#━━ ⟢ HIGHER FURTHER FASTER BABY ⦂ ⋰ * ✧ ic.

[nothingtoprcve-blog]

❝ Wait, you don’t know how he really lost his eye, do you? ❞

[allegra-writes]

"Bright blue ripples"

Mob!Tom Holland x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, overstimulation, dirty talk, master/sir kink

Just a little blurb cuz I can't get this scene out of my head 💦

"Light of my life, fire of my loins

Be a good baby, do what I want"

Off to the Races - Lana del Rey

"Say it, baby girl" Tom cooed softly against your ear, voice calm and sweet, like he hadn't been torturing you, pushing you to the brink of insanity, blurring the line between pleasure and pain, for almost two hours now. 

As if he wasn't buried balls deep into your tight heat, fucking you raw. 

But no, the bastard wasn't even winded. He was completely under control, as always.

It was unfair.

"Say it, come on" He insisted, "Just three little words, and it'll be over. Just three little words… and master will let you come" 

You dug your fingertips on the sun warmed skin of his shoulders, his back, holding on for dear life as he kept on slamming his hips against yours, railing you into the pool wall. 

You opened your eyes in an effort to clear your mind, to focus on something other than his big cock, thrusting inside you so deep and so hard, that you were sure he was bruising your womb. The bright blue ripples, glistening under the afternoon sun, that he was creating around the both of you with every move, caught your eye. That was exactly the way he was making you feel: wave after wave of pleasure, crashing, growing, amplifying inside you, until you were swept away in the riptide. Until it was hard to breath, useless to fight. You were just too exhausted for that, the only option left was surrendering. 

"I'm sorry, sir" You sobbed, "I'm so sorry"

Tom leaned back, fingers tilting your chin up to look into your hooded eyes and you realized he was only using one arm around your waist to hold you up. It shouldn't amaze you anymore, how strong he was, but it did.

"See, I don't think you are" He tsked, slowing down his movements again, making you whine in complaint, "sorry that you're being punished, maybe. But not sorry for what you did…" 

"No, please, I'm sorry" you begged, "please, sir, let me come"

He chuckled. He loved seeing you like that, his little hellcat, his cold, proud ice queen, reduced to a docile, pleading little kitten. And he was the one to do that to you. No one else but him could tame you, could satiate the hunger within you. 

"I'm not being cruel because I want to, baby girl" Tom explained, thumb brushing away the tears you hadn't realized were falling. "I have to make sure to ingrain the lesson inside that pretty head of yours: Fire is messy, dangerous. I don't want you playing with matches anymore…"

You pouted, petulantly,

"But fire is fun!"

Your boyfriend's face fell, as you realized too late exactly what you had done.

"Did you just "but" me?"

Horrified, you opened your mouth to deny it, to defend yourself, to say anything, but a single stern look from his deep brown eyes was enough to shut you up. His grip around you tightened, as he carried you to the shallow part of the mosaic studded pool. A whine left your mouth as Tom slid out of you and placed you on your feet, the water reaching up to your waist.

"Strip" he ordered, pointing at your white bikini, askew and covering nothing at all already, but you guessed whatever plan he had, he didn't want anything in the way. 

"Lay back, I want you to float on your back" he continued, once your bathing suit was off. You obeyed once again, eyes never leaving his face as he walked around you, disturbing the waters. He seemed to consider for a moment, before grabbing hold of your hip, guiding you closer to the edge of the pool. 

"Hold on" 

Once again, you submissively did as you were told without questioning it, reaching back and grabbing onto the sand colored tile. 

Tom let your hips go, but kept his hands on you, trailing soft caresses from your collarbone, down to your breasts, tearing a moan from your lips when his blunt fingernails catched on your over sensitized nipples. 

"My pretty little girl," he hummed, approvingly, "like it when I play with your pretty tits?"

"Yes, sir"

He cupped his hand under the water, only to later bring it to your chest, watching the droplets fall from his palm to your soft mounds, to the valley between them, catching the sun, glimmering on your skin. 

"My precious girl…" Tom praised, circling you to step back between your legs. He never stopped touching you, massaging your calves, your thighs, stopping a breath away from where you needed him the most.

Your weak sigh made him chuckle,

"Want something, princess? Want me to touch you here?" His index finger finally traced your slit, gathering your wetness, different from the water surrounding you, playing with you, breaching your entrance just a falange, only to withdraw and flick your clit instead. 

"Like it when I play with your pussy too?" He didn't really expect a reply. Luckily, because you didn't think you could have formed words, as he used his index and middle finger to penetrate you at last, wasting no time in searching for that perfect spot inside you that made you see stars. 

"God, look at you… you're so wet, don't even need lube for this. Juicy little cunt" 

He stroke his big, fat cock once, twice, before using the same hand to help guide himself inside you. Without removing the fingers from his other hand. 

You cried out at the feeling, the fullness. He was stretching you to your limit, tearing you in half.

And you fucking loved it.

"You can take it, can't you princess?" It wasn't hard for Tom to realize your cries and sobs were of bliss, "My perfect girl can take everything I give her… Fuck! Taking it so well"

You couldn't have replied even if you had wanted to, you were in ecstasy, weightless, floating, soring. Helpless to the tsunami of sensation as Tom started thrusting again, slow and measured, careful of not hurting you. He was close to bursting himself, but you were his priority, fingertips never stopping rubbing against your g-spot, as your screams grew higher and louder. 

"So fucking tight… my baby needs stretching"

You whimpered. His breathy voice as he talked filth to you was always your undoing.

"So tight… gonna milk me so good…"

He could see the muscles of your entire body starting to lock, "Gonna come for me, baby girl? That's it… you can let go… come for your master" 

You didn't even realize you were holding it until he gave you permission to let go, but when he did, you came immediately, hard, every cell of your body exploding into a million sparks. 

Oxygen deprivation at just the right time could do that to you. 

"Shhhh, you're safe. I got you" Tom's voice was the next thing you were aware of, as he held you close to him with both arms, all of his skin against yours sending you to overdrive as he kept on rocking inside you.

You locked your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, urging him on to go faster and harder. 

"Baby…"

"More" You demanded, "Come inside me… please sir, I want your come"

He growled against your neck, but complied, moving you up and down his shaft, using you to get himself off. 

"Want you to come for me again" He gasped. You shook your head,

"I… I can't"

"You can and you will" His voice broke no arguments as he squeezed you against him tighter, pelvis grinding against your clit. 

"Tom… please, no"

"Oh yeah" he moaned against your ear, "my baby girl has to learn her lesson" 

Your head was too muddled, too confused to decide if you wanted to get closer to the pleasure or further from the pain, but in the end it didn't matter, you were too weak to push him away, anyway. 

"Good girl… isn't it better when you stop fighting? When you just obey?"

You nodded your head minutely, all the answer you could manage, but it seemed to be enough for him. A couple thrusts later, and he was bitting down on your shoulder, releasing deep inside of you, the pulsing of his cock against your overstimulated entrails sending you into climax again.

On shaky legs, he carried you to the steps of the stair of the pool before collapsing on them, with you on his lap.

"God… that was…"

"Amazing" You finished for him, placing a soft kiss on his sweaty forehead. His replying smile was nothing short of ethereal. 

"You were incredible, babe"

"Well, you weren't half bad yourself" Your chuckle died in your throat, as you saw his lips fall. You followed his eyes to the transparent film dressing covering half your right arm, where the gasoline had splashed your jacket and caught fire a few days before, when you had gone against his orders and burnt down the Collucci's place instead of waiting for the boys. 

"I'm sorry" You said, sincerely, "I'll wait for reinforcements next time. I won't act alone again, I promise"

"I know you won't" He deadpaned, "You are off the field for a month" 

"What?? No! Tommy, that's too long!" You complained. He only smirked,

"Don't worry, princess" The mischievous glint in his eyes foretold trouble. For you. "I can keep you entertained until your punishment is over…"

[x-childish-x]

Hi- may I ask for a Bucky x girlfriend reader. He has been away on mission for a long time, so when James finally reunites with his lover - things gets heated and rough rather quickly! But he can help himself getting a guilt-trip afterwards in the shower, seeing all the marks and bruises he has caused and branded her body with...

Guilty Pleasure

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Fandom: Marvel

Warnings: SMUT!, NSFW, slight pain kink, some manhandling, explicit unprotected sex, sad/guilty Bucky

Word Count: 1,556

A/N: Hello! First, thank you for this request! I'm sorry it's quite long, but I feel like it's definitely worth it!! I really hope you enjoy this and that it's what you wanted. Feedback is always appreciated!

Summary: Things quickly get steamy when Bucky returns from a long mission, but he's later ridden with guilt from the results of your pleasure. 

(gif not mine!)

You were the only thing on Bucky's mind. He didn't care about anything but getting back to you. Steve was flying the Quinjet home, and Bucky was truly beginning to get annoyed at his best friend for not flying faster, even though Steve was going full speed. Steve barely had time to lower the back before Bucky was out of the plane and quickly walking to your room.

He ignored Tony telling him he needed to do a debriefing before going to you. Steve smiled, telling Tony to leave him be. After all, Steve and he had been on that damn mission for just over three weeks. And now, as Bucky bound down the hall towards your shared room, he found himself considering the idea of never going on another mission.

Your face lit up the moment the door to your room opened, and without a second thought, you flew off your bed and slammed into Bucky's chest, "Bucky!"

Bucky smiled, squeezing you tightly, "Hey doll!"

You pulled back, crashing your lips onto Bucky's as he lifted you off the ground, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist. He smiled into the kiss, deepening it as he stepped further into the room, locking the door behind him. You pulled back, slightly out of breath, and connected your foreheads.

"Someone's eager," Bucky teased, walking towards your bed.

You frowned playfully, "Don't tease me. I've missed you."

"Don't worry, doll," Bucky smirked, laying you down, "There won't be much teasing at all. I've missed you far too much to spend time teasing you."

It didn't take long for Bucky to strip you both of your clothes. His kisses were almost as hot and needy as his touch. Sloppy kisses and bites being placed all over your neck and chest. Bucky kept to his promise. He had missed you far too much to consider teasing you much at all, and he'd missed you far too much to even consider how rough he was being. 

You didn't mind though. Bucky was manhandling you just enough that it wasn't unbearable, and the idea of him being this desperate and needy for you turned you on like you couldn't imagine. He slammed into you quite quickly, hardly giving you time to adjust to his massive size before he began to thrust into you. Your moans filled the entire room as he set his pace, his hands gripping your waist incredibly tight, the slight pain only adding to your pleasure.

Bucky's grunts and groans combine with your moans as his thrusts become animalistic. At this point, your sure that everyone knows exactly what you two are doing, especially with the headboard slamming into the wall the way it is. Bucky's grip on your hips tightens, and you whimper in pleasure at the feeling of Bucky fucking you into your bed. 

The super-soldier's head drops to your shoulder as he nips at it, his grunts getting louder as you cry, "Feels s'good Buck!"

He groans at your words, his metal arm coming to grip your throat lightly, his flesh hand shifting to grab your left leg and hoist it up over his shoulder. The new angle elicits a string of curse words from your mouth as Bucky's pace somehow quickens, his flesh hand returning to grip your hip. 

"Fuck, you're taking my cock so well, doll," Bucky groans, nipping your collarbone, "S'well. Missed you too much... way too much."

Your whines go a higher pitch as you grip Bucky's shoulders tightly, "'M gonna cum."

Bucky nods. He knows already. He can feel you clenching around him, and before he can even tell you to cum, your clenching even tighter around his cock. Your orgasm slams into you, your legs shaking slightly as Bucky fucks you through your high. Despite his efforts, it'd been three weeks, and your clenching is too much as Bucky shoots his load into you, his metal hand leaving your throat and reaching to squeeze your thigh that's still rest on his shoulder.

"Fuck," Bucky curses, his head shifting from the right side of your chest to the left side, nipping that side of your collarbone. He laughs softly as he lets down your leg, his metal arm releasing your throat, "We should probably shower now."

A giggle escaped your lips as you nodded, Bucky kissing his way from your collarbone up to your lips. You smiled as he pulled out, suppressing a soft groan as he did so. You allowed Bucky to help you up and usher you towards your bathroom. He started the shower, getting the water warm before you two slipped in. 

You hummed contently at the warm feeling, knowing that no words needed to be said as Bucky grabbed the soap. Showers together were routine for you two, so you stood patiently as Bucky washed your back before gently turning you by your shoulder. Your eyes fluttered shut as you let Bucky's hands glide over your body, lathering you in soap. Bucky smile at your reaction, finally taking his eyes off your face to admire your body. Or should he say, what was left of it? 

Bucky looked over your body, his eyes immediately noticing the spots on your waist and hips where bruises were quickly forming, bruises in the shapes of his hands. He noticed a similar bruise forming on the thigh he'd hoisted over his shoulder, and even various spots along your chest and collarbones had bruises forming from him biting too hard. However, what broke Bucky was the faint bruises forming around your neck. He stumbled in the shower, soap dropping from his hands as he stumbled out, desperate to give you distance from him.

Your eyes flew open at the sudden commotion, just barely seeing Bucky fleeing the bathroom with a towel around his waist. You called for him repeatedly, but he ignored you, trying to dry himself as fast as possible. You were quick to rinse and get out, wrapping a towel around your body.

When you entered your bedroom, you saw Bucky yanking on a shirt and heading towards the door, making fear spike in your chest, "James Buchanan Barnes, you will not leave me alone in this damn room again," Bucky froze at the crack in your voice. He knew if he turned around, he'd see you on the verge of tears, "I don't know what I did wrong but don't leave me alone again."

"What you did wrong!?" Bucky snapped, spinning around, "This isn't what you did. It's what I did! Look at yourself! Have you even looked in the mirror? Seen the way I... the way I scarred you, hurt you."

Bucky watched intently as your eyebrows scrunched, and you slowly turned towards the mirror in your room, opening the towel to examine your body. He waited for your face to contort into disgust, for you to turn around and scream at him to leave, but it never came. You simply examined your body before wrapping your towel back around you and turning to Bucky.

"Buck... baby, they're just bruises," You spoke softly, walking towards him.

Fear spiked within Bucky, and he quickly stumbled backward, tripping over his own feet slightly as he slammed into your door. He shook his head rapidly, making you freeze as tears rose within his eyes. The room fell silent as Bucky's chest heaved with each breath he took, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks.

"I hurt you," Bucky croaked out, "I scarred you with... with those marks, those bruises that you should never have."

"Buck," You whispered, "You didn't hurt me. It felt good. We were just caught up in the moment."

"No, no, no," Bucky cried softly, his head dropping to the floor, "Don't try to justify this, don't try to make this okay."

"You didn't mean it!" You huffed, closing the distance between you and Bucky, "You didn't mean it, Buck. I'm not mad at you. I'm not even the slightest bit upset. In fact, I'm kind of happy. I can't wait to make Sam and Steve uncomfortable with all these hickies."

A giggle left your lips, and Bucky had to fight off a smile at his favorite sound. Slowly, you cupped his cheek, drawing his gaze to you. You gently wiped away the tears, leaning up to kiss Bucky's nose with a smile.

"I love you so much, Bucky. Please don't feel guilty over something so small."

"What if I do it again?" Bucky whimpered, his cerulean orbs locking on yours, "What if I really hurt you one time?"

"Buck... baby... you won't hurt me. I trust you more than anyone, and if you went too far, I would tell you. Besides that, though, you would know if you were going too far, and I trust that you would stop."

A small smile came to Bucky's lips as he took in the fact that you were still soaking wet, wrapped in only your towel with a slight shiver, "How'd I get so lucky?"

"How did I get so lucky?" You countered, "I love you so much, Bucky."

"I love you more, doll," Bucky kissed your forehead before a smirk came over his face, "You really think we can make Steve and Sam uncomfortable with those hickies?"

"Oh definitely, Steve will wish they never found him in the ice."

[some-kindofgnome]

Kinktober #6: Senseless: Katsuki Bakugo

In which Bakugo fucks you *senseless.* Hardee har har. 

Characters: Katsuki Bakugo / f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please), aged up characters, pro hero Bakugo, sensory deprivation, ice cubes, mentions of bondage, strong language

Notes: Day six! And my first dive into the wonderful world that is writing Bakugo. Lemme tell you, this man can get it any damned day of the week. Here’s hoping I’ve done him justice. 

Today’s prompt is “Blindfolded.” Please forgive the terrible puns- mine, and... “yours.” 😂 

Kinktober Masterlist

“Quit squirming.”

“Come closer. I can see you with my fingers.”

“Ow- I said cut it out!”

Not even the gruffness in Bakugo’s voice is enough to spoil your fun. You’d agreed to try this with him wholeheartedly; now that everything’s in place, though, you’re having trouble taking it seriously.

Considering the rocky way your relationship began, dating Bakugo has turned out to be surprisingly peaceful. He’s got a wicked temper, but to you he’s only ever gruff. A little grouchy sometimes, for sure, but that’s kind of what you liked so much about him. You like knowing about the soft side that he shows only you, especially when he spends so much time out there kicking ass.

Still, he’s not always very good at expressing himself. Or asking for things. Though he’s absolutely feral in bed, when it comes to trying new stuff, he tends to get clammed up and tell you to forget about it before he can even get the ideas out.

That’s why, when he’d actually suggested blindfolding you, you jumped at the chance. Now, spread out on your bed with one of your silk scarves wrapped around your head, you feel badly. He’s never going to open up to you again, if you giggle your way through this.

You let your hands pull back from wherever you’d accidentally grabbed him- mostly skin, with a corner of fabric somewhere by your thumb- and drop them back to the mattress. He’s already threatened to tie you up if you don’t keep your hands to yourself, but you’d never been very good at taking his threats seriously.

You take him seriously, though. Maybe it’s time to start showing him that.

“Okay,” you sigh, curling your toes against the blankets a little before letting your legs go slack. “I’m done. Promise. Have I mentioned how sexy you look tonight?”

You can hear his eyes rolling.

“That’s it,” he grunts, and the bed creaks as he climbs off it.

“Wait,” you plead. “No, come back. Katsuki, please.”

The bed creaks again, only faster this time. His knees part your thighs first. Then his hands land on your wrists, pinning them to the mattress. His nose brushes your jaw and then he nips at the crook of your neck, making you yelp.

You’re not sure if your senses are heightened, but the fact that you don’t know what to anticipate certainly makes it feel that way.

“Behave yourself,” he growls in your ear, and you’re not laughing anymore. Instead you mewl, arching your bare body up against his clothed one. He’s been nice enough to strip you down to your underwear before getting you situated, but you’re starting to wish he’d finished the job.

“I will,” you promise breathlessly, but he’s not waiting for you. Already he’s started to trail his mouth down the column of your throat, finding that tender spot between your collarbones and sinking his teeth into it.

“B-baku… Baby,” you whimper. Already his hands are starting to roam, too, tracing up your bare thighs. He snaps the strap of your underwear as you draw a breath and hold it tight.  

“Who’s laughing now?” He chuckles deeply against your ear. His fingers dip under the hem of your panties and he teases them over the tender mound of your pussy. Your soles dip and press into the blankets at either side of him, and you push them away from you to let your thighs naturally fall open.

