heart raced as you heard the sound of Mephisto, and then- "You should know better than to touch what isn't yours." Sylus said calmly, appearing through the smoke as the red and black coils snaked around the men's necks, lifting them in the air. You couldn't move, your body felt paralyzed from the attack. You could only lay there as you watched Sylus approach as the men were raised higher and higher. He looked calm but there was an anger behind those eyes, a fury. Your heart raced, the sounds of the three men that attacked you background noise as your eyes locked with Sylus. Slowly he leaned down to help you up, his touch gentle yet you could feel how tense he was.

One by one the men fell from the sky, each tendril releasing them one by one. As each of the bodies fell from extreme heights, their cries were silenced on impact. Falling to their death efficiently. You didn't see the bodies, barely heard the sound, as Sylus pulled you into his chest, blinding you from the event. You could hear his heart racing, his lips against your ear to cover the sound behind you. "I'm sorry I took so long, sweetie." He said, his voice tense as he rubbed your back slowly as if checking for injuries. "Let's get you cleaned up." He muttered as the coils wrapped around the both of you. It felt surprisingly warm, like a warm gust of summer air. In moments it was as if you were flying, being guided across the city and through the N109 Zone back to his home.

▬ ♦ ▬ ♦ ▬ ♦ ▬

The night was a blur, you felt numb, mentally and physically. Sylus didn't say too much, there was a look in his eye that you have never seen before. His touches were soft as he helped bathe you, cleaning the grime and dirt off of you, paying extra attention to the areas that the men touched as if to replace the memory.

After you were clean, he helped change you. A fresh set of soft pajamas, your favorite cozy fluffy socks to add to it. Slowly, he lead you to the bed. The smell of him filling your senses as you laid down. The images of tonight filled your mind, the faces of the men. How fast everything happened. The feeling of that knife against your throat. Your heart started beating faster as your body tensed slightly.

Strong arms wrapped around you, settling behind you on the bed as he pulled you close against him. He tangled his legs with yours as his hands gently rubbed circles against your skin. His lips against your ear as his words cleared your mind like a prayer.

"It's ok. Nobody will ever touch you again, you're mine. And I'll make sure of that." He whispered, his words sincere as he kissed your ear. "I'll make you forget everything that happened today." He said as his hand dipped under the band of your pajama pants trailing the curve of your hip.

You felt your mind start to melt as you focused on his words, his touch. The smell of sandalwood and bourbon against your nose as the feeling of his hand made you shiver. You felt like you were in his embrace for hours as he whispered into your ear, his hand teasing and grazing your skin gently but with purpose.

His other hand moved under your shirt, trailing up until he reached your chest. Slowly, he rolled one of your nipples between his fingers. His lips moved to your neck, kissing the skin softly before nipping, leaving small red marks down to your shoulder. His hand dipped under the band of your underwear, pads of his fingers brushing against the wetness between your thighs. You gasped softly, a hand moving around to curl into his hair, pulling his lips closer into your skin where he purred in approval.

"That's it kitten, feel every bit of what I do to you." He whispered, voice hot from the feeling of your hand in his hair. "You're doing so well, I love how you shiver when I touch you like this." He said as a finger pushed inside you slowly. Your eyes rolled back as you arched against the hand, moving your hips slightly only for his legs to tighten more, still tangled in yours. "Shh, relax. Don't rush, just enjoy it sweetie."

You felt your body tingle at each touch, each word he spoke into your ear. Your moans became louder, a second finger, and then a third thrusting into you at a slow, deep pace. You gasped his name softly, feeling your core tighten as his thumb brushed against your clit. "That's it sweetie, say my name." His voice practically vibrated in his chest, the praise making you clench around the fingers, earning a soft sound of his own pleasure from him. You could feel how this was affecting him against your back. His pants tight from his cock straining the seam.

You couldn't take it anymore, the feeling of him overwhelmed you. Your body clenched around his hand harder, pulling him closer as his thumb pressed against your clit, the friction much needed as your body tensed, a soft cry of pleasure erupting from your throat as you arched back against his chest.

Gently he pulled his fingers from you and to his lips as he tasted you. A low sound rumbled in his throat at your taste. "You always taste incredible, kitten." He said, his hands wrapping around you again, pulling you close as he nuzzled into your neck.

Your heart pounded, body craving more. You figured he didn't want to push you, considering tonight's events, wanting to focus on what you needed. But what you needed was him. You moved a hand behind you, finding the bulge that had been growing against your back since his touches began. He inhaled a sharp breath, slightly tensing before a soft chuckle tickled your ear. "Are you sure you aren't too tired? Tonight is about you." He said but didn't pull your hand away as you palmed him through his pants making him groan. You turned your body, facing him as you kept one hand on him, feeling him twitch under your hand and the other curled in his hair again. Your lips brushed against his.

"The only thing I want tonight is you." You breathed against his lips before kissing him. In an instant his hands were on you again, his body over you as he returned the kiss. It was slow, passionate. Usually his kisses were rough, fast. But tonight was different. Tonight he could have lost you. And it would have been his fault. He felt emotions he had never felt before as he moved your hands gently away from him, holding your wrists loosely with one hand as he pulled your pants down with the other. You helped kick them off once they got low enough. Pulling back from the kiss as you looked up at him.

After a few more minutes, touches and kisses, his own pants were discarded. He moved your legs onto his shoulders as your body was pulled down the bed, closer to him as he teased your entrance with his cock. You both moaned, shivering at the feeling as you looked up at him. You didn't need to beg, not tonight. He needed it just as much as you.

You felt him enter you, inch by inch as he stretched you. You felt every nerve in your body shoot with that sweet feeling. The stretch of his cock made your mouth open in a needy cry. His eyes watching your face, your reaction to him. It never grew old, seeing you shake in pleasure before he even began. He turned his head, leaving kisses on your calf and knee as his grip tightened around your thighs.

As he began to move your eyes closed, consumed by the pleasure of him. "I wish I could stay like this forever." You moaned, not even thinking as you said it. You didn't care, he felt too good and honestly, your words held truth. He chuckled slightly, the sound strained as he groaned in pleasure as you clenched around him. You felt him twitch inside you at your words, his thrusts getting slightly rougher.

"Keep talking like that kitten and I just might." He said, his voice rough as he lifted your hips slightly, thrusting down into you deeper. You cried out, hands moving to claw the bedsheets. "Seeing you moan under me, all needy. So wet and desperate for me. All mine." He purred as his thrusts got more irregular. Your heart pounded as you heard his words, your mind racing with thoughts and imagery that nearly pushed you over the edge.

His hand moved between your thighs, brushing against your clit again as he kissed your leg again, looking down at you. A thin layer of sweat was on his forehead, his hair clinging to the area. His face was blushed, his eyes glossy and lips parted and swollen. You looked up at him, taking in the sight of him.

You felt him release deep inside you, the feeling sent you over the edge as he fucked you through both of your orgasms. The sound of heavy breath filled the room as he slowly pulled out, your legs feeling numb as he gently laid them down as he climbed back beside you, pulling you into his arms.

His kisses peppered your skin, his hands held you close as he felt you relax against his chest. After a while he would help clean you up again, but for now he wanted to cherish this time with you. There was no rush. And tomorrow? Tomorrow was reserved for him to pamper you no matter what you wanted. He felt guilty for letting what happened happen tonight. He would never tell you, he knew you would know from the extra displays of gifts and affection. But nonetheless, he vowed to never let anything like that happen ever again.

No matter what. 

[scarletlizzard]

Okay so I saw a tik tok and thought I'd be a cute idea if y/n is a physical touch love language person and after being away from Nat for a while due to missions you finally get some time together and y/n manages to get themself under Nat's shirt.

"You know I could just take my shirt off?"

"No its better this way. Keeps the warmth in."

Y/n just peaking up at Nat through the collar of her shirt and just really a cute fluffy moment that maybe Nat thought wasn't going to be at first, but is also totally okay with her little cuddle monster.

Cuddle Monster

Pairing: natasha x reader

A/N: Thanks for the request anon! Here's a short little something, I hope you like it 😊

Your fingers tap eagerly in your lap as you sit on the couch, waiting for your girlfriend to wall through the door at any minute. It had been much too long since you had seen her and especially too long since you had felt her touch.

You knew what her life was, knew that being away from each other was something you would have to get used to. Natasha loved her job, and you loved that about her, how passionate she was about it. But you don't think you'll ever get used to it. Thankfully, she was going to have a few months off, and the two of you would spend every second of it together.

So you stand from the couch and walk around your shared apartment, not so patiently waiting. It's only a moment later you hear the usual squeak of the front door opening, your girlfriends redhead popping in.

You stop in your tracks and watch as she walks in, closing the door behind her and setting a bag down on the floor, looking more tired than ever.

"Miss me, sweetheart?" Natasha asks with a small smirk on her lips, laughing as you run over to her and wrap your arms around her. She kisses your head and pulls you closer into her warm embrace.

"Every time, Nat.. God, I missed you so much," you pout, wanting to feel closer. Her cheek rubs against your forehead, and the comforting smell of her fills your senses as you breathe in. You pull back to see her tired eyes once again, dark circles underneath. Your hand reaches up to hold her face, thumb rubbing gently just above her cheekbones as you give her a worried look.

"I'm okay, malyshka. I promise," she smiles at you and kisses your hand.

"Let's go lay down, huh? I wanna cuddle," you say softly, and she nods, lifting you up and spinning you around. Her lips meet yours in a gentle kiss as she sets you down on your feet.

Your hand slips into hers, and you lead her to the bedroom. The feeling of her caullesed fingers against yours brings a warmth to your chest. The way she held on tightly, intertwining your fingers. You couldn't get enough of her touch.

When you stop by the bed, Nat raises an eyebrow at the cheeky smile you give her. "What are you-?" She chuckles as your hands move to her hips, sliding up underneath her shirt to feel the soft skin of her body. You feel the muscles in her stomach flex at your cold touch.

You practically see the shine in her green eyes as you remove your hands from her, lifting your sweatshirt over your head. But before she can touch you, your hands are back under her shirt.

"Malyshka..." Nat mutters under her breath, chuckling as your hands stretch out her shirt. Before she can realize what's happening, you've maneuvered yourself underneath the loose material of her shirt.

You sigh at the feeling of your skin against yours, the way you practically melt into her embrace as her arms move to envelope you.

"You know I could just take off my shirt?" She whispers, you see the smirk on her face as you peak your head out from the collar of her shirt.

