#((My thighs are going to come back with vengeance tomorrow but I do not CARE))

[celestial-narwhal]

((Hullo! Sorry for the inactivity, I've been gone the entire day playing with friendos :D It was such a nice day and a breath of fresh air to be able to goof off like we were kids again. We went hiking and ate so much good food. Even rented a tandem bike and caused so much mayhem. Needless to say we made a good number of strangers laugh at us struggling to use that cursed bike. Hopefully tomorrow I can work on some inbox stuff and drafts :> I hope everyone here can find a day to go outside and just enjoy their day being free and full of delight!))

[erin-writes-ghost-fluff]

Nameless Ghoul tickle headcanons, part one

A/N: I think my brain privileges need to be taken away. Not adding GIFS or pics because I'm still somewhat new to the fandom and the only ghouls I know for certain just by looking at are Swiss, Mountain, and Cirrus, and I don't wanna mix anyone up. Breaking this up into two parts, since there's eight of them. Right then! Here we go, in no particular order!

~ ~ ~

Mountain:

-Ticklish but not too much.

-Still can get reactions from him though.

-Spots include: where his tail meets his back, ribs, under arms, and thighs.

-Because he's so tall, one's best bet is to get him on the ground.

-It's usually a group effort if one wants to tickle him.

-He'll make things hard for the person trying to tickle him though.

-Chuckles a lot initially but get his tail and that'll get him really laughing.

-Has this booming, deep laugh that can be heard no matter where one is in the ministry. Hearty, loud laugh.

-Prefers to be the one doing the tickling. His height comes in handy here.

-Not above picking a target up, holding them upside down, and then going to town on their ribs or stomach.

-Smiles and laughs with the one he's tickling.

-Playfully teases his target.

-Will use his tail to tickle someone.

~ ~ ~

Rain:

-Definitely one of the more ticklish ghouls.

-Tickle spots include ribs, paw pads, (A/N: Yes, I headcanon Ghouls have peets) stomach, knees, and sides. Ribs are a death spot.

-Giggly boi.

-Shy. Hides his face a lot when he laughs.

-His tail wags when he gets tickled, embarrassing the hell out of him.

-Favorite tickle target of Dew and Aether.

-He gets ganged up on a l o t.

-Gets called 'giggle bug' as a teasy nickname and it scrambles his brain.

-Tries to get back at those that tickle him... But it quickly devolves and he's right back to being the one getting tickled.

-Can't win a tickle to save his life.

-Squirms and wiggles

-Get the right spot and he'll squeal!

-Gets extremely cuddly with Dew after he's been tickled.

-Prefers gentler, softer tickles. They're what gets him laughing the most.

-Swiss is an absolute menace with him because Swiss has trouble handling cute things.

~ ~ ~

Dewdrop:

-Absolutely explosive reactions when it comes to getting tickled.

-Tickle spots include: Base of tail, sides, horns, stomach and spine.

-Cannot withhold his reactions for a second.

-A lot of thrashing and flailing.

-His tail goes fucking crazy. It whips around quite a bit and if one isn't careful, he may smack you on "accident" with it.

-Cackles when one gets a bad spot. He guffaws a lot too.

-One must be careful after tickling Dew. He's a known revenge seeker and will be a plague unto one's house.

-He may not get his vengeance today or tomorrow... But he'll get it when one least expects it.

-He uses rougher tickles but never hard enough to cause pain or discomfort. He's significantly gentler with Rain.

-Not above using his tail to tickle someone and then acts like he's not doing anything.

-Like Mountain, tickling Dew takes a group effort but because he fights and tries to make it hard on the one trying to tickle him.

-The only one that can tickle him without getting fought, is Rain.

~ ~ ~

Swiss

-Oh boy. Ohhhhhh boy, we have an absolute bastard here.

-Definitely prefers to be the one dishing out tickles but doesn't mind if his target tries to get him back. He finds it fun and entertaining.

-He has some pretty neat mind powers. One of those not-so-neat powers is sending tingles to tickle spots. If he wants to be an even bigger ass hat, he can make it feel like there's actual fingers doing the tickling.

-He teases and he's mean as fuck about it. His teases never fail to render a target into a giggly, flustered puddle. Get flustered by the word 'tickle'? Welp, he's gonna use it as often as possible, just to fuck up your shit

-Because he can read minds, he knows a target's tickle spots already.... Which means they're fucked.

-Beware! He will use his teeth! He likes to nibble at necks or stomachs. That's how he nearly killed Rain and got launched into orbit by Copia.

-Uses teasy pet names too. He was the one that started calling Rain "giggle bug."

-Flirts too. Both tickling someone and getting tickled.

-On the flip side? He's rather ticklish himself.

-Tickle spots include: Thighs, hips, horns, between the shoulder blades, stomach, and underarms. Hips are a death spot.

-Melodious laugh. Very pleasant to listen to. Gets loud and wheezes from time to time but still very charming. Especially when he snorts.

-Will use his mind powers to fend off the one who wants to tickle him. He'll make his escape while they're busy laughing.

-Everyone knows when Swiss is in a mood to wreak havoc and tickle others. He starts sending tingles to every ghoul in the vicinity- sometimes Terzo and Copia- and starts looking for a target. He won't tickle someone if they don't want him to, though.

-Has absolutely no fucks to give about coming after Secondo, if the mood takes him.

-Likes coming after Terzo because he's smol.

-He met his match with Sunshine though... More on her in part two!

A/N: Should have part two up soon!

[yourflowersfirst]

day 1,515

written 2.5 ish years ago- trigger warning (sorry)

it doesn’t normally bother me. it doesn’t normally bother anyone, if i’m being honest. many things i do bother people. i don’t eat very much, i eat too much. i overshare online. i am a sex worker. i laugh kind of ugly. i am a disorganized mess. i am constantly losing or misplacing things. i sometimes take a while to reply to messages; reply too fast other times. i don’t stick up for myself- especially when men treat me like i’m dumber than i actually am (this happens frequently). i’m pretentious and charming until you hurt me, then i cut you off with a vengeance. i’m too much and not enough all at once. i worry at my looks often; i feel unworthy of having a face.

but this one thing seems to go under your radar.

i’m not really complaining. it’s preferable. this is just an observation. sometimes it is not unnoticed, but this comes as quick glances, an awkward face, and nothing else. subject change. strictly professional.

my boyfriend (“boyfriend” used very loosely since he can’t commit to a whore like me) doesn’t even notice, and i’m around him constantly. well, he notices. he just doesn’t care, which is damn near worse. every time i sulk into the living room with new bandages on my left forearm or tops of my thighs, he hardly glances. no empathy. no questions. no, “why would you do that to yourself?” none of that. he will tell me he is going to order food, or go lay in bed if it’s late enough. i nod robotically. we are very mundane. we are simple, quiet, gentle. we are not physically intimate. any sweet words we had for each other died up and shriveled in the sun. occasionally he will cuddle me until i feel my skin crawl from overstimulation. we go on dates twice a month like clockwork, and every night in my bathroom, i run the sink faucet and cry so hard i vomit. but the rest of that is for another time. i allow this treatment. it’s what i deserve-

wait. let me backpedal. i was wrong. one person has noticed and acted in turn- my mother, of all people. i look in the mirror and occasionally see her eyes staring back at me, green and sad and overworked and used by every man she’s ever encountered. history has repeated itself in me, her oldest, her most resented. anyway, she took the old boxcutters out of my childhood bedroom, so i can’t cut myself open whenever i visit ohio. it drives me insane. i scratch at myself with my nails, but it doesn’t do much good. the endorphin and dopamine rush isn’t the same, the crimson doesn’t appear without the tool she has taken away. i love that color, as cliche as that sounds.

i was filming today and the bright studio grade lights lit me up like a christmas tree. a relatively pale one, but still. every freckle, scar, and bruise was visible on my body. the particularly angry and pink self inflicted wounds stood out. this is what got me thinking. my costar was next to me and didn’t even seem to notice. if he did, it likely filled him with disgust. the director didn’t notice, i know this. if he had, the scene would have stopped. it would never have been released. most men can’t jerk off if a model has obvious dark imperfections. i know a girl who once had to leave a porn set early because her stretch marks were too visible. distracting, the director told her. something she can’t even control and she got sent away anyways. like a leper.

but i finished the shoot today. took it like a champ. dissociated the whole time, my mind wandering to the ocean and seeing my dog again. i remember fake smiling and how badly the kitchen table was hurting me. (modeling is never comfortable.) and of course, i remember how vile my scars looked. i still have to shoot more tomorrow and the day after, and my thoughts will wander right out the window while doing it. i tell myself it’s not a problem and that my sexual trauma never resurfaces. definitely not. but. kyle wasn’t that long ago, in hindsight.

when i was a teenager, first cutting myself at age 13, i didn’t really have a motive as to why i did it. i’d never seen anyone do it before, but i gave into one intrusive thought with a kitchen knife, and suddenly i was addicted. i liked the buzz that came after. the cleanup, the care. i liked seeing physical evidence of something i had control over. starving and losing weight wasn’t quick- seeing blood gush out of me was instant gratification. whenever someone did notice my arms, i denied. denied all the way to hell. i used to have real, actual, cringey dreams that someday a boy would romantically kiss all the scars on my skin and tell me i'm beautiful anyway. but i'm not beautiful. to most people, me doing that to myself is just an annoying habit, like nail biting or snoring, if they even notice i do it. i once bled too much once and my mom had to take me to the hospital- maybe that’s why she took my boxcutters in adulthood. to prevent me from bleeding out again. it was acceptable as a 17 year old, but at 23, it would just be embarrassing, and an expensive hospital trip. my friends wouldn’t even send me a cheap dollar store “get well soon” card. they wouldn’t even notice my lack of texts in the group chat- perhaps they’d feel relief that i finally shut up.

i don’t know what the point of any of this is. i’m still going to cut myself, and no one will stop me or care, and i prefer it that way. showers will still burn sometimes and i’ll still keep nexcare bandaids in full stock in my bathroom cabinet. none of this is a complaint, i hope you know that. they’re just my thoughts. i haven’t slept much these past few days.

maybe it’s a physical release. the mental and emotional release is my writing, the shit no one reads. the rest is physical release. i am a caged animal, teeth bared, hoping you get too close so i can bite your hand clean off.

so. authors note. i wrote this a while ago, and it’s been sitting in my 50,000 word google doc ever since. i wanted to post it now. i’ll let you figure out why.

[separatist-apologist]

"truth is that i'm so damn in love with you that i don't know what to do with myself" - for lucien please!!

I'm so sorry I've fallen behind on prompts! I will be answering them all with a vengeance this upcoming week. Also, I hope you wanted smut.

This is NSFW, 18+, you know the editing vibes (non-existent).

--

Friends. That’s what Elain had said almost a year ago when he approached her. I don’t want a mate…but I could use a friend. Lucien had jumped at the chance to spend time with her. After all, something was better than nothing, right?

Wrong, he realized practically a month later. Even without the mating bond, Lucien thought he would have been utterly obsessed with her. Who knew how lively Elain could be? Or funny? Smart, and sharp and witty…she was everything he could have hoped for and much, much more. Friends. The word tasted sharp and metallic in his mouth, like blood pouring down his throat, threatening to drown him. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her. I don’t want to be your friend! He thought even as he smiled and escorted her from this court or that. He had made her a promise, and Lucien thought it was better to have her however he could get her than to not have her at all. Still, sometimes when she looked at him with those soft, brown eyes, the edges creased with fondness, he could pretend she loved him too.

Because Lucien was in love with Elain. Stupidly, head over heels in love with the female in a way that both terrified andthrilled him. She was all he thought about, all he dreamt of. Her smile made his bones ache and her laugh threatened to consume him with burning, passionate fire. They were back in Velaris, their time together officially complete. Rhysand had nothing for the pair of them and so Elain was unpacking as she chattered animatedly with her sisters and Lucien lay down the hall, face down into a pillow. Tomorrow he’d continue on his own, leaving her behind and why shouldn’t he? They were friends. Friends didn’t need to spend every waking moment together.

He didn’t move even when Feyre knocked for dinner. He heard the door open a second time when the sun went down and smelled Elain even before he saw her.

“Tired?” She asked softly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Waiting for death to take me, he thought as he turned his head to face her. “A little.”

She brushed his hair out of his face with her fingers and Lucien tried to pretend the gesture had no effect on him.

“Tomorrow is going to be strange,” she murmured, her eyes meeting his. “You leaving…me staying. Who will make my tea in the morning?”

Lucien’s insides shriveled to dust. “I’m sure you could ask one of the servants.”

She nodded, her eyes becoming glassy with thought. “Yeah…it won’t be the same, thought.” Lucien could agree with that. Come with me! His mind screamed. Instead, he closed his eyes as she continued to stroke little pieces of hair off his face, the pads of her fingertips zapping electricity through his veins.

“Will you come to dinner with me, at least?” She asked gently. Lucien would rather eat his own hand than pretend everything was fine.

“I’m not hungry,” he told her petulantly. She withdrew her hand, biting her bottom lip.

“I knew it. You’re angry with me.”

Lucien pushed himself off his chest to sit on the bed. “What?” He asked dumbly.

“You’re angry. Why?” She asked, her chin trembling.

“I’m not angry,” he assured her, standing quickly. She looked up him with defiance.

“Then come to dinner with me.”

“No,” he replied, fear bubbling in his blood.

“Because you’re mad—”

“Fuck, Elain! The truth is I’m so damn in love with you that I don’t know what to do with myself!” He all but shouted, fisting his hands at his sides. Her mouth fell open, but Lucien couldn’t stop not that he’d started. “You want a friend and I want to be that for you, but I don’t wantto go downstairs and pretend I’m not gonna miss every single inch of you when I leave. We can go back to friendship in the morning but right now, I want to be alone.”

Her eyes were glassy again, her cheeks burning red, and he wondered if he’d taken things too far. He took a hesitant half-step towards her. “Elain, I’m—”

“Finally,” She breathed before launching herself into his arms, her mouth covering his before he could finish his apology. Lucien clutched her against his chest, groaning into her mouth with both suppressed need and his exuberance. Kissing, kissing, mate is kissing—

His mate was also quickly unbuttoning his pants, he thought, his tongue sweeping into her mouth.

“Took you forever,” she gasped against his lips, letting him pick her up, his hands bracing her ass like seat. “Started to think—ah, Lucien—you didn’t like me at all.”

He nipped down her neck, her legs wrapped around his waist, dress bunched up to expose her underwear to his aching, now freed cock. The position was awkward; his pants tangled around his legs, his shirt covered his chest and yet Lucien could not be bothered to fix any of it. Now,the mating instinct screamed. Have her now.

Elain pulled the scrap of fabric between him and her to the side and Lucien slid in, hissing at the slickness already pooling between her thighs.

“How long?” He demanded, pressing her back against a wall. Elain squeezed her thighs around his body.

“Forever,” she replied, her eyes closed. “Since Winter at least.”

God, he thought, his eyes rolling in his head. That had been nearly seven months ago. He’d loved her just as long. The knowledge that he could have had her as he was taking her then, up against a wall because he couldn’t stand being parted for the few seconds it would take him to walk back to the bed, was enough to drive him to madness. Lucien thrusted into her as Elain clawed at his hair, tangling her fingers in what was left of his ponytail.

“Should have told me,” Lucien grunted before kissing her with all the pent up, scorched heat he felt. Elain gave him as good as he got, her tongue already in his mouth establishing her dominance. She could have him however she liked.

“Didn’t want to mess everything up,” she gasped, her breath sweet against his face. Lucien’s arms ached from holding her and his cock throbbed, unable to fully bury himself within her.

Lucien snarled even as he pulled out, tossing her to the bed as he kicked himself out of his pants. Elain was fumbling with the buttons of her dress, as though he cared about that. Lucien spread her legs as wide as he could, growling softly with approval at the gleaming wet he found looking back between bright pink lips.

She began to pull the dress up over her head, her hips shimmying as though she meant to escape him. It felt like running and Lucien couldn’t help the way he reached for her, dragging her pussy to his face and burying himself in it before she got away. Mine, you are mine—

Elain squealed, still trying to free herself from the fabric. Lucien had no inclination to help, licking her with desperation. She tasted good,better than he’d imagined, somehow musky and sweet.