“Fuck,” he snarls. His fingertips are nudging further, now, pressing insistently between your thighs to swipe deftly over your slit. It’s not the first time he’s touched you, but it’ll never quite get old. You feel him coming, but you still squirm beneath his hands.

“You’re fuckin’ soaked. That’s what I thought, honey. Laugh all you want, but I know you love this.”

He keeps his face nuzzled right against the crook of your shoulder as one of his fingers presses forward, sliding indulgently into your tight heat. You clench around him and let your head fall back. It’s almost relaxing, to be trapped in cool darkness while he fills you with such heat.

“That’s it, honey. Lemme feel you, all stretched out for me. You feel ready for my cock already.”

“I am,” you whine, and if you could see his face right know you know he’d be grinning. He loves you like this, falling apart and desperate for him.

“Then I hope you’re ready to be patient,” he replies. His voice drops, deceptively tender. “Because you’re gonna be here a while before I give you what you want.”

You hate the lurch of excitement that promise sends through your chest. In the moment, you hate being teased. You don’t like being told ‘no,’ and you don’t like waiting for your release. But Bakugo’s good. He knows how to build you slowly- so slowly sometimes, you forget how far he’s brought you- until he throws you over the edge with reckless abandon.

And the higher he climbs with you, the harder you land at the bottom. It’s worth it. Every. Damned. Time.

He shifts, drawing his weight away from you. You almost protest, but you can hear his footsteps pausing a few feet from the bed and you know he’s not going far. When he comes back, he’s accompanied by another sound. It’s delicate and light- almost musical, but you can’t place it without any visual cues.

“Hold still.” The mattress dips as he sits down on its edge, placing whatever’s making that sound next to him.

“What is that?” You turn your head, as if that’s going to help you at all.

He doesn’t answer, leaning toward you. You feel his hands clasp around your upper arms, and he tugs you toward him slightly.

“Sit up.” You do as you’re told and he reaches behind you, unclasping your bra. As he tugs it off your arms and chest you settle back against the pillows, the thrill of exposure sending goosebumps across your skin. He chuckles again- so one of you is allowed to laugh, then.

“Cold already?” He presses. “I haven’t even gotten started yet.”

There’s more rustling. You clue in a half-second too late.

Something frigid drips onto your sternum, rolling down your ribcage and onto the bed.

“Katuski, whaaaaah- hahh….”

The words die as your voice goes supersonic in response to the freezing dribble of the ice cube he’s pressed to your heated skin. He’s started in that tender spot between your collar bones, but the drips are already sliding into your neck and down your chest as the cube melts under his warm palm.

“You like that?” He’s purring now, prompting you, and you nod shakily because despite your better judgements you do. Despite your better judgements you’ve chosen this man as your life partner and despite your better judgements he continues to amaze you.

As you’re revelling in your choice of partner, he’s busy trailing the ice cube down between your breasts. He’s holding it tightly between his fingers- you can tell, they keep brushing your cooling skin. But when there’s not enough to hold, he just smooths his fingertips across your belly and reaches for another one.

The ice is melting fast under his touch- he’s always running warm- not that you mind. When he comes to you with the next one, he doesn’t waste time building you up to the sensation. Instead, he presses the divot of one cube directly against your nipple and covers the whole thing with his palm. You howl.

By the time the second cube is melted you’re trembling beneath him, both nipples hard and tender and pussy throbbing with heat. He’s peeling your underwear down your legs and you’re not sure whether you’re about to get him, finally, or another ice bath, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

Never a dull moment with Katsuki Bakugo.

“You ready for me yet, honey?”

“For the last time, fuck, please, baby.” You don’t recognize the desperate sound of your voice, but you don’t care at this point. Any leftover vestiges of pride have been frozen away.

“Hmm,” he growls, bending close to distract you from the fact that he’s dipping his hand into the ice bowl one more time. You might cry. Two ice cubes and you’re already losing it.

“Want you cold and dripping for me.”

So it’s gonna be like that.

He pushes an ice cube against the swell of your clit- no warning, no build up, and you give a strangled sob of pleasure. Your hips buck and struggle against his palm, but you don’t try to push him away- it’s not that bad- especially not when it starts to melt and the glorious sensation of cool water drips down your slit.

“That’s better,” he hisses. His pants rustle as he climbs away from you, leaving you with fresh drips of cold water between your legs. When he gets back onto the bed, you can feel the warmth of him more powerfully than before and you know he’s naked.

He presses the tip of his cock against you and you both groan from the chest.

“Fuck, you’re freezing. God damn, honey, let me warm you up.”

He pushes forward until the head of his cock slips past the tightness of your entrance, then bottoms out in one smooth thrust. The contrast between your cool skin and his heated body is immaculate- you’re already clenching your muscles, wanting more of his perfect stretch.

“That’s it, honey. That’s it. Take all of it,” he mumbles. He grabs your thighs and settles into a graceful rhythm- smooth and steady, with the easy slap of his skin on yours punctuating every breath.

You reach down before you lose yourself in the pleasure, grabbing his wrists and squeezing tight. You’ll hold on to him until he’s finished with you- you can’t help but want to touch him. And you’re taking advantage of the fact that he’s decided not to tie you up.

“Fuck, you look so good on my cock, honey. Look at you.”

His voice is starting to break already. The buildup’s been bad enough for both of you. You already know you’re not going to last long, but the situation is intensified when his thumb settles over the cooled swell of your clit. The skin is rapidly warming again and he starts to rub you in gentle circles, doing his best to keep time with his pumping hips.

“That’s it,” he groans again. You’re starting to seize and tighten around him- your palms twitching over his wrists, your thighs starting to clench. You don’t even have to warn him anymore. He knows when you’re on the edge. Sometimes even before you do.

“Katsu-ki,” you whimper, pushing the last syllable of his name out alongside a tight cry of ecstasy.

“I got you, honey,” he rasps in an instant of tenderness, and he swipes his thumb urgently across your clit as his thrusts sharpen. “I got you. Let go for me, sweetness.”

You don’t have a choice. Your orgasm rushes over you in a tsunami of relief and pleasure. Your eyes squeeze shut in the pitch black and your hips rail down against his, throwing off his rhythm but making him snarl as your pussy convulses around his shaft.

As you’re coming down from the edge, he tugs the blindfold off your head and your vision is thrown into blinding light. Your eyes are barely adjusted by the time you realize that he’s not long for this world, either.

“Fuck, sweetness,” he pants, repeating the same thing under his breath and tossing an airy cry of your name with it. He drives his hips into you with backbreaking force and stops. Every muscle in his body drawn tight.

Then he loses it.

One of the greatest privileges he’s ever given you is pulling off that blindfold in time for his orgasm. He pulls a face like nothing you’ve ever seen, his jaw pulling tight as his brow goes slack.

Sometimes you’re so caught up in your own pleasure that you don’t even get to see it. But this time you get to look and nothing else. You get to stare in awe as the beautiful man above you loses himself. The warm burst of his climax fills you and you are full of him, body and soul. His hips stutter inside you as he forces a few shaky thrusts against you, and then it’s over and he collapses. His torso folds over yours as he buries his head in the pillow just over your shoulder.

Slowly, he goes soft inside you. Then he pulls out and rolls onto his side, breathless. Gorgeous.

After a long few moments of quiet, you break the silence. You stare up at the ceiling, grinning to yourself.

“Well,” you sigh, licking your lips. “Ice cubes, huh? Can’t say I saw that coming.”

Bakugo rolls over to silence you with a kiss and a snarl, but he’s smiling against you.

[cablesscutie]

Inspired by @hayleynfoster’s comic and some hilarious headcannons about the littlest steambaby with Hayley and @favlie​

Read it on AO3

1.

The day Avatar Aang comes to meet his second niece, Fire Lord Zuko refuses to let his youngest child out of sight.  Katara rolls her eyes, and reminds her husband that neither of their children had ended up psychologically disturbed because of their flights.  “Not,” she adds, pointing at Aang, “that I am allowing a repeat, but I think just holding her while firmly on the ground will be fine.”

“Mmmm,” Zuko hesitates, curling Kallik closer to his chest.  Her big eyes blink up at the adults guileless from her blanket.  “No.”

“You let Azula hold her!” Aang argues.

“She doesn’t do anything with the babies!” Zuko shoots back.  It’s not strictly true, he knows, but his sister’s ritual with newborns is unsettling in a much different way.  She simply stares deep into each child’s eyes upon being handed them, until some kind of understanding passes between her and the baby.  Results have varied, but the most important part is that there was no threat to life and limb.  

Katara’s raised eyebrow says that she also doesn’t believe Zuko’s words, but she doesn’t say anything.  They are, after all, a united front - to the children, to politicians, to their friends.  In the privacy of their chambers, however, he knows he will be hearing about this.

2.

Katara and Zuko take the kids to spend Kallik’s first birthday at the South Pole.  It’s a tradition they’ve observed with all three, and Zuko always looks forward to going to visit her family.  The house is loud and chaotic, full to bursting with people, the exact opposite of his own lonely childhood.  There is no posturing, and everyone loves and squabbles openly.  On this particular visit, they have overlapped with Aang’s stay with Sokka and Suki, so Gran-Gran’s house is in even more of an uproar than usual by the time Zuko and Katara arrive.

Kya immediately dashes off to coo over her little cousins as they toddle around behind Pakku, pretending to be otter penguins.  Satoshi runs to the kitchen to be showered in kisses and cookies from Gran-Gran.  Hakoda finds them barely out of their parkas and already thoroughly abandoned.

“I could’ve sworn you had at least one other child,” he tells Katara, scratching his head as he pretends to search for his missing grandchildren.  She laughs and hugs her father tight.  Neither of them let go for long moments, and Zuko’s throat feels tight when he notices his father-in-law’s misty eyes.  He looks down at Kallik, thinks of his other two children, and wonders for the thousandth time how Hakoda could ever forgive him for keeping Katara so far away.  It’s why he hands his daughter over easily when her grandfather waggles his fingers expectantly and says, “Alright, give her here.”

Hakoda settles Kallik on his hip with practiced ease, and pulls Zuko into a brief hug with his free arm.  “Good to see you, son.”  

Zuko clears his throat.  “You too,” he says, and Katara laughs softly at his awkward shuffling, amused by how he doesn’t know what to do with his hands without a baby in his arms.  She answers his question by lacing their fingers together as she leads him deeper into the house to find her brother and their friends seated around the hearth fire watching the kids run around.

Hugs are exchanged all around, and Zuko settles into their familiar company.  Hakoda joins them after taking Kallik to say hello to Gran-Gran and Pakku, and bounces the baby on his knee to make her laugh.  Aang makes silly faces at her that have her letting out piercing giggles and reaching out to try and grab at the wooden beads of his necklace.

“Well clearly she’s bored of me,” Hakoda says, making to hand her off to her uncle.  “Here you go -”  Zuko leans over and intercepts.

“Oh no.  No baby catapult,” he says, shaking his head.

Aang gives him a pout to rival Momo.  “Come on, we’re indoors!”  Katara clears her throat, and when Zuko glances over, her eyes are narrowed at him.  With a sigh, he holds Kallik out to Aang.

“Fine.  But I’m watching you.”

3.

Extended family vacations to Ember Island always sound like a good idea to Katara.  At first.  When her husband is burnt out and aching, and the kids are climbing the walls, and she just wants to lie in the sun with a book, it seems like the cure for everything.

And then they arrive.  Somehow, much like she forgets the excruciating pain of childbirth, she never recalls the onslaught of chaos and catastrophe that comes every vacation.  Like the time Sokka got stung by a jelly-ray.  Or the time Suki and Zuko got in a fight about disciplining each other’s kids.  Or the time every single one of the kids managed to get sunburnt and couldn’t sleep.  Every year, it’s always something, and somehow, it usually ends up being at least partially her problem to solve.

This year, though, is somehow turning out alright.  They reach day three without major incident, and almost entirely without tears - a near miracle for a vacation involving five children under the age of ten.

“I’m almost done with my first book already,” she tells Zuko as they rock slowly in a hammock on the deck, whispering in hopes of keeping any listening spirits from knowing that she’s gotten her hopes up.

“Good, you deserve the break,” Zuko says.  He looks on the verge of sleep despite the fact that the sun is still climbing in the sky.  The dark circles beneath his eyes are already faded almost to nothing.  She sighs happily and grabs her book, but before she can actually crack it open, she hears Toph cackling and her Mom Senses light up.  Zuko calls after her in surprise as she leaves the hammock swaying wildly behind her, but she doesn’t look back on her way to the beach.  

When she arrives, it is just in time to see Toph pick up Kallik, a wicked smile on her face.  Sokka and Suki’s twins are further down the beach standing beside Aang, both of them jumping up and down with excitement, waiting for something.

“Go long, Twinkle Toes!”  Katara’s eyes go wide, and faster than should be possible, she reaches them, yanking Kallik out of Toph’s hands.  “Hey!”

“Absolutely not!”  Katara says, scowling.

“I was gonna catch her!”  Aang shouts.  Katara shakes her head.

“This is not happening.  No way.”  Then, silently lamenting the loss of quiet time with her husband, Katara looks at the twins and asks, “Who wants to go get some ice cream?

4.

At Zuko’s request, his birthday is not a big deal with his family.  It’s a combination of the fact that the entire Fire Nation loses its mind about the day anyway, so he is all but forced to spend a day attending a festival in his honor, and the fact that he is used to his birthday being a marker of all the disappointments he has been in the past year.  It is a long-standing compromise with his wife that she is allowed to throw him a small, family-only party, to be kept within the bounds of the garden.  He enjoys the excuse to get everyone together without a barrage of meetings involved, and the rest of their family is so boisterous in comparison to him, he can almost forget that the day has anything to do with him at all.

For his thirtieth birthday, he makes the further concession of allowing Uncle to set up his new phonograph so there could be dancing.  Zuko is manning the crank, watching Katara and Kya swing each other around while Aang sits next to him, flipping through the records looking for the right song.

“Do you have a request too?” Zuko hears him ask, and turns to see Kallik has toddled away from Uncle Iroh and approached the Avatar.  She puts her hands on his knees and starts bouncing, flashing him a smile that shows all of her new teeth.  “You want upsies?” Aang coos, and reaches to scoop her up by the armpits.  Zuko clears his throat loudly, shooting Aang his best murder eyes, and the Avatar shrinks back into the collar of his robes a little.  “What about dance party?”  He lets Kallik grab onto his fingers and starts hopping around with her to the beat, hunched over and both of them giggling.

5.

“Oh Uncle Aaaaang!” Kya sings, striding out into the garden where Appa has just landed. She has Kallik on her hip, and Satoshi follows along at her heels, excited to see Appa and Momo again.  His pockets are already full of lychee nuts for his fuzzy friends.

“Hey guys!” Uncle Aang calls, his gangly arms waving excitedly.  “Are you the welcoming committee now?”  He lands in front of them on a gentle breeze, setting down his bag and grinning broadly.

“Mom and Dad are in a meeting,” Kya informs him.  “But somebody wanted to go for a little flight.”  She hitches the toddler higher and winks conspiratorially.  “If you catch my drift.”  Uncle Aang’s eyes go wide, and he looks between the kids with unease.  Satoshi feels terror grip his throat.  He knew his big sister was crazy, but would she really…?

“Oh I dunno, your Dad was pretty...adamant...that you all are grounded until further notice.”  Satoshi lets out a sigh of relief.

“Dad’s in a meeting,” Kya reiterates, as though being in a meeting involves entering another dimension.  She should know better, her brother thinks to himself.  Mom and Dad always find out when they’re up to no good, and as the sibling who’s usually leading the charge into trouble, Kya should definitely have that figured out by now.  Uncle Aang should absolutely know that by now, but with horor, Satoshi realizes that the Avatar is looking a little bit convinced.  “And we’re not gonna tell on you,” she wheedles.  Speak for yourself, Satoshi thinks, glancing around to see if there are any guards within earshot if he calls for their parents.  Sadly, it seems nobody has realized that the Avatar requires careful supervision.

“Well…” Uncle Aang considers, then comes to his decision, smiling once again.  “Alright, I guess one can’t hurt.  Who’s going?”  

Kya moves to offer Kallik to him, her tiny hands reaching out and making grabby motions.  Satoshi’s world goes into slow-motion.  There’s a roaring in his ears, and as if from outside his body, he hears his own voice say,

“I am.”  Kya and Uncle Aang blink at him, stunned.  Their uncle is the first to recover, and asks,

“Are you sure, kiddo?  I mean, you weren’t the biggest fan when you were a baby…”

“I want to try again,” he makes himself say, despite his sweating palms.  Uncle Aang grins and ruffles his hair.

“That’s the spirit!  You get that from your dad.” 

As his uncle’s hands grab him under the armpits, Satoshi hears Kya mutter, “It’s the self-sacrificing idiot gene,” and then he is gone.  As he soars through the air, he wonders if maybe his body hasn’t even left the ground yet.  He can’t feel anything.  Maybe he just died of panic and this is just his soul taking off for the spirit world.

Then he reaches the height of his arc and starts plummeting back to Earth, and the sensation of all his internal organs rattling around asserts the fact that he is very much still alive and experiencing this.  He closes his eyes before he gets anywhere close to the ground, so it comes as a surprise when he comes to a sudden stop, cradled briefly by robes smelling of hay and bison fur, before being deposited back on his feet.

“How’s the weather up there?” Uncle Aang asks him, patting him on the back.  Satoshi doesn’t know what the weather was like.  He doesn’t know anything except that solid ground beneath his feet may have replaced his mother’s hugs as his favorite feeling in the world.  He meets Kya’s eyes, and sees from her horrified expression that he must look like as much of a husk of a child as he feels.

A quiet, affectless “Thank you,” is all that he can manage to say, and then he is wandering back into the palace, where he shoves his head into the nearest antique vase and screams.

+1

“Psst.”  A small sound behind him has Aang on alert.  The Fire Nation Royal Palace hasn’t been a place of danger for years now, but with Toph and Sokka around, the probability of sneak attacks has risen a hundred fold.  He doesn’t see anything though, and goes to turn back around, only to be caught by a surprisingly firm grip on his cape.  About two feet below where he’d expected to find his assailant, Aang comes face to face with his youngest niece, Kallik.  Her expression is the same determined furrow of the brow that Katara and Zuko have shared for so long it is impossible to tell which parent bestowed the trait on her.  It has the eerie effect of summoning the terrifying force that is their combined will.  Aang already knows that whatever she wants from him, he’s going to cave, and it will probably get him in trouble.  “I hear you’re in the business of yeeting kids.  I want in.”

Aang sighs.  Zuko has been trying to prevent this day since the moment Aang met Kallik, and Kallik has been trying to evade her father’s overprotective tendencies since the moment of her existence.  It is a battle Katara has elected not to fight, likely remembering her own impossible stubbornness and the futility of trying to stand against it.  So it is with all of that knowledge that he says, “Okay.”

“Flameo!” Kallik cheers, punching at the air.

“Well ‘flameo’ was actually more of a greeting -”

“Let’s save the fun facts.  I wanna fly.”  With a creeping sense of dread, Aang follows the child pulling him along by the cape until they reach a courtyard.  Kallik turns to face him, plants her feet, and rubs her palms together.  “Alright,” she says, spreading her arms wide.  “I’m ready.”