"No it's better this way.. keeps the warmth in," you sigh again and rest your face against her, nuzzling yourself into her neck, and placing a soft kiss there. Your hands run across her back, up and down her spine, feeling every inch of skin.

Natasha smiles at the feeling and only holds you tighter. She lets her hands do the same, showering your rosey cheeks with kisses.

"You know, when I said we could share clothes, this isn't exactly what I had in mind." You feel a rumble from her chest as she chuckles, and your heart swells. You bite down playfully against her neck and laugh along with her.

"Shut up and hold me," you mumble with a wide smile on your face, loving the physical attention she happily gave you.

"That's all I want, honey," Natasha whispers and sighs happily that she was finally home with you. She loved how touchy you were, how you craved her touch. Nat places a sweet kiss on your forehead as you squeeze her tighter.

"Alright, my little cuddle monster, how about we get changed and climb into bed?" She asks, feeling more at home than ever when she sees the love in your eyes and smile on your lips as you look up to her.

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 7 || The Sweet Moments

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, & lots of fluff.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3.3k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——THE NEXT MORNING, you wake up wrapped in a warm embrace. Snuggled up under a thick blanket, you stir awake and notice that you've got Gojo's arm around your waist.

You don't remember how exactly you got like this but, you're not really complaining. There's sunlight peaking through some nearby curtains, the shine leaving a stripe of light through the room.

Carefully, you raise your hand to rub your eyes as you let out a long yawn. Gojo's light snoring can be heard right behind you but, it's oddly comforting. After a minute or two of fully waking yourself up, you spot your phone on the nearby nightstand.

With no idea how it ended up there, you slowly slide out of Gojo's hold slightly to grab the device. Once it's in your hands, the first notification you see is a deposit of two thousand USD deposited into one of your accounts.

Well, at least Gojo isn't flakey with paying you. A little hum leaves you in reaction to the notification and just as you're about to unlock your phone and tend to other things, Gojo's arm gives your waist a little tug.

You turn your head back to him, still sitting halfway up. He's still asleep but he clearly wants you to come back to him. With that in mind, you turn back and move to put your phone back.

The very second your phone is placed back down, Gojo pulls you, and your back is quickly pressed against his hard chest. "Stop movin'." Gojo groans so lowly that your heart skips a beat and you nearly smile.

His voice was so low, so sleepy, and even a little groggy due to his sleepiness but that only made the sound of it sexy in your eyes. You chuckle at his words and purposefully move, this time to turn around and face him.

It was a little difficult to move in his hold but you manage. Once you're facing him you start admiring his resting face.

He looks so... peaceful. Gojo's skin is so clear that it makes you jealous, his eyelashes are so long and pretty-- coated with a bright white shade that only makes them even more mesmerizing to look at and despite his sleeping, his jawline is as sharp as ever.

Unconsciously, you push your head forward and gently kiss along that sharp jawline of his. You're not sure why you did it but it was as though his perfect looks were tempting you to do so.

At first, Gojo doesn't move. That makes you more comfortable as you continue with your kisses. It's peck after peck, each one softer than the last. None of them wake him up though.

Instead, what actually wakes the man is when your chest presses into his. Like the last time you were with each other, you ended up in his shirt. Gojo slept without one so he feels the warmth of your breasts press into his abs as you start kissing underneath his jaw.

Gojo feels like he is about to lose his mind when he realizes you're kissing on him. "Well, isn't this a pleasant way to wake me up..." He hums, his deep voice startling you and causing you to freeze entirely.

His hand moves to rub on the side of your thigh, "Don't stop," He whispers.

You hesitate but eventually, you start back up again with the kisses. Now, Gojo hums with every other kiss he feels. Even that sounded sexy to you. All while his hand gently caressed your leg. Neither of you understood the comfort you found in your actions but it continues for a few minutes.

A core-throbbing groan leaves Gojo as you get to his neck and suck on his skin softly. The sound is then followed by a little chuckle, "Alright, alright, stop." He requests.

You give him one last peck and then grin, "Why?"

"Someone else is startin' to wake up," Gojo says.

You furrow your brows and pull away from him so that you can look at his face. Gojo shifts so that he can look down at you. "Someone else...?" You question innocently.

Gojo lets out an amused scoff, "How are you so innocent? I don't get it."

"Innocent? I'm not..." You frown for a second before you figure out what he meant, "O-Oh!"

The man smiles at you, "So cute."

"Shut up."

"Come shut me up, pretty girl." He purrs.

You roll your eyes, "We're not doing this, Satoru."

He inches closer to you, "You started thisss."

"I made a mistake."

"A good one."

"Bad one." You correct.

Gojo chuckles sleepily again and gives your thigh a light squeeze. "C'mon just one kiss." He suggests.

"Ew, no." Your face scrunches up, "You haven't even brushed your teeth yet."

"So?"

You scoff, "So, that's nasty, idiot."

"You didn't brush your teeth either...." Gojo argues as he slowly puts his face closer to yours.

"Which is why I don't want to kiss you."

"But I wanna kiss you." He whines, sounding almost like a child.

"Oh well, go brush your teeth first." You say sternly.

Gojo perks up a little, "Then I can have a kiss?"

Taking a second to respond, purposefully building up the man's anticipation before saying, "Maybe."

That's all he needed to hear before he let go of you and rolled out the bed. You chuckle to yourself as you watch him rush to his bathroom. The sound of water and him grabbing his toothbrush can be heard, his eagerness is obvious with the slight clattering you hear.

Slowly, you prop yourself up on one arm and wait on him. You even count how long he takes just to tease him about being so needy when he comes back.

Gojo makes sure to brush his teeth and tongue nice and well as fast as he can. When he's done, you hear him swish some mouthwash into his mouth, an obnoxiously loud gargling noise following-- he wanted to make sure you heard him cleaning his mouth out.

After that, you hear him spit it all back into the sink and then dry his mouth. The water shuts off and Gojo moves to stand in the bathroom doorway, pretty eyes glued to you in his bed.

He flashes you a pearly white smile from across the room, "See? All clean."

You ignore his smile, your eyes dropping to his heavenly body shape. No seriously, with the way the light was shining into the room-- it hit Gojo's body perfectly. He almost looked like an angel standing there. With no shirt, his abs were perfectly revealed to you.

Gojo notices where your gaze has gone and looks down at himself. "Y'know, if you take a picture it'll last longer."

"You're so corny." You say jokingly.

He's still smiling at you, "I'm serious. Here, I'll even pose for ya'." Gojo responds playfully.

You thought he was just joking but when the man suddenly leans his body to the right, resting against the doorframe of his bathroom, you realize he was serious. The crazy part is that he doesn't even look bad. He literally looks like he could be a damn fitness model.

"Okay... you're not feeling this one so what if I..." Gojo trails off as he pushes off the doorframe and turns around. He rolls his shoulders back and all his muscles flex, just for you. He looks over his shoulder at you, "How's this?"

"You look stupid." You lie, knowing damn well that you're simply gawking at the little show he's giving you right now.

"Awh man... Okay okay, how about this?" Gojo turns his body about halfway around, moving to flex the muscles in one of his arms and contorting himself so that he literally looks like a Greek god.

You chuckle at him, "Alright Zeus, I think I get it."

He laughs in return. "Zeus? Ugh, no that's not what I was going for here."

Gojo then moves again. One arm goes up against the doorframe and he moves his other hand down into the pocket of his sweats, tugging the item down a little to reveal his v-line to you. After which, he looks up at you and his gaze is intentionally lustful.

He was... smoldering at you. Gojo was smoldering at you and it was by far the funniest thing you'd ever laid your eyes on.

"What the hell?" You chuckled, "Okay first off, why are you making that face? It's not cute. Secondly..." Your expression sinks a little, "Why is your waist literally more snatched than mine?"

Gojo starts laughing too as he straightens himself up. "Okay, so that's a no on the facial expression... hater..." He pouts, "And if you wanna get your waist like mine then just go to the gym, baby." He advises cheekily.

You blink.

Gojo's quick to clarify his statement, "Not that there's anything wrong with your body now." He sighs, then he bites his bottom lip, "I actually think you're sexy just the way you are."

"Is sexy the only compliment you'll ever have for me...?"

"I-," He sighs. "Beautiful. Stunning. Gorgeous. Lovely. Amazing. Appealing. Attractive. Hot. Cute. Outstanding. Phenomenal. Pretty-"

"Okay, you can stop." You say as you laugh at him again.

"Nono, I can keep going actually." Gojo challenges as he starts walking over to you.

"I don't want you to, I think I get it-- you like my body." You say with a big smile on your face.

Gojo makes his way over to the bed and leans over toward you, his hands holding him up over the mattress. "Like might be an understatement." He hums.

"Really?" You ask with raised eyebrows.

One of his hands goes to your legs and he suddenly tugs you across the bed and closer to him. "Yes, really. Are you still unaware of what you do to me, sweetheart?"

"I mean, after that time you came on my face... I think I have an idea." You say, mocking him with a scoff.

Gojo tilts his head, "I could cum just thinking about you, y'know."

Your eyes widen, "Satoru that's gross."

"I have before, actually." He corrects.

"You're so nasty." You say to him.

He only smiles at your words, "I'm just being honest."

"Too honest."

"Can I have that kiss now?" Gojo requests, completely changing the subject.

Your face goes straight. "No."

"What, why? I brushed my teeth!" He urges.

"I didn't brush mine."

"I don't care," Gojo argues with a shrug.

"Well," You raise one arm and push him back a little before turning yourself over and crawling to the other side of the bed to get away from him. "I do."

Gojo groans loudly and reaches for you again, "C'mon it's just one kisssss." He pleads.

His hand nearly grabs your leg but you roll your body away, "It's never just one kiss with you, Satoru." You huff, nearing the opposing edge of the bed.

You feel a dip in the mattress as he props his knee up on it and tries to reach you again. This time, you roll over and accidentally fall off the bed with a thud. Gojo's hand goes to his mouth to stop himself from laughing at you.

"Are you..." He snickers, "Are you okay over there?"

You sigh, "No, I only fell because you wouldn't leave me alone."

"I just wanted a kiss."

"Okay, get one later."

Gojo starts crawling over his bed, his head soon popping up in your line of vision as he peeks over the edge to look at you. "One kiss and then you can go brush your teeth." He suggests.

"You're disgusting." You say to him.

You then stand yourself up and nearly yelp as the man playfully tries to grab at you again. After which, you sprint around the bed and toward the bathroom, having Gojo literally chase you across the room until you get there.