“Lucien,” she gasped when his tongue swiped over her clit. She ground against his face like she knew what she was doing, drawing her knees up and pinning him in place. She reached for his hair and pushed, demanding he stay where he was. Lucien’s hips bucked involuntarily, rubbing against the soft fabric of the bed to alleviate some of his arousal.

“Lucien,” she gasped again, her thighs quivering. He withdrew his mouth with a smirk and lifted her legs in the air, holding them against his chest. He rubbed the crown of his cock against her dripping cunt before pulling off his tunic and shirt.

“Close?” He asked, arching a brow. She whined, trying to pull him in. Lucien took himself in his hand and rubbed deliberately, using her own slickness and the head of his penis to rub slow circles around her quivering, swollen clit. She arched her back with trembling breath.

“Yes,” she gasped and Gods how he wanted to watch her fall apart like this.

“Do you want to come?” He asked. She nodded her head, biting her bottom lip. Up, up, up, she keened only for Lucien to withdraw his cock and sheathe himself inside her. He replaced the tip against her clit with his thumb, fucking and he rubbed. She was breathy, eyes open and locked on his face and so damn loud.

There was no mistaking what was happening in his room. He was sure the whole house could hear them, not that Elain seemed to care. Close, he could tell she was close giving how she was rhythmically clenching around him and how she panted through her pretty red lips.

“Lucien,” she whispered, a warning. He wanted it, wanted to knowwhat she felt like when she was lost to ecstasy. He pumped, her wet heat killing him with each stroke. Nothing had ever felt half as good in his life and he didn’t believe anything ever would, again.

She came with a scream, her cunt sucking him deeper, leaving him no breathing room, just his cock and the walls of her pussy he felt stretched over him. She yanked on his arms, pulling him down to kiss her as he continued to thrust, overwhelmed with the sensations. So much was happening; he could still taste her on his mouth, could feel nothing but how incredible it was to be inside her and yet the kissing only heightened that.

He was building, too. His muscles tightened and Lucien let himself go. She swallowed his cry as he pushed as far as he could go, trying to become two souls that shared the same flesh. She dug her nails into his ass, holding him there.

Lucien collapsed carefully, withdrawing himself so he wouldn’t crush her. “Fuck.”

She giggled, nuzzling her head into his chest as he yanked blankets up over their bodies. “That was nice.”

“I love you too, you know,” she whispered, kissing his shoulder.

Lucien smiled.

[random-imagines-blog]

Creeping in My Soul {Zacky Vengeance x Demon!Female!Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2230 Summary: You find out an interesting secret about your real identity. How is your boyfriend going to take it? Trigger Warnings: Swearing. Notes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!

You gave your boyfriend a wave and a kiss goodbye over Facetime, and hesitantly pressed the large red button. You always hated to let him go, but you knew that you had to. He was three hours ahead of you and it was nearly midnight where he was. One last show tomorrow, playing with the rest of his band - the rock group Avenged Sevenfold. Millions of fans world-wide and a sold out American tour. And then after the show, he would be getting on a plane and coming all the way back home to you, in sunny California. But there was one big problem with him coming back home to the house that you shared. It was that you have changed. No, you were still changing. And you didn’t know how he was going to react to seeing it.

It had started just a month ago when you were brushing out your hair. It was just like any other day really, you were getting ready for work, applying just a touch of make up, pulling the comb through your hair in an attempt to make it look less like you had just woken up. But it kept getting snagged on something. It kept bumping into something and it hurt a lot whenever it did. God, how you had panicked then, as you touched the top of your head and felt two protruding bumps. Did you have a tumor? Two tumors, growing out the top of your head? You instantly called your doctor, who wasn’t able to get you in for a couple of days. That didn’t ease your worrying. But the fact that they told you to go straight to the emergency room if you started feeling a headache coming on, any sort of dizziness, helped a touch. It was an option. And other than the bit of pain up there, surface and not internal, you were feeling fine. You tried to sweep your hair over the protrusions, but ended up putting on a headband instead, which pushed on them uncomfortably but at least it kept them out of sight.

The next day, you woke up to a sharp pain on your lip. You must have bit it in your sleep. That’s happened before, but this was a rather deep cut, given the fact that the taste of blood on your lips was rather potent. When you went into the bathroom to see if you could find it, you found that not only were the bumps on your head more tender, and that something - some sort of bone was poking out of it, but your teeth - they seemed sharper, especially the canines. You went to touch what was coming out of your head, and your nails nicked your skin. Your usually bitten down nails were long, and they were sharp. Like a stiletto shape you’d seen on instagram, ready to claw someone’s eyes out. And that was a very violent thought for the likes of you.

Everything in your mind was telling you to head for the hospital and now. To book some sort of surgery to get your head fixed. But you take a deep breath. You call into work, saying that you can’t come in, you’re taking a sick day, and then you take a ride over to your parents house. At least that way, if you did go to the hospital, you wouldn’t have to be alone. You were terrified to  be alone, but you couldn’t bring yourself to call your boyfriend and make him worried. It would only end up with him coming to you, throwing off the tour, disappointing so many people, just to sit at a bedside and hope for the best.

Your parents were a lot less concerned than you thought that they would be. Your father looked over your head, prodded at the tender skin. You hissed at the pain, and you wanted to lash out, strike him for doing that, but a stern look that he gave you made you calm down. It was like he had known your thoughts. Then he sat down, beside your mother, reminding you of the way that they used to talk to you when they had bad news. And you thought you had been the one going to them with the bad news.

But you were getting more than a ‘Our dog went off to a farm to frolick in the fields’ sort of talk.

“Okay, ha ha, I’m a demon child, great time for jokes mom,” You said, crossing your arms in front of you. “Is this some sort of genetic disease that I’m not aware of?”

But they were serious. They were avoiding your eye, but it wasn’t because they were trying to withhold the truth. They were ashamed of the truth. “We should have told you a long time ago... but we’re not your real parents, my love. We were unable to have children, and there you were - a gift. Demons .... they aren’t as bad as people make them out to be. You could never be bad.”

And they continued to talk to you about it throughout the day and the night, convincing you to cancel the Doctor’s appointment because it was risky to have people find out. The sharper teeth and the longer nails could just be an aesthetic choice but the horns - you’d have to learn how to keep them hidden from the public. Hats would cover it somewhat, or you could learn glamour magic, something that had been helping demons on earth for millenia. It would take a lot of practice in a mirror, but it was something that you were just going to have to do in order to keep on living your life. To keep your job. To keep your friends. And most importantly - to keep Zacky.

-

You had everything set for his return home. It was a  late night flight, and he wasn’t getting in until five in the morning, but you had made breakfast for him. French toast was being kept warm in the oven, coffee was being made, you had squeezed some orange juice - you wanted everything to be perfect. Most of the windows had the blinds and the curtains closed, making it a little dark but you had lit some candles to try to set a mood. The sunlight had been bothering you more than usual lately. Despite the California heat, you had been having to wear Zacky’s old hoodies out to go about your day. But at least for now, the sun was still down, and you were able to wear one of your favorite dresses. Which also happened to be his favorite dress.

The front door unlocked, and you heard the rustle and bustle of bags being set down. And then the door closed. A loud yawn as Zacky stepped into the kitchen, probably smelling the coffee. “Ugh, I can never sleep on planes,” He groaned, stumbling in. His eyes looked red and itchy, he must be utterly exhausted.

“Then you had better drink some orange juice instead of the coffee, then we can go to bed right after you finish eating,” You said, putting a glass in front of him. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” The first thing that he did was come up to you, and wrap his arms around you in a tired hug. You hugged him back, smelling his aftershave on his neck. Fuck, he smelt so good. You almost started to salivate. Just feeling his body against yours, chest against chest - you had to bite down on your lip to hold in a moan. Your sex drive had been insane lately, another thing that your ‘parents’ had warned you about. He pulled away from you, making you feel just a touch of anger, but it faded quickly. “Why are you wearing a hat inside?” He asked, noticing your beanie.

“Uhh - bad hair day,” You said, quickly. “Don’t worry about what I look like, let’s just eat something.” You gave him a big smooch on the side of his cheek, then hurried to get the food out of the oven. Zacky sat down, dropping the topic since he was so tired, while you put everything in front of him. All the fixings. Syrup, butter, berries, sliced banana, whipped cream, chocolate shavings. You went all in for this welcome home breakfast, figuring that he hadn’t had anything real in weeks. You knew how these boys were. They go on tour, eat nothing but fast food, end up working it all off during one show from all of their running and jumping around. But no doubt the girlfriends were all going to be taking care of them now that they were home. “Eat up, buttercup.”

And he did, fast at first, and then slowed down towards the end as he started to feel full, but his eyes kept looking at you, flattering you. You could feel blood flow to your cheeks, and to other places as you started to clean up, putting dishes into the sink for later tonight. You were ready to sleep the whole darn day away, especially now that you had Zacky back in your bed. You could feel his eyes on the spot of your thighs where the dress ended, where it was dancing around.

“There’s something different about you,” He said, putting down his knife and fork. You took his plate, raising an eyebrow. How could he tell? You adjusted the hat around your head, trying to make sure that the horns weren’t popping out. “What did you do, get a bad hair cut or something? Come on, take the hat off.”

He beckoned you over and you felt like you didn’t have much of a choice. You walked back towards him and he pulled you between the legs of the chair that he was sitting on. It was a rather high bar-stool type chair on the island so you two were identical height right then and there. He took the beanie off of your head and looked over your hair, his eyes going straight to the horns. “What the fuck are those?”

“I - I can explain,” You said, taking the hat back, fidding with the fabric. And so you did, only going through some of the major details because though he was interested, and shocked, Zacky looked too tired to really comprehend what was going on.

“Fuck,” He said, getting to his feet once you were done. “That’s - a lot.”

“Yeah, how do you think I felt?” You shot back, crossing your arms in front of you. You were waiting for the worst to happen. For him to freak out, to leave, or to even throw you out. You wouldn’t blame him for having any of those reactions honestly. You already had a bag packed in the front closet just in case of that very scenerio.

“Come on, let’s go to bed,” He said, putting his arm around your shoulders, and started to lead you into the bedroom. Your smile could not have gotten any bigger. Leave it to your man to accept you just the way that you were. Demon or not.

-

And he did more than accept you. You two spent a straight up week getting re-acquainted. Or more so, he was finding out more about the demon that you were once you had accepted yourself. Your horns had come in. The skin __around was still tender, but oh the spine-tingling feeling that you got when you let him Zacky rub them. It was such a deeply personal and intimate thing. You wouldn’t ever let anyone else touch your horns. Not for as long as you lived.

Although the whole demon thing had messed with your temper - things like Zacky leaving you to get food or to go to the bathroom had you furious for a couple of seconds - it also amped up your sex drive. He seemed particularly accepting of that bit. When you rode him, both of you sitting up, you on top of him, lifting your lips and driving down, your hands had gone to his back and you had riddled him with little scratches from your nails. He never even minded that. Just hissed with pleasure. It seemed like you were having an effect on him in return. He wanted you all the time.

“I fucking love you,” You said after another rigorous session of love making.

“I fucking love you,” He said in return, still holding you tightly, keeping you in place as he softened inside of you. “How are you a demon when you’re so angelic?”

“I wouldn’t say there’s anything angelic about me after what we just did,” You laughed, rolling off of him. He laughed as well, but pressed kisses to your cheeks, giving you affection even when he wasn’t touching you. No matter what was ahead of you - Hell? - you were more than happy now, and would be as long as you continued to be with the love of your life. Though from the looks of things, he might have a little devil in him too. Definitely a lustful sin behind those eyes.

[thewickedkings]

Between the Two of Us ~ Chapter 4

Masterlist || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Summary: Jurdan High school AU. Rivals Jude and Cardan are forced to partner up  for a history project, and drama ensues. Filled with banter, pranks, an unhealthy amount of pining, and Jude being clueless as usual.

Trigger Warnings: I don’t think there’s anything so far, but please let me know if there’s anything I missed!

It was Thursday morning, and Jude’s nerves thrummed with anticipation. She leaned against a pillar in the school hallway, slowly sipping her coffee. Students milled about, grabbing their books before first period, and Jude stood still, waiting.

Any minute now.

Her eyes caught a head of dark curls in the crowd, and she smiled. Cardan walked obliviously towards their first period class, maneuvering swiftly through the clusters of lingering students.

And then came Amanda Williams from the other end of the hallway, striding purposefully towards Cardan. Amanda Williams was perhaps the most ambitious student in the school, involved in almost every single club in the school and volunteering in all her free time. Jude both admired her and feared her.

Amanda approached Cardan, and Jude watched the scene play out from afar. It made it exceedingly funnier that she couldn’t actually hear what they were saying but had to go off Cardan’s confused, awkward smile and Emily’s enthusiastic hand gestures.

She nearly snorted her coffee when Cardan started backing away, his hands held up in confusion, while Emily followed him unrelentingly.

The bell rang, and Cardan took the opportunity to bolt. He turned around, heading in her direction, but Jude slipped into the crowd before he could spot her.

By the time Jude got to her fifth period class, Jude’s spirits were exceptionally high. She took out her fancy colored pens out from her pencil case cheerfully while she waited for class to begin.

Her careful organization was interrupted when Cardan barged in, storming towards her desk.

“Duarte, you are going to pay for this,” he seethed. He slammed a Save the Turtles flyer on her desk.

“For what?” she responded innocently, rearranging her pens on her desk noncommittally. She looked down at the flyer. “Awww, this turtle’s so adorable. I didn’t know you cared about endangered species. Maybe you do have a heart somewhere in there.”

His palms flattened on her desk as he towered over her. “Jude, I do not have the time to convince thirty people that no, I did not start a club to save the sea turtles, and no, I didn’t know who put up flyers with my name and email on it all over the school saying I did.” He paused, eyes narrowing. “Except wait, I did know.”

It took everything she had not to laugh in his face. She silently thanked the girls she had overheard at lunch a few days ago having a passionate conversation about saving the turtles and metal straws. Still seething from the coffee incident, a plan had begun to form in Jude’s mind. After 10 minutes designing a flyer with a cute little sea turtle and a trip to the school printer, Jude’s plan was in place.

She kept her expression completely serious. “That must have been so hard for you. People can be so annoying sometimes. Just last week, some guy knocked over my coffee, and he didn’t even apologize. Can you imagine?” She bit her lip to stop her smile.

Cardan’s dark eyes flashed. “Jude, I swear I’m going to-”

“Mr. Greenbriar, it seems you’re in the wrong class,” the teacher interrupted.

Jude chirped in. “Sorry. He was just telling me about the club he was starting to save the sea turtles. He’s very passionate about it.”

The lethal glare Cardan sent her way promised vengeance, and she felt a tingle make its way up her spine.

He swallowed, unclenching his fists. When he turned back to the teacher, his expression cleared. “Sorry. Just clarifying something. I’ll leave right now.”

He walked over to the door and shut it carefully behind him, as if resisting the urge to slam it.