“Here we go...I guess,” Aang says, glancing over his shoulder as he reaches out to scoop her up by the armpits.  The coast is clear, so he swings her around in circles a couple of times to get ready.  As his niece starts to giggle, the garden blurs, and wind ruffles his robes, Aang feels the giddy anticipation of liftoff.

He hoists Kallik, up, up, up.

And then her momentum carries her out of his hands, and the wind that has built up around them propels her even higher.  Her already small body shrinks until she looks more like the shadow of a bird in the night sky, clearing the palace roofs.  A happy shriek pierces the air.  Aang smiles, feeling her wonder as if it is his own.  This is always the best part of someone’s first flight - witnessing them discover the wind anew - and while taking Air Acolytes to glide at the Northern Air Temple is fun, nothing compares to sharing this part of his culture with his nieces and nephews.

Kallik tumbles back into his arms, eyes wide with wonder, ecstatic grin plastered across her face.  “Again!” she cries, the moment breath rushes back to her.  

Aang laughs and holds her on his hip.  As he always does, he asks, “How’s the weather up there?”

“The moon is huge!  And I could see the whole city!  And the ocean!”  Kallik’s pudgy hands move in broad, sweeping gestures so similar to her mother’s bending as she speaks.  He still remembers Katara’s delighted gasp the first time she flew, Toph’s bruising grip, Zuko’s shocked laugh.  This moment, too, will be another piece of the Air Nomad legacy living on.

As Aang tosses Kallik yet again, Katara finds Zuko leaning against a pillar at the edge of the courtyard, watching.  She approaches her husband, curious to find that he isn’t having a coronary at the sight of their daughter in freefall, and takes hold of his arm.

“You gonna yell at him?” she asks, feigning nonchalance.  He doesn’t look away from them, but he is smiling, serene.

“Eh, she seems fine.”

[eggtoasties]

socks of fate

Pairing: Sugawara Koushi/Reader

Rating: G

Summary: Maybe the red string of fate is actually cute patterned socks.

Word Count: 1.8k

AO3 Link: Here

__________________________________________________

Sugawara burrowed further into his jacket against the cold chill of early spring. He walked faster towards the café and relaxed his shoulders once he opened the door and basked in the warm heat. Looking around the coffee shop—light wood with brass fixtures, floor to ceiling windows admitting bright afternoon rays, and an abundance of greenery—he found Daichi and Asahi at a table against the side of the wall.

Catching their attention, Sugawara waved and headed towards them. It had been a while since they had all seen each other—busy with work and adult lives—but, they always made an effort to meet up at least once a month to catch up.

Home-bound, he walked towards his childhood friends. He came up to the table and Daichi and Asahi stood up in response. Asahi spun him around in a bear hug, engulfing Sugawara’s smaller frame. Sugawara pat Asahi’s back and teasingly felt up his biceps through his shirt.

“Still working out, man? You look good,” Sugawara said with a teasing wink which made Asahi blush and stammer.

“Don’t fluster our little man baby,” Daichi said faux-sternly, lightly slapping the back of Sugawara’s head. “It’s good to see you Suga; it feels like it’s been ages.”

Sugawara pulled Daichi into a bone crushing hug, slightly lifting Daichi onto his tiptoes making him chuckle.

“We just got here a few minutes ago, let’s all order,” Asahi said excitedly. “I tried their iced dirty chai with caramel and sweet cream a while back and it was incredible. Daichi blinked at him—he had forgotten Asahi’s sweet tooth. Both feeling bad for the barista, Sugawara and Daichi nodded indulgently to their friend.

The trio went up to the counter and headed back to their table with their drinks. Although it had been a few weeks since Sugawara had talked to his two friends, they fell into easy conversation as if no time had passed between them. They caught up on work, family, friends, random tidbits of gossip, and chattered about nothing in particular.

While absentmindedly listening to Daichi lament about one of his coworkers and Asahi’s gentle consolations, Sugawara looked at his friends seated across from him. It had been years and years since high school. Gone was the round curve of their jaws and the rosy glow of adolescence. Although they were sitting, Sugawara noted the air of confidence that seemed to emanate from the cut of Asahi’s strong shoulders and the pull of authority that orbited around Daichi.

“Hello,” Daichi questioned, waving a hand in front of Sugawara’s face, “are you even listening to me?” he pouted. “I was saying how Hitoshi-san is definitely stealing my lunches and you were too busy spacing out,” he finished with a huff. “Or were you just thinking of Asahi’s arms?” Daichi said, laughing at Asahi’s embarrassment.

Asahi self-consciously crossed his arms over his broad chest and looked away from his snickering friends only to still as something caught his eye. Daichi quieted as he looked past Sugawara as well. Sugawara’s placating trailed off when he realized he had lost their attention and started to turn backwards in his chair.

She was walking towards their table, hips swaying and hands fiddling with the lid of an iced drink. Sugawara turned back, rolling his eyes at their idiocy. He had forgotten that they regressed five years when someone pretty caught their eyes. Trying to start conversation again, he took a plastic knife and tapped it against the side of his cup in mock seriousness. “Gentlemen, if you would be so kind to bring your attention back to me—”

She had walked a little past their table, giving Sugawara what he thought was a dismissive glance—starting with his face and ending at his feet. Rude, he thought to himself, when she suddenly stopped, ice and coffee slushing against the side of the plastic cup, and spun to face Sugawara.

She looked intensely at his honey eyes and he felt his cheeks reddening. From his periphery he saw Daichi tense up and Asahi jump a little at the incoming confrontation. Sugawara smiled nervously and wondered what he possibly could have done to be in the middle of her warpath and immediately tried to apologize.

“Your socks!” she said brightly.

The boys froze in confusion and Sugawara felt the heat rise to his ears. Daichi and Asahi peeked under the table and didn’t even try to hold their laughter in. Sugawara had worn open toed sandals that day. Socks and sandals are a look he constantly insisted to his judgmental friends—birks, he argued, are also comfortable. But, at that moment, he was regretting not going for a more weather appropriate boot. One that would cover the pastel yellow chickens dancing across his ankles. With easter egg hats and baby bunnies. It was a gift from his mom—what monster would deny their mother, Sugawara was internally monologuing.

“A-ah, yeah they were a gift—” he choked out.

“We’re twins!” she shouted gleefully. Setting her drink on their table and reaching down to her boot, she unzipped the side zipper and started one legged hopping in attempts to pull the shoe off. Finally freeing her foot she presented her sock to the table.

They were clearly from the same brand, but instead of the easter motif, her yellow chickens were gathered around a Christmas tree and leaving milk and cookies out for chicken Santa.

Adorable, Sugawara thought.

She wriggled her foot at them before moving to put her boot back on. Teetering a little to the side, about to lose her balance, she let out a little squeak, windmilling her arms to remain upright.

Shooting up from their seats, the boys leapt up to try and catch her, but Sugawara was the first to place one steadying hand to her lower back and another on her shoulder. He ignored the little smirks Daichi and Asahi sent his way as they sat back down.

“Oh my god, thank you,” she said breathlessly. “That would have been so embarrassing,” she muttered to herself. Zipping her boot up and straightening, she looked at the trio and flushed. “Well, thanks for letting me expose my feet to you guys,” she joked while picking her drink back up.

“Thanks again,” she said to Sugawara and walked towards her friends who had been watching and were currently laughing and pointing good naturedly at her.

Dazed, Sugawara looked back towards Daichi and Asahi. Daichi looked incredibly amused and Asahi had placed his elbows on the table, hands cupping his cheeks, looking doe-eyed at Sugawara.

Ignoring them, Sugawara crossed his legs and took a sip of his drink.

“So…” Sugawara drawled, twirling his straw. “Lunch thief?” he said weakly, preparing himself for the onslaught of teasing.

.

As their drinks slowly emptied and seconds and thirds were bought, Sugawara couldn’t help but sneak glances at her. Her back was towards him, but he could see the way she talked animatedly with her hands and nodded vigorously at her friends. He saw the way she threw her head back in laughter and heard it ring across the café.

As the trio’s conversations were dwindling to an end and the sun was lower in the sky, Asahi and Daichi ganged up on Sugawara.

“God, just ask for her number,” Daichi grinned.

“You kept looking at her—I’m pretty sure all her friends noticed too,” Asahi supplied. He dodged as Sugawara’s hand came to swipe at him and Asahi laughed at his friend’s embarrassment.

“C’mon Suga,” Daichi said, “worst case scenario she says no.”

“But who’d ever say no to our Suga baby,” Asahi crooned, exaggeratedly batting his eyelashes.

Huffing, Sugawara complained, “Worst case scenario is that she says no,” crossing his arms as they laughed.

Before they could continue making fun at him, Sugawara delivered swift kicks to Daichi and Asahi’s shins, making them both bang their knees under the table and scowl at him. Running a nervous hand through his hair and trying to look nonchalant, he glared meaningfully at his friends as she started to walk towards him. He tried not to stare while he pretended to make conversation with a disgruntled Daichi and a pouting Asahi, but he tracked her coming closer and closer from the corner of his eye.

“So,” she started, hands in her back pockets swaying slightly on the balls of her feet.

“And that’s why you need to cut down on salt—” he looked at her and felt his pulse in his throat. “Hi,” Sugawara squeaked, sending a kick specifically at Daichi.

“So,” she said again, “I was wondering if we maybe had more in common than just our superior taste in socks,” ending her sentence at a slightly higher pitch. She twirled a strand of hair around her index finger watching Sugawara’s reaction. “Would you wanna get a coffee sometime?” she asked, eyes crinkling down at him. “But if not, totally fine,” she said quickly, “you don’t have to feel obligated because of our, uh, sock solidarity,” she laughed.

Sugawara’s brain stopped and he swore he could feel his heart in his mouth. He felt a surge of relief that he didn’t have to ask her out, and stared at the way her hair fell around her shoulders. He had the urge to run the tips of his fingers across the ends to see if it felt as soft as it looked. Feeling a sharp pain in his shin, he jumped in his chair and shook himself from his stupor. Feeling the blood rush to his cheeks as he realized he had been staring in silence, he nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes, I’d love to get coffee,” he said quickly, elated at the way she brightened at his response. “H-here,” he fumbled with his phone as he passed it to her. Punching her number in with a grin, she gave his phone back.

“Thanks,” he said softly, staring at the contact information on his screen. “How’s next week Saturday? Twelve-ish?” Sugawara said eagerly, unable to keep the smile from his face.

“Sounds good to me,” she said humming to herself. Looking to her right where her friends were unabashedly watching, she laughed. “Text me!” she said, walking away, “see you soon, chicken!” waving at his table.  

Waving back at her in a stupor, Sugawara felt as if his brain had left his body. He hardly heard Asahi’s whoops of encouragement or Daichi’s gentle teasing—he felt his pulse reverberate in his skull. He looked down at his feet and grinned.

As she left the café with one last wave, Sugawara beamed at the two in front of him and shot up from his seat. “Yes!” he shouted, pumping his fists in the air.

Daichi and Asahi leaned into each other and snickered. “Suga, you didn’t do anything,” Daichi said.

In response, Sugawara put his hands behind his head, and stared into the rafters.

“Look at the stupid grin on his face,” Asahi giggled.

Sugawara grinned impossibly harder.

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part One

Nessian Modern AU

Summary: Nesta Archeron isn't good with change. When her car breaks down in the middle of a storm and her sister sends one of her friends to pick her up, Nesta thinks there could be nothing worse than having to spend the night with a total stranger. Until she suddenly finds herself without an apartment. Despite only a night of knowing Nesta, Cassian is quick to offer her a room in his cabin free of charge, and Nesta, broke and without many social contacts, has no choice but to accept.

A/N: This fic is loosely inspired by @lady-therion 's fic Close Quarters. I couldn't stop thinking about Nesta and Cassian sitting in front of a fire, slowly getting to know each other, so this fic is a whole lot of that :) There's no strict plot structure to this so I'm not sure how long it's gonna be, but expect warm and fuzzy content in the beginning. Enjoy!

Masterlist

***

Cassian is in bed when he gets the text.

Feyre: hey i know it's late but i need you to do a huuuge favor for me

Feyre: i really hope you're not asleep yet

Cassian furrows his brows in concern, immediately thumbing back a text.

Cass: what's wrong?

Feyre takes a long minute to type back; wind howls and rain thrashes against his window while he waits. A long message finally appears.

Feyre: you know the shortcut through the woods off of main st? my sister's car broke down there and there's no 24/7 towing around. im all the way in velaris and won't be able to get there for another two hours, but i dont want her waiting in the woods in the middle of the night like murder bait. she's too proud to ask for help, but if you could go and pick her up that would mean a lot to me, please.

At the last sentence, Cassian immediately knows which sister Feyre is talking about. He glances out his window and curses under his breath. It's storming hell outside, and Nesta Archeron is sitting in a broken car in the middle of the woods somewhere.

He's already grabbed his keys and stuffed his feet into shoes when he realizes he never answered Feyre's text. He types out a short on my way and heads out the front door of the cabin, assaulted by rain and wind before he's even fully outside.

Cassian follows the location Feyre sends him, what should be a five minute drive taking almost fifteen in the storm.

Cassian has interacted with the oldest Archeron sister maybe twice in his three years of knowing Feyre. Once for an initial family meeting, where she gave a terse hello upon introduction to Cassian and his friends, before ignoring everybody for the rest of the dinner, and another time when he accidentally bumped into her as she was leaving Feyre's apartment. He remembers apologizing profusely, only to be given a weird look before she turned and left.

In summary, Cassian knows enough about Nesta to know that this won't be the most fun task he's ever been given. Still, he isn’t about to leave any woman rotting on the side of an empty road at this hour, in this weather.

There’s so much rain that he almost misses the car. His headlights catch on a lump of metal, and he slowly brings the truck to a stop. Throwing the gear in park, Cassian flips his hood over his head and runs out into the rain.

She’s already waiting for him when he reaches the car, standing in the freezing rain in nothing but a drenched sweater and jeans.

His first real words to Nesta Archeron come out surprisingly easy: “What the hell are you doing here?” he yells over the torrent.

“Making sure you could see me,” she shouts back. “You drive like a blind dog!”

Whatever Cassian says back gets lost in the rain, but soon he's ushering Nesta over to his truck and slamming the passenger door shut behind her. He returns to the driver's seat, Nesta audibly shuddering beside him.

He flips the air vents blowing hot air towards her. “You should’ve stayed in the car.”

Even soaked and freezing, Nesta summons up the energy to glare. “So you could run me over with your truck? No, thanks.”

“That’s an overreaction.”

Nesta doesn’t bother to reply. Silence fills the truck for a couple of minutes as Cassian tries to maneuver them out of the small backroad, carefully turning back for his cabin. There’s no way he can get Nesta back to her place tonight, and he suspects his phone notifications are already full of flash flood warnings.

Finally, he says, “I’m Cassian, by the way.”

Nesta looks at him like he’s stupid. “I know who you are.”

That takes him a little by surprise, but he only murmurs, “Okay, then.” He wonders how much Feyre told her sister about how this was going to go.

“We’re getting my car picked up first thing tomorrow,” Nesta says into the silence, “and Feyre will take me home so you don’t have to bother yourself.”

“It’s not a bother,” he responds a little too quickly. She only gives him another weird look, like she’s judging him to hell and back, and Cassian decides to quit speaking forever.

By the grace of some higher power, the drive back is faster than the drive to. The pounding of rain only gets heavier as Cassian pulls up to the house, until it becomes an unmistakable thunk. Nesta’s eyes shoot to the roof of the car. “What’s that,” she says sharply. Everything she says is sharp; he wonders if she does it consciously or not.

Another thunk hits the car, this time the windshield. Cassian sighs deeply at the ice assaulting the truck from all sides. “Hail,” he says, resigned with this whole night.

He and Nesta end up making another mad dash to the door, trying not to get hit by increasingly larger chunks of ice as they go. Nesta has a backpack that she holds close to her chest instead of using for protection from the hail, as if it’s a baby.

Once safely inside the cabin, she doesn’t let go of her grip on her bag as she looks around his home. “Nice place,” she breathes, eyeing the exposed wooden beams and towering glass windows. An iron-wrought chandelier lights up the main living area they’re in, lightning occasionally casting twisted shadows across the walls.

Cassian almost apologizes for it, before deciding that apologizing for having too nice of a house is one of those things that would earn him another weird look from Nesta. “Bathrooms are that way,” he says instead, pointing down the main hall. “I can get you some dry clothes…”

She’s already nodding sharply and heading for the bathroom, leaving Cassian to stand awkwardly in the entryway, soaked to the bone in the same sweats he was about to go to sleep in just an hour ago.

Upstairs, after changing into blissfully dry clothes, it takes Cassian a good five minutes to decide which of his shirts will work best for Nesta’s slim figure.

When he finally returns downstairs with sweats four times Nesta’s size, she snatches them out of his hands without a word and slams the bathroom door shut on his face. He stands there a moment longer, nods resolutely, and heads for the kitchen to whip up a hot beverage. Cassian has a feeling he won’t be getting any sleep tonight.

A couple of minutes later, Nesta appears in the kitchen doorway, looking hesitant and absolutely dwarfed in Cassian’s gray sweats. Somehow, she’s made the pants work, likely by rolling them up a hundred times.

Cassian’s eyes widen for a moment, realizing this is the longest look he’s gotten at Nesta since… well, since he first met her.

He remembers thinking she was stunning at that initial dinner at Feyre’s house all those years ago, but damn, he must have forgotten just how much. Because even messy and rumpled, Cassian can’t stop staring at her.

Nesta breaks the silence first. “Is that hot chocolate?” The hard edge has mostly left her voice, like the warm clothes have soothed her frayed nerves from the car ride.

“Um.” Cassian glances down at the steaming mug in his hands. “Yeah. You want some?” he offers before he can check himself.

Nesta further surprises him by nodding, tucking her sweater paws under her armpits. The position would look vulnerable and reserved on most people, but on her it’s just another fortification to her stiff demeanor. Cassian slides his mug over the marble island to her before starting on another drink for himself.

Feeling an urge to fill the silence while he works, Cassian babbles, “The guest rooms are upstairs. You can have your choice, but the master bedroom is mine, obviously.” He pours melted chocolate into a mug and grabs for cinnamon.

Nesta watches him move with her unnerving hawk eyes and nods slowly, taking careful sips from her mug. “I think I’m going to stay up and study for my midterms,” she finally responds. “You mind if I use your fancy living room?”

Cassian almost smiles at that. “The whole house is fancy,” he says. “But yeah, go for it.”

He’s surprised at how nice this feels. Not that having Feyre’s scary older sister over isn’t weird for him, but… having another presence in the cabin, especially at this late hour— it’s warm where Cassian’s nights are usually cold.

***

It’s past two in the morning when Nesta finally glances up from her laptop screen, eyes bleary and unable to take in another word of theoretical law. She’s rubbing her hands down her face when a sudden clap of thunder booms outside the cabin windows, making her nearly fall off the couch. “Christ,” she swears, unconsciously curling into herself.

“Scared of thunder?”

Nesta internalizes her surprise at the unexpected voice and glances up to see Cassian coming down the stairs, looking as awake as he did when he went to bed over an hour ago. Nesta becomes terribly aware of the state she’s in and has to fight to maintain her composure.