You just barely made it into the bathroom before he caught you, slamming the door in his face and quickly locking it before he could enter. "Something is wrong with you," You huff.

Gojo is heard chuckling at you, "Just let me in."

"No, lemme use the bathroom in peace."

"You don't even have a toothbrush."

For a second, you get quiet. In that time you hear Gojo snickering again and you realize he's just trying to convince you to let him in.

You move to use the toilet and glance at the nearby counter as you do so, quickly spotting a pack of new toothbrushes lying on the counter. A smile graces your face, "Looks like I have a whole pack of 'em." You argue back to Gojo.

A soft thump is heard against the door as Gojo rests his forehead there. "Those aren't for you..." He lies.

"Then who are they for?"

"Uhhhh... I use a different toothbrush for each tooth." He replies.

You're heard laughing while the toilet flushes. "Then why is the pack unopened...?"

"Uhm..." He hums, smiling at the entirety of this conversation before saying, "Y'know, you ask too many questions."

"Do I?"

"Oh look, another one."

"I did that on purpose." You say as you start washing your hands.

Gojo sighs loudly, "I have to pee."

"Liar."

"I'm serioussss I meant to when I first went in there but I never did." He explains. You then hear him toying with the doorknob. "C'mon, let me innn."

You move to grab one of the new toothbrushes and begin brushing your teeth, uttering a quick, "Hold it." before you do so.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The shadow of his body standing outside the door remained for a few minutes while you got yourself situated but he eventually turned and walked away. Followed by that was the sound of his phone as he distracted himself by scrolling through social media.

You cleaned your mouth out and even washed your face with a spare towel, unlocking the bathroom door and only peeking your head out afterward.

Gojo is now sitting on his bed, legs spread, with his phone held down as he scrolls through it. When the door opens, you notice he's nodding his head and smiling to himself. The sound of him humming the chorus of the song Hey Daddy by Usher can be heard and you can't help but giggle at the man.

Gojo realizes he's being watched and pauses his humming, looking from his phone to see you staring at him.

"Are you... listening to Usher right now?"

"No..." He mumbles innocently.

"Really?" You say, an eyebrow-raising. "Cause it sounded like you were humming one of his songs..."

"Hey, it's not my fault the damn thing is all over my for you page..." Gojo says with a sigh.

You smirk, "Well, what are the videos on your for you page...?" You ask with an accusing look in your eyes.

"N-Nothing dirty." Gojo stammers, clearly embarrassed by whatever it is he was watching.

"Then what?" You question further. You then move to open the door and lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms underneath your chest as you look at him.

Gojo glances down at his phone for a second and then back up to you, "Would you believe me if I said I was pretty popular online?" He asks almost shyly.

Both your eyebrows go up in dramatic surprise. Has he seen himself? Of course, you believe him. "Oh my god, are you??" You say playfully, clearly playing dumb with the man.

He scratches the back of his neck, "A bit, yeah."

Your head tilts and your smile is continuous, "Okay, and what does that have to do with the song, Satoru...?"

"Uhm... I get a lot of uh, fan edits..." He mumbles.

Why is he so embarrassed by it? Maybe because he was caught watching them and smiling at them? Either way, the pouty expression on his face and the way those blue eyes of his keep glancing away from you make him absolutely adorable.

"Ohhh, and you like watching them?" You continue to tease.

His shoulders drop and he sighs, "Yeah, I do... Listen, if you had a bunch of people making edits of you, you'd watch them too."

You nod, "Yeah, I would."

Gojo than stands up, "Plus, my... 'fan group' if you will, kinda made that song my... theme? I dunno, I just find it entertaining."

"Fan group or fan girls?"

"It's not just women, sweetheart." He hums, slowly walking toward you.

You smile at him, "Aw, that's actually kinda cool."

"Think so?"

"Yeah," You nod, "But the song choice is uh..." Your eyes widen and you slowly look off to the side.

"Is what?" Gojo questions, seeming almost offended.

"I dunno. It's just an interesting song to make your," You raise your hands to do air-quotation marks. "Theme." You say.

Gojo gestures his hands out in a shrug, "How?"

"Daddy's home? Seriously?"

"Daddy is home." He says and you visibly cringe at him.

Your head is shaking in disapproval, "Never say that again."

Gojo's made his way up to you and he leans down to your eye level, "I can't call myself Daddy?"

"No, it's cringy."

"But the song is catchy and it's true...?"

"True?" You repeat, confused by his claim.

"Yeah, cause' when I walk in all I that wanna hear you say isss..." He sings the song out, trying to get you to finish the lyric for him.

You give him a blank stare, "You'd have to pay me a million dollars to ever refer to you as Daddy."

His head tilts and his smile hasn't disappeared since he got close to you, "Is that a promise?"

"Eh? Are you really gonna pay me a million??"

"If you call me Daddy then, yeah."

You stare at him and he stares at you.

He doesn't look like he's joking.

"You have terrible financial priorities." You say with a scoff.

Gojo chuckles, "Do I?"

"Yes, yes you do."

"I meannnn, you could just call me Daddy for freeeeee." He drags out, slowly inching closer to you.

You raise a hand and palm his face, mushing him back away from you. "I'd rather trip in front of a group of hot people."

"Just one time?" He muffles out from behind your hand.

"No."

"Pleaaaase?" Gojo begs.

Your eyes roll, "No."

"But-"

"No Satoru. Just, no." You say firmly.

Gojo grabs ahold of your wrist and keeps your hand in place as he licks your palm. You flinch and your eyebrows furrow before he moves away from the palm of your hand and starts kissing all over it.

"You're so..." He whispers to you in between kissing your hand, "...mean to me."

"I have a feeling you like me that way." You sigh, watching and not even bothering to try to push him away from his actions.

Gojo kisses across your knuckles and meets your gaze, "Sometimes." He admits.

He then releases your hand and swiftly moves to wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you up against him. "Anyways though, I can have my kiss now, right?"

"Thought you had to pee?" You ask, genuinely concerned.

"...I lied." He says with a shrug.

"I knew it."

"Now can I please, please, pleaaaaase have that kiss now?"

You find yourself smiling up at him, "Beg a little more and maybe I'll say yes."

Gojo stares down at you and he snakes another arm around your waist. Then, he leans toward you and his gaze is on your lips, "Please?"

That does it for you. You finally give and and push up on your toes to kiss him. His breath is all minty and you can tell he wasn't playing about cleaning his mouth for you.

Your arms are quick to drape around his neck and surprisingly, Gojo moves to pick you up in his arms to carefully carry you away.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

??? ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[irisintheafterglow]

it's fall so it's basically winter so you know what that means: hockey player!satoru !!!!

it should be a crime to look that stunning after running around with a stick for an hour.

"hey, gorgeous. you come here often?"

"a decade later and you still don't have any game. i can't say i'm surprised," you reply, only to find his grin growing wider. you hope he can't tell how your face feels like it's set on fire or that your brain short-circuited when he looked for you after his game. he's still slightly sweaty coming out of the locker room and it makes your pulse skip. distressingly, he's the only guy you can think of who can undo you with just a hoodie and sweatpants; even your legs were starting to give out a little bit when he got closer. "great game, by the way. do you always strive to piss off the opposing team that much?"

"only when i want to impress someone in the stands," he says in a low tone that sends goosebumps over your arms, even under your sweater. though unexpected, you weren't shocked when he mimed yawning or sleeping after scoring a goal that looked like he was playing against toddlers. when you see him, his eyes are the brightest you've ever seen, shining with pride and something like mischief like he was planning something you had no idea about. "you see how many goals i made?"

"how could i not, with the way you were pointing at me after every one?" his tongue absentmindedly runs over his top lip and it takes all of your will not to stare, not with him this close. on the bleachers, it was deceptively easy to watch the muscles in his legs propel him across the ice. you also got away with staring at his self-assured smirk when suguru gave him a pass that the other team couldn't see coming. most of the time, they never saw him coming. his speed across the ice was nothing like the unsteady marches you saw growing up with him. it gave you a small sense of pride, watching him kick ass and knowing that the winks he sent to your section of seats were reserved only for you.

"just making sure you got the message." he's silent for a moment, his eyes flicking down to your mouth and you swear you see his pupils dilate. you can't tell if your breath picked up first or if he did. at some point, the door to the rink creaks open, and suguru raises his hand in farewell, effectively snapping satoru out of his trance. he regains his composure in a blink, though, and shakes his hair around like a dog after a bath. "you doing anything right now?" you scoff at his bluntness and ignore your brain screaming at you to kiss him and get it over with.

"why, you gonna take me somewhere?"

"i believe my victory calls for a celebratory dinner," he drawls nonchalantly, shrugging his muscular shoulders. "plus, you need to catch me up on what's been happening in figure skating land all these years." every nerve in your body was straining to follow wherever he went, but your ego said otherwise. it can't hurt to play a little bit.

"i don't know; i have an essay due in a few days that i need to grind out." you inhale through your teeth, looking to the side undecidedly.

"essay, shmessay. with your gpa, you can have that done in half an hour." you make a big show out of pretending to think about it and he scoffs in defeat. "c'mon, i was planning on paying for you anyways."

"with what money?"

"a very hefty card that does not have my name on it." figures, he'd stolen his dad's wallet again. after a few more seconds of fake thought, you nod and he breathes a visible sigh of relief.

"satoru?" his shoulder is pressed against yours while you walk through the moonlit parking lot, one hand resting in the crook of his elbow. he was the one who linked your arms together from excitement after you agreed to let him buy you dinner. the dim light reflecting off his jawline in sharp lines and you wanted to run your finger over his skin.

"hmm?"

"is this like, a date-date?" his complexion becomes slightly pinker while he opens the passenger side door for you. the question slips out of your mouth without warning and his head dips down to your eye level when you sit down, his forearm steadying him on the top of the vehicle.

"only if you want it to be." his voice is quiet and careful, very obviously indicating that you were the one deciding how the rest of the night would go. god, he's so good.

"do you want it to be?"

"my jersey number is your birthday. what do you think?" you chuckle softly under your breath, the tiniest okay leaving your lips in understanding. "put on your seatbelt. i'm driving with precious cargo." the door abruptly closes and he makes his way around the car to throw his bag into the trunk. a choked noise of surprise comes from your throat and you flick the side of his head when he slides into the driver's seat. neither of you can stop laughing and you sink into the leather at your back, glancing at satoru only to find him already staring at you.

"that is your worst line, to date," you say lightheartedly, shaking your head in exasperation.