Jude leaned back in her chair, satisfaction thrumming through her. Pissing off Cardan just so, so fun.

 ~~~

Jude’s breath came out in pants as she sat on the bench and drank from her water bottle. The soccer game was tied with five minutes to go, and it was taking everything Jude’s team had to keep it that way. Tisdale High was much more formidable than Jude had expected, and Jude’s team was barely managing to stop all their goals, much less make any of their own. 

The referee blew the whistle, and Jude wiped her brow and went back into the game with a renewed vigor. She wasn’t going to settle for a tie, not yet at least.

Jude had started soccer in her freshman year so she could have an extracurricular on her resume and to have some sort of stress-relief, but she’d come to love the adrenaline that came with the sport.

The clock ticked as a girl with neon orange cleats stole the ball from their team again. When the girl made to pass the ball across the field, Jude anticipated her move and shot forward, blocking the ball before it could reach her teammate.

With the ball back in their possession, Jude dribbled up the field, working the ball around the defense. Out of the corner of her eye, Jude saw Nicasia standing to the left of the goal, the perfect angle to make a goal.

Jude hesitated. Just last week, Nicasia had chosen to take a shot for a near-impossible goal instead of passing to Jude, who had been in a clear spot to make the point. They had ended up winning after Jude had scored a goal in the last half, but Jude was angry that Nicasia had brought their antagonism to the field. She’d thought they’d gotten over their differences, but apparently they hadn’t.

All this passed through Jude’s head in a split second. The defense player she had tripped out was gaining on her, and Jude had to make a decision.

In a move they’d trained hundreds of times in practice, Jude faked right and then passed to Nicasia. Nicasia shot the ball straight into the net, and the crowd broke into cheers. Apparently, there was little Jude wouldn’t do if it meant winning.

As the team swarmed her, Jude walked the other way to the side of the field. Just because she had let Nicasia make the goal didn’t mean she would be happy about it.

She flopped onto the grass, letting the adrenaline of the game fade. She looked up at the soft crunch of grass next to her.

“Hey, that was a good game you played. Your pass basically saved the game,” said Locke, sitting down next to her.

“Thanks,” Jude replied, shrugging. His arm grazed hers, and Jude remembered what the Bomb had said, and wondered if her words could be true, if Locke could actually be interested in her.

She suddenly felt self-conscious about the sweat on her body and hoped she didn’t smell too bad. “Do you come to watch our games a lot?”

“I come every once in a while. But I’ve started to come a lot more recently,” he said, giving her a meaningful look.

“Oh.” Jude flushed. Ok, so maybe he was interested in her.

Locke ran his hand through his hair. “Ok, so the real reason I came today was because I was wondering if you would maybe want to get dinner with me tomorrow? Like a… date?”

“Really?” Jude said, before quickly adding, “I mean, yeah, sure!”

Locke grinned at her, and Jude’s mood immediately rose. It was definitely nice to have a guy’s attention, to feel wanted.

After they exchanged numbers, Jude walked over to the bleachers where Vivi and Oak sat. Oak was waiting at the bottom for her.

“Jude, that pass was so good! You stole the ball and then faked to the right, and then…” he chattered excitedly, mimicking her performance with a practice soccer ball.

She felt a rush of affection for him and ruffled his hair. “Thanks, Oakey.” Even though they weren’t related through blood, Jude loved him more than anything.

She spotted Vivi on her phone at the top of the bleachers but stopped when she saw who was sitting in the second row.

“Nice pass,” Cardan said wryly, leaning back and stretching his legs. “No goals today?”

Jude’s eyes narrowed. All of the anger he had shown on Thursday was mysteriously absent from his eyes, meaning he had something planned.

She ignored his comment and asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I can’t show some school spirit?”

“No.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Ok, ok, there’s something I have to talk to you about.”

“Yeah, no thanks.” She didn’t have the patience for Cardan’s antics right now. She was in actually in a good mood after Locke had asked her out and wanted it to last.

She moved to maneuver around him, but he snagged her wrist. “Wait.”

She paused at the touch, the warmth of his skin seeping into hers.

When he noticed her gaze on his hand, he dropped her hand as quickly as he had grabbed it. “I need your number for the project.”

She looked at him suspiciously, wondering if this was for one of his schemes.

“Jude, we have assignments due. How else are we supposed to communicate?”

“Fine. Give me your phone.”

He pulled it out of his pocket and stood up, and suddenly they were standing too close, only mere inches separating them. She shuffled backwards, forgetting they were on bleachers, and the back of her thighs hit the row behind her. She stumbled, her hand flying out instinctively and grabbing Cardan’s arm for balance.

She quickly pulled her hand away, but not before she felt the muscle beneath her palm. Her body suddenly became hyperaware of his physicality, making her cheeks burn.

“If you wanted to touch me, you don’t have to pretend to fall over.” He looked down at her, eyes sparking playfully. His voice was low, just for her, and she swallowed and stepped back farther.

“I didn’t pretend to fall over,” she shot back without thinking, unnecessarily flustered. This conversation was quickly veering out of her control.

He looked at her teasingly, as if he knew what effect he was having on her. “Right.”

“Just give me your phone.” She quickly typed her number in and gave it back to him. “There.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it, Jude?”

Something about the way he said her name grated on her nerves. Instead of responding to him, she lifted her middle finger at him from behind her back as she climbed past him on the bleachers, and Cardan laughed.

When she reached Vivi’s spot on the bleachers, Vivi gave her a curious look, but she just mumbled, “Let’s go home.”

As Oak chattered to Vivi on the car ride home, Jude slumped back into her seat, her feet sore after a long day at school and a grueling game. Her mind wandered aimlessly, and Jude found her thoughts repeatedly flitting back to a certain boy, and it wasn’t the one who had asked her out.

A/N: I hope you guys like the chapter!! We love to see Jude and Cardan being ‘enemies’ and pissing each other off. This scene literally came to me at 4 am and I had to get up and write it.

I also mentioned the endangered sea turtles in this so if you’re interested in learning more, here’s a link to a post with more information about the struggles of green sea turtles and what you can do to help :)

Tagging: (Some tags didn’t work. I don’t know why, it might be your settings or just tumblr acting up, but I’ll tag you in the comments for now! If I forgot to tag  you our messed something up, just send me an ask and I’ll fix it as soon  as I can!)

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[pietropatrol]

Breaking the One Damn Rule (Part 11)

Read Part 10

A/N: Happy Fic Friday! Two weeks in a row! It’s also my birthday tomorrow and will hopefully be celebrating with a charcuterie/cheese board and wine!  

Sure, you’re 100% down with having Pietro Maximoff’s baby—you couldn’t imagine anyone else fathering your children. But neither of you planned for this, you’re not even supposed to be together according to the Avengers. Finding out while Pietro was away on a mission was bad enough and now telling him during an attack, with your future family in danger, was not what you had in mind; and this is exactly why they forbid Pietro from having serious relationships in the first place. Whoops.  

Pairing: Pietro x Reader

Warning: Kidnapping children, trauma, language

Words: 1,500ish

The skies had opened up over the city of New York City that early evening and never let up. An even bigger storm brewing behind the horizon of skyscrapers. Rain pelted against your window as a streak of lightning lit up your dim hospital room, followed by a sharp clap of thunder. Sharp enough to wake the dead.

Sharp enough to wake you from your comatose state.

Your eyelids felt like they had been glued together. When you opened them, they were out of focus and it took a moment for your eyes to adjust. Where were you? Where was Pietro?

Flowers covered every open counter space and a dozen of assorted baskets littered the floor. There was one that contained muffins and your stomach growled at the sight.

Your hand strayed down to your abdomen to rub your bump and it never reached one. Your stomach, though not as flat as it had been prior to pregnancy, was flat. All of a sudden it became hard to breathe and something was beeping in the distance.

What had happened? Where was Pietro? Where was your baby? When you tried to sit up it, a tube stopped you from ripping your blanket off.

You looked down at your hands to see an IV and a pulse oximeter. You were in the hospital? How long had you been here?

It didn’t matter, you had to get out. You had to get to Pietro and your baby. Your baby had to be with him, and safe, right? You ripped out the offending tubing, and swung your legs off the side of the bed, and pushed off.

The door to your room opened and your gaze met the familiar fatherly face of one Clint Barton.

“Y/N!” Clint dropped the cup of coffee in his hand and rushed over as you began to teeter. “You’re awake!”

“Where’s my baby?” Your voice was low and shaking, you could barely hear yourself. As if you were already afraid that you knew the answer.

“Please lay back down, Y/N. You’re looking a bit pale.” Clint tried to guide you back to the bed.

You jerked your arms away, leaving a smear of blood on Clint’s arm.  “No! Tell me, Clint.”

“Only if you get back in bed.” Clint saw the manic look in your eyes and was afraid that if he said anything you would fall apart before him.

You lowered yourself onto the edge of your bed. Your baby had to be with Pietro. That could be the only possibility.

Clint gently pushed your back into the bed, covering you back up with the blanket. He swung a chair next to your bed and took a deep breath. “Y/N, what’s the last thing you remember?”

Your memory was murky and you tried to grasp onto any piece of memory. “Hydra attacking the restaurant. I fired Tony’s repulsor hoping to cause enough of a distraction.”

“Y/N,” Clint took your hand, “You’ve been comatose for almost a month.”

“A month?” you echoed back, “I’ve missed that much time? How’s Pietro handling being a dad on his own?”

Clint took a deep breath. He did not want to be the one to tell you, but Pietro and Wanda were across the world if he had to guess, which left him as the next person in line to tell you. “Y/N, we found you… alone. Hydra left you to die, Pietro found you just in time.”

“By alone you mean…”  Your voice caught in your throat.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Pietro and Wanda are out looking for them right now. As soon as you stabilized, they started following any lead they could. Last we heard they were in Nepal. I will have Nat send out a message that you woke up.” Clint squeezed your hand. “I can’t even imagine what your feeling right now, but we’re all here for you and they’re going to find them. Pietro and Wanda are strong on their own as is, but together and out for vengeance, they are unstoppable. When we first met them, when they were under Hydra, they gave us a run for our money. They also took Vision with them.”

“When you say looking for them—”

“It was twins, we don’t know how to explain it. Wanda saw it in your head.”

You swallowed the tightness in your throat. “I’ll take your word for it.” The hollow chuckle that bubbled out of you terrified Clint. “Clint?”

“Yes?”

“I want you and Nat to train me. I’m not going to sit idly by.”

Clint saw the spark of anger in your eyes and the determination set in your jaws. He wasn’t sure how to react. He could handle crying, but this was rage brewing. Much like your other half, he assumed you were a force to reckoned with when provoked. “You need to heal before anything.”

That would buy him some time. Pietro should be able to get back to you before then. Clint wouldn’t dare do anything to piss Pietro off and letting you hurt yourself would definitely do it.

“Heal?” You questioned.

Clint gave you a perplexed look. “Y/N, you were cut open.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.” You didn’t feel any pain.

“Maybe it’s the shock?”

You pressed your lower abdomen. “I had my appendix taken out in college, and that hurt. Now… now I feel nothing.”

“Um, I’m going to get your nurse.” Clint shot off the chair and out the door.

****

The moment Pietro received word you had woken up he made plans to get back to you. Wanda wanted to come too, but Pietro wanted her to keep looking for the twins. They were in deep, trying to find Hydra hideouts and it had taken almost three weeks for Pietro to get Nat’s message.

He practically ran back to you, save for the ocean he had to get over. He took one flight and started running as soon he got out of the terminal.

Pietro had prepared to see you broken and inconsolable. Steve was waiting by the elevator as Pietro arrived. “Cap?”

“Welcome back, anything?”

“Nope, look I’d love to chat, but I need to get to Y/N.” Pietro turned to walk down the hallway to your room, but Steve stopped him.

“She’s not in her room. Come with me.” Steve lead Pietro back to the elevator and to the 15th floor.

“Why is she on the training floor?” Pietro’s jaw tightened. He thought he had left you in good hands. “She should be resting.”

“You can bring that up with her. We tried.” Steve pulled him over to one of the simulation mazes.

Pietro looked at the tracking monitors to see you suited up, working your way through the maze with Clint and Nat. “Are you fucking crazy?! Get her out of there!”

“This isn’t her first go.” Steve motioned to the hologram with your stats. Not as good as Clint and Nat’s, obviously, but you had excellent marksmanship and your hand to hand combat was ranked above Tony’s out of the suit. “You’re free to end the simulation—”

Pietro slammed his hand on the stop button and glared at Steve. “I am not happy about this.”

“Clearly.” Steve grimaced.

The lights went on in the simulation maze. Making it hard to see, you had been doing a night test. “Steve, what the fu—”

“Draga!” That voice made your heart skip a beat. You didn’t even see him coming. In a split second, you were in his arms being squeezed tightly. Your face nestled into his chest.

“Piet.” You melted into him, having to bury your tears deeper and deeper. Now was not the time.

“You should be resting,” he softly growled in your ear.

“I missed you too,” you whispered back.

Pietro let go after a lingering kiss to your temple as he breathed you in again. “Seriously, explain. Clint, I put you in charge of her care, and I come home to find she’s been simulating?”

“Pietro, don’t be mad. I begged.” You finally got a good look at him. He was rougher around the edges and he had grown a slight beard. If it hadn’t been caused by your current circumstances, you would have dwelled longer on how ruggedly handsome he looked.

“Oh, that makes it so much better.” Pietro gave you a look. “You need to be taking it easy.”

“I’m fully healed and I’m not going to get hurt,” you countered.

“The last time I saw you, you were on death’s doorstep. It can happen again. It will happen again if you try to get involved with this.” The pain was evident in Pietro’s eyes. He had spent so much time trying to block out the image of you basically lifeless. It would haunt him forever.

“Seriously, I can’t get hurt.” You pulled out a small dagger from your thigh holster and ran it across your palm before Pietro could figure out what you were doing.

“Draga!” He made to grab your wrist, but you turned away. Crimson pooled in your cupped hand for a moment and you wiped it away on your pant leg to reveal no wound.

Pietro grabbed your hand to examine it closely. “What the hell?”

****

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[boogiewrites]

Reports & Repertoire 18: Sex and Set backs.

Characters: Eddie Brock x Venom x Candace Miller (OFC)

Summary:   With Eddie weighed down with worry, he's not much for getting it up, so Venom steps in to ease a tense Candy's stress. Candy's best-laid plans play out.

Warnings/Tags: Candy x Venom sexual content. Talks of defeat, revenge. 

Click on my icon then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters.

Eddie hadn’t been sleeping particularly well and it was time for Venom’s weekly feeding, a combination that led them both to be more difficult to deal with. Without Candy they went out someplace new and snatched up a mugger. Just another Friday night. They return to Candy’s through the upstairs window left open on this particular night every week so escape was seamless.

Venom was feeling very full and satisfied afterward, alive and awake. The total opposite of Eddie. They shut the window behind them as they spilled into the dark room to see Candy in bed. Eddie is relieved at the mere sight of her safe and resting, posed under the thick comforter. Venom rustles inside him at the sight. Blood pumps fast through them, both theirs and the latest victims.

“Let’s have her Eddie.” Venom hisses hungrily in his tired mind. “She is relaxed and she tastes so good when she’s like this. Bet she tastes like strawberries.”

While stripping off his clothes sloppily and stumbling all the way, with none of the grace he held while Venom was in control, Eddie groans. “Yeah, she’s hit the daiquiris hard lately. But I’m too tired, man. We’re sleepin'.”

“You may sleep. I can be awake for… lots of things.” Eddie feels a prickling up his spine that he wishes he could react to, but his spirit just wasn’t as willing as his symbiotic counterpart was.

“Yeah, sure, whatever dude. Go for it.“ he dismisses him with a yawn and crawls into bed to a mewling woman. He hadn't thought Candy would go for it, but a horny alien wasn't something he had the energy to barter with right now. He didn’t even notice she was wearing lingerie when he pulled back the covers. He was already out as she stirred to kiss his cheek.

With a frown, she sighs, running her fingers through his hair. It was hard to be mad at him when he looked like that. He’d been so sweet and protective lately, but not in an overbearing way. She expected him to come home a ball of energy as he usually did after Venom fed. But she was left with a sleepy puppy who wasn’t any use to her needs tonight.

“Night Eddie baby.” she gives him another kiss before rolling over to her side of the bed. “Goodnight Venom” she calls out sweetly.

“You are not sleepy.” he responds.

She turns her head to see him looming over her. “Well, not exactly no.” she shrugs.