She peeled off Cassian’s oversized sweatpants as soon as he went upstairs, not having been able to take a step without almost tripping, and made up for the coldness of her bare legs by dragging the fur throw off the back of his leather couch and using it as a blanket.

“That's usually for decoration, you know.” Cassian gestures at the thick fur.

Embarrassment claws up her throat, for coming into this strange man’s house and taking his nice things and using them incorrectly. Her first instinct is to apologize, but the only thing she hates more than embarrassment is the word sorry. “I thought you were asleep,” she says instead.

Cassian only shakes his head as he takes a seat on the far end of the couch. “Sleep and I aren't friends tonight. I was thinking about watching a movie, but if you're still studying—”

Nesta quickly shuts her laptop, shaking her head. “I was just about to go upstairs,” she says, packing her things into her backpack. Despite the day she’s had and how heavy her eyelids are, she knows she won’t be able to sleep with the sporadic thunder still booming. She wants to ask Cassian if he has noise-canceling earplugs, but the last thing she wants is to inconvenience him further.

The fur throw slips off her as she stands, revealing her bare legs. She might be wearing the largest, least sexy sweater of all time, so she doesn’t know why she suddenly feels naked in front of Cassian. Risking a glance at the man himself, he only takes his eyes off the TV remote in his hand to say, “You can leave the pants behind if you don’t need them.”

Right. She neatly folded his sweats as soon as she took them off earlier, and now they sit patiently on the coffee table.

“It gets a little drafty at night,” Cassian adds, “but I stocked your room with blankets. It’s the second door on the left; I hope you don’t mind that I chose for you.”

Nesta distantly remembers him saying she could have her pick of bedroom. “I don’t care,” she says honestly. “But— thanks.” She clasps her bag to her chest and shuffles towards the stairs, only stopping at the foot of them when she remembers not to be rude. “Goodnight,” she calls out awkwardly, trying not to race up the stairs as she hears him say goodnight back.

Cassian’s cabin is without a doubt gorgeous, but Nesta still feels a little shock of surprise when she finds her designated room. Decked out with a four-poster bed and floor-to-ceiling windows, it’s nicer than any place Nesta’s ever stayed in before.

A bright flash of lightning fills the room, and Nesta’s shoulders immediately bunch up to her ears— the preparation doesn’t make the ensuing clap of thunder any less heart-thumping. Withholding a weary sigh, she moves to draw the thick curtains over the windows, hoping to add a barrier between herself and the storm. It’s going to be a long night.

***

The next morning, Nesta dials Feyre’s number for the third time, growing more irritated by the second. It’s eight a.m., but Feyre is supposed to be picking Nesta up before noon so she can take her car in and return home to her shitty basement apartment.

Finally, the line clicks. “Hello?” a groggy voice drawls over the phone.

“When are you coming?” Nesta demands.

“Uh, what?” Feyre still sounds like she’s waking up. Nesta could hiss.

“You promised you’d be here first thing today, Feyre. I can’t hang around at your friend’s place all day. I want to wear my own clothes and use my own toothbrush.”

“Oh, that,” Feyre says. “Listen, can you just have Cassian take you home?”

“Feyre—”

“I know you hate interacting with strangers, but he’s one of my best friends. It’s a two-hour drive up to the mountains, Nesta,” she speaks as if she’s trying to reason with a kindergartener.

Frustration boils up in Nesta, feelings that she’s in too much disbelief to put words to right now. Her jaw works, and all she ends up spitting is, “You promised.”

“You’re being dramatic. I’m going back to sleep now, call me when you get home safe.” Over the line, Nesta can hear mumbling— probably Feyre’s boyfriend waking up.

Nesta has to hang up before she says something she’ll be made to regret. Her fingers are bone-white around her phone, and she releases a restrained shriek before flinging her phone at the bed.

Still pissed but just a little mollified after the release of energy, Nesta takes a deep breath and heads downstairs to get breakfast.

Cassian is in the kitchen when she enters, sipping from a cup of coffee and watching another one brew in the coffee maker. His eyes are ringed with tired circles, proving he got about as much sleep as Nesta did the night before, but he seems content. She doesn’t miss his quick glance at her still-bare legs before his eyes flick up to her. “Good morning,” he offers with a quiet smile.

Nesta didn’t know Cassian was capable of such quietness— it’s a stark difference from how he is with Feyre and his friends, and maybe the nicest surprise she’s received since this shitty weekend began.

She cuts straight to it. “Feyre’s not coming,” she says, trying to gauge how he’ll react to this new inconvenience. “She told me to let you take me home.”

“I know,” is all Cassian says. His brow furrows when he sees her obvious disappointment. “She called me last night. Didn’t she tell you?”

Nesta’s hands curl under the long sleeves of Cassian’s sweatshirt, but she only shakes her head once. She’s distantly aware that she’s overreacting about a simple car ride, but nothing can take away her discomfort at asking favors from people she barely knows.

Not knowing how to continue the conversation, she says stiffly, “I want to wear my own clothes again.” Is that a good addition to the discussion? She genuinely can’t remember the last time she interacted with a man for non-work related purposes.

Cassian’s eyes light up and he sets down his coffee. “That reminds me, I put your clothes through the laundry this morning. They might still be warm from the dryer.”

Nesta wants to sag in relief at the first good news she’s gotten all morning. She follows Cassian’s directions to the laundry room and almost hugs her neatly folded clothes. While she changes into her clothes from the night before, she makes a list of today’s activities in her head:

1) Eat breakfast. Keep it quick and keep interactions with Cassian to a minimum, but don’t seem ungrateful.

2) Drive to her ancient rustbucket of a car. Make sure it’s okay after the hail and call the towing company.

3) Let Cassian drop her home.

4) Return to her room and not leave for a week.

Nesta sighs as her blue sweater settles around her frame. Only four tasks; it’s achievable enough.

Her first task is relatively easy. She wishes Cassian wouldn’t talk so much, because sometimes she doesn’t know what to say in return, but she also finds that she likes what she has to say. His opinion on the horror movie he watched last night doesn’t make her want to crawl out of the nearest window.

Cassian keeps breakfast short and gets them in the car by nine. It’s only after they’ve dialed a tow truck and Cassian kindly withholds judgment at Nesta’s faded blue lump of metal she calls a car that she gets the call.

It’s from her tenant, or rather, the nice elderly lady who lets Nesta live in her basement-turned-apartment.

“Lorene?” Nesta answers, confused.

“Oh, hun,” the woman answers, and from the sympathy in her voice, Nesta tenses up. “I headed downstairs this morning to check for mold and the rain...the whole basement’s flooded. There must have been a leak or something wrong with the entrance door, but I tried to grab as many of your things before I left.”

Nesta closes her eyes. Presses a forceful hand to her chest and tries to take calming breaths. “O-okay,” she says. “What does that mean, what do I do next?”

Cassian gives her a concerned look from where he leans against his truck. She ignores him.

“I’m getting the basement cleaned out and fixed as soon as I can, but the water damage looks pretty bad. The floors are probably gonna have to be replaced, and I don't know if insurance will cover this.”

She thinks of all her books and valuables in that apartment, taken out by the storm last night.

“You're going to have to find a new place to stay, hun. Most likely for a while.”

Nesta is on the verge of full-out panicking, but the last thing she needs is to have a breakdown in front of Feyre’s best friend. She clenches her fist so hard it hurts, and the bite of her nails takes away the sharp edge of her panic.

She breathes deep, but finally says, “I can do that.” She doesn't know if she can.

After a few more apologies from Lorene, Nesta finally hangs up, only to turn and brace her hands against the roof of her car.

“Everything alright?” Cassian asks slowly.

She needs a place to stay. Her mind works rapidly, going through the short, short list of people she might be able to ask for a bed to sleep on. Coming up empty, she moves on to the next option: motels.

Does she even have the money—?

“Nesta?” Cassian repeats. “What's going on?”

“I’m fine,” she says out loud, still not facing him. “I just need to break the bank a little and find a new place to stay, but it’ll be fine.”

“Find a new place to stay? What do you mean?” A light hand touches her elbow, and she whirls around in alarm. Cassian holds his hands up in placation. “Sorry, sorry,” he says.

Red-hot embarrassment creeps up Nesta’s cheeks. She’s losing it in front of this completely nice stranger—

She reins herself in, tries to remember things like common sense and social etiquette. “It’s okay,” she breathes out. “It’s really nothing. My apartment got flooded during the storm and I need to find a place to stay, and I’m upset, but I’ll get over it.” She nods resolutely, like the grown adult she is. Like she can afford to fix her car and pay for lodging at the same time.

Cassian considers her silently for a long moment, and Nesta thinks he must still be freaked out by her near-breakdown, when he finally says, “Well, you can always stay at my place.”

Her eyes might pop out of her head. “What? No. No.”

“Why not?” He turns hesitant. “Unless you have somewhere else to stay?”

Nesta’s silence is answer enough. She sees his gaze flip from questioning to determined and rushes to change his mind. “I won’t do that to you— I hate asking for favors and I hate making people go out of their way for me even more.” She sounds so forceful it comes off as harsh, which is all the better for convincing Cassian not to make her stay at his cabin.

“I have a feeling you hate a lot of things, Nesta.” He doesn’t back down. “You’re Feyre’s sister; the least I can offer you is free lodging.” After a moment, he adds, “Please.”

Nesta wants to laugh; he’s pleading with her to let her invade his home life. All because she’s Feyre’s sister. The reasoning leaves a bitter taste in her throat, but she doesn’t have the energy to argue with it. Not as the tow truck finally appears at the end of the road, driving up towards them. Cassian only looks at her. Decide now, he says silently.

Nesta exhales deeply through her nose. “Fine,” she grits. So much for getting through the day with her sanity unscathed.

***

Part Two

tagging: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla

[nothingtoprcve-blog]

@bendingtook // ✧ sc. ✧

“Alright, Aang, I’ve got a question.” With her clearest memories of life being the six years she spent on Hala with the Kree, and her recollection of her years on Earth simply showing up in FLASHES, Carol isn’t accustomed to the modern day world. At least they finally managed to upgrade their tech ( which still doesn’t quite reach what she’s seen, but it’s a definite improvement ), but there’s much she isn’t familiar with. She’s grown CLOSER to the kid over time, finding him overexerting himself trying to stop crime on the streets as the world grappled with the split down the middle, and now...she needs answers.

                         “What’s a mee-mee?” 

[soulwillower]

jealous • bill denbrough

(bill denbrough x reader smut)

requested: Rough Bill smut cause the reader got caught teasing him in front of the other losers  + Hii could you write a bill imagine where him and the reader are friends with benefits but its on the lowkey and he gets jealous when one of the guys flirts with the reader so like they both confess their feelings for each other?

i hope you guys enjoy!!

warning: swearing, rough sex, choking, oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, jealous bill, fluff at the end

[losers + reader are 18+19 in this!!!]

2.7k words

♡

you knew you were in trouble the moment you walked through the door. everyone was coming over to bill's for the night to hang out and catch some movies, but as you entered the denbrough house with eddie by your side you know it's going to be a long night. "oh, hey guys, sorry i d-didn't hear you come in." bill says from where he stands at the counter of the kitchen island in all of his shirtless and sweaty glory. "i just came back f-from a run." fuck.

"sorry, we can wait for everyone down here if you need to go shower." eddie says as he walks further into the kitchen. your mouth is dry and you try to snap out of it, your eyes glued to bill's bare, sculpted chest. fuck, you need him. bill inadvertently flexes his abs when he chuckles, making you groan under your breath as he makes eye contact with you. 

you and bill had started hooking up a few weeks ago and it was unspoken but agreed to be strictly sex - sex that always left you both satisfied with kiss-bruised lips and fleeting glances while the group hangs out. you know bill thinks you're hot, he'd said so enough times, but you find yourself wanting more, more, more. 

you wanted everything with him, you wanted him to put his arm around your shoulders, talk to you about everything, and kiss you only because he felt like it and not because he wanted to fuck you. 

"you g-gonna hide in the h-hallway all night, y/n?" he asks with a teasing smirk, pulling you from your thoughts. you hear some of the others open the door to the house in the entry down the hall as you walk fully into the kitchen, feeling flustered. "okay, i'll be b-back." bill says, walking out of the room and sending you a fleeting smirk on the way out.

the rest of the group slowly show up and you mess around in the kitchen while  you wait for bill to come back. you're sitting on the counter, a carton of cherries sitting next to you as stan teases you about not ever eaten one before. "how have you never had one, what about on sundays?" stan laughs, pushing from where he was sitting next to richie. "what's so special about sundays?" mike asks and you let out a laugh. "i think he means sundays, like ice cream." you say with a giggle. "and i don't know, i've always given 'em to someone else." you reason with a shrug.

"they're so good, just try one." stan says with a smile, walking towards you. you smile as he comes up between your legs, and you'd be lying if you didn't think it was kind of sexy. too bad it wasn't bill. stan picks up a cherry from the carton, holding it by the stem in between your bodies. you laugh, placing one hand on his shoulder and another grabbing the cherry from him. you lift it to his lips and he laughs, biting it off the stem and chewing it slowly. "see? was that so hard?" stan asks and you see bill walk in, looking to you. you look back to stanley with a grin, figuring some harmless flirting between friends could get your mind off of bill for a night.

you hum, "could've been harder." you say loudly, enough that bill can hear. stan chuckles, pulling another cherry up in between the two of you and bringing it towards your puckered lips. you open your lips, looking at stanley's small smirk. your tongue flicks out to wrap around the cherry and you pull it into your mouth slowly, biting down on the fruit.

the flavor bursts in your mouth and you moan, tilting your head back. stanley hums with a small chuckle, "you like that?" he asks, still standing between your legs, his hands coming up on either side of your hips. your conversation is innocent enough that the others don't pay too much attention, but you can hear bill cough and say, "alright! l-let's start." bill says abruptly, making you and stan stop chuckling and turn to look at him. he looks pissed as he tosses a deck of cards onto the table. "we're playing cards, billy?" you ask as stanley turns so his back is facing you.

"yes." he says shortly, looking away as you place your chin on stan's shoulder. the others all sit down at the table as stan leaves you, bringing the cherries with him. you hop off the counter and pull up a chair that is, coincidentally, right across from bill.

the game that you're playing goes pretty smoothly but richie won't stop winning, consequentially pissing everyone off. you were getting restless and you couldn't stop thinking about bill - he looked really fucking good with his towel-dried hair and his set, clenched jaw. you slowly started to drag your sock-clad toes over his shins, watching his face to gauge his reaction. he looks at you from behind his deck of cards but quickly looks away and you want to groan.

so, you start going higher, reaching the inside of his thighs and lightly rubbing. you know nobody can see what you're doing, so you straighten your leg to brush against his clothed crotch. he slams his cards down on the table suddenly, making ben jump from next to him. "you good, big bill?" richie asks. you have to conceal a grin. "this is b-boring." he says, staring at the table as you decide to get a glass from the cabinet, walking past bill and laying a casual hand on his shoulder. "let's watch something!" bev suggests and the others agree, walking into the living room. you drink your water with your eyes closed, glad to be alone for a few moments. you wanted bill so bad you were about to go straddle him in front of all of your friends.

"hey, y/n." stan mumbles as he walks in, tossing the cherries back into the fridge and grabbing a glass to fill up with his own water. you lean next to him as he fills it up and you start to lightly converse about the week you'd just had. he makes you laugh and you lay a hand on his arm, smiling at him as he leans his arm above your head.

"y/n. can i have a word?" bill's voice booms out of nowhere, barely stuttering. stan looks between the two of you, pulling away and giving a wink to you. you blush at his actions, not ever having seen stan be so flirty before. you turn to bill, giving him an innocent smile. "yes, billy?" you ask sweetly. he grabs your arm and roughly pulls you up his staircase and you stumble trying to keep up.

he's silent the whole way up to his room and you know he's riled up so you're just excited. "can i help you, bill?" you ask as you enter his room, but your breath is quickly gone from your chest as he shoves you up against his wall. you raise your eyebrows in shock, watching him with wide eyes.

"you've been a brat the wh-whole night, teasing me." he spits, staring at you with unforgiving eyes. you feel yourself growing wetter as he shoves his leg in between your own. "so what's your deal? you th-that desperate that y-you're gonna let stanley fuck you now, too?" he spits. you shake your head - looking at his handsome face and hoping he'd forgive you. you resist a moan. 

you stare at his lips and he smirks, pulling your head towards his to kiss you, his teeth clashing with yours and your noses bumping. he's kissing you like he's mad and you're getting increasingly hotter and hotter as he slides his tongue into your mouth. 

his hands roam you before unbuttoning your sweater and shoving it off, throwing it to the floor. "such a slut for me." he mutters as he pulls away, unclipping your bra and tossing it behind him, his thumbs flicking your nipples. "fucking brat, letting stan flirt with you all night." he says again, his fingers snaking to rub your clothed core. 

you moan in need, your hands pulling at his shirt. he pulls back and shucks off his shirt, pointing to his bed. he was very jealous, and it was hot.

you obey silently and he falls on top of you, catching himself on his forearms, kissing you intensely. your stomach burns under his touch and you moan his name. he laughs darkly at your neediness but rubs his thumb over your clothed clit.

“there cant be any marks.” you whisper dejectedly as he mouths down the column of your throat. "i'll do what i fucking want, y/n/n." he says, biting down on your neck. your eyes widen in pleasure and you whimper, knowing you're going to have a shit ton of hickeys in the morning. something about bill wanting to mark you is intoxicating and very very hot.

he pulls down your pants and underwear at the same time and you sigh as he leans down, licking a bold stripe up your pussy. you gasp and he slips two fingers immediately into you, pumping slowly as he sucks on your clit. he pumps faster, watching you with angry eyes as you unravel under him. he pulls his mouth away, leading up to kiss your lips as he pumps his fingers into you roughly. you're letting out ragged moans, your hands clutching his chest before raking down his back. "you like that?" he mutters, his thumb rubbing harsh circles on your clit.

he's relentless as he works you, kissing you and swallowing your moans as he curls his fingers into you. "b-bill, i'm close-" you whimper, feeling embarrassed that it’s barely been five minutes and you’re already about to cum. he chuckles, pulling his hands away at that with a seductive smirk. 

he tuts at you, grabbing your jaw and bringing your face up close to his. you feel his breath on your face as he quietly mutters, "you're not cumming until i let you." his jaw is clenching and you think that might just be the sexiest thing he's ever said. your eyes roll backwards with a loud moan of desperation. "d-do you want my c-cock, baby?" he asks, palming himself as he takes off his pants. you bite your lip, knowing better than to say anything other than, "yes."

he leans over you and you can feel him press against your stomach. "then you’re g-gonna beg for it." he says lowly, looking at you with a dark look. he looks so sexy that you whimper, "please, bill, please fuck me."

he laughs, shaking his head, "so needy. can't even get through one night without begging for my cock." he mutters, lining up with you and pushing into you all at once. you let out a loud moan and his hand comes up to cover your mouth. he doesn't give you time to adjust as he starts pumping in and out of you at a vigorous pace, biting down on your collarbone. you moan under his hand, eyes shutting in pleasure. holy shit. he moves his hand from your mouth after a few minutes, his hips snapping into yours, slipping his hand around your neck, choking you slightly. you let out whimpers at the feeling of pleasure as he fills you deeply.