"it's a good thing i'm not using it on anyone else, then."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[sneezypeasy]

The Lightning Scene, How Azula Targeted Katara (of All People), and the Doylist Reason Why That Matters

Mention Zuko's sacrifice for Katara in Sozin's Comet Part 3 as part of a pro-Zutara talking point, and invariably you'll get a Pavlovian response of:

"But Zuko would have taken the lightning for anyone."

(Not to be confused with the similar-sounding Pavlovan response, which is "Zuko's sacrifice ain't shit compared to a mouth-watering, strawberry-topped meringue dessert"*, which is actually the only valid counter-argument to how the lightning scene is a bona fide Zutara treasure, but I digress.)

Now, I've talked in depth about how the lightning scene is framed far more romantically than it had any right to be, regardless of how you might interpret the subject on paper; this is an argument which I still stand by 100%. That Zuko would have gotten barbecued for anyone, and that he was at the stage of his arc where his royal kebab-ness represented his final act of redemption, doesn't change the fact that the animators/soundtrack artists decided to pull out all the stops with making this scene hit romantic film tropes bingo by the time it played out on screen.

(I mean, we stan.)

There's also a deeper level to this conundrum, a layer which creeps up on you when you're standing in your kitchen at night, the fridge door open in front of you, your hungry, sleep-deprived brain trying to decide on what to grab for a midnight snack, and quite inexcusably you're struck with the question: Okay, Zuko may indeed have taken the lightning for just anyone, but would Azula have shot the lightning at just anyone?

But there's yet a deeper layer to this question, that I don't recall ever seeing anyone discuss (though if somebody has, mea culpa). And that is: would you have written Zuko taking the lightning for anyone else?

Or in other words, who Zuko would have taken the lightning for is the wrong question to be asking; the question we ought to be asking is who Zuko should have taken the lightning for, instead.

Get your pens out, your Doylist hats on, and turn to page 394. It's time to think like an author for a hot minute.

(If you don't know what I mean by Watsonian vs. Doylist analyses, and/or if you need a refresher course, go have a skim of the first section of this 'ere post and then scoot your ass back to this one.)

So. You're the author. You've written almost the entirety of an animated series (look at you!!) and now you're at the climax, which you've decided is going to be an epic, hero-villain showdown. Classic. Unlike previous battles between these two characters, your hero is going to have a significant advantage in this fight - partly due to his own development as a hero at the height of his strength and moral conviction, and partly because your villain has gone through a bit of a Britney Spears 2007 fiasco, and isn't quite at the top of her game here. If things keep going at this pace, your hero is going to win the fight fairly easily - actually, maybe even too easily. That's okay though, you're a talented writer and you know just what will raise the stakes and give the audience a well-timed "oh shit" moment: you're going to have the villain suddenly switch targets and aim for somebody else. The hero will be thrown off his groove, the villain will gain the upper hand, the turns will have indubitably tabled. Villains playing dirty is the number 1 rule in every villain handbook after all, and each of the last two times your hero's braved this sort of fight he's faced an opponent who ended up fighting dishonourably, so you've got a lovely Rule of Three perfectly lined up for the taking. Impeccable. The warm glow of triumph shines upon you, cherubs sing, your English teachers clap and shed tears of pride. (Except for that one teacher you had in year 8 who hated everybody, but she's a right bitch and we're not talking about her today.)

Now here's the thing: your hero is a hero. Maybe he wasn't always a hero, but he certainly is one now. If the villain goes after an innocent third party, there's basically no-one your hero wouldn't sacrifice himself for. He's a hero! Heroes do be like that, it's kind of their thing. The villain could shoot a bolt of lightning at Bildad the Shuhite, and the only thing that'd stop our boy Redeemed Paladin Bravesoul McGee from shielding his foxy ass is the fact that Bildad the Shuhite has the audacity to exist in a totally different show (disgusten.)

But. You're holding the writer's pen. Minus crossover shenanigans you don't have the licensing or time-travel technology to achieve, you have full control over how this scene plays out. You get to decide which character to target to deliver the greatest emotional impact, the juiciest angst, the most powerful cinematic suspense. You get to decide whose life you'll put at risk, to make this scene the most intense spine-chilling heart-stopper it can possibly be.

This is the climax we're talking about, after all - now is not the time to go easy on the drama.

So.

Do you make the villain target just anyone?

Or do you make the villain target someone the hero cares about?

Perhaps, someone he cares about... a lot?

Maybe even, someone he cares about... more than anybody else?

You are the author. You are the God of this universe. You get to choose.

What would deliver the strongest punch?

If you happen to make the inadvisable decision of browsing through these tropes on TV tropes, aside from wasting the rest of your afternoon (you're welcome), you'll find that the examples listed are littered with threatened and dead love interests, and, well, there's a reason for that. For better or worse, romantic love is often portrayed by authors, and perceived by audiences, as a "true" form of love (often even, "the" true form of love). Which is responsible for the other is a chicken/egg situation, one I'm not going to go into for this post - and while I'm certainly not here to defend this perspective as objectively good, I do think it's worth acknowledging that it not only exists but is culturally rather ubiquitous. (If you're playing the love interest in a story with a hero v. a villain, you might wanna watch your back, is what I'm saying.)

Regardless of whether the vibe you're aiming for is romantic or platonic however, one thing is for certain: if you want maximum oomph, the way to achieve that is by making the villain go after the player whose death would hit the hero the hardest.

And like I said, this doesn't have to be played romantically (although it so often is). There are platonic examples in those trope pages, though it's also important to note that many of the platonic ones do show up in stories where a love interest isn't depicted/available/there's a strong "bromance" element/the hero is low-key ace - and keep in mind too that going that route sometimes runs a related risk of falling into queer-bait territory *coughJohnLockcough*

That said, if there is a canon love-interest available, one who's confessed her love for the hero, one who has since been imprisoned by the villain, one who can easily be written as being at the villain's disposal, and who could quite conveniently be whipped out for a mid-battle surprise round - you might find you have some explaining to do if you choose to wield your authorly powers to have the villain go after... idk, some other sheila instead.

(The fact that this ends up taking the hero out of the fight, and the person he sacrifices himself for subsequently throws herself into the arena risking life and limb to defeat the villain and rescue her saviour, also means the most satisfying way this plays out, narratively speaking, is if both of these characters happen to be the most important person in each other's lives - at least, as of that moment, anyway - but I think this post has gone on long enough, lol)

This is, by and large, a rebuttal post more than anything else, but the tl;dr here is - regardless of whether you want to read the scene as shippy or not, to downplay Zuko's sacrifice for Katara specifically as "not that deep™" because "Zuko would have taken the lightning for anyone anyway", suggests either that a) nobody should be reading into the implications of Katara being chosen as the person nearest and dearest to Zuko, so that putting her life in jeopardy can deliver the most powerful impact possible for an audience you'd bloody well hope are on the edge of their seats during the climax of your story or b) the writers made the inexplicable decision of having the villain threaten the life of... literally who the fuck ever, and ultimately landed on someone who's actually not all that important to the hero in the grand scheme of things - which is a cardinal writing sin if I ever saw one (even disregarding the Choice to then season it with mood lighting and sad violin music, on top of it all), and altogether something I'd be legitimately pissed about if my Zuko-OTP ship paired him with Mai, Sokka, or just about anybody else 😂

Most importantly c) I'm hungry, and I want snacks.

*The Aussies in the fandom will get this one. Everyone else can suffer in united confusion.

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Knight in Shining Motorcycle

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.1k

Warnings: almost rape, touching without consent, kissing without consent, calling one a bitch and 'easy' for not giving in, heartbroken-ness, fluff at the end, bucky being protective

Summary: Your roommate, Bucky, is one of the worst players you've ever seen. He has a new girl every week and doesn't stay too long to get feelings. When a cute barista asks you on a date, he's not too keen on who it is. You think this is the opportunity you need to get over Bucky but the date doesn't go as planned, and your knight in shining motorcycle comes to your rescue.

Squares Filled: leather jacket (2020) for @star-spangled-bingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You didn’t get a lot of sleep last night after a particularly rough night. Your roommate had a special friend over making all kinds of noises you’d rather not hear come from his room. It’s not that you were upset that he was getting some and you weren't, it’s that you wish it was you in that room instead of her.

But it’s not like you’re gonna tell him that.

You get out of bed with a yawn and leave your bedroom in search of food. You just bought your favorite cereal that you can’t wait to dig into. You turn the corner and stop when you see a woman you don’t know in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal. Upon closer examination, you see it’s your favorite cereal.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there,” the woman says and smiles at you.

“Is that my cereal?”

“Bucky said I could use this one.”

“Of course,” you roll your eyes.

You turn and storm over to Bucky’s room which is down the hall from yours. You don’t bother knocking so you enter his room expecting to see him lounging around but he’s standing in the middle of the room with only a towel on his waist. Water drips from his toned chest down to the top of the towel, and you find yourself watching the water droplets disappear behind the towel. He clearly sees you checking him out which boosts his ego. He always knew you had a thing for him ever since his sister introduced you two. You look at his face to see him smirking and you give him a deadly glare.

“Are you gonna stay for the show, or…?”

He undoes his towel but doesn’t remove it from his waist so he’s still covered. You jump at the thought of seeing how big his cock is.

“Tell your whores to keep their paws off my shit. She better be gone before I get home.”

You turn and slam his door, missing the way he smirks at your attitude. You quickly get dressed and head out before Bucky can leave his room. You meet up with your best friend who happens to be the sister of Bucky. She waves you over once she sees you but frowns at the sour look on your face.

“Is it Bucky again?”

“He was non-stop fucking this bitch all night, and she was eating my cereal this morning. I didn’t get a good night’s sleep and I didn’t get to eat breakfast.”

“I told you not to be roommates with him.”

When you moved into town to get away from your overbearing family, the only person who would rent to you on such short notice was Bucky. You weren't a stranger, you’re practically part of his family, and he figured he could make some decent money off your part of the rent since he can pay for it fully without your help. Mia warned you not to room with her brother since he’s known to fuck a new girl every week, sometimes twice a week, but you needed a place to stay.

“He’s not all bad all the time, but there are times like this morning when I want to wring his sculpted neck,” you groan.

“Still not over your crush on him?”

Mia is used to all her friends having crushes on her brother. He’s charming, cocky, arrogant, can be super romantic, very protective, and smoking fucking hot. You’re the only one who stuck around long enough to catch Bucky’s attention.

“He’s not worth crushing on.” She looks at you and raises her eyebrows. “Okay, no, and it’s never going to happen. I’m just waiting for this phase to pass however long it may take.”