“You are... disappointed. And… aroused.” his second accusation is growled out and she narrows her eyes at him as he leans in closer. “I can smell you, Candy.”

“Yeah I…” she takes a breath to see Venom and his silky skin just like her nightie rippling at her confession. “...wanted to have sex with you tonight. I needed some stress relief and some, closeness, y’know but…” she motions her head to Eddie’s softly snoring face mushed into a pillow.

“He is tired. But I am not.” he grins and rubs against her cheek as affectionate as a cat in his mannerisms.

“Well I kinda... need him don’t I?” she huffs out an almost nervous laugh, getting ready to roll over, call it a loss and try again tomorrow.

“Do we?” he suggests, the tone and question caught her attention. “We are close Candy. As close as you and Eddie. We are three. We are all one now. A team. Why can we not play without Eddie when you and Eddie play without Venom.” there was no hurt in his voice but something peculiar to it.

“I…” she looks over at the sleeping man, oblivious. “I don’t know? I’ve never talked about it with Eddie.” It was almost an excuse but it was also the truth. She didn’t want to cross any lines she couldn’t step back over later with Eddie.

“I have.” Venom bows.

“You have? Really?” she pauses and looks around the room in thought. The information came as a surprise. But perhaps it shouldn’t? “What did he say?” Her voice is quiet and Venom can feel the curiosity in it.

“He said he didn’t care.” A tendril flips out casually in its explanation.

"Really?” she challenges over with uncertainty clear on her face.

“Yes.” he nods again.

“I mean... I was looking forward to it all day, I’ve been… annoyed and horny and thought he might wanna get close and fool around before we went to sleep.”

“I can do those things.”

“Well, I was going to include you.” she grins sheepishly, making him hum contentedly.

“Then let me take care of you. We have been growing closer Candy. You and I. Venom and Candy. Yes? With the murders. The vengeance and the blood. I can hear your heart race, feel your body vibrate with excitement. I know what it does to you. It does not do this to Eddie. We understand one another.”

“I get killing for survival, killing one to save many, yeah.”

“Yes, and I want to… reward you for it. It is so nice to have a human understand.”

“Reward me?”

“Give you what you want tonight. I’ve wanted some one on one time with you, but the occasion has never presented itself in such a way.”

“By one on one you mean-“

“Let us fuck, Candy, our sweet. Our babe, our love, our-.”

“You’re being very sweet Venom... but Eddie.”

“I told him I could handle your needs alone. He did not care.”

“You aren’t lying are you Venom?”

“Lying is what bad people do. And we are not bad.”

“No, you are not.” She shakes her head and believes him. And technically, he wasn’t lying. “I don’t wanna wake up the poor baby if he’s that tired.” After a pause, and a small snore from Eddie she continues.”How do you want to… do this?”

“Quietly.”

She smiles at his answer. “Yes, and without much movement.”

“Agreed. Which is easily achieved with me.” A certain pride comes from his animated face.

“That’s true, you slippery thing.” She coos affectionately.

“Then let me explore you, our beautiful girl. Let us make you cum.”

The words in his deep tone that sounded like Eddies but with a wild distortion and bass makes her blush at the words. She agrees and lays back, watching him slither up and caress her face.

“You are nervous. Why?”

“We’ve never done this. Just you and I. It’s like our first time or something.” She gives him a more reassuring smile.

“And I will rock your world.” He promises with a lick of her cheek. She forgives the dated terminology immediately and feels the soft warm silk and slip of him against her skin.

He slinks beneath her nightie with no trouble, warm and almost wet as he moves across her like vines. A circling and sucking of her nipples first, a heavy caress of her thighs before parting her legs himself. Reassuring strokes to her skin when he felt her heart speed up, feeling the tension growing between her legs and waiting for his moment. Without Eddie's thoughts, without any orders or suggestions, he’s free to do as he pleases. He uses her as a playground and explores almost every bit of her. He covers her almost entirely, becoming in tune with her on a more intimate level. He knew her pulse, her Ph, her ticklish spots and the way her breath escaped her lips in a sweet puff that smelled of a fruity cocktail she’d had before bed.

He begins the part he’d craved, to be solely responsible for a woman’s orgasm. Eddie took such pride in it that Venom wanted it for his own. He could make Eddie cum, he could make Eddie squeal like a pig if he wanted, but a woman was different, more Complicated and his complex brain was wanting the challenge. Tendrils encase her, pressure and strokes, lapping at her clit first, teasing around her opening as she grew wetter for it. He sucked and flicked, pinched and circled all the while waiting to hear those moans that got Eddie, and thus him, so hard.

She holds it in with shakey breaths at first. A bitten lip and eyes squeezed shut to cope but eventually one does escape As her toes curl, her hips buck, he's there to catch it. He covers her mouth and allows her to breathe through her nose and still make all the sound she wanted.

“See? Quiet. Only I can hear you now Candy. Let me feel all those sounds of pleasure. I want to know what I’m doing to you.”

She nods, not left with any choice really but to give in, and it was glorious.

He could feel her swollen insides, pushing on the outside to the underlying pleasurable pieces of her clit, a pressure to her lower stomach as he enters her, each stroke growing in girth until she whines at the stretch.

“You can take so much, Candy. So much more than Eddie. You can take me. I can touch you in ways he never could. We love Eddie, don’t we Candy? But he cannot do this.” And with the taunt he swells to push her insides, hooking over her pelvic bone and surrounding her cervix she lets out a wanton moan she’d never released before. She felt so impossibly full. Every inch of her full and throbbing with him. He pulsed like a vein inside her, a tendril rubbing away at her clit and within a few beats, she was gone.

He encased her shaking body, extensions between her fingers to hold her fisted hand and keep her from waking his host. A rush of cum from her from the pressure is whisked away by him and savored. Something he’d never tasted before and hoped to taste again. Eddie would like this, he thought. Eddie would like to see Candy enjoying herself like this. Venom was already planning how to play with her while Eddie watched.

“There, there.” He whispers, resting her back in the bed and brushing her hair back. “That was perfect our sweet.” He states softly in her ear as he unravels around her and leaving her mouth last so she didn’t make too much noise.

“That was perfect.” She agrees and smiles out a quiet dopey laugh. Giddy on the high of her first full-body, squirting orgasm. “I… I needed that. Thank you. Thanks for… talking me into it.”

“We can do it again soon.” A smile of his rows of sharp teeth didn’t frighten her anymore. The moonlight hit them like pearls and his veins shined like Opal. He was a beautiful thing, truly.

“Yes, we can.” She strokes his cheek as he nuzzles back. “Do you mind if I sleep now? You kinda… wore me out.”

“You get sleepy after orgasms.” He states it as the observational fact that it is.

“I do.” She admits.

“Sleep then Candy. I will see to Eddie. We will be with you tomorrow.”

“Night sweetheart.” She sighs out as he pulls the covers up over her shoulder.

And Eddie was none the wiser.

——————

Despite what Candy considered the most dangerous bits of her plan being over, it was never far from her mind. Having the two boys in her life made things easier most of the time, others not so much. Like when she would get lost in thought and someone was there to snap her out of it. She didn’t want to lie but she didn’t want to worry them when they asked what was wrong. Like now. She wished someone had told her that doing the right thing would be so hard.

She was at work, a place where she could usually find some distraction from her worries. She’d kept this case entirely separate and had done a good job. Or so she thought.

She’s handed her usual stack of mail and goes to open them, nothing out of the ordinary until she unfolds a very generic looking envelope.

“You have been warned. Stop now. Or face the consequences.”

No header, no signature or anything else on the blank page. For as vague as it was, it was perfectly clear what it was about. This was a sign she thought. They’re worried. She’s got something that could do some damage. But they would be looking to her to make the next move. So she had to be one step ahead.

Candy has everything lined up. The footage and proof all set and now given over to the small-time reporter looking to take on the big guys Candy couldn’t. The exchange was simple. Candy's name was left out, there was no footage or the sound of her voice on the videos, she could now sit back and watch it all unfold. She had done it. She’d outsmarted them.

Except it didn’t happen.

There was nothing for a week. Candy became worried, reaching out to the girl and receiving nothing in response. She takes the chance to go to the brick and mortar of the small paper and she was there, but reluctant to talk. She spoke with her in a backroom and was clearly shaken.

Tells her she should forget it. She can’t say more. But she isn’t the woman to do it for her. Telling her the proof was gone. The things she printed were gone. Her laptop, phone, everything. Telling candy to be careful because who they were messing with was willing to use violence to keep the status quo.

And with that, Candy was left to feel defeated again, guilty for a new reason. These men weren’t fucking around. But neither was Candy. But what could she do to get back at people with infinite resources? Venom couldn’t eat them all. As much as he’d like to try I’m sure. She needed something new. Something they couldn’t touch.

——-

“I don’t know Candy. I think we should leave it.” Eddies rubbed the back of his neck defensively.

“Really? They’re breaking the law, raping women and covering it up. Threatening people to keep quiet about it. It’s bad!”

“And YOU don’t have to be the one to expose it. I’m sorry babe, I really am but it’s not worth the risk. Venom and I… we can only keep you so safe.”

“We just need something they can’t deny! Something-“

“Something that’s going to draw too much attention to you. I need you to stop and think for a minute. You’re just one person. A major network won’t take this, won’t print it, won’t broadcast it or post it. There’s no way to get it out there without them knowing and it reaching enough people to make it known. It’s just not in our power. Maybe just do a piece on Roofies? No names or places or accusations?”

“They need to pay for what they did.” He sees her growing more tired, the hurt and sadness and fear catching up to her as she took a shakeup inhale.

“Comfort her.” Venom whispers and moves him towards her.

Eddie holds her and it only takes a moment for her to break. She starts to cry, and for so many reasons. Frustration, it all felt so unfair. The fear she felt that night, the need to help others and keep them from suffering the same fate or far worse. She was powerless against them no matter how much she fought, there was no winning this one.

“I’m so sorry Candy. I know how much this meant to you.” He didn’t know what else to say. And neither did Venom. He felt Eddie's pain, a dark cloud washing over them at being unable to fix it, unable to save those that needed to be saved. But even he and Venom have their limits.

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[ktheist]

twenty-two.

chapters:  21 / 22  / 23

knight!jungkook x princess!reader

x

“I want to form a special force of ghosts. They shall have no name, no existence except for protecting the royal family and I’ll oversee them directly,” you announce - it’s a bit out of the blue, you admit but as you flip through the ledger, it seems as though most of the kingdom’s income goes to maintaining the army. The Southern Kingdom is known for its daunting amount of soldiers. You’d lost to them because they were five times the size of your men yet it was too easy to drive your sword into the men’s guts - most of them were untrained.

Taehyung looks up at you from his position - he has his arms around your waist, nose and lips brushing against your lower abdomen. At least he’s not trying to sneak in kisses anymore after the physician left with a note of your health and advised you to remain in bed. And remain in bed you did. You sent Eunha to fetch the ledgers from your office so you could review them while resting.

“Why would you need some faceless troops? I can protect you. Our child.” Something in the way he addresses the life growing inside you makes your stomach churn uncomfortably. He shifts to lie on his back, head on your thigh so he could look at you while he speaks.

Sighing, you set the ledger to your side, not realizing your hand has dug itself in his hair. It’s become almost as natural as breathing from the many times he requested you to play with his hair when he saw you sitting up and leaning against the headboard. At first, you’d ignored him and continued to read but eventually you entertained his request - only to shut him up.

“I can protect myself and my child too when push comes to shove.” You’ve been polishing up on your fencing skills. Never will you allow a man - the same man lying in your lap - to stand over you at sword point again. “But I’m talking about a time when you and I won’t be here anymore. What happens if my great grandchild gets kidnapped? Or worse, killed. These ghosts I plan to train - they’ll be a shadow of the royal family. They won’t show their faces but they’ll be there. Watching. And if things go awry, they’ll do what they have to protect the throne and its heir.”

He hums in contemplation but you know it’s already decided. Your plan is set in motion as soon as you thought of it. The matter of the King’s approval is nothing but technicalities.

“Do as you wish my Queen.” He reaches over your hand that’s in his hair and brings it to his lips, kissing your fingerpads individually, “for it is my command.”

x

“We have the strongest army, no ruler would be foolish enough to go against. Secret task force? Preposterous!” One of the boisterous ministers slams a hand on the table while the other is fisted tightly in anger after you’d laid out your plan.

“We’d be a laughing stock if word gets out that the royal family doesn’t trust the army and resort for some faceless knights.” Another one states more calmly. He and the first one had been at each other’s throat with every meeting yet when it comes to shooting down the Queen, they have no problem with banding together and making peace.

“Your majesty,” Lord Park finally speaks up. If he notices your glare, it doesn’t show in his eased smile and amiable tone, “Marquis Hwan and Viscount Yoo are right. This is a matter of the royal army’s dignity, please consider her majesty’s proposal.”

“They are not knights,” resisting the urge to sigh, you correct them monotonously. “nor are they men - well, as far as any of you are concerned, they’ve been dead for a long time. You men do know what a ghost is, yes? Souls who could not move on from this world due to their thirst for vengeance. They shall serve the royal family and we shall aid them with whatever they need to execute their vengeance.”

The soured expression in ministers’ faces does not get past you but to have them be insulted enough to have their tongues tied is more than you can ask as you stand up from the throne. Your left hand takes hold of the handle of the sword that Taehyung’s been holding. He usually has it strapped around his waist but it would poke against his side if he sits so he’s chosen to hold it.

The metallic sound of the sword grazing against the edge of the steel sheath cuts through the air. Pushing down the reflex of placing your hand on your lower abdomen in a protective nature - it’ll only serve to enforce how woman you are in this room full of men. You let the sword dangle on your side, “seeing as the recruits undergo the same training before being chosen to serve in the army or as guards in the castle, I take it the head in charge of the training should be one of the best skilled here.”

“Lord Park,” the man’s facade falls at your clipped tone, “care to fence?”

His eyes reverts to the man behind you - his King but his King must have let him down because his shoulders sag. He walks down the aisle of with his fellow ministers next to him, expression hard.

“Your majesty, you’re with a child. To exert yourself so with fencing-” He tries one last time after grabbing hold of the sword a footman has presented for him.

“You should worry about yourself, my lord.”

The tip sword gleams with the sun rays pouring through the windows as you charge forward. He manages to block your attack with a fatal smirk before countering. The sound of metal clamoring against metal reverberates through the pin drop silent hall as you swing your sword. He’s got the advantage of strength on his side but you’re faster. Swifter. More precise.

You aim right for his heart, the tip barely grazing the luxurious material fitting for a lord whilst he freezes in his spot. It takes a moment for him to register his lost and drops the sword with an echoing clang. And another for the silence to break as Taehyung applauds. The ministers follow suit without a second’s delay though with somber faces.

“Brava, my Queen!” Taehyung shouts, a glimmer of excitement twinkling in his eyes - just like in the battlefield. Swords and violence has always had that effect on him. Just because the beast lays dormant without news of war does not mean it’s lost its claws.

You thank Lord Park for his ‘service’ as if this was nothing but a show, noting the way his eye twitches at the word and letting a smirk spread across your face as you walk past him and look at each individual minister in the eye before speaking, “I can pick any army man or guard at random and invite them for a duel and I can easily win. I won against the supposed head of security. Do you expect me to trust my life on these untrained men?”

The meeting adjourns without another protest from the ministers. You watch with an icy stare as they file out of the room, a few huddled together, whispering in secrecy. They couldn’t have waited to leave the palace grounds to plot their next move, could they?

“That was marvelous, darling.” Taehyung rises from next to you only to drop on his knee at your feet, palm raised to the ceiling. You cover his hand with yours and wordlessly study the manic glint in the man’s eyes before they flutter close and kisses your knuckles.

x

The flames dance over the torches on either side of the gates yet the cold night nips at your cheeks and your fingertips that you clutch together in a show of anxiousness. It’s no secret that the force will arrive this week as far as those who knew about them are concerned - you know they’ll be here tonight. Many things could go wrong.