"you’re mine. say it." he says lowly, his hand around your neck squeezing gently. you know he’s probably thinking about you and stan in the kitchen earlier, but as he's slamming into you words fail. he smacks your ass when you don't respond, his hand then falling on your cheek to make you look at him. "fucking say it, y/n." he says again and you moan, whimpering "i'm yours, bill!" dejectedly. "please, can i cum?" you ask through gasps as he fucks you into his headboards. he smacks your ass again, the feeling of pleasure causing you to yelp and bite your lip as you look back at him. he hums as he slams into you, "not yet."

you moan, tears springing on your eyes and he coos tauntingly, his thumbs wiping your cheeks before kissing you roughly. he laughs as he thrusts into you a few more times before pulling out and flipping you onto your stomach, his arm coming to angle your hips upwards. "good girl." he coos, pulling your arms back and holding them against your back with one large hand. you're spread for him, naked and vulnerable with your head on the pillow and your arms pinned to your back.

he slips back into you, the new position making you bite his pillow in order to not scream. he's filling you perfectly, muttering nothings into your ear as his chest comes down against your back, his lips pressing against the shell of your ear. you feel the cold metal of the chain he always wears around his neck hit the back of your neck and you can’t help  but whimper at how hot he is.  he chuckles behind you, landing a hard smack on your ass before kneading your cheeks with his large hands. you're muttering his name and your legs are shaking as he finally rubs against your clit with his fingers and mutters, "cum."

and you do, your stomach coiling deliciously as you go limp on his mattress, gasping and whimpering as you clench around his cock. bill moans, stilling before pulling out, finishing on your back. 

you whimper, your body shaking as you feel the mattress dip and after a few moments, a warm rag wiping at your back and then between your legs. his hand squeezes your ass lightly, almost lovingly before laying next to you.

your eyes are closed, completely fucked out as bill reaches out to stroke your sides, "h-hey."you turn to him at his words, a tired smile on your lips. he leans forward, as if debating something, and then he presses a kiss to your lips. 

you smile in surprise as he pulls away- you’ve never kissed after hooking up before. “oh, that was new.” you say, looking into his eyes. he turns slightly red. “just felt like it.” he mutters sheepishly. 

your stomach tingles with butterflies, he kissed you because he just felt like it.

"so, um. what pissed you off, huh?" you ask as you sit up. bill gapes at you, his face still angelic in his post-orgasm bliss. he's got a hint of a smile on his face as he looks at you.

"um, you've been giving stan fuck me eyes the whole n-night." he mumbles, making you turn to look at him as you pull your bra and top back on. 

"well... i mean, why do you care anyways?" you ask, giving him an inquisitive look, standing on shaky legs. holy shit, he fucked you well, you were going to be sore for a while. 

he groans, rubbing his face with his hands, his stomach and chest muscles flexing as he sits up. "i don't- i-i mean, y-i like what we h-have..." he trails off. you blink, a part of your stomach deflating. you're now used to how quickly his demeanor can change after sex, but hearing him admit that he doesn't want you as anything more than a fuck buddy was going to hurt.

"yeah, me too." you lie. you try to turn away he shakes his head, grabbing your hand, "i like this. but... b-but think th-that i want more." he says softly, looking up at you from where he sits on his bed. 

"wait bill, do you mean that?" you whisper, feeling butterflies. he nods, one hand coming to grip your shaky, tired thigh. "yeah, of course." he whispers. you grin, "i want more too. i really like you." you say, leaning down and pulling bill by his jaw to kiss his plump lips. 

he pulls you back onto the bed, kissing you deeply and brushing your hair behind your ear. "you're so c-cute, y/n. please be mine." he mumbles, kissing your hairline softly. you blush at his words, "of course." you say, tilting your head to kiss him again. he smiles into the kiss and he sighs, "i think we should go back down with the others." you nod reluctantly, and he pouts but lifts you up, pulling your pants on for you. "can i hold your hand, at least?" he asks childishly as you walk down the hall. "of course you can." you say, smiling at him as he smiles back, his hand slipping into yours. 

he was finally all yours.

[imagining-supernatural]

The Fifth Check-In

Part 23 of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary:  You have a panic attack on the day you get another round of test results back

Word Count: 1,744

Warnings: The Magicians season 5 spoilers right off the bat. Skip the first few paragraphs if you don’t wanna be spoiled!!

“Look, all I’m saying is that Quentin should have lived and that was a shitty ending.” After stating your opinion, you sat back in the chair and waited for Brenda to respond.

She finished writing something in a chart and nodded over at you. “But the whole season was kind of culminating to that ending, wasn’t it? Quentin had Eliot right there the whole time, but it wasn’t Eliot. They were so close, but couldn’t be together. Then, when the Monster is finally gone, they still can’t be together.”

“Okay, but sacrificing himself like that? God, Q’s been suicidal his whole life and having him basically commit suicide, but wrapping it up with a nice bow of martyrdom is probably the worst way they could have handled it. This is fucking fantasy. You think the writers could have found a better way to keep the angst and tension of keeping Eliot and Quentin apart rather than, you know, killing the character so many people who struggle with depression can identify with like that. Make one of them stuck in another world. Have one be sent back in time or something.”

Brenda regarded you with narrow eyes, taking in your words.

Conversations like this were the reason she was your favorite nurse in the hospital. Both of you shared interest in so many TV shows that it was an instant connection and she would constantly come fill out charts in your room for the company.

“I hadn’t thought about it like that.”

“Mm, well, I have all the time in the world lately to mindlessly scroll through posts online. I never thought I’d miss being able to go out to, like, bars and shit.”

“Well, once you recover from your surgery in January, you’ll be able to do that again.”

You nodded and absently picked at the hem of your shirt. Mid-January was one month away. Yesterday and this morning you’d been run through the gambit of tests and you’d be meeting with Dr. Chowdhury later today for the results. In the three weeks since Thanksgiving, you’d gotten so weak you could barely walk up a flight of stairs without having to pause in the middle to catch your breath. You hoped to God that meant the treatment was working.

If this treatment wasn’t working, there likely wouldn’t be any reason for you to stay in the clinical trial.

Would there be any reason to stay in New York if that happened? When you’d made the deal with Sebastian to stay married and get treatment, you’d agreed that once the treatment was over, you’d get a divorce. But things had changed, hadn’t they?

Brenda got a page and left the room in a hurry, giving your thoughts more space to multiply.

Had things changed enough?

And if you were kicked out of the clinical trial, was it fair to Sebastian for you to stay? You’d known each other almost exactly three months. That wasn’t enough time to expect someone to endure watching your cancer kill you in the last few weeks of your life.

Of course, you hadn’t even known him a full twenty-four hours before he was offering to fly you to New York, offering his home to you, and offering his medical insurance.

The cry of a child down the hallway drew you from your thoughts enough for you to recognize the beginning of a dark spiral. Without thinking too much of it, you pulled your phone out to call Sebastian. On the first ring, you realized he was probably shooting a scene and wouldn’t be able to answer. On the second ring, you decided to just leave a short voicemail. Nothing too worrying.

And on the third ring, he answered. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Oh, hi. I wasn’t expecting you to answer.”

“You called at a good time. Just finished shooting for the day.”

His voice alone was enough to help lessen the tension that had gathered in your shoulders and you found yourself relaxing further back into the recliner. “Wow, short day. What’re you going to do with all of this free time?”

“Thought I’d grab some food and relax until you called. Did you already meet with Dr. Chowdhury?”

“Not yet.” You shook your head, even though he wouldn’t be able to see you. “I’ve still got another hour and a half ‘til the appointment.”

“You nervous?”

You let out a snort of laughter. “A bit, yeah. And by a bit, I mean I’m overthinking everything way too much right now.”

“Talk to me, baby. What’s on your mind?”

“Besides the ever-present worry that the tests come back bad? I don’t know…”

“Y/N…” he prompted.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes. As if that would make your thoughts easier to bear. “If this treatment isn’t working, what happens then? I-I-I… God, I know I sound like a broken record, but if the results aren’t good, I’m out of options and I can’t help but worry. I mean, what? I go back to Utah and try to make myself accept that I’m going to die? It took me a while to wrap my head around that earlier this year. I don’t know if I can do it as… as peacefully as before. Peacefully isn’t the right word, but I can’t think of it right now. I just… Seb I need the results to be good today. I need good news. I fuckin’ need it.”

“Hey, sweetheart, there’s no—”

“At the very least I need to stick around long enough to see the new season of The Magicians. I’ve put in far too much time looking up fan theories online to die before it airs.” You were rambling. You knew it. But you couldn’t stop. In fact, you just kept talking faster and faster, tripping over your words. “And have I ever told you about when I watched the finale of the last season? I was crying so much that when I left my room to get ice cream, Jasmin told me she could hear me crying all the way from her room. Like, fuck, that can’t be the last scene I see of The Magicians. That would be far too cruel of a joke for the Universe to play on me.”

“Y/N, breathe.” You did as he said. He waited for you to take a few more breaths before speaking again. “Baby, where’s all this coming from? You were fine this weekend before I left, weren’t you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I was. But now it’s here and this is the last round of these tests like this. The next time I have tests run, it’ll be to see if I’m ready for surgery. Not to see if the treatment is working. These are the last progress tests. And, historically, I haven’t had much luck with those. The first round of tests with Helen showed that my cancer was more aggressive than my doctor back in Salt Lake thought. Then there were the tests before you left for that week of interviews when we found out it was even more aggressive than we thought because it hadn’t shrunk any. Then—”

“Hey, baby, baby.” Sebastian cut off your recap of bad luck. “I know. I know there’s only really been one round of tests that didn’t give you bad results. Trust me, I know how scary this is. I’m fuckin’ terrified too.”

In a soft, meek voice you asked, “You are?”

“I am. I don’t want to lose you, and there’s nothing I can do at all to change the outcome of any of this. God, I wish I was with you right now.”

I don’t want to lose you.

That was the first time he’d said anything about seeing a future with you, besides a few offhanded comments about next year. Sure, it was a loose interpretation, and it was something people said at times like these, but it still made your heart calm down a bit.

“I wish you were here too,” you admitted quietly. Something about hearing him admit that he was scared calmed your nerves. “Can… can I call you and put you on speaker when I meet with Dr. Chowdhury? I know it won’t be the same as you holding my hand but…”

“Yes, please. I was about to ask that, actually.”

Relief flowed through your body. “Thank you, honey. I didn’t want to go through alone. I’m glad you had a short day today.”

“Mmhmm.” He agreed.

“Anyway, I should probably let you go for now. Go grab some food and head back to your room.”

“You sure? I can stay on with you. I can multitask.”

A smile forced itself onto your face at his offer. “I know. And I appreciate the offer, but I’m coming down from that little panic attack and I think I’m going to fall asleep. So you get your food and I’m going to take a nap while this machine keeps pumping toxic chemicals into my body. I’ll talk to you in an hour and a half.”

Your leg was bouncing faster than your heart was beating. Or was it the other way around?

Either way, you were nervous as hell.

“So, to be on track the tumor has to have shrunk at least twenty percent, right?” You asked Dr. Chowdhury as he looked through your file. “That’s what you said when we changed the treatment. Twenty percent by now, and another fifteen percent before surgery?”

He nodded. “That is correct. Dr. Abara agreed that if your tumor shrinks at least thirty-five percent since your previous scans, your chances at having a successful surgery are much higher than if it does not shrink that much. Considering how you have reacted to the treatment thus far, twenty percent is a fair amount.”

You blew out a long breath and heard Sebastian shifting on the other end of the phone.

“So?” you asked Dr. Chowdhury, gripping your phone so tightly you were scared it might break. “Where am I at?”

“Your scans show that the tumor is twenty-five percent smaller than it was at Thanksgiving.”

He was smiling at you and Sebastian was saying something, but your brain couldn’t process the news that quickly.

Twenty-five percent? More than anticipated? Good news?

“That’s… that’s good news, right?”

A short bark of relieved laughter came through the phone speaker from Sebastian as Dr. Chowdhury nodded. “Very good news.”

“Holy shit.”

You could hardly believe it.

Good News!!! And I would apologize for ranting about The Magicians, but I had EMOTIONS that needed a VOICE and this was the time and place, apparently. Anyway, I was rereading this and saw the line about being able to go to bars and shit in January and just laughed a bit. Ah, the world before COVID. I miss those times. So, do you guys think the treatment is going to continue to work? You think the surgery will happen? And if it does... what happens after Are they gonna stay married? 

CHAPTER 24: THE AIRPORT

[bird-in-a-cage]

18 or 45! 💖

Thank you for the prompt! Sorry it took me a while to get back to you but I’m sure this will more than make up for it. Also two in one day? Look at me go!

My ask box is always open if anyone wants to drop a prompt from the list or just spout an idea off the dome!

I’ll get around to doing both. But here’s one just for now.

#18: “This is… exactly what it looks like”

Sailor Boy

Billy knew Steve’s routine as if it were his own, written all over his arm in permanent ink. He knew Monday was inventory day, Tuesday was delivery day. Wednesday and Thursday were Steve’s days off. Friday and Saturday Scoops Ahoy stayed open late, to coincide with the mall’s longer opening hours due to the movie theatre on the top floor, owners of the nautical based ice cream franchise clearly hoping that maybe movie goers would want to sneak in a cone or a tub mid flick.

Friday was when Billy finished early. His last swim class was at three. He could easily be done by five, shower just enough of the chlorine smell off his skin, change and be parked at the mall by six. He had taken the same route so many times now he could do it with his eyes closed, knew every stop sign, the rhythm of the traffic lights. How the cops liked to hide behind that low billboard on Maple to catch potential speeders heading out of town.

Even if he’d spent all of Thursday with Steve, rolling around his parents fucking mansion like the both owned the place, Friday was Billy’s favourite day. Friday he got to see his little sailor boy at work. Steve hated his uniform, he wasn’t shy about ever saying so. Hated the dumb hat, hated the dumb shirt that got itchy after two days of wear if it didn’t get washed in between, hated the socks he had to wear up to just below his knees that would constantly fall down, hated the fact his whole uniform felt wipe clean even though it wasn’t in the slightest. The one thing Steve hated and complained about most though, were the shorts. They were long and baggy and unshapely.

“It’s like wearing a sown up trash bag man, honestly!”

Billy loved those shorts. He loved the deep but not navy blue of their colour, he loved the white stripe that ran along the bottom of each cuff, he loved the deep pockets than ran much further down Steve’s thighs than they had any right too, he wasn’t carrying all that much around with him day to day, but most of all Billy loved the elasticated waistband. Always hidden almost halfway up Steve’s stomach the shorts were so big on his skinny frame.

Well, not skinny. Just skinnier than Billy. Steve still had plenty of muscle definition even if he was eating spoons of ice cream all day now, stealing maraschino cherries straight from the jar and rolling them with their juice in little cups of chocolate sprinkles, swearing blind he’d invented the greatest semi-healthy snack of all time just because at one point it had been a fruit.

Billy also knew that 6:15 was when Steve’s little work friend, that smart mouthed girl with too much eyeliner, went on her final break even though the store shut at eight. He knew to time it so good that sometimes he’d stroll in and Steve would still be talking like it was still her.

This day wasn’t one of those days. He strolled through the big open doors, that stupidly cheery music playing on a constant loop that must have driven Steve completely mad sometimes, to find him scooping up ice cream to display on their tubs. The place was dead. It always was. No one ever left the movie theatre mid picture to come down two floors just for ice cream, when the concessions were right outside. He kept scooping and piling even though Billy knew he had seen him. The corners of his lips twitched just a little then damped back down. Hiding a grin. Billy could play this game. He leant over the counter, pressing his chest up to the glass, knowing it would smudge just a little. No longer perfectly clear. Streaked with the last stubborn remnants of suntan lotion a crappy public shower couldn’t remove. Steve raised his head after a few long minutes into their stalemate and was still trying not to smile.

“Sir,” Oh he had on his customer service voice too, Billy loved that, it made the game more fun and he couldn’t hide the grin it caused to grow on his face. “Can I help you with anything?”

“That depends,” he pushed himself off the counter and slowly started spinning around the container of rainbow sprinkles, unscrewing the cap. “I’m looking for something specific.” He sucked on the tip of his finger and rolled it in the first layer of sprinkles until his fingertip was completely coated. Billy knew Steve hated when he did that. Both hated and loved it. Hated it because it was kind of disgusting, but loved it, cause, well, Steve was kind of disgusting. Under all the rich daddy’s boy front he was willing to try some kinky shit and Billy just drank up every last drop he could squeeze out. Billy wiggled his sprinkle coated finger around, watching Steve’s eyes follow it around like fish to bait, growing darker by the second.

“Well, I think I can be of some assistance….” he spoke calmly, and walked around more to the side of the counter. Billy matched his steps. He wasn’t quite over the invisible ‘employees only’ line just yet.  They locked eyes and Steve’s were nearly black with desire. He took Billy’s hand in his cold ones, they had just been in a freezer after all, and he pulled gently. He popped Billy’s sprinkle covered finger into his mouth and let his eyes get hooded, in the way he knew drove Billy crazy, especially when that perfect wide tongue started cleaning up the sugar speckled digit and with his pretty boy pout sucking further down to the second knuckle, then the third with clear intent, firm muscle sweeping back and forth and around Billy’s rougher skin, rendering his brain fucking mush every time.

Steve let the finger go with a wet, but soft, pop, letting his eyes open again. Billy glanced a look down and there was a definite tent in those hated shorts. They both crashed together at the same time, kissing feverishly as Billy pushed and Steve pulled, both of them stumbling through the swinging door and up against the wall next to the always empty notice board. Billy pinned Steve up to it, knocking the cap off his head in the process as they kissed deeper, licking into each other’s mouths and sharing the taste of chemically coloured sugar. Steve’s needy hands found Billy’s hips easily and pulled, hard, letting out the sweetest little desperate moan as Billy’s thicker thigh found its way between his own. Billy let Steve’s lips go, kissing over his jaw heavily, and moved his leg higher, tighter, to ring out more delicious sounds. 

His little sailor was always so cute trying to be quiet, especially at work, but Billy knew him inside out. Had made it his job to know every button Steve Harrington had, how and when to push them, which threads to pull at to watch him completely unravel. One of the first things they ever did, out in the quarry in the back of Billy’s camaro, Steve had humped his thigh like a bitch in heat. Steve loved his thighs. He was never shy in showing so. They were one of the big flashing buttons to push, to the point of Steve couldn’t come to the pool if Billy was on shift or risk popping a semi then and there just seeing a flash of red covering not very much leg.

Like this though, pressed up against the wall, Billy had all the control. Steve was pliant, warming his cold hands on Billy’s sun soaked stomach under his shirt, going over his abs with needy thumbs. Billy worked his thigh harder. Steve groaned biting his lip so not to let it all come streaming out loud and hot. He started grinding his hips at long last, all the layers of fabric between skin doing nothing but adding deliciously painful friction, as Billy nibbled his earlobe. 

Yeah, Harrington had a lot of buttons. And god if they weren’t fun to press.