You two head inside the coffee shop and get in line. Since you couldn’t eat breakfast at home, you’re going to get a sandwich and a coffee with a double espresso. You get to the front of the line and smile at the male barista, Jackson.

“Hi, how are you doing?” he asks.

“Better now that I’m gonna get some energy in me.”

“What can I get for you?” You give him your order. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” You blush at the compliment and look at Mia who smiles. “Is it safe to assume you’re single?”

“I am.”

“Can I take you out tonight? Say, seven?”

You’re quite sure what to say to this. Your mind thinks back to Bucky and how you’ll suffer waiting for him, and Mia shoves you forward as if to say, “This is your way of getting over Bucky”.

“Sure.”

“Cool.” He scribbles his number on the cup and winks at you. “Call me.”

Mia gives him her order and the two of you wait on the other side of the shop for your coffees to come out.

“Girl, I can’t believe that just happened. He’s cute!”

“I know. Is it bad that I'm actually kind of excited?”

“Hell no! What are you gonna wear?”

“That new dress I bought last week.” You grab both your coffees when they’re ready and hand Mia hers. “I’m gonna see if I can get some work done before the date.”

“You work too much.”

“You can’t talk. You don’t work at all.”

You and Mia say your goodbyes and you head back to your apartment. Thankfully, Bucky’s whore is gone so you’ll be able to get some work done. Bucky locked himself in his room but you’re not thinking about him right now. There is a mini workstation across the room from you where you can go to work. Bucky was using it as a video game/music room but gave it to you when he heard you needed it.

You put your headphones on and get to work. You’re an IT support girl for Apple that specializes in fixing computers for people by logging into their network and diagnosing the problem. The next six hours are spent on the computer, talking to people, logging in lots of hours, and watching movies on your other screen.

You have two hours before the date starts so you decide to clock out for the day. You’re not sure what kind of date you’re going to go on so you’ll grab something to eat here. The kitchen is empty when you enter it, and you grab the ingredients for a BLT. Bucky made a bunch of bacon since it was expiring soon, so you’re finding new ways to eat it before it goes bad.

You slather some mayonnaise onto the bread and layer the ingredients on there. When you put the lettuce on, you squirt some mustard on top. The first bite always tastes like Heaven, and you smile as you chew.

Your smile is lost when you feel someone right behind you. Bucky places his left hand on the counter next to you and the other reaches up to grab a glass from the cabinet above you. He presses his body against yours so that you feel the outline of his muscles.

“Excuse me,” he whispers into your ear.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting a glass. I’m thirsty.” He backs up slightly which allows you to turn around but the hand on the counter doesn’t move. “Are you done with work?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Let’s do something. The bowling alley doesn’t close until midnight.”

“I can’t. I have a date.”

Bucky’s entire demeanor changes. He takes three steps back from you and anger is evident on his face.

“What?” With who?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You grab your sandwich and a paper plate and walk back to your room. Bucky shakes his head and quickly follows after you, not being done with this conversation.

“Yeah, I would.”

“Can you get out? I’m changing,” you say and set your sandwich down on your dresser.

“If I see something I haven’t seen before, I’ll throw a dollar at it and I’m all out of singles.”

“Get out.”

You push him out of the room and close and lock the door. Bucky can’t believe what he’s hearing right now so he takes his phone out to text his sister. If anyone knows who you’re going on a date with, it’s her.

Before getting dressed, you decide to take a shower. Bucky likes to keep his room clean but the bathroom is a different story. He has products everywhere, his short hair litters the sink and his clothes are strewn about haphazardly. You thought you were bad. You ran out of shampoo and conditioner a while ago so you’ve been sneaking some of Bucky’s without him noticing, and this time is no different. He’s not gonna miss a few drops from each bottle since he has so little hair.

After the shower, you walk into your room and grab the dress you bought last week. It’s strapless with the sleeves only covering your arms from the elbows down and it goes down to your knees. You pair this with chunky wedges that make you taller by a few inches, and you pin your hair back in soft curls.

As soon as you slide in the last bobby pin, Bucky comes into your room through the bathroom since your door is still locked.

“I could have been naked.”

“What the fuck are you doing going on a date with Jackson Elliot?”

Mia must have told him who you were going out with.

“He’s a nice man who asked me out. What the big deal?”

“He’s a playboy.”

“Like you aren’t?” you scoff and swipe some lip gloss on your lips.

“Doll, you wish you were going on a date with me.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t ask me. He did.” You unlock your door and head into the living room with Bucky trailing behind you. A motorcycle can be heard from the street below and seconds later, a message pops up on your phone. “He’s here.” You two look out the window and see Jackson on his motorcycle which makes Bucky laugh. “What?”

“There’s no way in hell you’re getting on that.”

“You have a motorcycle.”

“Yeah, I know how to ride one.”

“I have a date to get to. Excuse me. Don’t wait up for me.”

Bucky watches you leave the apartment. You two are on the second floor so it doesn’t take long for you to get down to Jackson. Jackson gives you a winning smile as you climb onto the back of his motorcycle. You look up at Bucky who is watching from the window, and you slide your arms around Jackson’s waist just to piss him off. He glares down at you as Jackson takes off down the street.

He didn’t even give you a helmet to put on.

Jackson takes you to the beach that is quickly losing people as the sun goes down. The water gets colder, the wind gets cooler, and the beach becomes less crowded at this time of night. You didn’t know he was taking you here otherwise you’d have worn something warmer.

“Wow, it’s kind of cold out here,” you shiver.

“You’ll be alright,” Jackson says without offering his jacket to you. He takes you down to the tables where people can sit and have lunch or stop to rest underneath the umbrellas. The employees of the restaurant had tied the umbrellas down so they wouldn't blow away in the night. “So, have you lived here long?”

“For a year, yeah,” you nod.

“Then how come I’ve never seen you at the coffee shop? I think I would have remembered someone like you.”

“Well, my best friend and I actually went to this other coffee shop that’s in the middle of our apartments. We went there for quite a while but they closed, so we--” You’re suddenly cut off by his lips on yours. You’re completely taken aback by this and pull away from him. “What are you doing?”

“Kissing you.”

He leans in and kisses you again but you put your hands on his chest to push him away.

“Wait, a second--”

“Come on, you know you like it.”

Instead of attacking your lips, he forces his mouth on your neck. His right hand grips your thigh and starts moving dangerously close to a place where you don’t want him.

“No, stop,” you gasp and try to push his hand away.

“Come on, baby. There’s no one around for miles.”

“I said stop!”

You push him away and slap him right across the cheek as hard as you can. An angry look passes over his face as if you told him you wanted this and suddenly said no.

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” he scoffs and gets up.

“I thought you wanted to date me, not do this. I wouldn't have come otherwise.”

“The only reason I asked you out was because I heard you were easy. I’m out of here. Find your own way home.”

If there were people around, they would for sure hear your heart break. Jackson leaves you stranded at the beach with no way of getting home. You contemplate calling Bucky but you don’t want to hear an, “I told you so” from him. Plus, he’d probably get off on seeing you so sad. Jackson’s motorcycle roars to life as he drives away, and you miss the second motorcycle that speeds by the beach after him.

Thirty minutes pass by that feels like hours, and you’ve moved from the tables to the sand where you’re sitting and watching the ocean crash upon the shore. No one is on the streets walking by or on the beach but you hear footsteps come closer to you. At this point, you don’t care who it is. The person sits down next to you and you see familiar boots come into view.

“Look at me,” Bucky says gently. You can’t. He slides two fingers under your chin and pulls it toward him so you’re forced to look at him. There are new and dried tears on your cheek that break his heart to see. He uses his other hand to wipe the tears away. “He’s not worth crying over.”

“I thought he liked me,” you sniffle. Bucky removes his hands from you and that’s when you see it. Bucky’s knuckles are raw and busted with dried blood crusting over the wounds. You grab his hand and run your thumb gently over the wounds. “What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about.”

He lets his hand linger in yours for a few seconds before he pulls away completely.

“I bought this dress last week. I never thought I’d get to wear it,” you sigh sadly.

Bucky opens his mouth to tell you just how gorgeous you look in it when he sees you shiver. Upon closer examination, he sees goosebumps litter your arm. He immediately takes off his leather jacket for you to wear.

“Here, put this on.”

“No, I’m okay--”

“Doll, take the jacket.”

He wraps the jacket around your shoulders. You’re immediately enveloped with warmth and his smell. It makes you smile which doesn't go unnoticed by Bucky.

“Thank you.”

“Come on, let’s go home.”

Bucky gets up and holds his hand out for you to take which you do, and he helps you to his feet. He takes you to his motorcycle and grabs the only helmet for you to wear.

“No, you should wear it.”

“Doll, take the damn helmet.”

You do and shove it on your head. Even this smells like him which is making you dizzy. He gets onto the bike first then you do, but you’re not pressed against him like he knows you should be. You’re sitting up instead of leaning into him, and he fires his baby to life. He jerks the bike forward and you go flying into him from behind. You wrap your arms around his waist to steady yourself and he smirks without looking back at you.

He drives off carefully but you’re holding onto him for dear life. Just as he thinks he can get used to holding onto him, he arrives at your apartment building. No words are exchanged as you two make your way inside the apartment. You stop right outside your door and Bucky leans on the wall next to it.

“Thank you for taking me home.”

“We live together. I was just driving myself home,” he jokes.

“Still. Thank you,” you smile. You grab your doorknob to enter your room when you pause. “Oh, here is your jacket.”

“Keep it. I have another one.”

“Okay,” you blush. “Goodnight.”

“Night, Doll.”

You and Bucky retreat into your own rooms for the night. You get ready for bed and crawl under the covers. You try and get some sleep but you can’t get the feel of Jackson’s hands off your body and the feel of his lips off your lips. No matter what you do, the disgust you feel is blocking you from getting sleep.

The thought of Jackson is replaced with the thought of Bucky and how gently he treated you. There is a softer side to Bucky that no one else sees but you that you’re grateful for. Maybe… no, he probably won’t let you. Maybe? You get out of bed and walk through the bathroom to his door and knock on it lightly.

“Come in,” you hear him say.

You push the door open and see him lying on his bed without a shirt on. It makes sense he doesn’t have one on since he’s going to sleep but the sight makes your cheeks heat up slightly.

“Can I sleep here tonight?”