Taehyung could have returned from rounding the outskirts. He’d left three days ago because news of bandits raiding the town had surged. They were mercenaries - hired by you through your ghost just so the King wouldn’t be here when the rest arrive.

It takes another fifteen minutes of you standing in front of the doors before the first cloaked figure steps through the door built within the gates. There are three of them - the other four would be here tomorrow of the day after.

“My Queen,” the tallest one falls to his knee whilst the other two remain standing - you heard they’re not too fond of serving monarchs of any kind. No matter, as long as they do what they’re here for, you could careless about formalities. As for respect, it can be earned.

The man pushes back his hood, revealing a tresses of dark brown that appears black with the lack of natural light. The familiar equally brown eyes glimmers with in the moon light as lips sweeter than honey greets you, “it’s been awhile.”

The tip of your nail grazes his cheekbone briefly before you trace the side of his face down to his chin, “welcome back, Jungkook.”

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Roguish Women Part 47

Summary: Kate is an American who fled to Paris to escape her past life. Now she's dancing and  playing the part of a courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. There she meets Tommy Shelby who thinks she can be useful in expanding his empire. But has he been blinded?

Part 47: The final bullet in the vendetta.

            Kate woke up to find the bed empty beside her. It was early, she’d been anxious to be on time. She knew Tommy wouldn’t wake her up in hopes that she would sleep through the planned event.

            But she was up and dressed before she usually was. The flat was just as empty as the bed. Kate slipped on her coat and went down the street to the distillery. Several of the men on watch tipped their cap her way.

            Finn was waiting for her at the top of the stairs. He looked conflicted when she approached. “Tommy said not to let you come.” He stood between her and the stairs.

            Kate narrowed her eyes at him. “Well, that’s not his choice to make, now, is it?”

            “The youngest Shelby didn’t look like he wanted to get caught up in the argument, but also didn’t want to catch flak from his brother. “It’d just be easier…”

            “We’re not living in easy times.” She interrupted. “I’ve heard Tommy’s side and I’ve made up my mind.” She concluded before pushing past Finn and making her way downstairs.

            Only Tommy was there, standing near a table with two chairs. He held a bottle of gin in his hand.

            “You never explained the label to me,” Kate spoke up to alert him of her presence.

            He turned although he didn’t seem too surprised that she had shown up. “What needs explaining?”

            She walked up to him and took the bottle from his hand. “Distilled for the eradication of seemingly incurable sadness.” She read off, having noticed it earlier when they were talking to Alfie.

            “Polly said that when you were in America, I nearly drank meself to death.” He answered calmly. “That and with the morphine, it was the only way I could tolerate being without you. I could sleep, I could ease myself of the guilt, and I could forget. But I’d much rather have you here.” He cradled her cheek in his hand. “So, go back home and wait for me.”

            “I’ll be right here. For the rest of your life, I’ll be here.” She kissed him softly, refusing to go anywhere.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Kate hadn’t seen Luca Changretta in years. His name had been haunting her for so long that she nearly forgot how long it’d been since they’d been face to face. He’d grown into a menacing figure, something she always knew he would be. The kind of fierce stature he was destined to become under the guidance of some of the most ruthless dons America had ever seen.

            Luca’s eyes landed on her as he stopped in front of her, Polly, Tommy, and Finn. But he didn’t speak to her. Instead, he beckoned one of his men to bring over a handful of documents, spread across the table.

            “I’ve had my lawyers draw up these. Documents for everything you own. And you’re gonna sign them all over to my family. Or you’re gonna die.” Standing in front of Tommy, Luca looked back to Kate. “I would’ve buried your whole family. Y’know, my mother knows you.” Luca said steadily. “She told me how to hurt you. How to really make you suffer. ‘Take everything from him, then make him watch Kathleen Lynch die.”

            Tommy didn’t flinch. He simply maintained eye contact with the man. Kate didn’t budge either.

            “Because she’s worse than you are, in some ways.” Luca continued. “She murdered two people who were loyal to me and my family. Killed them in cold blood for no reason. You and I, we kill to gain something, don’t we? But her? She just doesn’t care, does she? I’ve got the Leoni family asking me to right her wrongs. Take care of her so she doesn’t do any more harm. So, I will. And you’ll watch and live with the knowledge that you were her downfall.”

            Polly shifted a bit so she was standing more in front of Kate. But neither of them said a word in response.

            “Search them,” Luca commanded after finding a gun in Tommy’s coat. “The dead girl walking has a gun on her thigh.” He added, sending a glare towards Kate.

            None of them said anything as they were patted down. Kate reached down and pulled the gun from her holster on her thigh, handing it over.

            Luca began pushing each document onto the floor. “So, get down on your knees and sign those papers. I’ll even let you say goodbye to her if you’re quick about it.” He gestured for one of his men with a heavy-looking gun over. The executioner in place, as it were.

            Tommy’s eyes flicked to Polly then Kate before he sank to the floor. “A friend once told me that big fucks small. So, I had to find someone bigger than you.”

            “You’re too trusting to leave your empire behind to boys, Luca,” Kate spoke up on cue. “Who’s making sure the Spinetta’s don’t decide to take what’s yours? You may work for them but they have no loyalty to you. Your family is all but wiped out. Your allies in Boston are dead because of me. I’ve gotten word from Frank Wallace that the Gustin Gang has already seized half of the territory Santo Leoni used to own. They’re loyal to us and they could very well take all of it within the next year. And you know how much Frank just loves to hate you. You’ll never make a profit in that city again. After that you’ll lose New York too.”

            “And there’s a man in Chicago who’s willing to take over your business in New York as well,” Polly added.

            Kate couldn’t help the small smirk on her face. Vengeance really was sweet. “Now who do we know in Chicago that’s bigger than you’ll ever be?”

            Luca seemed like he was starting to grasp the ploy that had been made in front of him. The smugness was starting to fade from his eyes.

            “Alphonse Capone.” Tommy finished for her.

            “You’re talking to that fat fuck?” He hissed and looked to Kate. “That man killed your fucking mother and you’re working with him?”

            “The fact that you know that proves to me you were the one who told the Outfit where my mother lived. You were the final nail in her coffin.” She wasn’t as good at containing her anger like Tommy and Polly. “You used him to kill my mother and to get me out of your hair. Now I’m going to use him to kill you.”

            “All your blood relatives you brought here are dead. The only ones left are the ones who will take the highest bid.” Tommy concluded

            Luca turned to his men. The shock slowing down his movements.

            “Loyalty is so fickle, isn’t it?” Kate said with venom in her voice.

            Luca turned back to Tommy and reached for his coat.

            “Tommy!” Kate shrieked.

            He reacted fast, knocking the pistol out of Luca’s hand. Polly had to pull Kate away from the men brawling. She felt helpless, watching Tommy finally get the upper hand and slam Luca’s face into the gin bottles on the table.

            She was so caught in the action that she didn’t see the door open until Arthur was well in her line of vision, holding up a gun.

            The bullet went through Luca’s head and into the vat behind him. The final crescendo.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

            Kate was almost bouncing out of her skin to get out of Birmingham. She was all smiles as they arrived at Arrow House. The large manor was such a sight to behold even at dusk when they pulled up the gravel drive.

            “Some fresh air, aye?” Tommy smiled as he helped Kate out of the car.

            “I can’t wait to see Blue tomorrow. I hope he hasn’t forgotten me.”

            “Horses have very good memories.” He assured her, linking arms with her as they walked back into the home they’d missed. “I’m sure he’ll be just as glad to see you.”

            “I’m going to get ready; they’ll be here soon.” On top of being back in Warwickshire and spending a nice evening with friends and family, they were finally able to tell everyone the news of Kate’s pregnancy. With the vendetta behind them, it seemed there was nothing but the open sky ahead of them. Even if it was naïve to think it would be smooth sailing from then on, Kate still wanted to believe that it would.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Tommy called for everyone’s attention as they drank and laughed in the parlor later on that night. He stood with Kate sitting nearby.

            “Listen up, before we go and eat, I’d like to say a few words. Last time we were all here, it ended badly. But now we’re in a happier place, something I think we all deserve. Last time, Kate wasn’t with us. But she’s here now and that’s something I’m very grateful for.”

            “I think that’s something we’re all grateful for.” Arthur chimed in loudly. “Keeps you in line.”

            Kate laughed. “I try my best.”

            “That she does.” Tommy looked fondly at her. “Other happy news, we’ll be having a wedding as soon as we can plan it. And we’ll be expecting a new arrival, maybe two if Pol’s right. Which, we all know she is when it comes to these things. In other words, Kate is expecting twins.”

            There was a murmur of surprise but Ada looked thrilled as she crossed the room to hug her. “I should’ve known. How couldn’t I have known?”

            “Twins, aye?” Arthur shook his head with a grin. “And what’ll they be, Polly? Boys or girls or both?”

            “Two boys,” Polly reported. “God bless us all.”

            Kate smiled and stood up to kiss Tommy’s cheek. What a happy occasion.

            “Then, that gives me even more of an argument for what m’about to say.” Arthur stood up with his whiskey glass in hand. “Our enemies are gone. And for the first time since we enlisted in the yeomanry. The Shelby boys, me, Tommy, and John.” He paused briefly, sadness in his eyes for their fallen brother. “For the first time, there’s peace. Since you’ve got little ones on the way, you need some free time. So, I propose, from everyone in the company, that Tommy should take a holiday. War’s over. It’s time you’ve rested.”

            Kate nodded and squeezed Tommy’s hand.

            “To peace.” Arthur finished his toast, giving his brother an earnest look. But Tommy’s eyes were distant. There was something that wasn’t done with.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @biba3434 @kimmietea  @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe @evelynshelby

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[theotherwasdeath]

the ethics of being a sugar baby (stevetony, rated T, 1.8k)

At first, Steve doesn’t even notice. 

In his defense, he’s had much more important things on his mind. Namely, Tony’s chest and immediate access to it. 

Later, he’ll look back on all of these nights and call himself stupid, clumsy, too caught up in the scrape of Tony’s beard against his chin and Tony’s hands in his hair to care about anything else. The catalyst for his realization is, admittedly, quite small. It’s something Tony says to him, after they’ve worn themselves out and collapsed onto sweat-damp sheets.

“God, you’re gonna make me replace my whole wardrobe at this rate. Not that I mind, of course…” Tony trails off as he turns to him and runs his fingers lovingly down Steve’s bare chest, which is covered in rapidly-fading bitemarks. 

That pulls Steve out of the hazy, post-coital space he’d been floating in. He wraps his arm around Tony’s waist, pulls him ever-so-slightly closer.   

“What do you mean, replace your whole wardrobe?”

Tony huffs out a laugh as he turns back around, once again becoming the little spoon. “Come on, you’ve seen what you do to all of my shirts. Look at the one on the floor! Completely shredded, you animal,” he says, kicking the blanket off the bed and making himself comfortable against Steve’s body. 

Steve tenses up, then, blood running cold. Logically, he knows that Tony has money. He knows that Tony can get more shirts. He knows that this is the future, and Tony doesn’t have to stitch up his shirts with a thread and needle anymore. He knows, he knows, he knows…

Tony elbows him in the abdomen. 

“Ow! What was that for?”

“We have been over this, Steven, I am not--”

“--you are not a stress ball, stop squeezing you, yes dear, whatever you say sweetheart.” Steve rolls his eyes at Tony’s theatrics, mouth turning up at the corners despite himself.

Tony exhales in a pattern that could be construed as a laugh. “Go to bed or I’ll sell all of my lingerie.”

Steve, knowing from experience to just drop the argument, lets his eyes fall shut as he tries not to think about how much he’s cost Tony.

***

Steve is nothing if not an expert at shoving down his feelings until they boil over like a lidded pot. As such, the next time he really pays much attention to this thing of his is when Tony drags him to go clothes shopping a few days later. 

He doesn’t enjoy the errand much, but Tony had been extra persuasive, with kisses along the back of Steve’s neck, that evil little man, he knows that’s where Steve is ticklish, promises of “it’ll be fun! We never go out anymore, baby, we’re so busy, spend some time with me,” and wide, pleading brown eyes, and Steve didn’t have the heart to say no. 

Tony takes him to the corner of 30th street and 10th avenue, into a store he actually recognizes. It’s bigger, brighter, and like everything in the future, very “Tony,” but he remembers his mother’s Neiman Marcus Company catalogs with their pages and pages of factory-made clothes, that year’s new hooverette [x] circled in red. 

Of course, the two of them aren’t going to look at house dresses. They probably don’t even make house dresses or corselets [x] anymore, thinks Steve, and even if they did, Tony wouldn’t want to wear them and-- Steve stops himself before he can think about Tony in garters anymore. They’re in public, for God’s sake. 

Tony pulls him aside to the shirt racks, hands him a few dozen button ups, and ushers him into the dressing rooms. The silk feels so smooth, catching in places against the calluses on his hands, almost too perfect to be held by him.

A small, guilty feeling in his gut tells him to check the price, but the selfish part of him, the one that wants to enjoy every aspect of being Tony Stark’s latest project, ignores it. 

No, instead Steve lets Tony dress him up like his own personal fashion model, and laughs when he puts together the most atrocious eyesore of an outfit in the world [x]. The bright red fedora clashes horribly with the crystal-covered shoes, and Tony had pulled on zebra-print boxers to go with the cheetah-print shirt, telling him “it’s not like anyone who wears these boxers is gonna be concerned with pants.” 

Tony drags him out of the store after a couple of hours, after wheedling him into getting another few suits and some shoes, with promises that they’ll go get them tailored for Steve’s shoulders and legs. He thinks about how his old Captain America costume always left him chafed red around his pecs and on the inside of his thighs, and tries to not blush at how off-handedly considerate Tony can be sometimes. 

After they get back to the tower, Steve collapses into bed, exhausted from their day out. As he drifts off, the guilt comes back, this time with a vengeance. 

Neiman Marcus is obviously a pricey store. Tony must have spent thousands on you today, and you don’t even have the decency to do something in return for him? To even offer to pay him back? You’re so selfish. You should be ashamed of yourself. 

Steve lies awake and focuses heavily on his breathing, wills his heart rate to go down, and promises himself he’ll be brave about his emotions tomorrow. 

***

That morning, he wakes up like he’s going into a warzone. In a way, he is; entering Tony Stark’s bedroom, uninvited, to snoop around? Terrifying. 

Tony is already long gone by the time Steve gets to his floor and creeps his way into the suite. The guilt makes a reappearance even as he asks JARVIS to unlock Tony’s bedroom door, his thoughts all converging on Tony’s even paying for you now. He took a day off yesterday to spend time with you, time he could have used to work on his SI projects, or the mountain of SHIELD paperwork that’s piled up lately, or anything except waste a day at a goddamn department store--

He shakes his head, tries to reassure himself with the knowledge that Tony wanted to go out with him, he wanted to spend time with him, that’s why he asked, but his heart won’t stop beating, oh God, he’s going to die at the doorway of Tony’s walk-in closet--

“Steve? What are you doing?”

He turns his head towards Tony’s voice, and now, of course, is when the second wave of panic and self-loathing hits, taking a nosedive into now Tony knows exactly how weak you are, he had to leave his job to check on you, and he tries to open his mouth, to explain himself, but all that comes out is a strangled noise as his knees threaten to give out.

Tony looks-- he looks worried, not angry. That’s not good. Steve can deal with anger, he knows how anger works. He’s not prepared for pity or concern. And that’s why he does the worst thing he could possibly do when literally backed into a corner: he lies to Tony’s face. 

“Nothing. I’m fine. I just… I missed you, this morning.”

Tony’s smarter than that, he’s always been able to see through Steve, so of course he calls him on it. “Uh huh, I missed you too, now tell me what’s going on.” He punctuates this with an eye-roll and an outstretched hand to pull Steve towards his bed.

They sit on the edge of the bed in silence for a few minutes, Steve too stubborn to talk, until Tony can’t stand it anymore.