Deep down Billy wanted to ruin Steve for good. Even if what they had, whatever it was, wasn’t a long term plan and just a way to blow off steam for the long hot summer months, Billy was determined that no one would ever rock his little sailor’s boat like he could. No one would ever make Harrington come like he could, no one would ever make him cry out in the middle of the night with his peachy ass burning with hand marks like he could, no one would make him choke on a cock behind the arcade in broad daylight where they could be seen at any moment and still have those swollen come shiny lips beg for more like an angel’s prayer like he could.

Whether he knew it or not, Steve was going to be ruined for the rest of his days.

Billy growled next to his ear possessively. His sailor melted and ground his hips harder, starting to get desperate so soon. God if that didn’t make Billy’s dick kick something horrific in his jeans.

“Needy tonight huh baby?” Billy grunted roughly in his deepest voice, the one he knew that if Harrington had a pussy, it would make him gush buckets and ruin those shorts. “Did I not do a good job filling you up yesterday?” Billy pulled Steve’s hips off the wall to get his hands on that perfect peach, where he knew it must have been difficult to sit down all day, what with how red and sore it looked the night previous. He felt Steve’s hips stutter for just a moment, hissing around a moan as his body wasn’t sure if it was pleasure or pain or both it wanted to express. Billy wanted to laugh. He did keep singing harder god please harder so had no one but himself to blame for the mess he was in.

“Too good,” Steve sighed out as Billy worked his hands down the back of that elasticated waist, past his own briefs Steve had stolen that morning, grabbing handfuls of tenderized meat and squeezing rough. The noise Steve made was exquisite, his hips starting to rock again faster and stronger, pushing forward and pushing back in equal measure with no set rhythm. Billy loved when he was like this, his little plaything, teetering on the edge of no return.

“Let me see baby,” he muttered, dripping with heat and desire. “Don’t wanna get your uniform all messy. Captain will be mad.”

Steve scrambled to push his shorts and briefs down just enough for the thick, gleaming head to pop free but the rest still be trapped and untouched, pushing his shirt up over his stomach, fingers trembling and lips quivering around a sound that couldn’t be kept quiet as Billy’s sucked on but now dry digit found his sailor’s well used hole. His cock throbbed visibly between them, pushing out more shiny clear liquid that threatened to stain Billy’s pale denim jeans. God it made Billy’s mouth water. And if he wasn’t rock hard before he definitely was now.

But later. That was for later. They were running out of time.

Billy worked his thigh harder still, trying to keep up with Steve’s erratic hips which was no easy job, drinking down his noises of pure ecstasy, until his whole body stuttered and tensed and he came with a cry that couldn’t be contained, creamy white come splashing up his torso and staining his already pale skin. Billy smirked like the devil, kissing Steve deeply as he tried to pant coming down, taking his hands out of his boy’s shorts, only just managing to tuck him away and let his shirt fall over the mess when the door swung open and there was eyeliner girl, right on time. As always.

Steve had the dignity and had regained just enough mental function to look embarrassed, even if he was still panting like a mutt trying to speak with Billy all up in his space, greedy for it all. No one laid eyes on his sailor boy.

“It’s… fuck… I’m sorry Rob…” 

She stared back blankly at the two of them, setting a Burger King milkshake, if Billy had to hazard a guess it would be strawberry flavoured, on the counter they had back here, simply saying “You’re scraping the freezer tonight,” before going back through the door from where she’d came.

Billy didn’t let Steve stand back up straight away, even as he knew the messy spatter of come was starting to dry and cause the uniform to stick to his slender body. He cupped Steve’s cheek and kissed him, rough but sweet. As sweet as Billy did really. Steve melted for it each time. Another button. Another step of ruining.

“I’ll be waiting,” he said, getting Steve solid on his feet before letting go and walking away like he wasn’t painfully hard. The girl scowled at him blankly out front, especially when he took a cherry from the jar and grinned with it between his teeth while holding the stem, walking backwards out of the store and giving her a two finger salute from his forehead.

“Captain...”

Billy walked with purpose back to his car out front, having parked in his usual spot near the back where it wasn’t under one of the tall lights that illuminated most of the area, getting straight in to sit on his backseat and wait. He checked the time on his watch and lit up a well needed cigarette.

He had 45 minutes to wait for his little sailor to pull into harbour. 

[hawks-is-kinda-chicken-little]

Bond Like No Other

Izuku Midoriya X Reader

Key [just in case someone needs it i'll put it up]

(y/n)= Your name

(h/n)= Hero name

(q/n)= Quirk name

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next symbol of peace, that's what he is. Deku, the successor of All Might. Many know his story, but no one knows it better than his fiance. (Y/n) had been there for him all through UA, and she would continue to be there for the rest of their lives. That, she promised Izuku the night he proposed to her.  

Everyone knows that those two are inseparable, the ultimate power couple. So when the world found out they were finally engaged, people went wild. They have a bond that nothing can break and it shows. 

It had been a gruesome battle, quirks activating left and right. A robbery turned into a battle zone. The villains were on all levels of the 30 story building. At least a hundred of them, all prepared to kill. They refused to talk reason with the hero’s, threatening to take the whole building down with everyone in it. They were demanding a huge sum of money, but this wasn’t just about money. This was about striking fear and doubt into the hearts of civilians and heroes alike. It was not just some random urge that the villains had, no it was too well thought out.It had to have taken time to craft such a scheme. This wasn’t a situation that heroes could take head on. The hero’s had to play their cards just right, or else innocent people would get hurt or even killed in the crossfire. 

(H/n) and Deku were among those courageous heroes that day. At first, things seemed to be calming down, until an explosion bursted through one of the middle stories of the building. Effectively proving that the villains were in no way bluffing, they were either going to get what they asked for or kill themselves and everyone around them. Everything was beginning to crumble down so fast. Yet, the villains would not relent, they refused to give up their hostages even if they themselves got hurt in the process. They attacked anyone who dared oppose them. 

People were getting desperate, time was running out. The heroes were stuck with two choices. Try to keep negotiating and let the building keep crumbling, causing rumbling to crush the civilians inside. Or rush into the building and have the villains possibly harm the civilians. Heroes were talking amongst themselves, trying to formulate some sort of plan, while some negotiators were on speaker phones trying to reason with the intruders inside. The longer the heroes wait the more it becomes a do or die kind of situation. 

It was time to act, no solid plan could be formed without some sort of negative factor playing into it. But the pros of rushing in outweighed the cons at that moment. Something had to be done, so when one hero went in, the rest followed suit.

Heroes tried to surround every corner, hoping to outnumber the villains. But, for every hero, there was a villain, just as ready to give up their own life for their own twisted cause. Neither side was backing down, as the civilians were being rushed out. The media filmed the building crumbling faster with every blow dealt from the inside. People were lucky to come out unscathed, most suffered some kind of injury, ranging from minor cuts, to burns and lacerations, to even life threatening gashes. 

Deku and (h/n) had split up, with Deku taking the higher grounds and the (h/n) taking the lower. Though they were separated, they kept in touch through their earpieces. However, with all that was going on around them, not much else could be heard but pained screams, grunts, and blows coming from each side of the com. Even if they could hear each other, they had to pay attention to the opposer in front of them. Both of them faced equally terrifying opponents, with quirks abnormal to normal villains. 

By this time, only a couple of civilians were still being rescued and carried off. So far, no casualties for either civilian or hero. The villains were dropping in numbers as backup arrived. Soon the building started giving way as support beams shattered under all the pressure. Villains were being hauled off from the top floors where Deku was since they were knocked out cold. 

Just as he landed on the ground carrying four unconscious villains, a ear blasting boom rang from the middle section of the building. Car sized chunks of cement and rumble flew from the foundation of the building. People started fleeing to avoid being splattered onto the ground beneath their feet. Surrounding buildings started to be evacuated as rubble crashed into the sidewalls of them.

Speaking into his earpiece, Deku tried to get a hold of (h/n). All he received was static and pieces of words lost in the chaos around them. Shoto, a beloved friend and fellow hero, noticed Deku’s distress. (Y/n) was Shoto’s cousin, so of course he had his own share of worries. 

“Anything?” Shoto yelled loudly, hoping to be heard over the surrounding noise.

“Static and broken words, but nothing that can be made out,” Deku yelled back. 

They shared a look, both knowing the others plan. Head in and search, before it all hit the ground. 

The heroes sprinted to the nearest entrance on the lower level, which happened to be a massive hole in the side of the building. Ashy smoke clouded the air making it hard to see far ahead. Dust and Debris suffocated the air, burning both of their lungs as it made it hard for them to breath. The foundations of the building moaned under the stress, causing them to rumbling and shift. One of the beams from where they entered finally gave way, causing them to jump forward, barely missing the beam as it collided with the ground with a thud. Metal rods from different levels splintered the ground through the ceiling. Broken furniture scattered the cracked tile floors. Glass shards crunched under their footsteps. Shoto held out a flame from the palm of his left hand, giving them somewhat of a better view. There was not a body in sight. They started calling (y/n) by both her real name and her hero name, hoping that one would get a response. A couple minutes, and nothing became of their attempts, so they headed to the second level.

But they kept walking. However, they froze after one of their steps sent a sharp snap echoing throughout the walls. Then they heard a crash from one of the levels above them. It sounded as if hits were being thrown back and forth, as if a fight was still in progress. A sudden crack the ceiling above bursts open as something flies through, even managing to break through the ground on which they stood. It plummeted full force through the ground into the first floor causing dust and debris to fly up in its wake. A groggy chuckle rang out in the aftermath. Both Deku and Shoto watched as a giant muscular figure jumped down to the bottom through the forced whole, taking no notice of the two heroes on the way down. Using the foggy air as cover, they followed the person while making sure to stay out of sight. 

It was difficult to see what the man was doing, as he grabbed the fallen object from its indented spot on the ground. But, upon further inspection, Deku could start to see an outline of a figure, the head hung to the side as the man pulled them up by the neck. The dust started settling again and all Deku could see was red. In the man's grasp was his love, the unconscious injured body of (h/n). His baby. Hurt. 

Deku’s body was moving before his mind could even fully comprehend the full severity of the situation. Shoto hadn’t even moved before Deku was on the man, ripping (h/n) from his ugly paws, cradling her to his chest, before full on Detroit smashing him through the ground.

The force of the blow took out all support beams and pillars, as the building was now crumbling like an avalanche with them still inside and all exits blocked off.

Shoto quickly tried making beams out of ice, hoping to prevent their demise, but sharp metal rods penetrated any barrier he created.

“I can try to smash through the rumble, but you need to take her,” Deku shouted, handing the slowly stirring (h/n) over to his friend. 

 After finding the best place to break through, Deku readied himself, having them all thrown back. The building to their side had crashed to the ground, effectively cutting them off. And to make matters worse, the villain was arising from the whole he was punched into. Shoto set a wall of ice between them. But, it did not last long as it was quickly shattered by rubble. At this rate, if they did not find a way out soon, they would all be crushed with the building. Looking around, Shoto spotted a small hole. 

“There seems to be a small opening behind the villain, probably where a window used to be. It would be a tight squeeze, but we can make it,” Shoto yelled over the surrounding chaos.

Deku nodded leading the way. They were getting out of there no matter what. He was going to make sure of that. They just had to make it past to the small gap in the wall. The criminal didn’t seem to want to let them go easily though. As the heroes made their way over, the villain charged, grabbing an abandoned rifle lying on the ground beside him and firing wildly in their direction. While his aim was terrible, the bullets were flying by way to close for comfort, especially as the villain got closer to them. Deku veered off towards their attacker, shouting at Shoto to get (h/n) out before it collapsed. 

Shoto wanted to argue, and he would have, but he knew (h/n) had to get medical help immediately. So he sucked up his pride and dashed to the openeding, using his ice to block incoming objects. All while, hoping Deku was close behind and unharmed as shots still rang out in the air. 

After exiting the building, he ran even faster as the building finally came toppling over. Though Shoto had gotten them both away from it, the forcefully wave of turbulent debris ridden wind swept his feet from under him, hitting him like a tsunami. Ripping (h/n) from his arms as they both hit the skin shredding asphalt. Shoto’s vision was blurring, the world was spinning, he could see his cousin in front of him laying imobile on her side scrapes and burn running bleeding through the tears in her costume. He tried to push himself up by his elbows, but he collapsed, starting to blackout. However, he saw shaky figures running towards them right before everything went black.

Deku could see Shoto run to the exit with (h/n) through his peripheral vision. All he needed to do was keep this guy occupied until they were a safe distance away. Shots were still piercing the air, Deku swerved from place to place using the scattered rubble as cover. It only lasted another minute or so as the magazine emptied, causing the villain to throw the useless weapon to the side. Ceasing his chance Deku leapt towards the villain, fist propelling forward as he activated his quirk. The criminal was once again forced six feet under. 

The towering was caving, but if Deku could climb his way up the broken rods, he might be able to smash his way through the other side of the building. Feather light feet swiftly bound from one rod to the next, careful not to land on anything to wobbly. He was close, so close to freedom. One last punch was all it took to clear a hole wide enough for him to slip through. As he jumped out, the whole thing came crashing down. The forceful wind shoved him away from the now crumbled building, causing him to tumble onto the sidewalk. For a second Deku was not even sure he had made it out, the air was dark with debris, rendering him blind to his surroundings. All that could be heard was the creaking of shifting metal and rubble trying to settle into a state of stability on the ground. But, the only thing Deku could hear was eerie silence. Nothing ached though, every muscle felt numb and weightless. Blood was pooling around his body, but he couldn't see where it was coming from. 

The air was starting to settle, slowly clearing the view around him. Deku laid his head to the right, squinting his eyes when he saw a familiar looking blue costume along with red and white hair laying on the asphalt. Shoto. And a couple feet in front of Shoto was (y/n). Laying on her side facing Deku, he couldn’t make out their conditions, but if they were anything like him, they weren’t doing too great. He should go check on them, but his body refused to move. All Deku could do was extend his arm towards them as his vision faded to nothing. 

All three of them were spotted on the ground and immediately transported to the nearest hospital. Shoto woke up soon after being emitted, only suffering minor bruises and a mild concussion from hitting the asphalt. Izuku and (y/n), while not in critical condition, were not as lucky. Both having broken bones and stitch worthy gashes drained a good amount of their blood. (Y/n) was the next to slowly rise from her sleeping state. Bright lights prodded at sensitive eyes as the lids creaked open. No matter how much she blinked, the beaming lights seemed to be too much for her at the moment. Holding a hand up to block out the light, she scanned around the room looking around for a clue as to where she was. 

Shoto walked into the room, wearing hospital clothes with bandages scattered across his body. Wobbling over to the chair beside her bed, Shoto sunk into the cushions of the chair leaning so that his arms were hanging over the edge of the rails of her bed. 

“How do you feel,” Her cousin asked softly.

“Definitely been better,” Her voice was hoarse and scratchy. 

Shoto reached over to the side table grabbing the water bottle and handing it to her. Silently thanking him, she sipped at it before setting it beside her. 

“What happened?” She asked.

Hesitance was present all over his face, making worry sprout through her heart. With a heavy sigh Shoto started explaining. From the fight, to when Deku and himself went looking for her, to the flying bullets, and the building collapsing before he blacked out. 

“So where Izuku then?” (Y/n) pressed, a knot forming in the back of her throat. 

“He’s okay,” Shoto paused for a moment “He’s just resting in the other room, I promise.”

(Y/n) started shuffling around, sitting up before swinging her legs off the side of the bed opposite to where Shoto was sitting. All Shoto’s protests were ignored as she stumbled to her feet. Pain spiked up her spine as her feet hit the cold tile floors, her hands reached out grabbing the IV pole to her side for stability. Her cousin was quick to her side, helping her get her bearings. Releasing the pool, (y/n) stood straight, nodding to Shoto, signaling that she was now fine to walk on her own. While he might have let go, he was by her side nonetheless ready to help if needed. 

Shoto led the way as they walked down the white hallway. Past windows of other patients residing in the hospital. It wouldn’t be a surprise if some of these people were here because of the fight prior. There were even a few heroes that she recognized fighting alongside that day. It was heartbreaking. But not as heartbreaking as what she saw next. She hadn’t even realised that they arrived since she was still looking around. But, she stopped scanning her surroundings when her eyes landed on the person on the other side of the open door.She couldn’t look away, she was stuck in place as she took in the sight before her.  

There before them was Izuku, her Izuku lay unmoving on the creamy white bed, bandages scattered from head to toe, connected to some machine to his right with an IV hanging from a pole to his left. 

“Can I- can I go in?” She murmured softly.

Shoto nodded, pulling over a chair for her to the left side of the bed. After getting all situated, he pulled her into a hug before leaving the room. Leaving her in silence. 

It was always hard for her to see him so hurt. They have been friends since diaper days. Walking through life hand in hand. The two even got into UA together. Seeing him like this almost reminds her of his pitiful state after the sports festival, man she almost ripped Shoto a new one when she saw the extent of his injuries. Izuku wasn’t even aware of how hurt he was then, he was just so happy he made a breakthrough with Shoto. Izuku always loves those sports festivals, from the times where he participated in them, to the times he now watches them, eyes glazed with wonder as the newest students demonstrated their skills and quirks. Be brought a whole new meaning to the phrase of ‘once a fan always a fan’. 

They had to have an entire bookshelf of his notes by now. Quite the curious creature. Entranced by new and old quirks, never putting one down over the other, instead he saw the wonder in all quirks and skills. Something Izuku made quite clear when he was asked to visit last year's freshman at UA. It was a funny sight to see as the number one hero blabbered on and on about how cool all their quirks were. But one kid in particular caught his eye, he was a young kid, who sat in the back of the class, taking up as little space as possible. He seemed to wince a little when Izuku mentioned quirks. When Izuku asked the teacher about the kid after they all left, he found out that the kid was quirkless. God, his reaction to hearing that made her fall so much father in love. Izuku ran to find that kid and hugged the life out of him. While most might have thought it was just Deku being the loving hero he was, she knew it was more than that. She knew all he went through before UA, how everyone put him down. So of course, she knew what that kid becoming a hero meant to him. His love for others never ceased to shine through the darkest of times. 

(Y/n) chuckled, all through these years he has never truly changed. Always staying the same old lovable dork he had alway been. And she wouldn’t change a thing about him. Her bandaged hands caressed his own, thumbs brushing the scars along his knuckles. Quite the heart warming site for anyone who happened to look through the window. 

It was another hour or so before Izuku woke. Poor thing was just as blinded as she was before. It pained her to see how groggy he was, but she was there for him, peeling one of her hands comb through his unruly locks. At first his eyes flared with panic, but that was only until they landed on her. Instantly tearing up in relief. 

“Hey you,” He croaked out.

“Hey,” She whispered softly, voice full of adoration and love.

Nothing else was said. Nothing else needed to be said. All words were shared by simply being present. Shoto came in much later to check on them and only to see them both on the bed, arms holding onto each other for dear life. Smiles lying on both their faces.

The next morning they were released from the hospital after getting cleared by the staff.

Izuku groaned “My back hurts.”

“Duh, we sleep on rocks dressed to look like a bed,” (Y/n) retorted lightly. 

“Have pity on me.”

She pecked his pouting lips “I don’t think I will.”