Bucky doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he scoots over to give you room to sleep. You quickly crawl into bed and lay flat on your back. The both of you don’t say a word to each other for fear of ruining the moment. What would you even say to him? Thank you? Sleep tight? Don’t let the bed bugs bite? Bucky can hear the gears in your head turn so he turns toward you and wraps his arm around your waist. He pulls you into him so your back is pressed against his chest.

It’s scary how well you fit against him.

Bucky can feel you smile against his arm as you allow sleep to come easily to you. He presses his head in your hair and takes a whiff of your scent. He smells his shampoo in your hair and the thought of you using his shit makes him smile.

You make him happy and he hates it took him a year to figure it out.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[darlingbabyboo]

"You're in my Jersey!"

♡ Haikyuu boys see you in their uniform! ♡

Kenma

He thought he wouldn't care (he cares very very much)

You never really went out of your way to go to Kenma's games, he always made sure that you knew it wasn't that big of a deal to him, you two get to hang out whenever you want. one game won't chanegg anything.

Kuroo (the little meddlers) can't let that slide

He's the one that proposed that you come to one of Nekoma's games, provideing you with one of Kenma's jersey's

Kenmas eyes went real wide when he saw you in the crowd 👀

You know how Nekomata usually subs him out for one of the sets- that's not gonna happen today

Everyone looking at him like 🤨🤔 and he mumbles the weakest shit about showing off his internal organs or whatever Yamamoto be talking about

Kuroo laughing in the background (with his ugly ass hyena laugh, baby I love you but why 💀)

He's gotta show off for his girl

Don't worry, she knows you got stamina

He's playing the best game of his life, demolishing the enemy

His team don't know what's going on but they enjoy this side of Kenma while they have the chance

After the game, he makes sure that you understand how much he appreciates you in his jersey

"I like this look on you." Kenma mumbles and plays with the bottom of the jersey that brushes against your thighs.

At his admission, you give a cheeky grin. "Look at that Kenny." You coo, "you like when I wear your clothes."

The tips of his ears start to turn pink, but he can't help nodding along when you wonder aloud if you should come to more of his games. A possessive side (that shocks him to the core) pops up at the idea of you wearing more of his clothes. For once, Kuroo's idea isn't a complete train wreck.

Bokuto

No way are you dating Bokuto and not coming to one of his games

Put on your clown shoes 🤡👞 because you gotta be one if you think that he would ever let that slide

You might possibly kill Akaashi because you've raised Bokuto's ego so much, but Bokuto looks at you with so much love in his eyes that it's hard to regret your decision (though, serious apologies Akaashi)

He's playing at his best with his baby in the crowd

There 👏🏾 are 👏🏾 no 👏🏾 emo 👏🏾 modes 👏🏾

The love of his life is in the crowd, you're delusional if you think anything can turn his frown upside down 😃

He probably broke some of the blockers arms with how hard he's hitting the ball

Not the only thing that's hard

Who cares about those blockers when his baby's here 😍

He barely makes it to the offical end of the game before he's rushing into the crowd to get you. As soon as he lays his eyes on your amazing figure in his jersey, he's grabbing you by the waist and spinning you in the air. "Baby!!! You gotta wear this more!!!" His eyes shine even brighter (which you thought was an impossible feat with how birght they already are.)

You snort, "like I don't wear this enough." You lay your hands on the sameside of his face and give him a gentle kiss on his nose, "I swear, you want this to be the only thing I wear."

He gives a toothy grin at that, "exactly!"

[raikkxz]

ᯓ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ⑅ walk him like a dog 2 ✯ jb22 .ᐟ.ᐟ

★ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃﹕﹙ yes/no ﹚ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘﹕﹙in which sebastian vettels sister gets her dream job to work along with him, but stumbles across an infamous playboy﹚ — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒﹕﹙purpose use of lowercase letters only, not sure if there's gonna be another part, use of y/n, black-cat!reader, golden-retriever-ish!jenson, past-playboy!jenson, lowkey-past-toxic!jenson, VERYY light angst [i think], probably not well proofread, lmk if there's anything i missed!!﹚ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆﹕﹙jenson button 22 x f!vettel!reader﹚ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓﹕﹙icba checking but it's not much at all imooo fjdkjfdsjfkla﹚ ★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙part two who cheered !?﹚

˚ ₊ · ͟͟͞͞➳ — ꒰previous // last work // pinned post // masterlist // taglist // rules // next ꒱

JENSON COULDN'T HELP BUT look at the red bull racer's sister eating her lunch with some of her co-workers. she fit right in and right away, even only after a week. she was smiling. oh, her smile. it was different than how she smiled with her brother. how jenson would do anything to make her smile that genuine smile she had with her brother.

"staring at my sister, huh?"

jenson whipped his head around to see sebastian vettel. he opens his mouth then closes it as he sees the fellow driver's raised eyebrows.

sebastian's cold face cracks into a grin. he throws his head back and laughs. "you should have seen the look on your face!"

jenson grumbles under his breath.

"alright, all jokes aside, please don't play with my sisters heart." sebastian puts a hand on jenson's shoulder.

"why would i ever-" jenson starts as he looks at him, but seb raises his eyebrows.

jenson purses his lips. "i.. alright, maybe you're right and i'm sorry."

seb sighs softly. "i'm just looking out for my sister, alright? i love her very much, with all my heart. i don't want to see it broken. i don't want to see *her* broken. just please, promise me."

"i promise." jenson nods sternly.

〜

days after days, you and jenson had formed a friendly and healthy relationship, in which you both hoped would never be ruined. every time you laughed or smiled, you didn't know the thoughts lingering behind the eyes that shined when you did so. you've opened up more and more, finally showing the fun side of you.

jenson hoped to keep it that way. he hoped that your friendship would never be ruined. he'd never felt this way before, and he didn't know whether you felt the same way or not. being the infamous playboy he was, of course he didn't want to break your heart like he did to the other girls. he made a promise to your brother, a promise he could and would never break. you were too dear to him, too precious. he didn't want to break you. he vowed to, with all his life and heart, and he would never admit that to anyone or to himself.

so from then on, he kept it a secret. a secret he couldn't bear. and little did he know, that you on the other hand, was starting to catch feelings too. and you would never admit that to yourself either.

you both had fallen too hard to ever want to break your relationship. your personalities might be polar opposites, but the way you both want to keep your loved ones close and protected was a trait you shared.

jenson, the infamous playboy he was known as, obviously had toyed with a 'few' girls hearts. he's not one to think before he acts. he's the outgoing, social golden retriever.

you were oftenly known is the black cat, and the studiouss quiet kid. you were known by everyone, but not exactly popular. you plan out your movements carefully, always one step ahead. perfect match, honestly.

but further more, jenson made you feel special. you wanted to deny that feeling that made you think, 'he probably gives this treatment to every girl.' but oh, how you were wrong.

he would never offer to carry an item that weighed less than a pound for the 'other' girls. ("here, let me help you with that." "jenson, i can carry it, it's fine!! it's literally just a-" "no, please just let me help." and of course you had to give in to those helpless eyes. that effect he had on you made you weak in the knees.) he would never buy the 'other' girls special and thoughtful gifts. ("please, darling, this is my treat." "but jens-" "i said it once and ill say it again. my. treat.") he would never follow those 'other' girls around like he did to you, like a dog on a leash. ("walk him like a dog." seb snorted. "shut up!!" you muttered, feeling your cheeks get slightly red. jenson rolled his eyes, continuing to follow you neverless.)

it was never those 'other' girls, who he never even talked to anymore ever since he had met you. it's always been you. and from then, it would never change.

★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙i MIGHTTT take some blurb and part requests for this series, so ill lyk if i do!!﹚ ౨ৎ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓﹕﹙@gray4youuu @c-losur3 @ujws5 @namgification @faithshouseofchaos @isurvived3-11andimproud @somebodyonce-toldme @44lewico﹚

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[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

The First, and the Last

Day #6 - Prompt: Heard It In a Love Song | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Older Steddie, Everlasting Love, Getting Married

He's the last. 

The first, and the last, somehow.

Eddie's been with Steve forever, longer than any of the other couples in their orbit, and yet. They couldn't get married until now. At least not legally, and they just didn't ever bother to do it, symbolically. 

So, now they can.

At fifty.

He had to wait thirty years to marry Steve. 

Gareth got married after two years. Jeff, four. Goodie, ten, and Goodie's a notorious foot-dragger. Never in a hurry to make any decisions, big or small. 

So, thirty sounds insane, in comparison. 

Especially since Eddie's the opposite. He's impulsive. He makes decisions fast, and he made his decision about Steve decades ago, but today's the first time he can actually act on it.

And now he's nervous. 

He shouldn't be. Steve said yes. There was never any question he wouldn't, but Eddie's hands are shaking as he tries to tie his tie. He's never been very good at it, and today's no different. 

"Here, let me," Gareth says, and he ties it with ease.

"Thanks," Eddie says, and just keeps looking at himself in the mirror. When did he get so old? Yeah, the road is hard, and they've been at it for decades, but he feels like he only just realized that so much time has passed.

Which is insane. Gareth has almost raised his kids. That's how long he's been married. Jeff's kids are in middle school. Goodie doesn't have any, but doesn't want any. Eddie never really thought about it. Now he's fifty. He's probably not having kids at fifty. 

But he is getting married.

"Steve looks great," Gareth says, "Robin's getting him all shined up."

"Oh, I hope not," Eddie laughs, because Steve can definitely do a better job getting himself ready than Robin.

Then he looks back at Gareth, "I can't believe I'm the last."

"The last what?" Gareth asks, checking his own hair in the mirror.

"To settle down," Eddie says, and he jumps when Gareth barks out a laugh, "What?"

"You think you're the last to settle down? Since when? You've been settled with Steve forever."

"Yeah, but, like, not officially."

Gareth rolls his eyes, "Definitely officially in all the ways that matter. Today is a formality, you understand that, right? You aren't committing to anything today that you haven't been committed to for thirty years."

That's true. That's definitely true. He hadn't thought of it like that.

"It's a piece of paper, Eddie. A tax break. It's nothing else, I promise. You're just as married as I am, because of how you feel about Steve. Trust me."

"What if getting married fucks it all up?" Eddie asks, because he's been worried about that. 

"It won't," Gareth reassures. "Trust me. You're solid."

Eddie nods. They are. 

"Do you want me to send in Steve?" Gareth asks, meeting Eddie's eyes in the mirror.

"I'm not supposed to see him, before," Eddie says, because that's been hammered into his head. Relentlessly.

"I truly don't think it matters. Will you feel better if you do? That's what matters," Gareth says, and Eddie pauses for a second, then nods.