“You know, I really don’t appreciate having my intelligence questioned, Steven Grant. It’s very unattractive. Here I was thinking that nothing you did could be unattractive and yet, you managed to prove me wrong.” Tony gives him a slight smile, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

Well, Steve might as well get it over with. Rip off the proverbial band-aid. 

“How much do I cost you?”

That makes Tony stop smiling.

“How much do you cost me? What’s gotten into you?” 

“I just- you said that I’m making you replace your wardrobe because I keep destroying your shirts, and they’re so expensive, and you buy me so many nice things and I’ve never offered to pay you back, and I don’t even know if I could pay you back because I don’t even have a real job, I’m useless and you deserve someone better than me--” Steve realizes, vaguely, that he’s getting more and more choked up, and that there are tears threatening to spill.

Tony pulls Steve close, lets him rest his head against his shoulder, which feels safer than it should. 

“Is this all because of what I said in bed a few nights ago?”

Steve means to say yes, but it comes out as a wounded-sounding whimper. 

“Oh, honey, you know you don’t need to worry about that. What’s the point of sleeping with a billionaire if you don’t get to be a sugar baby?” Tony’s running a hand through his hair now, and it does a lot in the way of calming Steve down. 

“But I shouldn’t be a… a sunk cost for you! That’s wrong, I’m taking advantage.”

Tony sighs at him, then, and pulls Steve’s head up to face him. “Look at me, you’re not taking advantage. I know what that feels like.” 

Steve makes an indignant noise at that, because how dare someone try to take advantage of Tony, which makes Tony poke his nose and say, “Hey, do not interrupt me when I’m trying to have a heartfelt discussion with you! We can talk about my tragic love life later, but let it be said that I, of all people, would know what it feels like to know that someone is only with you for the money.”

When Steve doesn’t respond, just stares at Tony with bright eyes, Tony continues. “I love spoiling you. I love taking you out around town like you’re Vivian Ward and I’m Edward Lewis.”

“I don’t understand that reference.” Steve feels his eyebrows knitting together in confusion, a familiar feeling when he’s around Tony.

“Have I not shown you Pretty Woman? You’ll love it.”

“Do you really mean it? You don’t, you know, think I’m selfish? For being like this? For not, uh, contributing?” Steve is just fishing for additional reassurance at this point; he’s done being brave about his emotions for the 

Tony smiles in full force, then, and moves to sit on Steve’s lap. “Oh, I’ll show you one way you can contribute. Take off your shirt.”

Steve does.

[blarfkey]

Zev/Ellana “Shh. You better be quiet if you don’t want to get caught.” Rated E

For @sharkapologists

BTW I having a lot of fun practicing smut with these promps, haha.

At first it looks so innocent. Barely bigger than her thumb and dark red, Ellana doesn't even know what the hell it is.

"This is my present?" she asks dubiously.

"Don't look so disappointed, mi amor. We are going to have a lot of fun with it."

"Okay, great. But what is it?"

"Oh, your innocence never fails to delight me. Here. Let me demonstrate."

He takes the device from her and cups it in his hand. It's so small that it disappears entirely behind his fingers. Then he cups her between her legs.

Nothing happens.

"Wow," Ellana drawls out.

Zevran chuckles against her neck. "Give me a moment."

He pulls out his phone with his other hand, opening up a harmless looking app with a button and then --

Out of nowhere the thing starts buzzing right against her clit, sending an immediate shock wave of pleasure, even though her jeans.

“Fuck!"

Ellana scrabbles for purchase against his shoulders, her hips jerking up against his hand. Zevran chuckles again, pressing kisses down her neck while she grinds against his hand, rapidly turning into a needy, hot mess. The sensation, so new and so different and so intense, makes her come embarrassingly fast and embarrassingly loud.

"Did you enjoy that, carina?" Zevran switches the device off and pulls his hand away. "Your blush is redder than it is."

Ellana's still trying to catch her breath, her chest pounding. "What the fuck is that?"

Zevran places the device in her hand with an unbearable smirk. It's warm.

"It's a vibrator," he says. "Except this one is very special."

A vibrator. Ellana looks down. She's heard of them, but she's never actually seen one. It doesn’t look like much but damn does it pack a punch.

"How so?"

"Because it's designed to fit discretely in your underwear and it's controlled remotely by my phone. The range is incredible."

Zevran gives her an unbearable smirk before leaning in. "You are going to have to learn to be quieter, Ellana, because I am going to be making you cum all day tomorrow," he adds against her ear.

Zevran lied. That fucking bastard has not been making her cum all day. He's been making almost cum all day, but just when she gets close, the vibrations will stop. How the fuck does he know?

He also didn't tell her that the vibrator comes with different settings. In addition to the steady buzzing that gotten her off so quickly last night, there's a soft fluttering pulse that does nothing but tease her, a sharp, staccato that makes her jump in her seat, and heart beat pulse that makes her see stars and never lasts more than a few seconds at a time because he hates her.

The worst part is that she has no idea when it will activate. She can sit through half an hour of lecture with nothing and then suddenly have her pen ricochet across the paper when it starts again.

She's spent all day pissed off and unable to concentrate, thighs pressed together and fighting the urge to squirm in her seat. 

Krem actually asked if she had a fever at lunch and she had to convince him she was perfectly fine in between bites of her sandwich and the soft fluttering pulses of the vibrator that drive her mad and do little else.

Thank the gods today she doesn't have Dr. Sten.

He was right about one thing -- it really is discrete. No one can see it through her jeans and no one can hear it and it's somehow worse that Ellana's losing her sanity and no one would be able to tell why.

That afternoon she stalks down to the math tutoring room, armed with a stormy expression and her problem set for the week. At this point she could probably get through it alone without too many issues, but Zevran fucking owes her right now and she is going to collect.

Of course today of all days the tutoring room is packed. Ellana has to wait until Zevran gets done with another student -- teased by the vibrator on it's softest setting -- her fingers gripping her textbook until she's white knuckled.

When the freshman finally fucking leaves, Ellana stalks over to his table and slams the book down loud enough to make the guy at the table beside them flinch.

Zevran gives her a sunny smile. "Good afternoon! How may I help you?"

"You fucking son of a bitch," she hisses, sitting down.

"I'm sorry? What have I done to offend?" He blinks innocently. "Haven't you peaked many mountains today?"

She leans across the table, glaring at him. "I haven't peaked any mountains today," she says in the barest whisper.

Zevran leans back and smirks. "I know. But unfortunately for you, I'm closing today, so unless you have some. . . problems you need solving, you will have to go home and wait for another two hours or so.”

"I do have problems," she says, flipping the book open.

A slow smile crosses his face. "Well. Let's get to work, shall we?"

She spends the better part of those two hours struggling. After a year of help, Ellana has made significant gains in math. Not that anyone could tell in that moment.

Zevran explains patiently how to break down each problem and she looks down, mind blanking every time the vibrator pulses suddenly against her. He keeps his phone hidden under the table so she has no idea when he start it up again.

Sometimes he will let sit there for several minutes, undisturbed, while she jumps at every tiny sound or movement and sometimes he will leave it on the lowest setting to slowly drive her mad while she tries to solve complex equations.

And sometimes he gives her the illusion of impending relief, forcing her to bite her lip to keep from crying out and control her breathing while the people around her carry on, oblivious.

And just when she's skirting the edge of what promises to be the most bone shaking orgasm of her life, it stops and she has to fight not to cry or murder someone.

By the time five thirty rolls around, the room is empty save for them and she's a soaking, aching mess of a person, teetering on the edge of insanity.

Zevran packs his messenger back with care, his phone on the table and Ellana's eyes dart over to it. It would be so easy to take it and push that button and sit on it to keep him from getting to it. By this point she could probably cum in ten seconds or less.

His eyes meet hers, the corner of his mouth crooking up.

"Ellana, mi amor, please turn the lights off for me."

He knows. Godsdamn it. Ellana sighs and stands up, stalking over to the light switch by the door in a huff.

The room plunges into darkness -- the winter sun having just set -- and a second later the vibrator starts up again, the heart-beat pulse that knocks the air out of her. Zevran crowds her up against the wall, sliding his leg between her thighs to press the vibrator closer against her.

"Shiiiit," she whiness, fingers digging into the front of his shirt.

"Shhhh," he says. "You should be quiet if you don't want to get caught."

A desperate, needy sound builds up in her throat. "I can't."

He presses his hand hard against her open mouth, muffling the scream spills from her as she cums harder than she ever has in her life.

She reaches up to pull his hand away but Zevran refuses to budge. Instead of backing off, he pushes her harder against the wall, his hand a firm grip over her mouth.

"Oh mi amor," he breathes against her ear. "Did you think you were only going to cum once? The phone is on the table -- we're not stopping any time soon."

She's never come more than once before -- is that even possible?

His other hand snakes underneath her shirt and sports bra to knead and pinch at her nipples. He kisses his way up and down the side of neck, teeth scraping, sucking almost hard enough to leave a mark. It's almost too much -- the steady pulse of the vibrator, the added pressure of his leg between her thighs, her breasts, her neck --

Ellana comes again, her orgasm lighting through her nerves like electricity and it's pleasure and agony both.

"One more time, my sweet girl,” he croons. “One more time.”

He kisses past her clavicle, down her sternum, pulling her shirt and bra up and latching onto one of her nipples, teeth scraping over it exactly the way that drives her crazy. He undoes her jeans with practiced perfection, chuckling against her breast as his fingers glide over the sticky fluid that has seeped through her underwear to coat her inner thighs. Pushing the side of her underwear, he slips one long finger into her soaking, desperate entrance and Ellana screams against his hand.

Her hips stutter and grind against his leg, she's so wet it's dripping down her thigh now and the world has reduced itself to nothing but overwhelming sensations.

Fuck. FUCK!

Her third orgasm hurts the way a good massage hurts, her walls fluttering and clenching around his finger. She doesn't think she could take another one, but luckily for her, Zevran pulls both his hand and the vibrator from her ruined underwear and tugs her jeans back up.

He takes a moment to lick the vibrator clean before stowing it in his pocket and holy fucking hell.

Ellana slumps to the floor while he gathers his things, turning the vibrator off with his phone. She's too boneless to move.

"Come, Ellana," he says, striding over to her and holding out his hand. "Let's get you home."

She glares at him balefully. "Let's get you home. I have vengeance to enact."

He gives her a wolfish smile. "I look forward to it."

[jay-and-dean]

I don’t need you  Chapter 4 : Raging Fire

Dean x reader

Summary : She’s a warrior, she’s a loner. Nothing can stop her, nothing ever had. She doesn’t need Dean, does she ?

This is a request by @magssteenkamp​ that I decided to turn to a serie, see the original request on the serie Masterlist.

Serie Warnings : Swearing (duh). Mention of death. Smut, probably all kind from rough to fluffy, I’ll precise in the chapters if there are specific warnings. Fluff. Angst of course.

Chapter warnings :  Swearing (duh). Alcohol abuse. Mention of death. SMUT (light, distant? I don’t want to say too much, still 18+). Angst and flames.

Words : 3.2 k

Note : I’ll try to stick to the 3k rule, like for Rescue You

If everything goes as planned, you’ll get one chapter every wednesday (Thanks to @magssteenkamp, I call it WednesJay, lol. Sorry okay, I shut up).

***Want to read more ? => MASTERLIST***

*** I don’t need you MASTERLIST***

__________________________

4.     RAGING FIRE

Reader’s Pov

           The ceiling is spinning.

           I get up but stumble and almost find myself on the floor, leaning to the wall, I grunt. Another sip on whiskey, then another. I’m breathing heavily, trying to think though that thick haze I created myself.

           I must have freaked him out, Dean.

Shit, why did I kissed his neck ? Or was it the attempt murder that scared him ? I grunt again, trying to walk straight to my psycho wall but I stumble once more, and catch myself on the table.

“Shit !”

           On the wall, with all my researches : the articles that shows Holloway’s head on the Lincoln statue in the circle of the anti-possession symbol, to sign from the hunters ; with crazy  titles like “Gang or Satanist secret society  ? Are the missing teen related to that ritual ?” And the articles about the fire that burned out an entire building to the ground without spreading at all to the others. That magic fire is a real blessing.

           I’m just so tired and confused. Nothing feels right. I knew vengeance wouldn’t be enough to move on, but I didn’t know I would feel that void inside of me. The worse is, I don’t really know what left that deep hole inside my chest.

“Stupid” I whisper, taking another sip of whiskey.

           I throw myself at the wall, ripping everything, tearing up each piece of paper one by one. Making everything fall from my desk in a rage I don’t quite understand.

           My phone rings, it’s Joe again… If I don’t answer, he will show up, and I don’t want that. I pick up the phone and sit on the floor, among the pieces of my life.

“What. Joe.”

“Y/n ? I was worried” he says with his honeyed voice.

“You always are.”

“Are you drunk again ?”

“Yes” I chuckle, feeling the tingling in my face skin.

“Y/n… I know this is a hard time for you but… Maybe you shouldn’t stay alone for a while, you could come at my place if you want…”

“Was they scared of me ?” I cut him and he sighs deeply.

“You have to stop being obsessed with Dean Winchester, Y/n. He left, you were doing good before him, what is the problem ?”

Before him ? When was before him ?

“You’re such a party pooper, Joe…” a hiccup punctuate my sentence. “Maybe I just wanted to have fun with him.”

“Yeah I think we all noticed that” he grunts. “Listen, please stop drinking and I’ll be here after my shift… You should come back to work, Y/n, Gerald won’t buy the sick things longer, and you know you need that job.”

“I do” I admit.

I need that stupid job. I need it because it pays food, and heating, it pays for safety and dignity. And when you stopped school at 12, you don’t have that much options.

“I’ll come to work tomorrow, but don’t come tonight, I won’t open the door. I’m getting drunk until I pass out, and tomorrow I’ll be back to my shitty life…”

I take another sip of whiskey.

“Don’t say that… You have me and you’ll find other cases. You’re the best woman I know… Please be careful” he tries but all I can hear is the love in his words.

A love I don’t want, a love I don’t deserve or need at all.

           I hang up and notice the Winchesters notebook on my right. I sigh. I’m not obsessed with Dean Winchester. I just like his story.

           I just feel like I knew him, like Sam and him had been my only friends for years.

           And now I like his face too. And his smell.

           I smile and close my eyes for a second, picturing my lips on the skin of his neck. I hum, and put a hand on my lower stomach, where it tickles. I take a deep breath and let my hand go a little south, my head a little back. Shy with my own body, almost surprised by its strong reactions.

“Dean…” I murmur in the dizziness of my drunk state.

I open my jeans with one hand, and slip my finger where I rarely go for anything else than cleaning.

Oh fuck…

           The bottle of whiskey I was holding on my other hand falls and spills everywhere.

“Shit !” I kneel to try and save my precious notebooks, opening the Winchesters one to check no alcohol damaged it.

           785-555-0128

I’m one call away.

           D.W

My eyes widen.

           Why the hell would he give me his number if he doesn’t want to see me ? Or maybe was it before I almost killed him…

           My sober mind tries to tell me to let go, but my drunk mind… I dial the number, my jeans still open, the notebook in my hand.

It rings three times…

“Dean Winchester” his sleepy voice answers and I smile like an idiot.

“Hey…” I just say, my stupid smile in my voice, and I hear him move.

“Y/n ?”

“I found your note” I state, shrugging although he can’t see me.

“I’m glad you did. How are you ?”

“I’m drunk” I answer, his voice somehow relaxing me.

“O-okay… So Joe didn’t give you the note Sam wrote I guess.”

“A note ?” I think hard, the alcohol making it even harder now, like Dean accentuated its effect.

“That’s what I thought” he grunts. “We left him a note for you, with our numbers. I-I was worried about you. So, no fangs ?”

“No fangs” I nod. “You can relax.”

He chuckles and I smile at the muffled sound of his laugh.

“I am relaxed, sweetheart.”

“Do you call all the girls like that ?”

A silence.

“Does it matter ?” he says lower, and I’m suddenly very aware of my open jeans.

“I was going to touch myself” I state, my drunk mind winning completely, but take another sip anyway, like I needed courage to be at ease with my words.

“Oh really ?” his voice goes even lower. “Why did you stop for me ?”

“I found your number…” a hiccup. “I thought…” I let a finger linger on my own cleavage, lost in the haze of whiskey and in Dean Winchester.

“Did you want me to help you with something Y/n ?” he grunts and my heart races.

“You’re not even here… Why did you left ?” I whine.

“I was… I didn’t want to but… You didn’t need me, us. Do you need me to drive to you ?”

“No… By the time you arrive, I won’t be drunk anymore…”

“That’s even better, Sweetheart.”

“Yeah but not drunk me is no fun… Her p…” hiccup. “Pants is always in place.”

He chuckles again.

“And now yours is not ?” he asks like he was weighing his words.

I shake my head, forgetting he can’t see me, and hear him take a deep breath.

“You should have fun, you deserve that” he states calmly.