With a dramatic huff, Izuku flopped onto their apartment couch, tosing his arms over the edge for extra effects.  

“Oh no, Izuku has passed, whatever shall I do,” (y/n) said in a tone of fake worry.

A blanket was draped over his form, covering even his face. 

She let out a long sign footsteps getting further from the couch. “I guess there is no one who will lay with me and cuddle on the bed.” 

When she started to hear him shuffle around, she booked it for their room and shut the door right before he got to her, locking so he couldn’t get in. 

“Oh my god, open the door, I have earned some cuddles,” He whined. 

“I can hear his ghost now”

“I swear, I will knock this darn door to hell,”

“I dare you”

A moan of frustrations passed through Izuku’s lips, a giggle leaving her own. If it was a game of chase she wanted, she was going to get it. The day was filled with playful fighting that led into the night. Their love was pure. It was stronger than any quirk. A bond no one could break. 

Things finally started to settle down as the moonlight set in through the windows. Both had just finished showering, soft cotton pjs falling onto skin. Hums of (y/n) fluttered around the air as she swayed from side to side following the melody in their bedroom. Izuku walked out of the bathroom stopping to lean on the door frame, gazing upon the heavenly angel waltzing around the room. She paused in her ministries when she felt eyes on her back. Looking over her shoulder with a warm smile, turning to him as he walked over to her. Heavy scared arms encased her waist as she was brought into his loving embrace. In return, she swung her arms around his neck resting the side of her head on his chest. Izuku tucked her head under his chin, closing his eyes in contentment as they swayed with her peaceful hums. 

 Her melody faded out to a comfortable silence. Neither of them pulled away, staying in each other's arms for a little while longer. Izuku started to shift, making her look into his emerald eyes. Oh how she loved those beautiful eyes. They glowed with vibrant green life. 

“Keep looking at me like that and I just skip the proposal and marry you right now,” 

She lowered her as she chuckled, slightly shaking her head hoping to hide the quick spreading blush on her cheeks. Pulling one and from her waist Izuku his fingers under her chin guiding her gaze back to his. 

“You think I kidding, I’ll do it right now,”

Curiosity filled her as she eyed him. Guiding them over to the night stand Izuku pulled open the bottom cabinet, shuffling a couple of things around, searching for the desired object. (Y/n) gasped before slapping a hand over her mouth. A small velvet back box lay in the palm of his hand. Her knees were buckling as her vision blurred as water built up around the edges of her eyes. Recognizing her starstruck state, Izuku gently pushed her back so that she was sitting on the edge of the bed. Eyes followed his every move, Watching as he shifted himself to one knee in front of her. All her attention was on him and only him.

“I don’t even know how to start this,” He shook his head “Man. Kirishima would be so disappointed.”

She let out a light laugh, waiting for him to continue. “I love you, ya know that right? When you were not responding to your com that night, you scared the living daylights out of me. Images of you sleeping next to me and images of you lying lifeless in the rumble kept flashing through my head. And I- I don’t know what I would do if- if you had-.” Izuku paused, trying desperately to hold back the lump in his throat. Head dipping down, only to be lifted up by gentle hands cupping his cheek.

“But, you found me,” She whispered, combing a piece of hair from his face, tears of her own cascading down her face. “You found me, you saved me. Like you always promised to do our first year of UA. And I will always do the same for you, without even batting an eye.”

The hand that wasn’t holding the box encased one of her’s on the side of his face. “Aren’t I supposed to be proposing to you?”

They shared a laugh, pressing their foreheads together. “Just put the ring on me you dork,”

He did just that, delicately sliding the ring on her finger. And after, he pounced on her, trapping her in his arms rolling them from side to side as happy tears streamed down both their faces. 

No one was surprised that they were getting married, just that it happened the way it did. All their friends and family celebrated their engagement. And while everyone shed a couple of tears, no one shed them quite like his mother and All Might. 

The two would have a lot to plan these next couple of months, and on top of that they had hero responsibilities to attend to. It might get stressful, but they will be in it together. Nothing could shake them, for they had a bond like no other. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hello, I swear I am not dead! Well maybe not physically, mentally though, that’s a different story. I’m still working on the next part for hawk’s story, i am hoping to finish it sometime next week! I promise that I did not abandon it. Until then I offer this piece of trash I wrote last night.

[cecesxwickedxocsx]

Daybreak, Seamus x Maisie

Did anyone ask for a Seaisie AU involving Vampires? No. Are you getting it anyway? Yes. 

Maisie had always had trouble sleeping. Her mom often joked that while most babies learned to sleep through the night at a couple months old, Maisie was going on two hundred months old and still couldn’t sleep through the night. 

For a long time, she’d wake up in the night, or just not be able to sleep, and she’d just lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, hoping she could get to sleep. Then she started to get up and work on things in her room. She couldn’t just roam the house, her family would wake up and it ended up being more of a fight than it was worth. 

About two months before, she decided to start going for walks when she couldn’t sleep. She would simply sneak out of her bedroom window and just… walk. She walked through her neighborhood at first, then ventured further out. Now she would go to a park not that far from her home, and she would explore there It was a large park, technically it wasn’t open to the public at night, but as long as she paid attention it was easy enough to avoid the park ranger whose job it was to make sure kids like her stayed out. 

She would have loved to listen to music while she walked, for her birthday she had gotten a walkman cassette player and the idea of strolling through the park listening to her favorite music sounded amazing, but that would mean making herself vulnerable to the ranger. 

That night started like any other, her mom went to bed, her sister went to bed soon after. It was about an hour and a half after that, she heard her brother’s TV click off and she knew he was going to bed too, leaving her the sole conscious person in the house. She picked up her backpack with her sketchbook inside and laced up her Converse, ducking out the open window and down the trellis out into the night. 

She headed for the park, going her usual way, she sometimes mixed it up, going a different way, she wasn’t completely stupid, she knew she could easily be followed, which was why she tried to change it every now and then, but it was so easy to fall into the same path, it was almost like she was on auto pilot. Next thing she knew, the entrance to the park was there, she was climbing over the gate to stop people from coming in after hours and that was it. 

There was a pond at the park, that was her favorite place to go late at night. She sat down and opened the backpack, pulling out her book and her pencil, she flipped it to a fresh page and she began to sketch. 

She already knew what she’d call this collection when she made it, it was going to be the Night Park collection, as every piece had been dreamt up next to this pond, in the middle of the night, while she enjoyed the soft sounds of nature. 

“Hey! You!” She jumped, looking up, all she could see was a flashlight beam. She didn’t hesitate, grabbing her bag and her book and running off. She knew she could lose the man in the trees she’d had to do it before. She slipped into the treeline and moved as fast as she could, her backpack bouncing on her back, her sketchbook clutched in her arms. 

She could hear him behind her, his breathing heavy as he attempted to keep up with her, she knew it wouldn’t be long before he’d give up and just let her go. He did every time. This time he had made it further than usual but sure enough, after a few more minutes of running, her footsteps were the only ones she could hear, she slowed until she came to a stop, looking back behind her for any signs of the flashlight, but it was dark, completely dark actually. She found that she’d run far enough into the trees that even the moonlight couldn’t break through the canopy. She was ready for this though. 

She dropped her sketchbook into the backpack and withdrew a flashlight. She knew it wasn’t a great one, she’d stolen it from Dean, but hopefully it would do it’s job long enough to get her out of the woods and out of the park. She headed through the trees, the dim light from the torch leading the way. 

This was when she realized she really and truly had no idea where she was. She knew, of course, it was the park, but she didn’t know what part of the park she was in. She turned back the way she came, she might have to face the ranger heading the way, but she just wanted out of the woods now. Any trace of tiredness she’d had was gone, wide awake and a little scared. 

One thing she hadn’t thought to pack was of course fresh batteries, which she realized was definitely a problem as the flashlight fluttered out. She slapped the side of the thing and it came back for a moment, but then died again. 

“Fuck.” She whispered, it was definitely dead. She dropped the dead flashlight into the bag again, managing to resist the urge to throw it against a tree. 

She kept walking, kept going, completely unsure what time it was, she had a watch but she couldn’t see it in the dark and had to move extremely slow to avoid running into trees or stumbling over roots. 

When she saw a pale glow of light, she nearly cried, moving a little faster in that direction. It wasn’t until she broke through the trees that she felt she could actually breathe again, she was now in a clearing, which wasn’t ideal, but it would work for now. She took a deep breath and sank down into the grass. 

“You seem lost.” She whirled, shocked to find someone standing behind her. There stood a man, his sandy hair was messy, but it seemed to be that way on purpose. His dark eyes seemed locked on her, taking her in. His voice had an Irish lilt to it, reminding her of the man that lived across the street from her family, but only in the voice, the man across the street didn’t look anything like this. 

“I… Sorry.” She shook her head. “I’m not lost. I was just… out for a walk.” She scrambled to stand, her eyes not leaving the man as he slowly walked closer. 

“Not a lot of people come this far into the forest, especially at night.” The man informed her, circling. 

“I’m not like a lot of people.” She replied simply. 

“So I see.” He quirked an eyebrow. “And do you have a name?”

“I do.”

“What is that name?” He asked, she could see he was mildly amused at the back and forth. 

“What’s yours?”

“Seamus.” He didn’t try to play any games back. “Yours?”

“Maisie.” She lifted her chin a little higher, she knew better than to back down, to show her fear. The idea that this… guy… might like seeing her scared made her even more bold. 

“Maisie.” he repeated, stepping even closer, now he was within arms length. He looked her up and down slowly once more before she could see in his eyes, he made a choice. “Maisie, would you like help getting out of here?”

“Do you know the way out?” She asked, not backing down. 

“I do.” He confirmed, holding a hand out to her. She glanced down at it, unsure. She wanted to go home but she didn’t know if trusting this man was the best choice. However, the only other option was to sleep here and try to navigate her way out in the morning, which felt like an even worse idea. 

Maisie pressed her lips together in resignation and took Seamus’s hand. It took every ounce of will power she had to not yank her hand back in shock. His hand was ice cold, the kind of cold that no human hand should be. However, she managed to keep ahold of him and he smirked, obviously amused. 

“Right this way.” He turned and headed into the trees, It was as if the dark didn’t bother him at all, the way he glided over the brush on the forest floor, leading her ways that would avoid tall roots. 

This time, when they broke through the treeline, Maisie knew where she was. All that walking and she was practically back where she started by the pond. 

“Do you know how to get out from here?” Seamus asked. 

“Yes.” She answered, finally taking her hand back. Seamus stepped away heading back for the trees. 

“Then go, and Maisie, stay out of the forest at night. You never know what out here might try and take a bite out of you.” He smirked, disappearing into the trees. 

Maisie watched him retreat, her heart pounding in her chest as, on shaky legs, she walked back home, getting into bed as if nothing happened. 

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Touchdown

Thank you @littledarlinhavefaithinme​ and @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ for the wonderful prompt.  I’ve never written Chris Beck before but Loved The Martian, and I also thought I’d throw in a little experience of my own from when I visited NASA at Houston ;)  I’m sorry this is way way longer than I thought I was going to write, please forgive me.  I hope you enjoy anyway.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of sex, tiny tiny bit of angst in the form of missing your loved one, and also a mention of horrific cardboard ice cream.

Touchdown.  Nerves jangling.  Heart fluttering.  Biting your nails, watching the news.  You had been counting the hours since the Space X return flight brought Chris Beck back to terra firma.  

Nine months.  The training mission aboard the ISS that was supposed to prepare the team for the Ares III mission to Mars had been an unequivocal success, but it had been torture for you.  Months of loneliness.  Months of waring down batteries.  Months of Pornhub.

You didn’t want to think about what that meant for the future.  Your future.  You both knew what him working for NASA entailed; missions that could last months, even years, or the possibility of no return at all.  But it was his passion.  His dream. You taught the physics but he lived it.  Up there, with nothing between him and the cosmos but the flimsy walls of a space station and the shade of the Earth.

The black escalade that pulled up out front jolted you from your daze.  Heart racing, palms clammy, you straightened your skirt and waited for his feet to hit the sidewalk.  The fight against appearing too eager vs appearing apathetic was lost when you laid eyes on his gaunt face; months up there spent wasting away, months away from you.

You tore open the door and ran until you felt his arms around you, still strong despite the low gravity and all the more urgent because of the distance.

“God, I missed you.” He buried his face in your hair and breathed deep, lifting you up and squeezing you so tight you thought your ribs would pop, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.  You missed him too, so damn much.

“You missed my cooking.” You teased as you encouraged him to put you down.  “And a real shower, I bet.”  Chris pinched your waist and chased you indoors, both of you giggling without so much as a glance at the escalade.  

No sooner had you closed the door behind him and started on a path to the kitchen to make him something proper to eat, then he spun you around and backed you up against the counter.

“You can feed me later,” he pressed himself against you, “I need something other than food, and I’ve waited long enough.”

You sighed as he smoothed his cheek against yours, trailing his nose over the delicate skin below your ear. His long, deep inhale sent a tingle down your spine but when his lips met your skin it was electric.  A melting feeling that seeped down your spine and settled between your hips, warm and wanton, and wholly made of desire.

Chris tugged your hair free of its clips and ran his fingers through it, revelling in the feel like a man who had never felt silk, watching you like you were the first flakes of snow ever seen in a desert.

You slid your hands up his fresh-from-the-packet NASA jacket and finger the zipper.  He was too occupied with the way the skin of your clavicles felt under his lips to pay much attention to what your hands were doing until his jacket was open and you’d tugged the pristine white tee from the waistband of his chinos.  Your hands were chilly, like always, and he gasped a little as he sucked on your earlobe. He hadn’t kissed you yet but you were fine to wait, he was familiarising himself with the feel of you, your scent and afterwards, your taste.  This man made you melt, even after months apart, maybe especially because of that.

Chris slid his hands up your legs, dragging your skirt up until he reached the top of your stockings. His groan made you bite your lip.

“What else are you hiding under there?”  He grinned cheekily, fingering one of the straps of your lacy red suspenders.  “It’s my duty to launch a thorough investigation.”

Jesus you missed this man. His goofy playfulness, his sweet and loving nature, and his brilliant mind.  You also missed the feel his skin against yours, his hands roaming your body like undiscovered territory, hot lips teasing, and the feel of him between your legs, hard and heavy and holy shit what the hell was he doing right then? He tore open your blouse, exposing a red lace balconette bra, nipping the skin of your chest impishly.

Christ had spread your legs with his thigh, pressing the lean muscle against your lace-clad heat. His breath was as tattered as your blouse, uneven and rough as he dragged open-mouthed kisses over every inch of your exposed skin.  Urgency ramping up until he was licking and gorging himself on your scent, rubbing himself against you as if to wear the very essence of you.

“Baby…”  You sighed and he hushed you, nibbling on your lower lip without giving you the kiss that you wanted from him, the intimacy, the care.

Chris fumbled with his belt and zipper as his open mouth lay against yours and despite you tempting him with needy licks and kisses of your own, he remained solely focused on one thing; burying his face between your thighs as deep as possible.  His cock could wait until later.

Depositing you on the countertop, he wrenched your red lace gusset aside and plunged his tongue into you with reckless abandon, licking and sucking and smearing your juices across his cheeks and chin.  The moans and slurping noises he made was enough to push you to the edge.

Your first orgasm made your thighs quake but he wasn’t finished with you just yet.  Chris pushed and pushed you higher, further, faster until you were begging for him to stop, oversensitivity creating the sharpest pain that could still be called pleasure.  Then and only then did he give you his fingers.

“Chris, please!”  You begged, voice wavering as he built yet another climax for you.  He clearly hadn’t lost his ability to play you like an instrument during his stay on the ISS.  “I want you.”

He was always great with his hands, that’s why he was a surgeon.  Those deft fingers that built you up and laid you to waste on a pedestal of pure pleasure, and then tore you down until you wallowed on the shores of desperation, needing more.  More emotion, more pleasure, more love, more him.  He’d always give you more.

“You ready for me, huh, baby girl?”  He stood between your legs with his cock in hand, rubbing the tip through the wet heat of your gash.

No answer was needed. You reached for him and he drove himself home with a magnificent sigh.  You’d waited so long for him to come home, and now that he was home, you wanted to feel every inch of him, whichever way he needed to give it to you.

His pace was punishing and he clung to you like rocks in the treacherous waters of a storm.  Hot breath against your skin, gasping moans in your ear as he fucked you, his belt buckle smacking off the counter with each thrust.  Chris was on another mission now, not one that would take him away from you but one that would bring him home, bring him closer to you, and enfold him in your very essence.

The relief and euphoria on his face as he began to orgasm was heady, dragging you with him, both throbbing out your own beat as you came.  And in the fading but breathless afterglow, he rested his forehead against yours and pulled you closer.  His kiss was needy but not desperate as he stroked your hair and cradled you to him while he softened inside you.

“You know what I fancy right now?”  He murmured with a wistful smile.

“Nice juicy steak?” You chuckled.  That’s was what you were going to cook for his touchdown dinner.

“Close, but no cigar,” he ran his fingers through your hair as he memorised the way your flushed skin looked.

You could only imagine how horrible NASA food rations were, and drinking water that was recycled from piss and sweat, amongst other things.  You shuddered.

“Ice cream,” he smiled, still tracing your features with his gaze, “any kind of ice cream that’s not freeze dried.”

His grimace made you laugh enough to push him free of you.  “Well!” You say as if scandalised.  “Let it be my mission to make you forget all about cardboard ice cream.”

“Sounds promising.” He smirked as you grabbed a carton of strawberry cheesecake Haagen Daz from the ice box, and a spoon.  “Desert before dinner?”

You winked as you tugged him towards the bedroom, fully intent on being the dish from which he ate his touchdown desert.

[imtryingthisout]

A World Grown Backwards and Inside Out: The Tree and The Child

Synopsis: A reverse Au based on @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors wonderful story Love and Other Fairytales

Warnings: Descriptions of Rot, one guy acting a fool, ask for more

Word Count: 1922

———————————————————————-

Once there was a tree that grew on the outskirts of the forest, right on the edge of civilization and nature. Straddling both sides with sweeping branches and open arms.

It was a mighty fine tree. With a thick heavy trunk and bark that laid like scales on a snake. Overlapping and building on top of one another till it created a hearty cover over the cambium. Healthy green leaves sprouted from its limbs and provided ample shade in the summertime, where the tree would shield those under it. Protecting them from the sun’s harsh rays.

It was a good old tree, a kind old tree, who loved the all children of Wickhills. The human ones who played under it’s skirt of leaves. The wild ones who hid in the shadows of its embrace. But the ones that were caught in the inbetween, the little curious ones who danced on the borderline and were drawn to the other side too much to leave it be, those were the children that the tree loved most of all.

But just because it was old and kind and fine, did not mean it wasn’t a tree. Did not mean it was untouchable. Wood rots no matter how loved it is, and rot it did. The sickness started at the edges, the little branches that sprouted from the ends of the tips of the furthest limbs. But no one noticed, because the shining children who would climb to see those branches had grown up. Slower than others might, but They grew up all the same. They turned Their eyes to the burning throne, where they found a new playground in the courtly revels. And no longer cared to look upon the tree. To eat its brambles and sleep in it’s arms.