And Gareth leaves to go fetch him, and Eddie thinks he already feels a little bit better.

Steve comes in and smiles at him as he strides over, "You having cold feet?"

Eddie shakes his head, he's definitely not, "You?"

Steve cups his cheek, leaning over to kiss him, then he cups his cheek, "Never. You look so serious."

"I've loved you for thirty years," Eddie says, as serious as he feels.

Steve smiles, soft and sweet, "Me too, Eddie."

"I would have married you back then, year one, day one. If you'd have had me," Eddie says, leaning into Steve's palm. Finding the familiar comfort there.

"Eddie," Steve says, so soft and tender, "what's this about?"

"I feel like, maybe, I should have married you years ago. Even if it was just for us. Even if it wasn't legal."

"Okay," Steve says, encouraging him to keep talking. 

"I'm sorry I didn't, that's all. I'm sorry we're last," he chokes out.

Steve just smiles, and leans in to kiss him once, twice, more, "It's not a race. We're good, Eddie. We've been good for a very long time."

"Did you want kids? Did I sleep on that, too?" Eddie asks, and Steve's shaking his head.

"I would have said so if I did, honey. Honest. Yeah, I assumed that's what my life would be like, before you. But that's just because even in my wildest dreams, I couldn't have predicted the life we'd end up having together."

And it's Eddie's turn to smile, and he keeps on smiling as Gareth pokes his head back in, "We're still doing this right? Everyone's waiting."

Eddie doesn't much care about everyone else, only Steve.

"You gonna marry me?" Eddie asks again, this time cheeky and flirting with Steve, his husband-to-be.

His husband already, in all the ways that matter.

"I suppose so, we're already here," Steve teases, and reaches up to straighten Eddie's tie, "This is good. You finally learned to tie a tie. I'm so proud."

Eddie grins, and ignores the face Gareth is making at him, threatening to out him as a dirty liar.

"Why, yes, yes I did. Just for you sweetheart," Eddie lies, and pokes Gareth in the gut on the way by, knowing Gareth won't say a word. They know where each other's bodies are buried; helped with the shoveling. 

This little white lie won't hold up forever. Eventually Steve will see him trying to tie a tie and the jig will be up.

But not today.

"Starting your marriage on a lie, for fucking shame," Gareth hisses as he passes Eddie and Eddie laughs. 

And when it's time for Eddie's vows, he ad-libs in a confession about the tie, and Steve laughs, head thrown back, tickled.

Steve then promises in his, that in this marriage, he'll teach Eddie to tie his tie for real.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

[majesty0h]

~Sharing is CARING. And Toji Cares About You Very Much~ imagine this is them ok

You and Toji have a great sex life. Scratch that, you have an AMAZING sex life. His stamina is stupid, he's packing bigger than you've ever encountered...he's a FREAK. A hulking, muscled freak who's down for anything and has showed your usually prude ass things you've never even dreamed of. Bondage, wearing vibrators in public, petplay, breathplay, temperature play, hell one time he ate your ass on the balcony while he was dressed as Wolverine. You had no clue where he got all of these ideas, but you certainly weren't complaining.

The current "thing" was watching porn on your VR headset while he went down on you. He'd been shocked to hear that you didn't consume it regularly, I mean, he was beating off to BBW on the Hub every chance he got. He was determined to force you outside your comfort zone.

It started slow, vanilla. Standard B/G, anal. Then it evolved to breeding, cucking, double penetration...

That's when he noticed it.

You took forever, FOREVER to cum on his mouth (to his annoyance) when you were watching dirty movies. But when you stumbled upon a woman getting plowed by her husband and his best friend...you were quick. Too quick. The way you moaned and gripped his hair, pulling him in deeper, it caused his tongue to stop flickering for a moment.

"Hm? What the fuck's gotten you so riled up, ma?"

You instantly freeze and pause the video, cheeks burning red behind that stupid headset, feeling dirty, feeling bad. It was bad this was so hot, right? "Uh, nothing. Just usual stuff," you lied.

You're a terrible liar.

You feel and hear the bed creak as he shifts up and snatches the device off you, raising it up and peering. He's wearing just grey sweatpants, that were tenting the minute he realized what was up. A shit eating grin spread across his face. "Oh fuck. That's what you're into now?"

You groan and throw a pillow at him. "Shu up! I've just never seen it before. You ruined the mood."

Your boyfriend is snickering at your discomfort. "Uh huh. Get on all fours. I wanna see who fucks her better."

You push this morning's events out of your head as you go to work. And it's definitely not when you return home ten hours later, tired, annoyed, and frustrated.

"Hey babes. Welcome home!" Toji, your beautiful trophy boy calls from the living room. "How was work?"

Sighing you kick off your heels and scan your phone. "It was rough. This merger is insane. We have 5 million dollars riding on this and everyone wants to dick around. I thought being Vice President was worth the drama, but it's seriously getting to me," you vent as you scroll through dozens of confidential, high priority emails.

Maybe that's why you loved Toji so much. Whenver you're with him, you don't think about deadlines, trades, layoffs. Just feeling good, happy, and full.

Walking into the living room, you're so engrossed you don't even register there's someone else sitting on the couch with Fushiguro. You only look up in confusion when the stranger whistles, low and deep. It's almost like a purr. "Damn Toji, you weren't lyin'. Complete smokeshow."

Your eyes widen and your head snaps up. There he is, manspreading on your very expensive couch, sleek black boots pressed against your /very/ expensive white rug. He's tall, lanky, built like a beanpole. He's got a shock of white hair, and he's wearing small, circle shaped sunglasses, but the shine of dazzling blue eyes peek through anyways.

Toji's looking at you like it's Christmas morning, his gaze darting between the other man and his jaded wifey. He seems to drink in your confusion.

"Oh...I...I didn't know you had a friend over," you say after an awkward pause. You're trying to address your man, but you can't tear your eyes away from this twink. Who is he? "Hi?"

The stranger beams, shifting to a more professional posture. God he is tall. You feel so small under his gaze, and you glance to Toji for help, understanding. He offers none. "Hey, pretty lady. My name is Jerome. Jerome Washington. The building's maintenance man. I heard..." he leans slightly closer to you, sliding his shades just down an inch. "You need your pipes cleaned."

You blink. "No? The pipes are fine?"

Toji groans in disproval and shoves "Jerome" slightly. "Dude, I told you, you don't gotta do any of that shit. Just be normal, for fuck's sake."

The stranger, who was doing his best to seem mysterious and commanding, broke into a boyish smile. "Oh yeah my bad. Sup? I'm Satoru Gojo. I'm going to fuck the shit out of you tonight!"

"We," Toji corrected, but he's got that same expression.

Have you gone crazy? Has the stress finally made you crack? Are you hallucinating? This was a fever dream. Toji had a knack for wanting to snap the neck of any man who even looked at you...so why was he sitting here, giddy, as this "Satoru" addressed you so vulgar? So hungry?

"...huh?" is the only thing you can say, darting between the pair. You're more than a yard away, but you can practically smell the lust filling the room. "Toji...what is--"

"Remember earlier today?" he interrupts, running a hand through his shaggy hair. "When you were creamin' over that video? The Eiffel Tower?"

"Toji!!"you hiss, flustered he would bring this up in front of a guest.

He cocks his head, throwing Gojo a knowing smirk. "She's all shy. Isn't that cute? But I promise, she was feening."

Satoru licks his lips, still undressing you with his eyes. "I bet. To be honest I haven't either. But I'm not stupid enough to turn it down."

Toji snorts. "Yeah? Don't worry, I'll show your prudes how it's done." He snaps his fingers at you. "C'mere doll. C'mere and kneel."

You're glued to the same spot, trying to reconcile what's happening. You watch as Satoru pats his knee, promising not to bite, unless you're into that.

"Princess,"Toji repeats again, his tone firm and commanding enough to snap you back to reality. You know that voice. It's the "you listen or you're in a lot of trouble" voice.

Sheepishly, you stare at your feet as you shuffle forward. You can't ignore how your heart beats in your chest, how your dress feels too tight, how this is the hottest fucking thing you've ever experienced.

"Kneel."

You don't defy him. You look up at them both with doey eyes, shuddering when he grips your chin, stroking your cheek with the pad of his calloused thumb. Gojo hums and repeats the same motion on the other side. His touch is soft and warm, and you can't help the soft sigh that escapes you. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to ignore the growing warmth. Your boyfriend presses your foreheads together, his voice syrupy against your ear. "I love you so much, doll. I'd do anything to make you happy. If this doesn't show it, nothing else will. Now you just relax and I'm gonna make your fantasies all come true," he promise as he nips at your neck. "Now start making our friend feel at home."

You swallowed hard. You feel like you could faint. You want to reply "yes daddy" like the good girl you are, but words fail you. All you can do is nod.

You take a deep breath and scoot over, still on your knees, but nestled between Gojo's skinny legs. He smiles down at you innocently, but the contents of his words are far from it. "You have such pretty lips, sweetie. How about you open them for me?"

You glance at Toji for reassurance, but he's gone from the couch, crouching behind you, fingers weaving into your hair, massaging your scalp. "Go on."

Your hands tremble as you reach for Gojo's belt.

((haven't written anything like this in years LOL im so rusty. stay tuned for part 2 and feel free to share ;D ))

[theeoriginals]

Ok so how about a cat and mouse!reader x elijah follow up where she’s back in town and they haven’t seen each other since their last meeting, and she’s caught by him taking something but he’s just happy to see her again so he lets her get away with it bc she’s charming and he loves the chase and banter and flirting 😩

hard to forget | elijah mikaelson

author's note; someone else asked for part 2 to cat and mouse, so here is a small little thing for them :)

warnings; witch!female!reader, elijah is astronomically down bad, fluff, mention of stealing but it's fine, reader is flirty and confident. no use of y/n!

"We've got to stop meeting like this."

"I quite like seeing you like this," She turns with a smile, wicked and sharp, but a genuine happiness shines in her eyes, especially when she sees the smile Elijah fights off at the sight of her. "You're so sexy when you're being all righteous."

Elijah huffs, ignoring the fact that she can make him feel like a blushing boy again. "You're insatiable. And you told me you were going to leave this here when I caught you trying to take it the first time I brought you here."

She purses her lips in a pout when he plucks the figurine of the black cat from her hands, setting it back on the shelf it'd been collecting dust on in the touristy museum tucked into an old building in the Quarter.