I drink from the bottle again, and put my hand back in my panties, grazing my folds.

“I am.”

Something is yelling inside of me to stop that madness, but it’s so far I can’t hear it behind the desire and the alcohol.

“Oh really you are ?” he asks, as I slip a finger between my folds. “I should let you then… Call you tomorrow to speak to not drunk Y/n.”

“But it’s now that I need you…” I exhale, a soft moan escaping my lips when my already too sensitive clit swells under my fingers.

A short silence, then he sighs.

“What are you doing ?” he says with an authoritarian tone.

“Rubbing down there…” I fully moan now, my desire like a fire raging inside of me. “Imagining you can touch me through the phone.”

“Fuck… If I was there, I would definitely put my fingers inside you… You know… Replace yours with mine… Are you wet ?” he almost pants, and that makes me clench around nothing.

“Yes… very.”

“Then use your middle and ring fingers Sweetheart, go deep. And think of me.”

I do. Spreading my legs wide, I cry out, my stomach shaking, frustrated that my hands are not thick enough, not strong enough, not his.

“Dean…”

“I’m here, I’m right here. How does it feel, Y/n ?”

“G-good…” the alcohol is pounding in my head, and I flatten my palm to crush my clit as my fingers go the deepest they can, again and again… And again. “Fuck ! Dean…”

His breathing is fast and heavy, he groans at the sound of his name. I have no idea if he’s touching himself, if he’s hard… I think he is, he sounds like he was craving, another louder groan escapes his lips after one of my moans.

           That all it takes. I come in a strangled cry, my legs carrying my hips a little off the floor, dropping the phone to grab my own thigh. I don’t say a word but whine loud, and my butt finally hits the floor again.

           I’m panting and so drunk. Trying to catch the phone that bounced a little further, I fall on my side, grabbing it as I can.

“Hey Y/n ? You’re still there ?”

“Yeah…” I answer sleepily, my body bathing in the liquor I spilled earlier, the room spinning too much to keep my eyes open.

“You… Sweetheart, you really are something…” I hear him chuckles, holding my phone close to me like it was him, the same way I used to do with the Supernatural books. “Y/n ?...”

His voice is distant and I nod…

 *******

             Hot.

           Burning hot and hard to breathe.

           My aching hangover brain tries to register what is wrong, and I open my eyes.

           Fire. Fire everywhere.

           In a movement of panic, I try to get up, leaning to the desk, but burn my hand and cry out. The flames are already eating the ceiling and all my notes are flying in the smoke.

           My phone still in my hand, I look around : my life is going to aches… Then I think of the other people in the building.

           Running outside I strongly hit every doors, yelling at people to go out, breaking the fire alarms with my fist, cutting it, to make them ring. I hear barks and kick my neighbor’s wooden door as I can, grabbing his old dog to run in the stairs.  

           Outside, everybody is stunned or crying, waiting for the firefighters. I give the dog to the janitor and run.

           My head hurts, my stomach hurts, and adrenaline is making my heart beat almost painfully.

           They were targeting me, they tried to burn me to aches as I killed their king. That means they know who I am… And if they have my identity, they have everything.

Run.

           I run, taking my phone I try to call Joe, jostling people.

           No answer.

           My heart is pounding in my head, the alcohol burning my eyes. Images of last night come in flashes and a punch of anxiety hits my stomach. I have no time to think of that.

           Turning left, I ignore people staring at me and keep going as fast as I can, the winter sun dazzling me, the cold wind hitting my cleavage and neck with his thousand needles.

           Then I see it. Firefighters, cops… The bar burned, and judging by the fact that it’s already extinguished, I’d say it burned hours ago.

           Stunned, I walk to the scene, hoping to see Joe’s face in the middle of the crowd. A cop sees me, and stop me firmly.

“This is a crime scene, you can’t be here, Ma’am.”

“Crime ? I work here…” I try to see above his shoulder. “Have you seen a tall man named Joe ?”

A somber look appears on his face and my heart misses a beat.

“Did Joe work here last night ?”

“Y-yes.”

He sighs.

“Someone put the bar on fire and blocked all the issues, Ma’am. I’m sorry. I’ll let you know when we identify the bodies. Could you give your name and address, we will need to contact you…”

Address.

Joe.

They… They killed Joe. They burned him alive and the last thing I said to him was that I didn’t want to see him. The air seem thick suddenly. So putrid and thick.

           I turn on myself and look at the phone in my hand. I have nothing left, I can’t even buy a sandwich or change clothes right now. It’s back… It’s all back…

           And Joe died because of me.

           Feeling the panic rise, I give the cop a fake name and address. They will make the link between the two fires, and find like thirty illegal weapons in the ashes of my apartment. And I called sick yesterday…

I have to disappear.

           So I run the other way. But where will I go ? I have no gun, I have no money, I can’t even buy a bus ticket. I can’t breathe, and the cold suddenly feels so painful. My coat burnt. My notes burnt with the few money I had saved…

My only friend, he burnt too.

I look down at my unbuttoned jeans and feel nauseous. I don’t need them, I don’t need him. I can be on my own, I’m a warrior. I’m a warrior…

 *******

             I spent the day walking, I have no other choice, if I stop, the cold grabs me by the collarbones, and the vampires will spot me. The night is here again, and I can feel the hunger growing inside of me, threatening.

           I have no plan and I have no shelter. My phone rings once in my hand so I look at the screen, a delusional hope makes my guts flutter for a second, what if it was Joe after all ? But the screen only says I only have 10% battery left… I don’t have a charger.

I can’t feel my hands.

Letting my back slide down the wall behind the Chinese restaurant, I burst in tears. Am I ready to die ? Or should I fight a little more ?

           My shaking hands light the screen again and I take a deep breath.

 Dean’s Pov

             I can barely focus on the movie playing on the crappy screen of the little motel TV. Sam is talking about the case and I pretend to listen : probably the ghost of the wife, bla bla bla.

           I wish I could call her, but she uses a withheld number, of course she does. She probably won’t call again, and I can’t stop thinking of her…

I could  do researches on Joe, I know his first name and where he works, maybe I could get to him and convince that son of a bitch to give me her number, or…

“Dude, are you even listening ?” Sam sighs.

“Yes, dead wife, angry ghost.”

He rolls his eyes but the phone in my palm buzzes, making me forget Sam in an instant.

           I get up and walk to the bathroom, looking at it : withheld number.

“Dude !” Sam calls, annoyed.

I pick up, not even doubting a second.

“Y/n ?”

“Dean…” her voice is sad, broken even, and exhausted.

“Are you okay Sweetheart ?” I frown, half-sitting on the sink.

“Not really… Joe’s dead, my… my apartment burnt and the bar… Everything is gone. Now they’re after me but I have no weapon and… No fucking phone charger so…”

My heart breaks and I get up, going back to the bedroom to take my coat and keys.

“Where are you ? Y/n, I’m coming for you, I will be there in seven to eight hours Sweetheart, you hold on okay ? Turn off your phone and only turn it on to tell me if your location has to change, okay ? I’m coming Y/n.”

She gives me a street name and I hang up.

“What’s happening ?” Sam gets up, starting to follow me outside.

“Y/n needs me, they killed Joe and burnt her house, you take the ghost, I go get her.”

 *******

             Seven hours is really long when you have no idea if the person you’re driving too is still alive. Sammy called, after the bones were burnt, he made some researches on what happened in the bar, the cops already made the connection with her apartment, and the firefighters reported suspicious items.

           During those horribly long hours, I tried to think of the first time I saw her, how fierce and deadly she was, and I convinced myself that she is hard to get and impossible to kill. But in the night, on the highway, my mind kept drifting to a thousand other things, and among them : the fear of how she makes me feel.

           This city is way too big, way to crowed and I hate every street of it.

           She never called me so I really hope she is where she’s supposed to be. Anything could have happened in one night. Mumbling “Come on, come on, come on”, I look for the streets I’m supposed to cross.

           The morning is slowly raising between the buildings, a white sky and lazy sunlight morning, held back by the huge shadows of the city line. A few snowflakes flutter around the black of the Impala.

           I finally spot the Chinese restaurant she talked about, I park as I can, running out of the car right away. And when I enter the alley, I breathe out.

She’s here.

           Her hands around her shoulders, sitting in the corner beside the restaurant’s dumpsters. She’s wearing only her jeans, shoes and that corset, her phone next to her.

“Y/n” I say, getting close and she lifts her eyes on me, her face is pale, and her lips are blue. “I’m here… I’m here” I assure her, my hand reaching her knee, cautiously squatting before her.

Her eyes search my face and I swallow hard, like it could get my heart back down.

“I’m sorry” she states with a low voice. “I had no idea how to…”

“It’s okay” I cut her, taking her arm. “You’re freezing, come here. You don’t have to hide anymore, it’s day, and I’m here.”

           She gets up as she can, leaning to my shoulder at first, and I take her to the Impala waiting for us. The second she’s in it, next to me on the front seat, I turn up the heater and put a cautious hand on hers. I just can’t help touching her.

“I’m sorry for Joe, for your apartment… We will make them pay, Y/n.”

“I want them to burn” she says through her teeth.

I turn the keys in the ignition and nod.

“We find something warm to drink and eat, I take you home, and we find a way to clean your city” I state. “Y/n, you will win, okay ?”

________________________

***FEEDBACK IS GOLD***

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[dragon-fics]

DOS: Secret to Not-So-Secret {pt. 3} (Ugauc X Male Elf/Reader)

Chapter summary: Eda and Ugauc finally meet. But how long will it be sefore anyone else finds out about your secret...

pt. 1, Pt. 2, pt. 3 pt. 4, pt.5

N/T: New Trade (Blacksmithing, carpentry, writing, sculpting, etc.)

“Who is that?!” Ugauc and Eda exclaimed in unison.

I froze, glancing from one to the other.

Eda scowled and placed her hand on the hilt of the sword she carried. “Get away from us!” She warned, removing the blade from its scabbard and stepping in front of me.

Ugauc’s lips lifted as he growled, sharp canines flashing. He looked from me to Eda, unsure what to do.

“Eda! Wait! Please,” I pleaded, stepping in front of her.

“(Y/N), what are you doing?!” Eda called.

I stood firmly between her and Ugauc; I couldn’t let them hurt each other.

I gave Ugauc a small smile and his stance slowly loosened, but he didn’t take his eyes off of Eda.

I looked to Eda; she was still gripping onto her sword. “Ugauc won’t do anything, I promise, so please, put down your sword, Eda,” I begged.

Eda looked from me to Ugauc. “If I do, you need to explain everything.”

“I will, I promise.” I glanced to her hand. “Please, just put it down and give it to me.” I held my hand out to receive the sword.

Eda looked away and drew in a breath. She put her sword back in its scabbard and slowly removed it. She looked to Ugauc as she held the scabbard between both her hands. “You better not try anything,” she warned. Ugauc didn’t respond. Eda finally placed the sword in my hand.

“Thank you,” I whispered, feeling somewhat relieved she had handed it over. I took a step away from them both.

“Ugauc, this is my sister Eda,” I gestured to her. Ugauc inclined his head. “Eda, this is—“ I caught myself, unsure what to tell her. “This is my soulmate, Ugauc.” I gestured to him this time. He smiled.

I looked to Eda as a wave of emotions contorted her face. Surprise, confusion, anger and fear were some I saw.

She stayed quiet for a long time, trying to hide her emotions as much as possible.

I backed up towards Ugauc, perhaps out of fear. He moved towards me and put an arm and wing around me.

“How are you so sure?” She asked.

I explained to Eda about the ‘invisible bond’ that led Ugauc here, how we met and  our secret meetings—which happened to just spill out of my mouth.

Eda sat down on the bed of animal hides. She sighed and put her head in her hands.

“This... explains a lot, like where you were during the hunt and why you didn’t come home, why you haven’t been focused on (N/T), and why you disappear for so long every day.” She sighed again.

The wind howled outside. I sat down beside her and shared the bison hide on my shoulders.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you, but Ugauc really cares about me.” I held his hand as he stood beside us. “And I really care about him.”

Eda smiled softly and tugged on the bison blanket. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise, but people are noticing your disappearance. And soulmates are such a huge thing among our people. You’re going to need Mama and Papa soon before they push you to find someone you’ve already found.”

“That’s not going to be for years. But if I do that...” I started. Ugauc placed a hand on my shoulder.

“How about we just survive this snowstorm first, and think about that later,” he suggested. I smiled softly and nodded.

Our father had been one of the fiercest hunters for many years for our clan. If I told him about Ugauc, he wouldn’t live to see another sunrise—and he knew this.

Ugauc gathered the wood he had dropped and set up a fire. Once he had built a pyramid shape, he shifted to his beast form. Eda was taken aback and almost reached for her sword. I took her hand in  mine, reassuring her it was alright.

Ugauc blew a small yellow flame onto the pyramid of sticks. They caught fire after he held the flame for a few moments. He studied the flames before shifting back to his humanoid form and settling on the hides beside us.

Eda slowly relaxed and focused on the flames.

“Let’s just hope we don’t run out of firewood,” Ugauc whispered, running his fingers through my hair.

*-*-*-*

No POV

“Where do you think you’re going?” Eda asked (Y/N) as he walked passed her in the streets, heading towards the woods. It had been over a week since the blizzard and most of the snow had yet to melt.

“Mama needs some apples to make a pie, so I said I’d go,” (Y/N) replied, tapping his satchel.

Eda sighed. “We both know you’re not just going to do that.”

(Y/N) sighed. “Of course I’m going to see him,” he replied, agitated. He and Eda walked towards the woods together. “He’s my boyfriend, and I enjoy spending time with him.”

Eda sighed this time. “You’re going to get caught, eventually.”

“That’s why I’m visiting him as much as possible.”

“No, I mean... Someone might follow you, and you know how people feel about—“ She looked around and lowered her voice, “—his kind.”

They stopped in front of the line of trees.

“I know, that’s why I take a route no one will ever find, or be able to follow.”

Eda was now extremely agitated at her brother’s cheeriness, and quite possibly, idiocity. “Just... make sure no one follows you.”

(Y/N) smiled. “I’ll be fine, Eda.” He placed a hand on his sister’s shoulder and walked off.

Eda watched him leave before starting back towards their house.

***

All the while, Bracken had been listening.

His kind? Is (Y/N) seeing someone from a different clan?

With his new trade, perhaps he wanted to meet someone from the (N/T) clan from the south?

But he’s supposed to be training here, as Fírning’s apprentice. So why contact that clan?

And father has never been keen on their leader. Perhaps this is an act of vengeance for abandoning him during the hunt.

But if he’s doing that, he’d be a traitor to the clan!

He needs to be stopped.

Bracken nodded his head firmly and followed (Y/N) through the trees, shouldering his crossbow and griping the hilt of his sword.

*-*-*-*

Y/N’s POV

I hummed softly as I picked apples from one tree. I often hummed while doing tasks; it was just my way of getting through them.

As I put another apple into my satchel, I heard wingbeats above me. I looked up to see Ugauc hovering over me. He landed softly beside me.

“Good morning, little elfling,” he hummed, planting a kiss on my forehead.

“Good morning, fierce dragon,” I replied, testing out a new nickname for him.

Ugauc chuckled and held me in his arms. “I like that one.”

“You say that every time,” I said, smiling.

“That’s because I love everything your creative little mind comes up with and everything you say.”

My cheeks flushed bright red.

“Ugauc!” I scolded, hitting him on the shoulder.

“But it’s true,” he said defensively. I shook my head and went back to picking apples.

“So, why do you need so many?” Ugauc asked, picking apples from a higher branch and putting them in my satchel.

“Mama is baking today, so I’m here to collect apples for her pies. They’re delicious,” I added.

Ugauc smiled. “They don’t sound very appealing to my tastebuds, but to each his own.”

“I could bring you some tomorrow... if any survive that long.”

“All right, I’ll give it a try, if you can save it from the savages you have as a family,” Ugauc joked.

I laughed. He smiled.

But then his face dropped, and he whipped around, his face hard and his eyes scanning the bushes behind me.

Before I could ask anything an arrow came from the shadows and hit Ugauc in the shoulder. Another one came from the same spot, but he caught it just before they embedded a second one in his thigh.

My breath hitched; someone had found us.

Ugauc growled and shifted to his beast form, emerald scales glistening in the sun. The arrows that had been embedded in his flesh fell from the wounds onto the ground as he shifted.

“No!” I shouted as he shifted. I heard a crossbow being loaded again, but with a different arrow; a slaying arrow. An arrow that could kill a dragon if aimed correctly; usually for the artery in the dragon's neck

“Don’t!” I called, but they had loosed the arrow. Time slowed down as I saw the four-pointed broadhead arrow slice through the scales on Ugauc’s neck. Navy blood spilled from the wound as the arrow embedded itself in a tree behind Ugauc.

Ugauc fell to the ground with a heavy thud(i). I rushed over to him as blood trickled around the front of his neck.

“No. No. No. No. No!” I begged, frantically thinking about what I could do. Tears spilled from my eyes, I had to stop the bleeding.