Because the tree was a fine one, but not a Fair one, the folk of the forest cared for it no longer.

Spring turned into Summer and rot spreads faster in the heat. It festered in the tree’s arms and slithered down it’s neck.

The human children grew into themselves and turned into human adults. They got human jobs and earned human money and wanted human partners. Soon their days were filled to the brim. It wasn’t as if they didn't want to visit the tree, they were just too busy. There was work to do and food to make and children to rear and--

And so they did not notice how it’s vivid green leaves dulled and turned brown. How its bark twisted and fell and shed. They were far too busy with their lives. “Money doesn’t grow on trees,” they’d say, but neither did it buy happiness.

Because the tree was an old one, but not a profitable one, the humans cared for it no longer.

Summer cooled down like a dying corpse, and they called that decay Autumn. The air chilled and the sun hid behind the clouds that gathered above the earth. Every day the world grew more and more dark.

From the tips to the head, down the spine and to the bed, the rot traveled further and further.

Winter came. Winter came not with a storm nor with a flash. There was no warm knock on the door nor letter of attendance. It came, as it always did in those recent years, with a whisper. A slow crawl. Summer died and Autumn decayed and as time peeled back the layers of decomposition and ruined flesh, slowly (ever so slowly) the exposed bones became Winter.

And Winter meant so many things. It meant shorter days and longer nights. It meant the human children did not go outside to venture to the edge of the town. It meant the Fae were busy chasing shadows and playing court. It meant the tree would die alone.

Not even the wayward ones, the in-between children, the onesso loved by the tree would visit. They had grown up. They had picked sides. They squashed down their curiosity and settled into life like how a stone settles into mud.

Like how a mold settles into bark. Settles and spreads and eats and eats and eats and eats---

Once there was a boy. A sweet little boy who had kind eyes and a quick smile. This boy loved the tree and the tree loved him in turn. Loved how his hair grew upward and out like it’s own branches. Loved how he would sleep on its roots and leave a portion of his meals for the tree to eat. How he would dance around in the fields and try to touch the moon with his hands.

The boy grew up, got married to a woman with eyes keen and beautiful. A woman with a lovely voice and strong arms who could lift him up so that he might reach higher, higher, higher. Higher to grasp for the stars.

But even the boy grew up and chose a side, but unlike so many of his brothers, he remembered.

He went out during Winter-

He left his house during Winter-

He braved the storm during Winter-

He walked. Out. Outside. It was Winter. And Winter is cold. Cold and bitter and hungry. It freezes the world in a single moment and refuses to let go until Spring. It bites and wails and crushes heat like ants under its heels.

Winter is a petulant, greedy, child. And the no-longer-boy braves it’s bitter tantrum.

He travels down the town’s road and his memories. Cobbled pavement hard and slick with ice. As he walked the stones turned to patted dirt and the patted dirt turned to dead grass that crunched like ice under his boots.

It was Summertime last time he walked down this path (so ingrained in his bones he scarcely had to think). The end of Summer, right before the leaves turned gold-orange-red, when the days were still long but the air was crisp and sharp. A setting sun season, teetering on the edge of day and night.

They’d played for hours back then, him and the other children, ran around like spinning tops across the narrow fields. They were mindful enough to never stray too far into the forest, but that was all they were mindful of. Time, exhaustion, the world outside their little corner, did not exist to them. They ran around with eyes full of youth and skin glistening in the falling sun. Little starlight children, caught in between dusk and dawn.

And above them all was the tree. Always present, always watching, with a hundred dark and careful eyes and a hundred long and reaching arms.

This was how the tree looked in the boys' memories. Larger than life and twice as vivid, an image warped by time and nostalgia. Rounding around Miller’s Bridge, into the thin clearing of frozen grass and land that divides Wickhills and the Forest, the not-boy came face to face with reality.

Black and yellow. A twisted spire protruding from the ice-gray ground. Stuck out like a knotted wound. Darkened rot covered the decrypt figure like a thick winter coat. Standing out in front of the myriad of naked trees, the thin broken things with claws for branches and ribs for tunks, turned pale and ashen in the Winter. It was a corpse among the sleeping. Even those standing giants looked more lively than it. The thing that was no longer the tree.

And all around it’s stomach was the lashings of yellow fungus, that had come to feast on the crumbling flesh of the thing. The rot that spread from the furthest branches to the deepest roots. The rot that kills from the outside in.

The Not-Boy placed a gloved hand on the trunk. Rested a forehead on its chest. He was a carpenter, not a healer, and even he knew it was too late to stop nature. Everything that comes from the earth will eventually return to it. He knew that. Everyone knows that.

But because the tree was a loved one, and love means something. Always. The Once-Boy would not let it fall alone in the night.

The rot was a sickness that infected and burrowed. The bark was long eaten and the branches long fallen. But when he struck into the tree with his axe, the Man discovered a wondrous sight. The heart-wood was not touched by the disease that riddled the body, it stood as good and healthy as any prime oak’s.

So with a heavy and joy-filled heart, he cut down the tree, and carefully cleaned the black from it’s heart and the rot from it’s bones.

He took that wood home, and fastened a crib for his expectant wife. So that his child may too grow up cradled in the heart of the Tree. Loved and protected just as he once was. Him and all the other in-between children, playing on the edge of the sky.

In nine months time, a child will come, being born into the house that carries the tree love. The babe will be born on the first snow-fall of the season, when the air is cool and the hearth blazing. A son, wrapped in furs and nestled inside of the pale wood of his cradle. And they named him Cerdic.

--------------------------------

The girl was a quiet child, far too quiet some would say. With too large eyes and a wispy figure. Not skinny enough to cast a shadow.

Teachers would find her on the outskirts of the playground. Standing away from any commotion or company. Watching, watching, seldomly speaking or making noise. Mrs. Sherman the second grade teacher confesses that it’s hard to remember that the child exists sometimes, when caught in the loudness of the moment. Mr. Ferguson once tried to joke, “Are you sure that babe is yours? Seems like the Folk of the Frost might’ve gotten confused, forgot that snow is not skin when making the switch-”

Her Pop’s didn't like Mr. Ferguson's jokes, and neither did Ma, if the twitching in her fingers were any indicator. So Mr. Ferguson left their shop followed by tight smiles and shaking hands and did not make a joke in front of them again.

All the while, none of the adults seemed to notice the girl playing by herself in the corner.

Lily-White had three older siblings. A brother named Ash who was off in college with a full ride scholarship. Two sisters called Prim-Rose and Lacey-Anne who terrorized the halls of Wickhills high. Her herself was not the youngest, Maple was the baby of the house, barely two years old. Quiet, patient, not outgoing or extroverted, a small content child, who did not demand attention or help. Lily-White should have been a wallflower at best. Drowned out and ignored by peers and adults. And she was- almost.

Lily-White was not really named Lily-White. When her Ma was thinking up names for the child growing in her belly, she and Pa had come to a decision. If it was a boy they would name him Sorrel, and if it was a girl they would name her Lily-Rose. With that in mind, all was well. However, when the day that the babe came, born on the last eve of winter, silent as snow and just as pale. Pa was so shaken up that he accidentally wrote down Lily-White, in crooked letters, on the birth certificate. Cause that's what she was, sleeping in her mother’s dark arms, a lily white moon-child in a family of night.

And she was loved.

[terrifictomholland]

a good time - Tom Holland x reader

word count: 2,7K

warnings: this is pure smut, a few curse words. Enjoy!

It was the wrapping party for Spider-Man Far From Home and you were there with your boyfriend Tom. You were so damn proud of what he had managed to do with this character in a relatively short amount of time as well. His character development was something that you were so in awe of, and the way that Tom had truly given his all to Peter Parker, getting to know him, researching and just making sure that he was the best Peter he could be was such a wonderful thing to see. He had worked himself to the bone on this film and it had paid off. He had taken you with him to see an early screening of it and it was fucking dope and you couldn't have been prouder of him. And now here you were, surrounded by the cast and some of the crew of the film, Jacob, Zendaya, Harrison and Tom's brothers were with you, to name a few. 

You were sat in Tom's lap on one of the couches that you had there in the club, all 7 of you chatting and drinking, just having a great time. Tom's hands resting on your thigh, rubbing it mindlessly making you smile, glancing back at him seeing him give you a private smile. "Oi lovebirds! Don't go into your own world now! We wrapped a bloody movie! Socialise with us!" Harrison told you and you both looked over at everyone else seeing them smirk, making the both of you blush. "Well, I'm sorry Harrison that you can't bag a girl for yourself to enjoy being in a relationship with!" you mocked hearing Tom laughing, as did the others. "Care for some ice there Haz?" Sam smirked and Haz flipped him off with a grin, taking a swig of his beer. You laughed, stealing Tom's beer having a taste of it aswell, he just chuckled.  "Thirsty darling?" he murmured, his hands still on your thigh, moving ever so slightly higher up. "For you? Always," you smirked and he bit his lip, looking at yours. 

"Mm, same here babe," he whispered in your ear, biting down lightly on your earlobe making your breath hitch. You got up swiftly, "let's dance," you told him, pulling him up by the hand dragging him to the dancefloor. "Someone hot and bothered?" he smirked, hands immediately gripping your hips and you leaned back into his chest and you bit your lip, moving against him with your hand ending up around the back of his neck. "Shut up," you murmured grinding your ass against him and you smirked hearing the sharp inhale, his hands tightening their grip on your hips even more. "Tease," he growled in your ear and you shivered feeling goosebumps appear. 

You turned around, facing him now looking into his eyes, seeing them darken with lust and you leaned forward kissing him hotly, he moved his knee between yours and you grinded against eachother, no doubt taking things a bit further than you normally would out in public. But you were having fun, you were letting loose! You felt Tom's hand move to your ass squeezing it through your skin-tight jeans pulling you against him even further, making you moan feeling him harden in his jeans. You broke the kiss, moving down sucking on his sweet spot right below his ear, hearing him groan.

"Fuck gorgeous," he murmured and you smiled, sucking on his neck knowing damn well you left a mark there. "Wanna take it back to the hotel?" you murmured, looking up at him seeing him nod his head. 

He pulled away slightly from you making you whine at the loss and he laughed, pecking you and taking your hand going over to your friends, "We're gonna head out," he announced and you bit your lip smiling shyly knowing damn well that they knew why you were leaving so early. "Don't get too crazy," Harry called with a smirk and you flipped him off as you both were leaving, the last thing you and Tom heard was the table laughing at your retreating backs. "You look so gorgeous tonight," Tom whispered, kissing your neck once you got into the elevator. Thank god you were staying in the hotel and that the wrapping party had been in the club of the hotel, "You should see what I'm wearing underneath...or not wearing," you teased, "What a fucking tease you are," he groaned moving his hands into the pocket of your jeans giving your ass a squeeze, making you moan, pushing your chest into him. "You look good enough to eat," you moaned, tangling your fingers in his hair pulling him down kissing him hungrily, moaning as he shoved you against the elevator wall.  

  Your hands moving up and down his clothed chest, wanting nothing more than to get to your hotel room so that you could finally have him and let him have his wicked way with you, god knows you wanted it. "I want you baby, so much," you moaned in his ear knowing it would drive him wild, "Not nearly as much as I want you," he grunted making it known just how much he wanted you. Your hand reached down palming him through his jeans, "Shit babe," he cursed throwing his head back. You grinned, feeling so powerful at the effect you had on him.     Finally, fucking finally you made it to your floor and you both got out of the elevator, a giggly mess with your hands roaming eachothers bodies. He was the one who had the key-card to your room and while he tried getting the door open your hand moved down to the front of his jeans again, palming him, "I can't wait to have your cock in my mouth," you moaned in his ear watching him try to get the door open desperately, "Fuck!" he hissed, your nimble fingers already unbuttoning his jeans, "C'mon hurry up!" you pressed and at last he got the door unlocked before your hand could slip inside of his boxers, which you weren't far from doing.

As soon as you were inside and the door was shut and locked, he had you slammed against the wall and he was pressed up against you, lips on yours hungrily. His hands roaming all over your body and yours were pulling and tugging on his leather jacket, wanting it off. You succeeded and his shirt came off moments later, as did yours. "You don't play fair babe," he hummed kissing his way down your body, reaching your bra and you threw your head back as he unhooked it, throwing it somewhere, who the hell cared when Tom played with your nipples and took one in his mouth, sucking hard. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, chest pushed forward. "god Tom," you moaned, tangling your hand in his hair feeling the all too familiar throb between your legs and you tried to shift to your other leg to get some kind of relief. 

Tom noticed it immediately and you felt him smirk against your nipple, gently biting down with a hand moving down to your front cupping you through your jeans, "Oh my god," you panted, you were such a sucker for nipple play and he knew it. He knew exactly what you liked and what you wanted. "name's Tom, but god works," he quipped and you tugged harshly on his hair making him groan and you smirked, that was interesting. "mmh don't you like it better when it's your name I'm screaming though?" you murmured, teasingly running a finger along the waistband of his boxers and he let out a moan. "fucking right you will be," he growled making you whimper, those noises he made absolutely soaked your panties every time. 

   You pulled on his jeans wanting them off and he got the hint, shrugging out of them quickly, as did you, leaving both of you on an even playing field. You bit your lip at the sight of him hard as a rock through his boxers. You dropped to your knees, licking your lips as you trailed a finger along his clothed cock, hearing the gasp he let out. "don't be a tease love," he hissed and you grinned, leaning forward mouthing at his cock, hearing him whimper. "take them off," he grunted, you obeyed and pulled his boxers off, letting out a moan at the sight of his cock. God it was a glorious one.    You squeezed your thighs together, knowing damn well how good he could make you feel with his cock. You leaned forward, giving his cock a few kitten licks, his moans egging you on as you licked the underside of his cock, teasing him. "C'mon babe," he whined, pulling on your hair and you moaned, taking him in your mouth at last. Your eyes closing as you started bobbing your head up and down, taking more and more of him in your mouth. "that's it babygirl," he praised and you moaned, a hand slipping down your front, inside of your panties touching yourself. You moaned helplessly as you rubbed your clit, feeling shockwaves course throughout your body. Tom pulling on your hair making you take him all the way inside of your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat and you gasped, opening your eyes, looking up at him with tears in your eyes. "god fuck what a sight," he groaned, pushing his hips forward and you let him fuck your mouth like that, gagging every now and then, but you loved it. Loved letting him use you to get himself off, much like you were doing to yourself, your fingers rubbing your clit faster and faster. "You touching yourself babe?" he murmured seeing your hand inside of your panties, you helplessly nodded, slurping at his cock as though it was a lollipop. "Show me babe," he murmured, pulling his cock out of your mouth and you whimpered at the loss. His request almost being too much for you, but you obliged, ripping off your panties, moaning as you teased yourself, fingers rubbing your clit just how you liked it. You could see Tom moving his hand down, grasping his cock, starting to jerk himself off, watching your every move with lustfilled eyes. This just turned you on even further. "Feel good baby?" he asked, "Y-yeah," you moaned slipping two fingers inside of yourself easily, your eyes rolling back and your chest pushed forward, your other hand coming up to your tits, rolling your nipple between your fingers,     "Better than when I finger-fuck you?" he dared and you shook your head, whimpering. "I-it's never as good," you whimpered, wanting him so badly to fill you up with his cock before you could combust. "that's right baby," he growled sending shivers down your spine, your movements speeding up and you could feel your orgasm getting closer and closer, that build getting more and more intense as your legs shook a bit. This, your fingers and at the same time seeing Tom getting off by watching you get off was too much, "that's it babe, come for me," Tom ordered, of course he knew you were about to come, and his words were all you needed as you came with a cry, your whole body feeling like it was on fire, your eyes shut as you tried catching your breath. You vaguely heard Tom cumming as well, you hazily opened your eyes, biting your lip. "That was so hot," you murmured crawling over to Tom, planting yourself in his lap feeling his hands on your ass immediately. "Fuck yeah it was, god you're so hot when you cum," he growled giving your ass a slap and you moaned. "Not as good as when you do it to me," you breathed, kissing him deeply, grinding into him.

"How did I get so lucky?" he whispered against your lips and you gently bit down on his bottom lip, moving a hand down to his cock, stroking it. "Oh fuck," he groaned closing his eyes, it took no time whatsoever for him to harden again, which was exactly what you wanted. "I've wanted you in me all night long, ever since I saw you in that leather jacket baby, all I could imagine was you giving it to me so good," you purred in his ear, holding his cock and sinking down slowly. The breath got knocked out of the both of you completely, once he was fully inside of you. "F-fuck," you moaned letting your head fall back, just relishing how good it felt having him fill you up. "I'm gonna give it to you so fucking good you'll ache for days," he promised, smacking your ass again making you moan louder than before and you dug your nails into his back. "please baby," you purred moving up and down on him, using one hand on his shoulder for leverage as you gained speed. 

One of his hands moved from your ass to your hip helping you move and just as you came down he slammed up into you making you scream out, it was exactly what you wanted. "yes! Y-yes baby," you screamed, feeling his hot breath on your nipple again, seconds later he had the nub in his mouth, rolling it around his teeth, lightly grazing it.   The sensation of him slamming into you and him teasing your nipples like that were enough to nearly send you over the edge once again, but you weren't done, not yet. "You like that baby?" he murmured huskily against your nipple, glancing up at you with hooded eyes, as you helplessly nodded. "More, I want more," you moaned and he let go of your nipple, blowing cold air on the sensitive nub making you gasp, just as he moved his hand down to your clit, rubbing the sensitive nerve with just enough pressure to make your jaw drop and you saw stars. "ohmyfuckinggod," you cried out, you were so close you could cry at this point, every single inch of your body felt like it was lit on fire, the pressure of your second orgasm building rapidly,     "Yeah you like that don't you?" Tom taunted and you whimpered moving your hips, your mouth opening in a silent scream as he reached your g-spot, your whole body tensing up as he continuously hit your g-spot. He slapped your ass roughly one more time and that was enough to tip you over the edge as you came with a scream, tightening around him, making Tom come as well, pulsating inside of you and you heard him let out a groan, completely spent the both of you. "Jesus," you breathed after a while, putting your face in his neck feeling him rub your back lazily. "That was so fucking good babe," he said and you could hear the smirk on his face. "It really, really was," you agreed kissing his neck gently. "Wanna take it to the bed now?" he asked after a while and you nodded, slowly getting up feeling the pleasant ache in your whole body. "God I'm gonna be sore," you moaned, collapsing on the bed, "Damn right you will be," he nodded arrogantly and you reached out slapping his chest. "Don't be a dick or you're not getting any," you threatened which just made him laugh. As if you'd ever refuse his cock. You couldn't help your grin when you heard him laugh and you looked over at him completely in love with this boy beside you. "I love you," you smiled, seeing the mega-watt smile take over his face, "I love you too babe," he grinned reaching over to kiss you sensually. Just as things were progressing, your phone went off with a text and you groaned, breaking the kiss, slowly getting out of the bed and over to the floor where your phone was seeing a text from Zendaya, 'As good of a time as I'm sure you're both having, I can hear it all so keep it down yeah? xx' you giggled, showing Tom the text and you glanced at him, then typed out with Tom reading over your shoulder the whole time, 'Come join us to find out how good of a time we can show you ;)'