"Can a girl not have a hobby anymore?" She nearly whines the words as he approaches her, lifting her hands to drag her nails along his waist, catching on the fabric of his buttoned shirt. "I got bored, baby,"

He hums, looking at her with some twisted mix of reprimand and amusement. "Most people read a book when they get bored. Or go on a walk."

"Both of those sound absolutely mind-numbing."

He huffs out a laugh, unable stop it even though he knows it will just enable her further.

Her answering grin proves that point immediately.

"I do it for us, Elijah,"

"Oh, really? And how, exactly, does this benefit us?"

She straightens her shoulders, meeting his gaze unwaveringly confident. "I get bored and I go looking for things to entertain me, and you ultimately find out and follow me, and then we get to play our fun little game that I know you love. One way or another, it ends up with us in a similar position to this and we're both happy."

Elijah's smile grows more fond as she goes on, and he shakes his head with poorly feigned exasperation. "Darling–"

"I know, I know," She groans, rolling her eyes. "Let's just go. I'll have to find something else to entertain me, I suppose. Maybe I'll ask Klaus if he needs something done,"

"I almost hate that option more. You've only just returned from his last errand, I'd at least like to share a meal with you before you're running off again."

She throws him a wink as she turns him around, pushing him towards the door.

"Don't worry, I won't let him send me far so soon again," She reassures him, fingers skating along the shelf as she follows him out the door back outside into the throngs of people. "I've missed you, you know. I don't like running off to every corner of the country."

Elijah spares her a glance, trying and failing to not look pleased with her words. "You do like it," He corrects her softly.

"Alright, I do," She concedes easily, earning a light chuckle from him. "But I don't like being away from you."

"Does your flattery ever end?"

"You wanna find out, beautiful?" She raises her brows pointedly, earning a ragged noise from him that's choked off as he adjusts his tie, and the flustered action sends her off into a laughing fit that echoes over the noise of the Quarter and has him smiling in spite of himself.

He follows after her swift pace like a loyal dog, hands tucked in his pockets as they slowly weed out from the crowds and make their way towards the compound that's much less populated these days.

As they reach the courtyard, Elijah reaches for her elbow, tugging her back towards him, earning a slightly surprised noise from her as she catches herself with her palms flat on his chest. "How much joy does it bring you to render a thousand year old vampire speechless?"

"I don't think I could accurately describe it, even if I spent the next hundred years trying,"

He shakes his head and finally, finally, leans his head down to press his lips to hers and she hums into the kiss, satisfied with the outcome of all of her teasing.

She was right, after all. They always end up here.

Elijah pulls away after a moment, resenting the need for air in favor of tasting the sweet warmth of her skin again. He's silent for a moment, head tilting just enough to be noticeable, and then he lets out a long sigh. "Niklaus would like to speak to you,"

"I know, I'm ignoring him."

Elijah relishes in his brother's faint, outraged noise, but knows that he won't come disturb them just yet. "Don't let him send you off just yet. I would like to see you again tonight, at least."

"I won't, I promise. We'll have dinner, and a drink or two. I'd also love to end the night in your room, if that's alright with you,"

Heat floods his cheeks and he briefly looks away from her, just to shake himself of her flirtations. "Whatever you want, darling."

She smiles like he's just given her the keys to the city.

Hours later, after their dinner, after their drinks, after they end the night and start the next day with whatever she wanted, Elijah wakes long after she's left on another of Klaus's errands, keeping to her promise of not going far.

When he turns over, his eyes catch on the small, black cat figurine sitting on the table beside his bed. Elijah falls back onto the bed, laughing to himself. Utterly, absolutely besotted with the woman.

[lucygxybaird]

you're pregnant with billy's baby, and you've started to show tw: pregnancy

You stand in a shaft of sunlight, stirring porridge with one hand while the other rests on the small of your back, which has begun to ache when you stand for too long lately. Not that you’ve had the opportunity to exert yourself even in such a minimal way over the past few months — ever since Billy found out you were carrying his baby, he’s been true to his word that you won’t lift a finger. And as much as you appreciate the way Billy dotes on you, you’ve started to find yourself missing simple things, like cooking or gardening. 

Right now, you’re intent on making breakfast, planning on having it on the table by the time your fiancee wakes up. Maybe he’ll be less concerned about you standing on your feet for more than five minutes if you’re already sitting down when he— 

You hear a sharp intake of breath, and you pause mid-stir, pressing your lips together and squeezing one eye shut as though bracing yourself for impact. After a moment of silence, you turn your head, meeting Billy’s wide-open gaze. He’s still sprawled on the bed across the room; the only thing separating the kitchen from your bedroom, such as it is, is a filmy, flimsy curtain that really could do with replacing. He can see you standing there clear as day. 

You turn to face him, still clutching the spoon. “Billy, really, you don’t have to worry,” you insist, before he can even open his mouth. “I’m not doing anything too strenuous. I know you just wanna take care of me, but I—”

Billy gets out of bed, pushing the curtain aside and taking a few steps toward you. “Turn back toward the stove,” he says, his voice soft and husky, almost like he’s talking in his sleep. In fact, he’s looking at you right now as though he’s in a dream he doesn’t want to wake up from — wide-eyed, his lips parted like he wants to drink you in, moving closer like he’s swimming through syrup. 

“What?” 

He gestures with his hand, a little semicircular motion. “Please,” he says. “Just turn back toward the stove.” 

So you do, hesitantly sticking the spoon back in the porridge and starting to stir again. You look at Billy from the corner of your eye to find him staring at you. It’s hard to tell when you can’t actually face him, but it looks like his eyes are shining. “Billy?” 

He gives a little start, as if you’ve splashed him with cold water. “You…you’re showin’,” he says, his voice trembling ever so slightly. 

You look down at yourself, raising an eyebrow. “Oh.”

Of course, you’ve noticed that your body is changing, giving way to the life the two of you created. But it’s been such a gradual process — outwardly, at least — that you’ve started to think no one else is really going to notice. Not until you’re the size of a house, anyway. It’s especially true considering the nightgown you’re wearing, which is so voluminous that it could double as a sail. “How can you even tell? This thing fits me like a circus tent.” 

Billy laughs. “I could see your silhouette when you were standin’ just there, with the sun hittin’ you just so,” he says. “At first I was just thinkin’ about how you looked like an angel in that light, and then” He swallows, smiling a little. “I noticed…there’s a little bump. C’mere.” 

He holds out a hand for you, and you don’t hesitate to go to him, sticking the spoon in the gently bubbling porridge. He puts his hand at the small of your back, drawing you closer; his free hand grabs at the material laying against your hip, pulling it closer to you, so you can see your shape better. “Look,” he says softly. 

You look down again, and now you see the little curve of your belly. You doubt anyone except Billy — who knows your body so well, who has been so attentive (to say the least) to you — would even see it, but now that he’s drawn attention to it, you find that you can’t look away. “Hi,” you say softly, putting your hand against your stomach. “Look at you.” 

Billy covers your hand with his, and in a moment, he’s on his knees in front of you. He puts his other hand on your other hip, pulling at the material there, too, so that your little bump is even more defined. “Hi,” he echoes, and you put your hand gently along the back of his head as you realize his voice is choked. “Oh, I can’t wait to meet you. I hope you know I love you and your mama so much.”

You weave your fingers into his hair. “Oh, I’m sure they know,” you say. “I do.”

He kisses the thin cotton stretched over your belly, which makes you giggle — it does tickle — and he does it again, earning another helpless little laugh from you. Billy looks up at you, grinning, his eyes still very bright. 

On the stove, the porridge gives a particularly insistent boil, as if it’s about set to spill from the confines of the pot. 

“Let me get that,” he says, practically jumping to his feet, and you have to bite back a groan.

“No, you sit,” you say firmly, putting yourself between him and the stove. You prop your hands on your hips. “I’m serving you breakfast whether you like it or not, damn it.”  

He smiles crookedly, a little sheepish. “Yes, ma’am,” he says, and drops into a chair. He looks over at you, wrinkling his nose. “I’ve been drivin’ you crazy, huh?” 

“Well…” You hesitate, taking a moment to grab a couple of bowls and ladle porridge into them, reaching for a bowl of fresh strawberries sitting on the counter. (Yesterday, Billy went into town to buy a bunch for you when you mentioned, in passing, that you’d like one.) You chop some up and sprinkle them into each bowl, setting one in front of Billy. You can almost feel the weight of his gaze on you, waiting on your answer. Of course, you don’t want to hurt his feelings, but you need to be honest. 

You clear your throat, setting your bowl on the table, too. “Well, I…” 

Before you can sit in your chair, he reaches for you, gently pulling you into his lap. He pulls your own bowl toward you, hooking his chin over your shoulder. “You can just say yes,” he says, and you hear his smile in the warmth of his voice. “I’m sorry, honey. I don’t wanna drive you up the wall, I just wanna take care of you.” 

He smooths his hand over the soft curve of your belly. ‘The both of you,” he adds, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against your neck. 

“I know,” you assure him, putting your hand over his. “And I appreciate it, I really do. But I can still do things for myself, you know? I promise you I’ll let you know if I ever feel like it’s too much, or if I need your help, but until then…I’m still me, even if I’m carrying a baby. I can do things for myself, and for us.”

Billy kisses your temple. “I know you’re still you,” he says. “Believe me, I’m grateful for you being exactly who you are, every day.” 

You smile, shifting more comfortably onto his lap. “I’m grateful for you, too,” you say. “And I’m grateful that we’ve always been equal partners. I always have been.”

Another kiss to your temple. “Equal partners,” he agrees. “I’ll take care of you, you’ll take care of me, and we’ll both take care of little Lasairfhíona.” 

You laugh. “Who?”

Billy grins. “Lasairfhíona. It’s a Gaelic name for a little girl. Means somethin’ about wine, I think.” 

You giggle helplessly. “We’re not naming our baby that. I don’t even know how to spell it. Or pronounce it, for that matter. Besides, what if it’s a boy?” 

“Deasmhumhnach.” 

You shake your head, still laughing. “Well, I was thinking William for a boy, but we can talk about it.” 

You feel his soft huff fall against your neck, as he slides his hands gently over your stomach again. It seems that he can’t stop touching your bump, not that you mind. 

“William, huh?” he says quietly. “What about Patrick William?”

You smile, leaning back against him. “I like that.” 

The two of you eat in comfortable silence, with you remaining in Billy’s lap. You have time, you know, to talk about baby names, to plan the wedding, to imagine your future. The most important thing is that it’s the two of you — well, the three of you — together, always. 

There’s nothing in the world more important to you, and you know Billy feels the same. 

Equal partners, after all.