I lifted my knee-length grey tunic off my body and wrapped it around his neck.

As I studied where the wound was, I knew the arrow had missed the major artery to the brain, but there was still so much blood and I had no way to heal him quickly.

“Just hang in there, ok, Ugauc? Please, just hang in there!” I pleaded, putting pressure on the wound, my tunic already turning navy.

“Fraternising with a dragon. Who knew you would be the one to do such a thing?” Came a male voice, one I knew.

“Bracken,” I seethed, whipping my head around to him.

“You were supposed to kill the dragon! Not kiss him! How could you betray your own clan like this?” Bracken yelled.

I wiped away my tears and got to my feet. “I didn’t betray anyone, and he has done nothing!” I yelled back.

“If we thought like that, and waited for them to attack us, we wouldn’t be standing and our village would be ruins!” Bracken stepped closer to me and punched me in the nose. My head exploded with pain as I fell to the ground.

“Bracken!” Called Eda’s voice. “Step away from him!” She ordered. But before he could move, Eda hit him across the head with the hilt of her sword, knocking him out.

She rushed over to me. “(Y/N)!” She shouted as I lost consciousness.

Here’s a meme for y’all that inspired a line in this.

[billyhardgrove]

It’s All Pretend - Prologue

A/N: Hi - please don’t kill me but apparently I’m incapable of sticking to one story and writing it completely; instead i need to have three going at the same time. But I really liked this simple idea and thought it would be quite fun to write and I just had to write at least the prologue so as I didn’t lose the idea. So here’s that. Enjoy xx

Summary: You and your boyfriend have taken a ‘break’ (per his request) and you’re pretty devastated about it. Cue Billy Hargrove. He’s your rebound (from everyone else’s point of view) and he’s going to help you get back at your ex.

Word Count: 1.2k approx.

Warnings: Just some swearing (for now).

PROLOGUE | masterlist

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You stared at the brown-haired boy, his eyes flickering from you to the wall, to the ground every now and again. His lips continued to move but you couldn’t make out a single thing he said after those five words; ‘We should take a break.’

You should’ve scoffed in his face, laughed sarcastically at the audacity he had. You should’ve perhaps flipped out at him, demanding a good enough reason for him to want such a thing. Honestly, you should’ve just pretended you didn’t even know who he was; God, anything so long as it gave you the upper hand, anything that didn’t make you feel as small as you did.

But instead what did you do? You stood there in silence, your mouth hanging open dumbly, still in shock, before pathetically nodding your head when asked if you understood what he was saying. And honestly, as you angrily stacked boxes in the storage room later that same day, your delayed fury was on rapid fire as you repeatedly cursed; ‘Fuck you Steve Harrington’ under your breath.

Or at least you thought it was under your breath.

“Wow, what’ve I walked in on?” A deep voice made you jump, causing you to spin on your feet to face the doorway in which the individual stood.

“Jesus, Hargrove - you near made me shit myself.” You cursed the blonde boy, your hand reaching up to rest on your chest where you felt your heart still racing from the scare.

Billy had a small smirk on his lips at your bluntness, finding it somewhat amusing while his eyebrows raised at you.

“What are you doing back here? Only employees are allowed here.” You told him, your tone turning bored as you returned your attention to the stupid boxes. God, you hated working at the arcade. It was such a dull job, making the hours pass be at a snail’s pace. But, even though it was shit pay, it was still a way of income that you needed, especially since you recently got a car and needed to start putting fuel in it.

“I’m looking for my stepsister. I’m supposed to pick her up, but the little shit hasn’t bothered to show, and I can’t leave without her.” Billy replied, and although his words implied concern his facial expression showed anything but. He almost rolled his eyes with the lack of care he seemed to have, but still he was going out of his way to find the girl.

“Well, she’ll not be back here.” You clipped, kind of annoyed with his presence and hinting that he should leave. After all, he had interrupted your little session of anger release upon stacking boxes and you could feel the irritation start to return the longer he stood there.

“Right, well I know she wouldn’t dare leave, so I need you to check the girls’ bathrooms for me.” He told you, disinterest still clear.

“Why don’t you do it?” You murmured, not really listening to what he said and when he didn’t reply you looked at him and saw he was giving you a face as though to say, ‘wise up.’ Then realising what he said, you tried again. “How about just wait for her to come out? I’m sure she won’t be long.”

“I’ve been waiting for her for fifteen fucking minutes and still no sign. But she’s probably in there with one of her mates yapping away about girl shit. Why the hell do girl’s feel the need to go to the bathroom together and then spend half a lifetime in there?” He rambled, but you weren’t really paying him much attention. So when you didn’t respond, he spoke up again.

“Can you please just go and fucking check?” He asked again. “I’ve really got somewhere I should be.”

“With some girl, no doubt.” You mumbled under your breath, the words just slipping out without much thought. Billy held a reputation, and everyone from school knew about it including you, so you just sort of figured that his plans were to merely build on said reputation tonight.

“Maybe it is, sweetheart. But what’s that to you?” Billy challenged, taunt filtering through the air as he smirked nastily at you. He was trying to make you embarrassed, to make you feel as though you shouldn’t have let slip what you had, as though you should feel humiliated at the idea you had hinted that you cared that he spent a lot of his time with many different girls.

But quite frankly, his little game didn’t work on you, because in all honesty you didn’t give two shits about the boy or his reputation; it was merely a subconscious slip of the tongue. The only thing on your mind was fucking Steve Harrington and the confusion and frustration he had managed to bestow on you that early afternoon.

You scoffed; “Don’t flatter yourself, Hargrove. Not every girl wonders who the next skank is that you’ll be burying yourself inside of.” Rolling your eyes at the cocky boy, you were tempted to teach him that not everything revolved around him; that people had their own problems to deal with and didn’t all waste their time with his superficial exploits.

Billy only chuckled at your words, trying not to take the hit to his ego too hard. But when he still didn’t make any motion to leave, you were getting fed up with how aggravating he was being. Perhaps your current relationship status played a hefty part on your sour mood then, but Billy’s hovering while you worked really didn’t lessen it.

“What do you want, Billy?” You snapped, turning your head to look at him, your eyes wide, eyebrows raised, as you let your annoyance of his presence further be known.

“I need you to find my stepsister.”

“Oh, for fuck sake, fine!” You spat, angrily stomping passed him and back to the main area of the arcade, where rows and rows of games and entertainment suffocated the room. Heading towards the girls’ bathrooms, you pushed open the door and not thirty seconds later two girls - a red head and a brunette - came shuffling out with you stropping behind them.

“You’re fucking welcome. Now please go.” You grumbled when you walked past the boy, not bothering to wait for a thank you or anything else to come from his mouth.

And Billy just watched, amusement glowing on his face as he watched you storm away. You and Billy weren’t friends, were barely acquaintances, were merely peers at the same school. The two of you shared a few classes together but that was it. You didn’t hang out, you barely interacted with one another, and perhaps you dating someone Billy despised played a part in that (at least on Billy’s part). He had always found you quite fit, with a naturally gorgeous face and sexy body, the blonde boy would be lying if he hadn’t thought about his head being buried between your thighs. But never had he acted on it.

So perhaps tomorrow when Billy found out of your halt in relationship, he would find his opportunity to finally add another notch to his belt (surely you would be looking for a rebound). Or perhaps instead he would find an opportunity for something more; a chance for vengeance.

next part

[thats-pucking-amazing]

Frustrated (Josh Anderson)

So tumblr glitched and apparently decided to delete this...how kind. So here it is again.

Warnings: smut & light swearing

Requests: openish (I’m a senior in college...so it may take me a while)

*I’m currently on mobile! I’ll insert the read more button ASAP

Smut below

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You let out a cry of frustration. Why couldn’t you get there?? You tossed your vibe to the side in frustration. The fact that you were 22 years old and had never had an orgasm was getting old. Really fast. You were so sexually frustrated...it wasn’t even funny.

It didn’t help that you were living with one of your childhood best friends, who had grown-up to be an absolute, for lack of a better word, unit. Josh Anderson, your neighbor until age 16 had filled out well, was still the gentleman his mom raised him to be, and had a tendency to walk around in low-slung sweats without a shirt. All it did was serve to make you even hornier, which given the fact that he still saw you as just a friend and you were unable to bring yourself to orgasm...was not a good thing.

You turned your vibe off and shoved it back into your drawer before slamming it shut. After shimmying back into your leggings and readjusting your (Josh’s) hoodie you exited your room. At least Josh wasn’t here to bother and tease you...and then you could drink a glass of wine in peace.

“Aren’t you supposed to be happier after an orgasm?”

You screamed. You screamed like Auston Matthews seeing an inflatable bear and then threw your phone at where the voice was coming from.

“What the hell, Y/N?” Josh demanded, though thankfully with your phone safely secured.

“What the hell yourself, Joshua!” You retorted. “I thought you were supposed to be in Sudbury until tomorrow!”

He shrugged and then handed you back the phone you had impulse chucked at him. “I got a ride back with Cam. He’s has some shindig tomorrow.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that?!” You demanded.

“I texted and I called your name out when I came in...but you were a bit occupied.” He shot you a smirk and leaned against the counter. “Which brings me back to my earlier question...aren’t you supposed to be happier after an orgasm? I mean, I always am.”

You ignored him and poured yourself a glass of wine before sitting across from him in one of the barstools. “You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re avoiding the question.”

“Why do you care?”

“Just answer it.”

You gritted your teeth. “I wish I could.”

He refilled your wine and furrowed his brows. “What’s that supposed to mean? Nothing is stopping you.”

“I wish!” You rolled your eyes angrily. “I can’t answer the question. I don’t know the answer.” You bit out.

He blinked once. Twice. “You mean you’ve…”

“Never.”

“You’re 22!” He protested. “You’ve had boyfriends, I know you have toys...how have you never had an orgasm?”

“I just can’t!! I only slept with James and he really wasn’t anything special. And I just can’t get myself off. I’ve tried since I was sixteen fucking years old and you danced with me at prom. I’ve watched videos...read articles...I just can’t!” You were almost in tears from the mortification of the conversation, extreme sexual frustration, and just overall embarrassment.

“Prom?”

“The ridiculous crush I’ve had on you for years is not the point of this goddamn conversation.”

He reached across the counter and grabbed your hand. “I’m sorry I made you tell me. And I’m sorry that I teased you. And I’m very sorry that you feel so frustrated.”

You sniffled and he rounded the counter to pull you into a hug.You buried your head in his chest, “I just want.”

“I know, love.” He pulled your head up so your eyes connected with his blue ones. “Let me help.”

“What?”

“Let me help you get the release you need. No strings. I just want to help you.” He leaned into you, so close his mouth almost brushed yours. “Will you let me help you?”

“Yes.”

He gave you a wide smile that quickly transformed into a smirk before he lifted you up onto the counter.

“Josh!” You protested, “We eat up here.”

He didn’t give you a response, just chuckled before he pressed his lips to yours. His mouth was plush, but demanding against yours. His tongue wrestled with yours as your hands knotted in his curls.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been kissing before you broke apart. Just that you were both gasping for breath and his cheeks had flushed...you were sure you looked the same.

He wrapped your legs around his waist before picking you and carrying you down the hall. Your vee was pressed right against his erection and with every step you gasped at the friction.

Squirming in his grasp you tried to press more firmly against him, “Josh, please! Please.”

He smacked your ass. “Calm down. I’ll give you what you need but you need to calm down.”

You groaned and arched against him again before he tossed you down onto his bed. He quickly pulled your shirt over your head (score one for not putting your bra back on) and only paused to take his off because you tugged at the hem before he again had his mouth pressed against yours.

You ran your nails down his chest and abdomen and his calloused fingertips made a similar path down your torso before making their way back up to your nipples. He pinched one and then rubbed his thumb soothingly along it before repeating the motion on the other. Each time your breath hitched embarrassingly.

He broke the kiss as he began to trail his mouth down your neck and across your collarbones. As he reached your breasts he looked up at you speculatively.

“Why is it...do you think...that you can’t make yourself cum?” With each pause between words he would teasingly flick just the end of your nipples with his tongue. Not enough to give you satisfaction, just to tease.

“I just can’t.” He gave another teasing lick. “Please, Josh. Please.”

“I love the sound of that. But now isn’t the time to be distracted. Wanna know what I think?”

You were getting more and more frustrated with the talking and the not doing so you snapped, “I think that you like to hear yourself talk.”

He smirked. And then nipped the skin at the underside of your breast hard enough to leave a mark but not enough to break the skin. “Don’t be rude, Y/N. If you’re nice then good things happen.” To demonstrate he sucked your pebbled nub into his mouth and your back arched off the bed, but he released you before you could really appreciate it.

“Please more!” You cried out.

“Ready to hear what I think?” You just nodded in response. “You won’t let yourself surrender that control. You are, in the best way, high-strung enough that the idea of letting yourself fall off that cliff for the first time is scary.”

“Are you going to make me do that, Dr. Phil?” You teased.

“Rude.” He admonished. Still though, he moved slowly down your torso, leaving kisses and teasing nips. He reached the waistline of your leggings and looked up at you. “Do you trust me? Do you want this?”

You nodded, but he shook his head. “Give me words.”

“Yes. Please, yes Josh.”

He tugged down your leggings and arched a brow at you. “Commando? So scandalous.”

“I didn’t feel like taking the extra time to put them on.” You explained.

“Well I definitely appreciate it.” He pulled your leggings the rest of the way off and then you were naked. Reflexively you attempted modesty by crossing your legs and lowering your hands, but Josh grabbed your wrists. “Don’t cover yourself. You’re gorgeous.”

“And you’re still wearing pants and underwear. Things just feel a little uneven.”

He smirked. “I don’t need to have my pants off to do what I want to you. But I will take them off if you insist.” So he shucked off his pants which left him in just a pair of boxers that did absolutely nothing to disguise his desire. And then he knelt down between your knees and hitched your legs over his shoulders.

“You just dive into this? Don’t yo-”

He arched a brow. “James really did suck didn’t he? Don’t you read the trashy romance novels. This is the best place to start.” He began to leave slow, blazing kisses up the inside of your thighs and then you didn’t care if he was just going to dive right in.

He worked his way up one leg and skipped over where you wanted him most before working his way back up the other. He blew a teasing breath and then placed a closed mouth kiss directly on your pussy.

You let out a strangled cry of his name but got no further before he began to kiss, lick, and suck with not only enthusiasm but relish. And God, was he good at it. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know why but you were beyond grateful in the moment.

He flicked over your clit with just the tip of his tongue and pushed in two fingers. The tightening you always felt in your gut was back with a vengeance and you began to squirm away from the sheer pleasure he was bringing you.

“Josh,” You panted. “Too much, baby.”

He shook his head and pumped his fingers before he looked up at you. His lips were swollen and wet with your juices. “Not enough, love. You’re so close. Let go of it. Trust me to catch you.” And then he turned back to what he was doing. He sucked on your clit and your hips bucked up before he threw an arm over your waist to keep you down.

He pumped his fingers again and then curled them up. “Come on Y/N. Let me see you cum.” He curled them one more time and for the first time you fell off that cliff.

You came on a silent yell as your vision whited out. You weren’t sure how long it was before you finally returned to a normal state of conscience but Josh had you firmly tugged against him, with only his boxers separating the two of you.

“Holy shit.” You murmured. “This was by far the best idea you’ve ever had. I can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this for so long.”

Josh let out a soft chuckle. “I agree this was definitely my best idea. I should have these kind of ideas more often.”

You pressed a long kiss to his lips, tasting yourself on them and then pulled back to look him in the eyes that never failed to make your heart stutter. “Wanna hear my idea?” You teased.

“Hit me with it.” You leaned in and whispered exactly what you imagined the next thing (or two or ten) the two of you would do together.

“Let’s get to it.” And then he smothered your giggle with his mouth as he rolled you underneath him...where you would occasionally switch places with him for the rest of the night.